#Bronze press female adapters

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[xtruss]

Glistening green, Nicolas Reusens, Spain 🇪🇸 — Best Portrait, Gold Award! Reusens said: ‘Venturing into the tropical forest, I was excited to spot the rare Glistening-Green Tanager (Chlorochrysa Phoenicotis). After hours of waiting, I saw the vivid green bird on a perfect heart-shaped leaf. Its shimmering feathers reflected a dazzling array of colours. I captured every detail, grateful for this magical moment amid the lush jungle backdrop.’Location: Mashpi Amagusa Reserve, Ecuador 🇪🇨. Photograph: Nicolas Reusens/Bird photographer of the year 2023

Grab the Bull By the Horns, Jack Zhi, US 🇺🇸 — Bird 🦅 Behaviour, Gold Award, and Overall Winner! Zhi said: ‘During the breeding season, a Female Peregrine Falcon (Falco Peregrinus) fiercely protects her young, attacking anything that comes near the nest. For four years, I attempted to capture these rare moments of her attacking large brown pelicans (Pelecanus occidentalis) with incredible speed and agility. The high-speed chase made it challenging to capture a closeup shot with a long lens. The falcon’s precision was amazing as it struck at the pelican’s head.’ Location: Southern California, US 🇺🇸. Photograph: Jack Zhi/Bird photographer of the year 2023

Flying Sword, Rafael Armada, Spain 🇪🇸 — Birds 🦅 in Flight, Gold Award! The Sword-Billed Hummingbird (Ensifera Ensifera), common in the Andean forests, has the world’s longest bill relative to its size. The bird’s unique bill, which is adapted to feed on flowers with long petals, makes it a vital pollinator as bees and butterflies cannot reach the nectar on these plants. This image captures the bird approaching a feeder, with a natural background and lighting. Location: Bogotá, Colombia 🇨🇴. Photograph: Rafael Armada/Bird photographer of the year 2023

A Mother’s Love, Qiuqing Mu, China 🇨🇳 — Bird 🦅 Behaviour, Bronze Award! Mu said: ‘A Great Grey Owl (Strix Nebulosa) adult was hunting in a wheat field, and a juvenile flew to the edge of the field to be fed. Suddenly, the parent caught some prey. I quickly pressed the shutter and captured a heartwarming moment between the parent and the next generation.’ Location: Zhejiang, China 🇨🇳. Photograph: Qiuqing Mu/Bird photographer of the year 2023

Common Nighthawk in Flight, Richard Sanchez, Cuba 🇨🇺 — Birds 🦅 in Flight, Bronze Award! Sanchez said: ‘At 10am, a Barn Owl (Tyto Alba) appeared before us and we followed it to a crop field where it began hunting. Nearby, several cooperative common nighthawks (Chordeiles Minor) circled around our vehicle. I captured a perfect shot of them in flight, though it was partly a matter of luck.’ Location: Florida, US 🇺🇸. Photograph: Richard Sanchez

A Moment of Prayer, Arto Leppänen, Finland 🇫🇮 — Urban Birds 🦅, Gold Award! Leppänen said: ‘During winter migration, owls from northern Finland often head to the south where they can find more food due to less snow. This Great Grey Owl (Strix Nebulosa) chose a cemetery with abundant voles as its hunting ground. While hunting, the owl would often stop on tombstones or other structures to observe the area. Keeping a safe distance, I followed the owl and managed to capture a fleeting moment when it landed briefly on a beautiful angel statue.’ Location: Helsinki, Finland 🇫🇮. Photograph: Arto Leppänen/Bird photographer of the year 2023

No Way Out, Antonio Aguti, Italy 🇮🇹 — Comedy Bird 🦅 Photo, Gold Award! The Purple Heron (Ardea Purpurea) is a migratory bird that nests in the lake basins of the Italian peninsula and feeds mainly on fish, although it also preys on mice, snakes, toads and other creatures. In this shot, the heron caught a large crucian carp (Carassius carassius) and swallowed it after several attempts to turn the fish on to its side. Location: Lake Chiusi, Italy 🇮🇹. Photograph: Antonio Aguti/Bird photographer of the year 2023

Parenting Goals, Thomas Vijayan, Canada 🇨🇦 — Best Portrait, Silver Award! Vijayan said: ‘Before capturing this image, I spent two days observing these [Emperor] Penguins (Aptenodytes Forsteri), lying flat on the ice to avoid scaring them. Waiting for the chick to appear, I finally got this touching shot of parental love. I trekked eight hours a day on soft snow to reach this colony and even made friends with some penguins.’ Location: Antarctica 🇦🇶. Photograph: Thomas Vijayan/Bird photographer of the year 2023

Coming Storm, Jake Levin, US 🇺🇸 — Best Portrait, Bronze Award! Levin said: ‘The best place to see Canada 🇨🇦 Jays (Perisoreus Canadensis) for those living in Montreal is across the border in upstate New York. During my winter 2022 visit to Adirondack Park, I focused on capturing this species. This image shows a jay seemingly concerned that the snow is ramping up, and rightly so, as it made driving back home a challenge.’ Location: Adirondack Park, New York, US 🇺🇸. Photograph: Bird photographer of the year 2023

[americancowgirl19]

Yours Forever

Summary: You and Riley get to know each other on a more... personal level.

Warnings: smut, fluff

Reader: Human Female Plus Sized Cullen Reader

Pairings: Riley Biers x Female Plus Sized Reader

Word Count: 2,310

A/n: This was requested by @fyeahtaylorp -  Hi so I was the one Who requested the Riley biers plus size human Cullen imagine. I loved it like it was amazing ❤️. I was wondering if you could do a part two with more flirting and protective dominate Riley and there is smut if you do smut and the reader could be female by chance. If not that’s ok but thank you I love your writing. 😊 - I’m glad you enjoyed the first part! I’m sorry if it wouldn’t let me tag you. If anybody want me to rewrite this as a male reader, let me know! I hope you enjoy this one! I love writing for Riley.

Masterlist - Part One (So Much More) - Part Three (Our Little Family - Female Reader)

“If you’re not amazed by the stars on a clear night, we won’t work.” You tease Riley. The pair of you were laying on a blanket looking up at the stars. Well, you were star gazing while Riley seemed distracted. 

You can see him watching you in your peripheral vision. You’ve noticed that he likes to do that a lot. More often than not you find him staring at you. Sometimes he has a curious expression or that coy little smirk of his.

You turn your head to meet his look. He doesn’t seem curious nor flirtatious. He has a small content smile on his face. His eyes hold a softness that you’re not used too but slowly coming accustomed too. You’ve never had a man look at you like Riley. Hell, you’ve never been around a man like Riley. 

“Is that so?” Riley muses. You grin as his amorous smirk returns to his face. Your heart flutters when he uses his speed to move from beside you to above you. His hands rest on either side of your face, trapping you below him “And what if I said that I’ve found something far more stunning than any star in the sky to be amazed by?” He hums.

“Oh, really?” You whisper, trying not to show him how effected you are by his words. Of course, he sees right through you as your heart betrays your ‘collectiveness’. 

Riley hums again and lowers his head. You wait for his lips to meet yours but he dodges them and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Your eyes go back to the stars as you instinctively move your head to the side. Riley growls in approval at your willingness to expose your neck to him.

Your hands reach up to grip his shirt when his lips leave light sporadic kisses along your skin. You pull on him, wanting to close the little gap between you. He smirks resting between your legs. You shiver at the coolness of his body but hook your legs around his in an attempt to keep him from leaving you.

“You are more dazzling than the stars in the night and more radiant than the sun,” He whispers, lifting his head. His sparkling eyes with a mixture of red an bronze stare down at you. You found the color beautiful just like the rest of him.

Your family had made sure that he understood that if he wished to live in Forks he would have to adapt to their diet. He hated it but would endure it for you. The pair of you had been together for not even a year and Riley has yet to find a single thing he wouldn’t do for you. It excited him, this feeling. It was so much more than he ever felt toward Victoria.

“Gaze at the stars all you want, baby girl. I’d much rather look at you.” He whispers.

“For a man who is as beautiful as diamonds, I’m sure you can find something more-” You don’t get to finish. His lips press to yours. Your head spins as he kisses you deeply, pushing you further into the blanket covered grass.

“What did I tell you about talking bad about yourself?” Riley mutters against your lips. Your only answer is a release of a shaky breath. “You’re everything to me, baby girl. I don’t like it when you talk like that,”

“I’m sorry,” You whisper to him.

“I know,” Riley purrs. His arrogant grin spreads across his face. He slowly moves down your body. His nose trailing along your neck and over your bare chest to your clothed breasts. “It’s alright, baby girl, we’ll make you see how beautiful you are soon enough,” He promises, kissing your stomach.

“Riley,” You whine, wiggling under him. He inhales deeply. His eyes rolling back at your sweet scent. He could smell your arousal and it only made you more mouthwatering.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, lifting his head to look into your eyes. You stare into the eyes of the man, of the vampire you’re irrecoverably in love with and nod. He continues to stare at you as he travels back up your body. “Maybe if I love you under the stars you find so beautiful you’ll finally see that you’re worth more than anything in the world,”

“You want to... Out here?” You whisper, your eyes widening.

“There’s no one around,” He whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “It’s just us,” He mutters, nipping at your neck. “And I want you so badly,” He growls grinding his hips down into yours. Moaning, you push your hips up to his needing more friction. 

“What if someone...” Your voice fades into a whine when he suckles harshly on a spot of skin behind your ear.

“Do you think I’d ever let someone see what is mine?” He asks you. “Anyone who sees you like this will have to answer to me and I will not be merciful,” He growls. “You’re mine and I’ll be the only one to see you like this. To hear those noises you make when I pleasure you in a way only I can,” You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing as he growls the words into your ear. “Do you want me, baby girl?” You whine, gripping his shirt even tighter. “Is that a yes or no?” He smirks.

“Yes, Riley!” You snap, grabbing his head. His eyes return to yours. “I want you.” You tell him, lifting your lips up to his. “Please,” You whine. He finally allows the kiss to connect. His hand reaching for his shirt. You pull away just long enough for him to strip his shirt off. You hum, reaching out to touch his chest.

“All for you, baby” Riley winks. You blush. Your hands grab his shoulders. He lets you pull him back down to you. He kisses you slowly, his hand brushing hair strands out of your face. “I love you,” He whispers.

“I love you, too” You whisper back to him. His eyes stare at your face before traveling down. He sits up on his knees and grabs the end of your shirt. His knuckles graze along you soft warm skin as he lifts it. You sit up long enough for him to pull the shirt over your head.

You struggle against your instinct to hide from him. You’re exposed to his wondering eyes. All you want to do is roll up in the blanket under you but you don’t. You do, however, avoid looking at him. You look up at the stars and wonder how someone like him could even compare you to their beauty.

“You’re so gorgeous,” He whispers to himself but loud enough for your ears to hear. He lowers down and kisses your stomach. Your breathing escalates as he massages your sides and nips at your skin. You whine as he grows rougher.

He couldn’t get enough of you. He loved every inch of you. He loved how your skin reddened with every squeeze and bite. He loved the breathless noises you made when you became more sensitive to his touch. 

You gasp when your bra is ripped off of your body and your pants are torn down your legs. Your eyes lock with his. Your not intimidated by the blackness of his irises. You trusted him with your life and knew he wouldn’t take things too far.

“Do you understand what you do to me?” Riley wonders. He falls back on top of you, he hands stopping him from completely collapsing on you. “I wonder who between us has that vampiric allure when every single thing about you draws me in like a moth to a flame.”

“I-” Whatever words you were going to say die in your throat as he shuffles down your body. You breath hitches as he drags your panties down your body with his teeth leaving you completely exposed. A cool breeze sends goosebumps across your body. Riley growls, his eyes soaking up the sight of your painfully erect nipples.

“Absolutely perfect,” Riley growls lowering between your legs. Your legs try to close but Riley effortlessly forces them to part. He smirks, his face nearing your sweet piece of heaven.

Your jaw drops and your back arches as he licks and suckles your cut like a man dying of thirst. You writhe on the blanket. Your hips attempt to grind against his face but his hands hold you down.

His lips circle around you clit giving it special attention. You try to stay quiet but it was beginning to become impossible. Riley mercilessly eats you out, his hands bruising your hips. He doesn’t stop until your convulsing through your orgasm.

“Good girl,” He whispers, against your skin. He laps at your cunt before kissing up your body. “You taste better than blood... A man could become addicted to your delicious pussy,” He growls against your skin.

“It’s all yours... Only yours,” You breathe, recovering slowly.

“Your damn right,” He growls. Grinding his clothed cock against your sensitive clit. Your cry turns into a moan. “You belong to me. Every delicious curve, every beautiful moan, and every mouthwatering orgasm is mine.” You whimper as his hips grind even harder against yours.

“Please,” You beg. “Riley, I need you,”

“Oh, do you?” He asks, looking into your eyes. His head bumps against your lightly. He nips at your bottom lip. “I don’t believe you,”

“Please, please, please,” You scrounge. “I need it, I need you”

“And what do you need from me, my beautiful girl?” He asks, tilting his head. “A kiss? More friction? Ooorr... Something else?” He wonders. You whine, squirming when his hips still. “I’m not a mind reader, babe-”

“Your cock!” You exclaim. “I want your cock, please give it to me”

“Alright, alright, no need to panic. I’ve got what you need,” He grins. He shimmies out of his pants. You shyly look down at it. “Do you think you’re wet enough for me?” He ask, teasing your slit with the tip. “Don’t want to hurt you too badly,” He mutters, shoving two of his fingers inside of you without a warning.

“Ah, Riley,” You moan, grinding into his hand. His eyes remain glued to your face, watching as your expression shifts and twists. His thumb reaches up to brush along your clit while his fingers massage your special spot within your pussy. “Please, please, please,” You whisper like a prayer.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Riley mutters, pulling his hand. You whine. “No, not yet, baby girl.” He coats his cock with your juices before pushing his fingers into your mouth. Your eyes connect with his as you suckle on them like a lollypop. 

Your mouth opens with a gasp when he pushes inside of you. His fingers leave your mouth and wrap around your neck. Your hand grips his wrist as he squeezes your throat just enough to make breathing difficult but not impossible.

“God, I could spend every day buried deep inside of you,” He growls bottoming out inside of you. Your legs hook around him as your pussy milks his cock. “You were made just for me. Mine.” He growls in your ear. Pulling in and out of you in short thrusts.

“So good... You feel so good,” You whisper. Riley kisses your shoulder before rolling onto his back, pulling you onto his chest.

“Sit up. Nice and tall, gorgeous.” Riley whispers to you, releasing your throat. You look at him anxiously. “Go on... I want to see you, beautiful girl.” Hesitantly, you sit up and sink down onto him further. Your head rolls back as you moan deeply. “There you are,” He whispers, his hands gripping you love handles. “Look at me,” Your eyes look from the stars to him.

He lifts your hips forcing you to move up and down. After a moment, you don’t need his help and begin to move on your own. You grab his hands, your fingers intertwining with his. You use them as leverage and begin to move faster. 

You gasp, moaning as his hips thrust up to meet your pace. You become more desperate the closer your climax comes. Riley flips the two of you quickly and drills into you like a mad man. You cry out and clench around him as your release harder than before. Riley’s release follow seconds after you.

“You are beyond compare,” Riley whispers in your ear. He tenderly presses kisses along your jaw.

“I love you, Riley” You whisper, threading your fingers through his hair. He smiles against your neck.

“I love you more, baby girl” He whispers, pulling back. You wince as he pulls out of you. He uses the blanket to clean up before pulling his clothes on and helping you into yours.

“You owe me a new bra,” You say holding up your torn one. He gives you a sheepish smile and helps you stand.

“I’ll get you anything you want,” He promises, holding you against his chest. “As long as you promise to be mine forever,”

“Give me a ring, your last name and I will be,” You wink at him. Riley grins connecting his lips with yours.

“Would a ring like this do the trick?” Riley wonders, pulling out a ring from his pocket, glad it hadn’t fallen out. He gently grabs your hand and slips it onto your finger.

“It’s perfect,” You whisper to him.

“So... Is that a yes?” Riley asks, caressing your cheek while holding your hand.

“Of course, I’ll marry you,” You whispers, pressing your lips against his. He grins deepening the kiss. He picks you up and spins you around. “Looks like I’m yours forever,”

“Finally,” Riley whispers, staring into your eyes with that coy yet awestruck look on his face.

[prose-for-hire]

Tomb-mates

Pairing: Buffy Summers x fem!vamp!reader

Request: If you're accepting requests at the moment could you please write a story with a female vampire reader that goes to college and ends up being Buffy's roommate (Buffy doesn't know the readers a vampire and the reader doesn't know Buffys a slayer), at first Buffy and the reader are feuding over petty roommate drama but then their suspicion of each other grows and the drama becomes more intense, ending in romance please?

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Swearing. Fighting/ violence. A little heated kissing.

You were new. New to vampirism. New to dating women. You felt like a fish out of water. You were adapting, but slowly. You always known you liked women, but you had never gotten enough of a chance to explore that side of yourself when you were living.

You may be thinking this a story of repression, perhaps you were growing up in a time where you had to marry a man rather than initiate any relationships with women...

But you had been sired last week. 

The week before you moved to college. Luckily you were taking night classes. So, you weren’t ashamed. Or completely pious or virginal. You just hadn’t dated much, expecting everything to change once you got to college.

Now here you were. Trying to adjust to the bloodlust and the tenuous grip you had on your soul (as well as your attraction to your new roommate). You had never really met many other vampires and so you weren’t aware that you were a lot different than most. Human blood tasted horrible to you. Like rotten fruit. And it made you feel kind of sad inside.

So you ate animal. It was sweeter, not by much. But it was better than nothing. Your sire had dropped you, leaving you to it. She, the vampire you weren’t even sure the name of, went to LA because some store had a rare unicorn figurine she was dying to get her hands on. Or she ‘would totally die… again to get my hands on’ as she had so eloquently put it.

Ever since you moved in with Buffy, things were a little rocky. She could be fun to have a conversation with, she could make you laugh at times and she was honestly the most beautiful woman you had ever met. But there was something missing. Something you couldn’t figure out.

Without realising until it was too late, a gradual tension had permeated the air around you. In every conversation. Every glance when the other wasn’t looking. Every heated comment to or about the other.

The tension became more obvious a few weeks after you moved in together. You were brushing your teeth when she ran in. Teeth meaning fangs. You had changed into your vampire form knowing from experience that it wasn’t good to neglect the teeth that grew when you changed.

You panicked, your face and the reflection would tell her something you really didn’t want her to know. Your face changed back and you shouted at her to get out. You stood closer to her, blocking her vision from your lack of reflection.

She explained that she had wanted to know if you would like to hang with her and her friends. At noon. Also known as sizzle o’clock when you were a vampire.

You stared at each other. You could cut the tension with a knife. Eventually she just backed out and you closed the door behind her, breathing heavily despite the fact you didn’t need to.

You made it up to her after this, you did meet her friends at the Bronze after class one evening. Her pizza delivery guy friend kept eyeing you. You didn’t know if this was because you were under suspicion or otherwise. You didn’t go out with them all again. But you did spend a bunch of time with Buffy.

It was strange, your relationship with Buffy. You were flung together, reliant on each other in some sense. And completely infuriated by the other almost every other hour. But in that alternate hour… God, you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy just being in the same room as her.

You arrived back after your night class and dropped your bags to the floor. You didn’t notice that she had stopped still, her eyes wide until you took a second glance at her.

You then realised what she was holding, and then concealing behind her back. A heavy set mace, complete with angry looking spikes.

“What’s that? A mace? Y’know I think they meant the spray kind in the campus talk” You laughed, shaking your head.

“I-It’s for an elective!” She rushed, a panicked look before she pointed as if she had found a better excuse, “They were just handing them out!”

“…You got a free mace?” You questioned, as if it being free was the least believable part of it.

“Well, you know what they say…” You shook your head as she came up with it on the fly, “Maces prevent assault-cases”

“Sounds like it would increase assault cases, but I mean what do I know” You muttered, eyeing her a little confused. She fidgeted under your gaze. You made her a little confused, she loved women. She knew this. But if she had been honest she had never really expected to find someone like you. That she could picture pressing up against a wall and kissing so urgently it made her dizzy with want.

She would never act on it, she told herself. She was scared that you would be uncomfortable. Didn’t want to bring you into the danger that was her life.

Besides, at times you would fight. Pretty heatedly at that. She wasn’t sure if it was tension, her lying or you being hard to live with at times. Perhaps a mix of all of them.

You squinted at her for a moment but then nodded slowly, just letting this one slide. It never crossed your mind that she could be a vampire slayer. You didn’t know they existed. Which, is understandable considering you were fresh-faced and just out of the grave.

It annoyed her how perceptive you were. How interested in her life, in the hours that she kept. It bugged her that you were inquisitive. But mostly, it bugged her that she couldn’t be honest with you. That she found you so insanely attractive and she felt as if there was nothing she could do about it.

You both frustrated her and excited her. She had had more than one dream about you by this time. Luckily for her, it had been early morning and you hadn’t heard her whispering your name. Either way, at the moment all of her attention was on you. She was evening starting to annoy Willow with the amount she would talk about you.

Both of you were becoming suspicious of the other. You could sense something, neither of you entirely able to put your finger on it. Instinct told you that there was something off. Some danger or confusion that made your senses flare around each other.

One afternoon it had become too much for you. You had stepped into her side of the room and started rooting through drawers and cupboards. Just as your hand touched a heavy duffel bag (that contained weapons and thick books on vampire mythology) she stepped into the room.

She caught you. Snooping. Crap.

She pulled you back and asked what you were doing. You explained you were going to a party and thought she wouldn’t mind sharing clothes. She didn’t like this excuse.

She became mad. And weirdly defensive which made your instincts tell you that you had been right to snoop. And you told her this. Which infuriated her more.

“That’s it! My side. Your side” Buffy gestured to a line in the floor that split the two halves.

“Fine” You muttered, tension in the air rising and whipping around you.

“Fine!” She replied. You stared at each other, holding the gaze. The room started to heat up and you weren’t sure if you were imagining it or not.

Neither of you knew whether you wanted to shout or kiss each other. The attraction and frustration was growing more and more.

“You’re impossible!” You muttered grabbing your coat, leaving and slamming the door closed.

Yes, you had been caught out. Yes, you were in the wrong. But I mean you lived with her without her ever revealing anything about herself. What were you supposed to do?

Buffy, despite being angry would feel incredibly guilty if you got hurt because you left in the middle of the night. She didn’t realise but you would usually leave the house for blood and the like in the early morning just before sunrise (so you wouldn’t be disturbing her).

She had actually started to grow weirdly fond of you. She thought you were pretty, so pretty. It was hard getting used to living with you but she found herself almost enjoying the petty arguments. Some days she envisioned holding your hand, maybe asking you to go with her to the Bronze. But, not now you had been snooping.

She had followed you through the night, you went to the library to swap some books. The 24 hour superstore on the corner. You even met up with a friend. Buffy came along with you for all of this, without you realising.

You made one final stop before going back. The local demon bar. They did takeout and some days you really didn’t want to go breaking into a butchers in the middle of the night.

It was a good job too, considering there was a slayer on your tail.

She squinted, frowning slightly. What would you be doing in there? Did you know what kind of clientele actually went in there? She wasn’t sure what to do without having to explain to you the whole demon and slayer jazz. She stayed and waited and you left without an issue.

The only problem was, she couldn’t bring it up without you realising that she had followed you almost all night after your argument.

It was a week or two later and there had been more suspicion. And definitely more arguments. Some petty, some just filled with a tension you couldn’t name. She had arrived late into the night, just as you were curling up with a book. You had finished your classes and began to rest before you would go out after she slept. She sighed twice as she got ready for bed but you just focused on your book.

Buffy left to the bathroom and then came back, sighing again loudly. When you ignored this, she spoke up.

“Turn the light off, Y/n!”

“I’m trying to read here – you’re the one that only just came back!” You warned her, the tone in your voice expecting an argument again. It had annoyed you because it gave you less time to do your errands. She had the entire day to do things she wanted, why did she have to take the night too?

“Well, I can’t stay here in the day you’re always taking those long naps”

“I live here, don’t I? I’m allowed to sleep sometime without your constant interruptions!”

“God! It’s like you don’t even sleep at all at night!” She bit back before turning away from you. She had started to lift back her bedclothes but stopped. She was thinking.

It’s like you don’t even sleep at night… The way you stood in front of the mirror to hide your reflection… The demon bar…. She barely ever saw you eating human food…

Buffy’s eyes bulged at this realisation. Of how you had hidden it for so long. What was your plan? Were you sent to seduce her? She had definitely seen you walking around in a towel more than once and her mouth had dropped every time, her eyes not able to look away.

You had turned off your light and pretended to sleep. You had a habit of doing this, waiting to hear her breathing softly. Imagining her inviting you to slide in beside her. To hold her in those surprisingly strong arms of hers. You often waited until she was properly asleep and then you would get back to whatever activity you wanted. You may even go on a walk and take in the night air if you were in the mood.

But she never got into her bed or allowed you to conjure up your vivid fantasy of holding her while she slept. Lazily staying in bed on a Sunday Evening. Sleepy kisses. Oh God, you had it bad.

No, she didn’t even allow you to imagine so far as her inviting you into bed before she grabbed your shoulder and harshly turned you over to face her.

“What the fuck-!” You shouted, “What happened to my side and your side!?” you gestured from one side to the other your frown setting in almost as deep as when your vampire form changed.

“Up. Now. I can’t believe I didn’t see this!” She rolled her eyes at herself as you got out of bed, only now she realised you had only put on your pyjama top on to pretend you were sleeping.

She tried to punch you several times and you dodged her. You weren’t a fighter but there was something within you now that meant that you were better than a human at least. You didn’t really make any offensive blows, however. You didn’t really want to hurt her.

That was, until she took out a wooden stake. You knew enough to know this would be the end. Like, the real one this time. Your eyes widened and you started to throw desperate punches. She shoved you backwards and you almost had something close to an equally matched fight.

The room was a mess, no counter was safe. The room shook and almost felt as if it would crumble around you. The air was thick, heated. Fuelled by your fight. Your frustration. Your… incredible attraction to her when she became feisty.

“Those things are actually really dangerous – get it off me!” You screamed as the stake came too close to your heart again. You slammed her hand against something leaving her dropping the stake. But she already pulled another from somewhere before you even had time to celebrate this win.

“Introductions. Slayer, meet vampire. Vampire, meet slayer. Me” Buffy stated, a self-satisfied grin that frustrated you as she rushed you.

Both of you now throwing wilder punches. The fight raging on, heatedly. You were trying to get her off you but she was so strong.

“I thought the whole van helsing thing was a myth” you said a hint of humour but you weren’t sure where this was going. You really enjoyed the contact with her but you had kind of hoped she would want to embrace you instead.

“Well, you were myth-taken” She quipped, “A vampire who doesn’t know the slayer? God, you are new”

“Aw, what, you don’t wanna be my tomb-mate?” you teased and she flipped you over your head, leaving you sprawled on the floor. Before you could even think (your brain was left somewhere above you), she was on top of you. The stake had been lost, flung far away by your defensive movement in the fight.

You were so conflicted as she descended on you. You could become so annoyed with her and yet so unbelievably attracted to her at the same time. It was infuriating. And now you weren’t sure what was coming next.

She straddled you, her face agonisingly close to yours. The way her body heaved, her desperate intake of breath. You saw the glint in her eyes, the one where she knew she was right. Knew she had won.

But rather than moving, doing anything to hurt you she stopped. Your wrists pinned where she held them.

The moment slowing down. Time standing to a stop.

You felt her hands slide up, now on resting on your once curled hands. Her fingers locking with yours. The most life, most alive you had felt. Her grasp on you was firm. She was incredibly strong.

But her brow furrowed deeper. She was debating something. Deep within, you could almost hear it her mind was so loud. You started to breath deeply, from habit and anticipation. Your own chest heaving at the proximity. Her eyes dropped to your lips. It was only brief but you willed her to do it again.

Willed her to give all of her attention to you, even if it was to say goodbye. To end your very short unlife.

You would take it, you would take any of it. You licked your lips, eyes scanning her face. Daring to hope.

Your hands, rather than curling into fists were now holding hers just as tight as she gripped you. There was an intimacy to it, no other way to describe it.

Within moments, life rushed back into motion. Her lips instantly on yours. It was passion and urgency and she near knocked the breath back into your body. Her mouth willing yours open, her tongue meeting yours. Desperate for you and willing you to stop her at the same time.

The room around you was on fire. Crackling with the ember of desire that was starting to rise. The room surrounding you was igniting. It could burn down for all either of you cared. You only had eyes for each other. Hands, mouths, everything. For each other.

Her lips sloppily kissing down your jaw, along your neck. You sighed in pleasure, her lips felt so good. She relaxed her grip, only for a moment. As you began wrapped up in the kisses she pressed against your neck you decided to wrestle against her. Managing to roll her onto her back. Allowing you to move on top of her. Your thighs either side of her heavenly body.

The kiss waged on, hands tangling in hair. Grasping at skin. The touch sizzling, warming each other inside and out. You were addicted to her. Her lips. Her hands.

Just as she was to you. It was gradual and sudden. Every sense of hers was wrapped in you.

You knew then. This wasn’t the end. Not of your unlife, not even of your relationship with Buffy. It was just the beginning.

The beginning of the intense and intricate dance you would choreograph together. Weaving between such animal attraction and adoration that blurred into one.

You adored her even when you shouldn’t. She couldn’t get her mind off you, even though she tried.

[cherokeegal1975]

Unexpected Cargo, Ch. 2

Refuge       Little Girl landed tiredly next to him on the steep sandy grade a few yards away from the cave entrance.  Goldie leapt off of her withers and onto Johnny's back as he lay prone with his forehead pressed against his left forearm, trying not to vomit as the cramp subsided.       "Get up!" Goldie squeaked urgently in his ear as Little Girl pushed him with her wet muzzle, dampened with tears of fear and worry, soaking the cloth of his robes as she started to cry again.  "They are too far away to see us, but I can still hear their noisy engines coming our way."       Johnny shifted and Goldie jumped off his back.  He tried to breathe as slowly and deeply as he could.  He had already retched up everything in his stomach several miles back.  The next time, a couple of miles later, he only got the dry heaves.  As his queasy stomach began to settle, he made it to his hands and knees when he felt a warm and sensual ball of electric heat formed in his lower abdomen.  It spread rapidly in a matter of seconds to every part of his being, causing him to shudder uncontrollably while it held him in its thrall.  Just as abruptly the sensation had come, it vanished and he felt better.  No upset stomach and no bad cramps.       The whole experience lasted only a moment and Johnny was finally able to stagger to his feet unassisted.  Somehow he knew the sudden attacks were over and that he would be fine now. Little Girl shape shifted back into her human child form so she could fit more easily through the cave's opening and swung the satchel over one bare slender shoulder.  As it was often her custom, she went nude (since clothes could not change with her), finding clothes unnatural, impractical and confining.  Generally, the only time she put on clothes was when they went to town, which Johnny insisted on for her own safety.       Goldie went into the cave ahead of them, eager to be inside before the sandstorm she knew was coming in about an hour's time.  It was another survival adaptation that made desert rats such useful companions to those who had them.  Johnny entered the cave himself behind Little Girl's slight frame.  He had to duck and squeeze through the crack in the rock, snagging his robes and his loose pants before he could make it through.       Once inside, the passage opened up immediately to a spacious room with a small crack in the ceiling that let in daylight and could serve as a smoke hole should anyone need to build a fire.       He paused only a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the cave, then walked straight back to where Little Girl and Goldie crouched at the edge of a small spring in the stone floor.  With a sigh of relief, he knelt between them, pulled back his sleeves and reached out with his hands to the gently rippling surface of the life sustaining water.       He glimpsed his dim wavering reflection in the pool before he cupped his hands to fill them with water and drank, reliving his parched throat.  He resisted the urge to gulp it down as a precaution against upsetting his stomach again.  The stubble on his face was prickling his hands as he drank and he thought he needed a shave.  He hadn't managed one since the day before yesterday.       Johnny was dusky skinned with fine and sharp angles in his features, high cheekbones, fine black brows, high arched nose, big liquid black eyes with long black eyelashes and full masculine lips.  He was handsome, even charming when he tried.  His hair was covered with head dress made of a reddish brown cloth that was held in place with a woven black head band.  Under it his shining black hair was long enough to fall all the way to his feet.  He kept it bound in a tight bun at the base of his skull most of the time to keep it out of the way.  It was considered to be a sign of strength and masculinity for a man to never cut his hair, a tradition he had adopted soon after joining his tribe as a boy.       His body was long, lean and hard muscled.  His long fingered hands were strong and callused from years of rough work.  He could never get fat, what he didn't work off, the desert sun seemed to sear away.       Little Girl in her human form was similarly lean and hard muscled.  Her skin was golden brown and her nearly waist length wavy and curly auburn hair glistened with golden highlights.  Her eyes were large with chocolate brown irises, fine brows, full pinkish lips and the general cast of her facial features was rounded, angelically perfect and amazingly gorgeous.       In her dragon form she was also quite beautiful.  Elongated triangular head with powerful jaws, almost raptor beak shaped lips and dog like teeth with the upper canine elongated just enough for the tips to protrude slightly.  Powerfully muscled all over, with a horse like neck, lizard ears, large cat eyes the color of topaz with hints of light emerald green in the centers.  Each eye was protected by a single thick and smooth bony brow ridge.  Her hard scales, smooth as a serpent's, were a deep goldenrod color that blended well with the hues of the desert.  Most dragons have snake-scoot like armor plates that run from just under their chin all the way down to just past the base of their tails.  However, Little Girl's kind didn't have that particular feature; she was just smooth scales all over.       An unusual feature of her species is that the females have a marsupial like pouch to carry their eggs and young.  Her powerful hind limbs were slightly longer than her forelimbs, the better to jump into the sky.  Another feature unique to her species was the reddish brown feathered eagle wings and soft fur like feather mane that ran all the way from the top of her head to her withers that stood straight up.  Along the top of her tail she had a similar strip of feathers from the base to its tip.  Both were the same color as her hair in human form, only in her true form, the golden highlights were iridescent metallic gold colored patterns.       Little Girl's feet closely resembled monkey paws with sharp curved dark brown claws with rough scales on the bottoms that gave her better grip for climbing.  Her forepaws were every bit as nimble as a human's hands.  Her head, wings and feet looked slightly too big for her.  Her head was just a bit more rounded and softer in appearance than the adult dragon's.  As she aged to maturity her features would harden into a fiercer countenance and her body parts would look less ill proportioned.       And Goldie?  Well, she just looked like a big healthy and slightly plump rat the size of a small domestic cat.  Her shining fur was her most unusual feature, even for her kind.  It was a golden, streaked here and there with copper and bronze without being metallic in hue.  The bare skin on her tail, slightly enlarged ears, feet and nose were brownish with pink undertones.  She had another unusual feature for a rat, her forepaws were actually hands.  She was quite lovely in her own way.       Her black beady eyes, the way she moved and interacted with her environment, belied her high intelligence.  Desert rats were magical creatures with talents for food and water detection, weather sense, teleportation and human speech, though not all bothered to learn to speak a human language of any kind, preferring their own rat language.  The exception to this was the companion rats living with some of the nomadic tribes of the deep Red Sands Desert.  Constant close contact with humans, who treated them with kindness, respect and spoiled them rotten made them want to be more helpful and communicative with their human friends.       They were tough and well adapted to their desert environment.  They could go for days without water just by getting moisture from the plants and animals they ate.  They were amazingly good swimmers and had a special magic that prevented them from drowning.  They could remain immersed in water for days by using their magic to form an air bubble over their noses and mouths that constantly replenished itself from the oxygen in the water.  This saved them from drowning in the lowlands when it sometimes flooded during the rainy season, as they could accidently be swept away in the torrential waters that nearly always originated in the distant mountains to the east.  This magical talent also enabled them to hunt for small aquatic cave creatures like blind fish, small cave shrimp and salamanders.       Another odd trait of her kind was their extreme longevity.  Normal mundane rats averaged about two years in their life span, desert rats could live eighty or more years.  They were not as prolific since they didn't need to be.  They mated as often as they wished any time of the year, but females only became fertile once every three years.  When they did have litters, they often did it in a big way, having as many as fifteen pups at a time.       The odd family trio took their time drinking from the spring until they finally got their fill.       "Ahhh," Johnny sighed after dabbing his hands and mouth dry on his sleeves.  He sat back on his heels as his two family members finished drinking.       They were all exhausted and in need of food and rest.  Johnny wondered what was in the satchel Little Girl had been carrying for so long through the sky.  He hoped she had at least managed to steal some food from the camp because he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.  He was pleased to note that his current gastric discomfort was mere hunger and not the bad cramps and nausea head been enduring the past week.  He was feeling better and better by the moment in spite of being so tired.       "What's in the bag?" Johnny asked Little Girl as she too sat back on her heels, facing him as she did so.       She wrapped her small arms around her legs and leaned her chin onto her knees.  She looked up at him with those big liquid eyes and answered with a regretful sigh, "Not much.  Just the royal seal in its box, a few ration bars and some tubers I managed to dig up a few miles back.  I was looking for the charmed mirror grandmother gave you,  but I think I found it smashed with the other things the guards broke.  One of the men almost saw me and Goldie wanted me to hurry up.  So I hid and started singing so she could help you."       Johnny smiled at Little Girl's thoughtfulness and practicality.  "You and Goldie did alright, baby girl.  Though I would not have been upset if you left the royal seal behind.  Just this once I wouldn't have minded not being able to fulfill my contract with Princess Elena.  That seal is more trouble than it's worth."       "You're not mad?" Little Girl said as she stared at him with wide eyes.  She looked surprised and half pleading for him not to be angry with her.       "No, not this time," Johnny said affectionately as he reached out and tucked a loose strand of her silken hair behind her right ear.  Then he waved an admonishing finger at both of them and added with a gentle smile, "Just don't make disobeying me a habit.  I would rather you two stayed safe."       "It was my idea to come back after dark," Goldie said stubbornly.  "If she hadn't come with me I would have done what I could alone."       Johnny smiled and stroked Goldie's head with love and gratitude.  "Thanks both of you, I don't know when I could have escaped if you had not come back for me."       Johnny stood and retrieved the dark brown satchel and passed out the sweet potato like tubers the purple berry thorn bushes grew and the three ration bars between them.  As they ate, Johnny tried to think of what to do next through the increasing sleepiness that was slowly dragging him down.  After a few moments he could think of nothing else but to go back home to his family.  He'd been putting it off, fearing the royal guards would follow him even there, but now he saw no better option.       Johnny could hear the increasingly strong wind howling outside through the cave entrance and the small crack in the ceiling.  He looked up and saw the flying sand that was rapidly dimming what little of the morning light that managed to filter its way through the crack.  Good, their pursuers won't be able to hunt them in this weather.       "Goldie, I need to get a message to Mom," Johnny asked, as his rat nibbled on a piece of ration bar.  He didn't have much hope that Goldie would make it to his mother's tent just now.  Storms could interfere with certain spells, especially when a big electrical charge was built up in the atmosphere.  Teleportation was just one of those spells that were affected negatively by fouled weather.       Goldie regarded him thoughtfully over her piece of ration bar with her beady black eyes.  Then she tilted her head back and stood up on her hind legs, looking up and through the crack in the ceiling.   Long whiskers twitching, she tested the air with all her senses, detecting things only she could with her magic.         Then she dropped back down to her heels and looked at him.  "Can't do it.  I promise to go when the storm passes.  It will blow itself out in a few hours.  What is your message?"       "I need you to bring us home.  My sand ship has been captured and vandalized by Prince Richard's guards and they are still hunting us.  We are hiding in the Crack in the Rock Spring Cave."  Johnny paused to think of anything else to tell his mother.  Then he thought better of it, best to keep the message short and tell her everything when she found them.  "That should do for now."       "I can remember that," Goldie nodded and then resumed nibbling on her bit of ration bar.       They tried to make themselves comfortable as possible on the cool and uneven cave floor to get some sleep and wait out the storm.  Little Girl stretched out next to him in her full dragon form, hugging him and flipping a huge wing over him like a blanket.  Goldie snuggled under Little Girl's wing and made herself comfortable on Johnny's belly.       Little Girl and Goldie were soon fast asleep, but in spite of his exhaustion he found it difficult to fall asleep himself.  His mind refused to stop working.  How has his life turned out so right and so wrong at the same time? 

(This book can be bought on Amazon either as a paper back book or as a Kindle.  Just type in Unexpected Cargo by Meriah Smith and it will pop right up.)

[trinuviel]

Dragons, dragonslayers and weirwood arrows

In a previous post I have talked about how the Targaryen dragons died out during and in the aftermath of the Dance of Dragons. Dragons were extinct until Daenerys Targaryen hatches Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion in the Dothraki Sea of Grass.

However, I suspect that Dany’s dragons won’t survive the story. 

Indeed, in the show she has already lost Viserion to the Night’s King and his superior skills with the javelin.

Furthermore, the show teased Drogon’s death twice during the Battle on the Gold Road where Daenerys burnt the Lannister army and all the food they had collected from the Reach. As said in a previous post, dragons are hard to kill if you don’t have a dragon of your own. However, it is possible to kill a dragon using a scorpion as Queen Rhaenys’s dragon Meraxes was killed in the First Dornish War.

Interestingly enough, the show introduced just such a weapon and it was put to use by Bronn during the battle where he managed to hit Drogon.

He didn’t succeed kill the dragon but he managed to force Dany to land with Drogon to extract the bolt, which left her wide open to an attack from the ground. Jaime took that chance in a moment of utter and splendid recklessness.

JAIME THE DRAGONSLAYER

The visual of Jaime charging Drogon with a spear, mounted on a white horse immediately activated my art historical training since these three elements (knight, spear, white horse) are the most common iconographical symbols of St. George the Dragonslayer in the visual arts from the early Medieval Age to the 19th century (x).

(Paolo Uccello, St. George and the Dragon, ca. 1470)

(Gustave Moreau, St. George and the Dragon, ca. 1869)

Jaime fails as well but I would argue that the imagery cast him as a sort of Westerosi version of George the Dragonslayer and that may very well function as visual foreshadowing for Jaime eventually killing one of Dany’s dragons.  If Jaime is going to kill a dragon, which dragon will it be? Taking the visuals as a cue, assuming that the show is indeed referring to the art historical tradition, then I’d argue that Jaime will kill Rhaegal. Throughout the history of art, the dragon that St. George kills is almost always depicted as being green – and Rhaegal is described as green and bronze!

WEIRWOOD ARROWS AND THE DEATH OF THE BLACK DRAGON

(from The Sworn Sword: The Graphic Novel. Art by Mike S. Miller)

You might ask what all of this has to do with the First Blackfyre Rebellion and the Battle of the Redgrass Field. However, this battle is described in Grrm’s novella The Sworn Sword and I’d argue that there are elements to the story and how the language is used to tell it that may very well serve as a foreshadowing of a future dragonslaying. I know I’m mixing show and books here but since the show is based by the books and is committed to reach the same end, and The Sworn Sword has a direct connection to A Dance of Dragons through the figure of Bloodraven, I’d argue that it is possible to theorize in this manner.

When I read The Sworn Sword, my attention was caught by how it was Lord Bloodraven’s longbow company and their weirwood bows and arrows that turned the tide at the Battle of the Redgrass Field during the First Blackfyre Rebellion. This rebellion was a conflict between two sons of Aegon IV Targaryen, also called the Unworthy. Aegon IV chose to give his bastard Daemon Blackfyre, the ancestral Valyrian sword of House Targaryen. It was the sword that was wielded by Aegon the Conqueror and it was seen by many as one of the most important symbols of Targaryen kingship. Aegon IV compounded the issue by legitimizing all his bastards on his deathbed. Thus, the road was paved for Daemon Blackfyre to press a claim to the Iron Throne. Daemon Blackfyre was called the Black Dragon because he reversed the colours of House Targaryen on his sigil, wearing a black dragon on a red field.

Let’s have a look at how the Battle of the Redgrass Field is described in The Sworn Sword:

“The singers leave out much and more. Daemon was the Warrior himself that day. He broke Lord Arryn’s van to pieces and slew the Knight of Ninestars and Wild Wyl Waynwood before coming up against Ser Gwayne Corbray of the Kingsguard. […] It is said that whenever Blackfyre and Lady Forlorn clashed, you could hear the sound for a league around. But when at last the Lady faltered, Blackfyre clove through Ser Gwayne’s helm and left him blind and bleeding. Daemon dismounted to see that his fallen foe was not trampled, and commanded Redtusk to carry him back to the maesters in the rear. And there was his mortal error, for the Raven’s Teeth had gained the top of Weeping Ridge, and Bloodraven saw his half brother’s royal standard three hundred yards away, and Daemon and his sons beneath it. He slew Aegon first, the elder of the twins, for he knew that Daemon would never leave while warmth lingered in his body, though white shafts fell like rain. Nor did he, though seven arrows pierced him, driven as much by sorcery as by Bloodraven’s bow. Young Aemon took up Blackfyre when the blade slipped from his dying father’s fingers, so Bloodraven slew him too, the younger of the twins. Thus perished the black dragon and his sons.”

In the graphic novel that was adapted from the novella, it is Bloodraven himself that lets loose the fatal arrow, which made him a kinslayer (Daemon Blackfyre was his half-brother).

“The singers can go on about their hammer (Baelor “Breakspear” Targaryen) and their anvil (Maekar Targaryen), ser, but it was the kinslayer (Bloodraven) who turned the tide with a white arrow and a black spell.” - The Sworn Sword

The Raven’s Teeth was a company of longbow men under the command of Brynden Rivers, also known as the Bloodraven. This company was known for using bows and arrows made of weirwood. It is never stated outright but the passage quoted above puts a special emphasis on the fact that the arrows that slew the Blackfyre pretender – the Black Dragon – were made of white wood, and they appeared to be uncannily accurate. Bloodraven was himself an excellent archer and preferred his weirwood bow to the Valyrian sword Dark Sister, which originally was wielded by Visenya Targaryen during the Conquest.

Bloodraven – or Brynden Rivers as he was named – is a character of special interest in Grrm’s world because he also appears in A Dance of Dragons where he serves as Bran’s mentor in the art of greenseeing in his final guise as the Three-Eyed Crow. Brynden Rivers was another of Aegon IV’s bastards and he served as Hand to his nephew Aerys I Targaryen. Later he became Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.

Bloodraven suffered from albinism with extremely white skin and hair as well as unnerving red eyes. He got the moniker Bloodraven from a large wine coloured birthmark on his cheek.

(Brynden Rivers, the Bloodraven. art by Amok)

What is particularly interesting about Bloodraven is the fact that his mother Melissa belonged to House Blackwood. They had been kings of the Riverlands during the Age of Heroes but according to legend they originated in the North but were driven south by the Kings of Winter (the Starks). The sigil of House Blackwood is a dead weirwood tree on a red field, surrounded by black ravens.

Thus, Bloodraven had an ancestral connection to the weirwood trees of the Old Gods of the North, not to mention that he had the blood of the First Men. He also had the magic powers that sometimes manifests among the First Men, i.e. greenseeing and warging. He disappeared on a ranging north of the Wall but he didn’t die. Instead he took up residence as the Three-Eyed Crow in a cave beneath a weirwood tree together with the survivors among the Children of the Forest.

(Bran and the Three-Eyed Crow. Art by Marc Simonetti)

Bran meets him in A Dance with Dragons, when he is an old man who has literally become one with the weirwood tree. He becomes Bran’s tutor in greenseeing and it is under his guidance that Bran has a vision through the weirwood tree in Winterfell’s godswood, a vision that may very well become very important. The vision is of:

“A dark-eyed youth, pale and fierce, sliced three brances off the weirwood and shaped them into arrows.” – A Dance with Dragons, Bran III

Fans have long speculated that the boy in the vision is Brandon Snow, Torrhen Stark’s half-brother, who offered to kill the dragons of Aegon, Rhaenys and Visenya instead of submitting to them. If this is correct, then a weapon made of weirwood may have a special advantage against a dragon. 

If all of this is foreshadowing that a dragons will be killed by a weirwood arrow, then which dragon would that be? Let’s remember this line: “Thus perished the Black Dragon”! He was killed by a white arrow. Therefore, I’d argue that it will be Drogon, the black dragon, who will be felled by a weirwood arrow. The archer? Perhaps Theon Greyjoy. He is repeatedly described as a remarkably talented archer and let’s not forget the prophecy of Lodos that states that the Drowned God would rise up and destroy Aegon the Conqueror. A prophecy that the show added in a seemingly casual comment in season 7. The Drowned God is the god of the Greyjoys and in the books, Daenerys Targaryen is referred to as a female incarnation of Aegon the Conqueror. Since Dany always rides Drogon, it is not out of the realm of possibility that she and her dragon will be killed by Theon with a weirwood arrow.

[yasbxxgie]

4 Feet Tall, in Men’s Clothing, She Was an Artistic Genius in 19th-Century Italy

The idea that in order to succeed an artist must first suffer is one with a long history. In that sense, the life and work of Edmonia Lewis, the first black sculptor to gain an international reputation, is instructive, since art historians have judged that “the obstacles [she] overcame are unparalleled in American art.” She suffered, and yet it did not kill her, or kill her career. In all, Lewis created about 60 unique and highly regarded sculptures.

The precise details of Lewis’ early years are unclear. She was most likely born in 1844 or 1845 near Albany, N.Y., to an African-American father and a mother who was of Native American descent. It is possible that the family, including a half-brother, Samuel, lived briefly in Newark, N.J., but by the age of 9, Lewis was orphaned and adopted by her mother’s aunts into a nomadic Mississauga band of the Ojibwe near Niagara Falls. As a child, she was given the Ojibwe name “Wildfire”; learned to catch and cook her own meals; and made and sold moccasins, baskets and other souvenirs.

In 1859 Lewis’ older brother Samuel, who by then had made a fortune in the California Gold Rush, paid Lewis’ tuition for the ladies preparatory program at Oberlin College in Ohio. Oberlin was one of the few institutions open to blacks at that time.

Lewis’ experiences at Oberlin were shaped by the heightened racial tensions of the early Civil War years. When white housemates accused her of poisoning them with Spanish fly, a local mob, long opposed to Oberlin’s interracialism, beat Lewis’ tiny frame—she was only 4 feet tall—and left her for dead. She recovered, only to face her accusers again in court. The case, however, was dismissed for lack of evidence. The following year, 1863, Lewis was again falsely accused, this time of stealing art supplies, and was expelled from Oberlin.

She then moved to Boston, determined to become an artist, and cultivated links with abolitionists William Lloyd Garrison and Lydia Maria Child, and others who knew of her from Oberlin. Within a year she had produced her first works—clay-and-plaster medallions and busts of abolitionist and Civil War heroes—and sold more than 100 reproductions of her bust of Robert Gould Shaw, the famed, white colonel of the black 54th Massachusetts Regiment. With the proceeds from sales to patriotic Unionists, the fiercely ambitious—and undeniably self-confident—Lewis financed a trip to Italy, first to Florence and then Rome, which was then regarded as the West’s foremost center for sculpture.

Lewis would produce most of her work in Rome, where there was already a vibrant community of expatriate artists—labeled by the writer Henry James as “that strange sisterhood of American ‘lady sculptors’”—with which she became associated, but she was never fully part of its inner circle. Fiercely independent, Lewis refused to hire assistants, and taught herself to carve marble, work that was both physically and artistically demanding.

By the 1870s her studio had become a fashionable place for American tourists to visit. They were intrigued by the diminutive and charming sculptor, often attired in men’s clothing and wearing a distinctive red cap. As in Boston, she continued to make money from terra-cotta or marble busts of Civil War and abolitionist icons, as well as copies of works from classical antiquity.

She produced her first large-scale marble sculpture, The Freed Woman and Her Child, in 1866. Now lost—along with half of her 60 major works—it was the first work by an African-American sculptor to depict the subject of emancipation. She revisited the theme in Forever Free (1867)—now held by Howard University—which she dedicated to Garrison, and which depicts a man and a woman casting off their slave shackles. Among her other notable works are several sculptures of Hagar, the female slave and concubine of Abraham in the Old Testament, with whose travails Lewis clearly identified. “I have a strong sympathy for all women who have struggled and suffered,” she told a journalist in 1871.

Inspired by her Mississauga upbringing and by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “Song of Hiawatha,” Lewis also created several sculptures depicting Native themes, notably The Old Arrowmaker and His Daughter (also known as The Wooing of Hiawatha), now held by the Smithsonian. She was known for her depictions of American Indians as proud and peaceful, rather than the stereotypical images of half-naked savages.

In the mid-1870s, Lewis took several trips to the United States to exhibit and sell her work. Her most notable visit was in 1876 to the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition, where she was the only African American whose work was exhibited. Her dramatic, life-size piece The Death of Cleopatra was visited by large crowds and was hailed as the one of the most original and striking exhibits at the exposition. As one artist noted, “The effects of death are represented with such skill as to be absolutely repellent—and it is a question whether a statue of the ghastly characteristics … does not overstep the bounds of legitimate art.”

After exhibiting the piece again in Chicago in 1878, Lewis placed the 2-ton sculpture in storage in the Windy City and returned to Rome. Her masterpiece somehow ended up in a Chicago saloon and for a time served as a monument to an infamous gambler’s dead horse (also named Cleopatra) who was buried at a racetrack in suburban Chicago. It was discovered nearby in the 1980s, abandoned in the storage room of a shopping mall, having been painted over by a local Boy Scout troop. Following a lengthy and difficult $30,000 restoration, it now resides in the Smithsonian.

In the 1880s, Lewis continued to work and make her home in Rome, but her style was no longer in such great demand. The neoclassical tradition of sculpture was by then being eclipsed by the Romantic themes and style of Auguste Rodin and others. Bronze replaced marble as the medium of choice, and Paris overtook Rome as the center of the art world.

Until recently, the final years of Lewis’ life were largely unknown, other than her meeting with Frederick Douglass and his wife in Rome in 1887. But in 2012, historian Marilyn Richardson—an expert on Lewis’ work—located a death notice for Edmonia Lewis, which showed that her final years were spent in London. She died there in September 1907, in her early 60s, and left behind a modest financial estate.

Edited by Henry Louis Gates Jr. and Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham, the African American National Biography was first published by Oxford University Press in an award-winning, eight-volume print edition in 2008; a 12-volume second edition followed in 2012. As of 2015, more than 5,500 separate AANB entries are available online as part of OUP’s African American Studies Center. This biography was adapted from the AANB entry by Lisa Rivo.

Steven J. Niven is executive editor of the Dictionary of Caribbean and Afro-Latin American Biography, the Dictionary of African Biography, and the African American National Biography at Harvard University’s Hutchins Center for African and African American Research. He is also the author of Barack Obama: A Pocket Biography of Our 44th President.

Photograph:

Edmonia Lewis circa 1870 (National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.)

[calorieworkouts]

Should You Try LL Cool J`s Platinum Workout? Here`s My Review

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LL Amazing J is a hip hop artist as well as an actor ... but he's likewise known for his incredibly ripped body and also currently we could all benefit from his wisdom in LL Cool J's Platinum Workout. Targeted to guys, LL Cool J offers four various workout apps (in addition to one for women) together with dish plans as well as his signature pearls of knowledge for getting in shape and obtaining one of the most from your body. The exercises follow a direct pattern permitting you to construct stamina and also muscular tissue over numerous weeks.

His practical design is entertaining and he supplies straightforward info concerning entering your finest shape.

The Workout Programs

The workout apps are divided right into 4 stages so you could begin at the beginner level, Bronze Body, or at the more experienced levels of Silver Body, Gold Body and also Platinum Body.

Bronze Body

The first stage lasts 4 weeks and the initial week includes preparing your body and setting for exercise by cleaning the kitchen, getting healthy foods and also keeping an exercise journal. During this stage, you also start to consume even more constant meals and prepare your home fitness center or join a fitness center for exercise. The next 2 weeks includes 3 circuit exercises with workouts targeting the whole body (e.g., leg press, rows, upper body press, and so on), transforming the exercises on the 4th week. These workouts also consist of marginal cardio at the end.

Silver Body

During the 5th week, you switch to exercising weights as well as do a split regimen with straight collections working the chest, arms, back and also shoulders on 2 non-consecutive days and the legs and also abs on the other days.

You also do 15-20 mins of cardio after each exercise. Weeks 6-9 starts the 'strength phase' where you do more workouts, less reps and more collections as well as more weight exercises. Some of the exercises include barbell squats, slope presses, push-ups and dips.

Gold Body

During this phase, you change emphasis to supersets and also working to failing while adding even more workout days and also tougher cardio workouts that have you increasing rate and/or incline.

You'll likewise do a cardio circuit rotating jumping rope and also pushups-oh my!

For weeks 16-19, you switch equipments to 'super-muscle-building' with 6 exercise days and a whole lot more cardio.

Platinum Body

This phase, as LL cautions us, is difficult. This 3-week phase shakes things up and consists of some tough circuit exercises. For instance, throughout one exercise you do an incline upper body press, stood up to slope push-ups as well as 90 seconds of leaping rope. After you rest for a min, you duplicate that circuit prior to going on to the following circuit - bench presses, slope flies as well as a 2-minute treadmill sprint. The last circuit includes weights curls, pinhead swirls, preacher curls as well as sprints, which you duplicate 3 times.

The exercises likewise include an overall body regimen, a track exercise that consists of sprints, a reduced body exercise and 2 even more cardio workouts.

The exercises throughout the Platinum Phase are without a doubt the most difficult, so you'll want all those various other weeks of workout behind you before you try this one.

The Diamond Body

Though ladies can certainly do this app, he does include an app for ladies that begins with circuit training as well as then relocates right into a split routine.

It adheres to the exact same pattern as the other phases, but with much less quantity compared to the other training apps. What's excellent concerning this is that the workouts are just as difficult as well as he makes the factor that females require to lift weights merely as high as guys and also, more significantly, they won't bulk up because they don't have the necessary hormones.

Overall, the workouts are strong and what's nice here is that he discusses the science and also thought-process behind the programs so you understand why you're doing what you're doing ... something many books don't do. It helps to remain inspired when you have a reason wherefore you're doing.

The Meal Plans and More

One point LL Cool J highlights in the book is consuming the appropriate way. This possibly isn't information to the majority of individuals, but he does supply nutritional info in an unique means. Instead compared to talk us, he offers the material through a meeting with registered dietician Christopher Mohr in which they supply pointers such as consuming whole-grains, lean meats, more fiber as well as preventing sugar. Once again, absolutely nothing unexpected here.

This chapter also provides charts for determining the amount of calories you need and a listing of carbohydrates, proteins as well as fats that are healthy and balanced and must be consumed regularly as well as those you need to avoid.

Throughout guide, he supplies meal plans for each phase of the app. As an example, in the Bronze Phase you concentrate on consuming healthy and also sustaining your body. In the Silver Stage, you reduce your calories and also carbs as well as increase protein for fat loss. In the Gold Stage and also Platinum stage, you concentrate on reducing calories a little bit more, though not so much that you don't have energy for workouts.

He also offers try dish plans which consist of 6 meals a day with a range of foods like oatmeal, omelets, fish, covers, salads as well as more.

The dish strategies resemble the workouts ... strong information, however absolutely nothing terribly earth-shattering. His major focus is just what we all know to do - consume even more fruits and also veggies while staying clear of processed foods, trans fat and other no-nos.

The Pros and Cons

Aside from the apps and also meal plans, other highlights consist of:

Pictures and summaries of all the exercises

Detailed information regarding building muscle, losing fat, being flexible and also remaining on track

More personal chapters that review his life when driving, his songs, his acting and also his inclinations for perfume, underwear and the necessary 'Bling.'

The Pros

The workout programs. They're well-thought out and he plainly talked to experts to get them ideal. Any person can do this app, from newbies to sophisticated and, if you follow it, you'll definitely see results.

Solid information. Throughout the book, he gives details regarding every little thing from steroids to utilizing excellent form during stamina training. He also includes a selection of terrific recipes.

Entertaining style. LL Cool J's personality radiates via so, if you're a fan, you'll be entertained as well as educated at the exact same time.

Great advice. LL Cool J makes certain viewers recognize just how much difficult job enters into improving your body. As he puts it, "the key to this whole point is doing what you're meant to do even when you don't necessarily want to."

The Cons

The just concern I had with the book was the layout. It's scattered and it's hard to browse to find different phases of the program because they aren't together in one section. It's a small quibble, but it would behave to see the educational chapters, such as the ones on structure muscle/losing fat as well as adaptability in one section and the exercise plans in another.

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Disclosure: An evaluation copy was provided by the author. To learn more, please see our Ethics Policy.

[hermanwatts]

Sensor Sweep: Michael Shea, Hugh Cave, Walking Dead

Comic Books (Paint Monk): If you think I worship at the proverbial altar of Roy Thomas when it comes to Conan comic books, you’re right. I do. But it’s not undeserved. Not only was Thomas the man who worked to bring Conan to Marvel, but he also took his time with character research, developing all the nuances of the Cimmerian and making sure the Hyborian Age was portrayed by the most capable artistic staff the House of Ideas could muster (within budget, of course)! He scripted the initial run of Conan for the first 115 issues.

  Sales (Cirsova): I don’t know that I’ve mentioned it here, but we have made some of the Wild Stars backstock available via our Amazon store. We had several damaged copies when trying to fulfill our crowdfunds–these have been made available at 1/2 SRP. I’ll note that while a few of these were pretty mangled, most of them were dents, dings and corner creases. While these would’ve been unacceptable to send to backers or for retail shelves [especially for comic folks], these are perfectly good readable copies if you want Wild Stars at a lower buy-in.

  Zombies (Everyday Should be Tuesday):  I have long been a fan of the comics and watcher of the show, but I haven’t yet dived into any of The Walking Dead novels.  But with an impending trip to China and a good experience with Chu’s Lives of Tao books, Typhoon was the perfect book to start with.  Chu takes the action across the Pacific, telling a story set after the zombie apocalypse hit China.  If you think walkers are bad, wait until there are 700 million of them.

  Publishing (Kairos): If you travel in the circles where this blog is read, you already know that yesterday Amazon nuked preorders for Jon Del Arroz’s and Declan Finn’s latest books. Amazon shut down Jon Del Arroz’s Glorified novel along with Declan Finn’s Deus Vult novel from publisher Silver Empire.  Publisher Russell Newquist was informed that both books, which were scheduled to be released on November 1st, were removed from Amazon and Kindle.

    Fantasy (Misha Burnett): I have been thinking a lot about Fantasy, and specifically about fantastic settings–settings in which the fantastic elements are integral to the world. And frankly, I’m not interested in writing stories set in some vaguely Central European kingdom in the First Millenium AD. The Tolkien/D&D/Swords & Sorcery kind of setting is one that I don’t really relate to. I’ve never ridden a horse or herded a sheep.  I’ve never been in an actual stone castle, never fought using a sword or a mace, never fired a bow, and sitting around a campfire is something I do before I go inside and sleep in a real damned bed.

  Science Fiction (Futurism.com): In 1982, director Ridley Scott graced the world with “Blade Runner,” the cult-favorite sci-fi film noir that painted a stunning picture of a bleak, distant future: November 2019. Since that starts, well, today, let’s compare our current timeline to the one in “Blade Runner.” Just please don’t bring back those insufferable jokes about hoverboards that flooded the internet in 2015 when we hit the futuristic date that Marty McFly traveled to “Back To The Future Part II.”

  Authors (DMR Books): Dr. Timothy Willocks was born in Cheshire, England, to a working-class family. He graduated from the University College Hospital Medical School, whereupon he began practicing medicine. He did some time as an intern in a trauma ward before specializing in the treatment of drug addiction. Tim eventually grew tired of the stress and hassles involved with practicing medicine and turned to writing. Willocks’ first published novel was the noir thriller, Bad City Blues. His next novel, Green River Rising, was optioned by Hollywood.

  Warhammer (Track of Words): In this instalment I spoke to legendary Black Library author CL Werner about his new Warhammer Horror novel Castle of Blood, which is available to order now in hardback, ebook and audiobook formats. It’s the first full-on horror novel released for Age of Sigmar, and promises to be very interesting indeed! Let’s get straight to the questions and Clint’s answers, to find out more.

  Gaming (Dungeon Fantastic): GURPS DF has copper pieces ($1), silver pieces ($4) and gold pieces ($80). DF Felltower has its own devalued set. AD&D has copper, silver, electrum, gold, platinum, Rolemaster has coins from bronze to gold going by tens, and Dragonlance even has steel pieces (Hah*). Generally, though, those coins are the same everywhere. It’s rare for places to have extra coins.

  Fiction (Mystery File): THEODORE STURGEON “The Ultimate Egoist.” Short story. First published in Unknown, February 1941. Collected in Without Sorcery (Prime Press, hardcover, 1949) and The Golden Helix (Dell, paperback, 1980; Carroll & Graf, paperback, 1989), among others. Reprinted in Human?, edited by Judith Merrill (Lion #205, paperback, 1954).    I suppose everyone, at one time or another, has had the following fantasy: that the world you see, and the objects in it, could disappear if you simply decided that they no longer existed. That the facade of life revolves around you and you only. You don’t even have to admit it. I know you have.

Halloween (Jon Mollison): Tomorrow night marks the one celebration that traditionally brings neighbors together to celebrate as a community.  Yes, we all grumble about early Christmas decorations and wish each other Happy New Year at parties, but Halloween is the one where you go out and meet your neighbors and share in a communal love of the macabre and candy and making little kids smile.

Fiction (Adventures Fantastic): He That Hath Wings” is one of Hamilton’s best works, so I was surprised to find that it hasn’t been reprinted very often.  Fortunately, The Best of Edmond Hamilton is in print, although the cover illustration of the current edition (see below) isn’t nearly as good. Just so you know, I’m going to discuss this story in detail, so expect spoilers. The story concerns a boy, David Rand, whose parents were caught in what is only described as an electrical explosion, but they were exposed to some unidentified form of radiation.  David’s father dies before his is born, and his mother dies a few hours after his birth.

Men’s Adventure Magazines (Mens Pulp Mags): Bob Deis and Wyatt Doyle — the editors and publishers of THE MEN’S ADVENTURE LIBRARY series — will have their latest book, POLLEN’S ACTION, at this year’s PulpFest. It collects the cream of the Samson Pollen’s high-octane action paintings for the men’s adventure magazines. They’ll also have a limited number of copies of EVA: MEN’S ADVENTURE SUPERMODEL. These are being produced exclusively for members of PulpFest. This special edition — predating the title’s wide release by several months — will look at actress, pin-up model, and men’s adventure magazine artist’s model Eva Lynd.

Comic Books (John C. Wright): Feserm or, rather, the scoundrel JBS Haldane, defines the terms fantasy and imagination incorrectly, even misleadingly, but the point still stands. I propose a clearer definition: One is mere wish fulfillment that excludes consequences and context, and hence is outside the moral order. The suave British spy who nonchalantly seduces any gorgeous woman seen, yet without fathering any bastards or breaking any hearts, is an example.

Fiction (Paperback Warrior): The character of Modesty Blaise was conceived as a comic strip in 1963 by British writer Peter O’Donnell. The success of the strip landed O’Donnell a film deal, and he wrote an early draft of the screenplay starring his sexy, female spy for a movie that was eventually released in 1966. A year before the movie’s release, O’Donnell adapted his unproduced screenplay into the first of 11 Modesty Blaise paperback novels in this highly-regarded series.

Fiction (DMR Books): It is in Michael Shea’s Nifft the Lean where the author really shines in the way of crafting some amazing and unique dark fantasy. While using a familiar Dying Earth type of setting, and a style of prose that one might compare to Clark Ashton Smith or Fritz Leiber at times, it is the inventiveness of the plots that set the stories apart. Although Shea continued the Nifft series later in his career, the original saga published in the 1982 DAW collection consisted of four main tales.

Pulp (Mystery File): Private eyes in detective fiction are as often as not hard drinkers, and some of them are awfully good at it. But few of them are as good at it as was Peter Kane. There isn’t a single minute in “The Late Mr. Smythe” in which he isn’t totally sozzled. I can’t believe that anyone could go through life the same way he does, in three stages: drunk, drunker, and completely plastered.

Greyhawk (Boggswood): A few posts back, I posted an Apocalypse map of Blackmoor showing what Greyhawks’ Blackmoor should look like with the towns and rivers properly placed.  The map you see here is the one I used to site those locations.

Fiction (Black Gate): Bad guy, villain, evildoer, crook, criminal, and gangster. Fiction has a love affair with these characters ranging from low-level sneak thieves to wizards intent on destroying all life on Earth. In many cases, the villain is the driving force behind the tale. Where would fiction be without Lady MacBeth, Grendel’s Mother, Long John Silver, or Count Dracula? Though the villain is often the impetus, they rarely hold the place of protagonist in novels until recent times. A few famous characters did achieve notoriety, influencing fiction to this day.

Sensor Sweep: Michael Shea, Hugh Cave, Walking Dead published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

[chocolateheal]

Seven Society Of Female Artists Tips You Need To Learn Now | society of female artists

Last month, a record-breaking hundred and twenty-seven women were affidavit in to the U.S. Senate and the Abode of Representatives. Now forty-four women accept taken over the walls of Gracie Mansion, the official home of the Mayor of New York but additionally “the people’s house” of New York City. The break is “She Persists: A Century of Women Artists in New York,” an aggressive exhibition inventively curated by the adolescent art historian Jessica Bell Brown, at the allurement of Chirlane McCray, the city’s Aboriginal Lady. Sixty paintings, sculptures, videos, prints, textiles, drawings, and photographs are installed throughout the formally appointed apartment on the aboriginal attic of the Federal-style house. The after-effects are adapted and unexpected. Museum staples (the Abstract Expressionist painter Lee Krasner, the columnist Cindy Sherman) allotment the date with ascent stars (the sculptor Simone Leigh, the category-defying Mickalene Thomas). Bell Brown additionally introduces some unsung heroines—including the Aboriginal Lady’s backward mother, Katharine Clarissa Eileen McCray, who sewed and abstract hundreds of alluring bolt dolls that she dubbed “Quashies,” in account of own mother’s West-African beginning name. Three are on display, apery her daughters, Chirlane, Cynthia, and Cheryl.

The ancient McCray’s labors of adulation acquisition a arrant analogue in “The Advantages of Being a Woman Artist,” a 1988 affiche by the Guerrilla Girls, an bearding aggregate of changeable artists, which hangs in Gracie Mansion’s ballroom. The aboriginal “advantage” is “Working after the burden of success.” Historically, of course, the allowance of obscurity accept been exponentially greater for women of color. One agitating moment in the exhibition is a black-and-white account by an alien columnist (was she a woman, too?), documenting the Harlem Renaissance sculptor Augusta Savage in the aggregation of a arresting sculptural choir of cast-plaster abstracts that angle at accelerating heights to cumulatively advance the appearance of a harp. Commissioned for the 1939 World’s Fair, area it was put on display, the allotment was conceived to be casting in bronze, but the allotment was never secured, so it was destroyed already the fair ended. Beyond the pics-or-it-didn’t-happen desolation of the angel lies a adventure of #MeToo-style harassment, which Jill Lepore afresh brought to ablaze in an article and a consecutive book: the belled Joe Gould, a writer-fabulist, stalked Savage so relentlessly that she fled the city, in 1945, and died, forgotten, in 1962. (Happily, the New-York Historical Society will accessible a Savage attendant in May.)

The account of Savage hangs in the mansion’s Peach Room, abreast “Haven,” a agilely aureate painting by Elizabeth Colomba, from 2015, which portrays an abstract brace in the celebrated adjacency of Weeksville, Brooklyn. (Established in 1838, Weeksville was one of the aboriginal communities founded by chargeless African-Americans in the United States.) The august brace boring over their amateur at a cloud-clotted landscape: a storm recedes, dejected sky break through, achievement is on the horizon. The canvas hangs aloft a mantel on which a brownish baby of Eleanor Roosevelt gazes up, askew by her Weeksville neighbors. The cartoon is a Gracie Mansion fixture, not a allotment of the show, but this call-and-response is archetypal of Bell Brown’s active approach. In addition hasty cross-pollination, “Haven” hangs beyond from “Sun Spot,” a clamor of absorption corrective by Helen Frankenthaler, in 1954, in umber, russet, and black. This palette echoes that of Colomba’s painting, the acknowledged focal point of the room.

In the high-ceilinged ballroom, abreast the Guerrilla Girls poster, a vitrine is abounding with ephemera—campaign buttons, flyers, best editions of books—devoted to the incomparable, Brooklyn-born Shirley Chisholm, the aboriginal atramentous woman adopted to Congress. Not included is her acclaimed adduce “If they don’t accord you a bench at the table, accompany a folding chair.” Beyond the accessible ballroom, in the library, Bell Brown ups the ante on Chisholm’s admonition by installing two admirable Florence Knoll chairs, adipose in costly anthracite fabric. (The beat modernist, who is the abandoned decorative-arts artisan represented in “She Persists,” died on January 25th, at the age of a hundred and one, which lends the abandoned chairs an adventitious atramentous note.) They face “Lost in the Music,” a four-minute video by the artist-activist Tourmaline and the filmmaker Sasha Wortzel. It centers on Marsha P. Johnson, a annoyance aerialist who ample acutely in the Stonewall riots and who could abandoned accept dreamed of a bench at the Aboriginal Lady’s table. The aforementioned ability be said of the three sanitation workers crabbed the artisan Mierle Laderman Ukeles in a blush photograph from 1980, the year that Ukeles assured her months-long achievement of afraid the duke of anniversary of the city’s eighty-five-hundred “san men.”

This is hardly the aboriginal art exhibition at Gracie Mansion—it’s the third in the de Blasio Administration alone, and, afore Fiorello LaGuardia inaugurated it as the mayoral residence, in 1942, the architecture served as the aboriginal home of the Museum of the Burghal of New York. But the appearance is celebrated nonetheless, not atomic for the attendance of so abounding atramentous artists in a abode built, in 1799, by the activity of the enslaved. Those ancestors are not forgotten. Their ghosts accost visitors alfresco the advanced door, area Kara Walker’s brownish carve “Invasive Species (to be placed in your built-in garden)” is installed. The awash figure, whose two burst anxiety still advance ahead, is an anti-monument to racist brutality, which, horribly, additionally persists.

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20 Shocking Facts About Interior Design Magazine | interior design magazine

Asia’s interiors, design, architectonics and burghal active annual annual Architectonics Anthology has announces the finalists of its countdown Architectonics Anthology Awards.

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Suzy Annetta, editor-in-chief of Architectonics Anthology wrote in a absolution beatific to The Jakarta Post on Tuesday that the finalists had been called by an admired console of board from beyond the architectonics industry.

“The ability of entries was awfully high. We can’t delay to advertise the winners at the official commemoration on Feb. 22,” Annetta wrote.

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Awards are to be bestowed in three categories: People, Places and Products. Subcategories in People accommodate Ambassador, Industrial Designer, Architect, Interior Designer, Emerging Designer, Vanguard and Female Designer.

In the Places category, prices will be awarded for Adaptive Reuse, Hospitality Spaces (Hotels, Dining), Commercial Spaces, Residential Active (Interiors, Compact), Cultural, Arts and Educational Spaces and Burghal Redevelopment.

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Meanwhile, the Products class included subcategories Accessories, Lighting, Furniture and Textile.

Read also: Countdown Bintaro Architectonics District Festival opens chat amid designers, public

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Among the finalists, Indonesia is represented by artist Andra Matin in the People category, Studio Air Putih with its Batubata appointment in the Commercial Places subcategory and Budi Pradono Architects with its Sanga Mandala House in Residential Active – interiors.

Following the awards presentation, the annual is slated to authority a alternation of talks on architectonics blue-blooded Architectonics Anthology Dialogues on Feb. 23, featuring its team, a console of board and several nominees of the countdown awards.

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Proceeds of admission sales will be donated to the Architectonics Anthology fund, a alms that provides scholarships for architectonics acceptance at The University of Hong Kong and the Savannah College of Art and Design. (mut)

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[365footballorg-blog]

Playing abroad - what is it like for an England star and could men's team benefit?

Toni Duggan is a rarity among England internationals.

The striker is one of a handful of players in the senior England set-up – men’s or women’s – to be playing overseas, having made the decision to leave Manchester City for Barcelona last season.[1]

The forward, who has 58 caps, the latest of them in the 1-1 friendly draw with Australia on Tuesday, wanted to challenge herself technically, tactically and mentally, leaving behind the safer environment of the Women’s Super League, where she was a star name and had won everything the English game had to offer.

So what has the 27-year-old learned from her experience, and what could her male counterparts (none of Gareth Southgate’s World Cup squad played outside the Premier League) learn from moving overseas?

13-year-old Sheyla Diaz named in World Cup qualifying squad[2]

Study finds 84% interest in women’s sport[3]

‘Football in England was becoming too repetitive’

As Duggan relaxes on a sunny afternoon at Barcelona’s spacious training ground, a few miles outside the city centre, it is interesting to hear her say she never planned to play abroad.

After breaking into Everton’s first team at 16 and subsequently joining Manchester City to win honours galore and become an international regular, she was perfectly prepared to stay in England for the rest of her career.

Gradually, however, something changed, and she started to think further afield.

“When I was younger I never thought I’d be brave enough to go and play abroad,” Duggan says.

“I loved playing in England. But after a few years I didn’t find it challenging enough. I wouldn’t say I was bored, but it was becoming too repetitive – playing with and against the same players year after year.

“The time was right for a change. I wanted to take my career and my life to the next step, learn a new style of play and prove myself in a new environment where I was starting from scratch. I wanted a new spark.”

Many of Europe’s biggest clubs came calling. Duggan chose Barcelona, but she had no idea what lay in store.

‘I didn’t speak any Spanish, I could never be relaxed’

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Even though she was given a warm welcome by her new team-mates and plenty of behind-the-scenes assistance from the club, Duggan found her first few months in Spain tough.

“It was so difficult, partly because of the language,” she recalls. “I didn’t speak any Spanish when I arrived, and I was so tired when I came home from training sessions, not only because of the football but also because of the language.

“Even when I was eating breakfast before training or getting changed in the dressing room, I always had to be listening and concentrating, just to work out what was going on. I could never be relaxed.”

On the pitch, it wasn’t any easier. The training methods and style of play at Barcelona were far removed from anything Duggan had experienced in England, and it took time to adjust.

“It was frustrating but I had challenged myself so I wasn’t going to throw in the towel. And I was having an amazing time – I was loving it even though it was really difficult.

“I was eager to learn, so I couldn’t wait for the next training session because I wanted to be better and understand more. I had to learn how things work around the club – the rules and the standards, what’s expected of us. You just have to adapt.”

And the process of adaptation was even more difficult on the pitch than off it.

A higher standard and raised expectations

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As soon as she started training with her new team-mates at Barcelona, Duggan was struck by one thing: the ease with which every single player could control the ball.

“They’re all so good technically,” she enthuses. “The standard is far superior to England.

“At Manchester City we used to do rondos [a training drill where players form a circle and pass the ball while others in the middle try to dispossess them] and we’d be lucky to reach 10 passes. But you come here and when you’re in the middle it’s like being in a washing machine, the ball just goes around and around!”

Duggan soon realised there was a simple explanation for that greater level of technical ability: practice, practice, practice.

“They’ve been learning technique since they were babies,” she says. “That’s their focus and emphasis. For example, in England the day after a game is usually a day off or some gentle warm-downs, but in Spain we come in and do really intense passing drills and technical work.

“For players here, losing the ball is the worst thing you can do. They get so angry with themselves. In England if you receive a bad pass and you lose possession, you’ll blame the pass. Over here, the pass can come at your throat or your knees and everyone still expects to control it instantly.”

‘Headless chickens’ in England, mentally challenging in Spain

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Higher levels of technical ability were not the only difference Duggan noticed after moving from England to Spain, because she was also plunged into a new world in terms of the mental aspects of the sport.

“The game here is so tactical,” she says. “We always have to keep possession, draw in the opposition to create space, and a lot of our focus during the week is tactical.

“It’s very position-specific. We don’t do any possession drills without also thinking about positioning. In England, you might have a possession game of six v six and it’s like headless chickens, people running around everywhere just trying to keep the ball and be strong in tackles.

“But in Spain, you always stay in your position. You’re still in your shape, for every drill. In England you might think about team shape and how you’re going to press one or two days before a game, but here every single drill is about shape and tactical thinking.

“Sometimes that can slow down the training, and in England the sessions are more physically intense, but I’ve learned that you have to play with your head. Forget the running – your head has to be quicker than your legs.”

After spending a year with Barca, the new mental demands she has encountered have also encouraged Duggan to analyse her performances in a more nuanced manner.

“I think about the game differently,” she says. “I watch a lot more video than I used to. It’s like studying because I’m trying to learn a new way of playing, and I’m looking out for different things.

“In the past I’d look at whether I was creating chances, or if I could have got my shot off quicker. Now I’m looking at my positioning, where I should be to help the team. It’s much less ball orientated, and much more about where I am on the field and how my positioning is helping another player.”

Could Sancho be a trailblazer in the men’s game?

Media playback is not supported on this device

After everything she has experienced in the past 15 months, Duggan firmly believes she has significantly improved as a player since joining Barcelona, and that other English players would benefit from making a similar move.

“I’m a better player now,” she says. “I’ve come on technically, I’m more relaxed on the ball, more composed with possession, and I see different pictures positionally.

“I’d recommend it to anyone. Sometimes English players struggle to adapt to different styles of play, and coming abroad forces you to do that because you have no choice – you have to adapt.”

Young female players may be inspired to follow in the footsteps of Duggan and fellow England internationals Lucy Bronze and Isobel Christiansen, who play for European champions Lyon.

And in the men’s game, Duggan believes the rapid progress being enjoyed by Jadon Sancho[4] at Borussia Dortmund could prove to be a game-changer in the next few years.

London-born Sancho came through the youth ranks at Watford and Manchester City before moving to Dortmund in 2017. The 18-year-old made 12 Bundesliga appearances last season but has really caught the eye in the current campaign, starting in the Champions League victory over Club Brugge, signing a new four-year contract earlier this month and earning a call-up to the full England squad.

“Seeing one person make that transition can encourage others to do the same,” says Duggan. “And I think the younger generation are looking at Jadon Sancho and thinking: ‘I could do that.’ There are so many clubs out there.”

References

^ decision to leave Manchester City for Barcelona last season. (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ 13-year-old Sheyla Diaz named in World Cup qualifying squad (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Study finds 84% interest in women’s sport (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ rapid progress being enjoyed by Jadon Sancho (www.bbc.co.uk)

BBC Sport – Football

Playing abroad – what is it like for an England star and could men's team benefit? was originally published on 365 Football

[micaramel]

Artist: Lena Henke

Venue: Emanuel Layr, Vienna

Exhibition Title: THEMOVE

Date: May 15 – June 30, 2018

Click here to view slideshow

Full gallery of images, press release and link available after the jump.

Images:

Images courtesy of Emanuel Layr, Vienna

Press Release:

In THEMOVE, Lena Henke turns outside in and inside out. Urban space merges with the female body and New York street signs lead the way through the artist’s inner life. The gallery space becomes a psycho-geographic projection, scaling the personal into a cityscape. In a life-size self-portrait, Henke poses like a pin-up, holding a photo of New York’s signature phallic high-rise – the Freedom Tower – in front of her crotch. The motif of the pin-up recurs in the large bronze gate that heralds the visitor’s path through the exhibition, it’s curvy green and strawberry contours evoking the figures of one of Tomi Ungerer’s adult cartoons. OURPORCELAINTHOUGHTS. INNERCIRCLE meets STEELPATTERN.

Henke displays vulnerability and intimacy on a monumental scale. Combining deeply personal experiences with forms abstracted from the history of art and architecture, she radically appropriates the past to build narratives that empower rather than suppress. Henke intersects iconic New York architecture with French cartoons, the legacy of Feminist body artists like Hannah Wilke with souvenir T-shirts, New York’s Depression-era mafia wives with psychoanalysis. Rather than fetishizing these ‘idols’ and heroines, they are materials used by Henke to craft her own story. It is about adaptions, appropriations, borrowing, recycling, dissimulating, re-shaping, referencing, lightly or / and with a crowbar, all to form your own history, something (…) of your own, the text of your biography, writes Jutta Koether. NOTMYLIONS crossed with NOTMYCIRCUS. MYIRONFEELINGS clash with YOURCLAYBODY.

Henke uses her own body and biography as both subject and material to critically rethink how masculinity embeds a lattice of subjugation into the built world. With exhibitions and projects like Geburt & Familie (White Flag Projects, St. Louis, 2013), Yes, I’m pregnant (Kunststiftung NRW / Skulpturenmuseum Glaskasten Marl, 2014) and An Idea of Late German Sculpture; To the People of New York (Kunsthalle Zürich, 2018) Henke has created her own dense cosmos of autobiographical and art historical references that imbricate sculpture, intimacy and feminism. In her cosmos, multilayered narrations become distorted, details are projected into distant horizons, micro and macro perspectives interlace, melt into each other, mingle and alloy. THEMOVE continues to explore how the grammar of dominant, male narratives of art can be denaturalized by writing the artist’s self into the picture. We cannot gaze upon the phallic Freedom Tower in her crotch without meeting the eyes of the artist with her phone camera. Surrealist Leonora Carrington wrote: The task of the right eye is to peer into the telescope, while the left eye peers into the microscope.

– Stephanie Seidel

Link: Lena Henke at Emanuel Layr

Contemporary Art Daily is produced by Contemporary Art Group, a not-for-profit organization. We rely on our audience to help fund the publication of exhibitions that show up in this RSS feed. Please consider supporting us by making a donation today.

from Contemporary Art Daily http://bit.ly/2JOKU02

[halsteadproperty]

6 Ways To Transform Your Living Space Without Actually Renovating 

by Sheila Kim

Whether you own a townhouse or rent a studio, you want to feel at home, surrounded by decor and furnishings suited to your tastes. If budget constraints or lease restrictions prevent you from shaping the home you want, consider these cost-effective DIY enhancements.

Of course, if you rent, you should always get your landlord’s blessing to avoid losing your security deposit. But as these changes are cosmetic in nature, it shouldn’t be difficult to obtain.

6. Rethink Wall Colors

The easiest (and most obvious) way to drastically change the look and feel of a home is by repainting one or more walls in a new hue. If you have a room with crown or picture molding, chair railing, or wainscoting, even better: Painting these to match the walls unifies the space and can heighten textural contrast, while painting the details in a contrasting color results in some period-inspired character.

“For painted accent walls, we like to choose walls that are the main focal point in the room, such as the one behind your bed,” says Cristina Casanas-Judd, partner at Me & General Design. “Or you can carve a nook within a room by using paint or wallpaper in a corner of the room or an alcove.”

For some inspiration, look to the trends and forecasts the leading residential paint brands release annually, such as Sherwin-Williams’ Colormix Forecast 2018, which is presented as different color families as opposed to a single “it” color. Benjamin Moore declared Caliente AF-290 — a hot, deep red — the 2018 Color of the Year, alongside complementing palettes. Behr unveiled its 2018 Color of the Year, a blue-green called In The Moment, and related tints, many of which possess a woodland-esque feel.

Interior designer Jennifer Levy of CAVdesign advises, “I don’t believe in a one-size-fits-all solution when it comes to paint color. So much depends on the actual architecture and the light in the space itself.” And for anyone wondering about dark versus light hues, she adds, “I think that dark colors do tend to make a room look smaller; they tend to come in towards you. But they can create a warmth and coziness in a space as well.”

Before you paint an entire wall, pick up oversized paint chips or sample jars and paint a section within the room where you intend to use that color to see it in context and how the light in that space affects it.

5. Add Pattern or Art

Alternatively, make a bold statement with wallpaper. This treatment used to get a bad rap due to its laborious installation, designs that go out of style, and wall damage from removal, but new lines are changing the game with easy-to-remove, temporary papers.

Slightly transparent and digitally printed, Brooklyn-based Flavor Paper‘s EZ Papes line features a prepasted ground that’s water activated when you’re ready to hang. When you tire of the design, it’s just as easy to remove it, once again using water.

The 24-inch-wide, Class A fire-rated papers are mold and mildew resistant and ecofriendly, and come in a choice of 12 whimsical patterns, including an adaptation of Andy Warhol’s Queen Elizabeth portrait and an original Brooklyn-themed artwork — called “Brownstoner,” of course — by local illustrator Ian Ferguson. Just remember that because this series is slightly transparent, you’ll want to be sure the wall you’re pasting it onto is a solid, light color.

Another brand of easy-to-remove wall coverings is Tempaper, a lead-, phthalate-, and VOC-free wallpaper whose water-based inks and adhesives enable easy removal and even repositioning. However, for best results it should be used on a surface primed with eggshell, semi-gloss, or satin paint. Like Flavor Paper, Tempaper has a selection of handsome and cheeky designs such as a pink-and-gold take on camouflage and designer Cynthia Rowley’s cherry blossom graphic on a silver ground.

“We love to install wallpaper in bathrooms,” says General Judd, the other half of Me & General Design. “This is where you can go as bold as you want. Unlike one might think, wallpapers can be super durable and today there are numerous ones with texture.”

4. Swap the Lighting

Some homes have charming period fixtures that give them character, while others have builder-standard eyesores such as flush-mount ceiling fixtures that resemble female anatomy. Changing a hardwired fixture isn’t as challenging as it looks, as long as the wiring is in good condition, but we recommend hiring an electrician or handyman to do the deed for safety and liability reasons.

When shopping for a replacement wall sconce, ceiling lamp, pendant or chandelier, keep in mind the lamp’s canopy or base plate should ideally cover the opening where the old fixture was installed. Otherwise, you’ll need to do some extra filling, spackling and painting to cover what’s left of the old opening.

Some great, reasonably priced online retailers include AllModern and Lamps Plus. Renters will probably want to hold onto the old fixture to restore before moving (and take the new one with you).

Plug-in fixtures can do wonders in dark corners and rooms where hardwiring doesn’t exist. Crate & Barrel’s CB2 brand is among several retailers who carry attractive plug-in fixtures such as cloth-drum pendants for hanging over a dining table and swing-arm wall sconces for reading in bed. These will usually have decorative cloth cords that are made to be seen and long enough to install just about anywhere.

3. Spruce Up the Cabinetry

Try giving existing kitchen cabinets a facelift if they look dowdy but are otherwise sturdy and in good condition. There are two ways to go about doing this: painting and swapping hardware. The former is more involved and therefore will be time consuming, but can radically upgrade the look of your kitchen if done right.

“If it’s a rental and you get permission from your landlord to repaint, prepare the cabinets by priming with something like Zinsser Bulls Eye 1-2-3, which is specifically made for repainting slicker surfaces,” says Levy. Also, “make sure they’re super clean and degreased because that will be the thing that keeps the paint from adhering.” Note that there are several steps to take before any of this, however, such as removing doors and hardware and light sanding.

Upgrading cabinet hardware is relatively effortless. Think of it as jewelry for the kitchen: Perhaps you want to go from ornate turned pulls to minimalist bars, or from a bright and polished chrome to on-trend brushed bronze or black.

Simple knobs are typically universal in screw size so simply unscrew the old and insert the new in the same spot.

With handles and pulls, you’ll need to remove the old ones and then measure the distance between their screw holes. If you want to avoid drilling and filling holes, find pulls that have the same distance for an easy swap.

Options are abundant and varied in price, from budget-friendly knobs and pulls in big box stores such as IKEA to affordable designer products from Top Knobs and Belwith Keeler.

2. Refresh the Backsplash

There’s a demolition-free trick to enhancing simple white-tile backsplashes in kitchens or bathrooms. Jennifer Levy shares, “MIBO makes this thing called tile tattoos. If you have a basic backsplash, you can apply these little tile decals and they’re really, really cute — not tacky.”

Available in a few mod patterns and colorways, the vinyl decals are designed for application on 15-centimeter-square tiles and come in packs of eight. They’re waterproof once applied, but are also easily removable.

Some companies such as Smart Tiles make a peel-and-stick backsplash product for vertical surfaces. Smart Tile’s coverings sport a gel layer that gives the faux-tile-and-mosaic graphics a dimensional effect.

You should apply them only to smooth, painted surfaces as they don’t stay adhered to textured or imperfect walls. Be forewarned, though, that removing Smart Tiles after use can damage the paint job.

1. Indulge in a Fancy Showerhead

You might not be able to retile your 1970s bathroom, but you can at least splurge on a nicer, newer showerhead that’s free of lime scale, looks more high end, and boasts bells and whistles such as massage jet–like sprays.

Assuming the existing showerhead has a basic fixed wall arm, you can find a wide range of multi-spray showerheads that will fit the arm. Many now offer multiple sprays to suit each user.

Some of these are handheld models, which are convenient not just for bathing but also for cleaning the shower or tub walls. Hansgrohe’s Raindance Select E is a handsome choice that offers three spray modes easily changed by pressing a central “select” button.

Bathers with limited mobility might consider Moen’s Attract Magnetix handheld showers, which uses a strong magnet to mount the head back onto the arm without the strain of reaching up and over the holster.

Those who like to take their NPR podcasts or favorite playlists into the shower can add a waterproof speaker — but combining audio and shower in one is even better as it affords a cleaner, clutter-free look. Kohler’s Moxie showerhead has a built-in Bluetooth speaker that magnetically attaches at the head’s center.

Recharge the speaker simply via USB cable. Previously this product was available in chrome with an off-white face and speaker, but more recently Kohler launched the speakers with color on the rear to inject just a tiny pop of contrasting color when attached to the showerheads.

Finally, if you can take on only one of the above projects, Jennifer Levy has advice for you: “What is that one thing you see every day that is really bothering you? Ask yourself that question and then focus on getting that thing done.”

Source: Brownstoner

[meltingalphabet]

I’m turning into my mother

I’m turning into my mother.

Since I turned 20, it’s been happening more and more. I’ll open my mouth and an idiom I’ve heard my mother use time and time again will spill out. I’ll watch a movie and become aghast at the provocative nature of the female protagonist. I’ll grimace when I notice my friend isn’t wearing a slip under her hinting-at-sheer skirt. My friends laugh at the naturalness of the situation, thinking I’m just growing older, adapting the long-held traditions and thoughts of my overbearing mother. The mother who scolds me for frowning, because it’ll ruin my smooth skin, or for using the wrong moisturizer or makeup, which makes me break out, or for eating pizza, because it’ll make me fat.

Thursday was my 21st birthday. In true newly legal status, my friends and I went out bar hopping on a mission from the gods to get more drunk than any newly 21 year old before us. 

I woke up the next morning ill. My head pounding against my skull like a fetus kicking the lining of it’s mother’s uterus. I felt simultaneously nauseous, exhausted, and like I had to take a massive shit. I ran into the bathroom, hoping I could relieve at least one symptom. 

Thirty minutes later, I rinsed my face with cool water, relishing the sensation on my clammy skin. I looked up into the mirror and saw her. My mother. It wasn’t that I saw her face in the mirror instead of mine. I saw her in my face. The crook of my mouth forming her always present half-smile, the way my eyes were looking up while my head was tilted slightly downward towards the sink, the way my nose was scrunched, the lines in my forehead that met in the middle. They weren’t mine, but they weren’t foreign. I knew those lines, that scrunch, that look, that smile. It was my mother’s. I wasn’t adapting the familiar words and expressions and ideals I was taught through living with the woman for 18 years, I was her. For a split second, I couldn’t recognize myself in my own features.

I called her then, but she didn’t answer, her phone drifting lazily into voicemail. I left a quick message and hung up, then called my boss and told her I was taking a sick day. I forced down some orange juice, and went back to bed, to forget about the incident.

That is, until this morning, when I woke up from the first nightmare I’ve had since I was a child. 

I was me, but also I wasn’t. I woke up in a different bedroom, a room covered in posters and filled with knick-knacks, trophies, and photos that weren’t mine. A sloppy stack of albums lay in the corner along with discarded clothes and a white bra. I recognized most of the people in the posters: there was a young Madonna in black lace, Michael Jackson with his fedora covering most of his face, a white gloved hand on top, and the two curly haired men from Tears for Fears whose names I don’t know.

I lifted the covers and placed my feet on the faded pink carpet. There were noises coming from outside the bedroom door, and I followed them, the carpet rough but not unpleasant against my bare feet. There was a full length mirror leaning against the wall, and I stopped to look at myself. I looked to be in my early twenties, wearing a long white cotton nightgown with yellow flowers embroidered along the high neckline. My face was familiar, but also distant. Like another version of me. Like when I looked into the mirror yesterday, after my 21st birthday. The chin was soft, like mine, but the blue of my irises was a shade or two lighter, and the almond shape of my eyes was wider, the eyelashes shorter and lighter. My brown hair was cut with thick straight bangs, my frizzy wavy hair shoulder length when I usually wear it much longer. My eyes skittered downwards briefly and I realized with jealous annoyance that my breasts were much larger than in reality.

A loud bang sounded outside the bedroom, and I opened the door hesitantly. There was a faint acidic chemical smell in the air of the hallway. I followed the peculiar smell to a closed door, and opened it. 

I was in another bedroom, much more bare than the one I woke up in. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor was a woman in her mid-forties. Her brown hair was short, ending right below her ears and she wore a black dress, the velvet sleeves flowing down her arms, covering almost every inch of her porcelain skin. She looked up at me, her blue eyes twinkling, her mouth set in a small, crooked half smile.

I recognized the woman from old photographs in withered albums in my mother’s attic. It was my grandmother. She sat in a white circle, spray painted onto the carpet, the same faded pink fibers matted together in the sticky white residue. But it wasn’t just a circle. It was a pentagram, a star with too many point for my sleepy, bewildered mind to comprehend and count. It was ornate, swirls and shapes extending from each point, filling the room. Inside the circle in front of her was a large bronze bowl, filled with something that appeared to be sand or dirt. 

The smile stayed on her lips, only a whisper of pleasure, as she lifted her hand, an ornate purple bottle between her fingers, and poured a clear liquid into the bowl. The air around us became thick with what I can only describe as an electric charge, sending my hair on end, threatening to crack violently and kill us both. My feet instinctively began to shuffle back towards the door when something struck my chest with a heavy force, knocking me backwards.

I closed my eyes, and winced in pain, tears forming on the edge of my eyelids. It felt as if there was a heavy weight against my chest. I opened my eyes and tried to right myself, but I couldn’t under the force. The room began to spin around me and I closed my eyes to avoid feeling nauseous. 

After a few minutes, the sensation dissipated, and I looked up. I blinked as my eyes focused on the figure of my grandmother in front of me. Wait, no. It was me. The me I had woken as. I looked down, my body clad in black velvet. I looked up, heart pounding, as the dream me reached up to the top of the dark dresser against the wall, and came back with a knife. She crawled towards me, one knee dragging through the carpet, then the other. 

I tried to crawl back away from her, from me, but I was stopped by the bed. The thought of getting around her and running to the door rose in my mind, but too slowly. She was above me, her hand raised, the knife blade shining threateningly. I looked from the knife to her, the dream me, and as our eyes locked, her face twisted.

Twisted into a crooked half-smile.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart racing. I was relieved for a moment that it was just a dream until my doorbell rang. I walked to the front door of my apartment in my sweatpants and an old t-shirt, and looked through the peephole. There, standing in the hallway, was my mother. My stomach dropped.

“Sweetheart?” She called, pressing her eye close to the peephole as if it were two-way. “Are you there? You sounded ill on the phone yesterday. I tried to call back and I got worried when you didn’t answer!”

She stood back from the door, removing her eye from the peephole, and all I could see was that smile.