#this was inspired by an image I took of a sunrise from the view of a plane but i went off track

[1ia]

I am the passenger

[archandshri]

8th March ‘24 - [arch] colour!!!! community!!!

Hey Shri! <3 

Wow!!!! I’ve seen the finished Brothers Lionheart cover already, but those thumbnails are just incredible. I know you plan to move away from the dark/horror vibes of those images but they’re so impactful!! For sure save those compositions for something else. You’ve put so so much thought into those compositions, it’s inspiring me to put that level of thought into my images too. It's nuts!!!

So y’know how the plan for this blog was to take it easy and do a little at a time? Maybe just pop in and update each other on what we’ve been working on, or even what’s been inspiring us? Well, we haven’t exactly been taking it easy have we :// At the beginning of writing this I thought it was gonna be a chill one but,,, it turned out not to be.

I was lucky enough to be back in Cardiff for a bit the other week, so I hit up the Riso studio. It was super lovely seeing everyone - really made me realise the value of having an artistic community. (for context, I have been travelling recently and it’s been weird, after uni, to not be surrounded by other illustrators)

About once a month, my shared print studio has an event called Open Haus, where we’re open to the public but also loads of members will come in, have a cuppa and a biscuit and talk about art stuff. I happened to be doing some riso printing and Gavin, who’s a right babe and an excellent riso artist, was once again giving me a hand. I love working with other people in the studio, bouncing ideas off them. It sometimes helps me get out of my head (though with practice, I’m also learning to do that by myself!)

Here’s a bit of development work for the print I did a few days before printing. It was actually a bit of development for my comfort characters’ home - but as you know i love building my skills through fun things like that! Trick yourself in to improving xD

This is the print I made!! It’s titled ‘Space Fyn’, named after a place I associate with home <3 

I ran into a bit of an issue with the blue, which I originally planned to use. Once I printed it, I hated it (blehhhhhh), so! We tried a mint out instead. I still didn’t like it. But thankfully, Gavin did this thing where he made me step back and view it from afar and then I liked it again (this has happened twice now I think I need to learn to step back without his help ://) Also, there were about 10 people in the studio, and they all voted on the mint, so I printed a run of 15! (ps. you can order them by dming me on Instagram)

Later, I was showing a friend the progress and she made some great points. The dark blue gives more of an evening vibe, while the mint gives more of a sunrise vibe, a bit brighter. But also, it totally changes the tone! This has led me to think more about how different colours can be used for particular vibes :0 and how can we bend that and make it more interesting than ‘red danger’ and ‘blue sad’. 

Some notes I took from our conversation

Looking at colours in particular genres (they are used differently in specific ways in different contexts) 

for example in Westerns, good guys wearing a white hat and bad guys wearing black hats - misc characters wearing brown.

Light sabres in Star Wars very clearly symbolising ideology

Characters attached to colour - she uses blue and red to symbolise characters that oppose each other in some way, for example.

Character designs, using colours that match well for more grounded characters, and colours that clash for more unstable characters

Power rangers!!

What colour is your ‘normal’ for the world? And how will specific characters break that or blend in?

All of these are just prompts and thinking points of course, it’ll take a lot of exploring to know how i want to apply these to my work.

I was lucky enough to attend Plymouth Comic and Zine fair!!!!! (this is me :0 !!)

It was very lovely, I really enjoyed seeing people from uni, the general Plymouth illustration scene, and those few illustrators you know but only really see at fairs. I also got the opportunity to have some awesome chats about illustration (shoutout to that one hermitcraft fan who let me ramble about Minecraft builds and setting design for a bit <3). I had a chat with the wonderful Ben Wright and Jess Holloway about colours, especially in narrative, and here are some ideas I took away from that!

They didn’t have any specific suggestions for books about colour and narrivite,  but again, film came up! Colours in film are discussed a lot, and vary a lot in genre, so i’ll have to do some looking into that.

In particular wes anderson might be good to look at 

Hero by Jet Li - haven’t looked at this yet

How to take colour that we may associate with a particular feeling and instead make it do something else. (eg. how to make blue happy)

Colour in context with shape and composition

I was very excited after PCZF and got hyperfixated on a little drawing. You and I were chatting about folds in clothes at the fair, so this image was to play with that a bit.

Yes this is an image of my favorite block lady. I love her. [Illustration of GeminiTay, along with her season 10 skin]

I decided to use the colour pick tool from my reference for accurate colours, which I don’t normally do. I do have a habit of going too light with my values, and a bit swampy and desaturated with my colours. When I started with her trousers, I thought it was wayyyy too dark, but I decided to stick with it till the end anyway. Even though it clearly worked in the reference image, I was still surprised it worked on mine. This has proved to me that it’s okay to push and use some darker colours - which is a bit scary but I’m going to give it a go.

'messing around with colors with imp and skizz' by @applestruda

I also saw this incredible image by @applestruda using wonderful colours! This led me to play around with some high-saturation images. I wanted to draw one of GeminiTay’s builds with the spooky vibes she’s been trying to capture. I downloaded applestruda’s image, colour shifted the hue to one that fits the energy I wanted to capture, and used it to create a high saturation colour pallet. This is a great starting point since I’ve never worked with this kind of colour palette before - it gives me a starting point rather than drowning in indecision and cluelessness XD

Here’s a timelapse of the study!

Once I’d finished, I hue-shifted them for some alt colours. I find this a helpful process for figuring out colour stuff that I would never consider normally. I think I like these more, actually. The one with the reddish wood and green accents feels like it has the vibes of the original image, but is exaggerated a bit. I think it pops. And the pink is cool. I think I could have pushed the values further again, but I'm pretty happy with the final images.

So those are my colour thoughts over for now - I’m hoping to keep playing but use of colour is for sure a lifelong skill. 

The past few weeks have been so awesome. I’ve just been so so moulded by conversations with my artistic community and it’s been so lovely!!! I’m really enjoying running around the country and visiting all my pals. It was so nice to see you at PCZF and I’m looking forward to more of it!!! :D

Ps. Here are some sketches I did at the fair

Can’t wait to see more lionheart lil guys :0

Archie <3 :)))))))))

[pwlanier]

Making Art by Day, Guarding It by Night.

Greg Kwiatek, a painter, at his studio in the garment district in Manhattan, April 21, 2023. Over 25 years walking the museum’s midnight shift, Kwiatek learned how to look for the hidden subtleties of paintings, which helped inform his own. (Victor Llorente/The New York Times)

NEW YORK, NY.- The small hours of the morning — when the galleries were empty, hushed and dim — were Greg Kwiatek’s favorite part of his 25 years as a night guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, when he could spend hours looking at a single painting like El Greco’s “Christ Carrying the Cross,” J.M.W. Turner’s “Whalers” or ​Johannes Vermeer’s “A Maid Asleep.”

Then, shortly after sunrise, Kwiatek, now 74, went home to his rent-controlled railroad flat apartment in Hoboken, New Jersey ($557 a month) to work on his own paintings, which were often inspired by those he’d guarded at the museum.

Now Kwiatek’s work is on view, through May 14, in a small group show at Fierman Gallery on the Lower East Side.

“He developed a very intimate relationship with much of the collection, and a lot of that has really permeated his practice,” said Alissa Friedman, who organized the show, “Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere,” which includes work by artists Chonon Bensho and Amy Bessone. “Some of his works are direct homages.”

Working at the Met taught Kwiatek how to look. When the Met had a Francis Bacon retrospective in 2009, for example, Kwiatek said he logged about 70 hours.

“You get an hour to do a route,” Kwiatek said in a recent interview at his cramped garment district studio, referring to one of the museum’s seven sections. “I would do a route in maybe 40 minutes, and then I would have 20 minutes to focus on one piece. I got to know some paintings pretty well by doing that.”

Kwiatek is emblematic of a large but little-known swath of the art world — those who have never been famous and likely never will be but doggedly, passionately keep at it anyway.

His paintings are quiet and understated. He often makes versions of the same image repeatedly — in particular a series inspired by a 1906 photograph of Paul Cézanne carrying his paintings. The small ones go for about $5,000; the larger ones for about $20,000. He also painstakingly sews needlepoint images, many of which echo his paintings of the moon and sun.

A tall, solid man from a Polish family in Pittsburgh, Kwiatek radiates the taciturn intensity of an introvert who would much rather be communing with paintings than humans.

Indeed, this is what made Kwiatek gravitate toward the overnight shift at the Met in 1987, where he worked until retirement in 2011. “I’m not a people person,” Kwiatek said. “I figured by working at night, I wouldn’t have to deal with the public much.”

The schedule wasn’t easy — working from 12:15 a.m. to 8:20 a.m. and then going home to paint meant he was always tired. But the lifestyle suited him. And he took pride in the work.

“My job was to walk at least four hours a night,” Kwiatek said. “You know every square inch of this building — you’re doing surveillance. You cover every gallery, every catwalk, every roof, cellar, offices, bathroom. You’re looking for fire and water and so on.”

It’s been over a decade since Kwiatek last walked these routes, yet the Met’s physical plant remains in his bones. “Route Three includes European painting, painting conservation, Japanese art, musical instruments, Arms and Armor,” he said. “The Rockefeller wing, that would be Route Six. You’re looking at all the cases. You’re looking at that boat that’s hanging from the ceiling.

“We’re drinking 20 cups of coffee a day. I would sleep an hour on my lunch break at 4 o’clock in the morning,” he continued. “You’re living with works of genius. And I’m not a genius. But I knew that what I had the privilege of guarding — it was otherworldly.”

Kwiatek was featured in Alexandra M. Isles’ 2011 documentary “Hidden Treasures: Stories from a Great Museum” talking about the layers in El Greco’s “View of Toledo.”

“From this point of view, this modest-size painting looks like a very large painting, the details are not clear — is it a landscape? Is it an abstraction? Maybe it’s a mirage,“ Kwiatek says in the film. “The hidden subtleties will not reveal themselves unless one is willing to come back time and time again and live with this work in an extended relationship.”

Growing up near Polish Hill in Pittsburgh — where his father worked in the steel mill, and his mother crocheted in front of soap operas — Kwiatek got his first exposure to art at the historic Immaculate Heart of Mary Church, which was influenced by baroque and Renaissance architecture.

Art Daily

[arthist0rian]

Kiyomizudera at kyoto By kawase hasui

A couple of years ago i attended a class in japanese art, i bought for it a couple of very expensive books that talked about the subject, on of the book was (and still is) the holy grail of japanese art manual, the Mason, a, all red book with black and white pages and insert of colored paintings in between section. This painting is the second to last to be included colored, you can almost miss.

I need to talk a bit about the artist first, before diving on the stamp. Kawase Hasui (1883-1957) was a painter and printer based in tokyo. He was one of the most known exponent of the shin-hanga movement (new prints), a new art movement spread after the 20th century trying to revitalize the classic ukiyo-e movement, using the traditional system of various people performing the print art (painter, carver, inker, publisher). This new movements took inspiration also from western art, like effects of light and individal moods. Also because most of the prints were aimed to the a western consumer and not to the inside japanese market. Even tho for most of his carreer Hasui had reproduced only famous landscape, none of the print were considered meisho, often because most of his print rapresent local aspect or less touritsy, such as lagoon landscapes outside the usual tourist routes. Kawase in particular loved to reproduce the landscape, monuments, popular neighborhoods and city aspects at specific times of the day or in specific weather conditions; rain, snow, sunrises and sunsets make up the prevailing atmosphere of numerous scenes and views. His prints are often lacking of title or testual notes about the place the scene is set.

We are in a night scene, looking down to kyoto in the distance from the kiyomizudera temple. To the right we see the entrance of the tample and to our left we see a man, we can look only at his back, because he is too looking at the city beneath us. The sky blue, with just two white dots, we don't know if they are stars, print errors or the beginning of a snow storm. The images is impactfull, the calm and silence trascend the paper and meet us. I like to think that if we look at the print for too much time we can start to hear the wind howling in the distance, or if we want to set it in the summer the cicadas noise that japan is full in the countryside.

[blrowanducks-blog]

THE EASTERN DRAGON

(Sanscrit: 'vitra', Tibetian, 'brug', Chinese 'lung')

The monotheistic religious traditions of the Middle East and Europe have portrayed the dragon as a ferocious and even a satanic monster, a guardian of hidden treasure, an abductor of children and a seducer of virgins. Saint Michael and Saint George are the archetypal knights who destroyed the controlling primal power of the dragon, slaying that which was evil and releasing that which was pure in the form of childlike innocence, a maiden's chastity, or sacred treasure. In general is is a image that must be subdued, defeated or banished.

The Asian dragon is viewed in a far more positive light: it represents the strong male yang principle of heaven, change, energy, and creativity. The basic image of the Chinese dragon first appeared in unearthed carvings from the neolithic period, dating back to around the fifth millenium BC. As such the dragon is one of mankind's earliest representational symbols. The dragon is believed to have served originally as a tribal totem, combining the head of a pig with the body of the snake, and the mane of the horse. In this aspect it is recorded that the Yellow Emperor Huang Di took the cloud as his symbol, the Fiery Emperor Yan Di took fire as his symbol, Emperor Gong Gang took water as his symbol, Emperor Da Hao took the dragon as his symbol, and Emperor Shao Hao took the phoenix as his symbol. Each of these dynasties were of different tribal origins yet their symbols are found to this day as emblems on Imperial insignia and brocade designs.

The dragon and phoenix, which represented the Emperor and Empress of China as the union of heaven (dragon) and earth (phoenix), are believed by archaeologists to have their origin in the pig and pheasant. Fossil remains of dino- saurs found in China, and very commonly in the Gobi desert are more likely to have provided the inspiration for the dragon's gigantic serpentine form.

The earliest written description of the dragon occurs in the I Ching (Book of Changes), where its elusive or hidden creative nature is hinted at. The dragon is believed to be a shape-shifter with the ability to transmute its form at will. It can render itself invisible, decrease to the size of a silkworm, or expand its body to fill the skies. At the spring equinox it ascends into the sky, where it remains until the autumn equinox when it descends into a deep pool, encasing itself in the mud until the next spring. As one of the four supernatural animals of Buddhism the azure or turquoise dragon represents the light increasing power of springtime and the easterly direction of the sunrise.

Like the Indian naga, the legendary dragon of China has always had a strong association with weather prognostication; in particular it is linked to billowing thunderclouds and electric storms. Forked lightning emanates from its claws and fiery ball lightning blazes from its mouth. Its voice is the roll of thunder, sheet lightning its restless writhing amidst the dark storm clouds, and torrential rain the down pour from its glistening scales. The four jewels it grasps in its claws produce dew and a downpour of rain when it clenches them tightly. The shell of a tortoise was used for weather divination and a jade dragon was prayed to in times of drought. A waterspout was known as a 'living dragon, mystical flaming pearl or night-shining pearl, which is a tornado or whirlwind, as a 'hanging dragon, while tidal waves and submarine earthquakes were viewed as the anger of one of the four dragons of the oceans. Chinese annals record several instances of famous dragon painters who were requested to paint dragons in times of drought usually on the four walls of a special hall erected next to a 'dragon pool'. The painted dragons were so realistically painted that they are said to have become living creatures, destroying the walls of the hall in a fury of thunder and rain as they dived into the dragon pool. Dragon painting became a major art form in medieval China, particularly during the period of the Five Dynasties (AD 907-60) and Sang Dynasty (AD) 960-1279), when individual schools of both dragon and fish painting evolved.

There are more than seventy different Chinese characters for writing the word dragon. It is said to occur in nine distinct subspecies: the celestial, spiritual, winged, coiled. horned, snouted, yellow, water, and treasure guarding dragons. The typical dragon is said to possess three sections and nine likenesses. The three sections are its head to forelegs forelegs to waist, and waist to tail. The nine likenesses are as follows: it has a head like a camel; horns like a deer, eyes like those of a demon, rabbit, or prawn, a snake-like neck; fish scales; the belly of a giant clam or frog: ears like a cow; the forelegs and footpads of a tiger; and claws of an eagle. Along its back it has a ridge of eighty-one dorsal fins like a monitor lizard, and its coiled and flowing hair resembles a horse's mane. Carp like whiskers appear above its upper lip, the eyebrows flare upwards, a small beard hangs from the chin, it has wild staring eyes, wrinkled creases above its frowning snout, a flank of small pointed dorsal fins adorns its jaw, knees, and tail, it has the cylindrical horns of a deer, and tongues of lightning flame emanate along the front of its legs. It writhes in a billow of clouds with its claws grasping the four wish fulfilling jewels of the four limbs of magical attainments.

As an imperial emblem of the Chinese Emperor the celestial or palace dragon was represented with five claws. Ministers of the Emperor wore an insignia of a four clawed dragon, and those of lower rank wore a three-clawed dragon. The elitism of the Imperial five-clawed dragon became mandatory in the Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368), when the Emperor issued a proclamation forbidding the depiction or wearing of the dragon by the common people. Officially only five claws constituted the true dragon; those with four claws were known as pythons.

The magical number nine has a numerological affinity with the dragon. It has nine varieties, nine likenesses, eighty- one dorsal scales, and the yang or heavenly lines of the I Ching formed by the number nine. Likewise the Chinese Emperor wore nine dragons on his brocade robe, eight of which were embroidered on the exterior with one 'hidden dragon' on the inside of his robes. Yet there are only three main species of dragons: the powerful horned, the deaf thunder dragon of the skies whose roar and movement produce thunder and lightning, the hornless 'li' of the ocean and the scaled 'chino' which dwells in mountain lakes and caves. A separate emblem that accompanies the dragon is the Garuda depicted as a small red or white sphere surrounded by flames. Legend relates that a certain Chinese minister of state healed a wounded serpent, who was in actuality the son of the dragon king. In return for this act of kindness the serpent disgorged a brilliant pearl from its mouth and presented it to the minister, who in turn gave it to the Emperor. In the Emperor's palace it shone with such brilliance that 'night became as day. Historically the Qianlong Emperor (1735- gh) wore a rare freshwater pearl from the Songhua river as the crowning ornament on his helmet.

In China it was believed that pearls were formed from the mouth of the ocean dragon, whilst in India it was be believed that they were produced by the fire of the sun. It was an Indian belief that pearls protected against harm from fire. A pair of Chinese dragons are often represented as fighting for possession of the flaming pearl, or chasing the elusive pearl across the skies. Momentary contact of the dragon with the flaming pearl produces the lightning flash which illuminates the darkness of the black clouds, revealing the brillant zigzag form of the dragon as white lightning and the rolling roar of his voice as the crashing of thunder. The flaming pearl is in essence the egg of potentiality which is fertilised by the dragon. As a polarity symbol it is the negative point or seed essence which comes into contact with a positive charge during an electrical storm. Its rapid movement across the skies is traced in the flicker of lightning and its forked ascent and descent to earth. One form of lightning is actually known as 'pearl lightning', where the fork tip ex- plodes into a multitude of small white spheres. The flaming pearl has been identified as ball lightning, the sun, the moon, the essence of dragon seed, and 'the pearl of great price" and as the Buddhist wish-fulfilling gem.

In the Hindu tradition the dragon is not specifically identified; its qualities are fully expressed in the indigenous naga of the subcontinent. Perhaps the dragon's closest counterpart arises in the Vedic legend of the sky serpent Vritra, the demon of rain and drought, against whom Indra wages a continual campaign in order to provide rain. Another Vedic legend concerns Meghanada, the roarer of the thunderclouds', who Was the son of the demon Ravana and once overcame Indra by becoming invisible. The Sanskrit term megha meaning thunder' is also used loosely to refer to the dragon. The Japanese adopted the form of the Chinese dragon, which became known as Ryu-Jin, king of the seas

In Buddhism the dragon is the vehicle of Vairochana, the white Buddha of the centre or east. The blue turquoise dragon is the vehicle of many protective deities, aquatic or storm gods, and guardians of treasure where it is closely identified with the naga serpent

The Tibetan term for the dragon 'Brug' refers to the sound of thunder The Buddhist kingdom of Bhutan is known as Druk Yal meaning the land of the thunder dragon, and its inhabitants are known as Drukpas, named after the Drukpa Kagyu lineage established by Tsangpa Gare, who had witnessed nine dragons ascending from the ground into the sky over the site of Ralung where he established the monastery of Ralung (circa 1180 ). The ascent of a dragon or group of dragons is always an auspicious sign. Even in the last decade there have been several reported sightings of dragons in Tibet, one of which is reputed bt some to have been filmed on video camera. The dragon is not seen as a purely mythological creature in China or Tibet where resides firmly in the midst of the psyche. Its appearance was too frequently recorded throughout history to have been assigned to the mythological or extinct species of animals.

In Jungian terms the dragon is the numinous power that is contained within the universe, labeled the "Self" which under certain conditions can be experienced or even harnessed by an i (self).

[laurenbonvini]

Embracing the Elements- Outdoor Photography in All Weather

When it comes to capturing the essence of outdoor moments, Lauren Bonvini is the name that springs to mind. With a passion for photography ignited by her furry companion back in 2015, Lauren has evolved into a professional dog competition photographer, etching tales of athleticism and camaraderie through her lens. Her journey from capturing candid moments at home to thriving in the heart of rugged outdoor events is a testament to her dedication and love for her craft.

Lauren Bonvini

Bonvini is a photographer who committed to cameras in 2015 after adopting her first dog, knowing she wanted to capture their lives together in as much detail as possible, whether they were at home, hiking, or road-tripping across the West," says Lauren, the artist behind the lens. Her story epitomizes the transformative power of photography, where a simple desire to document life's moments can evolve into a thriving career.

Lauren Bonvini Dog

In 2020, Lauren's photographic expertise blossomed as she began crafting captivating portraits and event shoots for friends and acquaintances. The world of photography opened its arms wider in 2021 when she ventured into dog sports photography. With her keen eye for action shots and a deep understanding of canine athleticism, she quickly gained recognition among the dog sports community.

However, it wasn't until 2022 that the idea of PenPals took shape. Inspired by her herding and photography-loving friends scattered across the country, Bonvini decided to embark on this journey, combining her love for dogs, sports, and photography into a harmonious whole. PenPals emerged as a platform where her passion for capturing genuine moments in outdoor settings came to life.

"I love making the experience easy and fun for everyone involved," Lauren emphasizes. Her approach to photography is rooted in creating a comfortable and enjoyable atmosphere, whether she's photographing a canine athlete in action or capturing the intimate moments of an engagement or maternity shoot. In an era where forced poses and artificial smiles are all too common, Lauren's candid and natural style stands out as a refreshing departure.

One of the most significant challenges outdoor photographers face is dealing with varying weather conditions. Mother Nature, with her unpredictable temperament, can throw quite the curveball. Rain, wind, snow, or blistering heat – they're all part of the package when you're dedicated to outdoor photography. But Lauren has a few tips up her sleeve on how to embrace these elements and still capture stunning images.

The Boy Scouts' motto holds for outdoor photographers as well. Always be prepared for the weather you might encounter during a shoot. Carry waterproof gear, lens hoods, and lens cleaning supplies for rainy days. On sunny days, pack sunscreen and hats to protect yourself from harsh sunlight.

Rather than viewing bad weather as a hindrance, embrace it as an opportunity. Rain can create beautiful reflections, while snow can add a magical touch to your photos. Experiment with different weather conditions to add unique elements to your shots.

Outdoor photography is all about harnessing the power of natural light. Different weather conditions can provide distinct lighting opportunities. Cloudy days offer soft, even lighting, while golden hours during sunrise and sunset can create dramatic effects. Adapt your shooting style to the available light.

Invest in weather-sealed camera bodies and lenses. Additionally, use lens filters to protect your front element from rain, snow, and dust. Always keep your gear clean and dry to ensure it functions properly in adverse conditions.

As a photographer, you are an integral part of the outdoor scene. Dress appropriately for the weather to stay comfortable and focused. Layering is key, as it allows you to adapt to changing conditions throughout the day.

Keep an eye on weather forecasts and plan your outdoor shoots accordingly. Sometimes, a little patience can go a long way. Waiting for a break in the weather can result in incredible shots that would have been missed otherwise.

Working with a professional dog competition photographer like Lauren Bonvini can elevate your experience and the quality of your photos to a whole new level. Here are some benefits of entrusting your special moments to a professional.

Professional photographers have honed their craft through years of experience. They understand the intricacies of lighting, composition, and timing to capture the perfect shot. Lauren's journey from a dog owner to an accomplished photographer showcases this progression.

Professionals invest in high-quality cameras, lenses, and accessories to ensure the best results. Lauren's commitment to her craft is evident in her choice of gear, which enables her to capture action shots with precision.

Professional photographers like Lauren bring a unique creative vision to their work. They can transform ordinary moments into extraordinary images, adding depth and emotion to each frame.

Working with a professional photographer is a collaborative process. They take the time to understand your vision and preferences, ensuring that your photos reflect your personality and style.

Professionals are reliable and committed to delivering on their promises. You can trust them to capture your special moments without worrying about technical glitches or missed opportunities.

Whether you're looking to capture the grace and athleticism of your canine companion in a sporting event or create timeless memories during an engagement or maternity shoot, Lauren Bonvini's portfolio showcases her versatility and passion for outdoor photography. Her ability to capture candid, natural moments regardless of the weather sets her apart in the realm of professional photography.

Outdoor photography, like life itself, is full of unpredictability. Yet, it is precisely this unpredictability that adds depth and character to each photograph. Lauren Bonvini's journey from a dog owner to a professional photographer is a testament to the power of passion and dedication.

So, the next time you find yourself amidst the elements, remember Lauren's tips and embrace the challenge. You might just capture a moment that tells a story as beautiful as the great outdoors itself.

[jgenvs3000w23]

Interpreting through nature

Art is one of the greatest lenses of interpretation. It provides an audience with the artist’s perspective of a moment, experience or even location but the beauty of sharing art is having your audience make their own connections to the piece. It is a way of communicating through a timeless piece while reaching various groups of all ages. I am in no way a painter or the most creative but I experience interpretation through art by taking photos on my phone or film camera. Most people have a phone nowadays and it is the quickest way to capture a moment and share the experience with others in hopes of provoking the same serene feeling as the artist at the time (Hooykaas, 2023).

For example, this is one of my favourite pictures of the sunrise I took. The best part of art is being able to remember the exact moment and why you decided to take the picture to begin with. I share this picture with the intention of sharing the gift of beauty that I felt in this moment. The gift of beauty provides the audience with the ability to acknowledge the sense of beauty in their surroundings and provide a spiritual uplift (Beck et al. 2018).  The context of this picture for me was that it was my last morning in Mexico which was my first trip since being locked down during the pandemic. I had not been to an ocean beach in years and the entire sunrise was an experience of gratitude, appreciating the ability of being there and taking in the stillness of the morning. For my audience, I would want them to take away the same stillness and calmness of the sunrise and appreciate that sense of beauty, providing my audience with a sense of escapism with me. 

Similarly, I want to carry on the concept of TORE, specifically the T which represents thematic which is the most difficult for interpreters because the image should provoke thought. This image without context may not evoke a great sense of thinking for some of my audience because the background of the image is so personal to me (Beck et al. 2018).  But, I believe that the moral of the story can be received by the audience which is appreciating the beauty and feeling a sense of calmness, while also inspiring others to seek their own experiences and possibly share as well (Beck et al. 2018). This picture for me was a moment of self-actualization, connecting my passion for traveling and experiencing different cultures with nature and mindfulness. It was a moment shared with people I love and was of “highest happiness” (Beck et al. 2018).  The key point that I am conveying is that the audience may not be able to share the exact theme that I associate with the picture but they will be able to take away the main idea from the image and have a provoked sense of appreciation of the beauty.

Here is another picture that I love but at an Ontario beach but it provides the same feeling of calmness. 

Beck, L., Cable, T.T., & Knudson, D.M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage for a Better World. Sagamore Publishing.

Hooykaas, A. (2023). Unit 4: Nature Interpretation through Art and Planning for “All” Scenarios [Courselink Content]. University of Guelph. https://courselink.uoguelph.ca/d2l/le/content/791355/viewContent/3306929/View.

[fizzycherrycola]

PrUK, June 1815

Set after the Battle of Waterloo, this is my submission for @historical-hetalia-week​.

Warning: Blood, smoking, description of a battlefield.

Inspired by the phrase: “Buddies in Bad Times.”

Mars at Rest

Waterloo, Belgium; 18 June, 1815 

Cracking against flint, a match sparks and burns, breaking the deathly silence.   

Prussia brings the flame to his pipe, lighting the tobacco, watching it glow red before he inhales that woody, calming scent, letting it fill his bloodstream and permeate his mind. It doesn’t do much to dull the throbbing ache of his muscles, bruised and overtaxed, pricking in sour protest of every shift and gesture, but it quells the final itch of caution, a nagging leftover from the battle, dying out at last. Shutting his eyes, he exhales, long and slow, then turns to gaze upon the shattered countryside.

The field of victory is never a pretty sight.

Belgium’s rolling hills are riddled with bodies, military uniforms dotting the landscape in navy, crimson, and black. A few fires are smouldering here and there, dark smoke billowing off of charred grassland and wool fabric, torn flags rippling from the heat. Among the dead, like phantoms, riderless horses stand quiet, their heavy heads hanging low; sad statues lost without their masters. Dusk soaks the scene in a strange, muted haze, with clouds catching the sunset and blazing as they sink below the earth.

It’s a familiar view and Prussia idly wonders how many battles he has witnessed in his abnormally long life. Hundreds? Thousands? The uniforms and weapons may change, but in his memory, the conflicts all blend together in a sea of blood, a churning stew of grisly images stretching back to the Crusades. The shock and horror long ago morphed into tepid acceptance, better suited for survival, because when staring down a brigade of stampeding dragoons, there is no time for doubt, and the field of failure is a far worse sight than this.

Turning his back to the sullied terrain, Prussia puts his hand on a short, crumbling brick wall, barely more than a fence now, and hops, throwing his boots over the side to perch atop it. His tendons sting, a mild jolt of pain shooting up his wrist, but he ignores it; he rarely listens to his body, anyway.

“You look like shit,” Prussia tells his exhausted ally.

Barely upright, England is sitting on the ground, leaning against a broken cannon wheel that got stuck in the rubble. Coat draping his shoulders, he holds his bandaged side, red seeping through, and still manages the strength to glare up at Prussia, putting those impressive eyebrows to good use.

“And whose fault is that?” he grunts, voice dry and hoarse.

“My best guess would be France,” Prussia teases, popping the pipe between his teeth.

It certainly isn’t his own fault; Blücher had him awake and on horseback before dawn, in near-darkness, marching with fifty thousand armed men at a relentless pace. With a glowing pride behind his ribcage, he witnessed their discipline and how they shoved away exhaustion. They trudged past swollen rivers and muddy swamps to reach the battle in time and hurl themselves at The Emperor’s army; leaping into death’s jaws for duty, glory, and all the inspiring nonsense their superiors shouted about.

“I’ve been fighting since eleven, this morning,” England clips.

Prussia shrugs, a leisurely roll of his shoulders that cracks his joints. “You can’t pin this on me, not when I gallantly saved your ass and won the fight.”

“Gallantly?”

“Besides, I started marching before sunrise.”

England’s eyes go wide and, ever the storm cloud, he blusters: “Then what, in God’s name, took you so bloody long?! If you had arrived even 30 minutes later, Wellington’s entire force would’ve been routed and we’d have lost the damn continent a second time! Can you imagine what would’ve happened if--…. Agh....” He grimaces, eyes squeezing shut, and folds over his injury.

Sniffing, rolling the pipe stem over his tongue, Prussia gives his companion a moment before replying. “Calm down, old man. You’ll tear your stitches open.”

With an annoyed groan, England slumps against the wheel, head tilted back. He’s not in any shape to be shouting; a crumpled mess in the grass, sweat and dirt caking his freckled cheeks. The dark cherry smear is wide, probably from a sword, reaching around his bandaged belly from front to back in a half-circle, a nasty slice that would’ve quickly slain a mortal man. Leaning in, Prussia gestures at the wound. “Did you at least get him back for that?”

England cracks one eye open, an adamant emerald cutting through his dishevelled features. “’Course I did,” he croaks. “Just who do you take me for?”

Prussia cannot help the grin that splits across his face. Even in such a state, England isn’t one to go quietly, not ever, and certainly not against France. At Villinghausen, he took an artillery round to his right arm, and instead of lying down, he hastily shed his scabbard belt and made it into a tourniquet, snarling as he tied off his mangled limb. He fights death with every iota of his being, clawing at it with his bare fingers when he has to. In him is a tenacity, a brilliant refusal to comply with fate.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Prussia says, and England grunts, in the typical way that he does when accepting a compliment. “Do you know where you’re headed next?”

“Not at the moment. I’ll need to drag my bloody arse back to camp for a briefing.”

“If you’d like, I can bring you a cane.” England frowns, a deadpan look that tickles the corners of Prussia’s mouth. “Or maybe, I could take a cannon off its wheels, fashion a wheelbarrow, and cart you over there.”

“If you’re going to continue to mock me, you could at least offer me your pipe.”

Snorting a chuckle, Prussia obliges, sliding off the beaten wall, pebbles and dust shifting in his wake. He crouches down to his knees and passes his pipe, ignoring the rusty odour that drenches his companion, the pungent taste biting past the tobacco. England takes the piece, a languid thumb smearing blood on the bowl, and Prussia sits back, plopping onto the grass.

“We should get drinks again,” he mentions.

Lips curled over the stem, England sucks in a deep breath, then exhales. “Hm. Tempting.”

“Did you know that you get drunk faster when you’ve lost a lot of blood?”

“I do, unfortunately. Learned that in the Middle Ages. But I’m in no state for drinking tonight.”

Of course not. It won’t happen, not tonight and probably not tomorrow. Nothing less than total destruction will do; Wellington and Blücher will have them chasing after Napoleon Bonaparte like hounds on a hunt. It could be weeks before they can relax again, as they did after the last war ended.

“In Paris, then. When all this shit is over.”

England smirks. “Fine, but it’ll be on your coin.”

Amused, Prussia’s eyebrows fly up. “Oh ho! You're going to burn through my wallet? That’s the thanks I get for saving your army?”

“Think of it as restitution for arriving late.”

“Arschloch.”

“Twat.”

Prussia smiles, forgetting the world for a moment, until his back twinges and he has to flex again, twisting his lower spine with a crack and settling lazily, chin resting in his palm. He threads his free fingers in the blades of trampled grass, and if he concentrates, he can imagine it still thundering with horse hooves. He’ll write about this day, scrawl it into his journal and preserve it, violence and agonising victory. Another monumental event whisked away by time.

“I’m guessing this campaign will last a couple weeks,” he murmurs. “Maybe a month, at most.”

“Quite likely.”

“The Thief of Europe doesn’t have much time left.”

England squints. “Why do you sound disappointed at that?”

Prussia sighs, plucking a dry weed from the dirt. “He’s... different from other humans. People like him are only born once a century, and when he’s gone, that’ll be it. God, I wish I’d arrived earlier today, witnessed his genius strategies from start to finish.”

“You admire Napoleon Bonaparte?”

Prussia nods. “As a tactician, yeah, I do.”

England balks. “He ruined your army not ten years ago.”

Prussia tosses the weed aside, sees it land on a pile of smouldering fabric.

Those weeks were as startling as they were cruel; he watched, appalled, as his mighty military was obliterated in just 19 days by a damn Corsican. Cold hate knotted his stomach and he wished to cut the general down himself. But, when Bonaparte entered Berlin, he visited the tomb of Frederick the Great and instructed his marshals to remove their hats, saying, “If he were alive, we wouldn't be here today.” And the sight seized Prussia like a pair of iron tongs grabbing coal, immediately seeing the similarities between Old Fritz and this new ruler, igniting respect and melting his bitter anger.

What a loss it is that Bonaparte isn’t of Prussian lineage.

“Flawlessly,” Prussia declares, passion stirring in his chest. “Nearly every action he takes is flawless. How he rallies his troops, the speed of his attacks, the level of cunning he uses to out-manoeuvre his opponents...!” He releases his fists to the sky, shoulders high and back straight. “Bonaparte might be insane, but he wages war like he was born for it.”

Blinking, England’s mouth contorts in disgust, as if Prussia just blew his nose obnoxiously loud. When he gives no response, Prussia doesn’t slump, exactly, but his hands fall and disappointment needles at his heart. On second thought, it may be a little rude to brazenly praise the bastard who slapped the shit out of every army in Europe... including England’s, just an hour ago. “Ah, never mind.”

“You’re vile and you have a terrible taste in personal role models.” Although England speaks bluntly, the comment lacks true venom, sounding more like a report on peach farming than a judgement of character. He returns to the pipe, puffing fumes like a London chimney stack.

“I’ve got amazing taste,” Prussia boasts. “That includes my tobacco and maybe my halfway decent sense for allies, too.”

England coughs, hacking up a lung full of smoke before he frowns and looks away. The faint colour on his cheeks would be brighter if he hadn’t lost blood. Prussia snickers.

Perhaps he is vile, but war is an unstoppable force. It will be here, until the end of days, and it has never done Prussia any good to waste time ruminating over its monstrosities or wallowing in the shadow of defeat. After the punishing mistakes of Jena and Auerstedt, he studied, pouring over accounts of Bonaparte’s battles, reading until his eyes were bloodshot, and when asleep, he dreamt of battalion formations scribbled across a map. Every revelation was scratched into his journals, pages upon pages of tactical strategies interwoven with jealous praise, because damn it all, France didn’t deserve such a magnificent general.

Regardless, he resolved to find a use for his painful failure, for the eradication of his brave men, and, if this recent victory is anything to go by, he succeeded, climbing over the wall of the dead to return stronger tomorrow.

England shifts, eyes catching something and he slouches. “Christ,” he mutters.

“Huh?”

“Here they come, now. New orders.”

Turning, Prussia at first sees nothing amiss. A few soldiers on horseback are ghosting over the slumbering site, weaving between bodies, torches held high to light their way in the sluggish darkness. They may be hussars, searching for any injured souls to rush away for medical treatment, but it’s more likely that they are commanders, taking vague stock of their casualties to draw up reports.

Then he spots it, a lone rider is approaching them at a trot.

Tall on his mare, shako and red uniform unsullied, the soldier lumbers closer and comes to a halt. He gazes down at them; a pale torch casts flickering light over his stern, olive eyes.

“Netherlands,” Prussia greets, waving at the giant. “Good to see you’re alive.”

“Indeed,” Netherlands responds, a deep thrum in the evening air. Aside from his gaunt features, made worse by the wars, his face betrays little. His smiles are rarer than England’s, but for that matter, his scowls are just as uncommon. A stony and mild-mannered man; perhaps that’s why he found success in commercial business. “I’m here at Wellington’s request.”

England sighs. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“I’m tracking down each of us; we are all to meet at an inn,” Netherlands explains, gesturing with his torch. “It’s just down the hill, at the centre of the battlefield.”

Prussia frowns, a knot forming in his stomach. “Did you say you’re tracking people down?” He could help; pushing past the soreness in his frame is no issue. However, there are several thousand dead in the field with night falling and he has neither horse nor light.

“How many of us are still missing?” England asks.

“Only a few,” Netherlands says. “Most are on their way to the inn as we speak, but I’m still looking for Scotland and Hanover.”

Prussia gnaws his lip. “Fuck, I saw them.”

Netherlands straightens, his gaze snapping to Prussia. “Were they near a farmhouse?”

“Yeah,” Prussia pushes himself to stand, ignores his creaking bones, and points to one of several brick buildings in the distance. “Not the one on fire, but the other one, on the left.”

Those tiny spaces saw incredible chaos, a screaming whirlwind of bayonets and musket fire boxed into humble kitchens, spilling out of windows and stable doors. It was no surprise that when Prussia arrived, darting through a gap in the infantry line, he found Hanover broken. Decorated in dust and bullet holes, wounds weeping blood, he couldn’t speak above a wheeze. In the heat of battle, Prussia could only stuff him behind a heap of straw, tell him to keep quiet, and scour the arena for a medical officer. He found one only after his men took the building and directed the soldier to Hanover’s location.

Hopefully, he didn’t succumb to his injuries.

Prussia relays this to Netherlands and the Dutchman gives a firm nod.

“Thank you,” he says, turning his horse to the farmhouse. “I must continue searching. Once I’ve finished, I’ll join you at the inn.”

“Very well, then,” England murmurs.

With that, Netherlands departs, his mare thumping across churned soil and his torch flame receding into the blue dusk.

England hands Prussia the pipe and gingerly pulls his jacket on, his torn shirt and bruised skin taking shelter under red wool. “You saw Scotland, too?” he casually asks, averting his gaze.

“Yeah,” Prussia answers, tapping his pipe, dumping out the ashes and spent tobacco. “Don’t worry. He had a few scrapes, but he’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t worried,” England mutters. He glares at the buttons on his coat, wincing as he attempts to close them around his battered torso. Prussia busies himself by wiping a handkerchief over his piece, catching England’s subtle glances and the tension in his fingers. “How do you know he’ll manage?”

“Because when I asked him if he needed saving, he told me to ‘fuck off.’”

England’s grimace softens, his lips curling upward just slightly and Prussia can pretend he didn’t see that, because relationships between brothers can be complicated, sometimes. Stashing the pipe away in his haversack, he hefts the bag over his shoulders, its firm weight pressing down on his sore back. He huffs, stretching and shaking out his irritated limbs to wake them up. Then, he moves to help England stand.

“Absolutely not,” England snaps, gripping the cannon to pull himself up and steady his wobbly knees.

“You’re going to walk a whole kilometre like that?” Prussia snorts.

“Shut it.” Brow furrowed in concentration, England extends an arm for balance and delicately shuffles one foot forward. He’s stable for a moment, until he tries a second step and buckles, stumbling into Prussia, who catches him easily.

Prussia tuts. “Nah. It’ll be morning by the time you get down the hill, Herr Eyebrows. Come on, let’s go.” He swoops a hand under England’s arm, the one on his good side, and drags him into a walk assist.

“Oi!” England squawks as his arm is tugged around the back of Prussia’s neck. “Just wait a moment, you prick.”

Naturally, Prussia ignores his protests and they start hobbling towards the inn. England continues muttering half-hearted curses for a bit before settling into silence. It’s another minute or so until he leans on Prussia properly, and Prussia pulls his stubborn companion closer, guiding the awkward steps of their dirty boots through the fouled pasture. He can’t help thinking it’d be a lot nicer if he was carrying England out of a tavern instead.

A cool wind carries the scent of gunpowder and other burning things that overpower the rural air. Dim twilight transforms puddles of blood into ink and corpses into obscure, lumpy masses of shadow. Prussia directs their route through the quiet field, squinting in the dark at things that may be shakos or rocks, branches or muskets.

“Look at the state of it,” England grumbles. “I’ll kill the frog all over again for this mess.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind breaking military code for schnapps right now,” Prussia admits. And then, he has a thought, a twisting queasiness that’s probably nothing, but.... “Hey, are those drinks still on, in Paris?” Pupils flicking over Prussia’s face, England tilts his head and quirks a shaggy brow. Quickly, Prussia delivers a cocksure grin, switching to a more joking tone. “Did I scare you off with my war talk?”

A pause, then England exhales through his nose, turning so Prussia only sees his straw hair. “No, don't be ridiculous. I know what you meant.” His fingers curl around the shoulder strap of Prussia’s uniform and he glances back, face set in a haughty look, eyebrows up and lids low. “I’ll come. Just so long as you shut up about how much you love French generals.”

Prussia’s barking laugh fades to a sigh and his cheeks hurt from smiling. “All right, I can promise that.”

They go on, walking together through hell, burdens made milder in solidarity. Maybe Prussia is a hypocrite, he thinks, aweing at the genius of war, but also wanting it to be done, tiring of it and the stench of decay. How it drives splinters under his skin, bruises his friends and steals their respite, their freedom to while away time as they please.

Regardless, they will outlast The Emperor, his battles, and whatever comes next. They will earn their peace soon enough.

End / Fin

~~~

Author’s Notes

Waterloo is currently located in present-day Belgium. However, in 1815, this land was officially controlled by the United Kingdom of the Netherlands. Belgium would become independent in 1830.

Many historians disagree on what time the Battle of Waterloo began, with some sources saying the fighting started at 11:30. I had England say “eleven” as a rough estimate based on his own assumptions, like the direction of the sun.

Blücher was the Prussian commander during the battle. Wellington commanded the Anglo-Allied army.

“We’d have lost the damn continent a second time!” This is probably not true. England is exaggerating because he’s upset and his stab wound makes him feel vulnerable.

Villinghausen was a battle that took place in 1761 during the Seven Years’ War.

Arschloch = Asshole.

Although Prussia wishes he could’ve seen Napoleon’s tactics at Waterloo, he probably would’ve been disappointed, since Napoleon made several strategic errors in the battle.

Hussars are a light cavalry unit. Shakos are a type of military hat.

After losing to Napoleon in 1806, the Prussian army went through a massive overhaul. Many improvements were made and commanders were instructed to study Napoleon’s tactics for future wars.

At Waterloo, the Prussian and Anglo-Allied armies defeated the French, which was a devastating loss to Napoleon. It eventually led to his abdication and final surrender, just weeks later.

[waitimcomingtoo]

To the Bone

TRIGGER WARNING/DISCLAIMER: negative body image. Reader does NOT have an eating disorder but do not read if you’re easily triggered by things of that nature. I’ll have a fluffy story out soon for those who can’t read this one. And remember, you are beautiful exactly as you are. Love you!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist

With you being a singer and an actress, you rarely got to see your movie star boyfriend for more than a few weeks at a time. When Tom was off shooting for Cherry, you got a call asking you to model for Saint Laurent. You’d been selected to be an égérie, or muse for the highly esteemed fashion brand. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the times you’d flip through your mothers fashion magazines as a child, always talking a special interest in the glamorous handbags and shoes you saw in the Saint Laurent magazines. To be on the cover of their magazine, decked in their masterpieces inspired by yourself, was a dream come true. You twisted around your room, feeling that familiar childlike wonder seeping in. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the full length mirror you and Tom had in your bedroom and stopped. You took a step closer and gazed at your reflection, placing delicate fingertips on the cool glass of the mirror. Another familiar feeling sunk in.

The feeling of not being good enough. 

Saint Laurent was a huge brand. Millions of people would be looking at you on the cover. The thought of all those people and all the opinions they harbored made you feel uneasy. Would they like what they saw? Were you pretty enough to be a cover girl?

You traced your fingertips over your reflection until they landed on your tummy. You moved your hand from the mirror to your tummy and kept it there, turning to the side to get a better look.

“I could stand to be a little thinner.” You nodded your head and continued to stare at your body. You decided losing a little weight for the cover would be a good for everyone.

Tom was going to be away for three weeks, and your cover was a week after he returned. You found a diet online that claimed models followed and printed it out. You stuck it to your fridge and started following it that night.

The first week, you cut your meals down in size and cut out snacks completely.

The second week, you skipped meals here and there and told yourself you didn’t need them. You didn’t need the fatigue and constant hunger you felt either, but you told yourself it was worth it every time you stood up and felt dizzy.

The third week, what you did allow yourself to eat was rabbit food. Berries for breakfast, no lunch, salad for dinner. Your appearance had changed a little more than you expected, so you covered yourself in baggy clothes to hide the transformation. As you were examining your body in the mirror again, you heard the front door unlock.

“Tommy!” You ran to him from the bedroom and threw your arms around his neck. Tom embraced you immediately, and you felt his body tense up. His hands found your waist and slowly moved up to your ribs as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Woah.” He pulled away quickly and looked you up and down with a concerned look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You kept your voice steady. He noticed. Of course he noticed.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Tom looked up at you with accusation in his eyes.

“What do you mean, baby?” You played it off.

“Have you been eating?” Tom asked firmly, hands still on your waist.

“I…yeah.” You stuttered at his blunt question.

“How much?” He questioned. “And what?”

“What’s with all the questions? What are you, my doctor?” You laughed nervously and tried to leave his embrace but he wouldn’t let you.

“No, I’m your incredibly concerned boyfriend.” Tom said, reminding you it wasn’t time to joke.

“There’s nothing to be concerned about. You should be excited, actually. Saint Laurent has made me their muse. They designed a collection inspired by me and want me to model it on their cover. Isn’t that amazing?” You said proudly and Toms eyes softened. He swallowed thickly and looked you in the eyes with an emotion you’d never seen from him before.

“Is that why you did this?” He asked in a whisper.

“Did what?” You asked, still dodging his accusation.

“Whatever crazy diet you put yourself on.” He said finally.

“I’m not on any diet.” You said defensively. “I just lost a little weight.”

“Love, I have hugged you a million times; held you, cuddled you, woken up and fallen asleep with your body next to mine. What I just had in my arms, what I felt when I hugged you, that wasn’t you.” Tom shook his head sadly. “That’s not the body I hold in my sleep or the one I come home to at night. You’re skin and bones, darling. I don’t even recognize you. What happened?”

“Nothing.” You smiled, trying to appease him, but Toms face remained stoic.

“Take off your jumper. It’s huge on you, anyway.” Tom commanded.

“What? No, I’m cold.” You lied. It was the middle of summer and you had on sweatpants and an oversized sweater on.

“It’s boiling in here.” Tom pointed out. “Take it off.”

“Tom, no.” You said sternly.

“Why not? Because you don’t want me to see what I already know? You think baggy clothes and denial won’t make me see what you’ve done to yourself?” Tom shouted, eyes softened when he saw your face fall.

“Princess.” Tom said softly and tilted your chin for you to look at him. His gentleness almost brought you to tears. “I can’t say I understand why you’d do this, or why anyone would, but I can say I know how you feel. I’ve had issues with my body too. I never knew how insecure a person could feel until I went to the gym with the Avengers cast. I mean, have you seen Chris Hemsworth without his shirt on?” Tom asked and a small laugh escaped your lips. “There, now I got my pretty girl laughing again. What’s it gonna take to get you eating again? We can start small but I’m not sleeping until I see you put something substantial in your body. I need to know you’re going to be okay the next time I leave, or I’m never leaving again.”

“Then how are you gonna do your job?” You asked.

“Loving you is my job. That’s more important than any part in any movie.” Tom assured you.

“I just wanted to look good for the cover.” You admitted weakly. “I just wanted to be beautiful.”

“You were already beautiful, and you would be at any size. Numbers on a scale and the size of your waist do not equate to beauty.” Tom said assertively. “Come with me.” He took your hand and brought you to the bedroom, taking his place in front of the full length mirror. He stood behind you and pressed himself into your back.

“Tom, I’ve looked at myself in this mirror enough in the past few weeks. I don’t need to again.” You told him.

“But you’ve only seen yourself from your point of view. I want to show you what I see.” Tom told you as he moved your hair to the side to place a kiss on your neck.

“The first thing I noticed about you was your hair. You had it loose and it framed your face like the work of art that you are. I thought it was beautiful but it was covering your face and I wanted to see that to.” Tom recalled the day you’d met. “I pretended to cough so you’d look at me, and you did. That’s when I saw your eyes for the first time. Our eyes met and I got this funny feeling in my tummy like when you come home after a long time and your dog greets you at the door. That’s how you make me feel, like coming home.”

“I only looked at you because I hate the sound of coughing.” You laughed and Tom laughed too.

“But you still looked at me. And then you smiled. I forgot how to breath for like three days after that.” Tom laughed in your ear. “I nearly fell over from how weak my knees felt. Your smile could make the coldest, most evil old man bite his tongue. And when I heard your laugh, God I wanted to marry you right there. And I could’ve. And I just might.” Tom kissed your cheek this time and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Then there’s this body. This body that keeps me warm, the body that’s gonna carry my kids one day.” Tom put his hands on your tummy and looked at you in the reflection of the mirror. “I’ve loved every inch of you since the day we met. My eyes never have and never will see something more beautiful than you. I know I can tell you everyday that you’re gorgeous and take my breath away, but I also know that if you don’t think the same then my words mean nothing.”

“It’s hard to love myself sometimes when theres so many people watching me.” You whispered. Tom turned your around in his arms so you were facing him.

“I know, love. But I’m here to make it a little less hard.” Tom assured you. “I’m gonna make you a deal; I’m gonna make your favorite dinner and you’re gonna eat it.”

“I think I can manage, as long as we eat in the candlelight.” You smiled.

“You got it.” Tom kissed your forehead. “And I want you to sign my magazine once it comes out. I gotta have the autograph of the prettiest girl in the world.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona​ @sunrise-shawn​ @meghan-8520xx​ @writing-for-hours-on-end​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101​ @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @m19friend​ @justcallmehitgirl​

[thestylesindependent]

You could take Harry Styles' new promo for track Watermelon Sugar one of two ways. You could look at it and feel a little aggrieved at his shameless cavorting in the outside world, all touchy feely with a gang of beautiful people on a white sand beach. Then again, you could stop being such a grouch and take pleasure and immerse yourself in the vicarious joy of watching people doing pretty much everything that you would like to be doing right now but can't.

At least, that's what I took from the film, which was directed by Prettybird duo Bradley & Pablo. Dedicated to 'touching', Watermelon Sugar is an ode to the summer that we all deserved and crave. It's packed full of sun, sea and some of the most impeccable eating of watermelons you could possibly witness, which it turns out were all grown and harvested from Harry's own watermelon farm. Bradley & Pablo told LBB's Addison Capper about how they brought this film to life via an epic harvest of watermelons and one-day against-the-clock shoot.

LBB> When you first heard Watermelon Sugar, what was your definition of a "watermelon sugar high"? Bradley & Pablo> Honestly not sure we had one... maybe because we’re too naive. It just sounded nice. Luckily Molly [Hawkins, creative director], Bryan [Younce, commissioner] and Harry opened our eyes. 

LBB> When did you first begin working on this promo? And what were your initial thoughts and plans when it came in? Bradley & Pablo> We first started working on this song about a week before we shot it! We’d been trying to work with Harry on the album for a while - we had written two or three other ideas for other songs last summer by the time Watermelon Sugar came around. In the end the timing felt kind of poetic. It was the last project we shot before the lockdown and it really was the complete antithesis to the situation we find ourselves in now. It feels super meaningful now that this has been released during the pandemic because It speaks to what everybody is missing right now - physical human touch and connection.   LBB> It’s a joyful bit of film anyway but even more so because it’s full of all the things that everyone wants at the moment. Did you ever debate changing it? Or did it all suddenly seem even more perfect? Bradley & Pablo> We never debated changing it but we did start to get concerned that the record label wouldn’t release the video because they felt it was insensitive or tone deaf or something, but when we started talking about releasing it again, we had the idea of adding a tagline to the front of it like ‘in loving memory of touch’ or ‘dedicated to touching’ and it re-contextualises it in a way that feels perfect for the time. LBB> Aside from the dedication to touching, did the film change at all due to the pandemic? Bradley & Pablo> No it didn’t! It just came out a little later. LBB> I get vibes of like old school hip hop videos but with a Harry Styles vibe. I like it. Were they an inspiration at all? Where else did you look for inspiration? Bradley & Pablo> That wasn’t a conscious inspiration for us but that’s definitely a cool one to think about. We knew from talking to Harry and his creative director that they wanted to basically dedicate this song to girls and boys and sexual pleasure, it was about creating an atmosphere. We loved the idea and the spirit of it and we felt one of our main jobs was to portray this idea in a tasteful way.  There were two key references at the beginning of the project which Harry and Molly gave us. One was an old picture of Jack Nicholson eating a watermelon with this amazingly mischievous grin and the other was an image of Paul McCartney at a beach party in the ‘60s where he looks like he’s tripping on acid in the best way. Both of these really informed and encapsulated the spirit that we wanted to bring to this whole thing. We also looked at photographers like Stephen Meisel to inspire some of the more composed setups and Guy Bourdin playing with the playful, sexy innuendos that you find in some of his work. Other than that one of the biggest inspirations was actually just Harry’s own image that he and his creative director Molly have created around this album campaign. We love his progressive fashion sensibilities and Gucci campaigns and so we just wanted to make something that would fit into his world. He also has this effortlessness, he’s so magnetic and cool without trying so we wanted to make sure we created a scene where he could champion that. LBB> Harry does some pretty pristine watermelon biting. How did you coax those out of him? Bradley & Pablo> Sadly we can take no credit for that... Guess he just really knows how to eat watermelon. LBB> What was the production process like? Where did you shoot? Where in the world has such an abundance of perfect watermelons? And what was the mood like on set? Bradley & Pablo> The production process was fast! We shot in a location in Malibu. It was a private beach at this amazing house. Harry actually owns a watermelon farm in a secret location that we can’t disclose. So the day before the shoot we went with our whole crew, make-up artists, set decorators, focus pullers you name it! We all rolled up our sleeves, got stuck in and did the biggest harvest anyone in the USA has ever seen!  The mood on set was really good. Credit goes to the whole cast and Harry himself, who were all amazing to work with, they all had such amazing genuine warm energy and a big part of the success of this video is owed to them for being so much fun. We think you can really see that reflected in the video. Meanwhile we were actually inwardly freaking out a little because we only had one day, we had to shoot from sunrise to sunset (which is a very small window in January) and there is an even smaller window within that where the light is actually good enough to get that punchy graphic blue sky and beautiful looking skin, and shooting on a beach is HARD! The shoot was also quite a new, different kind of challenge for us because it was loosely structured - we were flexible with what we were shooting - there was no real story it was more about just creating an atmosphere. We also tend to usually shoot with lots of lighting and art direction but we didn’t really have much of anything so it was a different kind of test in directing for us.   LBB> From an aesthetic point of view, what were your main aims and inspirations with the grade, art direction and costume? Bradley & Pablo> We were definitely very influenced by the rich Gucci styling and the ‘60s era of the Paul McCartney image. The art direction and pallet started with the styling and grew out from there. We wanted to mix busy patterns/textiles with block colours like warm oranges, browns and the graphic blue skies to create this warm, hazy nostalgic aesthetic but with a modern contemporary edge that also came in part from the casting and some detailing in the wardrobe. LBB> How did you capture the vintage looking shots? Bradley & Pablo> We shot on 35 and 16 mm on an Arri SR3. That was really a core component that we would not compromise on. It was also just about keeping that side of things simple, hats off to Frank Mobilio [DOP] who, with a 16mm camera, a mirror and a reflector, managed to make such beautiful images. We also worked with our regular colourist Dave Hussey who always elevates things in his particular way. LBB> What were the trickiest components and how did you overcome them? Bradley & Pablo> TIME! As we said we were working against the sun. As we often do now on shoots, we split up and direct two separate units simultaneously. It's nice to be able to do everything together but we are in a place now where we can trust the other as they go off more autonomously which massively helps us to be more ambitious with a shot list. Also, learning how to keep those slices of watermelon looking fresh. The best solution seems to be to eat it and cut more slices.    LBB> Any parting thoughts?  Bradley & Pablo> Bring back seeded watermelons! 

[arcadia-trash]

Rarepair Week: Jantatious Day 6

Theme: Moonlight/Daylight @toa-rarepair-week

Summary: Dictatious is forced into public by his brother Blinky, and reluctantly ends up at the science museum to volunteer as a judge for the annual school science fair; one of the other judges surprises him and makes the trip worth it.

"Oh yes, let me just view the science experiments of pubescent charlatans. I’m sure I’ll enjoy watching these genius projects unfold before my eyes.”

Blinkous tugged Dictatious away from the curb where he almost tripped off. The streets were quiet before sunrise, only the odd mroning shift worker here or there going about to open businesses for the day.   

“Complaining about your blindness will not get you out of socializing this time, brother. Ms. Domzalski may enjoy your company, but it’s not fitting for you to hide away from the human society which has agreed to shelter you.”

Dictatious grumbled something catty under his breath, to which Blinkous added, “Which has sheltered you despite your grave crimes committed against their existence. Now stop pouting, we’re almost there.”

“Fine! But don’t expect me to smile through this! You know I loathe teaching...”

The opening of a large metal door groaned a bit as they walked onto a smooth, cold surface that clacked under their stone feet. Immediately they were greeted by a woman, whom Dictatious presumed to be the teacher Ms. Janeth.

“Ah, you’re here earlier than I expected.” she greeted them politely. The smell of dark roast Arabian coffee hit both their noses. Dictatious’s own stomach grumbled, and he recalled how he barely had time to eat due to his refusal to get ready upon awakening. 

“Have fun, brother.” Blinky teased after a quick exchange with Ms. Janeth. Immediately a soft hand held on his arm as she directed him. 

“I suppose I should show you where the judges can sit; after that we can debrief over the rules, and...oh! I’m so sorry, I should have asked first.” Ms. Janeth removed that soft hand of hers and turned to face him. “Do you prefer being led, or would you rather walk on your own? I apologize for assuming.”

Dictatious fumbled over his words for a brief moment. No one had ever bothered to ask him about whether or not he needed help with anything. Either he wanted it and it was denied, or someone strung him along when he wished to be left alone.

In that moment, Dictatious found Ms. Janeth’s hand more inviting than bumping into a wall of a place he did not know.

“Well...perhaps I shall humor you, for now anyway.” He responded with a grin, holding out an arm for his new friend to lock with. Ms. Janeth did so with amusement. 

“You’re much more gentlemanly than your brother let on.” she said with a grin of her own. She lead him to the judges table. “Here is where you’ll be sitting. You don’t have to check on the experiments if you don’t wish to, they’re the same every year anyway.” 

Dictatious snorted. “What a waste of a scholar’s talents! What’s the point then?”

Ms. Janeth sighed, now taking him by the museum center where the space globe display sat. “Oh...not much, if I must be honest. The kids are required to do something basic for credit, hardly any of them are inspired...”

Dictatious tsked and took a spare hand to pat her hand with it. “Shame! Why, I remember in my youth when I tried to impress our parents with a magical experiment of my own.”

“Oh? I didn’t think trolls had their own sciences.”

“Not like the human sciences, at least.” Dictatious began. “I was a stubborn lad at the time, I hated not being able to play in the forest all day; there were patches of sunlight you see, and Mother forbade us from being there save for the night.”

Ms. Janeth sipped her coffee, intrigued. “So you tried to find a way to survive sunlight?”

“Er, well, ‘try’ is the word of importance here.” Dictatious admitted. “I thought, if the moonlight is a reflection of the Sun’s light, yet we could survive in it, why not try to look like the moon?”

“To reflect it like the moon.” Ms. Janeth finished. Dictatious nervously chuckled. 

“Yes. I did so by covering myself in my father’s expensive pearlescent powder. It took weeks for the sunstain to fully heal.”

His ears flicked in surprise at Ms. Janeth’s laugh. It was was cheery, not mocking. 

“At least it was more creative than the lazy attempts I see year after year. Say,” Ms. Janeth said, her cup now empty. “The kids won’t be here for another hour at least. Why don’t you follow me somewhere?”

“Do I have a choice?” Dictatious grumbled as he felt himself being pulled anyway. At least, Ms. Janeth did so out of excitement, rather than pity. Another pair of doors opened and closed, and they entered another wing. Ms. Janeth then stopped him, and laid a hand over one of his wrists. 

“I know you can’t enjoy the Sun. But you can feel the exhibit, right?” She asked, placing a hand over a 3-D model of the Sun. Dictatious’s brow was furrowed until the other hands began to touch it as well. His eyes widened. 

“This...this is the Sun?”

“The most accurate model yet.” Ms. Janeth said with a proud smile. “Our scientists have had images of the Sun for decades now. We even watch solar flares occur in real time.”

Dictatious chuffed quietly, now immersed in a childhood dream he never knew he still clung too. “My my...well what do you know, it is the Sun.”

Ms. Janeth watched carefully. His face did not fall, though it held a bittersweet wonder she understood all too well. 

“Is it as wonderful as you hoped?”

Dictatious did not answer directly. He instead turned to the woman and covered his growing attachment with a smirk. “How about this? It’s only fair I repay your kindness. I may not have my sight, but I still know how to view the Moon in all its glory.”

It was Ms. Janeth’s turn to widen her eyes in surprise. “Oh! Mr. Galadrigal, you don’t have to. I was merely--”

“I insist, on my honor.” Dictatious said as he held her hand gently. That soft, strong hand. Ms. Janeth blushed, failing to hide a giggle.

“Well, if it’s your honor on the line, then how can I say no? A walk in moonlight sounds wonderful.”

[nev3rfound]

a chance to see you once more : s.r

brief summary: during his time with tony to retrieve the tesseract, steve uses his time wisely, hoping to see you one last time 

word count: 1.7k requested: nope, an idea I thought of earlier and felt so cute i couldn’t resist! kinda inspired by the piece i wrote called ‘back before us’  warnings: idk, some spoilers? 

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - thank you to everyone who helped regarding the wattpad situation, you’re all amazing)

* masterlistin’

* commissions

** permanent taglist **

“So, we all know the plan?” Tony looks around at everyone, seeing nods circling as they all look up, watching their faces being covered as the light absorbs them.

With a blink, Steve looks around. He knew this place, he knew where he was.

New York, 2012. Attack of the city. 

“You know what to do.” Tony turns to Steve as Scott shrinks down to size, going with Tony to retrieve the tesseract whilst Steve would get the sceptre. 

“Easier said than done.” He mutters under his breath but complies knowing it’s what they have to do. 

 *

Standing still, holding the sceptre Steve stares down at his former self unconscious. He releases a half breath, a sense of relief filling his system knowing they’ve done their part. “I got it, Cap,” Tony speaks through the comms. “all good on your end?”

Walking off, Steve smiles to himself. “All good.” He announces as he nears the lift of the building.

As he waits for it, his eyes wander outside toward the city. Well, what was left of the city after the attack. “You ready to go back?” Tony questions, snapping Steve out of his thoughts.

Opening his mouth to respond, his eyes lock on a distant park. He stutters as the lift arrives, his eyes refusing to pass the view outside. “I’ll be twenty minutes.” He mutters to Tony as he leaves the building, stealing a bike and driving straight through everything. 

The closer he gets, all he can think about is the stories he heard.

“It’s kinda hidden away. Then again, what business did Captain America have in that part of town?” You chuckled to him, watching his smile grow as you were in bed, watching the sunrise. 

“Tell me about it,” He asked quietly, watching your eyes still remain heavy as you were in his arms. 

Shuffling, you turned to face him with a sleepy smile. “There was this small lake, well, not even a lake. I guess it was more of a pond?” You giggle, trying to recall the location you spent hours in. “I found a little area, round the other side of the pond. There was a mound of rocks and I could curl up and read in peace.” 

Steve could see you weren’t present, your mind thinking back to that place you often sought comfort. 

“What happened to it?” He questions, hearing a small sigh leaving your lips.

“It got destroyed in one of the many attacks New York faced.” You stated to him, glancing up with a sad smile on your face. “But I moved on, I think I found a better comfort spot.” You smile up to him, watching as he leans in and kisses you softly. 

Discarding the bike, Steve let’s out a sigh as he pushes the gates open. The large rustic gates with intricate designs moulded to the iron, just as you had described it.

Walking through the area, Steve felt like a ghost wandering into your past. It was the time he had never heard of your name, knew how to love again or be with somebody like you. He wasn’t ready for you then, hell, if you met you would never have been in this situation to begin with. 

“I told you, I’m doing just fine.” His ears perk up at the sound of light laughter from across the small pond.

His eyes follow the ripples from the fish, passing the lilypads to a pile of rocks. 

Ignoring the intense beating of his chest, he forces his eyes to rise. As they do, he feels close to collapsing. 

There you are, Y/n Y/l/n in the flesh once more. 

You’re lying back on the rocks, one leg on top of the other as your hair is spread out as one finger plays with it absentmindedly. Steve can see the book on the grass beside you whilst you talk on the phone, staring up into the trees.

Steve could understand now why you sought comfort in such a place. It didn’t feel like it was in the city, it was a sanctuary. He couldn’t hear the sound of sirens or screams that emitted in the depths of the city. In this place, all that could be heard was your voice, the angelic voice he longed to hear again. 

“I’m not close to it all. I guess I’m hidden away?” You think aloud, not aware of another presence in the park with you. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as your hand stretches out to reach your book, Steve’s eyes catching a glimpse of the ring on your finger. “I think he’s alright, I haven’t heard from him yet. Said he was in DC last time he checked in.” 

You were so oblivious then, and Steve felt his heart grow heavy. 

What you didn’t know was so painful, a side of your life Steve never witnessed but listened to you relive it on the anniversary of Thomas’ death. 

He didn’t deserve it, from what Steve learnt, Thomas was a caring man. He was your Peggy, your first love that you’ll never forget. You were sat there, thinking he was going to come home the following day, only to be greeted by three policemen instead with an apology.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Steve turns to walk away. He didn’t intend on coming to speak to you. In fact, he didn’t have any form of plan. All he knew is he needed to see you, see that innocent, light hearted woman he fell in love with. 

“Hey, you going to some costume party?” You call out as Steve turns around to face you. “Sorry! I thought you were someone else.” You apologise, watching as Steve clears his throat and walks over.

“It’s okay, I do look like I’m heading to one.” He jokes uneasily, not expecting any of his as you smile up at him. 

Normally he would’ve held you in his arms or would rest his hand in yours. But this version of you doesn’t know Steve yet, he’s a stranger in your eyes but his lost love in his. 

“I’m Y/n, and you need no formalities Mr America, Sir.” You mock salute him, chuckling to yourself as Steve cracks a smile to ease the heartache. “What brings you ‘round here?” You shuffle on the rocks, patting the spot beside you.

Cautiously, Steve takes the spot next to you. A gentle breeze rises through the trees, wafting your perfume past him. The scent of his pillows after you went to train, the perfume that was woven into most of his shirts and jumpers that you often stole. He missed having that so close and not faded over time. 

“A friend told me about this place.” He tells you, still struggling to maintain eye contact. “She said it was a comfortable spot.” He recites the words you told him, not noticing a small smile playing on your lips.

“Well, she certainly is right about that.” You respond. “No one ever comes here. I’m surprised anyone else knows about it.” You state with a questionable tone, watching as Steve glances up to see your brows furrowed together in confusion. “Either way, it was nice meeting you Mr America, I got a class to get to.” You rise to your feet, bending down and grabbing your bag before walking away, thinking nothing of the interaction. 

Steve’s eyes follow as you walk out of sight, passing through the gates and disappearing once more. 

He doesn’t even notice Tony standing there, watching him wipe his eyes before standing up. 

“So this is why you came here?” Tony speaks up as Steve sighs deeply, nodding in response.

“I had to see her,” Steve tells Tony quietly, looking down to see a book having slipped out of your bag. He picks the book up, noticing how worn the cover is, that this is one of your many well-loved books. “who knows if I ever will again.” 

“Don’t say that,” Tony says sternly, watching Steve force his heavy head back up to see Tony standing closer. “we don’t know what will happen, but we can only try, Steve.” 

“I just, I thought seeing her would make it easier.” Steve mutters, unable to wipe the image of you in Wakanda from his mind. 

He watched his best friend mutter his name before collapsing to the ground, turning to a pile of dust. 

Panic had filled his system as he looked out to the field, seeing you still fighting with all your might. “Y/n!” He yelled to you, running your way.

You didn’t stand a chance once he called for you. It was the first time you took your eyes off of the field, and Steve watched as the spear impaled your stomach. 

For once, he wasn’t fast enough. He watched tears fill your eyes as you started to disappear, turn to dust before his very eyes. “No!” He screamed as he collapsed to the ground, the only thing left is a bloody spear. “NO.” 

“But she’s gone.” Steve forces his mind back to the conversation, not wanting to think about the tears that filled your eyes or the evident fear he could see as you watched him run toward you. “And I’ll never get her back.” 

Looking down, Steve holds your book close to his chest. 

He opens it up, noticing a page still cornered and a section highlighted. 

“I’ll get the others, okay?” Tony announces to Steve, watching him being absorbed back into your past. 

Sitting down on the rock you were lying across minutes ago, his eyes read over the paragraph.

Those we love are often just out of grasp. We cry, we scream and mourn them. I’ve witnessed countless lovers lose one another, and it’s never an easier experience to endure. I’ll never forget the day he walked in, trying to keep his head held high until I asked him about the time they met. He broke down crying, sobbed for an hour as he mumbled about their first day of school. She was his everything, and life is cruel, but love makes it worthwhile. But sometimes, one outweighs the other, leaving us in a state of remorse for those we lost. 

Closing the book, Steve feels tears falling freely down his cheeks. “I’ll bring you home, Y/n.” He whispers to himself as he looks up to the sky, watching leaves slowly descend into the pond. “I promise.” 

 permanent taglist :

@psychicforest 🌙 @lourightm 🌙 @mywinterwolf  🌙 @perellith-chronicles

🌙  @supermoonchildbroski​ 🌙  @xrosegoldwolfx

[caradickson]

Evaluation

Who Are You

For the Who Are You project we were tasked with producing a series of three images in a triptych display, consisting of one location, one self portrait and one image of an object. All images were to flow together and have continuity throughout to tell a story about who are you.

In the planning for this project I found myself struggling to decide what particular part of my life and personality I wanted to explore and show. I write and perform music and that’s a massive part of my life as Cara Rose; I also have a small jewellery venture named She Sells Shells, earrings made from shells I collect from the beaches near where I live; and I also have my love and interest in photography. There were various paths I could go down for this project, which got me thinking for my self portrait of having multiple me’s in a double exposure or multiple arms in the image, to portray the various creative interests I enjoy.

I also knew I wanted my series to have a theme of yellow as it is my favourite colour. To me, it represents warmth, light and positivity. 

Self-Portrait 

I had the idea to use a torch with an orange filter that I have, to paint different areas of my body in the image using a long shutter speed. I hung up a large piece of black fabric against my living room wall and used that as my studio space. I set up the shot and had the camera on a 10 second timer and a shutter speed of 15 seconds. I used my mum as my assistant and got her to hold an off camera flash to light up my face in the photograph. It took many attempts to get the shot that I wanted as in the beginning it was difficult to nail the painting of the arms and hands and get the positions right.  

I am very happy with the result of my self portrait. I feel like it says visually what I feel. There are many loves in my life and no one of those define me. 

Once shooting, the idea unfolded of me painting myself to represent the sun, that connection to my love for warmth and yellow. The image also reminds me of a star or of fire, with the warm tones. 

Location

I live in a village called Inverkip and our house is a 10 minute walk from the local beach, where I have spent most days during the lockdown period of this year. There is something healing and refreshing about nature, but particularly the sea. I chose to use my local beach as my location for this project. It became part of my routine and life, when we were confined to our homes and only being able to leave once a day for fresh air and exercise. The sunsets and sunrises over the landscape are just beautiful and bring gorgeous yellow and pink tones across the sky. I knew I wanted to capture the beautiful evening golden glow of the sky and the water in the evening.

For this project I went out to shoot my location shot first. It was a clear, bright day and I knew the sun would be on show for the sunset. I got some lovely images that I was happy with and put them in my initial triptych.

Once I had my self portrait and object image, on reflection and discussion with my lecturer, I decided to go back to the beach at sunset and reshoot my location shot, but just as the sun was over the horizon and experiment with longer exposures to capture a more etherial image to flow with my self portrait. 

Object

This year has brought many challenges and everything we were all able to do in normal every day life was taken away. I found it difficult to keep myself moving creatively. I was going on my daily walks to my local beach and was finding some beautiful shells and decided I wanted to collect them and make something of them. From there I started a little jewellery venture of making them into earrings. Finding a new creative project during this time was so important for my mental health and wellbeing so I chose to use the shells as my object image. I lay them out in a circle, facing outwards, mirroring my self portrait shot. I used a blue sheet to lay them on to link it to the sea and my location image. I used one LED panel and one torch with an orange filter over it, located to the left of my scene. I reshot my object image because I wasn’t satisfied with what I produced from the first shoot. I chose to use less shells in my scene and arrange them slightly different and change the lighting from the first time.   

Inspiration

In the planning stage of the project I was looking to other artists self-portrait work for inspiration. The first artists work that caught my eye because of the beautiful haunting nature, was Francesca Woodman. I loved her use of long exposures to capture ghostly images that gave you insight into her, what seemed to be, a  troubled mind. I also think the way she choice to place herself in the images, where she composed herself was interesting. However, all of Francesca Woodman’s work is in black and white and I knew I wanted my series to hold colour and warmth. I looked to Cindy Sherman’s work, which as you can imagine caught my eye because of the colour and the drama. I wanted to try combine the two to create my own images; take the movement and long exposures from Woodman’s work and combine it with colour like in Sherman’s work to produce my own work. 

In conclusion, I really enjoyed this project and find that it has been my favourite from our first term. I am happy with the images I have produced and feel like they flow together well to tell you about me as an individual. My favourite part of the project was creating my self portrait and feeling that excitement when you create a shot that you really love and that fits your vision, or even, turns out better than you had imagined. I found the process interesting as it really made you think about who are you as a person and what you want to say about yourself. I was actually unaware of what a triptych was until this project, which was refreshing to find a new way of displaying work that can change the way you view it. I look forward to creating more work using the triptych. 

[oopssasha]

Dear Sasha,

I know you said you felt dumb for typing out all the plot bunny from that playlist. But you have to know that you made my days for weeks. Honestly, I wasn’t planning on luring you onto the shipping train. You got there all on your own without even realizing it and it’s both hilarious and so seriously incredibly adorably you. I have no clue how to put the amount of affection I have for you into letters.

I love how you couldn’t help yourself and had to ask how the Larry Stylinson thing came to be. Just remember this before you read any further: Curiosity killed the cat. I hope you subscribe to the idea that satisfaction brought it back, otherwise this is going to leave you dead. You asked about it the last time we talked. So here’s my thoughts on what could have happened if the hypothesis that HS and LT were/are in an actual relationship is true. Keep in mind that I have no clue what actually happened. I’m just a song nerd, investing way too much in musical inspirations.

First of all, let me just get this out of the way. I love Taylor Swift as an incredible songwriter that she is and she was the one who got me to notice 1D because she was dating Harry Styles that one time. Her song, ‘Style’ screamed PR stunt to me like nothing else. Actually, her whole 1989 album felt like a middle finger to incompetent PR managers everywhere. ‘Blank Space’ was the epitome of “I can manage my public persona better than you ever could.” ‘New Romantics’ was a love letter to fans filled with irony about high profile public life. How it sucks and makes everything possible at the same time.

Oh my god. I’m sorry I went off the rail. I just love her and her music. Please forgive my ramblings. Again.

Anyway, back to Larry Stylinson. Taylor mentioned how ‘Out of the Woods’ was inspired by a relationship she was in. And the biggest feeling in that whole relationship was anxiety. Funnily enough, ‘Out of the Woods’ makes the most sense to me if Taylor was in a PR relationship with HS, being fully aware that HS and LT were together, and wrote the whole song from imagining LT’s perspective. Taylor put herself in somebody else’s shoes in a song all the time. The most sincerely heartbreaking one to date for me is ‘Ronan’ and I cannot tell you how hard I cried for that song. ‘You were my best four years,’ got me bawling my eyes out. Every. Single. Time.

Here’s my line by line lyrics interpretation for ‘Out of the Woods’ on the assumption that Taylor wrote it from LT’s perspective.

>Looking at it now, it all seems so simple.

[HS was in a PR relationship to stop the gay rumors and hype up 1D world tour. Taylor was in it to turn her image into ‘good girl gone bad’ without having to go full on Miley Cyrus’s ‘Wrecking Ball’ and hype up her own world tour. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Simple but effective.]

>We were lying on your couch. I remember.

[LT once said, ‘Nobody knows where we live’ but the public narrative at the time said HS and LT no longer lived together. Hence, your couch, not ours.]

>You took a Polaroid of us, then discovered the rest of the world was black and white.

[Introducing artsy black and white Polaroid aesthetic to set the stage.]

>But we were in screaming color

[Obvious rainbow reference became painfully obvious.]

>And I remember thinking…

[The following repetitive chorus is so claustrophobic. It plays out as if it was a constant cloud hanging over LT’s head at all times. Like, will people leave us alone now that they no longer think we’re together? Are highly publicized heterosexual relationships enough to keep the scrutiny away? Can we just be together since we’re sworn to the secrecy now? We’re okay, right? We have to be. But are we really?]

>>>

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

In the clear yet? Good

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

In the clear yet? Good

Are we out of the woods?

>>>

>Looking at it now, last December we were built to fall apart then fall back together.

[Seeing each other in a PR relationship with someone else hurt further than just simple jealousy. It’s also a reminder that their relationship is not meant to exist, let alone to last.]

>>>

Your necklace hanging from my neck

The night we couldn't quite forget

When we decided (we decided)

To move the furniture so we could dance

Baby, like we stood a chance

Two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying

>>>

[This is where either my imagination ran away with me or Taylor is an actual Queen of Reference. I think it make sense that two paper airplanes here are a combination of a retrospective reference to HS’s necklace and an acknowledgment of LT’s paper airplane tattoo. In ‘Style’ MV at 00:13, HS’s paper airplane necklace, one Taylor wore publicly before, shows up. At her lucky number of seconds, Taylor is holding it like she’s praying, implying her best wishes for the relationship that the paper airplane represented. Throughout the music video, all the broken mirrors and jaded reflections alluded to a recognition of a kindred spirit. Media portrayals of their identities are so distorted to the point where the relationship people see is just a theatrical show for entertainment. I mean, ‘Style’ is almost 4 minutes long and, just 40 seconds in, the lyrics transition to ‘Fade into view’. If this doesn’t scream cinematic, I don’t know what else does. When Taylor flippantly said she could’ve named ‘Style’ as ‘I’m not even sorry’ and called it a day, I think she meant how she twisted the narrative in her favor and the media bought into it so much so that they’re chasing their own tails. Which is a reference I just made to ‘I Know Places’. What can I say? I’m a slave to my queen.]

>And I remember thinkin'

[Then the chorus repeats here. So I’m not going to repeat the interpretation.]

>Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?

>Twenty stitches in the hospital room

>When you started cryin', baby, I did, too

[If your loved one got hurt when they’re away on a job, would you cry when you heard the news? Especially when there’s nothing you could do to help? Then consider this. If Taylor was there to witness the conversation between two heartbroken boys, wouldn’t she decide right then and there to protect them against the world? She talked about the incident once before and how she kept its details on the downlow by looking at people involved dead in the eyes and straight up asking for decency. That’s such a mama bear thing to do, if you ask me.]

>But when the sun came up, I was lookin' at you

[The sunrise usually represents hope. I don’t see why this would be any different. Isn’t nice to know that there’s one more person in your corner?]

>Remember when we couldn't take the heat

>I walked out and said, "I'm settin' you free"

>But the monsters turned out to be just trees.

>And when the sun came up, you were lookin' at me

[This is the biggest reach ever. But I think this is when things had gotten so bad for HS and LT. That if they were together, this was probably their first potential breakup. But then HS got his ship tattoo. As a reminder that no matter where he is, he’s homeward bound. And then LT proceeded to get the compass pointing toward home tattooed on his arm. Taylor was there with HS because she’s a character in the PR narrative, just like a tree in the woods. For her, the show must go on. But she’s not a monster so as soon as the PR stunt was done, she booked it out of there. Her ‘I Know Places’ is almost a promise to not out HS & LT even if their PR relationship went down the drain in public. 1D just broke into North America which was sadly rather homophobic half the time, and, well, “Loose lips sink ships all the damn time. Not this time.”]

I need to go to sleep. I can’t believe I just wrote an essay about one hypothetical angle of a relationship that isn’t from a lit class required reading. If you’re dumb, I’m dumber. It’s 4 AM here and I have work in the morning.

Love you, but don’t call me tonight. I need to catch more zzzZzz.

Delaney

[rome-writes]

Daily Routines in The New Normal Setting as a College Student Living with Their Parent

Cover Image by Pixelbay via: https://www.pexels.com/ On March 10, 2020, I said goodbye to my girlfriend and that I would see her next week after. Little did I know that was our last meeting for the year. It was possibly someone's last goodbye to loved ones and friends as chaos and tragedy would soon creep into the country for other people.

Amidst the chaos, we all had to try and get on with our lives, even if it isn't the most efficient way. I had to go home and live with my mom in the meantime. I made a daily routine for myself as life would continue even if I was still on a slump during the pandemic.

I'll be sharing to all of you what my daily routine has been during this new normal, which I hope gives you an inspiration to make your own routine too.

MORNING

I hated mornings and waking up early as I was always exhausted from my night classes back then. Now that I'm home again, I had to wake up early to do my house chores. I hated it at first, but along the way, I found that it was tranquil and peaceful here in the morning, unlike the never-ending noise in Manila. It was relaxing to get up, feel the cold morning breeze, and see the sunrise from the cold blue atmosphere into a bright one.

Watering Plants  Everyone took up a hobby this year. I joined the club of so-called plantito's and plantita's, wherein people started collecting plants. I've always been intimidated by plants as I can never grow one during my high school gardening days. To my awe, I did keep some plants alive while killing a few, but the important thing here is that my plants are now also growing and blooming. It's a nice routine to wake up early and observe your plants, seeing their growth progress, and watering them. Plants give you a sense of responsibility for maintaining them, and they are just that nice to look at and display in your home.

Preparing Coffee for Breakfast  When I was at my dorm back then, I didn't have the time to eat breakfast and just go for cheap iced coffee and instant noodles. Now I'm home, I can finally prepare something healthy for myself. The one thing that I consistently prepare in our breakfast is coffee. This time, I made sure to buy some quality coffee that tastes good and would fuel us for the busy morning to follow.

Setting Up My Mom's Online Class  My mother has been teaching for around 30 years, so it's no secret that she is having a hard time with the online class set up. So, it has been a daily routine of mine that I would set up all the things that she needs after breakfast. I'd always be around the corner if she needs assistance or something is going wrong with her class.

Journaling  I'm an old soul, and I like to keep in touch with my emotion and feelings. The only way I could write about them is through pen and paper. I may have a blog, but my journal is the only one that knows my deepest desires and thoughts. Journaling has been an outlet for me to keep my sanity and emotions in check. I've always loved the feeling of just writing and not having to worry if it's right or wrong. It's nice to journal peacefully and calmly in the morning too.

AFTERNOON

My classes usually start late in the morning or in the afternoon; this is when I focus mostly on my academics and go to my classes. Honestly, it's hard to stay up in the afternoon as the weather is scorching hot, and you feel sleepy after lunch. I made this routine to keep myself motivated and productive.

Setting Up and Preparing for Class  Everyone has difficulty finding the right learning environment for them with many factors to consider. The only place I have available at home is my room as my mother is out in the living room with her classes on. This would require me to set up my foldable table as a desk, along with other study essentials. I would do this every day for my classes, which would keep me motivated to study and listen to my classes.

Checking Emails, Activities, and Tasks  After my classes, I would use it to look at what I need to do. This includes my org works, papers, and other activities. Usually, this is when I read my readings and study for a paper or activity that I have to do. I make sure that I don't waste this time to have a good sleep in the evening.

Merienda A Filipino thing where you have a snack in the afternoon. I use this as a break time for me to get a break out of my studies. I usually like to eat a sandwich or instant noodles in the afternoon. At times I would have coffee if I'm really having a hard time with my studies, but I usually avoid it so that I don't have a hard time sleeping in the evening.

EVENING

The end of a day also means stopping on anything academically related, unless I have an evening class going. I usually spend the evening catching up with my mother during dinner, even if we are just under one roof. The evening is meant for us to rest, so all my relaxing routine is in the evening.

Dinner  The time where I get out of my room and converse with my mom on anything under the sun, the news, or something related to her work. This is also where my mom and I spend the most time preparing meals as we had a deal wherein we must learn to cook new dishes this year. The only thing that isn't fun in the evening is when all is done, the dishes have to be washed.

Blogging  Besides my journal, I like to share some of my personal thoughts and stories online. The only safe outlet that I can share this is through Tumblr, as Facebook and Twitter are mainstream social media outlets filled with many people. Tumblr has been a safe haven for me since high school and till now. Sometimes we just want to share our stories or be heard without having people comment or say something about our views. Tumblr community has been a safe space for artists, the LGBT community, and many more people. This is the only place where I know I can be me without having people judge me all the time.

Entertainment  This is the last thing I do for the evening where I just chill and watch a show, movie, or play video games. After all, we need a mental rest from all that's been going on around us. I acknowledge my privilege from the rest of the world, and I do my part to help out. At the end of the day, we need to look after ourselves and do something that gives us joy or rest. This is how I give myself a break as I am a fan of movies and series. It's nice to escape reality for a while for some of us who can.

I'll be real here, everything that I have said or listed comes from a place of privilege. Not everyone can follow or do what I have been doing every day. The fact is that what we are facing is not normal and shouldn't be called new normal.

What I have shared is how my life has been going through and what I did to cope up like the rest of the world. Maybe you can follow or do some of the things I have been doing, or not at all, as you've got a lot on your plate.

We all have to do what we need to do to survive and remain sane in this pandemic. I hope that the routine I have shared inspires you to get moving and be productive in your own way.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Do I know you? ~ An interview with Tarja

What constitutes a perfect morning for you?

If I have been able to sleep more than seven hours, that’s a good morning for me. A double espresso with a big glass of water and the view from my own bedroom window and terrace make it perfect.

Growing up, did you always want to be a musician? Was there a time where you thought about doing something completely different?

I definitely always wanted to become a professional musician and make a living out of it.

You found a new home in Spain some years back. How does the lifestyle in Marbella differ from Finland?

The climate, being so very different from Finland, helps me to enjoy the outdoors the year around. I go out for running in the mountains or near the sea many times a week. The sun also fills me with its energy in the mornings. I am not as well known a person here as I am in Finland, so I can freely breathe the air and live my life without people noticing my presence. Even though it’s a Spanish city, Marbella is having a very strong international feel to it. People near me here are all coming from different cultures and backgrounds. That is making life colourful and exciting every day.

What band or artist best represents Finnishness and why?

This question can be interpreted in many ways. If I think of ‘the’ Finnish artist, immediately Kari Tapio comes to my mind, singing his song Olen suomalainen, but that would mean for Finnish audience only. Now, if I think about Finnish artists and bands that are widely known abroad, I could mention Apocalyptica, Nightwish, Sunrise Avenue, myself and many others, but we are all performing in English! After all it all depends on the artists themselves how they feel about their roots. I have been waving the Finnish flag very proudly abroad during my career, even though I have not lived in Finland for a long time. You can take a Finnish girl away from Finland, but you cannot ever take Finland out of the girl. The Ministry for Foreign Affairs of Finland made an emoji with my image calling it “the voice of Finland”. This made me very happy and proud.

Let’s continue by talking about your music. How would you describe your latest release, In the Raw, to somebody who hasn’t heard it yet?

In the Raw is a dramatic, symphonic rock album with a vulnerable, personal touch from me.

How was the production process with such a personal recording?

Production for the new album was quite painless, because I have talented people in my production team close by and ready for the challenge. Nowadays every professional musician is having their own place to record and produce, as do I and the people I am using in my productions. So, the album was recorded in many places in the world: my vocals at my home and finally the mixing with Tim Palmer in Texas, the US, as was the case with my previous albums. I was overseeing and keeping the giant puzzle together until the whole process was finally finished. I was exhausted after all this, because the album happens to be the most personal album so far in my career. It took time to come out with all the songs and get it done, but I am very happy and satisfied with the end result.

This process sounds a bit different than the one with your last live-art-album Act II. What was it like putting this collection together? What was the inspiration for the songs on it?

It took me many months to work on this product. It consists all together eight-and-a-half hours of music and images, so the video editing and sound mixing took me a long time. Also, the artwork of this live record was done carefully, and it is based on photos taken in the streets of Florence, Italy, and beautiful live photos. I still today see importance in producing live records, mainly for me to realise where I am standing as an artist today. It is an opportunity from where people that haven’t witnessed my live concerts yet can see what I am doing and those who have been following my career can re-live the experience.

My first live record, ACT I, consists of two of the first studio album’s songs and this second live recording the following three. So, the setlist is based on those three records. I really hate repeating myself, so ACT II is refreshing, live-art-video whose arty looks I have deeply worked on.

Do you ever find yourself unable to express your creativity to the fullest? What kinds of things inhibit you?

If I jump into something new, into a new challenge, I have to be sure in advance that I will be capable of doing a good job with it. I have my limitations when it comes to singing as well and mostly my gut feeling is the one that I trust. I won’t do something if I don’t feel good about it. I have realised that life is too short to be spent on things that don’t give you anything.

I am my own boss, so I basically decide myself what to do and when, so when it comes to being creative I definitely express myself within my limits, and never I have found myself incapable of doing that. That’s a huge blessing to be honest.

When you perform, what do you want to deliver to the audience? What do you want the audience to feel?

I am a storyteller and I always pour my heart to my listeners. I am a very emotional artist and I am sure my audiences feel that in me. I want them to have the best time of their lives in my shows! I want them to laugh, to love, to cry and to feel. My music and my performances are all about emotions.

What mindset or trait do you think every singer must possess in order to become successful?

What is success? How you measure that? I think every person should find, first in their hearts, what personal success means for them. You want to succeed, you must have the passion and love for singing and you should be ready to fight for your dreams. You should truly be able to listen to your heart if you one day stand at the crossroads without knowing what to do. Music keeps you humble and grateful, because it’s a gift. That should never be forgotten.

You have been a household name for some 23 years, is there something that you haven’t accomplished as yet?

I am a workaholic in a way and I always seek new challenges. I think I can never learn enough from music, because I believe there is always something new to explore. I would like to express myself more as a songwriter still in the future and expand my “brand” as an artist.

What has been your most memorable gig so far? Why?

This is a very difficult question to answer, because my 23-year career consists of very many different kinds of concerts. But once I got to sing to a person as a surprise and make his knees bend and tears pour from his eyes, because he just couldn’t believe it was happening. This little surprise made his day shine and mine as well. I love making people happy with music, that’s my inspiration and motivation still today.

What have been the biggest inspirations for your career?

Film music, a few metal bands, Peter Gabriel and Paulo Coelho’s books. The fact that there is always something new to discover in music is motivating. You can only try to be the best, but you cannot ever be.

What are your other interests apart from music?

I love movies, interior design, gym, fashion, scuba diving.

And when are you at your happiest?

When I am playing with my little daughter. Her innocence and love are pure and real.