Amberrose
@brickbard.bsky.social
Our art is our weapon. In every paint-stroke, poem, melody, and mural, we carve our claim to this world, paint our insistence that no one is safe until we all are, until we all can breathe, until every community has roots and space enough to grow.
I can't believe I'm holding this in my hand.
January 17, 2025 at 9:58 PM
I can't believe I'm holding this in my hand.
Doing some quick sketches and practice. Sketchbooks aren't always pretty.
January 2, 2025 at 4:39 PM
Doing some quick sketches and practice. Sketchbooks aren't always pretty.
Never go in against a caecilian when death is on the line!!
December 30, 2024 at 1:57 AM
Never go in against a caecilian when death is on the line!!
Just over here spiraling into beautiful chaos.
December 27, 2024 at 11:17 AM
Just over here spiraling into beautiful chaos.
Sketchbook mistakes. 🤦🏼♀️ do you see it?
I'm no better than ai. 😭😂
I'm no better than ai. 😭😂
December 26, 2024 at 10:38 PM
Sketchbook mistakes. 🤦🏼♀️ do you see it?
I'm no better than ai. 😭😂
I'm no better than ai. 😭😂
Getting in the spirit. ❤💚❣️
December 21, 2024 at 11:22 PM
Getting in the spirit. ❤💚❣️
I put another set up for frees on my tpt page. 💜 I'm a big fan of people not needing to be careful how they use my art. If I see something I made out in the universe I just get giddy, I don't get angry that I didn't get credit.
December 12, 2024 at 1:26 PM
I put another set up for frees on my tpt page. 💜 I'm a big fan of people not needing to be careful how they use my art. If I see something I made out in the universe I just get giddy, I don't get angry that I didn't get credit.
Just a little spider clutching their pearls at the horror of their home being swept away.
December 12, 2024 at 1:23 PM
Just a little spider clutching their pearls at the horror of their home being swept away.
Just some cookie cutter identification but I'm wrong.
November 25, 2024 at 5:28 PM
Just some cookie cutter identification but I'm wrong.
Another random sketchbook page.
November 20, 2024 at 3:43 PM
Another random sketchbook page.
Our art isn't a competition, it's a conversation, and every voice belongs in it.
November 19, 2024 at 11:42 PM
Our art isn't a competition, it's a conversation, and every voice belongs in it.
Random sketchbook page.
November 17, 2024 at 12:18 PM
Random sketchbook page.
I got to order proofs of my poetry book 😱
November 16, 2024 at 10:32 PM
I got to order proofs of my poetry book 😱
Reposted by Amberrose
Please do not thirst follow me. I'm an old woman with a sketchbook.
November 15, 2024 at 10:49 PM
Please do not thirst follow me. I'm an old woman with a sketchbook.
Wings spread wide,
I shed the weight of earth,
a rebellion against gravity's pull.
The wind speaks,
lifting me higher,
above the cages I built in my mind.
Clouds part like secrets,
revealing the endless blue.
For a moment,
I am nothing but free.
I shed the weight of earth,
a rebellion against gravity's pull.
The wind speaks,
lifting me higher,
above the cages I built in my mind.
Clouds part like secrets,
revealing the endless blue.
For a moment,
I am nothing but free.
November 15, 2024 at 10:06 PM
Wings spread wide,
I shed the weight of earth,
a rebellion against gravity's pull.
The wind speaks,
lifting me higher,
above the cages I built in my mind.
Clouds part like secrets,
revealing the endless blue.
For a moment,
I am nothing but free.
I shed the weight of earth,
a rebellion against gravity's pull.
The wind speaks,
lifting me higher,
above the cages I built in my mind.
Clouds part like secrets,
revealing the endless blue.
For a moment,
I am nothing but free.
Reposted by Amberrose
I have read the stories, whispers that rise from pages drenched in blood,
the echoes of boots marching through cobblestone streets,
the silence that followed when they came for the ones
no one dared to stand for.
Not again
Not this time
I will not wait to speak until there's noone left to hear.
the echoes of boots marching through cobblestone streets,
the silence that followed when they came for the ones
no one dared to stand for.
Not again
Not this time
I will not wait to speak until there's noone left to hear.
November 15, 2024 at 4:41 PM
I have read the stories, whispers that rise from pages drenched in blood,
the echoes of boots marching through cobblestone streets,
the silence that followed when they came for the ones
no one dared to stand for.
Not again
Not this time
I will not wait to speak until there's noone left to hear.
the echoes of boots marching through cobblestone streets,
the silence that followed when they came for the ones
no one dared to stand for.
Not again
Not this time
I will not wait to speak until there's noone left to hear.
I'm sorry y'all. It was my fault. I made pigs fly. 😔😔
November 14, 2024 at 3:11 PM
I'm sorry y'all. It was my fault. I made pigs fly. 😔😔
I admire Le Guin, her courage to be unflinchingly herself,
and I think, “What would it be to step out of shadow,
and become the legend I long to be?” But bravery is hard when the world’s eyes
are angry fires, so I bury myself in pages, in ink-stained dreams, where no one can judgethe longing.
and I think, “What would it be to step out of shadow,
and become the legend I long to be?” But bravery is hard when the world’s eyes
are angry fires, so I bury myself in pages, in ink-stained dreams, where no one can judgethe longing.
November 14, 2024 at 12:26 PM
I admire Le Guin, her courage to be unflinchingly herself,
and I think, “What would it be to step out of shadow,
and become the legend I long to be?” But bravery is hard when the world’s eyes
are angry fires, so I bury myself in pages, in ink-stained dreams, where no one can judgethe longing.
and I think, “What would it be to step out of shadow,
and become the legend I long to be?” But bravery is hard when the world’s eyes
are angry fires, so I bury myself in pages, in ink-stained dreams, where no one can judgethe longing.