#i also use music as a coping mechanism so i feel you harold

[hiinnys]

savior complex

(i don’t really know what this is, but it can also be found on ao3!)

he doesn’t entirely know what convinces him to buy it, but if there’s anything the solid gold cauldron incident of ‘91 taught him, it’s that he can be a bit of an impulsive buyer. and this time there’s no hagrid with him to tell him to be a bit more reasonable in his purchases.

which is exactly how he ends up at ron and hermione’s flat, knocking on the door at six o’three p.m., asking hermione how to charm an iPod to sustain itself around magic. for her part, hermione gives him a look that harry takes roughly to mean just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you have to buy useless shit, then proceeds to teach him how to charm the iPod. the pair then spend the better part of the next three hours teaching ron what the hell an iPod even is.

when harry finally makes it home that night, he’s got a smile on his face and a catalogue of songs to load up on the device in his head.

**

“how does the music come out of it?”

“same way music comes out of the radio, gin.”

“ok, but how do you get the music in it?”

“you have to download it.”

“what the fuck does that even mean?”

it takes him a good minute to stop laughing. “i’ll teach you,” he promises.

**

he pops his headphones in when he’s running, let’s the music wash over him as he jogs mile after mile. it’s good for him, he thinks. reminds him that there’s no one chasing after him anymore, no green light he’s running towards. reminds him that he could run forever and there would be no fallout. he could disappear into himself and it would be alright. he would be missed, maybe, but not needed.

it’s a strange peace, harry thinks, to not be needed.

**

“no offense, potter, but your music taste is shite.”

he’s cooking dinner - some recipe mrs. weasley saw in witch weekly that had ‘reminded her of him,’ or so she had said at dinner last week - when ginny comes strolling in, clad in a harpies jumper and a pair of his boxers, iPod in hand.

“ouch,” he teases, eyes glued to her bare legs, and it’s really not possible that this is his life. “i’d like to see you do better, weasley.”

“oh, i will,” she’s traded out the iPod for a bottle of wine, brandishing it at him like a sword. “i’m literally gonna blow your mind.”

he turns off the hob, closes the meter of space between them, whispers: “i can think of another way you can blow my mind.”

the bottle ends up on the counter, next to the iPod, neither of which are touched again for the next two hours.

**

there’s a case at work involving a homicide, a little boy, a custody battle, a desperate godfather who looks harry dead in the eye and begs him not to let the boy end up with anyone else, and harry thinks dying was better than this. he finishes his paperwork early, barely registering the clamor of a case being solved around him, packs up his things and doesn’t hear robbards calling after him when he leaves the office.

he floos home, sees ginny on the couch, a book in her lap, but it doesn’t ease the weight in his heart, doesn’t fill the air with room like it should. the panic sets in just then, because he keeps ending back up here. with this same weight and no fucking air in his lungs, no matter how far away he thinks he’s gotten from it.

“harry,” the concern lines her forehead and he hates himself for putting that look in her eyes, for putting that fear in her heart. “what happened?”

“i’m gonna go for a run,” he says, head underwater, a silent promise that he’ll explain when he gets back passing between them.

ginny grabs the iPod off the coffee table - the one they picked out together because she hated the one he used to have before the flat was theirs - and hands it to him.

**

he takes his usual route, headphones in, playlist on shuffle. there’s a moment between songs when he’s bathed in a staticky silence where he wishes with everything left in him that he could call his own godfather, tell him about the case and the little boy with the big eyes that he thinks he could’ve been, in another life. the one who wouldn’t let go of his godfather’s hand. wishes he could tell him that, sometimes, harry wants to rip his own fucking heart out his chest, because it’s shattered beyond repair in some places and it bleeds too much every now and then and it drags him down, down, down.

except he can’t, that voice in the back of his head whispers, because this is his life and it has a habit of being monstrous to the people he loves.

but the music starts back up just then and the moment is gone and he turns around, starts running home.

**

it takes her four and a half months, but ginny finally learns both what downloading means and how to download songs onto the iPod. (not in that order, though.)

she adds so many songs the thing runs out of space. when harry tells her as much, she looks him dead in the eyes and says:

“what the crap does that mean, harold?”

so harry spends the next hour explaining to her exactly what the crap that means.

**

he runs through her additions to the playlist when he’s heading home from the office, working out, doing the laundry, and cooking because, yes, it takes him that long to listen to everything she’s added.

he can’t say he’s particularly surprised by her music choice - it fits her entirely too well for him to be. what he can say is that he’s a bit shocked she knows (and has listened to) this much muggle music. so, in a manner of speaking, she does blow his mind.

when he tells her this she laughs in his face for no less than five minutes and harry thanks her for being so graceful in her victory.

**

he finally considers the iPod a good purchase on a saturday, six months after he’s bought it. it’s laying around on the counter - as it usually does when it’s not in harry’s pocket - when ron spots it after dinner.

(the four of them - ron, hermione, harry and ginny - make it a point to have dinner together once a month. it starts as a tradition carried on from the year the girls went back to hogwarts and the boys fell arse first into auror training, but it becomes a reminder to all of them to work a little less and enjoy each other’s company a lot more.)

he - ron, that is - clicks through the playlist before seemingly finding a song he considers suitable, places the device on the coffee table, and holds his hand out for hermione. she accepts it and he twirls her around the living room a few times til she’s laughing harder than she can breathe and then they’re swaying, easily, gently, like they have nowhere to be.

harry watches them a moment longer, heart warming in his chest, before turning to ginny. she meets his eyes, gives him that wicked smile he loves so much, and grabs for the iPod, changing the song to something energetic, something alive, something completely ginny.

neither ron nor hermione have much time to be mad at her for the sudden tempo change because she’s rocketing off the couch, grabbing hermione’s hand and sending the two sailing around the room, dancing and jumping and laughing.

it lights something in harry and he’s smiling at the two and laughing at the hand ron’s outstretched towards him and the saucy wink he’s given him. he grabs ron’s hand, lets him twirl and dip harry, lets him taunt the girls about how much better him and harry are at this, backs him up when he needs more witty retorts than any one person could handle.

it goes on like this for some time. they’re dancing and singing (screaming, really) and the old man that lives down the hall is probably gonna yell at him and ginny in the morning, but harry couldn’t care less because he’s here, with his girlfriend in his arms and his best mates having it out about which one of them sang the line wrong. this, harry decides, is what it was all for. all the loss and the pain and the grief and every horrible thing there ever was. it all happened for this. for cheap wine and the best people and an iPod with a questionable amalgamation of probably dated muggle music, but damn him if it wasn’t worth it.

and damn him if he wouldn’t do it all again just for another night like this.

[wittyno]

5:

Dolores!!! My favorite mannequin. I still don't know what their relationship exactly is/was.

His interaction with Klaus is hilarious. The pride he shows when Klaus hits himself with the globe.

He screamed Vanya name first

He still won't allow anyone to help. I realize that's what the apocalypse does to you.

There is probably a protective component to it. Because he wants to protect them. In some ways he's the Batman is the story (that's not a compliment). He's not only protecting present day family but also the family he left so many years ago.

Five and his eye there's probably a meta there.

How does no one recognize him?

Is fives tattoo raw? How come none of them got it removed?

Yes the music slaps hard in this episode.

Vanya:

Everything about her is so drab. The colors she wears the color pallet of her apartment. Her clothes are formless and too big for her. She never got the chance to learn how to shop. It feels like she picks whatever fits.

Oh Harold you fucker. I am always astounded with how well he calibrates himself to her. How perfectly he manipulates his image so Vanya can invest.

The way she lights up really hurts me.

Klaus: What must it be like to hear the voices of the dead in your brain. It strikes me every time that had Hagreeves taken a more supportive approach with their powers they wouldn't have turned to negative coping mechanisms.

Allison:

The more I watch the angrier I get. The way she treats Vanya, even though she is sorry afterwards, speaks volumes about her personality.

Good for Patrick to keep Claire away from Allison at least for now. She has enormous amount of power over everyone.

In my brain Patrick is played by Patrick Stump. I don't know why but that's hilarious to me.

I do feel for her. I do think she loves her daughter and her siblings, but she is so used to getting what she wants when she wants it she abuses her powers over others.

She says as an adult you only have yourself to blame which is an incredibly toxic message. No, sometimes shit happens to you that you can't and definitely shouldn't take responsibility for. Especially Vanya.

She does wear the shit out of some outfits though.

If you look at Allison’s room you see the the amount of teen magazines they/she were in. Fame is something I haven't really addressed, but I should.

Ben:

Finally the ben we know and love. Sarcastic, incredibly lonely, and in need of a hug.

One of things that strikes me about Ben is how touch starved he must be. We all need physical contact. Hugs handshakes a touch on the arm. It's been years since Ben has touched or been touched. That poor kid.

Luther: The definition of the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Diego: 

So much toxic masculinity ahhhhh 

Those knives 

also an interesting study in fame

Hazel and Cha-Cha:

Love those two

They never hint at a romantic relationship which is something I appreciate.

The corporate structure that they go through is too real.

Mary Poppins yourself into my inbox,

[shesadramaqueen]

Restless Feeling; Brian May x N!Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Hi love can I request a Bri fanfic pleeeeeeese 😊😊😊 anything really- probably one at Wembley backstage or something 😋😋😋 x

Summary: Even though all members of Queen are excited and restless for the concert, Brian seems to be terrified, and you're determined to make him see he'll be just fine.

Context: This is placed at backstage of Wembley stage on 1986.

Word count: 2.5 K

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: it was a bit hard to figure this one out as I didn't know how to start oops but I’m really happy with how it turned out! so thanks to my main bitch aka @turkey-bacon-for-queen for helping me out with my lack of inspiration kksks also I got the gif from @eternalfreddie 's header, luv u. Also I finished this late at night, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

Permanent taglist: @turkey-bacon-for-queen

You had always loved the feeling that floated around backstage before a concert. There was always a buzzing energy; a mix of excitedness, restlessness and a hint of nervousness as well. 

Queen always emanated light before going out to give the people what they want. No matter the size of the crowd or how important the event was, adrenaline could always be tasted and it never failed to send tingles to the wholeness of your being.

But there was something off that evening and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You tried to dismiss that feeling, telling yourself it wasn’t something important, and you started chatting with Phoebe, who apparently had a hilarious story to tell about how Freddie almost killed him once with a butter knife after he had locked Goliath outside on accident. Eventually the rest of the band gathered aroud to hear the man speak.

“Best thing: he fell while chasing me! He was absolutely shit-faced, I don’t even think he knew why he was angry” he said, his cheeks completely red from holding in his laughter.

“Better watch what you’re saying, darling, or I’ll kick you out with just a snap of my fingers��� Freddie said with a hand on his hip and a threatening finger pointing at him, which made the story-teller wheeze so hard he looked like his lungs were going to come out of his mouth. His laughter was so contagious he made all of you crack up again.

The scene was absolutely priceless: Roger had ended up on the floor, rolling around and only shaking, as he was laughing so hard he wasn't making a single noise, John was bent over, with his face on his hands and letting out choked cackles and you were laying on the sofa with your hands holding your stomach, which hurt from laughing so hard, with tears were rolling down your cheeks. Even Freddie was struggling to keep his menacing posture and eventually started giggling uncontrollably. As for Brian... 

You sat down with difficulties, now only a couple of chuckles escaping your lips and you blinked a couple times before you squinted and scanned the room.

“Oh” you thought out loud after you gave meaning to the uneasy feeling that had been drilling your head for the whole time.

“Hey, has anyone seen Brian?” you asked, but they all shook their head absentmindedly, still high on laughter. 

“20 minutes!” one member of the staff announced and you bit your lip. You had to go find Brian.

You got up and got out of the main dressing room without saying a thing to anyone, knowing they wouldn’t miss you in that moment.

‘Maybe he’s in the bathroom?’ you wondered, starting to walk towards were you believed the restroom was, but all the hallways were so similar that you weren’t sure where you came from or where you were going.

Wembley’s stage was a huge place, full of corridors with dozens of doors each. You started to worry, hoping you’d find him in the little time you had.

Your quick pace slowed down when you heard a faint, familiar strumming, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

You followed the sound, which carried you into one of the rooms, the door open so slightly you probably wouldn't have noticed it was unlocked if you were just walking by.

Your heart fluttered when you peaked your head inside and you saw the curly-haired boy sitting on the sofa that was there, with his guitar on his leg. You wondered how could he possibly play a single string, when he was bouncing his leg up and down like crazy. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pressed into a thin line. 

You knocked on the door firmly so he could hear you over the persistent notes, and he jumped, looking towards the door with wide eyes.

When he saw it was you, his features softened and he gave you a small smile, before setting his guitar to the side and scooting over to let you sit next to him.

“How are you feeling? It’s unusual for you to disappear out of the blue” you said looking at him with a warm grin, but he was playing with the sixpence he used as a pick, not looking at you.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just wanted to get away from all the banter so I could actually tune the old lady” he said with a nervous smile, and he got up to sit in in front of the dressing table.

‘He’s avoiding me’ you thought, quirking a brow up in disbelief.

“Oh yeah?” you simply said, getting up as well, following after him.

He always did this; hide his true feeligs to appear strong. But you knew that he hated lying to you, and if you stood around him completely silent long enough, he would eventually spit out the truth. He always did.

So you stood behind him and you brought your hands up to put his messy curls in place. He shifted in his seat, but he didn’t look directly to you, he just fixed his gaze anywhere else.

You clicked your tongue, struggling a bit to sort his hair out. When he was nervous, he messed it around in order to keep himself busy. It was like a coping mechanism, just like with the random strumming he did.

When you finally finished, you laid your hands on his shoulders, noticing he was the tenstest you’d ever seen, so you started massging him in order to try and relax him. He immediately let out a groan and rolled his eyes back, obviously enjoying it.

You chuckled slightly, and his gaze finally laid on yours, hesitantely. You locked eyes with him, quirking both eyebrows up in an inquiring way.

He whineed in defeat and you smirked.

“Fine!” he said dramatically, letting his head hang back “I’m actually terrified”.

You muttered a triumphant “I knew it” and gently kissed his forehead before moving back to the sofa.

This made him look at you with a pout before you motioned him to sit next to you, at which he almost jumped excitedly to join you and you cuddle up, holding him while he laid against your chest.

“I just... I’m really, really nervous” he starts “This is like one of the biggest concerts we’ve done like, ever.  Not only today is filled, but there were so many people willing to come that we have to perform again tomorrow, which is full as well and they didn’t book a third day lord knows why, because I’m sure people would have bought all the tickets again!” he said throwing his arms in the air.

He didn’t let you intervine and he continued “And like, that’s good, right? Cause it means people like us but...” he let his arms fall on his chest “I’m just having doubts” he shrugged and you could feel how he pressed his lips together, even if you couldn’t see his face “I just feel very stressed and... what if I’m not that good?”

You couldn’t help but scoff and say “what does that even mean?”

He shrugged again “I don’t know, maybe I’m just not the guitar master everyone says I am. You have been there the last three rehersals we’ve done. I don’t think I even played a single chord correctly, let alone a bloody solo.”

While you listened to his ranting, you stroked his hair and arms and kissed him wherever you could reach to comfort him. 

Some seconds of silence sat between you two while he composed himself and you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s alright to be nervous, Brian, we all are!” you broke the stillness that had set in the room while playing with the fabric of his collar “And you can’t honestly think that people have actually been lying to you about being a great guitarist, right?” you said, incredulous, which made his cheeks flush with a faint pink colour “Do you really think you would be where you are if people were just being nice? Just imagine, Queen having thousands of fans because all the music is perfect except the bloody guitarrist, who sucks, but hey, lets say he doesn’t so he doesn’t feel hurt” you heard his laugh and it made some of the tension that had build up on your back disappear “And, sincerily? You were pretty bad on the last rehersals” you said without a filter.

Brian loved that about you. Always sincere and honest, no matter what. It still made his heart ache a little bit. One thing was him thinking it and another one was hearing it from someone else.

“It wasn’t your fault, though” you said, and he looked up to see your face, slightly confused. “I mean, do you remember all the shit that has happened to you lately? The first day you, Brian Harold May, arrived one bloody hour late because you were stuck in traffic. You were fuming, and the others were just climbing the walls. I’m sure that affected how you played.”

He chuckled slightly, feeling a slight sense of ease “Yeah, I guess so” he muttered.

“Then the day after, I remember you had a deadly migraine. You threw up at least 3 times in the morning and I tried to persuade you to stay in bed, but of course, Mister Stubborn May had to go into the studio.” you looked at him with your ‘I told you so’ face, and he smacked one of your thighs playfully.

“And then because of the migraine you didn’t sleep at all, because let’s be honest, I didn’t either.” this time, he blushed deepely “I’m sorry, did I bother you?”

You rolled your eyes, the corners of your lips tugging up. “Of course not, Bri-Bri! I didn’t notice your constant rolling on the bed, different cuddling positions, humming, shuffling around the room or the talking to yourself. I didn’t notice it at all!” you said sarcastically with a fake bubblegum voice.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, embarassed, and you hugged him before pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“Anyways, that lack of sleep, also messed your guitar playing up. Actually, it’s crazy nothing bad has happened today, so I guess you wasted all your bad luck and this performance is just bound to be perfect. Have you tried playing anything?”

He shook his head and looked at you again “I was so afraid to mess up I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Well, get your arse up and start playing!” you shoved him off your chest to sit him up.

He got up to pick the Red Special before sitting on the edge of the couch. He plucked the 6 strings before sending you a look, and you nodded reassuringly.

He took a deep, shaky breath before starting to play Tie Your Mother Down.

Your breath caught up in your throat as the melody struck you, getting into you and wrapping your bones tight, feeling it echo inside your chest even if it wasn’t plugged into an amp. 

His eyes were shinning when he looked at you after he finished “I did it! It was perfect”

“I know!” you squealed, and he barely had time to put his guitar aside before you climbed on his lap and started kissing him passionately, with a big smile on each others faces and an ecstatic feeling flowing.

He pulled away, and cupped your cheek before opening his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a loud voice coming from the other side of the door.

“I’M NOT GOING INSIDE BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO LOSE THE FEW EYESIGHT I HAVE LEFT WATCHING YOU BOTH BUTT-NAKED, BUT WE’RE OUT IN 5 AND DEAKY IS STARTING TO GET REALLY PISSED, SO I’D RUSH UNLESS YOU WANT TO SEE HIM ANGRY, HAROLD.”

Roger then walked away, stomping dramatically. You looked at each other, amused, before breaking out in uncontrollable laughter.

You got off his lap with difficulty, finding it hard to breath in between laughs.

“’Cmon, let’s go, you don’t want to enrage the almighty Disco Deaky” you said, which only made him laugh more.

You rushed to reunite with the others, one of Brian’s hand holding his guitar, the other one holding yours.

“It was about time” John snapped at you both when you reached the rest of the band, which only made the curly haired man wheeze and bend over. He shut up when the bass player sent him a death glare and you tried your best not to snort when he made a funny face, as in to mock Deaky’s temper.

Brian then let go of you and peaked through to see the stage, and you could see how he stared in awe. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling so happy that you were finally seeing him on his zone, completely relaxed and emanating light.

“One minute!” one member of the staff announed, and all the band members jumped in excitement.

“Good luck, my boys!” you beamed, and they all answered a “thank you”. Except Freddie, who said “Don’t need it, darling!” with a cheeky smile.

You group hugged, a thing you always did before they went on stage and it felt like the best thing in the world. You all would have stayed like that for much longer, loving the intimate moment, but had to pull away when you all heard “20 seconds! Please position yourselves.”

You rushedly kissed all four of them on the cheek and waved at them goodbye, and they all practically skipped away while going towards one of the side wings, the only thing separating them from the crowd was a thin layer of cloth. 

“Wait!” you called after Brian, and you cupped his face when he turned around, kissing him eagerly. “Break a leg, tiger” you said, winking at him.

He didn’t have time to answer, as he was pulled away by the staff to get him were he was supposed to be.

When he was finally next to the boys, when all Queen was together, you finally took your time to really look at them, even if it was for 5 seconds. It was like the fabric that separated the inside from the outside was like a portal to another world, like the only thing that was making them keep sanity. You knew the second they put a foot on stage, when they heard the screams, when they felt the thousands of eyes on them, the breathtaking sensation that never seemed to go away, they’d lose their mind to the music, giving it all to their people.

“Alright! Time’s up!” you finally heard, and two bodyguards opened the curtain for them, and they ran through the threshold, Brian throwing you a final kiss before disappearing. Not even 3 seconds later, you heard the crowd roar.

You ran to get yourself somewhere where you could able to see them perfectly, an eager feeling setting in your stomach.

You shook your head in disbelief when Brian started to play One Vision, the precision of his movements on the Red Special were what dragged your mind away, preparing it to see one of the best performances ever done in history.

[smallblanketfort]

as someone who was raised without religion idk much about god. i have ideas on what i believe in but i’m not sure how strongly i back them. what is god to you? how do you even define the word ‘god’? can god be anything as long as he/she/they/it is something you believe in?

long post alert! first know that my belief in god is why i am here. this belief made this blog. this is such a lovely, big question i have been pondering. i am so so honored that you are asking. i think it’s important to remember that faith in god is really what you make of it. in the words of tyler joseph, “Faith is to be awake, and to be awake is for us to think.. you need to try to think.” remember this. your faith is your own to create.

just a note, this post will seem all over the place, but it’s only bc my belief in god is so intertwined with life philosophy and experience. i cannot separate these things.

first, things important to note in your faith journey //  god as a being who loves questions and god as a being not defined by church or politics

as a bit of background, i grew up in christian churches, and i still call myself a christian. as i have gained life experience and developed my own identity, this has allowed me to ask more questions about the Bible and the traditional god.

don’t let questions scare you. questions are a healthy way to explore and get to know such enormous concepts such as the divine. questions get you answers.

don’t let your aggressive stop you. “Is it ever acceptable to be angry at God? I would suggest that it is not only acceptable, it may be one of the hallmarks of a truly religious person. It puts honesty ahead of flattery.”- Harold S. Kushner

often, churches may shoot down questions, but this is a hierarchal system speaking, not god. churches are made of people. they don’t speak for god, and i really need you to remember this. you don’t have to subscribe to everything a church says. question everything. the bible is absolutely full of people questioning and doubting and being angry with god- which is part of why i believe in it. it’s raw humanness, and it is okay. listen to cataracts by levi the poet, or at least the track big business. alternatively: “Every day I am afraid that he [Jesus] died for nothing because he is buried in our churches, because we have betrayed his revolution in our obedience to and fear of the authorities.”— excerpt from “A Radical Christian Creed” by Dorothee Soelle

god and genderso to begin, i recently tweeted about god being… gender queer, or simply without gender. the bible generally uses masc pronouns and titles like father, but i believe that an unlimited god cannot be constrained into human constructs. if we are all made in god’s image, god is not strictly male. to say god can only be male is to place societal, human constraint on the devine. the characteristics to describe the divine biblical “father” arent reserved for male in our society. god isnt human. i am getting into the practice of saying “the divine” or “they” pronouns to describe god. anyway- i do believe in the trinity (god, son, holy spirit, more on this towards the bottom) so they is absolutely a christian term.

god and love and evili believe god is a loving, creating force. i often hear people asking “why does god allow this” and frankly, i can’t relate. if i believe in a good force, i have to believe in an evil force as well. if i believe in good and evil, i have to also believe they are at odds, fighting a spiritual warfare. i also hate the phrase “it happens for a reason.” sure, maybe. but your tragedy is tragedy. your chaos/trauma/pain is chaos/trauma/pain, not a lesson by default. however, since i do believe god is a loving, creating force, i believe that god can find something good to give you out of everything. perhaps we might not discover this good for years, or maybe the good will be something that you don’t experience, but, for example, perhaps telling your story saves someone else.

everything good as an echo to the divinealong with that, i believe everything good in the world is created by god, and thus an extension / connection to the divine. this helps me overcome depression and anxiety. i can wake up every day and say, wow, look at all this faith entertained: the sky and its clouds. leaves. the way milky chai tastes. music somehow exists and transcends space and time?? people love hugs? animals like pats? science!! sweaters are dope, they change our body temperature. the fuel that keeps us going tastes good??? what even is taste? can you believe color is just light unabsorbed? incredible. thank you.this type of gratitude is indeed a practice, something to work on daily. it’s not always easy. i don’t want to act like it’s an easy cure to mental illness. it’s a practice that def helps me tho.

including all peoplewhich extends towards people. i love the phrase namaste: the divine light in me recognizes and honors the divine light in you. suddenly, everyone is valuable. everyone is created. everyone is experiencing the world. it makes kindness much easier. this is why i don’t understand most phobias… how can one say a divine creator didn’t mean to create different flavors of love?! it’s beautiful.

let me say that again: all peoplei want to get this straight, esp w our… political climate. this post say it better than i can: the immigrant apostle creed and the litany for the dreamers. i also think it’s interesting to remember that many native americans believe that trans people are closer to the divine, bc of points i made earlier- god can’t really be boxed into a gender. also, i believe in a feminist jesus that was a child refugee and a homeless man who experienced suicidal thoughts and anxiety. (i’ll try to link references when i get home)

other religions and my godi study a lot of buddhism and other religions. i like to understand things. i love buddhism, and i believe it, but i think that having faith in this god offers depth and purpose. where buddhism empties, yeshua, the christian jesus, fills. it’s service to ease the pain of the earth, out of love. that’s it.

faith as movementwhich is also to say, yes, shitty people exist, and i can easily become so. it’s an uphill battle, but i like to view living as becoming closer to the person i was created to be. as we live, we have all these sides giving us input, shaping us. what we believe shifts who we are. we need to be selective as to which voices we are buying into. are these voices bringing us closer to the loving, whole person we are created to be?

god as a forgiving figurei believe god is forgiving. again, i believe in an evil force too, but i believe that god’s doors stay open. this isn’t an end. 

everything is a gift / god in everythingwhich brings it full circle. i believe god’s hand is in all the beautiful things. the giggly groupchats and sleep overs. the gasps of surprised joy and the dark chocolate. love love love love so many types of love. comfy beds. so much can be a religious experience.

further reading, from twenty one pilots to tags to the message-

i encourage you to also take a peek at my thread on coping mechanisms in twenty one pilots’ discography. it’s extremely difficult for me to separate top from my faith.

as for the trinity… just as i have different facets (daughter, friend, lover, coworker, etc) i believe that god can have different facets as well- the divine figure who is all knowing, the figure who has experiences humanness, and the spirit that comes closer, inhibiting the rest. tbr, i don’t find this concept extremely important. it’s all god to me, whatever.

again, thank you so so much for giving me space to talk about this. it’s so generous and kind and open of you. i am genuinely honored. it’s something that is very engrained into the way i see the world, tho i know i do not speak of it often. it’s difficult for me to find the vocabulary for something that is so based on feeling and experience for me.

if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask! i’d really love the dialogue.

if you want a jumping off place for what i believe, the message bible is really cool. you can read it in book form from your library, or online for free. start at luke, or matthew/mark/john- just any of the four books about jesus. read the words, not what you’ve heard in politics or church. i can’t stress this enough. the more i read, the less i see a connection between these institutions.

i also have a faith tag on my personal blog. you can get a feel for what i believe here.

i hope that was vaguely interesting to someone :)) again feel free to ask any questions 

xxx you are loved for who you are and the true you you are becoming

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Post A. Initial Ideas

Character Profile 

*Developed character profile Ideas: 

Hugo needed an addition to his character, something that would add depth and further justification for his artistic behavior towards strangers. After research and reflection on my focal films, I decided that my protagonist needed an underlying problem, that in no means defines Hugo but is an addition to his life he cannot avoid, but instead of allowing it to have a negative effect on his life, he embraces it and uses it to channel his creativity. This condition is short term memory loss, something that would effect his life a lot more significantly if he didn't remember places and faces by drawing them, because of this Hugo will no longer dispose of the drawings after each sketch.   

Character links to creative investigation 

I was inspired by the character of chance from my focal film Being There, Chance is simple and sheltered, naive to the world and the political corruption surrounding him, this isn't the main focal point or motif in the film, it instead makes the picture more innocent. For Hugo, he needed more substance to his character, his condition is not always apparent, like Chance (although it is not proven that Chance has a particular condition, his difference and distance from other people could be interpreted.) I also wanted Harold’s personality (from Harold and Maude) to come through, how he is an outsider but an undoubted individual.  

When developing my initial ideas i was unsure whether i was going to use a male or female protagonist, so explored both, deciding on a male protagonist as i felt a better connection between narrative and Hugo, i had a better backstory and had someone in mind to play him, I am confident in my decision ~ 

Sound 

Music

Cat Stevens

Cat Stevens produced the whole sound track to my focal film Harold and Maude, so I wish to play homage to this. By putting ‘Don’t be Shy’ or ‘If you want to sing out’ on the record player at the start of my short.

 “Don't be shy just let your feelings roll on by Don't wear fear or nobody will know you're there Just lift your head, and let your feelings out instead”

These are some of the main lyrics too ‘Don’t be Shy,’ the lyrics can be easily applied to my narrative, Hugo cannot be afraid or let his memory condition effect his happiness, he is also a great example of ‘letting his feelings roll by” as he often shows emotional feelings to the public. 

“You can do what you want The opportunity's on And if you can find a new way You can do it today”

This is lyrics from ‘If you want to sing out’ Hugo takes on opportunities to express himself through art because he cannot without. 

Hozier

I have already decided what music will be played over the credits, ‘Someone new’ by Hozier, as this was a song that helped come up with the originals storyline, especially the following lyrics; 

“Would things be easier If there was a right way, honey there is no right wayAnd so I fall in love just a little ol' little bit Every day with someone new”

and 

“Love with every stranger, the stranger the better”

These lyrics helped inspire my film, but I believe it will be to much, to direct, to have it playing as the main soundtrack to the film, over the credits, as a conclusion and summery to the short, will be ideal. 

Original Soundtrack by Jan Van Beem

 Similar to how Cat Stevens wrote the whole soundtrack to Harold and Maude, my lovely, musical friend Jan has written a score for The Recollection of Yesterday. It is upbeat and follows the atmosphere I wanted to convey in the film, using string also reflects the music by Stevens.

Dialogue

In previous films i have made i have tried to avoid dialogue to retain quality in the short, however i felt this film needed dialogue to reflect my focal films beautiful scripts and language, I will only include dialogue when i deem it necessary to help the plot and establish character, for example in the final scene (see Post C. Screenplay.)   

Mise En Scene 

Props

Protagonist’s sketchbook and art utensils

The sketchbook is essentially the most important prop in the film as it is what Hugo, the protagonist communicates through and how the audience understands Hugo’s artistic background, as well as understanding his coping mechanism to help deal with the memory loss. 

Pencils, pens and paintbrushes can be seen tucked behind Hugo’s ear and in his pockets again portraying his artsy side and the readiness to create art.

Record Player

A short note on the record player in the film. I feel this is an important and notable prop in the film as it is aesthetic and demonstrates the old fashioned setting the protagonist lives in compared to the modern everyday. Through this, the extremely important soundtrack and score will be or appear to be communicated, this will also replicate aspects of two of my focal films, Being There and Harold and Maude, for example Maude plays the piano and the sound continues on throughout the following scenes. 

Setting

The settings are relatively simple but should be exceedingly effective in the short as they should help frame Hugo’s personality. The settings will be fully established in the recce report (post ) but briefly; there will be six different settings, the living room which appears to be the most personal to Hugo, the cafe, a bus, a park/ park bench, an art gallery and a quiet street. I intend to use only natural light to film in these locations, perhaps with the exception of the living room which may use lighting to achieve a more ambient setting. 

Costume

See character profile  

Cinematography and Editing link to creative investigation 

I think I will take most influence from Harold and Maude as i love the cinematography in this film, especially from the key scene i selected, Harold’s positioning in the shot will be really interesting to replicate in Hugo’s world. I also intend to use the technique Ashby used to create tension when the doctor walks down the corridor (see post B.)

I think it will be interesting and perhaps surprising to include the editing technique I noted from The Last Detail, the wades and wipes, on one scene in my film will add contrast, initially i imagine this in the Art gallery scenes. 

I also love the framing in Being There, filling the camera shot with a building or group of people, i can imagine this in the cafe scene, involving the audience in the atmosphere of the cafe. I really want to portray the influence of Ashby in my film, after studying him intensely for my creative investigation, I have learnt quirks and smaller details that make his films unique and personal, through details in my own film i will hopefully represent Ashby, especially through my protagonist and cinematography.     

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The State of CPS • Independent After-School Programs Fill Void Left By Funding Cuts

Special Report • Part 3 of 5

This week, TheseDays’ latest addition, Nicole Kreizel, dives into the current state of operations at Chicago Public Schools. CPS has a long history of budget shortfalls and school closings, and the back and forth between Springfield and Chicago has been contentious. The latest sparring between Rahm Emanuel and Bruce Rauner has caused the public schools’ situation heading into 2017 to become a flashpoint in the state’s agenda.

Politicians, along with teachers, parents, students and nonprofits, have all shaped, and are continuing to contribute to, Chicago’s educational landscape. Over the course of the next five days, we will delve into the key decisions and issues within this realm.

Bearing in mind the financial atmosphere that the state often leaves CPS in, money allocated to activities not recognized as ‘necessary’ by the powers that be has largely run dry. Working to fill this void, a coalition of independent organizations and school co-ops focused on the arts has sprung up.

“For kids having a difficult time at home or at school, art can be a survival tool,” said Dominique Chestand, a teaching artist for the community organization Young Chicago Authors (YCA) located off the corner of Division & Ashland in Wicker Park. As a student in CPS, she first attended St. Ailbe Catholic School, a neighborhood school on the South Side, and then enrolled at Young Women’s Leadership Charter School in Douglas; she was not happy in school until she discovered writing and poetry and found others with similar interests. “I’ve seen the arts keep kids in school and alive…to cut this survival tool from schools, especially in black and brown neighborhoods, is basically a death sentence for some students.”

YCA and YOUmedia, a similar organization located first at Harold Washington Library and then in schools across the city, serve as safe spaces for Chicago’s youth. YCA encourages these students, many of  whom regularly face the type of violence, segregation and inequality that plague the city, to develop their voices through writing, publication and performance education. Art and spoken word programs help students create their own narratives in a community that surpasses cultural and socioeconomic boundaries.

YCA’s weekly workshops in poetry, journalism and performance art, along with the organization's Wordplay spoken word forums, have also served as a catalyst for easing divisions in the city. Through YCA, Chicagoans from different neighborhoods, who might not interact otherwise, are able to communicate and understand each other.

While nonprofits like YCA and YOUmedia help fill in the gaps that CPS leaves, they also prove how vital art, reading and writing programs are for students, and why these vacuums must be filled.

Chestand has been involved with YCA since she was 13, and through this program, she learned about the importance of role models. The artists who taught and inspired Chestand are still in her life, and the same goes for her YCA peers. Chestand and her fellow artists have all watched each other grow, she said, and become mentors in their own rights. The transition from student to mentor made Chestand want to become a better artist, as she both learns from her students and strives to have a positive impact on them.

“I think what is also really powerful is that when you are a black artist and you are going into these spaces where people see blackness as something that’s monotonous, that blacks are only good at one or two things or have certain driven paths, it is important to have an adult come into these spaces who has made her own path as an artist and as a person who wants to succeed, and who has a similar background as they have,” said Chestand. “It is good [for them] to see what the other options are.”

Grammy Award-winning Chance The Rapper and Saba, among other artists like Vic Mensa, Noname, Malcolm London and Mick Jenkins, got their start in YCA and YOUmedia. They have attributed the open mics and their mentors in these creative spaces to their growth and success as artists. These hip-hop and poetry legends were able to watch each other perform and inspire each other through these programs.

When Mike Hawkins, better known as Brother Mike, passed away in 2014, Chance and London started the monthly “Open Mike” series to honor the death of the YOUmedia leader who changed the lives of many Chicago youths who attended his Lyrical Loft at Harold Washington Library in the Loop. By offering students a place where they could express themselves and be heard, Hawkins paved the way for his mentees to “turn moments into movements,” as he said. His students have indeed done this, and  we’ve since enjoyed the blossoming ‘Chicago Renaissance’ that has placed the city and its artists front and center on a worldwide scale.

Tara Mahadevan, who runs a journalism program at YCA, said that the Open Mikes and YCA programs are places where students who might feel frustrated by social injustices both inside and outside of their schools can openly voice their thoughts. She explained how this self-expression can serve as a coping mechanism and a form of self-care for students who feel like they have to hide their emotions or hold their tongues elsewhere.

“YCA is a space where people can flourish and grow into themselves...not only do they feel safe, but no one says they’re wrong,” said Mahadevan. Mentors like Coval, who started Louder than a Bomb (LTAB), a teen poetry slam that empowers young writers from all over Chicago, encourage youths to strengthen their voices.

Some powerful figures and mentors, like London, the 2011 winner of LTAB, have transformed their voices into actions in the political realm. London is a leader of the Black Youth Project, an organization dedicated to creating justice and freedom for all black people. He helped organize a National Moment of Silence in response to the events in Ferguson in 2014, and led a protest march in the wake of the release of the video of Laquan McDonald being shot in 2015.  Likewise, many members of Black Youth Project, such as rapper Ric Wilson, have traveled as far as the United Nations to stand up against issues like police violence and education funding.

The Open Mike, another one of London’s projects, brings high school students together from all over the city to express themselves and connect with each other in an open environment. Chicago has long been known as, arguably, one of the most segregated cities in the world. With lower-income, minority citizens largely populated on the city’s west and south sides, the dynamics of the city and who is accepted where has been complicated. In the wake of sweeping arrests of gang leaders in the late 90s, however, the divisions between neighborhoods became more entrenched, to almost block-by-block contingents shooting at one another.

In a city where kids can take a bullet for walking down the wrong street to school, inclusionary events like Open Mike allow students from all corners of the city to gather in a common, positive space. At one of the early Open Mikes, Chance stood onstage as teenagers got up to leave and urged them to speak to one another, to communicate: “We’re in Hyde Park, there’s a train that way, a bus that way,” he instructed the crowd, pointing to his left and right. “You’re all in this together, you are Chicago, take care of one another, walk together, keep each other safe.”

Lanai Moon, a senior at Lindblom Math and Science Academy, values spaces like these where creative minds can collaborate. “You can see the different perspectives of other students and the issues around Chicago...it’s a good time to have conversations, schools are not having enough conversations,” she said. “People feel more included in whatever the conversation is [in these spaces] and can express their opinions; it’s amazing to see that so many people agree with you or disagree, and you can learn who you are in another group of people.”

Moon also talked about the importance of mentors, to encourage students to have these discussions and guide them in their creative works.

Someone else who, interestingly enough, has voiced similar ideas, is our own city’s mayor. Emanuel stressed the importance of role models in his speech on Chicago violence in September 2016. He said that many young men turn to gangs and crime in search of praise and hope, as they lack positive role models to help them make productive decisions, overcome obstacles and reach their goals. Emanuel even called out the 7,200 at-risk young men in eighth, ninth and 10th grade in CPS in the 20 most crime-plagued neighborhoods, who desperately need access to positive alternatives.

Again, Emanuel was on the same page as many artists and education advocates when he awarded Chance with the 2014 “Outstanding Youth of the Year” award, praising Chance for giving himself to the upward mobility of the state’s youth.

The Emanuel administration has found itself in a unique situation, as it forces schools to cut extracurricular programs and deprioritize the arts at the same time it toasts Chance as a face of Chicago’s music scene and an active mentor to Chicago’s youth. The juxtaposition is not lost on Chancelor Bennett, who rapped on his recent single “Angels”: “I guess that's why they call it where I stay/Clean up the streets, so my daughter can have somewhere to play.”

The contingent of artists incubated in the after-school programs developed their artistic understanding and stage presence to express their thoughts and experiences dealing with the socioeconomic circumstances surrounding them. They use these outlets to discuss difficult subjects like violence and discrimination, along with other topics such as enduring relationships, common dreams, shared struggles as artists and the everyday meanderings of the teenage mind.

Inspired by the work of mentors like Hawkins and YCA coordinator Kevin Coval, Chance recently unveiled his ‘Social Works’ initiative at his ‘Magnificent Coloring Day’ festival on the South Side. While the city continued cutting budgets and closing schools, these humble institutions stepped in to bring the city together and spark a new, unprecedented era for Chicago’s arts and music scene.

“That place [YOUmedia] saved our lives,” said London, who grew up in Austin, to the Chicago Tribune. “When we were upset and angry that was our place to go. We went to the library to write.”

To revisit the paradox between the government’s words and actions: In the same speech from last year, Emanuel mentioned that he would invest $36 million over the next three years to expand mentoring programs; three short months later, however, Rauner took $215 million away from CPS.

These budget cuts hurt the same at-risk students in poor, crime-plagued neighborhoods that Emanuel spoke about earlier. The neighborhood high school in London and Saba’s home neighborhood of Austin, labeled an area with the highest crime rate in 2015, is under-enrolled and under-funded (The Atlantic). Because of the open-enrollment system, there are about 390 students in a building meant for 1,700, and as the number of students drops, so does the school’s funding (The Atlantic). Minimal budgets, weakened by enrollment numbers, have eliminated programs and teachers, and left the remaining students with bleak futures.

Back in 2013, CPS closed seven schools in Englewood, another area known for its violence, because the schools were underused and performing poorly (Englewood Portal). This was traumatic, as schools are often the glue of communities, and many students were displaced into “receiving schools” in gang territories and unfamiliar neighborhoods. In the schools that remained, teachers had to be let go, along with performance-boosting after-school programs (Englewood Portal). The school closures led to declining academic performance and forced some children to attend other schools in gang territories (Englewood Portal).

It seems like these two politicians should put state money where their mouths are and address the current education situation. Both have been quick to champion the achievements of the city’s artistic class, while simultaneously cutting the legs out from under the next crop of creatives. As city and state lawmakers continue to divest funds from extracurricular and arts-based programming within CPS, the importance of independent organizations is magnified.

When resources are stripped away from marginalized people in CPS,  students who might not excel in standard school subjects, but who find themselves in their art, might have a difficult time. With her strong focus in the arts, Chestand discussed how finding her passion, poetry, drew her out of a period of depression. But what happens to students who do not find outside programs like YCA to fill the void CPS is leaving?

“You can’t really talk about CPS without talking about the local government, or YCA, or music culture, or art culture or the rap scene; they are all so deeply intertwined,” said Mahadevan.

As CPS drains money from music and art programs, though, students walking along these interwoven paths might reach dead ends.