#she is scrapbooking every single milestone she can think of

[chamomile-soup]

"Each child needs at least one adult who is irrationally crazy about him or her." (YES i am using an actual quote from an actual psychologist for my fucking babyroth post)

anyway au where lucrecia raises sephiroth

[digitised-celluloid]

what is online space? what is content? i update this blog that now somehow has 900+ posts semi-regularly but with nowhere near the fervour of the salad days of my tumblr posting. i consider this to be a ‘new’ blog yet it’s been here since i think 2014. it has thousands of followers yet that’s still a drop in the ocean compared to what other blogs of mine had. it gets a lot of notes yet i don’t know a single follower, have not a single mutual. i consider this a ‘space’ yet as spaces go the theme is 7 years out of date and tumblr has long broken the few pages i made. what sort of ‘space’ is that. yet if you go elsewhere the online platform is almost irredeemable and whatever enjoyment can be had is, imo, fleeting. i’ve moved to twitter got some bluecheck follows and yet they are less ‘prestigious’ or ‘interesting’ or whatever than sending asks to big users here and ending up respectful mutuals, and jesus christ if you haven’t been able to tell by now i can’t be doing with the tweet limit. i’ve modded a popular ‘in group’ subreddit and been popular on there myself yet there’s something so deeply impersonal and fleeting about that ‘space’ and so grubby about its dramas. as someone who had a main blog and then several sideblogs, i have ended up with my ‘main’ being one of those sides, with an actual main left comatose, on life support, so that this side doesn’t ‘die’. the content posted here is stills of an artist’s work. there is some sentiment that there’s an art to this art. the art of curation. curating for others. 100gb+ of stills on my hard drive, like a scrapbook - curation. no, more like a filing cabinet, more impersonal, and no romance. despite 95% of my mutuals leaving the site, and me myself not posting outside of this stills side, i check my dash every morning like i would in 2013. i can’t put my finger on why that habit hasn’t been broken. the content is gone, the space is empty. so again what is online space? what is content? why am i still here in an online space that as social media is now empty? why do i continue to screencap and post stills as if there’s any meaning to this curation? why am i writing this, my first text post in four years? why have i romanticised the process to the degree where i have milestoned stopping posting? why do i remember the theme, font choice, and palette of my ‘personal’ sideblog that i privated every post on and left in 2017? why does it feel submerged rather than absent? why am i seeing some mutuals slip back in and start posting again, looking for their old mutuals - some gone for good, some returned themselves, some never left and post with the same frequency they did in 2012. why am i both of those people, having ‘slipped back’ mentally to make this post as well as having never left in my own way. if i check the dash every morning and post here, on what level did i consider myself to have left? emotionally? i emotionally left tumblr? i met the ‘great love’ of my 20s on tumblr and as the relationship fell apart i ‘emotionally left’ the site - how hilarious, like this is a physical space someone was met in, like i vowed to never return to the cafe where our eyes by some miracle met. i remember when i broke up with my ‘first love’ as she had cheated on me, crying walking past the burger king where she’d first agreed to stay over at mine. so i have tumblr and paddington burger king as my spaces emitting a deep absence. i wonder whether if i went to the burger king, i’d do so having lost something, with a formality unfitting for fast food. madness have lyrics that go ‘although I've never been there I wish I was there stillI - stare out of this window - see the world go past - i've read and looked at everything - i know it off by heart‘ and i think that epitomises online spaces, specifically tumblr. there’s nothing new you could show me here, i’ve seen it all and seen nothing. i’ve been here so intensely yet not been here at all. yet when i’ve not been here at all i’ve also been here intensely. even though i’ve never been here i wish i was here still. there’s something so liberating about knowing 2,348 followers will see this yet none of them will read it, it’s like being naked at a nudist beach, you’ve stripped yourself bare yet nobody will pay any notice at all, because everyone is stripping themselves practically to the bone on this site. nudity is either deeply erotic or totally sexless and maybe that’s the same with content, something is either deeply contentful or totally contentless - and it’s often the same object through different eyes or in different spaces. like the warehouse that becomes the art gallery. this space, tumblr, is both gutted warehouse and social space, at the same time. what is posted is both dull plain almost vapid objects, and yet something enjoyable, sometimes even profound. i can only come to the conclusion that what divides tumblr in that sense from reddit twitter facebook and many more is that this is a deeply human space. perhaps it’s at least the pretense of all of this being blogging. or because it’s a deeply unprofitable busted attempt at social media that not only lingers but thrives even as others - me - say it is ‘gone’. this is the one space where there feels like there’s someone behind the account, even more so than first name last name facebooks and twitters. this is a totally worthless wall of text but it’s enjoable to stream of consciousness over 20 minutes isn’t it, in this space... is this content? i guess it is because you’ll see it, and not because you’ll not read it.

[ebhenah]

Future Klance Family Tidbits

Lance is in charge of the baby books. 

Which surprised... pretty much no one. Everyone knows that Lance is the sentimental one. The family-oriented one. 

The Baby Books are intense... bordering on works of art. Lance diligently recorded every milestone in careful handwriting with archival quality pens. He saved locks of hair and hospital bracelets. He oh-so-carefully made hand and foot prints with an ink pad he’d had to special order. Until their third birthdays, he took monthly chalkboard pictures of each child with their ‘important stats’ clearly written in color-coded chalk: purple for Thace, red for Talia, bright blue for Rai, yellow for Kashi. 

When Lucas was first fostered with them, Lance broke out the old baby-stats chalkboard and let Lucas choose his own chalk color (from the ones that had not yet been claimed). Lucas chose orange and Lance sat with him and together they filled in all the stats: age, height, weight, things he loves, things he hates, new skills. He got his own baby book, and Lance didn’t miss a beat, recording every milestone, just like he had done four times before. The milestones look different, “today Lucas called himself a Kogane”, and “Lucas spontaneously hugged Keith. Keith cried.”, “first screaming match with Talia”, “first ‘eww gross’ eyeroll prompted by parental affection”, “first Kosmo trip! Destination: to the kitchen Goal: to steal cookies. Status: busted.” instead of first words and first steps, but they were no less important. When Nyra arrived, a baby book was included in the first supply run, and that sixth installment was every bit as detailed as the very first one. (She chose “geen” chalk.) Lance was a seasoned pro with baby books, and as a result, the children have well documented lives.

No one expected anything less than ‘extra’ from Lance as a father.

Keith though, he does things a little differently.

Tucked in the back of each baby book was a manila envelope that contains... letters. Well... more like... notes. They weren’t long, formal things by any stretch of the imagination, and they didn’t follow a set schedule like Lance’s monthly updates. The very first one, the one that started the whole thing, predates any of the usual parenting milestones... and Keith carefully copied it out and made sure each kid had their own. It wasn’t poetic or long-winded. It was blunt and matter of fact in a way that was typical of Keith. “To my kid. 

I don’t know who you will be yet. I don’t know if I will be any good at this whole parenting thing, but I promise I will try not to screw up too much. I think I’m starting out on the right foot, though... because I picked the best father any kid could have for you. I bought the ring this afternoon. It’s perfect. Lance doesn’t know yet, but today I started building our family. I can’t wait to meet you. You are going to be our best adventure!

Love, Dad”

That is the only note that was the same for each kid. All the others are unique- a quick sketch with the words “because you made me draw you ducks for three hours today” scrawled under it; a game of hangman with the winning score jotted under Thace’s name; a post-it note with the date and “Kosmo farted, you laughed so hard you fell down. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I didn’t know that I could love so many people so much and in so many different ways”; a receipt from a dry cleaner annotated with “you puked all over Shiro’s dress uniform. Serves him right for tossing you in the air so soon after your bottle. His face was hilarious. Best ten credits I’ve ever spent!”; memories and messages that caught his attention and made him want to record them. Snippets of a childhood from the perspective of a parent.

Every so often, Lance takes them out and reads them, then carefully tucks them back into the envelope for safekeeping. Keith has another record, though, one Lance doesn’t know about. Safe and sound in the storage hold of the Black Lion, Keith has something of a scrapbook. It is filled with little tokens and mementos and reminders of the highlights of his life. The very last page has a list of dates, each one followed by a quote. “So this is what perfection looks like.”

“I’d be screaming too if someone shaved part of my head!”

“I know, I know... today has just been the worst! But you know what? It’ll get better. We promise.”

“You are going to be pure chaos, just like him. I can already tell... and you know what I say to that? Bring it on, buddy!”

“Alright! Important question: pop tarts? Or toaster strudel? Choose carefully, now, there IS a wrong answer!”

“Well, hello there! You are just beautiful, did you know that?”

While Lance insisted on photographs to mark the occasion whenever their family grew, Keith couldn’t resist the desire to record the first thing his husband said to their children. Because somehow, Lance always found a new way to say ‘welcome to our family. I love you already.’ and every. single. time. it was perfect. 

[actressemiliafox]

Emilia Fox on Hats, Horse Riding & the British Social Season This June sees Emilia Fox star as the lead ambassador for the Investec Epsom Derby, Britain’s prestigious flat racing event. The Silent Witness actress talks hats, horse riding & the British Social Season There is no mistaking Emilia Fox as she bundles in to the Milestone Hotel in Kensington. The Silent Witness actress is dressed in skinny black jeans and a pink faux-fur coat by Miranda Dunn, with ‘Fox’ emblazoned on the back (her daughter Rose has a matching one). She has a mobile phone glued to her ear and mouths an apologetic ‘sorry’ as we greet each other. Her blonde hair is tied back and she is burdened with several shopping bags. What are your favourite events on the British social calendar? I don’t have time for the social season. Since 2004 I’ve filmed Silent Witness for seven months of every year. Production runs from April to November, so all the lovely festivals take place when I’m learning scripts. A treat might be going to the theatre. I’ve just been to see my brother Freddie in Tom Stoppard’s Travesties at the Haymarket. I hope to see my father in his one-man show about Sir John Betjeman, too. It’s called Sand in the Sandwiches and goes on tour in May and June. [My daughter] Rose and I will have a holiday in August, but I’ve no idea where. Are you looking forward to your next lead role as an ambassador for the Investec Derby Festival at Epsom? I’ve never been to the Derby before, so it’s very exciting for me. Any excuse to get dressed up is an absolute treat when you’re a working mum. I also love horses – I rode as a child and Rose is now having lessons. She’s already much better than me. What are you planning to wear? Well, that’s the lovely thing about the Derby – everybody makes an effort. It’s quintessentially British and I’ve put a lot of thought into what I’ll wear. I’ve chosen a dress by my favourite designer, Luisa Beccaria. I’ve known her family for years and we are good friends. Luisa draws her inspiration from nature, which is perfect for a summery look. And the hat? I wear a lot of hats, but there’s nothing in my collection that would work for Epsom. The theme this year is ‘butterflies and flowers’, so I’m working on something with Rachel Trevor-Morgan. What are your beauty secrets? I do try to take care of my skin. I spend an hour a day in makeup for Silent Witness, so you learn a thing or two from some brilliant makeup artists. I also colour my hair – Errol Douglas in Knightsbridge has been looking after me for 20 years. When filming is done, how do you relax? My six-year-old daughter takes up the rest of my day. I’m lucky because the Silent Witness studio is only five minutes from where I live in west London. If I’m not in a scene and Rose is on school holidays, I can nip home to be with her. We live in a cottage-style house with a garden. That’s where I like to relax – it’s my oasis of calm. Being a single mum, there isn’t much time for anything else, although we do like to swim, or walk our two dachshunds, Dolly and Clive, in the park. From whom have you inherited the gardening gene? I grew up living in both London and Dorset, where my parents have a house close to the Jurassic Coast. My childhood was all about playing on the beach, making scrapbooks and learning about nature. The house down there is idyllic and unspoilt. Both my parents love to be in the garden. Mum is brilliant with pot plants and dad is an expert pruner. They have helped fill my garden with lavender, tulips and lots of roses. Your character was buried alive in a wooden coffin in Mexico and almost died in the last episode of Silent Witness. How difficult was that to film? We spent a week on that shoot and it was really tough. The film crew was always there, but because I had no other actors to interact with, I felt very lonely. You start to think about all sorts of things and the days dragged on. All I had for company was a scorpion. Silent Witness characters have been killed off in the past – will you survive season 21? We discussed this a lot after the Mexico drama. There will be some fall-out from what happened but I don’t get to see the scripts, so I have no idea what the future holds. http://www.luxurylondon.co.uk/article/emilia-fox-on-hats-horse-riding-the-british-social-season