#carolina rosenthal

[ottersinhats]

Violet Rowena Calloway (nee Rosenthal)

1904-1926

Violet was one of my favorite sims, and the 1910s heir. She was a brave nurse during The Great War and went on to be a midwife once the war ended. She married Roger Calloway in 1915 and nursed him back to health after a tragic accident during the war. Violet had twins in 1916 who were the light of her life. She enjoyed gardening and caring for her cats, chickens, and her sheep Ethel.

Violet is survived by her two children, Elodie and Charlie, her sister Sadie, 6 grandchildren , and many loving nieces and newphews.

She is preceded in death by her dear husband, Roger, her parents Everett and Rowena, and sisters Hazel and Carolina.

[itssimplythesims]

Ryan O'Neil

37 ･ Male (He/Him) ･ Gemini ･ Moodboard

Ryan O'Neil grew up an only child in a small suburban home a block from the beach in South Carolina. His mother, Hailey, sold handmade shell jewelry at Myrtle Beach's boardwalk, while his father, Aaron, lived on the road as a sports news anchor trying to make a name for himself. Watching his parents struggle to make ends meet, Ryan worked several jobs in high school, from busboy to oyster shucker to surfing instructor. His junior year, Ryan's father let him tag along to the local fairgrounds where he was covering a major show jumping competition. From the moment Ryan saw the first horse soar over a fence, the boy knew he wanted in–in on the money, in on the parties, in on the fame...

Not a year later, industry veteran, Ana Rosenthal, took him under her wing. Coupled with his raw talent and ambition, Ryan went on to rise up the ranks to the international level. He raked in the money, partied from here to Europe, and ate up the fame, until everything came to a screeching halt with a career-altering accident that left him and his horse hospitalized, right before they were set to enter the 2008 Rio Olympics. Unable to find his footing again, Ryan retired to coaching and opened up his own riding school in Twinbrook, Georgia. Now, nearly a decade later, the man has been handed a second shot at an old dream with a promising horse that could take him all the way to the top. But not all that glitters is gold. As Ryan makes his return to the world of show jumping, he faces old foes, demanding investors, and a new reality–one where he, the man who came from nothing, now has nothing else to lose.

[wexhappyxfew]

very thought of you

(a/n): judy rybinski, my sweet sunshine child, you deserve the very best for all the emotion you hold in and try to hide. enjoy your dance with rosie rosenthal girl <3333

She found that nights after missions, the flying club was usually left pretty quiet.

Of course, there was soft jazz from the corner, a few people sat around talking quietly with one another, sharing drinks, or tired conversation, but it was never alive with life like it had been in the summer - when people had still been fairly filled with something more than life.

Judy sat at the table her and Bessie had occupied a few times when people would be on the dance floor, twisting and twirling one another like it was the night of their lives. She always would watch - the airmen with a lady from town or a nurse or a Clubmobile girl, the smiles on their faces, their giggles, the whispering and exchanging of jokes or conversation there in a tightly-held embrace.

She always wondered what that would be like - wrapped in the arms of someone, to dance with them, gaze into their eyes, and just for once, have it just be the two of them. Whoever that other person may be.

A few of the girls hadn't bothered to come tonight - some of the recent happenings were seemingly getting to everyone. With the fresh losses of Major Cleven, Major Egan, Brady, DeMarco, their crews and just about every other notable face they'd flown in here with, some people were doing better than others. Some just wanted to be left alone, others came to have a drink, make conversation, some sat and read or smoked or stared at the sky.

Judy had to get out of the barracks and be in some fresher air with some of the men - Dougie usually was always a good face to have around, Ev Blakely a comforting shoulder. Crosby was usually around, but he wasn't taking Bubbles' loss too well either. They seemed to all be picking up the pieces of what was lost. And it wasn't going entirely too well.

Judy sat with a Coca-Cola, straying a bit from the idea of a beer - she just couldn't enjoy the thought of a beer as she sat alone at a table, staring out towards an empty dance floor. The idea was almost haunting - enjoy beer, while Major Cleven and Major Egan were MIA or dead? The thought was almost too much.

So, she sat alone with her Coca-Cola and enjoyed the quiet hum of the music and the half-written letter to her siblings and parents back home in North Carolina and was content with that for the minute.

Leaning her head on her upbent arm against the table, she glanced towards the entrance and was surprised to see Lieutenant Rosenthal coming through the doorway, removing his peak cap, a small smile on his face, tired eyes wandering the group, before moving towards the bar. His fort had taken some pretty hard hits after the mission today - the first back from R&R, which had been quite enjoyable as it was just his crew and Silver Bullets. The few conversations they'd had there hadn't been much. Just in passing, or he'd offer her a wave if he was on the grounds. But he'd been in another world it seemed, his head in the sky, body on the ground.

And so now, seeing him after all their first missions back, she would've thought he'd be out with his fort or asleep.

Seeing him here, she smiled a bit.

Judy glanced back to the empty dance floor, a soft crooning Ella Fitzgerald song above her as she let the music take her a bit.

"I was beginning to wonder if any of the Silver Bullets were going to make it out tonight," she heard a voice say and she slowly glanced upward to find Lieutenant Rosenthal there, a Coca-Cola in his own hand and a smile on his face, "mind if I join you?" Judy froze for a moment, her brain rewiring it felt, before she nodded and sat up a bit.

"Of course, sir." she said, "Please." She nodded to the other seat at the table and he sent her a quiet gaze, before settling down in the chair and turning his head her way.

"You doing okay?" he asked her, "I've been meaning to check in on Annie, but….." Judy watched him for a moment, his comforting eyes something that drew her in that very instance and it made her feel like she could say anything in her mind, right to him and he'd understand.

"I'm okay," Judy said quietly, "just….had to take time out of the barracks. Lieutenant Bradshaw's…..she's….." Judy's words trailed off in a pathetic attempt to cover up what Annie was really feeling. The dark circles under her eyes, the sleepless nights, the night-wandering, the mornings they'd find Annie outside, sat on the step, out-cold from exhaustion.

"It's okay," Rosenthal said, "I'll talk to her later. I know people aren't feeling the best in the past few weeks. What about you?" Judy looked to him and offered an impromptu smile his way.

"Alright, sir." Judy said, and then nodded, "Best I can. I guess you could say, I'm trying to keep going, keep smiling….for the others." Rosenthal smiled and lightly tilted his head toward her.

"I think that'll be good for everyone in the long run," he told her, but then leaned against the table and lowered his voice, "but, truly, you don't have to do that for me." Judy stared at him, her heart pounding, her emotion building somewhere in her head, behind her eyes and she saw that look on his face and knew that things were coming to a head.

"You okay?" he asked her quietly, and that's when her eyes welled with tears.

There was something about people like Major Cleven, Major Egan, Captain Faulkner, Lieutenant Bradshaw and now…Lieutenant Rosenthal. They were people Judy trusted with her life, because they were all some of the best leaders the 100th would ever see in her mind. And they were people that cared about their group, their men, their fort, people that wanted the best and would lead the best they could for the bettering of the group.

And usually, they could manage to get Judy's water-works going.

Because they saw her in a way others didn't. They cared. She put up her walls, put on the smile, and continued like that. Day in and day out. And without fail, those walls would get battered and bruised, and she'd be standing behind it, barely keeping it up, tears in her eyes, limbs shaking. And that's how she was right now - like Lieutenant Rosenthal could see right through to her.

Judy watched him with tears in her eyes. Then, she watched his hand slowly reach forward and grasp one of her own, lazily laid upon the table, his larger hand encasing her own in a warm, consoling embrace. She sniffled and watched through blurred eyes as his thumb gently brushed against her rough skin - between the gloves and the machinery in the ball turret, her hands had seemingly taken the brunt of it all.

Yet, his touch was present and there and grounding her in a way in that very moment that nothing else seemed to be. She wished she was stronger than this sometimes. But maybe she'd been strong for too long. Something in her head told her this didn't mean anything - his touch, him looking at her like that - but then the tiny voice in her head said something else, something deeper. That it meant everything.

"Here," he said, reaching into his pocket and producing a handkerchief.

"Thank you, sir," she said, taking it, through a rather tearful admission of thanks and he smiled at her and grasped her hand a bit tighter.

"No need to thank me," he said, "and….it's just Robert…or Rosie. You don't need to call me sir." She stared at him, and then managed a slight smile and nodded. She wiped at her eyes and then let out a weak sigh and looked to him. He watched her tentatively as she tightly grasped the handkerchief, and stared at their hands there on the table.

It was quiet for a few moments, him staring at her, Judy looking at their hands, a quiet reprieve settled between the two, the two of them letting the other take a moment to just be. 'The Very Thought of You' by Billie Holiday slowly moved through the quiet bubble of noise above them and she glanced towards Rosie who was sat quietly, staring now at their hands, his frame more relaxed, more silent, but still there.

"Hey, Rosie?" she asked him quietly - he looked up at her and offered a small smile.

"What's up?"

"Do you want to dance?" she asked him - it came out quicker than she had wanted, and sounded a bit more like a jumble of words, and she could feel a bit of a flush crawling up her neck. But then Rosie smiled.

"I'd love to," he said, "here." He slowly stood, taking her hand and came around the table, before taking her other hand and pulling her to her feet. For a moment, they watched one another, before he backed towards the open dance floor, Billie Holiday's voice soft and nostalgic over the speakers, as they stood in the center of the floor.

And slowly, Rosie's hands traveled to her waist, his other hand lacing into her own, as he brought her closer to him. Judy looked up into his eyes, his presence so close to her own - God, his aftershave was overwhelming every portion of her being by this point and she wasn't complaining. Judy could hardly get her arm around his neck and instead rested her hand on his arm and then looked up at him.

"I'm sorry for my sweaty hands." she said, the first thought to come to her mind. And Rosie let out a laugh, and shook his head and brought his lips to her ear.

"It's alright," he said quietly, "you ever dance before?" Judy's heart was racing at the sudden closeness and let out a shaky breath. She turned her head the slightest bit to his ear and licked her lips.

"Not like this." she whispered back. Rosie laughed, his warm breath on her shoulder as he slowly swayed them back and forth, taking the lead just as she would've wanted. This was unfamiliar territory to her, every bit of this. But it felt comfortable to be in his embrace, having his touch and presence so close to her own.

"Just follow my lead." he said quietly to her. She was so much shorter than him, it was almost comical - a ball-turret gunner and a pilot who was nearly a full head or two taller than her - she could barely keep on her tip-toes. But, he guided her softly in the middle of the floor, as the song continued, the two of them wrapped in each other's warmth there in the middle of the floor.

And as the song came to a close, Judy found her arms wrapping around his center, her chest pressed in his chest, her head turned into him, listening to the soft thrum of his heart, the gentle thump-thump-thump the comfort that kept her grounded there right now. His hand found its way to her back, the other lingering between her shoulder and the lower portion of her head.

She felt so comfortable curled against him, like she were able to hide from the world for a bit in the middle of this war. Smelling his cologne, feeling his hands holding her there against him, listening to his heart deep within his chest.

When the song had finished, and it melted into a Frank Sinatra piece - something Marianne would've appreciated - she found herself tightly bound in his embrace, not wanting to let go of this block of comfort she was now holding onto so tightly. And he seemed far from letting go, rubbing his hand up and down her back, pulling a few strands of her loose hair from her braids from the right side of her face and circling a thumb on the upper portion of her shoulder.

They stood there for a few moments, Judy simply soaking in this feeling - him standing there, her curled against him. Her eyes welled with tears when she seemed to come to it - this feeling. Being here with him. Rosie letting her just be like this. She was so tired, drained and worn down - everything about her had been exhausted to an extent where she was dumb. And Rosie's warmth seemed to be melting every bit of that about her.

"Thank you." Judy whispered just quietly enough for Rosie to hear her, "Thank you so much." Rosie chuckled, the soft rumble in his chest, making his heartbeat speed up a bit, which made her smile as he rubbed her back a bit more comfortingly than he had previously. She could tell he was smiling when he spoke.

"Didn't know you were a Billie Holiday fan." he said quietly, "I should've asked what you liked." Judy laughed slightly, blinking away some of the tears and leaned back a bit to look up at him and was met with his fully, rosy-cheeked face watching her, his eyes exuding nothing but what felt like…..damn-near love in her own eyes as he watched her.

"Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Doris Day…." she said quietly, "Ma's a big fan of them. What about you, though - heard you were an Artie Shaw type of guy - big band. Makes sense." Rosie let out a laugh that was music to her ears and nodded.

"Big Artie Shaw fan," he said, "guess stuff gets around." Judy laughed and nodded.

"Marianne knows a whole lot more than we credit her for." Judy said and Rosie smiled at her, this silent unspoken message between them saying a whole lot more than whatever words could bargain for - finding comfort in someone else who was going through this hellish war just like you were. It was something that you carried closer to you more than anything else.

Judy smiled up at him, and the quiet look on his face was something you couldn't replicate, this intense focus simply on her, watching her every move, concealing yet telling all at once. Her cheeks felt like they were completely flaming now as he watched her, but she couldn't look away from his gaze.

But then Judy, out of the pureness of her heart, stood to her tip-toes and pulled him into a hug, where his arms enveloped her and they held each other there for a moment in time. A hug meant a thousand words more than anything else in that moment.

[blakelysco-pilot]

P.S. I Love You

From the Love Letter Series

Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

As time moves on around them during the course of the war, Rosie & Jo learn the best thing they can be, is there for each other. While that may mean different things, their favorite thing to be, is in love with each other.

Read part 4 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist

She had been home alone when the mail arrived. It was the first week in February, and her parents had taken the train down to the Carolina’s so her mother could visit with her sister. Mrs. Harris claimed that the cold weather wasn’t good for her as she got older, and so they had packed their bags and escaped for a few weeks. 

Her mother had insisted; You’ll be fine, you’ve got Jean Crosby to keep you company, and Robert’s mother should you need anything. And Jo knew she was right- she’d been spending so much time with Jean Crosby as of late, the two kindred spirits connected by their boys off fighting the war together, that Jo often found she was sleeping at the Crosby home more than her own home. 

And so, that had left Jo with the house to herself, though not for long. She was headed off to spend a long weekend with Jean, but as she neared the door to make her way, the mail had fallen unceremoniously through the slot and in a heap at her feet. 

“Oh for Christ sake…” she murmured to the empty room, bending to scoop up the stack of envelopes. 

Quickly thumbing through them, she found an electric bill, and a gas note that she made a mental note to pay when she returned home next week. Thinking the rest to be junk, until one slightly yellowed envelope caught her eye towards the back. 

“Robbie…” she grinned. 

Quickly checking that there wasn’t anything else from him in the pile, she dropped them on the kitchen table, and quickly sat down with her prize. 

Her thumb slid gently under the flap at the back, and she was surprised to find three sheets of paper. She worried something might have happened, but reasoned that it had been the holidays, and even though he was so far from her, he must have had some stories of what he got up to with the boys in his unit. 

Though a month late, his new years wishes still felt warm and cozy to her, his handwriting scrawled across the paper giving away that he’d wasted no time in penning that letter after the midnight bells. Christmas cookies baked with rations, and a complaint that Jean Crosby had replaced him, if only temporarily, as the official cookie taste tester. 

“Oh he’s such a baby,” shaking her head with a grin, though no one but her was around to hear the words. “Trouble?! Oh Robert Rosenthal…” 

Letting the first page come to rest on the table, Jo began letting her eyes roam over the rest of his letter. Melancholy, she had already known he would be, but the words he had written felt more than anything like an honest to god love letter. A kiss? She had dreamed it many nights since he shipped out, but now that he was asking her permission, wondering if she too, had spent countless nights dreaming of the same things he was, there was no doubt left in her mind. This was a love letter. Her Robbie wanted a life with her, a home, and a future. To leave Brooklyn, and start their life living in the city with their friends. To begin an adventure she wanted to commence right that moment. If only he were home for it to start. She would count the hours until they could be that way. 

He must have been feeling so homesick, she thought, as she let the third and final page come into view. As her eyes fell on the page, her grasp on it went slack, the page floating to the kitchen table as she read over the words. 

Hi Sweetheart, 

I know this is coming with no context but, I want you to know how much I adore you. I know I’ve said it in different ways, and many ways by now, but, I mean it. Truly, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. And to say it from thousands of miles away, with a war on no less. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to hit me once I’m back home. 

Just know that I’ll always, always, carry your heart with the most careful of hands. I’ll keep you safe, and treasure every moment we have together. Anything you want, it’s yours, Jo. A quiet life together, or a herd of children that jump on the bed on Sunday mornings. I’ll make sure you have it honey. 

Just know, I’m yours for however long you’ll have me, Josephine. I’m hoping for forever, but that’s a question for another day. 

I love you,

Robbie 

“Oh my god…” 

She felt like time was moving slower than it should be when something big happens. It felt like ages to hail a taxi outside her house, and even longer still as the yellow cab rolled on towards the Crosby home. Jo sat in the back, foot tapping anxiously against the floorboard, purse in her lap, the letter on top of her purse. Her hands nervously clutching both. Her suitcase was in the trunk, and as she got closer to her destination, it took all of her willpower not to just throw a few bills up front for the driver, grab her things and run the rest of the way. 

When the car finally came to a stop outside of the Crosby home, Jo quickly paid the driver, gathered her belongings and rushed up the front steps. Knocking on the door, she waited for Jean to answer, and when she took too long for Jo’s liking, the brunette knocked again. 

“Jo! Hi!”

“I think Robbie proposed!” 

The words tumbled from her mouth with nothing to stop them as she stood on one side of the doorway and Jean on the other, eyes wide. 

“What!”

“I think he proposed,” she spoke again. “In his last letter. It just came today, and I don’t know if it’s actually a proposal or not!”

“Okay, well, come inside. Then you can tell me everything.”

Jean stepped aside, and Jo immediately entered the house, placing her suitcase by the side table. Jean took her purse and the letter that still remained with it from her hands, so that Jo could remove her gloves and shrug out of her coat. She watched as Jo took a deep breath, steeling herself before taking her purse and the envelope back, her thumb idly moving back and forth over one of the corners. 

“Come on, I was going to make tea but I think you need something stronger.”

“Jean, it’s the middle of the day!”

“And you’re engaged,” She began walking towards the living room. “Or, at least we think you are.”

“It’s still the middle of the day!” Jo knew that she wasn’t going to win the argument, and resigned herself to the couch while Jean puttered around the living room. 

“What’s that expression…” Jean giggled. “Bubbles used to say it all the time. Every hour is Happy Hour?”

“Well, he also left your husband with no quarters or boots after a weekend pass, so, no offense to Bubbles but I’ll get my advice elsewhere.” 

“I don’t think Bing has quite gotten over the loss of his boots.” Jean sighed, her expression a mix of sadness and nostalgia for Bubbles. It was clear that her husband wasn’t the only one who missed him. 

Righting herself, she moved towards the liquor cabinet to retrieve two glasses, and all the requirements for a martini. Jo looked on as Jean quickly pulled together two cocktails, before joining her on the sofa, handing her one of the glasses. 

“Now, tell me everything.”

Jo, mid sip, simply handed over the envelope with Rosie’s latest letter, eyebrows raised as she motioned for Jean to open it. 

“The third page,” She clarified. “Read that, and tell me what you think.”

Jean’s wide eyes swept over the page. Once, twice and then a third time, before placing the paper between them, and looking at Jo with a serious expression. She was silent for a minute, then took a long sip of her own drink before finally saying something. 

“Asking your sweetheart for forever is typically proposal material. Speaking from experience.”

“That’s the first time he’s told me he loves me.”

“The first time ever?”

“We say it in different, sometimes indirect, ways but, neither of us have actually come outright with the words before.”

“Josephine!”

“Looks like he beat me to the punch…”

“I’ll say!” 

“A house together, kids? I just… am I supposed to feel overwhelmed?”

“I’d be more worried if you weren’t!”

“But I don’t…” Jo looked over at her friend, reaching to place the glass she had been holding on the coffee table. “I don’t feel overwhelmed.”

“No?”

“I feel like I want him to come home right now so we can get started on forever. I feel like I’m sitting in limbo waiting for him. Waiting for the rest of my life to start.” 

“So why are you telling me all of this!”

“Well there’s a war on. I’m here and he’s over there!”

“And…?”

“You’re my best friend. Our boys are best friends, no one understands this any better.”

“I thought Rosie was your best friend.”

“He’s the love of my life. It’s different.”

“Well, please pour your heart out to him in your next letter,” Jean placed a hand on Jo’s arm, her smile warm as she watched her best friend piece together in her mind, just what her future may look like. It was the same thing she did when she thought of Harry. “He should know how you feel about him.”

“Well, you might need to make me another martini if I’m going to do that.” 

“Consider it done,” Jean winked. “Don’t worry. A little liquid courage and you’ll be telling him how many kids you want and what color to paint the living room.”

It was hours later that Jo found herself in the spare bedroom of Jean Crosby’s. The bedside lamp lit, illuminating the cozy bedroom with just enough light that she could see the paper in her lap as she sat up in bed. Propped up against the headboard, the blank sheet of paper in her lap, she rolled the words around in her head over and over. The weight of them is like a barbell; if she picked them up the wrong way, or didn’t balance it properly, she’d end up getting crushed. The idea of letting the wrong words or a poorly timed thought ruin things, with thousands of miles between them was a thought she couldn’t bear. It settled in her stomach heavy, like lead, as she sat there and stared at the empty page, practically willing the words to write themselves. 

This was something she needed to face on her own; her future, with the man that she loved. She had asked Jean for advice, and listened with an open mind and honest ear. Her friend was right- she needed to tell him exactly how she felt. 

“This would be a lot easier if you were home, Robbie…” She murmured to the empty room. 

February 1944

My Darling Robbie, 

Your warm New Year’s wishes reached New York a month later, but the sentiment remained I can promise you. The mail is too slow these days for someone as impatient as me. I did not paint the town red, and sadly there was no dancing, because you’re not here, my love, and I wouldn’t grant a dance to another. I did spend the evening with Jean. The pair of us cooked a nice dinner and sat by the radio until the bells. Did you know she makes a hell of a martini? You may have some competition when you come home! I’m glad you and the boys were able to spend something of a quaint holiday in the Officers Club. 

That was sweet of the Red Cross girls to bake for all of you! Don’t be such a baby about Jean taking over as the taste tester this year, you’ll have your coveted spot back as soon as you’re home. And you had best be home by next Christmas. I don’t think my heart could take another one with you so far away. 

My love, I promise that if you had been home, you could have had as many kisses as you wanted. I could never deny you anything, least of all, something that I desire just as much as you. I will save all of my kisses for you, until you return and can take them for yourself. 

You’re in my dreams every night, Robbie, and in those dreams it’s always you and I. Together, pressed cheek to cheek as we wake on a lazy Sunday morning, fighting the blurry edges of sleep as we hold each other impossibly close. One day that dream will come true, and we won’t have to wish for it on paper. It’ll be me and you, and the life we built. I guess those burnt eggs are alright, so long as you keep your promise and spin me around the kitchen. 

I did not think it was possible to miss anyone so much, but then you got on that train and you took my heart with you. Sweetheart, I know you are caring for it while fighting, but please, bring it back with you. I couldn’t bear the thought of it with anyone else. You may believe you took too long to say what feelings you’ve held close for so long, but then I would be equally as guilty for doing the same. Please know that I miss you terribly, my darling, and I long to be with you. 

In case I wasn’t clear, I love you too, Robbie. I always have, and I will for the rest of my days. Please, finish the job and come home to me so that we can start on our forever- you don’t have to ask any other way, it’s yours. 

All of my love, today, tomorrow & forever,

Your Jo

Jo let the pen fall from her grasp, and without thinking, jumped up from the bed to rummage through her makeup. She quickly applied a thin coat of lipstick, before bringing the paper up to her face, and pressing her lips just below her signature. Pulling back fully satisfied, she spritzed her perfume lightly to the paper before holding the letter close to her chest. The weight of his ask, and her words, fully settled into the place in her heart that had been vacant since he departed. 

It wasn’t until the first tear fell that she realized she had been crying; scolding herself for getting stains on the paper she was holding close, she quickly folded it up and placed it inside the waiting envelope. Tomorrow, she would address it to Rosie, and say a little prayer that the mail would speed up a bit. Weeks between letters had bordered on agonizing; anything could happen in that time, and Jo was impatient as it was. She hated the extra wait time. With one final glance to the letter resting on the nightstand, she slid underneath the covers, fully intent on sleeping, but found herself unable to rest. She wondered what Rosie was doing, was he well, and was he safe on base with Harry Crosby? Were they keeping each other company the way her and Jean so often did? How close was he to finishing the job, and was the crew alright as well. She let the thoughts turn over and over, like flipping a coin, before she fell into a restless sleep of pieced together dreams. Dreams of her and Rosie. Of a cozy home, Artie Shaw on the record player and children with his bright blue eyes jumping on their bed to wake them. 

————————-

“Rosie!”

Stopping in his tracks, he spotted Everett Blakely and his Red Cross sweetheart, Val, heading his way. 

“Blakely,” he nodded at the man before tipping his hat at his companion. “Valencia.”

“Rosenthal, you’d better stop with the Valencia nonsense. You know my name, use it!”

“You’ve got a gorgeous name…”  Blakely grinned at her, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

“Oh knock it off…” She scolded him. 

Rosie watched the pair bicker, the same way he would often bicker with Jo. A sense of nostalgia and longing he often found plaguing his days as he counted down to the coveted 25. Shaking the thoughts from his head for a moment, he focused on the pair in front of him. 

“You guys need something?”

Val nodded, reaching into her pocket and pulling out an envelope, handing it over to him. 

“Mail call.” She grinned. 

“Ah, thank you!”

“I was going to have Ev drop it on your bed but, Dougie’s in there… doing lord knows what.”

“Thanks Val,” Rosie beamed, seeing Jo’s familiar cursive scrawled across the envelope. “See you guys later…”

“Happy reading!”

Rosie barely spared them a wave as he headed for the Officers hut to grab his bike, and head over to the handstand, where he’d read the words from Jo under the shade of The Riveters wing. 

“Soon, Jo… I’ll be home soon, sweet girl…” 

Read part 6 Here

There you have it, friends! Did you see that coming? Make sure to follow along with Blakely & Val in their series: Beat Me, Daddy, Eight to The Bar.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

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[eretzyisrael]

by Amy Rosenthal

Jewish faculty learned in early 2022 that additional problematic publications were planned, such as Invited to Witness Solidarity Tourism across Occupied Palestine and a Detours: A Decolonial Guide to Palestine, both of which ignore Jewish presence and relationship to Israel. The faculty members requested a meeting with the DUP director, to include Kornbluth. She did not show.

Many believed over the years that since Kornbluth is Jewish, she would support our community — but they were wrong.

In 2019, Duke and the University of North Carolina hosted a conference on Gaza that was rife with antisemitism. A civil rights complaint was filed, requiring Duke to address its antisemitism problem.

Kornbluth was silent.

Also in 2019, Duke’s Students for Justice in Palestine chapter held its Israeli Apartheid Week. Speakers included local students who visited leaders of the terrorist group. the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP). Speakers called Israel a “white supremacist nation” and invited students to sign up for more Eyewitness Palestine trips.

Kornbluth was silent.

In November 2021, approval of a new Students Supporting Israel (SSI) chapter was vetoed by the Duke Student Government (DSG), when an SSI member dared to push back on the false “settler colonial” narrative about Israel. SSI was eventually reinstated, but only after the DSG was called out for their discriminatory behavior. Price and Kornbluth ignored the plight of Jewish students and Duke’s role in enabling antisemitism, saying that DSG’s actions are “independent of, and not determined by or sanctioned by the University.”

[birindale]

Princess of Power Secrets Revealed

Another interview of the late Jon Seisa by he-man.org user Tallstar, still available to read on the forums! Tallstar also did a series about Jon’s creation of the Star Sisters, which you can read in full in my newly minted Tallstar Interviews tag. Everyone say thank you, Tallstar.

The below is an annotated version of the post, because I can’t help myself, including a reproduction of a since-deleted bio of Kitty Black-Perkins by the South Carolina African American History Calendar. Why cite a calendar? Hell if I know, but I’ll be damned if I don’t preserve it. Here we go:

For those of you who have been following my series of historical articles on Mattel's '87 Star Sisters, the trio of unproduced figures for Princess of Power (along with their pet, Glory Bird), you will recall that Jon Seisa was brought on to Mattel Toys in October of 1985 to conceptualize this extension line, a line which ultimately never got off the ground due to fact that toy shelves were bogged down with older product that wasn't selling fast enough, and thus resulted in low orders from retailers. Since tracking down Jon in early March of this year, he has become an invaluable resource for information on the vintage Princess of Power toy line. He has acted as a middle-man of sorts between myself and former employees who pre-dated his arrival at Mattel Toys. Back in late March, Jon was awesome enough to offer to reconnect with his former boss, Chris McAdam, the Design Manager for the whole of Princess of Power, for additional details.  At the time, she was just getting back from Hong Kong and extremely busy with her VP job, but took some time out of her schedule to pass along some interesting tidbits of information and history on the evolution of the brand to Jon, for myself and other fans.  However, by the time Jon heard back from Chris McAdam, he had gotten tied up with design jobs and couldn't relay the information to me until more recently. Before passing on Jon's message, I would like to preface (as I did in previous articles) that some of the information contained therein could potentially change and/or be clarified as I (hopefully) start to hear back from some of the employees mentioned in it. PRINCESS OF POWER SECRETS REVEALED - PART 1     "Chris McAdam relayed to me that the original Princess of Power She-Ra was first developed not in her group in Girls' Toys (before I got there in 1985) but in the NBC Group (New Business Concepts), a special separate blue sky design team headed by Susannah Rosenthal, at the time, and located in an isolated location.[[Footnote 1]]  It was the doll designer Justine Dantzer who created She-Ra.  Justine is one of the 3 Dantzer sisters who are all known doll/toy designers in the industry.  I knew Justine, briefly through a mutual friend, but more so her sister Elonne; I didn’t know Marlene Dantzer, personally, though saw all of them at parties and industry functions. Originally, Justine proposed the idea of a female superhero named She-Ra as an antithesis to He-Man for the Masters of the Universe product line; because her observation was that the line lacked a female character, [[note: They only had Teela, and as Justine Dantzer’s first designs were for a Teela sister, it’s not out of the question but slightly dubious with this phrasing]] and thus this would add an interesting twist.  The aesthetical look and play accessories, and even a castle were created and constructed for She-Ra for Justine’s initial prototype prelim creation and presentation.  It had a more masculine and rugged quality to it (than the later Princess of Power line) due to its original placement in boys toys. As strategies formed and coalesced, the idea emerged to place it in Girls Toys to empower girls. [[note: according to Janice Varney-Hamlin, she’d been attempting to launch a fashion/action flanker brand for some time, including by tying it to MotU, and she only succeeded when the Boys’ department’s concept had “no articulation, no hair, no fashion, not attractive at all” and it was summarily handed over to feed the Barbie brand. unclear if that’s true]] Chris McAdam was part of that evolution after it was handed over to the Girl’s Toy Design Group.  The objective was to “feminize” and “soften” the aesthetics for girl play. Chris was able to get the talents of Kitty Black (Perkins) on the project (click HERE [[←that link is broken: see footnote 2]] for biography), who at the time was a new emergent designer in fashion dolls at Mattel (who later became one of the top celebrity designers on Barbie).  Kitty created the clever flashy and sassy action fashions with some sort of transformation feature.  Noreen Porter was used to create the wonderful illustrations of the dolls for their sculpts with more feminine proportions and prettier faces, and also their superhero accessories." Of Noreen Porter, Jon had this to say: "We were fortunate to have in the POP design group a fabulous and highly talented in-house veteran doll designer/illustrator named Noreen Porter who worked on the main POP line... and specifically on the Bubble Carriage, Spinerella, Catra and She-Ra.  Her illustrations where highly technical anatomically correct depictions and were incredible masterpieces (done in pencil with perfect highlights and shadows),  The sculptors could literally use her illustrations to sculpt directly from.  I understand that eventually Noreen went into medical illustration, a perfect field for her, IMHO, due to her meticulous attention to illustrative details." My thoughts: Although I could be wrong, from what I gather, the Crystal Castle playset that was constructed for use in Justine's presentation may have been the same as the version shown in the U-Matic videocassette discovered in the Filmation Archives. (I believe it was Emiliano that posted the ARTICLE some years back.)

[[note: that link will redirect you to the forums while the org is down. here’s the article in question on the wayback machine. however, since that’s from over a decade ago, the U-Matic videos themselves were uploaded in the now-murdered Flash. so those don’t work anymore. I found some screenshots (see below for the prototype Tallstar is talking about) but no footage, yet.]]

This seems to coincide with an old book from 1990 about the toy industry called "TOYLAND The High-Stakes Game of the Toy Industry", where it is stated that the original Crystal Castle included a special bird's-beak entrance that would swoop down and pick the figures up to bring them inside of the castle.  Apparently both little girls and their mothers were uninterested in the mechanical feature when Mattel tested it.  They preferred a "softer, less action-oriented product", so Mattel replaced the action feature with a traditional castle door.  This change reduced the cost of the playset. [[note: Justine Dantzer designed that feature. She’s big into eagles.]] The She-Ra in Justine's presentation [[her Power-Con 2016 panel]] is a bit trickier.  It's obviously not the same as the prototype shown in the U-Matic video, as it doesn't have a "masculine and rugged quality." So, it's possibly a version that predates even the wax sculpt that was discovered on eBay a few years ago, because the aforementioned book also mentions that She-Ra's action figure wasn't well received by little girls until Mattel "pinked it up."

-------------------------------

FOOTNOTES (blockquotes which were too long to justify shoving in the middle of the interview)

[1] From -The Plenitude: Design and Engineering in the era of Ubiquitous Computing, by Rich Gold:

NBC was a small group quite literally at the edge of Mattel. We were housed in an old warehouse several blocks from the main Mattel building. Toy design is money and you can’t allow new ideas escape. They had constructed a tilt-up inside of the tilt-up providing two levels of security.

[...] As Louis Sullivan, famous Chicagoan architect, famously stated, “Form follows function.” [...] Susannah Rosenthal, had a different formulation. She said, “Form follows Fun.”

[2] Kitty Black-Perkins: Chief Designer of Fashions and Doll Concepts for Mattel's Barbie line

Kitty Black-Perkins is an accomplished Chief Designer of Fashions and Doll Concepts for Mattel's highly successful Barbie line. Over the years, Black-Perkins's hard work and fashion genius have contributed to Barbie's 300 million plus fashions. Barbie is marking her forty-third anniversary in 2002. For 26 of those years, Black-Perkins has wowed the world adorning its most popular doll.

A native of Spartanburg, South Carolina, Black-Perkins is one of seven children. She was encouraged to dream big by two loving parents and her two art teachers at Carver High School. Her dream of becoming a commercial artist took flight when her aunt in California invited her to visit for the summer after high school graduation. Black-Perkins embraced Los Angeles. She earned her degree in fashion design from Los Angeles Trade Technical College in 1971, and after that, she was on her way. Her career experience as a fashion designer began with several fashion houses in Los Angeles among them Miss Melinda of California, Debbie Ross, A & O Couture, and many others.

In 1976, Black-Perkins was enticed by a classified ad for a fashion designer for the largest toy company in the world - Mattel. Through Mattel, Black-Perkins was given the opportunity to travel all over the world. One of her many lines is the African-American fashion dolls: Shanni and Friends, introduced in 1991; Fashion Savvy, introduced in 1997, and the Brandy line currently on the market. A special doll, designed by Black-Perkins, was donated to the South Carolina State Museum in May of 2001.

Black-Perkins's creative impact as a top designer has been recognized and pursued by some of the industry's top magazines and newspapers. Ebony, Essence, LA Magazine, Woman's Day, and Sister to Sister are just a sample of those who have followed her career in print. In addition, her reputation of 26 years and design savvy have earned her many honors throughout the industry. Some of these include the distinction of receiving the Chairman's Award, the highest recognition a Mattel employee can receive. She was honored with this in 1985 and 1987. The toy industry also honored her with their highest achievement award, The Doty Award. She was chosen Woman of the Year honoree at the annual "Woman Keeping the Dream Alive" banquet sponsored by the National Council of Negro Women in 1994. More recently, she was inducted into the Black Hall of Fame on July 23, 2001.

Black-Perkins has always made it a priority to invest time and energy back to the community. She has volunteered to be a guest speaker at several Career Day events and has contributed spectacular one-of-a-kind creations to various charitable fund raisers, raising well over $100,000. Black-Perkins says the best part of her job is the satisfaction of seeing her designs completed and knowing that her dolls are making a lot of little girls happy all over the world.

Black-Perkins resides in southern California with her two children. They are her most prized accomplishment and have been a great source of strength and support for her in following her dreams.

[hasanyoneseenmyspoons]

“Chewing, crunching, snorting, sniffing, throat clearing, nose whistling, heavy breathing,” rattles off Dr Zach Rosenthal, who runs the Centre for Misophonia and Emotion Regulation at Duke university in Durham, North Carolina. “These are all relatively ordinary everyday things that people need to do, but in people with misophonia they are experienced as highly aversive.”

That “aversive reaction” can take the form of physical changes such as increased muscle tension or heart rate, or emotional responses such as irritability, shame and anxiety. It brings on a fight, flight or even a freeze response where, according to Gregory, “you get a really strong adrenaline reaction and it tells you that you’re either in danger or you’re being violated”.

[theloniousbach]

A TALE OF TWO WEEKENDS

CYRUS CHESTNUT with Herman Bundy and Kelton Norris, JAZZ ST LOUIS, 10 OCTOBER 2024 via YouTube

CYRUS CHESTNUT with Stacy Dillard, Gerald Cannon, and Chris Beck, SMOKE JAZZ CLUB, 19 OCTOBER 2024, 9 pm

I deeply regret not being able to go to Jazz St Louis to see CYRUS CHESTNUT, one of the very top pianists in my pantheon, as his one of the shows in the season I most looked forward to. Now, that very gig was the one the club streamed, so I got to see the show, just not in the room. I also found solace on the trip to New York to see our son in seeing Bill Charlap with Noriko Ueda at Mezzrow’s where I stream so many sets. I was able to have my carrot cake (the next dessert on my JStL list) and eat it too.

Having these two different related sets, let me see a trajectory in Chestnut’s evolution not even present in a mid-September solo gig also available on YouTube. He is digging into serious composers, in St Louis reprising Satie’s Gymnopedie #1 and then a Chopin Prelude (Op 28, No 20, “modulated up a fourth [from C minor] and given some blues]. At Smoke it was Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. To his credit, he plays the develops the themes of the compositions on their own terms fully and only then equally inventively jams them out. I’ve seen Ted Rosenthal syncopate a Rachmaninoff melody; Adam Birnbaum use Bach Preludes as jumping off places for jazz recompositions; and Dan Tepfer’s Goldberg Variations Variations. But those references are hard to track whereas Chestnut plays European and African American equally well.

Further I think it’s no accident that he follows the European pieces with Ellington. In a Mellotone AND In a Sentimental Mood AND Caravan as the home stretch in St Louis but “only” In a Sentimental Mood at Smoke. Those of course all swung hard in the usual ways, but they too are “above average compositions” to borrow Philip Ewell’s phrase (with some sarcasm in support of the point I think he wanted to make). In a Sentimental Mood was caressed both times; Caravan was a nice showcase for Kelton Norris who there and throughout the night was low key but deadly effective.

The Smoke set opened with four of his own compositions. I was most struck with the relatively new Shanti that benefited from Stacy Dillard’s soprano sax. I didn’t immediately place it as Indian as I heard Moorish/Middle Eastern elements too. Soul Food sounded Benny Golsonish; In Search of a Quiet Place might have been a Stevie Wonder pop song; and Dillard’s tenor evoked the ballad style of John Coltrane (not sheets of sound, that is) on Autumn Song. At the Bistro he played My Friend Bill for, well, his friend Bill Cortland who was in the audience; it was patient and pretty.

Whatever launching pad, Chestnut’s playing has, by turns, Oscar Peterson’s relentless power and intricacy and, equally, a quietly delicate sophistication. There are riches that put him in this top tier.

As he did before at the Bistro he put the piano in the middle of the stage with Norris’ kit behind him and Herman Bundy’s bass at his left shoulder. At Smoke the piano was stage right with bass and sax in the middle and kit to the left. Also here he had gloves on as he made his introductory remarks. Certainly his fingers were limber and warm right out of the gate.

I knew Gerald Cannon and Chris Beck and they made a strong New York rhythm section, smart and crisp. Cannon, like Bundy (out of DC via North Carolina) too, is a strong player who doesn’t get lost when Chestnut roars. Dillard was a welcome addition at Smoke with a dry melodic tone that was more than a condiment but I was there for a main course of Cyrus Chestnut which led to the gluttony of watching these shows on successive nights.

https://www.youtube.com/live/6fBOoyh3tXE?si=Xsb5CG93GxSL664h

[daancienttime]

12 Signs You Suck at Historical Photos: A Journey Through Time

Welcome to "Historical Photos: A Journey Through Time," a captivating blog that takes you on a visual expedition through the annals of history. In this curated collection of images, we explore iconic moments, significant events, and the people who shaped our world. Join us as we uncover the stories behind these extraordinary photographs that have stood the test of time.

We start our journey with a snapshot that forever changed the course of aviation. Witness the historic moment when Orville and Wilbur Wright successfully achieved powered flight in their primitive aircraft at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. This photograph captures their groundbreaking achievement, marking the birth of modern aviation and paving the way for human exploration of the skies.

One of the most recognizable and powerful images in history, this photograph taken by Joe Rosenthal during World War II depicts U.S. Marines raising the American flag on Mount Suribachi. It symbolizes the bravery, sacrifice, and unwavering spirit of those who fought for freedom during the Pacific campaign and remains an enduring symbol of American patriotism.

Experience the euphoria and hope that swept across Berlin and the world as East and West Germans came together to tear down the barrier that had divided their city for nearly three decades. This photograph captures the defining moment when the Berlin Wall crumbled, signifying the end of the Cold War and the dawn of a new era of unity and freedom.

Witness an act of defiance that sparked a civil rights movement. In this image, we see Rosa Parks, a courageous African American woman, refusing to give up her seat to a white passenger on a segregated bus in Montgomery, Alabama. This single act of resistance ignited the Montgomery Bus Boycott and set in motion a wave of change that challenged racial segregation in the United States.

Join us on an extraterrestrial adventure as we revisit the iconic moment when Neil Armstrong took his "giant leap for mankind" and became the first person to set foot on the moon. The photograph of Armstrong's boot print on the lunar surface serves as a testament to human ingenuity, determination, and the boundless possibilities of exploration.

"Historical Photos: A Journey Through Time" has allowed us to relive pivotal moments that shaped our world. These photographs capture the essence of human triumph, resilience, and progress. They serve as reminders of our shared history and the individuals who dared to dream, defy norms, and change the course of humanity. Join us on this incredible journey as we uncover more treasures from the past and celebrate the power of photography to immortalize our collective experiences.

[notjustanyannie]

“Chewing, crunching, snorting, sniffing, throat clearing, nose whistling, heavy breathing,” rattles off Dr Zach Rosenthal, who runs the Centre for Misophonia and Emotion Regulation at Duke university in Durham, North Carolina. “These are all relatively ordinary everyday things that people need to do, but in people with misophonia they are experienced as highly aversive.”

That “aversive reaction” can take the form of physical changes such as increased muscle tension or heart rate, or emotional responses such as irritability, shame and anxiety. It brings on a fight, flight or even a freeze response where, according to Gregory, “you get a really strong adrenaline reaction and it tells you that you’re either in danger or you’re being violated”.

[ottersinhats]

Elodie Charlotte Calloway wed Thomas Quentin Hyde in spring of 1922.

[benis413]

headcanon songs lol

a long ass list of songs i somehow connected to all the young dudes because i was bored during math class

marlene mckinnon: rebel girl - bikini kill

remus lupin: beautiful boy- john lennon

sirius black: rebel rebel - david bowie

remus lupin: snail - cavetown

james potter hogwarts end: alright - supergrass

mary macdonald: kiwi - harry styles

peter pettigrew: little bitchboy who doesn’t deserve a headcanon song

lily evans sixth/seventh year: carolina - harry styles

grant chapman and his various escapades: bang bang bang bang - sohodolls

forest werewolf dude, azkaban era: like real people do - hozier

sirius, remus pov: gold rush - taylor swift

remus x grant azkaban era: sweet creature - harry styles

sirius x remus & marlene x yas: 1950 - king princess

sirius x remus smut lol: movement - hozier

sirius x remus pre confession fifth year: do i wanna know - hozier

marlene: boyfriend - dove cameron

sirius x remus post confession sirius pov: rock n’ roll with me

summer 1977 remus post-war pov: our last summer - abba

regulus’ death, sirius’ pov: fourth of july - sufjan stevens

sirius x remus pre -godric’s hollow sirius’ pov: falling - harry styles

sirius pov azkaban era: lights are on - tom rosenthal

sirius x remus post - azkaban era remus pov: to build a home - tom rosenthal

sirius x remus, sirius’ pov: sweater weather - the neighbourhood 

remus x grant post-azkaban era, grant leaving: i love you so - the walters

post betrayal, remus’ pov: rolling in the deep x another love

remus’ pov early azkaban era: where’s my love - syml

sirius x remus post azkaban era, remus’ pov: when we were young - adele

sirius x remus post azkaban era: two ghosts - harry styles

remus’ pov, post sirius’ death: the night we met - lord huron

sirius x remus hogwarts era: ribs - lorde

remus’ pov post betrayal: mr loverman - ricky montgomery

sirius x remus pre confession: happiness is a butterfly - lana del rey

[blogdojuanesteves]

FOTÓGRAFAS BRASILEIRAS IMAGEM SUBSTANTIVA > org. YARA SCHREIBER DINES

Imagem acima de Mel Coelho / Mamana Coletiva

Desde seus primórdios, a captura de imagens, por aparatos de diferentes fazeres que desembocou no que conhecemos hoje por fotografia, a produção das mulheres foi notável, embora nem sempre  divulgada, nem prestigiada a contento. Motivo pelo qual as antologias e inventários quando tratam delas devem ser celebrados, como agora no livro Fotógrafas Brasileiras Imagem Substantiva (Grifo, 2021) publicado pela professora e pesquisadora paulista Yara Schreiber Dines, que mostra o trabalho de 60 fotógrafas que atuaram no Brasil, da arte ao documental, passando pelo fotojornalismo e outras atividades entre os anos 1910 até os dias de hoje.

Imagem acima de Lita Cerqueira

 Como toda lista ou antologia fotográfica, as escolhas são sempre críticas, como quaisquer outras do gênero, que trazem como característica intrínseca o poder da escolha pelas poucas pessoas que se aventuram nessa importante e necessária curadoria. O livro propõe autoras fundamentais do cânone e abdica de outras igualmente importantes, seja pela impossibilidade técnica da inclusão ou pelos conceitos que margeiam a experiência curatorial, o habitual em toda coletânea. Entretanto, constitui-se em uma importante publicação que se une às poucas que trazem excelentes elementos visuais e textuais. Em resumo, integra uma estante essencial subindo mais um degrau da nossa combalida cultura, um passo adiante para um necessário reconhecimento histórico.

Imagem acima de Marcia Xavier

 Fotógrafas brasileiras/Imagem Substantiva, junta-se a outras ações do mundo que envolvem as fotógrafas. De setembro a outubro de 2021, aconteceu a mostra The New Woman Behind the Camera, no Metropolitan Museum of Art  MET, com curadoria da americana Andrea Nelson, curadora associada de Fotografia da National Gallery of Art de Washington, DC. estruturada nas primeiras ondas feministas e nas fotografias que marcaram o modernismo no início do século XX. A crítica Lucy McKeon, escreveu para Aperture.org que havia um argumento em denominar um movimento, New Womanhood, surgido com os grandes desenvolvimentos da fotografia.

Imagem acima de Lily Sverner

 É verdade que já faz tempo que historiadores e pesquisadores da Europa, Estados Unidos e de parte da América Latina vêm mostrando a relevância da produção fotográfica feminina, colocando-a em seu  lugar de grande importância. Não precisa muito para entender a situação quando enxergamos na maioria dos acervos institucionais e privados a discrepância entre os gêneros, assim como no mercado editorial quando olhamos a desproporção entre os autores, ambos resultado de uma permanente atitude misógina e discricionária.

Imagem acima de Elza Lima

 Fotógrafas de diferentes extratos foram organizadas cronologicamente por suas atuações pela autora: 1910/1950, Gioconda Rizzo (1897-2004) e Hermina Borges (1894-1989); 1940/1960, Alice Brill (1920-2013), Hildegard Rosenthal (1913-1990), Gertrudes Atschul (1904-1962) [ leia aqui reviews do livro Hildegard Rosenthal e Alice Brill fotógrafas de além-mar cosmopolitismo e modernidade nos olhares sobre São Paulo (Intermeios, 2020) de Schreiber Dines em https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/666753940643282944/hildegard-rosenthal-e-alice-brill-fot%C3%B3grafas-de e Gertrudes Altschul: Filigrana (MASP, 2021) organizado pelos os curadores Adriano Pedrosa e Tomás Toledo em https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/664412510649237504/gertrudes-altschul-filigrana ];1970/Atualidade com Stefania Bril (1922-1992), Vania Toledo (1945-2020), Bia Parreiras, Lita Cerqueira entre outras; 1980/Atualidade com Eneida Serrano, Elza Lima, Lily Sverner (1934-2016), Renata Castelo Branco (1955-2015), Kity Paranaguá, Maristela Colucci, Ana Carolina Fernandes, Luciana Whitaker,  Rosângela Rennó, Eliária Andrade, Elaine Eiger e Paula Sampaio  entre outras que constituem o grupo de maior número; finalizando com 2000/Atualidade com Patrícia Gouvêa e Bebete Viegas entre outras também importantes.

Imagem acima de Maureen Bisilliat

 Se por um lado salienta figuras importantes que nem sempre aparecem na mídia, por outro nomes significantes deixam de entrar na lista como as fotojornalistas Adriana Zehbrauskas, Alice Martins, Márcia Folleto, Nair Benedicto, Zuleika de Souza, Marizilda Cruppe e Cristina Vilares; ou que fazem parte do núcleo mais artístico e autoral como Ameris Paolini, Anna Mariani, Lucia Loeb, Christiana Carvalho, Tina Gomes, Walda Marques, Flávia Mutran, Brígida Baltar, Helena Rios e Fabiana Figueredo ; bem como Camila Butcher, Marcia Ramalho, Marisa Alvarez Lima e Isabel Garcia, representativas da produção fashion e social das décadas de 1970 e 1980, algumas delas incluídas em acervos importantes como o do Museum of Modern Art, MoMA, de Nova York e Museu de Arte de São Paulo, MASP.

Imagem acima de Ana Carolina Fernandes

 Outra questão, mas certamente difícil de promover uma inclusão- até porque este livro não se trata de uma enciclopédia- são as fotógrafas que atuaram antes de 1910, caso de Rosa Augusta, de João Pessoa, Paraíba, que dirigia um dos raros estabelecimentos fotográficos dirigidos por uma mulher, a Photographia Minerva, que atuava em 1892, como nos mostra o pesquisador e fotógrafo Boris Kossoy, em seu excelente Dicionário Histórico-Fotográfico Brasileiro- Fotógrafos e ofício da Fotografia no Brasil 1883-1910 ( IMS, 2002). Entretanto, em seu texto, a organizadora faz referência a Amalthea Malta, filha do consagrado fotógrafo alagoano, radicado no Rio de Janeiro, Augusto Malta (1864-1957) que trabalhava como retocadora das fotografias. Segundo ela, esta função e também a de laboratorista pelas mulheres era constante nos ateliers do final do século XIX e início do XX.

Imagem acima de Vilma Slomp

 Yara Schreiber Dines me conta que não há uma publicação semelhante no Brasil e a sua proposta é dar maior visibilidade às fotógrafas, valorizar e fomentar o empoderamento. Ela diz que  "há uma questão forte de invisibilidade. Existem fotógrafas excelentes que não são visibilizadas/valorizadas pela mídia, além da questão da participação e inclusão das mulheres na história da fotografia e da arte." o que ela certamente tem razão.

Imagem acima Oscar Niemeyer por Nana Moraes

 Para as curadoras Angela Magalhães e Nadja Peregrino que assinam texto no livro, "A produção fotográfica feminina tem sido abordada por várias pesquisas acadêmicas, que apontam as lacunas de um história secular." Para elas, o livro incorpora valores estéticos distintos, através de uma apreensão avessa a tendências ou rótulos, que mostram um panorama onde vemos similitudes, diferenças e conexões entre uma e outra autora, inseridas nos contextos de sua época, como observa-se no trabalho da pioneira Gioconda Rizzo, no estúdio comercial Photo Femina (1914-1916),  "onde percebe-se a constância dos retratos sensuais de mulheres e crianças, cujos ombros desvelados se assemelham às de retratos da atriz Sarah Bernhardt (1844-1923) feitos pelo francês Félix Nadar (1820-1910), com uma intimidade até então interdita à mulher."

Imagem acima de Cynthia Brito ( 1952-2019)

 A busca pela equalização dessa representação, tão necessária, que Schreiber Dines nos apresenta é assunto de longa data, mas podemos lembrar de pesquisas mais recentes, como o excepcional livro A History of Women Photographers  (Abbeville Press, 1994) da americana Naomi Rosemblum (1925-2021) que já conta com várias reedições, onde podemos ler as palavras do curador luxemburguês Edward Steichen (1879-1973): “Muito do grande futuro da fotografia pode ser explicado pela percepção das mulheres”. Para a pesquisadora, o que quer que essa afirmação possa ter significado para seu criador, o papel das mulheres, expressivo  já em meados do século XX, certamente foram notáveis.

Imagem acima de Jacqueline Hoofendy /Movimento Fotógrafas Brasileiras

 Outra importante publicação, bem mais recente, Une histoire mondiale des femmes photographes (Textuel,2020) da dupla francesa Luce Lebart , historiadora e curadora e Marie Robert, professora e filósofa. Para elas, "O apagamento das mulheres na história da fotografia é fruto de uma longa tradição de descrédito. Criadoras originais e autônomas, nunca deixaram de documentar, questionar e transfigurar o mundo, demonstrando que a câmara pode ser uma ferramenta fantástica de emancipação. Nenhuma experimentação ou ruído dos séculos XIX e XX lhes escapou." A pesquisa foi realizada com o apoio do festival Rencontres d'Arles e Women In Motion, um programa da Kering, empresa do segmento de luxo, que procura destacar o lugar das mulheres nas artes e na cultura.

Imagem acima Alice Kanji

  "Se o cinema aparece a princípio como linguagem de ficção, a imagem fotográfica sempre enfrentou o dilema de se confrontar com as funções predeterminadas de seus dispositivos hegemônicos. Assim, de início, a história das associações fotoclubistas mundiais se encontra relacionada ao movimento pictorialista (1890-1914), caracterizado por íntimas relações entre fotografia e pintura." escrevem Peregrino e Magalhães. Elas ressaltam o trabalho de  Hermínia de Mello Nogueira Borges, do Photo Club Brasileiro criado em 1923, que subverte "o caráter técnico em favor da aliança entre a mão e a máquina, como em suas paisagens nebulosas que sofrem interferências de concepção quase impressionista." Igualmente lembram que há um consenso "à luz da historiografia" na grande participação do Foto Cine Clube Bandeirante (FCCB), entidade de que fizeram parte Gertrudes Altschul, Alice Brill, Alice Kanji (1918-1992) e Madalena Schwartz (1921-1993) selecionadas nesta publicação. Esta última que ganhou uma recente publicação do Instituto Moreira Salles, As Metamorfoses Travestis e Transformistas na São Paulo dos anos 70 (IMS, 2021) fotografias do acervo da entidade. [ leia review deste livro em https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/659699721049391104/as-metamorfoses-travestis-e-transformistas-na-s%C3%A3o ].

 Imagem acima Eliária Andrade

De forma notável é a visibilidade de fotógrafas como baiana Lita Cerqueira, que apesar de contar quatro décadas de carreira, somente há pouco ganhou a devida relevância na mídia, participando de uma grande mostra do acervo fotográfico da Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF) em 2021, uma ação do curador Ricardo Fernandes, mineiro, radicado em Paris, assim como a obra da paulista Alice Kanji, que sai da sombra de seu marido, o fotógrafo Tufi Kanji (1906-1979), nomes importantes do nosso chamado movimento moderno. Interessante, como o New Womanhood é a inclusão do Movimento Fotógrafas Brasileiras criado em 2016 no Rio de Janeiro, nascido do encontro de 138 mulheres na escadaria do Teatro Municipal, encabeçado pela fotógrafa Wania Corredo, autoras como Jacqueline Hoofendy, Andréa Farias, Simone Marinho e Tetê Silva, entre outras. Do mesmo ano, Mamana Coletiva, com Bárbara Ferreira e Isis Medeiros (MG), Bruna Custódio e Mel Coelho (SP), Jacqueline Lisboa e Janine Moraes (DF) e Nay Jinknss (PA).

Imagem acima Ella Dürst

  Evocando a condição substantiva das imagens (e das mulheres), Schreiber Dines destaca que a temática do livro está inserida no "eixo imagens - estudos do gênero", questão que, segundo ela, vem sendo trazida à tona, desde o final dos anos 1970, nos Estados Unidos e Europa, por mostras significativas, mais recentemente focadas na história da arte. Uma busca importante por iluminar tanto as autoras como sua produção.

 Uma de suas fontes situa-se na referência ao artigo "Why have there been no great women artists" escrito pela historiadora da arte americana Linda Nochlin  (1931-2017) para a edição de janeiro de 1971 da ARTnews e incluído no livro Woman in Sexist Society: Studies in Power and Powerlessness (New American Library, 1972) organizado pelas feministas Vivian Gomik e Barbara K.Moran (1934-2021). Texto primordial que discute o papel da mulher artista e o papel do feminismo:  Escreve ela categoricamente: "No campo da história da arte, o ponto de vista do homem branco ocidental, inconscientemente aceito como o ponto de vista do historiador da arte, pode - e se mostra - inadequado não apenas por motivos morais e éticos, ou porque é elitista, mas puramente intelectual..."

Imagem acima de Bia Parreiras

 Fotógrafas brasileiras -Imagens substantivas tem o condão de ampliar as possibilidades emancipatórias ao juntar fotojornalistas icônicas como Maureen Bisilliat, Claudia Andujar, Rosa Gauditano e Jaqueline Joner, com autoras de gerações distantes como Ana Carolina Fernandes, Luciana Whitaker e Marlene Bergamo; associar à estas fotógrafas que se dedicaram a moda e ao editorial como Nana Moraes e Ella Dürst e agregar artistas como Cris Bierrenbach,  Claudia Jaguaribe, Marcia Xavier, Rochele Costi, Vilma Slomp e Rosângela Rennó à jovens talentos como Bárbara Wagner e Sofia Borges, circundadas por dezenas de outras igualmente importantes. Não completam nosso vasto elenco nacional de diferentes gêneros, é verdade, mas representam não somente uma “fotografia feminina”, mas sim a imagem brasileira como um todo.

 Imagens © das autoras   Texto © Juan Esteves

 Ficha técnica básica:

 Concepção do projeto, textos, curadoria fotográfica e depoimentos:  Yara Schreiber Dines

Textos de pesquisadoras convidadas: Angela Magalhães e Nadja Peregrino

Pesquisa de textos e imagens: Andreia Nara Leonardo Santorelli

Tratamento de imagens: Effort Consultoria Gráfica

Impressão: Pancrom

Edição bilíngue Português-Inglês

Patrocínio BNP Paribas através de renúncia fiscal por lei federal.

  * nestes tempos bicudos de pandemia e irresponsabilidade política com a cultura vamos apoiar artistas, pesquisadores, editoras, gráficas e toda nossa cultura. A contribuição deles é essencial para além da nossa existência e conforto doméstico nesta quarentena *

 Leia aqui reviews de outras autoras

3 é 5 (Editora Vento Leste, 2021) de Dani Tranchesi

https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/659435417559547904/3-%C3%A9-5-dani-tranchesi

 Unforgettable (Editora Ateliê Oriente, 2021) de Maria Cecilia de São Thiago

https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/657443593053749248/o-pictorialismo-originalmente-surgiu-do-embate

 Formas Fósseis (Fotô Editorial, 2021) de Daniela  Carbognin

https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/655540002157182976/formas-f%C3%B3sseis-fot%C3%B4-editorial-2021-livro-da

 Brasil de Dentro (BEĨ, 2021) de Elaine Eiger

https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/655248085070528512/em-2013-a-fot%C3%B3grafa-e-cineasta-paulista-elaine

 Nós, os outros (Fotô Editorial, 2021), livro da paulista Solange Quiroga

https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/664852220705193984/n%C3%B3s-os-outros-fot%C3%B4-editorial-2021-livro-da

 Los Cerros ( Fotô Editorial, 2020) de Elaine Pessoa

https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/638329862802882560/jujuy-%C3%A9-uma-prov%C3%ADncia-do-noroeste-argentino-com

 Versus, Memoriar (por m²) e Memorabilia 3  de Marcia Gadioli

https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/628364696589860864/memorabilia-3-memoriar-por-m%C2%B2-versus

 Maiakóvski ( Kartini, 2016) de Neide Jallageas

https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/622465388192612352/maiak%C3%B3vski-neide-jallageas

 Mashallah (Ed.Id 2019) de Gabriela Vivacqua

https://blogdojuanesteves.tumblr.com/post/612776940503498752/mashallah-%C3%A9-um-voc%C3%A1bulo-de-origem-%C3%A1rabe-uma

[wexhappyxfew]

Don’t mind me just thinking about how Judy spent her entire life just surviving, struggling to get by, but now she has her girls and her husband is a hot piece of ass.

the way this ask literally SENT ME INTO AN ONSLAUGHT OF EMOTIONS 😭😭😭😭

you are SO. RIGHT. SWEET ANON!!!!!

judy’s life in rural north carolina was definitely an incredibly defining factor to her character and is something all of us seem to reference with her — AND NOW?????? she’s going to get to spend the rest of her life with someone like rosie and the comfort of the women of the Silver Bullets - no doubt sometimes she lays there at night thinking it was all worth it, i survived my youth to get here with him and these women and it was all worth it. like can you hear me SOBBING my eyes out?!?!?

like ….. rosie and the Silver Bullets crew are and will remain absolutely everything to judy. she’s a sentimental person, she always has been, even from when she was younger and times were rough - she was always appreciative of the smallest things. AND NOW?????? she has rosie rosenthal and the Silver Bullets girls. there’s not much more she can ask for besides a good night’s sleep. positively crying over this thanks 🥲

also … just you are so right like - SHE’S GOT A HELLA GOOD-LOOKING LAWYER AS HER HUSBAND!!! GOOD FOR HER!!!!!!

always reminded of ‘you are in love’ by taylor swift for these two …. specifically these lyrics as the song opens:

one look, dark room / meant just for you / time moved too fast / you play it back / buttons on a coat / light-hearted joke / no proof, not much / but you saw enough / small talk, he drives / coffee at midnight / the light reflects / the chain on your neck / he says, "look up" / and your shoulders brush / no proof, one touch / but you felt enough

IT’S THEM (i scream) IT’S THEM!!!!!!!!

[arcticdementor]

Sitting on the couch watching TV earlier this month, my wife read to me a headline from her iPhone. “Listen to this,” she said: “There are only 15 lesbian bars left in the entire country.”

“Great,” I said, “We’ll each get our own.”

Lesbian bars have always been vastly outnumbered by bars for straight people and gay men, but in the 1980s, there were more than 200 lesbian bars in the U.S. What happened? Well, a lot of them sucked. The first lesbian bars I went to in my early 20s were dank, smoky caves where women in khaki shorts and backward caps grinded on each other to Outkast. They could have been frat bars if not for the notable absence of men.

…

But there’s something else going on right now, because it’s not just lesbian bars that are disappearing; it’s lesbian as a category itself.

After Portland’s last lesbian bar closed in 2010, as Ellena Rosenthal explored in the Willamette Week, there were attempts to start lesbian-specific nights at various venues, but most avoided the L-word to appear inclusive of trans and nonbinary people. One event, called Temporary Lesbian Bar, apologized after being accused of condoning “trans women exterminationism” for using the labrys — a double-headed ax that symbolizes female strength and has long been a part of lesbian iconography — in their logo. That event still exists (or did before Covid), but the organizers make sure to advertise that, despite the name, it’s “open, inclusive, and welcoming to all people.” (Oddly, these fights only seem to occur around women’s space, not men’s. If gay bars, bathhouses, and clubs go extinct, it will be because of Covid, not because of infighting over inclusion.)

Portland may be a parody of PC, but it’s not an outlier. When I came out in North Carolina in the early 2000s, the term “lesbian” was fading and “queer” was rapidly rising. Most of my peers saw lesbians as stodgy, old-fashioned, and uncool, whereas queers were hip, edgy, and inclusive. Yet “queer” is vague enough to mean nearly anything, so the label says less about your love life and more about your politics. (I propose we all start using the Kinsey Scale instead.)

The flight from “lesbian” has accelerated since. An academic in the Southeast, who asked to remain anonymous, told me that when she mentioned to a colleague that she’s a lesbian, the colleague “reacted like I’d confessed to being a Confederate Lost-Causer. She told me that the term is outdated and problematic, and I shouldn’t use it.” So the lesbian keeps quiet about her identity: “It’s like living in a second closet.”

Not long ago, it would have been the Christian right stigmatizing homosexual women. Today, it’s also from people who call themselves queer.

…

Nonbinary people say that the identification liberates them from the prison of gender, but for others, it doesn’t dismantle gender roles and stereotypes; it reinforces them. It legitimizes the idea that there’s an intractable gender binary in the first place. Instead of saying, “I’m a woman and I reject gender roles,” NB ideology says, in effect, “I reject gender roles and therefore I’m not a woman.”

Joycelyn MacDonald, the editor-in-chief of the lesbian site AfterEllen, has seen the NB ideology pushed by well-intended people and she worries about the unintended consequences. “When we say that femininity is equivalent to womanhood, we leave no space for women, gay or straight, to be gender non-conforming,” she told me. “Butch lesbians especially have fought for the right to claim space as women, and now women are running from that instead of boldly stepping into it. It’s another way of saying ‘I’m not like other girls,’ and it’s demeaning to other women.”

This is not a popular position in some queer communities, and AfterEllen is routinely accused of being transphobic. In 2018, Rhea Butcher, a nonbinary comic, tweeted: “You don’t represent me or my friends and your website is a sham. You’re not a lesbian/bisexual website, you’re a TERF website.” (“TERF" stands for “trans-exclusionary radical feminist” and is not, to put it mildly, a compliment.) Butcher’s tweet is typical, and it’s part of what makes having this conversation so fraught.

There’s been no clear polling on the shift from “lesbian” to “nonbinary,” and so my sense that the lesbian is endangered is purely anecdotal. But there are plenty of anecdotes. After I put out a call on Twitter asking lesbians for input, my inbox filled with emails from women who said vast portions of their friend groups have adopted new labels and pronouns. But none feel like they can openly discuss it, which is apparent by the number who asked to remain anonymous: all of them.

…

Some feminists argue that women are so oppressed in society that opting out of womanhood is a way of opting out of oppression. I’m skeptical. Why didn’t women do this decades ago, when oppression was objectively greater? Besides, enbies are more likely to be Smith undergrads than, say, immigrants getting assaulted at the border.

And there’s another not-so popular explanation: that it’s a fad, a form of social contagion.

I’m aware that this will be offensive to some people. The concept of a fixed, internal gender identity has become sacrosanct, and it’s viewed as something deeply personal and meaningful, like the soul. But humans are social creatures and we are easily influenced by our peers. This isn’t a moral judgment, just a fact, and I’ve seen how it plays out in my own peer circle. First one person comes out as nonbinary, then another, then another, and then one day half the dykes you know go by “they.” Add social media to the mix, and fawning profiles of nonbinary people in the press, and you’ve got yourself a mass cultural phenomenon.

I ran this theory by a therapist who specializes in LGTBQ issues. (She asked to remain anonymous, so I’ll call her Tara.) Tara told me that while the most common complaints of her young female patients involve gender identity, it’s not an issue with older patients. The older ones struggle with their sexuality or their relationships, but aside from a few transexuals with dysphoria, gender identity doesn’t come up. And young women, in particular, are prone to social contagion. We’ve seen this in many areas: eating disorders, cutting, exercising, yawning, strange fits of laughter, and even (forgive the term) hysteria.

When I asked Tara if social contagion could be the cause of the nonbinary movement, she paused for long enough that I thought she may have hung up the phone. “Yes,” she said. “But I can’t really say that to anyone.” The professional risks are too great.

[cristalconnors]

BEST SOUND EDITING

WINNER:

THE WOLF HOUSE- Pablo Bahamondez, Peter Rosenthal, Claudio Vargas

NOMINEES:

HIS HOUSE- Glenn Freemantle, Nick Freemantle, Frank Kruse, Steve Little, Robert Malone

I’M THINKING OF ENDING THINGS- Vinny Alfano, Alfred DeGrand, Lewis Goldstein, Nick Seaman

THE INVISIBLE MAN- Will Files, P.K. Hooker

SOUND OF METAL- Nicolas Becker, Maria Carolina Santana Caraballo-Gramcko