#Milena Milena Ecstatic

[sparxyv]

Mousey Student ID 💙🐭

NOW 😏 time for Mousey's official introduction.. get ready for another huge infodump! (this one's even longer than Milena's I'm so sorry 😭😭)

Template by @kiwiplaetzchen !!! (Thank you again 😙🫶)

Family

Mousey is the youngest of four brothers. Clyde, Lachlan, and Magnus.

His three big brothers have long since moved out of the McGregor house, going on to become very successful each in their own ways. They were all sorted into Ravenclaw, and were all part of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team at some point in time.

Mousey's mother - Florence McGregor (née Prewett) - is Leander Prewett's father's sister (so Leander's aunt lol). She was sorted into Gryffindor!

Mousey's father - Fergus McGregor - was sorted into Slytherin when he attended Hogwarts. Naturally, he is very prideful and ambitious - oftentimes (accidentally) placing pressure on his sons to pursue things that are not in their interest to impact the family legacy in a meaningful way. Fergus genuinely cares for his sons, he's just unaware of the effect his words have on their psyche. 🙁

Fergus McGregor was a keeper for the Montrose Magpies for 3 years before Magnus was born, and after that he decided to settle down for good. Quidditch was his passion, and he was ecstatic when all his sons shared the same love for it.

The McGregors have resided in Irondale for generations! They have a quite small house for a large family - but fret not, it's bigger than it looks on the outside.

Mousey is 5 years younger than the brother closest in age to him - Clyde - while his three older brothers are each only about two years apart from each other. This feeds into Mousey feeling like an outcast in his own family. (Clyde - 20, Lachlan - 22, Magnus - 24)

Life Before Fifth Year

Growing up, Mousey had always been an exceptionally anxious AND impulsively loud child, so he found it was a miracle he made friends with Anne Sallow during his first week at Hogwarts. Anne was always terribly kind to him, helping him out when he needed a shoulder to lean on, giving him lots of encouragement - which he so desperately needed. Anne, being extremely mischievous, self-confident, and empathetic, she made the perfect best friend for Mousey.

Mousey wasn't exactly a permanent addition to the Sallow Twins and Ominis' little group, but they would hang out with Mousey more often than not. Up until fourth year, they were practically his only friends. (We'll get to this in a bit.. 😙)

In order to impress his father - Mousey started training on a broom as soon as he first attended Hogwarts, but his heart was only half in it. Although he was very talented with a broom, it was never a true passion of his.

Speaking of Mousey's true passion - he is deeply fascinated by wandlore/craft. Ever since he recieved his first book on wandcraft at the age of seven, he quickly became entranced by it. Mousey absorbed all the information he possibly could and constantly visited Ollivanders in Hogsmeade in his free time once he was allowed to by the school.

Sometime at the start of fourth-year Sebastian and Mousey got into a HUGE argument that quickly ended their friendship. After this argument occured, Sebastian practically banned Anne and Ominis from speaking or interacting with Mousey in any way out of sheer pettiness 😒. Mousey was heartbroken. While he would swear up and down it did not affect him, he genuinely loved Sebastian, Anne, and Ominis.. losing their friendship was difficult on him. Although, sadness quickly turned to anger and he held a big grudge against Sebastian. After the big fallout, he vowed he didn't need them - immediately going on a quest to make as many friends as possible. And ultimately, he did.. but it never felt the same.

Relationships

Like Milena, I'm planning on creating a separate series of posts going more in-depth with his relationships w/ characters - so take this list of his closest friends!

Ominis Gaunt

Anne Sallow

Milena Chase

Amit Thakkar

Everett Clopton

Andrew Larson

Samantha Dale

Duncan Hobhouse

Garreth Weasley

Leander Prewett

Eric Northcott

Poppy Sweeting

Arthur Plummly

Unnamed Students

Personality

MBTI - ENFP-T

Alignment - Chaotic Neutral

Mousey is a complicated type of extrovert. He grew up constantly fighting for attention - he learned quickly that he needed to be loud and to stand out to be seen. Mousey is the type of person to only want a few close friends, but a large circle. He loves socializing with everyone, typically coming off as very cheery and playful, yet more snarky + sarcastic with people he's more comfortable with. However, he's also very anxious. He's quite the overthinker - yet never exactly thinks ANYTHING through at the same time. He's the epitome of impulsivity.

In addition to him being anxious - Mousey cares too much of what other people think of him, especially the people he loves/looks up to. He finds himself constantly trying to impress his friends and family because he craves external validation to feel good about himself.

Mousey is very sensitive, but can oftentimes be seen as apathetic when it comes to heated moments. He's very much controlled by his emotions and feelings, which has put a strain in a lot of his relationships. Mousey feels emotions more intensely than most of his peers, his mood also being affected by the people around him. (Although when he's not blinded by his own feelings, he is actually very sweet and caring person. 😞)

If there was one word to describe Mousey - NOSY. As a Ravenclaw, he's obviously inclined to want to know as much as he can about anything. With that being said, he's a NASTY gossip. Mousey knows everything about everyone, always around and listening in the background.. 😊

Just like how it is in other parts of Mousey's life, he feels that he's an outlier in his Hogwarts House. Other than being curious and passionate about learning, he isn't as clever as other Ravenclaws - not great at riddles, oftentimes having trouble even entering the common room. So he tries his best to make the best of it, befriending his housemates, joining the quidditch team, etc.

When it comes to being active, he can make an exception for Quidditch - for his father - but other than that, he HATES physical activity. Unfortunately he's a bit on the cowardly side as well. He could be reckless and get a burst of confidence, but in general Mousey is terrified of dueling, sharp things, large creatures, and especially cats. You wouldn't usually catch him out in the Forbidden Forest, or in any of the hamlets far from Irondale.

Additional Fun Facts!

The only people who don't refer to him as 'Mousey' would be Ominis, Imelda, and Milena - all for different reasons.

Mousey actually likes his nickname, not minding it one bit - although, he doesn't remember how he got it.. but even the teachers have called him Mousey since his first year.

He used to have very prominent buck teeth up until he was 13, having them magically fixed (by Anne Sallow) after his big brother Clyde had made fun of them.

Mousey is the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and Keeper in sixth-year! 💙

Other than Sebastian, his nemesis at Hogwarts is Charlotte Morrison (whom Milena actually made friends with???). She just really irritates him in a way he can't describe. The feeling is mutual.

He is very close with a lot of the teachers, most notably Professor Fig and Professor Garlick.

Mousey makes wood-carving animals representing the people he loves, and keeps them in his dorm. (Some would be: Ominis - Bat, Anne - Fox, Sebastian - Snake, and the newest addition.. Milena - Eagle 💜 I like to imagine Mousey came to terms with his and Milena's friendship at one point and secretly made her little animal to keep 🥹) No one knows the meanings behind the animals but him. They are his to keep and to protect.

Bi icon 💙💜🩷

Had a crush on Adelaide Oakes in third-year. (his type is blondes I guess?)

Was nearly sorted into Slytherin, but the hat changed it's mind at the last second.

Raphael is the only feline that tolerates Mousey. (And vice versa)

Knows about the Undercroft.

[random-xpressions]

Her good nights are turned into my good mornings. Thus rotates the axis of their stories, beautifully blended by the forces of time and tide. One ends and the other begins. What a joyful way to wake up to - a message so sweet that soothes the soul, that calms my heart, that nourishes the spirit. At least some soul on earth could feel the things that are happening within, the little unknowns that we carry so secretly, often unspoken and yet she hears, for she too is of my kind, hiding far away at some mystical height, weaving her own little world, inside her head all the time, a heart so throbbing with life that I could hear her sing and see her dance all the time, vibrantly and so gracefully that even the stars would wish to come down and join her little whirlings on earth. What a comfort it is to have a friend that speaks the same language of my soul - the ancient, the divine unpronounced letters of silence, as though in every breath there's carried oceans of meanings and depths awaiting to be discovered. Ecstatic and euphoric all at once. We haven't met and yet from the heart of my heart I know our souls are blended. Oh what lightning bolt had struck me last night that I'm being too emotional at early dawn. Or should I be just presuming that my lips were kissed all night long while I was deep in sleep, someone arriving at my threshold in a dream that I've forgotten. I must cease my words now which are as overflowing that would disrupt the very channels of river, trespassing deep into the lands. Let me focus on the goal of reaching the grand sea. That's the ultimate meeting point - the river merging into the sea. The human blending into the divine. After that is just oneness - pure oneness - the union of essence...

Random Xpressions

In continuation, to the spirit of letters from Kafka to Milena...

[eveee-reads]

Yeoyu: More Mini-Reviews

First day back from holiday and here are some more Mini-Reviews of the Yeoyu series by Strangers Press 🌤📚🇰🇷

I was recently given a set of Yeoyu from Strangers Press, a series of eight chapbooks, each featuring a piece of Korean writing translated into English. Instead of writing longer reviews for each story, I have written a couple of reviews on the books I’ve read so far. If you haven’t already, be sure to check out my previous mini-reviews on the other half of the series.

Milena, Milena, Ecstatic…

[elaineonline]

𝗢𝗯𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗲 | 𝗧𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗙𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼

CHAPTER SEVEN

next on 𝗢𝗯𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗲 previously on 𝗢𝗯𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗲

warnings this chapter: strong language, oral sex (m.receiving), fluff, both Toji and reader are hopeless romantics, mental illness (implied)

summary : 3 years after murdering your ex husband, building a relationship with Toji Fushiguro is a struggle to keep what you've done in the past in the secret.

NOTE: one last chapter after this one… *cries* so sorry i’ve been a little lazy on the last couple of chapters (ノ﹏ヽ).. I hope you enjoy!

tags (^^;) ~ @m00dycr4nkybitc @bubs-world @brumous11 @tojisslvtsstuff @milena-xoxo @princesstiti14 @sage-ove

reblogs are fine with me :D

TWO DAYS LATER

It's been two days since you told Toji everything that has happened in the past, and to your surprise, he has opted to keep you around. You were ecstatic about it.

It felt like a large burden had been removed from your shoulders, and the relief you were experiencing was present.

You were currently wearing an ice pack on one arm as a result of Toji's horrible boxing class that next morning in his garage, while typing away on your laptop with the other hand, preparing for another day in fucking customer service.

You glance down at the time in the lower left hand corner of your computer and feel almost giddy at the prospect of only having to wait five minutes to get off.

Another reason you were excited was because you finally felt it was necessary to ask Toji over, one of the reasons being that his birthday is tomorrow, the other reason that you’ve never invited him over. You will be unable to see him because you have work and we’re forced to work through a later time.

But you invited him over tonight to prepare for him; you hadn't cooked in years due to all the takeout you'd order, which you knew was highly unhealthy. However, since you've become happier, you've chosen to resurrect your cooking abilities for him and yourself.

You also intended to show up at your parents ’ home in the same way she did at yours, in the hopes that she wouldn't transfer places. But you doubt she'd ever give up the house she's lived in since she was in her early twenties, the same house you've lived in since you were five years old. All you needed were answers, to know if your dream with your ex husband was correct. You also wanted to tell your daughter more, she's almost seven years old now, and you believe she deserves it, especially since you know you won’t see her often because of your parents.

You're still daydreaming about what you were thinking about and staring at the time on your computer clock when you hear a sudden knock at the door, jolting you both out of your daydream and thoughts.

“I didn’t order anything.” You mutter as you get from your couch and power walk to the front door.

This time since you’re somewhat sober, you glance through the peephole, there are no guarantees of what surprises could be there this time.

Through the peep hole, you see Toji's figure standing on top of your doormat, something you weren't expecting to see so early.

You immediately swing the door wide with the arm that isn't in pain, greeting him with a smile as you step to the side, a smile that he returns as he steps onto your hardwood floor.

“So you finally let me in, huh?” As he looks around, he says keeping a small grin on his face.

You hum as a response as you close and lock the door, then turn around to see him surveying the place, slightly apprehensive about what he was thinking.

"So what are you hiding?" he asks, turning his head back to you. because I see nothing wrong with the damn place.” he says in a curious tone.

the beer bottles that had taken up the damn residence on the flooring.

"Well, it wasn't always like this," you say before realizing work has probably ended and that you needed to clock out. Toji only observes you, as you cutely run back to your laptop and bend over to do so.

You close your computer and return your attention to him as he walks over to your kitchen table and takes a seat in the kitchen chair. And as you scanned his face, you could see how fatigued he appeared, as indicated by the dark rings that lightly covered beneath his eyes.

Toji would've gone home to rest before showing up at your door, but he wanted to come over and watch you cook the food before eating it, since he was so intrigued by the thought of watching you cook.

When you told him you could cook, he secretly couldn't believe it.

"Long day?" you remark, frowning, in a sympathetic tone that Toji adored, before stepping into your kitchen and getting your favorite apron from the counter top.

"mhm," he replies, crossing his arms and relaxing in his chair, little stressed by the number of people he had to kill today. Not because he had to kill them, but because there were so many.

Before coming up with a wonderful idea, you tilted your head and pondered to yourself for a second.

"Did you need any of that stress relieved before I started cooking?" You inquire, a little grin on your face, making eye contact with him, knowing he already knew what you were implying.

he chuckles a little and just responds, "sure." Before you give him a nod,

You walk over to the table, kneel down on your knees , and crawl under it, hoping not to knock your head in the process.

You tuck your hair behind your ears, and he grins at you. Before making eye contact with him, you return your gaze to his pants, putting your hand on the crotch area.

You were suddenly less concerned with your hurting arm and more concerned with pleasing him at the moment.

Before unbuttoning and dragging the zipper down from his pants, you bring both of your hands up on his jeans, balancing yourself on your clothed knees.

Toji was already intensely aroused, and he badly wanted this right now.

His cock was freed by your warm touch, causing his deep voice to hum gently, and that sound got you incredibly excited.

You raise the tip of his cock to your lips with the base of his cock before giving it a soft kiss as a thank you for the cum you were about to receive, causing it to twitch slightly.

You take a deep breath and open your mouth before carefully taking the entire thing, inch by inch. Toji groaned softly already starting to feel relief, giving you even more confidence.

You begin by gently bobbing your head with your eyes closed, mentally reminding yourself to do a fantastic job. This isn't the first or second time you've done so.

Toji places his big hand on your head, guiding you a little as you start to move at a more normal or whether 'faster' speed.

Toji adored hearing your small hums and moans as you took it all in stride with his cock in your mouth. Which, thanks to his reactions, you already knew.

Damn this is what her ex husband walked out on? Along with leaving her pretty face behind every night, he had to be mentally ill. Toji thinks.

Toji muttered under his breath every time he felt his tip, coupled with the vibration of your hums, hit the back of your gummy throat.

When you open your eyes to be greeted, you make eye contact with Toji's dark green eyes, which draws him even more over the edge as knowing he was soon going to spill into your warm mouth and down your throat.

As his fat cock stretched your mouth with each movement of your head, tears welled up in your eyes and saliva began to trickle from down and out of your mouth, onto the ground.

Toji brings his free hand to wipe away your tears using his large thumb while his occupied hand grips your hair.

With his rough voice, he slightly draws out the word "shit." and throws his head back before spewing his warm cum down your throat.

To avoid choking, you hurriedly swallow with his large cock remaining in your mouth before pulling him out with a loud 'pop'.

You smile up at him, trying to regain your breath, knowing you did an amazing job.

lowering his head back down, he gives you a grin along with a head pat as a ‘great job.’

~

Toji scarfs down the handmade lasagna you made with the recipe your grandmother gave you years ago as you watch slowly, your mouth also full of food.

At the sight in front of you, you stifle a small giggle while keeping your mouth closed. Now you're wishing you hadn't left your phone in your bedroom to film him.

you thought of the ‘Damn little lady! you sure can’t put it away.’ Audio on tiktok from the movie ‘White Chicks’ while watching him.

Toji noticed you staring at him while swallowing the food in your mouth, so he gives you a side eye, which makes you giggle even harder.

"It's great, isn't it?" And you questioned my cooking skills." When you stop laughing and glare at him, you taunt him, and he glares back.

Your eyes widen as he shoves the meal down his throat in one swallow. "Whatever," he adds, "you did fine kid."

You hum as you return your gaze to your plate, your fork still in your hand, and continue to eat; Toji follows suit and does the same thing, humming as well.

You thought it was cute for him to follow the things you did at times.

~

Toji lay there tickling you nonstop seconds before slamming you onto the bed. You were both currently in your bedroom which you guys traveled to after you two were done eating, the room which was smaller than his.

"Okay!" you scream in between laughs as you toss and turn in an attempt to escape being tickled on your sides or anywhere else, which he ignores.

This is what you get for casually trying to tickle him even though you know he hates it and forgetting he's much stronger than you.

"Say it!" He raises his voice with a grin on his face, removing his hands from your body but leaving them out, as if he expects you to say no.

He grips your body and pulls him closer to you while you collect your breath without saying anything. You say "I'm sorry!" because you're afraid he'll tickle you again. He grins, satisfied.

"I hate you," you joke while also smiling, burying your head against his firm, but comfortable chest.

He throws his arms around your body and grips you tightly but not too tight, kissing the top of your head before putting his head on top of yours. His gruff voice booms against his chest, "Shut up."

You blush at what he just did, as you normally do when you're in his presence. When you were with him, you’re so happy that you even noticed yourself drinking less, which is obviously a big deal for you.

You never imagined any man could make you feel this way in such a short period of time; you didn't even have feelings for your ex husband this quickly.

Toji felt the same way; in fact, when he first saw his wife, he didn't like her. Despite the fact that she had changed him.

Toji had a strong attachment to you, even on the rare nights that when you weren’t there. You’re always on his mind.

While you two were in this position, there was a pleasant silence; you were both feeling drowsy and would soon fall asleep. Toji was able to bring up Megumi from the day care later tonight, which was fortunate.

“Hey.” Toji interrupts the silence, his eyelids drooping slightly from the strain. "hmm?" you respond, your eyes already closed and your eyes fixed on darkness.

"Do you ever think about your daughter?" he asks abruptly. your pulse skips a beat as your eyes widen significantly, not at all expecting the question.

Toji planned to ask when you were recounting your past, but he decided to wait a little since you were having such a hard time explaining.

He merely wanted to know how you felt about being around his son more than your kid, so you huff before saying, "Everyday."

Toji just gives a nod before closing his eyes. When he does it, you can tell as you feel his chin goes up and down on your head.

You two were probably going to fall asleep this time if you fell into stillness again. You hoped there would be no questions this time, so you wouldn't have to dwell about it all night.

“I love ya’ kid.” Toji mumbles before collapsing into a deep sleep.

Your heart drops in astonishment As you sat with the words for a few minutes, hoping it wasn't the glass of wine just speaking for him.

But he’s a heavyweight. you thought.

Even when you feel yourself falling in and out of sleep, his words continue to reverberate in your thoughts after a few moments.

Until the final words, “I love you too.” take over your brain before falling into a deep rest.

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Hey Milena!!! I was hoping you could write a 💡on Fred when he finds out that his daughter is dating a Slytherin boy and how he reacts and discusses it with Slytherin!Reader? Xx

Join the celebration!

Hi love!! Coming right up!

Fred on his daughter dating a Slytherin boy 🐍

I think obviously, since his s/o was a Slytherin, Fred got rid of his serious prejudices towards that house

he knows they're not all snakes, death-eaters or just regular assholes

the love of his life being the proof

but when his daughter, his little princess comes back from Hogwarts one time and announces she's got a boyfriend, he's not ecstatic

but she's happy, so he's a supportive dad

though when his s/o asks her to tell them a little bit more about the boy and the sentence "he's in Slytherin" falls

he doesn't even realise when "He's in what?!" comes out of his mouth

all the progress he's made since his own school days when it comes to the house rivalry go out the window

he imagines the absolute worst about the boyfriend

who definitely manipulated his sweet little girl, just to break her heart, or worse, make her into one of them

over his dead body

his daughter is not having it and just leaves to lock herself in her room

so his s/o calls him out on his bs

"Yeah, but you're you, you're not...!" "I was in Slytherin, I have friends who were in Slytherin, so, your point?"

he's frustrated with himself, he knows rationally, they're both right

but that's his little girl!

and I believe his s/o would understand, so they wouldn't really take serious offence

and in time, with little steps, he'd make an effort

apologise for being an idiot, show support to his daughter

even, to everyone's surprise, suggest inviting him over

and he tried to keep his guard up, but in the end, he couldn't dislike someone his daughter loves

[gymfanconfessions]

1. “ I’m ecstatic about Boryana getting aa gold in cluji’s last aa before worlds, and i’m also happy for Milena’s silver but i wished Trubnikova would have earned something more than bronze 😔 “

2. “ I know it only happened because italy was the only big team competing in cluji, but seeing germany and france getting silver anc bronze in a world cup made me so happy! Fingers crossed it could mean they’re improving to return to their old glories “

[alwaysalreadyangry]

Bae Suah, translated by Deborah Smith, from Milena, Milena, Ecstatic

[heart-of-flames]

Pre-relationship ROs stumble on an intimidating or cold MC being all soft with their dragon? As in is super patient and indulgent, has all sorts of terms of endearment, and is just generally very sweet. Mc just doesn't have much tolerance for rich and/or racist assholes and so gets very aggressive with certain peers. Their reputation probably isn't great. I'm easily as excited for HOF as I am POF (spoiler alert, its a lot!) and I can't wait to read them both, cheers!

(Thank you so much ❤. When I finally get a laptop I'm going to begin working on the demo for HoF, which I hope you all will enjoy.)

Aeleanor/Aeson: Their eyes would soften at the soft coos you were making. Watching as your mannerisms reflected that of your dragons. A smile beginning to pull at their lips at the sight. Warmth spreading across their body at being able to see the real side of you.

Elaria/Ezra: Blue eyes sparkle in the dim light of the setting sun. A normally jovial face pulled taut with concentration. Shoulders stiff with indecision. Seeing you act so openly with your dragon would make them angry. Not at you, but at the world in general. You should be able to show your true colors to everyone. And not feel the need to put on a mask.

Catherine/Caleb: Hazel eyes watch with sadness tinged within their depths. They hate that you would have to be so aggressive on a daily basis. Not that they blame you, but it would hurt their heart to know that it wasn't your true self. They want nothing but the best for you and your dragon.

Lydia/Luca: A slow smirk would make its way onto their face. Not being able to help their innate reaction to seeing you. To seeing the way your body moved so effortlessly. Hearing the softness of your voice and the chirps of your dragon would cause them to soften, however. Their eyes taking on a much more familial look.

Samara/Silas: A large grin would pull across their face. Honey colored eyes glowing with at the sight. Their body already thrumming with energy. They would be ecstatic to see you being so open, and hope that someday you'll be that way with them.

Milena/Maven: Seeing you so carefree would awaken something within them. Not that they would know what it means, but they would cautiously welcome it all the same. Happy that not everything is as it always appears.

Natalia/Nikolas: A thoughtful frown would pull at their brow as they watch you. They thought that they had you all figured out, but seeing you now... it disrupted everything that they thought they knew. Instead of getting annoyed, however, a slow smile would form on their lips. They always did like a challenge.

Lauren: A warm smile would blossom on her face. Her eyes glowing with the residual effect of it. The feeling would grow the longer she gazed upon you. Not believing that something so precious was hidden away for so long. It would make her promise herself that she would see it again one day, and hopefully it would be directed at her.

Faolan: Red eyes shine with adoration as they gaze at the sight before him. He couldn't believe that you were a hidden softie, and that you were so patient. It would shift everything he had previously thought about you. Meaning that he would have to keep a closer eye on you. For research purposes, of course.

Aidan: His countenance would hold a somber air about him. His dual colored eyes shining with sadness. He would hate that you felt like you couldn't be yourself in front of others, but he would try to push his sympathy down. He knows what would happen if he allowed himself to fall for you.... he just couldn't deal with that kind of fallout.

[evaawagnerr-blog]

[ cisfemale , she/her , milena tscharntke , 19 ] i think i just saw EVA WAGNER looking down at their phone in the middle of lecture hall . i wonder if they think that will help them get through their PSYCHOLOGY major . i’m sure professor baker doesn’t mind , though , especially since EVA can be so + CHARMING . then again , SHE can be a little - CLOSED-OFF , so maybe prof b will mind after all . what do you think is catching their attention all of a sudden ? surely it can’t be more pictures of   NOVELS. hey , you know , sometimes they really remind me of REDDENED LIPS, TWINKLING STARS ON A CLEAR NIGHT & A CRACKLING WINTER FIRE , but maybe that’s just me . oh well . i hope their FRESHMEN year is treating them well ! {Brittany O’Grady car accident connection}

Henry and Isla Wagner moved from Germany six months after they gave birth their first and only child, Eva. Believing that America truly was the land of opportunity for them and their small, yet complete family. It was there that settled into small town USA life, the Wagner’s opening up a local grocery store in their small, yet tight knit town- their open and welcoming natures easily made them accepted among the new townsfolk.

As Eva got older, her parents pushed her into a variety of activities, though Eva didn’t seem to take to any of them, there seemed to be one she showed talent for and that was gymnastics. Her parents ecstatic that their daughter seemingly found her niche at a mere five years old, Eva’s grueling routine began.

For the next thirteen years, Eva’s life consisted of attending school, studying during her free periods and than training with her gymnastics coach five days a week, getting home at roughly 10pm and than spending the next two hours finishing off the rest of her homework.

Despite being dedicated to gymnastics, Eva was still expected to perform well in school and work in her parents grocery store on weekends. Leaving not much else for the young woman to do, social life seemed like a distant fantasy to her.

Despite competing at a national level for Gymnastics, Eva was still expected to attend University just in case her parents dreams of her becoming an international gymnast weren’t found. After various acceptance levels from a variety of colleges, Eva finally settled on Powell University, that was two towns away from her parents and where she had grown up.

It was during her first year at Powell that she discovered freedom- though she still trained vigorously for gymnastics, Eva was no longer under the strict, watchful eyes of her parents. It was there she had her first sip of alcohol, danced until 2 am in the morning, could choose when to study and when not to study. Despite her newfound freedom, she still managed to keep up her grades and stick with her gymnastics training.

Everything seemed to be going perfectly for Eva; she had just been accepted to an international gymnastics summer camp the day before and had finally slept with someone for the first time and her parents were allowing Eva to have even more freedom when it happened..

Eva had been going on one of her night late runs, something that had always calmed her when suddenly she was blinded by bright lights and than she felt nothing.. she vaguely remember the sound of sirens, voices fading in and out around and excruciating pain.

She woke up five days later in a hospital bed, her parents sleeping in uncomfortable chairs either side of her and that’s when she was informed that she had been hit by a car. The car causing her to break her left leg in three places, fracturing her spine, some minor head damage and a broken wrist, she was lucky really, it could’ve been much worst or at least that’s what people kept telling her.

Rather than spend her summer at her gymnastics camp or partying with friends, Eva spent it back in her childhood home with daily physiotherapy, a variety of drugs and learning her basic motor skills again. It was there she was informed that her dreams of being an internationally ranked gymnast were dashed; her left leg would never heal the same and she may have a minor limp for the rest of her life.

Eva’s parents seemed more devastated than Eva was about her dreams being ripped away, in a way Eva felt relief, knowing she would never have to try and meet their almost impossible standards ever again. It took some convincing and even pleading but eventually her parents complied and Eva was allowed to return back to University, at least she could be something, they believed, even if it wasn’t what they wanted.

Still recovering from the accident, Eva is struggling slightly with her new life, knowing she had no more hours long gymnastics training and instead the freedom to pursue other things, it feels as if the world has finally opened up for Eva and she’s more than eager to explore all the possibilities it has to offer.

The hard facts:

Never really talks about how much pressure her parents have placed on her. Instead just saying they were very strict.

Has loosened up a lot since the accident and no longer having gymnastics looming over her, she’s definitely a lot more presence at parties and has become much more casual about relationships.

Refuses to talk about the accident, insisting she can remember nothing about what happened.

Doesn’t want to lose her figure, so still works out regularly and has even started running again but during the day and not on busy roads.

Heard a rumor that the car that may have hit her, left a party that was happening that night, causing Eva to start asking questions around, wanting to find out as much as she can.

Still has to attend physiotherapy twice a week and still walks with a slight, almost unnoticeable limp. Her leg seizes up sometimes, causing immense pain but Eva has learnt to manage it.

Has become somewhat dependent on her pain medication, though she keeps that hidden away

Here are a list of possible wanted connections for Eva! But I’m also always happy to brainstorm.

[izabellagifs]

Emilia King Bio & WC

Hey everyone, here is just a look at the biography I had written for Emilia and some wanted connections to fill out. If you’re interested in plotting feel free to shoot me a message (:

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Ivory Syndicate

Trust My Blood: Someone that Emilia has known for ages, this person almost serves as a protector. They’ve lied to keep her safe from the King’s secrets, and Emilia has blind faith in every word they say. ( Zephyr Jackson ) 

You’re A Mystery: Why wasn’t she allowed near them? Emilia has been forbidden to speak with this person, but her curiosity may just get the best of her. (   ) 

You and I: An unlikely friendship, but one that Emilia considers to be her closet. This person is her rock and she is theirs, even if she doesn’t know all their secrets. (     )

The Vittori

Burn Me Alive:  They always seem to appear at strange times, like a shadow that’s just waiting to set her ablaze. She’s been too coy to approach these watching eyes, but just maybe one day she’ll ask why. (   )

Outsider

Just Next Door: Someone who is neighbours with Emilia, they haven’t interacted much but meet on the unlikely occurrence of getting locked out. ( Andre Bouchard ) & (    )

Blame It on the Alcohol: Maybe it was the gin and tonics that impaired judgment but an evening in Montreal resulted in being between sheets with a stranger (  Henri Phillipe ) & (    )

Looming Justice: As Emilia occasionally helps at the police office for an internship to cover her criminal forensics minor, this person seems to be asking a lot of questions that she doesn’t have many answers to (     )

BIOGRAPHY

New York was a place for dreamers, a city that glittered like a thousand fireflies at night and screamed of opportunity in the day. But under that beautiful facade was untamed darkness, one called King. The Ivory Syndicate was a force to be reckoned with. They had their hands in everything: local businesses, the cartels, the listening ears of your neighbours. As Marco and Milena dominated the city that never sleeps, the Kings welcomed home a new addition to their family. Emilia Celeste was born on a frigidly cold day in February but the tendrils of frost couldn’t overpower the warmth that filled that room. Their little girl was a healthy baby, wriggling about in a blanket when Marco King locked eyes with her. As he stared into her brown eyes an overwhelming sense of responsibility crossed over him. Marco glanced at the hospital doors, manned by two capo, at his jacket that held a concealed gun that had taken the lives of too many. How could he raise a child in that kind of world… how could he let his child know that kind of evil? It hit him almost immediately: he couldn’t. His wife seemed to understand that concern just the same and with a knowing nod, a pact grew in the silence between them. Emilia was to never learn about who the Kings were or what they did.

Though she was a King, Emilia’s life resembled that of a modern-day princess. Manhattan was her playground and any wish she could possibly have came true. Surrounded by a loving family, her childhood was a happy one. Family friends coddled her as though she was their own, her parents showered her with affection and joy. There was never a quiet moment in the house, with people coming and going at every moment. Emilia could turn any corner and find a smile, her big brown eyes and infectious laugh even making the angriest of capo grin. While her life was relatively carefree, Marco stressed certain rules. When business was occurring, Emilia was to be on another floor of their penthouse. There was no talk of violence, of raids or anything remotely associated with the Syndicate once she was in the room. Ignorant bliss. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

Emilia had the privilege of attending Birch Wathen Lenox school, one of the most expensive private schools in New York. It wasn’t until she stepped foot in Lenox that she started to understand the weight of her name. Eyes gawked at Emilia as though she was something out of a dream. She couldn’t help but notice the whispers, how her fellow students treated her like a ticking time bomb. Emilia could remember going home after a day of lessons, confused and upset. Her father had found her in the stairwell, wiping away a tear before giving her an explanation. They’re jealous of what we have… he said with confidence… our family is a very lucky family, and they're intimidated by who we are. Marco spun a tale of wealth to his daughter’s ears, all based on the right timing and entering the proper businesses. And Emilia, being the ever so trusting daughter, believed it all.

By the time she entered middle school, she’d ignored it all. Emilia threw herself into her studies and extracurriculars, after all, she was King. A member of one of the most prominent families in New York. To have such a name meant expectations were heavily placed on her shoulders. She’d begun to show promise in her academics and was quickly given a spot in the gifted program. Emilia joined a few clubs like Lacrosse and her drive eventually led her to steal the spot of captain. To the outside eye, Emilia King was perfect. Her personality was loved by her fellow students and teachers, she had talent in almost everything she touched. However, as she had won the favor of many, Emilia noticed one person who seemed repulsed by her. Giancarlo Palma. A boy. Who was the son of a family that her father claimed were no good, rivals who tried to ruin the King enterprises by dirty business shots.

While in class or in the lunchroom she could feel his eyes almost boring into her skin. One day, when feeling brave, she approached him. With an accusation, the conversation escalated to shouting match. Your family is full of murders. The words landed heavy on her head. What on earth was this boy talking about? Stunned into silence, Emilia was full of confusion and anger. How could Giancarlo claim such a thing, especially against her family? The Kings donated to charities, helped local businesses that otherwise would be failing and were generous… kind. They had a perfect track record. You don’t even know, do you? His tone was smug and for one of the first times in her life, the perfect Emilia King did something regretful. The punch she threw echoed throughout the cafeteria, shocking every bystander that was in the area. Almost immediately, Giancarlo pushed back. Bigger than Emilia, it didn’t take much for him to overpower her. By the time two staff member pulled them apart, Emilia had countless bruises and cuts, toting what looked to be the beginning of a black eye while Giancarlo stood with a broken nose, seething and venomous. We’re going to fucking kill you, might as well ask your father why before it happens. He was dragged off by a teacher.

To say that she was shellshocked was an underestimate. Emilia was immediately sent to the infirmary, where she was promptly greeted by her father and the principal. Thousands of questions rang about in her brain as she watched the two discuss her ‘out of character’ behavior. As her father pulled Principal Abbott into the hall,  Emilia couldn’t get Giancarlo’s last words out of her mind. We’re going to fucking kill you… might as well ask your father why… She’d never seen hate consume someone like that, scared that she believed what he may have said. The discussion didn’t last long between her father and the man, and a nervous Principal Abbott agreed to two detentions as a punishment before sauntering off to his office. All at once, everything spilled out of Emilia. She detailed exactly what happened to Marco, hoping to hear something that would quell her sudden worry and bewilderment at the exchange with Giancarlo. Yet another thing occurred that she didn’t expect. Her father’s reassuring voice and explanation didn’t fully convince her. Not after seeing Giancarlo’s face, his hostility, how he claimed to know something she didn’t.

A few weeks had passed by from the exchange when Emilia woke up to a bizarre news report. Giancarlo Palma was missing. A sick feeling in her stomach started to form. She couldn’t help but feeling an inkling of terror… had her family done something…? No. Emilia did her best to brush off the thought but it had implanted itself in the back of her mind. With rose-colored eyes, she attempted to move on from the incident. To be her normal self. But every once in a while, certain things began to look cloudy. How she wasn’t allowed to be even 100 feet within a business meeting.How a family friend had a mysterious blood stain on their sleeve that claimed to be a razor cut from shaving. At night, she followed the story surrounding Giancarlo on her phone, almost hiding her investigation from her parents.

Emilia’s suspicions didn’t end when she entered her senior year but other thoughts started to occupy her mind. College. Applications came and went, and although she had a small scuffle with Giancarlo, Emilia maintained the fact that she was a star student. Offers began arriving at the King doorstep, but one interested her family. McGill University, a school located in Montreal, had sent her a potential scholarship letter. When Milena heard about the opportunity, she was almost ecstatic though the school had never been one Emilia considered. Her sight had been set on Brown or Standford, maybe Princeton like her father. Emilia had always been easily influenced by her parents, and the push from her mother was undeniable. Looking through her offers, Emilia accepted a full ride to McGill University to study as an English major.

Emilia seemed to fit in at McGill, and the change of scenery was welcome. She enjoyed her classes, taking multiple cores to satisfy her general eds. While studying, she found herself falling in love with criminal forensics and promptly changed her major to the pre-law track while a sophomore. She’d almost forgotten all about Giancarlo Palma when one day her professor announced that they would be analyzing the Palma case… Emilia hadn’t even known that his body had been found. Tucked away in the Hudson River, it surfaced during her freshman year in a tangle of chains and bricks. Her professor lamented about suspected foul play that may have involved a dangerous rivalry between families. Once again, the shadow of doubt began to creep into Emilia’s head…

Later that month, Emilia received a call from her mother Milena: she was moving to Montreal. It was a sudden change, one that Emilia couldn’t quite find reason in. Her mother loved New York, and what business did they have in Canada other than their daughter studying there? The day Milena King arrived in Montreal, Emilia noticed that things were changing. Eyes started to stare at her differently, just like they had her entire childhood in New York. And strangers were taking an interest in her like that hadn’t before… something was happening and this time, Emilia King would not let it go.

[random-xpressions]

Her good nights are turned into my good mornings. Thus rotates the axis of their stories, beautifully blended by the forces of time and tide. One ends and the other begins. What a joyful way to wake up to - a message so sweet that soothes the soul, that calms my heart, that nourishes the spirit. At least some soul on earth could feel the things that are happening within, the little unknowns that we carry so secretly, often unspoken and yet she hears, for she too is of my kind, hiding far away at some mystical height, weaving her own little world, inside her head all the time, a heart so throbbing with life that I could hear her sing and see her dance all the time, vibrantly and so gracefully that even the stars would wish to come down and join her little whirlings on earth. What a comfort it is to have a friend that speaks the same language of my soul - the ancient, the divine unpronounced letters of silence, as though in every breath there's carried oceans of meanings and depths awaiting to be discovered. Ecstatic and euphoric all at once. We haven't met and yet from the heart of my heart I know our souls are blended. Oh what lightning bolt had struck me last night that I'm being too emotional at early dawn. Or should I be just presuming that my lips were kissed all night long while I was deep in sleep, someone arriving at my threshold in a dream that I've forgotten. I must cease my words now which are as overflowing that would disrupt the very channels of river, trespassing deep into the lands. Let me focus on the goal of reaching the grand sea. That's the ultimate meeting point - the river merging into the sea. The human blending into the divine. After that is just oneness - pure oneness - the union of essence...

Random Xpressions

In continuation, to the spirit of letters from Kafka to Milena...

[ofeviscerates]

@theswedcs​

‘ what a damn day. ‘ milena’s jaw hurt from pretending to be ecstatic in pictures with her fans, and her hands were sore from autographs. a headache had started about an hour ago from the loudness of the crowd. it’s not that the femme wasn’t happy that her fans adored her, or that they had something to turn to when she’d never had that. but it was nauseating. the crowds, the cameras, the paps that never could stay out of her business. so, where would she go? meet up with a friend at a local bar, because the bar was her home away from home. settling into a stool at a table, far from the rest of the patrons lined along the bar; milena gave an exhausted smile to her friend. ‘ i could go for anything with a little bit of vodka or tequila, you? ‘

[sailorfrill]

The Sunflower

Princess Milena stared out the hallway window at the castle gardens, looking at nothing in particular. The flowers swayed gently in the wind, making then appear to be putting on a little dance for the teenage princess. The sky was darkening, a rainstorm about to pass over her castle. The scenery matched her mood. She felt like her heart was darkening and a storm would blow through her. But it would last much longer then the real storm would. Princess Milena had just finished visiting her sick mother, a short visit because her mother's condition worsened by the hour. The castle's physician gave her and her father the most crushing news; The Queen will not likely live to see the next full moon. So here The Princess stood, staring at the gardens, trying to comprehend everything that was happening. The wind picked up and blew strands of her hair around but she paid no mind to it. "Excuse me, Princess?" She heard a voice beside her and turned to see who it was. It was her old friend Dagger. His black hair and matching wolf features, the fuzzy ears and tail, seemed more noticeable in the greying lighting. Dagger bowed to her, careful not to reveal what he held behind his back. "Oh, Hello Dagger. What brings you to this side of the castle today?" The Princess asks as she eyes his hidden arm, a small smile dances on her lips. She was happy to see him. Just seeing him was already helping to calm down that storm she felt beginning inside her. "My training ended early today and I wanted to pay my respects to The Queen." He stepped a little closer to her and continued. "Also I wanted to give you this. I know this must be a hard time for you but seeing you so sad all of the time kind of worries me. I hope this small gift can help you feel just a little bit better." With a sad but warm smile Dagger pulls out a Sunflower from his back and holds it out to her. Most of it's stem was still attached, giving it the appearance of a flower staff. Princess Milena was taken by surprise. There were no Sunflowers on the castle grounds so Dagger had to have gone out of his way to get one. His knight training kept him busy most days and was one of the reasons they didn't spend as much time together now as when they were children. So it touched her that he would go through the trouble. "Ah, for me? Thank you! It's beautiful...." She took it from him and admired it's bright yellow pedals, softly caressing a few. "Please, it's not good enough with this tragedy affecting The Queen and you continuing to be my friend even though I'm a werewolf." The Princess was starting to feel a bit more then touched. She was starting to feel ecstatic for some reason. Sure she has gotten simple gifts from other boys before but this one from Dagger just felt extra special. Dagger then took her hand that caressed the pedals and kissed it gently. Princess Milena's face turned a shade of red. She had already started to feel strange whenever Dagger was around for the past few months and now he was making that feeling stronger. 'What is this feeling?' she thought. She hasn't been able to figure it out. It was like he made her nervous but euphoric at the exact same time. Strange, she didn't have these feelings before and they have known each other since she was 10. The only thing that has changed now is they are both teenagers. Well, Dagger did hit a growth spurt and has gotten quite tall. Plus his training was building muscle that was starting to show through his clothes, so that counts as a bit of a change. Dagger released her and turned on his heel. "Well, I should go before the physician stops letting us visit The Queen. I hope your afternoon is a good one, Princess." He bowed to her one more time and made his way down the long hall. She watched his back until he disappeared then turned back towards the garden. The Princess however didn't look out the window again but kept admiring her new sunflower. She loved Sunflowers but they couldn't be grown on the castle grounds for some reason she couldn't remember right now. Funny, this tiny gesture from him made her heart flutter and she did in fact feel a little better.

[hsap2017-blog]

For weeks, the Heritage Project Committee planned and prepared for an end-of-program event that would showcase every Apprentice's culture. Their work ultimately culminated in the event  Our Heritage, Our World: MJH HSAP Heritage Fair 2017! To ensure that every Apprentice’s heritage was represented, the Heritage Project Committee gathered information about different aspects of our cultures. This was done through the collection of music, artifacts, and food from our respective backgrounds. 

For us, the fair began with the setting up of stations dedicated to each person’s heritage. Many Apprentices brought food and wore clothing that represented their heritage in addition to their other artifacts. The ball finally got rolling once every item was set in place! Staff members galore came flooding in to learn about the different backgrounds of the Apprentices and we were all ecstatic to present our objects to them. In Apprentice Amanda’s speech, she outlined a few reasons about why it is fundamentally important to hold an event where an assortment of cultures is embraced. From the Makowiec (Poppy Seed Roll) that Apprentice Milena graciously brought in to Apprentice Lee’s tasty Dulce De Leche cake, all guests were invited to delve into the many aspects of our cultural identities. Apprentices Burhan and Stacey wore traditional garments from their respective heritages, increasing the liveliness of the event! 

“Learning as much as possible about each other can lay the foundations for tolerance and respect. This is one of the main reasons why I wanted to join the Heritage Project,” Amanda described in her speech at last Wednesday’s event. 

While munching on foods from different cultural backgrounds, guests also enjoyed listening to music that represented each Apprentice’s background. Guests also had the opportunity to learn new words in the languages of our cultures. 

The event was a success! Everyone had a fantastic time immersing themselves into the heritage of the Apprentices!

Above are photos of Apprentices showcasing their cultures through food, clothing, and artifacts during the Heritage Fair! 

[caveartfair]

Sharon Lockhart Revives Nazi-Era Children’s Newspaper for Venice Biennale

Portrait of Sharon Lockhart in the Polish Pavilion at the 57th Venice Biennale, 2017. Photo by Casey Kelbaugh for Artsy.

On October 9th, 1926, in a Jewish orphanage in Warsaw, a group of child reporters put out their first issue of Little Review, a supplement to the mainstream Polish broadsheet Our Review. Some 80 years after its last issue went out in 1939, this newspaper has found its way to the 2017 Venice Biennale.

At the Polish Pavilion, the American artist Sharon Lockhart is presenting a project that orbits around the little-known publication. The exhibition presents the first-ever English-language translations of Little Review alongside a new film and photographs by Lockhart, the product of ongoing work and friendship with the residents of the Youth Center for Socio-Therapy in Rudzienko, Poland, a state home for girls.

Little Review was the brainchild of the children’s advocate, pediatrician, and orphanage founder Janusz Korczak, who was instrumental in establishing children’s rights. He also served as the paper’s editor. In a first letter to its future readers, published on October 7, 1926, he outlined their mission. Little Review would consider all matters concerning young people and schools, including the following beats: football, cinema, trips, jokes and pranks, charades, and riddles.

The Polish Pavilion at the 57th Venice Biennale, 2017. Photo by Casey Kelbaugh for Artsy.

“In that letter, Korczak welcomed any capable writer. No one was turned away,” Lockhart said. Among other stipulations, Korczak noted that the newsroom would have two waiting rooms, one for grown-ups and one for kids, and that it would have telephone lines open at all hours of the day to field the concerns of Poland’s youth. The paper, published twice a day, would always be edited with children’s best interest in mind. Another important guideline: “IN THE MORNING EDITION, THERE WILL BE A LOT OF PICTURES.”

Lockhart has been researching the heroic work of Korczak—who, during Hitler’s Third Reich, would decline rescue in order to accompany the children of the Warsaw ghetto on their journey to a Nazi death camp—for several years. And now, with the high-profile Venice Biennale as leverage, she’s finally been able to gain access to the 677 original issues of Little Review, publishing selections of that archive throughout the run of the show.

The Polish Pavilion project moves between this rich historical record and Lockhart’s present-day interactions with girls from the therapy center in Rudzienko, for whom she has assumed a Korczak-like mentor role. “This is a pavilion about young women in Poland right now,” Lockhart said, sitting outside of the space during the Venice Biennale’s press preview. “It’s a portrait of childhood.”

Installation view of work by Sharon Lockhart at the Polish Pavilion at the 57th Venice Biennale, 2017. Photo by Casey Kelbaugh for Artsy.

Installation view of work by Sharon Lockhart at the Polish Pavilion at the 57th Venice Biennale, 2017. Photo by Casey Kelbaugh for Artsy.

During a 2009 research trip, Lockhart met a nine-year-old, Milena Slowinska, who became something of a muse for the artist. “When she was 12, Milena was moved into different homes, and she ended up in Rudzienko in 2013,” said Lockhart. “I developed workshops for her and her friends at the center because she told me she wanted to write a book about her life.” Those workshops led to “Milena Milena,” a 2015–16 exhibition at Gladstone Gallery, and Lockhart’s 2016 film Rudzienko, which was exhibited at The Arts Club of Chicago.

The ongoing relationship continues inside the white-stone Polish Pavilion in Venice, where Lockhart has on view a stack of translated Little Review papers and photographic and filmic portraits of the Rudzienko girls. In addition to making periodic visits to see the girls in Poland, and organizing regular workshops for them, Lockhart also involved them deeply in her research of the groundbreaking kids’ paper. (They helped her select specific issues for the pavilion.)

Three large-scale photos in the pavilion show two of the girls reading original copies of the paper. An accompanying film features six of them in a black proscenium space. In one scene, five girls, dressed in casual clothing (a Justin Bieber t-shirt, a sweatshirt with “Brooklyn” emblazoned across it), act out gestures and repeat words—“Love,” “Hate,” “Hope,” and “Cry”—that they selected from letters they wrote to Lockhart.

In another scene, a girl plays the piano while staring confrontationally into the camera. And in a third vignette, two girls dance ecstatically, the footage slowed down to capture in more detail their expression of empowerment and joy.

Installation view of work by Sharon Lockhart at the Polish Pavilion at the 57th Venice Biennale, 2017. Photo by Casey Kelbaugh for Artsy.

Lockhart, whose artwork has long engaged with working class communities, is particularly interested in giving young women a voice. She notes that she began work on the pavilion the day that Donald Trump was elected President of the United States, a reality that has put greater urgency behind women’s issues—which are also currently generating heated dialogue in Poland.

During the course of her project some of the girls have become poets, Lockhart said. One has a dream-log, for which she interviews people at the youth center about their dreams. Another has taken on the role of photographer for the group.

Lockhart has also developed an educational program for children with different nonprofits in Rudzienko, and hopes that that the low-cost initiative will grow more permanent roots, rather than ending when the Biennale comes to a close.

The artist has organized lessons about feminism and women’s histories for the girls, including examining the relative lack of female representation at the Venice Biennale. (She notes that only a handful of women have represented America in its history.) And the artist has brought her young associates into contact with strong female role models, like the choreographer of the film and the editor of a women’s magazine.

Installation view of work by Sharon Lockhart at the Polish Pavilion at the 57th Venice Biennale, 2017. Courtesy of the artist and Zachęta – National Gallery of Art, Warsaw.

The girls are also in the process of creating their own publication, to be distributed at the end of the Biennale. Like their predecessors from Little Review, the Rudzienko teens have issued their own newsroom policy: No adults can enter. Except Lockhart herself. And perhaps some animals.

The project is ultimately about collaboration in a larger sense. “When you don’t have a family, it’s kind of like ‘every person for themselves,’” Lockhart said. “The girls learned to trust each other, to believe in each other. That’s a life lesson everyone needs: How do you work together and listen to each other?”

—Tess Thackara

from Artsy News