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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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What Kind of Man

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Period typical sexism

AO3

Chapter 1: White wedding

A storm was brewing.It was the beginning of summer in Southern England, far too late in the year for weather like this. Maybe it was a symbol of what was to come, an omen. Despite the weather, the village was abuzz. Your house being the centre of the commotion. The occasion was supposed to be one of immense joy, of happiness and of love. It was the day that little girls and young women alike had dreamed of, the day their lives would change. However, for you the air of the day of your wedding was sombre, but maybe it was just you, you felt like you were about to attend your own funeral. //// You sat in front of the mirror while your mother braided your hair back into a low bun. You were still in awe at the crisp white fabric of your dress. Although you had made the dress yourself, the fabric itself was gifted to you by your future husband, he had spared no expense it seemed. You still had the letter that came with the package that day, it was the only piece of correspondence you had with the man. Your mothers face was beaming with joy as she did your hair, you however looked as gloomy as the weather outside. “Mother? Do you hate me?” you asked. Your mother stopped braiding your hair and looked up at you through the mirror. “why would you think that my child?” “you’re sending me so far up north, where its cold, you know I love the sun more than anything” She finishes off your hair and inserts some delicate pieces of ‘baby’s breath’ into the back. “My dear, as women we must make sacrifices for our families no matter how hard they maybe. Your brother wouldn’t suggest someone he didn’t trust, and be grateful, your marrying a Count. It brings me great joy that you will be taken care of in a way no other boy in this village could, I can die in peace knowing you won’t starve to death.” She puts the final touches in your hair, and you wrinkle your nose at the mention of death, a topic your mother seemed to discuss more often now. “now please put a smile on your face, you look utterly miserable, it isn’t your wake it’s your wedding, so please try to look the part of the blushing bride”, she said as she kissed your cheek. You huff and force a smile. “And stop huffing and puffing, it’s very unladylike.” You resist the temptation to roll your eyes. Before the conversation could go any further, your friend burst through the door, “HE’S HERE!” “Catherine please don’t do that again, I could have pinned the veil into Y/Ns head, and we don’t want any blood on the wedding day, its bad luck”. Your mother says as she finishes pinning your veil. A knock on the door interrupts you once again, this time it was your father. “ready to go?” he asked. “Oh yes yes just adding some last touches” your mother replied for you. “I would like a moment alone please, I’m a little nervous”, you said. “well… be downstairs in 10 minutes, we mustn’t keep the Count waiting,” your father responded. They all left the room, leaving you to your thoughts. You thought about the man you were about to marry, a Northern Count that you had never met before. Although you had never left your village, the name ‘Michael Langdon’ was known far and wide. You had heard stories of his beauty and charm from the women who never seemed to shut up. Your own friend Catherine had met him once at an event in London and sang his praises for days, you thought she’d gone mad. But you’d also heard stories about him from the men, stories you shouldn’t have heard. You couldn’t help yourself; you weren’t allowed in the parlour room when your brother was entertaining guests after his return form the Grand Tour. So, you spent the evenings with your ear pressed against the door, and you heard everything. Your brother spent the nights boasting about the debauchery and revelry he participated in, with your to-be husbands name mentioned on numerous occasions, he seemed to be the ringleader of all the ‘activities’ the boys got up to. Your first impression of him was not that great. Thinking back on all the stories did nothing to calm your nerves. The feeling of dread just seemed to get worse. You took one last look at yourself, smoothing down your dress. You picked up your lace gloves and put them on. Finally, you pulled your veil over your face and started making your way downstairs. //// You stood waiting for the doors to open as the bells rang to signal your arrival. Those bells wouldn’t be enough to ward away the evil that was to come. You held your fathers arm so tightly, you felt like a child learning to walk again. The doors started to open, you thought you would pass out. “Remember, look happy”, your mother’s voice echoes in your head and you force a little smile. You start walking down the aisle, trying not to look at the man you were to be bound to. But the walk did not last long enough. You stood at the front facing him. Michael lifted your veil and you finally looked at him. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked into those icy blue eyes. His golden hair, slightly curled, rested on his shoulders. You thought for a minute that an angel from the stained glass that surrounded you had come to life and graced you with his presence. But the smirk that was present on his plump lips told another story. You had spent so long gawking at your groom that you didn’t realise the ring had been placed on your finger, and it was your turn to say your vows. You looked down at his hands as he removed his glove, the bright red seemed so out of place for a ceremony like this. You repeat after the priest and place the ring on his finger; thunder booms in the sky. If you hadn’t been in such a daze, maybe you would have noticed how cold his hand was. The priest finishes the ceremony with a “you may now kiss your bride”. Michael leans down and gives you a quick peck. His lips had felt so soft, and as you turned to leave the church, you knew you finally looked the part of the ‘blushing bride’ //// The carriage ride back to your home was so quiet. You spent the journey looking out the window, taking in your village for what felt like the last time. You felt Michael staring at you, but your daren’t look at him again, fearing you may be bewitched by him. You had never been so thankful to see your front door; you could have leaped out the carriage. Michael got out first, offering his hand to help you out. Just as you both stepped into the house, thunder boomed again, and the rain pelted down as the door was closed. A minute too late and you would have been soaked. You were both surrounded by your guests, congratulating you on your marriage. You both thanked them for attending, while making your way over to the dinner table to cut the cake. You both held the knife, your gloved hand gripped by his as you cut into the cakes, you squeaked at seeing the inside was red, like blood. You heard Michael chuckling behind you, “its red velvet my dear, quite the rage in the Americas”. Your guests, just like you, were fascinated by this new flavour, but you were reluctant to try it, the nausea of the day getting worse at the thought of food. You both sat at the dinner table to eat with your guests. You ate very little, fearing you may be sick at any minute. Michael was a different story; you saw him eat more cake than a child on their birthday. He turned to you, holding out his dessert fork, “here, try some, I’m being generous I don’t usually share my desserts”. You rolled your eyes and reluctantly leant forward, allowing him to feed you a piece. You smiled at him, “its quite nice actually”. “I know” he replied and turned back to speak to another guest. You wanted to slap that smirk off his face. //// The evening came and the weather showed no sign of stopping, maybe it was a blessing and you could spend one more night in your childhood bed. But Michael had other plans. He stood and turned to your father, “we should really get going, I unfortunately have important business to attend to back home and it can’t wait any longer,” It was as if his honey like voice had your father in a trance. Your father being the logical man her was, would never let you leave in such terrible conditions. Yet he replied with a quick “oh yes of course”. You tried to be the voice of reason, “but the weather is terrible, the roads outside this village are prone to flooding, and I haven’t even changed yet.” Michael looked at you like you were stupid, “my dear, we do not have enough time for you to get changed, its late already and we won’t arrive until early tomorrow morning. Worrying about the roads isn’t your responsibility” he said. You father replied “Michael’s right, the carriage has already been loaded with your things and all your dresses are in there. Who are we to interfere in the business of a Count?” Michael looks at you condescendingly again, the urge to hit him resurfaces as your fingers twitch, you wonder why this man makes you want to be so violent. Your family walks you both to the door, saying their goodbyes. You wish you’d hugged them tighter. Your mother kisses your cheek one final time, “pull your veil down dear, its bad luck for your face to be seen during your journey to you new home. Make sure you write to me as soon as you get there, I’ll worry until I get your letter.” “of course, mother I won’t forget” you reply. You turn to enter the carriage and Michael pulls your veil over your face, “bad luck, remember” he says. You enter the carriage, resisting the urge to knee him in the groin, and wave back to your parents as it pulls out. You can barely see their faces through the rain, but it would be the last time you would. Michael sits opposite you, stretches and places his feet next to you. “there’s so much rage in you today, your jaw might hurt from all the clenching. Be a little happy, you’ve married a Count” he said. You looked at him, grateful your veil and the darkness obscured his face, “I’m making a big change Count Langdon, your county is very far from my home, and this marriage was my dear brothers’ decision, not mine. I’d like us to get along so Ill hold my tongue for now. If it isn’t a bother, I’m quite tired and id like to sleep.” You shot back. His jaw clenched, his hand shot out and grabbed your chin like a vice. In a low snarl he replied, “then sleep”. With those words, your eyes fell shut, giving in to the overwhelming urge to sleep, you face still in Michael’s hands.

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#my writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #WKM1

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genesiagoudal-u8report · 4 years

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🟣 WKM1: Categorisation

(re)creation of commons

⬛️ CLASSROOM

Inquiry + Knowledge *️⃣(evaluating aims, expectations, assessment) This project conducted me to re-learn how to learn and to experiment with ways to “educate” in a hopefully brand new, meaningful sense. Through the technique of hand-weaving, I wanted to regain an inner serenity by escaping the digital world for a few days. I was looking for a way to relax. I wasn't feeling very impressed by the potential difficulty of the craft. Indeed, "I have always been a manual person".

Process *️⃣(storytelling, troubles and thinking journey, audience) The technique revealed itself to be, surprisingly, way more challenging than I thought it would be. The time pressure set by the project and the pressure I put on myself resulted, ironically, in a lot more anxiety into finishing a professional product, that will therefore give me legitimacy to teach weaving to others. The project firstly shifted towards an individually focused learning experience. I would design a personal guide to weaving with a focus on relaxation and mental wellbeing. An anxiety growed in me, I started to question the guide's capacity to achieve my objectives. "Will anyone be able to complete weaves on my advices, and balance their emotions ? How will they handle failures ?" These interrogations led me to reconsider the project's scope of action. I went back and focused more on the underlying concern : mental health awareness, relaxation and mindfulness.

Inquiry *️⃣(re-purposing, new audiences, possibilities) The audience quickly evolved to become group based. I worked on reaching a higher level of empathy and mental health support given in schools nowadays. My ambition targets children's school groups, to facilitate inter-personal exchanges and debates in between adult and youngsters, as well as to provide a progressive educational space. The outcome would construct a soften collective space for conversations and practical mindfulness. Weaving and its benefits will still be introduced by a designed set of rugs allowing people to lie down, meditate, exercise and debate.

Communication *️⃣(system construction) The system can also be adopted as a talking pillow with each rug stating specific terms, like "break", "schedule", etc. Every voice is considered, the group will work on their listening & understanding skills.

Knowledge *️⃣(research based on articles, trends and ongoing studies) Mindfulness has recently gained more attention. The Anna Freud Center is currently running a UK national study, 'Inspire', introducing mindfulness as part of the national curriculum. I can project my designed outcomes to be part of these interventions.

Communication In an utopian perspective, the setting could generate new ways of voting communal decisions, as it affects everyone's wellbeing.

Inquiry *️⃣(investigating alternative schooling) Summerhill school is a positive example of a self-governed community "Our school decision-making process is democratic. Each adult and child has an equal vote." Play, using language, movements, bodies and interactive experiences can serve future adults to grow in a fast-paced growing world. Education as a role to play to support and accompany individuals.

Communication + Inquiry *️⃣(generating a message, intentions, questioning my role here) The outcome, informed by the craft itself, my personal learning and a new approach to mindfulness in education, results in a broader sense of awareness to the problem. In the end, the project is not trying to look for a treatment, it is looking for prevention, care and support. My role here as both designer and experience facilitator, questions people's understanding of body, space and langage communications. My practice grows towards a phenomenological attitude. Here, I wish to help young people to be present and perceive through the use of space (the room), physicality (the bodies, textures & movements) and mindfulness (the mind, understanding, consciousness). Consciousness and experience get intertwined to allow this third space to thrive.

Knowledge *️⃣(quotes and reflections) Indeed, "We live at the same time in the common property world and in a private world" (Merleau-Ponty 2008, 335). In our ever changing society, we have to mentally combine and assess the us and the else. A generalised understanding of ourselves, and the environment around can anchor an effective practice of mindfulness in nowadays classrooms.

⬛️ MUSEUM

Knowledge + Inquiry *️⃣(brief, questioning the notion and myself) The second project provided me with more elements to critically reflect on another aspect of education : the structure & role of museum in society. The brief is professionally challenging. How can my critical research, be applied to real life applications. Indeed, we are ask to design an interactive for the Postcard exhibition. The theme of museum supports my ongoing reflections on play within learning experiences. The museum institution is shifting in its purpose and its ambitions. Rapid societal developments urges a need for a change in the current museum definition. Debate are vivid, international committees are struggling to find an agreement.

Inquiry *️⃣(research: struggles defining museums, international conflicts, building my narratives) “A museum is a non-profit, permanent institution in the service of society and its development, open to the public, which acquires, conserves, researches, communicates and exhibits the tangible and intangible heritage of humanity and its environment for the purposes of education, study and enjoyment.” (24 August 2007, ICOM, current definition)

Knowledge *️⃣(situation assessment, where do I stand in the debate) A proposition was made in July 2019 but was refused, categorised as outrageously inappropriate, irrelevant and political. The controversy revolved around 'equal rights and access for all people', 'transparency of the museum' and a 'contribution to human dignity and social justice, global equality and planetary wellbeing'.

Process + Communication *️⃣(outcome, intentions, message) Following my interest of creating tools for people to understand and interact with space, I focused on creating a see-through publication encouraging visitors to be actor in the writing of the new museum definition. The 10 pages publication leaves fill-in-blanks text and spaces, to write, brainstorm, draw perceptions of the present and future museum. I worked on achieving a higher level of accessibility by guiding the visitor through its knowledge and experience of the space. Customisation and actions are encouraged. The window created by the sheets situates the artefact and its informations in dedicated environments.

Communication *️⃣(aims, my position, my voice) The artefact works as an intricate metaphor of museums in today’s debates. The glass and normalised printed format brings back the common notion of transparency and openness. The book's thickness allows it to stand on its own, as an exhibit piece. Information is hold within the object, it becomes a contemplation artefact. It also questions the authority the museum holds over the content and curation.

Inquiry *️⃣(quotes, research and phenomenological theories) “Visitors stop being passive observers; they change instead to active players who feel they’re somehow influencing the outcome of events.” {Sarah Fellows, Museum at play, p19)

“Games allow the audience to look at objects in different ways, giving permission to question previous assumptions about the museum, its content and its place in the users’ lives. A recurring theme is the museum’s shift from a traditional “keeper of artefact” to a collection of “stories”. (Katy Beale, Museum at play, p24)

Interactions transform the museum into a social space. A greater visitor inclusion as primary source of knowledge would enrich a positive learning/ teaching co-experience.

Process + Communication *️⃣(outcome, audience, intentions) Secondarily, I designed a speculative workshop for the '150 years of Postcards' exhibition. Visitors are invited to imagine future means of communications, the 'future(s)' for postcards, by using designed postcards and stickers to set up imaginary scenarios. These tools are guiding creative thinking to spark varied ideas through individuals.

'You are part of the story, you are the story, you are writing the story' (me).

The power is given to the public to construct singular narratives. They will also be able to slide their newly found ideas and stories on a wall display. They have immediate power over the exhibit, it's them.

Knowledge + Inquiry Changing Relationships to Play’s workshop ('Permission to Play' at the Wellcome Collection, Saturday 15 February 2020) investigates ways to play, educate and spark creativity in a same way. The workshop helps you to re-design museum spaces by picking 3 cards 1. an urban space or feature. 2. that senses or measures… 3. that makes you… Together they form a context for you invention.

“How might creativity be nurtured in learners, teachers as well as in our existing and future learning environments?” ('Teaching for Creativity', medium.com, Nov 9, 2918)

⬛️ CONCLUSION As the two projects unfolds, I strongly confirm my interests for a search towards creative teaching and learning through space and participation. I wish to help people comprehend their environment and the impact they can have on it. Such interactions will hopefully lead to a growing inclusiveness in the (re)creation of common surroundings.

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genesiagoudal-archive · 4 years

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🟣 WKM1: 12 hours of ephemera

Throughout the day, I recorded my thoughts on paper and scanned 12 sequences of objects around me, things I like, pieces from my mind palace.

I then designed a zine/book exploring the themes of: mind palace - objects - life - ephemera - protocol - diary - intimacy - common space - conflicts - death - archive - cloud

By confronting objects from my surroundings with digital analysis tools (AI), the narratives swing in between intimacy, randomness, data and categorisation of the mundane. Will the cloud (…as an online auto generated archive shelf ) become the new way of extracting, revealing the everyday life? or not.

⬛️ INSPIRATIONS

• Dieter Roth - ‘Flat Waste’ 1975 Quotidian cataloguing of arbitrary detritus. Stored in relevant binder and stock up into shelves.

• Petra Cortright - ‘Hell Tree’ 2005 Online artist book exploring rupture facades, revealing the bones of softwares.

• Cory Arcangel - ‘Data Diaries’ 2003 An autobiographical portrait and record of the artistic process. Methods of auto-generated computer graphics revealing hidden RAM files.

⬛️ LINK TO BOOK VIEWER

https://issuu.com/genesia.goudal/docs/weekly_make_01

vimeo

⬛️ DIARY ENTRIES

9:00

wake up in silence. check my phone, obviously. some cereals and tearing up to an adoption video. planning the day; looking through my sketchbook, what am I gonna do? reading about net art projects :/by rhizome their approach to graphic detritus, unseen data and interactive networks in public space. http://archive.rhizome.org/exhibition/artbase101/ how to auto generate computer graphics? google help me.

10:00 looking into google a.i. assistant to analyse and classify data in pictures. a new way of archiving? objects of vague and surprising dialogues, floating around… my feet are shaking, I am excited to see if this could work. … "en cours, importation des images" … just tried out the very simple a.p.i cloud vision by google. me, myblog profile picture, an answer.

11:00 making my bed; hope into the shower, one selfie before, one selfie after. dancing to the monkeys, hoovering my room actively, quickly get things done. energy is flowing. classified, everything is in place. ahh.

12:00 the smell of fresh food is sweet. eating with my sisters and mom, around some mashed carrot and roasted potatoes. wildflowers on the kitchen table. dealing with boyfriends struggles.

13:00 after lunch, there is time to do nothing. sitting in our velvety couch and building my Animal Crossing island a bit more. planting some flowers. enjoying the sun. exploring the garden.

14:00 froth and cappuccino. duvet to the hands. (…) a few flowers.

15:00 every afternoon, time flies by. detritus, ephemeras, proofs of life. birds are singing. how can this images fit together? what questions or feelings do they produce?

16:00 diving into collections of artists' books :/https://edcat.net the work feels true, raw; its intimate but exposed, ready to be seen. starting to design a little book of data.

17:00 hop on indoor bicycle and run 8.8 km. new record!! my heart is racing but I feel more at ease everyday. still 3 weeks to complete. 21. now sitting comfortably in this 2000s ikea swinging chair. wind. sigh. the best moment of the day. finished a yoga training to restore muscles and breath. "bring your attention back to your body" she said. while fountain water is flowing, the sun sets down.

18:00 the day slowly, rapidly ends. listening to acoustic songs and putting lotion over my face. soup is in the making.

19:00 my dad came back from work, talking about the day while having some goat cheese. my stomach hurts but I continue. after dinner, having some leftover easter chocolate. playing with 'gantou', our rabbit. cute and gentle.

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