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#sometimes canon framing and media format and genre
foundfamilywhump · 3 months
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the question, you see, is not ‘is it too ooc for this character to cry’ but rather ‘what circumstances would push this character to cry’
this is the whump wisdom, go forth and make that character cry
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aion-rsa · 2 years
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Bad Buddy and the Subversive Sentimentality of BL Storytelling
https://ift.tt/eA8V8J
This Bad Buddy article contains some spoilers, though not for the series finale.
Bad Buddy wrapped up its 12-episode tale today. The Thai rom-com about two boys who fall in love in spite of the rivalries between their parents and friend groups, became one of the sweetest stories of late 2021, a beacon of tenderness in a harsh world and a genre-defining example of the increasingly popular Boys’ Love (BL) format. With the dramedy airing its final episode via WeTV and Thai channel GMMTV’s official YouTube channel, let’s take a moment to reflect back on why this show is so damn good and why you might want to consider embracing the rich, transnational world of BL drama.
Bad Buddy begins as fun-loving Pat (Pawat “Ohm” Chittsawangdee) and perfectionist Pran (Korapat “Nanon” Kirdpan) enter their first year of university in Bangkok. Pat is an engineering major, while Pran studies architecture—two faculties traditionally at odds with one another. Unbeknownst to their feuding friend-groups, the animosity between Pran and Pat goes back much further than college and the engineering-architecture rivalry. The two grew up next to one another in an affluent Bangkok suburb, and their families are enemies. Because of this, the two have been pitted against one another since birth, made into competing symbols of their parents’ successes and failures. It’s a lot of pressure, only intensified by the fact that these two can’t keep their hands off one another. In general, the show is an utter delight, with a flexibility in tone that sees the the story expertly shifting from gloriously goofy to devastatingly romantic to just plain devastating in the blink of a frame. (And don’t even get me started on how this show manages to make flirting over product placements like Canon printers and peppermint-scented nasal inhalers so goddamn charming.)
Bad Buddy is situated within the context of Thai BL dramas (known as “Y” in Thailand). BL, short for “Boys’ Love,” is a term that originated in Japanese culture to describe stories (e.g. manga, web novels, TV shows) that feature homoerotic relationships between men. While BL dramas fall under the umbrella of queer media, they are a sub-genre traditionally created by and for (straight) women, though this has never been the whole truth and both the perception and reality of who consumes BL is continuing to evolve as the genre grows. Today, the term “BL” is used in many different cultural contexts, though is most commonly applied to narratives coming from East Asian and Southeast Asian countries, and it is becoming increasingly mainstream and popular. The Thai entertainment industry in particular has embraced the genre. (Even though same-sex marriage is still banned in Thailand.) As the genre becomes more popular in more financially lucrative mediums in which men disproportionately have more opportunities, it is common for men to serve as creators of BL on-screen stories. (Bad Buddy is directed by queer filmmaker Backaof “Aof” Noppharnach, one of the best storytellers working in the Thai BL industry right now.)
While BL fandom is diverse, it does historically skew female, presumably because women are looking for narratives that eliminate the explicit depictions of the power imbalances that come with a constructed gender binary and that we are awash in in our daily lives. Sometimes, this means looking to escape into a world in which women—though not femininity—are removed from the equation. In Boys Love Manga and Beyond: History, Culture, and Community in Japan, academic Rio Otomo writes: “To say the reader disappears in BL may sound negative. But forgetting one’s gendered body, or floating away from a fixed identity, is essentially a liberating concept and, for that reason, it is the core idea of queer theory.”
Why are so many women interested in stories that center men and their romantic relationships? In short, because it is exhausting being a woman in a world that devalues, objectifies, and polices women. When it comes to fantasy, it’s often more pleasurable for us to imagine a relationship in which women do not exist than it is to imagine a relationship that contains both men and women, given the ways that gender has been constructed in our cultures. (“Of course,” notes Otomo, “this reader may not necessarily be a woman but instead a man who has a desire to transform existing social relations, and, hence, is searching for a new utopian vision.”)
Tying this quote and the narratives of other Philippine fans of #ThaiBL to one of my favourite pieces of queer theory 😀 pic.twitter.com/F1t8MLUr1z
— Dr Thomas Baudinette (@tbaudinette) January 21, 2022
Even within the context of BL, Bad Buddy is special. Like any genre, BL has its fair of problematic tropes; Bad Buddy subverts so many of them, making for a stronger, more inclusive story. There is no homophobia in the world of Bad Buddy, with many supporting characters going out of their way to express encouragement of same-sex relationships—even before it becomes known that any of the characters are queer themselves. The challenges the central couple faces in being together never have anything to do with their queerness. In another example of Bad Buddy subverting toxic tropes, both Pran and Pat make it clear that they are not “only gay for each other,” a common trope that can read as bi-erasure or a broader dismissal of queerness. In Bad Buddy, it is made clear that the characters have distinct, queer identities outside of their attraction to and love for one another.
Bad Buddy actively challenges the casual misogyny that seeps into many mainstream stories. At one point in the series, Pran calls Pat out when he makes a gendered joke about their roles as “husband” and “wife.” “Does calling me a wife make you feel superior?” asks Pran, pushing back against Pat’s casual misogyny. “You don’t need to call us husband and wife.”
More broadly, Bad Buddy‘s female characters are depicted as full humans, with complex interior lives of their own. While the series features Ink (Pansa Vosbein), a girl from Pat and Pran’s past is presented as a potential threat to their coming together, in a subversion of the “crazy ex-girlfriend” trope, it’s eventually made clear that the true obstacle is actually the two boys’ unexpressed jealousy and unwillingness to communicate with one another. Ink is not only uninterested in either of them romantically, but is supportive of their relationship. Past that, she has identities and interests outside of her relationships to the male leads. The same can be said for Pran’s mother, Dissaya (Paradee Vongsawad). Though Pat and Pran’s parents are sometimes the antagonists of the story, they are never treated as villains. When the unexpectedly complex secret behind the parents’ long-running feud is revealed, and Pran confronts Dissaya about it, the narrative makes space for Dissaya’s pain and perspective, even while she stands in the way of the central couple. Another three-dimensional female character comes in the form of Pat’s younger sister, Pa (Pattranite Limpatiyakorn), who represents the other major relationship in Pat’s life. When one of Pran’s friends expresses a romantic interest in Pa, Pat doesn’t fall into the common misogynistic “don’t touch my sister” response, but rather says it is up to his sister, encouraging the boy to go for it. Generally, Pa and Pat’s sibling relationship is one of the healthiest in the show, and a constant source of support and solace for both characters. Without giving too much away, the show also features a “girls love” subplot, less common in BL dramas, that is treated with as much tenderness and romance as the central couple’s story.
If it wasn’t apparent from the examples above, Bad Buddy is artfully constructed. (One climactic scene is soundtracked completely by Thai xylophone.) There are the performances of series stars Nanon and Ohm, who not only have killer chemistry but demonstrate an impressive range in their respective portrayals of two men coming of age while trying to balance their hearts, ambitions, and family pressures. The performances suggest a complete commitment to the material on the parts of the young actors, but also speak to the talent of director Aof, and the rest of his team. Good performances tend to come from the creation of a safe space for actors to be vulnerable and explore, and P’Aof seems to have done that with Bad Buddy.
Bad Buddy scores on visual storytelling too. While the show doesn’t have the budget of the average American TV show, P’Aof makes exquisite use of what he does have—and, by that, I mean: when a scene is emotionally significant, he directs the shit out of it. When Pat and Pran share their first kiss, it is on a Bangkok rooftop. The scene is one of the series’ longer ones, running for six, emotionally heightened minutes as the two finally address the sexual and romantic tension that has been building for five episodes. P’Aof doesn’t rush it (Pat literally sighs 4.5 times before he even approaches the other boy), knowing how important the moment is. As Pat confesses his feelings to Pran, the camera gets tighter on the two performers, and the lights of the city blur into something abstract and distant. For a moment, Pran and Pat are the only two people in the world, leading to a desperate (on Pran’s part) and euphoric (on Pat’s part) kiss that has both characters in tears. It’s one of the most romantic and devastating scenes of TV I have seen in a long time, and it is only the midway point of this story. (Also, Pat is wearing a muscle tee that reads “Baseball Mom,” one of many choice T-shirts for the character throughout the series run, which is just icing on the cake.)
Thai BL, like any other genre, comes with its strengths and weaknesses. As with other genres, it’s not for everyone, nor does it have to be. But, in a global media landscape still ruled by the redundant machismo of Hollywood storytelling, it’s a breath of warm, fresh air—a wonderfully queer story that also happens to be one of the TV’s most romantic shows.
There’s nothing inherently lesser about sentimental storytelling; there’s as much potential for narrative complexity and power in the tears and laughter of melodrama as there is in the violent shadows of grimdark drama. If you’re open to that potential, Bad Buddy‘s tender, joyful, often hilarious tale of two boys coming-of-age in love could be for you.
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konstantya · 3 years
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Frankenstein’s Meme - Day 1
(Stolen from trobadora on DW.  No promises that I’ll actually be doing one a day I will almost certainly not be, but it caught my attention all the same, so I figured why not give it a go?  :D  Full list of questions at the bottom, under the cut.)
1.  What’s changed about your fandom life in the last 365 days?
For sure, I’ve gotten really into classic noir (and to a slightly lesser extent, classic film in general).  I was previously aware of noir (and its successor, neo-noir), but only really in the aesthetic sense--dramatic lighting, Expressionistic framing, etc.  But watching This Gun For Hire (mostly because I’d read it was a heavy influence on 1967′s Le Samourai, which was in turn a heavy influence on 2011′s Drive--two neo-noirs I heartily enjoyed) sent me down the rabbit hole of classic noir, and there, in the summer of 2020, something just clicked.
I think it’s probably because 2020 was a very dark year, and I in turn needed the media I consumed to reflect that darkness*.  But at the same time, I also needed some sort of escapism, and in hindsight classic noir just kind of hit that sweet spot.  It’s a very dark genre, born out of very dark things (WWII, post-war trauma/disillusionment, McCarthy-era paranoia, and--to go back a bit--arguably even the Great Depression, considering that a lot of films noir were based on crime novels written in the 1930s).  But it also had that distance, being that it’s a genre from 70-80 years ago.  A lot of the themes and stories of classic noir still resonate today (sometimes depressingly so), but it somehow helped, knowing the films literally couldn’t be reacting to or inadvertently commenting on modern events and society, owing to their age.
*Though at the same time, it is pretty funny that the fics I wrote in 2020 (most of them inspired by TGFH) were very...idk, “fluffy” isn’t the right word, but “soft,” I guess.  The romances I wrote were very soft, so clearly I needed some sort of lightness/comfort, but it’s probably not a coincidence that the characters themselves were really quite traumatized and dealing with a lot of personal shit.  (I still remember that one of my first thoughts upon first finishing TGFH was, “Jesus, they try to force a semi-happy ending, but Ellen is going to be fucked up after all of that,” pfft.  MAYBE I GOT SO ATTACHED TO HER BECAUSE I WAS SOMEHOW PROJECTING???)
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1. What’s changed about your fandom life in the last 365 days? 2. Your newest fandom. 3. You’ve got your OTP, you have to throw a third into the mix (from the same fandom), creating an OT3. Who is the OTP, and in your opinion, why would they make a perfect third for them? 4. What are the origins of your penname/username? 5. What’s a fandom that you wish had a bigger following? 6. What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom? What fandom was it? Not necessarily your oldest fandom, but a fandom that you started and still continue to read/write/create content for in some way. 7. What would make you leave a fandom, or prevent you from getting into it in the first place? 8. Squicks - What are some things that squick you in fandom - not necessarily “icky”, though it can be. From anything involving blood, to bad grammar. 9. What’s the hardest thing about writing, and why are titles the Worst™? 10. Do you have a fandom that you follow - either regularly or casually - with little to no knowledge of canon? 11. Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed. 12. A ship you have never liked and probably never will. 13. Do you prefer art, fic, or vids? Why? Bonus: If someone was to give you a fandom gift, what format would it be? 14. A pairing – platonic, romantic or sexual – that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind. 15. What was the first thing you ever contributed to a fandom? 16. Do you remember your first OTP? Who was in it? 17. What is your favourite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)? 18. How many fandoms have you written for? How many have you been in, and how many are you still in? 19. Has social media caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why? 20. What fandom broke your heart? 21. Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you dislike or even loathe.) 22. Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend. 23. Your rarest fandoms. 24. A fandom you’ve abandoned and why. 25. Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 26. A trope which you are virtually certain to love in any fandom. 27. A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom. 28. How did you first get into fanfic, and what was the first fandom you wrote fic for? 29. Have you ever tried to write for a fandom or ship, and found you couldn’t? 30. Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).
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divineknowing2021 · 3 years
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viewing guide
At its core, divine knowing is an exhibition about knowledge, power, and agency. It’s become a more common understanding that governments, institutions, and algorithms will manipulate the public with what information they frame as fact, fiction, or worthy of attention. Though I am early in researching this topic, I've only come across a minimal amount of mainstream discourse on how the initial threat limiting our scope of knowledge is a refusal to listen to ourselves.
In a world faced with so many threats - humans being violent toward each other, toward animals, toward the earth - it can be a bit unsettling to release the reins and allow ourselves to bear witness for a moment, as we slowly develop a deeper awareness of surrounding phenomena and happenings.  
divine knowing includes works by formally trained and self-taught artists. A majority of the artists are bisexual, non-binary, or transgender. Regardless of degree-status, gender, or sexuality, these artists have tapped into the autonomous well of self-knowing. Their artworks speak to tactics for opening up to a more perceptive mode of being. They unravel dependencies on external sources for knowledge and what we might recognize, connect with, or achieve once we do.
The installation Femme Digitale by Sierra Bagish originates from a series she began in 2017 by converting photographs of women that were taken and distributed online without the subject’s consent into paintings. Her practice at the time was concerned with female abjection. Sourcing images found via simple keywords and phrases (e.g., passed out, passed out drunk) she swathes a mass-circulated canon of internet detritus that articulates and produces aggression towards women. With her paintings, she circumvents the images’ original framing mechanisms and subverts these proliferated images through a sincere and personal lens.
These paintings divulge the blurred space between idolatry and denigration these online photos occupy, asking whose desires these images fulfill and what their propagation reveals about the culture producing them.  While Bagish's work contends with political motivations, she also remains keenly observant of form and the varying utilities of different media.
“I use the expressive potential of paint as a vehicle to intervene and challenge ideas about photography as a harbinger of the real and everyday.”
Chariot Birthday Wish is an artist and angel living in Brooklyn. They have seen The Matrix 28 times in 2 years and love horses. The tarot series included in divine knowing is their most intuitive project, something they revisit when unsure of what to work on next. The Major Arcana are composed of digital collages made from sourced images, the Minor Arcana are represented by short, poetic, interpretative texts about the cards. The series is played on shuffle, creating a unique reading for each viewer. This is a work in progress that will eventually finalize as a completed deck of digital collages available for purchase.
Chariot's work emerges from a constant consideration of apocalypse and connection. They reference technology in tandem with nature and a desire for unity. Underneath their work's surface conversation on beauty, care, and relationship exists an agenda to subtly evoke a conspiratorial anti-state mindset. Through a collective imagining of how good things could be and how good we want them to be, we might be able to reckon with how bad things are in contrast.
“I think about texting my friends from the middle of the woods...
Humans are a part of nature and we created these things. There's this Bjork quote where she says that "You can use pro tools and still be pagan." I'm really into the idea of using technology as a tool for divination and holy connection with nature. I imagine a scene; being in moss, it's absolute bliss, and then the connection of texting, sharing an image of moss with a friend, sharing that moment through cellular towers.”
The album "adding up" by thanks for coming is composed of songs Rachel Brown wrote during what they believe to be the most challenging year of their life. Rachel now looks back on this time in appreciation, recognizing they grew in ways they had never imagined. The entire year, they were committed to following their feelings to wherever it may lead.
“If I hadn't been open to following the almost indiscernible signs I was being sent, then I would have missed out on some of the most important moments in my life.”
Kimberly Consroe holds a Masters in Anthropology along with degrees in Archaeology, Literature, and History. She is currently a Research Analyst at the US Department of Commerce. Her artwork is a passionate escape from a hectic professional life and touches on themes of feminism and nature.
Her works begin as general ideas; their narrative complexity growing with the amount of time she invests in making each one. Her decoupage process starts with cutting hundreds, if not thousands, pieces of paper. The accumulation of clippings sourced from vintage and current-day magazines overlap to tell a story. In Domestication, Kimberly borrows submissive female figures from found images of Ryan Mcguinness's work and places them in a position of power.
“I believe intuition is associated with emotion and experience. It is wisdom and fear, empathy and outrage, distrust and familiarity. It is what we know before we know it. This relates to my artwork in that, from beginning to end, there is never one complete idea concerning the outcome: it is a personal journey. It emerges from an ephemeral narrative that coalesces into a definitive story.”
Anabelle DeClement is a photographer who primarily works with film and is interested in relationships as they exist within a frame. She is drawn to the mystery of the mundane. Intuition exists in her practice as a feeling of urgency and the decision to act on it  ---  a drive often used to describe street photography where the camera catches unexpected moments in an urban environment. Anabelle tends to photograph individuals with whom she has established personal relationships in a slow domestic setting. Her sense of urgency lies in capturing moments of peak intimacy, preserving a memory's informal beauty that otherwise may have been forgotten or overlooked.
Gla5 is a visual artist, poet, bookmaker, production designer, and educator. Play is at the center of their practice. Their process is an experimental one embracing impulse and adventure. Their compositions are informed by relationships among bodies of varying shapes, materials, and densities. Interests that come up in their work include a discernment between symbols and non-symbols, dream states, the portrayal of energy in action, and a fixation on forms such as cups, tables, and spoons.
“I generally think of my work as depicting a layer of life that exists underneath what we see in our everyday lives.”
Gladys Harlow is a sound-based performance artist, comedian, and activist who experiments with found objects, contact mics, textures, range, analog formats, present moments, and emotions. Through raw, avant-garbage performance art, they aim to breakdown societal barriers, abolish oppressive systems, and empower communities. Gladys was born in Queens, NY, raised in Miami, FL and has deep roots in Venezuela. Currently haunting in Philadelphia, PA, Gladys is a founding member of Sound Museum Collective. SMC holds space for reconstructing our relationships to sounds by creating a platform for women, nonbinary, and trans sound artists and engineers.
Street Rat is a visceral exploration of the mysteries of life. Attempting to bring heavy concepts to your reality, it is the eye on the ground that sees and translates all intersecting issues as they merge, explode, dissolve, and implode. Street Rat is Gladys Harlow's way of comprehending, coping, feeling, taking action, disrupting the status quo, and rebuilding our path.
All Power To The People originated as a recorded performance intended to demystify sound by revealing the tools, wires, and movements used to create it. All Power To The People evolved into an installation conceived specifically for this exhibition. The installation includes a theremin and oscillator built by Gladys, a tarot deck they made by hand, and books from the artist's personal collection, amongst other elements. Gladys has created a structure of comfort and exploration. They welcome all visitors of divine knowing to play with the instrument, flip freely through the books, and pull a tarot card to take home.
Phoebe Hart is an experimental animator and filmmaker. A majority of her work is centered around mental illness and the line between dreams and reality. Merry Go Round is a sculptural zoetrope that changes in shape and color as it spins. Its form is inspired by nature and its color by the circus. The video’s sound was produced by Hayden Waggener. It consists of reverbing chimes which are in rhythm with the stop animation’s movement; both oscillate seamlessly between serene and anxious states.
“I often don't plan the sculptures or objects I am fabricating, there is a vague image in my mind, and my hands take care of the rest. I find that sometimes overthinking is what can get me and other artists stuck. If I just abandon my judgments and ego, I can really let go and create work that feels like it came inherently from me.”
Powerviolets is the solo project of multi-instrumentalist Violet Hetson who is currently based in New York. After experiencing several false starts while bouncing coast to coast, recording and performing with several lineups, Hetson has finally released her debut album. ~No Boys~ namesake is a sarcastic sign she hung on her suburban CT teenage bedroom door. Violet Hetson grew up primarily listening to punk and hardcore. She parses elements of these genres with influences from bands such as X and Suburban Lawns. ~No Boys~ takes a softer, melodic approach to Hetson's punk roots. Powerviolets' music is linear, unconventional, dark, and airy with a sense of humor.
Mary Hunt is a fiber artist specializing in chain stitch embroidery. This traditional form of embroidery uses vintage machinery and thick thread to create fibrous art and embellishments. They use an approach called "thread painting," which requires each stitch to be hand guided by the turn of a knob underneath the table while the speed of movement is controlled by a foot pedal. Chainstitch works can take anywhere from 20 minutes to 200 hours, encouraging a slow and thoughtful process. Mary uses a Cornely A machine, made in Paris more than 100 years ago.
“I think we are sent messages and guidance constantly. Our intuition is simply our ability to clear the path for those messages. The largest obstacles on my artistic path are usually self-imposed negative thoughts. I simply do things to take care of my spiritual well-being, first and foremost, and the rest follows. If I can trust the universe, trust the process, then I am much more likely to listen to the messages sent my way.”
Jes the Jem is a multi-media artist working with acrylic, watercolor, mold clay, and whatever else she can get her hands on. She uses vivid color to bring joy into the lives of those who view her art. Jes the Jem has experienced a great deal of pain in her life. Through that unique displeasure, she has been gifted a nuanced perspective. She aims to energize the present while paying homage to the past events that shape us. In her art, her life, and her interpersonal relationships, Jes the Jem appreciates the gift of all of life's experiences.
“The pursuit of happiness and understanding is instinct.”
Pamela Kivi pieces together visual scraps she has saved over the years, choosing to fuse them at whatever present moment she sees fit. Her work reflects on creative mania, fleeting emotions, and memories. Pamela's collages are a compilation of unexpected elements that include: old notebooks, cut-outs, text messages or Facebook message conversations, nostalgic cellphone photos, and visual materials she has chosen to hold onto. She prints out, cuts up, scans, edits, repeats. Pamela's artistic practice is deeply personal. It is a submittal to the process of dusting things off until a reflection can be seen, all enacted without an attachment to the end result.
“I rely on intuition and whatever state of mind I am in to whisk me away. In life, I often confuse intuition with anxiety- when it comes to creative work, I can decipher the two.”
Through sobriety, Kendall Kolenik's focus has shifted toward self-discovery and shedding old adaptive patterns, a process that led her to a passion for helping others heal themselves too. In autumn, she will begin her Masters in Social Work at Columbia University.
“I love how when I'm painting my self-doubt becomes so apparent. Painting shows me exactly where my doubt lies, which guides me towards overriding it. When I paint something and lean into doubt, I don't like what comes out. When I take note of the resistance and go with my gut more freely, I love it. This reminds me of my yoga practice. What you practice on the mat is a metaphor for how you show up in life. By breathing through the uncomfortable poses on the mat, you learn to breathe through challenging life moments.
I think we all grow up learning to numb and edit ourselves. We are taught not to trust our feelings; we are told to look outside ourselves for answers when we already have a perfectly good compass within. Painting is an archway back to that for me - rediscovering self-reliance and faith in my first instinct. When I'm creating these rainbow squares, sometimes I move so fast it's like something else is carrying me. I sort of leave myself and enter a trance. Like how you don't have to tell the heart to beat or the lungs to breathe - thinking goes away and I can get so close to my knowing that I become it. I love how art allows me to access my love for ambiguity, interpretation, and an interpretation that feels closer to Truth. I find no greater purpose than guiding people back to safety and reconnecting them with themselves. The most important thing to ever happen in my life was when I stopped trying to deny my reality - listening to your intuition can be like a freefall - no one but you can ever know or tell you - it is a deep trust without any outside proof.”
Lucille Loffredo is a music school dropout, Jewish trans lesbian, and veterinary assistant doing her best to make sure each day is better than the last. Lucille tries to find the music rather than make it. She lets it tell her what it wants to do and what it wants to be. The Wandering EP was in part written as a way to come out to herself. She asks all listeners to please be gentle.
“Change will come, and it will be good. You are who you think you are, no matter how far it seems.”
Whitney Lorenze generally works without reference, making thick, graphic pictures with precise forms conceived almost entirely from her imagination. Images like a slowly rolling car crackling out of a driveway, afternoon sun rays shining through a cloud of humidity, or headlights throwing a lined shadow across a black bedroom inspire her.
“As it concerns my own practice and the creation of artworks generally, I would define intuition as the ability to succumb to some primal creative impulse. Of course, this implies also the ability to resist the temptations of producing a calculated or contrived output.”
Ellie Mesa began teaching herself to paint at the age of 15, exploring landscapes and portraiture. Her work has evolved into a style of painting influenced by surrealism where teddy bears will morph into demons and vice versa. Her work speaks to cuteness, the grotesque, and mystical beings. The painting "Kali" is an homage to the Hindu goddess of creation,  destruction, life and death. This was Ellie's first painting after becoming sober and is an expression of the aforementioned forces in her own life. Through meditations on Kali, Elli has been able to find beauty in the cycle of love and loss.
“To me, intuition means doing the thing that feels right whether or not it's what you want it to be. When I'm painting or making a sculpture, I give myself the freedom to follow what feels right, even if that means starting over or changing it completely. I allow the piece to present itself to me instead of forcing something that doesn't want to be.”
Mari Ogihara is a sculptor exploring duality, resilience, beauty, and serenity as experienced through the female gaze. Her work is informed by the duality of womanhood and the contradictions of femininity. In particular, the multitude of roles we inhabit as friend, lover, sister, and mother and their complex associations to the feminine perspective.
“Intuition is an innate, immediate reaction to an experience. While making art, I try to balance intuition, logic, and craftsmanship.”
All Of Me Is War by Ames Valaitis addresses the subconscious rifts society initiates between women, estranging them from each other and themselves.
“It is an unspoken, quick, and quiet battle within me as the feeling of intuition purely, and when I am making a drawing. I am immediately drawn to poses and subject matter that reflect the emotion inside myself, whether it is loud or under the surface. If a line or figure doesn't move me, after working on it for a few minutes, I get rid of it. If something looks right to me immediately, I keep it; nurture it. I try to let go of my vision, let my instinct take hold. I mirror this in my life as I get older, choosing who and what to put my energy into. The feeling is rarely wrong; I'd say we all know inherently when it is time to continue or tap out.”
Chardel Williams is a self-taught artist currently living in Bridgeport. Her biggest inspiration is her birthplace of Jamaica. Chardel views painting as a method for blocking out chaos. Her attraction to the medium springs from its coalescence of freedom, meditative qualities, and the connection it engenders. rears.
“Intuition for me is going where my art flows. I implement it in my practice by simply creating space and time to listen. There are times when what I'm painting is done in everyone else's eyes, but I just keep picking at it. Sometimes I would stop painting a piece and go months without touching it. Then, out of nowhere, be obsessed with finishing. I used to get frustrated with that process, but now I go with it. I stopped calling it a block and just flow with it. I listen because my work talks.”
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some-flyleaves · 6 years
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when I pick up a book called What the #@&% is That? I know I’m in for a ride, for better or for worse
conclusion: inconclusive, but you can get quite a variety outta the prompt “a character has to say or think the phrase ‘what the [fuck] is that’”
So this book came in the library a few months ago; checked it out, read one or two stories, drowned in schoolwork, returned it, and have since read it on and off when things are slow and I got nothing better to do. (Yeah, I get paid to sit around and read sometimes. It’s a good gig.) Finally finished it tonight and, well. It’s a thing!
Aside from the titular phrase, none of the stories are connected - different authors, different writing styles, hell even different genres. Have some bullet-point thoughts.
“Mobility” by Laird Barron is... weird. I vaguely remember reading that the guy is a master of cosmic horror, and if this is how the genre usually works then I’m in no rush to read Lovecraft. Surreal imagery turns into pretentious metaphors turns into torture porn turns into surreal pretentious metaphors. Not a fan.
“Fossil Heart” by Amanda Walker is, uh, gay? I think?? I’d need to reread this one to get a better grasp on it but I’m in no rush. From what I remember, it’s about a woman who’s literally haunted by her past (got her girlfriend killed or drowned or something?) and then... changes that. somehow? I guess??? The prose is dreamlike, present tense, and while I’m all for not spoonfeeding the audience, I feel like I don’t remember this one as well because I didn’t really understand what was going on. It was one of the earlier stories I read, to be fair, but I also recall other early stories much more vividly.
“Those Goddamn Cookies” by Scott Sigler is clever as hell, and while the progression is a tad predictable post-twist reveal, I was definitely not expecting a little space scifi out of this book. There are some nice characterization touches throughout, the intersection of thoughts and narrative gets intense when needed, and honestly? Would not have called the ending when the intro has the protagonist smelling fresh-baked cookies.
“The Sound of Her Laughter” by Simon R. Green is apparently forgettable enough I needed to skim it again just now to remember what the hell it was about. There’s a couple. Unreal stuff happens, I guess. Characterization was alright...? Uh. Yeah. No dislike but not impressed.
“Down and Deep in the Dark” by Desirina Boskovich is at least memorable, albeit for mixed reasons. Narrated by a snarky teenager(/young woman? I forget the age) whose brother is getting married, the story finds narrator whatshername in charge of babysitting her near-future nephew. It doesn’t seem particularly horrific until ~things go wrong~, something with animals turning up dead by the hotel the family’s staying at and rooms in the hallway that shouldn’t be there.... The first-person and initially casual tone were a nice change of pace, but once the buildup started, it kinda just seemed like creepy stuff for the sake of Creepy Stuff. And of course the aforementioned nephew gets to be a creepy child, because of course he is. I have a habit of reading spoilers before actually getting into a piece of media, which in the case of short stories means skipping to the end before reading from the start. Sometimes the buildup and resolution is very clever, and at least one story later still caught me off-guard once I knew the context of the twist! But sometimes, as with this story... Stuff Just Happens.
“Only Unclench Your Hand” by Isabel Yap is mildly haunting with an ending that, while not exactly thought-provoking, sports just the kind of... not bittersweet, but it’s got a hesitant, uncertain vibe that I can’t quite put into words but always appreciate. Also narrated in first-person by a youngish gal whose name and exact age I forget, the story finds her studying abroad in a small village where everyone knows everyone, for better or for worse. The family she’s staying with has a couple daughters, one around the narrator’s age and the other younger but thankfully not in the “obligatory annoying sibling” way. And then Shit Goes Wrong(TM), but in a less random way than the previous story, and from what I remember it’s not even that heavy on the supernatural stuff until later! Overall a good read with an interesting twist. Also canon gay, I think. There’s a pleasantly surprising amount of Gal Pals(TM) in this anthology.
“Little Widows” by Maria Dahvana Headley also has gals who are friends (not romantic though), cults, and... dinosaurs, I guess? Its premise is interesting enough - “sisters” raised in a cult encounter their “Preacher” and Comeuppance Ensues - in a way that begs to be taken seriously but... can’t, really, imo. Weird Religious Cult(TM) is already asking or some suspension of disbelief from me, since while of course they exist they’re a lot less common than their prominence media would suggest, but fuckign. dinosaurs? when the story up until then has been grounded enough?? Yeah, nah, ya lost me.
“The Bad Hour” by Christopher Golden is BRILLIANT. That thing I mentioned about skipping to the end first? applies here, and this is the story that still floored me once I finished it. An army veteran visits a closed-in town for reasons that aren’t revealed upfront but make for some great fridge logic, and I can’t say much else without spoiling but it’s very much worth a read. Great atmosphere, interesting characters, holy shit.
“What is Lost, What is Given Away” by John Langan is another story I had to skim just now to remember and even then Iiiiii got nothin. The narrator attends a high school reunion and eldritchy stuff happens to a guy or something. I vaguely remember thinking some moments were clever when I was reading but apparently not too clever. V: Also, it’s long. Next.
“Now and Forever” by D. Thomas Minton is about a father protecting his family from a mysterious Fiend in a vaguely post-apocalyptic setting. Until he isn’t. Can’t say much else without giving it away but while it does its job, I wasn’t a huge fan. Spoiler alert: unreliable narrators aren’t my favorite trope, though I appreciate that we didn’t learn right off the bat the guy wasn’t actually doing his job as well as he thought he was. Or was he. For obvious reasons, the circumstances are left vague; presumably you can pick up a few more worldbuilding details on a reread, but I think I’ll pass.
“#ConnollyHouse #WeShouldntBeHere” by Seanan McGuire is creative as all hell, and even if the scares given are kinda flat, I gotta give it points for format alone. As the title might suggest, the entire story is told in a series of tweets from @boo_peep, including timestamp, hashtags, and retweets from @friends as they, as part of a regular haunted house exploration gig, delve into the titular Connolly House. The format makes for a breezy read, and a certain twist will probably have you rereading just to catch some fun little details. Which is impressive, considering character limit is (presumably? I ain’t counting) obeyed throughout. And when Boo Peep isn’t SCREAMING about the hell she’s seeing, there’s an awful lot left to the imagination. #FunTimes
“The House that Love Built” by Grady Hendrix is also forgettable. There’s a guy. He dates women. People die. Wheee. Actually, it was this or the other one with the couple where I at least liked a couple characterization tidbits. Maybe both? But yeah, not my favorite. Movin’ on.
“We All Make Sacrifices: A Sam Hunter Adventure” by Jonathan Maberry is, on one hand, a cookie cutter story about a cynical vigilante-ex-cop, and honestly I kinda regret looking up the author’s other work after reading because it pointed me towards reviews calling out his writing for being so tropey. Because while reading? Might be that I’m not too familiar with the mystery genre, but it was a heckin fun ride. Great characterization, both on behalf of the titular protagonist and the various side characters, even if the antagonist being described as (paraphrasing) “pretty much your typical entitled rich boy” gets a little grating. The story is cliche but shamelessly so, and eh, I usually don’t care for that but it got me anyway. Also, Hunter is a werewolf. That’s fun and it spoke to my old flame of werecanine appreciation but shhh.
“Ghost Pressure” by Gemma Files is... kinda all over the place? a bit? Horror, now at a senior home. I wasn’t entirely clear on who the narrative was following, and while the means of Supernatural Horror is interesting, it leaves a lot to be desired. Ah well, shout out for being about the older among us, I guess? Come to think of it, it could’ve done something thematically with the whole “no one wants you anymore/the people who take care of you are dead” idea, but it... didn’t. discernibly. to me.
“The Daughter out of Darkness” by Nancy Holder features a misogynist unreliable narrator, presented as a sort of case file. Does its job I guess, but lost me at the “letter from an asylum” setup.
“Framing Mortensen” by Adam-Troy Castro is one of if not the favorite story of mine in here, because holy SHIT, is it vivid in all the wrong ways. The narrator has a hellish grudge against Mortensen, for reasons I don’t quite remember and that aren’t terribly important anyway. The real horror (and call for suspension of disbelief) is in what he does with the guy, both in terms of “murder” because of course he does and subsequent, er, treatment. It’s dawning on me this makes it sound like a necrophilia nightmare but it’s not torture porn I swear. Also, if the opening story failed at eldritch abomination-type horror, this one more than compensates by the end. Another good read, would definitely recommend.
“The Catch” by Terence Taylor also features a rather despicable narrator, and while I’m tired as anyone of ~ooh no serial killer who has no feelings what a [insert outdated psychology buzzwords here]~, I gotta say this surprised me. It’s... weird. Not really pornographic but because of Reasons it may raise some eyebrows. Can’t say more than that without giving away the big twist, but I’ll admit the ending threw me for a loop and not for unforeshadowed reasons. Bonus points for fridge brilliance in the title!
“Hunters in the Wood” by Tim Pratt is gay, now with dudes, and also trying really hard to be a hunger games spinoff while lampooning the very premise of the hunger games and dystopias like it. (Side note: I have not actually read or watched The Hunger Games. Writing style didn’t catch me, not too interested in the movies.) Take the self-aware commentary from the Sam Hunter story, boost it way up in some expository worldbuilding, throw in some vague eldritchy stuff, and you get this. Mind, it doesn’t last, but it was just annoying enough to me while it did that I wasn’t too invested in the rest of the story. Ah well. I just wish it was bigger on the eldritch and smaller on the totally-not-social-commentary.
“Whose Drowned Face Sleeps” by An Owomoyela and Rachel Swirsky is, for lack of a better word, haunting. Like “Fossil Heart,” it’s got an almost dreamlike narrative style while the actual events are... sorta down to earth? more or less? Except not really, but once the weird stuff starts happening, you’re in the appropriate mood. I found the execution much better here though, between most events being much less vague & more grounded characters. And while exactly what happens and why is unclear, it blurs that line between psychological “haunting” and real life disaster in a way that reminds me of Paranoia Agent. Mind, I read this one tonight and the earlier on months ago; to really compare/contrast I’d have to reread both in one sitting. (Also, could have done without the allusions to sex scenes but At Least It’s Lesbians(TM).)
“Castleweep” by Alan Dean Foster is the closing story of this anthology and boy is it a “love, hate, or love to hate” narrative. A rich tourist and his girlfriend are taking a trip through the ~jungles of Africa~ and he’s about as entitled as you might expect. The narrative doesn’t bend over backwards to condemn the guy because it pulls no punches letting his thought process speak for itself, whether he’s talking his guide into a side trip to a forbidden castle or sticking to his pride when the detour soon proves less than worthwhile. By the time the horror kicks in, you may or may not want the fucker dead anyway - the story seems aware of this and lavishes on the grotesque details. Which... I found unnecessary, and the reasons for the castle being haunted as it was were decently foreshadowed but heavy-handed as hell. Decent enough read if you wanna see a snobby dude and his girlfriend (the latter of whom deserves better, tbfh) get brutally mauled...!
Overall, for a cover and title that promise top notch eldritch horror, the actual stories range from generic spooky shit to really clever but not necessarily scary plot twists and story developments to... what the fuck did I just read. Seriously, a good amount of the phrase drops weren’t even at some big moment of Monsterening - there weren’t even monsters (in the nonhuman creature sense, blablabla ~humanity is the real monster~) in like... half of these? So if that’s what you expect, back out. Also, none of these are gonna keep me awake at night, and I wouldn’t say I have a particularly high tolerance to horror (good ol’ fashioned creepypastas and jumpscares can and have given me all-nighters), but YMMV on that.
However!! Despite my middling reviews on most of these, there are a few that really stand out, and I’d say the anthology is worth checking out just for those. Not a read I regret, overall. And everyone didn’t even die at the end!
(Oh, and did I mention it’s pretty gay? I counted like... at least three Gal Pal duos and one #YesHomo couple, and while I’m definitely not about to get into a story just because it has ~representation~ and the m/f couples probably outnumber 'em by a long shot, it was still a nice surprise. Just sayin’.)
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