#i was working on my first ever oil painting in art class yesterday and had to resist the urge to eat.paint

[lizard-dumbass]

I want to eat oil paint

[moonbeambucky]

I Promise (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader Word Count: 4106 Warnings: fluff, smut, pregnancy

Summary: Before heading to Mars Chris Beck reconnects with his best friend, unaware of the outcome of their night together. With the burden of his mission will Chris make a promise he can’t keep?

A/N: My first Chris Beck fic! Rather than a really long one shot I’m splitting it into two parts. A big thank you to my love Allie @all1e23​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️ gif source (x)

“Hey.”

The soft resonance of Chris’ voice brings tears to your eyes, ones you couldn’t help from slipping out. They fall down the curve of your cheeks past the uneasy smile you wore.

“I kept my promise,” he said. Chris flashed the top row of his bright white teeth, his mouth curving into a boyish smile that reached his eyes, the fine lines crinkling around them. He tilted his head as he looked at you through the screen, a comforting gaze that made you feel as if he was there with you. 

The quality of the video chat is near perfect making you almost forget Chris was millions of miles away. He looked the same, not that you expected him to look different. It had only been a few months since you last saw each other. 

His hair looks darker than usual but you suppose it’s the low lighting of the small room he’s in. He’s bundled up in a thick NASA sweatshirt and you can see several more layers he has on beneath the collar. Chris looks tired but that’s expected, what he’s doing right now is not a walk in the park. You know it’s the reason why it’s taken so long for him to contact you but you wish he did it sooner. 

More tears flood your eyes, burning their way out as you wished he never left at all. You can barely hear Chris over the sound of your own sobs.

“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded.

You lifted your head towards the screen and seeing the concern on his face only made you miss him more, wishing he was there to console you in person.

Your hand swept away tears from your cheek as your voice cracked saying his name. “Chris…” 

The streets are simmering with the heat of a summer that couldn’t wait to officially start. Calendars be damned, it was hot. You indulged in a cool shower when you got home from work but time didn’t allow for a languid evening of staying in your towel as you applied serums and moisturizers, lotions and creams and every other post-shower pampering you normally do. Tonight was dinner with a friend and you needed to get ready.

Chatter filled the air of the patio, a small secluded outdoor space at the back of an Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. It had an Old World Tuscan feel, from the stucco walls that looked purposely imperfect. Green patina shutters hung beside a wrought iron lantern that glowed in the early evening. Lush greens and bright flowers sat atop the half wall that surrounded the dining area making you forget you were in the city.

Chris looked the same, not that you expected him to be different. It had only been about two years since you’ve seen each other, right before he began training for his mission and now you can’t believe it was about to happen. Never would you have expected that the little boy down the block who became your best friend would actually be going to Mars.

For most of your lives you were in the same school, starting in Mrs. Kramer’s kindergarten class where you stuck together; two kids that were nervous about making friends and finding comfort in each other. As the years went on you weren’t always in the same classes but your friendship continued to grow. Chris was picked on for having a girl as a best friend and the girls always teased that he was your “boyfriend.” It never felt that way with Chris. He was your friend first and you never saw him as anything more. 

By the time you were in middle school Chris was already taking advanced classes in math and science and the only class you had together was art which he was famously terrible at. It was there you asked him a huge favor, whispering to him at the sink as you rinsed off your paint brushes. “Could you kiss me?” Chris turned as red as a boiling lobster, immediately sweating as if he was being roasted alive himself. It was later that day walking home from school that you clarified what you meant.

There was a boy, Justin Kaufman, who was the coolest kid in your grade. You had a crush on him like everyone else and you were shocked when he asked if you would go with him to the dance on Friday. You were worried he might try to kiss you and being inexperienced made you nervous. Justin was really popular and if you were a bad kisser then the whole school would know it. Chris was your friend, someone you trusted, someone you could practice with just to make sure you didn’t make a fool of yourself. 

You had no frame of reference for kissing back then apart from one sided smooches to pictures of movie stars that you had a crush on. But feeling Chris’ lips press back against yours was… nice. The best part about it was that things didn’t feel awkward after. Chris was still your best friend and nothing changed. 

A server hands you a menu and you thank him, scanning through it to see what you might be interested in. Chris looks up at the same time you do, wondering if you wanted an appetizer.  You nodded letting him choose, considering the limited food options he’ll have for over the next year. 

“Can you drink?”

Chris’ nose crinkled as he smiled. “In space? No. Tonight? Yes,” he chuckled softly. 

Two glasses of red wine were set on the table as you indulged in delicious food, catching up as much as you could before Chris’ mission. 

“So you’d love what happened today,” you began, leaning closer, “We filmed a restoration video and yours truly was in it.”

Chris’ eyes lit up as he gasped. “I love those! You have to send it to me. Hopefully I can see it before I go. What was it?”

“A sixteenth century European oil painting.” You went into detail and Chris loved listening to your knowledge of art history. It was no wonder that was your major, taking your studies further to work as a conservator at the Met.

Chris swallowed his food quickly to speak. “You were always good at that– art, attention to detail. Remember when we had to sculpt our own faces?” he chuckled.

There was a short burst of laughter as you remembered that day from so long ago. “Yes! Thankfully the real you doesn’t look anything like that abomination you made.” 

Chris drops his head down to hide a bashful smile that mixed in with laughter. He’s enjoying himself, catching up with you, eating. This was so good. He couldn’t help but scoop up another forkful of pasta, not expecting you to ask him a question. “So, how are you feeling?”

He paused to reflect and wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I’m nervous… excited.” Taking a sip of wine, he sets the glass down carefully on the table. Chris’ face has grown more serious. “My mom’s worried.”

���Of course she is, I don’t blame her. I’m worried. Mars is… well it’s Mars! It’s not around the block.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s definitely not.” 

Chris is heading home to Connecticut tomorrow to spend the next few days with his parents. Chloe, his younger sister is coming in as well so they can all spend some time together before he has to fly down to Florida.

“Then it’s go for launch!” he said with a beaming smile, though Chris had to correct himself for the sake of accuracy. Once he’s down there the crew has to quarantine for at least ten days and go through a bunch of pre-flight checkups and procedures first. “Are you gonna watch?”

The incredulous look you gave him answered his question. “Did you really have to ask? Of course I’m going to watch the launch.” 

His eyes twinkled as he smiled back at you. “Oh and don’t worry I put you on my contact list so you can send me emails. Not sure how quickly I'll get them since CAPCOM directs it back to us. And as long as we have the right satellite coverage we can even do video calls.”

“Like Facetime?”

“In theory yeah, more like space Skype,” he laughed. “It’ll be nice to stay in touch.”

Your smile was bright in the dimness of the evening. You can’t imagine not staying in touch with Chris. The longest you had ever gone was during his Air Force training. He checked in with his parents when he first arrived and from then on it was sporadic. You were able to send him letters though and tried to write him every week though your own schooling and an apprenticeship at the Louvre had taken up a lot of time but that was how your relationship was. 

No matter where you were in life, across the world or hovering above it in the International Space Station, you always kept in touch. It’ll be harder now considering he’s going farther than ever before but you’ll make it work. 

Chris would be back by next November and his mom was already planning a big party for his return, one he’s certain you’ll be invited to. Though you haven’t seen his parents in a while you still kept in touch with them from time to time seeing as they were still friends with your own parents.

“It’s crazy to think you’re about to go to Mars.” 

Chris swipes a palm down his mouth, leaning his elbows against the table as he muses, “I know. Feels like I got the call yesterday.”

It was a night similar to this one, where Chris was in New York celebrating with you and other friends on his selection to be part of the Ares III mission. He had been working at NASA for a few years, doing biomedical research in their center in Virginia and now he was about a month out from spending two years training for his long term mission to Mars. 

He stayed at your apartment that night, continuing the celebration in your own private way. You had come a long way from learning to kiss with Chris. It wasn’t a big deal, neither was it the first time you had sex with each other. It was a special dynamic that worked for the two of you, one you don’t think you could have pulled off with anyone else. With Chris you had trust that was built up over the years. He was safe, he was your friend and this was nothing more than just sex. 

It didn’t happen too often, a couple of times here and there. You both dated a few people over the years and even though you were single at the moment you thought about the promise you made to each other as teens. “If we’re not married to other people by the time we’re thirty let’s promise we’ll marry each other.” Such a silly promise but thirty seemed so far away at the time. 

Chris couldn’t make it to celebrate for your thirtieth birthday but you did get a card from him where he joked that the wedding was off. You were in a long term relationship, one that Chris thought would lead to marriage but you ended things a year later. It wasn’t there; that natural spark that made your heart skip a beat every time they smiled brighter than the sun, or when their eyes sparkled like stars in the night every time they looked at you. 

You walked through the streets with Chris after dinner, casually strolling back towards your apartment and stretching out the inevitable goodbye that you didn’t want to say. It was so good to be with him in person again, not realizing how badly you missed it until the hours started ticking closer towards him leaving. By the time you get to your apartment Chris decided to come up stairs, wanting to spend as much of his time with you as he could. 

Chris sits comfortably on your couch, cozied up beside a large pillow. He places his wine glass down on your coffee table, needing to gesticulate with both hands as he starts getting into talking about his research. He’s been published before in numerous academic journals and now he’s going on about how excited he is for his latest topic, musculoskeletal alterations and the effects of deep space travel. 

He’s cute when he really gets into it, crinkles pulling around the corner of his eyes as his whole face lights up. You let out a shaky breath, smiling even wider yourself as you watched the passion he had for science and learning, one that matched the level you had for art and preserving their history. 

Chris apologized for rambling on, taking a sip of wine to clear the dryness from his throat. 

“So, give me the lowdown… can you jerk off in space?” 

He covered his mouth to prevent the wine he was choking on from spitting out. You couldn’t help the sly smile on your face that cracked wider the redder he became. 

“Well?”

Chris cleared his throat again. Pinching the bridge of his nose he looked down into his glass, chuckling a bit as he said, “The official stance from NASA is no comment so I’m going to stick with that.” 

“That’s not an answer!” You could barely hold a faux sneer before you broke into a smile. Teasing Chris was all in good fun, something that went both ways from the time you were young. 

You adjusted the way your legs were folded underneath you, brushing your knee against his leg. Chris lifted his arm up, a silent invitation for you to get closer and so you did, resting your head against him as his arm came around you.

Things had quieted down and you listened to the steady beat of his heart. This would be the last time you would see Chris for a long time. Your arm reached around to hold him for as long as you could.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whispered against him. 

Chris’ chest sunk as he exhaled a deep sigh. “I’m going to miss you too.” His arm squeezed a little tighter around you as he pressed his lips gently against your forehead. “Just look to the stars and I’ll be there.” 

His words brought a comforting smile to your face, one you shared with him as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Do you want to stay?”

The corner of his mouth tugs a little as Chris thinks about it. There’s nothing he really misses at his hotel more than he does you. The only reason he came to New York was to see you first before going home. 

“Yeah, I’d love to stay.”

You shifted yourself on top to straddle Chris, carding your fingers through his hair and taking in the gaze of his eyes that became pools of deep blue. You closed the distance between your lips, feeling his hands come around your back. Soft moans bubbled in your throat and soon you found yourself being carried to the bedroom. 

Clothes were discarded, lips were on skin that burned hotter than the stars. You writhe against him, thighs quivering around his head, reaching out to grip him by the hair, holding Chris in place as he coaxed out your release. His lips taste like you and he licks them again, savoring your sweetness as he crawls up your body. 

He tears open the condom, gathering your wetness on him as he slowly pushed in. A sinful moan falls from your lips as you feel the stretch of him inside you, inch by inch until he was fully seated. An experimental roll of his hips sets the pace for pleasure. 

Your hands graze up the curve of his arms, reaching his back and digging in half moon shapes into his skin with your nails as he thrusts into you.

“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, moaning as his hips snapped forward. His name fell from your lips, a sweet sound that he couldn’t deny he loved hearing. 

He changed his angle, hitting you with deeper, longer strokes. His mouth found your nipple, sucking at your peak as his hips gained speed; groaning and squeezing his eyes tightly as he fucked you, ready to explode.

“Shit!” Chris hissed, backing off quickly. You’re confused and concerned, sitting up and turning the light on beside your bed to see what was wrong. “The condom broke,” he said, still catching his breath.

Chris got up to discard it in the bathroom as you sat on the bed, crossing an arm over your chest, waiting nervously. When Chris walked back in the room he apologized for that, the stiffness of his length giving you relief that he hadn’t finished so you continued. Using your hands on him as he let out soft moans, distractedly opening another condom that you rolled down on him. You straddled him, leaning forward to capture his lips for a sweet kiss first before you lined yourself up and sank down on him. 

Soon enough you were riding waves of bliss together, gripping Chris as you clenched around him, burning white hot behind your eyes. He’s right behind you, on the edge of pleasure, exploding inside you like a supernova.

Dropping your head onto his chest, it felt like your body was made of overcooked noodles that splayed loosely against him as you were desperate to catch your breath, coming down from the heights you soared to. Chris’ arms hold you close against him, his lips languidly peppering kisses to your sheen covered skin. 

When his heartbeat returned to a steady pace Chris went to the bathroom to once again discard the condom and you followed behind him to use it. He went to the kitchen to get something to drink, bringing back an ice cold glass of water for you. 

Back in bed you cuddled together, with goosebumps breaking out on your skin as Chris’ fingertips graze gently up and down your arm. Your eyes feel heavy but you don’t want to give in because when you wake up you know you’ll have to say goodbye and that’s not something you want to do. 

“You’ll stay in touch, right?” you murmured against him, as worry took root within your stomach. His quick and emphatic reply should have been enough but you couldn’t help yourself from needing to make sure you would still hear from him during the mission. “And call me? With the space Skype?”

“I promise,” he said, as a smile spread across his face. Chris’ hand stopped moving, settling on your arm and holding you close. 

“Promise me one more thing?” He hummed in response and you continued, “Stay safe up there.”

Chris tilted his head down and feeling him shift you looked up as he said, “I promise.”

In the moonlight his eyes sparkled like clear tropical waters. Slowly, a soft smile spread across your face as you stared at him. “I love you, Chris.” There was no romanticism behind it even after being together, just pure love for your friend. 

Chris exhaled, planting a kiss to your temple. “I love you too, Y/N.” 

Despite wanting to spend your remaining hours together awake you reluctantly fell asleep in his arms, tearfully parting in the morning. Two weeks later you watched as the space shuttle launched, with proud tears filling your eyes as Chris’ picture flashed on your screen along with the rest of the crew. Seeing that made you feel hopeful and overjoyed at the prospect of hearing from him soon.

“Chris… I’m pregnant.” It was a relief to finally tell him but you didn’t feel any better, uncertainty weighed heavy on your shoulders, crushing the space for your lungs to expand. Chris knows but now what?

He’s silent, his lips parted slightly and you don’t know if there’s a delay in the feed. Maybe you should have emailed it to him. You were going to at first and instead chose to word the importance of needing to speak to him in such a clandestine way that you were contacted by someone from NASA. Upon speaking to them they allowed your email to be dispatched and then you waited. 

Chris’ eyebrows knit together, his shoulders slumping down as he stared at your face through the screen. He didn’t have any doubts, you were always truthful with each other, but he still wondered how.

“We put on a new one, I thought…” 

“I thought we were good too,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. 

You weren’t just pregnant, you were pregnant with his child and based off of some quick calculations in his head you were nearing the end of your first trimester. “H-how are you? I mean, how are you feeling?”

“Physically or…” Nervous laughter bubbles out of your throat. 

This was hard on you, the physical symptoms weren’t fun but you could manage. What was more difficult was not telling anyone. It was early enough in your pregnancy that you could hide it from your family. They still lived in Hartford and hadn’t been down to visit yet but you couldn’t avoid them forever. Work was a different story. You had to let your boss know you would have to modify your duties as working around solvents and other chemicals would not be safe.

There was never a doubt in your mind about keeping the baby. When you were younger you imagined having children by now but it didn’t work out that way. It was something you were okay with, finding life fulfilling in different ways. Work was incredible, you were able to travel and though your relationships hadn’t worked out in the past you didn’t hold on to any resentments. Life was always complete and now things were going to be different. 

You wanted to speak to Chris first before telling your family because you needed to know your expectations. Chris had a life of his own and you didn’t want your choice of having a baby to make him feel obligated in any way. You were an adult; a smart, independent woman and could do this on your own.

“I know this isn’t something we planned but…” Chris exhaled, the corners of his mouth lifting upward, “There’s no one I’d rather do this with than you... I promise.” 

Chris’ eyes glisten with tears as his smile grows and you find yourself brushing away your own from the corner of your eyes. It was comforting to know Chris will be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully it would have been weird if he wasn’t in some capacity considering how close you were. For now you have a lot of time on how you’re going to figure things out for the future.

After the call Chris reflected in silence, staring out of the giant triangular windows of one of the Hermes’ common areas into the vastness of space. He was lost in thought, startled by his name being called by a crewmate. He turned to see Mark whose bright smile fell with concern upon seeing Chris’ face, asking if he was alright.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Chris responded, his tone mournful in the realization he’ll be missing the birth. He accepted the congratulatory hug Mark gave him, sighing heavily as they separated. “I always thought I’d be there for that.” 

You were due in March and Chris hated the fact that he won't be there for the first nine months of his child’s life, moments and milestones he’ll never get back. He doesn’t like leaving this all on you. He knows you can do it but you shouldn’t have to. 

“I can’t pretend this isn’t hard but don’t think of it in terms of what you’re missing, look at what you’re gaining, what you have to look forward to when you come home.” Chris nodded, his smile trying to come back. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend,” Mark teased. 

“I don’t. Y/N, she’s…” Chris’ face lights up as he thinks about you, which does not go unnoticed by Mark. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s always meant so much to me and now…” 

Mark gave Chris an honest smile as he spoke plainly, “And now you’re having a baby.” 

With a proud smile that stretched from ear to ear he affirmed, “Yeah… we are.” 

PART 2

[purplesurveys]

1051

Are you between the ages of 30 & 40? I still have to get through nearly another decade to get to that decade.

What was your favorite Saturday morning cartoon growing up? My favorites were The Wild Thornberrys and Little Bill, both on Nickelodeon. My sister and I also enjoyed this wacky show called The Upside Down Show but it wasn’t a cartoon.

What was your favorite toy as a child? I liked any toy that had a lot of buttons or features within it - dollhouses, kitchen sets, cash registers, toy phones, anything that could make me test how much it could do.

In High School did you wear acid washed jeans? No. It’s not a style I would be drawn to, then and now.

How much was a gallon of gasoline when you first started driving? I don’t know; I never paid much attention to gas prices, honestly.

What was your first car? It’s a 2014 (or 2015?) Mitsubishi Mirage I’m still using today, though it was my dad who paid for it and he’s the one who takes it out for oil changes and stuff.

Who taught you how to drive? My dad taught me a few times around the neighborhood, but he also enrolled me for like three classes in a driving school so that I got to learn how to drive in a highway.

What was your high school mascot? Both of my schools didn’t have any. My university does have a nickname for our varsity teams, but we’re simply just ‘Maroons’ and not an animal like what I usually see.

Did you go to your Senior Prom? We had a junior prom, nothing for senior year. I was invited to go to the senior ball in another school by Mike, though. That feels like ages ago; everything is so different now.

What did you do after graduation? After my high school graduation I went straight to college like most kids here. After graduating college, I immediately started looking for jobs; I landed an internship after a month and got absorbed into the company two months after.

What was your first job? I’m currently working as an associate at a public relations agency. This is my first job and for now, I’m content in staying in this career. This is where I set out to be when I was in college and I don’t feel the need to change paths any time soon.

What did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be an astronaut more than anything else, but I remember also wanting to be a firefighter or a vet.

Any posters on your bedroom walls growing up? I had a handful of wrestling posters that my mom was never a fan of. It was never her business since it’s my room, but she always made it the case.

Do you remember the first time you drank a beer? It may have been at Marielle’s debut, five Julys ago. She served beer at the afterparty of her 18th birthday party, and I think I had taken my first sip then.

Did you ever try cigarettes? Yeah, I started this year actually. I’m about to reach my first anniversary of trying my first cigarette :/ I don’t have a lot of them though and I haven’t smoked since like February or March, I think.

How did you spend your summers growing up? At home. My parents were always busy with work, so I had no choice but to myself occupied at home. Luckily I had siblings and cousins, so we were always playing with each other. My summers were never productive until I was in college, when I started making the effort to go out more.

If you could change anything from your teenage years, would you? Ahh idk man I wish I wouldn’t have spent as much time by the computer as I did, and maybe hang out with friends or something instead. < Yeah this hits the bullseye pretty much. I was a very introverted teenager. Not to mention the internet and social media started to blow up during my tween/early teenage years, so I was hooked to my laptop and kept people away as a result. I didn’t start feeling like a teenager until I was 16, when I gained friends and got invited to more stuff.

Do you remember your first time? Yeah, it was during one of my 18th birthday celebrations and she was around.

Ever look back and wish some things were still the same? I do it a lot these days. I do try to stop, because I don’t know what I can gain out of doing so anymore, and because there’s always the danger of being left behind from looking back too much; but most days I can’t help it.

After high school - straight to college or straight to work? University, because you kinda need that credential where I live. It’s unfair, but it’s our reality.

How much did you make per hour at your first job? We don’t really calculate that here...I’ll try to do math for y’all lmao aka Google it, which says I make $2.34 an hour. Wow when you put it that way, it really does not sound high :/ I’m honestly okay with my pay though. I live with my parents so I contribute to the bills and stuff now, but even then there’s more than enough left for me. Favorite home-cooked meal growing up? My grandma’s kare-kare. It was/is always reserved for special occasions; and out of all her grandchildren I was also the one who got attached to the dish especially as I got older, so eventually kare-kare also became the family’s ‘Robyn is coming over so we better prepare this’ dish. I think I’m her only grandchild that she has an allotted dish for, so that makes me feel special :)

Favorite place to eat out growing up? The local Burger King, back when it had a play place for kids. 

Did your parents live in a different country before you were born?: No, they have always lived in the Philippines. My mom has always wanted to migrate but my dad shoots it down every time.

Do you have a preferred coffee brand?: When it comes to coffee, no. I wanna try out everything. But when it comes to coffee shop ambience, Starbucks all the way.

Have you ever dated someone who was terrible with money?: No. I remember Gab as always being very cautious, responsible, and conscious about money. Her parents sustained her debit card and I’m pretty sure they always gave her a little bit extra, but she never took more than her weekly allowance from the ATM.

If so, how did it affect the relationship?: Money was never an issue, mostly because the money we received during the course of our relationship wasn’t even ours lol; we both received set allowances from our parents. If one of us was running out of cash, we never hesitated to cover for each other first, and we never pressured one another to pay back immediately.

How often do you paint your nails?: Never. 

Do you know anyone who's related to a current or former world leader?: Yeah, I went to high school with a relative of Duterte. She’s super secretive about it, which is pretty understandable. I’m friends with/went to classes with people who are grandchildren of senators and other politicians as well.

Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional?: ...I have no idea how to do that...I always just assumed it’s already taken care of when a part of my salary is deducted lol. I may have to ask my parents about this, whoops.

What is something you don't have any natural talent for?: Anything to do with music. Reading it, playing it, singing, writing songs, etc. Also art and anything to do with creativity.

Did you watch this year's Eurovision?: Ah, my favorite time of the year to mute all my overseas mutuals on Twitter at one point lmao. No, I never caugtht up with it.

Have there been any periods in your life that could be described as being chaotic?: Senior year was a big chaotic war zone. The death of my grandpa and my first breakup coincided with all the crucial college entrance exams. Speaking of college, it was also a period of a lot of heavy decision-making due to me having to make choices of what course I wanted to take in every school I applied to. I barely cried during those few months and it still shocks me to this day how I did it. That was the most I’ve been on autopilot.

What is something you frequently forget?: Where I place my car keys and/or glasses last.

If I looked in your fridge right now, what would I find?: Bread, eggs, a bunch of condiments, butter cheese, vegetables, leftovers, and the grazing box I received from my workplace yesterday. I’m sure there’s more, but I haven’t really stopped and stared at our fridge for a while now.

How do you feel about your body?: I used to feel fairly confident about it; like it was never an issue with me. But truthfully, after being dumped, I’ve started to feel insecure over everything about me.

Who is someone you would like to get to know better?: My teammates at work, Bea and Ysa. They both seem like cool and funny people both in and out of work, and I’d love to get to hang out with them.

If you had to move to a new city, where would you move?: Idk, just somewhere with a lot of opportunities to try new things and meet new people.

Have you ever traveled on a double-decker train?: Nope. I’ve never been on anything double-decker, if I remember correctly.

What's your opinion on assisted suicide?: [trigger warning] I’ve looked into it, but it’s a dead end where I live. That’s all I’ll say, as I don’t want to give others ideas.

At what point do you consider a relationship to be 'long-term?': Fuck if I know anymore. We reached six years and it was a point where I was comfortable and didn’t feel the need to doubt anymore; everything turned out to be a lie in the end. I don’t know anymore. I don’t think about these things anymore.

What jobs did your parents have when you were growing up?: My dad has always been a chef, so he went through all the ranks throughout my childhood until he finally got an executive position when I was in high school. I remember my mom being a receptionist.

Do they still have these jobs? Or different jobs? Or have they retired?: My dad is still in that career path but he doesn’t cook in the kitchen anymore, or at least as much as he used to. He does all the menu planning, evaluating, etc. My mom has shifted to becoming an executive secretary, but she’s still in the hotel industry.

Do you own any winter sports equipment?: I don’t. There’s no reason for me to have any.

Do you have a cell contract plan, or are you on a pre-paid plan?: Prepaid.

Would your parents be okay with you dating someone of another race? I can definitely see my mom reacting, but I know she knows I won’t let her get away with saying anything mildly offensive. My dad would just go on with his life and will care more about the fact that I’m seeing someone, lol.

Do you like when friends stop by unexpectedly? No. Schedule it ahead and let me know. I’m not always mentally okay and them showing up as a surprise might just make me more stressed than grateful.

Where are the following people and what are they doing: mom, dad, sibling(s), best friend, significant other, ex, and last person you kissed? My entire family is under the same roof in their bedrooms, either sleeping or having just woken up. Angela is in Parañaque, probably at a cousin’s place; no significant other; I have no idea where my ex, and also the last person I kissed, is. She doesn’t really have anything to do with me anymore.

How strong are your feelings for the last person you kissed? They’re there. I’d still take a bullet for them if it comes down to it, the usual shit. Let’s move on.

What was the last thing someone else bought for you? My workplace gave me a grazing box as the company Christmas gift.

If your parents looked in your purse/book bag would they find anything you don’t want them to see? What about your bedroom? Do you have anything hidden in there? My vape pens. I came home from Starbucks last weekend and my mom thought my breath smelled like cigarettes and she almost got super pissed until I was able to convince her the only thing I put in my mouth was coffee, so I know my 22 year old, employed, self-earning ass would for sure still get in trouble if I was discovered to be vaping.

How close are you to the last person you hung out with? Can you be your complete self around them? It was the first time I met them and they are also my bosses, so I can’t exactly be my complete self around them yet. I had to act super reserved and to essentially make a good impression first before I start whipping out my jokes or whatever.

If you decided to call your ex right now, do you think he/she would answer? How would the conversation go? No, she’d reject it and tell me to text instead. If she was feeling snappy she would also tell me I’m no longer in the place to contact her that way. Sigh. Who is she anymore and why is she so different from the person I was with?

Are you attracted to the last person you exchanged numbers with? No.

Is music a daily part of your life? It’s not. Videos, more like.

Yellow nail polish: yes or no? Bright or neon yellow is a no, but I suppose more muted shades like mustard yellow can work for me.

What do you think of country music? Eh, not a fan. I would skip it in a second, and I never think about it.

Have you ever ended a relationship but wish you could’ve kept it a little longer? I’ve never ended a relationship.

Did you go to your high school’s graduation? Yes...that’s not an event I would’ve wanted to miss out on lol. That was a nice day. My grandparents came to watch me, and we had dinner at a revolving restaurant after.

If you could live the last three months over again, is there anything you’d change? Everything went to shit exactly three months ago, so this hits home very hard for me. Yes, I would change a lot of things for life not to have gone the way it has.

Who was the last person to message you on Facebook? What would you do if that person told you they have feelings for you? My mom. I would be creeped out and tell my dad immediately.

How did you feel when you woke up today? Melancholic.

Who was the first person you talked to today? What did you talk about? I haven’t talked to anyone yet today. I was thinking of replying to Aliyah’s comment on my Facebook post, but in the end I didn’t think a response was necessary.

When you apply your make-up, do you do it in a specific order? I don’t wear makeup.

Did you do anything sexual last night? No.

Do you think the last person you Facebook messaged is a virgin? She has three children, me included.

Did any of your friends lose their virginity before they were 16? If so, did you feel pressured to do the same? I don’t think my friends did, but I probably know other people who did. My baby asexual ass definitely didn’t feel the pressure. I was even scared shitless for my first kiss when it came time for it and I had kept putting it off that night.

Has someone of the opposite sex made you smile today? No.

Does it matter to you if your significant other smokes? With my previous relationship, it did in the beginning; eventually I just stopped caring.

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? I think it may have been Andrew.

Do you like where you are in life right now? No. I don’t know if a new year would make it better, or if it would help give me a healthier mindset. I just have to wait and see.

Do you hate it when there is a fly around you? Very much.

Is your mom overbearing? She can be.

Is there snow where you live? Never.

[mcrmadness]

Finally at my parents house I had all three: I was bored, remembered about my old art AND had motivation and time for start browsing my old art.

My mom has boxes full of our old art in her clothes closet and it’s like, full of stuff. I wonder where did I get my mild hoarding habits :DD So anyway, yesterday I just had this moment when I remembered about that box and made my way to the top of that closet (it’s very tiny and has small stairs and the boxes are at the back) and finally, again after years, I got to take a look at my old, old artwork :D

There’s everything from between the ages 7 and 13, I think. I have my “best” old arkwork here at home, I have put them in folders back when I still lived with my parents but that box is mostly drawings that I had no place to store so my mom brought in these boxes for each of us and we would then put all the old drawings there. There were lots of drawings I didn’t remember about anymore but also lots of drawings I did remember. I didn’t browse all of that yet - I’m gonna continue from that tomorrow - but I found lots and lots and lots of stuff that was me desperately trying to create something that would become comic book characters. I know for sure I created my first comic book characters when I was about 9 or 10 years old and I found papers ABOUT these characters and I thought I already had all that here. Since I have all of my “comic book history” saved. I have all the notebooks with those comics here, but didn’t realize I had so much more back at my parents’ house. (And there’s also lots and lots of dinosaur drawings. Most of them seems to have text at the back - I drew them for my dad with a little one-phrase story of what’s happening. It was usually always a dinosaur parent and their kid(s) wandering to somewhere to eat and drink. I might have grown up with the Land Before Time movies...)

Also, to quote my brother: “I see why you like The Sims games.” because I kept creating families. I even created some random cat-anthropomorphic family (I’d quess I was 8-9 years old based on my drawing style) and there were probably 10 papers of that family alone, of them dressed up in summer clothes and winter clothes. Them as a bit older. Then again bit older. And then much older. And I think eventually there were even a new generation in the last papers.

The most interesting one was probably the stuff I did at the last year of that art school I went to as a hobby once a week after school, I attended it for about 5-7 years. The reason for why I wanted to take a look at that box was because I remembered I had some of my old artwork and “sketchbooks” from the art school there and I was curious to know if I really learn a thing in there because the only things I remember from art school is that I had troubles staying in the class because of my concentration problems. I’d have rather been running around the hallways and investigating places with my cousin (who sometimes had to kinda hold me back by saying that we really can’t do that since we’re supposed to do arts here).

I just checked that diploma I got from the art school and it seems that I did in total 4 school years (240 hours) of that at first - this is dated to 2003 when I was 12. And I continued it the next year but it was a differen’t group, it was about drawing and painting, whereas these first 4 years were about the basics of art in general. I don’t remember if I finished with the 5th year or if I already started the 6th, I just remember I was in junior high and I was starting to lose my interest towards the art school. I think it was the 5th year because that year I got more into horses and started my new horse hobby (that eventually led into me becoming a professional equine groomer many years later).

BUT ANYWAY, I noticed I am very good at analyzing my art and handwriting and could use that to track the art to correct years as I didn’t often have any dates written on stuff, but just based on my comic style (as I just had to include these doodles _everywhere!), I was able to tell that “yes, I drew this one when I was 12, for sure!” And I was right. I estimated that this one acrylic painting I did was from when I was about 11 or 12 or so, and I found the “sketchbook”  and I actually had written quite a nice story there. Very cliché, but I really liked the writing style, especially for it being written by someone who was only 11-12 at the time. The sketchbook’s cover said IV which means it was tha last year of the basic education aka I indeed was 11-12 when I did all that.

Then my brother found some huge drawing that had drawings that looked like something I used to draw, I didn’t even remember about them anymore but I told him that those look exacty like what I did when I was 12 or 13. He also found some huge unfinished drawing that was done with charcoal and I didn’t recognize it, I had no memory of it so I said it’s probably something by my mom because I doubt I had such good drawing skills back then. Then I found a sketch book for that course and based on the comics again, I said it’s probably from when I was 12 or 13. And then I found the sketch of that CHARCOAL DRAWING. So it IS mine, after all? I don’t remember doing it at all, but it looks actually really good and I can’t believe it’s me who has drawn that. I also found a painting and the sketch for that painting from the sketchbook, and I couldn’t say if I used oil paints or acrylics on that. Somehow I have a feeling that it was oil paint but really the only thing I remember from that is how we built the frames on our own and stapled the fabric on it to really do the whole painting from scratch, like literally. The painting itself is not that good - I have never really been a painter. I’m more of a drawer - pencils, colored pencils and fineliners are my thing. I like details and small pictures, and paintings were always so big and huge things and hard to come up with anything because my details still were too small for painting. I like when I have full control over things I do and I could never achieve that with paint, I just never really understood how to work with that - watercolors, acrylic or oil - and I ended up actually hating that because I always only made a mess, and I kinda got an overdose from all that painting because I never really liked it but it felt like it was the only thing we ever did, or that we did that a lot more often than just regular drawing.

I also found some drawing I had done with pencils and I don’t know if it was for regular school or the art school, and it had no year or class number on it, it looked actually pretty good and I really liked how I had worked with the shadows. The human character looked like it didn’t belong into the picture, without him I’d have guessed it was from when I was maybe even 13 but with him I’d say I was rather 11. But it’s so weird because I had drawn there a tiny abandoned house, and the whole drawing was very abstract with some sort of weird cloud, and all that looked so much more “professional” than the human figure. So I have no idea when or where or what was that for, but I’d love to know what was the story behind that. It looked like some serious assignment.

Anyhow, I think I will take out that box tomorrow (or actually today as it’s 7am and I should be sleeping already) because my dad asked if we can browse the drawings together, and that could be lots of fun too. I really want to bring the box to home eventually. There’s so much interesting stuff and lots of memories in those drawings, and I think I might want to take photos of some of the most interesting ones.

[intheheartofthematter]

TFBM "Lioness" (Source: Flickr/ exodus-travels)

Photo by Gramps, Nov ‘68, 4th birthday, Knott’s Berry Farm... Knott’s first every visit for little cars, farm animals, horse rides.

TFBM 2016 “Happy Birthday, Dad! I love and miss you! (I sang Happy Birthday, too) First birthday since...” ❤️

TFBM 2013 (Three months after my grandpa died, his dad) “Today is my Dad's birthday. I called him and he's really sick again, and sounds so depressed. He says he's getting old and he's so tired of being in pain and stuck in a wheelchair and in a nursing home. He doesn't want me to visit him today, but said maybe tomorrow. As usual, he let me go quickly, said he needed his pain shot and then said, I love you, through tears, almost sobs and hung up. It's so hard and I don't know what else I can do for him. I just needed to say something, think out loud.”

TFBM 2014 (Bill Eppridge—LIFE Picture Collection) “In late 1968, not long after famously capturing Robert Kennedy's assassination, Bill Eppridge spent two healing months among wild horses in the fabled landscape of the American West.”

This share is not about the main lyrics...

Sent to me shortly before he died, ‘So you won’t forget me’ I never could. I will remember you throughout eternity! ❤️

A couple of my Grandpa’s late years ‘wild horses’ paintings  *card size prints in an album

Tonight! Tuesday Tuck In

One tradition passed down from my grandparents & dad💕 My baby at Knott’s riding horses there like me when little. And, just like me, didn’t want to get off when time was up.

Currently watching...

I’m hoping to find photos showing how different Knott’s was when I was little. I’d like to point out my favorite memories. The farm animals area had a mascot dog, Queenie, who was always a tail-wagging greeter. She was the first one I wanted to go see and hug and get face-licks from. Just like Lassie, they were brilliant in naming each same breed dog Queenie over the years, when one would pass. Later, Knott’s Scary Farm and Knott’s Merry Farm came into existence. T likes to go to the Halloween Haunt every year. I used to go all the time, too. Since my birthday is just two days after Halloween it’s usually celebrated in some Halloween combination. I remember when I went to Knott’s Scary Farm with my friends for my 16th birthday and I couldn’t wait to visit the farm. “Farm?” Yeah, it’s still here although not a main attraction now. I went home with a Red Satin bunny. I named her Pumpkin. 

An oil painting by my grandpa. A couple of detail shots... 

I couldn’t avoid the lighting on it in my room... 

I have a small oil painting of cats, given to me when I was a little girl, and three of his pen etchings; a fox, a rabbit, and my favorite of a tree. I also have two paintings of flowers I asked for. All used to be up on the walls in my homes. T has a few of them in my stored belongings at their place, as well as my piano. I hope they don’t get damaged at any point. There’s a sad story about a lot of my grandfather’s work, and who has them, who avoided me after the funeral. My family out there say they will try to figure out a way to get them back, but I know they won’t, or can’t. This woman is wealthy and thinks she’s entitled. Anyway, it’s not important. My family who have paintings of his offered them to me, to take them down off of their walls (of course I couldn’t take them)... this woman avoided me at all costs, with several excuses, until I had to leave. I don’t know why they’re so important to her! Anyway, this painting was one that my dad loved. He had it hanging in his homes for years. When he became paralyzed, he pleaded with the doctors to let him go home again. Once he pushed through physical therapy and proved he was strong enough to do it, they released him. But, sadly, his roommate came home one day to a tipped over wheelchair, blood (and more) all over the walls and floor, and my dad missing. Thankfully, a neighbor heard him cry out and called an ambulance. We had no idea which hospital he was taken to. By the time I found him, walking into the ER room sectionals, the nurse across the way told the others, his DR says he’s DNR. I looked over and saw that it was my dad... too many details to tell it all, but I said, “No he’s not! Resuscitate him right now!” Who are you? - His daughter. What doctor said that? He’s fired. And I had her call my dad’s Internal Medicine doctor, who agreed to become his primary doctor. Too many details, but even after all that happened, they didn’t insert the tube correctly, and I pointed that out, because they were saying it was useless that he was going to die. So, they rushed him to x-ray and found out I was right, and corrected it. Everything was a nightmare. There’s so much more. He had a raging staph infection. His skin was discolored throughout his entire body, looking leopard-like. They said he wouldn’t recover from it... just like when they wanted me to pull the plug and he fully recovered. It goes on and on... too much to think about, really. But, that’s when the doctor did the dirty work for me and told him that he had to go back to a nursing home. Anyway, this painting, and some of my dad’s other belongings (when I moved him out of that house with his roommate), was kept in the warehouse where I worked. When I finally got my piano and the other stuff out of there only a few years ago, I planned to bring this painting to my dad and hang it in his room at the home. He was looking forward to it, but then his health took a turn, and he died before I could bring it to him. So, it’s been sitting in my room since... painting side against the wall, to protect it, braced by other things. If I could get my own place, I would hang them all again. I think at this point, we’re stuck here until spring, losing more money to rent, medical, meds and all in the meantime. I just hope that nothing changes by spring and we can still make this happen before I won’t be able to contribute anything or do for myself in that way. We’ll see 🙏🏻

Oh! I almost forgot! Look what I came across yesterday: baby...

I noticed my photos program created this video this August. It’s mostly of Aiden (T’s Make-A-Wish kitty) one of the last times when he was real sick, and I’m also trying to connect on Skype with T for him in the video, lol... It helped him a lot. We finally managed to get through to each other. They Skyped daily a few times... he was anticipating it in the one shot. It was awful how he died. Just like my dad. Neither should have gone through what they did. I can’t let that happen to Marozi. Everyone needs to brace themselves soon. Neither my aunt or T are ready to have him put down, and I talk about it all the time, but both keep saying he’s better in between... For what? Half a day? Anyway, dreading it, too. But I can’t experience more like that. I just can’t. It’s too much for me. I’ve seen and been through too much already. The flashbacks of both of them are hard. And, not just of them... of the children I watched die in the hospital, of all of the medical stuff I saw with my kid, my dad, Alex, others and my beloved animals, too. I just can’t. But, here’s the video... strange... the music doesn’t fit either. And, although Aiden looks awful in these photos, it’s not so bad that I wince and cringe and feel that deep emotional pain. Just sharing to get it out, I guess: 

Currently watching, The Last Airbender, on our new 55″ TV. Not bad. Theater sound. Our old TV went out two days ago. Waiting to hear if T & Alexandria are coming over for AHS. I have the house to myself for a few hours. Relaxing now... Trying to get my symptoms to calm down. Hours late on meds. Still can’t go without them. I guess I need Prednisone this time. I don’t think life will ever be easy for me. Ever. Nothing new.  I have to accept that, and have, and will. (Wed. 1:45pm)

(Art by willow-s-linda) - 9/26/19 2:18-2:42pm

Oh! You want to know what’s happening...

Well, T & Alexandria came over last night, but didn’t stay as late as usual. In part because my brother had to drive them home and needed to get up early today because he went to Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights. It must be nice to receive disability and health insurance and spend most of your time watching TV or playing video games or constantly going to amusement parks... Bitter, who me? And, I wasn’t feeling well, with my head foggy, so I didn’t feel like talking about any plans or progress on their part and they didn’t bring it up either. But, today, feeling worse I wrote to T. No response yet, but classes and work, etc. I’ll just paste screenshots. I left one little part out that is a little too personal to disclose publicly. Even if no response really, just knowing someone cares and listens is comforting (and I might delete a few later, but leave one that gives the gist for reference remembrance). I have to fwd them to be able to add here. I need a few. OK, here we go:

Maybe I said too much and it will just be skimmed again. But, I text, sent a detailed email before, and talk in person when I see them when I can and it doesn’t seem like I’m getting through to them. T tends to go into denial about the seriousness of a lot of things. I think it’s a coping mechanism. Like with Aiden and Marozi. Anyway, I noticed a few typos, too. Whatever. And, I typed loops instead of hoops (make you go through), but it feels more like loops, so it’s fitting, lol. I’m propped up in the living room chair with my support cushions and pillows, since my brother’s not here to take over the chair, and just made myself Double Spice Chai in my Stitch mug, and hope to find a movie to distract myself with for the time being. Hope your day is going smoothly! :)

Currently watching. Nothing else on...  Previously known in person, but I’ll take it as a refresher on these types.

TFBM (Source: thinned-skin via -thefixisin)

New listing townhouse. I went ahead and sent the link, saying that if we could get a different lender and a little more offered (not much more) this would be ideal. Coupled with my subtle joke, the funny part was in the real estate wording, trying to make it sound like an automatic chair was a big selling point: “What a deal!’’ (I don’t think they thought it was funny.)

Hard to see, but the stair chair is to the right, top of stairs.

TFBM

Peppermint tea and lights off, darkening blinds closed, diffusing a mix of Frankincense, Eucalyptus and Rosemary for the first hour. Next, I’ll add Peppermint and Lavender. The baby wants in with me so bad. He keeps rattling the doorknob and meowing in such a sorrowful way. He leaves and then comes back. It’s mid-afternoon. He can cat nap on the cat tree.

Putin will try a few scare tactics, through his cronies, but will let it go, not really caring. He has other tactics to gain his end, but I don’t think he realizes just how outdated most are, lol. It’s kind of funny to watch. But, on the serious side, it’s scary. 

Frankincense, Eucalyptus, Rosemary, Peppermint and Lavender is an odd combination. I’m mostly smelling the Frankincense and Eucalyptus now. The others must have brought out those two to the forefront. Frankincense helps boost the immune system and reduces inflammation. Eucalyptus stimulates the immune system, relaxes sore muscles, helps with depression and fatigue, sinus and allergies, and mental exhaustion; per science.

Chewbacca (Source: aleriydraws)

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

And Saved

Just a gist :)

#FBF This goes with the Knott’s stuff (Camp Snoopy)

WAIT! Something’s happening behind the scenes, like... I hear whispers and see many faces and finger pointing... what is it? WHAT IS IT? This pinned tweet is a distraction, a place holder, something people will stay with mentally, his signal to the alt right? I can’t tell. It’s a signal but for what? To who? Something’s going on. I hope it’s not something devastating. Stay vigilant whoever you are. I need to tune in, focus to see. WTH Trump? (Fri 9/27 8:45 pm)

ahem

I’m using this song to help focus...

Yes, I can. You underestimate me. Give it to me. IT, explosion, something missing. OK, blocking with energy. 

I Am Lion

+ Still no response from T even after I wrote again today...  I gave them a percentage of the original lender offer to deposit into their savings account to show we had at least that much for a down payment. Since it’s taking so long and doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen I’ve repeatedly told them both I need that money back to either use to afford moving/living expenses on my own, or medical if I’m without insurance much longer (part of the reason to move out of state), or to redeposit into the account it came from before the end of the year, if we move but not until spring, so I don’t get penalized for taking out too much this year without investment or proof of other mentioned.

Lemongrass tx alone right now, might add a few others. 

Cliff Burton has a few things to say in my last personal post. I’ll be adding them soon… lending his energy. Thanks for reminding me Faith No More. And, get well, James… I’ll be with you soon in energy. too. You’ve been through enough. And you’ve remained one of the nicest guys I know. Remember. (Yeah, I sound crazy. Who cares. I know what I’m doing.) Here’s this for now, live footage, from “Ride The Lightning” =

For Whom the Bell Tolls (9/28 4:24)

(5:23) Are you listening to the bass too?

Orion

The Call of Ktulu

The Four Horsemen

And, what do you know... I got a response, finally. It looks like I possibly can get insurance through them. Will be checking out the link sent to me soon. Fingers crossed.

Lemongrass tx, now with Teatree, Lavender & Cedarwood too.

OK, I’ll admit it, I’m slow because I haven’t been feeling well. We got part of it figured out... I used a “green” light, “green” in the Metallica song... money is “green”... Trump is suddenly receiving a lot of money, so they say... a golf course is “green”. IT, Intelligence Test, [What is an IT raid? IDK] (IT, Institute of Technology; IT, In Training...) Thank God for energy in the meantime... still need more.

Ohhh!!! IT, Income Tax [raid]. “Green” is money, and sudden donations, tax evasion… Trump! OK, we’ve gotten a little farther… oh, this is good. OK, golf resorts are “green”, too. Whispering on the “green”. Those who can do are you listening? Do the math… you’ve got this! There’s more. I’ll keep on, too.

I keep getting Moscow. Not Russia. Not Putin. Moscow. I don’t understand.

Even though T gave me info, and said they could give me the money back, nothing more was said. I told T to hang onto it for now and explained no rush, but by mid December at latest to redeposit if we don’t move before spring or if I need it sooner for medical expenses. Asked what they’re thinking at this point and an important question to be able to get the insurance too. I think they’re upset with me. But, come on... I’ve been more than fair and patient until now, when I have pressing matters. It’s sad and sucks. Everything.

[renepmartineztravels-blog]

A NIGHT TO TRANSGENDER - PART II (Scare-BNB) I woke up early this morning to get my 'Dear John' letter ready to write to Kaska so I could make my escape. I woke up the two of them and said they could take the bed as I saw they were shivering on the floor with the window open. I hurried my packing, got clean, and even placed the note in a somewhat hidden spot behind the TV. I could hear Kaska rustling about and she came out of the room 15 minutes later and said, "We were off our tits last night weren't we?. Did you sleep ok?" I was nervous and must had that guilty look on my face when I responded, "Nah, it was great". Her eyes immediately started staring in the direction of the TV, "What's this?", she asked. Christ! She picks up the letter and begins reading it: " Dear Kaska, thank you for this amazing time, I feel like I have been an inconveinence and so I think it's best that I go and explore the city on my own. I thank you for everythng you've done and wish you and your art career the best. Signed, Rene". She looks up at me and says, "Were you going to pull a runner on me?". For a second, I thought this is where she snaps and mystery exposes itself; fattened for the kill, I was ruining her plan to sell me into that Polish sex ring. "Oh no...." I nervously responded, " I just didn't want to take your bed, and doesn't seem like you really have the space...". "Nonsense", she replied, "You're staying", we were going to make art like we said." Just then, Jezebel tears through the room, "Has anyone seen my bloody skirt and bra, I have to get to my electronics class!" I was defeated and told Kaska that I would stay another night but I'm going to go out for a bit and then meet her at the studio. I left thinking that I just ruined the whole thing and this may cause a new awkward energy. Who knew that a girl that had been drinking since the morning before would have the wits to detect a 5x7 notecard from across the room. Her senses were impeccable. I met Kaska at the studio around 4pm where she had already been working on her newest piece. It was nice to know this place was actually real and that it wasn't another hang out for the dead end boys or a sex hostel. My mood was apprenhensive and a bit annoyed at this point. I went under the rolled top door into the studio thinking I would just stay for a short time. It was cold and debris was everywhere, it felt like a squat, and I shouted to see exactly where she was. She yelled from up the stairs and that is where I found her painting and smoking. There was loud dancehall music coming from one of the studio spaces below, but for the most part the place was empty. She said, "Do you want to meet my favorite person?" We went downstairs towards the dancehall music and past the huge clouds of marijuana smoke which were hiding a thin Scottish man in his 50's working on editing photographs. This was Stephen, and he was an artist and a very nice man. We had a great talk about art and Los Angeles and New York. We even discussed Francis Bacon's studio which Kaska had never seen. He quoted Picasso and mused about how dumb it is for artists to be fearful of modern tools like Photoshop to help them make their pieces. I agreed and this talk settled me; I was feeling inspired now. We went back upstairs and Kaska says, "So you want to paint?" "Yes", I replied. Originally Kaska and I were going to colaborate on a portrait but I was more inspired by Jezebel - she was such a character. Kaska gave me an old canvas that had a dumb bird that Liam painted on it and I began working. We painted in the cold air of the room with only one dim light and some ambient glow that came in from the overscast outside. We painted for about two hours and I finished my piece. Kaska was nice enough to let me use all of her paints and materials to do this piece. This was good. I had paint on me and I was smelling linseed oil....and I was happy. We decided to take a cab back to her place and on the ride we started to talk. Sober, Kaska and I had more in common and were able to discuss things like showing our work and the inspirations of artists. It felt more like a give and take between us and the madness of yesterday had washed away. On our way home she asked if I wanted to see the Necropolis (cemetary) and I said "Sure". We strolled through the cemetary as the clouds and sun sunk into the dark. It was raining in the distance and the gravestones looked amazing. I had not been inspired to paint anything with Kaska until we were in this cemetary. I started getting ideas and was upset that I hadn't bring my gear. It started to rain, and so we left for food. She asked if I Jezebel could join us and I told her i can't really do another night of debauchery. She said, "Don't worry, I feel sick, and I know Jezebel has Jury Duty on Monday." Jury Duty?! She is a busy one isn't she? Jezebel joins us and despite having a her third hair of the dog, she was quite tame. We sat and talked about the differences of living in Glasgow vs London; Jezebel says, "I love London, but there are far too many immigrants" Kaska goes, "You're a tranny and you have issues with accepting immigrants?" At this point, I was glad that I stayed. There were both present and I felt connected to them. I even said, "Wow guys, this has been great to meet the two of you, how long have you know each other?". Laughing, Jezebel says, " I only met this b**tch a week ago. I started going out to pubs after my girlfriend commited suicide." Kaska and I were shocked. Me, because I thought they were old friends, and Kaska because she thought he liked dudes, and they'd been spooning all night. Let alone, the fact that he girlfriend recently died and he seemed as normal as anyone you'd meet. Kaska goes,"I'm sorry, wow you seem not affected, are you ok?" Jezebel responded with telling us it had been hard and started to pull up a picture of his girlfriend, the first one of her face, and then the second one of the gaping slice to her wrist. Kaska jumped back and said, "Why the hell do you have that?" "Because she sent it to me before they found her." Kaska and I couldn't speak. Right there, In that moment, I saw a relfective side of Jezebel; a deep sadness was on her face as she stared at the picture. I could tell she drank to cover the pain she'd endured in life and that the picture she carried around, while morbid, was somehow comforting to her and the last intimate connection with her ex of 3 years. I think we were all exhausted at this point. We went back to Kaska's and they decided to watch some TV while Jezebel talked about how she advertises for Johns and how it's a lot of straight men who request her. Kaska put on Taggart for me, a famous Scottish detective show like our Columbo. They both told me how popular it was and i was happy that it was unintentionnaly hilarious. The acting and the people were so bad in it. The plot line was about a bunch of murders happening in the gay community. The show runners obviously took these episodes as a chance to comment on homosexuality. Everyone in the show seemed to come out of the closet, the policemen, the old businessman and his lover, the kid stealing boy porn in the shop, and the erotic way the dead bodies were arranged. We kept making jokes that there was no actual plot and they just wanted to show gay things. They both started falling asleep, and so they went to bed, leaving me to find out who the gay killer was - I was entranced. The killer was revealed to be the one American they put into the show. Of course, that is perfect, the American dude hates the gays because he fears he may be gay. Was this all planned? Kaska said if I don't watch out, I may turn gay. Then the friends, Jezebel, and this? Even thoughGlasgow didn't turn me gay, it did surprise me. We woke up that next morning and did some filming back at the Necropolis. I hugged both Kaska and Jezebel goodbye and told Jezebel she could keep the painting I did of her - she was elated. As I walked away, I thought how amazing this whole experience had been. Will Kaska become a big artist, will Jezebel convict whomever she has on her jury, and will I ever seen Tranny Nun Bangers? No one knows, that's what makes life worth living. Next stop, Edinburgh.

[cherubintraining]

All of the aesthetic asks please

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?

I last sang to myself…hm…about ten minutes ago? Before my roommate came back from her class! All Time Low by Jon Bellion is stuck in my head today!

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

Hm…this is a very good question…probably if we will ever live on other planets. Space is v neat.

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Living!! Something I’ve been doing for almost 19 years!! Because sometimes being alive is Rough™️️ and that’s okay! I try my best and that’s all a person can do!

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

There’s two that came right to mind! The first is the most recent, when my aunt let me play with her makeup and hair and I low-key transformed her into the next Stevie Nicks. Good TImes™️️! The other one that came right to mind is when I got to see my favorite person for the first time in over a year when she came home for a weekend. I miss her bunches.

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

I mean probably? I’d probably not continue my college education and try to travel different places. Work on my bucket list. But I also potentially wouldn’t change anything.

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

Pet a giraffe (done), own a hedgehog, and own a bed and breakfast (in no particular order)

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.

She’s got shoulder-length brown hair and big, beautiful sea-glass colored eyes. Full-lips and a contagious smile. Her entire persona just makes you want to sit and listen to what she has to say for hours on end. Her voice calms me down. Her sense of humor can be a little dark sometimes but that’s okay, because it makes me laugh. (I guess I can be pretty dark, too) She has been through a lot, but she has never stopped fighting and I truly admire that about her. I love her a lot. She’s like an angel to me.

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

I feel I had a relatively normal childhood!

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

Pssshhh yesterday when I got in a car accident, I cried in front of my roommate, the other driver who was involved, and two police officers.

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.

I’d probably pick my cousin John. He’s a man of quiet solitude and loves the outdoors. His mind wanders a lot so I feel it’d be a good fit. ‘Specially since my eyes are too bad to see that far away :P

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

Maybe? If we were stuck together for a long period of time, sure.

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

My friend Nikki. She and I were wandering around the city and talking and being idiots. She’s a long-time childhood friend.

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

I’d engrave “nothing is set in stone” on my gravestone with my own two hands so that way everyone who sees it can roll their eyes in exasperation at me.

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?

I lowkey think I had a thing for people for brown eyes - every person I’ve dated has had brown eyes. (Except one, but we don’t talk about that.) They’re beautiful and deep, and there’s so much more…to them than…what…meets…the…eye…I hate myself.

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

“Be messy and complicated and afraid and show up anyways.” This is the story of my life. i am messy. I am complicated. I live in constant anxiety and I always show up anyways.

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

Things that Happened™️️

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

Move to another country. Buy a little house and a dog and lots of flowers. Create the aesthetic that I will probably never be able to afford.

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

With some things I am too forgiving. With others I hold too many grudges. I don’t like being this way really because if I forgive I never forget and since I never forget, I feel like I never truly forgive. winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.

(I’m going to do an estimate on words.)

Dear twelve year old me,You are going to make so many mistakes. So, so many mistakes. Right now is the beginning of where we as a person went wrong. We treat ourselves like crap, and I wish I could warn you of what is going to happen, but I can’t. I, for one am not a time traveler, and B) you become a better person because of it all. I hope. I don’t know. I’m still working on it. Read a lot of books. Make a lot of art. Ignore boys in general cuz boy oh boy do you have another thing coming. Sincerely, Me. The Older Screw-up™️️

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

Neither. I am Punk Pastel™️️

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

LOVE THEM. I have 6 piercings so far, though my final number is aimed to be around 12. I have one tattoo, but I plan on becoming a walking canvas. It’s my body, and I want to treat it like the masterpiece it is.

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

I either wear a shit ton of makeup or nothing at all. There is no in between with me. But I really LOVE makeup.

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

I grew up on Pink Floyd, so I guess I have them to blame for my constant Angst™️️.

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

LMAO I can’t do speeches in front of a class, no way in hell would I be able to say something to the entire world. It’d probably just be a *choking noise*

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

Trans-Siberian Orchestra - Christmas-y!Hannah Montana/the Jonas Brothers - honestly don’t remember too much of that concertScott Stapp - Really happy and chill because my dad was with me and very happy. Warped Tour - Very emo. Just…very, very emo. Black Veil Brides - I had a headache the next day but it was a lot of fun! Nothingbutthieves - I had no idea who this band was but they ended up being really good. I felt very relaxed and old…there were a lot of younger kids there.X-Fest- I was really only there to see Wheezer and Panic! At the Disco but it was sooooo much fun. Lots of dancing and GORGEOUS sunsets.Florence and the Machine - Like the gypsy princess I wish I could be. Taylor Swift (all of her tours) - I am always going to love Taylor Swift. Her music just makes me very happy and I’m not ashamed to say that I love her. Very dance. Much smile. Many off-key singing from my aunt and I.

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

My Person, Angel. And it could say anything in the world, I’d still be happy because this week is already extremely Rough™️️

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

My desk at home is very cute and artsy but the one here at school is kinda really messy.

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?

At home I usually take a bath, wash my face, brush my teeth, put on my fleetwood Mac record and my fairy lights and go on tumblr. (I know, it sounds fake. But it’s true.)

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

Technically there’s two things. I like girls and I have a tattoo.

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

It would be pink ALL over and it’d be longer than it is now so I can wear space buns and put hair glitter in it.

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

Sarah, Isabella, Megan, Morgan, and Jules. I don’t know what we would do or where we would go but I think it’d be v fun.

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

I wish school was over (I’m stressed) I wish for a hedgehog (they’re so cute)And I wish all my friends were happy (I’m lame)

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

Oh I’ve decided for halloween next year I’ll be Van gogh. I’m going to wear my starry night dress and have an ear necklace and carry around sunflowers.

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

Never been high. I got drunk once and made out with a boy.

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

Kill anything or anyone

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

Song: Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.

I’m gonna pass on this one.

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?I am a girl and I had short hair once (its still pretty short) but I loved it

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

My friend Sam. Vanilla Chai Tea Latte

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

Sleep.

This was very long but very fun! Thank you anon!!!

[dragonscanbeplantstoo]

Oil & Sky: echoes from the trash

Something You Like

Maeva rubs at an itch on her cheek, probably leaving charcoal behind, and returns to the sketch in her lap. She is pressing hard, too hard, wearing millimeters off her charcoal as she works on a bit of shading. Some people say the eyes are the most difficult thing to draw realistically, but Maeva disagrees. Elbows are in fact, the most difficult body part to capture. There is something about the way light falls on an elbow, the crease versus the vein versus the muscle, which is deeply improbable.  She scribbles out the curve she has been working on and tries another, cross-hatching this time in short, dark strokes that turn her knuckles white. She presses so hard that her vine of charcoal snaps, scattering dark dust all over the page.

“Maeva?”

She looks up from her work, and finds her photography professor sticking his head out the office door. She raises her eyebrow at him.

“Sorry about the wait,” he says, “come in.”

With a sigh, she closes her sketchbook and steps into the cramped room. Technical-looking paperbacks line the walls, their shiny coverings peeling away, and the spare spaces on the shelves are occupied by cameras and lenses and further gadgetry Maeva can’t identify. Everything is black though, and mildly hideous.  

She takes a seat in the chair adjacent to his desk while he shuffles through a few sheets of paper. He pushes his glasses up his nose, and she knows what’s coming.

“Maeva, I wanted to talk to you about your final project. Did you have any plans for it yet?”

“Yes.” Maeva says. As in, she is planning to wait until the last possible minute to photograph a few macro shots of sand. She can use them later for a painting.  

“Hm.” He nods, paging through his papers again. “I ask because I have some concerns about what you’ll be turning in. Your midterm compositions were a bit…lackluster.”

If one of her oil teachers had used the word ‘lackluster’ in front of her, Maeva very well might have had a quiet aneurysm. But that isn’t the case here. Professor Cairn’s opinion of her is immaterial, because she has no intention of ever picking up a camera again.

“What would you have me do differently?” She asks.

“There’s nothing technically wrong with these. But as an expressionist, I expect more creativity from you. These are boring and formulaic. You can be more dynamic.”

“I don’t think I can.” She says. “I don’t particularly enjoy photography.”

His eyebrows hike up, not because he doesn’t believe a student infamous for her rigidity could hate photography, but because she admitted it to his face.  

He smiles. “Alright, let’s unpack that. Maybe we can find a way to spark your interest. What is wrong with photography? It’s a very versatile and accessible art form.”

“It isn’t art.” Maeva says. “It’s regurgitation.”

“Regurgi…tation?” He frowns at the gallery wall opposite his bookshelves.

Maeva looks at it too. He has a mix of everything up there, a display of all the things one can do if they learn to click the correct buttons between camera and editing application. Some are simply representations, a crisp shot of a landscape or an ice cream cone. Maybe the colors are brightened, or the image composited into something surreal, the seams of the images invisible. Again, good editing. It’s all very skillful. It’s all very boring.  

“I don’t think photography captures the world in a way that makes it seem prettier. We’re just replicating what the eye sees in a given moment.”

Dr. Cairn nods. “Tell me what’s wrong with that? What we see will always go away, so what’s wrong with capturing the color of a memory, or the shape of something we found pretty to begin with?”

“Nothing at all.”

“How about you do that then? Don’t think of it as making something new, think of it as capturing a thought or vision.”

Maeva sighs. Other people can do that, fine. But why should she need a photograph of something pretty, when she can simply draw it exactly as she saw it? She saw a pretty flower in the market last week, a chrysanthemum, and now she has a perfect white-charcoal rendition of it, so perfect she might as well have pressed it between the pages of her sketchbook.

“I can just draw it.” She says

“But that won’t get you through my class.”

“Apparently not.” She says. “Again, what do you want me to do?”

He sighs, “I want you to present me with something that is unique, Maeva. I want you to tell me something with your piece.”

“I don’t say things in art. Art is not for saying things.”

“Well, you’re going to have to learn, if you want to graduate. You are required to fulfill a three-hundred level photography requirement, and you have not done so yet.”

Maeva touches her temple, just lightly, with her middle finger. Of course she knows that, she’s heard it every term for the last two years—Ack courses, plaster, installation mediums—do more, or don’t pass. Do more, or the pile of acceptance letters to London and Dresden and Milan mean nothing. An acceptance to Paris would mean nothing. She returns her hand to her lap.

“I’ve completed every assignment to your guidelines.”

“You should know that ‘completion’ is not the standard at this school. Particularly for someone as obviously talented as you are.” Dr. Cairn laces his big-knuckled fingers together. “So, you have exactly six weeks to come up with something more, something that showcases your eye for color and light, something with movement and passion, or I will not pass you.”

“Okay.” Maeva glances out the window. “I still don’t know what to shoot to make that happen.”

Clearly frustrated, Dr. Cairn touches his own forehead, then hums. “I don’t know, Maeva, just…find something you like.”

Maeva is still chewing on that as she blinks against the sunlight outside. Her midterm compositions are full of things she likes. She just hadn’t liked taking photographs of them. It feels too easy, flat in the simplicity of adjusting the lens and pressing a button. Of editing her mistakes away. No struggle over the dimensionality of shading, or what color she needs to mix up for the lighting. No room to play with the image and make it more than what it is. She wishes she could ignore it. She wishes she could skip her next class and draw more elbows, but she’s missed theater too many times.

She can hear a piano before she even enters the music building, clanging out through an open window on the first floor. A headache threatens her temples, but the music has stopped by the time she gets inside, and the only sound in the dimly lit hallway is the shuffle and murmur of open classrooms. As she stashes her bag in one of the lemon-scented lockers, Maeva hears something new amidst the shuffle, something that makes her feel like someone has stuck a branding iron behind her ears.

“Music, Corin, music!”

“Oh, shit, sorry, sorry.”

Maeva turns her head before she can remind herself not to, and she is staring right at him. Corin isn’t looking back; he’s behind a music stand, sighing off into a corner of the room. He’s so full of good color. His skin is precisely umber, the same warm, orange-toned brown she has in her bag, and the sun is hitting him from the side, throwing bronze onto the high points of his face. It falls in dense bars across the sharp edges—cheekbones, brow bones, the corner of his jaw—and creates softer diffusions around his nose and mouth. He blinks, and she notices again that his eyes are a very different color than they had been that night. Blue, yes, but they are so much brighter now, a true cerulean without a hint of ashiness.

His professor barks a command, and there is the subtlest change in the light around his throat, breathing in without breathing out. Maeva should look away. She has the peculiar sense that if she doesn’t look away right now, she won’t be able to.

“Once, a lady was here; a lady sat in this garden, and she thought of love…”

It’s a beautiful voice, like all of the voices here. Big and round and full of interesting vibrations. He has a delicate way of moving to the music, and an indelicate look of bliss on his face as he sings the long lines of notes together. Subtle flexions of his smile muscles, a suddenly saucer-like shape to his eyes. He’s gesturing and singing to this classmate, that classmate, the professor, playing with them and with his lovely, flexible voice. Maeva doesn’t understand how the act of making sounds can so immediately increase his saturation, his vibrancy. She doesn’t like looking at it. She feels his cell phone number like a lead weight in her pocket. As if he knows, he looks up from his music, and catches her stare.  

“Her garden still looks the same, but,” Corin’s brows rise to his curls, creating the tiniest disturbance in his voice, “it’s a different year.”

Maeva’s shock rises up to meet his. She’s wide-eyed as long as he is, less than a second, before he breaks into a full-blown smile, a stage light aimed right at her face.

“Soon, the evening comes down,” he sings through it without missing a beat, “and paths where she used to wander whiten in the moonlight…”

Maeva glares at him, clutching her sketchbook over her chest. His smile only looks like that because his teeth are so contrasted against his skin. His eyes only look like pieces of a Monet sky because they are shining out from his black lashes. Stupid, pretty, color coordinated boy.

“Her garden still looks the same but,” Corin tilts his head at her, “yesterday is not today…”

The class applauds, startling Maeva out of her glare. She steps back, and Corin laughs. He laughs with fine lines under his eyes and a bubbly, metallic sound. Maeva can finally walk away. She breezes down the hallway, shaking her head as she goes. She keeps seeing the big smile, the glowing cheeks, and the eyes, the eyes, the eyes. No one would ever guess that Corin Olivier had been killing himself in the rain eight weeks ago.

And that, Maeva decides, is utterly terrifying.

[crayonghana37-blog]

Miami Photo Diary

I'm in Miami, Girl...

So unless you've been offline for the past 2 weeks (and if you were, good on you, internet breaks are good for the soul), you may have heard about my little trip to Miami with Space NK and IGK. I know right? D.R.E.A.M.Y!!!!

So last Monday myself, Kate, Lily and CC flew out to meet the teams and celebrate the launch of IGK on Space NK. 

For those who aren't familar with the two brands, Space NK is my FAVOURITE beauty retailer and they scour the globe to bring you the best beauty products of their class. I can safely say the addition of IGK works perfectly in to that statement as they really are one of the best hair care brands I've ever tried. The brand itself is a little edgy (which I loveee) with innovative and really effective products. They also seem to work amazingly on all hair types as everyone I was in Miami with had a different hair type but we were still able to use every single product. Until now they had only been available within the US, and the nature of haircare products made them impossible to ship, so their arrival in the UK has been so exciting for myself and so many other girls who are huge fans of the brand. 

*Sponsored by Space NK

The Hotel.

On arriving to Miami (after a 15 minute drive and be playing Will Smith - Miami on repeat much to everyones eye rolls) we checked in to the Mondrian South Beach Hotel. It's totally gorgeous and a sea view room gives you the most stunning bay view. People live in that hotel and I honestly could too! (FYI there's also a modelling agency in house so there's cute boys galore - and a lot of cute dogs too actually!) The gym also faces the bay, and at this time of year I'd recommend getting on the treadmill at around 7am for the most incredible pink sunset. If I was a better blogger I would have been up shooting some outfits in front of it, but clearly my priorities are currently elsewhere!

Fun things.

On our second day we headed to the Arts District for a quick coffee before our blow dries at the IGK salon. We popped in to a little place which I think is called OTL and they do really yummy food as well as a super tasty American style Lemonade (plus good coffees too of course). The cafe is really cute and I would highly recommend popping in if you're ever in the area.

Later on we had a picnic over on the grass at Winwood Walls. This area is AMAZING. Honestly such an awesome part of Miami. Imagine tonnes of walls with the most incredible art on them, and spray paint all over the side walks too! 

IGK Salon.

Our blow dries at the IGK salon were pretty out of this world - my hair actually looked great for days after - and the whole in salon experience was just a dream. It had such a cool aesthetic - think industrial yet feminine. Every little detail was perfect and I could easily have spent another four hours in there soaking up the atmosphere. 

The Products.

After spending so much time with IGK learning about their products this week, I've quickly solidified my absolute favourite and must have products. It's worth noting that they do everything really well, whether you need hydration or texture, they are there for you hun!

Now one of my absolute faves is mentioned below (keep on reading, don't give up on me just yet) but aside from that the Down & Out Dirty Spray is everything I've been dreaming on in a can. It adds grit and texture without being at all drying, immediately giving your fresh clean hair a second - third day feel depending on how much you use. Then you have the Intern Flexible Hairspray which is the most un-hairspray like hairspray I've ever used. No crisp hair, no grit, no heavy alcohol scent that makes you choke. It actually smells beautiful and holds your hair in place all whilst keeping it feeling like your natural hair.

Then we have the Rich Kid Coconut Oil Air-Dry Styler which I use to hydrate the ends of my hair and also through the lengths when air drying. It smells incredible and helps to keep my natural waves frizz free.

Shop IGK @ Space NK.

The New Launch I'm Loving.

Whilst we were out in Miami the IGK team launched two new dry shampoos in addition to their beloved Jet Lag Dry Shampoo. The new additions are Direct Flight which is a medium cleanse dry shampoo, which is still invisible, texturising and volumising. Followed by First Class, which is a deep cleanse - perfect for those "Mahhhh ghad I should have washed my hair yesterday" days.

Shop IGK Dry Shampoo.

Source: https://www.hello-october.com/2018/02/miami-photo-diary.html

[missingpartofajigsawpuzzle-blog]

How could you be so wasted?

It never really occurred to her what would happen if she doesn’t take the first step. Isolation was not an ennobling experience when you desperately wish to have people around you. She collected all that was scattered on the floor. Empty Oil pastels, Unused and used paint brushes, the drawing sheets container which hid the pictorial depictions of her mood. Suise was certain no one would team up with her to talk ideas for the task. She chose not to open the WhatsApp messages which she has been ignoring for many days now when someone patted her back gently but forceful enough for the moody Suise to frighten. 

“I was hoping if you could team up with me. We’ve worked on similar projects before. Workstation portraying has been my thing too”

He said with a grin which would have let any fourteen year girl turn awe and let him in. But Susie wasn’t any spring chicken. 

“How long do you think we can work on the same lines? With the same thoughts, without having to go independent anytime”

He was taken aback, strangled when those lips uttered something which he felt was remarkably different and strange. Something which no other girl in the art class would have asked or said.  

“I’m not refusing. But I was just wondering how long would you last. Art is an emotion for me. I don’t just paint because I come to the class”

He could see and feel what Susie wanted to say. He took the decision whether he wanted to team up with her or not after this. But before he just said bye once for all, he felt that a small talk won’t do any harm. 

“ What exactly do you mean by ‘how long’? You don’t start by predefining the time bounds. What has to happen will eventually do”

She could have turned her head away and walked without uttering a word after hearing what he said, but she adjusted her bag which was feeling to heavy for her and then said,

“ You see, when we start painting together we start sharing ideas. We share feelings, thoughts, fears and everything that is associated in keeping us sad or happy. And if this is just for a limited period of time, I don’t think it can happen. I have hundreds of unopened WhatsApp messages kept unread because the thought of having a conversation and developing an attachment that would surely not last for long really scares me now. “

He started to understand the depth of her words now. She surely isn’t the silent, self centered girl that he thought her to be. He spoke after a pause while he perfectly had to recite in his mind what he was going to speak.

“That is how it works my friend. You can only be important to someone for sometime. You can’t expect us to keep painting together for the whole life. There will come a time when we run short of ideas working together and we slowly start finding solace in someone else’s company. It is the nature’s law”

She felt a tinge of sorrow. All her old memories and experiences started racing into her mind, now beaming more clearly like they just happened yesterday.

“But it’s harsh” she finally said.

“To be so close to someone for so many days only to realize and see it end in an abrupt way”

“Well, there isn’t much that you can do” he added and realizing that he has blurted far too much than he was supposed to. He was looking for a partner to paint just fifteen minutes ago and now he is talking about people, words and bonds. “Good luck with whatever you are doing. Remember, you are an amazing person and don’t ever let anyone come deep into your paintings. You are better off when you do it alone. Take none for granted because everyone is bound to hurt you at the end”

She wiped her tears, forcing a smile. Waited till her voice box was fully ready to speak and said “Can we be partners for the task?” 

[caveartfair]

The Most Remarkable Art-Historical Discoveries of 2017

Art history is, by definition, primarily a thing of the past—but each year, some small portion of it is rewritten by those in the present. In 2017, we gained new insight on the early years of Leonardo da Vinci and the final ones of Andy Warhol; amateur archaeologists were rewarded with major finds; and several masterpieces were discovered, simply hiding in plain sight. From newly mapped Venezuelan petroglyphs to a long-lost Magritte, these are 10 of the most notable art-historical discoveries of the year.

A slew of ancient tombs and artifacts have been uncovered this year in Egypt, in a concentrated effort to promote tourism.

Photo by Ibrahim Ramadan/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images.

Earlier this month, the country’s ministry of state for antiquities announced the discovery of two roughly 3,500-year-old tombs in the necropolis of Draa Abou Naga in Thebes, near the southern city of Luxor. Although the deceased occupants have yet to be identified, researchers have dated the structure to the 18th dynasty (1550–1292 B.C.) and have found a number of artifacts, including funerary furniture, painted wooden masks, and approximately 450 statues. Perhaps the most impressive find is a remarkably well-preserved wall painting. “It looks like it was painted yesterday,” Egyptologist Zahi Hawass told the Independent. “In my opinion, this could be the best painted wall discovered in Draa Abou Naga in the last 100 years.” Another 3,500-year-old tomb in the same necropolis—this one constructed for a royal goldsmith named Amenemhat—was revealed in September. And in March, pieces of a 26-foot statue of a pharaoh (likely King Psammetich I, who ruled between 664 and 610 B.C.) were pulled from a muddy ditch in a working-class neighborhood in Cairo.

Andy Warhol’s untimely death was the result of long-running health problems, not a routine surgery gone wrong.

AW in a Bullet Proof Vest, NYC 1981, 2015. Robert Levin Maison Gerard

When the famed Pop artist died in 1987 at age 58, newspapers were shocked that a simple operation like a gallbladder removal could have spurred the heart attack that killed him. And, in the three decades since, that’s remained the prevailing view. But new research, presented in February by medical historian and retired surgeon Dr. John Ryan, indicates that Warhol had actually suffered gallbladder problems for almost 15 years. (Ryan has been researching the artist’s death since his retirement four years ago, encouraged by his brother-in-law, the prominent art historian Hal Foster.) Warhol’s condition was so severe that, during the 1987 surgery, the doctor found Warhol’s gallbladder full of gangrene—so full, he said, that the organ fell apart during removal. The artist’s health was worsened by an addiction to speed, severe malnourishment and dehydration, and the long-term effects of a 1968 gunshot wound at the hands of Valerie Solanas. That final gallbladder operation, it seems, was ultimately too stressful for his fragile body; Warhol’s heart gave up hours after he appeared to be recovering from the surgery.

A team of amateur archaeologists dug up one of the most significant Roman mosaics ever discovered in Britain.

The discovery was made in a field outside of Boxford, in southern England, by a group of local volunteers supervised by professional archaeologists. Although the project began in 2011, it wasn’t until August of this year—during the final two weeks of the scheduled dig—that organizers realized they’d found something extraordinary. As it turned out, they’d uncovered a remarkably well-preserved mosaic, built as part of a Roman villa that dates to roughly 380 A.D. Not only is it a rare find for the country—experts have labeled it the most exciting of its kind unearthed in 50 years—the subject and style of the artwork is highly unusual for the area. The work illustrates the story of Bellerophon, a Greek mythological hero tasked with killing the Chimera. Anthony Beeson, a board member of the Association for Roman Archaeology, told the New York Times that he couldn’t think “of another Roman mosaic in this country that is as creative as this one.”

A Vatican fresco, once attributed to Raphael’s followers, contains two figures painted by the Renaissance master himself—both of which have now been identified.

The allegory of Justice in the Room of Constantine. Photo via Wikimedia Commons.

The discovery was made in the Room of Constantine, a reception room in the papal apartments decorated with episodes from the life of the first Christian emperor. This space was one of four grand halls that Raphael had been commissioned to paint by Pope Julius II in the early years of the 16th century. Although the artist sketched out a design for the room, his unexpected death in 1520 at age 37 left his workshop to complete the project. Contemporary sources did note that Raphael had painted two figures in the hall shortly before he died, but until a recent restoration project, it had been impossible to identify which ones. In June of this year, the Vatican revealed that two painted women—allegorical representations of friendship and justice—had the mark of the master’s hand. “By analyzing the painting, we realized that it is certainly by the great master Raphael,” restorer Fabio Piacentini said. “He painted in oil on the wall, which is a really special technique.”

A major work by Auguste Rodin was found gathering dust in a New Jersey borough hall.

Auguste Rodin with his sculpture of Napoleon Bonaparte. Courtesy of the Hartley Dodge Foundation/Musée Rodin.

The marble bust of Napoléon Bonaparte (c. 1908) had been sitting in the Madison, New Jersey, town hall committee room for 75 years. It wasn’t until a private foundation hired an archivist—a 22-year-old graduate student in art history—that the work’s creator was properly identified as the famed Rodin. Further research revealed that the sculpture had been purchased by Geraldine Rockefeller Dodge, an enthusiastic art collector and the daughter of William D. Rockefeller, in 1934. Also the owner of a 300-acre estate in Madison, Dodge often selected artworks from her personal collection to decorate the borough hall. This Rodin was evidently one of them, but the transfer process was clearly informal; no paperwork or documentation accompanied the bust, and after Dodge’s death, its provenance was forgotten—until now. The rediscovered sculpture has been valued on the range of $4–12 million. Due to security concerns, it has been loaned to the Philadelphia Museum of Art.  

A Leonardo da Vinci scholar may have solved a long-standing mystery concerning the artist’s biography.

It was a big year for Leonardo. Not only did a rediscovered painting by the Renaissance polymath sell for a record-shattering $450 million at auction, but experts may also have determined the identity of the artist’s mother. For centuries, historians have only had a potential first name—Caterina—to go on. But a new book, based on previously overlooked financial documents from Vinci and Florence, pinpoints a poor orphan named Caterina di Meo Lippi. Seduced by a 25-year-old lawyer when she was just 15, she probably received a small dowry from his family and was soon married off to another man: Antonio di Piero Buti, a local farmer. New research in the book also contests the site of Leonardo’s birth, long believed to be the Casa Natale in Anchiano.

A portrait by Peter Paul Rubens, missing for almost 400 years, was discovered hanging in a historic Glasgow house.

Peter Paul Rubens, Portrait of George Villiers, First Duke of Buckingham, ca. 1625. Photo via Wikimedia Commons.

Dr. Bendor Grosvenor, host of the BBC4 television series Britain’s Lost Masterpieces, spotted the painting while vacationing with his family in Scotland. “This picture just seemed to stand out,” he told Artsy in October. “I could see from the bits that were visible and not overpainted that some of it looked very Rubensian.” Although the portrait had previously been dismissed as “merely a copy,” after two months of cleaning and conservation work, it was determined to be an original work by the 17th-century Flemish painter. (It is, however, a study for a larger painting, not a final version of the portrait.) The subject, George Villiers, was the first Duke of Buckingham—and, some have surmised, the male lover of Scottish king James VI and I. Glasgow Museums, which maintains the art collection of the Pollok House (where the portrait was first discovered), has placed the rediscovered work on display in its main gallery.

A miniscule carving recovered from a Bronze Age tomb revealed detailed handiwork centuries ahead of its time.

Although the 1.4-inch-long etched gemstone was found two years ago in southwest Greece, it was initially set aside for later study; researchers assumed it was nothing more than a simple bead. But after a careful, almost year-long cleaning, a tiny work of art etched onto the surface of the agate was discovered: a warrior stabbing an enemy in the neck, with another slain man at his feet. The full details are only visible through a microscope or heavy-duty camera lens, although no tools for magnification have been ever been found from the corresponding time period. Researchers have wondered if, perhaps, the ancient artist was nearsighted. A professor from the University of Cincinnati who aided in the discovery noted that it would be another millenia before other artworks displaying that level of detail begin to appear in ancient Greece.

Eighty-five years after it went missing, the last piece of a lost René Magritte painting was found in Belgium.

René Magritte, The Enchanted Pose, 1927. © Succession René Magritte. Courtesy of SABAM © ULiège.

In November, the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium announced that researchers had discovered the fourth and final section of Magritte’s work The Enchanted Pose (1927). X-ray imaging revealed that the Surrealist artist had painted over it to create a later work, God is not a Saint (1935–36), today owned by the Magritte Museum in Brussels. Historians suspect that a penny-pinching Magritte cut the original work into four parts and painted over each one in an effort to reuse canvas and save money. This discovery completes an art-historical jigsaw puzzle that researchers began to piece together in 2013, when the first section of the lost painting was discovered during conservation work at New York’s Museum of Modern Art. The second piece was found in the collection of Moderna Museet in Stockholm, and the third in the collection of Norfolk Museums Service in eastern England.

Thanks to drone technology, researchers have mapped massive, 2,000-year-old petroglyphs in Venezuela for the first time.

Although archeologists have known about the carvings for years, their size and their location—a group of islands within the hazardous Atures Rapids—have historically made them difficult to photograph in their entirety. These images are part of a larger project examining how pre-Columbian cultures dealt with each other, with evidence suggesting that there were indigenous trading networks for thousands of years before European colonization. Many of these newly-mapped petroglyphs represent rituals, including what may be a “rite of renewal” ceremony, as well as humans and animals—such as a roughly 100-foot-long snake.

from Artsy News