#YOU HEARD THAT CANVAS DAVID
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
200percent-timothy-jd · 8 months ago
Note
Rontimothy canon in Tumblr lore?
Yeah.
7 notes · View notes
definitelynothim-notalex · 2 months ago
Text
Anywaysss
---
Everyone’s just standing there, kinda awkward, like:
Marko:“Uh... where’d David go?”
Paul:“He was right here a sec ago...”
Dwayne:“I swear I heard some weird noises.”
Star:“Some very suspicious noises.”
Then bam, they stroll back like nothing happened, but:
* David’s neck is literally a mosaic of dark hickeys and sloppy kiss marks, some clearly freshly smeared.
* His jawline and cheeks are covered in little lipstick-shaped smudges that look like a chaotic lipstick massacre.
* His hair’s a little mussed, like someone got a little too enthusiastic.
* He’s trying *so hard* to play it cool, but there’s a slow grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
* His eyes flicker between sheepish and smug.
Marko: “Dude, what the hell happened?”
David (deadpan): “She... uh... got a little carried away.”
Paul (laughing): “Carried away? Bruh, that’s a whole crime scene.”
Dwayne (teasing):“Looks like she made you her canvas.”
Star (mock serious):“I’m gonna need the full report. For science.”
David just shrugs, *half-trying* to cover the marks with his collar, but failing miserably.
David (muttering): “She said I was ‘too serious’ and needed to lighten up...”
The boys just share a knowing look like, Yep, that’s our David alright.
112 notes · View notes
rebelliousstories · 1 year ago
Text
Coming Home
Relationship: Luke Alvez x Reader
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Request: No
Warnings: Angst, Descriptions of Violence, Fluff
Word Count: 2,945
Main Masterlist: Here
Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here
Part Two of: That’s My Wife
Summary: It’s a race against the clock in order to get inside and find out where Luke’s wife has gone.
Tumblr media
Previously…
“You are just gorgeous. Don’t know how that man ever landed you.” As he grew closer, Theodore raised his gun with his finger on the trigger, and fired.
Bang
~
Leonard grabbed his brother’s arm and raised it towards the sky just in time for the bullet to graze her shoulder. He wrangled the gun out of Theodore’s hand. “The hell are you doing man? We need her alive!”
“Maybe you need her alive, but I’m perfectly content in seeing how well agent Alvez copes with the loss of his little wife.” The man tried to make another pass at her, but was stopped once again by his brother.
“We kill her, and we have no chance of getting out of here alive. I mean, we’re already going to have a hard time with you killing that guy, and for someone calling the cops on us before we ever started.” Leonard leveled with his brother.
“The hell you talking about, Leo?” Theodore scoffed.
“The agent on the phone, Rossi, he said that this was the first time we’ve ever been caught. That could only mean that someone tipped them off before we ever got started here.” The two brothers were chest to chest, and toe to toe. They had forgotten about the hostages and the reason they were there.
“Ted didn’t canvas the place properly.” Wulfric suddenly piped up. Both brothers turned to the man who spoke.
“What did you say?” Theodore turned, a dangerous growl in his tone.
“You didn’t canvas properly,” came his reiteration. “You were suppose to take care of this job, because we thought we could trust you to do it right.”
Wulfric stood and left the room to go find Samson, leaving the other two alone.
~
“Okay, thanks to Garcia, we have blue prints of the building. There is the main entrance and exit here at the front,” Matt pointed, “but there is one side entrance. It’s a wonder they haven’t even tried to use it yet.”
“What is their endgame?” JJ asked, looking down at the blueprints. Everyone stopped for a second as they processed the woman being there.
“What are you doing here?” Rossi inquired, with his brows arching.
“Heard you guys needed a little extra help so I postponed my vacation by one more day. Will is staying with the boys.” She smiled as she was refocusing on the case.
“Garcia brought me up to speed, but I’m still confused as to how and why they got caught now.” The rest of the team was with her there.
“There was something about the way Leonard reacted when I mentioned that. It was like he was just now realizing that they were stuck.” Rossi mentioned. Spencer held up a hand.
“That could be because he wasn’t thinking about that possibility. He could think they’re too good to be caught.” However, David shook his head.
“No. Get Garcia on. I think I know what went wrong.”
~
Luke paced back and forth throughout the room with his arms tucked in. He had not said a word. Emily had stuck him in the mobile command center while the rest of his team was working the case outside. While the air conditioning felt amazing, Alvez was losing his mind thinking about his wife that was stuck in the building. With a slam of a door, Prentiss stepped inside and closed it behind her.
“Have there been any threats made against you recently?” Her tone left no room for nonsense.
“No. Emily, what’s going on? Where is my wife?” Luke pressed, already on edge.
“Luke, answer my question. Have there been any threats made against you or your wife recently?” Once more, she asked. Alvez scrubbed his hands over his face before placing his hands on his hips.
“No. Nothing.” He admitted. His voice was defeated.
“What about anyone watching you?”
“No.”
“Okay,” Prentiss sighed, “what about the trial? You had to go and testify as the arresting agent. Did one of the twins make any threats against you?”
Luke had to pause. It had been so long ago, in time and cases he has worked, that he had pushed it to the back of his mind. Scrubbing his face for what seemed like the hundredth time, he tried to think about the trial. Nothing was coming to his mind the longer he thought about it. Luke pieced together the events of today and tried to search his memory when he finally found it.
“At the trial, when the verdict was read after my testimony, Theodore was screaming at me. He blamed me for them being caught and sentenced. He called my wife by name, and said that he would make me regret it. I didn’t pay it any mind at the time.” The look of revelation on Luke’s face told Emily everything she needed to know.
“Let’s go.” They walked outside and found the rest of the team to clue them in. However, before they could, Prentiss’ phone rang out.
“What have you got Penelope?” She asked, standing around with her team.
“Ma’am, it’s her. They just- they’re, oh god.” Garcia whimpered as whatever she was looking at was happening.
“What’s going on, Garcia? What’s happening to my wife?” Luke demanded, resisting the urge to yank the phone out of his unit chief’s hand.
“Theodore just hit her over the head. They’re taking her somewhere in the bank but I can’t find it.” The woman’s voice was weak as she tried to articulate what was going on.
“That’s it.” Alvez growled. He tried to make for the building, but was held back by Matt and Spencer. It was like they were corralling a wild bull with how much the man was thrashing around.
“Let me go! I need to go in there!” He screamed, but there was no moving the two men holding him back.
“Alvez!” Emily yelled over his protests. Turning around, the agent was panting with rage.
“I said I wouldn’t take you off. Don’t make me do it.” She promised, watching as the man walked off. Prentiss nodded to JJ to go look after him, before she turned back to the team.
“Garcia, you still there? What’s going on inside?” Recentering the rest of the team, Prentiss assumed her role as team leader.
“Yes, I’m still here. I’m trying to gain access to the CCTV cameras outside the bank to see if there is something that I can find.” Furious typing was heard over the line, when David piped up.
“Garcia, is there a camera over the side door of the bank? We know that there is one but we’re wondering why they haven’t used it yet.”
“Um, yeah. Oh, oh no,” she began, “um, so I see Wulfric and Samson transporting something out to a car but they keep going inside. Why would they do that?” Penelope asked confused.
“Because they are wanting Theodore and Leonard to take the fall for the job.” Spencer stated, feeling dread fill his stomach.
~
Groups of people sat around the bank as Leonard kept his gun on them. Meanwhile, Theodore was busy beating on Alvez’s wife. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh caused even Leonard to flinch. He turned and saw the woman fall to the floor with bruises already forming on her face.
“Alright, give it a break man.” Leonard pulled his brother off of the woman. She curled in on herself while Theodore panted with a smile on his face.
“Where the hell are Wolf and Shark?” The man looked around as he waited. His brother looked as well, but stopped after a moment.
“They probably found a way for us to get out.” Theodore commented, turning his attention back to the woman on the ground who was still curled in. The phone rang again. This time Theodore answered.
“Hello?”
“Theodore,” David answered, “how are you doing?”
“I’m feeling fine. Can’t say the same for Mrs. Alvez. How is Mr. Alvez by the way?” He teased, keeping his eyes on the woman on the floor.
“For your safety, he is not coming in there. Say, do you know where Samson and Wulfric are?” David asked.
“They’re finding us a way out.” Theodore commented as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“Oh, they’re finding a way out alright. I just don’t think you’re a part of their plan.”
“You’re wrong.” He hung up the phone, and walked over to his brother.
~
David sighed as the phone hung up yet again, and turned towards Emily. The two senior members of the team had a silent conversation with just their eyes.
“How do you want to play this?” He asked, hands resting on the table beneath the phone box. Prentiss thought for a moment.
“Let’s get Samson and Wulfric the next time they come out. Reid, you and Simmons take care of that. Dave, Tara, we need to find a way to get inside.” With their assignments, everyone took off.
The two men went around the side of the building and saw that the twins had just disappeared back into the building. Waiting for the right time, their firearms were drawn as they assumed their positions. Reid stationed himself behind Matt, who was right in front of the door. It was only a few minutes before the door opened again. Samson and Wulfric stopped dead in their tracks as they saw what was waiting for them.
“Hey boys.” Matt teased, motioning for them to drop to the floor. Samson noticed the other agent behind him, and dropped. His brother followed suit, and the two were swiftly arrested and placed in a car to be taken downtown. After that, the agents made their way back to the rest of the team, and hoped that there was an update. Luke and JJ had joined them again which was a good sign.
“Are the Mitchell’s taken care of?” Emily asked, receiving nods of conformation in return.
“Went down without a fight.” Matt commented, focusing on how to get the rest of the people out.
“So, Theodore is seemingly calling the shots. We need to find a way to get Leonard to get out so we can take his brother down. He’s the main threat to her right now.” The unit chief explained.
“Let me try something.” Luke finally spoke up. Everyone looked towards the man, whose voice was rough with emotion.
~
“Where the hell are those two?” Theodore growled as his brother looked around the back of the bank.
“I don’t know. They aren’t here.” Leonard stated. The phone rang again. He stalked over to it and wasted no time in answering.
“What did you do?” He screamed, waiting for Rossi to answer him.
“Hello, Leo. Looking for someone?” It was Luke instead. Leonard stopped as he processed the voice.
“Luke Alvez,” Theodore turned to face his brother in shock. “What can I do for you, mister agent?”
“How about a sign of good faith? Let some of the hostages go.” Luke’s request made Leonard laugh.
“What kind of husband- what kind of man are you? You don’t want to speak to your little wife?” The man leered, confused by the agent’s words.
“I can see that she is okay right now. If you let the hostages go, I’ll come in myself and we can talk.” Leonard held his brother’s eyes while on the phone. He heard the call mute, and then click back on.
“No firearm, no vest. Once you’re in, we’ll let the hostages go.” He hung up the phone, and felt a surge of adrenaline power through him.
“Looks like we’re getting our reunion after all.”
~
“Luke, you can’t go in there. We’re not giving them another hostage.” Rossi shut down the notion as Luke was removing his gun and vest.
“If it means getting those innocent people out and away from danger, I’m doing it.” He set down the effects and jogged to the door before his team could stop him. Shouts of his teammates disappeared when he opened up the door and went inside the bank. Once he was in, he could see the carnage. The body of the man from earlier was dragged off to the side at some point, and people were grouped together. Men, women, and children were separated in different parts of the lobby. With hands up, Luke walked further into the building.
“Agent Alvez, how nice of you to join us.” Theodore greeted him, pointing his own pistol towards the agent. He held eye contact before a whimper tore them away. Looking down, Luke saw his wife; beaten, bruised, bloody, and broken. The man noticed his attention had drifted.
“Oh she’ll be fine. Maybe.” He teased, treating it like a big game. Refocusing, Luke found Leonard next to him.
“The hostages need to go. I came in on your terms, now they need to go on mine.” Alvez reasoned as Leonard patted him down. Once he was cleared, he started going to get the groups to their feet and moving them to the front door. Luke kept his eyes on his wife while he heard footsteps leave the building. Knowing that his team had them taken care of made Luke feel better about focusing his attention on what was happening inside.
“Oh I have waited so long for this.” Theodore growled, hauling Luke’s wife to her feet by her hair. The sound made Luke lurch forward to help her, but Leonard grabbed the agent tightly to prevent him from reaching the other two people.
“Now,” Theodore came closer with the woman in tow, ”what to do with you two?”
“Neither one of you care about Samson or Wulfric?” Luke choked out. The arm around his throat relented just a little bit.
“What did you do to them?” Leonard inquired, but Luke just chuckled.
“They’re half way back into the system by now. We caught them about to sneak out a side door without you, and with the money.” The brothers looked at each other, and looked at the agent inquisitively.
“You’re lying.” Theodore breathed out, yanking to woman closer in retaliation.
“No,” Luke rasped, “my team found out who you all are, how you met. I already knew your M.O. so it was just a matter of figuring out that the other two were using your hatred to do bigger and bigger jobs. And just like we took them in, you’ll be going back in.” He struggled against his captor for a moment before relaxing. They would be getting out of this.
“Not going back to jail. Ain’t gonna happen.” Theodore said, shaking his head. From behind him there was movement that Luke caught, only because he was looking for it.
“See unlike you, I know when to take the low road and drop.” Luke’s eyes were on his wife, but he was not sure if she could see with all of her hair in the way.
“You? Low road?” Theodore laughed, ”you won’t take the low road, mister FBI agent. You’re too much of a goody two shoes for that to happen.”
“Let’s put that theory to the test.” Without warning, Luke dropped to his knees and threw Leonard over his shoulder to slam him into the ground.
“FBI! Let the woman go and show us your hands!” JJ yelled, walking in with Emily and Matt next to her. Leonard was busy being wrangled by Luke who was tossed Emily’s cuffs in the scuffle. Once he was apprehended, Theodore was much more willing to give up as his brother kept begging him not to shoot his way out. The Jameson twins were taken outside by Simmons and JJ, while Emily stayed behind to over see her other agent.
As soon as the danger had passed, Luke ran over to his wife and pulled her into his arms. They were both crying and whimpering as they finally got to hold each other after the whole ordeal. Alvez holding Alvez; he kept pressing kisses into her head, before moving her hair out of her face to assess the damage.
“Mi vida. Oh, you’re here.” He whispered, looking at the bruises on her face.
“Hey sugar. Didn’t mean to spend so long at the bank. Kinda got held up with lines.” She rasped, prompting a watery chuckle from Luke.
“Only you would joke like that at a time like this. We gotta get you to an ambulance, corazón.” Standing, Luke gently helped his wife up, careful not to put pressure on any injuries. Emily had already radioed in for an ambulance, and she went to help. However, he was not ready to let go of his wife quite yet. Luke wrapped her arms around his neck and hoisted her into his arms bridal style, and carried her out to meet the EMTs. Before they could leave, Prentiss pulled agent Alvez to the side real quick.
“What you did was reckless, stupid, and you put in danger one of my agents.” She scolded, noticing how there was no trace of apology on his face.
“You did well Luke. Take care of her.” Dismissing her agent, Luke happily climbed in the back of the ambulance and held his wife’s hand the entire way to the hospital.
“How are you feeling, amor?” Luke asked in a hushed tone while he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.
“Your memory feels like home to me. So whenever my mind wanders, it always finds its way back to you.” ~ Ranata Suzuki
“Better now that you’re here.” She replied, happily hugging her husband to her until the paramedics made them separate so they could do their jobs.
106 notes · View notes
hedgiwithapen · 9 months ago
Note
DHD prompt: First and/or Second David in the roleswap AU where Maggie's on Team Leverage and Nate's oblivious and still with IYS?
 It’s a decent forgery, Maggie has to admit. Not good enough to fool her, but damn close. And even knowing how much she hates him, Blackpool won’t doubt her word.  Not over the Second David. She could hand him something from a high school ceramics class and it would take him a moment to realize, and the statute that Sophie and Hardison put together over the last weekend is far better than that. She’s so close. She can taste revenge in her smiling mouth, like the vodka Sophie took from her the night they met.  Ian will take the bait and look the fool.  It won’t bring back Sam. She got into this game too late for that. Her ex would have said this was justice, but it’s not, and she knows the difference. “Sophie,” she says into the coms. “Come on. I need you to close the deal.” “I’m a little busy,” Sophie’s  regular accent returnes, the Italian she’d worn for the evening melting away. “There’s someone here who, uh. Recognized me.” Well. Shit. Maggie knows who that has to be. There’s only one person here who’d see through Sophie’s guise, and it’s the same person who’s the only threat to the game she and the crew are running. Hell, he’d know all of them, if not by face by some other means. She’s fairly certain that Nate never actually caught up with Parker or Eliot, but Sophie and Hardison…. Maggie takes a sip of her drink, and thinks. Nate won’t be distracted for long, and while the Vatican angle isn’t strictly required for the con to work, Sophie being spotted on the same night the prodigal art examiner returns will draw suspicion they can’t afford. “I’ll let you think over my price,” she tells Ian, handing him her empty glass like he’s no better than the bussers, and slips into the minglers.   It’s a risk. She left. And Nate was never-- he loved her, she knew that. But he wasn’t all hers. He loved the hunt too much. Not enough that he’d stray, but she opened the barn door and bolted, the day she’d woken up in an empty apartment and a text on her phone saying he’d had to fly to Madrid on work. Their son was cold in the ground and he’d left because the man who’d put him there had asked. What if he didn’t look twice? What if he did and then away?
“Maggie?” he asks, his voice and hand snaking out to touch her, and as she’d hoped, turning away from Sophie. “Is that--you… you look…” he trails off.
“Nate,” she says, quietly. “You look… busy.” Has he always looked that tired?  Have his eyes always been that hard? Maybe she is simply looking at him the way Sophie’s taught her to evaluate a mark. The way she looks for falsehoods in a brushstroke. Everything about him rings sad, but trying.
“I am. Uh. There was a case with a stolen Manet last week. We could have-- I could have used you.”
“I’m sure you managed,” she says, glancing around the party. “Or you’d hardly be celebrating.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he asks, hard. “No one’s heard from you since…”
Maggie files that away. She’d have thought James would have said something. That he hasn’t is worrying. “I don’t have time for this,” she says, brushing him off, the reverse of Eliot pulling in the would be movie star. Unapproachable is easy enough, when she doesn’t want attention. She’s not sure she doesn’t, is the only thing.
“Maggie, wait,” he says, grabbing her hand and looking at her, the way Ian looked at the photo of the statue. The way Parker stares at deadbolts in bank vaults. “What did I do wrong?”
“I think he’s forgotten Sophie,” Hardison says in her ear, helpful, helpful. “So you can scoot. Blackpool’s by the shrimp.”
Maggie fights her own feet. She can’t tell him the truth. He’s always been so black and white, right down to the canvas.  She can’t pour out the can of grey paint and thinner she’s carting around in her heart without destroying the man she used to love. She can’t pull away, either.
“It wasn’t you,” she says, though that’s never going to be the full truth. “Let me go, Nate. please.”
His hand drops as if she’d struck him. “Maggie…”
“I’m sorry, Nate,” she says. “Don’t look for me.”
She knows he will. She’ll just have to have a better lie, for the next time.
32 notes · View notes
gayleviticus · 3 months ago
Note
What drew you to classical theism?
the david bentley hart book 'The Experience of God: Being, Consciousness, Bliss' put a lot of it into perspective for me in a way that made sense.
i would say i always held to the tenets of classical theism bc they are just historic christian orthodoxy but maybe was a bit loose particularly with impassability, which i thought kind of undermined the biblical depiction of God and the crucifixion etc. but the book explained it in a way that if God can truly suffer (not analogously) then it means in some way suffering has some kind of eternal foothold in God and is not a finite evil - and i think it enhances the crucifixion more by emphasising that God chose to take this on in his humanity.
aside from that though, i think DBH's explanation of how classical theistic God is not at all an entity among entities like gods, but perfection itself/the ground of being made a lot of sense of something I'd thought implicitly or even heard articulated in a fancy way but never intellectually grasped.
And what's significant about that to me is that I think it kind of makes the concept of God both even more awe-inspiring and transcendetal, but also intimately connected to every aspect of creation. There is no such thing as a goodness or beauty that is not ultimately derived from God. enjoying grapes or a flower or even minecraft can all shed some light on the ultimate goodness that is God.
around the same time i read the book God of Surprises, which is about Ignatian spirituality and how it orbits around this idea that our deepest desires can lead us to God; in that our longing for good, true, and beautiful things can fuel a deeper longing for God, and in turn help us discern when we are desiring something that leads us away from God.
So it all just felt very cohesive. I felt like creation as a means of God's revelation made sense for the first time; I'd often thought of it in some very antiquated allegorical way, like medieval bestiary saying the number of legs on a horse symbolise gluttony or whatever, whereas really it's just that the world is God's canvas for sharing with us his goodness in bite-sized ways we can understand that leave us wanting more.
Additionally, it makes sense of God as relevant to everyone. Evangelicalism I think, bc of its divorce from Christian tradition and literal biblicism, wants everyone to know about God but often ends up feeling to me like God is just some random guy. Like, evangelicals evangelise by convincing you that some random guy you've never heard of before is the key to ultimate happiness.
whereas i guess a more robust theology of classical theism emphasises that God is always present and around us. Everyone has experienced goodness and love in their lives, and that goodness and love is always from God. So God is for everyone the ultimate culmination of everything good; not just a Mary Sue powerful entity among entities who we arbitrarily should know because he created the universe.
And additionally, I often noticed in evangelicalism (and I'm sure this is an issue for catholics and orthodox, but I can only speak to evangelicalism) a kind of creation-negative perspective where created goods are in competition with God. and of course, this can definitely be the case; that's what idols are.
But I feel like people end up spending a lot of time guilting themselves and agonising over, idk, playing video games or watching movies that they actually give these things power. Whereas if you recognise that there is no created thing that can hold any goodness that is not ultimately derived from God, I think it's easier to put things in perspective and value created things as God's gifts to us without guilting yourself into denigrating them.
15 notes · View notes
mydogatemymotivation · 3 months ago
Text
There’s a sound on TikTok. It’s a girl, alone, standing in her small kitchen making dinner. She’s harmonizing with the hum of her microwave. A small moment, a little glimpse into a stranger’s life. For a moment, we all feel like we’re sitting across from her, watching a friend make dinner for two. It sounds like nostalgia. Breathes new life into old memories, good and bad, all melancholic. Everyone who listens to it relates to the distant, echoing noise. Everyone has a sad memory to contemplate while it plays. This small moment touched everyone who heard it. Taking us all back to the neighborhoods we grew up in, the friends we used to have.
This is modern art.
No, really. Abstract. Bizarre. Performance art. We all feel like the moment was spontaneous. But she set her phone up, pressed record, then hurried to play the role she assigned herself. But does it matter? Does it matter if we all connected to it? Isn’t it the connection that matters? Isn’t that what makes it art? Short form art. Easy to make, easy to digest. Does it matter?
You tell me.
I’m painting on a canvas. A painting within a painting. In my scene, there is a girl standing next to an art installation hanging on a museum wall. The art on the wall is a girl in her kitchen, harmonizing with her microwave. The painted girl next to the installation is standing, smirking, smug, pointing at the lonely girl on the wall. The name of my piece? “Standing next to art I think I could make”.
Because we can all stand in our kitchens and hum.
Humanity isn’t listening to itself. We’re not listening to each other. Can we all invent a new shade of blue? No. But we can all paint a blue square, so why listen to Yves Klein? Rothko invited us to converse with him, but we can all paint squares, so what does he actually have to say? A banana duct taped to a wall? Seriously? Well, if you bothered to listen, you’d know that the work was called Comedian. And that you’re supposed to laugh. And what’s funnier is that the banana must be exactly 1.6 meters off the ground to be an official Comedian. But people don’t laugh the way they laugh with comedians. They laugh the way they laugh with bullies. Mean spirited, sarcastic, angry. Not listening.
Everyone’s insular. Isolated. Mean spirited. Sarcastic. Angry. No one’s listening. The artist must be elitist, otherwise art would make sense. It must be meaningless drivel. Because I don’t understand it.
Because I think I could make that. Couldn’t I?
So what makes you so special?
Art is meant to connect. The artist is reaching out but a paint splattered hand is slapped away. Conversation is a two-way street.
Animation is ripped off with money-laundering schemes that make a mockery of what once was. The original artists are slapped away. But at least it gives you something to do with the kids this weekend.
I’m standing in my kitchen, harmonizing with the microwave. “What are you doing?” my guest asks. I tell them. I’m humming. And I’m cooking. They roll their eyes. “Well, look what I have,” they pull out their phone. “It generates humming, so you don’t have to do it. And I can make it sound like anyone.” They’re giddy. “Michael Jackson? David Bowie? Prince?” Freddie Mercury is humming in my kitchen, a tinny and metallic ghost. It doesn’t even sound like him. Decades of effort, artistry, training. Scalped. Plagiarized. Repackaged. Now no one’s talking. Conversation is an empty street.
“But I could do that.”
10 notes · View notes
dre6ming · 2 years ago
Text
Playing for keeps
Chapter I
Masterlist
Pairing: Austin Butler x Y/n
Plot: Austin is the next in line for the throne, but he can’t be king if he doesn’t have a wife. In your country tradition says that a selection formed of 35 young women must be formed for the prince to find a wife. You are obligated by circumstances to participate against your will. What are the chances that you might be the next queen? None right? Right?
Warning: none
Word count: ~4000
Tumblr media
"To heal the soul by the means of the senses and the senses by the means of the soul" or something like that, is what Oscar Wilde said to make me really understand why something so simple as feeling the bristles of my brush stroke the rough surface of the canvas. My lines look a little jagged today, my hand keeps shaking and no matter how many deep breaths I take, the rock sitting on my chest hasn't gotten any lighter.
Thirty five, what a strange and odd number, why so many? Why not more or less? Did they have a mathematician who centuries ago did the math for them and concluded that thirty five was the lucky number to find a wife out? I take a deep breath as the word "wife" bounces off of the walls of my skull. It's not just a wife, it's the future queen.
It's been a little more than 30 years since the last selection, when queen Lori was selected out of the bunch by King David and now the result of their successful selection, their son, prince Austin, is about to have his very own selection. All of the girls in the kingdom between the ages 18-22 were asked to submit an entry into the competition, to hopefully end up being the princess of the kingdom and the future queen.
Emphasis on the word "asked" , we were not obligated to do it, at least not by our government, our parents however? Well the forced me to apply, dragged me down to the office where the applications were collected and made me sign up.
"Y/n it's time, come come sit!!" My mom shouts for me and I put down the paint brush, wiping my hands on a rag, brushing back some hair as I make my way to the very small, very crowded living room. My mom , dad and all my 5 siblings are spread around the tv, watching it like hawks. "Come sit!" Mom pats the spot next to her on the couch and I squeeze between her and my older sister.
I can't help but feel angry at the whole situation, my parents live in a poorer side of the country and the fact that they had 7 kids did not help, I'm right in the middle, being the 4th to be born, my older siblings, are married off to their own households where the also pop baby after baby, that is except for one of my eldest siblings, my sister Hannah, who's the reason why mom put me into the selection in the first place.
To back track a bit and explain, my parents met and got married when they were 20 years old, my brother Josh came a year later, he's now 26 married and expecting child number three, his income already stretched thin. Then came Anna, she's 24 she married in a more stable family, but with baby number two, turning into babies number 2 , 3 and 4, yes that's triplets that she's having, money is low. Mark, 22 now, not married, he's actually, well we don't know, he ran away with a girl from around here, we haven't heard anything in years and since we barely have time to live our own lives and win enough for a living, we've put him aside. My sister Hannah, 22 as well, she's Marks twin, she's supposed to marry, but the guy she chose is from a family of twelve and they have little to no money.
Then there's me, Y/n, 20 being auctioned away in the hopes that the weekly allowance my family will get for my participation would be enough for my sister's wedding and some other things for my youngest siblings. After me my parents had kids 2 more times, Kyle 14 and then the other set of twins, this time identical Tana and Lane, 10 years old.
My mom works as a nurse and my dad is a retired guard from our region. Money is low so we all have to work, but with 2 siblings out of the house and one waiting to marry, we lost working hands. I sell paintings on commission and I also work at the local bakery to try and make some extra money, but it's not enough to support me, mom and my younger siblings. Which is why I was forced by mom to join the selection, the family of the girl competing gets a weekly allowance for as long as she stays in the game, not to mention the chance of actually being queen.
As names are being drawn on tv I can feel everyone in the room tense as the 34th girl gets called out and it's not me, I had 34 chances and I lost them all, now I get one more, but I hope I'll lose again. I don't want to go, I don't want to meet the prince or be his wife, I'm not meant to be queen, I'm just not.
My breath gets caught in my chest as the host, Lucas, puts his hand back in the bowl of names. My ears are ringing as he read the name and I almost faint seeing my picture there. "You got it, hon, good job!" Mom says and all of my present siblings start to chant my name, happy for me. I can barely hear them though, so I get up with tears in my eyes, brushing everyone off, walking out, out of the room, out of the house.
My bare feet, touch the sharp gravel, but I can't give into the pain, all I know is I need to run, run for now, or at least until tomorrow when the people from the palace will be at my door to package me up and send me to their prince. Staring out into the midnight sky, I could see everything I had being ripped apart, I didn't have much, but I had enough. Dropping to the ground and letting the cold grass soak my thin cotton dress, I close my eyes, scared to death about the outcome of what I had just gotten myself into.
The next time I open my eyes, two guards from the royal guard stand in my door and my mom hands me a bag I didn't pack, pushing me out the door. I take one last look back at the people I'm leaving behind and I tell myself I have to at least make it a few weeks, so that my sister could use the money for her wedding, then I'd come back and move to a richer part of the country, where I wouldn't be able to ever see my family. Those are the rules, after you get into the game, when you live you have a higher status and income so they move you and you can no longer interact with your past the way you used to.
Watching my step getting out of the car that took me from the airport to here, I take in the palace, with it's high towers and beautiful architecture. People are outside, forming a pathway for us to walk as they chant different names of other girls who also got selected. I am so out my element here, the dress my mom picked for me was too tight and itchy, the high heel shoes hurt my feet and my hands were sweating too much. "Here it goes!" I say under my breath stepping forward and into the unknown building. The inside even more beautiful than I could describe, high ceilings with crystal chandeliers, gold accents and mahogany furniture, underneath my heels white marble floors.
"Ladies! Welcome, I am Silvia and I'll be you're etiquette advisor and teacher, I'll also be your voice here, anything you need, you ask me and I'll make it happen if it within my powers. You will now be less to yours rooms where you will meet your maids, they will help you with hair, make up and clothes and anything else you might need. Dinner will be served in your rooms tonight and breakfast is at 7 am tomorrow, after breakfast you will each get to talk with the prince and get to know him. I've left some pages on your beds with instructions about tomorrow as well as the schedule of our classes. Good evening going forward!" The tall blonde woman left our sight walking gracefully in her long gown. I wonder if I'll ever be like her? Back so straight, shoulders so strong, hair so put together, make up so natural yet so beautiful, voice so clear, everything about her spoke volumes on everything I was not. I don't know how they expect me to last a day here.
In my room, I stand and wonder how can a place for one person be the size of my home which currently houses 7, now that two of my siblings had moved out. "Lady Y/n!" Two petite women curtesy in front of me, they look like sisters, about the same age as me, but one of them looks a bit older. "Just Y/n" I lick my lips fiddling with my fingers. The older one nods, smiling. "A-and you are?" They seem confused by my question. "Your maids lady!" The other one explains in a sweet voice.
"Yes no, I know, I meant, your names, what are your names?" I ask again hoping I'm not making them uncomfortable. "I'm Jules and she's my older sister Jane, we're very happy and honored to meet you, lady Y/n" I nod, smiling as well, as they start pacing around the room fixing things up. My eyes watch them move, mesmerized by how synchronized they are. "Can you stand and turn around lady Y/n? We have the water running in the tub, so you can take a bath."
I stand and turn so that Jules could undo my dress, then sliding my arms through the silk robe. "Just Y/n please!" I ask again, all these official things making me uncomfortable. "Lady Y/n, if I may-" I open my mouth to correct Jane, but she puts her hand up stopping me. "You are now a lady, his majesty will refer to you as such and you have to keep to these titles, at least until you get to know him better." I nod at her kind advice and follow her into the bathroom, where she helps me step into the tub, taking my robe away and checking the water temperature one last time. "Well relax lady Y/n, when you're ready, call for us and we will get you ready for bed."
Before she leaves me to my own, I dare to ask her one more thing. "Jane, is he nice?" I ask, this being the first time I actually my curiosity about the prince, spiked ever since I was selected. Jane gives me a soft smile, fixing the creases on her apron. "That's for you to decide lady Y/n, but his majesty, prince Austin has always been well liked by the staff." She leaves before I get to asks anything more and I take that as her polite way of saying that's how much she's allowed to say.
The bed here is so much softer than the one at home, the one I uncomfortably share with my twin sisters. The sheets are so soft and silky, it feels like I could turn to fast and fly off the bed. Jules and Jane left shortly after, brushing my hair back and helping me into my silk night gown. Even in this big room, air feels compressed and I want to walk, so I find myself putting on my slippers , taking a moment to look at them, I've never had slippers before. I the dark of the room I make out the location of the door and I turn the knob slowly, trying to make no sound.
I feel a cool breeze brushing my bare legs and I follow it thinking this could be the way to find a door leading outside. Only thing stopping me are the two guards standing in front of it. "Miss are you lost?" One of them asks, making me blush, finally so aware of the fact that I left my room wearing only my thin silky night gown. "N-no, I was wondering how to get to the garden." I say hoping my voice didn't sound too shaky. "No can do miss, you need to get back to your room." The guard tells me, his eyes staring straight ahead. "Please, I, I just need a moment." I beg, taking a step closer and that's when they both move their eyes to look at me, their mean stares making me shiver. "Not allowed, back to your room miss!" The other guard speaks.
Suddenly another set of steps are heard and the guards stand straighter. I don't dare to make a move and look at who it might be. "Your majesty!" They say in unison and the blood freezes in my veins. I've never heard him speak before, his voice sounds so clear, a bit raspy, but still sweet, like warm honey. "Lay her be!"
"Your majesty, we can't-" the guard protests. "I said let her be, open the doors!" They do as he says and I don't wait to walk out, the cold air hitting my warm skin leaving goosebumps. "Stay 5 minutes, then back to your room, if you won't go willingly they have my permission to drag you there." I stop and without turning around I say. "Thank you, your majesty!" My voice sounding like it's under water.
I didn't stay too long after I heard him walk away, running back to my room almost immediately after. Sleep came to me easily after that, but I still felt restless now as Jane brushed my hair into a braid. They put me into a floor length light green dress, with beautiful lace details all around the corset. I looked like a princess this morning when I looked at myself in the mirror and I couldn't believe it and then for just a moment too long I had questioned why I pushed this competition away so vehemently. That last thought however got send back to the depth of my mind and I was now patiently waiting for my turn with the prince, tormented by the wonder of whether he would recognize me from last night or not. 
At last my turn comes and I get up from my seat, fixing my dress as I walk with my head down toward the table where he awaits for me. Sitting down, I still keep my eyes on the ground scared to look at him, feeling my heart thudding against my corset concealed chest. "Y/n? Right? Pleased to meat you, I do hope you're feeling better." His voice comes out first, breaking the silence and making me finally look at him. I had seen him on tv, but the screen did him no justice, the blue in his eyes is so electric, the gold in his hair, is so endearing, my fingers itched with the wish to have a feel at it, his pink lips look so soft and warm. Everything about him is inviting and the way he seats in his chair, leaned back with his legs crossed, his chin in his hand, makes him look so young and careless, which he is, being only 22 and a prince. 
"Yes, your majesty, I'm quite well, thank you!" I blush deeply, my hands clutching the material of my dress in a stupid attempt to calm my nerves. Austin's eyes move to my hands and back to my face, a concerned look painting on his god like face. "Are you all right? Lady Y/n?" He asks, changing his position in the chair, leaning towards me. "If you're not feeling well, I can have for the doctor to come and see you later Lady Y/n." He says in a whisper. The word doctor makes me immediately let go of my dress and smooth down the creases, breathing deeply. "I am fine your majesty, it's all nerves." 
Austin hums and I expect him to go back to his previous sitting position, but he doesn't, he actually leans a bit closer if that were possible. I can now smell his woodsy cologne and a warm fuzzy feeling takes over my body. "You don't need to be nervous, I'm just a boy, just as you are just a girl-".
"But you're not" I find myself rudely interrupting him. "You're going to be king some day and 35 women were randomly chosen to come here and allow you to peruse them. 35 is a strangely small number compared to all the women out there that could be potentially way better for you than any of us."
"Then why come here? Why put your name in the ballot in the first place?" He asks and I can't read if he's been offended by what I said or not. "Your majesty, I apologize!" I look away from him and I can't help but notice that the other girls are all watching us, just like I had watched the previous ones when they were up here. I can only imagine they are analyzing if he likes me better or not. 
"Don't apologize, keep talking, I feel you have a point." Austin urges me and I bite my tongue. "Lady Y/n, my situation is unique, but I have no choice, it does not matter if the love of my life is someone outside these walls, I am not allowed to meet them. So please keep talking!" I feel sad for him, it's clear he's thought the same thing as me, what if his one true love is not one of us, but he's obligated to choose one of us either way. 
"My favorite book, "Withering highlights" the protagonists were not allowed to love each other but they did and the impossibility of being together killed them, had they not ever met, they would've been able to love someone else and live. I think what I said is quite wrong your majesty, maybe neither of us will be the love of your life, but with time you might find someone among us, that you could learn to love and survive." 
Austin opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn't get the chance, since it's announced that our time is up and I must go in order for the next girl to come. I get up breathless and do a very bad curtesy. 
The rest of the day I can't help but feel like I'm sitting on egg shells, I knew I had let my stupid mouth speak before I gave to much thought, but something about him made me feel like I could speak my heart. Jane brushes my hair, as Jules arranges things around the room,  taking the pillows off the bed and putting in place the last things for me to go to bed. 
A knock on my door makes Jane jump as she brushes my hair and Jules goes to open the door. "Your majesty!" I hear Jules say and so I turn to see him, in all his glory, wearing the same dark brown suit from breakfast, only he's discarded the jacket and the tie, a few of the buttons from his shirt being undone and revealing some of his chest, the sleeves are rolled up and this look suits him much better than the previous. Realizing I was just sitting and staring, I quickly get up and curtesy. "Your majesty!" 
"How would you like a stroll out in the gardens, Lady Y/n?" Austin's voice is calm and my ears are ringing, so I barely make out what he's saying, but I nod. "Yes, um Jules, my robe please!" I say, remembering I'm just wearing my night gown, which was very inappropriate. "Lady Y/n!" Austin extends his hand and I walk the few steps over to him, putting my significantly smaller arm around his. 
He takes the lead and walks us out of my room and to the gardens. My thoughts are racing, I'm not stupid I know he could have every advantage right now to try and make an inappropriate move onto me, but he doesn't seem like that kind of guy, but how does that kind of guy look anyway. 
"You're awfully quiet." He says as we walk through the dimly lit gardens. "I was waiting on you your majesty." He stops and turns to look at me. "Why so?" Austin asks blinking. I simply shrug my shoulders. 
He sighs and licks his lips, walking further into the gardens without another word. The whole situation is rather spooky and I can't help the anxiety building up inside me. Soon we get to a table, decorated with candles and flowers, steaming cups of tea resting on it. "I thought we might enjoy some hot tea, it's a bit chilly out." He pulls my chair out for me and I sit down hesitant. 
"Tell me more about you, your favorite book is "Withering highlights", what else do you like?" It takes me a moment to realize that he is being serious I can't stop the giggle that comes out. Confusion is once again shown on his face, but this time is accompanied by something else, the corner of his mouth slightly pointing up, he's amused too. "You really want to know?" 
"Well I must find a wife somehow." The breath gets knocked out of me by his statement, for a split second I had forgotten why I was here, to play in the game of selection. 
"I like to bake and knit, I make clothes for my siblings all the time, but by far my favorite thing is painting, there's something so strange about being able to use my own hands to capture a moment I time li you would a picture." He looks at me as I talk and something in his demeanor tells me he's actually interested. 
"Picture, I, well I don't paint, but I do enjoy photography." He admits, his eyes glimmering with excitement. "Really? And what do you find best to photograph? Objects, humans or nature?" I ask, Austin blushing slightly. "All, I can't say I'm that good, I don't have enough time to dedicate to the hobby, but I enjoy it." 
"I don't believe that you must show me one day, any kind of art is good art. I don't have any of my paintings here, but perhaps if I got the supplies I could paint you something!" I propose, trading the experience of showing off our works of art. "Perhaps one day." Austin says absentmindedly, clearing his throat before getting up. "It's late, I should escort you back to your room!" He says hastily. 
I don't bring up how neither of us even touched the tea or what a short time had passed since we got here, the tea still steaming in the cups. Something about him has changed, he's much colder, stiffer if you may. No more words are exchanged between us, except the good night he rapidly wishes me, before walking away.
I'm left confused and with another feeling stuck in my heart, because for a moment there I actually let myself go and I got happy? Maybe, I don't know. 
Sleep came to me very difficult and when I woke up this morning I had a headache, I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. As Jules is complaining that I had tangled my hair so bad in my sleep another knock is heard and my heart stopped. Is this hope I'm feeling? Hope that is Austin? 
"Lady Y/n, a package for you!" Jane announces. 
I get up taking the note from her hand, looking at the huge box that bigger than her. I open the small envelope and the first thing I notice is the very clean and neat handwriting. 
 <Lady Y/n,
I hope you will forgive me for leaving so hastily as I did last night, but I figured that our encounter wasn't quiet up to etiquette and in fear of damaging you or me, I thought it better continue some other time. Please forgive me and accept this gift, I hope you'll have a painting to show me soon enough
A.B>
Tags: @galaxygirl453
@rainydayz101
@samaraannhan20
@marlowmode
@myradiaz
@areuirish
@micaelainthe60s
@homebodybirkin2003
@pennyroyalcreep
@purejasmine
@strokesofstokes
@lanasfloridakiloss
@denised916
@kibumslatina
@macey234
@melodixs-blog
@shantellescrivener
@chewiethecatus
@guacala
@fangirl125reader
@father-of-2cats
@lucid315
@ashtag6887
@ilovehobi101
@richardslady121
@jensmithin
@julie181
@chrisevansgirl34
@ranaissingle
@onecrazydirectioner
@maria-1287
@austinbutlerssimp
@kingdomforapony
@acoolnight
@tarot-sybarite
@goldenmarygio
@frozenhuntress67
@anonyboo63478338
@littlewhiterose
@thefallofthedamned
@1eminicookie
@rose-deathman
@iheqrtaustin
@desitravelsblog
@prompted-wordsmith
@austinsvlrslut
@crystallizedth0t
@hertvgirl
@peanutbutterinacup
@austinswhitewolf
@saniyahgordon
@thatgirlthatreadswattpad
@slowsweetlove
@jaqueline19997
@formulapierre
103 notes · View notes
nichtsehen · 2 months ago
Text
@inwire | Wait in the car
Baby was a thing of beauty. Constant, eternal, and unchanging, down to the selection of music that graced her speakers. So it may have been with some alarm that Dean heard a foreign tune playing loud and proud from his beloved vehicle.
A pair of canvas shoes lounged crossed at the ankle through the passenger window. Bern was sunk in the passenger seat, where they absolutely were not permitted to sit, but hey. They were told to wait in the car. There was really no arguing that their flannel and hair couldn't pass for FBI, and they didn't have a cheap suit to pretend with anyway.
"Yeah I lay down a while, and look at my hotel wall,"
Not exactly a pop star, but the tones of David Bowie were matched well enough, with hand gestures to match. It was the picture of fuck it, nobody's here to care.
"And he's down on the street, so I throw both his bags down the hall -- and I'm phoning a cab, cause my stomach feels small! There's a taste in my mouth -- and it's no taste at all! It could have been m-"
A heavy slam of two hands on the open driver's side window caused a violent flurry as both legs reeled into the car and they lunged to snap off the music.
"... I'd like to begin my twelve-step apology. By saying that you are a beautiful man, and I thought you'd take longer-" The pull of the door handle had them ejecting the foreign cassette tape with haste and shoving it back in the case to stuff into a pocket of their jeans. "And I'll work on the other parts later."
3 notes · View notes
holystormfire · 1 year ago
Text
John 7:40-52
Nicodemus challenged his fellow pharisees.
Tumblr media
Nicodemus Visiting Jesus,
Painting by Henry Ossawa Tanner (1859-1957),
Painted in 1899,
Oil on canvas
© Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts
Gospel Reading
Several people who had been listening to Jesus said, ‘Surely he must be the prophet’, and some said, ‘He is the Christ’, but others said, ‘Would the Christ be from Galilee? Does not scripture say that the Christ must be descended from David and come from the town of Bethlehem?’ So the people could not agree about him. Some would have liked to arrest him, but no one actually laid hands on him.
The police went back to the chief priests and Pharisees who said to them, ‘Why haven’t you brought him?’ The police replied, ‘There has never been anybody who has spoken like him.’ ‘So’ the Pharisees answered ‘you have been led astray as well? Have any of the authorities believed in him? Any of the Pharisees? This rabble knows nothing about the Law – they are damned.’ One of them, Nicodemus – the same man who had come to Jesus earlier – said to them, ‘But surely the Law does not allow us to pass judgement on a man without giving him a hearing and discovering what he is about?’ To this they answered, ‘Are you a Galilean too? Go into the matter, and see for yourself: prophets do not come out of Galilee.’
Reflection on the painting
In today's Gospel reading, we encounter Nicodemus, marking his second of three appearances in the Gospel of John. Initially introduced as a curious seeker who approaches Jesus under the cover of night, Nicodemus is portrayed as intrigued by Jesus yet hesitant to fully embrace his teachings. His journey of faith is subtly woven through John's narrative, culminating in his participation alongside Joseph of Arimathea in ensuring Jesus receives a respectful (indeed, lavish) burial. This progression illustrates Nicodemus's gradual movement towards a deeper understanding and commitment to Jesus. Our reading today is the second (and middle) appearance of Nicodemus. Despite being a Pharisee, he displays remarkable bravery by questioning the outright dismissal of Jesus by his peers, who criticize Jesus based on his origin in Galilee, a region they regard as insignificant compared to the religious hub of Jerusalem. Nicodemus advocates for fairness and due process, arguing that Jesus should not be judged without first being heard. This stance places him at odds with the prevailing opinions of his colleagues, and his challenge is met with scorn, evidenced by their sarcastic comment "Are you from Galilee too?"
Nicodemus's growing relationship with Jesus left him increasingly isolated in the world where he had been so much at home. He actually reminds us that as we grow in our relationship with Jesus, there is often a price to be paid. We may find ourselves a lone voice among our peers. At such times, we know that the Lord is always with us.
Henry Ossawa Tanner painted our canvas in 1899, depicting the first of the three mentions of Nicodemus in John's Gospel (John 3:1-21). The painting was Tanner's entry to the 1899 Paris Salon. We see Nicodemus talking privately to Christ in the evening, a good example of Tanner's nocturnal light paintings. The painting was purchased there for the Wilstadt Collection, Philadelphia, and is now in the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. The narrative of Nicodemus' meeting with Jesus held significant meaning for Henry Ossawa Tanner's father, Benjamin Tucker Tanner. He was a Bishop in the African Methodist Episcopal Church and had aspirations for his son to join him in the ministry. While Henry's decision to pursue a career as an artist fell short of his father's dream, his talent for painting ultimately produced works that his father could admire and support.
Article by Father Patrick van der Vorst
23 notes · View notes
earth-64 · 7 months ago
Text
My Journey in Understanding Comics - Intermission "V"
This was written as my inaugural Letterboxd review. It got a bit out of hand so I have decided to present it here as well. - While Part 3 of my writing on my personal journey into reading comic books continues to bake in my brain (a fancy way of saying I am still brainstorming its final format) (a fancy way of saying I have not yet started writing it) as the list of included comics grows, I wanted to stop for a moment and write about one in particular for selfish reasons.
 
On November 5th, 2024 I began reading V For Vendetta, written by Alan Moore and illustrated by David Lloyd. This was on the whim of having read Alex Jaffe’s recommendation on the DC Blog and the vague understanding that this was the important date to read it on. This is the part where I reiterate that as a teenager my dad had given me a copy of Watchmen, then question why he only gave me that and never other Alan Moore books even after I expressed a love for Watchmen, leading in asking why, especially with him showing me Fight Club not long after, he would a few years later become fearful of my leftist radicalization. Instead of briefly ruminating on the chudification of anything with leftist morals, of red pills and project mayhems and Fawkes masks, an aside consisting mainly of “I’m too scared to know too much about the other side to properly critique them.”, I have decided to first write whatever this is: a paragraph about not writing things. I fall easy prey to the gimmick of writing something about itself when I lack the time to write something lengthy or god-willing something good. Only at my laziest, when I so badly want to splash paint onto a canvas and call it art to try and feel the relief granted by having created something again, do I create a piece of writing about what itself isn’t. 
So instead I will write about my day, and hope you can make something more of it than I can.
I began November 5th, 2024 expecting the worst. I was scheduled for a 7 hour shift. This is not the place I will go into detail about the way my brain comprehends the passage of time, except saying that this is beyond the limit that my short-term memory can comprehend as Now. By the end of a 7 hour day it feels like my entire existence has been that day. 
Before work I was hoping to start playing Planet Coaster 2, a theme park simulator I had pre-ordered. Unfortunately I was a day off on its release, it came out today, November 6th. Instead I played Dead Estate, which I really had to think about right now to remember. Before leaving for work at Noon I remembered that November 5th was the day of that one rhyme that I was vaguely aware was tied to V for Vendetta, a comic I heard was good but knew nothing about. I started reading the first issue before heading out.
At this time the vibe on social media was one of trepidatious optimism. Panic had not yet set in, but doom was creeping at the edges of every post. Those that engaged in the stage-show were sharing graphs: maps and analytics, populace represented by numbers and figures. Those that hide were still standing in the open, sharing their strategies for their planned retreats: assuring each other that there were games to play, films to watch. Smoke them if you got them. I would have headed their advice if not for my usual required time to temporarily become a machine again. 
I found myself behind the kiosk of the grocery store Starbucks counter, tightening my apron, as my manager was already whispering to my co-worker, pointing at her phone, pointing at a map that showed the city of Seattle in bright blue and the rest of the state a deep red. It was not by my choice that I would not be among those hiding through today. 
I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of running a Starbucks kiosk. I use “running” because I am usually alone, I was on that particular day for the final 3 hours at least. It is a ceaseless stress: there is always something to get done, someone to attend to, or something to worry about. They keep adding more responsibilities, berating me for doing a wrong thing I have done a hundred times without being berated before, and introducing further uncertainties and unwinnable scenarios. It is a job where they try their hardest to make life unlivable and I try to scrape together every ounce of relief from stress. Like all jobs.
The only interaction that mattered enough to mention here was one from a regular. An older man who was before this simply another vertice from which stress radiated: a notification that arrived at the counter and asked for me to recall the piece of information that is his usual order, to which my brain would offer me no help. A Diner Dash icon asking to be clicked. He complimented my lipstick.
I’ve been carrying around the same lipstick for a couple years now. It was a gift. I have been told it is too bright, too red for me. It makes me stand out, to stand out of place. The phrase “pig with lipstick” stands out despite its meaning not fitting here, more just the visceral imagery that it brings forth. I know I am overcompensating. Everyone who looks at me does. The lipstick tube is doubled-sided: one side the too-bright red, the other a layer of glitter, meant to be added on-top to dull the red. I have told myself the glitter side is meant for special outings, I wear the red at work to make my machine-self look feminine, I would wear the glitter on top to feel beautiful on days I am not a machine. The red is nearly worn down to nothing, I have not touched the side with the glitter. 
“You look good.”
“I am trying. It’s a process.”
“I know. It’s good you are trying.
Are you on estrogen?”
 “Yeah.”
"That will help. You'll notice."
I did not tell him I’ve been on it already for half a decade.
I finished the first issue of V for Vendetta on my lunch break. I saw that I had missed the slow creep of doom take hold of the zeitgeist. The world had turned dark outside while I was busy not existing.
The store grew more busy. There were whispers by customers, talk of coming violence no matter the outcome. The sun set earlier than it had any right, and I found myself on one last bathroom break, seeing the first footage of the protests beginning not too far outside the building. As I clocked out and made my way down the street I could see photos of the very same street, a few blocks further down, of arrests being made. A car drove down the street with its bumper scraping against the ground, it sounded like a car crash in a constant state of occurrence. The screaming car and I kept almost perfect sync the entire length of my walk down the street.. It screamed over someone playing a saxophone on the corner of the closed-down Rite-Aid. It screamed over the guy playing folk music on his guitar next to the walk-up burger place. It kept screaming, down the street, towards the protests where people like me where being shoved to the ground by police. I did not follow it. I walked home and it was in complete silence that I stood on the street corner and watched the Sheriff’s new $6,000,000 helicopter flying over the city. 
I watched John Wick with my girlfriend and I knew there was still screaming out there.
This morning I woke up and read four more issues of V for Vendetta. I played Planet Coaster 2 for just long enough to feel like I was wasting my time. I read four more issues of V for Vendetta. 
I walked up the hill, I passed the grocery store I was regularly a machine at and saw they had their metal shutters locked down over the windows. One of my managers was on a smoke break outside and I almost said something but didn’t. I sat at a nearby restaurant and ate a burger and finished the last issue of V for Vendetta.
I’m home now, typing this while being mostly silent in a discord call with my friends. I don’t know if I’m hiding or surviving. I know this is not as good a thing as I wanted to write. I don’t know if I will ever let anyone else read this, or why they would want to, or what they would gain from it. I just know that as much as I feel like a fraud who copies the style of others, I know that I do not have the gift of memory possessed by the current writer I would be accused of copying if I let any of my friends read this. Maybe I’m just borrowing his style in hope I borrow the ability to remember all these details. 
“Maybe they’ll give meaning to a plot one day.” is the god-awful sentence I typed next. 
=====
It is now November 30th. 
On November 12th I finally watched the film adaptation of "V for Vendetta". I watched it in a hurry, trying to squeeze it in before an important appointment I had before lunch. I had bought a DVD version a couple days prior but opted to watch it digitally instead, I feared the screech of my CRT. 
I had been pleasantly surprised when I found the DVD on the shelf. It had somehow gotten into my head, perhaps the color palette or the concept of a dark comic character, that this was a Zach Snyder film. My brain lit up when I saw the Wachowskis listed instead. I could not think of better people to adapt this comic. I've found that many of the things my Dad did not enjoy or did not opt to show me have been because they do not line up with his personal beliefs. Naturally I've loved all of those so far.
Sadly, "V for Vendetta" did not live up to the vision of the film that spontaneously popped into my head upon reading the word Wachowski. This film pulls almost every punch. It waters down characters and motivations: it removes themes of drug use and sexual abuse, it takes away the agency of every supporting character, it keeps the film away from any of the story's original historical context. Re-ordering scenes for the sake of movie pacing is necessary but it does so with wild abandon. It is the big slop Hollywood loves.
This is a film by people who's extremely personal queer project had blown up to massive proportions. The public wanted Matrix sequels and franchising of the standard Hollywood variety and the Wachowskis did not waver in their vision. The people with money knew that The Matrix could have been the next Star Wars and the Wachowskis did not allow it to be. They were under pressure to create something mainstream again, and they were still deep in the closet. 
So what did they do?
They made this film 15 minutes long.
"V for Vendetta", as directed by the Wachowskis, is the sequence consisting of Evey's imprisonment, torture, and release. It is untouched as it is from the comic. It is a shortfilm of raw queer emotion. It is an echo that reverberates from the 80s British Thatcherism it was birthed in by Alan Moore, to the 2000s Bush-era the Wachowskis fought to mass-broadcast it in, to November 5th 2024 as Trump was re-elected and I was quivering in the toilet stall at work, without losing an iota of resonance.
It lays there, between the watered down adaptation, between the storybeats with their sharp edges sanded, between the kind of flavorless dystopian fiction they feed us to make us feel like we're being naughty when we're not and the big explosions that do nothing but set off primal dopamine responses, between the removal of the stories' main theme of individual action (replaced with the common group uprising plot you'd see in The Hunger Games or Star Wars that is usually a type of Imperialism masquerading as Anarchy) and an honest to god bullet-time sequence that no doubt some exec said HAD to be in a movie with Wachowski in the credits. 
Two hours of runtime exist to fool the Hollywood execs. Fifteen minutes belong to us. 
I thought of none of these things the day I watched the film on November 12th. I watched it, I shut off my monitor, and I went to tour an apartment I will soon be moving into with my girlfriend. We are alive and we will soon be together.
6 notes · View notes
gurugirl · 1 year ago
Text
New Patreon One Shot Up!
“It’s incredible isn’t it?”
You turned toward the man who seemed to almost appear from nowhere. You’d been so lost in the Jacqques-Louis David painting that you didn’t realize anyone was there until you heard his voice.
“It really is,” you looked back at the canvas, “Feels so significant to be standing here and seeing this in person.” “I agree. I keep coming back to this one. Sort of drawn to it.”
You nodded, looking up at the tall man who already had his gaze on you. It was then you noticed the color of his eyes. A starlit green encircled by a deeper green limbal ring, with dark lashes to highlight just how pretty his eyes were. But then you watched his pillowy pink lips stretch into a smile with dimples winking awake in his cheeks. He was gorgeous. Quite possibly the most attractive man you’d ever seen.
When he cleared his throat, you realized you had been staring and you both began to laugh at the same time.
“Sorry.”
You both said in unison which brought more laughter from you both.
“Why are you sorry?” He asked.
“Oh, because I was going to respond but then I just stared at you like a weirdo,” you puffed out a laugh.
“Really?” The man pulled his brows together in confusion, “I thought I was the one that was staring at you.”
. . .
Don't want Patreon on your credit card statement or your bank won't process a Patreon charge? message me @gurugirlsideb for an alternative option for access to my exclusive masterlist.
6 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
24th December >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Homilies / Reflections on Luke 1:26-38 for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Cycle B: ‘Let what you have said be done to me’.
Fourth Sunday of Advent, Cycle B
Gospel (Except USA) Luke 1:26-38 'I am the handmaid of the Lord'.
The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and said to her, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you.’ She was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God’s favour. Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.’ Mary said to the angel, ‘But how can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’ the angel answered ‘and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and will be called Son of God. Know this too: your kinswoman Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son, and she whom people called barren is now in her sixth month, for nothing is impossible to God.’ ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord,’ said Mary ‘let what you have said be done to me.’ And the angel left her.
Gospel (USA) Luke 1:26–38 Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son.
The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.
“Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.
Homilies (6)
(i) Fourth Sunday of Advent, Cycle B
This year the fourth Sunday of Advent coincides with Christmas Eve. The Season of Advent has been shorter than usual, three weeks rather than the usual four. The fourth candle on our Advent wreath will only be lighting for one day. On this eve of Christmas Day some of us may feel that we could do with a little more time to prepare for Christmas. John the Baptist has been the main character in the gospel readings for the last two Sundays. Today, the last Sunday of Advent, the focus is on Mary, the mother of Jesus. If John the Baptist prepares us for the coming of Jesus, Mary actually brings Jesus to us.
The gospel reading we have just heard has often been depicted by artists down the centuries, whether on canvas or in glass. It is as if artists recognize the great significance of this scene. God had a loving purpose for the world but if that purpose was to come to pass it needed the consent of a young woman in her teens, named Mary, from a small village in the region of Galilee in Northern Israel. A great deal depended on the consent of this young woman to what God was asking of her. God wanted her to be the mother of his Son, Jesus, through whom God could work for the present wellbeing and final salvation of all humanity. The son to whom Mary gives birth would have such an intimate relationship with God that he could be called ‘Son of the Most High’, ‘Son of God’. Because of the unique identity of Mary’s son, Gabriel declares to Mary that he would be conceived in a unique way, through the power of the Holy Spirit. This was a great deal for a young woman to comprehend and consent to. It is not surprising that the gospel reading says she was ‘deeply disturbed’ and was asking, ‘How can this come about?’ God was drawing very close to Mary and it left her with many questions.
The question of Mary in today’s gospel reading ‘How can this come about?’ is a very human one. It is the kind of question that is asked by others in the gospels. When Jesus was with his disciples in the wilderness in the presence of a hungry crowd, they asked him, ‘How can one feed these people with bread here in the desert?’ When we stand before a situation which seems beyond our resources to deal with, we can all find ourselves asking the same kind of question, ‘How can this be?’ ‘How will I deal with this?’ The angel Gabriel’s answer to Mary’s question invited her to trust not in herself but in God. ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you’. A lot was being asked of Mary and it would make great demands on her, but she was not being asked to take on the task of being mother to God’s Son in the strength of her own resources alone. It was in the power of the Spirit that she would give birth to Jesus and nurture him.
Our own question, ‘How can this be?’ ‘How will I get through this?’ can, as in the case of Mary, open us up to the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In today’s second reading, Saint Paul gives glory to God ‘who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News’. When we feel vulnerable and a little helpless, as Mary must have, the Lord can give us his strength in our weakness. The power of the Most High can overshadow us, empowering us to keep fighting the good fight. At those moments when we feel burdened, we can invite God to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves, to take us to places we cannot reach on our own. In the first reading, David had to learn that what he wanted to do for God was much less important than what God wanted to do and could do for him. David wanted to build a beautiful Temple for God. However, speaking through the prophet Nathan, God said, ‘The Lord will make you a house’, not a physical building, but a lineage, a dynasty, that would eventually give rise to Jesus, a descendant of David. God can always do far more for us than we can imagine, if we allow him to.
The gospel reading goes on to declare that, in response to Gabriel’s reassurance, Mary consented to what God was asking of her, ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord, let what you have said be done to me’. She gave herself over to God’s purpose for her life, even though she didn’t fully understand it. She surrendered in faith and trust to God. Because of her act of trusting faith, we all received God’s gift of Jesus. Mary’s trusting faith was a source of blessing for us all. She shows us that our own trusting faith in the Lord, even in those times when we have more questions than answers, will always be a source of blessing for others. Because of our faith, God’s loving purpose will come to pass not just for our own lives but for the lives of others as well.
And/Or
(ii) Fourth Sunday of Advent, B
If you were to ask a married couple how they came to fall in love, or if you asked two good friends how they came to be friends, they may have difficulty answering your question. They might say something like, ‘It just happened’. In one sense that may be true. In another sense it didn’t just happen. If two people are in a significant relationship with each other, be it marriage or friendship, it is because they have chosen each other.
Why does someone choose one person rather than another as a future spouse or friend? Having made that choice of the other, why might the other then reciprocate? Why does someone choose to share something of his or her life with someone else, and vice versa? There we are into the mystery of human freedom, human preference. The more significant relationships in life cannot be forced. Favour is freely bestowed by one person on another; that other person freely receives what is bestowed and freely reciprocates, and a new relationship is born. There is an element of mystery about all that.
If there is a mysterious quality to the relationship of one human being with another, that is even truer of the relationship between God and ourselves. Why did God choose Mary to be the mother of his Son? Why this particular woman in this particular small village at this particular time of human history? We are dealing here with the mysterious freedom and preference of God. Yet, there is a difference between God’s choice of Mary and the choice any one of us might make of another. When any one of us chooses another to love or to befriend, there is always, of necessity, an exclusive element to that choice. We choose this person rather than any number of others. Although we choose several people in the course of our lives in each case our choice of one excludes others.  
God’s choice of Mary was not exclusive in that sense. When God chose Mary, he was choosing all of us. He chose Mary for all our sakes. God chose her to carry God’s Son on behalf of us all, because her future child was God’s gift to us all. That is why how Mary responded to God’s choice of her was not just a matter that concerned herself. It concerned us all. We all had a vested interest in how she responded. Her response would also be our response. In a sense we looked to her to make an appropriate response on behalf of us all to God’s choice of us.
The good news is that Mary did not let us down. Although initially disturbed and then perplexed by God’s choice of her, she eventually surrendered fully to that mysterious choice of God. Having been graced in this mysterious way, she responded wholeheartedly, ‘Let it be to me according to your word’. God freely chose her, and she in turn chose to place her freedom at God’s service. God’s choice of Mary, and Mary’s choice of God in response had the most wonderful consequences for all of us. She went on to sing, ‘the Almighty has done great things for me’. But, in reality, because of her response to God’s choice, we can all sing, ‘the Almighty has done great things for us’. We have all been graced through Mary’s response to God’s choice of her.
If Mary’s response to God’s choice of her, God’s call, had enormous implications for us all, the same is true, to a lesser extent, of the personal response of each of us to God. How each of us responds or fails to respond to God’s choice of us always has implications for others. In that sense, my relationship with God is never purely private. It always has a communal dimension. It always impacts on others in one way or another. If I respond generously to what God is asking of me, my response will bear rich fruit for others. If I turn away from God’s call, others will somehow be impoverished. We are a pilgrim people journeying together towards the Lord. We are either helping or hindering each other on that journey.
In the second reading, Paul speaks about ‘the way the eternal God wants things to be’. If, like Mary, I live in tune with the way the eternal God wants things to be, others will be helped to live as God wants them to live. My ‘yes’ to God’s choice, God’s call, is never mine alone, no more than Mary’s was. It always has implications for others. God worked powerfully and creatively through Mary’s generous response. God continues to work powerfully and creatively through each of us, when we respond to his call and his promptings. Mary gave birth to God’s Son for others. As we approach the feast of Christmas we ask Mary to help each of us in our own way to give birth to God’s Son for others.
And/Or
(iii) Fourth Sunday of Advent
The four candles of the Advent wreath are now lighting. All that remains is the white candle at the centre of the wreath, which will be lit on Christmas day. We are moving ever closer to the feast of Christmas. John the Baptist, the forerunner of Jesus, has been the main character in the gospel readings for the last two Sundays; next Sunday, Christmas day, the focus will be Jesus himself. Today, the last Sunday of Advent, the focus is on Mary, the mother of Jesus. If John the Baptist points ahead to Jesus, Mary actually brings Jesus to us.
In today’s gospel reading, she is presented as saying ‘yes’ to a call from God, the call to be the mother of God’s Son. Her saying ‘yes’ did not come easily or immediately. The gospel reading states that initially, she was ‘disturbed’ by this call, and that she then went on to question it, ‘How can this be?’ Eventually, she surrendered to what God wanted of her with the words, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’. She stands in a long line of biblical women who faithfully served the purposes of God. Her readiness to serve God’s purposes had enormous implications for us all. Because of her generous response to God’s call, God’s Son became flesh, like us in all things but sin, and we were given the opportunity to become his followers, to take him as our way, our truth and our life.
This young woman from the insignificant village of Nazareth had enormous influence for good on all our lives because of her generous response to God’s presence. In many respects, her influence for good was unique among women and men. Yet, we can often underestimate the extent of our own influence for good when we too, like Mary, make ourselves available to serve God’s purposes. Our own ‘yes’ to what God may be asking of us will always benefit others. God worked powerfully through Mary’s responsiveness to the call she received. God can work powerfully through our own efforts to do whatever God may be asking of us. If I am living in a way that corresponds to God’s desire for my life, those with whom I am in contact will be built up by my presence and they will be supported in their own efforts to live as God is calling them to live. The opposite is also true. Our own failure to respond to the Lord’s promptings in our lives undermines others and makes their efforts to do God’s will all the more difficult. We are all interconnected. We live very interdependent lives, whether we are aware of that or not. That is especially true when it comes to our relationship with God. Putting it simply, our living well somehow enables others to live well also.
Responding to God’s call, serving God’s purposes, living as God is asking us to live, does not always come easy to us. There will often be an element of struggle involved. We often have to struggle to discover what God may be asking of us, and then we may find ourselves struggling further to do what God appears to be asking of us. The gospel reading this morning suggests that Mary’s ‘yes’ to God’s call came after a period of struggle. There was initial anxiety when she discivered what God was asking of her. There were questions to be asked. In our first reading we find David engaged in a similar, although different, struggle. It took David some time to discover what God was asking of him. Initially, he had his own ideas as to what God would have wanted. David had decided that he was going to build a magnificent house for God to dwell in, a temple. It seemed like a good idea, and the prophet Nathan supported David’s plan. Nathan told him to do all that was in his mind. However, it became clear that what was in David’s mind was not what was in God’s mind. God did not want David to build a temple. Through the prophet Nathan, the Lord said to David: ‘The Lord will make you a house’. David learned that what he wanted was not what God wanted. We are all prone to making the same mistake David made. We can confuse our plans and purposes with God’s plans and purposes. We can confuse what we want with what the Lord wants. As believers, we always have to be asking ourselves, ‘Is this really what God is asking of me?’ St. Paul in today’s second reading makes reference to ‘the way the eternal God wants things to be’. Mary was someone who understood the way the eternal God wanted things to be, and who responded fully to what God wanted.
When it comes to the task of discovering the way that God wants things to be and to the further task of living and acting in accordance with that, we are not left to our own devices. The second reading this morning begins with Paul’s great exclamation, ‘Glory to God who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News I preach’. The Lord works with us to help us to live lives that correspond to his purposes for ourselves and for others. Christmas is now very close, only one week away. In the run up to Christmas, we might ask the Lord to help us to discern what he may be asking of us over the Christmas period and to give us the strength to do what he may be asking of us. If our living of Christmas corresponds to God’s purpose for our lives, it will be a happier and a more blessed Christmas for those whose lives we influence.
And/Or
(iv) Fourth Sunday of Advent
Christmas is only a few days away now. Most of us are busy getting ready for Christmas. There are last minute presents to be bough, food to be prepared. Preparations are afoot for visitors. We will probably all be travelling over the next few days, visiting family and friends and being visited by them. Some of us will be travelling to our Christmas dinner. There is a lot of coming and going these days.
In these busy days, the gospel reading for this fourth Sunday of Advent presents us with a scene which is anything but busy. It is much more of a contemplative scene. It is a quiet, mysterious, and, yet, hugely momentous scene. The evangelist Luke attempts to capture in narrative form the moment in Mary’s life when she consented to what God was asking of her, when she said ‘yes’ to God’s call. Those very personal moments in our lives when we have a strong sense of God’s presence to us, of God touching our lives in a very powerful way, are difficult to talk about or to write about it. However, Luke attempts to capture the momentous exchange between God and Mary in that small house in Nazareth of Galilee. As Luke describes it, Mary’s initial response to God’s approach was one of great unease. ‘She was deeply disturbed by these words’, even though the words, in themselves, were very reassuring, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you’. Yet, Mary’s reaction is a perfectly understandable one. God’s ways are not our ways. God’s thoughts are not our thoughts. Any deep experience of God will always be disturbing in some way. Any kind of meeting with God, with the Lord, can never be a completely comfortable experience. Yes, God is Love, but authentic Love will always stretch us in some way, and call us beyond where we are. It is because an experience of God will always be disturbing to some degree that we can find it difficult to pray. Yet, when God disturbs us, the root of that disturbance is love and the fruit of it is new life.
Luke captures a second movement in Mary’s heart in response to this approach of God. When God begins to make clear to her what he is asking of her, she begins to question. The angel said to her, ‘You are to conceive and bear a son… He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High’. Mary’s response to that news was, ‘How can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ According to Luke, this would not be the last time she would question what God was doing in her life. Luke tells us that at the time of the birth of Jesus, Mary treasured all the words of the shepherds and ‘pondered them in her heart’. At the time when she and Joseph found Jesus in the temple, Luke states that ‘they did not understand what he said to them’, and that his mother ‘treasured all these things in her heart’. From the first moment of God’s call to her, Mary had to live with many questions, not all of which would be answered during the lifetime of her Son. Luke’s portrait of Mary suggests that deep faith can find expression in profound religious questioning. Sometimes when people find themselves beginning to question their faith they think that they are loosing their faith. On the contrary, questioning our faith can lead to a deepening of our faith. Part of the journey of faith is learning to live with questions. What more disturbing question could there be than the question which, in Matthew’s and Mark’s gospel, is to be found on the lips of Jesus as he dies, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ As people of faith, we will often find ourselves asking the question Mary asked in today’s gospel reading, ‘How can this come about?’ ‘How can this be?’ The onset of serious illness in our own lives or in the life of a close family member can leave us asking this question. In the gospel reading Mary received an answer to her question. We will not always receive an answer to our questions; we may have to live with them for a long time. Jesus’ answer from the cross was answered by the resurrection. Some of our questions will only be fully answered when we share in the Lord’s risen life.
The third movement within Mary that Luke depicts is that of surrendering to what God wants of her, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’. This is perhaps the most difficult movement of all, for all of us. In the second reading, Paul refers to ‘the way the eternal God wants things to be’. Mary gave herself over to the way the eternal God wanted things to be. Mary did not choose herself to be mother of God’s Son, God choose her; this was not Mary’s way, it was God’s way, to which Mary said ‘yes’, with profound consequences for all of us. As Christians we spend our lives trying to discern how God wants things to be and, then, struggling to live accordingly. It is Mary’s Son who reveals to us how God wants things to be, and it is the Spirit of her Son, the Holy Spirit, who then gives us the power to live in accordance with how God wants things to be.
And/Or
(v) Fourth Sunday of Advent
It doesn’t happen very often that the fourth Sunday of Advent coincides with Christmas Eve. The Season of Advent has been shorter than usual. The waiting of Advent has been reduced to three weeks. On this eve of Christmas Day some of us may feel that we could do with a little more time to prepare for Christmas. We may feel that everything isn’t quite ready. Even apart from this year, with its short Advent, we often feel as we approach Christmas that everything isn’t quite right. Some of us may feel that everything isn’t quite right at a personal level or at the level of our family this Christmas. Christmas can have a way of magnifying the sense of everything not being quite right.
The same could be said of the scene that is placed before us in today’s gospel reading. The principal character in the scene is a young woman, perhaps only in her early teens, who lives in an unknown village in a province on the very edge of the Roman Empire. She is betrothed to a young man in her village, named Joseph. Betrothal was much more than our engagement. The couple had entered into a legally binding relationship, probably at the initiative of the two sets of parents. They were married in the eyes of the law, without actually living together as husband and wife, which would usually only happen after twelve months of being betrothed. Yet, it is revealed to Mary by God that during this time of betrothal she is to conceive and give birth to a son. This child would be her son, but would also be God’s Son. It is no surprise that Mary is portrayed as distressed and full of incomprehension. She was ‘deeply disturbed’ by the words of Gabriel. She asked her heavenly visitor, ‘How can this come about?’ There is a whiff of scandal about the whole scenario. What will people say when Mary’s child is born too soon, before herself and Joseph came to live together as husband and wife? The situation is somewhat messy for Mary and Joseph and their extended families. Nobody could have planned this scenario.
Yet, in the midst of this messy situation, God brought forth an extraordinary blessing, not just for Mary and Joseph, but for all of humanity. Mary’s child, who was conceived and born in what must have seemed suspect circumstances by the standards of the time, would be none other than the Son of God. The Holy Spirit was powerfully at work in what was, from a human perspective, a very unsatisfactory situation. Gabriel says to Mary, ‘the Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow’. God is about to take up residence in the most difficult of circumstances. As a result, although neighbours may look upon Mary with suspicious eyes, God’s messenger declares her to be highly favoured and invites her to rejoice. Perhaps there is a message here for all of us. When all does not seem well with us, when our lives seem to us and to others to be somewhat out of kilter, we can be tempted to think that the Lord has abandoned us. Yet, perhaps it is above all in those times that the Lord is most intimately with us. It is often in those moments when we view ourselves or others view us poorly that the Lord is seeking to assure us that we are, ‘highly favoured’ in the words of today’s gospel reading.
The angel Gabriel declared Mary to be ‘highly favoured’. She was highly favoured because God had chosen her. It wasn’t that God chose her because she was highly favoured. Nothing is said in the gospel reading about Mary’s virtue or otherwise. In the passage that precedes our gospel reading, the annunciation of the birth of John the Baptist to Elizabeth and Zechariah, it was said of this elderly couple that ‘both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord’. Nothing similar is said of Mary. She is simply a very young woman in a little village of a remote province of the Empire. Yet, God mysteriously chose her and so she was highly favoured. Through God’s choice of Mary, God has chosen each one of us, because Mary’s child was God’s gift to us all. Because God has chosen us through Mary, we are all highly favoured, regardless of how messy our lives may seem to us or to others.
In the gospel reading, Mary displays a great openness to receiving God’s loving choice of her. Even though she does not fully understand how she could be so highly favoured by God, she welcomes this grace of God’s favour. She, thereby, opened a space in her life for God’s mysterious but loving purposes to prevail. Perhaps this is where we have something to learn from Mary. We can learn from her to allow ourselves to be graced by the Lord who has chosen us in his love and who relates to us as highly favoured. In whatever personal circumstances we find ourselves, our response to God’s loving choice of us can find no better expression than Mary’s final response to Gabriel, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’.
And/Or
(vi) Fourth Sunday of Advent
We are only a few days now from Christmas Day. It will be a different Christmas this year to what we have been used to. Hopefully, it will be a time when we can connect with one another again after so many months of isolation for so many people.  Because we are still living in Covid times, it may be a less hectic and calmer Christmas than we usually have, and that may not be a bad thing. It may be an opportunity to focus more fully on what is at the heart of all our celebrations. Christmas says something very important about God’s relationship with us and our relationship with God, and that great truth is worth reflecting upon and really taking to heart at this time of the year. It finds expression in the readings for this fourth Sunday of Advent, in particular, the gospel reading.
Artists down the centuries have recognized the significance of what is going on in this gospel reading for our life of faith and that is why they have given such plentiful expression to this gospel scene in art form. In our own parish church, we have a beautiful stained glass depiction of the annunciation to Mary. It is worth going over to it this Sunday and taking in the scene in glass with its beautiful colours. The setting for our gospel reading is the humble home of a very young woman in a small village of Galilee called Nazareth, a village that is never once mentioned in the Jewish Scriptures. Many would have asked the question we find on the lips of Nathanael in the gospel of John, ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’ Yet, it was this woman, Mary, from this village, Nazareth, whom God chose to be the mother of his Son. Why this woman, in this place, at this time? We can’t answer that question. We can only marvel at God’s mysterious ways which often defy human expectations. In the second reading, Paul says that God ‘alone is wisdom’. God’s wisdom often seems like foolishness to humans. God’s ways are not our ways. As Paul says in another of his letters, ‘God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong’, and Mary would have been considered among the ‘weak’ of the world. We can all count ourselves among the ‘weak’, because we are all weak in one way or another. Yet, just as God visited Mary in her home, God comes to each of us wherever we find ourselves. Although God’s loving choice of Mary had a unique quality, because she alone was chosen to be the Mother of God’s Son, God comes to each one of us and chooses us to serve his purposes in the world.
God’s choice of Mary still required her to make her choice of God. In choosing her, God needed her free response. The gospel reading suggests that Mary’s response to God’s choice of her only came after something of a struggle. Initially, we are told Mary was ‘deeply disturbed’ by the angel’s greeting. When it became clear to her what God was asking of her, Mary was full of very legitimate questions, ‘How can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ If Mary was to conceive and bear a son before she had come to live with Joseph, her betrothed, what would the people of this small village think? Mary must have sensed that what God was asking of her would be costly for her. Yet, after God’s reassurance, ‘Do not be afraid’, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’, Mary freely assents to what God was asking of her, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’. She places herself at the service of God’s purpose, and, as a result, she opened a space for God’s Son to dwell within her, and she carried him within her until she was ready to give birth to him for us all.
The way Mary responds to God’s choice of her in that reading speaks to how we respond to God’s choice of us. Like Mary, we can often find God’s involvement in our lives somewhat disturbing, leaving us with many questions. We can hesitate before God’s choice of us, sensing that it might cost us too much. Yet, God is prepared to wait on our free response, as he waited on Mary’s response. God will also assure us, as he assured Mary, that the Holy Spirit will overshadow us if we respond to his choice of us. We won’t be left to our own human resources alone. If, like Mary, we can place our freedom at the service of God’s purpose for our lives, then we too will create a space for the Lord to dwell in our lives and, like her, we will bring the Lord to others. God chooses us so that his Son, the Lord, might be born in our lives, and, through us, in our world. God wants us to make a dwelling place in our lives for his Son, so that with Saint Paul we can each say, ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me’. This is our core baptismal calling. In the words of today’s second reading, it is ‘the way the eternal God wants things to be’. 
Fr. Martin Hogan.
5 notes · View notes
siempreminta · 3 months ago
Note
A brief bounce would reclose where she peaked out from as the wagon went forward. The sound of the wagon wheels going along stone ground was the only sounds heard inside the wagon aside from anything she made inside. After four hours the canvas changed color as if it grew brighter from the dull glow before. After a few minutes of the hault David's arm reached in and grabbed a bag he had put near the openings on the wagon. "You can come out in a minute Emily, we are no longer in hell."
Needless to say, she wasn't a fan of bouncing around in the wagon. Her wings acting like a second barrier from getting bruised.
This was bumper than she thought.
Her ears caught his words, giving him a thumbs up.
0 notes
independentartistbuzz · 5 months ago
Text
INDIE 5:0 - 5 Q'S WITH BROOKS JOHN MARTIN
Tumblr media
Brooks John Martin’s music has always been a canvas for raw emotion and cinematic storytelling, but with his latest self-titled album he has opened the door to his most intimate and honest work yet.
After years of performing under various monikers - from Toast to Frank Hansen - Martin has returned to his roots, revealing his true artistic self in a collection that blends noir-folk intricacy with symphonic grandeur.
With a sound that evokes the emotional depth of The National, the theatricality of David Bowie, and the atmospheric intensity of Radiohead, Brooks’s latest album is both a culmination of his musical journey and a bold new chapter. Recorded at his own Catamount Recording, it’s a heartfelt exploration of life’s imperfection, capturing moments of vulnerability with stunning clarity.
We got the chance to sit down with Brooks and explore his personal journey behind the album, the creative process that let to its rich soundscapes and what it means to embrace true artistic identity.
Tumblr media
"Clear Blue Waters" carries a deep sense of reflection and renewal. What was the initial spark for this song, and how did it evolve during the writing and recording process?
"Clear Blue Waters" was written on a cold winter’s night in Iowa. I was imagining the sun and surf in Malibu, one of my favorite places.
It is a song about longing and escape to the time and place of The Beach Boys. I had recently heard Cool Water by the Sons of the Pioneers and had all this imagery floating around in my head.
You have released music under different names over the years, but this album marks a return to your own name. What led you to that decision, and does it feel like a fresh start or a culmination of your journey so far?
I decided to use my real name on this album.  I used the nom de plume Frank Hansen on previous albums because I wanted to separate my professional business career from my music career but I am at a point in my life where It doesn't matter anymore.
I decided to use my middle name because i think it has a ring to it and it's kind of funny.  Like John Wilkes Booth or Donald John Trump. 
The video for "Clear Blue Waters" was filmed along the Pacific Coast Highway, a place now badly affected by the devastating wildfires. Given the song’s themes of change, does that real-world tragedy shift how you personally connect with the song?
Of course the fires on the Malibu coast moved me very deeply.
We filmed the video along the PCH and its unreal that the coastal properties are gone. I remember thinking at the time how dry it seemed in the hills. It felt like the old west.
I chalked it up to the drought. I never imagined a fire could devastate it so swiftly. I love it there, so in my mind I'll always be part resident.
Your music blends folk traditions with a larger, almost symphonic sound. Who were your biggest influences in shaping that balance?
My influence for "Clear Blue Waters" was an old song from the 40's called Cool Water by the Sons of the Pioneers and Brian Wilson in general.
I was trying to stack Harmonies to get a dreamy effect. That 60's bikini Malibu fantasy is alluring. Especially in January in the High Plains.
You’ve hinted that this album could be your final musical statement. Do you see this as closing a chapter, or is there still more you feel compelled to explore creatively?
It would be hard to top this album, and I don’t know how many albums I have left in me. This might be it.
Listen to Brook's latest single "Millions" here:
Watch the Official Music Video to "Clear Blue Waters" filmed on the Pacific Highway here:
youtube
Keep up to date with Brooks J. Martin on the Website
Stream music on Spotify and Apple Music
0 notes
jasonhackwith · 1 year ago
Text
New print available in the river Beautiful store: Lion of Judah, Lamb of God
I’ve always loved lions. And lambs. From the very first time I read the Chronicles of Narnia, I’ve dreamed of burying my hands into the friendly mane of Aslan. And I have held little lambs with their milky breath and softness. When I began this work, I wanted to capture the same expression in the lion and in the lamb. If you look closely, you will see that there are tears in the eyes of both. This is the God I have come to know, who weeps and cries and carries us when our little legs get tired; who embodies both the strong lion of Judah and the meek lamb of God.
This print is currently available in both a museum-quality poster and in a stretched canvas print, in multiple sizes to fit your décor and budget. It is my prayer that it always reminds you of Jesus.
"And I saw in the right hand of Him who sat on the throne a scroll written inside and on the back, sealed with seven seals. Then I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and to loose its seals?” And no one in heaven or on the earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll, or to look at it. So I wept much, because no one was found worthy to open and read the scroll, or to look at it. But one of the elders said to me, “Do not weep. Behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has prevailed to open the scroll and to loose its seven seals.” And I looked, and behold, in the midst of the throne and of the four living creatures, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as though it had been slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent out into all the earth. 7Then He came and took the scroll out of the right hand of Him who sat on the throne. Now when He had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each having a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. And they sang a new song, saying: “You are worthy to take the scroll, And to open its seals; For You were slain, And have redeemed us to God by Your blood Out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation, And have made us kings and priests to our God; And we shall reign on the earth.” Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels around the throne, the living creatures, and the elders; and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain To receive power and riches and wisdom, And strength and honor and glory and blessing!” And every creature which is in heaven and on the earth and under the earth and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, I heard saying: “Blessing and honor and glory and power Be to Him who sits on the throne, And to the Lamb, forever and ever!” Then the four living creatures said, “Amen!” And the twenty-four elders fell down and worshiped Him who lives forever and ever."  -- Revelation 5 (NKJV)
0 notes
Text
Tumblr media
24th December ‘Let what you have said be done to me’, Reflection on the readings for Fourth Sunday of Advent (Lk 1:26-38)
Fourth Sunday of Advent
This year the fourth Sunday of Advent coincides with Christmas Eve. The Season of Advent has been shorter than usual, three weeks rather than the usual four. The fourth candle on our Advent wreath will only be lighting for one day. On this eve of Christmas Day some of us may feel that we could do with a little more time to prepare for Christmas. John the Baptist has been the main character in the gospel readings for the last two Sundays. Today, the last Sunday of Advent, the focus is on Mary, the mother of Jesus. If John the Baptist prepares us for the coming of Jesus, Mary actually brings Jesus to us.
The gospel reading we have just heard has often been depicted by artists down the centuries, whether on canvas or in glass. It is as if artists recognize the great significance of this scene. God had a loving purpose for the world but if that purpose was to come to pass it needed the consent of a young woman in her teens, named Mary, from a small village in the region of Galilee in Northern Israel. A great deal depended on the consent of this young woman to what God was asking of her. God wanted her to be the mother of his Son, Jesus, through whom God could work for the present wellbeing and final salvation of all humanity. The son to whom Mary gives birth would have such an intimate relationship with God that he could be called ‘Son of the Most High’, ‘Son of God’. Because of the unique identity of Mary’s son, Gabriel declares to Mary that he would be conceived in a unique way, through the power of the Holy Spirit. This was a great deal for a young woman to comprehend and consent to. It is not surprising that the gospel reading says she was ‘deeply disturbed’ and was asking, ‘How can this come about?’ God was drawing very close to Mary and it left her with many questions.
The question of Mary in today’s gospel reading ‘How can this come about?’ is a very human one. It is the kind of question that is asked by others in the gospels. When Jesus was with his disciples in the wilderness in the presence of a hungry crowd, they asked him, ‘How can one feed these people with bread here in the desert?’ When we stand before a situation which seems beyond our resources to deal with, we can all find ourselves asking the same kind of question, ‘How can this be?’ ‘How will I deal with this?’ The angel Gabriel’s answer to Mary’s question invited her to trust not in herself but in God. ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you’. A lot was being asked of Mary and it would make great demands on her, but she was not being asked to take on the task of being mother to God’s Son in the strength of her own resources alone. It was in the power of the Spirit that she would give birth to Jesus and nurture him.
Our own question, ‘How can this be?’ ‘How will I get through this?’ can, as in the case of Mary, open us up to the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In today’s second reading, Saint Paul gives glory to God ‘who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News’. When we feel vulnerable and a little helpless, as Mary must have, the Lord can give us his strength in our weakness. The power of the Most High can overshadow us, empowering us to keep fighting the good fight. At those moments when we feel burdened, we can invite God to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves, to take us to places we cannot reach on our own. In the first reading, David had to learn that what he wanted to do for God was much less important than what God wanted to do and could do for him. David wanted to build a beautiful Temple for God. However, speaking through the prophet Nathan, God said, ‘The Lord will make you a house’, not a physical building, but a lineage, a dynasty, that would eventually give rise to Jesus, a descendant of David. God can always do far more for us than we can imagine, if we allow him to.
The gospel reading goes on to declare that, in response to Gabriel’s reassurance, Mary consented to what God was asking of her, ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord, let what you have said be done to me’. She gave herself over to God’s purpose for her life, even though she didn’t fully understand it. She surrendered in faith and trust to God. Because of her act of trusting faith, we all received God’s gift of Jesus. Mary’s trusting faith was a source of blessing for us all. She shows us that our own trusting faith in the Lord, even in those times when we have more questions than answers, will always be a source of blessing for others. Because of our faith, God’s loving purpose will come to pass not just for our own lives but for the lives of others as well.
0 notes