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#I had way too much confidence in my emerging artist skills...I am still going to try my best!
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 months
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Preview of the runner up results from this poll. I wish everyone who wanted to see more SVSSS characters from me a merry "I'm So Sorry'.
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A Starry Night (Jihyun x MC fluff!)
Here’s something for all of you Jihyun fans, I’m sure y’all were heart broken with the AE and I wanted to cheer y’all up a little bit :D
It’s been a while since I’ve written like this, and for V too, so uh- I’m sorry if it’s shitty lmao it was made at 4am by a very tired Amanda ✌️
Anyhow hope you enjoyyy~
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“That’s not fair!” You cried as you looked at your husband’s gingerbread house. Jihyun only smiled humbly and glanced over at yours.
“Y/N yours isn’t bad, I actually think it’s really ni-”
´´Jihyun the roof literally collapsed and massacred all of my gingerbread family!!” You groaned as you tried to fix your broken gingerbread house.
It had been your idea for the two of you to bake some Christmas themed stuff that afternoon, and Jihyun happily agreed to do it.
You had been pretty confident about your cooking skills, granted neither of you had ever made a gingerbread house before, but you had seen enough videos and tutorials to feel as if you were going to emerge victorious in making one!
Yeah, no.
Everything was going fine at first. Both you and V were having fun mixing the dough, listening to Christmas music and dancing around the room, playfully. Sometimes Jihyun would suddenly grab you by the hand and spin you around, giving you a peck on the cheek whenever you finished dancing. There was also this mini food fight the two of you had, where you had wiped a bit of flour off in Jihyun´s cheek smirking mischievously. He smiled and then before you knew it, the two of you were head to toe covered in flour and icing.
It was really fun, and the two of you were really enjoying yourselves!
While you waited for the dough to bake, the two of you helped each other clean yourselves from the flour. Jihyun would gently take a towel and wipe your face, smiling lovingly at you while you also got bits of flour off from his hair.
When he was done, he cradled your cheek and rubbed his forehead against yours, making you giggle. He didn’t pull away for a few minutes, and then he started leaning his face closer and closer to you. He stopped just inches away from your lips with his eyes half closed.
´Can I kiss you?’ he asked.
You slowly nodded and let out a satisfied sigh as Jihyun cupped your neck and gently pulled your lips to his, enveloping you in a chaste kiss. You leaned closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, making him smile. The two of you held each other, your kiss eventually becoming hotter, faster, more desperate.
You didn’t exactly know when, but at one point Jihyun gently pressed you against the counter, still kissing you, and you rubbed your hips against him, making him let out a moan.
Before the two of you could go any further though, the oven let out a loud ding! That startled the two of you. You shyly pushed away, and smiled at Jihyun, cupping his cheek.
´Welp, we can continue this later. Now I am going to beat your ass in making gingerbread houses!´you said playfully, as you softly pushed a laughing Jihyun aside and got the oven mitts out.
The dough was perfect! You let out an excited squeal and the two of you began working on your houses.
At first everything was going well. You had the structure planned out, and the icing was ready! All you had to do was build and decorate the house, which you believed was the easy part.
Oh how wrong you were.
First, you had built the walls and put inside your little gingerbread people! It was a cute little family you had made, and they were all sitting around the place, some where even looking out the window! You thought it was absolutely adorable, and got ready to put on the roof.
Jihyun meanwhile, was still working on his walls, and you stuck out your tongue. “All I have to do is decorate and I’m done! This is another win for Y/N!!” You celebrated.
Jihyun smiled and shook his head, concentrated on steadily building the walls.
You had to admit he was really cute. So before putting the roof on your house you decided to sneakily take a picture of Jihyun.
He was sticking his tongue out, just like he always did when he was focused on something. There was also a bit of flour on his face and hair which was messily sticking to his forehead.
After you took the picture and sent it to the RFA chat, you put your phone back in your pocket and began the procedure of slooowly putting the roof on the house.
Slow...sloooooow...aaaand done!!!
You let out a small whoop as you took a few steps back to admire your work. It was looking really good, if you could say so yourself.
Jihyun laughed and told you that you did a great job! You waited for him to finished and then started decorating your gingerbread houses, making little comments or making up stories about your gingerbread people while time passed.
You did not enjoy decorating.
It was so friggen hard! You didn’t even know how to do it! Meanwhile Jihyun was beside you, making beautiful designs for the roof, the walls,the windows.
Well he WAS an artist after all. Still it made you a bit pouty that your own house wasn’t turning out how you wanted it to be.
“Ahh Jihyun! How are you even doing this? Decorating is really haaaard!” You whined as you stood behind him, watching him work.
He chuckled and then shrugged. “Well...I honestly don’t know. I can help you with yours if you’d like.”
You shook your head and went back to your gingerbread house. “I’ll just add a bunch of sprinkles or something to make it look better.”
You took some chips and started spreading them around the roof.
It wasn’t that bad honestly.
That was...until all hell broke loose.
All of a sudden (you didn’t exactly know why, though you were suspecting the amount of chocolate chips you had put on the roof had been the cause) your roof collapsed into the house and you let out a pained cry.
“NO MY HOUSE” you cried, as the roof collapsed and slaughtered all of your gingerbread people.
The two of you stood in silence for a few minutes.
Then, Jihyun, oh sweet Jihyun, started laughing. At first he tried to cover it up with his hands, but eventually he couldn’t hold it in anymore and laughed, hugging his stomach while bending over and sometimes looking up at you to see if you were actually mad.
“I’m...I’m so sorry Y/N, it’s just, hahahaha, it’s just- oh god! Was it the sprinkles??” He asked between fits of laughter.
You tried to glare at him, but eventually a smile formed on your face. “I do think it was the sprinkles..but Jihyun! You can’t laugh about this tragedy! All of them all dead!” You pouted . Jihyun gestured towards his house and gave you a small smile. “Why don’t we both work on mine then?”
“Really? You were doing such a great job and I might...I dunno screw it up?”
He shook his head. “Nonsense. Besides, your touch will make the house more special. Whatever you do will look like a masterpiece in my eyes. Except no sprinkles. Please.”
You blushed and chuckled as you walked closer to Jihyun and started working on his, no, your gingerbread house. It was something the two of you did together, and when you were done, you took a picture and sent it to the RFA. Then you decided to eat!
You were laying on the couch, holding each other.Jihyun was checking his phone and talking to the RFA members for the two of you, while you ate parts of the house and sometimes fed a few to V. It was calm, and beautiful. Until V let out a surprised gasp and you jumped, wondering what was wrong.
On his phone, you could see the picture that you had sent to the RFA of him bulding the gingerbread house. You couldn’t help but laugh at V’s expression, his eyes wide and his face all flustered. You only bopped his nose and said, “that’s what you get for being so adorable you beautiful man.”
To that, Jihyun blushed even more, but he smiled and told you it was fine. Although he would have liked to take a picture of you too later.
And so, a few hours passed, and the two of you made your way out into the balcony. You had one of those hanging chairs that you would always use, so V sat on it and then you quickly got on top of him and held him close. It was nighttime already, and the stars were beautiful.
Eventually V nuzzled his head on your neck, and whispered something.
“Jihyun....?” You asked.
Shyly, he looked up at you and nuzzled closer.
“I love you Y/N. I love you so much.” He said.
“I love you too Jihyun.” You smiled and kissed his forehead, but V shook his head.
“I just...I love you so much. You don’t understand how much you’ve changed me, how much you’ve helped me. I just want to thank you for everything. For being by my side, for...for actually loving me. I’m so lucky I get to be with someone like you, love. Sometimes I wonder how I got to meet someone as amazing as you, I don’t...I don’t deserve you, yet here you are, waking up by my side every morning. Thank you, Y/N, and merry christmas.”
You softly smiled and gently made V look up at you. “You silly little man. It’s me who should be thanking you. Jihyun...you deserve the best of the best, and I promise I will always work hard to give you whatever you want. You’ve also changed me, so much. And I’m so grateful that I’m with you. Thank you Jihyun. I’m glad I get to spend Christmas with you.”
And with that, you both kissed, and held each other, looking up at the stars and whispering words of love.
The end!
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tremble-in-the-hips · 4 years
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All right, you asked for it. A fucking Picture of Dorian Gray fanfiction I wrote in high school. Pine away, gays.
Dorian’s leg bobbed furiously. The cigarette between his fingers smoldered to an ashen stub. On his velvet purple couch, he stretched out, perplexed by the painting strung above the fireplace. He shuddered as his own oil-glazed eyes peered at him. 
They weren’t really his eyes, he thought. The eyes belonged to Basil, whose skilled hands opened the window into Dorian’s soul, now sitting on the mantle. Dorian felt Basil’s presence in the canvas. His hands, cramping around a paint brush; his one eye open as he perfected his vision; his dark hair falling in clumps in front of his eyes. The concentration and adoration Basil put into creating the image was powerful. As he stubbed out his cigarette with a flick, Dorian felt the artist’s careful scrutiny staring back at him as he sat. He rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle as he thought of being in Basil’s studio just that afternoon. 
“Don’t listen to Harry,” Basil had warned. They were standing, a breath apart in the waning sunlight. Anxiously, Basil dug beneath his fingernails with a pencil to dislodge layers of crusting paint. 
Dorian had scoffed as he straightened his cuffs. “Basil, I’m beginning to see a pattern,” he chuckled. “For someone you trust, you condemn Harry rather harshly, don’t you think?”
Basil smiled politely. Dorian’s smile unraveled. “What,” he cried, “have I said something amiss?”
Basil met Dorian’s eye and laughed as he clasped his rough hands around one of Dorian’s. “No, never, my dearest,” Basil cooed, “I only wondered when I claimed to trust Harry.”
Dorian bent towards Basil. Concerned, he whispered, “You doubt his loyalty to you? Your friendship?”
Basil shook his head with a grin and laid a firm hand on Dorain’s shoulder. Head bowed, he turned back towards the painting on the opposite wall. “That, I don’t doubt,” Basil proclaimed, “ours is a friendship more like a commitment than marriage. We’ve seen too much together, know too much about each other. He will take my secrets to the grave with his cynicism and darkness which he so loves to spread,” he muttered. He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. 
Dorian eyed Basil playfully. “So, your lack of trust stems purely from experience? One too many nights of debauchery spent face down in a ditch due to one nefarious Henry Wotton?” Dorian stepped forward and took up all of Basil’s view. “Too many secrets falling out of his pockets?”
Basil chuckled and pushed Dorian away. Dorian giggled and shoved him back. The two poked and pulled on one another until Basil brought his hands over Dorian’s cheeks and held him back, both of them laughing raucously. (Seated on his couch, Dorian grinned at the thought.) Basil sighed and the air was calm. “Maybe,” he replied simply. 
Dorian clasped Basil’s shoulders and shook him once. “My God, Harry dares to decry marriage when he is married to you!”
Basil leaned heavily on Dorian’s shoulder, guffawing as his knees gave out. Wiping joyful tears from his eyes, Basil sighed, “Oh, but only Harry would believe a friendship akin to marriage worth cherishing and the only truly good purpose for marriage besides politics.” Basil stood up straight, eyeing Dorian from beneath his curtain of hair. “More than anything, the man is quick to decry romance.”
“Ironic, for a man with cynically romantic notions,” Dorian cried with a laugh. He looked adoringly at Basil. “What would he think of a friendship akin to romance?”
Basil bit his lip, eyes wandering absently to his left. He scoffed, “More than likely shaking his grim head at us.”
Dorian huffed, emerging from his revere startled and breathless. Friendship akin to romance, he thought, what a delightful delusion. He could hear Henry Wotton’s voice repeat such a sentiment in his head. He shuddered. He sometimes did find Harry outrageously grim, even when he followed Harry with a childlike curiosity and adoration. As embarrassed as he was, he found himself smitten with the lord; Wotton was handsome and charming and enticingly treacherous. Whatever Wotton said felt like honey, despite later burning like vinegar. 
Basil’s warning had shaken him. Dorian paused, considering how the night was to proceed. His party, which was to include Basil and Dorian, were to head to the theater after the club and witness one of Sybil’s first performances after their proposal. He was torn, intrigued and terrified by Harry’s promise of disappointment from Sybil’s love. Part of him wanted to continue heedless, so infatuated was he with Sybil; yet he felt hesitant, and chanced leaving Sybil if he got scared. 
It felt real, his love for Sybil. More real than even Harry’s cynicism could penetrate. 
Could there be a potential for failure in a feeling so strong? If only he could explain it to Harry! He paced the living room, drawing up articulate analogies. His satisfaction with Sybil was as permanent as the spring bloom, as lingering as a smoke cloud from a pipe, as tender as Basil’s affectionate brush stroke. 
Dorian skidded to a halt in the doorway, hand clutching his chest. Why do I still think of Basil? he thought. He flopped into a lounge chair, groaning. One of his servants came to him, mumbling about the arrival of Harry and Basil (did his heartbeat quicken?) to take him to the club, then the theater. His heart thumped as he plucked a flower from a vase on the counter and twisted the stem clean off. He pocketed the newly fashioned corsage. A beautiful tiger lily, muted orange with maroon spots. 
. . . 
His corsage lay crumbled in his hand. His entire body felt heavy, as if sinking into the earth. The theater box, already half empty since the second act, felt cold and bitter. 
Henry put it best. “Terrible,” he stated factually, “just terrible. Ah well - flames burn out. Such is life, such is theater.”
“This isn’t right,” Dorian gasped, barely looking up from the flower in his hand. He studied the creases in the petals. He attempted to smooth them out with his thumb, growing annoyed when the petals curled around his fingers. He huffed, “she must be ill, or upset, or possibly inebriated, or-”
“Oh dear, sweet Dorian,” Henry sighed, laying a hand on Dorian’s shoulder. Dorian barely looked up. “We both know those possibilities aren’t true,” Henry crooned. With a sniff, he looked toward the stage exit. “You’ve got to hand it to her thought,” he sighed, “she loves you. It’s clear in her face, the way she looked out into the audience, the way she breathed. That’s love. But it’s normal love, average - and acted love will always be more potent. Or at least it will present better on stage -”
“Where’s Basil?” Dorian cut in, shrugging off Henry’s hand with an irked groan. 
“Home by now,” Henry relayed in a monotone, “he left partway through the curtain call, had to attend to a friend or a casserole or his own melancholy or something.” Dorian heard the click of a pocket watch opening. “Well,” cried Harry conspicuously, “your Juliet has more than likely returned to her dressing room now. I suggest you have a chat with her.”
Dorian grit his teeth, prickling against his clothes and skin. His annoyance felt like bile rising in his throat and he felt like spitting. Suddenly he was up, throwing the corsage against the floor. Through the unsettled curls of his hair, Dorian saw Henry step back with wide eyes and a smile.  
“Dorian, love, what’s got you flying like this?” he questioned playfully.
Dorian huffed and crossed his arms. He felt inflamed, like a deceived child. Was this the product of love? A loss of sense, a loss of purpose? Sybil was supposed to be Dorian’s greatest prize, the person for him to be proud of forever. When she flitted across the stage, he wanted nothing more than to claim the moment, claim her, with a fiery passion. She was something to behold (in her prime, Dorian thought bitterly, which seems to have ended) and she was something he wanted to behold constantly. 
Dorian flew, a trail of orange tiger lily petals falling at his boots. He felt confident in his ability to tell her just how he felt and nervous of her reaction. But he was angry! Truly angry! To watch her perform on any other night was to watch the gods of grace and whimsy in flight. What would become of the world, his world, without her gift, his pride? For her to fail or give up performance would be like if Basil put down his brush. 
Dorian hovered hesitantly in front of Sybil’s dressing room. He could feel his heart clattering against his breastplate. He reached for the doorknob and felt his ill intentions bubbling in his throat. She’s a charlatan, Dorian thought wickedly, and I am a willing sucker to her ruse. She embarrassed me in front of my friends! She doesn’t deserve my advances, my praise. What a failure! I’ll see to it she realizes the shame, the embarrassment. I mean, what would Basil think - 
Dorian’s hand shook violently as he grasped the doorknob. His breath escaped in sharp gasps. His grip loosened. To his left, he peered through a window and a vision formed of his own living room through the darkness. In the projection, he saw Basil smoothing the ruffles in Dorian’s jacket. His face was splattered with paint and a playful smile pulled his lips. 
“You really are a wonder, Dorian,” Basil’s voice echoed. Dorian’s mirror image blushed. “So youthful, yet so open; so beautiful, yet so kind.” The vision of Basil looked away from the vision of Dorian and stared, knowingly, at Dorian in real life. Terror gripped Dorian and shame overcame him as the vision smiled at him, concern in his eyes and a slight, adoring tilt in his head. The vision whispered, “I can always trust you to handle important things with care and thoughtfulness. It’s what I like best about you.”
Dorian let go of the doorknob and stared at it pointedly. His face twisted and released. What was my plan? he thought. What would I have accomplished with such anger?
The door creaked open and Sybil’s heart-shaped face appeared like a moon over the horizon. She beamed. “Oh, love!” she yelped and pushed the door open.
Dorian looked forward and straightened his back. He swept his hair back and gave Sybil a polite smile. “My dearest,” he muttered shyly. 
“I was hoping I had seen you on the balcony,” Sybil squealed with delight. She stepped into the door frame and swept her hand over the room. “Will you join me, good prince?”
Dorian met her eyes and sighed, feeling light and giddy. Despite the embarrassment, his physical feelings for her were strong. Sybil held her hand out for Dorian to take. Before he reached out, he thought of Basil’s unruly dark hair and affectionate smile.
The right thing? Dorian questioned fearfully. He took Sybil’s hand delicately and kissed her fingers. “I would, darling,” Dorian chuckled, “but I must attend to personal matters.”
Sybil recoiled slightly, but soon returned a polite smile. “Oh, that’s fine. Before you go, I was wondering what you thought of my -”
“You were lovely,” Dorian cried, “and I will explain away my hastiness later!” He leaned forward and gave her a sweet kiss on the lips. Once he was out the door, he began sprinting down the street. 
. . . 
Basil’s door flew open and he laughed with surprise and delight before pulling Dorian into his embrace. “I’m more than shocked,” Basil cried, “you came back for me! The night is alive with clubs and youthful spirit and you come to these unlit suburbs.” Basil sighed and leaned against the doorway to his living room with a jaunty grin. “Of course, the night’s youth allowed you to deduce that I had returned home.” Basil raised the wine glass he had been holding in respect. “You know me too well,” he chuckled. 
Dorian giggled, “have you been drinking, Basil?”
Basil bit his lip against a smile and moved the glass behind his back. “Who’s to say,” he deflected, barely containing his laughter.
Dorian clasped Basil’s shoulder with a grin. “It’s no matter anyway. May I?” Dorian inquired, pointing lazily at Basil’s glass.
Basil shrugged and handed his glass to Dorian. “Why not? Here, have a head start.”
Dorian blushed, touched by the gesture. He took Basil’s glass, raised it to him, and took a sip. It felt like stinging, sweet ginger as it ran down his throat. 
Basil poured another glass in the corner of the room. He eyed Dorian kindly. “I’m terribly ashamed of my behavior tonight,” he admitted, “I’m sorry for leaving the theater without so much as a goodbye. Sybil’s performance was important to you.”
“Whatever you are sorry for, you are forgiven, believe me,” Dorian assured, “I was only worried for your well being.”
Basil looked away, smiling to himself. “Thank you,” he whispered, “though, you could have called. You didn’t. You ran here. I’m curious as to what compelled you to do so.”
Dorian laughed. “I’m curious as to why you fled when you claimed you were eager to join us!”
Basil shrugged with an innocent smile, his lips touching his cup. Chuckling, he said, “I’m still not sure. I thought myself a bore on such a joyous night. Shakespeare often depresses me.”
Dorian nodded attentively, sipping at his drink. “I believe that is his point actually,” he wondered. “The dramas are meant to strike a chord with our humanity, to tell a story of unrequited or unfulfilled romance.”
Basil scoffed, staring into his swirling glass. He met Dorian’s eyes tenderly, sighing, “My dear, often it is the romance that depresses me.”
Dorian turned his head, brow furrowed, and Basil laughed, “it is nonsensical to anyone but me. I find myself incompatible with romance. I don’t hold onto relationships. I am quick to turn inward, quick to anger, and unable to respond to a lover’s cry for attention.” Basil huffed with eyes downcast. “Lovely, lovely Dorian, I am impossible to love.”
The room stood quiet. After a moment of discomfort in silence, Dorian sat on Basil’s dark green couch and beckoned to Basil. Basil shuffled over with tepid steps and flopped into the seat next to Dorian. Dorian turned his shoulders towards Basil and took his hands. He turned them over, lightly drawing on Basil’s palms with his thumbs. He whispered to Basil, “I left the theater tonight after the show because I was inspired by the idea of what you’d think of my actions.”
Basil leaned back against the arm of the sofa, surprise alight in his eyes. His lips drew taut as he tried to suppress a smile. “Go on,” he whispered.
Dorian cleared his throat. His palms were sweating and he cupped them lightly around Basil’s, trying not to dampen them. “I was inflamed,” he continued, “both by Henry’s words and the events at the theater. I felt mean like a snake, wanting to lash out.” Dorian chuckled darkly. “I thought myself deserving better. I thought of telling Sybil so, harshly if need be.”
Basil stared at Dorian with concern. He looked down, grasping at empty words. “I’m . . . sorry to hear you were in such a state, possessed by evil like that.” He clasped Dorian’s hands gently. “I am, however, proud and delighted that you thought of me and made a better choice.”
Dorian averted his gaze, beaming. “It seems I think of little but you lately, Basil.”
Basil blushed deep red and his face lit up with a delirious smile. Dorian hopped closer, encouraged by Basil’s response. He took a shaking breath, continuing, “Basil, whatever compels you to believe you are impossible to love, it is a false pretense; you create beauty out of nothing; you adore your friends with great and genuine enthusiasm; you corale me towards the right path,” Dorian declared. Running a hand through his flyaway hairs, he leant towards Basil with a serious look. “Despite my influences, you get me to see what is right and good with only the thought of your care, your kindness, and your love for me.”
Dorian let out a final breath. Basil’s eyes were locked with his, shining with earnest and insane happiness. His head rested relaxed to his left and he rubbed Dorian’s hands between his fingers. Dorian’s heart quickened and he looked away, clearing his throat again. Timid, he looked into Basil’s eyes. He whispered, “Who are you to say you are immune to romance? What about us? Fools in a friendship akin to romance?”
Breathless, Basil reached out, cupping Dorian’s face gingerly in his hands. Dorian lightly traced his fingers over the back of Basil’s hands. Basil shook his head in disbelief. He rubbed his thumb along Dorian’s cheekbone. “I,” he stuttered, “I, you, you’ve surprised, I’m . . .”
Dorian slid his hands down the length of Basil’s arms and dug his fingers into Basil’s shoulders. “Whatever you’re planning to do or say,” he breathed, “do it now. I despise suspense.”
Basil burst into laughter and Dorian joined. When both had caught their breath, Basil pulled Dorian towards him for a kiss. Dorian closed his eyes, sinking with relief as he wrapped his arms around Basil’s neck. Basil ran his fingers through Dorian’s hair and let his lips drag over Dorian’s sluggishly, intoxicated by the intimacy. Dorian pressed his forehead to Basil’s and Basil pulled back, gasping for breath. With a grin, Dorian nuzzled Basil’s nose, causing the two to giggle with childish giddiness. 
“Do you believe you’re wrong now?” Dorian cooed. “About being incompatible with romance?”
“Possibly,” Basil retorted, playing with one of Dorian’s curls. 
“I think you’ll do fine,” Dorian sighed, catching Basil’s eye and grinning. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a stem of lavender. Basil’s brows drew together in a question and Dorian explained, “I pulled it out of the vase at the theater..” Basil rolled his eyes and Dorian flicked his nose. “Enough,” he laughed, “I’m trying to perform an incredibly romantic gesture.”
Basil laughed heartily. “Okay,” he cried, “you’ve gotten me to believe in love again. Happy?”
Dorian beamed, “Always, with you.”
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yeocult · 4 years
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with the moon | k.hj
genre: comfort
wc: 1.2k words
song: our last dream - dpr
synopsis: through the lens of an artist’s journey to heal
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if seeing nothing was possible, it would be his canvas. the canvas that hongjoong was so excited to paint on. it was on the larger scale, not used to what he would normally paint on but he thought switching things up for a little challenge wouldn’t be so bad once in a while. obviously, he had overestimated his skills as a painter. but was being overly confident bad? or maybe he just wasn’t good to begin with?
he didn’t know why or how, but he could sense the canvas judging him as he sat on his stool for the past three hours accomplishing nothing. he felt so small and worthless. the artist found the large white surface to be intimidating, not knowing where or how to start it.
“why? why am i afraid?”
in a matter of seconds, all of his ideas and inspirations start to fly away, leaving him alone in his studio. the paint tubes no longer flashed colours and the scented candles no longer filled the room with its fragrance. he’s all alone.
paintbrushes started to feel heavier, exhausting his arm and the colours he mixed strained his eyes. he ditched the canvas, it’s not like he would achieve much by blankly staring at it. although sometimes he believed that if he thinks about painting, he would eventually start to do it. of course, that was just one of his many senseless ways of procrastinating. because deep down, he was afraid of not doing enough. he had nobody to blame but himself.
next thing hongjoong knew, he was walking down the streets, wandering off to who knows where, just anywhere but in his dull studio that was so occupied it made him feel nothing but empty. it’s like his feet were dying to get him out of that room, and he was thankful for it. because now, inhaling fresh air never felt so much better. 
city life. hongjoong loved it here. every time he sets foot out of his apartment, which is less than he’d like to admit, it gives him the exact feeling of moving to a new city. wanting to explore every inch of this city that he calls home. he loved the buskers who have a desire to showcase their talents. he was fond of the stray cats that wander without a care in this hectic world. the business workers who are constantly distracted by the phone yet still manage to work their way through crowds effortlessly. he admires the new couples who moved across from him for a fresh start. he appreciates the bold graffiti art on the side of the buildings that adds a little more personality to this place he calls home.
it was that time of the day where all the workers ride the train home. when the students leave the library and head back to their rooms to cram in more hours of studying. when couples go claim their reservations for a date that they both been looking forward to. when lost artists including himself roam the streets, looking left to right for any spect of inspiration. if he was lucky, there could be a slight chance he could paint like before again.
nothing was easy, especially when hongjoong was forcing himself to create. he always had this workaholic mindset that he was glad but at the same time, he wasn’t so proud of it. sure, creating fantastic art was amazing. he was afraid that if he wasn’t careful, this workflow would reach a dead end and he would no longer be able to paint like before. he had to keep his train running at all times, not stopping even if he was low on gas. he thought, “who am i if i don’t create? what’s my value?” it was nothing but a constant cycle of self-sabotage.
an artist without art is nothing.
the sudden buzz in this pocket interrupted his negative thoughts. his phone was out of battery, he sighed at the deadweight in his pocket. he took this opportunity to fully live without distractions from his phone. disconnect to connect. he took a deep breath, letting the refreshing air in and out. 
for the first time in what seems like forever, hongjoong wasn’t worried about creating. his mind wasn’t forcing himself to think of new ideas. his eyes weren’t frantically looking for inspiration. instead, his vision was focused on the bright neon lights that made the bars more lively and his mind was thinking about what places he wishes to explore. he was at ease.
his nose travelled to the nearest restaurant that overflowed the streets with its delightful aroma. the bell chimed at his entrance. without a care, he sat alone at a booth and ordered the first meal his finger pointed at. a heartwarming meal that couldn’t compare to the cheap convenience food he’s been feeding on the past weeks. hongjoong enjoyed the food along with the company of passing strangers and soothing jazz music.
his ears brought him to the singer on the street whose voice he immediately fell in love with. getting lost in the large audience surrounding the vocalist, he clapped his hands song after song. a broad smile never leaving his face while the voice whirled and danced around his ears. occasionally humming and mouthing the lyrics as he tapped his feet to the beat. he emerge this cheers and praise along with the crowd.
leaving the scene when his eyes sought out a cat. his eyes made him chase after a cat he felt a connection as if he already saw it before. he didn’t know why or where. with a jolt of adrenaline, his feet sprinted after the cat. his feet were racing faster than his mind. letting the cool air dance through his hair, lifting his hair up and exposing his forehead. letting his feet pound across the ground, it quickly leads him to a larger group of stray cats behind some building downtown and he slowed down his pace. “are you lost like me too?” he spoke softly to the cat. “i don't know the way, i'm like an alley cat.”
dusk. before hongjoong knew it, the sun left him. he was alone for a split second until the moon comforted him. hongjoong was attached to the moon, he preferred sunsets to sunrises. he found solace in the moon during late nights when he was all alone. the moon encouraged him to work harder during the nights where he was up past midnight working on a project. but it also reminded him to rest and sleep before it leaves him in the morning. before the sun is rising up.
hongjoong was an optimist and a hard worker. it was a poison to his health but an antidote for his art career. however, he reminds himself that he’s human before an artist. maybe soon the paint tubes will embrace him with their vibrant colours, the intimidating canvas will welcome him back to the studio, and the scented candles will once again bring life around him with its fragrance. he thought, “maybe i’m not afraid.”
so after his tedious journey for motivation, he did the one thing he should’ve done in the first place; rest.
-
"you're wonderful. there's no need to rush. please take your time to polish your talent." — whisper of the heart (1995) dir. yoshifumi kondō
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diyunho · 5 years
Text
The Joker x Reader -”On Cloud Nine”
The Clown Prince of Crime died protecting his girlfriend and now The Afterlife Assessment Bureau doesn’t know what to do with him: although J’s actions didn’t change the outcome, it scored major points in his chart and they have to recalculate the final score. Until that happens, The Joker was allowed to wait on the Lower Clouds right below The Higher Clouds where the woman he tried to save is spending eternity.
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“Hey lady!” you hear as you watch the beautiful blue skies from your fluffy cloud. ”Hey!”
Y/N looks towards the source of the noise only to notice this strange man with green locks waving at her from the cloud below.
“Yes?”
“Where are we?” the guy asks, having a hard time processing what’s happening to him.
The two don’t recognize each other: once you’re dead, you’ll have no memory of your past; they definitely don’t recall being together while they were alive.
“Not sure, but it’s beautiful,” you sigh and he huffs, annoyed.
“Ugh, it’s boring. Nothing to do besides sitting down and analyze… whatever the hell this is!” J flares his arms around as a voice coming from everywhere echoes in the stillness:
“Please mind your language, sir!”
“Who said that?!” The Joker tries to find the person that just admonished him and there’s no other soul besides the woman he’s having a conversation with.
“I don’t know,” you lift your shoulder up, intrigued. “Kind of weird,” you dangle your feet above the abyss, totally unconcerned about the invisible presence. “What is that?” you point at the sketchbook he’s holding.
“My drawings,” The King of Gotham sulks, restarting to doodle on the almost blank page.
“Can I see?” you curiously inquire.
J bites the pencil and frees his hands, then shows you his current masterpiece.
“Could you hold it higher?” you squint your eyes. “Higher!!”
The expression on your face demonstrates you can’t perceive too much.
“Why don’t you come over?” the man proposes and your stalling makes him snicker: “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”
“Hmmm…” you debate on the offer not because you’re afraid of a little jump but because you’re uncertain it’s worth the trouble.
“C’mon!” The Joker wants to get up and help yet Y/N is already hopping down on his cloud: she’s always been independent, one of the qualities he secretly liked about her before they both unexpectedly kicked the bucket. “Nice landing!” J chuckles as you take a sit by him, the artist reprising his work. “What do you think?” he proudly boasts.
You glimpse at the clumsy lines depicting an apparent landscape filled with pumpkins and can’t hold in a smile.
“I think there’s a lot of potential hidden behind the primitive naivety of this little gem,” you give him your honest judgement and J scoffs, intrigued.
“Primitive?!”
“I like your style,” you sweetly reply since you realize you shouldn’t have blurred out the comment; he might be offended by your genuine critique. “The pumpkins are super cute,” you add in order to divert his attention.
“I like pumpkins,” The Joker growls. 
“Me too,” you continue. “That would be an adorable nickname for someone, don’t you think?”
“I suppose,” he shakes his head and mentions: “Why are you staring at me? Do I have something in my teeth?”
“They’re silver,” you bring your face closer to his, puzzled to discern the detail.
“Are they?!” The King touches his mouth, appalled.
“Yes, but it suits you,” the sincere tone calms down his frantic movement.
“Am I ugly?!” his ego emerges even beyond the grave and Y/N has the perfect answer:
“No, you’re handsome in a sort of eerie way.”
J frowns, suspicious.
“So I look creepy?!”
“You don’t look creepy to me,” you candidly emphasize. “In my humble opinion, you’re attractive.”
He straightens his back, pleased at the statement and your rosy cheeks give him a boost of confidence.
“Are you going to ...e-hem…” you cough, flustered at the stupid confession, “…draw another pumpkin over here?” your finger taps on the corner of the paper.
“Might as well,” J agrees and you have no clue that what he’s doing is basically thanks to you.
God knows how much you encouraged his practically nonexistent skills just to keep him away from problems he created for himself and others! You were actually his number one fan and to be honest his only fan: as long as The Clown Prince of Crime was immersed in his unique hobby, it meant Gotham and its citizens were safe.
The Penthouse was filled with The Joker’s phenomenal paintings and sketches, extravagantly framed by yours truly to overcompensate the lack of substantial talent.
“Ma’am, please return to your cloud!” the voice you heard earlier resonates all around once more.
“Why?” you glare left and right, annoyed you can’t see anybody.
“You belong on The Higher Clouds,” the elusive response doesn’t enlighten the mystery. “Hold on, we’re sending our representative over!”
After a few seconds Y/N and the former King distinguish an individual dressed in a black suit carefully jumping from cloud to cloud, steadily approaching his objective.
“Apologies for the delay,” he addresses the stunned couple once in The Joker’s space. “Sir, we had to compile a lot of paperwork for you,” the guy flips pages of a thick file, annoyed. “After adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing your points, turned out your final score is still a negative number.”
“Huh?!” J puckers his lips, confused.
“It seems you were a very bad person, sir; did a lot of despicable things and dying while protecting the girl you loved doesn’t mean diddly squat in the end!”
“Awww,” you gush at the revelation. “That’s so romantic,” you whisper and the man bends over, completely overwhelmed:
“Ma’am, allow me the honor of shaking your hand,” the agent grabs your fingers, softly squeezing them. “You are a true legend and we are forever indebted to your greatness: you put up with him and saved numerous lives also,” he gestures towards The Joker and you gasp, finally understanding the bigger picture.
“He died…for me?!”
“I died for her?!” the awkward pair asks in the same time.
“Yeah, no big deal. You were killed anyway and I’m so, so sorry for that,” the emissary extends his regrets to the woman he admires, entirely disregarding The Joker’s sacrifice.
“No big deal??!!” the latest shouts. “Dying for someone is no big deal?! How the fuck am I still in the negative?!!”
“Language!!!!!!” the omnipresent voice surfaces again.
“WHO.IS.THAT?!” Y/N gets vexed at the multiple invisible interruptions.
“Steve Rogers,” the representative notifies. “He’s in charge of The Profanity Control Department.”
“Who?!” J crinkles his nose, fed up with the messy situation.
“It’s not important,” the agent cuts him off. “What’s important sir is that you can’t be here; we have to move you.”
“Move me?! Where?”
“Yes, where are you taking him?” you quiz the black suited guardian.
“Far away, unless…”
“Unless what?” J crabbily interrogates.  
“Unless someone is willing to transfer their points to you, sir. It hasn’t been done in centuries though; lots of bureaucracy involved and frankly, if I may: why would anybody donate their hard earned credits to you??!!”
The Clown is scandalized at the brutal affirmation while Y/N has a magnificent idea:
“How many points do I have?”
“Mmmmm…,” the man flips more pages and finds the information: “Ten gazillions.”
“How many does he need?”
“Three gazillions.”
“Oh,” you cheerfully clap your hands. “I have plenty so I’ll donate my credits to him.”
“Nah, you don’t want to do that,” the man shrieks, already unhappy with the perspective of putting in overtime for this project. “We’re out of clouds; we’ll have to make more and that takes forever.”
“There are plenty of empty clouds around!” The Joker barks.
“Not empty. They are inhabited by others but you can’t see them: you can only see the people you are connected with, true love type of deal,” the emissary indifferently blurs out.
“So…that’s why I can only see him and he can only see me?!” Y/N’s burning, red face matches J’s stellar entitled smirk after the astonishing revelation.
“Precisely,” the flat tone prompts The King’s logical question:
“Then why can’t I stay on this cloud?”  
“The Lower Clouds are similar to a waiting room; we can’t have them occupied for long periods of time.”
“I’ll share my cloud with him!” you firmly suggest as the emissary is panicking:
“That means more paperwork!! We usually don’t have two residents spending eternity on the same cloud.”
“Make it happen!” J commands. “The lady wants to give me her points and share her cloud. You can’t say no, you said it yourself: she’s a legend!” he preys on the guy’s hesitation.
“I would really appreciate your help,” your disarming smile gives the guardian a nudge in the proper direction.
“Of…of course ma’am,” he stutters because how can one say no to a legend?!
And you surely count on it.
“I have to stipulate a reason for all this, what should I write on the formulary? In a simple sentence, it needs to be specific and concise: why are you gifting him credits and share your personal area?”
Your brain slots are hollow yet there’s one motive:
“I like his drawings.”
The impeccable suit ogles J’s silly scribbling, muttering under his breath:
“Another Picasso…” then louder:
“I’ll do the paperwork; for now, please vacate the premises and go on the Upper Cloud; we have new arrivals that require the Lower Clouds,” he exhales and starts leaping away, leaving you and The Joker behind.
Your cloud descends so you both can step on it and then floats higher in the air again.
Y/N gazes at the stranger in silence, until he breaks the shell:
“Thank you for your generosity, Miss…” J sniffles, realizing an important detail is absent from the whole dialogue. “What’s your name?”
“…I don’t know…” you regretfully answer. “I can’t remember…”
The Joker scratches his chin with a brilliant solution on the horizon:
“You said Pumpkin would be an adorable moniker for someone. Do you mind if I call you Pumpkin?”
“No, not at all,” you gladly accept his proposition. “And you’re welcome, I had so many credits, might as well use them. I have to thank you too for dying for me, Mister… What’s your name?”
“Bits me; I can’t recollect.”
Y/N pouts, upset she doesn’t have a name when a genius recommendation escapes her lips:
“You know… you have this small “J” letter tattoo under your left eye…” you gently poke it and he feels a sudden warmth taking over his body. “Is it ok if I call you J?”
“U-hum,” the hypnotized King gazes at the woman in front of him. “So I have tattoos on my face?”
“Yes, a few: a tiny star and a big one on your forehead that spells ‘Damaged’. And playing cards on your neck…” you describe his ink, mesmerized.
“Do they make me look horrible?”
“You don’t look horrible to me,” you praise and J inflates his chest at the declaration; oh boy, you definitely have a way with words.
“Thank you Pumpkin,” the flirtatious Clown winks and you play with the hem of your shirt, about to burst out with delight. 
“You’re welcome… J.”
“Oh my God!” The Joker snaps out of it since the artist in him is begging for attention:  “The sunset’s gorgeous! I have to sketch this!”
He sits down on the cloud and you scoot over until your thighs touch, interested in his new project.
“Your cloud is a better quality than the one I was on,” he bounces on the white, velvety texture. “It will certainly improve my technique!”
“Absolutely!” you enthusiastically exclaim, determined to assist no matter what.
Heaven knows your new friend J evidently requires steady guidance regarding his hobby: he’s no Picasso yet, but with a legend’s help he might eventually get there.  
Also read: MASTERLIST
You can follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.
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beatsfortheillperth · 4 years
Text
Words with Twin Nemesis
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The United States is the homeland of a lot of the creatives we've had words with over the years, and Soph and Sylv, the masterminds behind Twin Nemesis are just two more US beat-smiths and creatives who just so happen to be cohesively moving sound-waves over in the USA.
The girls are tweaking valleys of bass that display a musical landscape that is infused with funk and wave wonder and this duo will intrigue like the piper, tame ones head to bop and, damn feet to tap with their select but distinguishing variety of tracks.
Twin Nems sound will either have you wishing you were out in an underground nightclub, bouncing by the speakers or, chilling at home on a rainy day with a hot cuppa. It can go both ways with these talents, something that's not easy to encourage, but these beat-smiths do so in the most pleasing matter.
Keeping their minds well and in tune away from producing through their studies in University and Med School. These two are not only fuelling their minds but the minds of their listeners worldwide. 
Thank you Twin Nem and please don't let the studies led to a musical disappearance, Bass needs you both to continue your relationship and we need you to stay together, for our speakers' sake. 
Much love and enjoy words with these unique talents.
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Listen to Twin Nemesis, Saying Hello on Spotify -https://open.spotify.com/artist/0aSDNbyGRzbragp1DE9ZKk
Hey, Twin Nemesis thank you so much for taking the time to share words. I thought we would start will a few quick questions.
Favourite Food: Sophie - Mac and Cheese Sylvie - I love food, so that's gonna be hard! I'd say sushi, vanilla berry cake, gummy candy or Thai food :). Oh, and a juicy burger and onion rings. Favourite Beverage:   Sophie - Mojito ;P Sylvie - Plain and simple, water! Stay hydrated, folks! Last track you listened to: Sophie - The Suburbs- Mr Little Jeans Sylvie - Jon Casey's 20/20 mix! That part at 1:30 is insane!! A childhood memory in regards to music: Sophie - The first song I remember is Karma Police..my mom was playing it in the car when I was like a few months old and it stuck with me. I heard it again maybe when I was 14? It was like a shot of lightening. I felt this nostalgia. It was insane. It's my favorite song.   Sylvie - Without a doubt, driving with my dad in the car to Sergio Mendes and the Beatles. I grew up on Bossa Nova and Classic Rock :) First Album you ever purchased: Sophie - Ok Computer  Sylvie - Sheesh, I can't recall to be honest! Most likely something from Sergio Mendes. Last Album you purchased: Sophie - Don't remember tbh  Sylvie - I stream on Spotify, so I haven't quite been purchasing! Views on Cheese: Sophie - Give me all the cheese, just not the weird french ones Sylvie - Cheese is godly. The music you were listening to in Middle School: Sophie - Dubstep (UKF, etc) Sylvie - In Middle School, I was a huge fan of dubstep and drum and bass! UKF releases were the bulk of my then ITunes (rip) library! Still love both genres, especially the soulfulness of liquid drum n bass! What you like to do in your downtime: Sophie - Run around, play videogames, music Sylvie - I'm almost constantly studying, to be honest. However, if I do have a moment, I'll be reading medical journals or watching operations. I want more than anything to be an Emergency Room Physician, so I'm constantly reading articles about the ER when I find good ones. 
I'll also often hop on a shift to volunteer for Crisis Text Line, a truly powerful platform where you can be there for people in difficult times <3. Spreading love and reaching out is incredibly important to me. I also spend a lot of hours as well training for fencing and at the gym for cross-training... Not much "free time" I suppose, but that's exactly how I like it! I'm a busy bee. :D Your ideal feast would consist of: Sophie - Pizza, mac n cheese, nugs. Basically all the foods that will send me to the grave. Sylvie - Probably too much food to realistically procure for one feast. 
Thanks for that, so I'd like to start by asking, how did you both meet? Had you known each other long before you started making music together? Sylvie - We met in fencing in middle school and instantly became best friends. We just clicked! About a year into our friendship, I mentioned in fencing practice that I produced music, and Sophie wanted to join. We learned the ropes of Maschine together, and she picked up Logic faster than I did. Sophie proved to be a natural, and things just flowed from there!
Sophie - We went to the same middle/high school but met during fencing practice! We both fenced sabre for a couple of years and bonded through that. So probably like 2-3 years before we started making music.
    How did your musical relationship start and at the beginning were you both making your own music separately? How long have you been making music together? You've been releasing music on Soundcloud for 5 or so years under Twin Nemesis. Had you been making music together even before releases such as "Nocturne"? Could you share a memory from your early days making music together that has inspired you to continue creating? Sylvie - Sheesh, I would say it's been 6 years. We waited a year before releasing. We're both perfectionists. Before Twin Nemesis, I was releasing creations on my personal account. Sophie vibed with them, and before long we were producing together. In high school we would have "production nights" where we would stay up all night and produce something on one computer, one Maschine. Right after? Dance party time. These have been some of my best memories to date. Sophie - Sylvie taught me everything about how to use Logic and Maschine when we first started! I remember during fencing practice she was talking about producing beats and I thought that was so unique and interesting since I didn't know anyone who did that. We started hanging outside of fencing at her house experimenting with the Maschine and I just fell in love. 
What equipment do you guys use to create your sound? Also if it applies, what musical instruments do you both play? Does knowing how to play an instrument necessarily benefit someone trying to make beats more? Sylvie - I have background in drumming, so I gravitated towards the Maschine. I'm actually a classically trained violinist, and have been playing for 16 years! I also play the bass and drums. In terms of helping beat-making, I'm not quite sure. Plenty of really legendary beat-makers don't play other instruments-- I don't think it's needed to play anything. But I like to incorporate classical or jazz elements into my music when I can. Sophie -  I do not actually play any instruments but I use Maschine as well as Logic and Ableton. I wish I understood the theory behind a lot of the music being put out today but playing by ear has worked out so far.  Could you share a paragraph of what Twin Nemesis represents to you individually and also what Twin Nemesis represents to you both collectively? What inspired the name Twin Nemesis? Love it. Sylvie - Its really special to be able to make music with your best friend. To me, Twin Nemesis represents a creative outlet where we can express our feelings through a medium that has no words.
 We're able to pinpoint that feeling, and hone in on the sonic experience that can deliver a sense of it into our listeners. I want to be able to uplift them, be there for them, show them that they're not alone, be their shoulder to cry on, and help them if I can with our music. 
To me, it's my hope that we can help heal people with the joy of music, (cheesy as it sounds). There's no greater joy than helping others, and I hope we can do that not just in our day- to-day lives, but in our music as well. 
Sophie came up with Twin Nemesis actually, and it's ironic, because I'm an actual twin. We are far from nemeses, my twin is a best friend as well, and I'm extremely lucky to have her. So there's no connection there, Sophie just thought it sounded cool. She's creative as heck! 
Sophie - I think I came up with the name and honestly I think it came from the fact that Sylvie and I just looked very different (blonde vs brunette), yet we're both girls so I wanted to keep that dichotomy but also, yeah, it just sounds cool haha. 
For me Twin Nemesis is a great way to relax. I just finished my BS at Cornell University and am starting medical school at UCSF so my life tends to be very busy and stressful. Making music really grounds me and I found during the most stressful times of my career I tend to create the best music.   Going back to your track "Nocturne" I wanted to discuss it a little further as it is Twin Nems' earliest release that I felt contrasted it's follow up release on Soundcloud delightfully. That follow-up release was "Nostalgia". Were the contrasts in these two releases intentional or are the tracks unrelated? Can you share what making Nostalgia and Nocturne was like? And what you were trying to portray with each track? Sylvie - The two of those tracks were meant to be lofi hip-hop-esque. They were meant to evoke feelings of, well, nostalgia, from two different waveforms. For these two, we busted out our Maschines, and went for something as groovy as it was soulful. 
The process was relatively simple, as we were still figuring out the ropes- chop up a sample, lay down a bass-line, and of course, drum out a groovy, swinging drum pattern. That was really it, admittedly, but we felt that there was a special soulfulness in these tracks, so we released them. Sophie - Skipping, tbh don’t remember much other than I was going thru a bad breakup and these songs helped haha I just wanted to add, back in 2015 Twin Nemesis released a track called Chapel of the Devil via Bandcamp and the sounds displayed in that beat could easily nurse a rap, you guys had skill even back then, much love. What was it like for you making Chapel of the Devil and how do you feel your style has adapted over the years since? Do you feel more confident with each release over time, or do you feel you were more confident with your earlier releases? Sylvie - Mmmm. Good question! Sophie was more involved with that one. She found the sample and chopped it nicely. I can't really take much credit for that. In terms of style, I've began to shift into more bass-music, experimental types of music and have started to produce a fair amount of lo-fi hip hop.
What does making a beat do for you? Does it help you in any personal sort of way like offer an escape? What is it that you think draws more and more people into wanting to create their own beats? Sylvie - Making a beat is an outlet where I don't have anything to lose. When I'm making music, I tap into my emotions, and if not mine, my boyfriend's, my close friends', the worlds', or even my dog's (I'm obsessed with her). More and more people are gravitating towards beatmaking because it's become more culturally relevant with the rise of Soundcloud- the ability to share your creativity with the world is unique, and the fact that everyone has access to that upload button makes music production rather appealing. 
We live in a world of music-- it's all over us. To be able to create your own tunes has been an ever-present drive of humanity-- it's visceral. I gotta give one of my best friends, (an extremely talented classical pianist), Phoebe some credit for coming up with a quote that sums up why music itself is so powerful, especially in times like these-- 
"There’s nothing like the comfort of listening to a song that gets you. And that’s why music is so powerful, it can relate to any kind of person and make him or her feel safe and understood."
People are looking to make that song that gets them, to find that exact feeling that resonates with them and express it without words, in, what my boyfriend Jackson, (a phenomenal guitarist), describes as a medium that is visceral and can touch each and every person that listens differently. 
He believes some of the beauty of music is the ambiguity of the meaning as well. I had to credit these two here for their deeply insightful thoughts. 
Sophie - Refer to previous question, my life is very academically stressful so I use it as an escape away from the pressures of school. Twin Nemesis is also responsible for some bass-driven mixes that are just timeless. Listened to your minimix "That Wavy College minimix" which you both made two years ago and it is still relevant, thank you! Had you both always been into mixing or was it something you picked up along the Twin Nem journey? What gets you in the mood to want to create a mix and what inspires the tracklist you curate? Sylvie - YESSSSSS BASS MUSIC :) Mixing was something we picked up on the way. It really depends on who is making the mix. If it's Soph, it will be more melodic and rap-driven usually.
If it's me, it will be all about the drums. These are pretty consistent distinctions. The track-list is based on what has me bobbing my head and making the stank face at the moment. :)
Sophie - Sylvie makes most of the mixes and I loooove listening to them, especially when I'm studying. Her music taste really vibes with mine. I've tried making mixes but have yet to post anything....maybe soon... Twin Nemesis will also be doing a beatsfortheill mix which we are super humbled about, thank you both. What can our readers and listeners expect with this up and coming mix? Sylvie - You'll see ;) Bringing the timeline forward to a year ago, we have to discuss your track snüp, one of my personal favourites by Twin Nem that I feel perfects the sound you'd want any beat to create when you're trying the lay back, much love. How did you go about creating snüp, how long did it take you guys to make and what inspired it's creation? Sylvie - It was rather simple as well! Snoop Dogg acapella + sample chopped up + infectious drum groove + bass. Done. I would say it took us about 3 days actually. 
The both of us love jazz, old school hip hop, and soul music, so we wanted to integrate the sound of old school hip hop with more "new school". 
Adding the vinyl-ridden sample to a Snoop Dogg vocal was a contrast that we found worked very well, so we followed through with the idea and released it. 
Sophie - I'll let Sylvie answer this one You also released a track called Echoes of the Past in the same year and it was a track that showed me that you guys could tackle any genre. It's chilled, slightly romantic and soothing on a lofi lovers ears, thank you for creating this track. What inspires your shifts in sound in general from genre to genre? And on the subject of this particular track, what was it like to put together? Were you trying to share anything subtly with this release? Sylvie - Shifts in genre are because of our extremely diverse tastes in music. We listen to music spanning almost all genres, (save country, and for me, indie). 
This allows us to want to produce along the gamut of vibes! When we're especially enjoying lo-fi, like we were when we were making Echoes of the Past, we'll make lo-fi. If we're inspired by left-field bass/trap, we'll make something like Hello.Jpeg. It all depends, and there really is no specific reason for why make what we make, when we make it. It just happens that way! I wish I could say that I was trying to convey something...  In regards to music-making, what draws you in about a certain sound or vocal that makes you want to sample it? Sylvie - For me it's all about the groove. You know, when a groove is just *so infectious* that you can't help but bob your head and get those chills down your spine and turn the volume up higher.
I'm a sucker for creamy keys as well, like a Rhodes sample, the Korg Triton, jazz chords, 7ths. I love old soul and jazz music :) 
But also, I equally enjoy warping glitches and harsh sounds. For drum samples? Drums. Must. Slap. They have to cut through the mix and be powerful and beefy, with a liberal amount of syncopation added for that off-kilter groove.   Sophie -  I love oldies and sampling classical music, so if I'm listening to a random track and hear a catchy melody I download it right away and create something with it. I also am drawn to sadder more melancholy melodies. Not sure why but it's always been like that. The song that introduced me to your sound was "Hello.Jpeg" and I was blown away with this track. The intro reminded of something N.E.R.D could have produced and the bass will convert any avid bass listener, thank you again. What were you going for with this release? Did it take long to put together? Also, what do you enjoy most about this track? Sylvie - Awww sheesh, thanks! We were going for my favorite musical element, bounce. For me, that's what makes a track (in bass music). 
It's gotta have that bounce. We'd been listening to Jon Casey, Tsuruda, Explore, Mr. Carmack, etc. for ages, and were hoping to achieve a similar bouncy, stompy feel. 
This track by far took the longest to put together-- probably upwards of 2 weeks? There were a lot of elements there. As for the last question here, I think you can tell what I'm proudest of in this track.... (hint: the bounce). Sophie - We love experimenting with different genres and Hello.Jpeg was our jump. It was extremely fun and very natural to make...we're probably going to create more of that type.  Do you have any Musical Recommendations you could share? Sylvie - Ahhh, yes. I'll go by genre. 
In terms of bass and future beats, the "20/20" mix by Jon Casey is impeccable. Check out that 1:30 time stamp. "Spit That" by Chee has that groove and bass that keeps me wanting to come back for more. "Neptune" by Sam Gellaitry has an incredible groove in the second part that will have you bobbing your head, with that lush bass swirling around. You really can't go wrong with Mo Vibez either. "Hammer" by Tsuruda, "Deception" by Herzeloyde, and "React" by Chromonicci have that signature bounce that I love as well, I'm always scouting for bouncy songs. 
In terms of more hip-hoppy stuff, I'm gonna have to recommend Tek.lun's "Seshat". It has that bossa nova feel I've always loved, blended with hard-hitting drums. 
Drum and Bass! "Progression" by Flite. Anything by Dawn Wall. It's rolling and soulful. Speaking of soulful, soul! 
Tom Misch nails it every time, and I cannot recommend Gareth Donkin's track, "Catharsis" enough. It's beautiful. See for yourself. Classic rock, bossa nova... okay, should I just make a Spotify playlist for y'all? 
This could be too long. 
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/27nkDj0eqPrzOl2CLGNikJ?si=btVmbVLST5SOFRqSgDs6Fw Sophie - I love Sasha Marie mixes. I've found so many songs and artists through her soundcloud page. Give it a listen. Any up and coming releases we should keep a lookout for? Sylvie - Again, you'll see ;) 
Any Last Words? Sylvie - Yeah! An important part of my creative process and just, my life in general, are my amazing boyfriend and best friends, and my family, (yes, that includes my dog, of course). 
Just wanna give them a shoutout here. They're always cheering me on, and I'm absolutely so blessed to have them in my life. I cannot thank them enough. Sophie - Thanks so much for all this, truly blessed to be interviewed! Support Twin Nemesis Here: Soundcloud - https://soundcloud.com/twinnemesismusicofficial
Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/artist/0aSDNbyGRzbragp1DE9ZKk
Bandcamp - https://twinnemesis.bandcamp.com/ Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/twinnemesismusic/?hl=en
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goldngguk · 5 years
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red // 04
part one of trilogy series
warnings // fluffy cuteness
word count // 2.2k
trilogy masterlist
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Jeongguk
"Ok, care to explain whatever the hell that was?" Yoongi shut the door to the practice room once the boys were inside and crossed his arms over his chest. They all stopped and gathered in a circle around me.
"What?"
"Oh, you know. You. Giving Y/n the stare down of a lifetime at nine in the morning.
"Oh." I rubbed the back of my neck keeping my eyes on the ground. It's not that I was afraid of making eye contact with them, I just didn't feel like seeing the judgment when I didn't even know what it meant for myself. "That."
"Mmm. That. What exactly is that?" Shifting on my feet, I glanced up to see Namjoon giving me a look of pity. Before I could answer Yoongi, he spoke.
"Listen, Jungkook-ah. I don't know what you're thinking and even less what you're feeling, but I think you should be careful. I know you've heard it a thousand times, but there's a lot at stake here. If there were to be some sort of scandal--"
"Ok, woah. Wait. Who said anything about a scandal? I just met her and I think she's interesting, it didn't mean anything. Besides, aren't you the one who keeps telling us we need to get to know them? That's all I'm trying to do."
"There's a difference between getting to know someone and being creepy," Hobi giggled.
Sighing, I went to sit in my chair while we waited for the stylists. Namjoon followed and put his hands on my shoulders. "I'm not saying you're doing anything wrong. We just want you to be careful, no matter what happens. You know how people get when we interact with women, let alone any other artists."
"Yeah, I know. And I do understand what you're saying, I just don't think I should be getting lectured when nothing happened." Yet.
"You're right, Jungkook. I trust you and we won't bring it up again."
Taehyung snickered from his chair. "Yes you will, Joonie."
-
After finishing with my stylist I headed for the conference room to help set up.
"Oh hey, Busan." Y/n. She was sitting on a couch placed in the middle of the room where we would film the tour announcement. I took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
"What?" I laughed. "Busan?"
"I just gave you a nickname. Do you like it? I'm sure I could come up with something more creative soon. That was just the first thing that came to mind."
I sat down a couple of seats away from her. "I think I prefer what you called me last night. No one really calls me that." Ok, good. Off to a great start.
"What was that again?"
"Gguk. I like that." She smiled, nodding her head and making me curl my toes in my shoes. She could still make me feel nervous so easily. I cleared my throat and continued, "So gold, huh?"
"Hey, don't get a big head about it. I picked it first."
I squinted my eyes at her, turning my head slightly to signal my doubt. "I've been called the golden maknae for five years."
"Which makes you 15, then. I've been obsessed with gold since I was twelve years old, bud. You've got nothing on me." I snorted. This is going to be fun.
"Oh, so you're feisty now? I would've thought the competition would wait until we started filming for Run."
"But that wouldn't be any fun. Besides, you should get to know who I am now before I beat you at your own games."
Normally anybody talking that much game would spark something in me; a need to be better than them. The only thing I felt right now was a longing to be nearer to her. The games didn't matter if I couldn't know her. "I do want to know you."
Keeping my eyes on her, I watched for any sign of reaction; anything that would show me she was interested. Her lips parted while she breathed in and looked away, in need of a moment to collect herself before returning, "What do you want to know." Now she was the one being flustered.
Before I got the chance to answer, the crew came in followed by the whole of the members. "Maybe later," I whispered to her.
"Alright," PD entered. "Let's get to work."
-
The twelve of us sat together on a long couch waving at the camera as it clicked off. "Great job, everyone!" PD exclaimed with a clap of his hands. "We'll take this to editing right away. It should be posted by tonight."
I slumped back in my seat throwing my arms up to stretch. "That took forever to film," Yoongi said with a yawn. "I think it's time for a nap."
Hayden chuckled, "It's one in the afternoon."
"Which means we've been filming for two and a half hours. Break time."
PD laughed his big belly laugh. "Take your break, Yoongi. All of you. You've got the rest of the day off. I highly recommend you make use of it because once Run starts tomorrow, time off will be scarce, and it will only get busier from there." We all shared our thanks and he left with the crew to have the clips edited.
"Well, see you guys at dinner." Yoongi stood up and gave us a two-fingered salute. 
“Yeah, me too,” said Maya. “This jetlag is killing me. Waking up this morning was awful.” 
“Um, excuse me. At least you didn’t have your only source of heat ripped away from you,” Y/n scoffed. 
“I was hungry, and it worked, didn’t it?” 
Everyone else seemed to have a reason to leave and followed. My eyes followed Y/n as she rose from the couch. 
“What are your plans? I asked her. She pouted her lips, tilting her head to the side in thought. 
“I’m not sure. I might want to go wander around the city for a bit. Just to see what there is. You?”
I stood up and brushed my hands against my jeans before looking up at her. “I think I’ll join you.”
-
“You really didn’t have to come, Gguk,” Y/n said, tugging on her hoodie. 
I smiled at the sound of my new nickname falling from her lips. “It’s okay. To be honest, I don’t really get out of the dorms much. It’ll be good for me.”
“Ok, so where should we go first?” She pulled her arms up into the sleeves of her sweatshirt to make a set of sweater paws and pressed the button on the crosswalk. Adorable. 
“I don’t know, wherever you want. I’m just here to make sure you don’t get lost.”
“Are you assuming that I would?”
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“No, but that’s not the point. I’d figure it out,” she huffed. The light turned green and we crossed the street that passes the BigHit. “I guess we can just keep walking for a while.”
“Oh yeah, you know - just make a few turns here and there til were good and lost,” I smirked when she stopped to shoot me a glare from over her shoulder.
“You have no confidence in my skills.”
We continued to make our way down the avenue. “And what are said skills?” I asked.
“I can remember the street names. And I have my phone.”
“Your phone is not a skill.”
“Ok Mr. I never leave the dorms, how would you make it back without GPS?” I opened my mouth to answer only to close it again in defeat. She nodded her head in satisfaction, making me chuckle. “Come on," she grabbed my wrist and pulled me along behind her. Her hand, though soft on my skin, felt almost explosive. I swear I could visibly see the sparks of electricity emerging from the tips of her fingers. "Let's see if there's anywhere to eat." Stumbling on my feet behind her, I followed until we came across a small coffee shop. Just in time, as it had begun to rain.
"Hello," one of the baristas welcomed us. We ordered a couple of drinks and found a small table in the back corner to avoid being noticed.
"You like it strong, huh?" I nodded towards the large espresso she was sipping on. I took note of the way her feet swung underneath the table, just barely missing the floor. There was a substantial size difference between us; height and weight. I couldn't help but think of how easy it would be to pick her up and carry her around, or how perfectly her head would fit in the crook of my neck. I was so invested in my daydreams that I almost missed her answer.
"Depends on the day. I like sugary drinks too, but I really need an extra boost today. I'm so jetlagged."
"Is that gonna be your excuse for everything?"
"It might be! It was a fourteen-hour flight at 3 in the morning and we got here in the afternoon. My head feels like it's spinning and I don't think it's gonna stop."
I hummed my response and watched her face while she drank. I wanted to take in as much about her as I could. Her baby pink lips, the rosy dust that covered her cheeks, the deep color of her eyes. Everything. I don't know very many girls, but something about this particular one went way beyond beautiful. Maybe it was a connection through music or the fact that we could speak the same language. How can one person have such a strong effect on another?
We continued with small talk until we both finished our drinks and were ready to head back to the dorms. Approaching the door of the shop, we realized how heavy the rainfall had become. "There's no way we can make it back in this. I can't even see across the street."
"That's okay, we can just sit until it passes. Storms here usually go by pretty quickly." Sitting down again, I noticed a black shape on her wrist that I hadn't seen until she rolled up her sleeves. "What's that?"
She looked to where my eyes had been trained. "Oh." Turning her wrist towards me, I got a better look at the shape. "It's a star. I got it tattooed when I was 17."
"What's it for?"
"I think the sky is fascinating. I really like the stars - all those cheesy quotes about how nebulas have to blow up before they really shine. It's like a symbol for my story."
"I like that. That's cool. I've always wanted a tattoo, but I never had anything that important that I wanted on my skin permanently."
"I like to think that they can tell us stories. What a person has been through, the things they enjoy, what means the most to them. Someday, I want to have my story written somewhere important, whether it's a history book or just my body. It doesn't matter.
Watching her talk about her hopes and what she wanted out of life mad me ecstatic. Her eyes lit up and I could see the glimmer inside them. I wanted to keep that light. It was comforting and made me feel like I could do anything. I knew that I didn't know her well enough to tell her these things, but I wanted to so badly.
We talked for what seemed like an eternity, listening to the rain pour. She told me about her family; how close her and her siblings were. We talked about what our school years were like, and she laughed at my stories of randomly filling in test bubbles and dashing out of the classroom. She told me about her friends back home, her pets, how she and the others formed a band. I listened to her talk about her struggles, and she listened to mine. Never in my life had I felt so comfortable with someone so soon. I told her everything I could think of as a new topic sprang up, and I listened carefully to every detail she mentioned about herself. I studied her face every time she spoke about something she loved dearly. Her eyes were so radiant and bright. Have you ever seen someone talk about what's most important to them? It's exhilarating. We talked so long, I didn't notice the rain had stopped completely and the sun had set. It was one of those perfect conversations that carry on forever; you never stop to notice the world around you.
As I laid in bed that night, my thoughts raced back and forth until they finally reached a conclusion - a kind of understanding of these strange feelings I'd been having. Something was fueling my competitive nature. I had an innate desire burning inside my stomach that I was otherwise unfamiliar. It was like a game; a new challenge to win. I had to have her.
I rolled over to my side, pulling the blankets up to my shoulders. Filming for Run would begin tomorrow, which could only mean more quality time with Y/n. Oh, this is gonna be fun.
-
taglist // @darkdragonskies @kalisica
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thewidowstanton · 5 years
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Stav Meishar, multi-disciplinary performer and creator – The Escape Act: A Holocaust Memoir
Stav Meishar – a stage artist who mixes theatre, circus, music, dance, poetry and puppetry – was born and raised in Tel Aviv in Israel. She attended the Thelma Yellin High School of the Arts and has worked professionally as an actress since childhood, notably starring in Wicked’s original Israeli cast. 
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After moving to the US in 2008, Stav has performed internationally in Hebrew, English and Yiddish. In 2012 she founded Petit Mort Productions to provide an outlet for multi-disciplinary artists whose works are “innovative, unique and perhaps a bit strange”. In 2013, her play The Dreamer and the Acrobat ran at the NY Frigid Festival, and she made her circus debut on silks in the Off-Broadway revival of The Megile of Itzik Manger.
Stav is now based in Bristol and this month embarks on a UK tour of her solo show The Escape Act: A Holocaust Memoir, which is based on the life of Jewish-German circus artist Irene Danner. Stav chats to Liz Arratoon in the run-up to its UK premiere at Jacksons Lane in London on 23 September 2019.
The Widow Stanton: Is there any showbusiness in your background? Stav Meishar: Almost everybody in my family is in love with the arts but nobody else makes it. Everybody does other things around it. My mother is an arts critic, lecturer and guide. She knows everything there is to know about arts but when I asked her if she ever wanted to make any, she said: “Heavens, no!” My dad owns a business he funded… it’s kind of hard to explain but it’s like an archive of Israeli folk dancing. So ever since I was little whenever a new Israeli folk dance would be created, he’d get the choreographer and a bunch of volunteer dancers and videotape it, with instructions, so that enthusiasts around the world can learn how to dance.
How did you start performing so young? I’ve always loved attention [laughs]. There’s video tapes of me when I’m two or three years old doing, like, hand puppetry. Not with actual puppets, just with my hands. I think it was a Mr and a Mrs who met at a movie theatre and fell in love. It was always something I wanted and I used to scour the newspapers when I was little for audition notices. So when there was one for an Israeli production of Oliver Twist I figured, why not be an orphan? [Laughs]
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So you just auditioned and got the part? Yep! The production was first in Tel Aviv. There’s a big tradition in Israel on Hanukkah to have shows for the family because everyone’s off from school and the parents are going crazy trying to find something different for the kids. I was… 11, I think, and then the following year it toured all around Israel. I had a lovely time.
What happened about your schoolwork and all that boring stuff? If I remember correctly, the rehearsals were about a half-hour bus ride from my school and I had to get special permission to leave the last class a bit early, so that I could make it on time. All the kids were really mean to me about it: “Oh, you know, she’s hoity-toity with her rehearsals.” I’d rehearse every day and get home at about 7pm.
But being on tour… I think because Israel is so small it’s a bit different to what we think of as tours in the UK or US. There were about 50 kids in the cast so the production would hire a bus and I think there was at least one adult from the production with us.
Was the Thelma Yellin school like a Fame school or something? [Laughs] It’s pretty much what you imagine when you think of a performing arts school; a little bit like Fame. It’s a great school in Israel that still exists and has a great reputation. All the students have to be good at all the regular subjects. You can’t slack off in any of that but you also have to choose one of six artistic majors: theatre, classical music, jazz, cinema, visual arts and dance. So mine was theatre. I was there from 14 to 18.
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Why did you move to the US? I always wanted to be in musical theatre, and originally the dream was London. I got accepted at a few schools here but none of them had international scholarships. There was a lot of crying and sadness around that [laughs] and then I picked myself up by the bootstraps and figured, ‘Well, I’ve got to come up with a plan B’, and I got accepted to a musical theatre programme in New York at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy that did have quite a generous international student scholarship.
I worked my arse off for about two years saving every shekel I could and got some help from my parents as well, God bless them, and yes, I moved to the States and studied musical theatre. I graduated and worked in professional musical theatre in New York for about a year and then one day I woke up and realised, ‘I hate it!’. Not musical theatre, I still love that, but the business around it; how mean everybody is and how soul-crunching open calls are. I couldn’t do it anymore.
This crisis was in about 2010 and I was in a really dark place for a while and decided, ‘I’m just going to see as much theatre and performing arts as I can and see if I can get inspired by any of it, and take as many classes as I can in all kinds of different things’. So I took yoga, and I took Pilates and all kinds of stuff… and I took a silks class and uh… well… yeah, fell in love. [Laughs]
Where did you learn your circus skills? I trained for a long time at the Circus Warehouse in New York, which is a fantastic space with really high-level professional training. It’s not a university, it’s not accredited, but the level is super high and the coaches are all fantastic.
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I see also you play ukulele and do poi spinning… have you got anything else up your sleeve? I had a year or two of trying a bunch of different things. I still play the ukulele mostly for my own pleasure. I took a street show to the Edinburgh Fringe for a couple of years where I put together Shakepearean monologues with whatever was popular that day on MTV, on the ukulele. So Taming of the Shrew and how badly he treats her, how awful he is leading into  Bad Romance by Lady Gaga. That was fun for a little while.
Oh, and poi spinning… I do a lot of things none of them in any way as professional as I do theatre. You can’t do too many things well. You do a lot, you end up being OK at most of them. I’m skilled in a lot of things but wouldn’t consider myself expert in all of them. Theatre is where I’m most confident… history, specifically World War II history is something I’m very confident in, and Jewish education is something I feel an expert on. Circus is always a tricky thing because I’ve been doing it long but I have never done it with enough… let’s put it that way, I started late and I’m lazy.
Have you done stuff at Circomedia, being in Bristol? Yeah, I just did one year full time there, basically shadowing their foundation degree students doing all the practical stuff but none of the academic stuff, because I already have my degree. It sounds much more than I’m capable of. Yes, I just graduated from a full-time programme; I’m still pretty shit at circus but I never intended, like, I don’t market myself as an acrobat. I’m a multidisciplinary artist who has a lot of tools and because this current project is about a circus artist, I had to have some circus skills thrown into the melting pot of the show, but I’ve been really adamant with everybody where I’m performing, don’t market it as circus show or people will be really disappointed. It’s a theatre show. It has puppetry, it has circus but I’m no more a circus acrobat than I am a puppet master.
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So let’s talk about The Escape Act. How did it come about? It was completely random. I started my Jewish education company, Dreamcoat Experience, and our niche, so to speak, was teaching progressive Jewish education using performing arts: drama, music, puppets, thing like that, and I started weaving circus methods into our curriculum. I was curious if anyone had done that before and I went to Google and I typed in ‘Circus Jews’ and one of the first things to come up was the New York Times obituary for Adolf Althoff, the German circus owner who saved this Jewish family. I just remember reading it and my jaw dropping to the floor going, ‘How is there not a movie about this?’. It was incredible. I just started going into this Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole from which I never emerged.
You’ve written about Irene Danner’s story for Circus Talk, but give us a brief outline of her story. In seven years of research, I uncovered a lot and it’s a big story. The short of it is, Irene, born Danner, was a descendent of the Lorch family, Jewish Circus royalty; they were the most famous Risley act of their time. They performed with the Ringling Brothers in America, they went on tour with Circus Sarrasani in South America, they really were the celebs of their time. The circus closed when she was about seven years old; they went bankrupt around 1930 with the rise of anti-semitism and people not really wanting to see ‘the Jew circus’ anymore.
Irene trained as a acrobat from when she was little and got her first job when she was 13, with Circus Busch. She was the flyer for the horse-riding troupe The Carolis and was there for three years until the law changed and Jews weren’t allowed to work anymore. About three years later she went to see the Circus Althoff and fell in love with their clown, Peter Bento. Peter asked Adolf if he would give her a job. Adolf knew it wasn’t legal but he didn’t really give a shit, excuse the language. That’s his, not mine. She was not allowed to marry Peter because of the racial laws of the time but they had two kids during the war and three more afterwards.
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At some point when the Jews were starting to get deported, she persuaded Mr Althoff to let her family join as well; so her sister and her parents, and all four of them survived the war. Other members of her family didn’t make it. If you visit their house there are a few stumbling stones outside for all those who perished. The idea is that you shouldn’t just be reminded of the Holocaust when you decide to be by going to a memorial, but that you stumble upon them.
The Escape Act is as faithful to the story as I could make it but I took some artistic liberties. For example, she joined the Althoff circus because she fell in love, but in the show I’ve made it that she joins because she misses performing and she wants to do what she loves. It’s a bit of a feminist twist; she’s making her own path.
So in the show, you’re doing a bit of trapeze and juggling but it’s a theatre show? It is definitely a theatre show. It’s quite text heavy.
How did you go about your research? I started at the Yad Vashem Museum – the big Holocaust museum in Israel – because the obit mentioned that Adolf Althoff and his wife Maria, had received the honour of the title ‘The Righteous Among the Nations’ from Yad Vashem, which is a special sort of order, I guess, for Gentiles who saved Jews during World War II. As they’d given them this honour I assumed they’d have files on them and indeed they had.
They had interviews with both Adolf and Irene… photos… and then I just started visiting museums, archives, libraries, just picking information wherever I could, speaking to whoever I could. I wish I spoke German; my research would have been so much better. A lot of my info came from a wonderful book called Jewish Identities in German Popular Entertainment. It’s the only English book available that talks about circus performers in Germany during that era. Of course I looked at the bibliography and saw where I could branch off from there.
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One of the books I got in German is this tiny little book that’s all interviews and testimonies from Irene, her husband, Adolf, basically everybody involved. I crowd-sourced the translation. I just reached out on Facebook and got something like ten German speakers to translate two chapters each voluntarily. So I got the whole book translated out of the goodness of their hearts. One of my favourite things described was the friendship that Irene and her husband had with a Moroccan acrobat called Mohammed; Muslim, of course, and being Jewish, I was like, yes, Jewish/Muslim friendship, yay! He was their best friend during the war and he helped hide them, he protected them, they were really each other’s backbone.
Years later when I went to Irene’s town and interviewed her kids, who are now in their seventies, I asked them if they were still in touch with any of the saviours. Her eldest son was like: “Ja, ja, we still speak, Christmas cards, birthday cards, but the one we are really in touch with, we speak every week on the phone, is Uncle Momo.” It just took me a second… I’m like, ‘Do you mean Mohammed?’. He goes: “Yes, yes, he lives in Tangier now.” ‘I’m sorry, is he still alive?’. “Yes, he just celebrated his 94th birthday.”
It was just incredible! So here I am in a living room in Germany, learning that there’s one person still alive from that era, and here’s the real amazing thing… this was in May and in June my husband and I were booked on our honeymoon, guess where? Morocco! That was incredibly random. It was meant to be. I told Irene’s son, ‘It so happens we’re going to Morocco. Will you please connect me with Mohammed?’. So a few weeks later, there we were in his living room in Tangier.
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What does it mean to you to be performing the show in Germany on the anniversary of Kristallnacht? I think I’m actually more terrified than honoured, because her kids are probably going to be there and I’m so terrified that they’ll be angry at me for making changes. That’s my own demons and whatnot. I think as an artist it’s something of a trait to imagine a worst-case scenario. It’s something we do to ourselves but I’m sure it will a wonderful experience and hopefully her kids will love it. I did ask for their blessing and they gave it to me.
But just talking to you I get emotional about bringing the show on Kristallnacht because this is where it all took place. Even when I visited there last year it was really emotionally difficult to be in that synagogue where I know Kristallnacht happened, and to be in the family’s home where I know Irene saw her own grandmother being snatched away. In those places there’s a visceral element to being in the spot where it happened. Like visiting Auschwitz is different than reading about it. And there is a scene in the show that takes place on Kristallnacht, so to be at the synagogue where it actually happened, in the town where it actually happened, in front of that family, I mean, it’s… ahh! It’s an incredible gift that they’ve given me to invite me to do my show there.
Do you feel, with the rise of the far right, that your show is even more relevant now and it’s even more important that people should hear this story? Yes, absolutely. It’s been in my mind ever since I started researching this history, and every time I think it’s going to become less relevant, it has to get better from here, it doesn’t. It’s getting worse. Every historian has this feeling of helplessness where you see history repeating itself and yet people do it anyway. Even with Germany and all that history, when I talk politics to people, they’re like: “Oh, but it’s getting better now. Gays have the right to marry, trans people are accepted.” But if you look at history, the Weimar Republic happened right before the Nazi regime. They had, like, the biggest gay parties, they had cross-dressers, they had cabarets, they had this amazing period of artistic and sexual liberation and then this happened. I’m not sure that an improvement necessarily says an upward motion.
When I first starting working on the show the thing I really kept thinking about was how the Holocaust was taught to me. Growing up in Israel it’s a big subject in our curriculum. We study it, I dare say, a bit too early, but one of the most powerful experiences that I had growing up and that I saw as a Jewish educator in America is that schools would bring survivors to tell their stories first hand. And that’s always been for me and my students the most powerful experience, more than watching movies, more than seeing pictures of naked skinny bodies. Just having a person there telling you this is what happened, this is what they did to me, to my sister, to my parents, it’s different. And it’s a resource that’s not going to be available forever. Survivors are dying out and the thought that led me in this work is, ‘OK, what experience can I create that would get as close to a first-hand telling as possible?’.
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I’d like to think this show is a good alternative. It’s not perfect, it’s never going to replicate that, but telling a story in the first person as if it were my story and taking those moments of stepping away from the character, and being myself and telling my own experiences, more about the after-effects it has, I think that’s powerful for everyone. What’s it like for someone who is descendent of refugees from a genocide? How does that affect you? Here’s this person who was never in the camps, who never starved and who had a pretty cushy, privileged life and yet there’s this scar that was her inheritance, and it’s never going to go away.
Would you say this show is the highlight of your career so far? It’s definitely the most ambitious project I’ve taken. I’ve been a performer for most of my life but I’ve always interpreted other people’s work. That’s what actors do, and this is not the first time I’m doing my own project but it’s the first time I’m doing, first of all a project that I’ve vested so much time and effort in, but it’s also the first project that has autobiographical elements. So the show I would say is 95 per cent Irene’s story but the rest is me and my history.
The way it’s structured is when there are points when her experiences sort of trigger my own memories growing up, I take a step out of Irene and become myself, the house lights go up and I talk to the audience about my own experiences. It’s a wonderful thing as an artist to be able to share that sort of vulnerability with an audience, and it’s absolutely terrifying and it’s difficult. It’s so raw and it’s weird because those things haven’t happened to me. I’m telling the stories of my ancestors and still, yeah, it’s right there in the really innermost parts.
vimeo
Stav Meishar performs The Escape Act: A Holocaust Memoir at Jacksons Lane in London on 23 and 24 September 2019, before a UK tour.
Picture credits: Michael Blase; Asaf Sagi; Kati Rapia: Shirin Tinati: Gilad Kfir
For Jacksons Lane tickets, click here 
For tour dates, click here
Stav’s website
Twitter: @stavmeishar
Follow @TheWidowStanton on Twitter
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redblackspade · 5 years
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What's gonna happen if a psychologist would make a video game?
I was interested in psychology even at school, and not for typical reasons: I was not motivated by the desire to deal with my own “demons” or to understand people around me. At the age of 17, I went to programmers university preparatory courses. There I was surrounded by guys in knitted sweaters and with virgin moustaches on thoughtful faces. The next day I was brought to courses in a pedagogical university, where I was the only guy in the audience. Young girls all around me, and the audience full of fragrant scents of women's perfumes. Stunned by what I saw, I confidently decided to study in this paradise.That’s how I began to break my life.The answer is psychedelic metroidvania where you play as a phobia.
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Hello everybody, my name is Slava, I’m from Russia, and I am preparing the release of the third game that I made almost alone: music is the only piece I’m not responsible for. I make everything else myself. Having only a master’s degree in psychology, I dived into game development five years ago. I think it’s worth explaining a little about how it happened to bring a better understanding of what is going on in here. A small introduction will help to adequately perceive everything that jumps and flashes in the recently published trailer:
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I was interested in psychology even at school, and not for typical reasons: I was not motivated by the desire to deal with my own “demons” or to understand people around me. At the age of 17, I went to programmers university preparatory courses. There I was surrounded by guys in knitted sweaters and with virgin moustaches on thoughtful faces. The next day I was brought to courses in a pedagogical university, where I was the only guy in the audience. Young girls all around me, and the audience full of fragrant scents of women's perfumes. Stunned by what I saw, I confidently decided to study in this paradise.
That’s how I began to break my life.
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In my “career” of a psychologist, the most reasonable decisions were: to drop dropping the psychology to hell; silently leaving graduate school; retirement from a kind of a foster home, where I worked for three years after graduating from the magistracy and fully  devoting myself to game development.
I made these decisions not because I wasn’t interested in psychology anymore - on the contrary, while I was studying, I began to penetrate the structure of human minds. However, this profession did not allow me to express myself creatively. I always wanted other people to enjoy the worlds that were born in my mind. Knowledge of psychology helped in building my own life and in creating fictional characters, but it’s difficult to call it a high-paying profession in Russia. It would be possible to strive to open my office, but my heart wasn’t in it, and I’ve chosen another way.
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Job in a social institution forced to constantly look for a part-time work. Although I enjoyed spending time with children from difficult families, moving from my parents and meeting with my “second half” forced me to earn a little more than I used to. The payments in social  institutions in Russia are very-very low. I couldn’t do anything except digging in people’s minds with a bottle of whiskey, but I was familiar with Photoshop. I knew how to draw using Macromedia Flash, so I decided to find ways to apply these skills.
And I found it. People often look for artists on the game development forums, and those who had a severely limited budget doesn’t need particularly luxurious graphics - I could easily draw a pair of sprites for 5 euros. My desire to get at least some money helped me to improve my drawing skills. I really didn’t know how to draw. I simply drew and redrew everything until it satisfied the “customer”.
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That’s what I used to draw back then. 
A year later, I realised that I could completely create graphics for my own game. I only needed to find money for a programmer. The whole thing was in the distant 2014th year, and nobody was aware of the coming “indie apocalypse”. The games were coming out at a crazy oace, and the tools for creating them became easier and more accessible. I saw that artists are no less in demand than programmers, and came to the conclusion that if I had improved my drawing skills to a level allowed me to create a whole game in two years, then how long would it take me to learn to code too?
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It took no time at all. I installed Construct 2 and things rushed. Two years later, my first game came out: Reflection of Mine. It was a dark and hardcore puzzle about a girl with multiple personality syndrome. I chose this topic because I wanted to use all my knowledge and skills in this project, and by that time I was the most advanced in psychology. And the engine...
Almost nobody takes Construct 2 seriously. This is an engine for creating two-dimensional HTML5 games, but when I started working with it, I didn’t even know what HTML5 is. I saw that dragging the windows in C2 produces quite a working “exe” file, the launch of which opens the doors for people to the world invented by me and introduces to the characters invented by me. What else do I need?
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I still do not know. The games that I created with Construct 2 work! They are played by thousands of people around the world, and all the difficulties and bugs that some players suffered from were caused not by a “crooked engine”, but by my own hands. I didn’t face any problem that I could not fix in the future. Also I didn’t see any 2D-game mechanic that I could not recreate with Construct 2.
Now, however, the engine is dying, Construct 3, in my opinion, is horrible, and since the company making this product is moving into the abyss, at some point I will remove Construct 2 from my PC forever.
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So what am I working on now? Fearmonium is a psychedelic metroidvania, where the player takes under control an unpleasant memory, seeking to become a phobia. The visual style is not inspired by the game Cuphead. To be honest, I’m not a big fan at all - the eternal battles with bosses are more tiring than pleasing to me. But still, I admit that this is a great game. I’m just a fan of exploration and I suffered from lack of it in there. Cuphead's visual style emerged from the twentieth-century classic animation, and my inspiration grows from there too.
However, I have never been a fan of the drooling intensity of short cartoon films about Mickey Mouse and Betty Boop. Although I was fascinated by the frame-by-frame animation in these creations, I never found them inspiring. And just before working on Fearmonium, I understood why: it was all about the music.
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I saw several unofficial videos of the musician named GHOSTEMANE - the authors took cuts from the cartoons of the first half of the twentieth century, put some camera shake and glitches on it and mixed them with aggressive and dark music, reminiscent of my beloved Witch house. This setting hooked me up. I chose a dark palette, a dark plot, dressed it all in the style of old cartoons and began to work.
The very procedure for bringing the game to its current state was as follows: in about two months I created a small demo version, where I had already chosen the visual style and gameplay. In February, I presented it at the White Nights conference in Berlin to look at the reaction of the players and to understand whether I was moving in the right direction. It turned out that in the right one.
From February to this day, I worked specifically on the trailer, and, frankly speaking, I turned the project file into complete chaos from broken levels and a real mess from objects called sprite1, sprite2, sprite100, but order was never my thing, and I'm sure I’ll get away with this.
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Phobias aren’t growing from the void. Most often they are born from disturbing memories and bloom on the “compost” of negative states. The memory can be perceived by us as worrisome even without any obvious unpleasant factors: a person can see a clown or a spider under absolutely normal (seemingly) conditions, but these images are so firmly stuck into his head that it can transform into a serious neurosis. The unconscious will take care of this.
Fearmonium begins with a story about a fair where a boy named Jimmy saw clowns, and although he didn’t like them very much, he didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night from their appearance in his dream. Sleep has an important function of “squashing down” memories of the past day. Things we saw during the day affect the things that we will see while we sleep. A person doesn’t store memories in the form of text files or photographs, they don’t even look like a movie: we think in “images”. And how one or another image is treated depends only on the person. Absolutely same images can mean very different things to different people.
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Bright images, seen by Jimmy at the fair, became his "protectors" when player converted his dream into a nightmare. That is why the first enemies we met were all that he liked from the  previous day.
Interaction with enemies is not limited to waving a hammer. Two properties of phobias are involved in the battle with memories. First: neuroses affect the images in our memories. A “patient” suffering from a phobia will hardly be sure whether he saw a spider or a clown a year ago. It will seem to him that the subject of his fear was always somewhere near.
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Secondly the phobia is not related to a specific item, it relates to a whole class of items. All that is associated with clowns becomes painful for Jimmy. People who are afraid of spiders will not divide them into types and panic from the appearance of some specific spider, they will be frightened by everything that their minds connect with spiders.
In this way, we “fake” Jimmy’s memories by turning enemies into balloons that Jimmy strongly associates with clowns. Where there was something light in his memory — bam — and a balloon appears.
In addition, we will meet other clowns in the memories of Jimmy that the boy has seen in throughout his life, and take them into our "army", using these memories as weapons against bright images.
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But the very purpose of the game is not to drive poor Jimmy crazy. A phobia is not always as destructive as it may seem, and this is the main idea that I want to convey.
Neurosis doesn’t appear from a good emotional state. Stress, constant anxiety - a great “compost” for depression and phobias. Jimmy's life is not wonderful at all. His consciousness was already a chaos before our appearance. I will not go into the details of his life that drove Jimmy into the abyss of misfortunes, but I will say that in his situation, no one except Jimmy himself can save the situation.
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And one of the features of phobias: the displacement of the objective fears. And "objective" does not mean "reasonable." For example, being late to school is an objective fear, but even such a minor phenomenon can be accompanied by an absurd amount of stress. Our indecision is often caused by the ridiculous amount of experience over trifles, which are perceived as something very important. With the presence of a real, severe neurosis, trifles are again turned into trifles, and only clowns seem to be a serious threat.
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I briefly retold some things that I reveal through Fearmonium. The plot will affect the nature of depression, and standard methods of protection against neurosis, and a bunch of things that I caught at lectures at the university. But I remember an important rule - the best story in the game is the one that can be ignored. Fearmonium may well attract someone with funny pictures and dynamic gameplay, but scare off with its internal seriousness. So, in the game it will be impossible to get confused even if you don’t get a grasp of all the subtleties of human consciousness, and the “educational” part of the game is purely optional.
 I believe that games can say more than “click on X to win”, and I try to develop this idea.
Don’t forget to add Fearmonium to your wishlist!
https://store.steampowered.com/app/1068360/Fearmonium/
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freakflagbyiana · 5 years
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Why “David Bowie is god”
As my site turns one year old today, which is also David Bowie’s birthday, I thought I’d try to begin to explain the importance David Bowie has in my personal life and the effect he had, continues to have, on my career.
Childhood influence
My parents had fairly different musical tastes but the one major thing that overlapped was they were both David Bowie fans. My mom was also a Jim Henson fan so I grew up watching Labyrinth with her. I remember it was out of print for a long time and I was the only kid in the neighborhood with a copy that had been taped off of HBO. As a kid I remember being in love with Jareth’s hair itself, asking Mom if I could make my hair do that one day. She replied “Sweetie, that’s a wig, not his real hair” and it was the dream-shattering equivalent of learning that there was no Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, and Tooth Fairy all rolled up into one. As a goth teenager I really got into his freaky Ziggy era, finding the idea of being an alien heavily relatable. And when I discovered BowieNet when I was 17, to my surprise my parents agreed to pay my annual subscription... It was $70. I think most parents would be like “Your message board fanclub costs how much? HAH! No.” I won’t go into grave detail of my BowieNet life here, because I could write an entire book, but I’ll summarize it. It began in 1996, and behind the pay wall was lots of exclusive bonus content, access to concert presales and bnet-only events, exclusive chatroom Q&As, and a very active message board. This was before Twitter, before Instagram, before Myspace, definitely before Facebook. David Bowie basically created social media as the everyday form we recognize today. He didn’t post all the time but I would still consider him very active on the message board, for a busy top tier celebrity. His username was “sailor” although there were always whispers about his other secret accounts that he used for trolling. So he basically invented trolling, too. The community itself was close, there were always local meetups and many members would travel internationally to see their closest bnet friends, eventually including myself. I joined this community when I was still in high school and 17 years later I am still close to the friends I made back then. These people are my family, and they vary from all nations, all walks of life, all classes, all ages... The first time I met any of them was at my first ever Bowie concert and that itself was a bnet members-only show to launch the Reality tour, which was eventually known as his last tour. This pivotal moment in my life occurred on August 19th 2003 at the The Chance Theater in Poughkeepsie NY. It was a small general admission venue, arguably a dive compared to the arenas he would play on the rest of the Reality tour. I was 18 years old and was in the process of moving to Chicago for art school. It was surreal to be seeing my first Bowie concert in a GA venue, and yet I knew 80% of the audience. David Bowie himself knew 100% of the audience, and you can hear him speaking to specific people in the bootlegs. I knew more people in the audience than I knew in my high school of 60 kids. A bunch of us were waiting at the venue early enough to catch him coming out to say hello while they were doing soundcheck. I didn’t get anything signed because all the members he knew by name were up in the very front of the group, as it should be. But I could still observe him from afar. He was dressed simply in a crisp white tshirt and white jeans, so the bright summer sunshine gave him a literally radiant, angelic glow. I’ll never forget his slinky catlike walk, and I’ve since never witnessed a creature with more grace.
Lessons I learned from Him
Freakflag began when my last salon closed, suddenly, due to #Austinproblems. As a fantasy color specialist, what I do is so specialized that not many places are going to do it well. The most stable environment for it, on short notice, is a mini salon.  As a hairstylist, this makes sense.  As an artist, this was (still is) terrifying.  I have literally painted myself into a corner where I am my own microcosm, a terrarium of rare creatures emerging covered in sunset locks and lavender hairdust...  None of this would have been possible without David Bowie. I very sincerely celebrate him as a god of my profession. For I am a witch and my profession is transformation magic. In many ways it is the magic of one’s true form, their true Identity. For example, I have many transgender clients who visit me in the early stages of their personal transformation. Sometimes they know what they want but a lot of times they don’t. I accept this task with great reverence for the importance of what I’m being asked to do. If they are not completely comfortable with the hair I’ve given them, it’s more than “a bad haircut will grow out if you don’t like it” - it can shape their confidence and that shapes the way people treat them. David Bowie is the Patron Saint of No Labels & Don’t Tell Me What To Do. The Patron Saint of the Gender Fluid & the Non-Binary. His iconic Ziggy Stardust mullet is the perfect example as to why I don’t attribute gender to my haircuts. Tell me, is a Ziggy mullet a men’s haircut or a women’s haircut? The answer is Yes. He taught me you can walk around with no eyebrows, a pale skeletal alien, and still feel your oats. It doesn’t matter if people “get it” because you “get it.” And you are the only person that really needs to “get it.” This is the lesson of aesthetic integrity. He taught me the importance of artistic integrity. At times he was a starving artist that created beautiful, profound things that no one quite understood or appreciated. But eventually he had a period of being a sellout that pandered to the crowd; it made him so sick of China Girl that he didn’t play it live for years after. I think it’s the period after this, from the 90s onward, where he found his true creative power. He knew he could achieve either end of the spectrum and balanced on that line thereafter. Blackstar being his best achievement in this regard. He taught me you can find your truest love later in life. Many goths say they aspire to a love like Morticia & Gomez, but I aspire to a love like Iman & David. Theirs is a real life love story that endured, and it didn’t happen overnight, she made him work for it! This is the big one... He saved me from flirting with suicide. I could write a lot about this too but I won’t right now. Here are the broadest strokes: As a sensitive, emotionally neglected, eccentric teenager I listened to a lot of angry music; Punk, Goth, Industrial, etc. The summer of age 16 was a tough one, I had been kicked out of one parent’s house and the other one completely left me to my own devices... So when I began flirting with self harm, the only person that noticed and snapped me out of it was a close school friend whom I will always consider a brother. This was about the time I discovered Bowie’s glamorous Ziggy era and it was the first thing that showed me “Truth, Goodness & Beauty” in my darkest hour. He showed me that being a great artist took time to cultivate your skills and not only would suicide mean I was achieving nothing, but self harm was a weakness that would eventually fester and I had to nip it in the bud. Bowie’s brother suffered from schizophrenia and eventually committed suicide so many of his works touch on the theme of your own worst enemy coming from within. A lot of goth music discusses it too, warning against rather than encouraging, but no one can make something relatable quite like Bowie. (For the record, a lot of that angry music is still my favorite! It has its place in the world) A lot of rock stars drank and drugged their way into an early grave but David Bowie was the one that survived and still managed to stay artistically and culturally relevant in the end. This is the main reason I celebrate him as a role model and a god amongst men. If he survived the 70s, made a clear decision to sober up, and could maintain sobriety throughout the 80s, he could achieve anything.
“Just a mortal with the potential of a superman” David Bowie, Quicksand
How I celebrate Him
For the last four years, I’ve been a DJ at Elysium’s New Year’s Eve party, a Labyrinth-themed Goblin King’s ball. And for the last three, I’ve co-hosted as Jareth himself... which means I’ve achieved my childhood dream of wanting to be Jareth with that fabulous hair and bedazzled tailcoat! This prepares me perfectly for celebrating his life a week later. There are a few “Bowie Weekend” events here in town. Drinks Lounge always has a Bowie Birthday Bash and Elysium usually has an 80’s night tribute or some other event in his honor. Then on the day itself I will take the time to clean my Bowie Shrine and think about all the times he helped me get out of a bad place in my life. Here you can see Instagram highlights of my Bowie Shrine. A few months ago, I got to work on a truly special project that is still super secret. But I can say that it involved recreating a famous David Bowie image and it was a great honor to be asked to do the makeup and hairstyling for this. It took all day, longer than expected, and we got about 300 shots... This weekend we got together again to edit them and in the end only 3 shots were picked. I can only imagine the process for the original shoot! I thought I was just invited along to edit because I was a Bowie nerd that wanted to be there and was ridiculously stoked on this project. But I was grateful to witness us work together as group on this tribute in its entirety, the three of us are perfectionists and we all had high standards but we also had methods of editing our standards for the sake of being practical. Unlike the shoot itself, this time a lot of discussion was had on the different elements that composed the original image and all three of us paid great attention to those details in the recreation. None of us expect to profit from it, this was hours of work that we each volunteered out of love of the art form, and reverence for David Bowie himself. The role I played in this image is a minor one compared to the other two people involved, but I am so terribly proud of us. I think He would be, too. Since I can’t post that image, I will instead leave you with my Aladdin Sane selfie tribute from this weekend:
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aaronmascoll · 6 years
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Chapter 13 - Jackson
It took all of one hour for Jackson to be crowned the warriors new king. There were only four warriors here that he actually had to fight. First was a kid of eighteen named Vegas. Jones told Jackson that Vegas grew up in a post-apocalyptic world riddled with zombies. His weapon was a small one handed katana. Before Jackson fought him, he made the decision not to use his sword. For someone reason he felt he wouldn't need it. He unhooked it from his belt and handed it, and his coat to an attendant assigned to him. He kept his daggers, just in case. The women wearing the apron gave him a slight curtsey then went and stood by the entrance.
Vegas was quick, even though he wasn't skilled with his sword, and he also wasn't a very good martial artist. Every time Jackson swung, Vegas seemed to move almost instantaneously just before he countered. Jackson was only able to hit Vegas when he attacked first and Jackson parried his attacks. It didnt take long for Jackson to realize that Vegas was somehow able to react to all of Jackson's attacks if he attacked first. So he stopped attacking, and Vegas forfeited realizing he couldn't beat Jackson otherwise.
The second, a samurai by the name of Bakuto. Jones informed Jackson that Bakuto grew up on an earth where dinosaurs never went extinct. She also said that he once cut a mountain in half, using an invisible sword that cut through everything, during a windstorm. After a small breeze blew by, Bakuto took his first swing at Jackson's neck, and Jackson knew almost instantly that Bakuto's sword had no actual blade, it was wind he was using as a sword. So when the wind stopped, Jackson told him how figured out his secret, and Bakuto forfeited and congratulated Jackson on figuring it out.
The third warrior was boy only eight-years-old. "You gotta be kidding me?" Jackson said to Jones.
"Oh yeah!" Jones said excitedly. "Just be careful. That kid can snap you in half with his pinky fingers."
"What?" Jackson looked at the kid again. He had pale skin, short brown hair, wore a pair of green cargo pants, tactical boots, a metal plated chest piece, and a black leather jacket. "How strong is he?"
"I just told you. He can literally snap you in half with his pinky fingers." Jackson watched as kid started doing stretches. "Apparently, he's supposed the son of a dragon. And I wouldn't put it past him, because that little bastard sure as hell has a temper like one."
"Really?"
"Yeah, you trying be eight for the past fifteen hundred years." Jones slapped Jackson on the back. "You got this," she said encouragingly before walking away.
The moment someone gave the signal, the kid rushed across the arena faster than anything Jackson had ever seen before. Jackson had barely enough time dodge the kid's uppercut. When he dodged another, Jackson felt a shockwave blow past him, and stumbled backwards. Jackson walked forward and threw a kick, but regretted it instantly as the kid didn't dodge it, but caught it. The next thing Jackson knew, he was flying upward, then something slammed into his chest and sent him plummeting towards the ground.
When Jackson hit the ground all the air left his lungs. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't catch his breath. It wasn't till he forced his body to stand up, that he caught his breath. When he was standing up right, there was a shooting pain in his back whenever he tried to move. But he wasn't done. He was still standing, and if he could stand then he hadn't lost yet. Jackson put his right hand behind his back and rested it on one of his daggers, with his left hand he beckoned the kid forward. The kid snarled and got low to the ground in strance that was similar to a track runner. This time when he charged, Jackson took a move from the kid's own playbook. He caught the right hook the kid aimed at his gut and brought his dagger up to the kid's throat. "I forfeit!" The kid yelled.
The crowd erupted In a deafening roar of cheers, laughter, and hooting. "Name's Galaxy," the kid said stretching his hand out.
The crowd began to chant Jackson's name as he shook Galaxy's hand. "I would tell you mine, but I'm gonna assume you already know it," Jackson said with a shrug.
"How's the arm?"
"It's fine," Jackson lied. The pain was excruciating. Not only had Galaxy dislocated his shoulder, but Jackson was sure the bones in his hand and wrist were completely shattered. Maybe even his elbow.
"Have a seat. I'll set your should back into place." Jackson sat down and Galaxy set Jackson shoulder back into place without so much as warning. "I was pulling my punches, but It's still kinda hard fighting someone that's just been turned a champion. Did they explain about the whole immortality thing on the way here?"
"Yeah, Jones said something about my energy activating."
"Yeah, now that you're immortal the anomali energy from your soul is gonna start filling your body like an empty cup. It like your body's a battery that's been dead the whole time, and now that's its finally charging, the shit is gonna go nuclear."
"Nuclear how?" Jackson asked standing up.
"Stronger, faster, heightened senses except for pain, your bones won't break as easily. Just about everything."
"Sounds like fun." Jackson looked at Galaxy again. He might have the body of an eight year old, but he could hear the age in voice. "Were you really pulling your punches?"
"Of course! You couldn't beat anyone here if we'd actually put an effort into it. The king wants these fights to be about pure skill, not strength. Give it a couple days and I'll fight you again." Galaxy held his fist up.
"Definitely," Jackson said bumping his good hand against Galaxy's.
"Oh, and you better have some tricks up your sleeves if you're gonna beat Jones."
"I have to fight Jones too?"
"Who did you think was the best fighter here at Stronghold?"
"King Milhouse?"
"Yes, and Jones can't be beat by anyone except the king himself. She's not as strong as me, but she is a hundred times faster than I am. That is, when she's trying. But, she'll be fighting at your speed, so do your best not to get cleaved in two by her axe."
Galaxy started to walk away, but Jackson had one more question to ask. "Hey Galaxy! Are you really-"
"What," he said turning around. "Son of a dragon?" Jackson nodded. "Yep. Dad had sex with a dragon. The shit people do when they're drunk is hilarious."
The crown was still cheering long after Galaxy had left. Jackson waited as his hand and wrist began to swell to the point where he couldn't move either of them. The crowd suddenly seemed to split, half chanted Jackson's, and the other half chanted Jones's. Jackson stared at the entrance as Jones entered. She was wearing red plate armor, but her arms were bare except for a single gold bracelet she place on her right wrist. Before she put it on, Jackson caught a glimpse of a large red crystal embedded in her skin. The veins in her arm, just around the crystal, pulsed with and unknown red power. Behind her two of the servant girls trudged after her carrying a unbelievably large battle axe. The axe head itself was as big as a car door, and the shaft must've been eight feet long. With one hand, Jones picked up the axe and began to twirl it around effortlessly. Small rocks and loose clumps of dirt were blown away by the force of air caused be her swinging the axe. "Don't chicken out now," Jones said as she spun the axe behind her back.
Jackson smiled back. The crowds chanting started to die as the bell to begin the fight was rung. Jones Jones took a couple steps towards Jackson and stopped. "We have a healer that can fix your arm," Jones said pointing back at Stronghold. "I don't mind waiting."
"It's fine!" Jackson said as he charged at Jones.
In a quick second, Jones opened up with a huge two handed swing that Jackson easily ducked under. Jackson was going to end things quickly by giving Jones a quick cut the back of the knee, one of the weak points in plate armor, but before he could strike, he found himself stopped by a long fingered hand around his neck. Jones picked him up, and threw him across the arena like she was skipping a rock. "I gave you a freebie just to see how'd you'd react," Jones planting the butt of her axe into the ground. "It wont happen again."
Jackson stood up and tried to figure out how to beat her. Her axe wasn't just for show, her swings may be big, but they were quick and precise, and she knew compensate for its flaws. The fact that she was holding back so much of her power didnt help Jackson's confidence in his ability to win this seemingly one sided fight. One sided? Jackson thought about how all his fights were one sided until he found the one flaw in their attack patterns. These guys weren't just seasoned warriors, they were immortal. Who knows how long they've had to overcome their own flaws. "All of you are letting me win aren't you?"
"Oh really?" Jones said puzzled. "Whatever gave you that assumption?"
"Bakuto actually," Jackson said as walked closer to Jones. "I figure, if he used his own breath to make his sword he wouldn't need to wait for the wind to blow."
"You're right, he doesn't need the wind to use his sword."
"And Vegas has to have some sort of training with reflexes like that. The only one I really had to fight was Galaxy, but his attacks were so full of holes, I'm gonna assume he doesn't actually fight like that."
"Vegas is very good with his sword," Jones said pleased. "And Galaxy is unmatched with a spear in hands, But what about me?"
"What happens if I separate that crystal from your arm?"
Jones smiled for a long time. She then turned towards the crowd and said, "Oh he's good."
Jones exited the arena and from where she was looking, King Milhouse emerged. He stood up from a seat that looked like any other, and began deciding down the stairs in the middle of the stands. The crowd didn't chant his name, they didnt make a sound. They merely waited for the outcome.
When King Milhouse finally stepped on the arena ground, Jackson felt the ground begin to buzz with energy. The closer he moved to Jackson, the more that insane power of his had an effect on him. He couldn't breathe, he could barely hold onto his dagger, he was terrified at the thought of what this man was capable of. Soon, Jackson began back away defensively. "Not many people figure out how to beat Vegas," King Milhouse said in a smooth voice. "Almost no one figures out Bakuto's secret, and out of the last ten thousand that have joined our ranks, only three have beat Galaxy. This little sparing session was to test you ability to turn an unwinnable fight in your favor. Now, we'll see what you do when you're fighting an enemy Gods champion stronger than you."
A servant girl walked into the arena an handed King Milhouse a plain looking sword. He planted the sword into the ground to his left and left it there. When the servant girl exited the arena, the bell was rung. Jackson didn't know what to do. He had no idea how to approach this man. He was terrified just to be standing on the same ground as him.
They stared at each other like two gun men in an old western movie caught in a duel. Then suddenly without any warning, King Milhouse picked up his sword and swung it aimlessly. The sword left a trail of pink light that traveled towards Jackson at an alarming speed. Jackson dove out of the way at the last second. Mid fall Jackson threw his dagger, and because of how sudden it was, he threw it higher than he meant to. The dagger curved outward and then inward, right towards the kings blind spot. Jackson wanted to shout, but it was already too late. When he hit the ground, King Milhouse was just standing there, with the dagger in his hand. "I didn't see that one coming," he said with a smile on his face.
Then the strangest thing happen. A golden light began to envelop the King, and then he was gone. There were gasps from every section of the crowd. Jones came into the arena, picked Jackson up, and started dragging him inside. "Listen," she said in a hurried voice. "Back when the warriors first elected Johnathan as their king, he said if any warrior could force to use his full power they should be the ones to succeed him."
"Wait what do you mean?" Jackson said as they entered the dining hall. "How did he catch that dagger?"
"Johnathan's is the fastest man alive, that's how."
At the front of the room, Jones shoved Jackson into the throne of ice. "I can't do this!" Jackson protested as he stood up.
"You can," Jones said shoving him back down. "And you will. Being king is easy. You can literally do anything you want."
"Then you be king, or queen, or whatever you wanna call it."
"I'm not the one that beat Johnathan, you are."
The room began to fill up with warriors coming through every door. They filled the room, then all at once, got down on one knee. "Long live King Jackson!" They all said.
Everything that happened next happened in a blur. There was a feast that went on for hours. Around twenty different fights were started. And two people died trying to sneak attack Galaxy. Jackson was tired and really wanted to go to sleep. "I'm gonna call it," he said to Jones. "I need sleep."
"Alright," Jones said as she laughed. "We moved you to the the king's quarters. I'll show you were it is."
Jones escorted Jackson to the king's quarters, which was on the fifteenth level of the main tower. "Your coat and sword are already inside," Jones said when they reach the door.
When Jones opened the door there were three girls, wearing only linen shirts, standing in front of his bed. "Hi Jackson," they said in unison.
"What's this?" Jackson asked Jones.
"Meet Clarissa, Alyssa, and Marissa. They're you're bodyguards. Johnathan didn't need them. So, now that he's gone, they're excited to actually be of use."
Jackson recognized the girls as the ones he passed when he first arrived at Stronghold. "Ok but why are they in my room?"
"They have to form the binding ritual. The ritual makes it so if anyone wants to kill you, they have to kill them first. Trust me, I have trouble killing one Valkyrie. You're gonna have three protecting you."
Jackson heard it but didn't care what they were. He was much too tired for that. "Can I sleep through this ritual?" He asked the girls.
"Yes my king," the girl in the middle said.
"Then it's fine by me. I'll see you in the morning, Jones."
Jones nodded and left, closing the door behind her. Jackson walk through the room, which much too empty given how big it was. All there was a large bed, a wardrobe, and a dresser. He walked over to the bed which was next to a wooden door he assumed went to a balcony. "So what is it I have to for this ritual to work?" Jackson asked the three girls.
"The ritual requires that each of us make an uninterrupted physical connection to you for at least eight hours. Your welcomed to sleep through it, my king. The three of us only need to speak the incantation, and then we can also join you in slumber."
Jackson sat down on the bed as one of the girls removed his shirt. The other two untied the laces on his boots and removed them and his socks. He laid back in the bed and watched as each of the girls removed their shirts as they climbed into bed with him. One girl rested her head on top of his abdomen, while the other two rubbed their naked bodies against his. Their smooth skin and perky nipples made his heart quicken. The girl on top of him smiled at him as his cock began to stiffen.
Jackson noticed each of the girls had similar facial features, they only thing different between each of them was their hair color. One blonde, one brunette, and the other a redhead. Jackson listened for a while as each of them spoke an incantation he didnt understand before he drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep.
When Jackson awoke, each of the girls were still in their positions. He managed to roll the one on top of him off to the right, then climbed out of bed without waking any of them up. He walked over the wooden door next to bed, opened it, and stepped out on the balcony.
The morning suns were already on the rise, and Jackson could hear warriors training in the yard below him. When Jackson took a deep breath, he could smell everything. The dew on the trees in the forest, the sweat on the training warriors, the perfume on the girls in his bed, the horses in the stables, even the breakfast being prepared in the kitchens next to the dinning hall. His sight had also been sharpened. He could make out every last detail on the armour of each warrior training below him. He clenched his hands and noticed there was no more pain in his left arm, he also felt stronger. Like his muscle fibers were suddenly made of steel. Was this what Galaxy meant by his body going nuclear? Jackson didn't understand why he was here, but he was find out. He climbed up on the balcony railing, and leapt off.
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withoutshade · 6 years
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My Fire Eating Story
Main editing by Rion Fish, 2018, May 30th
Special thanks to Zofia Kaminski, Anna Tukachinskaya, Aetheria De Fleury, and Bethany Byrnes, for their contributions.
My name is April Jennifer Choi, and I used to be a Fire Eater. Over the years, I put in thousands of hours to become one of the most well-known, knowledgeable, and skilled fire-eaters in the world. Over the course of three years, I learned and categorized hundreds of fire-eating tricks and variations. I demonstrated, edited, and produced six volumes of The Fire Eating Tricktionary. I became one of the Admins of the largest fire eating Group on Facebook. I invented new fire eating torches and styles. I performed and taught Fire Eating for some of the top fire arts events in the US.
About a year and a half ago, I started to get sick. At first, I assumed this was due to a new medication, but a pattern emerged-- I was getting sick for days after fire-eating practice. On my birthday last year, April 13th, nausea, headache, vomiting, diarrhea, profuse sweating, abdominal cramps, and tachycardia set in. This was so severe that my fiancée, Bethany, tried to call an ambulance. I begged her no, before losing consciousness on the bathroom floor. This was the first time I had fuel poisoning, but not the last. Over the course of the coming year, I was already booked to teach and perform fire eating all around the US; I went ahead with my schedule. After every major workshop, I would get sick. I cut back on my practice, and I noticed things got better. Due to other health issues, I have blood work on a bi-monthly basis. After one blood test, my doctor asked if there was anything I was doing that could be throwing the test off. I mentioned fire eating, which my doctor had seen me do in the local 4th of July celebration. My doctor recommended that I stop completely, and requested a follow-up test in two weeks. Two weeks crept by, in which I was unable to demonstrate any fire eating with fuel, despite teaching five fire-eating classes at PlayThink Movement Festival during that time period. I returned home, had my blood drawn, and the results were back within normal range. I spent the autumn months teaching and performing with a limited trick set, nothing advanced,  and with few negative occurrences. During this time, I decided to discontinue being a full-time performer and resume my engineering career. When the invitations for the 2018 festival season started to come in at the end of the year, I was repeatedly requested to teach and perform fire eating. I said yes, to way too many events, including both fire-eating workshops and a few fire eating world record attempts. I regret those choices. The season kicked off, and I noticed that I was growing more sensitive. Filming for the “Best of Fire Eating” video, I limited my number of takes but felt ill for days after. I tried to rationalize and write it off; this could not be happening to me. During Flame Festival, one year exactly since my birthday celebration that I collapsed at, I noticed my symptoms were still more sensitive—to being around both UPLO and white gas. I started to ask questions and research what else could cause my decline. I changed my diet because I noticed that vegans and people with strict diets, seemed to suffer a bit more after fire eating or fire-breathing. I also found people who slept less, who weighed less, as well as others who didn’t use substances that potentially masked their symptoms, seemed to suffer more. I set out to better my lifestyle, to reduce the amount I would get sick, looking toward vitamin supplementation and cleaner fuels to improve my outlook. Things did improve, until a long workshop in Iowa attempting a fire-eating world record. I felt terrible immediately and had to take the following day on bed rest. Things went downhill from here faster and faster. I filmed my submission for a fire-breathing collaboration video. Even using the standard, UPLO, which is considerably safer than white gas, and only a few breaths, I was sick once again. I was so sick that I decided then that I would quit fire-breathing; while it is an art that I enjoy, I love Fire Eating. Since I was still to teach at Kinetic Fire, the biggest fire festival in the Midwest, I took a few weeks off and hoped for the best. At Kinetic Fire, I taught only three classes, one of which I supported with minimal demonstrations. I restricted the second class to a discussion. The third class involved vapor tricks, during which I did a few demos and some play with the other instructors. I did less than ten vapor tricks total. Within hours, things were bad. I decided not to participate in the fire circle and go to bed early. I couldn’t sleep due to painful cramping. Nausea, headache, sweating, and racing pulse joined in; I staggered to find a bathroom as fast as I could. I spent an hour that felt like forever with severe diarrhea, vomiting into a trash can, and feeling the worst I’ve ever felt in my life. The pain was intense, and nausea and irregular heart rate caused things to shimmer away in tunnel vision. When I was able to speak, I began yelling for help. An event organizer heard me and radioed for a medic. The medic arrived, and I explained the situation as best I could. He said he could request an ambulance-- and I seriously considered it-- but I knew the situation and there wasn’t much to be done. After much comforting and examining, the medic retrieved my fiancée. I faced the fact that just a handful of vapor tricks caused my situation, and I had to completely stop both fire-breathing or fire eating. I’ve always been chemically sensitive. A single coffee will keep me awake for many hours. A dose of Dramamine knocks me out. When going under general anesthesia for the first time, I was incorrectly dosed due to my low weight, and I spent the following days vomiting at home. Even with better sleep, diet, trying to find a cleaner fuel, and gaining weight, my situation was ugly. I didn’t think much of fire eating in the beginning, but I fell for it hard. It connected me with an international talent agent and opened doors to performing around the world. I had world records and TV shows lined up to see what I can do with fire. I make love to fire in such that it dances on my lips. These are no parlor tricks; this is my joy, my pride, joining me to a global community of magicians, entertainers, and artists. I am admired for this. Despite that, as the sun was coming up at Kinetic, I faced the fact that fire eating is killing me. The decision to quit fire eating is not an easy one. I am grieving. Some of my closest friends, my best companions, and my most trusted confidants developed because of this art. So many people I love and cherish were at Kinetic Fire, there to see as I was escorted to bed, to cry myself to sleep. The next afternoon, I sat with my people, who inspire me so much. I cried in their arms and they cried back. They reminded me that I have other passions that are not fire-breathing or eating. I heard them, even as a piece of me was dying. Everyone who takes up this art is warned about the legion of risks, but I did not expect it to feel like this. We ignore the danger until it is all too tangible. This week, I canceled all my upcoming record attempts, performances, and informed events that I couldn’t demo fire eating in my remaining classes. Each cancellation stung my heart. I continue to feel cold and distant; my dreams are up in smoke; this is not an easy lesson in acceptance. I’m not leaving the community behind. I must take many steps back, but I will stick around to help people learn this beautiful art as safely as possible. I will help find safer ways to do this and I will warn people about the risks. I want my story to remind everyone that there are dangers to playing with fire other than just getting burned. I hope this warns those that discover their passion for fire arts to be more careful. I pray for those blessed by the magic of fire eating, may they never be hurt by it. For more than the pain of a blistering burn, is the enduring heartbreak. Please, stay safe out there. Addendum (June 25th):
So, it has been a month and I have talked to a lot of people about this in the fire eating and fire breathing worlds. Collectively, we have discovered 3 more things that I was doing that probably lead to my suffering when fire eating and fire breathing.
The first is diet; Adam Lobo pointed out that diet is a huge part of staying healthy while fire eating. Without going into a massive list of what’s good and bad, the main suspected foods that hold on to fuel and vapor better are fats and dairy. No one knows this for sure, but a number of fire eater and fire breathers have stated that reducing fats and dairy before fire eating, as well as increasing the amount of fiber reduced the chance or severity of them getting sick; while the opposite made them feel much worse.
Secondly is Hybrids and Dangerous Techniques. Derrick Vermin noticed when he started down the road of Solo-Hybrids and Fuel Traps he too began to feel ill. My journey took me way too far down this path. My Solo-Hybrid skills had me holding both Air and VG Vapor in part of my Lungs, WG in a tongue trap, and both UPLO and WG Vapor in my mouth to pull off certain tricks. Just the WG traps alone could have probably set off my immune system to go haywire let alone the plethora of dumb ideas such as popcorn, micro-torches, and the Vermin’s own technique of ‘Hidden Dragon’ and my version called ‘Crouching Tiger’.
Lastly, Cilantro the Clown pointed out that I practiced in a ‘Binge’ format. Where I would do a lot of fire eating or breathing in a 3-4 hour practice session or 5-6 hour workshop rather than 15-30 min every day. These ‘binge’ sessions are why I ended up so violently sick afterwards and my body probably recognized that the fuel was causing this and then started to react quicker and quicker each time. Had I spread my practice out more, I might have reduced the chance of the intense immune response I developed.
Now, due to my current health, I am not about to test these hypotheses out myself, but I want this information to be available so that future fire eaters and breathers can use it to progress the arts further while reducing possible adverse side effects. I will continue to collect information and knowledge for the safety and protection of fire performers that are wanting to pursue these arts and I hope many others are willing to do the same. Together, I want us all to continue to grow this magical world while keeping our members as safe as possible.
Google Doc Link: https://tinyurl.com/myfireeatingstory
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Power Coaching Tool: Fear Versus Action
New Post has been published on https://personalcoachingcenter.com/power-coaching-tool-fear-versus-action/
Power Coaching Tool: Fear Versus Action
A Coaching Power Tool Created by Stephenson Robert (Transformational Coach, UNITED KINGDOM)
Introduction
As a coach, who works with the narrative elements of the client, not the story that we can get caught up in, but more the Narrative of their current existence in relationship to the goal or challenge. I am keen to explore who they are “being” at the moment, that enables the challenge to exist in the first place, or the narrative they are holding onto that prevents them from taking the next step without the coaching intervention.
During the opening of many coaching sessions, we can notice the blocks, limiting beliefs, or perceived truths that allow fear to come into the client space.
When I talk about fear here, I am not talking about fear in relationship to real danger, fear of falling, fear of doing a dangerous sport. However, these fears may play apart in the coaching, often as metaphors for a more internal fear that my tool seeks to shift to create or rather enable action.
As coaches, we are fully aware that it is the client that takes the step, and the coaching is the space that enables the step to be noticed, realized, gathered up by the client through the process.
Explanation
Noticing fear.
One of the first steps is to notice fear showing up in the first place, and this might come from the client’s tone, energy, or physicality when talking about the goal or challenge. As we hold this in mind, it is essential to be mindful of applying our own agenda of fear being present, into the coaching space. Instead, we hold this lightly as a possibility, the same way we might look out for words like “should” and “must” as these are linguistic gateways into a client’s thoughts or feelings.
The tone of fear.
When working with Bobby on his desire to be a public speaker, one was able to notice the strong and confident tone of voice that flowed during the coaching conversation unless Bobby was exploring how he might handle questions from the audience that he didn’t know the answer to. There was a pulling back of the volume, a drop in tone. The was also accompanied by words such as “can’t”, “stuck” and “confusing”.
By paying attention to the client tone and in fact language we might notice the “fear” making itself known but not necessarily in the clients conscious, but under the surface, which makes it important for the coach not to jump on the first noticing of tonal change as meaning fear, but reflecting the noticing of tonal shift with inquiry and openness, being very aware of continuing to hold rapport and presence with the client. A too forceful question may break rapport, cause the client to close up, or move away from the current felt state to relieve themselves from the coach’s path of questioning.
Observing fear.
When we can see our clients, we might also notice a physical reaction take place as fear becomes part of the conversation. We often talk of leaning into a challenge or leaning into space and can notice this happening physically as someone becomes more engaged in the conversation.
However, when something pulls fear or anxiety into space, our clients may lean back, pulling away from the space, creating distance for themselves, retreating, or even getting smaller in front of our very eyes. However, these movements can be extremely subtle, and having trained as a mime artist in a past career; my eyes are tuned into physical detail, noticing the smallest of gestures.
There is something else to be said here, too about noticing the client’s physicality. If we look, with focus, at the client’s face, we will miss the rest of the client and not see other physical signs showing themselves for noticing.
When working with Bobby, as he got closer to his stuckness, there was a curling of the shoulders, a slight turning inwards and forwards. There was also a tilting of the head. All of this can be easily missed when working with the client when we become too focused upon one aspect, so the ability to be present while also not attached to any-one element is so important.
The energy of fear.
When we take the time to breathe, relax, and tune into the space between ourselves and our clients, we can often notice the energy between us. Sometimes we are not even aware of it until it changes or shifts. This is similar to walking into a room and noticing the tension in the space, or when a person of high positive energy walks into the room, and we feel that lift in energy.
Depending upon your belief or paradigm, you may be more tuned into energy than others, and that is just fine, because as coaches we can still, regardless of our belief, notice the shift in energy, rapport, or attention between our client and ourselves during the session. Similar to the emotion we notice, just before it is physically displayed, by the client.
We might think about it from a spacial perspective; there is the client in their space, us in ours and the space of the coaching relationship, and it is the caching relationship space we can notice shifting and changing as fear enters into it from the client. Sometimes we might notice this as our own fear but are unsure where this sensation is coming from, and we might just take the time to explore is this me, or is this in the space. You may even ask the client this as an open question, or a reflection of what you are noticing.
So far, I have spoken about my own observations of fear, and I feel it is essential to share a few other perspectives:
The dictionary talks about; an unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm. And while there may be no real physical danger for the client, they are often battling with the emotional aspect of fear, the felt sense as opposed to the physical threat of danger.
Verywellmind1* talks of fear as being; a natural, powerful, and primitive human emotion. It involves a universal biochemical response as well as a high individual emotional response. This can allow us to know that this is a very human experience and that our clients are not odd, wrong, or broken to experience the emotions, it is simply a human reaction.
They continue to say; Fear is a natural emotion and a survival mechanism. When we confront a perceived threat, our bodies respond in specific ways. Physical reactions to fear to include sweating, increased heart rate, and high adrenaline levels that make us extremely alert2*. This reinforces the idea that this is simply being human. However, as coaches, we work with our clients to explore the “realness” of the perceived danger which is where the Action part of the power tool comes into play, which we will explore in more detail later.
In her book Positivity, Barbara Fredrickson says; fear is linked with the urge to flee….3*
This may give us evidence, to notice why clients avoid leaning into what they fear, when exploring their goals or challenges, within a coaching session.
Paul McGee also talks about fear, and how it can cause us to exaggerate our perception of danger, in his book Self-Confidence he says; ….feeling anxious is not the problem. The problem occurs when you allow the anxiety to overwhelm you…..being over-anxious causes you to exaggerate the negative impact of an event or the likelihood of that event occurring.4*
Application
So how might we put this knowledge into action? Here I outline the steps one might take, Using my client Johnny (name changed to protect the innocent: permission gained to use our sessions as examples) to highlight both the noticing of fear and the process that enables us to move from fear to action.
Johnny had several public speaking engagements lined up, the initial excitement had shifted, leaving Johny with a very temperament at the beginning of the session. Initial observations;
Lower tone of voice than usual
A slower pace of speech
Shoulders leaning forward
Upper torso leaning backward
Chin downwards towards chest
An additional observation is a story being shared, the use of language such as;
This is happening
And then there is….
They are doing this or that
One can notice how this language isn’t about the self but for others. In some way, we can notice how Johnny is giving away his “power” in the situation, leaving a sense of powerlessness.
First step – Reflection
Here we reflect our noticings as the coach, without judgment or meaning, just what we are seeing and hearing—making sure to use as much of the client’s language as possible. This creates an observable perspective for the client to make their own reflections and noticings.
Second step – Questioning
Here we use our open questioning skills to explore what “might” be going on for the client. Keeping what I like to call “fluid language”. Words such as might, have an unusual quality of fluidity about them, not fixed. And that allows for changes, expansions, and emergence to take place for the client, without them being wrong or having to change their minds, just allowing the newness to exist and it emerges into space.
The third step – Eliciting emotion
This is the most delicate step of all, where one must be mindful of putting our own agenda or feeling onto the client. Firstly we ask the client.
“I am wondering if there is any emotion here?” Or you might ask
“What is the emotion that is happening for you right now?” One could also ask
“I am wondering what emotion is coming up for you right now as you hear this/share this/reflect upon this?
The client may share a myriad of emotions here, and you might even need to help the client name the emotion they are feeling using tools like the ‘emotion wheel’5*
One can also use Plutchik’s Wheel of Emotion
As we view these tools, we can see the emotions linked to or associated with fear. It is not for us to diagnose the client as having fear, but to explore if this is a possibility, which leads to step four
Fourth – the challenge
Whenever we, as coaches, name what we feel as being in the space or a possibility, it is important to do so in a way that it is a question not a statement of fact.
One might even ask for permission to share this reflection; however, this permission might have already been gain within your original coaching contract. You may wish to recontract at this moment or not, but one must make sure that we continue to hold the space for the client, as well as coaching presence and rapport.
When working with Johnny, with who I have had a daily long coaching relationship, I can simply ask the question, without seeking additional permission, using language that is open, reflective, and a holding supportive tone.
“Johnny, as I hear you share and we explore I am wondering if fear might be playing a part here….What are your thoughts on that?
Having worked with Johnny for a while, we have explored the idea of fear before, so this word is familiar, you may wish to wait until the client brings the word into space, for concern of leading or bringing the coaches agenda into space. However, I feel when done right, the client can reject your wonderings easily if there is no resonance. And the coach must allow this rejection to take place without attachment.
Fifth step – the consequences
Once you have elicited the emotions, as it may not be fear that is holding the client back or keeping them stuck, we can then explore the consequence of staying in this space.
I am aware that in each of our coaching spaces, there may be other routes that may come to mind or be more useful, as it is with all coaching processes. However, to share how I enable movement, I will assume that the client is stuck, held back, or inactive in progression at this time.
We can call on the consequences questions, which we can also use with visualization if our client desires.
If you stay in this place for 3 months, what might happen?
If you stay in this space for 6…..
If you stay in this space for 1,2,3…5 years, what might that mean/bring/happen?
This visualization journey allows the client to picture what may continue to happen if they stay where they are right now. This often brings about a desire to move forward, to take action, to create change, especially as the client may see how being inactive/passive/settling, how they will not be able to achieve the goals that they desire. This shift in perspective brings about a desire to take action, which we can then continue to coach the client for them to build the steps of action.
 Reflections
While working with my client’s I am mindful not to allow this tool to drive my coaching, but to sit in the background, brought into space when the vocal and physical indicators show up in the space, and even then not to push but allow. It is all too easy for a tool to become leading, and it is our offering into the space that allows us to bring it with openness and gentle offering, that allows it to be accepted or rejected without tension or a breaking of the coaching relationship.
I also feel that it take a sense of connection and courage to bring this tool into the coaching relationship, challenging the client to explore their fear without having developed a relationship with them, can lead to damaging the coaching relationship in a way that is unrepairable. However, one needs the courage to challenge our clients, challenge them to look deeper, to go further, to take a deep breath and face what is, so that they can address it, except its presence, and make the choice to do something about it when and where appropriate to them.
I hope this tool enables you to assist your client’s movement from Fear to Action, in a supportive, encouraging, and powerful way, leading to the achievement of their goals.
Reference:
1* https://www.verywellmind.com/the-psychology-of-fear-2671696
2* Kozlowska K, Walker P, McLean L, Carrive P. Fear, and the defense cascade: Clinical implications and management.
3* Positivity, Barbara Fredrickson,pg19
4* Self-Confidence, Paul McGee, pg 144
5* Emotion wheel
Original source: https://coachcampus.com/coach-portfolios/power-tools/stephenson-robert-fear-v-s-action/
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theadrogna · 6 years
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I was tagged by @smilinstar, thank you!
Rules:
1. Post a quote or short excerpt from your early days of writing/ARTING.(I’m talking old fanfics/ART, slash fics/ART, original fic/ART, etc., that are barely edited and have a ton of technical errors and misspelled words.) This is the cringe part. Don’t edit anything! Let it be horrendous. Don’t Panic.
2. Post a quote or short excerpt from one of your most recent works/WIPs. Something that you’re proud of. Something that you’ve written/ARTED that makes you smile when you read it.
3. Tag a writer/artist you admire, anyone who you think is amazing, new friends, followers, writeblrs, anyone who you’d like to know more about. If you think someone is a great writer/artist and you want to see how they’ve developed their skills, tag them! Everyone started somewhere.
1. Hmm. I have been writing for a really long time, and I could pull out some of my really early original stuff, but I’ll stick to fanfic. The first fandom I ever wrote for was Airwolf, which had been off air for quite a while before I got into the fandom and so my audience was tiny. Here’s an excerpt from Wolf’s Bane, which is still up on Fanfic.net if anyone is feeling masochistic enough to want to read the rest of it.
Hawke was pulling on his shirt whilst finishing a mouthful of toast when he caught the disturbance in the air that meant he would have company. His friend, Dominic had often teased him about his sensitive hearing and his supposed sixth sense for the arrival of a helicopter at the lake, but the warning it gave him often proved useful. Hawke was not expecting any guests this morning and it would be unlikely that Dominic would visit him so early. That left only one person and when a white helicopter landed beside the lake he knew that his intuition had been correct. He moved into the kitchen area and put on a fresh pot of coffee.
Knowing that the door was always unlocked, Michael Archangel didn’t bother knocking, but breezed in followed by his shadow, Marella. Both were dressed completely in white, which was the uniform of the section that Michael headed up at the Firm. The only part of Michael’s dress that was not white was the black left lens of his glasses and it stood out starkly against his otherwise perfectly white well-tailored suit. He walked with a confident step and it was only the cane that he carried which belied the fact that his leg was badly injured. Marella wore a white flight suit and was not only Michael’s pilot but was also his closest aide.
“You’re too late for breakfast, Michael,” said Hawke.
“I didn’t come all the way up here for breakfast with you, Hawke,” replied Michael, with a slight tone of annoyance in his voice.
Wow, that’s not good. Kind of wooden and there’s so much I would change in it if I was writing it now.
2. I’m never happy with my writing, but I have definitely improved over the years. So, here’s a bit from, Gently As She Goes. Rip and Gideon have been trying to find each and suffering from memory issues after a mission gone wrong in ancient Denmark.
“I think you’ve been going for joyrides to the nearby town and pretending to be a dragon,” said Rip.
Oh dear. That doesn’t sound good.
“Well, it’s certainly not going to help the timeline,” said Rip. “Bring up your diagnostics.”
Rip scanned down the list of malfunctioning systems. His head was killing him. It was getting so bad that he was actually considering throwing up because of the pain. He could hardly read the screen. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to get them to behave enough that he could read the list.
Something caught his eye.
“Gideon, stop!” he said, sharply. The scrolling list came to a halt. He read the entries again. “Shut down all psychic systems immediately. You are not to connect with me or any other humans that come into range.”
Yes, Captain. Is there a problem?
Rip breathed out a blessed sigh of relief as the pain in his head gradually decreased.
“You’re the Grendel,” he said, with a sigh. “Your dream recording systems… they’re malfunctioning. You’ve been searching for my brainwaves. It’s one of your routines for finding me in an emergency, but it looks like you’ve been emitting psychic impulses as well as trying to connect to mine. Which has all been made worse by the fact that you’ve been tapping directly into the time drive to draw power for it.”
I am sorry. I was unaware that I was doing that. My systems are badly damaged.
“I know, Gideon, you didn’t mean to do it, but the human brain can’t take that kind of power. I got a headache just walking on board. It should be fine once we get it repaired,” said Rip. “Did you know that you’ve also been generating a hologram that’s been calling my name while walking around in the forest?”
No, Captain. I didn’t know I could do that.
“Neither did I,” said Rip. “I mean, holograms, yes, but I had no idea you had a form that was beyond this one. They thought you were a ghost.”
That’s quite unfortunate.
“If it’s any consolation, they think I’m a hero and they sent me off to kill a dragon,” said Rip. “Since the dragon turned out to be you, I think I might give that a miss.”
Much better. I actually enjoyed reading that again!
3. I would love to see what @caffeinated-and-confused, @incendiaglacies, @riphuntertimemasterlegend, @darkestsight, @singledarkshade and @quentinlances make of this challenge. Show me your early stuff, guys!
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houseofvans · 7 years
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SKETCHY BEHAVIORS | MARINA MIKA (CROATIA)
Inspired by childhood storytellings of fairy tales and folklore, artist and illustrator Marina Mika creates beautifully detailed pen drawn works that are not only skillfully executed, but also a “real reflection” of the artist herself–her emotions, experiences, and impressions from life. A self proclaimed “perfectionist,” Mika’s elaborate drawings can take days to weeks to form, and only will be completed if the artist feels 100% about it.  And, we’re 100% stoked to chat with this talented artist who shares with us her process, her influences and provides some great advice for any emerging artist in this month’s Sketchy  Behaviors. 
Photographs courtesy of the artist. 
Introduce yourself?  Hey, my name is Marina Bitunjac but known as Marina Mika over social media. I just got my MA degree at at School of Design university (visual communication – graphic design) in Croatia, Europe. But my expertise was always illustration and illustrative graphics. 
When did you first get into drawing?  I was drawing for as long as I can remember actually.. but the scene that will always be stuck in my head as the most vivid memory that got me into drawing is when I asked my mom to draw my favorite toy for me. (My mom had a natural talent for drawing but she lacked true creativity and ideas.) But, yeah, I had this  beautiful  white  fairy tale  horse toy with long  gold hair and a cape full of beautiful pattern and gold details. I really loved that one ,and was very proud of  owning it, so I asked mom to draw it. I remember her drawing  being (in my eyes then) the best thing ever! It was gorgeous and I fell in love with the skill of drawing, the beauty of it and the so-called magic around the whole process of creating. It is  interesting how peaceful and quiet it is to create but how powerful and ‘loud’ the result can be. 
What were some of your early influences? My early infulences were also the fairy tales that I was told before going to bed. They  had a huge impact on my ideas  since they were so  strange, yet so captivating and  ‘alive’. Also, for some reason I always had  japanese pierrot illustrations (artist: Mira  Fujita) around my room. I don’t even know  how I got them but I still have them with me wherever I go. That is why I tend to like drawing pierrot-like  characters. 
What’s your art background – were you self taught or did you go to art school? In primary school and high school I was drawing for myself, learning and studying art was a hobby. I was always known as ‘the girl who can draw’ but it was never serious. I knew I was not at my best and that I need to learn A LOT more, to find my own illustrative voice. And so, I got accepted to School  of Design after finishing high school. I spent my early uni years discovering myself,  experimenting (with life and drawing) and I really kicked off in my later uni years, after realizing who I was, what I want, and how I want to express myself. I finally figured out how to control drawing with what feels natural to my thoughts  and emotions of highlighted life experiences and memories or impressions. Of course, design school helped  me a lot to figure out ‘how to think’ and how to sort out ideas (what to keep and what to give up on, and more).
Do you keep a sketchbook or work your ideas as you go along? I don’t keep a sketchbook. I never got used to drawing in a sketchbook, so I gave up on it. I sketch when working on and developing  ideas for graphic design, but for illustration I just wait for an impression, emotion or taught to grow really ‘loud and clear’ in my mind and then I just get to work. My illustrations are really just an extension of my mind, they are basically a visual diary.
Your work is beautifully detailed, meticulous and rich in pattern and textures. What is your process like? How long does it take from your idea to a finished piece? Hmm.. well, my process is strangely so similar yet so different for each piece. I really like them to be ‘true’. Meaning, a real reflection of myself, not structured to be ‘just pretty’ because then, they would be somewhat fake and shallow, and people always sense if something is true or not. So, there is really no point in ‘faking it’. Sometimes it takes days or weeks for an idea to form, and sometimes it just hits me with ‘That’s it. Do it.’ I have to feel it is 100% the right one before even starting. And then, sometimes  it is difficult to translate the idea that is so clear in your mind to paper, but I redraw it and redraw until I get it. So some drawings are done really quick and some take time. Also, it depends on how much fine detailing it takes. I care about details in real life too. Details are very important to me, as they define the whole picture (in life and in art), so I spend a lot of time perfecting it. Basically, I am a plain perfectionist. 
In terms of mediums, you work mostly with pen and paper, correct? What are your favorite mediums and are there other mediums you hope to one day utilize more? Yeah, I work with pen and paper. Since I am a perfectionist I like the clean and controled lines I am able to make with pens. But, before I seriously started working with pens I worked with them because I could afford them in any paper shop. As a high school student and in uni I didn’t have time, space and money to buy fancy art supplies just for practice, so I worked with what was affordable and what felt right to work with. I ended up somewhat ‘mastering’ it and created my illustrative style with these mediums, and I am pretty happy with working with them. I would like to try to go digital eventually. All my works are hand drawn and I will continue in creating that way but I love learning and pushing limits. There is no point in being stuck to one thing, change is good, and it is important to discover and re:discover yourself and your abilities.
Folklore plays a part in your works, what about these early stories do you find yourself drawn to illustrating? Do you have a favorite tale you’d like to share? As mentioned before, traditional fairy tales were always told before bed time when I was a kid. We had a lot of fairy books and fairy tale movies at home. So it is natural that I developed a strong bond with them. Also, the place where I grew up is quite like a fairy tale place itself: by the sea side  with lots of nature and woods. You can easily imagine these tales to be true when you are a child in such an environment. I don’t have a favorite tale, or at least I can’t think of any at this moment. Depending on my mood and on what I feel at a certain period of time I bond with a specific tale.
What artists past and present are you really into at the moment? I grew up with Mira Fujita’s work hanging in my childhood room, so she is the first one that had a huge influence on me. Later I discovered Kay Nielsen’s beautiful works and was completely in love. After that, I got hooked on Yoshitaka Amano’s and Erte’s work. They are the 4 artists that influenced me the most. But, I admire so many different atists it is impossible to name them all.  I also love children illustrators, since their work is so creative and imaginative, as well as contemporary chinese art.   What has been a highlight for you as an artist? A certain show, a project or collaboration? The best thing ever, so far, was when I recieved an e-mail from SHOWstudio with an offer to illustrate Paris Haute Couture. I love fashion, I always have. I love the art of designing clothes and I love how beautiful the models are, but I never had the true desire to be a fashion designer. But, also, I always wanted to be a part of that world, and by getting the chance to illustrate it - I was ecstatic.   What would be your ultimate collaboration be like? What’s your experience been like collaborating with companies or other artists, if at all? I don’t have a clear idea what the ultimate one would be.. I approach every collab as the ultimate one. Every single one is different and therefore a new experience. I tend to seek new and fresh experiences trough illustration as it helps me to develop as an individual, what is directly reflected on my work.   What’s a common misconception about artists? And what has been your biggest challenge? From my point, I think the common misconception is that every artist can draw anything and with anything. Personally, I work with pens and I spent so much time perfecting this type of work that I don’t know how to control working with brushes for instance (and it just does not feel ‘natural’). Artists have a certain expertise in what they draw and what tools they use. They spent a lot of time, emotions and personality in perfecting it and making something new and original to offer to the world. 
Also, in my opinion, the common misconception is that anyone can be an artist or an illustrator. I think that artistry is a work field just like any other. I do illustration, since I worked and studied long and hard for it, my mindset is ‘programmed’ to work in an illustrative way, therefore I am not able to make a groundbreaking painting as someone who works as a painter can.  My biggest challenge was discovering myself and reflecting it to a certain style for sure. After I discovered the ‘true me’ and my own way of illustrating I was able to be confident in what I do and what my abilities are. That is when my work started gaining popularity with others.    What do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t an artist? If I was not an artist I would work with animals  100%. I have always loved animals and if I was not watching cartoons  as  a child it would be a documentary movie about animals. Also, my family has always had foster pets. All our pets are from the street, so it is natural for me to help and care for them.   What are your favorite Vans? Since I personally mostly wear timeless and classic pieces, I have to say the original ones. But I LOVE all the new and contemporary prints and design you do.
How are you not just ONE thing? What other creative things or hobbies do you find yourself also doing when not drawing? What do you do to unwind in your down time? This is a difficult question.. I do many things, depending on my interest at a specific time. For the past year I am interested in working out and the gym (in my free time), and I found myself discovering the beauty of classic cinema (b/w movies) these past weeks. But, that will change for sure. I tend to spend some time learning and discovering about a specific theme and after gaining enough knowledge I seek for something new.
What are your thoughts on social media? How do you find a balance between work and keeping up with all of it?
Ah I love social media haha, I am hooked on it for sure. Especially instagram. I made an account there quite late actually, and did not use it seriously, but after I got somewhat used to it I started posting my work and it grew. It is not hard to balance work with social media, since it is an extension of what I do. I love the interaction that I am able to get with different people through social media, and the fact that I can discover so many talented and inspirational people with the use of it.
What advice would you give someone thinking about art as a career? I would say: be 100% yourself. Think of what you do and don’t do something just because you saw somebody else do it. When you are true to who you are, it shows, and people recognize it. Also, study hard and practice harder. Learn about your field and interests, get to know the past behind it and after building a strong base: launch something new to the world.
Things are not made over night and it is always quality over quantity. 
What’s on the horizon for 2017? Who knows.. As my mom always likes to tell me when I feel overwhelmed: ‘Marina, always one step at a time.’ So, I guess it is the best to focus on delivering the best of what I can do now;  while growing and discovering new things in life. Anything can happen ‘tomorrow’, let’s be the best of ourselves now.
Follow Marian Mika Facebook | https://www.facebook.com/MarinaMikaArt Instagram | @marina.mika
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killfaeh · 4 years
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Tipeee and Patreon pages updated
Hi everybody! Today I'm here to announce that I've finally been able to update my Tipeee and Patreon home pages. :D For those who are discovering, these are patronage platforms where one can support the activity of an artist/author by giving a small obole monthly or punctually. On Tipeee you can even help for free by watching promotional videos.
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The mini comic presentation of the Patreon page. I'm happy with this cute style like comic Artist for Rent. :D
These two pages have been existed for 2 years now and I thank all the patrons who have helped. It doesn't allow me to live from my creations but it give me a boost of self-confidence knowing that there are people who believe in me and my skills. So, thank you all! :) Like many artists, I got a bit fooled by proposing content that required extra work (illustrations, tutorials, graphic resources...) that glanced at my usual activities (i.e. my comics and software development) to try to make these pages attractive. I couldn't do everything when I was unemployed, so now that I've found a full-time job to fill the fridge, it's going to be even more complicated. Plus, this bonus content didn't seem to really inspire much enthusiasm. So I've concocted something simpler for you. Today I'm here to present you the changes I've made to these pages:
What will remain
What will disappear
What will be new?
Rewards
What will remain
Comics
Obviously, the comics will remain since they are the main content and the reason why I opened these pages. ^^ I'm going to stay on the free web comic formula (because you have to publish content on the Internet regularly to attract new readers) with one month advance access and no watermark for patrons for serial projects. I also add Dragon Cat's Galaxia 1/2. Although this comic book features licenced characters, this one remains in the register of parody and humor. I also have non parodic fan comics ideas. Those will obviously not be financed via these platforms. On the other hand, for one-shot projects I'll do the same as for Tarkhan: the first pages published for free to give a preview, but the rest accessible exclusively to patrons and purchasers of the comicbook (because publishing content regularly on the Internet is useless if it's limited in time).
G-rated illustrations
The HD illustrations will remain as well. I have some in stock and I create new ones regularly, so I shouldn't find myself on a tight stream anytime soon.
What will disappear
NSFW illustrations
Exit the NSFW illustrations. I like to draw nudes of beautiful males from time to time, but unlike the other illustrations, I don't have a stock in advance, so I'm on a tight stream. It annoys me to have to force myself to do this kind of illustrations when I don't feel like it and especially when I don't have an interesting idea in mind instead of working on the main content. Moreover, the audience that supports me on Tipeee and Patreon is not the most interested in this kind of content (as far as I know), so if I ever propose this again, it might be elsewhere, on a different account or on another platform. For the moment I put it aside.
Tutorials
No more tutos. It's long to write and format, it's never read, and since there are lots of free tutos on YouTube, nobody wants to pay for it. I'd rather share and answer questions about my tips and tricks in person during meetings or on my live Twitch.
Graphic resources
Exit the graphic resource pack (brushes, patterns, color catalog...). As for NSFW illustrations, I don't necessarily have one every month to offer. It is important to know that I produce these graphic resources according to my needs when I work on my comics, so I don't get them out on a regular basis. Moreover, the resources in question don't necessarily correspond to your needs every month. People interested in my brush and screentone packs to use in their own comics made it clear to me that they preferred to buy them occasionally according to their needs on my own online store even if it meant paying the price and that going through Tipeee and Patreon for that bothered them. They see these platforms as a patronage system but not as buying platforms. So I'm simply going to remove that and I'll modify my online store to add the possibility to buy dematerialized goods.
What will be new?
Well, I'm going to incorporate into the main content my other activity that I had ignored in the rewards even though it occupies a huge part of my work: software development. Obviously all this is related. This activity includes, in addition to the evolution and maintenance of suiseipark.com, the development of the Péguy project, my games projects, as well as a comic platform project.
TGCM Comics (Website - in dev)
TGCM Comics is a web platform project dedicated to web comics and webtoons where budding or experienced authors will be able to publish their stories and exchange directly with their audience without technical knowledge on the web. Here's a mock-up that gives an idea of what it will look like.
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As soon as the main functionalities are ready the site will be made available in beta test for patrons. Why this project? Many other such platforms have emerged in recent years. So I hesitated for a while before launching this project, but seeing that all of them impose trending algorithms that give headaches to many authors of the web, I recently decided to propose a project where this type of algorithm will simply be inexistent. The default display on the home page will be based on the principle of the random playlist guaranteeing an equal rate of visibility for all comics and a real freedom of choice for the readers, allowing authors to create at their own pace without mess up thair health to go up any rankings. This is this fall's priority project. So I will post news regularly and soon to keep you informed of its progress and present you little by little the proposed features. I've opened a development blog (French) for this purpose that I will feed about once a week. It has a suggestion box (French) if you want to ask questions or suggest features.
Péguy (Web application - in dev)
Péguy is a web application that since 2018 allows me to automatically generate certain graphic effects, patterns and scenery elements for my comics. It has brought me a huge gain in productivity.
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As it is beginning to take a form that can be used by laymen in programming and mathematics, I will soon put it online. Initially, this will be an early access reserved for patrons. Then, I will propose a small subscription system for non-patrons with a trial period. Naturally, the patrons will keep their access during this second phase. :D
Wizeknight Brotherhood (Online game - in dev)
Wizeknight Brotherhood is an online RPG project with a slightly unusual format. Basically, take World of Warcraft and put a visual novel interface on it, and you'll get an idea of the final result. In this game you will explore the world of Tellura, a Tolkian fantasy world, and conduct quests that will make you conclude 'we are not alone in the universe'. :p In the spring of 2020 I developed a small prototype called A l’Aventure Compagnons which gives a vague idea of the principle.
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I am tempted to keep this pencil rendering for Wizeknight Brotherhood.
A l’Aventure Compagnons is playable, just download the client from this page. Don't hesitate to come and pull my ears on Discord if you see that I forgot to switch on the server. :p For the moment the engine of Wizeknight Brotherhood is under development and the first test phases will take place in pure text mode.
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This good old scary UNIX console. The MUDs, the ancestors of MMORPGs, looked like this and they still exist with active communities. :D You can find them here.
Rewards
As for the rewards, here again I decided to simplify things so that I could concentrate on the projects I have just listed. The basic reward will give you access to the content I just mentioned. I'm not going to make different levels of access, otherwise I think that some content will have no audience or too little. The higher counterpart levels will give access to HD scans of my artwork. I'm way behind on the old formula's rewards. I'll try to deliver all the promised content in the coming weeks, except for the NSFW illustrations, I might get stuck doing only that. x) That's all for today! Have a nice week and see you soon! :D Suisei
P.S. If you want miss no news and if you haven't already done so, you can subscribe to the newsletter here : https://www.suiseipark.com/User/SubscribeNewsletter/language/english/
Source : https://www.suiseipark.com/News/Entry/id/294/
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