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utopianatolia · 7 years ago

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Kitaplar...

248) Oscar Wilde - The Picture of Dorian Gray

sounds better, doesn’t it?’ ‘He is all my art to me now. I sometimes think, Harry, that there are only two eras of any importance in the history of the world. The first is the appearance of a new medium for art, and the second is the appearance of a new personality for art also. What the invention of oil-painting was to the Venetians, the face of Antinoüs was to late Greek sculpture, and the face of Dorian Gray will some day be to me. It is not merely that I paint from him, draw from him, model from him. Of course I have done all that. He has stood as Paris in dainty armor, and as Adonis with huntsman’s cloak and polished boar- spear. Crowned with heavy lotus-blossoms, he has sat on the prow of Adrian’s barge, looking into the green, turbid Nile. He has leaned over the still pool of some Greek woodland, and seen in the water’s silent silver the wonder of his own beauty. But he is much more to me than that. I won’t tell you that I am dissatisfied with what I have done of him, or that his beauty is such that art cannot express it. There is nothing that art cannot express, and I know that the work I have done since I met Dorian Gray is good work, is the best work of my life. But in some curious way—I wonder will you understand me?—his personality has suggested to me an entirely new manner in art, an entirely new mode of style. I see things differently, I think of them differently. I can now re-create life in a way that was hidden from me before. ‘A dream of form in days of thought,’—who is it who says that? I forget; but it is what Dorian Gray has been to me. The merely visible presence of this lad, —for he seems to me little more than a lad, though he is really over twenty,—his merely visible presence,—ah! I wonder can you realize all that that means? Unconsciously he defines for me the lines of a fresh school, a school that is to have in itself all the passion of the romantic spirit, all the perfection of the spirit that is Greek. The harmony of soul and body,—how much that is! We in our madness have separated the two, and have invented a realism that is bestial, an ideality that is void. Harry! Harry! if you only knew what Dorian Gray is to me! You remember that landscape of mine, for which Agnew offered me such a huge price, but which I would not part with? It is one of the best things I have ever done. And why is it so? Because, while I was painting it, Dorian Gray sat beside me.’

‘Poets are not so scrupulous as you are. They know how useful passion is for publication. Nowadays a broken heart will run to many editions.’ ‘I hate them for it. An artist should create beautiful things, but should put nothing of his own life into them. We live in an age when men treat art as if it were meant to be a form of autobiography. We have lost the abstract sense of beauty. If I live, I will show the world what it is; and for that reason the world shall never see my portrait of Dorian Gray.’

There is no such thing as a good influence, Mr. Gray. All influence is immoral,—immoral from the scientific point of view.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because to influence a person is to give him one’s own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of some one else’s music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is self-development. To realize one’s nature perfectly,—that is what each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to one’s self. Of course they are charitable. They feed the hungry, and clothe the beggar. But their own souls starve, and are naked. Courage has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it. The terror of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God, which is the secret of religion,—these are the two things that govern us. And yet ‘I believe that if one man were to live his life out fully and completely, were to give form to every feeling, expression to every thought, reality to every dream,—I believe that the world would gain such a fresh impulse of joy that we would forget all the maladies of mediaevalism, and return to the Hellenic ideal,— to something finer, richer, than the Hellenic ideal, it may be. But the bravest man among us is afraid of himself. The mutilation of the savage has its tragic survival in the selfdenial that mars our lives. We are punished for our refusals. Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind, and poisons us. The body sins once, and has done with its sin, for action is a mode of purification. Nothing remains then but the recollection of a pleasure, or the luxury of a regret. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. It has been said that the great events of the world take place in the brain. It is in the brain, and the brain only, that the great sins of the world take place also.

but there is no doubt that Genius lasts longer than Beauty. That accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves. In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place. The thoroughly well informed man,— that is the modern ideal. And the mind of the thoroughly well informed man is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric-à- brac shop, all monsters and dust, and everything priced above its proper value. I think you will tire first, all the same. Some day you will look at Gray, and he will seem to you to be a little out of drawing, or you won’t like his tone of color, or something. You will bitterly reproach him in your own heart, and seriously think that he has behaved very badly to you. The next time he calls, you will be perfectly cold and indifferent. It will be a great pity, for it will alter you. The worst of having a romance is that it leaves one so unromantic

If the caveman had known how to laugh, history would have been different

The basis of optimism is sheer terror. We think that we are generous because we credit our neighbor with those virtues that are likely to benefit ourselves. We praise the banker that we may overdraw our account, and find good qualities in the highwayman in the hope that he may spare our pockets. I mean everything that I have said. I have the greatest contempt for optimism. And as for a spoiled life, no life is spoiled but one whose growth is arrested. If you want to mar a nature, you have merely to reform it.

before I knew you, acting was the one reality of my life. It was only in the theatre that I lived. I thought that it was all true. I was Rosalind one night, and Portia the other. The joy of Beatrice was my joy, and the sorrows of Cordelia were mine also. I believed in everything. The common people who acted with me seemed to me to be godlike. The painted scenes were my world. I knew nothing but shadows, and I thought them real. You came,—oh, my beautiful love!— and you freed my soul from prison. You taught me what reality really is. To-night, for the first time in my life, I saw through the hollowness, the sham, the silliness, of the empty pageant in which I had always played. To- for the first time, I became conscious that the Romeo was hideous, and old, and painted, that the moonlight in the orchard was false, that the scenery was vulgar, and that the words I had to speak were unreal, were not my words, not what I wanted to say. You had brought me something higher, something of which all art is but a reflection. You have made me understand what love really is. My love! my love! I am sick of shadows. You are more to me than all art can ever be. What have I to do with the puppets of a play? When I came on to-night, I could not understand how it was that everything had gone from me. Suddenly it dawned on my soul what it all meant. The knowledge was exquisite to me. I heard them hissing, and I smiled.

‘You said to me that Sibyl Vane represented to you all the heroines of romance—that she was Desdemona one night, and Ophelia the other; that if she died as Juliet, she came to life as Imogen.’ ‘She will never come to life again now,’ murmured the lad, burying his face in his hands. ‘No, she will never come to life. She has played her last part. But you must think of that lonely death in the tawdry dressing-room simply as a strange lurid fragment from some Jacobean tragedy, as a wonderful scene from Webster, or Ford, or Cyril Tourneur. The girl never really lived, and so she has never really died.

It was rumored of him once that he was about to join the Roman Catholic communion; and certainly the Roman ritual had always a great attraction for him. The daily sacrifice, more awful really than all the sacrifices of the antique world, stirred him as much by its superb rejection of the evidence of the senses as by the primitive simplicity of its elements and the eternal pathos of the human tragedy that it sought to symbolize. He loved to kneel down on the cold marble pavement, and with the priest, in his stiff flowered cope, slowly and with white hands moving aside the veil of the tabernacle, and raising aloft the jewelled lantern-shaped monstrance with that pallid wafer that at times, one would fain think, is indeed the ‘panis caelestis,’ the bread of angels, or, robed in the garments of the Passion of Christ, breaking the Host into the chalice, and smiting his breast for his sins. The fuming censers, that the grave boys, in their lace and scarlet, tossed into the air like great gilt flowers, had their subtle fascination for him. As he passed out, he used to look with wonder at the black confessionals, and long to sit in the dim shadow of one of them and listen to men and women whispering through the tarnished grating the true story of their lives.

Mysticism, with its marvellous power of making common things strange to us, and the subtle antinomianism that always seems to accompany it, moved him for a season; and for a season he inclined to the materialistic doctrines of the Darwinismus movement in Germany, and found a curious pleasure in tracing the thoughts and passions of men to some pearly cell in the brain, or some white nerve in the body, delighting in the conception of the absolute dependence of the spirit on certain physical conditions, morbid or healthy, normal or diseased.

108-111

The Renaissance knew of strange manners of poisoning,—poisoning by a helmet and a lighted torch, by an embroidered glove and a jewelled fan, by a gilded pomander and by an amber chain. Dorian Gray had been poisoned by a book.

What of Art? Its a malady Love? An illusion Religion The fashinable substitute for Belief You are a sceptic. Never.Scepticism is the begining of Faith

#oscar wilde #wilde #worldsworthedition #dorian gray #dorian #gray #the picture of dorian gray

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bygosscarmine · 7 years ago

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Death and the Spring Goddess...Get Detention.

a Sky High Olympus AU fic (Warren x Layla)

4750-word one shot

PG/Teen at most for suggestive references

Olympus Academy technically floats above mortal reach, so only real gods or truly powerful demigods can get there. Because arcane laws are a traditional hobby of most pantheons, there is (of course) a rule that if you can get to the school, you can go to the school. (There is, in the margin of this bylaw, a rather hastily handwritten addendum that one has to be of the appropriate age of one's species or kind. One can well imagine why.) Persephone was wholly unknown to any of the gods until she arrived on the Academy Isle--piggyback on the world's fastest-growing conifer.

The fact that it seemed to continue growing once she'd hopped off it alarmed a great many of the adults in the area. Since the staff on campus included Minotaur the Reformed, the one-eyed giant Ted, and Hel, the average person might have thought this a little absurd. The ways of the gods are mysterious.

Anyway, Persephone (sixteen and bitter) had been planning this badass entry for at least two weeks now. She just strode right into the Administration Office without a backward glance--she could clean up later. Besides, she was making a point.

"I am Persephone, a daughter of Demeter," she announced, sweeping in the door, her floral Doc Martins planting against any comers.

Except--there was no one. The school office, a sort of half-way between Grecian and Gothic style, was deserted. Actually, when she looked closer there seemed to be a crowd of bodies behind a frosted glass door across the room. Annoyed, Persephone swept her kerchief hem with a hand (the right swirl required a little coaching) and headed to that door.

Belatedly, she noticed one person who had witnessed this botched entrance. He didn't seem to be all that interested, glancing up only briefly as she moved forward, He was young enough to be a student. Still, her steps faltered slightly. When she got close enough to hear words being spoken inside the Administrator's office, she got the distinct impression that this young man was trying not to hear them.

He sprawled in his chair as if unconcerned, but there was an intent look on his face. Or maybe he always scowled like that. He had overgrown black hair partly covering his eyes, often the sign of a perpetual sulker.

He shifted slightly, and looked out the window, away from her. Something was odd about his eyes, but she didn't quite catch what before they were hidden by the angle. Anyway, she had psyched herself up this morning to not be fazed by anything, so it was just as well. She reached the inner office.

"--it's apparent to everyone he is a recurrence of Hades, I don't think that is a question."

"You can't deny a boy his education based on old prejudices--"

"Old prejudices! Don't make me laugh. It's that boy, not some previous incarnation, who called up Cerberus to terrorize the cafeteria."

"Under extreme provocation!"

Persephone winced for the boy, despite her own preoccupations. She knocked, and counted it a service.

The abrupt silence seeped like chill around the doorjamb. Then an incredibly beautiful female with an incredibly unfriendly face peeked out.

"Yes?"

"I am Persephone, a daughter of Demeter. I am here to enroll at Olympus."

The woman gave her a quick up and down, a tad slow replacing her judgment of Persephone's sense of style with a smile of welcome.

"I'll be right with you, dear."

The rumbling inside resumed, but now about Demeter, and whether she had publicly announced any children in the last hundred years.

"She said a daughter of Demeter," came the voice of the goddess who'd seen her, "not the daughter of Demeter, so it could mean anything. But she's here, so if she wants to enroll she can. Excuse me."

As she stepped out of the office, it became obvious the goddess was Venus, or at least her most recent form. No one else would have dressed just like the headless installation that dominated the artisan's quarter of the city below, so that it was obvious to anyone her body had been the model. Or maybe anyone else caught trying it would have found themselves in a world of hurt. Venus wasn't known for sharing well with others.

Persephone tried not to be starstruck as she followed Venus to the front desk. That would be embarrassing. It was especially embarrassing to be starstruck by someone's butt just because it really looked just like the sculpture.

Hades was having a pretty ridiculous day already when a second freaking fertility goddess walked into the building. Dressed like an eco-terrorist, no less. She had on army boots, but they were embroidered with daisies or something. And she was wearing them with a green sundress, as if symbolism was an art completely lost on her and she instead chose to draw a chart.

He couldn't decide if her being bony and awkward was more disconcerting or comforting, in a redheaded nature deity.

He winced when she announced she was Demeter's daughter. His adoptive mom had versed him rigorously in all his past connections (as far as history could tell them) with past incarnations of various gods, and one thing he knew for sure was that he and that goddess found ways to hate each other in every lifetime.

His bio-mom thought worrying about former incarnations was laughable, and introduced her boyfriend as her "ex-brother" just to make him squirm. Meeting Rhea had explained a whole lot about his adoptive mom's attitude, really.

While Rhea continued to do a terrible job trying to keep him in this school, he watched the other fertility goddess in the building get the young one entered for classes. Green Dress seemed to be having trouble not staring at Venus's white drapery. Well, that was the whole point of the drapery, really.

Rhea wrenched open the door and emerged to glare at him.

"If you want to stay in this school and not be put down as unallied with Olympus, you need to come make some apologies."

About ten minutes earlier, Hades had been planning to tell them all to shove it up their unnaturally ageless backends. But there was a distant sound of shouting that the new kid seemed to be ignoring with intent. She hadn't relaxed like someone who had achieved their goal, either.

Maybe he didn't want to leave just yet. He went to do the most godly grovel he could muster.

Persephone had not come to Olympus for the better school environment. She quite liked it, especially when she found out that she could skip mythology class for a fairly advanced botany workshop as her personalize elective. No, she had come to get Zeus to do something about Earth's global warming.

Olympus Academy was the only standardized route for gods to get enrolled in Olympus as deities. Unlike she had hoped, though, Persephone couldn't get to the rest of Olympus from the levitating campus. Nor did it seem at all easy to approach the gods who could help her with her petition. So, to bide her time (and prepare for her political future), she made friends with the other students--when that was possible.

When it was not possible, she tried to at least not pick any fights.

All the students were technically young, not experienced as gods, and working toward being officially part of the Olympus Alliance. There were still clearly marked cliques and hierarchies.

She'd been a little astonished to be greeted with enthusiasm by a good number of her fellow students, despite the fact that her tree had taken up permanent residence in the squash court. (Some of the more athletic students soon adapted this into the world's highest jungle-gym, and even used it to sneak off campus for lunch. Persephone could not fly and did not think she was immortal enough to just try falling, so she had accepted her admittance to the campus dorm without any regrets.)

It was only after her first few weeks that she realized all the students who had befriended her belonged to a certain class at school. They were the nurturers, earth-mothers, healers, and emotion deities. As far as she could tell, they had the most fun anyway, so she had no regrets.

Still, there was no denying the Frights (as her new friend Pom called them) were somehow cooler.

Some of the Frights were loners, but the others had a loose network. Venus's younger sister Di wasn't always around, because she was intense about her archery training, but whenever she sat down she was instantly surrounded by girls with knife-sharp eyeliner and husky voices. She was thick as thieves with Mars, though apparently blood flowed when anyone suggested they were dating. When both of them were otherwise unoccupied there was an inevitable devolvement to war games of various forms.

So the first time Persephone made an absolute fool of herself was, naturally, in front of both of them.

The day before at lunch the Frights had been playing some card game. While the penalties for losing had been violent, at least it hadn't taken up the whole lawn where people ate lunch. (The weather was always good on Olympus, unless someone had really gotten Zeus upset. This happened only every few decades, and there were bomb shelters, not awnings, inside the school for these occasions.)

Today, though, it was a glorified version of capture the flag. Some god or other with constructive tendencies had offered up two hand-built forts for the Frights to guard, because of course they had.

"Persie, over here!" called Pomona.

While war was being set up, their own group had very sensibly settled within the line of oak trees. Since these trees were sacred to several gods (some of them adults) they were well out of the range of danger.

Pom was eating beautifully arranged sushi that did not come from meal services, and Persephone sighed as she unpacked her own lunch. It was apples, cheese, and peanut butter, and she hoped Pom wouldn't notice the apples weren't fancy ones.

"Did you hear that they're going to let Hades come back to class?" said a boy who went by Jay. This was clearly some kind of nickname, but Persephone had never seen any signs of what his godhood was, and had decided it might be better that way.

"Uh, did you not know he's been here?" said the guy who was resting his head on Jay's lap. Persephone had suspicions about him, but called him Eric anyway.

"This whole time? I haven't seen him."

Jay clearly thought this was a loss.

"He's been doing twelve-hour detentions, that's why," said Eric. "I hear him sometimes coming into the dorm. He's above my room, you know."

"Who's Hades?" Persephone asked Pom in a whisper.

"You haven't met him?" gasped Pom. Persephone should have known better than to try to have a surreptitious conversation with Pom. "He's like, the Fright of all Frights."

"Obviously, I've heard of Hades," Persephone said, blushing.

"Do you think it's true he appears when you say his name?" asked another girl, and the conversation mercifully turned to gossip.

It dawned on her slowly, as hints were made about what Hades had done to to earn near-constant detention, that he had to be the guy in the Administration Office that first day.

She was just trying to remember what she had noticed about his eyes when something hit her on the back of the head.

Hades had found a good corner where he could keep an eye on everyone while eating his lunch, and not be snuck up on from behind. He didn't usually eat lunch out on the grounds with the morons at school, but the structures that had gone up for today's wargame promised havoc. It was better witness havoc than try to piece it together by hearsay.

He wasn't watching, per se, when one of the jock morons pitched an apple at the nature crowd, but he saw it.

It hit the new redhead. She didn't always wear green, but today she had either worn or sprouted a crown of flowers. In a way, that kind of thing was asking those jocks to do something dumb. On the other hand, how thick did you have to be to use a piece of fruit to assault Spring Incarnate?

Dudes who grew up thinking of themselves as gods who might make something of themselves, apparently.

He set his dry sandwich down on his tray and leaned forward to watch what went down.

"Oops, sorry, Red!" came an amused masculine voice.

At first, Persephone just stared as the apple rolled by her then nestled against her knee as if seeking comfort. Then she understood--it hadn't been an accident.

She turned to look, already knowing who had spoken.

It was Ares, Mars' hanger-on. The guy had taken to lingering by her seat after Strategic Math, and while he hadn't exactly made a move, he probably would have, if she'd allowed him to make eye-contact.

"I brought you some more lunch, but it slipped out of my hand," he said. "You really don't need to diet for me."

Since one of Persephone's problems in putting together a good lunch was from all the sports-type guys complaining if anything vegetarian was served, this was particularly enraging.

She picked up the apple, stood, and threw it so hard and fast it had only grown a branch the thickness of her arm when it hit him in the face. (If she'd popped it up, it could have landed a grown tree. Hopefully entrapping Ares in its roots forever.)

"Nice arm," said Di from across the field. When she saw that Ares was bleeding from his nose, Di came Persephone's way. "I've got it--revenge plot."

Mars, kneeling at the foot of his fort to install some kind of whittled spikes, shrugged and said, "Sure. Fury of the women?"

"Persephone on my side with that arm, and Ares on your side with his."

There was a chuckle from some of the bystanders.

"No, I don't agree," Persephone said. "Di, you all are really cool, but no, I won't. I'm not good at games like this, and I don't care enough about it to get involved."

"Guess it'll have to be a good old kidnapping then," said Mars, grabbing Persephone.

Which was a really, really bad move.

Hades had his suspicions from that first day. After Rhea had stormed out, and Hades had been signing contracts about how much service he'd do to be taken off probation, there had been another meeting--and though the administrators were just as tense and argumentative as before, it wasn't about him. They had been interrogating Venus, and inspecting the files.

Something about Persephone besides her pine tree had disturbed them. Or maybe her pine tree had tipped them off to something, Hades couldn't be sure.

Today, he got to see it.

Persephone turned into Mars's grasp, only for him to shriek and let go, and then fall to the ground covering his head. Odd.

Turning the grass to blades beneath his feet was easy. And getting out of his grasp by leaning in rather than struggling was easy.

Unfortunately, by now there was the no-turning-back bubbling of power that occasionally overcame her, and while some small part of teenage Persephone wished to stop, the age-old nature goddess part was ready to take them all to pieces.

She did not. But it was very difficult to restrain herself. There had to be an outlet somewhere.

Her power curled out, lifting her usually straight hair into a nimbus, as it reached out in a circling pattern, telling her what she could do with her surroundings. All those standing in or between the forts were shouting, running for the forts to get off the stabbing grass.

The forts turned quickly to giant treehouses, formed of revived trees--different species now spliced together and creating strange bark-encased cages around the students who had been caught in them.

At the corners of her vision she saw things morphing and changing. At the edges of her hearing she heard shouts and crying. At the horizon of her existence, she knew she was losing herself, but the fierce expanding-green of Spring did not care.

The sacred oaks grew in dimension, until the crowd of nature-types at the foot of them were all hugging each other in the tightening gap between the trunks. Why didn't the idiots run? Hades did not get these guys.

Professor Apollo, looking harried, came running toward the meadow. He cast a look around, a white beard sprouting from his face with the stress, and then he bellowed, "Hades! I know you're here somewhere. Do something!"

Hades stood up and stepped forward.

An unnatural hush fell when the grass withered suddenly to brown all around them. The trees caging the Fright jocks ceased growing with creaks and instead became quiet carved wood again, though still in the shape of terrible trees.

His steps onto the lawn seemed to echo, though he knew no one but himself and Persephone would hear them.

She had turned jewel-green eyes toward him, her floating red hair swirling with the motion. She stayed still as she assessed her new enemy.

"Hey kid," he said, and with nerves his voice came out deep and rocky. "No one's really going to hurt you. You're all right. You're hurting the trees."

Step, step, step. He felt her waiting power crackle on his skin like a lick of sun. She had been wearing a purple dress today, a little more low-key nature goddess. Now, though, it was a raiment of flower petals, all fresh and even moving as though still unfurling, with a hem of twining stems where the fabric had been edged with lace.

Hades had accepted weeks ago that he was going to be aware of what this particular student was wearing at any given time. It wasn't just that she had that fertility goddess glow--it was that her power seemed to shout at his. It made sense; it was also a real headache. Now he had to declare that clash between them in front of the whole school.

Apollo's beard had stopped growing mid-chest, but the teacher was still clutching it in his fingers with anxiety.

But Hades hadn't been watching lunchtime battles so carefully for nothing.

He knelt in front of Persephone, and reached out to hold the edge of her dress, careful not to crush any petals but only hold the tougher stems.

"I won't touch you," he said. "If you calm down, no one will hurt you. But if you don't, I will have to stop the oak trees, and that will hurt you a lot, won't it?"

"Since when," said a crone-voice that was not Persephone's, "are you a hostage negotiator, Hades?"

He laughed. "Since my mother declared feud on Zeus two thousand years ago. And since you, Demeter, kept hijacking your daughter's destiny. And in this life, since my step-dad decided to start beating my mom."

Not Rhea. When Rhea had finally checked in long enough to notice what was going on, she had the man put away for a long time. A long, long, long time. Long enough for Hades to get very good at being a god before they met again.

"Oh my god," said Persephone, herself again.

She blinked, and her eyes were fading to blue. Then she crumpled toward the ground, nearly knocking heads with him.

Persephone had not planned on having her first meeting with Zeus in a disciplinary hearing. Her new plans had all revolved around the upcoming harvest feast. All the gods who were on speaking terms with Zeus joined the students at Olympus High for the festival, so it was a brilliant opportunity. She had been drilling herself on rhetoric for the occasion.

Now she was next to Hades in the hot seats of the principal's office, while a ruggedly fifties-ish looking man tried to charm her. Zeus hardly ever died, so he was more like fifty-thousandish. It was gross he wanted to look young. At least Apollo had the grace to look like he tanned too much.

"It's understandable to get upset," Zeus was saying, "but you really have to be cautious not to do anything in anger you can't undo."

He would know, she thought. Though she took the whole Daphne thing more personally, at least Apollo wasn't a hypocrite. Also, Apollo had self-ordered a restraining order on himself that was upheld through all his lifetimes--something she had found out when doing research in the Olympus High library for possible leverage.

Anyway, a lecture from Zeus didn't weigh much with Persephone.

It was sitting next to Hades that was making her twitchy.

"So, in punishment," said Zeus so she started listening again, "I will go easy on you, as a first-time offender and fairly new goddess, dear. Hades, you will show her the ropes on your detention, and she will serve a hundred hours alongside you."

"Sir," objected Hades, "that's work in my domain. She doesn't belong there."

"Right. Which is why she's only doing a hundred hours."

He stood up and beamed at both of them, reminding Persephone strongly of a overly peppy soccer coach she had hated as a kid--particularly for the way he made up nicknames instead of using her full name.

"Have fun, children."

Zeus winked, and was gone.

Hades looked over at her, and overlaying his default scowl there was a hint of apology.

She remembered very clearly the shock of looking into his eyes earlier, when she'd wanted to kill him for messing with her plants. One eye was warm brown, the other a black that faded to ash-grey at the center. All of her fury had seemed to sink into that dead-bone eye, as if he was an abyss that power just fell into.

"So what hell is it that you're working on for detention?" she asked, to get him to stop looking at her.

Because of an undesirable attuning to his own name, Hades had heard a great deal of gossip in the last 24 hours. Some of it between teachers.

And as he had suspected, something about Persephone really freaked them out.

Hades was used to freaking people out, himself. He even enjoyed it. All the staff here expected him to freak them out a little and acted accordingly. Apparently, though, a really powerful nature goddess was way more daunting than the god of Death.

Which is probably why they had unanimously decided to balance the two of them against each other.

At least today it was waves of Persephone's own hatred for him practically growing into a wall between them, instead of Demeter's.

The girl looked a little pale. In Zeus's presence she had bristled but now these defenses had fallen away, and she looked small.

Only looked small, though; Hades could still feel her power filling the space around them in the hallway. But a god could feel small even if they had a lot of power.

So he didn't say anything, just led her to the maintenance part of the building and down the stairs. Down, and down. Though she started to get nervous, she didn't ask why they were going down so far. Maybe she put two and two together.

Then finally he opened the door at the very bottom, its bottom edge scraping still-unsmoothed dirt, and showed her in.

"So," Persephone said, staring around at what seemed to be a glorified basement. Not really even glorified, just massive. "Did you do all the decorating yourself?"

"It's a fixer-upper. A fixer-downer? I only claim responsibility for the two thirds at the back. You may noticed a distinct trend toward shoddy worksmanship that direction. What can I say, I'm a destroyer not a maker."

Apparently, Hades had been waiting the whole time they were descending to his 'realm' only to launch into a comic routine.

"Wow, the god of death has a sense of humor?"

"Wow, the goddess of fertility doesn't?"

She stamped a boot with frustration. "What did you call me?"

"I...didn't realize that was inappropriate."

"Fertility! As if the only thing a woman and springtime and nature can be about is being FERTILE. Listen, buddy, it's not all eggs and pollen. Being called a fertility goddess is essentially writing someone off as overly feminine and therefore probably useless."

His weird mismatched eyes on her made her skin crawl. She'd been trying to fend off the sense of his cold, burying power and now she was surrounded on all sides by rock. Not just rock, dead rock. Rock leeched of nutrients and good minerals.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "Despite how it may seem, I have only the greatest regard for life and the living."

He turned away, and walked toward a distant corner of the square, cave-like place. His hands were in his pockets, but the line of his back was anything but relaxed and nonchalant. She realized after a second that he was heading toward a wheelbarrow full of heavy tools, and hurried to catch up.

Hades heard the scuffing of her ridiculous boots, shorter paces trying to catch up with his, and slowed just slightly. She didn't step up to his side, though, until they reached the spot where he'd left his gear at the raw edge of the cave.

"I'm sorry, this is rough work," he said, hauling out and offering her a choice between pickaxe and sledgehammer.

"What are we doing, anyway?" she asked.

"Enlarging hell, what does it look like?"

Why did he have to be sarcastic right now? Was it some mythic law, "All Hades will be stupid around spring-slash-nature goddesses"?

"No, but why does Zeus want you enlarging hell? Under Olympus?"

"We're not really...under Olympus any more."

"Fine, wherever we are."

He hesitated. "Just like more life is always being made...death is also always being made."

"You mean, this is literally going to become more underworld, with ghosts in it?" Persephone sounded horrified.

"No," he said. "This is my new throne-room. Gods of death don't leave when they die. Look, if you aren't going to do the bludgeoning work, get out that spade. You can shovel the debris instead."

She had an intently innocent look on her face. Hades had seen that look before--when the Minotaur dude had burst into the administration office, saying, "It won't stop! The tree is cutting into the mountain!"

The Minotaur's voice had sounded more like a squeal than speech. Hades had enjoyed that.

Now he turned slowly, and saw that a vine had started to break up the wall, weakening the stone. "Will that help?" she asked.

It was impossible.

There was nothing for a plant to grow in here. His presence in this underworld should have stopped her, made it a locus of lifelessness. But as he stared at her handiwork, already causing small stones to fall out of the wall, he also noticed that the power she'd been expending to ward him away was no longer concentrated between them.

Maybe it hadn't been hate. Maybe it was fear. Though apparently Persephone did not have much to fear from Hades.

He didn't tell her it was impossible, however, because she really didn't need any more encouragement. He started shoveling the rubble her vines were creating into the wheelbarrow, thinking this could either be the longest or shortest hundred hours of his life. He hoped he didn't screw it up.

"So what's your big goal in coming to Olympus, Persephone?"

"To end global warming. Unless you want the whole planet dead, of course," she said--with an actual smile, however barbed.

"Not at all," he demurred, scraping another shovel-full of falling rock together.

"And what about you, Hades? Something bigger than being on Zeus's team got you coming to this circus?"

"Preparing for my rightful throne, obviously," he said, waving around.

After a few moments more of her concentrating on coaxing her vines to fissure the rocks, and getting on gloves to encourage it to fall, she said, "I really can't believe I've gotten myself in trouble. Zeus may never listen to me now."

Hades didn't share that he thought Zeus had reason to worry about not pleasing her, rather than the other way around.

Not yet, anyway. After all, they had another ninety-nine and a half hours together.

#Warren x Layla #Warren Peace x Layla Williams #Sky High #Olympus AU #fanfiction

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averyizaak · 4 years ago

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Stair Railing

Step railings are a prosperity feature with demanding development guideline necessities planned to keep you secure while investigating the various floors of your home. Whether or not you expect to present a DIY step railing with or without the use of a cost saving substitute way step railing pack, or enroll an originator to make a custom stairwell without any planning, the choice of step railings is a huge arrangement decision that can build up the speed for your space.While dated advance railings from past numerous years can make a home vibe depleted and disregarded, all around saved or restored model styles add allure and character to a period home. Contemporary advance railings can add a significant segment of style to another structure or cause a more prepared home to understand current.Check these stairway railings in various styles, materials, and plans to stir your own endeavor.

1.Modern Farmhouse

Dim cross metal advance railings add a cleaned present day farmhouse contact to this agreeable family-obliging parlor from Design by Emily Henderson. The white dividers show up distinctively corresponding to the striking dull railing.

2.Art Deco-Inspired

Inside engineer Michelle Salz-Smith of Studio Surface uncovered to us that she cooperated with a close by talented laborer to make the special, Art Deco-impelled stairwell railing above for a home in Del Mar, California. "We love conveying designing nuance to unanticipated spots like railings," Salz-Smith says. "Negative space should be seen as while choosing the layout of a railing. It should similarly play charmingly with other key arrangement segments."

3.Industrial Black

In this kitchen overhaul from Los Angeles-based Anne Carr Design discovered squares from the coastline, a reasonable dull stairway adds a mechanical touch to the light and vaporous vibe of the splendid kitchen space.

4.Iron Bars

In this mountain retreat from Design by Emily Henderson, everything was arranged considering straightforwardness, including the dim iron advance railing. "We arranged it to be so fundamental and smooth with no improving determining," Henderson forms on her blog, "beside the wood on top which organizes our wood on the floor."

5.White and Bright

In this vaporous, light-flooded receiving area from Design by Emily Henderson, a clear, faultless white direct railing lines the means all through the amazed space and goes probably as a guardrail to the lower level. The railing has an especially slim profile that it nearly disappears in the brilliant space, leaving the consideration on the points of view, designs and expressive format.

6.Sculptural

In this contemporary inside arrangement from Kara Mann, a sculptural white stairway is an incredible clarification that adds excessive structures and a characteristic vibe to the objective space. The sparkling white encased plan of the stairway is expanded by moderate dull railings that follow the curves of the stairwell from floor to floor, adding contrast.

7.Wood Slat Wall

In this home update by Jen Talbot Design, a stairway crossing various floors fuses fundamental handrails and a mass of floor-to-rooftop wood underpins that grant air and light to experience. Talbot alluded to the warm wood tones of the current stairway with an orange lounge chair. Else, she clung to an impartial scope of dull and rich whites that put the consideration on sculptural furniture with twists standing apart from the stairwells straight lines.

8.Walnut and Glass

In this redesigned period condo in London, Scenario Architecture kept the primary plan of the home rather than making an open-arrangement space. Nonetheless, they made a sensation of broad size and openness by patching up the stairway using warm walnut and glass that offers straightforwardness and allows light to channel through to the anteroom. The mixed materials feel new and current, anyway the streamlined arrangement feels sufficiently everlasting to last.

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rowanwhittington · 5 years ago

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I did a scale model workshop with Lee Cadden, focussing on creating a human figure 1/25th my size. It is made up of a wire armature wrapped in tin foil to allow it to show up on camera. As I was making it, I created a character in my head and it ended up being an old man, shown fully in the last photo after I’d made a walking stick out of a spare piece of wire. This helped me when positioning it for the photos, establishing a narrative out of the miniature set pieces.

I used yellow/white and red lights to follow the blood-like colour scheme of my work, and the colours of the set pieces worked harmoniously with this. I wanted the photos to explore isolation and loneliness, with the two chairs suggesting that another figure should be present. I hadn’t really played with narrative in my work in this way, and it was interesting to experiment with.

I also did a 3D model workshop, forming a bird out of cardboard and tape. I decided to elongate the body and bird to create a mutated, dramatic shape, which I thought would create some interesting shadows in the photos. Unfortunately many of my photos with both the scale model and 3D model came out blurry, however I think the photo I used shows the contrasting scale ad colour experimentation well.

After working with sculpture, I decided to look into the work of Louise Bourgeois, who worked mainly in metal framed sculptures and exploring humanity and emotion through them.

Louise Bourgeois (25th December 1911 - 31st May 2010) was a French-American artist most notably known for her sculptural work and installations. Her work explores many themes, including family, sexuality and death, all of which connect to her childhood, allowing her work to become a therapeutic process. The New York Times stated that her work “shared a set of repeated themes, centred on the human body and its need for nurture and protection in a frightening world.”

Bourgeois was born in Paris to Josephine Fauriaux and Louis Bourgeois, owner of a gallery which dealt mainly in antique tapestries. They moved out of the city to Choisy-le-Roi a few years after her birth to set up a workshop for tapestry restoration, surrounding Bourgeois with art from an early age.

Her mother, who she was particularly close with, died in 1932, prompting her to quit studying mathematics at the Sorbonne after two years there, although Bourgeois stated “I got peace of mind, only through the study of rules nobody could change,” in relation to maths and geometry. Her mothers death was especially impactful on Bourgeois due to her fathers continued affairs throughout her sickness and eventual end, including one lasting ten years with his daughters live in English tutor, with the theme of anger towards her father appearing often in her work. Her mother also is featured in her sculptures through the motif of a spider. Bourgeois said, “the spider is an ode to my mother [...] she was my best friend. Like a spider, my mother was a weaver [...] Like spiders, my mother was very clever.” The spider represents women, and although at first seeming off-putting and frightening, in fact act as protectors, conveying strength and power.

‘Maman’, 1999, Louise Bourgeois

After her mothers death she began studying art, joining classes as a translator for English speaking students as this meant she was not charged tuition. Alongside this, she got a job leading tours at the Musee de Louvre, surrounding her with art both in school and at work. After graduating from the Sorbonne, Bourgeois studied art further at the Ecole de Beaux-Arts and Ecole du Louvre. She opened a print shop next to her father’s tapestry gallery, where she met American art professor and critic Robert Goldwater, who she married and had three sons with. In 1932 she moved with Goldwater to New York City, continuing schooling at the Art Students League of New York where she studied painting under Vaclav Vytlacil, a notable abstract painter. About painting, Bourgeois said, “The first painting has a grid: the grid is a very peaceful thing because nothing can go wrong ... everything is complete. There is no room for anxiety ... everything has a place, everything is welcome.”

This introduces another prominent theme in Bourgeois’ life and work: anxiety. Jerry Gorovoy, her assistant and friend, stated “she was very anxious - a trait she thought she inherited from her mother.” This anxiety can be seen in her 1993 piece, ‘Arch of Hysteria’.

Bourgeois had been in psychoanalysis from 1951 until the 1980s following the death of her father and depression that came alongside it. She started therapy with Dr Leonard Cammer, although switched to Dr Henry Lowenfeld the next year, a student of Sigmund Freud. There was a huge focus on hysteria in Freudian psychoanalysis, particularly that involving women. Within these fits, the women would contort their bodies into arches, although there is no physical reason for this reaction. Frediuans thought it to be a psycho-sexual reaction or one of the unlocking of repressed memories, and Bourgeois’ work explores a similar theme, with her sculptural work unlocking the psychological and emotional memories within her body. The sculpture was cast from Gorovoy’s body, then hung from the ceiling to reflect the fragility and vulnerability of humans. It could turn and spin, preventing it fro being in a stable condition, much like the psyche. Bourgeois made it highly polished so that the viewer could see their reflection on the body, connection them to the piece and introducing questions about the self upon view.

In 2012 her work was exhibited in The Freud Museum London in ‘Louis Bourgeois: Return of the Repressed’. It came about after Gorovoy discovered two boxes of her writings containing over one thousand sheets recording her psychoanalysis and meetings with Lowenfeld. these writings provide the viewer with an insight into both her state of mind and working process. The curator, Phillip Larratt-Smith said, “the discovery of the psychoanalytic writings has enriched and augmented our understanding of Bourgeois’ work and life immeasurably. They represent a distinct contribution to art history as well as to the field of psychoanalysis.” Despite this, Bourgeois felt that psychoanalysis could not help her - “The truth is that Freud did nothing for artists, or for the artist’s problem, the artist’s torment,” “to be an artist involves some suffering. That's why artists repeat themselves - because they have no access to a cure.” Even Freud himself admitted “before the problem of the creative artist, psychoanalysis must lay down its arms,” in his 1926 essay ‘Dostoevesky and Parricide’.

Upon researching Bourgeois I found myself entirely consumed by her life story, with my reading spanning multiple days. She fascinates me, and her perspective of involving personal traumas and memories within her work resonates with me, although perhaps less notably in this project. Despite not being a huge fan of all of her work, her creative process is one that will stick with me and somewhat mirrors that of my own work. I like to confront my own issues through art as a way of coping with them. It is entirely personal and means I can express these concerns without any judgement other than that of myself. This has been extremely healing and in my opinion, one of the most beneficial aspects of being a creative.

Reference links:

https://whitehotmagazine.com/articles/louise-bourgeois-at-freud-museum/2547

https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2012/apr/06/louise-bourgeois-freud

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/mar/14/louise-bourgeois-feminist-art-sculptor-bilbao-guggenheim-women

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbXpUr3bZmI

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georgewagner · 5 years ago

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Most searched for celebrity houses

With most of the world at various stages of lockdown, we’re all spending a lot more time in our homes right now. The same goes for the rich and famous, and because of social media such as Instagram Lives and TikTok, we’re seeing a lot more of their homes than normal as well.

It got us thinking – we know from our recent Rated People Home Improvement Trends Report that people get the inspiration for their own homes from a range of places, like Pinterest and magazines, but are people looking up celebrity homes too? And if so, whose houses are we searching for the most? We decided to delve into the data to find out.

We took hundreds of the most well-known people in the world, from actors to influencers, and analysed search data to see how many people were Googling their houses. The results are in.

World’s most searched for celebrity homes

1. Kim Kardashian – 168,000 6. Tom Brady – 93,400 2. =Kylie Jenner – 115,200 7. =Ellen DeGeneres – 86,400 2. =Will Smith – 115,200 7. =Eminem – 86,400 3. Elon Musk – 105,600 8. Jeffree Star – 82,800 4. Pewdiepie – 99,600 9. Ed Sheeran – 80,400 5. Lionel Messi – 98,400 10. Justin Bieber – 79,200

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A post shared by white + natural interiors (@white_and_natural_interiors) on Mar 14, 2019 at 11:22am PDT

Kim Kardashian’s house (above)

According to the data, Kim Kardashian’s house, that she shares with Kanye West and their four children, is the most searched for celebrity home in the world. Over 12 months, there are a huge 168,000 searches globally by those looking to take a peek into her famously minimalist LA home.

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A post shared by KYLIE JENNER HOUSE (@kyliejennerhouse) on Apr 28, 2020 at 1:14pm PDT

Kylie Jenner’s house (above)

Kim’s sister Kylie’s home is next on the list, she’s recently moved into a house worth $36.5 million that boasts seven bedrooms, 14 bathrooms and an outdoor and indoor home theatre.

Kylie’s home places joint second with the house of actor Will Smith, with their homes being searched for 115,200 times a year. Both their houses are also said to be in LA.

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(@peter_raab_realtor) on Sep 9, 2019 at 3:47pm PDT

Tom Brady’s house (above)

Two sports stars’ homes feature in the top ten list – Argentinean footballer Lionel Messi’s, which is rumoured to be a Mediterranean-style villa in Barcelona, and American footballer Tom Brady’s. Tom is said to have recently purchased a home in Connecticut.

The only Brit’s home to make the top ten is Ed Sheeran’s. The award-winning musician has built an entire estate in Suffolk where he grew up that consists of five properties, and there are over 80,000 searches for it annually.

World’s most searched for royal homes

1. Prince Harry – 8,040 6. Queen Elizabeth II – 1,800 2. Meghan Markle – 5,040 7. Prince Andrew – 1,320 3. Prince William – 4,800 8. Princess Beatrice – 1,080 4. Kate Middleton – 4,200 9. Prince Edward – 720 5. Prince Charles – 3,960 10. Zara Phillips – 600

Although no royals’ houses appear in the top ten, all over the globe people search in their thousands to have a look into the houses (or rather palaces) of princes and princesses.

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A post shared by Lucas (@lucasmajuski) on May 12, 2020 at 9:39am PDT

Prince William’s house (above)

Perhaps reflective of their recent move to the US, Harry and Meghan’s homes are the first and second most searched for, followed by those of William and Kate. Although not officially confirmed, Harry and Meghan have reportedly been staying in an LA home owned by actor and director, Tyler Perry. We do know though, that Kate and William live at both Kensington Palace in London and Anmer Hall in Norfolk.

When William and Kate have invited cameras into their apartment in Kensington Palace, we’ve seen that it’s traditionally decorated with ornate touches such as oil paintings, sculptures and decorative vases.

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A post shared by British Royal Family (@britishmonarchy) on Oct 10, 2013 at 7:27am PDT

Buckingham Palace (above)

Surprisingly the home of the reigning monarch, Queen Elizabeth II’s house, only came in at 6th place. There are 1,800 searches globally for her home – she splits her time between Buckingham Palace in London, Windsor Castle in Windsor and Balmoral Castle in Scotland.

Buckingham Palace is currently undergoing £369 million renovations which includes updating the plumbing and electrics and making some general décor improvements. If you’re interested in seeing the works being made, follow the official @TheRoyalFamily account on Instagram.

World’s most searched for influencer homes

1. Pewdiepie – 99,600 6. Lilly Singh – 5,280 2. Jeffree Star – 82,800 7. Liza Koshy – 5,040 3. Shane Dawson – 21,600 8. Rosanna Pansino – 4,200 4. =Zoe Sugg – 19,200 9. Jaclyn Hill – 4,080 4. =James Charles – 19,200 10. Tanya Burr – 2,760 5. Mrs Hinch – 10,800

For many influencers, sharing their lives is all part of the job. So it’s perhaps not surprising that we’re curious about the houses they’re living in as well.

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A post shared by PewDiePie (@pewdiepie) on Jun 24, 2017 at 8:59am PDT

Pewdiepie’s house (above)

Pewdiepie, whose real name is Felix Arvid Ulf Kjellberg, has the most Googled influencer house with 99,600 searches a year. Although originally from Sweden, he lives in Brighton with his wife and fellow influencer Marzia and they’re said to have recently bought a home in Japan too.

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A post shared by @gilinksygirl on Jun 17, 2018 at 9:55am PDT

Zoe Sugg’s house (above)

Three British influencers also make the list. Zoe Sugg’s house is searched for nearly 20,000 times a year, she lives with her boyfriend (and YouTuber) Alfie Deyes in a seven-bed house in Brighton which is decorated with subway tiles, velvet furniture, roll top baths and lots of plants. Cleaning Instagrammer Mrs Hinch, who famously has a very grey-hued décor style, has the 5th most searched for influencer home, and beauty guru Tanya Burr’s home is searched for nearly 2,800 times a year. Her London house has a minimal feel with dark floorboards and simple white furniture.

World’s most searched for sports stars’ homes

1.Lionel Messi – 98.400 6. Kawhi Leonard – 45,600 2. Tom Brady – 93,600 7. Virat Kohli – 42,000 3. Michael Jordan – 67,200 8. Roger Federer – 32,400 4. LeBron James – 60,000 9. Sachin Tendulkar – 30,000 5. Cristiano Ronaldo – 52,800 10. Stephen Curry – 22,800

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A post shared by KarlTotoro (@karltotoro) on Sep 1, 2019 at 4:43pm PDT

Michael Jordan’s house (above)

It seems like we’re not only interested in how sports stars play, but also what their homes are like. Footballers, cricketers, basketball players, American footballers and tennis players all make the top ten list of most searched for homes. Lionel Messi’s home is the one that’s Googled the most, which (from glimpses on Instagram) looks to be modern with stunning sea views. In second place is Tom Brady’s home which he shares with his wife and model Gisele Bündchen – both their social media profiles show a chic home with a private gym and large kitchen with marble worktops.

If you’re feeling inspired after looking at some of the amazing houses of the rich and famous, find your nearest local tradesperson to make those home dreams a reality.

All search figures were acquired from Ahrefs, correct as of 29th April 2020.

The post Most searched for celebrity houses appeared first on Rated People Blog.

Most searched for celebrity houses published first on https://fanseeaus.tumblr.com/

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kafashionsofficial · 5 years ago

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Fashion Tips: Designing at Home

Sew a patchwork quilt with Next in Fashion’s Daniel Fletcher

Creative director and star of Netflix’s Next in Fashion, Daniel W Fletcher has plenty to get on with while in social isolation, designing a collection for Fiorucci as well as one for his own brand. In his down time, he is taking up a DIY challenge to make a patchwork quilt based on a dress he made during the filming of Next in Fashion, using other designers’ leftover scraps. The design – inspired by concerns over the melting polar ice caps – is an arctic landscape.

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“Ever since the show, I’ve been inundated with requests to make similar quilted items, so I thought this was a good opportunity to show people how they can do so themselves.

“You can make it from any leftover fabrics you have. This time, I used some leftover damaged denim from my studio as the quilt base. I don’t imagine everyone has that lying around so use what you have.

“Heavier is better for the base so it can hold the appliqué – maybe some old curtains or an existing blanket that needs some love. If you don’t have enough to do a blanket, you could use the same technique to make a cushion. For the appliqué, it could be old clothes, tablecloths, tea towels – anything you can get your hands on.

“I went quite abstract with my pattern, but you could come up with a more elaborate design.

“Mine took me five hours on a sewing machine. You could hand sew it instead. It’s going to be a much longer process but could be very therapeutic, which is something we could all do with right now.”

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Difficulty level: intermediate Equipment needed: an old blanket (or similar), scraps of fabrics, thread and needle

How to:

“For the nitty-gritty, head over to my Instagram – my wonderful sister captured the whole process.”

A post shared by DANIEL w. FLETCHER (@danielwfletcher) on Mar 27, 2020 at 12:52pm PDT

Crochet a small rug with menswear designer Liam Hodges

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Liam Hodges has recently moved house, so his time in self isolation has been spent unpacking and making rugs.

“I learnt to crochet last October and have found it really relaxing. For our AW20 collection, we crocheted a lot of squares as embellishments. I’ve kept it up and even tried to make a skipping rope when I first went into isolation.

“I had been wanting to make some rag rugs and started working out how to crochet graphics into them. I made the graphic in Photoshop so that each pixel represented each crochet stitch.

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“I thought doormat-size was perfect. I have mine by the door to remind me to keep positive and take the [government] advice about staying in seriously.

“It took me around two and a half hours to complete and is made up of old, shredded T-shirts for the coloured section and yarn made using Wool and the Gang offcuts for the main black areas, so it is entirely made from waste.”

Difficulty level: intermediate Equipment needed: an old T-shirt, a crochet hook, yarn and scissors

How to:

“Use our how-to digital zine on Instagram, which has the pattern as well as instructions on how to crochet.”

A post shared by LIAM HODGES (@liam__hodges) on Mar 27, 2020 at 4:56am PDT

Sew a shark mascot with designer Christopher Raeburn

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Designer Christopher Raeburn’s team are adapting to the current situation by releasing weekly creative tasks via their #RaeburnAtHome initiative.

“This project is to make one of our shark mascots. We have always featured animals in our collections, initially as a way to highlight and support endangered species through our WWF UK partner. The Shark is one of our most popular animals; we keep it in our collections each season, but it always evolves.

“You need no more than one square metre of fabric – even less if you are conscious of pattern placement for waste reduction. Using a variety of smaller cuts of fabric is encouraged though as this adds pops of colour and texture to the final shark.

“Not only is reusing and repurposing old fabric a more interesting way of working, but extending the lifetime of garments is instrumental in reducing planetary impact. When people are spending more time at home than ever before, now is the chance to pull out those bits that we no longer use and give them new life.

“Unless you are an absolute master, it should keep you busy for about 10 hours. We only recommend a sewing machine for ease and speed – top marks for effort go to anyone tackles it by hand.”

Difficulty level: advanced Equipment needed: a sewing machine, fabric, scissors, thread and paper.

How to:

Sew a kimono-inspired garment with designer Edward Crutchley

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Designer Edward Crutchley’s lockdown aim is to set himself a project each day. His first was to cut a pattern for and sew a one-piece kimono-inspired garment. Next up is making miniature sculptures of the kings and queens of England using modelling clay.

“How to make Japanese clothes by John Marshall is a book I have on my shelf that I thought it would be great to lose myself in during isolation.

“I love traditional Japanese clothing and now is the perfect time to study. What I love about kimonos is that they are traditionally dictated by the fabric – they are the width they are because that is how wide the looms could weave. For a fabric geek like me, that’s a dream.

“A traditional kimono pattern looks like some different-length rectangles put together, but nothing is ever that simple and it takes a lot of skill to construct a traditional kimono properly. The one I made is much, much easier.

“I used three metres of fabric left over from the last collection, but you could make it with two metres if it’s 150cm wide, or you can easily add seams to the patterns or patchwork fabrics together. Repurposing old curtains or a bed sheet would be perfect.

“It took me around four hours to complete – there are only three seams and three hems. I tried to make it as simple as possible.”

Difficulty level: advanced Equipment needed: a sewing machine, two to three metres of fabric, thread, scissors, paper and dressmaking pins.

How to:

“The pattern I made is available to download for free here. The step-by-step sewing guide is saved on my Instagram highlights.”

Make a shrunken crisp-packet necklace with Tatty Devine

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While social distancing, Rosie Wolfenden and Harriet Vine, the designers behind Tatty Devine jewellery, are doing daily making challenges.

“It’s amazing for your mental health and the perfect antidote to these strange and unsettling times. This so-called shrinky necklace is something we did as kids. We first made one as Tatty Devine in 2001. It was very early days, when we made jewellery from whatever we could get our hands on. We enjoyed having to eat crisps.”

Difficulty level: beginner Equipment needed: old crisp packets (not foiled or metallic, such as Chipsticks or many supermarket own brands); a chain necklace (whether new or something you already own); greaseproof paper, a baking tray, a damp tea towel (for safety reasons), an old tea towel, a hole punch, a regular jump ring and two pairs of flat-nose pliers.

How to:

Set your grill to medium.

While the grill is warming, fold the greaseproof paper to make it into rough envelope shapes and pop your empty food packets inside – one wrapper per envelope.

Put the envelopes on a baking tray under the grill. The packet will start to shrink and curl up. You don’t want them to burn or blister so watch closely.

As soon as they are shrunken enough, remove the baking tray, quickly place a folded tea towel on top of the envelope and slam your hand down to flatten your “shrinky”.

Use a hole punch to make a hole somewhere on the packet.

Open a regular jump ring with the pliers and thread the packet on to the jump ring, then put the jump ring on to the necklace and close it.

You can stop with one pendant or layer up for a charm effect.

Knit a scarf with dancer Meshach Henry

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Despite having no previous knitting experience, dancer Meshach Henry has made three scarves in as many days, documented on Instagram by his partner, the Radio 1 DJ Nick Grimshaw.

“I always said I would learn a new skill like plumbing or plastering if I ever had a lot of time on my hands. But they aren’t ideal skills to practice in this current situation. So, having seen knitting supplies in a craftshop window recently, I thought, ‘Here’s my new hobby.’

“I purchased a thick wool because it looked easier to use and less fiddly. I bought 10mm knitting needles, which I thought were an average size but later found out are strangely big – but I’m really happy with the chunky effect they produce.

“What I like about knitting is that you can see your physical product. As a dancer, I rarely get to see my own work, so to be able to see and hold this tangible thing is a whole new world for me.

“My intention is to move on to knitting jumpers. I want to create a matching jumper for every scarf, just to keep things interesting.”

Difficulty level: beginner Equipment needed: knitting needles and wool

How to:

“I taught myself by watching an eight-minute Knitting for Total Beginners tutorial on YouTube. The tutorial taught me how to cast on in the first instance. Then there are follow-up links to a second video that teaches you how to change knitting style and how to cast off.”

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Make drinking glasses with former British Vogue fashion director Lucinda Chambers

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Lucinda Chambers is co-founder of fashion brand Colville and online shopping platform Collagerie and was fashion director at British Vogue for 25 years.

“I was in Paris six months ago having a glass of water in the Bon Marché and I noticed the glass looked suspiciously like the end of a wine bottle.” When Chambers investigated she found a world of home crafters making their own tumblers from pre-used wine bottles.

“I found an inexpensive kit on Amazon,” she says. “Each glass is a labour of love as I sand them by hand; it’s strangely therapeutic.”

Difficulty level: medium Equipment needed: empty glass bottles, a glass cutter kit (available online, for instance from Amazon).

How to:

“The kit has everything you need to make the glasses: a stand, saw and markers that you place on the empty bottle at the height you require your finished glass to be. You can make French-style low tumblers or something taller. Once you’ve cut the bottle you need to sand the cut edge smooth.”

The internet is full of videos, such as this one, that show you more details.

This content was originally published here.

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porcileorg · 5 years ago

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On Monira Al Qadiri’s ‘Holy Quarter’ (Capsule 12) @ Haus der Kunst, Munich (2020-01-31 – 2020-06-21)

Author: Magda Wisniowska – Munich, February, 2020.

Discussing the future The exhibition opening of Haus der Kunst’s ongoing Capsule program of focused one gallery exhibitions of international artists was preceded, as is customary, with a roundtable discussion between the artists and the curators. There were the usual questioning relating to the motives, themes, and ideas behind the work and each of the two artists, Sung Tieu and Monira Al Qadiri had the opportunity to speak. It was when asked by one of the curators to introduce the themes of her work, Al Qadiri said something unexpected regarding her upbringing in Kuwait—and having also grown up in Kuwait, I found it immediately striking. Al Qadiri said that in her work she often uses tropes associated with Kuwait’s pre-industrial past—the desert, pearl diving, camels—because as a Kuwaiti of the post-oil generation, these feel foreign to her. She is, of course, referring to a very familiar postcolonial experience, where the cultural practices different to the coloniser’s normative perspective become exotic, so much so, that for the colonised population, the Western counterpart to their indigenous culture might seem more normal than their own. Yet the term she used was not exotic or foreign, but “alien” in the sense of ‘the extra-terrestrial’ or ‘futuristic.’ What ought to have been part of her cultural heritage, was as distant and unrelatable as future planetary forces.

The Local and the Philosophical I grew up outside Kuwait City in Fintas, in a newly-built modern block of flats close to the beach. Before it was demolished in the mid 80s, on the beach was a mosque and cemetery that we called “old” because it most likely dated from the 50s or 60s. Next to the mosque was a small harbour with fishing boats, around which sat elderly men, most former pearl divers, in small groups. One of these would bring his grandchildren with him and he taught us all how to swim by dragging a tin can in the water. This was 35 years ago. Roughly 35 years before, oil was discovered in Kuwait. In that short space of time, a new state was established, the old town almost completely demolished and a whole way of life destroyed. I recall this memory because the speed of change warrants our attention. Both the elderly man and I were witness to an acceleration of the West’s project of enlightenment, not dissimilar to the kind described by Iranian philosopher Reza Negarestani in ‘The Labor of the Inhuman.’ His brand of accelerationism urges the speeding up of man’s self-overcoming of reason through a continual interrogation of the category of the human. Interestingly in relation to Al Qadiri’s work, this type of rational and experimental labor Negarestani defines as “inhuman.” I would say Al Qadiri’s practice draws on the inhuman impulses lying at the heart of one specific nation’s economic and cultural development.

Alien Technology Al Qadiri’s capsule exhibition at Haus der Kunst consists of two pieces. The first looms large right as you enter, next to the staircase. It is one of Al Qadiri’s Alien Technology series, a massive fibreglass sculpture covered in shiny black iridescent paint. The work’s bulbous shape, which on the one hand, recalls a mythical artefact from a long lost ancient city, and on the other, science fiction, derives from the rotating teeth of an oilfield drill bit. Considering the oil industry’s importance, not only to Kuwait and its economy, but generally worldwide, its shape is relatively unknown and thus lends itself easily to speculation. In its previous smaller incarnations, the work’s connection to the sea was more prominent, its queer symmetry resembling that of a sea urchin or mollusc, but even at the large end of the scale as seen here at Haus der Kunst, the finish of its surface is pearl-like, like one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows.

Holy Quarter Her second piece is the video work ‘Holy Quarter,’ a large scale projection accompanied by a number of smaller glass spherical forms, their smooth surfaces marred - or ornamented, as the case may be - by spikes, nodes and tubercles. The video is of the desert, the so called ‘Empty Quarter’ encompassing much of the southern Arabian peninsula, spreading across the Emirates, Oman, Saudi Arabia, and Yemen. A landscape of ever-shifting sand dunes and gravel plains, its stark bareness comes as a shock even to those accustomed to the desert environments of Omani wadis, Saudi mountain ranges, or even Kuwait’s more modest ridges. As Al Qadiri shows, negotiating this landscape is profoundly disorientating. Early scenes of the cliffs at sunset are followed by views from above and within the earth, so that distance becomes uncertain and we can no longer tell the far from the near. The images are narrated by a disembodied voice, very slowly relating the tale of early 20th century arabist and explorer, Harry St. John Bridger Philby. In 1932 Philby set out to look for the mythic city of Ubar—for him, Wabar—but instead of finding the missing city, after many days of wandering he discovered what he thought was a volcano. In fact, he stumbled across the site of a meteor impact, the surrounding ground littered with black glass and chunks of iron meteorite. Al Qadiri’s narrative identifies the mythic beings of Wabar with the extra terrestrial nature of the meteorite. As the voice states, “We are Wabar, We are the body of dust… We crashed into the sand.” Philby is the “pale man” who “walked across the desert and disturbed our sleep.” In her narrative Al Qadiri also refers to the other famous shooting star, that is seen by the three wise men, and to the frankincense associated with them. Finally there is mention of the discovery of oil in the region, the “black pearl” that threatens the “cradle of life.”

Faster and faster When in his essay for Aesthetics after Finitude, Simon O’Sullivan questions Negarestani’s strategy of abductive interference, he asks how this might look like—if inhuman labor accelerates ever further beyond familiar categories and concepts, how can it be understood from the point of view of the human, who makes use of these categories and concepts? Negarestani finds Peirce’s form of creative guessing one such model, a kind of multimodal and synthetic form of reasoning that dynamically expands its capacities. O’Sullivan calls this “fictioning,” an experimental modelling of different realities that proceeds through imagining and imaging alongside more speculative reasoning. In her video work and sculptures, Al Qadiri produces narratives that fictionalise reality, meaning that their speculation—their play of images and imagining—produces a different model of reality, one less familiar, alien, of the future. Or rather, they draw on the process of acceleration already present in the Middle Eastern post-oil realities to speed it up even further. As the voice of the Wabar in ‘Holy Quarter’ beckons, “So, come with us now, let us choose a different fate together.”

#moniraalqadri #holyquarter #emptyquarter #hausderkunst #2020 #the classical review #stjohnbergerphilby #rezanegarestani #munich #magdawisniowska

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fanfiction-for-me · 6 years ago

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Party in the House

It was a very busy afternoon in the Rad Youth residence, because that night we were having the first party that would introduce us to the world of music and Rock n' Roll. Every notorious band and solo artist we could think of was invited, and the disco room in our estate was set ready to have the time of our lives that night.

Why were we throwing a party, you wonder? Well, little more than a year ago ago we came together as a band when we found Davie on a Café playing guitar and singing. We immediately knew he was the one we were missing and he was integrated as the bassist. Sass and I already had some success and money from selling pastries and sweets back home, enough to move to the US and try to make it here (Ah, the ‘merican dream). It was always our life-long desire to form a band together, and every choice in our lives we had taken to achieve this.

Well, back to the story: after finding Davie and together with our incredible drummer Lila we worked our asses off like never before. It was pretty fucking hard and much tears, sweat and blood had been shed, but eventually we created something we were so proud of. After that we could only pray we get signed for a record deal, which eventually (another 3 horrible months of surviving on instant ramen), we did. What happened after was so unreal. Our debut single blew the fuck up; everyone wanted something from us, people worldwide went crazy overnight... We had made it! Soon we were building our humble home in L.A. at the same time we recorded our debut album. Everyone expected greatness and needless to say, we delivered. Our album sold billions of copies worldwide the first week of its release... something truly incredible for newbies such as us. And that brings me back to now: half a year into the craziness and we start touring in two days... so we’re throwing a party!

I still couldn't believe that less than a year ago Lila, Sass and I were looking for a bassist and a record company to get signed in and now we are a very famous and recognized rock band. Our luck was too much; we were still trying to get used to the whole fame thing and it was already happening. People screamed when they saw us walking on the street and asked us for pictures and autographs, our favorite bands knew who we were and wanted to meet us at our party and there were billboards of our tour on the streets and pictures of us in magazines.

I was currently in my room, thinking about all this and trying to find a dress that would make me look even more gorgeous than I already am, with Sass, who was looking for some matching earrings for her outfit. I finally find this low-shoulder, long-sleeved bubble gum pink dress that was up the knee and splattered with black paint around the hem. It went just perfect with my hair, and I knew exactly the shoes I was going to wear: my high-heeled combat boots.

"Yo, Sass, look here, you like?" I grinned wide at her as I held the dress from the hanger and waved at it dramatically with my free arm.

"Cool dude", Sass laughed and gave me the thumbs up. "This party is gonna be mega epic"

I went inside my closet to put on the dress and talked loudly so Sass would hear me. "I know! Hopefully all the bands we invited come"

"Of course they will bro, everybody wants to meet us; we are like, the lucky noobs in the business"

"Yep, you're right. I'm worried though" I said as I walked out smugly out of the closet with my dress. "Ta-da", I turned as I wiggled my eyebrows at Sass.

"Be-ah-u-tiful my dear" she approved, "but why are you worried?"

"Well-", I walked over to my toilet case and started to take out makeup, the blow dryer, hairspray, earrings... "I dunno, I'm just afraid that I might not be able to contain my excitement and look like a fangirl around them. What if I like, spit my drink when I see Beyoncé, or squeal when Jared Leto walks into the room?" I violently brushed my hair to untangle it, and looked back in panic at Sass from the mirror.

"Oh, you're right. But, I guess we'll be fine. I know I'll probably cry when I meet My Chemical Romance, but you shouldn't worry about meeting 30 Seconds to Mars because you've already seen them in person before. You were paralyzed, but at least you were not going crazy. And if you do go crazy this time, you can fix it." Sass paused and I still looked at her a little uneasy. I'm still not sure if I can keep my fangirly-ness in control tonight.

"We are famous now, Chelita. I bet they will take the time to actually talk with us and hear what we've got to say to them, and not only because of that, but also because we are the hosts of the party, remember? So chill, and go crazy if you want to because I bet that even after that they'll think you are awesome."

I smiled at Sass. She could be overly sarcastic sometimes, but right now she was being honest. "Thanks dude, guess I will be able to handle it"

"Any time my dear". I just finished applying my lip gloss, when Lila and Davie burst into my room.

"Everyone ready to party?!" Lila screamed full lung; Davie following close behind, looking really hot.

"Fuck Yeah!" Sass replied.

"Davie! Show yourself baby" I clapped my hands and moved closer to where Davie was leaning against the wall. When I said that, Davie laughed and stood up straight, walking to the center of the room and jumping on the bed.

He was striking poses like a mad model. "What? Do I look hot today?" he asked with a fake ignorant tone, very conscious that he always looked gorgeous. We tried to not feed his ego for that reason, but today we were allowed to brag our looks because we all looked really good, and we were excited for the coming evening.

Davie was wearing a loose V-neck with cool motives which was way more expensive than you would've thought it was. He had gray aviator sunglasses on, his dirty blonde hair shining like the sun under my pink Christmas lights. His jeans were plain black and he was wearing a chain instead of a normal belt because that's how we roll. Ah, the benefits of being a rockstar: back then when we dressed this way we were looked down as weirdos but now we were setting trends. People can be very stupid.

"Get your butt off my bed David" we all hit him as we laughed and he cussed.

"I thought you wanted to see me!"

"Yeah, we have plenty time for that"

Davie got off the bed and looked down at us "Your turn to model" he chortled and pulled me up on the bed.

We all showed our outfits in between laughs and loud flattering comments. I wore my pink dress and my hair loose. I used to be a brunette but right before we released our album I dyed it Barbie blonde, and just to give it attitude I added a black streak over the longest bang, the one I usually wore over my eye. I really liked the contrast my hairstyle made with my pale face and my dark eyes.

Sass and Lila also changed their look, but it wasn't as drastic as mine. Sass wore a short black studded dress over shredded thighs and combat boots, the dark attire making the purple streaks over her black curls jump out. Lila was using metallic gold shorts, a fancy blouse that had many black and white sequins under an electric blue leather jacket which contrasted beautifully with her pixie orange hair, and of course combat boots. We love combat boots. Even Davie was wearing one of his many pairs.

After we finished modeling, we went downstairs to check everything was okay. The party area looked awesome; the ceiling was covered in disco balls and stage lights of every color. People were still setting the buffet, which was mostly fancy and tasty snacks, and an ice sculpture of the logo of our band stood huge over the center of the long table. The DJ was already playing some test music and the sound of it reverberated throughout the near rooms, making our chests thump to the rhythm of the bass. The bartender looked like he had everything set too. Elegance and Rock n' Roll was our theme; black and red roses that matched with the table mats and chair bows; the dance floor was wide and speckled over with glitter and petals.

In conclusion, everything was perfect. We were chilling around the busy party crew, waiting for our guests who will soon arrive, when the doorbell rang. We all froze for 5 seconds before running to see who was at the door. Our butler Sebastian opened it and it was our manager, Tom Kafer. We all groaned simultaneously, expecting it to be someone famous, but when we watch the door again, Kafer is waving someone in... Lady Gaga?

"Oh my God!" "Holy shit!" "I’m gonna flip!"

We were going nuts; Lady Gaga was in our house! But before we could get used to the fact she was there, Beyoncé steps in with Jay-Z. Then Rihanna. Then Adele. And Bruno Mars.

Aweeesome. I never thought I'd get to see these performers in real life, much less in our own home. We were still looking at the arriving guests in wonder when Kafer made us snap out of it.

"Guys, guys, guys!" he clapped on our faces until we looked at him. He looked pissed (as he does). "What are you doing here sneaking glances like little children? You're supposed to be in the room waiting for your guests and introducing yourselves! Move guys, quick, before they come in; move!"

We moved into the room in a daze. We could hear it was getting crowded by the minute inside. The stars started to come in and we introduced ourselves. Most of them seemed genuinely interested in meeting us, smiling and congratulating us for being "the next big thing at such a young age". Others even looked starstruck by us which was... strange. Soon, there were so many celebrities that we had to split in order to give them the proper attention.

I could see Davie was near the bar talking with Taylor Momsen, Lila was concluding with Katy Perry and Sass was welcoming Adam Lambert. I had just finished letting Fall Out Boy in, so I went over to Lila, who had already finished with Katy.

"So far so good, huh?" I nudged her arm with my elbow as we both contemplated the scene in front of us.

"Yep, our party is pretty awesome, everyone looks like they are having fun" she said with an air of proudness, then, a little down she added "too bad our potential boyfriends probably won't be able to come"

"Yeah..." I felt sort of blue now that she reminded me of the fact that Big Time Rush, one of my favorite bands, was on tour at the moment, and although we had invited them (well, technically, Kafer did), they wouldn't be able to make it because they had a show today. The gig was right here in LA, but they still wouldn't make it after they finished.

"Well, guess we'll meet them some other time... After our 6 month tour" Lila rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, hope James is still available after that" I added.

"Why wouldn't he be?"

"I have no idea, I'm just being paranoid."

"Well, don't be; I'm not. I'm pretty sure James will fall for you the minute he sees you" she teased with a wide grin.

"Ha-ha, you're right, and I bet Kendall will also think you're hot!" I laughed, "too bad they won't see us all dressed up and beautiful like we are now"

"Who knows? Besides, dressed up or not, we always look good cuz we are good looking" she concluded. Lila was right, we are hot. Who wouldn't like a pretty Latina girl? Well... I didn't actually look like a Latina much as Sass did, even less now that my hair was blond, and our spanish accent was only slightly noticeable (studying in a bilingual school for 15 years and then go out to live on the US does that to you).

Lila and I were wondering what song our Big Time Rush prospects could be performing when I almost fell backwards as I saw who was entering the room.

"30 Seconds to Mars!" I screeched and waved my hands frantically over my face. My favorite band was here to see us! Jared Leto, Shannon Leto and Tomo Milicevic entered the room with the confidence only a rock band as successful as them could have. I wish one day we will be like that.

"You have to go and talk with them!" Lila pushed me over in their direction and I almost fell over in my heels, but I managed to balance. I checked myself in my pocket mirror already knowing I looked cute; I did, and with that I walked over to the guys that had inspired me to dream bigger than I've ever imagined I could. I just hope my voice doesn't crack because my lungs feel empty on air.

"H-Hi" I uttered and, dammit, it didn't come out as steady as I wanted.

"Hello there" Tomo, the guitar player said and I almost squealed again.

"Um, I'm Michelle Oviedo the lead singer of Radioactive Youth... I-I'm a great admirer of your work, you have no idea- you-"

"We know who you are" Shannon said with an amused smile.

"You-you do?" my idols knew me? Oh, right! I'm famous... I didn't know they listened to my band though...

"Yes, and we are also admirers of your work. You've got a fine voice right there" Jared winked and signaled nonchalantly at me, but always serious and professional, and, holy hell, Jared Leto said he likes my voice!

"Wow, I don't know what to say and I wish I could stop blubbering because there are so many things I want to tell you and I just don't know what to start with because I love you so much and-"

"How about we start with a hug and then we can go sit and talk?" Shannon suggested, and with that I threw my arms around him and hugged him hard.

Soon I sensed two other pair of arms wrap around me. It felt like that feeling you get when you finally get to your house after a long trip: at home and at peace. I swear I could've cried right there but I didn't want them to think I was weirder than they probably already thought I was, hugging them like a dork and shit.

I spent the next hour gone from the rest of my band and the party, talking with my life heroes about music, our lives and any trivial theme that came in the conversation. I couldn't appreciate what was happening around me because I was having such a great time with 30 Seconds to Mars. They were so funny and even greater than I thought they were. When I finally looked up, curious to know what my bandmates where doing, I could see they were probably having as much fun as I was.

Davie was chilling with the guys of Metallica... Metallica? Whoa, even they were here? Cool, though they look a little intimidated with Davie's over-excitement; poor guys. And holy shit, Sass was laughing at something with the guys of My Chemical Romance! They are Sass' favorite band and one of mine's as well; I'll make sure I go and say hi before the party ends. Lila on the other hand was... Where was she? I can't see her anywhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom or-

"MATE." someone painfully jabbed their fingers at both sides of my waist and with that I knew who it was.

"Oh, God! You know I hate that! I was looking for you, the guys here were-" I gestured to my favorite band before being interrupted.

"Mate!" Lila looked at me wide eyed and solemn.

"What?"

"Big Time Rush" she said unnerved.

"What? No, that can't be; they are in a show, you're seeing stuff-"

"Then who are the guys that are standing there on the doorway?" Lila signaled urgently at the entrance, an expression of lucidity and anxiety combined on her face. Over by the door were Logan, Carlos and our "future boyfriends", Kendall and James; shy expressions on their faces as they studied the space crowded with celebrities.

"How the-?"

"I don't know and I don't care either; they are here and we need to go and talk to them!" Lila grabbed me by my arm and almost dragged me with such a force that always made me wonder how something so tiny has such strength!

"I'm sorry, we need to go and see- you know, they-" I didn't know what to say actually. "I'll be back, just-"

"Go get that boy" Jared winked; smiling suggestively, while Shannon beamed, wriggling his eyebrow and Tomo cackled like a hyena at his expression. How the hell did Jared know I have no freaking idea (am I that obvious?).

I let Lila drag me to where the four good-looking fellows stood up, probably looking for a seat in the crowded place. Before we reached them and they could see us I stopped her. "Wait- how do I look?" I was nervous and insecure all over again. Most of the times I acted over confident and extroverted, because that's how your ideal lead singer should be, but deep inside I was still the shy awkward girl I've been trying to hide and tonight she was coming out pretty often. That made me feel frustrated.

She rolled her eyes "Great, beautiful, whatever; let's go!"

"Don't you want to know how you look?"

"Why?"

"To cause a good impression on Kendall"

"Chelle, they will think we are cute, believe me. And I'm pretty sure I look good; common, I'm wearing a decent outfit today and I have makeup on!" Lila looked at me with an impatient face and I decided to agree even though I was still not sure.

"Yeah, you're right"

"Okay, deep breaths mate and try not to faint".

Together we walked, trying not to fall or do die in the way, for the floor was already covered in the stickiness caused by the drinks dropped when trying to dance with them, and some of it was still wet. The lights were low and the music loud enough so that the boys wouldn't see us coming. Every step took us closer to them and made my hands colder. I could see now that Logan was talking with Kendall about something, Carlos nodding and pointing at what was probably the object of their talk, James stayed silent behind them, tapping his foot and moving his head to the rhythm of the music.

Lila cleared her throat when we were basically in front of them. "Hey, welcome to our party".

The four boys stared back at us and smiled, replying with four different enthusiastic "hey's". I was, on my part, still quiet, until Lila elbowed me so indiscreetly, that even the boys noticed.

"H-hey, um Big Time Rush? Welcome to our party, I am-"

"You're Michelle Oviedo! Better known as Chelle because that's how you like people to call you, right?" Carlos interrupted and damn, I am surprised he is equally excited to meet us than we are. Only Carlos wasn't nervous; does Carlos ever get nervous?

Taken aback, I started to talk again "Um, yeah I do-"

"I'm Delilah Carter, but you can call me-"

"Lila! Drummer right?" this time James interrupted, strong voice making me jump.

"We know who you all are" added Logan.

"We have listened to your album and it's really good" Kendall explained.

"You can't imagine how surprised we were when our manager told us we had gotten invited to your party" said Carlos.

"It's pretty cool to finally meet you"

"Everyone talks about you"

"Logan bought your album twice because I stole the first copy"

"When we saw the video of 'Rebel Generation' Kendall said that-"

Pinch me hard, someone! Was this really happening, or were the BTR guys fangirling over us (well, fanboying in their case) harder than Lila and I over them? We are trying to control ourselves but they just started bombarding us with nice comments! Well, if we did that I bet it would be less "I believe your live performances are neat" and more like "My ovaries explode every time I see you perform Love Me Love Me"; so, on the inside, I guess we are still the biggest fangirls. But we will never let them know that...

"Guys? Guys. Guys... GUYS!" Lila interrupted, looking all cheery and glowing.

"Yes?" the four answered at the same time and for a moment it felt like we were in their TV show.

"Do you want to meet the rest of our bandmates and- if you want- talk later?"

"Sounds great" and Kendall winked at Lila. She glanced back at me and mouthed something that seemed like "omigosh", and looked pretty stoked. I would've been too if James winked at me.

It was time to take action, so I moved next to Logan and James, while Lila was walking in front of us in between Carlos and Kendall. I still couldn't believe we were walking together with the guys of Big Time Rush; if I were seventeen years old again or just nine months ago and you would've told me this would happen, I wouldn't believe it. Our lives had changed so fast and we were definitely living the good life now; I'm so grateful for this moment that I'm not even wishing to be James' girlfriend or something, but just enjoying his and his bandmates' company. Besides, being his girlfriend would be too much luck and I think I already spent all the luck I have in getting to the top with my band.

Now that I was past the shock of the moment, I started to really look at the guys and I wondered... How the heck can they look hotter in real life? I mean, Kendall's eyes have always been beautiful, but here under the flickering lights of the dance floor they blazed a silvery green, and it was something hypnotizing to see. Logan's hair was lighter than I thought it was, and Carlos' smile made me want to smile as well. But James was otherworldly for me. He was everything: sexy, adorable, handsome... gorgeous. He stood a head over me and I swear all of his body was covered in muscles; gosh, he is so hot. He even smells like hotness! (Is that even possible?). It's getting a little warm inside my dress too; I just hope I don't start sweating.

I tried to distract myself by pretending I was looking for Sass or Davie, but my eyes couldn't toss the opportunity of staring at the beauty that was James Maslow, so they turned to see him only to realize that he was staring back. My dark brown eyes locked with his sparkling hazel ones for a second, before he flashed his straight white teeth in a very lovely smile. Was it possible that he was checking me out? I'd like to think maybe, after all, I am kinda cute. Even though I am still almost five years younger than him. Yeah, that's right almost five (four years and a half to be exact). It doesn't sound that weird to me though, because I am 18 and he is 22 right now, and that's not so bad, is it?

I tried to smile back, but my cheeks felt warm, so I guess I was blushing; great. Where are Davie and Sass? I'm humiliating myself here.

"Oh, there they are" said Lila. Davie and Sass where standing by the food table, talking to no one else but the guys from Black Veil Brides, and Sass kinda had a thing for the vocalist, Andy Biersack. She looked sort of annoyed at Davie though, and I bet it was because he was fanboying. Black Veil Brides is one of Davie's favorite bands.

"Let's go and say hi" I suggested. I was still ecstatic for being with Big Time Rush but that didn't stop me from being excited about meeting another band I love.

"Yo guys! These are Kendall, Logan, James and Carlos from Big Time Rush and they wanted to say hi" Lila caught our bandmate's attention and signaled to the group.

"Hello, nice to meet you" Sass replied, but I could see she was a little distracted with Andy laughing at CC's ridiculous dance moves on the background. Andy was pretty cute even though he was wearing all black and had his war paint on. It's possible, believe me, he has a baby face.

"'Sup?" Davie mumbled and turned around to slap hands with the four guys. Then, he addressed Lila and me "Hey, aren't these the guys that you were so sad 'bout that they wouldn't be able to come?"

We looked at Davie with a crazy "you are not supposed to say that in front of them" face. Seriously? Guess our secret was out now.

Lila and I could feel four pair of eyes watching us.

"We kinda like you too... We are Rushers." Lila explained.

"No way!" James grinned at both of us and I reddened more.

"Yeah way" I slurred and laughed a little. "We thought you guys wouldn't come; our manager-"

"Hey, do you have any booze here? My throat is drying up!" Andy called attention to himself with his low and loud voice.

"Sure, come with me" Sass grabbed him by the arm and took him to the bar. Nice to see she was feeling confident!

"Cool meeting you, Big Time..." Andy struggled to find the word.

"Rush" they all answered at the same time

"Oh, yeah. Bye!" and with that he left with Sass.

"Sorry about that" I told them.

"Meh, it's okay, as long as you girls know who we are, its fine" Logan winked. So it is true that he is the flirt of the band...

Carlos bumped Logan on the arm "Hey Loges, let's go and say hi to Selena" "Okay. Hope you girls don't mind being with these two dorks" he pointed a James and Kendall, who rolled their eyes at him.

"No, we're good, go and have fun; that's what we threw this party for!" Lila playfully slapped his arm and we both waved bye at him and Carlos.

Now we were alone with our Big Time Crushes.

"So... What do you want to do?" asked Lila.

"Well, I'm kinda thirsty, could we go for a drink?" suggested Kendall.

"Sure"

"James, you coming man?"

"No, thanks, I'll stay here"

I watched with dread and relief as Kendall and Lila left me by myself with the man of my dreams. We were finally alone; I'd never thought I'd actually be alone with him! But what am I supposed to do? I'm too nervous to think about something intelligent to say or ask so I'll probably stay silent until I figure something out, which will probably be in a long while and I'll bore him out and then bye bye opportunity to seduce James Maslow. All this time while I was panicking in my head, James had been answering a text, and now he was putting out his phone.

"So..." he started

"So...?"

"Cool party." James concluded.

"Yep" and thank God my brain had a question in mind, "-hey, I never knew how come you were able to arrive, I thought you had a show tonight at the House of Blues?" I was surprised that my voice came out casual. Well, it had to; after all, I was the hostess.

"We did, but it got cancelled"

"Mm, too bad"

"Yep, I was pretty excited for it. But being in your party is better, I would've been more upset if I lost this" he motioned around him.

"Really? Why?" I've got to say, I was genuinely surprised.

"Are you kidding? You're just new in this thing and you're already the rock band of the moment, or as Rolling Stone wrote 'the promise of Rock'" he made quotes in the air and chuckled.

"Right, that does sound attractive" I laughed. Did Rolling Stone really write that? "It does. Plus, I had already heard your music and I think it is really good. And I'm not a Rock type of guy!"

"Glad you like it" I smiled "Do you have any favorite song of ours? And don't say 'Rebel Generation' please, because everyone likes that song" I teased him and he chuckled at my comment; I was making him laugh, that was a sign that I wasn't boring him out so I immediately relaxed. Being with James was more comfortable than I thought it would be. I wasn't even noticing the way his lips moved when he talked, or even his large hands, or his beefy pectorals... Well, okay, I was, but which girl wouldn't?

"Well I have a few, besides 'Rebel Generation', of course" James looked at me, looking guilty as charged "' Your Sick Heart' has a great guitar solo and the drums in 'Solstice' are sick! But lately I've been obsessing with 'On my Mind'; that song is plain beautiful"

"You think so? I wrote that song!"

"You did? Well, no wonder why it's so amazing" he winked at me, and I hoped he didn't noticed how my breath came out a little shaky. That man could make my body respond in weird ways.

"Thank You" I responded modestly.

"Welcome; shall we sit?" James offered. I felt like I should tell him something about his band too, since he was flattering mine so much and also, I wanted to do it. We sat front to front on a small table that was next to a wall, far from the dance floor. For a moment we just looked at each other, smiling and shifting nervously, neither of us having something to say. Just when I was about to tell him how much I had liked their latest album, James spoke.

"I like your hair, it's unusual... and it suits you."

"Thanks, you know, I used to be a brunette..." I spoke, not really calculating why he would want to know that.

"Like me?" he questioned with a cocky grin, and as he did so, James flipped his hair with a movement of his head that almost made me start hyperventilating.

"Uh- yeah, sort of, mine was darker I think" I brushed my tips with my hands in a hurry out of a nervous habit.

"Why did you dye it?" I don't really know why would he want to know all that, but he seemed interested, so I answered.

"Well, I thought that I would need a more rock and roll-ish appearance if I was going to be in a band and I chose blond because I have always wanted to be blond for some reason; I thought it would suit me"

"It does," James agreed "but I bet you looked pretty with brown hair too"

He had me now. I didn't know how to respond to that, so all I did was grin at him and blush like the shy girl I was. James just looked at me in my eyes and smirked, a mix of self-consciousness and measured flirting. His perfect tanned face looked soft under the very faint light, and I wanted nothing more than grab him by the collar of his jacket and make out heavily with him. I instinctively bit my lip as I thought about his lips on mine. Big mistake, for we were still making eye contact. The moment I took in that, I stopped doing it, viewing down at my hands, bracelets making noise as they made contact with the table. James was almost in the same position as I was, and before I could steady myself and say something, I stared as his hands moved next to mine touching my bracelets too. If it were any other guy, I would've thought the move was totally random and weird, but since it was James Maslow, I thought it was the best thing ever, of course. My eyes moved up to his face only to see him still eyeing at me with a friendly expression. We stayed staring at each other, and just when his glare moved to my lips (which totally meant something! Right?), our golden silence was broken.

"CHELLE!"

I flinched as I heard my name and then stood up fast from my seat "What?!" to be honest, I was pissed.

"Help me! Please?"

"Excuse me for a minute James?" I said in a sweet tone that was a complete contrast to how yelled just now. James just mouthed a "sure", looking bewildered and slightly curious.

I took Davie a good 6 feet from James and lectured him "David Alexander Tscharke, I was having a beautiful moment back there with James freaking Maslow! What the shit is wrong with you, interrupting like that?"

"Whatever Chelle, I needed one of you; it's an emergency!" I have to admit, Davie did look worried... but I still wanted to kill him.

"Then why didn't you call Lila or Sass?"

"I can't find Lila anywhere; last time I saw her she was talking with a blond guy; Sass is with Andy and she told me that if I bothered her she would kill me!"

I sighed exasperated. Stupid Davie. "What's the problem?" I asked tiredly, hands on my hips. It wasn't the first time, or even the tenth.

"Well, I sort of accidentally knocked someone out."

"What the fuck Davie?" I couldn't help shouting; was he crazy? If someone heard about this it would be on the news and they would see us as a violent band! I'm also pretty sure James heard me, because I could see he was choking a little on his drink. Great, now he will think I have a potty mouth... Although I sort of do.

"Davie, how the hell could that be accidental? Are you insane?" I whispered loudly.

"No! I swear- it really was an accident! I was on the bathroom releasin' the drinks I had taken, when this fat guy with a cam'ra comes and opens the door- I didn't knew it wasn't locked! He must've been a papzz though, cus he had a fancy lookin' cam'ra over his neck an' he snapped a picture of me! PEEIN'!

If I wasn't so mad at him, I'd laugh at what he just told me.

Davie continued his story "So my first reaction was to shoot my fist out right at his jaw, but he moved a litt'l, so the punch landed on his right temple"

"Goodness Davie, why would that be your first reaction?" that was a rhetorical question actually because I already knew the answer. Back when Davie lived in Australia, his house was located near the beach and also near the wilderness of the jungle. He had to know how to react fast to danger (specifically animals). This wasn't exactly dangerous, but it was an "act quickly" situation.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" I couldn't find out why he would need my help.

"You're a woman, Michelle; maybe you could- I don't know- nurse him?"

I tried to give Davie my best death glare as I crossed my arms.

"Aw, common! Look, you can bring your boyfriend over there; he could help too" Davie pointed at James.

"He's not my boyfriend Davie, and in no way am I gonna ask him that!"

"Please! I need someone strong to help me move the guy; he's pretty fat!" Davie begged.

I decided to give in. After all, friends help other friends."Fine" I said curtly, and Davie punched the air in triumph. Ashamed, I made my way back to the table where James was fumbling with the edge of his glass.

"Hey, James? We need your help. Well, Davie does"

"What's wrong?" and I explained the whole story of how Davie had left a paparazzi unconscious for taking a picture of him while peeing. James snickered adorably at this, and in return Davie glared back, which made him shut up. I looked at Davie with narrowed eyes and he let it go.

"Okay then, I'll help you". We all moved together to the "crime scene", where a fat guy (he really was fat) lied thrown on the floor, camera at a side, looking dead to me. I sighed and moved to the floor to check if he was breathing. He was.

"He's not dead!" I informed. Davie sighed a breath of relief and James chortled, earning another glare from Davie.

"Stop that" I warned him again. He was being sort of rude, considering James was helping him.

"But he's laughing!" Davie protested childishly.

"Sorry" James apologized. He was too sweet.

"Don't worry James, I would be laughing too if this wasn't such a stupid situation" I looked at Davie as I made my emphasis and he frowned back at me. I ignored that. "Start moving him before anyone sees this" I ordered.

The two guys proceeded to do so; James shrugged out of his leather jacket to reveal a black button up shirt that hugged around his muscles perfectly. I gawked dreamily, but was interrupted by Davie's low whistle.

James looked between us, confused, and I threw one of the fancy soaps that were near the sink at Davie. The fucker just laughed hard.

"Ooookay... Are we gonna lift him?" James interrupted Davie.

"Yeah, yeah. You grab him by his feet and I grab his arms."

Davie and James started lifting the guy with a lot of effort, and I picked up his camera from the floor. I peeked throughout the pictures and even found some of myself! What was a paparazzi doing at our party anyways? Guess he got served then. After a few more photos I found what Davie was talking about: a picture of him peeing. Luckily, the guy hadn't captured his dick, but you could see the arc of pee coming out of him into the toilet. I couldn't hold my laugh any longer so I burst into mindless giggling.

"Michelle! Stop lookin'!" and with that said, he dropped the fat man on his head, leaving James struggling with him.

"Davie c’mon, you’re killing him! And don't worry, I already deleted it, see?" I showed him the camera. "Now go and carry the dude out".

Davie grumbled, but went back to help James out. I followed both of them as they made their way to the backdoor of our kitchen, enjoying how James' muscles tensed at the weight of the unconscious paparazzi. When we were finally outside, Davie and James laid the guy down against the wall, with his camera a top his belly.

"Phew" Davie breathed "thank you so much Chelle"

I coughed.

Reluctantly, Davie shook hands with James. "...thanks man" What's wrong with him?

"Welcome dude", James answered back.

After a small awkward silence, Davie talked "What do we do now?"

"We? You are going to stay out of trouble and far away from me! Bye." I left Davie with an indignated expression and went back to the party with James. Stupid Davie and his stupid troubles.

Coming into the room, I could see there were more people on the dance floor than sitting down. Sass was still with Andy, watching how he took out his lip piercing with his tongue only. Carlos and Logan were on the dance floor with almost everybody else. The guys from My Chem were sitting with their wives, and Jared, Shannon, and Tomo were playing with the chocolate fountain, those lovely men. It seemed to me that everyone was having a blast, though I couldn't see Lila anywhere and neither Kendall. They probably were together.

I smiled at the thought of me and my two best friends being with our dream boys. Sass with Andy, Lila with Kendall and I was here standing by James' side, his hand touching the back of my arm lightly. Could it be possible that we may have gained them as friends? Even if James had arrived late and Davie had interrupted our "talking", the night was still young, and I was going to make sure it was that way. All of a sudden, I felt more confident. I was finally starting to feel like the beautiful vocalist of the band that everyone wanted to meet.

"What do you wanna do?" James asked me, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Let's go and say hi to My Chemical Romance and AFI first, and then I'll tell you" I answered him with a wink. Yeah, I can feel the fire in me rising!

So we walked over to their sits, talking about our favorite music on the way. I realized James and I didn't share the same music tastes, but at least he really liked my band, and I was happy with that. We said hi to AFI and Davey Havok kissed my hand! After saying goodbye we went over My Chemical Romance. They were sitting with 30 Seconds to Mars (they knew each other from the scene) talking about something. I introduced myself only to be told that they too already knew who I was! It was all going swell until Shannon opened his mouth.

"Is that your boyfriend?" he questioned with a naughty smile, already knowing what the answer was.

"No, no! James is my- he is- James sings in a band called Big Time Rush!" my face was red like a tomato as I tried to explain. I glanced at James to see he was also shifting awkwardly in his feet.

"Yeah, I'm just a friend, right?" James looked at me with a reassuring expression. It calmed my shame a little.

"That's too bad you guys" Lyn-Z (Gerard Way's wife) said, "you would look really cute together"

"Yeah James, this girl here is golden" added Jared as he patted my arm and winked. I felt like I was back with my parents for some reason. Someone shoot me.

"Uh-yeah, I know that" and he smirked at me "but I've just met her this night Mr. Leto" James responded with a shy smile. Was he blushing? (also “Mr. Leto”- what a gentleman!)

"Oh, I'm sorry then, go and have fun" Jared grinned at James. I looked at him with a troubled expression. He eyed me and pulled me up to him.

"You'll thank me. He's pretty obvious, anyway" he whispered in my ear, with James still looking.

What did he meant with obvious? He was being obvious! Whispering in my ear in front of James! I wasn't mad at Jared (how could I ever be?), but I don't see how his comments could've helped.

With that said I excused myself and left before my idols could tell James that I wanted to date him. So much for feeling confident.

"Well...That was-"

"I know, I know... Forgive them. Rockstars aren't known for their great tact" I joked.

"Yeah I noticed" he sucked in a breath and huffed a laugh. Thank goodness he is laughing about it.

"So, um, you wanna go dance?" I heard James ask me.

At first I couldn't believe I was hearing him say that, but then I remembered who I was. Of course he would ask me. I have to keep reminding myself that maybe I am worthy of him.

We made our way to the dance floor, and started dancing to the melody of Neeyo's "Give Me Everything". I found Lila was dancing with Kendall, but they were more concentrated in joking about something than the actual dancing. Sass was trying to convince Andy to dance, playfully pulling him near the stage; they looked so cute together. Best of all, Davie was nowhere to be seen. I just hope he is not in trouble or something (and if he is I'm not going to help him).

We danced several songs, James and I gaining more confidence as each passed. By the fifth song he grabbed my hips and I placed my arms over his shoulders. I was melting, feeling the muscles of his neck; he was too sexy, and up this close, he smelled so good. We stayed like that for almost two hours, trying to keep a conversation surrounded by the loud music, giggling and smiling at each other. When we made eye contact his eyes sparkled with the lights, it was so magical I wanted this moment to last forever. Finally, I felt I couldn't stand dancing with my shoes anymore, so I informed James about it, and we sat down on the bar to grab a drink and chat.

We talked about everything: our careers, our bands (I finally got to tell him how great I though Big Time Rush was), our lives before we became famous (when I told him I had started to study Architecture in college he told me that would've been his career choice too; what a coincidence!), our hometowns, our family, pets, friends, and even school! Time passed fast by his side because it was spent so well. That's why when Logan and Carlos walked over to our table and told him it was 3:30 in the morning and that everyone was leaving, we were surprised. The place was almost empty save for a few bands (with drunken band members) and Big Time Rush.

"Let's go man, I just remembered gotta be somewhere at 9" sighed Carlos. He sounded tired.

"Okay then, go get Kendall, I'll meet you guys at the car" James waved him to where Kendall was, looking at something in his phone with Lila. James got up his seat and I did too. He grabbed my hands with his fingers delicately and squeezed them a little. "This was... fun" his smile grew as he said each word. "It was. I'm very happy I could meet you James, you're cool" and I swung our hands between us.

"I can say the same thing about you" and then he let go off my hands to take his phone out of his back pocket "We should keep in touch, you know, since you're going on tour for a long time... Is that okay with you?" he said this looking nervous.

Okay?! It was more than okay! "Yeah, I would like that too. Here, I'll give you my number" my fingers trembled as I saved my number, even after I had spent all of the evening with him.

"Sweet" James said as I gave him his phone back, "I'll call you- wait, are you going to be out of the US?"

"Oh yes, yes we are, but only a bit"

"Cool"

"Yeah" I smiled.

"Yeah... I suppose I have to leave now" and he leaned down to my level to peck my cheek, taking a second longer than normal. "Good luck and see you... some other day" and with a heart melting smile, he walked away, leaving my cheek burning where his lips had touched it.

Gosh, he is so perfect, and I had spent the night with that perfection! Not only that, but he asked for my number, and we had danced, and talked, and laughed, and-

"Hey, pretty!" Shannon Leto interrupted my thoughts, throwing and arm around my shoulder. I found myself surrounded by the three members of 30 Seconds to Mars.

"Your boyfriend left?" asked Tomo mockingly as Jared chuckled in my ear.

"Aw, you guys are unbelievable. I can't believe you're grown adults and still act like dorks" I pouted at the trio.

"We’re sorry" Tomo said with a more serious tone. "We couldn't help it when we saw you; ahh, young love... so beautiful" he put his hand together on his cheek like a princess. It was pretty funny.

"Yeah, you kids don't seem to realize how both of you want each other"

"Both?" I asked Shannon, but Jared answered.

"Common, he looked like he wanted to eat you and you... I'm surprised you didn't drool on his shoes or something" he laughed lightly.

"Shut up" I told them all. "Are you guys leaving?"

"Yes, we came to say goodbye" answered Shannon, and they all hugged me one by one before leaving.

This night had been great, and I'm still not tired of repeating it in my head; I'll probably keep on repeating it for a long time. I met my favorite band and many others that I love, including Big Time Rush, and I had clicked very well with James Maslow, whom had been my celebrity crush since my Senior Year. Thinking about that, it seemed too far away, when it had just been 2 years ago. If this is just the beginning, I can't imagine what the future has prepared for me and my band.

First album tour, here I come!

#my stories #name: Boyfriend #c1: Party in the House

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