#Post Frame Utah

[wightbuildings]

Post Frame Utah | Wright Buildings

Wright Buildings is a Utah-based company famous for its work in steel buildings, metal buildings, pole barns, and other structures. We guarantee the best price and quality for your future multi-purpose, post-frame building in Utah. Our team has the best experience designing and constructing all types of buildings, including manufacturing facilities. For more information, call us at (801) 900-1290.

[crimeboys]

utah to cwilbur is like new mexico to bojack

[sunnys-out]

Welcome Home | Katrina Gorry

A/N: Hello, I'm alive. Sorry, I have been busy again with LSAT prep, work, and all that good stuff. Hope y'all enjoy it as much as I had writing it.

(20. And I… I still love you, even after all of this time) from here

Warnings: familial death, panic attack symptoms, mentions of homophobia from family

WC: 2551

November 2023 Sweden

The cold air nipped at my nose as I stood still in front of the gate leading to the home. 

My feet shifted in the snow with a crunch. My hands shook, from nerves, as I move to cover my chest more to protect her from the cold. The home in front of me was familiar yet so new to me. 

I look down at the door to the once loose gate.

“Huh…she did end up remembering how to fix the gate” I thought.

______________________________________________________________

February 2018, Utah

The bags of groceries hit the counter top with a thud as I yelled toward Katrina, who remained struggling to lock the front door.

“You know this wasn’t what I had planned for us for Valentine’s Day you know…but hey we can celebrate you finally joining me here!” 

The smile on my face remained as I started unpacking the groceries.

Katrina moved through the maze of boxes that littered her apartment before stopping to look into one.

“Yeah unpacking as much as possible and then dinner…has the announcement already been posted?” she started removing framed photos from the box.

I nod and follow with, “Yup, they shot down my suggestion for the caption…“Katrina ‘Mini’ Gorry to join Utah Royals FC to join her amazingly charming and beautiful partner, y/n l/n” 

My hand gestures exaggerating the sentence to get a laugh from Katrina as I carried on.

“Plus, this absolutely beats just a Facetime call date so I don’t mind doing this with you, cariño (dear)” 

Katrina puts down the photo frame of us together when we won the NWSL championship with FC Kansas City and heads to the kitchen and leans on the counter.

“I meant to ask, how’s your sister doing? She doin’ alright?” the question gently leaving her mouth as if preparing for any sort of bad news.

I snort, “Mariana is doing great, surprisingly. She’s back in Mexico and just taking some time off. She met someone and it seems like it’s going well. She said ‘hi’ by the way”. 

My little sister, Mariana, played for the Houston Dash until she had sustained an injury that completely took her out of the sport the last year. Her body was not responding to the treatments or physical therapy and, ultimately, she decided to retire. Mariana elected to go live in Mexico and stay with our grand parents now that she “had all the time in the world for the first time in her life”. 

Katrina looks at me confused but shakes it away, “Your sister is really something, toughest girl I’ve ever met”.

I laugh, “Yeah and me the complete opposite, which is why you are the bug killer in this relationship”. I say talking out the vegetables from the bag and placing it amongst the rest. 

With a shrug Katrina said, “Well, you pay me back in fixing things around the places I’ve lived in…by the way can you do me a favor? I, may have made the latch loose on backyard gate…again…can you tell me how to fix it…again?”

My eyes meet hers as I feign frustration…”Cariño, you’re going to have to remember because what if it breaks…again and Im not around. I don’t want creeps coming into your backyard because you can’t fix it…just this once I’ll do it for you ok”. 

I sigh and leave the groceries on the dinner table and head out the back but not before I lean down and give her a quick kiss on the lips…”God, what would you do without me?” I joke.

______________________________________________________________________

The gate quietly locks behind me with a click. I feel a stir under the rebozo (thick shawl) on my chest, I gently caress the top of her head through the shawl and the movement stops. I lift the top of the rebozo and see that she did remain asleep. 

I smile softly down and whisper. “She’ll be so excited to meet you”.

 I look back at the house and see the lights on within giving off a warm glow. I begin walking and look over at the, now, empty, painted pots that line the wall underneath the window. 

I frown a bit, “damn, guess the roses didn’t make it did they?” I thought. 

As I continued closer to the door I notice several more “artistic” looking pots with doodles and little H’s adorning each and every one of them. 

A smile returned to my face as the memory came back to me.

______________________________________________________________

February 2020, Norway

The sun peaked through the clouds as Katrina and I sat looking outside the window of her home in Norway. A small heater directed at me as I meticulously continued to paint a medium sized pot. 

I hadn’t noticed that Katrina had stopped painting her own and just watched me as I seemed lost in what I was doing. My tongue sticking out of the side of my mouth as my attention was fully on the project in front of me.

“You not worried about getting paint on your ring, darling?” she said gesturing her paintbrush towards my left hand.

I finish up one little detail on the sun that I had just painted before I looked over to the ring in question.

“Oh shit…totally forgot to take it off.” my hands wiping off any paint before delicately taking off the ring from my finger and handing it to Katrina.

“Hold it for me?” I quietly ask before she silently takes the ring and places in her front pocket joining hers. 

Katrina caught my attention before I could find myself back to painting the pot in front of me.

“How’s Mariana doing?” the tone still careful.

I nod, “Uh she is pregnant actually, set to get married soon. She said that she wasn’t going to have a big thing and just get married at the courthouse…she’s still sad she couldn't make it out to our wedding last Fall ”

Katrina’s eyes widen at the mention of pregnancy, “Oh she’s pregnant? Congratulations to her then…can I ask?”. I notice that she starts to fiddle with her paintbrush as I continued painting with mine.

“What’s on your mind cariño?” my attention fully on her as she sighs softly.

She puts down her brush and takes one of my hands in hers. 

“Remember when talked about kids?...I know that you didn’t want to carry because of fear and I said I would be happy to just only when I feel ready to…(y/n), I’ve been thinking and I think I’m ready to do it, there’s a lot of support with IVF here in Norway and I’ve done the research because I know that you worry and-” she stops once I squeeze her hand. She hadn’t noticed that my eyes were already filled with tears. 

“Cariño, there is absolutely nothing I would want more. I will try to be there for you as much as I can even if it means taking time off with Chelsea” I say now holding her hands tightly in mine.

Katrina, immediately, shakes her head, “hey you have been dreaming of playing for Chelsea since you were young…I can’t ask for you to leave in your first season with them”. 

I laugh a little as I clean my eyes and nose with a leftover napkin “fine you win…well I should buy more pots when our kid is around I want to make sure they have one too.”

We had started our lives together and we were making the step to make it bigger. I had intended, no matter how much money it was going to cost me, to fly to Norway on my free weekends to see Katrina through her pregnancy. 

However, COVID completely shut me off and away from Katrina. Through facetimes filled with my constant worrying of her getting sick while she was pregnant were frequent but not enough to sustain me. 

I had only seen her once or twice after following the strict travel restrictions and I was nothing but elated. 

Katrina had asked how my sister was doing. I had shared with her that Mariana delivered a healthy baby girl, Corey. However, the news did not carry the same lightness as before, the father of the child had left Mariana before Corey was born.

Disregarding Katrina’s protests, I took a bit of time off with Chelsea to just be with her when she finally gave birth to our little Harper. Mariana, joined me in crying over our little addition to the family telling Katrina that “Corey, can’t wait to meet her”. 

Katrina would go to the Brisbane Roar for a time, while I remained in England. Katrina and I were experts in the aspects of a long distance relationship, that didn’t stop my heart from aching from not seeing Harper.  Mariana would fill in those gaps as she would send video after video of her and Corey. Katrina would also fill my phone with pictures of our little Harper…

I wish I could just live in that moment again when my only worry was when would be the time I would see either of them.

______________________________________________________________

As I moved quietly to the front door, I stopped myself from knocking. I couldn’t just yet…I missed Katrina and I knew she missed me but it had been so long since I had seen her. I plopped down on the steps away from the door. 

I pulled Corey closer to me, and she, in turn, buried herself even more into my chest…I just needed a moment to myself. I was early so Katrina wouldn’t be expecting me and plus I was hidden away from the windows; away from any curious eyes.

My breath came out white as I sighed looking towards the gate in front of me. The last time I was here I was leaving…leaving for Mexico as soon as I heard the news. Chelsea received a rushed email stating that I would be unavailable until further notice and Katrina saw me frantically packing.

I, absentmindly, started to play with my ring finger always forgetting that there was no ring there to play with. Katrina should have been madder at me then.

______________________________________________________________

February 2022, Sweden

The soft glow of my phone filled the room before the default ringtone woke me up. I carefully reached over trying not to move Katrina as much as she was asleep against my chest. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes I look and see my grandmother was on the other line. 

My grandmother never called without notice opting to only call when she knew that I would be awake. I answer and interrupt her before she starts asking her to just give me a minute in as soft of whisper I could muster.

I quietly leave Katrina’s side, walk by Harper’s bed by our and into the corridor. A yawn escapes me as I finally prompt my abuela to continue with what she was calling about.

“Ah mi niña, tu hermana esta muy mala, le encontramos en el piso desmayada y quieria avisar le,creo que tu necesitas a venir a vistar la…no sabemos cuanto le falta” (Ah, my daughter, your sister is not doing well, we found her passed out and we wanted to let you know, I think that you need to come and visit her, we don’t know how much time she has left). 

I do not remember what I responded but it must have been something akin to “I’m headed there now” as I immediately went to my laptop and bought the first ticket there. I moved through our home with complete disregard of the noise I was making at 3:30 am nor I didn’t know I was crying until I felt Katrina’s arms around me, calmly, saying my name to bring me out of my panicked state. 

The clothes still bunched up in my hands as I broke down. “It’s Mariana” was all I could hiccup. Katrina rubbing my back as she led me out of the room to not wake Harper. 

“How is Mariana?” she whispered the careful tone still there. 

I shook my head as I continued, “she’s dying, I have to go to see her…I can’t be here…I-” I start breathing slowly to calm my self as Katrina held me, I hadn’t even noticed that we were sat on the ground, her hand running up and down my back.

She smiles and nods as she herself tries to keep the tears from falling, “You go, I will be ok with Harper here, I know how much Mariana means to you…she means a lot to me too. Go take care of her…just know that I will be here for you and I… I still love you, even after all of this time…all the times we have been apart…I love you. Mariana is lucky to have you as an older sister as I am to have you as my wife”

______________________________________________________________

November 2023, Sweden

I was gone more than a year, Mariana had passed a month after I had arrived in our parent’s small home town. My parents, estranged, would not be there. Definitely not for the daughter they thought would defend their homophobia when I came out to them but defended me fiercely to her last breath.

I handled everything from the funeral, looking after my grandparents and the caring of little Corey. I watched the world cup from the bar counter of little restaurant on the corner. Bouncing Corey on me knee as I watched my wife make history. 

Katrina kept my ring safe with her, I do not trust my aunts at all especially after the fall out I had with my mother. The final check off of my list was preparing for the adoption of Corey. Once she was, in all eyes of the law, my own daughter we said our goodbyes and headed back to Sweden...back to Katrina and Harper…back home.

I sighed as I rubbed my eyes when the cold breeze hit me. The door behind me opened and enveloped me in a warm glow. It took me a few moments to register Katrina’s arms around my neck as she nuzzled her way into hair whispering, “Welcome home”.

I leaned back into her still holding Corey ahead of me as I then heard the pitter patter of little feet and a little “Mama” was heard as another weight was added on my back.

I laughed for the first time in a while, “Hey you two, careful don’t want to crush Harper’s new big sister” I say getting up. 

The sleeping bundle now with open eyes was let loose and with renewed energy hugged Harper and ran into the home pulling her in to play leaving me with Katrina. 

She grabbed me and kissed me like it was the first time and grabbed my hand as we separated. 

“I think this belongs to you, darling” She said slipping the wedding ring onto my finger as I clasped her hand once she did. 

I bring her in close, “of course it does…I love you, cariño” her lips capturing mine. 

Now two little voices came from within the home, “Mama!”. We enter hand in hand with our new favorite little distractions.

[frida-kahl-of-the-rocky-horror]

I saw this back when I used to use Reddit (for animal crossing and trans+ stuff mostly), and I felt so honoured that they used my Florida flag redesign in this that I screenshotted it. But when I looked to find the original poster, they had deleted the post (likely because of negative replies, vexillology Reddit is scary).

They recreated the state flags to be more about symbolism and individuality rather than about aesthetics (which is the problem I see with a lot of over simplified state flags). All while keeping the flags that actually carry deep meaning and are beloved by the residents.

I’m not the biggest fan of Nebraska’s, Virginia’s, and Wisconsin’s, but all the others are wonderful (especially Florida’s… I will not apologize for being biased lol)

The original Reddit person’s caption:

“I kept some flags which I believe are currently great. Most of them are all over State merchandise, and people of these states carry a lot of state pride for these flags. They are:

1. Alabama

2. Alaska

3. Arizona

4. Arkansas

5. California

6. Colorado

7. lowa

8. Maryland

9. Mississippi

10. Missouri

11. New Mexico

12. Ohio, my home state! [not mine, OPs]

13. Rhode Island

14. South Carolina

15. Tennessee

16. Texas

17. Utah

18. Wyoming

19. District of Columbia [I believe you mean the Douglass Commonwealth]

20. Guam

21. The Northern Mariana Islands

22. Puerto Rico

I've switched some State’s boring Seal on a Bedsheet flags into their more popular historical ones. They are:

23. Conecticut ~ New England Flag

24. Hawaii ~ Kanaka Maoli

25. Maine ~ Original State Flag

26. Vermont ~ Green Mountain Boys Flag

27. Virginia ~ Gadsden Flag

28. West Virginia ~ Original State Flag

I've made a few tweaks to some existing flags so they look more unique / are more easily recognizable. They are:

29. Indiana ~ Golden Frame

30. New Jersey ~ Added Stripes

31. North Carolina ~ Un-Tex-ified

32. Oklahoma ~ Added Stripes

33. American Samoa ~ Added Southern Cross

I designed some using the Pan Cascade colours for the Pacific Northwest (BC will have the tree one). They are:

34. Idaho

35. Oregon

36. Washington

I borrowed some other designs which I found on here which I found beautiful. I mostly looked for flags which were designed by locals from the states that they are redesigning or included state symbols on their old flags. They are:

37. Florida [omg they chose mine!!!]

38. Georgia

39. Kansas

40. Kentucky

41. Louisiana

42. Michigan

43. Montana

44. Nevada

45. New Hampshire

46. New York

47. North Dakota [I prefer my communist flag better wajajaja]

48. Pennsylvania

49. South Dakota

50. Wisconsin

51. Virgin Islands

I left the flags currently in the process of a redesign blank, for, given the recent track record, any new flags are probably going to look amazing like Utah’s and Mississippi’s. They are:

52. Illinois [this is your reminder to vote for your new state flag if you’re from this state!!!]

53. Massachusetts [this is your reminder to vote for your new state flag if you’re from this state!!!]

54. Minnesota [this is your reminder to vote for your new state flag if you’re from this state!!!]

I kept one Seal on a Bedsheet flag to honour this horrid time in American vexillological history. That is:

55. Delaware

And lastly

56. Nebraska (idk)”

While I agree with most of the OP’s opinions, I think Nebraska’s flag would look better if it looked something like this:

Better designed of course, I made this on Pic Collage in like 5 minutes

Im not sure about Wisconsin and Virginia, I just know I’m not the biggest fan of either (since Virginia’s flag has a separate meaning and Wisconsin’s is just bland.

Let me know what you think!

And if you’re the OP of this, please let me know, I like your choices!!

[mariacallous]

In February 2024, American anti-government agitator Ammon Bundy posted a video with a provocative title to his YouTube channel: ‘Want to know where Ammon Bundy is?’ 

Earlier in 2023, Bundy was ordered by an Idaho court to pay more than US$50 million in damages after accusing the state’s largest hospital of child trafficking and leading a campaign of harassment against its staff. A few months later, in November 2023, a warrant was issued for Bundy’s arrest by an Idaho judge. 

He promptly went into hiding with his whereabouts not publicly known — until now. 

Whether he meant to or not, Bundy provided just enough information in the February video — a few frames of a school district calendar on a refrigerator —  to lead Bellingcat to his location in Washington County, in southern Utah.

Bellingcat reached out to the Ada County Sheriff’s Office, which issued the arrest warrant, for comment on this piece; we received no reply at the time of publication. “I have no concerns, I have not been hiding but working and providing for my family”, said Bundy in a message sent to Bellingcat shortly after the publication of this article. “At anytime peace officers could find me if they wish. I pray that Utah has a stronger sense to protect free speech than Idaho does”, he wrote.

[astronomy-posts]

How does NASA use the constellations?

This photo of the constellation Orion was taken by NASA astronaut Karen Nyberg aboard the International Space Station.

Stars and constellations stay in approximately the same spot for many, many years. They only appear to move in the sky during the year because we are on a moving planet. Because the constellations are in a fixed location, they are often used as landmarks in the sky. Many stars, nebulae, and other objects are named after the constellations they are found in.

For example, meteor showers are named for the constellation where the meteors appear to be coming from. So, for example, the Orionids meteor shower, which occurs in October each year, appear to come from the same direction as the constellation Orion the Hunter.

The constellation Orion is framed by two Perseid meteors on Aug. 12, 2018, in Cedar Breaks National Monument, Utah. The Perseid meteor showers appear to come from the same direction as the constellation Perseus

If you are curious about the difference between astronomy and astrology, you can access the link below from another post of mine:

[beardedmrbean]

SALT LAKE CITY (AP) — A man accused of faking his death and fleeing the U.S. to avoid rape charges in Utah denied at a court appearance Tuesday that he is the suspect and, in an apparent British accent, called allegations that he wasn't giving his true name “complete hearsay."

Nicholas Rossi, whose legal name is Nicholas Alahverdian, is charged with the rape of a 21-year-old woman in Orem, Utah, in 2008, prosecutors said. He wasn't identified as a suspect until about a decade later due to a backlog of DNA test kits at the Utah State Crime Lab.

Rossi, 36, was extradited from Scotland earlier this month. He identified himself Tuesday as Arthur Knight Brown and gave a birthdate in British English — listing the day first, followed by the month and year — that is different from Rossi's, KSTU-TV reported.

He appeared from jail via video wearing an oxygen mask and did not enter a plea at the initial court appearance. He was difficult to understand at times and had to lift up the mask to be heard.

Deputy Salt Lake County attorney Tamara Basuez said Rossi has not admitted his name or birthdate since he returned to Utah.

“Objection, my lady, that is complete hearsay,” Rossi told the judge.

Rossi is jailed without the possibility of posting bail in the Orem case. The judge set a detention hearing for Jan. 26.

The judge said a lawyer would be appointed for Rossi. He said he has one, but that the attorney did not receive notice of Tuesday's hearing.

Rossi, who grew up in foster homes in Rhode Island, made a name for himself there as a vocal critic of the state’s Department of Children, Youth and Families.

Four years ago, he told media in Rhode Island that he had late-stage non-Hodgkin lymphoma and had weeks to live. An obituary published online claimed he died Feb. 29, 2020.

He used at least 10 different aliases over the years, prosecutors said.

Authorities said his run from the law ended when he was arrested in December 2021 after being recognized by someone at a Glasgow, Scotland, hospital while he was being treated for COVID-19. He insisted he was an Irish orphan named Arthur Knight and had never set foot on American soil.

The man had said he was framed by authorities who took his fingerprints while he was in a coma so they could connect him to Rossi. He has repeatedly appeared in court in a wheelchair, using an oxygen mask and speaking with the apparent British accent.

After a protracted court battle, Judge Norman McFadyen of Edinburgh Sheriff Court ruled in August that the extradition could move forward. The judge called Rossi “as dishonest and deceitful as he is evasive and manipulative.”

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: The People's Joker (2022)

Just because I left Fort Lauderdale, and with it Popcorn Frights, behind when I moved to Boston last year doesn't mean I have to give up on horror festivals. And just as I managed to sneak in a trip to the Telluride Horror Show amidst my adventures in Utah back in 2022, so too did I find that -- where else? -- Salem, Massachusetts hosted the annual Salem Horror Show in April and May. Tonight was the first night, and they screened one of the festival's token non-horror films in The People's Joker, a queer Batman spoof made without any official approval from DC Comics or Warner Bros. (They originally had a screening of Hocus Pocus planned with Kathy Najimy as a special guest, but Najimy had to cancel at the last minute.) How was it?

The People's Joker (2022)

Not rated

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2024/04/salem-horror-fest-week-1-day-1-peoples.html>

Score: 4 out of 5

The People's Joker exists in a place very similar to that enjoyed by Escape from Tomorrow. In both cases, you have independent filmmakers making unlicensed, unauthorized use of American pop iconography, Disney in the case of Escape from Tomorrow and DC Comics in the case of this film, as a way of satirizing and critiquing it with a particular focus on its corporate ownership and its role in the modern economy. Unlike Disney, which permitted the release of Escape from Tomorrow, DC Comics and Warner Bros. actively tried to clamp down on this film, which was ultimately saved by fair use laws protecting parodies like this. And of the two, I'd argue that this film pulls off what it was trying to do a lot better. While both films are elevated by a particular psychedelic edge and punk-rock attitude, Escape from Tomorrow was too incoherent to really stick the landing or even really convey what it was trying to say, while The People's Joker manages to successfully pull off being not only a dark parody of Batman in which the Joker is the hero, but also a hilarious comedy in its own right, a queer coming-out story, a satire of the entertainment industry (especially stand-up and sketch comedy), and a film that manages to get its message across loud and clear. For obvious reasons, I don't expect this to be more than a cult classic, but it's one I enjoyed and do not regret watching.

In this take on Batman's most iconic villain, one that's most obviously based on the movie Joker but draws on many versions of the character (as well as elements of Harley Quinn), the Joker is now a trans woman who leaves her disapproving mother in Smallville, Kansas for Gotham City in the hopes of becoming a comedian like her idol, UCB Live star Ra's al Ghul. There, upon being exposed to the gatekeeping and hypocrisy of the world of mainstream standup comedy, which here serves largely to prop up a corporate-run dystopia even as it still claims the legacy of those who once spoke truth to power, she starts her own underground "anti-comedy" troupe in an abandoned carnival that comes to be comprised of many of Batman's traditional baddies from the comics. (Her trademark gag is inviting people onstage to tell the world their saddest experiences and then huffing Smilex and laughing her ass off at their misery, because after all, this is still the Joker we're talking about.) This eventually puts her on a collision course with Batman himself, who's depicted as not only the jackbooted thug that more cynical deconstructions of superhero comics have framed him as, but also a perverted closet case on top of it. (Let's just say, this film gets a lot of mileage out of all those jokes you've heard about his relationship with his sidekick Robin.)

The film ain't exactly subtle in what it's saying. UCB Live is a clear-cut parody of Saturday Night Live, right down to the fact that Lorne Michaels is a character in the film, and moreover, its initialism is lifted straight from the famed Chicago comedy troupe the Upright Citizens Brigade that played such a major role in the development of standup and sketch comedy in the '90s and '00s, including producing multiple SNL stars. And while the film never names him so directly, you also get the sense that its writer, director, and star Vera Drew really isn't a fan of Joe Rogan or the standup circle he's built around himself, either. The Joker's introduction to UCB Live's casting has her body being scanned and her being deemed a potential comedy superstar because she has a small penis and is therefore mistaken for the kind of insecure man who the industry is built upon. Her comic idol Ra's starred in a Borat-like film whose main joke was making fun of foreigners. The whole reason Batman, an avatar of the elite if ever there was one (being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises and all), comes after her is because she directly criticizes and threatens the ruling class in a way that the corporate, sanitized world of UCB Live merely pretends to. Drew is somebody who clearly has experience with comedy and the people who inhabit it, and is very much writing that experience into the meat of the story, a metaphorical representation of an entertainment industry that, in her view, only cloaks itself in populism and progressive language enough that it can fend off criticism without actually making any meaningful changes.

Much of this is told through a mix of a riotous and raunchy comedy and the Joker's romance with her fellow comic Jason Todd, aka "Mr. J", a trans man who's envisioned here as a mix of Robin and the edgelord Jared Leto version of the Joker from the DC Extended Universe. The gags came flying at a mile a minute, and often had me busting my gut in laughter. The whole cast is game for the material, with Drew making the Joker a compelling anti-hero not just as a comic presence but also as somebody whose journey from a Midwestern girl-trapped-in-a-boy's-body to a flamboyant Clown Princess of Crime was one that I found myself genuinely invested in. Kane Distler as Mr. J was also an interesting presence, somebody whose relationship with the Joker starts promisingly only for him to turn emotionally abusive and self-centered (complete with a "gaslighting" pun that had me cracking up), indicating that, when he transitioned, he wound up embracing the most noxious forms of hypermasculinity. And as for the style of the film, Drew goes for an exaggerated feel that combines live-action filmmaking, highly stylized CGI, what appears to be a mannequin representing Poison Ivy, and very crude animation both 2D and 3D to create a feeling that reminded me of watching Adult Swim or surfing Newgrounds back in the 2000s. There clearly wasn't much of a budget here, so Drew instead leaned on creativity, both her own and the dozens of artists worldwide who each contributed to the film. It was as unique a film to watch as it was an entertaining comedy, one that demonstrated a lot of talent and commitment on the part of everybody involved.

The Bottom Line

There's no way in hell that The People's Joker is ever getting a wide release, but if it plays near you, I highly recommend seeking it out, as a twisted, countercultural sendup of everything from superheroes to mainstream comedy to who gets to call themselves "the counterculture".

[amostdelectablescribbler]

WIP Intro: Steel Horses and Hot Irons

As requested by @tea-and-mercury, i am writing up a wip intro for the big ‘un. 32k words deep as of writing this. Sooo:

Genre: Action

Setting: South USA, Arizona-Texas-Nevada area. The Mojave, pretty much.

Tropes: Bigass guns, physics that doesn’t really get addressed, a whole bunch of mental illness (poor Becca), romantic sideplot, big plot twist, secondary antagonist scarier than the primary.

Tag (so i can see it): #STHI (it’s gonna work a bit like a signature for me)

Imma just put the prologue and the character work i did in because it’s just that much easier.

Prologue

5 years ago, 2035, the atom bombs were dropped. First at the USA, then Afghanistan, Russia, China, most of the EU, France shone like a strobe light before the nuclear power stations finished exploding. They all fell in the face of nuclear armageddon. All that was left were craters, rubble and uranium. A few survived and began reclaiming the barren, toxic wasteland. In Utah, there was a lot of this. The Krugers, based in Arizona, were dangerous and silent assassins that disappeared into the night when they left. The Mob, the surviving criminals from the surviving prisons. The lowest of the low and barely organised. The Survivors, who can walk off just about anything and were mostly left alone by everyone else. Wandering bands of close friends also formed, finding work as hired guns.

The Motliest Crew were renowned the best. A group of 5; 3 men, 2 women, all balls-to-the-wall insane. They had no known names, only specialties. The Marksman, Rebecca Johansson “Pew.” A sniper who allegedly never missed a shot, but was very shy, anxious and probably depressed. This is to be confirmed as there are no therapists left in Arizona, or in Alberta, Canada. The Scout, aka, Sorren Clark. “Keep up, $#§/stain.” A speedster with a mouth and a shotgun, one get’s him into trouble, the other get’s him out. Not the most useful combo in Australia, but out in the wastes, invaluable. The Brawler, aka, Claudia Vander. “I’m gonna punch him.” A large frame packed with muscle and grit hailing from South Korea and California. Her fighting skills are near unmatched. 

The Demolitionist, aka, Callum Henderson. “I had a dog and his name was… Bingo!” A drunk, black, tartan-clad Scotsman with a grenade launcher and a rocket launcher. And a claymore, he has a sword too. The Gunman, aka, Rasputin Romanov. “Shoot first, ask question while reloading. Spetsnaz 101.” A man of few words and a Spetsnaz soldier from Russia, with a really heavy accent and a really heavy gun. 

Each of these wandering guns-for-hire wore a face mask or helmet to both obscure their identities and filter the noxious cocktail of chemicals in the air in some places. They were all armoured to various degrees with assorted run-down military kit that had been scavenged. The Gunman was clad in hulking Juggernaut military gear, the Demolitionist in assorted pads and plates, the Scout in Moto leathers and a bulletproof vest, the Brawler wore similar kit to the Scout and the Marksman was in ill-fitting, minimalist spec-ops kit. Minimalist because only a third of what they found came close to fitting her. Each suit was tailor-made (except the Marksman) by it’s wearer, each adding their own personal flourishes and decorative elements, like sketchily-woven tartan, tally marks, oil crayon, the works.

Now, the character work i did (and added):

Rasputin and Becca:

Callum, Sorren and Claudia split up to go and have fun, leaving Becca with Rasputin. They sat in the hotel room, looking at each other quizzically. Becca had curled herself up in a blanket nest across the room from Rasputin’s massive frame that was posted on a bed, leaning into the wall, staring blankly into the space between air molecules. He looked around, registered Becca’s comfort ball, cracked his back and shifted his posture to something more relaxed.

“So.”

“Mm?” Becca mumbled from her nest, poking an anxious head out into the dim light.

“Why are you hiding?” 

Becca paused in thought, eyes darting from Rasputin to the floor, to the roof before finally talking, her own indecision caving to his patience.

“I’m worried.” She whispered into her blankets, “I’m worried about them.”

“Hmm. In Spetsnaz, we had a good cure for worries. We would sit and talk about worry. You want to try?”

“Mhm” she slowly heaved her miniature frame out of the blanket nest and towards Rasputin, who lay down on the bed fully, shuffling along to make space, further dwarfing Becca. She curled up next to him, heart rate going from cardio to moving. Listening to his huge heart slowed down hers, his relaxed body position relaxing hers. There was a security in being so close to something so large, like swimming with a whale.

“So. Why are you worrying, Becca?”

“I- I’m worried for Callum and Sorren and Claudia. I don’t know what might happen to them. Even if I was there with them, I would just slow them down, but I like knowing where they are so that I know they can protect me if they have to.” Rasputin’s huge bald head turned around

“I will tell you this, Becca: I have protected all of them before. I can protect you.”

“There are monsters out there than can hurt them?”

“But none them can hurt me. I am Russian. I am Spetsnaz. Nothing hurt me.” Rasputin’s gravelly, broken English was somehow comforting. 

“Really?”

“Da.”

Callum:

Another cold, dark night came as the red sun plummeted below the horizon. In the town, there was a bar. A man sat alone, at the end of the bar, drinking from a flagon of foamy beer and people-watching and checking his watch, waiting. For something or someone to spur him into action. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. 

An hour passed and he finished his beer, ordering another from the barkeep. The night crept on fruitlessly for the man. The stream of people coming in and out slowed to a trickle as he waited in the dark bar, wooden flagon in hand, beer getting colder, patience wearing thinner. Finally, one man entered who caught his attention. A tall, burly figure with a tartan kilt and sash over his impressive armour and helmet. The man held himself proud and tall, confident in himself and his abilities, but not arrogant. He walked with a muted swagger as he progressed to the bar and made his order, shifting the claymore on his back to avoid the seat. Some whiskey or other on the rocks. He had an enormously Scottish accent and as he removed his helmet to drink, it was revealed that he wore an eyepatch and had a nasty burn scar plastered on the left side of his face, sprawling under the eyepatch and barely visible in the shadow. 

The man stalked forwards silently, sitting beside the Scotsman without making a single quiet sound. 

“So, is it really you?” The hooded man had a smooth, melodious voice, with a noticeable Mexican accent.

“Who’s really who?” Callum replied, unflapped by a stranger randomly appearing beside him. In the better light, the man saw belts of grenades wrapped around the scot’s waist and bulges from beneath his sash. 

“You. Are you really the famous Callum Henderson? Legendary demolition man for the Motliest Crew?” The stranger’s voice somewhere between admiration and mockery.

“So tha’s what they’re callin’ us. ‘The Motliest Crew.’ ‘Bit demeaning, no?”

“Not at all. I’m a huge fan of yours. I’ve been watching your antics for a while now and i was wondering if I could get an autograph?” The strange man spoke from beneath a hood, eyes glinting red in the gloom, a crocodile grin on his face as he reached i to his poncho and coat,

“Aye, sure. Tell me where tae sign.” Callum turned to get a pen from his pocket and when he turned back around, a tattered, sun-bleached “wanted: dead or alive” poster of him was placed on the dark wooden bar. The wind whistled as the man tapped the ‘dead’ part, “Just here, please.”

“Yer a bounty hunter, eh?”

“I am. One of the best, too. The Wolf of District 13.”

“So, wolf, is this the best yeh have? Vague, indiscernible threats and uncanny looks?” Callum replied, showing no fear of the man beside him, as he downed his scotch, putting a 5€$ bill beneath the glass. The Wolf chuckled for a second, before going dangerously calm, retreating into the dimly lit bar and drawing himself up to his full, enormous height. 

Cybernetics whirred to life from beneath the wolf’s poncho and hood, as his eyes glowed red and a hiss of steam whistled from his elbows. Callum stood, grabbing his sword, “So this is how yeh wannae do this?”

“Yes.” Hissed the wolf, as his mechanical legs grew a third joint, making them look like the legs of a wolf, lean and strong and good for chasing. Callum stood, taking the poster to inspect it. He looked for a while, put it on the bar, signed it, pocketed his pen and walked out of the bar. The Wolf lowered his guard in disbelief, hunching back over to examine the wanted poster. He had circled “Dead” and signed it at the bottom. The wolf finished his beer and sulked off into the night, after paying his tab.

Claudia:

The Wolf of District Seven stalked down the back alleys of the Last City, following the cheering to a dingy looking warehouse with lights and shouts coming from within. Loud, aggressive music blasted from huge speakers, the bass shaking the walls. The Wolf entered the building by walking through the front door guarded by bouncers without being noticed at all. In the centre of the building, a ring had been made, inside of which, there were two fighters. One was a large man with massive arms and cybernetic reinforcements on his elbows and shoulders and he wore brass knuckles on his ham-fists and a metal plate on his jaw. The other fighter -the Brawler- was a smaller woman with broad shoulders and strong, lean arms. Claudia was still tall, but this other fighter was massive, yet her confident stance, and side-guard indicated extreme proficiency in her trade. The large man wore brass knuckles, she wore steel boxing gloves haphazardly manufactured from scrap sheet-metal and cast-iron. 

The man brought a standard boxing guard up and his opponent steadied herself before bouncing on her toes. The large man angled himself to his opponent and swung a huge haymaker which was caught by the woman, pinned to her side and she started slamming him with crushing blows to the liver and ribs. Each blow made a cracking and a clanging as steel smashed bone. With one final powerful uppercut, she released the mans arm and slammed him in the chin, knocking him unconscious before he hit the cold stone floor.

The Wolf came through the crowd without detection or suspicion of a tall, hunched figure in a black poncho and hood hiding the figure’s face. She called into the crowd, “Who’s next? C’mon, dude! It said fight ring on the poster, not warm-up gym!” The Wolf took his chance and approached Claudia, weaving through the crowd, “I will fight you, if nobody else wants to, that is.” The Brawler looked at her new opponent, weighing up the fighting skills of this strange hooded figure, “Bring it, big dude!” she tapped her chin with her glove, taunting the Wolf. “You know, I’m a big fan of you and your crew, Brawler. Before we start, can I please get an autograph?” The Wolf asked, crocodile grin spreading beneath his hood, red eyes catching the light as he withdrew a pen and wanted poster from the folds of his poncho. His metal limbs glinted in the spotlight, clawed steel fingers on full display. He handed her the pen, “Just here please.” He tapped under ‘DEAD’ in ‘Dead or alive.’

Claudia signed the poster in pen before she realised what it was, stepping back as she realised, “Trying to bring in the reward money?”

“Have to make a living somehow. It’s not personal.” The Wolf removed his black poncho to reveal a body made mostly of metal and machine parts. Steam hissed in the shining pistons operating the Wolf’s arms and legs. Guards were raised and it began.

The Wolf dropped low, correctly anticipating a jab to the face, claws grating on the cold stone floor. “Slow.” He cackled with glee, swerving past a knee aimed to the gut and sweeping the supporting leg from below her. “Sloppy.” He taunted from behind Claudia as she got up and readied herself to fight properly. He took the next punch that came for him, a misdirect left hook into an elbow to the chin and a slam to the ribs. Both massive blows made a sickening clunk as metal was slammed together violently. “Weak.” Growled the Wolf, as steam hissed. Before she could process it, the Wolf’s metal fist was an inch before her face, and promptly slamming hard into said face, pushing her backwards. The next blow came before she was done staggering. A monstrously powerful ridgehand to the lower back, snapping the Brawler back up, only to take a huge uppercut to the liver and a sweeping kick to the back of the knee, bringing her down into a spinning back kick. She was out before she hit the floor. The Wolf drew his clawed hand into a stabbing blade, winding up to deliver the killing blow, before the referee stepped in, stopping the fight. “That’s enough. You’ve beaten her, prize ‘s in the pot.” 

“Fine. I’ll take your bribe, but that doesn’t pull her bounty off the board.” The Wolf growled, cursing under his breath as he left the dingy arena. 

and finally, Sorren:

The Wolf of District 13 sat at the end of another bar with another mug of beer. The MotoGP was on the TV, engines roaring through the abused speakers. One man sat watching, he had a beer in his gloved hand and a confidence in his demeanour. “I know you’re there, mate. I’ll get to you when Ducati finish this lap in first.” The Scout waved a hand in the Wolf’s direction, before retreating it and sipping on a gin. The Wolf stared in awe and bitterness at the scout’s arrogance, he had never been dismissed by a target before. Ignored once or twice, acknowledged every time, but never dismissed. This was not going to fly. The Wolf advanced silently towards his quarry, making no sound, red eyes glowing with malice. The Scout waved his hand again, tutting. “No, I said I’ll get to you in a bit. I keep my word. Sit back down, finish your drink, and put the knife away.” 

“And if I don’t?” The Wolf muttered under his breath.

“Them you’ll go down in history as the most boring assassin ever. If you want to kill me, you’ll do it on my schedule.”

“Idiot.” 

“No, you idiot, I’m reckless. The difference being one is being thick as bricks and the other is having no regard for your own safety.”

The Wolf was a very patient killer, he would wait for days for his quarry to show themself, but after 5 minutes with this intolerable little man he had very much lost it. He went in with his knife and went straight for Sorren’s spine. He missed the spinal cord because of the Scout’s impossible reaction speed, but instead his blade was buried in his lumbar. 

“Ouch. Welp, I’m off to die somewhere pretty. See you in hell.” Sorren groaned as he got up from his stool, blade still stuck in his back, and walked out of the bar bleeding everywhere, hopped on his motorbike, and caned it back to the Hotel California deep within the sprawling city.

-end-

Btw i got more wips to do more intros on, since you’re so desicated and insist on reading to the end of these :3

[alliluyevas]

3, 6, and 16 for the book asks?

What were your top five books of the year?

The Hemingses of Monticello: An American Family by Annette Gordon-Reed (2008).

My parents and I went to Monticello about a month ago and I picked this up in the gift shop. My parents had visited in 1972 (my dad) and 1991 (my mom) and I had never been, and obviously a LOT has changed in how they talk about history at Monticello in the last 30-50 years. I think that the current exhibitions and tours at the site are really doing a good job of engaging with the stories of the enslaved people who lived at Monticello, both Sally Hemings and her children + the extended Hemings family and members of other families, but I definitely wanted to know more. (side note: for my Virginia/DMV followers or anyone who ever happens to be in the Charlottesville area, it is really worth visiting! Absolutely fascinating and they're doing great public history work.)

I literally could not put this book down, I read it in a week while working full time and finishing up graduate school applications. It's beautifully written and absolutely captivating. Gordon-Reed does fantastic work both with existing primary sources and fleshing out some of the things we will never know because no one wrote or spoke about them. It's a deeply sad story and left me feeling very raw, but also thinking about resilience and the eternal complexities of the human heart.

Sally in Three Worlds: An Indian Captive in the House of Brigham Young by Virginia Kerns (2021).

Copy-pasting my Goodreads review: This is an incredibly powerful book that tries to give voice to the story of a woman who was profoundly marginalized both in life and in history, and to the complex dynamics between peoples as Mormon settlers colonized Utah. Kerns does a magnificent job of weaving Sally's story out of source material that is rich in many respects and deeply limited in others. Her writing style is also really compelling: lyrical, poetic, and deeply felt. It also gave me a completely new frame of reference for the history of women in Mormonism and for the dynamics of the Young household. A deeply upsetting book but also one I could not recommend enough.

I actually posted about this last night, but there are a lot of interesting thematic similarities between this book and Hemingses of Monticello. Again, directly copy-pasting from last night's post: They're about very different cultural contexts but deal with similar subjects in many ways: race, gender, slavery, and very complicated familial dynamics...I think both books also do a really good job of portraying the life of a woman (poignantly, the two women actually share the same first name) who left nothing in her own words.

I used the word "painful intimacy" in my first post about Sally in Three Worlds, and I think it very much applies to the household dynamics portrayed in both books.

Like a Fiery Meteor: The Life of Joseph F. Smith by Stephen Taysom (2023).

Again, stealing from my own Goodreads review (I'm the only person who has reviewed this book on GR, rip): I think a non-hagiographical full-length biography of Joseph F. Smith was long overdue, and I was very excited to read this, but I did not expect to find it as emotionally compelling and thought-provoking as I did. Taysom does a fantastic job of telling the story not just of Joseph F., who comes off by turns as both deeply sympathetic and deeply unlikable, but of his expansive polygamist family and their environment. I think this was a very compassionate, nuanced portrait of someone who had deep and profound unaddressed trauma that affected his whole life, and who was capable of both overwhelming love and cruel, controlling and even violent behavior towards his loved ones. I think the book is very aware of that dichotomy and the factors that shaped Joseph F.'s life and choices and is full of really fantastic analysis. I thought the discussion of gender roles and how they related to Joseph F.'s struggles with both anger and anxiety and his interpretation of those feelings was particularly well-done.

These were definitely my top three books of the year, and honestly just fantastic works of historical/biographical storytelling period. I read Sally in Three Worlds in May, Fiery Meteor in June, and Hemingses of Monticello a month ago, and all three of the books have really stuck with me. They're all quite haunting, and very thought-provoking, even months later.

Go Down, Moses by William Faulkner (1942).

I read this much earlier in the year, but again it actually intersects really well as a fictional counterpart to The Hemingses of Monticello. Go Down, Moses is a novel formed out of seven interconnected short stories, centering on the black and white halves of the same family, unacknowledged cousins. I've loved Faulkner's writing since high school (well, really since I read A Rose for Emily in seventh grade, but I read The Sound and the Fury in high school) and I wanted to expand my exposure to his work. I have yet to read anything by Faulkner where I wasn't just blown away by the literary quality of his prose, and I think the interlocking stories setup of the book was very effective.

I did think back to this book and Southern Gothic in general several times while reading about the Hemings-Jefferson family--it's not like I wasn't aware of the historical context behind southern gothic as a genre but it really made it very explicit. Especially during the parts of the book talking about Jefferson's white family and their efforts to create a family legacy that explicitly left out the Hemings relatives, and then thinking about future generations of white southerners like Faulkner engaging--or not engaging--with this past. Like--this is the ghost haunting the house, this is the rot at the heart of the family tree.

Luncheon of the Boating Party by Susan Vreeland (2007).

This feels a bit odd thematically tacked on at the end here, because while it's not like this book is just totally light-hearted, it's not literally about intensely traumatic interpersonal relationships in the way that the previous four are. It is, however, a really great historical fiction novel! It's about the creation of the painting by Pierre-Auguste Renoir that shares the same title, with several narrators--Renoir and some of the people who sat for the painting--telling an overlapping story. The prose is fantastic, which you don't see as often as I'd like in histfic, I really felt the rich sensory development of the historical world, and Vreeland does a great job of fleshing out complex and compelling characters and relationships.

Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

Oh, so much, lol. As well as long-term TBR stuff that will roll over to next year, there are a couple newly released books that I just picked up from the library that I hope to read in the next couple weeks before the year is over/before they go back to the library. (The Vaster Wilds and Master Slave Husband Wife. I can't renew them because they're "hot picks" and a bunch of other people have them on hold.)

What is the most over-hyped book you read this year?

I already answered this one in a previous ask, and honestly I can't think of another book I read that I would call over-hyped per se.

[wightbuildings]

How long does it take to build a Pole Building?

Pole buildings in Utah are significant for storage, woodworking or metalworking shop, housing for livestock or toy-boat, equestrian riding arenas, pool houses, and many other things. Pole buildings are simple and economical to build. They are also easy to expand, which makes them a popular option for businesses looking to grow their facilities. For more queries, call us at (801) 900-1290.

[shondratasha]

What, 2 posts the same day? Finding a needlepoint framer who will do something besides straight lines on mattes has been difficult. Luckily, I found Dustin at Art and Frame in Murray, Utah. He said it took three tries to get the cut outs to work correctly. But it looks just like I wanted it. Although I wonder if I should have used black instead of the pale pink for the 2nd matte.

[emmanuelmonzonphotography]

I don't want to go where I'm going I just want to leave where I am.

Around Wendover and Bonneville salt flats. UTAH.

Through my urban sprawl series I am asking myself : am I leaving a city or entering a new environment?

I like to play/'mix' two approaches: The codes of the new topographics and the concept of "in between-two states" inspired by the anthropologist Marc Auge under the name of non-places. I like transitional places, like intersections or passages from one world to another, such as from a residential area to an industrial area. I also like the tourist places altered by the human trace. We often find this feeling of emptiness, of visual paradox by travelling throughout the United States. The transition from one site to the next: You have arrived and at the same time you have never left. I believe that the expansion of the urban or industrial landscape in the American natural landscape has redefined this space and has become itself a "non-place."

In my artwork there is no judgment, no denunciation, only the picture itself. If I could sum up the common theme of my photos, it would be about emptiness, about silence. My pictures try to extract from the mundane urban landscape a form of estheticism. Where most people only pass through, I stop and look for some form of poetic beauty. I like repetition, I like series, and I like driving around.

''There are several common threads woven throughout Emmanuel’s photography. First, he only uses square frames to create a strong focus on the subject, and second, his photos always contain manmade structures or objects, but never any actual people. These two elements combine to cause viewers to perceive a deep void in the photos; an almost post-apocalyptic sense of isolation. By displaying structures humans built to serve their own needs, but in a rare state of absolute idleness, Emmanuel creates an eerily disconcerting environment. Looking at the photos, you can almost hear the chilly silence that’d accompany them.''.Press.

''Trained as a painter,Emmanuel Monzon is mindful of the grey texture of his photographs. His empty landscapes reflect his attachment to forms and colours, giving them space to beheard. To me, the series exhibited at Charbon art Space echoes both the human loneliness and the power of things against a lost American backdrop. This shadow looks like a calm rain of grey while one can hear the rustling leaves of the tree…'' (Caroline Ha Thuc, contributor ArtPress Magazine).

Curator: Sandrine Hermand-Grisel

[2022roadtrip]

9/21

I'll start my return to South Carolina next week, first going to Boise to pick up a chrome moly frame for my Sportster.  (it'll drop thirty or forty pounds from the bike's total weight).  Then to Montana to pick up a load of sapphire concentrated gravel, to Utah to dig a few trilobites on my partner's claim, Santa Fe to visit a dear friend, Dallas to see my sister for the first time in 5 years (we call and text routinely).  I hope to stop in Alabama to visit a poet friend, North Carolina to see my other poet friend (the only two poets I actually know in real life).  I may go through Atlanta to see the boy who wrote the music to my lyrics "Lydia and the Bad Boys" or maybe the upcountry of South Carolina to visit an old running buddy.  I may or may not get to write much, but I'll easily have better access to YOUR writing, and I will enjoy that very much. Earlier thus summer I told you of an enchantment that came over me, pulling me into all manner of stories.  I've read more books and short stories in the past four months than I have in the past ten years. The spell seems to have culminated in my finding the story I just finished: "Other Birds" by Sarah Addison Allen.  I don't know when I've enjoyed a book more and can't imagine even starting any other book right now.  The story keeps my thoughts swirling.  It's such a delightful sensation I think I'll just let it carry me through the next several days.

(9/29 couldn't post this from the mine last week. am in Boise this morning getting more of my fill of Tumblr and getting ready to go get my frame.)

[bartelsphoto]

Some B&W’s from our Canyon Overlook hike in Zion. Been loving looking at old Ansel Adams frames and appreciate the range of his values in his prints! Shot on the @canonusa EOSR with my 24-70RF. You can see these as a video Reel with extra footage in the previous post! :) #shotoncanon #morninglight #beautifuldestinations #beautifullight #landscape #landscapes #landscapephotography #landscapelovers #landscape_captures #landscape_lovers #utah #explore #wanderlust #usa #landscapephotographer #nature #naturelovers #naturephotography #zion #zionnationalpark #nationalparks #nationalparkservice #americathebeautiful #southwest #southwestphotography #gtfo #nature_brilliance #bnw #bnwlandscape #bnwphotography (at Zion National Park) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cq-6NTtrBw2/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[karisamariephotographyutah]

Lively Floral Portrait Photography Session on the Jordan Parkway Trail

Looking for portrait photography that’s creative, colorful, and full of life? My latest blog post showcases a stunning floral portrait session on Utah’s picturesque Jordan Parkway Trail. With a mix of live and faux flowers, we created a vibrant backdrop that perfectly complemented the bold, stylish outfit and the natural beauty of the surroundings. The session was filled with fun poses, from graceful stool shots to dreamy, flower-filled landscapes—each frame celebrating art, nature, and personality.

Check out the full post for more inspiration, tips on creating your own floral shoot, and info on booking your personalized portrait session!