#body language cues sydney

[aangussca]

Art Studio 1 Excursion: ArtSpace, AGNSW and MCA - PART 2 (10.5.24)

MCA: 24th Sydney Biennale

Juan Davila's oil paintings

Row 1: Untitled (2021), Untitled (2023)

Row 2: Untitled (2021), After Image Wilderness (2010)

Description: "Asked why he chose painting, Juan Davila once answered, 'An enjoyment … does not need explanation. Over an artistic career spent lacerating political figures, government policy and state control, the artist has indeed consistently refused to explain himself. From the outset, Davila's paintings have unflinchingly interrogated cultural, sexual and social identities, taking cues from popular culture, political discourse and mythology to create a complex and provocative body of work. Born in Chile, Davila moved to Naarm/Melbourne in 1974 after the fall of the socialist Allende government. However, his work does not suggest what 'should be', instead richly-illustrating the joys, anxieties, shames and triumphs of the contemporary moment. Psychological and psychoanalytic themes are often present, but the artist refuses to articulate or reveal a clear position, prompting us to question our own biases."

Freddy Mamani

Left to right: Diablada (2024, wood coated in gloss enamel), Salon Gallo de Oro (2024, maquette)

Description: "For the past 15 years, Aymaran architect Freddy Mamani has been designing and building Cholets, a combination of the French word 'chalet' and 'cholo', a reappropriated term once used to disparage those of indigenous descent in Bolivia. Interrupting the monotony of the existing cityscape with his vibrant and distinct neo-Andean style, each Cholet recalls the colours, designs and patterning unique to the Aymara culture. The title Diablada, in particular, recalls the Danza de los Diablos, an Andean cultural dance characterised by performers wearing carnivalesque costumes of trickster devil characters. Neo-Andean architecture largely emerged during the presidency, from 2006 to 2019, of Evo Morales, who was Bolivia's first indigenous leader in the country's 200-year history. It can be seen as a consequence of both his economic policies, which empowered a generation of Aymara business people, and of the sense of pride he instilled in the country's indigenous majority. Designed specifically for the needs of the Aymaran people, each Cholet is three to seven storeys high and follows the same essential layout; the ground floor is dedicated to commercial activities, the middle floors to cultural events, while the upper floors are residences. In this way, each Cholet develops and sustains its own economy. As Mamani says, 'this architecture has its own language, its own culture, its own identity'."

Left to right: Sergey Parajanov's The Colour of Pomegranates, (Out-takes and camera tests) (1969, film installation - colour film), Frank Moore's Lullaby (1997, oil on canvas with red pine frame)

Description of Parajanov's The Colour of Pomegranates: "The Colour of Pomegranates follows the 18th-century ashug (poet, singer) Sayat-Nova from his time in Georgia's royal court, love affair with a princess, consequent expulsion and journey across the Caucasus, to his death in a monastery. Transcending both traditional narrative and national boundaries to draw inspiration from across the region, much like Sayat-Nova's songs, the film recalls a series of Persian or Armenian illuminated miniatures. Created in the years following filmmaker Sergey Parajanov's disavowal of social realism and before his 1973 arrest by Soviet authorities under false charges, it contains references to the endurance of cultures across the South Caucasus region (Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, as well as Ukraine) in the face of Soviet oppression. Re-edited by Sergei Yutkevich, a key figure of the avant-garde during the 1920s, his version balanced Parajanov's poetic style with the Gosfilmofond's (Russia's state film archive) demands to make the film more accessible. Thanks to documentary filmmaker Daniel Bird and the National Cinema Center of Armenia, the unseen out-takes from The Colour of Pomegranates were presented at the International Film Festival Rotterdam in 2019. Over a hundred canisters of out-takes have survived despite the Soviet authorities blocking its distribution. Such film would typically have been recycled rather than preserved. Starring Sofiko Chiaureli, who plays six characters, The Colour of Pomegranates left a lasting impact on the film industry and survives as a testament to the power of poetry as a form of resistance across centuries."

Description of Moore's Lullaby: "Ernest Hemingway once suggested that each person dies twice, once when they pass away and again when the last person to remember them forgets. However, if someone is forgotten before they die, then it might feel as if they never existed. This was the reality for those who lived through the AIDS crisis. For years, as people became sick and died America's gay community was ignored by the media and government. Painter and activist Frank Moore, who at 48 died with HIV/AIDS, created Lullaby by transforming his own sick bed into a whimsical landscape populated by a herd of buffalo. Given US President Ronald Reagan did not so much as utter the word AIDS until four years into the crisis, Moore suspected that his community, much like the endangered buffalo, was being left to become extinct. Drawing parallels between the AIDS epidemic and burgeoning ecological crises, Moore believed that this was an apocalypse for himself and those he loved."

Serwah Attafuah's Between this World & the Next (2023-2024, film installation - digital animation (3D computer-rendered models), and e-waste on wooden frame)

Description: "Serwah Attafuah's digital creation unfolds in a near-future Ghana, drawing viewers into an Afrofuturistic vista contrasting colonial remnants with utopian hope. The narrative, propelled by burning slave castles, sinking colonial ships and formidable female warriors, weaves a tale that is both haunting and empowering. This work embodies Ghana's matrilineal legacy, while addressing contemporary issues like e-waste dumping, symbolised by a bespoke frame crafted from e-waste and the incorporation of Sakawa, or 'internet magic. Responding to William Strutt's Black Thursday, February 6th, 1851, also on display, Attafuah delves into West African history, land rights and climate impact on its indigenous communities, fostering a dialogue between historical reverence and visionary insight. Through imaginative storytelling, Attafuah challeges conventional viewpoints and incites reflection, offering commentary on transcending historical bounds. Her avant-garde blend of cultural reflections with futuristic aesthetics establishes this work as a conversation between past legacies and speculative horizons, towards a reimagined future."

BONUS: Maria Fernanda Cardoso's Butterfly Drawings - Morpho didius (Peru) (2004, archival butterfly wings, acrylic, silicone and metal)

Description: "First, I wanted to be a scientist but I used more the model of theRenaissance artist, like Leonardo, which was scientist and artist. So lwent into art thinking that I could do both, I could do art and science." - Maria Fernanda Cardoso

"Maria Fernanda Cardoso is renowned for her use of unconventional materials, which often include symbolically charged elements from the natural world. ...a selection of the artist's butterfly drawings, featuring the insect's delicate wings arranged in mandala-like patterns. Underpinning these works is a system of geometry and repetition. The drawings invite us to look more closely and reflect on our complex relationship to the natural world."

[puppy2dogschool-blog]

If you are bored of seeing for a place to arrange Puppy School Sydney, then all you need to do is visit our website and check out what all we have at an offer to bring the search to an end.

[nyisles]

Magic in the Hamptons

~my first fic be kind~ 

Player: Mathew Barzal 

Words: almost 3.5K 

Warnings: language

Notes: heavily inspired by the dooley-lee wedding, thank you anders and grace. s/o to the song magic in the hamptons being v fitting as well. there could be a playlist for this, but that’s excessive for part one of a fic that might FLOP :-)

         When you had agreed to be your best friend Reese’s plus one to some wedding, you had certain expectations. A night of average (at best) food, middle aged couples bopping along to some outdated party songs (including and not limited to ‘I gotta feeling’ by the once popular black eyed peas) and finally an evening ending around maybe midnight where you’d be knocked out from pure boredom. You’d always found it interesting how being bored could really make a person so tired. With extreme hesitation, you accepted your friends request as a plus one strictly as repayment for the time you had taken him to a miserable holiday party in college. Although when his car pulled up to the most elegant vineyard on all of Long Island, you felt a completely different aura. “And uh… how do you know the couple again?” You questioned suddenly looking down at your dress playing with the hem hoping that you were appropriately dressed. Glancing out of the car window seeing all these tall blondes dressed perfectly walk into the event space that the party would take place in, you gulped feeling a bit intimidated. Reese couldn’t even tell you what black tie optional was, or whether or not this wedding had a dress code and you should’ve never just assumed. “My Dad’s friend’s daughter… Sydney. She’s marrying some hockey guy…Martin… I think.” He said so casually with a chuckle, “I’m bad with names. I’m just looking to slip in, eat a nice meal, drink some free booze and slip out. Mainly doing it for my parents, since they’re away on business someone had to show face for Boomer.” Your eyes scrunched up in confusion, there was just too much to unpack in those simple statements... Martin, Sydney, Boomer... but then as you thought about it maybe for a millisecond more, you slowly found yourself hating how stupid you could’ve been. As a Long Island native, you had just come to terms with the fact you were now facing the IT wedding of the year. The upper crust of your small island would all join in one place, and so would an entire hockey team that your family had found itself rooting for season after season. Leaning back into the leather seats of Reese’s car, you refused to take off your seatbelt, clutching onto the middle console and the handle above the door. “Reese, I can’t go in. I’m…sick. I’m underdressed. I am a no one in comparison to these people. I have…zits, within an hour of being outdoors in a fucking vineyard in July my hair will frizz, and I will smell.” You said going over the top with the dramatics. Something you weren’t typically known for, but this was an emergency. You couldn’t really face these people without feeling well, not confident in yourself. With a roll of your best friends’ eyes, you heard him unclip your seatbelt, after unclipping his own. “(Y/N), slip in… slip out. Do it for me, for the Booms.” Reese said as he popped open the car door for himself. How the fuck had he managed to forget he was family friends with all of these socially important people?

         You absolutely clung next to Reese as you looked around at the beautifully decorated reception area trying to keep a poker face. The venue was just like a pinterest wedding in a barn, but much, much classier. There were gorgeous flowers in almost every shade of pink imaginable, and tables as far as the eye could see. Just beyond that was a large dance floor and a band set up. Of course, there was a band. This was a classy event that no DJ would be able to touch. “Oh look, here we are.” Reese said leading you over to a table filled with little place cards. You tried to quickly eyeball over the names to see what guests would be in attendance, but Reese was quick to find your card along with his. “Table 28.” You muttered quietly picking up your card. “Hush, I promise this will be fun. I won’t leave your side. We’ll be inseparable… now let’s get a drink and try to find this table.” 

         Now that was over an hour ago when Reese had promised to be what you considered a good friend. Now you were maybe two Stella Artois deep. You felt classy when asking the bartender for this beer. This event probably didn’t have your go-to bud light and almost if on cue you heard, “Hey, can I get another two buds?” It only took a second to feel the body whose voice it came from stumble into you a bit as they managed to get to the crowded bar that you’d been at for at least twenty minutes waiting for Reese to return from the bathroom. “Sorry.” The voice said, not managing to look over at you, but oh boy had you looked over at him. You gulped a little after recognizing that face. God, you could recognize that side profile anywhere. You weren’t a crazed hockey fan, but you’d been to enough games to know who he was. Maybe he felt your eyes piercing the side of his face, but he looked over at you with an awkward smile and a nod as he patiently waited for the bartender to find him his drinks. “I didn’t even know they had bud light here, this place just screams classy to which... your drink of choice does not.” You muttered taking another swig of your drink, totally unsure of who you had become after these few beers. A boom of laughter escaped from his mouth, “You clearly don’t know Matt or Syd.” He quipped, reaching over the bar grabbing the two beers from the bartender. “Can you muster up another for my friend over here?” Your new hockey playing bar friend nodded towards you. “I’m Anders… and I don’t think I’ve seen you before, so you’re either family of the bride or…a wedding crasher?” You suddenly felt a little stupid, maybe taking the party too seriously, and unfortunately for you Anders Lee had just pointed that out to you. Settling down your Stella Artois you stuck your hand out keeping your gaze low towards the table top of the bar while your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “(Y/N), and neither… just a plus one who got ditched by her best friend.” Anders gave your hand a gentle shake. “Ah, well stop by table 29, we’ll show you some fun and we all drink bud light.” 

- - -   

         Dinner service was incredible, you sat at your assigned table, one table over from your new friend Anders, but he didn’t seem to notice too much. He was caught up in conversation with who you presumed was his wife. They were sitting close and comfy, so instead of watching them you let your eyes gaze across their table. It appeared that every boy around the table had been more attractive than the one next to him and of course with an even prettier date. The one with the beard – Nick, then the one with the cute gap tooth – Jordan, the blonde – Casey , the one with the sleeve of tattoos - Cal, and then your eyes landed on a much younger one – Mathew. His hair slicked back, a crisp white linen button down covered with a blue blazer and not the boring navy-blue kind. It was a bright enough blue to grab the attention of others, which was exactly the vibe you were getting from him. Someone who liked being noticed. His own eyes were scanning the room and had stopped when they landed on you. A soft smile appeared on his face, lifting up his drink as if to toast yours. Cocky. Anders had looked over at his teammate and caught at his gaze found your eyes “(Y/N)!” He shouted giving you a wave over. They had an empty seat at their table and Reese had been schmoozing Boomer. Apparently his father and Sydney’s dad were very good friends. “Come here kid, you look like you need some fun.” 

        It took you a moment to pull up from your chair, and try to navigate your way around the other wedding goers to an empty chair at the table. “Guys, this is (Y/N). Be nice. No biting.” Anders said jokingly, while narrowing his eyes at Mat. You tried not to blush or think of it too deeply. Plopping yourself down in the most graceful way you could after 4 beers. “Hi everyone, thanks for letting me crash your table.” You said softly trying to give them all a small wave. Everyone then went on to introduce themselves, as if you hadn’t really known them. “We weren’t planning on sitting very long. The dance floor is calling, (Y/N).” Mat said, with your name rolling off his tongue in a way that sent shivers down your spine. God, you’d been single for too long to have this attractive boy speak words to you. It seemed like everyone was already halfway to the dance floor before Mat was standing in front of you putting out his hand to help you stand up. “Well… what are you waiting for. The night is young.” 

        Mats hands pulling your arms around swirling you around, grazing your hips, and all of the above while the band played song after song. For the first time all evening, you felt like you belonged with the crowd and you were having fun. You didn’t have to look at your phone pretending to text anyone for the next hour like you once imagined you’d be doing. At first you thought it’d be weird, dancing with some boy you barely knew, but the way he was casually working in conversation and getting to know you while moving his hips in all sorts of silly ways was soothing for you. Everyone else was in a happy state of drunk to notice Mat’s poor dancing, or yours for that matter. “So, you’re here with some guy, but you’re dancing with me?” Mat leaned over and spoke in your ear making sure you could hear him over the music. Feeling your face flush from both the comment and the fact he was so close to you. “You’re going to kill my ego if you tell me that’s your boyfriend.” Mat said once more in your ear, pointing over at Reese who was at the bar drinking and talking to some older men. “He’s not my boyfriend. Just a friend from college that needed a plus one. I’m pathetically single!” You said leaning back in to him, your lips practically on his ear. As soon as you spoke your last sentence you cringed, at least internally. You had to keep a poker face. You managed to make yourself feel like you were back in high school with that silly comment. Mat was so cool and you couldn’t even formulate more than one coherent, non-embarrassing sentence at a time. “I’m glad to hear that.” was all he said placing his hands on your hips helping you sway along to the classics. ‘Come on Eileen’ was playing and right as the breakdown hit, Mat moved his hands from your waist to grab your wrists, holding your arms up as he sang right in your face. “At this moment, you mean everything! You in that dress...” You couldn’t help but laugh and sing along with him and the rest of the wedding guests. “Mat, let’s get a drink.” you shouted over the music as the song came to a close.

        He ordered two more beers, and you thought tonight you might potentially die of alcohol poisoning, or worse, make a fool of yourself in front of the most beautiful boy you have ever met. “I’m having a lot of fun with you, so thank you.” Maybe when you get drunk you get sappy, but you genuinely meant it. Staring at Mat’s features you tried not to get lost in the way his eyes followed your lips with every word, or the way his jawline seemed to be so defined, or even the way his hair was tucked behind his ears because it was becoming far too long and unmanageable. “It’s nice to hang out with a pretty girl.. And come on, you’re fun. Don’t act like you haven’t been destroying it on the dance floor. ” He spoke finishing his sentence with this laugh. This seemingly annoying laugh that was maybe a little too loud and obnoxious though none of the wedding goers seemed to notice as they all were enjoying themselves. Right now they were doing the electric slide on the dance floor, and couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to whoever you were and Mathew Barzal. “It’s very attractive, to see someone being themselves in a crowd of people they don’t know.” He leaned his big body against the bar, still facing you waiting to see what you had to say. It took a few seconds for you to muster up your thoughts, trying to come up with something not totally pathetic. 

        “You’re such a flirt.” was all you managed to come up with, “Don’t use those lines on anyone else, Barzal. I need to feel like I’m the only girl you’ve picked up at a friend’s wedding.” He licked his lips after taking another swig of his drink. God you really just wanted to kiss his stupid face when he did that. “You are! I pinky promise.” He responded sticking out his pinky finger, attaching it to your own momentarily. “Give me your phone, I want you to have my number.” He grinned pulling out his iphone from his back pocket handing it over to you. “(Y/N), unofficial wedding date… Love the contact name” Mat said reading from his phone as he got it back with a dorky grin. Right as you were about to open up your mouth and try to lay it thick, the rest of the Islander crew made their way to the bar. Nick slapping Mat’s back, and the rest of the boys immediately grabbing more drinks. “We’re about to head to the after party. I heard Marty got McDonalds to cater, and Trotzy doesn’t even have to know about it.” Nick called out. “Anders said he’d keep it quiet too.” Jordan said to Mat, as he looked over to you giving you cheeky grin. “You can probably bring your new plus one.. If she wants.”

 - - -

        Shuffling onto the party bus with the rest of the Islanders and their wives or girlfriends or friends was just… different. You didn’t necessarily belong, but Mat was doing everything in his power to make you feel like you did, much like he had at the wedding. He’d continued to introduce you to teammate after teammate, especially as you all piled on the bus. Matt and Sydney probably didn’t account for an extra person, as there was only one seat left by the time Mat was done introducing you to everyone. “Are you sure it’s alright I’m here? I don’t think Reese left yet and he can drive me home.” You gently whispered, not wanting to be a bother. Instead of responding, Mat slumped himself down in the seat, grabbing your waist and having you sit on his lap. For someone whom you’d met hours ago, it all felt very comfortable. “Safety first, gotta keep the prettiest girl on the bus safe.” He kept his arms tightly around the waist as if to mimic a seat belt. Leaning his head on the top of your shoulder, resting his eyes shut. The compliment made your face flush, but he wouldn’t see that. “Can’t take you home if we don’t make it there first.” Mat said speaking against the back of your neck. 

        “Barzal, eyes open! The night has just started.” You heard one of his teammates scream at him, leaving you no time to respond to his much steamier comment of the night. Turning back and looking at his face, you saw him slowly open up his eyes, looking at you rolling his eyes. “Their right you know, can’t take me home if you fall asleep.” you quipped back. One of his arms moved from your waist to the back of your neck dipping your face in close to his for a kiss. In that moment you forgot you were on a party bus surrounded by other people. You sunk into his lips perfectly only letting it last a moment before deciding you didn’t want to make a show. “(Y/N), shut up.” Looking around the bus quickly it seemed that no one noticed, and if they did, no one seemed to care. 

        Music blared across the small bar, solely filled with those of you who had come right from the wedding. Sydney had changed from her beautiful ball gown of a wedding dress to a much shorter, tighter party dress. The hockey men had all managed to unbutton their shirts, whipping them off dancing around. The party was quickly becoming everything you’d seen on instagram. Your eyes widened at what was going on, and you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Welcome.” the voice said as you turned, fully expecting it to be Mat trying to pull you off to some corner for more dancing or drinks, but it wasn’t. “I’m Grace, that one…” she said pointing at Anders, “he’s my responsibility for the night.” to which you both chuckled knowing it was her own special way of introducing herself as the wife to The Captain. “It’s nice to see a fresh face around here. Mat’s always so mopey when we go out and are all coupled up.” 

        “Well we just met today…” You said looking at Grace, and then past her to see Mat dancing wildly with his teammates with a schoolboy grin on his face. There was something about him that was just so intriguing, something that made you want to be around him because he had this infectious personality. “He’s a great guy, (Y/N). But can I give you a piece of advice? Don’t go home with him. Mat’s attention span is so small. I can see he likes you, and maybe you can be someone special...but if you leave with him, he won’t call tomorrow. He won’t text.” Soon another couple of girls appeared, more of the wags you assumed. They wouldn’t have made it into the bar if they weren’t friends of Sydney or Matt’s. “Same thing happened to me, with Casey. It took a lot of work to become something serious… not to be nosy.” A different blonde said with a shrug. You assumed she had to be Kristy, married to Casey Cizikas. “Hockey boys are the same. You give in easy, and you’re just another sucker.” 

        “Amen, sister! I’ll make Josh order you an uber home. And then, we’ll add you to our group chat, if Mat misses out on you, at least we have a cute new friend.” Megan Bailey added in giving your shoulder a squeeze. All these pretty put together blonde women wanted to be your friend, and it didn’t make sense but you went with it. Grace quickly nudged the side of Megan seeing Mat coming up from behind, not wanting to spoil your quick gossip session “You ladies done stealing my date?” 

        “Let’s dance.” You said immediately grabbing his forearm dragging him onto the dance floor trying not to let what the girls said get to you. They did seem to have an idea of how Mat would be. Even if it wasn’t in your intentions to go out and have a serious relationship with this boy, you at least wanted to see where things could progress. It hasn’t taken much for you to find your crush growing infinitely. Dancing was exactly what you both did for the rest of the night, intermixed with casual make out sessions in a side hall of the bar leading to a bathroom, and downing a few more drinks. This boy had you hooked, and now you really couldn’t leave with him if the girls knew what they were talking about. You needed him to want to text you tomorrow, to take some sort of an initiative. 

      So it was 6:30 am before you got home, in fact, Josh Bailey ordered you an uber from the after party (as promised by Megan, your new favorite human, no one else pounded back margaritas, made you feel at home, and offered to take you shopping quite like she did). Mat managed to sneak a kiss goodbye before you wobbled into your uber. At exactly 7:03 am he sent you a text, ‘had a great time’. That was it. It felt like it was missing more substance, Mat was acting like you were his date and that you’d known each other forever. Though you promptly answered, and waited. And waited. And waited some more. And you’d wait three more weeks until you were to receive another text from Mathew Barzal. That’s exactly when your life was totally and royally fucked. The girls were right, he was a challenge and  right as you had almost forgotten this special evening, he made his presence known. 

Mat Barzal: hey. 

[alexander-turners]

Roger’s Little Family

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x Reader)

Summary: Roger returns home at 3am and finds you and the kids sleeping together. He spends some quality dad time with his children in the bed. Also a puppy named Sprinkles makes an appearance.

Wordcount: 2224

Warnings: fluff, dad Roger (is that a warning?), implied smut

A/N: I’m so sorry if there are any mistakes. English is not my first language.

I hope you guys like this one. It’s like a prequel to my other fic Home Is Where the Heart Is but it’s a sequel to Skin-to-Skin Contact. But they can be read in different order too. Tell me what do you think ;)

Gif credit goes to owner/maker.

Roger unlocked the front door as quietly as possible. You and the kids were probably sleeping; after all, it was 3 in the morning.

Finally, he managed to carry his huge suitcase inside the house. He let out a deep breath, eyes roaming around the dark hall and the stairs. “Home Sweet Home,” he whispered before making his way to the kitchen.

As he reached the kitchen Roger turned on the lights, but immediately regretted it. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness outside and the lights only hurt his eyes.

Reaching over his head, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. He lifted the glass towards his lips but something on the fridge caught his eyes.

Roger left the glass on the counter and walked to the fridge. Usually, it was covered with magnets all around the world – New York, Sydney, Rome, Paris; polaroids of Roger holding baby Ben and Sophie, silly family pictures. Also, you would put some of Ben and Sophie’s drawings and new photos which Roger hadn’t seen because of the touring. You would pin them using the magnets.

He grabbed the first new photo and squinted at it. It was Sophie’s. Her face was covered with chocolate ice cream but her smiling face was enough to make him happy. The next photo was you and Ben making kissy faces to each other. Roger let out a chuckle and pinned them back.

You weren’t Linda McCartney but your photography skills were as good as hers.

Roger drank his water, washed the glass and left it on the drying rack. He turned off the light and grabbed his suitcase, walking up the stairs.

He passed the kids’ bedroom, knowing where they were. As he reached the bedroom you and he shared, the drummer opened the door very quietly. And there we you and the kids, asleep in the king-sized bed. His son was sprawled on his side of the bed. You loved to joke that Ben was sleeping exactly like him, which meant like a dead person, nothing could wake him up.

You were snuggled with Sophie but your left hand was touching Ben’s chest too, just to be sure he was there.

As much as he loved recording, touring he was most happy with you, Ben and Sophie, with his little family. Damn him when he said to John ‘Your “Best Friend” song sucks” almost ten years ago, because he was wrong.

Roger left his suitcase next to the door and took off his jacket. The sound made Sophie shift in your arms, Roger stopped moving and his daughter fell asleep.

Throwing the jacket over his suitcase, the drummer made his way to the bed. He sat quietly on the bed. Ben was not only sprawled on the bed but also he kicked the covers. There was no need for a DNA test, Ben was his son. Roger himself would kick off the covers when he’s sleeping alone.

The blond drummer tucked him in, then leaned down and kissed Ben and Sophie’s foreheads. To kiss you Roger got up and went to your side of the bed because he didn’t want to squish Ben and Sophie.

The bed sank down when he sat. First, he removed a piece of hair which has fallen over your eyes, then he kissed your forehead and lips.

That woke you up. You slightly jumped and stared at the person next to you. You were ready to scream but when he spoke and you calmed down.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry I woke you up, love.”

Roger grabbed your outstretched hand and kissed it, “Rog, you scared me.”

“It wasn’t my intention,” he whispered, kissing your lips. “I will take a quick shower. You go back to sleep.”

You sighed sleepily but nodded, pulling him by his shirt to kiss him one more time.

Roger broke the kiss and pushed you back towards the pillow, you both chuckled, “Go back to sleep, love, it’s late.” he mumbled.

You lied back; Roger covered you with the blanket then went to Ben’s side, who had pushed the blanket again. After tucking him in, the drummer undressed silently, grabbed a white t-shirt and black boxers from the drawer and got inside the bathroom.

The shower helped a lot; the hot water calmed his sore muscles and increased his desire for sleep. Nothing could replace sleeping in bed than sleeping on the plane. Nothing could replace sleeping in his own bed with you and of course sometimes with the kids too.

Roger got out of the shower with a towel in his hand, drying his wet hair but something in the bed has changed. This time Ben was sleeping next to you and Sophie on his side of the bed. The drummer blinked a few times, still trying to figure out how this happened. But he let it go, threw the towel to his suitcase and got in the bed.

You let out a tiny sigh and hugged Ben closer to you, probably thinking it was Sophie. Before closing his eyes he kissed both of his children’s foreheads and your lips.

Sophie clutched herself to her dad like a koala; Ben did the same thing to Sophie. Roger smiled and closed his eyes. Sleepily his hand reached for yours and squeezed it.

Before drifting off he felt your hand squeezing his.

***

Ben opened his eyes and rubbed them, trying to wake up. He watched you sleeping, a mischievous smile appeared on his beautiful face. He raised his hand and booped your nose. You shifted in your sleep but didn’t wake up. Ben chuckled, he wanted to do it again but withheld himself. Instead, he peeked over your head at the clock. It was 9:15.

He still remembered how Grandma Winnie taught him the clock and how to recognize what time it was.

Ben turned to Sophie, he was ready to wake her up as well but when the boy saw his dad sleeping next to his sister his blue eyes widened.

He started shaking Sophie, at first gently but a few moments later more forcefully, he started whisper yelling too.

“Sophie, wake up!” the blonde girl opened her eyes reluctantly, “Daddy’s home!”

Sophie blinked, still sleepy, “What?”

Ben pointed at Roger, whisper yelling once again, “Daddy’s home! Look!”

The three-years-old girl turned around and her eyes almost fell from their sockets.

Ben helped her to up and both of them started jumping up and down, yelling “DADDY’S HOME!” as loudly as they can, neighbors were probably awake now.

Which woke you and Roger as well.

When the siblings saw that their dad was up they threw themselves over his body.

Roger grunted loudly as his kids’ bodies landed over his. You, on the other hand, were laughing, it was the funniest but also the most heartwarming sight.

“Daddy, you are home!” Ben and Sophie said at the same time.

“Yes, I am.” he smiled as his kids sat between him and you.

“When did you come?” asked Sophie, as she held his right hand in her tiny ones. She’d help him later put some cream over his blisters on his hands.

“Last night, you were sleeping.” they nodded, “So tell me what did you and mommy do when I was away.”

Ben and Sophie started speaking together; their arms outstretched gesticulating like crazy. No one could figure out what they were saying, even the best lip-reading expert would fail in his job.

Roger held out his hands laughing, oh god he had missed this, yes he had seen you and the kids three weeks ago when he returned home for a few days for Sophie’s birthday, but he still missed it. The craziness, the never-ending questions from them, how they talked together when they were excited.

“I can’t understand what you are saying,” you laughed and moved next to your husband.

“Daddy wants you to speak in turns, can both of you do that, please?”

“Thank you, mommy.”

Sophie looked at Ben and whispered something in his ear, your son nodded and jumped out of the bed dragging his little sister behind.

“What was that?” Roger chuckled.

You kissed his cheek, “You will see. They want your approval to keep something.”

He hummed, pulling you to his body; you chuckled breathlessly as he pressed his lips over yours. But for his taste, the kiss lasted less than two seconds.

“Roger, the kids are in the house and they will return any second,” you warned him.

“That didn’t stop you three weeks ago.” he reminded you.

Your cheeks turned red, god he loved making you blush, “Shut up, the door was locked then and it was middle of the night.” you looked over your shoulder, as you heard your children’s voices, “They’re coming.”

First Sophie entered the room, she jumped on the bed and asked with her sweet voice, “Mommy can you tell daddy the story how we got Sprinkles?”

“Sprinkles?”

“Of course, sweetie.” Ben entered the room too; he was clearly hiding something under his t-shirt, the thing was moving and squirming.

Roger’s gaze moved from you to Ben and back to you.

“Rog, you know Mrs. Eastman, right?”

Mrs. Eastman was your neighbor, she is in her 70s, a very nice old lady who would look after Ben and Sophie for a few hours when you and Roger are working at the same time.

“Yes,” he answered but didn’t quite catch where this conversation was going.

“So you know Mrs. Eastman has a golden retriever named Lucy right?” he nodded finally figuring out what Ben was probably hiding under his t-shirt. “A few days after you left Lucy had 5 puppies,” Sophie held out five fingers, which made Roger smile, “and she gave us one of the puppies as a gift.”

As a cue, Ben jumped on the bed and pulled the small golden retriever puppy under his t-shirt. “Please, daddy can we keep it?”

“Pretty please!” Sophie wrapped his arms around his neck, it always worked, she knew it and damn it Roger knew it too.

You and the drummer exchanged a look, you smiled and shrugging.

“Mommy agreed on keeping Sprinkles but she said you have to agree too,” Ben explained, petting the puppy. “And Sprinkles is a boy, like you and me, daddy.” Ben gave his dad a toothy smile.

Roger looked at the distance, like he was thinking, “I would agree on two conditions. First, he won’t be sleeping on this bed or yours, okay?” his children nodded, “Second, what kind of name this that? Sprinkles? We better change it if he will be staying with us.”

“No!” the children yelled.

“His name is Sprinkles!” Sophie yelled.

“But we didn’t hear daddy’s answer,” you interjected which made your kids stop talking and looking at Roger with hopeful eyes, “can Sprinkles stay with us?”

“Yes, he can.” Ben and Sophie jumped on him, kissing his cheeks. “Okay, okay, now go wash your faces and play with Sprinkles until mommy and I make breakfast.”

They stormed out of the room, the last thing you heard was Sophie’s muffled voice and Sprinkles’ tiny bark.

“Fuck Y/N, I just allowed them to have a dog,” he laughed.

“Technically it’s a puppy, Rog.” you kissed his lips, making him sure that what he did was right, “It’s good for them to have a dog at home, it’s good for their self-confidence and can reduce their anxiety and depression.”

“Babe, you sound just like Brian.”

You hit him playfully, “Oh, shut up. We gotta get up,” Roger’s eyes landed on your exposed stomach as you stretched, “make breakfast.”

Roger hummed, eyes still on your exposed tummy, “Do you think we have some time for a quickie?”

“Rog, the kids are probably in their room…”

“Playing with Sprinkles. How did he get that name?” he asked casually when his hand went under your t-shirt but he only caressed your stomach.

“He ate the sprinkles Sophie gave him.”

The drummer let out a snort and shook his head, “Those kids will be the dead of me.” he murmured, before asking, “Do you know that they’re switching their places while they’re sleeping?”

You pointed a finger at Roger, “I knew something was off, because a few days ago I found Ben sleeping at the other side of the bed,”

“Why am I not surprised,” Roger admitted, “last night when I came home you were hugging Sophie and after I showered and entered the room you were hugging Ben,” the drummer nodded to confirm because you were shocked, “I still don’t know how it happened.”

You shook your head, “Wow, I’m shocked…”

“Yeah, me too.” The drummer took a deep breath, as his fingers made their way to your boobs, “So, do you think we have time for a quickie?”

“No, I don’t think so, Rog,” You kissed Roger’s pouty lips, “I promise to give you the most unforgettable blowjob after we put the kids to sleep.”

His eyes widened in shock and desire, “More unforgettable than the one you gave me on my 30th birthday?”

“We will see, but you have to wait, Rog.” you left the room after winking at him.

Roger lied down on the bed, chucking to himself, “It’s good to be back.” he whispered and got up.

Tagged: @rogmeddows @ohtheseboysilove​ @witchbloodsworld @liamarietayor @benders-diamond-earring

[dragonknightofsummerset]

Every Little Detail (AidenxMC)

Updated!

I do not own PB’s High School Story. This is simply a fic I had in mind. My MC’s name is Alma Lee. They’re 18/19 in this fic, however other than suggestive themes, NOTHING NSFW will be occurring. I changed the story a lot from the original one I posted. Aiden is back in town for Alma’s graduation. They discuss what comes next in their relationship.

Rating T, 1,752 Words

“Alma-bear, get up! You don’t want to be late to your own graduation!” My dad calls from outside my room. I shout back enthusiastically, “I wouldn’t dream of it!” I take a quick shower before looking through my closet. My eyes land on a lacy burgundy dress. This will do.

Graduation day has arrived and I’m feeling excited but also nervous. A part of me was excited to see both Aiden and Maria again. I had missed both of them as friends. But an even bigger part of me missed Aiden in different ways. Sure he came over during holiday breaks, but those short days were spent with friends or family, we didn’t get much alone time. I was looking forward to tonight since Aiden told me he planned something special for me.

After my dad drops me off, he takes off towards the parking lot. Hopefully, he’s able to find his seat. Once I enter the gym, I automatically spot Sydney and Myra waving me over. I smile and head over to them. “I can’t believe it’s graduation day! I’m so nervous but in a good way!” Sydney exclaims. Myra adds in, “I’m more excited! Especially for tomorrow night! Since I know not everyone will be able to meet up tonight, I’m glad Caleb suggested we have our own graduation party. But at least we will be able to see Maria and Aiden today either way.” I smile and nod in agreement. Soon Ms. Maddox is ushering all of us to get into formation so we can walk out onto the field just like we had practiced in the past couple of days.

Before I know it, Principal Hughs is calling out my name. I go up to shake her hand while accepting my diploma. I instantly hear my dad, and am a bit surprised to see he had reserved a seat in the front row. He must’ve done so when filling out the ticket order himself. That’s when I notice Aiden next to him, his parents on the other side of him. I freeze for a moment. Everything around me fades and all I see is his brilliant smile as he claps.

I quickly make my way back to my seat, before anyone notices that I had been standing there for too long. I can feel the smile spread across my face. My dad and Aiden must’ve planned this. The rest of the graduation ceremony goes by in a blur for me. The whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Aiden again.

As soon as the ceremony finishes, I jump out of my seat and rush to where my dad is. When I spot him, I rush up to him and hug him. “Congratulations, kiddo! I’m excited to see you too, but there are a few people who would like to congratulate you,” He pulls away so he can gesture behind him.

My heartbeat quickens in my chest as I slowly look over to where he is gesturing. I see the hint of a blush on Aiden’s cheeks as he smiles at me. His parents quickly step forward, “Alma! Congratulations!” I’m a bit surprised when Aiden’s mom pulls me into a gentle embrace. “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Zhou.” She chuckles and corrects me while letting go, “Please, you can still call me Bridget.”

I smile warmly as I turn to Mr. Zhou and shake his hand. I can’t help but comment, “So, should I be thanking my dad for inviting you all?” Aiden’s parents share a look before clarifying with a chuckle, “Actually, Aiden insisted we join him. He told us how he asked your father a while back if it’d be alright to sit with him during the ceremony.”

I look over and see that Aiden has gone tomato red while rubbing the back of his neck. “Aww, Aiden.” I walk over to him and wrap my arms around him while burying my face in his chest. I whisper, “I’ve missed you. Thank you.” He lets out a small chuckle at my comment and slowly wraps his arms around me, “I’ve missed you too, Alma.”

I know I should pull away soon, but I don’t want to. His all too familiar scent makes me feel safe and I’ve missed the feeling of having his arms wrapped around me. I’m about to tell him something else when I hear someone call my name, “Alma!” And that would be my cue to let go of Aiden. I look over and see Maria heading for us with some of our friends behind her. I run up to her and give her a big hug while exclaiming, “I’ve missed you! I’m glad you made it!” While I’m busy talking to Maria and accepting handshakes from my friends’ families, my dad is talking to the Aiden’s parents.

Apparently, they were discussing plans for dinner. The five of us end up going out to dinner together. We plan to meet up at the restaurant. “I’ll see you in a bit then,” I murmur to Aiden before pecking him on the cheek. I follow my dad to the car and we head off.

Between comments from our parents about how we grow up so fast, questions about if I’m excited for college and Aiden talking about his first year at college, the dinner goes by quickly. Soon dinner is over and we’re out in the parking lot saying our goodbyes. Aiden stops my dad and asks, “If it’s alright Mr. Lee, I’d like to take Alma out. It’ll only be for a few hours.”

“That’s fine by me. You two have fun…but not too much fun.” Aiden goes red as I exclaim, “Dad!” He chuckles, “I’m only kidding. I’ll see you tonight Alma.” I give him a quick hug, “See you later, dad.”

After our parents drive off, I turn to Aiden and ask, “So, what exactly do you have planned?” He smiles as he takes my hand, “I hope you don’t mind that we have to walk there, but I thought we could take advantage of this warm night.”

“Well, aren’t you romantic?” I tease as I loop my arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” He teases back as he leans down a little. “Always the charmer,” I murmur playfully before closing the distance between our lips. I can’t help but sigh into his mouth as he deepens the kiss. He whispers above my lips after pulling away, “Alma, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from, but, I really want to see where you’re going to take me.” He gives me one more quick kiss before sighing, “Alright, if you insist. Let’s go.” We walk hand in hand, occasionally breaking the comfortable silence to ask about what’s been going on in our lives recently. Even though we would try hard to skype as much as possible, there was only so much we could say during a thirty minute call.

In no time at all, he points out that we’re getting close to our destination. I recognize this path as the one that leads to the beach. But instead of going through the main entrances, he leads us to an unseen path that goes up. “It’s worth the walk,” He reassures me before continuing. I give his hand a gentle squeeze, letting him know that I trust him.

Finally, we reach the end of the trail. The sight before me is breathtaking. All I can see for miles is the ocean and the starry night sky. “Wow…” I breathe out as I slowly let go of Aiden’s hand to walk a little closer to the edge. He speaks softly, “I found this the last time I was in Cedar Cove. I wanted to show it to you the next time we were together. I know you love views like this.”

“Oh, Aiden,” I turn around and fling my arms around him while planting a kiss on his lips. He’s taken aback but quickly recovers and kisses me back. “I’m glad you like the surprise. I was worried…”

The mood suddenly shifts to a more serious one. “What’s wrong, Aiden?” He takes both my hands into his, hesitating for a brief moment. “Alma…do you still want to be with me?”

“Why would you ask me that?” I feel my eyes begin to well up as I start thinking that maybe he doesn’t want to be with me. “Of course I do! Don’t you?” He pulls me into a hug then, exclaiming, “Of course I do! It’s not that. I just…I’m scared, honestly. I don’t want you to regret staying with me. I want you to enjoy your college experience and not feel like you’re stuck with me.”

“Aiden, I want to be with you. I don’t know how things will be in the future, but we’ve already gone through a year of long distance, and here we are. Going to different schools isn’t going to be much different. I’ll still make time for you and we’ll have so much more to talk about. Like I’ve said before, a relationship is a two way street; we both have to be willing to put in the effort.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. Of course I’ll put in the effort. I want to be with you just as much. I guess I was just starting to feel insecure again, what with you being so far away from me and around so many new people-” I cut him off with a kiss.

“You have nothing to worry about, Aiden. Now, I was promised an activity that didn’t require as much talking but still involved our lips?” I say as I smile coyly at him. He smiles back at me, the hint of a blush visible on his cheeks. “You mean something like this?”

Aiden briefly nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck before planting a few kisses there. I gasp lightly before teasing him, “Aiden…as nice as that feels. You know that’s not what I meant.” He laughs softly against my skin before kissing his way up to my mouth. “I know. I just. Want to. Enjoy. Every moment. Every part…of you.”

We cave in to our desires. Letting our body language speak for us. The only moment we break the silence is to say, “I love you,” to each other.

[sophie-zadeh]

Ums and Ers in Speech: Should we be concerned?

Fillers in conversation, like ‘um’ and ‘er’, tend to be viewed negatively. However, there’s plenty of evidence that they serve a valuable purpose during communication. In this article, we’ll look at some of the suggested meanings behind these discourse markers, with the aim of breaking negative connotations.

If you’re aware of your use of these utterances and are concerned about how you use them, hopefully, I can put you at ease.

‘Um’ is also known as, or can sound like, ‘em’ or ‘mmm’.

‘Er’ is is also known as, or can sound like, ‘uh’ or ‘ah’.

Vocal Delivery is an area of Nonverbal Communication

A large area of nonverbal communication is vocal delivery—how we deliver our words. This area includes speed, pitch, volume, intonation, inflexion, etcetera—anything that isn’t an exact word. When people struggle with the concept that nonverbal communication forms the majority component of our communication, it’s usually because they think of body language and facial expression as nonverbal communication, not realising the vocal delivery is also a key area.

A statement can take on different implied meanings, depending on where the vocal emphasis is placed. Let’s take the statement, ‘I didn’t say he lost his car’, try saying this with emphasis on each word in the statement each time you say it. It sounds different each time.

Every time you shift the emphasis to another word, consider what the implied meaning could be.

For example, if the emphasis is placed on the word ‘car’, the implied meaning could be that ‘he’ lost something else, not his ‘car’. Perhaps he lost his ‘card’. What else could be implied by this single, short statement? This is one way nonverbal communication adds meaning to verbal communication.

Since utterances like ums and ers are not exact words, they fall under the umbrella of nonverbal communication. That said, some researchers would argue that the meanings of these utterances are so specific that they are part of language and should therefore be classed as words.

Ums and Ers are Filled Pauses

One long-standing and commonly known theory is that ums and ers are filled pauses. Typically when a speaker (silently) pauses during a conversation, the conversation partner sees this as their cue to start talking. By filling the pause with an um or er, the speaker gains the time to gather their thoughts and at the same time is signalling, “I’m not done yet”. They hold the floor of the conversation without being interrupted. In public speaking, however, they don’t serve the same purpose as a signal, because the communication is typically one way—the floor is already held.

These pauses are needed during most interactions, to provide speakers with time to recall, search for or select the relevant word or phrase so that they can correctly express themselves. Depending on who we’re talking to and what we’re talking about, we adapt our words and construct our sentences to give the receiver the message we want them to receive. Some people do the same thing with nonverbal communication, deliberately using specific behaviours to assist in getting the right message across. This can be tied to deception, which leads me to the next point—ums and ers as a way of self-correcting.

Ums and Ers to Self-Correct

Sometimes, ums and ers are used in speech directly after misspoken words or phrases. Typically, these are shorter, sharper utterances, which can sound like desperate attempts to erase what was said. Of course, when these happen, it doesn’t necessarily mean that someone is being deceptive, they may have just used the wrong expression. So if you find yourself doing this, don’t panic that it seems like you’re lying. This is a typical way of self-correction and none of us are perfectly fluent.

I’d be interested to hear Statement Analyst, Colin Ector’s comments on this, with his expertise in statement analysis, from the perspective of deception detection. Colin joined My Alcomy recently as a contributor to the blog and statement analysis service provider.

Er as an Warning Signal of an Upcoming Statement

Sometimes an er is used before the speaker makes a statement which could result in a negative response by the conversation partner (or audience). This type of er, as filled pause, perhaps signals the speaker’s hesitation, signalling, “I know this sounds bad, but…”, signalling a warning to get ready for what’s about to be said.

For example, “Er, excuse me, would you mind not smoking in the queue? It’s bothering me quite a bit and I think the other people are affected too.” This is what I once said to someone smoking in a long and winding taxi queue outside Sydney airport. The (pre-social distancing) queue was so tightly packed that many of us were inhaling his smoke. People around were visibly bothered and rightly so. I’m assuming the smoker was desperate for a smoke after a flight. The queue was directly outside the airport doors and was much longer than usual, so his urgency to get into the queue probably came before finding somewhere more acceptable to smoke.

I had a feeling someone was going to say something and I was concerned that a fight might break out, taking us all down with it. So I figured, that I (once labelled ‘the diplomat’ as a child) was the right person to deliver it. I knew that I may receive a negative response but I’m a firm believer that you can say awkward or sensitive things in a nice way. Part of this is using positive nonverbal behaviours to soften the blow of the statement. In hindsight, I’m not sure what behaviours I used, but knowing myself, it was most probably a smile and an initial brief touch on the forearm to get his attention. For once, being tiny felt like an advantage and probably negated potential perceptions of dominance and aggression. And I was sure that if I was in trouble people would step in to help. Side note for bartenders—please serve small people.

His response, “Of course—sorry”, as he exhaled up into the air, then extinguished his cigarette. I observed simultaneous relief and quiet exhales in those around me. I followed with a big smile, a nod and a, “thank you”, as everybody turned away, resuming their queuing orientation.

Teachers Using Er for Attention and Command

When I lived in the UK, a lot of my work was based in schools working with teachers or students. With colleagues, I’d visit schools, mostly in the North West, often working in several schools each week. We’d notice the use of loud, audible er, as a command by teachers to gain the attention of the children to settle them down. This er seemed to resonate from deep within the chest and is most certainly an attention grabber. Sometimes it would catch me off guard and I’d jump in response.

The teachers would use this when students behaviour became rowdy or unacceptable. I’m not sure if this otherwise uncommon behaviour is limited to North West or UK schools, or whether it happens elsewhere too. If you’re a teacher, please share your thoughts.

This type of er often had no words surrounding it, but a long pause and hard stare followed. Before long, I found myself using it in the schools I visited, for the same reasons. The habit seems to spread easily. Thinking logically and with the er as a warning signal in mind, I think it’s exactly that, a warning signal. Despite usually having no words surrounding it, perhaps this is a warning that if student behaviour didn’t change, trouble was to come. Perhaps the er was all that needed to be said after previous conditioning that an er of this nature comes with stern words and the possibility of punishment. Pavlov’s Dogs springs to mind.

Ums and Ers are not a Stress Behaviour

Contrary to what many people believe, ums and ers are not indicative of stress. Research suggests the same utterances don’t decrease when we’re chilling with the family.

Ums and Ers Don’t Indicate a Lack of Confidence

While ums and ers typically increase when we are unprepared, for example, during public speaking or when speaking on a topic we don’t know much about, it doesn’t mean the speaker lacks confidence. Because being unprepared doesn’t always go hand in hand with a lack of confidence. An over-use of ums and ers can be an issue for over-confident people who don’t bother preparing for a speech and for those who aren’t overly confident but decide to wing it.

Ums and Ers in Public Speaking

Even when a speaker is prepared and well-rehearsed, ums and ers can still occur during public speaking. In this case, they are not signalling to hold the floor, since they already hold it, but the speaker may still use them as a means to pause and gather their thoughts.

Generally speaking, and especially in regards to public speaking, people view these utterances negativity. Rehearsing and preparing can reduce the amount of ums and ers because the preparation in thinking and delivering has been done. However, if you’re giving a talk and you’re well prepared, keep an eye on your pace and don’t try to eliminate pauses, to give your audience time to process.

What’s interesting are studies into how listeners respond to these filled pauses, especially those in the field of neuroscience. Activation in the brain’s of listeners, suggests that ums and ers can act as a cue to pay attention to what’s coming—engagement is held at these points! So maybe there are benefits to moderate use of ums and ers during public speaking. What’s more, there’s evidence suggesting that listeners can better recognise words after ums and ers and that there are no detrimental effects.

Like with using most nonverbal behaviours, there’s a sweet spot. If your speech is filled to the brim with ums and ers, whether it’s true or not, you’re more likely to be perceived as not being prepared or not being competent. So take preparation seriously. And when ums and ers happen in moderation, embrace your filled pauses.

Get in Touch

If you need more guidance with your um and er usage, if you want to learn more about perceptions of vocal power or if you want to work on your vocal delivery, contact us for coaching and training.

[gokul2181]

Ben Stokes will lead England from the front, has controlled aggression: Sachin Tendulkar | Cricket News

New Post has been published on https://jordarnews.in/ben-stokes-will-lead-england-from-the-front-has-controlled-aggression-sachin-tendulkar-cricket-news/

Ben Stokes will lead England from the front, has controlled aggression: Sachin Tendulkar | Cricket News

NEW DELHI: Indian batting great Sachin Tendulkar has little doubt that Ben Stokes will lead England from the front in the opening Test against West Indies, with his “controlled aggression” and infectious energy aiding him the most. Tendulkar spoke about stand-in English skipper Stokes while previewing the three-Test series, which starts in Southampton on Wednesday, with West Indies legend Brian Lara on online platform ‘100mb’. The match marks the resumption of international cricket amid the Covid-19 pandemic. To a question from Lara about Stokes, Tendulkar said, “He is someone who is going to lead from the front, we have seen that on a number of occasions. He is aggressive, positive and when he has to be slightly defensive he is prepared to do that for the team. “I always feel controlled aggression produces results and so far whatever I have seen, the aggression has been there but it is controlled. So this is what I think of Ben Stokes.”

While Joe Root is away on paternity leave 👶, @benstokes38 is going to be leading @englandcricket in the 1st Test ag… https://t.co/N4p3svBOMh

— Sachin Tendulkar (@sachin_rt) 1594186277000

It is the first time Stokes is leading England having not captained even a first-class team in his career. Regular skipper Joe Root has opted out of the game to attend the birth of his second child Tendulkar said, “For Ben Stokes from what he has been through in the recent past to where he is today it is a total transformation and it can happen only to someone who is mentally strong. “When I first looked at him a few years ago, I could see his body language it was so positive and vibrant and that energy is infectious. “I felt that he was one of those players where in time to come you look back and say Ben stokes, (Andrew) Flintoff, Ian Botham these are the leading all-rounders who played for England. I really rate him highly and his impact on the field is a major one.” On his part, Lara said, besides Jason Holder‘s captaincy, batting will hold the key for West Indies against a fine England seam attack, and reminded the likes of Shai Hope to take a cue from Tendulkar’s epic 241 at the SCG and few of his own knocks in English conditions. “You don’t necessarily have to dominate each bowler. If you are batting on 70-80 and somebody is giving you trouble you back off. Continuing, Lara told his one-time biggest rival: “You know that as well Sachin, in terms of that great innings you played in Sydney, it was not about a particular bowler getting you out but it was a particular shot getting you out, and you stopped yourself from playing it and you were able to score in other areas. So it’s a similar sort of approach.” The Prince of Trinidad, who played some fine knocks in England, recalled his approach to batting there. “I remembered a lot of innings I have played in the past, with Chanderpaul or Jimmy Adams. Those partnerships were so, so important in getting me to where I got to, getting the team the runs that were required. “So again, with all the challenges that the West Indies team is going to face with the bat, partnerships are important, rotating the strike, making sure that you keep the bowlers’ best deliveries out and punish the bad ones. “Putting runs of the on the board will be key for the West Indies,” Lara said. He also remembered his duels with the great Glenn McGrath and cited them as example to help the current team. “A good example would be Australia, playing against Australia and I would be on 78 or maybe 114 and McGrath comes back for a spell. “I know he is going to bowl six overs-seven overs, so I don’t need to take any great risk if the other guys at the other end are giving me the opportunity to score,” Lara said.

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[claudiaalanson8-blog]

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Why is art made?

1 artist unknown, France, Hand axe , Acheulean Period, (500,000 Before Present), flint stone collection of The Nicholson Museum, University of Sydney

2 artist unknown , Commemorative head of an Oba (king), (circa 16th  -17th century ) Benin City, Edo people, Nigeria brass,approx..23.5x21.9x22.9 cm

3 Lola Greeno (born 1946), Australia, Tasmanian Aboriginal People.   Purmaner (2004) maireener shells, yellow oat shells, button shells, cotton & nylon thread 41.5x21.ox1.8cm Shell necklace, 2015,– courtesy of Marina Abramović

4 Patricia Piccinini (born 1965) Sierra Leone, lives and works in Australia Sphinx (2012) silicone, fibreglass, human and animal hair, bronze  122cmx110cmx55

texts A-D  from mona.net.au

A    Geoffrey Miller’s point of view Geoffrey Miller is an American professor of psychology, and author of The Mating Mind (2000) and Spent: Sex, Evolution, and Consumer Behavior (2009).

Artists are sexy as... Miller agrees with Brian Boyd that art is a signaling system—like a bee’s dance, a bird’s song, or a gorilla thumping its chest—but reaches a very different conclusion about the purpose and function of that system. It’s easy to explain the ‘receiver’ end of art, says Miller; we consume it like ‘eye candy’, in the sense that it stimulates our pleasure-responses to certain stimuli, the shapes, colours and patterns for which we have a ‘sensory bias’. But on the ‘sender’ side: why bother? Why invest ‘limited time, energy, and risk in growing ornaments, making sounds, or creating works that receivers might enjoy,’ when such efforts might be better put to more practical ends?

The answer, says Miller, lies in Darwin’s explanation of art more than a century ago: that it arose—long before humans—as a mechanism for attracting mates. Art making is one of the many ways animals ‘signal their health, resourcefulness, intelligence, and / or general fitness’ to potential mates, in the same manner as do the splendid (but otherwise useless) feathers on a peacock. Darwin’s view fell out of favour for much of the twentieth century, but new evidence points to its validity—as does the discovery, very recently, that human art-making sensibilities are much, much older than we thought, and are apparent in Acheulean hand axes up to half a million years old. The ‘carefully exaggerated symmetry’ of such tools point to an emerging aesthetic sense that persists, today, as a signal of ‘good genes, good bodies, and good brains.’ Art has, of course, come to fulfill many secondary functions—on a personal, social, and economic level. These cannot be dismissed. But we are here, after all, to talk about origins.

Illustrated  with  Hand Axe, France, Acheulean, 500,000 BP, – courtesy of The Nicholson Museum, University of Sydney.

B    Brian Boyd’s point of view Brian Boyd is a Distinguished Professor in the Department of English at the University of Auckland, New Zealand, and author of books such as On the Origin of Stories (2009) and Why Lyrics Last: Evolution, Cognition, and Shakespeare’s Sonnets (2012).

Art is cognitive play with pattern. Boyd argues that to understand the origin of art, you need to look to the ‘signaling systems’ that all kinds of plants and animals use to convey information to each other. Think of the relationship between flowers and the birds and insects that pollinate them: flowers have adapted to reflect and amplify the preference of their ‘audience’. This interplay between audience preference and the artist’s desire to satisfy and expand those preferences creates a kind of a feedback loop that propels the trajectory of art history, and that can be seen in the diverse styles and techniques different groups use to express their identity.

Underpinning this diversity, however, is the status of art as a form of cognitive play. Play, widespread through the animal kingdom, is a mechanism that evolved to help us practice important life-saving skills in a safe circumstance. Because humans gain most of their advantages via intelligence, they are inclined towards cognitive play, and in particular, cognitive play with pattern. Humans are natural-born pattern-extractors: reading regularities in the environment is crucial to ensure our survival and prosperity. Art of all kinds uses pattern—on multiple levels, in intersecting, locally relevant ways—to engage the attention of its audience; the audience is rewarded with the opportunity to fine-tune cognitive skills needed to understand the world, and gain mastery over it.

Illustrated with  Commemorative head of an Oba (king), Benin City, Nigeria, Edo people,   c1735–1816

C    Steven Pinker’s point of view Steven Pinker is a Canadian-American psychology professor and experimental psychologist, cognitive scientist and linguist, whose influential publications include The Language Instinct (1994), How the Mind Works (1997) and The Blank Slate (2002). We make art because we can. Pinker takes issue with ‘lame and flabby’ theories for art that confuse questions about its worth and value at a social level, with questions about its function in a Darwinian sense. The proper question to ask is: ‘Is art a heritable trait that enhanced the reproductive rate of our ancestors?’ The answer, he finds, is that art is a by-product, a kind of side effect of other adaptations, such as the desire to obtain status via ‘conspicuous consumption’ (Veblen) of sumptuous goods, and to identify oneself as a member of the fashionable elite.   Art is also a vehicle for engagement with our evolved aesthetic sense. There are adaptive explanations why certain faces, bodies, patterns and habitats give humans aesthetic pleasure: ‘they are cues to understandable, safe, productive, nutritious, or fertile things in the world.’ Artists can choose to play with or flout the audience’s preference for such sensory stimulus, or to create ‘supernormal’ doses of it. Art is, in this way, akin to cheesecake: a ‘pleasure technology’ we have invented for no other reason than our own enjoyment and satisfaction.

“…she decided that Abramovic was just the sort of woman who could carry off a shell necklace worthy of a warrior. 'I thought, wow, these shells actually do suit that woman,' Greeno says.” Gabriella Coslovich

Illustrated with Shell necklace, 2015, Lola Greeno – courtesy of Marina Abramović

D   Mark Changizi’s point of view Mark Changizi is an American evolutionary neurobiologist and cognitive scientist, and author of The Vision Revolution (2009) and Harnessed (2011). Does civilisation mimic nature? I believe so… For Changizi, we don’t have instincts for art and other ‘stimulus artefacts’ like music, language and design. These are inventions of civilisation; but crucially, they persist in (and possibly define) our species because they have been shaped to fit the preferences of our ancient brains. This is ‘nature harnessing’: the process wherein aspects of our culture mimic nature ‘so as to harness evolutionarily ancient brain mechanisms for a new purpose’. Speech, for instance, mimics the sound structures of the environment in which we evolved; alphabet letters, at the deep, unconscious processing level of our brains, resemble the contour combinations characteristic of our natural habitat. Music, arguably the pinnacle of artistic expression, is structured according to the sounds of people moving; we respond with emotion, and movement of our own. Indeed, says Changizi, the highly evocative aspects of our culture most likely can be traced to the most powerful natural source of all our woe and joy, that which on our prosperity depends: other humans.

Herein lies his hypothesis for art: that it exists not because we have an instinct for it, but because it responds to—harnesses—our instinct to engage with other people.

Illustrated with Sphinx, 2012, Patricia Piccinini – © Patricia Piccinini, courtesy of the artist and Tolarno and Roslyn Oxley 9 Galleries

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