#Painters Maitland

[australian-painting]

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[random-brushstrokes]

Margaret Maitland Howard (British, 1898-1983) - Portrait of a Woman

[procover-painting]

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[procoverpainting]

Do you want to know how much it cost to paint a house in Newcastle NSW?

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[scotianostra]

20th August 1589 saw James VI marry Anne of Denmark, daughter of King Frederik II of Denmark.

As was usual on those days the marriage was by proxy and her subsequent efforts to sail to Scotland see her blown back by storm to Norway, allegedly as a result of witchcraft.

Suitors from all over Europe sought the hands of the two Danish princesses in marriage, including King James VI. Scottish ambassadors dispatched to the Danish court, had at first centred their attentions on the elder sister, Elizabeth, as a future spouse to their king, but Elizabeth was eventually betrothed to Henry Julius, Duke of Brunswick, the Danes then promised the Scots that their king should have the younger daughter Anne.

On hearing of her troubled journey James ordered "prayers and fasting" and is said to have laid the blame at witchcraft, he decided to leave for Denmark and fetch his wife back to Scotland, arriving on November 19th.

They were formally married the 23rd of November, at the Old Bishop’s Palace in Oslo. “With all the splendour possible at the time and place” probably means that the wedding party was slightly subdued. It is unclear whether it was before or after the wedding ceremony, but as a precaution against future storms James ordered the burning of up to ten witches that he believed had caused the storms that made it impossible for Anne to meet her husband in Norway.

The newlyweds celebrated their wedding in Oslo for a full month, before travelling to Denmark on the 22nd of December with only fifty of James’ men. There they met the young king and his council, celebrated Christmas with the family at Kronborg and in March travelled to Copenhagen to attend the wedding of Anne’s older sister, Elisabeth to Julius of Braunswick-Lüneburg. Two days later they finally made for Leith, Scotland.

Five days after their arrival Anne made her official entry into Edinburgh, riding in a silver coach with her husband on horseback besides her.

On the 17th of May she was crowned queen of Scotland. The ceremony lasted seven hours and during the anointing in holy oil, Anne’s dress was opened so that oil could be poured upon her breast and arm. It was chancellor Maitland who crowned Anne, and her oath included a pledge to defend the true faith against “papistical superstitions and whatsoever ceremonies and rites contrary to the word of God.”

I like this pic of Anne by Flemish painter Paul van Somer one of the leading artists at the court of Jame and Anne, lots more pics and info on her life here https://bjws.blogspot.com/2015/09/biography-anne-of-denmark-1574-1619-ups.html

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 11.10

Beer Birthdays

Martin Luther; religious leader (1483)

William Hogarth; English artist (1647)

Jacob Betz (1843)

Edward Cecil Guinness (1847)

Five Favorite Birthdays

Bill Bryson; writer (1946)

Neil Gaiman; English writer (1960)

Billy May; composer, bandleader (1916)

Roy Scheider; actor (1932)

Carl Stalling; composer (1891)

Famous Birthdays

Francis Maitland Balfour; British biologist (1851)

Paul Bley; Canadian-American pianist and composer (1932)

Richard Burton; Welsh actor (1925)

Jacob Cats; Dutch poet, jurist (1577)

Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy (1433)

Winston Churchill; author and painter (1871)

Francois Couperin; French composer (1668)

Tommy Davidson; comedian (1963)

Zoey Deutch; actress (1994)

Taron Egerton; Welsh actor (1989)

Roland Emmerich; German film director (1955)

Robert F. Engle; economist, Nobel Prize laureate (1942)

Jacob Epstein; American-English sculptor (1880)

Ernst Fischer; German chemist (1918)

Oliver Goldsmith; Irish writer (1728)

W.E.B. Griffin; writer (1929)

Hachikō; Japanese dog (1923)

William Hogarth; English painter, illustrator (1697)

Russell Johnson; actor (1924)

Mikhail Kalashnikov; Russian general, designed AK-47 (1919)

Jared P. Kirtland; naturalist (1793)

Greg Lake; rock guitarist, singer (1947)

Louis le Brocquy; Irish painter and illustrator (1916)

Vachel Lindsay; poet (1879)

Dave Loggins; singer, songwriter (1947)

J.P. Marquand; writer (1893)

Johnny Marks; composer and songwriter (1909)

Mike McCarthy; Green Bay Packers coach (1963)

Tracy Morgan; comedian, actor (1968)

Ennio Morricone; Italian composer (1928)

Brittany Murphy; actor (1977)

Zofia Nałkowska; Polish author and playwright (1884)

Tom Papa; comedian, actor, tv host (1968)

Mackenzie Phillips; actor (1959)

Ellen Pompeo; actress (1969)

Henri Rabaud; French composer (1873)

Claude Rains; actor (1889)

Ann Reinking; dancer, actor (1949)

Tim Rice; lyricist (1944)

Friedrich Schiller; German poet and playwright (1759)

Sinbad; comedian (1956)

David "Screaming Lord" Sutch; English entertainer (1940)

Bram Tchaikovsky; English singer-songwriter (1950)

Steven Utley; author and poet (1948)

Friedrich von Schiller; German writer (1759)

Brooks Williams; singer, songwriter (1958)

Arnold Zweig; German author (1887)

[georginasmith0011]

In the painting industry, safety gear is essential. For painters, work boots are vital to staying safe on the job. In this guide, we will look at the best types of work boots for painters, the key features to consider, and where to find the best work boots in Maitland. By understanding the importance of good work boots, painters can stay safe and improve their performance on the job.

[longlistshort]

“Painter as Saint Luke”, 2023

“Annunciation”, 2023

“Presentation”, 2023

Above are paintings by MJ Torrecampo for the 2023 Florida Prize in Contemporary Art at Orlando Museum of Art.

You can see the art history references throughout MJ Torrecampo’s work in this exhibition. The different perspectives she uses create a unique way to tell stories within each canvas.

The museum’s information on the artist and her work-

Born in the Philippines, MJ Torrecampo immigrated to the United States with her family when she was nine. Eventually the family settled in Orlando, and Torrecampo attended the University of Central Florida with the goal of earning a degree in mechanical engineering. An elective class in art history sparked her interest, and in time she changed her academic direction to earn a BFA in painting in 2014. This was followed by an MFA from the New York Academy of Art in 2020. Having returned to Central Florida, Torrecampo is currently an artist in residence at the Art & History Museums Maitland. Her recent paintings are complex narratives that examine the storyline of her life and of her extended family as immigrants negotiating their past, present, and future while they establish themselves in a new homeland. Although the subjects of her paintings are people, places, and events, it is her exploration of social relationships, psychological insights, and cultural adjustments that provide depth.

The paintings presented here are a new series completed for the Florida Prize exhibition. In these works, Torrecampo investigates her conflicted relationship with religion and spirituality, reimagining familiar biblical stories in the setting and context of the contemporary world. Specifically, she has chosen a series of moments in the life of Mary and the birth of Christ. Without being didactic, paintings like Annunciation ask the viewer to consider the volition and agency of Mary as she undertakes the profound responsibility of giving birth to Christ. In the central panel Mary is preoccupied watering her house plants. Out of the corner of her eye she notices the Angel Gabriel letting himself in, apparently uninvited. The painting’s left panel depicts children squirming in their seats at church during communion. The right panel shows a group of anti-abortion protesters blocking access to a women’s health clinic.

A distinctive feature of Torrecampo’s paintings is her use of overhead perspective which provides a God’s eye view of all that is going on. She adopted this device when she decided to work from her imagination and began to visualize scenes from this viewpoint. With roofs off, we see what is happening in multiple rooms at once, and the architectural geometry of walls in homes and apartments becomes a means to move through each narrative event. People gather here and there, sometimes in separate places and sometimes flowing from one space to the next. It is not always obvious whether the events we are looking at are simultaneous or sequential.

Torrecampo’s unusual perspective and architectural structures reflect her inventive interpretations of devices used by painters of the early Renaissance. References abound in this group of works that explicitly address this artistic period and related Christian theology. A look at Torrecampo’s Annunciation and the same subject by Fra Angelico reveals many wonderful comparisons. The Renaissance master’s painting is set in a loggia, an open walled or “transparent” room through which the viewer sees multiple spaces inside and out. The architecture of the room is defined by a dramatic perspective which encloses the two figures. Mary sits modestly on a stool and seems apprehensive about the approaching angel. Both paintings imply there are truths within the story that go beyond the text.

[detroitlib]

Thomas Maitland Cleland (August 18, 1880 – November 9, 1964) American book designer, painter, illustrator, and type designer.

The new Cadillac in which the modern trend of the motor car is embodied in a rich variety of luxurious distinguished models / Cadillac Motor Car Company ; designed and illustrated by T.M. Cleland ; prepared and printed by Evans-Winter-Hebb Inc. Cover title: Cadillac, 1928

Courtesy of the National Automotive History Collection, Detroit Public Library

[thewondermentofillustration]

George Washington Lambert - Trooper of the Light Horse Sergeant Maitland, 1919; Light Horse veteran, 1925;  Lieut. The Hon. Philip Howard, circa 1915 George Washington Thomas Lambert ARA (1873 – 1930) was an Australian painter, illustrator, and cartoonist. He is remembered as a portrait painting and as a war artist during the First World War. Lambert was born in St Petersburg and raised in Württemberg, Germany and then Somerset, England. At the age of 14 (1887), he migrated to Sydney, Australia with his grandparents. The young Lambert worked as a jackeroo on rural station properties and developed an appreciation for horses and rural scenes. In 1894, he first started exhibiting his paintings and in the next year he started to contributing cartoons to the Bulletin. Between 1896 and 1900, Lambert studied at the Julian Ashton Art School in Sydney. He spent a year in Paris (1901) before moving to London where he exhibited at the Royal Academy. Lambert was appointed an official Australian war artist in 1917 during the First World War. He visited in Gallipoli and Palestine. Lambert then returned to Australia. Much of his work was focused on portraiture and, in in 1927, he won the Archibald.

[tropicalfreckles]

Friends Again CH 5

MASTER LIST found here

SUMMARY: A new dilemma has risen in Lydia that she takes to the only one she can talk to about it.

SOLIDARITY

B**TLEB*BES DNI

(TW mentions of J*no, mentions of murder(no murder tho), mentions of bullying, mentions of the wedding death scene)))

Another day of school, another day of Lydia having complex feelings bubble up in her stomach. This was getting borderline exhausting with all the thoughts she kept bottled up inside. Even though she had become more comfortable with her therapist, she still wasn't sure if she wanted to just spill her guts out about these thoughts. Closing the front door behind her, she swung her backpack off while exhaling a long groan. No one was home yet except for the Maitlands, of course. They were probably upstairs since she didn't see them after scanning the living room. Rummaging through her backpack on the table she pulled out things she needed for homework then sluggishly retreated upstairs. School wasn't engaging and often times left her yearning for more. The Maitlands had recently found a way to help make her learning more simulating through their ghostly powers. They were still learning themselves. They tried learning more from the Handbook for the Recently Deceased. However, as Adam put it, it 'read like radio instructions'. Lydia didn't have too much of a hard time understanding it personally. Though that probably was because she loved deciphering the nonsensical text.

Should she let the Maitlands know she's home?

She usually would announce herself. Yet, that feeling wasn't leaving her stomach. It dampening her mood. Lydia didn't want to bother the ghostly couple with her problem. Since she still didn't understand it entirely herself. It was days like these she wished her mom was still alive. Regret wove itself in her every once in a while for leaving the Netherworld. Missing her chance to reconnect with her mother again. She knew deep down it was for the best. She would've also liked it if Delia and her dad had waited for a while before getting wed. She understood though they felt the fleetingness of life and wanted to make the best of it as long as they both were breathing. That would be another can of worms for Lydia to tackle another day. Lydia tossed her things on her bed when she entered her room. Closing the door behind her then took off her shoes. Her nerves were starting to get the best of her when she walked over to her mirror and gazed at herself.

"Why are feelings stupid..." She muttered. Grabbing a hair tie off of her stand, she ran her fingers through the raven locks tying it up.

"That's because you breathers have too many feelings; It makes shit complicated." A gravely voice chimed in. Lydia flinched for a moment then turned to scowl at the older man.

"I told you that you couldn't come into the house yet!" She snarled at him. Lydia began rubbing the pads of her forefinger and middle in circles against the temple of her head. Beetlejuice snorted then crossed his arms.

"You ain't exactly the boss of me kid. I do what I want. Within reason of your dumb rules. Besides, I was bored waiting in the stupid cemetery. There weren't any breathers to mess with today so I couldn't get anyone else to say my name." Beetlejuice rambled on, giving Lydia a shrug. The young teen threw herself face first on her bed. She thought over for a moment how risky this was.

"You didn't let Barabara and Adam see you, right?" Lydia questioned, sitting up a little on her elbows. Beetlejuice hummed while pulling his eyes out from their sockets.

"Nope, not a peep!" He snickered while tossing them in the air like a pair of die. Lydia looked on unamused before rolling on her back to stare up at the ceiling. The demon popped his eyes back in.

"Oh boy, are you having one of those angsty teen moments again? Am I gonna have to leave while you recite goth poetry or some shit?" He floated up from the ground then whipped over to her. Lydia inhaled deeply before giving a loud groan.

"Go away if you're gonna be an ass." Lydia reached out for a pillow to grab. Beetlejuice tensed up as he knew it was meant for his face. He deflated a little when he saw her hug then bury herself against it. Just as the teen hated when he would get moody, he felt the same about her. Though it was strange, the past three months now that they've been hanging out he has started to feel something he never had before. Was it that gross thing called empathy? He sighed deeply while busying himself with picking at his nails. This was going to require some finesse.

"Alright, you twisted my arm Lyds. What's bugging ya? What can your ol' pal Mr. Betelboose do to, ugh, 'help'?" He peered from the corner of his eye to see if she'd budge. She did not. He did get a grunt in response. Some progress was a win for him. Lydia flailed her legs a little as a muffled groan rose from her. The demon patiently waited for her to speak.

"As bizarre as it is to say.." Lydia dug her fingernails into her pillow as she pulled it away from her face finally. Her features scrunched up, her lips pursed. Relaxing after a moment of what looked like deep contemplation from Beetlejuice's perspective she finally spoke. "I think you might be the only person I can talk to about this." Lydia softly spoke.

Now, this was interesting.

She was actually being vulnerable to him. He only saw her do that once and that was when she summoned him back from the Netherworld. That was because of everything that built up from before. This seemed to be a new dilemma on the young girl's mind. He waved his hand to let her know she could continue.

"Beej. When did you discover that you had feelings for guys, too?" Lydia drawled out while shiftily gazing around the room. Anywhere other than making eye contact. Beetlejuice stroked his scruffy chin while trying to figure out what she meant by that. Was there a boy she liked? Did his stoic bratty friend actually have sappy feelings as well?

Wait.

"You're asking how I knew I was into more than just women? Well, first off, there is one thing ya gotta know about the Netherworld. Most folks swing both if not all ways." Beetlejuice jokingly conjured up a baseball bat and took multiple swings in different directions with it. It earned him a snort which he grinned at before continuing.

"It kind of came as an easy realization for me. I know that the stupid shit you breathers go about here on the mortal plane carries off into the Netherworld sometimes. It doesn't stick for long cause who the hell are you gonna complain to? No one." He rolled his eyes remembering all of the bigoted folks that would come through and get their panties in a twist at how the rest of the Netherworld was. While he wasn't the biggest fan of staying there all the time it wasn't always horrible there. The world of the living was more of a party for him.

"How did you really know, though?" Lydia hugged the pillow closer to her while sitting up. Beetlejuice plopped himself onto the bed next to her. Lydia had a surprisingly smart melon in that goth head of hers. He was curious why she was doubting herself so much.

"Probably when I made out with that one famous painter." He picked at his teeth. Lydia arched a brow.

"Which one?"

"You know me, scarecrow, don't kiss and tell." He grinned at her. Lydia gently smacked his knee.

"Oh BS, you always name drop famous people." She snorted. Beetlejuice snickered, moving his hands behind him then slid back more on the bed.

"You're right, I just don't remember the guy's name right now. Listen. I guess I get it. I've been observing you breathers for almost a millennia. Feelings are gross. But I know when it comes to this stuff it can be hard. Especially for kids. If there's something ya gotta blab to me about." He tilted his head in her direction while making sure he had her attention. She gave a slow nod for him to continue, "Then I'm listening."

Lydia inhaled deeply. This was nerve-racking. She just didn't know how to even express herself.

"I... I might have." Lydia banged her head into the soft pillow and gave a small whine. "I might.. like a girl at school." She spoke barely above a whisper. Beetlejuice leaned over since he could barely hear her. Lydia wrinkled her nose at the smell yet allowed him to do so.

"What was that kid? Gotta speak up." He gave a coy smile. Lydia scowled at him then looked away.

"I said... That I might like a girl at school. I'm not repeating myself again." Her cheeks were heating up at how embarrassing this was. Not so much expressing her feelings. It was more talking about a damn school crush to her stupid demon friend she was starting to make amends with. She looked over to him after a moment of making sure he wasn't going to tease her then noticed him grinning wide.

"Yeah, that's what I thought you said. HA. Of course, you're into girls! Look at you, you're tiny, snarky all the time and goth." Beetlejuice yammered on as he elbowed her side.

"Ha-ha, is this amusing to you or something? I just spilled my damn guts out." Lydia frowned, her cheeks flushed. Beetlejuice shook his head.

"Eh, maybe a little, I just find it funny that widdle Lydia has a crush. Always figured you were too feral and hated people too much for that." He pinched her cheek. She was close to snapping her teeth at his fingers. She opted for batting his hand away. Lydia wiped her cheek with her sleeve. He snickered in response then rested his elbows on his knees.

"Call me 'widdle' again and I'll throw you off the roof as I did before." She stuck her tongue out at him then took note of him smirking at her. "What?"

"Nuthin'. Just weird seeing you actually act like a teenager instead of your usual dry, deadpan self." He patted her hard on the back to which she grunted at him. "Good for you! Better to be your real self than locking that shit away. Dolores and Chuck'll probably be. I don't know, what's that word you breathers use now? 'Woke'? About this. I know the Maitlands will be. Ugh, they are just soooo supportive it's disgusting." He gagged at his last sentence to which Lydia rolled her eyes.

"I don't know if I'm going to tell anyone. At least not yet." Lydia softly spoke as she played with the pillow resting in her lap. Beej quirked a brow at her then snorted. He gave a soft bap on her head with his fist.

"Listen. I don't normally give pep talks that aren't about scaring, murder or crap. I guess I can try to understand. Daphne might be too intrusive about it. Chuck might just be super awkward about it and say something embarrassing. The other nerds are definitely gonna dote on you." Beetlejuice picked at his teeth. "Eh, take your time if you wanna. Just know that the Netherworld when ya shed your meat-sack body is gonna be fine with who or what yer into. Fuck what anyone else thinks." He let out a long yawn then stretched a little. "Trying to be nice makes me wanna take a nap or doing something nasty. Or hurl. Can't decide, this is gross."

Lydia looked over the demon while taking note of his words. She snickered at him dramatically pretending to upheave then shoved him.

"Stop being gross for five minutes." Lydia snorted then sat back on her bed finally letting go of her pillow. "Honestly.. My stomach is in a knot still. Part of me kind of wants to tell her however I don't want people to.." Midway through Lydia trailed off into a soft whisper. "I just don't want more of a reason for people to target me at school. I can handle myself for the most part. Just kind of hard when they gang up on me." She tugged at the edge of her school uniform. Without skipping a beat Beetlejuice responded.

"Want me to kill 'em for ya? I mean, if they're that big of lil assholes I'd probably be doing their parents a favor." Beetlejuice grinned while taking out a knife from his sleeve. "I'll 'cut' them down to size!" He cackled while swishing the knife around. Lydia ducked down then snorted.

"No. Murder isn't the answer to everything, BJ. Those girls are jerks but they aren't the root of the problem. Kids don't naturally act like bigoted brats. It's probably coming from their parents or something, to begin with." Lydia grabbed his arm to make him stop swinging the knife. Beetlejuice clicked his tongue then thought over what she said.

"Alright. Kill the parents and the brats. Two for two-plus no sad little orphans!" Beetlejuice hovered off the bed in glee while throwing his arms up into the air. "It'll be a real scream Lyds! Just let me loose on 'em! Come on! I haven't killed anyone since Juno!" He flexed his fingers while looking to her like an overjoyed child in a candy store. Lydia raised her hand up with a shake of her head.

"Didn't I just say murder wasn't the answer to everything?" She answered dryly while quirking a brow at him.

"I don't know, you murdered me pretty fast to try and kick my ass into the Netherworld," Beetlejuice muttered. Lydia inhaled deeply through her nostrils then slapped his thigh with her pillow.

"I'm serious. No murdering people on my behalf. I appreciate the enthusiasm but I don't want the cops on me. Making people suffer is more fun anyway." Lydia dropped the pillow then stretched her legs out. Beetlejuice floated back down to the bed then gave a little pout.

"Bah. Thought you were more fun than that, kid. Though torture also sounds like a blast." He stroked his scruffy chin. The goth teen kicked her feet against the edge of the bed.

"I was thinking more about pranking." She chuckled. "You know.. I might try talking to that girl. Just not yet." Lydia lulled her head against her shoulder to peer back at the demon. "I hate to stroke that big ego of yours. I wanna tell you that I kind of appreciate you talking to me about this. It's nice to talk to someone else who is attracted to the same gender." She took out her phone then opened the browser.

"Plus I see myself as more than one gender. Though that's a topic for another time, kid." He waved his hand as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Lydia swung her head up to stare at him.

"Oh; does that mean you're genderfluid?"

"Gender what now?" Beetlejuice quizzically stared at her while scratching the top of his scalp. Lydia quickly brought something up on her phone then showed him.

"You identify as more than one gender. See?" Lydia began scrolling through a website about the LGBTQ+ community while Beetlejuice crossed his arms and tried reading over it.

"Huh. Well shit. Guess so? Then what's being attracted to more than one gender?" He quickly snatched the phone out of her hand to look over it more.

"Well, that is a broader category. You could be either Bisexual or Pansexual." She sat up on her knees as she pressed the pad of her forefinger into the screen. Slowly she scrolled back up on the browser and pointed out the two. Beetlejuice hummed then plopped the phone back into her lap.

"Learn something new every day!" Beetlejuice grinned. The two froze when they heard the familiar voice of a woman echoing through the house.

"Lydia?? Are you home? We can get started on your homework if you want!" Barbara's hand began phasing through the door. With that Beetlejuice flung himself out the window as Lydia swatted grave dirt he left behind on her bed.

"Coming Barbara!" Lydia called.

She couldn't keep hiding him forever.

[sassmasterintraining]

The episode begins with a brief introduction to Adam and Barbara Maitland, a sweet suburban couple that had their whole lives ahead of them before an unfortunate accident involving a bridge, a dog, and a river. Bad luck for them.

Now as Recently Deceased ghosts, The Maitlands are tasked to haunt and scare the living. Only problem? Adam and Barbara are as scary as a couple of snuggly plush toys, and have failed each any every haunting assigned to them.

Juno, their caseworker, is at her wits end and absolutely drowning in paperwork at this point.

And not only that, an old troublemaker is back in the Netherworld on parole after serving out his sentence on Saturn: Beetlejuice, the self-proclaimed Bioexorcist and "Ghost with the Most", who quickly lands himself in trouble once again.

Seeing an opportunity to take care of two problems at once, Juno assigns Beej to be the Maitlands' official Haunting Instructor as a means to keep him in line, and give the Maitlands one last chance to complete a successful haunting.

If they fail, Beetlejuice will spend the rest of his afterlife on Saturn, and the Maitlands will be demoted and assigned as "Desk Workers" (doesn't sound bad on paper, until the scene cuts to the office workers as mindless, miserable husks that are constantly drowning in paperwork, "teambuilding meetings", and cold decaf coffee)

Before sending them off, Juno leaves the Maitlands with 2 warnings: to be wary of Beetlejuice and his trickery, and to never ever let a Breather learn his name.

Beetlejuice and the Maitlands move into The Roadhouse, where they start their first "How to Scare the Pants off A Bunch of Suckers 101" course. After a disastrous first lesson, Beej is about ready to give up on the two deadbeats until he learns who the their next assignment is: The Deetz Family.

Charles Deetz and his family have recently moved from New York to the small down of Winter River.

Charles is a workaholic with a successful real estate business, his (second) wife Delia is a socialite/life coach/business consultant/sculptor/painter/Amateur Vlogger, etc etc (and she's got especially large business cards to prove it)

And last is 12 year old Lydia Deetz, a quiet but clever goth girl and budding filmmaker with a curious fascination for anything strange and unusual.

Beetlejuice sees this as the perfect opportunity: even the two lamest of lame ghosts to ever exist can scare a child!

The three if them wait until Lydia is home alone, and they set their plan in motion to successfully scare Lydia using their training from Beetlejuice.

Feeling bad about trying to scare this little girl, Adam and Barbara accidentally botch their plan and reveal themselves to Lydia. As they escape back to the Nerherworld, Lydia discovers a strange book that they leave behind...

When the two of them come back later, Lydia is waiting for them. She returns their book, and the three of them quickly strike up a familial bond.

Learning that they not only failed their haunting, but they also befriended a Breather, Beej formulates a plan to keep himself from getting hauled back to Saturn. Since he can't affect the Living World due to his "curse", he possesses Adam and Barbara into acting out some classic horror movie moments (head turns, glowing eyes, the Exorcist crab walk).

His plan almost succeeds, until Lydia discovers him and gets him to stop. He quickly realizes that she can actually *see* him, which should be impossible because of his curse. Despite previous claims that he hates kids, he warms up to her when she points out his reference to the Exorcist (which turns out is also her favorite movie).

The four of them strike a deal to get what they want:

Lydia gets to keep her new ghost friends

The Maitlands stay in the living world with Lydia

Beetlejuice doesn't become Sandworm food.

With help from Lydia, the Maitlands perform a successful haunting during one of Delia's social gatherings, sending everyone running and screaming out of the house! (sidenote: there's a running gag throughout the series where Charles and Delia somehow always just miss the supernatural antics going on around the house)

Beej reports back to Juno that the haunting was a total success, and he continues to feed Juno fake reports about the Maitland's haunting!

As he heads back to the Roadhouse, Beej reveals (through a 4th wall break) a little got a side scheme he's working on: getting Lydia is say his name 3 times, so he can get Out

Beej turns to the camera and says "It's Showtime", and cue maniacal laughter as the credits roll

[procoverpainting]

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[missrose-writes-stuff]

Soulmate AU 2- Beetlejuice/Reader

Warnings: None Reader is implied female [Part One Here] [Part Three Here]

The three of you are staring at each other and you find the courage to speak. 

"Who are you two and do I need to call the cops for trespassing?" You close the door behind you. 

"We'll we're um.." the man started to speak. 

"We're the Maitlands, I'm Barbra and this is my husband Adam" The woman spoke up gesturing to herself and her husband. 

"Well, I'm (Y/N)...now why are you two up here?" You asked them.

"Well, were dead." Adam replied nonchalantly

"....So your ghosts?" You hesitated to ask. 

Barbra nodded, "Yes, this used to be our house too. Now we just haunt this place"

Now it all made sense to you why Lydia had asked why you believed in ghosts and you first came over. 

"Well it's nice to finally meet you two" You smiled at them, "but uh..who was the third voice I heard?"

"Don't worry about him, just a pest" Adam replied

You nodded, thinking you shouldn't poke any further at least not right now. You'll just ask Lydia when she feels better.

Your eyes move from the couple immediately to the model of the town in the center.

"Whoa, this is cool!" You walk closer to inspect it

"Thanks! I've been working on it since before I passed away" the male ghost walked to your side

Your eyes scanned the small town and spotted the building that would be your flower shop, it's still grey.

 "Oh hey that's my flower shop!" You said pointing to it. 

"Yeah, Lydia told us you bought it not to long ago but haven't decided on the color yet" Barbra replied

You smiled, "Looking at this actually makes me think I should paint it like a baby blue" 

"Oh! I think I have that color" Adam replied and moved to drawer full of art supplies bringing out the color. He grabbed the small building and began to paint it. Once he was done and set it back in its place you inspected it. 

"Oh! That's so pretty" you replied enthusiastically "I'll have to call up the painter tomorrow" 

Adam and Barbara smiled at your enthusiasm it felt nice to them to finally have more people to talk to, it still made them feel like they were alive. 

You looked around the room taking more of it in and your eyes landed on a stuffed animal sitting in the corner of a shelf. Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion and you walked towards this. As you get closer you realize it's your stuffed animal that you lost as a kid.

"Hey..um..where did this come from?" You asked the couple pointing to the bear. 

"Oh, that bear?" Adam replied and you nodded 

"He brought it over not that long ago saying that's one thing he didn't want to lose. Said he got it about 15 years ago? Said he almost lost it.” Adam said.

"Yeah, he was also saying something about it being his soulmates bear" Barbra added 

"I'm surprised he even has one really" Adam shook his head, "I feel sorry for whoever that is."

You felt nauseous, whoever they were talking about and clearly didn't like was your soulmate. You also felt embarrassed thinking about all the articles of clothing that you lost in your life. 

"Fuck.." you said softly running your hands down your face embarrassed.

"Hey, are you okay?" Barbra stood next you rubbing your back. 

"Oh no, don't tell me that's yours" Adam spoke up.

You nodded, "I lost this bear about 15 years ago…" 

Barbara and Adam looked each other concerned while you ran your fingers through your hair trying to calm down. As far as you can tell your soulmate is a spirit and an asshole one at that apparently. "Is that even allowed?" You thought to yourself. You also felt extremely anxious because your soulmate was literally nearby but you haven't met him yet. 

"I think I'm going to go lay down…" you mumbled to the couple walking out of the attic Barbara and Adam watching you anxiously. You walk into the guest bedroom and lay down on the bed. This was quite frankly all too much for you. How would you even explain your soulmate to your parents? "Hey mom and dad! This is my soulmate and he's dead," would that even work? You sigh and grab a pillow and squish your face into it, letting out a small scream of frustration. After a while you calm down and fall asleep, but not without the feeling of someone watching you.

As soon as Lydia got better you took her out to the shopping, she wanted to go to the photography store getting new film. You had already talked to her about the fact that you met the Maitlands and you really loved them. They sorta became like a second pair of parents yo you. You’ve even helped Adam with his model of the town, arranging the fake plants on the model. In the few days you still havent met your soulmate but you’ve heard his voice here and there. “Hey Lydia..can I ask you about the third voice I hear around the house?” You ask “What about him?” She asked “I uh…” You hesitated, “I found out..that I am...his soulmate” 

Lydia's eyes widened, “Wait? How did you find out” 

“When I met Adam and Barbara, up in the attic…” You started, “The bear sitting on the shelf...it’s mine. I lost it as a kid” 

Lydia’s face of shock soon turned into a face full of glee, “Well now you got to meet him!” She said grabbing your hand, “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me!” she ranted to you. 

She proceeded to yank you towards the exit of the building back to your car, “Now we gotta get something from your house that's his! What has he lost?”

You try to keep up with the gothic teen practically tripping over your own feet. 

“I uh, I have a tie actually. Looks really old and really worn out.” You replied, “Also has the initials ‘BJ’ embroidered on it and surprisingly a lot of cigarettes.”

“Good! Now we have to go get it and go back to my place” Lydia was practically bursting with enthusiasm. More than you’ve ever seen her do before. 

Soon you made it to your house and you quickly grabbed the box filled with the tie and cigarettes and made it back to Lydia’s house. She told you to stay put in the kitchen as she went upstairs to the attic. You sat down on a random stool in the kitchen to wait. A few minutes passed and it felt like an eternity to you, you were beginning to get nervous as the time ticked away. 

“C’mon Beej, don't be nervous!” You heard Lydia’s voice coming closer to the kitchen, “She’s your soulmate! She’ll love you”

“This isn’t some prank isn’t it?” He asked, “Not revenge for the last time, right?”

The voices got closer to the kitchen and you swear you were about to pass out. 

“(Y/N)?” Lydia’s voice calls out to you, “This is Beej! Your soulmate”

You look up from your lap and make eye contact with a man a bit taller than you, wearing black and white striped suit. His stubble and messy green hair and dark sunken eyes.  “What if I pass out right now?” You thought to yourself and next thing you know you’re tumbling down while Lydia screamed out your name and you see your soulmate reaching out for you.

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 11.10

Beer Birthdays

Martin Luther; religious leader (1483)

William Hogarth; English artist (1647)

Jacob Betz (1843)

Edward Cecil Guinness (1847)

Five Favorite Birthdays

Bill Bryson; writer (1946)

Neil Gaiman; English writer (1960)

Billy May; composer, bandleader (1916)

Roy Scheider; actor (1932)

Carl Stalling; composer (1891)

Famous Birthdays

Francis Maitland Balfour; British biologist (1851)

Paul Bley; Canadian-American pianist and composer (1932)

Richard Burton; Welsh actor (1925)

Jacob Cats; Dutch poet, jurist (1577)

Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy (1433)

Winston Churchill; author and painter (1871)

Francois Couperin; French composer (1668)

Tommy Davidson; comedian (1963)

Zoey Deutch; actress (1994)

Taron Egerton; Welsh actor (1989)

Roland Emmerich; German film director (1955)

Robert F. Engle; economist, Nobel Prize laureate (1942)

Jacob Epstein; American-English sculptor (1880)

Ernst Fischer; German chemist (1918)

Oliver Goldsmith; Irish writer (1728)

W.E.B. Griffin; writer (1929)

Hachikō; Japanese dog (1923)

William Hogarth; English painter, illustrator (1697)

Russell Johnson; actor (1924)

Mikhail Kalashnikov; Russian general, designed AK-47 (1919)

Jared P. Kirtland; naturalist (1793)

Greg Lake; rock guitarist, singer (1947)

Louis le Brocquy; Irish painter and illustrator (1916)

Vachel Lindsay; poet (1879)

Dave Loggins; singer, songwriter (1947)

J.P. Marquand; writer (1893)

Johnny Marks; composer and songwriter (1909)

Mike McCarthy; Green Bay Packers coach (1963)

Tracy Morgan; comedian, actor (1968)

Ennio Morricone; Italian composer (1928)

Brittany Murphy; actor (1977)

Zofia Nałkowska; Polish author and playwright (1884)

Tom Papa; comedian, actor, tv host (1968)

Mackenzie Phillips; actor (1959)

Ellen Pompeo; actress (1969)

Henri Rabaud; French composer (1873)

Claude Rains; actor (1889)

Ann Reinking; dancer, actor (1949)

Tim Rice; lyricist (1944)

Friedrich Schiller; German poet and playwright (1759)

Sinbad; comedian (1956)

David "Screaming Lord" Sutch; English entertainer (1940)

Bram Tchaikovsky; English singer-songwriter (1950)

Steven Utley; author and poet (1948)

Friedrich von Schiller; German writer (1759)

Brooks Williams; singer, songwriter (1958)

Arnold Zweig; German author (1887)

[patricianandclerk]

hello!!can we get more “aziraphale being miles maitland’s protective gay mentor” stuff please?

Miles had his hand over his eyes as he rushed in, as if shielding them from a bright light, but Aziraphale had seen this before, and was on his feet before Miles could make his way entirely across the room. He ran right to Aziraphale’s chest, whereupon he pressed his face into the warm heat there, sobbing into the soft wool of his jumper.

“Shh, shh,” Aziraphale whispered, locking the shop’s front door with but a thought - there were no customers inside, thank goodness - and he gently took Miles by the forearm, leading him into the backroom.

“--and,” Miles went on as Aziraphale finished making the cocoa, the whole time plastered close to Aziraphale’s side, “he just-- he said, well, that’s it, then, it’s over, and in any case, I don’t think you have ever been interesting, Miles, only pretty.”

Aziraphale tutted. “That’s not true at all, my dear, and you know it.”

Miles sobbed in earnest, and when Aziraphale sat down on the overstuffed sofa, Miles fell upon him, half in his lap, mostly pressing once more against Aziraphale’s chest to find his comfort there. Setting the mugs on the table beside them, Aziraphale let out low, soothing noises, rubbing Miles’ back.

This had hardly been the first dramatic break-up. Aziraphale had no doubt it would not be the last.

He pressed a kiss to the side of Miles’ brow, feeling the young man shake.

“Where’s Agatha?” Aziraphale asked. “You can’t stay with her for a few days?”

“Oh, she’s ill,” Miles said miserably. “She’s got this horrible thing that will take a few weeks to disperse - I’m not to visit her whilst she’s contagious, but of course I sent flowers, and chocolates, and some books. I am sorry to bother you, Ezra, really--”

“Don’t be sorry, dear boy,” Aziraphale said, shaking his head, and he gave Miles a gentle squeeze. “I’ll put up the guest bedroom for you, if you like, or you can sleep down here on the sofa, while I work. And then we’ll see about finding you a more appropriate beau, hm?”

“Oh, but, Ezra, Eddie is a painter--”

“Dearest child, Eddie was a cad, and now behind you.”

Miles sniffles, more of a laugh this time than a sob, and Aziraphale keeps on stroking his back in easy, rhythmic circles until he slows, his head relaxing on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and he sleeps.

Reaching with his other hand, Aziraphale dials the telephone, and draws it to his ear.

“Crowley?”

“Aziraphale?”

“I don’t suppose you might assemble some dreadful young men, that we might organise them out somewhere, perhaps to Brighton?”

“Maitland with you?”

“Asleep on my shoulder. Bad break-up, dear boy.”

“Ah. Yeah, angel. I can swing that. Want me to come by?”

“Would you mind awfully?”

“Not at all. Gimme a few minutes to finish up here, and I’ll bring wine. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye bye.”

Miles stirred, wrapping his arms more tightly about Aziraphale’s torso. “Wish I could have what you two have,” he mumbled, eyes still closed. “No one’s ever loved me like he loves you.”

“Don’t be silly, dear,” Aziraphale said, his voice soft as he played with Miles’ hair. “Anthony and I love you most dearly, and Agatha adores you. As do your friends - that Adam, young Nina...”

Miles sighed. “But a husband, Ezra. I should wish to be married by now.”

Aziraphale said nothing. He merely reached for his cocoa, sipping at it as Miles’ breathing evened out, his head going limp against Aziraphale’s chest, his hands slackening their hold. “Sweet dreams,” he murmured against Miles’ hair, and allowed the barest fragment of a miracle to make it so.

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