Critique

It’s So Bad It’s Good
Never call me again <I hoped we still had a chance, but honestly, this is going nowhere> she said. <Catherine, after everything we’ve been through, you’re pulling the plug? Why can’t we just talk this out? In person. You know I hate dealing with this shit over the phone.>
By Just a guy2 days ago in Art
My Landlord Tried to Make Me Feed His Pregnant Wife for Free. I Maliciously Complied With His Own Lease.
The day I looked at the basement unit, he stood in the kitchen doorway and tapped the lease three times with his finger. “This clause,” he said. “Food stays separate.”
By Jin7 days ago in Art
Boba Tea in a Plastic Cup: When Homesickness Meets a Minimart Shelf in Osaka
I had just gotten back from genba that evening, my body still carrying the smell of sweat and dust from work, when I stopped by a small convenience store near the station. The plan was simple — buy a bottle of water. But like always, my feet couldn't resist wandering down one more aisle before actually leaving. And that's where I stopped, standing still in front of a clear plastic cup labeled "Boba Tea — Matcha Flavor."
By Abu Haniifa23 days ago in Art
Arty Farty – Are You Serious?. Top Story - August 2026.
I recently read an article discussing the ten most famous paintings in the world. It reminded me of a visit to an art gallery about twenty years ago. Don’t get the wrong idea here. I am not an arty person. I have a few original paintings in my house that I bought for the colours and the overall “likeness factor."
By Calvin London28 days ago in Art
Why All the naked people?!!!
“Why all the naked people!?” You would be surprised how many times people have screamed this question at me when looking through my art portfolio.
By mark bradley (mark45xxx)about a month ago in Art
The Taste of Life
0:17 AM Just before I turned off the light, my mother called. We talked for three minutes about ordinary things. Right before she hung up, she added: "Your father had his checkup. Nothing serious. His blood pressure is a little high. The doctor said to keep an eye on it."
By Jinabout a month ago in Art
The Bamboo Gate That Held Everything
That autumn, our office had its annual task of visiting poor households. I was put in the same car as my boss. We drove for an hour and a half. The asphalt turned to concrete, then to dirt, and finally the dirt road narrowed to barely one lane. The fields on both sides were harvested and bare.
By Jinabout a month ago in Art
An American Daughter
"An American Daughter" at the Diamond Theatre at Pershing Square has many moving parts to it. It is political- the play takes part in Georgetown where politics are at the forefront of everything. Dr. Lyssa Hughes (Jean Lichty) is the daughter of conservative Senator Alan Hughes(Dakin Matthews). She is about to be appointed Surgeon General until something happens that could dampen he hopes of approval.
By Robert M Massimi. ( Broadway Bob).about a month ago in Art
art.
What is art? Art is life. Life is art. Life is BEAUTIFUL. Art is beautiful. What is beauty? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
By Jebus! about a month ago in Art
The Revenge That Broke the Avenger: What The Count of Monte Cristo Actually Takes From You
I The meal that Edmond Dantès was pulled away from at his engagement banquet—he never finished it. Alexandre Dumas opens the novel with extraordinary lightness. Someone knocks at the door. Military police are standing there. The young first mate of the Pharaon sets down his glass and rises. He probably knocked over his chair as he stood. Perhaps he even said, “Excuse me, wait for me.” He thought he was simply going to clear up a minor matter and would be back shortly—back to the laughter, back to the wine that was still warm.
By Jin2 months ago in Art
The Pencil I Refuse to Throw Away
I stood in the hallway of the architecture department for ten minutes, holding a spent technical pen in my hand. 0.3 mm, the ink dried, the tip clogged. I had tried burning it with a lighter, but it was beyond saving. The fluorescent lights in the hallway cast a harsh white, making the tracing paper on the drafting tables take on a bluish grey. It was the second semester of my freshman year; I had been auditing architecture courses for over a month. I had learned a phrase (“graphic presentation”) and another: “self-doubt.”
By Jin2 months ago in Art
Not Art
My father was an artist, I am not. This has long been my understanding. Though my father lived and died unknown to the wider world of art, he was a capable water colourist, as well as working with other media. He was skilled at painting and drawing. I never inherited any of this skill with the paintbrush or the pencil, although I was a keen amateur photographer many years ago and still like to take photographs. These days, however, I only use my ancient iPhone, which has its limitations.
By Raymond G Taylor2 months ago in Art