#hes very insistent that its purely a business relationship and the quality of the party itself is all that really matters

[raitrolling]

also seeing vil get mentioned in ol + ase’s rp made me think more about viltau’s subjug parties

given how serious subjugs get about their religion the only ones who would hire him to organise their events would be ones who were fine with indigo nonbelievers / are okay with him being there as long as he wears the paint (and holds his tongue cuz he hates subjugs but enjoys being able to go full ham with their parties lmao), but also hes uh. not immune to chucklevoodoos

theres definitely been at least one party where all he remembers is the event starting, and then the next thing he knows is that hes somehow ended up back at his hive completely disheveled, covered in blood, and with a massive migraine. what happened? who knows! is that blood his? who knows! did he even get paid for all his work afterwards? who knows! all that matters to him is that he had fun and the trolls who employed him were satisfied with the end result

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 11:  A Turkey Called Marv

Summary: Nat, Clint, Evans, Lawson and the rest of her SHIELD team throw Katie a leaving party once news of her resignation spreads across the Triskellion before Katie and Steve head to New York to spend their first Thanksgiving as a couple with Tony, Pepper and Bruce.

Paring: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: None for this chap, bar a bit of bad language and teeth rotting fluff

A/N: Accompanying One Shot- The Life Of Marv. 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 10

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

November 2013

News of Katie’s spectacular resignation spread like wildfire through the Triskellion. Evans, Lawson, Natasha and Clint had all been pretty upset but had understood when she had explained why she was doing it, even if Natasha didn’t necessarily agree. They had no intention of letting her go quietly, however, and the team took it upon themselves to organise a small Leaving do at Lori’s which was in full swing. Background music was playing, food had arrived and the drinks were flowing. Steve was talking to Lawson, Rumlow and Evans by the bar, leaning against it, an easy smile on his face as Katie stood with Clint and Natasha a bit further down the bar as Clint was talking to them about his latest home improvement plan.  

“So I thought about putting in a pool.” Clint mused, “Now the kids are bigger I thought it might be nice to have one. Maybe even a pool house round it for bad weather.”

“How ambitious.” Nat quirked an eyebrow.

Clint grinned. “That’s my middle name.”

“Really?” Katie asked. “I always thought it was Robert.”

“What?” Clint looked at her as Nat snorted out a laugh.  "Francis.  Why would you think its Robert?“

Katie shrugged "You look like a Bob.”

“Wait… so it’s not Ambitious?” Nat asked, winking at Katie. “How boring.”

Katie nodded, draining her glass.  "Bob would have been better.”

"Right,” Clint started, pulling himself taller. “I hate both of you.”

The girls laughed and Nat turned to Katie. “So what’s in the pipeline for you now Nova?” “I have no idea.” Katie shrugged and she didn’t. “I guess I’ll just get more involved in the family business.”

“You gonna move to New York?” Clint asked. She shook her head. “Probably spend a bit more time there but, I’m not moving back.”

“Nah, she can’t leave lover boy.” Natasha looked at Clint and Katie rolled her eyes. Truth is Nat had hit the nail on the head. No way was she leaving Steve in DC to move back to the tower. Although they had only been together seven months she had spent over a year of her life being ‘with him’ one way or another and the thought of him not being there terrified her.

“You know, to be fair Nat, they’ve been going out a while now. Things are probably starting to cool off.” Clint teased “Oh trust me, there’s no problems in that department.” Katie sniggered, looking over to where Steve was stood.

“And would you look at that. I’m out of alcohol…” Nat said, suddenly “And so is Stark.”

“There’s a bar over there,” Clint pointed

“Cheers…”Natasha took Katie’s glass and handed it to him along with her own. Clint shook his head taking the glasses with a sigh.

“So… now he’s gone…” Nat glanced over at Steve then back to Katie “Gimme details…”

“Details on what?”

“Throw me a bone here Stark. I’m working on a dry spell.”

“Why are you so obsessed with my sex life?” Katie groaned. “You’re constantly trying to get me to talk about it.”

“Hey, look, up until a few months ago I was convinced he was a virgin.”

“Well then you’re a dumbass.” Katie smirked “Like I said, he’s Captain America, had girls throwing themselves at him back in the day.” “So he was until the serum?”

“I never said that.” Katie flushed.

“You’re such a shit liar.”

“Can we change the subject?”

“Ok, answer me one question and then I’ll drop it.” Nat pressed.

“What?” Katie snapped with an air of playful frustration. If she was honest, it was quite nice to have a girlfriend to chat to about these kind of secrets.

“Did the serum enhance…everything?” Nat wiggled her eyebrows.

Katie glanced over at Steve and smirked before she looked back at her. Fuck it.

“Well if it didn’t, I’ve no idea how he managed to stay upright before.” she smirked "I’m a lucky woman”

The red head threw back her head in a dirty laugh, a laugh that Katie had never heard from her before and it made her snigger at the sight of the normally composed assassin letting loose.

“What I miss?” Clint asked as he reappeared, handing them their drinks.

“I’ll explain when you’re older…” Nat said, patting his chest fondly.

*****

The next two weeks flashed by and before they knew it, it was the morning before thanksgiving and they were at the Tower in New York. Last year Katie and Steve had spent Thanksgiving as friends. This year they were spending it as lovers, and Katie was also excited to be spending it with Tony, although she would never admit that out loud.

Steve was also looking forward to it as well. Tony had mellowed to him somewhat over the past few months, especially when he had found out Steve was supporting Katie’s decision to quit SHIELD and not trying to stop her as he had original thought the Captain would. He was also looking forward to Katie’s damned fine cooking as well. Despite the fact that Tony had offered to cater in as Pepper was away until the very last minute, his girl had insisted on cooking it herself, especially now she had plenty of time on her hands.  

As such, Steve and Tony had left her in the kitchen area of the main living quarters at midday to head down to the lab to discuss some further upgrades to the Tower. When they left Katie had been surrounded by bags of flour and ingredients, and when Steve returned he found her at just gone 5:30 surrounded by 3 pies (one apple, one pumpkin and one blackberry) pans of vegetables prepped ready for the and a turkey in the oven ready for JARVIS to turn on in the morning. She was stood at the sink, gently humming, the kitchen now clean and the smell of her baking making his mouth water.

“What are you doing Soldier?” Katie asked, jumping a little as Steve’s arms came around her sides, reaching for the sink, effectively trapping her between the counter and his body.

He laid his chin on her shoulder. “The dishes,”

“I’m only leaving the pie dish to soak.” She informed him, turning her head to give him a quick kiss. “The rest are going in the Dishwasher.”

“Oh because God forbid her majesty would actually wash a dish.” He teased and she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t wash them much either. How many brushes did you break last week?”

“The plastic is bad quality.” Steve pouted.

“Nothing to do with your ridiculously large hands being too rough.” “You weren’t complaining last night.” He grinned, lips warm against her neck as he gently nipped under her ear. Katie squirmed a little and then swatted him in the face with the dishtowel, and he laughed out loud.

“Seriously though Doll face, are you nearly done? You’ve been in here all afternoon. You do know we’re not eating till 3 tomorrow, right?” His hands squeezed her hips and she tossed the dishcloth down and turned to face him, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders.

“Yeah but the more I do now, the less I have to do tomorrow, and let’s face it, it’s not like I have anything else to do, on account of being an unemployed bum.” She shrugged making Steve laugh again.  “Plus, I just want everything to be, you know…right.” she shrugged, and she did.

“It’s a dinner.”

“It’s Thanksgiving” She corrected him.

“Yeah, and last years was pretty cool, remember?”

“Yeah but…” she trailed off, biting her lip. Steve knew that look well enough now to know there was more to this.

“What?” He probed gently.

“Nothing, just, well I never had a boyfriend over for Thanksgiving before. Or Christmas come to think of it.”

Steve smiled “I like being your first…” Katie grinned. The whole ‘I like being your first’ thing had started off by her saying it to Steve but they’d fast come to realise that they actually both had a world of inexperience between them when it came to relationships, and it was nice that they could be each other’s firsts in a lot of ways.  “Honey, tomorrow is gonna be great.” He assured, tipping her face up to look at his “Don’t sweat it.”

“Did you seriously just say don’t sweat it?” she sniggered.

Steve groaned “I told you I spent the afternoon with your brother…”

She giggled and leaned up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“Getting kinda tired of catching you two making out in a kitchen!” Tony chose that time to waltz in and open the fridge door, pointing to them as he did so. “You got your own floor, piss off and go use it.” ******

Katie woke the next morning to find Steve’s side of the bed empty and cold. It wasn’t unusual for him to be up earlier than her, she knew he would either be out running, in the gym or making coffee. She climbed out of bed and walked to the blinds of the bedroom, instructing JARVIS to open them, the AI being one of the many perks about being 'home’. The New York skyline stretched below her and as she glanced down she saw the people gathered on the sidewalks, attention turned to the streets, obviously waiting for the Thanksgiving Parade. She had asked Steve if he wanted to go and watch it in person but he had said he would prefer to stay in and watch from the tower as he didn’t fancy getting mobbed in the street. Being recognised by one person every so often was fine but in those crowds if one person spotted him then it would spread like wildfire. Besides, as he had pointed out, her floor had an awesome view so they could watch out of the window with a drink. Katie frowned as suddenly a large brown turkey shaped balloon floated in front of her eyes. The parade wasn’t supposed to start until nine and that meant by the time it made its way to the Avengers tower it would be… she turned and glanced at the click and gave a yelp. She had slept in until Ten. 

Steve heard her before he saw her, not that he needed super hearing to hear the loud yell of "how fucking late?” coming from the bedroom. Grinning to himself he turned back to the griddle on the island of the kitchen, flipping a pancake with one hand and drinking a coffee with the other. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Katie grumbled to him as she leaned in the kitchen doorway, taking him in for a moment. He was freshly showered, dressed in a loose grey t-shirt and sweats, hair still a bit damp and spiked up in a way that made her smile. “Because you were up early yesterday and I thought I’d make you breakfast for a change.” He shrugged as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into the back of his shoulder. The smell of his shower gel mixed with the smell of the pancake mix, made her nuzzle her nose into him to inhale deeply. “You smell good.” She eventually spoke again. “Good to know.” A grin tugged at the corners of his lips at the fact she was still clinging to him. “I just saw a giant inflatable Turkey.” Her hands dropped and slid under his T-shirt, gently rubbing at his stomach. “What?” Steve paused. “The parade”

Steve smiled. “You know when I was a kid, the parade was the best part of Thanksgiving.” “Yeah?” she mumbled, her cheek still pressed to his shoulder.

“Yeah. Me and Bucky used to come into Manhattan with his family and my ma if she wasn’t working and stuff ourselves on popcorn and warm mixed nuts” He smiled to himself at the memory. They always picked out their favourite balloons, ate until they thought they would burst, and made Rebecca, Bucky’s younger sister laugh till she cried by pretending they were in the marching bands. But once the war started, the parade had ended. He had never realized that they started it up again until Tony and Katie had mentioned it last night as they had sat eating takeout. Part of him had wanted to go to the street to watch it but after seeing that morning how crowded it had been on his run he was happy to watch it from the comfort of Katie’s floor. He turned to face her for first time that day, her arms still round his waist. Her hair was pulled up into a pony tail, face fresh, eyes bright and she was, as ever, in one of his shirts and not a lot else. He leaned forward to give her a quick kiss and when he moved away, she quickly closed the space to give him another, letting her lips linger on his for a second. “I’ll burn the pancakes.” He murmured and she grinned, pulling away. “I’ll make fresh coffee.” She pat his chest and turned to the machine. “Hey JAR…Hit me with some Christmas tunes, buddy” “The usual Miss Stark?” “As long as it has the Pogues on…” “Wouldn’t dream of not doing” the AI replied and then the apartment was flooded with the sounds of ‘Fairy Tale of New York.’ “It’s November.” Steve turned to look at her, but she simply grinned to herself and turned around, singing to him. He couldn’t help but laugh, he knew from last year that Christmas for her started at Thanksgiving and ended on New Year’s Day. Plus the fact that the previous year she had spent Christmas day fighting a bunch of exploding super soldiers meant that she was going to enjoy this year as much as possible. He shook his head, a low chuckle escaping before he turned back to his pancakes. They dragged the cushions off the couch and ate breakfast sat by the huge floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, Katie sat between Steve’s legs as they both watched the parade. Suddenly, a large green balloon floated by the window and Katie gave a loud squeal when she saw what it was. A Hulk float. An amused smile spread across her lips as she watched the balloon bob in front of the window, twisting to the sides in the air as it wrestled with the wind. “Oh my God!” Katie giggled again, gently tapping Steve’s right calf but he had already spotted it. A massive shield was coming out, followed by Iron Man’s mask, Thor’s hammer, a bow and arrow, Natasha’s Red Widow symbol and her own Nova star. She turned to look at him, a little smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth and when he met her eyes the smile broke out across his features. Laughing in disbelief, he shook his head, turning his attention back look at the shield float bounce down the street. “That’s pretty cool.” He allowed himself a slightly smug and amazed sigh, and it was. If anyone had told him all those years ago that one day he would feature in the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade he would have told them that they were mad. Yet there it was. He found himself smiling as he thought about how his ma and Bucky would have reacted. When they had finished eating, Katie leaned back into him a little more, slouching so that her knees were bent and her feet rested on the bottom of the window. His arms reached round her neck, and he kissed the back of her head as they continued to watch the floats, the gentle sound of Bing Crosby “White Christmas” now playing through the room, the two of them simply enjoying the closeness of one another. ***** Eventually it was time to head downstairs and join Tony, Bruce and Pepper for their dinner. Katie and Pepper left the men to it and finished off the prep before calling them all to the table. As was tradition, as ‘head of the house’ Tony carved the turkey with his usual, trademark drama and they took it in turns to give a few things they were thankful for. Tony was thankful for his friends, family and a decent brand of scotch he had in the cupboard for later, Pepper was thankful for being so fortunate and being surrounded by people she loved, Bruce was thankful for being welcomed into their family home, not just for today but since he had taken up residency just after the Chitauri Battle, and Katie was thankful for being in the presence of people she cared for, and for the last year being so much better than the previous twelve months. She shot a wink at Steve as she said that and he beamed before he realised they were waiting for him.

 "Okay, well…” He cleared his throat. “I guess I’m thankful for being given a second chance, being welcomed by you all…and for, err, you.” He grinned at Katie who gave him a playful roll of the eyes but the flush on her cheeks told him she had understood.

“Awww.” Pepper smiled, as Tony made a gagging noise which resulted in Katie throwing a carrot at him. He pointed at her, frowning.

“No food fights on my floor, Kiddo.” He said sternly and she simply raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of her wine.

The food was good, not that anyone expected anything else. Both Tony and Banner managed two servings whilst Steve made it through three. And then there was the pie. Steve scoffed down a piece of each, whilst everyone else could only face one, but no one cared. And he found himself secretly pleased that there was enough left for him to scoff later on.

“I’m so glad I wore leggings.” Pepper sighted, leaning back and massaging her stomach.  

“Tell me about it.” Katie moaned. “I’m so glad this denims have an elasticated waist.” She pulled at the middle of her long maroon peplum style top. “Think I’m having a food baby.”

“Yeah, I gotta hand it to you Kiddo…” Tony leaned back in his chair, undoing the top button of his pants and massaging his stomach “That was absolutely awesome.“

Steve’s hand dropped to his girl’s leg under the table and he gave her knee a little squeeze as she reached for her wine glass, before he moving his arm to drop it round the back of her chair. "I certainly prefer the Turkey dead and cooked anyway” Tony added and Katie groaned. “Are you ever gonna let me live that down?” She looked at him. “No” he shook his head. “What’s this?” Steve asked, setting his glass down. “Did she not tell you about the time she brought home a live Turkey one year? Katie sighed as Steve sat up, turning to her, smirking "No…” “I was seventeen and going through a meat is murder phase.” She waved away the comment with her hands. “I was in the way home and saw him. He was the only one left in the farmyard so I liberated him” “By liberated she means stole.” Tony quipped, standing up to retrieve two more bottled of Rijoca from the wet bar as laughs rang round the table. “No one came looking for him.” She shrugged. “Marv lived a happy life for five years in our back garden” “Marv?” Bruce looked at her, a smile creeping across his face. “After the character from Home Alone.” She replied simply

“You had a turkey called Marv?” The scientist deadpanned and she nodded.

“He was a great pet. Used to chase Tony around” “The bird was a fucking menace.” Tony frowned, topping everyone’s glass up. Settling back into his chair, Katie noticed Pepper giving him a look and he started suddenly as if he was remembering something. He leaned forward and looked at Katie. "So I know we don’t do Thanksgiving gifts kiddo but I was thinking yesterday about something you said to me once, about having a vision for a publishing company.”

Katie stole a look at Steve who simply shrugged. It was true, when she had first graduated she had thought about setting up a publishing company, but one that dealt with unknown writers. Her favourite books in the world were the Harry Potter series and during her degree she had been lucky enough to attend a small seminar held by JK Rowling, who had openly discussed her life before becoming a famous author. She had been a single mother, struggling to make ends meet, and even after she had written the books it took her years to get a deal, being rejected by four different publishers before Bloomsbury (a small, independent group) took a chance on her and it paid off for both of them. Katie loved the rags to riches story and since then had always harboured a desire to do the same thing for other authors but it had never really been much more than a pipe dream.

“It was an idea I once had.” She shrugged, looking at Tony. “Then things went a bit crazy.” “Well… how about we make it a bit more than an idea?” Pepper said. “What?” Katie frowned, looking at Pepper, then he brother who nodded. “I want you to put a proper proposal together, business plan, mood and story board that type of thing.” He said, waving his hand in that Tony-esque manner “Then we’re gonna look at what we need to set it up and take it to the board. Run it as a Ltd company under the Parent company of Stark Industries, but you’ll be the Managing Director.” “I…, I can’t run a business!” She stammered. “Didn’t you run the UK branch of SI for a while?” Bruce looked at her, smiling. “That was different.” She pressed. “Why?” Steve asked. “Shut up Steven.” She shot without even looking at him.

There were a few chuckles round the table before Tony continued. “Look, you don’t need to work.” He shrugged. “You have enough capitol behind you plus the revenue from the business as it to live your life out as an IT girl,  but we both know you’ll end up killing someone if you get bored, and that’s likely to be Cap seeing as you see him most so this is for him as much as you.” “Thanks Tony.” Steve tipped his glass to the Inventor who winked. Katie pondered. It really had been a dream of hers since leaving Uni, putting her degree and passion into her work and she would be lying if she said the thought didn’t excite her but it was a hell of a big commitment, and what if it all failed?

“I’ll help you.” Pepper smiled at Katie who was biting her lip. "I’ll proof read the proposal and I’ll be there every step of the way whilst you set up.” She leaned back in her chair. "The week before Christmas there’s another board meeting. I suggest we use that to pitch the idea.” 

“I think this could be a great opportunity for you and Stark Industries.” Tony looked at Katie. “And you’ll get full autonomy over it all, I promise.” This was amazing. She looked at Steve who nodded encouragingly. “What is it you keep saying to me? You’ll never know until you try?” he smiled at her. She took a deep breath and looked around the table before throwing caution to the wind and letting out a huge grin. “Ok. Fuck it. Let’s do it.” **** After another half an hour or so of chatter, and a bottle of champagne to celebrate Katie’s agreement to the business idea, everyone chipped in to clear the table before retiring to the plush living area of Tony and Pepper’s floor for more drinks and chat. Then the alcohol really did began to flow, Steve and Tony moving onto the scotch,  the soldier watching as everyone around him descended into that well recognised drunken haze. And then out came ‘Drawing Without Dignity’, a game Steve had never played before which was really rather vulgar, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it. The game fast slid into chaos which was to be expected with an extremely competitive Super Soldier who had a natural advantage as he could actually draw, an equally competitive billionaire and a normally mild mannered scientist who also was quite cutthroat when it came to winning it turned out.

Pepper and Katie spent most of the time sniggering at the bickering men, and at the point when they were laughing that much when it was their go, the three boys got so frustrated they banned them from playing. For that, the next time Steve asked Katie what one of the more risqué sayings meant (he had cringed at a fair few of them over the course of the evening) she lied to sabotage him earning her a full on Captain glare. “That was a pretty shitty thing to do.” He grumbled at her as Tony and Bruce were both howling with laughter. “Not my fault Captain Badass doesn’t know what Rimming is!” Katie shot back, wiping away her tears. Steve had to bite back his own laugh at the ridiculous nickname, instead he fixed her with another glare which she returned with a simple shrug of her shoulders. The game ended, and Steve and Tony called it a draw, which was probably the easiest thing to do since Pepper had stopped taking count and tallying towards the end. It was now well after ten pm and Steve looked around the room as Tony stood up, a little unsteady on his feet, teetering back over to the bar.

“I think maybe we’ve had enough.” Pepper hiccupped slightly looked at Tony who had been reaching for another bottle of liquor, wheeled round slightly too fast causing him to stumble into the bar.

Katie cackled as Tony looked at Pepper “Shut up Mom.” he grabbed another bottle of scotch in one hand and the open bottle of Krug the girls were drinking in the other. He walked carefully over towards the sofa, as he dropped down into it heavily, handing the champagne to Katie who was on the floor in between Steve’s legs, her back resting against the sofa. She took it and poured herself and Pepper a glass, quite pleased that she didn’t spill any.

“You know he…he can’t get drunk!”  Tony handed Bruce a now full glass, pointing to Steve.

“That’s sad.” Bruce surmised, taking a sip of his drink before Tony sat bolt upright, and pointed at the scientist.

“Hey, I wonder if Hulk can get drunk?”

“That’s an…that’s an…ex…exper-expediment I don’t think we should do.” Bruce shook his head, hiccups punctuating his speech.

“Absolutely not.” Steve shook his head as Katie cackled.

“But it would be for science purposes.” Tony pressed

Bruce wrinkled his nose and shook his head “No Code Green.” “Spoil sport.” Tony sniffed

They stayed for another hour or so, until Pepper fell asleep. Katie’s cheeks were flushed pink and when she asked for a bottle of water Steve knew it was time to go. After asking Tony if he needed help clearing anything up, which he declined stating housekeeping would be in at some point tomorrow to deal with it, Steve stood up, surprised to find he actually felt a little bit of a head-rush. Ok, so maybe the three bottles of scotch they’d managed to go through had had a little effect after all, but he felt the fizziness ebbing away as he pulled Katie to her feet and she grinned up at him.

“Wanna carry me Soldier?” she asked.

He arched an eyebrow and in one swoop had her over his shoulder, causing her to shriek with laughter as she clutched at his navy blue cardigan jacket.

“Night!” She waved from her upside down position. Tony and Bruce waved distractedly from where they were now trying to mix some form of cocktail at the bar.

“You can put me down now.” Katie patted Steve on his back as they boarded the elevator. “Steve…”

He smirked to himself, ignoring her giggles and protests, swatting lightly at her ass, and didn’t put her down until they reached  the bedroom where he tossed her onto the bed and set about showing her exactly how thankful for her he was

******* If you want to read more about Marv the Turkey, check out the One shot: The Life Of Marv. As with all SSB One Shots, they don’t need to be read to understand the main story...consider them tasty little side dishes.

********

Chapter 12 Part 1

**Original Posting**

[necipyesiltepe-blog]

WHAT IS ART

1

The presentation of a concept, approach, view angle, message, image, color, form, sound;

which was already existing but never noticed, looked but never seen, untaught, unheard;

Or never existed, not formed, composed-joined-extracted-filtered;

with a new aesthetic that has existed or never existed Artistic work,

presented and accepted-examined-confirmed and declared as a good quality of Work of Art by respectful, unprejudiced, neutral experts, art consultants, teachers, art lovers and market professionals with respected education-knowledge-experience of eyes and mind is named according to us an “Art”.

The value of the work is determined by the ratio of being the first-single-original i.e. unique piece. Product quality is the primary factor in the determination of the price in the purchase and sale, the reputation of the producer is the second factor, the third factor is the story about the heroes or painted scene in the work, and the most important factor is that if it belongs to the most appreciated period of the career of the artist. The similarity of the original and the reproduction of all kinds of prints increases the value of the original.

The person who could make this work proved his technical ability, talent, reasoning, decision-making features, and intelligence, no matter if this work is his first and only one, according to us, is named an “Artist”.

Works out of this definition can only be accepted as artistic exercises made for his own pleasure, it should not be presented or mentioned as Art, or exhibited in Professional art galleries with a price tag. Its value-priced is “out of” Professional quotation.

It can, of course, be exhibited in a friendly party or aid association auctions and it can be sold according to the name and reputation of the painter’s family, the audience and the aim of the auction. Sometimes such objects are left to the seller after the donation is made to the association. So the reason for the sales is a courtesy, public relations, support for a humanitarian cause or the sympathy of the buyer to the seller.

The final point is the happiness of the buyer and seller with the purchase unless the presentation is not made in a professional level and not presented to the public as a Work of Art, it is none of anybody else’s business to comment on the joyful, meaningful share of his painting with friends.

2

It is the aesthetic expression of human emotions which cannot be put into certain patterns.

Art is a phenomenon that exists in every period of human history.

Evolution of humanity has changed the way they live, their view of life, their way of art and their view of art.

Today, the fact that art has an “emotional and intellectual influence power” is more decisive.

According to Thomas Munro, who makes the most appropriate definition for this understanding; “Art is the ability to create impulses to create hearty aesthetic experiences”.

Beauty is what Art is concerned with. However, we know the Beauty is a relative concept. Even if anything is inconsistent harmony no matter how it is ugly, painful, disgusting. It should be considered aesthetically beautiful.

Art is explained differently according to objective and subjective approaches. In an objective approach, art is created by social influences, and by a purely individual in a subjective approach.

According to Kant; There is no purpose of art, except for art itself. His only purpose is himself. Fine art can only be created by genius people. According to Hegel, beauty in art is superior to beauty in nature. Art is the product of the human mind. One must find a purpose other than the imitation of nature.

According to Marx; creative action is a stage of the interaction of man and nature, which carries a social character. Art is a phenomenon that humanizes life. Art must be developed in an effort to reach a creative, multi-dimensional universal person.

Croce; Expression is more important than beauty. Art is the unity of intuition and expression. It is an individual and theoretical activity. Nature can be beautiful with the interpretation of the artist.

Consequently, Art is an area where intelligence at the level of genius is embodied in a coherent unity in response to the existent.

Because the artist is in front of his age with his intelligence and intuition, there is little understanding of real art. You need to make an effort to understand it.

Art is an expression of our thoughts, our emotions, our intuition, and our desires, or even more personal: it is about sharing our way of experiencing the world, which is an extension of personality for many.

Of course, there are certain rules and education process. The artist can determine the degree of artistry as well as the masses.

But in essence, it cannot be attributed to the artist’s artistry and the quality of the work of art.

It is obvious that people feel sympathy for those familiar or parallel to their own taste.

There can be no classification among artists because each one strives for creation, but the distinction between artist and non-artist is essential, otherwise, the value of art and the value of law are reduced.

3

Art is not done without thinking.

Even if you look to any abstract painting and you like the colors and the lines but the Artist doesn’t have his own manifest and reason for making this image if you don’t feel intelligence in the background of this work you can not name it Art.  It can be interesting or beautiful but if this final image is obtained by accident or coincidence you can not name it Art, of course, it is something which you can hang on the wall, it can help the decoration of the room and you can enjoy it but still it is definitely not Art.

The essential point of the painting is not what the artist has done but to understand why and how he did it. The person who solves this puzzle and answers this question solves the Art in the piece and the Artist himself.

Behind any artwork there must be thinking, meditating and reasoning of the artist about all around him, persons, life, nature, feelings then he will decide for the composition, lines and colors which will help him to transfer his decision or solution to his canvas, in a perfect harmony through abstraction and imagination, this is called an artist posture, if you don’t feel it is a good work, you better pass to look to the next painting, because there must be one of these three, or the artist is not a good one, or the painting is not a good one or you are not ready to understand and feel the artistic language reflecting from this artwork.

If by any chance you cross him somewhere, don’t be surprised, he (the artist) may not be cute, gentle or charming. He can show a sarcastic, difficult and incomprehensible personality. He can be busy with talking to some of his friends, he can laugh, he can shout if he feels him happy, it doesn’t matter to him who else is present in the same room, President, Ambassador or General.

He is a man (woman) of high emotions, he thinks all others should respect him and show affection because he is different, talented, successful and admired.(high ego). He must live in the depths or heights. You can see one or five trees while walking in the forest, but he is already up, in the sky and look to the whole forest from the sky and feel himself like birds.

Everybody loves freedom but the meaning of being free is a matter of life or death for him, you can not impose him time limits or deadlines for the delivery of the painting, the true artist of today is not like the ones of 14, 15th centuries, he will not like to work on a commissioned piece of art, you can select and buy one of the Works in his archive which he worked in the past, but he made it for his own pleasure. Any moment in the past he wanted to start and work for a painting he will finish in some hours maybe some months.

The good artist doesn’t care for the money. He will, of course, be happy if his old paintings staying at home or in the gallery are sold at a good price. He will of course work for his yearly show in his art gallery although he would expect the gallery owner guarantees him the sales of some pieces in the contract and be paid in advance but these are an intimate artist and gallerist business relationship.

Let’s think you are a gallerist, you have a contract for a solo show with your artist which will take place a year after, it is possible that two months before the show he could still not finish the paintings, panic will push you to squeeze him for on-time delivery, after 10 months of doing nothing he can of course start and finish all paintings with 24 hours work per day, and he delivers you the paintings on time, then it is your problem to check the works one by one if each one is a masterpiece or only 2 of 20 are good pieces, c’est la vie, c’est l’art et l’artiste (this is life, this is art and artist) ! Very difficult to change the historical heritage of him. Just pray for he doesn’t lose himself and forget the thin line between painting for Money or “making art with full spiritual depth and for himself”.

You may be interested or insist of visiting his workshop, sure it should be for a purchase, you tell him what style of works of him you like more and you can show him your interests from his old exhibition catalogs, he can tell you which ones are still available when you buy and go.

But if you ask him to make a painting especially for you with the colors you will choose and the objects from your home that you want him to place somewhere on the canvas, he will think you don’t respect his art, and he will refuse you because the address you visited was wrong. You should go to a different artist and ask what you want from him, still a good artist, self-thought or studied in art academy then decided to paint for money and get rich. He can paint beautiful pieces for you, with your family members and your favorite objects included.

The subjects of his paintings are generally from his own life and his impressions of life, stories and what he sees around him.

The tools they use in paintings or sculptures to express his message or reflect any scene he was effected are very limited, lines, colors, tones, curves but mainly brush strokes special to him even color tones and brush traces named by his name.

The work of the artist consists of his own sense of the idea, pain, joy, cry, caressing, not someone else’s. A photograph or an article in a newspaper can be a muse and reason for a start of a painting, however from that point on it is no more an image or words of a journalist on the paper but a journey of the artist will work to change it in the artwork.

Artist is a thinker and philosopher. He has messages and want history records and keep them. Sometimes you can see a kiss or tears somewhere on the canvas, it isn’t there for nothing.

The unique poem and song “Don’t leave me” is one of the world’s most famous love poem in which there is no word “love”.

Painting requires distinctive psychology, lifestyle, and attitude. The goal of the artist is not to negotiate with others about his Works. He wants to catch and create a different perspective to show even to frighten. Artist relies on reality, but he doesn’t refuse the unreal which can give him strong impressions.

“They may think that my experiences are based on the surreal system. My animal and animalized human figures are forms that are not from nature, but they are concerned about combining these two bodies and taking out the animalesque behaviors kept somewhere inside the human body”. (artist statement Mr.M.G.).

I tried to explain who is an artist and I hope from now on you will keep in mind and look for it when you visit an art gallery or a museum.

N.Y.

[etirabys]

I just read this fascinating paper about clientelization for my class: Ronald Dore's Goodwill and the Spirit of Market Capitalism (1983), which talks about how some submarkets in Japan tend to consist of entities that deal with each other on a personal and recurring basis, far more than other developed economies (at the time). Dore talks about a dynamic he calls relational contracting: economic relationships that are treated as personal relationships (even between large entities), where 'someone else is cheaper' is not an acceptable reason to cut an ongoing relation but 'you're not dealing with me sincerely/with goodwill' is, where prices/orders tend to flexible and favorable towards the party who has a market disadvantage (e.g. only has a few major customers), where biannual gifts are an expected part of the business relationship.

The paper is really interesting and I quoted a lot of it below, but Dore is not a very good writer, and I've taken slightly more than minimal liberties in typing this out, for clarity and relevance. Below: some quotes about zaibatsu, national loyalty and astonishing resistance to imports when domestic producers are struggling, a hypothesis that more personal / trust-based business relations appear in affluent economies where consumers care more about quality than price. Caveat: paper is several decades old, and I don’t know enough about econ to judge whether any of this is obviously bullshit.

On zaibatsu:

Competition between Japanese firms is intense, but only in markets which are (a) consumer markets and (b) expanding. ... What does concern us here are markets in producers' goods, in intermediates. And for many such commodities markets can hardly be said to exist. Take steel, for instance, and one of its major uses for automobiles. The seven car firms buy their steel through trading companies, each from two or three of the major steel companies, in proportions which vary little from year to year. Prices, in this market, are set by the annual contract between the champions.

It is the concentration of such relationships which is the dominant characteristic of the famous large enterprise groups, known [to foreigners] as zaibatsu. These groups are quite distinct from the hierarchical groupings of affiliates and subsidiaries around some of the giant individual firms like Hitachi. The Mitsubishi group, for example, has no clear hierarchical structure. In its core membership of 28 firms, there is a certain amount of intra-group share ownership – on average about 26% of total equity widely dispersed throughout the group in 3~4% shares. There is a tiny amount of interlocking directorships – about 3% in all directors' seats. And most of the firms have the group bank as their lead bank, and bank of last pleading resort, but that bank provides on average less than 20% of all loan finance to group firms. The only thing which formally defines the identity of the group is the lunch on the last Friday of the month when the Presidents of every company in the group get together, often to listen to a lecture on, say, the oil market in the 1990s, to discuss matters like political party contributions, sometimes to hear news of, or give blessings to, some new joint venture...

The main raison d'etre of these groups is as networks of preferential, stable, obligated, bilateral trading relationships, networks of relational contracting. They are not conglomerates because they have no central board or holding company. They are not cartels because they are all in diverse lines of business. Each group has a bank and a trading company, a steel firm, an automobile firm, a major chemical firm, a shipbuilding and plant engineering firm, and so on... Hence, trade in producer goods within the group can be brisk.

A statistic that demonstrates how dominant exchange/trade across continuing relations are:

The starting point of this discussion of relational contracting was the search for reasons to explain why it made sense for the [Japanese] spinning firms to coordinate production neither through hierarchy (integration of economic entities into one firm), nor through the market (in the normal sense of continuously pursuing the best buy), but through 'relational contracting'. It was, I said, because such arrangements could be relied on in Japan more than in most other economies. There is one striking statistic that illustrates the extent to which it is relied on. The volume of wholesale transactions in Japan is no less than four times as great as the volume of retail transactions. For France, the multiple is 1.2; for Britain, West Germany and the USA the figure is between 1.6 and 1.9.

On loyalty and nationalism:

The Japanese economy is riddled with misallocation. Take the market for steel which I mentioned earlier. Brazil and Korea can now land some kinds of steel in Japan more cheaply than Japanese producers can supply it. But very little of it is sold. Japan can remain as pure as the driven snow in GATT terms – no trigger prices, minimal tariffs, no quotas – and still have a kind of natural immunity to steel imports. None of the major trading companies would touch Brazilian or Korean steel, especially now that things are going so badly for their customers, the Japanese steel companies. Small importers are willing to handle modest lots. But they will insist on their being landed at backwater warehouses away from where any domestic steel is going out, so that the incoming steel is not seen by a steel company employee. If that happens, the lorries taking the steel out might be followed to their destination. And the purchaser, if he turned out to be a disloyal customer, would be marked down for less than friendly treatment next time a boom brings a seller's market.

On how the kind of personal obligations that drive relational contracting can be beneficial to an economy:

– The Japanese system of relational contracting has merits which, I suggest, more than compensate for its price-distorting consequences. The compensatory advantages which go with the disadvantage of inflexible wage costs are reasonably well known. In a career employment system people accept that they have to be learning new jobs; it makes more sense for firms to invest in training... If a firm's market is declining, it is less likely to respond simply by cutting costs to keep profits up, more likely to search desperately for new product lines to keep busy the workers it is committed to employing anyway. Hence a strong growth dynamism.

– The relative security of such relations encourages investment in supplying firms. The spread of robots has been especially rapid in Japan's engineering subcontracting firms in recent years.

– The relationships of trust and mutual dependency make for a more rapid flow of information.

– A by-product of the system is a general emphasis on quality. What holds the relation together is the sense of mutual obligation. If one side fails to live up to his obligations, the other side is released from his. According to the relational contract ethic, it maybe difficult to ditch a supplier because, for circumstances beyond his control, he is not giving you the best buy. It is perfectly proper to ditch him if he is not giving the best buy and not even trying to match the best buy. A supplier who consistently fails to meet quality requirements is in danger of losing even an established relational contract.

A hypothesis that relational contracting arises in affluent economies, and that we ought to see less neoclassical profit-maximizing behavior in firms and individuals in well-off societies:

In the British textile trade, Marks and Spencers is well known for its relational contracting, squeezing suppliers a bit in times of trouble but not ditching them as long as they are maintaining quality standards. In the supermarket world, Sainsbury's have the same reputation, supposedly very different from that of Tesco's, which believes that frequent switching of supplies encourages others to keep the price down.

Try adding together the following thoughts.

– Marks and Spencers is well known for one thing besides relational contracting, namely that it bases its appeal on product quality more than on price.

– There is an apparent relation between a quality emphasis and relational contracting in Japan.

– Sainsburys is up-market compared to Tesco, which is for keen pricers.

– Japan's consumer markets are generally reckoned to be more middle-class, more quality sensitive, and less price-sensitive than Britains. Textile people have given me rough estimates that if one divides the clothing market crudely into two groups, one that is fastidious about quality and not too conscious of price, and one that looks at price rather than neatness of stitching, in Britain the proportions are 25:75, in Japan 60:40.

– Japan of the 1920s, and again in the postwar period, was much more of a cut-throat jungle than it is today. Not the ethics of relational contracting nor the emphasis on product quality nor the lifetime employment system, seem to have been characteristic of earlier periods of Japanese industrialization.

Add all these fragments together an an obvious hypothesis emerges that relational contracting is a phenomenon of affluence. It is when people become better off and the market-stall haggle gives way to [a world where] best buys are defined more by quality than by price, that relational contracting comes into its own.

It does so for two reasons: first because quality assurance has to depend more on trust. You always know whether the butcher is charging you sixpence or sevenpence. But if you don't know the difference between sirloin and rump, and you think your guests might, then you have to trust your butcher. Also, I suspect, when affluence reduces price pressures, any tendencies to prefer a relationship of friendly stability to the poker-game pleasures of adversarial bargaining – tendencies which might have been formerly suppressed by the anxious concerns not to lose a penny – are able to assert themselves.

Applying this hypothesis to explain the shift in employment contracts in the West:

(...) The fragmentary evidence about relational contracting in interfirm trading relations in Britain is complemented by evidence of its growth in the labour market. Not only Britain, but Europe in general – even the USA to a lesser extent – are no longer countries where employers hire and fire without compunction. In industries like steel, job tenures are valued at well over a year's wage. More generally, labour mobility has been falling for 15 years. More attention to career promotion within the firm and managerial doctrines about 'work involvement' in the enterprise exemplify the transformation of the employment contract into a more long-term, more diffuse commitment.