#canter chicago

[tackless]

Yesterday marked the end of the thoroughbred racing season at Hawthorne Race Course, which means my CANTER visits are likely done until next season. It's been so cool to be involved with CANTER Chicago, and to reflect on how many horses I've been able to meet and help list! This season, I provided photos for 8 of the horses that went through CANTER Chicago, and 6 of those horses have landed homes off the track. That being said, CANTER Chicago still has 6 listings looking for their new career!

From top to bottom, left to right:

Lucky Pal - found his new career! Be Lucky - looking for his next adventure! Larry's Lunchbox - found his new career! Red Hornet - found his new career! Z U Soon - looking for his next adventure! Featured Power - found her new career! Ironman Richie - found his new career! Immortal Cowgirl - found her new career!

[medusapelagia]

07 - The family ranch

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Moonlight ), @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: fam/ranch), and @aug-kissed (prompt: Indirect kiss) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: sad ending Words: 1704

When Steve failed his senior year and his father told him he'd have to work all summer he thought he meant working at his father's law firm in Chicago, not at the ranch in the middle of nowhere, where even the latest iPhone couldn't reach any signal unless he stand really still at the very end of the stalls, and work as a wrangler.

Sweeping away beads of sweat with the back of his hand, Steve wonders once more why his grandfather bought a huge ranch in Wyoming when he never stepped out of his huge manor on the east coast and he definitely had no love for horses whatsoever.

But in the end, he must admit that he’s happy his father sent him there to punish him because he discovered more about himself than he thought.

Even if working under the supervision of a young man just a couple of years older than him was annoying, Steve quickly found out that he loves spending time out in nature and that the horses are lovely and intelligent creatures.

Not that Edward ‘Eddie’ Munson, the Ranch Manager's nephew, ever made him feel welcomed.

He spent weeks making fun of Steve’s “town boy” attitude and his hairspray, but now that they have worked together every single day for almost two months, Steve must admit that he really didn’t know anything about the job and that Eddie thought him to love the stupid ranch and all his animals. 

When Steve got off the plane and found a rattling van waiting form him, he wasn’t expecting to learn so much and to have fun taking care of the horses, exactly as he wasn't expecting to find the Eddie Munson fun, interesting, and hot.

Saddling the horse, Steve chuckles at the idea of his Dad being the major cause of his bisexual awakening. He can’t deny that he’s attracted by the dark-haired boy whose eyes have never seen the ocean or never played golf but that have delivered more calves than Steve can even imagine.

For weeks they have danced one around the other, brushing their fingers while brushing the horses or exchanging stares that meant more than they dare to say, but none has had the courage to do something, and before they know it, their time together is almost finished.

Steve sighs, remembering to himself that those are his last couple of days at the ranch and that he will be back in Hawkins soon, attempting senior year for the second time.

The idea of getting back makes him sad, but he always knew the time to go back home would have come, so he tightens the saddle and guides the horse out of the stable. Eddie is waiting for him, already riding his huge black mare.

These are Steve's last couple of days on the ranch, and Mr. Munson, Eddie's uncle, has given them permission to camp outside for the night.

Eddie hasn't stopped talking since the moment they got on their horses and left the ranch, cantering slowly toward a nice clearing near a lake where Eddie and Wayne usually take the cow to water and refresh. But tonight there aren't cows to take care of and the lake it's just for them.

"Wayne used to bring customers here, but the lake is deep and there was an accident, a kid escaped from his parents' supervision and almost drowned, so he refuses to take anyone else." Eddie explains to Steve when he asks why such a beautiful place isn’t on the list of their natural attractions, "But you can swim, right?"

"I was the swim team co-captain," Steve replies proudly.

"Does this mean you can swim? Or it's just a title, my king?"

"Fuck you, Eddie!" Steve complains, rolling his eyes. 

Since Eddie caught a glimpse of Steve's Twitter account and noticed that his nickname was KingSteve he hasn't stopped teasing him for it.

"At least buy me dinner before, Harrington," Eddie replies, sticking out his tongue while they keep riding. 

The ranch is enormous, and Steve's grandfather owns acres and acres of land that now is used to attract rich tourists who want to live an experience in contact with nature. Steve would have never imagined how many people are willing to pay to take care of the horses, maintain the stables, cut firewood, and fix fences, the very same thing Eddie is paid for and Steve is not.

But tonight is their night, they have packed all the supplies they'll need to camp, and as soon as Eddie finds a place he deemable for them they'll set up camp for the night.

When the air starts to get fresher, Steve understands that they are getting close to the lake, and he's proven right when he finally sees a shiny blue surface waiting for them. Both horses instinctively move toward the lake, but Eddie is quick to grab their bristle and stop them.

"No, girls," Eddie says in a stern tone, "not going into the water until we get off, ok?"

The horses seem to understand and they wait quietly for their riders to get off and guide them toward the fresh water.

"Don't let Daisy get in too deep, she might slip on the rocks." Eddie reminds Steve while patting the neck of his horse.

Once the horses are refreshed, they tie them to a big tree, making sure they have enough rope to walk around and graze, then they start setting camp. Under Eddie's supervision, it doesn't take long. Steve chuckles, thinking how much he hated Eddie when he first met him and how much he has grown on him in the last couple of months.

"So you told me you can swim, right?" Eddie asks with a mischievous smile, and in a moment Steve finds himself soaked with his clothes still on.

"You're lucky I didn't have my phone on me, Munson!" Steve yells when he reemerges.

Eddie quickly strips off his clothes and joins him in the water, "Need help stripping?"

"Fuck you!"

"Maybe later." Eddie winks while Steve gets back on shore to take off his soaked clothes and gets back into the lake in his blue boxers.

They play in the water like kids, pushing each other underwater or challenging each other to swim faster and farther. 

There, in the middle of nowhere, Steve feels happier than he ever felt before.

"Can't believe I'm leaving in a couple of days."

"You could always come back to visit. You're fucking rich, aren't you? I’m sure you have a private jet somewhere."

Steve sighs, resting on the shore, enjoying the sun's warmth, "It was supposed to be a punishment. Don't think Dad will be eager to send me back here and work on the ranch. He wants a son who'll follow his steps."

"And what do you want, Steve?" Eddie asks, and the question has too many hidden meanings that Steve isn't sure he's ready to answer to, so he slowly gets up, wears his damp jeans, and tells Eddie that he is going to fetch some wood for the fire.

When he comes Steve helps Eddie with the fire and looks at his long slim fingers stirring some beans in a little pan. The bread is warm and soft when they eat, staring at the moonlight whose reflection gently lightens the lake's waters.

"Have you ever smoked, King Steve?" 

"Did you forget I attended one of the most prestigious private high schools in the Country? Of course, I did." Steve chuckles.

"I’m sure those rich boys you hang out with have no idea how to have fun. Such a pity… thank god I'm here to help you with your education."

"Are you a teacher now?"

"Didn't I teach you how to take care of the horses and clean their stables? Didn't I teach you how to make a fire? Didn't I-"

"Ok, ok. Got it. So, Professor Munson, what are you going to teach me today?"

"How to shotgun."

Steve shivers in fear and pleasure. On one side he's more than eager to kiss Eddie but on the other side, he doesn't want to kiss a boy for the first time ever and leave the next day.

"So, what do you say?"

Steve bites his lips while Eddie grabs a joint from his bag and quickly lightens it, the red cherry shines bright red when Eddie breathes in some smoke and exhales it slowly.

"Just one time…"

"If that's what you want. Open your mouth, sweetheart." Eddie smirks, breathing in some smoke and getting closer, just a few inches from Steve's pulp lips.

Eddie opens his mouth and lets the smoke escape in white swirls.

"Take it in... good boy. More?"

Steve nods, already feeling the effect of the smoke.

Eddie's lips drag in the smoke and release it so close to Steve's lips that's almost like kissing.

But they are not.

Because tomorrow Steve will leave and he won't see him again.

“I’m leaving soon,” Steve whispers, his eyes red and his pupils huge.

“I know.”

“I won’t come back.”

“I know that too.” Eddie nods, finishing the joint while Steve stares at the moonlight, high as a kite.

Steve would like to push Eddie on the old blanket and kiss him stupid. Taste him and explore his body like he did so many times with the girls of the school. But Eddie is something different, something important. He deserves more.

“I wish things were different.” Steve mutters, drawing mindless patterns on Eddie’s naked arm, “I wish I could stay.”

“You could. If you would.” Eddie replies without looking at him, “The place is practically yours. None will kick you out.”

But Steve has a girlfriend waiting for him at home. He has a future already decided and it doesn’t include hot cowboys or a ranch.

Eddie doesn’t insist. They sit in front of the fire until the fire dies and they find refuge in their sleeping bags.

If during the night their bodies find each other it’s only to warm themselves.

The next day, when Steve leaves for the airport, it isn’t Eddie who drives him to the airport, but Wayne and neither of them says a single word during the journey.

[thebiggestlies]

 It hardly seemed feasible how this was the third of Jay’s birthdays that they would spend together. The past two years had gone by in an instant.

Of course, happiness always makes time go faster. Even with those stretches of weeks apart, several states of separation between them, they were merely frustrations instantly forgotten the moment Eric and Jayden were reunited.

A birthday was also a reminder that neither of them were getting any younger. The kind of nudge which made Eric give more serious of a look at property prices in New York, wince, and then at whether he’d be better to sell or rent his Chicago homestead.

Conversations that would wait for another day. This one was all about Jay. About celebrating her, for everything that she was. The only major shift this year was Eric’s certainty he could indulge a smidge with one of her gifts. A small collection of jewelry, cantered around a scarab bracelet braided strong enough to withstand even the most robust of Jayden’s tendencies.

He certainly intended to test it out later, after the dinners and drinks with all of Jay’s extended family and friends. Eric didn’t want to wish the day away. Each moment was to be savored, including when it would be just the two of them, along, with perhaps only the bracelet left as a barrier between them.

@morgansmornings

[plungermusic]

Fuck me, Fuck The Algorithm is fucking fucked-up …

… in a fucking good way, obviously. 

Eclectic is an over used term in music reviews: usually merely indicating that a country/Americana act strays occasionally into CSNY territory, or a blues outfit manage at least once to leaven their relentless Chicago dumpa-dumpa-dumpa-dumpa with a splash of NOLA syncopation … 

And there’s nothing wrong with either of those, but in the eight tracks of manic, maniacal, genre-mangling mash-ups of Fuck The Algorithm Mango Thomas redefines ‘eclectic’ as an ADHD chameleon on acid in a kaleidoscope during a laser-strobe light-show.

The opening track alone, Pjunkle, careens between a blizzard of high-speed machine drum, guitar and incandescently furious growled vox, and Eastern-spiced spacey electronica interlaced with lithe bass lines, burbling synths and melodic harmonised guitar… via a metal-cum-drum’n’bass maelstrom. Oh yeah, plus a closing ferocious excoriation of the www.

Musically that pretty much sets the template (of there being no template) for what comes after: a relentlessly-grinding deconstructed boogie opens Punk Bitch, breaking down to a beats-and-Parklife-on-steroids rap interspersed with fusiony guitar squiggles and playfully venomous music-hall psychedelia; a surprisingly stonery laid-back late-night jazz passage from electric piano and loose-limbed drums gives way first to minimalist jamband death metal twin-guitar lines, then a double-speed pogoing anthem, before a hanging close reprise of the ‘stoner jazz’ piano… 

Hypnotically deep trancefloor bass, bubbling marimba-like accents and textured string synths underpin the increasingly urgent mantra of Whaddya Want, which canters (via some nice 80s samples and a Moroderesque hook) into a wall of melodic prog-fusion guitar and tricksy timings, ending in a staccato, punchy dead-stop.

Headlock almost convinces you it’s just the one thing: the complex percussive techno banger runs nearly half its 4-plus minutes with no more quirks beyond a bit of rapping and an occasional (very accomplished) noodling fretless bass… until that bass line returns in a full-on rendition augmented with guitar and increasingly abandoned multi-voice wordless “Na, na, na-na”s sounding like a terrace-chant Bond theme, rising to a wild peak.

As with Mango Thomas Goes De.EP his previous release, Fuck The Algorithm includes a trio of mini-tracks: Did You Mean’s spoken voice/SFX humorous rant against the Siri-tyranny of patronising suggestions; #fuckthealgorithm, a reprise of the polemic from Pjunkle set over a rather Hawkindish interstellar overdrive start-up; and Frosty Mornings, which actually does stick to its single groove of smoothly-swaying soully electric piano, heartbeat pulse rhythms and lush synth strings (although the swirling modulation, panning and phasing add an unexpected off-kilter spacey edge).

By seven tracks in, we’re all Mango Thomas veterans now, so Algorithms’ light and airy acoustic picking and mellow folky troubadour vox-led ‘love song’ aren’t fooling anybody… sure enough, the expected Oi-meets-Nu-Metal explosion of syn-drum and gutsy guitar heralds a blokey belted-out “We’re all algorithms” denunciation of the foregoing syrupy delusions, topped with very Frippish atonal guitar and a deconstructed brassy jazz-funk finale.

Now, this might all sound like a recipe for disaster, or at least a cacophonous dog’s dinner, and in the hands of someone less adept it could well be... but Mango Thomas pulls the feat off with considerable aplomb. Fuck The Algorithm is one of a handful of home-grown albums that has had me grooving and grinning simultaneously and, even more rare, laughing out loud at its invention, audacity and sheer joyous insanity. It’s fucking brilliant!

Oh yeah, almost forgot…

*****PARENTAL GUIDANCE*****

... both for the album and this review!

First single Pjunkle will be available to stream from 9th February 2024 (with subsequent releases following every 2 months) - click here for links to pre-save singles, buy the album, merch, and much more: https://linktr.ee/mangothomasmusic/

[gktravel]

7 Tips for Visiting the Largest Cities in the USA

A trip across the biggest cities in the USA is sure to be an exciting experience, full of vibrant urban energy, famous sites, and a variety of cultural experiences. Every city has its own distinct character and offers a wide range of activities to suit every choice and taste. These metropolises are enormous playgrounds for adventure, with the relaxing attitudes of Los Angeles and the flashing lights of New York City.

It's important to equip yourself with useful advice before embarking on this urban adventure to make the most of it and guarantee a smooth stay. It takes careful preparation, knowledge of regional traditions, and a willingness to stray from the well-travelled tourist routes to navigate these vast cities' diverse landscapes. This book will offer priceless tips on making the most of your trip, from using public transit to enjoying a variety of gastronomic experiences. So, buckle up and join us as we take a trip into the canter of the biggest cities in the USA, where we'll discover the secrets to an enlightening and unforgettable adventure.

Here are some tips for visiting the largest cities in the USA.

1. Planning Ahead for City Exploration: Give your trip some thought before hopping into the colourful turmoil of the biggest American cities. Decide on the neighbourhoods and main sites you want to see. Think about things like neighbourhood activities, weather, and transit alternatives. Numerous cities sell reduced city passes that allow access to a number of attractions and public transit, making the trip easier and more affordable.

 2. Using Public Transit: The vast metropolises of the United States of America frequently have sophisticated public transit networks. Learn the routes of the city's buses, subways, and commuter trains so that you can get around effectively. You may jump on and off of several kinds of transportation at your convenience using city cards or passes. To stay current on real-time transportation information, be sure you check the timetables and download the necessary applications.

3. Accepting Diversity in Culinary Adventures: The variety of cuisine available in big cities is one of the best things about traveling there. Every city presents a fusion of tastes that reflects the diversity of its cultures. Take advantage of the opportunity to enjoy regional specialties, from food trucks to elegant restaurants. Try some local delicacies and be adventurous; your taste buds will take you on a culinary adventure. Some examples of these specialties include bagels in New York, street tacos in Los Angeles, and deep-dish pizza in Chicago.

4. Acclimating to Local Etiquette and Norms: Every city has its own cadence, and a smooth experience depends on your knowledge of the norms and etiquette of the area. Observe and adjust to local customs and behaviours, such as tipping customs, expected public conduct, and queuing procedures. Respectful interactions with locals improve your vacation and help you develop a strong bond with the area.

5. Discovering Places Outside of Tourist Hotspots: Although famous sites are a must-see, don't stick to the tourist traps. Explore the neighbourhoods to get a true sense of the city. Talk to people, go to the local markets, and check out the parks where the locals congregate. This gives you a more sophisticated perspective of the city's culture and makes it possible for you to find undiscovered treasures that the guidebooks might not mention.

6. Weather-appropriate clothing: American cities have wildly different climates. Make sure you pack for the weather at your location by checking the forecast. Layers let you adapt to fluctuations in temperature throughout the day, so they're usually an excellent choice. It is important to wear comfortable shoes, particularly if you intend to explore the city on foot. If you want to stay hydrated, especially in warmer locations, think about bringing a reusable water bottle.

7. Maintaining Safety and Vigilance: Although big cities provide amazing experiences, it's important to maintain vigilance and put safety first. Pay attention to your possessions, particularly in busy places. Investigate safe neighbourhoods; stay away from strange places late at night. Get to know the emergency phone numbers and the fundamentals of the nearby medical institutions. If something doesn't seem right, follow your gut and get help.

Exploring the enormous landscapes and dynamic cultures of the biggest American cities is an experience that is sure to leave a lasting impression. When your urban trip comes to an end, consider the variety of experiences you had, from seeing famous sites to finding hidden treasures in nearby districts. The advice in this book is meant to improve your travel experience and make sure that your time in these vibrant cities is smooth and rewarding. Look at USA holiday packages from Dubai if you're looking for a hassle-free, well-planned adventure. These carefully chosen packages offer a customized way to take advantage of everything each city has to offer, in addition to streamlining the logistics of your trip. These packages provide a thorough look into the diverse fabric of American urban life, from the busy streets of New York to the relaxed charm of San Francisco. Take with you the dynamic energy, varied cuisines, and rich cultural diversity that characterize each place as you wave adieu to the city lights and skyscrapers. The biggest cities in the United States are poised to enthral and inspire you, regardless of your interests in the arts, delicious food, or historical sites. For a hassle-free and immersive experience with the unmatched attraction of these dynamic metropolitan environments, think about vacation packages to the USA from Dubai.

[notbecauseofvictories]

I'm thinking about applying to colleges in Philadelphia, so I'd like to know what your favorite places were in the city.

Philly is a cluttered antique store of a city and I cannot overstate the importance of just sort of...wandering through it sometimes. I discovered an entire alley of Zagar mosaics and murals and graffiti just by ducking around a corner one day. If you meander through Center City in spring, it’s like a pop-up botanical garden: so many flowers, so much green. One Saturday I went from river to river---Delaware to Schuylkill, camera in hand---and it was genuinely one of the best experiences I had in the city.

(Another time, a friend and I were sitting outside a bar on South Street, talking and nursing our drinks when a pair of black men on horseback cantered past. I think I gasped. Yeah, my friend said nonchalantly, Philly is famous for its Black cowboys, who ride out from the African-American-owned and operated stables on the South Side. 

Personally, I thought she was not appreciative enough of how obviously magical that moment was: the yellowed street light, the night air, and the sight of them like something out of time.)

But if you’re asking for specific places, these are my favorites: 

The Schuylkill Banks---Any park that’s long and skinny and runs parallel to a body of water is just...automatically very important to me. (If I ever went too far from Chicago’s Lakeshore, I think I’d die.) I biked up and down the Schuylkill plenty of times and it wends past public parks, boat houses, museums, nature preserves, statuary and cliffsides and cemeteries, the zoo...It truly was one of my favorite places to kill a Saturday. Especially because it was basically a constant ‘choose your own adventure’ book in terms of what you could see or explore.

Rittenhouse Square---To be fair, this is also a tourist destination, and an area so thick with gentrification that you could choke. But for people-watching and farmers markets, art sales and just hanging out, I never found anything to compare. Say hello to the greyhounds for me, I miss them.

There’s an Ethiopian restaurant in Philly (I’m sorry, I do not remember the name) with a bar on the second floor. My friend went to the bathroom and I leaned over (slightly tipsy) and tapped our neighbor on the shoulder, because she was wearing a jean jacket with a giant applique of Truth Coming Out of Her Well and I thought it was cool. We ended up combining tables, drinking too much, and having a fantastic night.

Cemeteries! I love cemeteries always in any context, but Philly had so many of them in close proximity, and they were always so cool. Laurel Hill had the best programming, but the Woodlands was always my favorite in the fall. You could sit and listen to a horror podcast for hours, with no interruption but the occasional polite nod to a jogger.

I have come around to Independence Mall. It’s obviously even more of a tourist destination than Center City, but it’s also a massive public park flanked by museums, and worth checking out. They also offer a lot of great programming, including the Opera on the Mall.

There is no thing I love in Philly more than Bartram’s Garden. If I had a million dollars to spend, I would give...well, a lot of it, to them. Not only is it a beautiful place, combining a historical site with rambling paths and gardens on the banks of the Schuylkill (with canoe rentals!) but they are passionate advocates for West/Southwest Philly. They run so many phenomenal education programs, collaborating with local artists and businesses to do it. They recently welcomed urban cowboy Malik Divers to build stables beside the property. If you have the chance to volunteer, or help with outreach...they are doing amazing work.

Mütter Museum: Philly has a lot of museums and a lot of them are wonderful, but this one is the weirdest, focuses on the history of medicine, and is therefore my favorite.

There’s more I haven’t mentioned here. But Philly really is a---well, “antique store” is the cruder way of saying “jewel box.” Say what you like about it, but there always seems to be something more to catch your eye.

[creativeprocesssophielindsay]

LOUISE BOURGEOIS

Louise Bourgeois, Femme Maison (1946-47)

http://unahumana.blogspot.com/2014/05/louise-bourgeois.html

Louise Bourgeois, Ode A L’Oubli, 2002

https://www.moma.org/collection/works/98440

Louise Bourgeois, The Blind Leading the Blind (1947-49)

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonian-institution/weekend-events-louise-bourgeois-kirkikou-and-the-sorceress-40400043/

Louise Bourgeois Femme Volage (Fickle Woman) (1951)

https://www.lofficielmexico.com/arte-y-cultura/5-minutos-conocer-louise-bourgeois

Louise Bourgeois, Forêt (Night Garden) (1953)

https://www.invaluable.com/auction-lot/louise-bourgeois-foret-night-garden-other-31-c-67lxlzrq19

Childhood

Louise Bourgeois was born in Paris in 1911 and named after her father Louis, who had wanted a son. Most of the year, her family lived in the fashionable St. Germain in an apartment above the gallery where her parents sold their tapestries. The family also had a villa and workshop in the countryside where they spent their weekends restoring antique tapestries. Throughout her childhood, Bourgeois was recruited to help in the workshop by washing, mending, sewing, and drawing, overseen by her mother Josephine, with whom she was very close. As an adolescent, Bourgeois attended the elite Lycee Fenelon in Paris.

Despite all appearances pointing to a thriving family in which the young artist was exposed to certain privileges, there were persistent tensions in the household. This was because her father's mistress (who was also Bourgeois' tutor) resided with the family. This circumstance marked the pivotal trauma that would later come to inform Bourgeois' highly autobiographical artworks surrounding family, motherhood, relationships, fidelity, abandonment, the body, and trust.

Early Training

Bourgeois received an extensive education. In the early 1930s, she studied math and philosophy at the Sorbonne, where she wrote her thesis on Blaise Pascal and Emmanuel Kant. After the death of her mother in 1932, she began studying art, enrolling in several schools and ateliers between 1934 and 1938, including the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, the Academie Ranson, the Academie Julian, and the Academie de la Grande-Chaumiere. Her first Paris apartment was on the rue de Seine in the same building as André Breton's Galerie Gradiva, where she became familiar with the work of the Surrealists. In 1938, she began exhibiting her work at the Salon d'Automne and opened her own gallery in a sectioned-off area of her father's tapestry showroom, exhibiting prints and paintings. Through this short stint as an art dealer, she met and married art historian Robert Goldwater, with whom she'd relocate to New York City later that year.

Mature Period

Upon arrival in New York, Bourgeois enrolled at the Art Students League and focused her attention on printmaking and painting. She also had three children over a four-year period. Throughout the 1940s and '50s, Goldwater introduced Bourgeois to a plethora of New York artists, critics, and dealers, including most importantly, Alfred Barr, the director of the Museum of Modern Art, who bought one of her works for its collection in 1953. In the late '40s and '50s, she had several solo shows in various New York galleries. Her husband received a Fulbright grant and they returned with their children to France in the early 1950s, during which time her father died. Bourgeois began psychoanalysis in 1952, which she continued and off until 1985. In the 1960s, she began experimenting with latex, plaster, and rubber, and travelled to Italy, where she worked with marble and bronze.

Late Period

Bourgeois' husband died in 1973, the same year she began teaching at various institutions in New York City, including the Pratt Institute, Brooklyn College, and Cooper Union. It was during this time that she started hosting Sunday salons in her Chelsea apartment, which would become legendary. At these intimate sessions, students and young artists would bring their work to be critiqued by Bourgeois, who could be ruthless, referring to the gatherings, with characteristically dry humour, as "Sunday, bloody Sunday." Nevertheless, her accessibility and willingness to advise younger artists was exceptional for an established artist of such standing.

She also participated in several exhibits in the 1970s and '80s and began presenting performance pieces. In the 1970s, Bourgeois became politically active as a socialist and a feminist. She joined the Fight Censorship Group, which defended the use of sexually explicit imagery in art and made several of her own sexually explicit works related to the female body, such as Fillette (1968). Marking her prestige in the art world, Bourgeois had her first retrospective in 1982 at MoMA, which was the first given to a female artist at that institution. In 1993, Bourgeois, who became an American citizen in 1955, was chosen to represent the USA in the Venice Biennale. She died in 2010.

The Legacy of Louise Bourgeois

Bourgeois' work always cantered upon the reconstruction of memory, and in her 98 years, she produced an astounding body of sculptures, drawings, books, prints, and installations.

Bourgeois' work helped inform the burgeoning feminist art movement and continues to influence feminist-inspired work and Installation Art. The first Assemblages of Louise Nevelson, for example, were produced a few years after Bourgeois had been experimenting with similar environments, such as Bourgeois' Blind Leading the Blind (1947-49) and Night Garden (1953). Her focus on both male and female genitalia during the 1960s was an important precursor to Feminist artists such as Lynda Benglis and Judy Chicago, whose works address similar interests.

Her work on diffusing the complexities surrounding sexuality, processing its strands in our lives, and dissecting the reverberations of its presence on our emotional, intellectual, and physical existence has informed male artists as well, like Robert Mapplethorpe, who has given her credit for opening up new ways to consider the body, its relations, and its unique identity in his own photography.

Her marriage of tapestry and fabric with sculptural principles has also been seen in the world of fashion, as noted designers such as Comme Des Garcons and Simon Rocha, conceived collections based on her interconnecting shapes and forms.

[layesica]

2019: It was a year that ends tonight.

2018 was rough, right? Well, so was 2019!

I did not feel like writing this, but it’s a tradition now, so for the fifth year in a row, here’s what I did all year with some of the crappy crap that made it not the greatest. I can’t promise an unwavering sense of optimism, but it’s okay. I’m okay. Here we go!

JANUARY Went to The Not Inappropriate Show at UCB curated by the Odenkirks, then Spent New Years Eve at Dynasty Typewriter with Ian & Emily. It was fun, but... eh. Home is better, y’all. Home is always better. Did a couple performances of a show at Second City – A Fonzie Scheme. It was fun. I was in an improv class at The Pack. I think it was Improv 4. The last weekend of January, Very Famous went to Sketchfest, which was super amazing. That’s, like, a goal. And even though it had pretty much nothing to do with anything I did, it was cool. And it was fun. And I was at a party with Neil Patrick Harris and I was SUPER cool about it.

Went to stuff: LA Times screening of Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse. It was free, and I would have never seen it otherwise. I enjoyed it. It was good.

Salt & Straw Flavor: Toasted Coconut Milk & Cookies (V)

FEBRUARY Made a return trip with Ian & Emily to San Francisco. Well, Oakland with an SF jaunt. I don’t have any cool stories, but Emily fought a seagull for her cookie and won, and that was pretty badass. On the drive back, there was a ton of snow just on the other side of the Angeles National Forest. I wasn’t excited enough to get out of the car, but snow is nice to look at. Oh, I had lunch with one of the head writers on my dream show that my old roommate met at the gym. I am terrible at networking.

Went to stuff: LA Times screening of VICE. It was free, and I would have seen it... eventually. It was... a bit... self-indulgent.

Salt & Straw Flavor: “The Chocolatier Series” = Jeni’s Coffee & Sweet Cream

MARCH Auditioned for a house improv team at The Pack. I didn’t mention working with a practice group all of February & March to prep for that. The biggest bummer about not getting on a team may have been the loss of that practice group. It was fun while it lasted.

Went to stuff: Saw comedy dads, Bob & David, at Largo. They asked for volunteers, and I almost passed just thinking about it. Ian & Emily jumped up there. Good for them!

Salt & Straw Flavor: Smoked Sea Salt & Chocolate Crack

APRIL Interviewed for a new job at one of the guilds. HEY! I owe the government $3700. That’s fun! I went ahead and added a good purse to my new 0 APR card.

Went to stuff: Dana Gould Podcast at Dynasty Typewriter. Panel with Conan Writers at Lyric Hyperion. For some reason, I saw Avengers: Endgame. I dunno. I feel like I should see it through for some reason. Deadline did their day-long FYC event, The Contenders, at Paramount, so I spent all day seeing so many people from TV and eating so much yummy food in between. Amazon FYC at Hollywood Athletic Club – went mostly for the building. Prime seat at Conan taping.

Salt & Straw Flavor: Wildflower Honey with Ricotta Walnut Lace Cookies – I wait all year for this to roll around again!

MAY We were supposed to have a call for a travel show on Buzzfeed, but they ghosted us. I went camping with a huge group at Idyllwild, which would have been fun, but it was FREEZING and I got SUPER sick on the second day. After a few days, I got better and got the guild job. Free insurance, baby! (More on that later.) Bought a Universal pass.

Went to stuff: A UCB show with people from Chicago. Free Booksmart screening with Q&A. Such a good movie! LA Times panel for Broad City. I never really watched it, but I would love to have a partnership like that! Netflix FYSee for Nanette. Guys, people are like vultures for the passed trays. Adam Sandler at Dynasty Typewriter. Attended the actual red carpet, fancy-pants premiere of Amazon’s Late Night. It was enjoyable and not at all realistic, and I could not stop staring at John Early in the theater. He glows!

Salt & Straw Flavor: Pear & Blue Cheese

JUNE Went to stuff: FYSee for Dead To Me. I had not seen it yet, but then I watched it and it’s good. JV show at UCB with Paul F Tompkins. Did a lap at the AT&T Shape event that is always free. I only go to be on the WB lot where I would like to be more often. Like, 40+ hours a week more often. That’s it. I just went to stuff.

Salt & Straw Flavor: Campfire S’mores (with Brian)

JULY SO. MANY. EARTHQUAKES. After the third one, it stopped being cute. Went for a drive to the Angeles Forest and hiked to a waterfall. Did a sketch with Very Famous at Packcon. It was a small group, so I got a part! Huzzah!

Went to stuff: Saw Once Upon a Time in Hollywood at the Cinerama dome. (First visit!) Not a great idea because I kept trying to pick out the scenery and got a bit of motion sickness. Shirtless Brad Pitt on a roof in the ‘70s is nice.

Salt & Straw Flavor: Goat Cheese Marionberry Habanero (2x)

AUGUST Went on a random overnight to San Jose. Time to get panicky about Pack Sketch Teams! I did what I should have done last year and requested to be moved. I loved the people on my team, but I wasn’t getting a return on investment for myself. And that’s no fun. Did a show called Gibberish with Duckboi as Sharon Osborne and wore a great wig. Sketch is fun. Fell off my bike & got bruised legs.

Went to stuff: Mike O’Brien & Friends at Lyric Hyperion. Saw some Pack shows to be a supportive. Put up a sketch at GSY.

Salt & Straw Flavor: Green Fennel & Maple

SEPTEMBER Started working tech at UCB. It’s pretty easy. I get to see new faces... and old faces, too. I have no more comedy theaters to work at. Well, unless someone is going to pay me real money. My vision has been getting blurrier, so I went to the eye doctor to get new glasses. Ended up getting referred to a specialist for a “freckle” in my eyeball, but had to wait a month to go. Submitted a character video for Pack Sketch performer auditions. Got a callback! That’s one step further than last years attempt, and I actually came up with characters and I was pretty proud of it. Came up with more characters, then faced the fear of being on a stage all by myself while trying to be funny. I felt good about it. It used to take a day to find out, but not this time...

Link to Character Audition Video

Went to stuff: Got an AMAZING ticket (location & price) to see Skintight at the Geffen with friggin’ Idina Menzel. She is a queen! It’s a cute theater I should go to more stuff at. Saw Scott Thompson as Buddy Cole at the Lyric Hyperion. So good! I think I’ve seen the evolving show every year I’ve lived here. My face hurts for several days after. Lyndsey got a fancy job and invited me to the Dreamworks Friends & Family screening of Abominable. Would not have seen it. It was cute. Thanks, Lyndsey!

Salt & Straw Flavor: Forgettable

OCTOBER Flew to Denver for my cousin’s wedding. I almost typed, “weeding.” That’s Colorado for you. It was my first time to see my family all year. The time just got away from me. I got a late flight out and spent the day walking around Denver on my own. Went to a good bookstore. Ate some Giordano’s. Left my luggage in a van. Found out I got cut from Very Famous – also, Very Famous got cut from sketch night – and I didn’t make a new team. Started watching new season of Mr. Robot and felt so lost, so started it from the beginning. The new Almodóvar came out, so I bought one of those expensive Arclight tickets. It was very, very good. Maybe my favorite Almodóvar film. Worth it! Saw the specialist about my eye. They dilated it, took a bunch of pictures, did a closed-eye ultrasound (Yeah, they use jelly for that!), and refereed me to another specialist. Hunter picked me up, and I ate at Canter’s for the first time. The specialist’s office made the appointment for me at an oncologist. Guys, I just wanted new glasses and now can’t stop Googling some pretty scary stuff! Lyndsey took me to USC & hung out with me for a while. They dilated my eye, took a bunch of pictures of it with a bunch of different machines, performed an OPEN EYE ultrasound, saw two trainees and then the doctor. She said she is not diagnosing me with melanoma. BUT it has the orange color and a sliver of the fluid that are “concerning.” The pictures of the tumor weren’t as large at the ophthalmologist’s pictures made it look. So... bright side, I guess. I go back in January to check for changes. Margot scooped me up and brought me home. Baby’s first root canal! 

For our very last Very Famous show, everyone got to put up a sketch they wrote. My favorite had too much production, so I did a black out. It turned out great, and I felt loved. It was a very nice way to go out.

Went to stuff: Two weeks after the Arclight screening, the LA Times invited me to see Pain & Glory with a Q&A, so I finally got to be in a room with my favorite director. I may have cried... slightly more than I did just seeing the film.

Salt & Straw Flavor: Black Cat Licorice & Lavender (2 cones, 1 pint)

NOVEMBER It was time for Penelope’s annual visit to the vet, so I rented a car for the weekend and took her. She had lost quite a bit of weight. I sprung for all the tests, and she has kidney disease. Her numbers aren’t terrible, but there’s not really treatment for it. We switched to a new kind of prescription food. All I can do is be good to her and try to keep her hydrated & happy. So... yeah... September – November have been... uh... not so great. On the bright side, I got invited to be in the Night Cap with Stacy Rumaker show as a character! I love this show so much - and when you read a thing in December, this show is the exception to that. I was so nervous, but I pulled it together and think it went very well. It felt good! Also, I am so emotionally invested in Mr. Robot! Mom & Dad came to visit for Thanksgiving and that was a nice relief. It rained most of the time, but we got out at about a bit.

Went to stuff: Vulture Fest screening of MacGruber with Will Forte & John Solomon.

Salt & Straw Flavor: Spiced Goat Cheese & Pumpkin Pie (with Mom & Dad)

DECEMBER Fell off my bike, bruised my legs, and scraped a chunk of skin off my hand. Finally: I left my mark on this town! I was not in the mood to plan a birthday thing, but rented a car to take Penelope for her health certificate she might need to fly home with me, then went on a showtune-belting drive on my birthday. Not the best drive ever, but it was nice to just drive aimlessly. Margot went with me to dinner at an Italian place in Los Feliz. In other news, Penelope gained some weight. Then I flew home for Christmas. I’ve just been sitting around with Mom & Dad, and it has been great. I had lunch with Justin & traditional margaritas & Tex-Mex with Lindsey. I finally did an entire month of morning pages after 4 years, so I may be done with that. Oh, and I (temporarily) quit comedy.

Went to stuff: Saw CATS (can’t hate on a bad movie with bad source material) & Little Women (I cried so much!)

Salt & Straw Flavor: Apple Brandy & Pecan Pie (with Brian), but I’m in Texas now, so I’m ending the year with some Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla. Do better, Tyler!

So, that’s it. I was not looking forward to this, but it did make me feel a little better since the crap at the end has just felt like it has beaten me down. I’m not a quitter, but a breaker is maybe a good idea for a bit. I don’t have any resolutions for 2020.

If you’re still here, THANK YOU for reading my yearly download. I hope that you are doing well.

You’re great!

I love you!

Have a great 2020!

[tackless]

it's been a while since i've shared any sort of life update here so i thought i would share what's new:

i work full time in marketing these days

i bought a house a little over a year ago

i stopped riding horses for now (see bought a house - it takes up all my time and money right now)

i took a volunteer photographer position at CANTER Chicago, and am finally starting to fall in love with photography again after a year away from horses

[rainythefox]

Oh, Brother (RDR2 Fanfic Ch.1)

Summary: 1885, Illinois. A young Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur wander into a country town following a lead to swindle a wealthy homestead and break their control over the town. But while scoping it out, Arthur encounters a young John Marston, setting fate in motion that will eventually become a rocky, yet loyal brotherhood. A short multi-chapter fic revolving around how Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur met John, further developing what would eventually become the Van der Linde gang. Rated T for language, some violence, drinking/drugs and mischief. It will mostly be Frienship/Family and Humor, but there will be Action/Adventure with some violence!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Red Dead Redemption franchise, Rockstar, or its characters, etc. This is just for fun.

Chapter 1

"I did no such thing."

Hosea's tone was playful as he rubbed a hand through his light-blond hair before placing a hat upon his head. Dutch made a sound nearby, a mix between a chuckle and a snort as he spurred his horse to canter alongside them.

"Oh, dear brother, don't play sly with me. Even Arthur can see straight through your façade. That much is painfully clear."

"His what?" Arthur drawled, shaking his head, already impatient. "Are we lost or not?"

"I may have slightly got us off course."

"Hosea, you said it was due southeast of the camp."

"Southeast?" Arthur grunted, glaring at Dutch. "Bessie said southwest."

"Did she?" Hosea asked, glancing over his shoulder at the path behind them. "Huh, that explains a lot."

They halted their horses on the road, Arthur voicing his displeasure with a groan. Dutch wheezed a laugh beside him. A gust of wind brushed by, plains surrounding them. The same, dull prairie had been their only scenery for the couple hour ride they've done.

"My friend the master con artist, horrible with directions."

Hosea waved them off. "I haven't been down this way in ten goddamn years. What do you expect? And every blade of grass looks the same."

"Next time maybe you should stay behind, old man, an' we can bring Bessie instead," Arthur said.

"Very funny, my boy."

"Jus' sayin'."

"Now come on, son, where is the fun in that? We couldn't get into quite as much trouble with 'ol Bessie and Susan around."

"That's the point!" Arthur looked around. "Can we move? I feel exposed here."

"We're exposed everywhere," Dutch replied. "What, you missing Chicago?"

"Hell no!"

"Okay then."

"We got company," Hosea announced.

A wagon pulled by two draft horses met them on the road, coming from behind them. The wagon was full of produce, skins, and other materials. Two men rode in the front while two sat in the back, and all four were armed. Arthur was quick to notice the men's suspicious glares as they rode up on them.

Dutch cleared his throat. "Let me handle this." And directed his horse over to the wagon. The men got their repeaters ready, but Arthur knew Dutch's charm would pacify them easily.

"Hello, gentlemen! My dear friend, his nephew, and I are sight seeing 'round these parts. Decided to get away from Chicago for a bit, and got a little lost. They're as stubborn as mules asking for directions. We're trying to find the town of Andell, could you so kindly point us in the right direction?"

"Andell?" the older man echoed, eyebrows furrowing. He scratched at his full beard. "That's across the river. You a ways off, pal. Ya'll have to head back yonder to Canker Point and take the trail to the river and find the 'ol run down station before headin' west into Andell."

Dutch smiled, a hand to his chest as he dipped his head. "Thank you, friend. You may have saved our necks."

"Not sure why ya boys would wanna go to Andell though," the older man continued. "Fire took out most of it 'bout a year ago or so. It's not near as populated as it was."

Arthur sighed. Well, there went their chance at poking around for jobs. The young man slouched atop his horse, but Hosea didn't break his "hello, I'm a polite gentleman and harmless" expression. Dutch didn't show any falter to the news.

"Is that right? That's quite a shame. I was hoping to surprise an 'ol friend down this way. He's from Chicago too. Had ambitions to start up a livery stable in these parts, if I remember correctly."

One of the younger men in the back of the wagon perked up. He looked to be in his early twenties just like Arthur, only wasn't near as large and sturdy as he was. "Oh, we know that feller. You talkin' 'bout a Mister Galligan right?"

A sly smirk eased on Dutch's face. "Why yes, that's him. I hope he is well?"

"He moved over to the town of Hickory, which is where we're headin'."

Dutch glanced back at his older partner-in-crime, their subtle exchange something only the two of them understood. Dutch turned back to the travelers.

"Why, you fellas are our saving grace today. May we join you on your ride to Hickory?"

The older wagon driver glanced at his passengers then back to Dutch. "Sure. We don't want no trouble though."

Dutch eased their new traveling companions with a gentle laugh, a hand to his chest. "You'll get no such thing from us. Well, except for my brooding friend right there, he's a little grumpy at times."

Arthur gave Dutch a look. He and Hosea trotted alongside the wagon with Dutch as it followed the road to Hickory. Arthur stayed quiet, letting Dutch and Hosea sweet-talk the wagon riders and only talking when spoken to. It wasn't long before Hosea was drawing them in with some humorous story about a faulty fishing trip while portraying one of his many personas.

The wagon riders laughed and after that they were a lot more open and talkative, which is exactly what Dutch and Hosea wanted. Arthur heard the exchange of names, the aliases that his mentors chose this time around. The wagon driver, Hester, and his son, and the other two men were ranch hands for a wealthy homesteader family within the area. They explained how the Warrens were strict and hard to work for, how they used their prosperity to take over the town of Hickory.

Their complaints and frankness drove Dutch and Hosea to exchange knowing smirks with each other. Arthur knew them well enough to know that an idea was hatching. He swore it was like the two men could read each other's thoughts at times. He didn't quite understand it.

After traveling together on the road for an hour, the town of Hickory came into view. It was a bit smaller than what they were used to in scouting for jobs, but it would do. It was average, nothing quite unique stood out to Arthur, and he noticed the typical stores, homes, and dirt roads. The small town seemed to be quite populated, however. Men, women, and children walked the streets, some hollered out to others. Horseback riders and those on wagons kept the roads busy with traffic.

"Now this is quite a town you have here, Mister Foll," Hosea said. "Ya know, I think I've been here years before, and well, seems to have grown considerably."

"I'm sure it ain't nothin' like what you boys are used to in Chicago, but it's an alright town. The Warrens are to thank for its growth, but since they've taken over most stores and businesses, prices have gone up and, well, there're far more poor folk than there should be."

"Such a shame," Dutch said, dark eyes already scanning for opportunities.

"Anyways, this is where we go our separate ways, we gotta get these supplies to Mister Warren. You fellas be careful. Hickory has a thievin’ problem. Ya'll find your friend Mister Galligan on the far side of town at the stables."

Hosea and Dutch waved them off as the wagon turned down a different road. Dutch turned his horse to face Hosea and Arthur as they looked over the town before them. The town was surrounded by more plains, a forest not far to the west. Besides the stores and houses, there were also livestock barns and pens. It looked to be mostly sheep and pigs here.

"Smell that gentlemen?"

"Yeah, smells like shit," Arthur grumbled.

"No, opportunities, Arthur. Did you not pay attention?" Dutch said, shaking his head.

"Aw c'mon, Dutch. There ain't nothin' here. I betchu that Mister Galligan lost all that money. Why else would he leave the city? He gon' have worse men than us after him."

Hosea chuckled. "He left because he has the money, you sulky buffoon. You still upset about what happened?"

"It weren't my fault."

"We never said it was, son."

"Eh, it wasn't that big of a loss anyway. We've been doing this for eight years, Arthur. Some jobs just don't pan out. Best to get over it," Hosea explained.

"Sure."

"Let's hit the saloon. I'm parched. We can discuss some ideas there, get a feel of the town," Dutch ordered, spurring his horse into a trot.

"Okay, Dutch," Hosea answered.

Arthur rode behind his mentors. They hitched their horses outside the small saloon. Inside, several folks drank and laughed away. The voices bounced through the walls, and Arthur scanned the room, the faces, the behaviors. It looked like there would be no trouble.

Dutch got them some drinks and they talked to the side, watching the townsfolk drink and chatter away.

Dutch and Hosea stood out amongst most of the people. They always wore nicer clothes, Dutch especially. Dutch had grown a mustache in the past couple years and kept it trimmed and neat, but Hosea remained clean-shaven as always. Despite Hosea being nearly twelve years older than Dutch, his eyes shown with the same youth, the same passion and ambition.

Arthur himself had grown considerably since they found him eight years ago. No longer a lanky, dirty teenager, he bulked up some and now had some scruff on his face. He wasn't as rowdy or impolite as he was when they first found him, the typical orphan delinquent. Although, he kept Dutch and Hosea on their toes with his sarcastic, often cynical nature.

His clothes weren't near as kept and clean as his mentors', but he often had the dirtier jobs. He finally could wear his father's hat without it swallowing his head. He may have not have liked his blood father too much, but he sure as hell liked his hat.

"Seems like good people here," Dutch said finally. "I'm quite interested about these Warrens our talkative friends spoke of."

"They didn't shut up once you charmed them," Hosea joked. "I'm curious though."

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Hosea grinned and Arthur rolled his eyes. "I thought we was here for Mister Galligan, not these Warren folks?"

Dutch patted him on the back. "If you'd paid attention on our humble ride into town, you would've heard the plight of our friends. The Warrens sound like your typical wealthy overlords of the region. Can you imagine what we could take from them?"

Hosea took a shot, letting the bartender give him another. "I'll look into the Warrens, see what I can find. Dutch, you've been wanting a crack at Mister Galligan for three weeks. Maybe you should go check that out?"

Dutch took his own shot, puffing from its bitterness. "Sure. I mean, if you’re confident you can handle some hillbilly homesteaders who think they run this place?"

"You offend me, sir," Hosea mocked.

Dutch laughed. "Well, Arthur. How about you survey the town? See what else there is that we can take advantage of?"

"Sure, Dutch." Arthur raised his glass and gulped it down, hissing at the burn. "Jus' don't leave me here. I'd love to see Miss Grimshaw and Misses Matthews tan both yer hides once this is over."

Dutch lit a cigar as they headed out of the saloon. "Knowing them, they're getting into their own trouble."

Arthur laughed. "No doubt!"

Dutch bowed once they were outside. "I bid you adieu, my dear brothers. See you soon."

"Hey, make sure you drag 'em behind a horse when you're through with 'em!" Arthur hollered.

"Shh," Hosea hissed, a hand going to the younger man's shoulder. "Don't give him any ideas."

"He's the one with the ideas, I'm jus' sayin'! That fool ruined our last job outside Chicago. Nearly broke my goddamn neck."

"We aren't here for revenge. We don't do that. We're here for his money, that's all. The job just didn't go as planned, Arthur. We're outta here once it's done, alright?"

Hosea was always able to settle him with his calm words and caring, wise eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Hosea smiled, patting Arthur's arm. "Alright. Well, get out there, boy, and see what you can find. We'll meet back here later."

Hosea went his own way in town. Arthur heaved a sigh, looking about. Time to get to work, he guessed. Straightening his hat, he stepped away from the saloon over to his horse.

"You be good, fella," Arthur said, patting the bay gelding's neck.

The next few hours, Arthur spent his time going into businesses and stores, getting the feel of the people and the town of Hickory. He eavesdropped on any interesting conversations his ears picked up. Apparently, the Warrens had a livestock auction every Thursday. It was something they could look into.

Later, he overheard the Warrens had some kind of cellar behind one of their barns that they always kept locked up and guarded. This piqued Arthur's interest, and he was excited to tell Dutch and Hosea about it.

While he waited for his father figures to return to him, he leaned on a hitch near their horses smoking a cigarette. He nodded and waved at passersby, just to keep up a friendly appearance. The town of Hickory must've had strangers coming and going a lot, because the townsfolk barely paid him any mind. Arthur liked that.

"Hey, Mister!"

Arthur turned around, only to see the body of a young boy flying through the air. The boy crashed into him, throwing Arthur onto his back, the wind knocked out of him from the kid's legs slamming his gut.

"Oof! What the hell?!" He coughed.

The boy had dark hair, and laughed as he cut his satchel strap, taking it and the hat atop Arthur's head before dashing off. Arthur scrambled to his feet, anger coming over him as he realized he had just been robbed by a damn kid.

"Get back here, you little shit!"

He chased after the boy as he took an alleyway between two stores. He looked to be around eleven or twelve, although Arthur could tell he was scrawny for his age. His hair fell past his chin in greasy dark locks, and his clothes were tattered and dirty.

For being small and thin, the kid could run fast and was nimble, ducking and swerving out of Arthur's grasp each time he went to snatch him. He knew the town well, weaving through people and farm equipment. Arthur barreled his way through folks, keeping the boy in his sights.

The boy climbed up and ran along a fence top before jumping into a pig pen and cutting away. Arthur heaved himself over, kicking and yelling at pigs to get through.

"I'm gonna wring yer neck! Com'ere, boy!"

"Catch me if ya can, ya big oaf!" He had a distinct, raspy voice.

The kid ducked under another wood fence. Arthur vaulted over it seconds later. He kept at the boy's heels, but the slippery little heathen would only veer away, using obstacles and people to stop Arthur. He jumped and grabbed onto a moving wagon as Arthur came back out into the street. Arthur ran after him on foot, the boy laughing.

"Nah nah, ya can't catch me. Why don'tchu give up?"

"Stop that wagon, mister! Ya got a little monster on the back of it!"

The wagon driver turned around at the holler, pulling on the reins to stop the horses. The boy ditched the wagon and darted for another building, Arthur cut him off. He blocked the boy's path, keeping his body as a barrier as he tried to get around him. The boy dove through his legs and got up and scampered off once more.

"Stop, ya little thief!"

As he came around the corner, huffing, the boy was finally caught. Like a little wild animal, he fought Hosea's hold. Hosea tried to calm the boy down. Arthur, jaw clenched, came over and snatched his satchel back. But just as he was about to grab his hat, the boy kicked Hosea in the groin. Hosea yelped, letting the boy go and he escaped.

"Ugh, so much for a polite introduction," Hosea groaned, holding himself.

Arthur, still annoyed, couldn't help but to laugh at the sight. "He got ya too, huh? Little shit was as slippery as the devil." Then Arthur realized the small thief still had his hat. "He got my goddam hat!"

Hosea grabbed him as he started after the boy once more. "Forget it, Arthur. We'll find him. Don't worry."

The boy was probably long gone anyway.

Dutch arrived shortly after. He took in their disheveled appearance, the pained scowl on Hosea's face as he gripped his crotch and Arthur's huffing breaths as he dusted himself off, mumbling a whole range of curses. Arthur reached into his satchel to make sure his journal was still intact. He was relieved to see it was.

Dutch raised his eyebrows. "What the hell did I miss?"

"You don't want to know," Hosea said, finally standing up straight.

"Got robbed by a goddam kid."

Dutch chuckled, earning him a glare from Arthur. "You mean a little bumpkin got the best of you, Arthur? My boy, come now!"

"Not funny, Dutch. He still has my damn hat. And well, damaged Hosea's tallywags."

Hosea wheezed. "I'm fine."

"Come on, we should head back to camp. Got some planning to do," Dutch said.

"But my hat!"

"We'll get it back, Arthur. We're gonna stick around a few days. We will see that brat again, no doubt," Hosea assured.

Arthur groaned. "Fine."

"I leave you both for a few hours and a child wreaks havoc on both your prides. What ever am I going to do with you two?"

"Easy for you to say. You didn't get kicked where it counts," Hosea huffed.

"Low blow, huh Hosea?"

"Hah, you're funny, dear friend."

Dutch feigned innocence, motioning to himself. "It's not my fault you two provide me opportunities for such jokes."

"If I don't get my hat back, I'm siccing Miss Grimshaw on that little heathen."

Hosea chortled. "Dear god, Arthur. The boy doesn't deserve that much torture."

The three of them laughed.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932513/chapters/39785013

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13143281/1/Oh-Brother

[ot3blogs22]

Advice to My Future Self as a Person and as an OT

I must say, this is quite an interesting topic

And maybe exactly what I needed at the moment, this year has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but I’m grateful for all of it. Lessons have been gained. I gained a deeper understanding of my qualities my strengths, and my weaknesses as a person and as an OT student. I learned how to honestly assess my strengths and my flaws, which has been my biggest tool, as Richard Carlson once said “Reflection is one of the most underrated yet powerful tools for success” and Baltasar Gracian would put it as “Self-reflection is the school of wisdom” And to my dear self, I hope you always keep this in mind and use it in both your personal life and as an OT.

The skills you have acquired over the years will be beneficial not only to your clients but also to yourself, there’s a controversial Zulu proverb saying “Inyanga ayizilaphi” meaning an expert cannot heal themselves, which I continue to contend because you my dear have done it time and again, once again, just keep in mind, those skills will benefit not only your clients but also yourself. In this sense, the KAWA model has been extremely helpful thus far, so to my future self, keep using it. It is highly valuable in both practice and personal life. Using the KAWA model in which human life is symbolized by a metaphor of a river with various surrounding elements (Lim & Iwama, 2006), you were able to reflect, learn and grow as a person and as an OT student. The Kawa model has helped you understand your clients and their environment to plan and develop intervention plans that are client-cantered not only that, but it has provided your clients with insight into their condition, environment, strengths/personal assets, and how these can be manipulated to help them move forward. I hope you never lose sight of how valuable it can be.

Dear Self, now that we have a better grasp of our strengths and shortcomings, I hope you will be kind to yourself as you work to strengthen yourself and overcome your flaws, as you practice your handling skills, and as you grow confidence in your abilities as a student therapist. Even though the world hasn't always been fair, may you always stand up for what's right, what's true, and what's fair.

Finally, I beg you to never lose sight of who you truly are as a person and as a future occupational therapist because storms always come that disrupt your entire being. You have so far been able to stay anchored in who you are with the help of poems and values clarity, Morrice, 1983 shows that poems encourage self-reflection and exploration, increasing self-awareness and assist individuals in making sense of their world. I urge you to continue to use these techniques in both your personal and professional life.

Note To Self: You are the classical Stonehenge so simple yet so complex, covered in multiple layers that can only be uncovered by patience.

References

Iwama, K. H. L. M. K. (2011). The Kawa (river) model. Foundations for Practice in Occupational Therapy-E-BOOK, 117.Chicago

Morrice, J. K. W. (1983). Poetry as therapy. British journal of medical psychology, 56(4), 367-370.Chicago

[theweddingpartytour]

THE WEDDING PARTY TOUR / SUMMER 2022

THE WEDDING PARTY TOUR / SUMMER 2022

June 1st PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND - Red Ink 

June 5th HOT SPRINGS, NORTH CAROLINA - Artisun Gallery & Cafe

June 7th MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE - Lamplighter Lounge

June 9th NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA - Neutral Ground

June 11th AUSTIN, TEXAS - Radio Coffee & Beer 

June 13th LAS CRUCES, NEW MEXICO - CAV Gallery

June 16th OJAI, CALIFORNIA - Bart’s Books

June 17th LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA -  Kibitz Room at Canters Deli

June 21st OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA - The Golden Bull

June 25th RAPID CITY, SOUTH DAKOTA - The Cave Collective

June 29th MINNEAPOLIS, MN - Twin Spirits Distillery

July 1st CHICAGO, IL - The Humboldt Jungle

July 5th BROOKLYN, NEW YORK - July 5th BROOKLYN, NEW YORK - Pete’s Candy Store

MORE DATES TBA!

[thedogsled]

Are you forgetting that Ray Vecchio and Fraser rode on a dogsled in the pilot of Due South? Don't you like Ray Vecchio at all?

Ahaha. Who wouldn’t love Ray Vecchio, though? Smarmy charm, great car(s), Italian shoes… I mean that’s the joy of due South, really, bookending the show with dogsled rides, and both of them such important partnerships. Incidentally none other than Wolverine himself also drives a green ‘71 Buick Riviera when he goes back in time. I’m sure somewhere Ray V’s feeling pretty badass about it right now. 

I’ve written fic from his perspective in the past, but by far my favorite due South fic of all is the Shadow of the Bookman by the amazing Butterfly Ghost.

It’s hard not to love our original Ray. It’s why when recommending the show I just can’t help but beg people to watch from the beginning. I know some people rec it from season 3, but there’s some real classics in 1 and 2. Ray Vecchio is superb, and the very best Ray to have in your corner. 

I can’t imagine DS without “They Eat Horses, Don’t They?”, which is one of my favorites just for Fraser cantering down an empty “Chicago” street. As dorky as “Chicago Holiday” is, it has the BDSM club in it, and the scenes there crack me up every time. “You Must Remember This” is a superb Ray Vecchio episode, and “The Man Who Knew Too Little” of course is a classic. When they blow up the Buick! My god, I still cringe every time. “Some Like it Red” of course, because I will never not enjoy Ray and Fraser dancing. “North” is just wonderful - and again, great Ray ep, as is “Vault” - “One Good Man” *-* More of a Fraser ep, sure, but Ray is also really strong in it. “Starman” - which has the amazing Amanda Tapping guest starring in it as well - but I will never be over Ray and Ian bickering with each other. And who can forget, one of my favorite 43 minutes of TV ever: “All the Kings Horses” - which automatically means “Red White or Blue” has to be up there too. 

God I just love them. I need to go rewatch all these episodes… Thanks for that, anon.

I will ride forever, baby.and a big, important, precious part of that ride for me is Ray V. The original. The irreplaceable.

[mycelebritylifeus]

Rapper Tray Savage Dies at 26

Rapper Tray Savage Dies at 26

Chief Keef’s record label signee, Tray Savage, died on Friday (June 19), Billboard can confirm. He was 26 years old.

According to TMZ, who first reported the news, Tray (born Kentray Young) was shot and killed while driving around on the South Side of Chicago. He was rushed to the University of Chicago Medical Canter, where he was later pronounced dead.

“The entire Chief Glo Gang Family are…

[itsonlyrocknrolliluvit]

... MAZEL TOV!... @haimtheband ..INSTAS!..music fans !.. how COOL is this!.. 👀.... HAIM just announced this ⬇️.. https://HAIM.lnk.to/delitour Our first show ever was at canters deli in 2000 so we decided we want to play shows at different delis across America to celebrate our new record. We’ve never done anything like this before so let’s all get together and eat some matzo ball soup and we’ll play you some songs live. Maybe some new ones?? East coast dates: New York-3/10 Washington DC -3/11 Chicago 3/13 See you there brought to you by @americanexpress #americanexpress @lorimajewski @siriusxmvolume @columbiarecords @sonymusic @afigman ...and after their show grab a pastrami on rye 🥪..and a sour pickle... Oh and since it’s #Purim some hamentashen!... I’ve entered for tickets 🎫... the NYC gig is tmrw ..3-10-2020!..😁👍🏻👏🏻🤘🏻... https://www.instagram.com/p/B9hyRPhHC11/?igshid=p07yrgjv1pfu

[angiabar]

The Monday Ride

It happened so incredibly fast.

The last thing I remember was Jen asking me, “Are you ready, Anne?” I felt her horse Skippy brush past me on my left, then experienced some fumbling with the reins before the forceful impact and searing pain.

I was thrown violently from my horse, Friendly, and landed facedown in the grass.

Denis, Jen and I often tacked up, crossed the bridge and rode the trails along the Ramapo Reservation. Denis, wearing his signature cowboy hat, sat tall atop speedy Dusty. Jen rode mercurial Skippy and I chose the solid, slow Friendly.

That Monday we took a long, scenic ride, crossing the river twice in the shallows before heading back along a grassy expanse, where Denis and Dusty took off on a canter. Jen and Skippy had started to follow.

As I lay facedown on the grass I conducted a quick mental checklist before trying to sit up. What just happened? Was I able to sit up? Where were the others?

As I gingerly pushed myself up on my hands I felt a rush of warmth and saw bright crimson blood drop in measured splats onto the grass between my fingers. I blinked hard, took a deep breath and looked up.

No one.

I hoarsely cried, “help” but it seemed like minutes passed before I spotted Denis and Dusty racing around the tall grass and toward me.

Questions were asked in hushed voices, people arrived and concerned faces stared down at me where I still sat in the grass. I was very still, as it hurt to lift my head. My neck and shoulders felt heavy and stiff. Someone pressed a soft cloth against my nose, another tightly squeezed my hand.

More questions: What’s your name? Where are you? What day is it?

I winced as the man in the navy uniform situated my head into a neck collar and helped me roll onto a stretcher.

The ambulance ride was bumpy and I heard the siren wail is we inched along through traffic that reluctantly parted for us to pass.

I heard John, the EMT riding with me, talking softly but firmly on my cell phone to my husband, who had just landed in Chicago several hours earlier for a business meeting, telling him that my vital signs were stable but I was wearing cervical collar and would be examined by a neurologist.

At the trauma center my gurney was parked in the hallway, alongside several other patients awaiting triage assessment. Next to me was a young teen, curled into the fetal position, her long dirty-blonde hair cascading across her pillow. She seemed asleep.

To my right was a rail thin, 30-something male writhing and moaning loudly, repeatedly asking for something; but his requests were garbled and unintelligible. I overheard the nurses mention that he was here again to dry out.

A young doctor hurriedly asked me some basic questions about my pain level, and then I was wheeled to another section of the ER. My gurney came to a stop alongside the nurse’s station, and next to two other patients. This is where I remained for the next 20 hours, with the exception of being taken for x-rays, a CT scan and an MRI at 3:15 a.m.

As the hours passed the delicate skin underneath my eyes started to blacken, angry purple-magenta bruises spreading under both eyes and across my right eyelid. The bridge of my nose swelled and seemed to widen the space between my eyes. I was propped on my gurney at an awkward angle, not quite sitting up but not lying down, and trying to drink from a straw was incredibly challenging. I couldn’t bring the cup close enough to my mouth, as it was blocked by the cervical collar, which I wore until I signed my discharge papers handed to me by the neurologist on call.

People - visitors, patients, nurses - eyed me with sympathy and curiosity, and some asked if I had been in a car accident. When I told them I had been thrown from a horse their eyes widened and and the questions came faster: Do you always ride? Was the horse galloping? Were you wearing a helmet? 

I became a minor celebrity and overheard more than once during my stay, That poor woman was thrown from her horse. In some twisted way I found consolation in this attention, thinking, if I had to look like this, at least I was doing something cool.

I was incredibly lucky. I only fractured my nose in three places but had avoided more serious injuries including a concussion or paralysis.

But I did gain a subject about which to write a blog entry. Adversity can be difficult to express, but can be cathartic if articulated for a specific purpose.