#been meaning to make this negative space family portrait for months

[sparklepoint]

normal family portrait of a normal family [ @floodbender's oc verse]

lore blurb/symbolism notes:

the story is centered around an apocalypse cult seeking to raise a vessel for their god & these kids' parents meet the unfortunate genetic requirements. relevant childhood trauma aspects:

- the cut-out figure is for the absence of a parent who was physically but not mentally present throughout their childhood (because he was brainwashed and fully checked out for the entirety of his parenthood experience)

- the scratched-out figure is for the pain of abandonment by a parent who's so complicit with cult shit he just lets awful things happen to them

- the red figure is pasted on top of the vessel twin

- the other twin is in black and white except for the little blood splatters because he was raised as a bloodbag and ignored entirely otherwise

- extra details, but there's a reason why he has a bit of a glow that nobody else does :)

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Behind The Album: The Downward Spiral

The band’s second studio album was released in March 1994 from Nothing Records and Interscope Records respectively. The release represented a concept album from Trent Reznor detailing a person’s descent into depression and ending in suicide. He would combine the record with qualities of industrial rock, techno, and metal. Much like Broken, this stood in stark contrast to Nine Inch Nails debut Pretty Hate Machine. He first thought of the idea for the record while staying in a European hotel just after the touring Lollapalooza Festival in 1992. Along with the rest of the touring band, the singer had felt this very negative vibe towards their live performances. His original vision for the project was to explore a fictional character with major psychological issues. This fictional character in the end turned out to be Reznor himself as he used this concept to speak on his particular issues at the time in the lyrics. At this time, the Nine Inch Nails front man was at war within the group with Richard Patrick, while at the same time gradually becoming a much harder drinker. Reznor made a conscious decision to distance the sound on this album from the harshness and loudness of Broken. For that reason, he tried to minimize completely any use of guitars and synthesizers, but instead sought an atmosphere on the album of “ texture and space.”

Nine Inch Nails recorded The Downward Spiral at 10050 Cielo Drive in Los Angeles, which stood as the house in which Sharon Tate had been murdered by members of the Manson family. Reznor had first bought the house in 1992 during the recording of Broken. He named the studio that was built there Le Pig After what was scrawled on the wall in blood after the murder. He would later produce Marilyn Manson’s debut album there, Portrait of an American Family. Both the Nine Inch Nails front man and manager John Malm stayed at the house for 18 months while recording Broken and The Downward Spiral. Later in 1993, the sister of Sharon Tate, Patty Tate confronted Reznor about exploiting her sister’s death by recording at her sister’s former home. The encounter did affect him profoundly causing the singer to change his perspective. “For the first time, the whole thing kind of slapped me in the face. I said, 'No, it's just sort of my own interest in American folklore. I'm in this place where a weird part of history occurred.' I guess it never really struck me before, but it did then. She lost her sister from a senseless, ignorant situation that I don't want to support. When she was talking to me, I realized for the first time, 'What if it was my sister?' I thought, 'Fuck Charlie Manson.' I went home and cried that night. It made me see there's another side to things, you know?” Once again, Reznor would collaborate with producer Flood for this record, but it would be their last. They would both have major creative differences moving forward that could not be resolved. One example of these differences came in the song entitled “Just Do It” that did not appear on the finished album. The producer believed Trent had gone too far with that particular track based on the entire concept of the album.

Over the years, the album has been interpreted in a wide variety of ways that make it difficult to pin down. Some of these themes include nihilism, self control, self abuse, depression, and madness. The one interpretation that people did agree on unanimously represented the idea that the entire record is semi autobiographical meaning the fictional protagonist is Trent Reznor. That same person has gradually been going insane through the effects of drugs, alcohol, religion, society, and finally decides to end it all. Some accused Reznor of copying a well traveled theme of angst within grunge music only a few years earlier. The music on The Downward Spiral represented something new, unique, and very unconventional. As noted before, Trent incorporated several seemingly different genres into the record including technical, metal, rock, and electronic. He would regularly utilize distortion and other noises In unstructured ways that listeners were not used to at the time. This meant that the formula of following verse and chorus went out the window with Nine Inch Nails. Another unique trend on the album came with Reznor’s use of new time signatures that were off the standard beat. Another quality found within the music emerged with his singing as it alternated between whispers and screams. He did not rely on too many samples either for The Downward Spiral with the primary ones being one from the George Lucas film THX1138 and an Iggy Pop drumming sample. The singer has noted that the two primary inspirations for the album emerged in David Bowie‘s experimental Low and Pink Floyd’s The Wall. Nine Inch Nails released the tracks “March of the Pigs” and “Closer” as singles, while “Hurt” and “Piggy” did make it on the radio, but not as singles. He was frustrated by the fact that “Closer’s” lyrics were widely misinterpreted as a song about lust, but Reznor intended the lyrics as a theme of self-hatred. The song “Hurt” subsequently released in 1995 made reference to hurting yourself and an addiction to heroin. The track would get worldwide fame a few years later when Johnny Cash covered the song. Reznor would say this about it in interviews. “I wasn’t prepared for what I saw, and it really then, wasn’t my song anymore. Then I got a CD in the post. I listened to it and it was very strange. It was this other person inhabiting my most personal song. Hearing it was like someone kissing your girlfriend. It felt invasive.” As time passed, the singer would make the statement that Johnny Cash covering one of his songs probably meant more to him than winning a Grammy.

The Downward Spiral did suffer from numerous delays from Reznor. He had hoped to finish the album in 1993, but setting up the studio to his liking took longer than expected. At the same time, he was trying to educate himself on how to write songs vastly different from anything he had ever recorded. Another reason for a further delay came in the fact that halfway through the album he suffered a massive attack of writer's block. The record became a massive hit for the band as it debuted at number two on the Billboard charts eventually being certified quadruple platinum by 1998. In the first week alone, The Downward Spiral sold 119,000 copies. Some very early listeners of the record predicted that Reznor had affectively killed the profitability of the band with the release. The singer did not disagree with this assessment as he saw the commercial value of it as quite limited, so the huge sales surprised him quite a bit. Critics almost universally praised the album commenting on its brutal honesty, darkness, and offbeat sound. Robert Christgau of The Village Voice gave it an honorable mention, while the New York Times review found the music to be quite abrasive, but meant as a compliment. Jonathan Gold of Rolling Stone likened the album to cyberpunk fiction popular at the time. Tom Sinclair of Entertainment Weekly had this to say about it. “Reznor's pet topics (sex, power, S&M, hatred, transcendence) are all here, wrapped in hooks that hit your psyche with the force of a blowtorch." In the end, the record would make many best of lists ranked very highly. Rolling Stone’s 500 Greatest Albums Ever saw the release as number 122 in 2020. Spin Magazine’s Top 20 albums of the past 25 years gave it the 10 spot. The legacy of The Downward Spiral was felt by both Reznor, his touring band mates, and the rest of the music world. Its success would lead to fame and notoriety that the singer had not envisioned, nor was he prepared for it in a mental health way either. The group had to deal with rumors left and right referencing Reznor‘s depression, possible death, and even a crazy story that he had been friends with Jeffrey Dahmer. The record also led to countless imitators including Motley Crue. Reznor would later say that The Downward Spiral was an album, where the actual truth self-fulfilled itself, meaning all the darkness, depression, and other negative themes came true in his own life.

[amyscascadingtabs]

i’ll walk through hell with you

chapter 2: i guess truth is what you believe in

read chapter one

read on ao3 here

Amy and Leah visit family, a holiday is celebrated, and illness takes over the Santiago-Peralta household.

december

If there is one thing Amy is certain of, stuck in the car with 97 miles to go and an overtired toddler in the back seat, it is that something must be seriously wrong with her. 

No one in their right mind says yes to a family weekend upstate with all siblings and their families nine days before Christmas. Not when it’s a three-hour drive. Not while they’re already left alone to care for their child for the weekend due to a time-sensitive and crucial opportunity coming up in a case Jake has worked for two months. Not when previously mentioned child is recovering from a cold and is ten times more cranky and attention-craving than normal. 

Except - apparently - Amy.

She doesn't know what the fuck she was thinking. 

She knows some thought went into her plan, such as the idea to drive late at night so Leah could sleep in the car. She simply wishes it could have worked, because right now the toddler is singing Wheels On The Bus for the seventeenth time in forty minutes and Amy feels like her head is going to explode. It's a quarter to ten, over two hours past the kid’s bedtime, and so far she refuses to fall asleep. She's wide awake in her seat, chatting and laughing and singing like there’s no tomorrow. If Amy had as much as a spare drop of energy left -even better, if there had been another parent in the car to focus on entertaining their child - the whole thing would have been adorable, but tonight it’s exhausting above anything else. 

“Maaa-maaa?” Leah shouts the word from the back seat, wildly kicking her legs against the back cushioning, and Amy has to take a deep breath before she can reply in a calm tone. 

“Yes, baby?” 

“Are we there?”

“Not yet, Lee.”

Amy can see the reflection of Leah scrunching her forehead in the baby car mirror. “Why?”

“Because we still have a little way left to drive. We’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Soon?” Leah shines up, kicking her legs again. “When is soon?”

“It will go faster if you close your eyes for a while,” She tries, using one of the oldest parenting tricks in the book. “I promise.”

“Not tired!” Her daughter responds in her cheeriest voice, and Amy gives herself a mental pat on the back for stifling a groan.

They repeat this exchange about ten times or so before Leah tires of it and returns to her singing. At that point, Amy’s counting it as a win. As much as she loves being this kid’s mom, there are indubitably times - and late-night drives with an overtired two-year-old in the back seat - when she loves it less. 

Then Leah falls asleep for the last ten miles of the drive and clutches her arms and legs around Amy like a koala to a tree when she’s lifted out of her car seat and carried to bed, and it’s easier than ever to love being a mom.

-

There’s never an uneventful day with all of the Santiagos in the same house, and it’s not any more relaxing with the extra presence of six partners, twelve grandchildren, and one dog. From the moment Amy and Leah make their way down to the kitchen for breakfast, and the toddler finds out there might be a cookie baking session with grandma happening today, the day is in full swing. Leah joins her in facetiming Jake for a few minutes to say good morning, but after that, Amy barely sees her daughter for more than a split second in several hours.

The chaos is a welcome distraction. She plays Cards Against Humanity with Luis’s teenage daughters and Julian until Simon starts begging them to help him make a YouTube video, and she teaches five-year-old Noah how to draw the perfect portrait of a horse. She reads a story to three-year-old Maisie, and she laughs heartily at the sight of Leah chasing Oscar the Bichon Frise around while yelling Kitty Cat!. For a few, wondrous hours, Amy manages to live in blissful oblivion over the two starkly negative pregnancy tests she unceremoniously shoved in the bathroom trash can before leaving yesterday, and it feels like heaven.

It feels like heaven up until she joins the crew of brothers and partners currently taking up space in the kitchen. Her brother Isaac is parked in the middle of the kitchen couch, feeding the youngest Santiago member, just-turned one-month-old Milo, with a bottle; around him Camila, Luis, Tony and his wife Clara all fawn over and admire every aspect of the newborn’s appearance. Christian, Julian and Julian’s husband Lucas are at the other end of the kitchen cuddling with and doting on the exhausted dog, and Amy silently curses her allergies for making her unable to join them. Simon just brought out his camera in the living room and she refuses to risk another unwilling YouTube appearance, so her only option is to sit down with the team of awestruck baby-admirers. 

“You forget how tiny they are,” Luis says, watching the infant with a nostalgic glance in his eyes. “I’ve had five, and you never get used to it.”

“You don’t,” Camila confirms with a small laugh, reaching out to stroke the baby’s closed fist with her thumb and index finger. “Not even I do. I’m shocked every time!” 

“I thought I remembered everything from when Maisie was born.” Isaac grins, giving the empty baby bottle to Camila and carefully lifting the infant upright against his shoulder. “But then he comes out, and I think he must be several pounds lighter because surely Maisie was never this tiny, but he was bigger!” He shakes his head. “It’s insane.”

“He’s so cute,” Tony chimes in. “Do you get to sleep anything? I’m nervous about that.” His left hand is resting next to Clara’s on top of her visible baby bump. Amy lets out an audible snort upon hearing about her brother’s main cause for worry, but Isaac just grins.

“You get used to it. It’ll probably be worse for Clara anyway.”

“Great.” Clara grimaces, turning to Amy. “I can’t even sleep now! I either have a baby sleeping on top of my bladder or kicking me in the ribs for the whole night.”

“I remember.” She smiles, thinking back to the few times late in her pregnancy she’d made Jake sleep on the couch only because she couldn’t stand listening to his snoring on top of it all. “It sucks, and then everyone keeps telling you to sleep while you still can and you’re trying not to punch them.”

“Exactly!” Her sister-in-law laughs, tucking a strand of red-blonde hair behind her ear. “At least everyone says it’s worth it.”

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have done it so many times,” says Camila, and Clara looks relieved. “Oh, Amy, you need to hold Milo for a little while! He’s been in everyone’s arms except for yours today. Isaac, send him to Amy.”

“Oh.” She squirms in her seat, a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. “It’s okay. I was just going to look for Leah anyway -”

“Leah’s upstairs doing puzzles with Sarah and Samuel,” Isaac explains, referring to David’s two-year-old twins. “She’s fine. You can hold him, Ames.”

“I think I’m good… okay, no choice, I see.” Her younger brother’s already holding out the infant to her, and before she can adjust to the thought, there’s a tiny, yawning baby in her arms.

It’s achingly familiar, yet it feels like it’s been forever. 

At first, it’s like every muscle fiber in her body tenses with the sudden awareness that there's a fragile, helpless human in her arms and the weight of terrifying responsibility resting with her for a moment. It's been two years since Amy last held a newborn, and she certainly forgot how breakable they feel when they haven't learned to support their own head. Then Milo lets out a content sigh, his mouth twitching like he's smiling at her, and although she knows he's too small and it's likely just gas, the brief facial expression makes her feel chosen.

She's missed this, she realizes. Noting the classic Santiago baby appearance traits, the head of dark hair and the little button nose, she thinks of countless hours spent holding her own clingy newborn two years ago, and bites her lip when she remembers that she still has no idea when she’ll get to do it again. Milo’s adorable, and Amy's secretly wishing he could stay in her arms forever or she could steal him and take him home with her, but he's also a painful reminder of what she wants most and doesn't have yet.

“He likes you,” Isaac comments, nodding towards the infant. “You and Jake haven’t thought of having another one?”

She freezes at the sound of his question, instantly clueless about what constitutes a good reply. She could tell him the truth, of course, and probably receive a flood of well-meaning advice about the best ways to conceive, but doing so would lead to expectations. Santiagos aren’t known for struggling to have kids, and she’s terrified of handling a hoard of family members subtly trying to figure out whether or not she's pregnant every time they see her. It's enough pressure coming from herself. She doesn't need people adding to it - least of all her family. 

“Oh,” she says instead, avoiding eye contact by playing with one of Milo’s fists. “Well, we’re not sure yet.”

“Two years is the best age span between siblings,” Luis chimes in. “We always tried to aim for two years and our kids are super close.”

“Yes, yes, two years is perfect,” Camila agrees, nodding eagerly. “The adjustment is much more difficult when they’ve turned three, or four, and suddenly they’re not the youngest anymore… Sometimes I think Tony never got over his grudges against Simon!” 

“I’m telling you, mom, that’s not it, we have a grudge because four years ago he made me do that awful cinnamon challenge that almost gave me an asthma attack and filmed it -”

“Two years is great,” Christian interrupts his younger brother’s story without remorse. “We went for two years between Isabel and Noah and it was perfect. You do want to have more than one kid, right?”

Amy has never wished harder for a baby in her arms to start crying. 

She needs to get away, out of the situation where she has to hear and answer these sudden intrusive questions, but Milo shows no signs of waking. She’s stuck with a panicky, claustrophobic sensation in her chest and a forced smile on her lips. 

“We do,” she replies to Christian’s question, weighing every word carefully. “We’re just not sure when.”

“No point in waiting,” says Isaac, looking at the baby in Amy’s arms. “I wish we’d had Milo earlier!”

There must be a lack of air in the room, or her allergy medicines have stopped working and are making her react to the dog, because she can’t shake the feeling she’s suffocating. She's feeling trapped even in the spacious kitchen, and although she knows everyone has their eyes fixed on Milo, she can't shake the feeling it's her they're staring at. 

She wonders if they're seeing right through her; if they somehow know about negative pregnancy tests of yesterday, or if they can sense her desperation and frustration in the fake smile plastered on her face.

“I suppose you never know,” she answers somehow, heart pounding too quickly. “I, uh… have to go to the bathroom. Do you want to hold him for a little while, Clara?”

Amy senses eyes on her as she sneaks out the kitchen, hurries through the hallway and grabs her coat before heading out and sitting down on the porch, but she can't bring herself to care. She has to fill her lungs with fresh air and get away from well-meaning but prying questions, or she’s going to have a full-on breakdown. 

There’s a layer of snow on the ground, too thin for any children or adults to be playing in but enough to give a sense of hope for a white Christmas. She scrapes her fingers through the minuscule ice crystals gathered on the wooden decking, drawing an uneven heart with her index finger and following it with another. 

You do want to have more than one kid, right?

She draws a third, smaller heart below the two bigger ones.

You and Jake haven’t thought of having another one anytime soon? 

She draws a fourth tiny heart next to the third one.

No point in waiting.

She hides her fist in the sleeve of her winter coat, rubbing it over her drawings and turning them into nothingness. She curses the fact that Jake’s working, that he and Rosa are following up some highly important leads today and their mission would likely be sabotaged if she called and interrupted her husband now, and she curses the fact that Leah’s having the time of her life playing with her cousins and would probably scream in protest if Amy tried to steal her for cuddles. 

It’s not too cold outside with her warm coat keeping her comfortable, but she’s still shivering, so she wraps her arms around herself and tries to blink away the tears taking form in her eyes.

She’s aware she’s being ridiculous. Having a baby takes more than a couple months of trying in many, many cases - the majority of them, even. She’s far from unique, yet a sneaking suspicion and vexing anxiety are lingering with her. 

No point in waiting.

She puts one hand on her chest and one hand over her stomach, trying to focus on the fresh air flowing in through her nose and out through her mouth, filling and leaving her for each inhale and exhale.

“Just relax,” she whispers to herself, pretending it's Jake's voice saying the words, his unwavering belief that it will all be fine she's listening to. 

“Are you sure you’re still my sister? Have you had some kind of personality change?” 

“Huh?” Amy almost jumps at the sound of Julian’s voice, bringing her out of her focused breathing and forcing her to look up.

“You’re willingly outside in the cold weather,” he declares, slumping down next to her. “Even with a coat on, that's impressive for you.” She notes that he's only wearing a hoodie himself and seems unbothered by the temperature.

“I needed fresh air.”

“Because of Oscar? I swear his breed is supposed to be allergy-friendly, we researched that stuff in depth. Maybe your allergies are just undefeatable?”

“No, it’s fine as long as I don't pet him.” Amy places a hand on her brother's shoulder, squeezing it. “Oscar’s great. Leah's in love with him.”

“Isn't he amazing?” Julian's grin is comically wide, his eyes sparkling with undiluted pride. “He can sit, and roll, and catch, and play dead if he gets enough candy! Parenthood is incredible. I’m so glad our kids get along.” He doesn't entirely sound like he’s joking, and Amy can't help but laugh at his excitement. “So if it wasn't Oscar, why did you leave?”

“Were you listening to the conversation?”

“Eh, bits and pieces. How so?”

She sighs. “They - mom, and Isaac and Christian, mostly - interrogated me about whether we’re planning to have another baby anytime soon.”

“And you’re not?”

“We are! We’re actively trying for it.”

“Oh! Cool,” Julian nods, scratching the stubble on his chin. “I can get behind that. I wouldn't have anything against reproducing with those Peralta genes either if I could.” Amy elbows her brother in the side at that, probably way harder than necessary, and it makes him gasp in offense. “Hey! It’s just objective facts that he's attractive!”

“I’m telling Lucas you said that.”

“Lucas agrees. Either way - if you actually are trying, what's with the tears and the sudden storming out?”

“I didn't storm out,” she protests, and he gives her a meaning look of judgment as if to say yes, you did. “And it's nothing.”

Julian snorts. “Sure it is.”

“It's not a big deal.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“It's just making me a little stressed is all.” 

“A little.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Amy groans, placing her head in both hands and quickly running her fingers through her hair. There's a knot in the back of it, and she busies herself trying to pull it apart as she speaks. “We are trying. It's just not going very well yet, I guess. It’s making me nervous, and it's not something I want to tell everyone in our family about, because, well… we’re not exactly known for struggling with that.”

Julian is silent, and there’s a moment where Amy wonders if she’s managed the impossible. For all their countless petty fights and differences, Julian has always had a reply to offer her. Sometimes he’s supportive, sometimes questioning, and sometimes he’s all over judging her decisions, but he never ignores her worries when she chooses to confide in him. It throws her off to see him take so long to answer her now, and she watches him twist the white gold wedding ring on his finger absentmindedly while he grimaces.

“No,” he says right as she starts to consider tapping him on the shoulder to make sure he’s conscious. “I guess we’re not known for struggling with anything. Has this… been a problem for a long time?”

“A couple of months.”

“...Is that a long time? I’m not great with this heterosexual business. I’m much better with waiting times for adopting a dog.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “It’s not that long. But it’s longer when you don’t have a lot of time to begin with.” Julian looks about as perplexed as if she’d been trying to explain the intricate details of quantum physics to him, and she clarifies. “Fertility decreases as you age.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“I’m thirty-nine. Maybe I shouldn't panic yet, but in a year, or two…” Amy shakes her head. “It gets really low. Higher chances of miscarrying. Chromosome variations. Premature birth. You name it. Basically, the sooner I get pregnant now, the better and safer it is for everyone.”

“I see.”

“So there's some time pressure,” she explains further, connecting her hands inside the coat sleeves to eliminate the cold that's started to seep in. “And it’s making me terrified something's wrong with me already. That it's not going to work. That we’ll never be able to have a second kid. I know that's maybe not the end of the world, but… I really, really want it, and I’d be heartbroken if it didn’t happen.”

A pair of stubborn, humiliating teardrops make their way down her cheeks at the thought, and she untangles her hands to quickly wipe them away. 

“I’m sure it'll work out, Ames.” Julian's smile is partly sympathetic and partly insecure when he speaks, like this subject is miles out of his comfort zone but he's trying his best anyway. “As you said, two months is nothing, right? Mom was like, 42 when she had Simon. Surely if anyone's got the genes for this, it’s our family.”

“Yeah. It's never a guarantee, though, and I can’t handle their questions. Two years is the best time between siblings,” she imitates in an exaggerated high-pitched tone, and Julian laughs heartily. “As if I wasn’t already pressuring myself about the same thing. But I can't tell them that, because then they’d start asking.”

“Mm, our family does lack all understanding of what privacy is sometimes.” Julian grins. “There are several options even for gay men! Surrogates! Adoption! I read this article in a magazine where a pair co-parented with lesbians!” His shrill imitation tone is awful and hilarious at the same time, making Amy snicker. “I think she was mad at me for weeks after I told her we were happy with a dog. She means well, but it just becomes a lot.”

“Doesn’t get easier when it’s something you already want, either.” 

“You’ll be fine.”

“Maybe. I hope so.”

“If not, I’m pro-dogs. They’re pretty much like children, except you don’t have to create a college fund for them. A win-win situation if it weren’t for the fact that owning a dog could probably kill you. But other than that!” Julian stretches his arms over his head, looking mighty proud of himself. “Solid.”

“I’m already busy trying to talk Jake out of buying a cat,” says Amy, massaging her temples at the thought. “But he’s managed to get Leah obsessed with them, so I think I’m losing.”

“That’s why she’s calling Oscar a cat! Wow. Jake’s a genius.”

“Well, that and she’s two. And please don’t ever tell him that, because his ego would literally explode.”

Amy can feel her face going numb from the cold outside, a sudden gust of wind coming at them and making her eyes tear for a new reason. The fact that she’s lost track of time hits her, awakening an uneasiness and a sudden need to get inside and check up on how her daughter’s doing, so she gives Julian a quick, rare hug, and is surprised when he squeezes her back for a long time.

“Thanks for coming out,” she mumbles, and he nods.

“Of course. I just don’t like seeing you cry.”

“Aww, that’s kind of sweet.”

“You look so weird when you do,” he says with a smirk, and she rolls her eyes at the mock insult. “No one should have to see that.”

“Fuck off, Jules.”

“Yep. Now let’s go make sure our kids are still alive and haven’t eaten any couches. Is that a thing with human children too?”

~

january

It’s a good Christmas.

It’s a Christmas where Amy can allow herself some time to relax and unwind, put her worries aside and focus on her family during the ten days both her and Jake manage to garner off work. It’s a long-awaited and dearly welcomed break from early daycare drop-offs, ten-minute-dinners, and infinite planning to make sure nothing is forgotten. 

Instead there is time for slow wakeups, snuggling with Leah when she crawls into their bed in the early hours of the morning and giving in to her request of watching iPad in their bed only so they can keep their eyes closed for a little while longer. There's time for late-night conversations over a glass of wine that don't feel rushed because at least they don't have somewhere to be tomorrow, and there's time to properly see friends outside of work for the first time in what feels like forever. They go to dinner at Terry’s house, watch Rosa enjoy the indoor trampoline park even more than Leah does, and they gratefully accept Charles’ offer to babysit their daughter for a night. Amy figures the man has a specific motive in mind, but then Jake suggests they spend the night at a hotel and Leah gets ecstatic at the mention of watching Disney movies with her uncle Charles and Nikolaj, so she ends up saying yes. She’s only human, after all, and she’s not going to neglect the rare and precious chance of a sleep-in.

(The date also times mysteriously well with when she should be ovulating.)

(She does not want to ask.)

Even the yearly Christmas dinner with the Santiagos ends up being survivable. Although there are kids crying, odd snarky comments between Tony and Simon, and Leah outright refuses to wear anything but her sequined dinosaur shirt and glittery tights to the event, things proceed smoothly and Amy’s stress levels remain on the healthier part of the scale. She watches Jake hold and make funny faces at Milo and can feel her mom giving them meaning looks from across the room, but she breathes through it and silently thanks the Universe when Leah chooses that exact moment to climb onto Amy’s lap and ask if they can read one of her new books. Sure, part of her wishes she could be gifting her husband a crafted announcement with a baby onesie and a positive pregnancy test much like the ones she’s pinned on Pinterest, but the tender way he hugs her thank you after he opens his gift and sees the photo book filled with pictures with him and Leah, is more than enough to ease her sorrow. He gifts her a gold necklace with the letters J and L in separate miniature hearts, and when he tells her it’s so she can always be keeping them next to her own heart, she tears up and kisses him so long and ardently that he looks a little dazed, blinking with surprise when they part.

It’s a good New Year’s Eve, too. They spend the first part of the evening at the Holt-Cozner New Year’s Party, listening to their daughter proudly tell every guest she’s going to stay up until midnight, and then they try not to laugh when she passes out the moment she’s in her car seat at half-past nine. Jake and Amy end their year in pajamas on the couch, toasting in champagne just for the sake of it and going right to bed afterward.

Next year we’ll have another baby, she thinks to herself before falling asleep about fifteen minutes into the new year, a new sense of shimmering optimism lingering with her. It has to have worked by then.

January is hell. Everyone knows it, specifically, everyone who’s had children at daycare, because January means no one is healthy and neither Jake nor Amy manage a full week at work without taking time off to care for a sick child or themselves. Amy prays they’ll make it through without any cases of stomach flu, but such seems to have been too much to ask, because she’s woken up by devastating crying from Leah’s room on the one night Jake’s doing a night shift and she knows before the two-year-old’s even started retching. 

She doesn’t get any sleep that night.

She doesn’t get any sleep the next night either, because when Leah stops throwing up and Amy feels like she can breathe again when the child keeps some applesauce down and asks if she can watch Doc McStuffins, it only takes three hours before Jake starts complaining about feeling sick. 

January must surely be some twisted sort of a joke, she thinks, and disinfects her hands an extra time before she goes to remind her very miserable husband that he’s not actually dying. 

It’s only natural, amid the virus-filled havoc, that it takes her a few days to realize she hasn’t gotten her period.  

Come to think of it, she is feeling a bit nauseous. The excessive fatigue and emotional imbalance she knows were early symptoms in her first pregnancy is harder to distinguish from the exhaustion after two intense days of caring for poorly family members, but she’s a mom and a Santiago and she categorically never gets sick. 

She gives the nausea a day, waiting for it to break out into the same flu Jake and Leah are already victims of, but it doesn’t. It stays the same.

Amy’s never been so excited about nausea in her life.

She waits until Leah’s gone to bed, falling asleep in Amy’s arms on the couch. The two-year-old’s still not quite her energetic, bubbly self and has been stuck to her parents like a needy band-aid for most of the day, and it could have been tiring if it hadn’t also meant lots of cuddles. Right now, though, Amy's arms and back are happy to get a break from carrying the kid around while she lays down next to Jake instead, spooning him and receiving a grateful smile when she starts playing with his hair.

“How are you feeling, babe?”

“Dying. I think I might be dead already,” he groans before turning his head and looking her in the eyes with feigned seriousness. “Please say something nice at my funeral and promise me you'll take care of Charles when I'm gone.”

“You're not dying, Jake.”

“How d’you know?”

“Because you haven't thrown up since last night and you only have a slight fever,” she reminds him, feeling his lukewarm forehead. “You're fine.”

“I am definitely much better with a hot girl draped on top of me,” he says with a smug expression, his hand gently stroking under her old NYPD shirt up her back. She rolls her eyes, because looks haven't exactly been the top priority for the last three days and she's not sure when she last washed her hair, yet Jake never stops making an effort to charm her. “How are you feeling, Ames?”

“Actually, I've been kind of nauseous all day. But I'm not sure it's stomach flu.”

“Huh? What else would it be?”

“I'm thinking,” she presses her index finger to his chest, “maybe I should take a pregnancy test.”

“Oh.” He squints at her. “Why?”

Amy gives him an exasperated look.

“Okay, yeah. But you’ve also spent the last three days taking care of your sick family. Leah was throwing up on us. Are you sure you're not just ill?”

“I have a good feeling,” she insists, because she does - there's a renewed sense of hope and blind faith that perhaps this could be it, resting with her. “And I never get sick.”

“Once again, your daughter was vomiting on you and I'm still convinced I might be dying. This is a brutal virus, Ames.”

“Clearly.” She runs her fingers through his messier-than-usual curls again, and his mouth shapes into a content smile despite his still worried eyes. “I’m still going to take that test, though. In case.”

“In case,” he repeats slowly. “Well, it’s your body.”

“Exactly.” She kisses his forehead. “You get it. I’ll be right back.”

Amy takes these tests with ease now. She’s been doing them two, three times extra following every first negative in a desperate hope for the result to change. False negatives are common, test results are safer the longer after a missed period they’re taken, and there’s no reason not to test an extra time. Long story short, she's becoming a pro at taking pregnancy tests, but so far the single lines and minus signs are staying the same.

She says a silent prayer this one will be an exception. 

Plastic cap off, pee for five seconds, plastic cap back on, lay the test flat and wait while trying not to freak out. She manages all steps but the final. 

She carries the little plastic stick out to the living room coffee table gently as if it had been made of glass.

“Three minutes,” she informs Jake, and he nods while she sets a timer on her phone. In three minutes, they'll know whether her good feeling is right or dead wrong, and the nausea increases but this time Amy thinks it's nerves.

She doesn't want to stare, but she does anyway, waiting for a second line to appear no matter how faint. Jake sits up next to her, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, and she manages a weak smile without lifting her eyes from the test.

The timer goes off without a second line appearing. 

Amy lifts the test to inspect it closer, but there's not even a hint of anything. She gives it to Jake for a second opinion, and he inspects it just as closely before shaking his head and mumbling a quiet sorry, babe. 

She's not pregnant this month either.

“It’s okay, Ames. Three months is nothing.”

She doesn’t realize there are tears in her eyes until they’re trailing down her cheeks and Jake’s hand is there, wiping them away. She presses on his wrist to move it, make him stop because she’s not okay and she doesn’t want him pressuring her to feel anything but the searing disappointment coursing through her veins.

“It’s not,” she says, shaking her head. “I just feel so stupid. I thought I was feeling something.”

“You’re not stupid,” he tells her, and the tenderness in his voice erases her annoyance. “You want this really bad. I do, too, but… well, it’s not my body.”

“Not your body being a massive failure.”

“Hey!” Jake holds up one hand like he’s making a stop motion. “No one talks that way about my wife!”

“Ha-ha.”

“I’m serious! You don’t get to say those things, okay? You know it’s not true.” She hums a doubting sound, and he sighs, placing his arm around her shoulders. “Ames, we’ll just try again. We already did a great job once, and there are moments I wish we hadn’t, because if we didn’t have a toddler in daycare I would be so much healthier… okay, I still don’t regret it,” he adds. “Except maybe the daycare part, because I swear I’m sick all the time.”

“You love our daycare! Without it, you’d never get to eat that Scientology-guy’s chocolate chip cookies at every parent meeting.”

“Fair point. Craig, right? Weirdly good baker. Fine - I guess I don’t regret the daycare either. But you’re about to.”

This time, she’s the one squinting at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Still feeling nauseous?”

“Kind of, why are you… oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Your immune system isn’t undefeatable!” 

“It’s still better than yours,” she counters, and Jake just grins.

“But not undefeatable.”

She gives him a slow nod, trying to hide the despondency on her face as she takes the negative test from his hands.

“I’m just going to throw this away.”

Amy is certain of it when she wakes up three hours later, almost throwing herself out of bed to make it to the bathroom in time - January is officially and unquestionably hell. 

~

[queensofrap]

Cardi B in the March 2019 issue of Harper’s BAZAAR. QUEEN.

Cardi B Opens Up About Her "Rags to Riches" Cinderella Story

When Cardi B visits her favorite nail salon in the Bronx, she enters through a raggedy hallway covered with a rug emblazoned with the image of a $100 bill. The salon, which overlooks a bustling avenue of pizza shops, sports-gear superstores, and boutiques with weaves in 70 colors, is a temple to money, excess, and sexiness, symbolized in the application of nails that look like diamond-encrusted Buck knives. Portraits of two icons of pulchritude hang on the walls—namely, Marilyn Monroe and the very 2019 version of Marilyn: Cardi. 

With a posse that includes her dad, her half-sister, her half-brother, and two Drogosize bodyguards whose names I don’t catch but imagine to be Bulwark and Spear, Cardi, 26, heads toward a private side room. She surrenders her hands and feet to Jenny Bui, her sharp-tongued nail tech of more than half a decade, even back when she didn’t have the money to move out of this borough.

A tiny, makeup-less sprite in magenta leggings and a playful Moschino sweatshirt, Cardi talks about where she’s at today. On one hand, she says, “I feel like my life is a fairy tale and I’m a princess—rags to riches, people trying to sabotage,” she says. But she also complains fervently about being over the fairy-tale life and wanting peace and quiet. “Before, I cared about everything—relationship, gossip. Now I don’t feel like I have the time to please people,” she explains. “I don’t care about anything anymore—just my career and my kid.” What about money, the thing she raps about caring for quite a bit? “Well, I care about my career because of my money,” Cardi says, giving me a “c’mon, stupid” face.

“Before,” in this context, means before the tectonic shifts that have taken place in Cardi’s life in the past year: that she became a global superstar; relocated from New York to Atlanta to live with the charismatic rapper Offset, her new husband; gave birth to an unplanned but much loved daughter, Kulture Kiari, in July; then, five months later, after the drip-drip-drip of rumors about Offset’s infidelity, announced on Instagram that the marriage was over.

Today Cardi tells me that Offset has been to her apartment, but they haven’t seen each other and are “not really” talking, which is a bit hard to believe after she shows me videos of her gurgling baby on her iPhone and happens to scroll past a photo of Offset with a time stamp reading today. When I ask her if she’s getting back with Offset, I can almost hear her curious entourage, who have arranged themselves on sofas on the perimeter of the room, lean forward to catch the answer. For a moment, the only sound is Bui engaging in some hard-hat-level sanding and scraping of the star’s three-inch nails. Then Cardi says both, “I don’t think so,” and “Who knows? You never know, you can never tell,” neither of which is exactly a definitive answer.

I’ve interviewed dozens of pop stars, and Cardi, despite the massive entourage and the bear-claw-like nails, seems the most normal. She’s not the most down-to-earth or the most perfect, and she’s definitely not the least into social media, but she knows who she is and where she came from, and has somehow managed to keep expressing genuine emotions in the face of blockbuster success. And while her emotions can sometimes seem out of control, who hasn’t been there? We might not have screamed and thrown a shoe at Nicki Minaj at a Harper’s Bazaar event this past September (in retribution, Cardi has said, for various slights from Minaj, including liking a negative comment about her parenting skills), or allegedly ordered an attack on two female bartenders at a strip club visited by Offset (a judge issued orders of protection in December for the accusers), but we’ve all been mad as hell. And the unbearable cuteness and sexiness of Cardi, a raunchy L.O.L. doll, quickly erases those moments, drowning them in adorable high jinks.  

Leaving aside the fake nails and boob implants, with Cardi the artifice is in the artwork. In the space of less than a year, her music, videos, and fashion have made her a star of Lady Gaga proportions. She releases hit after hit; following last summer’s “I Like It,” the first Latin trap song to rise to number one on the Billboard Hot 100, with “Money,” a song, unsurprisingly, about money. In the video, she wears gorgeous clothes (she’s got “10 different looks and my looks all kill,” she raps), including outfits referencing Thierry Mugler, a gold bikini inspired by 1990s Lil’ Kim’s, and a custom Christian Cowan bodysuit fabricated from dozens of actual watches. She’s a post-Kardashian American superstar, a master of selfies, belfies, late-night Instagram videos, and all other manner of self-promotion— and also a creative genius. In 2019, no one needs to pick.  

Raised in the Bronx, Cardi was the naturally rebellious daughter of a Trinidadian-born cashier mother and a Dominican Republic–born cabdriver father. Her mother was strict. Nevertheless she joined the notorious Bloods gang, moved out of her mother’s home and in with a boyfriend and, finding herself broke, took a job as a cashier at a grocery store. To build a nest egg, she became a stripper. To build a bigger nest egg, she became a hot girl on social media. In 2015, she was cast as a lovable loudmouth on the VH1 reality show Love & Hip Hop: New York, then began releasing her own mixtapes. Her debut single, “Bodak Yellow,” went to the top of the charts, and it took her only one album to achieve escape velocity: Invasion of Privacy, arguably the best debut album from a female rapper since Lil’ Kim’s 1996 Hard Core. 

It’s an intense time for Cardi, now one of the biggest rappers—and one of the most famous women in the world—caring for an infant and dealing with a semi-estranged husband. Her answer is to be as real as she can. As much as she may imagine herself as a princess, she talks about admiring Meghan Markle for becoming a real one. “She must just be like, ‘Who am I?’” Cardi says, referring to Markle’s having to live by the royal family’s rules. Not being able to be herself would be the worst punishment for Cardi. 

Up and down, joy and pain, sunshine and rain—we’ve experienced all her days on her social media channels, where she posts close-up, emotional videos like an Instagram mime. She’s not your typical grasping celebrity, and doesn’t get off on endless adulation. “I work with somebody who gives me compliments all day, and I’m like, ‘Oh, my gosh, can you just stop?’” she says.   

Cardi’s fans have been so protective of her that when Offset broke in to her set at a concert, walking onstage with a $15,000 rolling floral display made of 2,000 roses that read TAKE ME BACK CARDI, they exploded on social media with anger over a man who refused to take a woman’s “no” at face value. (A backstage video showing one of Cardi’s reps escorting Offset to the stage did little to dim the outrage.)  

I ask if any family or friends influenced her decision to leave Offset. “No, I decided on my own,” she declares, looking me straight in the eye. “Nobody makes my decisions about my life but me.” Before they broke up, Offset begged Cardi to see a therapist. “I didn’t want to go to marriage counseling,” she says, in a firm tone of voice. “He suggested it, but it’s like, ‘I don’t want to go.’ There’s no counselor or nothing that could make me change my mind.”

Like many women who’ve experienced heartache and alleged infidelity, she seems caught between wanting to stay and leave. As Elizabeth Gilbert wrote in Eat Pray Love, Offset is “[her] lighthouse and [her] albatross in equal measure.” But Cardi also knows that dating new guys might be bizarre. “I have a kid, and I’m also famous,” she says quietly. “So I can’t just sleep with anybody. People talk. You know, if I date somebody in the industry, that’s another person in the industry. If I date somebody who is not in the industry, he might not understand my lifestyle.” Since the breakup, she’s been getting a ton of messages from guys but ignoring them. “It’s like, ‘Bro, why would you want to holler at me right away? You’re weird.’ If you think Imma automatically hop onto you after a marriage, that just means you think I’m a sleaze. And I’m not. I have a kid—I have to show an example.”

Bui, who has been listening intently to our interview while crafting Cardi’s nails, waves a hand and then interjects, “You’re so old-fashioned!”

“Jenny, just because I’m out there and very sexual doesn’t mean that I have to be whorish,” says Cardi. “I like to have sex. That doesn’t mean I have to have it with everybody.” She pauses, then adds, “Not that I judge women who want to have sex with the world.”

Done with her rant, Cardi turns her attention to her nails. “Damn, that’s sharp,” she says to Bui, whistling a little under her breath. “The polish will make them less sharp, right? Because we can’t forget about the baby.” Ignoring her, Bui says only, “Don’t move.”

Throughout our conversation, Cardi has been jiggling her leg up and down like a schoolkid. I ask her how long she’s had that habit. “Forever, and you know what? People always talk shit about it, but now it’s like, ‘Ha ha,’ because when I do it my daughter likes it,” she says.    

Despite the indelible image of Cardi breast-feeding in the “Money” video, wearing a black gown open at the bodice, she isn’t breast-feeding Kulture, whom she’s nicknamed KK. “It was too hard,” she explains. In fact, she spent most of the time after the baby was born in a haze of postpartum depression. “I thought I was going to avoid it,” Cardi says. “When I gave birth, the doctor told me about postpartum, and I was like, ‘Well, I’m doing good right now, I don’t think that’s going to happen.’ But out of nowhere, the world was heavy on my shoulders.”

Realizing that taking KK with her on the tour bus was unrealistic but unable to bear leaving her at home, Cardi dropped out of a lucrative tour with Bruno Mars. She started feeling better a couple of months after the baby was born, she says, and her mother has been helping out; Cardi hasn’t hired professional help because she isn’t sure she can trust anyone outside her family.

As a new mom, Cardi is still experiencing aches and pains. “For some reason, I still don’t feel like my body’s the same,” she says. “I feel like I don’t have my balance right yet. When it comes to heels, I’m not as good at walking anymore. I feel like I’m holding a weight on me. I don’t know why because I’m skinnier than I’ve ever been. But there’s an energy I haven’t gotten back yet that I had before I was pregnant. It’s just the weirdest thing.”

The baby is starting to help Cardi balance her emotions, though. “Sometimes I’ll see something online and it’ll piss me off, and then my baby will start crying or something, and it’s like, ‘You know what? I’ve got to deal with the milk. Forget this.’” She’s thinking about pulling back a little from social media. “I’ve noticed that every time you respond, you just make things worse, so I’m over it. I’m just over it. I really don’t need it, and sometimes it just brings chaos to my brain.” She adds, “I can stay off social media. I’ve been trying.” For months after KK was born, Cardi didn’t put pictures of her on social media, and certainly didn’t sell any to the tabloids. She says Offset wanted to put a picture up, but she was unsure.  

“As soon as she was born, one month in he was like, ‘She’s so beautiful. Watch how people gonna go crazy.’ ’Cause a lot of people were saying mean stuff, like that we don’t post her because she’s ugly. He was like, ‘I’m about to post my baby right now.’ But then we were very concerned because we were getting a lot of threats, so he said, ‘The world don’t even deserve to see her.’” Eventually Cardi wanted to put a photo up because “it’s really annoying and we don’t have a life. We have to hide her all the time. I can’t go to L.A. or Miami and walk down the beach with my baby. I want to go shopping with my baby. I want to take a stroll with my baby. Sometimes I feel bad for her because all she knows is the house.” But can’t you put on a baseball cap? I ask. Will people still recognize you? “Yeah,” she says. “It’s my nose.” 

Bui applies a final coat of purple paint on Cardi’s nails—a brief discussion ensues about whether the shade is the exact “baby purple” Cardi has requested—and then she talks about needing to get home to go to sleep. “I’ve got a big meeting in the morning in Boston,” Cardi says, nodding slowly. “Lots of money in Boston.” She begins horsing around with her six-year-old half-brother, ribbing him for being rebellious the way she used to be. “He’s a child of the corn!” she wails. “He’s just like me.” (Her half-sister adds, “Like you, sharp but sweet.”) Bui says she thought that when Cardi hit it big, she wouldn’t see her in the salon again. “I told her, ‘You’re going to forget about me,’ ” Bui says. “And she said, ‘Never.’”

[clementinefletcher]

BASIC  INFORMATION.

FULL NAME: Clementine Louise Fletcher

NICKNAME: Clem

OCCUPATION: Twitch Streamer & Freelance Artist

AGE: 26, about to be 27 in not even a month.

DATE OF BIRTH: August 8th, 1993

NATIONALITY: American

GENDER & PRONOUNS: She/They

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Unsure; has only dated females, but is attracted to males.

RELIGION ( or lack thereof ): Agnostic; is starting to get really into different religions. 

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

DOMINANT HAND: Left

ACCENT + INTENSITY: None

TATTOO(s): Sappho minimalist portrait on left up arm, earth elements on right thigh, tiny knife with belt on right ankle, butterfly on right forearm

SCAR(s): A few that she has yet to tell anyone about

PIERCING(s): Just ears 

GLASSES: None

BACKGROUND INFORMATION.

HOMETOWN: Harlem New York

CURRENT RESIDENCE: The NorthWest District

LANGUAGE(s): English

SOCIAL CLASS: Middle Class

BASIC EDUCATION: High School 

COLLEGE EDUCATION: None

DEGREE(s): None

MOTHER: Alana Fletcher

FATHER: Daniel Fletcher (Bio)

SIBLING(s): None

SIGNIFICANT OTHER(s): None

CHILDREN: None

ADDITIONAL FAMILY: Collin Green (Surrogate Father)

PET(s): None, but is really looking into it.

RAP SHEET?: All offenses when she was a minor; loitering, trespassing, and stealing.

PRISON TIME?: None, some nights in jail, but she was homeless so it sorta helped. 

CHARACTER PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Ambitious, Energetic, Supportive, Adaptable, Conscientious, Dexterous, Vehement

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Jittery, Overcritical, Stoic, Enigmatic, Indulgent, Erratic, Presumptuous

BIGGEST FEAR: Waking up alone and on the streets again.

BIGGEST REGRET: Staying as long as she did with her parents. Letting others take advantage of her kindness while on the streets. 

WHAT’S MORE IMPORTANT? SEX or INTIMACY

ARE YOU A LEADER or A FOLLOWER: More of a follower than liking to admit.

ARE YOU SPONTANEOUS or DO YOU NEED A PLAN?: It all depends on the time, place, and situation. 

DO YOU BELIEVE IN TRUE LOVE?: Yes

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE?: No

DO YOU CARE WHAT OTHERS THINK OF YOU?: How did you know?

HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH STRESS?: Listen to emo music from high school years, play Animal Crossing New Horizons, and mixing up paints.

WHAT IS A SONG YOUR CHARACTER RELATES TO THEIR LIFE?: Guitless by Dodie

VICES & HABITS.

DO YOU SMOKE?: Weed and CBD joints.

DO YOU DRINK?:  Not very often since, it messes with anxiety.

DO YOU DO DRUGS?: Never

DO YOU HAVE ANY ADDICTIONS?: None

DO YOU HAVE VIOLENT TENDENCIES?: No

DO YOU HAVE ANY SELF-DESTRUCTIVE TENDENCIES?: Overcritical over themselves, will talk down to themselves, can have body issues when in a deep depression.

MISC CHARACTER QUESTIONS.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S FAVORITE PHYSICAL ACTIVITY? Swimming is the only psychical activity that Clementine really enjoys. The calm feeling of being underwater and weightless, is why they joined a swim team after settling in with Collin. If there is a big space of water you most likely find Clementine there.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S LEAST FAVORITE PHYSICAL ACTIVITY? Yoga, they are never able to relax their mind enough to get through it. When your brain is never at ease it is hard for them to really get into it. 

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S FAVORITE WEATHER? A perfect day that is only about 78 degrees and there is a slight breeze. So you can wear ripped jeans with a fun band t-shirt. Some fall days where you need to wear a beanie and a hoodie to keep you warm, are also their favorite.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S FAVORITE SEASON? Spring, the colors from flowers and trees that bloom blow their mind. The weather is perfect for flannels and ripped up jeans. It’s during this time where they are in the best artistic state. 

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S LEAST FAVORITE SEASON? Being a lover of all things nature and evolving, it is only the holiday seasons that really bother them. Her PTSD gets really bad during these times and often they stay with people. A few people have made her warm up a little to this time. 

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S FONDEST CHILDHOOD MEMORY? There was this one Christmas where her dad was actually doing well. Her mother had a job and he seemed to be doing well on the new medications. That year not many gifts were given, but being able to see their father smile was something she never forgot.

SOMEONE ASKS YOUR CHARACTER TO DESCRIBE THEIR FAMILY. HOW DO THEY ANSWER? When talking about her biological parents it is really hard to describe. The resentment and anger that they feel towards their parents is a still a pretty fresh wound. Normally she will not tell people about them at al.  Collin however, is the who she will tell people about. Often he will be labeled as the father figure and the stories they share are talked about more often.

IS YOUR CHARACTER A MORNING PERSON, A NIGHT OWL, OR SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY? Clementine is a night owl and is often waking up at awful hours in the afternoon. With having sleep anxiety plus streaming happening normally at night, it just helps that night owl lifestyle thrive. 

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S LEAST FAVORITE COLOR? As an artist who loves mixing paints, there is none. All of the colors are amazing.

A STRANGER MAKES A CRUDE COMMENT TO YOUR CHARACTER. HOW DO THEY REACT? They will always ignore that person since, a lot of words have been thrown their way. When dealing with a father who blamed her for everything and being homeless, the slurs have been heard. Mean words can’t really hurt them unless it comes from someone really close. 

[mydrarryaus]

Password Fiasco-- A Drarry One-Shot based on an imagine thing I found

Ok so I found this imagine thinggy or whatever you call it, I’ll put it at the top of this, and I decided to write a one-shot off of it and ya let’s get right into it 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I would like to welcome all of you back. After suffering such heartache, coming back as a community, as a school, will be beneficial for us all. I have a few announcements and then the feast will commence” Headmistress McGonagall states as she pulls out a roll of parchment and clears her throat before continuing “To all incoming first years and ruler-breakers with a death sentence, the forbidden forest is, of course, forbidden, off-limits and every other word for do not enter. To all incoming students who are re-doing their seventh year as now eighth years will have their own dormitories, as there is not enough room in each of your respective houses and there is not enough of you to make an effort to make space. Finally, to all third to seventh years, Hogsmeade is open to you all every other Saturday to go at your leisure. Eighth years can go at any moment, as long as they do not go in lieu of class. That is all. Dig in!” she raises her arms at her last statement and the tables filled with food and everyone does exactly what she says and eats with enthusiasm.  Harry reaches over Ron’s overflowing plate to grab a bit of chicken when his hand collides with a very pale one. He looks up and locks eyes with a very flustered Malfoy, who retracts his hand and mutters under his breath. Harry doesn’t question it and finishes grabbing what he needs and eats. For some reason, Malfoy doesn’t bring him any negative feelings towards him anymore. Not after what he did to help Him, Ron and Hermione and when his mum had saved him from actually being killed by Voldemort. Harry smiles to himself as he thinks about Malfoy, unaware of his two friends watching him.  “Do you reckon he’s thinking of a certain someone?” Ron whispers to Hermione “I don’t know Ron, maybe he’s interested in someone. I mean, we all know how torn up he was after Ginny broke up with him. Maybe he’s finally over it. God knows he needs it.”  Ron nods in agreement before finishing off his food. Finally, after the feast, the Eighth years are led to a weird tower next to the Divination class. “Now” McGonagall starts “this is to be your dormitory. You will be rooming with someone not from your house, as to get you used to being all one group rather than your separate houses. The pairings go as follows. Miss Granger and Miss Parkinson. Mr. Nott and Mr. Longbottom. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Zabini. Mr. Boot and Mr. Finnigan. Miss Pavarti Patil and Miss Padma Patil. Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Thomas. Mr. Corner and Mr. Goyle. And finally Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy.” Everyone gapes at the Headmistress, wondering if she was crazy for pairing them up with who they had been paired with. Little did they know that the sorting hat was the one who paired them together. Like the cup, McGonagall put all of their names in the hat and each perfect pair had come out one by one. Imagine her surprise when school rivals Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy came out as the perfect pair. 

“The password to get into the rooms is unique to each person. This portrait here” she gestures to the empty frame “will be filled by Sirius Black.” Harry lets out a small gasp. Why would she do this? He fills mixed emotions towards this. On one hand, he gets to see Sirius every day, but on the other, he will be reminded of the guilt he feels towards his death. He takes a deep breath and looks up to see the headmistress looking at him, waiting for him to collect himself before continuing. He gives her a small smile, which she takes as her cue to continue. “As I said, Sirius Black will take this portrait and he has specific demands that each person has a unique password to, and i quote, ‘spice up his dull life as an inanimate object’“ Most everyone chuckles at his words. Harry looks around and sees Malfoy looking down at his shoes, a vacant look on his face. Harry frowns and makes a note to find out what was wrong. After McGonagall finishes telling them how Sirius was coming in tomorrow and that he would have a small meeting with each one of them, she lets them in and gestures to a board with writing on it attached to the wall “here is all the room assignments. I will see you tomorrow to sort out your scedules. Good evening.” she walks out without another word, and they all swarm the board finding the room numbers and rushing off to find it, wondering what it looked like and such. As the crowd cleared, all who were left was Harry and Malfoy. Malfoy stayed still while Harry goes and finds which room they were assigned. Room 7. He gestures with his head for Malfoy to follow him and they walk off in silence to their room. Harry slowly twists the doorknob and walks into a spacious room. He looks around and is in complete awe. He doesn’t realize how ridiculous he looks until he hears someone scoff. He quickly turns on his heels to glare at Malfoy.  “What?” Malfoy says innocently “You look weird, haven’t you had a bedroom before” he laughs at his joke before walking over to his bed. Harry plops on his bed, seemingly in thought, causing Malfoy to worry a bit. He didn’t mean to be rude, but its potter. Why would he get upset over a teasing remark over not have a bedroom. He’s the bloody chose one, of course, he has a bedroom. Hell, his family probably put him on such a pedestal all of his life.  “I didn't” he hears Potter whisper, leaving him confused. Didn’t what? “Didn’t what Potter?” Malfoy asks, no trace of venom in his voice. Just curiosity. Harry looks up and locks eyes with Malfoy, tears in his eyes. “I didn’t have a bedroom okay. I didn’t have a bloody bedroom” Harry looks down again, feeling ashamed for having admitted that to Draco Malfoy of all people. Malfoy just continues to look confused. “What, did you have like a full house to yourself or something?” He asks  “No, it was more like a cupboard,” Harry says after a few moments of silence. Draco sits on his bed in just utter disbelief. Then, without really realizing, he walks over and drapes his arm over Harry’s, yes Harry’s, shoulders and pulls him into a hug as he starts to cry out of embarrassment and hurt at how his only true family treated him. And that’s when they became friends. 

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*a few months later* 

Draco walks up to the portrait reluctantly. Lately, Sirius had been changing his password to stupid things he would never dare to say in front of anyone. He had to eventually take to showing up either at the back of a group of people or by himself with no one around. Thankfully, this was one of those alone times. Harry had left the library early from their studying session instead of staying the full time, claiming he had to go do something. 

“paassswwooorrdd” Sirius dramatically says, causing Draco to roll his eyes  “Must we do this. You change it every time anyways” Draco says, causing Sirius to laugh. “Of course, dear cousin, I simply love our interactions. Now, password please” 

Draco just sighs before going down the neverending list he has accumulated from all the times Sirius has changed it. 

“I've got a wand up my arse,” he says with a sigh. Sirius giggles and shakes his head, awaiting the rest of them. In the end Draco is beyond irritated. “Merlin help me, why won't you just tell me what it is??”  “Fine, i will give you the new one. Harry Potter has the prettiest eyes” Draco’s eyes widen at this. Of course, he knows how pretty Harry’s eyes are, he just didn’t know a stupid PORTRAIT knew he knew. He gulps before speaking “I will say no such thing” Sirius makes a tsk-ing sound. “Now you very well do know how pretty Harry’s eyes are. Heard you talking about them in your room the other day” he said with a smirk, a blush covering his face. “That was private Sirius!” he exclaims, which proves only to make Sirius laugh. “Sorry kid, you gotta say it to get into the rooms. Rules are rules” 

Draco lets out a groan before finally saying “ Harry Potter has the prettiest eyes”  Sirius claps “see, was that so hard?” Draco just ignores him and pushes past him. Pretty soon, it's an everyday thing. Instead of accepting the whole group with one Password, he starts to make them all say theirs. Including Draco. So he stays to the back each and every time. It's on the 8th consecutive day in which he fully wishes he hadn’t come back to Hogwarts. “Password?” Sirius asks with a giggle, not looking Draco in the eyes but rather over his head, for whatever reason.  “Harry Potter has the prettiest eyes” “Nope” “I wish Harry Potter would snog me “While i know you want that and all, that is not the Password” Draco groans “Harry Potter is the Love of my life” Sirius smirks before leaving his portrait, not bothering to open it, leaving Draco very confused until he smells it.  “Draco?” Harry’s voice sounds out, his perfect scent of spices and grass filling his senses.  “yes, Harry?” Draco asks, turning around to face him, trying to look as if nothing was wrong.  “Why were saying all of that?” he asks curiously. Draco’s face gets beet red and before he can think his thoughts through he spits it all out. From when Sirius popped into the portrait he had in their room and heard him compliment Harry’s eyes to when he was just spouting one password after another. After he finishes, he hangs his head in embarrassment. His face getting more and more red as Harry starts to laugh. “Fine then Potter if you think it’s so funny, don't talk to me anymore.” Draco pries open the empty portrait and storms off to their room. How could he have been so stupid. Harry laughed at him. He was so stupid to think Har- Potter would ever share his feelings. As Draco fumed alone in the room he shared with Harry, Harry stayed frozen in his spot outside of the portrait. He wasn’t laughing at him at all, just at the situation. Because little did Draco know that Sirius was doing the same thing to Harry. Making him admit things like his growing crush on Draco and such, changing his passwords to say silly things like Draco had to. Harry quickly realizes something. Draco likes him? He rushes in, ignoring the calls of his friends, and heads to his room. He quickly opens the door to see an angry and pacing Draco. “Don’t come near me Potter. I don’t need to hear it” But Harry doesn’t listen. He just slowly closes the door, locks it, and sets up a silencing charm all wandlessly. “Potter what are you doing?” Harry continues to ignore him. He walks up to Draco, who walks backwards until his back hits the back wall. Harry reaches up and cups Draco’s cheek. “You know you can be a downright git sometimes right” Draco just gulps nervously, wondering what the hell was happening. Slowly Harry leans in and presses his lips against Draco’s, and Draco and can’t help but close his eyes. He has been waiting so long for this moment. Slowly, at first, they kiss. Lips parting and closing together, as if in a dance with each other. But pretty soon Harry deepens the kiss and pushes Draco into the wall, showing his feelings through his actions. They part, both breathing heavily, and they gaze into each others eyes.  “Wow,” Draco whispers, making Harry softly laugh in that way Draco really loves. “Wow indeed.”  “So what does this mean?” Draco asks, scared that this may be a one-time thing “Well, assuming you share my affections, will you go out with me? Be my boyfriend?” Harry asks, a small smile playing on his lips. All Draco can do is give a small nod before capturing Harry’s lips with his own. “You know, you are very addicting. Don’t expect to get rid of me any time soon” Draco says after they part again. “Wouldn’t plan on it Draco” Harry retorts. They kiss well into the night, feeling whole for the first time in a while. 

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Thank you so much for reading! Let me know in the comments what you thought of this, please like and follow for more!! :)

[multimetaverse]

Andi Mack 2x23 Review

I was shocked at how pivotal Keep a Lid on It turned out to be! J*rus sunk and Juffy rose and a lot of other interesting stuff. Let’s dig into it.

Positives:

Cyrus’ crush on Jonah was always going to end with him either moving on or getting turned down by straight boy Jonah and I’m glad they went with the former. It gives Cyrus more control over his own life and shows great character growth. He no longer idolizes Jonah but cherishes their close friendship.

I thought J*rus would end closer to the end of the season but in retrospect it’s clear that the show had to sink the ship sooner rather than later. It’s been 10 eps since their last solo scene and they’ve only had solo scenes in 6 out of 23 eps so far (including the space otters dinner in what was 1x13). Terri talks a big game about the importance of momentum and it’s clear that Cyrus’ story line was being stalled until his crush on Jonah ended. 

I noted last week that the show was reaching back to S1 with Cyrus in the vest and we also got Jonah calling Cyrus, Cy-Guy for the first time since S1 I believe as well as a callback to their hug at the space otters dinner.. It’s a very deliberate choice and allows the audience to see the growth and change in their relationship, Cyrus no longer worships Jonah and Jonah has largely dropped his smiley perfect image.

I know some people are still clinging to hope but guys J*rus is over. It was never going to happen, not on this show and not on this network. Hell Terri probably never even asked Disney if Jonah could be bi because she probably never intended him to be bi. Cyrus’ crush was always just a plot device to discover his sexuality. And if you don’t want to listen to the show, listen to Josh, he’s very bluntly told us that J*rus is a dead ship. Take time to heal and then hop aboard Cyrus’ real romantic ship: Tyrus.

I felt a sense of vindication as Juffy rose, I got a lot of scorn for predicting after the 2b promo that Jonah was going to be Buffy’s crush. And so many people told me that the yearbook wasn’t connected to the crush or that she didn’t actually have a crush or that her crush was on some irrelevant extra. But here we are and Juffy is thriving.

I had a moment of doubt last week after learning that Jandi survives past the art show but after seeing 2x23 I’m confident that Juffy is endgame. And yes I’ve seen the extended 2x24 promo and I don’t think that her crush is on Walker. Will she talk to Walker? Almost certainly but Jonah will also be there and I’m sure she’ll talk to him too. I have other reasons why I don’t think Wuffy is in the cards but first I want to talk more about Juffy in this episode.

I’ve been beating the drumbeat about Buffy’s impending crush since 2x15 and until tonight I thought it would be a disaster but I actually think that Juffy will work very well. Buffy knows exactly how to communicate directly with Jonah, something Andi never was able to. It also makes for a neat parallel with 2x22 where Tyrus communicated well while Jandi struggled as usual. And in this ep we also get to see Ham and Celia not communicating well.

When Jonah came over and he and Buffy had their  brief banter it immediately reminded me of that easy chemistry Muffy had. Obviously the show never planned for Juffy but they lucked out big time that the actors have great chemistry. It can’t be ignored how touched Buffy is that Jonah thought of the unburied time capsule and went to such lengths to get her jersey and get the whole team to sign the ball.

And who do they bring up right after talking about Jonah? Marty, Buffy’s old flame. Buffy and the audience get a final bit of closure and it helpfully reminds us that Buffy was sure that she didn’t have a crush on Marty but later this ep she is very sure that she now has a crush on someone. And when she tells Cyrus she has a crush she specifically mentions that it’s new.

Let’s assume for a moment that her crush actually is on Walker. Why would she not want Andi to know? Andi already kissed Jonah and chose him before she moved away. Sure it might be a little awkward at first but Jandi is now official and Andi only went on the one date with Walker so it’s not like she has any claim on him. Jandi, Tyrus, and Wuffy would be neat and tidy but where’s the drama, the angst, the passion? And why would she say that nothing is going to happen? As far as she knows Walker is single, there’s nothing stopping a confident driven woman like Buffy from pursuing Walker if she has a crush on him.

Andi Mack is a tween soap opera and it relies on its twists and turns. I just can’t see what pairing Buffy would Walker would achieve. They’ve had one scene together and they barely talked. Sure the portrait was nice but what kind of connection do they have? And why would Buffy suddenly develop a crush on Walker after learning about the nice things Jonah did for her? And if Wuffy happens that means that Jandi and Tyrus are endgame so why is there a need to pair Buffy with someone? Darius is great but wouldn’t it be easier and cheaper for the show to write him off and just have Buffy stay single?

Which brings me to the big structural reason why I believe Juffy is endgame. Buffy having a crush was a late addition to S2 only because Marty left. If Marty stays then Muffy would have been endgame but with him gone Buffy doesn’t have a partner. Cyrus was always going to end up with TJ so he’s taken care of which just leaves Andi and Jonah. Given how linked Jandi and J*rus have been since the very beginning I think J*rus sinking means that Jandi is doomed soon, even if they make it out of S2 still together. And of course Cyrus has the swing scenes with his endgame partner TJ just two eps before Andi meets her endgame partner Walker.

I think Terri’s original plan was for Muffy, Tyrus, and Wandi to be endgame while Jonah remained single in S3. This would have been a great twist, sinking the two original ships of the show and removing Jonah, who was explicitly introduced as a love interest, from the dating pool. This leaves 3/4ths of the kids in relationships which the show can mine for drama. But once Marty left, Buffy was left without and partner and suddenly you have half of the kids left single which is difficult for a tween oriented show to pull off. And of course Asher’s star has risen dramatically since S1 and Disney almost certainly wants their hottest star to remain a love interest.

Terri has spoken very negatively about Jandi in the past and I can’t imagine her making them endgame unless Disney forced her too. But paring Buffy with Jonah solves those problems: Terri still gets her big twist, half of the kids wont be left without partners, and Disney still gets to market Asher as a romantic lead. Whereas if Jandi is endgame there’s no need to give Buffy a crush as 3/4th’s of the kids will still have partners.

We don’t know when the writers knew for sure that Marty was never coming back but it must have been by the writing of ep 2x21 by the latest as that’s when they wrote that farewell letter from Marty. Not coincidentally it’s also the ep where we get Jonah’s ‘’Buffy likes me doesn’t she?’’ line and we see him spring into action and get Buffy the perfect gift, something he’s never been able to do for Andi.

And Jonah has had foreshadowy lines like that before. In 2x18 he asks if TJ are Cyrus are friends and later that same ep he asks if Bex and Bowie are getting married. We know that Cyrus and TJ will be more than friends and we know that Bex and Bowie will get married so why not Buffy having a crush on Jonah?

We also got Buffy referencing arm wrestling with Jonah which led to their only significant solo interaction back in A Good Hair Day. It reminded me of when Cyrus referenced meeting TJ at the swings when he and Buffy were comforting Jonah in 2x19. The show wanted us to think about the swing scene and what it meant and the show now wants us to think about the arm wrestling scene and what it meant. Juffy at least has some foundation but there’s nothing to support Wuffy.

My guess is that we’ll either get a half assed denial from Buffy next ep that she doesn’t like Jonah or it won’t be brought up directly but Cyrus will keep needling her. And Cyrus knows very well what having a crush on Jonah is like and would understand why Buffy doesn’t believe anything will happen or why she doesn’t want Andi to know. Next ep is also where we’ll get Buffy’s ‘’you two look so cute’’ line delivered to Jandi at the spoon. What did Cyrus do once he realized he liked Jonah? Hid it and became the world’s no 1 Jandi shipper. Perhaps we’ll see Buffy do the same.

One last reason I believe Jandi is doomed is because Andi didn’t make a new bracelet she took the old one from her memory box (ie from S1). But just like Cyrus’ vest wasn’t a magic totem neither will the bracelet be the totem that solves Jandi’s problems. 

I also thought it was a subtle nod to digging up the past and a little hint that we’ll be seeing Gabriel return from Bex’s past (and memory box) in the season finale.

I’m so glad that they didn’t mention the stupid 2 months timeskip. Someone must have realized what a disaster that would be.  And the excuse for Buffy moving back was a lot better than i thought it would be.

I wonder how Cyrus will come out in the future. He can’t say he has a crush on Jonah anymore but he at least has the swing that way reference to use with Tj, or TJ with him.

Negatives:

Not going to sugarcoat this; we just saw Ham have a midlife crisis and effectively decide to end his marriage and abandon his family. Of course he’ll be back and the show will pretend all is well but no man in his mid 50′s leaves his wife and family to go on a months long solo trip unless his marriage has collapsed. A lot of kids will be turning to their parents tonight asking if Ham leaving means he and Celia will be getting a divorce.

One thing I’ve been wondering all season is why haven’t we seen Cyrus in his vest friend shirt? At this point I think Disney forbade it because it would look too coupley. 

[hermankarlsson55-blog]

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[copiegrandeurnature]

Imagining our alternate selves can be fuel for fantasy or fodder for regret. Most of us aren’t haunted so acutely by the people we might have been. But, perhaps for a morning or a month, our lives can still thrum with the knowledge that it could have been otherwise. 

“The thought that I might have become someone else is so bland that dwelling on it sometimes seems fatuous,” the literary scholar Andrew H. Miller writes, in “On Not Being Someone Else: Tales of Our Unled Lives” (Harvard). Still, phrased the right way, the thought has an insistent, uncanny magnetism. Miller’s book is, among other things, a compendium of expressions of wonder over what might have been. Miller quotes Clifford Geertz, who, in “The Interpretation of Cultures,” wrote that “one of the most significant facts about us may finally be that we all begin with the natural equipment to live a thousand kinds of life but end in the end having lived only one.” He cites the critic William Empson: “There is more in the child than any man has been able to keep.” We have unlived lives for all sorts of reasons: because we make choices; because society constrains us; because events force our hand; most of all, because we are singular individuals, becoming more so with time. “While growth realizes, it narrows,” Miller writes. “Plural possibilities simmer down.” This is painful, but it’s an odd kind of pain—hypothetical, paradoxical. Even as we regret who we haven’t become, we value who we are. We seem to find meaning in what’s never happened. Our self-portraits use a lot of negative space.

“You may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife,” David Byrne sings, in the Talking Heads song “Once in a Lifetime.” “And you may ask yourself, ‘Well, how did I get here?’ ” Maybe you feel suddenly pushed around by your life, and wonder if you could have willed it into a different shape. Perhaps you suddenly remember, as Hilary Mantel did, that you have another self “filed in a drawer of your consciousness, like a short story that wouldn’t work after the opening lines.” Today, your life is irritating, like an ill-fitting garment; you can’t forget it’s there. “You may tell yourself, ‘This is not my beautiful house. . . . This is not my beautiful wife,’ ” Byrne sings. Swept up in our real lives, we quickly forget about the unreal ones. Still, there will be moments when, for good or for ill, we feel confronted by our unrealized possibilities; they may even, through their persistence, shape us. Practitioners of mindfulness tell us that we should look away, returning our gaze to the actual, the here and now. But we might have the opposite impulse, as Miller does. He wants us to wander in the hall of mirrors—to let our imagined selves “linger longer and say more.” What can our unreal selves say about our real ones?

It’s likely, Miller thinks, that capitalism, “with its isolation of individuals and its accelerating generation of choices and chances,” has increased the number of our unlived lives. “The elevation of choice as an absolute good, the experience of chance as a strange affront, the increasing number of exciting, stultifying decisions we must make, the review of the past to improve future outcomes”—all these “feed the people we’re not.” Advertisers sell us things by getting us to imagine better versions of ourselves, even though there’s only one life to live: it’s “yolo + fomo,” a friend tells Miller, summing up the situation nicely. The nature of work deepens the problem. “Unlike the agricultural and industrial societies that preceded it,” Miller writes, our “professional society” is “made up of specialized careers, ladders of achievement.” You make your choice, forgoing others: year by year, you “clamber up into your future,” thinking back on the ladders unclimbed.

Historic events generate unlived lives. Years from now, we may wonder where we would be if the coronavirus pandemic hadn’t shifted us onto new courses. Sometimes we can see another life opening out to one side, like a freeway exit. Miller recounts the sad history of Jack and Ennis, the cowboys in Annie Proulx’s story “Brokeback Mountain,” who are in love but live in Wyoming in the nineteen-sixties and seventies, and so must hide it. They disagree about how to understand their predicament. Ennis has no “serious hard feelings,” Proulx tells us. “Just a vague sense of getting short-changed.” But Jack, Miller writes, “is haunted by the lives they might have led together, running a little ranch or living in Mexico, somewhere away from civilization and its systematic and personal violence.” Jack tells Ennis, “We could a had a good life together, a fuckin real good life.” The existence he has is spoiled by the one he doesn’t.

It makes sense for Jack to dwell on how things might have turned out in a better world. And yet we can have the same kinds of thoughts even when we’re basically happy with our lives. The philosopher Charles Taylor, who has written much about the history of selfhood, has a theory about why we can’t just accept the way things are: he thinks that sometime toward the end of the eighteenth century two big trends in our self-understanding converged. We learned to think of ourselves as “deep” individuals, with hidden wellsprings of feeling and talent that we owed it to ourselves to find. At the same time, we came to see ourselves objectively—as somewhat interchangeable members of the same species and of a competitive mass society. Subjectivity and objectivity both grew more intense. We came to feel that our lives, pictured from the outside, failed to reflect the vibrancy within.

A whole art form—the novel—has been dedicated to exploring this dynamic. Novelists often show us people who, trapped by circumstances, struggle to live their “real” lives. Such a struggle can be Escher-like; a “real” life is one in which a person no longer yearns to find herself, and yet the work of finding oneself is itself a source of meaning. In Tolstoy’s “Anna Karenina,” Anna, caught in a boring marriage, destroys her life in an attempt to build a more passionate, authentic one with Count Vronsky. All the while, Levin, the novel’s other hero, is so confused about how to live that he longs for the kind of boring, automatic life that Anna left behind. Part of the work of being a modern person seems to be dreaming of alternate lives in which you don’t have to dream of alternate lives. We long to stop longing, but we also wring purpose from that desire.

An “unled” life sounds like one we might wish to lead—shoulda, coulda, woulda. But, while I’m conscious of my unlived lives, I don’t wish to have led one. In fact, as the father of a two-year-old, I find the prospect frightening. In “Midlife: A Philosophical Guide,” the philosopher Kieran Setiya points out that, thanks to the “butterfly effect,” even minor alterations to our pasts would likely have major effects on our presents. 

Sartre thought we should focus on what we have done and will do, rather than on what we might have done or could do. He pointed out that we often take too narrow a census of our actions. An artist, he maintains, is not to be “judged solely by his works of art, for a thousand other things also help to define him.” We do more than we give ourselves credit for; our real lives are richer than we think. This is why, if you keep a diary, you may feel more satisfied with the life you live. And yet you may still wonder at the particular shape of that life; all stories have turning points, and it’s hard not to fixate on them.

Miller quotes the poem “Veracruz,” by George Stanley, in full. It opens by the sea in Mexico, where Stanley is walking on an esplanade. He thinks of how his father once walked on a similar esplanade in Cuba. Step by step, he imagines alternative lives for his father and for himself. What if his dad had moved to San Francisco and “married / not my mother, but her brother, whom he truly loved”? What if his father had transformed himself into a woman, and Stanley had been the child of his father and his uncle? Maybe he would have been born female, and “grown up in San Francisco as a girl, / a tall, serious girl.” If all that had happened, then today, walking by the sea in Mexico, he might be able to meet a sailor, have an affair, and “give birth at last to my son—the boy / I love.”

“Veracruz” reminds me of the people I know who believe in past lives, and of stories like the one David Lynch tells in “Twin Peaks,” in which people seem to step between alternate lives without knowing it. Such stories satisfy us deeply because they reconcile contrary ideas we have about ourselves and our souls. On the one hand, we understand that we could have turned out any number of ways; we know that we aren’t the only possible versions of ourselves. But, on the other, we feel that there is some fundamental light within us—a filament that burns, with its own special character, from birth to death. We want to think that, whoever we might have been, we would have burned with the same light. At the end of “Veracruz,” the poet comes home to the same son.

As Sartre says, we are who we are. But isn’t the negative space in a portrait part of that portrait? In the sense that our unled lives have been imagined by us, and are part of us, they are real; to know what someone isn’t—what she might have been, what she’s dreamed of being—this is to know someone intimately. When we first meet people, we know them as they are, but, with time, we perceive the auras of possibility that surround them. Miller describes the emotion this experience evokes as “beauty and heartbreak together.”

The novel I think of whenever I have this feeling is Virginia Woolf’s “To the Lighthouse.” Mrs. Ramsay, its central character, is the mother of eight children; the linchpin of her family, she is immersed in the practicalities of her crowded, communal life. Still, even as she attends to the particulars—the morning’s excursion, the evening’s dinner—she senses that they are only placeholders, or handles with which she can grasp something bigger. The details of life seem to her both worthy of attention and somehow arbitrary; the meaning of the whole feels tied up in its elusiveness. One night, she is sitting at dinner, surrounded by her children and her guests. She listens to her husband talking about poetry and philosophy; she watches her children whisper some private joke. (She can’t know that two of them will die: a daughter in childbirth, a son in the First World War.) Then she softens her focus. “She looked at the window in which the candle flames burnt brighter now that the panes were black,” Woolf writes, “and looking at that outside the voices came to her very strangely, as if they were voices at a service in a cathedral.” In this inner quiet, lines of poetry sound:

And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be Are full of trees and changing leaves.

Mrs. Ramsay isn’t quite sure what these lines mean, and doesn’t know if she invented them, has just heard them, or is remembering them. Still, Woolf writes, “like music, the words seemed to be spoken by her own voice, outside her self, saying quite easily and naturally what had been in her mind the whole evening while she said different things.” We all dwell in the here and now; we all have actual selves, actual lives. But what are they? Selves and lives have penumbras and possibilities—that’s what’s unique about them. They are always changing, and so are always new; they refuse to stand still. We live in anticipation of their meaning, which will inevitably exceed what can be known or said. Much must be left unsaid, unseen, unlived.

Excerpt from: Joshua Rothman, ‘What If You Could Do It All Over? The uncanny allure of our unlived lives’, in: The New Yorker (December 14, 2020).

[smatchessays]

Final Reflections: An Essay on Photography, Social Media and Tourism Culture

The last country I visited during my travels was Vietnam. A mesmerizing country full of beauty, culture, intrigue. Though I try, no words can really describe my feelings towards nor experience there. This is true of all four countries I was lucky enough to explore during my time away: Vietnam, Indonesia, the Philippines and Cambodia. Perhaps photos do a better job communicating my  experiences of these places; I believed this to be true. I chose photography to document and share my days wandering Southeast Asia, deciding this medium alone would communicate more elegantly and accurately anything I could attempt to describe. On one of the last days of my journey, in Ho Chi Minh city, while wandering the War Remnants museum, I found myself deeply pondering the gravity of photography and its capabilities. While observing one of the exhibitions on the second floor, encapsulated by photographs depicting the devastation the war caused the Vietnamese people, I was struck by the importance of photos; what they have to uncover about history, culture and that which is unknown from diverging perspectives. It was then I realized my faults and failures in my own attempts to visually capture the countries I was discovering for the first time. I found myself feeling that I had not accurately depicted my experience of these places through my photos; that I had not expressed a comprehensive reality of what I saw nor felt during my months away. The bridging idea into this thought was the realization that in this blog I had failed to represent the people whose countries I was visiting. I was standing in a room filled with the piercing eyes of the Vietnamese people whom the war tore apart and in that moment I was faced with the reality that I had left out of my representations of Indonesia, the Philippines, Cambodia and Vietnam that which is most important and real about these places: their people. I had not portrayed enough the individuals and families whose beauty my photos belonged to. I was, in many ways, erasing their existence from my experience, or at least that which I was curating back to the few of you that have seen this blog or may in the future. As I came to this understanding, a cloud of shame came over me, accepting that I had not captured these countries wholly nor honestly. Being a sociology major my brain is constantly geared towards questions of how society influences us and vice versa. Though I try to convince myself of my right to express myself freely and artistically without bounds, I am painfully aware of how my actions contribute to and affect the culture and people I interact with. It would be simple to let these photos speak for themselves and for me to sit back and present them as art. But they are not simply so. What we put into public spaces for consumptions has great effects. What we share, display, perpetuate or withhold all make lasting impressions; whether we are willing to acknowledge it or not. Besides the people, there is much I left out of my blog that I now regret. What were those things? I think the answer is more simple than I would like it to be. What I did not share in this photography blog were the things during my journey which I did not understand; that which did not fit into the mysterious and alluring portrait I was attempting to paint back to you. This includes the things that made my experience difficult, uncomfortable and unclear. For example: the pervasive poverty, environmental destruction, rampant pollution, overtaking tourism, and spreading westernization. I also excluded a comprehensive understanding of the cultures, systems, and religions I encountered as well as a true connection to the individuals of these places due to to not attaining them. Though my blog was not completely devoid of such truths (certain filtered instances can be observed within its content) the few instances I did show were by no means representative of their overarching existence. Instead what did I show? I suppose, in my mind, I fell into the traveler or tourist trap of displaying images that highlight more so what these countries had to offer me versus how they exist on their own. I, as many people seem to do, wanted to show what I found visually beautiful, captivating, exciting, and unique. As well, that which I felt would reflect a positive artistic vision of myself. The growing tourism and social media culture in Southeast Asia sits very uneasily with me. Although I acknowledge the positive economic prosperity tourism brings to these impoverished countries I also can’t help but feel like this industry is creating new problems for these cultures and their people. A huge part of the lives of many locales includes catering to the experiences of foreigners; their livelihood dependent on the vacation experience of others who have a much different economic realities than themselves. The inequality is unequivocally visible. It cannot hide, though it seems to be ignored. Many of the travelers I encountered, including myself, entered these countries for a new experience, to gain, to consume. We take what we need and see what we wish to see and that is usually what is shown back to the world through social media. In the end, what I posted says more about me as an individual in these countries and cultures, than the cultures themselves. These photos are a presentation of my perspective, that which is biased and perpetuates prejudice and ignorance at times (as mentioned in the way I left out an understanding of the cultures, representation of the people and displays of the inequality). Of course I cannot escape my position in the world, and should not apologize for it, but I do have the responsibility to challenge myself and expand my perspective as much as I can. I acknowledge that having a camera and method of sharing my photos gives me a responsibility, one that I think many people don’t realize they have. If I could go back I would have put in a greater effort to understand the cultures and people I was experiencing and communicate those things back to my followers at home. I would show all of what I saw, not just that which I found visually appealing or palpable. I would also document the inequality more effectively; for example, the way westernization and tourism is altering the cultures I encountered. Having documentations of these realities would allow those who are unable to travel to these places more honest perceptions. I did not go into my travels nor blog with any sort of expectations nor goals in mind for what I was trying to accomplish. These criticisms of myself are solely being made in hindsight. Therefore, I am not angered with myself, simply unpacking my actions for a new direction in the future. I must also acknowledge that this photo blog has a very limited following, one which will likely never grow. I do not believe that anyone is looking to this site for information about these countries nor to learn more about the citizens and their traditions. I am not trying to say what I posted alone has much influence on anything or anyone. However; what I put out in the world, as mentioned, still contributes to the larger culture perceptions of these countries. No matter how small this contribution, it still exists and I want to be on the honest and positive side of their representations. What are the consequences of my failings? Of course the effects of media on culture and society are immeasurable for several reasons, so I can only project ideas of what negativity my faults may contribute to. In general, I think photos that are constantly devoid of the true poverty that exists in Southeast Asia allow people to ignore their privilege and responsibility to said countries. I believe it very easy to ignore poverty and corrupt governments and economies when they exist across the world, but to continue to ignore them when you are in them and communicating that ignorance back to your home is irresponsible. The same is true for the pollution and environmental destruction that I witnessed (which of course is greatly tied to the economic status of these places). Lacking inclusion of the citizens of the countries I visited in my documentations contributes to the erasure of their people in media and culture. There exists already inadequate diversity in North American media, contributing to this further on social media adds to the problem and displays our racist tendencies. Again, my photos may have only added to such problems in a very insignificant way on their own, but in the larger cultural context they mean something. Being someone who considers themselves socially aware I should have taken more responsibility in what I posted, which is what I am attempting to do now. To sum up my thoughts, I wish to acknowledge my understanding of photography’s weight in our culture. I believe photos by their very nature to be divisive and manipulative. Though their interpretations are infinite, their perspectives are solitary and belongs to the photographer. Though an audience can’t be forced to look at a photograph in a specific way, what they look at, what is presented in the photograph, is concrete and therefore contains the capacity to probe certain meanings. This is due to the ability of photography to isolate moments, ideas and experiences from the noise of the world. Sometimes this power can be used for good; allowing us to see beauty in the ordinary or allowing us a perspective we may have not have otherwise been able to gain. This power, however, also has the capability to cause harm if not exercised thoughtfully, as discussed throughout this text. At the end of the day I want to take responsibility for what I put into the world and constantly challenge myself to expand my own perspective. I want to contribute to positive and accurate representations that lean culture towards a more inclusive, open and understanding direction. I think as consumers and content creators in this new media sphere we all have these responsibilities. I will not stop looking at my own failings and won’t stop trying to unpack them. I also, unfortunately, won’t stop making mistakes and falling trap to my own ignorance. It’s what I and we do with our mistakes going forward, however, that is most important.

[thecarexpertuk]

What is it? The Renault Koleos is an all-new large SUV to sit above the Captur and Kadjar models. Key features: Quality interior, lots of space, plentiful equipment. Our View: The Renault Koleos is an effective new SUV which may surprise buyers in an overcrowded market. Type of Review: First UK drive

Renault Koleos – have we not been here before? Yes – the first Koleos was a compact SUV launched by Renault in 2007. By 2010 it had been withdrawn from the UK market, because nobody was buying it – less than 2,600 finding owners.

That was then, however, and this is now. In the time since the crossover market has mushroomed. Today everybody it seems wants one, and the cars they are abandoning most for crossovers are MPVs – which Renault used to sell lots of.

The French brand has already plunged into the compact SUV market with the Captur and Kadjar models – now the Renault Koleos arrives as a larger sister with the emphasis on upmarket. This is designed to be a halo model – Renault is offering it in five-seater form only, and expects only modest numbers of sales for the car.

Introduction | Design | Powertrains | On the Road | Equipment | Summary and Specifications

Introduction | Design | Powertrains | On the Road | Equipment | Summary and Specifications

Exterior and Interior

The Koleos takes its exterior design cues from Renault’s executive-class offerings, principally the Talisman, a model one can’t buy in the UK because evidence suggests we no longer like large, French cars. The SUV that results is quite attractive – the exterior visuals don’t exactly say anything new, but the profile is muscular and purposeful without being outlandish.

Common to the Koleos and the Talisman is the platform. Both use the Renault-Nissan Alliance Common Module Family unit, which also underpins the Kadjar, Megane, Scenic – and the Nissan X-Trail which is one of the direct rivals to the Koleos.

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Renault says that the major focus when designing the new car was interior space – which is why despite sitting on one of the longest wheelbases in the class at 2710mm, the model is only being offered as a five-seater. If you want seven seats, they say, you can buy the Grand Scenic MPV…

There certainly is a lot of space, except in one area, rear seat headroom being somewhat cosy. But one can easily stretch the legs out and get comfortable in front or rear. The boot of 579 litres is among the larger in the class – more than the X-Trail, although less than in the Skoda Kodiaq (which by the way you can buy as a seven-seater). Mind you, the Koleos does boast a whole load of extra storage dotted around the car.

When you do stretch out and look around, you will find yourself in quality surroundings. The interior is both well designed and well put together, creating the premium impression that Renault strived for.

Dominating the driver’s controls is the centre console. Cars on the launch event were all to the top-level Signature trim, which sees Renault following the lead of Volvo (or perhaps Tesla?) in turning the screen to a much more practical portrait format – we predict many other manufacturers will follow suit.

The touchscreen is a big 8.7-inch unit with equally big buttons on it, making use on the move easy and reducing the number of extra controls, which in turn creates a clean, uncluttered console. Lower-spec Dynamique trim models get a seven-inch landscape version which we have yet to try.

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Introduction | Design | Powertrains | On the Road | Equipment | Summary and Specifications

Read more Renault news, reviews and features at The Car Expert

Introduction | Design | Powertrains | On the Road | Equipment | Summary and Specifications

Powertrains

Powertrain choices for the Renault Koleos are pretty simple, at least for now. They consist of two diesel units, a 1.6-litre with 130hp, and a 2.0-litre with 175hp. The 1.6 is matched to a front-wheel-drive transmission only, the 2.0 only to all-wheel-drive, though one gets a choice with this unit of a six-speed manual or seven-speed X-

The 1.6 is matched to a front-wheel-drive transmission only, the 2.0 only to all-wheel-drive, though one gets a choice with this unit of a six-speed manual or seven-speed X-tronic auto gearbox.

Less than a year ago, the lack of a petrol option might not have raised an eyebrow, as virtually all SUVs were bought with diesel propulsion. But the market is changing very quickly in the face of negative, and in many cases politcally-led, publicity being thrown at diesel engines.

As this is written, sales of such units in the UK have plummeted 20% in the last month, which is the fourth month in a row to see falls of such a magnitude.

Renault is unfazed, however – the Koleos is available with petrol power in other markets, and apparently such versions could easily be added to the UK right-hand market if required. We reckon that decision won’t be long in coming…

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On the road

The test cars for the UK launch event were all fitted with the top spec 175hp 2-litre engine, all-wheel-drive and auto transmission.

The X-tronic gearbox is actually a CVT (Continuously Variable Transmission), and traditionally such units have been pretty poor. Renault insists this one is “unlike previous CVTs” and under sharp acceleration acts more like an auto with multiple ratios. It is better, yes, though this reviewer would still prefer a twin-clutch DSG-style unit.

Unsurprisingly the engine does not lack in pace – the fastest 0-62mph time is achieved with the X-tronic and dips under 10 seconds. It is a refined unit too, and on the motorway the Koleos cruises in an assured manner that achieves the premium experience Renault was aiming at.

It’s a comfortable car to travel in, the chassis tuning clearly majoring on cosseting the occupants rather than attacking corners. Once in the bends, however, what is a big car stays pleasingly upright, and the steering feels confident and predictable. Overall it’s a pleasant, rather than exciting, experience.

Renault also took the opportunity on the launch event to demonstrate the off-road prowess of the Koleos. Included in 4×4 versions of the car is a lock mode, engaging permanent all-wheel-drive at speeds under 25mph. With this selected, climbing quite steep muddy tracks, and even restarting from stationary on them, is a task of ease. Mind you, it is also a task very few examples of the Koleos are ever likely to be asked to perform…

Introduction | Design | Powertrains | On the Road | Equipment | Summary and Specifications

Read more Renault news, reviews and features at The Car Expert

Introduction | Design | Powertrains | On the Road | Equipment | Summary and Specifications

Equipment

The upmarket positioning of the Renault Koleos is reflected in its trim levels. The car is available only in Dynamique S Nav or Signature Nav trims, which are the upper levels on other Renault models.

Cars on the launch were only in the top Signature trim, the highlight of which in this reviewer’s opinion is the portrait-format touchscreen. It also includes such niceties as black leather upholstery, front heated seats with electronic adjustment on the driver’s seat, and even the means to open the tailgate by waving one’s foot under it, Monty Python style.

Yet, leaving aside the touchscreen, the lower Dynamique level appears to offer all one needs, while cutting the price tag by £2,300.

It includes a pleasing level of equipment, notable elements including parking sensors front and rear with a rear camera, auto headlamps and wipers, a panoramic sunroof, dual-zone climate control and connectivity to a similar level as the Signature, just with a smaller, horizontal screen.

The safety specification is impressive too – among the active features on all models are blind spot and lane departure warnings, emergency braking and traffic sign recognition. And all cars also get Renault’s four-year warranty.

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Summary

In the Koleos, Renault has created a very good SUV, and one with enough upmarket features to justify its pitch as the halo model of the brand’s crossover line-up. It doesn’t make headlines, it simply performs very effectively in every area it needs to.

The problem Renault will have is that the crossover market is now very crowded, and there are plenty of other cars to choose from. Quite simply, buyers may not consider the Renault Koleos, because they will not expect it to be quite as complete a package as it is.

Renault Koleos – key specifications

Models Tested: Renault Koleos Signature dCi 175 4×4 X-Tronic On Sale: July 2017 Range price: £27,500-£34,200 Insurance groups: 18E-23E Engines: Diesel 1.6, 2.0. Power (hp): 130, 175. Torque (Nm): 320, 380. 0-62mph (sec): 11.4, 10.7 (9.5*). Top speed (mph): 115, 126 (125*). Fuel economy (combined, mpg): 57.6, 50.4 (47.9*). CO2 emissions (g/km): 128, 148 (156*). Key rivals: Nissan X-Trail, Ford Edge, Skoda Kodiaq, Kia Sorento Test Date: July 2017. * = with X-Tronic auto gearbox.

Read more Renault news, reviews and features at The Car Expert

Renault Koleos review What is it? The Renault Koleos is an all-new large SUV to sit above the Captur and Kadjar models.

[frictionarts]

We are the market

I’ve been at another market today - Beirut’s ‘Sunday Market’, open weekends, and I was reminded of Smithfield and getting to know it over the last couple of months.

What I’ve realised over the weeks I’ve been making portraits and thinking about this portrayal of Birmingham’s heart, is that it’s not so much invisible to the city beyond its Moat Lane walls, as immanent, intimate to, inside the flow of our collective life. Literally and metaphorically. 2017 will be my 20th Birmingham year, and that’s over half my life eating food that’s passed through these halls, into the caverns of my body, and into the very walls of the cells that not only make me, but are me, mostly. If it’s true that every 7 years we’ve replaced our physical selves with fresh molecular matter, then there’s almost 3 whole Dans gone down the tubes that came, in part, through this tatty Cathedral of trade and heckles, into my bags at the outdoor market by St. Martins, from Aziz on Hallam St, SMS or Rehmans on Edward Rd, Raja Bros on Ladypool, or Moseley General Stores opposite Lidl on the Moseley Rd, Ruprai on Station Rd, or the mournful young man who sells big bunches of parsley opposite Sainsbury’s in Kings Heath. I’ve seen, greeted as familiars, Aziz the Elder, and Idris from the Kurdish bakery, and photographed many more wholesale buyers from all over Brum in these few weeks, given them their portraits the next time. As one shop owner told me - here we are family: these are my brothers. And even though it feels like the beginning of this journey still - in terms of the ground I’ve covered in these halls - all this is coming to an end, in this form, here at least.

Starting to shoot in a new place is always daunting. Friction wanted me to do the Instant-ish style - 5x4inch paper negs, monochrome - because of the way it slows it down, makes a dramatic space and marks a ritual or occasion, and because the images have a stillness to them that tends to the monumental, especially, we hope, for the very large prints we’re planning to make to show. It’s also been useful to have an ostentatious amount of kit and a big old camera, to be recognisable, to be a presence; but working under artificial light with subjects who work standing up, and anyway requiring people to be still for 2-4 seconds even with an almost blindingly bright LED lamp, means you lose some great poses to almost inevitable movement, and the contrast is sometimes too high on the orthochromatic emulsion of the paper. So I’ve been working with colour film too, with a Mamiya 7ii, with the 65mm wide, (thank you Andy Jackson!) and the 80mm standard. Some of the rolls look like they’ve been through too many airports, and the push makes them grainy; I’ve also done a few tests on 5x4 Fomapan 400, a couple of which you can see here. How this will all fit together at the end is part of the fun. We’ll see.

Beirut’s is next to a flyover, and, similar to Smithfield, looks in on itself, the backs of stalls walling its 3 or 4 lanes in, enclosing a world invisible to the outside. We know they’re there, and we can guess what happens within, but the characters and relationships that give them life, and that they in turn sustain, are given up only over time and only by a kind of surrender to the forms of their particular culture. I went there once in 2008, bought some DVDs, saw monkeys and dogs in cages for sale in the thick heat of July, and didn’t take any photos. Animal sales now banned, in a winter storm, the dry dirt puddled, it’s DVDs, Fairuz and Marcel Khalife CDs and some WD40. Under the dripping tarps: lightning we confuse with an invisible photographer’s camera flash until the cascade of thunder falls a few seconds later; here there are things you can get anywhere - shoes, belts, phones, chargers, tools (though no whetstone), locks (but not the kind I’m looking to replace), electrical supplies, toiletries, 80s radios, cameras with bellows of old; and things you’d not find easily together beyond the souks of Cairo, Aleppo before, Baghdad, Damascus, - made to order perfumes, brass and copper antiques, saj and falafel; and the other things you buy when you come here - an orange columned Penguin 3rd reprint of Steinbeck’s Tortilla Flat, a ‘70s Penguin Herodotus I’ll never annotate and append to to make it my own (I’m kind of English, but not that patient), some Arabic books on contemporary Middle Eastern conflicts chosen by my mother-in-law, my guide, for my wife, and a conversation with a record dealer who has a shop in Borj Hammoud too, about the walls of vinyl stuffed behind his shutters, how he finds things, what he has, what I’m into, ending with me taking his number and thinking I’ll come back, It’s ok not to shoot today, there’s time, next time...

Dan Burwood, Beirut, 31/12/16

[khalilhumam]

A conversation with Trinidadian Nneka Jones, the artist who created compelling American flag image for TIME magazine

New Post has been published on http://khalilhumam.com/a-conversation-with-trinidadian-nneka-jones-the-artist-who-created-compelling-american-flag-image-for-time-magazine/

A conversation with Trinidadian Nneka Jones, the artist who created compelling American flag image for TIME magazine

‘I use my artwork as a tool': Part I

Nneka Jones’ finished piece for TIME magazine, a hand embroidered representation of the American flag, on canvas. Photo courtesy @artyouhungry, used with permission.

The covers of TIME magazine have often cut right to the quick of pressing issues through simple, powerful imagery that addresses both the big picture and the nuances of any given situation. The cover for its August 31-September 7 issue, however, was especially emotive. Headlined “The New American Revolution,” a searing image of the United States flag integrates itself into the negative space, even as it holds that space to facilitate discussion about creating a future for Black Americans that will live up to the promises of fairness and equity laid out in the country's Constitution. The artist responsible for that image is 23-year-old Trinidadian Nneka Jones, whose stunning painting of George Floyd, which she shared on Instagram, captured the attention of TIME's art director Victor Williams. The rest, as they say, is history:

  View this post on Instagram

  Kept this a secret but it's about @time I share that I was presented with the opportunity to create an exclusive hand embroidered piece for the cover art of TIME Magazine's recent issue “The New American Revolution” curated by Pharrel Williams (@pharrell) YES I SAID TIME MAGAZINE So so grateful for this opportunity. Thank you to everyone at TIME (Especially Victor). #artyouhungry #nnekajones #time #timemagazine #thefutureisblack #thenewamericanrevolution

A post shared by 𝐍𝐧𝐞𝐤𝐚 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 (@artyouhungry) on Aug 20, 2020 at 6:21am PDT

//www.instagram.com/embed.js Jones left Trinidad and Tobago for the US to get her Bachelor of Fine Arts degree; she graduated from the University of Tampa in May, the same month that Floyd was killed and the Black Lives Matter movement exploded not just in America, but around the world. It was a convergence of events that solidified her work as an “activist-artist.” Jones chose to work in the embroidery medium on canvas. As Victor Williams explained:

Every time she pushes the needle through the canvas, it’s an act of intention that mirrors the marching, the protests, the push to form a more perfect union. It’s deliberate. It’s painstaking. It’s long. It’s hard. Each one of those stitches is a single person’s story, a single person’s travails. That’s why we wanted to make the stitches visible.

Even the process of making the art — Jones’ fingers were cut and sore from working so quickly on it — was an act of solidarity with those who bleed from daily injustices that come with being Black in America. Via email, I connected with Jones and chatted with her about her art. In this, the first of a two-part interview, she shares her vision for how art and activism can change the world.

Artist Nneka Jones, hand embroidered self-portrait on canvas. Image courtesy @artyouhngry, used with permission.

Janine Mendes-Franco (JMF): Congratulations on your TIME magazine cover. Embroidery on canvas is such a unique medium. How did you gravitate toward it?

Nneka Jones (NJ): Thank you! My discovery of embroidery came about through an experimental painting class at the University of Tampa. The class invited the students to create a painting without using paint as the main material on the canvas. It therefore forced my classmates and I to reflect on every day and non-traditional materials that could be used. Once I had decided that I would use thread, after seeing many other embroidery artists, I was able to complete my first hand embroidered self-portrait.

JMF: It’s clearly a precise and painstaking process. What went into that TIME cover, from concept to completion?

NJ: Victor Williams reached out to me […] He was automatically drawn to my hand-embroidered work and offered for me to produce cover art for the […] issue curated by Pharrell Williams. We had decided that using the American flag would be the perfect symbolism as it is a reflection of everything happening in the nation currently. After having only 24 hours to complete the hand-embroidered work, I was able to stencil out the flag and have the agreed upon image completed by the deadline. The incomplete ‘finish’ contributed toward the meaning of the piece, as it is symbolic of the work in progress toward a more inclusive future.

JMF: Activism is deeply entwined in your art. What has the experience of coming from multi-ethnic Trinidad and Tobago to a racially divided US been like, and what perspective has your art brought to the issues that need to be addressed?

NJ: Racism is something that exists on a global scale and every country has issues relating to some social injustices. These issues were not foreign to me before leaving Trinidad but of course, coming to a nation that is more largely populated and even more of a melting pot, they seemed to be more obvious. As an activist-artist, I use my artwork as a tool to bring awareness to these injustices and evoke change within society. It is harder for us as humans to have these conversations without having a prompt or ‘push.’ The artwork then, is almost like a stepping stone, forcing viewers to look within themselves — but also amongst themselves — and have these conversations.

Nneka Jones’ portrait of George Floyd. Image courtesy @artyouhungry, used with permission.

JMF: Your portrait of George Floyd was tender and commanding at the same time. How did you feel working on that piece, what message did you want to send, and why was its photorealism important to you?

NJ: The painting of George Floyd was all very in the moment. It contradicted all my other pieces as I usually take time to plan out the content and composition of my pieces and also spend a while completing it. However, this painting was different; I wanted to capture the essence of Floyd right then and there and bring some kind of peace to the chaos that was happening in America at that time. This meant that I had to do my best to capture him as his daughter, family and friends saw him before his passing.

JMF: When the BLM protests spread worldwide many Caribbean social media users were criticised for jumping on the US bandwagon — but the reality is that every society has its own brand of racism to deal with. What role does your art play in these movements and resulting conversations?

NJ: Not many of us realize that although we come from different backgrounds, ethnicities, countries and social groups, a lot of the issues that we face are very similar and are related to overarching issues of racism, inequality and discrimination. This is something that we can all relate to in some way and if my work is to be seen on a global scale, people would be able to identify the specific issue I am highlighting without even speaking the same language I speak. Art in itself offers a universal language and that allows me to create work that speaks out against the injustices and calls for change in all parts of the world, not just Trinidad and not just America.

In Part II of this interview, Nneka discusses the optimism inherent in her work and how social media has helped propel awareness of her art.

Written by Janine Mendes-Franco

[scootoaster]

Seven apps that make it much easier to work remotely

Many hands make light work. (Perry Grone/Unsplash/)

The internet has transformed the way we live and communicate with each other, which means it’s likely you have colleagues and clients spread across the world. With the right phone apps, you can make sure this geographical diversity doesn't hurt productivity, and ensure that everyone on your team is on the same page (sometimes literally).

These collaboration apps don’t just have to be for the workplace, either—you may also find them useful for planning events or sharing information with family and friends.

1. Google Drive

It’s no surprise Google makes some of the best web apps in the business, and Google Drive (including Docs, Sheets, and Slides) is just about the best it’s ever built. This suite of apps makes collaboration look easy: Open up a document, spreadsheet, or presentation, and tap the Share button (the portrait icon) at the top. Done. You’re collaborating.

Not only can different users edit the same Google Drive file, they can do so at the same time if necessary (color-coded labels show who is who). Adding comments and working with different versions of a file is straightforward and simple, and the file owner gets some useful controls for setting limits on who can view and edit the file.

Google Drive is free for Android and iOS.

2. Notion

If you've never heard of Notion, now you know what it looks like. (Notion/)

One of the newer arrivals in the collaboration app space, Notion doesn't have too many restrictions. In fact, its interface largely stays out of the way, leaving you (and your team) to use it however you like: as a free-form notepad, a place to manage tasks, a document library, or whatever else you need.

The app’s clean, minimal interface is nicely designed, and with features such as drag-and-drop editing and document outlining, it’s easy to understand. From team calendars to real-time commenting, Notion is a treat to use. Free accounts are limited to 1,000 pieces of content, and paid subscriptions start at $4 a month.

Notion is free or from $4 a month for Android and iOS.

3. Dropbox Paper

Dropbox Paper is, in some ways, a cut-down version of Google Docs. But that simplicity isn’t necessarily a negative—it makes it easier to focus on what you’re actually collaborating on. The app is essentially a free-form group notebook and document editor, giving you and your team space to work together on text, images, timetables, and more.

Where the app excels is in the ease with which multiple people can work on the same document and put their heads together (virtually) to add comments and edits. You can edit files offline, if necessary, and Paper naturally integrates nicely with the main Dropbox app for storing and sharing your files in the cloud.

Dropbox Paper is free for Android and iOS.

4. Trello

Use Trello to keep your team on track... or to plan a new kitchen. (Trello/)

Trello is one of those apps that looks pretty straightforward on the surface, but gets more complex (and useful) as you dig deeper. It’s also quite hard to explain, because at its core it’s just a bunch of cards sorted into a series of columns—but you can use those columns and cards in a host of different ways, depending on what your team needs.

Perhaps the most common way people use Trello is to keep track of projects: who's doing what, how far along each task is, when deadlines are approaching, and so on. Users can tag cards with labels, due dates, usernames, and more, and if you upgrade from the free plan, you’ll get extras like board templates, app integration, and custom backgrounds.

Trello is free or from $10 a month for Android and iOS.

5. Evernote

Evernote has been around in some form since 2000, but it remains one of the best cross-platform note-taking and collaboration apps available. Evernote lets you easily and intuitively combine text, images, videos, links, lists, and more into a series of digital notebooks that can be tagged and categorized as you see fit.

The sharing options are useful without being overwhelming—you just need email addresses to share notes with other people, and it’s possible to let some users edit notes while limiting others to merely viewing them. Sign up for a premium subscription (from $5 a month) and you’ll get a variety of extra features, including advanced search and offline editing.

Evernote is free or from $5 a month for Android and iOS.

6. Slack

Toby had better talk about office pets in that culture meeting. (Slack/)

A staple of offices around the world, Slack is on a mission to make it easier for teams to work together, without getting weighed down by endless email chains or round-the-clock meetings. The strength of Slack lies not in what it is—a real-time chat client, basically—but in how well it implements that idea.

Chatting can be one-to-one or in (private or public) group channels, and Slack has adopted mentions, threads, emoji reactions, and other useful tricks from social media. It’s good for societies and clubs as well as workplaces, but you’ll need to sign up for a subscription (they start at $6.67) to keep an unlimited archive of messages and get extras like group calling.

Slack is free or from $6.67 a month for Android and iOS.

7. Google Keep

We started with Google and we'll end with Google (we told you it was good at web apps). Google Keep looks simple on the surface, but it's actually quite a sophisticated note-taking and collaboration app, enabling you to share photos, text, lists, and links with other people. If you need to, you can quickly convert Notes into files for Google Docs, too.

When it comes to managing notes, tou’ve got plenty of flexibility. They can be color-coded, linked to reminders, and tagged with custom labels for easier organization (like work, family, or shopping). Sharing a note with one or more people is as simple as tapping the Collaborator option and entering email addresses.

Google Keep is free for Android and iOS.

[bridini]

”

I came to the writing of a short biography of Joyce through my earlier biography of Arthur Griffith. The contrast between the two contemporaries is vast, particularly in the context of their current public recognition. Yet both confined their life’s work to their native land. Griffith hardly ever physically left it, while Joyce, though abandoning it physically, never left it mentally or artistically. An Italian visitor to the James Joyce Museum in Sandycove said to me in the summer of 2016: “The great thing Joyce did was to create an international community.” Griffith, though an accomplished Dubliner, was also of Ireland and a high achiever, but has been relatively forgotten. Yet both their lives were intertwined up to the publication of Ulysses in February 1922 and Griffith’s premature death that same year. Joycean scholars and enthusiasts generally shun the Griffith-Joyce links, fearing that the grounded one would delimit their literary interpretations of the artistic genius. I encountered this dichotomy during the four years I spent researching and writing James Joyce Unplugged.

As in any biography, one tries to deal in facts germane to the subject. Éamon de Valera advised his secretary: “History depends on documents; no documents, no history.” A difficulty with Joyce was the surfeit of documentation on his life contained in his own published writings, which as Sean Latham suggests are in essence fiction, though containing much autobiographical material. This is not unusual in imaginative literature, with the author having carte blanche to shape the biographical record to his/her purpose. Normally such a practice will bestow only positive attributes on the author, but Joyce is unique in this as in most things, in that he includes materials which portray him in a very negative light. One example occurs in Ulysses as Buck Mulligan chides Stephen:

O, the night in the Camden hall when the Daughters of Erin had to life their skirts to step over you as you lay in your mulberrycoloured, multi-coloured, multitudinous vomit! The most innocent son of Erin, Stephen said, for whom they ever lifted them. About to pass through the doorway, feeling one behind, he stood aside. Part. The moment is now. Where then? If Socrates leaves his house today, if Judas goes forth tonight. Why? That lies in space which I in time must come to, ineluctably. My will: his will that fronts me. Seas in between.

What is his motivation for including this? The event occurred on June 20th, 1904, four days after he had first met Nora Barnacle. The lady who had stumbled over him was an actress named Vera Esposito. The four men who dealt with the drunken Joyce were the brothers Frank and Willie Fay, Seumas O’Sullivan and George Roberts, who would later give him grief over the publication of Dubliners. Joyce thanked the Fays by soon writing a poem:

O, there are two brothers, the Fays, Who are excellent players of plays, And , needless to mention, all Most unconventional, Filling the world with amaze.

But I angered those brothers, the Fays, Whose ways are conventional ways, For I lay in my urine While ladies so pure in White petticoats ravished my gaze.

Joyce was not averse to “correcting” some facts to suit his purpose. When Herbert Gorman was writing Joyce’s biography, with support from his subject, Joyce insisted that he married Nora in 1904 and that his relationship with his father was sufficiently filial. Ellman wrote that Joyce used the opportunity to “ventriloquize a little” and “to pay off scores”. Joyce insisted that his relationship with Fr Henry in Belvedere was a good one towards the end of his time there. But in fact the opposite was the case, as testified to by a number of contemporaries. Richard Ellmann comments: “Other witnesses indicate that Joyce’s memory was at fault.”

The most difficult and most important area where there is a discrepancy between fact and fiction in Joyce is in relation to Portrait of the Artist. This is the work which is accepted as illustrating Joyce’s abandonment and rejection of his Catholicism and his country. But it was a greatly contrived book, even in the choice of the name of the hero, Stephen Dedalus; Stephen after the first Christian martyr and Dedalus after paganism’s greatest inventor. He was consciously making his life as he was living it into fiction, all the while realising that he could adapt or change it to suit his purpose. He controlled the real people he wrote about, often much to their annoyance. He excised his one loyalist, his brother Stanislaus, deciding that he must be alone in his life ‑ “A brother is as easily forgotten as an umbrella,” he wrote. It is ironic, as Brenda Maddox has written, that eventually it was Stanislaus and his family who gained from “his memories and his brother’s papers”.

Indeed Matthew Hodgart accuses Joyce in Portrait of lying in suggesting that he did not go to a Christian Brothers School for a few months when his father could no longer afford to send him to Clongowes and before he was taken in as a “free” boy to Belvedere. Joyce has his mother say in Portrait:

I never liked the idea of sending him to the christian brothers myself, said Mrs. Dedalus. Christian Brothers be damned! said Mr. Dedalus. Is it with Paddy Stink and Micky Mud? No let him stick to the jesuits in God’s name since he began with them. They’ll be of service to him in after years. Those are the fellows that can get you a position.

He anticipated, even urged, friends, and especially Oliver St John Gogarty, to betray him in his need for a victimhood like that of Christ or Parnell. He wrote: “I will not serve that in which I no longer believe whether it call itself my home or, my fatherland or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use – silence, exile, and cunning.”

A Portrait began life as an autobiographical story intended for the magazine Dana, which rejected it, as the editor, John Eglinton, said he could not understand it. It 1903 Joyce developed it into Stephen Hero ‑ a novel in a realistic style. At this time he was also writing short stories which became Dubliners. In 1907, with twenty-five chapters written, he abandoned Stephen Hero, developed the story instead into a five chapter novel about Stephen’s developing consciousness. It was serialised in The Egoist in 1914-15 and published as a book in 1916.

While writing Portrait, Joyce was an exile in real time, living a different life, in contact with Ireland through reading Arthur Griffith’s newspaper, Sinn Féin. He gradually became to support Griffith’s views on Irish nationalism, writing to his brother Stanislaus;

If a victorious country terrorises over another, it cannot reasonably take it amiss if the latter responds. Men are made that way and no one, unless he is deluded by self-interest or cunning, can still believe that a colonising country is driven by purely Christian motives when it takes over foreign shores – if the Irish have not been able to do what their American brothers did, this does not mean that they will never do so – a moral separation already exists between the two countries.

The practicality of Griffith’s emphasis on trade and consuls abroad, replacing Irish members of parliament at Westminster, appealed to him. When Stanislaus sought to get his brother to support Tom Kettle’s Irish Parliamentary Party, James would have none of it, ridiculing those MPs as self-serving. He also ridiculed the idea of Home Rule, declaring that the British would never grant it to Ireland without partitioning the country. Declan Kiberd remarks that “this was one of the most accurate predictions of partition”. James wrote to Stanislaus in 1907 of Griffith: “ ... so far as my knowledge of Irish affairs goes he was the first person in Ireland to revive the separatist idea on modern lines nine years ago … The Sinn Fein policy comes to fighting England with the knife and fork … the highest form of political warfare I have heard of.”

Even when the IPP held the balance of power after the 1910 general election and Home Rule appeared to be just a matter of time, Joyce remained sceptical, even to the point of visualising that parliament would reduce Irish representation by half. He said that despite Ireland becoming part of British democratic life, she had never been faithful to England nor to herself, as she discarded her own language for English, betrayed her stars and served only the Catholic church. Even when the Home Rule Bill was passed in 1912 he was astute enough, like Griffith and Sinn Féin, to realise that Britain would as usual control taxes. Kiberd writes: “Joyce wrote from the viewpoint of a staunch republican.” Herbert Gorman stated: “Joyce, if anything, was an Irish nationalist at heart.”

Joyce’s most poignant take on Irish independence saw him writing about an unlikely revolution: “One thing alone seems obvious to me. It is way past time for Ireland to have done once and for all with failure. If she is truly capable of revitalizing, let her rouse, or let her cover her head and lie down graciously in her grave forever ... But though the Irish are articulate, an insurrection is not made of human breath and negotiations ... If she wants to put on the show for which we have delayed so long, this time, let it be comprehensive, and conclusive. But telling these Irish actors to hurry up, as our forefathers before us told them not so long ago, is hopeless. I, for one, am certain not to see that curtain rise as I shall have already taken the last tram home.”

But when the performance did unexpectedly occur in Dublin at Easter 1916, Joyce remained quiet. Of course the tragic murder of his old friend Sheehy-Skeffington and the partial destruction of Dublin did affect him. The Sheehy family suffered another tragedy when Tom Kettle was killed fighting in France in September 1916. Joyce wrote a letter of sympathy to the two widowed Sheehy sisters he had known so well. As Richard Ellmann writes, “Joyce followed the events with pity; although he evaluated the Rising as useless, he felt also out of things.” Later in 1918 he was glad when the British had to abandon their plan to introduce conscription to Ireland, remarking “Erin go bragh”. At that stage he looked forward to the time when he would revisit an independent Ireland.

When Nora was in Galway as the Civil War was in progress and had to flee amid gunfire, Joyce felt that it was all part of the ongoing conspiracy against himself. Constantine Curran later visited Joyce in Paris and “found exaggeration of Nora’s danger from the Civil War preposterous”.

The publication of Ulysses had coincided with the coming into being of the new Irish state, with Arthur Griffith as president. Richard Ellmann writes that “Ulysses creates new Irishmen to live in Griffith’s new state … For a moment it seemed that the two events were allied, that Ireland would be a nation once again in terms of both spiritual and political emancipation. But Griffith died after only a few months in power, and Joyce had second thoughts.” The several references to Griffith and Sinn Féin in Ulysses demonstrate that Joyce had an intimate and detailed knowledge of the man and what he was about. The book features many references to the Sinn Féin leader, alone of the politicians of his day, while Joyce also called attention to the ultimately political direction of his own work by having the Irish Stephen, at the end of the brothel scene, beaten up by a British soldier, whom he describes as “The Uninvited”.

Joyce was visited in Paris in 1922 by Desmond Fitzgerald, a minister in the new Irish government. He wrote to Stanislaus that “the Dail Eireann minister of propaganda called on me and wished to know if I intended to return to Ireland – to which I returned an evasive answer. He is proposing me, it seems, for the Nobel prize in his capacity of cabinet minister as soon as the Treaty is ratified at Westminster, though not in the name of his cabinet. I will take a small bet that if he does not change his mind when he sees the complete text he will lose his portfolio while I have not the faintest chance of being awarded the prize.” In the event it was WB Yeats who won the prize and Joyce was never even nominated.

6/2/2019

Anthony J Jordan’s biography is called James Joyce Unplugged and is published bywestportbooks@yahoo.co.uk

[alfiejamescallingham-blog]

Photography research 1

Mary Ellen Mark - Twins (2003).

Twins is my favourite photography book. The photos taken are in 20x24 medium format shots. Mary uses a polaroid back to show the twins how they are going to look like for the final image and let them keep it. This project takes place in a festival created for twins where twins unite all around the world . Mary of course saw this opportunity to take this series of images and visits every year. She talks to all her subject about themselves , before and a few months after the photoshoot. The twins always wear the same outfit to each over. The younger they are the harder to tell them apart (normally). I like how on some pages of the book there is a recorded conversation between the subject and Mary.

Mary believes there is no stronger bond then the one twins share. She explores this with the subject of death by asking what it would be like if the over twin died. In my opinion the twins are in a situation where they have to say it would be heart breaking as they are in the same room together but it is an interesting theme.

This is not confirmed in any point of the book but I guess that black and white film is used because twins sometimes , specially when alder have different skin colour depending on the sun intake of each twin. Using black and white deletes that difference from view.

 Here´s one twin has survived the death of the other twin. The subject is wearing his twins clothes that he was wearing the photo he is carrying. This image is for me the one that stands out the most because he is alone whilst all the other twins are together.

In this photo one is slightly taller and larger then the other. In the comment section they agree that the smaller one is the clever one and the taller one is the muscle. I , having twin brothers know that the personalities tend to be opposite to be able to compensate together . It´s like they are part of this larger one being. This is said also by one of the subjects.

Shelby Lee Adams - Salt and truth (2011).

Shelby as a kid used to live in Eastern Kentucky, which is a poor area but surrounded by nature. As a kid he used to be good at drawing and that was his passion. His mother had a old film camera and used to use it all the time. Shelby used to dislike the portraits she took of the family as she controlled the whole scene and didn´t feel like himself. He got into photography when he was older but was decided on telling the truth as he saw it without manipulation of the facts. This book is exactly about that , honesty in photography. As the subjects are poor they would normally be photographed as such but Shelby Adams is larger then that, he photographs them for who they are , not their economy. He goes and takes photos and comes back a year later with the photos developed and takes more and then goes until next year. Documenting a village that elsewise would not be documented.

The subject is in his house surrounded by his families belongings. Photographs are a rarity there and poses large emotional value.

Here granddaughter and past away grandmother in a frame have their picture taken. The granddaughter is in her communion dress which she decided to wear against her parents will for the photo . The frame wasn´t placed their initially , Shelby placed it there.

Andreas Gursky

In his large-format colour photos Gursky usually portrays vast panoramic views: "complete" townscapes, "endless horizons," huge factory halls and packed rooms, frequently from a bird's eye view, always from a great distance creating a disconnection from the location. The people in these tableaux, reminiscent of the landscape paintings of romanticism in terms of composition and lighting, are reduced to the size of tiny decorative figures, whose "individuality" seems to down in the "ornamentation of the masses." Devoid of any trace of reproach or intention to psychologize, Gursky's portraits of exteriors and interiors capturing scenes of work and leisure are subtle descriptions of the condition of our society.

This is probably my favourite photo in the book. The destinations of the flights are also the cover art. Here Gursky is documenting the noisy analogue cinematic board soon to be replaced by a digital one. The amount of people in the frame add to this idea of noisiness.

I also really like this photo. I really admire Gursky as an artist because of the enormous amount of time and effort he puts into ¨painting¨ an image. He refers to the word ¨painting¨ a lot.

The summitry of the placement of artificially generated umbrellas is good enough to look aesthetically pleasing but not to perfect allowing the image to seem natural.

This image is created with 5 other images taken in factories. The images have been merged together perfectly creating a chaotic factory. The crossing lines create an aesthetically pleasing image. This photo was created in order to document consumerism.

  Ira fox

Ira fox normally takes wedding, engagement, and business photography using either warm colours or taking the shots in black and white. He also created a self-directed series of photos using the reflections of puddles.

He had to crouch to take all the following images:

The dirt from the puddle makes the figures grainy with contrast in colour. The figures are dark as they are close to the puddle, not allowing light to get past. The building in the background allows light to pass and makes its true colour visible. The whole scene is overblown by the warm yellow colour from the sun.

The pink colour here is most likely edited in Photoshop. As with the other images in this set, the subjects´ features are not distinguishable, making the image more about creating an atmosphere than focusing on individuals.

This image appears to be more natural than the two above. The sky is still blue, slightly yellow because of the harsh sun. Another feature that stands out in this shot is that you can notice how the closer the subject is to the puddle, the blurrier it becomes.

O.Winston Link

I thought of analysing a photograph without researching it and then see what I discover afterwards and did so with the photograph above recommended by my father.

This image seems very old and damaged. The damage may indicate that the film was developed late or that he was not famous in life and the print decayed. Independent of his fame this photo demonstrates his true talent. The grain is very high, possibly because he is using film at iso 800 or above. The sharpness of the image suggests that he is using a 35mm film. The setting is a drive-in cinema . I like the position of the camera. The scene represents a lot of the "American Dream" with the high class couples, nice cars and romance. This pure and romantic scene is contrasted with a train passing by which a lot of poor people used to use to go from one town to another looking for jobs. The motion and smoke adds drama to this concept. I am unsure whether this was deliberate and well calculated or simply good luck; either way, he had the talent to capture the moment.

After a bit of research I learnt that O.Winston Link was popular and well regarded in his time. The photo was meticulously planned as were all his photos of the series of steam trains. In total, he took 2400 negatives for this project. He didn't use high iso but he used complex and planned lighting for his work. Besides mastering a theme, he also mastered lighting. In a way, the photos feel nostalgic, or at least the concept of the project feels nostalgic. documenting the disappearing steam trains being replaced by diesel is somehow sad, especially considering Winston´s dedication.

Researching gives a higher psychological value, as it informed me of the dedication of the photographer which conveyed his feelings towards the subject.

Robert frank

 Robert Frank redefined what a photo book could look like back in the time. Not innocent and florally , but pure beauty in a crude and direct approach on society of the times, a criticism in form of the truest and most affective way, images. A lot of the images where about the social differences between black people and white. The white men tend to have a narcissistic and disrespectful look while the black men tend to appear overpowered , defenceless , and ridiculed with downgrading tasks like cleaning white mens boots. The images where not the complete message, they where accompanied by beautiful poetry. He is not a master of technicalities but of meaning has has the value to express his opinion which is highly valuable , especially in his era. He took 28.000 photographs over the space of 2 years, of which he only used 83 final images in his book. This is an important fact to read into , only 0.003 per cent of a professional photographer is successful. We should analyse our images in the same way and only display the most successful images instead of all.

Alec Soth

The Work of Alec Soth who’s work - whist continually travelling across America - records those who try to escape the mainstream, his journeys have been recorded as though he is continually searching for something that is impossible to reach.

All of his images are taken in solitude. Alec dislikes cooperating with other photographers. His work in storybook is a combination of party like situations and the average life. Non the less, there is a constant theme, nostalgia and a narrative, all his images tell a story of sorts, as all images should.

Alec Soth uses his own Shyness to attract his subjects and “comfort” them. Alec’s awkwardness validates his subjects awkwardness in a way and makes the subjects feel more comfortable. This attribute from his infancy has been cast into his art till today and has formed him as an artist. Photography has Also forced Alec Soth to cope and overcome this shyness.  Being shy is both part of his work and the wall he has to overcome to create the work. This incident tends to be common in artists. There is always a problem the artists has to overcome or wants it to be overcome by society but that same problem has been moulded into beauty in the form of art.

Alec’s work is closely related to William Eggleston’s in the sense of both artists don’t like to talk about their work much. They prefer to leave their work open to interpretation, like a book which our imagination is free to act upon. Still Eggleston’s work is very different in the sense of his work is more snapshots, a documentation of real life but not manipulated or calculated whilst Alec’s work is a serious documentation of intimate portraits, calculated in detail and controlled severely.

Alec Soth is also largely inspired by the narrative art of poetry. One of his favourites is Walt Whiteman – When I Heard The Learned Astronomer. The theme to the poetry he enjoys is isolation and peace, which you can also notice in his peace’s of work. Also a sense of tiredness, defeat and tranquillity is strongly present. I find this vital as an artist to absorb creative thought from other forms of art excluding the form of art you are creating, for example if you are creating music the best form of inspiration would be other arts like poetry, illustration and photography and less so of music itself. This is because of the over-saturation of the medium of what we do. In this case, this is not societies fault but it is our own. We surround ourselves with people, ideas, objects which we identify with, and with so many already created ideas it is hard to form originality in our art instead we rethink and analyse the billions of ideas we have already seen. With other art forms we can still create originality by changing the medium alone. For example creating a film about a novel that has already been created is still a form of art because transferring those ideas to a completely different medium is extremely challenging.

This is a portrait of a woman who wanted to convert Alec into a Christian. She is holding a photo of what she claims to be an angel. I find this photo interesting as both the subject and the photographer are confronted by wanting something of the other.

Alec soth has won various prices and is part of the magnum photography club which is a large achievement in photography.

      Paul M Smith

the effects of the digital techniques applied to photography have enhanced the credibility of the manipulated image beyond what was possible in previous decades. This is of course heavily dependent on the willingness on the part of the viewer to believe in the photograph as the guardian of verisimilitude. This could be witnessed at many of the previous exhibitions Paul has held for earlier bodies of his work; frequently his work had been quickly surmised as a record of a drunken night on the town or of soldiers out training. The potential quality of this manipulation throws up questions as to what is accepted as real within any image. Paul's earlier series. always courted the question of the assumed integrity of a photograph, at first glance obscuring the boundaries between what is conceived as real documentary photography and the digital image. What followed was a series of large-format high gloss photos in which he clearly defined his position in relation to traditional photography. Within this series he chooses to explore the digital aesthetic, depicting fantasy in complete contrast to notions of reality. Paul combines elements of the pornographic, theatrical and grotesque into a form that does not conceal it's dislocation from realism. Each image examines a slightly different stance towards the subject matter. The title gives us a clear indication as to what Paul intends this work to communicate. 'This is not pornography is a statement not just a title. The widely accepted definition of a pornographic image is that it primarily operates to stimulate erotic, rather than aesthetic reactions. The bodily distortions and violent nature of some of these images is deliberately intended to have a rebarbative effect rather than appear erotic. This is probably most evident in the shaving shot; where the cut throat razor evokes the fear of castration and the blended bodies lose all their sexual function. Within other images in this series Paul observes the passivity of a relationship with pornography, that of the supine voyeur. The male figure left masturbating in his chair is seen as the weaker participant in the image. The pornographic image has always been credited with playing a crucial part in reinforcing a dominant stereotype and it is from this source Paul has drawn his references. Through an understanding of the pre-existent forms and conventions of presentation Paul produces simulations of simulations, a fabricated androgyny that confounds our expectations of the erotic.

Following the success of Artists Rifles, Paul re-joined the discourse with the masculine identity in Make My Night. Ostensibly a record of a very laddish night out, Paul used a similar technical method to that of the previous series combined with the use of multiple self-portraits. As before, he becomes the anonymous everyman but this time is more overtly the narrator as well as the protagonist of a frequently observed ritual. Governed by group approval and time honoured rites, a world of bravado and sexual tension vies with drunken frivolity and a certain vulnerability to occlude any notion of a new masculinity. From the preamble of high jinks and drinking games, to bar fights and stand offs through to its nauseous conclusion, each scene has been painstakingly researched and detailed. Using the snapshot as a stylistic template, Paul employed an almost forensic approach to reproduce the variable quality that machine printing of pictures taken with a standard point and shoot camera generate in the hands of revellers; bleached out faces, over cropped subject matter or the slight blur of the finger over the lens, the hallmarks of an impromptu celebration. As with other snapshots of this kind, participants are conscious of later scrutiny or comment; sometimes avoiding the focus of the lens, sometimes performing for it and gesticulating to an unseen audience. This is not merely finding an identity and securing ones position within a group but being seen to do so, and having it validated in high gloss, as a delinquent rite of passage into manhood. However, in this case they are not standard sized images developed for private consumption by ones peers, but are reproduced to a grand scale and placed in a gallery. Thus the much-denigrated antics that are the working material of Make My Night are subjected to a level of scrutiny not normally given to such unremarkable contemporary phenomena. Paul is mindful not to appear too censorious in his approach; "I fully embraced lads' culture in the army... and I would have been ostracised if I didn't take part". There is a wry humour in much of the work that is derived from the recognition of familiar scenarios painfully recalled, to become part of a collective memory. The narratives are straightforward; here I am with the lads, the everyman in a bar fight, all spied through the kind of glimpsed vision that implies a debt to the story-making of bar or club, where an incident takes on epic proportions through its retelling. Featured are the kinds of acts, heroic or otherwise that gains currency and develops an independent life from the real participants, owned by an improbable number of eyewitnesses. Charles Saatchi had already bought the complete Artists Rifles series from Paul's MA graduation show. Then marking a significant development in his patronage he purchased Make My Night and included both in the Neurotic Realism exhibition at the Saatchi gallery. In the same year, (1999) Paul was short listed for the prestigious Citibank award hosted at the Photographers gallery. This combination of exhibitions created a flurry of media interest and led to Paul's involvement in a range of television projects.

Christophe Huet

Christophe Huet was born in 1967 in France . He wanted to be a musician [piano & drums], but instead studied to be a sound engineer at Louis Lumiere’s University, he passed his photo exam at the same university and worked in photo lab as a technician, working for famous photographers like; Mondino, Depardon, Koudelka & Salgado. Later on he changed to become a printer, he liked drawing and knew he could give more as a retoucher. He continued to work as a printer but trained himself in retouching. He has been retouching for 10 years. After searching for a photographer that wanted to give a ‘creative direction’ with the help of retouching, he met Dimitri Daniloff . His main purpose is to make people forget the retouching itself even if it seems obvious becasue of the singularity of the image. He now works as a retoucher & manager at ASILE since 2005.  His surreal creative flare has been commissioned by big commercial brands/companies such as; Nike, Motorola, Playstation, Orange,and many more, some of his work has also been used in advertisements for Aides.

Plastation shot. The picture of the eye is to represent vision as it´s for a gaming console suggesting realistic graphics . How the eye dissolves suggests a world of fiction and the curly lines coming out suggests rapid playability. The fact that most of the picture is white suggests the gaming console is simple to run.

This photo may be indicating the true nature of passion or love, as vicious and venomous.      The difference between them two is clear. Paul M Smith creates ideas he portrays with photos and editing skills. Like the lads night out theme is portraying the fun and imbecility of going out and acting how he is in these self portraits. Christophe Huet instead tries to break the barier between both between reality and creative photoshop.

David LaChapelle

David LaChapelle was born in 1963 and he is an American commercial photographer, fine-art photographer , film director, music video director, and artist.

He is best known for his photography, which tends to convey social messages and reference art in history.

His photos tend to be very detailed, not just the subject, but he creates a whole detailed and complicated scenario. Also his usage of lighting is impeccable as he gains control over complete detail in the scene and bright punchy colours. Here is an example:

He has released 3 films, 36 books, 34 musical videos, and gained 13 awards.

Here´s a link to one of his musical videos:  blink 182-feeling this

My favourite series of photos is named Aristocracy. The photos are of aeroplanes swimming in the sky close together like fish in beautiful clouds of different colours. This is probably done by shooting a lot of photos in the studio of flower being frown around the studio and later coloured in Photoshop and then placed aeroplanes into the photo.

My next favourite series of photos is probably Gas. This series has a larger message. David places petrol stations in the strangest places possible , surrounded by beautiful vegetation . The juxtaposition here is enormous as the subtraction and usage of petrol is destroying nature.

John Rankin Wadell

John Rankin Waddell was born in 1966, he professionally goes by his second name Rankin, is a British portrait and fashion photographer. He owns his own fashion magazine called Rank. Before the magazine Rank he co-owned a magazine with Jefferson Hack called dazed and confused after both of them graduated together. Before graduating in photography he studied accounting which he realized was not his passion after he first got into photography.

Rankin just like David , the previous photographer has created a large amount of musical videos, to be precise 28.

Here is a link to one of his music videos:  Mr. Hudson-Fred Astaire

He uses soft focus, from what it seams a old film camera lens decloged  and he records the the process or recording the video to make it more personal for the viewer and therefore more truthful.

Most of his portraits are sexualized where he masters the capturing of form. Here is an example :

This is probably my favourite image of his. Simple and consistent in the connotation of the idea of `fragile and pure´ by using white hair, skin, and bandage. Grey background is used as it´s plain of message and pop´s the white out without overpowering the subject. The only colourful item is the perfume which makes us automatically be aware what the photo is about.

The suggested nudity is attractive for the viewers but by only showing the top and without showing the breasts the viewers are not distracted by the nudity. This is why suggested nudity photography is art in itself.

Another beautiful image of his is :

Here Rankin is creating this atmosphere in this image. Because the camera is looking through a window instead of directly at the subject personality is added to the camera, a sense of prohibition , fear of being caught and interest towards the subject. By hiding the face we imagine it could be anyone and therefore we can identify more with the view. The composition in this image is perfect too as the window occupies just enough of the image to be identifiable but not take over .

Anna Lou Leibovitz

Anna lou Leibovitz is a American portrait photographer born in 1949. She initially studied painting in an art institute, where she also picked up photography. What created her photography career was working for the rolling stone magazine , which she did successfully for 10 years and created the unique dully saturated ,well defined and sharp look for the magazine. This magazine gave her the opportunity to photograph John Lennon which granted her fame as a photographer.

Annie initially wanted to take a portrait of only Lennon but he refused and wanted to take a photo with his lover. She paned on taking a photo of them together lying down but she did not ask him to unclothe and cling to his lover. Lennon did this on his own accord which creates a personal and emotional photo. This was taken in polaroid which makes the link between subject and photographer more personal as they can  shake the polaroid and when developed can comment together how they want to progress.

The aesthetic value of the image was not what made Annie a popular photographer, sadly what did so was the death of Lennon 5 hours after the photo session.

Annie left the rolling stone to join other magazines that required less time so she could apply her attention personal projects. She liked the idea of photographing people who opened up completely to her and capture that personal connection via photography.

She has created a lot of fairy tale themed photos , for example:

In this photo like most of her photos is dully saturated, the people in the photo are well defined popping out the age of the models. This is a juxtaposition with the popular concept of the young peter pan. Maybe this was to create a message that fairy tales and happy endings are not just for the young. Hope if allowed to be can be undying. The surroundings and props are also aged which integrates well.  Outside the window is illustration  which is combines perfectly with the photo.

Leonardo DiCaprio is captured with a polaroid in this photo. Soft focus but well defined subject. Leonardo is looking straight into the camera with a daring look but care in his hands holding the swan which represents innocence. I personally really like the simplicity of this photo.

John Shaw

 John Shaw has been a professional nature photographer since the early 1970s. His work has been published in many publications and books, including National Geographic, Nature’s Best, National Wildlife, Audubon, Outdoor Photographer, and many others. In 1997 he received the first-ever Outstanding Photographer Award given by NANPA (North American Nature Photography Association).  Nikon chose him as a featured Legend Behind the Lens in 2002, while Microsoft designated him an Icon of Imaging in 2006.  He has been part of Epson’s Stylus Pro fine art print makers group since 2001.

John has published six books on nature photography, eight eBooks on Photoshop and Lightroom, plus two eBooks of photographs.  A new work, John Shaw’s Guide to Digital Nature Photography, is scheduled for publication in early 2015.  He has photographed on every continent, from the Arctic to the Antarctic, from Provence to Patagonia.

His art gives me an immense amount of the feeling , loneliness as his photos feel limitless

   John Davies

John Davies (born 1949 in Sedgefield, County Durham, England) is a British landscape photographer. He is known for completing long-term projects documenting Britain and exploring the industrialisation of space. In 2008, he was nominated for the Deutsche Börse Photography Prize.

 He is known for producing large photographic prints of images produced from high vantage points, using traditional darkroom techniques. His work in the 1980s primarily used medium format cameras, and work from the 1990s a large format camera, although in recent years he has begun using DSLR and digital medium format cameras in his work as well.

 Lewis Baltz

Lewis Baltz (September 12, 1945 – November 22, 2014) was a visual artist and photographer who became an important figure in the New Topographics movement of the late 1970s. His work has been published in a number of books, presented in numerous exhibitions, and appeared in museums such as the Museum of Modern Art, Paris, Museum of Contemporary Art, Helsinki, San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and The Whitney Museum of American Art, New York. He wrote for many journals, and contributed regularly to L'Architecture d'Aujourd'hui. His work is focused on searching for beauty in desolation and destruction.

Will Pearson

I have added links instead of images as images can not truly represent the 3 dimensions

Since Will Pearson moved to London he has been documenting the ever-changing London skyline by making panoramas, and travelled in search of other cityscapes across the globe. He blends extremely high resolution images together to make canvases that can reproduce at large scales. The largest reproduction to date has been 72 metres wide (for Ericsson)

Since the start of online 360 photography he has created the highest quality 360 photos possible; and has worked in California shooting for Apple, the pioneers of 360 technology. He also works in the automotive sector as 360 interactives allow viewers to explore car interiors in flawless detail.

As technology improved he created 360 content in Virtual Reality headsets.

360 videos of which he has created a few are allowing viewers to explore a location in full 360 with action and immersive sound. It has great power to surprise and delight viewers, especially when viewed within a headset or dome environment.

 The distinctive quality of the 360s he creates has led him to work with some famous brands, including Apple, the British Royal Household, Jaguar, 10 Downing Street, Land Rover, the BBC, Mercedes, M&S and many more.

William eggleston.

William Eggleston was born in Memphis, Tennessee and raised in Sumner, Mississippi. His father was an engineer and his mother was the daughter of a prominent local judge. As a boy, Eggleston was introverted; he enjoyed playing the piano, drawing, and working with electronics. From an early age, he was also drawn to visual media, and reportedly enjoyed buying postcards and cutting out pictures from magazines. At the age of 15, Eggleston was sent to the Webb School, a boarding establishment.

 Eggleston taught at Harvard in 1973 and 1974, and it was during these years that he discovered dye-transfer printing, which became his default way of printing. At Harvard, Eggleston prepared his first portfolio, entitled 14 Pictures (1974). Eggleston's work was exhibited at MoMA in 1976.

 Eggleston's mature work is characterized by its ordinary subject-matter. He shows to us the complexity and beauty of the mundane world: The extraordinary, compelling, honest, beautiful and unsparing photographs all have to do with the quality of our lives in the ongoing world: they succeed in showing us the grain of the present, like the cross-section of a tree. They focus on the mundane world. But no subject is fuller of implications than the mundane world.

His photos were highly saturated and vivid. Specially with reds , yellows and blues. Most photos are taken in colour film , even though he did a lot of nightclub black and white portraits. He tends to document the average life and take a lot of still photography, of for example stores, lights, roads ect.

Most of his pictures also have dark edges.

Gallery reports

M shed nature photography.

This gallery was mostly really sharp images of the faun and vegetation around the wold , of which most of where foreign but a few where local. I really like the fact that some where local , it gives a feeling that you can identify with the gallery as it includes a part of you. This image was of a passing fox which is classical for Bristol.

What I found very inspirational was photos taken by preteens and children. They seemed professional despite the age.

Not many of the pictures where experimental. Only two. Those two where my favourite by far.

The gallery itself was free for entry and hence was very noisy, baby´s and children where crying like it was the Armageddon. The gallery had white walls and average lighting, nothing ambiental. The junior section was in the middle of the room whilst the general photography was on the walls of the room.

I didn´t think much of the gallery as it was very orientated towards sharpness and quality of image and didn´t have much experimental imagery or anything with a message which is normal due to the theme.

This was the wining image in the gallery:

This digital image is of very low quality but in the exhibit you could notice the strong contrast , depth of field and quality of the image. Because of the altitude at which this image was taken it has a very exciting feeling to it.

London Tate gallery.

I personally really enjoyed this gallery. It contains a mix of various arts and styles. abstract sculpture, paintings of all different type, photography of planes flying around normal locations, like parks and cities, videos with elaborate 3d design, and creations of figures made with lights that occupied the whole main hall. There was truly a varied amount of creations for everyone with different artistic likings.

The lights in the entry are probably my favourite fierce of art. It reminds me of the typical geometrical abstract art but in 3d with lights. The fact that they are white also adds a sense of purity to the hall.

Mostly all pieces where well light besides the main photography exhibit , so the darkness of the room contrasted with the brightness and saturation of the abstract photos. All walls where white. The gallery was free for entry besides the main photography exhibit, which would normally create chaos but didn´t . It was a peaceful and pleasant experience.