#specifically after 2020 and the lockdowns. that like there's something more wrong than usual. it's lonelier and stranger and moreunpleasant

[atissi]

#had a conversation today (hi joe if you're reading) about shared cultural malaise and the sense that time is falling out from under us #specifically after 2020 and the lockdowns. that like there's something more wrong than usual. it's lonelier and stranger and moreunpleasant #if you have any thoughts on that (and not just january feeling like a weird month) feel free to let me know in the tags or replies etc. #btw this is a reminder to wear masks when you're going out. and get the latest vaccine bc they're usually available for free #like. i don't want long covid. you don't want long covid. many lovely people don't want long covid. let's all work to avoid long covid 👍 #beepbeep.txt #polls

[queenshelby]

Roommates – Part Fourteen

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,580

Warning: Fluff

Note: This plays in 2020. It’s all fiction and not based on Cillian’s real life and family.

It has been a week since Cillian found out about Laura’s lie and, as expected, it took him some time to come to terms with it. Whilst, on one hand, he was relieved that she wasn’t pregnant after all he had been through with her, he was also somewhat disappointed by it. After all, he had been looking forward to finally becoming a father after him and his ex-wife Lindsay went through IVF for many years unsuccessfully.  

Luckily for him, you knew that he was struggling and you were there to pick up the pieces and support him through this horrible initial week after he had found out.

Unfortunately for you, Laura had also since found out that you were involved with Cillian and ceased the opportunity to seek revenge which, for some reason, she still thought she was entitled to. Her friendship with most of your mutual friends had been destroyed after it was found out what she did. But this wasn’t your fault you thought. It was hers alone.

After sending you at least ten text messages, telling you how you were the most horrible person who had ever walked this earth, she informed James and most of your other friends and Cillian’s family about your relationship with Cillian in order to get them to turn on you instead of her.

As a result, James kept calling, messaging and emailing you constantly and you ran out of options on how to block him after he obtained several new phone numbers and email addresses so that he could harass you, thinking that you had been involved with Cillian for years.

As for your family and friends, you found it difficult to explain to them that there was only some truth to what Laura was saying. You tried hard to make clear to them that you were not in a relationship with Cillian and it was Cillian’s mother herself who didn’t take your and her son’s explanations serious.

‘I think my mother is set on the idea that we are together’ Cillian chuckled as he handed you the invitation to her 70th birthday which specifically mentioned you as his plus one.

‘She told me about it already. She also enquires about your wellbeing on a daily basis, darling. Apparently, you aren’t very forthcoming to her about your feelings. Luckily, her birthday not until after Christmas’ you laughed.

You had always gotten along well with Cillian’s mother since you met her almost ten years ago.

‘I am not sure if I should be more amused by the fact that my mother talks to you more often than to me or that she thinks that we will be out of lockdown by January next year’ Cillian then said, smiling before offering you a cup of tea.

‘Well, you know your mum and I get on like a house on fire, sweetheart’ you then joked before approaching Cillian and kissing him gently.

You didn’t usually kiss. Kissing was only to initiate sex which you have had plenty off over the past week even while Cillian was feeling rather depressed about what happened.

You knew that sex would get his mind of the pain Laura had caused him and you were more than willing to distract him from all the madness in his life.

In turn, sex led to you sharing a bed and, since you had sex every night and sometimes even during the day, you pretty much slept in the same room continuously for weeks on end. Sometimes you would stay in Cillian’s room while, on other nights, he would come to yours. It was almost like musical chairs.

But tonight, this was all about to change as, in the morning, you had just gotten your first period since you started being intimate with each other.

As such, you quickly apologised for the kiss you had just given him to ensure that he wouldn’t get the wrong idea about your intentions.

‘Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to initiate anything. I was just sneaking in a cheeky little kiss’ you said somewhat embarrassed as you quickly pulled away from the kiss.

‘No period sex then I suppose?’ Cillian joked, knowing very well that this was off the table for you even though he had explained to you that it wouldn’t bother him.

‘Absolutely not Cillian’ you giggled before reaching for some more of the pain killers on the kitchen counter.

‘Well, if you change your mind tonight, you know where my bedroom is’ Cillian winked and you couldn’t help but shake your head in disgust.

‘Trust me Cilly, I won’t’ you chuckled.

‘Alright then. No sex tonight. Got it’ Cillian chuckled before offering you to fill up your hot water bottle. ‘How about I fill this up for you, we have some wine, order some pizza and watch a movie?’ Cillian suggested as he took the hot water bottle from you.

‘That would be nice’ you said, smiling and wanting to kiss him again, but refraining from doing so for obvious reasons. You reminded yourself that you weren’t more than friends with benefits, regardless of the rumours out there which Laura had spread.

***

Half an hour later, you finally settled in the living room with your hot water bottle and two glasses of red wine.

Being so close to Cillian and unable to be intimate with him bothered you and you could see that it bothered him too as he tried hard to keep his hands to himself.

Occasionally, you felt his hand brush over the top of your cotton pants and then move away quickly as if he was a shy little school boy who was doing something naughty and who thought you wouldn’t notice.

It was strange, the fact that you both only ever showed affection towards each other while, before or after you were having sex. But then again, of course, it was normal considering your arrangement. You were friends and, if kissing wouldn’t turn you both on so incredibly much, you probably wouldn’t even be doing that in the bedroom.

But even just in that moment, where he was sitting next to you and was watching a movie with you, you wanted to kiss him desperately and a kiss was all you wanted.

You felt the urge to snuggle up against him and rest your head against his chest but you thought that this also would be inappropriate you restrained yourself from it for the remainder of the evening.

***

At around 10 o’clock, you finally called it a night. You were tired and exhausted and needed a good nights’ sleep.

Unfortunately for you, sleep was something you struggled with and it was when you lay in your bed for an hour, tossing and turning with your eyes wide open, that you realised what was missing.

It was the warmth which would normally radiate from Cillian’s body when you cuddled up against him and it was the scent of his skin you breathed in when laying in his arms.

Even if you couldn’t be intimate with him, you wanted to be near him, kiss him and cuddle him and feeling this way about him wasn’t something you were prepared for.

***

Little did you know that you weren’t the only one craving this kind of closeness and non-sexual intimacy. Cillian also was laying on his bed, restless and unable to sleep, realising that something was missing.

He adored the smell of your hair and the softness of your skin pressed against his. He loved spooning against you while you held his arms tight as he wrapped them around you.

He also loved the little sounds you were making in your dreams when there was clearly something pleasurable on your mind.

He soon realised that his efforts to simply fall asleep like this on his own were going to be futile and he decided to get himself another glass of water from the kitchen and settle with a book until he would be tired enough to go back to bed and try again.

***

‘Still up?’ Cillian asked as he walked into the kitchen and saw you filling up your hot water bottle again.

‘I can’t sleep’ you pouted while moving aside and allowing Cillian to fill up his glass.

‘Me neither’ Cillian then said before making a suggestion which could possibly change that.

‘Do you…uhm…want company…in bed?’ Cillian then shuddered somewhat reluctantly.

‘Cillian, I am not going to have sex with you, I told you that’ you said somewhat amused by the fact that he was still trying to convince you otherwise.

‘I didn’t mean for us to have sex Y/N’ Cillian then explained and your eyes widened immediately.

‘So, you mean just us sharing a bed to sleep?’ you asked confused, causing Cillian to nod.

‘Just to sleep and maybe kiss…if you want to’ Cillian said almost shyly.

‘Just kissing?’ you asked again, unsure about his motives.

‘Just kissing’ Cillian confirmed.

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @ @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

#cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine

[fangirlwriting-stories]

These Unprecedented Times

Summary: Thomas was currently spending most of his days stewing in his empty house in the middle of the nightmare that is 2020 and wishing he had someone to talk to.  Apparently, his brain listened to him though, or he's just finally lost it, because suddenly standing across the room is someone that looks like a half-snake version of him.

Or, In Which Thomas Is So Bad At Taking Care of Himself That He Accidentally Summons His Self-Preservation.

AO3 Link

Chapter One: Self-Interest

Thomas was running pretty dry on video ideas, and he had no idea why.  It was like all his motivation for creating had been sapping away as lockdown continued.  It was frustrating to no end, and he couldn’t seem to muster up the will to even try and fix the problem.  And with a lack of ideas in that regard, he was stuck thinking about everything that was going on, all of the disease and the death and the nightmares that this year had been bringing.  He tried to stay as up to date as possible in case something new had happened, but with that and all the thoughts already invading his head from information he already knew, he just grew more and more anxious about the world’s situation until he forced himself off of social media and tried to do something relaxing.  Unfortunately, that usually only lasted about half an hour before he started feeling guilty about not being up to date and even trying to enjoy himself with everything that was going on.

He texted and facetimed with his friends as often as he could, but most of the time he was alone, and stewing in everything by himself wasn’t that great either.  The only real person-to-person contact he got was when he went out walking, and learned to understand why dogs got so excited when they saw each other.

But he was fine!  He was lucky.  He wasn’t an essential worker, after all, and he didn’t have to risk his life to make a paycheck.  He should be grateful that he got to stay home, relatively safe, and all he had to do to have the money for groceries was to come up with ideas for videos, which he should be able to do with no problem.  He was fine.  He just needed to push through whatever this funk was and come up with an idea.

Thomas tapped his pencil against the blank notebook page and tried to force himself not to groan.

If only there was someone he could talk to.

“Thomas!”

Thomas yelped and spun towards the voice.  He was met with a bizarre half-snake man that looked remarkably like him.  Before Thomas could process the seven shades of what the fuck that was happening, the half-snake man marched across the room and yanked him up by the color.

“Thomas, you son of a— I can’t let this go on anymore,” the snake-man snapped, shaking Thomas back and forth, which Thomas didn’t really appreciate all that much.  “Do you know what I am?”

“Uh, I mean at this point I’d rather like to—” Thomas started.

“I am exhausted!  All of your efforts to convince yourself that you’re okay while there is goddamn global trauma going on are cutting into my self care time!  You’ve made me get sick of you lying to yourself.  Me!  So look me in the eyes, Sanders.  You. Are. Not. Okay.  Admit it.”

“What— I don’t— oh god.”  Thomas pushed the snake-man off and started scrambling backwards.  “Am I hallucinating?  Have I lost it?  Oh my god, what do I—”

“You’re not hallucinating,” said the snake-man.  Thomas looked back up at him to see him looking calmer and maybe just a bit sheepish.  “I probably should have done that a different way, but I don’t know how else I’m supposed to get through to you at this point—”  He sighed.  “I am a product of your mind and personality.  Though I suppose I do lack a physical form.”

“That… that just raises more questions…” Thomas said weakly.

“Absolutely none of which are important to address right now compared to what you are doing to yourself, Thomas.”

“How would you even know—”

The snake-man sighed.  “Look, I’m a… Side, of you, if you will.  Specifically, the Side meant to look out for your own interests.  Your bank account, your reputation, your self-esteem.  But instead of all of that, what I’ve been spending 24 freaking 7 doing lately is trying to tell you that everything is fine when we’re in the middle of a fucking pandemic with a president who barely acknowledges it’s a problem, which means I have to spend hours every day trying to get your Anxiety to not have a panic attack, and even that is barely working at this point!”

Thomas swallowed, trying to process all of that.  The… Side in front of him seemed to be more than willing to give him a moment to do so.  But even at the end of that, all that came out of Thomas’ mouth was, “…oh.”

The Side buried his head in his hands and gave a slightly hysterical laugh.  “‘Oh,’ he says,” he mumbled to himself.

“Wait,” Thomas said as an idea came to him.  “What do you mean, getting my Anxiety to not have a panic attack?  Don’t you mean give me a—”

“I said what I said, Sanders,” the Side said, shifting and crossing his arms.  “You think your fight or flight reflex is doing any better than I am right now?  I’m sure he’d be delighted to hear that you think so after running himself ragged trying to keep you up with the constantly changing safety measures.”

“My fight or flight?  Wait, is he that or my—”

“His role is to keep you safe,” the Side cut him off.  “Meaning he’s the part of you in charge of that particular set of responses.  His current title is Anxiety, and I think you can take a few guesses as to why.”

“His… title?  I’m sorry, this is a lot to process,” Thomas said, leaning back on the couch and rubbing at his temple.

The Side’s gaze softened.  “I’m sorry, Thomas,” he said gently.  “I don’t mean to be so intense right off the bat.  To be honest, I’m rather stressed, and I… did not expect this to happen.  Being able to speak to you was not something I ever considered would be possible.”

“Yeah, I think I’m with you there,” Thomas said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.  “I never expected to talk to a part of my personality face to face.  Are you sure I’m not hallucinating?”

“You’re not,” the Side said, looking amused.  “I believe I was summoned here because you needed me.”

“I just wanted someone to talk to,” Thomas muttered.

“That’s completely understandable,” the Side said.  He moved forward and gestured to the empty couch.  “May I sit?”

“Uh, okay,” Thomas said, shifting to face the Side as he did so.  “Can I ask some questions now?”

“We probably should slow down for a minute,” the Side said with a nod.  “What are your questions?”

“Uh…” Thomas wasn’t quite sure where to start.  He could certainly say he hadn’t expected to meet this “Side” of himself today.  He didn’t even know how this worked, or what to call this Side, or—

Oh.  Maybe that was a place to start?

“What should I call you?” Thomas asked.

“The title I would prefer is Self-Interest.”

Thomas nodded.  “Self-Interest.  Okay.  And Anxiety.  Is it just the two of you?”

“No, there are others.” Self-Interest shook his head.  “Don’t even get me started on what Intrusive Thoughts is doing to the mindscape right now.”

Thomas furrowed his brow.  “Okay, hold up.  You’re saying that all of these ‘Sides’ represent different parts of my personality?”

Self-Interest raised an eyebrow.  “I thought we clarified this already.”

“No, I mean, why are you explaining to me everything that’s going on with them?  Shouldn’t I just be talking to them directly?”

Self-Interest snorted.  “Oh, yes, you’re definitely ready for that.  You won’t even admit that you’re not okay, and you want to meet your Intrusive Thoughts.”

“Wh— why do I even have a whole side for Intrusive Thoughts?  Anxiety I can get, but—”

“It’s… complicated,” Self-Interest said.  “Technically he’s part of your Creativity, but, well, let’s just say there’s two Sides to that.  Creative thoughts you welcome, and ones you… don’t.  As much.”

“Well, can he start working on ones I want to have again?  YouTube is basically my only source of income right now, since I can’t do any auditions for shoots or plays.  If I don’t come up with an idea soon, I’ll be in trouble.”

Self-Interest blinked at him.  “You… want me to tell Intrusive Thoughts… what to do.”

“Well, yeah,” Thomas said.  Had he explained it wrong or something?

Self-Interest looked at him for another long moment.  “Sure, I’ll get right on that.  Good luck getting him away from diseases and death right now, though, that’s basically all you’ve been exposing us to lately.  Which connects back to my main point.”  Self-Interest leaned in.  “Stop trying to pretend you’re okay, and stop avoiding things that are going to actually make you feel better.”

“What…” Thomas said, not quite sure what Self-Interest was referring to.

“I get it, it’s hard to stop telling yourself you’re alright.  That’s sort of my fault.  But we’re not going to get anywhere like this.” Self-Interest paused.  “You know what, I have a better idea.  Give me that.”

Self-Interest reached over Thomas and grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table, flipping the TV on.  “Oh, are we watching the news?” Thomas asked, settling in next to him.

“Ha.  Nope.  We’re watching Disney movies.”

Thomas blinked.  “But—”

“Thomas, we both desperately need a self care day.  Watching Disney will help you, and helping you will help me.  We’re doing this.  Sit back and relax.  If you’d like, I’ll allow you to make some popcorn first.”

“Uh… I’m good,” Thomas said.  Normally he’d start feeling guilty the moment he started considering doing something just for his enjoyment with everything that was happening, but for some reason the feeling felt sort of… muted right now.  Maybe it was the fact that Self-Interest was there?

Either way, Thomas leaned back into the couch as Self-Interest started playing The Little Mermaid and relaxed for the first time in a while.  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Chapter Two

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #janus sanders #my fic

[oneweekoneband]

her Nebraska (1982)

In July I flew to Massachusetts with a plague on, and I felt that it was wrong, but my mother had begged and I’d been out of work for months. Mornings there I ran in long, uneven ovals on the same roads I’d memorized in high school. There’s no sidewalks, but the few feet of dirt between the craggy pavement and the open mouths of the fields serve all right for a single body in motion. When a truck comes up close from behind, the ground shakes, and I step away bouncingly from the street toward thigh-high yellow weeds and grass, and keep going. I was slowly picking my way back in that dirt, sweat-slick from only a plodding couple of miles in peak summer heat, and sucking the wet cotton of my mask in between my teeth on every inhale, when Taylor Swift announced she was releasing a surprise album produced by the guy from The National. Not the guy from The National, like, the voice, but the guy from The National whose photo was circulated on Twitter earlier this year as some kind of antifa super soldier, which isn’t the case, but would’ve been rad. First, I stopped dead to send some outraged, misspelled text messages, and then I ran home faster than I’d moved in years.

Tall, blonde, patrician pop star Taylor Swift is to me something like a cross-between a wife and a boogeyman. Bound we’ve been since we were really children. Time and its changes haven’t rid me of her, and what’s worse is I have never quite been able to wish they would, though I claim as much all the time. Countless hours of my one wild and precious life have been spent on endlessly analyzing the minutiae of Taylor Swift’s music, the mind that made it, the real world events which influenced it. And though all the while I have known she is only a person, and that people, while each strange and lovely in their own ways, are, in the end, mostly dull, needful in just the regular manner, the fantasy is better, the sick dream of a megalomaniac songstress, curious, thrilling, probably evil, and I choose that. I don’t know Taylor Alison Swift, born to this world in, I presume, the usual way. But my Taylor Swift? I’m a renowned expert. I’ve always eaten up stories—movies, music, celebrity news, the one my grandfather tells about falling off his bike once in Ireland as a boy and his face “cracking open like an egg”—like a starved dog. I’m obsessive about my interests, but not inclined to intense fandom, and certainly not fandom in the mode of the stan. For one, I’m too self-absorbed. But caring intensely for a famous person is falling in love with a ghost, and that’s all right—I mean, what the hell? We’re here together just dying... Let’s enjoy—but is an affair best undertaken with the knowledge that everyone alive has their own complex interiority, as unruly as your own, and that you, a stranger, are not in any real way connected to the lawless, blurry middle of that celebrity, and will never be. It’s freeing and fun to know this. I mean, these people are basically in your employ. Glamorous dollhouse dwellers. Acknowledging that uncrossable distance allows for a different, healthier closeness of pure imagination. My feelings, then, can comfortably be at once both fiercely intense and entirely silly. I am a foremost scholar in the art of the Taylor Swift who exists in my head. The real person raised in Pennsylvania I don’t know at all. I have some conjectures on the matter, and, as with all my conjectures, every hackneyed theory, each picky little opinion, I’m sure they’re perfect, brilliant, just absolutely right, but that’s still all they are. Taylor Swift, figure of the cultural imagination, is the Jodie Comer to my Sandra Oh in Killing Eve, annoying and pretty in frills, taunting me endlessly and holding us trapped together in a dance of most enchanting death. But the real Taylor Swift has favorite bed sheets and a social security number and a British boyfriend, none of which I have any desire to know about, and if I saw her at a restaurant I’d politely avert my eyes before, yes, dive-bombing the group text. There’s nobody on Earth I’d stand in line to speak to, but then I’ve been speaking to a certain figment of Taylor Swift for nearly half my life.

I went to a Taylor Swift concert the night before I moved into college in 2009. My father’s work friend, firefighter by day, near professional gambler by night, got comped tickets to the Fearless Tour stop taking place at the nearby casino, and he let me have them as a reward, mainly, for happening to be seventeen. Live in-person and performed acoustically, “Fifteen” made me cry. A few years after that, in the thick, sticky part of my first post-college summer, I wrote approximately twenty-three million words about her in these very pages.  (”Pages”) At that point, Taylor’s most recent release was 2012’s Red, and the work I produced that long ago July about Taylor and her career, writing I was fairly pleased with at the time, feels now, besides just being extremely clearly written by a twenty-one year old, strange to me for the way it favors the sweet over the sour almost uniformly. There is a wholesome kind of ardor in that writing which maybe I’ve outgrown the ability to hold. Or maybe Taylor just proceeded to spend the next half a decade plus releasing one bad single after another, and it was taste—and trespasses against taste—and not some shift in my nature which altered the tenor of our bond. I have real love for my particular image, gleaned from public statements and published art, of smart, bizarre famous woman Taylor Swift, and I admire the bulk of her output very much. I’m just no longer so inclined to fawn. This is not to say I am here to offer a Taylor Swift hate screed. I couldn’t swing it, and, anyway, I’m not a pop feminist-for-hire circa 2010. But we’re older now. Things are different. At twenty-eight, twenty-nine this month—Taylor will, also this December, turn thirty-one—I regard Taylor Swift warily, like an ex with whom you have a tentative friendship, perpetually on the brink of falling one way or the other into hatred or delight, only to wobble back the opposite direction again at the slightest provocation, but still, despite best efforts, even, I regard her all the time. 

folklore was released at midnight on July 24th 2020, but I was at a cabin in rural Vermont without Internet or cell service. I drank Bud Light seltzers with my mother while watching the eerie pandemic return of Major League Baseball, and when I got into a strange bed there I stewed, knowing there were people out in the world all over who were hearing Taylor Swift songs I never had, and that this was a fundamental wrong, a disruption in the balance of the universe. I listened to it the next morning in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot. 

And folklore is great. That’s the terrible thing. Slightly less great, maybe, than some people have insisted, tricked, I think, by just the pronounced shift in sound. But it’s great. A little gift I asked for a thousand times and was still surprised to get, like a wife who didn’t expect her henpecked husband to ever follow through and buy the paraffin wax hand bath as-see-on-TV. For years, I’ve been halfheartedly insisting that Taylor had a great album in her. I’d say it even, perhaps especially, while she stubbornly fed me gruel. Or worse, gruel with the occasional whiff of something better. With a ripe, little raspberry dropped into the slop. The bright, villainous thrill of “Getaway Car” made me believe Taylor, my Taylor, was in there somewhere under the lacquer of sequins and synth, which, while not objectionable by default, seemed a costume, and an ill-fitting one. The lived-in world of “Cornelia Street” made those old scars sting. That gay “Delicate” video. When she did “Call It What You Want” on SNL and played guitar while wearing an ugly sweater. If the abominable “ME!”, lead single off Lover, was the stick, 1989’s “Clean” was the carrot. I was Charlie Brown, and Taylor my Lucy, yanking the football back again and again. Over drinks I still yelled that Taylor Swift’s next album would be, “her Nebraska”, referring to my favorite Bruce Springsteen record, and learned to live with that egg on my face for good. I suppose I even came to like it. There was something inherently funny in taking up, like, “blind faith in the as of yet untapped greater artistic potential of massively wealthy and popular singer Taylor Swift” as my totally inane personal cause du jour, and eventually it was a bit, a gag I performed to be obstinate and didactic, but way down somewhere awful near my kidneys I meant it the whole while. And then she did it. A pandemic befell the world and amid a sea of human suffering Taylor Swift remembered she can write. She wrote, and with a massive, crucial assist from Aaron Dessner, whose music on this record is sometimes so beautiful it actually angers me, as the last thing I needed in already perilous times was to be made to try and marry my uniquely perverse emotional responses to beloved divorced dad band The National and fucking Taylor Swift,  she made an album which, if not her Nebraska, per se (I’ve come to realize that a major part of believing Taylor Swift will one day make an album I find as quietly devastating and gorgeous as Nebraska is knowing that no album will ever actually be Her Nebraska... That each will, rather, to me, be more and more evidence that it’s coming still, more proof that the limit is untouched, on and on ad infinitum, or at least until the seas take us into a place of salty peace.) is a shocking credit to all my hard-fought and deluded confidence. folklore is great. This fact has made me feel almost equally as disoriented from my understanding of the world as the time-melting COVID-19 lockdowns have, and it turned my Spotify year in review annual collective AI humiliation kink thing into a glaring indictment of my mental state, but still, I mean... It’s great.

In talking about folklore a bit this week, there are a number of specific topics I intend to cover—what a thrill it is to hear Taylor say “fuck”; Taylor’s terrifying birth chart; the astoundingly perfect bridge of “the last great american dynasty”; “because my ass is located at the back of my body”; the bit in last year’s “Lover” where deranged WASP Taylor Swift implies that to “leave the Christmas lights up til January” is some signifier of being a love-struck bohemian, when actually everyone who doesn’t employ domestic staff to take their lights down does this; how reputation is the best of the Taylor Swift records released in the latter half of the 2010s, actually, and the people who can’t see that are cowards—but intend mostly to let the muse move me where she will. Against the advice of my better angels, she—that tie-in marketing eldritch terror—always does.

#taylor swift #folklore

[daprec]

BJJ Floating Mat System DIY Walkthrough

I’m going to share the process of building a floating mat system, from design to sourcing materials and build. I figured I try to take out as much guess work since I had no guidance and had to learn on my own. There were several pieces of the puzzle that came as some small surprises, but hopefully this helps the next person who decided to make the leap to a better mat system. I’m unsure of the process for other countries, but in my case I will detail the process for importing goods into New Zealand – it may differ in other places. I’ll include links to the factory for all the specific mats I ordered in the post.

Towards the end of Sept 2020, just after the Covid-19 lockdown ended in New Zealand, I had an opportunity to expand my BJJ club and sub-lease space in our existing gym we ran out of. I had an elaborate vision of a floating mat system underneath some juicy dollamur mats for use to train in.

I was introduced to the floating mat system years ago when I lived in Los Angeles on a visit to Kron Gracie’s academy in Culver City. I had worked down the street and wanted to congratulate him and have a look around. My friend Ollie Barre worked there and he showed me around, even Kron said hello and mentioned the spring loaded floating mat system to me.

It was about 1/2 a meter high with actual springs under the floor with plywood on top and tatame on top of the ply. It was amazing!

Image courtesy of Kron Gracie Academy Linkedin page

I knew that’s what I wanted but I didn’t have the budget for springs, so I explored other options. After a few searches I came across a couple videos:

How to build the ultimate spring subfloor for your Judo, Jujitsu and Wrestling mats

&

How to build a Bjj subfloor

Foam and ply – sweet I can do that! Let’s measure the space:

9.7m x 4m – pretty decent space!

After the measurement I needed to visualize the build. I knew I had to see it and make something for others to see the vision I had, so I modeled everything out in Maya and made a 3D render:

Concept render

I used real world units to keep everything to spec, that means the units I use in the 3D application are accurate to and equal to the units I would use on the actual build. The sub-floor would be the most difficult thing to explain to a builder, so I did a couple renders of what the underbelly would look like:

14 sheets of plywood with sub-floor foam block layout

Single sheet plywood foam block layout

I began compiling a list of materials I would need:

15 sheets of 2440mm x 1200mm x 12mm non-structural plywood

6 sheets of closed cell polyethylene foam

tons of liquid nail

timber for boxing in – unsure of spec at that time

5cm thick floor mats, tatame finish

21 wall mats @ 183cm x 122cm x 5cm

Living in New Zealand is awesome BUT sourcing some of these materials was going to be difficult and super expensive. I started calling around and emailing different foam companies and dollamur reps. I was getting quotes just for the dollamur mats of $5-6k NZD alone! I found a company that imports foam and was quoted $500/sheet of PE foam! I didn’t even bother looking at the wall mats – it would have cost me closer to 10K to get everything from NZ companies, so I decided to cut out the middle man and source materials myself.

Of course this lead me to Alibaba.com – the Chinese based website that gives people like myself access to factories where these things are typically made. After a few days of searching and multiple emails, I found a factory – Quindao Sanhong Plastic Co, LTD – that appeared to manufacture everything I needed – floor mats, wall mats and PE foam sheets.

It was my 1st time using Alibaba and to be honest I was SUPER dubious. I would be dealing with people outside of the country I lived in which carries a larger sense of the unknown.

I ended up chatting with a service person named Emily. She was incredibly helpful and thorough and made sure she understood what I required. I sent her an absurd amount of photos, videos, all of my renderings of what I had in mind, the measurements and other specs. She talked me into getting a more dense mat (40kg/cbm – a new unit of measurement I was completely unfamiliar with) for both the floor mats and sub-floor mats.

Originally I intended to have that pool noodle type foam, but Emily urged me not to go that route and go for something thicker – the cost was negligible so I went for it. Trusting someone you’ve never met overseas was hard, but I figured I needed to roll the dice.

The floor mat specs I went with were 3 rolls of 9.7m x 1.33m x 5cm with a tatame finish

Link to mats here

Floor mats

Next were the wall mats. I needed 21 wall mats @ 183cm x 122cm x 5cm Link to mats here

Wall mats

Next was the closed cell sub-floor PE foam. Quindao made 2m x 1m sheets of this stuff, and I needed 6 sheets total to accommodate my space. These were roughly $40USD / sheet so if I got it wrong I figured it wouldn’t be TOO much of a loss. Link to foam sheets here

This is the pool noodle foam I was expecting, but not what I ended up receiving

Emily was very patient and understand of my reservations in dealing with an overseas factory. After a few more emails and messages I pulled the trigger and made the order. At this stage Emily walked me through the process and gave me a general idea of several unknown import costs. Her estimate on the NZ import tax was very close, but she did inform me there would be other costs she had no way of providing an estimate for.

I forgot to mention that a couple months prior to ordering I had already setup a legit business in anticipation of building my dream in the future. Emily had requested an NZ Import ID so fortunately I was already qualified to apply for a NZ business import ID through NZ Customs. This cost me about $200 to register my business and get an import ID.

After providing all of my information, she came back with a total cost and import tax estimate I would pay on arrival. Freight costs from China to NZ were SUPER cheap – about $80NZD to ship 700kg worth of stuff, so that was fine.

I paid the deposit so the manufacturing could get under way. Once they were finished making all of the mats/materials I would then pay in full prior to loading onto the ship. It took them about 4 weeks to finish everything. At that time there was one final check through that they had all of my correct information and import ID and that was that. The order started on 11/02/2020 and was shipped on 12/08/2020

Because of Covid, there were huge delays with international shipping and unloading, so the wait time was longer than usual. It was supposed to take 40 days but ended up being much longer than that. The mats arrived in NZ the 1st week of February 2021 – phew at least they made it safe!

This is where a lot of the surprises and unknowns came into play. I received an email from some guy at a freight company saying my mats had arrived and I needed to send all of the arrival documents to my broker

Evidently I had to obtain an import broker to forward all of the documents to, which no one makes any mention of. But here’s where things get a little…rackety. I ended up going with EasyFreight brokers who charged me about $200 for their services. They emailed documents from NZ Customs where I then had to pay around $500NZD for the Import Tax.

Once the Import Tax was paid, my mats could then be released BUT…the mysterious freight company who initially emailed me now says I need to pay them $1900NZD before they ship my mats to Wellington. This fee was for unloading the mats from the ship and onto the dock and storing them in a warehouse until all of the documents cleared. This almost doubled the cost of the mats I ordered and by now the total cost was getting close to what I was getting quotes from NZ based companies.

I paid the invoice and they put my mats onto a truck to be shipped down to Wellington to ANOTHER freight company – not directly to me for whatever dumb reason. I contacted the new freight company, had a bit of confusion and back and forth but eventually I ended up having to pay them another $250NZD to ship my mats to the gym. What a racketeering outfit huh?

They delivered the mats and I immediately started ripping up the packaging to have a look at my new goods. I have to say that what I purchased exceeded my expectations. The floor mats where BETTER than what I expected, the wall mats were BETTER than what I anticipated and the sub-floor foam ended up being more closer to memory foam than pool noodle foam. Holy hell we’re gonna have some sweet mats to roll on!

To the build!

After a trip to Bunnings to pickup timber, liquid nail and a few other things, that tallied up to over $1000NZD we were on our way.

The 1st order of business was to cut the foam sheets into blocks. I had originally calculated 7cm x 10cm x 10 cm but when we laid everything out, we’d only be using 2 sheets of foam and would have had to cut relatively tiny blocks. So instead we went with 20cm x 20cm x 10cm blocks – much easier to cut and deal with and even then we had a ton left over (which we made use of by the end of it.

Foam blocks

I worked out the numbers and we did 3 x 5 rows of blocks per plywood sheet

1st row of 8 pieces of 2440mm x 1200mm x 12mm plywood with 15 foam blocks liquid nailed to ply

We had all of the blocks glued to the ply and realized we had HEAPS left over, so we decided to re-jig some things around and use the extra blocks in the spaces inbetween sheets of ply on the seams and corners. This ended up adding an extra level of stability between the ply and would be less likely to damage the mats on top.

Using extra blocks underneath ply seams

Once all the plywood was laid out and the liquid nail given a bit of time to cure, we had to then box everything in to prevent sliding. This required a concrete drill/concrete bit, about 10 dynabolts (basically concrete bolts with anchors), some timber 2 x 4s, more liquid nail and a bit of good old fashioned elbow grease.

We made a mess!

The guys marked where the holes needed to be drilled roughly 1 1/2 meters apart. After the holes were drilled and swept, we laid down a very long 2×4 that was already predrilled with the initial concrete hole drilling. A dynabolt was hammered into the hole as far as it could, then racheted down with a socket wrench to tighten. The 1st piece of timber would be the foundation the other boxing in pieces would be anchored to.

The farside wall was crooked so that meant our sheets were slightly offset on the outside edge. As long as the surrounding box was square, the top layer mats would hide the crooked ply and we’d be fine.

Timber posts are rather expensive in NZ and usually crooked, so we ended up gluing and screwing 2 2×4 together so that 1. they cost less and 2. we could straighten them much easier.

Boxing in almost complete

To secure the 2x4s to the base we used nails and several Stud to Bottom galvanized fixings. We needed to make sure there would be absolutely no flex with the box.

To have a nicer finish, we added a thin layer of finger jointed pine on top of the 2x4s secured with finishing nails. The grain and look of it is much more eye pleasing than the sides of 2x4s and I can stain or paint it later.

Finishing touches on the sub-floor box

We left about a 3cm lip around the box so when the mats sit on top of the ply, the outer frame would contain and lock in the mats from sliding. The mats came very well packaged in three 1.3m x 9.7m x 5cm rolls

1 of 3 mat rolls

We placed extra ply against the walls to create a wedge/spacing for the wall mats. Upon rolling out the 1st roll we realized the wall was not straight…at all, but we made it work. 1st mat down!

The middle roll was relatively easy to to setup and the velcro attachment worked out perfectly.

That tatame finish texture is looking nice!

The final row did prove to be a bit more challenging but we eventually squeezed it into the remaining space. We can do math!!

After a full day of work we got the mats installed. We started at 11am, did a Bunnings run to collect tubes of liquid nail, screws, etc, got to the gym at around 12:30pm and finished just after 1am.

The following weekend we mounted the wall mats which were relatively straight forward. We ran 2 rows of 5m x 18mm pine planks along the wall, one at the top of the wall mats and one mid mat for support. I forgot to take pics but we basically created a support system and something to drill into instead of thick firewall jib.

We finished in the evening, cleaned up and of course we had a roll!

Some after thoughts

I can’t tell you how happy I am with this setup. Having an extra 10cm of foam under the sub floor has made a HUGE difference. It only took about 3 weeks to break in the harshness of new mats, and the tatame finish has been amazing. They aren’t slippery at all and are like heaven to roll on. One thing I would have done, which I most likely will do soon is to place 1 screw into each foam block under the sub floor.

What happens is the vibrations of people moving on the mats will cause the foam blocks to shift if they liquid nail didn’t stick. Not a big deal as we can simply lift the mats/play and move the foam, but that’s the only thing I would have done. Everything else worked out perfectly and I could not be more happy.

I hope this helps anyone who is interested in building something like this. There are a LOT of unknowns that go into importing goods from overseas, but I covered all of the “gotcha” moments along the way. Also I can with full confidence say that Quindao Plastics manufacture high spec and high quality mats/foam. They exceeded my expectations, so you can purchase with confidence. I knew nothing about them, only went by their Trade Assurance certification rating on Alibaba, but who the hell knows what that means? I’m thrilled I rolled the dice – they nailed it!

Reach out if you have any questions

Oss!

BJJ Floating Mat System DIY Walkthrough was originally published on davepreciado

#BJJ #bjj floating mat #bjj tatame #bjj4life #bjjgirls #bjjlife #bjjlifestyle #combatroombjj #dave preciado bjj #dollamur #fight club #jiu jitsu #jiu jitsu times #judo tatame #k-guard bjj #miramar #mma #tatame #UFC #Weta Digital

[kassamigos]

Date:  Sunday, April 26 2020

Time:  Approx. 18:30 

Location:  Sutton family’s apartment annex 

TL;DR  ( because this got unnecessarily long, per usual ) :   Kass makes up with Mama Sutton and finds out the truth about her dad, yay !

IT’S BEEN TWO WEEKS AND SIX DAYS SINCE KASS HAS TALKED TO HER MOTHER.  for some mother-daughter relationships, that may not be very long.  claire hadn’t talked to her mother for YEARS, and she had a feeling grayson and his own mother didn’t exactly talk daily.  but the sutton family had always been different ;   they were a small family, like val had pointed out days ago, and losing the patriarch of the family years ago had changed its dynamic forever.  they were close with one another, and above all, they had a policy of HONESTY with one another.  sure, there were some pieces of information laura sutton couldn’t provide her daughters with, especially as they became her pupils on top of everything else, but those instances happened so infrequently that kass and val knew to trust that when she said something was classified, it was good a good reason.

but two weeks and six days have gone by, and kass still can’t wrap her head around what the good reason could’ve been to make her mom lie about her father.

she had planned on approaching her mother earlier in the week.  being lectured by her younger sister nearly a week ago now had been MORTIFYING, but it did bring a sense of reality back to her life.  kass had always felt like the glue that needed to hold the family together, especially when her father had passed, and she had to look after val while their mother got used to her new position as president of gallagher academy.  but she hadn’t realized her sister still relied on her so much until val was quick to point out how kass hadn’t been there for her in her time of need, when they were BOTH going through the same issues.  she’d been so busy trying to ignore more drama in her life, she hadn’t stopped to think that maybe ignoring it wasn’t how to make it go away.

so yeah, it had taken val chastising her and some much needed advice  ( and a reunion )  from claire to finally gather the courage to talk to her mom.  she had considered texting val and asking if they wanted to do this together, but quickly decided against it.  if val was there, kass would be worried the entire time about HER feelings, so much so that she may hold back some of her own.  and kass is tired of holding back how she feels, especially to those who matter most.

cecil’s attack on more students and being taken into gallagher academy’s custody did, unfortunately, make it harder to get into contact with her mother. kass waits for the dust to settle before reaching out, but by the time sunday morning rolls along she realizes nearly a week has gone by since she decided to talk to her.  so before she can think twice about it, kass texts her mom and asks if she can come over for sunday dinner. laura sutton doesn’t even attempt to play coy, replying instantly.

sunday night dinners have been a tradition in the sutton family for years.  when kass and val were no longer young enough to need constant supervision, their mother had started spending more hours in her office -- therefore most evening dinners were classified as  ‘ fend for youself night. ‘   ( twelve year-old kass had become REALLY good at making mac and cheese. )   sunday night dinners became their way of making sure there was at least one night a week the three of them could sit down together as a family.  they’ve changed over the years ;   kass still remembers skyping into them during her first month at boarding school, and how quiet it had felt during her freshman year at gallagher, when val was still away at prep school.  now with the three of them under the same roof again, this year had been the first since kass was fourteen that family dinners were COMPLETE once more.

of course she knows val isn’t coming, but seeing only two place settings at the kitchen table brings back memories of this time last year, before her sister was enrolled at gallagher.   “ HI, HONEY. “  laura sutton’s voice is a lot more chipper than kass expects, considering it’s been almost three weeks since they’ve seen each other.  she’s leaning over dinner on the stove, which is never a good sign. kass’ mom has a lot of amazing qualities, but cooking isn’t one of them.  she must really be bringing out the big guns.   “ dinner will be ready in just five minutes.  how does stroganoff sound ? “ 

yep, the big guns.   “ sounds great, mom.  thanks. “   

the food is surprisingly good, which leads her to believe laura had someone from the kitchen staff cook for them earlier in the day, because there’s no way she did anything more than reheat it.  kass counts the minutes of silence that passes between them.  after twelve minutes, she’s the one to finally break.   “ when were you going to tell us about dad ? “   she drops her fork in her bowl, leaning back to look at her mother.  there’s no use beating around the bush ;   they both know why she’s there.

her mom only sighs, her gaze setting on the noodle twirling around her fork.  “ your father didn’t want you to know he was in this business, “   laura starts, bringing her napkin up to her mouth.   “ it was a choice we had decided early on, for a sense of normalcy for you girls.  i didn’t want to go against that. “ 

“ that’s not fair--- “   she starts, but is silenced with a small raise of her mother’s hand. 

“ PLEASE, kassandra.  i know you have questions, and i’m sorry you had to hear about it with the rest of the school.  but can you...  just listen first ? “     there’s so many things kass wants to say, but she reminds herself that she’s come hear specifically for ANSWERS.  so she nods mutely, giving her mother the floor.

laura sutton takes a deep breath, and for a moment kass can see how tired she truly is.  she knows this semester can’t be easy for her mother -- in a way it doesn’t matter who is murdering students, because no matter what it’s seen as a reflection on laura’s skills as a school president.  kass also remembers how her mom had barely left her office the entire week following the death of amelia and the lockdown. she had tried to cancel sunday dinner, but kass and val had brought dinner to her.  if there’s anything that gives kass peace of mind about being around for this god-awful semester, it’s that at least her and val are there to make sure someone’s taking care of the woman trying to take care of everyone else.

so the fact that they’ve both been ignoring her for so long, during some of the hardest weeks at gallagher to date...  well, it’s hard not to feel a little guilty about that.

“ as i’m sure you guessed by now, your father went to blackthorne, “   laura begins, and kass can immediately tell this isn’t an EASY conversation for her from the way her mom’s voice wavers ever-so-slightly.  her mother’s performed sting operations in foreign countries without batting an eye   ( or so she thinks -- it’s classified ) ,  but it’s the topic of kass’ dad that makes her falter.   “ it’s where we met, at a gala between blackthorne and gallagher.  he was a fourth year when i was a second. “  kass watches as a faraway smile forms on her mother’s face, a rare smile that’s only reserved for talk about her father.   “ he was a good man, kass.  i don’t want you to second guess anything about him because of what an email told you.  he loved you and your sister very much -- he just wanted you to have options outside of spy world.

“ the email wasn’t wrong.  he was in the brotherhood. “   kass feels her heart constrict at her mom’s words, because even though she knows facts don’t lie, she had been REALLY hoping they would.   “ blackthorne had been different back then.  honestly, i was surprised they even closed it last spring, because it wasn’t nearly as bad as when your father had went. it was more than just a poor living spaces -- the faculty really was terrible.  part of the reason i had taken this job to begin with was to make sure gallagher never became as bad as blackthorne had been. “   there’s a pregnant pause, and kass knows they’re thinking the same thing :   how cecil had technically been faculty when he killed two students this semester.  kass shifts nervously in her seat. 

“ blackthorne had a lot of unhappy graduates around that time, so it made sense that there were so many brotherhood members.  nobody who joined really knew how SERIOUS it was. “   the sutton girl feels her eyebrows push together, wondering why her mom suddenly sounds like a brotherhood apologist.   “ your father had only been nineteen when he joined, but by the time he realized how radical they were, it was too late.  they weren’t an organization you can walk away from. 

“ but he TRIED, kass. “   her mother leans forward in her seat, holding her hand out to reach for her daughter.  kass rests her arm on the table and lets their hands entwine together.   “ first for me, and then for you and val.  he eventually quit his agency job and worked as an accountant -- that hadn’t been a lie.  but the brotherhood wouldn’t let him leave.  so he...  worked with my agency and i, as a double agent to help take down the brotherhood.  it was with the help of him and a few others on the inside that the brotherhood was disbanded years ago. “   laura pauses, knowing this must be a lot of information to take in at once.  and IT IS -- kass feels her head buzzing and mind fogging, similar to the feeling she had when she had read her father’s name on the email three weeks ago.  it all just seems... a little too good to be true ? 

it’s the squeeze of her mother’s hand that brings her back to reality, along with her soothing tone.   “ he also...  didn’t die in a car crash, “   laura sutton says after a moment, and suddenly every inch of kass’ skin feels hot and cold at the same time.   “ even with most of the organization killed or behind bars, he wasn’t safe. they were still able to... “   she can’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t need to.  hot tears begin to fall down kass’ cheeks, a hand clamping over her mouth.  she doesn’t remember being eight years old and finding out her father isn’t returning home, but somehow, kass feels like she’s lost him all over again.

“ why didn’t you tell me ?  tell us ? “   she says when she finds her voice again, tone HARDER than she means it to be.  kass instantly feels bad seeing her mother wince.   “ as soon as you knew this was the brotherhood, you should’ve known this would come out. “ 

it takes awhile for her mom to answer, and kass uses this time to break away from her mother’s hold and take a much needed gulp of water.  when her gaze finds her again, she sees her mom’s crying.   “ i’m sorry you had to find out this way, “   laura whispers, and now they’re BOTH crying all over again.   “ i had intended to tell you girls, but none of it had been confirmed until valentine’s day.  and then the lockdown had happened, and you lost your friend, and... the timing just wasn’t great. “  she hesitates for a moment, before adding,   “ and i suppose i was scared to, as well.  i didn’t want you thinking any less of your father.  he died a HERO, kass.  he did everything for us. “

the stroganoff sitting on the table is getting cold, but neither of the sutton women care.  later that evening they’ll watch a movie together, catch up on the past three weeks they’ve missed, and kass will text her sister telling her to call mom.  but for now she settles on her mother’s lap -- something she hasn’t done since she was a little girl -- and the two cling to each other, the way kass knows family is meant to.

#this is hella rambly but honestly so is my writing always so at least its on brand! #kassandra ; self para

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 6, Number 5

Courtney Marie Andrews

The lockdown continues, and live music has disappeared, replaced by a somewhat antiseptic and unsatisfying spate of live streamed shows mostly one person with a guitar on the couch in their living room.  We salute the courage and the effort but miss bands and audiences and even the chatter drifting in from the bar area.  In the meantime, at least for now, there are still lots of new records vying for our attention.  We present this Dust to catch up with some of them.  It’s an ecletic survey of contemporary classical, vengeful hip hop, psyche, jazz, folk and metal artists, all continuing to try to navigate a very difficult period.  Our writers this time include many of the usual suspects, Bill Meyer, Ray Garraty, Jonathan Shaw, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Jennifer Kelly, Tobias Carroll and Patrick Masterson.  

a•pe•ri•od•ic—For (New Focus Recordings)

for a•pe•ri•od•ic by a•pe•ri•od•ic

Silence is a rhythm, too, and a•pe•ri•od•ic dances to it repeatedly throughout their second recording. The Chicago-based ensemble has traversed the new music continuum, performing music by composers from Peter Ablinger to Christian Wolff. Sometimes that silence isn’t quite what you want to hear — the COVID-19 pandemic cut short its tenth anniversary spring season one concert too soon — but it proves to be rich loam from which to grow music on this CD. All four of its pieces were composed specifically for the group by individuals who recognize the merit of non-imposing sounds. That knowledge derives in part from the fact that three of the composers also perform with the group, but also from their long-standing engagement with post-Cage-ian and Wandelweiser material. Director and pianist Nomi Epstein’s descriptively entitled “Combine, Juxtapose, Delayed Overlap” feels like a ceremony intermittently perceived through an opening and closing door. Billie Howard’s “Roll” tucks the composer’s whispering violin behind muted French horn and voice, wringing intensity from the effort one must apply to following its retreating sonorities. Vocalist Kenn Klumpf’s “Triadic Expansions (2)” moves in the other direction, sprouting ivy-like from the slenderest branches of sound. By comparison, Michael Pisaro’s stately “festhalten/loslassen” is a veritable riot of unwinding tonal colors. As the decade ticks towards year eleven, rest assured that a•pe•ri•od•ic is searching for the next promising idea.

Bill Meyer

 Agallah — Fuck You The Album (Propain Campain)

Fuck You The Album by Agallah

This is a personal vendetta album. After more than 25 years in the game, Agallah has got to settle the score against the whole world. To say he just has a chip on his shoulder would an understatement. Thirteen songs of pure hate with the title quite properly reflecting its content. In his fight, the rapper strips down all the artistry, including the production. Known for making beats for other hip hop acts, Agallah here not only uses barely serviceable beats, he doesn’t even makes pretense he needs beats. Almost all the tracks work as a capellas. His gruffy voice and arrogant flow don’t need sonic support. And what support can you expect from the world full of phonies, liars, actors, pretenders, cowards and fair weather friends? “Stop pretending, my career is not ending,” he almost screams on “Telling Lies To Me.” If this CD feels like a dinosaur in 2020, then it says that it is not something wrong with this album but with the world.

Ray Garraty

 Courtney Marie Andrews — “Burlap String” single (Fat Possum)

Old Flowers by Courtney Marie Andrews

As the eponymous song of 2018’s May Your Kindness Remain amply demonstrated, Courtney Marie Andrews’ pipes are not to be fucked with. But while that was perhaps the most vivid depiction yet of her abilities, the Phoenix native’s delivery can be just as powerful on a muzzle. Such has been her approach thus far with what we’ve heard from Old Flowers, originally slated for an early June release but since pushed back to July (or beyond, who knows). The post-breakup lyrical territory was initially revealed with first single “If I Told,” but it’s the gently loping “Burlap String” I’ve had on repeat for much of the past month. Ever ended a relationship with someone and regretted it? Lush piano and a sighing slide guitar tell you Courtney has without her ever having to utter a word, and much of the song is an illustration of the internal conflict that lingers long after you’ve made the call. I’m inclined to write out the whole second verse here, but it’s the end of the third that lingers as Andrews evokes barely holding back tears: There’s no replacing someone like you. That ensuing pause runs bone-deep, its implication clear — no amount of Mary Oliver can save you from yourself.

Patrick Masterson

 Dennis Callaci — The Dead of the Day (Shrimper Records)

Some albums could be said to hum. In the case of the latest from Dennis Callaci, that’s meant literally: many of the songs on his new album The Dead of the Day feature warm clouds of feedback or droning organ notes. It’s a companion piece to his recent book 100 Cassettes, which features thoughts on musical icons throughout the year. This album’s focus is more insular: some of the songs have a drifting, improvised feel to them. But Callaci also taps into some terrifically subdued songwriting veins here — “Broadway Blues Pt. II” recalls the haunted dub-folk of Souled American, and Franklin Bruno’s piano lends a propulsive dimension to the ruminative title track. And on “Scoreless,” Callaci teams with his Refrigerator bandmate (and brother) Allen Callaci for a song that slowly builds from acoustic foundations to something modestly grandiose. Contrary to what its title might suggest, this album feels very much like a document of one man’s life.  

Tobias Carroll

 Cameron / Carter / Håker Flaten — Tau Ceti (Astral Spirits)

Tau Ceti by Cameron / Carter / Håker Flaten

Tau Ceti is a planet that is hypothesized to be similar enough to Earth that it could potentially support similar life forms. The three musicians that recorded this tape may come not come from the same system, but they fall into a harmonious orbit around a common circumstance — they were all in the same swanky studio, Halversonics, on a particular winter day in early 2019. One supposes that whatever they were rotating, they move towards the source of heat, since Tau Ceti builds slowly from chill acoustic exploration to a fuzzed-out solar flare. As they progress, abstraction burns away and velocity increases. It’s a gas to hear Ingebrigt Håker Flaten and Lisa Cameron lock in behind Tom Carter’s increasingly gritty sound-bursts.

Bill Meyer  

 Tim Daisy — Sereno (Relay)

Tim Daisy - Sereno :: music for marimba, turntables and percussion (relay 028) by Tim Daisy

Sometimes the timing of even the most tuned-in drummer is foiled by external circumstances. Sereno was supposed to signal the end of an intense phase of solo practice by Tim Daisy. His intentions for 2020 included making an album of duets and writing music for two ensembles. But at press time he, like everyone else, is hunkered down with his family, and everything he had planned is on hold.  

Daisy’s stint as a primarily solo artist coincided with a reconsideration of identity; he wasn’t just a drummer, but a multi-instrumentalist and an orchestrator of electro-acoustic sound. Sereno is split between three elegiac marimba solos that showcase Daisy’s instinct for deliberate melodic development and five much denser constructions for imprecisely tuned radios, playing and skipping records, and Daisy’s strategically reflective drumming. If this record is the only new music that Daisy puts out this year, it leaves us with plenty to think about.

Bill Meyer

  Kaja Draksler & Terrie Ex — The Swim (Terp)

On the surface, this looks like quite the odd couple. Terrie Ex Is a Dutch electric guitarist in his mid-60s who still goes by his punk rock name. He’s a ferocious improviser whose scrabbling instrumental attack incurs intensity from any ensemble that doesn’t want to get bowled over, and he knows more Ethiopian tunes by heart than anyone on your block. Kaja Draksler is a Slovenian pianist exactly half his age whose recent projects include a fast-paced, idiosyncratically balanced trio with Petter Eldh and Christian Lillinger, and an octet for which she sets Robert Frost poems to a combination of chanson, Baroque chamber music, and thorny free improvisation. But neither got where they are by letting fear deter them from a musical challenge, and both of them have a fine awareness that one way of understanding their respective instruments is that they are pieces of wood with wires attached. Given that common understanding of music as a combination of coexisting textures and assertive actions, they work together quite well on this CD, which documents a performance that took place at London’s Café Oto in 2018. Scrape meets sigh, jagged fish-hook pluck meets sparse wire-damped drizzle, instinct meets intuition, and when the disc is done, it’ll seem quite sensible to dive back in and swim the whole length in reverse.

Bill Meyer  

 Errant — S/T EP (Manatee Rampage Recordings)

errant by errant

Errant is the one-woman project of Rae Amitay. Some listeners of metal music may be familiar with Amitay’s work, as vocalist for death-grind-hybridists Immortal Bird and as drummer for the folk-metal act Thrawsunblat. For Errant, Amitay has created songs and sounds that have little in common with those other bands’ aesthetic extremities. “The Amorphic Burden” may prompt you to recall the melodic black metal that Ludicra was making toward the end of that band’s storied run, or the sludgy drama of Agrimonia’s most recent record. In any case, Errant’s sound skews toward more luminescent atmospheres. Production values are largely pristine; Amitay wants you to hear clearly every string and cymbal strike. It makes sense. She plays a bunch of instruments well, and that’s part of the point: that one woman is producing all the sounds, and all the affect. She ends the EP with a cover of Failure’s “Saturday Savior,” and it’s the least interesting thing on the record. But even there, she presents the listener with something worth hearing. Her clean vocals are lovely, disarmingly so. What may be most impressive about this early iteration of Errant is the extent of Amitay’s talents, and how those talents allow her to encroach on the hyper-masculine territory of the “one-man” act.

Jonathan Shaw  

 Field Works — Ultrasonic (Temporary Residence)

Ultrasonic by Field Works

Stuart Hyatt’s latest compilation in the Field Works series is an absolute beauty — and timely given it’s being released during a pandemic whose origins may be linked to bats. The field recordings that the contributors used to create the music on Ultrasonic come from the echolocation of bats, and the approaches tend towards rhythmic or atmospheric. At the rhythmic end of the spectrum we have Eluvium’s majestic opener “Dusk Tempi,” akin to his work on Talk Amongst the Trees. Mary Lattimore’s glimmering harp patterns are fitting accompaniment to the chittering bat sounds on “Silver Secrets.” And Kelly Moran’s prepared piano on “Sodalis” sends the listener down a hall of mirrors, chased by gorgeous bass tones. At the more abstract, atmospheric end of the spectrum we have Jefre Cantu-Ledesma’s radiant “Night Swimming.” Christina Vantzou blurs the line between the sounds of modular synthesis and bat sonar on “Music for a Room with Vaulted Ceiling.” And on Sarah Davachi’s “Marion,” the listener is immersed in a luminous halo of nocturnal overtones. Wherever the artists venture, this is a varied yet consistently evocative collection.

Tim Clarke  

 FMB DZ — The Gift 3 (Fast Money Boyz / EMPIRE)

The Gift 3 was initially set to be released in December 2019 but was postponed until now. DZ’s “Merry Christmas, pussies!” on one of the tracks doesn’t sound so odd, though, because the whole world has plunged into a constant holiday. The new album continues two trends. It carries on the “ape” theme from the previous album Ape Season. “Ape Activities,” “Keep It on Me” and “No Features” are the grittiest tracks from a disc where the prevalent mood is a sick worry. DZ made it out of the hood but had to be on the lookout as the enemies are out to get him. The other trend is that The Gift 3 continues the ideas of The Gift series. The songs have a usual verse-hook structure, are poppier and more relaxed than on Ape Season. DZ, thankfully, doesn’t try to sing anymore but hires some singers on choruses. The hardest track here is “High Speed” with Rio Da Yung Og where Detroit/Flint duo spit vicious lines.

Ray Garraty

  Hala — Red Herring (Cinematic)

Detroit multi-instrumentalist Ian Ruhala wears his heart dripping from his sleeve on “Red Herring” his latest record as Hala. Skipping from the yacht rock of “Making Me Nervous” to the country blues of “True Colors” via power pop, The Kinks and Tom Petty, Ruhala manages to create a thread with deceptively simple melodies and the sincerity of his delivery.  There’s more than a touch of Kevin Barnes in the voice and the delight in throwing genres at the wall to see what sticks and, like Barnes, some of it fails to adhere. The pleasure here is in the sense of eavesdropping on the process and reveling in unexpected flourishes that refuse to be ignored.  

Ruhala writes a smooth love song and isn’t afraid to turn up the guitar or address politics on standout “Lies” - “I’m eating breakfast with the fascists/Oh man they stand about ten feet tall/My mouth is bleeding at their proceedings/They get their courage through a plastic straw” It may not be Guthrie but he makes it work through a leavening wit and a mid-tempo vamp straight from the solar plexus. “Red Herring” suffers somewhat from its stylistic roaming but a fundamental big heartedness and willingness to reach makes it an enjoyable trip.  

Andrew Forell  

 Las Kellies — Suck This Tangerine (Fire)

Suck This Tangerine opens with a loose groove and a grime smeared highlife guitar line, the voice enters with ironic invitations over choppy Gang of Four chords. In the new one from Las Kellies, Argentinian duo Cecilia Kelly and Silvina Costa sling taut bass lines and slash guitars over mutant disco rhythms for 12 tracks of slinky indie dance. Drawing on elements from Leeds, London and the Bronx, Kelly and Costa add dubby space and South American humidity to their sound, to elevate the album beyond the sum of its influences.  

Kelly handles guitar and bass, wielding the former like a cross between Andy Gill and Viv Albertine and unfurling loose funky serpents with the latter. Costa swings between ESG and The Bush Tetras and incorporates an array of hand drums that deepen and enliven the rhythmic pulse. There is a palpable and joyful chemistry between the two evidenced by their easy interplay and enhanced by the production that gives clarity and elbowroom to each instrument. If the lyrics can tend toward the perfunctory, they are delivered with a winking insouciance on put downs like “Close Talker” and “Rid Of You”.  Suck This Tangerine is a worthy addition to the growing collection of feminist post-punk inspired albums we’ve been dancing to of late.  

Andrew Forell  

 Mint Mile — Ambertron (Comedy Minus One)

Ambertron by Mint Mile

Silkworm, the band, may have ended in 2005 with the death of drummer Michael Dahlquist, but its legacy of slow, gut-socking heaviness, mordant wit and muscular guitar lives on, first in Bottomless Pit and now in Tim Midyett’s new band Ambertron. Midyett’s voice and clangorous baritone guitar is instantly recognizable, of course, to anyone who loved Silkworm, but the band diverges somewhat with the pedal steel played by Justin Brown of Palliard, weaving eerily though the slow buzz and moan of “Likelihood.” Jeff Panall, from Songs:Ohio, plays the hard, heavy drums that undergird these songs, giving them structure and forward motion. Other players include Matthew Barnhart from Tre Orsi and Horward Draper from Shearwater. Greg Normal of Bitter Tears contributes a mournful bit of trumpet to “Fallen Rock,” and Chicago alt-country mainstay Kelly Hogan takes the lead in “Sang.” The music is raw and morose; even dense strings can’t quite lift the gloom in “Christmas Comes and Goes,” a song as raw as late November in Chicago. And yet there’s a sort of resilience in it, a strength that comes through persistence. “If we could only find a way to bank the time we had together,” sings Midyett in “Giving Love,” his hoarse voice full of ragged loss, his guitar raging against it all and not quite beaten down even now.

Jennifer Kelly

 Gard Nilssen’s Supersonic Orchestra — If You Listen Carefully the Music Is Yours (Odin)

If You Listen Carefully The Music Is Yours by Gard Nilssen´s Supersonic Orchestra

Perched atop his drum stool, Gard Nilssen sits where styles converge. He’s supplied the controlled boil that drives the free-bop combo Cortex, laid down some heavier beats with Bushman’s Revenge and exemplified long-form lucidity with his own trio, Acoustic Unity. In 2019, the Molde Jazz Festival recognized his versatility and forward perspective by anointing him the artist in residence. Besides showcasing his ongoing projects and accompanying heavy guests from abroad, most notably Bill Frisell, he got to put together a dream project. This 16-piece big band, which includes members of Cortex, Acoustic Unity, and the Trondheim Jazz Orchestra, is it. With the assistance of co-arranger André Roligheten, Nilssen has taken some of his trio’s sturdy melodies and turned them into frameworks for boisterous but subtly colored performances. With three basses and three drummers, this could have been either a mess or an uptight game of “you first,” “no sir after you.” But the rhythm crew shifts easily between swinging unisons and refractory elaborations. Roligheten often plays two saxophones at once in smaller settings, and one suspects that he has a lot to do with the rich colors that the horns paint around the featured soloists.

Bill Meyer  

 Matthew J. Rolin — Ohio (Garden Portal)

Ohio by Matthew J. Rolin

The ghoulish image on the j-card belies the sounds encoded upon this tape. Matthew J. Rolin is a relative newcomer to the practice of acoustic guitar performance; the earliest release on his Bandcamp page was recorded in late 2017. But he’s catching on fast. Switching between six and twelve-string guitars, he serves up equal measures of ingratiating lyricism and immersive surrender to pure sound. Opener “Red Brick” slots into the former category, with a heart-tugging melody that keeps doling out turns that’ll keep you wondering where it’s going and backtracks that’ll ensure that you never feel lost. “Brooklyn Centre,” on the other hand, grows filaments of string sound out of a pool of prayer bowl resonance centering enough to make you cancel your mindfulness app subscription due to perceived lack of need. Rolin develops ideas situated between these poles over the rest of this brief set, which runs just shy of 28 minutes and definitely leaves one wanting a bit more.

Bill Meyer

 Nick Storring — My Magic Dreams Have Lost Their Spell (Orange Milk)

My Magic Dreams Have Lost Their Spell by Nick Storring

What Jim O’Rourke did for the music of Van Dyke Parks and John Fahey on Bad Timing, Nick Storring does for Roberta Flack’s on My Magic Dreams Have Lost Their Spell. The Canadian composer may not have O’Rourke’s name recognition or past membership in a very famous rock band going for him, but consider these parallels. He’s a handy with quite a few instruments, he’s an inveterate assistant to other artists across disciplinary lines, and he functions with equal commitment and fluency in a variety of genres. For this record, his first to be pressed on vinyl (albeit in miniscule numbers), Storring uses the lush string sound of Flack’s 1970s hits as a launching point for deep sonic immersions that are considerably more emotionally oblique than their inspirations’ articulations of loneliness and surrender. When he goes melodic, the cello-led tunes seem to reach for something that they never touch, and when he goes for slow-motion density, the music imparts an experience akin to watching the sort of cinematic experience where you can’t tell if you’re seeing a really slow take or the film has frozen at a single frame.

Bill Meyer

 Sunn Trio — Electric Esoterica (Twenty One Eight Two Recording Company)

Electric Esoterica by Sunn Trio

Sunn Trio, from Arizona, makes sprawling, multi-ethnic psychedelia that juxtaposes the scree and groan of heavy improvisational rock with the otherly chords and rhythms of the Middle East.  Opener “Alhiruiyn” slicks a trebly sheen over its surging, rampaging improvisations, more in the vein of Black Sun Ensemble than Cem Karaca.  But “Majoun” layers antic percussion and tone-shifting bent notes in a limber evocation of the souk.  “Roktabija The Promulgator” blasts a strident, swaggering surf riff, about as Arabic as “Miserlou” (which is, in fact, Arabic).  “Khons at Karnak” buzzes with hard rock aggression, but shimmies with belly dancing syncopation.  Because of the name, the preoccupation with non-Western cultures and the Phoenix mailing address, you might think that Sunn Trio is aligned somehow with Sun City Girls, but no.  All kinds of weirdness lurks in the desert out there, lucky for us.  

Jennifer Kelly  

 Turbo, Gunna & Young Thug — “Quarantine Clean” single (Playmakers)

Despite the subject matter’s potential (ahem) virality, “Quarantine Clean” slipped out almost unnoticed in early April and is the kind of muted performance Young Thug doesn’t get enough credit for (while, curiously, his followers often get too much derision for). For all of Thugger’s hyperfluorescent hijinx over the years that have produced earworms like, say, “That’s All” and “Wyclef Jean,” there’s another side that shows up in stuff like “The Blanguage” and “Freaky” where he lets the words do the work; that’s the subterranean sonic world we’re living in here as he opines on God’s role in the pandemic and why he’s lost so much money but still has to pay for his parents’ penthouse (which: welcome to the revolution, pal). Thug’s acolyte in slime Gunna, meanwhile, does most of the song’s heavy lifting with duties on the first verse and chorus, but it’s pretty hard to tell the two apart, such is the slippery restraint both opt to exercise here. The real star, then, is beatmaker Turbo, whose buoyant anchor melody is complemented by what sounds like a lilting flute. It’s a light touch from all parties, a mellow mood well suited to our time of collective party-eschewing shelter. Run that back in prudence.

Patrick Masterson

 Various Artists—Ten Years Gone (A Tribute to Jack Rose) (Tompkins Square)

Ten Years Gone : A Tribute to Jack Rose by Various Artists

A decade on from the too early passing of the great American Primitive/blues/raga player Jack Rose, Arborea’s Buck Curran gathers friends, collaborators and younger artists inspired by Rose for a gorgeous tribute to the master. Mike Gangloff, who played with Rose in Pelt and Black Twig Pickers, leads off with a plaintive, sepia-toned fiddle lament (“The Other Side of Catawbwa”), while next generation experimental droner Prana Crafter closes with an expansive, space folk reverie (“High Country Dynamo”). In between, old friends like Sir Richard Bishop evoke Rose’s full-blown orchestral guitar playing (“By Any Other Name”) while young pickers like Matt Sowell take up the trail forged by Dr. Ragtime. Isasa from Spain and Paulo Laboule Novellino from Italy attest to Rose’s global appeal. It’s mostly guitar, but not entirely; Helena Espvall from Espers contributes a brooding, reverberant “Alcantara” on cello. Curran’s own “Greenfields of America (Spiritual for Jack Rose)” is slow and thoughtful, letting long bent notes ring out with liquid clarity; it’s a hymn and a prayer and a testimony to the wide influence of an artist gone too soon.  

Jennifer Kelly

 Emily Jane White — Immanent Fire (Talitres)

Immanent Fire by Emily Jane White

Emily Jane White gets tagged as a folk singer, but on this, her sixth full-length, the Oakland songwriter brings a fair amount of goth-tinged drama. Taut string arrangements and big booming drums lift “Infernal” well out of the woman-with-guitar category, and White sounds more like PJ Harvey or even Chelsea Wolfe than a sweet voiced strummer. Immanent Fire sticks, topically, to environmental concerns with track titles like “Washed Away,” “Drowned” and “Metamorphosis.” A foreboding creeps through the songs, pretty as they are, even piano lit “Dew” asks “Does poison drop like the dew?” Arrangements, by Anton Patzner, the composer, arranger and violinist of Foxtails Brigade and Judgment Day, give these cuts weight and heft, punctuating eerie melodies with thick swathes of strings, rumbling percussion and keyboards. The disc culminates in “Light” which begins in a whisper and climaxes in drum-shocked, orchestral swoon. Soothing background music it is not.

Jennifer Kelly

 Z-Ro — Quarantine: Social Distancing (1 Deep Entertainment / EMPIRE)

An unexpected seven-track EP bears an expected title from a Dirty South legend. Z-Ro’s usual topics — trust and loneliness — gain a new meaning in the time of social distancing. To keep away women who only want his money is a necessary precaution now. To be at the corner at the party is a rule for survival. Z-Ro is on his ground counting his dough alone in the house. Earlier he did it so no ‘shife’ (the title of one of the tracks) friends could rob him, now it’s just to obey quarantine rules. The first half of this EP is a bit muddled by unnecessary intros and reggae tunes but the second one hits hard. As always with Z-Ro, the hardest content takes the gentlest form (“Niggas is Hoes” especially is almost a pop song). On the final track “Life of the Party” Boosie Badazz drops by, giving his verdict on the pandemic: “Fuck Corona!”

Ray Garraty

#dust #dusted magazine #aperiodic #agallah #courtney marie andrews #bill meyer #ray garraty #patrick masterson #dennis callaci #tobias carroll #lisa cameron #tom carter #Ingebrigt Håker Flaten #tim daisy #Kaja Draksler #terrie ex #errant #jonathan shaw #field works #tim clarke #fmb dz #hala #andrew forell #las kellies #mint mile #jennifer kelly #gard nilssen #matthew j.rolin #nick storring #sunn trio

[lokirupaul]

Lokiru Paul : The Life and Suspicious Death of Cachou the Bear

The Life and Suspicious Death of Cachou the Bear



Cachou the brown bear was found dead on the mountains just above the village of Les, in the Aran Valley.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

Conservationists saw the 6-year-old brown bear as a symbol of hope. Villagers saw him as a menace. Then he turned up dead.

By Laura Millan Lombrana for 

Bloomberg

July 8, 2021, 7:01 AM GMT+3

Para leer el reportaje en español.

Ivan Afonso checked his computer one last time before picking up the phone. It was April 2020, and like most of Spain, Afonso was stuck at home under a strict Covid lockdown. But his mind was in the mountains.

An environmental scientist, Afonso also served as head of the environmental division in the Aran Valley, a tiny area of the Pyrenees mountain range that forms a dent along Spain’s border with France. For the past three years, his duties had included monitoring the movements of Cachou, a 6-year-old, 130-kilo (287-pound) brown bear. The bear was a local celebrity, one of the few males born in the wild in the Pyrenees and living proof that conservationists’ efforts to rejuvenate the region’s struggling brown bear colony were working.

The task had been a nightmare from the start. Cachou was young and fiery, and—to the dismay of conservationists and farmers—prone to wreaking havoc. Like most bears, Cachou had a sweet tooth. He’d started with assaulting bee farms, but by 2019, he’d learned to hunt horses many times his size. Eventually, authorities put a tracker on him, but even that didn’t work. At one point he was blamed for four attacks within two weeks.

Aran Valley

Source: USGS, EarthExplorer

Cachou had given Afonso and horse breeders in the valley some rest during winter. But the tracker showed the bear had come out of hibernation earlier than usual. He’d been in France in March, but a more recent ping put him somewhere in the mountains above Les, a tiny village of fewer than 1,000 people. After that he’d ventured deeper into the forest, close to a trail—and then stopped. The next 24 pings were all in the same spot. Afonso couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“Either the tracker had dropped, or he was dead,” he thought. 



The Garona river, seen here from the village of Bossost, is born high on the Pyrenees and flows into the Atlantic Ocean in France.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

In light of the vast extinction event currently underway on Earth, the death of a single bear might seem less than significant. And yet, on the morning of April 9, 2020, Afonso decided it was time to do something. He called the head of Aran Valley’s government first, then dialed the valley’s ranger corps and requested two trustworthy agents who could discreetly hike to the place the pings were coming from.

Finally, he dialed the head of Catalonia’s park ranger corps in the Northern Pyrenees, Anna Servent. Spry in her early 40s, with a resolute expression and brown hair cut short on one side, Servent heads a small, semi-secret team of investigators who specialize in animal poisonings. Their methods are unconventional. While most rangers focus on analyzing animal remains, the people on Servent’s team spend years building networks of local informers. They wear plainclothes, change vehicles often, and tend to visit their sources in the middle of the night to avoid drawing attention.

By the turn of the 21st century, brown bears were almost extinct here after decades of indiscriminate hunting and poisoning. In 1996, just three survived in the entire 430-kilometer (267-mile) mountain range. While the population has recovered after several European Union-sponsored conservation projects, it remains Europe’s smallest colony, with a count of 64 bears as of 2020. The lower Aran Valley, with its thick forests covered in old beech, oak, and chestnut trees and a milder climate, has become a breeding ground for the endangered predators.

But what conservationists consider a victory, many who’ve grown up in the mountains see as a declaration of war. “Naturally, when you reintroduce a species that has been previously eliminated on purpose, you’ll run again into similar conflicts that caused the reduction in numbers in the first place,” says Elisabeth Pötzelsberger, head of the resilience program at the European Forest Institute, an EU research center. “It would be quite naive to think everyone will be happy and clapping hands.”



Anna Servent heads a small, semi-secret team of investigators who specialize in animal poisonings.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

After talking to Afonso, Servent and one of her investigators—whose identity can’t be revealed to avoid compromising ongoing cases—jumped in a car and drove fast through deserted, meandering roads into the Aran Valley. The view on the way in is bucolic, with rocky peaks covered in snow and slopes so steep one fears they might collapse onto the bright green pastures below. The stone towers and slate roofs of Romanic churches dot the expanse, which is split in two by the Garona river. Those who live there still speak a modern version of Occitan, a romance language troubadours used for songs and poems before the Renaissance. They’re proud of their rural roots and tend to look suspiciously at anyone coming from south of the Pyrenees. 

The Aran Valley community is so tight, Servent’s rangers hadn’t been able to groom informants in the area, so she hoped their car would go unnoticed as she and her teammate neared Les. They headed up the mountain trail, climbed through the steep forest, and reached Cachou’s body at roughly the same time as the local rangers.



Joan Vazquez, founder of environmental organization Ipcena, holds a picture of a book showing Cachou’s body in the forest where it was found.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

The bear was lying belly up at the bottom of a 40-meter rocky cliff, a single canine sticking out of his half-open mouth. There were signs he’d been there for a long time, but that the death was quite recent, indicating that he could have lay there suffering for a long time, which happens sometimes in poisoning cases.

Servent speaks in a low voice and a calm tone as she details their inspection of the body and the surrounding area, but her face is serious behind a blue surgical mask. “We didn’t see any signs of poisoning initially,” she says. That made them even more restless. Before they left, Afonso had told them: “If you don’t find an obvious cause of death, look for antifreeze.” 

Ivan Afonso likes to think of himself as a man between two worlds. He was born of the Pyrenees, but not of the Aran Valley, and completed his university degree in cosmopolitan Barcelona. At 47 years old, he still feels more at ease in the mountains looking for endangered birds or scouring remote ponds for rare frogs than he does in his small office in the Aran government’s headquarters.



Born in the Pyrenees and educated in Barcelona, Ivan Afonso likes to think of himself as a man between two worlds.

Photographer:Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

It pained Afonso not to be able to go out into the mountains to find Cachou, but he had reason to believe that they’d be walking into a crime scene, which meant that the fewer people there disturbing evidence, the better. Twice during 2019, he told Servent’s rangers, he’d overheard a man from Les talk about using antifreeze against bears, according to court documents seen by Bloomberg Green—once during a private meeting, and once during a public speech. This same man had once headed the Aran Valley Land Department, and was partially responsible for overseeing 2.4 million euros ($2.8 million) of EU funds intended for brown bear conservation in the Pyrenees.

“I didn’t pay attention to him at that time. Maybe it was a mistake, but I was skeptical,” Afonso says. “There are rumors about killing bears all the time. People boast about having killed a bear and the next day we see it appear on a surveillance camera.

“Even if I had paid attention,” he goes on, “what could have I done? Everyone in the valley has antifreeze. I’ve got two bottles at home.” 



A rusty trap used to catch bears is kept on a storage room on the basement of the Catalan rangers’ headquarters in Tremp (left). Aldicarb (right) is a pesticide now banned in Europe. A small quantity is enough to kill a wild boar.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

Antifreeze is a ranger’s worst nightmare. Used to prevent car engines from freezing and therefore widely available in shops and petrol stations, it goes undetected in common post mortem tests and vanishes from corpses within days, if not hours. It can only be found if the body is fresh, and if pathologists are specifically looking for it. 

A few hundred miles from where Cachou’s body was found, wildlife pathologist Roser Velarde was sitting in in her office at Universitat Autonoma de Barcelona’s Faculty of Veterinary Medicine, surrounded by microscopes and deer skulls, when she got a call from Afonso, telling her that the bear would be on her operating table by the next day. With 20 years of practice behind her, Velarde didn’t flinch—Cachou’s would hardly be her first animal autopsy, and certainly not her most challenging. Once, much to the amusement of her students and colleagues, she performed a necropsy on a whale on the patio outside because the animal wouldn’t fit inside her lab. 

During Cachou’s necropsy, Velarde spoke in the same patient, explanatory tone she uses with her students. The body had no bullet wounds, no broken bones, cuts, or major signs of violence. Some superficial teeth marks on the side of his head suggested that an animal, most likely another bear, had bit him, but that was ruled out as the cause of death. As she opened him up, she also ruled out death by common poisons, as most cause massive internal bleeding. Velarde spent four hours cutting, weighing, measuring, gathering samples, and taking pictures, but she found nothing. It wasn’t until after all that that Servent’s investigator, who attended the necropsy, told Velarde about Afonso’s antifreeze suspicion.



A professor at Universitat Autonoma de Barcelona, Roser Velarde has been performing necropsies, mostly on wild animals, for 20 years.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

Back in her office, Velarde processed samples of urine and brain tissue. Three days later, the university’s head of wildlife eco-pathology confirmed that the samples contained crystals of calcium oxalate, which are consistent with the presence of ethylene glycol, the chemical that comprises between 90 and 95% of antifreeze. 

About 12 hours after ingesting the antifreeze, Cachou’s neurological system would have started to malfunction. He would have felt severe stomach irritation and possibly slipped into a coma. His lungs and heart would have started to shut down within hours, but he could have stayed alive for as long as nine days later, until his kidneys finally failed. 

“Cachou the bear suffered a slow and very painful agony that went on for days—until he died,” Velarde concluded in her report, according to court documents. That, combined with the signals from the tracking device, meant Cachou was poisoned on or around March 26. 

“The first thing we did was to request the judge to keep the investigation secret,” Servent says—something typically only done in highly sensitive cases such as those involving drug trafficking and political corruption, and never before for the suspected murder of a wild animal. “It terrified us that people would find out and start getting ideas—and obviously we didn’t want the poisoner to know we knew.” Her request was granted. As a result, details of the investigation haven’t been made public.



Bees in the Aran Valley were among the first victims of Cachou’s attacks—like many bears, he had a sweet tooth.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

With no reliable sources in the area, Servent knew her team’s usual methods wouldn’t work, so she put in a call to the Catalan police, also known as Mossos d’Esquadra. 

Deputy inspector Cesar Jou tried to hide his surprise as the voice on the other side of the line told him about his next case. After 25 years as a policeman, most of them on the Mossos’ crime unit in the Pyrenees, he was used to homicides, drug trafficking, and organized violence. But Cachou was his first bear victim. “I was surprised when they asked me to investigate the death of a bear, but we treated it as if it was a homicide. It was a challenge,” he says.

Jou’s first move was to go to Les with his agents and ask locals if they’d seen anything strange in the days around when Cachou was poisoned. In places where everyone knows each other, crime is often seen as an attack on the community as a whole, Jou says. With the country on a strict lockdown, surely someone would have noticed something, he thought. 

He was wrong. “No one knew anything, no one had seen anything,” Jou says. Cachou’s killer was perceived as the savior of the village. “There was a sense of angst among the ranchers.”

Anti-bear sentiment in the region goes back generations. “Living with the bear is an obligation, something we haven’t decided,” says Frances Bruna, the current head of the Land Department in the Aran Valley government. A horse-breeder himself, Bruna talks dearly about his mares and explains that he, too, has suffered bear attacks in the past. “They’ll give us subsidies, aid, they’ll pay back whenever there are attacks. But inside us there will always be that feeling.”

Bruna’s various responsibilities are often at odds with each other. He’s charged with leading environmental and bear conservation initiatives in the valley, but he also looks after the wellbeing of farmers and their animals. Catalan authorities have spent years trying to mediate between these two worlds. The regional government now compensates ranchers for each animal killed by a bear, and last year spent 84,500 euros to install fences and pay for shepherds and mastiff dogs to watch over sheep and cattle in the Pyrenees during the summer months. It also pays for the animals’ insurance and has hired an external company that acts as a mediator between farmers and the administration.

“Bears were something imposed from Europe, paid with European funds that I guess someone was very happy to collect,” says Marc Cuny, the president of the Association of the Pyrenees Catalan Horse in the Aran Valley. “No one asked for our opinion, they just told us it would be the panacea—and it wasn’t.”



Marc Cuny feeds two of his mares at a field near Vielha. Breeders’ bond with their animals is emotional and goes back generations.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

It isn’t a matter of money, says Cuny. Standing in his field next to Ines, Monica, and Nera, three of his 16 mares, he keeps a close eye on a filly born just hours ago that his young daughter has named Peppa Pig. Horses are an important part of the valley’s traditions, and breeders’ bond with them is emotional, he says.

“Poisoning the bear was a mistake, and whoever did it wasn’t thinking about the consequences,” Cuny says. “But when a beast kills 12 or 13 horses and is not removed from the mountain, you can understand that someone decided to do it themselves.”



Two Mossos d’Esquadra agents hike across the steep slopes of the Pyrenees to the place where Cachou’s body was found.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

With no cooperation from locals, the investigation into Cachou’s death advanced slowly. Eventually, police identified five potential subjects, including the official who had talked publicly about poisoning bears; a local ranger who was part of the bear restoration program and had access to Cachou’s positioning data; two people whose phone signals showed they had been in the area around the date of the killing; and one who’d installed a surveillance camera near the place where the body was found.

Still, the investigation bore no real clues until the end of June. After weeks of fruitless interrogations, one witness—a ranger with the Aran Valley government—finally broke the code of silence, divulging the existence of a WhatsApp group called, bluntly, the Anti-Bear Platform, according to court documents. All the messages in the chat had been deleted, but Jou’s investigators could see that the group had over 140 members. Among the administrators was the official who’d talked about poisoning bears.  

Jou’s agents had already begun tapping the phones of the suspects they’d identified, but the Anti-Bear Platform gave them the key they needed to begin deciphering how the group operated. In the latter half of 2020, however, the investigation took an unexpected turn. The taps showed a network of people who were changing phone numbers frequently, working in tight shifts in a house in the valley. Some of them had Colombian accents.

On March 29, Jou’s team arrested 12 people suspected of belonging to a cocaine trafficking ring. Agents seized almost 2 kilos of pure cocaine worth about 200,000 euros, an unprecedented amount in an area where no one had previously suspected of drug-dealing activity of this magnitude. The Aran Valley is famous for the high-end resort of Baqueira, which attracts jet set skiers and mountain hikers from both sides of the border, including the Spanish royal family, and many now suspect the traffickers were serving its rich patrons.

“We thought it was Cachou’s way of saying ‘thank you’ for having investigated his death,” says Jou jokingly before getting serious again. “It’s been the most important cocaine operation for Mossos d’Esquadra in the Aran Valley for several years.” 

More than a year after Cachou’s murder, the investigation is almost complete. 

In November, police arrested two of their original five suspects, including the ranger who had access to Cachou’s positioning data and had been caught on a tapped phone discussing the position of a different bear entering the valley. The ranger denied the charges—which included the commission of a crime against fauna, revelation of secrets, and perversion of justice—and refused to give a statement. He was eventually released and remains a member of the Aran Valley rangers, although he’s no longer involved in bear-monitoring activities, according to the local government. The judge also summoned the official who’d boasted about antifreeze-soaked sponges, but he, too, refused to give a statement. 

Finally, in early June, police arrested the ranger who’d disclosed the existence of the Anti-Bear chat. His statements to the police were full of contradictions, and in tapped phone conversations with the other arrested ranger, he’d discussed deleting possibly incriminating messages. He also refused to give a statement and was freed on the same day.

The inquiry into Cachou’s death is the first criminal investigation into the death of a wild animal in Spain, and possibly anywhere else in Europe, environmental groups say. But it’s unlikely to be the last. The EU has made the conservation and restoration of natural habitats, including increasing biodiversity and expanding forests, an essential part in its fight against climate change, wildfires, and disease outbreaks.

Wolves, lynx and bears play a key role in that plan. These super-predators are known as umbrella species; because they’re at the top of the food chain, they can only thrive if every other animal and plant below them is healthy too. Their success or failure is therefore seen as a proxy for the state of conservation and biodiversity efforts, on which the bloc plans to spend 20 billion euros ($24 billion) a year over the next decade. 



A police agent looks down at the exact place where Cachou was found, deep inside the forest at the bottom of a rocky cliff.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

The trial could also bring further scrutiny to how European conservation funds are spent. In addition to the former Land official who was once in charge of administering this money in the Aran Valley, the ranger who allegedly leaked Cachou’s location was paid entirely by EU conservation funding.

“Aid must come with conditions,” says Joan Vazquez, founder of conservation organization Ipcena, which will appear as an individual prosecutor in the trial. “States are not watching how that money is spent, they just send reports to the EU saying everything’s going perfect. And the EU believes it unless there are cases like Cachou’s proving the contrary.”

This is not an isolated case of dubious oversight. A recent report by European nonprofit Bankwatch Network documented biodiversity plans by several Eastern European countries. Analysts found that some, including Bulgaria and Poland, directly infringe current laws, while others engage in greenwashing or other deceptive practices, all while receiving EU funding and applying for more.

In this harsher, more bureaucratic light, Cachou wasn’t just a bear, he was a bellwether. The fact that he was wearing a tracking device—and that Afonso moved fast to locate him—meant rangers got to the scene before his body deteriorated, which allowed Velarde to prove the cause of death in a way that would stand up in court. Because of Cachou’s fame and the existing tension between the Aran Valley’s bears and humans, the judge encouraged investigators on the case, include Servent and Jou, to use all means necessary to find the killer.

The judge in Vielha, the capital of the Aran Valley, is expected to formally charge the ranger, the public official, and potentially others when she closes the investigation, likely within the next few months. At that point, a different judge will bring the case to trial sometime next year in the city of Lleida, about 160 kilometers south of the valley. The mystery of Cachou’s death has raised so much attention that authorities fear Vielha’s tiny courthouse won’t be big enough to hold all the interested spectators.

Back in Les, locals await the start of the trial with a mix of uneasiness and indifference. On a foggy morning in April, a few of them read the paper and eat breakfast at an old cafe, casually chatting about whether the end of the lockdown would bring French tourists back. On the wall hang black and white pictures of dead bears and smiling hunters.

“I remember old people in the villages telling us stories about bears,” says Bruna, the current head of the Land Department. “Whoever arrived to the village with a dead bear was hailed as a hero and everyone wanted to be in the picture with them.”



Frances Bruna, the current head of the Land Department in the Aran Valley government, remembers the times when bear hunters were hailed as heroes.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

The investigation of Cachou’s murder has done nothing to erase those decades-old lines, Afonso says. Locals who either sympathized with the bears or who didn’t care either way have since turned against them after being summoned to testify, realizing their phones were tapped, or seeing the names friends and relatives written about as suspects in the local press. If anything, it’s made the community even more wary of strangers.

At base, the case is a clash between two ways of seeing the environment, Afonso says: the Araneses’ pragmatic view of nature as a profitable resource, and the outsider’s more romanticized view of humanity’s duty to protect and preserve.

“The most extreme examples of these two worlds are represented in this case,” Afonso says. “Very zealous justice and police systems that acted as if a person had been killed, and a wise guy who decided to take matters into his own hands.”

Servent thinks it will be a turning point in how authorities treat wildlife deaths. About 40 bears have died since 1996, some in circumstances that have never been properly investigated, according to Ipcena. Mysterious bear deaths include that of Cachou’s father, Balou, who according to reports by French authorities was hit by lightning and fell off a cliff.

“Everyone who has participated in this has taken it very seriously so it wouldn’t end in nothing,” Servent says. “Everyone has seen that the death of a bear can’t go unnoticed.”



The Pyrenees mountain range acts as a natural wall that isolates the Aran Valley from the rest of Spain. Its inhabitants are proud of their distinct identity and speak a modern version of Occitan.

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

As for Cachou’s killer, there are different views of who did it. The police and rangers think it was someone from the area who had access to Cachou’s confidential positioning data, knows the forests well, and knows how to use poison. The perpetrator has also likely suffered bear attacks, they say, possibly at the teeth and paws of Cachou himself.

Afonso has a different guess. He suspects someone has been killing bears for a while, but that Cachou wasn’t necessarily the target. The area where his body was found is a route frequently used by bears, and at a time when sightings are increasing everywhere on the Pyrenees, they’re falling precisely in that place.

“If I was the poisoner, I wouldn’t kill the only bear that’s wearing a tracking device,” he says. “That person was unlucky that Cachou passed by. I’m quite sure of that.”

[emaguire]

Case Notes: The Theft of the Great Green Jewel

The COVID-19 pandemic has changed a lot for all of us, but especially those who spend time in creative industries. For the time being, theatre work has dried up, and digital work has pivoted exclusively to the self-filmed and self-taped variety. So I made some more of that. Here’s a sorta... discussion?? of my process.

We went into lockdown on the 27th of March 2020, with at least four weeks, but potentially more, enforced. In total, proper lockdown lasted five weeks, with another two weeks at ‘level 3′ - with slightly looser rules, but the same focus on minimising crowd movement. I personally had been in lockdown since the 25th, as my places of work both closed on that day.

I also decided to write. I write a lot, I write an approximate ton of fanfiction every single week (no judgment, it’s a legitimate hobby), but I wanted to do something bigger.

It’s no secret that I like cozy mysteries. Generally, a cozy mystery is a mystery narrative that’s got very minimal stakes. It might be a murder plot, or it could just be a theft, but in general, the whole thing takes place in a quaint country town, there’s often a quiche competition, and there isn’t much in the way of peril. They’re mostly made for old people, so obviously I love them. Think Midsomer Murders, Rosemary and Thyme, Agatha Raisin...

I personally had just gotten into Agatha Raisin, which is a UK show set around a marking exec that moves to the country and starts solving murders - though a lot of the narrative is about the love triangle the titular character has with Sir Charles Fraith - a flirty dude who lives in an estate, and James Lacey - a more sarcastic, take-no-shit kinda guy, who’s Agatha’s neighbour. It’s a fun show, with very minimal stakes, and a lot of comedy. It’s also the first cozy mystery show I’ve seen that’s actually said the word ‘bisexual’, and meant it - which is significantly better than a lot of mainstream shows these days, but I digress.

(It does fall into its stereotypes, but it’s mostly harmless. Pictured, Roy Silver and Agatha Raisin from one episode of the show.)

I loved Knives Out last year, and I’m a big fan of mysteries. So, I decided to write one.

The Premise

First, a crime. I chose a theft, because honestly, murder is depressing, and during a global pandemic I wanted to steer away from the idea of ‘obvious death’. Plus, ‘be gay, steal jewels from monarchists’ is a fun premise, while ‘be gay, murder innocent people’ is not. 

Second, a location. A big country estate. They’re stereotypical, they’re self-contained, and most importantly, they allow for a multitude of rooms and backgrounds, which is what I was expecting for a self-filmed work.

Third, a time period. The 1920s is a fun time, full of intrigued and very specific costuming. I had just come out of Fringe, where I’d written a short noir sketch called Eat Your Heart Out Raymond Chandler - which was noir, but with mad libs cobbled together from the audience. That was set in the 50s, but it had some neat characterisation and ideas that I liked, as well as a detective named Fairleigh Goode...

The Characters

Detective fiction has a ton of trope characters. You can easily name them. There’s the detective, the blushing ingenue, an older ‘wise’ person, maybe a groundskeeper or member of staff... the list goes on. I wanted ten characters in total, because it’s a pleasing number, and it allowed for multiple threads of action and dialogue, alongside character interaction. I also didn’t want to rely too specifically on stereotypes from the genre, which are often very blatant, and often fairly sexist.

The Detective - Fairleigh Goode already existed as a character in my head, so I just gave him a little more of an existence to play with. In this script, he’s retired - after a Serious Incident at the age of 26. He’s a little fed up, a little exhausted, but stuck on a case that fascinates him. He’s also very into using overlarge metaphors and general wordplay nonsense. I took some inspiration from Benoit Blanc, from Knives Out, who’s an immensely Southern detective with a tinge of insanity, and I just... elevated that. Fairleigh’s a good detective, he just doesn’t quite get idioms, okay - and there’s nothing wrong with that.

The Victim/Lord - Lord Arnold Ruxley is a detective fiction cornerstone character. In cozy mysteries, there’s always a lord of some sort, whether they’re chaotic good or generally a bastard. Wealth brings another level to a mystery script, and thus, I wanted a jewel of his to be stolen. However, I wanted to create a character that was multi-layered. Generally a party animal, but with a touch of mystery to him, Ruxley’s life is one of spending large and spending wildly. Overexcess, one might say. Hubris. A metaphor for capitalists. Yknow. Inspiration - Jay Gatsby, Charles Fraith.

The Governess - I personally wanted to play a role that was a little quieter, a little less orchestral to the story. There’s always members of serving staff in these kinds of narratives - people tend to overlook their servants, which allows for secrets and gossip to run wild. Servants notice things that other people might not. Thus, Daisy was born. Good at her job, but cutthroat. A little cruel. Inspiration - just... people from Downton Abbey, yknow.

The Porter - As above. I wanted a little more of a foil to Daisy’s ruthlessness - someone who wasn’t afraid to call out the double standards of the time, but also had a heart and a kindness underneath. Observational, quick to anger. In hindsight, I really would have liked to have done more with this character. When an audience’s first impression of a character is them in anger, it’s often not a great look and can cast them in a negative light despite their motives. Only time will tell.

The Femme Fatale - obvious. A trope character. However, my femme fatale has a brain. She’s not just there to be looked at. She pays attention, she notices  and understands things, and she looks good while doing it. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying literature and also wearing makeup. Fuck your standards.

The Scholar - So, SO often in detective fiction is there an older scholar. Usually a white guy, usually quite poised and status quo - I wanted to turn that on its head. Athena is a scholar who will go above and beyond for what’s right, even if that leads to her being struck off. She’s alienating, a little, but will say what’s on her mind. Inspiration - Indiana Jones, but like... the opposite.

The Bastard - Just an absolute dick. No redeeming features. An absolute tool. In this case, someone comically over bad who didn’t commit the theft. He’s just a dick regardless. Plus, there’s something funny in his existence - he’s a bit of a red herring. It’s very easy to expect him to be bad, and he is. He’s just bad in a narratively-irrelevant sense.

The Romantic - A flirt. Obvious, really. Someone to break up the characterisation a little, allow for sneakiness and secrets and excitement and sex. There’s always one of these in detective fiction as well, a dapper young man who often has an eye on the femme fatale, or other such ingenues, but is generally harmless.

The Gossip - A character who notices things and doesn’t keep them to herself. She’s harmless, really, if you’ve got nothing to hide. Characters like this can be quite jarring, quite intruding into the text, but I think I managed to soften her to the point where she’s likeable, and fairly performative.

The Artist - We all know this person. We’re all artists, we’ve all been at shows or exhibitions where there’s one person who knows too much about the subject, who name-drops other creatives for the sake of doing so, who perhaps doesn’t know when to stop talking. For the most part, he’s not hurting anyone, he’s just a little bit grating sometimes.

One other note, about these characters - I was trying to create characters that were... chaotic, of a sort. People with real motives, real existences, who weren’t afraid to push towards their own goals. My initial thinking was, “What happens if I put nine mildly-terrible people in a room, and a detective has to sort their shit out?”

The World

I’m a bit of a surrealist. I write very few pieces complete ‘straight’ - that’s in all senses, for the record. There’s usually an element of the eldritch, or the bizarre, to my pieces. I think it’s funnier, I think it allows for expansion, and I just don’t like writing jokes about normal shit. There’s enough comics that write about the mundanities of life, I’d rather write about a lord who’s wife almost definitely came into contact with an eldritch being at the bottom of a sinkhole and fell in love with it. Why? It’s fun.

My world? 1920s Europe, but it’s not the Europe we know. It’s a Europe with a lot more scope, a lot more wide-ranging characters. Perhaps international travel began to happen a little earlier, perhaps the combustion engine was invented earlier than 1876, perhaps everything is powered by magic and nonsense, rather than reality. A world with a degree of the mystical to it, but a world where people just get on with living instead of actively trying to fight against that.

Prejudice. Obviously it’s a remnant of the time. When I was writing this piece I knew I wanted to queer it, knew that if I didn’t it’d feel insincere - and really rather status quo. Most of my mates are queer, most of the actors I was writing these roles in mind of are queer - I wanted a piece that reflects the world we live in and the people I know. However, I didn’t want homophobia.

Someone I quite appreciate as an academia has coined this term - “homo-utopia”. It’s not technically a ‘real’ word, but it serves its purpose as a binary opposition to the slightly more common ‘hetero-utopia’, which is used in this case as “a world where heterosexuality is normalised, is the status quo, effects policy and the fundamental makeup of the world. (So, essentially our real world, y’know). In said academic’s eyes, a ‘homo-utopia’ is one where the same is true for the reverse, in that - it’s not a world where queer relationships are the dominant, but they are recognised in policy, in worldbuilding, they’re factored in to the fundamental makeup of existence, rather than tacked on when straight policymakers want to curry favor.

In this work, the scandal isn’t that there’s two men in the 1920s gettin’ together, it’s that it’s slightly crossing class boundaries and one of the dudes is a lord. The characters don’t care about the queering, they care about the fact that the thing is happening. The same scandal would erupt between any of the characters that aren’t the status quo, really. I think there’s scandal in the Daisy/Tom relationship too, for the sake of - they’re two people that you wouldn’t expect to get together, but they do.

Also, I’m just tired as fuck of homophobia. So many narratives featuring queer characters go straight to homophobia for a crisis point, and there’s absolutely a reason for that. It’s pivotal in our worlds. However, it’s upsetting, it’s exhausting, it’s bigotry that we see constantly, and I’d rather not write about it. I don’t need to throw out slurs or write obvious bigotry to give queer characters a reason to exist. Queerness for queerness’ sake, you know?

Re: classism - yeah, I know I’m hypocritical. Classism is a pretty big problem, and it is especially so in this narrative. It still exists in this ‘utopia’. Look at it this way. Capitalism is a flawed system. If big capitalists exist, so do the underclass. Wealth is entrenched in a narrative set on an estate, featuring a theft. I couldn’t just remove it. (also capitalism SUCKS SO I WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT IT.)

Re: colonialism - I make mention of the Empire a few times in this work. If there’s Lords, there’s a monarchy. Colonialism SUCKS SO I WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT IT. Could it have been a smidge more subtle? Yes. Did I get to write about a scholar uncomfortable with the current system stealing artifacts and returning them to the people they were stolen from? Also yes.

The Script

This is a... hefty script. It’s thicc. There’s a lot of facets to it, because it’s interactive. I was considering giving it more angles, but honestly - two turning points was enough for me by the time I finished writing it.

I wrote the thing in about four days. It wouldn’t work as a stage play or anything, because the entire thing works to guide the audience towards a specific conclusion, and it’s also very heavy on the exposition.

It’s a story that has a very open ending, because of the interactivity. There’s technically three main culprits, but the story is written in a way to guide the audience towards picking a specific one. The question is, do they go for the moral choice, or the logical choice? Or, alternatively, the wildcard? Only time will tell. I definitely wrote one specific dominant pathway though.

In the first act, we’re introduced to our characters. Each of them attended the party at Lord Arnold Ruxley’s manner, though most were hardly at the table the entire night. Lucinda and Paul were there for the longest time, with Raphael the least. We learn that Ruxley’s definitely hiding something, Athena disappeared for many moments, and Daisy and Tom weren’t there at all.

Then, there’s what I like to call a ‘choke point’. A place where the audience must make a decision. In this case, it’s - which character couldn’t have done the crime? This choke point was to narrow the scope for the next act, to take some players off the court, to slim the investigation down a little.

Lucinda, as she was at the table almost all night, Paul as he was too, or Raphael, as he was thoroughly pissed on Ruxley’s wine by the end of the night?

I’m writing this just before I release episode 2 tonight, and it’s a pretty even tie between Lucinda and Paul for innocence. Raphael’s just a bitch of a character so I’m not surprised that very few people think he’s innocent, considering the choices given.

In act 2, we respond to the innocent party, whoever that may be, and delve into the bulk of the main case. On a whole, whoever was deemed ‘innocent’ by the audience doesn’t really matter, as the narrative essentially deems all three innocent and they’re discounted from the case.

During this act, we learn that Ruxley is in debt - too many lavish parties and spending, as such Daisy and Tom are about to be fired and need to do something drastic, and Athena has a sordid past as a thief, stealing to right wrongs.

This is the second choke point, where the narrative starts to draw the audiences to a conclusion. On a whole, Ruxley is the character who has done the worst. He’s an overspender, a bit of an egoist, and he stole the jewel in the first place. It is, genuinely, the most moral choice to convict him.

However, given the facts, it’s most likely that Daisy and Tom actually did it. They weren’t present at the party, they had the most time to steal it, and they have the motive.

Athena is a wildcard, a choice I threw in to give the audience something else to think about. I’m not sure how many will pick her, though she does have the opportunity.

Act three is a summing up of the case. All the characters get the opportunity to showcase their feelings towards the crime, and then Fairleigh talks a little more nonsense. It’s a conclusion to the piece.

In the end, it’s a bit of a moral decision. Do you convict the person who’s genuinely a bad guy, or do you convict those who fit the facts?

We will just have to see.

...

(Also now I really want to write this into a proper radio drama with actual fully fleshed characters and foley. Any takers?)

#witterings #writing

[junker-town]

Tactically Naive: Is it time to give up on the European soccer season?

UEFA is meeting Thursday to decide the fate of European soccer in 2020.

Hello, and welcome to another edition of Tactically Naive, SB Nation’s weekly soccer column. Just ate an apple. It was pretty good.

Europe is freezing over

Very slowly, very carefully, football is coming to a stop. Most European leagues remain officially on hiatus, with discussions ongoing, and there will be a big UEFA meeting this later week. But here and there, leagues are simply giving up.

Belgium was the first to announce cancellation back at the beginning of April, though they were in a slightly unusual situation. Club Brugge were 15 points clear with just one game remaining in the regular season remaining. As such, if the table was finalised as it stood, the only parties inconvenienced would be Waasland-Beveren, who still had a slim chance of avoiding relegation, and any fans of Belgium’s hilariously byzantine playoff system.

UEFA responded to this announcement with much spluttering about solidarity, accompanied by threats to exclude any nations that cancelled prematurely from next season’s European competitions. You might think there’s something of a contradiction there, but it seems UEFA weren’t too troubled. And it worked: Belgium held off confirming the plan.

But that was all the way back on April 3, almost three whole weeks ago, which amounts to a couple of years in non-pandemic time. Since then Scotland has concluded its lower leagues using extrapolated points average, and reports suggest it will do the same to the Premiership later this week. This motion hasn’t passed quietly — Rangers are very peeved, indeed — but it hasn’t drawn censure from UEFA, either.

Which suggests, perhaps, a softening of their stance. With different countries taking different approaches to coronavirus lockdown, to greater or lesser success, and with social distancing measures likely to continue well into May, the idea of UEFA keeping the entire continent on pause became increasingly ridiculous. So, too, are most of the plans for imminent closed-door restarts. UEFA meets on Thursday, April 23. It’ll be interesting to see how many leagues make it to Friday.

Foundational texts: Brazil 0-3 France

It wasn’t the greatest World Cup final of all time. But few games can beat the 1998 final for pre-game intrigue, confusion and chaos. First Ronaldo wasn’t playing: Edmundo was on the teamsheet. And then, all of a sudden, he was back in! A new teamsheet appeared, with the world’s most exciting forward in his rightful place, and all was well.

Then the game happened and, while Ronaldo was definitely playing, he was also definitely not playing in any real sense. On the field, all the way off his game. He was a catatonic presence, a filled shirt. It was a sad and confusing sight, made all the sadder in comparison to the giddy vivacity with which he usually played, and for which the whole world was waiting.

He got his redemption four years later. But what was interesting about that moment, about the contradictory teamsheets and the general confusion, was the fevered rush of conspiracy that erupted afterwards. Something weird had happened, which demanded a weird explanation. Had Ronaldo had a fit? A bad reaction to an injection? Had Nike forced Brazil to pick their most marketable player over one that couldn’t move as many shirts, but could move his legs?

It was as though reality had cracked open, just a little, and we’d been permitted a glimpse at another reality, working under different rules and presumptions. One where football was determined not by silly things like “fitness” and “mobility,” but by hidden vectors of power; where obviously wrong decisions were made for reasons we could never be permitted to understand. And The Matrix wouldn’t even come out for another nine months.

A certain paranoia is healthy, perhaps mandatory, for anybody that takes sport even a little bit seriously. Sports frequently make it seem like the universe is conspiring against you, even if nobody else is.

But the idea of more specific conspiracies under the surface of sport is a persistent one. Even the most hard-headed ultra-rationalist among us has succumbed, at some point, to the forbidden knowledge. This referee hates us. All the referees hate us. We haven’t had a penalty all season. Look at our fixture list. Look at theirs. Same as last season. Of course you know why he joined them, right?

Perhaps this is all a coping mechanism, a way of reconciling the fact of our team’s inadequacy with the unfortunate centrality of that team to our identity, our happiness, our comfortable passage through the universe. Easier to relax into the belief that a referee hates you than confront the reality that this lot, your lot, are bobbins. At the very least, it softens the blow.

Yet an inconvenient number of the conspiracies turn out to be true, or at least true-ish. If the West Germany team that beat Hungary in the 1954 World Cup were only taking vitamin C, it’s a little odd they chose to inject it. Anderlecht were playing with 12 against Nottingham Forest. And there are more, many more, some proved and some just known deep down in the gut.

The preeminent Ronaldo conspiracy — that pressure from Nike had either caused Ronaldo’s fit, or led to his selection while obviously unfit — speaks to its moment. France 98 was the company’s first tournament as Brazil’s kit manufacturer and more general partner. The advert that accompanied the tournament, Brazil’s stars goofing around in an airport, is still remembered today. The advert starts and ends with Ronaldo.

A Brazilian congressional inquiry followed the match, led by communist congressman Aldo Rebelo, who saw his fight as one of “the preservation of national identity in the face of globalisation.” He told Alex Bellos, author of Futebol, he was inspired by the sight of a protestor holding a Brazil flag — with the words ‘Order and Progress’ replaced with ‘Nike’ — being confronted by a security guard from the Brazilian football federation.

His inquiry didn’t find any evidence that Nike had been up to anything, or that Ronaldo’s dropping and un-dropping was anything other than wildly miserable management. It did, however, find evidence that Brazil’s footballing institutions were riddled with corruption, nepotism, venality, greed, fraud, embezzlement and basically anything else you can imagine. Football sits at the intersection of money and passion, and that is a fertile place for mischief and suspicion.

And the fear that lay behind the conspiracy rang true then, and still does now. After all, the allegation, in the abstract, was that football at the highest and greatest level had become corrupted in a new and exciting way. That the game was being driven by marketing and sponsorship; that these partnerships were skewed in entirely the wrong way.

Which seems almost quaint, 22 years later, as we sit in lockdown sipping our ice cold Gazprom and waiting for the television companies to bankrupt any football league that fails to complete its season. Sure, the details might have been wrong. But we nailed the bigger picture.

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

2020: The Year That ALMOST Saved Culture

CONTENT WARNING: Culture is fucked; COVID and death; cocaine and deceased hookers. You know, the usual.

So, before COVID rocked up and basically fucked everything, 2020 looked like it might be the year that legitimately saved cinematic (and potentially televisual) culture. For years- and I mean insufferable fucking years- big genre-oriented studios (both cinematic and televised) ignored long-time fans and established fan-bases in order to cater to a more mainstream audience with less abtruse, specific tastes. Ghostbusters 2016 thought that it could get away with sucking the wit and surprisingly downbeat verbal, character-driven humour out of the franchise, leaving only the slapstick shell with a lazy, gender-flipped gimmick to draw dipshits in like the dangling light on a deep sea angler fish. Star Trek: Discovery moved in the opposite direction, taking an earnest, hopeful series with a vast ensemble cast and tightening the focus around one bell-end while everyone bickered like fuckwits in the background in a bid to create a more pointlessly fraught mood that low-brow angst-havers could relate to. Hellboy 2019 traded touching, likeable characters and a world that balanced Lovecraftian darkness with off-the-cuff whimsy for overblown spectacle and flat characters (made worse by the fact the film purported to be truer to the original comics but had clearly missed the point). And you know what, I’m still in the camp that says the Disney-era Star Wars films were a pretentious waste of time that shat on the legacy of the original just as badly as the fucking awful prequels.

However, perhaps the saddest on-screen failure of the last few years was Justice League. Fuck. Justice League should have been great. A lot of people hated the darker, grimier take of the Snyder-helmed Man of Steel/ Batman v Superman/ etc early DCEU, but I- and a large, loyal fanbase besides- absolutely loved it. It was great to see a version of the superhero genre that played so confidently with the real-world consequences of superpowers and the concept of modern mythology. And then poor old Snyder couldn’t finish Justice League, because he suffered a bereavement and the studio took the opportunity to rope Joss Whedon into the project because he’s a more accessible, mainstream director (no offence to Whedon, incidentally- I actually love his work on his own fucking projects: he just shouldn’t have been near this one). The studio’s thinking seemed to be that getting A LOT OF MONEY from a loyal fanbase of die-hard supporters wasn’t sufficient and they’d rather have ALL THE MONEY IN THE WORLD, courtesy of a vast sea of mainstream consumers. Predictably, the film was a tonally-inconsistent mess and didn’t even make a lot of money, because (unlike die-hard fans) mainstream film-goers are flighty culture-hussies with no staying power who are easily distracted by every shiny object to bounce through their peripheral vision. The whole DCEU was forced to re-tool its direction and we got some good films out of it (most notably Shazam!, which just kicked a million times more arse than it had any right to), but the dream of an actual mature, nuanced, mythically-resonant superhero project with big cinema bucks behind it died on the vine.

Bascially, between the shitty virtue-signalling of gender-flipped sci-fi reboots, the over-the-top edgelord grimwashing of niche, charming little fantasies and the neutering of genuinely dark and complex budding superhero universes, the genre landscape at the end of 2019 was a fucking wasteland populated by horrible, poorly-conceived mutant franchises with terminally damaged DNA and no real sense of unique identity. Even the Terminator series finally seemed to be dying, and after so many bad movies and comebacks, I think we’d all just assumed that one was unkillable. Culturally, us nerds were in the shit. It was the eleventh hour and the cavalry weren’t coming.

Then something remarkable and quite possibly unprecedented happened. The big money folks behind the major studios stopped acting like the arrogant, charmless, talentless fuckwads that they are and instead (let jaws drop across the world) actually listened to fans! Not ‘audiences’, in that horribly amorphous and meaningless sense of the word, but the actual fucking fans. The studio bosses actually stopped snorting cocaine off of dead hookers for a minute and took the time to make a good decision. It started, rather grandly, with a sequel to a new Ghostbusters film... except this one wasn’t going to be a reboot or a retelling with a more air-headed script and a cast more palatable to modern audiences. Instead, it was to be a sequel to the original 80s films that specifically erased the 2016 reboot and refocused on characters who- while updated for the modern world- could still be more closely identified with the fans who loved the originals than whatever insane what-stupid-people-want checklist the 2016 berks were working from.

Other smaller things were happening at around the same time. Notably, towards the end of 2019, a truly lovely ten-year-old zombie comedy called Zombieland got a long overdue sequel that was entirely in the spirit of the original with no ridiculous attempt to bring it up-to-date, while adverts for the next installment of the semi-dormant Kingsman series started cropping up at the beginning of 2020. As isolated incidents, these things were just flashes in the pan: little positives in a cultural landscape of mind-squanching negativity. Contextualised by the arrival of Ghostbusters: Afterlife, they pointed towards a genre film industry that realised (at least on some level) something had gone terribly, terribly wrong and was edging its way back to a previous era of film-making from before everything when terribly, terribly wrong.

Then, the icing on the cake: the release of the Justice League Snyder Cut was finally announced. Zacky-boy was going to be allowed to finish his own fucking film (albeit, probably, in the form of a six-part miniseries) and the superhero genre was going to gain, at the very least, a last hoorah for the abortive darker-mythic project started in Man of Steel and, at the very most, a whole new timeline to keep that dream alive. I can’t really express my feelings on The Snyder Cut in a single paragraph- I’m gonna need to take a whole blog entry for that one, which I will do, soon. Suffice it to say, I was a very happy bunny.

Then COVID happened. 2020 was supposed to be the year to fix everything- or at least, all the things that could be fixed (Doctor Who was still broken beyond repair and, outside of the cultural sphere, the world was still fucked, with an upper class twit in 10 Downing Street and an evil cheesy whatsit in the Whitehouse). But, with cinemas closing and the production of new cultural artefacts getting bottlenecked by the sudden demobilisation of content creators, the high hopes that 2020 brought with it started to evaporate.

Britain is just now coming out of Lockdown (too early to be safe, by the way- did I mention we have a twit for a Prime Minister?) and that could be... interesting. You see, while coming out of Lockdown midway through the year before a vaccine is ready might be a very bad thing for humans, it could be a pretty good thing for culture, because it gives us time to play catch-up. There’s still time to release the films and miniseries that we need to start healing the liminal dustbowl that genre fiction has become. Here’s hoping that we can still salvage that at least. I mean, it’s no substitute for saveing actual humans from the crisis, but the situation we have is the situation we have and we might as well make the best of it. Roll on the fucking Snyder Cut.

#Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer

[ccorinnef]

Sketchbook Flipthrough: Dec 19 - Jun 20

One of the creative practices I have developed is to work in my sketchbook for one hour every day. It seems that the key to my personal creativity is consistency rather than quality. I have gone through so many sketchbooks in my developing career as an artist but this is the very first one that I have fully completed. I worked in this Seawhite of Brighton A5 sketchbook from December 2019 to June 2020.

This first page I was attempting to finish up my self-made Inktober prompts by drawing a Garden Chafer. I don't think I really did it justice but it got me past the dilemma of the first blank page. On the next page I've drawn a mandala - I love drawing mandalas to practice symmetry and linework.

This next drawing was for a Christmas present for my partner; it is one of his favourite Warhammer characters: The Green Knight. The composition of this piece was taken directly from the reference picture I had from a Warhammer book but I drew it in my style of ink illustration with a bold triangle frame. Next to this I tried my hand at some faux calligraphy by inking the words "lose hate not weight." This is a message that became a personal mantra in the post-Christmas and New Year diet culture frenzy that is so overwhelming and all-consuming.

This collection of small drawings is titled "Some things I found while walking the dog." It features some winter plants and a lot of litter as well as a turnip that had washed up with the recent floods, which my dog thought was the best ball ever.

This spread has a very simplified not-quite pattern of houses of different designs. I was just playing with different shapes and patterns to create the buildings and their features. Beside this we have a baby Yoda - can you tell we started the year watching the Mandalorian?

Next, I've drawn a very fine lined rendition of the Wallace Monument in Stirling - this one may become a print in the near future, I am as yet undecided. On the opposite page I've drawn another mandala, this time taking up the entire page. I love practicing my linework and incorporating more bold black elements is something I am going to work with more going forwards.

This is a random doodle page - I tend to have my sketchbook out on the counter while volunteering with Made In Stirling so I can doodle in between customers when it is quiet. I like to do these random shapes of lines to practice getting the flow and ease of specific line styles more natural. The drawing beside this is of Stirling Castle - this one is definitely going to become a print in my collection soon! I just love the combination of the semi circle and the trees.

On the next spread, I've done a simplified drawing of a local building - I use local estate agents pictures as reference images as they tend to take really good building pictures! The next drawing was another style I have really started to gravitate towards. It's a kind of line practice except in the style of a topographic map. I had great fun doing this and they'll definitely pop up in my sketchbook practices regularly in the future.

This drawing was one of the ones I did while idly watching TV to stop myself from fidgeting. It's just a collection of tiny leaves that look as though they are drifting slowly in the sky. On the opposite page is a weird lined abstract shape thing - I don't particularly like it, but bad art is just as important to the creative process as good art.

This next spread is another that I don't particularly like. On the left, I've drawn a group of tree shapes in a similar vein to the not-quite house pattern. On the right is an attempt at a more structured architectural drawing of a fancy modern style house. You can tell I got fed up of it by the time I got to the shading.

This next piece is actually my first ever drawing from life. I took a life drawing class at my local college at the start of the year to push my boundaries a bit. I just glued it into my sketchbook after class and folded it so it would fit properly. It was drawn in charcoal and I didn't use any setting spray on it so it has smudged a little bit. Beside this is a tiny collection of baby animals which I think I drew at one of the Community Creative Club meets. I will never not love baby hedgehogs - they are the cutest thing on this planet.

Next up, I've got a collection of the local birdlife. These are all birds that I have seen around my home and tried to identify as best as possible. The heron, which I had mentally named Herman and saw every morning, unfortunately died after being caught in the floods of the start of this year. I have since seen another heron take its place in the misty mornings. This spring it was a delight to watch the swan and duck families grow up - we saw the same goosander family almost every day and took great delight in witnessing the mum duck diving under the ducklings and teaching them how to swim and forage.

This drawing is another random linework practice piece - it's kind of noodly. On the right is a drawing of Mooncake from Final Space which we were watching at the time. Chookity Pok!

This is another simplified building drawing using local estate agents' pictures as reference images. Beside this, is another drawing from my life drawing class. In this activity I thouroughly misunderstood the instructions so everyone else in the class ended up with tiny drawings on the side of their bigger collaborative pieces.

Next, we have another topographic style line drawing but a lot more simplified, as well as one of the first of my portraiture practices for the 100 Heads Challenge.

This two page spread is another piece from my life drawing class - this time I drew with materials more familiar to me, using white ink to add highlights and make the figure pop out from the brown of the paper.

On the next pages I've drawn a leafy plant and a Totoro - this was when Netflix started adding Studio Ghibli to its catalogue.

This next drawing is another that I don't particularly like, I think I just got the composition not quite right. It's a kind of composite of a few different trees that formed the view out of our cabin window on our February holiday to Aviemore. Beside this I've drawn a collection of simple fine line mushrooms.

The next page is an attempt at illustrating a map of an imaginary town - I have mixed feelings about it. On the opposite page is an aimless doodle of tiny flowers, for no particular reason.

Next is a page of random tiny doodles which almost looks like a (really bad) tattoo flash sheet. On the right I've drawn a self-portrait.

Next is almost a cartoon board but made up of intricate food illustration. I wanted to really test my textures with ink in this piece to try and capture a sense of likeness of the food items. Also, a pine cone. I have a weird obsession with pine cones.

On the left is a kind of spiderweb doodle which was probably another line work practice. On the right is another piece from life drawing class which I've just glued in so as to keep a memento of my progress.

This drawing is yet another one from life drawing class where I used different colours of ink pens to create depth and shadows in the model. Beside this is a drawing of a monument in Edinburgh called the Dugald Stewart Monument.

Another piece from my life drawing class is followed by a rough sketch of the Falkirk Kelpies.

The next two pages are made up of another piece from life drawing class - I like the way I've used different shades of ink to add highlight and lowlight to the figure.

Here is a monument in my typical style, this one is a part of Glasgow University. And next to this is another very simplified topography style map.

This spread features more monuments of Glasgow - the Duke of Wellington Statue (complete with cone hat, obviously) and the Clyde Auditorium. Both of which will become prints before long.

These next drawings are of another topographic map and the Falkirk Kelpies. These Kelpies took me about two weeks to draw in total because there are just so many intricate details.

Up next is a couple more monuments, the Stirling Robert the Bruce statue, and Edinburgh's Greyfriars Bobby.

The next drawing is another in my usual style of Castle Stalker. I love how this one turned out and it will definitely be in my shop soon! Beside this is an attempt at drawing a building from the Royal Mile in Edinburgh - I don't think it turned out very well, I got some of the angles of walls a bit wrong.

This next page features a simple drawing of a piece of hawthorn blossom that I found earlier this year. Beside this is a cute little Japanese building which I've coloured in with pencils. I was inspired to draw this from watching Midnight Diner on Netflix.

This painting was one of the first that I did during lockdown - it's of some daffodils that smudged a wee bit. On the right is an ink illustration of St Andrew's Cathedral, which also has some smudged daffodil paint.

This spread includes a yin and yang mandala and another colour pencil Japanese style house.

This is some more linework practice. On the left is a drawing of some wintery cow parsley stalks. On the right is some simple lined circles - I really like how when they cross over each other it appears like cross hatching.

This next page was inspired by watching Chris Riddell's IGTV's during lockdown. Beside this is a fuzzy bumble butt grazing on a thistle.

These next two drawings are my first tentative steps into character design - when I'm learning something new I tend to take inspiration from artists that already work in a particular way so that I might pick up some of their tricks along the way.

The next spread features another tiny building and an adorable mouse peeking out of a tulip flower.

Next is another practice of character drawing and an attempt at a fairytale style house, I didn't get the proportions quite right unfortunately.

On the left is a drawing of a treehouse which looks like an amazing place to live. On the right is an illustration of Fenton Tower - you might recognise it as Archie's humble abode from Balamory.

Next is another couple of spaghetti like line practices. I love playing with flow and texture within linework.

This drawing is a local building, the reference picture came from estate agents’ images. Beside this is some triangular line practice with the crossing over crosshatching again.

This is an illustration in my usual style of Dunnottar Castle - it will soon be in my avaible print collection. Next to this is an ink and watercolour drawing of a building from Culross, Fife where they have very distinctive white washed walls and bright brick edging.

This is another spread of linework practice - this time with squares and another topographic map.

This is a funky building I found online and wanted to draw - it's wedged between two sheer cliff faces! Next to this is a random page of scraps really. I started trying to draw some fairytale buildings before abandoning that idea and splashing some watercolour over the page instead. I then added this small watercolour painting of Kate from @kateshappinessjourney, which I tried to paint with a colour palette similar to Fran Menses.

These are two paintings of tiny country cottages done in ink and watercolour. I really enjoyed doing these and will probably do more going forward. Beside this is another bumble butt on a flower.

This is another Studio Ghibli inspired drawing and some character design practice. On the right is a couple more tiny watercolour cottages.

This page is has a random drawing from a reference on Instagram of a person wrapped up in a blanket along with a quote that reads: "I have planted worth, beneath my skin, in all the places, you made me doubt." Beside this is a practice loose watercolour painting of some flowers and leaves in a vase. It's not my usual style but I like to practice using watercolour regularly so that I can continue to develop my skills.

Next up is a collection of tiny drawings taken from scrolling through Instagram - I do this particularly when I want to draw but don't have a specific subject in mind. On the right hand side is a little landscape painting in gouache. I'm still learning how to use this medium so I don't expect masterpieces any time soon!

This is another weird building drawing - it did not turn out how I had envisioned so I am quite disappointed with it. On the adjoining page is a Draw This In Your Style challenge from @moonylux on Instagram. Its a very dainty and glamourous looking mermaid that I quite enjoyed drawing.

Here are some more gouache painting practices of some Scottish landscapes. I really like how my use of brushstrokes makes the paintings more vibrant and alive. Beside this is a little line drawing practice of some ocean waves.

This next drawing is another bumble butt on a flower. I think I might turn these into a print. On the right is a tiny collection of watercolour snails being adorable and curious creatures. I'm low-key obsessed with snails - I always move them from the path after the rain so they don't get stood on. I think these paintings could do with another layer of paint to increase the saturation of the colours.

This is an ink drawing of a Jackalope. I wish I could have one as a pet because they are so freaking cute. On the other side of this spread is another gouache practice piece - this one of a pink flower on a dark blue background.

This is another in my series of mythological creature illustrations. It's a fairy based off of the flower fairy drawings by Cicely Mary Barker in her books. Next to this is my first attempt at creating a repeating pattern for Minnie Small's #minniemission. It did not go well but I like to keep the scraps of my ideas.

This is a series of sketches for a commission for The Kitchen at 44. I often test out ideas in my sketchbook - sometimes completing the whole commission in my sketchbook and other times, as in this case, transferring the drawings over to something more fit-for-purpose (like watercolour paper).

Here is another of the great Scottish mythological creatures - this one is a Kelpie which features in stories across the country. Beside this I've done another gouache practice, of yet another landscape... I miss my studio and my acrylic paints a lot, but I am having great fun learning to use a new medium!

This is an illustration of a bean-nighe, or washer woman, who foretells death when she is seen washing the bloodied clothes of the people who are about to die. She also has breasts so saggy and cumbersome that she throws them over her shoulders to keep them out the way while she works. Next to this is a drawing of a building inspired by Ian Mcque's incredibly intricate illustrations.

This next drawing is another mythological creature illustration - this one is an uilbheist of Orkney and Shetland legend. This three headed sea serpent protects the islands from danger. On the right, is a little gouache seascape study. I really like how this one turned out.

This is another gouache study - I don't like how this one turned out much but there are tiny elements of this piece that I like. Beside this is some portrait practices for the 100 Heads Challenge - the challenge is to do 100 Heads in 10 days but that is way too difficult for me to achieve, so I just practice some here and there when I want to draw something different.

This is an illustration of a Boobrie, another of Scotland's mythological creatures. Beside this is some more portrait practice. I don't think I did these ones very well - but that is exactly why it is called a practice.

Here is a random piece of paper that I was testing pens on when decluttering. Over the top of it I've just drawn a quick flower doodle. Next to this is a collection of some of the Black Lives Matter protestors from June. Please keep this movement alive, listen and learn as much as possible. Only we can make the future better.

This next drawing is a commission I did for a friend who is about to embark on her probation year as an English teacher and wanted some literary themed illustrations to make signposts for her classroom. They are Narnia, Desire St, and East Egg, since they are some of her favourite stories. Beside this, on the right, is a collection of random shapes drawn with a highlighter and then turned into cartoony people. This kind of drawing practice really pushes you to look at shapes in a different way.

Here is some more portrait practices. I'm quite pleased with these. Next to this is some random leafy doodles, just for the hell of it.

This is another simplified house using a reference image from local estate agents. Beside this is another topographic map style linework practice.

Here is a creature by Karolina Plutowska from the book 'Sketching from the Imagination: Creatures and Monsters.' Practicing drawing like this helps me learn new ways of approaching illustration that I might not have considered before. Of course, I would never seek to claim any kind of profit or credit for drawings like these since they are based on someone else's artwork. On the right, is some more portrait practices which I never got around to inking. The pencil lines are very faint but you can see that I use a lot of shapes and lines to get the proportions right and help map out the whole page before I ink.

And this very last spread consists of another creature drawing from the book 'Sketching from the Imagination.' It is an illustration by Ksenia Bakhareva which I am particularly fond of. On the very last page of this sketchbook I've stuck in the finished repeating pattern that I made for Minnie Small's #minniemission. I am really pleased with how this piece came out and I can't wait to turn it into something fun!

And there you have it! That is the entire contents of my last sketchbook - dated from December 2019 to June 2020. It was been a wild few months but I've grown a lot as a person and as an artist, as can be seen from my sketchbook progression.

I hope you enjoyed taking a look inside my sketchbook. I use it basically as a place to store all of my art and treat each page as a new opportunity to practice my skills and talents. Not everything you create has to be a masterpiece but the act of practicing your skills every day will get you so much more creative than you ever thought possible .

#sketchbook #art skills #art #artwork #creative

[laurelkrugerr]

Two things you need to turn PPC campaigns into winners

How do you set yourself apart in PPC when Google and Microsoft are continually adding more automated capabilities that effectively level the playing field? We believe there are a few critical factors that can tip the scales back to your advantage: Better strategy and better execution, tied together with an awesome process.

On the surface, these factors may seem like common sense, “Business 101” tactics, but the real challenge comes into play when businesses attempt to build the processes that closely tie strategy to execution. We believe that companies with a great process will be the ones best positioned to deliver successful results. When your process enables you to be nimble and adapt to new strategies quickly, and you can quickly get your whole team to shift into execution mode on the new strategy without dropping balls left and right, that’s when you win.

Business case study: Why process matters

Before we share how to do this specifically in search marketing agency and PPC, let’s take a look at a company outside our industry that exemplifies these principles: Starbucks. Nobody can argue the fact that Starbucks is the world’s most successful coffee chain. But few would argue that Starbucks has the world’s best coffee. So how did they turn an average product into a roaring success? 

Beyond creating memorable experiences, Starbucks has orchestrated precise, repeatable processes that make people want to come back time and again. 

Starbucks even shaped the way customers specified their orders, right down to the cadence and actual sequence of how people verbalize their order. Whether you are at a Starbucks in Seattle or Singapore or Sydney, the many individual tasks and processes from sourcing and distribution to how customers place orders to how baristas make and serve the coffee have been carefully crafted and perfected. Every task defined, assigned, and perfected for flawless repeatability. 

Now let’s apply some of these principles to our own industry.

Two ways to win: Spend more time or stick to a process

First, let’s get something out of the way. If you want the absolute best PPC results, and you never want your ad shown for a query of dubious relevance due to a weird close variant, it will take a LOT of time. If you are fortunate enough to have hours of free time every week, you can probably stop reading now. But if you’re like most of us, you need to balance time with performance. A good strategy with a solid execution (even if neither is the best), can still produce superior results compared to a scenario where there is a disconnect between the two elements and the best strategy is poorly executed, or a bad strategy is executed flawlessly.

Problems that prevent success in PPC

There are a few common issues we see that hamper PPC campaigns from delivering their full potential:

Strategies are too rigid, forcing you to continue down a path you know is no longer the best one. It’s a bit like knowing you are running toward a cliff, but can’t do anything about it.

You build the wrong foundation and, as a result, find yourself unable to build on it when needed. Instead you’re forced to rebuild, which leads to wasted time and cost.

Account management and optimization are haphazard. Distributed teams didn’t read the memo or simply decide to branch off from what the PPC lead at the main office decided.

Let’s address each of these pitfalls and some ways to address them. Hint, if you’re short on time, Optmyzr has a solution called Account Blueprints and our team would be happy to walk you through how it works.

Strategies need to evolve

Digital marketing agency is one of the fastest evolving industries around. Google Ads alone launched 79 new changes in 2019. And that’s not counting all the changes from Microsoft Advertising, Facebook Ads, or Amazon Ads. With every change, PPC pros must quickly recalibrate strategy. 

True, some changes like updates to the Ads Editor simply allow advertisers to be more efficient when implementing existing strategies. But the majority of changes Google mentions on its  launch blog are the kind that ask us to take stock of our performance and decide whether we need to try something new, such as a new ad extension, new ad format, or new bidding strategy.

Experimentation can be easiest if you’re a solo account manager, but it becomes more problematic when you need to make a decision on behalf of an entire team. Aligning multiple team members is critical when they are expected to change how they manage accounts virtually overnight.

Our advice is to build your team structure and your management process with the expectation that strategies will need to be changed several times each year.

If you use a PPC tool like Optmyzr that allows you to productize your own strategy (through our Rule Engine for example), you’ll find yourself more likely to quickly adapt newer and better strategies when you know your team will be able to follow them to a “T.” 

A blueprint ensures the right foundation

In the construction business, blueprints are the foundational tool that allow builders to deal with massive projects subject to major changes and instructions that need to be followed.  If everyone follows the blueprint, a great building results. If everyone builds from memory, you’ll likely find stairs leading nowhere and doors that open onto drop offs. 

Optmyzr has now created Account Blueprints for PPC accounts. An Account Blueprint contains tasks that include owners and due dates. Rather than being a generic project management tool, it is deeply integrated with Optmyzr’s capabilities for optimization, insights, and reports. In addition, it can also include a wide range of tasks usually done outside Optmyzr. 

Just as in architecture, a blueprint in PPC allows the creation of a great account that is well structured, and follows the principles of the agreed-upon strategy. 

An intuitive step-by-step wizard simplifies the creation of Account Blueprints. Screenshot from Optmyzr.com

If you’re an agency, multiple Account Blueprints will likely be essential. An ecommerce account is much different than a lead gen account, for example. But there’s also going to be a difference between a tier-1 client who spends a large amount of money with your agency and a tier-3 client who has bought your lowest retainer package. The tier-1 client’s account will likely be more elaborate, because you’ll have the resources (time and tools) to work with a more complex account structure compared to a resource-constrained account. The latter is better served with a simpler structure.

A key benefit in Optmyzr’s Account Blueprints is the ability to create as many blueprints as needed for the types of accounts you manage and then dynamically assign these to new accounts that are onboarded.

A maintenance schedule keeps things in shape

The final issue that prevents some PPC teams from delivering the best results is inconsistent maintenance and optimization after the account has been created with the perfect blueprint.

Here are some typical tasks confronting PPC pros on a daily basis:

Monitoring budgets to identify accounts that are overspending or underspending.

Auditing PPC accounts to understand how to win more traffic, where to test ads, etc.

Analyzing search queries to add new keywords and negative keywords.

Reducing bids on keywords with high CPA but no conversions via manual bidding.

Optimizing ad group-level targets for CPA and ROAS when using Smart Bidding.

Improving quality score and allocating budgets to high-performing campaigns.

Adding granular bid adjustments based on time of day, geography, and other variables. 

Even the most spectacular and complex buildings need a tremendous amount of upkeep to stay that way. It’s no different with PPC accounts, especially when we again consider that the best strategy may be evolving all the time.

Account Blueprints from Optmyzr enable teams to consistently deliver the work related to account upkeep. Tasks can be set to be recurring. And task owners are defined through account roles, which means it’s easy to reassign tasks while a team member is on vacation or after they leave the team.

Conclusion

Starbucks architected its groundbreaking success with extraordinary precision and adherence to process. Their strength in strategy and execution made it possible to change the way millions of people consumed their daily beverage of choice. Others have since effectively mimicked Starbucks’ general blueprint for success to stake their own claims in the coffee wars. 

Optmyzr Blueprints can do the same for your business. Design your success. Drive repeatable processes. Be strategic, put the plan into an Account Blueprint, and feel secure that the tactical work will be taken care of by the right people at the right time. 

Of course, we’re available to talk about how Blueprints can help drive your success when you are ready to architect your own breakthrough. Having the right tools at your disposal to drive exceptional search marketing agency programs can help turn challenging times into opportunity for 2020 and beyond. 

To help you with account management during COVID-19, we’ve created a downloadable post-lockdown PPC checklist featuring action items to help you plan, optimize, and track campaigns as businesses reopen.

Get the post-covid lockdown PPC checklist from Optmyzr here.

All of these items can be planned and automated through Optmyzr and Account Blueprints. If we can be of help, write to us at [email protected] and we’ll be delighted to assist you.

About The Author

Optmyzr’s PPC management platform provides intelligent optimization suggestions that help advertisers across the world manage their online advertising more effectively. Optmyzr connects with Google Ads, Microsoft Ads, Amazon Ads, Facebook Ads, Google Analytics, Google Merchant Center, Google Sheets, and SA360. The company was founded by former Google AdWords executives. The Optmyzr PPC suite includes over 30 tools to improve Quality Score, manage manual and automated bids, find new keywords, A/B test ads, build new campaigns, manage placements, automate budgets, and automate reports. Optmyzr was named best PPC management software at the US Search Awards in 2015 and 2018 and at the UK Search Awards in 2019.

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source http://www.scpie.org/two-things-you-need-to-turn-ppc-campaigns-into-winners/ source https://scpie1.blogspot.com/2020/07/two-things-you-need-to-turn-ppc.html