#But yeah his criticism and art is really fascinating to me to compare

[maxwell-grant]

OK, I know this will probably be painful, and I may be a bad mutual for asking but...would you be willing to identify what, in your opinion are the bottom five worst Shadow adaptations, and give a detailed breakdown of why they were so lousy?

Oh christ, okay. I don't think you're gonna get as much of a detailed breakdown for these compared to some of the others, because I take more issue with adaptations that do have good qualities but also big or deep problems to talk about.

For example, I can't include Garth Ennis's Shadow in this list because the comic has a lot of strong points to it, despite a deeply, deeply detestable take on The Shadow's character, where as the rest of the Dynamite run doesn't reach neither the lows or highs of his run. Likewise, Andy Helfer's run has a couple or a couple dozen moments every issue that make me want to tear something to shreds in frustration, but it's also at many points a really good comic with great art and some occasionally very inspired writing. Really, I'd just be repeating myself talking about what I hate in those.

But, fine, let's list some of the others.

I think I'm just gonna have to get the elephant in the room out of the way here, and address that I won't be including Si Spurrier's 2017 Dynamite mini in this list, and I think at least some of you might be angry it's not Number 1 by default. I'm doing this because I intend to one day really revisit it, think about it and it's reception and what it was trying to do, and talk about it on it's own, now that it's been 5 years and everyone has moved on and we can maybe talk about it without kneejerk hatred driving everyone nuts (your mileage may vary on how warranted it was).

I'm also not going to be talking about James Patterson's new novel, because I haven't read it. It seems to be considered a forgettable potboiler by mainstream critics and a resounding failure by everyone who likes the character whether they've read the book or not, and frankly I don't have it in me to learn what the fuzz was about anytime soon, I got my hands way too full as is.

And I won't be including the Batman x Shadow crossovers here, because again, they do have a lot of virtues that put them far ahead of some of the really worst Shadow media, and I've talked enough about how badly I think they mangled The Shadow, which is really the big problem I have with them (well, that and Tim Sale blatantly copying a Michael Kaluta cover, that was really shitty). I don't really hate them anymore, I just get tired and frustrated thinking about parts of them, I said my piece as is. Really, my frustration over this comic is what inspired me to start writing about The Shadow here, so I guess in a way I do owe it at least that much.

5: Archie Comics's Shadow

I think some of you might be wondering why this isn't ranked higher, but to be honest, I don't actually harbor any hatred towards this. I mean, I have to include it, but I find it kinda silly that some people even today actually care about the existence of this comic enough to hate it.

For fans back then? Oh yeah, obviously, but this dropped to such instantaneous backlash that it never really got to live past 6 issues. Really, everything wrong about it can be understood immediately from the covers, and I've actually read the comic in it's entirety to see if there was anything worth taking. I found only a couple of things of note but, no, this really is just a painfully mediocre superhero comic that happens to have a couple of Shadow names in it. If anything, it gets too much credit.

The actual contents of what it is are never going to justify it's reputation, but the existence of it and the disproportionate response to it is the funniest and most enduring legacy it could ever ask for. This whole comic is The Shadow's version of Spongebob's embarassing Christmas photo.

4: David Liss's The Shadow Now

This is another "The Shadow as an immortal in modern times" comic and I think you may have noticed the pattern with those by now. I may revisit this eventually and I do have some moments from it saved for reference, but overall: It sucks, and it doesn't even suck in a way that lets me talk much about it, it's a diet version of Chaykin's Shadow. If Archie's Shadow is a generic mediocre superhero comic wearing The Shadow's name, this is a generic crime story playing beats from movie. The Shadow is an asshole and not even a grandiose or sinister one, he just feels like a sleazy douche in a costume. The art is a 50/50 coin toss between appropriately moody and "Google images with a filter on them", I don't remember anything about the plot other than Khan had a bomb again and he had a daughter, and there were new versions of the agents and the Harry stand-in turned evil and Lamont shacked up with Margo's descendant which, uh, no. I don't really hate this but I really have nothing nice to say about this comic other than Colton Worley's art is nice sometimes. I can't really muster anything else to say here.

3: Invisible Avenger

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZ...

...uuh, wha-

Yeah, I remember nothing about this one other than it's painfully boring and nothing about it, nothing at all, works in the slightest and I drift off to sleep even now trying to give this a rewatch. To be honest pretty much every other Shadow serial not starred by Victor Jory sucks and I don't really have anything to say about them, this one is just the worst of the lot. I dearly wish there was a good Shadow tv series but, if it was going to be like this pilot? Good riddance.

2: Harlan Ellison's The New York Review of Bird

This isn't really a Shadow story as much as it's a Harlan Ellison story that happens to feature The Shadow, but man am I glad that Ellison's "Dragon Shadows" was canned, because holy shit what a goddamn nightmare Harlan Ellison writing The Shadow for real could have been, going purely by the one time he ever touched the character. New York Review of Bird is a purely farcical parody story that wears real, real thin even before "Uncle Kent" shows up, and we get to see in it what is by far the most detestable and irredeemable take on The Shadow ever put on print, and not even in a critique or deconstructive way or anything that could be remotely worth discussing.

I don't hold any particular affection for Harlan Ellison and his writing (despite liking some of it) and I've come to notice the major red flag that is finding someone who looks up to Harlan Ellison in any capacity as a person, and this story in particular really feels like Ellison aggressively trying to channel his jackass tendencies through every line, just him being nasty because he built a personal brand on being nasty. The only reason this isn't Number One is because it's a very short story that saw zero influence or reputation, and thus it only exists as a brief mention in The Shadow wiki, and a brief mention is all it really calls for.

1: Howard Chaykin's Blood & Judgment

I'm guessing most of you already knew this one was in the top spot before I started writing.

I would actually rather not write a big piece on Blood & Judgment, because I think (or at least I hope) it's influence on The Shadow has waned a lot over the years and I would prefer to draw it the least amount of attention possible, but if I HAVE to talk about this, I guess I'd rather just vomit this out of my circuits now instead of giving it it's own post.

I would prefer to use a less unpleasant image on my blog, but if I'm going to talk about this comic, there's no image to better convey it than this drawing of macho asshole Cranston holding a sexualized mannequin at gunpoint. By leaps and bounds, Blood & Judgment is the most misogynistic Shadow story I've ever read. It's ironic that Chaykin justified the rampant misogyny he gave The Shadow with the idea that this is just a man from the 30s would act like, when he admits in the same breath that he never even touched the stories, and he wrote a story more sexist and demeaning to it's female characters than anything, literally anything, written in the Shadow pulps. It's almost impressive even.

I'll paste some segments from Randy Raynaldo's review

In Flagg, he intended to present his own point of view on American society while keeping his work tongue in cheek and acessible. But this vision dimmed, and Flagg had become a vehicle by which Chaykin could play out fetishes and portray gratuitous and stylish violence.

In The Shadow, stripped of the political and social veneer which was supposed to make Flagg unique, Chaykin's sensibilities and excesses become disturbingly apparent. For all of his liberal posturing, Chaykin's work demonstrates zero difference from the same kind of mentality exploited and made popular by similarly violent popular culture icons like Dirty Harry and Death Wish.

More than half a dozen individuals are indiscriminately and violently murdered in the first issue. Although the victims are characters who played major roles in the myth of The Shadow, we feel little sympathy for them, even for those of us who knew these characters at the outset. Who dies is unimportant, it's how they die that is the fascination.

Chaykin uses sexual decadence as a means by which to establish villains, and undercuts this device by making the protagonists as promiscuous as the villains. For all of Chaykin's seemingly liberal leanings, he demonstrates very little sensitivity in his portrayal of women.

Because everything works on rules of three, this comic also follows the pattern with other works mentioned here, as this isn't Howard Chaykin writing The Shadow: it's The Shadow reimagined as a Howard Chaykin character. He looks and acts exactly like Reuben Flagg and the typical macho protagonist of Chaykin's other works, he's a cynical sleaze with an entirely new origin who half-assedly dons a garb to machine gun people, and I already wrote a separate piece on why the machineguns are kind of emblematic of everything wrong with this take.

I understand that Chaykin has, or used to have, a big following of sorts, and I've tried to wrap my head around this for years, but I genuinely still don't get why Shadow fans stomach this comic unless they happen to be Chaykin fans first and foremost, I really don't. Everything, fucking everything Shadow fans hate about modern depictions of the character can be traced right back to this. The parts that stuck and changed the character for the worse, like him being defined as an immortal, bloodthirsty warmonger who got all his skills and powers from a magic city in Tibet, or Lamont Cranston being a coward who fears and hates the Shadow, or his agents being expendable slaves, stuff that has been ingrained into the mythos through this and the Alec Baldwin movie and other comics, to the point that people now think of it as the norm, that it's the baseline of what The Shadow is, and I hate it, I genuinely fucking hate it,

I hate it so much that it's a big part of the reason why I created this blog and why I want so badly to get to write The Shadow, because I plainly couldn't stand not having ways to tell people that this is all wrong, that this is actively shooting down the character's odds for success, and that they are missing out on something really great, because the well has been tainted with garbage that won't go away and everytime I read the words Shambala in a Shadow comic, even an otherwise good or great one, I get just a wee bit cross.

The only semi-redeeming aspects I can think of for this comic is one or two cool moments, like when The Shadow hijacks a concert using his Devil's Whisper or when he tames dogs with a stare. Just breadcrumbs of "not garbage" amidst an ocean of anything but. I hate that talking about why I hate this comic in-length can almost feel like I'm still enticing people to check it out of curiosity, but if you wanna do that, fine, just know this: The worst part of Blood & Judgment, even if you don't care at all about what it did to The Shadow, is that it's boring.

It is a deeply boring comic. If you like Howard Chaykin to begin with, you'll probably like this okay (although even Chaykin fans told me that this is his weakest work and that even he seems to agree). If you don't, I plain don't see what you could get out of this.

The comic itself is just nothing. It's the comic book equivalent of a pre-schooler trying to get a reaction by swearing. It has nothing whatsoever other than half-assed attempts at shock value. The plot isn't there, the ideas are stale, the dialogue is needlessly oblique and comprised entirely of unfinished sentences, interrupted conversations and one-liners without build-up. The characters are all unlikable and uninteresting stooges with no personality, or joyless cartoons. There's no heart or emotion or logic, and it isn't even funny enough to succeed as just an outrageous exercise in 80s excess. There's nothing in here.

I get "why" it was popular enough at the time, a rising star creator penning a modern revival of an old character based on controversy that pissed off the old fans, it's an old story that still gets repeated today. But manufactured controversy is not a replacement for storytelling and it rarely ever exists to benefit the people who actually want to enjoy the stories, it only benefits those for the crude benefit of those who want to sell you something out of the controversy.

I guess they got their money's worth back then.

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

Phew, okay, I did it, I finally vomited out a piece on Blood & Judgment and some others, allright, let's put this piece of negativity behind us now.

[thatfunkyopossum]

I just read the ask response regarding clonecest, and I'd be really interested to hear your take on the fetishization of clones re clonecest/other forms of fic deemed 'problematic', compared to say something like your fat tiddy Fox/dumptruck ass Bly artwork. It seems a bit hypocritical to me. To be clear, I think the anti-wank around shipping clones is entirely ridiculous and actively harmful in many ways, but it's frustrating to read commentary that often seems to be attempting to support this rhetoric when it suits.

Well, I’m not gonna lie I don’t really know how to engage with this. I almost feel like I’m expected to defend fat tiddy fox as something that has absolutely no possibility of being problematic but like? Idk i’m a white dude I’m not an authority on this stuff. I can’t draw the line on where fetishization of clones starts and ends because I’m seriously unqualified to do so in anyone’s work, including mine. This is long, so it’ll be under a cut.

I honestly really never thought about any fetishistic implications when I made fat tiddy fox. That doesn’t mean that FTF wasn’t fetishistic, just that I literally never even considered it at the time. If I had, I probably wouldn’t have done some of the stuff that I did. I kinda want to talk about the timeline though? Not as a defense just kinda like...as a discussion of what factually went down.

So, FTF was actually a really short, and very chaotic event. It mostly happened over the course of three days and it absolutely exploded in popularity spreading all across the fandom, outside of tumblr, and even made its way onto some star wars forums that one of my followers dads was on. Now, a quick and important fact about me is that I absolutely thrive off of making people happy and if I’m making people happy then that’s really the only thing I care about in that moment. As such, when I saw the delight with which people reacted to FTF I leaned in hard.

It was about like.... 99.9% Joke? The original art “fox’s fat tits” that was made that lead to the whole thing was made to be! I drew fox, and then I drew him again after people commented on the size of his chest because 1) i remembered downsizing his pecs while i was drawing them in the very first art and 2) I... wanted to make those two people who commented smile. Didn’t remotely think about the implications of any of it, I honest to god just wanted those two folks who left tiny little comments to be a little extra cheered up.

Then I got the honkers anon, drew the space hooters shirt art because i thought it was funny, and everything got rolling REAL quick from there. People seemed to be happy, so I engaged a lot. A lot of people engaged really inappropriately, but like.. I’m a white dude and I enjoy attention and happiness and did not think about how gross some of the things people were saying were and I did unfortunately encourage a lot of that. I just thought of the delight these people were experiencing, and i wanted them to be happy. Especially after a lot of folks commented and sent me asks saying that it was the first thing to make them really feel happy and excited since quarantine had started.

For me, it was all just about pleasing other people and I mostly thought of all of it as a big joke. I really don’t know if I fetishize the clones or not, and I really hope I don’t. I’m a trans man who loves men and thinks the male body is something really beautiful. For some reason, something about the clones as people and their stories really grips me and I’ve loved them for basically as long as I can remember. When I was a little kid AotC was my favorite star wars movie, and the parts with kamino and the troopers were my favorite. When I watched the clone wars (only becoming aware of it well after it was canceled) I seriously fell in love with their stories and them as individuals. I only draw clones because they’re the only characters in star wars that I really care about. They’re the whole damn reason i LOVE star wars at all!

Something about their circumstances and the lives they must lead and the ways that they must exist just absolutely has always had me wanting to know more. I don’t care about jedi or smugglers or anything like that I literally only am interested in this one group of people and the way they change. I’m fascinated by the ordinary in extraordinary circumstances, and what is more ordinary in extraordinary circumstances than the life of a single clone, identical to millions of others in every way but who he is as a person?

I draw clones nigh on exclusively because I’m fascinated by them. I draw them soft and sweet because that’s what I like to draw. I also draw them beautiful and sensual because men are to me, and I’m so tired of men only being allowed to be gruff and jagged. I don’t know if those things all add up to fetishization, but they might. I am not above criticism!

Some time ago I changed the title of my blog from something about FTF to what it is now, and like... yeah. I’m trying to do better. I want to be better. All I want more than anything in the world is to make people happy, and what I want the least is to hurt others. If the work I’ve done in the past is offensive, I’m genuinely sorry. I don’t know what to say other than that.

[ciircularr]

have u ever read ten? or other works of fkmt? and if so what are ur opinions on it?

hi anon I hope you don't mind I'm gonna use your ask to just give a little personal review of the major fkmt works 😭 but yeah I have read all of the big 7! prefacing with my bias that I think all of these are really good series and none of them are misses, even tho I'm critical of a few of them

in the order I read them:

kaiji: masterpiece.... obviously I think this ❤️❤️ the best the greatest the object of my obsession for the past year and a half. I could talk forever about it but I will spare everybody ❤️ I will just say kaiji himself is quite possibly the most likable character in any piece of media I have ever engaged with. I have never seen a mc so positively recieved by everybody... you just can't help but love him

kurosawa: incredible. remove some of the small unnecessary uncomfortable bits and it would literally be flawless. there are so many gut wrenching parts in this that idk what even to say??? easily fkmts most emotional work. cried like a baby more than once. I don't think kurosawa would resonate with everybody but the issues within it were ones that sit extremely heavily with me personally so everything really felt like some kind of targeted jab at my heart. as an aside, fkmt is evil for making a sequel as dogshit as shin kurosawa. I didn't believe people re: how dogshit it really was, but my god there is nothing redeeming about it

gai: I don't have a lot to say about gai! It's good! It's short! It's different! sits firmly in the middle of fkmts works for me. explores some very deep concepts and gai is a fascinating protagonist to put with these concepts

zero: I love love love love zero... fkmt feels so heavy all the time so it's really nice to have a series that feels comparatively lighthearted. the gambles/puzzles are super fun and every single character is so good... Suezaki my love.... idk zero is so feel-good!!! to me it weirdly feels similar to kaiji in a lot of aspects that I'm not sure I can articulate, but it felt really nice. that being said it gets docked points for being amazing and just stopping...?? fkmt please ditch shin kurosawa and write part 3 I'm begging you

gtk: i think I like gtk a lot less than most people seem to? idk it doesn't really do it for me... i think older fkmt in general appeals less to me in general? some of the gambles seem too simplistic when compared to his newer works which inherently make them less interesting. highs were good (kamui obv, I also like art dealer arc which most people seem to not be into??) but the lows are rough. i struggle to care about ginji and moritas relationship because they are weirdly apart for most of the story and I don't feel like I ended up seeing the development I wanted from them. dislike the ending quite a bit, it really shows that fkmt was stopped short, which isn't his fault but still makes for a dissatisfactory conclusion

ten: I still don't know how I feel about ten... I'll be honest w you the first 40 some chapters are the worst fkmt has to offer, for me... absolutely dragged and the straightforward mahjong could not keep me interested, it took me months to get thru it... That being said the entire final part was absolutely mesmerizing. one of the major highlights across fkmts entire body of work. i will never forget the dialogue between akagi and soga.... peak peak storytelling. I have a feeling if I read ten again I would appreciate it a lot more and have a more positive view of the first half

akagi: I didn't think anything could top kaiji for me but akagi tried really, really hard... I still like kaiji better subjectively and am more attatched to kaiji characters but akagi is incredible and objectively, probably fkmts greatest work. super brilliant and definitely the cream of the crop art wise, fkmts paneling is insane in akagi. insane how he can write a story about a guy that cannot lose, you know he cannot lose, and it still ends up being as compelling as it was... was on the edge of my seat the entirety of washizu mahjong... a+++

sorry for so much text I love talking about fkmt 🤓

[aquinoa]

My Muse | ft. Tsukishima Kei

-`,dedicated to @hinaaspanda​ for her belated birthday! ⹁՛-

muse

/myo͞oz/; noun

(in Greek and Roman mythology) each of nine goddesses, the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, who preside over the arts and sciences.

a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist.

something Tsukishima thought he’d never find, until you came along.

pairing: Art Student!Tsukishima x Art Student!Reader (female)

genre: Art School!AU, fluff, angst if you squint

word count: 6345

warning: swearing, drinking, like one instance of hinting at the devil’s tango

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you braced yourself for your class' relentless nitpicking of your latest painting. Group critiques were the one thing you dreaded the most about art school.

"Could you explain your reasoning for that type of brushstroke?"

"The message is intriguing, but I'm not so sure about the techniques you used for the foreground portray what you intended."

"The colour scheme seems random." It's been over a month into the semester, but you could never get used to being in the hot seat and facing the criticisms of your peers.

"It looks like a lame Cy Twombly imitation to me. Did you do this in, what— five minutes?" This comment from a certain classmate particularly bothered you. You turned to glare at the culprit.

"Kei Tsukishima! Constructive criticism only, please." The art professor gasped. "How about you go next for your critique?" Tsukishima sighed and shifted his easel, revealing to the class his assignment.

As always, his canvas contained a masterpiece. His technical skills were insanely advanced and the whole class knew it; they could not keep quiet it about it during his crit. His own explanation for it, however, was lacklustre. Most of his responses to comments were the likes of "I don't know," or "I just felt like it." To you, that might've been what aggravated you about Tsukishima the most—he was so gifted, but he treated his pieces as if they were mere doodles. If only you had even a percentage of his technical skills.

You ruminated in your thoughts, as other students continued with their critiques until class ended. In the midst of the class packing up and leaving the studio, your eyes glanced over to Tsukishima a couple of seats down. His eyes eventually meet yours as he passed by, noticing how irritated you still were.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"I'll have you know that painting took a long time to make." You began. "What you said during my crit stung a bit."

"It's called a critique, pipsqueak. What else do you want?" He rolled his eyes, turning his back to you and headed toward the exit.

"I'm not a pipsqueak!" You shrilled, jolting up from your seat. You took a deep breath. "At least be more considerate in my critique. Like—give me a specific thing to improve on?" The boy paused just before the doorway, his back still to you.

"Y/N, was it?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Work on your hatching or something. Gives it more depth." He muttered before walking out. You glanced back at your piece for a second before tucking it away in your case and exiting the studio.

—&

Your body shivered from the evening breeze as you walked back to your apartment. As you rummaged for your keys in front of your door, a cheery voice greeted you from the next door down.

"Oi, Y/N!"

"Yamaguchi!" You beamed. Yamaguchi, your neighbour, was always a ray of sunshine. "How's your essay coming along?"

"Actually, I just submitted it earlier today! So, fingers crossed for that coveted C+!" The boy chuckled before he glanced at your discouraged look and raised a brow. "What happened to you? Rough day?" You nodded, letting out a sigh.

"We had group crits today in studio class. I was able to respond to the comments, but it was obvious what they thought about my work: my technique isn't good enough. God, there was this one particular guy in my class who was just so— so insensitive about it!"

"H-hey, don't mind the haters!" Yamaguchi butted in to calm you down. "He's probably just jealous of you." You raised a brow.

"Jealous of what? It just felt like he was punching down." You looked down, letting out a sigh. "I put a lot of thought into this piece and I thought it would show."

"You're talking about that piece you worked on last week right?" You nodded, Yamaguchi's mouth gaping open. "Wait— that one is so good! I've seen art galleries where they feature a white canvas with a singular black line painted! If those can end up in galleries, you're absolutely fine!" You chuckled, before he continued. "The message behind the art piece is just as important as the piece itself, if not more. And Y/N, you put a lot of thought to the message behind each of your pieces, which is awesome! Don't be too hard on yourself."

"Thanks, Yamaguchi." You grinned. "I honestly am beyond lucky to have ended up with you as a neighbour."

"Hey, I feel like I'm the lucky one having such a talented artist as a neighbour!" The boy grinned back before bidding you goodbye. You waved back and stepped inside your apartment.

—&

"Alright, folks. Now that we're a couple of months into the semester, it's about time to talk about your final term project." The studio professor began explaining the logistics and requirements of the final project. It was essentially another painting but with higher stakes. "Keep in mind: while the technique is absolutely important, your projects also need depth and meaning. Otherwise, you are going to have quite a rough critique. Let me tell you, the other professors can be ruthless!" The professor chuckled. "Now, on with the class." You groaned. The only thing worse than being criticized on the spot by your class was getting criticized on the spot by a group of professors—actual artists. If you were gonna ace the final project, you were gonna have to grind hard.

In the middle of the period, you placed your brush on your easel to take a quick break. You took a deep breath and rolled back your shoulders before letting your eyes wandered around the class—from the wide window pane wall on your left as it welcomed the sunlight throughout the studio, to your classmates on your right as they either quietly worked on their next pieces or chatted amongst each other. Your eyes eventually fall on Tsukishima, a couple of seats from you, as he's quietly slouched over his canvas with a Filbert brush in hand.

"He's probably just jealous of you." These particular words from Yamaguchi left you baffled even after a few days since that interaction. Why would Tsukishima—that gifted asshole—be jealous of you? What could you have for him to be jealous of? Compared to his skills? If anything, you should feel jealous of h—

That was not a thought you wanted to finish. You must've stared at Tsukishima for too long, since his attention has suddenly shifted to you, with a puzzled look.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"I—" You stammered, trying to come up with an excuse. "I...was just wondering if you could...share more brush technique tips...?" You grinned feigningly. The boy glanced over at your canvas then back at you.

"Figures. Looks like you really need it." He snickered, causing you to scoff.

"God, you are hard to talk to."

"Oi, I didn't say no." He rebutted. "I can't be bothered by explaining it to you, though. Since you're already slacking off anyway, just watch me." He adjusted his glasses before focusing back on his own canvas. You rolled your eyes at the ego of this guy, but was puzzled at his odd offer. You kept your eyes on his brush and took mental notes as he continued painting. You were fascinated by the advanced brush techniques he applied as if it was child's play. After watching his brush for a while, your eyes eventually wandered over to his hand. Then to his broad shoulders. Then to the pale nape of his neck. Then to his short, ruffled, blonde hair. Then to the golden-brown eyes behind his glasses, a little sorry that they a lack a glint to them.

"Tsukishima! Do you mind if I talk to you for a second?" The professor asked as she walked up to his easel. It was more than enough to snap you out of your gaze. You darted your head back to your own easel and continued to work away at your canvas, with your flustered confusion blocking out Tsukishima's conversation with the professor. Why did he leave you in such a daze just now?

When the clock signaled the end of class, the class began to pack up. As you put your paint away, you glanced over at Tsukishima once more as he quickly packed up his supplies. This time, he looked more annoyed than usual.

"Oi, Tsukishima." You called to him. "What did the professor talk to you about?"

"None of your business." He retorted without batting an eye as he grabbed his bag and walked out of the studio without another word. Quite rude, but he seemed in a bad mood, so you disregarded it. You grabbed your things and left the studio to continue with the rest of your day.

—&

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

You jolted awake from the knock on your door. You reached for your phone to check the time—it was noon. It was only mere hours ago when you finished pulling an all-nighter to work on an assignment because your inspiration apparently likes to strike at 3am. The knocking continued. You groaned as you sat up and grudgingly made your way over to the front door. You opened the door and peeked out to find a tall, familiar figure standing off to your left.

"Tsukishima?!" For the last few classes, your interactions with Tsukishima have been scarce. He'd somehow manage to insert an insult whenever you'd ask him a question. There were also moments in class where you swore you felt a glance coming from his direction, but when you turned your head to him, he was occupied with his canvas. Seeing him now at your doorstep was a surreal experience.

"Y/N?" He looked at you quizzically. "You live here? Whatever. What do you want?"

"What do you mean "What do you want?"," You mocked sluggishly. "You knocked on my door— what do you want?"

"Wait, you thought I knocked on your door? Dumbass." He snickered. You rolled your eyes and hit his arm.

"I'm too tired for this, Kei." You retorted, leaning against the door frame. "Who are you here to see, then?"

"I'm here to see a friend." He pointed over to Yamaguchi's door and—as if on cue—his door opened and a frantic Yamaguchi stepped out.

"S-sorry, Tsukki!" Yamaguchi shrilled. "My readings took longer than I expected!" He caught sight of you and waved. "Oh! Hi Y/N! I see you've met Tsukki…shima." He chuckled softly.

"Hey Yamaguchi!" You waved back. "Wait, you call him Tsu—that's so cute! I wanna call him that too!" Tsukishima furiously shook his head.

"No way I'm letting anyone else call me Tsukki. I only make an exception for Yamaguchi." He sighed, turning to Yamaguchi. "She's in my studio art class."

"Unfortunately." You muttered under your breath.

"Oi, I heard that." Tsukishima glared.

"Hey Yamaguchi, how do you know Tsukki?" You asked, teasingly emphasizing the latter name. Yamaguchi chuckled.

"Oh, I've been friends with Tsukki since we were young!"

"That's insane. You're way too nice to be hanging around Tsukki."

"Y/N, I will tell Yamaguchi you thought I was knocking on your door, if you don't stop calling me Tsukki." Tsukishima threatened.

"You just did though." You furrowed your brows.

"Wait Y/N, did you just wake up?" Yamaguchi asked.

"Yeah, Tsukki woke me up." You pouted.

"Serves you right, pipsqueak." Tsukishima scoffed.

"Oi, I'm no pipsqueak! It's not my fault you tower over everyone, you bean pole."

"I'd rather be a bean pole—if it means not being caught in public with those on." He pointed down at your panda slippers. You gasped theatrically.

"How dare you insult my precious pandas?"

"Alright, you two!" Yamaguchi finally chimed in. "I get it. You two fight like a married couple. Horribly, I might add." He chuckled, causing both you and Tsukishima to scoff. "Anyways Tsukki, let's get going and let Y/N get some rest." Yamaguchi bid you goodbye, while Tsukishima gave you one last glance before he turned around and followed the other. "Seriously, Tsukki. Just use the doorbell next time!" You chuckled, hearing your neighbour lecture the bean pole as they walked away.

When you stepped back into your apartment, you rubbed the nape of your neck. You've almost forgotten why you've antagonized Tsukishima so much. Aside from the rocky start and the constant teasing, he's never been inherently bad to you. It's almost as if he's nice to you in his own, subtle way.

Nah. It must've been the sleep deprivation talking. You let out another yawn and went back to get some more shut-eye.

—&

The deadline for the studio class' term project was approaching. For the past couple of weeks, you've often found yourself spending late evenings painting away alone in the studio after class. The warm, quiet atmosphere of the studio with golden rays shining through the window pane as the sun set was where you've lately felt the most motivated. One particular evening in the studio, you were stuck on how to execute a certain portion of your painting's foreground.  If you were going to impress the professors during your term project critique, you had to go above and beyond with your technique, considering your track record of your mediocre group critiques. You leaned your head back along with a sigh. You tapped the handle of your paintbrush on your temple, wishing for an idea.

"Y/N?" Startled, you turned to the familiar, baritone voice stood by the studio doorway.

"Tsukishima? H-how long have you been there?"

"Relax, I'm just here to pick up some paint that I forgot." You sighed and turned back to your canvas. He walked over to the supply shelves behind you to grab a few tubes of paint, placing them in his bag, before turning to you. After a while, you couldn't help but feel irked by the boy looking over your shoulder from behind.

"So—" You decided to break the silence. "It's still a work in progress, but what do you think of it?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" He snickered, causing you to groan. At this point, you've grown desensitized of his teasing.

"I'm serious. I want to do well for the term project. I'm just stuck on how to paint this part of the foreground." You motioned to the portion of the canvas before the boy stepped closer to take another look at your painting.

"Give me your brush." You reached out your brush to him without batting an eye, expecting him to take it. To your surprise, you instead felt his hand firmly gripping onto yours.

"Ts-Tsukishima?" You froze, bewitched by his sudden touch. His hand guided you and the brush throughout the canvas, using colour combinations and brush strokes foreign to you, but seemingly simple to him. Your eyes couldn't help but focus on his hand that was clung onto yours. You held your breath. At that moment, it felt like time stood still. When he finished, he gently released your hand. The warmth of his touch lingered on your hand—and on your mind—for a bit longer. He briefly explained the techniques he applied, when he noticed your still flustered reaction.

"Huh— oi, don't get the wrong idea. It was the only way I could've done it without you getting in trouble for cheating or something." He rebutted, seemingly unfazed by his actions. "Besides, you probably wouldn't have been able to do it if I just explained it to you."

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes, any flustered feelings you felt faded away. You looked back at the portion of your canvas just painted. As usual, Tsukishima's methods were impressive and helpful. "Thanks." You uttered under your breath, before continuing to work. He nodded before looking out the window.

"It's getting late. Shouldn't you head home?" He asked as he picked up his bag, about to leave.

"It’s fine," You shook your head, keeping your eyes on your canvas. "I've gone home later than this in the past. I have to work on this." The boy sighed and paused before reaching for your portfolio case.

"I didn't know you were this stubborn too." He dangled your portfolio case and made his way out the studio. "It's time to call it a day if you want this back." You turned to him as he slung your portfolio case over his shoulder with a sly smirk before stepping out the studio. You groaned.

"Oi! Come back here!" You shoved your supplies into your bag, slipped off your apron and grabbed your canvas before rushing out the studio to catch up to him as he kept his leisurely pace. Panting, you caught up to him and snatched your portfolio case back. "What the hell, Tsukishima?" He snickered.

"I'm heading over to Yamaguchi's place anyway, so I wasn't actually going to run away with it."

"You better not have. Wait— why are you headed to Yamaguchi's so late?"

"I'm staying over. My brother's bringing his girlfriend over to our house tonight, so you already know what's bound to happen." He shuddered. "Frankly, I don't want to hear any of that shit." You chuckled.

—&

A serene silence fell upon the two. Before you knew it, you found yourself walking back to the apartment complex together. As you walked, you leaned your head back and took a breath of the evening breeze. You turned your head to Tsukishima, who's engrossed himself in his music, a bit of which you could almost hear from his headphones. You felt your cheeks warm up. Walking beside him right now made you reminisce of the countless romantic scenes you've read where the boy walks the girl home. You shook your head. No, this wasn't one of those tales.

"Why are you looking at me this time?" Tsukishima raised a brow at you, slinging his headphones around his neck. "You've been doing that a lot lately."

"Oh—" You scratched your head. "I swear it's just a coincidence. Maybe you're just looking at me all the time." He rolled his eyes before another silence fell upon the two. A thought suddenly crossed your mind. "I was just wondering, remember when you stormed off after the professor talked to you?"

"Hm."

"What happened? Did she say something bad?" The boy suddenly grimaced. Your curiosity grew, but regretted asking him. He let out a sigh.

"She's concerned about how I'll do in the final term project. That my track record of 'shallow responses' during my crits indicate the kind of work I'll bring to the final critique. And that I didn't feel 'inspired' enough." He shrugged. "As long as I paint something impressive to my audience, I should do fine."

It dawned on you that he has the exact opposite dilemma as you. While you lacked the technique, yet strived in the depth of your pieces, he had insanely advanced skills, but struggled to find drive.

"Don't you want to do more than 'fine', though?" You began. "I mean—isn't that the point of art? To express that of which your muse—let's say—has inspired you?"

"My muse?" Tsukishima raised a brow.

"Yeah, your muse! Something—or someone—that is a source of inspiration for you." He paused, gazing at you before he tsked.

"Odd."

"What do you mean 'odd'?" You furrowed you brows, mocking his tone. "You must have a muse. Something you like that makes you go 'I want to paint something based on that'?" He shook his head. "I don't buy it. Tell me, Kei. You like music, right? Doesn't it make you feel things and envision things when you listen to it?"

"I guess, but it doesn't make me want to paint it."

"Scratch that, then. How about, I'll give you an example of a muse of mine:" You pointed upward. "that."

"Huh—" He looked up as well. "The sky?" You nodded.

"I love the sky. It gives you something different everyday. From the glint of the stars out tonight, the funny shapes you make out from clouds, to the gorgeous colours that sunsets reveal—which is a personal favourite." You sighed in glee.

"Anyone can paint a sunset, though." He rebutted. "I just don't see how the sky would impress the professors. Wouldn't it make you a more worthwhile artist to show off the most challenging techniques you can pull off to succeed?" You gritted your teeth.

"It's not about what you paint—it's why you're painting it!" Your plead echoed around both of you. This took Tsukishima aback. You lowered your head, your heart sinking. It was as if every small, condescending remark he's said has piled up and overwhelmed you. "Not everyone is as gifted as you, Tsukishima." You whimpered softly. "I've always admired your talent." Silence fell once more.

"Y/N, I—"

"You know I have been practicing the things you've taught me. I know I'm not the best at them, but at least I'm improving. At least I'm trying." There was a shakiness growing in your voice.  "I don't know if I'm upset at you or at myself, but—" As you two approached the apartment complex, you turned to the boy one last time with a pained look in your eyes. "but can't you be even the tiniest bit considerate of me?" You turned your back to him and marched back into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind you.

Tsukishima lowered his head, gritted his teeth, and cursed under his breath as Yamaguchi let him inside as well.

—&

For the next couple of weeks, you and Tsukishima ceased talking to each other, not even looking at each other's way. It perplexed you why you've been as affected by him as you were that night. Maybe it was your confusion from how he constantly teetered between belittling you and helping you. Maybe it was your disappointment that you've invested yourself to him but he never reciprocated in the end, but never again. You've convinced yourself that he was nothing more but a mere classmate from studio class—always has been and always will be.  

The end of the term was nearly approaching and the stress continued to pile up. You've been dedicating much more time into perfecting your art pieces for the final project. One particular weekend, cooped up in your apartment while trying to finish up your painting, you hit upon some good ol' artist block. You scratched your head as you tried to find inspiration. You peeked out your window. Nothing but gray clouds today. You turned back to your canvas, frustrated at how you feel you're so close to finishing, yet so far. Eyeing the details, you noticed the particular spot that Tsukishima added that evening in the studio. Your flustered feelings began to creep back into your mind.

Nope.

You ruffled your hair furiously before wailing out a long, exasperated scream for what felt like forever. Once you calmed down, you leaned back onto your seat. Oddly enough, screaming helped you clear your thoughts and frustrations. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

The silence was broken by a sudden, frantic knocking on your door. You walked over and opened the door to find a concerned Yamaguchi.

"Y/N! I heard screaming. A-are you okay?" He asked frantically.

"Yamaguchi! I'm fine, sorry about that." You laughed nervously as you rubbed the nape of your neck. "I was just blowing off steam from the stress of school, I guess." Your neighbour sighed in relief.

"Man, Y/N. You scared me!" He complained. "It's getting that tense, huh?" You nodded. He took notice of your messy hair and your weary demeanor. "You sure look like you need a break. " He chuckled.

"Gee thanks, Yamaguchi."

"Oh!" His eyes suddenly brightened up before placing a hand on your shoulder. "Come over and have a drink or two! It's the weekend, you should let loose!" A drink was probably what you needed right now, anyway.

"Yeah, that sounds pretty nice." You conceded. Yamaguchi beamed in response. You closed your door and followed your neighbour into his unit.

"Make yourself at home." Yamaguchi made his way to the fridge. "I'll grab drinks. Any preferences?"

"The hardest ones you've got." You both laughed.

"Gotcha." You sat down on the couch and leaned back. You glanced around. You spot a familiar set of brushes and paints—the ones from the studio. You looked around once more until you spotted him sat by the balcony.

"Tsukishima?" You caught the blonde boy in the middle of ogling at you, seemingly somewhat buzzed already. His eyes widened the moment your eyes met, and quickly looked away. He placed his headphones back on and took another swig from his bottle.

"Sorry, Y/N." Yamaguchi chimed in as he headed towards you with two red cups. "I figured if I mentioned Tsukki was staying over tonight, you'd refuse to come over." You shook your head, smiling reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Yamaguchi. He didn't hurt me or anything." You sighed. "I overreacted a bit too." He handed you a cup and sat down beside you.

"Tsukki told me what happened. He regretted being so brash with you."

"He did?" Yamaguchi nodded, glancing over at Tsukishima.

"You want to know how he's gotten so good at painting?"

"Sure."

"The thing his professor told him—that he lacks inspiration in his work—it's not unfounded. It's something he's struggled with long before he started art school. He figured that if he explored more techniques—that if he got better—he'll eventually find something to inspire him. He's gotten so talented, but he rarely feels fulfilled from his work. It's made him feel like an inadequate artist, which is why he's resorted to teasing and such."

"Oh." You frowned. "I never thought of it like that."

"Don't worry! I believe he's recently found that source of inspiration. You should see the painting he's done for your term project!" Yamaguchi leaned back on the couch. "Tsukki's never been the best at being positive or open, so you'll have to forgive him. The teasing get annoying, surely, but he means well. He's teased me since we were kids, but I've come to realize that that's how he shows he's invested in someone."

"No way—I don't buy it."

"I know it's hard to believe, but it's true! You'll see." He grinned. "I'm not sure if you'll see Super Drunk Tsukishima tonight, but he can be quite sentimental." He chuckled.

"Now that would be a sight to see." You snickered. "What kind of drunk are you, Yamaguchi?"

"There's only one way to find out, right?" He snickered as you both clinked your cups and guzzled down your drinks.

A few drinks later, it didn't take long to find yourself drunk and beside a passed-out, mumbling Yamaguchi on the couch. Zoned out, you let out a couple of hiccups. You suddenly caught a moving figure from the corner of your eye. You sluggishly turned your head to find Tsukishima stumbling to grab another bottle from the fridge. You sneered loudly.

"Tsssukki—can I call you Tsukki? I'm gonna call you Tsukki—someone should cut you off."

"Cut me off? I paced myself—" The boy rebutted, flimsily pointing at you. He hiccuped. "unlike you. Take a look at yourself, Y/N. And look what you did to Yamagusshi!"

"Pffft. He did that to himself." You cackled. He groaned before opening his bottle and shuffling back, sitting down on the balcony floor. After a second, you decided to follow him out and plop down beside him. "Tsukki, I'm sorryyy—" You turned to him and pouted. "I yelled at'cha that one time. I didn't know y'were sad tooo." Taken aback, the boy furrowed his brows, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you.

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one who upset you." He pointed the neck of the bottle to himself, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "I'm the asshole here." Your drunk ass couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Asshole! You said 'asshole'!" You continued to cackle, leaning back too much as you began to lose balance. Before you knew it, Tsukishima reached out, catching you with one hand grasped onto your wrist and his other hand wrapped around your waist.

"Oi, be careful." He gently pulled you back upward as you continued to giggle to yourself, still seemingly unaware of his actions. You finally realized what just occurred the moment you felt his hand pull away from your waist. Flustered, you looked away for a moment and grumbled.

"You sure are an asshhole, Kei." You muttered, trying hard not to slur your words. "Y'know—you i-insult me all the ti—"

"I know, and I'm sorr—"

"But y-you also do these things that make m-my heart skip a beat—"

"Y/N—" He stammered.

"A-and I get all confused about you, and I never know what to feel—"

"Y/N."

"I mean—w-why me? Why aren't you like this to other people?"

"Because I don't care about other people." Tsukishima's words finally cut you off. You gazed at him as the moonlight lit up his flustered face. You felt his grip on your wrist slide down as he gently held your hand. He locked his eyes onto yours. You hoped your flushed cheeks from the alcohol were enough to hide your blushing as he slowly leaned his face closer.

THUD!

You both turned your head back into the main room to find Yamaguchi on the foot of the couch.

"Tsukki..." He groaned. "Bathroom...puke...n-now..." Tsukishima sighed. He looked at you once more before he stammered.

"I should go help him..." You nodded, still flustered. He released your hand as he rose to his feet and clumsily headed over to Yamaguchi to help him. You gently hit your cheeks with the palms of your hands. You figured those two would be occupied for a while, so you decided to trudge back to your apartment without bidding them goodbye. You felt as if your emotions were at their limit, anyway. It was going to be one hell of a hangover the next day.

—&

You couldn't remember a lot from that night at Yamaguchi's place, but the feeling of Tsukishima's hand grasped onto yours still lingered on your mind. You weren't sure if you were imagining it or not—or if you just wanted it to happen. None of that mattered right now; there wasn't much time left before the end of the semester. For the remainder of the time, you focused solely on schoolwork, determined on creating the best final product for your studio class' final term project to your ability. You knew you still had ways to go, but you've surely improved your technique. You were grateful to Tsukishima, but you didn't have the time to entertain anymore confusion from your emotions.

"How could I have forgotten the varnish?" You grumbled as you paced your way to the studio one day, picking up some supplies. Right before entering, you took notice of the figures already in the studio: Tsukishima in front of a small panel of art professors. You gasped and hid behind the door. His critique for the term project must've been today. You peeked your head out the door to take a closer look inside.

Your eyes couldn't help but focus on Tsukishima, surprised by how much more devotedly he seems answering the professors' comments; a huge contrast compared to his previous demeanor during previous crits in class. You smiled. It was admirable seeing him like that. You glanced over to the painting he presented. It was a beautiful depiction of the sky at dusk: a gorgeous mix of colours at sunset with an ethereal sky of stars above. Even from a distance, it wasn't hard to appreciate his mastery of technique. Another detail of the painting caught your eye: the female figure in the middle whose presence was subtle, yet significant. As you pieced together her features, you slowly realized that the figure in his painting strongly resembled you.

"Hold on—" The sound of applause and chairs scraping on the floor interrupted your train of thought. You gasped as you hid around the corner, waiting for the studio to clear. You heard the voices fading off as they walked out of the studio and waited a few moments before deciding the coast was clear. You snuck into the studio, only to find one more person across the room.

"I saw you peeking, you know." Tsukishima remarked, packing up his artwork. "You're not stealthy at all."

"I figured." You sighed. "I'm just here to pick up some varnish for my project. How did your crit go?"

"I think it went well." He rubbed the nape of his neck. "I never talked this much during crits, but it was easier since I had some inspiration to drive me."

"Hey, that's awesome! I knew you had it in you!" You grinned. "It was a beautiful painting, by the way. It's funny—for a second, I thought the person in your painting sort of looked like me." You laughed awkwardly. The boy raised a brow.

"I painted Urania, one of the Nine Muses in Greek mythology. The Muse of astronomy. So yeah—don't flatter yourself."

"I guess you took my advice literally, huh." You replied, grimacing. You went over to the supply cabinet to pick up the varnish. The boy took notice of your change in tone and scratched his head.

"Sorry. That was unnecessary."

"it's fine." Silence fell upon the studio. Tsukishima finally cleared his throat.

"I mean—that's at least what I told the professors who she was. There's a hidden layer to the painting that I didn't mention."

"What do you mean?"

"What you said earlier—that you thought Urania resembled you. It's because I painted her to resemble you, and the way you admired the sky. Did you think it was a coincidence she looked like you in a painting where I also painted what you said was your muse?"

"W-why paint me, then?" You stammered. He sighed. You sensed a change in his demeanor.

"It baffled me how each crit in class, you're always so adamant on the message of your paintings. It was something I admire about you— and something I wanted to be able to do. Through you, I learned to find inspiration from even the most mundane things." He slowly made his way across the room to you. You grew flustered.

"Tsukishima..." You took a step back, getting backed up by the wall. He stopped right in front of you, towering over you. You felt your cheeks warm up. He took the jar of varnish from your hand and tucked it in his back pocket.

"I meant what I said back at Yamaguchi's place—that I didn't care about anyone else but you. So hearing what you said that night..."  A deep, golden shade of sunlight shone through the window pane and onto you as the sun began to set. You reached for Tsukishima’s shirt and gently tugged on it. He reached for your other hand and held it. He cupped his other hand on your cheek and tilted your head upward towards him. "You said you didn't believe I didn't have a muse, but I swore on it. Now—now it's different, because I've found you, Y/N." He leaned his face closer, your eyes fixed onto each other's. "You're my muse." He closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes and kissed back. As your kisses grew deeper, you tugged on his shirt a bit stronger to pull his body closer to yours. He intertwined your fingers together, holding each other's hand tighter. This all felt right. Eventually, you lightly pulled away from each other, panting softly. You fixed your gaze on his golden-brown eyes once more. There was now a strong glint to them, unlike before. It made you happy.

"I'm honoured to be your muse, Kei." You softly replied, grinning widely. Hearing your reply, Tsukishima let out a soft laugh—it was the happiest you've seen him look. You liked seeing him this happy. He sighed.

"Here." He let go of your hand to reach for his back pocket and return the jar of varnish. "I’ll walk you home. I'm staying over at Yamaguchi's tonight." You took the jar and tucked it away in your bag. He followed you out of the studio and you began walking back to the apartment complex together.

"Your brother brought his girlfriend over again?" He nodded. "That's been happening more frequently. Doesn't it get annoying?"

"A bit. It's fine, though—" He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. "Soon enough, I might have to kick him out this time." He smirked. Growing flustered again, you gasped.

"Tsukishima, you pervert!" He sneered before speeding up his pace and leaving you behind. You scoffed, chasing after him. "Oi, get back here!"

—&

You gently slapped your cheeks with the palms of your hands—psyching yourself up. Your critique for your final term project is mere minutes away. You muttered to yourself as you paced back and forth in front of the studio.

"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this."

"You can do this." Tsukishima repeated, having your painting in hand. "You have nothing to worry about."

"What if it's not good enough?" You fretted.

"You've worked so hard this whole term. I mean, look at this." He took another look at the canvas. "It's both meticulous and insightful. They'll love it."

"Are you su—" He promptly handed you back the canvas, interrupting you.

"They'll love it." He repeated once more. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. "There. Only because you can't reach me from down there." He snickered, while you rolled your eyes. You heard a voice from the studio call your name. "Go knock 'em dead." You smiled at him once more before stepping into the studio. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you braced yourself for the professors' relentless nitpicking of your latest painting. Group critiques were the one thing you dreaded the most about art school. However, now with better faith in your skills and in your muse, you figured you'll be alright.

[amphtaminedreams]

Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 2/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

First of all, thank you! I have never had a post do as well as the part 1 of my haute couture week review did and I am so overwhelmed with the positive feedback. This is probably funny to read for those of you getting thousands of reblogs on your posts, me acting like I won an academy award because I got a couple of hundred, but honestly I don’t expect any traction when I write on here (it’s basically just me word vomiting everything I’m thinking as if people want to hear it aka. mouthing off into what I thought was the void) so if you did read it, thank you! I do spend a long-ass time on these so it means a lot:-)

I’ll leave the self-indulgent ramble there though as it’s probably not what you came for and jump straight into part 2 of my thoughts, starting with Jacquemus. Yeah, I knew what I was doing when I tagged that in my last post. Simon Porte Jacquemus is the man of the *fashion* people right now; I’ve even found myself coming round to the Le Chiquito bag despite my original thought being “well, that’s fucking useless”. I know, I know, technically it’s not haute couture; it was part of Men’s Fashion Week, but it happened around the same time and everyone was talking about it on Twitter, so I feel like I have to include it.

In a way, it kind of reminds me of Bottega Veneta’s last RTW show, in that, especially with the women’s outfits, we seem to be sticking with simple, fitted garments and chunky, more statement jewellery. I’ve got to say I like the styling here a lot more though, and in general I’m a fan of this collection. The collared tops with cut outs underneath blazers are cool and I can’t wait until it gets warm enough for me to not feel dumb wearing my headscarfs like this; there’s a LOT of summer outfit inspiration. It’s not a mind-blowing collection or anything but it is effortlessly sexy and that’s something I wish I could say about myself. Most of us can only hope to look half as good as these models do whilst making the effort but at least Jacquemus is aspirational, lol. 

I also fucking adore this colour palette. I’m sick of neutrals literally just meaning brown and white; the navy, sand and muted khaki is a fresh edition to what is usually interpreted as the colours you’d seen worn by Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff and only Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff. And I mean, come on-what is more neutral than typical English school carpet blue.

Next for the whole reason I had to make this haute couture week review 2 separate posts: Jean Paul Gaultier’s final show.

In the best way possible, it’s a lot. I don’t even really know where to start, except to say that I guess this is a fitting last show; a celebration of everything campy, messy, weird, performative, and punk is the perfect send off for a brand whose best known perfume of the last few years is called Scandal. More than anything, the final show represented the range of characters and cultures that have influenced JPG throughout his half-a-decade-long career, the lines that supposedly separate what is “masculine” and “feminine”, “old” and “young” and ultimately art and fashion blurred in the most exaggerated way possible. Sure, there are some looks which are individually a bit messy here but the way they were grouped into almost chapter-like segments meant that when you see them all together, they work. Nods to the patterns and structures that recurred from season to season were sprinkled throughout, from sailor stripes to corsets to the expected whirlwinds of colour. I’ll even allow the wellies in that one outfit; if I can get over bucket hats in Peter fucking Pilotto’s last RTW show, I can get over some questionable shoes here. Middle aged fishermen and boys who liked to pose with monster carp in their Tinder pictures as some weird display of masculinity everywhere rejoice.

Now onto a show that I personally found slightly disappointing: Margiela.

I think this one is a bit TOO weird for me. Like if you’re gonna go avant-garde, go all out. Chiffon gimp masks (I don’t know if that’s the intention here but that’s what I’m getting, sorry Maison) are something I’m not particularly fond of and I’ve never been a fan of the Tabi boots in the first place, let alone when they’ve seemingly been blown up to Michelin man style proportions. I didn’t find the show to be a total lost cause-I enjoyed the colour palette and I’ve always liked that contrast stitching detail, plus the bowler hats are interesting-but on the whole considering how much I liked the last RTW show, this is a bit of a let down. 

The looks I included are salvageable but (I feel mean saying this) there were genuinely a lot of pieces that did just resemble bits of fabric draped over each over with no discernible rhyme or reason, so much so that they reminded me of some of the monstrosities I saw at a Drag Race pub quiz this one time where we had 5 mins to make some garms out of loo roll and then have a team member model them for points down a makeshift runway. 

Ralph and Russo was alright. There were a few pieces that I really liked but again, I can’t help but compare this collection to the last, where it felt like the fussy details of bows and sequins and feathers and the Barbie Dreamhouse palette were utilised with a direction in mind. Here, I don’t get that. As ever, the gowns are gorgeous and I’d pay good money just to try one on for five minutes but as an overall collection I’d say there was a lack of higher vision, which is probably the snobbiest sentence I’ve ever written so forgive me.

As for Ronald Van Der Kemp, I could’ve done without including it to be honest, if it weren’t for the few pieces I’m in love with: the velvet cape, fur trimmed jacket and blue satin dress are probably my favourite pieces here.

So onto a collection I liked a lot more: Schiaparelli. 

The influence of nature from flowers in bloom to insects to the organic structure of the human skeleton is as present as ever, though this collection includes a lot more delicate symbolism than usual. Honestly, the details make it for me; the brooches, earrings and facial jewellery are other-worldly touches to outfits that could otherwise be simple fashion magazine editor on-the-go. That’s not in itself a bad thing! The suits are gorgeous. I mean, I’m talking fashion editor in New York in a power suit yelling orders down the phone while she rushes along with a coffee. A Miranda Priestley in the making type woman. THAT’S a modern take on the divine feminine that Maria Grazia should’ve been going for; our goddesses aren’t women who sit around looking pretty (though that helps too) and place curses on mere mortals anymore, they’re women who get shit done. 

With regards to Valentino, which was also a delight, let me start by saying this colour palette is EVERYTHING. It’s ugly sisters in Cinderella fantastic, and we know those 2 were the real fashion icons really. Other than that, I adore the Old Hollywood silhouettes from the gloves to the Liz Taylor-in-Cleopatra-level-dramatic earrings. Everything is opulent and expensive-looking and pretty much what we’ve all come to expect from Valentino. A strong 8/10.

For me personally, Viktor and Rolf was a standout and one of my favourite collections of haute couture week. It’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea and I know it’s at the complete opposite end of the spectrum to what was probably my other favourite collection, Elie Saab, but this is just my style down to a T, the perfect balance of grungy and cutesy that I want to achieve. 

There’s probably going to be a lot of objections to the temporary face tattoos and I get that, but I think they’re fucking sick. I obviously wouldn’t get a permanent one lest my mother murder me in cold blood however if I did, you bet I would be pairing them with frilly-ass babydoll dresses that you could pick up in Camden Market like this. 

And last but not least (that would be Dior), there’s Zuhair Murad.

Sigh.

IDK, man. Seeing Zuhair Murad dresses on Tumblr and WeHeartIt (remember that site? It still exists!) as a 14 year old was one of the things that got me into fashion, so it sucks that almost every time a new collection comes around, I feel underwhelmed. Disappointingly, the brand hasn’t really progressed all that much since 2013. It goes without saying that the stoning and the embroidery and sequins are stunning and would make anyone feel like a princess but from a critical point of view, I’m just not seeing anything new here. Whereas I feel like Elie Saab, for example, reflected the growing fascination with East Asian fashion and recognition of the supremacy of the region’s street style in his haute couture last collection, Zuhair Murad seems to be stuck designing the same dresses he was 6 years ago. 

To pick one example, the rounded stoned necklines are so outdated that they’ve been making their way onto department store prom dresses for years. I get that it’s supposed to be a reference to Ancient Egyptian style and I respect that, I was one of those 8 year old that was obsessed with mummies and the “Curse of Tutankhamun”, but couldn’t it be done in a more interesting way? It’s Maria Grazia’s spin on Ancient Greece all over again. Now I get how how the I imagine very niche subsection of people who are into fashion and Julius Caesar (okay, so I don’t even know if they still believed in mythology and all that malarky at that point in history but just roll with my comparison here) might’ve felt going through Vogue Runway. Anyway, I hate to end on a critical note and so be clear, these are still absolutely magnificent dresses. If we ignore those ugly round necklines, that is.

So that’s it for this post! If you read part 1 and 2, I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know your opinions and feel free to disagree. I’m literally just about to start trawling through all the A/W 2020 RTW collections though I imagine that’s gonna take me way longer to do than this, so I wouldn’t expect that for a month or two. In the meantime, I’m trying to fit shooting a Euphoria-inspired lookbook into my days off work which is looking atm like it’s going to be the end of March, so look out for that, and also a review of the red carpet fashion from this season’s award shows. 

As ever, thank you so much for reading and again, thank you for the reception on part 1 if you were one of the people that read it. It makes staying up til 3am with the jitters seem worthwhile, lol! 

Lauren x

[manuscripts-dontburn]

In an Absent Dream

Author: Seanan McGuire

First published: 2019

Pages: 187

Rating: ★★★★☆

How long did it take: 2 days

Possibly the second-best of this (overall underwhelming) series. It always helps when there are no snarky teenagers who speak in a superbly unnatural way.

A Long Petal of the Sea

Author: Isabel Allende

First published: 2019

Pages: 336

Rating: ★★★★☆

How long did it take: 6 days

More than anything this story was a history lesson for me - and a welcomed one, because I have never researched Chile and the turmoil it went through in the 20th century. The author´s style is not my favourite, it felt a bit too dry and clipped on more than one occasion, but even if I didn't mesh with it I read the book very quickly.

Mr Rochester

Author: Sarah Shoemaker

First published: 2017

Pages: 464

Rating: ★★★★☆

How long did it take: 5 days

Thank you Sarah Shoemaker for taking a different road than the majority of Jane Eyre retellings, which invariably portray Mr Rochester as a devil incarnate. Because that seems to be the general modern consensus. But you have managed to create a portrait of a man, who retains his flaws (and yes, he becomes manipulative), but finally has a voice and can offer his own point of view. The book has a slow, languid pace and it very much reminds the reader of the 19th-century novels in style, which fits the narrative. There are no great surprises, since everything dramatic we already know, still I greatly enjoyed reading about Rochester as a somehow lost and starving for affection little boy, awkward teenaged trying to please, optimistic and charmed young man and eventually bitter adult who struggles for bits and pieces of happiness. I also believe that this version of Edward Rochester (as well as Bertha Mason) is much more loyal to what Charlotte Brontë had in mind when she was writing them, than what many other have managed, when they tried to twist the characters and their motivations in their own attempts to retell the masterpiece that is Jane Eyre.

My Best Friend's Exorcism

Author: Grady Hendrix

First published: 2016

Pages: 174

Rating: ★★★★☆

How long did it take: 2 days

This may not have been as half as scary or half as hilarious as I had expected it to be... but it turned out to be a perfect book for the given moment. It reads very easily and quickly and more than on possession it actually centres on the friendship between two teenage girls. I enjoyed it immensely.

The Only Good Indians

Author: Stephen Graham Jones

First published: 2020

Pages: 320

Rating: ★★★★☆

How long did it take: 2 days

I am rather new to the horror genre, so I have little to compare this book to. That said, I think it was solid, even if unevenly paced. Scenes which truly leave you scared and interested are interchanged with ones that I suppose were mean to give you the less obvious creeps, but quite a lot of them bored me. And frankly, there was way too much basketball, even if it was important in the later parts of the story. Still, I appreciate the Native American culture representation as well as the thrill and immersion I got near the end. I believe it is not a spoiler to say that the finish left me satisfied and actually moved.

Jerusalem: The Biography

Author: Simon Sebag Montefiore

First published: 2011

Pages: 752

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

How long did it take: 13 days

I have read some truly excellent books on remarkable cities (like London, Prague and St. Petersburg) and while I admit writing a book on Jerusalem must have been a much more daunting task, it still does not excuse this book being rather lacklustre. Perhaps my own expectations were simply misplaced? I would have liked a story of Jerusalem more focused on the culture, the interesting personalities, the architecture, perhaps even literature and other art forms... focused on what makes Jerusalem special and unique. Instead, this book is an exhausting encyclopedia of every massacre and war and ruler. Which is fine when you are trying to look up something basic, but not nearly enough to make for good reading. I have also come across some inaccurate statements, which, even if seemingly minor, put in question other claims made in the book. Not to mention the author´s obsession with informing you on the sexual prowess (or lack of it) and perversion of nearly everybody he mentions. For example, I did not need to know that Gustave Flaubert once had sex with three girls and orgasmed four times when he visited Beirut. A catalogue of events and names, not a particularly impressive tribute to one of the most fascinating cities in the world.

Komiksová Kytice

Author: Karel Jaromír Erben & various illustrators

First published: 2016

Pages: 315

Rating: ★★★★★

How long did it take: 1 day

Kytice je národní klenot a jedna z mých naprosto nejoblíbenějších knih. Je úžasné, že kdykoliv se k ní vrátím, zcela mne rozechvívá. Grafická zpracování jednotlivých balad jsou rozhodně zajímavá, některá na oči příjemnější než jiná, nicméně celé publikaci jako takové dává participace různých výtvarníků velmi originální koncepci. 

The House in the Cerulean Sea

Author: TJ Klune

First published: 2020

Pages: 393

Rating: ★★★★★

How long did it take: 5 days

This is the absolutely most PRECIOUS book I have read in years! So sweet, so pure! Reading it felt like a healing experience. Loved, loved, loved!

House of Earth and Blood

Author: Sarah J. Maas

First published: 2020

Pages: 803

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

How long did it take: 9 days

I read this book because I thought I would give Sarah J. Maas a chance, her being so popular an author. So my homework is done now and...yeah... this is a super trash literature that is completely fine to enjoy when you want your brain to completely switch off and not think at all. But as for the world-building, editing, writing, characters, pacing.... nah. Not good. I could write a 24-page-long essay on what all there is to criticize, but then I realized this book did not really give me anything so why should I bother reviewing.... Givin it 2 stars here because I did not feel the need to throw it across the room and burn it, it did not make me mad (like some other books did in the past), and that vacuum cleaner scene WAS funny.

Imperial Mother, Royal Daughter: Correspondence Between Marie Antoinette and Maria Theresa

Author: Olivier Bernier

First published: 1986

Pages: 330

Rating: ★★★★☆

How long did it take: 12 days

A very interesting and revealing collection of letters between two iconic women. Would make an excellent "Side reading" to any biography on the two. The way the letters are chosen and edited I also appreciate, since the whole thing really reads like a novel, even though it is not.

[spaceorphan18]

Fantasia

Okay, where to even start with this.  I think this is a super ambitious project that both works and doesn’t work.  It’s like going to a two hour classical concert with visuals.  Was it groundbreaking for its time, and somewhat revolutionary for music and animation? Yes! Can it be tedious to sit through? My god yes.  

When I was younger - I used to think Fantasia was four hours long.  It’s only two but ngl, the second half of the film, I really struggled.  I think if they had cut out at least two of the segments, I’d probably have been able to handle it a little better.  

I’ll say this -- classical music, at least to me, is like trying to read a science textbook - it requires full attention at all times to retain what you’ve read.  I think one of the reasons (for me personally) this film is hard is that to actually sit all the way through it requires a lot of focus, and that can be taxing.  Classical music is great! And the animation here is (mostly) great.  But it’s a lot to jam in two hours.  

Alright - so let’s dig in here.  (Get ready for some full on music nerdiness.)  

Overview - 

The film breaks down into segments that go along with classical pieces.  You guys all know these pieces, even if you don’t know their names.  Most of them have been used countless times in pop culture and commercials -- but I can see how this would be a bit revolutionary for the time because in the 40s there really wasn’t pop culture or commercials to devalue these these great musical art pieces.  But -- that’s an entirely different tangent to go on.  

So, the segments are broken up by a looming, silhouetted dude named Deems, who introduces us to each of the pieces.  While Deems is entertaining just because he’s shrouded in darkness for most of his monologues - most of this could have been conveyed via title card - but I get that they were going for a concert-esque feel.  

The Segments -- 

1.  Toccata and Fugue in D Minor by Johann Sebastian Bach.  

The play list is like a Now!Classical Music CD, and I’m not surprised that Bach kicks the whole thing off.  Interestingly, they start off simple -- there’s not a whole lot of animation going on, just pictures and shapes and colors.  It’s a lot like listening to music while watching a screen saver on your computer.  I don’t consider that a criticism, either.  It’s sort of a way to slide the audience into what they’re going to be doing for the rest of the film.  And I almost like the abstract idea over some of the more story-focused segments they’ll do later on.  

I love this piece in general - so I’m find with sitting the whole through the whole thing.  The funniest part, though, was at the beginning when Deems talked about how this piece may not evoke a specific thing -- when in fact, if most of you heard the opening chords, you’ll most likely automatically think of Dracula.  ;) 

2.  The Nutcracker Suite by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.

This is the one I remember the most from when I was a kid - probably because it was the section I enjoyed the most since I knew the music.  

The whole thing is nature based, and I really appreciate how they incorporated different cultures into the different dances.  While it’s on the longer side, I think it’s one of the ones that works the best.  It’s visually stunning and engaging.  And it’s also super interesting to see the Suite without any Christmas or Ballet connotations.  

3.  The Sorcerer's Apprentice by Paul Dukas.

This is, perhaps, the most famous section of the film - since it’s about Mickey Mouse, and the imagery is used a lot in Disney commercialism.  

It’s a fine little cartoon about Mickey being a sorcerer’s apprentice -- getting into a bit of hijinx.  It plays out a lot like a traditional cartoon would (old Warner Brother’s classics come to mind - like Bugs Bunny singing Opera).  It’s not the best section, nor the worst.  It’s just kind of.. there.  

4.  Rite of Spring by Igor Stravinsky.  

So, I should preface this with -- I’m not a fan of Stravinsky.  Sorry.  Yes - I get the guy was a genius, and really revolutionary, and pushing the boundaries of what Western Tonality could do.  But I just don’t engage with his music very well.  

That said, I don’t think this is a ‘bad’ section, it’s just unintentionally funny at times.  It is -- a 1940′s view of the history of life on earth, which to someone living in the 2010s, feels very dated.  

On the one hand - there’s some interesting visuals here - particularly the underwater life, even if it’s not at all accurate.  On the other hand, the dinosaurs are kind of laughable, though there is one genuinely tense moment between a T-Rex and a Stegosaurus.  

My biggest issue is that it feels like it just goes on and on.  Part of it is the music, and the arrangement in particular.  (Apparently Stravinsky was not a fan either.)  And this is where my attention begins to wane.  

5. There’s an Intermission at this point - complete with jazz music (almost a welcome break from the classical, which can be taxing to listen to for long periods of time), and an animated white string to show you what sound waves look like (which I’m sure was fascinating to people who’ve never seen what a sound wave looks like before).  

6.  The Pastoral Symphony by Ludwig van Beethoven.

So, I love Beethoven - he is my favorite classical composer.  But this, man.  I don’t know.  The Pastoral is not my favorite symphony -- I feel like the 5th, the 9th, and even the 7th might have been more interesting choices here.  But even more so - this is one of those times that I like to listen at my own leisure, and the animation on screen almost feels like a detriment to the piece itself. 

The Pastoral is a collection of scenes from nature.  Fantasia uses a Greek Myth theme, and ties into the whole nature-esque thing the music is doing.  While I understand what they were going for, especially the ending with Zues throwing around lightning bolts during the ‘thunderstorm’ portion of the symphony, the whole thing feels a bit tedious and purposefully elongated.  

The animation, I guess, is fine - it’s a bit more cartoon-ish than some of the more artfully done segments.  

Also - this is a good point to mention that most of the second half of the music is slower in tempo and timbre and I’m not sure why they would do this.  

7.  Dance of the Hours by Amilcare Ponchielli.

And... this is where I had the most trouble focusing.  Apparently this was all supposed to be comic.  Maybe I just didn’t get it.  Mostly, it’s a bunch of dancing animals, one mini-segment for each part of the day.  And I found it incredibly boring.  

Comparatively, the animation on this one seems the weakest.  The backgrounds are dull and uninspired next to pretty much every other segment.  The dancing animals didn’t seem all that engaging.  Oh - and in case you’re wondering, the opening section of this was parodied in that old “Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah” short cartoon - so I kept thinking of that instead of the ostriches prancing around in tutus.  Yeah. 

8.  Night on Bald Mountain by Modest Mussorgsky and Ave Maria by Franz Schubert.

This segment is actually really pretty cool, and something I would have enjoyed much better if I hadn’t been ready to be done with the film.  It kind of depicts this darker spirits (and possibly The Devil) during the night, all leaving at dawn.  The animation here really sells it -- it’s completely unlike anything that’s in the film prior to it, and unlike anything Disney did in his previous work.  It’s really quite beautiful and haunting is a great piece to end on. 

Final Thoughts: This is a tough one to talk about - because it’s one of those things where on one hand, you want to be intellectual about, and study and appreciate it as an art form. On the other hand - it can be tedious - especially if you’re attempting a casual watch through. I feel like you really have to be in the right mindset going in to enjoy it.  

[jojo-lity]

Iris

thank you for commissioning, i really hope you enjoy it!

pairing: okuyasu nijimura/reader word count: 3709 rating: sfw

ao3 link

“Morioh Grand Hotel, how may we help you?”

The room service worker patiently waited as their guest deliberated over the breakfast options. Conscious of available money and time, she took a simple option, prepared to just get a big lunch if it proved inadequate. Despite her nerves, she managed to get it all down, quickly checking everything one last time before setting out.

Somewhere in that town, where she was walking, Rohan Kishibe lived.

He was a new face in the manga world, but he had carved out his reputation at a phenomenal speed. Naturally, when he had offered the chance for one select participant to learn from him, she had put everything she had into proving herself. Even now, her ability recognised, meeting him was almost as fearful as it was exciting. 

Carefully navigating the public transport network, she made her way to the address she had been given. Assuming that it would be the directions to his home, she was initially dismayed to see a cafe, until she saw him at one of the outdoor tables.

He was working furiously, only occasionally pausing to glance at the vase of flowers in front of him. Not daring to interrupt, she circled behind him to look at the canvas, stunned by the decisive shading and colouring. Far from Rohan’s usual stylised work, it was almost indistinguishable from a photograph.

She waited for him to be certainly finished before clearing her throat. Conscious that he didn’t like to waste time, she launched right into speaking. “Hello!” He didn’t appear to respond to her name, but at the mention of the competition, he blinked and pulled a small photograph from his pocket. Looking closer revealed what she suspected: it was the picture she had submitted with her entry.

“Oh, of course, the contest winner. Sit down, then.” He made a quick gesture towards the table’s other seat, which also had a canvas set up in front of it.

So maybe he wasn’t chatty, but his skills were undeniable. She looked forward to being able to improve her own.

“What’s the first thing you look to for inspiration?” Once she was seated, he questioned her in a clear, rehearsed voice, a single eye peeking out from behind the canvas to stare.

Did she even have a clear answer to that question? She took a moment to think, conscious of his unblinking gaze. “Uh… you?” Everyone liked to be flattered, didn’t they?

“Wrong.” The exposed half of his face retreated from view. “When creating something… your first point of contact should be reality. Always. If you want people to read your manga, they need to understand it. It needs to be familiar to them in some way. So always, build from a foundation of absolute reality.” He spun his canvas around to face her, displaying the painted vase she had already seen. “This is what you’ll start with.”

So she was drawing still lifes? That wasn’t what she signed up for, but she couldn’t argue with Rohan’s results, and it was only the first day. She had weeks to learn about manga.

While she worked, Rohan did the same, though she had no idea what he was doing. It wasn’t her greatest area of expertise, but her finished product was judged as “not terrible”, and she was immediately assigned a new subject. And so it seemed to continue for the rest of the day.

The atmosphere barely shifted from morning to afternoon, until the cafe was suddenly crowded by students on their way home from school. To her, it was inevitable that someone would eventually notice the celebrity in their midst- the only surprise was that it took so long.

“Hey, is that Rohan over there?”

Who was addressing him so casually? She got her answer when their table was crowded by three students, in varying sizes and uniforms but apparently all high-schoolers. They were clearly curious, but to her surprise, that curiosity appeared to centre on her.

“Rohan, no way!” Forgoing a greeting, one of the taller students cried out in shock and anguish. “Don’t tell me that you have a girlfriend!” His purple-uniformed friend patted his shoulder.

“Come on, Okuyasu, there’s gotta be some other explanation. Right?” He grinned at her, a considerably more enthusiastic look than he had given Rohan. Were they not his fans?

Rohan seemed to have nothing to say, too busy showing his notebook to the smaller student (Koichi, she thought she heard him be called), so she went ahead and answered his question. “Nothing like that! I’m just here to learn from him.” 

Okuyasu visibly brightened up, leaning closer to inspect one of her many paintings. “Hey, this isn’t manga.”

“I’m… learning about reality?” Now that someone else mentioned it, maybe it really was strange that manga had barely been mentioned, let alone practiced. Neither of them looked surprised, though, with the boy in purple even muttering about how that sounded like Rohan, all right.

“Hey, this is really good! Come look, Josuke!” Okuyasu held up her rendering of the vase, displaying it with the fascination that she only felt for the greatest works. Her painting was good, but it hardly compared to that- did he really like it that much? His excitement showed no signs of fading as he explored the rest of the day’s works, including the half-finished one resting on her easel. He didn’t so much as glance at any of Rohan’s. “Man, you should be teaching him…” He leaned down to deliver that thought in a loud whisper, conscious of Rohan being distracted but not far away.

It wasn’t the first time she had been complimented, but such obvious admiration produced a curious lightheadedness that made it difficult to respond. An oddly pitched laugh escaped her before any words could. “I don’t know…”

“So you’re just painting stuff you can see?” Josuke’s line of sight travelled from the tree sketched on her canvas, to the real tree that stood some distance away. “I guess that’s cool, but eventually you’d run out of stuff…”

“Then we’d go somewhere else.” She hoped they wouldn’t be spending the whole time painting, though.

“Yeah, I guess… hang on!” His smile was blinding. “You could paint us! That’d be something you haven’t done before, right?”

Even if she had no idea what Rohan would say about it, she was having a hard time thinking of any reason to refuse. He was clearly occupied, and humans were examples of reality, weren’t they? They had interesting appearances and outfits, and… maybe she wouldn’t mind an excuse to look at Okuyasu for a while. Unaware she was smiling until it pulled at her cheek muscles, she nodded, sliding a fresh canvas onto the easel and preparing her sketching tools.

—

Okuyasu had never been painted before. He quickly discovered there was a lot he didn’t know about the experience- mainly, how much staring it involved. She was apparently painting both of them, but her eyes seemed to be on him constantly, following the outlines of his body at a glacial speed. Only the persistent scratching of pencil on paper kept him grounded in reality, and prevented him from getting too embarrassed.

His muscles were starting to cramp when she lowered her hand, letting them both know that they could take a break. Right away, he took the opportunity to stretch, arms flexing under his fairly tight sleeves. If he was still being watched, with a growing sense of admiration, he wasn’t aware of it.

“Hey!” As soon as he was done, he was leaning over the canvas, trying to get an upside-down glimpse of her progress. “Are you almost done?”

She shook her head. “This is only the first stage.” From what he could see, she was right- two human figures adorned the canvas, instantly recognisable from silhouette alone, but rough and lacking in most details. Curious about what their new acquaintance thought of him, his eyes lingered on his own likeness. There was a strong body, created with large, blocky shapes, but the faint lines of his eyes and mouth held a softer quality. Unconsciously seeking a comparison, his fingers drifted to his own lips for a moment.

“You like it?” At her question, he reluctantly tore his eyes away, resuming his previous position.

“Yeah, of course! I’m no art critic, but it’s awesome!” It almost didn’t seem fair that someone so pretty could have so much talent. If she wasn’t so kind, he would never forgive her… but didn’t being kind make it even worse? “So what’s the next stage?” 

She took a small paintbrush from a nearby pot of water, briefly pointing it at each of them. “I have to sketch out the scenery. Then, I’ll start shading in all the darkest bits before adding the rest of the colours.” Okuyasu nodded along with her, doing his best to appear thoughtful.

Whether it was her explanation, his earlier yelling, or just sheer coincidence that was responsible, no further words could be spoken before Rohan looked up and noticed what had been happening right across from him. “You’re still here? Go find something else to do, I’m not done teaching.”

“But-“ He gave them no chance to protest, shooing them away with persistence. Their smaller friend went with them, leaving just Rohan and his student at the table once again. Without even looking at it, he took her canvas and placed it with the others.

“That’s enough of that for now. We’ll go over the basics of manga.”

—

She worked hard all week, picking up new techniques and taking on new perspectives. Though none of it came naturally yet, she was already convinced that she had grown as an artist. She would have been happy to work on Sunday, but Rohan had refused, claiming he needed time to himself. Maybe that wasn’t so bad- she had barely been able to explore Morioh.

The neighbourhoods she wandered through were quiet and lightly populated, the exact opposite of the landscape she was used to navigating. It was surprising how much of a difference it made to be hearing birds chirping instead of trucks and sirens in the background. What was the best way to convey that noise through a drawing? Her notepad and pencils rest at the top of her bag, ready to be taken out at any time, but she kept searching for the perfect place alongside the near-empty roads.

As she circled back towards the city centre, the tranquility slowly faded, bird calls drowned out by laughter. But where was the laughter coming from? That was easy to identify- the teenagers on the other side of the street weren’t exactly being subtle about their joy. It only took one look for her to recognise them. After spending the time and effort to sketch them, they weren’t easily forgotten.

“Okuyasu! Josuke! Hi!” She waved, pleased when they not only waved back, but hurried across the road to greet her.

“Hey! What’s up?” Breathless and grinning, Okuyasu was the first to respond. “Rohan isn’t with you?”

“It’s my day off.” She gestured to the scenery before them. “I was just looking around.”

“Great!” Josuke seemed to exchange a glance with Okuyasu before continuing. “We were heading to Kameyu for some stuff, wanna come? Maybe we can hang out after.”

She didn’t really need anything, but it would be nice to have some company for a while. At the department store, Okuyasu accumulated several shopping bags, while Josuke’s purchases amounted to a few snacks. Chivalrously, he picked up a few of his friend’s bags, and she followed suit.

Their walk back to the neighbourhood was more of a stroll, with plenty of stops to show off some of Morioh’s landmarks to its visitor. She didn’t realise that she had been near-constantly laughing until their sudden arrival at Josuke’s house.

“Well, this was fun, but I gotta go. Mom needed me to fix something, could be a while.” Maybe it was her imagination, but it almost seemed like he and Okuyasu shared another quick look. Before she could be certain, he was hurrying away, and Okuyasu’s attention turned to her.

“I guess you’ll probably be going too?” He said it as if it was inevitable, but not something he was looking forward to. It made something in her chest flutter. Did he really want to keep spending time with her?

“I wasn’t planning on it. Even if you’re going, there’s some interesting stuff here.” Scanning the houses she could see, she picked one out to point at. “Like that one, I’d love to draw that one.” It was huge, but it looked abandoned- most of the windows were boarded up, which wasn’t stopping vines and bushes from growing out of most of them.

To her surprise, Okuyasu perked up, uttering a noise of disbelief. “No way, that’s my house! You should totally draw it!” Lifting his shopping bags onto his shoulders, he broke into a run directly towards the house, vaulting himself over the gate. Still carrying half his bags, she had little choice but to follow at a slower pace.

By the time she reached the house, he had opened the gate, and was holding the house’s door open even while she stood several feet away. His smile was so sweet that it was impossible not to smile back as she passed in front of him.

“Well, here it is!” Once he could close the door, he slipped back in front of her to guide her through the narrow halls. “Kind of a maze, but stick to places with lights on and you’ll be fine.”

Despite the house’s size, there wasn’t much in it. The furniture was minimal, and the few photos he saw scattered around were all of Okuyasu, Josuke, Koichi, or all three. “You don’t… live here alone, do you?” He was still in high school, but he was clearly handling all the shopping himself… it was a possibility, wasn’t it?

“Nah, my dad lives here too.” He gathered all the bags together, thanking her when she handed over what she had carried. “But he’s asleep. Doesn’t really like to be woken up.”

“Oh.” No one would interrupt their time together. She felt a little bad for being relieved. 

“Don’t worry about it.” There was still a smile on Okuyasu’s face. “You can draw whatever you want, I’ll just be in the kitchen. Got a new recipe to try!” So he was cute, kind, and a cook? Meeting him seemed luckier by the second.

Bringing out her pencils and notepad, she took a seat at the dinner table. “So, what are you making?”

She was no stranger to losing track of time, but it was still a shock to look out the window for the first time since their conversation started and realise how much the sky had darkened. Hours must have passed, but a quick once-over of her notepad revealed that it had barely been touched.

“Done!” She was startled once again by Okuyasu lifting a giant pot over his head, steam billowing out above them. “Just gotta put it on plates, then we can eat.”

“We? You mean… me as well?”

“Well… yeah?” He nodded a few times, slowed down by confusion. “I thought you’d be staying for dinner, kinda why I made so much. If you’ve gotta go, I can put some in a box, hang on-”

She interrupted midway through his reach for a kitchen drawer. “No, no, I want to stay!” Dinner or no dinner, she couldn’t say she was ready to leave. Everything she had learned about him only made her want to know more. “Want any help with the plates?”

“Nah, Tonio says I’m really good at it. Watch.” Armed with only a large fork and pair of tongs, he did fill each plate with spaghetti in record time, curling it up into a perfect spiral shape without spilling a drop of sauce. She couldn’t imagine how many times he must have practiced- it was a form of art in itself, despite his claims to have no talent in the field. He claimed to be talentless at most things, then went ahead and proved himself wrong again and again.

“Well, here you go! Hope you like it!” It took a moment for her to stop admiring his smile and start admiring the meal. After seeing it up close, and smelling it, her hopes were confirmed- the small chunks of meat present throughout the dish were chicken. Her favourite. He couldn’t have known… but she wasn’t sure if she believed in such coincidences.

She waited until he sat across from her to start. It seemed a shame to ruin the presentation of the plate, until she tasted it. Then she couldn’t get enough, only stopping to take advantage of the parmesan that he offered. He didn’t even feel the need to ask if she liked it. They were both too busy to talk much, but she had to stifle a laugh every time he slurped up a strand, and when he smiled afterwards.

The sound of him clearing his throat drew her attention away from the last few forkfuls she had been chasing around her plate. As the sun set, the kitchen’s dim light had done less and less to illuminate the corners of the room, creating the effect of a much closer space. “Hey…” His usually-enthusiastic voice was hushed, and had a soft quality that made her heart swell. “Thanks for being here. It was really great to hang out.”

Tossing her utensils aside, she practically leapt to grab his hands. “I should thank you for inviting me! I had a wonderful time!” Her smile was peaceful, but her eyes were shining. It was so nice to be close to him. He was sweet and understanding and warm, right down to the absolute core of him, in a way that she wasn’t sure she had seen before or would ever see again. They were right next to each other, and he didn’t seem to mind that, maybe she could…

Only an accidental glance out the window stopped her from kissing him, instead letting out a cry of dismay. How had she let it get so late? There was the bus she was supposed to catch, already at the stop. There was no way she would get out of the house and across the road in time.

“Hey… are you okay?” There didn’t seem to be much use, but Okuyasu sounded so sympathetic that she couldn’t help but explain her dilemma. Just having him there was already mildly comforting.

As he stood up, he took a gentle hold of her arm, tugging at it until she stood up too. “Come on. We’ll go get it.”

“Get it? But it’s already going to leave, we won’t…”

“We’ll catch up! Come on!” It was hard to refuse when he seemed so certain. After taking a second to gather her belongings, she let him take a firm grip of her hand, doing her best to keep up as he ran right out of the house. “All right!” He yelled as soon as they were across the street, waving his free hand in front of him in a wide sweeping motion…

And there they were, right in front of the bus’ closing door.

In a mild daze, she let Okuyasu guide her onto the bus without protest, and found a seat to sit in before she started thinking. They must have run fast enough to catch up to the bus, but why didn’t she remember half of it? She wasn’t usually someone who failed to pay attention to her surroundings, or forgot things right away.

All that she was certain of was that he had helped her in some way, and that was enough to keep her from worrying.

—

She was happy to say that she had learned from her mistake. After weeks of fun and learning, her final meeting with the friends she had made in Morioh took place right at the bus stop. None of them were happy to see her go, but they had exchanged addresses and phone numbers, and even discussed a potential visit next summer. Saying goodbye turned out to be a little easier, when they knew it wasn’t the end.

She had purposely saved a particular goodbye for last. Even if it had only been a few weeks, she had spent most of her free time with Okuyasu, learning and experiencing everything she could with him by her side. Standing there, she was certain of what she had known from the beginning: there was something special about him, or maybe just about the two of them together.

The way he was freely sobbing seemed to indicate he agreed, even if he was equally likely to express any emotion through sobbing. It was just barely possible to tell that his halting words were expressions of sorrow at her leaving, and implorations that she come back soon. Where words failed to comfort him, hugs seemed to help just a bit.

“You will come back, right? You’re not just saying that?” He was intelligible, which was an improvement.

“Of course! Here, take this.”

His face lit up with understanding when he recognised what he had been handed. A small canvas, still displaying the half-finished sketch of himself and Josuke. He hadn’t even expected her to keep it, much less give it to him. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure! This way, I have to come back to finish it, don’t I?” Her smile was bright, but if he had been able to look closely, he might have spotted a few tears struggling to escape. “So don’t worry. I’ll call every day, I’ll write, and I’ll come back as soon as I can. You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

He fell silent for a moment, then he was crying even harder, wrapping around her in a crushingly strong hug. “I’ll never forget about you either! I’ll call every day too! I promise!”

Only the arrival of the bus made them stop hugging, but they were waving at each other until they were out of sight, still together only in their hearts.

[artmutt]

10 Steps to Non-Recovery, or, How to Keep Making Art After Art School

(altered cigarette package by Matt Bodett)

The statistics bear it out.  Despite the high number of people who graduate from art schools or university art programs, the majority do not go on to have active careers as artists.  In part, this is the result of the fact that most art schools do very little to prepare students for the realities of a volatile art market and what students will need to know to survive in it.  (Most dental schools, for example, require students to learn basic accounting, so they’ll be able to manage an office one day.)

Yet beyond the realm of the bottom line, beyond the business and marketing and interpersonal skills that facilitate working as an artist, there is the larger question of how one can simply continue to produce work.  It is precisely in this area that most artists fall by the wayside.  One tells oneself that the office job is just a temporary solution, a way of facilitating one’s painting career, and the next thing you know, you’ve accepted a position as regional manager and haven’t set foot in your painting studio in ten years. The real trick, it seems, is less where your money is coming from and more about staying engaged with making art.

Several artists I know talk about their artmaking as their “art habit” or their “art addiction,” and with that image in mind, I wish to offer some thoughts about how one can avoid recovery from this particular addiction.  Since there are numerous twelve-step programs out there to help people recover from bad habits, I wish to offer some steps to help artists resist recovery, and help you maintain your addiction to making art. Whether or not you pay your rent by selling your paintings or by selling real estate, the real issue here is continuing to make “the work,” and how one does that.

 Step 1.  Obsess, Obsess, Obsess

 I’ve frequently encountered artists who say that they require a “deadline” or an assignment in order to make art.  My response is that they’re never going to be able to sustain a life-long career, because the world is not going to give them homework.  Typically, the people who continue to make art after school are the same people who made art before school.  These are the folks who develop a stomachache if they don’t spend time in their studio on a regular basis.  Indeed, if you aren’t really obsessed with making work, if art isn’t your passion as well as your career, chances are you won’t stay an artist. This has nothing to do with talent. There are lots of talented people who end up as real estate agents.  It’s really more a matter of the incredible number of discouraging factors that are out there, as well as the practical interferences of having to pay rent, raise children, etc.  As a result, if you aren’t obsessively driven to create work, you won’t stay an artist.

As a teacher, I often found instances of students with a lot of talent, who seemed to be able to toss off fairly brilliant stuff without much effort. On the other hand, I’d encounter students whose work wasn’t easily brilliant, but who really dug in and worked and struggled with an assignment.  I’m inclined to believe that the latter stand a better chance of lasting the long hall than the former.  “Talented” students, once removed from the strokes of the academy, easily fall by the wayside.  It’s the person for whom art is a compulsion who are most likely to stay in it for the long haul.

 Step 2:  Hang Out with Friends

 First off, ditch the drugged-out, drunken whiners that you used to hang around with, and focus your attention on the people whose own work and ideas and companionship inspire you.  These are the folks you want to hang out with.  People talk about “knowing somebody” or “being in the right place at the right time.”  Many of the major turning points and connections in my career came about just by getting together with friends.

 As an example: when I was in grad school, there was a woman in my Duchamp seminar class who seemed interesting and smart.  One day, after I’d moved to Chicago, I was attending some art openings with friends, and we ran into her.  Only now she was editor of the New Art Examiner, and she mentioned she was looking for writers.  A month later, I had my first review published in the Examiner; a year later, I was the Time Arts Editor. If I hadn’t been hanging out with friends, it wouldn’t have happened.

Another grad school friend used to run a gallery at SUNY Potsdam, and had me to come out as a guest artist.  You’ll eventually find more and more gigs fall in your lap because of the people you just hang out with.  On a cautionary level, if all your art buddies do is sit around and whine because no one is interested in their giant installation made out of cotton candy, maybe you should start thinking about moving in a different circle.  The wrong friends will discourage you from making art, the right friends will enable it.

 Step 3:  Keep Up

While you need to spend time in your studio, it’s also important to stay engaged with what’s going on in the art community.  If you aren’t out and about, attending exhibitions or openings, seeing people and talking to friends about your work, it’s easy for the rest of the world to forget about you.  You’ll find your artistic batteries get charged if you stay in touch with what’s happening in town.  The periodic trip to other art capitals (like New York or Los Angeles or Santa Fe) can also be inspiring.

 I’ve also found that going out and seeing what’s being shown can provide a kind of challenge.  Seeing an exhibit or performance that seems to be less “inspired” than the work you are doing can provide a kick-in-the-pants to get your own work out of the studio and into the world.  Don’t go home and mutter about the “crap” being exhibited: get your slides and resume together, and send it to a gallery, and prove how much better your stuff is!

 Step 4:  Read

 In addition to keeping up with what’s being shown in town, it’s also good to read about the current artworld on a regular basis.  Visit the local library or bookstore, and cruise the art section periodically. Yeah, sure, you look at things online, but it’s better to pick up a book now and then. You should also subscribe to the national art rags and do more than look at the pictures.

Just as when you go out to the galleries, even if you don’t like the art being talked about in Artforum, you need to know what’s new and what’s being said about it, so as to articulate where you stand relative to the current trends.  If your press packet can quote recent critical essays to either back up or provide counterpoint to your ideas, you’ll come across as savvy and engaged.

Step 5:  Document Constantly

 Real artists are constantly documenting their work.  This means documenting work as soon as it’s finished, and sometimes even while it’s in progress.  (You might create a great lecture about your artistic process if you can show a piece as it develops.  And those photos will come in handy when Abrams publishes your catalogue raisonné.)

There are lots of simple steps to follow to take your own slides and photos of your work, but if you don’t feel at home with a camera, then hire someone who does.  This might be an art buddy (who’s willing to work for dinner and a couple of beers) or you may need to spend real money on a real photographer.  Considering that most gallery exhibits and grant applications will be assessing your work entirely on the basis of documentation, it’s the best investment an artist can make in his or her work.  Moreover, sitting down and looking at a bunch of slides of your work can give you a sense of order and direction that you might not have sitting in your studio with the actual stuff.

 I also encourage artists to write about their work on a regular basis. Some folks are naturally inclined to keep journals and sketchbooks, where they reflect on their ideas and processes.  Just as it’s important to document the actual work (and its process) in photos, it’s valuable to keep notes on your ideas and concerns while working.  Besides, getting yourself in the habit of writing about your work on a regular basis can be immensely helpful when you are asked to provide an “artist statement” for a grant application or exhibition.  You might be surprised by how effective this can be. For example, even if you simply made notes every day about things you were seeing and interested in (say, the birds outside your window), after six months you might review those notes and write, “While working on my most recent paintings, I found myself fascinated by birds: their energy, their shapes, their coloration.”  Like other aspects of being an artist, this process works best when its something you do automatically.

Step 6: Do New Things

The great danger of being a professional artist is that you develop a “style” or subject matter interest while in graduate school, and spend the next 60 years doing that same thing over and over and over again. (Especially if you are successful early in your career, it’s a temptation.)  Unfortunately, if you just keep doing the same thing, you never grow as an artist, nor as a human being.  (A recent study showed that the people who lived longest had at least 4 different careers in their lives: what kept them young was constantly having to face new challenges.)

We all know examples of artists who get stuck in a groove.  (Just go out and buy the latest Philip Glass CD: you’ll find it virtually indistinguishable from the last 6.)  But the most interesting artists try new things: new techniques, new styles, new processes.  (For example, Steve Reich’s recent music is considerably different from his work of 15 years ago: compare “Drumming” from the early ‘70s with “City Life,” from 1997.) If you’ve been painting for 10 years, you might find a pottery or sculpture class will send you in a whole new direction.  You might want to do some creative writing or play some music to expand your range of ideas. (The students I teach in the Interdisciplinary Arts Department at Columbia College are often people who correctly sense there are ideas in other disciplines that will enhance their primary discipline.)

You can expand this beyond art as well.  Try traveling.  Take a class in philosophy or ancient history.  Put in a garden in your backyard.  You may find that this new activity will enrich and inspire your artmaking and lengthen your life.

Step 7:  Live in the Real World

There was an Adam Green cartoon a few years back in the New Art Examiner, where an artist was arguing about whether his work was becoming too hermetic and inaccessible.  The joke was, he was having this argument with a sock puppet on his own hand.  It’s funny because it’s painfully true: while you need to obsessively work in your studio, you also need to have frequent reality checks that keep you and your artwork turned outward to the world at large.

Too many artists become self-absorbed in their studio, to the point where they are boring themselves, much less the art-loving public.  I’ve also found that artists who are married to someone who is not an artist often seem to be better at keeping their work outward oriented, in part because they’re engaged in an ongoing dialogue with a non-artist about what they’re doing and why.  A job in the real world, far from being a distraction to an art career, can sometimes keep it on track.

Having friends who are non-artists is also helpful, especially if you don’t “closet” your artistic self.  Invite your co-workers from the bank to stop by your studio.  They’ll find it fun to journey beyond the confines of the office, and non-artists often see things in your work that no artist will see.  You won’t get a professional critique from a real estate agent, but they may tell you things no curator would about how comprehensible your work is to someone outside the profession.  And that can be incredibly valuable.

Artists should also live in the world of their own community.  Get to know your neighbors.  Offer to help the neighborhood kids create an art project for your block.  Vote in the city election, and get to know your local alderman.  Read more than the art section of the daily newspaper. You’ll find that if your heart and mind are engaged with other people and real world issues, it’s difficult to make art that isn’t also engaged with those things.  Which is just as it should be.

 Step 8:  Volunteer

Closely related to Step 7, many artists find themselves re-invigorated by volunteering time to their local non-profit arts organization.  Sharing your expertise with other artists by being part of a board or committee project can introduce you to new people, stimulate your thinking, as well as involving you in the art community.  And frankly, there are lots of other worthy causes that make use of volunteers, such as AIDS service organizations, who are always looking for help.  The few hours a week you might be stealing from your studio time can often be repaid by the emotional and spiritual benefits, and you can also make the world a better place.

Step 9:  Teach a Class

Many artists teach as a way of making a living, and many then find it a struggle to make time for their own art.  (The adage probably should be “Those who teach don’t have time to do.”) However, for artists who do not make teaching their primary career, occasionally teaching a class can be both clarifying and enlightening.  Not only is it valuable to talk to others about techniques that you might take for granted, but often students will take an assignment in such totally unexpected directions that you stand back and go, “Wow!  How did you get that from what I told you?”  It can be very inspiring to see how your ideas are played out by others. I have often found student work so unexpected and surprising that it has challenged me to go back to my studio and make my own work in new ways.

 Step 10:  Know When to Take a Break

 All lives require balance.  Just as Step 1 encouraged you to stay focused on your work, it’s also possible to get stuck in a rut sometimes because you’re spending too much time obsessing over your art. Vacations from your work can often be invigorating opportunities to think and reflect without the pressure of immediately producing something.  In the late 1980s, I took a year-long sabbatical from making new work.  I felt I had reached closure on a particular body of work, and needed to re-think my goals and techniques as an artist.  I still put older work out into the world, but that year of reflection eventually provided a springboard into a large body of new work, which pushed in new and unanticipated directions.

In a letter he wrote in 1904, the poet Rainer Maria Rilke said that our periods of greatest creativity are the final resonance from our moments of doing nothing.  Brian Eno put together a set of Oblique Strategies for artists to use when they’re stuck about how to move forward. My favorite is: “Go outside. Close the door.”

This was originally written 20 years ago, when I was the editor of Chicago Artists’ News. For “slides,” now read “digital images.” I cleaned up a few other anachronisms before this posting. If I remember correctly, I wrote this for the News because an article I was expecting to run didn’t come in, and I had to sit down a couple of hours before deadline and fill a page with something.

[strangeremembrances]

Is the film as good as the book Megan? 🙏

WORLDS COLLIDE! Hannah! 

Oh god, this is a question. I have a free evening so you’re getting my full attention and I’m always in the mood to talk CMBYN and unleash my ridiculous love so here goes!

First off, I will try not to be spoilery…. BUT THIS IS HUGE AND I HAVE OFFICIALLY GONE INTO HEART EYES MODE BUT HERE IS MY OVERVIEW.

I have loved the novel for so many years that it holds such a special and important significant for me so that’s difficult to compare anything to. I was 19 when I first read the novel and I’m nearly 29 now so that’s nearly 10 years of adoration….

That’s why I was terribly nervous when I heard they were making a movie. That kind of changed when I saw Armie’s instagram wayyyyyyyy back when in January 2017 around the same time as Sundance and he tagged it #billowyblueshirt - I pretty much lost my mind!!! I mean, THAT IS OLIVER. That’s how I pictured him  (minus baby Harper of course!). He was a little younger looking in my head but Armie looked SO MUCH like the Oliver in my mind.

And then this came out:

I was so stunned because I didn’t really know much about Timmy. I recognised him from Homeland but that was it and yet, he looked like Elio. Again - I had the same response! He looked like the Elio I’d imagined in my head and that tiny clip made me so excited. It still didn’t stop me from being nervous as you can’t get much from a little clip but by the time the main trailer came out, I was BEYOND excited because so much of what I’d imagined was in front of me and so close to how I’d always pictured in my mind. Plus, the shots were so pretty and almost art house that it didn’t feel like they’d cheapened it or gone for the obvious adaption they so easily could have. 

The trailer I first saw was this one:

I swear to you, the moment I saw the part where Elio says “listen, when the time comes, this is how he’ll say goodbye to us…Later”, I stopped being nervous. Completely. That scene still kills me.

I desperately tried to get tickets to the BFI screenings but they sold out so I could only see the movie opening night in the UK on 27 October but it was one of my favourite and one of the most memorable cinema experiences I’ve ever had, second to possibly seeing Titanic when I was a kid.

Yes, there are parts of the book that I wish were in there that sadly didn’t make the cut. I made a post about that ages ago. I have a tag on here that has all my ramblings under (HERE!) but I think I talked about that. 

Does it have some flaws? Of course! There are a few editing moments that I thin would make non-novel readers unsure and some of the dialogue remains unexplained… unlike in the novel but I do wonder whether some of that is by choice to allow the viewers the ability to make up their own mind. I am definitely able to cast a critical eye but I am so fond of the movie as a whole and a novel!fan that I can’t help but be overly descriptive and gushy haha. It’s a marmite kind of thing for many and none of the characters are perfect in the book or movie but that’s what I love. They just happen to be fascinating and interesting to me.

SO NOW FOR THE RAMBLING……

The movie is different from the novel. There is about 1/3 of the novel in the movie. The entirety of Ghost Spots is gone. Most of San Clemente Syndrome is also gone. But yet the movie doesn’t suffer because of it. Luca has talked endlessly (and oh god i have wanted every single interview he’s done for this movie, I’m sure. I’m sure an admirer) about his decisions for the movie and one of the big ones is that he wanted the audience to grow with Elio. He didn’t want the novel’s reflective nature or the Proustian thing clouding the audience’s judgement of what was happening. He didn’t want voice overs or a narrator and, in my view, it is HANDS DOWN the best thing he did. You experience EVERY SINGLE MOMENT with Elio. From start to finish, you’re with him during his summer and you disappear. The movie is so immersive and beautiful for that, I’m so grateful to him. 

PLEASE GO SEE THE MOVIE IN A CINEMA. That’s the best advice I can give. I hope it’s showing in the UK still where you are. Just take that time out and go see it. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is. From the second the credits start (and i swear, they’re some iconic bloody credits. The second I hear Hallelujah Junction *goosebumps*) it’s just the kind of movie that lifts you out of your life, drops you into Italy in the Summer and you spend every moment experiencing every second with these characters.

As for the comparison of the characters in the novel to those on screen. THIS IS WHERE I GET EMOTIONAL. Elio. Oh Elio Perlman is my sweetheart. The first time I read the book, I got him. He taught me so much about being brave. But novel!Elio is DRAMATIC as I’m sure you’re aware if you’ve read the book. He is hormonal and ridiculous and weird as hell. He’s so OTT and it the world’s most unreliable narrator so to play THAT right is just the most difficult task and it was what I was most frightened of. Let me tell you…. everything, EVERYTHING, that critics said about Timmy’s acting and his portrayal of Elio is spot on. It is one of my favourite piece of acting I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. All of those Elio thoughts and feelings in the novel, all the internalisation and the intense thoughts he has… getting that across is a TASK and you read them all on Timmy’s face. I can’t even list them. It’s every damn scene. Moments of note are the dinner table scene where Oliver doesn’t show up. I even made a post of this because it stunned me to much (HERE!). The scene in Mr P’s office when Oliver’s showing off about his apricot knowledge and novel readers know that Elio is already enamoured and thinking filthy thoughts…. it’s ALL THERE on Timmy’s face. I could go on and on and on about him and how he quite frankly blew my mind but the main thing I keep coming back to is that movie!Elio is a JOY. He is an absolute delight to behold. Novel!Elio is so intense and because you’re inside his mind, it’s difficult to see him the way the world does. Movie!Elio is so lovely. He’s every bit as intense and kind of difficult and bold and hormonal as novel!Elio but he’s also light and fun and playful and SWEET. He’s EXTREMELY SWEET. There are some tiny little moments that are so effervescent and make me smile so much because Elio sparkles on screen. He dances and shimmies and lazes about, he touches everything in sight, he climbs Oliver like a tree, he smiles and argues and fusses and swoons and is just PERFECTION. I’m not going to go on and on because I’d spoil stuff…. the ending thought. The very final 2 seconds of the movie are forever etched into my brain. 

As for the movie itself. It’s blissful. The cinematography is breathtaking. You feel part of the home and the landscape and Luca’s heart is in every frame. It’s like a painting. The music is wonderful and fills every scene with nostalgia and this sense that the Perlman’s are effortlessly cultured. The editing AHHHHH. GOD. There are some editing choices that I could kiss Walter Fasano for. It has an arthouse feel (MY FAVOURITE), and is SO LONG. It’s a very long movie and that was the biggest treat. There are directorial choices that I want to cuddle Luca for, namely how certain scenes are framed - especially the nosebleed scene and the entire MIDNIGHT sequence. That sequence is long and drawn out but constructed with little details so beautifully.

The other characters are so RICH and I was devastated to let them go when the movie ended. Annella is so much more than in the novel and I adore her. Marzia is WONDERFUL. Mafalda is every bit as sassy and great as the novel even if her part is smaller. But the VP is Mr Perlman. Reading the novel, anyone will remember and feel moved by his speech to Elio about life and love and letting yourself experience life: good and bad. The movie version moves me to tears from start to finish, every single time I see it. Mr Perlman is a GIFT in this movie. Every single character was so real and warm and the family moments are some of my favourites from movie.

Finally, the chemistry. Everyone has chemistry with EVERYONE. Notably, Elio and his parents. The level of affection in this movie is off the charts. Everyone hugs and kisses and cuddles and touches and it’s the most refreshing thing. But obviously the chemistry everyone wants is between Oliver and Elio and it’s so natural and almost unstaged (especially the midnight scenes) that I was speechless. They are wonderful together. It’s so clear that Timmy and Armie became friends. They shot the movie chronologically and much of the way the movie developed and occurred was how Timmy and Armie met and became friends. Watch any interview… haha. They are special on screen together.

My absolute FAVOURITE thing though is how the movie is so thin on dialogue. Compared to most movies, it is sparce and treats the audience intelligently because so many of the BIG moments are simple and delivered through nuanced acting (specifically by Timmy and notable by Armie in the goodbye portion of the movie). There’s no exposition, very little emotional talk as it is SHOWN and that is hands down the reason this movie resonated with me so well because that’s what I wanted from an adaption of the book. I didn’t want Elio TELLING us, I wanted to see it. And you do. VERY WELL.

So yeah, ESSAY DONE. I could ramble on and on. I truly ADORE the movie. It is up there with my all time favourites and I said after seeing it for the first time, that gratitude is the overwhelming thing I felt when I walked out of the cinema and after I’d picked my broken heart up off the floor…. my feelings haven’t changed.

If Luca sticks by his intention on sequels to follow Elio’s life, well I’m on board. I’d have NEVER said that last year. I’d have never wanted anyone to touch the novel or expand on the novel for a second. But I trust Luca. I’m pretty much a bloody disciple at this point hahaha. I fell head over heels for these characters and I don’t want to never see them again - especially Elio. Once you’ve seen Timmy’s Elio, I’d defy anyone to NOT want more.

So, in summary. THE MOVIE IS MAGICAL. It is different from the novel in some areas, in some it brings to life the pivotal moments in the first portion of the novel and although it misses out some of my most cherished portions of the novel, in my view, the movies doesn’t suffer for it. I hold them both dear for different reasons and they compliment one another in the loveliest way! <3

[artdjgblog]

​Innerview: Richard Noggle / ​Larryville Life ​Feb. 2012​

Image: DJG (via Michael Bay action film generator)

Note: Questions on art and a forthcoming exhibition.​

01) Can you give us a general sense of your style and techniques as an artist?  And who are your influences?  And could you please incorporate one of those "my work is like _________ meets ___________" comparisons that critics love so much?

My style typically consists of whatever mood/feeling I'm in or whatever sorts of things I've got to work with around me. I guess there are some consistencies as I keep coming back to found objects, collage, scribbles and junk. Range of like-minded artistic kin stretch from my grandma to folk art to Henryk Tomaszewski to Seymour Chwast to Ray Johnson to Basquiat to Saul Steinberg and even Pee-wee Herman, Dr. Demento and Jim Henson. Daily influences include a mixture of intuition, conversation, observation, humor, stains on teeth, animals, anxiety, faith, layered language, worlds interacting with worlds, things that look better weathered, markings on pavement and beyond blah-blah. I watch a lot of movies too. It's hard answering the "comparisons" question as I'm not always on the outside looking in. What do you think? I've had some people compare the found object work to Robert Rauschenberg. That's a pretty tall order though. I never really think about that stuff. Steve Brisendine of Art KC 365 kindly put me at, "He isn’t just in touch with his inner child; the two of them must hang out on a regular basis, playing with scissors, magazines and construction paper…Some of his creations…are meticulously assembled. Others look as though they were fueled by half a box of frosted cereal, washed down with a two-liter bottle of something sugary and caffeinated." Can I just say, "My work is like the Garbage Pail Kids meets Ren & Stimpy."?   02) Your newest First Friday exhibition in KC is titled "Mouth Breathing at the Wick to the Apocalypse."  What is the show about and is it going to convince us (or convince us even further) that the world is ending in 2012? I was actually quite anxious titling it this, but I kept coming back to it/it kept coming back to me. And it extends further than just the 2012 stuff. There's a lot to chew on and this title just works for the times and within my own body of work. It's definitely a conversation stimulator. The following is what I wrote for Chad Thomas Johnston's web site (@Saint_Upid). Actually, this one was slightly revised for my own blog: Every living thing has a date of expiration. When that date comes, I believe, is in much bigger hands…as well as with a personal healthy dose of daily walk and decision. And Lord knows we’re all trying to put the wicks out to something we have to face, large or small, Earth or individual. We love to control, alter, even bring about more things in the process. Let’s all truly breathe and make space instead of picking up the pace and filling up out pants. Put the hand to the mouth…you’re still breathing. All of this also goes towards those who stand around waiting for things to happen on an individual level. I don’t know, life is about balance. I struggle every day. People are so focused on 2012 predictions and doom ‘n’ gloom when life is still in the now. For those wishing to sidestep the recent holiday cheer, there was even an “Armageddon Week” during Christmas on the History Channel. Yeah, fascinating, but let’s not over do it. If this is our last official year, then let’s just take one long holiday! Who knows? I don’t think any man truly does. But, when that day comes we will be there with the cameras rolling, breathing heavily, awaiting to capture and recapture a thing that we’ll either be too dead to see or won’t have the grid or battery power to reconnect with. Let’s find the art and beauty in the rubble that is the now. This all sort of fits into my exhibition title “Mouth Breathing at the Wick to the Apocalypse.” It also just speaks for the body of work I’ve been creating the past year, perhaps many years. I don’t aim to alarm or hoover heavily. If anything, the spirit in the art is quite jovial and optimistic. Per usual, I want people to have a soak and smile. Some of the ideas initialized in a 2002 sketchbook I did as a janitor as well as writings over the past half decade. In the end, it just has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? 03) We've been examining some of your pieces over at the gallery on @Saint_Upid's site and Chip, quite frankly, doesn't "get" some of it.  Can you explain that Fox Food 2/ bunny piece to him? I've been saving up each week's grocery store ad papers. I like to cut out the meat and various food chunks and make animals. I've got a fox and a rabbit. The fox is titled "Fox Food No. 1" and the rabbit is "Fox Food No. 2." So, eventually the rabbit gets eaten by the fox. Get it? 04) What other projects do you have in store for what may well be the last year of humanity's existence as we know it? I made a life-size bison (on paper) outlined in grocery store meat ads and splattered with coffee. He'll be at the exhibition hiding in a corner. I've also got a snake on a board made out of chewed up Dubble Bubble. My jaw is kind of sore this week. I think that's it for the gum art. There will be a few others in the show too. Other projects in the coming months? Well, I'd like to knock out another music video this year. I'm trying my hand and patience at stop motion animation. Emphasis on "trying." I'd like to have a 2nd exhibition at 1819 Central this year. I'm thinking of doing a photography show, but I'll just see what art I make between now and the fall. Ultimately, I'd like to make some money on this art thing. We'll see. I'll also have a piece in the forthcoming Middle of the Map Fest art show in April. I still need to make that one. 05) We know you are a huge movie buff, since we talk movies with you on Twitter quite often.  What's the best off-the-beaten-path film that you've watched recently that our readers should see and then talk pompously about at the Pig while  pretending like they discovered it themselves? Uh, Transformers? I watched that and Take Shelter recently. Michael Shannon could destroy a Transformer by staring at it...sure to be an Academy Award favorite. 06) When are you going to make a Larryville visit and drink a PBR with us? I don't have the street cred to call it Larryville just yet, but maybe I will after I come hang with you guys? Lawrence used to be a short hop, skip and a jump traveling to concerts in my youth. It helped that I rarely drove then. At 33, Lawrence seems so far away from Kansas City. One of these days though... 07) Bonus Round--Do you have a favorite show from your Lawrence concert-going days? Some of my most well-lit memories of Lawrence concerts would be the "game day" excitement building up to and then wedging in-between band equipment in the Elevator Division van. I was their live-in art director and it was a treat to tag along. It was an adventure on the road as well as lurking in the shadows of the Bottleneck, Replay and Granada. The sleep on the ride home was the best I'd get. Those trips would destroy me now. My most memorable concert moment in Lawrence would have to be meeting Elliott Smith in the Granada back alley after his show. We shook hands and both said, "Thanks." at the same time. Also in the alley were The Flaming Lips who happened to be in town, and previously on stage performing "Don't Fear the Reaper" with Elliott. What a way to end it. I was sad the day Elliott smith passed away and still am. Oh yeah...before that show my eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the indoor lighting and I waved an excited hi to some old friends upon entering the venue and immediately tripped over two people sitting on the floor. Another high ranking concert moment was seeing The Sleepy Jackson open for The Polyphonic Spree at Liberty Hall. I had no idea who they were and they completely blew me away. 08) How familiar are you with the Lawrence art scene these days?  Any favorite artists working in our fair city? I'm a tad familiar with the Lawrence art scene. Notably, those running/making art at Wonder Fair. Great guys/great artists. I need to get out to Lawrence more often these days. I enjoy your fine city. Though, being a Missouri boy you may have to check my MU Tiger fan badge at the Lawrence border. 09) We've noticed that KC has a strange new event called Hot Tub dialogues, in which the audiences pays to watch artists sit around talking about art in a hot tub.  Would you don your bathing suit to participate in such shenanigans? This is new news to me! And weird at that! Especially the audience pay part. I don't think I'd be up for such an event unless said hot tub was a time machine. I'm also a bit of a nevernude and still barely sticking my toes in the Kansas City art pool as it is! 10) There's a very controversial public art event currently generating a lot of controversy in Lawrence. Lice chickens will be exhibited for a month in spots around town, letting people "get to know them, the they'll be killed and cooked for a community project at Percolator art gallery? What are your initial thoughts on this project? Like the hot tub talk, this is weird and new local art news to me! I really am out of the loop/pool. Growing up on a farm in rural Missouri, I knew many of my animals before they were butchered. I guess, like anything, it's a matter of public opinion. If you're not comfortable with it, then don't attend/support? Is this commentary on the whole local/get to know your food and where it comes from thing? Very interesting. I don't quite understand the need to make it into a public art event. Seems like something destined ftp stir the poultry pot, so to speak! I guess I need to know more about this. Thanks! -djg  

[youcancallmecirce]

ChloNath Week Day 3: Art

Each day’s drabble follows chronologically from the one preceding it.

Nathanaël stepped back to view his project from a distance, then began to pace around it with a critical eye, looking for flaws. Sculpture was not his favorite medium, but his professor wanted a sculpture and so a sculpture she would have.

At least he’d had a great deal of control over his execution of the project. Some professors were far too narrow in the scope of their assignments; this one was kind enough (or wise enough) to leave the bulk of the decisions to her students.  Her only requirement had been that it must contain movement, and even then, she had refused to clarify that statement at all.  Some of his classmates had freaked out at the lack of structure, but Nathanaël was in heaven.

He’d chosen to create an optical illusion—it was entirely stationary, but gave the appearance of movement if the viewer moved.  It had been a bitch to design, and an even bigger bitch to actually make, but the result was well worth the effort.  He circled it again once more, and nodded to himself in satisfaction.  It was done. Finally.

He wheeled it into his assigned storage closet and locked up, grabbed his keys and jacket from the worktable without breaking his stride, and hit the lights.  As he walked up the hall, he pulled his phone out to shoot a text to the guys. He sent it off with a smile, already looking forward to kicking back with a few drinks, and looked up just in time to meet a familiar pair of blue eyes.  He blinked.  He’d seen her in passing several times over the last few weeks, but they hadn’t spoken since that day in the café . 

“Chloe?  What are you doing here?”  Her eyes widened in…was that panic?  He frowned, wondering what she could possibly be doing in the art building at this hour.  Their art history class had ended hours ago, and wasn’t scheduled to meet again for two more days.  “Is everything ok?”

“Everything is fine, tomato-head,” she snapped, her eyes narrowed in disdain.  “I was just…walking through.”

“Through to where?”  He glanced behind him to the blank wall at the end of the hall and looked back at her with raised brows.  “I think there’s an emergency exit back there somewhere, but there’s nothing behind this building.”

“Ugh, fine.  I was looking for you.”  She blushed, and suddenly seemed to find something fascinating in her manicure.

“Looking…for me?”  He blinked again, and felt his smile working its way back to his face.  “What, did you need something for class?”

“N—yes!”  Her manicure now forgotten, she put her hand to her cocked hip and tipped her chin up in challenge.  “Do you have the notes from today’s lecture?  I, er, spilled tomato juice on mine.”

Nathanaël choked on his laugh, and attempted to cover it with a cough.  Her eyes narrowed but she let it go, and he figured that he would, too. “Ah.  Well then.  I just finished a project, and was about to go and grab something to eat.  Would you want to come with me?  We could talk over the lecture, and then if you still needed them, we could grab my notes from the dorm.”

Her eyes lit as he spoke, and he found himself distracted.  Who knew that her eyes could be so damned lovely, when they sparked with interest rather than malice?

“Project?  Like, an art project?”

“Uh, yeah.”  He cleared his throat and subtly shook himself.  “My sculpture.  Did you, uh, want to see it?”

“Can I?”

“Sure.  It’s just in here.”  He turned and led the way back into the room he’d just left, and flipped the lights back on. “I don’t usually like sculpture, but I’m actually pretty pleased with this one.”

She was surprisingly quiet as she followed him.  More surprising was that she waited patiently while he unlocked the door and pulled his creation out on its wheeled base.  He stepped to the side so that she could look at it, and allowed himself to watch her face in turn.  

“What the hell is it?”  She frowned, looking confused and a little disappointed at first.   Then she stepped closer saw what they were, and her expression cleared.  “Bees?”

“Bees,” he confirmed, leaning his hips against his work table and resting the heels of his hands on the edge.

She nodded and shifted to the side, then gasped when she realized its secret.  “It moves!”

“No.”  He smiled, enjoying her reaction. “It doesn’t move, but it gives that illusion if you do.”

She began to walk around it in much the same way he had done earlier, her eyes wide and her mouth split in a genuine smile.  “This is incredible.”  Then it hit her that she’d offered a compliment, and scrambled to back-track.  “I mean, if you’re into bugs.  Why bees, anyway?”

“Because until recently, they defied explanation.”  He gestured to the wing.  “For a long time, scientists couldn’t figure out how a bee’s small, flimsy wings could support its comparatively large body in flight.  They did finally figure it out, but I thought it was fascinating that something as simple as the flight of a bee could turn out to be so complex.”

“You really are a giant dork, aren’t you?”  A bit of her usual attitude had crept back into her tone, but it had none of the bite that it usually did.  She returned her eyes to the carefully sculptured swarm, and continued to move around it, now studiously avoiding him.  

He grinned, recognizing it for the victory it was.  “So, did you want to go grab something to eat?”  

“Yeah, I guess we could do that.”  She straightened, and stepped away to allow him to return it to its closet.  

He locked up, and gestured for her to precede him to the door.  “To discuss the lecture today, right?”  

She shot a narrow-eyed look at him from over her shoulder.  “Of course. What else?”

He shut the lights of with a chuckle.

[shirohibiki]

@where-fading-princesses-live​

responses to your lovely comments!! thank you so much for being so sweet and writing such an in-depth response ;A; it’s really kind of you and it makes me very happy!!!! responses under the cut <3333

-FINALLY finished it, yay, sorry it took so long!

no apologies SHUSH UR FACE YOU DIDNT EVEN HAVE TO READ IT

-Once again your prose is amazing, the way you describe the Christmas party down to the very last detail is nothing short of astounding.

GAH THANK YOU////// tbh i feel like my descriptions are really lackluster but thank you very much ;;;;;;;;

-Sandy in gold eye shadow and purple lipstick, hell yes <3

agree <3

-Plabs moment?

kinda!! i’m considering having them either together or like... sort of exploring their relationship in my AU. karen and plankton are finally divorced and she’s going to find someone so much better for her. so yeah i’m not completely sure what i’ll do yet

-I really love that you touch on Sandy’s daredevil side, it really is her character flaw. Often times she’s having so much fun taking huge risks in her reckless adventure seeking that she doesn’t always see the irrationality in it.

yes, and also blinded by her desire for her friend to be happy... she’s wanted to do some risky things XD she’s like “NOW KISS....” she’s a BAD GIRL

-I absolutely adore this passage: Squidward’s mind went completely blank, any and all thoughts evaporating instantly. His entire body went rigid and the wind was knocked from his lungs. He didn’t return the kiss – the world around him had disintegrated and he was lost in a sea of nothingness. Time ceased to exist. Was he dreaming? Had he himself gotten drunk and passed out? Where even was he? What was he doing? Who was with him? Who was… What was…

It perfectly sums up all the mixed emotions of someone’s first kiss, or at least someone’s first meaningful kiss. It’s usually more confusing than pleasing.

i can’t even remember my first kiss so i can’t say for certain, but definitely if it’s an unexpected kiss heh. thank you <3

-The kiss was very hot btw, oh Lordy Lord, I think I sweated a little. O///O

i’m so glad!!! i was hoping it was hot enough so i’m happy you think so :D

-You jump into Squidward’s mind fairly well. I love all the oxymorons, such as delight displeasure to really emphasize the apparent contradictions that are racing through his mind. And the pacing’s really nice.

!!!! THANK YOU!! i’m always nervous about writing him bc i feel like it’s not my forte, but it is getting a little easier as time goes on. it’s great to hear that my pacing is okay!! i worry a lot about everything so the reassurance is nice dkjghdfghfh

-Drunk SpongeBob flirting with lamps. I’m sorry, I’m dead. XD

Spongebob slings an arm around the lamp, a grin on his face. “You come here often, miss?” He slurs, swaying a little with with it. “You got a real pretty dress on...” As if it weren’t bad enough that he was flirting with a lamp, he dares to take a peek up the lampshade and giggles drunkenly. “Ooops~... ’M real sorry, miss, I accidentally saw yer... Heehee... Hope y’don’t mind~...” He seriously looks about ready to start making out with that lamp. Sandy watches the show, guffawing with each advance Spongebob makes. Patrick cheers him on, and Squidward looks on, dumbfounded. This wasn’t the first time, but it honestly shocks him each time. He could only wonder what that piece of furniture looked like to Drunk Spongebob.

-Love this part: Time to wash away the impurity and the sin! Because that’s why we all take showers, right?

not me! i could never wash it away so i don’t bother 8)

-His little breakdown is perfect. I hate to see Squidward suffer and yet at the same time it’s so fitting, and it’s really his emotional investment, it gets us, the readers, on his side, blim blam.

i love his tears. i mean they make me sad but i love them at the same time. Delicious. thank you ;v;

-I like how you touch on Squidward’s loneliness, and the idea of him being without physical love for such a long time that he’s literally deprived, and of course SpongeBob being virtually the only one in Bikini Bottom who loves him the most, it’s funny how he puts up those walls and pushes him away, and yet he could easily take SponbeBob’s love for granted. Deep down, I always regarded Squidward a hopeless romantic.

he is a hopeless romantic. absolutely. it’s displayed multiple times in the show -- it just takes him actually WANTING to date the person first. and i think he does take spongebob’s love for granted in some way even if he “Hates” it... without it, perhaps he’d feel even MORE lonely and he just doesn’t realize that. because something he was used to wouldn’t be there anymore. just a thought :V

-I love the little Mr. Krabs/SpongeBob father-son moment. When Mr. Krabs isn’t tunnel-visioned over money, he can be a great voice of reason. It was just really sweet and cute, and so organic rather than contrived.

i like krabs and bobby father-son moments c: i like to think of mr krabs as kinder and more in-tune with spongebob and more willing to give him advice and help him out.

- Ironically, Spongebob reminded Squidward of himself

Personally, I always felt that too. One of my headcanons is that SpongeBob is like Squidward’s former self, how he used to be before he lost his innocence and became disillusioned by how life didn’t turn out how he anticipated. Sometimes we don’t like people because they reflect certain qualities in ourselves that we disprove of. And then there’s the Looking Glass Self theory, how we think others perceive us compared to how we perceive ourselves, so I like that you have the same fan theory as me about why Squidward ‘’pretends’’ to abhor SpongeBob, mainly because he possesses the youth and happiness he once had. Also the backstory with Squilliam, I always imagined that too.

yes indeed! they’re far more alike than squidward likes to admit or realize -- even now, they do actually have some interests in common whether it’s books or art or whatever else. someday he’ll acknowledge that <3

-I hate seeing Squidward so tortured over this, and as I keep reading, knowing it’s going to have a cliffhanger and no absolute closure till your next fic, I want nothing more right now for them to just end up together and be happy. I love how you get us to root for them by playing this cat and mouse game. Writers should always leave the readers wanting more, and I must say you succeed in that department.

HHHGHGHG idk if there will even be closure in the next one haha (if i ever finish it)i have too much fun torturing him,,,,i do really want them happy and together but i also love the chasing. i’m glad i’m able to make it interesting enouhvh ;v; now god give me strength to finish the next...

-I like the scene in the music store. You write character interactions really well. And the Julien guy is quite a character.

thank you!!!! //// it’s so nice to hear these things kjdfgdf <33333 and i’m glad you like him haha. he cares about squiddy. <3

- Overall, you’re a very good writer and I love how this ended, and I seriously can’t wait for your next fic!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-My only criticism for this piece was that there were minor grammar errors, and some occasions where you switch back and forth between active and passive voice, and if you ever need a proofreader in the future, I’d be more than happy to proofread for you. :)

-I just loved the emotional charge of this story, how it was more focused on the psychology of the characters. I always find stories like these more fascinating and deep.

feel free to let me know what i did wrong! i’m curious to know what areas need work!

-Otherwise, I enjoyed this piece very much, and apologies it took so long for me to finish!

YOU ARE THE SWEETEST STOP IT <33333 THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU YOUR WORDS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME!!!

[sharkbitespeaks]

Wordsmiths, Miracles, and Monsters: An Informal Comparison | REVIEW

I’ve been having a lot of conversations with people, mostly on Twitter, about the reception of certain Netflix original series, especially with the release of the Stranger Things season 2 trailer. In light of that, I’d like to make my own comparisons of the content of the three Netflix originals I’ve finished watching: The Get Down, The OA, and one I’ve already talked about on this blog, Stranger Things. Spoilers ahead!

I’m going to do something that’s a little unconventional for this blog, which is to give numerical ratings for things! I have a lot of thoughts, so if you’re just curious as to my personal ratings of them, I’m putting a tl;dr at the end of each section!

I do want to preface this by saying that there isn’t really much in common with these shows other than they are all Netflix originals--they’re all completely different in their own ways, so I understand why some people prefer one over the other. But also, maybe think about why you’re not watching a series that has people of color and LGBTQ characters. Always examine your own thinking!

Plot Originality

Two of these shows fall into a similar genre with both positive and negative comparisons: Stranger Things and The OA. Both contain supernatural elements, a gang of outcasts, as well as a protagonist who transcends planes in a watery tank. 

Yeah, that one threw me too.

While I did watch Stranger Things prior to The OA, the comparisons that can be made between them differ strongly in the actual function they serve during the course of the story. It’s true--the dimensional crossing being a central focus of both of their plots makes me dock points for the both of them. But I think their themes ultimately differ and that perhaps is what makes the difference.

Continuing with the idea of plot originality, I would more closely compare The Get Down and The OA in terms of taking a more unconventional plot structure. While Stranger Things certainly has its merits in replicating the nostalgia of an 80′s movie, both The Get Down and The OA strike out in search of...well, stranger things. The Get Down does a beautiful job of creating a microcosm of Zeke’s story as a reflection of the political and artistic changes occurring in the hip hop era. The OA tries (and sometimes falters) in linking together an impossible escape with the lives of a misfit group. Stranger Things treads a well-known path, though does a good job of revamping some of the older tropes of the thrillers of the age it looks to replicate.

The Get Down: 5/5. Tackles a storyline I’ve personally never seen and isn’t covered by any other Netflix original, let alone regular television.

The OA: 3/5. Has a fascinating storyline that’s a little clunky, but unfortunately comes a little too close to Stranger Things. 

Stranger Things: 1/5. It really does rely on nostalgia.

Visuals

The point of television is right in the name, so we may as well get down to it. The OA has some beautiful framing of shots, but I feel that it gets really clunky, especially with action scenes. The eyetrace isn’t great and the CGI, while trying to be subtle, feels almost as in your face as the Star Wars Blu-Ray releases. Yes, pop culture references. I can do those too. Anyways, when it doesn’t rely on effects, there are some poignant moments done with framing--one that comes to mind is Buck’s scene in front of the mirror. He pulls the pictures that cover his mirror off gently and we see him briefly turn to the side and adjust his shirt. We don’t need anyone to walk in on Buck changing or Buck announcing that he’s trans--it’s just a moment that feels personal and real, especially to any trans viewers. Another moment is the movements scene between Homer and OA, which cuts back and forth really beautifully. The close up visual moments feel much stronger than any of the environmental shots, which often lack color and focus.

Stranger Things has much better eyetrace in their action scenes, which leads to better building of tension. The colors are also much more vibrant, especially in night time scenes, which I found surprising. However, the reliance on deep blues and deep reds is a cinematic trend I sort of hope they decide to vary. Tertiary colors, anyone? In this same vein, Stranger Things also relies strongly on high contrast, which makes for some really pleasing scenes. Every time Eleven goes to the Upside Down, the image of a small girl against an absolutely black background is a gripping one. While some scenes get a little muddy, I think the colors are actually great overall. Like The OA though, the CGI leaves something to be desired. I usually use Giger-esque as a compliment, but I feel that the monster had a little too much in common with it visually, but not enough with the tension. It follows the convention of “no eyes, bipedal = scary”, but doesn’t evoke any fear beyond the jumpscare to me. Also, unlike the iconic look of Giger’s aliens there’s no slick black carapace or organic-yet-robotic feel--it’s just some muddy guy with weird teeth. I get it dude, you just hatched. Please go take a shower.

The Get Down is gorgeous. Is my favoritism showing? People criticize Luhrmann’s extravagance in film making, but I kind of dig it. Tangent: So many people really hated The Great Gatsby but I think the look of it was perfect. That unreal decadence.

The music was...fine. No. Really. It’s fine.

Back to the point at hand, Luhrmann pushes the envelope with the colors, using those tertiaries that I love so much. It’s only fitting for a series that’s as much about art as it is about the social change--and who could really say that those two could ever be separated? Feeling like a documentary and a music video mashed together, each shot feels like it holds significance. Grandmaster Flash holding the crayon, the birds circling the air intercut with the record spinning, and every scene with Cadillac--along with being gorgeous, you know exactly what each one is shorthand for, even the less obvious ones. Paired alongside this world that feels nigh impossible, the CGI is tasteful and understated. Some of it still feels a little weird--I’m not digging the maps--but recreating New York as it was, but bigger feels like a task appropriate for CGI. I do have to criticize their smoke effects though. Those were really bad for some reason in comparison to all the other effects. The cinematic nature of the shots more than makes up for a little weird haze.

The Get Down: 5/5. Colorful, well-framed, and deliberate.

The OA: 3/5. Cut 50/50 between great shots and...not so great shots. Intention in focus saves it a point I would have docked.

Stranger Things: 4/5. Caters to its intended aesthetic, loses a point for ugly monster design.

Character Development

I could spend forever talking about character development in anything, but in the interest of length, I’m paring it down.

The Get Down floors me with how much it made me care for its characters in so little time. Zeke’s character arc is obviously the driving point, so he does get a poignant monologue where he lays out much of his backstory--but even without that, Zeke’s struggle with his emotional poignancy and his coming of age is evident in each scene. Even characters with relatively little screentime have at least one moment that encapsulates their struggles with their personal and public selves. To me, no arc feels forced (despite what some people might say about Dizzee's) and every character felt real within the first episode. The Get Down is so much about change and the development throughout the six episode season organically introduces these in their characters.

The OA also focuses strongly on their character development, which I feel is one of the stronger points of the show--but only for one side of the story. I care about Homer, but in the easiest sense. He’s a romantic interest and he has a baby, he’s sweet and sensitive. It’s kind of a no-brainer. What interests me more is the transformation of opinions on characters that I personally hated at first. I expected to dislike Steve for the entire series, and while I still have mixed feelings, I felt his character arc was transformative in a way that had me rooting for him more than I thought I would. Some characters, like Jesse and OA’s mother, had arcs I wish had been developed further, with touching scenes between the main ones that I thought were some of the strongest of the show. However, character motivation felt consistent and strong throughout the entire season.

Stranger Things sort of lets me down on this one with its adherence to 80′s movies--which means, let’s face it, very little character development. The kids gain your sympathy by being kids; their exchanges, such as the “you don’t have to have just one best friend” are my favorites of the series. However, some of the changes felt rushed--especially Lucas’s, which I felt needed much more screen time. Anyone over the age of 14 was, and I’m not exaggerating, nearly unbearable for me to watch in terms of character development. Grizzled sheriff who lost his daughter? Sad, but it’s been done. Struggling single mother with two sons? Same. Son of that struggling single mother who’s socially awkward and hides behind a camera? Gosh, I can’t imagine where I’ve seen that one before. I really could care less about the intrigue of these teenagers and adults! Please for the love of God, give me some more screentime with the characters I actually like.

The Get Down: Solid 5/5. Yes, I love The Get Down a lot and the character development is spot on, if not a little cliched at times.

The OA: 3/5 again. Felt a little disjointed where I wanted more character development for characters that I just didn’t get to see enough.

Stranger Things: 2/5. I’m being particularly harsh with the fan favorite, but having two entire subplots I didn’t care about was just exhausting. Added point for the best friend conversation.

To take a quick break before I get into the final comparison, here are some other short things about the series that I wanted to rate.

Accuracy

The Get Down: 4/5. Takes a lot of liberties, which is mostly fine, has some anachronistic slang--notably usage of the n-slur when “brother” would have been more common. (I’ll try to find the source on that.)

The OA: 5/5. Spoiler, OA pulls from several books to tell her backstory and The Oligarchs is a good read. Plus, does a pretty decent job with the trans and POC experience, if not a little reductive. Almost docked a point for Steve’s awful computer, but decided against it.

Stranger Things: 5/5. Like I said, it does a good job matching its intended aesthetic.

Social Awareness

The Get Down: 4/5. Excellent job regarding relationships between POC and culture--nerd culture, religion, expectations of immigrants. Also portrays the gay scene at the time as being primarily POC as well, which I can appreciate. Docked a point for anachronistic slang (n-slur and r-slur).

The OA: 4/5. Surprisingly sensitive about being trans, especially considering that even the most assholeish of the bunch, Steve, calls Buck by his name and immediately does the same for OA when she corrects him. Tackles disability issues. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, it gets a little too close to stereotyping with the “tiger parent” for an Asian family and the drug problems for a high-achieving POC, who I think is meant to be Latinx.

Stranger Things: 1/5. It’s quite bad, unfortunately staying true to that 80′s vibe. Uses qu**r as an insult where there are no LGBTQ characters to be seen. Normalizes the creepy behavior from Jonathan (and I say that with him as one of my favorites of my least favorite part of the show). I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something about the “pretty?” line feels off for a girl who shouldn’t have to feel that way to feel like she’s worth something, let alone should even know about that concept if she was as isolated as the show suggests.

Sensitive Imagery (this is, for lack of a better description, sort of like a family friendliness rating)

The Get Down: 1/5. All things considered, this is pretty intense, which isn’t a bad thing. But between the abuse, drugs, sex, brutality, killings, racism, and homophobia...it’s not something that’s gonna be easy on the emotions.

The OA: 3/5. Not as many counts as The Get Down but there’s a lot of graphic deaths onscreen and a couple sex scenes, as well as drug usage.

Stranger Things: 3/5. The only thing I personally felt sort of jarred by was “Will”’s body. Other than that, there’s not a lot of really emotional rollercoasters happening--some nudity, but that’s...pretty much it.

Coherency

The Get Down: 4/5. Fairly coherent, but I’m docking a point for the first episode which jumps around way too much.

The OA: 1/5. Listen. The ending was just so out of left field. I’m sure it’s deep and introspective for some people but it really left a lot to be desired for me personally.

Stranger Things: 5/5. Wraps up and ends the season well, does a classic cliffhanger.

And lastly, a note which I figured I should end on, but doesn’t really have a rating I can assign to it:

Should It Have a Second Season?

The Get Down: GOD YES where are the announcements for it!!! What happens to Mylene? Papa Fuerte? The Kipling Family? Shao? Zeke? I’m dying, Netflix, please give me the second season.

The OA: Sure. I think it would clear up a lot of points if it’s done right, but I’m a little confused as to where they would go from there. I don’t know where I would go from there.

Stranger Things: Obviously a trailer dropped for it recently, so pretty much everyone thinks it does, but I actually think that Season 1 wrapped up pretty nicely. Monster movies tend to end on cliffhangers, but I am pretty intrigued as to how they’re gonna wrap up the second season, what with how many questions they already answered for this first one. I’m sort of at a 25/75 split here.

FINAL RATINGS

The Get Down: 28/35

The OA: 22/35

Stranger Things: 20/35

[ericwollersberger]

Mark Kozelek Allegations/Career Trajectory

Recently, one of my favourite singer-songwriters, Mark Kozelek of Red House Painters and Sun Kil Moon, was accused of sexual misconduct by three women, detailed in an article on pitchfork. This was a tough read for me, and maybe the first time I’ve actually been put off of an artist’s work by finding out information like this. Up until now, I’ve been able to “separate the art from the artist” as it is most commonly put, but Mark Kozelek’s situation somehow reads as unique to me, and I don’t think it’s only because of my emotional connection to the man’s music. When I was 17 or 18 and heard the first Red House Painters album Down Colorful Hill for the first time, I was struck by the beautiful, soft, haunting, and melancholy way that Kozelek could sing about his darkest and most negative emotions. Although some people dislike him and consider him to be quite self-pitying and self-absorbed, his music scratched an itch that no other artist I know of really does for me. It wasn’t just that it seemed “personal” or “honest” or “authentic” (although it does on some level seem to be those things), it was that it was borderline voyeuristic to hear someone divulge the feelings that Mark did in song, and there was something very powerful about that to me. Later, albums like Ocean Beach and Songs for a Blue Guitar felt real to me in a way that few other albums did, and I’m aware of the level of influence he’s had on my own songwriting, which doesn’t surprise me given how much time I’ve spent with his music.

However, this is what makes these allegations somewhat difficult to swallow. One of the revelations in the article was that Kozelek had written about one of the encounters in a more recent song of his called “Soap for Joyful hands,” in which he describes an encounter with a woman in a hotel room where she asks him what his passions in life are besides music and he says he doesn’t have any, because if he did, he wouldn’t be at the level of success that he is. The woman, however, claimed that in that situation, it was actually the opposite that occurred, that he was asking her questions about her passions. She expressed disdain that she had been framed as this cloying “groupie” in the song when really it was Kozelek who had been asking her these questions in a somewhat awkward attempt to get intimate with her. Later, he apparently took a bath with the door open, came back in a towel, dropped it, and raped her.

While I don’t believe at all that an artist should be 100% honest and autobiographical in their songwriting, and in fact believe this can often be a hindrance to writing compelling and interesting lyrics, it is difficult to get around this inconsistency in the context of Mark Kozelek, mainly because his music has always been presented so vigorously as being autobiographical, especially on Benji, where he went into painful detail about his upbringing and his reactions to the deaths of family members, friends, and even celebrities. It was a shockingly unsubtle singer-songwriter album, a truly extreme work in its lack of poetry, metaphor, or any kind of literary devices traditionally is associated with the singer-songwriter genre. While it received criticism for this, no one could deny the emotional power of the songs and Kozelek’s lyricism. However, on his next few albums, he really pushed the envelope in this regard, almost completely forgoing the songwriting that made him so unique in favour of long-winded spoke word pieces where he detailed his life on tour, his home life, and his past in a way that was often compared to podcasts. Arguably, this has made his legacy even more unique and interesting than it already was, but it’s certainly met with mixed reactions.

I had enough of an investment in Kozelek that I quite enjoyed many of these albums, as they were an interesting look into the life of an artist that I greatly admired. Most of them I wouldn’t listen to more than once or twice, as they didn’t really seem to warrant or reward repeated listening, but he became so prolific that whether an album stood the test of time or not didn’t really seem to matter. In a way I admired him for being able to adjust to the changing music industry in the way that he did, although part of me did feel like his new schtick kind of got stale after a while. But his later works did pose important questions about songwriting to me, like “does it matter that he’s being honest?” “Does it matter that this is literally true?” “does it matter that this work is original and unique?” I was conflicted about it, but found it fascinating nonetheless.

Which brings me to the allegations and how they affect the music of Kozelek in a way that they couldn’t with any other artist. Now that I’ve seen the role reversal he inflicted on the situation in “Soap for Joyful hands,” I have to wonder about other songs of his and what liberties he’s taken to frame himself as this kind of sensitive, melancholy artist who just wants to love and be loved, who just wants real, authentic intimacy, who just wants to express, for better or worse, the honest truth about the situations he finds himself in with his relationships, friendships, and family life. Especially in the context of sexual misconduct allegations, it’s hard to ignore that he isn’t always particularly kind to the women he writes about. Take a song like “Mistress,” where he derides his lover’s “cheap career” and dismisses her “praise” as a “little gift you spent your money and stuffed me with” that “didn’t amount to anything.” Or a song like “Drop,” where the chorus is “all the love in an instant makes my life stop, but then my hate for you makes my feelings altogether drop.” There was such a palpable sense of inner conflict that mirrored the conflict happening between himself and his lover, and he doesn’t shy away from lyrical vitriol: “If only I were blind, to your selfish fling and your desperate cause/and didn’t press you for the details that threatened my physical flaws.” Which even before the allegations, I couldn’t really read as anything other than that she cheated on him and he for some reason had to know if the other guy’s dick was bigger than his, and it was. Although this is obviously kind of a petty thing to be insecure about, and didn’t exactly make him seem like a likable person to me, I did admire the weird kind of bravery it took to write about it in a song and put it in one of the most emotionally stirring songs on your album.

Many people, myself included, are not exactly surprised by the allegations, as Mark Kozelek has always been kind of an anti-hero and especially in his older age has come across as quite self-absorbed and petty, but I used to think that him acting the way he did and writing the types of lyrics he did could also just be the result of a low self-image, and the version of himself that he expressed in song and to the press was a persona that reflected this more than it reflected the way he truly was in his personal life. And after all, just because he’s not a very nice guy doesn’t necessarily mean he’s an abuser or rapist, but now that these allegations are out there, and I find them to be credible, it’s hard to make heads or tails of the ostensibly “personal” nature of his songs. The songs about his relationships leave me with a really uncomfortable feeling of “Yeah, but what really happened here?” And the songs about himself and his emotions, his loneliness, and his career just seem like they’re designed to present himself as a certain archetype so that he can lure people in and prey upon them. There was always a darkness to his music, and that was partly what made it so alluring. I don’t think the allegations will ruin my appreciation of him forever, nor can it undo how influential he’s been on me as a songwriter, but I think I’m going to keep my distance from him for a while.

[babbleuk]

Voices in AI – Episode 96: A Conversation with Gary Marcus

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About this Episode

Episode 96 of Voices in AI features Byron speaking with author and psychologist Gary Marcus about the nature of intelligence and what the mind really means in relation to AI.

Listen to this episode or read the full transcript at www.VoicesinAI.com

Transcript Excerpt

Byron Reese: This is Voices in AI, brought to you by GigaOm, and I’m Bryon Reese. Today our guest is Gary Marcus. He is a scientist, author, and entrepreneur. He’s a professor in the Department of Psychology at NYU. He was the founder and CEO of Geometric Intelligence, a machine learning company later acquired by Uber. He has a new company called Robust.AI and a new book called Rebooting AI, so we should have a great chat. Welcome to the show, Gary.

Gary Marcus: Thanks very much for having me.

Why is intelligence such a hard thing to define, and why is artificial intelligence artificial? Is it really intelligence, or is it just something that can mimic intelligence, or is there not a difference between those two things?

I think different people have different views about that. I’m not doctrinaire about vocabulary. I think that intelligence itself is a multidimensional variable. People want to stuff it into a single number and say your IQ is 110, or 160, or 92, or whatever it is, but there are really many things that go into natural intelligence such as the ability to solve problems you haven’t seen before, or the ability to recognize objects, or the ability to speak or to be very verbal about it. There’s many, many different dimensions to intelligence. When we talk about artificial intelligence, we’re basically talking about whether machines can do some of those things.

You’re a provocative guy with all kinds of ideas in all different areas. Talk a little bit about the mind, how you think it comes about in 30 seconds or less, please. And will artificial intelligence need to have a mind to do a lot of the things we want it to do?

The best thing I ever heard about that, short version, is Steven Pinker was on Stephen Colbert. Colbert asked him to explain the brain in five words, and he said brain cells firing patterns. That’s how our brains work is there’s a lot of neural firing, and minds emerge from the activity of those brains. We still don’t really understand what all that means. We don’t have a very good grip on what the neural processes are that give rise to basic things like speaking sentences. We have a long way to go understanding it in those terms.

I tend to take a psychologist’s perspective more than a neuroscience perspective and say the mind is all of our cognitive functions. It’s how we think and how we reason, how we understand our place in the world. Machines, if we want to get to the point where they’re trustworthy, are going to have to do many of the things that human minds do, not necessarily in identical ways. It has to be able to capture, for example, the flexibility that human minds have, such that when they encounter something they haven’t seen before, they can cope with it and not just break down.

I know you said you don’t usually approach it from neurology, but I’m fascinated by the nematode worm who’s got just a handful of neurons. People have spent so long, 20 years in the OpenWorm project, trying to model those 302 neurons to make behavior. They’re not even sure it’s even possible to do that.

Do you think we are going to have to crack that code and understand something about how the brain works before we can build truly intelligent machines, or is it like the old saw about airplanes and birds [flying differently]? They’re going to think in a way that’s alien to the way we think?

I think it’s somewhere in between, but I’m also pushing towards the psychology side. I don’t think that understanding the connectome of the human brain or all those connections is anytime soon going to really help us with AI. I do think that understanding psychology better, like how people reason about everyday objects as they navigate the world, that might actually help us.

Psychology isn’t as much of a prestige discipline, so to speak, as neuroscience. Neuroscience gets more money, gets more attention. Neuroscience will probably tell us a lot about the nature of intelligence in the long term. That could be a long term of 50 or 100 years. Meanwhile, thinking about psychology has actually led to some AI that I think really works. None of it’s what we call artificial general intelligence. Most of the AI we have doesn’t owe that much to neuroscience, and if anything, it owes something to psychology and people trying to figure out how human beings or other animals solve problems.

Yeah, I agree completely with that. I think AI tries to glom onto things like neural nets and all of that to try to give them some biological tie, but I think it’s more marketing than anything.

I was about to say exactly that. I think it’s more marketing than anything.Neural networks are very, very, loosely modeled on the brain. I’m trying to think of a metaphor. It’d be like comparing a child’s first drawing to some incredibly elaborate work of art. Okay, they’re both drawings, but they’re really not the same thing. Neural networks, for example, only have essentially one kind of neuron, which either fires or doesn’t. Biology, first of all, separates the firing neurons from the inhibiting neurons, the positive from the negatives, and then there are probably 1,000 different kinds of neurons in the brain with many different properties. The so-called neural networks that people are using don’t have any of that. We don’t really understand how the biology works, so people just ignore it. They wind up with something that is only superficially related to how that brain actually functions.

Let’s talk about consciousness. Consciousness is the experience of being you, obviously. A computer can measure temperature, but we can feel warmth. I’ve heard it described as the last great scientific question we know neither how to pose scientifically nor what the answer would look like. Do you think that’s a fair description of the problem of consciousness?

The only part I’m going to give you grief about is that it’s the last great scientific question. I mean, as you yourself said later in your question, it’s not a well-formed question. Great scientific questions are well formed. We know what an answer would look like and what a methodology would be for answering them. Maybe we lack some instrument. We can’t do it yet. We need a bigger collider or something like that where we understand the principle of how you can get data to address it. [With] consciousness, we don’t really at this point know that.

We don’t know even what a ‘consciousness meter’ would look like. If we had one, we’d go around and do a bunch of experiments and say, “Well, does this worm that you’re talking about have consciousness? Does my cat? What if I’m asleep? What if I’m in a coma?” You could start to collect data. You could build a theory around that. We don’t even know how we would collect the data.

My view is: there is something there that needs to be answered. Obviously, there is a feeling of experiencing red, or experiencing orgasm, or whatever we would describe as consciousness. We don’t have any, I think, real scientific purchase on what it is that we’re even asking. Maybe it will turn out to be the last great scientific question, but if it is, it’ll be somehow refined relative to what it is that we’re asking right now.

Do you believe that we can create a general intelligence on some time period measured in centuries, even? Do you believe it’s possible to do that?

I do, absolutely. I’m widely known as a critic of AI, but I’m only a critic of what people are doing now, which I think is misguided in certain ways. I certainly think it’s possible to build a general intelligence. You could argue on the margins. Could a machine be conscious? I would say, “Well, it depends what you mean by conscious, and I don’t know what the answer is.”

Could you build a machine that could be a much more flexible thinker than current machines? Yes, I don’t see a principled reason why you couldn’t have a machine that was as smart as MacGyver and could figure out how to get its way out of a locked room using twist ties and rubber bands or something like that, which a current machine can’t do at all. I don’t see the principled reason why computers can’t do that, and I see at least some notion of how we might move more in that direction.

The problem right now is: people are very attracted to using large databases. We’re in the era of big data, and almost all of the research is around what you can do with big data. That leads to solutions to certain kinds of problems. How do I recognize a picture and label it if I have a lot of labels from other people that have taken similar pictures? It doesn’t necessarily lead you to questions about what would I do if I had this small amount of data, and I was addressing a problem that nobody had ever seen before? That’s what humans are good at, and that’s what’s lacking from machines. This doesn’t mean it’s an unsolvable problem in principle. It means that people are chasing research dollars and salary and stuff like that for a certain set of problems that are popular right now. My view is that AI is misguided right now, but not that it’s impossible.

Listen to this episode or read the full transcript at www.VoicesinAI.com

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Byron explores issues around artificial intelligence and conscious computers in his new book The Fourth Age: Smart Robots, Conscious Computers, and the Future of Humanity.

from Gigaom https://gigaom.com/2019/09/19/voices-in-ai-episode-96-a-conversation-with-gary-marcus/