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swanlake1998 · 3 years

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Article: For transgender dancers, progress can't come fast enough

Date: March 8, 2020

By: Avichai Scher

Sean Dorsey was tired of being the only transgender dancer in the room. So he took the bold step of starting his own company, the San Francisco-based Sean Dorsey Dance, and become the first openly trans director of a full-time dance company. It was a milestone for transgender and gender-nonconforming dancers and choreographers, and Dorsey hoped it would lead to a more inclusive dance world.

The company is celebrating its 15th anniversary this year, yet Dorsey remains the only openly trans artistic director of a full-time dance company in the country.

“We’ve definitely made progress since I started, when there was really no context for institutional or social support of trans dancers,” Dorsey said. “But there’s still a major lack of representation across the dance world.”

Dance, especially older forms such as ballet and modern dance, is mostly structured around strict gender lines. While the growing acceptance of transgender people in the United States has extended somewhat into the art form, trans dancers are often forced to choose between being their authentic selves and career opportunities.

Issues start in training

Dorsey’s choreography often deals with trans issues, and he is committed to being an advocate in the dance world for transgender people. But even in his own company, Dorsey is the only trans performer.

“In San Francisco, at least, I don’t have the luxury of holding an audition for trans dancers,” he said. “There just aren’t very many at the professional level.”

Dorsey said this is largely because barriers for trans and gender-nonconforming dancers start at a young age — as most training programs are gender-specific.

Jayna Ledford, 19, made headlines when she came out as transgender in an Instagram post in 2018. She was studying at the Kirov Ballet Academy at the time, a traditional ballet program in Washington, D.C. It was the first time a dancer at an acclaimed ballet school had publicly come out as trans.

Classes at Kirov, like most ballet conservatories, are generally separated by sex assigned at birth, and when students are combined, teachers offer different steps for men and women. Ledford, however, found ways to get the training that matched her gender identity, including dancing on her toes in special pointe shoes, which is done almost exclusively by women and requires unique training.

“I wanted to do what the females were doing,” she said. “I’d do it on the side and not pay attention to what the guys were doing. I’d also stay after class and practice pointe technique with my female friends.”

She hadn’t had the training other females at the school had, but she was hoping to transfer from the men’s program to the women’s.

“I knew I had a lot of catching up to do in terms of pointe work,” she said. “But just being in the room with the females, that’s what I wanted.”

The Kirov Academy told Ledford she could not join the women’s program unless she physically transitioned. Ledford was not ready for that, so she left the school. She was disappointed but now says she understands the academy’s position. The school confirmed Ledford’s account but declined to comment.

Maxfield Haynes, 22, who is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns, said the large, prestigious ballet school where they trained was not supportive of someone presenting as male wearing pointe shoes.

It wasn’t until Haynes enrolled at Tisch School of the Arts at New York University that they were able to explore the more feminine aspects of ballet technique. Ledford also found higher education to be more supportive than a conservatory. She now studies at Montclair State University and practices pointe technique daily.

Lack of professional opportunities

After NYU, Haynes chose to dance with Complexions Contemporary Ballet partially because the company is explicitly supportive of gender fluidity, and even had a specific role for Haynes that is gender-nonconforming. In the David Bowie tribute piece, “Stardust,” Haynes dons pointe shoes and was partnered with male dancers.

“It was everything I could have dreamed of,” Haynes said of the role. “As nonbinary, I like to get to show all aspects of gender. I don’t think about dancing like a man or a woman, just myself.”

Opportunities to dance roles that are gender-nonconforming are rare in the concert dance world, even if dancers are becoming more open about being gender-nonconforming in their offstage lives. And those who want to physically transition face a stark choice, as none of the major dance companies in the U.S. currently have openly transgender dancers on their rosters.

Alby Sabrina Pretto recently made the difficult choice to begin physically transitioning with hormone replacement therapy at the expense of her performing career. She was a dancer with Les Ballet Trockadero de Monte Carlo, an all-male comedy troupe, for eight years. While she got to dance in pointe shoes, the style of the company is rooted in the comedy of men portraying women, which ultimately wasn’t how Pretto identified.

“There were moments I wanted to do things like a ballerina would and be ethereal and pretty,” Pretto said. “To dance like a woman.”

She knew that physically transitioning would mean she could not continue with the company.

“I wanted to have a career, and that slowed down my decision to transition,” Pretto said. “I waited until I felt like I had done what I wanted to do there.”

Liz Harler, general manager of Les Ballet Trockadero, said in a statement that transitioning does not disqualify dancers from the company.

“Dancers who expressed interest in transitioning to female have been told that their job would not be in jeopardy, though none have chosen to do so while continuing with the Trocks’ rigorous dancing and touring schedule,” Harler said.

Both Ledford and Pretto hope for the day when they can attend an audition and be hired without having to explain their gender identity.

Ledford said. “I’ll audition as any other woman. If I get in, then I’ll sit down and talk with them.”

Ledford is “optimistic” that this can happen in the next few years, but Pretto isn’t so sure.

“I am not naive, I know I cannot just audition for a major ballet company and join the female corps de ballet,” Pretto said. “But I would love for that to happen for me. It’s the ultimate dream.”

Her skepticism is partly based on the experience of her former Trockadero colleague, Chase Johnsey, who is gender fluid. He made headlines in 2018 when he was cast in a female ensemble role in the English National Ballet’s production of “Sleeping Beauty,” though it was not on pointe, and the heavy costume concealed his body. No additional female roles came his way afterward.

The question of who gets opportunities as a dancer often comes down to the taste of directors and producers and what they imagine their audiences want to see, not just ability.

Pretto danced a couple of character roles recently with Eglevsky Ballet, a growing ballet ensemble on Long Island, New York. The director, Maurice Brandon Curry, said he would consider Pretto for a female ensemble role next year, because her pointe work is “excellent,” though he wonders how some in the audience will react.

“Casting Alby in a female role would not be about passing as female, but I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge my concern about an audience member who was offended,” Curry said. “But art is not prejudice; it’s about inclusivity and open minds. If someone is not willing to have that experience, they don’t have a legitimate place in our audiences.”

Signs of change

Dorsey said that even having discussions about gender identity in dance is progress from when he started, and he’s encouraged by changes he’s seen: Most theaters either already have gender-neutral restrooms or create them for his company’s visit; trans and gender-nonconforming students attend his workshops in various cities and share with him their efforts to be accepted in their dance communities; the San Francisco Ballet persuaded him to lead a training session on gender identity in dance; and he was on the cover of Dance Magazine.

Ledford was recently a “Gaynor Girl,” a spokesperson for the popular pointe shoe brand Gaynor Minded. Pretto said she worked up the courage to use the ladies' locker room at one of New York’s busiest studios, Steps on Broadway, and no one seemed to mind.

Still, the art form has not yet caught up to reflect the audience, Dorsey said. His company has worked in over 30 cities in the U.S. and abroad, and he is usually the first trans choreographer a theater has presented. But he said the response from audiences is almost always positive.

“Dance audiences are ready and hungry for trans voices,” he said. “It's our dance institutions that are still catching up.”

#article #ballet #an article from last year but still important #sean dorsey #jayna ledford #maxfield haynes #alby sabrina pretto

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amphtaminedreams · 3 years

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Sitting Front Row at...(On a Budget Obvs): Lookbook no.15

Hey to anyone reading!

And welcome to my fave lookbook I’ve done in a longggg ass time! Yes, that’s partially because it involved making collages and doing the low effort work of scouring Vogue Runway for “research purposes”, but I promise, that statement wasn’t made out of COMPLETE laziness-I am super happy with it too. It’s been a good use of pre-part-lockdown-lift time in the interim between that brief period of Christmas celebrations and eateries finally fucking opening again because let’s be honest, I always knew I was gonna get distracted by oat milk vanilla lattes and veggie all day breakfasts once I could actually sit down with them at my fave local cafe. You could say I was very much operating on a self-imposed deadline.

The “what I would wear to sit front row at...[insert designer here]” TikTok/Instagram reel trend was something I wanted to get on board with ever since I first saw one and whilst the option of doing my own live action take-I really cannot bear the thought of having to edit footage of myself awkwardly attempting to sit nonchalantly in front of a camera for hours on end-was off the cards considering my complete lack of screen presence, I decided a Tumblr text post would work just as well, and if not even better in a way. Given the absence of the time limitations you face when you’re making a reel or a TikTok I thought it’d be cool to present the looks as part of a mini moodboard for each designer which adds a bit of context to each look even if you aren’t familiar with their past collections and establishes the general vibe of the brand I’m attempting to replicate. Not to sound snotty or as if I am the font of all knowledge on anything high fashion related but even with my amateur knowledge I noticed that as the video trend took off and was adopted by big name influencers, it became less about the average person putting their own personal spin on the aesthetic of the labels we can’t ordinarily afford and more about them building outfits that only vaguely resemble the general public perception of the brand around the real corresponding (and often gifted and thus inaccessible to someone who doesn’t makes thousands for a sponsored post) pieces they own SO I thought I’d take the trend back to its roots and get a bit resourceful. All that being said, in no particular order, here are the outfits I would wear to sit front row at Gucci, Vera Wang, Miu-Miu, Marc Jacobs, Dolce & Gabbana, Brock Collection, Alexander McQueen, Etro, Burberry aaaand Saint Laurent based on their past collections and guess what? They didn’t cost a shit tonne of money :-)

-disclaimer: will include an asterisk before any new purchases if from a high street store though to be honest, I don’t think there are any, we shall see! I do include where I got old purchases from in case anyone wants to search anything on Depop/Ebay-

1. Saint Laurent (formerly Yves Saint Laurent)

-blazer from identityparty on Depop, pleather trousers from Zara, jewellery from Dolls Kill-

I know technically abbreviating Saint Laurent to YSL doesn’t really make much sense anymore given the brand’s name change in 2012, but I’ll always think of it as that in the same way I’ll always associate it with the slightly dishevelled yet simultaneously glitzy rock n’ roll aesthetic. The thing is, whilst YSL hasn’t done anything wildly out of the box for a long time, it’s rare they put a look on the runway that I wouldn’t wear; they never end up being a fashion week standout but the Parisienne take on grunge we’ve seen Anthony Vaccarello establish as his go-to will always have a place in my heart.

2. Alexander McQueen

-embroidered leather jacket from Ebay (originally Topshop), harness from Amazon, dress from ASOS, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-

Alexander McQueen is a brand that is pretty much universally liked, from the historically extravagant and groundbreaking shows the man himself put together to Sarah Burton’s more toned down but still beautiful collections. Obviously I didn’t attempt to do justice to the former, so I tried my hand at putting together a look inspired by Sarah’s blend of delicate femininity and nomadic edge, and it went...okay? Like it’s definitely not my favourite of all the looks because it does give off slightly cheap copycat vibes buuut outside of the context of this lookbook it’s cute.

3. Brock Collection

-boater hat from Ebay, midi skirt from morganogle on Depop, corset top from ownmode_, heels from amybeckett1, bag from Primark-

Brock isn’t as well known a brand as most of the others in this list but I adore everything Laura Vassar Brock does and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try and channel the vision of one of the OG pioneers of the cottagecore vibe through my own wardrobe. I mean fr, this woman’s work as a steady provider of meadow photoshoot worthy dresses and corsets and skirts is v slept on and I will not stand for it. I will sit in front of a camera and then write a paragraph in my blog post begging anybody who reads to give LVB (an abbreviation I acknowledge is unlikely to catch on because Lisa Vanderpump anybody?) some form of acknowledgement for her services to period romance novel inspired moodboards everywhere.

4. Marc Jacobs

-coat from House of Sunny, white shirt from Retro World Camden, co-ord from Sugar Thrillz, bag from Poppy Lissiman-

If there’s one thing Marc Jacobs always does, it’s COMMITS. TO. HIS. THEME. I just KNOW he has a secret Pinterest with separate boards for every fashion era of the 20th century and he is putting those boards to good use providing us with collections that are as immersive as they are eclectic year in year out.

5. Miu Miu

-beret from H&M, hair clips from H&M, jewellery from Primark, coat from mollyyemmaa on Depop, shirt from YesStyle, sweater vest from YesStyle, skirt from Depop, diamanté belt from Brandy Melville, shoes from Koi Vegan Footwear-

We all like to talk about Bratz dolls and Monster High dolls and Barbies as fashion inspo but can we all focus on Cabbage Patch dolls for two secs so as to acknowledge the fact that a Miu Miu collection is basically all their fits grown up? And made boujie as fuck? If I want my fix of Wes Anderson meets Scream Queens (what a combo) inspired outfits, if I want prissy and girlish but also glam, if I want to look like a bratty rich girl whose one redeeming quality is her eye for vintage clothes, I know where to look and that is the Miu Miu section of Vogue Runway.

6. Vera Wang

-blazer as in no.1, velvet bralet from catdegaris on Depop, harness from Amazon, skirt from Ebay, knee high socks from Ebay, lace up boots from Ebay-

Vera Wang’s RTW aesthetic, a blend of the ethereal, ultra-feminine bridal designs she’s known for and British style punk rock influences, is something I feel has only become firmly established in recent years but it is everything I ever wanted and more. I always find myself trying to balance the part of me that loves everything girly and delicate and pretty and the part of me that would love to be in a biker gang and Vera’s collections are always an inspirational reminder of just how well it can be done.

7. Burberry

-coat from charity shop, suit from emmafisher3 on Depop, top from simranindia, shirt underneath from Zara, jewellery from ASOS-

Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m not the biggest fan of Burberry but there have been a few looks over the past few years I’ve really liked and as someone who owns numerous trench coats, high necks and way too much plaid, I thought it’d be an easy one to replicate. Plus, if you can count on Riccardo Tisci for nothing else you at least can rely on him giving you some layering inspo which is very much needed in a country where it literally just snowed in April and where my plans for today have just been cancelled because the iPhone weather app did a Karen Smith and didn’t predict rain for today right up until it started raining so thanks for that one British meteorologists. Your incompetence strikes again.

8. Etro

-corset from Urban Outfitters, vinyl trench coat from Topshop, boots from Ebay, black slip dress from kaoanaoleinik on Depop, fur trim afghan coat from louisemarcella-

Like with Brock Collection, Etro isn’t a hugely well known brand, but it is always one of my favourites-to add a spanner into the works of any attempts to cultivate a firm sense of personal style, I live for the ornate Bohemian look that Etro does so well just as much as I love both grungy and girly pieces, and so I really wanted to include a brand whose collections go down that route. It was a toss-up between this and Zimmerman, the flirtier, free spirit counterpart to the dark romance of Veronica Etro’s designs; her vision really shines through the most when it comes to the brand’s winter collections, imo, and given that I live in a country where winter or some weather state resembling it does seem to take up 70% of the year, I did decide on channelling her work rather than that of the equally talented Nicky and Simone Zimmermann this time round.

9. Dolce & Gabbana

-flower crown from ASOS, tiara from Amazon, earrings from YesStyle, dress from alicealderdice1 on Depop, opera gloves from Ebay, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-

D&G is a brand I felt really conflicted about doing-I don’t include their current collections in my fashion week reviews based on the actions of designers Stefano Gabbana and Domenico Dolce over the last few years because I don’t want to mitigate the collective effort of fashion critics to push them towards irrelevancy. Though people like to claim the brand has turned a corner since Lucio Di Rosa was brought on board as the manager of celebrity and VIP relations last year (they are as prolific a force on red carpet fashion as ever), we haven’t seen any real meaningful apologies or reparations made by Dolce and Gabbana themselves which once again leaves us in the all too familiar quandary of whether or not we can separate the art from the artist especially when it is far too much of a simplification to only credit the two men for their work given there’s a whole design team behind them. There are a LOT of shitty people working in fashion, the whole industry is a bit of a cesspit if we’re honest, but I don’t think that should stop us from at least being able to appreciate old collections if we make sure we aren’t engaging in any kind of promotion of current works whilst doing so. D&G are a brand of high highs and low lows, with looks that range from hideously ugly to showstoppingly beautiful in a single show-when the looks are good, they are GOOD-and their presence in the fashion world is most definitely felt whether we want it to be or not. It would just be shit to refuse to recognise the existence of some real iconic runway moments, the practical work that went into the ornate detail and opulence that helped cement D&Gs place in sartorial history, the styling that’s made goddesses and fairytale queens out of modern day women as they’ve glided down catwalks, the far more extravagant and, let’s be real, sexier version of our world D&G shows have transported us to in the past. Will I talk about D&G ever again? No, and if you Google the scandals their brand has faced over the past few years, there are more than enough reasons why, but just this once I did want to pay homage to some of the collections, the snippets of which I saw on my Tumblr dashboard back when I was about 13, that first got me into fashion.

10. Gucci

-fur coat from Topshop, clips from Zaful, glasses from Ebay, dress from gracewright246 on Depop, shirt from Boohoo, blazer from charity shop-

Now last but, if you ever read any of my fashion week reviews (the likelihood of someone actually having read one of them and reading this is incredibly, incredibly slim lol, I wouldn’t read me either) you’ll know, definitely not least, is Gucci because Alessandro Michele comes through every!! single!! time!!

The man is truly the king of quirky throwback maximalism and it hurts my heart that a lot of people seem to think of it only as a brand associated with ostentatious displays of wealth. Year after year since Michele was made creative director he has released purposeful, fully-fleshed out collections which unravel themselves to us on the runway like time capsules containing the belongings of the rich and whimsical and yes that can sometimes result in outfits which are *ahem* a bit mismatched but it doesn’t matter because through fashion he manages to take us to a vivid version of the past where people could dress as freely and lavishly as they wanted to, into the wardrobe of a person unaffected by the side-eyeing of others. You get the impression he doesn’t design so much as plays around with some kind of enchanted dress up box and takes inspiration from there and to give that impression is only a credit to his talent-to make outfits so kooky and extravagant look like they were meant to be takes a boldness and genuine love for clothes that I do tend to feel a lot of the big name designers have lost in the pursuit of profit and the necessary placating of the dying customer base that keeps that coming in. Of course I'm not for a second saying Gucci does not care about profit, but at the very least, they have on board a creative director who genuinely has fun with what they’re putting out there and wants to make a statement too and that really shows; you can rest on your laurels and sell tweed boucle jackets to rich old white women for eternity but nobody’s going to mention your brand name and the word groundbreaking in the same sentence ever again unless they’re talking about what it was a century ago, you know (mentioning no names...unless...did I hear someone say Chanel)? That feels like such a shady way to end, lol, but I’m sure said brand will survive-to be fair, they’ve been included in every other What I’d Wear to Sit Front Row At video I’ve seen so although I’m always slagging them off for doing the saaaaame thinggggg year after year, for that same reason their aesthetic is instantly recognisable and so will always be a source of imitation. There are obviously pros and cons to being a brand which constantly reinvents itself but I think it’s totally possible to do that whilst maintaining an overall mission, and Alessandro Michele’s work at Gucci demonstrates that with ease.

Anyway, if you got to here, thanks for reading! I know I’m super behind on this whole TikTok trend and I know a Tumblr post instead of a video is a bit of a cop out but all the real, physically awkward ones out there know that watching yourself back is excruciating lmao, so I hope this does the trick. After this, I’m gonna get back to the reviewing S/S21 collections post though knowing me I’ll probs take a few days to get back into that because I feel like since I left full-time education (RIP me going back in a few months) writing continuously like this for any longer than about 15 mins fries what brain cells I have left. Again, thank you for reading and if you are, sending many good vibes your way! Stay safe!

Lauren x

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some-lists · 4 years

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10 Documentary Series for the Wanderluster

If you’re sick of being stuck indoors and isolated from the rest of the world, you might find yourself binge watching travel documentaries just like me.

I’ve always loved traveling. I’ve been to a handful of places, but there’s so much more out there. These docu-series will make you want to get off your butt and hop on a plane ASAP. Of course, that’s not really an option in this pandemic, but these shows can offer a nice dose of escapism right in your living room.

These are just a few available to stream that I really loved. (Btw, most of these are about food. Because I love food.)

1. Somebody Feed Phil

I love this show. Everybody Loves Raymond creator Phil Rosenthal travels to some of the most beautiful locations around the world to try the best foods. He meets with locals, expats, and world renown chefs who show him the best local dishes and their culture. Phil isn’t the best food critic. Most of his commentary consists of, “Mmm, that’s good!” But his cheery, friendly demeanor makes for easy watching as he casually befriends locals in every international city he visits. Oh, and the theme song is killer.

Watch it on: Netflix

2. Street Food: Asia & Latin America

Get ready to be hungry! Made from the same people behind Chef’s Table, this series takes you to a different country in each episode. Street Food: Asia and Street Food: Latin America are actually listed separately on Netflix. But they are essentially two different seasons of the same show. You’ll meet local street chefs who’ve made their living cooking and selling their best comfort foods on the street. They share their stories of hardship, determination, sacrifice, joys, and successes. Each episode has close ups of every dish that will have you salivating.

Watch it on: Netflix

3. Gordon Ramsay: Uncharted

Season One of this National Geographic series is currently available on Disney Plus. We see chef Gordon Ramsay travel to some remote locations, where he not only learns about their local ingredients, but has to forage and hunt them himself. At the end of each episode, we see him face off with a famous chef from each region. It’s beautifully shot with some really breathtaking views of these amazing landscapes. We see the vast Sacred Valley of Peru, majestic glaciers of New Zealand, and tropical blue waters of Hawaii. Now, if only Disney Plus would release the second season.

Watch it on: Disney Plus

4. Down to Earth with Zac Efron

Down to Earth with Zac Efron is not just a feast for the eyes, but a series that will make you think. Zac Efron travels with his friend, Darin Olien, to learn about various methods of sustainable living. We learn about sustainable energy in Iceland, fresh water in France, and blue zone diets in Italy. They also take the time to explore and enjoy the best leisure activities and cuisine in each country.

Watch it on: Netflix

5. Conan Without Borders

Conan Without Borders is a segment of his talk show that is now available on Netflix (but only the first season). Of course, you can still watch more on YouTube, but those videos are cut into shorter segments. Conan’s buffoonery is put to good use as he travels to learn about other people and their countries. His shtick is the clueless, ignorant American abroad. It’s an honesty that’s rewarding, as he shows these countries in a light few Americans get to see. He’s hilarious in each episode as he accidentally (or not so accidentally) offends, but also learns from the locals in each country.

Watch it on: Netflix, YouTube

6. Travel Man: 48 Hours In...

Travel Man has had 10 seasons, and 7 (ish) of them are on Hulu. It’s a recent discovery for me, so I’m still making my way through the episodes. Richard Ayoade travels to a different city with a different celebrity for 48 hours. They do a lot of the typical things the average tourist would do. It features transportation, checking into a hotel (usually on the higher end), seeing the sites, and exploring different foods. Most of the celebrities who join him are British, so I’m not too familiar with them. It probably works better if you know who they are, but it doesn’t matter. Richard Ayoade’s dry humor makes each trip amusing regardless.

Watch it on: Hulu

7. Jack Whitehall: Travels with My Father

British comedian Jack Whitehall takes a belated gap year trip with his 70-something year old father. The stark contrast between their personalities make for a very interesting vacation. We go on a real ride with the two as we get to know them and as they grow from the experience. Jack is full of energy and definitely more open minded of the two, but we can also see why his father gets annoyed with him. He’s a big kid and, at times, spoiled. At first Jack’s father comes across as snobby and ignorant, but we learn to laugh at his biting humor and his efforts to connect with Jack. We also get a bit of a different view of each location. We visit eccentric temples in Thailand, watch trained rats search for mines in Cambodia, check out motocross skiing in Germany, and more.

Watch it on: Netflix

8. Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations

Seasons 7 and 8 of the late Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations can currently be viewed on Hulu. If you’re a humanitarian at heart, this one is for you. Anthony Bourdain is after truth. He’s not interested in commercialized tourist traps or filtered Instagram photo ops. He’s after the real place, the real people, and the real history. He visits disadvantaged populations around the world. He meets with locals, journalists, and humanitarians in each country. Their conversations are often about poverty, political corruption, and marginalization. But he also has some lighter missions as well. A trip to Naples in search of the real Italian food experience. A discovery of Croatian culinary greatness. A cook off in Tokyo between the world’s greatest chefs. What we see is not always pretty. Sometimes it’s truly upsetting. But sometimes it’s great too. Either way, it’s the truth. What Anthony Bourdain ultimately does is capture the heart of the people, something traveling tourists often overlook.

Watch it on: Hulu

9. Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner

I’m not a huge David Chang fan. I’ve only made it through one episode of Ugly Delicious. (It was the curry episode, because I love Indian food.) But I found Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner a much easier watch. It’s a lot more chill. There are only four episodes. (That helps.) He and a celebrity friend tour a different city, try the food, and just chat it up. This series focuses more on location and culture, rather than just the food itself. The personalities of his celebrity guests help provide color and humor to each episode. Kate McKinnon, as always, is a delight.

Watch it on: Netflix

10. Tales By Light

Tales By Light follows photographers around the world as they capture stunning works of art. This is a must see if you love art, especially photography. Watch humpback whales dance under water in Tonga, the colorful Festival of Holi in India, abandoned desert ghost towns of Namibia, and indigenous cultures of Australia. Season 3 is especially sobering. Photographer Simon Lister and UNICEF ambassador Orlando Bloom travel to Bangladesh to capture portraits of children in need. You’ll marvel at the beauty, but also cry for the less fortunate.

Watch it on: Netflix

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kaffeinic · 5 years

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Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Neutral // Slight Fluff // Romance

Warnings: Fem!Reader

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

It’s the day of the party, and you’re currently standing dead center in the middle of your bedroom, - which is completely covered from corner to corner in clothes and hangers - trying to find something, anything, that you can wear.

The problem isn’t that nothing looks good. You personally like your style. The problem is that you don’t know how to dress. You know that you asked to not go in the water, but should you wear a swimsuit and/or something beachy anyway? Should you just show up in something casual, like a hoodie or t-shirt?

This is the only thing you’ve been doing for three hours straight.

Growling in frustration, you carefully tip-toed out of the room using the tiny bits of floor that were still visible to avoid dirtying your clothes. It was then that you heard your phone vibrate from the other side of the room.

Turning back around with a sprinkle or two of colourful language, you made your way back to your phone, checking the text. It was from Junseok.

Hey! We decided not to go to the pool. Are you cool with just being at the apartment?

You squealed in delight. This essentially eliminated the inner turmoil you had been completely overdramatizing, causing a wave of relief to rush through your body.

Yeah, of course! Same time?

You replied to him, tapping your foot as you waited eagerly for his response.

Yeah. See you then!

You smiled from ear to ear and threw on a change of clothes, which consisted of a white sweater, ripped blue jeans, and a pair of white adidas. You styled your hair and threw a few items in your book bag - whose old contents were neatly stacked on your desk - and walked out of the front door.

Junseok’s apartment was within walking distance, so you took your time and enjoyed the sounds of birds and people chatting in the distance. It took about ten minutes to get there, give or take. Junseok’s apartment was pretty much the exact same type as yours, so you already felt a bit of comfort knowing the general layout of the place. When you arrived at the door, you could faintly hear pop music playing inside. You knocked, fixing your bag to lie better on your shoulder. Your friend - honestly, more of an acquaintance - greeted you with a smile.

“Y/n! I’m happy to see you! Come on in!” He was absolutely beaming, very proud of the party he had put together. There were already seven people chatting in various sizes of groups in the living room, and you could hear more people around the corner in the kitchen. You didn’t smell booze, and internally thanked Junseok for that.

“Thanks for inviting me.” You said, stepping inside and taking a better look.

“Just make yourself at home. The bathroom is upstairs-” He paused. “Wait. You said you lived in the neighbourhood; you probably already knew that.” He began to chuckle in embarrassment, scratching the back of his neck. “Anyway, I hope you have some fun!” With that, he waved and walked off to speak to more of the guests.

You found yourself suddenly very uncomfortable. Apart from Junseok, you recognized no one. According to your memory, you haven’t ever been to a party like this. You awkwardly held your arms and moved towards a wall in the living room that separated it from the kitchen. You could still hear the buzzing of voices from around the corner. Most of the conversations revolved around gossip and/or dating. You began to notice that many people were in different corners of the house, making out unapologetically. You scowled in disgust.

You reached into your book bag, groping blindly for your phone. If you didn’t know anyone here, you would at least try to act like you knew people who wanted to talk elsewhere. You had your phone opened to the texting application, swiping up and down to seem like you were doing something. Getting bored, you looked up coffee art on Instagram.

Most of what you saw was latte art, but you found yourself drooling over the intricately designed cakes as well. Suddenly, you wanted coffee. Gee, I wonder why. You shook off the thought, continuing scrolling through the videos. You came across one from the Parks’ café and couldn’t resist watching.

You saw Mrs. Park at the counter, talking gleefully to the camera, explaining the types of coffee you could buy there. In the background, you saw that same head of curly blonde hair that greeted you when you would enter the shop. Chan was called over to the camera to show the cup of coffee he had just made. It looked delicious. Someone cleared their throat behind you, breathing on your neck.

You instinctively scooted away and gave a warning. “I’m not interested in you or making out with you in the back room. Go away.”

“I mean, I wasn’t planning on it, but it’s good to know you’re not here for a one night stand.” Chan’s voice sounded playful. You looked up to see the man with arms folded, leaning against the wall next to you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He wore a white hoodie with a black leather jacket, ripped jeans, and boots. His hair was styled and he smelled of cologne.

“I didn’t expect you, either.” You raised an eyebrow. “Stalker.” Chan’s eyes widened and he took a moment to process your comment before laughing.

“I couldn’t let all of these guys pressure you into making out in- Where was it that you said? The back room?” He smiled gleefully and you returned the gesture. “Remember when I told you I had a friend that lived near you? It’s Junseok.”

“Wow. I only got invited as a favour to a friend.” You rolled your eyes, not entirely faking the pain.

“I didn’t say anything to him. He called me yesterday to ask if I’d like to come over tonight.” Chan moved closer and turned to face you. “Maybe it was fate?” With that, you giggled, immediately embarrassed that his stupid joke made you laugh.

“Jokes aside, I’m glad to see you. It’s... uncomfortable here.” You looked down, placing your phone in your pocket.

“Can’t say I’m not surprised.” Chan replied. “You’re more of a studious, introverted type. When I said I didn’t expect you to be here, I meant it.” He smiled at you again, making you forget everything else around you - even the loud sounds of melodramatic storytelling coming from the kitchen. You turned to face Chan.

“I honestly don’t know what I’m doing here.” You admitted, looking down. Chan’s hand wrapped around your shoulder.

“You don’t need to stay. I could take you back home.” He offered. You smiled at his kindness and shook your head.

“I think I’ll try to stay a bit longer. I need life experiences that don’t involve a textbook and laptop.” You said. Chan’s hand left your shoulder and returned to its original position in his pocket as he looked at you.

“You can be my lost puppy if you want to.” He said. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Your what..?”

“You can follow me around. Or not. It’s just an option.” He replied. You had a Eureka moment and nodded.

“What were you planning on doing?” You asked.

“I was going to swim, but it seems we aren’t going to the pool. I feel cheated.” He said, eyes narrowing at Junseok from across the room. “The only reason I came is because he said we would go swimming.” You laughed at his annoyance and looked back at Junseok. He was chatting happily when he turned to you and waved Chan over.

“Yo, come over here. I want you to meet someone.” He said. Chan looked at you and ushered you to follow him. You two walked up to Junseok to see a very pretty - albeit very snobby looking - girl. She smiled at Chan and waved.

“Hello.” Chan said. The girl all but made heart eyes at him.

“Hey there. I’m Kim Seoyeon.” She said. You looked down, immediately uncomfortable. Was Junseok trying to play matchmaker? You thought Chan was into you. He held out his hand politely and she shook it.

“You need a girl, bro. I think you’d like Seoyeon here. She models.” Junseok said. You could tell that he meant no harm, but it still hurt. Chan smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Seoyeon, but I have my eyes on someone right now.” Chan moved a bit closer to you, and your heart fluttered. Did he just reject her to try to make a relationship with you?

“With this?” She said, looking at you with disgust. “You’ve gotta be kidding. I’m way prettier.”

“No, you’re not.” Chan said. He looked at you and gestured you to walk away with him. Before leaving, he turned to Junseok. “Thanks anyway, mate.” Junseok’s eyes were wide with surprise from the last few moments that transpired, but he looked at you and frowned.

“But Seoyeon is more your type. Y/n is my-” He stopped himself. “Not your type.” It was at that moment that you understood what was going on. Junseok invited you because he liked you, and when he saw you chatting with Chan, he wanted to deter the two of you from getting too close.

“I’m sorry. I’m not interested. Maybe you could date her, if you really think she’s that pretty.” He said. Something told you that Chan had figured out what was going on, too. He didn’t seem happy about it. You looked around, then held up your hands.

“Hey, guys- I think I’ll just go home. It’s okay.” You said. Both of the boys looked at you with disappointment.

“No, please don’t leave. I invited you here.” Junseok said.

“It’s okay, I can see you at the university.” You replied.

“But, Y/n-” Junseok tried to argue, but Seoyeon cut him off.

“If she wants to leave, let her leave.” She said. Though you knew her ulterior motive behind that remark, you still were happy that she wasn’t opposed. Junseok looked defeated.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked. You nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” You said with a smile. He held the back of his neck, smiling.

“Bye!” You waved to him and Seoyeon and headed for the door. You heard Chan’s footsteps follow you.

“I said I would take you home, and it’s dark now.” He explained. “May I?” You looked up at him and smiled.

“You should go enjoy the party.”

“Snobby girls, no pool, an inevitable awkward conversation with my friend, and a lack of my favourite coffee addict? I think I’ll pass.” He opened the door for you. “Let’s go.” You stepped outside.

“Thanks, Channie.” You said. He smiled again at the nickname.

“Oh, I love that.” He walked toward his car and opened the passenger door.

“What a gentleman.” You said, taking a seat. He grinned and closed the door. When he sat down, he shoved his keys into the ignition and started the engine.

“Y/n?” He said. You looked up at him quizzically. “I don’t want you to think I’m looking for anything else on the side.” He said. It took a moment for you to process.

“I know.” You said. “It was pretty obvious.” You laughed at the situation. Chan didn’t laugh, but he did smile.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“I-” He began. “I don’t know. For everything.” You two sat in silence for most of the ride, which was only a couple of minutes. You seriously could have walked home yourself.

When he pulled up into your parking lot, he didn’t say anything. After an awkward silence, you began to gather your things and open the door.

“Y/n, could I have your phone number?” He asked. You smiled and nodded, reaching in your bag for your phone. It was a new number that you weren’t too sure you had memorized. You definitely didn’t want to give Chan a fake number by mistake. You continued searching in your bag, but failed to find the device.

“Where’s my phone?” You asked yourself. Chan looked around the dashboard and the floor where you sat.

“Should we go back?” He asked. You nodded.

“Yeah.”

Fast forward a few minutes and you were back at the party again. You and Chan opened the door and looked around, but didn’t see it anywhere. Junseok and Seoyeon came up behind you with confused and/or concerned looks on their faces.

“What are you looking for?” The boy asked. You didn’t really look at him, but you replied.

“My phone. I know I had it when I got here.” You explained. From behind, unbeknownst to you or the two men, Seoyeon smiled devilishly.

“I could try calling it.” Junseok offered. You nodded, then stopped him after a moment.

“It’s on vibrate. Crap.” You muttered. Seoyeon fiddled with the device in her pocket, shutting it down. After a few moments, you and Chan gave up and left. After saying your goodbyes, you plopped on your bed, exhausted.

You went to sleep that night with a sinking feeling in your stomach. Something didn’t feel right.

This one is much longer than a few of the other chapters! I tried to make up for my lack of posting lmao. I hope you enjoyed! Just a reminder: If you want to be tagged on my posts, send me a DM or an ask. I’ll add you to the tag list!

* DISCLAIMER: I do not own any gifs/photos used in this post. I do own the written content. Do NOT repost/edit. *

🏷 @a-toxic-galaxy • @hoshithehamster • @woo-for-woojin

#kpop #fanfictions #headcannons #reactions #ships #imagines #stray kids #skz #bang chan #chan #boyfriend #barista #love #cute #ulzzang #3racha #cb97 #christopher #christopher bang

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linneawritesstories · 4 years

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Guide to Fall Art and Writing Challenges

In my last post, I briefly mentioned some of the art and writing challenges that take place in the fall. From writing a short story every day to experimenting with different art mediums, here is a guide to fall art and writing challenges.

Continue reading on my website or below the cut.

Fall Art and Writing Challenges

There are so many to choose from! But first, I want to get something out of the way: Inktober.

The Controversy Around Inktober

For those who don’t know, Inktober is a hugely popular month-long challenge in October. Participating artists create an ink drawing every day to improve their skills with the medium. There is an official Inktober prompt list that you can either choose to follow or ignore. Even if you’re familiar with Inktober, you may not know that there is a current controversy wherein Alphonso Dunn alleges in a video posted on August 26, 2020, that Jake Parker, the creator of Inktober, plagiarized sections of his book Pen & Ink Drawing: A Simple Guide in Parker’s new book Inktober All Year Long. Here is Dunn’s Youtube video addressing the issue.

Parker’s book was due to be released in September 2020, but due to the accusations, his publisher has put the book on hold. Dunn’s book was released in 2015. Here is a detailed article from F News Magazine that covers the controversy in detail.

The controversy has been polarizing, and both artists have their supporters. It’s not just an issue of plagiarism, but race as well. Alphonso Dunn is a Black artist, and Jake Parker is white. If the allegations are founded, a white artist has stolen a black artist’s work and claimed it as his own.

If you plan to participate in Inktober, I encourage you to do your own research beforehand. For me, I will not participate until there is proof that plagiarism did not take place as the comparisons of the preview of Parker’s book are VERY suspicious.

Now that that’s out of the way, we’ll move on to art challenges that aren’t laden with controversy.

Brushtober

Brushtober is not a new concept, as there are mentions of the word on the internet for at least a decade. However, it has never officially been used for an art challenge until popular artist Lois Van Baarle announced that she was going to use the hashtag to test out various mediums that require brushes to apply. Her announced mediums include ink washes and ecoline, watercolor, acrylic, and gouache, with each medium assigned to one week in October. Other artists are already following suit, so I can see this evolving into a recurring event. You can find her work on many social media platforms including Instagram and Facebook.

OC-Tober

OC-Tober or OCtober is similar to the two above events in that the goal is to draw every day. Unlike the others, rather than focusing on a specific medium, the goal is to draw your own original characters every day. OC is common internet shorthand for original character. They can be characters from your own original work, or characters you created to participate in a fandom.

This is a more open-ended event, so if drawing isn’t your thing, you can also use it as a writing challenge to write about your characters. It is a popular event without a sole person running it, so there are a few prompt lists floating around. The goal is fun and to let people know about your characters, so you can be as simple or as detailed as you want.

Blacktober

Blacktober is a new event for and by Black artists. This event was co-created by Céli, a Dutch/Afro-Carribean artist living in Denmark, and Black Card Members community where Black artists re-imagine their favourite characters as black “in media where [they] are underrepresented.” The hashtag has exploded on Twitter and Tumblr, so be sure to follow it to see work by amazing artists.

A quote from Celi:

Blacktober is a month long exclusive event where Black creators get to turn their favorite characters into something that looks like them or draw their Black OCs using the official prompt list or their own! The event is meant to overall have fun by putting a fun, representative twist on their faves be it from anime, western cartoons, video games, and more!

@pianta

here is another Blacktober that you may not know about, hosted by Big Black Chapter. This event is for authors of colour and features 31 horror prompts for the month of October.

National Novel Writing Month

Now, October is not the only month in Fall, nor are artists the only creatives. National Novel Writing Month takes place in the month of November. Since that title is extremely long, participants often shorten it to NaNoWriMo or NaNo. The challenge is for writers around the world to write a novel in a month. The official NaNoWriMo site defines that as 50,000 words within the 30 days of November.

Unlike the other challenges on this list, NaNoWriMo has been around for decades. It began in 1999, but was officially established as a non-profit organization in 2006. It is by far one of the most popular challenges for writers, and has its own vernacular. “Kickoff” marks the start of NaNo on November 1, with many local groups holding events late on October 31st so that writing can begin right at midnight. A “Wrimo” is a NaNo participant. A “write in” is when participants from the same region get together to write. “TGIO” stands for Thank God It’s Over and marks the end of National Novel Writing Month on December 1st.

National Novel Writing Month can be brought into schools, and it even has a separate website for its younger participants, called the Young Writers Program.

The event doesn’t just take place in November. After a break in December, NaNo returns with the “Now what?” months of January and February where writers work on finishing and editing the project they started in November. Your first draft is never your best draft! Then there are also smaller events in April in July, called Camp NaNoWriMo, that are less official and where you can choose your own word goals.

Other Fall Art and Writing Challenges

This is not a comprehensive list by any means. September, October, and November are popular months for artistic challenges, and I’m sure there are dozens of community events that I haven’t even heard of! For example, I learned of Blocktober, an event for game developers/designers, while fact-checking this article. So if none of these are your jam, keep looking. Your thing is out there.

Which challenge is your favourite? What challenges did I leave out? Let me know down below!

#Guide to Fall Art and Writing Challenges #Inktober #NaNoWriMo #Brushtober #OCtober #Blacktober #art challenges #writing challenges #events #about

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vroenis · 4 years

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Mood Dependence

The first tag I drop on the entry is of-course Kentucky Route Zero.

I forget whether I’ve talked about this before so here we are talking about it again some more. While I was playing KRZ and occasionally posting about it on social media, among others, two particular friends responded to me about it and we engaged, having some good discussions on and off. I suggested that playing the game might be highly mood dependent, but that for me engaging in most art is mood dependent, the only thing that varies is to what degree. If I was still more of a wanker, I might suggest that the more artsy-fartsy a product is, the more mood dependent it is but that’s not the case. I very much have to be in the right frame of mind to engage with Marvel or Bravest Warriors as much as Gaspar Noé, it really does depend on the individual and what mood they’re most frequently in or find themselves in at the time.

I find it affects more than the consumption of and engagement with art, tho. I don’t know if it’s a bipolar thing or a human thing and I say that a lot; it affects my ability to write, create, engage with people - enact actions in the world. The only thing I have to brute-force my way thru is of-course my employment which raises particularly interesting capitalistic questions of societal structure. I’m not entirely here to smash the establishment tho - there are times where discipline is useful; on a base level, discipline and the ability to overcome how we feel assists us with survival and sure it’s disgusting to apply that to the nth degree entirely in the ultimate capitalist sense, but again on a base level, being able to hold down a job in an of itself isn’t necessarily evil. Before we go Burning Down The Corporations, I need to make careful distinctions between my mental states and my physical states, as a first example. Minds and bodies are complex systems and understanding them is my responsibility.

Nevertheless I can never stray too far from my iconoclastic nature and Art-capital-A is one of my most primary motivators. There is definitely plenty wrong in the world at large we have created over generations and the societal structures therein regarding how we understand people and psychology and I’m fairly certain we will never address it to our ultimate destruction, that is fairly observable, mundane, and an immense tragedy for literally billions of people who will luck out in the birth lottery or have already done so. Art is the only thing that from a pragmatic perspective is both meaningless and unnecessary and so becomes the most essential and important thing for humanity. We must inject the most meaning and emotion into it possible. It becomes charged with the most powerful intangible things we have; our emotions. This is why bad art must be celebrated and documented. Anger, frustration, humour is just as valuable as everything we think is noble.

It’s also why the struggle to create is very real and perhaps one of the greatest challenges. It’s probably why I pushed myself to write today. Usually I’m cautious about pushing myself to produce, and I want to again be very careful with the language I use being so capitalist, even if only by stating it. It’s hazardous discussing everything in terms of product - I know I mentioned in a previous entry and Capitalism tries to convince you that everything you create is a product and it has no value unless someone is buying it, so a reminder to myself and to you that it’s not what’s happening here. I could frame it as exercise, and I’m now thinking (typing? lol) aloud in that an exercise is effectively an investment - a preparation for ability, capability for the future and again it all sounds quite capitalist, doesn’t it? Do we always do things only with the hope of some kind of profit? A return on investment? Do we evaluate everything only if and when there is a return, at the valuation point, like a board game about speculative stocks? If the board game never concludes because of an unforeseen interruption, do we not name a winner and so the game and the stocks - the product and our labour - never had any value?

Do I write this to answer these questions, or only to ask them, and which has value?

All the philosophy majors will have a lot of angles on what has value or whether there’s any point to value at all as a frame which is great. Value as a phenomena is a whole Thing - we can discuss whether or not I have any intent to create or suggest Value capital V (that’s getting annoying, I know, so that will be the last time) but that will be fairly pointless.

(I made that; you can steal it).

Over the last few entries, I’ve not directly talked about the one monumental current event that’s dominated the attention of world at large. If you note the dates on these entries and you’re visiting from the future, you may have to look up what was happening around now if I haven’t mentioned it explicitly anywhere as I likely won’t. There was one vague reference to it in the Kaossilator post which is as close as I care to get. There are so many other things happening in our lives (J and mine) that I’d say were interruptions, but they’re not really - they’re just life, but they’re the daily challenges that make creating difficult.

It means coming here and writing weekly or bi-weekly, as is my intention, is a challenge. It means turning on all my gear and working on music is a huge challenge. It means watching films and sometimes even YouTube is a challenge. A lot of it it energy dependent, heaps of it is naturally time dependent, but for me a significant portion is mood dependent and my understanding of that is it’s more dimensional than just not feeling like it.

Over dinner a while ago, our family were discussing films released in 2019 and which was my favourite and honestly I think I got around to seeing one. I think the next most recent film I saw in the last 12 months was Hereditary which I enjoyed most, so if I see a film within 24 months of its release these days, I’m doing well. Mostly this is due to time and opportunity, but it’s mostly due to mood; I just don’t want to watch most films, even ones I’m interested in seeing and want to watch.

Our hosts also asked us what we thought of the place as they’d just recently moved in and were still in the process of moving things around and my perspective was and is that I like subtle - and often not so subtle suggestions of separations of space for application. When I read, I read in specific places. When I create music, I only do it in the studio, tho there are exceptions when I take one or two smaller pieces of gear out of the room as that’s a ton of fun for a refreshing change. When I play games, it’s on the consoles down at the television, the same goes for when I watch films or shows - we don’t have more than one room with TVs in them, and while J can and does watch shows on her iPad in bed, it’s not something I can do. For me, I want a dedicated space in which I focus on film to engage with it.

This applies to the times when I create and engage with art, too, and I’ve mentioned before that there are even times when I do and don’t listen to certain albums or pieces of music. In this post-KRZ life I’m in, (need to change the name of this journal to Art Worth Dying For: or Life Post-Kentucky Route Zero), I’m trying to write these longer posts every Friday night after work, but it’s turning out to be either Saturday during the day, Saturday evening or on the Sunday. During the week I try to add something shorter, but I do want to maintain some semblance of regular discipline because writing is good for me, in particular in lieu of ceasing other online activities. I’ve found that engagement in general is low on other platforms, and while it does occur rarely and at a moderate level, it isn’t regular enough for my liking. Like many, I’ve taken a somewhat passive role on Instagram where the Stories are utilised to post temporary activity and engagement is higher, and on Facebook I respond to posts in the Akai Force group where necessary but only when relevant which isn’t often.

I’d rather come here and write endlessly and be orderly, in short and long-format text, and as expressed in my Instagram stories; even post images in a more static format that invites slower digestion and contemplation with a view to better interpolation of text and context of that text in relation to the images.

It doesn’t matter that I don’t have an audience here, what matters is that I like the form and format and that it feels right for my expression. It allows me to inject value into it, so I guess it’s good product then; even if no-one is buying. Good ol’ capitalism. I don’t know if writing discipline will lead to music discipline, that’s certainly not one of the aspirations I maintain - if it’s a side-effect, it’s welcome. Nevertheless, there’s a charm in writing publicly and being able to come back, re-read my thoughts and reflect on what comes out when I plug directly into what’s going on and let some of the previous week spill out, delineated in text and a few images - these tiny snapshots of what life is like for me. I feel like it’s valuable, insightful even if just for me, for what my life is becoming, the Art that is shaping it along with the events I’m experiencing - am subject to. That’s ominous, as it should be. It should be for us all. We are subject to Art.

#Kentucky Route Zero #Video Games #chrono #2020 #Mood Dependence #Capitalism #Perception of Value #Creating #Creativity #Steal This Art #Social Media #Writing About Writing #Consuming Art

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angelbabylu · 5 years

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The Art of Losing // AI

pairing: i created an oc for this bc its pretty heavy

prompt: Imagine you and Ashton are married and have a baby girl. You and your baby girl are driving back from a long day at the carnival and you get into a bad car accident.

warnings: this is supposed to be sad okay, warnings for death, drug use, & problematic domestic situations

word count: 5.5k

notes: this is for @myemptywallets who sent me the prompt. i hope this is does your prompt justice. shout out to my love @5sosnsfw ! thanks reading and editing this. love you

title from the poem One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

- before -

There is no sound in the dressing room as Ashton sits typing away at the screen of his phone. He had taken a few photos of the boys during sound check, and now he’s posting them: Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, the works. With his focus buried deep in the world of social media, he is lost to the world around him.

A voice floats through the device on the desk in front of him, disrupting the silence with an exasperated, “Ash.”

He lets his eyes to flicker up to the neutral-faced woman on the screen for a half a second before shifting his attention down to Twitter once more.

“One second, babe. I just need to send this tweet.”

With a heavy breath, she tries to convey her feelings of discontent. Were Ashton paying attention, he would have picked up on it in seconds. Then again, were Ashton paying attention, she wouldn’t be upset in the first place.

“Ashton, I think you guys are big enough now that you can hire someone else to run your twitter account.”

He doesn’t hear her. Or, if he does, he’s too engaged to respond.

It takes a full minute for his head to pop up and his eyes to meet piercing ones, their intensity dulled by the LCD display. She never quite looks the same behind a screen. Something about her felt diluted by the machine that separated them.

“What?” His thick brows furrow, creating a deep V in the space between them. She is opening her mouth to restate herself when his brain catches up.

“Baby,” he scoffs. They had talked about this. “You know how impersonal that is to me. Our fans deserve to hear straight from us.”

This time he keeps his eyes on her long enough to take in how disconcerted she is. Ashton knows that face better than his own. There were hours in years past that he dedicated to learning her every emotion. On that day that Ashton said those fateful words (“Maren Anderson, will you marry me?”), he promised to always do what he could to keep her happy. His current actions were contradicting that vow.

“Mare, you okay?”

The look she gives him says that she obviously isn’t. He feels a twinge in his gut at the realization that he had been neglecting her. Placing his phone back in his pocket (after covertly hitting send on the tweet), he gives his attention over to her.

“What’s up?”

“I miss you.”

It is three simple words, but the weight of them is enough to crush Ashton’s heart. This is why he had become so engrossed in the business side of the tour. Being the band’s personal PR agent is just one of the many tricks he uses to keep his mind occupied. The more menial tasks he finds to consume his days, the less time he spends thinking about to what he left behind at home.

She reaches her left hand up to sweep her hair out of her face, the diamond on her ring finger catching the light, sparkling on screen. Ashton still remembers the day he gave her that ring - more so than the day he had stumbled into Tiffany’s at Saks Fifth Avenue, drugged out of his mind but sure of one thing: how much he wanted her to be his wife.

“Why aren’t you on tour with me again?” He tries to keep his tone light, recognizing what the scrunch of her nose meant. If he allows the conversation to continue with professions of just how much pain the space between them is causing, she will inevitably start to cry. Selfishly, he doesn’t want to go on stage thinking about his wife crying thousands of miles away, with no way to comfort her.

“We’re blaming Eden,” she says, and that is just the segue he is hoping for. If there is one thing that could put a smile on both their faces, Eden is it.

“And where is my little devil?”

His wife is sitting on the couch in their living room, and if the smile she shoots over the screen of her phone is any indication, so is their five-year-old daughter.

“Daddy!”

The scream is accompanied by high pitched giggles as a flurry of dark curls materializes on screen, dislodging the camera from her mother’s hand. In the next second, Ashton is facing the light of his life. She is smiling, as always, her dimples the size of craters on her cheeks.

“Hey! How’s my favorite girl?”

“Once again, your daughter comes on screen, and you forget I exist.”

His wife’s voice comes from somewhere to the left of the device, meaning she doesn’t see the roll of his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he calls out. “Who are you again?”

Neither Maren nor Eden take lightly to the joke.

“Daddy, don’t be mean!” the curly-haired kindergartener chastises.

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defeat. “What are my two favorite girls going to be up to today?”

Maren’s head pops up on screen then, resting her cheek gently on the top of their daughters head. She doesn’t take the phone from Eden, knowing how much she likes to be in control during these family FaceTimes (“She gets this control thing from you,” Maren never hesitates to tell her husband.)

“We’re going to the carnival!”

He catches his wife’s guilty eyes over his daughter’s head. Just last week she had sworn they wouldn’t go to the carnival, citing it as punishment for Eden’s recent unruly behavior.

“We’re only going for a few hours,” Maren tries to explain. “Because Eden was good and cleaned her room today without me having to ask.”

“And I spoil her?” His voice is incredulous, hinting at a conversation they’d had numerous times before.

Eden, too clever for her own good, comments, “You both spoil me.”

The sound Ashton releases is an embarrassingly loud guffaw. Eden is sharp, to the point where Ashton is continuously amazed by her mind. Of course, he remembers watching his younger siblings mature, but something about watching his daughter, someone he helped bring into the world, go from only being able to laugh and babble to now developing her own firecracker sense of wit, felt different. He is immensely proud. And grateful to be blessed with someone as amazing as her.

“Your eyes, your smile, and now your sass,” his wife says fighting a slight smile. “She is her father's child.”

And she is. The resemblance is uncanny. Not only in their looks, but in their personality as well. They are both talkative pranksters, demanding of attention, always in need of stimulation and excitement. Together, they wreak havoc in their house. They are partners in crime. His wife often complains that they needed another child ASAP. It is easy to feel out of place in the Ashton and Eden Show.

“I’m daddy’s child when I’m bad, mommy’s child when I’m good, and uncle Lu’s niece when I whine too much.”

Eden recites the mantra Maren has been repeating since Eden could talk. There are more sayings for the other boys as well. She is Mikey’s niece when they couldn’t get her away from her video games and Calum’s niece when she is melodramatic.

(A few days before they had gone on tour, Ashton had walked into their house to find Eden home from Kindergarten, sprawled out on the tan carpet of their living room. His wife at their record player with a Depeche Mode album in hand.

“What’s going on here?” he had asked.

Maren shrugged. “She came in, threw herself on the carpet, and asked for this album.” She waved the Some Great Reward Vinyl in her hand before slipping it out of its sleeve and onto the player.

“Bug?” Ashton turned to his daughter then, looking for more information.

No such luck.

“People are people, daddy.” She said as if there was some great weight on her five-year-old shoulders only Depeche Mode could solve.

Ashton caught his wife’s eyes. Then, as if there was no other response to the scene in front of them, they both sighed, “She is Calum’s niece.”)

They speak for a while, Eden monopolizing most of her dad’s attention. She is in the middle of a nonsensical story that Ashton was having a hard time following.

“Four, five, six hippo princesses and a dinosaur car chase!” Ashton’s mind supplies, and even though he has no idea what that means, he nods along anyway.

A knock on the door interrupts them just as Eden begins to mention Ali’s tater’s and lasers, or perhaps alligator lasers, Ashton isn’t really sure. She pauses though, all three of their attention shifting to the door as Ashton called the person inside.

It’s three people. Luke, Calum, and Michael stumble through the door of their dressing room looking all fired up and ready for the show. As soon as they see who’s one screen, they do not spare Ashton a second glance.

They crowd around the back of Ashton’s chair and begin to all speak at once, offering varying greetings to Maren and Eden.

“Sorry little bug,” Calum begins once everyone has finished exchanging pleasantries. “We’ve come to steal your daddy away.”

Luckily, Eden does not put up as much of a fight as she usually does.

There are tears - there are always tears. The second Eden hears that her dad has to leave, she begins to cry. Her nose scrunches, similar to the way Maren’s had earlier, and her eyes well up with rivers.

“No please,” She begs her uncle. “I wanna talk to daddy.”

All five adult hearts at that moment shatter. The boys know how hard it is for Ashton to be away from his daughter. Truthfully, it is hard for them to be away from her too. At that moment, Ashton is the only one with a child, and in many ways, Eden has become theirs as well.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, they have done this enough that everyone knows how to calm the five-year-old down.

“Eden,” it is Luke’s turn this time. He crouches at Ashton’s side, bringing himself down to be face to face with the screen of the iPad. “You know your daddy & your uncles will call you after the show.”

“Yeah,” Maren chimes in, her hand gently running through the unruly mop of curls on her daughter's head. “And we have the carnival. If you talk to your daddy all afternoon, we won’t be able to go.”

Eden still doesn’t budge. “I wanna keep talking to daddy.”

“My little sunshine.” Ashton and his daughter are twins. He boasts about knowing how to talk her down. “Go to the carnival. Have as much fun as possible. Then later when you get home, you’ll have twice as many stories to tell me and all the time in the world to tell them!”

At the thought of making more memories to share later with her dad, the kindergartener reluctantly resigns. “Okay,” she pouts.

“Love you, little bug.”

They exchange a round of “I love you’s” before Ashton got up and got ready for the stage.

- after: ashton -

Calum receives the news first. He is the closest to the wings of the arena stage that night, so when their manager rushes on stage, only ten minutes of the set remaining, he is the first one she runs into.

Ashton doesn’t realize that he has stopped playing for a full minute. It is not until Michael and Luke stop playing as well, both their attention on Calum, that Ashton begins to register that something is off.

Later, he will tell them that he knows the bad news is for him from the get-go. How can he not, with the way Calum breathes, “Fuck,” and immediately turns to him.

The arena is almost silent now. What was once thousands of fans yelling the lyrics to She Looks So Perfect is now a mass quiet, curious faces. Ashton wonders if the crowd can feel it too, can feel the realization that his manager’s next few words will tear his life apart forever.

“We regret to inform you that due to a family emergency we will be cutting the show short. . .”

Ashton doesn't get to hear her finish the speech because the boys rush towards him, all but forcing him off stage. He knows his body is moving, vaguely aware of the gentle hand at the small of his back, guiding him through the backstage area. His mind - that is elsewhere. It buzzes with one question only: What the fuck was happening? It takes him a full minute to realize he is repeating it aloud.

He doesn’t get his answer until Calum shoves him into a chair in their dressing room - the very same chair he sat on earlier when talking to his daughter and his wife.

“Promise me you’ll take deep breaths after I tell you this,” Calum commands. That is never a good sign. That phrase is not one that is usually followed by good news.

Ashton looks up and meets Luke’s eyes. He is surprised to find that he and Michael are confused as well. Calum is the only one who knows what was going on.

“Cal, what the fuck is happening?” Ashton says in lieu of the promise.

Calum is silent for what feels like a full minute. Ashton could hear the sound of each second passing from the clock on the dressing room wall. Tick, tick, tick.

It counts down the seconds before Ashton hears, “Maren and Eden got into a car accident.”

Luke and Michael release gasps of shock, both staggering as if Calum’s words are enough to knock them off their feet.

For Ashton, the words don’t quite sink in. He is on his feet before Calum’s next breath. The phrase alone is too much for Ashton to process, but he is aware that it is Mare and it is Eden and it is bad news.

“Okay, I need to - “

He doesn’t get to finish before Calum is pushing him back into his chair. “You need to breathe. We have a flight. The four of us. We leave for LA in 2 hours. The car will be pulling up any second now. We’re gonna go to the hotel, grab what you need, and then we’re gonna go.” He speaks like he would were it Eden in a crisis, demanding and almost infuriatingly slow.

“Do you understand?”

When Ashton nods, Calum shakes his head. “I need you to use your words, Ashton. Do you understand?”

He’s not sure his voice will work. He surprises himself when he’s able to croak out, “I understand.”

“Did you want to try eating breakfast today?”

He doesn’t get a verbal answer. Instead, the mop of hair peeking out from underneath the comforter slowly shakes no.

“You need to eat something,” There is a pleading in his voice. Still, he gets no response from the body tucked tightly in the bed sheets.

Sighing slowly, he closes the door behind him.

Maren hasn’t said a word since they came home from the hospital without their daughter. He understands. Some days he’s surprised he’s able to get out of bed at all. His mother thinks that he’s in shock, that the finality of everything hasn’t hit him yet. Maybe he hasn’t realized he will never see his little girl again, never see her smile, never hear her say a sharp comment, nothing. He thinks she’s partially correct. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognizes that this truly terrible thing has happened to him, but if he doesn’t give himself the time to think, the time to mull on just how world crushing the situation is, he won’t snap. He won’t fall to pieces like his wife has. And right now, he has to keep it together for her.

When he gets downstairs, he finds Calum, Michael, and Crystal in the kitchen.

There are a million people staying at his house right now. Luke refuses to go home. He spends most of his days curled up in bed with Maren. From what Ashton can gather, neither of them say very much. They just sit together in silence. Sometimes when he walks by the TV will be on. Other times, they’re crying. But he hasn’t heard either of them utter a word. He’s happy (a funny word at that moment) that Luke can be there for Maren in a way that he can’t.

Mikey and Crystal will go home sometimes. Mostly because Maren doesn’t like seeing Crystal, the small 4-month baby bump a reminder that of the child they had lost.

His mom and his siblings are milling around somewhere. They flew in just a few hours after he did.

God. Just 4 days ago he was still on tour. He shook the thought out of his head. There was no point in worrying about how his fans were reacting to its abrupt cancellation.

Calum catches sight of the motion and looks over him with scrutinizing eyes, “You okay?”

Calum had been his rock in the past four days. Ashton will never forget how he ushered him from one place to the next that first night, getting him ready for the plane flight and the subsequent visit to the hospital. And now, there was no way he could plan this funeral without Calum. They were the only ones strong enough to. Better yet, the only ones strong enough to pick themselves up after a good cry.

Neither of them told anyone about the day at the funeral home. Calum had barely been able to clarify, “We’re looking for child caskets,” before the both of them broke down in tears. That was the only time Ashton allowed his emotions to slip. Even then, he forced himself to regain composure, perhaps too quickly. Ashton is afraid that if he lets himself to really cry, he will never stop.

“Fine.” He responds to Calum’s earlier question.

Eventually, his sister joins them in the kitchen and all five of them make breakfast. It is a little crowded, but everyone just wants to be around each other, so no one complains.

The funeral and wake will be later that day. The wake is being held at his house so of course his mom has been up since the crack of dawn cleaning. Never mind the fact that they could easily hire an entire crew to do so. His mom recruits his siblings, Michael and Crystal to help with the cleaning. Calum and Ashton go over final funeral details. And Luke and Maren. . . they cry and try to gather their strength for the funeral.

Ashton makes it through the funeral, his eulogy, and the wake that follows. He makes it to the end of the week. He makes through seven days of his wife not uttering a word to him. So, he feels weak when the thing that finally causes him to break is his mom leaving.

He had rolled his eyes at the airport when she asked, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” and all but pushed them onto the plane. He knew they wanted to stay and be there for him, but his siblings still had school. They had already taken a week off. They made promises to see each other the next holiday and then said goodbye.

It doesn’t hit him until he gets home.

There are no more distractions.

The funeral is over.

The few days post-funeral he had spent shopping for and catching up with his mom and his younger siblings.

Now they are gone too.

Michael and Crystal are home together.

Luke is probably curled up somewhere with Maren.

Calum finally went home to his girlfriend, no longer needed to help plan a funeral.

Ashton is alone.

Maybe not totally alone.

He takes a deep breath and climbs the stairs, en route to his room. He knocks but knows better than to expect an answer before pushing it open.

He’s surprised to find that Luke isn’t there. He’s even more surprised to find his wife sitting up, and scrolling through her phone. “Luke went home?” he asks.

She doesn’t even look up at him.

“Yeah.”

Yeah. The first word his wife has spoken to him since the death of their daughter.

He sits gingerly on the bed. His side of the bed. A bed he hasn’t slept in for months.

“Should we. . .” he trails off, looking at her, hoping to meet her eyes.

She keeps her gaze down.

“Should we talk about it?”

For a minute, he thinks she isn’t going to respond. She’s almost robotic in the way she stares at the small device and in the movement of her thumb. He thinks that maybe if he sticks it out, if he sits by her, she will look up at him and they will finally get to talk about it - to go through this pain together.

They don’t.

“Ashton,” Her voice is small. She turns off her phone, but her eyes never leave it. “Don’t take this the wrong way but - “

Her voice is breaking, just like his heart.

“I’m having a hard time okay? I just want to be alone to process my emotions. I can’t talk about it. It is still too painful.”

He doesn’t know what that means. What he’s supposed to do with that information. A million responses roll through his mind.

He eventually settles on, “Okay.”

Before he’s even out the door, he has his phone in hand, dialing a number he hasn’t touched in years.

- after: maren -

The first words Maren says after Eden dies are, “I need to go get Eden ready for school.”

She’s woken up by someone placing something on her bedside table, and for a brief moment, before she even opens her eyes, her subconscious thinks it’s Ashton waking her up to go get Eden. They had done it many times before. He would make her breakfast, a nice gesture, but inevitably wake her up with the clanging of the breakfast tray on the bedside table.

But this time it wasn’t Ashton, and she would never get Eden ready for school again.

When Luke lets out a shuddering breath, reality comes rushing back to her. As soon as her eyes open, she is crying. She has only seen people through her tears recently.

Luke is crying too.

At this point, it’s two days since Eden’s death. One day since they got home from the hospital. The car was hit on the passenger side, where Eden had been peacefully babbling, playing with a stuffed giraffe she had “won for her uncle Lu” at the carnival.

A drunk driver. Dead on impact as well.

The car had spun out, gone off the bank on the opposite side of the road before being stopped by a thicket of trees. She had been conscious until the airbag deployed, causing the majority of her injuries.

Lucky. That’s what the doctor said when she awakened. She was lucky to walk away with a few burns and a broken arm.

Mourning a child felt impossible. If the driver had hit her side and Ashton were planning her funeral, she knows it would be hard, but some part of her thinks like it would be better.

She has experienced life. Eden has not. She’ll never experience the first day of first grade, she’ll never get her first report card, do a science project, have a first crush, bring a significant other home, anything.

The thought swarms her mind what feels like every second of every day. So much so that she can’t speak. She thinks that if she does, all that will come out is a list. A list of things that she’ll never see her baby do.

So, she locks herself away. Luke is the only one brave enough to come and see her - and even then they don’t speak. They cry and listen to Eden’s favorite albums and watch Paw Patrol of all things. All without exchanging a word.

She leaves her room twice in that first week. The first time, she shuffles down the stairs in search of water. It’s expected when what feels like a thousand voices float up from the foyer, getting clearer as she gets closer.

She knows that all the boys are there. They wouldn’t leave Ashton’s side at a time like this.

When she walks into the kitchen where they’re gathered, everyone grows quiet, watching her as if she is teetering on the edge of a break.

To be fair, she is.

She sees Crystal’s baby bump for the first time since the accident and immediately breaks down in tears.

The second time is for Eden’s funeral.

Ashton even gets a fucking priest. Neither of them are very religious, so it feels disingenuous. She briefly wonders if five-year-olds go to heaven. If Eden is somewhere at that moment, being taken care of.

It’s a nice thought. Something easy to believe.

Perhaps that’s why Ashton got the priest in the first place.

She sits in the back and leaves before it’s over.

Ashton tries to comfort her at times. She’s aware of him coming to her door daily, of the food he sends up with Luke even after she says she doesn’t want to eat, of the gentle hand that he places on her shoulder at the funeral that she promptly shakes off.

She loves Ashton.

She does.

But Ashton is Eden’s twin. They were always joking about that. Now, Maren couldn’t look at him without being reminded of everything she’s lost.

She doesn’t expect it when Ashton stops trying.

The day she sends Luke home is the day she pushes Ashton away.

She realizes too late that it’s a mistake. It means getting out of bed and making her own tea.

The first day she tries but finds one of Eden’s sippy cup forgotten at the back of the cupboard. She spends three hours on the kitchen floor crying.

At the end of the second week, she works up the energy to make an appointment with a grief counselor.

“And how is your husband taking all this?”

Counseling is going great until she gets that question.

She doesn't know how to tell her counselor that she hasn’t seen her husband in weeks. She has no idea where he is or what he has been up to. She never even asked him how he was feeling about the death of their first child.

At the encouragement of her counselor, she makes an effort to reach out to Ashton.

Staring at her phone screen for hours, she finally decides on a text.

Dinner?

She’s not sure that he will respond.

He does, seconds later.

He says, i'll be home in 20.

After all that time, Ashton still came running when she called.

She thinks it’ll be cute to bring back some of their old traditions. The first time she cooks for Ashton, it is after spending an entire day wrapped around each other. Naturally, she was wearing his clothes while she did it. Somehow, it becomes a ritual of theirs: her wearing his clothes as she moves about the kitchen, him watching from the sidelines pretending to help.

What she finds in his t-shirt drawer derails the entire night.

When Ashton walks in, she is not in the kitchen preparing dinner, but in the living room, sitting quietly in the dim light of their table lamp.

“Really?” Maren asks. This is the second conversation they’ve had since Eden, and she feels like this will be their last.

Ashton’s eyes finally fall on the bottle in her hand. It’s a translucent orange with a handful of white pills sitting at the bottom. When she shakes it, its rattle thunders through the room. His flinch lets her know that at least part of him feels remorse.

He had stopped taking Xanax before they got married. It was their deal. She would only marry him if he got clean. To know that he was back. . .

Ashton’s first reaction is to downplay it all.

“Eden is fucking dead, Mare. This is my way of dealing with it. Just like yours is to disappear to your room for weeks and refuse to say anything to me.”

Maren doesn’t respond. She knows that if she opens her mouth to speak, she is going to yell. Gritting her teeth, she tries to keep her comments to herself – comments about how her dead daughter is not an excuse for him falling off the wagon.

Her silence only serves to agitate him.

She has to tighten her grip on the pill bottle as he continues, voice rising as he yells, “What so you’re allowed to feel things, and I’m not?”

Anger bubbles inside her. First, he uses their daughter as an excuse to go back to the dark places of his past, and now he is throwing her own grief back at her. She stands, facing him, but tries to keep her voice level, aware of how easy it would be for both of them to start screaming.

“This isn’t feeling things. This is you not knowing how to deal with your emotions, same as always.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” He asks, as if this isn’t a conversation they’d had before, as if she hadn’t once begged him to go to therapy for it.

“When you were on tour, and you missed us, instead of allowing yourself to feel it, you buried yourself in work and pretended everything was fine. This is no different.”

“You’re comparing the pain that I’m feeling over our dead daughter to me missing you on tour?”

“No.” She knows he is purposely misunderstanding her for the sake of argument. She explains herself anyway, “I am saying that just like how you refused to deal with your pain then, you are refusing to deal with your pain now.

“Ashton, our daughter is dead.” He winces at her impassive tone. That is the difference between them. It has taken her months of depression and counseling to be able to say those words. Ashton isn’t there yet, and she knows that if he doesn’t acknowledge his feelings, he never will be.

“Our daughter is dead. And that is not something that you can forget or pretend isn’t happening with drugs. You need to allow yourself time to mourn her. The drugs? That’s not helping you feel things.” She calls back his earlier phrase again, to drive her point in. “That’s helping you burry those feelings.”

He recoils as if her words are a slap to the face.

“Oh get off your fucking high horse, Mare!” Because of the volume and the intensity of his words, now Maren is the one to flinch. It was like this before too, with the drugs. He was easily irritable, prone to blaming his out of control behavior on anything other than himself, “I had to deal with this shit by myself. You disappeared. I had to plan this funeral while I mourned the loss of our child. And you created this distance between us. You! The only other person who understood what I was going through.”

He’s screaming by the time he has finished.

And he’s right.

That’s the painful part. Maren fucked them up first, but if she sticks around, Ashton is going to make everything worse. She knows she didn’t deal with Eden’s death in the best way just like she knows that Ashton isn’t coping in the best way now. If they continue down this path, they’re just going to keep hurting each other.

“I think I’m gonna go.”

“Go where? We’re not done.”

She ignores his angry protests and sidesteps him as she makes her way to the door.

“I love you,” she says. Her back is to him, hand already poised on the knob. “I will never love someone as much as I love you. And that’s why I think it’s best if I go.”

“Why are you always trying to walk away from us?” His voice is small now, barely above a whisper. She can feel him pleading in his words.

He is referring to the first time she gave him an ultimatum. Back then, he had brought her the beautiful ring that still sat on her finger, but he had been so drugged up he could barely get words out. What she told him then is what she tells him now.

“You need to realize Ash that this is bad for you, for the both of us. When you realize that and you get clean, come find me.”

She looks back at him for a brief second, and the last thing she sees before she leaves are the tears running down his face.

end notes: don’t forget to let me know what you think! thanks for reading!

tag list: @5sosnsfw / @bloodmoonashton / @lukescaboose / @5sex-of-summa / @deviantnines / @halcyonnhood / @gh0st-0f-y0u-95 / @aspiringwildfire / @cal-pal-cuddles / @hotmessmichael / @hereforlukescruff / @softforcal / @ohhmuke / @calum5os / @grittyisathot / @calumamongmen / @ashtonandcalslefthand / @asht0ns-world / @colorful-queen-of-the-roses / @peraltiago-drarry / @slowlyelectronictragedy / @myemptywallets / @pagesuponstpages / @fallfrxmgrace / @thefireisgone / @michaelorwhat / @dammitbands

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin imagine #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos blurb #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin au #ashton irwin fluff #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos fluff #5sos au #luke hemmings #calum hood #michael clifford #my fics #jay writes

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elstonsblog · 4 years

Text

2019

In my last yearly round-up, the goals for the end of 2019 were to have done:

365 drawings (1 a day of place and thought)

52 what I saws

12 reflective writing pieces

12 reasons to be cheerful

12 photographs of tattooed fruit

6 posters

6 punks

6 tattooed people

6 painted objects

6 zines

4 pieces of clothing

A piece of work printed/made

Learn stick and poke

Stall at an art fair

It’s obvious to say, that I didn’t complete all of my resolutions. There were tasks that I started and then fell through – like the 52 what I saw’s, then there were other tasked that changed throughout the year. Looking at these goals again I think my approach for the coming year will be slightly different. Fewer goals, bigger goals with more actions that can be divided throughout the year. Hopefully, after writing this I’ll have a clearer idea of what they’ll be so I’ll come back that at the end.

The work I’ve created this year feels a lot more together than the 2018’s body of work. I’ve found comfort in the barrel pen and the application of a colour palette which helps give the work a sense of togetherness. While in 2020 I hope to expand my processes a bit more this year has been good to build confidence and find the fun in what I’m doing again. The goal of making my work and Instagram page look more varied (as previously it was lumps of the same work) I think has been successful. It has been achieved through daily drawings of whatever pops into my head at lunchtime to then be drawn up and coloured at the weekends. This way of working has suited me well as it gives me something to do at lunch and thinking of 1 thing a day is manageable into my routine... the downfall of it would be that it doesn’t give much room for larger ideas or projects – knowing this now, I hope to set some time aside on weekends to plan those out and then I could use the lunchtimes to progress them.

My way of working is still fairly analogue as all the lines are drawn by hand, scanned and then will be digitally coloured. If I were to get an iPad the processing time would go down but I don’t feel there is a need for that yet as everything I’m doing it on my own time and it’s a process I’m comfortable with that ensures my hand stays in the game.

In 2018 I was focussed much more on observational drawing, this year I have come away from that and started to play around with things a bit more. Using ideas and objects and trying to focus on fun. There have been a few recurring pieces that I would like to continue in 2020, Reasons to be cheerful was started in 2019 and while the ones that have been created could do with a bit of freshening up I can redraw and update those while continuing it as eventually I’d like to make it into a book/poem of some kind so that it is in keeping with the original song. The half heads are also interesting to me to play with, stemming from this philosophy that the mind and body are separate yet connected – opening up the brain allows for better communication of what that person is feeling. I’m not sure what the half heads will lead to in terms of the outcome.. but it’s a nice outlet for me to communicate feelings.

The platform that I am using is starting to increase which is starting to give me a better understanding of who my audience is. Before my nephew was born I was reluctant to do child-focused things but my view on that has changed a lot seeing how he interacts with pictures and toys. For a few months in the latter part of the year, I was seeing my work as being in the soft middle of nothing as it isn’t too much one thing or much the other. With that in mind, I started to make things with soft middles. Felt soft toys that are just like physical drawings, making them takes longer than drawing does but it’s nice to have something physical at the end of it. It’s something that is still quite new to me so there’s an excitement there. Because of the material and general look of the bright coloured soft and squishy objects, they lend themselves to children. When drawing the ideas of what to make I made sure that it was things that interest me rather than trying to use the toys to make only baby stuff, this has also helped keep my interest. A goal for this year is to make stuff so that I can go to stalls – having a face on contact with people will give me a much better idea of who my audience is and meet other creative people.

I’d say that the most successful aspects of my work this year is the progression of my visual toolkit, I’ve found my eyes and my nose and my colours. Things that I’m able to apply to any drawing I do. This has been helpful and I’m hoping it will continue to progress and change as currently when I ditch the nose it looks quite kawaii which isn’t quite what I’d hoped for but with more practice, I’ll find an alternative. This year I need to focus some effort on creating body shapes as many of my drawings with people in are just headshots other than body’s that were observed. I think that’s because when drawing the half heads, I draw them naked. I can do full body monkeys and skeletons and, I’m sure, with the addition of clothes I’ll be able to do people – I just need to put some effort into making sure it happens.

On the flip side of that, my least successful aspect would be refinement and placement. Throughout the year I’ve just been drawing one thing then moving on to the next with no real thinking of what I could use this for, where could I put this.. how can I push it? I think 2020 will see some refining of existing work as now it’s been drawn and I’ve had time away from it I can think and see it differently. I’d like to make some of the things already created into gifs, prints etc. so that they’re not just stuck as they currently are.

Other than a handful of projects, most of my work didn’t involve research into an area or subject – which has led the pieces to be seen at face value, most of them aren’t trying to communicate anything deeper which when looking back over the body of work makes it feel a little light. Not by any means does this mean that my work suddenly has to become all serious or obvious – but I think I could benefit from taking more interest in the news, short stories etc. to attempt to convey messages, tales and ideas rather than just images.

Overall, I think this past year has been a good step in the right direction that I hope to continue taking forward. I’ve played around with stick + poke; made a group exhibition; redesigned my website and opened up more social media channels; made work for other people; designed an alphabet and learnt to sew (to pick my favourite few). Through focusing on drawing happier things I have also held a happier state of mind – I think both things feed into each other. While I’m not where I want to be yet (and I don’t know what that is) I’m positive that by carrying on I’ll get somewhere. My confidence in the drawing is getting better but now I think I need to focus my efforts on application and ideas of the drawings.

In 2020, my main aims are to work towards (and hopefully do) a stall in either Bristol or London along with creating a self-promotion pack to send out to possible prospective clients. I have loosely planned my year with the main recurring projects that I would like to achieve this year, it looks slightly barer than the previous year but having fewer objectives means I can spend more time on them to make it the best version possible. I will be continuing with creating image ideas at lunchtime and working towards a bigger goal in the evenings. There is a possibility of my full-time job ending mid-year so what I’ve set out to do may suffer during deciding whether to do an MA or looking for another job... but none the less, these are my goals for 2020:

Make 24 Felt toys

Make 12 Editorial response drawings

Make 12 Zines

Make 12 Reasons to be cheerful

Make 12 Cards

Read 12 comics

Take 10 Polaroids a month

Write 12 reflection pieces

Design and distribute the self-promo pack

Stall at an art fair

#writing

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kookiesspacebuns · 6 years

Text

Suite 114 | Pt. 1 | ((ON HOLD))

■ pairing: Jimin x Female OC

■ genre/warnings: fluff, angst, eventual smut

■ words: 6k

■ summary: An innocent staring contest leads to a not so innocent relationship.

As soon as the clock ticks 7pm, I throw the last batch of cupcakes I was frosting into the large, industrial-sized refrigerator and let the door slam shut. The loud noise makes me cringe.

I hope my manager didn’t hear that.

Yanking off my apron, I walk to the lunch room and hang it with the others on the wall. My boss, Isa, already knew I was leaving 2 hrs early today but I still poked my head into her office to let her know I was leaving. She responded with a soft smile and ‘Have fun!’ before returning to her paperwork. I was beyond lucky to find such a nice job AND the sweetest boss in the world. Most head bakers in the city were rude, with no care for any of their employees’ feelings. Especially to people like me, who had zero experience.

After 4 years in college for culinary arts, I thought finding work would be easy, but I was wrong. 21 years old and jobless made it difficult to live in the city, but thankfully this job was practically thrown into my lap 3 months ago. How many people can say they were hired through Instagram? I guess all of those perfectly staged photos of desserts I’d upload weren’t a waste of time like everyone used to tell me they were.

A loud honk let’s me know that my ride is here. I look out the front window of the bakery and see my friend, Mina, bouncing in anticipation in the driver’s seat of her car. She’s waving at me to come out with a hurried expression on her face. I quickly turn the shop’s ‘OPEN’ sign on the front door to ‘CLOSED’ and walk out, locking the door behind me. The instant the door latches closed, my heart begins pumping wildly. Adrenaline rushes throughout my body as I run to the passenger side of the car, smiling like a little girl. I practically fall into the seat before shutting the door and buckling myself in.

Mina looks at me as if in shock, “We’re going to meet the most handsome men in the world and you’re wearing….that.” She glares at my shirt.

My eyes follow hers to my soft pink colored blouse with a white peter pan collar. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes this morning. We don’t have time to stop by my place for me to change. So this is what I have to deal with.” I frown.

“Oh no. You are not going to approach your future husband looking like a maid.” She says, almost sarcastically.

My hand goes to cover my heart, pretending I’m hurt by her words. “What if Park Jimin has a maid fetish? You never know.” I purse my lips and try not to laugh, secretly hoping he does have that fetish.

She bursts out laughing and puts the car into gear before taking off. “Well, at least you don’t have to wear those ugly leather shoes you have on.” I glance down at my work shoes. “Because I love you, I brought the converse you left at my house last week. They’re in the back.” She points a finger over her right shoulder towards the back seat.

“Oh my God Mina. You’re the best! I totally forgot I had left those at your house.” I turn in my seat to look for my shoes in the back. They weren’t that easy to find, buried underneath 3 different sweaters and tons of books. I grab them and start to turn around when I spot a black sweater folded neatly on the seat.

“What’s this black sweater for?” I ask.

“Oh, I ordered it online but its it’s a little too big for me. It’s supposed to be oversized, but it’s way too oversized.” She shrugs. I raise one eyebrow and look at her small frame in the seat. She always wears super fitted clothing so the sweater probably isn’t as big as she’s making it out to be. “I have to return it when I get a chance.”

My mind won’t let me get rid of the curiosity about the sweater, so I grab it and open it up in front of me. It feels extremely soft in my hands and the knitted fabric gives easily. Almost all of it is black except for two thick white stripes going across the arms and chest. I instantly fall in love with it.

“I love it, Mina.” I hug it to my chest to show her how much I love it. She shakes her head and laughs at me. “Pleeeeeeeeease let me wear it tonight. Please.” I flash her my best puppy dog eyes.

“Really Anna? You know that doesnt work on me,” my facial expression falls back into place. “You can have it if you like it that much. It can be a super early birthday gift.”

“Awe! Thank you Mina!” My arms awkwardly wrap halfway around her torso in a makeshift hug. She playfully pushes me off of her.

“No problem, girly.”

I slip my arms into the sweater and over my head, pulling it down into place. It fits as perfectly as an oversized sweater can fit, hanging loosely on my sides and reaching almost past my bottom. Sighing contentedly, I reach down to change out of my ugly work shoes and into my black high tops. My feet slipping into my favorite shoes comfortably.

My pink socks, the only item I love from my work uniform, stop right below my knees. The grey pleated skirt touching halfway down my thighs, showing just the right amount of skin.

‘I must look like a school slacker in this outfit.’ I think to myself as I release my hair from its constricting bun and let my long chestnut curls fall down my back.

Mina breaks the short silence with a high pitched squeal. “I can’t believe we’re about to touch BTS. Anna! Are you wrapping your head around this!?” She voices loudly.

My eyes widen out of excitement. “No, I’m not wrapping my head around it fully. It probably won’t even hit me until after we’ve shaken their hands.” We both whine in unison. “I can’t believe that we spent 200 dollars just to touch them. What were we thinking?!”

“I think we were letting our hormones guide us. I just…can’t give up the chance to touch Namjoon’s hand. Anna! Oh my gosh!!!! We’re almost there.” She starts shaking in her seat and fanning her face with one hand. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

I raise one eyebrow in her direction. Calm down Mina. It’s just a hand.

A really beautiful hand…

Oh my…I’m about to touch Jimin’s hands.

His delicate fingers are going to wrap around mine……I bet they are so smooth.

I bet his lips are smooth too….

I clench my eyes shut and cover my face with both of my hands, trying to clear my mind and keep myself from freaking out like my current chauffeur is doing. Mina is practically hyperventilating in my ear, making it hard for me to calm down.

“Mina! Pay attention to the road! We have to make it there without crashing before we can touch them. Okay?!” I say as calm as I can, even though my insides are as worked up as Mina’s.

It would be a horrible death, crashing on the way to a BTS fan meet. Leaving this world before meeting the man that fuels my, mostly naughty, dreams at night. He would see the news of our car crash not even knowing how much he drove my insides crazy. Tragic. Imagining how soft his hands feel is enough to satisfy me for the rest of my life….and enough to have me squeezing my thighs together right now.

You are in so deep, Anna.

Arriving at the convention center, I immediately regret not just taking the day off. The line to get in is beyond ridiculous. At least 200 fans are waiting, in a barely-moving line, trailing all the way down the street. Thankfully as we pass by the front entrance, we notice a separate line with a sign that says ‘VIP Ticket Holders’, which is what we spent a fortune on wondering if it would be worth it or not.

Mina and I speak in unison, “Definitely worth it.” We look at each other and screech.

We park and practically run to the VIP line. Only six other people are in front of us and our line is moving rather fast. I look to my side at Mina who is fixing her makeup in a little pocket mirror, then glance around to see that almost every other girl is doing the same. I grab my lip moisturizer from my little black backpack and apply it slowly while still observing everyone else. Should I have worn makeup? I could count on both hands how many times I’ve worn makeup in my life. I think its it’s mostly laziness that keeps me from even giving it a chance. I still keep a little bag of essentials at home, in case I have to go somewhere formal.

It starts to sprinkle, which makes the ticket holders work a little faster. We enter the building and rush over to the table where they keep all of the extra goodies that are included in our VIP package. One of the ladies hands me a paper-sized photo for the autographs, an army bomb keychain, a pack of 3D stickers, and of course, my VIP lanyard. The main reason we paid for VIP tickets was to participate in the new activity they introduced for this meet. Apparently, we’ll get a random surprise action we get to do with one BTS member. I’ve heard rumors of selfies and serenades, but serenades seem too good to be true. I hope it is true though. I put the lanyard around my neck and follow Mina into the main room filled with seats.

Taking up most of the room are hundreds of folding chairs arranged so that there’s one big aisle down the middle leading to the stage. On the stage is a long table covered in a black tablecloth. Seven glass bowls filled with what looks like folded pieces of paper are evenly spread along the table top. Behind the table is a big screen covering most of the wall, the rest concealed by long, red velvet curtains.

Mina grabs my hand and drags me to the closest seats we can find, which is in the 3rd row on the left side. We maneuver past other fans already sitting down to two empty seats in the middle of the row. Once seated, we take out all of our new goodies and fangirl over them like everyone around us is doing too. I keep staring at Jimin’s beautiful face in the photo we were given. Mina, doesn’t stop talking about how sexy Namjoon is in his black choker necklace he’s wearing in the photo.

After about half an hour the room is completely full and buzzing with the voices of fangirls and fanboys. I’m almost to the point of putting earphones in to block out all of the noise when the lights dim and someone approaches the microphone on the corner of the stage. As the man speaks, he welcomes us to the fan meet and lists the rules we must follow. No unsolicited touching. No screaming in their faces. No kissing. No gifts. No sharing of personal information. And no pushing.

Some in the crowd groan as he finishes saying the rules. When he speaks again, everyone quiets down. “Today we are testing a new activity that’s never been done before. On the table there are 7 bowls filled with slips of paper. Inside each piece of paper there is a random activity that can be done with that corresponding member. This activity is only available to the VIP ticket holders and can only be done for one member, so choose wisely!”

With that, the noise in the room reaches the loudest it’s been so far. Everyone around us loudly discusses what they think the activities are, ignoring the speaker who is trying to recapture the crowd’s attention.

He finally finishes talking and introduces BTS, causing what feels like the whole building to shake as everyone stands up and screams. Namjoon comes out first in the line and Mina grips my arm as she jumps up and down, screaming beside me. The rest of the members file out after him and stand at the front of the stage to introduce themselves one by one, finishing with a bow.

My heart skips a few beats at the sight of Jimin. A smile is plastered to his handsome face and his dark hair is parted to the side, showing just enough of his forehead. Even the way the way he bows makes me scream internally.

They take their seats behind the table and smile at the crowd while giving finger hearts and arm hearts. Jimin does a big heart with his arms and screams, “I love you AMI!”. My heart explodes in my chest at his absolute cuteness.

Now I’m the one acting crazy.

My cheeks flush red and I jump up on my tippy toes to get a better look at him.

Why am I so short?

I can’t control the pout on my face when I fail at getting a better view. The thought of standing on my chair crosses my mind many times throughout the meet. There were several times when the crowd would go wild and I couldn’t even see what happened. Mina is no help either beside me screaming her head off. Thankfully the girls in front of me sit down halfway through, allowing me to finally enjoy myself.

When the time comes to start forming the line to go onto the stage, my nerves are through the roof. Fans are pushing each other and cutting in line, despite being told to line up in the order we were seated. We wait in line, chatting nervously while watching the members sign things and shake hands with other fans. One girl selects a piece of paper from the bowl in front of Jungkook and immediately screams. When she shows Jungkook the paper, he smiles and gets up to lean over the table. The girl takes out her phone and snaps a selfie with Jungkook as he rests his head on her shoulder and holds up a peace sign. My insides do somersaults just imagining taking a picture like that with Jimin.

Many others in front of us pick out slips from the bowls of whichever member they want, each time squealing and screaming as they read the paper; their screams making my nerves worse each time. So far I’ve only seen people receive selfies and kisses on the hand.

There’s got to be more than those two right?

Once we’re up on the stage, I tell Mina to go before me. She obliges and giddily moves in front of me. I watch her with a racing heart shake J-hope’s hand and tell him how much she loves him. He responds with ‘I love you too’ and flashes her a huge grin before holding his arms out towards her. They hug as I stare at them open-mouthed.

This lucky bitch.

He signs her photo and moves on, giving space for me to approach. He laughs at the incredulous look on my face and reaches his hand out the shake mine.

Oh my gosh, I’m touching Hobi.

His hands are rough….

But also so warm.

I blurt out, “You have a beautiful personality.” He blushes slightly.

“Thank you.” he says.

I hand him my picture to sign. “No, thank you!”

I scrunch my face, cringing at my awkwardness.

Well, it wasn’t a lie…

I hope he doesn’t think I’m weird.

I take my picture and move on to the next few members, trying not to talk too much and embarrass myself. First Tae, then onto Jungkook sitting right next to him. He has his arm around Tae’s shoulder.

Taekook confirmed?

Next is Yoongi who is as chill as ever, leaning back in his chair smiling as I approach him. I slide him the picture and say, “Your lyrics have helped me through so many hard times in my life.”

He sits up and smiles brightly at me. “Thank you so much.” he responds.

I know Namjoon is next just by the high pitched squeal coming from Mina’s direction. I look over at her as Yoongi signs my picture. Namjoon is laughing hard at her reaction and points to the bowl of papers in front of him. Her eyes go wide and she hurriedly reaches in to grab one, then lifts it to read.

“Selca!!!!” she says a little louder than necessary. Namjoon mouths ‘Ahh’ and leans over the table to take a selfie with her. He holds fingers up behind her head, making her face turn beet red. I hear the shutter noise at least 5 times before he sits back down.

Yoongi is still holding the photo and enjoying the show next to us. I reach for it and say, “Thank you.” He smiles and waves.

I barely even register Namjoon speaking to me because of the fact that Jimin is sitting right next to him, and Mina is handing him her picture.

Holy shit.

Namjoon waves his hands widely in front of my face, causing Jimin to notice and look over at me. Our eyes meet and my heart stops beating. He smiles at me.

Holy crap. Calm down heart.

I turn my head to look at Namjoon quickly. He’s shaking his head and grinning with one side of his mouth.

Fuck, I hope I didn’t offend him.

“I’m so sorry.” I apologize quickly and hand him my photo. He takes it and starts autographing it.

“No worries.” he says before handing it back. I grab it and practically bend it with how tense my fingers are, trying to suppress my growing nervousness.

Mina grabs my hand, pulling me out of my trance, and practically yanks me to stand in front of Jimin. She must know how jumbled up my insides are.

Jimin is gazing at me with raised eyebrows when I finally look up at him. His plump lips pursed together as if he’s trying not to smile. I stare at them for a whole second too long and lay my photo on the table in front of me.

My mind goes completely blank, “Ahhh……”

“I love your bracelet.” he says.

What?

Out of instinct I grab my right wrist with my other hand and look down at it. My silver chain bracelet with a single chimmy charm hangs loosely around my wrist.

Duh….how could I forget?

“Uhh…..thank you!” I spit out awkwardly.

Shit. He has to know now that he’s my bias…

I make eye contact with him a few times before I remember the bowl in front of him. He sees me glance at it and pushes it towards me on the table.

Smiling, I reach in and grab a piece of paper hoping it will be something that will help break me out of this awkward situation I am in with Jimin. Park. Jimin. I mentally cross my fingers and open the slip.

I furrow my eyebrows at what it says and hesitantly look at Jimin’s eyes watching me intently. My mouth opens slightly.

“Staring contest?” I say questioningly.

His face immediately lights up and a blinding smile spreads across it. “I wasn’t expecting that!” he exclaims.

A quiet giggle escapes my lips, “Me either..”

Jimin laughs at my confused face and reaches out to grab both of my hands. My heart flutters wildly in my chest at the sensation of his skin grazing mine.

Ahhhhh.

He’s….touching me.

I hold my breath and try to savor the feeling of his soft hands on mine, locking it in my memories for later reference.

“Are you ready?” he tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to respond.

I’ll never be ready…

“Yes.” I respond, barely above a whisper.

He grabs both of my hands tighter and runs his thumb on the back my left hand. My soul leaves my body as he bites one side of his bottom lip.

I’m not gonna survive this at all.

He licks his lips, “Okay…..Go!”

Our staring contest comenses.

I try not to think about how dumb my face looks right now, my eyes wide open trying not to blink and my mouth open as well, concentrating as hard as I can. Those deep brown eyes staring back at me widen and come closer.

He wiggles his eyebrows trying to get me to break, but I hold steady and bite my lip hard to withhold from breaking eye contact.

When he lowers his head slightly so that he’s gazing up at me under low lids I feel heat surge to my cheeks and unwillingly to my core.

Oh my God. This is actually turning me on.

My cheeks grow even more red with the thought of being turned on by Jimin…..right in front of him as he watches me.

I notice him moving slightly in his seat before he let’s go of one of my hands and puts it under the table, out of view. My heart drops at the loss of his warm hand but he repays me with a quick slip of his tongue over his lips, then pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it lightly.

I accidently let out a barely audible groan, but it must have been loud enough for him to hear because his eyes immediately go wide and he lets loose of the tight hold he has on his lip. A slow smile creeps across his face. It’s as if he knows how he’s affecting me with those eyes and mouth of his. If only he knew how much they did affect me most nights….

I feel my hand being turned so that my palm is facing up, then his finger sliding from my wrist all the way to the tip of my middle finger, sending little shocks up my arm and through my body. I almost look down at what he’s doing, but I mentally catch myself. I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can handle.

My lower abdomen is tight and tingling when he separates his lush lips and runs his tongue over them slowly and sensually. I blink rapidly and inhale a harsh breath before covering my face with both of my hands and whining into them.

Fuck. I lost.

It was well worth it though.

A beautiful and heartwarming laugh makes me uncover my face and look my victor in the eyes. I pout my lips, pretending I’m upset. Which is honestly far from the truth. I’d gladly lose 100 times over just to see him lick his lips like that again, despite the embarrassment on my side.

He has a cocky grin on his face when he says, “I won.”

So much blood rushes to my face that I feel faint for a moment. I’ve never been attracted to cockiness up until this point.

“Yeah…that wasn’t fair at all to me though!” I respond.

“Why?” he asks with a quizzical look.

Really?

“You can’t expect me to not crack when you’re making those types of faces at me.” I cringe inwardly realizing that I basically just confessed how much his actions really affected me.

He smirks again, “What types of faces?”

My eyes go big.

Wow.

“You….uhh.” I look away for a split second then turn back shaking my head. “Nevermind.”

“Come on,” he laughs.

I start to reply but stop when I see Namjoon nudging Jimin in his side to get his attention.

“You’re holding up the line.” he tells him.

I glance to my left to see that everyone in front of me has already gotten off stage and gone back to their seats. Jin is sitting to the left of Jimin, staring open-mouthed at me.

Holy crap.

He must’ve been watching everything transpiring between Jimin and I. I now have a permanent blush on my cheeks. I smile softly at him and turn back to face Jimin when I hear him speak.

“What’s your name?” he holds out his hand in front of me.

Does he want to hold my hand again?

“Don’t you have a picture for me to sign?” he says in his soft voice.

“Oh! Yeah!” I hand him the photo to sign.

“So, what’s your name?” he smiles.

“Uh. ah…..Anna.”

“Anna..” he repeats it back to me softly. My name falling off his lips like a treasured word, making my heart squeeze. His hand moves across the picture gracefully as he signs it.

The noise of the rest of the room starts getting loud again. I look to my right to see the next two girls behind me glaring daggers my way.

Geez…

Jimin is still writing as I look away from the girls’ harsh stares. How extravagant must his signature be if he’s taking this long? Maybe he’s writing a cute message for me too?

Just as I start to really question how much longer he’s going to take, he finishes and swiftly hands me the photo.

“Bye.” he says grinning.

This boy and his smiling.

I smile back and wave goodbye before moving on to Jin. He says hi and takes the picture from my hands, giving me the final signature I need. I watch him look for an empty space to sign, his eyes searching the photo before widening and looking up at me fast.

What?

I raise one eyebrow out of habit.

What’s wrong with him?

He looks back down and quickly signs his name before handing it back to me. I grab it slowly and pull it to my chest, wondering why he’s acting so strange.

“Thank you.” I say and head back to my seat.

When I reach my seat, Mina is staring at me as if she were looking at a ghost.

“What!?….What is it?” I ask, thinking there must be something wrong with my hair or maybe something stuck in my teeth. Panic seizes my chest as I think of how that could be why Jin was staring at me so surprised.

I sit down in my seat and continue watching her, waiting for her to answer me. “Mina, what?” She looks around us, causing me to follow suit. Everyone close to us is either openly glaring or trying to act like they aren’t.

“People keep talking about ‘the girl holding up the line’"

I look back up on stage to see who shes talking about when it registers that it was me. I AM the girls who was holding up the line.

Oh God.

“Umm….how long was I up there?” I ask.

“Well, I’ve been back in my seat for almost five minutes now.”

“Five minutes!?”

She nods her head. Everyone must be mad that I was at the table longer…..Oh well. I shake my head and sit back. I try to enjoy the rest of the event and pretend I don’t feel everyone staring at me.

Watching the rest of the fans finish up on stage, I can’t help but glance at Jimin every once in a while. Unexpectedly he’s looking right at me when I look over at him around the fifth time. I freeze, not being able to break eye contact with him. Soon another fan goes up to him and he looks away.

It’s not that I don’t want him to look at me, it’s just that it feels like I can’t breathe every time he does.

We make eye contact a few more times before I decide to stop looking his way.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Hey, I have to go to the bathroom….I’ll be right back.” Mina whispers.

“Okay.”

The crowd starts screaming and some stand up as soon as Mina leaves the row. I look over in the direction where everyones looking to see two girls taking pictures with Jungkook and Tae.

I wish I could’ve gotten a picture with Jimin.

Subconsciously, my eyes look over at Jimin. He’s relaxed, leaning back in his chair and staring right at me. It’s not a friendly stare, more like a dark stare. He glances around him then holds a picture up in front if him and points at it.

I furrow my brows and look down at the signed picture in my lap. I totally forgot to look at it after everyone signed it. Lifting it up, I glance over everyones signature until I get to jimins.

But its it’s not just a signature…

He wrote my name with hearts on either side followed by his beautiful signature. Underneath is smaller writing. I bring it closer to make out what it says and my heart drops into my stomach.

There’s a hotel name….and a suite number.

Suite 114.

What?

Suite 114….

HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

I know he’s watching me from the tingle I feel on the back of my neck. For sure he’s laughing at my reaction to seeing what he wrote. I’m not even sure if this is real. Is he serious? Is this a joke? Why would Park Jimin want me to know where he is staying?

My stomach heats up just thinking of the things that could happen in that hotel room. Things that I’ve dreamt of many times….

But he might not be thinking that way…..

The tingling feeling is gone so I peek up at him while still keeping my head down. Thankfully he’s signing a photo and not staring me down, making me feel nervous. I can’t take my eyes off of the way his dark hair falls in front of his face. He runs his hand through those black locks and hands the fan her picture, returning his gaze to me once again.

My heart is beating three times faster than it should be as I stare back, not having the mental strength to look away. He flashes me a devilish smile and licks those plump, pink lips once again.

He definitely doesn’t want to just have tea with me in that hotel room…

As hard as it is, I avoid looking towards his end of the table for the rest of the meet. It eventually ends and all of the members of BTS bow and exit the room. The crowd is enormous and it is complete HELL leaving the building, and even worse leaving the parking lot.

We manage to make it back to my apartment around midnight. It should’ve only taken us half an hour to get there, but instead it took two.

On the drive home I told Mina everything that happened between me and Jimin in excruciating detail. She started crying as I described the encounter. To be honest I’m not sure why I’m not crying as well. My ultimate bias wants me to meet him in his hotel room. It’s like I’m living in a fucking fan fiction! Mina didn’t believe it was true until I took out my picture and showed her, which probably wasn’t the best idea seeing as she almost drove off of the road after looking at it.

We walk up the steps to my door and enter my apartment. Well, me and my sister’s apartment. I share one with her for financial reasons. And besides Mina, she’s my best friend.

Mina is grabbing onto my arm as we enter, talking rapidly about whether Jimin could introduce her to Namjoon or not. My sister is sprawled out on the couch half asleep when we walk in and turn the lights on. Mina immediately runs over and throws herself down beside her, grabbing her shoulders. She takes a deep breath before spilling the news.

“Guess who got Jimin’s hotel room number!?” she practically yells in my sisters face.

My sister, Vee, dramatically rubs her eyes and turns to look at me. “NO…You didn’t!” I see her eyes sparkling. I can tell she’s about to freak out like Mina and join in on her bouncing from wall to wall in excitement.

I sigh, “Yeah….” I cover my ears to protect them from the glass-shattering scream my sister releases. She grabs Mina’s hands and they jump around the room like excited children.

Why am I so annoyed by this?

My thoughts are all over the place, my mind almost not even believing I’m awake right now. For some reason, seeing my sister and best friend flipping out makes me want to lock myself in my room. Maybe I just need time to comprehend it all.

I turn, heading in the direction of my room. I make it halfway down the hall before my sister grabs me and pulls me back towards the living room.

“Wait. Why aren’t you freaking out, Anna?” she asks me.

“I don’t know….I am on the inside, trust me! But it’s just so surreal, I feel like its it’s too good to be true.” I’ve never been one to get my hopes up, and this situation was no different.

She holds her hand up to her face and shakes her head. “Well it’s real! Do you even know what this means?!” she smiles hard and waits for me to reply. I just shrug, not having the energy to express everything I’m feeling right now. “Wait….what exactly happened. How did it lead to that?”

As I head to the kitchen to grab something to drink, Mina tells her everything that I described to her on the drive here. I open the fridge and to grab a bottle of water when I see a half empty bottle of moscato in the back. I grab it and pour myself a glass, filling it nearly to the rim. I down half of it, barely even tasting it.

What am I going to do?

Wait. Why am I even questioning this? I can’t deny Park Jimin.

But what if this is all a big joke? What if I show up and him and the rest of BTS laugh at me for having false hope. I don’t think they’d do that…..not those angels…..but it’s all so skeptical.

What if he does this all the time?

Oh my God. What if he just wants a one night stand? I mean…I probably wouldn’t say no but…still it’d be nice knowing what I’m getting myself into before I show up.

Ugh I just don’t know.

My sister’s voice makes me jump, causing some of the wine in my glass to splash onto the floor.

“Well, someone’s clearly stressed.” she giggles and puts her hand on her hip. “Since when do you drink my wine?”

“Since….now.” I tilt the bottom of the glass into air as I gulp down the rest of the wine before placing the empty glass in the sink. I wipe up the little that spilled onto the floor and face my sister.. “Vee, I don’t know what to think right now.”

She and Mina stand side by side, staring at me in disbelief.

“What do you mean you dont know what think?” Mina half yells. “You need to think about what you’re gonna wear when you go to meet Jimin…..easy as that.” my sister nods in agreement.

Groaning, I look at them both. “I don’t know guys, what does he want though?” I say, even though deep down I know full well what he wants. The thought makes my body temperature rise.

“Maybe he wants to get to know you more?” says Vee.

“Or maybe he just wants to fuck.” Mina states matter-of-factly. I groan again and cover my face with my hands.

My sisters voice gets closer, “You’ll never know if you don’t go Sis, and don’t even stand here and tell me that you’d say no to him if that’s what he really wants.”

“I need to go lay down.” I let out a sigh.

Mina gets the hint and pulls me in for a hug, “Okay, just let me know what happens.”

I walk her to the door then head to my room, bypassing my sister as she stands in the middle of the hall.

“I really just need sleep first, Vee.” I say, avoiding eye contact.

My room instantly calms me as I enter. I shut the door and lock it behind me. I find my pajamas and change into them before throwing myself on my bed.

I am so mentally exhausted and confused that I don’t even consider taking a shower. I need to stop thinking and close my eyes. I soon fall asleep and drift into my dreams….

MASTERLIST

#jimin #park jimin #bts jimin #btssmut #jimin smut #smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #fluff #bangtanhq #ficswithluv

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houseofvans · 5 years

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ART SCHOOL | Q&A WITH DAVID CHUNG (THE CHUNG)

Artist David Chung’s paintings, drawings and sketches are filled with colorful anthropomorphic characters from sword wielding pandas to rainbow spilling landscapes where skeletal heroes battle fuzzy cute creatures. Drawing from his own experiences and psyche, David’s uses his adorable and hilarious creations to help deal with the everyday stresses of life and as a form of catharsis. We’re excited to feature the work of David and talk about his art, his work as an Art Director at Dreamworks TV, and what new projects he’s got in the works!

Find out more about David Chung by taking the leap below!

Photography courtesy of the artist.

Introduce yourself? My name is David Chung, but a lot of people might know me as The Chung!! I’ve been living in Los Angeles for the past 11 years now, which technically makes California the longest place I’ve ever lived in my entire life. During the day I work in animation, currently as of this interview, I’m an art director at Dreamworks TV, but at night, I’m my own artist, free to do whatever I want!

How did you get into painting and art as a kid? What kinds of things were you influenced by? I’m not really sure how I got into art as a kid. I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. Much like all kids, I’ve always just enjoyed drawing and making art. I realized early on that I could be as weird as I wanted to be in my drawings, and that was a really liberating feeling. Earlier in my childhood I was raised in Hong Kong and Taiwan but my highschool years were spent in Upstate New York, where I graduated from. I pulled a lot of my influences from growing up in Asia and having a Chinese background, but the subjects and humor mostly came from living in the States.

How do you describe your work to folks who’ve never seen it before? I might describe it like watching an animated kids’ movie with a lot of jokes your pervy parents would appreciate.

You have various creatures and characters throughout your work that we love. Storytelling and humor are elements in your works as well. Can you tell us a little about how each piece evolves? What is your general artistic process like? I’ve been finding myself creating new characters based off of new ways I need to deal with my life at the moment. The characters that are in my work are compartmentalized parts of my psyche or emotions. Being able to take the everyday stresses of life and make cute characters go through it in a more harsh and humorous way is a really effective form of catharsis for me. About 90% of the subjects in my work are autobiographical. The humor in my work is just another way for me to prevent myself from ever taking myself too seriously. If I can’t laugh at my own work, then what’s the point.

Do you have a main protagonist in your work? And who or what is it? How did it come about? It really depends on what I’m going through at the time of my life when I paint my characters. For example, my XiongMao (Panda) character was created during some pretty rough times. He represents my persistent side to survive. Grimothy (the little reaper dude) and Xiaguai (his little chinese demon friend) are my two mischievous daydreamer characters that are all about ditching their responsibilities to have fun adventures. Pouty Pig is the side of me that throws silent tantrums anytime he is unhappy about a certain situation, which apparently is a lot. These are just some of the few recurring characters in my work depending on how I’m feeling. I even have a few recurring antagonists such as the Happy who are pink soulless zombie-like creatures who roam the earth seemingly always happy, but they feed off of people’s energy like vampires. If you ever let them get a whiff that you’re not happy, that’s when they attack. I think we all know people like this. Right?? They’re the worst. I hate them.

What was your last adventure that showed up in one of your work, thematically or just visually? I do these sketches in my Instagram feed called “Procrast-O-Sketches” that usually follow my most current adventures. The overall sketches can be interpreted however you like, but for myself, friends and family in my inner circle, the subject matter is pretty esoteric.

A pretty straight forward Procrast-O-Sketch is from Sept 21, 2018. We just moved into our new house in the beginning of September, and about 2 weeks after moving in, my 2 year old kept crying that there is a monster living in the house. He keeps saying it’s a shadow man that “kind of looks like Daddy” but sometimes it turns into a dog-like creature. He’ll be playing and being super happy, then all of a sudden he’ll see his shadow man, then will let out a terrified scream, scramble over to myself or his mom and cry that “The man is back!!” We’ve been trying to turn it into a game now by going monster hunting together, which seems to be helping. At least helping him... I’m terrified as shit now.

What is your favorite thing to draw or paint? I love drawing or painting creatures and characters in familiar situations that are way worse than my own.

What are your favorite tools? Currently, I always have my little Pentalic Traveler Pocket Journal, a kneaded eraser and a good clutch pencil with me just in case I need a quick therapy sketch session to take out any frustrations. I feel like brands and mediums change all the time, but a good ol’ fashioned pencil and a sketchbook are always constant.

What’s a medium you have yet to try and would love to take a stab at? Oh man, there are way too many mediums I’d love to try one day. I would really like to try oils again. I haven’t messed around with oils since I was in college. I also really want to try out ceramics and bronze casting.

Not only do you draw and paint, you also work as an art director and designer at DreamWorks by day? What’s that like and how did you find yourself working for such a cool company? Dreamworks is a pretty awesome company to work for, and I’m not just being paid to say that. They’ve made me sign a contract to say that. But you know, overall it’s pretty awesome because of the people. I love being able to collaborate and riff off of other artists every day. All of whom are working toward the same goal of making the best looking product possible. I’ve been working in the animation industry for about 10+ years now, and over the past decade, I’ve met some really great people who I know I’d work with again and again like I have in the past. So when a lot of those people who felt the same about me ended up at Dreamworks, I was brought on over, and I’m super grateful for it.

How do you balance your work life with your artistic life? Or are they sort of one in the same? It’s actually pretty easy and difficult all at the same time. I deliberately try to separate my work-life from my art-life because what I do after work, is mine and mine alone. This keeps me from taking anything too personally when there are ridiculous amounts of notes and revisions to be made at work. Nothing is personal, and I’m totally okay with that. My job is to provide them with the work that they want. It’s a lot easier to make revisions when I know that as soon as I go home, I can start working on my own personal stuff that nobody can say shit about.

The hard part is finding the time to have an art-life after work-life. It usually means eliminating good health. Fortunately passion usually wins out over sleep, but unfortunately, “usually” isn’t always. Typical days at work can last 10-14 hours, and when I get home, I still want to be able to hang out with my wife and kid, which means I won’t even be able to get started on my own stuff til around 12-1am. Especially lately, due to the monster keeping my son up all through the night.

What are you constantly inspired by? And who are some of your early and current art influences? I’m constantly inspired by life and all of the little idiosyncratic behaviors we have. Human life is so interesting even at its most mundane moments. There’s always inspiration to be pulled from who we are. When I was in the second grade, I saw Alien for the first time in my life on TV. It fucked me up. I needed to know what this monster was. Then I found out about H.R. Giger when I got a little bit older. It wasn’t necessarily the style that inspired me, but the way the he created. It seemed like an obsession that he turned into a profession. I didn’t even know being an artist for a living was allowed! Lately I’ve been super digging Travis Millard (IG: @theotherfudge), Alex Solis (IG: @Alexmdc) and I was recently introduced to Kamila Mlynarczyk’s (IG: @Woodedwoods) work which is pure insanity and I love it so much.

What do you do when you are not painting or drawing? Lately it’s trying to spend as much time as I can with my family and soak as much of it up as I can before it slips away. While doing that I’ve been messing around with photography and filmmaking as a hobby. Filming my son doing weird shit is super fun. He makes a great subject.

What advice would you offer to an aspiring artist who might wanna follow in your footsteps? You gotta want to do it. And not just because you think it’s a good way to make money. You have to want to do it because you love it. That’s really where it all begins. Next step is to just go fucking do it.

What’s your best Art School tip that you want to share with folks? Could be technical or just advice. This is a continuation of my previous response, but it’s important, after you “just go fucking do it” expect to fail. Don’t even just expect it, LET yourself fail. As long as you learn something from it and never stop trying, you’re totally allowed to fail all the time!

What do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t an artist or doing anything art-related? This one is difficult, everything I can think of that I’d possibly be doing is art related. I’ve always wanted to be a fiction writer or a filmmaker, but those can be very creative. The other thing is to start my own business producing products for creative enthusiasts.

What are your favorite style of VANS? Every time I end up buying a new pair of VANS, I always end up getting the Authentic style. You can never go wrong with them!

What’s coming up for you the rest of the year that you’re super excited about? I’m super excited about two new toys that are currently in production with Martian Toys and Wetworks. Also there’s a bunch of new stuff I’m trying to launch on my own that I’ve been pretty excited to work on, I just need to find the time!

FOLLOW DAVID | INSTAGRAM | WEBSITE

#Art #Vans #Vans Art #Art School #David Chung #The Chung #interview #animation

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caasiturner · 5 years

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Beauty and the Beast

My favorite Disney film all-time is Beauty and the Beast. This classic tale, one that is “as old as time”, has always fascinated me. In kindergarten, It was the first theater experience I had at the PAC. I can still remember the lights, songs, majesticness of the sets. Somehow, even at that young age, I found it to be the most realistic of relationships. Sorry to disappoint, but men are never Prince Charming. At some point, there will come a time they too “act out” and become monsters. Beauty and the Beast didn’t kid itself. It showed how two flawed individuals had to work together to create a love that would last, in spite of all the difficulties they each had to face. They didn’t simply move into “happily ever after”. They had to work to create it. As Belle stated “Here’s where she meets Prince Charming, but she won’t discover that it’s him ’til chapter three!”

In college, this photo was sent to me by a girl I was flirting with. We bonded over both loving this film and not much else. Unfortunately, we didn’t work out, but thankfully I still have this image.

“What if I showed you all my flaws when we first met, instead of showing you what you wanted to see? Would you still feel the same way about me?”

I know at first Beast (fun fact. his real name is Adam) is suppose to be bad, but the older I get the more I relate to the guy. We’re both angry. Incredibly angry. Burning passion and rage against our pasts. Chips on our shoulders from the cursed words and actions of others. A fervent undying fire against any that slight us or hurt us. Afraid to be close to anyone and insecure. Self-conscious over things beyond our control or who we really are. A deep longing or wanting to be loved. A hope for something more or better, yet all we see is an ugly in/exterior. Our mirrors only hold doom and we fear our time is running out for anything truly meaningful.

Unlike Beast, I can hide my monster-like nature. I put on my “Prince Charming” mask, suit up, and smile for the crowds. I can be whatever anyone wants me to be. Perfect gentleman. Wise-cracking douche-bag. An intellectual. A young Dean. Some people can’t imagine performing in front of people. I’ve been an actor from a young age. I’d be who I thought my step-dad wanted me to be. I’d try to be who I thought other kids would like. I’d attempt to be who I wanted my co-workers or people around might want. This attempt to produce a character has even spread to relationships.

My “Beast side” is not just negative attributes, but also what I don’t want people to see. The more sensitive side of me. The side that wants more than what this world and it’s kingdoms have to offer. The side that yearns for real. The side of me that enjoys what the world labels as “feminine”, cooking, cleaning, art and creativity. My “Beast” that I hide away in a castle is my broken past, shattered dreams, and lost hopes. That which resides in a tower is ugly, afraid of being let down yet again, and is broken. I wish for the world to only see the braggado side of me, that which yearns for adventure, an opportunity to impact people and culture, and that which is confident, happy, and going places. That’s the version of me I want people to meet at the door. Not the person I know I am underneath.

Sometimes I feel like I am really two people. Not in a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde kind of way, but more like a King Aragorn. A man who wishes for peace on one side, but isn’t afraid the atrocities of war. Throughout his journey he battles against not only the Orcs of Sauron, but also rages against himself as he figures out who he wishes to be. His quest to end the evil Dark Lord’s reign is also an introspective journey.

“What if I showed you all my flaws when we first met, instead of showing you what you wanted to see? Would you still feel the same way about me?”

I’m assuming I am not the only one. I mean we live in the world where appearance and first impressions are king. Just look at Tinder. You literally look at a person and swipe to decide if you want to meet them. Instagram is just low level marketing, creating a character you want everyone to think you are. Facebook is just a curator of information you wish to share with people. We live in the digital age where online we can literally be anyone we wish. Grew up as a privileged white punk in Beverly Hills? Online you can be a Soundcloud rapper from the ghettos of Detroit if you wish. Why wouldn’t such thinking carry over into our everyday lives?

But this picture always gets me thinking. What if just once we were actually ourselves? Not somebody we think people want to see. Just our actually flawed “Beast” versions of ourselves? Chiefly, why don’t we do that? What are we scared of? That Belle will run away? I know I am. I’m scared I’ll end up in a big empty house with nothing but material possessions to hold onto much like Beast.

Someone recently told me, “ It takes a while for your emotions to actually come through the walls that you have built to protect yourself. You [I, Isaac] ‘present’ yourself as almost detached and use humor to cover up how you’re really feeling.” This person went on to say how they view how I actually am, which is apparently completely different than who I pretend to be.

“What if I showed you all my flaws when we first met, instead of showing you what you wanted to see? Would you still feel the same way about me?”

Would this be better? Would it help weed out people I don’t need in my life? Would doomed relationships end prematurely and save me needless heartbreak? I would certainly be more authentic of a person. I would probably be happier. I wouldn’t live with a cloud over my head. I wouldn’t be angry as I feel I must constantly hide who I am.

To know something and to live it out are two different things. To have something apart of your nature, and to live are separate entities. To believe something and to allow it to dictate who you are are like yin and yang. As Rachel Dawes states in Batman Begins, “ It's not who we are but what we do that defines us.”

So that’s it. That’s my goal for 2019. In 2017 I was wearing a mask, trying to be whatever version of Prince Charming people wished to see. Thankfully in Spain I was forgiven. 2018 was the transformation. I awakened, like one from a deep slumber, saw who I really am, and began to understand the answer to why I am the way I am. I was transformed. 2019 I hope to make one of clarity.To know where to go from here. To dare to show people who I really am instead of what they wish to see. To embrace and accept the “Beast” side of me, but not let my negative attributes hinder my journey forward.

“What if I showed you all my flaws when we first met, instead of showing you what you wanted to see? Would you still feel the same way about me?”

Everyone is currently making resolutions that are unattainable or they will tire of by week six of 2019. I have found it better to make goals. A resolution is something you must meet or else all was for nought. A goal is a shift in mindset and something you can meet even if you missed the standard. Resolutions are like trying to climb a mountain after waking up one morning and wanting to exercise. Goals are like stairs that lead to a better version of you.

So what is my goal for 2019?

To have “Belle” look into my eyes, look past all my flaws, look past the masks and charades, see who I really am and despite it all still say, “It is you!”

Much Love.

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technicolorfamiliar · 6 years

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Art + social media = ???

Note: If this post finds anyone else on Tumblr struggling with creative branding and sharing artwork on social media or any of the issues I bring up, I would love to talk about it! I’m slowly starting to reach out to friends about this stuff, but I also am open to starting a dialogue with others as well.

I want to be a better artist. And I want to be a better artist on social media. The artists I admire on Tumblr and Instagram are insanely prolific and post new content all the time and have hundreds and thousands of likes on their posts. I want to be better about sharing, I want to document my process better than I have in the past. But when I sit down at my desk to draw, I usually don’t think about taking photos while I work. In fact, I often keep my phone in another room so I’m not tempted to stop drawing to check social media (the irony).

So I’ve been reading articles and blog posts about How To Be A Successful Artist On Social Media, and most if not all of them say that one of the things people should do is check out which posts get the most attention and try to figure out why. Is it the content, is it the hashtags, etc. I actually looked at the highest counts on my Instagram and on my art Tumblr, and I’ve got some opinions about what posts the masses are paying attention to.

In the past year and a half, on Instagram, my post with the most amount of likes was a work in progress sketch of Twin Peaks fan art. The same image on Tumblr isn’t as popular, but the finished version is one of my more recent posts that’s getting activity multiple times a day. But the finished version of the drawing on Instagram has fewer likes than the WIP. Interesting? Maybe. Maybe it was the day of the week or time of day I posted it, maybe more people happened to be on IG when I posted the sketch than they were when I posted the final.

After the Twin Peaks sketch, the Instagram post I have with the most likes is a series of mixed media drawings of David Bowie I did this spring. The final, which features six finished images, has only gotten slightly more love than the handful of work in progress images I posted while I was figuring out what exactly I wanted it to be. That David Bowie series on Tumblr is far surpassed in notes by several other pieces of fan art I’ve posted since starting my art blog.

People on Tumblr LOVE fan art, which makes sense. A lot of Tumblr is fandom based, so I get it. People like fan art on Instagram too, but not to the same extent, at least not in my case.

9 times out of 10, people pay way more attention to the drawings I post that are one-offs, the things I draw for fun or for practice. Most of the time, I’ll get only a small handful of likes on any original artwork I post. Which is fine, I understand that I’ve unintentionally created a niche for myself. I don’t expect the people who follow me because I posted a piece of fan art on a whim to take any special interest when I post drawings of trees or animal bones or seed pods. I know my audience(s) and I truly, wholeheartedly appreciate when people like and share and comment on my work. But I also like to experiment with media and subject matter, especially in the past year and a half as I’ve been struggling with major creative block.

As an artist, I love using physical media. In the past, I’ve used digital as a quick fix. I use digital to color sketches and drawings I do in my sketchbook. The vast majority of my posts with the most notes on Tumblr are of drawings colored digitally. Personally, when I work this way, it feels like a cop out. Which is why lately I’ve been forcing myself to use more traditional, physical media. This is not me saying traditional media > digital media, it’s just a current personal preference. I would love to be able to get to a place technically where I can approximately recreate the same style I was doing in Photoshop with gouache or watercolor, etc.

However, on Instagram, people don’t seem as concerned about what media I’m using. In fact, if anything they seem to gravitate toward process work over finished work, and drawings that are less cartoon-illustration maybe slightly more realistic-illustration. And on Instagram, it’s just as likely people will like my original art as any fan art I post.

There is another major difference in my audiences on both platforms. On Instagram, 90% of my followers are friends, family, acquaintances. Between that and my hesitant, beginner’s use of hashtags, my likes coast around the same-ish numbers on popular posts. I also don’t have a separate art account on IG, and that’s something I want to make happen in the near future. On Tumblr, all the notifications come from total strangers who find my artwork through fandom hashtags, or used to, since now that I’m posting fan art created with traditional media, the attention I once got on digital pieces is missing.

This is not a post where I’m trying to get sympathy for a downward trend in activity on my recent artwork. I’m just interested in learning how to have a better presence on these two social media platforms, and maybe learn something about my audience. I think I have to definitely create a separate art IG, as well as be better about documenting my process work since that’s what seems the most successful there. For Tumblr, I’m up in the air about keeping the art account, honestly. If anything I might make a new one, since it’s mostly very old work that’s getting attention these days.

Photo: Artwork by me, 2017 - 2018

#artist on tumblr #illustrator on tumblr #artist on instagram #illustrator on instagram #art and social media #my artwork

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missmyloko · 6 years

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What’s In a Dance? Part 8

This was a requested song and the first that features two titles.

Akebono (曙) - Dawn or Higashiyama Meisho (東山名所) - Scenic Higashiyama

Image courtesy of Gaaplite on Instagram.

The first question on everyone’s mind is, “Why does this song have two different titles?” While most song titles are the first few words of the song itself, this song does not follow that rule. Neither title is actually said in the song, which makes it all the more confusing! Its names are usually used in combination with each other, so when someone says “Akebono” they’ll usually say “Higashiyama Meisho” right after.

Lyrics

Mazu miwataseba Higashiyama, 先ず見渡せば東山, Looking at Higashiyama first thing in the morning, Saewataritaru aki no tsuki, 冴え渡りたる秋の月, Sits a cold autumn moon, Yoi yoi yoi yoi yoi yasa. ヨイヨイヨイヨイヨイヤサ。 Yoi, yoi, yoi, yoi, yoi, yasa. Makuzugahara ni soyo soyo to, 眞葛が原にそよそよと, Beside Makuzugahara, Mosuso mo patto warushare na kaze mo, 裳裾もぱっと悪洒落な風も, Suddenly my hem falls as the wind picks up, Nomichi no ku ni naranu. 野道は苦にならぬ。 The path through the field will be difficult. Kokoro Yasui no miyazukui, 心安井の宮ずく居, My heart is pulled to Yasui Shrine, Chōzu no mizu mo kikusui no, 手水の水も菊水の, Wanting the special water to be purified, Kakeru negai no Iwata obi. 掛ける願いの岩田帯。 As I wish to tie this Iwata obi. Yowai wo tsuguru kono kimi no, 齢を告ぐるこの君の, I will tell you my age, Tsuge wo shirasuru matsukaze mo ume mo, 告げを知らする松風も梅も, The wind in the pines and the plum blossoms will tell you too, Hisashiki haru koso medetakere, 久しき春こそ目出度けれ, Remembering the spring of long ago, Banbanzei to zo mai osamu. 萬々歳とぞ舞納む。 The once eternal dance that was dedicated to you has ended.

The Breakdown

This is an incredibly difficult song to translate as it has a vast amount of background detail that I’m sure I missed a bunch of. The original notes from the discussion of the song and its lyrics were invaluable in trying to understand it, although I am incredibly aware that I left some of the notes out as there’s just so, so much that can be said from what isn’t directly said. This is a long song that’s comprised of four parts, but not really separated into verses like the Gion Kouta. As stated earlier, neither Akebono nor Higashiyama Meisho are ever mentioned, but rather both are implied; the first line states that the viewer is looking at Higashiyama first thing in the morning (dawn) and is describing the scenery around it (meisho). As also stated in earlier parts, Higashiyama are the mountains that line the eastern edge of Kyoto. The first part is pretty straight forward as the viewer is telling us what they see. Good ol’ “yoi yoi yasa” appears again to set the mood. The second part cranks the background information from a 1 to an 11 almost instantly. Way back in Part 2 there was a mention of a famous potter named Kozan Makuzu, and Makuzugahara just happens to be a place in Gion where he set up his shop and founded his art studio. Thus, the author is setting the scene by telling us that they’re walking in Gion when suddenly the wind from an oncoming storm picks up the hem of her kimono. They then think about how difficult it will be to return, likely to their home, because of this development. In part three the background knowledge stays cranked and we’re told about how the author longs to go to Yasui Shrine. This shrine is known for relationships, so people often visit wanting to start a new relationship, keep a current one going, or to end a relationship without bad consequences. Not only do they want to visit the shrine, but they also want to purify some aspect of themselves. The second line was very difficult to write out as the meaning behind the words was very lengthy. The chōzo, not to be confused with the bird-like race from the Metroid series, is a tank or receptacle for water that all shrines have. The kikusui, which translates literally to “chrysanthemum water” actually means water that has been purified and is ready to be used to cleanse oneself. This is likely derived from the chrysanthemum being the symbol of the emperor, who also happens to be the head priest of Shintoism. So, if the chrysanthemum (the emperor) has blessed shrine water somewhere then all shrine water should be blessed by his energy. In the translation I shortened this to “special water” as it required a fair amount of explanation. The last line is incredibly intense as it seems so innocent, yet contains some of the most powerful imagery in the entire song. An Iwata obi, also known as a hara obi, is a special type of obi worn by pregnant women. It’s quite soft and no where near as long as a regular obi, which would be hard to tie over a distended abdomen. It’s meant to support the mother’s lower back so that she can stand up straight and to take some pressure away from the baby. Put together, this entire section tells us how the author wants to go to Yasui Shrine so that they can purify themselves in the hope that they will become pregnant in the future. Finally, we have the last verse that speaks of the author wanting to tell their lover their age. Sort of like in the West, a woman’s age isn’t openly shared unless it’s with someone that they know intimately. Another motif that we’ve also seen before, Matsukaze, comes back and is paired with plum blossoms as a show of intent. The viewer then thinks back to events that happened during the spring a long time ago, although this can also be a metaphor for the start of a relationship. In the end, the author realizes that the relationship (the dance) that she has with this person has come to an end. What’s unique is that the previous three verses only had three lines each, whereas the fourth and final contains an additional line. I’m not really sure why, but it does give the song an interesting poetic effect.

Each Kagai’s Version

Gion Kobu (祇園甲部) Version - Inoue School (井上流) One of the most unique dances in the Inoue repertoire, this dance is fast paced and uses both a mai tenugui and a mai ōgi! It’s a very flashy dance and one that is not easy to perform, let alone in pairs like this example. This version is performed by Koai (小愛) of Hiroshimaya (廣島屋) and Mamekiku (まめ菊) of Tama (多麻). Sorry fans of other kagai, but I can’t find it being performed by anyone outside of Gion Kobu. If you can find a link then please feel free to send it in ^^! __________________________________________________________________ The lyrics provided were translated by myself and gathered from multiple sources; I began with a set that a friend had listed, compared it to two other sets (this was one of them), and figured out which made the most sense when written out as some versions just wrote the hiragana versions of a few kanji and it made the meanings a bit more ambiguous to people who are not fluent in Japanese. In the original version some older forms of common kanji were used so I updated them as this may also confuse people.

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troubleblurose-blog · 6 years

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My Dumbass 5SOS Experiance // Part Uno

I know exactly what you’re thinking. I know, because well, I am one of you. The 5SOSFam that is; I made it sound like we’re our own separate alien race. But look at the people we stan... It makes a little too much sense, doesn’t it? Not even a paragraph in, and I’m already unraveling a conspiracy theory like Shane Dawson. You know him- “You look so fucking something, in my underwear while she wearing them! There’s my poop stain, on her butt.” Yeah, that funny motherfucker.

You’re probably thinking- ‘Oh, just another fan who really wants the same thing I do.’

I’m not gonna pretend, or lie to make my situation seem special. You’re fucking right, that is exactly who I am. We all have our bumps in the road, after all, we’re all human. Or aliens, I don’t really know anymore. It’s not only science that has gone too far at this point, I am now a contributing factor to the random things that make you question what the fuck this world is becoming.

I’m not about to level with you, or give you a sob story. It could seem that way, but every detail I write is a detail I wouldn’t ever erase. Every problem I’ve encountered, or dumb ass decision I’ve written is something that made me the well rounded person I am today. These are past events, though I am currently handling some of the debris of them. I’m still coping with illness, and things like that. When I write these events, just know, while they are awful I am used to them. That sounds bad, but I don’t know any different. They do hurt greatly at times, but that’s just building more character and strength in the end.

-Trigger/Graphic Event Warning-

Let’s start out simple and #relatable; I struggle(d) with:

Bi-Polar Depression (Mood swings between extremely jolly, and devastatingly upset.)

Anxiety (Having a hard time staying composed in times of little stress, or in many social situations.)

Insomnia (Getting little to no sleep/getting no well-rested sleep at night.)

Self-Harm (Hurting yourself in ways such as eating disorders, or various forms of mutilation.)

Suicide (Trying to end your own life.)

Those are the things this is somewhat covering, but by no means are they the point I’m trying to make. They aren’t what make up me, and they aren’t what make up this letter.

To understand the substance of the seemingly overused words on your screen, you need to know a bit about who I am first. Otherwise this could seem like every generic fanfiction. You know what I’m talking about. Eyes are always called orbs. Every meeting involves someone spilling something on someone else. Dicks are always refferred to as members. Calum is usually an asshole with a tragic life story. Mikey is usually a bad boy; who gets a soft spot for the main girl for some unknown reason. Ashton is either super sweet in his old dad way, or a complete arrogant prick. Luke, well he always bounces between popular and nerdy often. Have I made my point?

I’m gonna get relatable again when I say, there isn’t a lot I’m good at. When I am good at something, it has no use in my daily life. I can’t divide fractions, but I can hit every note in guitar hero. I can’t socially interact, but I can make bomb-ass Turkey Bacon Cojacks. I don’t know where all the states are, but I can rap Migrane. My skills are only useful to me, basically. My point being, I was practically useless in class. When I was staying home from school on the normal, from avoiding my problems and lack of motivation, I felt so useless. Like as useless as a newspaper is to a teenager.

We all have some activity that makes us feel important, though. To Donald Trump, it’s putting down anyone who isn’t a straight white male. To Bo Burnham, it’s making people laugh with his odd perspective and unique means of comedy. Me? It’s always been when I’m on stage. I love hearing my voice being amplified to bring together people from all walks of life. When I’m writing lyrics, I feel like every syllable can make a difference in someone’s life. There’s just something thrilling about worrying you’ll sing the wrong lyric, and doing so because you were worrying about it.

I’m not gonna say this was always my passion; when I was younger I made a very motivational speech about wanting to be a mermaid. “I WILL be a mermaid, and I WILL live under the sea.” If you think that’s odd, I know of a kid who wanted to be a trash compactor. After I discovered I couldn’t grow a tail, and I ended up not being a fan of swimming in a casino, I wanted to preform. That’s been my dream since I can remember. I’ve always been pretty witty, like I’d have to leave my wit behind before boarding a plane it’s so sharp. I learned I get more happiness when making others smile, than I do by making myself smile.

A stage is the one place I’m not useless, and being a musician is what I was born to do. I will look anyone in the eye and tell them I'm gonna be so famous one day, because that's exactly what I believe. I know I'm not where I want to be, so it's as simple as I'm gonna move. You need to remember that the only way you can fail is if you give up. It's pretty annoying how bad I am at that. I don't only try to achieve my goals, I try to over-achieve them. I live off my intuition, I'm definitely the ride-or-die type of person in EVERYTHING I do. Making a fool of myself? I'll record it so people can hold it against me for the rest of my life. Dissapointing my parents? Well I am going to Uni for music with no back up plan. Meet 5sos? Well... That's where this fiasco begins.

Welcome to the jungle my fellow fam.

Let’s go back to the first weekend of May 2017. Yes, I really did start this journey on a weekend in May. Yes, I really did it just so I can make that reference. Maybe I started a bit before that, but I committed to it on that first Saturday. At that time I had been in the fam for a couple of months, and I did go through the phase when I couldn’t tell Lucifer and Ashtonio apart. I however didn’t assume Calcium was Asian, I assumed he was Hispanic. I mean have you seen the ‘Hey Everybody!’ video? That was rhetorical, of course you have. He walked dogs, he was practically Ceasar911!

Well at this time I was still self-harming, I was still suicidal, and music is very influential to me. I tend to form bonds with songs because music tends to be my main comfort. Music has always been there when no one ever was. There's just such an intense bond for me, with listening and creating it. When I write I don't just think about lyrics, I can hear the chord progressions and melodies. Unfortunately I don't have enough experience with intstruments yet to share the finished product of my own music.

With 5SOS however, that connection was a lot different. I appreciate the artists always, though I never tend to feel anything more than that. I didn't feel that at all, I felt a boner. I'm kidding, I just really wanted to say that. Usually with musicians, since I am a fellow musican, I tend to idolize the ones who make music I enjoy. Yes, I know I'm stating the obvious. The thing is, after the whole initiation of binging keeks, interviews, funny moments, and the movie- I didn't once feel like they were above me in any way. Not even in a sexual dream enduced by falling asleep to Aerosmith. No, that wasn't too specific of a scenario.

They just made me feel understood in a way no one has. Not just because I'm so proud about being a gigantic dork. We were in the same boat, we had the same oar, we wanted to get to the same island that appearantly no one has heard of, we had the same belief that it exists, and the same thing about not being satisfyed with any of the millions of already existing islands. That was quite the metaphor, hehe. It's chalked down to similar situations, interests, humor, personalities, and impeccable music taste. It could also be that we are close in age, but then I'd be connected to millions of other people. That doesn't sound possible for me at the moment, but wait a couple years.

So I was chilling, laughing at Calcium crossing the border with his homie Mike, when I had the thought- What if I met them? In my mind, I thought there would be at least a year before they come to Illinois again, so I had time to save money. It became a goal for me, one I was quite sure would never happen. As we discussed, I'm an over achiever with all of my goals. So what did I do? Well it would be so easy to say I wrote each of them a letter. I can't do anything that simple, I'm far too creative for that simplicity.

From then to now, in almost a years time, so much happened from there. I met one of my closest friends who happens to be an Aussie; all because of a 5sos meme post, and her lack of ability to use Instagram properly. My family fell apart, and I'm not keen on going into detail. Let's just say I've gotten to consider the 5SOSFam as my only real family. I love you guys, you're a wonderful group of humans with a trail mix variety of nuts. Thank you for existing, and for reading this far.

Over the time I worked, I wrote and drafted maybe 500 different letters? As of late, I actually haven't gotten any letters finished. I made 4 bracelets, not a giant accomplishment. I'm 4/5 the way done with a poster I designed for Calcium. I made Lucas a fetus 5SOS wooden box, and a 5SOS money jar. I wrote Mikey a novel about him as a superhero, with a fan-art for it. That's kind of big actually cause I've never finished writing a longer story before. There's more things, but I don't want to get too technical with it.

I think I have to say the thing that I put most my effort in was a large journal for Ashton. That's because it's filled with art, tumblr posts, and lyrics. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to all of those things. At this point it has some holes because I've drafted the entire 100 or 200 pages over at least 8 different times. Nothing in it is original to the day I started, I made so many mistakes early 2017 for myself and that journal. I was working on the journal when I decided to attempt suicide for the second time.

It's completely crazy, but I've been through a lot with that journal. All of that started with the smallest idea. From the time I started to right now, I've changed so fucking much. I know how to handle my illness, I'm clean of self-harm, I lost a family and gained a new one, I failed at dying and learned how to live, I made an amazing friend, I got closer with my already existing amazing friend, I got a drum-kit, I somehow became a good lyricist, I found my music sound, my singing voice matured unbelievably, I got and lost pets, I got and lost relationships, I'm now in Uni, I'm more independent... I'm finally at the point where I can believe it does in fact get better.

That seems crazy given I've gone through more in 2017-2018 than I did when I came out about my depression, but maybe that's because I know how to spin it. I know how to handle life. Now everytime I'm scared to do something, I do it. Cause that is how you live, that's how you write, that's how you learn. I wouldn't recognize myself. I've gone from broken, bullied, and suicidal to seeing the beauty in my missing pieces, realizing I deserve better, and actually getting out of bed.

I think it might be because of the journal...

Hear me out, hear me out. I'm not saying it made me who I am, there's a difference between knowing and believing. Just like the difference between reading and comprehending. The difference between seeing and feeling. When I started that I could only talk the talk. Hell, when I started I had a case of putting them on a pedestal. It was never intentional, at the time I didn't even think I was worth anything. Now I see them as equals in most ways, cause when I see them be how they are I feel like I belong somewhere. I mean, I've always strayed from the majority just because I'd rather be myself and be disliked than be liked for being someone I'm not. I never saw the appeal in fitting in other than having someone to sit with at lunch. I didn't need to belong, even though it would have been nice to feel at home somewhere.

That's what I got when I found the dorks. I don't have to play a part to feel like I belong around them. I can be me, and still feel like I fit in. Not conformity, but genuine compatibility. Before them I was made fun of for being weird. I was made fun of for having my own style, for the song references no one understood, for how much I giggle. I was made fun of for my a many ambitious, none of which being realistic. But I still do all of these things. I still sing louder than everyone else. I still air drum and head bang to songs like Careless Whisper because it's really funny in contrast. I still play games, randomly balance objects on my head, dance in public because I don't give a shit about what people think when I'm having fun. 5SOS just helped me realize that girl who I wished I wasn't for most of my life, is actually the only person I'd ever want to be. Unless I could be Will Smith as Deadpool, then I immediately trash my last statement.

This is gonna get a bit heavy for a moment, but during that last attempt, as I was losing life I was legit thinking about them. How messed up is that? My life was so shitty my dying thoughts were about four idiots from Sydney. But that's how it was, they were my coping skill. I couldn't hold onto life for me after that, so I held on for them. Not because they'd know the difference if I was gone, let's be real, they wouldn't. If they knew of me then maybe, but I was so low on life's food chain at that point. I held onto the idea of making this epic stuff, and handing it to them.

I'm not even done with the journal!

I had a history of putting too much of myself into things and then being let down and loosing that part of me. So I don't do it, but it became something I did without realizing it. I don't know what I thought would happen. Maybe they'd like who I was, and would want to have a conversation. Maybe I'd be thrown into the fanfic life and get to hang out. Like a beach bonfire filled with laughter, various awesome people, classic rock, teasing, and knowing me, lots of dick jokes accompanying many innuendos. Maybe I'd end up in LA, and get signed to a rock label. I know I'm saying it like it's simple, trust me, I know all too well the effort it takes.

I gained some real maturity, and became even more well rounded. Though I was always the mature one who made a few mistakes here and there. That's one of the reasons I didn't fit in, I was like a 30 year old when I was 13. I'm not gonna say it wouldn't be cool to end up being their home diggle, but now I'm living for me. I saved myself, and they influenced me to. They leant me a helping hand. It would be epic to chill, or to collab on a song. Hell, if I got an opportunity to get signed to Hi or Hey I'd take it in a heartbeat. A small part of it is because I think the dorks are cool in their own odd way, but mostly because the company itself is an awesome fit for me. It produces the same sound I'd like to make, and it sends the same message-

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