
This old batman short from 2008 is giving serious Mignola energy
Yasuhiro Aoki "In Darkness Dwells"

Yasuhiro Aoki "In Darkness Dwells"
I pulled him apart for a quick and easy repaint. I'm not much of an artist and I wanted to lose that terrible black wash, highlight the details and let the awesome sculpt do the talking for this figure. The legs need another coat of matte varnish, but for the red on this guy, I think simple is the way to go for me. This was so much fun, I may buy another and do a dramatic block shading version too.
I pulled him apart for a quick and easy repaint. I'm not much of an artist and I wanted to lose that terrible black wash, highlight the details and let the awesome sculpt do the talking for this figure. The legs need another coat of matte varnish, but for the red on this guy, I think simple is the way to go for me. This was so much fun, I may buy another and do a dramatic block shading version too.
Hi all, I recently inherited some pieces from a good friend and family member. I know at least 2 of the pieces are ivory and one is obviously silver, but I'm not sure about the little Japanese guy.
I know there's a lot of stigma around the ethics with ivory, but I'm not looking to sell or trade. Any information would be awesome. I don't have proof that they are older than the embargo, but the information I have is that they are all old.
Inherited heirloom, not sure of age. I got this passed on to me by my uncle and good friend. As far as the obvious goes, I know it's from Venice, it's silver, it's 43 grams. Any more information would be appreciated. Cheers legends
Had a bloke at work tell me my printer must've run out of ink the other day (tbh, I do look white as fuck lol) when I told him that I have an indigenous background. Which, on its own, is a quick way to get sacked. But when I was thinking of the best insult I could come up with, I realised that I am literally a result of the White Australia policy and I said so. My grandmother was pretty light skinned as a baby and when she was removed from her mother to be raised by distant, whiter relatives, she wasn't told that she was Aboriginal. In fact, she didn't even consider that she might be until she was in her early sixties. She was horrified to learn that she wasn't the person she was raised to be and that an enormous part of her identity was stolen from her just as carelessly as she was stolen from her mother. In the subsequent years her children got together with her and through years of searching, found her mob and began to build the relationships and connections that were hers, theirs and mine by birthright. We still don't know everything, but at least we know where to ask. I talked to an old fella that went through a similar situation, and he told me "Doesn't matter how much milk you put in the cup, it's still a bloody coffee."