#EVERYTHING points to Johanne being deeply in love with her

[rarilee33]

if you liked Synnøve Macody Lund in Saw X as Cecilia, you might want to watch Black Widows, the 2016 Scandinavian tv show where she plays Johanne who is, for all intents and purposes, very much obviously in love with her best friend Rebecka (they do not actually kiss... but they should've)

their friend Kira is also There

[prairiesongserial]

epilogue 17

Ezra left before the sun came up. He did so quietly, loading a trunk full of his things into the bed of one of the caravan’s older trucks, and departing before anyone had the chance to wake up and question why he was awake at such an ungodly hour. Not that he wasn’t questioning that himself. He supposed he could have stayed behind and made more noise about Johannes forcing him out - could have tried to take some of the circus with him, the same as Iris had - but he didn’t have enough fight in him for that.

Worse still, there was a part of Ezra that doubted anyone else from the circus would have come with him. He hated leaving Johannes behind to tell the story of what had happened, hated that everyone would hear Johannes’s version of events, but maybe no one would have believed his own version of events in the first place. Maybe no one but Ezra thought that what he’d done to try and preserve the circus’s safety had been worth doing.

Ezra rolled down the window as he drove, letting the wind whip through his hair, and watched the sun slowly begin to peek over the horizon. What Johannes was doing was stupid. Deeply so. Trying to raise a short-notice army to go up against Hemisphere…it was nothing short of insane. He was going to die, if someone didn’t do something about it, and so was the rest of the circus.

Ezra would have loved for that to not be his problem.

The door of the trailer banged open, and Ezra jumped. He’d known he couldn’t hide forever, of course, but he’d also been holding out hope that he and Johannes were both too tired to have a confrontation tonight. Johannes, Val, and Friday had already been back at camp for a number of hours, and Johannes hadn’t bothered to come looking around for Ezra until now.

Johannes was mad, though. Ezra could see it in everything from his expression to the rigid way he carried himself as he stepped inside. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Johannes this livid - except for maybe when a large chunk of the circus had up and left with Iris. But that had been different.

“Out,” Johannes said. He wasn’t even bothering to speak in Yiddish. Apparently he no longer cared about being eavesdropped on. “I want you out. Gone by morning.”

“What -” Ezra began, then cut himself off. “Is this about Friday? I told you, I tried to help her.”

“She seemed to think differently,” Johannes said. He was scowling, his blue eye flashing dangerously.

“She doesn’t know what she saw,” Ezra snapped.

“She said she confronted you about trying to kill Cody!”

“And she did,” Ezra said. He wasn’t happy about how that conversation with Friday had gone, to say nothing of the way it had been interrupted. But there had been no point when he’d so much as considered killing her. The circus was beyond saving, now that Lady had decided she wanted the four of them alive.

“We were talking - yeah, about that - ” Ezra continued. “That’s when the bridge got attacked, and we spun out, and she fell out of the truck. I tried to pull her back up on the bridge.”

“She said you pushed her,” Johannes said. Johannes gave him a look that was totally unfamiliar, coming from him. It put the fear of God in Ezra because he knew it - that was Judith’s ice blue eye staring him down.

“She’s being dramatic,” Ezra said, swallowing. Ezra worked with the burlesque tent - he knew characters like Friday. She was convinced she was always in the right, even when things were a little grayer than that. She looked the other way when people - or the world - didn’t act the way she expected. “She was wrapped up in the idea of me sabotaging the truck, and she saw what she wanted to see. But I’m telling the truth. When I saw her going over, I tried to save her.”

“I don’t believe you,” Johannes said simply, like the words didn’t hurt more than taking a punch.

“Fine,” Ezra said, winded. He had no other way to respond. It had been obvious for some days that Johannes didn’t trust him anymore, even if Ezra had only been trying to keep the circus safe, but it was another thing entirely to hear it put so plainly. “You don’t have to. But I’m telling the truth.”

What reason did Johannes have to trust Friday over him, anyway? Friday and Johannes hated each other. Ezra couldn’t envision that the brief time they’d just spent together in the city had changed any of that.

“I want you gone by morning,” Johannes said.. “Don’t make a big to-do about it. Not that you would.” He breezed past where Ezra was sitting at the table, making his way back towards his bunk. “You can take a truck, and as much of your stuff as you can pack.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” Ezra asked. He couldn’t just drive away from the caravan without a plan. It was hard to drive anywhere on the East Coast without a plan, or at least an idea of what route you were taking. Especially if you were traveling alone.

“You’re smart,” Johannes said, derisively. “You’ll figure it out.”

Roadside shops became more and more frequent as Ezra neared the northern border of New York. He’d been trying to make good progress ahead of the caravan, mostly to ensure that they didn’t cross paths on the main road, but Ezra felt confident enough to stop around midday to fill up on gas and a meal. He paid, ate a dubious turkey sandwich in the truck, filled an extra gas can from the backseat just in case, and stepped back inside the small store to ask to use their phone.

“You got the number, or should I dial the operator?” the girl behind the counter asked, handing over the receiver.

“I’ve got the number,” Ezra said, and recited it to her.

“Leave you to it, then,” she said, once she’d punched the number in, slipping out from behind the counter. Ezra watched her shake a cigarette out of her jacket sleeve as she walked outside, and wished fervently that he’d remembered to bring a box of his own.

The phone rang, and rang again. It rang five times, enough for Ezra to contemplate hanging up, before someone picked up on the other end.

“This better be good,” Judith Madsen said.

“It’s me, Mame,” Ezra said. He paused. Where the fuck did he begin?

The line crackled as Mame waited for him to go on.

“Uh, I’m coming up to visit,” he said. “There’s some stuff you should know before I get there.”

17.14 || 18.1

[th3okamid3mon]

JoJo Rabbit, a well thought and heart-wrenching satire [SPOILERS]

Even in a comedy you can´t help to cry, there´s no way you can talk about any war without crying or feeling such a deep horrible feeling of fear and distraught.

(I´m gonna be disclosing a lot of SPOILERS, which include the ending and several key points of the story.)

Sinopsis:

Johannes Breztel is a 10 year old german fanatic who wishes to become a good nazi soldier. He goes to a military camp where he has to learn everything you need to know about being a good soldier and make Hitler proud. JoJo, with his imaginary friend Adolf, began their adventure to becoming a better German for their homeland and fighting against the evil plaguing it: jews. 

Writing and Characters:

I heard a lot about Taika Waititi, haven´t watch Ragnarok since I´m not exactly a huge fan on superhero movies (Watched most of the MCU movies mostly out of duty, in a ¨God, please just end it¨ kind of way. Loved Iron Man, hated the 3, Thor was boring, and etc, etc.), I heard how awesome he is, how good is he at also acting and such. This is a huge and great example for his brilliance to shine. 

Every story about WW2 is really predictable, you know people are gonna die and people are gonna be miserable or happy at the end of the war. Waititi does a flip by using dark comedy and the perspective of a child, which a lot of people seem to not want due to how disturbing it can be (once you get all the comedy out of the way). 

You follow Johannes ¨JoJo¨ Betzler, a 10 year old who is, as the character of Elsa says is:, ¨just a little boy playing to be a soldier with a funny costume trying to get in a club¨. We see he has blind devotion towards the evil Adolf Hitler and is really excited to participate in a training with the hopes of becoming a soldier or better yet, Hitler´s personal body guard. It is disturbing to think a young child, or any child by any means, want to become part on the worst human activity there is: war, and not only that, idolizes the worst and evilest bastard who could have ever been alive. Of course, JoJo is not good for war at all. No kid has the killing instinct in their blood, it´s not something you inherit its something they learn or, in this case, brainwash into believing. He gets into a hilariously portrayed accident that involved a hand bomb that exploded his left side. 

His character is the most developed in the entire movie, we follow his steps, we see what he sees and we feel what he feels. His mother tried very hard to taught him how awful war was, he saw Elsa hidden in a tight spot where she had to keep quiet or she and the rest could get in serious trouble, he saw the military before and after going to war. He began to understand how awful can war be, but it wasn´t fully absorb until several traumatic events happened that no child ever had to see in their young life. It´s a very likable child, you are never angry at his devotion he was literally taught from infancy how he had to serve a dictator. The fault falls in the regimen, his actions, the things he does and acts are his only responsibility and thanks to his child innocence and wonder and compassion we know he is a good person in the inside just a bit confused. 

Rosie Betzler. If you didn´t like Scarlett Johannson for his previews acting on the fucking MCU movies (like me, GOD I hated her), well I bet you are gonna like her in this one. I mean... SHE SMILES? WOW, DIDN´T KNEW SHE COULD DO THAT. Seriously, the directing in the heroes movies fucked her seriously. She is a brilliant actress and is so wonderfully funny in this one. A kind mother with brutal honesty trying to raise her now beloved child alone (since her husband is at war and her older child died from influenza, I didn´t exactly got that from the movie) while keeping certain secrets to keep him safe is hard enough, but during NAZI GERMANY while being part of the jewish resistance is IS ANOTHER LEVEL OF HARD, ITS LIKE NIGHTMARE MODE IN FUCKING OUTLAST. Badass character, keeping a balance between trying to make her child feel like a child and also keeping the orphan Elsa a secret. She didn´t had a huge development and she didn´t need one, we only needed to see what secrets she was hiding and damn... They cost a lot once you knew them all. 

Elsa, brave and aggressive Elsa. Of course anyone would act the way she did if she had to be quiet to avoid being sent to a concentration camp. The girl has a lot of knowledge in popular culture, telling JoJo about different artists who, not only were writers or musicians, but also Jewish (to the dismay for poor, silly JoJo). She didn´t have a huge development, she begin to understand JoJo deeply as well as Rosie, since both where there for her (even if they had different and opposite motivations). Elsa is like an obstacle for JoJo except she doesn´t do much and wouldn´t do so if it meant putting herself at risk. We can see she is really brave once the Gestapo stop at their home, brave and smart that is. Without her quick thinking the movie would have ended then and there. I can´t imagine how deeply horrifying it would have been to do that and how awful and sad her life was after not only loosing her fiance to tuberculosis but also watching her family getting in a train and leaving to a place where no one returns. She acts aggressive and is harsh because she needs to survive and when she begins to trust JoJo, their bond become strong and deep and become like siblings. 

Capitan Deertz is a very apathetic and silly capitan, the guy is really tired of the war and doesnt really want anything to do with the children at the camp, not because of a moral compass he just doesnt give a fuck. You get this character and you laugh at his commentary and at how Rosie can easily threaten him. And then you see more of his character, he seems to care at certain some points. He cares about Finkel, who is a second in command. Every time they appear in screen they are literally whispering stuff at each other or have certain looks, clearly a gay couple. At that time period it was EXTREMELY dangerous to show any type of love towards another man and this two werent that subtle about it but since they were high in command guess no one actually care or said anything (considering most of the people in their command were children, no one would probably even care). Finkel was just this goofy guy who follow Deertz and show a deep appreciation. Not the main thing to focus, it´s just there and it´s funny and its normal. They dont have to look or act in ¨gay way¨, they are just there and they do their work and such. Which is fine until you get the war scenes and then you want to bawl even more (Because when you get at the war scenes you already should have bawled your eyes out due to a lot of sad circumstances). He also cared about Rosie and JoJo, even when he seem not to. When he saw Gestapo in Rosie´s house he helped JoJo save Elsa and when he was trapped by the Allies he helped JoJo again by ripping a nazi jacket off of him and shoving him to the ground while screaming at him. General jerk is actually a caring character, cliche move but man, does it always fucking works. 

The dialogues were impressively well thought, no one felt out of place and they made sense. The way they make fun of the whole blind fanatism and how the military views boys and girls it´s all in your face and its hilarious, it is presented as that so please no one start saying how sexist or how wrong it is for saying the things they say. It´s a SATIRE. It´s a MOVIE. ITS COMEDY.

I cannot thought of any kind of plothole, I´m sure it has or it probably has but the story is so well thought and so well acted you are absorb into it. Your whole attention is in what will happen next, the story of WW2 can be predictable, but this story is always at 2 steps of ripping your heart and then replacing it and hoping it pumps blood normally and when it does pump blood normally it rips it off again. It´s a rollercoaster, and it´s capturing. Your attention is in the story 100% of the time, and you gotta pay attention to the details because they foreshadow so much good and so much PAIN. 

Directing and Acting: 

I almost go off in the other section about Scarlett´s acting, now here it comes: MY GOD. I hated her so much in Avengers. The mot disliked character for me was her, and I always forget it was the directors fault. Here´s a note: When an actor acts bad, it´s not always, if not NEVER, their fault. Most of the time is the directors fault, you have to give straight and good orders and to maintain a communication with them if not the story falls. When Black Widow was shown in Iron Man, I was like ¨Wow, I like her! She is really good and badass!!¨ and then Avengers happened and it fucking fall all over the fucking lava floor. And IT WAS A FUCKING SHAME. Scarlett Johansson is a really good actress! She portrayed an excellent character, even if it was a minor character, she did it perfectly and shown so much emotion with the looks and the words she said and the actions she did. She was a mom in this movie, and it showed! THIS! THIS CHARACTER MADE ME LOVE JOHANSSON! Please dont go to shit directors ever again, my god. Avengers was a fucking toxic relationship and SHE GOT OUT AND SHE IS BRILLIANT. 

Taika Waititi is such a great director, he really put his love and passion into this project and it shows. It bleeds passion, it fucking tastes passion. I dont understand, he needs more money to make more works. GIVE THIS MAN MORE MONEY. 

The kids? Holy- How old are th- 12!?!?!?!? ROMAN GRIFFIN DAVIS WAS 12?!?!?! How old was- HIS SIBLINGS ALSO WORK IN THIS?! Ok how old is the othe- 11!?!?!??! ARCHIE YATES IS 11!??!?!  Ok, as you can see, I am very impressed by this child actors. It can be a challenge to direct them because sometimes there are a lot of different needs they have and they also can´t work as much as the adults and such, this means there´s less time to work with them and maybe they have school and other child responsibilities. Waititi must have had a lot of patience and a really big understanding of their work hours, not over pressuring them and knowing how to explain the whole script. That doesn´t mean they dont have talent, though. This kids are EXTREMELY talented, they are funny and they show a lot of emotion, even when one is comic relief you can sense and see how exhausted he is while saying ¨I´m going to see my mom, I need a cuddle¨ LIKE... THIS ARE KIDS, THEY SHOULDNT BE AT WAR, WTF!? 

The actors protrayed their respective characters in such a way, deeply understanding what emotions go in each scene and making the scene so heart wrenching. 

[BIG SPOILER, SKIP IF YOU DON´T WANNA KNOW] There´s a scene I enjoyed a lot by how it is presented, it´s a good sequence and the punch hits you really hard. During the movie you can see a couple scenes where they only show Rosie´s feet, dancing or just moving while JoJo sees amused or not. Anyway, the scene I´m talking about is when he is following a really pretty blue butterfly that is flying at floors level. He walks towards it and smiles, he squats to take a better look at it before it flies away. And when he stands up again, he is next to a pair of legs, and not any legs, they have a specific kind of shoe, and they have a specific blue coat. Oh no. You dont have to see the face, there´s no need to see the face. You dont have to see the expression you only need to see JoJo. And this is where I have no idea how this kid did it, but his expression goes from wonder to horrifying sadness and desperation. I dont know what direction, what mental image did Waititi told him but he manage to portrayed a really raw and deep sadness and heartbreak you can only see in people who lost someone. And the kid is just holding his mother´s lifeless legs and crying and desperate trying to tie her shoelaces and then giving up and hugging her again. And then he is just broken, looking at her hanging with other people who might have been with her or not. The realization of how harsh the punishment is and how awful life is that day at that time. And he can´t believe it, he doesnt want to believe and maybe if he had acted differently she would have still been there but no. It wasn´t his fault, he had nothing to do with it. He later was explain what possibly happened. She was with the resistance, her husband was with the resistance in Italy. She was against nazi´s but she never told him to protect him and to protect herself. She sacrifice for other people, she put herself in danger for other people and for a better future for her son. JoJo wouldnt have known, he couldn´t know and now that he knew he just loved her so very much and it hurted him. It wasn´t the jews´ fault, it wasn´t his fault, it was the people of the regimen he was following, the regimen who promised a bright future for him and the other children. 

Sound design: 

It was delightful. Dialogues kept at their respective volumes, background noises were there and not overbearing, the sound of steps, something being dragged, the sound of bombs and artillery. Not a single time was any sound out of place, it was as if you were there, it immersive. The sound played a huge rolled into being capture in the story, with such detail at every sound that could be played at the scene. The silences where used perfectly, only backgrounds and atmospheric sounds plagued the scene, and when the moment hit you there was still no music until the realization was made. Perfect timing.

The soundtrack was beautiful, endearing and melancholic at their respective scenes. When there was music to dance on, the music played, when there was a hilarious montage the music exaggerates the ridiculous situation they are presented in. It was wonderful. 

Art design: 

They went all off!!! The clothes, the cars, the food, the plates, everything! I wonder how much investigation did they had to do to fully dress up an entire cast and also to do the little details. One thing is getting the clothes that, to be entirely fair, thanks to photos from those times and more investigation from books, you can figure out the type of clothes and materials they used, but the details from the streets, the kind of bikes and the inside of a house its an entire story:

Investigation is not entirely what you need to do, you have to consider what colors go well, what makes the character pop but also make sense, how the decor should be done and what kind of table and chairs are in a normal house. How do the hidden rooms worked and how where they hidden at plain sight, how do you make it work and how will it look. All has to be thought out, everything has to have a purpose, even the smallest change can be a whole new set. Make it look pretty but make sure it makes sense to the era. 

Photography: 

Let´s talk photography, shall we?

Look at how the colors vary, look at the highlights and shadows. Look at the saturated colors. I LOVE saturated colors, not many photographers used them out of fear, the colors can be very bright and distracting, but Mihai Mălaimare Jr. made it work! His shots are spectacular, they work perfectly to capture whats going on and how the characters feel. 

JUST LOOK AT THE CONTRAST. In the first picture there´s a big open shot, both Rosie and JoJo are in the very left corner while you can see the bright green grass. They are free from everything when they are out of town, they can be happy or enjoy their time while being there, even if JoJo likes to pretend to be mature and to still want to be a soldier while his mother is trying to make him understand how life has to be enjoyed while it last and how war has ruin that for everyone, including the nazi germans. The second shot is at the town, look at how grayish it looks. Everyone is miserable. There´s no such thing as a good war, and whether you believe it or not, even the nazi germans were suffering, the ones who werent fighting were frighten to be attacked, hungry because the food was not enough or was given to the soldiers, no one was happy at that point in life. The color palettes help tell a story, and influence how you look at the lives of the characters. It´s visual storytelling and you can feel the fresh air, the relief from the first shot and then the limited, claustrophobic and fearful atmosphere from the second. 

What a better representation of what war is. Kids going to get killed for an evil regimen disguised as the savior for their homeland. JoJo who finally sees that horrors of war, a kid who has lost so much now, who knows heartbreak but never fathom the idea of horrifying, raw, disturbing and sickening war is. How you loose more than you gain from fighting, how you see your friends being send like pigs to a slaughter, how the military blindly follows orders for a falling regimen. The look of utter disbelief and horror contrasting the he blind joy of dying for your country. This shot is everything and in motion is even more epic yet disturbing. 

Conclusion:

I might be too blinded by how well it was made that I don´t see any problems in it. I would have to watch it again to see if there´s some inconsistencies but going by the first watch I have to say it was really good. The plot was understandable, it had high points and slow points, but those were well made. It was smooth how the story evolve, the turns were expected but maybe not in the way they were presented. What i mean is, it can be predictable but you dont expect HOW it is presented. With War stories death is at every corner, it´s the manner that you don´t expect or hope to happen to anyone. The acting was phenomenal, the star was totally Roman Griffin, all the actors were amazing but you gotta give the kid credit, THIS WAS HIS DEBUT and he NAILED IT! 

By the looks of the trailer you expect so much and it gives you that and more. To the eyes is a delight, to the heart is a pain and comfort and to the ears is a melody. To the soul is a story that has to remind you history, war is not a good thing and so many people get more damage by it than saved. No kid should ever be put in that situation, and yet there are kids suffering in this world. This movie could potentially be an Anti-War movie, because it literally shows how awful it is. Wars are awful in general! It´s kind of ridiculous we need to be reminded of that but here we are. 

We are shown a cruel environment with a humorous tone to get the message straight into our heads and it works perfectly. Give it 3 watches and then watch another 3 times, every time you feel like everything is going down, remember there´s still hope even in the darkest more horrifying places and times. We have the choice to make good, humans can be evil but can be extremely brave and compassionate. Never give up being a good person, it can be hard but it is more rewarding. People need kindness and compassion. We need to be those compassionate people for others. It always starts with one brave person. 

The last thing you leave the theater is with a verse from Rainer Maria Rilke: 

                                      Let everything happen to you.                                                Beauty and Terror.                                                Just keep going.                                               No feeling is final.

Sincerely moved, T.O.D

PS: Fuck Hitler. 

[frozenartscapes]

Snow and Sunshine - Night

AN: This will be at least a three-parter. I’ve got those three parts completed, anyway. This is arguably the most important fic in this AU, solely because it signifies the start of Elsa’s relationship with her daughter. Anna plays a key role here as Elsa’s main support pillar, using her typical Anna charm to help ease her sister’s mind. I actually had quite a bit of fun writing their banter. Hope you guys enjoy!

---

It had been three weeks since Prince Johannes of the Apline Islands had been tragically lost at sea. The husband to Queen Elsa of Arendelle had been returning to his home nation to finish up some business with his father in person when his ship was caught in a storm, and all on board were taken by the sea. Such were the hazards of sailing in March.

Queen Elsa held a funeral service for her husband in Arendelle. The whole kingdom, along with representatives from neighbouring nations, attended. The people were quick to offer the Queen, who by then was visibly pregnant with the future heir to the throne, their sympathies and condolences. Everyone expected her to be deeply affected by the loss, for losing a loving husband so early into the marriage is a heartbreaking thing.

Except, Elsa had not married Johannes for love. The Apline Islands had been threatened for years by the nations around them and they needed to show that their alliance with one as powerful as Arendelle was more than just something on a piece of paper. Despite their size, they were a wealthy nation and a good ally, but they could not properly defend themselves. Johannes, the third son of the King of the Aplines, was about the same age as Arendelle’s young Queen. And marriage into Arendelle’s royal family would not only be beneficial to him, but it would also guarantee Arendelle’s defensive support should the Aplines ever need it. Arendelle would have another solid alliance with a wealthy, mineral-rich kingdom that currently was fully embracing the industrial revolution and all the innovation that came with it.

And Elsa refused to allow Anna to accept the marriage instead, not when she and Kristoff loved each other so.

Johannes was a nice enough man, but he was pushy. Arrogant, at times. Stubborn, most of the time. Once he got something in his head, it was impossible to change his mind. And as a result, he and Elsa had butted heads quite frequently. In fact, their last argument had been about his fateful trip: Elsa had warned him about the dangers of sailing in the waters off Arendelle’s coast in March, and he refused to believe there was a danger.

It was safe to say that Elsa did not love Johannes. And while she still mourned his loss, it wasn’t in the way people expected her to. She mourned him no differently than she mourned all the men on his ship that night - as lives taken too soon, as young men with families who will never get to see them again, as people who suffered terrifying and agonizing deaths in the icy waters of the North Sea. She did not mourn him as her husband.

And, as she sat at her office desk, unable to focus on her work but instead on her ever-growing belly, she mourned him being around to offer assistance - as limited as it was going to be - with what comes next. With the last few months of pregnancy. With giving birth. With raising the child. Elsa had become increasingly aware that she was in this alone, now. Even if she no longer had a husband, her life could never go back to the way it was. She had a child on the way - a child that never would have existed if she had things her way.

“You’re brooding again.”

Elsa looked up to see Anna at the door. Her sister didn’t need an invitation to come further into the room. “S...sorry, I just...” Elsa said as Anna approached. She trailed off with a heavy sigh, looking down at her abdomen again in defeat.

“Come on,” Anna said, holding out a hand to help her sister up, “Let’s move to the couch where it’s comfier.”

“But I still have work to do,” Elsa protested weakly.

“It can wait,” Anna told her, “Besides, you weren’t doing it when I walked in - that means it was less important than your brooding.”

Elsa shot her sister a look, but wordlessly held out her hand. Anna took it, and with a small grunt, pulled her sister up. “You’re getting heavy,” she commented lightly.

“I’m not getting heavy,” Elsa argued, “The baby is.”

Anna scoffed playfully. “You and your technicalities,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

They headed over to the couch by the fireplace. Once she was sure Elsa was settled, Anna plunked down beside her. They sat in silence for a moment, savouring the warmth from the fire and each other’s company.

Anna was the first to break it: “So… How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve got a tiny human growing inside of me,” Elsa answered bluntly.

“Speaking of… Are they… Have they moved recently?” Anna asked with curiosity.

Elsa responded by taking her sister’s hand and placing it on her belly. Anna gasped in excitement when she felt a little kick from inside. “They always move around for you,” Elsa told her, “I think they like to hear your voice.”

“Well that’s not a surprise, considering you’re their Mama,” Anna said with a laugh, “Of course they’d be a show-off like you.”

Elsa smiled, but it faded as her gaze fell upon her growing abdomen. She let out a heavy sigh as she absentmindedly placed a hand next to Anna’s.

Anna frowned in concern, taking her hand away to give her sister some space. “How are you really feeling?” she asked again, this time with more seriousness in her tone.

Elsa swallowed hard and blinked back a few tears. “Scared,” she uttered softly.

Anna bit her lip in worry. “I know I’m probably not the best help,” she admitted, “What with me, you know, not being a mother in any way, but… My point is: I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but it’s going to be ok. You’ll be fine, El—”

“Please don’t say it like that!” Elsa interrupted, her eyes screwed shut and her teeth clenched. Frost started to creep along the floor at her feet. “P…Papa said… Before…”

“Sorry!” Anna said quickly, “I’m sorry. I forgot.” She silently kicked herself for the slip up. Elsa had told her once, off-hand, about their parents’ final words to her. It hadn’t meant much to Elsa before, but as her due date grew closer and things just seemed to keep getting worse, those words started to trigger Elsa’s anxiety every time she heard them.

Sighing heavily, Anna tried again: “You’ve got the doctor, and Gerda - who was there for both of our births. And we found the best midwives in the kingdom. Pabbie and Bulda have also given us some good advice, particularly about the possibility of magic being involved. We’ve taken everything into account. You’ve got the kingdom’s support.” She took Elsa’s hand, then, and gave it a firm squeeze. “And you have me. I’m not gonna leave your side. Not now, not when you’re the size of a whale, and not once you give birth to a beautiful baby boy or girl. We’ll get through this together, alright?”

Elsa sniffled and reciprocated the hand squeeze. She then turned, offering Anna a teary smile. “I’m not going to be the size of a whale,” she choked out with a small laugh.

Anna chuckled and gently prodded her sister’s belly. “You’re already pretty big,” she observed, “And you’ve still got a few months to go. Maybe you won’t be a whale but definitely a horse.”

With that, a large ball of soft, powdery snow appeared above Anna’s head and dropped down on top of her with a low whump. Anna leapt off the couch in surprise and struggled to free the snow that had gone down the back of her dress. After taking care of that, she shook the snow out of her hair, and stated lightly: “No fair! I’m not allowed to retaliate against you right now!”

Elsa patted her baby bump with a smug smile. “Can’t risk any sudden surprises or over-exertion,” she said simply.

“You are such a dork,” Anna teased, “Now is it too much to ask you to remove the snow so I can sit down again?”

With a lazy wave of her hand, Elsa cleared the snow away into thin air. Anna sat back down again and made herself comfy. She put extra emphasis on pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and tugging it over herself and her sister. Elsa rolled her eyes at her sister’s dramatics.

After another moment of silence, Elsa asked quietly: “Will I be a good mother?”

Anna shot her sister a disbelieving look. “You’re an amazing sister,” she assured her, “And you’re an incredible Queen. I think it’s safe to say you’ll be the best mother out there.”

“But what if…” Elsa trailed off, her face shadowed by fear and worry.

“Don’t worry about not knowing what to do,” Anna told her, “No one really knows how to be a mother the first time around. At least, that’s what Gerda always says…”

“No, it’s not that… It’s…” Elsa drew a deep breath and released it slowly, struggling to find a way to phrase things in the least heartless way possible. “I didn’t love Johannes,” she said in a low voice, “You know that. I didn’t even cry at his funeral. I couldn’t. I just… What if I feel the same about…”

Anna gulped nervously, eyeing the subject of her sister’s concern. “Elsa,” she began carefully, earnestly, “I say this with the utmost certainty: you have a heart bigger than anyone I know. I know you can’t make people love others, but I know you. You’ll give your child as much love as you do anyone else, at least. But I have a feeling you’ll love them with all your heart and then some.”

Elsa bit her lip in worry, refusing to look at Anna and keeping her eyes fixed on her pregnant belly. “But I don’t…feel that way now,” she admitted in a low voice, hanging her head in shame, “This has been hard, Anna. First there was the morning sickness, and the food cravings, and the sore muscles. I’m tired, more than I ever thought I would be. It’s…it’s weird. I don’t recognize my body anymore. I feel the baby move inside and I don’t feel joy it’s just…discomfort. I never wanted this.”

“Elsa…”

“But it’s not fair,” Elsa continued, clenching both hands into tight fists as frustration entered her voice, “It wasn’t fair to Johannes. I was so cold, distant… I never meant to be I just… I didn’t know how to accept him into my life, especially after how much he had changed it. It wasn’t his fault - not really. He was forced into that marriage just as much as I was. But I just couldn’t… Especially after that night when…” She trailed off. Anna noticed she was trembling, but she couldn’t tell if it was in anger or anxiety. “He was so insistent on having an heir…”

Anna remembered that night, or rather, the following morning. Elsa had been the furthest thing from herself. She wasn’t even like how she had been before. She was just…blank. Expressionless. Emotionless. But it wasn’t like she had been forcing it. The only hint of emotion she gave was a sharp flinch when Johannes touched her shoulder as he came into the dining room for breakfast. Anna had managed to pry it out of her sister after getting her alone, and once told it took Elsa freezing her feet to the floor to keep her from ripping the Prince apart. She had never been more angry with anyone, including Hans, but Elsa insisted it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. She hadn’t wanted to, but she knew where her duty lay. She knew she had to. And after enough of this well-rehearsed spiel, Anna finally could be released from the floor.

A few weeks later was when Elsa found out that she had, in fact, done her duty as a female monarch.

“After what he did, I’d say you were plenty fair,” Anna told her sister with a subtle hint of disdain for the dead.

“Not to him,” Elsa corrected, “I wasn’t fair to him, either but it’s really not fair to…the baby. They really didn’t get a say in any of this. They’re just…a result of what happened. But they’re also going to be a person. A person with feelings and thoughts and needs and wants but what if I can’t see that? What if I only see them as a reminder of what happened? What if they look like him? Or they act like him? What if…I do to them what I did to him? What if I can’t love them?”

“I…don’t know,” Anna replied slowly, “I don’t think this is something that can be easily answered. You might just have to follow your heart.”

Elsa released a heavy sigh. She drew her hands close and looked down at them in an all-too-familiar gesture. “For most of my life, I thought I was worthless, that I didn’t deserve to be loved,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly, “Yet I knew I was. You, Mama, Papa… I knew you loved me, even if I didn’t show it to you. Even if I still hid from you, pulled away, refused to touch you, look at you, I…I knew. I knew I was worth something to you.

“But what if the opposite happens?” she asked, desperation coming out in her tone, “What if I don’t show the child love? Or they pick up that I don’t? What if they grow up knowing I don’t love them? That no matter what they do or how much love they try to give me they just can’t…”

Anna reached over and worked Elsa’s hands into hers. She shot her a reassuring smile, and said softly, “The fact that you’re worried about this tells me that that won’t happen. I know you’re going through a lot right now and it’s probably a mess of emotions in that head of yours but something tells me that, deep in your heart, you already love your baby. I don’t think they’ll ever wonder if you care about them or not.”

“Anna,” Elsa began tentatively, still not believing her sister’s words.

“In fact, I bet I can prove it,” Anna said with determination. She rested a hand on her sister’s abdomen, and with a gentle pat, said, “What do you think, little one? Do you think your Mama cares about you? Kick once for yes, twice for no.”

“Anna this isn’t going to prove—” Elsa was cut short by a relatively sharp kick to the stomach, enough that she let out a small, involuntary grunt.

“Ha! See?” Anna insisted happily.

“They’ve been kicking me in the stomach for a while now. It was just a coincidence,” Elsa replied in annoyance.

“Fine. How about kick twice for yes, once for no.”

“Anna: a premature baby still a couple of months away from being born is not capable of answering questions, let alone actually understanding the point of said questions in the first place. I doubt it can even hear you clearly enough to—”

Once again, the child growing inside her cut her words short, this time when it clearly kicked against her belly twice before going still once more. Anna, who still had a hand on her stomach, shot her a very smug, victorious smile.

“That was still likely just a coincidence,” Elsa said, although she sounded far less sure of the statement this time.

“Sure it was,” Anna agreed sarcastically, “How about we go for three kicks mean yes?”

“I’d rather not encourage the baby to treat me like a punching bag, thank you,” Elsa stated dryly.

“Ah ha! So you do believe it!”

“No, I just…” Elsa huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms across her chest in defeat. To add insult to injury, the baby kicked again. Three times.

“See?” Anna said, dropping the teasing tone in her voice and adding sincerity, “You have nothing to worry about.”

Elsa glanced down at her belly before levelling her sister a concerned look. “I really hope you’re right,” she said quietly.

Anna’s smile broadened into a very confident, knowing grin. “I usually am about this kind of thing,” she stated simply.

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 1991

Weirdly enough, even if I was only 3 years old, there is one (1) song on this list which is there purely because of nostalgia, so.... yep, this is where the nostalgia bias actually starts, believe it or not.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

This list was wayyyy easier to make than the previous ones and I’ve actively listened to everything on it at some point or another in my life.

Also, after 1989 my sources for the French year-end lists are way more reliable, so that’s always something.

10 - Fading Like a Flower (Roxette)

US: #44 / FR: Not on the list

I swear this was already on this list in my drafts before reading the recent news. It was a bit of a shock.

Rest in peace.

9 - Shiny Happy People (REM)

US: #100 / FR: #86

Long ago, I saw someone calling this song REM’s worst song because it was, and I quote, “too happy to feel genuine, to the point of being disturbing”.

Implying that’s a flaw and not a feature.

8 - Je t’Aime Mélancolie (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #39

I don’t know who told Mylène Farmer she could mumble rap but that person needs to be found and... uh, and nothing, because the verses kinda suck but they’re just mildly annoying at worst and kinda funny at best. The music and the chorus are great though, to the point where I’m willing to put up with the rest.

That’s the point where someone who knows about her discography would go “but Johannes if you wanted to put an average MF hit song from 1991 on this list, Regrets was right there” and to that I’d answer “does this list look like a funeral?”

7 - Wind of Change (Scorpions)

US: #39 / FR: #3

Oooooh I listened to this a lot when I was 16. I even bought a battered vinyl version I found in a garage sale, just for collector purposes. You all know it, and I don’t have anything particularly interesting to say about it, but yeah, still great song to this day.

6 - Poupée Psychédélique (Thierry Hazard)

US: Not on the list / FR: #8

It’s a song mocking fashion and some of the ridiculous standards expected from women - the singer basically makes a long list of qualities and clothes for his completely artificial “psychedelic doll” who has “infinite legs” but who’s also made of “100% synthetic matter” and “needs batteries”.

This song is the one which landed on the list purely because of nostalgia, though. According to my father, little Johannes would start dancing every time it was on the radio, and yeah, I remember not getting most of the words of the song, nor, of course, the subtext. To tiny me, this was clearly a song about a guy who had an incredibly cool doll and wanted to tell the whole world about it.

I still like the song a lot today, mind you.

5 - The One and Only (Chesney Hawkes)

US: #93 / FR: Not on the list

This is on my “Fitz Kreiner” playlist and it’s one of my chosen theme songs for Fitz. I only discovered it a few years ago but I enjoy it a lot.

4 - Né en 17 à Leidenstadt (Fredericks, Goldman & Jones)

US: Not on the list / FR: #64

Nothing I could say would make that one justice if you don’t know about it yet (which I kind of expect since I’m pretty sure most of my followers don’t speak French to begin with), so here’s the song itself, and here’s a translation.

I love it but I respect it even more, to be honest.

3 - Losing My Religion (REM)

US: #33 / FR: #16

I have a strange history with this one, because it used to be very high on my lists of favorite songs. VERY.

And then... I don’t know. I got fed up with it in absolute record time. And it disappeared from my lists, my tapes, my head, everything. I genuinely don’t know. I still like it, I guess? It’s fine?

What happened? It’s like someone used one of these memory-wipe things from Men In Black to make me forget why I ever liked this song. ♫ That’s me in the corner, that’s me in the spotlight, losing my favorite songs ♫

I’ve got no clue. It’s still #3 for this 1991 list, though.

2 - Crazy (Seal)

US: #75 / FR: #31

I. Adore. This song.

I mean. Of course I do, it’s almost at the top of this list. But hear me out. For literal years, I only had one (1) partial recording of it on a tape, beginning in the middle of the last sentence of the first verse, I didn’t know who was singing it or what it was called, I labelled it “? a little crazy?” on the sticker, and that was it. And yet I would listen to that song a lot. A looooooot. It is that good, and it’s a shame I never really connected with this guy’s songs again afterwards, but that one right there? Amazing.

I finally found what it was around 2004, and it instantly claimed a spot on my top 30, right next to friggin Moonlight Shadow.

If it was any other year, it would claim the top spot very easily.

Alas, this is 1991. There was always going to be one obvious winner and no one else.

1 - Désenchantée (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #2

I will forever be salty about this monster of a hit being denied its year-end #1 on the FR chart by a terrible novelty song. F o r e v e r.

About 17 years after I first made contact with Mylène Farmer, I’m no longer a real fan, I’m aware all of her stuff is deeply flawed and always was, and she’s mostly made some pretty subpar music since then.

None of this matters one bit because this song about a “disenchanted generation” is a f█cking amazing accidental Millenial anthem and it's still relevant to this day (”everything is chaos around me / all my ideals are just damaged words / I’m looking for a soul who’d be able to help me / I’m from a disenchanted generation / disenchanted”).

Did I like it back when I was making my lists on paper, though?

Um.

Yeah.

A fair bit.

And it’s accompanied by a ten-minutes-long music video depicting a rebellion against some generic unnamed fascist regime in some sort of prison or camp, and ending with the victorious rebels facing an endless plain and wondering where to go next and where to start again. The music video itself is, again, very flawed but still impressive and I really like the general idea of “rebellion is difficult, and messy, and scary, and sometimes it has to happen regardless of all of that”.

If you’ve never seen this music video before (the actual song starts around 1:30), well, it’s Mylène Farmer right in the middle of her Ultimate Goth Phase(tm) (for crying out loud there’s a crow on the album cover) so, uh, here’s various trigger warnings for fire, people getting hit in various ways, firearms, stones and glass bottles being thrown, blood, rats, and also, someone eating a bug. Enjoy, or not.

Also, this is what convinced me to cut my hair super short as soon as I was able to do so (2003 - my mother was not pleased) AND to wear a black cap on my head. I still have that cap. I still wear it. That’s just a footnote but yeah. Thanks, Désenchantée. I owe you one.

Next up: the list where I definitely lose the respect of everyone reading these lists hoping for actual quality.

[girlbabyvelez]

Lies? // Zabdiel de Jesus

Word Count: 1,522

Warnings: cursing and angst

Note: Wowowow yall really wanted a part two to For The Best? Any who you asked and I delivered but I bet this isn’t what y’all wanted bc it’s really unedited and I had to rewrite it and its almost one any who here ya go. Hehe anywho love you and this is for my special friend @wowvelez who i love with my whole ass heart and she really wanted this so here you go bbygirl I hope you like it!

The bed dipped underneath the weight of the boys, their laughs and teasing remarks waking you from your much needed sleep. They both placed their hands on your shoulder and back and began to shake you to make sure you were awake and they only response you gave was a groan.

“Come sleeping beauty it’s time for us to get ready to go,” Johann whispered in your ear and laughed. You opened one eye to look at him, you could tell he had just woken up because of his messy hair. You sighed and turned your body around to face the other boy that came to wake you up. Yoandri looked down at you with an innocent smile which your adored because you knew he wasn’t innocent.

“Fine. But why do you guys even want me to go with you guys?” You ask, trying one last time to get out of it. You were dreading seeing Joel again because you hadn’t seen him since the breakup with Zabdiel. None of the boys had actually talked to you since that day, you understood why but it still hurt because they were like your brothers.

“Come Y/N. You can do this,” Yoandri encourages. You places one hand underneath your back and slowly pushes you up into a sitting position on the bed. You run a hand through your hair to at least tame your bed head but it didn’t work by the amused looks from Johann and Yoandri.

“Okay okay.” You surrender. They just laugh and watch as you escape to the bathroom to get ready before they made their way to their room to do the same.

You sat at the table with your best friends, your knee was propped up on the chair and you played with the frayed strands of your ripped jeans. You were just ready for Joel to get here so you guys can quickly say hi to each other and he would be with the boys and you would seek refuge with Emilia.

“Y/N ¿Estás bien?” Johann asks you noticing that you were absent in the conversation. You look up from the jeans to meet the eyes of your friend and you somehow manage to put on a smile and nod.

“Yeah. Look don’t let me get in the way of you guys having fun with Joel. He’s your best friend and it’s his birthday,” You tell him. And even though you guys hadn’t talked in a month, you still deeply cared for Joel.

“Hola hola,” You heard Joel. You turn in your seat to see him walking up to you guys, and his eyes widen in surprise for a moment with the fact that you were there. He thought you wouldn’t want to see him after what happened. He went to the boys first and gave them hugs and they wished up a happy birthday before he turned to you.

“Y/N, what a surprise. It’s nice to see you,” Joel greets you and he outstretched his arms for a hug which you hesitantly take.

“Happy Birthday,” You whisper in his ear and smile gently at him.

“By the way, tonight we’re going to a club to celebrate. You should come, Zabdiel would like to see you. He misses you,” Joel whispers back at you and you freeze in his arms. Did you hear him correctly? You pull away and Joel could see the question you wanted to ask him by the way you looked at him.

“Really. Now let's go look for outfits for tonight,” Joel confirms and somehow the 5 of you guys are making your way to all the stores and taking countless pictures together. In the back of your head, you could still hear those words Joel whispered to you. Zabdiel misses you.

The lights danced all over the club, barely illuminating anybody for longer than a couple seconds. You wiped your hands on the front of your jeans like you were wiping away your nervousness. You hadn’t seen Zabdiel in a month, since the day he ended things with you, and you weren’t sure where things were going to go but you were hopeful after your conversation with Joel.

Somehow through the crowded dance floor you were able to find him. Zabdiel’s skin glistened in the light because of his sweaty body and his blonde cropped hair was bouncing with his movements. Your heart stopped cold though, you saw him there with Greicy. He had his crotch pressed to her ass, grinding into her and moving with her body. This was for the best? The best for him and you was to end so he could do this?

Your heart dropped at the sight and your chest constricted. You felt like a fool. Zabdiel and you weren’t together so you couldn’t be mad because he was with her. But you were mad, mad at yourself for believing you could get him back and mad at him because he lied to you and said this was for the best. You spent so much of the past month regretting the decision, thinking that both of you guys could have figured it out and you both would be happy. But he seemed to be happy without you.

The pain rushed through your body, at this point your heart was in your stomach and you could feel the tears begin to well up in your eyes. It was like you were experiencing the heartbreak all over again but it all seemed worse because you were in a crowded club, before you could deal with your heartbreak in private. You wipe some tears that managed to fall and turn on your heels, you needed to get out, you needed to get home.

“Aye lets go dance!” Johann shouts at you over the loud music, unaware of your heartbreak and pain. You take a shaky breath and try to make sure your voice was stable enough. You didn’t want to ruin their night.

“I’m going to get a couple drinks first. But go have fun!” You shout back and you could feel him leave. You move some hair out of your face and whip out your phone, quickly getting an Uber so you could be back in the comfort of your hotel room. You wished you never came back to Miami but here you were, a heart broken mess.

You take a couple of steps over to the bar, leaning against it for support because your body was shaking. Before you left, you definitely needed a strong drink and your ride was a couple of minutes away. You call the bartender and order yourself a few shots of tequila. The alcohol would numb the pain right? Wrong. But you still downed them anyway.

“Y/N?” It was the damn voice. The voice that would whisper sweet nothings in your ear in the middle of the night while he cuddled you, the voice that would comfort you at any times, the voice of the man you loved. You gently set the shot glass on the counter, running your tongue over your lips and refusing to turn around. Why didn’t he just stay on the dance floor until you left?

“Y/N,” He repeats and you could feel his body towering over yours at this point. You turn around, trying to hide any evidence of your heartbreak but Zabdiel knew you too well. “¿Estás bien?” He asks you but that only gets a scoff back.

“No Zabdiel. But what does it matter to you?” You retort. You were so tired of being heartbroken, you were so tired of being hurt and wishing you were still with this man. You were tired of everything.

“Y/N-” He begins but you don’t even give him the chance to finish.

“No Zabdiel. Leave me alone. You lied to me and broke me. For the best my ass,” You spit out and you step to the side so you can leave. He’s stunned for a moment, taking in your words but then he’s back on your heels. He reaches out and grabs your arm, spinning you around so you could face him, so you could face everything.

“What do you mean? This was for the best!” He tells you. You roll your eyes, trying to shake his grip off your arm so you could leave this place and never see him again, but he wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

“¡Suéltame!” You shout but it wasn’t what he was used to. He could sense the rage in your tone and he knew he fucked up. “Go ahead Zabdiel. Go be with Greicy if that’s what you really wanted. But you didn’t have to lie,”

And with that you were gone. You were out of his reach and storming out of the club while he stood there confused and hurt. You were out of his life and he was out of yours, now he regrets every decision he ever made, by trying to protect you from the life of fame he ended up hurting you deeper than he could ever imagine.

[paulineguillouzichnd1]

TRIPTYC

 Project

Without the use of words produce a series of connected images that visually illustrate who you are?

Exploring the work of other photographers and/or artists will help you develop a ‘visual story’ for your own work.

Give some thought to the things that are important to you. Everything you have ever done, the places you visit, the music you love, the stuff you keep, the memories and mementos carefully stored away are all part of what makes you unique. Consider how you might best illustrate who you are?

Produce:

1. Relevant research, planning and development of your work in your blog page.                                                                

2. One A3 ‘triptych’ portfolio quality print (A self-portrait, a place you’re connected to, an object significant to you).

3.Three Individual full res 300ppi jpg files uploaded to My City.

Research:

A bit of history...

Triptych is a kind of painting, or rather a surface where to paint. The first triptych that I could think of was the one by Jérôme Bosch, with his painting called The Garden of Earthly Delights (painted between 1490 and 1510) that I studied back at university in France when we were working on the Renaissance period (XIV-XVI). It mostly means that this period was a clear turning point from Middle Age in Art, Humanism, Science, Religion and generally in life (the printing press invented by Johannes Gutenberg, exploring the world, trade...) and really, the idea of creating my own triptych was very scary at that point.

I kept on doing some research, googling “triptych painting” “triptych photography” and was extremely surprised when I found out that triptych were actually a lot older: Middle Age where

“Les premiers exemples de polyptyques apparaissent en effet entre le Xe et le XIIe siècle, qu’il s’agisse encore de petits objets – essentiellement des diptyques et triptyques – voués à la dévotion personnelle, ou bientôt de grands retables placés sur les autels [dans les] églises et des chapelles.”

(’The first examples of polyptychs appeared between the 10th and 12th century, whether small objects -mostly diptychs and triptychs, destined for personal devotion, or soon great altarpiece, placed on altars [in] churches and chapels’) 

page 1, Du triptyque, ou d’une forme entre tradition et modernité

These 3 panels were, then, not just a biblical reference (Holy Trinity?) but also a practical choice to have your painting standing and seen by the audience from their seats. Easily moved as well from one place to another (I know well enough that kings at that time were packing and moving their furniture, clothes, important stuffs with them from one castle to another-secretly thanking my parents for having me visiting that many castles in France when I was a kid :P)

But then, again, the more I got to see paintings, photographs described as triptychs, the more I came to realise that triptychs had lost their ‘practicality’, being hang on walls, looked at but soon forgotten. It somehow made me feel a bit sad: why should paintings be statics as objects that are going to stand there? It surely is difficult to take your paintings/photographies with you once they’re finished (Ryanair would charge you a lot of money for that...) but in any new place where I’ve lived, my books, photographies and paintings have always been there to remind me of who I was, where I was coming from and I usually have with me a selection of the ones I like the most.

This reminded me of Byōbu (Japanese screen), how you get to use art in your everyday life, hiding/privacy... or worshipping?

Back to History...

During the 19th Century (and especially around 1880-1890) in Europe, painters used this form of canvas as a sort of commemoration of tradition and modernity: religious subjects, structured as the ones produced during the Middle Age, but with far more bigger dimensions (the one example underneath, Saint Cuthbert by Ernest-Ange Duez (1843-1896), was exposed at the Salon de la Société des Artistes Français in 1879 and was more than 6 meters long.

19th Century, resurgence of TRIPTYCHS !

It’s very funny/ambiguous  to see that painters would choose that type of canvas to paint, and especially at that time in History. The 19th century in France (beginning of it - until 1850, roughly) saw the birth of Romantic writers (I’m thinking of Victor Hugo in France, William Wordsworth and John Keats in England, E. T. A. Hoffmann in Germany) or painters (Caspar David Friedrich with his Wanderer above the Sea of Fog, Francisco de Goya, Eugene Delacroix with his self-portrait where he paints himself as Hamlet or his painting called La liberty guidance le people (Liberty leading the people). Romantics like the Bible as it is an endless source of inspiration for them, dramatic stories to paint, or write about (no judgment intended!).

However, at the end of the 19th century, most artists would claim themselves as Realists (or Naturalists) which implied a true-to-life style which involves the representation or depiction of nature (including people) with the least possible distortion or interpretation. It sought to portray real and typical contemporary people and situations with truth and accuracy, and not avoiding unpleasant or sordid aspects of life. The movement aimed to focus on unidealized subjects and events that were previously rejected in art work. Realist works depicted people of all classes in situations that arise in ordinary life, and often reflected the changes brought by the Industrial and Commercial Revolutions.

How comes that in this particular time of History, painters would choose on purpose a type of painting whose main connotations were ‘Middle Age’ and ‘Religious subjects’? when one of their main subjects was real life: working class, farmers, factories, coal mine and that this period is also somehow related strikes, popular movement and the rise of socialism/anarchism?

Life is full of contradictions :) 

L'Oeuvre de la goutte de lait", Jean Geoffroy (1903)

Le bon marche (The good market), Felix Vallotton, 1898.

La Mine: La Descente ; Le Calvaire ; La Remonte, (Mine: descending, the calvary, climbing up)

Other paintings:

Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion, Francis Bacon, 1944

Three Studies of Lucian Freud, Francis Bacon, 1969

Bacon, as a painter, is someone I deeply admire. He’s not afraid of what most people would find scary or shocking. 

Although he was declared as unfit for active wartime service, lots of his paintings remind me of what we call ‘the broken faces’ (Les gueules casses) in French), disfigured soldiers from WW1 and WW2. Looking at his paintings is discomforting, unsettling. You want to look away but it’s also hard to do so. It’s powerful, in your face, disturbing but also hypnotising somehow?

It reminds me of the Motion blur in photography, as a representation of both physical and mental issues or simply this continuous mental conversation people have with themselves. Personal problems that are unresolved.

OR

Edward Honaker

Kyle Thompson

General:

When I started looking into what triptycs were, I loved this one example and the use of lines and the characters’s way of looking at each other and guiding the viewer into the paiting:

I also felt slightly claustrophobic about the idea of having so much details and stuff going on in my triptyc so I thought that the best way for me to give the viewer some space would be to make it as straigthforward and empty as possible but I wanted the “place” to be the same on the three pictures and be my link between the different photos as in the example above (cathedral?).

I came up with this drawing which was a first idea of what I wanted my triptyc to look like in the end:

On the left side, OBJECT, in the middle PLACE and on the right side SELF-PORTRAIT.

I would have to be very careful with the left and right pictures that were meant to be taken at a specific angle and match each other. The central picture would have been a family portrait. The table was meant to be the element that the 3 pictures had in common, guiding the viewer into the photo.

Black and White: I didn’t even really concider using colour pictures as I think Black and White Pictures give a better sense of what I wanted to express in my triptych.

OBJECT: Memories.

I chose to use my diary as an object because I’ve been journalling since I was roughly 8 or 9  and still have my notebooks from that time. It’s an incredible experience for me to open and re-read these journals. It feels like I’m back in the past at that exact moment and I almost see the younger version of myself, sitting on a chair and recording her memories. It felt a bit cheesy and cliché at first but it then became a cathartic exercise. It has now become a daily habit, 20 mns of writing, no lie, just the plain truth, my truth as it is (and its not just pretty and beautiful!)

PLACE: Rest[e]. In French, Reste means stay. I have always found funny that this particular word was so close to the English word Rest which involves an idea of settling, relaxing and peace of mind. For me staying and relaxing have long been two words that were almost like enemies: I needed to travel, I needed to go to the next place, I didn’t want to stop because that’d have been the end of me. But the older I get, the more I realise that I need to rest[e], I just don’t know where. Home is where I grew up, and more than a place, home is a composition of people that I have always had around me: parents, brother, sisters and friends. I wanted them in my pictures: memories of birthdays, Christmas and laughters . These endless meals sitting at the table and time stops.

SELF-PORTRAIT: I personally find it hard to deal with emotions and have had mood swings since a young age, experiencing panick attack and depression since I was a teenager. As many of us, I have learnt to put a smile on my face because that’s easier. I felt that having a static self-portrait would be a lie as my personality is so changing. When I found out about Picasso. I remember watching some of his paitings and seing them moving (face, places) and fet impressed. I also wanted to use where I was looking as a way to ‘direct’ the viewer in the tryptic, looking back at my PLACE and OBJECT, living with memories. The outside photos are black and white and could be anywhere. The central picture however is home, or a memory of home, one of the numerous ones recorded in my diary.

First attempt self-portrait: I was working with a shutter speed between 3 and 6 seconds. The 2 main challenges were to find a shutter speed that would have my faces standing and lying on the table with the motion blur in between.

One thing I didn't really consider was the angle of the table because ideally I wanted my triptych to have a symmetrical effect between the picture on the left (my object) and on the right side of the middle picture (family table).

This is my second attempt: same shutter speed but now, the table has a different angle. I made sure the left angle of the table was visible (I wanted the table to be on each picture, almost as a timeline/virtual line to give a sense of unity.

Last week, when we critted each other’s tryptic, one o the comments that was made was about the corner of the table (self portrait) that wasn’t visible enough, so I also worked with photoshop (shadows, highlight and exposure + brightness) to change it. It still isn’t perfect but the photos were taken one week apart in different studios.

The way I sit is also an echo of the middle picture (the one where I am sitting at my table back in France). Memories, and sometimes the sadness of being apart from your family can be heavy at times.

I am looking towards the first picture, looking back (at my memories?).

OBJECT:

As mentioned earlier, the object I chose is my diary. I almost wanted it to look like a still life picture: the viewers can see that someone has just left and was writing at that table a few minutes ago but has now left. What they need to focus on is this page: Why is that open? That’s the end of a diary. Why has the person gone?

I made several attempt at taking that picture: with a different pencil, with a hairdryer (and the pages being blurred). I also thought about being on the picture a bit like a ghost but then it just ended not having a good effect, there was too much of me in the 3 pictures.

OR

FAMILY PORTRAIT:

The place was meant to be an echo of my living room back in France (food, family or friends, wine, laughter), and opposed to the two sides of the table, that aren’t home to me. The table clothes, the mess, the framing that looks more of what my dad would take as a family picture isn’t even correct: the lady on the left is off-frame, and so is her plate. What we see here is someone just grabbing a camera and shooting without really thinking about composition. Spontanous, recording a good moment. I think this triptyc talks a lot about recording, remembering, not forgetting as well.

I used two ladies to help me (their matching clothes and hair is pure coincidence) as I live in a family of women and women are extremely strong in my family (men too!!).

The two students were super patient and we tried different head movement (up and down, left-right). Grant played my part while I was framing the photo and then I sat in the middle.

The way I sit is meant to be an echo of the way I sit in my self-portrait, as a memory kept in my mind, a version of myself I used to be but that has partly gone now. It’s also a triptyc about moving on but being stuck in memories as well

Material I use : a tripod, my DSLR, a 24-105mm lense set at 70mm, the school studio and a few people to help me with the PLACE.

FINAL TRIPTYCH:

Evaluation:

I have been surprised from the feedback I got from the other students who, I thought, got it very well. I feel that I would have wanted to try to have the tables not on a straight line but rather with an angle, as first plan but I feel that I didn’t have the technique (studio wise) to achieve it in a rather short period of time (studios being available only on certain days). I think that if I was to redo it, I’d probably make sure I’d have a better control over the light (first and third picture) and plan my second picture a little bit better (models, position of my models). I am really happy about my third picture and to have attempted to try the motion blur, as it is a technique that is widely used amongts photographers (I’m thinking about the exhibition on portraits with Francesca Woodman!)

[miamaroo]

Northern Migration- Chapter 26 (Notes + Preview)

I hope you’re having a good holiday season, because I am currently lost in the sauce and I don’t know how to get back up. Either way, we’re going to be updating this a little bit sooner than I really should because I need the validation or something like that. Huh. Remember that this right here is brimming with a whole heck of a lot of spoilers, so beware!

Spoilers!

I am in the very unique position of being the only TAZ writer who has no idea how to write Angus. I definitely have his speech patterns pretty incorrect, like I’m certain he does not sound half as formal as I’m writing him to be. I think the problem is that since Stevie is the immature, pseudo-realistic 10 year old character, putting a cartoony genius character of the same age in the same story feels off. Now the solution to that would be to adjust Angus’s character so that he’s also more childlike, but I guess I’m just in too deep now to change anything.

I could probably get away with claiming that his formalness is a defense mechanism for being in a situation where he doesn’t feel safe. Whether I go with that reasoning or not has yet to be determined.

Shoving in a mention of Brian as someone who tried uncovering information about the Grand Relics was probably the least smooth I’ve ever been with these kinds of things.

I think in another like, Stevie would like Angus as a human being and would probably enjoy having him as a friend. As it stands now, she’s a bit too wound up by everything to not be on the defensive at all times.

Also shoutout to everyone who thought Stevie was swearing out Taako. Nope, it’s another ten year old!

And if I haven’t already butchered Angus enough, I will also concede that him realizing that they aren’t evil enough to agree to team up with them was also done really poorly. I will probably find some chapter in the future where that switch in perspective is explored more deeply.

Bane’s still relevant. Just in case you forgot.

So after 26 chapters, I’m finally giving Killian some love and attention. The upcoming arc is going to deal a lot with her past and how she came upon her mission to get rid of the Grand Relics, so I’m super excited for what’s to come. I still wish I had enough sense to squeeze more about her in sooner, but to tell the truth, there have been a few times where she’s vaguely mentioned a key part of her backstory that I don’t think anyone has really caught onto yet. I think it’s going to be fun to learn the complete tale and just be like “huh. that’s why she brought that up.”

As before mentioned in an earlier chapter, Killian forgot Brian so the person in her past she’s struggling to pin a name to is him.

Carey’s here and still relevant! I would not be a good TAZ writer if I didn’t let these two girls get together. Considering how much of this story I have left and hundred other plot threads I’m tackling, I’m probably not going to get them to the marriage level by the end, but goddamnit am I going to try to get them as far along as I can!

I’m also really bad at flirting in general, so who even knows if Killian and Carey’s flirting is as cute and awkward as I think it is.

Barry is not capable of growing a beard, but he can swing a mustache. The problem is that it always looks like a pornstache and everyone hates it.

That is Ren’s canonical last name, according to the Mysterious Package Company’s Taako’s School bundle.

Everything about the moon is a case study of how not to be subtle about worldbuilding, but I’ll be damned if I was just gonna dump like 500 words down the drain.

And I need to stop writing song lyrics. This is not a musical and I’m not good at them.

I think Barry is this weird combination of being calculating because he can perceive a lot about others but also awkward because he’s not really aware of how much more perceptive he is than the average person. He’s a smart dude and kinda forgets that not everyone is on his level.

I have big plans for Johann for the future of this fic, so I’m trying to start pushing him and his emotional journey to the forefront, meaning that I can now start addressing questions like how does Johann feel about being rescued in part by someone he cognitively knows is one of the bad guys.

A lot of people have rightly been asking me why Julia and Davenport haven’t tried to undo the damage Wonderland caused via the Oculus. I am willing to admit that I initially figured that my reasoning with the broken bonds was obvious, but naturally I realized that I was wrong. I was super duper wrong. So here’s your in universe explanation.

For those who wants an explanation not through the lense of Merle: the Animus Bells breaks bonds, and since the Oculus can’t repair those bonds (especially with how thoroughly Edward and Lydia approached these things), any attempts of recreating missing limbs will ultimately not work. So for Davenport’s hand, the bond that allows Davenport to have a right hand is broken, so no hand can be added to his right side. Technically, can he give himself a gun for a hand? Yes, but let’s not. 

This chapter is a little weird because it has Davenport using texts to convey his thoughts, as a general note, I am having a fun time trying to figure out what body language I can give him that conveys what dialogue would normally do. In a way, it’s a fun writing exercise.

Davenport’s emotional recovery is going to be an up and down battle, but at least he’s starting it.

I came up with Merle’s speech at the end there all the way back before I even had that scene with a possessed Taako taunting Julia in the bar. And I’ve been hanging onto it for so long, just waiting for the moment I could write it down here and get it out of my system. And I’m just happy that it exists on paper now and I can stop worrying that I’m going to forget parts of it. 

Hopefully, I’ll be ready to update again either before the New Years or just in time for the one year anniversary of this fic. I honestly can’t believe that I’ve really been working on this for so long, and I hope that this thing will be finished before we see birthday number 2.

Here’s the preview of the next chapter:

Chin balanced on hand, Taako leans into the table and watches the scene before him break down—Angus, trying to heave a stack of books to the chalkboard Lucretia had set up in the kitchen while Stevie blocks his path. Both of them are tiny little twerps, but Stevie rocks onto the tips of her toes, holding the flat of her hand to the tip of her head as she tries to measure herself to Angus. “C’mon,” she whines. “I just wanna check!”

“Please— I have very important work I need to be doing right this moment,” Angus says, trying to look over the topmost book on the stack. His glasses threaten to fall off his nose.

Stevie jams her hand on top of his head, trying to keep him pinned in place. “Stop moving!”

Angus leans over, giving the nearest adult a pleading look. Considering that Lucretia went with Davenport to look for a few documents in his office, that meant Taako. “Um, please sir? A little hand?”

“Yeah!” Stevie crosses her arms over her chest, puffing out her chest in a huff. “You judge. Who’s taller?”

Rolling his eyes, Taako slinks to his feet. “Alright. If it gets you two to shut up already. Get back to back…” Angus puts his books down, making sure to stand with his back as straight as possible as Stevie practically bounces in her places. Taako circles them like a shark, finger on chin as he hums. “Hmm, this is a tough one.” They’re fairly close in height, but Taako knows which answer he should give if he wants the max amount of entertainment for the next few days. But when he places his hand on their heads, he realizes he doesn’t even need to lie.

He hides his grin, trying to look pensive as he steeples his fingers over his mouth. “I see.”

Stevie is all but buzz, trying to get her own hand in a position that shows the height difference that she can also see. “Spill it! Who’s taller?”

“There’s no easy way of saying this, but it looks like Angelo here just the tinniest, uh, slimmest bit taller.”

“It’s Angus, sir,” Angus chimes.

Stevie freezes. “Huh? No way!” She twists between him and Angus, frustration building on her face. “But—but—but I’ve always been the tallest in my class!”

[...]

Angus stares at her for a long moment, blinking as he puzzles through his situation. Taako can practically see the math around his head melt away the moment the lightbulb goes off. “Oh, I get it!” Angus grins, pointing a finger up like a real nerd. “You’re jealous I get to help while you’re still grounded.”

Stevie stares.

“Don’t worry,” Angus rambles, reaching for his stacks of books once more. “I’m sure you’ll get the opportunity to help in due time, though I’m not sure where since, while I don’t know you well, I get the sense that you don’t have any particular skills that could aid us—”

Stevie jumps onto him, tackling Angus into his stack of books. 

[theroastedpoosqueery-blog]

On johann and tenma dynamic or something

((@jyuanka so yea i wanted to bounce back on what you were saying but its so long i figured i should make a new post lmao ))

There are so many interesting characters in monster (eva being maybe the first one), but the dynamic between tenma and johann is really whats does the deal for me. Their relationship is what builds the plot, like two poles of a battery that supports the entire story ! and they only met four times !! i love that its so unclear why both of them are so intent on having the other in their line of sight, like their obsession with each other is never really explained and we can only have so many speculations. Since its monster, it cant be something like ‘good tenma absolutely want to destroy johann for world peace”/ “evil johann absolutely want to destroy tenma because hes…evil”.

(you said  you wanted to yell about monster so uh im taking advantage of it lol)

For tenma, we first think that all of this it is to prove his innocence. But the narrative voice shows us several times that this is not the case (grimmer who tells him that he should not go so far just to get his name cleared -> close-up on tenma’s face that darkens and tenma who doesnt answer = tenma does not do that to prove his innocence, theres something else). And frankly who would go that far just for that? Tenma realizes very quickly that destroying johan is,,,more than complicated and that he could lost his life at any point. He could go to a remote part of another continent and rebuild a career as a doctor there, under a new identity, if he wanted to (maybe johann wouldnt let him, but the obsession johann has for tenma is something that the latter understood at the end so he wouldnt know that at the beginning of the series). Nor is it because he has a savior syndrome and he absolutely wants to protect people (orrr well a little lol), because tenma doesnt seem to be interested in politics or in social justice at the beginning of the series. What i mean is that, like everyone, he knows that the world is unfair and that folks are dying because of horrible situations and horrible people (idk like because of the mafia, because of capitalists, because of fascists, because of human trafficking, etc). Like, everyone knows that, and some of us react and actually do things like direct actions, lobbies, associations, politics, or even just talk about it. But Tenma really doesnt seem to be that moved or concerned, hes more the type to be like “whatever. Dont see ? hasnt happened”. Yet when he realizes that its johan who does these things, suddenly it becomes his personal business. Like people always say tenma is the “absolute good” and i really, really disagree.

He has spent his life obeying orders from despotic leaders without ever questioning himself once. He was going to marry a girl who told him that all lives are not equal, ffs! yea she says this when tenma began to think that maybe, maybe, theres something wrong with all this so this sentence shocked him. But you cant tell me that the highly horrible personality of eva is something he wasnt aware of before ! and he was alright with that, because then by marrying her he would secure a brilliant career. He saves a rich person instead of a poor turkish husband, and he have to see his crying widow who tries to punch him to realize that maybe what he did wasnt really okay. And he was past his thirties, so its not a question of “the poor baby didnt knew there was inequality in the world and what he was doing was not nice ! “. He knew, and he chose again and again, for most of his life, to please a corrupt man to promote his career and have a good and safe life. So for me tenma is so, so problematic ! Because Tenma is the sort of man who sees what is wrong, but who chooses not to do anything against it. isnt this kind of people the worst ?? and thats why i love him ! and thats why his radical evolution caused by johann (when he saves the boy, then when he chooses to kill him), is so intriguing.

So yea tenma dont want to destroy johann just so people will be safe or for world peace or wtv  BS -because he spent most of his life not caring about that, or caring but not to the point of getting personally involved. I think little johann is what triggers tenma to do something for the first time of his life. He goes from the guy who sees what is wrong but who doesnt feel like he can react so he just goes with the flow and become as horrible as everyone else, making him worse because he knows thats wrong -> to the guy who chooses, to the guy with an agency who decides to react. Little johan makes tenma becoming a person, its his trigger to personhood. And thats why, after his first encounter with johann, tenma become so different. Imo, the real monster is tenma in the beginning of the series - and johann makes him someone who uses his agency, he renders him human !

So 9 years later, when tenma finds out that the trigger of his humanity is actually the very negation of what is human, it goes ‘bam’ in his brain. We can understand why ! During this 9 years, he had the time to inhabit his new role of “a person with an agency” - he seems so calm, so confident and happy. Hes not the guy who knew that everything was wrong but just followed orders and closed his eyes anymore, he has a personhood and uses his newfound humanity to make the world a better place. He has a sense of purpose and realizes what it is that life is worth living (okay im projecting here lmao). Above all, he thinks that the choice he made (to become a person) is ultimately absolutely good. But then he meet johan for a second time, and actually realizes -wait, so me becoming a person can causes bad things ? was i wrong ? should i have stayed how i was before ?

And then we enter what is the core of Monster : we just follow someone who struggles to define what is being human. Before, like i said, tenma wasnt using his personhood. After johann triggers him to become a person, he basically lives a morally ideal life -save people, be a good person, no headaches of ‘what should i do’. The people who could have forced him to make actual difficult choices (his corrupt chief ) were conveniently dead. Then he met adult-johan, and bam ! so many contradictions. suddenly the answer is not that clear anymore. Then he realizes than with personhood comes the obligation to make dubious moral choices. Because for each choice we make, there are negatives consequences and positives ones, and we have to judge when the positives outcomes prevails on the negatives ones without ever being sure. And i think tenma chasing johan is him refusing this existing situation, is him trying to run away from the negatives consequences of becoming a person. Its him on a quest to know if getting access to personhood is absolutely good, a quest to know if his reason of living is legitimate. He cant think that there are not absolutely good choice, that sometimes the good choice can be to kill someone - or to save them, depending on the situation. There isnt absolute anymore : no real monsters, no real good person. We’re just human who struggles to do what we can. Once you have an agency, you have to take decisions. So for tenma, who basically have never taken decisions to construct himself as a person, his johann-hunting is basically that : hes chasing after his own definition of humanity. Whether he would have choose to kill johan or not, at the end, the manga completed the mission : theres no good choice, only choice you think are the best at one point. If he had chosen to kill johan, he would have chosen to kill someone ; if he had chosen to not kill him, he would have chosen to let someone else die. Whats better ? I am not sure. Personally, i think that if i could kill certain people i would do it, while knowing that this people are humans like me, just raised in different circumstances, because my ideas and my buddies’ lives are worth more than the life of the ones who threatens us : thats my answer of humanity. We alas dont get to see tenma’s answer… but anw. Thats my personal interpretation of what johann makes tenma do lol.

For Johann, the reason for his obsession with tenma is even less clear for me. Why johann wants tenma to understand him, to see him, so badly ? What makes tenma so special ? Johan seems to have a daddy complex, because tenma not the first middle-age man to have the dubious pleasure to be the object of johan desire to show “his” world to someone else. General wolf and schuwald both had to loose everything that was dear to them until they only have johann who then betray them deeply. But these two dont seem to catch the “scenery of the doomsday” so dear to johann ; and yet johann appears to be convinced that tenma can (and so that tenma is the one who should kill him). Why is that ? Why tenma is so different than wolfe and schuwald ?

I have numerous ideas but not one that convinced me too much. The first one would be how their first encounter resonates with them both and had the same effect of ‘triggering their humanity’. I already explained why i think johann is tenma’s personhood trigger. I also think tenma is johann’ trigger to humanity. Its kind of simple : tenma is the first one to show him that human could be good. Tenma saves him and risk his career without ulterior motives (or at least material motives, because like i said there were many philosophical and psychological stakes for tenma). For johann, who never knew that humans could be like that because his childhood environment was kind of,,not good, and who is still young enough to be impressionable, it could be enough to be interested in what tenma has to offer if he were to play with him. That plus the fact that he has deep parental issues and tenma is, like he said, a “second father” to him, so maybe he acts like a child would with his dad (in his twisted way), or rather with his god -tenma who creates him, tenma who destroys him. But i think its too emotional for johann.

Other idea : johann, being this prodigy, understand exactly what is tenma situation while saving him and his philosophical questions -lets keep in mind that tenma talks to johan often whil the boy is in a coma. He understands that tenma chooses ultimately *personhood* over everything that could make his life easy. And tenma’s answer is exactly the opposite of johann's way of seeing life, since johann chooses again and again to negate humanity. So he wants to destroy tenma’s philosophy, destroy tenma sense of what is being human : he creates the perfect life for tenma, wait for tenma to be really at ease with his situation, then slowly destroy everything until tenma would be forced to recognize the superiority of johann’ response. I really think johann is prepared to die just to win his mind game with tenma lmao, he’s that much of a sore loser.

Other theory, who dont necessarily conflicts with the others ones, its that johann didnt plan to make tenma this important in his life. He at first intended to do to tenma the same thing he had done to schuwald and wolfe, with maybe more sentiments knowing tenma was his second father and everything. But what changed his plan was tenma reactions. I dont think johann thought that tenma will go all lone ranger in the arizona forest to train to become a killer spy lmao, and when he saw that, he was like ‘oh funny’ (lets keep in mind that during the first half of the series, while he still thinks he was the one in the red rose mansion, johann is basically just playing a nihilistic game and dont put that much valor into anything). Maybe he became attached to him (whatever sort of attachment you headcanon), which was kind of a novelty to him since he didnt have any feelings toward anyone until then -his sister was himself and he was his sister, i dont think johann ever understand that nina was her own person until the end so feelings toward his sister doesnt count- and he was unsettled enough to want to keep tenma at hand. Like each time i see the schuwald arc im lmfao, when johan is all like little devilish smiles and sidelong glances each time he knows (how? no idea, he must have super powers at this point really) tenma is watching him like how much of an act it is ?? theres no reason for johann to do this ‘hihi cant catch me hellooo ;D ;D’ except being a drama queen. Which he is. so yea i cant help but wonder why he is acting this funny towards tenma lol

Or maybe johann never succeeded in negating his own humanity and ultimately couldnt bear to truly erase his own existence at the end, so he wanted someone to remember him to have a chance to live at least once -because johann understood that what makes us be is to make other people witness your existence. Tenma was the ideal candidate he stumbled upon -his sister being out of play since she was himself so not a true external witness and everyone else being too,, afraid of him or too under his charm to do anything.

AAAh so many ideas !! what is sure is that tenma is johann most important person and conversely. And since they met so infrequently the fandom has a highway to imagine other interactions. please people imagine other johan/tenma interactions. please im dying i dont understand these russian fics at all

So anyway sorry for this loooong ass post that nobody is going to read !! i just,,,,,,,,,,love monster,,,,,,,,,so much

[je-suis-clarisse]

"Who are you talking to?" The vampire asked the demon as she entered the living room, her arms filled with books. Clarisse had a plan, to lose herself in some historical fiction novels. It was her favorite way to spend time--Payne's head resting on her lap as she read and he napped. It might seem a quiet and dull way to spend time, but considering their history--'dull' was a lovely way to do so. "There is literally no one else in the house but us…" she continued, closing the door behind herself.

Her voice trailed off as she observed a figure sitting beside Payne, each of them standing up as she entered the room. The books in her arms fell to the floor in her awe. “Risse, I’m sure you need no introduction,” Payne quipped with a smirk, dipping down to pick up the tomes and set them on a tabletop before he squeezed her hand and pardoned himself to leave the two alone, Clarisse stood motionless, thinking this a terrible joke. She felt awkward standing there, waiting for someone to yell ‘gotcha!’ or ‘Surprise!’ Perhaps this was an illusion. It simply had to be. Or else she was dreaming again. Heaven knew her imagination was lively and could also seem very real. She wasn't sure. But the male stood for a moment before dipping into a bow. It seemed he too was nervous. What a strange moment this was. Instinct kicked in and Clarisse dipped into a curtsey that would have made Marie Antoinette proud. She finally broke the silence and asked, "Is this real?" "It is quite real. You seem to have quite a number of friends ‘upstairs’. One Michael Demiurgos and Seraphiel. It was she who escorted me here." "Daddy." Her voice was no higher than a whisper as she observed him standing before her. She'd never called him that in life, but he opened his arms towards her, awaiting her to join him. She couldn't. Not yet. He had to prove it. "Mouse." It was him! No one else on Earth ever called her that. Clarisse made a beeline right into his arms, tears rolling down her cheeks as his arms encircled her, holding her close and he pressed kisses to the top of her head. He still smelled the same as before, that familiar scent overwhelming her. Tobacco, ink, bourbon. He smelled just as her library did. Her love of books had come from him and every time she walked into the library, she was greeted by not only that delightful scent--his scent--but also his portrait that hung over the mantle and fireplace. The wingback chair near the fire was also something he would have loved. When she had first seen it, it brought her back to the evenings he had sat in his study, going over his papers and she had sat at his feet, leaning back against his legs, reading a book. It was the one time of day that Vivian left her in peace. Frederick, when home from school, would occasionally join them, reading or even playing a game of whist. Some of her happiest moments had been in the study. Perhaps it was why she recreated it in each place that she lived, or that at the very least, she'd had his portrait made into a miniature and had it settled on her desk. If Christopher du Volde ever worried about being forgotten, it was a silly worry, for his youngest child carried him with her each and every day. She spoke of him with affection and cried when she thought of how much she deeply missed him. "How long can you stay?" "I don't know. But let us enjoy the time." He did not have to say it twice. She looked him over, joyful that he was here before her. He looked just as she remembered except he was in more modern attire. She suspected that must have been Michael's doing. She wished Frederick were here, but he was away with Henry. There was so much to say, but where to begin? Clarisse twisted her rings around her fingers nervously until Christopher laughed. "You still have that habit after how long?" It was odd to be sitting with someone who remembered her from her mortal years. Taking hold of her hand, the two walked through the house, Christopher occasionally commenting on the beauty of her home. He teared up at the portraits from her theatre days, and how her star had skyrocketed through her the years. He had not seen her become famous, nor seen her blossom into the woman she was. But he was proud, and Clarisse felt her eyes well up with tears. She had always wondered if he would be proud. Everything that she had become, he had missed. But she had carried him with her all through the years. Be it by the locket that contained a small portrait of him, or simply by the fact that she was his daughter. He was never far from her thoughts. Yet, as they made their way through the grand home, his favourite place, beyond the study, was the garden. "This reminds me of Sunday walks at Versailles," he remarked with fondness, giving her hand another squeeze as he began to praise the gardener for his fine work. Clarisse watched them converse quietly, a smile on her features as she listened to the rich baritone of his voice speak of different plants and suggestions on more vibrant colours and fruits. He had always been a man with many interests. He had always hoped to someday meet Thomas Jefferson and discuss his gardens and Monticello with him. The only thing they differed on was slavery. Where Jefferson owned slaves (and rumour had it, slept with one and had children by), Christopher did not believe in slavery nor that he was better because of the tone of his flesh. It was something he had impressed upon his children. She had never met Jefferson, but she suspected that he would have been fond of Abraham Lincoln. Granted, the sixteenth president had been a vampire hunter, but still. He was a good man, even if their rivalry never quite died down. Leading him back to the library, Clarisse drew out a glass from her desk drawer. "I heard your mother came to see you." He murmured to her, sitting down as she poured him a glass of bourbon before settling down beside him. She flinched at the mention of Vivian and went rigid. Christopher brought his hand to hold her own again, comforting her. Looking at him, she sighed before looking away. She did not wish to discuss that hateful wretch in so precious a time with him. "What was it that she said to you that truly hurt you so much this time?" "carry the knowledge in your heart that you are unworthy of the love you seek. if your own mother hates the sight of you, why would anyone else want you? you will die alone. and you will be a forgotten grain in the hourglass of time." She recited, the words a painful stab to her heart. She did not dare repeat the line Vivian had said about her list of lovers. She knew enough women and men thought she was a whore--she was not. Considering the length of her life, her number of lovers was rather small. It was also a fine bit of irony, considering just how many Vivian herself had taken. Still, she pushed her from her mind, afraid it would beckon her back to torment her. Her voice had hitched as she spoke, her eyes meeting Christopher's and he sighed, raising her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. He hid his anger well, though she could hear the profanities he was thinking almost as if he had said them aloud. "Mouse, you must know. I always loved you and I still love you. It is wrong of me, but you know you're my favourite. You may not actually be of my blood, but I gave you my name and I never looked at you as anything but as a child of my own. From the moment that the midwife placed you in my arms, our bond was formed. I know they say new-borns can't really see, but you opened your eyes for a moment, and I swear, you smiled at me. I know that you did not. But I thought you did. And when you gripped my pinkie, you were mine. That proves her wrong already. You are loved and always will be. Your sisters and brother never quite responded to me as you did. Perhaps you knew that you had stolen my heart. It's a trend I'm sure you've continued." He paused as Clarisse smiled faintly and drew her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You have always been worthy of love and affection. The way Payne looks at you proves her wrong as well. You have so much love in your life, Clarisse. Never pay your mother heed." There were so many things that bubbled and finally erupted as the two sat together. "You don't...you don't hate me for what I am?" "You are my daughter. I know what you mean, before you object. I could never hate you, Clarisse. Is it what I would have wanted for you? No, but you have thrived, and you've become such a good woman. So no, I don't hate you. I could never and I never will." "You knew I wasn't yours…" "I didn't care. I had suspicions about all of you. But I love you all the same. Except Vivienne. She was your mother's child always. I never had a chance with her. But you. All I had to do was say your name and you were following me around the house." "Papa, you knew what she did to me. Why didn't you ever stop her?" She asked hesitantly, afraid she would offend him, but she had to know. "Clarisse Elisabeth, do you honestly think I never tried? Why do you think I brought you to your aunt and uncle's house to live after she stabbed you? I threatened divorce. I cut her out of my will. I did everything to let her know that I was not pleased and what she did was unacceptable. I did everything I could possibly do. She threatened my business. Had she said I mistreated her, she would have sent us to ruin. It could have put me in jail as well. Then I truly could do nothing for you. I didn’t know what more I could do, short of wringing her neck. Did you wish me to become a murderer?" “…” “I was tempted.” “I suspect everyone was at some point; she had that effect on people.” Father and daughter sat quietly until Clarisse crossed the room, moving to the large Steinway piano and smiling to him, she pressed her fingers to the keys. He had always loved Canon in D Major by Johann Pachelbel. It wasn't the most complex of pieces, but she had always played it well. He closed his eyes as he sat there and she simply let the music do the speaking for her. It was one of her favorite pieces as well. She'd have played him everything she knew, had they the time. Sadly, time is always the thing that people seldom have. "Mouse, you have to let me go." "Papa?" "I can't rest in peace, until you let me go. Let me rest, sweetheart." "I don't understand," she spoke, meeting his gaze and ceasing to play. She could see on his face that this conversation was clearly paining him. His arms encircled her again, holding her close, her head on his chest. Clarisse wept as she listened to his heartbeat; the sound had lulled her to sleep on many occasions. He was here, but not really. He was not a figment of her imagination, but he was...a spirit? "I was allowed to leave to finish things with you. You are my unfinished business, Mouse. I want you to let me go. This is to be our 'goodbye', Clarisse." He rocked her gently as she began to cry. She wasn't ready. However, she knew it was time. She had held onto him for centuries. She looked at Christopher, "You'll still be with me?" she asked softly. "Now and always." "If you see Nettie..." "I see her frequently as I do your son and daughter. She takes care of them for you. They bring us quite a bit of joy. She was quite touched that you named your little girl for her. As is the Queen." Christopher winked at her, taking her hands in his once more as a bright light filled the room. Clarisse covered her face, however, it was not unpleasant; it didn't harm her. But it was calling to her father, who was approaching it. Christopher smiled as he kissed her forehead once more. "You are my pride and joy, Clarisse Elisabeth. You needn't ever worry over that. You make me proud daily. And we shall meet again someday." "Papa?" "Mouse?" "Je t'aime. Toujours." "Et je t’aime, Clarisse. Toujours. Adieu, ma reinette. It is a good name for you. You certainly are a little queen." He smiled and then, he was gone. Clarisse stood there, staring at the space, feeling an emptiness within her closed. Yet, there would always be that ache. That desire to be with her family would never go away. But now, he was at peace. He was happy. They'd gotten to say everything they had needed to and that, that was enough. It was all she could ask for.

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hello jag sir would youmst like to tell us about your Favourite Opera

THE DEEP VISCERAL EXCITEMENT THAT THIS ASK JUST FILLED ME WITH .

my favourite opera is not quite an opera. it is an operetta, and perhapes that makes me a fake opera fan, but elitism is dead and old white men can kiss my ass. it is called die fledermaus which is the bat in german and is consequently the only phrase that i know in german off of the top of my head. i have gone to germany once and did not need to know any german so it’s entirely okay.

fledermaus has one of the most convoluted plots in existence, so please bear with me.

act one starts in the eisenstein residence. the eisensteins are rosalinda and gabriel, but he’s referred to as eisenstein through the operetta and i kind of hate his character, so he gets no respect from me. anyway it starts with rosalinda being flirted at by alfred, an opera singer (very meta) who is standing outside her window, very beautifully singing an aria that boils down to “rosalinda come fuck this!” rosalinda reminds him that she is married and therefore must wait will not come fuck this. at the same time, we meet adele, rosalinda’s chambermaid. she is shit at her job. she has received an invitation from her sister, the ballerina, to come to a party that the wealthy prince orlofsky is throwing in his vacation home. (it’s not actually from her sister. it’s a forgery. more on that in a bit.) so she does what is natural and tells rosalinda her aunt is fucking dying so that she can take off of work and go to this rager. adele has used this same excuse before. her aunt has been dying for so long. she actually told eisenstein at one point that her aunt was dead. she hates being a chambermaid and wants to be an actress. (very meta.) anyway, rosalinda sees through her aunt excuse and tells her to fuck off and do the dusting. rosalinda also receives an invitation to a party - one that specifically tells her to come disguised as a “hungarian princess”. then, eisenstein and his lawyer, dr. blind, who is blind, very meta, storm onstage. eisenstein is LIVID because dr. blind is a dumbass and, instead of shortening eisenstein’s prison sentence, made it longer. everyone’s very upset about the whole ordeal. then, dr. falke, an old friend of eisenstein’s, comes over and basically convinces eisenstein to blow off going to prison to come to orlofsky’s party. they “fondly” recall together the last party they went to, where eisenstein played a Funny Joke and left falke’s drunk ass on a park bench. he was dressed like a bat. (die fledermaus!!) eisenstein says bye to rosalinda because he is “going to prison”. he’s a liar and men ain’t shit. eisenstein fucks off, alfred fucks on. rosalinda tells adele to go take care of her “sick aunt” so she can… definitely not go fuck alfred. alfred is also rosalinda’s former lover, so it’s all very scandalous. he starts putting on eisenstein’s clothes to get rosalinda to, again, come fuck this. but alas, the police show up. and the governor of the prison, frank, immediately assumes that alfred is eisenstein. rosalinda doesn’t want people to think she’s cheating on her husband, because she does love him, and she actually isn’t cheating. she’s not going to come fuck this. so she forces alfred to take eisenstein’s place. he goes to prison in eisenstein’s place, but not before saying that he absolutely must kiss his “wife” before he goes. he kisses rosalinda many times. disgusting little man.

act two is in orlofsky’s house. i love orlofsky. i sang orlofsky. orlofsky is basically an extremely rich, extremely bored teenager. nothing interests him. falke pulls orlofsky aside and tells him that he has a show that he intends to put on during the party that will absolutely amuse orlofsky. orlofsky says “you know what man? make my day.” everyone shows up to the party - rosalinda, disguised as a hungarian princess; adele, disguised as an actress, wearing a dress she’s stolen from rosalinda; eisenstein, disguised as the “marquis renard”, a frenchman (eisenstein doesn’t speak french); and frank (the prison governor), disguised as “chevalier chagrin”, another frenchman (frank doesn’t speak french). orlofsky gives adele his ENTIRE WALLET to go to the game room because he doesn’t give a fuck about money and he is very attracted to actresses. he says, specifically, that “actresses are very lucky for me”. that is a REAL quote. fucking weirdo. orlofsky sings a really fab aria about how he’s seen everything and nothing amuses him. see the link in the third sentence of this paragraph. eisenstein - “the marquis” - is introduced to adele - “the actress” - and immediately points out that she looks like his maid. she makes a point of seeming AS OFFENDED AS POSSIBLE to prove that she is absolutely not a maid. frank arrives and he and eisenstein, both not knowing french, both thinking each other are frenchman, start spouting random common french phrases at each other. orlofsky is amused by this. i love him. falke introduces rosalinda - “the masked hungarian princess” - to the party, but no one is properly convinced that she’s hungarian, so she sings a folk song to prove herself. eisenstein, not realising she’s his wife, tries to flirt with her and convince her to take her mask off. men ain’t shit. while he’s flirting with her, she pickpockets him and steals his pocket watch. sneak 100. orlofsky comes in and toasts to champagne for making things interesting, because this company really does not know how to enjoy things if they’re not drunk. eisenstein and frank both run away from the party because they’re both supposed to be at the damn jail. idiots.

and finally, act three. it’s the next morning, and everyone is at the jail. alfred’s been pissing everyone off by singing opera in the jail. the prison guard, frosch, says that opera should be illegal, and he’s fucking right. (frosch is also very drunk because frank, his boss, has been gone.) adele begs frank to sponsor her career as an actress because she still thinks he’s the “chevalier chagrin”. frank is far too poor to do that. it’s sad. alfred asks for dr. blind to get him removed from jail, and frank brings in dr. blind. oh yeah, everyone’s gonna be in this finale, or the composer’s name isn’t johann strauss. enter eisenstein, saying he is ready to serve his sentence. but wait! someone’s already in his cell! it’s alfred! frank tells eisenstein that the man in his cell was singing Mating Songs in the street to rosalinda and kissed rosalinda before being taken to prison. eisenstein goes ape (he steals dr. blind’s wig and glasses and pretends to be him in order to yell at alfred) and accuses rosalinda of cheating - something she never did. i am absolutely team rosalinda. then rosalinda pulls eisenstein’s pocket watch out, throws on the fake hungarian accent, and basically calls him a hoe. falke comes in with the whole “it’s just a prank bro!” and everyone is delighted. you know, except for rosalinda, who threatens to divorce eisenstein’s hoe ass. but then eisenstein says “but babe. i was drunk on champagne.” AND SHE FORGIVES HIM IMMEDIATELY. let me tell you how mad this makes me. he actually, real life attempted to cheat on her, and then blamed her for cheating on him. she did not cheat on him - all jokes aside, rosalinda denied alfred in all ways possible from the beginning. the only infidelity on her part was when alfred kissed her, and even then, she told him to stop. (alfred’s really obnoxious and i really do not like him.) eisenstein fully intended upon cheating on her with the “hungarian princess”. he can actually choke. anyway, she forgives his hoe ass. orlofsky promises to sponsor adele’s acting career because he was so amused by the drama that falke put on (die fledermaus!!) that he finally felt joy. the company toasts to champagne again. end of opera.

anyway! this is my favourite opera in the world, specifically because it contains chacun à son goût, orlofsky’s aria. that was the aria that i heard a woman sing at music camp that made me desperately want to sing opera because it was the coolest thing i’d ever heard. basically, i can attribute my love and passion for opera to die fledermaus. especially because orlofsky is a trouser role! trouser roles are traditionally men’s roles that are written for and played by mezzo sopranos. before i went on testosterone, i was a mezzo soprano, and trouser roles like orlofsky, oscar (from un ballo in maschera) and cherubino (from my second favourite opera, le nozze di figaro) gave me a safe outlet to explore my gender and my presentation while i was deeply closeted. opera has always blurred the lines of gender and presentation, and i find it incredible for that reason particularly! despite being a super old art form, it’s become very accessible to transgender performers! it’s part of the reason i want to be able to teach trans vocalists. because everyone has a place in opera.

thank you for sending this ask. i listened to the recording i have while writing the response and it was very fun for me. :)

[consciousowl]

Shift From Belief System To Experiential Knowing

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If you experience it, it’s the truth. The same thing believed is a lie. In life, understanding is the booby prize.

~Werner Erhard

As human beings, we inhabit an ocean of symbols that represent our living experience. As language, they were derived from that experience, but began to assume a life of their own. Everything becomes reducible to words and numbers. If the experience can’t be represented by one of these forms of communication, it is too often discounted.

We all have belief systems, whether examined or not, stemming from childhood. This is how we put the world together, brick by brick. They may be political, religious or even scientific. They might best be considered as models of reality. As the great semanticist, Alfred Korzybski, put it, “The map is not the territory.” Models may be evaluated by how useful they are in making predictions, so that we can have a better sense of control, even power. If they prove useless, then they are best thrown out. Otherwise, we will soon find ourselves enslaved. Once we become aware that any of our belief systems is just that, a belief system, we can find our path to freedom.

Outer Belief Systems

What we can see, hear, touch, taste and smell are all in someway measurable, and susceptible to the scientific method. Here, we take something to be real if it is quantifiable, if you can put it into numerical form. It must be verifiable by other people, and subject to the critical analysis of peer review, published in scientific journals. Outer belief systems can be valid or invalid.

The Ptolemaic theory of the solar system put the earth at the center, with the sun circling around it. That is the way it appears to us with the naked eye. However, this approach had many inconsistencies, which were rationalized by the convoluted orbits of the planets. The theory became increasingly cumbersome, awaiting a simpler explanation. Nicholas Copernicus, Johannes Kepler and Galileo Galilei overturned this intuitive impression of the solar system through the invention of the telescope. Through careful study and measurement, they developed a much simpler and more elegant theory of the planets and gravity, which we now take for granted. Of course the earth moves around the sun!

Inner Belief Systems

Most of us grew up with the ultimate questions: Who am I? Who made me? Where am I going? Many of these are answered for us by subscribing to a given religious or philosophical belief system. Although you can’t see Him with your eyes, there is a personal God who spoke the universe into being. This is not directly subject to scientific explanation, but it might be necessary as an inference. For many people, without the belief in a personal God, the universe would make no sense. Inner belief systems are not measurable, or subject to the scientific method as we most often think of it. This does not mean that we can’t have an inner science, just as we have an outer science. The Dalai Lama urged prominent scientists to consider developing this. We can build an inner belief system based upon our own intuition and inner processes. What is called Cosmic Consciousness can occur to anyone at any time, whether or not they are religious. It provides a direct experience that you are one with everything you see. Two people might gaze at the Grand Canyon. One experiences unity with it; the other simply delights in the glorious pastel rock formations.

Outer Experiential Knowing

When scientists approach their subject matter with a sense of awe, as did Albert Einstein and even Carl Sagan, they have an experiential approach. They let the universe speak for itself, and then listen carefully to what it has to say. Many of the early quantum physicists were mystics, including Niels Bohr, Werner Heisenberg and Erwin Schrodinger. They deeply resonated with the insights of Hinduism and Buddhism. Charles Darwin was a meticulous observer who went around the tropical islands creating intricate drawings of plants and animals. He started out building collections of natural plant and animal specimens. In the process, Darwin grew a gradual conviction that the differences in life forms were a result of an evolutionary process, a gradual complexification of life. True scientists test and retest their hypotheses. They take nothing for granted, and are totally willing to look at any evidence that disproves their ideas. If an idea doesn’t survive this careful scrutiny, they throw it out. Many of the greatest scientists have an extraordinary modesty. Sir Isaac Newton commented that he was throwing pebbles at the sea when he looked at his work in comparison with the majesty of creation.

Inner Experiential Knowing

Carl Jung claimed that we have four distinct and complementary psychic functions, four ways of knowing: Thinking, Sensing, Feeling and Intuiting. Because of cultural developments in Western Europe and America, the Modern Age put a premium on Thinking and Sensing over against Feeling and Intuiting. You might see it as masculine over feminine, or left-brain over right brain.

Yet Feeling and Intuiting are valid ways of knowing, and often far more efficient than Thinking and Sensing. When you meet someone, you often pick up things about him or her that you can’t easily put in words. Is someone truthful or dishonest, reliable or a flake? Often we can pick these things up in seconds, without knowing why. This is a major reason most jobs require a personal interview. When you fall in love with a woman or man, how do you know it? How do you know he or she loves you? Is love something you can put under a microscope? Do you experience love when you are around him / her? Does someone else need to verify that for you? Of course not!

Darwinism as a Belief System

If you have ever watched any debates around the Theory of Evolution, you soon realize just how futile they can be. Neither side listens to the other. The evolutionists know they are right, and the creationists are wrong. Of course, the creationists know they are right and the evolutionists are wrong. Since the evidence for evolution is so overwhelming, why don’t we just throw the Bible out? The universe just happened. Darwin showed us how. Evolution is a most brilliant theory with mountains of evidence. Yet, is it really a fact? Does it even need to be a fact? If it helps us understand how life on earth came into being, it is most certainly useful. However, what good does it do to elevate it into a sacrosanct belief? This goes 100% against the best of the scientific tradition. Jules Verne had one of his characters in Journey to the Center of the Earth, maintain, “Our job is not to prove, but to disprove.” Contemporary evolutionary theory has now been dramatically refined. With Darwin, all features of plants and animals were merely an adaptive survival mechanism. It was all survival of the fittest, the law of the jungle. This, of course, was used by Western Europeans to justify colonial exploitation. Recent research has focused on the ecological nature of life; how systems work together to collectively survive. This is a completely different emphasis than that of Darwin.

Creationism as a Belief System

I started out as child with distaste for evolutionary theory. It seemed to be based on accidental mutations that worked to further life, when I heard that actual mutations under scientific investigation are usually destructive. I further came under the influence of Christian Fundamentalists with their doctrine of the inerrancy of scripture. God directly inspired every word in the Bible. It took me a long time to appreciate the poetry of the Bible, that metaphor can convey truths otherwise impossible to grasp. The Six Days of Creation in Genesis 1 can be taken metaphorically, rather than literally. The order of creation in the Bible exactly matches that of evolutionary theory. So what is the problem? Even more to the point, quantum physics makes possible the idea that God actually spoke the universe into being, as speech is vibration, and vibration seems to be the very basis for the dance of life. Furthermore, the Big Bang Theory portrays everything in the known universe emerged from an infinitesimally small point, from nothing. Creationists simply need a Bigger God.

Knowing Is Being

To truly know anything, we must become it. Just like peeling an orange, we thankfully devour every slice of it, assimilating it into our system. As we become the orange, the orange becomes us. On a much deeper sense, to know God is to experience God directly. Jesus Christ, before His passion, used the metaphor of bread and wine to represent His body and blood. Yet the deeper meaning of communion follows. To know Christ, we must become Christ. To know God, we must become God.

To truly know anything, we must become it.

To truly know anything, we must become it.

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Truth is not limited to any one religious, philosophical or scientific tradition. If you press any system to its limits, it will lead you to the place where you become what you investigate. We eventually come to the True, the Good and the Beautiful, to Unity, Love and Perfection. We then come to realize THAT which experiences the Universe created the Universe. We ultimately see that we are THAT, both Creator and Created.

What do you think?

Shift From Belief System To Experiential Knowing appeared first on http://consciousowl.com.