#“wow is this impressionist art. interesting.”

[caboosie]

ok im going to liveblog sestiny now. im on the cutscene righr after final mission. was that bondage in relation to the darkness. The ghost scene reminded me if that one krill scene from the movie. Im a krillion in one. who is this astronaut ass bitch.

[eltanin0]

Haven't done this in a while. So here comes the mandatory pic of this bastard of a car.

Hungarian painter Színyei Merse Pál who was active during the impressionist artmovement (even tho he technically can not be considered one). Once in the later stages of his carrier he exhibited in Künstlerhaus (1883). One of his paintings titled Skylark received a whole lot of negative criticism.

This was for multiple reasons but most impotantly people thought that the colors were way too strong, lnotably the grass was considered to be too vibrant and unrealistic. He reacted by getting blocks of grass from outside and placing them right under the painting to show that it was accurate.

that is a very comfy looking car.

and wow, even back then people were hating. they really didnt like his art because it was too vibrant? i mean his response was great, a solid fuck you to the doubters. but still, that's such a nitpicky thing to get hung up on.

these asks are always interesting to read. you should do more of these. unfortunately i dont have any cool knowledge to share with you, but still thanks for the ask.

[alfalfascouting]

My Friend is an Amazing Artist and I Don't Know How to Talk About Art! 😰 Help??

No need to fear. Most of us art folk don't expect non-art folk to tell us that you can feel the echoes of impressionist thinking or that we have great economy of line. Some of us might not even know what to do with a statement like that. We just made something cool and we wanna share it with you.

So, if you're floundering trying to think of something to say, here's a buffet of examples for you. Some artists might like some of these more than others. You might like some of them more than others. They're food for thought; get thinking.

Talk about the Subject

And don't be afraid to state the obvious! We work hard to make the characters recognizable, to make the fabric look like it's caught in a breeze, to frame a city so that it looks alive. A great start is recognizing what you see.

Do you know the person, creature, place, or thing in the art?

"Hey, I remember you talking about him!"

"That's beautiful, what kind of bird is that?"

"That is the most haunted castle I've ever seen."

Do you know them REALLY well?

"Oh my god, that's my character! I love the way you did their hair!"

"That was one of my favorite places, growing up. I think you really got what I liked about it."

"I remember when that happened, in the story. When they were looking up through the fire and the clouds and it felt like they weren't going to make it, like... damn."

Is something happening in the art?

"Ough, that looks super painful."

"Wow, it's almost like she's flying. Like she could dance right off the paper."

"Now I know that when you said explosion, you meant literally all of it."

Attention to details

"Did you design this outfit for them? It looks awesome."

"It's so spiky. Menacing. Like it's really gonna eat you."

"I'm always amazed by how well you draw hands."

Talk about the Methods & Medium

You don't need to know fancy art words to do this. You just need to dig a little deeper into how they made it and how it turned out.

Recognizing style

"Your lines are always so smooth and graceful."

"The texture of this is really interesting, like waxy and crumbling..."

"I love the way your art is so bright and intense, all glitched out."

Some open-ended questions

"How do you get the colors to turn out this way?"

"You said you make these all out of found materials, so, how do you choose which ones to use?"

"How long does it take you to make these?"

"Did you do a lot of planning for this, or did you make it up as you went along? (And if planned, what do the plans look like?)"

"Can you tell me more about how you decided to make this? Were you inspired by anything?"

Talk about Your Experience

There's a reason we showed you, and it's usually because we thought you in particular would get something out of this artwork. So what are you getting?

How do you feel?

"Seeing them together makes me really happy. All is right with the world."

"I don't know what it is about it, but it feels really sharp, like it could burn me if I get too close."

"It looks so cold and quiet, like the middle of winter in the middle of nowhere."

"This is one of those feelings that you can't really describe in words, and I didn't think anybody would be able to put it down on paper, either, but you did it."

What are you thinking about?

"All those little things on the shelf make me think of traveling around the world and getting souvenirs from each place."

"I wish I could live in your fantasy forest."

"This makes me think of some of the dark times in my life, too. But I got through it. And we'll get through it."

"Honestly, your drawings of cats always make me want to go pick up my cat even though I just talked to her 2 minutes ago. They're that fluffy."

"Every time you send me one of these I just can't get over how incredible all of it is, and I want to point at every single thing and wave my arms around and babble nonsense until you understand just how excited I am that this is sitting in front of me right now and you made it."

In Conclusion

I found a lot of funny public domain pictures of people looking at (or pointing at) art and now that's your problem.

Also, feel free to share your own tips on talking about art for non-art people.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary318

8/2-3/24

friday - saturday

listening to jpop right now.

it is meg's album "step" and it's cute. pretty often though sometimes songs on jpop records feel like nothing, until the big ones come. obv there's groups where this is not an issue, other times it's more pronounced, but sometimes the albums w/ peaks and valleys in that way have really special songs lodged in them, or they feel that way by their nature i guess.

i really like the synths on this album... really good to hear stuff like this right now, maybe i should let myself make some more "regular" sounding synths or something... we'll see.

the art in the album is super cute, her outfits are awesome:

i really love all of these looks... i need some colored tights i think.

and wow, look at this album art for one of her later albums:

i really love this... i do wanna do more weird pattern-y eye-hurty stuff. reminds me a lot of black dice.

it's fun seeing stuff on here circulate w/ tags like "eye strain", all the pleasure of glistening / shimmering / oscillating noise and its spread, i've always liked that kind of intensity where it's kind of asking something of you, as you stare at it, but it's also kind of apathetic to you, it simply is that odd and excessive, at least that's how it feels when i come to it, maybe part of why i like it is something to do with nature documentaries and all the closeup shots of things too detailed and strange, magnifications, patterns made evident, maybe it does make sense, i used to spend so much time looking at bugs which were trying to pattern themselves so animals wouldn't eat them or would ignore them, being able to see them in the noise, or make the noise out of them, and then other animals as well, reptile scales, and then my stepsisters and all the garish stuff they adorned their rooms with. an interesting lineage there in things which are difficult to look at, or people say are difficult to look at but for me they're really nice.

oh videogames too, and crts too probably, sticking my face too close, the white noise, that kinda thing... maybe an early introduction to the impressionists also? the smeary/blurriness, excess of color and stippling, my mom was eager to show me matisse, and then art class when i was in elementary school was similar. gaudiness as a kind of violent eruption, beyond kitsch really, these very odd things, over-vibrant, i didn't know it at the time but it was imparted with a kind of sexuality, i didn't really know what i was seeing for instance in how frida khalo painted but i absorbed it. very odd times. not that the point is that it's special that i like/know this or whatever it's just interesting to get any kinda vision on the lineage there of what makes me able to like this sort of stuff... the beatles even, their album art, when i was a kid that stuff meant a lot to me, their movies too.

anyway, i saw something funny today, someone added my current screenname to rym, hospitalterrorizer, as an artist. it is an artist name too... honestly though it feels less like a project and just a thing i like calling myself. anyway it's just funny, it's someone who i don't know at all i'm pretty sure, i wonder how they found it, and why they decided to put it in there. i suppose it's for the best that it is there cuz it might draw more people to the thing, but we'll see, to be honest i sorta doubt it... but that's just meeee...

now i am listening to john cale's paris 1919, i need to finish this tomorrow, cuz i am sleepy and i need to sleep now basically. my sleep is so fucked up #lol. and i need to get back to reading soon. i just spent all of today working on songs, one of them i need to go in and lower the master send reverb, and the other's got a lot of fun progress made, imo, i got some new plugins which makes things a bit easier on me i think... a lot of really fun distortion sounds in there, excited about having all of that to mess with, to see where it goessss,

so, with that: a song:

one of the best ever, i think, i really love this one,

and now:

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[neonphoenix]

Re: your "draw me like one of your french girls" post, I love to think that two days later Joey decides to paint a french impressionist portrait of him just to fuck with the joke

 Joey would show him and Dick would say, “Wow, that’s cool,” but internally have a meltdown because ???He just did that???What does it mean???Need to go talk to Donna.

And now I’m thinking about Joey’s art style, because the comics only really showed us generic portraits and landscapes, from what I remember. Tbf, he’s more of a hobbyist than a career artist, so that might change how much he screws around with his art.

Your French impressionist thing initially made me think Renoir, but I honestly think he might be a lot more like Degas. (For context, if people want that: Renoir tends to paint people existing in daily life, and I generally consider his paintings to be pretty still in comparison to Degas, who is the ballerina dude)

My Degas diagnosis might actually have basis in canon, but looking through some of the other examples of his work, I don’t feel like there’s much of a common thread. The writers probably didn’t put that much thought into it, so I may just be grasping at straws; also his paintings are kind of comic book art style by default, so you can’t really see brush strokes or anything.

It looks like he might be putting himself into this painting, which I think is interesting. Alternatively the writers are trying to give you a picture of him wooing women.

Sidenote: look at this dude just casually painting in his superheroing uniform.

He clearly does enough figure painting that it’s strange for him to deviate from it, although I do remember him painting a portrait for Donna and Terry, which could just indicate a flexibility in what he paints.

Anyways, this just turned into me rambling about Joey’s art style, so have that I guess.

[crocodilenialledfics]

You’re all I need (the air I breathe)

Two - in which Niall and Stella study, plans are made, and secrets are not shared 

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The love-at-first-sight, falling-too-fast, uni au that will make your heart ache (in a good way)

catch up here

“Is this seat taken?” A voice asked from across the table. 

Stella sat up, blinking as she adjusted to something other than the fine print of Faulkner. It was Niall. Stella smiled, shaking her head. 

“Faulkner,” he commented, sitting down across from her. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen asleep reading his stuff.”

“William just rolled over in his grave,” Stella laughed, eyebrows raising. “You can’t talk about him like that.”

“I would say I didn’t mean it, but it’d be a lie,” Niall chuckled, pulling his book bag onto his lap. “I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to ask you a favor- well I guess it’s not really a favor. A proposition, maybe- that didn’t sound like the right word either.”

“What is it?” Stella laughed, amused by his ramblings. 

“Well I’m in this art history class and I’m really not doing too well. The exams are really hard but our professor has given us extra credit opportunities,” he explained. “We can go to the museum and write a reflective paper. Was wondering if you wanted to come with me. I figured museums were right up your alley.”

“They are,” Stella nodded. Smiling she said, “I would love to go with you.”

“Aces,” Niall grinned. “We can go whenever you’re free.”

“What about this weekend?” Stella asked. “I work here in the evenings the next few days.”

“Saturday?” Niall asked. 

“Sounds good,” she nodded. 

Stella tried to fight the smile off of her face but the longer that Niall had his on his face, the harder it got. Until Niall laughed, looking away. Stella’s cheeks ached. 

The next few moments Niall got situated with his books in front of him. Stella read a little bit from her book but it was decided that Niall was a distraction. 

“You know anything about impressionist art?” Niall asked, eyes focused on the book in front of him. 

“I’m afraid not,” Stella mumbled, leaning on the table. 

“Me either,” he mumbled back, lifting his head to look at her. “I have an exam tomorrow. Think I’m gonna fail it.” 

“With that mindset, probably,” Stella agreed with a curt nod. 

Niall laughed, a loud one, much louder than probably what’s acceptable in a library. Stella couldn’t help her own laugh, one of surprise at the volume of his. 

“We’re in the library,” Stella emphasized, laughing along with him. 

Niall shook his head, containing his laughter. “Stop being funny, then.”

“Stop laughing like a crazy person,” Stella retorted, challenging him with her eyes. 

It was unfair, the chemistry they had. Stella thought it was a waste. Niall started telling her about the classes he was taking, asking about hers. It was the boring kind of conversation she had every time she met someone knew but listening to Niall was riveting. Maybe the most interesting thing she’d ever heard. 

Only when Niall’s stomach growled so loud that the walls nearly shook, did they leave. No homework was done. Niall didn’t study. He left knowing less about impressionists than he did when he walked in. That was all thanks to Stella and her infectious smile. 

Stella stood in the food line beside Niall, looking over the dinner options. It looked only half appealing. They’d been in uni for nearly a month and she felt like she’s eaten everything a million times. 

Niall got pasta while Stella got a quesadilla. They sat across from each other at a table in the back and Niall told her what it was really like living with Louis. 

“He wakes me up all the time,” Niall told her. “Middle of the night he’s kicked his shoe halfway across the room, fallen over before making it into bed. When he’s high, he’s absolutely useless.”

Stella was amused at that, nodding, she’d known him well enough to know first hand what a terror he was. Niall wasn’t complaining though. Louis was easygoing, didn’t care about much. 

“I talked to Nadia,” Niall told her, voice a bit rough. He cleared his throat. 

“How’d that go?” Stella asked, trying to sound concerned but not eager despite the way she felt. 

“She uh...” Niall trailed off, holding her gaze. “She’s moved on. Of sorts. Has a new... boyfriend- or at least someone that she wants to be her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Stella murmured. “I’m really sorry. Is that what you wanted to happen?” 

“No,” Niall chuckled, shaking his head. “Like. I guess on some level I knew it’d happen. Just didn’t think it’d be so soon.”

“I bet,” Stella agreed, watching him closely. They’d only talked about it a couple weeks ago. It wasn’t that long ago. 

“I didn’t really feel anything,” he admitted. “Maybe just guilty that I didn’t feel anything. I don’t know. Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah, of course,” she nodded. “A three year relationship ending is kind of a big deal, I’d think. A part of your life is over and another one is starting.”

“I guess,” he agreed with a nod. “Truthfully I thought I’d be the one to end it. I respected her too much to get invested in someone else while we were still together-ish.”

“Right,” Stella nodded. “Were you planning on breaking up with her or was your heart still in it?” 

“I don’t know,” he laughed, shrugging. “I have no idea what I was going to do. What I wanted. What I felt. No idea.” 

“Well that’s okay,” Stella chuckled. “You can’t name every single feeling or thought.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed. 

“This other person...” Stella began slowly. “You’re still thinking about them?” 

Niall nodded, looking away, “I think that’s why I didn’t know anything- still don’t know anything. Can’t really read her.”

Stella hummed, declining to comment. Her curiosity got the best of her. She felt guilty for asking, though she wanted to know more. Everything about what he was thinking. 

“Anyways,” Niall chuckled, checking the time. “We should get going. I still have to fuckin study. You did nothing to help me.”

“I have to read ten chapters for class tomorrow,” Stella argued, laughing. “But all you wanted to talk about was how you thought all the artists were visually impaired and didn’t know it.” 

“It’s logical,” Niall argued with a smile. 

“Glasses were invented in the 1300’s,” Stella told him. 

“And what was the quality of glasses in the 1800’s?” He asked. 

“I don’t know,” Stella shrugged, standing up. 

“Wow so there’s something that Stella doesn’t know,” he murmured, standing up too. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I don’t know lots of things,” Stella sighed, shouldering her bag. 

“Like?” 

“Like...” she trailed off, thinking it over. “I don’t know what happens to fish when water freezes. And I don’t know why there’s the temperature and then the real feel temperature.” 

“All very good questions,” Niall agreed. “I don’t know the answer to either of them.”

“I also don’t know who this mystery person is that you just can’t stop thinking about,” Stella added on, tactfully at that. 

Niall laughed, nodding, “that’s a secret.”

“Well maybe I have a person that I can’t stop thinking about too,” Stella shrugged, adjusting her bag on her shoulders. 

“Who?” Niall asked, head tilting to the side. 

“Oh it’s a secret,” Stella laughed as they began to walk outside. 

“Ha ha,” he deadpanned. “You just made it up to get back at me.” 

“I didn’t,” Stella shook her head. “There is a person that I can’t stop thinking about.” 

“One day I’ll get you to spill,” Niall told her, very confidently. Stella believed him, too. 

“Only if you tell me yours,” Stella said with a shrug as if the thought didn’t make her want to vomit anyways. It was a very stupid deal. 

“Is it Zayn?” He asked. 

“I’m not saying,” Stella laughed, shaking her head. “My lips are sealed.”

“Fine,” he mumbled, eying her skeptically. 

“Besides,” Stella murmured, looking up at him. “I’ve got my person and you’ve got yours.”

// 

Stella and Niall stood side by side, eyes on Renoir’s La Grenouillère. Niall’s face was scrunched up and Stella tried her best not to laugh but she did, hand over her mouth. 

“What?” Niall laughed. “I’m trying to look at this painting.” 

“Well why are you squinting?” Stella asked, eyebrows furrowing. 

“It’s blurry like,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know.” 

“And squinting would make it more blurry, right?” Stella asked, looking back to the painting. 

“I don’t know,” he laughed, slouching. “Help me.”

“So just look at it,” Stella told him, voice soft. “Think about what you see. How it makes you feel.” 

“I just don’t know,” he repeated, shaking his head. “They’re having a party.” 

“Yeah,” Stella nodded. 

“Is that right?”

“There’s no right answer to impressionist art,” Stella told him, turning to face him. “That’s the point. They’re open ended, like. That’s why they’re blurry so there isn’t any specific details, you can imagine or feel your own.”

“Fuck,” Niall whispered. “I got a whole section wrong on my exam.”

“Jesus,” Stella laughed, shaking her head. “Okay let’s keep going. Maybe there’ll be one you can... feel.”

“I like history,” Niall muttered. “Where there’s just facts. That-that this is what happened and you don’t have to imagine your own version of events.” 

Stella shook her head as they continued walking down the row of art hanging on the walls. She could admire the beauty in art. Literature and art went hand in hand. History went along with them too, Stella just didn’t want to be the person to tell him that. 

They stopped in front of Monet’s Sunrise. Niall let out a disgruntled sigh, rubbing his eyes, “This is quite literally a mess I..” 

“It’s a sunset,” Stella told him, pointing toward the setting sun. 

“Stella, I have to tell you something,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m like colorblind. I have trouble with the greens and blues and yellows.”

“Niall,” Stella laughed, rubbing her head. 

“I didn’t think it’d be a problem but since impressionist art is erm...” he trailed off, looking up respectfully. “Blurry?”

“I think that this effects your ability to write a reflective piece on art, wouldn’t you think?” Stella asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, eyes trailing over the paintings in front of him. “Can you help me? I’m so desperate, Stel. This impressionist shit is so hard. One bad grade and I lose my scholarship. I’ll have to go back to London and get a fuckin’ job the last thing I want is to-“

“Okay,” Stella cut him off with a gentle laugh. “I’ll help you. You’re doing all the writing, though. And you have to try.”

“I will,” he nodded. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I really appreciate it. I’ll buy you lunch. And coffee. And dinner!”

“That’s really not necessary,” Stella laughed, nodding toward the next painting. They began walking. “But of course, I’ll take you up on it.”

They must have stood in front of twenty different paintings. It was an obvious struggle, but Niall tried. With Stella’s help he’d settled on the one he’d write about. It was Les Déjeuner sur l’herb. A non complicated piece by Édouard Manet about eating lunch in the grass. 

Niall and Stella found themselves on the futon in his room, two coffees between them and lunch on the way. Niall had his laptop on his lap, eyebrows scrunched up as he worked on his reflective piece. 

Stella was there for what seemed like moral support, and maybe possibly revisions. She zoned out looking at the ceiling, thinking about how romantic museums really are. She thought about how she’d love to be kissed in front of Les Printemps by Pierre-August Cot. Or to hold hands in front of The Kiss by Auguste Rodin. 

“Okay,” Niall said, pulling Stella from her thoughts. “I think I’m almost finished. What do you think?” 

Niall passed her the laptop. She set it on her lap, sitting up. Stella read his work carefully, admiring his writers voice. It was detailed for the length of it. Surely, an extra credit worthy piece. 

“It looks good,” Stella told him with a nod, looking up at him. 

“You think it should be longer?” 

“No it’s a good size,” Stella shook her head. “Especially because you’re just writing a one piece reflection. If you were comparing two paintings, or reflecting on Manet’s work as a whole it’d be a bit longer.” 

“Okay,” Niall nodded, letting out a sigh. He looked up at her, taking the laptop back. “You know we’re doing this once every unit, you know.”

Stella laughed, shaking her head. Niall’s phone rang as he smiled, sitting up. He answered it, already standing up. He slipped his shoes on, grabbing his wallet off the table. “I’ll be right back,” he mouthed, nodding to the door. 

Stella nodded, slouching down on the futon. She took a sip of coffee as the door closed behind him. The door swung right back open and Louis walked in, a grin on his face, “Stella Bella. What’s going on here?” 

“Helping Niall with some homework,” Stella chuckled, looking up at him. 

Louis sat down beside her, shoulders bumping into hers. “Tomorrow we’re all going to Whitworth to play a bit of footie. Like everyone’s coming. You should too.”

“Is veda going?” 

“Yeah.”

“Zayn?”

“Yeah.”

“Niall?”

“Yeah.”

“Heather?” 

“Stella don’t worry about it,” Louis laughed. 

“Just tell me so I’m prepared.”

“By prepared I hope you mean you’ll leave your cat claws at home,” Louis chuckled. “She’s coming.”

“Great,” she mumbled, shaking her head. 

“She’s bringing Liam, Danielle, and this new girl Eleanor. I guess she’s like incredible looking. And smart and funny and- just play nice, okay?” Louis nearly begged, sitting up.

“I always play nice with everyone except fuckin’ Heather,” Stella mumbled almost begrudgingly. 

Louis went over to his desk, pulling out some books to shove into his book bag. “I’m going to the library to work on this math shit with Veda.” 

“Have fun,” Stella mumbled. 

“Yeah you have fun too, Stella,” Louis grinned, walking toward her. “Have I told you recently how much Niall just loves you.” 

“Go away,” Stella laughed, putting her foot out to nudge him away. 

“We’ll talk later,” he promised with a wink, hearing for the door. “Hands stay above the waist, you hear me? No funny business on my futon.”

“Fuck off,” Stella shot back, shaking her head as he walked out. It made her cheeks flush, just the mention of that. She didn’t think about it, or didn’t have the time to because Niall came back with their food. 

He set the pizza down on the table in front of them, sitting down on the futon beside her. He sighed, turning the tv on. “What do you wanna watch?” 

“Anything,” Stella shrugged, sitting up. She opened the box, picking up a slice for herself. 

“Thanks again for helping me,” Niall told her as the Netflix logo appeared on the screen. “It means a lot.”

“Of course,” Stella smiled, watching him grab his own slice of pizza. 

“You ever need help with history, let me know,” Niall told her, flashing her a smile as he sat back. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stella nodded, eyes lingering on him a bit longer than necessary.  She wanted to take him all in, the smile on his face, the way his eyes shined. Niall let her, holding her gaze. Stella was beginning to feel that there was something unspoken between them. She was dying for Niall to say it.

taglist: @niallsguitarsthings​ @exoticniall​

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[minjin]

your art is really nice!! i love your paintings especially, theyre super pretty! the colors you use look really warm and nice together ^^ i saw on your carrd you're interested in art history, do you have any fav artists and/or art pieces?

OMG hi ursula wow thats SOO nice especially coming from u... ur art is soo cool esp ur style and the way u draw outfits <33 

ALSO omg art history... i think a lot of people hold similar opinions but i really like impressionism and post-impressionism :] 

some favorites are berthe morisot

and very classic LOL but i like claude monet

and i think my carrd is pretty obvious but vangogh is my fav impressionist ❤️__❤️ his art is so beautiful it makes my jaw drop

a lesser known painter (also not an impressionist!) i learned about is adolph von menzel AND HIS PAINTINGS R REALLY LIKE.... WOW...... 

HELP this post is getting wayyyyy too long so honorable mentions are thomas blackshear II (SOOOOO AMAZING) and gustav klimt and egon shiele. i might be forgetting some more faves </3

[watusichris]

Leon Russell Au Naturel

When Les Blank’s A Poem is a Naked Person, his long-suppressed feature about Leon Russell, was finally exhumed some years back, I wrote about the film for the Night Flight web site. The story has since been scoured from the web. The film is airing Monday on TCM at the ungodly hour of 7:15 a.m. PT, as part of its Labor Day music movie marathon, so I decided to dig up my old piece and re-post it to supply some back story. It’s quite a picture, but it is not for the impatient or the squeamish. ********** Virtually unseen for more than 40 years, A Poem is a Naked Person, Les Blank’s portrait of Leon Russell, receives a formal Los Angeles premiere on July 8 with a screening at the Theatre at the Ace Hotel; a week of showings at Cinefamily, under the auspices of Allison and Tiffany Anders’ Don’t Knock the Rock Festival, commences on July 10. The reason for the picture’s long suppression is simple: Russell and his Shelter Records partner Denny Cordell commissioned Blank to make a promotional movie, and he gave them an art film, and not a flattering one at that. Therein lies a very interesting rub.

Some slightly convoluted back story is necessary. By 1972, when Blank was hired to create his portrait of the musician, guitarist-keyboardist-songwriter Russell had risen to a position of commercial eminence after years as one of L.A.’s top studio guns. Graduating from work in the house band of the weekly TV rock showcase Shindig! and record dates with such diverse clients as Phil Spector, the Byrds, and Herb Alpert, the Tulsa-born musician moved into the spotlight as musical director for Delaney and Bonnie Bramlett’s stomping R&B- and gospel-infused group and Joe Cocker’s huge, circus-like Mad Dogs & Englishmen unit.

Dubbed “The Master of Time and Space,” Russell began a fruitful label partnership with British producer Cordell with the inauguration of Shelter in 1970, a year before a high-profile appearance in the house band at George Harrison’s Concert For Bangla Desh. He bumped into the U.S. top 20 with his second solo album in 1971, but the 1972 LP Carney soared to No. 2 and spawned the No. 11 single “Tight Rope,” which was animated by Russell’s rolling keyboard work and rough yet affecting singing. The three-LP concert collection Leon Live would reach the top 10 and cement his position as a solo star in 1973.

Russell and Cordell doubtlessly envisioned a conventional feature surveying the musician’s stage show and sessions for a forthcoming country album when, on the recommendation of the American Film Institute, they commissioned Blank. By then active in Northern California for a dozen years, the director had made his rep with earthy short features about a pair of Texas musicians, bluesman Lightnin’ Hopkins (The Blues According to Lightnin’ Hopkins, 1968) and songster Mance Lipscomb (A Well Spent Life, 1971).

For nearly two years, Blank and his collaborator Maureen Gosling set up shop at Russell’s home and studio complex on a lake outside Tulsa, where they filmed the performer at work and play, and also cut their footage of Louisiana zydeco musicians Clifton Chenier and Boisec Ardoin into the pungent short films Hot Pepper and Dry Wood. The filmmakers humped their gear to gigs in Anaheim, New Orleans, and Austin, and to studio rehearsals at Bradley’s Barn in Nashville for the album Hank Wilson’s Back, the sincere and soulful 1973 country project that bewildered his core fans, essentially marking the end of Russell’s tenure as a top-flight rock attraction.

After an abortive attempt to screen A Poem is a Naked Person at the 1974 Cannes Film Festival – the print wasn’t ready – Russell and Cordell basically put the feature on semi-permanent ice, allowing it to be screened only by permission, with Blank in attendance. It remained an elusive commodity until the director’s death in 2013. At the urging of Blank’s son Harrod, Russell reconsidered the matter of its availability; a screening at this year’s South By Southwest Film Festival prefaced a national theatrical release, and a DVD from the Criterion Collection, distributor Janus Films’ home video line, is anticipated.

Russell has long been mum about his reasons for keeping the picture out of circulation; queried in recent interviews, he has glibly replied, “I don’t know,” or “I don’t remember.” But it seems obvious that the producers’ intentions and the filmmakers’ execution were widely divergent. If Russell and Cordell thought they were going to get a puffy documentary that would push their product, they were sorely disappointed.

A Poem is a Naked Person bears a striking resemblance, in style if not entirely in content, to a pair of quite radical contemporaneous films. The most obvious analog is Cocksucker Blues, Swiss-born photographer and indie filmmaker Robert Frank’s notorious backstage look at the Rolling Stones’ 1972 U.S. tour; a jumpy saturnalia of sexual escapades, heroin abuse, and hotel-room boredom, with occasional concert footage, it scandalized the band, who have enforced restrictions similar to those imposed on Blank’s movie upon its exhibition. Photographer William Eggleston’s long-gestating Stranded in Canton, which features pianist Jim Dickinson and musician/bank robber Jerry McGill among its cast of Memphis and New Orleans weirdoes and eccentrics, was shot on portable video equipment ca. 1973 and finally cut into something resembling finished form by Bluff City writer-documentarian Robert Gordon in 2005. It’s an incandescent rebel depiction of life on the distant fringes of art and music.

Frank’s and Eggleston’s highly personalized, jaggedly edited, impressionistic features, brimming with often appalling extra-musical incident, don’t fit the description of what we’ve come to call “music documentaries,” and neither do Blank’s pictures. The best-known films the director made before his encounter with Russell, though they boast musicians (Hopkins and Lipscomb) as their central figures, likewise operate well beyond the parameters of conventional music docs. Though there is a good deal of music-making and ass-shaking in them, they are at heart about the communities in which the music was made, with their indigenous landscapes, customs, cuisines, and spiritual concerns. An observer of folklife at heart, Blank was an unlikely, even incongruous, candidate to make a movie about a rock star – essentially, an industrial film for music consumers.

Like the subjects of Blank’s earlier films, Russell is witnessed at home a good deal, and the director slathers his film with super-saturated images of local color shot in and around the musician’s Oklahoma base – a pow-wow of the Tulsa Indian Club, a tractor pull, a holiday parade, a literal wild-goose chase, the implosion demolition of Tulsa’s ancient (and perfectly named) Bliss Hotel. But Russell – prematurely gray, long-haired and bearded, always bearing a glazed, slightly stoned mien -- appears before us as a man without a country, almost an alien, dislocated from his roots, ferried to his far-flung gigs in long limousines as black as hearses.

As a protagonist, Russell most resembles the central figure in a later Blank production, 1982’s Burden of Dreams. That unsettling feature follows the chaotic production of German director Werner Herzog’s film Fitzcarraldo in the heart of the Peruvian Amazon. The reckless and megalomaniacal filmmaker is seen slowly coming apart as, cut off entirely from civilization, he single-mindedly pursues his quixotic and extremely hazardous project, which entails the climactic hauling of a 20-ton boat up a steep incline; by the film’s end, Herzog appears as mad as the lunatic hero of his saga, who longs to build an opera house for Enrico Caruso in the middle of the jungle. Though Russell is never depicted in extremis, as Herzog is, Blank implies that, unlike the Southern musicians the director depicts so affectionately and respectfully, the Oklahoman is like Herzog also a man who has drifted too far from his native shore.

Music plainly is what brings Russell alive; it is at the heart of A Poem is a Naked Person, and it is often splendid, a saving grace. There are lovely cameos by George Jones (playing “Take Me” solo in Russell’s home studio) and Willie Nelson (essaying “Good Hearted Woman” at a gig in Austin, and accompanying fiddler “Sweet�� Mary Egan on “Orange Blossom Special”). Several truncated yet forceful performances by Russell’s road band – augmented by a gospel-styled quartet, Blackgrass, led by Rev. Patrick Henderson – are on view. In one simple yet eloquent sequence, Russell’s deeply felt cover of Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” plays under footage of clouds drifting across the face of the moon, as they do in Williams’ lyrics; it’s obvious, but nonetheless affecting.

One of the bleaker streaks in the film can be found in some of the sequences shot during the sessions for Hank Wilson’s Back in Nashville. These scenes are not totally bereft of a certain joy: Russell takes obvious delight in the expertise of his A-Team accompanists. One delicious scene finds him in an awed duet with Charlie McCoy, a secret hero of Bob Dylan’s Nashville-based albums from Blonde On Blonde to Self Portrait; the bespectacled McCoy looks like an accountant on his way to a tee time, and he plays and sings his ass off. But some of the other Music City studio gunslingers’ envy of and contempt for their contractor – like themselves a session guy, but one who has hit the jackpot – is scarcely concealed. Hotshot pianist David Briggs – whose obscene rendition of the Beatles’ “Lady Madonna” was expurgated in later prints of the film at Russell’s insistence – says at one juncture, in a blatant dig at his session boss, “I’m the guy they call when you can’t do your own fucking piano work.”

There is also an ugly confrontation in the Nashville studio with folk singer-songwriter Eric Andersen, who was apparently barred from entering the facility for his own session by Russell’s security staff. Russell belittles and insults Andersen with an arrogant rocker’s noblesse oblige, drily telling him, “You write some very beautiful goddamn songs,” which prompts the reply, “You’re jiving.” For his part, Andersen voices skepticism about the legitimacy of Russell’s onstage thunder: “I couldn’t tell if you’re a revivalist man, trying to put something over, where it was coming from.” You find yourself asking if Blank may not harbor the same doubt.

Blank ladles further darkness, grotesquerie, and bile over the proceedings throughout. Using non-linear, densely layering techniques pioneered in the ‘60s by French New Wave director Jean-Luc Godard – whose ironic quote, “The day of the director is dead,” is seen on the film’s concluding title card, below Blank’s credit – the filmmaker atomizes the action, or comments on it, using a vocabulary of startling jump cuts, head-spinning juxtapositions, and dialog rendered as on-screen legends (“GET THOSE GOD DAMN CAMERAS OFF US”).

Thus, in one extraordinary sequence, footage of a wasted concertgoer being ejected from one of Russell’s gigs is intercut with shocking shots of a boa constrictor killing and devouring a baby chick. (The snake is the “pet” of artist Jim Franklin, who is seen elsewhere adorning the bottom of Russell’s swimming pool, after coolly collecting scorpions off its walls.) In another scene, a snippet of fiddler Johnny Gimble improvising a lively solo in the studio is abruptly interrupted by the screaming freakout of a bare-chested young man on a very bad acid trip in an unidentified hotel room.

Blank seems to imply that for all the tambourine shaking and Chautauqua-tent fervor of his sound, Russell makes music that only mimes the spiritual core of its sources. Nowhere is this more apparent than in a ragged jump cut from minister-musician Henderson playing at a Pentecostal church service to his group Blackgrass rocking the praise at one of Russell’s shows. The first performance, Blank suggests, is about true religion of the most devout order – the real thing, as it were -- while the second is no more than entertainment.

In the end, Blank says without a flinch, this music is about the dollars. At one point he trains his camera on a teenage hitchhiker outside one of Russell’s shows; with a guitar slung on his back and a cardboard sign reading, “Oklahoma City” in his hand, the deluded kid says, “I wanna make it in Hollywood like Leon does – make a million dollars playin’ gee-tah.” The most damning exchange in the entire picture comes when an acquaintance poses a question to Russell after his performance at a friend’s wedding. Russell repeats the question – “If I didn’t get paid for singing, wouldn’t I sing?” – and leaves it hanging in the air, unanswered.

One can easily understand why Russell and Cordell were mortified, even horrified, by Blank’s film and sat on it for four decades. A Poem is a Naked Person used the language of cinema to subvert the film’s intended purpose as a self-glorifying sales tool. Instead, it ended up being a probing and dialectical work that used Russell’s music much as Godard himself employed the Rolling Stones’ music (far less effectively or coherently) in his Sympathy For the Devil. As it often has over the course of time, great art – and Blank’s movie definitely qualifies as such – operates at cross-purposes to a patron’s wishes.  

[trulycertain]

Template from here.

My thoughts are: wow, you can really see where I started having tablet problems, but you can also see just how many experimental things are in here if you know me well. I didn't always pick the "best" stuff, more stuff that was new and taught me something, and often that was the stuff I most enjoyed and am happiest with.

01.  “I’m going to try lineless sketchless painting from colour picking, to try and get values, because I never use colours.” 02. “Here’s a try at horror art and impressionistic weirdness.” 03. “Moody lighting and a difficult pose? Eh, why not.” 04. "I'm going to get to grips with markers and draw masks." 05. “Anatomy practice, and expression practice.” 06. "I'm going to try abstract palettes." 07. “Abstract colours, ambient light, trying to do a detail paint? OK. Sure. Um.” 08. Colour-picking to try and understand values and saturation. 09. A first attempt at charcoals, and landscapes, which I never do. 10. “Might as well try to get a difficult expression down.” (Did a lot of that in Inktober.) 11. “Charcoals and drawing animals. Both are new.” 12. “I’m going to try a cartoony style, and try and make a spiky ball that doesn’t really have a face as such emote. This should be... interesting.”

[conceptualliteratureblog]

Language Profiles: student agency & multilingualism

This post is relevant either to language A/B teachers or to educators looking at whole school literacy implementation ideas.  

Thank you, Yi Shen (Sandy) for showing me the power of a language profile in our workshop in Hong Kong (Sha Tin College, September 2017)!  This is something any of you can try with your teaching staff or your classrooms to make language a truly dynamic part of the learning process at your school and help people become aware of the power and challenges that come with personal language knowledge.  

Some schools will already have a language profile for each student.  Often, this only lists the home language(s) and level of English (or language of instruction) of the student.  We can do more!  Also, sometimes the level of English listed is from an application filled out by parents trying to impress the school.  Find out where the information comes from to really understand what it means.  Essentially, there are many ways to get more information that can help gain knowledge for the student’s personalised learning strategies, but likely the best person to create this portfolio is the student, at least in secondary schools.

In order to understand how this works for students, try to do it yourself:

Think back to your infant development and schooling: what is your language story?  Where and when did you learn language(s)? What dialects do you speak?  What slang do you know?  Especially if you live away from where you grew up, this dynamic has probably changed over the years.  Even if you only speak English, you have probably had exposure to different kinds of English and use a certain type with friends, family, and students.  You probably also at one point learned a second language in school.  What was this experience of language learning like for you?  What excites you about (other) languages?  What scares you?  How does language give you power?  How does it make you powerless?

There will probably be a wide range of responses to these questions from colleagues and students alike.  Sharing your language story with a colleague or two can help you to express what language is for you and to have empathy for others who may find difficulty with language.

Try drawing a map of the language(s) you use today.  With whom and for what purposes do you speak different languages, dialects, or slang?  Maybe your register simply shifts; that is ok as well. Maybe you speak some languages for fun and others out of a need.  

I was raised an anglophone.  Hailing from Boston, I avoided the accent and local dialect due to the nature of the transplant and immigrant town of Lexington that I grew up in.  My parents came from Minnesota and Texas, and each had lived in Boston since just after their university years.  We had a blended American English at home.

My mom also studied French extensively at school, so when I started lessons at age 7 in our school system, the fit felt natural.  Half of my mom’s family is French and with Québec not that far away, schools in the area at that time all taught French to students as a ‘second’ language.  I took French all through grade school until the AP exam when I feel out of love with the language.  Suddenly, I had teachers who just cared about correctness and memorisation rather than taking us to see the Impressionist exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts or teaching us how to make crepes.  The joy was killed.

So at university, I took Spanish for a year.  It was fun, but I wasn’t quite in love with it the same way.  And then there were all those other courses on the syllabus and I wanted to double major…so…no language B study for a couple of years.  But then, Latin the last year.  I had wanted to take Latin as a first-year but my advisor said it was a dead language.  What was the point?  I found the grammatical structures a fun puzzle and our tiny class of five a fun classical oasis.  

After college, I went straight into my MAT to earn a teaching degree.  I hadn’t studied abroad like so many US students mostly because of sport with the plan to somehow do it later.  My MAT programme allowed you to do your student teaching abroad, but you had to find the school.  It was much of the reason I had chosen the program.  

I had decided I wanted to give French a go again.  After writing to many schools in Switzerland and France, I finally got a positive response from the Lycée International American Section director, just outside of Paris.  Paris!  What a dream.  They wouldn’t pay me, of course, but I could work with several of their teachers and live with one of the school’s families in exchange for some babysitting and tutoring.  

That year was bliss.  But I could digress for ages about my love affair with Paris…back to the language!  I had to take intensive French courses again as part of my visa.  It was also a great way to meet people from other places.  I had very good, slow, correct French, I was told time and again.  But it was slow.  Part of culture is how you speak, and the French, at least the Parisians, don’t like to speak slowly.  I was given the advice to just spit it out and not worry about my mistakes.  So I did that, time and again, until I felt comfortable in French.  I felt like a different part of my personality came out in French.  

Fast forward three years: I had moved back to the states and then to Italy.  My French proved very useful in learning Italian and the locals were even more encouraging about just trying the language out.  Within a few months, I was comfortably having conversations.  Sadly, a lot of that is lost now after more than a decade without much exposure, but I think I could reclaim it in a month or so if given the opportunity.  

Similarly, when I moved to Hong Kong, I took Mandarin Chinese lessons.  But though I loved it, I found it difficult to practice the language in a place that is mostly Cantonese and English.  Cantonese was trickier to learn and ‘not as useful’ once you move away.  I never knew how long I would stay…if I had known it would be eight years, I probably would have learned right away.  In any case, learning some Chinese helped me to at least understand what it’s about and is something I would go back to as well with a longer stay in the mainland or again in Hong Kong.  

I kept up the French, though, with long, frequent stays in France, lots of films, and a long-term French beau along the way.  Now, I have friends with whom I speak French in Vienna, I read in French when I can, and I have that dream of living there….

But most of my life is still lived in English.  I’ve learned some German living in Vienna.  I took a class and did some self study.  But there’s always that time factor, and I decided to have a baby and do some writing instead.  Maybe I’ll go back to it.  Let’s see how things shape up in a year or two.  The little I’ve learned is certainly helpful and shows a sort of respect in trying, I think.  When I travel I also like to learn a few phrases for this reason.  We who speak English are privileged to have the ‘international language’ at our fingertips.  But we are only denying ourselves if we limit the other languages we can learn.  

Now I also have a baby boy who is learning language every day.  We speak American and British English at home.  We try not to swear around him.  I sometimes speak with him in French.  He will attend a mostly German speaking nursery school soon.  It makes more me aware of how and why we learn these languages.

That’s my language story in brief.  I’m sure you can find links with geography, emotions, work, and more to understand even more where it all comes from.  I have students with much more dynamic backgrounds.  Some speak three languages at home with their parents, a different one at school (English), take a foreign language, and speak in some kind of multilingual slang with their friends. When students go through their language journeys, their stories, they find ways to use language for learning.  They acquire agency.  In asking teachers to also go through the process, they can connect with the student’s learning as they make reflections on their own journeys, connected also to emotion, place, people…the list goes on. These associations help us understand the way we use languages as well as our motivations or fears connected to language.  

One of my students studying three language A at school (English, German, Italian) for a trilingual diploma (wow!) conducted her Extended Essay research on the topic of multilingualism and cognition.  She narrowed it to bilingualism since little research has been done beyond this, even though, as she noted, many people speak more than two languages.  She always felt her languages were a hindrance, which really shocked me.  Most of the recent research I had read showed the cognitive power of having more than one language.  This is why so many people try to get their kids in immersion programs if there is only one language at home.  She was aware of this, but sometimes felt like words escaped her or she couldn’t understand something she read.  She realised that even though she reads a lot, the time is divided among these three languages. Her vocabulary development could be limited in that way.  Research supported this, but this was the only area she found to be a hindrance.  The way she uses language can be more creative and the development of her brain allows for code switching that goes beyond language and into experiences.

Are any of you doing research in this area?  I would be interested to hear about any current work with multilingual speakers and happy to post a link to your published work on my blog.  

[sleepykalena]

hi, really like your stuff i've asked myself what makes an artwork stand out to you and is there something you particularly enjoy seeing in rebelcaptain fanart (tropes, style, headcanons, etc.) and how much of it do you incooperate into your own art?

Oh wow, this ask was a nice surprise, thank you so much, anon!

what makes an art piece stand out to me:

short answer: “good composition”

long answer: There is never really just ONE thing that stands out to me as being “good artwork”. Since there are so many styles, there’s something to appreciate in all of them. Oftentimes i’ll even consider the age/stage in life that the artist is in, as well. Just off the top of my head, artwork stands out to me when:

The use of color really lends to the impact of the visual (e.g. monochrome but with an accent of another color to draw my eye, really bold colors, colors not commonly shown in something you see irl but it somehow just works, etc.)

The staging of the art piece is really dynamic (i.e. my eye travels in a certain way to make me appreciate everything about it). sometimes art will make my eyes travel in a circle, others will use a sort-of “dutch angle” and things are diagonal, some are made in such a way that their body language stands out, and so on.

There’s an obvious message to the art piece, and i have to stop and look at it as a result. artists DO have things to say about life and the world around them, and sometimes they make it really subtle, or sometimes they make it really overt. I’ve spent the past week in DC and i’m paying special attention to the propaganda pieces created during major war-related events in the US.

The art piece has a really interesting stroke quality or line quality to them. One of the first things I added to my Art Inspo folder was a series of paintings of the three boys who made the Marauder’s Map (let’s not bring Wormtail into this LOL), during their teenage years, in a modern AU, but done in such a way that they’re blurry. When you look at them up close you see these broad brush strokes and the image is kinda clear, but not really. There arent’ a lot of fine details to them. It’s when you take a couple steps back from your computer that you see that the image has more of a fuzzy, almost impressionist quality to them. I loved that so much that i immediately saved them and started my Art Inspo folder based on just that.

I know the artist, at least a little bit of them, and they’ve done something that’s either a huge improvement of what I remember their art looking like, or they’ve tried a new technique. This is why I make it a point to support as many fandom artists here as possible- some are just dabbling in art and I want to go out of my way to help encourage them to keep drawing. Some have been doing art for a long time but have made changes/improvements to their composition, color choice, posing choices, etc. since I’ve gotten to know them and their work. Some have chosen to finally draw different angles of faces and bodies (yes, this is a callout to one of the artists, you know who you are- fight me lol)

favorite tropes/style/headcanons in rebelcaptain fanart:

I think it’s safe to say that i’ll never say no to #HeightDifference, fluff, and “Jyn wearing Cassian’s parka” tropes for rebelcaptain art.

But much like with fic, i can be totally sold on fanart if the artist can sell me on the message/story/style/headcanon. It’s hard to say I have a favorite style when it relies more on the artist’s ability to sell me on what they’re depicting. I never in a million years thought I’d ever be on board with watching Cassian go undercover as a theme park suit character, and yet one of the fandom artists did that and sold me so much on it that I made a version of my own. Did I ever think I’d draw rebelcaptain in onesies? Fuck no, and yet someone out there sold the concept to me so well that i just dropped my shit and did a little doodle to get it out of my system. Funny how fandom works.

Some tropes are just really hard to depict, though! One of my favorite tropes is “working together as equals”/”being badass in their own right”, and I think i’ve only seen one fanart that really best depicts that.

If the art is funny, or maybe badass, or just super emotional, or has a really nifty way of coloring or presenting the line work, or has an expression that i think is appealing, then I throw it in my queue and leave a comment on it, no questions asked.

That being said, I never reblog things out of obligation. I reblog things if I like them, and I try to make sure I give a stated reason as to why I like it, particularly if it’s visual content.

incorporating tropes/headcanons into my own rebelcaptain fanart:

I’mma let you in on a secret here: about half my most popular fanart aren’t even tropes I particularly care for LOL

Cute is apparently what I’m known for, so my smol!rogues got the most notes, even if I don’t particularly care for fluffy kid!fics. The next most popular ones were the forehead kisses, which, at the very least, taps in to the #HeightDifference trope, which I love to no end. But after that, it’s just...difficult. I have a lot of scrapped ideas and WIPs just because I lack the ability to even draw them or see them to completion. Most of my headcanons are actually relatively serious, if i’m honest; but i’m not known for that on an artistic level, and cutesy drawings are the easiest for me to draw, so I have to put myself in a different headspace whenever I bust out the pencil.

I have one “serious”-looking rebelcaptain (ish) drawing that’s a WIP (pin-up Jyn wearing nothing but Cassian’s parka), and that’s probably the closest it gets to me making fanart that actually lines up with a headcanon I have, but other than that, I’ve sort of resigned to this idea that I write angst and emotionally heavy stories, and then draw cute fluffy things to sort of ease the edge of my writing. it is what it is.

thanks for the ask, anon! really loved finding this in my inbox

[velveteen-mango]

What is the most attractive thing about art to you?

This is an interesting question because a lot of why I pursue ~art~ is in order to be able to convey a story, emotions or symbols, memories or dreams. But since I'm assuming you might mean illustration and visual arts (if you mean art as in the umbrella term then really it's just the potential creative expression has in touching other people, that's the greatest stuff right there)- it's hard to say what about it has me captive.

In one way, I think the experience of making art is amazing and a single piece is far more specific than what it's equivalent in words would be. A picture is worth a thousand words, should you find at least a thousand meanings. So in the sense of making it- once you have the idea in mind it's a lot more peaceful than writing. It's also such an easy way to reel people in, if you see an art work on your dash and you're not in the mood to see art- then tOo bad, because you've seen it anyways. With text however, the eyes are ready to skip through. ~Though Tumblrs may play you with coloured text~

The other side of this, as a viewer I love art that feels rich in emotion or texture. Like how you might want so much to just run your fingers down certain impressionist paintings. If I wanna touch it,, it's good stuff. When I say I could eat a painting ~sometimes I do say that shh~ I really mean that it's so rich in flavour that I have successfully been immersed in it.

Again from a viewer's side of this, I also think that art which has lots of meanings is the best. I'm thinking of classical paintings, I'm thinking of webcomics, I'm thinking of street art- personally I have been just slightly trained in the direction of literary and film analysis (I'm not great at it though) so when I see symbols and I see allusions in art that enrich the piece- then i love it 20 times more. I don't mean Easter eggs though, I mean colours, I mean flowers (though for gods sake I'll never get into the meanings of flowers I feel like that's a hopelessly niche box that unless you're genuinely fascinated for yourself- you should stay out of. Yes roses are love and passion but please don't ask me what a Bluebell with a tiger Lily and a wisteria are supposed to mean) and symbols and art style. I love seeing things that make me go, "Wow... It works but I don't know why." And then I'll find out. And then I'm at Stage Super Attracted to Art because I even interacted with it.

[imnothinginparticular]

#finishedbooks Degas in New Orleans by Christopher Benfey. Picked this up at the library's pop up sale for 50 cents along with that Patti Smith book. Impressionism initially got me into art reading Emile Zola, in particular his novel "The Masterpiece", that had me trying to figure out what Impressionism actually was in following the protagonist's adversity to express his impressions (based on Monet) that really got me. Think in 2009ish the National Tokyo Art Museum had an exhibit by Renoir and I decided to go. I had never been to an art museum in my life to that point so I actually didn't know what to do. I dressed up in a suit because I thought it was required and I didn't want to be harassed as I had just come from the US were security would harass me in those sort of places that I felt I didn't particularly belong... so I went suit-and-all and spent 5 hours there going back and forth contemplating each painting's brush strokes from all distances and reading all the background information. It was just a dope experience... like wow an art museum haha. Then went on to go to several more and a year later tip toed into becoming an artist myself with my first camera, ikebana lessons, and first short film. So impressionism still holds a sentimental spot for me...but to the book. This title stuck out to me as this period for Degas is usually written off in general impressionists books with the book's cover painting, "The Cotton Market", shown as his only painting during the period as a footnote. It struck me as odd that he could come to a whole new continent and not be inspired by something...and if this was the case then what happened? So finding this book, I was excited going in, but immediately found it was roughly only one third about Degas while the rest was a telling of the pivotal post war era of New Orleans…or really about the lore in general of the crescent city. From the LaLaurie mansion that caught fire during a dinner party with Mrs. LaLaurie famously saying forget the servants, save my valuables, but the guests rushed to the back rooms to find elaborate torture chambers of her slaves who were mutilated beyond human recognition some still living. She meanwhile fled to Paris where she was discovered and ended up hiding in the Pyrenees where she was eventually gored to death by a boar while hunting. The house was gutted by a mob and still remains that way today and is said to be hunted. To general civil war history as New Orleans was the richest city in the south, it was infamously the first to fall in the Civil War as well with an equally notorious occupation (Google Butler's Woman Order) that some of Degas relatives escaped back to Paris from inspiring some early Degas work that associated war with women suffering. But really it wasn’t until page 80 that Degas even steps foot in New Orleans. We notice he is fascinated by the technical innovations (railroad, steamboats, ice plant), fun fact later even as a world renowned impressionist, he actually got heavy into photography as well at a time when no one saw the artistic possibilities of the new medium. On the flip side he hated the lack of culture particularly the opera and ballet which would be his favorite subjects. Impressionists where notoriously sensitive to light a few of them going blind even, and always liked seeing Monet go anywhere in southern Europe trying to paint because he struggled with what most wouldn’t even notice in the quality of light. If I ever got rich I would buy one of those paintings as practically they are cheaper but I like them as an artist trying to rectify such a small nuisance that no one wouldn't notice. Degas found it too extreme in New Orleans, which if you notice among the photos I shot there that I shared…they are overexposed at my Leica limit of f16 at 1/1000. In all had the hoped the book was more about Degas, but proved interesting none the less…Degas 38 at the time and would go back to France and by 39 had begun painting the ballerinas he became known for...

[chasingpluto97-blog]

The Water Lillies~

I haven't been to many art exhibitions.. but this one.. just wow. Most of the art up into this point of the trip has been great, but besides the Delacriox exhibition, I haven't felt any real connection to it. This exhibition changed that. I have learned that I love stepping back and analysing what a painting means in the context within which it is presented and the context that your own mind frames. I have begun to live action painting and abstract expressionism alike.

I especially like the works of both Monet and Pollock. Monet was a major founder of French impressionist painting. It all appears to have a whimsical look to it. It’s just real enough to understand but not so real that you feel like you could know the figures that he has painted. His painting the Blue Water Lillies was interesting to me because of its overall intensity. You feel as though you could dive straight into the water, but at the same time, I couldn’t entirely wrap my head around the idea of what was reality.

This idea of “reality” is called further into question by the works of Pollock. His painting The Deep (1953) has by far been my favorite piece this entire trip. This “all-over” technique really gripped my eye as it pulled me into the painting. The white edges appear so at peace contrary to its dark interior color. The harsh and chaotic transition seemed to communicate such a message of literal depth but of emotion and pain and what it means to be human.

I loved this combination of action painting and abstract expressionism. These paintings having no clear meaning really leave it up to the viewer to decide what they mean; it’s all up for individual interpretation.

Until next time~

ryley o.

(·the water lillies temporary exhibition brochure)

[mousedetective]

K-I-S-S-I-N-G (2 - 4/4)

And here is yet another one finished for WIP Big Bang! I had so much fun with this.

K-I-S-S-I-N-G - Molly made a mistake in dating James Moriarty, and he wanted to make sure she pays for refusing him by tarnishing her reputation. When that didn’t work he moved on to ruining her charity kissing booth at the village faire, but Mary had her own plans to stop that, with a little help from her boyfriend’s friend, Sherlock Holmes.

Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2 | Buy Me A Coffee?

They found a cozy little spot that had pastries and coffee and, in view of it being the village faire and all, full Englishes for a bit of a cost, with all the proceeds going to the local children’s hospital. She hadn’t thought she’d have an appetite at all when the bastard had come to the booth but suddenly she realized just how little she’d eaten over the last few weeks. She had never been the type to drown her sorrows in booze or food, though she might have overdone the wine a tiny bit since the disparaging remarks were made. But appetite? No, that had been less for some time.

And here she was with a rather handsome bloke and she wanted to stuff her face with a full English while he paid a thousand pounds to rescue her from a sticky situation.

He must have caught the look on her face because he nodded to the sandwich board showing the deal. “I’m in the mood to be charitable today. Two of those sound like a good deal. Plus there’s unlimited coffee.”

She grinned back at him. “You must have heard my stomach rumble at the smell of the back bacon wafting out.”

“A bit,” he said with a gentle smile. “And Mary told John that she was worried you’d starve if your moping went on much longer.”

“She worries too much,” Molly said, shaking her head.

“She worries just enough,” he said. “I’ve barely spent any time with her and I see it with John. She’s a nurturing sort.”

“That she is,” she said, getting to the door and opening it. There was a larger crowd than she was used to seeing in the establishment, which meant it might be some time before they got their food. But apparently, the staff had set up a coffee station for customers once they placed an order, so she and Sherlock placed theirs and wandered to the coffee station to make a cup. “This was a good idea.”

“The breakfast or the coffee station?” Sherlock asked, taking two paper cups and pouring coffee into them before handing her one.

“Both,” she said. She found some flavored syrup and added a bit of Irish crème flavored syrup to hers with some cream and sugar. She watched Sherlock put two sugars into his coffee before topping it off with a lid and taking a sip. “How does it taste?”

“Not too bad. Hot, but not too hot, and on the strong side.”

She added a little more sugar to hers and then stirred it all together before taking a lid that Sherlock handed her. They had been given a number t put on the side of their table so the staff would know who to bring the food too. There were a few optional additions to the full English that the cafe was offering, and both she and Sherlock had gotten much the same additions. She’d decided to have some hash browns American style instead of fried spuds, but other than that they had nearly the same order. It showed he had good taste.

“So,” she said as they got settled.

“So,” he said. “I suppose you’re curious as to what I meant by hush money.”

“A bit, yeah,” she said.

He picked up his coffee and instead of leaning back to drink it he leaned forward, as though this was a secret he was sharing only with her. “There’s more to the scandal then John knows. It involved embezzlement, staff shagging students, grade fixing...there was a lot of things going on that the university didn’t want to be aired. All sorts of dirty laundry. And I, being an investigative reporter for the student newspaper, had every intent to air it.”

“You discovered it all on your own?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Well, I had a lead most people would have ignored. I would occasionally do work for the local paper, and my mentor, Lestrade, persuaded me to cultivate sources among the highest of society and the lowest of society. One of my sources was a madam. She had a university student in her employ who was being shaken down by a professor because the professor thought she had videotaped a session. When he got violent, Irene came to me instead of going to the police. She didn’t want justice. She wanted to bring the whole organization down, and her employer was more than willing to help. She didn’t appreciate a man raising a hand and striking one of her employees, no matter how powerful he thought he was.”

Her eyes grew wider if that was at all possible. “Wow. That’s even more impressive than what I originally thought.”

“Well, I got her her revenge,” he said. “It cost me my education at that university, but the man is sacked and any university he goes to will know exactly why. That was my price for not running the story. The money was just a bonus. I gave Irene half of it but it still left me a student of independent means.”

“Most people wouldn’t have given half the money away,” she said.

“There would have been no story if it hadn’t been for Irene wanting revenge,” he said. “I felt it was only fair. Last I heard, she transferred to an art institute in Paris. Probably best for her; she was incredibly talented. I gave one of her pieces to my brother for his office. I have another for myself.”

“What did she paint?” Molly asked.

“She was a post-impressionist,” Sherlock replied before having more of his coffee. “She’s quite skilled. I plan on selling my picture when she’s more well known and investing in my side business.”

“What side business?”

“Consulting detective,” he said. “While I enjoy investigative journalism, I want to do more. Solve crimes and all that, but not for a constabulary. Too boring.”

“Well, if my opinion matters, I think you’ll do just fine,” she said with a smile. “You have a kind heart and a sharp intellect. It’s a lethal combination in an investigative field.”

“My kind heart might be my downfall,” he pointed out.

“I doubt it,” she said with a smile before having more of her coffee. “I think you’ll temper it enough with a realistic view of the world so you won’t get conned.”

“I that so?” he asked, his small smile growing larger. “Let me guess: psychology is your field of study?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Forensic sciences. But I do take the occasional psychology course for fun. And occasionally profit.”

“Oh?” he asked.

“I write a column for the local newspaper. If you see the ‘Ask Agnes’ column, I would be Agnes.”

“It seems that a good heart is true for both of us, then,” he said. “As well as an interest in journalism.”

“I suppose so,” she said. “I wonder what else we have in common?”

“Perhaps we can start comparing while we wait for breakfast,” he said, having more of his coffee.

“I’d like that,” she said, her smile widening and getting a smile in return. This boded well for the day, she thought.

Or at least she hoped.

[luvdsc]

yeah, they went well mostly!! and thank you,, im literally so happy that im done with them lol!! yes!!! exchange students are just sooo mysterious and so much more cute because theyre gonna be gone in like a couple months haha nice to hear that there are, in fact, nice fratboys!! in films they just seem, uh, a little obnoxious and annoying haha? and, ohh, i know what you mean!! most of my classmates just dont really dress well?? but exchange students? another story!! and, yes, i love stem! (1/4)

it really really sucks that there are so little girls in stem :( and, yes, im like 99% sure that i want to get into stem!! i really dont know what else i would do haha stem is truly so great and interesting and challenging!! and, yes!! it was so great to see my friends again,, and, yeah, weve gotta wear masks which kinda sucks!! and, no, so far i only had to come in for the subjects that i had exams in, but in the next few weeks ive gotta come in for the rest of them as well :( oh, i love (2/4)

cards against humanity!! but i dont think ive ever heard of code names? and haha i wish our webcam platform is better, but its kinda weird and shady,, and that sucks!! hope you somehow manage to fix the problem? and it gets kinda humid? definitely not as bad as in vietnam LMAO and, yes, its literally my favourite part about winter here!! their ps skills were really good,, i was sooo surprised haha and, yes! i did,, the fact that eugene only gave matt alcohol LMAO so typical and my cinnamon (3/4)

rolls came out really well!! and, ohhh, did you make more baguettes? and, yeah, i pretty much did mini cinnamon rolls because otherwise they would be too big haha and im happy to hear that you got some sleep!! and, oh, do you already know what youre gonna paint? im so happy to hear that your prof liked it!! wow, time really flies huh? must feel crazy to graduate in two weeks!! and ive been good!! im just baking and playing online games with my friends!! how about you? (4/4)

✿ ✿ ✿

omg that’s great!!! i’m really happy to hear that :’) are you almost done with school for the year? when does summer vacation start for you? LOL wait you’re right omg the appeal is that you know the relationship won’t last long. you can casually date for fun and move on without worrying. oh yeah, they definitely are annoying and obnoxious LMAO, but i guess in an endearing way since i’m still friends with them askjfdhal oh my gosh, yes!!! granted, my hs made us wear uniforms, so we all looked the same, but just the overall fashion sense where i live is more laidback, comfy, and casual, but exchange students look ready to strut down the runway :o

yeah, i hope more girls join stem!!! and yessss, that’s awesome! 💓  do you have an idea of what you want to major in? and it truly is! even though it’s difficult, the concepts learned in those classes are wonderful and really make you think. are masks sold out there, too? those n95 masks aren’t available anywhere here. ah, i see, pls stay safe!!! bring extra masks and carry hand sanitizer with you! 💞

yesss omg cards against humanity is sooo funny! i love that game so much :’) code names is really fun, too! it’s like a mix of a brain teaser / guessing game. ah, zoom is the same way /: my professor gets kicked out of her classroom for no reason like 3 times every session, and we’re all just sitting there like 🙂🙂🙂  and yes, i did luckily! i uninstalled and reinstalled it a couple times, and finally, it started to work again!! omg if it was as humid as vietnam on a daily basis, i would die ajhsdkfa does that mean there’s lots of snow nearby? do you go skiing or snowboarding often? OMG YEAH when eugene gave him all alcohol, i was like ajshdflkjasf maybe make vodka pasta?? alcoholic ice cream? but matt absolutely nailed it damn 

and omg that’s fantastic!!! i’m happy they came out well for you! they must’ve looked so cute and yummy! 💘💘  gordon ramsey is shaking in his boots at your cooking skills. and yes, i made some more the other day! i actually wanna try making croissants sometime, too? but baguettes are much easier, so i’ll stick with that for now. and thank you! :’) yes, i’m going to be painting a sort of triptych! its subject is a close up of bees and lemons done in an impressionist style mixed with some pop art! they’re all going to be connected, like half of a bee will be on one canvas and the other half will be on another canvas. so all three paintings will match up and connect with each other 💝  and yes, it does ): i’m a little sad that my entire school career is over in one week, but i’m also so happy that i’ll never have another midterm or final again LOL aaah that sounds like the ideal way to spend time 💞 i’ve also been spending time with friends over webcam, baking, writing and watching a lot of cooking shows, like chopped! i hope you’re having a good weekend, sweetpea 💛