#I do feel bad sometimes that like. I do feel like I beautify my art. Everyone does I think. But I know very few people look like that

[hajihiko]

I wish to be as attractive as your art style. You really do just make everyone hot.

well you'd only be pixels on a cold screen with no marks or history or warmth, which to me personally doesn't sound so hot. If I could capture a whole person as if real life (with different wrinkles and marks and hair and fat distribution and hues of colour and expressions) every time I draw, I would. You exist like that already, so if anything my artstyle wants to be like you.

[kitkat1003]

Tower Tales

3: Well, they’re not sad all the time, are they?

I posted this on AO3!  Diversify ur platforms kids.  Read the first two chaps Here, it’s kind of integral for ur understanding

@asilcorner sent me some ideas for this fic.  Give them love!  They have a great webcomic @ghostboyscomic that I love, and their art is so friggin cute.  ANYWAY TO THE FIC

(also the Dot section lowkey has a song and im v nervous about so pls b gentle I’m fragile)

They’ve started drawing up plans.  

For the Tower.  Why not put it together better, why not make the space a home now that it has to be?  Yakko refuses to let his siblings live in squalor, not when they have the ability to make it better.

Yakko is surprisingly adept at architecture, though Wakko can’t make heads nor tails of it.

“It’s just art with a little math,” Yakko shrugs off Wakko’s incredulous look with a smile, and Wakko frowns.

“I hate math,” He’s never had to do it in a classroom setting, but at this point he’s certain.  He lets Yakko continue to try and figure that mess out, idly chewing on his mallet as he glances up at the tall expanse of the tower.  

Yakko’s been thinking about expanding the kitchen and bathroom.  Dot says she wants a space for herself, but there doesn’t seem to be room for it between everything else.  Yakko tells her this kindly, though they can tell he’s not at all pleased with having to do so, and while she isn’t mad at him, she is upset at the situation.

“A proper lady is supposed to have a place to beautify herself,” She almost whines, but beneath the simple complaint is something closer to hurt, like this is another reminder that they’re trapped and they don’t have the luxury of comfortable space.

The frown lasts on her face longer than Wakko is comfortable with.  She’s his baby sister, she’s not going to be upset on his watch, unless it’s funny and not from a place of real hurt.  He glances up at the tall, tall ceiling.

Hmm....

Wakko grabs the lightbulb that appears above his head and tosses it into his mouth, crunching on it.  

“Careful, if it isn’t funny you’ll cut your tongue on the glass,” Yakko calls over his shoulder.  Wakko shrugs, and starts rifling through his gag bag.  It looks like he’s got plenty of material, and while Yakko keeps writing up plans Wakko gets to work.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s a couple of hours later that Dot looks up from her book and she sees an entire second floor being built-scratch that, being finished.  By Wakko.  Alone.

“Holy Cow!” She can’t help herself from exclaiming, and Yakko jumps out of the intense scene of concentration he was in and looks where Dot’s pointing.

His jaw hits the floor.

The first floor, now.

“Hi guys!” Wakko waves from the entrance to the second floor, nailing down the last spiraling stair to it.  “I got bored so I figured we could use a second floor!”

He skips down the steps and despite his rather hard stomping on them they stand firm.  The craftsmanship is impeccable; Yakko and Dot meet in the middle of the first floor and glance at each other in shock.

“What have you guys been up to?” Wakko asks, completely innocent, as if he hadn’t just made an entire second floor on his own in the span of a few hours.

“How did you do that?” Dot asks, incredulous.  Wakko looks confused, for a moment, and so she gestures wildly to the second floor.  He shrugs.

“Just thought we had a lot of ceiling space, so we could use another floor.  I think we have enough room for a third, but I thought I should take a break,” Wakko looks up at the new ceiling proudly.

“What measurements did you use?” Yakko asks, and Wakko stares at him blankly.

“Uhhhh...I kind of just started making stuff.  I’m not good with numbers,” he responds.

“But how did you even get the materials for this?” Dot rebukes, and Wakko pulls out a burlap sack.

“It’s all in my gag bag, see?” He reaches in and pulls out a long wooden board, showing it off before shoving it back into the bag.  “Easy peasy.  And look, Dot, now we have room for your girly stuff!”

“I protest to the fact that looking good must be described as girly, but regardless-I’m so excited!” She rushes forward and wraps Wakko in a tight hug, spinning him around.  When he’s set down he stumbles a bit, dizzy.

“Glad you...like it,” he mumbles, accent a little stronger, before shaking his head and coming back to himself.  “Do you guys wanna see the upstairs?”

Yakko, who has been previously speechless, jumps into action.

“Heck yeah I do!  C’mon!” He lets Wakko lead them up to the second floor, and they marvel at the open space.  Dot keeps pointing at places where she wants her stuff to be, and Wakko rolls his eyes, but it seems her joy brightens his day more than he though it would.  She was the reason he started building this, after all.  Yakko is already dreaming up new plans, thinking of how to best utilize the space they now have.  The kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom can stay downstairs, but they can make the living room smaller and put extra entertainment space up here.

“But, uh, yeah, that’s all,” Wakko has the audacity to look sheepish, and Yakko won’t stand for it.

“Wakko, this is beyond words,” He kneels down to his level.  “This is a great help.  Now, I think I should make something for us to eat, cause building this had got to have burnt up some calories, but do you think you might want to teach me how to build something later?” He smiles, and Wakko’s eyes go wide.  Teaching his big brother something for a change?  It’s a dream come true.

“Would I!” He tackles Yakko in a hug, and when Yakko catches him, just for a moment, he forgets the situation they’re in, and focuses on Dot’s giggles and the excited pattering of her feet on the new wooden floor, and on Wakko’s prideful expression and smile.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yakko has never had an issue with food before.  He’s learned to make it, because Wakko needs it and Yakko would never not be able to do something for his family’s needs, that’s ridiculous.

But right now he’s certainly regretting ever ingesting anything, because they’d had a sundae party to celebrate the third floor being made-a celebration type picked by Wakko, who had headed the third floor expansion-and now he can’t sleep, because he feels like he’s going to vomit.

His stomach feels like he just ate a bomb, and not for fun like Wakko sometimes does.  He curls in on himself, trying not to make a fuss, but he opens his eyes and both Wakko and Dot are leaning over either side of him, mirrored looks of concern on their faces.

“Yakko, you look terrible,” Dot deadpans, but he can hear the slight tremor in her voice.  She still occasionally hovers over Wakko, though has relaxed as he’s gone from eating like a normal person to his more “typical” unusually voracious appetite.

“It’s just some...,” he winces.  “Some stomach pain.  It’s nothing,” He smiles, even though he feels awfully sweaty and nauseous.

“I thought my problem was just stomach pain too,” Wakko rebukes, and, well, Yakko can’t really argue there.

“But we’ve been eating with you, Wakko, it can’t be that.  And it couldn’t be bad ice cream, or we’d be sick too,” Dot puts a finger to her chin and thinks, but can’t come up with anything.

“Don’t humans have that thing where they can’t drink milk?” Wakko suggests, and, well, doesn’t that make too much sense.

“Thanks for the plot mover, Wakko,” Yakko groans from his place on the bed.

“I’ll go get you some water.  Maybe if we flush it out with other stuff, it’ll go away quicker,” Dot hops off of the bed and off to the kitchen.  Yakko’s stomach groans in displeasure, and Yakko curls up tighter.

“Guess this means no more milk, huh?  Oh well,” Wakko shrugs, and Yakko half glares at him.

“I’m not banning milk from the house just cause I can’t have it,” He says, a growl in his voice.  Wakko shrugs again.

“Who said you were banning it?  I just don’t think we need it anymore,” He smiles, almost Cheshire.  “Don’t have the craving for it anymore, right, Dot?”

“Right!”

Yakko almost jumps when he feels the bed dip down with Dot’s weight, surprised by her return, but he shifts to face her and takes the glass of water offered with a smile.

“Thanks, sis,” he takes a few sips, and while it doesn’t change much, he gives her a thumbs up anyway, so she’ll feel like she helped.

“Wakko, you need calcium in your diet,” he goes back to arguing, and Wakko leans back on his hands.

“Pretty sure toons don’t have certain diet they need.”

“Pretty sure toons don’t need to eat at all, but,” Yakko raises a brow and lets the sentence hang.

“Touche,” Wakko admits.  “And hey, we’re broken body buddies!” He raises his hands up and grins, and Yakko tries for a smile, too, chuckling to himself.

“But I’m pretty sure we can get calcium in other foods.  Just saying,” Wakko finishes, and Yakko gets it, but he isn’t going to deprive his siblings of pizza and ice cream just because his body can’t handle it. 

But it’s an argument for another day, because Yakko’s stomach makes another very unpleasant noise, and he slowly sits up and starts crawling his way to the end of the bed.

“Where are you going?” Dot asks.

“The bathroom,” Yakko says, and his voice sounds weak even to his ears.  “Don’t wait up.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

An hour and a half later, Yakko stumbles out of the bathroom, drained, and he slumps in on himself as he shuffles back to bed, only to stop when he sees the bed itself.

In the middle, where he typically rests, is a fort of sorts.  Rather, it’s a perfectly shaped resting spot for him, lined with the softest pillows and with a blanket his favorite color, all as comfy as can be.

“Take a rest, brother,” Wakko gestures to the bed nirvana, though Yakko can’t help but notice him wince when he looks at Yakko.  Makes sense.

“Yeah, we set it all up nice for you!  See how it feels!” Dot adds, and Yakko smiles and makes his way to the bed, worming into the spot made to perfectly fit him.

He sinks into the softness and sighs.  At the very least, while his stomach is a mess, he doesn’t have to worry about any other part of him being uncomfortable.

“Thanks guys,” He mutters, spent.  He’s never going to even try and eat something with milk in it ever again, if this is the result.

“No prob,” Wakko waves off his thanks.

“You take care of us all the time.  Turnabout’s fair play,” Dot quips, and Yakko chuckles, sighing and closing his eyes.

He’s asleep faster than expected, but he stays awake long enough to feel Wakko and Dot cuddle up on either side of him, like usual.

Despite his intestinal discomfort, he smiles.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot stares in the mirror.

Her new vanity is rather spectacular, and she’s been living on cloud nine since Yakko and Wakko finished it.  They’d nearly gotten into an argument while making it-evidently, Yakko couldn’t understand how Wakko could see all the pieces and put them together without numbers or instructions, and Wakko couldn’t understand how Yakko couldn’t understand how the pieces fit together when looking at them as a whole.

Boys.  She shakes her head and sighs, looking back at herself in the mirror.

She can see her brothers behind her.  They match, of course, they’re the Warner Brothers.  

The Warner Sister is alone.  

She’s not unaware of why she was made.  A token female character, eye candy, take your pick.  She’s both.  Made to fill in the tiny gap Hollywood makes for female representation while continuing the legacy that women are supposed to look and act pretty, and that’s it.

It makes her blood boil.  And yet, isn’t she falling into it?  She wants to be pretty, she likes being cute, but is that just because she’s supposed to?

She’s not even just cute, anyway!  She can nearly go toe to toe with Yakko when it comes to word play, and Wakko barely has her beat when it comes to strength.  So what if she’s cute?  She was drawn that way!

So why does it still feel so weird?

Her brow furrows.  It’s not like she can even prove to anyone that she’s better, anyway, because Yakko and Wakko likely wouldn’t care or know, and they’re stuck in this tower for forever.

“My name is Dot Warner,” She starts, a soft tune, “And I always get the final word.”

She misses musical numbers.  She misses having fun outside of this place.  She misses messing with people.  Yakko and Wakko seem so similar-their names rhyme, for Pete’s sake-and she feels out of place here.  But they were out of place together out there.

“I though your name was Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third,” Yakko interjects, leaning a hand on her vanity.  “Surprised you forgot, sis,” It’s all gentle ribbing, but now is not the time.

“Oh, put a sock in it, Yakko,” She responds.

“Which one?” Wakko comes up on her other side, holding out two similarly disgusting socks for her to pick from.  She pushes him away.

“Leave me alone!” It comes out louder and harsher than she wants it to, and as a result Wakko looks bewildered, and Yakko lifts his hand from the vanity to move it to his hip.  “Go be-be gross boys somewhere else,” She tries to cover up the actual frustration with a weak excuse, but Yakko just crosses his arms and raises a brow, and Wakko walks back over, sans socks.

“What’s the matter, Sis?  Something’s bothering you,” She sighs at the question.

“You guys match better than me,” She grumbles.  “I’m the cute one, and that’s it?  You two get to be witty and strong and creative and funny and I’m just...,” She growls out the final word.  “Cute.”

She sees Yakko and Wakko share a look over her head, and rolls her eyes.

“You seriously think that’s all you are?” Yakko sounds...confused.  Bewildered.  Like her worry is so unfounded it’s surprising she even is worrying at all.

“You’re way cooler than that,” Wakko agrees.  “You’re smarter than me.”

“And you’re better at the physical jokes than me,” Yakko adds.

“I know,” She says, almost cheeky, but her mood refuses to lighten.  “But-I don’t know.  Iit’s not just that-I-I guess I miss doing stuff outside. Like songs.”

There’s a beat, and when she looks up, Yakko has a smile on his face that is nothing short of sly.

“Songs, you say?” He rubs in chin in thought.  “Wakko?”

“On it,” She watches as he pulls out instrument after instrument from his gag bag, until they practically have an orchestra.  Wakko also pulls out a conductor’s wand.

“Shall we, m’lady?” Yakko holds out his hand, and when she takes it, he pulls her to the middle of the room.  A spotlight lands on them, and the music starts.

“Her name is Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third,” He begins with a wink, “and no matter the situation or confrontation, she always gets the final word,” Yakko’s tenor is sugary sweet as he dances her around the room, and he passes her off to Wakko, who leaves the self playing instruments to their own devices.

“If you think you can beat her, just wait till ya meet her, cause you’ll realize that thought is absurd,” Wakko’s voice has a grovel from the accent, and he makes silly faces as they waltz, to make her giggle.

“Sure she’s cute,” Yakko starts.

“Quite the beaut,”

“But she’s got the strength of a brute!” They harmonize, and she pulls out her mallet.  She watches as they cringe away in fake terror, and she does a fake swing before tossing the mallet away.  “So watch out, because if you make yourself a target she’ll shoot!”

She watches them laugh at the end of the line, and they do fit each other, don’t they?  But they’re going out of their way to do this for her, and so what does it matter?  Being different and being special are the same, depending on how you phrase it, and they don’t mind her being different at all.

The music keeps going, the piano leading into verse two.

“Don’t make her mad, don’t make her sad, if you want to keep your limbs intact,” Yakko twirls her, and she imagines being at a fancy Ball or Gala, surrounded by admirers. 

“She’s got all modes of attraction, and kneejerk reactions, it’s all just simple fact,” Wakko takes her for a spin himself, his movements more wild and less controlled than Yakko’s more straightforward dancing, but she loves it anyway, and is almost remiss when he passes her back to Yakko.

“She always tries her best,” Yakko dips her, low enough that her ears nearly touch the floor, and her tail presses close to her back.

“To be better from the rest,” Wakko continues.

“Because we all want to reach for the stars!” Yakko throws her up and she poses mid air before he catches her with his shoulders, letting her sit there.  She can’t help but laugh at the whole thing.

“She’s Dot Warner,” Every time they go into unison, it’s perfect harmony, and she loves it.  Them.

“Our giggling sister,”

“Does she know how much we’d miss her?”

The music pauses, and they look to her patiently, to join the song, and for a moment she hesitates.  Because she’s never had such a ballad before.  What if her voice doesn’t sound right?  What if she messes it up?

But Yakko and Wakko are smiling at her, as if they know she’ll do it right, and you know what.  Screw it.

“I’m Dot Warner!” She shouts, and the belting note rings as she jumps up. “I’m no one’s former!” The music swells, and she stands on Yakko’s shoulders, triumphant.  “I’m sweet and I’m tough!”

“Always more than good enough!” Wakko and Yakko crow as back up.

“And I’m better than why I was drawn!” It’s like a warrior cry, like she’s daring the world to tell her different.

“She’s charming,” Yakko.

“And alarming,” Wakko.

“In every role I’m starring, no longer just the token girl!” She hops down from Yakko’s shoulder, taking center stage.  This is what she is.  The breaking of her own role, just as loud and proud and wild as her siblings, with a touch of cuteness that she loves.  Because hey, what’s wrong with being cute?

“With wit and sass,” Yakko and Wakko start to finish.

“I’m the highest of class,” She interjects, giggling.

“She’s the best of our two worlds!” They all come together, Dot in the middle, the boys kicking out their outside legs and gesturing outwards with one arm as the music plays them out, and when the music number is over all Dot can do is drag her brothers together into a hug.

“Thank you,” because she needed this.  A sense of normalcy, the constant reminder that she’s more.  She knows why she was drawn, but who cares?  She’s better than that.

She’s Dot Warner,  Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third, and she’s got her brothers behind her.  

And when she has them, nothing can stop her.

[alatismeni-theitsa]

One thing I love about your account is that you challenge all of what I thought being Greek meant. Like growing up, I always felt bad about myself because my skin was pale, and I was always told all Greeks have olive skin. I never liked my nose because I felt it didn’t look like what the media portrays Greek noses to look. Like even looking at my mom and papou’s noses, I just have a different one. I’ve always just been insecure, feeling like I could never look Greek enough.

Ya su! :D Big answer incoming, brace yourselves! 

From your question I understand you are a Greek of diaspora and your mother was a second generation Greek immigrant. I have received plenty of messages here from Greeks of diaspora who have told me “I am pale/I have blue eyes/I am blond and I don’t feel like a Greek!” Really, I should make a tag! It’s so strange how foreigners make us feel like we don’t belong in our own ethnicity! North Europeans and Americans make even us, who live in Greece feel like our heritage doesn’t belong to us! “You can’t possibly be the same!” they say. No, we are not the same. However we come from a long continuous line of people who tought the Greek heritage to their children for centuries. We speak the same language, we have many same traditions, we get inspired by the same nature. The antiquity doesn’t exist in a vacuum and it never stopped being a part of us. 

That’s why I encourage proper representation of Greeks, especially on American media, so false images stop being circulating. It’s not exactly racist what’s happening but it has resulted in many Greeks straight up being told “you don’t even look Greek, why you speak on Greek issues?” That enrages me EVERY.FUCKING.TIME.

Because to tell you the truth, Greeks couldn’t be further from the stereotype  “dark olive skin with curly black hair”! The majority, especially in the north, is pale, many times with big weird ass noses. 99% of us look white with the first guess. Of course there are some occasions where the stereotype is true (I don’t pretend there are no darker Greeks!) but those are rare. An American friend once saw a documentary about modern Athens and she was very surprised about how white we looked and asked herself “is this Germany??”

Even in the ancient art all over Greece we see pale/white people all over the place. I have been to museums all over the country and always seen them (where the colors are preserved) and I have posted some in my tag #ancient greek art as well. The Americans go “oh, those are fake because Greeks idolized white skin”. Sure, Jan, all Greeks all over the country made art with Caucasian white people because they were all in a secret white supremacy pact. Of course figures are beautified sometimes but it’s crazy to assume Greeks did everything in their power not to depict their own people accurately. I have this post (link) where I discuss that ancient Greeks weren’t that different from us today, with sources of studies showing our DNA hasn’t changed much. It’s to debunk the “ancient Greeks were darker than the modern ones”, which is used to depict our ancient gods and people very dark in modern art.

Foreigners also focus on the mixes with other people Greeks had in order to justify how we are dark. “But they are close to Africa sooo...” No. This argument doesn’t make much sense and people who use it know jack shit about our history and demographics and don’t have any common sense. It’s true though that mixes have played a part in our history and our appearance so it’s good to speak about those.

Greeks in the North (Athens and up) have mostly been mixing with Slavs and Germanic people because it’s easier for us to go to each other’s country by foot, and we just are close to each other. Plus, the history of the Balkans is very interesting and full of mixes and immigration! We also have mixed (I don’t know to what extent) with the Turks, who are Mongolic in nature and come north of Greece as well.   

People from the Peloponnise can be darker but still they look hella white (as I was told by Peloponnisian friends and as I have noticed myself). People in the south islands are more likely to have some Arab DNA but generally no one has observed that they look different than the rest of Greeks. (I haven’t seen it or heard it ever in my life. Other Greeks, correct me if I am wrong). You can’t tell which person comes from just by looking at them. 

Your struggle is understandable and I would like to give some suggestions to overcome it and be more comfortable in your own heritage. Perhaps you do some of these things anyway but there is no harm in listing them!

1) Search historically important Greeks and see their portraits. Seriously, do it! You may find yourself looking a little bit like them. You will surely have one thing common with them since they are usually pale :P Sometimes they may have non Greek names (Karlota, Suzanna, Emilia) but it was a trend for the rich families of the 19th century to give such names to children. I mean if you find a non-Greek name investigate if they are Greek or not because they actually might be. In my tag #Greek people you will find photos and portraits of Greeks from old times!

2) Read the history of Greece. All of it, not just from 300 BC to 100 AC as most foreigners do. Preferably, find works that have someone Greek as a writer or supervisor (because Greeks usually try to depict accuratelly what happened), or writers who truly feel Greece, like Richard Clogg. Read about Greek old allies and old enemies, about who we trade with, about where we immigrated, where we went to study to see what are the most likely mixes. Obviously, every kind of mix can happen but for numbers that matter you got to know the historical trends. It’s gonna be a journey that will help you feel your Greek side more and have answers ready when someone claims you don’t look Greek.   

3) Learn more Greek. The Greek language is logical but also stupid and funny, expressing the spirit of the people who made it. Learning Greek means learning how Greeks think. We have 20+ weird phrases to playfully say someone is gay, like “he flogs the dolphin”, “he shakes the pear tree” etc. We have phrases that stem from war and pirate raids and... hating the Turks, our colonizers :P We have many Mediterranean expressions like calling a mole “olive” or saying “I am in an open sea” (”πελάγωσα”) when we feel lost, or saying “he pressed my oil out” when someone tires us. I am very passionate about Greek so you can message me any time with any question about it! 

4) Learn where your family comes from. I mean the exact place/town, the geographical compartment. Learn the specific dances and traditional costume of that area from youtube videos or a Greek community in your area! See if the people in your area were great warriors, great merchants, great wine producers. See if there are any Greek heroes of the 1821 revolution coming from your place! Learn the song “Πώς το τρίβουν το πιπέρι” and the weird ass dance that comes with it, which Greek archeologists didn’t even hesitate to dance in a Mycenaic tomb!

5) Meet more Greeks! Through groups on insta or fb, through Tumblr blogs etc. Watch youtubers of Greek diaspora as “Greek in Town” or the comedian Basile! Maybe there is one Greek community near you area and you can pay a visit for festivals! 

6) Cook Greek food. If your grandparents and mum know recipes, take them as if they are gold. It’s a great way to get familiar with the local Greek ingredients and the Greek palette. Replace your soul with feta if you can xD 

7) Read Greek modern literature, even translated. Elitis, Sahtouris, Seferis, Venezis, Papadiamantis, Mirivilis, Delta, Empirikos, Zei, Kazantzakis are only a few of the literary gems Greeks have to offer. Enjoy good writing, the Greek perspective, and get to know the newer Greek society in a unique and authentic way. Here is a list with more of them (link).

8) Be proud. Be proud of a people who endured earthquakes, wars, genocide, famine, occypation, slaughters and slavery and can still stand. In every anniversary of ww1, ww2 and grecoturkic war, in our schools we sing prideful songs and hang posters with our war heroes, always standing proud. The students and the army parade in the streets, the small childrean wearing traditional costumes. Being proud is one key element of being Greek. 

Of course I don’t mean in a nationalistic/facist tone! We also celebrate the fall of the Greek junta of 1967 - which was financed by the US - and we are proud for it! And we fought German nazis. So no such ideology is welcome. Because we have so many things to be proud of (such long history!) foreigners equate our pride with nationalism. That is not the case for a healthy Greek mind who knows Greek history.

Ok, that’s all! Thank you for making it this far and reading what I had to say! I wish you a great cultural journey and I remind you that my DMs and Asks are open if you ever need anything! 

[thehappymessproject]

86-87/100 - 5 questions that help me learn from the past and make the future better

So many of us hate going back to their past, often feeling too judgemental, ashamed, sad, bored or anxious when they do. So many others dwell into the past and their nostalgia, grief, and blame so much that they feel stuck. For some of us, it seems more like a ping pong between the two, none of it feeling helpful. 

As often, a balance between two tendencies is always far better for us than any extreme here. 

I wrote the other day about making endings meaningful and what I planned on doing for the end of my challenge. Since then, I reread 20 of my essays in a couple of sittings, as promised to myself. 

To make my journeys to the past more meaningful, I use a few questions, usually the same ones. I like having this container, because it helps to not only do what I would do automatically, or because it’s comfortable. I want to get the most out of my past, so I need to do it in a braver way. 

What do I feel when going back? 

All of it. Not just the good stuff, or just the bad stuff. Definitely not working on what I think about, which is a trap here, a gateway drug to rumination. If we know how we feel, and put words on it, we can use the information at the heart of the emotions. 

I am getting all sorts of feelings from doing this. 

It’s endearing to read me struggle, I can see my inner writer shy but fierce, empowered by this brave move and excited by the newness of the challenge. It’s also awkward, I feel clumsy. 

My perfectionism doesn’t enjoy at all spotting all the ways I made mistakes, or wrote too heavily. Sometimes I get bored, and feel ashamed that my own writing bores me, certain that it can only be even more dull to others. 

I’m surprised by how much I subtly progressed. I could not know that without going back. So I also feel grateful. 

I’m touched and delighted by the joy and playfulness that show through most texts.

What am I learning or remembering about myself by going back? 

When we go back to the past (through our art, journaling, anything that is a piece of our life back then), we have the opportunity to look more at the big picture and our process. We see ourselves from another point of view, a little bit as if we were a different person, with more experience and wisdom.

I realise often that way (and here) that am stronger than I feel now. 

In those earlier essays, there is also a willingness to open myself up coming from the pain I am feeling. A tenderness I often avoid otherwise. I let myself be needier and show more of my fragility when I am really struggling. When I do, a softer, more loving and trustful side of me takes the lead. 

The post that had the most engagement is one of the most vulnerable ones and was written on the worst day for me emotionally. That was (and still is) a big surprise. 

I really love both story telling and educating. I enjoy more my writing when both are woven in the same essay. I also love having a few formats (like my letters to my inner child or my lists) to play with. 

What would I love to change?

What we would like the most to change is often what we love the least as is. This is important information, don’t dismiss it. By transforming it into what we would like to change makes it more actionable. We need to feel hopeful and empowered to not get sucked into self-deprecation or hate.

Here for me, it’s more about my writing style, heavier at the beginning of the challenge, messier too. A bit too precocious to my taste. I don’t love when either the story telling or the educating is too present. I’d like to keep it more balanced.

I don’t enjoy the way my writing feels too constricted sometimes, I can feel how I am not talking up as much space as I’d like to. I’d like to keep it more loose.

My message is sometimes not very clear. I remember that I struggled with that when I give up journaling temporarily. When I do, my mind always gets more foggy and tangled up. I’m happy about the reminder, especially when journaling was getting a bit difficult again lately.

What would I love to keep cultivating?

This is in general what we love the most about what we see or what we loved the most at the time and miss in the present. Also crucial information about the things that make us happy. We need to repeat the goodness in order to create a more fulfilling life.

I really love the softness and tenderness of Sad me. I love the relationship we created and that I allow now when she is more in need and we force to take our time, honour our pace. I want more of that and will pay more attention to it, especially in the better parts, when it doesn’t feel as necessary. 

The playfulness of my writing is good companion to that softness. I miss it lately. “Coincidentally”, there’s less playfulness in my life right now. I have paid more attention to it very recently and can already feel the difference, just by allowing myself to be playful with words, or by painting  anything I want.

I can also read and feel how the newness lets me freer than I feel right now, when I am under the impression of repeating myself already. 

It reminds me of my painting process : when I allow myself to go back to old work and redo a piece I loved a long time ago, I am always delighted by the surprise of how there’s no such thing as a true repeat. How a self-remake can truly beautify a piece in a new way. 

And it’s also my favourite way to help me be braver and take my painting skills to the next level by being easier to tackle than something I have never done before. I think I am also going to translate that to writing in some way. 

What did this bring to my life that is important or precious to me?

My favourite take-away from that challenge so far is how much I love writing everyday about things that matter to me. I wasn’t sure that I had it in me to be honest. I never wrote with that much commitment, even if I dreamt about it. This is a huge deal for me. It is the start of me really taking my writing seriously. I know now that I want to keep it that way, and that I can make it happen.

For the first time ever, I am allowing myself to make a lot of things, and share them with the world, without taking millions of classes to teach me how to do it right. It was fascinating to still feel that I am progressing every time I sit down and write. It might not be obvious to everyone reading me, but I can feel it inside. 

Being a good student was an important part of my identity for a long time. That requires a lot of learning from the masters. Doing this my way, and choosing how I would do it was extraordinarily encouraging. I can wait to see what is forward from there. Especially since I am starting to take a few classes now, to work with my writing on enhancing it (rather than allowing it). 

Finally, I am beyond happy to discover that I don’t have to choose between painting and writing. I love both very much. I could feel before that I couldn’t be fulfilled creatively without writing. But during the challenge, I discovered as well that writing a lot, even things I love, without painting, made me sad and my writing constricted, to controlled. I am delighted to realise both are perfectly complementary companions.  

By asking ourselves those questions regularly about many things (relationships, jobs, projects...), especially when they end, we can make sure to make them more special and meaningful. We can help ourselves make better choices, more informed and aligned with our core values in the future. We can learn to not repeat the past when it’s hurtful, and to repeat some of it when it’s helpful. 

I hope this will help anyone passing by who needs some nurturing and help going through a painful ending.

Speak soon,  Love,  L. 

[fengshuiblogs]

Home Staging With Feng Shui by Kartar Diamond

cre: Home Staging With Feng Shui by Kartar Diamond

Photo by Marc McCammon.

Staging a home, to help sell it faster, can be achieved by showcasing the home’s aesthetic potential, its functionality, and even selling a “lifestyle” that comes with the home.

Corn there is a whole other level in which a house can also be staged, and that is by using the ancient metaphysical practice known as feng shui. Feng shui is a predictive art, based on the natural sciences. This is a more than 3000 year old Chinese tradition that explores how people are affected by their immediate indoor and outdoor environment.

A home’s influence on its occupants can include financial potential, relationship circumstances, and specific health issues. Often, potential buyers will experience the “feng shui” of a house consciously or unconsciously as part of their decision to buy or transfer property.

What makes a home more welcoming, attractive, peaceful, or capable of evoking feelings of security and happiness? For years, real estate agents have shown homes by burning scented candles and baking cookies. They can also play music during open houses and provide fresh flowers to give potential buyers a feel for the home’s ambiance for entertaining. Professional interior designers and directors can decorate a home with colors and furniture to help people imagine how beautiful the house can be and to display its architectural personality.

But is there something deeper? Feng shui answers this question, when we value a house at a very sophisticated level. In this vast body of knowledge, we have homes that can be characterized as inherently encouraging or compromising financial luck.

Homes like these might need interior and exterior remedies. The ripple effect is that if a house is upgraded to make money, it can help sellers get more deals, sometimes even when they are no longer living in the house! People can and do capture the energies of a home that has been balanced with the principles of feng shui. Houses can also be characterized as being good or bad for the health and relationships of the occupants.. Likewise, these spaces can be filled in a subtle and unobtrusive way, so that buyers can also get a feel for the home’s balance.

As a full time feng shui consultant, I am regularly involved in home sales, representing both buyers and sellers. Sometimes I find myself making the same recommendations that a professional real estate agent, designer, or planner might make to simplify and beautify a home’s visual appeal. But my main menu involves the classic feng shui theory which is not obvious to the untrained eye. Some remedies don’t even need to be seen in a room, but could be hidden in a closet and still have the same effect!

For example, some rooms in a house need a metallic element, and the metal can be anything from copper, brass, bronze, iron, gold, silver, or steel. If a room was staged, it would be very easy to use metal incorporated into the furniture, such as a brass bed frame or a wrought iron coffee table leg. But it would also be okay to hide a hundred pounds of iron weight in a closet if it was in the right area requiring metal. Metal is often used for spaces that have been diagnosed as being able to cause arguments, accidents, illness or depression..

How do you know if a part needs metal? In classical feng shui, we calculate the energy footprint of a house based on its date of construction, combined with the precise direction of the house, using a compass.. Plus, the uniqueness of the floor plan will reveal which rooms need certain items. In feng shui theory, we have five elements: water, wood, fire, earth, and metal. They are each used very strategically.

Another example could be the use of an indoor or outdoor water feature, such as a fountain. Some homes need water all the time to create a balance, while others may only need water for a specified period of time. Who would say that a beautiful fountain can have conscious appeal, even if its main purpose is not obvious?

Time and time again, I have found that when a seller still lives in their home while they are on the market, I can suggest subtle decorating additions that will improve their money luck and result in a bigger sale. fast from home. If the seller has already moved, it is always practical to make repairs on the house so that potential buyers will subconsciously sense the balance that has been struck. And for this reason, Feng Shui and Home staging complement each other perfectly.

For more information on the use of Feng Shui in the process of selling or buying a house, I have the ebook, Feng Shui tips for real estate agents. It’s also good read for both buyer and seller!

Author: Kartar Diamond Company: Feng Shui Solutions (R) From the Architecture & Design series

source: fengshuiblogs.com -

from fengshuiblogs.com https://ift.tt/3C55Y8W via fengshuiblogs.com

[niamh222]

conecting…

I’m thinking of making this keyboard my new diary. It’s kinda more flow state like to be able to really get thoughts out as i think them. Also not having to worry about spelling is freeing.

Therapy today was really enlightening, i feel like every session helps me so significantly, and i understand myself so much more each session. This session we talked a lot about trying to predict and anticipate peoples emotions. I recalled how distressed i felt when i had to face someone feeling negative emotions, the conflict between being compassionate and ensuring they didnt get upset was me trying to control their feelings. This need to know what people are thinking and how they might react, coupled with feeling a responsibility to ensure people are happy and not feeling any bad emotions- that is what causes he discomfort and anxiety. The feeling that people dislike me is often linked to the idea that i am doing something wrong that will be disrespectful or rude, this is me feeling like i am unable to predict their emotions that is causing discomfort

THIS IS WHY I DONT MAKE LOTS OF NEW DIFFERENT FRIENDS! becuase most new people are hard to predict and this makes me uncomfortable and jump to the worst possible conclusion. I guess the bottom line of all this is feeling inadequate, low self essteem- feeling that i’m unable to help people or anticipated their needs. For me, walking on eggshells and anticipating a persons every move to ensure they feel no discomfort is a problematic way i show care. When this doesn’t work and people become upset, i blame myself for not creating the perfect environment for them not to feel sad. It’s like taking peoples emotions personally to the extreme.

My fish tank is full of algae and i need to clean it. It’s bad for the fishes. I just haven’t gotten roland to it- recently ive been more and more swamped with university work and wok work. It’s like i need to step up my productivity game a bit. I’m taking it very very easy on myself to reduce anxiety and discomfort- it’s working great, i hardly feel anxious and all my sadness is coming from normal things . This is at the detriment of my workload tho, it’s suffering with all the patience i have for myself.

I have lectures to watch, i think i have four tommmorow, i need to finish all my lectures tommorow so i’m ready for my full two days on friday and saturday . Level three changed work hours and were back open on sunday RIP i was loving the reduced level 4 hours. I wonder how ill cope in level 2 ngl, like its so chill rn, i know ill adapt to it but still i dont want to loose this increasingly mental health routine ive got going .

I think a goal is to read more, i want to do a 14 day reading streak- it shouldn’t be too hard, ive got a five minutes a day timer, its great becuase its just enough time to if ur out if i wanna keep reading or not. 14 days is a good amount of time too, I want to get back on the affirmation gratitude diary shit as well, that was really good and made me feel so much happier- its been a good break to get me more grounded with some of my diasadvantages but i’m ready to work on them again now. The affirmations have been really good tho, ive been doing them everyday sometimes even twice, it REALY helps with positive thinking. I also genuinely think its one of the only ways to get to your core beliefs without changing your environment. Like- ideally i’d move out and live with a group of people who respect and love me and that would naturally raise my self essteem- but i think that this i the best i can get while still living with my folks .

I also think self love in discipline is SO true and ive been really feelin it recently.

Fuck you know what, this lady fucking died on the magic mountain- she want missing today and they found her body this afternooon. It makes me sick to my stomach, i want to vomit when i think about it. I hope her family is doing okay. It’s just insane because i walk up that mountains all te time, and a few days ago i went up there at night nighttime, and someone has died there. It’s a graveyard now and i’m worried that its going to be really hard for me to go back up there and enjoy the beautify up magic of the mountain. I think i might have to buy flowers to calm the spirits and cleanse the place, i mighty do that acctually, create a little flower shrine for her spirit. Fuck muan its scary though- i just hope its natural causes but you cant hep it- you cant help jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

I’m hoping for level 2 when i can get out of the neighbourhood, i’m getting really restless in the same place over and over every single day- i need a change of scene art. It’s raining tonight and i’m listening to te clash.

HEE IS A MAN WHO WILLL NOT TAKE IT ANYMORE not even bobby’s bickialling could stop the blood and —-

Yeah i bet you are. Hang in there You save the girl champaign on ice.

gn lovelies- i know i have to post better content than unedited diary entries but no, i’m just gonna post this an hope i get rich and famous and soon eeee by audible or glamneric lashes

this keyboard is the best purchase i have ever made my brain will proberbly e empty ina few weeks tho. spewing my thoughts out onto the clicky buttons like a digital therapist. gn babies 😚💓

[2021laxteentour]

Day Two (Volunteering on Skid Row)

Going to Skid Row was very eye opening to me because it showed me how your decisions can but you in a dangerous and deadly place. It also showed me how good I have it as a person due to me realizing my acres to food, toiletries, bed, and much more. Going to USC gave me a chance to have my very first college visit and it didn’t disappoint. I was shocked by the huge size and added a option to my college list. Going to Venice beach was fun it showed me many different types of people and talents. Which was extremely exciting and fun. -Paris B.

Today I learned so many new things. I am so glad that we started out the day with helping others. Skid Row was a completely different experience that I had never seen before. The most important thing that the Skid Row taught me was that they aren’t bad people they just made some bad decisions. When I talked to some of the people and went around the community that statement made so much sense. I also got to view the Hollywood sign which was amazing. I also really enjoyed Venice and Santa Monica; it reminded me so much of a carnival or an amusement park. One of the most beautiful parts was the canal that was similar to Venice Italy. -Ariyana L.

Today was another exciting new adventure. Helping those on skid row was the most gratifying experiences of the entire trip. Being able to serve others on the first official Juneteenth holiday is what it’s all about. I was also overjoyed to see the big smile on my daughter’s face when we were able to visit USC college campus and she was able to see their state of the art aquatic center. She has been swimming competitively since she was 6 years old. For her to see what she has always dreamed to visit come to life was awesome! Thanks for helping us make those memories! -Stephanie L.

Today was filled with a lot of different fun activities. Besides the fun activities, starting the morning off with community service was emotional as it opened the eyes of what reality for some people really is. Previously I have done community service but this one was different. Although it was hard to see, it warmed my heart to see the community coming together once again to make a difference. Whether it was cutting or doing hair, picking up trash or providing meals and water. I truly left thankful. The college visit at USC was interesting and fun. I was amazed that the campus had an amazon, target and an apple store. We then moved to Venice beach, and I found it relaxing and had some of the best burgers! And it was cool to see that they had a lot of activities surrounding it like: basketball and tennis courts, skate park, eateries, shops and cool surfing spots.  Learned some knew things ending the night at the Santa Monica Pier and was cool too with the atmosphere it provided. It’s been awhile attending a carnival style setting since Covid arrived. Overall, this was a fun experience but also an eye opener. Once again, I’m thankful. -Morgan F.

Today will definitely go down in history! WECCAAN volunteered on Juneteenth , which is now a new recognized holiday! We cleaned Skid Row and interacted with the locals, which I say was very rewarding and the highlight of my day. We made a quick visit to USC which had a beautiful campus,  what I loved about visiting the campus is having one of the teens stare, take pictures and take mental notes of the size of the Olympic pool that was on campus.  Talking with this young lady and seeing that this campus might be a perfect fit when she finishes high school. This type of discussion,  interaction and visitation to a campus for our teens makes the trip extra rewarding and fulfilling. Traffic was busy for it being a weekend, but that didn't stop us from making a stop in Hollywood and taking a great group picture of the Hollywood sign that I almost see in lots of movies. Our day continued with a great bite to eat and people watching for sure at the infamous Venice beach. We had the opportunity to soak our feet and enjoy the beautiful breeze and most definitely get in some quality time and fellowship with new and old WeCCAN members. -Rania A.

Today is Juneteenth and we volunteered by picking up trash on Skid Row. Despite the luxurious parts of California, Skid Row has the highest homeless rate in California. I also saw a lot of tents on the streets & then we met a homeless man who had his own face on a wall mural. Afterwards, a man talked to us & he told his story about being homeless himself to owning a restaurant. This reminds me of my mother's stage play called "The Stranger". It is about a black man who loses his job & family. Then he becomes homeless & a woman finds interest in him. Then she encourages him to get back on his feet. The message of the story is once you fall, you must rise up. Meanwhile, we went to Rose Park & I learned that Jackie Robinson was a football player. Lastly, we went to Venice Beach & Santa Monica. -Tiffany W.

 I started my journey today by going to Skid Row and beautifying their community. I took my 1st trip to the Staples Center where I was able to take pictures with famous L.A Basketball players. We also went to the Rose Bowl Stadium for a restroom break and a workout. We then went to USC to look around the outside of the college. Then we went to Venice Beach, also known as Muscle Beach there we ate food from 2 taco places. Our last stop we went to the Santa Monica pier as we walked onto the boardwalk bridge looking at the oceanfront and the attractions at the pier, we then used the restrooms, and bought us some slushies. Today I had a great experience and hope to have more opportunities to share on the WECCAAN/ SeeAndServe service tours. -Darius W.

Today was truly a great experience, not just connecting with the group but for also the beautiful places we visited today. When we helped pick up the trash around the homeless it really opened my eyes to how truly I’m blessed and how I even live. That man that gave that speech really inspired me to believe in myself that anything is possible and dreams come true! Once again the beach was full of fun and laughter and relaxation to end the day off with. I’ve truly enjoyed my time here with this group in California ! -Ashleigh F.

Today we started bright an early but we started the day right with chicken biscuits courtesy of Dr Mike. Hunger satiated we hoped in the vehicles and headed to Skid Row. When we arrived there were parts of streets that had already been cleaned by other volunteers. I'm very inspired by this, there are more of us trying to make a difference in the world by serving the most vulnerable and ostracized of our community; people just like you and me, who are experiencing homelessness at this stage in their life. We walked up and down the streets whose sidewalks were lined with makeshift tents and shelters for the people living there. While every eye ogled at us out of curiosity; a few residents thanked us for being there. It was a stark reminder to have gratitude for the things in my life that I sometimes take for granted. I'm grateful for this experience and to see the emotions provoked in the young volunteers who are seeing homelessness up close and personal. Looking forward to tomorrow. -Giovan B.

This morning starting with a light breakfast. The volunteer site for this service learning trip was Skid Row. We had the opportunity to help to beautify the street that the people call home. Most people will not take the time to help the homeless. Those streets are dangerous. The homeless people are just surviving not leaving. It was very inspiring to hear Kevin Call story. When the odds are against you can overcome. The tour was a true at the right time. I enjoyed spending time with my once a year family. -Pamela G.

It's the 1st day Juneteenth is being considered as a national holiday and I'm up to volunteer my services. Dropped off on a 600 block of one of several streets in the community of Skid Row. As stories have unfolded about this community, I'm blessed to say I was dropped off to render services but not there to stay as some often do. Picking up the many piles of trash, to some those are considered to be their hidden treasures so be careful and observant as well as mindful for this is their home. It felt great being able to give complements as we stroll through, as I know a kind gesture will take you farther than condemning. We met Kevin Call who was once a product of the environment but has turned his life around and now he's rendering to the needs of this community. I think that's Awesome and very Inspirational to share this form of love! Strolling through making plenty of stops to monumental locations. Next up would be the Staples Center a place where I have never been. Seeing the nicely placed statues of Erving "Magic" Johnson, Shaquille O'neal, Oscar De La Hoyas, and Wayne Gritzskey all known for doing great things in the world of sports. I captured those moments by taking photos with my SunShines. On to the site of the art museum and there you will see beautiful architecture. Grabbing the fresh cut fruit from a family stand was a refreshing feeling to receive after the servicing, closest thing to water. Walked the campus of USC had one of my sons to look up facts about the school. Found out they're a D1 school in the athletic department, seen their lovely pool then snapped a few photos. Cool breeze from the site of Venice beach, known to some as "Muscle Beach". Many souvenir venues along the walk so I took to making a few purchases as we searched for some much needed food. Quenching my thirst with some cinnamon toast flavored rice milk, how refreshing. From here to the Santa Monica Pier, the calm ocean waters were making nice waves. My son would make the comment of it feels like its about to rain, due to the shores mist splashing in the air over the bridge. So many people out and enjoying the festivities around us, seems as the pandemic is ceased for their moments. For me it's still surreal so strolling through with my mask on and viewing these lovely places of California.  Overall I enjoyed my entire day and although I missed the beautiful parade in my city, I was able to parade in another city by giving service on the 1st official holiday of Juneteenth! -Tia J.

[miraculoussideblog]

Rice To Meet You

Hello all! For Valentine’s Day the ChloNath Discord server hosted a Bee My Valentine exchange. My gift is for @therosecat8

Summery: When Chloe Bourgois’ long time crush and date to the Valentine's Day Ball cancels on her at the last minute, an unexpected encounter with the handsome artist named Nathaniel gives her an idea: shape him into the perfect high class date. As the two spend more time together preparing for the ball, Chloe finds herself drawn to Nathaniel. But old feelings are hard to shake and Chloe must decide: fall back into old habits or take the risk with someone new.

Read on AO3

“I’m sorry Chloe, something came up and I can’t go to the ball tonight.”

“What?” Chloe Bourgeois sat down on the edge of the fountain. Walking to the park to clear her head in the morning was supposed to be relaxing. Having her Valentine’s Day date bail on her the day of was the opposite of relaxing. She took a few deep breaths and tried not to sound disappointed. “Is everything okay?”

“No, everything’s fine.” Alexandre said. “My boss wants me to meet with some new clients and we’re all having dinner tonight. I can’t get out of it. You know how much I want to make partner before I’m thirty?”

“I know,” she muttered.  

While Alexandre Laurent was not her boyfriend, he was the son of one of her father’s politician friends. Their relationship would benefit their families tremendously. The only problem was, Chloe fell head over heels with him, while Alexandre had a playboy reputation and never gave her the time of day. She hated how she followed him around like a lost puppy, but every time she saw him she would get lost in his hazel eyes and forget how to speak.  

She thought she would be able to tell him how she felt at the Valentine’s Day ball. He already knew, but this time was different. They were two years out of university and ripe for marrying. Their parents were already pushing them together, it was only matter of time before he caved. He just needed a little persuasion.

“It’s fine,” she sighed. She’ll have to charm him some other time. “But you have to make it up to me. Dinner next weekend.”

Alexandre sucked in a breath. “Ah, dinner is not good for me. How about lunch?”

Damn. Dinner was romantic. Lunch was where you take your friends. Oh well. Chloe appreciated any alone time with Alexandre.

“Lunch is fine.”

“Great Lunch next Sunday. There is a new Bistro that opened downtown. I’ll text you the address. I got to go now. Bye.” He hung up before she could say goodbye.

Chloe sighed.

She had to get used to disappointments. Alexandre had goals and aspirations and right now she didn’t fit in quite yet, but soon. She had to be patient.

Chloe stood up.

“Watch out!” Someone shouted.

Before she could process what was happening, a football came hurtling at Chloe. She blocked the ball with her forearm, but the impact knocked her phone out of her hand.

“My new phone!” She screamed as the expensive device plopped into the fountain. She just bought the phone and the shiny gold case yesterday. It would take ages to extract information from a damaged phone. She needed to get it out now, but the phone was too far out for her to reach. There was no way she was stepping in the gross unfiltered water.

No date. No phone. No hope.

This was not her day.

“Need help?” Someone said from behind.

“Yes, please hurry.” Chloe turned around. A tall man stood behind her and began to take off his shoes. His long red hair was pulled into a low ponytail that fell over this shoulder. When he successfully removed his socks he looked up at her, and their gazes locked for a second. His eyes were a beautiful mix of blue and green, almost like the ocean. She wanted to stare at them longer, but the man walked passed her and stepped into the fountain.

He rolled up his sleeves and wadded his hands in the water until he pulled up her phone. He quickly got out of the fountain and handed Chloe her soaked phone. “It’s freezing in there. Why is the fountain on in February?” Chloe was too preoccupied with her phone to answer. It was still on, she rubbed it dry with her coat. “You need to turn it off and put in in a bag of rice for twenty-four hours.” The Man said.

Chloe looked up. “Oh okay,” she shut off her phone. She had to find a store. She had no idea where to even look for rice. She never stepped foot in a grocery store.

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh yes, thank you. You’re a lifesaver. Do you know where I can find rice?”

“Are you joking?”

“I don’t shop.” she gave him a puzzled look. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Chloe Bourgeois? Daughter of the Mayor and Heiress to Le Grand Paris Hotel? You must have heard of me.”

The man gasped. “Oh my, I had no idea I was in the presence of royalty.” He bowed. “I am but a lowly artist. Please forgive my transgressions, your majesty.”

“You’re an ass.”

The man chuckled. “Sometimes I can’t help it,” he shrugged. “But in all seriousness, you need to get your phone in some rice asap before it dries. I’ll walk you to the store.” He started moving, Chloe followed.

“Thank you,” she muttered. How was she going to survive twenty-four hours without her phone? Especially on the night of the Valentine's Day Ball. She wasn’t supposed to stress today. Her assistants had everything covered before the final walk through this evening. Still, she couldn’t take selfies or tweet about how much fun she was having to make Alexandre jealous.

She glanced over at the man next to her. He wasn’t too bad looking. With a haircut and a nice suit, he could easily pass as upper class. If the press sees them together at the event, she could use it to her advantage.

“I never got your name.”

“I didn’t give it to you,” he said. He pause for a second before speaking again. “It’s Nathaniel.”

“Well, Nathaniel do you want to grab cup of coffee after this. My treat. It’s to thank you for retrieving my phone.”

“Sure,” he said. “I don’t have much to do today.”

“Great.”

At the store, Nathaniel helped Chloe pick out a bag of rice and some ziplock bags. After purchasing, they quickly disassembled the phone on the counter and put in the bag of rice.

“Disconnected for twenty-four hours,” Chloe sighed. “This will be tough.” She had the rest of the day off to prep herself for the ball, but she still wanted to check in at least once before the guest arrived.

“You can do it,” Nathaniel mustered up false enthusiasm. “It will be fine, I’ve dropped my phone in water plenty of times.”

Chloe put the bag of rice in her purse for safekeeping and prayed that it did not spill open. “Okay, coffee. I know just the place.”

Chloe led Nathaniel to her favorite coffee spot a few block away. He wasn’t much of a talker. When he did, however, his tone was always laced with sarcasm. It will take some convincing to get him to be her date for tonight. Hopefully, they would survive the evening without too much drama.

When they finally arrived at the cafe Chloe ordered her usual soy latte and Nathaniel ordered an espresso. They sat across the table from each other silently for a few minutes. The espresso was tiny, if Chloe didn’t ask him now, she would lose her chance.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Another one?” Nathaniel sipped his coffee. “I can only drink one espresso a day.”  

“No, it’s a little bigger than a free espresso.” Chloe took a deep breath. “There is a charity ball tonight at the hotel and my date bailed on me at the last minute. If you’re free tonight, would you like to be my plus one?”

Nathaniel stared at her blankly. “You just met me.”

“I know, and I’m asking a lot from the guy who saved my phone. But please, I cannot go to this ball alone. Please.”

Nathaniel took another sip of his drink. “What’s in it for me?”

“I will pay for everything, the suit, stylist and I already have two tickets.”

“Not to sound greedy, but all of that seems like it’s part of a packaged deal. It will benefit you more than me. I’m going to need something else.”

Chloe thought for a moment. She could offer to pay him, but he didn’t seem the type to pimp himself out for the night for profit. If she to seal the deal, she had to come up with something that fit his interest.

“You said you were an artist right?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“How about I commission a piece from you. A self-portrait or something.”

Nathaniel thought for a moment. His eyes lit up. “A self-portrait? I can do that. I’m strapped for cash at the moment. Art school debt. It will give me something to do.”

“Do we have a deal.”

“We have a deal.” They shook hands. Chloe examined his fingers. His nails were chipped and paint lived in between his cuticle.

“Okay, the first thing we're doing is getting you a manicure. Yikes. How long has that paint been there?” Nathaniel shrugged. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“Is this going to be like one of those movies where the main character gives someone a makeover and all of a sudden when you take off their glasses they magically become hot.”

“You’re not wearing glasses.”

“That’s beside the point.” Nathaniel finished the last sip of his espresso. “All right Chloe beautify me.”

“I thought you’d hate this more.”

“Like I said, you don’t know me.”

“Uh, Chloe?” Nathaniel called out from the fitting room. “I’m not sure about this one either. Does it have to be black?”

“It’s a tuxedo Nathaniel, they’re all black.”

Chloe and Nathaniel spent the last two hours together preparing him for the ball. Chloe knew she would have to cut her prep time short to get Nathaniel everything he needed. Once he had his tux, she will drop him off at the salon. Then she’d go home to her team of stylist to get ready herself. The plan was foolproof. Nathaniel was pretty easy going for the most part. Well almost.

“I feel like I need a pop of color or something.” Nathaniel stepped out of the fitting room adjusting his tie. This tux didn’t quite fit him either. The last tux was too large and this one was by about an inch and a half. It was too late for him to get anything tailor-made.

Chloe turned to the attendant. “We’re out of options. Is there any way we can get the last one hemmed before six o’clock tonight?”

“We can,” the attendant nodded.

“What about a baby blue tie?”

“It’s a black tie event.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Get back in there and put the last suit back on.”

“Fine,” he huffed.

“Can you stop by Le Grand Paris Hotel with the suit when you’re done.” She asked the attendant.

“No,” Nathaniel called out. “Bring it to my place. I want to go home to change.”

“Booking you a room to get ready is not a problem,” Chloe said.

“I know what you’re thinking. You don’t want this down on his luck artist walking out with a thousand Euros suit.”

“That’s not true.”

“Okay, then trust me to get ready at home. What time does the ball start?”

“Eight o’clock.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at eight.” Nathaniel stepped out of the fitting room. The attendant began to pin the bottom of his suit. “So tell me about the dickweed who bailed on you on Valentines Day. He’s not your boyfriend right? I don’t want to ruin the new suit with blood in case he shows up and decks me.”

“Not my boyfriend,” she sighed. “We were introduced as teenagers. I finally got over my infatuation with Adrien Agreste only to for Alexandre to waltz into my life and take away all of my common sense. We never kissed or anything like that. We just hung out when he came to Paris for an event or when our fathers had meetings. He’s a lawyer now and he’s meeting with clients tonight. That’s why he bailed.”

“Well, that’s shitty.”

“What?”

“If I had a beautiful woman fawning over me since I was a teenager, I wouldn’t string her along.”

“I’m not being strung along…”

“How many relationships have you been in?”

Chloe didn’t answer. She’d been on a few dates here and there, but she always compared the men to Alexandre and she would never get past the second date. “That’s none of your business.”

“My point is if I had you in my life I wouldn’t let you go,” Nathaniel said sincerely. His eyes were locked on hers.

Chloe’s heart fluttered. No one has ever talked to her like that before. She was so used to being used by men, she forgot what being appreciated felt like. Alexandre would never say things like that to her.

“All done,” the attendant said. “Take the tux off and we’ll have it back to you by six. I just need your address.”

“Of course,” he nodded, breaking his eye contact with Chloe. He slipped back in the fitting room one last time.

“Would you like me to ring you up?” The attendant asked.

Chloe snapped out of her haze. “Uh yeah. Let’s do that.”

Chloe paid for the tux and patiently waited for Nathaniel to finish dressing. Why was this stranger making her heart pound in her chest? Once she broke through his sarcastic exterior he was really funny and genuine. It was hard to find genuine guys when you’re an heiress to a multimillion Euro fortune. Adrien was the exception, but his heart belonged to a baker’s daughter. He made that very clear a long time ago and she accepted it.

“I’m ready,” Nathaniel said. He was back in his normal clothes. She missed the tux, but something about him still warmed her heart.

“Great, the last stop will be the salon. You need a haircut.”

“I like my hair.” Nathaniel took hold of his ponytail.

“Talk to the stylist about it. You have a lot of split ends and paint stuck in there. I need you to look sharp for the ball tonight. I have to get back to the hotel soon. I’ll drop you off and pay for the appointment. Meet me back at the hotel at eight o’clock sharp.”

“Of course, your majesty.” He bowed.

Chloe sat for hours in the chair getting her hair and makeup ready for the event. Without her phone, she couldn’t check in on Nathaniel and she was getting anxious. They managed to walk into a salon without an appointment, but Nathaniel had to wait an hour to be seen. She silently prayed he didn’t abandon her.

Finally, the last curl was placed and her lips were a glossy light pink. She looked in the mirror. She looked amazing as always. “Nathaniel’s going to love this.”

“Who’s Nathaniel?” Her makeup artist asked.

“Oh,” she hadn’t realized she said that out loud. “He’s a friend. That’s all. He’s filling in for Alexandre, who couldn’t make it tonight. Just filling in.”

“Okay,” she gave her a once over. “Have a good time with ‘Nathaniel.’”  

Chloe rolled her eyes and headed for her bedroom to change. She slipped on her new canary yellow mermaid dress. She found the dress months ago at Gabriel’s and fell in love. She began to picture walking into the ball with Nathaniel in a matching yellow tie and pocket square.

No.

Why was she thinking about Nathaniel like that? She barely knew the guy. Tonight was about getting seen and making Alexandre jealous.

Chloe zipped up and her stylist put the finishing touches on her look. At eight o’clock on the dot, there was a knock on the door.

“He’s here.” Chloe took one more look in the mirror before rushing to the door.

Perfect.

Chloe opened the door, her breath caught in her chest. Nathaniel cleaned up nicely. His long red hair was now cut to his neck and slicked back. The off the rack tux fit much better than earlier.

“I told you I showed,” he smiled.

“That you did.” She glanced down at the small box in his hands. “What’s that?”

“A present.” He opened the box and removed a beautiful red rose corsage. “I didn’t know what color your dress was, and roses seem to go with everything.”

“It’s perfect thank you.” She held out her hand and Nathaniel slipped it on her wrist. “I thought you were strapped for cash?”

“I have a commission coming in so…”

“Oh right, I should get your contact information.But I don’t have my phone.

“Not to worry.” Nathaniel pulled out his wallet and handed her a business card.

“How professional.”

“I may or may not be planning on networking while I’m here.”

“You better be good, my reputation is on the line.” She put the business card on the side table. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” They linked arms and headed downstairs to the ballroom.

The hotel was packed with beautiful guest and photographers taking photos of their every move. Chloe interested Nathaniel on how to navigate through the crowd. Nathaniel was a natural. He introduced himself to the guest with a strong demeanor. If she didn’t know any better she’d say he’d done this before.

“You’re doing great,” Chloe whispered.

“Thanks, I’m the king of sucking up to old rich people. I cleaned out my relatives at my bar mitzvah.”

He was Jewish. She had no idea. He didn’t talk too much about himself today. Maybe after this, they could hang out again. Commissioning a self-portrait would give them an excuse to see each other again.

“What’s your last name?”

“Kurtzberg,” he answered. “It’s on my business card.”

Chloe hit his arm playfully. “Come on, I’m starving let’s grab some hors d’oevres.”

“What is everyone raising money for?”

“The Children’s Hospital,” Chloe said. “Tickets were a grand a piece and there is a silent auction.”

“You paid two grand for tickets?”

“It’s for charity. Everybody who is anybody is here. Besides, I got in for free because I helped organize the event.”

“Wait what?”

“What? You thought I didn’t have a job, how cute. It seems like you underestimated me.”

“That I did, and I am truly sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” she smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I was a spoilt brat in my youth and I still can be one from time to time. After university, I needed a change of pace, so I throw parties to raise money for non-for profit organizations.”

“Wow color me impressed,” Nathaniel smiled. Chloe felt her cheeks grow warm.

“Chloe,” her father called out to her in the crowd. The mayor waved them over. Chloe glanced over at Nathaniel, his face was stark white.  

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I just didn’t think I’d run into the mayor of Paris.”

“You know I’m the mayor’s daughter right? Besides, we’re not dating, you have nothing to be afraid of.” She tugged him forward to her father.

“Right,” he said nervously.

“Daddy,” Chloe stopped in front of her father and kissed both his cheeks.

“Wonderful event as always,” he kissed her cheeks. “How much have you raised so far?”

“About eight hundred thousand Euros in ticket sales and donations. We won’t have the final total until after we close the silent auction, but we might pass the million Euro mark.”

“Congrats baby girl,” he hugged his daughter. Andre looked over at Nathaniel standing awkwardly behind Chloe. “And who is this?”

“Daddy, this is my friend Nathaniel.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” he held out his.

The mayor took it and shook. “Nice to meet you as well. Chloe hasn’t mentioned a Nathaniel before. What happened to Alexandre?”

“Nathaniel is a new friend. Alexandre had to meet with a client for dinner and said he couldn’t make it.”

“I see.” He sized up Nathaniel. “I don’t quite understand who you brought someone else in his place.”

“Alexandre and I aren’t dating. I can bring whoever I want ”

“But surely if he or his father sees you with another man they might get the wrong impression.”

“So what?! Alexandre dates supermodels and parades a new one around every other week. I bring one friend to my own charity ball and all of a sudden you’re worried about what Alexandre and his father thinks? Well, I’ll tell you what he thinks. Alexandre doesn’t care, he never has. If he cared he would have stopped dating other women years ago when I told him I loved him.” Chloe felt hot tears rolling down her cheek. She couldn’t have a breakdown, not here. She had to go.

“I--I had no idea,” he father said softly.

“I need a minute,” Chloe grabbed Nathaniel’s hand and dragged him through the crowd and back to the lobby. There were too many people still. She made a beeline for the elevator.

Nathaniel didn’t say a word. He silently stood next to her on the ride up to the penthouse. Chloe unlocked her door and threw herself on the couch. She lay there silently for a minute before speaking.

“We graduated around the same time. I got a degree in business and political science and Alexandre finished law school. He was immediately hired by the top law firm in Paris, so I thought, this is my chance, we were living in the same city so why not tell him how you feel? A union between our families was always the end game. It’s all about making more money with the upper class. I thought I didn’t have anything to lose. So about two years ago we were at lunch and I just blurted it out.

“He said he needed more time to figure things out. I took too literally. I just knew one day he would love me back, we were meant to be. But he stopped asking me to be his escort to work events. Flaked out on me during my fundraisers. We still talked, but he seemed more and more out of reach. Fast forward two years, I thought he finally figured his shit out because it was Valentine’s Day, the most romantic day of the year and he said yes to being my date. Until this morning. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. I even roped you into this too make him jealous. But I think it’s time to stop lying to myself. He’s never going to love me.”

Nathaniel sat next to Chloe and wrapped his arm around her. “He’s an idiot. I haven’t known you for long, but you are probably the most beautiful and surprising woman I’ve meet. And if he can’t see that, it’s his loss.” Nathaniel wiped the tears from her face.

She didn’t know what came over her. Maybe it was his words or her fragile state or, hell, Valentine’s Day magic, but she tilted her head up and kissed him softly. The second their lips touched, she felt sparks.

Nathaniel pulled away. “I’m sorry, you are in an emotional state right now.”

“I don’t care.” Chloe brought his face back to hers and planted another one on him. This time Nathaniel took control, wrapping his arms around her waist to bring her closer. He tasted like mint with a slight hint of espresso. She loved it. She hadn’t felt this wanted in a long time.

Chloe didn’t know how long they kissed. It could have been minutes, maybe hours; all she knew was she never wanted to leave this couch.

There was a knock on the door. The two broke away. “I should get that,” Chloe said, nearly breathless.

“Yes,” Nathaniel coughed. “Bathroom?”

“It’s the down the hall and to the left.”

“Your penthouse is huge.” he got off the couch. “If I’m not back in ten minutes call a search party.”

“Will do.” Chloe stood up and straightened out her dress. She passed by the mirror. She was a wreck. Her lip gloss was completely smeared off from kissing. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was puffy and red. “Yikes.” She muttered. She fixed her hair to look somewhat presentable and opened the door.

Chloe froze. Alexandre stood in the doorway. In all of her anger, she’d forgotten what he looked like. The six-foot-three Adonous towered over her. He looked damn good in his three piece suit. His dark hair was perfectly styled and sophisticated like always. Perfect, as always, but there was something dark behind his hazel eyes.

“Chloe, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the last hour.”

“My phone fell in the fountain at the park. It’s been sitting in rice all day.”

“Oh, can I come in?” He looked down at her with his big puppy dog eyes. She forgot how to speak, so she just nodded. Alexandre didn’t sit down. He paced back and forth in the living room. “Listen, I was sitting in my business dinner chatting with the big wig clients when they all started talking about their wives and children. And the client asks me if I was married and I said no. They started going on and on about the joys of marriage and parenthood, and ask me if there was someone special I could see myself spending h for the rest of my life with. And the only person I could think of was you. It’s always been you Chlo, for the past ten years you have stuck with me through college and law school. We were so close as kids, but when you told me you loved me a few years ago, I froze. You were the forever girl. I was fresh out of law school and scared. So I pushed you away and I am truly sorry for that.”

“Alex…”

“I’m not done,” he held up his hand. “So I’m at the dinner and I tell my clients that I canceled a date on Valentine’s Day with my girl and they told me to buy the biggest box of chocolate and flowers and apologize. I get up and leave, but before I get to the store I see pictures of you on Twitter hanging over some other guy. What the hell?”

“It’s not like that I swear,” Chloe said. The words were coming out of her mouth before she could process them. “He’s just a guy I met this morning with nothing to do on Valentine's Day. He means nothing to me.”

“You sure about that?” Alexandre looked over her shoulder. Before she could turn around he grabbed her face and kissed her. It felt...off. He was not gentle at all and tasted like bourbon and tobacco. This was not how she imagined her first kiss with Alexandre.

A cough interrupted them. Nathaniel stood behind them; his eyes lit with rage.

“Oh my God.” she covered her mouth.

“I’m going to leave you two to sort out whatever this is.” He gestured between the two. “Thanks for the invitation. I will see myself out.” He headed for the door.

“Nathaniel, wait,” Chloe reached out and grabbed his arm.

“No, let him leave, Chlo,” Alexandre said. Chloe let go.

“You know what.” Nathaniel punched Alexandre square in the jaw. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day. Have a nice life, Chloe.” He slammed the door behind him.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Alexandre shouted. Chloe stopped him from following Nathaniel. “I’m going to kill him.”

“No you’re not.” She tried to calm him down. “Sit down, let me get you so some ice.” She went to the mini-fridge and grabbed some ice cubes and wrapped them in a towel. “This will help with the swelling.”  

“Thanks.” He grumbled and placed the ice on his jaw.

“Did you really mean what you said? About me being your forever girl?”

“Of course. That’s always been our father’s plans anyway. I’ve been holding on to my youth as long as I could, but if I want to make partner by thirty my boss wants me to get married. I had to start sooner than later.”

“Wait.” Chloe stood up. “This was about becoming partner?”

“Of course.”

“Do you even love me?”

“Chlo come on, I’m sure I’ll get there. Just give me some time.”

“No,” she shouted. “I gave you ten years of my time. Ten years waiting around for you to love me back. Ten years of you parading around model after model, while I couldn't find a man because I kept comparing them all to you. And I just let the kindest man in Paris walk out the door because I came running back to you.”

“That peasant?” he scoffed.

“He showed more compassion today than you ever showed me. And I want you out of my penthouse and out of my life.”

“You don’t mean--”

“Out!” she screamed.

“I’ll press charges, sue him for every cent he has.”

“Don’t you dare,” Chloe challenged him. “I have ten years of dirt on you. You won’t want that to become public knowledge. You don’t want your bosses to know you cheated on your LSAT?”

“You wouldn’t dare…”

“Try me.”

Alexandre stormed out of the penthouse, slamming the door behind him.

Chloe crumbled on the couch and cried until she fell asleep.

Chloe didn’t wake up until after ten o’clock the next morning. Last night was like a dream that quickly became a nightmare. Chloe groaned and forced herself to get out of her dress and into the shower. She had a lot of work to do, she felt bad for leaving the ball early, but with all the drama she needed a day off.

Chloe freshened up for the day. It had been about twenty-four hours since she put the phone in the rice. It had to be ready. She reached it to the bag, dusted it off and reassembled the phone. After a silent prayer, she turned on the device. It started up normally, thank God.

Immediately it began buzzing. Fourteen missed calls and twenty messages. Half of them were from the committee about the setup, the other half were from Alexandre. She deleted them all and sighed.

She’d done it now. She ended things with Alexandre and let the nicest guy in the world walk out her door. This was karma catching up with her.

She needed to take a walk to clear her head. On her way out the door, she spotted Nathaniel’s business card.

“Yes,” she cheered.

Could she still contact him? But did he want to see her? Chloe sighed and went back to the couch.

The business card had Nathaniel’s website on it. She typed it in on her phone to see his work. His range was incredible. From his bio, she learned that he started out drawing comics, but he discovered his love of painting in art school and focused on creating. The pieces he shared were breathtaking. She could only imagine what these looked like in real life.

Chloe sighed and dialed his number.

He answered after two rings. “Hello?”

Chloe panicked. What if he wasn’t ready to talk with her. “Hello,” she said in an old woman voice. “Is this Nathaniel Kurtzberg?”

“This is him.”

“Ah yes, I met you at the Charity ball yesterday and I got your business card. I was wondering if I can commission you for a painting of me and my cat?”

“Uh okay…” he said skeptically. “I’m going to need some details first.”

“Can we meet in person?”

“It’s easier on the--”

“What?” she screamed into the phone. “I’m having a hard time hearing you dearie. Meeting in person would be best.”

“We can do this over email to my address is on the--”

“No no, snail mail is too slow. I’d rather meet you today at one are you free?”

“I guess,” he sighed.

Nathaniel gave the address of his studio before hanging up. They were meeting in an hour. Chloe regretting doing the voice, but she couldn’t face him on the phone. She had to apologize in person.

After eating and checking some emails, it was almost time to meet with Nathaniel. His studio wasn’t too far from the Hotel so she decided to walk. She arrived at his studio at one on the dot. It was more of an apartment building than a private studio. She pressed the buzzer that read Kurtzberg and spoke into the speaker. “It’s me.” She said in her real voice.

After a minute, he buzzed her up. Chloe went up to the third floor to apartment 310 and knocked. Nathaniel opened the door immediately. “You are terrible at accents, you know that.”

“So you knew it was me.”

“Almost immediately, but I played along.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

“I came to apologize,” she said. “After you left, I kicked Alexandre out of the house. He was just using my feelings for him to get what he wanted. He doesn’t love me.”

“I could have told you that. In fact, I did tell you that.”

“I know, I know. Feelings like that don’t just go away overnight. Whenever I see him my brain turns to mush and I can’t think straight. I shouldn’t have said you were nothing to me. You have been nothing but kind to me since you jumped in the fountain to save my phone. I am so sorry.”

“He kissed you.”

“And it was awful. I put this asshole on a pedestal for years and his kiss was nothing compared to yours. I felt a connection, did you?” He nodded. “Then please, give me a second chance. I want to do this right.”

Nathaniel didn’t answer. He leaned down and kissed her lips softly. Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in close. Espresso and mint. What a delightfully strange combination.

Nathaniel broke away first. “How will I know you won’t go running back when he calls.”

“You’re just going to have to trust me,” she smirked. With the dirt she had on him she wouldn’t be seeing him for a long time.

“All right,” he nodded. “You owe me two commissions.”

“Two?”

“Yes, one of just you and one of you and your cat.”

“I don’t have a cat.”

“We’ll figure something out,” he smiled. “Step into my office.”

[i-am-a-fan-of-empty-spaces]

super long 12/21 birthday letter

dear god:

i’m on ritalin and can’t nap.

when i write these things there’s always a kind of balance i have to maintain. emotions and words are slippery and when you get an image you want to complete it, and you have to stop yourself and think: does this stay true to what i’m actually feeling? 

the truth is i feel a mix of a lot of feelings at all times. they come and fade. that makes it hard to write about them. i felt physical joy watching the contrapoints video on violence, then switched to facebook and saw my conversation with graham, felt guilt and shame and sort of a self mild-dislike. i felt motivated when ritalin first started coming on, and thought, i could probably do anything right now. but now that i’m faced with the task of studying for tutoring, it’s hard to get motivated, even if it’s easier than normal. feelings exist on scales, but words deal with yeses and nos. 

what’s going on w me? a lot happens over the course of a week. maybe one dominant theme of this week is shame and frustration over not being a good friend. some expectation to be comforted by others when i share this with them. a small degree of guilt over my desire to share this as a way to be comforted. not enough to demand anyone tell me what they honestly think about me, which is what i want most. 

i get the desire to have immediate access in crucial moments to the things that would make me a better/interestinger friend--the right words, responses, a good understanding of their feelings, more intelligence and insight, genuine interest in their lives, more skill at writing and art, 

part of this feels very myopic and selfish and pointless. if i were a non-me person reading this i wouldn’t care.

steven asked me how my friends were doing. i told him they were probably busy with finals. it didn’t dawn on me until then that that could be a reason i felt annoying. in the past whenever he got busy i got depressed and insecure and then i’d realize it wasn’t anything about me at all, i wasn’t messaging more he was just responding less. 

honesty about situations and not editing in little narrative-enhancers is a difficult task when writing for my future self and knowing an audience can read. it’s easy to believe my own lies. things like “here is why i am like this”, that make for a more coherent life story. the truth is just “i don’t know” for 99% of all things, so the method is to use as few words as possible and to be as direct as possible when describing any emotion or circumstance. even highlighting a truth like this is dangerous. you can’t be sure your insights will ever hold up over time. you can only describe your feelings in the moment. the closer you zoom and the less you make sense of things, the less dangerous things get. 

i wrote that on mdma feelings can only be defeated by larger contextualizing feelings.

ok god that’s out of the way. lemme do a thing real quick. lemme express feelings dishonestly to beautify myself and my life. the ritalin is wearing off sharply and my head is clouded by noise suddenly and my writing ability has vanished.

i said on mdma i wanted you to save people. i still want you to save people. i want you to save all of us. my tendency to read humanity as being sad and deserving of pity probably gets me in trouble with friends, probably makes them feel condescended to. but can i indulge this for just a second? i feel helpless a lot, a lot. i see people feeling helpless, even if they don’t admit it or recognize it. and i worry about a lot of people, about how they might never find someone to understand them, about how they might lose faith in the capacity of humanity to save them. i see them feeling sad and wanting to die. they talk about not being worth anything. my friend graham has tried to kill himself a lot of times already and he is a great person who should not die. i’m afraid they’ll always struggle with sadness or alienation or all of the weight they carry from past hurts. i don’t have enough love in me to give. even if i were to have all the love they needed to feel important i wouldn’t know how to express it in a way that could save them. 

i confess that these days i believe in you less, believe less in some power outside of human effort and blind luck that can change hearts, but i think when desire is powerful enough it will escape in the form of prayer, and a god becomes necessary as a receptacle of something so impossibly good that reality can’t contain it. we find ourselves bargaining, promising tasks, changes of heart, our lives, in exchange for an answer, and then we find all of it falling short and hope you have enough love for us to grant us mercy. the desire for a loving god is woven into the human heart.

it’s taken an hour or so to write these past few paragraphs. writing on a ritalin comedown is an uphill battle against mental noise.

let’s try short sentences. i can’t think long.

i pray for graham. i pray for cherr. i pray for JC. i pray for steven. i pray for giulio. i pray for felix. i pray for ace. i pray for arielle. i pray for myself. i pray for my sisters, though i find this oddly hard to say sincerely.

i pray that i have more love for my sisters. 

i pray for myself, that i can sincerely want what’s best for people even after growing close to them and seeing their selfish bits in high resolution. i pray for love that doesn’t rely on projecting my own desires on to people.

i pray for my parents. 

i pray for more love and more wisdom and more desire for love and wisdom, and stupid courage to face my own lack of it no matter how depraved and awful it gets to look at and courage also to develop where i need to develop even if it will never be close to enough, and i pray for my very best to be enough for me and i pray that people will be patient with my faults and i will be patient too,

i pray for humility and trust and stupid faith in you to provide for them all,

i pray for all of them to go places in life that are good and to find things that are good that help them survive and become fulfilled and beautiful. at the time of writing this i really feel it.

i pray for a good world. i pray for strong people. i pray that you are real, and one day things will be made right. i am angry at people who try to see things as good as they are now because things are fucked and awful and the world hurts people without recompense. i pray that you are the fulfillment of every unfulfilled desire.

i pray to be less selfish. 

i pray, selfishly, to be less insecure, because it feels bad. i want to be a healthy happy person with good thoughts and intentions.

god these days i get stressed a lot and i’m weak so instead of powering through i say things like “god save me” and “i feel lost” when it’s not actually that bad. and i curl up and let the noise in my head scatter in a million directions until i feel okay.

being honest is hard work. sighing to you like a child to a doting mother is much more satisfying. i would like to sigh to my friends because they respond more readily but humans don’t take well to self-pity. so i sigh to you.

God, help me. i feel lost. help me, help me, save me, please. teach me strength sure, 

but right now also save me and make me float in the confident knowledge of your strength and beauty so i don’t have to be strong and i can just walk forward effortlessly knowing graham and cherr and steven and giulio and felix will be okay always and forever and that one day i will be good and wise and loved and so will they. 

make this world beautiful and okay. this world is fucked and we are sad.

like a child’s cry is designed to be heard by a mother our suffering exists to invite your grace. 

amen

PS shit sucks and i’m confused a lot and stressed out and i’m a coward so i like it when it gets bad enough that i feel okay napping.

PS my therapist sucks

PS odesza is good i wanna listen to em on molly

PS i wanna be a good friend but also this is code for i wanna be liked by people i like forever

PS remember that time in taiwan i shouted at my mom and she cried and said she felt unloved even if she knew i loved her? i know how that feels and it sucks.

seriously god how do i become likable and make people’s lives good and enjoyable, and how much of this is selfishness vs genuine desire to help others and when this happens how do i make sure my whole life is constantly in a state of this and never in a state of me being annoying and needy and what is the meta truth i need to defeat my fear of being annoying

lastly PS here’s to a good 25th year 

and thank you god for letting me meet graham and cherr and everyone even mel and thank you for letting me see humanity in its richness and interestingness 

and thank you for giving me emotions and for keeping me safe all these years and giving me a sense that i am loved and understood and valuable no matter where i go

thank you for this unwavering confidence in the beauty and goodness of the human experience. you’d better not take this from me. 

like can i brag? my life rocks, taiwan was beautiful, i am cool, i am likable to a lot of people and able to get close super fast, i travel and try drugs, i am deep and interesting and moody, i bought a fucking sick cat hoodie and it makes me cute, i feel cute sometimes like right now, this bed is soft as hell, i can read tarot cards drunk at parties, i’ve grown so wise, i made a comic w cherr,

can i thank you double for my friends because holy fucking shit they are such great great humans and in every measure no matter how deep or shallow they are A+, like on the shallow end they’re easily as cool as me and have interesting opinions worth hearing and if i weren’t weird about hugging i’d hug like 2 or 3 of them maybe,

ecuador is gonna rule, maybe one day things will fall apart and i’ll lose a sense of joy over things as shallow as sick cat hoodies but like lemme have this moment, lemme have this joy okay god

amen.

oh but

on the one hand i wanna say 3 hour journaling is the norm for me. but also, i distinctly remember being on 40 mg methylphenidate and spending the 3 hours writing a letter to nathan, i also distinctly remember this molly trip a few weeks ago where i spent 8 whole entire hours writing, and each of those times it felt totally natural and not a drug compulsion, and my therapist was like “holy moly that’s a lot of writing” and i was like “nah i write when i’m sober” but shit i think he’s right

[bewitching-elizabeth-olsen]

Press: Elizabeth Olsen does double duty in 'Wind River' and 'Ingrid Goes West'

  LA TIMES – Room 64 at the Chateau Marmont is possibly the most Instagrammable spot in L.A. Its wrap-around terrace is suspended just below the homes built into the Hollywood Hills, tiny glass boxes that form their own constellation when night falls. Rumor has it Howard Hughes once lived in this two-bedroom penthouse, spying on girls at the pool below, decades before Lindsay Lohan and Lady Gaga crashed here for a slumber party.

  Today, however, it is home to the actress Elizabeth Olsen, who has arrived at the hotel with a team of people to help beautify her. High-heeled sandals are lined up on a desk. There are multiple pieces of luggage containing makeup kits. She is wearing borrowed diamonds on her fingers, paging through the room service menu, from which she can order whatever she would like.

  It’s a scene, no doubt, that would incite lust among her half-a-million Instagram followers. But she doesn’t feel like she knows how to do the setting justice. Just this morning, she attempted to photograph her breakfast, but then ended up deleting the image in haste.

  “I’m bad at it,” she says. “I’m bad at the lighting. I’m bad at the framing. I’m bad at the editing. When I look at my food, it looks pretty. When I look at it on a phone, it looks not pretty.”

  This is not a problem that her character in “Ingrid Goes West” would have. In the dark comedy — one of two films the 28-year-old is starring in this August — Olsen plays Taylor Sloane, a social media influencer who has established a reputation as the quintessential California cool girl. She tools around in a vintage Mercedes, is perennially reading Joan Didion’s “The White Album” and spends her weekends at a Joshua Tree abode. When she photographs her breakfast — avocado toast, obvi — it always looks pretty.

  Matt Spicer, who directed the film, felt certain that Olsen could embody this kind of aspirational figure. Sure, he was a fan of her acting, but he’d also noticed how often she popped up on best-dressed lists. She also had proximity to the style world via her sisters, the twins Mary-Kate and Ashley, who run two of their own fashion lines.

  “She has a natural charm and likability to her, which isn’t something you can really teach,” he says. “She’s one of those girls that other girls look up to. Since we did the movie, I think I’ve gained 1,000 Instagram followers that are just Lizzie fan accounts.”

  And for the most part, it appears that those fans gravitate to Olsen due to who she is off-screen. Even though she’s been part of the hugely popular Marvel universe for two years — playing the reality-altering Scarlet Witch in “The Avengers” and “Captain America” films — most headlines about her still tend to relate to her style choices. A quick Google search of her name turns up five Daily Mail articles from July alone, nearly all centered on her clothing.

  But Olsen has been steadily building up a respectable film resume since emerging as an “it girl” at the Sundance Film Festival in 2011, where her performance in “Martha Marcy May Marlene” signaled the arrival of a formidable new young Hollywood talent. A couple years later, she completed her acting studies at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts and began taking roles in movies from bigger filmmakers, including Spike Lee (“Old Boy”) and Gareth Edwards (“Godzilla”).

  Then Marvel came calling — a huge coup for Olsen, who grew up watching action-heavy flicks from the Indiana Jones and James Bond series with her father in Toluca Lake. But participating in the superhero franchise has also meant turning down a number of projects that could have shown off more of her acting ability — including a role in Yorgos Lanthimos’ critically acclaimed “The Lobster.”

  “There have been things more in line with the career arc I’d like to create that I had to turn down due to scheduling conflicts,” she explains. “You want to create a personal canon.”

  That’s what she’s hoping to bolster this month with “Ingrid Goes West” (Aug. 11) and “Wind River,” which debuts Aug. 4. The two movies, to put it mildly, are incredibly different. “Wind River,” which earned filmmaker Taylor Sheridan the top directing prize in the Cannes Film Festival’s Un Certain Regard section in May, is a dark murder mystery. Olsen stars opposite her “Avengers” co-star Jeremy Renner as a rookie FBI agent sent to Wyoming to investigate the death of a local woman on a remote Native American reservation.

  The role would require the actress to train with a veteran law enforcement officer and learn how to shoot a gun — opportunities she relished. She was more worried about flying to Park City, Utah, for production, because she hates the cold and high altitude.

  “So I bold-faced lied to her and said, ‘We’re not shooting high and it’s not cold there,’” Sheridan recalls with a laugh. “I knew it would be, which was one of the things I loved about it — you can see it on her face in the movie that she really doesn’t like the cold. But she overcame it.”

  The director, who nabbed an Oscar nomination for writing “Hell or High Water” and also scripted “Wind River,” cast Olsen long before Renner. He says he wanted her from the “very, very, very beginning” because he responded to an “essence of confidence” she exuded — a certain kind of toughness. “There’s a blue collar element to her, which I mean as a compliment,” he explains. “That’s how grounded she is, and maybe it’s because she grew up with [Hollywood], she’s able to see it for what it is.”

  Renner, who plays a local U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service agent who takes Olsen’s character under his wing, admits he put off reading Sheridan’s script for months. (Chris Pine was originally cast in the role.) Eventually, the actor decided to sign onto the film because he wanted “to work with Lizzie in a different way — in a real way.”

  “Here, I got to observe somebody working in a very different capacity — with more emotional intelligence, not just being in a costume and the whole thing,” the actor says. “She had to be pretty bad-ass with a handgun, I’ll tell you what — and that’s coming from a guy who knows how to use a lot of weapons.”

  “Ingrid Goes West,” of course, didn’t require quite as much prep — though Olsen did start a secret Instagram account, following women like lifestyle guru Jenni Kayne, fashion blogger Aimee Song and Who What Wear founder Hillary Kerr for inspiration. Spicer encouraged her to start posting her own photographs, which she did: one of a crusty baguette with dipping oil, another of some Diptyque candles. (“Those first ones were a little bumpy,” the director says with a laugh. “Like, food that doesn’t quite look as appetizing as it should, or sunsets. Very obvious starter photos.”)

  Then, this winter, Olsen decided to bite the bullet and start her own public page.

  “I decided to join because I realized I was only taking something away from myself,” she explains. “It’s so funny that people like to pretend that they’re maybe or maybe not getting paid to post something. Financially, it’s a brilliant opportunity. Like, I’d really love to be a brand ambassador. I’d love to do a campaign. I think sometimes working with brands or different cosmetic companies — that can help people recognize your face and then they go see your movies. I was only hurting my opportunities by not participating.”

  While some young Oscar winners like Jennifer Lawrence and Emma Stone have held out on joining the platform, it has increasingly become commonplace for even serious actor types — Anne Hathaway, Brie Larson, Shailene Woodley — to open up on social media. Before, Olsen says, she was “being old-school about it” — something she learned from her sisters, who she acknowledges are “notoriously private people.” But even they supported her launching an Instagram account. And besides, she’s not good at being “super mysterious.” She’s too chatty for that. Plus, there are plenty of accounts she wants to keep stalking.

  “There are so many times I’ve seen a picture and thought, ‘Oh, God, how do they make those flower arrangements look so great all the time?’” says Olsen, who recently bought her first home in L.A. and is decorating it with an aesthetic she describes as Diane Keaton’s Hamptons beach house in “Something’s Gotta Give.” “Or: ‘How expensive are those chairs I’m looking at on Pinterest? Did they find them at some place I’ve never heard of? How do you have that kind of eye?’”

  The rest of the photoshoot is posted in the gallery.

    Gallery Link:

Studio Photoshoots > 2017 > Session 017

  Press: Elizabeth Olsen does double duty in ‘Wind River’ and ‘Ingrid Goes West’ was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen