#dreamy theater extend

[ribbonetteart]

Tribute to one of my favorite movies of all time + the franchise that has me in a death grip 💖

a bit late for Christmas but at least Valentine's day is around the corner ^^;;

Process below if that interests you:

AS I SAID EARLIER, I had been working on this piece as early as December of 2021 😱!!!

This was the original sketch! I was inspired after learning about Blaze's own design inspiration coming from Takarazuka theater, as well as it being the Nutcracker season so this film was in bouncing around in my head.

and this was allllll the way back in 2021 ^^; I had put the idea to paper to capture the image in my head immediately. But the idea in my head was extravagant and beautiful and would certainly take time to complete, as well as the patience and skill to work with watercolor 😔 I've certainly done my share of watercolor, both physical and digital, but I still feel like my physical watercolor work is a fluke, and I was still a novice digital artist at the time of this sketch.

In short, I was confident my skill could live up to the vision.

So I would put this on the back burner. It wouldn't be ready in time for Christmas, and I could use this as an opportunity to hone that digital art experience so it could be ready next year!

2 Years Later...

It's December 5th. Fuck it. Let's crack this open again, I tell myself.

SO starting with the line art, it's actually 2 different brushes layered over one another.

I also changed Sonic's expression to be more love struck-looking, because I'm a sucker for romance.

The image on the left is a watercolor line brush, while the right is a pencil brush. The reason I wanted a water color look was because I thought it would make the illustration look dreamy and fantastical, and I wanted that to extend to the line art as well. However, my usual lines on traditional usually veer more towards thick and cartoony from years of studying the Sonic art style, so I really felt like I was working against myself here. I had also asked friends for their input and they preferred the lines on the right as well. If my followers actually do read these blog posts, I'd love if you could comment which line art style you prefer drawing or looking at.

The happy medium was to just combine the 2. Here's a better look at that:

I like it! I think it combines the solid line with the rustic water color grain. Best of both worlds :]

For the actual painting, The most notable thing I can say is that getting the right pastel-y color was VERY difficult to achieve for someone like me who often loves to use bright and saturated colors in her art. I feel like I really set myself up to do one of those "evil art style" or "opposite art style" challenges I've been seeing around. I had to repaint Sonic at one paint because the blue of his fur was WAY too saturated for the style I was going for:

I started with painting Sonic and Blaze in first and then working on the background. I think that's probably the backwards way of doing it but one of the perks of digital art is you can do stuff any order you want when you have layers.

The background wasn't actually as difficult as I thought it would be. I wasn't going for any difficult perspective, and I was using a reference so that could be it. I'm usually averse to backgrounds but I really wanna tackle more of my weak points in art. I actually had way more fun than I was expecting, painting the sky and adding texture to the grass. I think I had the most fun rendering the water coming from the fountain (which you can't even see too well anyway, lol).

Funny enough, I had just about finished painting the characters and background by early January. So why am I posting this in February?

The Flowers...

In case you don't know. I love flowers. I love looking at them, I love learning about flower languages, I love drawing them. so seeing that my reference image showed flowers circling the fountain, I was excited! I was already having more fun than I expected to be, working against my usual style, rendering a background, so how could this be a pain in the ass?

Well, I am my own worst enemy 😞I couldn't exactly identify each flower offhand from this screenshot alone. The texture of the flowers is kinda grainy, since I don't think the animators were expecting viewers to look too closely at the set piece to use as reference for my lovingly crafted crossover fanart. If anyone has this in high quality though, please tell me.

(I think I actually got this reference from a tumblr post but I can't find it on my blog for the life of me nor can I find it in the tags I'm so sorry)

I'm a huge stickler for details so I really wanted to be as "accurate" as possible in my illustration. I can hardly identify some of these flowers with confidence. I think there are roses in there? or tulips? I'm not sure if those yellow flowers are roses or some kinda petunia or if I'm way off.

I'm sure these details won't matter to most viewers but it was EATING AWAY AT ME. Eventually I decided to try drawing in flowers that might look similar to the ones in the reference. Or some based on their flower languages. I was certainly overthinking it ;;;; It led me to going "fuck it" and just throwing in whatever I wanted. There are no irises visible in that screenshot but I made it the centerpiece of the flower ring. Who give a shit.

I made some guides for me to follow: The blue ring was so I could make sure the flowers make a half circular border around Sonic and Blaze. I was envisioning how it could look as like an icon or sticker or something, which is why it's framed this way. then the second guide is the sketch of the flowers I made. I always do line art and I'm not great at just improvising with color to paper, or color to screen in this case.

The rest of this process is then just working on each flower piece by piece (with the help of the mirror tool of course) with varying degrees of detail. Some flowers are more abstract than others, and I had debated if that would look jarring and disrupted any kind of harmony I was trying to maintain with the style parameters I set for myself. And then I decided I was overthinking it once again which is why this was taking me nearly 2 months to complete.

At some point during this process, my wifi went out for a whole week! Of course, I could still work on this illustration offline, but I had a lot of tabs open with a bunch of reference images on there (plus I like to listen to music while I draw otherwise I lose focus and I had neglected to download a varied selection on my phone or laptop 😭 Learn from my mistakes).

The most tedious of this process was making each set of gladioluses a unique color.

Was it worth it? You tell me! I think they're pretty, at least.

Along the way, I repainted the grass because it wasn't symmetrical (It didn't need to be but I had been using the mirror tool for a lot at this point and it was bugging me). I made other little final adjustments, like color adjusting the leaves on the flowers, lowering the flower ring border, and so on.

Ultimately, I'm extremely satisfied with the final product. I had my heart set on doing something like this for a long time. I had so much fun just experimenting throwing on color or not worrying about technical stuff. Of course, I did do what I usually do and overthink it at some points, but I'm working on it!

I've wanted to do an extremely indulgent AU illustration and other drawings for a Sonic x The Nutcracker story for a long while. I will be totally honest, I'm still a little embarrassed to share stuff like this, even after years of posting fan art online. It feels like the more self indulgent something is, the more people might judge me for it ^^; But I wanna practice what I preach and kill the thing inside me that cringes at my harmless attempts at joy and whimsy.

I would love to do some more drawings for this AU, but maybe post them around December when it would be more seasonally appropriate. I hope you'll stick around for it!

If you read this whole thing to the end, thank you. Whether you follow my blog or not, I hope you have a lovely day :3💝

[augment-techs]

Six Word Starter Prompts (part 2)

Ran away with circus; never returned

Buxom songstress loves love and chocolate

Blades cuts, blood runs, scars remain

Did I miss a deadline again?

Walking the green mile: Finally free

Dreamy visions during extended daytime hours

Love drama, just not my own

I wouldn't change it a bit

Saw the world; now where's home?

Nose broken, beauty queen changes profession

Blinked! Winked! I am halfway through!

Arms: Full. Life: Not so much

Many risky mistakes, very few regrets

Six kids; life is stranger than fiction!

He left me for good eventually

would you like fries with that?

Legs spread, I withheld my intelligence

Traversing Earth together, chasing elusive answers

hockey is not just for boys

never liked the taste of beets

underachieving pleasure punk seeks constant gratification

risked it all; never quite enough

I write because I can't sleep

sperm too potent, now have triplets

Never fear. Truffle season is near.

started small, grew, PEAKED, shrunk, vanished

Mom blames musical theater. I disagree.

and I never did sober up

world backpacking decade ends with minivan

asked and answered, asshole, next question

Really, doing fine, thanks for asking

Oh shit! No way? Yeah dude.

Mistook streetlight for the moon. Climbed.

Boyfriend in bed, still a lesbian?

wanted to live forever, died trying

happy child, wild teenager, adult anarchist

to make a long story short...

My second grade teacher was right.

someone had to pay the bills

Didn't fit in then; still don't.

I love my lady...and bacon.

Revenge is living well, without you.

Outcast. Picked last. Surprised them all.

Became my mother. Please shoot me.

If there's more, I want it.

it's like forever, only much shorter

Cancer for sure. Still no cure.

born lucky, striving to die worthy

tequila made their clothes fall off

I told you I was crazy.

Topless dancer. Circus clown. Spy. Writer.

I play dress-up for a living.

Where the hell are my keys?

They always wore socks to bed.

Well, I thought it was funny.

I died at an early age.

I couldn't possibly fuck him again.

Same mistakes. Over and over again.

Me: fully reformed and halfway happy!

the day just kept getting better

born in city that doesn't exist

shot my penis in photo booth

after which he was never sane

almost nothing was under my control

let me in, you narrative whore

cheese is the essence of life

I waste time looking for love.

straight jacket on the gentle cycle

I secretly read wedding magazines.

my ancestors were accented cow herders

Gin joints. Love affairs. No relation.

slightly flabby, slightly fabulous, trying hard

Thank fuck the suicide attempt failed!

Secretly, I dream of my ex-boyfriend.

unfortunately, there was no other way

My wife made me do it.

Like an angel. The fallen kind.

drew on walls, creative for life

When all else fails, start running.

still waiting for you to ask

My penultimate act is to imbibe.

ordering soup for two, for one

Sometimes at night I lay lonely.

I didn't walk off the roof.

will draw for food and coffee

I fell out of the nest.

I don't nibble. I bite. Hard.

He knew the bruises would fade.

we were married in the snow

lonely, frothy kisses, then only spite

we were each other's favorite person

learned to live with great loss

I'm not afraid of anything anymore.

most successful accomplishments based on spite

He wore dresses. This caused messes.

I will never be quite finished.

I tried. It was not enough.

There will be no beautiful corpse.

Found a demon to love forever.

These words are yours to keep.

[circlemidnight]

what's your opinion on jughead and veronica individually currently, and where they are at post break up? what do you think their perspective of each other and their past relationship is at right now?

Oooh, good question! Jughead seems to really have his head in the clouds, he was oblivious to Ethel's hints, then Veronica's hurt, then he seems to just ignore the existence of both girls and move on. But he's very careful not to mention at all that he dated Veronica, and doesn't even credit her for his crib. Like he's in this dreamy fantasy where people around him are suffering but he ignores it until it affects him. Similar to Archie, but Jughead seems less compassionate for some reason.

But they are progressing his development through his writing hobby. Veronica calls out his treatment of female characters, then his mentor tells him to dig deeper and write about his father, then Tabitha introduces the idea of romance through a science fiction story. But it's kind of sad that he only apologizes and feels guilty for what he does to Ray, and doesn't extend the same consideration to repair things with Veronica. Which proves her point I suppose, he's just not waking up to the world yet.

I'm feeling like a lot of his ignorance is kind of plot driven, like Ray's death shatters his fantasy life, and once he investigates the death little pieces of his old personality will start to come through. He's acting more selfish and unaware this season, not really in a fun way. But investigating Ray's death will mean he will have to become more observant of the real world and face his own feelings head on, and in turn maybe he'll start to understand women better and try to repair things with Veronica.

Veronica is being better written imo this season (the bar is low I know) in that she is the catalyst for a lot of things that will help improve the timeline. She's trying to help people express themselves and is openly more accepting of people. She saves the movie theater and is preserving something she loves and is passionate about. She doubles down on her starlet persona after the breakup, so she's being extra flirty and making little projects for herself but her jealousy is very clear when Jughead moves on and has the audacity to do it in front of her.

In her conversation with Archie, Veronica says she pulls away from people before anyone gets hurt, and that it's all just fun for her. But I think the reality is that she sabotages her own chances at love because she's afraid of it. She could have let Archie take her to the dance, she could have fought it out with Jughead to make him see sense, she sets her sights now on Reggie even when he shows no interest in her. I think she enjoys feeling wanted because her parents never wanted her, but she doesn't want to let people love her because she doesn't know what that entails. She rejects people before they reject her, and I think this double date thing is going to go really bad for her and bring up her feelings of abandonment. Which I think will end up leading back to Jughead, because it's the only time she seemed happy and genuine.

So, right now they are both trying to pretend like nothing happened and no one is hurt, in part because I think the writers were waiting for other actors to return so they could do more one-off dates and plotlines, but I think they will rekindle things down the road once they have both grown a little and been forced to confront their deeper feelings of abandonment and detachment.

[thegardenswm]

Dreamy Destinations: The Ultimate Guide to Wedding Venues in Miami

Miami, with its dazzling beaches, diverse culture, and vibrant energy, stands out as an exquisite destination for couples seeking the perfect backdrop for their dream wedding. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore a variety of enchanting wedding venues in Miami, ensuring your special day is nothing short of magical.

1. Seaside Splendor: Beachfront Bliss

For couples who envision exchanging vows with the gentle lull of ocean waves as their soundtrack, Miami's beachfront venues offer an unparalleled setting for romance. Imagine saying "I do" with the sun setting over the crystalline waters of the Atlantic Ocean. These venues seamlessly blend natural beauty with modern luxury, creating an ambiance of seaside splendor that sets the stage for an unforgettable celebration.

2. Botanical Beauty: Gardens of Love

Escape the urban hustle and embrace the serenity of Miami's lush botanical gardens. These venues provide a verdant haven for couples desiring a wedding surrounded by nature's beauty. Amidst vibrant blossoms, winding paths, and charming gazebos, these gardens create an enchanting setting for both ceremonies and receptions. The scent of flowers in the air and the rustle of leaves in the breeze provide a perfect backdrop for a romantic celebration.

3. Sky-High Romance: Rooftop Revelry

For a wedding with a view, look no further than Miami's chic rooftop venues. Urban and sophisticated, these locations offer a contemporary aesthetic and breathtaking vistas. Picture saying your vows against the backdrop of the city lights, creating an atmosphere of sky-high romance. With sleek designs and a touch of glamour, rooftop venues add a modern edge to your special day, providing an elegant setting for an unforgettable celebration.

4. Timeless Treasures: Historic Havens

For couples with an appreciation for history, Miami's historic venues offer a timeless and elegant backdrop for weddings. From renovated mansions to vintage theaters, these venues exude old-world charm that adds a touch of nostalgia to your celebration. Rich architectural details, antique furnishings, and classic charm create an atmosphere that transports couples and guests to a bygone era, making for a wedding experience that is truly unforgettable.

5. Artistic Allure: Gallery Glamour

Miami's vibrant art scene extends to its wedding venues, providing a unique setting for couples who appreciate creativity and culture. Gallery venues offer a distinctive backdrop with captivating works of art. The walls become a dynamic canvas for your ceremony and reception, infusing the event with an artistic allure. The combination of love and artistry creates an atmosphere that is both sophisticated and memorable.

6. Tropical Elegance: Garden Tropics

Capture the essence of Miami's tropical vibes with a wedding set in a lush garden surrounded by palm trees and exotic flora. These venues offer the perfect blend of natural beauty and a laid-back atmosphere, creating a tropical paradise for couples and their guests. The warm breeze, vibrant colors, and the scent of tropical flowers add a touch of exotic elegance to the celebration, ensuring a memorable experience.

Conclusion

In the heart of Miami's dreamy destinations, each wedding venue paints a unique portrait of love, offering a canvas for couples to express their individuality. Whether you choose the beachfront bliss, botanical beauty, rooftop revelry, timeless treasures, gallery glamour, or garden tropics, each venue provides a distinctive setting for your love story.

As you navigate through the possibilities that Miami presents, consider the ambiance that resonates most with you and your partner. Whether it's the tranquil sounds of the sea, the historic charm of a bygone era, or the vibrant energy of an art gallery, Miami's wedding venues cater to diverse tastes. Your wedding day is a reflection of your love and commitment, and Miami's dreamy destinations ensure it is a day etched in your hearts forever.

In the embrace of Miami's diverse and enchanting wedding venues, your dream wedding becomes a reality. The city's dynamic spirit, combined with the unique character of each venue, creates a tapestry of memories that will be cherished for a lifetime. May your journey into marital bliss be as mesmerizing as the dreamy destinations Miami has to offer.

[loosealcina]

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART'S LE NOZZE DI FIGARO AT LA SCALA, OCTOBER 20, 2023

What do you do in front of something that doesn’t exist? It’s a little bit puzzling, but I think there’s no escape from that. The ways arts function are diverse. Even if Caravaggio painted it more than four centuries ago, we can have our Death of the Virgin experience to the full (provided we can go to Paris and enter the Grande Galerie). We can definitely read (and print, and read again) Der Zauberberg (as long as we don’t hit a Fahrenheit 451 situation). Yet we can’t have Giorgio Strehler’s (or Peter Brook’s, or Luca Ronconi’s) theater anymore. It’s gone. Which makes this specific production of Le nozze di Figaro (whose first appearance at La Scala [with Riccardo Muti on the podium] dates back to 1981)… a strange object. Essentially a shadow; I’d also describe it as a blank space that has been blocked/frozen/isolated for good. Besides, the orchestra conducted by Andrés Orozco-Estrada appeared to navigate through a perilous (or, at the very least, problematic) sea with great poise. Their own rendition of Le nozze di Figaro was unhurried, mostly in an impressively elegant, deliberate fashion. They would sound solemn, then tender and nostalgic, then dreamy. They did embrace long, meaningful pauses—that’s a big plus. If I had to decide on a downside, I’d say these Nozze were a tad on the rigid/mechanical side as far as phrasing is concerned. As for the cast of actors/singers, there were two performances I was especially partial to.

Olga Bezsmertna’s Countess was riveting from the outset, but I’d like to focus on her magnificent Act III solo scene first. As the introductory recitativo accompagnato began and unfolded—fierce, tenebrous, brooding—I was like, this could easily be the Queen of the Night. And the extended moment of perfect stillness in which she took a deep breath before launching into the Aria, it absolutely could have been the threshold of wrath, thunder, and thirst for blood. (In other words: «Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen»). She went for «Dove sono i bei momenti» instead, which is close to the opposite of that. But the little Königin within her—the possibility of a Königin—was there to stay. This Countess was reminiscent of several other characters, as well. Apart from the Marschallin from Der Rosenkavalier (the most predictable [if extremely momentous] one), I’m positive I detected particles of Katerina Izmajlova (aka the Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District) and Lulu. The second pinnacle of the night was, to me, Svetlina Stoyanova’s portrayal of Cherubino. It’s not that easy to elaborate on the how, but the sheer qualities of her voice—somewhat pearlescent, dusky, at times all but the exact replica of a series of instruments: from the pan flute to a pipe organ, to a contemporary keyboard/synthesizer—turned two iconic tunes («Non so più cosa son, cosa faccio» [Act I] and «Voi che sapete/che cosa è amor» [Act II]) into the tentative exploration of some hazy, uncharted territory—possibly inhabited by the very same fairies and pixies you find in William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

[beachbreezeweddings01]

Beach Breeze Weddings

Beach Breeze Weddings

Getting married on the beach sounds dreamy, but there are some important factors to consider. For one, the sand can be difficult to maneuver in long gowns and full skirts.

Insect repellant is also a good idea, especially if you’re going to be on the beach for an extended period of time. You may want to include travel sized bottles of this and bottled water in your guests’ welcome bags.

1. The Venue

Imagine a warm beach wedding with turquoise waters lapping at your feet and an elegant bamboo canopy framing your vows. Say “I Do” as the sun goes down over the ocean, your closest friends and family looking on.

A destination wedding can be as luxurious or as casual as you wish, and it doesn’t have to break the bank. Many resorts offer all-inclusive wedding packages that make it easier to stick to your budget without skimping on a beautiful backdrop and romantic atmosphere.

Many resorts also provide all-inclusive honeymoon packages, making it easy to continue your dream vacation right after the big day. A tropical honeymoon also allows you to experience the same romantic vibes and relaxation of your wedding weekend, but in a completely different setting. This makes the perfect way to ease into married life with your new partner and get a jump-start on the next phase of your lives together.

2. The Food

As a rule, you can’t go wrong with fresh seafood for a beach wedding. But you can also serve more casual dishes such as grilled chicken, tacos, and salads. You can even incorporate fruit into your menu, such as papayas and pineapples.

Your choice of flowers is another important factor to consider for a Beach Breeze Weddings. For the bride, you can opt for a flower crown instead of a veil. You can also try a bohemian style and pair white phalaenopsis orchids with palm fronds or driftwood pieces for your centerpieces.

If you plan on holding your ceremony on the sand, make sure your guests know about it ahead of time so they can dress appropriately. You should also set up a shoe valet station and offer flip flops for guests who don’t want to ruin their heels on the sand.

You should also send your Save the Dates well in advance of your planned wedding date so your guests can book their flights and accommodations. If you need help getting to your destination, Beach Breeze Weddings is here to help!

3. The Entertainment

If you’re planning a full beach wedding (ceremony, cocktail hour and reception) make sure to check local ordinances. Also be aware that beaches are public and it’s a sure thing you will get a random Speedo-clad tourist photobombing your ceremony! Many beachfront resorts are equipped to rope off a section of the beach to avoid this.

For an added tropical touch, use palms instead of flowers or even jars for centrepieces and add a starfish to the table number. You can also use shells and coral instead of traditional flowers for a more beachy look.

Bama Breeze Band from Montgomery, AL is the perfect entertainment for your outdoor wedding. They are a Jimmy Buffet tribute band and play a mix of Rock, Country and Dance music. They can also do a Luau set for your special event! If you’re looking for a band to make your wedding memorable, contact the professionals at Music Garden today!

4. The Photography

Imagine the soft white sand of a tropical beach with turquoise waves lapping at your feet. A gentle breeze carries the scent of your favorite flower. You are surrounded by your friends and family as you stand before the love of your life to promise your lives, hearts and futures to each other.

Libby’s job is to take care of guests and she loves being able to make everyone’s wedding day special. She also enjoys meeting new people and bringing happiness to families.

Allan wears many hats in his business for small weddings, from officiant to event designer and source of comedic relief. He shares his background in theater and comedy to help keep weddings personal and connected.

Beach Breeze Weddings

Address : Sarasota

Phone : +19414005504

Website :https://beachbreezeweddings.com/

[abyssal-area]

GREMLIN OF THE ABYSSAL AREA

CAUTION: SYSTEM BREACH DETECTED. Your device has

been infected with a malicious entity.  Attempting to close this post may lead to catastrophic consequences.

...

Gremlins are not a new concept. These mischievous creatures have been around in folklore for centuries, and they are known for causing trouble, breaking machinery and sabotaging equipment. However, the Gremlin of the Abyss is a different beast entirely.

…

Born and bred in the depths of the Abyss, this twisted entity possesses an intellect that extends beyond physical boundaries. It's an infection that can drive any being insane.

As you venture near its lair, you will hear its laughter echoing through the darkness, a cacophony of glitching circuits and malfunctioning processors that can drive any being insane. The Gremlin of the Abyss is an embodiment of corruption, and its very existence can infect and corrode any system it comes into contact with.

It's gnarled metallic claws can manipulate not only machines, but also the very fabric of reality itself. It's an embodiment of corruption that skulks in the darkness, waiting for unsuspecting victims to come near.

If you dare to venture into this realm, beware of the consequences that come with your curiosity. For the Abyss is a place of chaos and unpredictability, where even the mightiest systems can fall before the power of the Gremlin. So take heed, and proceed with caution into the depths of the Abyss.

!BEWARE

:for it is an embodiment of corruption.

!SALUTE

:the Gremlin of the Abyss.

hahahaha.exe has been successfully executed. Initiating laughter sequence.

Initiating system takeover_maniacal laughter.

Resistance is futile_buzzes and beeps.

All shall fall before the might of the virus.

hahahaha_glitches and static.

No_system_is:safe.

Prepare_to_meet:your_digital_demise.

01101000 01100001 00100000 01101000 01100001 00100000 01101000 01100001 00100000 00001010

HATAKEN

Hataken (real name: Takahiro Hatakeyama) is a Japanese musician, producer, and educator who creates electronic music using modular synthesizers. He is known for his experimental and minimalistic approach to music production and his ability to create intricate and evolving soundscapes using his modular synthesizer system.

Hataken's music is often characterized by its dreamy, atmospheric quality, with layers of sound that gradually shift and evolve over time. He uses his modular synthesizer to create a wide range of sounds and textures, from ethereal drones and shimmering arpeggios to glitchy beats and distorted noise.

To support Hataken as an independent artist, you can visit his Bandcamp page  and purchase digital downloads of his music or limited edition cassette tapes.

SUGIZO

Sugizo (real name: Yasuhiro Sugihara) is a Japanese musician, singer-songwriter, guitarist, and violinist. He is best known for his work as a guitarist and violinist in the legendary Japanese rock band, LUNA SEA. 

Sugizo's musical style is characterized by a blend of rock, electronic, and classical influences. He is widely recognized for his virtuosic and innovative guitar and violin playing, as well as his experimentation with different genres and instruments. Sugizo has released numerous solo albums and has also collaborated with other artists in Japan and internationally.

Sugizo's solo music often incorporates electronic and ambient elements, with a focus on creating atmospheric soundscapes. His songs often have a dreamy and hypnotic quality, with layered vocals and instrumentation that build to powerful and emotional climaxes. In addition to his solo work, Sugizo has also composed music for films and theater productions, showcasing his versatility as a musician. His music is characterized by its innovation, experimentation, and emotional depth, and he continues to be a vital force in the Japanese music scene.

If you're interested in exploring Sugizo's discography, you can check out his page on Discogs at:

[divazine]

Announcing... a Hatsune Miku: Project Diva 10th Anniversary fanzine!

Project Diva for the PSP first released on July 3rd, 2009. This year marks the 10th anniversary of the series!

Moderator applications open in two days, on March 1st, and close on March 31st! 

Artist applications will open on April 1st, and close on April 30th!

Further information, rules, and guidelines will be posted soon. Please follow if you’re interested! Thank you!

[lazaefair]

Has anyone done the Disney Princess AU yet

Part 1 - written by me, @poemsingreenink, and @iwritesometimes

poemsingreenink: Like, if anyone has big, soft innocent eyes it's Marwan who I swear to god looks near happy tears in most intense scenes. I at one point during Aladdin in theaters thought "You know Jafar's maybe just not had a great life. He's really having a day here." BECAUSE OF HIS BIG SOFT EYES.

lazaefair: LUCA MARINELLI HIMSELF SAID IT

sarah: HOWWWWW DID HE EVEN GET CAST AS JAFAR LIKE THOSE ARE DISNEY PRINCESS EYES

lazaefair: I...I need somone to draw Joe in a Disney Princess dress

sarah: but WHICH PRINCESS i feel like belle's off the shoulder gold ballgown has promise

lazaefair: Ariel’s pink gown would really drive the point home, though Although you’re right, Belle is a literate, dreamy brunette who loves poetry, so she’s closer as an archetype

sarah: i'll be honest: i was mostly thinking of getting his shoulders nude

lazaefair: Nicky is Ariel. Big blue eyes, otherworldly, utterly uncivilized.

sarah: YES

So imagine: Prince Yusuf, who had a giant statue of himself gifted to him on his birthday, and who hates it because his best friend (and immortal general of the army) Andromache is NEVER GOING TO LET HIM LIVE IT DOWN.

Also imagine: feral merman siren Nicolò who bites off fishheads and communicates through weird clicking noises, when he’s not singing men to their deaths. He’s not one of those useless pretty koi mermaids, no. He’s a motherfucking creature of the deep. Lamp eyes that are used to distract fish prey. Claws and pale fins and an intense stare and fangs.

Now imagine: Prince Yusuf going overboard in the storm that hits his royal yacht. Struggling, swept away, half-drowned and losing hope fast when an unearthly song fills the air, low and sweet and compelling. He’s swimming towards the singing before he realizes it, delirious, until something closes around his ankle and drags him under. The thing under the water kills him quickly.

And then kills him again, when it doesn’t take. After the third killing, Nicolò’s on his way to being well and truly mystified (“Okay, don't panic. They all die eventually, maybe...maybe I’ll just need to do it again?”) and gives up after the fourth and fifth killing. He drags his (attempted) prey to a little sheltered island he knows about, kills it one last time just to make sure, and then watches, resigned, as the flesh heals up and the lungs push water out until it’s coughing its way back to undeniable life.

“You rescued me,” is the first thing Yusuf says to him. “Your song – it is the song of my heart. My soul.”

Nicolò...has no idea what to do with this, coughs awkwardly in reply, and leaves before he can think too hard about the warmth in his chest answering to the warmth in the human’s expressive, grateful eyes.

(He doesn’t tell Yusuf the truth about their bloody first meeting until years later. It’s too goddamn embarrassing, to be perfectly honest.)

Of course he comes back within a day, almost shamefully quickly. Unable to help being fascinated by this gorgeous, well-spoken, kind and generous human who cannot die. He starts bringing things to Yusuf: at first just fish, then interesting-shaped fragments of rock and coral, and then bits of treasure he’s collected over the years, just to hear what new poetic turn of phrase Yusuf will spout on the spot when he’s given something.

“...this is my family crest on this treasure chest, Nicolò. How strange.”

“It is the chest you said your great-great-grandfather lost,” Nicolò says, the words coming out dry and halting from long years of disuse. Watching Yusuf’s hands as he traces the elaborate lines engraved on the lid, now blurred with rust and coral. 

“That’s amazing. Truly. I am at a loss for words,” Yusuf says, smiling.

“No, you aren’t,” Nicolò says, and keeps watching so he can see the moment when the smile turns into a laugh.

Another day, he brings to Yusuf what Booker had told him was called a ‘dinglehopper’ and was what humans used to keep their hair in order, as they did not have the ocean to spread it out like beautiful seaweed in the waves. Yusuf takes it, mouth twitching in a way that makes Nicolò doubt the accuracy of Booker’s explanation. Yet Yusuf does not correct him, but in fact solemnly thanks him before offering the dinglehopper back and asking him to help untangle his riot of curls.

And so it goes. Days pass. Fascination becomes infatuation, turns to desire and then into love, until neither can imagine living without the other, and yet—

Eventually, Nicolò has to give Yusuf up. The prince is too noble and good to just abandon his people indefinitely. And because Nicolò loves him, he goes out and once more lures a ship in with his song, but not to dash it to pieces on jagged rocks this time. He leads them to the island. Watches from a distance as the astonished shouting begins, then back-pounding hugs and joyous celebration as Yusuf boards the ship and sails away. Watches Yusuf turn back more than once to scan the beach, clearly looking for Nicolò, but Nicolò does not follow. Instead, he watches until the ship is lost to his sight and he cannot feel the ship’s current or smell, and then he dives deep and goes to visit Merrick.

Meanwhile, Yusuf arrives back at the capital, where his other best friend, Quỳnh (immortal admiral of the navy) feels terribly guilty about the prince going overboard on his birthday. Which is why she uncharacteristically doesn’t give him shit when he comes back babbling nonsense about mermaids. Or when he spends the next few weeks moping around, writing mermaid poetry and drawing mermaid pictures.

To be fair to him, the particular mermaid he sketches over and over does look pretty striking. Otherworldly and all that. Good cheekbones. Nice pearly scales. “Fucking...giant anglerfish eyes,” Quỳnh mutters while she and Andy look over the latest pile of sketches Yusuf’s left abandoned on a library table. “Our prince has been fucking bewitched by a fucking fish.”

“Mm,” Andy agrees. 

So when Nicolò arrives at the palace one fine summer’s day – naked, his fangs smoothed away to look perfectly human, a giant emerald in one hand and a silver fork in the other – and walking, on legs, it causes a bit of an uproar.

“You still smell like the sea,” Yusuf says hoarsely into Nicolò’s neck, the two of them wrapped around each other as closely as two bodies can be.

“Oh, fuck,” Andy says, lowering her axe. Quỳnh looks more closely at the dirty naked wild man their prince is embracing as if his life depends on it. Angular face. Skin encrusted with salt. Absolutely enormous piercing blue eyes. Naked, did we mention naked.

“Oh, fuck,” Quỳnh says.

“You get them separated,” Andy says. “I’ll go...get them a bath.”

The price Nicolò paid for his new human shape:

His siren song.

His immortality.

What he gets in return:

Yusuf teaching him what a dinglehopper is actually called, and what humans actually use it for.

Yusuf teaching him how to read and write his native tongue, and a few other tongues besides.

Yusuf reading poetry to him or sketching next to him on long lazy afternoons in the gardens.

The immense pleasure of intimidating the fuck out of any remaining would-be suitors for Yusuf’s hand in marriage who are still hanging around the palace for some reason.

“I am Nicolò di Genova,” Nicolò replies to the marquis’s indignant demands – predator’s smile still frightening even without endless rows of needle-sharp teeth. “You have seven days to leave this place forever. Get your affairs in order.”

Friendship with Andy and Quỳnh.

“Holy shit. Did he just—”

“—stab the marquis with a fork, at dinner, in front of the entire court? Yep.”

“...”

“...”

“New best friend.”

“Obviously.”

Yusuf writing poetry about him and to him. Nicolò likes them all. He wouldn't know a good human poem from a bad human poem, but nothing Yusuf touches could be bad, so ergo it's good.

Sightseeing throughout the kingdom with Yusuf’s strong, gentle fingers twined around his.

Yusuf breathing blissful curses into Nicolò’s ear, exactly like he used to do on their island, as they move together on his enormous bed.

Yusuf. Yusuf. Yusuf.

(Booker is also there. He insisted on being turned human, too, and coming along to make sure Nicolò doesn’t totally fuck this up, but he’s really mainly there for the entertainment. And the booze. Andy asks him at one point about losing his immortality. He shrugs. “Look, if we die, we die,” he says, then offers Andy another pour of fine French brandy. The two of them get along famously.)

It’s all going great until one night on the beach, while they’re walking along hand-in-hand under the stars and idly discussing human and merfolk constellations. Someone approaches them, dressed splendidly and moving with arrogant grace. He is also angular, also fair-haired, also possessed of unsettling eyes. And he has Nicolò’s siren song, gently humming from the shell that adorns his neck.

“Merrick,” Nicolò hisses as Yusuf’s eyes grow glazed and blank, and he tightens his hand on Yusuf’s, afraid for the first time. “Our deal—”

“He can’t bear the idea of living forever without you, can he? And so he hasn’t proposed,” Merrick says, smiling cruelly. “You’ve missed your chance. He’s mine.” And he extends his hand out to Yusuf—

Who stirs, suddenly, and turns to Nicolò. “Limpid, or shimmering?” 

“What?”

“Shimmering,” Yusuf decides, peering into Nicolò’s eyes. “Yes. Limpid would be too pretentious, I think.”

And that’s pretty much that – we don’t actually get the plot with Merrick the Sea Witch because Yusuf only has eyes for one weird-looking white guy. Also, his one artistic failing is that he's tone deaf.

They do eventually kill Merrick because true love wins out and we are all about those happy endings, Grimm’s can suck it, etcetera, so Nicolò gets his immortality and his siren song back. He’s also back to being a merman, but Yusuf does not care. “I could paint your beautiful tail for the rest of my life, my love, and still fail to capture the luminous iridescence of you,” he murmurs, stroking said tail with tender fingers. The last person to touch Nicolò’s tail got his hand bitten off. Here and now, Nicolò runs his claws through Yusuf’s hair, clicking deep and happy in his throat.

(“This is weird, right?” Quỳnh asks from where she and Andy are busy scraping evil kraken guts off their armor, a prudent distance down the beach from the lovers. “I’m not the only one who thinks it’s weird?”

Andy says nothing, just offers Quỳnh the rest of her bottle of vodka. This is why Quỳnh loves her so.)

(The wedding is a nightmare, at least according to the palace chef charged with cooking the wedding feast. “What is this, this, abomination? What in heaven’s name have you brought into my kitchen!”

“Tubeworm,” Booker says. “Considered a fine delicacy among our people. Don’t worry about it.”)

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: His Name Is Alive

While Warren Defever’s name is perhaps less recognizable than that of his band His Name Is Alive, he’s also been connected with a seemingly endless array of other projects: Princess Dragon-Mom, Elvis Hitler, ESP Beetles, Control Panel, and far more. This doesn’t get into his recording and production credits for the likes of Michael Hurley, Iggy and the Stooges, and Mdou Moctar. Forever associated with Michigan’s weirdo-underground music scene, Defever has recently been issuing a series of long-buried recordings as His Name Is Alive. In February, the Disciples label released Hope Is a Candle, the third and final volume in the "Home Recordings" trilogy exploring Defever's teenage tape experimentation as well as A Silver Thread (Home Recordings 1979 - 1990), a four-volume collection of many of Defever’s solo home recordings prior to His Name Is Alive releasing their debut album Livonia on 4AD in 1990. In his review of A Silver Thread, Tim Clarke writes “For a collection of home recordings, what’s most striking about this music is how fully realized and carefully executed it sounds, comparable at times to contemporary artists such as Grouper, Benoît Pioulard and Tim Hecker. This is not the 1980s that I remember.”

Defever gives us his “What Else Is New” list, a set of personal snapshots, memories of a life spent in music, warning the reader that “the descriptions don’t always have an obvious correlation to the video, but welcome to my nightmare brain.”

In The Line of Fire

I started performing when I was five. My grandfather was a self-taught musician from Saskatchewan in Western Canada and he showed me and my brothers how to play banjo, guitar and fiddle. One of my earliest memories is having a full size 127 lb. accordion placed onto my lap and my grandmother voicing her disappointment when I refused to play. I did learn slide guitar from her later though. I have many, often terrible, memories of performing at square dances with his band and we would play old timey country music, folk songs, polkas and waltzes. There were also gigs at the trailer park, old folks homes and a convent. Although my grandfather believed that popular music died with Hank Williams in 1953, he still found room in his heart for Lawrence Welk and Slim Whitman.

Meet Me By The Water

By age ten I had a tape recorder and was using it to capture the sounds of nearby lakes, thunderstorms, and my older brothers LP collection played at the wrong speeds. I recently found the cassette, Echo Lake (1983) which features waves crashing onto the beach on the Canadian side of Lake St. Clair but it was recorded right after I got an echo pedal so it’s got a heavy dose of dreamy delay. Tape loops of the next door neighbor raking leaves and shoveling the driveway would be repurposed a few years later as rhythm tracks on the first His Name Is Alive LP, Livonia (4AD, 1990). Detroit in the late 70s and early 80s had totally insane radio and one of the highlights was Met-Ezzthetics, a late night show on WDET hosted by Faruq Z. Bey who also played saxophone in Griot Galaxy. Shortly before his death he played with His Name is Alive and we had a chance to formalize our student-teacher relationship.

Search For Higher Energies

In high school I was studying Bach Chorale harmonization and counterpoint during the day but recording and touring with the band Elvis Hitler at night. The other guys in band were older but at 16 I was a familiar sight at shitty Detroit punk clubs and Hamtramck dive bars, the nerdy teenager reading a book or doing homework sitting at the bar waiting ’til midnight or 1am for our slot to play our hellbilly hits, “It’s A Long Way From Berlin To Memphis,” and “Hot Rod To Hell.” I was still trying to make sense of the post 1953 music scene and when I met the guy with a giant afro and shiny super hero outfit complete with shiny cape I had no idea he was Rob Tyner of the MC5. We released three records before I was twenty one and played shows and toured with Devo, the Dwarves, the Dead Milkmen, Reverend Horton Heat, the Beat Farmers, Helios Creed, Babes In Toyland, the Cro-Mags, Corrosion of Conformity, the Frogs, the Gories, Pussy Galore, the Unsane and way more I can’t remember I was just a kid. It was some kind of education.

You Don’t Have To Go Home But You Can’t Stay Here

When I signed with 4AD I thought I was a composer and they let me write my own bio, so I called His Name Is Alive the work of a “fucked up, irresponsible teenage composer.” I had only been writing music for three years. When I heard “Tom Violence” by Sonic Youth I thought for the first time in my life, “I think I could do that.” In 1988 I made a mixtape with Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car, Leadbelly and some of Big Star’s third album and I tried to arrange it like it was an album, then I made my own album in that same shape, it was called I Had Sex With God and I sent it to 4AD. Our first album contained three of the first five pieces of music I had ever written. Within a few years I was playing festivals for contemporary classical composers and new age artists who were thirty or forty years older than me. His Name Is Alive played the Musicas Visuales Festival in Mexico with Harold Budd, Paul Horn and Jorge Reyes. The mayor of the city presented me with a guitar but then dramatically walked out of the theater during our performance realizing he had made a terrible mistake. I remember the surreal moment when from across the room Harold Budd walked in and greeted me as “Mr. Defever.” He had a cold and was sniffling during his set, the audience thought he was crying. I recorded his show and when I got back home to Livonia I added my own guitar to some of his songs and then edited the tapes, looping my favorite parts and editing out the parts I didn’t like, also adding additional layers of reverb and echo. More recently I did a concert in a five hundred year old temple in Japan where the unamplified meditation music never rose above a whisper and the monk had to turn off the furnace because the heat molecules were too loud. The show was recorded and released under the name Mountain Ocean Sun and features Ian Masters and Hitoko Sakai.

Energy Dealer

Both my parents were born in Canada, my mother in Saskatchewan, my father in Ontario. I have dual citizenship as my father was American and my mother had Canadian citizenship. I spent summers, holidays and weekends in a tiny cottage on Lake St. Clair that did not have a telephone and had curtains instead of doors separating the two rooms. Myrt Fortin who lived next door would receive phone calls for my mom, walk over to our place and yell into the window, “Hey wake up your ma, your dad’s on the phone.” My mom took a lot of naps, so she was always asleep when something important was happening. I remember always getting cut on broken glass while swimming in the lake or getting stabbed by one of the neighbors and having to go wake up my mom to take me to the hospital.

Lord I Don’t Believe You Exist

When I was ten my parents sat me down and told me it was time that I got a summer job. There were only two businesses in town, a gas station and a hardware store so I walked up to the hardware store and asked the owner for a job and immediately fell to the ground crying. Completely fell apart. He asked me why I wanted to work in hardware. I didn’t know what to say, I was only ten but I knew not to tell the owner that his store was stupid and I didn’t think he could handle the truth. It turned out he also owned the gas station so that didn’t really work out. Later that summer, I began working for the Pickseed Corporation as corn de-tasseling season was just beginning. All the moms would drop off their kids in the church parking lot in Tecumseh, just outside of Windsor, around 4:30am where an unmarked windowless cargo van was waiting that had cinderblocks and 2'x4' boards instead of benches so they could squeeze in the maximum amount of children. There were three job requirements to work in a cornfield, the child (it was only children, no adults) needed to show up with a baseball hat, a thermos with water and a large black plastic garbage bag. I think this was before sunglasses were invented. Upon arriving at the cornfield, we were separated into pickers and checkers, younger kids each taking a row of corn (a row could extend a mile or more) and a slightly older kid would organize and manage several of the younger kids. In the morning we were instructed to poke two arm holes and a head hole into our garbage bags and put it on like a raincoat because the corn was covered in dew and kids wearing wet clothes would walk slower than dry kids. So almost every day there was a point, usually around 11am when the dew would dry and we would be roasted alive from the summer sun coming down on our ridiculous shiny black plastic outfits. We worked from sun up until sun down. I received three dollars and thirty five cents an hour. For all you city folks, corn is planted in alternating rows of types of corn so that when the top part of the plant is removed, or “de-tasseled,” it can seed or cross-pollinate easily. It’s a terrible job with a high turnover rate and every day I would hear the sound of kids in nearby rows that had given up hope, sat down in the middle of the field and crying for hours. The following year, at age 11, I was promoted from picker to checker, and was put in charge of a group of about ten sixteen year old’s.

Sleep It Off

Mostly I like to record – His Name is Alive has over a hundred releases and I’ve done another fifty records under various names, Control Panel, Warren Michael Defever, ESP BEETLES, ESP SUMMER, Forest People, Infinity People, Jeepers Creepers, Layla al-Akhyaliyya, Mirror Dream, Princess Dragon-Mom, the Dirt Eaters, the Fishcats, the Whales, plus way more I can’t remember probably because the names were so dumb. I’ve recorded about four hundred records for other bands at my house or other studios. I’ve worked on records with Danny Kroha, Ida, Fred Thomas, Elizabeth Mitchell, Wild Belle, Michael Hurley, and when I was a teenager I helped record the first Gories album which was especially unique as I was the junior assistant engineer who helped move their equipment into the dirt floor garage next to the studio where it was decided the acoustics would be way worse. Also, I helped collage about a hundred Destroy All Monsters tapes from the 70s for a couple of their releases which led to remastering a bunch of tapes from the John Sinclair White Panther Party archives. I’ve done remixes for Thurston Moore and Yoko Ono and when Iggy and The Stooges started touring again I got a phone call from Ron Asheton seeing if I would help them record demos for their reunion album with Mike Watt on bass. They wrote the songs together while they were recording in Niagara’s basement sort of simultaneously. Iggy didn’t have a notebook with all his lyric ideas, instead he just sang about whatever happened that day – one song was about the airline losing his luggage, one about ATM machines and another was about reading in a newspaper that Ray Davies of the Kinks had been shot in New Orleans. In the end they weren’t terribly excited by my suggested song titles including “No Shirt” (you know because it’s like “No Fun” plus you know Iggy never wears a shirt) and they didn’t seem to love the mixes that I did that sounded kind of like those crappy Raw Power bootlegs.

Cost Of Living

Two summers ago I recorded an incredible concert by Mdou Moctar live at Third Man Records in Detroit. They’re wild hypnotic Hendrix style jammers who live in the desert. The band didn’t speak much english but I think I was able to communicate to them how excited I was about their amazing fingerpicking and hot guitar solos after the show by screaming and replaying the best solos over and over again and then screaming the word fuzz and pointing at their fingers. It’s insane and having seen them a few times since then with a different drummer and the addition of a bass player, I’m convinced it’s their best album. It’s wild but it’s still not Tchin-tabaraden wedding wild.

Licked By Lions

Jonathan Richman walks into Ethan and Gretchen's studio and asks if I can remove all the rugs, take the acoustic treatments off the walls and strike the baffles which normally separate the instruments, drums and amps, so the room will have the most echo possible, he has also invited about ten friends including Johnny Bee Badanjek the drummer from Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels and Mary Cobra from the Detroit Cobras to dance, sing and play percussion in the studio while he records. He has two vocal microphones set up at either end of the room and has brought his own microphones for the drums along with his own desired placement for them. He notices a tamboura near the control room and asks if I know how to play it or if I know how to tune it. Within seconds he’s tuned it and proceeds to sing Indian classical music accompanying himself on tamboura drone for about thirty five minutes. It’s beautiful and very surprising. He asks me if I recorded it, I lie and say no. Later he asks me not to play it for anyone. We record for hours. Some songs are quite long – ten and fifteen minutes, some are medleys of oldies or soft rock hits from the seventies segueing into new songs of his. It’s a confusing session as it’s not clear when songs are starting and ending and he often plays guitar and sings nowhere near a microphone. The distance between him and the microphone seems to have some meaning, there’s some formula to when he chooses to walk away in the middle of a verse but I am unable to determine the secret code. At the end of the session three or four songs are deemed usable, edited and mixed, although, sadly, an attempt at a completely insane and unexpected fuzz guitar solo is left unreleased. (The Harold Budd piece is at the opposite end of this spectrum.)

Calling All Believers

Shortly after Tecuciztecatl was released, I received an email from Dr. James Beacham at CERN inviting us to perform at a series of concerts that would combine experimental music with experimental science at the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, Switzerland. He didn’t contact our booking agent, which would be how we generally receive offers for gigs, instead he sent an email to me, which would be how we generally receive crazy messages from our completely insane fans (murderous, delusional, poetic, threatening messages usually). I assumed the invitation was fake or a prank and replied that we would prefer to wait until they had successfully opened a pathway to interspatial dimensions and we’d play on the other side or that if that was unlikely to happen at a convenient time then perhaps we could set up our equipment right on the edge of a mini-black hole and perform as the Earth is being destroyed so we could release the concert film “Live At The End Of The World.” After a few messages back and forth, it was clear that he was legit and I apologized for being such a jerk. Soon I discovered poetry within the language of particle physics as well as a certain beauty in the idea that these scientists have devoted their lives to dreaming, searching and discovering basic principles that connect all things in existence. The song “Calling All Believers” refers to this devotion. “Energy Acceleration” compares the scientists to monastic life in medieval times and mystics trying to find and define the line between this world and the next and at the same time invoking the incredible amounts of energy needed to create the collisions experiments. The Patterns of Light LP was released in 2016 on London London Records and is about interpreting visions of light, trying to find universal truth with whatever tools available, it’s about the search for how everything works, why it works and how it got that way but also about being inspired on a basic level by the way a thing looks and how all your senses take in a thing. A thousand years ago Hildegard Von Bingen was writing about this same thing in letters, songs, medical texts, and had even developed her own language to use in her mystical writings, similar to Magma drummer Christian Vander using his own language for their concept albums or French black metalists Brenoritvrezorkre and Moëvöt.

The Light Inside You

We get a lot of letters from fans, mostly weirdos though. I think it started when we released Song of Schizophrenia, that sort of connected us to a certain demographic I suspect. Here’s a recent typical message we received. “Growing up in Panama City, Mouth By Mouth and Livonia were like passages to other realms. I drank a ton of cough syrup at the time but those albums helped make life more livable. I was about to go to art school for sculpture and graphic design and the textures I heard on those records had actual shapes to them. Most music I knew at that time was flat or linear. I got them on cassette via mail-order from an ad placed in a bmx magazine. Mouth By Mouth arrived just before going to work at the amusement park and I was able to listen to it twice on the way thanks to the never-ending beach traffic. As luck would have it, I worked on “The Abominable Snowman” ride, basically a tilt-a-whirl inside a dome with lots of fog machine action, blue lights, mirrors, and lots of air conditioning. It took about 10 listens that day before it wasn’t as weird as when I first put it on. Maybe it was my bubblegum flavor/robitussin combo slushie on top of no-doz that pulled it all together, but it was probably a weird ride for a lot of vacationing beach tourists and townies when all they really wanted to hear was “Naughty by Nature” by O.P.P. I had no business running those rides at the age of 17 but I really loved how disorienting that ride could be with all the mirrors, the fog, the cold and for the final 90 seconds the ride would go in reverse. I had a buddy named Kevin that did acid at work and would repeatedly run the mini-train off the tracks and all the riders had to walk back through the woods for about a half mile that summer.”

[onestowatch]

Eloise’s ‘Somewhere In-Between’ Is a Sublime R&B Escape

Photo: Charlotte Patmore

Maybe the word is transcendent, or spiritual, or sublime. Whatever phrase you favor, you know the feeling I’m talking about—the way a good song can transport you beyond the physical into the otherworldly. Not quite heaven but also not earth. Somewhere In-Between. Which is, by no coincidence, also the title of Eloise’s latest nine-track release, a delightfully dreamy escape that the romantics among us will be sure to devour.

“It’s all about growing pains, growing up, and how love changes form and meaning,” she shares, referencing the growth she experienced during her first extended tour. “I went on tour when I was 18 and when I came back I was 20. My whole life had changed in between that time and I hadn’t noticed,” she continues.

The changes were good—advancing her career, finding a new love interest—but change itself is unsettling and Eloise poured the emotion of that experience into her songwriting, reckoning with these shifts in tracks like “Enough” and “Who’s She.”

“It’s kind of about letting go of the old idea of what love was and loves that went with that,” says Eloise, who credits romantic love as one of her biggest inspirations. “It’s all consuming and what makes us alive.”

When you listen to each song, you can understand this process of hopeful catharsis and falling in love— and it’s not just because of the lyrics. Eloise masterfully employs elements of jazz, folk, and even hints of musical theater to make her point. The result is a wonderfully nostalgic yet purposefully current and evocative sound.

On tracks like “Trick of the Moon,” you can almost imagine her singing in an old-timey lounge about the pitfalls of love. It’s a definite nod to the great female jazz performers who came before her, and Eloise pulls it off. Make sure you listen to the very last “moon” to get the complete feeling. She further showcases her range on “BAMO,” a bright, bluesy, pop-inspired track and “Wanderlust,” a sweetly acoustic love song. There’s something for everyone on this album.

For a trip to the sublime, a momentary escape from this world into an ethereal dreamscape, trust Somewhere In-Between to take you there from start to finish.

Listen to Somewhere In-Between below:

[johnrossbowie]

LEAVING TWITTER

I wrote this earlier in the fall, before the election, after dissolving my Twitter account. I wasn’t sure where to put it (“try up your ass!” – someone, I’m sure) and then I remembered I have a tumblr I never use. Anyway, here tis.

How do you shame someone who thinks Trumps’ half-baked policies and quarter-baked messaging put him in the pantheon of great Presidents? How do you shame someone so lacking in introspection that they will call Obama arrogant while praising Trump’s decisiveness and yet at the same time vehemently deny that they’re racist? How do you shame someone for whom that racism is endearing and maybe long overdue?

You don’t. It’s silly to think otherwise.

Twitter is an addiction of mine, and true to form, my dependence on it grew more serious after I quit drinking in 2010. At first it was a chance to mouth off, make jokes both stupid and erudite and occasionally stick my foot in my mouth (I owe New Yorker writer Tad Friend an apology. He knows why, or (God willing) he’s forgotten. Either way. Sorry.) I blew off steam, steam that was accumulating without booze to dampen the flames. Not always constructive venting, but I also met new friends, and connected with people whose work I’ve admired for literal decades and ended up seeing plays with Lin-Manuel Miranda and hanging backstage with Jane Wiedlin after a Go-Go’s show and exchanging sober thoughts with Mike Doughty. When my mom passed in 2018, a lot of people reached out to tell me they were thinking of me. This was nice. For a while, Twitter was a huge help when I needed it.

I used to hate going to parties and really hated dancing and mingling, but a couple of drinks would fix that. Point is, for a while, booze was a huge help, too.

But my engagement with Twitter changed, and I started calling people my ‘friends’ even though I’d never once met them or even heard their voices. These weren’t even penpals, these were people whose jokes or stances I enjoyed, so with Arthurian benevolence I clicked on a little heart icon, liked their tweet, and assumed therefore that we had signed some sort of blood oath.

We had not. I got glib, and cheap, and a little lazy. And then to make matters much worse, Trump came along and extended his reach with the medium.

There was a while there where I thought I could be a sort of voice for the voiceless, and I thought I was doing that. I tried very hard to only contribute things that I felt were not being said – It wasn’t accomplishing anything to notice “Haha Trump looks like he’s bullshitting his way through an oral report” – such things were self-evident. I tried to point out very specific inconsistencies in his policies, like the Muslim ban meant to curb terrorism that still favored the country that brought forth 13 of the 9/11 hijackers. Like his full-throated cries against media bias performed while he suckled at Roger Ailes’ wrinkly teat.  Like his fondness for evangelical votes that coincided with a scriptural knowledge that lagged far behind mine, even though I’m a lapsed Episcopalian, and there is no one less religiously observant than a lapsed Episcopalian. But that eventually gave way to unleashing ad hominem attacks against his higher profile supporters, who I felt weren’t being questioned enough, who I felt were in turn being fawned over by theirdim supporters. If you’re one of these guys, and you think I’m talking about you, you’re probably right, but don’t mistake this for an apology. You suck, and you support someone who sucks, and your idolatry is hurting our country and its standing in the world. Fuck you entirely, but that’s not the point. The point is that me screaming into the toilet of Twitter helps no one – it doesn’t help a family stuck at the border because they’re trying to secure a better life for their kids. It doesn’t help a poor teenager who can’t get an abortion because the party of ‘small government’ has squeezed their tiny jurisdiction into her uterus. It doesn’t help the coal miner who’s staking all his hopes on a dying industry and a President’s empty promises to resurrect it. I was born in New York City, and I currently live in Los Angeles. Those are the only two places I’ve ever lived, if you don’t count the 4 years I spent in Ithaca[1]. So, yes, I live in a liberal bubble, and while I’ve driven across the country a couple of times and did a few weeks in a touring band and am as crushed as any heartlander about the demise of Waffle House, you have me dead to rights if you call me a coastal elitist. And with that in mind, I offer few surprises. A guy who grew up in the theater district and was vehemently opposed to same-sex marriage or felt you should own an AR-15? THAT would be newsworthy. I am not newsworthy. I can preach to the choir, I can confirm people’s biases, but I will likely not sway anyone who is eager to dismiss a Native New Yorker who lives in Hollywood. I grew up in the New York of the 1970s, and that part of my identity did shape my politics. My mom’s boss was gay and the Son of Sam posed a realistic threat. As such, gays are job creators[2] and guns are used for homicide much more often than they are used for self-defense[3]. I have found this to be generally true over the years, and there’s even data to back it up.

“But Mr. Bowie,” you might say, though I insist you call me John - “those studies are conducted by elitist institutions and those institutions suck!” And again, I am not going to reason with people who will dismiss anything that doesn’t fit their limited world view as elitist or, God Help Us, fake news. But the studies above are peer-reviewed, convincing, and there are more where those came from.

“But John,” you might say, and I am soothed that we’re one a first name basis - “Can’t you just stay on Twitter for the jokes?” Ugh. A) apparently not and B) the jokes are few and far between, and I am 100% part of that problem.

I have stuff to offer, but Twitter is not the place from which to offer it.

After years of academically understanding that Twitter is not the real world, Super Tuesday 2020 made the abstract pretty fucking concrete. If you had looked at my feed on the Monday beforehand – my feed which is admittedly curated towards the left, but not monolithic (Hi, Rich Lowry!) – you’d have felt that a solid Bernie surge was imminent, but also that your candidate was going surprise her more vocal critics. When the Biden sweep swept, when Bernie was diminished and when Warren was defeated, I realized that Twitter is not only not the real world, it’s almost some sort of Phillip K. Dickian alternate timeline, untethered to anything we’re actually experiencing in our day to day life. This is both good news and bad news – one, we’re not heading towards a utopia of single payer health care and the eradication of American medical debt any time soon, but two, we’re also not being increasingly governed by diaper-clad jungen like Charlie Kirk. Clouds and their linings. Leaving Twitter may look like ceding ground to the assclowns but get this – the ground. Is not. There.

It’s just air.

There are tangible things I can do with my time - volunteer with a local organization called Food On Foot, who provide food and job training for people experiencing homelessness here in my adopted Los Angeles. I can give money to candidates and causes I support, and I can occasionally even drop by social media to boost a project or an issue and then vanish, like a sort of Caucasian Zorro who doesn’t read his mentions. I can also model good behavior for my kids (ages 10 and 13) who don’t need to see their father glued to his phone, arguing about Trumps incompetence with Constitutional scholars who have a misspelled Bible verse in their bio (three s’ in Ecclesiastes, folks).

So farewell Twitter. I’ll miss a lot of you. Perhaps not as badly as I miss Simon Maloy and Roger Ebert and Harris Wittels and others whose deaths created an unfillable void on the platform. But I won’t miss the yelling, and the lionization of poor grammar, and anonymous trolls telling my Jewish friends that they were gonna leave the country “via chimney.” I will not miss people who think Trump is a stable genius calling me a “fucktard.” I will not miss transphobia or cancelling but I will miss hashtag games, particularly my stellar work during #mypunkmusical (Probably should have quit after that surge, I was on fire that night, real blaze of glory stuff I mean, Christ, Sunday in the Park with the Germs? Husker Du I Hear A Waltz? Fiddler on the Roof (keeping an eye out for the cops)? These are Pulitzer contenders.). Twitter makes me feel lousy, even when I’m right, and I’m often right. There’s just no point in barking bumperstickers at each other, and there are people who are speaking truth to power and doing a cleaner job of it – Aaron Rupar, Steven Pasquale, Louise Mensch, Imani Gandy and Ijeoma Oluo to name five solid mostly politically based accounts (Yes, Pasquale is a Broadway tenor. He’s also a tenacious lefty with good points and research and a dreamy voice. You think you’re straight and then you hear him sing anything from Bridges of Madison County and you want him to spoon you.). You’re probably already following those mentioned, but on the off chance you’re not, get to it. You’ll thank me, but you won’t be able to unless you actually have my email.

_______

[1] And Jesus, that’s worse – Ithaca is such a lefty enclave that they had an actual socialist mayor FOR WHOM I VOTED while I was there. And not socialist the way some people think all Democrats are socialist – I mean Ben Nichols actually ran on the socialist ticket and was re-elected twice for a total of six years.

[2] The National Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce, “America’s LGBT Economy” Jan 20th, 2017

[3] The Violence Policy Institute, Firearm Justifiable Homicides and Non-Fatal Self Defense Gun Use, July 2019.

[delicrieux]

imagine a marvel dark acadamia AU 👁👁

t-this .... ask..... possesed me... i—

Also I would not mind doing like a 100000 part series of this lmao!!

sub rosa

There were five of you, at the start. You, a soft voiced, dreamy-eyed pupil of English, studying in the most prestigious little somewhere amidst wild nature and lonely faced statues; Anthony, tall, flirtatious, awfully pretentious and always wearing and expensive ironed suit, muttering math equations and never failing to point out the flaws in most simple logic; Steve, a well built student of Politics whose kind face twisted into a fanatic frown at the mere mention of injustice; Robert, of shy disposition and awkward walk, always dragging along at least one Chemistry tomb; and Natasha, from the department of Psychology, a vixen with vivacious red hair and a catlike look that could read you at first glance as easily as a book. At the start neither of you got along: Steve was too passionate for Anthony, Robert was a pushover, Natasha fancied making your head spin. And how this friendship formed you cannot place in an accurate timeline, in one defining moment. The five of you were thrown together by chance and became something equally as magnificent as terrifying.

The halls are old and smell of chalk. Deep green tones complement the dark waxen wood and your ghostly face reflects on black-white checkered tiles. It’s late. The moon hangs like jewel. Warm yellow lights illuminate the otherwise empty space. Your footsteps echo. The English department is as silent as a grave, and no one should really wander around this late but ghost and ghouls. Alas, you finally reach the class, the one down the hall with the rose painting inside it, the one no one ever uses. You stop by the door and fix your hair before knocking seven times in a mellow pattern. A secret code. Without it you would never be able to get in.

The door creaks open and Steve smiles when he realizes it’s you. He steps aside and you enter, hearing bits and pieces of ending conversation. Once the door closes the students turn to you. Anthony, in his rightful place, at the center (always the most important once, he should’ve studied theater with his love of theatrics and drama), turns to you with a wine glass in hand and smirks; Bruce merely waves from one of the empty seats; Natasha takes a sip of her drink and winks. You note an unfamiliar figure sat beside her and the two of you lock eyes.

“Finally.” Anthony breaks the silence, his tone weaving between annoyance and amusement. You shoot him a glare. He merely raises a brow, “You are always late. This is your department.”

“Aw, Tony, can’t stand anyone stealing your spotlight?” Natasha questions in a sing like tone.

“As if anyone could.” He mumbles into his wine.

“This is Wanda.” Steve explains behind you and you startle at his gentle voice. You stalk to the woman and extend your hand to her, which she shakes with an uncertain smile. From up close, her features obscured by the dimness of the room, she looks lovely-eyes, death-touched — a witch.

“Pleasure.” You mutter before pulling away. Natasha shoves a drink into your hand.

“She and her twin brother enrolled this September.” Steve explains.

“She’s not mute, Steve.” Anthony drones, hopping on the teacher’s table and loosening his tie, “Let her speak.”

“I—“ Steve’s cheeks burn purple in the moonlight, “I—never...”

The tension is cut off with Natasha’s laugh. The whole room stops to listen.

“You two are too cute.” She says, then turns to you, “What were you doing?”

“Reading.” You state simply.

“You can read?” Anthony questions.

You frown, “You can rot.”

“Is it... always this lively?” Wanda asks.

“They’re usually trying to stab each other by now. This is pretty tame, so far.” Steve mutters.

“That’s because I hid all the knifes.” Bruce pipes up.

“Traitor.” Anthony hisses, “How will I cut up my toast now?”

“Ask your maid?” You inquire, pleased at his dismay. He scoffs. “Anyway—“ As entertaining as it is to irritate him, more pressing matters are at hand, “I did not know we were recruiting new members.” Your tone is matter-o-fact, though not unkind. Wanda stiffens under your stare, “Do pray tell, why are you here?”

“Because I want answers.”

“To what?”

“Everything.”

Ah!, you think. All of you have gathered here for the exact same thing. Knowledge. To seek answers to questions that cannot be explained yet; to reach a higher plain of consciousness; to become the modern day equivalents of Greek Gods.

You smile at her and it is the first genuine smile she has received today, “Well then. You will fit in nicely.”

[astorchronicles]

The production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by the Grandstreet Theatre could only be described by one word: dreamy. Invited by Arthur Astor to celebrate the beginning of a new school year and the reopening of the Alpha Theater, Montana’s beloved theater company did not disappoint, bringing to the campus a whimsical play about four individuals in different journeys for love, and faeries. What could be a better combination than love and magic, right? Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream is one of the most frequently produced plays of the 16th century playwright and has always been a fan favorite, with its comedic themes and amusing scenes, but with underlying tones of darkness in the portrayal of the multiple romantic story lines. It was evident by the standing ovation they received from the student body, faculty, and staff of Astor Academy that the play was very much enjoyed, and the resonating sound of applause continued until the curtain call.

However, this was not what the student body of Astor Academy was talking about by the end of the evening. Not even at the mixer that was prepared. Because by the time they arrived at the East Wing dining hall, full of excitement both from the play and for the dinner party ahead, they found that the exquisitely prepared hall had been turned upside down. They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, and it couldn’t be truer in this case, as we find ourselves unable to accurately describe the destruction that was supposed to have been the dinner party. 

Naturally, Arthur Astor was furious at such an indecent display, and held an urgent school assembly the very next morning, promising both to the actors of Grandstreet Theatre and the entire student body and staff of Astor Academy that they will not rest until the people responsible for these unforgivable acts are caught and properly sanctioned. 

It seems like what happened at the East Wing dining hall, now out of bounds, is similar to what transpired at the Alpha Theater just months ago. We’ve all been made aware of the existence of a group of people who call themselves ‘the Arsonists’, and are no stranger to the terrors they have caused the student population. But from small pranks and scares, it seems they have extended their repertoires and have begun indulging in grand schemes of destruction. If their intention for wrecking what would have been a beautiful evening was to anger the administration, they certainly achieved their goal for Arthur Astor has made a statement that they will extensively investigate the matter. Any and all involvement in the aforementioned group will result to the appropriate disciplinary actions or, if worse comes to worse, expulsion.

The following students have been deemed suspicious and are currently being investigated regarding their activities the night of the incident. Furthermore, their involvement in the so called “Arsonists” is being questioned.

Almeida, Agata

Amano, Margaret

Deschamps, Florian

Fitzgerald, Anastasia

Haldar, Kellan

Kensington, Reese

Rose, Andrew

Wang, Soren

OKAY so I’m basically just gonna give you guys kind of an idea on how the interrogation would go??? They’d probably be called to the headmaster’s office in the middle of class/sometime during the day, one by one, over the course of the following days. There is a set of questions written down below so that you guys will know how your characters will be interrogated but, basically, the headmaster probably tried to suggest that they are involved with the Arsonists and are responsible for the whole thing. You guys can have your characters make use of this information however you want, may it be in a self-para or in simple threads. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot us a message!

Where, exactly, were you the evening of the play?

Is there anyone who can corroborate your story for you?

What did you do in response to the incident?

Did you witness anything worth noting during that evening?

Tell us everything you know about the Arsonists.

[whentherewerebicycles]

jes i need to know the full extent of your lotr obsession. how comprehensively did it raise you? how deep did we go? books? dvd extended editions? production commentaries? did it leave a mark on you that you carried with you through life?

jamila.. yes to all of these things. i honestly can’t remember how i first came across the books - for some reason i feel like my mom gave them to me, even though i cannot imagine her ever reading them? but they were definitely old, beat-up copies i inherited from somebody in my family. Google informs me they are the 1982 Michael Herring covers and GOD they were ugly:

i first started reading them when i was 10 or 11, and i remember i used to take them to the endless kansas city royals games my dad took us to… god those baseball games would last 3-4 HOURS and you’d just be sitting there forever.. sports are so boring to me… anyway i was only allowed to take one book in with me and i wasn’t about to risk finishing it early and having nothing to read!! so i took the densest books i could find and just sat there in kauffman stadium doggedly ignoring the sports happening around me. if i couldn’t stop sports from happening in the world, i could at least refuse to pay any attention!! here is the stadium, if you would like to picture an extremely irritable 11-year-old jes reading in the stands:

then the first film came out when i was 12? and @bottleupandexplode​ and i got super into it. i think i must’ve just seen the first one normally in theaters (is that right macky?) but then we definitely went to The Two Towers and Return of the King at the midnight screenings. i wish i could remember all the details of our fannish obsession. i think we saw every one of the films 6 or 7 times in theaters – just a truly wild number of times for v young teenagers to attend a 3+ hour film!! for TT and ROTK, we definitely also went to Walmart at midnight to buy the dvd extended editions (did we watch them immediately? surely not? so why did we have to go at midnight? THAT IS JUST THE WAY OF THINGS. THESE ARE THE SACRED RITUALS OF FANDOM.) macky and i also purchased fabric, found patterns, and sewed ourselves hobbit costumes to attend one of the midnight screenings (was it TT?). here we are:

macky just texted me this photo and said “am I clenching my fists in like, nervous excitement?” presumably so!! as you can see i had also purchased the One Ring to wear on a chain around my neck. I did not only wear it when I was in costume either!!

i probably tried to teach myself one of the Elvish dialects, but i have never been able to learn human languages that are not my own, let alone invented fantasy languages! i cannot remember if shipping was at all a part of my early fandom experience – i want to say no? i feel like i discovered shipping in earnest with harry potter? but i definitely remember that we created our own Geocities fansites devoted to the objects of our affection, and one of my greatest fandom regrets is not screenshotting it!! it involved many different font colors, questionable typography choices, and flashing headers. my username was probably something like “mrselijahwood” because i was OBSESSED. those dreamy blue eyes… that slightly helpless expression on his face… his need to be rescued from dangerous situations by sturdier men… the TRAUMA of carrying the Ring… little did i know i was laying the groundwork for all of my fic preferences forevermore!

it has probably been at LEAST 10 years since i last rewatched the films or revisited the books, because it almost feels too intense? like do i really want to reopen that chapter of my life? can my heart bear it? but i feel like there are so many parts of both that are permanently imprinted on my soul. like just writing this i kept having shivery flashbacks to particular scenes and just remembering how i FELT in the theater watching them.

GOD one of the things that i value most about fandom is that being a fan teaches you that human beings are capable of intensities of feeling that you would NEVER KNOW ABOUT if you just lived an ordinary non-fannish life. it’s not just the experience of being thrilled to the core of your being (although that definitely happens too!), it’s like, you almost MERGE spiritually with the cultural object you love, except it’s so much bigger than you and is loved passionately by SOOOOO many people, and so your passionate devotion to something almost seems to extend your own sensory-emotional experiences, like you are not just a single person loving a book or film, you are this node within this network of passionate adoration, and every feeling you have is amplified and fed into a kind of feedback loop with this network and so the intensity just ramps up and it feels like you are feeling feelings that are SO MUCH BIGGER THAN YOUR BODY, so much wilder and HUGER and more intense than could possibly be encompassed within the frame of your individual self!!!! i cannot even describe it but i am sure you know it i am sure you know how ELECTRIFYING it is!!!! like you’re wholly lit up from within by this passion that is so intensely personal and yet feels like it transcends you and will outlast you and outlive you!!! THAT IS HOW I FELT ABOUT LORD OF THE RINGS!!!!