#I had hieroglyphs playing on loop for a while

[pafyna]

oc's dancing pt. 1 — let's see how far I get through this dbdkxk

last time I drew her (Lia) after listening to Aurora. I probably listened to more Aurora on the right one but I don't remember for sure, so let's pretend I exclusively listened to The Oh Hellos for the both of these :)

I hadn't been able to dance for a while, getting these sketched out (and colored) helped me channel some of the energy I get from the songs

pt. 2 | 3

[phone4pills]

BITE YOUR PENCIL sub!Matt x popular!Reader

p in v, riding, dominant reader, submissive Matt, cheating, smut, use of y/n, suggestive, longgg

“Yes, y/n, I gave you a D. If you want to pass any of your finals this year, I suggest you get yourself some help.” The teacher told you while the last few students left the classroom. You didn’t know what to do, your grades were slipping and your parents warned you not to let that happen.

When it came to school, you weren’t the brightest. But that didn’t matter to you an awful lot because you were popular. However, as of recent, it seems that your grades were dropping below average. It was getting closer to the end of the school year and you really needed to bump up your score to at least a B.

Your Dad was too busy running a million dollar business while your mother traveled the world. And your boyfriend wasn’t the smartest either. He was only at high school for sports.

All in all, you had no idea what to do.

Your boyfriend threw an arm around your shoulder. He could tell you weren’t really eating. “Sup, sweet?” He looked down at you, ruffling your hair a little. You swatted his hand away. “Nothing, just mad at my teacher.” You huffed.

He tutted, taking your fork and picking up a piece of pasta, flying it in loops towards your face. But you shook your head, not feeling like eating. He shrugged. “Don’t mind if I do.” And the fork switched directions towards his mouth, he hummed slightly at the taste of your food. Not surprising considering the boy would eat anything.

“Look, I know you want better grades. I don’t know why… but I have a brother in the year below. ’s a real geek. I’m sure he’d help ya out if I told him to.”

You immediately shook your head, your mind spiralling at the thought of having a junior practically tutoring you. But your boyfriend argued. “Well if you wanna whine about it you must be desperate. Just do it, I’m tired of your sulking.” You released a heavy sigh. Maybe you could give this junior one chance. At this point you had to take any help you could get.

“Hey, sweet.” Your boyfriend opened the door to his house, his mum wandered into the room. She had a smile on her face. You two greeted each other and you were led upstairs towards his brother’s room.

Once the two of you were stood in front of the door, your boyfriend opened it to reveal the boy sketching away at his deck. He turned his head quickly when he heard the door open, shooting a surprised glare at his brother. “I told you to knock.” He half-shouted, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I told you not talk to me like that!” Your boyfriend retorted angrily. The boy in the room lowered his head, playing with his pencil. He was cute. Nervous, but in a different way. In an innocent, likeable way.

You let go off your boyfriend’s arm. “It’s okay, babe. You should get back to whatever you were doing.”

He left with a quick kiss, his brother stood up and gave you a little wave. “I’m Matt. You’re uh… y/n right?” You gave him a nod and the two of you got to studying.

“Yeah so just convert it into a fraction if you wanna make dividing easier.” Matt said as you stared at the squared paper. You reached to your left to grab your pen without looking, but you found that your hand landed on something completely different.

Matt’s dick.

Your fingers quickly flew off the spot, your face forming a look of shock. “Oh my goodness I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-” The boy waved his hands, assuring you that it was fine but you could tell it wasn’t. His cheeks turned feverishly red and his eyes darted all around the room as he bit down on his bottom lip.

As you continued to study, Matt’s words became more and more unclear with each stutter. His hand was far too sweaty to hold his pencil correctly and every number he wrote in your book could easily resemble a hieroglyph.

Your eyes flitted down to where your hand landed accidentally. A very apparent bulge was growing in his trousers. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. You sighed and turned towards Matt. “Look we don’t have to finish this today. Unless… maybe you want some help relieving that stress.”

“What do you mean?” Matt says, leaning closer to you so your faces were aligned, meet inches between them. “I believe you’re cute… and smart and helpful and I think maybe I could help you.” You didn’t know what he was going to say. You knew he was shy and probably just wanted to study. But you had to try. You had to make sure he knew what you thought.

Before you could say something else, his lips found yours in a deep kiss, knocking the breath out of you. You reciprocated the gestures, your hands finding the fly of his jeans. He groaned into your mouth, sending warm ripples of his submission down your throat.

You slowly pulled down his lower half of garments, fingers tracing the base of his cock that was pressed up against his stomach as he moaned. Matt pulled his head away throwing it back with a hiss when your finger caressed his pink tip, already leaking with small streams of his arousal.

“N-need… need you, please.” He whined quietly. His fingers tugged at the hem of your skirt for a second before his hand slid up your thigh to grab hold of your underwear. You played with his hair innocently, but your mind was slowly flooding with thoughts that were far from purity. “Help me get ‘em off, can you do that?”

He nodded quickly and pulled your underwear off, throwing them to the side. You straddled him, resting a knee on either side of his hips, slowly sinking down on his dick.

“F-fuck!” He whined, head falling into the crook of your neck. The grip of his hands on you waist was similar to that of a brick to cement. Only becoming more and more distinguishable when you began to ride him, basking in the feeling of his teeth in your skin,mapping every vein and ridge on his length that was deep inside of you.

“You like that, Matty? D’ya like it?”

He nodded into your shoulder so his ruffled hairs tickled your neck. But you weren’t satisfied. You wanted to hear him. You wanted to fall focus of his beautiful yet so dirty noises. He was like your personal fallen angel, unable to contain the sinful ideas on his mind. “Say it, Matt. Tell me how much you like it.”

A broken, horse groan escaped his throat. “I love it- mmh, I want more…”

Every bounce on his cock pushed Matt further and further over the edge. His hands grasped shamelessly at the roots of you hair, tugging and clutching in a hope to ground himself during the unhealthy high he was experiencing. His mouth dried up with each slap of your ass on his thighs. Your walls sucked him in, warming and pleasing every inch of what he had to give as his tip hit against your cervix like a hammer on a nail.

Within minutes his head flailed flat on your shoulder, eyes rolling back as he drooled onto the sleeve of your sweater. You felt the hot load of cum fill up your insides, warm trickles gracing your walls.

You pulled off him, cupping his face gently. His lips were slobbered in saliva and he could barely make eye contact. He didn’t know he wanted another round until your hand wrapped around his dick, thumb rubbing his bright pink tip before you palmed away at his throbbing girth. With this, he thrusted his pelvis upwards into your arousing touch.

Your fingers hastened their way up and down his so very sensitive length, causing his head to fall back and his eyes to litter tears down his blushing cheeks. Matt’s mouth hung wide open but no noises escaped. All that came out was a long train of radical breaths. You enjoyed watching him weaken under your touch, teeth eventually gritting down on the pencil he put in his mouth to try to remain quiet. He may have been tutoring you but you certainly jerked him dumb. “Thaaat’s right, bite your pencil Matt.”

When Matt felt the knot in his stomach pull apart, he hissed, lifting his head back up, only for it to fall forward so his chin dug into his collarbone. His second release shot out of his cock violently, coating your hand in strings of white slick. You sucked the warm, slightly sour liquid off your fingers before leaning closer to lick the rest off his crotch.

His bloodshot eyes watched in awe as you cleaned him up and when you were done you put your underwear back on while he sat frozen on the bed, eyes wide.

Then the two of you heard footsteps getting closer and closer. Matt quickly pulled up his boxers and jeans, re-zipping his fly and wiping his eyes afterwards. You grabbed your books and held them close to your chest, taking your seat on the bed and good metre away from him.

Then you leaned in for a second to fix his glasses. His eyes found yours in an entrancing gaze, which you only broke when the door opened. Your boyfriend walked into the room.

“How’s it going, sweet?” He pondered, leaning on the wall. You stood up, making your way towards him. “All good, Matt just finished.” You glanced back at him for a split second, his head hung low, eyes tracing the floorboards as he picked at his fingernails like he did when you first walked in.

“Cool, want me to walk you home?” The boy pushed himself off the wall, sneaking an arm around your waist. You nodded, giving him the go to lead you towards the door.

Right before you left the doorway, you spun your head back to find Matt staring at you. You gave him a wink and advanced down the hallway.

He sat with his head in his hands, fingers twirling the ends of his hair as he heard your voice get quieter and quieter. “Lemme go to the restroom first, babe. I’ll meet you at the door.” He heard you say.

Your boyfriend walked down the stairs as you pivoted back towards Matt’s room. When you walked in, you instantly caught his lips in a passionate kiss, sending cascades of lighting through each of his nerves as you pushed him down on the bed. Then you pulled away.

“Your glasses are cute by the way.” You whispered, leaving a stained kiss on one of his frames, before making your way to the restroom.

And when you were done in there you walked down the stairs and waving a quick goodbye to your boyfriend’s mom, and the two of you left the house.

Hey you guys! This one took a while so I’m glad you read it, this isn’t my only sub!Matt piece of work, @dykes4chris would know. You can find more in my MASTERLIST. Until next time!!

PART TWO

- ©phone4pills

[wasabito-reblogs]

here’s my entry for the konoha simps server collab :) check out the rest of the entries here or at @bakubabes-hatake’s page!

prompt: occasions

word count: 2.5k

tags&warnings: established relationship, domestic fluff, hints of spiciness at the end (nothing major)

summary: In which you and Aizawa rediscover your synergy

❤︎

There was a sudden click at the front door, following telltale sounds of a key being jimmied into the lock. Both were enough to break the still quietude and have Aizawa cracking open a bloodshot eye, his sleepy, hooded gaze darting around the room until he finally spotted the sudden intrusion.

You stood at the foyer, slipping off your work shoes, with a look of mild concern on your face. Your lips held a slight frown that looked misplaced, especially when directed at him. He knew immediately that he’d fucked up.

A damning, half-empty cup of coffee sitting innocently on top of your old Heroics in Society textbook drew your attention first, before any of the other things. In your shared living room, the state of disarray all pointed to the simple fact that your boyfriend had come home and gone straight to grading.

Aizawa coughed and sat up straighter on the sofa. Though his body moved in slow motion, his mind raced to find some logical reasoning to explain why he was, once again, neglecting his health in favor of work.

Stuck to his chest was the exam sheet he had been eye-balling before succumbing to fatigue. Even after a somewhat restful nap, Aizawa could scarcely make out what hieroglyphics Kaminari had written on his paper.

You came and leaned into the back of the chair to read over Aizawa’s shoulder. Pointing to the true and false section of the exam, you wondered aloud, “Why do the T’s and F’s look so similar? I can barely tell which is which.”

He snorted lightly with a roll of his eyes, “That’s probably the point.” He said, but considering he had just woken up, it sounded more like grumbled nonsense.

Your noncommittal hum in response was all he got before you plucked the sheet from his hands. He watched as you came around and stacked up his papers, making sure to separate graded works from the ones he had yet to look at. How many times had you caught him like this? Passed out on the living room couch with class 1A’s assignments scattered every which way.

“You really gotta take better care of yourself, Shou.”

“I know,” he tugged on your hand, bringing the back of it to his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softened at his words and the sleepy expression on his face. It was almost too endearing. “Yeah, okay, you say that now, but I’m sure you’ll be back to it again tomorrow.”

Aizawa couldn’t even deny your claim. He was a workaholic through and through. Most of his time was spent doing some form of work, whether it be in managing his class as a U.A teacher or patrolling the city as a pro-hero.

No one understood the toll it took on him better than you. You were a quirk counselor at Ketsubutsu Academy, after all, so it was your job to make sure that both students and staff were taking care of their physical and mental health. A lot of your work tended to trickle into the home, usually in the form of fussing over your boyfriend and making sure he was taking breaks and getting proper rest.

“You’re home early,” he commented. He kept your hand in his lap to fiddle idly with your fingers. “Something happen? … You look nervous.”

Even half-asleep, Shouta was astute as ever.

“Ah, not really. There’s this thing at work tonight, but I think I might skip it.”

His brows furrowed as he considered your words, “A work thing? Tonight?”

“Yeah, just a little ceremony for the staff, no biggie.”

“Sounds important. Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

“I—” you fumbled; how could you forget this man could read you like a book? Whenever you were dodgy or evasive, he knew just where to press until you were honest with him. “It’s actually an award ceremony. I’m being honored for my work at the school.”

Aizawa smiled, showing off a row of teeth in a way that made your heart skip a beat. You nearly missed his next words.

“I’m proud of you, kitten. Seriously, you deserve the recognition.” His long fingers threaded into yours, and you felt centered in the feeling of his firm grip like you were finally on solid footing. It definitely helped ease the tension off your shoulders.

“Thanks, Shou.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “So, what time is this thing, because I’m not letting you sit at home and miss it. And before you argue, consider the logic in remaining home when you know you’re being honored for something like this.” He stood from the sofa, stretching, and then cracking his neck. “It just isn’t rational.”

“So...you’re coming with me?”

You couldn’t hold back the surprise in your voice. It seemed almost too good to be true, you and Shouta going out together and to an event, no less. Usually, it took being dragged out of the house by his coworkers for him to enjoy a Friday night off.

Not to mention, no one knew of your relationship. His friends probably had their own assumptions but no one on your end knew a thing. This would be your first public outing as a couple.

“Of course I’m coming with you.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You smiled, realizing it was.

❤︎

An hour later, you stood behind a seated Aizawa in the middle of your bathroom with a towel looped around your body, still dripping from your recent shower.

“You have to hold still, baby, or else it’s gonna hurt,” you mumble while adjusting your grip on the hairbrush.

He had asked you to help him out with his hair, but the task proved quite tricky. Its length and thickness gave you no other choice but to work in smaller sections, which you had no issues with. If only your fingers in Shouta’s hair didn’t put him straight to sleep again. This was the third time he’d nodded off and caused the brush to snag at his roots.

With a sigh, you attempted to run the brush gingerly through his hair once more. In the past, you’d seen pictures of your boyfriend as a child, always with his hair looking unkempt and so obviously unattended to; at least before he grew old enough to do it himself. Funnily enough, it was like you finally understood the reason why.

After a few more minutes of careful ministrations, you patted his shoulder and smiled. “All done!”

Aizawa looked up bleary-eyed, then shook his hair out and ran his fingers through it. “Nice, thank you.” He leaned over and pecked your forehead before standing to his feet. “Want me to do you?”

You snorted at the subtle implications of his words. “Go get dressed already. I can ‘do’ myself.”

“Oh, can you?”

You were tempted to play along with his little joke, but it was getting late and neither of you were dressed yet. Regrettably, you shooed him away so that you could continue to prepare on your own without him being a distraction

Following another thirty or so minutes, you dressed up and met Aizawa at the door. He had put on a crisp button up shirt and a pair of dark, tailored pants that fit him so well, you had to resist the urge to pinch his ass.

When you approached, he was standing at the mirror in the hall, tying his hair into a bun. You could tell he had given up on fussing with his tie just by the way it hung loose around his neck.

“Here, let me,” with deft fingers you undid the knot, sliding the tie off and then promptly tossed it onto the couch. You also unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, smiling to yourself at the lidded stare Aizawa was pinning you with.

“You want me to go out like this?”

“I thought I’d let you off the hook,” you laughed. “No tie tonight.”

Closing the gap between you two, Aizawa planted a kiss at the corner of your mouth, as a silent thank you.

❤︎

From what you understood, the ceremony wasn’t supposed to be a large one, still a good bit of Ketsubutsu staff and student body were present.

Already you could tell that Aizawa was a little put off by the amount of people, especially those who kept staring at you two. Though, it just couldn’t be helped. Not many knew that either of you were in a relationship. Dressed as he was, you wouldn't be surprised if most simply didn't recognize him as the pro-hero, Eraserhead.

Even you had to admit that your boyfriend cleaned up nicely, a stark contrast from his usual ‘rolled out of bed’ appearance.

“Hey! You made it!” Emi Fukukado, otherwise known as Ms. Joke, called to you over the crowd. You were just about to go over to greet her and the others when Aizawa cleared his throat.

“I’m gonna get you a drink.” he gave your hand a light squeeze and excused himself before you could respond.

“Hey, hey!! I’m so glad you’re here.” Your coworker had waltzed over and scooped you into a tight hug.

“S-Same,” you wheezed. “Mind letting go?”

“Oh whoops!” Emi laughed sheepishly. When she finally released you, you couldn't help but notice her looking around. “Weren’t you just with someone? I didn’t get a good look but I’m positive—”

“Oh yeah,” you looked around for Aizawa but couldn’t see him anywhere “I um...didn’t come alone. I came with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?! Since when?!!”

“Ah! Well…”

Thankfully before you could delve into explaining anything, you were saved by the proverbial bell.

Over the intercom, the principal announced for all attendees to proceed towards the auditorium where the ceremony would be held. Although you followed Emi without question, you still silently searched for Aizawa in the crowd but to no avail.

You were escorted to a seat in the front row with all the others who were also being recognized. Still you couldn’t help wondering where the hell Shouta had gone. You could barely focus during the entire opening speech, your attention having been snatched by worry. If not for Emi subtly tapping your arm, you might’ve even missed your name being called.

You stood up and walked across the stage, willing your legs to move forward. The principal shook your hand and presented to you a plaque with your name engraved in gold lettering. Several others on stage, some heroes and staff, also commended you with handshakes and warm hugs. You murmured thank yous all the way to your seat, but still you wondered about your boyfriend.

“Hey, Emi.” You said as you handed her your award. “I’ll be right back, could you watch this for me? I’m going to the washroom.”

Emi seemed a little concerned by your tone but agreed. “Got it!”

Quietly you exited the auditorium and headed in the direction of the reception hall where you’d last seen Shouta, but it was empty save for a few students milling about the snack table. You were tempted to ask if they had seen Eraserhead, but decided against it, you could find him on your own.

After about ten minutes of searching you went to one of the balconies overlooking the sports field. To your immediate surprise, there stood Aizawa, though he seemed preoccupied. There was a cell phone wedged between his ear and shoulder. He noticed you not a second later, and concluded his call quickly.

“Shou, what are you doing out here?”

He frowned. “I got caught up in a work call, I’m sorry. Has it started?”

“It’s more than started, it's almost over.”

Your boyfriend looked stunned for just a moment before he let out a sigh, “I’m really sorry I missed it kitten,” he came to loop his arms around you.

“Like I said, it was no biggie,” you mumbled.

“You okay?… You’re shaking.” he whispered, lips pressed against your hair.

“I’m fine,” you responded. “Just cold.”

At that, Aizawa pulled you closer into his chest, his arms acting as a shield against the evening chill.

Something had been on your mind since the beginning of the night. It was an intrusive thought and although you knew better than to entertain it, it was also proving to be hard to ignore. Shouta had been acting strange since arriving here. You thought it was because of the crowd but he wouldn't have missed the ceremony for something as minute as that. You breathed in his scent, slowly gathering the courage to ask what had been rattling in your brain for a while now.

“Be honest with me, Shou, are you afraid of us going public?”

You felt him stiffen and pull back slowly to see your face fully. He didn’t ask you to repeat yourself, so you knew he had heard you loud and clear.

“What makes you say that?”

You looked away from him, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, “I don’t know… it’s just a thought.”

Aizawa didn’t speak for a long while. He still held you close, almost protectively, but he remained silent like he was trying to find the right words to say.

“Yeah...I guess you could say that.” He sighed, “but it’s not what you’re thinking. I’m not afraid of what people will think when they see us, far from it. But the thought of you getting hurt because of your association to me...makes me...hesitant.”

You blinked up at him. The way his jaw was set as he spoke became proof enough that he wasn’t as unaffected by things as he appeared. Always so cool and collected, and yet he was possibly the most capable of emotion. You pressed your forehead against his chest as you considered your next words.

“I get that. But that doesn't give you an excuse to run off!” You pinched his arm lightly as if it emphasized your point.

“You’re right kitten, although it was an important call.” his lips spread into a wide smile. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Hm, I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Aizawa huffed and rolled his eyes at you, then bent to capture your lips in kiss. It was heavy and comforting in a way mere words simply failed to be. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in that feeling. His hand drifted lower down your back until he was nearly cupping your ass.

“Mmmm, Shou.” You pulled back, feeling the heat in your cheeks. Aizawa said nothing, instead he smirked like he had something planned. He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing away a stray lash.

“Shall we take this home?”

❤︎

(Part 2 in the works, stay tuned!!)

[cwmoonglum]

Reversion

It was fifteen Octobers ago and the three of us were sweating in Tom's coffin sized room because his sister Caroline was using the shared computer. Left with little else to do but watch the same ten looping videos on Scuzz TV and play cards we swiftly grew disillusioned with the few games we knew. Having no money made most of the games dull; there was more tension in wondering when the shelves in Tom's room would give way under the weight of the home recorded VHS tapes of Coronation Street he kept.

We might have gone outside, but none of us were sporty. Instead, we decided to create a new game: Reversion. The rules elude me now (as then), but I can still picture the cards laid out. Seven cards formed an H (originally a sad R we agreed looked more like an A), and the rest were divided amongst the players equally. It was difficult perched on Tom's bed to hold such a large hand correctly, and we often dropped them.

Every card played in Reversion had to be played next to another, Tetrising the original H beyond recognition. The cards had a cascading effect on every other card in play, swapping their places or forcing your opponents to pick them up. This was the aim of the game: discard your hand, and revert the cards in play to your opponents'. 

Constructing the rules was easy, learning to apply them was harder. Our dog eared notes were hastily rewritten as flaws and simple win strategies appeared. This was proof that Reversion was a real game, because we cared enough to insist on an element of truly random luck. Eventually, the formal rules were agreed, though the sheet looked more like Caroline's MSN chats than anything so lofty. Tom's sister had bound custom emoticons to nearly all of her keys, so that her sentences looked Tokyo hieroglyphic, all flashing lights and pictograms. We had tried objecting to her taking the shared computer on this basis, but this fell on deaf ears. This, too, was the application of the rules.

Tom's dad was a cop, and had a cop's insistence on the rules. Reversion was a game we played in near silence, and Caroline listened to 'My Humps' furtively, on headphones. A card played in Reversion had a cascading effect, and could swiftly upturn the order of the game.

A drizzly Saturday morning one month after we invented the game, we held the finals of the World Championship. The people we had foisted the game on during school had fallen aside. I suspect they didn't fully grasp the rules. Tom, however, had yet to lose a game.

With no proper recollection of Reversion I can't tell you how he did it. Even when Tom explained it later, all he managed to do was convince me of the gulf between our minds. I was, at the time, having near nightly arguments with my parents about how much I detested maths class. No wonder, then, that it appeared a form of magic to me. Our hands would swell phonebook fat in our hands while Tom cackled and brayed and his VHS tapes trembled on the shelf. His mother crept up the stairs to whisper at him to keep it down. He dutifully apologised, and we decided to spend the little money we had anointing Tom as the champion.

Tom's dad wasn't the kind to give lifts, so we were soaked through by the time we got to Burger King. Tom was disappointed when he found out that they didn't have any cardboard crowns left. I made him one out of napkins instead.

[exhausterated-blog]

Interview: Terrence Nance on AN OVERSIMPLIFICATION OF HER BEAUTY

(note: this interview was conducted for I-D in 2013; they failed to compensate me for it and then took it offline for some reason, so I figured I’d repost here in honor of Nance’s new HBO series RANDOM ACTS OF FLYNESS, made in collaboration with Darius Clarke Monroe, Nuotama Bodomo, Naima Ramos-Chapman, Jamund Washington and Mariama Diallo. enjoy - SM, 08.07.18)

The first astonishing thing about AN OVERSIMPLIFICATION is that it exists. The second, after talking with filmmaker/star Terence Nance, is how meticulously constructed it is. Produced by Jay-Z, dream hampton, Wyatt Cenac and Joy Bryant, OVERSIMPLIFICATION is some kind of somersault, a shapeshifting essay film (think Chris Marker, or EXTREME PRIVATE EROS) on director/ artist Terence Nance’s undying love for a woman named Namik. It sees him – and her – entangled with his feelings across film formats, years and continents, spanning hand-drawn animation, home video, psychoanalysis, therapeutic (or not) reenactments, CGI, stop-motion…. the works. If ever a film seemed improvised, it’s this one; Nance’s design isn’t just deliberate, it’s obsessive. The movie’s threads of narrative (and myriad narrators) drolly undercut themselves, just a blink of an eye before you get a chance to; even when xeroxing his memories into neat stacks, Nance hands the mic to Namik when you least expect it. Whenever Nance seems at risk of confession-cam wankery, he manages instead to tap a deep vein of psychological insight, toggling between gushing joy and a clear-eyed, bitterly adult remorse. As the velvet-throated narrator says early in Nance’s knockout debut, “a sweetness prevails.” How long have you been working on this? From the day I started it to today, it’s been six years. At one point I wanted it to be the ugliest movie ever made, like, a total piece of shit, shot exclusively on phones from 2005 or Beta Max news cameras. My director of photography talked me out of it. Some of those pieces are still in the final product, but we shot on the DVX100 (miniDV), DSLRs, shot a little bit on film, cell phone footage is in there, just, everything. I mean, I originally approached this as an artist, not as a director. I don’t know if you noticed but the first moment and the last moment are the same – the film was supposed to play on a loop, originally. You use a lot of ancient Egyptian imagery in the movie. Is there a hidden pattern to that, or is it just stuff you like, that you wanted to put in the movie? I grew up in a very African-centric household, so when I’m thinking about timeless images of space – not outer space, just space – I default to hieroglyphs, khematic imagery. I also fall back on art deco, which I think is very sourced in that. There’s a repeated motif, with this stop-motion puppet of yourself, stumbling – letting the girl see you stumble. Isn’t it a compliment if you let someone see you stumble? That’s about composure. I think a lot, specifically in my relationship with Namik, it kinda hinged on this strange dance in which I perceived her to be attracted to my ability to keep my composure around her. Between her and other women I fell in Love with, I noticed a trend, you don’t ever wanna be caught flippin’ out (laughs), or more specifically being needy, or coming from a place of emotional vulnerability. Stoicism makes you seem extremely composed – the whole movie is about that. That moment in the film is like, a microcosm of what’s going on. Actual composure vs. presentation. Exactly. The film is a document of having lost composure, you know what I mean? Within the context of the interaction I was having with Namik, I was still kind of hyperaware of that. In order to maintain whatever it was we had, I could not lose my composure. I had to come off as calm, cool and collected. It seems like a double whammy for you – this is a highly personal, flammable movie, and it’s also your big debut to the world… I think it is, but the movie seems much more personal than it really is. The amount of information actually disclosed about me is extremely limited. The film is personal but I viewed its execution the same as I would’ve viewed any other film about any other subject… I think, I always wondered subconsciously if the effort I was putting in warranted the scope of the final product. That was always difficult but what pushed me through is that I connected the film’s completion to my credibility as a human being. I told everyone I knew that I was working on it so if I never finished people would have thought of me as a flake. It was very strange, definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I can’t imagine raising kids is tougher than making one’s first feature film. Nowadays it’s kind of commonly accepted that distribution, itself, is the final piece of the production process. It’s strange – I’m really against that assumption. On some level it’s obviously a sound assumption given the state of the industry, but including distribution in production hurts how prolific a filmmaker can be. Distribution diverts a whole shitload of energy from making art into getting the art in front of people. Presumably, there should be someone committed to doing that, for whom that is their expertise, but the nature of the economy is such that even if you have distribution, people on your production team, they still need the director to maintain momentum and energy throughout distribution, especially on small art films. That constant day to day involvement in distribution hurts the long-term proclivity of art filmmakers. So you’re pushing back against one set of precedents or another, even when the film is done. Well, at Q&As, people consistently respond in one way or another to the fact that the film tells the story of a not-so-explored masculine character – a young emotionally vulnerable Black male. There’s this socially aware / activist energy present in reading the film for any “activist” intent in exploring that under-explored archetype. I’m aware that you do not see that character often, but I made the film so Namik would fall in love with me, it was an impulsive decision to make the film at all. It had nothing to do with me raging agains the machine and showing Black males cry by any means necessary! So a very small sub-section of the critical response hasn’t been accurate to my headspace when making the film. It was for her, about her, about us. At the same time, at the end of the day, something like this has not come along in a while, and that’s a valuable discussion. Why aren’t there enough films about Black men who are emotionally vulnerable? Why isn’t that a popular image in films? etc. I’m glad that discussion is being had around my film. You mentioned you finished a script called THE LOBBYIST, which you’re now casting, and you mentioned wanting to start shooting while OVERSIMPLIFICATION was being released – kinda as a joke, to avoid the release. There’s a lot of energy you gotta put into releasing a feature film theatrically, and it makes you realize that what you really wanna do with your time is MAKE films. The energy and feedback I get from screening the film is great, but it’s very clear to me that I’m most at ease and in my element when I am at home making stuff, writing, drawing and singing, and no matter how much the world tries to revise what a filmmaker is to encapsulate the process of presenting and distributing the film, this process has really made me learn that, y’know, my purpose is to make things. So I’m really trying to get back into that energy aggressively and conscientiously. Most days, I can’t, I’m still in the middle of this release, and luckily this film’s success heavily influences and enables the next project. So… I can’t, like, slack off.

(photo by Barbara Anastacio)

[ctcullum17-blog]

New Zealand! Day 0: Just An Ocean Away

Date of Reference: Friday, June 8, 2018

Memphis International Airport (MEM) is growing to be my favorite airport. See, what was once a hub for the now defunct Northwest Airlines has now lost significant traffic (and thereby passengers) running through the modestly sized facility. As a result of all of this, I was able to park my car, check in, walk through the security checkpoint, and find my gate in about 10 minutes. Let's see anyone do that at ORD or LAX!

MEM is currently undergoing a renovation that will effectively downsize the airport and update the concourses with more modern amenities. The New York Times recently wrote in more detail on the current status of Memphis' humble airport recently. I'll leave a link to that article and MEM's ongoing renovation intentions below, respectively:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/23/us/memphis-airport.html

http://www.flymemphis.com/modernization

New Zealand is the first nation to greet the day on the other side of the International Date Line. It is 15 hours ahead of US Central Daylight time (the time zone I live and work in.) My route to New Zealand takes me from Memphis to Houston, which is just over an hour flight. From Houston, it takes 15 hours to fly direct to Auckland, New Zealand. Currently, the Houston, TX, USA to Auckland, NZ route is the 7th longest flight in the world. Easy as pie! I can do that in my sleep... hopefully! Maybe I will be able to count the thousands of New Zealand sheep in my head as an attempt at sleep (more on New Zealand agriculture later…) Jet lag was something I definitely had to manage throughout the week.

I arrived to the airport a few hours before my 7 PM flight. Coming direct from work has its advantages in beating the 5 o'clock rush on the I-240 loop. While I awaited my flight from Memphis to Houston, I found some fun local paintings from students across the various high schools around the Memphis metro area.

The painting below was a fun fusion of the recognizable template of Egyptian hieroglyphs (a nod to Memphis, Egypt) while enfusing the many treasures Memphis, TN has to offer. See if you can find all the images that are associated with Memphis, TN! (I’ll put some details of images and locations underneath the picture)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Moving around the picture clockwise, starting with bottom left:

1.The Pyramid - Located in downtown Memphis, the Pyramid used to be a basketball coliseum and concert venue. After a few years sitting vacant as a result of the arrival of the newer FedEx Forum just off of Beale Street, Bass Pro Shops (a hunting and outdoor apparel department store) has moved in, converting this icon into a store, restaurant, bowling alley, hotel, duck museum, and skyline/Mississippi River observation deck, which is accessible by the largest free-standing elevator in the US.

2. Memphis Grizzlies Logo - The logo for the Memphis Grizzlies, the city's own NBA franchise.

3. Tiger - the mascot of the University of Memphis.

4. Corky’s BBQ logo - Corky’s is a popular regional franchise restaurant known for their fall-off-the-bone dry rub pork ribs.Seeing the pig in the chef’s hat is almost as synonymous as the wafting smell of smoked meat and charcoal.

5. Memphis In May International Festival Logo - Memphis In May is a month long festival of music, BBQ, and other various arts. It is Memphis’ largest event of the year, drawing several thousands of people into the city throughout its duration.

6. M - in reference to both the City and University of Memphis.

7. Gibson’s Donuts Logo - a highly popular local donut restaurant that's notorious across Memphis and is recognized by this logo.

8. Gibson Guitar - Memphis is the home of the famous Gibson Guitar company, where countless musicians have honed their craft strumming the smooth strings of this legendary instrument, assembled right here.

9. Music notes - Reference to Memphis as the home of the Blues and Rock and Roll (both BB King and Elvis Presley got their first big break recording at the Memphis studios).

10. Pharoah Elvis- I found this one very clever, as the pharaoh (king) in this painting depicts the “King of Rock and Roll”, Elvis Presley. His home, Graceland, can still to this day be visited in Memphis.

11. Memphis Red Bird Logo - Memphis is also home to a minor league baseball team known as the Redbirds. It’s an excellent chance to see some great talent play, many of whom go on to play in the Major Leagues. The Redbirds are also a scouting team for the MLB Franchise, St. Louis Cardinals.

12. Stax Museum Logo - While Memphis has many great stories of Rock and the Blues, it also has a rich history with Soul. Many of the hits found in the Soul genre were recorded at the Stax recording studio. While the studio is still in operation, it also functions as a well-curated museum.

13. The M Bridge - The M bridge is an icon of the downtown Memphis cityscape. It spans the entire length of the Mississippi River, connecting West Memphis, Arkansas to downtown Memphis, TN.

I arrived in Houston just in time to transfer to my 10:30 PM flight to Auckland. I was glad the flight was at night, as this encouraged me to get some much needed rest. Beyond the horizon, waiting for me on the other side of the world was a multitude of adventures I will certainly remember the rest of my life…

Stay tuned to this feed for more posts regarding my adventures in New Zealand! It was a phenomenal trip, and I look forward to sharing more stories and images of that beautiful place with you soon!

Chris

クリス

[porterenaudinprogress]

STUDIO DIARY - MAY 2020

Friday 8th May 2020

The last month, I've decided to write my studio diary in English. Maybe, this decision can seem to be a pretension to look like more ''international''. But, over and above the fact that I feel my work can be better welcomed in Anglo-Saxon countries than in France, it's for me a challenge to try to create my language. I don't want to write like a native speaker -I can't- but I want to write as somebody feeling free -by ignorance of course- to organize words and sentences as he wants. For sure, any native never writes really as a native because as Deleuze said, the writer always tries to stutter the language. And as a closer friend of mine often says, English is more an intestine language than french, it's the language of empiricism and of experiential approach par excellence. I also think that this longing comes to render my expression much less ampoulé. Write in English will help me to cushion the fall of a living thought on the floor of words. Maybe, French remains for me a language use as a power to escape from my native social environment. With English, that I read every day -through John Dewey's work- I'm ready to construct my own English made of my french winding way of think. In English, I write better hic et nunc.

There's many months ago, I wanted to develop mural sculptural propositions inspired by cameo craft. My longing was to make portraits of women. In this framework, I was very interested in Juno Ludovisi. I don't know exactly the perfect sense of this longing. I think it was made of an accumulation of discoveries and feelings. It was difficult for me to assume this idea to make portraits of women because I always depreciate this kind of process often reinforcing sexist biases, especially when it's an initiative of a man. I just say that feminity isn't feminism and isn't a female being. I was excited by the power of a word that I have invented: FRAUEUER composed of two German words: Frau and Feuer. Anyway, I made an experimentation with red cement and white plaster because I wanted to interrogate the cameo aesthetic in using my current building materials. Then, I forget this idea, dropping out my experiment in the studio. And now, for me, it's obvious that what I'm developing with WIND OF CHANGE is enough mature to reinvest this exploration about my fake cameo craft. For me, I'm always interested to explore ''hackneyed" aesthetic. I like to develop a historical filiation with sculptural craft that doesn't participate in the big path of art history. And honestly, when I was a child, I remember that my mother was very keen on medallions with cameo and that, among a big broken cake in the form of singer loved by my parents -showcased in the living room- and other stuff I'll describe the next time, the cameo was one my first sculptural emotion, on the same level that the white antic sculptures of the art and history museum of my birthplace.

Sunday 10th May 2020

Yesterday, I had a talk with SIAM about my series in progress, WIND OF CHANGE. I told her my hanging difficulties questionings. Because, at first, I thought add kitchen fix behind each sculptural proposition to hang to the wall as a classic art set up and then I was afraid by the tension between the weight of the artwork and its fragility. Then I thought as a hanging used for NIHIL #1 but at the same time, this hanging device  was included, if I can say, in the aesthetic finality of artwork. By the hazard of my web researches, I discovered the artist Richard Starbuck and his series named "Sludgegiggle" and "Dirtyscratchings" paintings which is inspiring to question deeper this essential aspect of WIND OF CHANGE. And SIAM told me she found the current hanging just perfect, id est, that each sculptural proposition is leaned against the wall. And when she told me that, I discovered that was true, not just for the reason she had given me -for her, these artworks look like between steles and paying cards- but it was consistent in my sculptural genealogy of gestures, always connected with the ground.

I'd beginning to read a book about research-creation in art, and all the day I've thought about what's my method. For a very practical description: when I arrived at the studio, my head was confusing by this new terrific technology: robot-dog in Singapore to ''help'' to keep a good social distancing at the occasion of the current health crisis. I need to draw something, it was clear. Then I've taken a paper and I've began to form a shape on the paper with my usual material: povidone-iodine, coal, and red clay. At present, all my work is invaded by a landscape made of ''uddered'' mountains. It's not automatic but I felt that it was exactly the necessary context to let emerge my trouble. And after, I've thought about this robot-dog... I was afraid to draw a dirty kitsch -very ''literal''- robot-dog. And I thought about a book which dragged in my studio about the nature representation in Ancient Egyptian art. And I was reminded of Anubis and the shape of typical Egyptian dog. In this way appeared a very interesting mythological short circuit. Furthermore, I'm sure that an idea is better when it is connected with something participating in his past. When I was between 12 and 18 I was fascinated by ancient Egypt as a kid of course but it was enough significant to settle an aesthetic layer in my grasp of the world. I've learned from 17 to 22 the ancient hieroglyphic language. When I started drawing, I made an association with the meat-grinder pattern. At the end of my work, I discovered something really interesting to develop because it proposes a new synthesis or new way which to lead me closer to the solution. You know the solution to the problem, that each of us has and for which you have, in fine, any resolution. But you're always searching for a short cut that you never found as David Vincent in ''The Invaders''! To finish, temporarily, I know my next painting work participating in my expanded sculptural practice and I make the connexion with a recovered material: disposable paper packages for food. In my work, I have always had an obsession with the relation between my height and the golden ratio... So, I've defined a format for the coming artwork (2.25 x 14.92 ft) Now, I've to categorize all these steps, maybe to define a method.

Friday 15th May 2020

A proposition for open call about Power and Invisible lines of power

Recognition #1 is a participative and immersive sounded sculptural proposition consisting of a very basic architectural layout in space, emerging as a drawing. This shape acts as a frontier in space, a delimitation very open -because without walls and roof- and closed at the same time - because very strong and hard in reason of its materiology-.

• This space is made of concrete iron bars, anti-bird spikes plaster. It remains minimalist sculptors as Toni Grand and Eva Hesse which are masters for me.

• On the floor, inside this space, there's an accumulation of little faces made in clay with a cast of my face.

• At every exterior corners of this architecture, there's a bust, hands crossed on the chest, with bird spikes in place of the head. Every bust is sounded and plays -with an inner speaker- an electronic guitar riff in a loop. They are like towers.

• Inside the space, there are three standing meat grinders.

All the described elements are inscribed in a genealogy of my work.

• From 2015, I've used anti-bird spikes to stabilize forms evoking something between the architectural waste and the animal. These forms acted like very abstract Schmerzensmann. Anti-bird spike is typically the avatar of the expression of a border between the scene and the obscene look that builds social space. Pigeon or homeless, these elements characterize a distancing of the bodies within the social body. • In this continuity in last December, in Milan, I was very impressed by old broken statues hung in height and covered in place of the head of this anti-bird spikes. In this sculptural proposition, each corner is like a guardian, that is to say, the one who fixes the invisible lines between the world which must be visible -the scene- and the one which must be hidden -the obscene-. It guards what it must be inside and outside the line of the authorized world in which the ''rights holders'' have power. These guardians ''utter'' a repetitive riff of guitar which grows back as much as it welcomes. This riff is extracted from a song I'm working on and I'll be broadcasting soon. It's named CRISIS. For me, a sculpture can become a song and vice versa. Here the sound reinforces the holist aspect of this space acting as an environment between the sacred enclosure of a temple and the scenic space for a rock band to give its show.

• While the guardians are headless, faceless; on the floor, there's an accumulation of little faces. From 2011, I've stabilized different sculptural propositions using this form. They are part of the same time in the build-becoming of the world as a sediment made  of individualities and in the dust-becoming of the world which people disappear because reified by time. Memory is a struggle against the natural reification of conscious beings.

• The meat grinder made its first appearance in my work in 2016. Since then, it has come up regularly as the ambivalent symbol of the perpetual collapse of things. A kind of crossed-out God as the sociologist Bruno Latour would say (c.f. We Have Never Been Modern) and at the same time as a representation of the motor of thermo-industrial society which increases the capacity of individuals to individuate in treating all other beings as if they were inert matter. These three standing meat grinders are diffusers of sound matter.

Recognition #1 is also a performative proposition. Before the event, I will collect sound matter in the streets of Singapore, based on a question that I will ask passers-by. When would you be ready to rise up? This question is very important to me because it directly concerns power and the shadow or light it casts on the demarcations that take place between people and social groups, these invisible lines. I draw this question from a reflection by Michel Foucault - about the role of the intellectual in society- which is very precious to me as an artist and a citizen. 

“The intellectual does not have to be the legislator, to make the law, does not have to say what must happen. I believe that its role is precisely to perpetually show how what seems to go without saying in what makes our daily life is arbitrary and fragile and that we can always rise up. And that there are perpetually and everywhere reasons not to accept it, reality as it is given and proposed to us.” (Michel Foucault)

To ask myself this question acts for me as a revealer of the invisible lines which enclose people in relationships of powers that consume them because they do not emancipate them. This collected sound matter will be accessible by turning the cranks of the meat grinders. Each visitor will be able to activate this mechanism. For the collection of this sound matter, I will, therefore, go to meet people, dressed in a suit on which I have been working for a few months. It is a full suit (shoe, mask, gloves, jumpsuit) bristling with anti-bird spikes. This costume, between zentei (ぜ ん て い) and bacteriological equipment, is being designed for the song CRISIS. 

So I foresee a performance during which I will invite two people from the public to slip into costumes similar to mine, bristling with anti-bird spikes, to join me in this sculptural and sounded space to manipulate and experience -in the rapprochement and the remoteness- of all the materials by the exhaustion of the architectural and sound structure of the space.

Recognition #1 is very inspired by the book of the philosopher Axel Honneth named Reification: A New Look at an Old Idea. From the hypotheses of Lukács for whom reification “constitutes a distorting ''Stance'' or mode of behavior that is so widespread in capitalist societies that it can be described as ''second nature''” (Axel Honneth, p. 25) whom he confronts with the theories of Heidegger and John Dewey. He is interested in the question of experience which precedes knowledge and which is the essential place for all ethical or ''sympathetic'' (in the sense of empathy) relationships with the other. In short, it is a question of fighting against the processes of reification which is the process of multiplication of invisible lines through which people try to sneak. Let us have for image the jewel protected by laser beams, the thief tries to avoid them to seize the good so much coveted without giving the alarm. Here the coveted good is, let us say it naively, a better life, at the risk of which the bodies of the individuals are cut off by the multiple invisible lines which categorize and assign them, thus dispossessing them of the action and the expressiveness of the world. We suffer from the opposition too much between subject and object which is the primary cause of the reification of beings.

“Like Lukács and Heidegger, Dewey is skeptical of the traditional view according to which our primary relationship to the world is constituted by a neutral confrontation with an object to be understood. Although he neither uses the concept of reification to characterize this doctrine nor shares the pathos of Heidegger’s worldview as far as the phenomenon that he is describing is concerned, Dewey agrees with these two thinkers that the predominance of the subject-object model cannot help but leave its impression on society’s conception of itself. He asserts with Heidegger and Lukács that the longer we hold on to the traditional opposition of subject and object, the more our life practices will be damaged, since cognition and feelings, theory and practice, science and art will thereby be more and more torn apart.” (Axel Honneth, pp. 49/50)

And as such we can say that modernity is the industrial tracer of invisible lines within the experiential world from the idea that the past belongs to natural such therefore the future always promises to make us cultural, civilized:

“The asymmetry between nature and culture then becomes an asymmetry between past and future. The past was the confusion of things and men; the future is what will no longer confuse them. Modernization consists in continually exiting from an obscure age that mingled the needs of society with scientific truth, in order to enter into a new age that will finally distinguish clearly what belongs to atemporal nature and what comes from humans, what depends on things and what belongs to signs.” (Bruno Latour, p. 77) 

Today we know the disasters of the invisible lines drawn by human subjects on the one hand and non-human objects on the other, we prevent ourselves from thinking as the hybrids produced by genetic and technological power.

Recognition #1 assumes the possibility of an emotional field before knowledge, this artwork acts as a presentiment, an existential mud aiming to bring us closer to each other, to mock invisible lines, to cross them ... This artwork “is concerned with arguing for the general priority enjoyed by a particular stance of engagement or recognition over all other forms of relating to the world; here I am concerned with showing that emotional receptivity comes before the transition to cognition of intersubjectively given objects in a strictly temporal sense”. (Axel Honneth, p. 45)

These invisible lines drawn by modernity that we must cross and this all the more since we save a distance from each other, that we all assume more or more consciously the role of guardian of the invisible lines which reifies us.

• Axel Honneth Reification: A New Look at an Old Idea, Oxford University Press, 2008

• Bruno Latour, We Have Never Been Modern, Harvard University Press Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1993, (original edition in 1991),  translated by Catherine Porter

• Michel Foucault, « ENTRETIEN INEDIT AVEC MICHEL FOUCAULT 1979 par   Farès Sassine »,  in le blog de Farès Sassine  Assassines, le 22/08/2014

available at this address: https://fares-sassine.blogspot.com/2014/08/entretien-inedit-avec-michel-foucault.html- translated by my very own self!

Saturday 23rd may 2020

Artists have a political commitment when they make pieces of art and they want to commit, through them, an alterity process. When this reception has happened, in the approach of Dewey1, these pieces of art become artworks. This artist doesn't look for an immediate reception. The public cannot exist for the moment and maybe never. But, profoundly, this inner and intimate commitment distinguishes the a-politic-artist of the politic-artist. That's the reason why it is so difficult for people who aren't artists to comprehend why a politic-artist -submerged in the deepest of anonymity, needs to endeavor that his/her work be expected. These people think that the unknown politic-artist -implied for them who doesn't sell his/her pieces of art in the very narrow international corridor of art market- needs to continue to work to create this public. The artist doesn't create to satisfy people, it doesn't look for customers, even if S/he has them... No, S/he is perpetually looking for a face to which to address his/her interpretation of the world. The politic-artist has any specific message or dogma to propose, is looking for a hermeneutic community based on his/her world embodiment. That's the reason why the politic-artist doesn't create to have fun during a long Sunday. (S)He creates for all faces that S/he doesn't see but who already are gazing at him/her. The politic-artist is happy with one thing, to make sense with this quest. Who's the a-politic-artist? Maybe, this one in confusion between customers and the public or between something-we-want-to-affirm and affirm-that-something-wants... I believe all artists are politic, even if they don't meet anybody or they don't want to explain that moves him/her in this quest. S/he hasn't to be social or to have a concrete political view on human organization of this time. S/he is a mediator between ghosts. 99,99% of our environment is made of ghosts. Culture is the legacy of dead and the artist proposes a path between the living of the past and the ghosts of the future. That's how I'm an artist.

1. “A work of art no matter how old and classic is actually, not just potentially, a work of art when it lives in some individualized experience. As a piece of parchment, of marble, of canvas, it remains (subject to the ravages of time) self-identical throughout the ages. But as a work of art, it is recreated every time it is esthetically experienced. No one doubts this fact in the rendering of a musical score; no one supposes that the lines and dots on paper are more than the recorded means of evoking the work of art. But what is true of it is equally true of the Parthenon as a building. It is absurd to ask what an artist ‘’really’’ meant by his product: he himself would find different meanings in it at different days and hours and in different stages of his own development. If he could be articulate, he would say ‘’I meant just that, and that means whatever you or anyone can honestly, that is in virtue of your own vital experience, get out of it.’’ Any other idea makes the boasted ‘‘universality’’ of the work of art a synonym for

monotonous identity. The Parthenon, or whatever, is universal because it can continuously inspire new personal realizations in experience.”

John Dewey, Art as Experience, First Perigee Printing, 1980, (first edition in 1934), pp. 108/109

[tessatechaitea]

Metamorpho #4

I cannot read "Bad Chemistry" without singing it and adding "Til the day I die!"

That feeling when you run into an ex after a lengthy period of time and think, "Oh yeah. We're gonna fuck!"

Sapphire and Rex pursue Simon and Jillian who have gone off to the pyramid to get the Orb of Ra back. Remember Mason's claim that archaeologist's can't trust their partners? I bet Simon betrays Jillian! He's really gone daughter-fucking crazy. When Rex arrives to stop them, Simon Stagg uses the Orb to hurt him while taunting, "Never come between a father and his special daughter!" So is that why Mark Waid pitched this story? Did he grow up reading Metamorpho comic books thinking, "Man, that old guy really wants to fuck his daughter!" Did he actually pitch that story to DC editors?! Mark: "Pictures this: a four part Metamorpho story where we learn Simon Stagg's entire motivation is getting into his daughter's lady cave!" DC Editor #1: "Remind me. What's a lady cave?" Mark: "Virgin!" DC Editors #2-4: "Ha ha! Good one, Mark. Augustyn is totally a virgin! It sounds like a great idea! Are you coming to our party later? Brian isn't invited!" Mark: "But don't you want to hear about how the Orb of Ra is a metaphor for Simon Stagg's penis?!"

"Touch it, Rex! Just touch it! Feel my cock's power!"

Sapphire falls into her dad's trap and tackles him to stop him from killing Rex. Simon Stagg gets a huge boner. Although he drops the Orb of Ra which is the symbol of his penis so maybe he actually loses his erection when he realizes his daughter has stood up to him. If Sapphire tackled me, my Orb of Ra would only get stronger! And it would probably go off instantly! While everybody else is distracted, Jillian grabs Stagg's penis and thinks, "The orb's still potent!" See? It's totally a penis metaphor. She runs off to the chamber at the top of the pyramid where the Orb is supposed to be able to cure somebody who has been metamorphosized. Rex manages to climb back to his feet and he notices some dust on the hieroglyphics that Conway missed. He blows it off and reads the final line of the cure and yells, "It's a cookbook! A COOKBOOK!" He then rushes off to save Jillian for some reason. Metamorpho gets to Jillian as she's bathed in the Orb's excretions. Apparently the cure wasn't meant to reverse the transformation but to complete it! So that's why Rex and Jillian look so gross. Because they're only half baked. Jillian turns into a pillar of salt and Rex shrugs his shoulders and goes off to find his son. Joey has made his way to the meteor room because archaeology is in his disgusting, modified blood.

Don't encourage him!

Rex and Sapphire hear Joey laugh in the chambers below and Rex realizes he's with the meteorite. So he and Sapphire run into the chamber to fetch him. Luckily Joey has turned the meteor to lead so Sapphire doesn't have to become Metamorphess. Also, Joey is cured! His skin is normal! He doesn't look like a freak anymore! And his grandfather is going to be pissed that the little brat didn't turn the meteor into gold before losing his powers. So the Mason's are once again a family and Sapphire plans to turn Stagg in for the murder of Java. But I guess that never happens. Or maybe it does happen but Superboy's punch and/or Mr. Mind's devouring of the DC Universe brought Java back to life and made us all forget that Simon Stagg loves incest. What am I? A scholar in DC Continuity?! Does that even exist?! Nerd! Metamorpho #4 Rating: B-. It's a decent story if not a little boring. The best part was how Mark Waid had the gall to make Simon Stagg into an incestuous murderer. It's almost as if he realized before the rest of us that evil narcissists expose themselves in their desire to fuck their daughters! It's practically prescient!

[airadam]

Episode 111 : Pay Attention!

"Classical soul, I got the nastiest flow"

- Sean Price

We had to open the show with an Aretha Franklin track to mark her sad passing this month, and you'll hear her essence at various points throughout the episode. I'm just about beating the buzzer to get this one out on time, but I'm sure you'll agree it was worth the effort!

Manchester shows for the month;

Beatnuts, The Bluntskins, Didjit, Air Adam | September 19th, Whiskey Jar

Havoc, Big Noyd, DJ L.E.S, Seven Spherez | September 24th, Joshua Brooks

Twitter : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Aretha Franklin : Rock Steady

We had to start things off with a classic from the Queen. This 1971 single from the "Young, Gifted, and Black" album isn't short on legends, with Donny Hathaway on electric piano and organ, and Bernard Purdie doing the business on the drums. A much covered and much sampled record, all trying to get just a hint of the flavour of the original. 

Pete Rock : Aretha

A perfect instrumental for me to come across this month, drawn from the golden period in which Pete Rock was on production for InI's unreleased (but heavily bootlegged) debut album. This beat wasn't used, but it comes to us courtesy of the 2017 "Lost Sessions" release alongside nine other previously-unreleased instrumentals.

[DJ Premier] Gang Starr : 92 Interlude

I just had to include this - an interlude beat from the "Daily Operation" LP that built around just a tiny incidental piece of a famous Aretha Franklin track and put other producers on notice when it comes to how Primo picks gold!

JR & PH7 ft. Chuuwee : Meadowview Morning

Thank you Spotify for dropping this one into one of my playlists! The German producers JR and PH7 have made a brief appearance on the show previously, but their work on this track from "The South Sac Mack" is really something. They come up with a jazzy but sombre instrumental which perfectly fits the trio of Sacramento MCs telling tales of life in their corner of the world. 

Hieroglyphics : Oakland Blackouts

Keeping it over on the West Coast, the Hiero crew have always been reliable as a source of bars upon bars. The "3rd Eye Vision" album is creeping towards twenty years old, but is still an excellent listen! Opio of Souls of Mischief is on production for this one.

Termanology : Are You Sure?

We don't hear Erick Sermon's name brought up enough when it comes to some of the greatest producers, so I'm glad Termanology linked up with him for this head-nod groove on his latest album "Bad Decisions". This is almost Term's version of Gang Starr's "The Planet", with him telling the story of coming to New York from Massachusetts and having to work to establish and hold his position. I won't give away the hook sample in case it's uncleared, but it's also a quality record :)

Sean Price : Director's Cut

This one has an unusual structure - a series of short two-bar "scenes" separated by two-bar sections of commentary. It's raw street business with a dash of humour as you'd expect from Sean P, gracing the Khrysis beat with some classic jewels. If you like this track, then the "Jesus Price Supastar" LP is a must in your collection.

DJ Agent M : Keeping Me In The Dark

Agent M is a producer and DJ from Leeds whose 2018 beat tape "Closure" is the sound of him working through a period of loss. This track is based around a classic sample, which is not just flipped for the sonics but also for the title.

Kev Brown : Voltron

It's been an extremely long wait for a proper follow-up to Kev Brown's 2005 debut LP "I Do What I Do", but finally he returns with "Homework" - twenty-nine tracks for a grateful audience! It's a partly vocal and partly instrumental album, with many tracks clocking in at under two minutes long. This was an initial standout for me, and while it's tickling my head as though there's a familiar sample, it wouldn't surprise me to find out that everything was played from scratch - Kev certainly has the capability.

The Game ft. Faith Evans : Don't Need Your Love

I've got to be honest - the lead-up to the release of The Game's debut album, "The Documentary" felt like one of the first times I felt as though the industry was really trying to force-feed an artist into the scene. He'd only been rapping for a relatively short time (for that era) before this LP came out, and has to be credited for building his skills in such a short time, but the Dr. Dre co-sign and G-Unit affiliation was of course what put him over the top. He's still active nowadays though, and has absolutely earned his place. Anyway, the first album had two tracks I really enjoyed - "Put You On The Game" and this, a track straight from the heart with Faith Evans blessing the hook. Havoc of Mobb Deep is on production with a beat that isn't what you might expect from him in terms of sound, but is right there at the standard of quality that he'd set.

DJ Cam ft. Cameo : Love Junkee (Dilla Remix)

You may or may not know it, but you cannot deny that this is a serious tune! The original was cool, in a relaxed and organic way, with Cameo an extremely welcome guest to proceedings,  but Dilla turned it into a banger. Incredibly minimal on the surface, but packed with lots of little subtleties if you listen closely enough. If you can hear past that thumping low end! Get yourself a digital copy of both versions, and thank me later.

Zapp : Computer Love

I've said it before, but Zapp were something like fifteen years ahead of the advent of internet dating! This is a stone classic record, sampled and flipped countless times, and one which I'm glad to have enjoyed as a new track when it was released back in 1985! Shirley Murdock features as half of the lead vocal duet alongside Charlie Wilson of The Gap Band, and the great Roger Troutman (RIP), who also wrote the song, comes in on the talkbox. Apparently Charlie Wilson's record label thought this wasn't going to be a hit...I assume much crow has been eaten since! You can find this as a single, on the "The New Zapp IV U" album, and on many compilations.

Onra : Wait A Minute

This needed a bit of additional looping to be long enough to fit here, but it fit so well in terms of sound that it had to be done. It's taken from the new "Nobody Has To Know" album, the instrumental story of a secret relationship.

Sean Price : 60 Bar Dash

Sean P again with a stream of the disrespectful lines we love him for, on a record from relatively early in his solo career - you can find this on the B-side of the "Boom Bye Yeah" 12" single. PF Cuttin is on production, working a break you might know from the first Diamond D album.

De La Soul : The Art Of Getting Jumped

I always enjoyed this one and the 80s Aretha sample that makes up the hook! Underrated but big tune from the "Art Official Intelligence : Mosaic Thump" album, all about those times when the pack strikes and isn't concerned with fighting fair...

Eric B & Rakim : Set 'Em Straight

If you don't have the "Let The Rhythm Hit 'Em" album, then you probably don't know this track - it wasn't a single, it's not a club track, but my goodness, it's dope. The title is perfect, as Rakim takes the time to primarily put other MCs in check, but also correct one or two false rumours of the time, including that that he was supposedly locked up on Rikers Island for selling drugs. Pure heat from the very early 90s.

Blade : Rough It Up

Long before his union with Mark B (RIP) that many of you will know him for, Blade was an MC who absolutely personified the grind and the real DIY attitude. His first LP, "The Lion Goes From Strength To Strength", was in my opinion the original crowd-funded album, and the determined and defiant nature required to undertake such a task in 1991 is evident on this early 12"! He's talking about his real life right down to washing dishes to pay the bills, over a soup of funk cooked up by his own hand alongside the underground legendary engineer/producer "No Sleep" Nigel. I learned about this record when Pete Tong played it as a brand new tune on Radio 1, and it made me a Blade fan for life.

K-Def : Get A Clue

I needed something funky for this spot, and with the help of a bit of looping to make it a suitable length, I found it on K-Def's "Willie Boo Boo" collection, which is one that the beat heads should definitely have in their collections.

Aretha Franklin : Young, Gifted, and Black

What can you say? I thought this soaring anthem would be a great record to end the episode on. Nina Simone was the original writer (with Weldon Irvine) and performer of this song, back in 1969, but just three years later Aretha released this incredible version as the title track of her eighteenth (!) studio album. I certainly remember hearing many versions of this track as a child, and this is the perfect time to bring it out for all of you. Turn up the volume and take in the mastery.

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

[xanthealtonedwards-blog]

Eno’s Ambient Breakthrough

Xanthe Alton-Edwards

Brian Eno, self-proclaimed “non-musician”, producer of countless albums and co-collaborator to artists like David Byrne of Talking Heads, is perhaps most importantly associated with the pioneering creative work he did for the ambient music genre.

In 1975, Eno was hit by a car and suffered a serious laceration on his head. While taking time off work to recover, his girlfriend at the time would play vinyls of harp music while the volume was adjusted to blend in with the sound of rain. One day, the volume was set too low and one of the speakers had blown, but Eno, while letting the music play out at a near inaudible volume, discovered a new way of listening; ambient listening.

What spawned the idea of actually recreating something like what he had experienced with the vinyl blending into the environment was the want for music to soothe his anxieties about flying while waiting in airports.

Working with layer upon layer of looped tape tracks consisting of piano, vocals, guitars, and other instruments, Eno worked toward creating his breakthrough ambient record, “Ambient 1: Music for Airports”. Experimenting in improvisational sessions with groups of musicians, Eno would instruct them with ideas like playing the note C every 21 seconds, or to all play at the same time while ignoring each other.

“...listening back, later, I found this very short section of tape where two pianos, unbeknownst to each other, played melodic lines that interlocked in an interesting way. To make a piece of music out of it, I cut that part out, made a stereo loop on the 24-track, then I discovered I liked it best at half speed, so the instruments sounded very soft, and the whole movement was very slow.” -nerdist.com

The goal of creating music that played ad infinitum, that became a part of the environment, never repeated, and was there as long as you wanted it to be was realised in full in with the release of “Reflection”, Eno’s 26th solo album and the creation of an app of the same name. The Reflection app was not limited by the repetitive constraints of vinyl or CD. It creates endless and forever changing versions of Reflection.

Predecessors of the genre like Terry Riley inspired Eno to use experimental and generative techniques while producing his ambient records. However, what sets Eno apart from those producers is the introduction of new technologies into the production aspect. He employed systems to make his music, a part of production he found to be more important than conventional musical scores (of which none can be found for Music for Airports. Instead you will find hieroglyphic-like diagrams demonstrated in the image below).

http://www.trustmeimascientist.com/2014/03/03/brian-eno-ambient-1-music-for-airports/

Artists have long since followed in Eno’s footsteps ever since his genre defining releases. Richard David James, also known by his alias Aphex Twin, has also prominently made his mark on the genre by releasing highly acclaimed collections of ambient tracks – just like Eno. He has been praised by and has also collaborated with Eno himself. Previously releasing acid techno records under a different alias, in 1992 James released a record of ambient tracks titled “Selected Ambient Works 85- 92”. This acclaimed album was produced using some of the same sampling and looping techniques Eno used in “Ambient 1: Music For Airports”.

Ever since developing the production techniques he used for “Ambient 1”, Eno has reused them for later endeavours, such as the use of sampling on David Byrnes album “My Life in the Bush of Ghosts”, which was released in 1981. That album itself used a method of heavy sampling that had yet to be seen in the era it was released.

Eno used his studio like an instrument itself. He transformed the production aspect into an artform, never limiting himself, always pushing forward with experimental ideas. This is a technique I admire immensely. I am not a musician in any capacity, but I want to produce music with my own creative fingerprint attached to it.

Being a blank slate as far as experience and knowledge is concerned, I think, is an advantage in a way. I’m free to experiment, to test boundaries, to go through as much trial and error as I need. I think this is exactly what Eno did when he created “Music For Airports”. In the 70s, the ambient music genre was only just breaking through and he chose to spearhead that movement. Because nothing like what Eno accomplished had been done before, there was no template, no known production techniques for him to draw upon. Only through trialling new ideas and employing new technologies did he find what he was looking for.

References

Ivan Hewett. (2018). How Brian Eno created a quiet revolution in music. Retrieved from

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/music/artists/how-brian-eno-created-a-quiet-revolution-in-music/

Voyce, M. (2018). Audio Rewind: Why Brian Eno’s MUSIC FOR AIRPORTS is an Ambient

Masterpiece | Nerdist. Retrieved from https://nerdist.com/audio-rewind-why-brian-enos-music-for-

airports-is-an-ambient-masterpiece/

Madden, B. (2014). Brian Eno – “Ambient 1: Music For Airports”. Retrieved from

http://www.trustmeimascientist.com/2014/03/03/brian-eno-ambient-1-music-for-airports/

Beta, A. (2017). Brian Eno: Reflection Album Review | Pitchfork. Retrieved from

https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/22714-reflection/

Brian Eno : Reflection | GenerativeMusic.com. Retrieved from

http://www.generativemusic.com/reflection.html

English, L. (2018). A beginner's guide to the foggy wilderness of ambient music. Retrieved from

http://theconversation.com/a-beginners-guide-to-the-foggy-wilderness-of-ambient-music-91742

Richardson, M. (2002). As Ignorable As It Is Interesting: The Ambient Music of Brian Eno | Pitchfork.

Retrieved from https://pitchfork.com/features/resonant-frequency/5879-resonant-frequency-17/

Sherburne, P. (2017). A Conversation With Brian Eno About Ambient Music | Pitchfork. Retrieved

from https://pitchfork.com/features/interview/10023-a-conversation-with-brian-eno-about-ambient-

music/

[growmyspirit]

The FLÅCETT

The FLÅCETT (’floss-it’) is a painting that took me 6 months to create.

For the past year, I had been introduced to journaling. Free-form writing, from the soul, with no purpose other than to clear my mind and see what or who I was inside.

I enjoyed the process very much. The simple act of free writing was one of the most joyous experiences of my life.

The time had come to traverse from the pages to the paint, a different description of the same mind. What would come out? What was inside?

I painted a few small paintings to practice. I was happy with how they came out.

I had just moved, and knew that this new home, this new city, would pull a new picture from me. I didn’t know what it would be…

...only that it would be big.

One day I was scribbling in my day planner and started to experiment with a single pattern. The pattern developed from the question, ‘How can I utilize all 4 playing card suits in the same frame? And what would it mean?”

Cards are legendary, wholesome, activated. There must be great power in their design. Together, collected, connected, I feel there is a wholeness and a feeling of infinite pathways to follow.

To accentuate depth and the intrinsic repetition of pattern, the diamond sits in a diamond. Who knows what lays inside of the blackness? Maybe the same as the pattern in light, if viewed from a different perspective.

One question became two, became more than 4, and the creative process continued.

This was my first time constructing anything of this size, other than an ego. Trying to tape an equal square, I felt as an under-qualified kindergartner, knowing my lines would be crooked. I came to appreciate the imperfectness of the shapes.

They say there is no perfect circle. In only two dimensions, it cannot exist without over or under looping itself in our radiating environment. In, or out. Constant fluidity.

My shapes represent a balance of structure and flow. At least that’s what I told myself when my measurements were ‘off’.

I loved painting and I loved overcoming the challenge. I set up an artist’s studio in the empty garage and claimed the space as my own. When it rained, I ran out to throw protective towel dikes around the cardboard base, protecting my painting from the ‘flow’ of the outdo’.

To prepare for a painting session, I would light a candle, light some incense, light some sage, and walk around the painting to bless the space. Then, I would turn on some classical/meditative/jazz/hip hop/house/nu-disco music and go to work.

Sometimes I would paint in silence.

Sometimes I would paint for 10 minutes, sometimes for hours. I found that varied painting strokes developed into what best can be described as amateur hieroglyphics. I started to use the painting as calligraphy class, no lessons except the attempted acceptance of natural pattern.

I reached into the air to pull patterns and hoped they would combine in straight lines. Why I hoped this, I don’t know, but I found it freeing not to think about the meaning of what I was ‘writing’, only that I was indeed expressing something natural, external as of moments ago.

As my painting progressed, calligraphy class continued, and I experimented with the concept of expressing a singular focused feeling through free form shape.

I was finished with the painting, left with white lines. My original vision was always for the painting to double as a road map. This map needed directional streets, so I added regular writing. To me, the infinite pathways of the connected shapes are balanced by a concrete, singular pathway of the words. The hieroglyphics serve as an intermediary, while all of the above remain invisible if one chooses to see only a painting.

I was happy when I put on the final touches.  I spent the next three weeks adding more ‘final touches’. There are many torments to overcome as an artist. I was grateful for the opportunity to battle these demons. Many are now presented on paper, no longer present or a priority...

...Until we meet again, for the next expressive test.

I am proud to say, I tried my best.

Joseph Daniel Muzzin