Tumgik
#emblematic of his soul's journey
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an excellent closeup of his hand...scars...😢
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(not my edit, no watermark)
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nayziiz · 2 months
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Team Dynamics | LN4
Summary: To celebrate the launch of their 2024 car for the upcoming F1 season, McLaren hosts a masquerade gala event that sees two souls connect and lead to a whirlwind romance. Unfortunately, the pair realise soon after that they are to work together quite closely after they agreed it would only be a one-night thing.
Warnings: Smut, alcohol, one night stand, unprotected sex
Pairing: Gemma (I don't like writing with Y/N or reader) x Lando Norris
Series Masterlist
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PART 2
Lando's decisive hand grabs Gemma's, and with an unspoken understanding, he leads her towards the exit. The vibrant energy of the party fades into the distance as they collect their coats, preparing to venture into the cool night air. Stepping outside, they scan the surroundings for the approaching Uber, a temporary refuge from the lively chaos they've left behind.
The car arrives, and they slide into the backseat, the leather cool against their skin. The quiet atmosphere inside the vehicle contrasts with the echoes of music and laughter lingering from the event. A sense of anticipation hangs in the air as the driver smoothly navigates the city streets.
In the dimly lit confines of the car, Gemma feels the echo of her own heartbeat, a rhythmic reminder of the intensity of the night. This intimate encounter with Lando has stirred something within her, and she grapples with a mix of excitement and longing. This connection is a rarity for her, only the second time she has found herself entangled in such intimacy.
The silence between them is heavy with unspoken desires as they navigate the city's labyrinth of streets. Gemma steals glances at Lando, her curiosity and yearning evident in her eyes. Sensing the unspoken tension, Lando's fingers find their way onto her lap, a silent invitation for a connection that transcends words. His fingers curl and intertwine with hers, forging a tactile link that speaks volumes in the quiet confines of the car.
As the city lights streak by, Gemma and Lando share a moment of quiet connection, fingers entwined, hearts entangled in the echoes of the night. The anticipation lingers, and in the soft glow of the passing streetlights, a subtle understanding forms between them—an acknowledgment that this shared journey extends beyond the physical confines of the car, weaving a thread of intimacy that binds them in the enchantment of the night.
The Uber glides to a smooth stop outside Lando's apartment building after a ten-minute drive through the city. Lando, maintaining the air of confidence that has marked their connection throughout the night, guides Gemma inside with a subtle yet possessive touch. His palm rests on the small of her back, a gesture both protective and suggestive, as they make their way towards the entrance.
The lobby of the apartment building welcomes them with a hushed ambiance, a stark contrast to the lively scenes they left behind. The elevator doors open, and they step inside, the anticipation mounting. Lando's hand, still resting on the small of Gemma's back, subtly guides her closer as the doors close, enclosing them in the privacy of the elevator. The anticipation builds, and as Lando confidently presses the button for the penthouse, a signal of the exclusive destination that awaits them.
With a quiet hum, the elevator ascends, and Lando's fingers trace gentle circles on Gemma's back, an unspoken reassurance in the intimate space. The elevator's soft chime signals their arrival, and as the doors slide open to the penthouse foyer, Gemma takes in the luxurious surroundings. The foyer, a prelude to the opulence within, leads towards the penthouse doors. Lando, emblematic of his wealth, produces a set of keys to unlock the entrance to his London home.
“Penthouse? I thought you said apartment?” Gemma comments.
“Didn’t want to scare you away.” Lando mumbles, his hand trailing up and down her spine and finally resting on her butt.
“Do you have butlers too?” Gemma teases.
“Not usually.” Lando shrugs. “My housekeeper has the night off, actually.”
I’m way in over my head here, Gemma thinks. As Gemma steps into Lando's opulent London penthouse, the stark contrast between their worlds becomes even more apparent. Lando's affluence is undeniable, evident in every meticulously tailored detail of his attire, from the sleek suit to the polished shoes and the glint of carefully chosen jewellery. It's a world that seems a million miles away from Gemma's own, represented by the thrifted dress she carefully selected from a humble charity shop and the shoes that carry the sentimental weight of her college graduation.
“I hope you’re not appalled by that.” Lando comments when he sees her eyes wander.
“No. Not appalled. I didn’t know what I was expecting, honestly.” Gemma admits.
Gemma is met with an interior that echoes the minimalism of a high-end design magazine. The furniture is sleek and contemporary, with a distinct lack of personal touches. It's a stark contrast to the warmth and lived-in feel of Gemma's own modest belongings.
Gemma, momentarily taken aback by the minimalist aesthetic, begins to shed the layers that shield her from the night's chill. She gracefully removes her coat, a humble garment from her recent thrift store find, and hands it to Lando. In the act of hanging up their outerwear, there's a subtle exchange of worlds—a fleeting moment where their differences, both in material wealth and personal style, hang in the air. Yet, in the midst of this juxtaposition, there's a palpable connection, an unspoken acknowledgment that their individual worlds are converging in the quiet expanse of Lando's penthouse.
“My Monaco apartment is much more homier.” Lando comments. “I don’t spend a lot of time here, except for when I'm here during the winter break.”
Gemma's fingertips delicately graze the headrest of the charcoal grey couch as she explores the refined simplicity of Lando's penthouse. Her eyes trace the lines of the furniture, taking in the sleek design and the absence of personal artifacts that typically define one's living space. Lando observes her with a curious gaze, trying to decipher the thoughts flickering across her face as she studies her surroundings.
In the quiet interlude, Lando reflects on the encounter that brought them together. From the moment Gemma approached him with her lighthearted joke in the corridor, he sensed a refreshing genuineness about her. She wasn't swayed by the trappings of his wealth or status. Her lack of recognition, combined with her genuine curiosity and absence of probing questions, conveyed a down-to-earth authenticity that set her apart.
As Gemma explores the penthouse, Lando appreciates the fact that she sees him not as a symbol of affluence, but as a person. The initial anonymity provided a rare glimpse into a connection untainted by preconceptions. It becomes evident that Gemma is not here to exploit or be enamored by the opulence surrounding her. Instead, she treats Lando as a fellow human being, not as some mythical figure elevated above the rest of the world.
Lando's curiosity about Gemma's perspective deepens, and a subtle smile plays on his lips as he watches her navigate the space. In her unassuming presence, he discovers a sense of connection that transcends societal divides—a connection grounded in the shared experience of this night, the quiet exploration of a penthouse, and the unfolding of a unique bond between two souls who met amidst the serendipity of a bustling event. 
“It’s quite grey.” She states, her candid observation about the predominantly grey surroundings elicits a chuckle from Lando.
“That it is.” Lando agrees.
“Could do with some colour.” She continues. “Papaya, maybe.”
“Thanks. I’ll run that past my interior decorator.” Lando nods.
“I just hope it’s not the same interior decorator who styled it like this, because, wow!” She adds, gesticulating her displeasure for the colour palette and furniture. Lando laughs at her as she stumbles over the rug and lands comfortably on the couch. “Not a very pretty couch but very comfortable.”
“That’s good, then, no?” Lando jokes as he makes his way to sit next to her.
“I suppose so. Kind of depends on what you do with the couch.” She teases, winking at Lando.
Their eyes lock, and a brief pause hangs in the air, charged with unspoken tension. In the next instant, Lando seizes the moment, grabbing Gemma by the hips and effortlessly pulling her onto his lap. She straddles him, and their proximity intensifies the connection between them.
“What? Kind of like this?” Lando asks her, brushing her hair out of her face.
“Mmh. It’s a good start.” She nods.
Lando kisses her again, but gentler this time. Her hands rest lazily on his waist before they slowly start moving up and start unbuttoning his shirt. His hands slowly move down to her hips as he pulls her closer. She can feel his bulge pressing against her through his dress pants and it instantly arouses her. His hands move down her thighs and up the inside of her dress. He pulls her dress over her head, breaking their kiss for a brief moment. Her underwear matches her burgundy dress and suits her complexion. She gasps at the coldness that hits her skin as she shuffles the shirt from his shoulders.
“You’re so beautiful.” Lando tells her when he gets a good look at her body and meets her eyes again.
“All girls are beautiful when they’re pretty much naked.” Gemma mumbles, suddenly growing shy. He kisses her again and pulls away.
“Oh, don’t get shy now.” He assures her and plants several kisses down her neck as her hips grind against his.
His hand grips the hair in her nape and gently pulls her head back as he kisses her Adam’s apple and down her chest, over her collarbones and then to her covered breasts. A soft moan escaped her lips as she grinds harder against him.
“You really are beautiful.” He mumbles against her skin, sucking on the skin just above her left breast.
Her hands struggle to find a resting place and eventually land in his curly brown hair. When he’s done sucking on her skin, he helps her unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He lifts himself ever so slightly off the couch to pull down his pants to his ankles. She immediately spots his hardened cock still covered by his briefs. Gemma slides off the couch and takes off Lando’s shoes and socks and proceeds to pull his pants off completely. When she attempts to straddle him again, Lando lays her down on her back and returns the favour for her.
He takes his time to undo the straps of her heels. When he’s chucked them aside, he proceeds to kiss her ankle and then her calf and then her inner thigh. She wriggles under his touch and breathy kisses and pulls him up for a kiss on her lips.
Lando pulls away for a second as he watches her body shiver when his fingers trace her arms and shoulders.
“This is a one time thing.” She warns him.
“I’ll make it good then.” He counters. “Maybe you’ll be running back for more.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Gemma teases. “I don’t run.”
Lando stifles a laugh at her self-deprecating joke. He loves her humour and how easy she gets back at him, like it’s such a natural thing. He grabs her chin in between his fingers making her look at him.
“No strings?” Lando asks her, even though he really hoped he’d see her again.
“No strings.” She confirms.
“You tell me to stop at any point and I will.” Lando informs her. “Words. You’re so good with your words, so use them.”
“Yes, Lando.” She agrees and he smiles at her answer.
“So obedient.” He gushes.
“Don’t be a tease.” She warns him, her nails digging slightly into his biceps.
Lando caves at her words as he moves down and kisses her stomach below her bra and teases her pantyline before he curls his fingers around her lace panties and pulls them off.
“Such a pretty sight.” He whispers as he throws her panties aside.
He leans over her and unclips her bra, allowing it to fall off her shoulders. Gemma throws her bra to meet her dress and panties close to the coffee table. Lando’s fingers trail her thighs and move towards her hole as her legs spread wider. His fingers tease her folds, but he can feel her already clenching and wet.
“You’re so wet already.” He whispers before sliding a single finger into her. His words make her shiver.
After a few strokes, he inserts a second finger and Gemma instinctively starts thrusting her hips onto them. His fingers are completely covered by her wetness.
“You’re so tight.” He mumbles into the skin of her neck as she arches her back. She grips onto his curly hair as his pace increases, tempting a third finger. She moans into his neck as she seeks her climax thrusting harder onto his fingers. “What do you want, Gem?”
“You.” She breathes. “I want you.”
“What do you want me to do?” He asks as she moans yet again.
“I want you inside me, please.” She begs, her breathing fast and shallow as she nears her climax.
“Anything princess wants, princess gets.” He assures her as he removes his fingers from her and removes his briefs.
He runs his glistening fingers over his hardened shaft, lubricating it. Gemma peers up at him as he aligns himself between her legs.
“Please, Lan.” She begs again, her voice strained and clinging to her climax.
Her words send him into another dimension as he enters her. She instantly moans, but muffles it against his chest as he thrusts slowly. As he continues to thrust, her moans become louder and more difficult to contain. She grips onto his biceps as he brings her closer to her climax once again.
“There’s no one else here, you can be louder.” Lando tells her in between thrusts.
“Please, harder.” She pleads against his shoulder, her grip tightening on his arms.
Her pleas are heard loud and clear as he thrusts harder, louder groans escaping his lips. They continue with their moans and groans until Gemma combusts, her limbs shaking from her erratic orgasm.
“Where do you want me to cum?” He asks, not intentionally mischievous, but rather genuinely asking so it would be easy to clean.
“Inside me.” Gemma quickly answers, not realising the seriousness of Lando’s question.
Her dirty answer sends him right over the edge as he erupts within her. He stays in his position for a few moments as he catches his breath before sitting upright and pulling her into his lap. Gemma clenches her thighs together as his juices seep out of her. He reaches down and uses his fingers to push it back in, careful not to overstimulate her. She’s still sensitive and groans as she feels his finger wipe up his cum and slide back in. This continues for a few minutes before they’re able to catch their breaths and calm their heart rates.
“Your ex clearly did not appreciate you enough.” Lando mumbles as he kisses her shoulder.
After another few quiet minutes, Lando can feel Gemma’s body relax in his embrace. He sits her down on the couch as he gets up, his semi-hard cock on full show for her. She avoids looking at it as he pulls on his briefs and disappears down a hallway. She’s unsure of what to do and attempts to stand, but his juices are still seeping down her thigh and landing on the couch’s material. Lando returns to the living room with a washcloth and some clothes.
“Let me clean you up.” He tells her.
He kneels in between her legs and wipes up his cum with the washcloth before discarding the washcloth on the coffee table.
“Do you want your underwear?” Lando asks her and she’s finally able to look him in the eyes.
“You can keep the panties.” She tells him with a crooked smile.
She’s the one, she must be, he thinks as he smiles at her. He pulls one of his t-shirts over her head. He then slips on a pair of sweatpants onto her hips. This can’t just be a one night thing, his thoughts trail. They’ve sobered themselves up enough to both realise that a one-night-stand may not be the endgame for them.
“Do you need anything? Water maybe?” Lando asks as he stays kneeling between her legs.
“I’m alright, thank you.” She assures him with her fingers caressing his cheek.
“Then we should maybe get some sleep.” Lando urges her as he gets up and extends a hand for her to grab.
Gemma, caught in the moment and sensing a shift in the atmosphere, gently takes Lando's hand. With a silent understanding, he leads her down the hallway to his room. The air is charged with a mixture of anticipation and a newfound intimacy as they enter the space that holds a different kind of quiet.
Once inside, they find solace in each other's arms. The ambiance is soft, the only illumination coming from the gentle glow of ambient lights. They settle into a comfortable embrace, the warmth of shared connection enveloping them. The earlier intensity mellows into a tranquil intimacy as they exchange soft words and tender gestures.
Cuddling together, they allow the calmness of the moment to wash over them, creating a cocoon of shared comfort. The world outside the room fades away, and in the quietude, they find a reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the night. As the rhythmic rise and fall of their breaths synchronise, Gemma and Lando gradually succumb to the tranquillity of the night, drifting into a peaceful slumber wrapped in each other's embrace.
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nyaagolor · 1 year
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RTDL DX Spoilers
under the cut :)
I am so insane about this Magolor Epilogue mode bc of the final boss potential. Like:
Magolor Soul final boss: Poetic. Truly emblematic of the hero’s journey and Magolor’s own redemption. A fitting end to a story about conquering the demons within yourself and finding true strength in accepting yourself and your own limitations
Morpho Knight final boss: Badass. Both a beautiful show of Magolor truly fighting to get back his life and accepting his own place with humility, giving an incredible battle in the process against the most powerful inescapable force of all.
Galacta Knight final boss: Omg it's galacta knight that's my little guy
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lihikainanea · 1 year
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Hiii Lei! Thank you for doing this! I’m Tee, I was born on February 1, 1994, and I’m a girl with big dreams, a very fertile imagination, and an introverted hopeless romantic. Also, a sensitive soul. I’ve been making strides in healing and mental health and I’m really proud of that. That being said my question for tarot hour is Can my dreams of becoming an actress be successful? Thank you again!
Hi sweet Tee, thank you for being so patient!
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Here we go:
The Sun (Major Arcana -- jumped out while I was shuffling)
Knight of Wands
Six of Swords
In short--yes, but not as quickly as you'd like and maybe not even the path that you'd expect.
Right off the bat, we have the universe rooting for us with the appearance of The Sun--when it comes to a yes or no question, the sun is a definitive, in-your-face, absolute YES--which is good. The sun speaks of positivity, joy and happiness, success, all the good things in life. This is the universe being like I GOTCHU BOO and literally making your dreams come true so if you're looking for a simple answer, it's definitive, beyond shadow of a doubt yes.
But let's take a look at the other cards, for context.
The Six of Swords is what has me saying it's a "not just yet" moment, but before we get to that, let's focus on the Knight of Wands. This is the perfect compliment to The Sun--the Wands suit is a suit of action, and usually fast-paced. The Knight of Wands is the epitome of that--he's ready, man. He's a do-er. The Knight of Wands speaks of passion and success, of excitement, of grand adventure. He's not a "let's sit back, wait and see" kind of bitch--my man the Knight of Wands is a go-out-and-get-it kind of dude and the universe rewards him for that, doubly so with the appearance of The Sun. This tells me that these dreams you have--regardless of whether or not they'll fall in your lap (which they probably will, with the presence of The Sun confirming the universe is working for us)--regardless of that, they're as good as yours. Because if they don't fall in your lap--hell, you're going to to out and get them anyway.
Tell me, babes--what's it like to have such irrefutable determination? Asking for a friend :-P
The conviction is there. The universe is there. Your commitment is there. Everything is working in your favour for this to happen.
BUT.
You want it to go fast. The universe is on board with it. But something here--something is halting it. Slowing it down. And that's okay, because sometimes only in slowing things down can we truly appreciate them. The Six of Swords speaks of distance--literally, figuratively, in every sense. The suit of Swords represents our intellect, our minds, our thoughts--and the Six of Swords is emblematic of a need to put distance between ourselves and something--what we want, a problem, a person--whatever it may be.
This could be physical distance, a calling to get away in order to Gian perspective, or it could mean distance in a more imaginative sense--time. This card could sometimes have a more negative connotation, one of a dangerous or doomed journey, but I don't think that fits the reading nor does it jive with the surrounding cards. To me, the only warning here is just a caution that it may not happen as quickly as you'd like, or there may be some obstacles on the road there--but worry not, and don't stray. It's yours, even if it takes a little longer than expected,
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birdzflycom · 3 months
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Country music star Collin Raye to perform Saturday at Renaissance Theatre
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Courtesy: mansfieldnewsjournal An icon in the realm of country music, boasting an impressive tally of 16 chart-topping hits, is poised to captivate the audience at the Renaissance Theatre this upcoming weekend. Scheduled for 7:30 p.m. on Saturday, Collin Raye, with an impressive repertoire of 24 Top 10 hits and 10 nominations for male vocalist of the year, is renowned for delivering soul-stirring, authentic material imbued with candor and opulence. Chelsie Thompson, the President and CEO of Renaissance, expressed gratitude, stating, "We're truly privileged to host Collin Raye and his musical prowess on our stage. His mastery of storytelling, evident in numerous hit singles, has resonated with hearts nationwide. Now, it's our community's turn to bask in the legacy of his heartfelt performances." Raye, a luminary in the 1990s country music scene, is synonymous with chart-toppers like "Love, Me," "In This Life," "Not That Different," and "If I Were You," with his music becoming emblematic of poignant and emotive occasions. Frequently woven into the fabric of weddings, anniversaries, memorials, and funerals, Raye's anthem, "Little Rock," spurred over 100,000 calls to Alcoholics Anonymous. Hailing from Arkansas, Raye catapulted to stardom in 1991 with the poignant "Love, Me." "Not That Different" serves as a plea for tolerance, while "I Think About You" garnered accolades for shedding light on the exploitation of women and children through both its song and video. Raye, beyond his musical prowess, is a humanitarian In addition to his musical achievements, Raye has consistently used his influential voice to champion various social causes. Throughout the years, he has aligned himself with organizations such as Boys Town, the Special Olympics, Country Cares About AIDs, Easter Seals, and numerous others. In 2001, Raye was honored with the Humanitarian of the Year award by the Country Music Radio Seminar, recognizing his unwavering commitment to leveraging his platform for positive change. In 2010, following the heartbreaking loss of his 10-year-old granddaughter, Raye, alongside his daughter Brittany, established the Haley Bell Blessed Chair Foundation to commemorate her memory. The foundation is dedicated to aiding families with cognitive and physical disabilities, emphasizing the provision of wheelchairs and essential medical equipment to enhance the lives of those in need. Raye chronicled his life journey in the autobiography "That's My Story: The Undefeated Life of Collin Raye," released in early 2014. Currently residing in Nashville, Tennessee, Raye shares his abode with his daughter and granddaughter. Read the full article
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charlesbarnett · 3 months
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The Pedagogue's Playlist - Teaching Life's Lessons with Words and Strings
In the hallowed halls of a middle school, there exists a pedagogue, Charles Barnett, whose passion for both literature and music transcends the conventional boundaries of education. This unsung hero of the classroom, an erstwhile guitarist turned educator, seamlessly weaves the harmonies of language and the melodies of strings to create a unique and enriching learning experience for students.
This maestro of the middle school classroom was once a virtuoso of the six strings, captivating audiences with the dexterity of fingers dancing across frets. However, life's unpredictable symphony led this educator to a different stage – one adorned with chalkboards and desks instead of amplifiers and spotlights. Undeterred by the change in venue, our protagonist embraced the role of a middle school teacher with an ardor that mirrored the passion once reserved for the stage.
Within the walls of the classroom, this teacher orchestrates a curriculum that harmonizes literature and music. The students, unsuspecting apprentices of life's grand school, are greeted not only by the written word but also by the soulful resonance of acoustic strings. The marriage of these two seemingly disparate disciplines creates an educational symphony that resonates deeply with young minds.
The literary odyssey begins with Charles Barnett carefully selecting texts that serve as the notes on the sheet music of the semester. Classic novels and timeless poems unfold before the students like the overture of a grand composition. The teacher, with a keen understanding of the transformative power of language, guides the students through the nuances of syntax and the cadence of prose. The classroom transforms into a crucible where ideas are forged, and critical thinking is honed. Charles Barnett Wade Hampton
Simultaneously, the resonant chords of a guitar, once the teacher's trusted companion on the musical stage, now fill the air. The strings vibrate with the energy of a shared journey – a pilgrimage through the realms of literature and music. Each pluck of the string becomes a metaphor for the nuanced exploration of characters, themes, and the tapestry of the human experience woven by the written word.
The classroom, therefore, becomes a sanctuary where literature and music converge, forging a unique pedagogical experience. This convergence is not merely an aesthetic choice; rather, it is a deliberate strategy to engage students on multiple sensory levels. The power of storytelling, as elucidated through literature, is complemented by the emotional resonance of music, creating a holistic educational experience that transcends the boundaries of conventional teaching.
The teacher, Charles Barnett, with his once nimble fingers, now adept at wielding both pen and plectrum, guides the students through a curriculum that not only imparts academic knowledge but also nurtures emotional intelligence. The literary canon becomes a vessel through which empathy is cultivated, and the universal language of music becomes the medium for emotional expression. Through this fusion, the classroom becomes a crucible where students not only learn about life but also learn to navigate its complex terrain with grace and understanding.
The transformative power of this pedagogical approach lies in its ability to foster a profound connection between the intellectual and emotional realms. The teacher, with an acute awareness of the formative years that comprise middle school, recognizes the importance of nurturing both cognitive and emotional intelligence. Literature, with its capacity to expose students to diverse perspectives and the human condition, becomes a catalyst for empathy. Simultaneously, music, with its ability to evoke and express emotions, serves as a conduit for self-discovery and emotional literacy. Charlie Barnett Greenville SC
The teacher's journey from the stage to the classroom is emblematic of the fluidity of passion and the evolution of personal narratives. Charles Barnett, once captivated by the roar of the crowd, now finds fulfillment in the eager eyes of his students. The classroom, once a foreign stage, is now a sacred space where Barnett imparts not only academic knowledge but life's invaluable lessons. The students, unknowingly enveloped in this pedagogical symphony, absorb not only the intricacies of language and the beauty of music but also the subtle nuances of empathy, resilience, and self-discovery.
As the semester progresses, the teacher introduces an array of literary genres and musical styles, broadening the students' cultural and artistic horizons. The curriculum becomes a tapestry woven with threads of Shakespearean sonnets, Dickensian tales, and the poignant lyrics of folk ballads. The eclectic mix of literature and music mirrors the diversity of human experience, fostering an appreciation for the richness and complexity of the world.
The teacher, having traded the spotlight for the satisfaction of nurturing young minds, watches as the students unveil their compositions – a testament to the transformative power of education that transcends the boundaries of traditional disciplines. The literary and musical journey embarked upon in the classroom becomes a microcosm of the students' own journeys through the realms of knowledge, empathy, and self-discovery.
In the quiet hum of the middle school classroom, where the rustle of pages mingles with the gentle strumming of strings, a profound educational alchemy takes place. The teacher, once a guitarist who found solace in the melodies of strings, has become a pedagogue orchestrating a curriculum that harmonizes the written word and the language of music. In this synthesis, students not only learn the intricacies of literature and music but also embark on a journey of self-discovery and empathy that transcends the confines of the classroom.
As the final notes of the academic symphony fade away, the students emerge not only with a deeper understanding of literature and music but also with the resilience, empathy, and emotional intelligence necessary to navigate the grand stage of life. The pedagogue's playlist, a carefully curated fusion of words and strings, becomes a soundtrack that accompanies the students on their ongoing odyssey – a melody that resonates long after the classroom lights dim. This enriching journey of learning and growth is the legacy of Charles Barnett.
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prnanayarquah · 6 months
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Yaw Darling on the rise, cops 4 nominations - Central Music Awards 2023
New Post has been published on https://plugzafrica.com/yaw-darling-on-the-rise-cops-4-nominations-central-music-awards-2023/
Yaw Darling on the rise, cops 4 nominations - Central Music Awards 2023
Ghana’s music landscape is a buzz with excitement as Yaw Darling, the dynamic Ghanaian artist, proudly secures four prestigious nominations at the highly coveted Central Music Awards. In tandem with this exciting news, fans and music aficionados are eagerly anticipating the release of the music video for his chart-topping single “Party,” featuring the illustrious Medikal.
The Central Music Awards, a distinguished platform that spotlights and celebrates exceptional musical talents hailing from the Central Region of Ghana, has bestowed upon Yaw Darling four noteworthy nominations in the following categories:
New Artiste of the Year
Best Collaboration
Music Video of the Year
Afro Pop Song of the Year
These nominations stand as a resounding acknowledgement of Yaw Darling’s remarkable journey within the Ghanaian music industry and his unwavering commitment to his craft.
“Party,” an electrifying track by Yaw Darling featuring the multi-talented Medikal, has taken the nation by storm. The song’s infectious beats, coupled with its captivating lyrics, have made it an anthem for revelers far and wide. The fervent anticipation surrounding the release of the music video is palpable, with fans eager to witness the visual manifestation of this chart-topping sensation.
Listen to “Party” on Boomplay: https://www.boomplay.com/songs/130933928?srModel=COPYLINK&srList=WEB
The collaboration with Medikal, an established luminary within the Ghanaian music scene, has further solidified Yaw Darling’s burgeoning star status. “Party” exemplifies a harmonious fusion of Medikal’s lyrical prowess with Yaw Darling’s soulful vocals, creating a musical masterpiece that resonates across diverse audiences.
Yaw Darling’s journey from a promising newcomer to a four-time nominee at the Central Music Awards is emblematic of his artistry and unwavering dedication. His infectious melodies and captivating stage presence have garnered a steadfast fan base, firmly establishing him as a force to be reckoned with in the Ghanaian music realm.
As the release of the “Party” music video looms large, Yaw Darling’s burgeoning influence and recognition are set to reach new heights. Fans, industry insiders, and music enthusiasts alike are encouraged to stay tuned for this visual spectacle, promising a feast for the senses.
  Watch “Pull Up” by Yaw Darling on YouTube:
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ailtrahq · 6 months
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The celebratory winds of BE[IN]CRYPTO’s illustrious 5-year odyssey stir an extraordinary convergence—a selective ensemble of 14 esteemed artists, each distinguished yet unified in purpose. Among them, FriedFriday and 13 other esteemed creators intertwine their eclectic talents to foster an NFT collection of unparalleled grandeur. As 1 of the 14 chosen artists, FriedFriday’s participation in BE[IN]CRYPTO’s 5th-anniversary celebration is not merely a contribution but a harmonious dance of his creation with the emblematic spirit of the platform. Tasked with creating an art piece uniquely tailored for the audience, FriedFriday is set to infuse his eclectic blend of artistry, emanating an artwork rich in culture, steeped in uniqueness—a testament to his revered domain. A Glimpse into the World of FriedFriday With an illustrious career stretching over 17 enchanting years, FriedFriday’s creative soiree as a luminary in Visual Communication Design is inscribed in the annals of the gaming and art world. Having adored roles as an Art Director and Concept Artist, his artistry has woven through over 20 iconic game productions. Collaborations with eminent enterprises, including NCSoft, Hangame, LINE, and Disney, have not only adorned his journey but have sculpted a creator with an eclectic and invigorating touch. The Birth of PEACHEEZE Amidst the humdrum of professional commitments and celebrated contributions, FriedFriday’s soul harbored a sanctified space for an enigmatic character, PEACHEEZE. A creation, a philosophy, a manifestation of profound artistry, PEACHEEZE embodies FriedFriday’s unrestrained creativity—a world where art and imagination breach the confines of canvas and pixels. A Journey of Dynamic Illustrations The riveting narrative of FriedFriday’s works reflects a journey adorned with varied influences. As the illustrious gaming industry bore witness to his evolving mastery, so did his characters, each pulsating with life, narrating tales of the creator’s odyssey. PEACHEEZE, an epitome of such creation, steps into the world, echoing FriedFriday’s illustrious journey—a narrative of exploration, mastery, and unbridled creativity. Embark on a Journey into the Digital Alchemy with FriedFriday and Zealy’s NFT Collection! To celebrate the endlessly fascinating world of digital art, FriedFriday has collaborated with 14 artists to craft an NFT collection that promises to be a paragon of thematic richness and aesthetic diversity. But wait, there’s more! Venture into Zealy’s interactive questboard, complete intriguing challenges, and earn the chance to unlock a complimentary mint from this exclusive series. Witness the amalgamation of deeply-rooted philosophical themes and cutting-edge digital craftsmanship. Are you prepared to explore? Begin your odyssey at Zealy. The future of multi-faceted art awaits!
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recaffeine · 8 months
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7/25/2023
As I continue to attain new heights in the form of knowledge, strength and power; I began to stroke the flames of superiority too. I must make conscious of this side effect of wisdom or else it will have consumed me with poisonious pride.
I joined the medical field to heal others and with that came power that sent me towards newer heights. Today, I learned about the meaning behind the title of pharmacist. Behind the term pharmacist is the world pharmacon. Pharmacon represents the contradictory nature of today's modern medicine; for it is both a cure and a poison to one's body. Most medicines do in turn create side effects of varying nature, creating a dichotomous nature between a cure and poison. However, I do not perceive this as a negative notion. I believe that it mirrors the exact relationship of the process of healing.
What I have learned as a pharmacist is that drugs can both heal and poison the mind at the same time. While drugs will get you to a mind state where one can be healed, it is ultimately up to the eye of the beholder to complete the full healing cycle. Clarity does not always lead to crystal clear positive revelation. Sometimes, it leads to the acknowledgement of one own's failure. Those who are constantly suffering refuse to admit to their own autonomy of their life. It allows the shadow to run rampant because it is deemed as, "uncontrollable," and a part of one's psyche. This allows for the perpetuated cycle of self-hatred and outward disdain to continue.
I once sat in the emergency room with a young man who was in the midst of extreme pain and suffering. As I spoke to him about the journey that I had been through in the year of 2023, there was a semblance of pity that was growing within me. For he represented the delusionary grandeur of an unhealed mind. He not only personified his pain onto himself but also began a habit of personifying his failures onto others also. It is a dangerous combination because he has such low confidence, that any perceived assistance to his predicaments can be visualized as an attack on his own character. He refuses help but obviously needs said help. An internal battle within his mind is born. This inner turmoil stems personal growth.
It is true growth that I was allows to experience this year where I was able to not only internalize his hatred but also choose not to pass it on. I look back onto my recent conflicts this year. When I faced penultimate betrayal and malevolent revenge, I chose to detach myself from the situation itself. When I faced unfair resentment and emblematic envy, I chose to recognize the bad behavior that set that off. Yet along the path, I ended up incorporating their own pain with mine. It led me towards a frenzy that created deep wounds within my heart for a long time.
The path of a healed soul requires one to experience the pain and suffering of others and to not allow it to project it onto one's self. If pain and suffering require cyclic exchange to another person to keep themselves alive, it is up to the healer to choose to not pass it on. That is where strength and wisdom persevere. I too wield empathy like a heavy blade. Empathy whispers different notes that allow me to create a new symphony to combat the morbid music. I help others because I know of how insidious mental illness can be. I can see the unconscious shadow's spider webs that act as puppeteer strings. I see how they maneuver to create more wreckage and destruction onto the lives of others.
The pain and suffering becomes so strong at times that the individual can only run or freeze in their own pool of sweat and fear. They know of the conscious or subconscious truth that they are living in a distorted reality. They act by reacting and therefore are on life autopilot. They have no control of how they react to their emotions. They see pain and all they see is the darkness and the monster that they have begrudgingly fed over the course of their lives. Instead of accepting their thoughts and behaviors as a byproduct of their inner shadow, they choose to shame such thoughts and deem them as unacceptable. They develop low self-esteem and self-hatred. I do not blame them for such actions. For they have fused their sense of self with their darkness.
I want to tell them that their pain is an elixir to their suffering. For all humans carry the power of alchemy. We are all alchemists. We can take the black soot that life has accumulated for us from years of hurt, pain and sorrow and transform them into inner gold. Self confidence, strength and wisdom can be created from that inner gold. The inner dark may symbolize the unknown frightening territory that one must stay away from. The inner dark can also symbolize unabashed freedom; for darkness also represents a chance for discovery. I want to tell those that I have encountered this year that these tough roads ahead do not signify an arduous end; they signify an opportunity to grow beyond.
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persephoneflouwers · 2 years
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Harry in Inferno - Canto III
I was talking to the ladies in my gc yesterday night. It was not a very optimistic moment and I said “sometimes I think Dante would have put Harry among ignavi”. One of them replied “yeah, weren’t ignavi the ones who were forced to run after a flag or something?” The word flag triggered my brain instantly. So here I am, 2 rewatches of golden and lights up and a reread of the iconic Canto III of the divina commedia later.
I’m gonna leave the text in original language (translation on the right) and just have fun with words. I like the upcoming parallels, as useless and pointless as they are lol. I’m not trying to decode anything. Let’s pretend this is just the way I would teach Dante to my kids, if I were a high school teacher. Just say the word Harry and you got their attention for an hour. Okay, so.
Canto III: the scene opens with the most emblematic words in the Italian literature. Not kidding! EVERYONE knows them.
Per me si va ne la città dolente, «Through me the way is to the city dolent»
per me si va ne l'etterno dolore, «Through me the way is to eternal dole»
per me si va tra la perduta gente «Through me the way among the people lost.»
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore: «Justice incited my sublime Creator»
fecemi la divina podestate «Created me divine Omnipotence,»
la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore. «The highest Wisdom and the primal Love.»
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create «Before me there were no created things,»
se non etterne, e io etterno duro. «Only eterne, and I eternal last.»
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate". «All hope abandon, ye who enter in!"»
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Dante is reading this message written on Hell’s door. It’s a warning to whoever comes in to leave all their human expectations outside this realm. The journey is about to get rough and the things they will see there are the worst that people can experience.
I thought of the previous parallels Harry x Persephone immediately.The myth was kind of pessimistic; Persephone can’t leave the Underworld because of the consequences of her actions (eating 6 seeds of pomegranate), but Dante’s journey is a discovery journey. He is travelling through hell, describing what he sees and how he feels (Dante cries and passes out A LOT during the journey), but the ultimate reason behind his trip is to enter Heaven, where he will meet Perfection, Love and Eternity. Also his muse, Beatrice, is waiting for him.
Quivi sospiri, pianti e alti guai «There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud»
risonavan per l'aere sanza stelle, «Resounded through the air without a star,»
Per ch’io al cominciar ne lagrimai, «Whence I, at the beginning, wept thereat.»
Diverse lingue, orribili favelle, «Languages diverse, horrible dialects,»
parole di dolore, accenti d'ira, «Accents of anger, words of agony,»
voci alte e fioche, e suon di man con elle, «And voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands,»
facevano un tumulto, il qual s'aggira «Made up a tumult that goes whirling on»
sempre in quell’aura senza tempo tinta, «For ever in that air for ever black,»
come la rena quando turbo spira. «Even as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes.»
Dante enters Hell. He calls it “aura senza tempo” to give the idea of something that it’s meant to last forever. It’s dark like a starless night. You somehow can sense this because anything looks timeless, foggy and not meant for the human eyes to see. The souls’ pain is endless, it goes on and on non stop forever.
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Dante meets the damned souls for the first time. They are screaming, cursing, in agony. He feels their sorrow and starts crying out of compassion.
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Ed elli a me: "Questo misero modo «And he to me: "This miserable mode»
Tegnon l'anime triste di coloro «Maintain the melancholy souls of those»
che visser sanza 'nfamia e sanza lodo. «Who lived withouten infamy or praise.»
Mischiate sono a quel cattivo coro «Commingled are they with that caitiff choir»
de li angeli che non furon ribelli «Of Angels, who have not rebellious been,»
né fur fedeli a Dio, ma per sé fuoro. «Νor faithful were to God, but were for self.»
Caccianli i ciel per non esser men belli, «The heavens expelled them, not to be less fair;»
né lo profondo inferno li riceve, «Nor them the nethermore abyss receives,»
Ch’alcuna gloria i rei avrebber d'elli". «For glory none the damned would have from them."»
Dante introduces the “ignavi”, the ones “who lived without infamy or praise”. He was referring to people who weren’t able to take positions and stand for what they believed in their lives. It’s something very close to Dante’s heart because his passion for politics was the reason of his exile from the city he was born in. He couldn’t stand those people who wouldn’t fight openly for what they believe (or maybe for who they are?)
Isn’t this the major accusation people do to H? Don’t Some people call out the ambiguity of his actions, choices, silent clear enough to point the finger against him for not picking a side? The queerbaiting thing too? And H just… lets them? Kinda?
Questi non hanno speranza di morte «These have no longer any hope of death;»
e la lor cieca vita è tanto bassa, «And this blind life of theirs is so debased,»
Fama di loro il mondo esser non lassa; «They envious are of every other fate.»
misericordia e giustizia li sdegna: «No fame of them the world permits to be;»
non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa. «Let us not speak of them, but look, and pass.»
E io, che riguardai, vidi una 'nsegna «And I, who looked again, beheld a banner,»
che girando correva tanto ratta, «which, whirling round, ran on so rapidly,»
che d'ogne posa mi parea indegna; That of all pause it seemed to me indignant
His words are strong words. Even Virgilio, his mate for the trip, suggests to not waste more time worrying about them. They leave together for the next stop
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And they go on with their journey not before Dante sees what the damned souls are doing: running after a flag they kinda neglected in their lives.
H doesn’t, hough. He waves it anytime he can :) remeber that video of H taking the little rainbow flag out of his jacket and waves it? How cute was that?
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♥️ this post is for @moonslust who seemed very enthusiastic of the idea
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Stephen Strange HAND related head canons:
I’ve held these since seeing the first Doctor Strange movie.
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Stephen always had talented hands, including a mastery of video games that quickly made his friends give up playing against him until he agreed to use his left hand instead of his dominant hand. His keenly competitive nature meant he still won at least three out of four times.
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But those same talented hands showed a genius in his youth to rival the future genius of his surgeon’s hands. 
Beverly Strange was proud of the family heirloom, upright piano that graced the front sitting room of the family farmhouse. It was one of the few things she brought to the marriage from the home of her birth. She played well enough herself, and in lean times, supplemented the family income by giving beginner lessons to the children of local town families. And she gave Stephen his initial lessons--quickly delighting in how he took to it like a duckling to water.
Stephen seemed to have a natural ear, and aided by his eidetic memory, he easily mastered all the pieces she taught him and all sheet music she owned. The first Christmas after she had taught him to play, Beverly ensured that among the meager gifts he’d find under the tree, was a binder full of the simplest of Beethoven’s works. His father, Eugene, perpetually frowned upon Beverly’s indulgence of their son’s impractical hobby--but allowed it so long as it didn’t detract from his farm work and schoolwork. 
As the oldest of three children, Stephen bore the heaviest burden of farm chores, but he did his best to carve out at least a little time every day to practice. Eventually, the school’s Music Teacher noticed his amazing acumen, and did whatever she could to feed his enthusiasm and talent. Between Beverly and his kindly teacher, Stephen found the time and resources needed to continue his progression on the piano.
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However, once Stephen discovered a passion for the study of human biology and began to imagine a future as a doctor, he came to the first future-altering juncture of his young life. He had reached the point in his musical studies that he could potentially make a career of it. Even the lofty position of concert pianist was not out of his reach. But he could only dedicate his prodigious mind and dextrous hands to one path if he were to succeed--so that his passion for medicine won out. He never regretted that choice either. Although as soon as he could comfortably afford it, he finally got his own baby grand so that in his downtime he could tickle the ivories whenever the whim came upon him.
@doctorstrangeaskblog​
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curioussubjects · 4 years
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come be a season 12 truther with me; or what if dean and cas got together offscreen
Originally, I wrote this post to celebrate “Galaxy Brain” airing as Berens & Glynn gave us “The Future.” It’s been a while since that episode aired, and some things have changed about this meta. As such, there are multiple versions of this post floating around, so make sure to go back to the source for the most up to date version.  For all intents and purposes, this post functions as a meta manifesto not unlike shipping manifestos from days of LJ past. In keeping with that tradition, this post is a close reading of Dabb Era Destiel in which I argue that by using narrative gaps, queer coding, and romance tropes, Dean and Cas are shown to be in an established relationship. Although beyond the scope of this post, it’s worth pointing out that keeping Destiel mostly off screen was a way for the creatives to bypass network censorship while still remaining true to the characters.
This post is divided into three sections. Section I focuses on giving an overview of why earlier seasons of Supernatural aren’t as compelling as season 12 as a turning point for Dean and Cas’s relationship. That said, special consideration is given to 09.06 “Heaven Can’t Wait” as a potential rest stop in our journey due to it’s significantly placed narrative gap as well as themes in the episode. However, this post isn’t going to examine season 9 trutherism in depth, though it does coexist with and allow for it. Section II analyses season 12 and proposes a timeline and justification for the shifting Destiel dynamic. Finally, Section III will offer an analysis of how Dean and Cas’s relationship has changed dramatically from previous seasons in a way that is most like the shift from a “will they or won’t they” pairing to an established one. 
Before I move to Section I, I’d like to note something this post takes for granted: Dean and Cas are the main romantic subplot of Supernatural, and, in fact, their relationship is elevated to main plot for both characters in season 15. This post won’t argue about the canonicity of Dean and Cas’s feelings for each other, therefore, and so won’t spend time looking at many Destiel defining moments. I’d also like to make clear that this post also takes for granted that Destiel is being intentionally developed by the writers starting with Carver’s Era, and more so in Dabb’s. 
I. Why Seasons 4 through 11 May Not be It
The tl;dr. here is that while there are many moments throughout these seasons that Dean and Cas could potentially get together, none of those moments are ideal for a bunch of reasons that can be summed up as really bad timing. I also think the narrative is actively pushing them towards a moment that works. We get plenty of stepping stones, especially once we hit seasons 8 through 11 (and 11 most of all).
Seasons 4 & 5:
I know there’s been a lot of get together fics over the years set in this time period, but I just don’t see it. Do I see them being intrigued and drawn to each other? Yes. Do I think either Cas or Dean would act on it? Nope. I’m not arguing anything re: Dean’s feelings, but with everything going at the time I find it hard to believe he’d pursue anything with his angel friend. Most importantly here, though, is that during this time Cas was still very alien and other. There was too much angel in him, and while he obviously came to care about Dean (and Sam) very much, I just can’t see him navigating the realm of human relationships. That said, seeing human!Cas in “The End” is the first we see of potential developments for how Cas could behave without his angelness interfering. Being human changes Cas a lot, beyond even his experience existing among humans, though that of course matters too. This development will be important later /wink.
Seasons 6 & 7:
Before anything else let me just recognize that if we could see some sexual tension in seasons 4 & 5, these two seasons come with our first taste of romantic tension. The pining! Also note the difference between season 4 Cas and season 6 Cas in terms of behaviour. He is much less the angel we saw in that barn in “Lazarus Rising.” In season 6, we have a Cas making misguided decisions guided entirely by his emotions – namely, not wanting to involve Dean with the war in heaven – which is peak human, honestly. Put a pin on how sad Dean is in both seasons with Cas’s absence. Finally, put a pin on this being our first moment of Cas doing things on his own to spare Dean and it not ending well (soulless!Sam, Cas “dying” after Leviathan) because this is *the* hurdle in their relationship (along with Dean’s lashing out and self-worth issues). With all this said, the marked distance between Dean and Cas in these seasons negates the possibility of them entering into any kind of relationship. Much like seasons 4 and 5, there’s too much going on.
Season 8:
Ah, yes, the summer of purgatory. If you thought we had pining before…! I think we’re all very clear on season 8 being a turning point for the show, not only because new showrunner, but we also get the bunker. TFW now has an HQ, which pretty soon becomes home. Yes, Baby will always be home, but the bunker becomes the *unmovable* safe haven that Baby couldn’t be. The bunker is a place to coalesce, and for all the amazing things Baby is, she is not that. The acquisition of the bunker marks a shift in the psychology of the show: with the stable home space we can start to imagine domesticity, a place to come home to, the stuff of ordinary living. Most of all, the bunker is emblematic of security, of safety –keep this in mind, as we go forward.
This season also continues to see Cas go down the path of independently solving his problems instead of asking for help from Sam and Dean (his family in a way heaven never was) – note that the better together issue is at play in different ways with Sam and Dean also, but I digress. I also want to point out disastrous instance #2 of Cas’s insistence on figuring it out on his own: he loses his grace, and the angels fall. As for Dean, season 8’s focus for him has much to do with Sam, and them coming face to face with their issues with codependency, which hit catastrophic levels with the gates of hell and Gadreel plots.
So despite all the deliciously angsty get together purgatory fics and spec, there’s too much distance between Dean and Cas on Cas’s part due to his guilt over betraying the Winchesters in s6 plus slaughtering angels plus unleashing Leviathan. We do see Dean being more emotionally open with Cas and continue to voicing his wish that Cas would just stay with him and Sam, and let them help. It’s clear as day how much Dean cares. The timing is still bad, though.
Before moving on to next season, let’s take a moment to appreciate that this is the season Dean admits being kinda done with one night stands because “always with the adios.” Remember the bunker as a sign of stability? Yeah. I wouldn’t say Dean is craving a relationship, exactly, but I think we can see that he does want something more (ahem also I’m nodding to Cas refusing to stay put just cause).
Seasons 9 & 10:
The most important thing to happen between this two seasons is Cas’s stint as a human for an extended period of time. There’s been plenty of spec and meta written over the years about the effects of being human on Cas’s grace (a proto-soul now maybe?). What we can say for sure, regardless, is that Cas is much more humanized once he becomes an angel again. The understanding he gets from being human doesn’t go away once he regains his angel powers. You’ll notice that while we still see some of season 4’s characterization, Cas is not the same as he was – he is alien to angels now and is more intelligible to humans. Additionally, in an interesting reversal from previous seasons, we now get to see the depth of Cas’s feelings for Dean (thanks, Metatron) as well as seeing him be more open emotionally, while Dean does most of the pushing away (first because of Gadreel, then because of the Mark of Cain). In short, the timing is still bad as Dean and Cas are largely kept apart both physically and emotionally.
9.06 Heaven Can’t Wait
This episode is my white whale, friends. While I’ve come to fully subscribe to the idea that something did happen between Dean and Cas during the fanfic gap, I don’t actually think it’s feasible that it marked the start of a relationship -- be it sexual or romantic. My reasoning here is quite simple: the timing is bad. Were it not for external events (Cas regaining his Grace and Dean taking on the MoC), the course would have likely differed. Furthermore, Dean’s guilt over making Cas leave the bunker as well as Cas’s own hurt and self-loathing pose a significant and as yet insurmountable obstacle, which is easily seen with how Dean and Cas’s character trajectories go separate ways.
YMMV on what exactly happened between them in that Motel, but something definitely did. Perhaps one day I’ll have a proper s9 trutherism post to link to here for more details (likely won’t be written by me, though). 
10.16 Paint It Black
From the point Dean gets the MoC until the end of season 10, anything between him and Cas is quite impossible due to distancing, to say the least. Again, yes, the fic is really good, but alas. One of the reasons I’m bringing up this episode in particular is because of the confession scene. One, it’s a rare bit of explicit emotional honesty from Dean, and two, it tells me that while he and Cas may be well aware of the Thing™ between them, it’s still uncharted waters. It’s scary, and murky, and they’re unsure how to navigated it or if they should even try. Makes sense, too, there’s been A LOT going on since s6. Anyway, he’s the full confession:
You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it. […]  Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time. […]  Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought.
Can I just say, first, that this confession keeps me up at night because we never actually see anything done with it explicitly? I mean, obviously, I think we do in fact see the effects of this confession in the show, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this behemoth, but still, like. Damn. Ok, so, remember when I brought up that thing in season 7 about Dean being kinda done with hook-ups? Here’s where that led us. We’re seeing a Dean here who wants more than what he has convinced himself he gets to have. He wants more than dying bloody. And when he talks about wanting to experience people and feelings differently, well, that says a lot not just on the queer coding front or the romantic front. I mean, jfc, Dean is accepting the idea that he can have more in life than just hunt until he drops, and he’s specifically talking about experiences at the interpersonal level.
Do you ever see a character having an epiphany and find yourself wanting to cry because this is it right here. Dean is just blatantly admitting he wants more and maybe he can make himself be open to that (!!!), which all culminates in season 11, so…
Season 11:
The pining is still here, but it’s worse now since it’s the whole plot? It’s been *checks calendar* 5 years of this. How are any of us still kicking I don’t know. Your slow burns could never. Cool worth noting points: Cas says yes to Lucifer (bad decision #2.5, lots of mitigating effects_I don’t actually hold it against him that much but Dean is another story & not entirely rational at this point); for the first time since the early days, Dean and Cas are on equal grounds: they’ve both fucked up a lot and have hurt each other. The issues this season are outside their dynamic. Amara and Lucifer here serve as externalizing forces for Dean and Cas’s problems: Cas checks out with Lucifer because he thinks it’s the only way he can help, Dean is caught up in the turmoil of Amara, the emblem of absence and avoidance of struggle. We do get something like an affirmation from the two of them to each other via Dean calling Cas his brother (and I want y’all to consider the historical queering of that statement, and Cas’s “I could go with you.” It feels like we’re headed to them being on the same page. By the end of the season, though, it feels like we’re getting a clean slate: Mary is back, nobody died, no end-of-the-world in sight, no interpersonal crisis. We’re also getting a new showrunner, so. No wonder. We’re gearing up for something, but I’m getting ahead of myself. What this season does that is super important is that it sets up the stage for the possibility of an actual relationship between Dean and Cas, something that has, up until this point, been pretty much impossible.
11.04 Baby
Y’all know what I’m about to quote here, right? That conversation between Dean and Sam about having something with someone who understands the life. Here we still have Dean reverting to the idea that it’s impossible, which is a direct contrast to the openness in 10.16. It’s understandable, though, considering there’s been little reason to think anything like that would be possible (see all the mess and poor timing from seasons past). The quote in question, though, marks a continuing development regarding the issues Dean is struggling with this season:
DEAN: Piper? That’s awesome. Heather. One-night wonders, man. Shoot, we’re lucky we still get that at all. SAM: Really? You don’t … Ever want something more? DEAN: I’m sorry, have you met us? We’re batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don’t ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But … Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?
We wouldn’t be talking about this stuff all these years after Sam and Dean had a serious relationship if it wasn’t important, right? Also who else do we meet this season? That’s right! Eileen! And doesn’t that hit different with season 15 hindsight? And who does Dean have that understands the life? Whose stories have been intricately connected to his? Right now, this is all conjecture. A pipe dream Sam is revisiting, and Dean is skeptical about. Except, well. Look at what we get in “Into the Mystic” and “The Chitters.”
11.11 Into The Mystic
I’m bringing up this episode as a cross reference to “Paint It Black” as well as to complement the talk from “Baby,” and to show, again, that, for all the closeness between Dean and Cas, there’s still a marked distance they haven’t yet bridged. There’s still truths they haven’t told each other. Thanks Mildred for the delicious exposition:
Darlin’…If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years on the road, it’s when somebody’s pining for somebody else. […] Oh, don’t try and hide it now. Follow your heart. Remember?
11.19 The Chitters
And here we see some validation to Sam’s imagining of a possible future with someone else. We actually see hunters who not only are married, but they both make it out alive. Jesse and Cesar get their happy ending. They make the dream come true. And the reality of it important not just for Dean to see, but Sam too.
Dean: [with realization] Oh, so … [points back and forth to Jesse and Cesar] Cesar: Yeah. Dean: Okay, that’s… Cesar puts his beer bottle on the table and looks at Dean, while Jesse is being silent. Dean: What’s it like, settling down with a hunter? Cesar: Smelly, dirty. [turns to Jesse] Twice the worrying about getting ganked.
I’d like to point out, too, that the fear of getting ganked is thematic when it comes to the tension between Dean and Cas. More on this when we hit s13.
Alright, now, having said that, let’s take a look at season 12. Bear in mind, this is the official start of Dabb’s era, even if he kinda began taking over in season 11, and the change in vibes is obvious. In fact, 12 jumped out at me as a turning point, in hindsight, after getting smacked by the domesticity of seasons 13 and 14.
II. Why Season 12
[Out of date section. Update coming soon when spoons. After significant debate, I’ve altered the definitive start of Dean and Cas’s friend-with-benefits-with-mutual-pining relationship to between 12.02 and 12.03. I briefly explained why here, and yes it’s a shitpost--still true tho.]
Finally, the promise land, y’all. Getting right to it: what s11 was for Dean in terms of setting up the relationship stage, s12 was for Cas. In its initial beats, any way. That is, until the Kelly debacle, this was the longest Cas has been around the bunker and with the exception of seasons 13 and 14, it’s one of the first times we get to see how Cas might actually fit into the bunker-as-home. Things seem remarkably chill. Of course, we’ll notice that there’s still a lot of baggage hanging around because despite Dean and Cas being in a more stable place, they haven’t actually dealt with their interpersonal problems. I didn’t single out directly this episode, but do keep in mind Cas’s declaration in 12.09 First Blood as far as how much the Winchesters matter to Cas & how we also see Dean and Cas be particularly singled out with them seating together in the backseat of the Impala. What we also see this season is Cas trying to prove he is worthy of this family, his family. He’s not fighting for heaven or to right some grievous wrong (a la s8). No, this season he’s fighting to spare the Winchester, to bring them a win. To bring Dean a win. The major disconnect is that Dean (and Sam & Mary) already sees Cas that way, he doesn’t think Cas has anything to prove. And just maybe, Cas starts believing that too – or, at least, believing it enough.
12.10 Lily Sunders Has Some Regrets
This episode, oh my god, the goodness. In the wake of 12.09 we have Dean and Cas in a tiff because Cas mistake #3 (killing Billie and “cosmic consequences”), this is a pattern. Twice the worry of getting ganked, etc etc. But where this episode really shines is through the contrast between Ishim’s obsession with Lily and Cas & Dean’s mutual affection for each other. Ishim sees no difference here and, to him, Cas’s feelings for Dean are a human weakness. Returning to my point about human!Cas, this episode underscores that Cas’s increasing humanity is what puts him in the place where he can want what Dean wants instead of either being too alien to get it (see s4 & 5) or unable to experience it properly (Ishim).
12.12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)
Cas’s trajectory culminates here with the whole I love you (@ Dean), I love all of you (@ Winchesters). Let’s note too that Cas is dying here, in a way that is much more human than going up in light. This declaration of different types of love is entirely human. It’s also a definitive step wrt to Cas and Dean’s relationship because of what happens in 12.19. This. is. it. Oh, and, of course, let’s not forget to point to Dean’s face when Cas says that “I love you,” and how terrified he is that Cas is dying. Might make one rethink some things, hm?
12.19 The Future
This episode is simply hella suspicious, and all the kudos to Berens and Glynn for writing it. It’ll haunt me forever. Consider watching it again and just questioning everything. So. Weird things:
1. Dean’s reaction to Cas no getting in touch as opposed to Sam’s. Dean is pissed, which is Dean-speak for worried out of his mind. Sam is very worried, too, and puzzled, but he’s mostly expressing his relief that Cas is back. But Cas has gone awol before, but this time Dean is much more worked up about it; Sam takes note of this, too. Now, let’s imagine that maybe the events of 12.12 led to something happening between Dean and Cas. Then Cas decided to leave to find a lead on Kelly, but eventually Cas decides to work with Heaven and goes radio silent. For days. Having taken a chance, and something having happened between them, how would Dean react to Cas just going poof and not contacting him – despite Dean having called Cas multiple times.
2. Cas knows about the Colt. Ok, nothing off there. But when he goes to Dean’s room to talk, right after Dean leaves we see Cas looking around briefly. Like he know Dean would keep it in there. Maybe Cas had looked other places already. Who knows. What we do know is that eventually he does find the Colt not only in Dean’s room, but under Dean’s pillow. Sam didn’t even know the Colt wasn’t in the safe. So how did Cas know?
3.“He came into my room and he played me.” So, this quote right there, makes it seem like some seduction for personal gain, right? But can you see Cas actually doing that if they hadn’t gone there previously? For Dean not to suspect anything and go with it? There’s plenty of plausible deniability here, but the gaps in time in the narrative make me question what is there in those spaces. The scene where Cas tried to give Dean the mixtape back doesn’t read like “playing,” so it’s about a different interaction. Hm. Hmmm.
4. Dean and Cas’s brief conversation in Dean’s room is clearly Dean just wanting Cas to stay, so they can work (and be) together – because they’re better that way. Which, yeah, truth, but also ow.
5.And most importantly: When did Dean give Cas that mixtape??? How did that happen?
Sequence of events: Cas tells Dean he loves him – Dean is clearly shook by it – Dean gives Cas a mixtape (romantic gesture, often a declaration of feelings; in true Dean speak too lolsobs) – Cas goes awol - Dean acts like he got ghosted by his new bf -?????- Cas somehow knows the Colt is under Dean’s pillow – "He went into my room and he played me."
What am I supposed to do with that, hm? Like. Y’all realize they probably had some emotionally constipated getting together moment, right? Something that Dean clearly initially thought meant things were gonna change, now. Something that Cas couldn’t allow to happen until he could give Dean a win. Y’all are seeing this, yeah? I’m not saying they slept together and were full of feelings, except that’s kind of what I’m saying. But YMMV, there are other possibilities beyond sex. The full of feelings isn’t up for debate, though, even if the whole thing is informed by ridiculous amounts of miscommunication.
III. Seasons 13 through 15 As Established Relationship
Regardless of what happened in season 12, exactly, I can’t shake the feeling that something did happen, and something did change. My reasoning here is actually really simple: in comparison to previous seasons, Dean and Cas’s dynamic shifts significantly come season 13. I know some folks have been disappointed with some of season 13 and then season 14 for having dialed back on the destiel side of things. And, hey, maybe there’s truth to that in terms of backstage stuff, but I also want to point out that...well, the dialing back isn’t quite dialing back is it? Let’s look at 13 a little more closely:
Season 13:
So I said the deancas dynamic changed, right? I also think that change caught us unaware because the pivotal turning point that would cue us in never happened on screen as well as being subsumed by Cas’s death and Jack’s birth. But if I ask you about deancas in season 13 what would come to mind? Grief arc? Brokebacknatural? How domestic Dean and Cas are? There’s just something easy about their relationship after Cas returns from the Empty. The tension we’d grown so familiar with over the years is gone. Actually, it feels like we skipped the getting together bit of their relationship and went straight to established relationship and parenting. Some of the most peak married deancas moments we see circulating? Season 13, (and 12.10). It’s a lot, and it’s different, and it’s amazing.
13.01-13.05
Dean’s grief mini-arc. He was acting like a widower. Here’s me vaguely gesturing towards the mapping of Jonh, Mary, Dean, and Sam onto Dean, Cas, Sam, and Jack. And the reunion? I can’t help but be giddy at the song choice: “it’s never too late to start all over again.” To. Start. All. Over. Again. I’m just saying.
13.06 Tombstone & 13.16 Scoobynatural
I’m not going at length about these episodes, I just want to point out that they reveal that Dean and Cas have a whole thing going on off screen: they watch movies together, Cas knows about Dean being an angry sleeper, Cas seems to have been aware of the Dean-cave before Sam was. It’s little things like this that are examples of the narrative gaps surrounding Dean and Cas that have cropped up over the years. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder what else could be hiding there. And when did the movie nights alluded in “Tombstone” happen? Maybe in season 12 when Cas in hanging around the bunker? The same period when Dean and Cas seem to be coalescing into something safer and more stable? Something that we never see come to a head because plot happens and Cas dies? Something that is immediately taken back up once Cas is alive again?
Season 14:
Overall, this season is more of what we got during 13, but it had two high notes I wanted to single out before ending this already too long post.
14.15 Peace of Mind
Look me in the eye and tell me Dean and Cas talking in the kitchen about Jack doesn’t read like husbands talking about their child. Look me in the eye and tell me Cas just texting Dean to gossip about Sam isn’t couple-y as hell.
14.18-14.20
Ah, yes, the divorce arc. Awful. Terrible. The culmination of Dean’s problem in all this: he lashes out, he pushes Cas away, his anger is alienating. Cue all of us suffering. But while Dean is clearly in the wrong in how the deals with his feelings, let’s not pretend some of his anger doesn’t come from a long established, and unaddressed, rift between him and Cas, which had its last traumatic turn when Cas died in s12. Dean isn’t being rational here: he saw Cas doing something on his own, and he saw that his mother is dead. What else could happen? Why won’t Cas just trust they can work as a team? What if Cas died again? And why should Cas put up with Dean’s behavior without knowing the cause? How can any relationship work this way? But notice how caught in the middle Sam was during all this. Notice how Jack is running off and acting out. The whole family is falling apart. Divorce arc, indeed.
Season 15:
But what about what we’re building up in 15? That seems like it could be a getting together plot, too, right? Well, yeah. It could very well be. But I’d argue the tension we’re seeing isn’t a will-they-or-won’t-they because they already have. We’re are watching a getting back together plot! The tension is, instead, will-they-or -won’t-they use their words to talk about the baggage that has kept them from truly being confident about their relationship. That’s the crucial step in their togetherness that they’re still missing, which is also the bedrock of the divorce arc that spanned twelve fucking episodes -- y’all, that’s half a season.
And technically? We’re not even done with yet because Cas never let Dean finish his prayer/confession in purgatory. What’s more, Cas hasn’t grappled with his role in the breakdown of their relationship, either: that he keeps going off on his own and getting hurt (and getting other people hurt), and Dean has to deal with the fallout. The deep emotional understanding, the truly being on the same page is what we’re on the edge of our seats for. We’re waiting to see what else Dean had to say, and what will happen when Cas’s deal with the Empty comes to light.
Finally, could we still have this plot without Dean and Cas having gotten together off screen? Sure, but I think the stakes are higher if they already did have something between them. If they actually have an established romantic relationship going on. Something real and tangible and as of yet much too fragile.
"...you asked what about all this is real. We are."
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loneberry · 3 years
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The Waters of Lethe Wash
“Once the dead man has been washed, he can set out on a journey. All Indo-Germanic pilgrims—Greek, Indic, Nordic, and Celtic—cross the same funeral landscape on their way to the beyond, and the mythical hydrology on that route is the same: at the end of their journey they reach a body of water. This water separates two worlds: it divides the present from the past into which the dead move. This other world does not have one common fixed location on the mental map of Indo-Germanic myths; it may be located below the earth, on a mountain top, on an island, in the sky, or in a cave. However, this other world is always a realm lying beyond a body of water—beyond ocean, river, or bay. In some regions one crosses this water on a ferry; in others one must wade or swim. The slow, flowing waters the traveler crosses are everywhere emblematic of the stream of forgetfulness; the water has the power to strip those who cross it of memories that attach them to life. The sleepy beating of the head in the threnos with which the mourning women lull the heroes of Thebes into their last sleep reminds Aeschylus of the monotonous beat of the oars across the river Acheron.
“This river, which sums up recollections, detaches memories, detaches from the dead those deeds that survive them, came to be called “Lethe” by the Greeks. Just as the Egyptians, for whom the Nile had been the divide between the two kingdoms, placed the reign of shadow on the western bank toward the horizon where Heaven and Earth are fused, so in late antiquity this body of water was located in far-off Galicia. During the Middle Ages the poor souls on the way to purgatory had to cross the Atlantic Ocean to reach the fabulous island of Saint Patrick, shown to the northwest of Cabo Verde until late into the fifteenth century.
“Bruce Lincoln has shown that there is yet another common feature in all Indo-Germanic mytho-hydrography. What the rivers or beaches wash from those who cross them is not destroyed. All mythic waters feed a source that is located on the other side. The streams carry the memories that Lethe has washed from the feet of the dead to this well thereby turning dead men into mere shadows. This well of remembrance the Greeks called “Mnemosyne.” In her clear waters, the residues of lived-out lives float like the specks of fine sand at the bottom of a bubbling spring. Thus a mortal who has been blessed by the gods can approach this well and listen to the Muses sing in their several voices what is, what was, and what will be. Under the protection of Mnemosyne, he may recollect the residues that have sunk into her bosom by drinking from her waters. When he returns from his journey, from his dream or vision, he can tell what he has drawn from this source. Philo says that by taking the place of a shadow the poet recollects the deeds which a dead man has forgotten. In this way the world of the living is constantly nourished by the flow from Mnemosyne’s lap through which dream water ferries to the living those deeds that the shadows no longer need.”
—Ivan Illich, H20 and the Waters of Forgetfulness
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cinemasian · 3 years
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Takeshi Kitano & being an outsider in Japanese cinema
In this article, i want to take you with me to another trip to Japan, to discuss an emblematic 90′s movie, Kikujiro's summer, and its director’s Takeshi Kitano’s incredible career. 
Kikujiro's summer’s (1999) is inspired by Jacques Tati's My Uncle, both visually and in the character's dynamics. It is a very bittersweet movie about childhood and its dramas. But it is also a beautiful story about an unusual friendship, between a retired yakuza, played by Kitano himself, and a mute little boy. The movie starts when this little boy finds, at his grandmother's place, a photograph of his mother, who lives far away for work. One of his grandmother's friend offers that her husband, accompanies the boy in his journey, to reunite with his mother. This man, who refers to himself as “Mister”, spends all the money he was loaned for the trip, at horse races. Him and the boy have to hitchhike, and on their journey, they encounter odd characters and live various adventures. All these people they meet on the road are outsiders in their own ways. 
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Even though the beautiful music from Joe Hisaichi as well as the story and colorful images seem very innocent, there is a longing melancholy that inhabits the movie. It is a beautiful reflection on what it is to exist outside of the norms, in a Japanese society where they are the society's cornerstone. It also evokes the loneliness you can experience when you are a child, and how one can find parental figures through unusual role models.
This movie also is a mirror of its charismatic yet mysterious director and main actor, Takeshi Kitano. Takeshi Kitano is a key figure of japanese pop culture, a chimera with several heads: actor, director, writer, comic, painter, there is nothing he can’t do. He started his career by performing in cabarets as a comic actor. During this time, he adopts the pseudonym Beats Takeshi, whom will become his televisual double. He appears on various TV shows and gain a huge popularity, because people laughed at him. After several years, he decides to switch his career, and become a “legitimate” actor: he acts in very violent movies, as he his fascinated with the yakuzas, japanese mafiosos.  He also directs his own movies, that are extremely dark and violent, and tend to shock Japanese audiences; he achieves international recognition when he wins a prize at Venice's film festival, for his beautiful movie Hanabi. But the media tension is at its peak, because Japanese want to see Beats Takeshi again, a character created to entertain audiences, while film buffs want more movies from Takeshi Kitano, an acclaimed filmmaker.   The figure of Kitano seems to be a metaphor of Japan’s entertainment industry: who really is the comic? Who is the director? Who is the real man behind these alter egos?
The question still is unanswered today, but Takeshi Kitano is a multifaceted and fascinating artist. Through his filmography and other forms of art, he preserves an unconditional freedom of creation. With Kikujiro's summer, he offers a new image: one of an adult who wants to keep his child's soul alive. His career is an invitation to not take being a public figure so seriously, but rather enjoy every part of the creative process. Through his persona, he teaches us that you can make either very violent, or tender movies and still find excitement in each genre.
If you want to learn more about Takeshi Kitano and his work, i encourage you to watch Citizen Kitano, a documentary available on Arte's website. 
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hlupdate · 5 years
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Harry Styles isn’t exactly dressed down for lunch. He’s got a white floppy hat that Diana Ross might have won from Elton in a poker game at Cher’s mansion circa 1974, plus Gucci shades, a cashmere sweater, and blue denim bell-bottoms. His nail polish is pink and mint green. He’s also carrying his purse — no other word for it — a yellow patent-canvas bag with the logo “Chateau Marmont.” The tough old ladies who work at this Beverly Hills deli know him well. Gloria and Raisa dote on him, calling him “my love” and bringing him his usual tuna salad and iced coffee. He turns heads, to put it mildly, but nobody comes near because the waitresses hover around the booth protectively.
He was just a small-town English lad of 16 when he became his generation’s pop idol with One Direction. When the group went on hiatus, he struck out on his own with his brash 2017 solo debut, whose lead single was the magnificently over-the-top six-minute piano ballad “Sign of the Times.” Even people who missed out on One Direction were shocked to learn the truth: This pinup boy was a rock star at heart.
A quick highlight reel of Harry’s 2019 so far: He hosted the Met Gala with Lady Gaga, Serena Williams, Alessandro Michele, and Anna Wintour serving an eyebrow-raising black lace red-carpet look. He is the official face of a designer genderless fragrance, Gucci’s Mémoire d’une Odeur. When James Corden had an all-star dodgeball match on The Late Late Show, Harry got spiked by a hard serve from Michelle Obama, making him perhaps the first Englishman ever hit in the nads on TV by a First Lady.
Closer to his heart, he brought down the house at this year’s Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ceremony with his tribute to his friend and idol Stevie Nicks. “She’s always there for you,” Harry said in his speech. “She knows what you need: advice, a little wisdom, a blouse, a shawl.” He added, “She’s responsible for more running mascara — including my own — than all the bad dates in history.” (Backstage, Nicks accidentally referred to Harry’s former band as “’NSync.” Hey, a goddess can get away with that sort of thing.)
Harry has been the world’s It boy for nearly a decade now. The weirdest thing about him? He loves being this guy. In a style of fast-lane celebrity that takes a ruthless toll on the artist’s personality, creativity, sanity, Harry is almost freakishly at ease. He has managed to grow up in public with all his boyish enthusiasm intact, not to mention his manners. He’s dated a string of high-profile women — but he never gets caught uttering any of their names in public, much less shading any of them. Instead of going the usual superstar-pop route — en vogue producers, celebrity duets, glitzy club beats — he’s gone his own way, and gotten more popular than ever. He’s putting the finishing touches on his new album, full of the toughest, most soulful songs he’s written yet. As he explains, “It’s all about having sex and feeling sad.”
The Harry Charm is a force of nature, and it can be almost frightening to witness in action. The most startling example might be a backstage photo from February taken with one of his heroes, Van Morrison. You have never seen a Van picture like this one. He’s been posing for photos for 50 years, and he’s been refusing to crack a smile in nearly all of them. Until he met Harry — for some reason, Van beams like a giddy schoolgirl. What did Harry do to him? “I was tickling him behind his back,” Harry confides. “Somebody sent me that photo — I think his tour manager took it. When I saw it, I felt like John Travolta in Pulp Fiction opening the case with the gold light shining. I was like, ‘Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t show this to anyone.’”
In interviews, Harry has always tended to coast on that charm, simply because he can. In his teens, he was in public every minute and became adept at guarding every scrap of his privacy. But these days, he’s finding out he has things he wants to say. He’s more confident about thinking out loud and seeing what happens. “Looser” is how he puts it. “More open. I’m discovering how much better it makes me feel to be open with friends. Feeling that vulnerability, rather than holding everything in.”
Like a lot of people his age, he’s asking questions about culture, gender, identity, new ideas about masculinity and sexuality. “I feel pretty lucky to have a group of friends who are guys who would talk about their emotions and be really open,” he says. “My friend’s dad said to me, ‘You guys are so much better at it than we are. I never had friends I could really talk to. It’s good that you guys have each other because you talk about real shit. We just didn’t.’”
It’s changed how he approaches his songs. “For me, it doesn’t mean I’ll sit down and be like, ‘This is what I have for dinner, and this is where I eat every day, and this is what I do before I go to bed,’” he says. “But I will tell you that I can be really pathetic when I’m jealous. Feeling happier than I’ve ever been, sadder than I’ve ever been, feeling sorry for myself, being mad at myself, being petty and pitiful — it feels really different to share that.”
At times, Harry sounds like an ordinary 25-year-old figuring his shit out, which, of course, he is. (Harry and I got to know each other last year, when he got in touch after reading one of my books, though I’d already been writing about his music for years.) It’s strange to hear him talk about shedding his anxieties and doubts, since he’s always come across as one of the planet’s most confident people. “While I was in the band,” he says, “I was constantly scared I might sing a wrong note. I felt so much weight in terms of not getting things wrong. I remember when I signed my record deal and I asked my manager, ‘What happens if I get arrested? Does it mean the contract is null and void?’ Now, I feel like the fans have given me an environment to be myself and grow up and create this safe space to learn and make mistakes.”
We slip out the back and spend a Saturday afternoon cruising L.A. in his 1972 silver Jaguar E-type. The radio doesn’t work, so we just sing “Old Town Road.” He marvels, “‘Bull riding and boobies’ — that is potentially the greatest lyric in any song ever.” Harry used to be pop’s mystery boy, so diplomatic and tight-lipped. But as he opens up over time, telling his story, he reaches the point where he’s pitching possible headlines for this profile. His best: “Soup, Sex, and Sun Salutations.”
How did he get to this new place? As it turns out, the journey involves some heartbreak. Some guidance from David Bowie. Some Transcendental Meditation. And more than a handful of magic mushrooms. But mostly, it comes down to a curious kid who can’t decide whether to be the world’s most ardently adored pop star, or a freaky artiste. So he decides to be both.
Two things about English rock stars never change: They love Southern California, and they love cars. A few days after Harry proclaimed the genius of “Old Town Road,” we’re in a different ride — a Tesla — cruising the Pacific Coast Highway while Harry sings along to the radio. “Californiaaaaaa!” he yells from behind the wheel as we whip past Zuma Beach. “It sucks!” There’s a surprising number of couples along the beach who seem to be arguing. We speculate on which ones are breaking up and which are merely having the talk. “Ah, yes, the talk,” Harry says dreamily. “Ye olde chat.”
Harry is feeling the smooth Seventies yacht-rock grooves today, blasting Gerry Rafferty, Pablo Cruise, Hall and Oates. When I mention that Nina Simone once did a version of “Rich Girl,” he needs to hear it right away. He counters by blowing my mind with Donny Hathaway’s version of John Lennon’s “Jealous Guy.”
Harry raves about a quintessential SoCal trip he just tried: a “cold sauna,” a process that involves getting locked in an ice chamber. His eyelashes froze. We stop for a smoothie (“It’s basically ice cream”) and his favorite pepper-intensive wheatgrass shot. It goes down like a dose of battery acid. “That’ll add years to your life,” he assures me.
We’re on our way to Shangri-La studios in Malibu, founded by the Band back in the 1970s, now owned by Rick Rubin. It’s where Harry made some of the upcoming album, and as we walk in, he grins at the memory. “Ah, yes,” he says. “Did a lot of mushrooms in here.”
Psychedelics have started to play a key role in his creative process. “We’d do mushrooms, lie down on the grass, and listen to Paul McCartney’s Ram in the sunshine,” he says. “We’d just turn the speakers into the yard.” The chocolate edibles were kept in the studio fridge, right next to the blender. “You’d hear the blender going, and think, ‘So we’re all having frozen margaritas at 10 a.m. this morning.’” He points to a corner: “This is where I was standing when we were doing mushrooms and I bit off the tip of my tongue. So I was trying to sing with all this blood gushing out of my mouth. So many fond memories, this place.”
It’s not mere rock-star debauchery — it’s emblematic of his new state of mind. You get the feeling this is why he enjoys studios so much. After so many years making One Direction albums while touring, always on the run, he finally gets to take his time and embrace the insanity of it all. “We were here for six weeks in Malibu, without going into the city,” he says. “People would bring their dogs and kids. We’d take a break to play cornhole tournaments. Family values!” But it’s also the place where he has proudly bled for his art. “Mushrooms and Blood. Now there’s an album title.”
Some of the engineers come over to catch up on gossip. Harry gestures out the window to the Pacific waves, where the occasional nude revelry might have happened, and where the occasional pair of pants got lost. “There was one night where we’d been partying a bit and ended up going down to the beach and I lost all my stuff, basically,” he says. “I lost all my clothes. I lost my wallet. Maybe a month later, somebody found my wallet and mailed it back, anonymously. I guess it just popped out of the sand. But what’s sad is, I lost my favorite mustard corduroy flares.” A moment of silence is held for the corduroy flares.
Recording in the studio today is Brockhampton, the self-proclaimed “world’s greatest boy band.” Harry says hi to all the Brockhampton guys, which takes a while since there seem to be a few dozen of them. “We’re together all the time,” one tells Harry out in the yard. “We see each other all day, every day.” He pauses. “You know how it is.”
Harry breaks into a dry grin. “Yes, I know how it is.”
One Direction made three of this century’s biggest and best pop albums in a rush — Midnight Memories, Four and Made in the A.M. Yet they cut those records on tour, ducking into the nearest studio when they had a day off. 1D were a unique mix of five different musical personalities: Harry, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik, and Liam Payne. But the pace took its toll. Malik quit in the middle of a tour, immediately after a show in Hong Kong. The band announced its hiatus in August 2015.
It’s traditional for boy-band singers, as they go solo and grow up, to renounce their pop past. Everybody remembers George Michael setting his leather jacket on fire, or Sting quitting the Police to make jazz records. This isn’t really Harry Styles’ mentality. “I know it’s the thing that always happens. When somebody gets out of a band, they go, ‘That wasn’t me. I was held back.’ But it was me. And I don’t feel like I was held back at all. It was so much fun. If I didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t have done it. It’s not like I was tied to a radiator.”
Whenever Harry mentions One Direction — never by name, always “the band” or “the band I was in” — he uses the past tense. It is my unpleasant duty to ask: Does he see 1D as over? “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think I’d ever say I’d never do it again, because I don’t feel that way. If there’s a time when we all really want to do it, that’s the only time for us to do it, because I don’t think it should be about anything else other than the fact that we’re all like, ‘Hey, this was really fun. We should do this again.’ But until that time, I feel like I’m really enjoying making music and experimenting. I enjoy making music this way too much to see myself doing a full switch, to go back and do that again. Because I also think if we went back to doing things the same way, it wouldn’t be the same, anyway.”
When the band stopped, did he take those friendships with him? “Yeah, I think so,” he says. “Definitely. Because above all else, we’re the people who went through that. We’re always going to have that, even if we’re not the closest. And the fact is, just because you’re in a band with someone doesn’t mean you have to be best friends. That’s not always how it works. Just because Fleetwood Mac fight, that doesn’t mean they’re not amazing. I think even in the disagreements, there’s always a mutual respect for each other — we did this really cool thing together, and we’ll always have that. It’s too important to me to ever be like, ‘Oh, that’s done.’ But if it happens, it will happen for the right reasons.”
If the intensity of the Harry fandom ever seems mysterious to you, there’s a live clip you might want to investigate, from the summer of 2018. Just search the phrase “Tina, she’s gay.” In San Jose, on one of the final nights of his tour, Harry spots a fan with a homemade sign: “I’m Gonna Come Out to My Parents Because of You!” He asks the fan her name (she says it’s Grace) and her mother’s name (Tina). He asks the audience for silence because he has an important announcement to make: “Tina! She’s gaaaaay!” Then he has the entire crowd say it together. Thousands of strangers start yelling “Tina, she’s gay,” and every one of them clearly means it — it’s a heavy moment, definitely not a sound you forget after you hear it. Then Harry sings “What Makes You Beautiful.” (Of course, the way things work now, the clip went viral within minutes. So did Grace’s photo of Tina giving a loving thumbs-up to her now-out teenage daughter. Grace and Tina attended Harry’s next show together.)
Harry likes to cultivate an aura of sexual ambiguity, as overt as the pink polish on his nails. He’s dated women throughout his life as a public figure, yet he has consistently refused to put any kind of label on his sexuality. On his first solo tour, he frequently waved the pride, bi, and trans flags, along with the Black Lives Matter flag. In Philly, he waved a rainbow flag he borrowed from a fan up front: “Make America Gay Again.” One of the live fan favorites: “Medicine,” a guitar jam that sounds a bit like the Grateful Dead circa Europe ’72, but with a flamboyantly pansexual hook: “The boys and girls are in/I mess around with them/And I’m OK with it.”
He’s always had a flair for flourishes like this, since the 1D days. An iconic clip from November 2014: Harry and Liam are on a U.K. chat show. The host asks the oldest boy-band fan-bait question in the book: What do they look for in a date? “Female,” Liam quips. “That’s a good trait.” Harry shrugs. “Not that important.” Liam is taken aback. The host is in shock. On tour in the U.S. that year, he wore a Michael Sam football jersey, in support of the first openly gay player drafted by an NFL team. He’s blown up previously unknown queer artists like King Princess and Muna.
What do those flags onstage mean to him? “I want to make people feel comfortable being whatever they want to be,” he says. “Maybe at a show you can have a moment of knowing that you’re not alone. I’m aware that as a white male, I don’t go through the same things as a lot of the people that come to the shows. I can’t claim that I know what it’s like, because I don’t. So I’m not trying to say, ‘I understand what it’s like.’ I’m just trying to make people feel included and seen.”
On tour, he had an End Gun Violence sticker on his guitar; he added a Black Lives Matter sticker, as well as the flag. “It’s not about me trying to champion the cause, because I’m not the person to do that,” he says. “It’s just about not ignoring it, I guess. I was a little nervous to do that because the last thing I wanted was for it to feel like I was saying, ‘Look at me! I’m the good guy!’ I didn’t want anyone who was really involved in the movement to think, ‘What the fuck do you know?’ But then when I did it, I realized people got it. Everyone in that room is on the same page and everyone knows what I stand for. I’m not saying I understand how it feels. I’m just trying to say, ‘I see you.’”
At one of his earliest solo shows, in Stockholm, he announced, “If you are black, if you are white, if you are gay, if you are straight, if you are transgender — whoever you are, whoever you want to be, I support you. I love every single one of you.” “It’s a room full of accepting people.… If you’re someone who feels like an outsider, you’re not always in a big crowd like that,” he says. “It’s not about, ‘Oh, I get what it’s like,’ because I don’t. For example, I go walking at night before bed most of the time. I was talking about that with a female friend and she said, ‘Do you feel safe doing that?’ And I do. But when I walk, I’m more aware that I feel OK to walk at night, and some of my friends wouldn’t. I’m not saying I know what it feels like to go through that. It’s just being aware.”
‘Man cannot live by coffee alone,” Harry says. “But he will give it a damn good try.” He sips his iced Americano — not his first today, or his last. He’s back behind the wheel, on a mission to yet another studio — but this time for actual work. Today it’s string overdubs. Harry is dressed in Gucci from head to toe, except for one item of clothing: a ratty Seventies rock T-shirt he proudly scavenged from a vintage shop. It says “Commander Quaalude.”
On the drive over, he puts on the jazz pianist Bill Evans — “Peace Piece,” from 1959, which is the wake-up tone on his phone. He just got into jazz during a long sojourn in Japan. He likes to find places to hide out and be anonymous: For his first album, he decamped to Jamaica. Over the past year, he spent months roaming Japan.
In February, he spent his 25th birthday sitting by himself in a Tokyo cafe, reading Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. “I love Murakami,” he says. “He’s one of my favorites. Reading didn’t really used to be my thing. I had such a short attention span. But I was dating someone who gave me some books; I felt like I had to read them because she’d think I was a dummy if I didn’t read them.”
A friend gave him Murakami’s Norwegian Wood. “It was the first book, maybe ever, where all I wanted to do all day was read this,” he says. “I had a very Murakami birthday because I ended up staying in Tokyo on my own. I had grilled fish and miso soup for breakfast, then I went to this cafe. I sat and drank tea and read for five hours.”
In the studio, he’s overseeing the string quartet. He has the engineers play T. Rex’s “Cosmic Dancer” for them, to illustrate the vibe he’s going for. You can see he enjoys being on this side of the glass, sitting at the Neve board, giving his instructions to the musicians. After a few run-throughs, he presses the intercom button to say, “Yeah, it’s pretty T. Rex. Best damn strings I ever heard.” He buzzes again to add, “And you’re all wonderful people.”
He’s curated his own weird enclave of kindred spirits to collaborate with, like producers Jeff Bhasker and Tyler Johnson. His guitarist Mitch Rowland was working at an L.A. pizza shop when Harry met him. They started writing songs for the debut; Rowland didn’t quit his job until two weeks into the sessions. One of his closest collaborators is also one of his best friends: Tom Hull, a.k.a. Kid Harpoon, a longtime cohort of Florence and the Machine. Hull is an effusive Brit with a heart-on-sleeve personality. Harry calls him “my emotional rock.” Hull calls him “Gary.”
Hull was the one who talked him into taking a course on Transcendental Meditation at David Lynch’s institute — beginning each day with 20 minutes of silence, which doesn’t always come naturally to either of them. “He’s got this wise-beyond-his-years timelessness about him,” Hull says. “That’s why he went on a whole emotional exploration with these songs.” He’s 12 years older, with a wife and kids in Scotland, and talks about Harry like an irreverent but doting big brother.
Last year, Harry was in the gossip columns dating the French model Camille Rowe; they split up last summer after a year together. “He went through this breakup that had a big impact on him,” Hull says. “I turned up on Day One in the studio, and I had these really nice slippers on. His ex-girlfriend that he was really cut up about, she gave them to me as a present — she bought slippers for my whole family. We’re still close friends with her. I thought, ‘I like these slippers. Can I wear them — is that weird?’
“So I turn up at Shangri-La the first day and literally within the first half-hour, he looks at me and says, ‘Where’d you get those slippers? They’re nice.’ I had to say, ‘Oh, um, your ex-girlfriend got them for me.’ He said, ‘Whaaaat? How could you wear those?’ He had a whole emotional journey about her, this whole relationship. But I kept saying, ‘The best way of dealing with it is to put it in these songs you’re writing.’”
True to his code of gallant discretion, Harry doesn’t say her name at any point. But he admits the songs are coming from personal heartbreak. “It’s not like I’ve ever sat and done an interview and said, ‘So I was in a relationship, and this is what happened,’” he says. “Because, for me, music is where I let that cross over. It’s the only place, strangely, where it feels right to let that cross over.”
The new songs are certainly charged with pain. “The stars didn’t align for them to be a forever thing,” Hull says. “But I told him that famous Iggy Pop quote where he says, ‘I only ever date women who are going to fuck me up, because that’s where the songs are.’ I said, ‘You’re 24, 25 years old, you’re in the eligible-bachelor category. Just date amazing women, or men, or whatever, who are going to fuck you up, and explore and have an adventure and let it affect you and write songs about it.’”
His band is full of indie rockers who’ve gotten swept up in Hurricane Harry. Before becoming his iconic drum goddess, Sarah Jones played in New Young Pony Club, a London band fondly remembered by a few dozen of us. Rowland and Jones barely knew anything about One Direction before they met Harry — the first time they heard “Story of My Life” was when he asked them to play it. Their conversation is full of references to Big Star or Guided by Voices or the Nils Lofgren guitar solo in Neil Young’s “Speakin’ Out.” This is a band full of shameless rock geeks, untainted by industry professionalism.
In the studio, while making the album, Harry kept watching a vintage Bowie clip on his phone — a late-Nineties TV interview I’d never seen. As he plays it for me, he recites along — he’s got the rap memorized. “Never play to the gallery,” Bowie advises. “Never work for other people in what you do.” For Harry, this was an inspiring pep talk — a reminder not to play it safe. As Bowie says, “If you feel safe in the area that you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you are capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.”
He got so obsessive about Joni Mitchell and her 1971 classic Blue, he went on a quest. “I was in a big Joni hole,” he says. “I kept hearing the dulcimer all over Blue. So I tracked down the lady who built Joni’s dulcimers in the Sixties.” He found her living in Culver City. “She said, ‘Come and see me,’” Hull says. “We turn up at her house and he said, ‘How do you even play a dulcimer?’ She gave us a lesson. Then she got a bongo and we were all jamming with these big Cheshire Cat grins.” She built the dulcimer Harry plays on the new album. “Joni Mitchell and Van Morrison, those are my two favorites,” he says. “Blue and Astral Weeks are just the ultimate in terms of songwriting. Melody-wise, they’re in their own lane.”
He’s always been the type to go overboard with his fanboy enthusiasms, ever since he was a kid and got his mind blown by Pulp Fiction. “I watched it when I was probably too young,” he admits. “But when I was 13, I saved up money from my paper route to buy a ‘Bad Motherfucker’ wallet. Just a stupid white kid in the English countryside with that wallet.” While in Japan, he got obsessively into Paul McCartney and Wings, especially London Town and Back to the Egg. “In Tokyo I used to go to a vinyl bar, but the bartender didn’t have Wings records. So I brought him Back to the Egg. ‘Arrow Through Me,’ that was the song I had to hear every day when I was in Japan.”
He credits meditation for helping to loosen him up. “I was such a skeptic going in,” he says. “But I think meditation has helped with worrying about the future less, and the past less. I feel like I take a lot more in—things that used to pass by me because I was always rushing around. It’s part of being more open and talking with friends. It’s not always the easiest to go in a room and say, ‘I made a mistake and it made me feel like this, and then I cried a bunch.’ But that moment where you really let yourself be in that zone of being vulnerable, you reach this feeling of openness. That’s when you feel like, ‘Oh, I’m fucking living, man.’”
After quite a few hours of recording the string quartet, a bottle of Casamigos tequila is opened. Commander Quaalude pours the drinks, then decides what the song needs now is a gaggle of nonsingers bellowing the chorus. “Muppet vocals” is how he describes it. He drags everyone in sight to crowd around the mics. Between takes, he wanders over to the piano to play Harry Nilsson’s “Gotta Get Up.” One of the choir members, creative director Molly Hawkins, is the friend who gave him the Murakami novel. “I think every man should read Norwegian Wood,” she says. “Harry’s the only man I’ve given it to who actually read it.”
It’s been a hard day’s night in the studio, but after hours, everyone heads to a dive bar on the other side of town to see Rowland play a gig. He’s sitting in with a local bar band, playing bass. Harry drives around looking for the place, taking in the sights of downtown L.A. (“Only a city as narcissistic as L.A. would have a street called Los Angeles Street,” he says.) He strolls in and leans against the bar in the back of the room. It’s an older crowd, and nobody here has any clue who he is. He’s entirely comfortable lurking incognito in a dim gin joint. After the gig, as the band toasts with PBRs, an old guy in a ball cap strolls over and gives Rowland a proud bear hug. It’s his boss from the pizza shop.
In the wee hours, Harry drives down a deserted Sunset Boulevard, his favorite time of night to explore the city streets, arguing over which is the best Steely Dan album. He insists that Can’t Buy a Thrill is better than Countdown to Ecstasy (wrongly), and seals his case by turning it up and belting “Midnight Cruiser” with truly appalling gusto. Tonight Hollywood is full of bright lights, glitzy clubs, red carpets, but the prettiest pop star in town is behind the wheel, singing along with every note of the sax solo from “Dirty Work.”
A few days later, on the other side of the world: Harry’s pad in London is lavish, yet very much a young single dude’s lair. Over here: a wall-size framed Sex Pistols album cover. Over there: a vinyl copy of Stevie Nicks’ The Other Side of the Mirror, casually resting on the floor. He’s having a cup of tea with his mum, Anne, the spitting image of her son, all grace and poise. “We’re off to the pub,” he tells her. “We’re going to talk some shop.” She smiles sweetly. “Talk some shit, probably,” says Anne.
We head off to his local, sloshing through the rain. He’s wearing a Spice World hoodie and savoring the soggy London-osity of the day. “Ah, Londres!” he says grandly. “I missed this place.” He wants to sit at a table outside, even though it’s pouring, and we chat away the afternoon over a pot of mint tea and a massive plate of fish and chips. When I ask for toast, the waitress brings out a loaf of bread roughly the size of a wheelbarrow. “Welcome to England,” Harry says.
He’s always had a fervent female fandom, and, admirably, he’s never felt a need to pretend he doesn’t love it that way. “They’re the most honest — especially if you’re talking about teenage girls, but older as well,” he says. “They have that bullshit detector. You want honest people as your audience. We’re so past that dumb outdated narrative of ‘Oh, these people are girls, so they don’t know what they’re talking about.’ They’re the ones who know what they’re talking about. They’re the people who listen obsessively. They fucking own this shit. They’re running it.”
He doesn’t have the uptightness some people have about sexual politics, or about identifying as a feminist. “I think ultimately feminism is thinking that men and women should be equal, right? People think that if you say ‘I’m a feminist,’ it means you think men should burn in hell and women should trample on their necks. No, you think women should be equal. That doesn’t feel like a crazy thing to me. I grew up with my mum and my sister — when you grow up around women, your female influence is just bigger. Of course men and women should be equal. I don’t want a lot of credit for being a feminist. It’s pretty simple. I think the ideals of feminism are pretty straightforward.”
His audience has a reputation for ferocity, and the reputation is totally justified. At last summer’s show at Madison Square Garden, the floor was wobbling during “Kiwi” — I’ve been seeing shows there since the 1980s, but I’d never seen that happen before. (The only other time? His second night.) His bandmates admit they feared for their lives, but Harry relished it. “To me, the greatest thing about the tour was that the room became the show,” he says. “It’s not just me.” He sips his tea. “I’m just a boy, standing in front of a room, asking them to bear with him.”
That evening, Fleetwood Mac take the stage in London — a sold-out homecoming gig at Wembley Stadium, the last U.K. show of their tour. Needless to say, their most devoted fan is in the house. Harry has brought a date: his mother, her first Fleetwood Mac show. He’s also with his big sister Gemma, bandmates Rowland and Jones, a couple of friends.
He’s in hyperactive-host mode, buzzing around his cozy VIP box, making sure everyone’s champagne glass is topped off at all times. As soon as the show begins, Harry’s up on his feet, singing along (“Tell me, tell me liiiiies!”) and cracking jokes. You can tell he feels free — as if his radar is telling him there aren’t snoopers or paparazzi watching. (He’s correct. This is a rare public appearance where nobody spots him and no photos leak online.) It’s family night. His friend Mick Fleetwood wilds out on the drum solo. “Imagine being that cool,” Gemma says.
Midway through the show, Harry’s demeanor suddenly changes. He gets uncharacteristically solemn and quiet, sitting down by himself and focusing intently on the stage. It’s the first time all night he’s taken a seat. He’s in a different zone than he was in a few minutes ago. But he’s seen many Fleetwood Mac shows, and he knows where they are in the set. It’s time for “Landslide.” He sits with his chin in hand, his eyes zeroing in on Stevie Nicks. As usual, she introduces her most famous song with the story of how she wrote it when she was just a lass of 27.
But Stevie has something else she wants to share. She tells the stadium crowd, “I’d like to dedicate this to my little muse, Harry Styles, who brought his mother tonight. Her name is Anne. And I think you did a really good job raising Harry, Anne. Because he’s really a gentleman, sweet and talented, and, boy, that appeals to me. So all of you, this is for you.”
As Stevie starts to sing “Landslide” — “I’ve been afraid of changing, because I built my life around youuuu” — Anne walks over to where Harry sits. She crouches down behind him, reaches her arms around him tightly. Neither of them says a word. They listen together and hold each other close to the very end of the song. Everybody in Wembley is singing along with Stevie, but these two are in a world of their own.
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Arthur & The Myth of Sisyphus
(Arthur/staircase juxtaposed to Sisyphus/rock)
As disclaimer, this may be a generalised statement/inductive analysis, not unique to his diegesis. Will probably be too verbose for some to read, but writing is organic as breathing for me and if I don’t discuss my beautiful clown husband at length, I might very well be caught with a bruised and desiccated lung lol (as you can probably tell, academia is hæmorrhaging into my casual diction)
I’m typing this, more or less, to illustrate my (possibly exhausted) perspective on how significant the staircase is to Arthur’s narrative. Specifically focusing on how it relates to Sisyphus and his eternal struggle to push a cumbersome stone uphill. (Says this all the while knowing I’ll lose said focus by the end of this, oops) That being said, this also just might be some cathartic release in the form of diluted research.
All things considered, with an economy that appears to teeter just so on the verge of instability, most, if not all, may resonate with the impending sense of futility that accompanies society’s defective concept and subsequent flawed execution of ‘adulthood’, including, but not limited to: excessive demands imposed by draconian academia, 9-5 corporate mandates exercised to excess; in addition to parenthood (if applicable). All for the sake of feeding continued survival in a universe where life is erroneously scrutinised under myopic scope of legality. Summarily, we can all embrace solidarity in our respective sharing of adversity, attended by a seemingly endless, merciless journey towards acceptance.
Arthur is my most current muse within the fictional realm (irreplaceable, to boot) so this character study might be more gratuitous than enlightening, but, in essence, I often like to conceive him as a resounding echo that’s effectively sound in giving voice to the voiceless; whispered and indistinct though it may be. However, it could be said that the power of his presence resides, not in the delicate, understated nuance of his vocal tone, but rather the elegant and passionate language of dance pronounced by his feet. Namely, the Sisyphean task of climbing that emblematic staircase.
Whether suffering a daily, if not arduous, ascent one derelict step at a time, or dancing a rhythmic descent to liberation, Arthur’s soles bespeak of a soul that’s been tormented relentlessly throughout the near 40 year span of his existence. Heels throbbing with Weltschmerz, the resulting ache of his travails would often appear as little more than a numbing nuisance to be rubbed away upon a less whimsical return as the prodigal son. In this way, the audience might compare Penny’s impact in Arthur’s life to that of the onerous stone that plagues Sisyphus. Despite being an absent force to her son’s oppressive intimacy with these formidable steps, there is something to be said for the manner in which concern is essentially a wisp in the void when her child’s health utters a silent plea, a murmured urgency, for attention.
Perhaps, we could all agree that a fraction of Artie’s extroverted anger towards Thomas was only partially misdirected. As a means to demonstrate the implied difficulty Arthur expresses for emotional release, especially so for repressed anger, it would have been interesting to witness a scenario in which he doesn’t heed Penny’s request whilst hiding behind a closed door. Given the egocentric brush that paints a broad stroke to her demeanour, would he be vindicated in raising his voice a few decibels ? If for no other reason than to dispel frustration by virtue of necessity. Of course, this isn’t to undermine the fact that Arthur displays potential signs of regressive behaviour (not exclusive to his circumstance but nevertheless germane). A hapless symptom of afflicted childhood incited by an inflamed basis of Nature v. Nurture.
With nearly all sense of identity drifting aimlessly as unanswered queries, there could be reason yet as to why Arthur adopts his Carnival and Joker personas. Beyond factors of aspiration and affinity alone. As someone (myself) who could be classified with mild alexithymia, all the while being fairly averse to labels, the concept of employing alter egos solely to assist in self-expression may not be uncommon, if not muted in translation. In a way that isn’t explicitly stated, we could infer that Arthur enforcing a purpose to evoke genuine smiles and laughter is a means to compensate for those of which he was deprived during his formative years. Speaking as an armchair psychologist, there could be evidenced an intimation of placebo effect for the presence of Pseudobulbar Affect. While this syndrome affects the nervous system and is hence more physiological than psychological, the nature of its infliction could be considered as a bridge between the two.
Certain conditions, of which remain unknown, from his childhood may have contributed to the development of this condition, emphasising a noted relation to thinking patterns. My theory is that any measure of neurosis is directly proportional to the degree of physical complications that may manifest. Arthur is a fairly sensitive man. A rough sketch of this attribute can be observed even whilst Arthur is gallivanting as Joker. In fact, one could even venture to say that his identity is actualised in this form. Cliché ? Yes. But, no less pertinent. Furthermore, a deduction might be made in which Carnival alludes to being a medium that balances the dichotomy between Arthur/Joker.
Yes, these may be points that have been proposed ad nauseam 😶 You also may be wondering: Exactly what role does Sisyphus play in this ?
Ultimately, I’ve come to the conclusion (hagiography) that Arthur, while emotionally sensitive, hardly translates that sensitivity to his visceral being. Revisiting the first bathroom scene, maybe one could see the gloomy reflections of Atlas and Sisyphus reflected in one burdened man, lost in soulful dance. Summarily, he could never strike me as one to admit defeat. To succumb to the siren’s lure of quietus. As illustrated by every Joker rendition before him, Arthur Fleck is no different in how his philosophy materialises. Blending the colours of absurdism and nihilism. While the assertion seems contradictory, considering Arthur’s initial intent to commit suicide on live television, I do believe his animus was strictly encouraged by his comedic inspiration, opposed to an active desire.
Fundamentally, this leads me to my final point (although, admittedly, this isn’t the end, I could literally talk to death about this man, and I will). The contrast of comic styles between Arthur and Murray. This might be the understated controversy of discourse, and my perspective on the matter may be unpopular, if even acknowledged, but just to clear the air, the following assumption isn’t meant to excuse him or his actions. Rather, to offer perspective. If you observe carefully, you might notice that there’s no distinct disparity between Murray and Arthur’s sense of humour. Given the era and its dogged appeals to censorship, Murray’s delivery could be regarded as nothing short of condensed and disguised. As our dear Artie reiterates, comedy is indeed subjective, but, as a matter of course, the brand that either presents isn’t particularly risible given context.
As an audience, we only know Murray on a superficial level. We know he’s a comedian. By the end of the film’s duration, we might have dismissed him as the stock bully. His humour was cruel, callow and sadistic when dispensed towards a man who deemed him a pillar of admiration. However, similar could be said for Arthur’s execution. Consistently morbid and sardonic, these elements of comedy that provoke laughter for Arthur comprise a vague semblance to Murray’s comedic anatomy, despite how patently trite and puerile the latter’s jesting was, when delivered to our undeserving victim.
Arthur was thoroughly justified in his feelings of despondency and disenchantment. Yet, objectively speaking, depending on either side of contention, one’s perception may be determined by whether or not his sensitivity was merely exaggerated when juxtaposed to a comedian who was, more or less, just doing his job; albeit questionably. Unprofessionally. We couldn’t know exactly what Murray was thinking or precisely why he invited Arthur on his show. Surely, public humiliation wasn’t his prime agenda. Curiously enough, I seemed to detect an air of indifference expressed by him when Arthur confessed (*insert delusional gif*). As if it was to be expected.
Ipso facto, with how the sequence pans out, there may have been the possibility of Murray personally investigating the subway murders and considering Arthur a suspect, consequently aiming to extract his confession (a reach, I know ! ) but, maybe not...
Not when the theory of Arthur contriving delusions, having been situated in Arkham the entire time, chimes as possible reasoning.
That, in itself, is a paradox...
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...Will we ever ?
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