#el Doctor

[sacredwhores]

Suzan Pitt - El Doctor (2006)

"Not to be born is, beyond all estimation, best; but when a man has seen the light of day, this is next best by far, that with utmost speed he should go back from where he came."

Sophocles, Oedipus at Colonus

[jafar-panahi]

El doctor (2006) directed by Suzan Pitt

[martinvrisuela]

Es el joven doctor

[theskyisglue]

El Doctor (2006): a film by Suzan Pitt

This song popped up in my shuffle feed and as I was working in my studio. It made me reflect as to where I first heard it. “El Doctor” an animated short film by Suzan Pitt 1943-2019 (RIP🙏❤️)

“In a crumbling 1920s Mexican hospital, patients with bizarre afflictions are in constant need of medical attention, but the miserable doctor in charge prefers to drink. However, an encounter with the Saint of Holes will rearrange the doctor’s fate, sending him on a journey of altered perspective.” (via summary MUBI)

I had the privilege of taking an experimental animation class at CalArts back in 2016/17 taught by Suzan. She was such an inspiring person to be around. Years laters I find myself digging into the richness of her animations.

Along with the stunning imaginative visual comedic storyline; the films soundtrack is full of beautiful haunting melancholic music. With music by Los Madrugadores, Maya y Cantu, Conjunto San Antonio Alegre, Trio Alegre, and Beto Villa.

“By 1946 Villa had developed the idea of merging Mexican-American music and more mainstream popular music by combining the urbanized orquesta with a ranchero style, thereby giving it an arrancherado orquesta sound.”

Perhaps, I'll make a playlist of the soundtrack. Many of her films along with El Doctor are available on youtube🩺

[urologycureseo]

Vejiga caida

Esto puede ocurrir debido a la debilidad de los músculos y tejidos que sostienen la vejiga en su lugar.

[labrecha]

Aspectos más importantes del dolor

#Saludable Aspectos más importantes del dolor #Opinión de Juan José Velázquez en #LABRECHA

Por definición, el dolor es una sensación desagradable y una experiencia emocional asociada con daño tisular real o potencial. Función: Actúa como una señal de alerta para proteger el cuerpo de daños mayores, por esto es importante saber que la percepción de dolor no es por daño en el tejido únicamente, sino que funciona de manera psicológica con la somatización al igual que por creencias que es…

[jetslay]

DC Super-Heroes by Barry Kitson.

[aeon-uriel]

[tonsillessscum]

I would have fought you forever. I would have wrestled you through time.

I would have turned you, and been turned.

Amal El-Mohtar - This is How You Lose the Time War

[puppetwoman17]

Thinking of writing out sitcom-style scenes(not the ones with the laughing track)with the magic community/Fawcett heroes/Batson family. The potential is there.

Also imagine the hilarious couch scenes(you know, when they talk to the camera). I’m thinking about some done in a universe where Billy adopts Connor without anyone knowing his identity.

Like he comes into a meeting with other magic users and universal overlords with his mug that says “best dad ever”. Fate puts his head in his hand and Metron gives him a disappointed look 🤣

[sacredwhores]

Suzan Pitt - El Doctor (2006)

[forestshadow-wolf]

His leg buckled, and the ground met him hard at the knees, but he didn't feel it. Couldn't feel it. Couldn't feel anything but fucking agony.

Ghost was dying; he could feel it in his heart. Literally. He could feel the soulbond unraveling. Out and away and away and away. Like plucking a live chicken, except he was the bird not the butcher. It was an anguish all too familiar. Only last time was like ripping his flesh open with rose thorns over and over again to pain the petals red, and this time felt like stitching open a wound to leave it weeping blood and guts and fluids and infection. This time it felt like festering evil.

"WHERE IS HE!" He roared, snapping at the hands on him, grabbing at others to haul himself to his feet again. His knee went weak again, but he would not let his limbs fail him. Fail Ghost. "GET OFF ME!" He did not wipe out an entire enemy outpost, only to be stopped by his own allies, while the very thing keeping him alive dies.

Some barking command that he didn't hear from outside his tunnel of vision had the burning touches release him. He obeyed a command that he didn't discern out of forced submission. The rabid thing rearing it's ugly face recognizing authority in the face of anger.

He wasn't sane as he stalked through the halls, following a faceless form he knew but didn't recognize. It's didn't matter. Nothing much but the decade old pain twisting where his heart should be mattered. None of it mattered because Ghost was dying.

He was dying while he loved.

Because some unlucky tosser touched what was his, and now Ghost was dying with fire as blood, as he unraveled Soap's heart. And Soap could feel every bit of it. The pain and agony of losing a soulbond. Again.

He knew the fire burning Ghost alive. I made the vial in his possession feel that much heavier. He carried the world in his pocket. It was smaller than his littlest finger, and it fit in his hand like he was meant to crush it. And it would save his life.

It would save Ghost's life.

He doesn't remember the walk to bring him to Ghost. Only flashes of anger where he snapped at too many hands.

But then he's there. Surrounded by white walls, and a white cot. Staring at a bloodied man in a dirty kit and black mask. Untouched on the command of an even less sane, more rabid him, only 27 hours ago.

He doesn't know who came and who left. Only remembers him, and his body, and the little glass vial, and Ghost. He remembers the chilled, damp skin when he pulled fabric back to reveal too pale skin underneath. He remembers how the needle went in easily. He doesn't move after that. Someone takes the needle from him. He felt it. Didn't see it. Saw only Ghost.

He just. Stood there. Watching. But not looking. Not seeing. He couldn't think. Couldn't move. Didn't dare hope. Couldn't pray. Couldn't beg. Pure catatonia. Nobody moved him. Nobody touched him. He heard people talking. Maybe to him. Maybe not. He doesn't know.

He doesn't remember how long it was. Maybe that night. Maybe that day too. But he remembers what brought him back.

He remembers the chest rhythm change. Something not just a natural sigh. Something deeper. Rousing. And the way Ghost's eyes flicked behind his eyelids for what felt like hours before they opened. Ghost was awake. He was alive.

And it's only then that he realizes that the agony had drained from his veins. The thread around his heart rewound. And it's then that exertion takes him. He falls to his knees hard. Ghost is quick on the call button with panic. But Soap doesn't make it 'til a nurse rushes in before black invades the rest of his vision like a shot to the skull

It couldn't have been more than half a minute before he comes too. It's bright, and there are hands touching him and voices speaking over his head and it's all too much.

"Where is he?" He swats at the abrasive touches, "Ghost. He's awake." Everything hurts. His muscles, his bones, even his teeth. But it's of small importance.

"Easy, Sunshine." A gruff voice pulls everything back into perspective. Price. Crouched at his thigh with a worried look on his face. Soap presses himself up despite protests from the nurses. "He's fine, lad." Price cups the back of his neck, "you made it in time. You saved him." He says it like a prayer. Like he knows it's the only thing that'll keep the rabid thing leashed. And he might be right.

[doble-d-2]

[gobald]

I love Doctor Borous and how much he hates Richie Marcus

[violet-moonstone]

If I had a nickel for every time I was in a fandom in which a woman of colour was either disliked or dismissed for having a crush on or being romantically involved with a someone who is shipped with another (white) character—I would have way more than two nickels, and it’s ridiculous that this keeps happening.

[jetslay]

DC Super-Heroes by Joey Lee Cabral.