#going through old notes looking for poetry fragments for a project

[juno-infernal]

[emptymasks]

Old Web European Musical Sites

So this post started because I was looking through the waybackmachine on the Internet Archive for the old Disney Fairies site for a friend, and remembered I'd backed up some old musical related sites a couple years ago on the waybackmachine just to archive them.

Which made me remember how recently I saw someone on here, I don't remember who, asking if there were interviews either about Elisabeth das Musical or specifically with Uwe Kroger (the actor who originated the role of Der Tod/Death) in English to which someone had answered no but there are some quotes and fragments in other posts on here. Which made me remember an old website I'd found that did have interviews on and I went out to find it. After I found it, I tried to find another website I'd found that had nice old photos of Uwe on that I'd save for I'd never seen them anywhere else, but sadly can no longer find the site and I hadn't bookmarked it or archived it. But, in doing so I did find some others.

So, come along with me as I find some ye olde websites based around European Musicals and Non-English Musicals, all of which I am archiving using the waybackmachine and can be found on my archive.org account @ wennli3b3 under the 'web archives' tab on my profile.

What is old web? The aesthetics wiki describes it as "Essentially consisting of screencaps and gifs, Old Web is an aesthetic utilizing traditional web design elements combined with aspects of poetry and self-expression. This also includes GIFs, video games, and clip-art. This aesthetic expresses nostalgia for Internet culture of the early 1990s to early 2010s." Think of old GeoCities and AngelFire websites, the pre-2010s internet where it wasn't uncommon for anyone to make their own little website for anything and the internet wasn't just social media. There's just such a charm for me about these old sites and the work people put into customising and decorating their sites, often just as a fun project for themselves or a way to document things they loved. Therefore the websites we'll be looking at are from the 90s up to the late 2000s, 2010s and onwards websites don't count for this list.

What is the waybackmachine? The waybackmachine is hosted on the Internet Archive, it's a digital archive of websites that lets you visit websites as they were during the past if they've been archived there.

[Note: this post won't have clickable links because that can make Tumblr unhappy and either hide or soft-block my post, so sadly no clickable links, but I will write out the links with spaces in the hopes that won't hide the post and you will just have to type them in for yourselves, and I will link my web archive page in the replies to this post. I am also not claiming to be the first to back these sites up or discover them, some of them have already been archived in past, but doing them all under one account means you guys can have an easy list of them all in one place. Some of these sites no longer exist and are only accessible via the waybackmachine, in those cases I will save those sites to my web archive so they are all listed on one page.]

1. musicalvienna . at

Staring with a website some of you will be familiar with and while in it's current 2023 form doesn't count as old web and is easily accessible, we're going back in time with the waybackmachine to see how the site looked and what information it had about old current productions in 2000-2008. And frankly I don't know what to do with the information that at some point in 2000 there was a 'vampire museum' inside the Raimund Theatre that had what appears to be a wax figure of Steve Barton in his original Graf von Krolock costume. I. What??

2. eljen . net / kroeger

A fansite dedicated to Uwe Kroger, the actor, that was run seemingly from 1998-2002 that old photos, links to music that no longer work, but most important to me is the 'Press' page that has many articles and interviews with Uwe that have been translated into English! The site is also available in German eljen . net / kroeger / deutsch. A special shoutout to Uwe's own drawing of himself as Der Tod.

3. eljen . net / elisabeth

Run by the same person as the first site, in fact it is technically the same site however if you go to the root eljen . net there is just a blank page with a link to the /kroeger site, there's no direct link to the Elisabeth site, you can only find it through googling or having the direct URL.

4. iukc . de

The Uwe Kroger fanclub webite seems to have started around 2000 but it was taken offline sometime after October 2021 as going to the URL now leads to a 404 error page, but the site is still accessible using the waybackmachine. On a 2019 capture of the website it states this fanclub was dissolved on December 31st 2019 and was advertising the uwe-kroeger-community . com website as a new fanclub. Some of the pages are available in English and Japanese, but all of the pages are only available in German. The site includes information about the fanclub, as well as lists of Uwe's work, discography, and more.

5. gudrun-kauck . de

A site that as far as I can tell is run by someone just documenting their life and things they see, and that happens to include many musicals. Down the left side of the site there are pages for The Phantom of the Opera, Tanz der Vampire, Ludwig, Concerts, Musicals and Actors. Here there is so much information, interviews, photos, screenshots, transcriptions of scripts and lyrics, articles, and more. This site is a real treasure trove. It's been updating since at least 2004 and it's most recent update was in 2023. This site is in German.

6. jimsteinman . com

The Tanz der Vampire page on Jim Stienman's website has links to lots of articles, interviews and photos for the original 1997 Vienna production and the 2000 Stuttgart production. This site is in English.

7. carpe-jugulujm . com

Another site that is no longer active and can only be accessed via the waybackmachine, it was online by 2006 and taken offline between late 2021 and 2023. It has information on productions of Tanz der Vampire between 1997 and 2009 and is one of the few if not the only place I've found information about the 2000 Estonia production. This site is in English.

8. geocities . ws / mymusicalworlds

This website is all in Chinese, however parts of it are in English and German. It lists information on different musicals, actors, and has lyrics for songs, and photos. It also has midi files but, as with almost all of these old sites, the download links no longer work.

9. theatre-musical . com

This website started around 2002 and was closed some time in 2016, if you go to the website now all you'll get is a message saying the website has been closed, however the old pages are still accessible via the waybackmachine. There's pages for many musicals with lots of information about each show and each of these musical pages has a link to a page that lists other sites, official and fanmade, that are about this musical. There's many more sites to find via

10. elisabeth-fanclub . de

A fansite dedicated to Elisabeth das Musical, more specifically the 2001 Essen production and 2003 Vienna Revival. This site includes information and photos about these productions. It was online by 2004 and was taken offline some time after 2007 and is only now available via the waybackmachine. This site is in German.

11. sisi-net . de

While this site is more dedicated to the actual real Empress Elisabeth, it also has a page dedicated to Elisabeth das Musical which includes several articles and interviews for the 2001 Essen production. There is also some information on here about the Ludwig musical. This site is in German. It was online by 1999, in 2008 the site was empty and "'"under construction" and after 2008 seemed to have either had it's domain sold or hacked and became used for something else, and by 2019 was offline.

12. geocities . com / broadway / 8851

Another site that is dedicated to the real person Elisabeth, but also has information about multiple productions of Elisabeth das Musical. The site was started in 1996 and is no longer online as GeoCities no longer exists as a website hoster, but can be accessed using the waybackmachine. This site is in English.

13. elisabeth-musicpage . de

A German fansite for the 2001 Essen production of Elisabeth das Musical that contains information about the show, merchandise, photos, etc. The site was online by 2002, went under construction in 2005 and after 2006 went offline and only accessible via the waybackmachine. This site is in German.

14. elisabeth-das-musical . de

The old official site for the 2001 Essen production of Elisabeth das Musical. It's only accessible via the waybackamachine however all I could access is this homepage as the site seems to require flash player which no longer exists. The site was made in 2001, by 2006 it was redirecting to a different website that no longer exists, and by 2008 it was just offline.

15. sissi . nl

The official site for the 1999 Dutch production of Elisabeth das Musical. The site went up in 1999 and is no longer online and only accessible via the waybackmachine.

16. marloes . info

A site where someone cataloged every musical they saw between 1996 and 2004. Some of these listings link to their reviews of the musicals and pictures they took (the pictures of Elisabeth das Musical really interest me because they went on a night where Jesper Tyden was understudying for Der Tod (he usually played Rudolf) in teh 2001 Essen production).

17. danceofthevampries . com

The official site for the 2002 Broadway production of Tanz der Vampire. Whilst we all have... feelings about this production, the site's design is very of its time. It has information on the (re-written) plot, cast, downloads for the original English demo recordings (that no longer work), and more. In 2002 the cast page lists the Broadway cast, after the shows closure in 2003 these pages advertised the 2003 Hamburg cast, and by 2006 it now advertises the 2006 Berlin cast, and then even by 2012 that page was no longer being updated. This site is now only accessible via the waybackmachine, I don't know when exactly it went offline but I remember being able to acccess it back in 2020. This site is in English.

18. tanzdervampire . de

The official site for German-lanuage productions of Tanz der Vampire from 2000 to around 2004, mostly the 2003 Hamburg production. Some pages of the site sometimes redirect to musicalwelt . de, like the 'galarie' page that links to a page of many paintings by Mike Schöbs of the original 1997 Vienna production. The site is only accessible via the waybackmachine, sometimes I have difficultly loading the pages, and sometimes the pages on later dates redirect to stagegholding . de which no longer exists or works.

19. tanz-der-vampire . de

A fansite for the 2003 Hamburg production of Tanz der Vampire that is still online. It has info about the musical and this production. The page I found the most interesting is the info > links page. It has a list that includes screenshots of websites from around 2003 with official and fanmade sites for different actors from the musical (such as Marjan Shaki, Maike Switzer, Aris Sas, Thomas Mülner, Jens Janke, Ian Jon Bourg, Kevin Tarte and more) most if not all of these sites are on the waybackmachine (and I'm saving them to my own web archive page rather than listing them all here, Tumblr has a text limit and an image limit and we're already running close to it).

20. fuer-sarah . de

A fansite dedicated to actors who played Sarah including understudies, alternates, swings, and dancers who played Sarah/Solo Female Dancer in the dance sequences in Tanz der Vampire. This site is in German and is only available via the waybackmachine and was active between 2001-2005.

21. musicalland . de

A fansite dedicated to musical theatre with some more specific pages dedicated too Elisabeth das Musical, The Phantom of the Opera, 42nd Street and Mamma Mia. The site is still online and stopped updating in 2010. This site is in German. The link to the Elisabeth das Musical page no longer works, but can still be accessed using the waybackmachine.

22. old-hickory . demon . co . uk / jim

A fan page for composer Jim Steinman that has pages about his non-musical work as well as his musicals Tanz der Vampire and Whistle Down the Wind. The Tanz der Vampire pages include lyrics in German and English, as well as the entire original 1997 Vienna libretto translated into English, as well as the 2000 Stuttgart production's programme fully translated into English that includes information and interviews. The site is in English and only accessible via the waybackmachine.

23. romeojulietmusicals . com

A fan site for the French musical Roméo et Juliette that has pages dedicated to many different language productions with cast lists, information, lyrics and lyric translations. There are galleries on the site but the images on longer load. This site is in English and was online between 2004 to 2008. There is a 'related links' page that contains so many more links to other musical sites.

24. compat . tf1 . fr

A fan site for Roméo et Juliette for the original 2000 Paris production containing images of the cast, and video interviews and behind the scenes with links that no longer work. This site is in French.

25. mozartbudapest . hu

The official website for the 2003 Budapest production of Mozart das Musical. This website is only accessible via the waybackmachine, it contains the cast list, a bio of Mozart (the person), but sadly most of the image no longer work. I mention it here only because when i opened it I was surprised the original logo animation and music still played. This site is available in English and Hungarian.

26. notredameonline . com

During 2000-2001 this URL was for the French musical Notre Dame de Paris and you can see this via the waybackmachine. The site then went offline after 2001 and the domain was sold and since 2006 has belonged to the University of Notre Dame. I really like the design of this site, sadly most of the links open pop-ups that no longer work. The site is available in French and English.

27. notredamedeparis . it

The official site for the 2002 Italian tour of Notre Dame de Paris. It has a lot of information about the musical and this specific production. This site is in Italian and is only accessible via the waybackmachine.

28. geocities . ws / dreamcatcher182004

A fansite dedicated to a few musicals that was last updated in 2003. It has pages for Chicago, Les Mis, Miss Saigon, The Phantom of the Opera and Tanz der Vampire.

.

So yeah, that was a list. I hope that was interesting or for anyone wanting to find more information about these musicals for research, essays, or just for fun, that this post was helpful or interesting in some way. There are a lot more websites than just the ones on this list, however Tumblr has both a photo and a character limit for text posts. Hope someone found this interesting. I just like making lists.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

32. God Bless the Child

Previous || Word Count 7132

The next year was eventful for a tremendous amount of reasons.

First and foremost, Grace had a World Tour scheduled for the end of spring, entire summer, and beginning of fall. That meant that Hazel had the chance to travel, stuck with staff most of the time, or her mom the OTHER portion of time. She didn’t want to do that. Hazel liked seeing new things and traveling, even being around crowds of people, but she was going through puberty and often just wanted to chill with her friends or even by herself, to write poetry, maybe record some of her raps, and work on comics. Of course, Grace told her that if she could do that anywhere, it was in the tour bus.

Simon’s final book was going to be released in the summer, and he was going to begin working on the movie production for the (hopefully first and not only) film in the fall. Whether or not the studio would want to make more would depend on the success of this film, and the budget would be determined by what types of sales this last book made.

Grace was always going on about “an ecosystem,” a concept that one of her favorite influencers spoke about. Basically, she believed that whenever you had the chance to give people that you knew of/believed in a shot, you should do that. So, Simon wanted to get the studio in business with the tech company that he currently worked for, for numerous aspects of the production.

Simon already had multiple prototypes for animatronics and pointed plans for various aspects of this movie. A deal like that could really help the company (that he may or may not be staying at once he finished with this huge movie project), which also might be a situation in which he could be working on many of these things and get paid from his company as well, in the meantime for the work that fell under the studio’s umbrella. It would help all of them, and save money and trouble in other areas where he might have problems with CGI concerns and such.

Simon had been preparing for if Esmoroth took off big his entire life. He still had models at home, and years worth of world building, sketches, schematics, simulations, mini movies, files of programming for how various scenes looked in his mind.

These things being considered, whenever Simon put his and Grace’s schedules side by side at the beginning of the year to find opportunities and plan special events… well… They were not matching up very well. “I don’t like this Grace. I know that sometimes we take a few days apart, but our longest stint has been 2 weeks and 4 days… This calendar makes it look like we might see each other in increments of 6-8 weeks at a time, more than once and the fragments in between are…” He started breathing hard and she wrapped her arms around him from behind. He placed his hands over hers. “Okay. You’re right. We can do this.” She just smiled. She hadn’t said that, but that was basically what she wanted to convey. “Montanus’ arrival is scheduled for the 4th of July weekend.”

“Yeah. I’ll be flying out there. Are you coming?”

“Can’t. But, I’ll be there for the christening… which… you have a show the night before, so… Are you going to be there?”

“I’m planning on it. My show the night before is a few hours away, so I should be able to make it the next morning and still dash out to the next venue.”

“Sweet. Then, I’ll catch the show that night.”

“My period is that weekend.”

“Ugh. I mean… not that I don’t still love you then…”

“We both know why you’re here,” she said, chuckling.

“Because I can’t function outside of your divinity,” he replied, quicker than she was prepared for. He made note of all the spaces that he would have to possibly see her on this tour and started looking into the accommodations that he would need whenever he did.

.

Grace had hit after hit after hit on her album, her old original stuff was starting to receive a resurgence of streams and her pages were getting more traffic than her current team was able to handle some days. But, she simply reached out, within her ecosystem for others that might be able to join said team and make things flow better. Meanwhile, she didn’t get onto social media much. One of her problems with fully letting down her walls was the fact that surfing the Internet always made her have to take a look at how people viewed her. She had to start considering that no matter how well she did or how hard she tried, someone out there would have a problem with her, and because she was famous, it would be a lot of someones.

Hazel was online more with her work. She liked to enter freestyle challenges, submit her spoken word, publish her poems. She called her current brand of creativity “Doetry,” and she had a pretty increasingly large following. Simon usually helped to administrate, because Grace was never great at that type of thing and also because he didn’t trust Internet weirdos enough to not be involved.

She was going through things, but he never censored her or intruded. He monitored to make sure that nobody was making her life any harder than it had to be, being raised in NYC and the daughter of a very public figure, and also Simon, who was important enough, depending on who you asked… and he was getting to the point where he might reach notable fame.

May 19 was a Tuesday that year, so they would be spending the previous weekend celebrating Hazel’s birthday and her actual birthday would just be a school day that everyone on social media sent her birthday wishes on. Simon took time off to take Hazel, Lucy, Lindsay, Alex, Todd, and Louis to Grace for the weekend. The way that the schedule was set up, she wouldn’t have had the time to leave and come back and go to her next venue, but they would have the time to come to her. Hazel suggested that she just miss out, but Grace was NOT going to do that, especially with the year that Hazel had been having. So, she paid for Hazel’s friends to come with.

Simon found it fascinating that these kids’ parents were entrusting the children to him to get on a plane together, travel to another state, spend more than one night there, and fly them back home safely.

He supposed it was similar to a Scouts trip, or a school trip… but he was just the “parent” of another child. He wasn’t a scout leader or teacher. Then again, those were just people too, he guessed. He would NOT feel comfortable sending Hazel on a plane with any of these children’s parents, except for maybe Lucy’s.

But, Simon found that his old scouts instincts kicked in when being responsible for a group of kids, but this time around he had that nagging dad-like behavior that the past couple of years around Hazel had given him.

Being off for Hazel’s birthday, she arranged for them to have a spa day retreat. The kids and some of the staff were included in this, though not as advanced a day as Grace and Hazel. Whenever they met up and had their indulgences, Simon could barely keep his hands off of Grace. Hazel felt a little bit slighted.. It was HER birthday, after all. They didn’t have to be cozied up the whole time. Of course, Grace presumed she wanted to spend most of her time with her friends, and whenever they finished with cake and began listening to music and chilling, Grace and Simon left them with the Nanny so that they could have some alone time. Hazel aired her grievances to her friends. She hated that Grace was on tour. She hated that their home life was separated into different worlds that she had to board and unboard. Lindsay understood it perfectly. Her dad was sometimes not home for weeks or months. Sometimes, she didn’t see her mom (who actually lived with her) for days. Sometimes, whenever she did see her, the woman was busy with making appearances and performing shows, and she DIDN’T have a nanny. She just had to be at home by herself a lot. Whenever her dad was there, he’d have his friends over a lot. They would disrupt Lindsey’s quiet, but she would be grateful that she wasn’t alone. She would LOVE if her parents tried to include her in their worlds like Grace and Simon did with Hazel.

Lucy’s parents were usually there whenever she needed them, but they didn’t seem to be very happy. They were always together, but the only time that she saw them smile at each other or talk to each other was whenever they were out in public. Her father was a politician, and her mother was a public figure, simply for being his wife and being a good conservative wife who followed his guidelines. Lucy… didn’t care for any of it. She would’ve liked to just have two people who love each other like Grace and Simon seemed to.  

Hazel felt a little better, because apparently, she had pretty good parents. She also didn’t feel a little better, because she still felt dissatisfied.

Whenever Simon and Grace made it back, after the others were asleep, Hazel talked to Simon about letting her stay home with him after the school year ended. Both Grace and him loved her, right? So, she should be able to stay home, near her friends, in her comfort zone, and then she’d see Grace when she got home, and she’d be crazy excited about it, like she used to be when she didn’t get to see her everyday. Like she was whenever she saw her this weekend!

Simon reluctantly let her know he would be much busier in the summer than he was at the moment. He was at home with her and the Nanny as much as possible, but he reminded her that there was less than a month left of school and then she would be with her mom again. Her mom had ONLY been gone now for about a month… Hazel didn’t know if he could hear himself basically saying, “It’s only a couple of months away from your mom, both of you changing over that time in different ways and potentially growing apart, then you get to be awkwardly thrown back together because I’m not actually your parent and can’t wait until she can take you back!” He didn’t say that, but that was what she heard. She nodded her head, sadly, and Grace chimed in to remind her that she’d be on tour with her! They hadn’t been able to be together in almost a month and after one more, they would! Hazel smiled. “Of course, Grace. I can’t wait. We’re gonna have a lot of fun.”

Hazel finished off the school year with the Nanny and Simon. They flew out to meet with Grace, in June, spent a couple of days together, then Simon was headed back home, to focus on his stupid important things, Hazel couldn’t help but think. And she was pissed at him, too. She had been mopey and basically on autopilot most of this time, even with Grace trying desperately to cheer her up whenever she had some free time.

She just wanted a summer where she could hang out and have fun if she wanted to. Grace asked her to at least give her a couple of weeks to prove that this could be a fun experience. However, Grace kept running into that troublesome hassle of the public being pushy and entitled. Hazel and she kept either getting rushed in and out of places and trapped for a while, bothered every few minutes when they weren’t holed up, or surrounded by staff getting things done in between performances. Hazel lasted two weeks, then cried and begged to go home and be able to see her friends. It broke Grace’s heart but she promised to let Hazel go back with Simon after the stop in California for her baby brother’s birth.

Grace felt super rejected and cried about it, but if that was what Hazel really wanted, she didn’t want her career to make her feel stressed out. Her mother was quite a smartass about it. “Who would have thought that it might be difficult to focus on a demanding career while raising a child?”

“I didn’t call you for this.”

“Of course not. What did you call for?”

She wanted to know how the surrogate was. Grace didn’t know what it said about someone that they would rent out their body to grant someone else a child, but she could totally understand the flipside. Whenever Simon mentioned babies, she was extremely willing to adopt again, even the smallest baby that they would be able to be matched with… but nothing statistically made her have an inkling of wanting to actually change her entire body, probably for the worse so that she could potentially die to bring someone else into the world that she would immediately begin having to take care of and put everything into. It was hard enough to do with Hazel, and getting harder all of the time.

When that child’s period came around in February, Grace picked her up from school, gathered up the products she was most interested in (products from Grace’s own line), provided snacks, emergency meds, just in case, and any information that Hazel wasn’t certain about. Simon came over with a gift basket of stuff that had been suggested to him by browsing nice things to do for periods. They really wanted her to be comfortable and safe. She just wanted them to stay the fuck out of her room and let her lay down and write poems.

She didn’t get how Grace had period yoga, and heightened self care. The LAST thing Hazel felt like doing was caring about anything, even self. She wanted to rest and to rage. That was it. Grace would buy her flowers and say something silly like, “Whenever my period comes around, sometimes, flowers make me feel happier,” Then just… leave a pot with an orchid, or geraniums, or a peace lily in her room… to have to what? Care for a flower now TOO, as well as self?? Hazel hated the way her period made her feel. She spoke to her therapist about it and was advised to speak to her mother and potentially a gynecologist about it as well. Hazel put that conversation off, though.

She seemed her happiest whenever she was able to go to her grandparents’ to wait for the baby with them. Grace… didn’t understand…

Simon explained, “You don’t remember being 12 and not wanting to be around our parents?”

“Our parents sucked though! And she WANTS to be around my parents!”

“She wants to meet her baby uncle,” Simon told her and wrapped himself around her.

“Has she mentioned anything to you? I know that sometimes she feels more comfortable telling you stuff than she does me, since you aren’t her parent…”

He let go and frowned, “Wow.”

“I mean… There’s paperwork, Simon. You aren’t…”

“I know, but, I step in as much as you did before that, maybe even more. I understand that she technically isn’t mine, but she's important to me, too, Grace.”

“I know, but…” she sighed and shook her head, “I’m not trying to start a fight. Of course you’re as present as any father has ever been for her. I wasn’t trying to downgrade that, and I didn’t mean to sound like I was. I just wanted to know if she’d said anything to you about me.”

“No. She’s not talking to me. But, she does express herself via Doetry.”

“Her content is so angry and dark…”

“What she shares, at least…” Grace threw him a warning look. “I’m not saying make it a habit, but maybe taking a peek into her personal stuff might give you some type of clue as to what she needs right now.”

"I'm not snooping into Hazel's things, Simon. There's a reason that she shares what she shares and hides whatever she hides, IF she's hiding anything. I don't want to parent that way."

"Okay."

"And I'm also saying that you shouldn't."

"Noted."

"Okay… what I meant by shouldn't is don't do it."

"So, it's an order?"

"Yes."

He sighed. Hazel WAS Grace's daughter, legally, and he didn't want to do anything that he didn't have permission to. "Okay." It took him longer to say it than Grace had gotten accustomed to, but she knew he meant it and that it was hard for him to agree to this wish. She strummed his cheek with her thumb and he leaned into it and smirked. It was also easy to make him forget whenever she upset him. She leaned up just enough to kiss him on the nose and he blushed. She giggled. “What?”

“The fact that you’ll blush when I kiss you on the nose when you literally have been putting your nose right in between my thighs for almost 2 years.”

He blushed even more and shrugged his shoulders, “I’m blushing then, too. You just don’t notice because you’re usually quivering in pleasure.”

Sha gasped, “Cocky,” she said and elbowed him playfully.

“Confident… and accurate.”

“You don’t have to SAY it,” she said, now blushing herself.

He didn’t call her on it. Just seeing it was enough. Simon kissed her on the forehead and whispered, “I love you…” Her smile vanished and he furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her mouth in disappointment. “Sorry. I thought…”

“No… Don’t be. I guess it had to come up some time…” She stared at her hands. “I don’t know how to… I feel like my actions should… I know sometimes people just need to hear it, I just…”

“Please, stop.” He laughed, but was red and she had a feeling not from blushing. “You’re making it worse.”

“I just… Had an immediate flashback to the first time you told me and… I don’t know. This was so different, and you’re so different, and I have no idea why my brain is doing this to us…”

He wanted to say because of what he did to her, but hell.. That was really long ago and like she said, everything was different now. One day, she HAD to forgive him! He shrugged his shoulders, “You can’t control how you feel any more than I could.”

She frowned and nodded. Then, fortunately, Hazel came rushing in, "He's coming!" Simon and Grace both rushed into the birthing quarters where Mrs. Monroe, the documentation crew, the surrogate, midwife and such were. Hazel and Simon stood out of the way while Grace rushed to the surrogate and asked the midwife what she should do. (She was designated as her birthing partner, as she felt bad that her parents didn't seem to see her as anything more than a vessel) Grace spent a lot of time reading up to try to prepare for this.

It was a powerful time. It LOOKED as painful as it sounded from everything she read that discouraged her, but she tried to be strong for the surrogate. Simon was really impressed with how much Grace was able to do for her. He knew that she had become very empathetic over the years, but it was honestly a side of her he still hadn't seen. Meanwhile, Mrs. Monroe looked on, excitedly, but useless.

Whenever Montanus was born, Grace and the surrogate were both crying and Grace complimented her and told her how she was stronger than (Grace) could ever hope to be. When Grace tried to show her the baby, Mrs. Monroe cut her off and collected him, then gave the nurses some instructions for seeing to her. She was about to have delivery day photos taken.

"None with Astrid, Mom?" Grace wondered, still holding the woman's hand.

"You can, if you insist," she said. "Bad enough your father is late. I don't want to hold everyone up."

Grace was going to say more, but the surrogate squeezed and tugged her hand to get her attention and shook her head. "I signed up for this," she said, quietly. "It's not like he's mine…"

"You held him. You changed. You grew. You hurt. You bled. You cried. You.."

"Signed up for that." But she looked sad. Ao sad that Grace decided at that moment of she EVER DID have a surrogate, it was going to be a fellowship. A sisterhood. A loving connection in which she repaid the person with respect as well as her fee. She was a human. How her mother was able to just plant Montanus inside of her and basically discard her afterwards made Grace feel sick. She didn't even go with Simon and Hazel to see the baby. She was more concerned about this woman who had to put on a strong face after a really hard job.

Later, when she had to leave and also send Hazel off with Simon, she cried on him. "I'm not gonna do that to my surrogate. It was really mean, right? That was so cold…"

Simon rubbed her back, "Grace… it's a business transaction."

"He's not a transaction! He's my brother and he JUST got here, and Mom's ALREADY treating him like an asset. She messed up one kid and she’s had two decades to learn better emotional intelligence. The restart doesn’t look good to me.."

"She's bad at the emotional stuff, but she's trying," Simon offered. You aren't like her and you'll never have to be. You can treat your surrogate as sweetly as you please. But...I have to agree with your mom that they didn't need to connect. That'd just make it harder.

"She couldn't even say hi to him? After all of that?"

"It's what they agreed to. She would have taken one look at him and tried to keep him."

"She wouldn't be able to. He's from my parents' DNA. It was just… so uncomfortably cold. You should bring a baby into a warm life. I was too upset to even see him. I didn't want to give him the negative energy I had."

Hazel shrugged, "You didn't miss anything he looks like… a potato."

Simon gave her a shove and she wondered what was wrong with the truth. "He hasn't developed his looks yet. But he was cute in that it's a new life way."

"I… did not see that," Hazel admitted.

"You saw a potato," Simon repeated.

"Yep."

.

The christening was closer to the end of Grace's tour. She was going to be seeing her parents, new brother, Simon, and Hazel all again for the first time since she'd been on the road alone. Hazel and Simon went early so that he could help his dad with some things and Hazel would stay with her grandparents while he was doing that. Grace arrived in the morning and headed straight to the church.

They were supposed to wear neutral colors and earth tones, meanwhile, Montanus was styled to be in brilliant white with silver and gems. Grace had flashbacks to seeing photos of her own day. She had been draped in gold and yellow and dressed in something that was probably more expensive than reserving the building. She had been "clothed as the sun," and now nearly 25 years later, they had a boy "clothed as the moon."

Her mother told her that she has her outfit selected. She has to change in a room that brides generally used and Grace was a little thicker than when she had initially been fitted, so she squeezed into it and was far more voluptuous than she wanted to be in a church. Non-believer as she was, it simply seemed distasteful. She loved her halo crown for the event. It was pretty fancy, as she seemed to be reprising her role as the sun.

The officiant said something about the sun giving light to the moon, just as she, as his sister and godmother would give her own form of light to him and other poetic and sweet things about love and support, God and stuff and he blessed the baby and allowed them to put him on display for another photoshoot.

Grace ducked out, because she was STARVING, so of course Simon and Hazel came with, as they hadn’t had a chance to spend time with her in weeks. Old stomping grounds made them feel nostalgic and gave Hazel more fodder for imagining them as kids. She loved those times. Them, her age or a little bit younger or little bit older - she wished she knew them then. She wished for adventures like theirs with HER friends. She would never let it turn out how they were for a while, but she was also glad that they had each other now. The past few weeks with her and Simon had been very challenging, as he was more strict in Grace’s absence than when she was home, but he wasn’t abusing it. He just didn’t have Grace there to override him putting his foot down. Hazel hated THAT, but he didn’t care about certain other things, like she got to hang out with her friends longer, stay out later, and stay up later. Grace was a little more about her keeping a certain structure, which was fine a few years ago, but now it was unnecessary to Hazel and fortunately, Simon didn’t care because it was summer. So long as she was upfront about what she was doing and checked in, he was pretty chill. BUT, if she went outside of the boundaries, he was VERY strict. Almost like he felt betrayed. She hated to make him feel that way. They worked out well, though. At the end of the day, they were always friends again.

Grace noted that they had a few inside jokes and stuff while they were at lunch. People kept looking at the trio, in their fancy dress at this little burger dive. A few people came to see if they could get autographs and stuff. Grace was pretty open to that, even when it was uncomfortable. Simon reflexively wanted to step in, but she would brush it off and give him a look to ask him not to, so he gathered his sense of territory and possessiveness and choked it down. He didn’t have consent to defend…

Then… Something else happened. They were getting ready to get into the car and someone rushed up on them for an autograph. Simon would have been impressed with his quick reflexes if it didn’t go so… terribly infuriating…

He stopped the person in their tracks and they threw their hands up, and said that they just wanted a photo with Grace. Simon let go of the guy’s collar and looked at Grace. Hazel had her hand over her heart. Apparently Simon wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the Flashlike fan. “You okay, Haze?” he asked.

She was breathing hard and staring at the man. Grace stooped down to get on her level. “She’s fine,” the man said. “Could I get a photo?” Grace took a deep breath, ignoring him and repeated her question to Hazel. She wasn’t sure why her baby girl was reacting so intensely. Sure, it could be that this motherfucker came out of nowhere, but also… she could have known him from before, because they were in the same area they used to live, OR she might have had something recently happen that made this spook her today. WHATEVER the case, Grace was concerned and trying to talk to her. “I’ll just get a photo and leave you to it.”

“Chill,” Simon warned. He was getting pissed at this person and also worried about Hazel, because she still hadn’t responded. The guy scoffed and Simon clenched his fist. Realign your patience, Simon. Realign.

“Haze?” Grace repeated. Hazel took a deep breath and nodded.

“Sorry. He scared me. I’m fine.”

“Told you she was fine,” the dude said, really annoyed. Simon bit his lip and was practically digging holes into his palms with the balls that were his fists.

Grace wrapped an arm around Hazel and politely told the man, “I’m not currently taking photos. We just stopped to eat and we have to get back to something.” She was now too upset to take a photo. This was her boundary.

She opened the car door for Hazel and the man said, “Ugh, you were signing stuff inside, I saw you.”

Simon stepped in front of him and reiterated, “Yeah, but she told you no, so I advise you to step away from Grace and her daughter. You’ve already startled her and were extremely insensitive about it. You didn’t even apologize to her.”

“She said she was fine, just like I said.”

“She also is clearly not fine, and you, as a grown man should have been keen to it and respectful of that, especially considering that YOU were the one asking for something!” Simon’s canines were bared and Grace had to admit… she was not against seeing this Simon emerge again… not in this situation, at least.

“That’s not even her real daughter…” CRACK! Hazel called Simon’s name. He didn’t hear her. He had taken that balled up fist that he had been tempering and connected it to that man’s jaw. Grace held Hazel back and said softly, “Maybe cover your eyes, Baby.” Because she wasn’t gonna interfere. Simon looked at the man after he had punched him onto the pavement and some people had gathered. Then, he remembered! He turned towards Grace and Hazel, worried that he had just royally screwed up. Hazel’s face was alight with amusement and Grace’s alight with… something else.

“It just snapped…” He explained.

“It’s okay. We all mess up, right MOM?” Hazel asked, smiling at Simon.

“Yeah, Haze, but he didn’t mess up. Sometimes, people deserve it.” She took Simon’s swinging hand in hers as the ex-fan rushed off crying and complaining about pressing charges. “Let’s get back to my folks so I can tend to this.” She kissed his hand and smiled at him. He smiled back, swelling with pride. Hazel took his other hand and kissed it. These two hand kisses were very separate and different things. But, both mattered to him more than anything in the world.

“I lost my patience, but i don’t feel bad. Nobody’s gonna hurt either of you, as long as I’m there. You ARE Grace’s REAL daughter.”

“I know that, Simon. I’m yours too,” she said with the casual shrug of her shoulders, but he knew that it was a huge thing for Hazel to say such a thing.

.

Simon got to hold the and he was extremely enchanted. "Grace! He's so beautiful. Oh my God. He looks just like YOU!"

Mrs. Monroe offered, "Or, he looks like ME? Grace got her beautiful genetics from me."

"Yes, Mrs. Monroe. You look like Grace, too," he said, not turning away from the baby in his arms. She frowned and folded her arms. "Grace, if we have a baby, I hope they look just like Monty!"

"His name isn't Monty," Mrs. Monroe said. "It's Montanus. It means mountainous. He's the highest point of my life."

"Wow, Mom. Screw me then, huh?" Grace joked. This kid really WAS precious.

Mrs. Monroe said, "You put me through months of HELL, and quite frankly depression and misery. But… after a very long and painful journey pity of my body, we looked at each other and I felt like seeing your face delivered me from all of the worst of all of that. I'd been given grace, and I told your father after he snuck that hideous photo of me gawking at you that would be your name. We were going to call you Soleil. Like the Sun. But, I met you and I said, No. This is my Grace." Mrs. Monroe cupped Grace's chin and Grace smiled while Simon's eyes watered.

"That's a beautiful story." He nuzzled Grace with his nose and whispered, "I can't wait until we have a beautiful birth story."

"You certainly CAN wait," Mrs. Monroe said and eyed him up and down.

"So, you put Grace in THAT dress and let me look at THIS baby and you think I'm NOT going to think about knocking her up?"

"He's joking. We don't even do that,"Grace said.

"Doesn't mean I'm joking. LOOK at him, Grace. This has got to be the most beautiful baby that has ever lived!"

Grace scoffed, "Um. No. I'm sure that was me as a baby."

"I don't know… I can't imagine any baby ever looking more adorable than this one." He shook his head and looked at him, then pulled him close to hold against himself.

He heard Mrs. Monroe whisper, "I think he thinks he's ready for one." He shut his eyes to listen to the infant breathe. He… hadn't held a baby since he had been helped in holding Hope when he was a little boy. He'd had a similar reaction to her… but he didn't know what she looked like anymore and he didn't even have feelings for her anymore. He remembered her as someone who was lost way too soon, someone that he accidentally hurt, someone who would remind him to always handle the innocent with extra care. "I would kill for you," he whispered and kissed Montanus'" head. For his own. For Hazel. For Grace.

Grace wondered, "Can I hold him?" The way that he was feeling about this baby… He didn’t want to let him go… but then again, Grace was still not wanting kids and Simon rationalized that holding “Monty” was gonna change that for her, so he reluctantly handed him over in the hopes that she might be swayed. “Wow…” She said staring into big brown eyes, like her own but more bright and full of wonder. He reached out for her and she let him hold her finger. “Okay. I absolutely want one,” she joked. Simon smiled. He knew the feeling, even though he also knew that SHE didn’t really mean it. She did have a point, they still hadn’t actually had sex. They had… done a lot. Very gradually over the past year and a half, but not that and she seemed to get anxious whenever things approached it. Simon always stopped and confirmed whether or not she wanted to do more. That out that he gave her, she always took it. It was why he kept checking. He worried that if he didn’t, she might just go along with things, and that could be something else to resent him for down the line. Affirmative consent. It was a small price to pay to keep the amount of trust that HAD been rebuilt intact, and maybe someday it would pay off.

Someday was closer than he’d thought. They eventually surrendered that baby back to his parents and Hazel, not wanting to cry jealousy, but feeling a way retired to her room to meditate and write before bed.

Simon and Grace retired to her room, afterwards. “I am lovesick with baby fever,” Grace said. He was on her like prey, with his hands sliding up her sides and his nose tracing her neck. “Slow down, Gray Eyes,” she said with a chuckle, looking at them in the vanity mirror. How many times had they looked at themselves in that mirror when they were younger? It was never like this… They didn’t even look the same to her. They didn’t feel the same, but somehow, everything was all coming back to her, just being in here, with him.

The good and the bad. Luckily, she would be able to say goodbye early in the morning and not see him for a couple of weeks. Tonight could just be… fun. She tried to push out the old thoughts, the old fights, the old Grace and Simon. They were Simon and Grace before The Apex and they had become another Grace and Simon.  New and improved.

“This dress really isn’t helping in the “slow down” department.”

“I’ve gained a little weight,” she said, a little self consciously.

“Mmm hmm,” he said, appraisingly, tracing but not touching the curves of her cleavage. She hadn’t given him permission. Simon was very disciplined, now. Very diligent in not crossing any boundaries, but he certainly danced the fine line.

“Will you please help me out of this dress?” She whispered, not taking her eyes off of the obediently trained blond man in her mirror.

“Yes, ma’am.” He carefully unclasped the back and slowly unzipped, revealing each inch of her skin with utmost reverence and full throttle desire, contained, but entirely visible as she studied his face. She stepped out of the dress and carefully placed it aside. He noted that specifically, because he remembered how she used to just toss them on the floor. He was making more and more notes of how much more thoughtful she was about her things and surroundings. “Grace?”

“Yes, Simon?” she was cleaning off her makeup, still in her undergarments and halo crown.

“I just wanted to thank you for letting me back in. I know that it takes a very big person to be able to do that and I’m grateful that you’re so big of a person and I’m also proud of you. You’ve changed a lot in a lot of ways that I tried to stop before, because I was scared that you’d outgrow me and leave me behind if you came to be this bigger person. I’m glad that I’ve realized that becoming a better you was exactly what type of person who could give me another chance. It makes me want to be a bigger, better person. It makes it easy for me to be good, and I’ve realized that I do it for you, but also for myself. I feel better, and I just want you to know that you’ve done so much towards that.”

She wanted to make a joke about how he must’ve really wanted some tonight to be spilling all of this, but he was so genuine, she was entirely too touched. Between that and his protecting Hazel earlier, not to mention Hazel claiming him?

She set her cloth down, turned around and kissed him. No other response was needed.

The kissing grew, she didn’t break apart while they carefully made their way to the bed and… well… it wasn’t really a discussion or a question. The time had come. Simon opened his mouth to confirm that she was sure and she silenced him with her lips while she took off his clothes.

At every point that he wanted to ask her for permission, she took initiative while simultaneously kissing him to stop the question. If she thought too hard about it, if he asked her about it, she would think too hard about it - If she thought too hard about it, it might never happen.

At some point, she began crying. Simon panicked. He tried to pull out, but she clasped him tightly with her legs and held on to him, sobbing into his ear. Were they happy tears, or had he made a mistake? It was fucking with him. “Grace?” he whispered, slowing down, at least. She urged her hips to make him speed back up and he started crying too. “I don’t know if I’m doing something wrong!” he whimpered, terrified of her tears right now.

“Does… it mean something to you, Simon?” She asked in an insecure voice that he hadn’t heard in so long that he forgot how she sounded when she wasn’t sure of herself.

He lifted his head to look her in the eyes, moving her chin to face him so that she couldn’t avoid it.

“Everything. It means everything to me, Grace. You mean everything to me.”

She sobbed and began to move her hips again, somehow holding on even tighter to him. “Never let me go again. Never push me away.”

“I promise. I won’t. I swear on my life.”

She’d mentioned before that her period was that weekend, but she wasn’t on it. The stress of touring probably knocked her off of her schedule. At any rate, she wasn’t one it, as she had planned to be. That worked out perfectly for Simon that night, but he wasn’t even thinking about those details at the moment. He had to spend the rest of the night making sure that she knew things wouldn’t be like they had been before.

A couple of weeks later when she came home from the tour, Hazel and Simon had her welcome home party under way. It was lowkey - just the 3 of them and the cat. Simon cooked everyone’s faves, and they didn’t ask tour questions. Hazel kept using “Mom” and “Dad,” despite the official paperwork. Grace felt super at ease, considering.

“Hey… We have to talk about something, as a family…” Hazel and Simon looked at each other, both a little worried, as she sounded super serious out of nowhere. Did something happen to her on the tour? Were they about to have to kick somebody’s ass? What was she about to say?? “I have an announcement…” She took a deep breath and took something that she had on her person out.

Simon gasped and got up to rush over. Hazel asked, “What is that?? What’s the announcement??”

Simon took both of Grace’s hands and searched her face, “What do you want to do? You know I’ll support anything. If you aren’t ready, I understand…”

“UNDERSTAND WHAT?? WHAT IS THAT, MOM???”

“I’m ready,” Grace told Simon, then to Hazel, “Mom’s… having a kid…” She winced, unsure of how Hazel was going to feel about a bio on the horizon. She SCREAMED. “OMG! Lindsay and Lucy are gonna be JEALOUS. SO JEALOUS! Lindsay thinks her kinkajou is SOOOO cool… and it is, but I’m gonna have a SIBLING! Oh… unless we’re being quiet?”

“For a while. I’m still… taking it all in…” Grace said. She looked at Simon. She was scared shitless.

“I’m going to do whatever you need.”

“I know. I trust you with my life.” He smiled brighter than anything she had ever seen. She collected Hazel and him, “Both of you.”

Next

[artificialqueens]

There's No One There, 4/9 (Group Fic) - Marmalade

Summary: One student missing multiple classes without warning can be explained away but when more girls start disappearing, it can’t be dismissed. Jaida, Jackie, Gigi, and Crystal may not be friends but if it’s to figure out what’s going on, they’re willing to work together.

A/N: I have an estimation of how many chapters this will be now, woo! This is a soft estimation though, I have a feeling some of the chapters coming up may run long so I’ll split them if they do.

The wonderful thing about the weekend was that uniforms were not require and students were free to wear their personal clothes. It was almost jarring to see how different some of the girls were in their personal lives from their uniforms, everything felt just a little bit closer to the normal high school experience. The weekend also brought another special treat that every girl at the school looked forward to- the freedom to go into town.

A bus ran on Saturday and Sunday, dropping off any girl who signed herself out to do as she pleased and then came back to pick them up in the afternoon, any girl who missed the pickup and drop off was in for tough luck as the bus didn’t wait.

Crystal had quickly scribbled her name on the sign out sheet before running down to the bus stop, she was late as is from trying to pick out what she was going to wear. The bus was crowded as Crystal stepped on, she couldn’t see Widow among the faces but it was entirely possible that Widow was on the other bus and Crystal brushed the feeling off.

As they pulled into town and the girls disembarked, Crystal waited to see Widow getting off of one of the two buses until the stream of girls came to an end. Crystal probably just over looked her, and made her way to the roller rink where they usually hung out, it was the closest they could get to a nightclub without fake IDs Widow would always joke. Widow wasn’t there either so Crystal waited, her anxiety building as the minutes ticked on.

-

 Jaida was only somewhat certain she had the right dorm when she knocked on the door, but she had the confidence to walk away and not think about her mistake for the next ten years of her life if she did get wrong. Luckily, she wasn’t wrong and Jackie opened the door.

“Girl, glad I caught you. You left your pencil case in the sewing room and I knew if I waited ‘til class I’d forget it.”

“Oh, thanks! I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to remember where I left it!” Jackie took the pencil case from Jaida before she stepped back into her neatly arranged dorm, knowing exactly which desk drawer to open with an empty space that her pencil case perfectly slotted into. Once everything was in its place, Jackie went back to adjusting her hijab and slung her bag over her shoulder. Her eyes fall on her jewelry stand on her way out, she deliberated for a moment before grabbing the glossy cheshm nazar and putting it around her neck. Jackie didn’t consider herself a superstitious person but after the last few days it felt nice to have a good luck charm.

“You’re cutting it awfully close, Jackie. The buses are gonna leave without you if you don’t get moving.”

“I know! I know! I couldn’t find the scarf I wanted to wear so I ended up changing my whole outfit. Are you going on the bus trip today?” Jackie asked as she finally stepped out of her dorm, locking it behind her.

“I wish,” Jaida exhaled. “-but I still have an essay to finish. Maybe I’ll go tomorrow and if you’re going tomorrow, we can meet up or something.”

“The two of us hanging out without any conspiracy theories pulling us together? I’m shocked.” Grins tugged on both girls’ faces and they let out laughs.

“Look, yeah, that wasn’t the best, we don’t need all that stress in our lives but I didn’t hate being around you or Gigi or Crystal and I don’t see why we gotta stop hanging out just because we’re not going around like we’re detectives anymore.”

“Yeah, I’d like that-“ The ringing of a bell cut Jackie off, signifying that it was the final warning for anyone who wanted to go into town, Jackie pointed her thumb over her shoulder and nodded towards the hall. “That’s my cue. Get an A on that essay, make me proud, Jaida!” The two girls waved goodbye and went their separate ways, Jackie to the bus stop, Jaida to the library.  

The library was almost completely empty, the librarian had his nose in a book and didn’t react to Jaida as she entered. She set up her work station at a large mahogany table in the center of the library, the only other person there was another student at the far end. Her shoulders were hunched as she poured words into her journal at an incredible rate. It took a moment before Jaida could place a name to the face but eventually, she came up with Aiden, a quiet classmate that Jaida didn’t know super well who didn’t acknowledge her when Jaida made a polite hello.

Twenty minutes went by dreadfully slow, the school boasted an incredibly well kept collection of the building’s history through photo albums and reference books but Jaida found the collection to be several books short, forcing her to dig through the library cards to find another book on what was happening in the area during the Mexican-American War. More and more Jaida was regretting her decision to not be a procrastinator.

About an hour later, Jaida was making steady progress on her essay when her pencil broke. She looked around but realized that she didn’t bring a pencil sharpener with her.

“Psst,” Jaida whispered to the other girl. Aiden’s posture had not changed since Jaida had sat down at the table, while she had been preoccupied with her own project, she could not recall if Aiden had taken a break from her rapid writing once. “Aiden, do you have a sharpener I can borrow?”

Aiden said nothing, did not raise her head to look at Jaida, she didn’t even slow her writing. Jaida rolled her eyes and got up from the table to go seek out the sharpener mounted on the wall, obscured by the rows of books. As Jaida turned to walk back to the table, she could have sworn she saw someone turn the corner, catching for the briefest moment of a long unfamiliar skirt. Jaida shivered and wondered if the air had suddenly kicked on, following the figure. Jaida turned the corner and there was another brief flash of movement and Jaida quickened her pace to try and catch it this time. She turned on to another row of books and jumped back.

It was only Aiden standing there, staring intently at a few books of poetry and Jaida let out a wheeze as she clapped her hand over her chest.

“Oh, you scared me!”

 Jaida let out a small laugh but Aiden still said nothing, not even looking at her. Jaida’s smile went away and she put her hands on her hips. “You know, even an ‘I’m busy right now’ right now would be nice.” Still, nothing. Jaida spun on her heels and walked away back to the table. No sooner than Jaida had returned to her chair and turned the page of her book did she hear a shriek and then the sound of books tumbling to the ground. The librarian slammed his book closed and bolted to where the shriek had come from, Jaida couldn’t help herself from doing the same.

There stood Aiden atop a pile of books as she pulled pages from one book’s spine, looking far more animated than Jaida had ever seen her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The librarian demanded and suddenly Aiden froze, her breath was quick and shallow, her eyes darted around before they settled on the book in her hands. She dropped it and stepped back.

“I- I- I d-“ The librarian didn’t care much about her explanation, already hooking his hand over her arm to march her straight to the principal’s office, ranting about as they left about how she just destroyed a classic. Jaida stood there bewildered at what just happened, mouth agape. She knelt down to examine the books, all collections of poems from different writers, the one Aiden had ripped into being a very old copy of poems from the romantic era.

Jaida wasn’t sure what to make of it, especially since she knew Jackie and Crystal were in town. Jaida had no idea where Gigi was but she hadn’t seen her all morning. So, for the time being Jaida went back to the table and noted that the librarian hadn’t made Aiden collect any of her things. She went over and grabbed the girl’s backpack from under her chair, sliding the girl’s belongings into it. When she reached for the journal, however, Jaida’s hand hovered in the air.

She didn’t mean to look, she really didn’t but it was only now that she could see what Aiden had been writing. It was a twisting mess of scribbled writing, fragmented pieces of couplets that made no sense, smudged by a hand passing over it so many times. Every bit of it was erratic and trying to find a method to the madness felt like a fool’s errand. Jaida fought with herself internally, the last few minutes set off so many red flags for her that she couldn’t decide how deeply she needed to throw herself back into drama.

Finally, Jaida swore and slid the journal into the backpack. She wasn’t about to make the long journey from the library to the headmaster’s office to drop the backpack off, and then walk all the way back to the library again so she simply tucked it away by the librarian’s desk, purposefully a little obscured but close enough that she could say that it was his fault for not seeing it.

[kingspoetrysoc]

Interview with Dan Bisset

Dan Bisset is an Irish first-year Classical Studies with English BA student at King’s. They wear a lot of hats: Dan is a poet, writer, actor, musician, singer and a social justice activist. They have proudly taken on the title of SJW and attempt to reclaim that name. Dan is currently working on a poetry cycle entitled Whole New World in conjunction with the King’s module Writing Race, Writing Gender. The poems in the collection are self-published and can be found at their Instagram @danbpoetry. The King’s Poet’s Jaylen Simons talks to Dan about their writing and how they are finding their voice through poetry.

How did you come to write poetry, and what are your feelings about it?

This is a difficult question. Poetry has invariably always been a big part of my life. I’ve been playing music since I was three, so rhythm and musicality have always been pretty natural to me. I started with Irish Traditional Music, which has a distinct amount of rhythm to it since it’s primarily dance music. It has various time signatures, rhythmic patterns and metres, and I think growing up with this musicality has impacted me strongly. Words and lyrics came later, and I think from my engagement with singing in a church choir. Church was all about music for me – I’m not religious – so being enveloped in the music and Lyric in different languages especially, really impacted me. The day I first decided to write poetry – as opposed to lyrics for music –  was the first day I posted to my Instagram, November 2019.

Poetry comes in little pieces. As I go through life, I collect fragments and bits of inspiration and mash them together, adapting and improvising when necessary for the writing. I write from experience and from things that resonate with me. Recently I’ve tried to write and sit down and come up with ideas – it’s worked for my Whole New World cycle; writing to deadline and submission. My journey started with moments of insomniatic inspiration as a result of quarantine and the exhaustion I was feeling.

That makes me think of Ruth Stone, and what she’s said about poetry being out there and something that has to be committed to the page and controlled on the line, or it’s gone. Is there anything from your modules that has inspired or guided your writing? 

Absolutely! I think about things I want to write, thinking that it can be a poem, but that I need the right tools. I started with an idea 99% of the time, or I’ll see something in the street or anywhere and think it would be a good title. In the Whole New World cycle I've been experimenting and playing with my studies. The cycle is specifically for this poetry for the Writing Race, Writing Gender module in English. We looked at Charles Bernstien’s experiments in writing to push ourselves. I took that on and made some poetry I’m very proud of. Being able to submit my poetry for grading – something I do as a hobby has been a dream come true! If we were allowed to do that for all assignments, I would.

Can you tell me a bit more about Whole New World? How has that been for you?

It has been emotional. As a trans person, it’s forced me to look inward and question my own beliefs, both as a poet and as a person. For example, when you say ‘trans woman’, what do you think of? Who are the people that come to mind? Who are the people that should come to mind that maybe don’t? Writing has given me a type of agency; the pen is mightier than the sword. Who is going to inspire me and has inspired me throughout my life? I have also had to represent a beautiful, multifaceted, multicultural community and do that in a tactful and nuanced way and make sure I’m not overstepping. In Track 9, for example – the title taken from Solange’s Don’t Touch My Hair – I wrote about the beauty of trans hair; Munroe Bergdorf, an English model and trans activist; and Emma Dabiri, an Irish-Nigerian writer. I had to consider the double meaning that hair has for women of colour. I also considered my own relationship with my hair and worked with titles taken from YouTube when you put in ‘trans hair’.

In terms of the poetry I write, Whole New World was a way for me to unpack a lot of the gender trouble I was having. Quarantine has been a time of self-discovery and the time when I came out to myself. I was also thinking a lot about SOPHIE – the late Scottish musician – and her music, and its direct affect on me. Whole New World has taught me about the trans person I want to be, for and on the behalf of other people. Through my writing I’ve also had to reconcile my identity as an Irish person, especially as we are starting to lose our connection to our culture. I’ve also had to think about being an immigrant and coming to the UK, a place that traditionally has been hostile to Irish people. My poetry has been a catharsis for me and my trauma and a way for me to articulate things. Whole New World has been a way to also think about happiness as well.

Do you have any tips for writers and for writing poetry?

The Notes app on your phone is going to be your best friend. I’ve mostly written through the Notes app, or digitally. I also screenshot what I write so I can come back to it and work on it further later. I write, review and then either refine the piece and post, or I’ll reuse any ideas for other projects and poems. Poetry can be written anywhere – the District Line, the doctor’s office. No matter how mundane or beige a poem may seem... Write it down! You never know if it could be used to form a wonderful tapestry of work. If you also write about things that interest you, you’ll never run out of things to write. Basically, write about things you enjoy and make a conscious effort to write down the things you enjoy. You can also take whatever image you have in your head and subvert it. If you’re thinking about a bird in a tree, tell the story from the point of view of the branch, not the bird. Play with the normal and make it extraordinary. 

You share work via social media and have a poetry Instagram, @danbpoetry. What do you think about Instapoetry and self-publication?

I think the digestible nature of it is interesting. It can also be insidious – like for example, Rupi Kaur taking the work of another poet. I don’t post all of my work, I save some of it and may use some of my work for other projects in the future. I’d love to self-publish even one copy of Whole New World – possibly more depending on interest.

I think there are definite benefits to using social media. Instagram was first designed as a catalogue and archival space. Instagram has been changed obviously with the rise of influencers and things. I primarily use it as a way to document my poetry so that I can go back and look at my work and how it’s developed. It’s also a great way to share poetry generally, in a lowkey way. Instapoetry is always accessible and people can view it in their own time. They are also more likely to engage and respond and give feedback too because of this.

Our generation and young people generally have a totally different view of poetry now – it’s all very academic and its definitions are more stringent. Having poetry online offers another view, one that maybe isn’t so geared towards Shakespearian sonnets or the poetry of the Victorians for example. The writing has changed too so we don’t necessarily think about writing in a strict metre and rhyme. Narrative for me has become very important, as has telling stories in a substantial and tangible way  – as substantial as writing on a screen can be! The poetry is also shorter; my poetry is usually on one slide.  I think about if that’s important and about how it will look visually on my feed. At the same time posting to Instagram means you can disregard the branding and the form, and how strict poetry has become, and focus on the writing and writing lots – writing with passion! Poetry can just be poetry. The abolition of poetic forms really excites me. Why would I not want to try something new? 

Things change, attitudes change and approaches to writing change and that’s okay. Your writing style can evolve. That’s part of the beauty of Instagram actually, archiving your work there and seeing the physical change in your poetry. It’s important to me that I don’t keep changing my work, and to keep this journey of mine intact  – as cliche as that sounds. Keeping it genuine. It’s important to look at narrative especially.

What are your thoughts of writing as an Irish person and even on Seamus Heaney, and Joyce?

Heaney is tough, and I say that with as much love as I can as an Irish person. He is THE poet of Ireland in my opinion – you can talk about Keats, you can talk about Wilde but I think that Heaney is great. Irish people know Heaney for his poems about the Irish spirit, for example Digging or Mid-term Break, rather than his adaptations of Archaic texts such as his Beowulf. Heaney’s work is more than Beowulf, which I think is a testament to how writing changes. We can see this in Heaney. He did not only write a version of Beowulf, taking inspiration from the ancient world and from history like a type of Ulysses-Joyce figure; he also wrote about peeling potatoes as well – a universal Irish spirit if you ask me. His work is also so very evocative and meaty. Mid-term Break for example changes your expectations: “Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,  Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple, He lay in the four-foot box as in his cot. No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear. A four-foot box, a foot for every year.” 

We expect the poem to be about a big strong man but it’s actually about a 4 year old kid. I bawled when I first heard it. It definitely speaks to this subversion of expectation.

You study Classics and English like me (!) so I wondered what you think about it – studying the two together? Classical writers like Homer and Ovid are doing this same thing with changing approaches to poetry. Would you mind discussing that further as well?

Absolutely, Classics and English go so well together; I wish more universities offered it. I knew when I was making my applications that I had to study both together. Studying the two together is so engaging. Homer was absolutely changing ideas in his day. I find nothing better than a reworking of ancient texts, be it feminist or queer, or any other lens of reading – I love it! Homer is a transgressive; it’s a thought provoking image. How he transcended everything – literature, philosophy, art etc. Homer was the Lady Gaga of his day, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing his influence, he basically invented the idea of the polis – in literature – single handedly. I just think classical literature has so much to offer us, as does classical poetry. Things like the elegiac love poetry of Sappho have just as much angst as poetry does today. 

[vasilinaorlova]

letter to scientific adviser

Hi, C.!

I think every my conversation with you brings new insights. Today it was illuminating, even though brief.

I will tell you what I have now, regarding my exams:

I do have a draft of a syllabus for a grad course structured around ruins. I did it as an exercise in the M. F.'s course Supervised Teaching in Anthropology. This has to be reviewed, definitely, because it has been a while ago and my understanding of the theme advanced, but it will serve as a starting point of my work with J.

I do have a ten-pages bibliography of books centered around ruins, ruination, nostalgia, and empire. 126 positions in total, with a grand chunk of which I am familiar quite well. However, I did not read every single book or article in the list, nor does this list contain my newest read material, so I would have to add, to work through it, and to familiarize myself with things I am not yet familiar.

I have an annotated bibliography as well, which contains 5 pages in total, and was prepared by me for the course of C. S. on (...) writing--this annotated bibliography also could be updated and re-adjusted. It is a shortened version of the bibliography mentioned above, only with an explanation for each position why this particular piece is included (that is to say, the main argument of each work is recapitulated).

I want to remind you that I did an annotated bibliography on dams’ construction, which I composed by your request during the summer of 2014. Every day throughout that summer I went through one article or book, and reviewed them--I think this document serves as an additional bibliography, and I would like to review or at least to reread it at some point to refresh it in my memory in order to prepare better for the fieldwork and for the exams.

I have the project with which we are working with you, on Bratsk dam and Russian literature, and, although it is tangentially related to ruins, as you noted today, on the other hand it might end up being most pertinent to my future work in the region. As K. said to me two days ago, "your field might surprise you," and I can see the center of the research drifting towards not just ruins in the broader sense, but to ruins infrastructural, which would demand some more reading on infrastructure (Brian Larkin, Caroline Humphrey, and AbdouMaliq Simone will be the first to look at--again, I am familiar with their work, but I might benefit from revising).

I have the "Debris of Utopia" project, to which you referred as "the piece on ruins," but if my goal is mastering the current discourse on ruins, I don't want to focus on this insurmountable project of 200 pages just now. I might, as I told you, write a sort of introduction to it which would have a theoretical character.

I have an article which I revised twice and did not present yet, that I initially wrote for C. H.'s class, which is titled "Pervasive Affect: Circulation of Nostalgia in the Siberian Zones of Abandonment," where in the first part I summarize the current debate on what affect is, and it is reflected in the bibliography. I then analyze what nostalgia might mean in the Siberian places dispossessed of the state care. A big part of this writing is a linguistic analysis of an oral history recorded in Anosovo in 2013--essentially, a story of relocation told by an elderly person.

As you know I have my field notes from Moscow and Siberia, but I do not think it is the time to be working with them--not until my second round of fieldwork, whether it'll be another preliminary summer fieldwork, or a year-round fieldwork if I end up getting a grant.

I do have a piece about ruins and photography, which might be greatly enriched with theory. In fact I am planning to present this piece at the New Directions in Anthropology this year, because it has been my desire to return to it and to re-work it.

I am also going to present on the incoming Linguistic conference at UT, the piece on two words--poshlost' and byt'. This piece is about "untranslatable words and incompatible worlds," and traces the circulation of these words. I use Svetlana Boym's work there in particular on both these words.

And the full disclosure, I also have a 500-page file, the content of which I once printed and brought to you, perhaps you remember. This file consists of fragments that I wrote, quotations, observations of I think anthropological character, but also it contains my disorderly writing on Nabokov (out of which I carved an article for the Linguistic conference at UT last year); reflections on my own change of language, reflections on the nature of writing itself, on American malls and how they suffer from decrepitude; on selfies and digital identities (Derrida thinks self-portrait is a ruin), etc., etc. Again I extracted out of it the piece on robots for the AAA conference which I am very happy you attended.

I continue thinking about visual essay on Siberia and the handwritten album that you advised and inspired me to do and that I showed you this winter. It still contains the same 6 pages. (I found it is a slow project, and one page takes me a full day.) I have the handwriting that I have already done typed, including the captions, and it might eventually serve as the beginning of the visual essay. But as much as I like this project, I suspect I might particularly enjoy finishing it over the course of the summer in Siberia.

This is not counting all other projects I've been doing in the last two and a half years ever since I got accepted to the program. The account of these projects is below.

(The list below does not include my Russian publications, although I wonder, why? Oushakine does include his Russian publications--I might certainly do the same. Mine are few (three or four), but they went out in good peer-review journals. My publications in Russian are not anthropological in the Western sense but they are ethnographic. I quote Katie Stewart in one of them. They have a strong literary bent, but they are not fiction).

So the list is below.

To conclude, in this email you have the fullest account up to date of what I have been doing as of late.

Best, V.

P.S. I do not mention my creative projects here, both in Russian and in English, mainly poetry, but also prose--I think it is best if I am more or less reserved about them in academia. But I still want to share with you that I am thrilled that my new book of poetry in English has just came out, it is titled "Holy Robots." I, of course, noticed the "like" that you awarded me with on Instagram in connection to this miraculous event. XX copies of it are sold on Amazon in two days; this modest number, as funny as it is, is actually a great number for a poetry book.

Writings, Presentations, and Talks

2016    “Ryzyka: A Curated Conversation”  Visual Essay. Cultural Anthropology. In co-authorship with Irina Oktiabrskaya, Valery Klamm, and Craig Campbell

2016    “Archeology of the Robotics: Remnants of Soviet Robots.“ Talk. November 19th. 115th Annual Meeting of the American Anthropological Association. Minneapolis, Minnesota

2016    “Robot as a Subject (Object) of Ethnographic Study.“ Invited lecture. October 14. Introduction to Cultural Anthropology. University of Texas at Austin [Video]

2016    “Russian Literature on Bratsk Dam: the Human in People-Altered Landscapes of Soviet Industrialization.” Presentation. September 25. “The Extra-Human” 13th Annual Graduate Conference in Comparative Literature. University of Texas at Austin [Audio]

2016    “Russia, USA, and the Islamic World: Multiplicity of Feminisms.” Talk. Feminist Society ONA (“She”). Moscow, August 14

2016    “Austin Old-Timer and Newcomer.” The End of Austin, 24th of May.

2016    “Writer’s Change of Language: Nabokov and Others.” Symposium on Language and Society. University of Texas at Austin, April 15

2016    “ISIS: Use of Atrocity in State Formation.” Invited Lecture, Expressive Culture. University of Texas at Austin, April, 6

2016    “ISIS: Active Ruination and Performativity of Public Execution.” New Directions in Anthropology Conference, University of Texas at Austin, April 1

2016    “Late Soviet Childhood.” Futures and Ruins Workshop at Duke University, March 25

2016    “Pussy Riot: The Contest of Performances and Political Affect.” Utopia and Reality: Latin America Confronting Globalization. Gender and Feminisms. University of Texas at Austin, March 3

2015    “On Methods in Socio-cultural Anthropology: Production of Ethnography Through Observation, Recollection, and, Occasionally, Forgetting.” Invited Talk. Center for Russian, East European and Eurasian Studies at University of Texas at Austin, October 21

2015    “Debris of Utopia: Reflection on Ruination in the USSR and Post-Soviet Spaces.” Presentation. New Directions in Anthropology Conference, the University of Texas at Austin, March 27-28

2014    “Grackles and Old Cars,” The End of Austin, 22nd of May.

2014    Russian Language in the New World. Talk. Society of Social and Religious Studies, Moscow, Russia

[clios-purls]

I was tagged by @biscuit-drivels thank you so much!! five things you’ll find in my bag 1. A bag of tissues because I am a serial sneezer. Everyone asks if I’ve got a cold but I usually don’t - its just how my nose is! Also tissues always come in handy.

2. A notebook. So I can write things down. Its currently got reading lists and poetry fragments and an entire novel that my mum and I plotted out on the train once using the station names for characters.

3. My diary/planner thing because I have the worst memory in the world and even with it I keep forgetting to do important things.

4. Paper and school folders that are bursting they’re so full of notes. I’m looking forward to the distant day when I don’t have to carry so much around and break my back all the time.

5. Sometimes, my latest knitting project, to keep my hands busy at a lunch time.

five things I’ve always wanted to do in life 1. Fall in love.

2. Fly a plane. Like a stunt plane. A strange thing for a girl who’s still a bit scared of heights to say, but something about gliding and soaring through the sky would be so freeing.

3. Be a re-enactor. Technically this shouldn’t count because I have been doing Medieval re-enactment for the past few years but my true love is early 20th century (and early 19th and late 19th and mid 20th) and one day I really hope to get the chance to be an elegant Edwardian lady in a grand old house for a weekend.

4. Travel. I used to dream of being an adventurer when I was a child - I think I’d watched too much Indiana Jones! These days its less of a dream but I still want to go exploring across Europe and see Morocco and Eygpt and Istanbul and more.

5. Go to university. Having grown up on tales of my parents’ adventures, it was always my goal and as of next (school) year (I’ll start in September), soon to be achieved.

five things I’m currently into 1. knitting. I’ve started my second pair of socks (ever) and its taken my ages to find a pattern that will fit but I love sitting there in the evenings with my family and a drama on tv, knitting quietly.

2. The Halcyon, itv. Its your regular period drama, its got love, intrigue, revenge plots, angst you name it. I love it.

3. Also in the vein of period dramas I literally just started watching ‘A Place To Call Home’ which is an Australian period drama and again, I adore it.

4. Vintage clothing. Circle skirts in particular. There’s just something so classy about a swishy skirt.

5. Every minute I don’t have to study. Which sadly is not right now. Oh well I’m going to finish this first.

five things on my to-do list 1. Survive prelims.

2. Get into the Uni of my dreams. I’ve got offers from other places but the one I want, not yet. I’m keeping all my fingers crossed.

3. Make my prom dress. I need to hurry up with that one but finding appropriate material at affordable prices is ridiculously impossible, especially given the fact that there is barely one habadashers near me that sells dressmaking fabric.

4. Learn to drive.

5. Be happy?

five things people may not know about me 1. My favourite colour is blue? I keep fiddling with my blog theme so its not that obvious anymore.

2. I wear glasses and I’m effectively as blind as a bat without them.

3. I’ve been wearing glasses since I was about 4 years old.

4. I was worn in Texas, although I’m British through and through. (Now living in Scotland)

5. I’m currently attempting to teach myself how to edit film (okay its with iMovie which is so easy and straight forward its a miracle) to put together a short film my friends and I made for my 1920s themed Birthday party last year.

i tag @stanzi-manzi @leoenjolras @loveofromance @dracogoestopigfarts7 @ultravhiolence

[hippieeloquent]

biography writing services tech companies list

10 Tips for Writing a Biography Crockett Johnson, "How to write a novel," illus. from Ruth Krauss's How to Make an EarthquakeAs we await a verdict from my editor about the official title in the book formerly known as The Purple Crayon and a Hole to Dig: The Lives of Crockett Johnson and Ruth Krauss (forthcoming 2012), I thought I’d share a few tips with any aspiring biographers available. Since I’ve only written one biography (albeit a double biography), you should needless to say go ahead and take these suggestions with a touch of suspicion. 1. Seek counsel from experts. Biographers Leonard Marcus (Margaret Wise Brown), Michael Patrick Hearn (L. Frank Baum, forthcoming), Judith Morgan (Dr. Seuss) all kindly answered my questions. For instance, Michael got me into editor Susan Hirschman, who knew (and edited) both Johnson and Krauss. In addition to putting me touching HarperCollins’ archivist, Leonard also informed me that scanning city directories (the predecessor to phone books) can help you hunt down where people lived. I’ve spent an unusual timeframe with a microfilm reader, perusing city directories for Manhattan, Queens, and Baltimore. 2. Ask lots of questions. You’ll need to learn much about subjects through which you’re not an expert. So, for example, Mathematics Professor Emeritus J. B. Stroud explained the math behind the paintings which Johnson devoted his final decade. In addition to venturing beyond your areas of expertise, you’ll also find out about research methods you didn’t know existed. For example, my former neighbor Jerry Wigglesworth (a legal professional) told me that any probated will would be on file in probate court. Acting on his advice, I obtained copies of Johnson’s and Krauss’s wills in the probate court in Westport, Connecticut. 3. Pick a subject who were built with a brief but interesting life. During the dozen years I worked on read., I’ve often thought: “ah, how wise of Leonard Marcus to write about Margaret Wise Brown. She only lived being 42!” In contrast, Crockett Johnson lived to get 68. Ruth Krauss lived to be 91. That’s lots of years to pay for! Of course, I’m partially kidding in regards to the ages of your subject (and I are aware that Brown’s early death had not even attempt to do with Leonard’s decision to write down her biography). It’s most critical that the subject be interesting to you: you’ll likely be spending 10 years of your life learning them. The length of a person’s life's less important, although it will affect just how long it will require one to complete the book. 4. Are there any autobiographical records? Choosing someone that wrote some autobiographical narrative of her or his own could make your daily life much easier - set up account proves only partially accurate, you would no less than have something to go on. Crockett Johnson lacked any autobiographical impulse; besides occasional remarks in interviews (ones there are hardly any), he left no first-person accounts of his life. Ruth, about the other hand, did talk about herself. She never wrote the full-length autobiography, but created a quantity of autobiographical fragments. For this reason, it’s much easier to get into a feeling of her inner life. 5. Don’t delay! Start today! If you are set on writing a biography, stop scanning this post and begin working on it at this time. I’m not hinting this since the process will need about 10 years. I’m letting you know this because those are likely to die. Of course, if you’re writing about somebody that died 100 or more years ago, the probability of finding living witnesses is very slim. But, if you’re writing about someone born recently, then get started! I was very fortunate to schedule an appointment Mischa Richter (New Yorker cartoonist and colleague of Johnson), A. B. Magil (one of New Masses’ editors inside the 1930s, as was Johnson), Syd Hoff (New Yorker cartoonist, children’s author, and New Masses cartoonist inside the 1930s), Mary Elting Folsom (children’s author, an affiliate Book and Magazine Union, also knew Johnson within the ’30s), Else Frank (Johnson’s sister), and a lot of other individuals that have since passed on. But I narrowly missed chatting with Kenneth Koch (whose poetry class Krauss took) and Hannah Baker (PM’s comics editor, who dealt with Johnson on Barnaby). Immediately after buying a reply from Ms. Baker, I tried phoning her - she’d invited me to call, but included no number. My attempts failed. I immediately wrote again. A month later, a form reply from her niece informed me that she’d passed on. My letter to Mr. Koch arrived your day he died. Shortly thereafter, I had this type of vivid dream that Mr. Koch was speaking with me (from beyond the grave!) that I got off the bed, able to take notes on our interview… and then realized, ahhh, right, I was dreaming. And I went back to bed. 6. Organize! In the dozen years I labored on this, I interviewed 84 people, investigated over three dozen archives and special collections, read everything authored by or about Crockett Johnson and Ruth Krauss, and consulted additional hundreds of articles and books. I looked over birth certificates, marriage certificates, census data, property deeds, wills, century-old insurance carrier maps, FBI files, photographs, and city directories for Baltimore, New York, Darien, Norwalk, and Westport, Connecticut. That’s lots of information to keep straight. Two parallel systems evolved. (1) Lots of file folders - both on the computer and within the physical world. In the physical world, as an illustration, an outside folder attended: each interviewee or else important person, reviews (this is actually two folders), biographical profiles and interviews, draft materials in connection with individual books, uncollected works (many file folders of Barnaby strips), census data, wills, and lots of more. I’ve 6 file drawers full of materials. And another three shelves full of printed work (books, magazines, etc). Oh, and a box brimming with audio cassettes (containing interviews). (2) A document I called “chronology.” It has three columns: Year, Life, Published Work. Here, for example, is surely an unusually brief entry (to the year 1937): Year Life Published Work 1937 RK not in Columbia University within the City of New York; Directory Number for that Sessions 1937-1938. Including Registration to November 1, 1937. Ruth Benedict is (p. 19).RK has adult measles, discovers Lionel’s infidelity, leaves Lionel.4 May: CJ at “New Masses party at Muriel Draper’s,” where he sees Donald Ogden Stewart make “a swell little talk on our [New Masses‘] behalf.” (Dave Johnson to Rockwell K., 11 May 1937 Rockwell Kent Papers, Smithsonian, Reel 5217, Frame 0971). New Masses. May 18: CJ is among Associate Editors. 14 Dec.: CJ is considered one of Editors. 9 Nov. (p. 2): CJ recognized as Art Editor.“Dutch Uncle with the Arts” (9 Nov. 1937): CJ overview of The Arts by Willem Hendrik van Loon (Simon & Schuster). I didn’t put my way through each year, but what I did invest there solved the problem locate events soon enough, gave me feeling of sequence. Some items are approximately located - the manuscript reflects the belief that the break-up of Krauss’s first marriage likely happened in 1938, but I neglected to factual that around the chronology document. 7. Leave No Stone Unturned… As you interview lots more people and visit more archives, you’ll build up a vast network of contacts, as well as a rich nexus of information. Pursue those leads! I drove to Denmark, Maine’s Camp Walden, an all-girls camp where Ruth Krauss spent two formative summers: there, I found her first published writing in the 1919 issue of Splash, the camp ground yearbook. I visited Staten Island in order to meet 67-year-old Thomas Hamilton, who as 7-year-old Tommy Hamilton starred as Barnaby within the 1946 stage production of Crockett Johnson’s comic strip. He had clippings as well as the entire unpublished script to the play, all of which he allow me to copy. 8. … Except for the Stones That You Leave Alone. At a certain point, you have to stop researching so that you can finish the novel. The research could be endless until you produce a conscious decision to curtail it. One approach to help retain the research process is always to start writing while researching. Doing so will help you to get a sense of the shape the book will in the end take. As you start out to glimpse the contours of the final volume, you’ll realized that - although interesting - you will find some leads that could be put away. 9. Learn to Write Narrative. Read plenty of biographies. Read “how to” books like Nigel Hamilton’s How to Do Biography: A Primer. Talk to creative writers and, if you can, have a creative writing course. (I was unable to please take a class, but I did consult creative writers.) I don't have any lessons in writing narrative or character … or creating any from the options that come with literary fiction. I did my best to write a magazine that's both scholarly and told a good story, but this is very challenging. Reading other non-fiction (especially biographies) and conversing with my creative-writing colleagues helped me work out how to try this. 10. Leap Before You Look. Finally, it might be necessary to forget much of what I’ve written here, and approach your task using a certain amount of ignorance. If you begin using a full understanding what you are engaging in, you do not start within the first place. Fortunately, should you be serious about writing a biography, nothing I’ve said here will deter you - because (1) difficulty is but a welcome challenge for the determined scholar, and (2) only by writing a biography is it possible to truly appreciate how enormous the project is. Even after scanning this post, aspiring biographers should nevertheless be sufficiently unaware thereby capable to approach their task with optimism. Writing a biography is often a painstaking, challenging, often plodding process. As the narrator of Anthony Trollope’s Barchester Towers laments, “It is to get regretted that no mental technique of daguerreotype or photography has yet been discovered, by which the characters in men can be reduced to writing and set into grammatical language with an erring precision of truthful description.” However, while he also notes, “such mechanical descriptive skill” would yield simply a “dull, dead, unfeeling, inauspicious likeness.” In other words, difficulty is really a necessary a part of rendering your life: “There is not any royal way to learning; no short cut for the acquirement of the valuable art. […] There is no way of writing well plus of writing easily.”1 But, to get rid of with an upbeat note, whilst the biography of Crockett Johnson and Ruth Krauss has certainly been the most difficult book I’ve written, they have recently been one of the most rewarding. It’s pushed me, forced me to formulate intellectual muscles I didn’t know existed, compelled me to boost my writing. It’s the very best book I’ve written, and may even well be the most effective one I ever will write. To purchase biography writing services go to http://techcompaniesbiographywritinglist.mystrikingly.com/blog/career-profiting-with-biography-writing-services

[destitutions-blog]

Resisting Capital, Resisting Death: The Theatrics of Julian Beck

[from the spring 2016 issue of Normal Noise magazine]

A young girl, Carol Anne Freeling, stands in an outdoor shopping mall in Phoenix, Arizona, with her mom and brother. She wanders a few feet behind them, dejected that her mom wouldn’t buy her a kitten from the pet shop they just passed. She looks behind her and notices a man. He stares at her. He wears a black suit, black ribbon bowtie, black bowler hat. It is sunny and he is the only person wearing black. His sharp cheekbones only serve to accentuate the hollowness of his eye sockets, the bulge of his eyes. His lips are pursed with focus, but around them, his skin sinks off his skull. He has long, thin, gray, hair that puffs out from under his hat.

He walks toward the girl. Ominous music like something out of a haunted funhouse plays. The music almost takes away from the horror exuded by the man. He walks through a shopper like a ghost. The girl runs to catch up with her mom, whom she has now lost, calling out for her. He continues to walk. He’s in no hurry. The camera follows her for a few moments, clumsily mirroring her confusion, panning this way, that way, haphazardly. The music quickens.

Suddenly, she bumps into the man. The music cuts. He bends down, smiles, revealing yellow, crooked teeth that lean outward.

Through his smile, he says, “Are you lost, sweetheart?”

She looks at him, dumbfounded.

“Are you afraid, honey? Well, why don’t you come with me?” The campy dialogue verges on humorous, but spoken through this man’s teeth, it’s chilling.

The character is Reverend Henry Kane, the actor Julian Beck. The film, released in 1986, is Poltergeist II: The Other Side, sequel to the horror hit Poltergeist, co-directed by Steven Spielberg. If you’re familiar with the first movie and didn’t know there was a sequel, you’re not the only one. The movie, lacking Spielberg, was a critical and financial flop. Nina Darnton, in her New York Times review of the movie, notes, “like most sequels, [it] has no reason for existing beyond the desire to duplicate a financial success,” adding that it “tries too hard, offers too many explanations, is too unsubtle and ends up losing the sense of illusion and mystery that caught, in the first film, the dark underside of childhood.”

However, for all the corny music, heavy-handed special effects, and general lack of subtlety, the movie had some sort of magic that enticed many of its viewers. Poltergeist II, for its plot failures and its generally poor ratings, has a few genuinely horrifying moments. These moments don’t come from a well-crafted plot or skilled directing, but from the acting of one person: Julian Beck, the scary, maniacal reverend. Darnton praises Beck’s “stunning performance as the Reverend Kane —a pale, insidious specter of evil.” She writes of the scene at the mall, “It is a chilling moment and is produced not by special effects, but by the older magic of a gifted actor.”

Poltergeist II was one of his last projects as an actor. In 1983, he was diagnosed with incurable cancer and he died eight months before the movie premiered. In his last years, he worked feverishly on Theandric, a collection of notes, poems, meditations, manifestos, and new material for his Living Theatre, which had just finished a stint in Europe. Why, with all of this going on, would he devote so much time to a half-rate, campy horror sequel?

Julian Beck was born in Washington Heights, Manhattan in 1925 to a teacher and an auto parts salesman. Shortly into adulthood, he would expatriate to Europe, but he returned to his birth city again and again, which he deemed “the ideal city for the masochist.” Acting was a passion from the start. As a young child, he put on an imitation circus in his apartment and while at the legendary Horace Mann School as a teen, he acted in student productions. He got into Yale, but dropped out to pursue art. He dabbled in painting for a short while, painting colorfully in the abstract expressionist style. However, he eventually moved on to theatre and poetry. He appreciated theatre because it embodied what he valued most in art: rejecting the exhausting forces of consumer capitalism, which he equated with death. His theatre was one of vital, transformative, revolutionary potential.

In September of 1982, he wrote in a manifesto on theatre in Theandric, “The history of the theatre is like nothing so much as a history of revolts. The theatre renews itself thru revolution and destroys itself thru the preservation of tradition. The same is true of humankind. The life and death struggle between old and new is not merely a reflection of a disparity, it is the core.”

Beck was an anarchist and a pacifist. The revolution he believed in was a humanistic one. In Beck’s eyes, theatre and other transformative art had the potential to spread, shocking more and more people out of their traditional ways and means. His utopia was one that had overcome the weight of capitalism and of tradition through violent inner explosions. Beck was greatly inspired by Antonin Artaud’s Théâtre de la Cruaute, or “Theatre of Cruelty.” According to Artaud, by assaulting the audience’s senses, a production could allow them to feel unexpressed emotions of the subconscious, buried by the dulling forces of capitalism. To Beck, the most effective theatre was spontaneous theatre. In a culture devoid of spontaneity in many realms, he believed it was necessary to be playful and spontaneous in order to create possibilities outside of the realm of consumer capitalism.

Beck’s most well-known project, The Living Theatre, was founded by him and his wife, Judith Malina, in 1947. Largely inspired by the “Theatre of Cruelty,” The Living Theatre was unapologetically revolutionary and anti-capitalist. Always political in nature, Living Theatre productions were meant to shock the audience out of political complacency. They were vital, energetic, and spontaneous.

A performance of one of their plays, Paradise Now, filmed on their controversial ’68-’69 tour, is preserved in video form. For most of the performance, nude or nearly-nude actors crowd the stage, moving through different formations. They shout politically charged fragments and phrases over one another: “Peace! Anarchism!” “I am not allowed to smoke marijuana!” “I do not know how to stop the war!” The performance eventually devolves into a shouting match between the audience and the performance. Whether the crowd was outraged or playfully engaging with the actors (or some mix of both) is not clear. However, Beck would likely have considered either of these reactions on the part of the audience as successful. As long as something unexpected and spontaneous happened, as long as the audience was shaken into self-awareness, the Living Theatre was accomplishing its aims.

While Beck’s work often focused on the political, undercutting that focus was an ever-present existential drama between life and death. In 1982, in a notebook entry in Theandric, he writes, “I insist on [theatre] because I recognize it as a ritual without which our survival loses ground to the pale of death, always encroaching, death with its breathless silence moving down on us.”

As the end of his life neared, he stressed his art’s relation of a struggle between life and death more and more. During this time, he even went so far as to insist that one does not die unless one is driven to suicide by society, a notion gleaned from his beloved Artaud. No matter what one’s cause of death, at its core, it is a succumbing to the stifling pressures of society. Death, to Beck, was to be overcome by passionate, revolutionary vitality.

His role in Poltergeist II sheds light on this struggle. Before the action of both Poltergeist and Poltergeist II, Kane, a cult leader who claims to be a reverend from the South, leads his flock of followers into a cave and kills all of them and then himself in order to harvest their souls and attain eternal, supernatural power. In both of the films, Kane repeatedly attempts to kidnap a young girl—the girl from the mall scene— from her family in order to use her to attract even more souls to himself and increase his power.

Performance and oration are in Kane’s nature as a reverend, just as they are in Beck’s nature as an actor. In order to overcome death, Kane stages a great performance, transforming both himself and his audience in the process. In an undated notebook entry in Theandric, Beck writes that the purpose of theatre is to “transform the spectator. Therefore,” he continues, “we begin by transforming ourselves and this is what is interesting about the art of the performer.” Kane’s backstory, then, embodies the same conflict that Beck struggled against all his life. Kane sought to overcome death through moments of theatrical transformation.

Beck’s performance in Poltergeist II exudes his struggle to be explosive and revolutionary. In the most iconic scene of the film, Kane stands outside the Freeling family’s home and begs to be let in. He repeats, again and again, getting louder and louder, “Let me in! Let me in! Let me in!” Carol Anne’s father, Steven, played by Craig T. Nelson, stands just inside the home, mortified. Kane says, “Now, before it’s too late.” The camera is close to Kane’s face and his bulging eyes are wide open. “You’re going to die in there, all of you! You are going to die!” Kane’s face is warped, as if he is in agony. Steven, after struggling to find words, says, “Get the hell out of here,” and suddenly the tension drains from Kane’s face. He laments that Steven remains unconvinced and walks away, singing a hymn.

From the Doctors’ Hospital in New York City in April of 1984, Beck writes:

“I conceive of theatre as a code secreting messages secretly in a world fraught with danger to each member of the public. I conceive of theatre as a series of warning devices raised over the confluence of passivity poured into our veins by the ignorance and well wishes of our error fraught system. We are dying of official medicine which doesn’t work. The performer is like the witch-doctor, the holy healer, the dancer of the divine coda of life. Who watches is inspired, who drinks survives.”

Kane, speaking to the Freelings, lures them to death. It could be said that he is in fact luring them from a death, of sorts, by complacency, by capitalism, outdoor shopping malls, consumerism, by the decentralized sprawl of Phoenix, Arizona. However, let’s imagine, for a moment, that in this scene, Beck is speaking. He is speaking to us, the audience of the film. He is embodying his life’s work on screen. He, Julian Beck, is telling us, on camera, to let him in. He is warning us. Like Steven, we are inspired, but it is our initiative to drink.

Throughout his career in theatre, Beck sought, more than anything, to shock the audience out of complacency. He witnessed a dying society and attempted madly to warn us against this for his whole life. Perhaps, if we listen to his warnings and engage with his work and his revolutionary message, we have a chance to shake ourselves out of our growing complacency. However, this needn’t be done seriously. In fact, it may be necessary that we are not particularly serious in this venture. The Living Theatre, the culmination of Beck’s artistic vision, embodies a certain playfulness which, in fact, may be a site of the spontaneity needed for resistance. Theatre, and all art, has the potential to revitalize and to transform, to ward off death.

[micaramel]

Clockwise, from upper right: Rone, Loreal Prystaj, Miguel Chevalier, Sigalit Landau.

What does it take to make a great piece of art? This seemingly simple, yet deeply complex, question has been debated throughout the history of art. Who decides what is “good” art and what is “bad” art? While many look to art critics and curators for answers, we decided to turn to a wide variety of contemporary artists, going directly to the source.

From illustrators to paper artists, photographers to installation artists, just what do the creative minds behind today's most stimulating contemporary art feel is the key to great art? For many, it's subjective and can encompass a range of characteristics, but as we surveyed the artists there were overarching themes. Innovation, emotional connectivity, and a bit of luck were repeatedly mentioned no matter the medium.

The eternal quest for great art of course changes over time, ebbing and flowing with tastes and trends. So, let's take a look at how these 21st-century artists respond when posed with this challenging question.

We asked 12 contemporary artists “What does it take to make a great piece of art?” Here's what they said…

Li Hongbo. READ MORE: Astonishing Stretchable Paper Sculptures Appear to Be Made of Stone

Li Hongbo

When I first started practicing art, our professors would make us draw the busts of widely renowned sculptures. The busts became patient friends and mentors of mine. To this day I will remember the time I spent sketching them. To breath new life and revitalize old memories, I have recreated these tools of study using my own mode of expression; paper.

My artistic creation has lots of themes. However, they are all close to my thinking, my experience, and my life now. Those themes, which have been expressed, are the material, which comes from my inner thinking. When people look at a box, they think “It's a box.” But, actually, it can change into another thing. I want to change the image, change how people see things so they think in another way, and more deeply.

There is a Chinese saying, “life is as fragile as paper,” which has left a deep impact on me. The concise and harrowing phrase sums up the fragility of life and rockiness of fate. Life is as pure as a piece of white paper when it is born. Yet, it is as fleeting as a galloping white horse against infinite time, as it is fragile and solitary against the volatile world. Life is vulnerable and transient; it is as fragile as paper.

Maybe I am like paper: pure at birth, silent in death, and blossoming like flowers even in my withered bones.

  Rebecca Louise Law. READ MORE: Giant Installation of 150,000 Native Australian Blooms Displays the Power of Flowers

Rebecca Louise Law

Patience, courage, humility and hard work. I have found that focusing ahead is much more beneficial to my art practice than looking at the present. Living in the moment can be distracting and often hinder the creative process. The best work always comes from being challenged, whether in time, finances, materials or concept. It’s better to take risks than play safe.

  Federico Babina. READ MORE: Powerful Architectural Illustrations Visually Interpret Mental Illnesses

Federico Babina

In everything, there is a bit of ART. There is, you have just to discover how to see it. It is often hidden, fragmented, disorganized, and unassuming. The challenge is to discover it, compose it, and order it. We should observe things from a different point of view. Looking at the world upside down can offer many creative ideas and awaken from a kind of “sleep of vision.”

There is no universal formula to create a piece of art. Everyone has to find their own path. Your traveling companions on this journey through these sensitive places are “fARTasy,” “creARTivity,” and “invARTiveness.” It is like composing a song or a melody. The notes already exist and they are seven. The hardest part is putting them together and finding a proper balance between the music and the silence, between harmony and melody.

  Matt Shlian. READ MORE: Artist Uses Engineering to Fold Mesmerizing Geometric Paper Sculptures

Matt Shlian

This feels like a trick question. It can be interpreted as what (tools, materials, process) does it take to make a great piece of art? Or it can be read as what makes a piece of art great? Both are big questions.

Let me start with what makes a piece great:

A piece of art needs to connect. It needs to have some element of truth to it that resonates with the viewer and leaves them something after they’ve left the piece. A good piece asks questions and teaches you something you didn’t know or shows you something you didn’t know you knew. It articulates something we’ve felt, and we connect to that thing in a way where words aren’t necessary. It's a feeling that's hard to describe but makes us feel less alone in a way—that someone else understands us and gives a voice to this thing inside us. A piece of art extends beyond its frame and becomes part of us.

I've made work for almost 20 years and I’m made a ton of work in that time. Some are ok, most “meh,” and a handful of good ones. The ok ones lead to the next pieces (and are a necessary part of the process) and the good ones sometimes come all at once and sometimes you have to grind them out slowly for a number of years to get one. It's equal parts mining for gold and standing in a field trying to get stuck by lighting. Some days you dig and other days you look up and wait.

This leads back to the first question—What does it take to make a great piece?

It takes time, sometimes a shovel and sometimes it takes being in the right place at the right time.

  Rone. READ MORE: Street Artist Creates Crumbling Portraits on Abandoned Buildings to Reveal the Fragility of Beauty

Rone

I think what it takes to make a great piece of art is to connect with the observer on an emotional or personal level. A bit of mystery can let the observer interpret the work based on their own experiences and let them identify with it. If you spell it all out there can only be one way to interpret the work, and I think what makes great art is when everyone experiences it differently.

  Miguel Chevalier. READ MORE: Projection Mapping on King's College Chapel Blends 16th-Century Gothic Architecture with Contemporary Art

Miguel Chevalier

In my case, I understood in the early 1980s that computer tools were going to be the basis for a structurally original approach, whose stakes had to be grasped right away. These possibilities seemed unlimited and the transformations unending. They represented a fabulous dictionary of forms and colors, on whose basis I could work on the image, modify it, and regenerate it.

Digital art can explore new territory. I believe that is really a new kind of aesthetic of the virtual that is emerging. I have the feeling of being in tune with my time, creating a new poetry and a new poetic universe able to lift emotions. It is for me the art of the 21st century.

  Sigalit Landau. READ MORE: Dress Submerged in Dead Sea Transforms Into Glimmering Salt-Covered Masterpiece

Sigalit Landau

To make a great piece of art you need to believe that you have an eternity of time—even though it is the most urgent thing in your life—and you also need plenty of nothing-to-lose, for its impeccable production. To consume a lot of music, love, and a little alcohol, of course.

  Omar Z. Robles. READ MORE: Dynamic Photos of Ballet Dancers in Motion on the Streets of Puerto Rico

Omar Z. Robles

It takes a larger combination of elements to create one great work of art, but ultimately the question should become “What does it take to make a great PIECES of art?” (Note the plural). Why? Because in order for an artist to truly excel they need to be able to create not one, but many great pieces of art. That’s how you can recognize, or rather distinguish, the artist from the layman. It’s the consistency in their work that separates them from just being a “one hit wonder”.

Now in order to achieve that, you need to be able to have the patience of going through the process of getting it wrong, many times. Until you start getting it right, then you continue pushing yourself on that same line and you don’t quit. Another element is to be self-critical. One of my mentors in photography once told me “the true secret to great photographers is that they only exhibit their best work.” We all can produce a bad piece, even on our best days. However, you have to learn to detach yourself from your work and be critical of yourself before you publish any kind of work.

Finally, it takes essence/context for a work to be great. That is, I guess, the hardest thing to assess. Great works of art, I believe, all share one thing, and that is that they are supported by context. It can’t just be beautiful, or shocking for the sake of it. Great artworks captivate you because you can, in one way or another, identify with it. Marcel Marceau used to tell me all the time “il fault toucher le publique” (we need to be able to move the audience). His message was, it’s not enough to be technically good, you need to have the capability to move and touch your audience. The only way you can move your audience is if your work is supported by context.

  Charles Pétillon. READ MORE: Cloud-Like Clusters of White Balloons Invade Ordinary Environments

Charles Pètillon

Great authors, philosophers, or critics have published books about this subject without being able to answer the question, so I do not see how I can try to answer it….. The look on a work is multiple. There is an emotional and philosophical charge, the relation to space, the subject, the light, the relation to the spectator, the technique, the message, the concept etc ……

  Lauren Brevner.

Lauren Brevner

Every time I see work from another artist that I love, I tend to have a visceral reaction to the piece(s). It could be a quickening of my pulse, or butterflies in my stomach, that strange twisty feeling you get in your gut that's so similar to the reaction you would have when lusting over someone. That's how I know it's good. I can't stop smiling, or staring; it brings me such a rush of emotion that I can't help but feel drawn to it. I believe it comes down to a purity of the artist's voice that you really can't fake.

When making my own work, I know I've done my job when I get that feeling, that twinge of excitement (of course that doesn't always happen, unfortunately) but I know I've done my best when I have those feelings.

  Philippe Echaroux. READ MORE: Powerful Series Projects Faces of Indigenous People Onto the Amazon Rainforest.

Philippe Echaroux

An emotion. This is the first spark of every fire. Emotions that are not necessarily positive ones, but this first feeling creates the art. If you try to express what you are feeling that will be art no matter which way it takes and what form it has.

  Loreal Prystaj. READ MORE: Surreal Portraits of the Human Form Hiding Behind Reflections of Nature

Loreal Prystaj

As an artist, it is important to create work that genuinely comes from within. This is the only way that a new and unique point of view is found. It is an easy trap for an artist to generate work she perceives her audience will like. True, the viewer ultimately determines the greatness of an art piece—great art impacts a vast spectrum of people. But a volatile audience cannot be predicted, hence great art is rarely a calculated guess, it is often an accident. The only way an artist can introduce new perspectives is continuing to be curious, ask questions, and explore. Seeing the world through curious eyes leads to new discoveries.

My Modern Met granted permission to use images via the respective artists.

The post 12 Contemporary Artists Tell Us What it Takes to Make a Great Piece of Art appeared first on My Modern Met.

from My Modern Met http://bit.ly/2opvy7C

[utopian-environments]

The Door Harp On the door of the house is the old, unusual harp. Shape of a halved fig, an upset wooden heart. Three deep brown wooden balls hang from three wooden spikes and lie still against its three taut strings. It looks like a bird house. The balls are the birds that visit and sing their secret for a moment. Bought by my mum in her twenties as an apology for staying out too late and worrying my grandparents, it ironically became the tell-tale of her entrance time. The wooden ball is smooth between my finger and thumb, like a warm marble, I let it fall. The note is sweet. This awkward unhomely house on the edge of the motor way. The pebbles in the drive way crunch under car wheels. It has always felt oddly hollow; the door harp brings it home. I imagine she opens the door. I stand engulfed by her perfume; it precedes her hug. Fingers of scent that fathom my skin. She bends to my height. Note her blonde hair-do first, then her gleaming earrings hanging. Her powdered cheek is cold against mine. She has the magnetism of Christmas; this vision has the superficiality of Christmas too. It fades like a scent. Then I see him peeking from behind, a grin splitting his round, red face from ear to ear. Like a present poking out from behind a tree. He pinches my ear. Then I follow the line of his corduroys up as I am swooped from the ground and he swings me round. Their beloved doll. The hallway before me, the lines narrowing to the square of the landing where the dust does ballet under the grey gaze of a cloudy afternoon sky, is as unyielding as a static TV. As I step forward it feels as impossible and foreign as the world behind a screen. Another family will move in soon. My little brother’s laugh bounces in behind me, his platinum curls twisting round his rubbery youthful face. Immortal. Nabbing ‘the animal bedroom’, as always. The one the colour of first prize. The one the colour of Africa. The one adorned with frames from grandparents I don’t recognise. Grandparents on elephant’s backs and propped in front of waterfalls. They don’t feel like mine, they don’t feel human, they are treasures. Relics of the past. They look so free. Next door is where I sleep: ‘the spotty bedroom’. It is always winter here. My private sphere. I lie and wait for the knives of cold sunlight to penetrate the dense blue of the curtains. And on the curtains are red and green flecks, I imagine each of them as a person who has or had a life once. Caught in this moment, what are they each feeling? This house is just bones now. My grandma shakes in her motions round the kitchen. I float into the dining room; the glazed, oak, oval table catches on my sticky fingers. It is almost the last to go. I once flopped naked on this table eating chocolate from a jar – I have no memory, just a photo. Faces round the table crumble into tears. Dissolve like snow on a child’s tongue. And the change evokes a change in me, a realisation forms like water freezing. My grandma at the heart of the company. She has never looked so fragile and I’ve never felt her to be so strong. Never felt the strength of the family so crushingly. The door harp chimes as the door creaks shut behind me.

Alice Greenwood Bliss

I am continuing to work from Alice’s poetry which we exchanged for the Ampersand project. This is a piece of prose she sent me. The imagery which she creates in her writing really inspires me, I like how she creates a sense of transition and time by describing changing atmospheres, which act like markers to enhance the navigation of narrative.

I also admire the way she can document mundane personal focus points, for example ‘on the curtains are red and green flecks, I imagine each of them as a person who has or had a life once. Caught in this moment, what are they each feeling?’, this isn’t logical thought it’s almost dreamlike, she's taking us through what she sees and what thoughts are triggered through the transition of her surroundings. This reveals her personality and gives the reader fragments of what goes on inside her head.

I am deeply intrigued by this connection formed between Alice’s external and internal environment, each continually reacting off each other.