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pastelpaperplanes · 4 years ago

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hey, i really like your art and love the way you draw cybertronians! i have a question if you don't mind me asking, do you have any advice on drawing cybertronians? especially in the tfa style?

YES!! ABSOLUTELY I DO!!!

if it’s not already obvious which style/continuity is my fav (coughCOUGH tfa) then this long ass answer will surely tell you

The speciality of tfa I’d probably pinpoint on the fact that most if not all of the designs have the most ‘organic’ look compared to IDW or TFP per say.

Everyone is super simplified but still recognized by either icons key features or colors, their edges are simplified or smoothed, practically no one is made primarily of boxes, and each and every character can easily be named by looking simply at their silhouette—even the characters that are made from the same model.

Despite all this it’s also by far the most basic, yes unique transformers style, which I think is incredibly impressive and CLEVER so big kudos to djw and his team!

I’ve seen a lot of recommendations against this what drawing transformers—but for me my go-to when drawing a tfa bit is to sketch an overly simplified human base, then exaggerate from there, because honestly there’s not as much ‘breaking down’ or angles/perspective when it comes to building out the armor in tfa as there would be for smth like G1 or IDW

Cuz like I mentioned earlier I think tfa is the most organic looking style. Fairly rarely are there boxy thighs, ridged necks, or blocky torsos—if anything many characters look like they could be packing muscle underneath their armor! So yes for me starting with a humanesque base for tfa

These more organic bases aren’t all there is though of course. While Optimus looks like he has a stocky core build, Swindle looks like he has a Flat Stanley origin story. Or while Prowl has very slim and defined limbs (probably has the most humanly proportionate frame), Oilslick looks like he’s been sent through a radioactive taffy stretcher. Tfa does a great job of having very basic guidelines that are stretched thinly to what a lot of the times makes sense to the character’s personality as well

Body build/body language and carefully crafted palettes are what really brings out the personality of a character BEFORE you dive into their bio. Tfa immediately jumps into these key design components that are recognizable from the get go, honestly I think it makes the characters all that more lovable.

For example, just by looking at Prowl you’d assume that automatically we are looking at that team emo, OR voice of reason on his team. His lanky frame and darker/muted palette suggest that he is serious and calculating/not one to pick a fight IMMEDIATELY as his spindly figure doesn’t look like it can take much damage—but can absolutely move stealthily, quick as hell

And then we look at Bee. Our dear yellow ass eyesore of a bot who is built looking like he’s prepped for one hell of an adrenaline junky fueled crash with that padding and obnoxious palette that screams happy-go-lucky all bright and loud

So yes just colors and body builds tell us a lot about those two characters and that’s not even touching on alt mode or design patterns >:33 tfa is so FUNNNNN

eh with tfa I’ve just seen how most often times color palettes are generally maxed out at 5 colors, and there’s a rotation of one to three unique designs placed about the characters

Bee has solid colors and a massive focus on stripes all around, eye catching and sporty!

Blitzwing has duller colors and sturdy/blocky rectangles all around like his canons and pouches, the ‘hat and pants’ combo is a nod to an aviator’s uniform—he’s must be a strong as hell military grade flier bot!

Sentinel is shiny as hell and streamlined like a picture perfect poster soilder boy, he’s built like the iconic ‘triangle shaped’ weight lifting monster of a superhero, but his rigid uniformity and ‘perfection’ absolutely leans towards looking snobby and and rule-oriented.

Overall, when it comes to drawing tfa or making a tfa character—pay attention to simplified but meaningful colors, builds, nods to their (sometimes connected to their personality) alt mode—and you’ll do just fine.

I’ve done my best to take these observations into my own designs! A lot of my OCs are fan children—so keep in mind I’ve had it VERY easy in terms of ehh a base to start with seeing as I’ve pulled their design from two official designs and merging them where I see fit

Like examples would be my characters Papillon and Firstwatch. Papi is delicate and slim like a butterfly (hence the name) but his sharp angles and dark but rich palette suggests he’s a conniving little bastard. Firstwatch is buff but soft colored and ROUND, made to look like a gentle giant, a teddy bear even suggestive we’re looking at a soft-spoken sweetheart

Even then!!!! Tfa is not at all rule oriented in design, go ham and have fun with proportions and those randomized palettes!! Haha pls what I’ve observed on how tfa goes about their designs should be taken w a grain of salt, maybe Bee’s highlighter color is not that deep and maybe Sentinel has thigh highs because he LIKES them and not just for a perfect soldier look

Best advice I’d have for TFA would be cram as much personality as you can into your designs/posing/expressions as you can according to the character because they sure as hell have plenty to give! Use those organic shapes to your advantage. Tfa’s basic designs are simplified as hell—you can have a blast stylizing them the more you drawn the characters!!

#this is #a lot #basically my love letter to tfa #but ehhh it’s kinda hard to describe how to best go about tfa when it LOOKKS like there’s some design rules #but EVRYONE is unique #and that there’s a general ruling for builds and palettes #but then you have FUN AS HELL anomaly characters #literally every point can be contradicted in the best most fun way and it’s frustrating as hell but it makes tfa that much more COOL to #experiment with #this is.#a lot of word barf.#dear anon I may have answered a question similar to this and more COHERENTLY so pls check out the ‘helpful’ tag too #>>#helpful #asks

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skullsandwineglasses · 4 years ago

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Arsenal Military Academy (2019) Full Review

My first impressions of episodes 1-13 can be found here. I think I was a little dubious at first, but now that I’ve finished the drama, I have to say that I really enjoyed it. This is going to be a short(ish) review because I just don’t have much to complain about. [SPOILERS AHEAD]

The Leads

Xu Kai shines as Gu Yanzhen. Much more than he did as Mo Qing in The Legends. Gu Yanzhen is just such a fun character. While yes, he is an overgrown and spoiled rich kid, he has a great character arc. He learns how to be responsible, caring, devoted, and considerate. Whether it’s love or serving his country, once he’s devoted to something, he’ll put his whole heart into it, which makes him a great friend and leader. And despite his maturation and all that he’s been through, he still stays cheeky and playful until the end.

That’s what I really like about this drama. It’s consistent. Both in terms of plot and character. And for cdramas, consistency is something that’s often butchered. This drama is 48 episodes long, which was perfect for developing all the plot points in the story. At first I was worried about the length. But the plot is so well-paced. There was no filler, and if there was, then I didn’t even noticed because I enjoyed all of the scenes and interactions between the characters.

Bai Lu was great at switching between cross-dressing as her brother, and being her “true” self. She carried off being both masculine and feminine, and I enjoyed seeing these two sides of her character. What I also appreciated about this drama is how even when she is revealed to be a girl, nothing really changes in terms of how she acts or how she’s treated by others. Her classmates still call her by her brother’s name. She wears the same clothes, talks the same, walks the same. Of course, by that point, most people have already found out, but for the characters who haven’t found out yet, they don’t dwell on this revelation. They don’t say sexist things about her appearance or mannerisms. They treat her the same as they always have. At first, I was worried that the drama would have a dramatic plot shift after her identity is officially revealed, but there wasn’t a shift. Her reveal was actually not that big of a plot point. (Yes, she was put in prison and accused of killing the chief, but this was resolved in like 2-3 episodes). It blended in seamless with the rest of the plot, and there were bigger issues in the story to address.

In my First Impressions review, I complained that Xie Xiang was a bit of a flat character. I still think she’s a little underwhelming in comparison to some of the other characters in the drama, but she was watchable and relatable, and she definitely grew on me more as the drama went on. I also applaud her for recognizing her feelings for Gu Yanzhen (I was worried that the drama would make her be conflicted between them), but she did frustrate me a little with how she couldn’t be upfront with Shen Junshan and just strung him along.

Again, I liked seeing the different sides of her character. Xie Xiang was never a tomboy growing up. She likes theatre and the arts. She likes acting, dancing, and singing. She likes dressing up and accessorizing (when appropriate). Her best friend, Tan Xiao Jun, acts as a foil and shows us what Xie Xiang is really like (or used to be before joining the academy). But her brother was a huge influence and inspiration for her. She learned how to fight from him. She learned what is means to be righteous and fight for justice from him. But she doesn’t want to become him; she just wants to fulfill his dreams. In the academy, she isn’t the best student, nor does she want to be. She doesn’t want to compete with the others, but she just wants to best the best cadet that she can be. It’s all about challenging herself and pushing her own limits, not comparing herself to everyone else in the class.

Supporting Characters

All of the secondary characters are great. Side characters and villains all served a unique purpose. Villains, such as Jin Xin Rong and the bully in the academy, were sympathetic characters. They all had their own backstories and development arcs, but they didn’t detract from the focus on the leads. In fact, the drama never strayed from the leads, unlike some cdramas were sometimes the focus would move away from the protagonists as the drama dragged on. Importantly, all the subplots were interwoven, and each mission that they completed progressed the plot and developed character relationships. I had a lot of praise for Qu Manting in my First Impressions review, so I won’t go into it again here, but she was a great second female lead (even though I did wish that she had less scenes with Gu Yanzhen). I was also surprised that she’s my age (and also Xu Kai’s age). She’s such a mature and steady actor.

Edit: Just found out that Toby Lee who played Shen Junshan was the guy in Soulmate?? Didn’t recognize him at all.

Plot

I loved the humour in this drama. It was quick, witty, and smart. But the drama did take a serious turn in the last arc where there were deaths of 3 prominent supporting characters, which was really surprising. I thought the drama would be a light-hearted comedy all the way through. So when I saw that it was possible for a prominent supporting character to die, I realized that there could be some real and serious consequences for characters in the drama.

Speaking of deaths, I was also surprised by the amount of violence and liberal killing in the drama. The cadets at the academy never hesitated to kill, and murdering people never affected them. The writers justified the deaths by dismissing the victims as being traitors to the country, whether they were just a driver or security guard for the Japanese or a Japanese nurse or doctor. If they were affiliated with the Japanese and got in the way of a mission, then the leads would kill them. At times it felt like a video game because the cadets would use so much gunpowder to just plow through anyone who was an inconvenience to the mission. The drama also really advocates revenge, which was also really shocking. Revenge can be engaging to watch when it’s fictional, but I don’t morally agree with revenge, so I was surprised that a drama with so much killing and a revenge fetish was allowed to get past censorship.

Overall, the plot was really good. The drama rarely ever dragged, except for maybe episodes 22-26 where it felt like Gu Yanzhen didn’t really have anything to do with the main plot, but the drama recovers quickly after that. Episodes 16 and 31 are probably my favourite in terms of interactions between the ML and FL. 17-22 are when they’re separated and bond with the supporting leads instead. That was clearly a purposeful move by the writers. They gave us peak sweetness between the leads and then separated them immediately afterwards. Those episodes made me worry that they would be angst, but there wasn’t. Those episodes showed that even when the leads were separated and went through hardships with someone else, they still thought about each other. Again, another example of how every mission progresses the plot and develops character.

In terms of the romantic plot, I would say that about three quarters of the drama is about characters liking people who don’t like them back, and what you get is a convoluted love rectangle that expands to a pentagon. What I like about Gu Yanzhen is that while he can be childish and obnoxious, he gives Xie Xiang a lot of space. There were some scenes when either Huang Song or Shen Junshan was trying to pursue her and I was like, why isn’t Gu Yanzhen here to intervene? But then I realize that it’s actually good that he isn’t constantly stalking her. Gu Yanzhen may seem possessive at the academy, but he doesn’t prevent her from doing things either on or off campus. On the other hand, when Shen Junshan figures out Xie Xiang’s true identity, he acts entitled to her to the point where it feels manipulative. He would tell Xie Liang Chen that he’s meeting Xie Xiang for lunch, knowing that this would prompt Xie Xiang to dress up and rush off campus to meet him. He changed her room without asking her first, saying it was for her own good. I might have to rewatch the earlier episodes, but I don’t think Gu Yanzhen ever used her secret to underhandedly leverage power against her like that. I don’t think he ever tried to “test” her. It was only after she found out that he knew when he started to teasingly blackmail her with her secret in order to get her to wash his clothes or be nice to him, but this was done upfront to her face, so she knows what she’s dealing with. And also despite being constantly annoyed by him, Xie Xiang feels very comfortable with him. She trusts him. She knows that no matter what, he would never share her secret, so she was able to be herself with him from the beginning. In contrast, there was always a distance and formality between Xie Xiang and Shen Junshan, even though they went through a lot together.

The bigger question is why Gu Yanzhen fell for Xie Xiang instead of Qu Manting. I think it has to do with how Gu Yanzhen likes who he is whenever he’s with Xie Xiang. Manting is too much like his playboy self, so it always feels like he’s putting on an act or playing a game when he’s with her. They clash too much and both have huge egos, even though Manting has done so much for him and has seen him at his most vulnerable. But Xie Xiang is someone whom he wants to unconditionally protect and support. He teases and flirts with her, knowing that he’ll get a scolding and a beating. He wants to expend energy with Xie Xiang, but is fatigued with Manting. Xie Xiang is simple, down-to-earth, and has a purpose. She’s everything he isn’t. She anchors him, while he gets her to open and loosen up in what is otherwise a threatening and uptight environment. A classic example of how opposites attract.

The Ending

The main character of this drama is the academy. Go figure since that’s the drama’s name. So it made sense that the final shot would be of the academy. Gu Yanzhen and Xie Xiang are shown walking off into the sunset just before that. And while I was really curious to see what their life would be like beyond the academy (I mean, what skills do they even have besides military prowess? What are they even going to do in terms of careers?), it made sense that the last shot we see of them is them leaving the academy. Their future is left to the imagination, almost like a fairy tale. That’s because their story is only one of many that comes out the academy. Their future is uncertain, but the future of the academy is certain. The academy is like a beacon, and it will continue to be here even long after the leads are gone.

The deaths of Huang Song and Instructor Guo were just tragic. Huang Song never got to find out Xie Xiang’s true identity despite being her closest friend, and he had such a bright future and so many goals. Instructor Guo, who spent the last 2 decades in depression, never got to have his happily ever after. Li Wen Zhong finally redeemed himself, and yet the writers had him sacrifice himself. I thought their deaths were needless, but I did see how their deaths had narrative purpose. It still really, really sucks though.

I think I’ll give this drama an 8.5/10 if not a 9/10. It’s been a while since I last watched a drama with consistent pacing. Wish I could watch this drama for the first time again.

Going to end the review with some pictures.

The worldbuilding was really immersive thanks to the costumes, colour grading, OST, and set designs.

Look at the power stances of this ensemble cast. They’re unstoppable.

I can’t get over these two. Such a different dynamic from The Legends, but still so much chemistry.

And deleted scenes though!! I don’t remember this sit-up scene in the drama.

#arsenal military academy #烈火军校 #xu kai #bai lu #cdrama #白鹿 #许凯 #cdrama review

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 4 years ago

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My sexual re-education in the Unification Church

All that heaven allows

I learned the identity of my husband-to-be at the end of a forty-day Divine Principle workshop. Situated in upstate New York, the Unification theological seminary had the hushed libraries, dorms and chapel of a medieval monastery. As my footsteps echoed through the stark, stone hallways, I imagined hooded friars whispering beside me. On the final evening, a Korean minister announced from a pulpit the name and nationality of each student’s “eternal spouse.” Mine was Gabriel from Ecuador.

One week after the workshop, all eligible members were sent to Korea, where we would be blessed in marriage along with 30,000 other couples. Gabriel and I met for the first time in the waiting room at JFK airport. I wore a navy skirt suit, my hair in a french pleat. Gabriel wore a gray jacket, white shirt and gray tie, his wiry hair slicked back into a solid black helmet. I’m five-four; he was a significant inch shorter than me. In our photographs from that day, we stand inches away from each other, staring at opposite ends of space, our bodies pointing keenly apart, our lips stretched vaguely upward in imitations of smiles.

One of the sisters with whom I shared a room said Gabriel looked like a miniature Sylvester Stallone. Another said he was the best-looking brother of the bunch. Occasionally I see someone and immediately feel that I want to know them better. Gabriel’s face did not have that quality. I felt bemused as I regarded this person — my soul mate — who was a total stranger. If he had approached me in the street, I would have walked away.   

Two years earlier, in 1990, I had walked away from my family, my apartment in London, my friends, and the man I loved to enter the Unification Church, a.k.a. “the Moonies,” a Christian sect which originated in Korea and is led by the Rev. Sun Myung Moon, who claimed that Jesus Christ had appeared to him when he was sixteen. I had just produced a TV documentary called Soul-Searching, which was funded by the Arts Council of Great Britain. One of the men I interviewed was a Unification Church member named Jurgen.

After the documentary was finished, I crossed Jurgen’s path several times in one week. This seemed fateful. On my way home from the Cafe de Paris one night, I saw him standing on Charing Cross Road, a tall, potbellied, balding German with sensual lips and cold sores, drenched with rain at three a.m. I wondered: what would possess anyone to stand outside at all hours, in any weather, to ask people to talk about the “purpose of life”? 

We talked. Jurgen told me about the “Divine Principle,” which I later learned was Unification theology. He explained that true love could exist only in a monogamous marriage, blessed by God, and that my relationship with my lover was wrong. He promised that if I dedicated my life to God, my brother, who had recently been diagnosed with schizophrenia, would be healed.

Tired of my unfaithful lover and frustrated by my inability to help my brother, I was attracted to the extreme nature of the group. They asked me to leave my life behind, claimed they had a living messiah. I agreed to try it out for three months, knowing that once I was in, it would not be so easy to walk away.

I felt pious when I covered my body in frumpy pantsuits, shaved off my hair (against the church’s wishes), spent my days raising money for the church, praying and vowing never again to think about sex. During four years of living in church centers in London, Edinburgh and New York, I enjoyed cultivating my lack of desire, pushing out thoughts of sex the instant they surfaced, focusing on one aim: I will save my brother. I will do anything necessary to help those who are suffering.

▲ The author with Gabriel during the marriage ceremony.

Inside the church centers, men and women referred to each other as brothers and sisters, to emphasize the absence of sexuality in our relationships. We slept in different areas, sat on opposite sides of the room during meetings — the brothers always above, to the right, or in front, to signify their superior status. This subtle detail sank into the minds of the women, helping them realize they were in the “object position” and should follow the men’s lead. This viewpoint was reinforced regularly: Women were shorter because they should look up to men. Women had big hips because they were made to sit down. Women couldn’t run. In sex, women should be underneath.

I heard about the blessing of marriage but imagined I would never attain the “level of perfection” necessary to participate. One elder brother defined perfection as the state whereby everyone you meet feels loved by you. I knew that my ability to love fell short.    

During the fifteen-hour flight to Seoul, I had the window seat; Gabriel took the aisle. I had no idea what to say to him. He told me that he was raised as one of nine brothers and sisters in an Ecuadorian mountain village which still had no garbage collection and barely had running water. His elder sister had nursed him at the same time as her own son. Our backgrounds couldn’t have been more different. I grew up with my mother and brother in the English countryside, in an eccentric, artsy broken family.

“Repeat after me,” he whispered. “Te quiero.”

“Te quiero.” I knew what it meant but attached no importance to the words. “I love you.”

I remembered Jurgen’s speech to me on the night I joined the church. “Never flirt with brothers,” he had said, fixing me with a glare. This meant no touching, no staring, no flattery, no immodest body language, no fantasizing. Now I glanced at Gabriel’s steady tar-black eyes. Had I failed to learn a new set of rules now that I was preparing for marriage? Was flirting now required? Or was I supposed to maintain chastity while he taunted me with romance?

“When I saw your picture, I thought you were too old for me,” Gabriel said. I was twenty-eight. Although he was a year older, Gabriel considered himself hot, eligible and worthy of a much younger wife. “But I liked your lips,” he continued, emboldened. “I dreamt that you were a prostitute. I saw you wearing a short dress and red lipstick and you were almost falling over. I thought, that is a sick woman.” He paused, allowing this image to linger. “Tell me about your boyfriends.”

“We’re not supposed to talk about that.”

“I had sex with a prostitute,” he said, “but I believe that makes me more pure because I didn’t have a relationship with the person. I had a girlfriend also, in Ecuador, but she went out with someone else,” he continued.

I imagined Gabriel’s girlfriend, a petite, pretty Ecuadorian girl in her late teens, with thick, glossy black hair that reached down to her thighs. I imagined them dancing together at a family party, and felt sorry for him. I wished she hadn’t broken his heart.

Confused by my distraction, Gabriel leaned over. “I am a crazy lover,” he said.

I wondered if he had learned this statement from a Spanish-English phrase book under “Dating.”

For single members of the Unification Church, the topic of sex was taboo, except to admit sins or recognize the sins of others. Abstinence until marriage was required. Since most of us were no longer virgins, we had already failed and were required to start anew. Considering the misery I’d experienced because of my lover’s infidelity, abstinence appealed to my desire for peace.

Lack of sleep, intense scheduling and daily exposure to the church’s theology kept me involved. My contact with outside family and friends was almost nonexistent, and I knew nothing of news or popular culture save what was selectively analyzed by my Central Figure, or advisor, according to the church’s theology. Within three months, the thought of moving away from the church center terrified me. I shared a room with six women, woke at five a.m. for a prayer meeting, spent the day raising money or encouraging others to study the Divine Principle, then returned to sleep around ten p.m., shortly after the evening meeting. When members’ attention slackened, extra requirements were enforced, such as fasting for days or praying for hours.

For years, I never looked at a man with desire, never touched myself. To resist the occasional attractions I felt to brothers, or fantasies I had about my ex-lover, I took daily cold showers, throwing 120 buckets of icy water over my body with the intention of subjugating my subconscious mind. This took considerable time, and was done in a symmetrical pattern of ten buckets over one shoulder, ten over the other. The frigid water slapping my skin felt like a whip across my back, so cold that it burned.

   For four days, Gabriel and I stayed at the North American camp in Seoul’s Olympic Stadium. The complex was huge, housing church members from almost 200 different countries in different buildings. Our building was a flat gray rectangle. One hundred women slept next to each other in sleeping bags on the floor of one large concrete room, our possessions crammed into small plastic bags. Although our group lived in North America, most of the women were Japanese. There were less than twenty sisters originally from Europe and America. Church leaders claimed this was because Western women were self-centered, unable to subjugate to masculine will.

In the sisters’ camp, the variety of couples was the main topic of conversation. Within the church, there was an unspoken hierarchy: Asian spouses were considered most favorable, then Caucasian, then black and Hispanic. A blonde American sister who shared my room bemoaned that she was given a Dominican husband rather than a Korean. She and I wondered whether our extreme sinfulness had placed us with our non-Asian spouses. We decided it was, instead, our dedication and ability to endure difficulties. 

Gabriel waited outside our building at 6:30 every evening, his hair freshly gelled back, his shirt tucked into belted black pants. Side by side, we would walk to the meal room. I listened to Gabriel’s plans to help his hometown, and spoke little. Occasionally, I noticed him staring at my breasts and felt liberated that I could allow this without shame, since he was my betrothed.

▲ The 1992 mass marriage – publicity and profit for Sun Myung Moon.

In our week-long stay in Korea, Gabriel and I participated in three ceremonies. In the Holy Wine Ceremony, we wore white, prayed and drank a thimbleful of grape juice from a white plastic tumbler. This symbolized new blood, heralding our entry into the True Lineage. The Blessing Ceremony joined us in matrimony, as 60,000 individuals arranged geometrically in black-suited and white-gowned rows yelled “Yeh!” Our pledge, recited in Korean, expressed our resolve to sacrifice our physical and personal desires for the sake of the greater good. I had seen photographs of these ceremonies and thought they seemed like grand, empty gestures. Being a part of the event, even knowing its spiritual significance, I felt detached, like a fragment in an abstract work of art.

Finally, in the Indemnity Ceremony, each couple bestowed a symbolic beating to their partner. After listening to a speech detailing how we were to forget our past history with, and resentment toward, the opposite sex, we lined up two by two with several hundred members of the North American camp, in one of the concrete meeting rooms. We dressed casually in jeans and T-shirts. A few members arrived wearing short shorts and leather pants.

“The more you love your partner, the harder you will hit,” our Central Figure said. “Just imagine your spouse is a big baby.”

A three-hundred-pound brother beside us turned to his petite Japanese wife. “A VERY big baby!” he laughed.

▲ The Indemnity Stick Ceremony – a few members were hospitalized with injuries (several in Japan).

When we reached the front, a Korean brother handed Gabriel a wooden baseball bat, watched while he whacked me three times on the backside, then handed the bat to me. We bent over to receive our blows, and were advised to hit our partner only on the buttocks and upper thighs. After this, my only physical contact with a man for over two years, I lay on my stomach on my sleeping bag, concentrating on the tingling sensation where wood had met flesh.

   Upon returning from Korea, we were moved to different centers to continue fundraising and witnessing until we completed three years of separation from our spouse or reached the age of thirty. For the next two years, until our Three Day Ceremony, Gabriel and I were forbidden to have any physical contact. I lived in the Brooklyn church center. Gabriel lived sometimes in the Bronx center, sometimes with his family members, who had moved to Manhattan to raise money for their family back home. He studied accounting. We saw each other occasionally at religious events. I found myself daydreaming about him sometimes; I believed that fantasizing was not quite as sinful since we were married. In my imagination, our eventual union would be explosive.

Toward the end of our separation period, I moved to a church-owned hotel to work at their video post-production facility. At around the same time, Gabriel moved to work and live in the same hotel. For the first time in four years, I slept alone. In my twelve-feet square box of a room, its window facing dozens of similar rooms, I began to question if unity of purpose existed within this organization. Before, my every moment had been monitored; now, I could be gone for days before anyone would notice.

Once, I accompanied Gabriel on a visit to his family in Ecuador, failing to anticipate the difficulty of maintaining chastity away from the church. 

“If you don’t let me kiss you, I will break this blessing,” Gabriel challenged me on a street corner in Quito. Pressing me against a faux Spanish wall in eighty-degree twilight, he pushed his tongue in my mouth, grabbed my breasts in his fists.

Shortly after the kissing incident, Gabriel lay on top of me, fully clothed. The sensation of his erection pressing between my legs was so long-forgotten and exciting that I came within moments, a short, tingling burst through my stomach. I told no one. The premature kissing and closeness would have necessitated a Repentance Ceremony, and a longer separation. When I made a partial confession to my Central Figure, he let me off with a prayer.

The love of my life, whom I left to join the church, was a seductively androgynous filmmaker. With his camera, he could enhance the beauty of a homeless person or a perfect white daisy. He could laugh hysterically at some stupid joke I made, or threaten to rip out my guts if he suspected (needlessly) that I fancied someone else.

Gabriel was a steady, methodical man who rarely laughed. He drove me frantic with the slow way he set up a computer or checked his accounts. I admired his ambition and felt secure that he would never be unfaithful — his parents were nearing their sixtieth anniversary. In my mind, I built him into an icon of virtue. Secretly, I worried that I might never love freely again.

I plunged into our marriage, dutiful, determined to succeed, convinced that I was soiled goods and fortunate to be with someone so stable and faithful. Still, I was unsure of how to approach intimacy.

It was essential that I banish all memories of past experience. I could not be overenthusiastic, because our first days together would be ceremonial. So, with my mind twisting with doubt, desire and fear, we began our married life.

Two years after our wedding, I gathered our checklist of items for the Three Day Ceremony, the consummation of our marriage: 1) Two Holy Handkerchiefs. These were to wash our bodies prior to intimacy, then to collect the fluids produced by our final union in the ceremony; they were to be kept “eternally.” 2) Holy Salt. This was sprinkled over everything used for the ceremony, to sanctify the proceedings. 3) Two Holy Gowns. These ankle-length white satin gowns were to be worn before and after each act of love during the Three Day Ceremony. 4) Two Basins. These were to fill with Holy Water in which to soak the Holy Handkerchiefs before use. 5) A picture of True Parents. Since the fall of Adam and Eve occurred out of the sight of God, this picture of Rev. and Mrs. Moon stood in for God’s eyes. 6) Two cushions to designate the places of True Parents. 7) A Shim Jung (True Heart) candle.

The first night of the ceremony, I arrived at our room in the church-owned hotel at nine. It was on the nineteenth floor, with windows facing the Empire State Building on the east and the Chrysler Building to the south. Gabriel returned from college at ten, pulled out a book on accounting and a folder, and sat at the desk to write.

“What time should we start?” I asked.

He didn’t look up. “I have to finish my homework. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

Still wearing my black skirt and white shirt, I lay on the tightly made bed and closed my eyes. No thoughts came, just the distant roar of traffic on Thirty-Fourth Street, the smell of sterile linen. When he finally said my name, I was startled.

“I’ve finished,” he said. “Shall we do it now?”

I pulled the pamphlet of instructions out of my bag. We showered separately, never having seen each other naked. After he emerged, I took my turn in the steamy bathroom, then put on my new underwear. Our undergarments had to be new for each day of the ceremony; black satin felt luxurious after the baggy cotton underpants I’d been slouching around in for years. I dressed in my ivory wedding gown, and over that my white holy robe. The sash of my robe was decorated with pink beads, Gabriel’s trim was green.  

“What’s next?” He sat impatiently on the side of the bed. “I have to get up early for class.”

“We’re supposed to pray.” I placed the red-and-green embroidered cushions in front of the prayer table I had set up. A picture of Rev. and Mrs. Moon glared out humorlessly, next to the white, vanilla-scented holy candle.

We bowed to the ground in front of the picture, and prayed for four minutes.

“All right, let’s do it now.” Gabriel threw off his holy robe and lay on the bed in his underpants. His body looked small and dark on the king-size bed. I removed my clothing, then his underpants.

In the first part of the ceremony, the woman had to be on top, symbolizing the restoration of Eve’s act of love with Lucifer. After two minutes of foreplay, I guided him inside me. Instantly, I felt the emotional disconnect. It was the first time I had felt a man inside me for four years, and it felt good, but there was no holy passion, no divine ecstasy. I moved on top of him, concentrated on bringing him to an orgasm, then removed myself and lay next to him.

Our ritualistic act of love was over in ten minutes. We wiped the fluids onto our Holy Handkerchiefs.

The official handbook said, “Go to sleep in peace. Sleep in pajamas and nightgown. Do not have a physical relationship outside of the content of the ceremony.” We lay on our backs next to each other, not touching, nor speaking. 

The next evening we repeated the same ritual, this time symbolizing the restoration of Eve’s fall with Adam. We hardly spoke; there was nothing to say. When Gabriel withdrew, still erect, I was confused. According to the pamphlet, penetration should happen only once on each day. Seeing Gabriel’s distress, I decided it would be acceptable to bring him to an orgasm with my mouth. His satisfaction relieved me, but I felt no emotional closeness.

The next day, our final ritualistic act of love was completed in less than ten minutes. We wiped the resulting fluids onto our Holy Handkerchiefs, which I had embroidered with a red X for him, and a red Y for me. Observing the clear, slippery fluid on the handkerchief, I held it to my nose, thought of a baby’s head on a sunny, salty beach. Not allowing our skin to touch, we lay beside each other on cold, white hotel sheets.

“So we can’t do it again for twenty-four hours?” Gabriel asked, matter-of-factly.

“I guess not.” I lay there dry, untouched. I was flooded with desire that had no possibility of fulfillment. Would Gabriel and I ever laugh together? Would we ravish each other in an elevator, or in a parking lot? Would we even hold hands and kiss on the street? I wanted to feel wholehearted attraction to, and passion for, my partner. This man knew nothing about me, nor did he care to find out. 

After the twenty-four-hour waiting period, Gabriel and I took every possible opportunity to get close to each other. Our conversations were nonexistent, yet we attempted to sate our physical loneliness in each other. We met during our lunch break, had sex propped on a bathroom sink, in bed, on the floor, sometimes several times a day. For him, sex seemed mainly a release of tension; for me, it was a welcome distraction from the tedium of work.

Six weeks after we first slept together, I felt the trembling super-reality and nausea that told me I was pregnant. Nine months later, I gave birth to a daughter. She emerged red-skinned, black-haired, screaming. I held her to me like an extension of my body for the next nine months. Soon I was pregnant again, this time with a son: soft-eyed, unblinking, trying to crawl as soon as he drew breath.

Two miscarriages later, sex with Gabriel — at first a hopeful distraction — became a fearful thing. Contraception was forbidden, but I couldn’t bring more children into the lonely relationship we had built. For six years, we moved from one apartment to another in the hotel. When we moved away from the built-in religious community and into a Manhattan apartment, the reality of our separateness became stark. When our daughter was six and our son four, Gabriel stated the truth: “You don’t love me.”

He left. I resigned myself to the life of a celibate, single mother. I stopped attending church. I freelanced for various TV shows in New York, gradually allowing myself more freedom to be irreverent, laugh, have my own opinions. I visited my brother, who some years ago was well enough to teach computer programming; today he sits in a darkened room, wearing sunglasses, drawing detailed diagrams which only he understands. For two years after the breakup of my marriage, I feared intimate relationships, still believing sex outside marriage to be sinful.

But I couldn’t help but notice the flirtations people dabbled in daily at work. I began to feel a desire to rebel against my failed attempt at purity. At a bar after work, I had one drink, kissed a coworker and realized I still had desire. From then on, I decided anything was acceptable, as long as it felt right at the time. Fuck you, God, I wanted to say. I promised my life to you, and you didn’t keep your part of the bargain. You didn’t give me love, you didn’t change the world, you didn’t even save my brother.

The random post-work kiss initiated a frenzy of meeting men on the internet, through speed-dating and in any other way possible. Frustrated by the lack of intimacy, I decided to turn it into a project: I would date fifty men and write about the results. Date number three became a painful infatuation. After three months, I decided if number three wasn’t interested, I’d get intimate with someone who was. Number twenty-five was the one, although I knew it would go no further.

The next day I abandoned my dating project, and also fell in love with a man I met on the subway. Henceforth, I happily acceded to anything he wanted, however irregular. His rough, uninhibited lovemaking unearthed the desire I buried so long ago. Day to day, I’m unsure whether he will declare me the love of his life, or say he never wants to see me again. But even the pain of the relationship is freeing — it strips away the falseness and piety I strove to affect for so long.

Last month, my ex-boyfriend whom I left to join the Unification Church, the man I hadn’t dated for fifteen years, theorized over the phone: “You’ve created a new cult centered on your lover. When will you ever learn?”

But he was wrong. This is the anti-cult. There are no rules. This is life: it grows, changes; it surprises you; it lets you down, then builds you up. As I write this, my boyfriend is breaking it off with his fiancée. I know we may not last. But is any ending really final, and does it matter? I love him; he loves me. Now, the only eternity I hope for is that which exists in the moment.

Yolande Elise Brener lived in New York with her two children. She now lives in London.

http://www.yolandebrener.com

Holy Candy: Why I Joined A Cult And Married A Stranger

Down Is The Only Way Out: An Interview With Ben Lorentzen

#Yolande Elise Brener #Sun Myung Moon #mass marriage

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3dcrystalpictures · 4 years ago

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Cool and Housewarming 3D Crystal Gifts for New Home Celebration

If I were to ever recommend a cool gift for housewarming, I would always side with 3D crystals from photos. These are available in different shapes and you can customise your favourite photo in the 3D crystal photos. I loved the crystal gift that I had bought for my friend so much that I got one for myself as well, this time in rectangle shape, and it is just as beautiful as the 3D crystal heart. Go for 3D crystal photos without hesitation, and you will not regret your decision.

So a few days back I was looking for a perfect gift for housewarming. My best friend just bought a new house and we wanted to celebrate it in a big way. I was looking for a gift that is cool enough to describe the crazy equation that we share, but is heartwarming at the same time, to warm up our hearts and her house.

After going through a variety of gifts on many online platforms as well as stores near me, I realised that nothing could convey these emotions in their entirety. I did not want to give her something just for the sake of gifting, I wanted to make it worthwhile. I looked for everything possible, starting from her favourite graphic tees to even the digital photo frames, but either the products were way too conventional, or way too average. A gift from her best friend must stand distinctly among hordes of other gifts at her place! I needed something more special than just that, and to my surprise, I came across crystal gifts at a store near me.

The crystal gifts in the store were pretty, but I found them to be rather dull. The glow that a crystal should have and the light that it should emanate seemed somewhat muted. But I had got my idea for the cool and housewarming gift that I must buy for my bestie, and set about exploring these 3D crystal photo concepts.

I looked for them at many nearby stores, but almost everywhere I found just about the same thing. Though i found the concept of 3D crystal photos appealing, a problem still remained- crystals were not prominent enough to stand out among the crowd and the photos placed inside were way too dull. Nothing in those gifts made them cool or eye-catching when placed in the middle of hundreds of objects.

My search for the perfect gift ended with an online store dedicated solely to 3D crystal photos. They customise your photos, set them in crystal and turn them into pieces of art. The images on the website looked far better than the ones I had found in stores nearby, so I took the risk and ordered one, hoping that these turn out to be as good as in the images.

When the 3D crystal photo was delivered to my place, I was taken aback! The real product is far more promising than those images online. I bought a 3D crystal heart, and it exceeded my expectations. The 3D crystal from photos is stunning in every sense. It has a very distinct shine about it. The interplay of light and shadows in this 3D crystal photo sets this apart from the crystal gifts I had seen in stores.

The 3D crystal photo reflects light in just the right angles. The photo that I had uploaded online was customised in a way to give it a real 3D effect. It does not fall flat at the sides, unlike most other 3D crystals from photos. The photo is well rounded, and truly 3D. The crystal is cut marvelously, and this adds to the beauty of the 3D crystal from photo. It shimmers and distinctly stands out when my friend placed it among the other gifts. This crystal gift turned out to be a true eye candy, and she tells me that every visitor at her place admires the 3D crystal photo.

#3d crystal pictures #3d crystal images #3d photo crystal #3d photos #3d photo #3d crystal photo #Glass photo cube #3d crystals from photos #3d glass picture #glass pictures 3d #3d glass pictures #3d photo crystals #3d crystals images #crystal pictures #crystal gifts

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memorablecrystalgiftsideas · 4 years ago

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Cool and Housewarming 3D Crystal Gifts for New Home Celebration

After going through a variety of gifts on many online platforms as well as stores near me, i realised that nothing could convey these emotions in their entirety. I did not want to give her something just for the sake of gifting, I wanted to make it worthwhile. I looked for everything possible, starting from her favourite graphic tees to even the digital photo frames, but either the products were way too conventional, or way too average. A gift from her best friend must stand distinctly among hordes of other gifts at her place! I needed something more special than just that, and to my surprise, I came across crystal gifts at a store near me.

I looked for them at many nearby stores, but almost everywhere I found just about the same thing. Though i found the concept of 3D crystal photos appealing, a problem still remained- crystals were not prominent enough to stand out among the crowd and the photos placed inside were way too dull. Nothing in those gifts made them cool or eye catching when placed in the middle of hundreds of objects.

#3d crystals from photos #3d glass picture #glass pictures 3d #3d photo crystals #3d crystals images #crystal pictures #crystal gifts #crystal photo #3d glass photo #3d crystal pictures #3d crystal images #3d photo crystal #3d photos #3d photo #3d crystal photo

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dwindledglow · 5 years ago

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001. MEET BAMBI

FULL NAME: bambi aimée hallewell. PREFERRED NAME: bambi. NICKNAME/S: bambs, bamb, bambsi and bá. DATE OF BIRTH: june 27th, 1998. GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis female & she/her. ORIENTATION: hetero. RELIGION: non-practising christian. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: engaged to léo blanchard. OCCUPATION: full time university student and barista. RESIDENCE: tribeca, new york city.

002. CHECK BAMBI’S BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: nassau, bahamas. NATIONALITY: bahamian. ETHNIC BACKGROUND: afro-bahamian. LINGUISTICS: english and bahamian-english ( a mixture of british-english, african creole and island dialect ) which are her native languages, french in a fluent level and spanish and italian both of which she only can understand. EDUCATION: she attends columbia university where she’s majoring in astrophysics. CRIMINAL RECORD: clean. BIRTH ORDER: first. FATHER: bambi has never met her father and has no information about the man or his whereabouts. she doesn't plan on ever being in touch with him. MOTHER: shakara jeanene hallwell, born on december 30th, 1978 in nassau, bahamas, currently residing in malibu, california and working as a teacher for kids with special needs. SISTER/S: alexa marie torres, née bennett, born on february 17th, 1994 in atlanta, georgia, currently residing in sagaponack, suffolk county and working as an architect. she’s bambi’s half-sister from her father’s side. BROTHER/S: beau levi hallewell, born on october 10th, 2001 in malibu, california where he still resides and studies. he’s shakara’s second born from her second relationship and bambi’s half-brother. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: léo blanchard. CHILDREN: none so far. OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: deon lewis anderson, shakara’s husband thus stepfather. xabier alfonso torres, alexa’s husband thus brother-in-law. diego rafael torres, alexa and xabier’s son, nephew. EX/ES: louis cole. PETS: shuri, a mini australian shepherd x cavalier king charles mix and hiru, a mini australian shepherd.

003. GET UP CLOSE & PERSONAL

HEIGHT: 5′6″ or 171 cm. WEIGHT: between 115 lbs or 52 kg and 125 lbs or 57 kg. BODY BUILD: she has what has been deemed as classic supermodel-like shape, otherwise known as banana or rectangle body shape. this means bambi has a rather slim figure and it’s due to it, it’s easy for her to maintain her desire weight. she has slim shoulders and hips, toned legs, bum and stomach. despite being considered petite, she has a medium bust - 32C - and she has adequate curves. EYE COLOR: a darker, cerulean shade of blue on the outside and an icy, more vibrant hue of blue on the center. EYESIGHT: she has perfect eyesight. HAIR COLOR & STYLE: she has honey blonde hair which, despite on special occasions bambi wearing it straight and sleek, on a regular basis she doesn't enjoy the sleek look. seeing as her natural hair is rather curly, she takes advantage of it and styles it in loose curls or messy waves. when she's working, studying or simply when she needs her long locks out of the way, she french braids her hair, ties it in a nice bun or wears it half up and half down DOMINANT HAND: right. NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: not necessarily a trait or exact feature but one of the most notable things appearance wise is how innocent bambi is — the expression on her face exudes a certain peace, has an angelic quality to it. more in depth physical traits and features that seem to be distinguish are her sharp and high cheekbones, her beautiful eyes, her long legs and naturally plump lips. SCARS AND MARKS: bambi is one of those people who bruise very easily so, every now and again, there are a few bruises on her legs and arms. she has no particularly prominent scar or outstanding mark. TATTOOS: none so far. PIERCINGS: she has her regular lobes pierced. VOICECLAIM: chase carter. ACCENT & INTENSITY: her primary accent is bahamian but it's starting to slowly by slowly merging with a southern california accent. in general, however, her accent isn't necessarily intense or prominent. ALLERGIES: fish and gluten - she doesn’t have celiac disease, she simply has a sensitivity/intolerance to gluten. PHOBIAS & FEARS: complete and utter darkness, big crowds of people and confined spaces such as elevators and small closets. MENTAL & PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: none so far. ALCOHOL USE: on social gatherings or when it’s a special occasion. SMOKING: no. NARCOTICS USE: no, she has never used any narcotics or heavy drugs. INDULGENT FOOD: sometimes. SPLURGE SPENDING: sometimes, but in general she’s a responsible spender. GAMBLING: no, never.

004. DIG DEEPER

CAN THEY DRIVE? yes, she can drive. CAN THEY COOK & BAKE? yes and yes. CAN THEY CHANGE A FLAT TIRE? no. CAN THEY TIE A TIE? yes. CAN THEY SWIM? yes. CAN THEY RIDE A BICYCLE? yes. CAN THEY JUMP START A CAR? no. CAN THEY BRAID HAIR? yes. CAN THEY PICK A LOCK? no. EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED? extroverted. DISORGANIZED OR ORGANIZED? organized. CLOSE OR OPEN MINDED? open minded. CALM OR ANXIOUS? calm. PATIENT OR IMPATIENT? patient. OUTSPOKEN OR RESERVED? reserved. LEADER OR FOLLOWER? in-between. OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC? optimistic. TRADITIONAL OR MODERN? modern. HARD-WORKING OR LAZY? hard-working. CULTURED OR UNCULTURED? cultured. LOYAL OR DISLOYAL? loyal. FAITHFUL OR UNFAITHFUL? faithful. NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD? early bird. HEAVY OR LIGHT SLEEPER? she’s a light sleeper. COFFEE OR TEA? tea. DAY OR NIGHT? day. TAKING BATHS OR SHOWERS? baths. COCA COLA OR PEPSI? neither. CATS OR DOGS? both. NETFLIX OR CINEMA? cinema. SHOWS OR MOVIES? movies. LAPTOP OR GAMING CONSOLE? laptop. HEALTHY OR JUNK FOOD? healthy food. ICE CREAM OR FROZEN YOGURT? ice cream. PIZZA OR HAMBURGER? pizza. LOLLIPOPS OR GUMMY WORMS? lollipops. BEACH OR POOL? beach. SNOWBALLS FIGHTING OR ICESKATING? iceskating. LITERATURE OR SCIENCE? science. HISTORY OR ART? art. CHOCOLATE BARS OR COTTON CANDY? cotton candy. XBOX OR PLAYSTATION? playstation. FACE-TO-FACE OR PHONE INTERACTIONS? face-to-face interactions. DRAMA OR SCI-FI? sci-fi. HORROR OR COMEDY? comedy.

005. BAMBI’S FAVORITES

FAVORITE ACTIVITY: stargazing. FAVORITE ANIMAL: bunny. FAVORITE BOOK: the princess saves herself in this one by amanda lovelace. FAVORITE COLOR/S: peach, coral and soft pink. FAVORITE CUISINE: italian. FAVORITE DISH/ES: peach melba, peach pie, strawberry pavlova, ravioli, calzone and tortellini. FAVORITE DRINK/S: pink velvet hot chocolate, peach tea and strawberry limeade. FAVORITE FLOWER/S: sunflowers, yellow elder and hibiscus. FAVORITE GEM: rose quartz. FAVORITE MOVIE: gentlemen prefer blondes by howard hawks. FAVORITE SONG: all we do by oh wonder. FAVORITE SCENT/S: jasmine, strawberry, peaches and coconut. FAVORITE SHOW/S: this is us, gilmore girls and f.r.i.e.n.d.s. FAVORITE SPORT/S & TEAM THEY SUPPORT: basketball, she supports golden state warriors, soccer, she supports barcelona fc, volleyball, dance and gymnastics. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR: summer. VACATION DESTINATION: north island, new zealand.

#── ✰. ┊ bambi : — HEADCANON. ❜

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zuzia-suchorska · 5 years ago

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Thea Ballard interviews Andrea Zittel

BlouinArtinfo. Newsmaker: Andrea Zittel BY THEA BALLARD, MODERN PAINTERS | JANUARY 06, 2016

Interview excerpt:

‘Since the early 1990s, Andrea Zittel has merged an insistent sense of functionality with a flair for the imaginary: the chicken-and quail-breeding units, minimalist uniforms intended to be worn for six months straight, compact living units, and floor-bound “furniture” comprising different-size swaths of carpet that characterized her early career conjured an elsewhere through their odd—but always intentional—reorganization of day-to-day norms. Following a relocation from New York to California’s Mojave Desert in 2000, she opened A-Z West in Joshua Tree, a studio compound where visitors can stay in encampments of Zittel’s own creation and otherwise engage with the artist’s designs. Recent works move between abstraction and utility, adopting, too, a dusty desert palette; an exhibition of new works at Sprüth Magers in Berlin is on view until January 18, and another solo opens in September at Andrea Rosen Gallery in New York. Modern Painters senior editor Thea Ballard spoke to Zittel about living outside the art world and negotiating function within a gallery space.

Thea Ballard: What are you working on for your two latest shows?

Andrea Zittel: I’ve been making works based on the simple format of a plane or a panel. These planar elements actually go all the way back to some of my early pieces from the ’90s, with projects like the A-Z Cover (a blanket that can have any function) and A-Z Personal Panels (garments made entirely out of rectangles). The idea of a plane or a panel bridges so many different classifications and ways of perceiving things—both in terms of function and social roles. It’s also interesting that on some base level, anything that is flat and has straight edges is man-made. So the rectangular form speaks to a certain kind of human production; it allows you to take on the entire built world through a single elemental shape.

TB: Tell me about some of the applications you see for the panel. AZ: An example that’s in front of me right now is a sheet of plywood. A table is also an example of a planar element that has been given a function, or a bench or a sheet of printer paper. One of the things I’ve been interested in is how these panels can also represent different realities. A game board is an example of that—most game boards are flat and rectangular and roughly the same size. But the rules are totally different, depending on the particular game’s “reality field.”

TB: Do you find that there’s an architectural element to how you’re using it? AZ: It has allowed me to go back to working on a more architectural scale, which has been one of my core interests since the early ’90s. I’m working on plans for a new large-scale sculpture out here in the desert. The work will eventually consist of concrete wall sections scattered over about 25 acres of A-Z West. The part of the desert where I live is a weird place, and everything is in a state of transition right now. Parts of it are completely wild and natural, but there are also a lot of houses and developments moving in. I’m interested in making structures that, when you’re inside them, shift or alter your perception of the surrounding landscape. TB: What materials are you using? AZ: For the outdoor architectural works, I use materials that will hold up, such as steel, concrete, and wood. I’m also working on pieces for interior domestic spaces that are made from textiles. As panels, these handwoven pieces are inherently two-dimensional, but if you fold or drape or use them in any way, they transcend two dimensions to become three-dimensional.

TB: Tell me about living in Joshua Tree. AZ: It’s such an interesting and complicated place. I originally moved here because I wanted to be in a community that was, for the most part, separate from the art world. My mother’s side of the family is from the desert, so I’m also sort of hard-wired for this environment. I’ve heard people talk about the desert using these romanticized terms, like landscape, isolation, or nature. But it’s also a very politicized landscape. Right now there is a massive rush to use our area for large solar and wind farm developments. I can see the largest Marine base in the country from my studio—when they run their artillery target practice it shakes the entire house, sometimes for days on end. And then on the other side of A-Z West is an incredibly beautiful national park.

TB: Have you seen significant changes to the landscape you’re living in? AZ: It has changed a lot in the time that I’ve been living here. I find myself getting very emotional, wanting to fight for a certain way that I believe people should live and respect land, but at the same time, in order not to go completely crazy, you have to learn to accept the inevitability of change. I’m at a point in my life where I’m trying to wrap my head around the idea of change and be OK with it, so it’s feeling like a very existential moment.

TB: How is that sense of change emerging specifically in your art practice? AZ: There’s part of me that believes there’s a right way to do everything, a right way to live. And then, following this impulse, my next realization is that each person’s right way is different. These are ideas that I try to address in my works as well. My early work in the 1990s really confused people, because I would embody a position completely, and I would treat these positions as moral truths. For instance, I believe that you need to have only one garment per season, and you don’t need any dishes other than bowls, and a 30-inch-wide bed is the perfect width—anything more just takes up room and is unnecessary. People would get upset because they couldn’t tell if I was being critical or not. But I was fascinated by ideology and wanted to explore how it felt to be unquestioningly immersed in a position. At this point in my life, though, it’s impossible for me to believe in anything so fully anymore. My work has gotten a lot more philosophical as a result: Instead of making idealized products to live with, I’m making more abstract and open-ended living environments, though these are still things people can use in day-to-day living.

TB: How does an object express this philosophical quality? AZ: Lately I’ve been thinking about the notion of living in abstraction. An example of this would be a piece of furniture to which you can’t assign any single role. Essentially, we live on all these different horizontal surfaces (chairs, tables, beds, counters, desks), and the materials from which they’re made—or things like height or other subtle material clues—generally indicate their function. A philosophical object disorients you, but in a subtle way. I’m not interested in deconstructing function so much as disrupting some of the quick assumptions that we make when we assign roles to things that we think we may already know well.

TB: How do you feel your objects operate in a gallery space? AZ: Oh, man. The gallery has been one of the most challenging spaces for my work. I’m so much more interested in making things that function in daily life or in the larger world. I’m not opposed to the gallery as a site of exchange or commerce, since this is how all products enter the world. And I support my larger endeavor and noncommercial projects by selling works through galleries. But I have struggled with the context of the gallery for years. A lot of my earlier works, such as the Living Units, really felt like caricatures of themselves when I saw them in gallery spaces. This is a big part of the reason that I wanted to make spaces like A-Z West in the California desert, or A-Z East in Brooklyn.

TB: Have you been wrestling with that context recently as you prepare for these two shows? AZ: This morning I oriented a new group of residents who will be staying in our Wagon Station Encampment here at A-Z West for the next several weeks. After we finished talking about the structure of the camp, we spent an hour shoveling and moving dirt (our morning “power hour” is one of the criteria for being allowed to stay here). Half of my practice takes place totally outside the market and gallery system, and involves active, lived experiences. The other part of my practice is becoming increasingly object oriented and contemplative. I wonder if I should have a problem with this split, if I should attempt to make these two parts align. But I feel that the duality is working for me right now—it allows two opposites to create a larger whole in which each side accomplishes something that the other can’t.

TB: The work that can live in a gallery, that’s a form of multifunctionality, too. AZ: Yes, though it’s funny that the works that are clearly functional and meant to be lived with actually feel the most commercial in a gallery, because there, you’re made aware of the fact that you can’t actually use them unless you buy them. But the works that are maybe a little more theoretical or cerebral, they work for everyone—you don’t have to own them to get something from them.

TB: Do you think your project and your living situation are part of your attempt to create a different economy? AZ: I’ve thought about different economies a lot over the years, and running A-Z West takes this thinking to a whole new level, because it’s expensive to maintain and to make available to people. Right now the project is funded entirely by my commercial practice, and I’m so lucky I can do that, but I worry about what will happen if I’m not here someday. It needs to become financially self-sustaining. Figuring this out will allow me to focus on projects that aren’t always linked to a need to generate income. I think that right now, finding other economic models is probably more important than finding other formal models. That will open things up for artists more than anything.’

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shayanyaan · 6 years ago

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Two Eleven Super

“London is very human-scale,” I am quick to pitch for one of my favorite cities in the world.

Her eyes widen and her face lights up. She nods her head vigorously and points her finger at me, in complete agreement. This is the moment in a conversation when one person articulates perfectly what the other person was thinking but couldn’t quite put into words. B and I have been explaining to each other how both of us are more comfortable living in cities where we can walk or take public transport.

“Oh gosh London, yes! Seeing a London trip on my schedule always fills me with immense warmth. Imagine being able to walk around a city slowly absorbing all that it has to offer, the sights, the sounds, the traditions.”

They say never meet your celebrity heroes because you’ll inevitably find something disappointing. I think the same applies to some of the great cities of the world. But both of us conclude hands down that London does not fall in this category.

“Actually London is not even a celebrity. London is a reliable old friend. A friend that has not lost their sense of culture and tradition. The monuments, the churches ...”

“.....and the bridges across the Thames - each one steeped in history.” We are finishing each other's sentences now. “The railway stations. The tube - a subterranean metropolis beneath a metropolis. The Mind the Gap jokes.”

“And what about the black cabs and then … and then the red double decker buses. Oh the red buses - what an icon! They say tourists take the tube but real Londoners take the bus.”

“Aha! You’re probably right. Flocks of pigeons on Trafalgar square, the shops on Oxford Street.”

“And you can’t forget the ever present murky skies, steady rain, rippled puddles, umbrella bearing pedestrians.”

“Of course you just had to mention the Great British weather!” A disapproving look is thrown. The entire body of humor surrounding the British weather is a road we agree not to go down.

---

I continue to quiz B on some of the other cities that she thought would fit the human-scale bill. New York inevitably comes up as a place she has not only travelled to but lived in. I am glad she brought up New York. Now New York is not an old friend. New York is a person you know you shouldn’t fall for, but you do anyway. There is something about the pace and the madness that sets New York apart from the rest of the US. Something about the people, coming from all corners of the world. To make a living, or even half a living. American dream and all that.

In New York you are acutely aware of the class divide that exists in society. New York is dirty. The subway is full of creaking old trains. New York has JFK and LaGuardia both of which are dismal at best and soul destroying at worst. Oh and Penn Station. Never has there been a more classic case of the mighty having fallen. A complete and utter hell hole out of some post apocalyptic world.

But somehow it all works. Barely. And that is where New York absolutely has you. As you walk around the city, you peel back the layers and beneath all the flaws and scars, you will find a genuinely captivating person. A person that knows how to push your buttons and make you forget the pandemonium, if only for a split second. Through the dollar pizzas on the street corners. Through the sheer magic of Central Park and the museums. Through the Manhattan skyline; hands down the best skyline in the world. Standing next to the Hudson, under the Brooklyn Bridge, with Lady Liberty keeping a quiet watch from a distance, you will be powerless as New York sucks you in. One glittering high rise at a time. Dreamy eyed, you cannot help but stare in wonderment. Hundreds of floors, thousands of windows. What goes on inside? And the lights! Yes so many lights. What could be a better tribute to Tesla, Faraday and the like?

“In general, the east coast of the United States is on a much more human-scale. Relatively small states with trains taking you across borders within a couple of hours at the most.”

“Going west of maybe Illinois, they started drawing great big rectangles for states.”

“And then there’s Texas. Vast open skies in an almost revolting shade of blue. Just as vast are the expanses of highway, further than the eye could see, or care to see. Wide, long and monotonous. Not a single human-scale building in sight”

“And who the hell builds highways passing through the center of a city!? Makes going to get some milk feel like a great expedition to the other side of the world.”

More chuckles.

Then a brief silence, during which I am suddenly reminded of where I am - in a lounge on the upper deck of an A380. A massive ship hurtling through the ether, pushing the speed of sound. A big TV screen near where I am standing silently glares back at me indicating that -50 degrees is but a mere 10 meters from where I am standing. Yet here we are, B and I, chatting like two friends catching up over coffee.

But of course, we are not friends. Not even acquaintances. She is on the Emirates cabin crew. And I am just a passenger.

---

Back at my seat, halfway through an episode of Chernobyl, I pause to stare out of the window. Beyond the wing, which seems to stretch out to eternity, a smudge of orange is forcing its way through the royal blue of the sky. I can hear the muffled yet reassuring boom from the four Rolls Royce engines. It is then that I realize that there is nothing about the A380 that is human-scale. There is nothing about the skies which she inhabits that is human-scale. I've travelled on the beloved Super dozens of times. Yet I continue to be amazed at the size and scale with which she operates. Devouring continents and swallowing oceans. Bringing the other side of the world just a little closer to home.

A friend of mine often describes journeys on the A380 as the closest we can get to the long sea voyages on gigantic ocean liners in the 1930s. And he is right. Two decks with so much space to stretch out. Bars, lounges, showers - no expense spared in ensuring luxury. Imagine peering out of the window from your first class cabin on the Queen Mary and seeing nothing but vast open sea. Right now I am doing exactly the same. Only from 36000 feet above the Earth, and all I can see is the vast open sky. Far below, Moscow and St Petersburg slip behind us. Scandinavia and the Atlantic Ocean lie ahead. As we burn more fuel, over North America, we will eventually settle in the exclusive airspace of flight level 410.

The Boeing 747 is a work of art. Sheer poetry. The Airbus A380 however, is a lesson in outsmarting the laws of Physics. It is an absolute whale of a plane that looks like it should never leave the surface of the Earth in the first place. But somehow it does, through the most languid and sluggish of take offs. Once up at cruising altitude though, it is steady ship all the way to your destination. The ability to punch through the sky without even the faintest of trembles is simply unmatched. I continue to stare wistfully out of the window, thinking about how much I’ll miss the A380 when she’s gone. She’s right up there with the Concorde in that nothing like this will ever be built in my lifetime.

---

Resting my head on one of the fluffiest pillows ever to have taken flight, I gaze at the roof of the cabin - tiny twinkling stars gently coaxing me to drift off into a deep sleep. And frankly, it is not hard to. The bed is completely flat and the mattress is more comfortable than the one I have at home. The blanket is ever so soft. The fake gold and wood around the windows is not something I’d furnish my home with, yet up here in the sky, it somehow adds to the coziness. From my own little cocoon, I can see neither the aisle nor other TV screens. Not a single window shade in the cabin is raised. I don’t remember the last time I fell asleep on a plane without an eye mask. All I can hear are the engines whirling away, and the hushed sound of the air beating against the fuselage - no more than a relaxing white noise.

In the moments between lying down and falling asleep, I am thinking about the countless journeys I’ve made with Emirates over the last two decades. Leaving home as often as I’ve had to, I’ve come to really treasure the sense of familiarity that an Emirates flight brings to me. I’ve never stopped to think about it before but there is a certain warmth and tenderness you feel when you have an old faithful travel companion to share your journeys with. And Emirates has been that companion for me, helping me wipe away the homesickness. Slowly at first, then all at once. The boarding music that says “Hello Tomorrow”. The inflight announcements that say “Tayaran Al Emarat”. The reassuring voice of Sir Tim Clark answering questions on the default podcast channel. The wavy curves on the cabin wallpaper. The cabin crew with their brown blazers and their red hats. When choosing an airline to fly, it is hard to look past this comfort of familiarity resulting from a bond first formed unwittingly, many years ago. And strengthened over numerous journeys from one side of the planet to the other, including this one. Before I can process any more thoughts, I slip into a happy and peaceful sleep. We are probably somewhere over the North Atlantic. But in this moment, it hardly matters.

---

Six hours have passed. B is on hand to wake me for dinner. It seems the crew has saved the best meal till the very end. Three courses this evening, starting with a chick-pea salad that doesn’t make you hate your life with its dreariness. I politely refuse the alcohol but ask for a piece of garlic bread on the side. Which is brought to me, warm, from a basket lined with cloth. The main course is served with the Jeera rice cooked in just the right amount of butter. The ratio of jeera to rice - perfect. The Rajma has the power to rival any dhaba in North India and along with it is a second curry made with melt-in-your-mouth soft paneer. Actual phulkas to go on the side, instead of pita.

And if you're going to go full North Indian with your meal, you need some achaar. Which obviously is on my tray as well. Emirates just knows how to serve Indian food. If I had any doubts about this, they are well and truly shattered when B brings the dessert. Four of the finest pieces of Rasgulla. Sometimes you have a meal so sublime that you are moved to shedding a tear or two. This AVML has been one such.

I call B over one last time to thank her for everything. She passes me a brownie, one very similar to those I’d been wolfing down earlier while talking to her in the lounge. This of course, brings the widest of smiles to my face. Not because I like brownies. But most certainly because of the fact that she had noticed. And remembered. The crew has been absolutely stellar on this flight.

---

Business class. A crew that knows how to pronounce your ridiculously long last name. A crew that has time to engage in conversations with you. Meals served on crisp white table cloths. Meals that come in courses. Flat beds to stretch your legs. Flat beds to rest your weary soul. On a grueling ultra long haul flight across 10 time zones, almost anything that seeks to make you feel more earthly is highly appreciated.

This has been Emirates Two Eleven Super - Dubai to Houston in just under seventeen hours, albeit the best seventeen hours of my life.

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catalinda04 · 6 years ago

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Carried Away Chapter 60: Mr & Mrs Cavill

Masterlist

Once everyone had eaten, and the dishes cleaned, Lucy called all of the adults to the dining room table, and distributed papers. On the paper she had broken down the day by event, and who would be needed at each event. She could see the brothers giving Henry looks about the schedule.

“Yes, boys, I know this is extra Type-A, but I didn’t want a million questions today. So everyone knows where they are expected and when. Right?” she looked around, getting nods from everyone involved. “Good. You’re dismissed.”

Henry followed Lucy as she went to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water, “you don’t think the schedules are too much, do you?” she asked him hesitantly.

Henry made a thinking face, “it’s on the border.” he confirmed.

Lucy sighed, dropping her head to his chest. “I don’t want to be a bridezilla.”

Henry raised her chin with his finger, “darling, you are not being a bridezilla. You haven’t screamed at anyone. You haven’t made any ridiculous demands on anyone. You’ve even kept your panic attacks mild. No one thinks you’re being a bridezilla. All you did this morning was distribute schedules. Even those were reasonable.”

“I was going to laminate them, but decided not to.”

Henry laughed, “that would have been a step too far.”

Lucy spent some time, as become her daily custom, snuggling with baby Sophia. The little girl had barely spent anytime when she wasn’t in someone’s arms, between her grandmother, mother, aunts, and even her uncles, who all pledged their loyalty to the little princess. When she fell asleep, Lucy laid her down in her crib, and went in search of Henry. She found him playing a racing game game with a few of his nephews.

When his race finished, she called him out, to follow her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, “What do you need, Cupcake?”

“I wanted to give you your wedding present, I thought you might like to wear it today.”

“Well, if we’re exchanging gifts, let me go get yours,” he said, kissing her temple before turning back toward the game room.

“You hid it in the game room?” Lucy asked.

“It’s the only place I knew you wouldn’t look,” he grinned at her.

Lucy made her way to their bedroom, retrieving a thick rectangle wrapped in silver paper with a cobalt blue bow. Henry joined her, carrying a flat square, wrapped in shiny blue paper.

Lucy handed her box to him. He eagerly ripped the paper, finding a grey box, with a JL logo that he recognized. His eyes met Lucy’s in shock. He gingerly opened the box to find a watch he had modeled several months before, which he had admired.

“Darling, how did you get this? This is too much. How were you able to afford it?”

“I know a guy, or rather, gal. Dany gave me the suggestion, then she negotiated the whole thing. I used the profits from selling my house,” she explained.

“Darling, it’s too expensive, I can’t accept it,” he protested, trying to hand the box back to her.

“I didn’t want to tell you this right now, but I didn’t pay full price. Like I said, Dany negotiated the whole thing. But you have to wear it to the next several public events.”

Henry pressed a kiss to her lips, “you really are too good to me.” He handed her his box.

Lucy gingerly lifted one of the flaps, not wanting to damage her manicure before the pictures that afternoon. She found a plain white cardboard box, similar to what jewelry from an art fair might come in. She lifted the top to find a set of keys attached to a square keychain sporting the picture of the two of them kissing on the London Eye. She lifted them and they jangled against each other. “You gave me keys? What do these keys go to?” She asked apprehensively.

“The Lodge,” he answered proudly.

“You gave me keys to our house for our wedding?” She asked becoming more confused by the minute.

“Yes, I did. I gave you the keys to OUR house,” he replied, stressing the word our. “The Lodge is our house now.”

“The Lodge is ours?” She asked stupidly, her brain refusing to comprehend.

“Yes. Now we have a house in Minnesota that we can visit whenever we want to.” He grinned at her.

Lucy’s gaze darted between the keys in her palm to Henry’s face. “You bought The Lodge? Henry, it’s too much!”

“Cupcake, this place cost less than my house in London, and now we have this amazing house for our use whenever we want. We’re near your parents, and it’s big enough to host my family, if we want to do that again. The sale is conditional upon you signing the paperwork, as the house will be in both of our names. If you truly don’t want us to buy it, we won’t,” he insisted.

She looked at the keys one last time, before launching herself at Henry, knocking him back onto the bed. The planted kisses all across his face. “Thank you, Darcy, it’s the perfect wedding present.

“You father’s primary concern about you marrying me was that I would be ‘taking away his little girl’ I hope this will show him that I have no intention of doing that.”

“I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too, Lucy,” he answered, pulling her close to rest on his chest.

Before Lucy knew it, it was time for her to leave to have her hair styled. She gathered everything she would need; the next time she entered this house, she would be a married woman. She smiled to herself at the thought.

She pulled Henry to her for a final kiss goodbye. “I’ll see you at the church. Photos start at 3:00, don’t be late.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it Cupcake,” Henry smiled at her retreating form.

Lucy met her mom, Sarah, Emma, Anna, and Jenn at the salon. She planned to wear the earrings and necklace Henry gave her the previous Christmas, and had decided on a simple, elegant modified French twist/braid for her hair to show them off. She laughed and reminisced, and sipped champagne with her girlfriends until it was time to go to the church for the early evening service.

Lucy had stored the dress at her parent’s house, to keep Henry from sneaking a peek before the day. She opened the garment bag, and stared at the blush sparkle. She hadn’t looked at the dress since bringing it home from New York. It was even more beautiful than she remembered.

Her mother helped her into the dress, and pinned the veil into her hair. Lucy looked at herself in the full length mirror and couldn’t contain her smile. She turned toward her bridesmaids, “what do you think?” she asked nervously.

“Lucy you look amazing. That dress is spectacular.” Emma said.

“It has pockets!” Lucy exclaimed, inspiring jealousy from all of her attendants.

“Well, if it has pockets, then you can hang on to these,” Sarah said, handing her several folded tissues.

“What makes you think I’m going to cry?” Lucy asked indignantly.

“You cried at the Hallmark commercial last week,” her mom piped in.

“The little girl was giving her grandpa the toy he’d wanted when he was her age. You’d cry too.” Lucy answered stubbornly, feeling her eyes start to well again. “Fine, I’ll take the tissues.”

When Henry and his family arrived for pictures, Maryanne slipped into the bridal suite.

“Lucy, my dear, you look lovely.” Maryanne said, embracing her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

“Thank you, Maryanne.”

“I wanted to bring you this. I am an only daughter, and my mother willed me all of her jewelry when she died. I had hoped to pass it on to my own daughter, but as you know that was not in the cards, as they say. I’ve given each of the girls something to wear for their wedding, and I was hoping you’d wear these for your special day.” She said, producing a square felt box. She handed it to Lucy, who opened it and gasped. Inside she found a pair of sapphire earrings. A teardrop shaped diamond stud connected to large dangling teardrop shaped sapphire, the color almost exactly matching the bridesmaids’ dresses. “When you told me your color scheme for the wedding, I knew these would be the perfect thing. I know you already have your jewelry picked out, so if you don’t want to wear them, I understand.”

“No, Maryanne, they’re perfect. Thank you so much.” Lucy interrupted, embracing the older woman. Lucy unfastened the opal earrings from her ears and slipped the sapphires in.

“They look beautiful on you. My mother would be so happy to see how happy you’ve made my son,” she commented, hugging Lucy again.

Lucy fanned her face, to keep the tears at bay. “Thank you, Maryanne, he’s made me very happy too.”

The photographer chose that moment to collect Lucy for her first look pictures with Henry. The men had been doing their pre-wedding preparations in a separate part of the church, and Henry was now waiting at the altar for his first look at his bride.

Lucy stood at the doors to the sanctuary, seeing Henry in his wedding suit for the first time. His back was to her, his large frame radiating with nervous energy. The photographer took her place before giving Henry the instruction to turn around.

Henry heard the words he had been none-too-patiently waiting for, and turned to the back of the church. There she was, his Lucy, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her before. His hand flew to his gaping mouth, as he laughed out his emotions. His eyes welled, obscuring his view. He had no memory of moving, but suddenly he was in the middle of the aisle, holding Lucy in his arms. Her face tipped up toward his, he pressed his lips to hers, using his kiss to tell her everything he couldn’t find the words to say.

“I take it you like the dress?” Lucy asked, as she held him at an arm’s length, taking in his wool covered form.

“Darling, I didn’t think I could love you more than I did this morning. This morning pales in comparison to how I feel right now.”

“I could say the same thing,” she smiled up at him. Lucy wasn’t sure how long she and Henry stood, staring at each other in the middle of the church.

“I hate to interrupt this moment, but we do need to keep on schedule,” the photographer interrupted apologetically. “I’m going to go get the rest of the wedding party.”

Lucy thanked the woman, and she and Henry strolled arm-in-arm to the altar. While they waited, Lucy told Henry about his mother’s earrings, causing him to tear up again.

Lucy and Henry posed alone, and with their wedding party and families for, what felt like, a marathon photo session. Lucy had requested several specific shots, her favorite being her garter picture.

Henry knelt on one knee in front of Lucy, while she had her cobalt blue heel resting on his bent knee. Her dress had been hiked up to reveal her cobalt blue garter, with a Tardis affixed to it. Henry’s head flew back as he released a loud boisterous laugh from deep within his chest.

Eventually the whole party retired to the large bridal suite to await their guests. Just before showtime, Charlie, and the rest of the brothers approached the couple. “Lucy, we just wanted to let you know, if you come to your senses while you’re up there, just give us the sign,” he said theatrically scratching his nose with his index finger, “and we’ll provide ample distraction for you to slip out.”

Lucy laughed, “thank you guys, but my gals already have it covered. There’s smoke grenades in the bouquets.” She winked at them as they all roared with laughter.

Charlie turned to Henry, “I knew there was a reason we liked this one,” he commented, slapping his brother on the shoulder.

Finally the time came for the ceremony to begin. Henry left with his brothers to take their place at the front of the sanctuary, while Lucy and her bridesmaids lined up in the back. Henry gave her one last lingering kiss before walking his mother up the aisle.

Quinn started the procession, looking adorable in her flower girl dress. Lucy and Henry had considered long and hard before choosing a ring bearer, not wanting to slight any of the nephews, on either side. Eventually settling on Kal. Henry had a special cobalt bowtie made for him, and the pillow with the rings was attached to his collar. Quinn, held on to his collar as she made her way to the front of the church.

Lucy’s bridesmaids followed Quinn, each looking stylish in their cobalt gowns, Lucy had let each woman choose a dress that was her own, but all of her ladies had chosen gowns featuring the same sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves as Lucy’s dress. They each held a small bouquet of white calla lilies, wrapped with silver and blue ribbons.

Finally it was Lucy’s time. She slid her arm through her father's as the music swelled to signal her procession. She clutched her bouquet of calla lilies, white roses, and blue orchids, wrapped with a cobalt ribbon. They paused at the door to the sanctuary, as the attendees stood to face her. Lucy took a large breath and released it before her eyes locked with Henry’s and she slowly made her way to the altar.

They had decided on a very traditional service, presided over by Pastor Meredith. Lucy had weighed her desire to write their own vows, with her self-conscious hesitation to express all of those emotions aloud to everyone in attendance. Henry suggested that they write their own vows, and read them to each other that night when they were alone. It was at that moment that Lucy was 100% certain she was making the right choice in marrying Henry.

The service flowed nicely. Kal did exactly as commanded, and sat at Charlie’s feet for the duration of the service. When the time came for Meredith to ask if anyone objects to the union, Lucy gave her best teacher stare to each of her soon-to-be brothers-in-law, none of which made a peep, her bridesmaids, on the other hand, all sounded as if they had contracted bronchitis. Lucy turned to look at them, appalled. They all responded with their best innocent expression, and as she turned back to face Henry, she caught the groomsmen giving each other fistbumps. The audience gave a great laugh of approval. She heaved an exaggerated sigh, and motioned Meredith to continue.

Lucy was thankful for the videographer, because she couldn’t remember a single thing about the wedding, except their perfect first kiss as husband and wife. When the kiss ended, they stayed close, breathing the same breath, before locking eyes, and turning toward their assembled friends and family.

They made a quick dash to the back of the church, followed by their attendants, who found Lucy wrapped around Henry. “Eeeeewwww,” Quinn commented as she made her way into the entry of the sanctuary. Henry and Lucy jumped apart like guilty teenagers.

The receiving line seemed to take forever. Lucy’s head spun as she was introduced to family members and friends she hadn’t met yet. She was thankful for the opportunity to thank Victoria in person for her part in helping Lucy procure her dress. Lucy had never enjoyed being the center of attention, but with Henry’s presence there to soak-up some of the limelight, she was the happiest woman in the world.

After what seemed to Lucy like a millennia, they all made their way to the limo Henry had arranged to take the whole wedding party to the hotel that would be hosting the reception. When they had gathered all of their things, and were making their way to the reception, Lucy turned on her friends. “How dare you?” She asked mock indignantly.

“It was their idea.” Sarah said, pointing to Henry’s brothers.

“But you went along with it!” Lucy smiled, letting her friend know she was not, in fact, angry.

“I thought it was pretty funny.” Emma chimed in.

“It was,” Lucy grudgingly admitted.

“Well, Mrs. Cavill,” Henry said handing her a flute of champagne.

“Yes, Mr. Cavill.” Lucy responded.

“I do believe it is time to get this party started,” he said, inclining his flute toward hers.

“Yes, my dear, I do believe you’re right,” she agreed, clinking her glass with his.

Lucy and Henry made their grand entrance to “Shut-up and Dance with Me.” Through the months of planning, Lucy had insisted that, since Tom would not be attending, Henry would have to dance with her whenever she asked.

They took their seats at the head table, and waited for dinner to be served. Lucy had taken control of the wedding ceremony, but Henry had done most of the planning for the reception. She didn’t even know what their first dance song would be.

“We don’t have a song.” Lucy moaned, as they sat together on the big sofa in The Lodge’s living room.

“What about the first song we danced to?” Henry suggested.

“Think of Me, isn’t a wedding song.” She insisted. “Think of me/think of me fondly / When we've said goodbye / Remember me, once in a while / Please, promise me you'll try / When you find that, once again, you long / To take your heart back and be free / If you ever find a moment / Spare a thought for me” she sang the first few lines of the song for him.

“No, I don’t suppose that is. Cupcake, why don’t you let ME worry about finding our first dance song?”

“I don’t know. What if you...No, I have to trust you, trust that you’ll make a good decision. But I have a couple of requirements.”

“Of course you do,” he grinned at her.

“I want it to be something romantic, don’t go for a joke. And it needs to be something we can dance to. Promise me you’ll give this some thought, and not wait until the last minute.”

“I promise darling. Now, what’s next on your to do list?”

Lucy perused the list seriously, before looking up at him. “It says here, make-out with your fiance,” she sighed, “I suppose if it’s on the list…” she said climbing into his lap.

“I love your lists.” He replied.

Unsurprisingly Henry chose roast as one of the main courses offered for dinner. He was a man of simple tastes and was a fan of simple food, executed well. He also chose some sort of fish, and a vegetarian option. Lucy was impressed with his attention to detail. She made a mental note to ask Dany how much help she had given him.

Toward the end of the dinner, Charlie, in his capacity as best man, stood to give his toast. “Good evening everyone, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Charlie. I’m Henry’s younger, better looking brother. When Hank first called us to say he’d met someone, an American no less, we were a bit hesitant, sorry Lucy.” He gave a short pause to see that Lucy wasn't offended.

“But he just wouldn’t shut-up about this amazing woman. How she was funny, and sweet, and adventurous, and kind and the list just kept going. My first thought was either he’s dating literal Wonder Woman, or he’s in deep,” he paused for a short laugh from the audience. “We first got to meet Lucy last Christmas. Now we Cavill brothers can be a bit overwhelming, but Lucy gave as good as she got, and we realized, Hank hadn’t been exaggerating. Lucy was all of the things he said she was. So Lucy, Wonder Woman, or not, we are all so happy to have you join the family, and remember, he’s yours now, no returns.” He handed the microphone to Sarah, and embraced first Henry then Lucy.

“What if I have a gift receipt?” She asked him.

Charlie shook his head, “nope, sorry, not even then,” he smiled.

“Damn,” was her only reply.

Sarah stood to give her toast next. “Hi everyone, I’m Sarah, I’m Lucy’s best friend. Lucy and I have known each other since college, where we were both language nerds. But in our capacity as language nerds, we learned the importance of words and communication.” She paused to lay a hand on Lucy’s shoulder, taking a moment to make eye contact with her best friend and the man she knew was perfect for her.

“Lucy, Henry, just like in the language classroom, communication is the most important thing in a marriage. I know you don’t always speak the same language, that whole biscuit/cookie debate has me shook,” she shivered dramatically at the very thought, and the guests chuckled. “but if you communicate with love, I know your marriage will last. Love is truly the universal language, and you two have been speaking it since day one. So, congratulations you two, and Henry, remember what I told you the first time we talked,” she finished with a wink in his direction.

Lucy dabbed her eyes as she hugged her friend, and the DJ announced the time had come for the first dance. Henry took Lucy’s hand and led her onto the dance floor as the first strains of music started to play. He swung her into his arms, as they started to sway and a smooth male voice began to sing.

Something in your eyes / Makes me want to lose myself / Makes me want to lose myself / In your arms / There's something in your voice / Makes my heart beat fast / Hope this feeling lasts / The rest of my life / If you knew how lonely my life has been / And how long I've been so alone / If you knew how I wanted someone to come along / And change my life the way you've done

Lucy’s eyes were locked on Henry’s as she listened to the lyrics of the song he had chosen, tears blurring her vision as the chorus swelled.

It feels like home to me / It feels like home to me / It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from / It feels like home to me / It feels like home to me/ Feels like I'm all the way back where I belong Lucy laid her head on Henry’s chest as the music continued. She listened to his steady heartbeat as his strong arms wrapped around her.

If you knew how much this moment means to me / And how long I've waited for your touch / If you knew how happy you are making me / I never thought that I'd love anyone so much

As the song faded out on a chorus, Henry smiled at his wife, he leaned close to speak softly into her ear. “Did I choose the right song?”

“I think it was the perfect choice.”

“I don’t have to ask you to come home with me this time, like the song says, you are home to me.” Henry murmured.

Lucy looked deep into his eyes, before holding his face between her hands to bring his mouth to hers. “I love you.”

“I love you too, darling,” he replied, smiling at the woman who in such a short amount of time had become his whole world.

When the time came for them to cut the cake, they posed for several pictures, before cutting into the pristine white frosting. Henry had deferred to Lucy’s superior baking knowledge, when it came to choosing the cake. The resulting stack of square cakes was plainly decorated with white icing and cobalt sugar pearls lining the bottom of each tier. A friend of Lucy’s had made the cake topper: a polymer clay Lucy and Henry standing with one arm around each other, and Kal sitting at their feet.

They cut their first slices of cake, and prepared to feed each other the first bites, as was tradition. Lucy broke off a chunk of the white cake, as Henry did the same. She pointed a finger at her husband, “I’m warning you right now, if you smash cake in my face, you’re going back to The Lodge with your parents, and Kal and I will go to the hotel suite.”

Henry leaned across the small table to kiss her lightly, “Cupcake, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned cheekily at her.

The dancing had continued for about an hour before Piers stepped up to the DJ. “Good evening everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Piers, Henry’s eldest brother. Many of you may know what is coming, but if you don’t, while my brothers prepare,” he motioned to Nik and Simon moving chairs to the middle of the dance floor, while Charlie dragged the bride and groom to them, “let me enlighten you. When I married my beautiful wife Olivia, my darling brothers serenaded us with what can only be described as the worst singing ever heard.” He paused for the laughter that rolled through the room.

“But as awful as their singing was, it started a tradition, that we Cavill brothers prepare a special song for each of our brothers’ weddings. So, I would like to apologize in advance, but we are about to sing.”

Lucy and Henry sat in the places they had been directed to, as the brothers stood on either side of them, each holding a microphone. The music started, an electronic sounding keyboard, that Lucy instantly recognized, and started laughing, even before the Cavill men’s vocals started.

Nik began the verse. “Picture yourself in a boat on a river / With tangerine trees and marmalade skies / Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly / A girl with kaleidoscope eyes”

Charlie took over for the next part, “Cellophane flowers of yellow and green / Towering over your head / Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes / And she's gone” He sang, over-emoting each line.

When the chorus came, all four brothers “sang” at the top of their lungs. “Lucy in the sky with diamonds / Lucy in the sky with diamonds / Lucy in the sky with diamonds”

Lucy swayed along with the brothers, preparing for the second verse, when the music changed, to what sounded like the starting notes of the French national anthem, confusing Lucy entirely, before the Cavill men started singing.

“Love, love, love / Love, love, love / Love, love, love”

Nik, Simon, and Charlie kept up the chorus of love, love love, as Piers began the first verse. “There's nothing you can do that can't be done / Nothing you can sing that can't be sung / Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game / It's easy”

Piers jumped back onto the chorus, as Simon finished the verse his brother started. “Nothing you can make that can't be made / No one you can save that can't be saved / Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time / It's easy”

All four brothers finished their serenade strong by belting out the chorus loudly, and only slightly off key. “All you need is love, all you need is love / All you need is love, love, love is all you need”

When they’d finished their singing, and accepted their applause, Piers returned to the microphone. “Henry, Lucy, we love you both, be good to one another.” He said, kissing his fingers in their direction.

Lucy and Henry danced the night away with their friends and family, until the DJ announced five minutes to midnight. The servers brought around flutes of champagne for everyone to toast the new year.

As the crowd counted down, Lucy wrapped her left arm around Henry’s waist, locking eyes with him. When midnight struck, they kissed a beautiful, deep, soulful kiss; a promise of the rest of the night to come.

Lucy downed her champagne in one drink, “what do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Henry grinned. They said their goodbyes, slipped out of the ballroom, and made their way to the bridal suite. When they arrived, they found a silver bucket with another bottle of champagne, a bowl of strawberries, and a pepperoni pizza. The pizza had a note attached from Sarah. “Lucy-loo, I knew you’d be hungry after the long night of partying, I know I was. Enjoy the pizza, you don’t have to try to fit into that wedding dress anymore!” Lucy laughed at her friend’s message, and picked up a slice of the hot greasy pie, suddenly feeling ravenous. Henry joined her for a slice.

After enjoying their pizza, they sat, facing each other on the bed. The vows they'd written for each other in their hands.

Lucy started, her hands shaking slightly with nerves. “Henry, I literally never thought I would find someone like you. You’ve brought so much joy to my life. You’ve shown me how to love, and what love truly means. You are one of the most generous, genuine, caring people I’ve ever know. I know that my life is better by having you in it. I am so excited to start our life together, and see where it takes us. I know that no matter what life may throw at us, I can overcome it, as long as you are by my side.” She managed to keep her tears at bay, as she poured out her heart to him, but when she met his eyes, to find them glistening, her tears fell in happy, emotional rivers down her cheeks.

Henry leaned across the space separating them to kiss her tears away. He feared the vows he’d written couldn’t compare with hers. He took one deep breath, before beginning. “Lucy, Cupcake, Darling. I struggled with putting my words on paper, to express just how I feel about you, because I don’t think the words have been invented yet to describe just how happy you have made me. Happy seems like such a shallow word for the depth of my love for you. Through my own stupidity, I know what it is to live without you in my life. That life is colder than MN in January, and completely devoid of color. You’ve given me something to strive for. I am always working to be the man you think that I am. You’ve given me love, and a home, and a place where I feel like I belong. I know that life with me will not be easy, but as long as you are with me, I can promise you, it will be worth it.” He didn’t dare look up from his paper the entire time he read the vows he’d written, fo fear he wouldn't be able to finish around the emotions threatening to overcome him. He raised his eyes to hers, “Lucy, I love you so much, and I can’t believe that I get to spend the rest of my life calling you my wife.”

Lucy hadn’t stopped crying since reading her vows. She reached into the pocket of her dress to find her last tissue. She dabbed at her eyes, willing the tears to stop. When she’d dried her face, she launched herself at Henry, who caught her around the waist and fell back against the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed.

“I love you, Mr. Cavill.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Cavill.

Chapter 59 Chapter 61

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill fan fic #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Carried Away #Kal Cavill

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fabulivonline · 2 years ago

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Which type of lift-top coffee table is the best?

Are you looking to add a lift-top coffee table to your living room? With the wide array of varieties that are available online, it can be hard to decide which type is best for you. When choosing a coffee table, many factors should be taken into consideration such as materials used and size relative to your living room space. We’ll explore all of these topics in more detail so that you can get the best possible coffee table for your home.

Various lift-top coffee table styles

From the traditional lift top to the contemporary lift top, there are many distinct styles of lift top coffee tables available today. The size, shape, and design of these tables vary. Here are some of the most common designs of lift-top coffee tables on the market right now:

Ordinary Lift-Top Coffee Tables:

These are classic, sturdy tables that feature a simple, single-hinged mechanism to lift the tabletop. They come in a variety of sizes and finishes, making them a versatile addition to any living room.

Hydraulic Lift-Top Coffee Tables:

These tables use a hydraulic system to lift the tabletop, providing a smooth, easy-to-operate lift. They are ideal for those who want a sleek and modern design that maximizes functionality.

Electric Lift-Top Coffee Tables:

These tables use an electric motor to lift and lower the tabletop, making them the most effortless option for those who have limited mobility. They come with remote control, which makes it easy to adjust the height of the table without leaving your seat.

Convertible Lift-Top Coffee Tables:

These tables can be transformed into full-size dining tables or work desks, making them a great choice for those who live in small spaces or frequently host guests.

Storage Lift-Top Coffee Tables:

These tables come with built-in storage space, providing a practical solution to keep your living room tidy and organized. They are perfect for storing books, magazines, and other items that can clutter your space.

The Classic Lift Top Coffee Table:

One of the most popular lift-top coffee table models is this one. For access to your coffee table without removing it from its base, the traditional lift-top coffee table features a glass top that lifts. This kind of table is sometimes referred to as a sideboard or cocktail table. They frequently include storage below that may be utilized for exhibition or storage purposes.

Modern Lift Top Coffee Table

Modern Lift-Top Coffee Tables:

Modern lift tops are also known as dumbwaiters because they look similar to doors on elevators that open when you push a button or pull a lever. These tables have flat tops that don't rise at all and instead sit flush against the wall when not in use.

They're usually made from glass or metal and come in various styles including square, round, and rectangle shapes depending on what design you want your end table to have.

Factors to take into account while buying a lift-top coffee table

Whether you need storage or a place to show art, the finest lift-top coffee table is the one that fits your lifestyle. Any area in your house would benefit greatly from having a lift-top coffee table.

And, if you're considering purchasing a lift-top coffee table, there are some important factors you should consider before making a final decision. Here are some of the most important considerations:

Size and shape:

The size and shape of your table will affect how much space it takes up in your dining room or living room. You want to make sure that the size of your table fits well within the space allotted for it. You should also consider how big or small an area you want to use for storage when deciding on which size of lift-top coffee table to purchase.

Material Quality:

While purchasing a lift-top coffee table, it's essential to consider the quality of the materials.

Also, choosing a table that can resist normal wear and tear means choosing one composed of durable materials like solid wood, steel, or tempered glass.

Lift Mechanism:

The lift mechanism of the table is another critical factor to consider. You want to ensure that the lift mechanism is smooth and durable and that it can easily support the weight of the table's top.

Style and Design:

The style and design of the lift-top coffee table can make a significant impact on the overall look of your room. Consider the style and design of your existing furniture and decor when choosing a table to ensure it complements your room.

Storage Space:

Some lift-top coffee tables come with additional storage space, such as drawers or shelves. Consider whether you need extra storage space and how much you need before making your purchase.

Price:

Lift-top coffee tables can vary in price depending on the materials, size, and style. It's essential to consider your budget and find a table that meets your needs while staying within your budget.

Maintenance:

Maintenance is an important factor to consider when purchasing any furniture. Consider the cleaning and maintenance requirements of the table, and ensure that they fit your lifestyle and preferences.

Advantages and disadvantages of lift-top coffee tables

Lift-top coffee tables are not only excellent for holding coffee and other beverages, but they also provide a distinctive style to your area. These may be used to show your favorite images, as well as books and games.

These are some of the advantages of utilizing a lift-top coffee table.

Lift-top coffee tables are ideal for providing more storage space in your living area. You may put magazines, remote controllers, and other objects out of sight by using the lift top to make your area clutter-free.

Versatility: The lift top feature of these coffee tables makes them versatile and multi-functional. You can use the tabletop as a workspace, dining table, or even as a place to play games with your family and friends.

Convenience: With the lift top, you can adjust the height of your coffee table to your preferred level, making it more convenient to use. You can easily move it closer to you while you're sitting on the sofa or raise it to create a comfortable workspace.

Disadvantages:

Cost: Lift-top coffee tables are generally more expensive than traditional coffee tables, mainly due to their additional features and functionality.

Weight: The lift-top mechanism adds weight to the coffee table, making it more challenging to move around your living room. It can also be difficult to lift the tabletop if it's loaded with heavy items.

Durability: The lift top mechanism requires regular maintenance to ensure its proper functioning, and over time, it may become loose or damaged, affecting the overall durability of the coffee table.

To conclude

In conclusion, choosing the best type of lift-top coffee table for your home will depend on the style and size you are looking for. Coffee tables can be found online or in many stores to fit any room decor.

Lift-top coffee tables allow you to utilize space better by providing extra storage and convenience when needed. Whether selecting a traditional wood design or modern glass model, there is an option perfect for living rooms everywhere so that you can have the most stylish furniture while also having more utility out of your pieces!

#coffee tables

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theothercourse · 7 years ago

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Tom and Kristiane - 1,7, 19, 21, 22, 27 and 35 DETAILED HEADCANON TUMBLR MEME. (Gaahh sorry if it's too much, but you know how much I love this couple, so I just want to know more about them! Lots of kisses to you, sweetie!) -Maizie <3

I’m so about this, Maizie! Thank you. I’m hoping that this will encourage my inner writer to come out and play again. She’s been missing for too long.

*wiggles fingers* Here we go! Tom and Kristiane

1. What does their bedroom look like?

This is difficult to answer because they do have different bedrooms (even in my head). They still live apart. So I’ll do my best to describe.

Kristiane’s bedroom is very small. She lives in Hell’s Kitchen in Manhattan, so her entire apartment is tiny. Her room is probably no more than 9 by 9 and a perfect box. It doesn’t suit her at all, so she did as much decorating as she could to make it look unique and not so square. She’s strewn white fairy lights haphazardly along the ceiling perimeter. Her double bed that takes up most of the real estate in the room sits directly under the single window.

She uses plush sheets and plush pillows and plush comforters, so that her bed looks like a great big marshmallow that she can fall into and disappear. But it wouldn’t be white... more soft feminine colors.

She’d also have musical poster cards on her wall, that aren’t meticulously framed or measured. She sticks them up when she’s inspired to do so, and they’re from shows that she hasn’t done, only ones that she goes to see. Les Miserables is one of her favorites that she’s never done, and Wicked and Phantom of the Opera.

She also has mementos from some of the shows that she’s done. She’s got a leatherbound stationary folder from Daddy Long Legs, a pair of pantaloons from her run as Belle in Beauty and the Beast, her bonnet from playing Martha Jefferson in 1776 and her satchel handbag from playing Squeaky Frommer in Assassins... among other knickknacks.

Her closet is also tiny, and tends to overflow, busting at the seams. She’s also not necessarily the tidiest of people. She doesn’t like things too organized, she likes the look of it lived in and cozy.

Tom on the other hand is almost the complete opposite. He likes things neat and tidy and there’s a place for everything. His bedroom is large, and more the shape of a rectangle. Hes got a king sized bed dressed in masculine tones. His entire flat was designed by a friend from university.

Tom bought his place with his Thor paycheck, and for the most part away for most of the move-in. He needed someone to do it for him, so he hired Ava to manage everything. She did if for cost as a favor and to boost her portfolio.

It’s more sparse, to calm Tom... so he doesn’t have to think about it or worry about it. It’s more of a place to go to unwind than a place to spend any kind of time. Very few pillows, crisp, clean linens, immaculately made. Long blue curtains to accentuate the tall ceilings. Symmetry rules. The bed is balanced with matching nightstands and matching lamps on either side of the bed. About the only thing in the bedroom that’s personal to Tom are the two full bookcases.

His walk-in closet is organized for his ease. Suits and jackets and all are color coordinated. His entire layout looks more like a hotel than a home, but he likes it that way so he doesn’t have to do much but maintain it.

7. Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

Neither wastes time actually. They’re both dedicated to their careers, so they don’t get a lot of time to waste. Obviously they know how to have fun and fill in the hours when they’re not in rehearsal or on stage or filming. Kristiane takes part in the sports teams for Broadway Cares Equity Fights Aids. She does bowling during the winter, and softball in the spring. She keeps active with her dance classes and voice lessons. Even if she’s doing a show, she’s auditioning or lending her voice and talents to readings of upcoming musicals. There’s always something to do in New York City, and would rather not waste time.

Tom is the same. He doesn’t waste time. He’s always reading, because there are too many books, and not enough time to read them all. He’s always looking for the next project (movie/television) to show interest in. He does fancy a go down at the pub with his mates. Drinking and games at the pub is a way to blow off steam.

Both of them know how to fill their time, rather than waste it.

19. What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

As cheesy as it may read, each other. Although they sometimes don’t get on, they are both so deeply in love with the other that it calms them. Even when they’re apart, knowing the other is out there living and breathing... that’s enough.

21. Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

This is another easy one. Talent and intelligence turns them both on. Artistry and accomplishment turns them on. Ambition and charisma. They both get excited by application and the ingenuity of progression in life and art.

Turn offs would be wasted potential, laziness, and negative energy. They don’t like pessimism or evil intentions.

Turn ons: the smell of baked goods, dessert/pudding, a beautiful melody, philanthropy, breakfast in bed, a day off together.

Turn offs: betrayal, disloyalty, spoils of wealth, garbage/sewage, the smell of petrol

22. Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

Kristiane would scribble lyrics to her favorite songs, like Don Quixote from Man of La Mancha or It’s Your Fault from Into the Woods. Or she’d dream cast herself into roles that she’d never have the opportunity to play. Matilda in Matilda because she’s too old. Eliza in Hamilton because she’s too ingenue. Elphaba in Wicked because she’s more of a Glinda.

Tom would doodle, like Loki or Thomas Sharpe. Maybe a creature that he would imagine being part of the Star Wars universe or a new generation of dinosaur in Jurassic Park.

27. What is their biggest regret?

For Tom, it’s leaving Kristiane, and breaking up with her in the way he did. In hindsight, he would’ve be selfish and kept up the long distance relationship in order to keep her in his life.

For Kristiane that’s a little more complicated because I haven’t posted that part of the story yet. But she unintentionally insulted Tom when she took a vacation to see him. That will make far more sense when I actually post it. She didn’t mean to do it, and she also didn’t realize she’d done it until much later.

35. What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

Tom enjoys table tennis, reading, and creating characters. Kristiane enjoys parties with friends, harmonizing and creating characters. Again they fill their time rather than waste their time.

Woooooo!!!! That was a lot of information! I think I ran out of steam there. LOL I hope this informs the characters a bit more than I wrote into the stories. Thanks for the questions!

#maizie #the course answered #tom and kristiane #the course of true love never did run smooth #down with love #thank you!!!!!#Anonymous

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ask-de-writer · 7 years ago

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GONE TO SEA : World of Sea : Science Fiction : Part 8

GONE TO SEA

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

WORK IN PROGRESS (Word count unknown at this time)

Writing started 2005

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

The disk sailed across to little Mala'klea who did catch it expertly. Beaming, she said, “Thanks, Mom! This one is for Molly and her team. We have more and can make them for anyone else that wants one!”

Mister Makle observed, “That is more than I have heard you say even when you were drawing up the boat plan.”

Mala'klea, cringing like she expected to be hit, looked about fearfully, and went silent. Pele crouched beside her daughter and pulled her into a hug. Mala'klea hugged back fiercely, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

Pele spared a look for the shocked Recycle and Maintenance people in the big office. Still holding her daughter, she told them, “Klea was one of the children that Mister Angerson was caught beating for refusing to pray to his God during their schooling time. Instead of teaching them math, he was trying to force the children to follow him in his suicidal mania that he calls a religion.

“He was particularly brutal to those kids that he called pagans. Since my little Klea follows our family's polytheistic beliefs, he beat her the worst of all. The station's doctors found two cracked ribs and a hairline fracture of the right radius.

“Mala'klea refused to give in to his assault but he did manage break her trust in most people.

“Mister Angerson has been formally required to surrender his teaching duties and stay away from the children. He has been forbidden to ever touch or speak to any of them. His own wife and two children moved into our apartment to get away from him. Trisha has filed with the station's Executive Committee for a divorce.”

One of the men from Molly's Maintenance crew said, “I know about the schooling problem. I was on the jury. What Angerson did sickened us all. He claimed that God Himself ordered him to discipline the children for their unbelief and that God's orders override the Colonial Charter. We all disagreed. The verdict was unanimous.”

Molly volunteered, “That idiot Marcus cornered me once and tried to convince me that we are doomed. God sent us all here to die by slow starvation for our sins. Seems that we are all to be the Sacrifice For The New Covenant to preserve all of mankind's colonies in space.

“He seems to forget that both the thymine and lysine that are our last real stumbling blocks have been spotted from orbit, even if they haven't been isolated to any particular organism yet. In the meantime, the plants and animals that we brought along are filling the gap. We will find what we need someday, probably soon.”

Pele nodded to Molly then gave her daughter another hug and asked her, “Do you have any sort of plan or working drawings for the boat that Mister Makle mentioned? What are you thinking of making it out of?”

Everyone watched silently as Mala'klea went fearfully to Mister Makle's desk and, darting glances all about, brought her mother the pages of sketches. She took one of the flying disks from Cora and wordlessly handed it to her mother as well.

Pele's eyes lit up and she sat cross-legged in front of Mala'klea and patted her lap. Looking meaningfully about at the other adults for silence, Pele said, “This is a wonderful start, Klea. Please tell me about it.”

Mala'klea began almost inaudibly, “We can use old filter disks and rectangles to make the planks. See, Mother? The big side planks are the same width all along their length. By keeping the angles of the side to bottom planks the same, it is just a long four plank dory, the same way that the old Polynesian voyaging ships were built.”

Mother gave daughter a quick hug and prodded, “How will you make the planks out of the smaller pieces, Dear?”

Mala'klea answered more confidently, “To make the flying disks we had to make a glue out of Moreson's eels. Because of the messy way that they come apart when we heat them, we call them Goo fish. We had to try several ways to get the glue right. We had some of the disks stick together by accident. That gave me the idea for laminating the parts.”

Pele nodded in happy seeming approval. “Very observant, Klea. How will you hold the planks and ribs together?”

The other children of Cora's Crowd almost bit their lips to keep quiet. Cora stopped one of Molly's crew from speaking by whispering, “We have seen this before. This is how Pele helps Mala'klea to stop being scared. Let Klea answer for now.”

The man nodded understanding and held his tongue.

Mala'klea almost eagerly told her mother, “We can get strings from the mussels that grow almost everywhere on the Station's docks. Cora figured out the glue and filter thing but it was Jason who thought of the string. It was Matty that thought of making a boat. I put their ideas together.

“We can use string that we make from the mussel threads to tie the parts together. Once we are ready, we can laminate more skin over the joints to waterproof them. We can lock the ribs into place the same way. It is only a little different from the way that you were putting together the latest big Polynesian ship that you and your friends were building back on Earth.”

Pele grinned at her daughter, and looking her in the eye, pointed out, “Those planks and parts will need to be trimmed to shape, and many holes drilled in them to tie them together. How will you manage that?”

By now, Mala'klea was answering eagerly and openly again. “Jason and I made some knives and other tools out of Strong's shark teeth! Jason brought them down here to show to Mr. Makle. We can cut and trim the glued skin with them. We made an awl that can make the holes. When you were making that big canoe, you had a bow drill thing to make the holes but I couldn't remember how to make one.”

Jason silently handed a roll-up of knives and other tools to Mala'klea who unrolled it to show her mother. Pele took the time to examine each knife and tool carefully. She thoughtfully tested edges and checked the orientation of the natural serrations in the fangs that the knife and tool edges and points were made of. One tool was made from a piece of flat bone with fairly coarse teeth carved into it for spreading and forcing glue into the skin. The tool had the sheen of a waxy coating worked into the bone. They all had handles formed of many layers of the skin and glue. Each handle was carefully formed to fit the hands of the children. Pele even examined the leather of the roll-up.

Nodding with a smile as she felt the softness of the leather, Pele asked Mala'klea, “Is this made out of some of the Strong's skin with your oil from the Goo fish worked in to soften it?”

Mala'klea smiled at her mother and said, “Yes, mother. Mikal Novotnoy thought of doing that. We all worked on different parts of it. It is stitched with the mussel string. We needed something that would keep the tools sharp and save us from getting cut on them.”

Pele gave Mala'klea another hug and stood up, holding the child's hand. She said, “This is a really well thought out project, Klea. I especially like the way that you gave credit for ideas to the others. I think that this ship will make a great project.

“It will need you children to do a lot of math to figure out the details. You will need good language skills to present what you figure out to the rest. We can use this project for a big part of you kid's schooling. It will make a perfect demonstration of the relationship between what you are taught in class and the real world. It will also be more fun than any lessons should be.”

Mr. Makle thoughtfully consulted his computer, accessing the Public Announcements. Looking up he said, “You kids don't need to worry about Mr. Angerson any more. He is forbidden to even come near to any of you, including his own family or your projects. If he tries, we can lock him up. The Executive Order implementing the jury verdict of child abuse was posted about four days ago.”

Pele looked over at Mr. Makle and asked him, “How can we keep him away from this project? It will need a lot of room to build it and, because of their time in the classrooms, the kids won't be able to work on it all of the day.”

Mr. Makle looked cheerfully at the children of Cora's Crowd and said, “Maintenance will contribute building space for it down on Maintenance Dock C. Its access ways all lock. As soon as you are ready for the actual building to begin, let me know and I will formally reserve it for you. Due to the suspicion of sabotage to the Reverse Osmosis Desalination plant, we have been given the authority to forbid access to ANY unauthorized personnel. We can arrest trespassers if necessary. C Dock is already equipped with surveillance cameras and alarms.

“We installed the locks, alarms and cameras because we are storing those new fiberglass boats that you have been making for us down there. If we do have a saboteur, those boats could become a prime target.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

#GONE TO SEA #World of Sea #Science Fiction #written by Glen TenEyck #Part 8

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