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ofbreathandflame · 10 months

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At some point, we've got to hang up the idea that the 'Grisha are an oppressed group comparable to real life, and the Darkling is a misunderstood hero of the story." The allegory is always going to fall apart before it can hit the ground running. It's a very unserious argument. What are we even arguing at this point? The person with very spooky, unlimited power, who is immortal, and can very well live a normal life if they wanted to is comparable to being discriminated against for very real, very obvious things such as skin color, features, gender and sex. Like if someone wanted to kill me for being black or being gay, or anything of the matter-- the fear is not founded in anything tangible. It is just a justification for violence which I am powerless to stop.

Being afraid of an immortal, shadow dude with the ability to live beyond normal years, can kill me in an instant, can create shadow creatures are a valid fear??? Being afraid of someone with natural superhuman abilities is a...valid fear.

The allegory is going to always fall apart, same with properties like X-Men (to an extent: I do think Magneto is well-written allegory at points in his run) . It doesn't work so please stop trying to make it work. Darkling is a good character in an otherwise mediocre world, its totally fine to like him without having to play the mind games here.

But also--I think this is why a character who represents a true villainous revolutionary will always be Erik Killmonger, my beloved. There are so many layers to his ideologies, that even the muted nature of Disney does not smear it. A revolutionary for the people can still be an agent of oppression. I found myself agreeing with Killmonger all the way throughout the movie, on an ideological level. I empathized and understood his visceral rage, I felt that. But I also think that at a personal level, he (1) wasn't the person fit to lead that change (2) he had a power problem. On the surface level, it's very obvious that Erik feels the plight of his people, that is a very real emotion. On a deeper level, we can argue that he has an ego problem and he doesn't see his own people as well...people (see: his casual disposal of his loyal girlfriend, his killing of his personal guard, admitting that he's killed even his own people--the people he supposedly wants to free). I think many WOC can attest to the intricacies of oppression within our communities - especially where the cis men in our communities lie. (also see: the intricacies within Black Panther Party; Ron Karenga torturing black women; many more black men-led revolutionaries throwing black women and black lgbtq+ under the bus in these movements, etcs)

Anywho - I suggest you guys read Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison if you are interested in such complexities. It is one of my favorite books ever and I think it deals with oppression within oppression very well.

#pls leave it at the DOOR #he's a good character with nuanced motivations #for sure #but he's every bit the villain of the story #we should not be taking that plot point in the books that seriously #it is written unserious we should keep it that way.#alina shadow and bone #the darkling #aleksander morovoza #this is not a hate post #so block at your leisure #queued #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse #shadow and bone

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ggtess · 6 months

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Pt. 2 of my Unreal Unearth thoughts / review !!

(Utter bullshit)

(I just looove hozier)

To someone from a warm climate- (7/10) I’ve heard a lot of interpretations of this song and the one that speaks to me most is the tribulations of a violent relationship. Similar to cherry wine, I see it as two lovers from two climates and two separate walks of life being unable to connect naturally (violence against nature) and recognizing this, but pursuing each other regardless (violence against self). To acknowledge the queer coding in this, it could absolutely be interpreted as a homosexual relationship in where the two lovers are wanting to be with each other despite their “unnatural” circumstances. Still making an effort to communicate to one another about their personal climates and experiences. Relating this back to Dante’s inferno, those who were violent against nature, the sodomites, were genuinely placed in this level of hell, so I’m not pulling this out of my ass I swear.

Butchered tongue- (7/10) let me preface by saying I’m not well read on the colonization of the Irish, but wow did I feel the generational headache radiating from this song. Losing culture or rather having your culture stolen from you is an incredibly violent act that the narrator of this song seems to be mourning. To once again acknowledge the themes of loss in this song, the sullen feel is harsh and biting, contrasting the beautiful, soft melody. Fascinating stuff, I can’t praise the historical emphasis of Hozier’s music enough. He’s a genius.

Anything but- (4/10) this song is really funny. Obviously representing the fraudulent, the song is filled with false promises and flattery sung to us in such a comedic manner. At surface level it’s a cute love song, but come the second listen you can tell the narrators full of shit. The only reason it’s rated as low as it is is because I just didn’t really love how it sounded. Personal preference.

Abstract (psychopomp)- (7/10) This song gave me such visceral chills that I had to take a break in listening to go grab a blanket and some water. The kindness of lending an animal comfort and community in its final moments is so stark, it’s no wonder it was so impactful to the narrator. I believe wholeheartedly that this is the most musically powerful song on the album.

Unknown / nth- (9/10) The most poetic and devastating heartbreak song to date. In this final level of the inferno, representing treachery, any and all forms of betrayal are felt hard in these lyrics. The title itself is multifaceted- with unknown meaning being forgotten or just a current lack of familiarity- being either a threat to the sinners in this level or a warning to those who are righteous that, as said in the final lyric, there are some people who are better unknown. Besides the gorgeous religious allusions to Lucifer and Judas, this song is just fantastic. It’s the most pleasant to listen to for me.

First light (ascent)- (8/10) a perfect Crescendo to represent an escape from the darkness. Light as a heavenly presence as opposed to a blinding harshness. I couldn’t think of a bad thing to say about this album if I tried.

#hozier #album review #writing #music #Spotify #unreal unearth #dante’s inferno

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lovejustforaday · 3 months

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2023 Year End List - #1

夢之駭客 Dream Hacker - Otay:onii

Main Genres: Post-Industrial, Experimental

A decent sampling of: Neoclassical Darkwave, Electroacoustic, Glitch, Industrial Techno, Drone

Brace yourself, cause from here on out this is mostly just gonna be me fanboying and gushing uncontrollably.

Back in 2021, I had championed the Chinese American singer/songwriter/composer/producer/performance artist Lane Shi Otayonii a.k.a. Otay:onii for her experimental record Ming Ming on that year's roundup, describing her potential to become "one of the greatest producers of the decade". But who is this enigmatic artist?

Lane Shi divides her time and energy between creating and touring with her hardcore noise rock band Elizabeth Colour Wheel, and performing studio black magic with her solo project under the Otay:onii name.

She is also an artist who regularly alternates her base of operations between two worlds, residing at different times in New York City and Shanghai. The duality of her identity as a Chinese American is a narrative thread that appears many times throughout the artist's work, informing some of the thematic elements of her records.

According to a really great interview she did with the YouTuber Heinos, the moniker 'Otayonii' itself is actually a name that was given to the artist when she met a Seneca First Nations man, who asked if he could call her by the name for 'wolf' in his ancestral language. She liked the sound and what it represented, and so decided to own her new given title.

Musically, Otay:onii is primarily a post-industrial project, but Lane Shi regularly incorporates aspects of darkwave, glitch, drone, traditional Chinese music, and electroacoustic music into her work. Her signature sound is equal parts atmospheric, lovecraftian, primordial, playful, and frenetic. She's kinda like if an ancient vengeful demi-god reemerged from the bowels of the Earth, and learned how to download and play around with studio software on a laptop.

As a vocalist, Lane Shi possesses a contralto range, and falls under one of my favourite niche categories of woman singers I like to call "force-of-nature belters", along with the likes of Tanya Tagaq and Björk. She has a trademark lower register that I would describe as a witch's snarl, a gentler middle register, as well as a higher register that she usually reserves for piercing battle cries and wailing like a banshee.

Her 2018 debut Nag was a comparatively more minimalist, grayscale undertaking, heavy on the more ambient and gothic tones of her sound. A genuinely solid first effort, if a bit less memorable than later records, barring the deliciously dreary eponymous song which is still among her very best.

2021's Ming Ming was an upgrade in all respects. Pulling major influences from Chinese folk music and folklore, I described the record in my previous Otay:onii review as a "true Pandora's Box . . . like the story of a mortal who attempts to enter the realm of the gods". Lots of ominous industrial cyber-magic, with a rare few moments that could have perhaps been edited down or omitted altogether to increase the force of its impact.

So, what to make of her latest then?

Dream Hacker is an exorcism. An inferno of ancient eternal flames envelops this absolutely bonkers and surreal listening experience. Each song carries powerful buildups in intensity combined with impossibly elegant structural competence. Far and away one of the most visceral and transcendent records I have ever beheld. This gets into your bloodstream, like an innate, raw instinct towards entropy.

Otay:onii's work has never sounded quite this immediate, energetic, and dynamic, thanks to the incorporation of avant-garde industrial techno beats that gives the whole project a mighty propulsion. Even during its quieter moments, you as the listener are never far from being engulfed in its unruly fire and brimstone. So many little leftfield moments that made me audibly go "what the fuck?" upon my first listen, too.

To me, this is album of the year not just because it poses the best collection of songs from an artist in 2023 (which, to be clear, it does), but also because it forms the most cohesive and fully realized project of the year. Every moment of this record feels intentional, meticulously crafted, and designed to fit accordingly into a larger entity. This is almost a living, breathing organism unto itself.

Lane Shi described how much of the inspiration for Dream Hacker came to her in a dream, or as she sees it, an "astral projection". Within this dream, she says she witnessed stones being thrown by a child until two of them overlapped, followed by a great light which emerged from the center of the overlap. The imagery was profound enough that she ended up naming most of the tracks after different aspects of what she saw in the dream.

The album starts with humble beginnings. "You Do/Rub" is a two-parter, opening with the haunting, softly swirling piano ballad melancholy of "You Do". The lyrics are deeply cutting and vulnerable, as the artist ponders her shaky relationship with her father as a daughter of the generation where China had implemented the one child policy, breeding stigma against female offspring in the more conservative rural communities. Lane Shi wields her voice like a delicate blade, gracefully and artfully interrogating her father's worldview. The progression of the piano's melody suggests a kind of resolution in ambiguity, resisting rigid, narrow-minded answers to multidimensional questions.

Then quite abruptly, "Rub" completely overtakes and drowns out the serenity of the softer piano song, like a sudden onset computer virus infection. What becomes of this part two is honestly one of the most immaculate timbral frequencies I've ever heard. A glitchy, droning wall of madness forms in dark, ominous, tempestuous clouds all across the sky. Warm colours are sucked out of existence by a black hole, leaving only greyish pale blues. The soul is washed with abrasion until all that's left is the ability to observe. Sound design on this is fucking unreal, as though Lane Shi Otayonii is wiping clean of our universe, leaving only a empty slate to form the basis for her own new sonic domain, wherein she is god of all things.

"Light Burst" is the combustion spark of a rebirth of all things that comes immediately after. Lane Shi let's out a shrill cry of tremendous power and agony amidst the grinding dust and debris of an incredibly dense and intricate industrial techno concoction, built upon her long standing love affair with minor second chord progressions. This track does not relent, adding more and more layers to its already colossal tower of babel proportions until, just as suddenly as it came into existence, it vanishes without a trace of detection.

"Two Rocks A Bird" oscillates like an electron creating new electromagnetic waves. Sound particles split into atoms that dance in a mindless frenzy. Even as a regular Arca fan, I don't think I was ready to comprehend something like this the first time I heard it. Subverted all of my expectations. I think the artist may have invented a few completely new sound textures on this track. A highly reactive new form of industrial music.

After deliberating with all of the sheer fucking brilliance to be found on this project, I eventually concluded that "Overlap" was my favourite off of the record. Like the best song on her last LP "Blackheart Breakables", this is an epic midpoint that just continues to build and build, feeding endlessly like a malignant being that cannot be stopped. Hand drum beat patterns are mutated, modulated, and mutilated by industrial electroacoustic mechanisms, while a synthesized flute echos a most forlorn and sinister melody.

Lane Shi takes on the shape of a skillful pyromancer, testing her newfound powers by conjuring a sea of flames that I visualize with my mind's eye as something similar to the Darvaza Gas Crater. Alternatively, I imagine thousand year old stains of bloodshed on the tombs of a ransacked temple, or the ancient terracotta soldiers of Qin Shi Huang's mausoleum brought to life for the purpose of ushering a new war. "Overlap" is just something else, man. My other pick for song of the year.

"Ritualware" opens with a rare calm, dreams swirling on the outskirts of a newborn world that has not reached its zenith. The spacious void bursts to life with a single, literal drop (another brilliant production choice), creating ripples in space-time that give way to a trumpeting sawtooth synths' cacophonous symphony.

"Good Fool" brings things to a stirringly harmonious denouement. The light of the last candle is blown out, and a creeping dusk sets in. Petals of sound float along the wind and promptly dissipate, as everything reaches an uncanny stillness. A hushed, rapid-fire breakdown of bass drums, hand drums, and gongs occurs as the final closing act of the record.

I know I've already said this like a dozen times before about a dozen different artists, but it really needs to be said here - more people should know about Otay:onii. No one I've discovered has been doing anything as consistently exciting, challenging, and infectious as this project in the last few years. As it stands right now, the artist is criminally unknown and criminally underappreciated.

Dream Hacker is the rare ambitious record that dares to be so challenging and not only lives up to all of its potential, but manages to make the old formula of doing things look incredibly obsolete by comparison. Not many avant-garde music albums are this ridiculously fun to listen to, let alone manage to capture sonic worlds that are this truly sublime.

I've probably listened to this at least 40 times in the last year, and I plan on at least doubling that number in the following year. This is not just my album of the year; it is my top album of the 2020s as a decade so far, and already one of my favourites of all time. This record sets my soul ablaze and I simply can't get enough of it. Otay:onii is my new religion, and Dream Hacker is the scripture.

10/10

Highlights: "Overlap", "You Do/Rub", "Light Burst", "Two Rocks A Bird", "Ritualware", "Good Fool"

#album review #music review #list #aoty #year end list #favourite music #favourite albums #aoty2023 #post-industrial #industrial music #otayonii #otay:onii #lane shi otay onii #chinese american music #experimental #experimental music #2023

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microcomets · 1 year

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#i have like………an entire MA thesis' worth of thoughts about the 'running away' trope in queer romance #because it SO consistently appears within specifically queer stories for a reason #text #queue

Please elaborate?

a friend just asked me to elaborate as well LOL so i'm gonna copy over my brain-dump to them under a read more!

basically the main thought i have is that existing in the metropolis, wherever that may be represented in a story, means being subjected to a purveyance of domestic order, which inherently enforces oppressive systems of heteropatriarchy. so i think the reason WHY the "running away" trope persists in so many queer narratives comes from a yearning to escape those structures that are enforced by whatever the site of "civilization" is, which i think is why again so many of these queer fantasies of escape or retreat have a bucolic/wilderness feel to them; a desire to exist apart from that heteropatriarchal surveillance that demands adherence to survive. i think that visceral longing to be free from surveillance (which requires a constant SELF-surveillance of masking your true identity, self-closeting or hiding your relationships, etc.) is something that is very uniquely queer. this could all be much more simply boiled down to "desire for escapism" lol but i think looking at it from a spatial theory perspective is neat…queer folks are used to being marginalized, so with this narrative desire there's a spatial drive toward the margins of society, "uncivilized" wilderness (cottagecore, farmcore, being out in nature etc). of course that dreamworld is always disturbed by reality and the expectations therein, which is that even with a geographical move away from the metropolitan center there is no true escape from its systemic reach; nowhere is truly untouched or a tabula rasa in a modern world, and there are too many strings tethering the characters (family or filial obligation is especially prevalent in queer asian media, but also due to career and self-sustenance reasons). anyway i've seen this in a lot of shows now — e.g., first one that comes to mind is the thai BL bad buddy, where the characters literally DO run away to the coast to escape the expectations of their parents where they're free to be a couple, but then eventually return to society because of the reasons i cited — but i just think it's interesting the sheer amount many queer or queer-coded romances that either portray this as an arc or have its characters express this desire, so much so that that i think it's notably distinct from het romances i've seen

#stilllostinthedaydream #asks

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filmjoyreviews · 10 months

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REVIEW - Insidious: The Red Door - A Perfectly Fitting End to the Series

Insidious: The Red Door is the final installment in the franchise which started with James Wan's Insidious in 2010.

Insidious: The Red Door is Patrick Wilson's directorial debut after starring in the series as Josh Lambert. And he even sings in the film's credits in a collaboration with Ghost, showing everyone his many talents as actor, director, and singer.

Insidious: The Red Door is already a great conclusion to the Lambert family's story, but it's also a win for Patrick Wilson fans who long for him to sing in more of his films--especially after the iconic Can't Help Falling In Love scene in The Conjuring 2. The cover of Shakespears Sister's Stay is a perfectly fitting song for the Insidious series.

Insidious Chapter 2 ends with Josh (Patrick Wilson) and his son Dalton (Ty Simpkins) choosing to forget the Further--the dark realm to which they travel while astral projecting--and even with a nine year time jump, Insidious: The Red Door picks up where we left this plot thread, explaining the dangers of forgetting our past rather than working toward making peace with it and finding a healthy and safe path forward.

Forgetting has left Josh with a brain fog he can't explain--constantly feeling like there's something missing in his mind. This disconnect has made him grow distant from his family, causing a chasm in their once warm and hopeful home.

Insidious: The Red Door expands on the story set up in the first two Insidious films, and does a great job connecting everything together to tell an honest story of generational trauma.

Patrick Wilson's directing powerfully brings the Further back and it looks better--and spookier--than ever.

One of the film's most powerful moments comes when we revisit a scene from Chapter 2, but from a different perspective. Using unused footage from the earlier film brings this moment to life. It truly feels like we are experiencing a memory unfold from Dalton's point-of-view. The new and existing footage blends together seamlessly, creating a mesmerizing visual--and one where we can feel Dalton's emotions through seeing this damaging memory through his eyes.

Insidious: The Red Door is an extremely personal and emotional film, focusing on the strained relationship between Josh and Dalton. Patrick Wilson and Ty Simpkins give complex performances highlighting the trauma and lived experiences of their respective characters.

The dynamic between father and son makes for an interesting film exploring trauma as well as generational differences and how shared experiences can bring us closer together.

In addition to its metaphors of the further representing the Lambert's trauma and their attempts to forget, Insidious: The Red Door also succeeds in its moments of visceral and suspenseful horror.

The Insidious franchise has always done a great job with its well-crafted jump scares, and The Red Door is no exception.

Jump scares can sometimes be quick, relying only on the surprise to frighten us, but Insidious: The Red Door creates its scares through a haunting, build-up of suspense. These scenes of horror utilize shadows and light masterfully, and create even more suspense through repetition and unexpected scares.

As the camera pans to the same spot or the lights flicker, we are still surprised by the location within the frame or the timing of these scares among the repetitions.

The Insidious films always have an underlying humor, conveying horror tropes and embracing the natural camp of the horror genre.

Insidious: The Red Door takes the familiar trope of children creating creepy drawings and instead of making it a result of the hauntings, it becomes a part of Dalton's character and a major aspect of the plot. Dalton's childhood drawings of what he saw in the Further have resulted in him being a talented artist going to art school.

There is a fitting campy energy from taking this common trope and asking us, what if this child who could miraculously create creepy works of art is actually a talented artist.

The film's finale also embraces camp and absurdity--once again connected to Dalton's painting. This surreal ending with its metaphorical ties to the film's darker, serious themes recalls classic surreal horror moments such as John Trent (Sam Neill) in In The Mouth of Madness breaking through the pages of the novel of which he is a fictional character and later, watching himself on screen in a movie-within-a-movie adaptation or Heather Langenkamp--playing herself--reading the end of the screenplay in Wes Craven's New Nightmare.

The moments of campy horror create a great tone, but at times, the film relies on jokes, and these moments tend to fall flat. The natural humor comes from the film's exploration of horror tropes, but doesn't work when it comes to scenes of college frat comedy.

For a final film in a franchise, sometimes new characters are not given enough development or screentime, but that isn't the case with Insidious: The Red Door. Dalton's roommate and confidant Chris (Sinclair Daniel) is a great addition to the franchise.

Chris is a great character who adds to the film, creating wonderful moments of suspense, because we care what happens to her. Sinclair Daniel gives a great performance, capturing the character's unique personality and weirdness that fits with Dalton's. There is an easy chemistry between the two characters and we can't help but get attached to their budding friendship as Dalton uncovers the secrets hidden away in his mind with Chris's help and encouragement.

***

Patrick Wilson's directorial debut Insidious: The Red Door is a captivating exploration of generational trauma brought to life through Patrick Wilson and Ty Simpkins' performances and challenging dynamic. Insidious: The Red Door shines with its well-crafted jump scares, beautifully haunting cinematography, and blend of memory and reality.

#horror #insidious #insidious the red door #patrick wilson #ty simpkins #film reviews

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titoist · 2 years

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i was going to read before bed, but i accidentally stumbled upon a dramatized poem about laika the dog which stirred me so hard that i momentarily entered the state of a bereaved child. in this state of bereavement, my brain purposefully attempted to exacerbate the sadness in some grotesque instinct for self-sabotage - trying to recall songs that leave me disconsolate, cruel reminiscing about personal loss, digging at early childhood memories... etcetera. what i find most unfortunate about this situation, though, is that i'll now have to spend the rest of the night attempting to calm myself down... rather than utilizing the little free-time i had to do what i actually wanted. it's aggressively stupid & silly, but... oh well. - strange, visceral sensation that overtakes my body & my mind when i am sitting in a public space... hidden in plain sight on a bench or next to a fountain, as people pass me by - a disheveled salaryman yelling into his phone or a grandmother talking to herself while nervously fiddling with the pendant around her neck or the beret-clad soldier smoking a cigarette under the rafters who seems to embody a mien of unmistakable sadness - & i idly listen to the conversations and murmurs of people who i don't know, & it feels like... i am perfectly able to assimilate & identify with the crowd, completely contrary to what most people describe as a feeling of alienation when present in large crowds, my usually-visceral feelings of personal identity break down and recede into the background, & in its place it starts to feel like i am simply part of a naturally-flowing organism... an overflowing love begins to proliferate in me for all of them, as equally beautiful protrusions of humanity... united in both proximity & in sentiment. and this indirect, silent love of humanity is, i feel, the perfect distance at which i am able to love them, at which i am able to participate in society. because... then, if i attempt to look deeper, if i start to get ideas that this distance is insufficient, that it will never be a sufficient distance for my love... & if i attempt to close that distance, then... it will all inevitably come crumbling down like a house of cards. because if i look any deeper, then i start to see what each individual of that crowd represents in a vacuum. and it's not very pleasant. my entire life has been built on this manner of silent, benevolent, on-some-level-perennially-hopeful observation. it feels like i'm constantly forced to sit & observe the life that i do want simply be very concretely outside of my reach, like there exists a thick layer of film grain between me & the world. & at times it does feel like it's an incorrigible state of things... but i feel like... if i can get overtaken by the crowd, then i can forget - even if just for a moment - that i'm separate from whoever happens to compromise it.

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bumblee-stumblee · 2 years

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Saw your discussion, and as I understand it "gold star" is a reclaimed term by lesbians as it was used against them in a condescending and homophobic manner by hets. I know you may have seen the way some people (of any sexuality) have talked about or referred to gold star/non gold star lesbianism, but at the end of the day it really does just mean one thing: I as a homosexual was lucky, and I as a female (homosexual) persevered against a world that would convert me every chance it gets.

There is no "hierarchy". There can never be one because a homosexual woman who has "interacted with penis" ... Has been raped or coerced (coercion can occur even when a woman believes it to be her choice, or more likely is not thinking about choice). Homosexuality is simply the inability to be sexually aroused by males physically AND mentally. (I have seen men claim that the female body's last ditch defense against rape, self lubrication to avoid internal damage, is "arousal" - obviously, it is not. Males like that are deranged and should be shot.)

Gold star lesbian, a term that admittedly sounds bad for those unaware of its history, takes on a deeper meaning because it is NOT to demonize women who were raped/coerced, it was reclaimed as a middle finger to hets by women who have simply never slept with men, and are happy about it.

It matters. Because our narrative is not only hardly ever told, it is actively brushed aside. Erased. "Even lesbians try dick to know for sure", no the fuck we do not. Any homosexual who did was coerced, and I am not going to ignore that there are many self-proclaimed "lesbians" (bisexuals) in our community who willingly slept with men, become very vocal about being lesbian, and then return to sleeping with men. Even when they did not intend it, that aids in the slander against homosexual women "not really existing". My ex gay (male) friend even tried to parrot that, ffs, and asked me privately if I wanted to sleep with his "gay" (bi) male friend who was interested.

I am a woman who entered a nearly sexual situation with a guy years ago, experienced a visceral response upon seeing his genitalia, and immediately left. I live in a country where homosexuality is condemned and only accepted by some in secret, some states have corporal punishment and death sentences. And the most I have done with any guy was kiss him on the cheek and hold hands. And even that made me have a panic attack afterwards.

My girlfriend of nearly a decade has never bothered even trying to touch a male. Neither has a couple of my lesbian friends. Not by virtue of not getting harrassed about relationships either.

I've talked to lesbians in other countries that told me things ranging from "we just always find a way out" to "the lesbians here can tell when a ("low-class" - referring to an extremely disadvantaged and demonized population of her country) suicide was a lesbian (before or right after arranged marriage)". Gold star as a term, I'm not saying it's something to represent lesbian issues on a deeper scale, but it's a step in the right direction: affirming that women who are completely accepting and practicing of their homosexuality exists. Homosexuality as an orientation exists in women, it's not some political stance. There are many of us who lead our lives according to it even in the face of extreme alienation and coercion. Further down this line, we could actively campaign for laws that recognize female homosexuality as a protected class in places where lesbians are committing suicide rather than be forced to marry a man to "make them normal".

How can we even fathom campaigning for such rights when males and bisexual women, and heterosexual women as well, keep obfuscating and demonizing the reality of female homosexuality? I understand that female sexuality is often a thing many have to figure out for themselves, because of the nature of indoctrination we experienced growing up as girls (from "find the right man" to male dominated ideas of sex to the disregard for natural female pleasure, to the beast that is pxrn) and that it's not one's place to criticize anyone who may have mistakenly identified into lesbianism (and I don't have an issue with women who are clear about it upon their discovery). I understand that there are genuinely real lesbians who WERE coerced into a heterosexual culture, never enjoyed (het) sex in their life, and are struggling for understanding.

But I'm tired of this unwillingness to define a female homosexual as she really is. The gold star term took hold of many of us because we are tired of being the debatable unicorn. We exist. It's a clumsy, lacking, and outwardly unappealing term, but it came about because we're real and we need to define who we are and what we've done in service of that.

My apologies for the novel.

It was an enjoyable novel.

I tried to get through this without feeling defensive. Not because of this ask but because of previous conversation regarding gold star lesbians.

When it's a conversation about gold stars, I feel the need to mention the circumstances in which some women weren't so lucky, reasons and circumstances i already mentioned in other posts. That other women too have felt this term used to group them into something more resembling a bisexual orientation than lesbian. A 'can't be trusted' type.

I suppose i do have some bias due to some of the lesbians i had been around when i was finally able to be myself. They had used it to elevate themselves or attempt to brag as if they were better than those other lesbians that had not been "pure", insinuating that these other women weren't lesbians at all but rather bisexual.

My brain keeps making connections to internalized misogyny, on their(the group of women I'd hung out with) beliefs that a woman's value as a lesbian changes if she been touched by a man, that everything about her has been changed or tainted.

This was not the case when @deathsunset and @piqued-curiosity responded and i was unreasonably defensive towards them. Both of them didn't declare to be better or other-ed lesbians, they were simply proud and lucky to not have had to engage with males in any manner that was sexual. And PC was right i did feel somewhat attacked i suppose. I owe them both an apology. I'm sorry.

I hadn't known the origin behind Gold Star, past talks of it and association to the term as someone seen as better and more valid had definitely been what i had in mind.

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honestlydelicatepolice · 21 days

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Exploring the Timeless Craft of Handmade Metal Sculptures

In the modern era of mass production and digital artistry, there's a unique allure in the craftsmanship and authenticity of handmade metal sculptures. These creations stand as testaments to the ingenuity and skill of artisans who meticulously shape raw materials into captivating works of art. From intricate figurines to monumental installations, handmade metal sculptures continue to enchant audiences with their beauty, intricacy, and timeless appeal. Handmade Metal Sculptures

Crafting a handmade metal sculpture is an art form that transcends mere technique; it requires a deep understanding of the materials and a profound connection between the artist and the medium. Each piece begins with a vision, a concept that gradually takes shape as the artist manipulates metal into forms that evoke emotions, tell stories, or reflect the natural world.

One of the most captivating aspects of handmade metal sculptures is the sheer diversity of techniques and styles employed by artisans around the world. Some artists specialize in traditional blacksmithing, heating and shaping metal with hammer and anvil to create robust and enduring sculptures. Others employ cutting-edge welding techniques, seamlessly joining disparate pieces of metal to form intricate and delicate structures. Whether it's the fluid lines of contemporary abstract sculptures or the meticulous detailing of figurative works, each piece bears the unmistakable imprint of the artist's creativity and skill.

Beyond technique, handmade metal sculptures often carry deeper layers of meaning and symbolism. Some artists draw inspiration from mythology, religion, or folklore, infusing their creations with allegorical significance and cultural resonance. Others find inspiration in the natural world, crafting sculptures that celebrate the beauty of flora and fauna or explore the complex interplay between humanity and the environment. Each sculpture becomes a vessel for expression, inviting viewers to contemplate the themes and ideas that inspired its creation.

Furthermore, handmade metal sculptures possess a tactile quality that sets them apart from mass-produced art. The texture of the metal, the imperfections left by the artist's hand, and the patina that develops over time all contribute to the unique character of each piece. Unlike their mass-produced counterparts, handmade sculptures bear the marks of the artist's labor, imbuing them with a sense of authenticity and craftsmanship that resonates with collectors and enthusiasts alike.

In a world increasingly dominated by technology and automation, the resurgence of interest in handmade metal sculptures speaks to a longing for authenticity and connection. These sculptures serve as reminders of the human capacity for creativity and innovation, as well as our deep-rooted desire to engage with art on a visceral level. Whether displayed in public spaces, private collections, or outdoor gardens, handmade metal sculptures have a timeless quality that transcends trends and fads, captivating audiences and inspiring admiration for generations to come.

In conclusion, Handmade Metal Sculptures handmade metal sculptures represent a fusion of artistry, craftsmanship, and storytelling that continues to captivate audiences around the world. From the ancient traditions of blacksmithing to the cutting-edge techniques of contemporary welding, artisans continue to push the boundaries of what's possible with metal as a medium. Each sculpture bears the indelible mark of the artist's creativity and skill, inviting viewers to explore themes of beauty, symbolism, and human expression. In a world filled with mass-produced commodities, handmade metal sculptures stand as enduring symbols of authenticity, craftsmanship, and the timeless power of art.

#andmade Metal Sculptures

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antonia-gergely · 3 months

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Food Research

Related to studio inquiry and seminar paper

Cecilia Novero, Antidiets of the Avant-Garde book – reviewed by T. Nygard

“As a critical framework, Novero used concepts from the study of food, such as digestibility and indigestibility, to understand the cuisines developed by artists. The book also discusses the idea of symbolic incorporation of food, and non-food, into the body by eating it.”

Digestibility and indigestibility – I could do that – Michelin food and Abstract Expressionism

The link between the idea of simplicity being easy in art as well as food. “My child could have made that”, or “I too can put a leaf on a plate with a swirl of some sauce”

So, can we bring the idea of traditional food and its longevity to art? Traditional art forms like painting – can we approach them with the same view as traditional foods? Some people do, I suppose.

Preserving the art of painting through ideas of traditional food – not like old paintings. Traditional food is still alive and shifting; people try to find the purest or best version of traditional foods, why is it not ‘innovative’ enough to do the same with visual art?

We need art, we need to create, the same way we need to eat.

We eat to be together, we create art to be together. Self expression in both forms.

Tiziana Andina, “Can Food Be Art?” The Monist, Vol 101, no. 3 (July 2018) https://www.jstor.org/stable/26478113 - held up by theories of Kant

“If ‘food’ is understood as ‘cuisine’, we could say that it obviously involves the creative act of mixing its components together and subjecting them to different types of processing; also, food can be arranged on the plate in a way that is very similar to drawing a shape or making a sculpture. Nonetheless, there seems to be a fundamental difference between culinary products and paintings, sculptures, or music: in fact, however unpleasant a life without art may be, it is impossible to die because of a lack of aesthetic experience, whereas food is directly related to our physiology and is absolutely necessary for our survival.*

For this reason, even if food can be said to have aesthetic value, we have a very natural and physiological inclination towards it. But how can we feel a disinterested form of pleasure for something we know is indispensable for us? This point is stressed by the ‘Interest Exclusion Thesis’ defended by Kant, who maintains that aesthetic pleasure towards a given object should not be based on our desire for that object. He considers the pleasures of eating to be agreeable but not beautiful.”

So using that as art can hammer home social or theoretical concepts intended by the artist. We need food, we understand it innately; as it is directly related to our physiology; so making art from it creates a more visceral link between the viewer and the work.

Wing Sze Leung, The Moral Significance of Art in Kant’s Critique of Judgment: Imagination and the Performance of Imperfect Duties https://muse-jhu-edu.mtu.idm.oclc.org/article/700021

“Scholars interested in the moral significance of art in Kant’s account of aesthetic ideas in the Critique of Judgment (CJ) tend to focus on art’s ability to represent what Kant calls “moral ideas.” They further suggest that, in representing these ideas, art symbolizes our capacity to act according to moral laws. I argue that this reading fails to adequately capture the complexity of Kant’s account, for art’s capacity to represent moral ideas is intrinsically related to its ability to prompt a specific kind of mental operation among the audience—that is, a harmonious cooperation of imagination and understanding.”

“Joshua Landy, for instance, claims that narratives only “preach to the converted,” that is, narratives can improve us morally only if their values agree with ours” – not relevant, just interesting regarding the moral narratives within artworks.

“Poetry is Kant’s highest-valued art form in terms of its ability to express aesthetic ideas.”

#art research #food #art theory #philosophy

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bnrobertson1 · 6 months

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What does the owl mean?

Scorsese’s newest crime-as-narrative-device epic Killers of the Flower Moon is brimming with masterful detail, worthy of study as long as there is light and projection. The morphing of medium, the performances, the production design, and just about everything else weave into an adaptation that wows just as deeply as it wounds. Just the idea of approaching a full-film analysis is daunting* as its (also excellent) source material is thorough. But if there was a prevailing question that surfaced while I resurrected my legs after the hefty, mesmerizing runtime it was: “What does the owl mean?”

*If a picture is worth a thousand words- and that seems a bit low for a Scorsese frame- the movie is worth 324 million words, assuming the standard 24 frames/ second, although I’m sure MS jimmied the speed once or twice throughout.

It's been a few years since I read Grann's revelatory book- and while many of the details have stayed lodged into my mind like a crown-entering bullet, I do not recall any owls. While well-written, what makes the book a modern masterpiece is its incessantly illuminating reporting- and its refusal to indulge in hypothetical connective tissue. The owls maybe in the book in the form of secondhand accounts, but Grann’s spectacular picture is not one inked by speculative surrealistic imagery. The pages' power comes from its unblinking objectivity, so while it may have reported that two women on their death beds saw owls, he would not give them the visceral, vivid, nightmarish treatment that Marty and DP Rodrigo Pieto have. Nor would he give the winged wonders the metaphorical density with which the maestro Martin has imbued them. Marty, unlike Grann, doesn't hesitate to use his well earned artistic license, weaponizing it for maximum impact.

Because even if you're not one who really considers subtext when watching a film, it's obvious that the owl is meaningful. Like, really, really so. Utilizing the bird as liberally as Vin Diesel uses the word "family," Scorsese clearly wants the viewer to consider these creatures, and is willing to essentially stop the plot- twice- for the audience to consider these majestic animals- as they stare right back at us.

In the context of the film, The Osages believe that owls appear to those on the brink of death. Simultaneously resembling a demon and DiCaprio's Ernest Buckheart with proud, enigmatic, robust, and unwavering focus. But there is something unsure about their menacing waddle and beautiful bobbing head- perhaps a reflection of Burkhart's ambivalence in the face of avarice. Sure, the birds both literally and metaphorically portend death- but what else?

While aloof, owls are usually considered benevolent creatures, the mascot of the studious, an animal who’s call is a Midwestern shorthand for amusement (“a hoot”). Most western schools of thought identify them with wisdom and transformation. And wisdom is often connected with light (“brilliance,” for instance), which is associated with truth, which is associated with freedom, or at least, exodus. Knowledge typically goes hand and hand with modernity- can knowledge be bad?

Ask the Osage Indians. Or Adam and Eve. Modern transformation walks hand-and-hand with unrivaled wealth much like a bite of the apple was the gateway to knowledge- but at what cost? Are Innocence and education/evolution mutually exclusive by design? In the case of the Osage, this is not a wealth they necessarily sought- it was given to them nearly out of spite. Does God want us to stay ignorant, and simply be- or to use the resources which he has bestowed upon us? Is money the root of all evil?

Or, does the owl itself represent the wisdom- and thus freedom- that comes with death? “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” and Catholicism- a major theme throughout this, and pretty much all, of Scorcese’s work. But what is the Lord here? Is it capitalism? Is it man’s nature- or specifically, white man’s nature? Is the owl's stare a damnation for our ruining of the planet? Or maybe something is being said about our tendency to wrap meaning around western, feathered symbols?

Article Spoiler Alert: I don’t have the answer, because how I read it, there isn’t any. Or there's many. Same thing. But such is the nature of visual media. The "answer" may not be translatable into language much like the majesty of Guernica could never be caught with words (or Moby Dick captured with a brush or chisel). Much like DiCaprio’s Ernest can illicit feelings both venomous and empathetic, the owl can be multiple- if not infinite- things, most of which are diametrically opposed and/or didactically in concert. For exactitude, one must reference the image itself, brimming with menace. And meaning.

#killers of the flower moon #martin scorsese

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warningsine · 6 months

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https://www.ottawareviewofbooks.com/single-post/2015/10/31/palestine-by-hubert-haddad

Reviewed by Timothy Niedermann

Any author writing fiction about Palestine for a Western audience has two problems. The first is Westerners’ overall unfamiliarity with the Middle East, its long, varied history, and its very diverse cultures, and our attendant assumption of the superiority of Western institutions and practices. The second problem is the polarized, propagandistic nature of the current information that Westerners receive from both sides with regard to Palestine and the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Recently released in English by Guernica Editions, French author Hubert Haddad’s prize-winning 2007 novel Palestine is a brave attempt to get past the political noise and cultural baggage to tell a story of human beings caught in the remorseless conflict between Palestinians and Israelis.

In the southern West Bank, an Israeli soldier, Cham, is wounded in an ambush. Briefly captured by a small group of terrorists, he is soon abandoned by his captors near Hebron. Dressed in Arab clothing, with no memory of who he is, Cham wanders until an Arab scrap dealer finds him and delivers him to the home of Asmahane, a blind woman, and her anorexic daughter, Falastin. As they nurse Cham back to health, they notice his resemblance to Falastin’s brother, Nessim, a university student who is missing and presumed dead. Years before, Falastin’s father was killed by the Israelis. Falastin, then eleven, was with him at the time and is still haunted by memories of that day. She is now part of an underground resistance movement.

After he has recovered, Cham moves through the checkpoints and back alleys of Hebron, learning the other side of the Israeli-Palestinian relationship, as he is beaten and nearly imprisoned, witnessing harassment, raids by the Israeli army, and the razing of Asmahane’s house with her inside. Cham and Falastin fall in love, but her course is set, and she disappears on an undisclosed mission of her own choosing. Alone, Cham joins a terrorist group and infiltrates back into Israel wearing a vest laden with explosives.

Haddad’s main point seems fairly clear: take an Israeli, subject him to the same treatment that Israel metes out to Palestinians and that Israeli will likely become a terrorist, too.

He inserts a good deal of factual information into the text, mostly through dialogue, which is clearly meant to give the reader some background into the history and events that shape the daily lives of Palestinians. The descriptions of the relentless cycle of violence in both its deliberate and capricious forms are viscerally disturbing.

But Haddad also adds literary touches. “Falastin” is Arabic for “Palestine,” and, indeed, the beautiful, thin girl represents the land of Palestine, a place of marvels starved by circumstance. The language is often poetic, giving resonance to the unique and delicate beauty of the West Bank as well as the profound suffering of its people.

But some of this works, and some of it doesn’t. The translation seems true to the French, but Haddad’s poetic images often contain odd or incomplete references. And he seems to prefer using pithy adjectives and adverbs instead of fuller elaboration. An Israeli soldier is described as an “abusive occupier, trapped in resentment”—whose resentment it is, and of what is not clear. Falastin “took in the landscape like a bird with jealous wings.” A breath is “fatal.” Phrases like these are evocative, but at the same time a bit vague.

The plot is thin and moves rather fast. The main purpose of Falastin and Cham’s moving in and around Hebron seems to be to allow the author to describe the checkpoints and abuses by Israeli authorities, but there is little else to create drama or suspense to give credence to the radicalization of Cham.

The characters present another problem. The few Israeli characters mostly are caricatures, either bigoted or lustful. Several minor characters are used as polemical vehicles, and thus come off as overly preachy. This gets tiring. And unfortunately, with the exception of Asmahane, who comes across vividly, the main characters seem distant. We get almost nothing of what is going on in Cham’s head as he fills the blank spaces of his memory with images and emotions from life in his new identity. As an amnesiac, he must be in a constant state of bombardment with what he is experiencing, trying desperately to establish reference points to help him understand what is going on around him. His state of mind is declared, but not developed or illustrated.

It’s similar with Falastin. The haunting memories of her father’s death come across in all their horror, but her current state of mind is presented to us as a given. We never get an intimate sense of her inner person—her doubts, her worries, her conflicts. Her falling in love with Cham comes out of the blue and seems inconsistent with her otherwise detached, driven personality.

Here and there, this is a powerful book, but its defects accumulate to leave the reader unsatisfied and unconvinced.

#Hubert Haddad #palestine #reviews #books

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platonicpinotnoir · 8 months

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I made this blog because I truly had no idea what else I should do exactly other than to continue keeping all my thoughts to myself. And I don't even post here anyway

Well .. I knew it going in that things come and go and that my understanding of various certain things is continuing to evolve.

I was hoping to post more book quotes but in truth i have not been fucking reading LOL.

I haven't made the original posts that I thought I might. I haven't known where to begin.

I could just default onto posting House of Vegeta Fraternal Incest Bait (concept and all of its branches where Vegeta's younger brother Tarble gets wayyyyyyy too fucking close) and then not explain my thoughts or feelings at all. Let it stand as some fandom hogwash and not get into the story at all. Not get into the meanings and messages.

In truth It's been a year and some months with that concept on-and-off and I still don't have a clear story to share. My most recent theory about that is that it's because it was never a story meant for paper, but is rather a form of art in motion that reflects my evolving state.

I say this because I don't understand stories but I've had a few days in a creative writing class and that's enough for me to know that something isn't quite right here. I've never been sure on the theme. I could describe the subject and events in increasingly abstract ways but I never understood the theme. Probably just because I've always struggled with identifying the theme .. I get pretty close, but the definition of the word in my head is wrong, and I've yet to remedy that. I THOUGHT I knew the theme. I thought it was a damning devotion, a failure to establish an individual self, a failure to heal, a failure to follow one's instincts; I thought it was about inappropriate intimacy and the blurry lines when one is already uncertain on what affection is; I thought it was about a beseechment of two and the duet nature of the sexual instinct; I thought it was about the realities of manipulation and how it's by definition based in virtue; I thought it was about madness in the family and the curse of blood. BUT THOSE AREN'T THEMES. And I'm a silly goose

What I DO know:

These characters represent something specific to me

These characters are pre-established characters from a popular media and their specific dynamic has drawn this story out of me

I am seeing something specific and personalized in these characters' dynamic

Sometimes indulging in grotesque stories is thrilling, or otherwise satisfying. The visceral honesty and exposure to the taboo feels essential. Sometimes such stories feel harmful to the self's light, or regressive, or otherwise a waste of time. Sometimes, when the support and proximity of others is felt, it feels downright shameful and ought to be rejected.

There must be a way to reconcile the dark and the light. I can't believe in a world where that isn't a thing. If somebody writes upsetting things because they are upset, that is a vital expression and recognition of the self, but it is only step one, as awareness always is. They must be able to still engage in those matters when they are of a better health, with sensitivity; they can't just eschew it like poison. There must be a way for these two selves to hold hands. Why would someone write about such matters? For comprehension, for answers, for honest sharing? The brighter, more expansive self should be able to continue to engage in those stories; be it because of strength, true reconciliation, a new peace, an interest in recognizing madness in order to prevent it, I don't care - but there must be a negotiation, there must be a way for those two selves to hold hands. A way to gently love the cave-prisoner who needs it. I'm still trying to find that way. As it stands now, "art is art" is a weak defense masking a true weakness when you yourself cannot ascertain and become aware of your purpose.

Um nobody would see any of my posts becasue I am not going to put incest or incest-coded things in the main tags, so only the ones that are Not utilizing that as an explicit catalyst for the madness would get tagged, and well I guess that that's fine. But to be honest the one thing I was always funny on was that, in the off chance that all the wrong people see all the right things... I really don't know how it would end up if weird vegeta-x-tarble-coded drawings started to surface that were in an artstyle strikingly similar to that of ask-tarble. I like that project and I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. One is capable of doing more than one thing with the same characters. In fact, at times, the true serenity and tenderness of the fraternal love possible between them has been important to me. It's a sort of mundane divinity that surpasses healing into nourishing.

Unfortunately, despite what I insisted to myself at the very beginning, I DO think that there is room for overlap between any weird story fit for this blog and ask-tarble. Mostly the dark and irreverent humor. A theoretical ask-tarble future where Tarble manually and deliberately learns how to use the DARVO method, for instance. Or all the jokes possible that poke uncomfortable fun at the way that Tarble looks up to Vegeta, and maybe do really cross a line but that's why it's crucially funny and also you're simply not meant to read much into it (ex: Tarble running a kissing booth that costs money but he tells Vegeta that he'll give him a "family discount.")

Ah whatever. Feels good to post. Welcome to my twisted ankle. DMs / ask box always open

#pinotnoirposts #rhubi archives

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writelikeyoubreathe · 8 months

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Autumnal Melancholy

As autumn unfurls its vibrant tapestry of reds, oranges, and browns, it often evokes a sense of melancholy. The leaves fall like russet tears, marking the transition from the lushness of summer to the stillness of winter. This season, rich in symbolism, is a recurring motif in art and literature, representing transition, decay, and loss. Autumn forces us to confront the inevitability of change, reminding us that we are but a small part of the greater natural world and to bear witness to the death that follows the vibrant life of spring. While we may now associate this season with cosy sweaters, hot drinks, and crackling fires, its underlying melancholy lingers in the crisp air, serving as a memento mori. For those grappling with their own grief and loss, autumn poses unique challenges, compelling us to seek solace in a world that forces us to confront these harsh realities.

In literature, autumn is frequently portrayed as the twilight of the year, a liminal space between the vitality of spring and the bitter winter cold. Notably, this is illustrated in W.B. Yeats’ poem, The Wild Swans at Coole. He pairs the image of the trees’ ‘autumn beauty’ with the ‘twilight’ setting to demonstrate this cyclical and transient nature of life, imbuing the scene with a sense of stasis, reflection, and tranquility as the speaker contemplates ephemeral human existence with the ineffable immortality of nature. This evokes a part of grief that I had never considered before I had experienced it: our loved ones who pass away are frozen in time like a pressed flower, never to bloom again in the spring, while we are meant to continue to grow. At first, I felt indignant and outraged at the unfairness of it all. How am I supposed to continue without them? How can the world keep turning or the seasons keep changing without our departed loved ones here to witness it?

As someone who has a history of mental illness, it feels cruel that someone so precious, beautiful, and ready for life should be taken away so soon. A bright light was extinguished. Whereas someone like me, flickering and dim, continues to burn. It's not fair. I've always known it's not fair; the guilt tastes like ash in my mouth. Throughout Yeats’ poem, the speaker focuses on these swans’ stasis throughout the years despite this change. They remain a collective mass that implies a monolithic unity, creating an illusion of immortality. This image is a microcosm of the enduring vitality of nature. We, too, will one day enter the winter of our lives, fall to the ground, and bring new life to the soil, much like autumn leaves. It comforts me to apply the permanence of the swans to ourselves. Through the lens of Yeats’ poem, we can interpret this season as a reminder of the human condition, not just as individuals who cannot be resurrected and become lost to the ravages of time, but as integral parts of the regenerative whole of nature, forming a larger community that creates new life as it witnesses death.

Another one of my favourite expressions of autumn is found in Jackson Pollock's Autumn Rhythm (Number 30, 1950). He employs a dripping technique in which paint is splattered, flung, and pooled onto the canvas to create an expressionist, non-representative explosion. The arches, curves, overlapping colours, and frenetic peaks of colour vividly illustrate the boundless nature of existence, its continuous flow without a clear beginning or end. Both the melancholic atmosphere conveyed by the dark colours and the chaos of this tempestuous expression reflects an internal turmoil and emotional turbulence, as well as the larger mutability of nature . The all-consuming contrast between the black and white paint conveys a liminality, changeability, and duality within autumn - the bountiful harvests and the withering trees, the transition from summer to winter. The lack of typical autumnal imagery is striking as Pollock encapsulates a visceral feeling, a power beyond the individual, he illustrates the greater cycle of life just like Yeats’ swans.

There’s a promise of change that lies beyond autumnal decay, one that promises more than ornate carpets of leaves and petals of breath that bloom in the air. The words of F. Scott Fitzgerald come to mind: "Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” Perhaps in this lies a possible comfort to find in this autumn. It serves as a poignant reminder of our place within the vast universe.

#thoughts #words #spilled words #autumn #artwork #writers on tumblr #writing #analysis #melanchaholic #mental illness #fall #autumn aesthetic #fall aesthetic #loss #grief #existence #existentialism #word web #web weaving

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fckmini · 8 months

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Autumnal Melancholy

#writing #autumn #fall aesthetic #writerblr #melanchonic #web weaving #spilled words #essay #mental illness #grief #loss #fall

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hyperannotation · 10 months

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"Cell Membrane" by Soko Nada is a haunting exploration of pain, destruction, and the human struggle for self-preservation. Through fragmented and visceral language, Nada paints a vivid picture of a world in turmoil, where the cell membrane becomes a metaphor for protection and vulnerability.

The poem begins with a reference to 5G, symbolizing the rapid advancement of technology and its impact on our lives. The expanding cell membrane represents both the physical and metaphorical boundaries we erect to shield ourselves from harm. It is a barrier that simultaneously protects and proliferates, highlighting the paradoxical nature of self-preservation.

As the poem progresses, Nada introduces the disturbing element of metal leaking laughing gas, which metaphorically represents the corrosive influence of external forces on our bodies and minds. Blood drips from bombarded cells, symbolizing the damage inflicted upon us, while ugliness spreads like a contagion. The reverberations of laughing gas create a disorienting and unsettling atmosphere, suggesting the pervasive nature of the destructive forces at play.

Throughout the poem, there is a sense of violence and destruction that permeates the narrative. The breaking of metal violently and the piercing of the membrane evoke a visceral image of pain and violation. The repetition of "callous" emphasizes the hardening of one's defenses in the face of ongoing assault. Nada implicates corporations and mobile phone call recording as agents of destruction, hinting at the invasive nature of surveillance and the erosion of privacy.

The personal toll of this destruction becomes apparent as the narrator describes being destroyed and stuck in their own body. The vivid imagery of plucking and throwing metal further emphasizes the sense of chaos and wreckage. Abnormal heart sounds and the extraction of a metal cylinder from internal organs evoke a profound sense of bodily harm and vulnerability.

Amidst this destruction, the poem delves into the complexities of love. The narrator describes cursing and killing their overgrown love, suggesting a sense of disillusionment and emotional turmoil. The suppression of screams and the bleeding of lukewarm love convey a stifling and muted emotional state. The desire to wear out and escape the pain becomes palpable, as the narrator looks up with insect breath, perhaps signifying fragility and vulnerability.

The poem culminates in a call to destroy and deny, as well as a desire to turn the sources of destruction into grains of sand. This transformation signifies a release from fear, a letting go of the pain and chaos. It hints at the possibility of finding solace and liberation by transcending the destructive forces and embracing a new perspective.

https://twitter.com/cieleve4098

#Soko Nada

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theeclecticwitchblog240 · 1 year

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~~~Storm Magick~~~

~~Working with Weather~~

Storms serve as a reminder of how unpredictable Mother Nature can be; gale force winds tear down ancient trees as malevolent looking clouds roll in to shroud the sky in darkness. Heavy rains beat down, and sometimes lightning will strike as thunder rumbles across the heavens. Storms are dangerous and frightening but they are also awe inspiring to behold, especially if you can view them from a safe vantage point. Storms have an electrifying energy so intense it is almost palpable; they are unbridled displays of power that cause us to tingle with a heightened sense of awareness. Even the approach of a storm can be felt, that eerie sense of stillness that precedes the chaos yet to come.

Folklore has linked the sea witch to storms for centuries, fearing them for their ability to control the winds that affect sailing conditions. The sea witch, or sea hag as they were also known, were believed to dwell in coastal towns and possessed the power to wreck a ship if they so wished. Sailors in the 18th century feared Mother Carey, a demonic sea witch who controlled the fates of ships and sailors by conjuring up storms and harsh conditions.

The storm represents energy at its purest; raw, untamed energy waiting to be channeled by the witch.

Although straightforward, instant control over the weather may not be a realistic thing for the solitary practitioner to achieve, working with the energy of the storm that presents itself is. This is not to say that weather control is impossible; legend tells of the Druids who summoned a storm in 1588 to foil the attack of the Spanish Armada. However, for the witch who is still discovering their path, it may be more appropriate to begin your foray into storm magick by engaging with the storms that occur naturally. The intensity of the storm means that it is a way to super-charge any spells that you wish to cast.

Place a clear glass container of water on the windowsill during a storm to imbue it with storm energy, or position an empty container directly outside to collect pure storm-water. You can then use this water to anoint talismans or any ongoing spells that require additional energy. The nature of working with storms means that you will need to be prepared to act on a moment's notice, although if you are a witch that is naturally attuned to the weather patterns of your region, you may be able to tell that a storm is coming hours, or possibly days beforehand. The most direct way to connect with storm energy is to be in it, standing outside, experiencing the visceral sensation of being in the heart of the storm. That being said, a witch has a personal responsibility to ensure their own safety, and such a practice carries inherent risk.

~~~Storm Safety~~~

~~Stay clear of tall trees and telephone wires

~~Wear suitable, waterproof clothing

~~Stay away from metal objects and avoid the use of metal tools

~~Choose low ground rather than high ground

~~Avoid the use of any electrical equipment

~~Secure any loose objects in the area

~~~Harnessing a Storm~~~

Step 1~~ If you wish to practice your magick outside in a storm, you will need to be prepared ahead of time. Have a bag ready with suitable clothing such as a rain coat or waterproof poncho, and any tools you wish to use. Choose items that won't conduct electricity or get ruined in the rain. Select glass rather than metal, and if you need to bring a page from your Book of Shadows, have it laminated in a clear plastic wallet or even a clear ziplock bag will work. You may practice storm magick inside if you prefer, in a room that offers a view of the storm.

Step 2 ~~ Decide how you wish to direct the energy you will raise during the storm; will it be for a spell that is currently in progress, or a new spell? Be clear on your intent. Storm energy is dramatic, forceful and violent in its turbulent fashion, so it lends itself well to spells for rectifying an injustice done to you, banishing, or fiercely protecting something you love.

Step 3~~Gaze into the stormy sky, taking deep breaths as you symbolically absorb the electricity in the air. Envision it combining with your own inner power, raising it to new heights. Allow yourself to enter a trance like state, keeping your focus on yourself as a conduit of the stormy energy. With every lightning bolt, feel your energetic levels rise. If you wish to speak an invocation as you raise your energy, you may repeat the one below:

"Storm clouds rise,

In darkening skies,

To mark this as the hour,

That thunder rolls,

And lightning tolls,

Enchanting me with power."

Step 4 ~~ When you sense the moment is right, hold your hands above your head and release the energy you have built. Visualize it erupting from you, as forcefully as the storm blows. If the storm is accompanied by lightning, then the moment it strikes would be a significant time to do the release.

~~~Storm Summoning Spell~~~

Materials:

~Chalice or cauldron

~Blessed water, for example moon water, sea water or storm-water

~Wand or implement to stir with

The purpose of this spell is to summon clouds that will bring stormy weather your way. However, be mindful that weather control is risky and difficult to achieve.

1. Fill your vessel with the blessed water of your choice. Visualize the water you pour as the embodiment of the sea, a tiny portal to the ocean in the palm of your hand.

2. Place your hands either side of the chalice or cauldron and close your eyes, establishing in your mind's eye the connection between this water you hold and the great ocean.

3. Using your wand, finger or other stirring implement, stir the water in a clockwise direction.

4. As the water swirls, see the whirlpool it creates as a vortex that draws the clouds toward you.

5. Blow over the water as you continue to stir, your breath symbolizing the winds needed to brew the storm.

6. Envision the storm manifesting, see the sky darken and the sun concealed. Feel the eerie stillness that proceeds a storm, visualizing the elements combining to create the perfect conditions. Pour all of your energy into the force of your intent for the storm you want to create. If you work with a sea or weather based deity, you may wish to say a short invocation to petition their help.

7. Once you have completed this ritual, express gratitude for any assistance you may receive, and keep the chalice of water on your altar for a night and a day.

~~~Storm Water~~~

~~Uses~~

~Ways to use storm-water in your spells and rituals:

~Intensify manifestations by adding a drop to spells

~Create powerful wards for the home by spraying across entry points

~Add a drop to spells for assertiveness and courage

~Bring 'warrior' energy to your spells by anointing yourself with storm-water

~Balance erratic emotions by including in a bath or diffuser

Tip

~~Store your storm-water you have collected in a dark glass jar so that it is not touched by sunlight.

~~Storm energy is chaotic, so be prepared for the unexpected if you use storm-water in a spell.

Blessed be!

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