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missbasicxxx · 5 years ago

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Peter Parker stumbling on tumblr headcanon

Peter has been roaming New York City as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-man for about a year now

And recently he started to expand his monitoring to platforms other than the local news and Youtube

Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook has been quite fun

A lot of nice selfies

He was happy to see people write so many good comments about him

He also saw some hate comments but well half the school probably thinks that his first name is Penis so yeah he was kinda used to it

I mean, at least nobody was calling him Slutty Spider-man

He shook his head

That was an image that he definitely didn’t want stuck in his head

Anyway

Back to the point

As his search continued, he got to this website called Tumblr

He never heard of it before

Don’t blame him. He’s only 15 and he’s never fanboy-ed anyone except for maybe Mr. Stark in his entire life.

As he quickly created an account and scrolled through #Spiderman, he saw that the top results were mostly memes

But then he saw more and more post about him and...somebody called y/n?

As he read through about him and this y/n person, the more and more mesmerised he became

People were assuming that him and y/n were dating and describing how their relationship would be like

And the funny thing was that the things they were saying, some of them were what Peter also had (sometimes) dreamt of doing when or more likely, if, he had someone special in his life

Flying with her through buildings, tightly embracing her in his arms

Going out on secret late night dates, feet hanging across the rooftop

Checking in on her after patrolling to assure her that he’s safe

But no matter how much he read, he still couldn’t figure out one thing

Who’s y/n?

Well, whoever that is, they must be in a serious relationship with him

A relationship that he didn’t even know of

but would probably enjoy

a lot

like, for real

he would really, really like that

He decides to sleep on it

The next day at school, he suddenly remembers it and turns to his trusty companion

Ned

Hey, dude, I’ve been doing some research on Spider-man yesterday and I saw something that was really weird.

Really? Weird like how? Oh my god did you find out that you’re gonna have baby spiders?

No, not like that! It’s just...do you know this guy y/n?

What?

I think it stands for initials or something. Apparently people thinks that I’m in a relationship with her.

Oh do you mean y/n? Like, as in, “your name”? For you know, fan fiction?

Woah, how did you know that?

You wouldn’t guess the things I saw on the internet searching for that limited edition Luke figurine.

So, what does it mean?

It’s a term that people use when they’re imagining themselves and their idol being in a relationship together. So when you see the word y/n, you’re supposed to read it by putting your name into that spot.

But, why?

Well, cause they want to go out with you I guess.

Wow...really?

After that conversation, Peter was awestruck for the rest of the day

Wow...They want to go out with me...

With...me...

What are you dreaming about this time, Penis Parker?

It went on for about two periods (plus lunch) before it was broken by Flash

Who would want to go out with you?

I’d rather go out with a flat tire than with your dumbass.

Peter silently looked down, avoiding his mean comments

He was probably right

No one wanted to go out with a boring, little, stammering, timid Peter Parker

For gods sakes, the last time he asked out a girl, he was in seventh grade

SEVENTH GRADE

And she said no

The thought of it made Peter’s stomach turn into a knot

What’s wrong, Peter? Did your girlfriend say she couldn’t make it home for Christmas? Where did she live again? Oh, right. Imagination.

Peter gritted his teeth

Flash may be right about Peter, but plenty of people seemed to find Spider-man attractive

And that thought made him feel all bubbly again

People thought he was attractive

Now that was something he wasn’t used to

When he got home, he searched a bit more of Spiderman imagines

That’s what they were called, by the way.

Imagines

He liked the sound of it

He liked the fact that people liked him for reasons other than his acts of justice

And he felt good about himself

Meanwhile...

Flash glanced at his phone as a notification appeared on the lock screen

pstandsforphosphorus liked your post : “Spiderman imagine-saved by the siren”

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #marvel #flash thompson #ned leeds #jacob batalon #tony revolori

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garbagequeer · 5 years ago

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hey hello im writing a piece for laptop ensemble that involves sampling and i need the most repressed/tender/yearning quotes you got. just as gay and heart wrenching as you can. but also no pressure I know youre a stranger on the web I just feel like you post that kind of stuff a lot thank you bye

hope this isnt like too late school keeps me busy :( (also can you put a read more on asks? guess i’ll find out). i ended up choosing many quotes from the same texts cause im indecisive as shit but i’ll bold my favorites from those in case that makes it easier for you!

anyways first of all you can never go wrong w richard siken as obvious as that is. these are both from you are jeff

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

Let’s say you’ve swallowed a bad thing and now it’s got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you’re happy anyway, and that’s okay, it’s a love story

this one’s from planet of love (the format got fucked bc tumblr is not actually a finctional website but :/ )

I have a megaphone and you play along, because you want to die for love, you always have. Imagine this:You’re pulling the car over. Somebody’s waiting. You’re going to die in your best friend’s arms. And you play along because it’s funny, because it’s written down,you’ve memorized it,

from litany in which certain things are crossed out

I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re really there.Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live? Let me do it right for once,

sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud. Especially that, but I should have known.You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I sayor love me back.

We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too, smiling and crying in a way that made meeven more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but I just couldn’t say it out loud.Actually, you said Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying. No one will ever want to sleep with you.

from snow and dirty rain

I had a dream about you. We were in the gold roomwhere everyone finally gets what they want.

that scene from when harry met sally where sally says:

One day I was taking Alice’s little girl fro the afternoon. I’d promised to take her to the circus, and we were in a cab playing “I spy” - you know, “I spy a lamppost”, “I spy a mailbox” - and she looked out the window and there was this man and this woman with two little kids, and the man had one of the kids on his shoulders, and Alice’s little girl said “I spy a family”, and I satrted crying, you know? I just started crying, and I went home

(like anyone else sometimes cries when u see a family doing something nice? is it because i want to participate in a sense of family of my own but have been excluded as a gay person from it’s portrayals and it makes me go :^( cause i dont feel there’s room for me there but i want there to be and i just have to long for this nuclear family heteronormative way of life that i’ve been made to believe is idylic? is it because my parents got divorced and my dad’s an ass and my mom is just a very angry lady and i want to re-do my own childhood? who knows. should we ban movies? yes we should!)

from maurice (ultimate source of tender)

“There was something better in life than this rubbish, if only he could get to it, love, nobility, big spaces where passion clasped peace, spaces no science could reach, but they existed for ever, full of woods some of them, and arched with majestic sky and a friend”

‘Did you ever dream you had a friend, Alec? Nothing else but just “my friend”, he trying to help you and you him. A friend’ he repeated, sentimental suddenly. ‘Someone to last your whole life and you his. I suppose such a thing can’t really happen outside sleep’

we are all so lucky i don’t actually own maurice in english this would just turn into me quoting the whole book

ee cummings voices to voices, lip to lip

the thing perhaps isto eat flowers and not to be afraid.

from virgina woolf’s letters to vita

7 september 1925

january 21 1926 vita writes

I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this—But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it …

and on january 26 virginia writes back

Your letter from Trieste came this morning—But why do you think I don’t feel, or that I make phrases? ‘Lovely phrases’ you say which rob things of reality. Just the opposite. Always, always, always I try to say what I feel. Will you then believe that after you went last Tuesday—exactly a week ago—out I went into the slums of Bloomsbury, to find a barrel organ. But it did not make me cheerful … And ever since, nothing important has happened—Somehow its dull and damp. I have been dull; I have missed you. I do miss you. I shall miss you. And if you don’t believe it, you’re a longeared owl and ass. Lovely phrases? …

from virginia’s diary, about vita on december 21 1925

I like her and being with her and the splendour–she shines in the grocer’s shop in Sevenoaks with a candle lit radiance, stalking on legs like beech trees, pink glowing, grape clustered, pearl hung.

from virginia woolf’s to the light house

What device for becoming, like waters poured into one jar, inextricably the same, one with the object one adored? Could the body achieve, or the mind, subtly mingling in the intricate passages of the brain? or the heart? Could loving, as people called it, make her and Mrs Ramsay one? for it was not knowledge but unity that she desired, not inscriptions on tablets, nothing that could be written in any language known to men, but intimacy itself, which is knowledge, she had thought, leaning her head on Mrs Ramsay’s knee. Nothing happened. Nothing! Nothing! as she leant her head against Mrs Ramsay’s knee. And yet, she knew knowledge and wisdom were stored up in Mrs Ramsay’s heart.

Love had a thousand shapes. There might be lovers whose gift it was to choose out the elements of things and place them together and so, giving them a wholeness not theirs in life, make of some scene, or meeting of people (all now gone and separate), one of those globed compacted things over which thought lingers, and love plays.

there forced themselves upon her other things, her own inadequacy, her insignificance, keeping house for her father off the Brompton Road, and had much ado to control her impulse to fling herself (thank Heaven she had always resisted so far) at Mrs Ramsay’s knee and say to her—but what could one say to her? “I’m in love with you?” No, that was not true. “I’m in love with this all,” waving her hand at the hedge, at the house, at the children. It was absurd, it was impossible

(fun fact: the spanish translation adds something that i’d translate as “one could not say what one meant / what one wanted to say”, which i really like and i was disapointed to find out isnt on the english edition)

It was love, she thought, pretending to move her canvas, distilled and filtered; love that never attempted to clutch its object; but, like the love which mathematicians bear their symbols, or poets their phrases, was meant to be spread over the world and become part of the human gain. So it was indeed. The world by all means should have shared it

from the great gatsby

I didn’t want to go to the city. I wasn’t worth a decent stroke of work but it was more than that—I didn’t want to leave Gatsby. I missed that train, and then another, before I could get myself away (…) Just before I reached the hedge I remembered something and turned around. ‘They’re a rotten crowd,’ I shouted across the lawn. ‘You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.’ I’ve always been glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever gave him

from kafka’s diaries

may 27 1911: Today is your birthday, but I am not even sending you the usual book, for it would be only pretence; at bottom I am after all not in position to give you a book. I am writing only because it is so necessary for me today to be near you for a moment

parts from a from a letter he wrote to oskar pollak on february 4 1902

When we talk together the words are hard; we tread over them as if they were rough pavement. The most delicate things acquire awkward feet and we can’t help it. We’re almost in each other’s way; I bump into you and you - I don’t dare and you. When we come to things that are not exactly cobblestones or the Kunstwart, we suddenly see that we are in masquerade, acting with angular faces (especially me, I admit), and then we become sad and bored. Does anyone make you as bored as I do?

then I fall silent and you fall silent and you become bored, and I become bored and it’s all like a stupid hangover and there’s no use lifting a hand. But neither wants to say this to the other, out of shame or fear or - You see, we are afraid of each other, or I am.

Of course I understand it. It’s boring to stand for years in front of an ugly wall and it just won’t crumble away. Of course, but the wall is afraid for itself, fro the garden (if there is one), and you get out of sorts, yawn, have headaches, don’t know where to turn

You often talk with her, not only for the sake of talking. You walk around with her somewhere here or there, or in Roztok, and i sit at my desk at home. You talk with her, and in the middle of a sentence somebody jumps up and makes a bow. That is me with my untrimmed words and angular faces. That lasts only a moment, and then you go on talking. I sit at my desk at home and yawn. I’ve been trhough it already. Wouldn’t that separate us? Is that so strange? Are we enemies? I am very fond of you

from his leters to milena

Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.

jane wong. from clearing

We want to believe everything has meaning.Plums blossom over a power grid

and I am in love again. The shame of it.

from leslie harrison’s [sirens]

I’m not Penelope married to faith married to waitingbound in fine soft strands of silk dyed and stretchedin my world longing has teeth and fins has a tastefor blood longing is a room built entirely of knives

Lorde’s melodrama tour interlude

Don’t you wish you could go inside a heart, see the strings and atrium’s, everything beating and bleeding. It’s kind of funny, I spend almost every minute thinking about love. Being guided, and divided by love. But I’ve never seen it. It’s just a rumour, a comedown, an afterglow. I wanna see it, in colour. In the summer, I can almost picture it

from Andrea Long Chu’s on liking women

One day, you tell yourself, it will give you what you want. Then, one day, it doesn’t. Now it dawns on you that your object will probably never give you what you want. But this is not what’s disappointing, not really. What’s disappointing is what happens next: nothing. You keep your object. You continue to follow it around, stash it in a drawer, water it, tweet at it. It still doesn’t give you what you want—but you knew that. You have had another realization: not getting what you want has very little to do with wanting it. Knowing better usually doesn’t make it better. You don’t want something because wanting it will lead to getting it. You want it because you want it

ada limón, In a Mexican Restaurant I Recall How Much You Upset Me

But love is impossible and it goes ondespite the impossible. You’re the muscleI cut from the bone and still the boneremembers, still it wants (so much, it wants)the flesh back, the real thing,if only to rail against it, if onlyto argue and fight, if only to missa solve-able absence.

i dont think i need to get into mitski songs because you probably already know but basically pink in the night/come into the water/once more to see you/in happy when she says if you’re going take the train so i can hear it rumble one last rumble/in i want you from the first verse to the first time she goes “i just need a quiet place where i can scream how i love you” (YES the card thing is very important)/the first verse of i will (w emphasis on everything you feel is good i f you wold only let you)/abbey/strawberry blond

sufjan steven’s futile devices obviously predatory wasp of the palisades you know the drill

was going to find some twin fantasy lyrics but i started thinking about famous prophets (minds) and like. emotionally left my body so. i wont be thinking about it or any other songs anymore it makes me too crazy

from frances ha

It’s that thing when you’re with someone and you love them and they know it and they love you and you know it but it’s a party and you’re both talking to other people and you’re laughing and shining and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes. But not because you’re possessive, or it’s precisely sexual, but because that is your person in this life and it’s funny and sad but only because this life will end and it’s this secret world that exists right there. In public. Unnoticed. That no one else knows about. It’s sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.

from ellen lee’s notes on twin fantasy that i revisit constantly

there’s no going back to deliver these words to the ones they were really meant for. That’s how heartbreak feels, I guess. It feels like your heart in between the teeth of someone who’s looking away. When you’ve lost your loved object, what happens to all the things you have to say to them? When they’re turned away, what happens to all the things that you couldn’t, but desperately need(ed) to, say to their face? He dissociates himself from his own romance until it becomes a fantasy. You have your bleeding heart, you have a finite set of memories — when nothing new enters and you’re unwilling to let go, then you have a fantasy. The loved object enters into you and transforms.

the journey home by dermot bolger(havent read this at all dont really plan to/dont know a thing about it either i just came across this shit like 2 years ago and i still think about it)

I wanted to hurt him; I wanted just to touch him. What I wanted I’m not really sure. If he had stopped and opened his arms I would have walked towards him; I would have sat on the kerb all night with him

adam b, sweet i have a (really gay) heart

i feel like my body is the extension of a lake. i feel really badabout not telling you the truth, sometimes. i feelreally small next to you. tall boys remind me of bean stalks.i wish i had your legs. i wish i could know your handsbefore i even touch them

aaaand i think that’s all i could think of and track down, hope this is actually helpful and not too long (i am indecisive no kidding). also ksjdfg it’s nice that you thought to ask me this and i did have fun going over all these quotes so thank you 💖💖💖

#answered #i hope this fits what you were looking for!!#and i hope read mores are working on mobile djfgk #c #thing #Anonymous

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acaseforpencils · 5 years ago

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David Ostow.

Bio: I'm a cartoonist and stay-at-home dad, not necessarily in that order. I came late to cartooning, because I thought I wanted to be an architect. In grad school, my professors were always hung up on the fact that I was more interested in drawing pretty pictures than in designing interesting spaces. Anyway, they graduated me, and should really answer for the disservice they did to the design industry.

Find this print here!

I came to cartooning by way of illustrating some books for my sister who's an author. To date, my work has also appeared in and on a combination of print publications and websites, including The New Yorker, Mcsweeney's Internet Tendency, The American Bystander, Buzzfeed, and The Weekly Humorist. My work and I were also featured in a New York Times piece about artists addressing gentrification in their work. I don't know if that counts. Does that count?

I live in New York City with my son and my wife, whose support is the reason I'm not drawing on grocery bags in my parents' basement, and raking their yard for allowance.

Tools of choice: Where to begin? I got an iPad Pro earlier this year, and I've been using it pretty exclusively since. But finding and experimenting with tools has been an odyssey unto itself for me, and I'd be remiss not to give a bit of history.

I started out employing a lot of the tools that I learned about in the architecture world. I went to UVA, and when I was there my sketching professor [fun fact: he was also the mayor!*] encouraged us to draw with Micron pens using a very loose hand. Check out the sketches of Michael Graves, and you'll see what we were emulating. My hand was naturally pretty shaky. Years of drawing have rendered it less so, but at the time, my peers teased me (in good fun) for being a teacher's pet with my wobbly broken lines. That introduction to sketching was definitely formative to the style I would eventually develop for cartooning. Sometimes I find myself trying to force my hand to be as wobbly as it used to be.

Architecture school was also where I first began using Photoshop as a diagramming tool, and I became more facile with it when I moved into the professional world, where it's a common tool for rendering presentation drawings. Since then, Photoshop has been my go-to for applying washes and colors to my drawings, although now that I have an iPad and I'm experimenting with Procreate, the Photoshop era may be coming to a close.

After taking a class on comics creation at The New School in Manhattan, I got up the nerve to add some ink and brushes into my toolkit, and while it was an adjustment, it was also fun to have a brand new way of making varied and expressive lines. At the height of my "pre-digital" period, I was using a combination of ink and technical pens. The accompanying photo shows my spread in more detail. All the tools pictured are easy to find, and easy to use, and I recommend them for anyone looking to take a stab at drawing cartoons or comics.

From there, I waded slowly and awkwardly into the world of digital drawing. I had a hybrid moment when I was roughing my drawings in pencil, scanning them, using a Wacom tablet to ink in a program called Clip Studio, and then adding colors / washes in Photoshop. It was an incredible time suck, but, for what it's worth, the cartoons I produced that way were some of the first I sold to The New Yorker. So there's that.

Since getting my iPad I've been drawing with Procreate, which seems to be the preferred drawing application among my iPad savvy colleagues, and which I enjoy, but I feel like I'm still getting comfortable with it. When it comes to new technology, I have a habit of doing the bare minimum to educate myself, and every time I need clarity on a finer point I'll do a tad more research. It's called the "Dave Ostow Kicking and Screaming Method" and I recommend it to no one.

Tool I wish I could use better: I've never had any formal fine arts training, so I lack the kind of mastery of many traditional tools that some of my peers have attained as a matter of course. One time I tried to use a dip pen, and was so overwhelmed by how hard it was to draw a single line that I put it in my drawer and just kind of forgot about it.

I also used to own a set of Koh-i-noor Rapidograph pens, which make amazing lines, but require saintlike patience to maintain. The nibs are super delicate and If you're not careful, they'll break and leak (or — worse — explode) all over your drawing.

In an ideal world, I would have the patience and time to master some of these more traditional and delicate tools, and I think I'd be a better artist for it. Maybe some day, but right now my schedule doesn't allow for much extracurricular activity.

Tool I wish existed: Kind of a no-brainer: an iPad / digital tablet that felt almost indistinguishable from real pen and paper. Think the Beyond Meat burger of digital drawing tools.

The iPad is great, and of course it's wonderful to have digital editing capabilities, but there's simply no hiding the fact that you're drawing on a screen that lacks the kind of tooth you'd get from dragging a pen across paper. Also, when I zoom in to do detail work, I'm always thrown by the pixelation.

I'm sure the more I use the iPad, the better I'll get at tweaking the settings to my liking. Like I said, when change is involved, I sometimes drag my feet. But that's okay. As a good friend who's also really my therapist said, "Maybe that's just the way you work."

Tricks: Not a trick so much as a suggestion: If you're drawing on an iPad or some other sort of tablet, get a matte protective cover. It will reduce glare, and soften the feel of the screen against your stylus, so you get an experience more like drawing on paper, albeit only slightly so.

Misc: Yes, that is a Dan Smith Will Teach You Guitar flyer on my bulletin board. I found it on the subway and it just seemed like a fun authentic New York artifact that was calling to be preserved. I look at it every now and again, and find it oddly inspiring. That picture of Dan Smith has been circulating around the city for God knows how many decades. What does Dan Smith look like today and would he still teach me guitar?

Website, etc.

Website

Instagram

New Yorker Link

Conde Nast Store

*Editor’s note: I went to Charlottesville High School with Mayor Cox’s son! I also went to UVA, though not at the same time as David. Small world!

Also, I happily do this blog for free, though there are a lot of hidden expenses that I take care of myself. If you enjoy this blog, and would like to help defray labor and maintenance costs, there is a Patreon! Or if you’d prefer to buy me a cup of coffee, there is a Ko-Fi account as well (which is essentially a PayPal donation)! Your support means a lot, and I'm grateful to everyone who has donated!

You can also find more posts about art supplies on Case’s Instagram and Twitter! Thank you!

#David ostow #how to draw New Yorker cartoons #cartoons #how to draw cartoons #art supplies #artists on tumblr #art process

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touristguidebuzz · 7 years ago

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Meet the Team: The Many Faces of Nomadic Matt

From tech and coding to design to fixing bugs getting readers books when downloads fail to scheduling social media or running the forums, it takes a village to run this website. I simply couldn’t run the website, write, travel, eat, sleep, or anything in between if I didn’t have the support and help of an amazing group of people – and I think it’s time you formally met them all! So, without further ado, here’s team Nomadic Matt:

Erica

Erica has been working for me for over three and a half years and is my director of global operations i.e. right hand woman. She keeps this ship afloat. In her own words:

I grew up in Connecticut and went to school in Virginia. During a quarter-life crisis at age 21, I chose to finish my last year of college on an adventure in Qatar! From that moment on, my life revolved around traveling cheaply with the money I earned from waitressing. That budget got me to teach English in Isaan, Thailand, and South Korea; farm on St. Vincent and the Grenadines in the Caribbean; and volunteer in rural Zambia. At age 26, I returned home to Connecticut, determined to get a job in travel. Soon after, I met Nomadic Matt at a travel meet-up in NYC, and the rest is history.

I whole-heartedly believe that traveling makes friends of strangers, and the more friends there are in the world, the more peace there is in the world.

13 Facts about Me

At 15, I helped build a schoolhouse in Nicaragua.

Living in a termite clay hut without electricity or running water in Zambia for six months was probably one of the most trying (and simple), exciting (and boring), and perspective-shifting experiences of my life.

I’ve cut off my hair and donated it to Locks of Love, twice!

I once hunted for possums on the island of St. Vincent with a bunch of Rastafarians. We caught four and made soup.

In Costa Rica, I stayed at in a sustainable living community called Rancho Mastatal, where I learned how to farm yuca, make beer out of turmeric, and build a house out of cob.

When I was 15, John Stamos kissed my cheek after I saw him in Cabaret on Broadway.

I taught English in South Korea for 14 months and was able to easily save enough money for 21 months of non-stop travel.

This music video I made used to be one of the top hits when you searched for St. Vincent and the Grenadines.

In Zambia, my friend and I were given a live chicken as a present. We were vegetarians, so we traded it for a pair of second-hand jeans at the market.

I got 19 people (the students and teachers on the FLYTE trip) into an airport lounge for free. I think that’s a travel hacking record!

I’ve attended a Qatari princess’s wedding sporting mink eyelashes.

In Korea, I dated a guy who spoke no English and we basically communicated through drawing pictures and reciting American rap lyrics.

I think Matt spends a majority of his day editing out my exclamation points from my research, emails, newsletters, etc! (Matt says: This is very true.)

Christopher O.

Chris joined the team as the part-time manager of the forums back in 2015. Since then, he’s branched out into the Superstar Blogging program and our soon-to-be-launched community platform, Nomadic Network. In his own words:

I grew up in a small town in Ontario, Canada, and spent my formative years listening to punk rock, reading Star Wars novels, and generally getting up to no good. After ditching my lifelong plan to be a lawyer, I decided to give travel a try. I headed to Costa Rica on a whim and have never looked back! It wasn’t long after that trip that I took a break from university (where I was studying history and theatre) to move to a monastery in Japan in 2007. I’ve more or less been wandering around ever since. Some notable adventures include taking the Trans-Siberian Railway across Russia and Mongolia, walking the Camino de Santiago twice, and going on a 10-day road trip around Iceland with complete strangers. When I’m not traveling, I live in Sweden and can be found reading, writing, or struggling to improve at chess.

13 Facts about Me

I spent nine months living in Buddhist monasteries.

I lived in a tent for a year.

I was once stalked by a jaguar and chased by a crocodile — on the same trip.

I haven’t had alcohol in 13 years.

I’ve broken all my fingers and toes, and my nose three times, and I’ve fractured both my wrists.

I worked on an organic farm for 11 years.

I co-owned a restaurant in Canada.

I grew up next door to Avril Lavigne.

I once ate an entire nine-course meal (I was the only person there to eat everything!).

I played inter-mural Quidditch in high school and was our team’s Seeker.

I have a Star Wars tattoo.

I’ve been vegan for 12 years.

I have a scar from a fight that broke out over which Norse god was “the best.”

Chris R.

Chris, aka The Aussie Nomad, is a (kinda) former blogger who does all the tech and development work for the website. He keeps it running, fixes any errors you find, and deals with my constantly changing design desires. In his own words:

I’m living the good life in Western Australia by the beach with my amazing family. I got into the world of blogging after quitting my job, backpacking around Europe and, as all Aussies do, undertaking a working holiday in the UK. Like all of us who travel and fall in love with it, nobody wants to go home afterwards.

That adventure got me into creating a travel blog many years ago, which is how I first came to know Matt. I have since repurposed my IT skills from my old life and formed my own business to help out other bloggers with their websites.

13 Facts about Me

I love Belgian beer (and I even married a Belgian).

I’ve worked with Matt the longest out of anyone here. (Take that team!)

I took off to backpack Europe when I was 29.

I’m an advocate for Vegemite and believe all visitors to Australia must try this national treasure.

One of my favorite activities is to take a long road trip, especially with family and friends.

I have no idea how four-way stop signals in the U.S.A. don’t all end up as accidents.

I do not drink Fosters. It’s a terrible beer. No one in Australia actually drinks it.

I like to think of myself as an amateur photographer.

I failed kindergarten as I wouldn’t say goodbye to the teacher.

My first job was working in a supermarket.

I can’t sleep on a plane – no matter how long the flight is.

I can name every Thomas the Tank Engine character thanks to my son.

I don’t drink coffee or get people’s love for it. Tea all the way!

Raimee

Raimee is the newest team member and does all our social media. She schedules posts, tweaks my terrible photos so they look good on Instagram, builds our content calendar, and creates all our quote & Pinterest graphics! In her own words:

When I was just 14 years old, I took my first international trip to Honduras and Belize with my family. Ever since then, I’ve been hooked on experiencing new cultures, connecting with people from all walks of life, and learning about myself and the world through the power of travel! After graduating with a degree in advertising and marketing from Michigan State University and four years as a digital marketing specialist, I realized that corporate life was not for me. My insatiable need to experience the world beyond a desk led me to search for a job-related to travel. I’ve followed this blog for many years, and now I get to work for it remotely while I strategize, manage, and report on the social media accounts — and I love every second of it!

13 Facts about Me

I’m obsessed with Harry Potter. I’ve read each book at least 10 times, and, if I told you how many times, I’ve watched each of the movies, you probably wouldn’t believe me.

I once “hung out” with Daniel Radcliffe at a Red Wings game in Detroit, and actually kept my cool the entire time.

Visiting the Harry Potter studio tour in London was one of the best days of my life.

My mom was obsessed with the 80’s horror movie Evil Dead directed by Sam Raimi, so she named me after him.

After having visited about 30 countries, Iceland is still my favorite.

My biggest travel dream is to take a road trip around New Zealand!

The most fun I’ve had on a trip was on my first solo backpacking trip through Europe when I used Couchsurfing.

I used to play the saxophone.

I conquered my fear of heights by jumping off a cliff in Croatia — twice!

I love languages and was close to being fluent in German during college.

I’m terrified of flying.

In another life, I would have been a film director/producer. Maybe some day!

My favorite number is 13.

Nomadic Matt

And, finally, there’s me. You probably know a lot about me after nine and half years of blogging (sometimes I forget how long it’s been), but here’s a quick refresh:

Growing up in Boston, I was never a big traveler. I didn’t take my first trip overseas until 2004. That trip changed my life and opened me up to the possibilities the world had to offer. One year later, I went to Thailand, where I met five backpackers who inspired me to quit my job and travel the world. In 2006, I left for a yearlong backpacking trip — and have been “nomadic” ever since.

13 Facts about Me

I love politics as much as I love travel and will debate for the joy for it.

I love to cook — and I’m kinda good at it too!

When I was in high school, I was my state’s champ in “Magic: the Gathering.” I know — super nerdy, right? It got me a free trip NYC with my friend (who came in number two!).

I always worry about the future and often use my time back home to develop skills needed for the Zombie Apocalypse. Shout-out to my prepper friend Vanessa for teaching me about seeds!

I once met Paul Giamatti on the streets of NYC and he was as grumpy as I imagined.

I am an unabashed Taylor Swift fan and can’t wait for her new album!

Kevin Spacey is my favorite actor, and I’ve seen The Usual Suspects twenty times.

I believe aliens exist. It’s mathematically impossible they don’t.

I’m terrified of flying.

I learned to swing dance so I could throw myself a Gatsby-themed birthday party.

Both sides of my family came through Ellis Island and you can see their names on the wall where they list all the immigrants.

I used to be the head of a program by the Massachusetts Sierra Club that promoted energy efficiency.

I went to college to be a high school history teacher.

***Also, I’d like to acknowledge our part-timers too: Candice, who helps with admin and research; Richard, our fearless copyeditor (whose efforts I often ruin by changing posts last minute); Keith, our design genius; Brice and Julie, our user experience gurus; and Courtney, who keeps our charity, FLYTE, up in the air with her executive directing wizard ways!

So there you have it! The Nomadic Matt team! It’s weird to think this blog I started to simply be online résumé for freelance jobs now requires eleven people to run. I always thought the more systems, automation, products, and passive income I set up, the easier it would be. I could just sit on a beach. But it seems the more we do, the more we create, the more projects I tell the team we’re taking on, the more help we require. I guess that is the nature of the beast but I would have it no other way. I love what we do here. We help a lot of people realize their dreams.

And a guy couldn’t ask for better co-workers to help make that happen.

The post Meet the Team: The Many Faces of Nomadic Matt appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

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fadingfartconnoisseur · 7 years ago