#but if I was to design a horse girl that would be the focal point of her outfit

[bred-crumbs]

Chunky socks over boots is soo horse core

[lil-tachyon]

Your art has such a moebius like quality that i always struggle to replicate. Do you have any tips you could share?

Hey thanks for the question! I’m a complete amateur and Moebius is, in my estimation, one of the most skilled visual artists of the last century so please take everything I have to say with a grain of salt while I answer your question. This all comes from my own experience and I am still learning. 

First of all my main piece of advice for anybody drawing anything: if you want to get good, assume that you know nothing, start from the beginning, practice fundamentals, and draw every day, even if it’s just for like 15 minutes. No amount of art advice is worth anything if you don’t draw.

Now to address your question about how to replicate a ‘Moebius-like Quality,’ I would say what you need to do is study him very carefully.

When I first started drawing seriously and getting super into Moebius and all that I made the mistake of thinking “Okay, this is just simple lines and bright, mostly flat colors underneath. Not too hard to replicate.” Which couldn’t be further from the truth. Moebius’ art has this thing about it where it can often appear really simple but you try to recreate it and you find yourself hitting a wall. Let’s look at an example:

This looks like what I said, right? Clean lines, striking color palette. But there’s more to that. First of all, the fact that the gigantic flat black shape at the bottom of the piece conveys simultaneously the impression of the girl on the left leaning against the chest of the central figure and the boy on right fading into the back of composition while not containing any detail itself should clue you in to how much of a master good o’l Gir is and how much thought and knowledge had to go into designing this piece. There’s more.

If we zoom in on the head we can learn a bit. This is the focal point of the piece and, as such, this is where all the detail is. Where lines are used sparingly throughout the rest of the comp, here they provide an abundance of detail for the central figure’s elaborate headdress with contour lines defining the shape of the yellow crest and other lines throughout intimating textile patterns. The colors are striking but they’re not just random bright colors.

There’s the light blue of the background, a smattering of desaturated purple/red colors in the headdress, and the yellow of the crest. Let’s look at a color wheel:

You should notice that yellow is on the opposite side of the wheel from the entire blue-purple section. Yellow contrasts with blues and purples. Thus, just that tiny bit of yellow is enough to make it totally pop out from the rest of the more desaturated blues and purples in the piece. So, not just some random bright colors, but some carefully thought out areas of low and high color contrast.

Let’s look at another example:

A small piece but so effective. Notice how in the top, the horizontal lines begin super tightly packed and spread to create a gradient from pack to white. Notice how the line weight increases between the shadowed and light sides of the mushroom cloud to brilliantly indicate a core shadow. Notice how the horse and rider are mostly just black shapes- but they’re composed in such a way that your mind knows exactly what they represent. Notice how the hatching that creates the ground texture also points towards the cowboy’s head as a focal point.

Another one:

Look at the linework on this. The way he varies the lineweights to indicate changes in value. The way each line describes the form of the figure and his clothes. How the lines create texture. No line here was put down by chance- each one has a purpose and Moebius knew the purpose of every mark he put on a paper.

So, I guess part one of my answer is you gotta really put the work into being a good artist and use Moebius as your guide. Get good with pens, be able to vary your lineweights, be confident with all different kinds of hatching styles, etc. Read up on color theory and see how Giraud applied it. Every new thing you learn, take that knowledge and use it to study your favorite artists and see how they applied it. That’s how you learn.

There’s a little more though and this applies to the content of Moebius’ art.

Here’s a side-by-side comparison of the Moebius’ concept art for the unmade 1970’s Dune movie with a screenshot from the new Dune movie. What makes them different? As bizarre as the Moebius design is, it feels a hundred times more real to me than the armor pictured on the right. There’s a specificity to it. Where the Moebius design feels like the result of generations of tradition and culture resulting in an outfit as elaborate, unconventional, and distinctive as that of an Ottoman Janissary, a Landsknecht, or a Samurai, the image on the right looks like a generic assemblage of armor plates with no history behind them. 

As fantastic as Moebius’ work is, it definitely has a basis in the real world. I mean, he spent years illustrating a gritty, down-to-earth cowboy comic. All his designs feel distinct and specific and I would venture to say that a lot of that comes from taking an interest in real world cultures and traditions. 

I think this is true of all real good science fiction and fantasy artists. They know how to take something from the real world and twist it to their own ends. 

I hope this answers your question and helps you find joy in creating art. That’s what it’s all about.

For more reading, here’s a William Stout article on the subject: https://www.williamstout.com/news/journal/?p=3806

As a postscript, I’ll include some other artists that I think anyone who is a fan of Moebius should check out.

Sergio Toppi:

Katsuya Terada:

Katsuhiro Otomo:

Mark Schultz:

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

The Last Word: Shirley Manson on Fighting the Patriarchy and How Patti Smith Inspires Her

The Garbage singer also talks racial justice, living for now, and why legacy is an inherently masculine concern

Almost as soon as Garbage’s self-titled debut blew up overnight in 1995, their singer, Shirley Manson, became aware of the patriarchy running the music industry. Even though she was the group’s focal point — belting dusky electro-rock songs about making sense of depression (“Only Happy When It Rains”) and taking pride in nonconformity (“Queer”) — she was still a woman fronting a band of men, one of whom, Butch Vig, had produced Nirvana’s Nevermind. Almost immediately, she felt as though her role in the group was being devalued — not by the guys she worked with, but externally.

“There was a lot of stuff written about me in the music press, and that’s when I started to realize how I’m being diminished, how, in some cases, I’m being completely eradicated from the narrative because I’m female and not a man,” she says now. “I was talked over by lawyers; I was ignored by managers. The list goes on. It’s boring and tedious; there’s no point in me moaning about it now, but certainly, that was my awakening.”

That revelation emboldened her to speak out about equality and she quickly became a feminist icon, using her platform to bring attention to human rights, mental health, and the AIDS crisis. All the while, she wrote inclusive hit songs with Garbage about androgyny and reproductive rights (“Sex Is Not the Enemy”). On Garbage’s great new album, No Gods No Masters, she grapples with racial injustice, climate change, the patriarchy, and her own self-worth. But as weighty as the subject matter is, she approaches each song in her own uniquely uplifting way.

“I don’t think really the record is serious, per se,” the singer, 54, says, on an early May phone call. “I think it’s an indignant record. I think in indignance you can still carry humor with you, as well as softness, kindness, and love in your heart. I just felt it would be inauthentic to say anything other than what I was saying in my daily life across the dinner table from my friends and my family. I think as you get older as an artist, the challenge is, ‘How I can be my most authentic self?’ because that’s the most unique story I can tell. In an industry that’s just absolutely jam-packed to the rafters with ideas, opinions, melodies, and so on, you can’t afford to be anything other than your most authentic self. It won’t last.”

Authenticity and being true to herself are the qualities that have made Manson who she is. And those traits seem to guide her answers to Rolling Stone’s questions about philosophy, life lessons, and creature comforts for our Last Word interview.

What are the most important rules that you live by? I’m 54, which is ancient for the contemporary music industry. At this point, I feel like if it’s not fun, then I’m uninterested entirely. If somebody’s treating me poorly, I have to walk away. Life is so fricking short, and I’m three quarters of the way through mine already; I just want to have a good life, full of joy.

Who are your heroes and why? Patti Smith is a huge hero for me for a lot of different reasons. Most importantly, it’s because she’s a woman who has navigated her creative life so beautifully and so artfully, with such integrity and authenticity, and she has proven to me that a woman, an artist, does not have to subscribe to the rules of the contemporary music industry.

It’s very rare for other women to see examples of women actually working still in their seventies. That, to me, is really thrilling and really inspiring, and it fills me with hope. At times when you come up against the ageism, sexism, and misogyny that exists in our culture, I always try and picture Patti in my mind’s eye, and it always brings me back to center, like, “OK, adhere to your own rules. Design your own life. Be your own architect. You can continue to be an artist the rest of your life.” And to me, that’s life. That is a fully lived life.

You’re also a role model yourself. How do you handle that responsibility? I’m a bit speechless if the truth be told. I realize that I’ve now enjoyed a long career in music, and by default, I think people are inspired by that. I think whenever you see an artist, no matter who they are, when someone can endure, I think that’s exciting to everybody else, because it’s a message that says, “You too can get up when you think you’re done. You too can brush yourself off and try again.” By just continuing, you can help other people continue and fulfill themselves in ways that they thought they wouldn’t be able to.

I try to be a decent person. I make mistakes. I fuck people off. I say stupid shit. I’m not all-knowing; I am ignorant in so many ways. But I do try my best. I think that’s really all I can ask of myself.

How others perceive me is absolutely out of my control. There’s always going to be people who think I’m an arsehole, and that’s just part and parcel of being in the public eye. People are just going to hate on you, so I try not to take too much of it in; I don’t let it absorb me too much. I have gotten to that point in my life when I’m able to just go, “You know what? Fuck it. You can’t win them all.”

You once said that the idea of legacy was a masculine construct that you don’t believe in. Do you still feel that way? Yeah. I still very much believe in that. I know a lot of male artists who bang on about their legacy and their importance. Not to knock that if that’s what’s important to you but for me personally, what do I care? I’m going to be dead and gone and totally unconscious of any so-called legacy that I might leave behind. I want fun now. I want to have a good life now. I want to eat good food now and have great sex. It’s absolutely meaningless to me what happens after I’m gone. I want to use my time wisely, and that’s all that I really am concerned with, to be honest.

What is it about legacy that’s inherently masculine? This is armchair psychology, so please forgive me, but I’m sure it has something to do with how women have this uterus that can bear children. I think that’s profound. One of the few gifts that men have not been given is that ability to create with your body, and your blood, and your heat and all these nutrients from your body. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why you don’t hear as many women banging on about the great legacy they’re going to leave behind. I think for women it’s their kids.

You’re Scottish. What is the most Scottish thing about you these days? I’ve got a lot of grit, and it’s served me really well in my career. I think that is a really Scottish trait. The Scottish people are tough, and they also have a good sense of humor. So, grit with humor. I should say “gritted with humor,” in the same way we grit roads.

As you were saying “grit,” it occurred to me that a lot of your songs are about survival and moving forward, going back to “Stupid Girl” or “Only Happy When It Rains.” They’re about perseverance. [Pauses] I think it’s funny you should say that because I’m just sort of like, “Wow, he might be right.” I do think that a huge theme for me is, “How do you overcome? How do we all overcome?” Things can be great for a while; things will not be great forever. And to every single life, these challenges appear. We all have to reconfigure ourselves in order to try to hurl ourselves over obstacles in order to have the kind of life we hope for. So I do think you’ve shocked me a little by discovering a theme for me. Yay, I feel thrilled. I have a theme. It’s exciting.

“Waiting for God” is one of my favorite songs on the album because of the way you address racial justice. How can we, as a society, fight white indifference? You know, that’s a question right there. It’s interesting that you use the words “white indifference,” because one of the things that shocked me so greatly is the ambivalence and the apathy of white people all over the world who are seeing what we’re seeing on our TVs and on the internet, and yet not having the moral courage to speak up. I think the most important thing we can do is pull back the carpet to see the mess on the floor in order for us to actually start cleaning it up.

If we could curtail some of the brutality of police against black people, that would be a good start. I think it’s going to be decades and decades and decades before we can start to really equalize our societies so that everyone is enjoying the spoils of Western wealth over in the developing world. It’s necessary that we try and help these countries that aren’t as powerful or as wealthy. It’s good for the whole world if we start to improve situations for everyone. Nobody will lose anything, and everyone has everything to gain.

But if I had the answers to how we go about fixing it, I would be in politics and not in music. I just know what I believe to be right, and I’m doing my best to use my voice to try and encourage my friends, my little ecosystem, to start with paying attention and supporting black businesses and elevating black voices and black talent.

What’s your favorite book? I have so many. The one that springs to mind would be American Pastoral by Philip Roth. I loved All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy. I loved The Collected Works of Billy the Kid by Michael Ondaatje. I loved Winnie the Pooh and Wuthering Heights. I’ve got so many that have really stuck with me that are classics.

My most favorite recent book that I’ve just finished reading is Dancer by Colum McCann about [Russian ballet dancer Rudolf] Nureyev. I was just absolutely mesmerized by it. It was just such a fantastic read, and he’s such a miraculous writer. He brought out Apeirogon last year about the struggle in between Palestine and Israel. He talks about this complicated mess with such clarity, kindness, and generosity. I couldn’t believe Apeirogon didn’t get more fuss made of it last year. Somehow it just seemed to get buried in the morass of other books, and of course the suffering that Covid had brought upon the earth.

What advice do you wish you could give your younger self? “Take up your space.” When I was growing up, to be a girl was to be told to minimize the space you took up: “Close your legs. Don’t be loud. Smile. Be cute. Be attractive. Be pleasing.” I inherently balked against that as a kid. I was a rebellious kid, and I wasn’t going to sit in the corner and be quiet. I’ve never been like that. However, looking back, I still notice some of the patterns of my own compliance. It’s not that I hate myself for it, but I just wish I could turn around and say to my young self, “Take your seat. If there’s not a seat there, drag a seat up to the table and sit down.”

I’m still really aware of the sexism and misogyny that I have had to battle throughout my career. I’m not crying, “Woe is me,” because I’ve obviously flourished in my career, and it obviously didn’t hold me back enough to hamper me in any way. But I feel for all the women who were unlike me, who didn’t have my forcefulness of personality, or my education, or my ability to articulate myself. I want that for all people, though; I want all people to stop trying to please, and accept that some people will like that, and some people won’t, and that’s OK. It’s OK that some people just don’t dig you.

On the topic of gender, I got a kick out of your song “Godhead,” where you ask if people would treat you differently “if I had a dick.” I’m really proud of that song, because I think it’s talking about something really serious, and it’s really fun. It’s about addressing the patriarchy, and how omnipresent it is. When I was young, I was so busy trying to make it, I didn’t see that there was a patriarchy in place. And it’s only as an adult, I start looking back going, “Oh, wow — when that A&R man told me to my face that he wanked over pictures of me, that was really uncool.” But at the time, you kind of laugh it off and just press on.

I was oblivious to it. In this song, I’m talking about how patriarchy bleeds into absolutely everything, specifically under organized religion. The “Godhead” is the male, and we are all under the godhead forever, and that’s unquestioned, and how crazy is that? Because a dude holds a higher position in society, because he’s got a dick and a pair of balls. Often, these balls are smaller than my own [laughs].

It just gets silly after a while, when you watch other men protect other men just for the sake of protecting the patriarchy. So few men are willing to speak up about bro culture and call into question the behavior of the men they are associated with. There’s just a reluctance by men to address this absolutely shocking, terrifying, depressing, pathetic assault by men of other people’s bodies.

In 1996, your bandmate Butch Vig said about you, “So many singers screamed to convey intensity, and she does the opposite. It just blew us away.” How did you come up with that approach? I don’t know. I’ve found that when people speak to me quietly, I feel the most threatened because I’m really comfortable with conflict. I thrive on conflict. It excites me in a funny way. When people are shouting, I don’t feel scared. I like to shout back; that’s just how my family were. We’d just start to shout at each other all the time. I’m not scared of elevated temper. For me, when people get really quiet, that’s when I know they’re really serious, because they’re in control of their rage, and that’s when they’re most deadly.

The last question I have is a shallow one. I love being cheap and superficial.

What’s the most indulgent purchase you’ve ever made? At the height of my success, I hired a person who would shop for me and then send everything in a big box to my hotel room. I would choose what I wanted and return anything else. One day, this beautiful pair of Italian leather boots arrived. I wore a pair very similar in the “Stupid Girl” video, and I thought, “Oh, yeah, these are really me. I’m going to keep these. These are amazing.” It was only when I got back from tour, I found out they cost $5,000. I can’t even laugh about it. It makes me so crazy. I still have these boots. I’d like to get rid of them just so that I never have to look at them again, but there they are every day, warning me of my own greed.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 4 of 30]

Summary: Erik struggles with his Wakanda goals and the absence of Yani, while she, in turn, copes with the lack of support from her job and her daughter’s father...

Mature audience only. NSFW.

Looks like this series is going to be longer than 6 parts. Lol, I knew it, just like “Say Less”, I think I can wrap it up in 6, but the characters said “Nope.” I’ll say 9 now, and see where I can tie things up in a neat bow. Which is never really neat with Erik tbh.

Back to the next update....

"But baby Don't get it twisted You was just another nigga on the hit list Tryna fix your inner issues with a bad bitch Didn't they tell you that I was a savage Fuck your white horse and a carriage Bet you never could imagine Never told you you could have it

You needed me Ooh You needed me To feel a little more, and give a little less Know you hate to confess But baby ooh, you needed me…"

Rihanna- "Needed Me"

Yani didn't arrive at the compound Friday morning.

Erik hung around the pool for most of the day waiting to see if she would show up. He didn't pester Leona about where she was, but every time he heard footsteps coming down the walkway, or voices below the pool, he was up and about looking for any signs of her. 

Nothing.

He replayed his contact with her the day before.

He asked for permission to touch her breasts. She consented verbally. The sexual release he received from playing with her nipples, watching those peaks drip with milk gave him the best orgasm he had ever experienced since…shit…since he had been with Disǎ. And that was almost two years ago. His only regret was that he didn't bend down and squeeze the warm liquid into his mouth, swirl the milk on his tongue, see what it tasted like.

Watching her fingers move frantically inside her panties had him curious about what she tasted like down there too. Her eyelids were half slits when he watched her orgasm ripple across her face. And fuck…the sound she made when she was cumming. It made his legs wobble.

The warmth from her lips when he pressed his mouth into hers brought into sharp focus the feelings of displacement in his life. Yes, he was a nomad, going from job to job in the most dangerous regions of the world, but he was used to that, accustomed to living out of duffle bags and airport lounges, his brain configured to collecting data about Wakanda and T'Chaka and compartmentalizing his hierarchy of needs on the most basic survival level. Erik understood and accepted what needed to be done. His purpose. And it was always about moving, moving, moving…

But that kiss, as fleeting as it was…it made him think of being still.

He had never had that experience before.

Even with his ex Disǎ and the deep yearning love he had, and still had for her, he knew that he was going to be in perpetual motion until he was sitting on the throne of Wakanda. Nothing got in the way of that.

Yani was just some random woman on a little rock in the middle of the sea. He had gone through many women over the years in various parts of the world. Black women just as fine if not finer than this one island girl cleaning and cooking for some roughnecks.

What was it about her that had him jumping up every few minutes thinking she was about to appear? Had him making extra excursions up to the front house with excuses that he was hungry or thirsty or had a question about the compound. Had him up all night fantasizing about sucking on her tits while he fucked her nice and slow. Some nine-month-old baby's mother, her pussy probably still recuperating from squeezing out that cute chubby infant…why the hell was he going online looking up info on vaginal sex after childbirth? The hell?

Erik ran his hands over his hair and stood up from the lounge chair for maybe the twentieth time just to make another trek up to the front house. He'd have to ask Leona about her niece in a round-about way before he went back into his room to jack off thinking about heavy tits spurting milk in his mouth. He wanted to leave teeth marks on her areola, deep imprints of his gold slugs…mark her in some kind of way.

"Fuck," he muttered stomping up the steps that took him to Leona.

She was cleaning up in the dining room after making a delicious lobster bisque with grilled tilapia for lunch. He wasn't fond of tilapia, it always tasted dirty to him, but she prepared it with enough seasoning that made it palatable.

"Hello again," she said.

The smile on her lips matched the smile in her eyes, and Erik thought for a moment that she was on to him. He worried that overt interest in Yani would make Leona opt to keep her from working there while he was present. Erik was a killer. She could sense that he was more than just a polite young man showing manners to an elder. He was part of Klaue's team, and he knew that she was also aware of how men like him could turn on a dime.

"My associate Tahir is flying in tomorrow. I'm thinking of taking him back to that club I told you about. Rush?"

"I remember."

"You said your nephew was performing there? What does he do? Sing?"

"He raps. Very good too. A lot of my nieces and nephews do. None as good as Kendall though."

"What day is he performing?"

"Saturday night. I don't know what time he goes on stage, but Yani said it was Saturday. They're all excited about seeing him. It's his first real show."

Yani would be there. Bet.

"Are you going to see him? I can take you with me and Tahir if you don't have a ride—"

"Oh no, that's for you young people. I will be home in my apartment watching my shows. Yani has been trying to get me to go, but….no…"

"I'll record his performance on my phone for you."

"That would be nice, Mr. Killmonger."

He wanted to tell Leona his name, but he wanted to keep some distance too. For now, he only wanted Yani to know it.

He stood watching her for what seemed like an unnecessary amount of time. He had the info he needed, but watching her move about the room reminded him of being with his Nana.

"Can I help you clean or anything?"

She stopped and looked at him, a questioning expression on her face.

"There's not much going on today, pretty much a free day for me," he said.

"You nuh go to the beach?"

"Went twice already. This morning and before lunch," he said.

"I'm surprised you nuh go to St. John like the others," she said changing out placemats for the dining table.

"I'm going on Sunday."

"You like being by yourself, Mr. Killmonger?"

"Most times, yes."

"Things 'round here are pretty much done—"

"You need any help prepping dinner?"

"Oh, no. Dinner will be easy."

"How so?"

"Mr. Klaue is taking you all out to eat tonight. I get a little break. In fact, I am going to watch a little tv now and kick up my feet. Thank you for offering help. It was a kind gesture."

Erik nodded and Leona's eyes regarded him with interest.

"Would you like to watch tv with me?"

He hoped he didn't sound too eager when he nodded his head with enthusiasm.

"Well then, come along," she said.

Erik followed her to the apartment under the house. It was small, quaint, and very neat. The type of neat Erik appreciated. Attached to the entrance of the apartment was a shed that contained the washer and dryer for laundry.

Looking around the apartment living room Erik admired all the photos of family Leona had up. Most of the walls were covered with framed pictures. He spotted several with Yani, many of them when she was younger and had hair full of braids with barrettes and big round bubblegum ties on the ends. Most of her pictures had some incarnation of her squinting at the camera, or holding a hand up to block the sun from her eyes.

She was a thin wiry girl in her youth, but Erik could tell by the shape of older female relatives in many pictures that she was predestined to have hips and an ass to make men weep. That was the amusing thing he found about the island folk. The women would be round and luscious and the men would be lean and angular. There were photos of Leona when she was younger, and Erik had to admit that the women in this family were stellar to gaze upon. Sydette's photos were front and center, and she appeared to be the focal point for the more recent photos of family gatherings.

"Sit, sit…"

Leona went into her kitchen and brought out a bowl of grapes and a bowl of potato chips.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you, I'm good right now."

They sat on the couch and watched Jeopardy and then Wheel of Fortune before she turned to world news. He was leaning back on the couch comfortably, stuffing grapes into his mouth and listening to Leona critique the state of affairs in the U.S. But then his jowls, the part of Erik's jaw-line that Tahir said made him look like a pitbull sometimes, grew tight when he saw King T'Chaka being greeted by the Queen of England. And by his side wearing a crisp designer suit was his son, a solemn-faced Prince T'Challa.

"Oh, that young man is handsome. All my nieces think he is so cute."

Erik grunted and Leona chuckled. He felt his blood pressure rise and he shifted his body forward to study their faces. King T'Chaka was all smiles as the press took photos of them inside Buckingham Palace. T'Challa's eyes looked pampered and bored.

Erik clasped his hands together. If he were alone, he would probably cuss up a storm or hit something. But he concentrated on being calm in Leona's presence. He could taste his anger on his tongue, a gelatinous cold thing that dampened his mood.

"I gotta go," he said bolting up from his seat.

"Okay, Mr. Killmonger," Leona said.

Her wary eyes watched him, the shift in the tone of voice and facial expression on him much too sudden.

Erik left a cold trail behind him when he exited the apartment. His feet felt unsteady as he walked the path that led to the cove and Yani's beach. He passed by Jerome sunbathing on a wide stone, the creature's eyes closed tight, it's tail flicking a bit.

Undressing and tossing his clothes on the sand, Erik ran into the warm waters and dived under a lazy wave. When his head broke the surface again, he let out a cry of rage that made the cords on his neck bulge. He punched at the water, raised his head to the serene azure sky and released a hot piercing scream that stripped his throat raw. The soft sand under his feet gave way and he lost his balance, falling backward, his arms flailing as he tried to prevent seawater from flooding his nostrils.

Gasping for air, he let out a few more pained shrieks until tears welled up and fell from his eyes.

If he didn't do something about the Udaku family soon, he knew he would burn up, self-immolate, a rabid spontaneous human combustion that would leave his charred remains still clenching fists and screaming to the sky.

Erik fell forward and a new wave lifted his prone body and carried him toward shallow waters. He rolled over onto his back and let the sea carry him while allowing the sun's rays to kiss his skin. Once a striking sienna, time on the island had enhanced his melanin to a sumptuous chestnut color, and he could feel the UV rays burning and darkening his skin even more.

Closing his eyes, Erik focused on letting the anger and frustration and hurt to rush over and away from him. It wouldn't disappear completely, but he could usher it into a corner for now.

His body rocked by gentle untroubled waves, Erik spread out his arms and floated.

Yani.

His thoughts went to her and how she looked when she swam in these same waters. Calm. Secure. At peace.

A calm came over him.

It started from the crown of his forehead and trickled down to his throat where it melted into his belly, unclenching the muscles there before reaching his toes.

He heard a splash.

Jerking up from his back, his eyes scanned the water. Was she here?

A small sea bird swooped over his head and Erik watched it dive into the water for fish.

He couldn't hide his disappointment. The need to see her clawing at him. Did she regret what she allowed him to do to her? Was she embarrassed? Did he cross the line by masturbating on her? So much of his semen had painted her as if she were a fine art canvass. Did it disgust her? Was it the sight of her breastmilk cascading down her stiff peaks and all over his hand and not in her child's mouth that drove her away? Did he waste sustenance meant for her child's growth and she felt ashamed about that? Regretful?

Her lips.

He wanted them again.

Wanted to hear her sighs of release, hear the sound of her fingers in wet spaces between her legs.

His eyes watched the liquid warmth create tranquility around his body.

He conjured a mirage of Yani, the way she was naked and pure when he caught her alone in the open water. Her legs so smooth and vivid and brown as she fell away from him, thighs wide open and giving him a glimpse of the treasure there.

He felt the familiar rush of blood to his center.

His erection bobbed in the water, the weight of it making his yearning for her worse.

"Fuck!"

He was wound up once more, her not being there agitating him and making his body tight again.

The fingers of his right hand slid down his length and encircled his wide glans. He squeezed then twisted his frenulum, his left hand dropping down to fondle his sack. A barrage of images hit him, all of Yani with his hands on her, moving her into various positions. His breathing became more pronounced and he found himself panting as he stroked himself, the heat of his stiffness making his fingers sweat. Pea-sized beads of pre-cum laced his tip and he swirled it around the head and dragged the natural lubricant down his length. He let his head drop back, his locs covering his eyes, the sun beating down on him as he rutted between his fingers.

He felt his glutes flexing, his heels digging into the sand, his toes spreading as he fisted himself faster.

"Oh shit…this bitch…" he gasped, his eyes only seeing Yani's lips and the back of her neck, the spread of her hips…fuck even watching her ass cheeks move while she wore baggy track pants and sweats with an oversized t-shirt had his toes tucking sand underneath his feet now. He remembered the way her eyes shined when he told her he would make her call him Daddy and then her nipples looked like they were crying through her shirt…just like they did when he had his beard pressed near her face and his breath was in her ear talking about Jerome. She had run away. She had also run away when he first saw her on this beach when he had put on his clothes while watching her with her eyes closed to stay modest around him, when he told her he would check on the iguana to give her privacy…

She ran away. She ran away each time her milk…

Wait.

Was he causing her to do that? Secrete fluid…?

The harsh groan that left his mouth superseded the ejaculation that had his seed shooting out into the ocean. He watched his semen hit the water and float for a bit before sinking and the rest washing away with the bigger waves rolling in. He sunk down to his knees trying to catch his breath while the water rinsed his body. Even with that intense release, he wanted more.

And she wasn't there.

He needed her there. He needed to whisper in her ear. Needed to touch her breasts again. Needed to allow his hands to fall down the small of her back and pull her in closer to him. Needed her big brown eyes to look up into his eyes again.

"Yah get too comfortable, Killmonger."

That's what she told him before he made them titties pump.

Nah. He hadn't even begun to get comfortable with her.

###

It was the last hermit crab race of the day.

Yani spent two three-hour-long tours hiking tourists around and exploring Cas Cay the small deserted island they stood on. She gave the Eco Tour spiel about the tidal pools, volcanic cliffs, and the geological blowhole they observed before doing the crab races. The only thing they had left to do was spend time snorkeling in the coral-fringed mangrove nursery. She stood among the red mangrove trees with fifteen tourists wearing beachwear. Their kayaks were tied together and waiting for the last crab to clear the finish line. She was tired and feeling bloated from wolfing down a bacon sandwich when no one was paying attention to her as they all disembarked from the kayaks.

Checking her waterproof watch, she hustled the group to gather their snorkeling gear.

Back in her water element, Yani led the people to safe places to snorkel and kept watch for people who wandered off. She tread water with her snorkel gear resting on her forehead. One of the tourists, a red-faced man from Belgium who was part of a Princess Cruise line kept lingering near her. Yani could tell he was going underwater near her to look at her ass and chest. She was wearing basic board shorts, but her backside was a bit extra. Her tankini top had her tits smashed together and showing some cleavage, and every time she turned around the man was at arms- length distance, his underwater face aimed toward her. Perhaps if she were taller and her physique stretched out a bit, her ass and breasts wouldn't look so prominent. But she was just a tiny bit above average height and came from a family of short round curvy women. Most of her baby weight had dropped, but her Aunt Leona kept her fed well with the rich foods from Klaue's compound, so she was going to be hefting around extra for a minute.

"Sir, please respect my personal space," she told him when he came up to clear his googles of condensation. Her fingers twirled the cowrie shell choker that hung around her neck.

"Excuse me?" the man said, looking shocked that she said that to him out loud where others could hear.

"You are swimming too close to me."

The man's wife overheard her and came splashing over. Her pasty face blocking the sun from Yani's eyes.

"What's going on?" she said.

"I was telling him not to swim so close to me—"

"I was not swimming close to you. I swam past you—"

"Sir, I won't argue with you. I am simply asking you to—"

"Yani, what's happening?"

Ugh. Patrick, the Eco Tours assistant manager.

"This man has been looking at me underwater and I don't like it."

Patrick, as always, went into tourist damage control, ignoring her issue. His fake plastic smile attempting to smooth the tussled tourist feathers.

"I'm sorry for this," Patrick said to the tourist.

"Why are you sorry? I just asked him to stop—"

"Yani, it's time to start heading back. How about rounding up the others, please? Thank you."

"But this man—"

"Yani, do your job—"

"I am doing my job—"

"I really don't like her attitude or her accusations," the wife said.

"Your man was looking at my ass—"

Patrick gave her a look, his smile a frozen grimace. "I did not!" the man said, his accent thick and flustered once he saw the other tourists gathering around them.

"Yes, you were! My ass and my chest!"

Glancing around, Yani could feel eyes on her. Many sympathetic, but no one spoke up for her. Now she was beginning to feel like the odd man out. She took a deep breath. She needed this job. The hours were flexible and the pay was pretty good by island standards. Where else could she get paid to swim and play in the water? She decided to swallow her pride.

"You were swimming too close, that's all."

She walked away with her snorkeling gear in her hand and placed them in the lead kayak, the one she used to guide them all to the cay. Paddling back, she could hear the husband and wife barking at one another in French. Yani was happy to be rid of them as she collected gear to be sanitized for the next group of tourists.

When she was finished packing away all the gear and cleaning up the kayak launch area, Patrick called her into his office.

"I gave that couple a refund," Patrick said.

He sat behind the cash register and scrolled his cell while talking to her. Yani shrugged. One hundred and sixty dollars taken from the company.

"You used to be an awesome employee—"

"I still am. I get the best surveys, and I get the biggest tips—"

"Yeah…but lately, you've been moody and a little difficult—"

"How? When? Who has complained about me? I'm your best—"

"Not so much anymore—"

"You're a liar—"

"And you're fired. I just received the okay from Heather.'

"Did you tell her what that guy did?"

"I didn't see anything and neither did anyone else. You overreacted."

"Give me my money!"

Yani held out her hand.

"Heather has to cut you your final check—"

"No, you fire me on the spot, you give me my money on the spot—"

"I can't…"

Yani grabbed her phone from her work cubbyhole and dialed.

"Heather, if you fire me then you pay me right now. I swear to God I will bring my cousins back here if you don't tell Patrick to pay me. I'm going to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau too. Or maybe I sue you. One of your customers made me uncomfortable and I only told him to stop…what? Yes, he's right here….do that then."

Yani hung up and the office phone rang. Patrick picked it up.

"Eco Tours…yeah, Heather…yeah…I didn't see anything, she just accused the guy. Okay…alright."

Patrick hung up. The second shift staff were filing in and some watched the expression on Yani's face as she held her hand out.

"Money, now!"

Patrick punched in a code on the register and it opened. He counted out two-hundred dollars in cash. All twenty-dollar bills. He handed it to Yani. She snatched it and stuffed it down her tankini. She stomped out of the office cursing under her breath. Kendall was waiting for her, his old Yamaha V-Star motorcycle spit-shined and propped up by its kickstand. He handed Yani his extra helmet.

"What's wrong with your face?"

"I got fired."

"What? Why?"

"Some dirty old man kept looking at my bumper and my tits. But they said I have a bad attitude. Take me home to my baby before I fight everyone in there."

Her cell rang.

"What Heather? No, it's not right. Patrick doesn't respect me or my work. You know I work hard. I make people return here. Two years Heather…how can you tell him to fire me and you don't have all the facts?"

Yani could see Kendall's face getting stressed listening to her. She patted his arm.

"I'll call you tomorrow, Heather. Yes, I have my money. Okay. Bye."

She thrust her phone into her tankini top right on top of her money.

"Boss Lady?" Kendall said.

"She wants to talk about what happened today. Gave me my job back. Scared I'll sue. All they had to do was believe me the first time and back me up. But them worried about foreign white people being unhappy. Kiss their asses and leave mine hanging."

She sucked her teeth and climbed onto the back of Kendall's bike.

The ride home to Red Hook was congested with cars as people made their way to popular tourist sites. Kendall weaved in and out of lanes and Yani enjoyed the sun warming her back and drying her work clothes. Resting her helmet on Kendall's shoulder as they waited at a slow traffic light, Yani felt herself beginning to get excited for Saturday night.

Eighteen months.

That was how long she had not gone out with friends. The moment she was pregnant, Chez had her locked down at home. When her parents made the decision for her not to stay with them, she still was pressured by Chez to stay indoors when she moved in with Leona. No lunch dates with her girlfriends. Family gatherings with her extended family lasted twenty minutes and then Chez was hustling her away. Even shopping for baby things was frowned upon.

He didn't want her out in public, didn't want her around people who could influence her decision to stay with him or not. When she stood up for herself, he bullied her with verbal abuse. He knew not to lay a hand on her because her family would slice his balls off, but Chez was a master of psychological warfare. Telling her she was fat and ugly and that nobody would want her if she left him. Called her lazy when she wanted to sleep because Sydette was a big baby while she was inside Yani's belly. All of this happened in the later stages of her pregnancy. In the beginning, he was sugary sweet to her, begging her not to abort when she had doubts about having a child with him, promising to be the best father ever.

But when her belly got big, he started in on her. By then it was too late. By then she knew he didn't really want to be a father but her controller. When she became disenchanted with him, the war for her self-esteem began. He wanted to keep her down. Only because he didn't want anyone else to have her when she was so openly done with him.

Chez slept around and then went after a woman that sniffed him out when he first had his record contract.

Ursula.

She was nothing like Yani at all. Ursula's family had a little money, some connections…the right skin tone, the right educational background. Chez may have thought Ursula was a step up for him, but he was most definitely a step down for Ursula by the way her family reacted to him. Their friends used to tease Chez and call him the Dark Gable of the island. Tall and lean, Chez had gorgeous skin that was like midnight silk and a smile that looked like diamonds lived in his mouth. Yani's dream boyfriend. God, she loved him so. Loved him with all the naïve stupidity that young girls had when first love is acute, visceral…painful in its honesty because they have nothing to compare it to. She let him use her body as much as he wanted because that was her man, and her man could have anything he wanted at any time. If he called her late at night and said come over now, she was hopping on that dick quick-quick, even eating his ass if he wanted, which he loved.

To walk into a club or a house party with him was the epitome of being a celebrity in their tiny world. Chez had that "it" factor that made people into stars, and that was the fantasy made false when he became popular. It started with Chez doing a few bars here and there on songs by other up-and-coming artist's mixtapes. Then there was the indie single he put out that had Yani singing the hook for him. She wore revealing clothes for him onstage, simulated fellatio on him at performances…anything to help him succeed. He told her constantly that money was on the way and she could go to school on his dime. They were on their way. When the contract came through and they took their first trip to Florida, Yani's parents fell for the pipedream too. Once they allowed her to take a gap year and saw how good Chez was to her, they loosened their grip on their relationship.

But then Sydette was conceived.

Next came the rumors of the girl with the long loose curls and rich background hanging with Chez's entourage when Yani wasn't around. Rumors of Chez texting the same girl late at night to come jump on his dick. Then the non-rumor of Chez running behind some pregnant girl buying new baby clothes when Yani was laid up with stitches inside her torn and still bleeding vagina as she tried getting Sydette to latch onto her nipple and suck. The non-rumor of some girl driving around the island in Chez's car with a baby girl that looked exactly like Chez, but with hazel eyes and skin the color of the sand Yani stuck her toes in on Klaue's private beach.

Lookie.

"You quiet, Yani," Kendall said, trying to sneak his motorcycle past a hotel delivery truck.

"Just thinking about you performing tomorrow. And me looking cute."

"You know Chez will come."

"I know. I don't care."

"Does Zachary have to come?"

"I'm tired of people asking me that. Chez nuh own me. He can't control who I see. I like Zachary. He is good to me and Sydette. Do you know how hard it is to find and date a man when you have a pickney hanging off your tit? I deserve to have fun with a boyfriend."

"Oh, he's your boyfriend now?"

"Working on it. We are exclusive now. Moving slow and easy. Still dating, not a couple-couple yet, but we agreed to see only each other,"

The words came out and Yani felt the whispery ghost of guilt when she thought of what Erik had done. What she had allowed.

He was dangerous.

Scary.

Persuasive without saying a word.

What if he wanted to do that again and she didn't?

All the men at the compound carried firearms. He could put a gun to her head and force her if he really wanted to. Catch her walking down to the beach alone…

She shook her head, bumping her helmet into Kendall. "Easy back there," he said.

Traffic began to pick up a bit once they passed the docks.

Twyla was standing out on the apartment balcony with Sydette when Kendall pulled his bike in to park.

"Look. It's Mommy!" Twyla said helping Sydette wave down to Yani.

"Hi, Sweet Pea!" Yani called up, and she could see her daughter’s chubby legs kicking at the sound of her voice.

With her daughter in her arms, Yani smothered her with kisses, pleased to know she had the next two days to herself. Monday would be interesting only because the new men would be arriving at the compound, and she was curious to see who would be joining the wild bunch already there.

"She ate already," Twyla said tickling Sydette's barefoot.

"Why you have my baby in only a diaper? People think I can't afford clothes for her."

"Too hot for clothes, huh Sydette? Too hot to be wearing all that extra material," Twyla said. She reached out and touched Yani's hair. "You want me to touch up this color? Your roots are coming out."

"Should I change the color? I saw this platinum shade that would look so good on me."

"You don't want something darker?"

"I look good with light hair. Makes mi skin look like brown sugar. Cuz you know girls, girls dem sugah…"

"…the girls dem need this nigga, yah!" Twyla finished by winding her hips and giggling.

Sydette stared at them both then grabbed for Yani's cowrie shell necklace.

"Zachary keeps calling. You give him some already?" Twyla said.

Yani slapped Twyla's arm.

"We are courting still."

Twyla rolled her eyes

"Twist my locs?"

"No. I just got home. I'm tired. My hands are tired—"

"You want blonde hair again?"

Yani frowned.

"Let me rest for at least an hour."

"I'll give you two. I have to wash my hair first."

Entering the apartment, Yani was met by another cousin, Dex, who sat in front of the TV eating cereal.

"Yani!" Dex shouted.

"You still giving Twyla and Kendall a ride tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'm bringing Boogie and Donald too. Cee Cee is bringing Dulan and Sonya."

Yani looked at Kendall.

"See? You thought your family was going to be too busy and all your favorite cousins are coming."

Kendall beamed and poured himself a bowl of cereal.

"Auntie coming home today?" Dex asked.

"Tomorrow night," she said.

Dex clapped his hands.

"Just make sure you clean up this place before she gets here."

A two-bedroom apartment and a sleeper-couch housed a baby and five adults. Everyone worked and everyone contributed to the household. Leona worked six days a week on the compound when Klaue was around, and less than two times a week when he was gone. Her nieces and nephews covered her rent for the place in exchange for staying there while she was away.

Dex was happy because he would be able to sleep in a bed for one more night before returning to the couch with Kendall.

"What you cook?" Yani said sitting on the couch rocking Sydette in her arms.

"Got take-out," Dex said stretching his arm and reaching for Sydette's foot.

"Beef Patties?"

"Burger King."

Yani rolled her eyes.

"You don't have to eat it."

"I won't," she said popping Dex in his head.

"Stop that," Dex said.

Sydette reached out and grabbed Dex's hair, her fingers slipping through his matted curls.

"Ow…girl…"

He unhooked Sydette's fingers from his scalp.

Kendall dropped down on the couch next to Yani.

"She's bringing Zachary," Kendall said.

Dex glanced over at Kendall and then Yani.

"Yani…" Dex whined.

"I don't care what you say," she said lifting Sydette up and checking her diaper.

"This is why we end up having drama—"

"Won't be no drama—"

"You know how Chez is—"

"And? He laid up with that hoe and another baby. Fuck I care? I'm there to support my family. Zachary is taking me out to dinner and then we are coming to the club. This is a special night for we and I won't listen to that man's name being uttered in my ear."

Her tone of voice made it final.

"Who is watching Sydette?" Kendall asked.

"Anika."

Yani's youngest sister agreed to watch her baby mainly so she could have her little boyfriend hang out with her at Leona's apartment. Ever since Yani's baby mishap, her younger siblings had been under a strict regime. No boys or men allowed in the house. So they had to sneak. Yani wasn't worried about her sixteen-year-old sister though, Leona would be there to keep an eye on them. Anika was still at the holding hands stage with boys, and the young man she was smitten with was a cornball who loved Anika because she loved anime like Yani, and played RPG games like a pro. Love at first online game.

Yani rubbed Sydette's back. Her daughter was resting against her neck and falling asleep. She could smell the fresh clean smell of baby shampoo in her child's hair, and the deep comfortable breathing she had when she was in her mommy's arms.

Yani reached into her tankini and pulled out her cell and her money. She shoved the cash in Dex's face.

"Take this for the house phone and light bill and put the rest on Auntie's cell phone bill," she said.

"I already covered all that, you keep this for school and Sydette," Dex said folding the bills back up and putting it into her hand.

"You sure?"

"I was able to get extra hours at the Job, so I'm good. They didn't hire too many seasonal workers this quarter."

Yani leaned over and kissed her cousin on the forehead. Every little bit helped. She could apply some of that cash for taking her TEAS test, the first step in trying to get into nursing school on the island. The aptitude test would assess if she had the skills to qualify as a nurse, and the administrative fee was eighty dollars. The rest of the money she would use to get Sydette diapers and some new baby bottles since she broke two of them transferring them home the other day. Any leftover money was going towards some new sneakers. The rubber on the back of her Nike kicks were peeling and crazy glue wasn't helping to save them anymore.

"Can you watch her while I shower?"

Dex took the sleeping baby in his arms and Yani walked into her bedroom and grabbed clean clothes and underwear.

Sleep.

She wanted a long uninterrupted sleep and a plate of beef patties with melted cheese. And some strawberry ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.

Cool water woke up her skin, and she quickly cleaned her body. Rinsing off, her fingers trailed over her areolas, gently skimmed the tips of her breasts as Erik's face came to mind. All day he had been flitting in and out of her thoughts. How would she face him on Monday? It would be difficult to pretend that nothing happened because she couldn't trust her own body around him anymore. She had kissed him, so how could she serve breakfast or lunch, or even clean the pool properly if she would have to look at his lips and not think about them being on hers? Why didn't she say no when he asked to touch her? It would've been so easy to walk away and just deal with her breasts, leave the compound and just ignore him for the rest of his stay.

Her Aunt would catch on too because Leona caught every subtle look, word, or action in that place. She had to. These were bad men who pretended not to be bad, who often spoke in code around them. Auntie would be very cautious and her eyes would be wide open. Watching for anything to be off or strange. Yani knew with absolute certainty that they were really bad men when Leona had her help clean Klaue's personal house and she showed Yani a secret escape passage that Klaue revealed to her in case anything ever happened on the compound. Leona was never to reveal this passageway to anyone who came there. Everyone except for Yani.

The compound was usually pleasant and nothing terrible had ever happened. Only the occasional hurricane threats brought any worry. When Klaue was gone overseas or back in his home country, the compound was paradise and the energy felt lighter to work in. She would swim in the pool, sunbathe, or read books on the patio and pretend to be a spoiled rich girl.

She found it greedy of rich white people like Klaue to own so much property and hardly ever be there to use it when her own family would kill for the space to live on their own island. Three houses sat empty eighty percent of the time simply because some foreigner had money to waste. How nice it would be to let her daughter crawl around on the private beach, or float on a little raft with a view of her own sea? Maybe one day run around through beautiful plants and trees with Jerome? Lay on a big soft bed like the one Erik had in his room all the time.

Her fingers played with her nipples until they were stiff. She turned off the water and stood naked, feeling the pleasure of her own touches. Her fingers on her right hand dropped down to separate the folds of her prominent inner labia. She manipulated the slippery skin, inserting the middle and ring finger of her right hand inside her vagina. She proceeded to thrust in and out as she pictured Erik's hand working his erection, the slit on his tip dripping…

Yani grabbed the detachable shower nozzle and switched the mode to pulse and placed it over her throbbing clit. She had to hurry, wasting water was a no-no. Gently sliding the hood of her clit back and letting the water splash on her perfect pink spot almost brought her to delicious completion until a knock on the bathroom door interrupted her. "You almost done in there?"

Kendall's voice broke the serenity of her self-pleasuring. She removed her fingers and rinsed off completely before shutting off the water. She didn't bother to dry off, just threw on clean panties and a sky-blue cotton bathrobe. She ran a roller of deodorant under her armpits then opened the bathroom door.

"All yours," she said.

She went into the bedroom she shared with Twyla to find some shorts and a top.

"Yani!"

Dex called out to her from the living room.

"You need something?" she asked, thinking Sydette was fretting because she wanted her.

Dex was standing at the open front door.

"Where's Sydette?" she asked.

Dex nodded his head outside the apartment entrance.

Yani padded over to find Chez standing outside holding Sydette in his arms. She reached for her baby. Chez took a step back from her hands.

"She's fine. I'm her father, calm yourself," Chez said.

Her daughter's eyes stared at Chez like he was a stranger with bad energy. Her little face vacillated between pre-tears and fretting. Soft little grunts of air escaped her lips.

Hair twisted into tiny peppercorn sized locs around his scalp, and a new gold-chained necklace hanging from his neck, Chez stared at her bathrobe, his eyes focusing on her breasts.

"You with someone?"

"I just got out of the shower. What do you want?" her voice was rushed, her eyes focused on Sydette. He made her nervous holding her.

He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. She took it and counted it. Fifty dollars.

"That's it?" she asked. He owed her way more than that.

"You know I have other responsibilities—"

"You are two months behind, Chez—"

"When I get more, I'll give you more. You are working and making enough money—"

"I work three fucking jobs! If you gave me what we needed, what we agreed on, then I could quit one of them and be with our baby more since you don't want to spend time with her—"

"I'm here aren't I? I'm holding her now, right?"

"It would help me if you could keep her sometimes—"

A car horn honked.

Chez looked behind him.

"Stop honking the goddamn horn!"

His raised voice startled Sydette and she started crying, her arms reaching for Yani.

"Stop crying," Chez said, his arm pulling Sydette away from Yani.

"Give me my baby," Yani said. She tried to keep her face calm. The car horn honked again.

"Stop pressing on the fucking horn, Ursula!"

The yell from Chez's voice made Sydette wail. Yani grabbed her child and yanked her away from Chez.

"You brought your bitch to my house?"

"Watch your tongue—"

Yani stepped around Chez to get a good look at Ursula sitting in the passenger seat of Chez's car. The apartment was on the second floor of a two-story building.

"You can afford to pay what? Five hundred dollars a month for that car, but you come bring me fifty dollars? How do I stretch this out for a month for your baby?"

Yani cradled Sydette's head against her neck. Calm gurgles came from her daughter's mouth now that she was out of Chez's arms.

"I'm doing the best I can, Yani."

"So am I. But I'm tired. Our baby deserves better. I deserve better. It's not right how you treat us—"

"Chez, let's go!"

Ursula stepped out from the passenger side of the silver sporty Honda. She held Chez's other daughter in her arms.

"Your woman is calling you," Yani said.

"When I get some more cash I'll bring it to you."

Yani reached out and pulled on the new gold necklace draped on his neck.

"How much this set you back, huh? Give it to me so I can pawn it."

Chez pulled her hand off of him. He leaned over and kissed Sydette on the cheek. He pulled on Yani's robe at the waist and kissed her on her cheek too.

"I have some money coming in soon. I'll be able to pay back what I owe you and then some. Okay?"

Yani stepped back from him.

"Chez!" Ursula's voice was incessant, "we need to go!"

"Stop yelling in front of my home!" Yani shrieked down to her.

Chez herded her back into the doorway of the apartment.

"Why did you bring her with you? You always try to hurt me, rub my nose in your trash," she said.

"She's not your issue. I'm here for the baby. I'll see you soon."

He rubbed the top of Sydette's head and bounded down the walkway to hit the stairs.

Ursula had a smug look on her face as Chez came back to her.

"Get your butt in the car," Chez said slamming his driver's side door shut.

When they were gone, Yani stood on the balcony trying to keep it together.

"Yani?"

Twyla came out to be with her.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. He just…" She held up the money.

"Fuck them," Twyla said.

"What did I ever see in him?"

"Don't drag yourself. You were young and in love. Just like many people. He fucked it up by being a jerk. That's not your fault."

Yani held Sydette close to her heart.

No matter what Twyla said, Yani would always feel like loving him was her fault. Her fault for choosing him willingly.

And now her baby had to suffer.

###

Zachary had gone to the bathroom when the man with the dark flashy eyes approached Yani by one of the big speakers near the make-shift stage inside of Rush. He wasn't white, or Latin as his swarthy skin and wavy dark hair suggested. He was dressed like he had money…plenty of it. He was a little tipsy, but in a cute flirty way.

"You are a Goddess and I want to marry you," he said. His voice had an accent like he was from one of those places that always had America fighting. Iran? Saudi Arabia? Iraq?

"I'm sorry, but I am taken," she said. She gave him a smile when his face looked hurt by the response.

"If I told you I needed you tonight, would you come with me?"

The man's eyes were shiny and the mirth in his voice made Yani laugh instead of flicking him aside like a mosquito.

"If you ever change your mind, Goddess, I am here for you."

He gave an exaggerated bow and Yani walked past him to greet her cousins who had all arrived in a pack, shifting the energy in the room with Galibar essence. Their family was well-known, and it was easy to move in the space knowing family was around looking out for her.

Hands on her waist spun her around and Zachary pulled her in for a hug. He was happy and excited to be out with her, constantly pulling her out onto the center of the dance floor so people could see them. It was nice to be with a man who was proud to be with her. Their dinner together had been perfect, the food excellent, and when they arrived at the club Yani felt more like herself again. She wasn't a mommy, or someone's girlfriend, or some worker bee running from job to job…she was just Yani and hanging out with grown-ups, responsible for no one but herself.

She dressed like a star. New make-up she saved up for. Gold choker on her throat. A long yellow dress she ordered online from the States that had cute green and red shapes on it that made her skin look bronzed by the sun. She did feel like a Goddess as her dress flowed around her hips with a small slit at the bottom that gave a tiny peek of her left leg. She even let her cleavage show just straight feeling herself. She allowed herself to drink liquor knowing she had milk bottled at home for Sydette for the next day. She was going to savor this night for a long time.

She extended hugs to her relatives and friends who hadn't seen her out in months. Compliments flowed and Zachary constantly hyped her up. When other men stared at her, Zachary's chest puffed out with pride. She liked how he was secure with thirsty eyes on her.

Rush was filled with gorgeous women, and Yani was happy that she could feel pretty again, not schlepping around in her usual sneakers and sweatpants. Her gold lace-up sandals gave her toes a little trouble at first, but now she was used to them as she moved with Zachary.

Wall to wall patrons crammed into the space and she was happy that Kendall would have an enthusiastic crowd to hear him live.

"Let me have my cousin," Dex said grabbing Yani's hand and taking her over to Monice and Twyla. Zachary nodded and watched her be ushered near the side of the bar.

"Kendall is having a panic attack," Dex said.

"What?" she said.

"He's over by the D.J. booth. I tried talking him down, but he's super nervous and says he can't remember his setlist, and one of his singers isn't coming…he's in a panic. I told Dex to find you," Twyla said.

"Jesus Christ," she said.

Yani waved Zachary over.

"Kendall is losing it, I have to talk to him," she said.

"Want me to go with you?" Zachary asked.

"Yeah, he needs some cheerleaders right now," Yani said.

She held Zachary's hand as she pushed past dancers, the deep bass in the club vibrating through her body. She could see her poor sweet cousin Kendall leaned up against the D.J. booth, his eyes closed and his hands balled into fists. Yani knew the butterflies of pre-performance jitters, but she learned early on to use her nerves to give a good performance. But Kendall was new to this, accustomed to backing other people on stage, not being the center of attention on his own. She hoped he could get through this because a ton of people paid money to come see a show, and he was one of the headliners. His first time being that. It would be a disaster if he couldn't get it together.

"Oh! It's my Goddess again! Here is that vision I was telling you about-!"

That guy again.

Oh shit.

He wasn't alone.

Yani halted in her tracks when she saw Erik sitting next to the Arab man at the bar. Locs cornrowed on his head, eyes relaxed from the drink in his hand, Erik's gaze took her in like he didn't recognize her. Something flickered in his eyes and he leaned forward, his free hand reaching out like he was going to touch her until he saw Zachary next to her.

"Killmonger," she heard herself say.

"The fuck yuh doin' here?!"

Chez's voice almost made her legs buckle when he stalked over to her and grabbed her elbow.

A nightmare made real.

Yani stood still, her eyes darting between three men who were aware of one another and sizing one another up.

"Hey, what is this?" the dark-haired Arab man with the reverent voice said.

Yani grimaced when she felt Chez's fingers digging into her skin. He was pulling her away from Zachary, his hot eyes raking up and down her body taking in how she was dressed.

Yani released her hand from Zachary's and placed it on Chez's arm to try and pry him off. He wouldn't let go, his grip tightening. It hurt.

Erik stood up.

"Take your hand off her."

Erik's voice sounded deadly like it could kill someone in seconds with the terse tone.

His friend stood up with him, feeding into the warning energy Erik gave off. At that moment, Yani knew the Arab man was one of Klaue's men too. Chez had no clue who was confronting him.

"Mind yours, breh. This my baby's mother—"

"—don't give a fuck who she is to you. Back off her—"

Yani's eyes went to Zachary and he stood there not sure what to do, confused as to who Erik was and why he was intruding.

"I need to talk to Kendall!" she shouted shoving Chez away from her. She stomped away from them all. She could hear Erik and Chez going back and forth and when she glanced behind her, she saw her cousin Dex and Dulan pulling Chez away from Erik who was smiling at Chez, his thick neck moving side to side like he was ready to body her ex.

Zachary was right behind her, his face stressed.

"You know he was here?" Zachary asked.

"Why should I care?"

"Who was that other guy? He acted like he knows you—"

"Kendall!"

Yani touched her cousin's neck and his eyes flew open.

"Yani. I feel like I want to throw up," he whispered.

"Calm yourself. It's okay. This is normal—"

"No, it don't feel normal."

"Tell me your songs," she said.

"Bumper…um…Phase Two…Crash Land…She Sez…"

"Good, you know the order and everything. What happened to your back-up?"

"Gloria is here, but Asha is a no show. I go on in ten minutes and Gloria doesn't want to go up without Asha—"

"That's some bullshit," Twyla said easing up next to Kendall and handing him a cup of ice water. She made him drink and rubbed his back. They both could see Kendall calming down.

"Do you have music with their voices already recorded?" Yani asked.

"No."

"Where is Gloria?" Yani asked.

Kendall shrugged.

Yani glanced around the club looking for Gloria. Zachary stood near her, his face looking flustered.

"What?"

"You're not worried about Chez starting something again?" Zachary asked.

"My cousins will snatch him up if he tries something again. Don't worry about him—"

"You still didn't answer me about that other guy—"

"What other guy?" Yani said still scanning the crowd for Kendall's singer.

"The big dude—"

"Zachary, I'm trying to help Kendall, okay?"

"What is Gloria wearing?" he asked.

"She has on one of my shirts, red with me on my motorcycle. She has a big afro…" said Kendall.

"I'll go look," Zachary said.

"Thank you, Zachary," Yani said. She squeezed his arm and watched him leave.

She could see the patrons positioning themselves closer to the stage.

"Hey, Kendall, we doing alright?"

The club D.J., Junior leaned over from his booth, worry on his face.

"He's fine!" Yani said making her voice sound cheerful.

"What?! Yani!" Junior said stepping down from his spot in the booth.

He gave Yani a big hug.

"You look good!" he said.

"Here for my cousin," she said looking over at Kendall, encouraging him to perk up more.

"Are your girls ready Kendall? I have hot mics ready for them. We go on in five—"

"Found her!" Zachary said ushering Gloria back over. The girl looked petrified.

"Kendall, I can't go up by myself—"

"You have to, he needs you to start the song to introduce him!" Twyla interjected, the peevishness in her voice hard to ignore.

"It won't sound right with just me—"

"Make it sound right, you're not gonna fuck up my cousin's show little girl," Twyla said getting into Gloria's face.

"Twyla, that's not helping her—" Yani said.

"Show goes on now, you doing this or not Kendall?"

Junior was all business.

Kendall's eyes sought out Yani.

"Gloria, please, this is where you have to be professional. The show goes on even if part of your crew isn't here. You can't let Kendall down," Yani said.

"Gloria, please," Kendall said.

"Kendall, it's time," Junior said climbing back into the booth. He held out a mic for Kendall and Gloria.

Gloria reached for the mic and Yani felt a sigh of relief flow through her.

"Are you ready for some great music?" Junior called out on his mic as he punched keys on his computer cueing up Kendall's tracks. A roar of "Yes!" came back from the crowd.

Yani held her hands clasped together in front of her silently praying that all things would work in Kendall's favor. Gloria had the mic in her hand, but she looked like she was ready to run.

Junior dropped Kendall's opening track and the room absolutely jumped with the massive bassline. Yani felt her cheeks pull tight as she smiled hard. The track was slapping so good. Gloria stepped forward and started humming, her lackluster energy killing the vibe already.

"Ohmigod, this bitch!" Twyla shouted.

"Give her a chance," Yani said as she bit into her lip, her own nerves scattered when she saw Gloria tanking the performance before it even began.

There were titters from the crowd and many of the people who had been swinging when the beat first dropped now stood still trying to figure out how it all went so wrong in fifteen seconds.

"Give me that goddamn mic you stupid girl!" Twyla said racing onto the platform that was used for the stage.

"Yani, c'mon," Twyla said shoving Gloria aside, "give me back again," Twyla said to Junior who synced the music back to the beginning.

Yani shook her head at Twyla.

"Yani…" Kendall whispered.

Kendall's eyes were wild-looking, his nerves frayed, and at that moment, Yani knew she had to do whatever it took to salvage this for him.

She stepped onto the stage and grabbed a mic that Junior held out for her. The music rattled the walls once more and the club lights lit up and heated her face. She quickly focused on what she needed to do. This was Kendall's first track…"Bumper"…an ode to asses. She heard Kendall rap to this track for weeks, had to hear the hook being sung every damn day she came home from work while he was in the shower.

Twyla wound her hips to the dancehall-tinged track and when her eyes met Yani's, she nodded her head and they both faced the audience and gave Kendall a proper introduction.

###

Tahir had been mumbling about some woman he saw when he went to the restroom, but Erik found himself trying to avoid Isis, the girl he slept with at the Marriott.

She spotted him at the bar and Erik made sure to stay cordial, but she was cramping his style by hanging off of him the way women did after he messed with them. She looked amazing in her peek-a-boo skintight white dress and red heels, but he was not feeling her at all. Even when he introduced her to Tahir who was extremely good-looking, Isis stuck to him like cops on a niggas ass. He was already pulling women that could help him get through his stay on the island, but this bird was clucking too much.

He went dancing with a random girl who walked past him and Isis still didn't get the hint. Finally, he was just straight up with her saying he was just trying to have fun with his friend and wasn't interested in hooking up that night. She was buzzing from drinking rum and his words didn't seem to halt her advances until he physically left her at one side of the main bar and moved with Tahir on the other side.

Tahir was in island heaven, his eyes taking in all the sights of bright lights, heavy Soca and Hip Hop beats, and the thickolicious women roaming the club, so many of them single.

"I swear to you she must be in the employ of a jinn, her eyes…may Allah bless me with a wife with eyes like that…. Oh! It's my Goddess again! Here is that vision I was telling you about-!"

Tahir shoved Erik's shoulder and he turned to see Yani walking toward them. When she stopped in front of them Erik thought fate was fucking with him because she had just crossed his mind again, him wondering if she was out on the floor dancing or on her way to the club. His eyes couldn't release her from their hold as he saw what she looked like outside of cleaning and cooking for the compound. It was her, totally her, but she was just so…

He couldn't even figure out the words before he was reaching out to touch her, wanting to already pull her into his arms and keep her next to him. But then he saw her fingers entwined with a man standing behind her.

He heard her say his name, not the one he wanted her to call him, but the one he hid behind, and she still made the harshness of it sound so sweet to his ears. He longed to pull on the straps of her dress, slip one down from her shoulder and place his lips on the skin there. The gold choker on her neck made him want to place his hand there and squeeze, push her against a wall and pull up the gauzy dress she wore that made her curves too visible for his comfort. He knew what was under that dress and he wanted to see it again. See it on his bed, her legs stretched open wall to wall, her big eyes looking up at him when he entered her heat…

Before he could even gather himself and act chill, (as if the sight of her with some other man didn't bother him when it clearly did agitate him), another dude was yelling at Yani, man-handling her as if he owned her.

Erik saw Yani grimace and that was it.

When she broke away from her baby's father, he wanted to follow her, but the other guy she was with trailed behind her and the baby daddy started to act buck with Erik.

"You ain't gon' do shit, bruh," Erik told him, even laughing at dude when he started flexing for the crowd, but not really trying to go there with Erik. Two other men came over and pulled the man away, calling him "Chez" and Erik made a mental note to check the guy out. He was so quick to come down on Yani, Erik got the feeling the dude was trouble and could retaliate.

"You know her?" Tahir finally said when the commotion calmed down.

"She works at the compound for Klaue."

Tahir's eyes perked up, but when he glanced at Erik, he got the hint that she was off-limits.

He sat back and sipped on his rum again, his eyes scanning for Yani and spotting her near the D.J. booth talking to some people. A huge banger thumped through the speakers and Erik head-bobbed with everyone else as they all watched a cute woman climb onstage. She started humming and then her voice faded under the music.

Did she forget the words or something?

Another woman came on stage and snatched the mic from the first girl and told the D.J. to start the song over. That slamming intro whopped everyone over the head again, and this time he watched Yani climb onstage and join the new girl and they sang a hook that made the crowd go buck wild.

Shit. They sounded good, Better than good.

"Is that my Goddess again?" Tahir squeaked, bouncing on his feet.

Erik stood up and rocked along with the club patrons. The smokey deeper alto of the other singer cradled Yani's honey voice, the harmonies flowing to a young dude who bounced on stage, his energy high and infectious as he spit bars that elevated the music even more. Kendall. Erik yanked out his cell and began recording for Leona.

"Fucking incredible," Tahir said nodding his head and raising his hand when Kendall told the crowd to.

Yani and the other woman rocked behind him as Kendall extolled the virtues of why he loved a woman's ass. Yani and the woman bounced their ass cheeks to the beat, turning sideways so the audience could see what they had, and Erik felt a groan clamp down in his throat watching Yani stick her tongue out playfully and shake her cheeks low, her left hand clutching the hem of her dress as she showed everyone the outline of high-grade shelf booty.

The first song ended and Kendall introduced Yani and his other cousin Twyla. Both women bowed to the audience and stood behind Kendall as he went into another song that was just as good.

The kid was good, a little shaky on his transitions, but he held the audience pretty well. The second song didn't have a need for Twyla or Yani, so they just danced together being excellent hype women for their cousin who had pretty decent bars and clever delivery. The last two songs they joined back in and when Kendall was done with his set, he received hearty applause and whistles from the crowd.

"Now we have to pay our respects people…," the D. J. said, "Yani…Yani…come back up here love."

Yani took to the stage again as Kendall stood next to her beaming.

"Yani sang on Tattler's mixtape two years ago, and was on Big C's song 'Recognize Me', yuh remember? She's our Black mermaid!"

Murmurs from the crowd let him know they knew those tracks.

"Yani, take us back for a minute girl…please…"

The D. J. dropped a tune and the crowd shouted. Yani covered her face as Kendall laughed and patted her back. It was a hybrid of dancehall and a tiny bit of dub.

"I came here to watch my cousin perform and chill with my family Junior!" she said.

"For old times sake, Yani. We've missed you, love. Sincerely. You a real one."

The D.J.'s words triggered something in her and Yani covered her eyes. She burst out crying. Erik stepped forward wanting to touch her face and wipe those tears away, but Kendall stepped up and rubbed her back, whispering something in her ear.

"We love you, Yani!"

A woman's shout from the crowd, made Yani lift her head up.

Erik put his cell phone down.

"You got this, Yani!" Erik yelled at her. Yani's face gazed back toward his direction and the audience agreed with him by clapping for her.

"Turn me up," she said to the D.J. and he made her mic a little louder, "Can I freestyle? I don't want to sing that old version. Mi nuh want anything that reminds me of my ex."

The crowd laughed.

"Do what you feel, Yani," the D.J. said.

The music brought her back and Erik knew she couldn't see him, not with those bright ass lights on her face, but she stayed gazing out in his direction.

"Yuh my likkle water boy,

Wind me up like I'm yuh brand new toy

Yuh bring new kinds of joy

And me wahn some more

Wull on pon me

Wull on pon me

Wull on pon me and take away all me stress…"

Her flow had him moving his hips along with everyone else.

"Did you know she could do that?" Tahir asked, his fingers popping and his feet bouncing side to side.

"Her Aunt said she sang," Erik said, mesmerized.

"Me wahn to peel yuh like some fresh ripe fruit

Lick you down like my Auntie's soup

Got me pattin' on my kitty cat

Me suspect

You wahn grip my neck

Lookie,

I'll let you whisper me the rest

I promise this no test

Stop makin me vex

Come wull pon me…."

Fuck.

She was singing to him.

Erik felt the hairs on his neck raise. Her voice was way too intimate and the lyrics too specific to be about anyone else other than him. Her tone was seductive and she hadn't changed the direction of her stance facing his way.

"Lookie

Won't you come over love

So I can show you love

Promise I got enough to give you all you need

Lookie

Some lovers search to find a love like mine

A love as good as mine

I'll never waste your time

Such a vibe…"

When she finished, she giggled and let the mic hit the side of her hip. Erik felt like everyone could see that the smile on his face was for her and only her. Kendall hugged her and the club patrons clapped.

"Give it up for Yani, the Black Mermaid, yeah!"

"She needs to be home takin' care of her pickney!"

Chez's voice rang out loud and rude.

Yani's head turned in his direction, and Erik felt ready to stomp the nigga out right in front of her.

"What kinda mother hang out in a club with tits out like that? Shame!"

"Fuck you!" Yani yelled out to him and the crowd laughed.

Erik spotted Chez leaning on the other side of the bar.

"Out here being a hoe. You no hot girl no more—"

The crowd heckled Chez back.

"It's ok, it's ok, him try to shame me. It not gon' work. You want this smoke, Chez? I give it to you. Junior, give me Chez's beat. That old Big C joint he couldn't make pop."

Yani stepped to the edge of the stage.

"Run that beat back fuh mi," she said, "I see you. I got your hoe right here."

Chez threw his hands up egging her on.

"What you got for me, huh, bitch? What? You got nothin'!"

Erik felt his jaw clench.

"And dis a wah mi get fi understand Seh yuh cya keep yuh dick inna yuh pants Yuh think seh fucking every gyal mek yuh feel more like a man Yuh supposed to be my right hand, my go to And nobody nuh fi come to me about you Cause when yuh down, I lift you up I keep you moving when yuh stuck Yuh ma nigga you supposed to be my goku Or my best friend, who yuh texting Everyday yuh seh dem gyal yah upsetting But I'm patiently waiting Because anuh my time dem wasting Anuh my time dem wasting

Yuh tired dickhole

Pack up and leave if yuh nuh want mi Cause mi honestly rather be lonely Yuh nav nuh time fi me, yuh all fi yuh self, I see Pack up and leave if yuh nuh want mi Cause mi honestly rather be lonely Yuh nav nuh time fi we

No time fi Sydette or mi…"

Erik shoved his fist up to his mouth along with everyone else in the club as heads turned in Chez's direction.

"See, that's what happens when you come for me," Yani said.

She handed the mic back to Junior and stepped away from the stage with Kendall's arm thrown around her neck. The laughter was ferocious and it cut Chez deep, especially when she mentioned Sydette at the end.

Erik strolled over to the man to keep an eye on him, but Chez turned around and stormed out of the club with his boys.

He watched Yani get pats on the back and hugs as she made her way over to the bar. When her eyes caught him again, he thought he would have a chance to talk to her, but her boyfriend entwined his fingers with hers and took her out to dance.

Erik grabbed the nearest woman's hand and pulled her out on the floor with him.

Anything to be near Yani...

###

Part 5  [Part 6]

Authors Note: Lyrics that Yani spits is stuff I made up mixed with actual Jada Kingdom songs, “Wull On” and “Love Situations”.

Tag List:

@fonville-designs​ @soufcakmistress  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone @allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky @raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514  @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow

[jaydenshanahan75-blog]

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[childofaura]

Rating the anime I’ve watched in 2019: A really short list

Kinda just felt like doing this, 2019 has been a REALLY interesting year in anime. I didn’t watch a whole lot of stuff, but I wanted to kind of go over what I did watch. So I’ll talk about what I thought and rate it 1-10.

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND: THEY’RE RATED SOLELY ON MY OPINIONS, IF I DON’T FEEL STRONGLY ABOUT ONE PLEASE DON’T GET MAD. ALSO ALL OF THESE WERE WATCHED IN SUBS. ALSO SPOILERS AHOY.

1. Dororo.

The OP was AWESOME. The animation in the first half of the series was really smooth, but there was a slightly noticeable dip in animation later on. Not huge, but still there. Actors were FANTASTIC, and the little girl who plays Dororo is so cute! Characters were incredibly well written and varied, Hyakkimaru still struggled despite his honed reflexes and training, and Tahomaru was so morally divisive, it was great. Somber tones really bring out the nasty forbidden underside of the Shogunate’s “lasting peace”. Though the ending with Tahomaru, Hyakkimaru’s mother, and his father figure all dying in the fire was rather... disappointing, Hyakkimaru forgiving his father and Dororo deciding what to do with the large sum of money left behind, to use it for the greater good, wraps everything up.

Dororo’s a solid 8/10.

2. Rising of the Shield Hero

I ended up checking this one out after hearing all the controversy it was stirring up, because I wanted to see what it was. Like always, the “controversy” was a big tepid pile of nothing, and I got to experience an isekai that operates under a different mood with different dynamics. Animation quality is consistent and good, and there’s a LOT of female characters that are well rounded and strong, like Raphtalia, Melty, the Filolial Queen, Glass, etc. Scenery is beautiful, and Naofumi’s growth into trusting again is nice to watch. Also the soundtrack is so enjoyable, Kansas is my favorite song. Cons, though few, are still there: the pacing can be a little funky at times (Mainly what comes to mind is that AWFUL filler episode where they fight the Church from the molten pit, and don’t move AT ALL. Worst episode ever), the physical growth of some of the characters like Filo is jarring (In two days she grows horse sized, after they had that montage of taking care of her) even with an explanation. The last thing that rubs me the wrong way (It’s not really a con in general, just a con for me) is Raphtalia’s crush on Naofumi. It’s simply that they spend the first few episodes building their relationship as a father/daughter, then they try to shift to romance after establishing that first familial relationship.

Rising of the Shield Hero’s an 8/10.

3. The Promised Neverland

AAAAAAAH HOT DAMN I LOVED THIS ONE. It was completely out of my range of what I normally watched at the beginning of 2019, BUT I LOVED IT SO MUCH. The animation is eerie, especially the facial expressions and how smoothly they move. The children are so darling and thinking about how they might have possibly died in S1 broke my heart, as well as me hoping they didn’t, lol. Every episode leaves off on this wonderfully tantalizing cliffhanger, so binging the episodes are a must. Characters like Mama and Sister Krone are terrifying, though in the latter’s case I love how clever she was, and was sad when she died. Her Japanese actress definitely blew it out of the water and had a lot of fun with the character. I’d say the only (not really a con, but) thing that weirds me out is how close the characters’ mouths are to their faces, but that’s a stylistic thing and I won’t fault them for that. The children are strong and resilient and I can’t wait for the next season.

The Promised Neverland’s a 9/10.

4. Demon Slayer

I got into this one late, and I hate myself for getting into it late. But nonetheless, I’m so glad I watched it and I can say with confidence it’s up there with FullMetal Alchemist: Brotherhood’s level of excellence. Tanjiro is such a kind-hearted boy who constantly puts himself through physical torture for his only remaining family; Nezuko’s “hypnotism” to see humans as family feels more like placebo because she just genuinely has compassion for people, especially when she looks at Ms Tamayo and Yushiro as family when they’re also demons. All the characters are deeply involved in this story with either known or hidden (Zenitsu) strengths that allow them to conquer their struggles. The style is unique and the character designs are pretty, and HOO BOY THE FIGHTING ANIMATIONS, THE STYLIZED TECHNIQUES. MWAH! MUCH LOVE! I love the soundtrack so much, it almost reminds me of the Pokemon movies’ orchestra pieces. The story is well paced, and no issues with filler. Showing how even demons deserve compassion is a beautifully unexpected twist in this show.

Demon Slayer’s a 10/10

5. To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts

I do love this series dearly, and while the good outweighs the “meh”, I still have to address the issues. BUT FIRST, THE GOOD THINGS: Characters in this show are incredibly in-depth, even the soldiers. The designs of the Incarnates are fantastic, terrifying and imposing. Schaal is a strong young girl who sets off with just a suitcase and a rifle and, after meeting Hank, decides to get inside his mindset to see why he’s doing what he does, and why he had to kill her father. Hank is a man in constant suffering who has to see his best friends losing themselves to insanity, knowing that they’re not the people they used to be but questioning whether he’s really doing the right thing regardless. All the soldiers have their own focal point in the episodes they show up in, showing their unique traits and attitudes, and how it links to the monsters they are now. The concept of Incarnate soldiers is parallel to veterans with PTSD. While Liza’s a bit of a ridiculous fan-service character, there’s really no complaints because the fan-service in this show is balanced; they show Hank unnecessarily shirtless a LOT (Though honestly I’d be fine if they let him wear his shirts more). But the cons. There are a decent amount of them. Animation is clunky and lower budget. Pacing is not easy to keep up with, as the split between Hank’s mission and the main conflict with Cain interrupt each other quite jarringly. Schaal’s father seemingly rises as a zombie again to serve no other purpose other than Schaal’s character growth, as we could assume that a LOT of the other monsters like Keynes, with the fire of justice, would also come back to life. Liza doesn’t really seem to do much or contribute much as a character; she came close when she volunteered to take up the Incarnate Extermination Squad’s equipment by saying she knew how it worked but she literally. Just. Held up a shield for the commander (forgot his name, Cain’s little bro) to jump off of. She needs to do more. Love the series and I love watching it, but it’s a mixed bag.

To the Abandoned Sacred Beast’s a 7/10.

6. Fire Force.

Well... this one is definitely gonna be tough to deal with, because I only got maybe 8 or 9 episodes in before I had to break away. So I’ll break it down simply.

Pros: Animation is SOLID. ABSOLUTE. FLUID AND DYNAMIC. It’s literally Midoriya vs Todoroki, but in EVERY EPISODE. Some characters are fascinating and enjoyable like Shinra, Maki, Joker, and Hibana. The concept of Infernals, people who just burst into flames without warning, are a solid idea to run on. The OP is a banger. The soundtrack fits the mood perfectly.

Cons, and a lot of them: There isn’t a whole lot going on in terms of variety, it’s mainly fighting Infernals in the city. It picks up eventually, but slowly. While some characters were enjoyable, others were either flat or downright unbearable to deal with; flat characters like Obi (He’s not a bad character, but he feels... generic) and Iris (Also not bad, she’s strong in what she’s had to deal with and being kind regardless, but it’s just standard quiet girl.). Unbearable character is really just two so far: The lieutenant, who gets borderline abusive (both mentally and physically) with Maki (Like I get it dude, you had trauma with fire and Infernals but you don’t need to be an abusive shit), and Tamaki, ESPECIALLY Tamaki. She’s rude, screechy, treated Shinra like utter shit when they first meet, and respects almost no one outside of her district for no real reason. And she also falls into the next con: The one-sided fan-service. Now I will defend the right to fan-service with everything I believe in, but I’m still allowed to have my opinion on it, and the way it goes in Fire Force is just... so awful. Fan-service jarringly interrupts what are supposed to be heavy emotional or important scenes (Iris sitting on the ground with nothing but a towel, Iris getting her clothes burned off by Hibana, Tamaki sticking her butt out after getting hurt by her district partner, Tamaki’s clothes being burned up and being against the wall with that weird-ass kitty pose with her wrists, etc.), Tamaki’s “lucky lechery” is supposed to be funny somehow but it makes literally no sense, and oh cool she ends up sexually harassing the dudes with it, too. I could understand this level of fan-service if it was like a harem anime or a cheese-cake-ish anime or whatever, but it’s- it’s a shounen. There’s nothing that really shows you there’s gonna be this weird level of fan-service.

I respect everyone who loves Fire Force, but it’s just not my cup of tea. That’s all.

Fire Force’s a 6.5/10.

7. Vinland Saga

THIS ANIME. THIS ANIME IS PERFECT IN EVERY WAY AND YOU WILL NEVER CHANGE MY MIND. The first OP PERFECTLY encapsulates just how much of a hellish live Thorfinn is about to live. The animation (Being from the same company as Attack on Titan and Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress) is SUPERB where the characters move with weight and purpose. Seriously, have you seen how the characters jump forward? With their legs and arms forward? It’s a little detail but it’s so great. Characters are multi-faceted and it gives me strong feelings about how awful they are but how clever or strong or brilliant they are. The pacing of the anime is perfect; something plot-important happens in each episode, the characters travel long distances to give you a feel of movement, and there’s not a single episode that could really be considered “filler”. Dynamics of these characters work in fascinating ways at times. The actors absolutely own their roles; Askeladd’s actor nails that perfect nonchalance where he seems surprised but you know he’s truly not, Thorfinn’s older actor knows how to scream his lungs out in anger. The main star, though? Thorkell, hands down. That guy is absolutely having fun with his character.

Vinland Saga’s a solid 10/10.

[0poole]

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

Good God.

I finally managed to watch the final episodes of the show, and even though it wasn’t the most pitch-perfect ending ever (and even though I skipped like all of the final season), I still gotta dish out my thoughts on the whole thing. It’s not my tippy-top most favorite show, but it’s definitely the one with the most lasting impact on me. I mean, considering it created one of the biggest fandoms of all time, I’m pretty sure I’m far from alone there.

Obviously have to start from the beginning. I think I got into MLP around the 2nd season, maybe in the middle of it but definitely before the 3rd. I don’t exactly remember, since it was so long ago, but the first two seasons might hold some of the most saccharine, mindless nostalgia of all. Every single episode holds some spot in my memory, even the filler episodes with the cheesy notes to Celestia at the end of them. Honestly those were adorable, even if they were the classic kid’s show trope of “Let’s explain the moral to the kids who don’t have half a brain” but it’s actually pretty charming. That’s nostalgia talking, by the way. Obviously. If I found a new show today that did that, I’d roll my eyes a little, and I probably did when I was first watching the show. 

But, it’s an understatement that this was my life. Of course, I was at that time of my life where one thing could very easily become my entire world, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t matter to me. The pretty solid, unchanging artstyle gave me an opening to try and draw it, and for years I exclusively drew ponies, and even when I had a human character, I’d only be able to draw them in pony form, so I ended up meshing their stories into fanfiction on how they could become ponies. My “Icon” character at the time, Satyr, was probably the first original character I drew, and I can still remember the exact drawing I made of him. Obviously a pony, he was sort of larger and masculine, conveniently blinking eye so I didn’t have to deal with that, basic hair/tail styles, and for some reason a jagged zig-zag pattern going laterally across his body, like those “How would a horse wear pants?” memes. I thought it was really good, so I kept going, and here I am ages later still drawing stuff. I couldn’t even bare to fully ditch the shitty characters I made (and I’m going to explain them without context because I just feel like it): Satyr got split into his immortal and prince-ly side; Diane, a manic serial killer, shrunk down but kept her impossibly anxious personality; Gaseous is basically all the same, except he doesn’t meet the rest of the crew in what parts of his story I know about; Sistenagon (here we go with the weird names, they don’t mean anything) still kept his (her? Don’t actually remember which I called it) wasp-y nature, except in the form of an insect-based fairy tribe leader; Stelerachyt, who I drew as a Diamond Dog, is still a big, fluffy, dog, but turned into a more regal and kingly type of person; and Myriad Alloy (the only one with an actual pony name) got a complete makeover, and actually became my favorite end result after all is said and done.

Like, I love ranting about these guys. They were basically my own Mane Six. And yes, Satyr TOTALLY dated Twilight. Why wouldn’t he? Main character a Main character. Plus, he was supposed to be me, and I totally wanted to hit that. I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I mean, I guess a big part of why I actually went down that path was because of the large fanbase. I didn’t begin with the beginning of the show, but I guess I came in with the first large wave, so all of the stuff I made got just enough attention to make me think people wanted to see what I was making. If I started out with OCs, no one would’ve cared, and I very well could’ve stopped.

Even apart from that, this show definitely kick started my downward spiral into femininity. I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory. Everyone “knew” MLP as being something super shallow, only to be enjoyed by shallow little girls, then they pumped out Friendship is Magic and everyone else loved it, so I gave it a shot, and I loved it too. Obviously every fandom has the people who openly, irrationally hate them, but the whole thing was welcoming enough to keep it solidified in my mind, and bish bash bosh, it kept going and will probably keep going into eternity. It’s funny, even then I drew Satyr with the more feminine pony design (not entirely because drawing the male pony type was harder), so I was setting myself up for the future.

I guess this kind of gives me a window to talk about My Life as a Teenage Robot, because for as long as I could remember before actually watching the show, I seriously despised any instance of XJ9 I could find. If an image of her popped up on screen, I would close it faster than if it was porn found while around my parents. I don’t know why she was so harshly ingrained in my mind. You could argue I just hated “girly” stuff before I realized I actually loved it, and didn’t want to face my emotions, but I wasn’t exaggerating at all about that porn thing. I actually couldn’t look at her for more than a second. But, one day I decided to cave in and see what was up, and soon enough she became one of my favorite cartoon characters of all time.

Back to ponies, some of the content produced by the fandom also had some extremely fond memories in my mind. I think I still have some songs by The Living Tombstone and WoodenToaster on my MP3 player (partially because it’s just good stuff) and for some reason playing on MLP-themed TF2 servers was actually really fun too. Some notable fandom people reacting to recent episodes was a spectacle I always looked forward to, and I still am subscribed to Saberspark and Ratchet on Youtube after all this time, probably as well as various other people who are still there but haven’t posted anything since the settling of the fandom. I just remembered, Hotdiggetydemon probably qualifies for all that too, since his .Mov series was the talk of the whole fandom. That, and Friendship is Witchcraft. I had to re-look up the name of that one though, but I still loved it.

I guess I should play favorites, huh? Favorites was the one game everyone in the fandom played. 

Favorite episode: Can’t not be a tie between the 2-parters of Season 2. Discord is a riot, and Chrysalis is actually one of my favorite villain designs of all time. I’m a sucker for both shapeshifters and bugs, so you can’t expect me to not like her. Glad she rode the villain boat till the very end, although reformed Discord is definitely fine too. Plus, the rest of the Changelings turned anyway.

Favorite song: You expect me to not tie things up here? The Flim Flam brother’s Super Cider Squeezy 6000 is great, as are the brothers themselves, and I also love This Day Aria, since it’s the focal point where people realized this show seriously wasn’t just colorful, cute ponies. The Art of the Dress is also pretty catchy. 

Actually, just remembered. Under Our Spell might be it. Took me a while to remember the EQG stuff, but that song is seriously good, and unironically better than the generic dribble that somehow magically beat it.

Favorite background pony(ies): Vinyl and Octavia are a pretty cute duo, and with the killer duet in the Slice of Life episode, ya gotta love em. Funny thing, though: There’s this background pony that looks almost identical to my current self-insert pony OC, with purple hair and a grey coat, with a seemingly writing-based cutie mark and green eyes. He’s even a unicorn too. It wasn’t intentional, I swear.

Favorite CMC: Sweetie Belle is too much. Her little squeaks are too pure. I can’t take it. Applebloom has nice colors, though.

Favorite Princess: If you don’t say Luna you’re a cop

Favorite non-pony species: Obviously Changelings, but after their reformation the honors actually switch to the Kirins, just because of how cool they look. The Yaks are pretty fun too. Speaking of…

Favorite nu-Mane Six (or are they called the School Six? Whatever, you know what I mean): All Yona. And yes, I had to look up her name was, who cares? She’s adorable.

Favorite of the Pillars of Equestria: I honestly love that they made Starswirl an actual character in the show. For the longest time, people just assumed he would stay in the form of Twilight’s Nightmare Night costume forever, but then they actually made him real! That’s really cool.

Favorite Equestria Girls design: Once again, Sweetie Belle steals both this spot and my heart.

And, of course… Favorite of the Mane Six:

Honestly, it just depends on the mood I’m in. Not even remotely lying there.

Fluttershy would’ve been my answer way back then, since I was into the shy types. There’s definitely something still there. You can’t deny that she’s the most cuddly of them all.

Twilight might’ve been a tie for the top around then too, since I was also the too-smart-for-humanity type. That leads into you liking the “smart” ones. Plus, in the latter half of the series, she did feel like she was put one step above the rest of the cast. That kinda makes her feel slightly off, I guess. Still like her, though.

Pinkie Pie’s one of those that I can imagine liking, but if I ever actually had to deal with that much energy I might actually melt. And, not in that I’m-totally-in-love kind of melting. Literal, actual melting. 

Rarity, in terms of concept, is easily my favorite type of character for the show. On the surface, she’s the generic fashionista type that every girl’s show has, but instead of her being someone who “just makes clothes” she’s actually seriously hard working and goes through all the regular motions you’d expect from an artist. Turning such a cliche on its head and giving it a much more realistic image is perfect for this show. Also, she’s purple. I like purple.

Not much really needs to be said about Applejack. She really seems like the most logical one of the group, even at the very beginning. That’s great to have when everyone else is acting like spoiled/sheltered brats (at least, when she’s not acting that way either).

But, I really gotta be honest… I’m never really in the mood for Rainbow Dash. She’s like the opposite of AJ, where she’s always some degree of arrogant, and even though watching her achieve her dreams is nice, her big head gets a little annoying for side gags. Also, if you showed me a plain picture of the Mane Six, I would’ve told you she was the main character instead of Twilight, just because she stands out so much more. I mean, the show isn’t called “Twilight Sparkle: Friendship is Magic,” but still.

If you really want a straight answer, I’m in a Rarity mood right now, so I’ll go with that. It’s probably the safest bet, because, like I said, I do love purple. Not just purple, but purple AND white put together. One of my favorite color combinations. Just add a little gold, and you’re, well, you know...

But… Yeah. All good things had to come to an end. I feel like its time came. Plus, they ended the show with the little story book thing they did in the very first episode, so as far as I’m concerned the series is complete. It did its job, anyway.

[maisiecockerill-blog]

10 Questions To Ask At celebration.

10 Different Ways To Do event.

Do you have a celebration turning up and you need something to earn it extra special this year? As many people understand, event favors differ depending on the celebration or motif that has been chosen. The birthday celebration party is an affair and a possibility for socialization and also growth. Seafaring, or non-seafaring event guests can all value fun nautical parlor game throughout the nautical motif celebration. Enhancing the table and also setting, dining room and lounging area for your party sets an enjoyable mood as well as makes it stick out from a daily gathering. You could acquire pre filled celebration boxes which will certainly make your life extremely easy and also stress cost-free. It takes a certain individual to fall for it. Everybody below appears to do whatever- acing a test, mosting likely to an internship, working with a not-for-profit task, then spending the whole evening at a celebration or hearing songs downtown, only to wake up early the following morning to run in the park or use a sporting activities team. The initial party was for 45 of my associates and also the complying with week I organized one more celebration for 45 of my closest buddies. As lots of people understand, a senior prom is a very unique event and also consequently having interactive Senior prom parlor game and also printable tasks for the guests will make it very unique. For appetisers, the ordinary visitor has the tendency to eat 5 pieces each hr for the very first two hrs of an event and also 3 per hr for each hr longer that the celebration lasts. You don't have to clean up the celebration prep or worry about the number of people you could fit in your home. Then you can go online as well as order all of your wedding grown-up party products, if you live in a location where there are no grown-up shops. AREA 2 - College graduation Party Supplies: This list of generally required products will help you stay organized. Golden Party: Celebrate a Golden Oldies party by utilizing Golden Oldies party products as well as designs. The carefree bar culture of the city incorporated with New Year event provides you the ideal atmosphere to welcome the New Year in a unforgettable as well as distinct means. When you mention the event to people, consist of a note on the invitation and also obtain the word out. Finding the best celebration clown for your child's birthday party could really be challenging because of your standards. Making a pig of on junk food, dancing and also drinking alcohol is one way of appreciating a bachelorette party yet a different idea might be a relaxing trip to the day spa.

Understanding The Background Of celebration.

Each card was printed with an attempt we had thought out beforehand and would certainly work in all grown-up party situations. The basis of your choices on the event, either it's a casual of expensive easy enjoyable recipes enable you to attend your party and have as much enjoyable as your guests. I delight in hanging around with household and few close friends, yet I have actually never been the large celebration sort of girl. Because girls appear to have wonderful links with horses, ladies will instantly love the Steed Power celebration prefers that you pass out. This event is a special chance for the fiancée to invest top quality time with her closest pals as well as loved ones. When you've supplied the deals with, venue, favors as well as songs, just relax as well as let the celebration occur. party supplies portland (her comment is here) ... Gail Leino offers suggestions on fun ideas for fashion and enjoyable, video games, activities as well as celebrations. We decorated the event table with a Film Reel focal point, a big Director's clapboard, and Motion picture Night buttermints. Special birthday event prefers consist of a pair of woman bug magnets that are an ideal favor for a garden party or a barbecue birthday celebration party. You might use them on the mugs, on bowls to identify the food, as cupcake toppers, make name tags for each and every kid (which will definitely assist you out):-RRB-, put them on the celebration favor bags, placed them on the invites, anywhere you desire! You have been connected to your dream for the lengthiest time currently, placing the home company concepts to activity where you have to work extra hrs from the net to generate some quantity of money. The food as well as the drinks need to match with the style as well as the motif of it. Prior to identifying dinner celebration recipes, you should take into consideration the guests of the party and their taste. June likewise sees the Calcio in Outfit kept in the Piazza di Santa Croce following a ceremony and celebration. Besides, it is always good to have the nice fresh green scent of fresh cut yard throughout an outdoors event. After that you just print out as many sheets as there are women participating in the event, as well as their activities will certainly keep them active for hours.

5 Reasons that You Must Purchase event.

Roof Living Soirée: It's 5:00 someplace, and also if you're in Barcelona, you ought to be locating on your own at one of its lots of rooftop balcony bars throughout the city. Likely the commonest method is making certain everybody obtains something, yet saving 2 genuinely great wedding shower celebration favors as video game rewards.

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: Chicago Celebrates 50th Anniversary of Its Picasso Sculpture, a Gift Many Residents Didn’t Want

The restaging of the 1967 Chicago Picasso dedication (photo by Jake Silby/Hyperallergic)

CHICAGO — A baboon with wings, a bull-moose hybrid, an Egyptian revival sculpture, and even a vampire.

Fifty years after its public unveiling, the untitled Picasso sculpture that sits in the center of Daley Plaza continues to elicit a wide range of interpretations from mystified passersby. The 50-foot-tall steel figure certainly caused a ruckus when it was first dedicated on August 15, 1967: Many people were simply baffled by the abstract sculpture; others showed up with signs that deemed it a “colossal booboo” and “an insult to Chicago’s greatness.” One urged, “Let’s give it back now!!!” Not exactly an ideal welcome for what the modernist master intended as a gift to the people of Chicago.

Protestors at the 1967 dedication of the Picasso sculpture, photographed by Robert W. Krueger (photo courtesy Chicago Public Library – Northside Neighborhood History Collection)

No protestors turned up yesterday afternoon (though that would have made for a fun spectacle), when the city restaged the sculpture’s dedication to celebrate the 50th anniversary of an oddity that’s gradually grown into a beloved Chicago icon. The aforementioned interpretations were among those I received from individuals in the crowd, which numbered in the hundreds — just a fraction of the approximately 50,000 people who packed the streets in 1967.

Among them was Bonnie Diamond, who was a little girl when her parents took her to what was then known as Civic Center to witness Mayor Daley pull away the giant, blue veil with a grand flourish. She had appreciated the sculpture upon first sight.

“It was very exciting,” Diamond told Hyperallergic. “It was just wow. We didn’t really know what it was and had never seen anything like it. Now I’m not sure what I think it is, but I always thought it was a horse with angel wings.”

Unveiling of the Picasso in 1967 (photo courtesy Barbara Bogosian, used with permission)

Much of the anticipation back then stemmed from photographs of the statue and its maquette that the press circulated widely as part of the city’s publicity campaign. Everyone, it seemed, had an opinion on the Picasso — a hulking, modernist vision that had no apparent connection to Chicago or its history, unlike other commemorative statues that dotted the city streets. The choice must have seemed particularly curious considering the Spaniard had never set foot in the Windy City.

The restaging of the 1967 Chicago Picasso dedication (photo by Jake Silby Hyperallergic)

Readers of the Chicago Tribune wrote in days before the dedication, with a number calling it a “monstrosity” and some decrying the city’s showing of the work of a Communist. Others were enthusiastic and even proud, although many fixated on what exactly the stern-faced creature was supposed to be.

“The Picasso piece depicts a baboon, without a doubt,” a skeptical Helen Mckee wrote. “Picasso has perpetrated a hoax.” One Mrs. Joseph Savler suggested that the piece represented a phoenix, “the bird which like Chicago was consumed by fire and arose from its ashes in renewed beauty and freshness.” And area person P.K. Thompson was adamant about their guess: a giant sea horse.

Still others believed it represented Picasso’s pet Afghan hound, Kabul, an argument that photojournalist David Douglas Duncan laid out in a Chicago Tribune Magazine article. It was published months after the dedication and illustrated with an elegant portrait of the long-nosed canine.

Today, most people believe that Picasso meant for the figure — with its knob-shaped face, eyes and nostrils like donuts, core of radiating lines, and gradually widening stem — to represent an abstracted woman. What is certain, however, is that his sculpture paved the way for modern art to play a significant role in Chicago’s city planning, which had until then largely focused on functional public structures.

The 1967 dedication of the Picasso sculpture (photo courtesy City of Chicago’s Department of Cultural Affairs)

The 1967 dedication of the Picasso sculpture (photo courtesy City of Chicago’s Department of Cultural Affairs)

“The Picasso really changed the way public art began to appear within the city,” public historian Paul Durica told Hyperallergic. “What’s interesting is that, over the past 50 years, it’s more or less become part of the city’s built environment — people don’t really look at it as a work of art anymore. This anniversary is an opportunity to once again try to approach it as a work of art and think about its meaning and value to the city.”

Durica conceived of the dedication restaging, which also celebrated artists and cultural organizations in Chicago. The 1967 program had featured performances, readings, and speeches, and for yesterday’s event, locals stepped in to represent them with largely new material. Participants included the Chicago Children’s Choir, artist Avery R. Young, and Gwendolyn Brooks’s daughter, who recited the poem her mother had read 50 years ago.

The only thing missing was the drama of the original event: the Picasso was not kept under any veil but left exposed and untouched as celebrations unfolded around it. Instead, artist Edra Soto led a symbolic unveiling, asking people to cover their eyes with pink fans she’d designed and then remove them after a few seconds. It was a creative alternative to what may have proved a complicated endeavor, but I imagine it would have been quite striking to see Rahm Emanuel (who was present) whip away a cloth and watch it slowly billow in the wind as the gigantic Picasso was revealed, glinting in the sun and gazing fixedly forward.

The restaging of the 1967 Chicago Picasso dedication (photo by Jake Silby/Hyperallergic)

The restaging of the 1967 Chicago Picasso dedication (photo by Jake Silby/Hyperallergic)

The 162-ton work — which has turned from bright orange to dark gray, thanks to years of weathering — exists because of Chicago architect William E. Hartmann, who wanted to commission an artist to create a monumental work to serve as the focal point of the plaza. And he wanted none other than Picasso — Hartmann considered him “the greatest master alive.” He visited the artist at home in Mougins to propose the idea, which the city’s Public Building Commission had approved. To persuade Picasso, as well as familiarize him with Chicago culture, Hartmann brought along gifts including a White Sox uniform, a Native American war bonnet, a Chicago fire department helmet, and photographs of Ernest Hemingway and Carl Sandburg.

Picasso not only agreed to the task but also refused payment for it; he wanted his work to be a gift to the people of Chicago. He also gave the 42-inch-tall maquette to the Art Institute, where it remains on view today. His design was realized by the United States Steel Corporation at a cost of $300,000, which was covered by three different charitable foundations.

The theme of yesterday’s events was in keeping with the spirit of the artist’s generosity: “Everybody’s Picasso.” But that idea was briefly contested when the sculpture became the subject of a copyright controversy. In 1969, the Letter Edged in Black Press filed suit against the Public Building Commission, which claimed it had copyright on the sculpture. The art publisher had commissioned Claes Oldenburg to reproduce the Picasso and was fighting licensing fees, arguing that the sculpture was in the public domain, as the artist had given it to the people. The commission maintained that the deed of gift was a copyright grant that Picasso had given to the department. The next year, a judge ruled in the publisher’s favor.

The restaging of the 1967 Chicago Picasso dedication (photo by Jake Silby/Hyperallergic)

Today, even if you haven’t seen the Picasso in person, you’ve likely seen it on screen, thanks to cameos in films like The Blues Brothers and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. It’s become a marker of the city’s center, an unmistakable and familiar home base.

When the late Chicago Tribune arts editor Edward Barry wrote about the sculpture’s origin story days before its unveiling, he concluded with a grand premonition.

“For decades, possibly for generations, Chicagoans will dispute about this huge semi-abstract head of a woman — or is it something else? — which will be like a brooding presence in the center of the city,” Barry wrote. “It will be derided, defended, laughed at, and — who knows? — maybe eventually loved.”

From the array of people sitting on the Picasso’s granite pedestal and enjoying lunch to the children who slide down its sloping base every day, you can see that he turned out to be exactly right.

The restaging of the 1967 Chicago Picasso dedication (photo by Jake Silby/Hyperallergic)

The restaging of the 1967 Chicago Picasso dedication (photo by Jake Silby/Hyperallergic)

Pablo Picasso, “Maquette for Richard J. Daley Center Sculpture” (1964), on view at the Art Institute of Chicago (photo by the author for Hyperallergic)

The 1967 dedication of the Picasso sculpture (photo courtesy City of Chicago’s Department of Cultural Affairs)

The 1967 dedication of the Picasso sculpture, photographed by Robert W. Krueger (photo courtesy Chicago Public Library – Northside Neighborhood History Collection)

The 1967 dedication of the Picasso sculpture (photo courtesy City of Chicago’s Department of Cultural Affairs)

The 1967 dedication of the Picasso sculpture, photographed by Robert W. Krueger (photo courtesy Chicago Public Library – Northside Neighborhood History Collection)

The 1967 dedication of the Picasso sculpture (photo courtesy City of Chicago’s Department of Cultural Affairs)

The 1967 dedication of the Picasso sculpture (photo courtesy City of Chicago’s Department of Cultural Affairs)

The post Chicago Celebrates 50th Anniversary of Its Picasso Sculpture, a Gift Many Residents Didn’t Want appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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