#muse: harry livingstone

[kirbydached]

while harry knew that he was going to get a demerit for skipping class, his anxiety had been acting up all week. his parents were scheduled to visit the school this weekend and he had been filled with nothing but dread. as much as he tried to play it off, his mask of composure was crumbling with each day that passed him by. a shaky breath fell from his lips as he nervously bounced his knee up and down, presently hiding out in his favourite spot on the sprawling campus. the place where he had his first kiss after the champion winning soccer match. he was eventually pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps, eyes widening once he saw an unexpected figure standing before him.

“marcel?” his brows pinched together as he stared up at his boyfriend.

the other was like an angel, appearing whenever he needed him the most. that had been the case since their relationship blossomed. harry was supposed to room alone but with a new foreign exchange student arriving from venezuela, his coach purposefully set them up to room together. before long, they became best friends. that friendship quickly transformed into something far deeper than that.

there was a look of concern etched across the other’s features as he took a step toward harry, “que pasa? link texted me and told me that you weren’t in class. you’re gonna get in trouble, amor.” he easily carded his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair in a loving manner.

harry stared up at the other for a few moments with a blank expression, cracking a few moments afterward. he easily allowed his arms to circle the other’s torso and pull him closer, his chin resting upon marcel’s chest. “i know… but i don’t care.” he wet his lips, shaking his head slightly. “with parents’ weekend coming up, i’ve been so fucking stressed. this is the only place i can get away from them and their close-minded bullshit. it feels like they’re like… going to ruin my safe haven just by being here for a couple of days.”

marcel let out a gentle sigh as he leaned down to press a kiss against harry’s forehead, “nothing could ruin this, baby. i’m going to make sure of that. it’s only a couple of days.”

harry couldn’t help but tighten his arms around the other as his gaze flickered away for a moment. “you can’t promise me something like that.” he wasn’t usually this pessimistic, but his parents’ always clouded his judgment.

“i mean — technically, yes. you’re right… nothing is guaranteed in life. but i’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that remains true.” a pause. “why don’t we take the afternoon off to just have a day to ourselves? i don’t care if i get detention for a week, i think we both need this.”

“that… sounds perfect. are you sure that i’m worth the trouble?”

“you’re worth everything, mi vida.”

[ timeskip ]

harry felt almost immediately better when they arrived at their dorm room and he was able to change out of his school uniform. he was in an absent-minded daze with the engraved locket that marcel had gifted him for their first anniversary in between his lips, something he did whenever he zoned out. marcel was comfortably seated in his lap in one of his hoodies that were far too big for the other, carefully painting his nails a new colour.

“you know that we’re going to have to move our beds apart, right? we won’t be able to sleep together while my parents are here.”

a look almost akin to pain flashed in marcel’s eyes as he looked up at the other through his lashes, “do we have to? how much time are they going to be spending in our room? you know that i don’t sleep well without you.” a small pout formed on his lips.

“i mean… they won’t be here for long, but we have to move them apart at least initially. i don’t want them asking questions.”

marcel blew on his nails after applying the last coat of quick dry, allowing himself to turn around and straddle the other. his legs wrapped around harry’s waist as they sat there. “it’s not fair. i want you all to myself…”

“i know, i know… that’s all i want too, baby.”

“i guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time after they leave. i’ll cling to you and never let go.” marcel chuckled softly as he allowed his lips to press to harry’s neck.

it was so easy for harry to lose himself in the other, even when his mind felt like it was at war with him.

[ timeskip ]

while marcel made it a habit to be punctual at all times, even to the point where he would arrive more than a half hour early to important events, he had accidentally allowed time to slip past him today. he barely had time to change into his kit before running toward the football pitch. he was breathless as he rounded the corner in the stadium, only to find himself skidding to a stop. a large man was standing there before him, a look of confusion flickering across his features. before he could apologize or step around the other, he was grabbed from behind. a pair of strong appendages pulled his arms behind his back, mouth opening to scream only for a cloth to be forced inside of it.

how could something like this be happening to him? in broad daylight nonetheless. his hands were promptly bound and another cloth was tied over his mouth and nose before he was thrown over the man’s shoulder, only to be carried to an expensive-looking suv with blacked-out windows. the worst part of it all? he saw his boyfriend standing a few good yards away from him on the field, completely oblivious to what was happening to him. despite it being fruitless, all he could do was cry out for harry through his gags as he squirmed in the man’s hold.

[ timeskip ]

marcel being late to practice was unlike him, even more so unlike him not to show up at all. during the first thirty minutes of practice, harry tried to remind himself that his boyfriend had been working on a group project beforehand. there was a good chance that time had unexpectedly gone over, especially if his partners showed up late. but when an hour passed, nerves settled in the pit of his stomach. something was wrong. he retreated into the locker room with the permission of his coach, fetching his phone from his cubby. he immediately checked his phone for any messages from the other, stomach churning as he found nothing.

[ text from harry: ] baby, where are you? everyone is worried and misses you. no answer. not even shown as read. marcel was one of the fastest texters that he knew — there had to be something wrong.

harry quickly gathered up his things before rushing back to his dorm room, eyes widening as he arrived to see their beds already moved apart. not only that but all of marcel’s belongings were gone. his clothes weren’t in the closet, his bed was bare, and there were no traces of the other. tears welled in his eyes as he fumbled for his phone.

[ text from harry: ] cel, where the fuck are you? this isn’t funny. what’s going on?

he could barely type the message out due to how much his hands were presently shaking.

tears began to trickle down his flushed cheeks as he sat down on the bare mattress, fingers tracing over the surface. they had just laid here last night, naked bodies flushed up against one another. words of love whispered in one another’s ears. but now all of that was gone in a flash.

a sudden knock on the door caused harry’s blurred vision to redirect itself, surprised to see the headmaster standing there.

“harrison, i thought that you should hear it from me that marcel had a family emergency and needed to go back to venezuela immediately. he will not be returning to school. i know it must be difficult for you to hear, considering you two were good friends.”

good friends, that caused him to let out a bitter laugh.

tears continued to roll down his cheeks, unable to hold them in anymore. why would he bother remaining composed when the only thing that kept him grounded was ripped away from him? nothing felt right. especially the bullshit explanation he was fed from the headmaster. if that were the case, marcel would have at least said goodbye. this had his parents written all over it.

from that day on, he sent marcel a text message saying he missed him and loved him every day.

none of them were ever opened.

he only stopped after a year, but his feelings remained the same.

[lifejustgotawkward]

365 Day Movie Challenge (2017) - #311: Lucky (2017) - dir. John Carroll Lynch

Legendary character actor Harry Dean Stanton capped his career with one last transcendent performance in Lucky, an introspective dramedy that honors its ninety-year-old protagonist with a showcase that is simple, unaffected and moving. Lucky (Stanton) is a World War II veteran who lives a bare-bones existence in a small Southwest town, a place where the vistas are not unlike those seen in an earlier masterpiece starring Stanton, Paris, Texas (1984). Over the course of a few days in Lucky’s life, we see him interact with friends and foes alike, including rakishly dressed senior citizen Howard (David Lynch), life insurance salesman Bobby Lawrence (Ron Livingston), married barflies Elaine and Paulie (Beth Grant and James Darren), diner owner Joe (Barry Shabaka Henley), Dr. Christian Kneedler (Ed Begley Jr., in a role reminding me a lot of when he played a physician on “Portlandia”), fellow WWII vet Fred (Tom Skerritt), waitress Loretta (Yvonne Huff) and bodega clerk Bibi (Bertila Damas).

The screenplay by Drago Sumonja and Logan Sparks was obviously tailor-made for Harry Dean Stanton, whose character often mentions his recollections of growing up in Kentucky, clearly autobiographical tidbits from Stanton’s own upbringing; Lucky’s atheism and his other philosophical musings were probably directly influenced by Stanton’s beliefs as well. The story moves slowly, perhaps too slowly for some viewers, but for anyone who knows and appreciates Stanton and the many wonderful characters that populate the cast, Lucky is a gem. The film’s beautiful performances - including a bravura monologue by David Lynch’s character about his abiding love for his pet tortoise, and a scene set in a diner in which Stanton and Tom Skerritt compares WWII stories, a poignant moment reminiscent of a similar scene in David Lynch’s The Straight Story - and the cinematography by Tim Suhrstedt create a compelling portrait of a one-of-a-kind man. Thanks for the memories, Harry Dean - there was no one else like you.

[insupdates]

Carl Blanchard Pfisterer Assoc. Eng. 1967: Part Time Antonozzi Assoc. Architects Darien Conn. Part Time: Design Parking Garage Richard F Heyer: Summer Of 1965: Meet Kyro Kyritsis and Peter Dapont WLAE: 93.7 FM: Paul di Savino (WPAT) 494 W. Main Street, Meriden, CT: 238 1010/201 334 5310: Offices in Meriden; Tower on Signal Mountain In Waterbury: License in Hartford WPAT, Patterson was originally an AM station Owned by Wright Broadcasting Company’s Howard Haman. The history of this frequency can be traced back to July 18, 1939, when Edwin H. Armstrong’s station W 2 XMN began regular broadcasting on a frequency of 42.8 MHz. Armstrong, the father of FM radio, had actually begun testing the station on April 10, 1938, and had demonstrated FM transmission as early as 1934. The station, which also became known as W 31 NY, moved to 43.1 MHz in 1941. W2XMN moved to the new FM band in 1946, first at 92.1 MHz, and then in 1948, to 93.1, where it became known as KE2XCC. It went off the air on March 6, 1954, after Armstrong’s death. WPAT began broadcasting on this frequency in March 1957 with an Easy Listening format until the stations sale to Spanish Broadcasting in January 1996. SRG (Schimmelpfennig, Ruiz and Gonzalez)1968-1969: Full Time in Puerto Rico Department of Education: Puerto Rico: Contract Work (Self) 1969 Kahn And Jacobs: Full Time 1969-1970: Ed The Alcoholic: Duncan Stewart: Ed Dickman (lived in queens and loved to detail buildings) was my job Captain after Ed Penn (was an n alcoholic) D’kirk (Not his name but it’s the best I can do) sponsored me into the AIA Lee Harris Pomeroy: 1970-1972: son of Selwyn Pomeroy for whom I hung drapes in Brooklyn. Lee Harris Pomeroy, FAIA Is president of the firm he founded in 1964 in New York City? He has guided the firm's growth, building a reputation for design excellence over the past 36 years. Lee’s work has led to numerous architectural awards and to a number of significant commissions with major commercial clients, including Swiss Bank Corporation, Saks Fifth Avenue, HBO, and The Trump Organization. He also taught at City College under the dean Bernard Spring. The emphasis then was ON the social aspects of Architecture. Lee introduced me to one of his students: Phil Winters and we became very good friends. Lee resided in a town house he designed and renovated with his wife and children Hi wife played the viola. In the public sector, he has designed libraries, educational and institutional buildings and large transportation projects that have been recognized for high design standards and improving quality of life in their communities Offices first on East 66 Street; then Upper floor of former maids quarters of the Plaza Hotel. One of the projects that came to the office was the design of the Congress Nursing home in Brooklyn Heights. It was special because I got to know its owner Eugene Hollander and really think about the last place a person would life before they died. What they would see and know. I concluded that it was there widow and the view of the garden. So I recommend that he spend his money on landscaping the gardens and making removing and replacing all the buildings windows. This was 1971 and I was 34 years old. Another, and more famous client was the then owner of the Dallas cowboy, and rich Texan , Clint William Murchison for whom I designed the “Dallas Cowboy Restaurant on East 44 street between Vanderbilt and Park at the base of a , then brand new office building. Clinton Williams Murchison, Sr (1895-1969) was an oil and gas developer financier, son of John Weldon and Clara (Williams) Murchison, and born in Tyler on April 11, 1895. He moved into exploration and development, and despite the fluctuations in the price of oil, he sold his holdings in 1925 for $5 million and moved his base of operations to San Antonio. He speculated in South Texas and in 1928 reestablished himself in Dallas Another client of Lee’s was, now convicted criminal, spending time in jail, David Paul. David hated me and expressed his feelings openly. The below story explains the situation. The below article was written in 2000 and by now David should be out of prison. “Former CenTrust Bank chief asks to be released from prison with 11 years left” By Catherine Wilson of the Associated Press “MIAMI -- The federal government spent a lot of time and money putting former highflying banker David Paul behind bars and wants to keep him there until he completes one of the longest sentences imposed on 1980s savings-and-loan felons. The former CenTrust Bank chief has asked his trial judge to let him go based on a U.S. Supreme Court decision, but a prosecutor responded Tuesday that the request to free Paul from the rest of his 11-year sentence should be rejected. The goodwill issue was raised and rejected on Paul's original unsuccessful appeal, and the subsequent Supreme Court decision doesn't apply in his criminal case, Assistant U.S. Attorney Harriet Galvin said in trying to head off Paul's early release. He is due to serve another three years. CenTrust, once the largest S&L in the Southeast, was seized in 1990 after its goodwill write-off to produce the fourth-largest banking collapse in U.S. history. Paul, known for his expensive keepings and lifestyle, was convicted in 1994 of running a sham bond deal and a junk-bond fraud and using millions in CenTrust money to dress up his palatial waterfront estate. Paul claims that the trial judge's calculation of a $61 million loss from his crimes would have been lower if goodwill were considered. Dollar losses drive prison terms in federal fraud cases. "Looking fit and trim," Paul was recently transferred to Miami from a South Carolina prison, Weintraub said. Heart problems that required surgery during his imprisonment are still being treated, but Weintraub said, "His health is good now." Paul collected $66,000 a week in salary and dividends while entertaining politicians and celebrities such as Elizabeth Taylor aboard his yacht. He once flew in a team of European chefs led by Paul Bocuse for a gourmet banquet at his home. He surrounded himself with Old Masters artwork and other trappings of ostentatious wealth.” It was Paul’s intensive dislike for me based ON his jealous relationship he wished for him and Lee that eventually caused Lee to ask me to resign. Another of our projects was the Neighborhood Plan in Harlem for the Manhattan borough President’s office for Livingston Bryant and Mildred Brown. Lee Harris Pomeroy (FAIA) is president of the firm he founded in 1964 in New York City. He personifies the New York liberal. LME: Full Time: 1970-1973 Pratt Institute: 1969-1973: Part-time One of the faculty members John Lobell and his wife M’me epitomized the era by being known for there being naked at parties and love-ins. The times were filled with a wave of rebellion, sit-ins, love–ins, happenings, and student strikes and heavy duty dope. Many of my students came to class drugged and confused. Young girls offered them selves. Several of my colleagues, especially one, Dean, we stood in awe of all the assemblies of students not knowing what to do. We were not prepared for this. Several of my colleagues did very well in this environment especially Gamal ElZogby. I my self opted the whole thing by creating LME, doing Earth Day and teaching in the New Open School. It would have lasted longer but as University of Houston, Pratt could not invite me to teach Full Time. Many years ago Sydney Shalov coerced me into taking over the teaching of two classes to UN Master exchange students on the premise that the classes assigned teacher, Victor Olgay had died and I needed to fill in. I did, and it was a disaster. He had selected me because I had spent 15 months designing buildings as an architect in Puerto Rico. I muddled my way through and did try to learn the material. The technical class was very difficult but the other went quite nicely. The two classes were Climatology and Bioclimatic Design created by Victor Olgay. The student’s rebelled but several wonderful students helped me save the day and things finally went smoothly. One of the students was Ahmed Zahid who I later discovered in KFU in KSA. Of course we were good friends and as he had helped me I tried to help him when both our contracts were terminated. I recently found out that Olgay was alive and well teaching and developing his work at Princeton University. I tried with out success to contact him. University Of Ohio: 1972 Part Time One Semester Only Peoples Protective: 1973: Full Time (36) In Jackson Tennessee, it wasn’t South verses North as was politely mused, but urban verses Rural. Jacksonians exuded rural values and rural mind. They preferred the urban farm and the quiet farmer’s village. Urban density, culture, commerce was undesirable and offensive. People’s Protective’s projects were rural recreational second homes being marketed to suburban non-urban people from the Midwest and North. The building were made to look like rural Tennessee barns, shacks, and building types. They aimed that Northern people should perceive Tennessee rural. My urban mindset systematized and made it possible. It was another example of the power of commerce and its consequent urbanity. Bruce Gallery: 4646 Poplar Avenue; Memphis, Tennessee 38117; exhibited and sold my watercolors July 23, 1974. The owner invited me to exhibit after seeing my work at an art fair. Jonathan’s Gallery: August 4, 1974:Christina’s Plexiglas sculptures and Barie’s Pen and Ink and watercolor paintings and drawings exhibited and sold in this gallery in Jackson, Tennessee. concrete, newhaven, culturalcenter, precast, portfoilio, barie, longspan, fezbarringtenarchitect, conjcedrhall, continentalseating June 23, 2009 at 06:04PM B.P. Music Hall by chrisbarie http://flic.kr/p/6z2eiq