#Hands on Alexander Technique Lessons

[betteratbeing]

A life practice for promoting ease | Alexander Technique New York

Alexander Technique (AT) is a holistic self-care method, acquired through learning and practicing new, specialized skills of self-awareness, organization and intention. It is known for improving people's posture and physical grace.

AT is most useful in improving the quality and comfort of everything we do while we are upright, as we are during most waking activities. The benefits of AT include better general functioning, balance and mobility, helping many people to perform everyday tasks with less effort and discomfort, and achieve better performance at work, in sports or in the arts.

AT teaches us to reduce excessive and unnecessary tension. Since tension often triggers or exacerbates pain, AT can be very helpful for managing or even eliminating chronic pain conditions.

Read more information about it : Click Here 

Contact Us : Alexander Technique Instructor in New York City

[donaydonay]

Sometimes I don't get all the way through my lectures, so I wrote up some notes for my students to help them study for the exam. So anyone interested gets a free history lesson today. All two of you.

<<Alexander the Great (356 – 323 BCE) was the son of Philip II, King of Macedon (382 – 336 BCE). The Macedonians were northern Hellenic Greeks whose civilization was perceived by the southern Greeks (Athenians, Peloponnesians) as borderline barbaric, although the Macedonians were as invested in Greek culture as any others. The Macedonians were able to rise to power over the southern Greeks partly as a result of the great weakening, militarily, politically, and economically, of the southern Greeks due to the Peloponnesian War.

Philip, a powerful and charismatic warlord, conquered or subdued most of the western Aegean world during his reign. His victory at the Battle of Chaeronea (338 BCE) assured the submission of Athens, a southern Greek city-state Philip greatly admired. By this point, Philip’s son Alexander was participating in military campaigns, having been taught philosophy by Aristotle of Athens and having learned rigorous Spartan military techniques from his mother’s southern Greek relatives. Alexander’s natural charisma and leadership ability, combined with unusual skill and luck on the battlefield, led to him being considered by Philip and most others as the heir-apparent, despite his relatively small stature and the existence of legitimate alternatives. When Philip was assassinated in 336 BCE, Alexander moved quickly to seize power, eliminating or disempowering all rivals. For his first two years as king of Macedon, Alexander consolidated the Greek empire Philip had built and established his firm control over the army. Then, in 334, he set out to the east to initiate his father’s ambition of conquering the Achaemenid (Persian) Empire.

Alexander’s campaigns in the east lasted the remainder of his life, more than ten years. In this time, the young king conquered and ruled over an empire of unprecedented size and diversity, from the Greek city states of the west to the Ganges River civilizations of the east, and south to Egypt. Alexander’s success in battle was a result of a ruthless, clever strategy of offering every major city-state the chance of a peaceful surrender, to which he would hold his troops accountable, or, if the citizens chose to defy him, to crush their resistance without mercy. As the Plutarch source you are reading emphasizes, Alexander could be kind and gentle on the one hand and absolutely brutal on the other, without seeming to lose the loyalty of his army. Alexander led campaigns personally and was frequently in physical danger, but very rarely wounded. He was perceived as lucky and brave, and his men were fanatically loyal.

Alexander’s rule over this vast empire was achieved through the establishment of a centralized bureaucracy that relied heavily on his loyal retainers left behind in major population centers. Alexander required his men to marry into the local populations, so that city leaders would have a family tie to his rule and be more likely to oppose rebellion. Alexander himself married three times, as Macedonian custom did not forbid multiple marriage. In his personal life, Alexander was almost certainly bisexual, having been known to have male lovers who accompanied him on his campaigns for most of his adult life. However, his marriages to women were fruitful and he was reputed to admire beauty in any form.

The tremendous loyalty and love Alexander inspired can be observed in Plutarch’s story about his acquisition of his famous war horse, Boukephalos/Bucephalus (ox-head). Alexander tamed a horse no one else wanted and kept that horse with him for most of the rest of his life. When Bucephalus died, shortly before Alexander, the king threw him a funeral to rival that of royalty.

As Alexander made his triumphant way south toward Egypt, he found he didn’t always have to fight, as his reputation preceded him. Culturally, he was very open-minded and tended to enthusiastically adopt his favorite customs of the new peoples and civilizations he encountered. He won virtually every battle he fought and often endeared himself to locals who despised the Persians. This was particularly true in Egypt, where he stayed for some time and was even declared pharaoh, a living god, by the priests. In Egypt, he founded a capital city in the swamplands of the delta region of Lower Egypt and, as was typical, named the city after himself. It is still called Alexandria, and it became one of the great cities of the ancient world. Alexander is buried somewhere in it.

Alexander turned his attention to Darius III, King of Persia. Having defeated Darius’ numerically superior forces several times, forcing the king to flee, Alexander took over Mesopotamia and the entire eastern half of the Persian Empire before Darius was finally captured and killed by his own men. Alexander’s key to success in his Persian campaigns appeared to be the speed and unpredictability of his military movements. While Darius had a massive court that took days to move a few miles, Alexander required few luxuries and moved much more quickly. After Darius’ death, Alexander had himself declared Darius’ heir and king of the Persians. In this capacity, he subdued the rest of the Persian Empire all the way to the Ganges River.

There, despite Alexander’s desire to cross the vast river and conquer the mysterious civilizations of the Far East, the young king faced mutiny for the first and last time. His troops, previously so loyal, refused to participate. They feared the unknown, were tired of fighting, and longed to go home. Heartsick, Alexander agreed, but continued to campaign and led the way back west through brutal desert, losing much of his army along the way.

Alexander died shortly after returning to Mesopotamia in the city of Babylon, in the fabled palace of Nebuchadnezzar II. He was known to be sick for two weeks before his death, but rumors of poisoning persisted, despite it being very unlikely that such a long-acting poison would be effective or known. After his death at the age of 32, his leading generals quickly eliminated their rivals, including Alexander’s surviving wives and offspring, and divided up his empire among themselves into several large kingdoms.

The post-Alexander period is often called the Hellenistic Era. While “Hellenic” means “Greek,” “Hellenistic” means “influenced by Hellenic Greek culture.” Therefore, the Hellenistic world is the one created by the blending of the Greek cultures of the Aegean with the various other cultures (Persian, Mesopotamian, Egyptian, Semitic, etc.) of the regions Alexander conquered. The cultural center of the Hellenistic world was in Alexandria, Egypt. Egypt was ruled by descendants of Alexander’s general Ptolemy, founding a Macedonian dynasty that would reign over Egypt for the next 300 years. Although Alexander had died in Babylon, his body was eventually moved to Alexandria, Egypt, where it was reported to have been seen as late as the Roman era. It is now lost to history, as Alexandria is a sea-level city and the ancient palace complex is very difficult to excavate, given the water table.

The city of Alexandria became home to the great library, essentially an ancient university system that housed not only the most important books of the ancient world (up to 500,000 hand-written scrolls and codices), but also became a research and development facility for scientists, philosophers, and technicians of the age. Geographers accurately estimated the circumference of the world. Astronomers traced the paths of planets and mapped the stars. Physicists discovered principles and formulas that would continue to be used into the Newtonian era.

Throughout the Hellenistic world, a simplified form of Greek called koine was spoken and written as a business language, regardless of local speech. Metal currency was used as a medium of trade, which flourished throughout this enormous area, creating a highly cosmopolitan blended civilization that characterizes the Hellenistic Era.

However, any romantic attachment to the ideals of Athenian democracy was essentially pointless sentimentality. Alexander, for all of his good qualities, was a tyrant and a despot. His successors were also uncompromising monarchs, more like the Persian king Alexander had replaced than the Athenian politicians Aristotle had taught him to admire. Philosophical traditions of the Hellenistic era reflect this change in ideals about government. Philosophers seemed more interested in discovering how to cope with a world beyond their control than in perfecting a world they understood. Hellenistic philosophy in general reflects a withdrawal from political activity and a resignation to the fact that humans had little say in their own destiny.

Epicureanism was one Athenian philosophy that took this approach. Based on the teachings of Epicurus (341 – 270 BCE), Epicureanism took after Aristotelianism somewhat in that moderation was considered the key to a successful life. Epicureans believed that misery was due to excess. Therefore, pleasure should be pursued, but in a cautious and temperate way. Avoiding pain was paramount, and overindulgence in pleasure usually produced pain. Life, therefore, was an exercise in avoiding those things that cause fear or anxiety. Since fear of death can destroy a person’s happiness, Epicurus taught that it made no more sense to fear death than it did to fear the world that existed before you were born.

Stoicism was another major philosophical movement of the Hellenistic world. This school of Athenian philosophy was founded by Zeno (334 – 262 BCE), who believed in the existence of the logos (universal reason or truth) as the force that unifies all things. Since all misery stemmed from being out of balance with the logos, Stoics avoided excessive attachment and the violent emotions that came with it, practicing fortitude and self-discipline when confronted with problems. Thus they developed a reputation for being unemotional, when in truth they were simply learning to control their emotional responses to avoid losing their connection with the logos.

Skepticism was another approach to dealing with an uncertain world. We know less about this philosophy’s Hellenistic version because most of the writings of its practitioners have been lost, but the basic idea of skepticism is that nothing is certain and knowledge is not really possible. Thus, in order to achieve tranquility, one must exist in a constant state of doubt. Nothing should be taken for granted and all things should be questioned. Socrates was an early skeptic in many ways, but the Hellenistic practice of skepticism was different in that Socrates believed truth and morality existed; skeptics of the Hellenistic period were not certain of anything.

Cynicism is the most extreme of the Hellenistic philosophies. A cynic's goal was to live a virtuous life in harmony with nature, which was only possible through rejection of distracting comforts. Cynics believed all unhappiness came from attachment, because anything you are attached to can be lost. Therefore, to preempt misery, one should simply avoid all attachment and attempt to live a self-sufficient life in harmony with nature. Social customs and proprieties were limiting and meaningless. Cynics were often loners, since human company can lead to attachment, and their bizarre behavior was difficult to live with. They tended to dress, eat, and live at the extreme edge of poverty, since comforts could also lead to attachment. Practically the only pleasure Cynics allowed themselves, since it was harder to take away, was the exercise of their own minds through study and contemplation. The most famous cynic of the Alexandrian period was Diogenes, who lived in a ceramic jar and begged on the streets of Athens.

All of these Hellenistic philosophies lack the optimistic certainty that society and the individual can be perfected that characterized classical philosophy. Hellenistic thinkers were more concerned with how to survive a world they don’t control than with how to create a better world. Democracy was a distant memory; living under the rule of tyrants was the expectation of the Hellenistic world.>>

[randomrichards]

MCLAREN REVIEW 1: HAND-PAINTED ABSTRACTIONS

Before he became the abstract animator we know and love, Norman McLaren was an artist studying set design at the Glasgow School of Art. Then his life changed when he laid eyes on Oskar Fischinger’s animated short film Study No. 7[i]. It was the images of abstract shapes moving in tune to the Braham’s’ Hungarian Dance No. 5 that he had found “the medium to express my feelings about music.”[ii] This led him to join a group of experimental artists in the Kinecraft Society[iii]. “We realized here was a new area not really being explored just been invented about 20 or 30 years ago”[iv] McLaren later said.

So, McLaren collaborated with Stewart McAllister to make their debut abstract short film Hand-Painted Abstraction. Sadly, the original print was worn beyond repair and McLaren didn’t make an extra print.[1] But from what I could gather from research, this film showed early signs of his trademark techniques.

It’s his first film and already he’s applying his trademark technique of drawing/painting on the film strip. The funny thing is this was first used out of necessity. Despite being a filmmaking club, the Kinecraft Society lacked one thing necessary make movies: a camera. All they had was a 35 mm projector and used commercial films. (pg. 33)[v] But as the old saying goes, “Necessity is the mother of invention.” “I begged an old print of a commercial film,” he recalls “soaked it in the family bathtub for about two weeks – so no one could have a bath for two weeks – to get off the emulsion, to make it clear.”[vi]

Then he and McAllister painted on the film using “a very limited range of semi-transparent dyes, shoe-polish and India ink.” Well, they tried drawing in every single frame. But they got first-hand experience to the tediousness that comes with modifying images frame by frame to create movement (Pg. 33.)[vii] As YouTuber Alessandro Sabbadini points out “The film frame was tiny. A mere 16 or 35 mm across. And drawing onto such a tiny area meant that the image could only be very simple.”[viii] The result is what the technical notes describes as “The very rapid fluctuations of patterns and the very fast music created an acceptable random synchronization.” (Pg. 20)[ix] I imagine McLaren would eventually develop the self-discipline needed to make animated films.

The lack of existing film makes it impossible to review this short. But McLaren’s recollections indicated it wasn’t his best work. “It was like an endless band of effects.” He stated. “It had no climax or conclusion.” While his Technical notes states the film was “designed to be accompanied by discs of any fast jazz or popular music,” it also points out that it had a “total disregard for the frame line or for synchronization with the music.” Though McLaren later said that he and McAllister found that “when we used very fast popular music of the day, the tempo of the music was so fast and what was in front of the eye was so fast, that there was more than a 50% feeling of synchronization.”[x]

Of course, there’s no shame in someone’s first student film not being a masterpiece. This was an early period for movies, and it was less than 10 years ago that we got full length talking pictures. Besides, this would be a moment in a filmmaker’s life when they’re figuring out their style. I imagine that McLaren would be imitating Fischinger’s style along with that of fellow influences like Emile Cohl and Alexander Alexeieff. Again, no shame in this. Student filmmakers aren’t going to have it all figured out on their first try and trying out the styles of other filmmakers can give them clarity on why the other filmmaker’s style works.

Hand-Painted Abstractions is a tragic reminder of the many early films lost forever to history due to negligence. It is a shame because this film would offer a glimpse of how McLaren grew as a filmmaker.

[1] Let that be a lesson, kids; always make a copy of your work.

[i] Study no. 7. (1931). [DVD]. Germany.

[ii] A National Film Board of Canada production in association with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and Channel Four Television. (1990). Creative process: Norman McLaren. Ottawa?

[iii] Dobson, N. (2019). Norman McLaren: Between the frames. Bloomsbury Academic.

[iv] A National Film Board of Canada production in association with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and Channel Four Television. (1990). Creative process: Norman McLaren. Ottawa?

[v] DODSON, T. (2017). Film work of Norman McLaren. JOHN LIBBEY & CO LTD.

[vi] British Broadcasting Corporation. (1972). the eye hears and the ear sees [DVD].

[vii] DODSON, T. (2017). Film work of Norman McLaren. JOHN LIBBEY & CO LTD.

[viii] YouTube. (2021). What About Norman McLaren? YouTube. Retrieved July 1, 2023, from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhR2OCLqZfM.

[ix] McLaren, N. (2006). Technical notes. National Film Board of Canada. http://www3.nfb.ca/archives_mclaren/notech/NT04EN.pdf

[x] A National Film Board of Canada production in association with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and Channel Four Television. (1990). Creative process: Norman McLaren. Ottawa?

[neilschapera]

Manifesting My Dream – Victoria Hyatt Interview

Listen to the Interview Here: Manifesting My Dream – Victoria Hyatt

Vivien: Hello and welcome to the Schapera Show, where Viv and Neil explore this big adventure called Life. Our guest today is another colleague and friend of mine, Victoria Hyatt, who has conquered her fears to manifest her dream career. Victoria is a dancer, a Physical Therapist and an Alexander Teacher and she has put them all together in a unique way. Hello Victoria, thank you for coming on the show.

Victoria: Thank you for having me!

Vivien: Victoria, I think we should begin with some background info. What’s your backstory?

Victoria: I grew up in the Washington DC area, studying dance quite seriously. Initially I studied Ballet with the Washington Ballet and later my focus shifted toward Modern Dance. I earned my BFA in Dance from the University of Massachusetts in Amherst. After completing college, I moved to New York to continue to study and pursue a dance career. In NY, I primarily studied with the Erick Hawkins Dance company and also performed with several independent choreographers. While studying at Hawkins I met Cynthia Reynolds, who was a member of the company and a teacher in the school. She was also an Alexander Teacher and she encouraged me to try lessons in the Technique. I was so impressed by the work that I knew immediately that I had to train to become a Teacher. I completed my training at the American Center for the Alexander Technique in New York in 1992. I earned my Doctorate in Physical Therapy at Duke University in 2001 and now practice both as a PT and as an Alexander Teacher. My specialty area of practice in Physical Therapy is working with dancers, both to prevent and to treat injuries. Working with dancers is a full circle experience for me, as I am able to put my passions for dance, movement study/analysis, and healing together. To further my ability to work with dancers, I am currently in training with Body Arts and Sciences International to become a Pilates Instructor.

Vivien: Were you born to do this? Were you attracted to dance from an early age?

Victoria: Yes! Exactly that. My interest in dance came in early childhood. My mother took me to see a performance of Coppelia at the Kennedy Center. I was enchanted, and hooked! I began classes immediately and was a serious student throughout my childhood. In my senior year of the dance program at UMass, I took a Kinesiology course and I just loved it! I remember feeling that it was the first time in my life that I had felt so engaged by an academic topic. I wanted to find a way to use this information professionally and at that point became interested in PT. However, the requirements to enter PT school required nearly all of the coursework to go Pre-Med and I had done very little of it during college. I felt intimidated, especially by the requirements to study Chemistry and Physics, so I put it on the back burner. I continued to study and pursue dance.

Vivien: Then, what was it about the Alexander Technique that caught your attention?

Victoria: My first experience with the Alexander Technique was life changing. After spending my entire life studying movement and trying so hard to do everything right, I had developed a good bit of tension in my body. The first time I had a hands-on experience with the AT, I was utterly blown away that such a light touch could induce such profound change in me, and that I could experience myself so differently. As I said, I knew immediately that I needed to train. I also was seeking a way out of the starving artist lifestyle of waiting tables and doing temp work to get by in New York.

Vivien: But there’s always more, right?

Get More Info : Alternative and Complementary Medicine Blogs

[vitapictor]

“Who is she, a radiant woman? A captivating handful of aromas-

In the silence of a weightless evening, Waking up the young flesh.

Who is she, teaching her lesson? A thin strand of dark curls

, which became a bright sun in memory,

Teaching to take off into the sky. Who is she, the tenderness of feelings splashed?

Who came only in dreams- At dawn, always disappearing,

Leaving her taste on her lips. Who is she, this wonderful woman?

A trace of lipstick and passion arrow- Let it not become insanely beloved,

But SHE created a man!”          © Copyright: Peter 

Alexander Shubin is a Russian-Canadian artist who presently resides and paints in his art-studio in Ottawa, Canada. Alexander expresses his creative mind using a unique style and techniques which he has developed living and painting in Europe, but he is always in search for a new and original manner to express himself in art.

In his works Alex often uses contemporary and surreal ideas and combines them with his extraordinary style. Alexander's love of figurative, abstract and surreal art is reflected in his work. His paintings convey artist's intricate vision and unusual imagination which outlines Alexander's individual style. His ability of breathing life into people pictured on his portraits, captivates the viewer.

Sources: https://artliveandbeauty.blogspot.com/2020/06/artist-alexander-shubin-russian.html

https://www.liveinternet.ru/users/3162595/post405141187/

[romancandlemagazine]

An Interview with Al Baker

I first came across Al Baker’s photography whilst looking through an old copy of a magazine called Flux I’d snaffled from Manchester’s world-famous second-hand wonderland, Empire Exchange.

Hidden in the magazine’s pages, between an interview with Mark E Smith and a review of a newly-released sci-fi film called The Matrix, were two black-and-white photos, snapped from the window of an ice-cream van, showing kids lined up for a bit of frozen respite from the summer heat. Reading the fairly minimal bit of text below, it turned out the photos were part of a series called ‘Ice Cream You Scream’. 

I’d missed the exhibition by approximately 20 years, but thanks to the high-speed time-machine known as the internet, I managed to track him down. Here’s an interview about his fine photos, his time living in Hulme Crescents and the benefits of carrying cameras in a Kwik Save bag...

Classic ‘start of an interview’ question here, but when did you get into photography? Was there something in particular that set you off?

Like a lot of young people, I knew that I was creative but hadn’t quite found my place. I didn’t know whether I wanted to be a writer or in a band. I used to doodle, copy Picasso’s in biro, so off I went to art college and tried my hand at different things. All it really taught me was that I had neither the patience, technique or talent to become a painter. Photography seemed a much easier way to make images, a more instant result. Of course, the more you get into it you realise that whether you’re any good or not does rely upon patience, technique and talent after all.

Was ‘being a photographer’ something that people did in Manchester in the early 90s? Who did you look up to back then?

Not really. It was very rare to see another person wandering around with a camera back then. Even years later when I began photographing the club scene in Manchester no-one else seemed to be doing the same thing. Not at the night clubs I went to anyway. 

Now it’s very different. These days you see people with cameras everywhere. Club nights almost always have a photographer. People are far more image-conscious due to social media. Today most people are busy documenting their own nights out with their phones. Look at footage from any major gig these days and half the room is filming it. Back in the 90s no-one seemed to care about documenting anything like that. You were very unlikely to see the photos that someone might be taking the next day or, in fact, ever. People often used to ask ‘What are you taking photos for?’ with genuine surprise or distain.  

In terms of photographers whom I looked up to there are so many! There are great image masters like Cartier-Bresson or Elliott Erwitt. Photographers of war and social upheaval like Don McCullin and Phillip Jones-Griffiths. I liked Alexander Rodchenko and Andre Kertez, how they broke the conventions of their day with wit and invention. 

I loved the dark and dirty images of Bill Brandt, and his inspiring nude studies too. I loved the city at night recorded by Brassai. Paris in the 1930s definitely seemed to be the place to be. Diane Arbus, Jane Bown and Shirley Baker. American street photographer Gary Winogrand was a huge influence on me, as was Nick Waplington’s book ‘Living Room’.  

I was also quite lucky to be living in Manchester at that time. Daniel Meadows and Martin Parr had both attended Manchester Polytechnic. Denis Thorpe had worked for the Guardian in Manchester. I saw Kevin Cummins iconic Joy Division images, Ian Tilton documenting The Stone Roses. Both were regularly in among the inky pages of the NME. 

I also saw an exhibition of Clement Cooper’s photographs of the Robin Hood pub in Moss Side, which was another big influence. I was also very lucky in that my very first photography tutor was Mark Warner, who produced very beautiful images, did a lot of work for Factory Records. He shot The Durutti Column’s (1989) Vini Reilly album sleeve. He was probably the first person who ever really encouraged me.

I really like that series of photos you took from inside an ice-cream van in the late 90s. What was the story behind that? 

The initial idea for that project came from my friend Steve Hillman, who is an actor. At the time he was ‘between jobs’, which is an actor’s euphemism for being unemployed, so he was working an ice-cream round to help to pay the rent. I was at his flat one night, thinking aloud about where I might go next with my camera. I’d spent quite a long time following graffiti artists work around Hulme, and had my first exhibition based around that. But it only seemed to lead to offers of more work with graffiti artists, and I wanted to do something else.  

I’d done a 2nd exhibition based around portraits of my friends in Hulme. I’d flirted with some one-day projects, like Belle Vue dog track, Speakers Corner in Hyde Park. Anyway, while I was talking, not really knowing what I was going to do next, Steve simply stated ‘You should come out on the ice-cream round with me. No-one ever comes to the van without a smile on their face.’ And it just struck me as a beautiful & simple idea. So, one day we just set off. 4 or 5 rolls of film and all the free ice-cream I could eat, which I discovered wasn’t very much!

What was the logistical side of those photos? Were they taken from the same van? 

They were all shot on the same day, the same van, all around Salford. It was good fun, but actually very hard work. Trying to constantly find new angles, different framing and working on a hot August day in such a small confined space. By the end of the day I felt that I had enough strong images for my next exhibition. They were much jollier images than ones I’d made before. As a result, because it had more universal appeal, I got quite a lot of good publicity out of it, and Walls gave us hundreds of free Magnum ice-creams to give away on the opening night!

These days I could think of more than a few reasons why you probably shouldn’t drive around Salford photographing other people’s children without permission haha (in fact, I’m surprised that I wasn’t hung from the nearest lamppost!) but I was much younger and far more naive back then. Besides, that was something that I’d learned from living in Hulme. You don’t ask for permission. Someone will only say ‘No’. Just crack on and do it anyway.

You also documented the last years of the Hulme Crescents. A lot of people talk about that time and place in Manchester, even now—but what was the reality of it? What was a normal weekend there like?

It was quite unlike anywhere that I’d ever lived before. It looked like a fascist dystopian nightmare, only one peopled by Rastas and anarchists. Bleak concrete interconnecting walkways. No through roads whatsoever. A fortress feel to the place. The entire estate was earmarked for demolition before I arrived. Everyone else seemed to be busy moving out. But I was already spending a lot of time there, post-Hacienda, parties, friends, lost weekends.  

There were lots of young people living there. Families had mainly moved out as the heating didn’t work properly, flats were cold & damp, often infested with cockroaches. There were traces of old Irish families, the Windrush generation, interwoven with punks and drop-outs. 

There was a cultural & artistic flowering among the ruins. A Certain Ratio, Dub Sex, A Guy Called Gerald, Edward Barton, Ian Brown, Dave Haslam, Mick Hucknall, Lemn Sissay, all lived there at one time. It was the original home of Factory, where all the post-punk bands played. In turn that led to Factory Records, New Order, and the Hacienda. The PSV club later hosted raves and notorious Jungle nights. It was a good time to be young.

You lived there as well as shooting it. Do you think it’s important to be a part of the thing you’re photographing, rather than just an outsider with a camera?

I don’t know that it’s important to be a part of the thing you’re photographing, ‘embedded’ is what the war photographers call it, but you definitely capture different images. Certain things that might have been shocking to an outsider were commonplace, normal & every day to me. Boring even. On the other hand, I was much less likely to be robbed walking around. That meant I could take my camera places that other people couldn’t, or maybe shouldn’t!

I used to wear my camera beneath my coat so it couldn’t be seen, and I carried my film and lenses in a Kwik Save shopping bag so as not to attract unwanted attention. I got into the habit of handing that bag over the bar at the pubs I went in. I would collect it the next day if I could remember where I’d been the night before. Bless you, saintly barmaids of old Hulme.

If you look at my images of Hulme people they’re usually reacting to me and not the camera. Either that or they’re not reacting at all. They’re ignoring the fact that I’m taking a picture. That’s what gives them that ‘fly-on-the-wall’ feeling.

This is something that I put to greater effect later when I was photographing in night clubs, skulking stage side or hiding in a DJ booth. When DJs & MCs see you week in week out at the club doing the same thing they stop posing for the camera and just get used to you being there. You become part of the furniture. And when people stop being conscious of the camera, when they ignore that you’re even present, you can step in much closer. Put simply, you get better pictures. They’re much less performative and far more honest. It’s not often people can say they like it when they’re being ignored, but for photographers it’s a gift.

Do you think somewhere the Crescents could exist now, or was it just a case of the perfect accidental recipe for that kind of creative, DIY activity?

No, I don’t think anywhere like Hulme will ever happen again. I think the city council learned that lesson a long time ago. It was a dystopian utopia for us, but it grew out of failure. When I 1st went to university they warned us never to set foot there. I said, ‘But what if you live there already?’ and there was an embarrassed silence. They really hadn’t expected a poor boy from Hulme to be in the room. Now they own half of it and it’s all student Halls of Residence.  

The city centre has been regenerated, redeveloped & gentrified. We can’t afford to live there anymore, and people like me are pushed out. Hulme was a failed social housing experiment, an eyesore & an embarrassment to the people who had commissioned it. People like me moved in & we made it our own. They’re never going to allow anything like that to happen again. Every quaint old fashioned pub that closes becomes a block of flats. The footprint is too valuable to property developers. One day all we will have will be faded photographs to bear witness to a very different way of living.

Was it through the Crescents that you started shooting graffiti? 

When I first arrived in Hulme I’d just spent 3 years living with mates in a couple of houses elsewhere in the city. It suddenly struck me that that part of my life was over and I had very few photographs of that time. I’d been too busy learning photography, taking the kind of photos that every art student takes: Broken windows; abandoned buildings, and bits of burnt wood. I vowed I wouldn’t do that again. I began documenting the life that was around me.

I started with the architecture, as it was quite unlike any other place I’d ever seen. It had a desperate, faded beauty even then. The whole estate had been condemned for demolition before I arrived, but the city council had given up on the place long before that.  

I started to notice graffiti pieces going up, seeing the same names repeated. It was obvious that there was a small group of writers trying out their styles on a large canvas for the 1st time. Wanting to claim this derelict space as their own Hall Of Fame. I started to document them as they sprang up. Then I noted that context was crucial, and so I began to include the soon-to-be-derelict buildings in the images also. The shapes & colours of the graffiti looked positively psychedelic beside the drab monochrome of the setting.

With your graffiti shots, you show a lot more than just the pieces. Was it an intentional thing to show the act behind it a bit?

Because it was Hulme and no-one cared, these guys weren’t working in the dead of night like most graffiti writers do in the train yards and what-have-you. They were working during the day, right out in the open. So, documenting their work, it wasn’t long before I ran into Kelzo. He really didn’t trust me at first, but I kept coming back. So, I got to know them. They started to let me know where they were going to be painting next.

In 1995 Kelzo organised the 1st SMEAR JAM event (named after a young aspiring writer who used to come down to Hulme to learn, and had died suddenly from a nut allergy). That was such good fun that another event arrived the following year, another & another. Graf writers came from London, Edinburgh, Leeds, Sheffield, and as far afield as Spain. The local community came out to support and, as usual, it turned into a party that lasted all weekend.  

I got into the habit of taking 2 cameras. One loaded with B&W film to capture the event itself, and another with colour transparency to document the finished artwork.

Graffiti… hip-hop… kids getting ice cream… I suppose there’s a few different subjects there, but was there an underlying thing or theme you wanted to show with your photos? Maybe getting a bit philosophical, but they’re all quite free acts—is it about enjoying what’s there?

It was more about documenting the life I saw around me. Moving to Hulme was what led to me capturing graffiti, and graffiti led to hip-hop events. Once Hulme was demolished I moved my camera into the city centre and began photographing club nights. House and hip-hop turned into Drum’n’Bass, and then dubstep. Residents and warm-up acts have now become headliners in their own right. Manchester has always been a great city for music, and it kept me busy throughout the naughty Noughties. I’ve pretty much retired from all of that now. I’d had enough after over 15 years of it. I no longer feel compelled to document something as ephemeral as a club night anymore when half of the audience are doing it themselves anyway. Then coronavirus came & properly killed it all off. I don’t know what it’s going to be like now going forward, but it’ll be someone else’s turn to document whatever that is.  

What do you think makes a good photograph? 

You need to have a good eye. You need to notice & be aware of the world around you. You always see an image before you create one. You don’t require expensive equipment. Mine never was. And you don’t need to be trained. It’s one of those areas where you really can educate yourself. A certain amount of technique and technical understanding goes a long way but, again, you can pick those things up as you go along.  

There are different kinds of photography, of course, but for me it was always about capturing a moment. The Decisive Moment, as Cartier-Bresson so eloquently put it. It’s something that the camera has over the canvas. For me the camera has always been a time machine. Like an evocative love song on the radio, it can transport you back immediately to a time & place long gone. It also acts as a witness for those people who were not there. Images tell stories. And we all like to hear and tell stories.

A couple of years ago I was invited to talk at the University of Lancaster for a symposium on documentary photography, which is a tradition that I had always considered my photographs sat within. But oddly, as I gave my slide-show presentation, images that I have seen and shown many times before, and thought I knew very well, I suddenly saw in a brand-new light. I could see myself in every image. Almost like a self-portrait from which I was absent but my own shadow cast large. I realised that I haven’t been documenting anything other than my own life. 25 year old images suddenly had something new to say, something new to tell me.  

Do you still take photos today? What kind of things are you into shooting these days?  

I don’t really do a lot of photography these days. I teach and facilitate as part of my job now. I still do the odd event but night club photography is a much younger man’s game. I really don’t have the levels of commitment, energy or enthusiasm I once did. I feel like I’ve taken enough images. If I never took another photograph ever again, that’s OK. Maybe, perhaps, I’ll get into a different kind of image making in my twilight years … but for now I’m trying to reassess the images I made 25 years ago. People are far more interested in them now than they ever were at the time. Now they have become documents of a time and place which has gone. The graffiti and the walls that they were written on have disappeared. Many of those night clubs have closed. Time moves on. The images and the memories are all that is left.  

Over all those years, how has the art of photography changed for you?

Back when I started taking photographs, where I lived in Hulme, the kind of music that I was into, the magic of a night club moment, there were very few people I knew of who were doing the same thing. Now I am aware of others who were. Almost everyone is their own photographer now. Mobile phones & social media have given a platform for anyone to make & share images of their individual lives, whether it be their friends & families, holidays, public events or more private & intimate moments. Anyone can document their own lives now, so I no longer feel that I have to. I do still love photography, it’s still my favourite form of art, but I don’t feel compelled to capture it all anymore.

I suppose I’ve pestered you with questions for a while now. Have you got any wise words to wind this up with?

If you want to become a photographer you must learn your craft. Keep doing it, and you will get better. But you must remember to always be honest. Make honest images. Listen to the voice of your own integrity. Don’t worry too much if no-one sees any value in what you do. If you’re any good people will eventually see it. It may take years, it did for me, but images of the ordinary & everyday will one day become historical, meaningful & extraordinary.  

We live in a world today mediated by images, a Society of the Spectacle, but we still need photographers: People who have a good eye, an innate feel for the decisive moment; what to point the camera at and when to press the shutter. The images that you make today will be the memories of the future.  

See more of Al’s photos here.

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

Save The Queen

Ok, so I said I’d post this later but I just couldn’t resist!

Prompted by @randomtickleewriterstudent 

Summary: Burr helps Hamilton play his chess game, in a very unexpected way...

It was a rainy Thursday afternoon in Manhattan, New York.

Alexander Hamilton stood outside President George Washington’s office, a stack of papers in hand. He knocked on the thin door twice, causing the room to rumble softly.

“Come in”, came the voice of George Washington. Hamilton obeyed, stepping inside to find Washington with a quill in his hand, writing some sort of letter.

“I have the papers”, Alexander said, making the other man look up. Washington smiled softly at the sight of one of his hardest and most loyal workers.

“Thank you Hamilton”, he said, “Put them on my desk”.

Hamilton nodded and walked by Washington’s desk, placing the papers down. As he did so, he accidentally knocked over Washington’s jar of ink, causing ink to spill all over the letter Washington was writing, ruining it.

Hamilton gasped: “I’m so sorry!”.

Washington just shook his head and looked up at him, “Don’t be, son. We all make mistakes”. 

Yet Hamilton could tell that Washington was a little irritated. 

“I could, erm, rewrite that letter for you if you want”, Hamilton offered.

“That would be nice”, Washington responded.

And so Hamilton sat at the presidents desk, writing out on a new sheet of parchment the words that came out of Washington’s mouth. 

Once he was done, he dropped the quill, his hands a little red from witting so fast. Of course, Hamilton was used to this, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. Washington noticed Hamilton’s red hand.

“Sorry, did I go to fast?”.

“No”, Hamilton responded.

George Washington thought for a moment. “You seem worked out Hamilton, would you like to take a break with me?”.

Hamilton’s face lit up, “I would love to, sir”.

Hamilton really was feeling worked out, from both the essays he placed on the president’s desk and the letter that he just wrote for him. He didn’t often take breaks, but he couldn’t say no to the president of the United States. And it was fun spending time with Washington, he was a smart man and had lots of insights to give, in one game in particular...

“Chess!” both men said at once.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and than burst out laughing. Washington was a very good chess player, and liked giving Hamilton new techniques and strategies to follow. Of course, for every time he played Washington, the better he got himself.

They both walked over to Washington’s couch’s and set up the board on his coffee table, each man on either side of it. They didn’t even have to ask each other about what colour to play; Washington always played as black and Hamilton always played as white.

“Would you like me to give you tips as we play?”, Washington asked.

“No”, Hamilton replied, “I’m feeling competitive today”.

Just than, there was another knock at the door, making the room quietly rumble.

“Come in”, Washington called.

In stepped a short man: Aaron Burr. 

“Sir, may we have a discussion?”, Burr asked.

“Maybe later”, Washington responded.

Burr was about to walk out, when Hamilton said, “I have an idea! How about winner plays Burr!”.

Burr raised an eyebrow in confusion, before walking over to see the chess board on the table between the two men. Understanding, he nodded.

“Do you play chess?”, Washington asked.

Burr smiled, a common habit of his, “Yes, and I am quite good if I do say so myself”. Burr shook his head and added, “Sir”.

Washington chuckled, “You don’t have to call me that. For now”.

He patted a seat next to himself on the couch for Burr to take.

And so, the game began. Alexander advanced his pawn, to which Washington responded with a knight. Alexander took another pawn out to threaten that knight, and Washington advanced his knight further to the centre. 

A few moves later, and Washington was already dominating the game. Snatching pieces, threatening pieces and taking control over most of the board. 

Hamilton cursed under his breath every time another valuable piece was taken, wishing that he had accepted the other man’s guidance.

Burr seemed to be very interested in the game, observing the board and calculating many possible moves for each player and their outcomes in his head. He noticed Hamilton make a very stupid mistake with his queen, and had to try hard not to make a noise as to spoil the game.

Just than, Washington stood up, “Do you guys need a drink?”. The other two shook their heads. “Well than, if you’d excuse me, I’m just going to get some water for myself, be right back”. And with that, the president left the room.

Alexander and Burr sat in silence for a few moments, before Burr muttered: “Your in trouble”.

“What?”, Alexander asked.

“Oh, I mean, Washington will destroy you when you get back”.

Hamilton tilted his head, “Why?”.

Burr snickered, “Look at your queen Alexander”.

Hamilton looked at the board. “What? I don’t see anyth- OH SHIT.”

Burr chuckled to himself, “Yeah, that is a bit of a problem isn’t it”.

The problem they were talking about: Washington’s pawn was just diagonal from Hamilton’s queen, and he would surely take it on the next move. Crap, why didn’t he see that?

“Of course”, Burr said at a clearly frustrated Alexander, “You could cheat”.

“What?”

“I said, you could cheat. Quickly, move your queen before Washington gets back, hopefully he won’t notice anything”.

Hamilton raised an eyebrow, he rarely saw this side of Burr. Burr never cheated, at life or in a game. Yet Hamilton was ready to obey, as it could have been his only chance of winning the game. He did as Burr suggested, and moved his queen one space down. 

A few moments later, Washington returned with a small glass of iced water in his hands.

“Now, where were we?”, he said, resuming his position on the couch. As soon as he glanced at the board before him, a smile spread across his face.

“Hamilton?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Did you move your queen when I was gone?”.

Crap. 

“No”, Hamilton lied, fumbling with the buttons on his coat.

“Are you sure?”, Washington asked him, raising an eyebrow, a wide grin on his face.

“Yes”, Hamilton responded, tying to keep eye contact with the man as his knees wobbled.

“Come’ere son!”, Washington chuckled, walking to the other side of the board and sitting down on Hamilton’s couch, wrapping an arm around the man’s shoulder. Hamilton squeaked.

“Now what if I told you”, Washington explained, “That this was all a test?”.

Hamilton’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping open. Washington chuckled at the look on the mans face, and Burr also couldn’t help letting out a humph of amusement. Hamilton shot Burr an ice-cutting look, to which he just responded with a finger to his lips, as if to say: ‘Don’t tell him I suggested it’.

“Now”, Washington said, “Since I know that your a cheater, it’s about time I give you your next lesson”.

With that, the president pounced on him, leaving him laid back on the couch.

“Never cheat at chess”, Washington said down at him, “Because there are consequences”.

Hamilton gulped,”What kind of consequences sir?”.

“Well, glad you asked”, Washington said, a smug smirk glued to his face; “You see, the other day, I went in to check on you at your house, and I saw something very interesting through your window. You were play fighting with your friend John Laurens, is that correct?”.

Hamilton’s eyes widened once again, “Uh, umm....”

“Oh, my eyes never deceive me son. But you know, you have always seemed to me like the ticklish type”.

“Wait-sir-NO!”, Hamilton cried, but it was too late, Washington had started clawing his quick fingers up and down his ribs.

“No what?”, Washington asked, not slowing his attack.

Hamilton tossed his head back in hysterical laughter, trying to squirm away to no avail.

“Whats wrong son, are you a little ticklish?”, Washington teased, making his hands towards the other man’s belly, scratching and teasing at the thin cloth of his shirt. 

Burr watched the whole thing from the other couch, with a smile on his face.

Hamilton thrashed and squirmed.

“BUHUHHHUHUHUHUHURRR HEHEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHEHE!”, he begged, squealing as Washington swirled his pointer finger into his belly-button.

Burr just chuckled, “Washington was right, there are consequences for cheating you know”.

Oh, the irony.

“SIHIHHIHIR, WAHAHAHAHASHINGTON, PLEHEHEHEHEHASE!!!”.

“Please what?”, Washington asked, “What is it Hamilton, do you want more tickles?”.

“NOHOHHOHO!”, he cried, “NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE THIHIHIHHIHIHNGS!!!!”.

“Things?” Washington questioned, “Can you not say ‘tickle’ Hamilton?”.

Hamilton turned crimson, squirming around and kicking lightly in his laughter. 

Washington tried out the mans neck, which was exposed from him tossing his head back in laughter. He shrieked and pinned it down to his chest.

“NOHOHOHHOHO WHYHYHHYHYHY?!?”

“Why? Because you cheated, thats why Hamilton. And you thought I wouldn’t even notice”, Washington teased.

This was torture, just torture. Yet of course, Alexander didn’t exactly hate it. 

Ok, he loved it.

But why would he not? He was playing with Washington like a little kid after a long day at school. And the feeling of just laughing freely was...lifting. Like the worlds problems vanished for those moments, and he was just having fun with a friend.

But that still didn’t stop the man from begging and squirming.

“Wait, stop”, Burr said to Washington, making him halt his attack. A huge smile spread across the shorter’s face: “I have an idea”.

“Wait, Bur, don’t you dare!”, Alexander threatened, as the other approached him and Washington.

Burr’s eyes flashed, “Don’t I dare what Alexander? This?”.

“No! Wait-”, Burr started squeezing the sides of Hamilton’s stomach with both hands, which he knew Hamilton couldn’t stand.

“NOHOHHO HEHEHEHEEHELP AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”, he cried, his laughter ticking up a pitch. 

Washington smiled down at the scene before him, “Oh, your in trouble now son”. He went back to Ham’s neck.

“YOHOHOHOHOHOUR NOHOHOHHOHOT MYHYHYHYHY DAHAHAHAHAHAD!”, Hamilton laughed, the sensations almost unbearable.

“And you, son, are not a fair chess player”, Washington responded teasingly, watching as the man completely lost his mind under the attacks.

“I was right Hamilton, Washington would destroy you when you got back!”, Burr slipped out.

Washington stopped his fingers and looked up at Burr. Burr, realising his mistake, cupped a hand over his mouth.

“What was that Burr?”, Washington asked.

“N-nothing”.

“Did you warn Hamilton about the queen?”.

“N-no”

“Did you suggest that he cheat?”

“N-no”

“Are you ticklish?”.

Washington stepped over to Burr’s side of the couch.

“N-no”.

Hamilton chuckled, sitting up, “Nothing he just said was true, sir”.

“Hamilton!”, Burr exclaimed, feeling betrayed. Hamilton just shrugged.

“You shouldn’t have done that Burr, attacked when I warned you not to”.

“And”, Washington added, “There is a punishment for assisting in cheating too”.

And soon, Burr was trapped on the couch, letting out streams of giggly laughter.

It was a rainy Thursday afternoon in Manhattan, New York. And a very playful one to!

Oh my dog I’m blushing so hard right now just from writing this! Hope you enjoyed, and my back in a little hungry so please give some feedback!

[bytheangell]

Bonds Fated and Forged

(Read on AO3) Square Filled: Witch/Familiar for @shadowhunterbingo Pairing: None, Gen.  Rating: Teen – Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Tags:  witches, familiars, clary fray & alec lightwood friendship Summary:   When Clary comes to Alec for training neither of them could imagine the changes in their lives that crossing paths would bring.  -------------

Clary knows that witches are meant to feel a deep connection to their familiars. She knows this because it’s one of the first things she’s told while learning about her magic, hearing others speak of a bond that they feel in their souls, a truth they simply know once they have them that they’re simply fated to be together.

When Clary begins to come into her powers - powers her mother never wanted her to know about, powers her mother hid from her which left her defenseless and vulnerable when she came of age - she also comes across Magnus. Magnus, a cunning and clever familiar in the form of a black cat with a streak of red fur by his ear, markings on his toes that almost look like rings, and the most gorgeous golden eyes, who saves her time and time again. He keeps her out of trouble, whether it’s trouble she knows she’s getting into or trouble she stumbles across unwittingly, especially after her mother’s death as she learns to navigate this new world on her own.

He’s a wonderful familiar and they get along well. There’s no doubt he cares for her and her well-being and helps her in any and every way possible... but there’s something missing.

“Don’t worry Magnus,” she says, glancing up at the cat as he sits in the open window while she sits cross-legged on the floor, carefully chopping a root and peeling the petals one by one from a flower that took two days of careful searching to find. “I know you feel it too. I’m glad you’re here, and I care for you deeply, but I promise if you ever find the witch you’re meant to be with… I’ll let you go, no questions asked.” She can’t hide the sadness in her tone or the way she has to swallow down the lump in her throat at the idea of losing him, even if they aren’t destined to be bonded for life, because she’s grown so attached to his presence since he came into her life.

But she knows whatever is fated to be, will be, and that goes for both of them.

For now, fate has a long journey ahead to some witches willing to take her in and train her for a little while, to see how she does. Clary’s just as eager to prove herself as she is to get away from this too-quiet, empty home, and sets off with Magnus by her side.

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

Alec gets along just fine with Dot. She’s quick, just the right amount of fun, and never hesitates to distract him from one of his darker moods when she notices his thoughts start to wander. Really, all things considered, he could have fared much worse when it came to the familiar that ended up given to him by his parents.

Except he knows how she came into his possession, and every time he remembers it sends a chill down his spine. His family, powerful individuals descended from a long line of renowned witches, are guilty of many things he himself would never sink to participating in. The taking of another’s familiar after a kill, for example, is one of those things. Dot hadn’t always been in their family, but rather was ‘acquired’ as a prize when her first owner was murdered, then passed down to his father, and then to him. Though the practice has been banned in recent years it doesn’t fix the centuries of damage caused.

“We’ll find where you belong, one day,” Alec promises her at night, alone in the dark of his room. “I appreciate you taking care of me until we do.”

He means it. He wants to undo every wrong his family has ever done, all of the prejudice and entitlement. If that means starting small and releasing his own familiar, no matter what the cost to himself, then that’s exactly what he’ll do. “You just say the word when you’re ready and I’ll figure it out.”

He knows it won’t be easy, but he has no doubt he can make it happen. He’ll have to because Alec Lightwood is a man of his word, no matter who that word is given to.

A fact that he’ll soon come to regret when he agrees to work with Clarissa Fairchild for the duration of her stay in his town.

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

Clary is told she’ll be working with Alexander Lightwood on her draught brewing techniques, as it’s easily the most lacking of her skills. She’s too impatient, adding too much too quickly, not stirring long enough… honestly, what she needs is a lesson in taking her time, and even though she knows that it doesn’t stop her from repeating past mistakes.

“At least he likes one of us,” Clary says after the first day, shooting Magnus a pointed look. “And don’t you dare try and deny it. I’ve never seen you take to anyone on a first meeting the way you took to him.”

Magnus, in a motion reminiscent of the ones he perpetrated during her readings earlier, comes to circle around her ankles, weaving in and out between her legs.

“He hates me,” Clary laments, moving around Magnus and throwing herself down onto her bed dramatically. “He rolled his eyes so far back into his head I thought they may very well stick there and called me incompetent at least four times.”

She can’t believe she came all this way only to learn only to be scolded and ridiculed at every turn. She thought the adventure somewhere new to study would be fun but instead wonders if she wouldn’t be better off back home after all.

----------

“You’ve been weird all day,” Alec says to Dot. “Come on, what is it.”

The look the cat levels him at, before glancing back over at the cauldron he’d been using earlier, says it all.

“I was not too hard on Clarissa. She can’t think the things she’s doing are okay or she’ll never stop doing them.” Alec sighs. “And why do you care anyway?”

Dot turns away from him, another telling gesture, and Alec’s previously annoyed frown turns into a slow smile.

“You found her endearing, didn’t you? I should’ve known. You’ve always had a bleeding heart for the enthusiastic ones.”

Dot makes an indignant noise and turns her tail up at him, which only causes Alec to laugh.

“Well, you’re in luck, because I’m forced to work with her again tomorrow, and probably quite a bit after that as well. Can you believe they want her to participate in the ritual at the end of the month? Even I might not be good enough to get her ready by then,” Alec sighs.

Dot shakes her head. He knows it’s meant to be disapproving but he isn’t about to let her get the last word in before he blows out the candles for bed.

“You’re right, of course I’m good enough. The only question is: is she?”

He supposes they’ll find out soon enough.

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

Clary has never worked this hard at anything in her entire life. The ritual they’re meant to perform at the end of the month, one to bring protection to the people of the town for the upcoming year, requires a complex potion that all participants must provide a portion of. The end result of the combined draught is then split up amongst them to drink. The slightest error from any one individual could be the ruin of the entire event.

So yeah, there’s a lot of pressure.

Clary likes to think she’s rising to the occasion pretty well, all things considered, but it’s difficult not to get distracted when Alec’s familiar, Dot, stares at her intently throughout their sessions while her own familiar is much more inclined to spend his time around Alec than her, even if he still keeps enough of an eye out to wander back over and casually sit in front of something he notices she missed, or nudge her away when she moves back too quickly to continue her spellwork over a potion.

Magnus hasn’t conveyed anything to her yet but she can see what’s happening. There’s a bond between him and Alec, she can see the way their attention is drawn to one another, how the more Magnus approaches him with physical contact the more Alec seems to soften. It could be nothing, or it could be…

Well, she can’t think about that right now. Not with the focus she’s putting into her studies. Plus, Alec has a familiar, a complication she definitely doesn’t have time to figure out just then.

But she will, afterward, if Magnus wants what she thinks he wants.

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

Dot gives Alec’s clothing a sniff and turns her nose up at him. Alec winces.

“Sorry,” he says, knowing that he must smell entirely of Magnus who barely left his side during Clary’s lesson that day. “You know I’m not going to give you up, not until you’re ready. I made you a promise and I’m going to keep it.”

He wonders if she can read between the lines of what he’s saying, though. The connection he feels to Magnus… he’s never felt anything like that before. The more they’re around each other, the more contact he has, the more he can feel a tug at the very heart of him towards the familiar.

Clary’s familiar, he reminds himself. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. No, scratch that, he isn’t thinking because he can’t very well go snatching up someone else’s familiar no matter what he thinks he feels.

Which, he realizes the following day, won’t matter for long. After weeks of working with her it’s time for Clary’s final trial before the ritual and she comes so, so very close… the potion appears to be the proper color for the first few minutes, but after waiting an hour it turns a deep midnight blue. She added bitter almonds instead of sweet almonds, a potentially deadly mistake if not caught. Both varieties grow in the surrounding area and distinguishing one from the other was one of the first things he covered with her when she arrived.

Clary knows the gravity of the error she made, her sorrow so great over the realization that Dot even goes over to comfort her with a soft purr and a gentle nudge of her hand. Clary pulls her hand back quickly at the touch, looking between it and Dot with a strange expression.

“Did you feel that?” Clary asks the cat, and Alec eyes them both warily.

“Feel what?” he asks them, curious, but Clary doesn’t answer him, only watches as Dot backs away from Clary, suddenly alert. “Dot, you okay?”

Very uncharacteristically of her, Dot abruptly leaps out of the room. Alec doesn’t have time to figure out what all of that’s about, though. Not when he’s now forced to tell the others Clary isn’t ready to participate.

He finds it very unlikely he’ll be seeing her, or Magnus, around the village again.

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

“I can’t believe he told them to keep me away!” Clary fumes, pacing back and forth in her room. She can hear the faintest hint of voices carried on the wind from the forest, at the clearing by the small creek she often goes to just to listen to the running water and clear her head. She should be there. She should be helping. Instead, she’s stuck at home, useless, and left to pack her bag to leave in the morning. Her studies were to culminate in assisting tonight, and she finds it highly unlikely Alec will want her around to continue when she’s already proven herself too inexperienced to be useful.

Magnus shares her restlessness, she notes, watching him also restlessly move about the room when he’s normally very content to lounge about while not actively engaged in something.

She finally gives up and tries to sleep. It’s nearly midnight after all, and there’s no point in being just as tired as the others tomorrow if she isn’t even participating in the ritual.

She’s nearly asleep when she hears something at her window. Thinking it’s the wind she ignores it until she hears Magnus scratching at the glass, meowing.

“Wha--” she says, blinking her eyes open to look over as they adjust to the dark.

Dot is outside the window.

Dot, who judging by the position of the moon outside, should still be at the ritual with Alec.

Clary bolts out of bed and opens the window to let her in. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Dot only gives a pained noise before motioning with her head towards the woods. “I’m not welcome there,” Clary reminds her, but she’s insistent, tugging at the sleeve of Clary’s nightshirt. “Alright, alright, I’m coming!”

Clary shrugs on a cloak and makes her way into the forest. She follows Dot, even though she already knows the way and where they’re headed -- except the sight that greets her isn’t at all one she expects to see.

Everyone, including Alec, is on the ground. She tries to shake him awake first, and then the girl next to him, but to no avail. Some are entirely passed out, others convulsing, others still conscious but gasping for breath.

“Okay. They’re alive, so that’s… good. Better than not alive,” Clary says out loud to herself in the dark. By the light of the flames around her she can see into the potion, which is turning from the bright, solid aqua it’s meant to be to a dark midnight blue.

She recognizes it instantly as her mistake from the day before… except this isn’t a mistake. One person’s spot from the circle is empty - someone did this, intentionally trying to harm the people in this circle and curse their families in the process, and then fled.

Her instinct is to panic, her mind racing a million miles an hour and her own breathing coming as shallow as those on the ground. Magnus and Dot both circle Alec, nudging his cheek, his hand.

Alec. Alec needs her. She thinks of his time teaching her and his words come back instantly, advising her to slow down.

She takes a deep breath and assesses the situation.

“He told me about the almonds during one of our first lessons,” she says to herself, thinking out loud. “My notes!” She turns to leave and notices Magnus’ hesitation behind her to follow as he nuzzles Alec in concern.

“Stay with him. Both of you,” she tells them.

Clary takes off back through the forest, heading home as fast as she can while sending a constant stream of prayers that the others will be okay until she returns.

She grabs the stack of paper with her handwriting scrawled over it and thumbs through the pages until she finds what she’s looking for. A quick glance tells her she has most of what she needs here… a few ingredients are close enough to substitute. It’ll have to be enough.

Clary is a whirlwind as she opens bottles and rummages through her storage pantry, heating up some water in a cauldron to toss the beets and their roots in first, glancing at the other items she gathered. She’s tempted to dump it all in at once, knowing time is of the essence, but forces herself to wait. Patience. Alec always told her she lacked patience, and she needs it now more than ever. There’s no one to catch her mistakes if she messes up this time.

She takes her time adding in the arugula and the last of the erythrite stored in the small house she’s staying in while she’s here - she’ll have to leave something in their place later as repayment if she can’t find any to replace them with. The stones sink to the bottom as she stirs and speaks over the potion, clearly and with care. It may be the most focused she’s ever been as she stirs in the last of the ingredients, careful to measure, and triple-checking the leaves in front of her to be certain by the patterns of their veins and ridges she’s using the right one, even though they came from labeled jars.

Her foot taps impatiently as she stirs, and allows the thickening liquid several minutes to simmer despite her desire to pour it into a container and rush it back immediately. She isn’t going to let Alec down again.

Only when it’s done, the color exactly what it should be and the temperature cooled enough to drink, does she place it into several carefully sealed glass jars. She wraps them in cloth so they don’t break in her bag and take back off into the forest.

Magnus and Dot both bristle when she arrives, immediately kneeling down next to Alec and pulls out the first bottle.

“You have to trust me,” she insists. Dot comes up to her then, brushing against the side of her leg, and Clary feels it. That spark again like she felt the day before when Dot came to comfort her. It only lasts for a moment, where Clary imagines she can almost hear Dot’s thoughts encouraging her on, the comforting emotions transferring through the simple touch. “I--” Clary starts, wondering if that means what she thinks it means… but now isn’t the time. “Thank you.”

Clary takes a deep breath and opens the bottle, opening Alec’s mouth and tilting his head back to place ten drops into his mouth before closing it. His shaking slows, he gives a desperate gasp for air, and his eyes shoot open with the action before he turns, coughing and sputtering to his side.

Clary is positive she’s never felt more relieved in her entire life. Magnus is immediately curled up alongside Alec, comforting him, and Clary feels her heart ache at the sight. She’ll have to speak with Alec after all of this is over, she resolves.

She doesn’t have time to dwell on her familiar, not when she has 10 more people to administer the anecdote to before it’s too late. While Magnus stays with Alec, Dot trails close behind Clary.

Clary systematically goes around the circle, placing ten drops into the mouths of one of the poisoned witches before moving on to the next. Glancing behind her Clary feels more relief settle her nerves when the ones she saved start to come to, some standing if they’re well enough to.

Once Clary’s certain everyone has enough to keep them alive she gives the remainder to those who are the worst off, with stomachs turning from the illness brought upon them or too weak to stand just yet.

“It was her!” One of them speaks, pointing an accusatory finger at Clary. “She sabotaged us, to curse us out of spite for sending her away, and returned to cover her tracks! How else would she know to come here now?!”

Clary freezes at the charge, but as the angry man comes towards her Dot jumps in front of her and hisses a warning that stalls his movements. Clary knows she’s an outsider. She knows she’s a screw-up. But how could they think she’d do this to them? To anyone?! The accusation leaves her shaking and she has half a mind to flee when Alec speaks up behind her.

“She saved you. She saved all of us,” Alec defends her, looking around. “If you want the one responsible you only have to look and see who isn’t here, poisoned with the rest of us.”

The others, for the first time, take stock of who is present.

“Victor,” one man utters in disbelief.

“I believe you owe Clary an apology,” Alec continues pointedly. “And more than that, some gratitude.”

The man looks down at the ground, muttering, “Yes, well… thank you, Clary.”

“I do wonder how you knew…?” Alec asks, but kindly, unlike the demand from before.

“Dot came and got me. When I found you all the potion had turned a deep blue… just like my mix-up from yesterday. So I knew what to make to counter it.”

Alec shakes his head in disbelief. “I suppose everything is fated to happen for a reason, isn’t it?”

The others begin to pick up the pieces of the failed ceremony, to try and salvage what is left and hope it’s enough to carry them through the upcoming year. Clary helps the best she can, and by the time the sun begins to rise she sits down on a rock, her thoughts heavy as she knows what she needs to do before she moves on.

While she’s sitting there contemplating her next move, Dot comes over and jumps into her lap. Clary feels it again - that spark of calming warmth that seems to spread through her entire body this time.

Alec stares at her, eyes wide. “She’s never done that before. She barely lets me pick her up.”

Clary didn’t even pick Dot up, Dot came to her.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Alec continues. Clary expects to see anger or betrayal in his eyes when she looks up at him but there’s only a strange softness there instead. “I always told her I’d help her find the witch she’s meant to be with… I think it might be you.”

“I think it might be, too,” Clary admits. It feels exactly how she imagines the bond should feel, the way she’s heard it described when someone finds their destined familiar.

“I know it’s uncommon to have two familiars, and you already have Magnus, but… I’d be grateful for it if you’d consider having her,” Alec says, his voice solid and resigned even though it’d leave him without a familiar of his own, a risky move considering the ill-fortune already abound here.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about Magnus,” Clary says, watching the way Magnus sits between the two of them, obviously trying very hard not to crowd Alec after the overwhelming events of the night but not wanting to be too far from him, either. “I saw the way you two were together during my lessons. And tonight, when you were ill… I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more worried. And I get myself into plenty of trouble to worry over,” Clary adds.

Alec looks down, his feet kicking at a piece of stone. “I thought there might… but I didn’t want to be presumptuous. And that isn’t why I brought up things with Dot. Even if you take her, I wouldn’t expect you to-”

But Magnus lets out a dramatic yowl that cuts Alec off, and while Alec startles at the sound Clary knows it all-too-well and only laughs as Magnus walks over and sits directly on top of Alec’s left foot.

“I don’t believe I have much of a say in the matter,” she says with a small smile. “Looks like he made his choice.”

Alec looks uncertain, nervous almost, but Clary only gives him an encouraging nod. He got along so well with Magnus before, what was he suddenly afraid of?

“I always knew he wouldn’t be with me forever,” Clary says, though her voice does choke up a bit as she says it. They may not have been soul bonded, but she loves Magnus, and she’s going to miss him more than she cares to admit, even if he’s probably grateful to find himself a more responsible, grounded witch he won’t have to pull out of trouble every five seconds.

She wonders if Dot, after a little while with her, will change her mind on wanting to stay, but she doesn’t voice that concern aloud as she gently shifts Dot off of her lap and stands. “Take care of each other, will you?” Clary says, turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Alec asks, confused.

“To get some rest before my journey back home. I didn’t pass my training, I couldn’t take part in the ritual… my month of training here is up and I see no reason they’d want to keep me around,” Clary points out.

She can see Alec realizing the truth of her words as he speaks, as if after everything that happened he forgot why she wasn’t here with the rest of them in the first place tonight.

“C’mon, Dot,” she says, turning to leave before Alec can humor her with false comforts. She’s exhausted and she’s more than ready for this day to be over.

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

Alec watches Clary walk out of the clearing with a frown. Magnus makes a sad noise at his feet and Alec bends over to pick him up, getting a better look at his golden eyes which are wide with worry.

“I know,” he says. “But she’s right. If she’d been part of the ritual, her magic aligned with ours, then maybe… but…” he sighs. “You do want to stay with me, don’t you? Because if you’d rather go back with her I’d understand,” Alec asks Magnus.

Never in a million years did he imagine his disastrous first encounters with Clary would result in him finding Dot’s destined witch, or his own fated familiar. He thought from the very first time he met Magnus that there was a chance, but he pushed it away every time, never daring to imagine what he felt was shared. But now…

Now, watching Magnus settle in his hold again, he knows that it’s mutual. That Magnus is here to stay, for good, drawn to Alec as much as Alec is drawn to him. And Dot has the same, a true blessing for them both, as unusual and bittersweet as the trade had been.

“Alright,” Alec says, feeling relief at the confirmation. He waits, using the excuse of going over the space in the clearing one last time so that Clary would be far enough ahead of him that they wouldn’t need to make awkward small talk on the way back. She’s already inside when he passes by the home she’s staying in, but the additional relief he feels at that is gone the moment he hears the sound of barely-stifled crying come through an open window.

“I know, Dot,” he hears Clary’s voice say from inside as he forces his feet onward, trying not to linger and eavesdrop. “I don’t want to leave, either. I thought I might find a home here…”

Alec’s heart sinks. He knows from casual conversations during their work that Clary’s mother died recently, that she’s had no one to properly train her, nowhere to stay besides a home that’s too painful to go back to. The thought of her starting over, of others being dismissive and cruel because they don’t yet know her to trust her… the way the others were back in the woods… the way Alec himself was a bit at the beginning of the month, he realizes with a start.

He has to do something.

His pace quickens, but not to avoid lingering by Clary’s temporary home as he rushes to make a few hasty, and likely ill-advised, house calls to some already angry and sleep-deprived elders.

Three hours later Alec is practically swaying on his feet with every step he takes back towards the outskirts of the town where Clary, with any luck, will still be. He doesn’t have time to sit down and rest as much as he needs to and pushes himself to continue, getting there just in time to see her tossing the last of her personal possessions into her bag.

“Clary, wait,” he says.

“Are you alright?” she asks, her concern at his fatigued appearance immediate. “Is it the poison? I don’t have any erythrite left here but I can find more, or go get help-”

“No, I’m fine,” Alec says, her worry bringing a small smile to his face. Even after thinking he’d abandoned her that easily over her previous failures, here is that kind soul and caring heart willing to go out of her way to help him again. “Just tired. May I sit?”

“Of course,” Clary says, pulling out a chair for him. “It’s been hours since we left, why haven’t you rested? And why are you smiling? You look delirious, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I haven’t slept,” he says, that small smile growing wider now in anticipation of his news. “Because I was too busy getting approval for you to stay.”

Clary freezes. “To… stay? Here?”

Alec nods. “We may have to find you a new home when the Herondales return from their travels, but… here, generally speaking, yes.”

“For how long?” Clary asks warily.

“I know you don’t have anyone to teach you just now, so I requested you stay so I could continue your lessons. And with how much you have to learn...” he says, with just the slightest hint of teasing to his tone. “It could take a month… or two… or twenty. If, of course, you’d like to stay.” Alec knows what he overheard the night before, but Clary doesn’t, and it wouldn’t do to presume on something not meant for his ears.

He hopes he isn’t overstepping here. Alec realizes at that moment he actually hopes she wants to stay.

His life has been far from easy since Clary came into it, but it’s been interesting for certain. She has a lot of natural talent and potential, and, though he’d never admit it to her face, he started to warm up to her quite a bit these past few weeks.

Clary’s eyes shimmer and she moves forward to throw her arms around him in a hug, as awkward as that action is while he sits in the chair still.

“You really mean it?” She asks as she pulls back.

“I really mean it,” Alec promises. “You have a home here as long as you’d like it.”

He thinks of fate and the people who cross paths for a reason. Clary brought him Magnus, she saved his family, his friends, she was a perfect fit for Dot. Clary isn’t the sort of person you allow to leave and never return without a second thought - she’s the sort of person meant to make an impact, a difference.

Her presence here is a change, for certain, but it’s a change worth taking a chance on.

“Thank you,” she says, the words tumbling out in what sounds more like laughter than speech. “You won’t regret this.”

No, Alec agrees silently to himself. He doesn’t think he will.

[xpressz]

Performance Anxiety and Self-Sabotage: Five Tips for Working with our Inner Critic

Image credit: Xenia Pestova Bennett by Nick Harrison

Performance anxiety is a universal experience, a survival mechanism that is hard-wired. Symptoms vary, but many of us get shaky limbs, blurry vision, dry mouth, shallow fast breathing, rapid heart rate, sweaty and cold hands. Personally, I get both sweaty palms AND cold fingers – the worst possible combination for a pianist! Even talking about these symptoms can make some of us experience them. This is our sympathetic nervous system kicking into action and responding to perceived as well as real danger (the so-called “fight-or-flight”). To make matters worse, many of us can exaggerate the sympathetic response and literally sabotage ourselves with negative thoughts before, during and after playing for others, spinning into uncontrollable worry-loops instead of activating the parasympathetic “rest-and-digest” response to return to equilibrium.

While resources to help musicians and other performers are increasingly available, it can still be difficult to find clear guidance on what to do before, during and after a performance, particularly if you are a non-professional without access to an educational institution or an established support network. Below is a selection of my personal favourites that might help.

1. Developing a toolkit of routines (before performing):

At times, our negative self-talk can be difficult to access and rationalise through simply thinking or analysing. This can be especially difficult when we are nervous, waiting to go on stage to perform. It can be helpful to bypass the worry-loops of the mind by approaching them through the body and doing something different, perhaps something physical that makes us move and also helps release tension and cultivate relaxation. What can we do? There is an enormous variety of approaches at our disposal, so it is important to compile a personal toolkit of helpful routines that you can do regularly BEFORE getting to a challenging situation. Choose something to implement every time you get ready to practise at home and be able to call on these tools before playing for others. Familiarising yourself with a series of possible interventions can help bring a sense of normalcy to an otherwise stressful situation. Simple movement-based sequences and stretches, particularly synchronised with breathing, are extremely helpful for calming the mind. While breathwork alone can also be very beneficial, the advice to simply “take a deep breath” can be inappropriate and misguided. Over-breathing and breathing into the chest are in fact associated with triggering our sympathetic nervous system. Instead, choose exercises that elongate the breath and lengthen the exhale while breathing through the nose to encourage abdominal rather than chest breathing and activate the parasympathetic response. Breathwork combined with slow movement can provide a gentle entry point (Qi Gong, Tai Chi, gentle Hatha yoga or Yin Yoga). 

Exercise: stand (or sit) with the weight equally distributed between the feet (or sitting bones). Shake all tension out from the shoulder down the arms and into the fingertips, shifting your weight side to side. Soften the elbows and cup your hands with the palms facing up. Bring them to about chest height as you inhale slowly, combining breath with movement. Turn the palms to face the floor and exhale down to your waist; repeat about ten times.

2. Cultivating non-reactivity (before, during and after performing):

I have several students who describe their performance in negative terms after they play in a lesson or workshop. Does that sound familiar? Some of us are programmed this way: conditioned from childhood to focus on what needs to be improved, yet forgetting to acknowledge what is already good. This is particularly detrimental during performance and can make us lose focus and make more mistakes. The first step is to notice and recognise our negative thoughts. We can learn a lot from introspective approaches to non-reactivity in mindfulness meditation. Mindfulness practices also have strong connections to the Alexander Technique principle “inhibit and direct”. We begin by learning to notice the impulse first, without trying to change it. Start by trying to simply notice every time you criticise yourself, then don’t criticise yourself for criticising! Just notice, take a pause. Sometimes, this pause is already enough to begin shifting the pattern and rewiring old neural networks.

Exercise: take a mental pause and notice the next time you have a tendency to criticise yourself. You have a choice to continue, or shift: decide.

3. Learning to shift our focus of attention (before and during the performance):

I’ve written about looking backwards to what went wrong and what we can fix when we practise. When we perform, we must look forwards to what is coming. This is the time to implement our non-reactivity. It doesn’t come naturally and it’s not enough to decide to do this. Like anything else, we have to practice. In practical terms, we can work to literally widen focus of awareness. Often, when we are experiencing fight-or-flight, we tense up and our field of vision can literally narrow down. Work to consciously expand this and notice your peripheral vision as well as whatever else is going on. This will help reading if you are playing off the score and improve your technical accuracy as you will learn to release more and more of the unnecessary tension. Try the “Four Foundations of Mindfulness”: what are the physical sensations (touching), thoughts (knowing), feelings (being), sounds in the space (listening)? Developing a formal meditation routine can be very helpful here (mindfulness meditation also allegedly shrinks the amygdala, the part of our brain associated with fear and anxiety).

Exercise: sitting comfortably, start with a mini-body scan, metaphorically melting your attention down from the top of the head through the face, torso, arms and legs and releasing any tension you are aware of. Notice the four foundations of mindfulness: “touching” (sensations), “knowing” (thoughts), “being” (feelings), “listening” (sounds). Remind yourself of your motivation for performing music – why do you do this? I do this short grounding exercise every time before I make any sound at the piano, whether by myself or in public.

4. Working with rewards (during and after the performance):

Negative expression to others has a tremendous impact on how we programme ourselves. Some of us are conditioned to be “modest”. Forget modesty. When people congratulate you, don’t make a sour face. This is very off-putting and can colour their impression of the performance retrospectively (I learned this after coming to congratulate a respected professor after a recital backstage. They created a terrible impression when they started listing everything that went wrong!). Who cares if you feel you messed up somewhere? Be sure to congratulate and reward yourself immediately and do something to relax to cultivate being able to enjoy the experience of performing. Resent research in neuroscience points to neuroplasticity. It is possible to literally rewire our brains through encouraging ourselves with small rewards. Instead of hoping for major dopamine hits by expecting total perfection from ourselves and exuberant praise and standing ovations from others when we perform, we can acknowledge and celebrate tiny achievements and the completion of little stepwise goals we set for ourselves with special treats. Take a moment right now to think of a positive reward mechanism that you can set up to pamper yourself!

Exercise: smile and say “thank you” the next time someone pays you a compliment!

5. Establishing safe spaces: exposure therapy

Exposure therapy can be helpful, but it is important to practice this in safe settings, building up slowly and being patient with yourself. It might take a series of performances of the same repertoire for you to start noticing results. What can you plan for yourself right now to perform in stress-free environments? Why not arrange several Zoom or Skype recitals? Choose one or two pieces and “tour” them, playing for multiple friends online. Practice your grounding routine, non-reactivity and shifting your focus and make sure to prepare a treat for afterwards. You will start seeing results after five or six performances, feeling more relaxed, able to perform more accurately and more expressively. This will help you build confidence and enjoy playing for others.

Exercise: arrange a series of Zoom or Skype recitals for yourself right now!

I hope you found these suggestions helpful. While they are simple, they are not necessarily “easy” and will take some practice before they begin to feel more natural. I would encourage you to commit to trying these for at least a month and really give them a go before deciding if they are for you or not. We will explore more approaches in greater detail in my online performance anxiety course starting this September: you can find more information here. As with any toolkit, the approaches that resonate with you might be very personal and different from what feels appropriate for me or someone else. I would be very happy to hear from you with any feedback or suggestions if you’d like to reach out!

[betteratbeing]

In-Person, hands-on lessons are better than virtual lessons

You will be using your AT skills in the real world—learn them that way

AT lessons that bring us together in real time and a shared, three-dimensional space enable us to use ourselves well as we go about our daily lives—the way swimming lessons, conducted in a pool, stream or ocean, teach us to move easily and safely through water. Virtual swimming lessons wouldn't make sense, and I don't believe virtual AT lessons do either.

I want my students to be able to use their AT skills well, in real life, in everyday activities. To achieve this, in-person, hands-on teaching is essential. And that is the only kind of teaching I do at betterATbeing.

Alexander Technique: Conversations in touch

Learning Alexander Technique is like a conversation directly between two nervous systems. In addition to verbal instructions, much of the experiential knowledge I convey to students reaches them via the primary language of Alexander Technique: touch. Without touch, crucial information would be missing in our communications, reducing the teaching and learning process to a kind of pantomime or guessing game.

My hands tell me how the student is doing

In my work as your AT teacher, I rely on my hands, not just my eyes, to help me carefully monitor your use of your Self (your dynamic circuit of mind-body functions, which are inseparable). If I were to teach virtually, relying on a visual assessment alone, I could not find out if you are really learning. I can check your understanding best by observing extraordinarily subtle changes in your muscle tension and release, which happen instantaneously in response to changes in your thinking. Changes in muscle tension are not always visible in a virtual teaching setting.

Get More Info : In person Alexander Technique Lessons NY

Websites : https://betteratbeing.com/

Contact Us : In person Alexander Technique Course

[nasa]

Astronaut Journal Entry - The Last Week

Currently, six humans are living and working on the International Space Station, which orbits 250 miles above our planet at 17,500mph. Below you will find a real journal entry, written in space, by NASA astronaut Scott Tingle.

To read more entires from this series, visit our Space Blogs on Tumblr.

I can’t believe that Expedition 55 is already over. Today is Sunday, and we will depart the International Space Station (ISS) next Sunday morning (June 3). 

168 days in space. 

There have been many challenging moments, but even more positive highlights of our time on ISS. The new crew from the Soyuz MS-08 spacecraft (Oleg Artymyev, Drew Feustel and Ricky Arnold) joined Norishige Kanai (Nemo), Anton Shkaplerov and I last March. Since then, we have completed two spacewalks, captured and released the SpaceX Dragon-14 cargo craft, captured the Cygnus OA-9 cargo craft and completed a myriad of maintenance and science activities. 

The team on the ground controlling, monitoring, supporting and planning has been amazing. It is always great to work with them, and especially during the moments where the equipment, tools, procedures or crew need help. It is incredible to see how much a good team can accomplish when methodically placing one foot in front of the other. 

I have been lucky in that the first crew (Mark Vande Hei, Joe Acaba and Alexander Misurkin (Sasha)) and the second crew (Drew, Ricky and Oleg) were all amazing to work with. I do believe the planets aligned for my mission onboard ISS. 

Drew and Ricky have been friends forever, and listening to them nip at each other provided a ton of great humor for the ground and for us. Their one-liners to each other reminded me of several scenes from the movie Space Cowboys. 

This a great example that happened as I was writing this log entry:    

Ricky:  Hey Maker, is this your smoothie?   

Maker:  No.  

Ricky:  It must be Drew’s.

 Drew:  Hey Ricky, don’t drink my smoothie.

Ricky:  What smoothie? This one has my name on it (as he writes his name on it).

 Drew:  Okay, Grandpa Underpants, hands off my smoothie.

Ricky:  Okay, Feustelnaut – we have rules around here, so this is my smoothie now!

All:  Much laughing. (To quote my kids: “LOL!”)

One the hardest things to do in space is to maintain positive control of individual items such as tools, spare parts, fasteners, etc. We try very hard not to lose things, but even with all of the attention and positive control, items can still float away and disappear. 

We generally hold items in a crew transfer bag (CTB). Inside the CTB are many items for the system that it supports. When the CTB is opened, the items are free floating inside the bag and tend to escape. It is very difficult to maintain control of the items – especially if they are small, do not have Velcro, or when the daily schedule is so tight that we are rushing to stay on time. We always try to close the CTB’s and Ziploc bags after removing or replacing each item to maintain positive control, but this takes much more time to do for individual items, and if the timeline is tight, we absorb more risk by rushing. 

The same applies for tools, which we usually keep in a Ziploc bag while working on individual systems and tasks. Last month, I was installing a new low temperature cooling loop pump that had failed a month or two earlier. I gathered the needed tools into my modified (with Velcro) Ziploc bag as I always do and floated over to the work area. When I got there, one of the tools that I had gathered was missing. I looked for 30 minutes, and could not find it. Lost items are very hard to find because the items that escape are usually barely moving and blend in with the environment very quickly. A lost item could be right in front of us and we would never see it. 

Our crew, after learning these lessons, decided that when anyone loses something, we would tell the other crew members what we had lost with a general location. This has had a huge impact on finding items. If a different crew member can help within the first minutes of losing an item, the new crew member has an excellent chance of finding the item. We have proven this technique several times during the expedition – and Nemo was the very best at quickly finding lost items. But, in my case, we still could not find the missing tool. Our amazing ground team understood and vectored me to a replacement tool and I finished the job. I spent the next 3 weeks watching, looking and never forgetting about the lost tool. Then, one day last week, Oleg came to the lab and handed us a tool he had found in his Soyuz spacecraft, way on the aft side of the ISS. Amazing. We finally found the tool and I was happy again. This was a lucky ending. ISS has many corners, crevices and hard-to-see areas where missing items could hide and never be found.

We captured a Cygnus cargo craft last Thursday. I was very impressed with the entire team. Our specialists and training professionals in Mission Control did a great job preparing the necessary procedures and making sure we were proficient and ready to conduct operations. The robotic arm is a wonderful system that we could not operate ISS without. Being in space, however, it has some very unique handling qualities. If you think about a spring-mass-damper system just as you did during physics or control theory class, and then remove the damper, you will see a system that is very subject to slow rate oscillations. 

In test pilot terms, damping ratio is very low and the latency is well over a half of a second. Also in test pilot terms – this is a pilot-induced oscillations (PIO) generator. These characteristics require crew to “fly” the robotic arm using open-loop techniques, which requires a huge amount of patience. Test pilots are sometimes not very patient, but understanding the system and practicing with the incredible simulators that our ground team built and maintain help keep our proficiency as high as possible. The capture went flawlessly, and I was very impressed with the professionalism across the board – crew, flight controllers and training professionals – what a great job!

Drew, Ricky and I got to play guitar a few times while on ISS. This was fun! Drew connected pickups to the acoustic guitars and then connected the pickups to our tablets for amplification. I’ve never heard an acoustic guitar sound like an electric guitar amped up for heavy metal before. We had a great jam on the song “Gloria”, and a couple others. Rock on!

Last night we had our last movie night. The entire crew gathered in Node 2 and watched Avengers Infinity Wars on the big screen. We enjoy each other’s company, as we did during Expedition 54, and this was a welcome break from the daily grind of trying to complete the required stowage, maintenance and science activities while preparing for departure.

Our last full weekend here on ISS. I gave myself a haircut. We usually clean our spaces each weekend to make sure we can maintain a decent level of organization, efficiency and morale. This weekend is no different, and it is time for me to vacuum out all of our filters and vents. You’d be amazed at what we find!

The top 5 things I will miss when I am no longer in space:

The incredible team that supports ISS operations from our control centers

The camaraderie onboard ISS

The breathtaking view of the Earth, Moon, Sun and Stars

Floating/flying from location to location with very little effort

Operations in the extreme environment of space

Find more ‘Captain’s Log’ entries HERE.

Follow NASA astronaut Scott Tingle on Instagram and Twitter.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com.  

[thecomicsnexus]

IRON MAN #123-127 JUNE - OCTOBER 1979 BY DAVID MICHELINIE, BOB LAYTON, JOHN ROMITA JR, BOB SHAREN, BOB WIACEK AND BOB MCLEOD

SYNOPSIS (FROM MARVEL DATABASE)

While Iron Man is flying over Manhattan he suddenly loses control of one boot jet and crashes through Marvel Comics office building (and an editorial meeting) and only narrowly comes to a safe halt. 

He returns to Stark International to test the armor against its recent malfunctions but everything seems to be in perfect order. Tony takes Bethany out to Atlantic City for a day and they wind up in the casino when Blizzard, Melter and Whiplash arrive to rob the premises. 

While sneaking off to become Iron Man, Tony upsets Uranus Bliss at a slot machine. Iron Man is able to fend off each of the criminals but when the trio combine their attacks simultaneously hitting him with heat and freezing cold, his armor starts to weaken and Whiplash prepares to crack it open with his whip.

Bethany shoots Whiplash's whip in mid-strike blocking his strike against Iron Man giving him a chance to marshal his strength and defeat the Melter and Blizzard. 

A fleeing whiplash is knocked out by Bethany who then berates Iron Man for not doing his job and guarding Tony. Iron Man slips away and returns as Tony to finish his date with Bethany. 

The next day Tony returns to Stark International to prepare to welcome Serge Kotznin at the UN. Tony also monitors SHIELD's attempted buyout of his company and tries to avoid some of his responsibilities by patrolling as Iron Man. Later Iron Man arrives at the UN to represent Stark International to Kotznin at the treaty signing. While Bethany is present as Kotznin's bodyguard. 

Just as Kotznin and Iron Man are posing for photographers, Justin Hammer has Phillip Barnett activate their device controlling Iron Man's armor firing a repulsor ray through Kotznin killing him in front of hundreds of witnesses.

The police move in to arrest Iron Man for the death of Sergei Kotznin (the Carnelian ambassador) but he professes his innocence, saying he will need to be free to prove it and refuses to surrender. Aware that they cannot force him to surrender, the police give him the benefit of the doubt and let him go free, to Bethany's annoyance. In exchange, Tony promises to hand in the Iron Man armor. 

An hour later Tony gives an inoperable suit of Iron Man armor to the mayor to satisfy the authorities. Tony and Bethany argue over Iron Man's status and Tony winds up getting drunk afterward. 

Later Tony visits Avengers mansion and has Capt. America train him in hand-to-hand combat, knowing that he cannot rely on his armor while he seeks the persons responsible for Kotznin's death. Recalling that Whiplash is working for a "Hammer," Tony recruits Scott Lang to find out who Hammer is. He rings the answers from Whiplash. 

Tony heads to Monaco to find Justin Hammer with Jim Rhodes, who insists on accompanying him. Tony and Jim follow a lead to Hammer's location, where they run into costumed men in Hammer's employ. 

While being chased by these men, they head to the beach where more of Hammer's men suddenly emerge from the ocean ahead of them.

Jim Rhodes tries to explains his recent actions to the local police. They are surrounded by an angry crowd, which calls Rhodes an American pig and a Yankee hoodlum. Rhodes claims that a few minutes before, this whole beach was covered with armed goons. He was just fighting for his life. Someone then knocked his head and left him unconscious. He claims that his opponents left the beach while he was passed out. The crowd claims that Americans are liars, just like Tricky Dick. They blame Rhodes for destroying the beach, and want to teach him a lesson.

The police arrests Rhodes and one of the ringleaders of the angry crowd, intending to question them at the police headquarters. Rhodes wants the police to go after the goons, because they have abducted his boss. Rhodes further claims that he works for Tony Stark. The police officer in charge of the situation does not believe that Rhodes has any connection to Stark. He mocks Rhodes for his claim.

Tony Stark awakes at Justin Hammer's Villa and comes face-to-face with Justin Hammer himself. Hammer introduces himself and claims that Tony is his primary competitor. Tony points out that he had never even heard of Hammer. Hammer replies that he goes to great lengths to avoid official attention. He distributes his influence among a great many diverse enterprises. His power and holdings in the business world are second only to those of Tony Stark. Stark International has been a thorn in his side for some time. Hammer reveals that they recently competed for the contract with Carnelia. He had made a generous offer to the ambassador to get that contract. The ambassador chose Stark International instead, because he was fascinated with Iron Man.

Hammer leads Stark to a board room, where Phillip Barnett is working on opening Stark's briefcase. Phillip reports that he and his team have been, so far, unable to override the print-lock mechanism of the briefcase. Hammer warns them not to damage the briefcase, in case it contains something important. Stark contemplates that his spare armor is in that case. Hammer introduces Barnett as the man who developed the computer system of the room. The system utilizes a hypersonic scan technique to bypass the protective coating of Iron Man's armor. The technique was used to neutralize the armor's controls on several occasions and to manipulate its actions. Tony Stark assumed that the armor was simply malfunctioning. The killing of the ambassador was one of these occasions, intended to discredit Stark International and to win the Carnelian contract for Hammer. Hammer reveals that the plan has already worked. The Carnelian consulate signed the contract with one of Hammer's subsidiary corporations, in the morning of this day.

As Hammer offers his explanations to Tony Stark, the two businessmen are surrounded by armed guards. Tony approached a guard and asks him whether he knows what a clavicle is. The guard replies that he does not know. Stark karate chops the guard's clavicle, causing the man to drop down on his knees. Tony then attempts to run away from Hammer. The other guards attempt to give chase, but Hammer instructs them to let Stark go. Hammer seems certain that Tony will not get far. Tony reaches the surrounding wall of the Villa and climbs to the top. He is expecting to escape into the mountains or woods outside. He is shocked to discover that the Villa is actually part of a giant boat, surrounded by sea. There is no way to escape, and Hammer mocks his futile efforts.

As the guards capture Tony Stark, Hammer learns that some of his returning agents will soon be arriving at the Helipad. The scene shifts to Manhattan, at the offices of Cabe and McPherson, security specialists, which also serve as the private quarters of Bethany Cabe and Ling McPherson. Bethany is getting dressed, and Ling urges her to hurry up or they will be late for their assignment. Bethany seems lost in her thoughts, and Ling asks her what seems to be wrong. She wonders whether Bethany's thoughts are for Alexander van Tilburg or for Tony Stark. Bethany admits she is thinking of both men. She comments that it looks like history is going to repeat itself. She does not think that she can take it again. The scene ends.

The scene shifts to the furnished cell where Tony Stark is held. He notices a liquor cabinet and goes in search for a drink. To his disappointment, the cabinet is empty. He calls for room service and alerts the guard outside his cell. He tries to bribe the guard to bring him some alcoholic drinks. The guard reports that Hammer's information network has noticed that Tony is drinking too hard. Hammer wants him sober and has given such instructions to his staff. The only drink available to the prisoner is a jug of water. Tony is frustrated with the guard's attitude, and decides to teach him some manners.

Some time later, the guard hears the noise of something breaking within the cell. He immediately enters the cell to investigate, and steps on a puddle of water. Tony Stark in a relaxed mood, reports that he has broke an electric lamp. He holds the lamp in his hands and points to the water. The guard is suddenly very scared and asks what Tony intents to do. Tony uses the lamp to electrify the water, electrocuting the guard. He then escapes. Tony figures that the house current of the Villa will not be enough to permanently damage the guard, but it should be enough to knock him out.

Tony does not locate any other guards on active duty, and manages to sneak out to the Villa's garden. He locates a helicopter about to land. He plans to take over the helicopter to use it as his escape vehicle, in order to return to Monaco and alert the authorities about Hammer's conspiracy. While spying the helicopter, Tony finds out the identities of three of Hammer's agents. They are the Blizzard, the Melter, and Whiplash. All three exit the helicopter, while dressed in their super-villain uniforms. Hammer has helped them escape from Ryker's Island. Hammer warns his agents that he may not help them again if they fail. He finds neither pleasure, nor profit in financing failures.

Tony sneaks away. He has realized that Justin Hammer has more secrets and plots than he expected. He wants to find out what they are. He decides to use a gimmick prepared for him by Scott Lang. The belt that Tony is wearing actually consists of 20 feet of ultra-thin and super-strong nylon weave. His belt buckle contains a hidden switch, which changes the buckle into a miniature grappling hook. After a few failed efforts, Tony manages get the grappling hook attached to the roof of the Villa. He uses the nylon rope to climb the walls of the building. He gets to a second-story window, kicks and shatters the glass, and gains access to Phillip Barnett's computer laboratory. He uses martial arts to knock out Barnett and his guards. He retrieves the armor case. It contains a spare version of Iron Man Armor Model 4 and incendiary bombs prepared by Scott Lang. Tony prepares to use the bombs to disable the computer.

Hammer warns his three agents about the consequences of failure. They suddenly hear an explosion from the computer lab. Hammer deduces that Stark caused the explosion. He sounds the alarm and calls out his reserve operatives. A small army of super-villains emerges from the Villa and responds to the call. They include the Beetle, Constrictor, Discus, Leap-Frog, Man-Killer, Porcupine, Spymaster, Stiletto, and Water Wizard.

Hammer and his agents soon enter the computer lab. A voice alerts them that Mr. Stark has been taken to safety. In his place is Iron Man, who threatens to take every one of the agents and rip them to tiny pieces. He will then come after Hammer himself.

Iron Man blasts away the army of super-villains. Iron Man asks Justin Hammer himself, what is a businessman doing with a goon squad like this. Hammer replies that the explanation is quite obvious. Iron Man's foes need money to develop their weapons, to pay for their bail, to replace broken equipment. He offers sanctuary and financial aid to these gentlemen and ladies, in exchange for 50% of their profits.

Stiletto is the first villain to recover from the attack, and he starts counter-attacking. He throws as many knives as possible to Iron Man. He is aware that his knives can not penetrate Iron Man Armor Model 4, but he is counting on some of the knives going through the holes in Iron Man's mask. Warned of Stiletto's intentions, Iron Man lowers Plexiglas shields over his mouth and eye slits. He is now invulnerable to Stiletto's attack. Discus next attempts to take Iron Man down by throwing discs at him. Iron uses reverse-magnetism to throw the discs back. The discs take down Stiletto and Discus.

Justin Hammer concludes that none of the villains can face Iron Man alone. He orders them to attack en masse, as this is their only chance to defeat him. The villains obey his command and join forces against Iron Man. Iron Man uses physical force against the crowd of assailants, and he is secretly pleased with this opportunity. He has been through enough frustrating and humiliating experiences lately, and he is taking out his frustrations on the villains.

Iron Man suddenly starts flying, transporting the surrounding villains with him. He flies through a wall and to the open ground outside. He then turns his attention to the Beetle. He grabs hold of the wings of Beetle Armor MK I and removes them. Now unable to fly, the Beetle calls for help. The Leap-Frog responds to the call and attempts to rescue the Beetle. Iron Man takes control of the Beetle's tentacles, uses them to swing the Beetle around, and forcefully throws the Beetle to the Leap-Frog. The two villains collide in mid-air, taking them both out of the fight.

Hammer orders the Water Wizard to use his powers against Iron Man. The Wizard questions Hammer's sanity and attempts to escape instead. He mentions almost getting killed while fighting in the Vietnam War, while his only opponent was an army. He uses his powers to create a surf-scooter to use as his escape vehicle. He acknowledges that he still owes Hammer money for the bail he paid, but promises to eventually send him a check to settle the debt. Hammer is angry because of the Water Wizard's lack of gratitude. But he takes note that he and his operatives might need to escape the Villa. He instructs Spymaster to alert the Villa's navigator that he needs to prepare the lift pods.

As the battle continues, the Blizzard and the Melter combine their powers for an attack against the Iron Man armor. They fail to even scratch the armor. Iron Man grabs both villains and causes their heads to collide. They are both out of the fight. Constrictor then traps Iron Man in his coils. Man-Killer interferes and instructs Constrictor to leave Iron Man to her. She comments that the hero is just a man. In response, Iron Man uses his image projector on her. Man-Killer sees herself surrounded by Iron Men and starts fighting them. She does not realize that all eight of them are illusions, since the real Iron Man has still not escaped the coils of the Constrictor.

Iron Man tells the Constrictor that he has read information about him. He has read how the Constrictor stuns people with his electric coils. He informs the villain that Iron Man operates on electricity. He can absorb the Constrictor's electric attacks and use their power to boost his own strength. He uses the additional strength to stretch the Adamantium coils of the Constrictor and to slip right out of them. He then grabs the coils and uses to swing the Constrictor around. He sends the villain flying towards Man-Killer, taking them both out of the fight.

The next villain to challenge Iron Man is the Porcupine. He considers the Constrictor and Man-Killer to be mere amateurs, while he is a professional. He comes equipped with mini-grenades, with enough of a concussion to stop Iron Man. Iron Man uses his fists to shut down the grenade launcher of the Porcupine Armor, preventing the grenades from escaping. A worried Porcupine notes that the launch process had already begun, and the grenades are still going to explode. The grenades explode within the Armor and destroy it. A shocked and injured Porcupine finds himself still alive, but with his Armor gone. Iron Man taunts him.

With the super-villains either defeated or missing in action, Justin Hammer orders his armed guards to hold off Iron Man. The guards are suddenly attacked by machine gun fire. The attackers are the Monaco Police, which is operative five helicopters and flying above the Villa. They ordered the guards to surrender. Iron Man flies up to greet them, and discovers Jim Rhodes aboard one of the helicopters. Rhodes explains that he had trouble convincing the police hat the real Tony Stark had been abducted. He wants to know the whereabouts of his boss. Iron Man claims that Tony Stark was safely transported to the shore. He notices police boats surrounding the Villa. He wants to get to Hammer before the police does.

Meanwhile, Hammer prepares an escape plan. The entire island villa begins rising on a cushion of jet-powered air. The Villa flies away at an ever-increasing spreed. Iron Man realizes that the flying island is heading towards international waters, which would allow Hammer to escape police custody. He prepares to attack the Villa. His attack splits the structure in two pieces, while Hammer's agents struggle to escape the ruined building. Phillip Barnett finds himself in the waters below, and has never learned how to swim. He calls for help, and is rescued by Iron Man. Iron Man wants him to testify as a witness in court. Barnett fears double-crossing Hammer, but then realizes how much Iron Man can hurt him. He offers his confession by either writing or on tape.

Later on the docks of Monaco, Tony Stark and Jim Rhodes converse. Justin Hammer was not among the people captured by the Monaco Police and he apparently escaped safely. The police claim that they have enough evidence to use against Hammer in court. Stark thanks Rhodes for his help, and Rhodes claims that he was only doing his job. As they smile sincerely, the warmth of their friendship is re-assuring.

The story skips ahead for several days, to a television news broadcast. A special judiciary committee has acquitted Iron Man for the murder of Sergei Kotznin. There was overwhelming evidence that his armor was being controlled by an outside force, during the murder of Kotznin. Iron Man is briefly interviewed by a reporter from CBS. He claims to feel fine about his exoneration. He does not tell the reported that he still feels guilty about the murder. He keeps seeing Sergei Kotznin's face in his sleep.

Mayor Ed Koch returns to Iron Man the version of Iron Man Armor Model 4 which was in police custody. Koch explains that there will be no charges pressed against Iron Man for disobeying orders and using his spare armor. Iron Man then meets Mr. Pithins, head of Stark International's public relations department. Pithins does not seem happy. Even with the exoneration, the press is not though with coverage of Stark International. Iron Man was still involved in a murder and the company still lost the Carnelian contract. Public confidence on them is down.

As Iron Man steps outside the CBS building, there is a crowd of New Yorkers outside. He notices that a blonde little girl has dropped her doll. He retrieves the doll and offers it back to the girl. The girl is terrified of him, since she saw him kill Kotznin of TV. She calls for protection. Her mother promises to not let the bad man hurt her daughter. The embarrassed crowd disperses, including the crying little girl. Iron Man suddenly feels alone. He later blames his Iron Man armor for terrifying little children. He angrily shuts it in the armor case.

Later, Tony Stark is drinking alone at a nightclub in Forest Hills. He feels disgruntled and even a century-old brandy fails to cheer him up. Renaldo, a staff member, brings him the phone, as there is someone asking for him. The caller is Bethany Cabe, who wants to arrange a meeting with him. Tony tells her that he will write a reminder on a napkin. He is already quite drunk and obviously slurring his words. Bethany realizes that something is wrong, though he does not admit. She asks him to meet her at 914 Lexington. He accidentally writes down 419 Lexington, before the phone call ends.

The following day, Tony Stark waits in vain at 419 Lexington and gets angry at Bethany for snubbing him. Meanwhile, Bethany waits in vain at 914 Lexington and feels that Tony no longer cares about her. She feels that Tony is on a path towards self-destruction, but does not know if she can stop him. The scene shifts to Avengers Mansion. Jarvis is cleaning the dishes, after cooking dinner for 7 Avengers. He is pleased that they liked his mother's recipe. He hears laughter inside and is alarmed. With the exception of the Vision, who is on monitor duty, all the Avengers should have left by now. Jarvis goes in search for an intruder, and hopes that there will be no violence.

Jarvis finds a drunk Tony Stark with his new date, Amber Sunrise. The two of them are in a computer room. Tony Stark is showing off his latest gadgets to Amber. She calls them "cute". Jarvis reminds Stark that this equipment is classified. He also reminds Stark that showing it off to a stranger would upset Henry Gyrich. Tony thinks that Jarvis is pushing him around and gets angry. He tells Jarvis that he is a butler and a mere servant. He will have to remember his place and respect his superiors. Jarvis answers with a "yes, sir", but he can barely contain his anger. As Jarvis withdraws to the kitchen, Tony briefly feels regret. But then Amber convinces him to show her more gadgets. He is too drunk to feel there is anything wrong with that.

The following morning finds Tony Stark sleeping in his Long Island office. He is waken up by Bambi Arbogast, who tells him that Jarvis wants to see him. He tells her to send him in, though he is no condition for a proper meeting. Jarvis delivers a designation letter to Stark. He is unhappy with the way Stark treated him and unhappy with the direction the Avengers team has been taking lately. He feels that the Avengers have become a large collection of unhappy individuals, simmering in their own stew of repressed anger, resentment, and frustration. He has had enough.

After viewing a disappointed Jarvis exiting the office, Stark's mind clears and he finally understands something. He has been blaming all his troubles on the Iron Man armor, an inanimate suit. But the armor was not the one responsible, nor was Iron Man the one who belittled Jarvis. The root of the problems is himself and his drinking problem. He helplessly calls: "God help me". The image shifts to a bottle of whiskey.

REVIEW

What an adventure this has been. Sure, the main villain is surrounded by little villains, but that is not exactly the main attraction. Although, the murder accusation is a very good plot device.

There are some decisions that Tony makes that are a bit out of place, but I am going to blame the alcohol (he should have changed armors the moment he went through Jim Shooter’s office).

There is a very curious anecdote about Jarvis’ resignation letter. It is actually Dave Cockrum’s resignation. (He would become freelancer afterwards). It wasn’t Michelinie’s or Layton’s decision to put it there.

To: Anthony Stark

This is to notify you that I am tendering my resignation from my position. This resignation is to take effect immediately.

I am leaving because this is no longer the team-spirited "one big happy family" I once loved working for. Over the past year or so I have watched Avengers' morale disintegrate to the point that, rather than being a team or a family, it is now a large collection of unhappy individuals simmering in their own personal stew of repressed anger, resentment and frustration. I have seen a lot of my friends silently enduring unfair, malicious or vindictive treatment.

My personal grievances are relatively slight by comparison to some, but I don't intend to silently endure. I've watched the Avengers be disbanded, uprooted and shuffled around. I've become firmly convinced that this was done with the idea of 'showing the hired help who's Boss.'

I don't intend to wait around to see what's next.

Sincerely,

(Jarvis)

cc: The Avengers

Replace “Avengers” for “Marvel”.

And this is one of the many pranks on Shooter that would come to pass (Shooter being a very complicated figure at Marvel).

I like this story because of the “thriller” aspect of it, and I really enjoy the art. I usually don’t like Romita Jr. style, but that wasn’t developed yet. In fact, I think he is only doing breakdowns, but that is more than enough for me to recognize he did a great job (take a look at the panels where Iron Man talk to Rhodes on a helicopter).

Of course, it’s Layton’s art that you actually see. And apparently he did some plotting. I don’t think it was done the Marvel way, otherwise, Romita would have gotten a “plotter” credit (but with Marvel is hard to know).

I give this story a score of 8

[whatsherfacewrites]

OC Interview Meme

@skyholdherbalist​ Hi! And thanks for the tag! *cue Bryan Cranston “me?” gif*

1. What is your name?

“Owain.”

2. What is your real name?

“Owain Alexander Trevelyan. You want the titles, too?”

3. Do you know why you were called that?

“Family. Owain was my mother’s father’s name. Alexander was a great- something or other. ”

4. Are you single or taken?

“Quite taken.” Smirk. “Sorry.”

5. Have any abilities or powers?

The candles on the table flare for a moment.

“A few.”

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“A what?“

7. What’s your eye colour?

"I’ve heard them called grey.”

8. How about your hair colour?

He runs a hand through his hair and shrugs. It’s a dark black-brown.

9. Have you any family members?

“An older brother. Everyone else is dead or not worth thinking about.”

10. Oh? What about pets?

“We raised horses growing up, though I wouldn’t really call them pets. I suppose there are some cats about Skyhold, mousers mostly. Never given one a name.”

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

“Interviews.”  

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?  

“Riding. Reading, sometimes. Non-fiction mostly--I could never get into novels like Cassandra. I also like to experiment, try new techniques or combinations of spells that might be useful.”  

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

He laughs darkly. “I’m a battlemage. That’s what I’m good for, apparently.”

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Too many.”

15. What kind of animal are you?

“You mean if I were an animal, what kind would I be? A bird, perhaps.”

16. Name your worst habits.

He picks up the glass in front of him, swirls the contents, and takes a sip.

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“I had a mentor at the Circle, a long time ago. He was a visiting instructor on combat magic. They called him in because of the Blight, figured a few mages who could fight would be a good idea. Not too many, of course, can’t have us getting ideas and all. But I was selected, and for once, my old training was actually an asset. It made me a little… strange among my peers. But I didn’t care. I learned a lot from him. He only stayed a year. I heard he died fighting in Ferelden.”

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

“I’ve only ever been with women.”

19. Do you go to school?

“My brother and I had tutors growing up. History, languages, geography. Typical stuff. My father made sure we learned how to ride, how to handle a sword. He set a lot of store by that kind of thing. Did you know I wanted to be a Templar, once? Life is funny that way. I guess we had lessons at the Circle, too. But I can’t really think of it like school.”

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“I used to think that was never going to happen to me. It was forbidden, of course. I don’t know the first thing about it, not really. Isn’t that terrible? To be 34 and know nothing about these things? When I was a child, marriage was only about lineage and status. A contract, not love. My parents weren’t the best example.” He pauses, looks down at his glass. “But now? With the right woman? There are few things I’d like more.”

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

“Probably. Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor. People have expectations. I’m sure I’m rather disappointing in person.”

22. What are you most scared of?

“Every mage has a healthy fear of possession. You have to face it every night. Seeing those Wardens at Adamant…” He clears his throat and turns the now empty glass in his hand. “Anyway, that’s not— Well. Let’s just say there are many people I’ve come to care about. If I were to lose them, and then find it was all for nothing? That’s my greatest fear.”

23. What do you usually wear?

He looks down and gestures at himself, dressed in a simple shirt and breeches under a worn leather coat with Inquisition badges. “This?”

24. Do you love someone?

He runs his tongue across his teeth and curls his lip in a small smile. “Yeah.”

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

“You ask about love and then about that?”

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

“That’s not even a question.”

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

"I was born into nobility. Second son of the, what, seventh most important family in Ostwick? At the Circle I was nobody. Now they call me Lord Trevelyan. But that will always be my father to me. Or my brother, now, I suppose.”

28. How many friends do you have?

“I try not to count.”

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

“I’ve never been very fond of sweets. But meat and pastry? Nothing not to like about that.”

30. Favourite drink?

“Whiskey.” He picks up the bottle for a refill. “This one’s alright.”

31. What’s your favourite place?

“There’s a little grove just outside Skyhold. Quiet, peaceful. Good place to get away from all this. But really, I find it’s less about where I am and more about who I’m with.”

32. Are you interested in someone?

“Sure.”

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

“If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“Ocean. Ostwick is on the Waking Sea. I miss it, sometimes.”

35. What’s your type?

“If I have a type, I suppose it’s a strong personality. I like people who know their mind and aren’t afraid to fight for what they believe. Some people find that intimidating, but I never have. I like a challenge. It makes me want to be worthy.” He lifts the glass to his lips. “Nice... eyes never hurt either.”

36. Any fetishes?

“Hah. Remember what I said about being disappointing? Next question.”

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

“It depends. I aim to please.”

38. Camping or indoors?

“I spent the better part of my life cooped up in a tower. I like to think I’m making up for lost time. Besides, it’s rather romantic, sleeping under the stars. Or so I’m told.”

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

“I didn’t even want it to start.”

40. Now it’s over!

“You just wanted to get to 40.”

[learningcherryblossoms]

Lesson 36:  Education of Deaf Children

Oralism - Manualism Controversy

At the time Abbe de l'Epee was using French Sign Language (FSL) to educate deaf in France, educators in England were exclusively using "oral methods" (only speech; no signing or fingerspelling) to teach deaf children.  Ever since, there has been a controversy about the "best" method for educating the deaf.  Should deaf children be educated through their "natural language" based on signing or should they be taught through spoken language only?

Some deaf children, with hearing aids and intensive speech and auditory training, can develop highly intelligible speech and function well in a school that uses only speech.    However, many deaf children would find it difficult to learn exclusively through speech because even powerful hearing aids do not allow them to discriminate speech well enough to understand all or most of what is said to them.  

Moreover, they do not hear their own speech well enough to correct errors in pronunciation.  Many deaf children educated through oral methods fail to develop intelligible speech.  As these children grow up, they may find themselves without a viable means of communication.   They cannot communicate through sign language because they have not learned it.   They cannot communicate effectively through speech because they do not know it well enough to understand others speech or develop clear speech themselves.

On the other hand, exclusive reliance on signing and the failure to develop any speech at all puts the child at risk for being isolated from the dominant hearing society.    They can only communicate with other deaf signers and with hearing people with the help of interpreters.  This may cause difficulty in realizing their full potential in social relationships, education, and employment.  Moreover, regardless of whether a deaf child learns to speak or not, he/she must learn to read and write in a spoken language.  

ASL and other sign languages around the world do not have a script and, therefore, written materials like books are not available in these languages.   There have been numerous attempts to develop a script for ASL, but there is not yet a useful, widely accepted script for it.  Teaching how to read and write in a script based on a spoken language such as English using a sign language such as ASL has proven to be very difficult.  Many deaf children educated using the manual methods (sign language and fingerspelling) fail to develop adequate knowledge of reading and writing to succeed in education.

In US, Thomas Gallaudet championed the use of signing to educate deaf. Alexander G. Bell, a contemporary of Gallaudet (and the inventor of the telephone), advocated oralism.    The Gallaudet University in Washington, DC and the National Association of the Deaf (an advocacy organization of Deaf people in the U.S.) are in favor of the use of ASL with and among deaf. They do not oppose the use of speech but strongly argue for the use of ASL with all deaf people in this country. 

They do not approve of Manual English and only support the use of SPE when interacting with hearing people who do not know ASL.     They regard manual English as a corruption of their language (ASL) and, therefore, offensive.  On the other hand, the Alexander Graham Bell Association for the Deaf, a large and influential organization of teachers and parents of deaf children in the U. S. and Canada, among other organizations, favors the exclusive use of speech with and among deaf.  Thus the oralism-manualism controversy that started in the 18th century continues to this day!

Deaf Education Institutions

Until the early part of the 19th century, there had been no systematic attempts to educate the deaf. In the U.S.wealthy Americans sent their deaf children to England for education.  The American School for the Deaf (1817), formerly the American Asylum for the Deaf, in Hartford, CT is an example of a school in the US using manual approaches to the education of the deaf.  The Clark School for the Deaf (1867), Northampton, MA is an example of a school that uses oral methods to educate the deaf.  Today nearly all states have one or more state-sponsored special residential schools for the deaf that use an eclectic approach (a combination of oral and manual approaches) to educate deaf children.

The Gallaudet University founded in 1849 by Edward Gallaudet is the only liberal arts college for deaf in the world.  National Technical Institute for the Deaf (a part of the Rochester Institute of Technology) in Rochester, NY is an engineering school for the deaf.  Most colleges in the U. S. now have support services for deaf including note-taking, tutoring, assistive listening devices, interpreting, and counseling.

Methods of Educating the Deaf

   AURAL METHOD: Use of the residual sense of hearing in the deaf with the help of hearing aids, assistive listening devices, and/or cochlear implants. This is a natural way of learning to speak and, if successful, it results in natural-sounding speech.

    AURAL-ORAL METHOD: The residual sense of hearing as described above and speech reading (lip reading) are used for communication and education. Cued speech, a gestural system to help deaf read speech better, may be used to develop speech reading.  The addition of speech reading distinguishes this method from the previous method.

  THE ROCHESTER METHOD: All of the techniques of the aural-oral method along with fingerspelling are used to educate the deaf.  The addition of the fingerspelling distinguishes this method from the previous method.

  SIMULTANEOUS (TOTAL COMMUNICATION) METHOD: In addition to all of the techniques above, signing is also emphasized. As the name suggests, the total communication method employs all available means of communication - e.g. pictures, pantomime, reading, writing, signing, speaking, etc.  The addition of signing distinguishes this method from the previous method.

The first three methods are oral methods because they emphasize the development of speech and rely on hearing for the most part.  The last method -- simultaneous or total communication method -- is a manual approach.  Although it does include the development of speech, it is heavily dependent on the use of signing.

About 50 years ago, most deaf children were educated in special residential schools for the deaf.  Today, however, most deaf children live at home and receive education in neighborhood schools. 

 MAINSTREAMING is the term used to refer to the process of educating children with special needs such as hearing-impaired children along typically developing children in regular schools instead of being segregated in special schools.  SELF-CONTAINED CLASSROOMS are specially-equipped and staffed classrooms in a regular school for the education of children with special needs.

  A self-contained classroom for hearing-impaired children will have assistive listening devices discussed earlier and will be staffed by teachers certified to teach hearing-impaired children.  

Mainstreamed children spend a part of the school day in these classrooms and the rest of the time in regular classrooms.  ITINERANT PROGRAMS are for children who are mainstreamed into regular classrooms. 

An "itinerant" teacher of the hearing-impaired (a teacher who goes to different schools on different days) provides specialized educational services to a child in a neighborhood school.  The amount of time and number of days that a child receives such support varies according to the student's needs.  Because hearing impairment is a low incidence disorder and a neighborhood school may have only a few (often just one) hearing-impaired children, this model is cost effective.

[katychan666]

Choking on... stuff

Based on this: https://me.me/i/jace-guys-i-almost-choked-to-death-last-night-alec-13681614

Magnus, Jace and Alec were at a cafe nearby the Institute, the couple happily chatting, holding hands and Jace was just sitting there like a miserable pile of sadness as he was completely ignored. Alec seemed to be a lot more invested into his conversation with his boyfriend than to be paying attention to him at all. He was such a traitor! What was so much better about Magnus than him? In principle, Jace understood that the two of them were dating, but still. They asked him to join them for a drink, so why ignore him now?! Jace was just as interesting and as fabulous as Magnus! He wrinkled his nose when Magnus muttered something into Alec’s ear, who flushed and then started shyly smiling and laughing, Magnus glancing at Jace, who gave him a glare, but that didn’t seem to disturb the warlock too much.

Just before Magnus was able to tell Alec something else, Jace let out an impatient groan, tugging onto Alec’s sleeve since he was sitting much closer to him and Alec slowly turned to him, giving him an impressed look for being distracted in the middle of a very interesting conversation. Honestly, he had completely forgotten that Jace was there in the first place. Wait, why did they invite him again? Oh, right, Magnus was talking about something that he should spend more time with his parabatai. So, he did it because of Magnus!

“Yes?” asked Ale through his clenched teeth and rolled his eyes when he saw that Jace was acting like a needy child again and he rubbed his temples. Right, he loved his parabatai, he shouldn’t be this annoyed. “This better be good,” he then added and Jace felt shivers running up his spine when he saw that he annoyed Alec. Well, it wasn’t his fault that everyone was completely ignoring him! Why invite him out with them at all then?

“Just stop ignoring me,” said Jace with a pout and if looks could kill, Jace would drop dead right at that moment.What, he was serious? Oh, Jace was such a manchild! Couldn’t he entertain himself with something else? “You’re the one who invited me here, so please pay attention to me as well. You’ll be able to spend more time alone with Magnus later. So, now, talk to me as well, you two!” he then whined and Alec took in a deep breath. Very well then, he said to himself and pretended not to be annoyed, which wasn’t really working and Magnus noticed that, grinning as he watched his boyfriend chatting with his brother. Magnus said nothing, but carefully watched Jace and Alec.

“Okay,” said Alec and then forced a little, tiny smile. “So, what’s up, Jace? What’s going in your life at the moment?” he asked sarcastically, but Jace didn’t catch on that and he started thinking about something interesting. However, the more he thought about it, the more he figured that his life wasn’t interesting at all. Then, he remembered something that happened today and his eyes widened, banging his fists against the table and Alec arched his eyebrow.

“You guys, I almost choked to death last evening!” said Jace, his eyes wide and Alec narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.

“Oh, that’s such an important piece of information from your life, Jace. Congratulations,” said Magnus, trying to mock Jace, but Alec was already thinking of something else and Magnus looked at Alec.

Alec was carefully watching Jace and with his mind completely in the gutter, he completely misunderstood what Jace was trying to tell him and he looked at Jace seriously, the blond one giving his brother a questionable look and Alec took in a deep breath. He was preparing himself to give his parabatai the lesson of his life, rubbing his palms together and then he took in a deep breath before he finally spoke up.

“It’s okay. Next time just remember to stay still and breathe through your nose before you take in more,” said Alec seriously, Jace’s eyes wide, because he totally wasn’t on the same page as Alec, who was already taking this seriously. “Listen, your biggest enemy is your gag reflex,” he then added and Jace’s face went red, while Magnus glanced at them when he heard what Alec was talking about and he was trying to hold back his laughter, but was doing nothing to stop his blabbering boyfriend. Oh, this was hilarious. Plus, Jace was getting flustered, which was always a bonus in Magnus’ opinion and he leaned back in his seat and enjoyed the show.

“W-what?” stammered Jace.

“Yes,” said Alec and went closer to Jace. “It takes some practice, though,” said Alec then and pressed his lips together as he was trying to think of something else to say. “You need to learn how to get your gag reflex under control. And it’s not even that hard, you know,” said Alec and Magnus was shaking with laughter as he tried his best not to just laugh out loud, but Jace’s look was completely horrified when he finally understood where Alec was aiming with that. “It’s a process that takes time and effort, but there’s no other way around this. It’s all worth it in the end,” said Alec and nodded.

“Alec, I think you misunderstood what I-”

“Shh, Jace, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” said Alec and placed his hand on top of Jace’s shoulder, giving him a compassionate look. “You need to start out with something small and work your way up from there. Just remember to always breathe through your nose and practice. Practice and repetition and you’ll get the hang of it,” he then said and smiled proudly. “Just like me,” he then added and Jace almost choked on the water he started chugging down. He really didn’t need to know how talented Alec was at deep-throating and he looked over at Magnus, whose face was red as he was trying to suppress his laughter.

“Alec I was talking about choking on food,” croaked Jace and pressed his lips together. “W-what the hell are you even-”

“Oh,” said Alec completely unphased. Usually, he’d be blushing, but not this time as he was having far too much fun at seeing Jace losing his shit like this and he snorted. “Well I was talking about choking on… stuff in general,” said Alec in amusement and Jace quickly took one big gulp of his water and Magnus decided to chime in.

“I’m the stuff in general,” stated Magnus proudly.

Jace choked on the water for the second time and then he started coughing. “I really didn’t need to know that,” forced out Jace and Alec shrugged.

Alec laughed again when Jace said that and he then shrugged. “Hey, I was just giving you a friendly advice, you should be thanking me, for your information,” he then added and Magnus slowly wrapped an arm around Alec and pulled him in close, Jace still trying to collect himself and was trying to get himself under control, but it wasn’t working at all. Especially with Magnus wearing a smug look like that.

“You should value Alexander’s input,” said Magnus. “I made him good at it,” he then added and waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, you were a wonderful teacher, Magnus,” purred Alec against Magnus’ ear.

“And now the student surpassed the master,” joked Magnus, Alec chukling.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” said Alec and kissed Magnus softly. “There’s still a lot of techniques you need to teach me,” he then added and glanced at Jace on purpose, Jace slowly trying to come with an excuse to leave. He needed to leave and run away to Clary. He was going to be safe there!

“It’s always a pleasure to teach you, Alexander,” said Magnus and chuckled as he pressed a kiss on top of Alec’s nose. “You’re such a good student, always taking everything in, every single little detail,” he joked and looked over at the blond Shadowhunter, who was trying his best not to scream. This was too much. Just too much. Those two were impossible.

“You two… you know what, I’ll just leave,” said Jace, making up an excuse that Clary was needing him, but it was a blatant lie and all of them knew it. As Jace was gone, Magnus and Alec started laughing out loud, Alec laughing so hard that tears went to his eyes and Magnus wasn't that far away from him, because this was comedy gold. Bless Alexander!

“By the Angel,” stammered Alec and shook his head.

“I think you’ve scarred your brother for life,” said Magnus.

“Who cares, this was too funny,” added Alec and Magnus had to agree with that. Oh. It was hilarious indeed. While the two of them decided to spend a bit more time at the cafe, Jace went over to Clary and told her everything. However, her reaction wasn’t what he expected. Instead of trying to console him, Clary wanted to know more of what Alec told her, which only made Jace feel that more horrible. Clary called Alec, asking him for more advice and Jace was just sitting there next to Clary, wearing a horrified look on his face, hugging his legs as he pulled them up to his chin and was just staring in front of himself as Clary was getting lessons from Alec.

Not just his parabatai, but his girlfriend was a traitor as well!

[betteratbeing]

WORK SMARTER | ALEXANDER TECHNIQUE NEW YORK | BETTERATBEING

We all need to work smarter if we don't want to work in a state of continual pain and discomfort. And Alexander Technique (AT) is the perfect partner for better performance and workplace comfort, safety and sanity.

Most jobs involve upright activities (either standing or sitting). Being upright for extended periods of time is physically challenging, especially in stillness. So you are already working hard just maintaining a standing or seated posture - before you even begin doing the work you are being paid for.

In response to workplace pain, fatigue and repetitive stress, a great deal of ergonomic furniture is sold every year to employers (and employees) striving to make work in the upright bearable. But for the most part, furniture will not change things very much. Because the equipment that is malfunctioning is not just the furniture. It's our selves. How we do what we do is the problem.

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