#Lone Eriksen

[dkavisen]

Har du en skuespiller i maven?

Har du en skuespiller i maven?

Dilettant 2023 løber af stablen i marts måned, når lysene i Erritsø Forsamlingshus tændes til glæde og grin for de mange gæster. Nu søger instruktøren bag den populære forestilling, Michael Kristensen, to skuespillere til årets forestilling – og det er en af hvert< køn. Michael Kristensen – Vi har lidt travlt, da årets foto skal tages den 15. december hos Helle S. Andersen, men vi tror på det…

[moodboards-of-a-loz3r]

𝐋𝐖 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃

"ꜱᴏ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀʏ, ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜɪᴛ, ꜰᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ?" 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑫 𝑨𝑵 𝑨𝑺𝑲 𝑻𝑶 𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑨 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑩𝑶𝑨𝑹𝑫. 𝑹𝑼𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑰𝑵 𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑫 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 | 𝓣𝓗𝓔 𝓛𝓘𝓝𝓚 --V--

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

“Paul: Plus, I think it’s be tough having two alpha dogs in the same relationship, you know?

TK: I don’t know, that’s pretty common. Carlos and I have two alpha dogs in our relationship.

Carlos: Sure we do, baby”.

[dalekofchaos]

Life Is Strange 2 Fancast

LIS fancast

LIS BTS fancast

LIS TC Fancast

Michael Cimino as Sean Diaz

Santiago Segura as Older Sean Diaz

Davi Martins as Daniel Diaz

Hunter Payton Mendoza as Teen Daniel(Parted Ways, Lone Wolf and Blood Brother endings)

Jeff Wahlberg as Adult Daniel Diaz(Redemption ending)

Manny Montana as Esteban Diaz

Elizabeth Yu as Lyla Park

Awkwafina as older Lyla Park

Jeremy Shada as Brett Foster

Graham McTavish as Hank Stamper

Jonah Hill as Brody Holloway

Alley Mills as Claire Reynolds

Alan Dale as Stephen Reynolds

Dean Woodward as Chris Eriksen

Finn Jones as Charles Eriksen

Natalia Dyer as Cassidy/Lucy Rose Jones

Joseph Quinn as Finn McNamara

Devery Jacobs as Hannah Reyome

Alton Mason as Dean Mickael Baptist

Gabriel LaBelle as Jacob Hackerman

Ellie Duckles as Ingrid

Mike Vogel as Anders

Rob Morgan as Merrill

Chris Sullivan as Big Joe

Katherine Heigl as Karen Reynolds

Everleigh Primrose as Sarah Lee Hackerman

Eiza González as Agent Maria Elena Flores

Lance Gross as Joey Peterson

John Goodman as Anton Oates

Rooney Mara as Lisbeth Fischer

Because of tumblr’s new layout with the 30 picture limit, I cannot add more pictures, so here’s the rest.

Brendan Fehr as Nicholas Durand

David Harbour as David Madsen

Ben Affleck as Arthur Peterson

Stanley Tucci as Stanley Petersen

Laura Dern as Joan Marcus

[the-black-bulls]

Asta is 100% a Box-to-Box/Destroyer style Centre Mid, not particularly tall but has lots of stamina as well as physically strong, his low centre of gravity would make it hard to get the ball off of him too. A good comparison would be N'Golo Kante.

While Luck has a lot of energy I don't see him playing a self less role in midfield like Asta, with his speed I'd say an Inverted Winger/Inside Forward basically Kylian Mbappe.

I can see Gauche and Gordon making a good Centre Back pairing, their personalities are very complimentary with Gauche being the Aggressive Stopper and Gordon the Passive Cover. Sergio Ramos and Raphael Varane for Real Madrid come to mind.

Nacht I'd partner with Asta in a midfield pivot as a Regista/Deep Lying Playmaker, technically gifted as well as experienced, can rely on Asta to do the hard yards and allow him to take over the more creative role of the two. I'd see him in the same vein as a Christian Eriksen.

Yami is the Coach, you can't convince me otherwise. He just sits there smoking when they play/train and his tactics are entirely "Surpass your limits"

Grey is the ultimate substitute(if we're doing this with powers), she can be whatever you need, chasing the game she can become a tall striker, need an extra player in midfield to control the game she can turn into a small mid with a low centre of gravity. Holding onto a lead? Whats this 2 Gauche's?.

Magna I see as a hard working Centre Forward. He isn't a world class finisher but he gets into good positions and works hard defensively. Callum Wilson would be who'd compare him too.

Vanessa is an Attacking Mid she's pulls the strings going forward and creates chances. Doesn't do much defensive work thanks to Asta and Luck being endless balls of energy. Mesut Özil would be a good comparison.

Finral is a Full Back who looks to stay wide and draw defenders out when going forward to create space for the forwards. Trent Alexander-Arnold would be my comparison.

Noelle was a very boring player before joining the Black Bulls, but with the boost to her confidence she's become a very Fancy and Tricky Winger that looks to take on her defender with Speed and Tricks. I'd compare her to Allan Saint-Maximin

Zora is a bit of an old school Full Back on the opposite side of the field to Finral. He's a bit more defensive but he looks to start counter attacks when the Bulls have been pinned back in their own half. I'd use Gary Neville as his comparison.

Henry is the Goalie simple as that, doesn't have the same physical capabilities as everyone else but that hair would make for one hell of a wall.

Nero is the Coffee addicted Assistant Manager.

Charmy is the cook.

I think that's everyone in the Bulls

Wow, that's the football enthusiast type of headcanons I was looking for, well done my guy!!

Allow me to include some silly headcanons:

-- Magna is the team's captain and has scored the most goals.

-- Luck is a great striker, but he's often offside for shits and giggles.

-- Noelle claims that rules don't apply to royals, therefore she can go offside as many times as she wants.

-- Vanessa basically passes out after 45 minutes.

-- Asta loves doing these bicycle/overhead kicks.

-- Nacht is capable to play in any position, he just prefers to work with Asta and provide support where it's most desperate if needed.

-- Luck has the most yellow cards, Gauche has the most red cards, however Yami still tops the kingdom's all-time record of both yellow and red cards.

-- Zora leads the defense, he's great with offside traps and sweeping.

-- Sometimes Zora and Gauche act solo and ditch their positions, leaving behind Gordon and Finral crying and whimpering.

-- Before Henry, Gordon used to be the goalkeeper and was lonely.

-- Finral and Grey don't know why they're on the team at all. One time Grey gets so stressed she scored a goal... on her own team.

-- Liebe wears the team's mascot and keeps cheer-cursing the team the entire game. He hates football. So much.

[tragedyswept]

~ ɪ'ʟʟ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ, ᴅᴏᴡɴ, ᴅᴏᴡɴ, ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ .

NAME: Alina Aleksandra Eriksen.

AGE: Twenty-eight.

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Woman, She/Her

FACE CLAIM: Florence Pugh.

EYE COLOR: Brown.

HAIR COLOR: Brownish blonde.

HEIGHT: 5'2"

DATE OF BIRTH: March 1st, 1996.

ZODIAC SIGN: Aries.

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: High school diploma.

RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION: None

OCCUPATION: Bartender at the Black Rabbit.

GANG AFFILIATION: Unaffiliated for the moment.

HOMETOWN: Oslo, Norway.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Passionate and resilient.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Impulsive and chaotic.

~ 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙂𝙊𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿, 𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔, 𝘼𝙏 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙋𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙀?

tldr is my baby girl is damaged, big time, big emo vibes here.

tw: drug overdose, violence, death, cancer, sad times omg

alina is twenty-eight, been in tonpah for three months, is a bartender at the black rabbit and is currently unaffiliated, but baby that can change.

alina grew up as the only girl and youngest in the eriksen household in oslo, norway. she did love her hometown, from the beginning, she wanted more out of it and the life of strict obedience and emotional, physical training of the eriksens was something she never wanted.

her father and her butted heads at every turn, alina was supposed to be a strong, poised, put together young woman in her prime, to fight off anyone who would do harm to the eriksen family. unlike her brother, she wasn't made for the life her parents, mainly her father wanted.

she wanted to live, sneak out, have fun, and for this, she was punished mercilessly and often the black sheep of the eriksen clan. the only ally she felt she had was her older brother, who was also her best friend in the entire world. she could trust and tell him anything - she was also fiercely protective of him.

alina was only fifteen years old when her life turned upside down. she was used to the mob, used to the business deals, but already at fifteen, alina had made a name for herself for sneaking out, drugs, partying, much to her parents' chagrin. it was the night of her brother's supposed wedding - and it turned ugly - a night of pure despair and violence.

before she knew what hit her, her parents were seized by a coup, a family that wanted to take over and kill the eriksen clan - and they did just that. they killed her mother and father, right in front of her, at mere fifteen years old. the horrors, their screams, her father telling her in russian to look away, to be strong, be brave before he was murdered - it still plays in her head again and again, gives her nightmares. she could remember her own screams, feeling foreign.

she was dragged away from her brother, about to suffer the same fate when she was grabbed and saved at the last moment by her father's best friend, vince, and his wife, greta. they were an older couple, unable to have kids, and vince took it upon himself to care for the lone eriksen.

they fled to new york city, in the states, knowing that they couldn't risk her capture and alina was horrified, overwhelmed, broken apart. she had lost her entire family in one night - and could never see them again.

vince and greta took great care of her though, as if she were their own, and while she loved them deeply, she delved deeper into her darkness in new york.

she barely graduated high school, deep into her own drug addiction, frequenting bars on the lower east side, to party, get into her own trouble, anything to numb the pain. one thing did help: a boy.

meeting peter, her opposite in every way was a turning point. he was studying to become a doctor, a resident, and a shy, kind boy and she was chaos in every which way, a mess. the two of them fell into a toxic kind of love, riddled with drugs mostly, and he would steal from the hospital he worked in to get them.

darkness wrapped its arms around her even more when they both overdosed on her twenty sixth birthday - and she can still remember the emts working on her, when she begged them to work on peter.

she feels utmost guilt that they took her to the hospital, pumped her stomach and she regained consciousness, whereas peter never did and died. she feels responsible, like her own darkness killed him and it's another death she has to deal with, a horror that never fades. vince and greta got alina into rehab, that lasted, on and off, for about two years.

it wasn't until vince, her surrogate father, fell ill with cancer just nearly five months ago that it made her seriously get her act together - somewhat. vince, on his deathbed, finally informed her where her brother was - tonopah valley and how she could go to him now that he could no longer protect her.

alina was heartbroken at vince's death, but grateful to him and knew that a new life, a new beginning could make things better for her.

in tonopah valley for only three months now, reuniting with her brother, works as a bartender at the black rabbit, goes to NA and AA meetings, but not very sober, on and off, secretly.

[defneeey]

Maybe we don‘t need the universe to tell us what we want. Maybe we already know that, deep down.

Ted Mosby

[henrytheteddybear]

[kitschen-counter]

this song is danish wlw culture honestly and i can’t get it out of my head lately !

[loboenano-blog]

Tag Dump #2

Self Dad / Esteban Sean Lyla Brody Mushroom Chris Chris’ Dad Reynolds Mom Cassidy Finn

[lauraperfectinsanity]

Ultimate top 20 opts (movies, tv, comics, anime, manga)?

Do you mean OTPs right? Ok I’ll absolutely go with random order cause I can’t choose between some of these XD

TARLOS TK Strand and Carlos Reyes (9-1-1: Lone Star)

MALEC  Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters)

NAGRON  Nasir and Agron (Spartacus: Vengeance / Spartacus: War of the Damned)

DENSI  Marty Deeks and Kensi Blye (NCIS: Los Angeles)

SUNMUN Sun Bak and Kwon-Ho Mun (Sense8)

SHIKANARU Shikamaru Nara and Naruto Uzumaki (Naruto / Naruto Shippuden)

POLIVIA Olivia Dunham and Peter Bishop (Fringe)

WICKLING Billy Kaplan / Wiccan and Teddy Altman / Hulkling (Marvel Comics)

KAYSANOVA  Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicolò di Genova (The Old Guard)

BRETTSEY Sylvie Brett and Matt Casey (Chicago Fire)

THUNDERBLINK John Proudstar / Thunderbird and Clarice Fong / Blink (The Gifted)

BLAM Blaine Anderson and Sam Evans (Glee)

HERLITO Lito Rodriguez and Hernando Fuentes (Sense8)

STYDIA  Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf)

BUDDIE Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz (9-1-1)

NOMANITA  Nomi Marks and Amanita Caplan (Sense8)

MARSHMALLOW & LILYPAD Lily Aldrin and Marshall Eriksen (How I Met Your Mother)

WILL / LITO Will Gorski and Lito Rodriguez (Sense8)

NESS Nick Miller and Jessica Day (New Girl)

STELLARIDE  Stella Kidd and Kelly Severide (Chicago Fire)

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

“TK: You got up early to make pancakes!

Carlos: Yep. Are you happy, baby?

TK: Happy? Screw these pancakes, I should cover you in syrup and gobble you up.

Owen: You guys want me to leave the room, or…

Carlos: Your dad’s still home, by the way.

TK: Yes I gathered that, Carlos.

Mateo: Are those pancakes? Sweet!”

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

green carnations

ao3

(implied abuse, implied homophobia, implied incest, lw ending)

"What's this?" Daniel asks, tracing his hand over the flower tattooed on Chris's shoulder. Well, Chris assumes he means the flower and not the bite mark, Daniel knows where that came from.

"Uh, carnation. Green one." He turns his head slightly--it's still freaky to see Daniel with blond hair, especially since Chris's hair is still dark brown, side effect of getting sick of being told how much he looks like his dead mom. They look like photo negatives of who they used to be, especially tangled up on the bed like this.

Daniel doesn't say anything and Chris swallows, feeling like a dork as he tries to explain. "It's an, uh, Oscar Wilde thing, I guess? For dudes who like dudes, you know." He reaches the back of his neck, wincing when he remembers the other bite marks there. "Dad called me a fag again and I guess, you know. Might as well own it."

He gives a nervous little laugh, all too conscious of Daniel's tattoos, specifically the face tattooed on his chest. Sean Diaz's remaining eye stares at him dully, forehead mottled with a bullet scar arching across Daniel's collarbone.

Daniel's nail taps the bruised carnation and Chris wants to say I bleed just like him, you know. I'm real. I'm here. You can move on now. But that'd be cruel, and useless--Sean was his first love the same way he was Daniel's, and he didn't even belong to him the way Sean and Daniel did to each other. There's no replicating that.

But Daniel does sound like he's making an effort when he says, "I could kill him, you know."

Chris crushes the instinct to laugh--he may be dumb enough to wind up in bed with one of North America's most notorious murderers, but he's not dumb enough to forget that he's in bed with one of North America's most notorious murderers. If Daniel makes an offer to take a life, he fucking means it.

"No, I don't think that'd help," he admits, wriggling a little bit closer. "Thanks for asking, though."

"'Course." Daniel presses his lips to the carnation, soft and warm on Chris's aching skin. "Anytime."

[naturepointstheway]

Blue Skies of Freedom (LIS2, Parting Ways ending)

Sean doesn’t know if Daniel has survived the pandemic, and perhaps he never will, and perhaps this is why he still sends letters, still sends photos, because he doesn’t ever want to face the possibility that he hadn't. He hangs on to hope that Daniel lives, happy and healthy at the Reynolds’, best friends with Chris, in the USA. He hopes Daniel is safe from the horrors of a land festering with evil malice, a dark continent that had threatened to take his life and his brother.

People tell him Daniel’s probably dead anyway—it’s the USA, what should he expect? They insist Sean’s in denial, because in what world is Daniel safe in the fucking United States? They insist he’s living in an illusion of his own making. He should wake up to reality. To a world that will be no less hateful toward Daniel than it is to Sean.

Sean doesn’t give a fuck. If choosing to hope he lives in a world where Daniel is still alive and safe with the Reynolds makes him foolish, then so be it. Let him have this, let him think he hasn’t lost his younger brother like he had his father—doesn’t he deserve at least this drop of hope? If having faith Daniel is okay makes him deluded, at least he has that one hope to go on living day by day.

It’s not like he can go back to the USA anyway.

It’s not like he wants to, ever, even if it means forsaking his family and friends.

And, at least, staying in Mexico, he can convince himself that everyone he had ever loved had made it to the other side of the pandemic—at least he knows Finn and Cassidy and Hannah made it, but it fucking hurts knowing he’ll never know if Lyla made it either. He doesn’t even know if the Reynolds made it, nor Chris, nor Jake and his sister Sarah-Lee, nor Karen, nor anyone at Away.

Does he even want to know?

Maybe this is why he never goes back, he stays beyond the border, his feet in the warm sand, drinking cocktails, and enjoying a stunning beach view. Just as Finn had always wanted. In the bright sunshine, cloaked in eternally blue skies that never fade in their beauty. Azul cielo. It is the colour of freedom in a world where he doesn’t have to run from bloodthirsty hunters. It is the colour of Finn’s shining eyes when he had made it to Mexico, staying for a good time with Sean. It is the colour of warm water wrapping around his body when he skinny dips in the ocean at the height of day when the heat is at its fiercest.

In Sean’s Matrix, he chooses to swallow the blue pill. Azul. The colour of blissful, perhaps-foolish hope, of choosing to dream that somehow, somewhere, Daniel is okay and Lyla is alive, still kicking injustice in the face, making American society face its bloodied history of white supremacy. He saw her briefly on the news back in 2020, raw rage and fury, one of the many faces in the numerous Black Lives Matter marches around the USA. She is going to change the world. He has to believe in that too.

Is he selfish if he wants to stay here, in the land of freedom he had yearned for, his own promised land, having crossed the metaphorical Red Sea from a land of cruelty into a safer country where he could be free? If it makes him selfish, so be it. Then again…

Wasn’t it selfish of Daniel too, to suddenly change his mind, want to turn back, want to stay in the USA? If staying in the USA made Daniel selfish, then staying in Mexico meant that, perhaps, deep down, Sean was a selfish man too.

And if he were honest with himself, deep down, he was okay with that. At least he wasn’t running, wasn’t sleeping under bridges, wasn’t shivering in a rundown cabin in the middle of nowhere in winter, wasn’t always looking over his shoulder, and wasn’t always suspicious of every face he met. Here, he trusted people who looked like him, who spoke like him, who had a culture familiar to him from his father’s stories. Here, he didn’t have to worry about shelter, didn’t have to worry about shivering in the snow, didn’t have to worry about police being on his ass. He spoke virtually no English these days, except in the occasional letter to Daniel at the Reynolds’—if they were even alive, if they were even still in Beaver Creek.

How could this ever be a bad ending for him? Bittersweet, certainly, knowing he’ll never know if his photos and letters are being sent to a deceased brother, to deceased grandparents, but bad? Bad would be if he was fatally shot, choking on his own blood right as he crossed the border. Or, worse, it would be if Daniel had been shot—again—dying in the car seat next to him, through his own selfish actions.

Not that his actions were selfish—he’d had enough of all the fucking shit he’d suffered through in the USA; he hadn’t made it all the way to the border just to give up. Just to let himself fall into the hands of monsters as cruel—or crueler—than any king in history. Just to let Daniel fall into the hands of police—he’d wanted a better life for both of them.

But Daniel had made his choice.

He had chosen to stay in the USA, chosen to stay in that terrible land of cruelties.

And Sean had been helpless to do anything to stop him.

He had never felt so helpless in his life that day, knowing from then on, he would be alone except for the friends he’d make in Mexico, or for Cassidy and Finn passing through on their individual journeys. But then again, as Brody had once told him, “there’s a difference between alone and lonely…”, and now Sean really understood what he had meant. He was alone without his American family and friends, but he wasn’t lonely. Sure, at first he had felt lonely, but it hadn’t lasted long once he had started making friends who would keep him company through thick and thin. Friends who would stay strong by his side, who would rib his terrible karaoke singing, who would pile together in his car to go on random road trips around the country and beyond to the brim of South America itself, from Argentina to Chile.

Sean wouldn’t have it any other way.

Except once a year, every 11th April: Daniel’s birthday.

The last time he’d ever been there for Daniel’s birthday, the latter had been turning nine. Their father had been still alive. Everything had still been more than okay. Life had still been…normal. When normal used to be getting jitters over his crush for a girl at a party, skating with Lyla and the crew, fighting with his little brother on a daily basis, enduring his father’s dad jokes, and…

This was his new normal now. A new normal where Daniel chose—that was what he did, he had chosen—to stay in the USA. A new normal where Sean could never go back to the USA, could not know—if ever—if Daniel had survived the pandemic of 2020, where he had friends to hit the road whenever the desire hit them, where he was a free man. At least everywhere else on the planet but in the USA.

A new normal where he would never be there on Daniel’s birthday for a long time, if ever again.

Where he could never wish him happy birthday in person except in his sketches, in his head, in his heart.

Where he could never watch him grow up, experience the ups and downs of teenhood, of finding a new girlfriend (or boyfriend), of dating for the first time, of experiencing his first kiss, of graduating from high-school, of seeing him go to college for the first time.

Where Daniel could never assure Sean he was okay, he was alive, he was thriving, he was still best friends with Chris Eriksen.

Where Daniel could never prank Sean with his powers, just to tick him off.

Where Daniel could never come to him after a nightmare about Lisbeth.

Where Daniel could never come to him for comfort or just a chat, like he had so often done after Havenpoint.

Where Daniel knew Sean was alive…but Sean could never know if Daniel was too.

Did he know Sean didn’t know whether he was alive or dead?

Did he know?

Did he know?

Did he?

Did he ever lay awake at night, trying not to think how Sean would never really know he was still alive?

Did he ever jolt awake with the realisation Sean couldn’t tell him where he was now, except as hints through photos? Look, it’s the edge of the Amazon Rainforest! Look, it’s the mountains of Argentina! Look how blue the sky is! Look how beautiful the world is, where he is a free man, everywhere, except…

Except in a country that would hunt Sean down were he to put his address on the back of an envelope.

Except in a country that would never cease in its desire to throw Sean behind bars, never hesitate to beat him to a pulp again, would stare with empty and dry eyes as they shot him without mercy.

Except in a country that would somehow instantly know where he is, were he to phone Daniel, ever, no matter where he was. One video call through whatever video calling app was the hot shit these days, and the USA would hunt him down, tie him up, throw him into prison.

Throw him into hell.

Fuck that.

Especially that.

That bit.

The bit where he couldn’t know, couldn’t check if Daniel was doing okay, couldn’t talk to him in person, nor over a payphone, nor a video call. He couldn’t even slip a permanent address inside the envelope, because for sure, Daniel would write him back. Sean was sure he would, there was no way Daniel would never write back, ever.

So, Sean can’t do that. Not yet. Not now. No.

He will have to wait.

Maybe five more years. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.

Maybe when he’s old and grey and cataracts is blinding his remaining eye.

Maybe when he’s on his deathbed.

Maybe in the next lifetime where the wolf brothers could really grow up together in a safer country, in a safer time, in a safer normal. 

Maybe never.

[seaglassandeelgrass]

Now that it's officially autumn, here's the final tally of artists I saw live this summer (mostly at various folk festivals) -

The Mammals

The Lone Bellow

Ani DiFranco

Mavis Staples

Jay Ungar & Molly Mason

Joel Rafael

Del McCoury Band

Railroad Earth

Tom Paxton & the Don Juans

The Wailers

Tim Eriksen

The East Pointers

The Gaslight Tinkers

Rhiannon Giddens

The Suffers

Devil Makes Three

Low Lily

Mustard's Retreat

Wild Asparagus

Crys Matthews

Beth Nielsen Chapman

Stephen Kellogg

Martyn Joseph

Annie and the Hedonists

Quarter Horse

The Rowan Brothers

Ryanhood

Emma's Revolution

Pamela Means Band

Slambovian Circus of Dreams

Eric Lee

The Nields

Franklin County Sweethearts

[cleekleequlee]

Start low profile

Keep journaling / taking notes in the same place has been an impossibility for me all the time. For that I'm endlessly grateful of ROAM research (my memory prosthesis since October of 2020) and Day One (my scarce-journaling app since 2014). But sometimes a monologue is lonely and disheartening. If hypothetical audience even from the future can drive me write more, that would serve the purpose.

My time is mostly fragmented, so are my "researches" following a random walk of ever shifting interests. Nowadays I feel less uneasy about this wandering around. After all, knowledge is not readily there to be collected when it presents itself, rather I need to hear a name 5 times from different authors, another 5 times from latest papers to drive a wiki search, and maybe 10 additional times will go grab a book and read introduction. Knowledge is like the peanut I plant in water two days ago for my son's science experiment - the sprout is not yet there, but the pressure is building.

So today's plan (loose anyway) was to read (a bit of) two books, both on or related to narratives / story telling. Turned out the first (PhD thesis of Stuart Candy, on the topic of futures and design of "experiential scenario") is more on design futures than narratives, though narrative built through experience and design is indeed a form of narrative. The methodology of design futures and foresights are not unfamiliar from a summer "master class" took place a few years ago, but the more I grow into an evolutionist, the more I doubt the idea of planning, and foresight is no exception. Who would be able to identify the risk factor of RNA virus back in 2019, and project the future we are in now within just 3 years time? Changes are happening faster than ever, and the intercorrelation of events, say COVID and Ukraine, just blows my mind. Then the idea of human being able to steer its own destiny ... there are a few chapters worth digging in, especially on how experience can / has been used to construct alternative scenarios (and elicit feedback or start a discourse). I'm also interested in what depth a PhD thesis can go on the topic of politics and design / futures.

The other book by David Boje on Organizational Storytelling waited patiently for its turn for most of the day. I'm surprised to have picked up this author from Jennifer, last year PhD student in PolyU for his tags of "narrative", "becoming" and "organization" at the same time. Through him I realized there IS a postmodern stream of organizational studies - though judging from the frequency of publishing of the journal David created, the heterodox management science didn't gain much traction. Returning to the reading about corporate world can be relaxing - reporting line and hallway talks are much easier to understand than radical feminism. But it also reminds me of the importance of solid and concrete field work. The best research is always done with the richness of real life, which cannot be replaced by stacking theory upon theory.

To end the day I continued my reading of Engaging Anthropology by Thomas Hylland Eriksen (and also sneaked into Small Places, Large Issues for a crush course on field notes). This was kind of a continuation from bits of reading on autoethnography during COVID. I guess what I'm after is a (more) solid methodology and examples to help me with my field work to understand organizations and the values they operate with. Possibly that can also feed as one alternative way of "storytelling" within organizations.

So just one day's laundry list is telling on how disloyal I'm on research topics. It can be (and may well be) a disaster at certain stage. At least I still have months of luxury to drift to wherever it interests me.