#interior house colors website

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1920s factory has been converted to residential apartments. The units are clad in vinyl siding facades of different colors to make them look like houses inside the building.

This reminds me of the basement of an old renovated mall- they removed the facades that made the stores look like an outdoor street. I like it.

Found website they're nice inside! https://www.hardenplaza.com/interior-photos

[mysimsloveaffair]

While Dub is in Oasis Springs with Dwight, Maia starts chatting with the interior designer about the new house. They review some of Maia and Dub’s favorite colors and discuss a theme that involves bringing the outside in with nature-inspired colors and an array of house plants. The more they chat, the more excited Maia gets. The designer gathers everything they discuss and promises to send some 3d renderings and design plans by the end of the day.

Maia picks Tambara up from her playmat on the floor.

Maia: *to Tambara* You’ll have your own bedroom soon, my little Tadpole.

Tami snuggles against her mother, which makes Maia’s face light up with love for her daughter. Maia sits on the couch, holding Tami in her arms with buds of joy blooming within her thoughts.

Maia’s Thoughts: Is this what happiness feels like? I know I deserve this, and won’t let my mind fool me into thinking I don’t. I deserve to have my daughter in my arms and Dub by my side. I know this feeling won’t last forever, but it’s here now, and I will relish it. I’m happy, content, and in love, and I deserve to be!!

(Full post available to read on my website)

(Note: My WordPress website has been having database connection errors lately. If you visit the website and can’t access it because of an error, try again later and it should be back up. Thanks for your patience while I work on getting this issue resolved.)

[lleeckina]

Happy Painting Company offers testimonials the history of their jobs, and other business information about itself on its site. Happy Home Painting has received 5-star reviews from customers. feedback due to their professional approach and attention to detail for cleaning up edges at the point where colors intersect. Their exterior painters Scottsdale team also work efficiently so projects are finished in only one day. Painting your exterior can improve both curbside appeal and property value for your house in Scottsdale. When online visitors make use of this website online, they can get information on painting company scottsdale.

[sehtoast]

In the quiet moments before bed, Homelander and Ben share their hopes and dreams for the future, finding solace in the knowledge that they'll face whatever comes together.

Either a small fic or a HC format if this is something you are interested to write about.🙏

I just wanna see more cute moments with one of my fav couples. 🥹

asdfghjkl thank you for this ❤️😭 on this episode of domestic benlander bliss...

"Well, we can’t just move to the cabin.  What would you swing from?”

These were the moments that make everything so special.  The soft times, the after, when the world was quiet and it was just them.  No obligations, no wailing sirens (yet), and no assistants pestering them about their next daily task.

“I could attach a web to you.” Ben says.  “Have you fly around a bit.  Course you’d be doing all the work, but…” 

The bug lays on his side, palm supporting his head as he stares down at Homelander.  A faint glow from the TV illuminates them both, long forgotten as they’d wandered into their favorite bedtime subject.

The future.

“Nope.  No free rides.  Well, except on my–”  Homelander raises his brows suggestively.  

“Oh my god,”  Ben groans through a laugh.  “Later.”

A brief pause.

“Some nice houses in Queens, and I could still swing around.” He says.  “Christ, never thought I’d be able to afford something like that, let alone entertain the thought, y’know?”

“Oh please, it’s just a house.” Homelander says as though it really wasn’t that big of a deal.  “How much could it be, like two hundred thousand?”

“Uh… times four and then some.”  Ben replies, reaching for his phone.  He taps away, pulling up a real estate website and snuggles in to make it easier for both to view the screen.  “Man, check these out.”

Homelander scoffs at the most plain looking house he’s ever seen.  “Boring.” He says, swiping his finger along the screen to scroll through.  “Ugly– no way– not happening.  This one doesn’t even have a fence!”

“Oh the horror,” Ben teases.  “Life’s more than a white picket fence, y’know.  Besides, I prefer a nice stained wood approach myself.” 

“Of course you do.”  Homelander scoffs.  “Eeew, this one has a pink toilet!  God, look at the tile color–”

“There’s a reason some of these don’t show the interior.  Did you see the green kitchen cabinets earlier?”

“Yuck,” John groans.  “I don’t know about Queens, babe.  They seem like psychopaths.”

“Blame the seventies.”  Ben says, scrolling to the next one. “Oh my god is that fucking–”

“Leopard print wallpaper! What the fuck is wrong with people...” John chortles.  “Oh, hey, this one’s nice.”

“What would we do with four thousand square feet?”  Ben asks, head tilted back to catch whatever expression his love must be wearing.  “I mean, we’d have Ryan running around too.  Could make him a dedicated Lego room– ooh, and a little studio for his home movies.”

“Now you’re talkin’.”  John says. “Wait, wait.  Yellow walls– no way, babe.”

“We could always just paint– holy shit, is that stained glass in the foyer?”  Ben’s brows raise.  "But yeah... We could paint it. We could make it anything we want, y'know?"

Homelander’s arm wraps tighter around Ben’s shoulder, drawing him closer.  One day they’ll settle somewhere that’s wholly their own.  No hustle and bustle of the tower.  No PA’s to terrorize them. No more circus acts.

Just them, Ryan, and a slice of peace that was all theirs.

One day.

For now, though, they can dream.

[archinform]

The Riviera Theater, Uptown, Chicago

4746 N Racine Ave, Chicago, IL 60640

Opened Oct. 2, 1918

C.W. Rapp and George Rapp, architects

Balaban & Katz, original owners

Seating Capacity: 2,500

Jam Productions, current owners

Current use: Concert venue

Completed in 1917 by architects George and C.W. Rapp (Rapp & Rapp), it was built as a movie theater for the Balaban & Katz chain. Transformed into a private nightclub in 1986, the Riviera Theatre is now one of Chicago’s premier concert and special events venues.

Jam Productions website https://www.jamusa.com/venues/riviera-theatre

Broadway and Lawrence, Uptown

Two theaters: the Riviera and the Uptown

Photo on display in the Riviera lobby, showing original chandelier, now gone, and the box office, which remains

The Riviera Theatre was the largest and most ornate of the movie theatres of the Uptown neighborhood until the opening of the Uptown Theatre almost a decade later. Opened October 2, 1918 with Lina Cavalieri in “A Woman of Impulse”. Built at a cost of well over half a million dollars (delayed by almost two years due to World War I), this Rapp & Rapp-designed house located on N. Racine Avenue between Broadway and W. Lawrence Avenue, originally seated 2,600 and its building also featured eight storefronts and over 30 apartments. Initially the Riviera Theatre was to have been operated by the Jones, Linick & Schaefer chain, which operated several Loop movie houses in the 1910’s and 1920’s such as the Orpheum Theatre, the Rialto Theatre, and the McVickers Theatre. However, the Riviera Theatre ended up becoming the second major theatre of the Balaban & Katz circuit, which at the time also included the Central Park Theatre, now regarded as Chicago’s first true ‘movie palace’. Featuring movies accompanied by the orchestra of S. Leopold Kohl, the Riviera Theatre also featured “high class” musical acts on stage. It was initially equipped with a Barton theatre organ which was later replaced by a Wurlitzer organ. The theatre mainly catered to the upper-middle class residents of the Uptown area, especially women. The Riviera Theatre continued to remain one of the neighborhood’s most popular movie houses for decades, even once the almost 4,500-seat Uptown Theatre opened just down the street. By 1977 it was in its final days as a full-time movie theatre as occasional live concerts were beginning to be staged. It became first a nightclub in 1986, and a few years later, after the nightclub closed, one of Chicago’s most popular concert venues, as it remains today. It still has a feel of faded elegance to it, and in 2000 the concert hall was named one of the historically important structures making up the Uptown Square National Historic District.

www.cinematreasures.org

In a scene still from the American drama film A Woman of Impulse (1918), Leonora, the opera singer known as "La Vecci" (played by Lina Cavalieri) sits in her backstage dressing room receiving visitors.

The Riviera Theater was open to the public on the weekend of October 14-15, as part of the Open House Chicago weekend sponsored by the Chicago Architecture Foundation. It was my first time inside the theater.

Jam Productions thoughtfully provided a booklet with a history of the Riviera and reproductions of archival photos. A couple of the images are scanned below.

Theater lobby

Such stage sets were often inserted for the performance of "prologues" or musical numbers before the movie screen would be lowered for the film showing.

As usual, interior photography is difficult without a tripod, and though some of these images are blurry, they give a good impression of what remains a stunning interior.

Sometimes thought of as a "companion" to the much larger Uptown theater just across Lawrence on Broadway, the Riviera was built first, and inspired the slightly later Chicago Theater in the Loop.

The purple wall color is not original, but there are no current plans to change it to the muted tones of the original scheme. A couple of original stencil designs have been uncovered in the lobbies, which will eventually be reproduced. The murals in the auditorium are faded and covered by grime and nicotine, but being backed by heavy paper rather than canvas, their restoration will prove tricky, and there is no current timeline for this process.

I was a bit mystified by the lack of theater seats on the main floor, which resembles a large concrete-floored nightclub rather than a theater. Never having been to a concert in this venue, I imagined what a standing-room crowd would experience here. the balcony level, however, has recently-installed theater seats, and seems a comfortable place from which to enjoy music.

The lobby features one of the original chandeliers from the Granada Theater in Rogers Park; somewhere there is a companion piece, which Jam hopes to acquire eventually for the outer lobby. The huge light fixture isn't exactly elegant; seen from the upper lobby, its design seems rather awkward. That, in my opinion, is one of the weaknesses of early movie palaces, which strove for an overall "wow" effect rather than architectural refinement or historical accuracy of detail.

Here are my photographs from my visit to the theater on October 14:

The Granada chandelier in the Riviera lobby

That's Chrissie Hynde

One of the depictions of the four seasons in the auditorium. The painting isn't nearly this clear or colorful; it's been Photoshopped. It appears muddy as in the next photo.

The six side light fixtures were later additions, and were simply hung from the center of the oval paintings.

[bellahomes1050]

House accessories stores near me

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 Why Choose Bella Homes Interiors?

At Bella Homes Interiors, we pride ourselves on offering a diverse collection of home decor items that cater to all design preferences. From modern contemporary pieces to classic traditional designs, our store is filled with options to enhance any home. Here’s what you can find at our store:

1. Artificial Plants: Bring the beauty of nature indoors without the hassle of maintenance. Our selection of artificial plants includes various sizes and styles to fit any room. Perfect for adding a touch of greenery to your space without worrying about watering.

2. Artificial Bonsai: Add a sophisticated touch to your decor with our range of artificial bonsai trees. These miniature masterpieces are crafted to mimic the intricate beauty of real bonsai trees, offering elegance and tranquility to your home.

3. Brass Sculptures: Elevate your decor with our stunning brass sculptures. These handcrafted pieces add a touch of luxury and artistic flair to any room. Each sculpture is designed to capture attention and spark conversation.

4. Dhokra Art: Discover the timeless beauty of Dhokra art, an ancient craft known for its intricate patterns and unique designs. Our collection includes various Dhokra artifacts that bring traditional artistry into modern interiors.

 A Blend of Contemporary, Traditional, and Eclectic Designs

No matter what style you prefer, Bella Homes Interiors has it all:

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Feel free to adjust the details as needed for your website.

For More Info-https://bellahomesinteriors.com/house-accessories-store-in-pune/house-accessories-store-near-me/

[interiordecorationideas]

How to Choose the Right Interior Designer in Ranchi for Your Home

Ranchi, the capital city of Jharkhand, is a blend of traditional charm and modern living. As more people in Ranchi aspire to create beautiful and functional homes, the demand for skilled interior designers has grown significantly.

Choosing the right interior designer can make all the difference in transforming your house into your dream home.

Here's a comprehensive guide to help you select the perfect interior designer in Ranchi for your home.

10 Reasons to Hire an Interior Designer in Ranchi

1. Define Your Style and Needs

Before starting your search, it’s essential to have a clear idea of your style preferences and requirements. Are you leaning towards a contemporary design, a traditional look, or a fusion of both? Do you have specific functional needs for your home? Having a well-defined vision will help you communicate effectively with potential designers and ensure they align with your expectations.

Tips:

Browse design magazines, websites, or platforms like Pinterest for inspiration.

Make a list of your must-haves, such as storage solutions, color schemes, or specific materials.

2. Research Local Designers

Ranchi boasts a growing community of talented interior designers who cater to a range of styles and budgets. Start by compiling a list of potential designers through online searches, social media platforms, and recommendations from friends or family. Look for designers with a strong portfolio and positive client reviews.

Where to Look:

Google searches for “interior designers in Ranchi.”

Social media platforms like Instagram and Facebook.

Local design exhibitions or events.

Recommendations from your network.

3. Evaluate Portfolios and Experience

Once you have a list of potential designers, delve into their portfolios. This will give you a glimpse of their style, creativity, and versatility. Check if they have experience handling projects similar to yours, whether it’s a small apartment, a luxury villa, or a renovation project.

Questions to Ask:

Do they have experience with homes in Ranchi’s climate and culture?

Are their designs functional and aesthetically pleasing?

Have they worked with projects similar in size and scope to yours?

4. Set a Budget

Interior design services can range from affordable to high-end, depending on the designer’s expertise and the complexity of the project. Establishing a budget upfront will help you narrow down your options and avoid unexpected expenses.

Budgeting Tips:

Discuss fees and payment structures early on.

Ask for a detailed estimate, including design, materials, and labor costs.

Be transparent about your budget constraints.

5. Meet and Communicate

Schedule consultations with shortlisted designers to understand their approach, personality, and working style. Effective communication is key to a successful partnership. A good designer should be open to your ideas, provide constructive feedback, and adapt their plans to meet your needs.

Key Points to Discuss:

Your vision and preferences.

Their design process and timeline.

Potential challenges and solutions.

6. Check References and Reviews

Speak with previous clients to gain insights into the designer’s reliability, professionalism, and ability to meet deadlines. Online reviews and testimonials can also provide valuable information about their reputation.

Questions for References:

Were you satisfied with the final design?

Did the designer stay within budget and timeline?

How was their problem-solving ability?

7. Verify Credentials and Licenses

While creativity is crucial, professional qualifications and credentials also matter. Ensure the designer you choose is licensed and follows ethical practices. Membership in professional organizations like the Indian Institute of Interior Designers (IIID) can be a plus.

8. Consider Compatibility

Your interior designer will be a part of your home journey for weeks or even months. It’s important to choose someone you feel comfortable working with and who understands your lifestyle and personality.

Traits to Look For:

Good listener.

Adaptability and flexibility.

Strong problem-solving skills.

9. Focus on Sustainability

As sustainability becomes increasingly important, consider designers who incorporate eco-friendly practices and materials. Many designers in Ranchi now offer solutions that are both stylish and environmentally responsible.

Sustainable Options:

Use of local materials to reduce carbon footprint.

Energy-efficient lighting and appliances.

Designs that maximize natural light and ventilation.

10. Finalize a Contract

Before starting the project, ensure all terms are documented in a detailed contract. This should include the scope of work, timeline, payment schedule, and any other agreed-upon terms. A clear contract helps prevent misunderstandings and ensures a smooth collaboration.

Conclusion:

Choosing the right interior designer in Ranchi is a crucial step in turning your house into a home. By following these tips, you can find a professional who shares your vision, respects your budget, and delivers a design that perfectly reflects your personality and lifestyle. Take your time, do thorough research, and trust your instincts to make the best choice. Your dream home awaits!

[thenordroom]

have u seen carice van houten's house? it's very barbiecore https://www.atelierndinterior.com/pages/amstelveen-carice-van-houten

Yes, I have!! I've always wanted to ask the interior design studio if I may share it on the website, as I've already published another one of their homes, but I keep forgetting.

It's an amazing, colorful house and very different from her previous home.

[longlistshort]

The images above are of Terence Gower’s El Muro Rojo (Barragán), 2005, from the group exhibition Color Effects at Galerie Lelong in NYC last year.

From the artist’s website about the work-

A large black and white photograph of the roof patio of the Casa Barragán is mounted on an enormous red wall. The photograph is a copy of Armando Salas Portugal’s famous 1953 photograph (this time commissioned from architectural photographer Jorge del Olmo), and shows a corner of Luis Barragán’s roof patio with its famous coloured walls reduced to grey tones. The work separates a tonal and planar understanding of the architecture from the “emotional” encounter with colour that Barragán aspired to.

From his statement about his practice-

I work on a number of bodies of work at once, each developed over several years. In the past decade my work has focused on a critical re-reading of the modern movement and its utopian bent. A desire to reexamine the notion of progress—a term corrupted by the excesses of technological modernism—has fueled my research on the post-war period and has led to a search for models from the past that might still be relevant today.

Below is the Armando Salas Portugal color photo referenced by the Gower work.

Armando Salas Portugal, “Barragán House”, Mexico City, 1948. View of the roof terrace in the late 1960s. Image via Barragan Foundation

Armando Salas Portugal is known for his photographs of the Mexican countryside and the architecture of the city. He captured the work of several famous architects, in addition to Luis Barragán’s projects.

From Wikipedia about the influence of modernism on Barragán and his concept of “emotional architecture“-

Barragán visited Le Corbusier and became influenced by European modernism. The buildings he produced in the years after his return to Mexico show the typical clean lines of the Modernist movement. Nonetheless, according to Andrés Casillas (who worked with Barragán), he eventually became entirely convinced that the house should not be “a machine for living.” Opposed to functionalism, Barragán strove for an “emotional architecture” claiming that “any work of architecture which does not express serenity is a mistake.” Barragán used raw materials such as stone or wood. He combined them with an original and dramatic use of light, both natural and artificial; his preference for hidden light sources gives his interiors a particularly subtle and lyrical atmosphere.

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Ichnaea (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- The Hidden Goddess by the people of Olympius

Agapitós by Anytos

Age- 36 (immortal)

Location- Phrygia, Olympius

Personality- She's an introverted, quick, & clever goddess with an exceptional attention to detail. She's also very particular and analytical. She's married & is a new first time mom.

She has the standard abilities of a goddess except shapeshifting. As the goddess of tracking her other powers/abilities include invisibility (by way of camoflauge- which also includes becoming intangible, inaudible, & inodorous), psychometry, having supersonic eyesight, enhanced smell, being able to make objects & other beings invisible, and having limited prophectic visions.

Members of her immediate family includes her husband Anytos (Titan god of anonymity & secrets), her newborn baby daughter Phyge (goddess of escape), and her stepdaughter Despoina (goddess of the arcadian mysteries, frost, winter, & shadows).

Ichnaea lives with her husband & daughter at their lakehouse estate in the state of Phrygia. They have their own private lake, a sailboat, and a stone pavilion outside. Inside the house the color scheme is mint green, gray, cream, dusty rose, & forest green. The interior design is very rustic with stone flooring, many potted woodland plants, brushed brass & wood furniture pieces, leather and burlap furniture, a carved stone coffee table, framed black & white photographs on the walls, various mounted animal antlers, as well as decorative pottery pieces. There's also two guest bedrooms. In her bedroom, there's a co-sleeper for the baby.

A piece of jewelry Ichnaea always wears is a gold locket, which has a photo of her husband and baby.

She has quite the furry brood! There's two bernese mountain dogs named Bear and Duchess as well as three german shepherds named Bruno, Bolt, & Heidi.

Ichnaea starts out her mornings with a three mile jog and a swim in the lake. She'll sometimes have a session of tai chi.

A typical breakfast for her is a small bowl of cereal- her favorites being the Golly Grains vanilla spice & the Earthly Harvest raisin crunch with almondmilk. She also likes banana nut oatmeal (topped with peanut butter & dark chocolate chips), lightly buttered chia seed muffins, toasted whole wheat kalamata olive bagels spread with tzatziki cream cheese, and her husband's shakshuka.

Honeydew, kiwis, apples, bananas, figs, & apricots are her favorite fruits.

Ichnaea has always kept a low profile in the pantheon and public. She doesn't mind her status as a minor deity. Ichnaea just does her best to serve all beings in the realm, pay respect to the crown, and be there for those she cares about.

At home she prefers walking barefoot, but when outside, her preferred footwear are sandals & flats.

A go-to drink is her husband's homemade banana-olive juice. She also likes mineral water, limeade, mint tea, ginger ale, vanilla almondmilk, homemade honeydew-kale smoothies, lychee juice, cucumber & mint flavored botanical beer, orange juice, classic martinis, sparkling green sangrias, white wine, and peartinis. Her usuals from The Roasted Bean includes a large scorching hot dark roast coffee (with plenty of sugar) & an olympian sized iced green tea. She hasn't drunk coffee or alcohol since her pregnancy.

She's not on any social media websites, including the most popular one- Fatestagram.

Her favorite color is light green.

She keeps her straight shoulder length black hair in a low ponytail or tight bun. Ichnaea swears by the olive oil Glory's Crown hair products- the shampoo, conditioner, & hair gloss.

Ichnaea views her relationship with her husband as "The greatest love story ever whispered." Their love grew over time, starting up from when they met on the deserted Mt. Othrys at a small get together with other deities celebrating the anniversary of the end of the Titanomachy. She saved all the letters & love poems Anytos sent her during their correspondence while he was living in Colchis at the time. Ichnaea says that his serious and intense eyes remind her of embered coals. Ichnaea & Anytos were married in a small intimate ceremony in the woodlands. There were only twenty guests in attendance. She carried a bouquet of wildflowers & lilies and wore a pastel light green strapless silk ruffle dress. Her best friend Ioke (goddess of pursuit, tumult, & battle rout) was her maid of honor.

Her favorite frozen treat is pistachio ice cream. She also likes lime sorbet.

Ichnaea's relationship with her stepdaughter hasn't been so seemless. Despoina isn't outwardly disrespectful, but always maintains a certain emotional distance. Ichnaea considers it a treat if her stepdaughter utters more than five words to her. Recently, to get on Despoina's good side, Ichnaea gifted her the latest hardcover mystery novel (with splayed edges) written by Phoebe (Titaness of prophecy, the moon, radiant intellect, & mystery). The Silver Titaness signed the copy herself.

Her favorite desserts are pistachio baklava, key lime pie, and hummingbird cake.

The spinach & mandarin orange salad topped with dried cranberries, pomegranate seeds, toasted almonds, and sweet sesame seed dressing is her favorite thing to get at The Bread Box.

Ichnaea has been enjoying her journey into motherhood. She takes joy in all the little things- the sleepless nighs, the constant feedings and diaper changes, & counting the tiny breaths the baby inhales and exhales. Leto (Titaness of demurity & motherhood) did the maternity photoshoot as well as the birth announcement photoshoot. Ichnaea decided on a home birth with Gaia (goddess of the earth) being her midwife. Ioke was also there for support. After 18 hours of labor, Ichnaea pushed out the most perfect being she ever seen- a six pound baby girl with a thick mop of black hair, a snub nose, cherub cheeks, hazel brown eyes, and dark olive skin. She made Ioke Phyge's godmother, or noná.

She's exclusively breastfeeding & is currently on maternity leave from her job. Ichnaea made note of Phyge's milestones at an appointment with Paean (goddess of physicians) at nine and a half weeks old.

Before becoming pregnant with her daughter, Ichnaea worked in the country's defensive department in the SAR branch (search and rescue) alongside Soteria (goddess of safety). She also worked in Olympius' military department, becoming one of the few decorated & celebrated female snipers in the realm's history.

The alarming number of missing Athenians in Crete has been a real headscratcher for her.

In the pantheon she's also good friends with Lelantos (Lantos) (Titan god of air, the unseen, & hunting), Apheleia (goddess of simplicity), Nárkosi (goddess of sedation), Lethe (Titaness of forgetfulness, oblivion, & concealment), Damia (goddess of naturalness), Elais (goddess of oil), Dyssebeia (goddess of ungodliness & impiety), Limos (goddess of starvation & famine), Androktasia (Andi) (goddess of battlefield slaughter), Ptocheia (goddess of beggary), and Proioxis (goddess of attack, onrush, & battlefield pursuit). She's also friends with Lantos' wife Periboia.

Ichnaea was the official mentor to Britomartis (goddess of mountains, hunting, & fishing nets).

She's also fond of Lantos' daughter Aura (goddess of the breeze).

Ichnaea has traveled throughout the country (mainly New Olympus) to see her friends.

Her and Ioke has been in attendance to the Olympian Grand Prix, the most popular & exclusive motor racing event in the entire realm!

She even visited Nárkosi at the commune she lives in with Pan (god of the wild, satyrs, shepherds, & rustic music).

For Christmas, Ioke gifted Ichnaea with the Diamond Ave. jeweled camera clutch, as a nod to her best friend's growing interest in photography.

Lately, she's been getting into pressure point martial arts.

She's been developing a bit more of a sweet tooth, enjoying the green grape flavored saltwater taffy from Confection Carousel.

Ichnaea loves listening to alternative, grunge, rock, and classical music. A new favorite has been the music of Moros (god of doom).

Her all time favorite meal is her husband's lentil stew with saffron rice & roasted artichokes.

In her free time Ichnaea enjoys archery, basketball, hiking, boxing, football (soccer), reading, mountain climbing, sewing, going to the spa, knitting, mixed martial arts, cooking, and spending time with family.

"To walk in nature is to witness a thousand miracles."

[thevvictoria]

Exclusive tips for decorating your house with modern chesterfield furniture

Do you like to décor your house with elegance and style? Then modern chesterfield click here furniture can be a best option for you.

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[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 114: May 2018

Martin knew it was going to be a rough day when he woke up to find Tim playing with a prism.

Not that it had been a particularly good week to begin with, or even a particularly good month. The dispassionate aloofness that protected Martin in his dreams had started seriously eroding, and while that was probably a good thing—he’d been really worried about what it meant that he could just watch people, especially people he cared about like Gerry and Naomi, go through the worst days of their lives like it was a television program—it did mean his sleep was a good deal more restless, and he always worried he was going to wake Jon, or hurt him by accident. The progression through the dreams was getting far less orderly, too, and he struggled to figure out what the pattern was, if there was a pattern. If it wasn’t just meant to disorientate him, keep him off balance, and make him just as afraid as the people begging him to help not knowing he was just as helpless as they were.

Besides his petty little personal problems…things were getting bad for everyone else, too. Maybe worse. Melanie and Sasha had turned up Monday morning with the cats and a lingering smell of smoke; they were all fine, and the house had mostly survived, but the interior was a mess and they were going to have to stay in the Archives until her landlord was finished the renovations. Melanie was already betting against him changing the leasehold to say that she couldn’t have pets anymore. Tim had left after work that day and come back with Gerry and Umberto; Martin had assumed he just felt guilty being the only one who got to leave until Gerry and Daisy came up from the tunnels, where they’d been looking for vermin of some kind to satisfy both their hungers, looking shaken and pissed respectively. Gerry had had one of his attacks when Daisy nearly pounced on a particularly juicy-looking spider (her words) and he’d seen the black marks of potential death bloom on her face and chest, and they still weren’t sure what that was all about. That night he’d had a nasty Web-related flashback that they’d spent all of Wednesday searching to see if there was a statement in the Archives that matched.

And every time any of them so much as set a toe outside the Archives, it seemed, there were cobwebs everywhere.

Martin hadn’t heard Gerry’s flashback the night before, since he and Jon had taken to sleeping in the Archivist’s office—Jon refused to let him sleep alone, no matter how bad the nightmares got—but seeing Tim sitting at his desk, shining a tiny pocket torch through a triangular crystal that he was twisting this way and that and watching the colors play across the desk, gave Martin a pretty good idea of what it might have been about. He hadn’t asked, though, not yet anyway. He’d just gone into the break room to make them both some tea.

As he went through the familiar motions, made slightly off by the necessity of avoiding the small brown spider that had apparently taken it into its head to redecorate the shelves for Halloween five months early, he tried to remember the conversation they’d had half a lifetime ago, literally. He’d been on the cusp of fifteen, the lines on his wrists only just beginning to fade into relative invisibility and the rebellion and desire to push back against his mother and Aunt Mary’s treatment and plans for him only just beginning to form, fresh off his first broken heart and ripe for what would turn out to be the best year in chorus he’d ever had. Melanie had just found her niche and started planting the seeds that would eventually lead to Ghost Hunt UK, which she’d once confided she hoped would satisfy the itch of curiosity that fueled the Eye without actually binding her closer to it. And Gerry had been on the verge of adulthood, primed to up stakes and flee to the continent the instant Melanie and Martin were well and truly out of it. They’d all been so…hopeful. It hadn’t been a serious conversation because it wasn’t going to matter much longer, even if they hadn’t started consciously thinking that way yet.

Except, obviously, none of them had made it out. Here he was on the cusp of thirty, and they’d all ended up falling deeper into it—only Melanie was at a point where she even could possibly still walk away, and she was so damn stubborn that she wouldn’t—and Martin vaguely remembered making a comment about how once people who didn’t work for the Institute started calling you Archivist, you were probably in it too deep to be saved. It was darkly funny now, because Martin, who’d never considered himself important for anything to bother with, had somehow become at least the second most powerful servant of the Ceaseless Watcher in existence. And he wasn’t entirely certain he wasn’t more powerful than Elias, although he wasn’t particularly keen to try it.

“Won’t have to, either, as long as the bastard stays put,” he muttered at the spider that was peeking out from between the sugar canister and the powdered milk Hannah and Gail were always arguing over. He didn’t know if it was the same one as before or a new one. “And don’t go getting any ideas. Get out of here while it’s still your choice.”

The spider didn’t move. Martin weighed up the merits of pulling out a bit of the Archivist power versus the possibility that this was just an ordinary spider, then reached for a paper towel to either humanely remove it from the break room or squish it without getting guts all over his fingers. When he looked back up, though, it was gone.

The kettle clicked off with a sound similar enough to the tape recorders that Martin found himself instinctively looking around for where it might be. Then he shook himself back to sense, checked the mugs to ensure they were unoccupied, and busied himself with the tea.

Tim was still playing with the prism, in combination with a crystal ashtray he’d found somewhere. He started in surprise when Martin slid the tea under his nose and looked up. “Martin? What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same. It’s two in the morning.” Martin sat down in the chair that had once been his and was now Jon’s. “Nightmares ran their course, and there’s not usually any point in sleeping further once they’re done, I guess. Came out and saw you messing with this.” He nodded at the prism. “Let me guess, Gerry had a flashback to the time we tried to improve on Smirke’s system?”

“Got it in one.” Tim clicked off the torch and set it aside. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said��well, what Gerry said you said—about shining light through a prism. I know there’s not a way to put them back together, but…I mean, if you move the torch, all the colors move. There’s no way to move just one. And, I mean, there are only so many colors you can break light into.” He ran his finger over the point of the prism. “You can’t make new colors.”

“You can if you shine light through another prism and combine them. Or look harder at the overlap between the colors.” Martin took a sip of his tea. “I know what you’re thinking, Tim, but…well, the Flesh and the Hunt were just emerging, or at least just emerging in humans, when Smirke started making his classifications. They can splinter off from existing Fears. There’s…Dekker probably isn’t wrong about the Extinction.”

“Do you think Basira is?”

Martin hesitated. “I think Basira has her reasons for trusting Peter Lukas. I just don’t know what they are.”

Tim glanced over his shoulder towards where the trapdoor was, and where he, Gerry, and Daisy tended to bunk down. “Did you tell her what we found out? About how to quit?”

“I told her,” Martin said quietly. “All she said was that if we were planning to go that route, to make sure we submitted a letter of resignation so she could process the severance package. I can’t tell if that was a joke or not. She’s hard to read sometimes.”

What had been obvious, though, was that she was definitely not going to be quitting. Assuming that was even how she had to quit, now that she wasn’t in the Archives, or if she even could; even if the Eye hadn’t been too big on seeing the future, it still wouldn’t give Martin that information. She was absolutely committed to her plan, whatever it was. He still wasn’t sure if she was actually on Peter Lukas’ side or if she was playing some kind of long con on him too, but whatever she was up to, she wouldn’t let anything deviate her from that path.

“Daisy was telling us the other day that she ran into her, too,” Tim said. “Didn’t ask her about quitting, so she said, but…she’s worried she might have lost her way. Basira’s not the kind to give away what she’s planning necessarily, but there were…little things they used to do to reassure one another or communicate when they worked on the force, and she didn’t get any of those. So either she was really paranoid about being overheard, or she’s doing exactly what she says she is—helping Peter Lukas.”

“We don’t…actually know that he’s wrong,” Martin said cautiously. “Or that he’s doing something evil.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t, but Basira might. Or she might believe she’s tempering whatever it is he’s doing. But if she won’t listen—or share—there’s only so much we can do.” Martin sighed. “And if she won’t tell Daisy, she definitely won’t tell the rest of us.”

“She might tell you. She likes you.”

“Liked, past tense. I’m pretty sure she still blames me for what happened to Daisy. And since she wouldn’t have gone over to work with him if Daisy had been here, I think she thinks that’s my fault too.”

Tim snorted and rubbed at his forehead. “You didn’t ask Daisy to sacrifice herself. From what she said, you tried to stop her. It’s why the two of you worked so well together on all that, because you both trusted the other to do what was necessary and keep the rest of them safe. The rest of us, really.”

“I know.” And Martin did know. He’d just expected to be the one doing the sacrificing. “Anyway, I didn’t say it was my fault, I just said Basira blames me. And there’s not really a way to convince her otherwise. She’s…”

“Stubborn? Hard-headed?”

“Tenacious.”

“Same thing.” Tim stifled a sneeze.

“Allergies?” Martin asked sympathetically.

Tim shrugged ruefully. “Stirred up a bit of dust digging out the prism, I guess. I knew I’d seen it around here somewhere, but it had been a while. And it was covered in cobwebs when I did.” He must have seen something in Martin’s expression, because he added, “I’m sure it was innocuous, Mart. I saw it ages ago, and I don’t think anyone has touched it since.”

“You’re probably right, but I’m still suspicious.” Martin nudged the prism lightly. “Although…why would the Web even care? How would it even know?”

“Spiders spinning daydreams in the copses.” The last word opened up into a yawn, which Tim tried to hide behind a hand.

It wasn’t even a good attempt, and Martin didn’t bother pretending he hadn’t seen it. “How much sleep did you actually get last night? Or at all this week?”

“I took a nap yesterday,” Tim said.

“At eleven in the morning. For thirty-seven minutes. And you weren’t so much asleep as sitting with your eyes closed petting the cat.” Martin raised an eyebrow at Tim’s sheepish look, while at the same time mentally tallying it up as a personal win as well as a point in favor of his argument that Tim didn’t call him out on Knowing that, since it was awfully specific and could only have come from the Beholding. “Go lie down, Tim. At least for an hour or two. You need the rest, and Umberto would probably like someone warm to cuddle with.”

“Last I saw he was curled up with Daisy. But okay.” Tim yawned and stood. “Thanks for the tea. Sorry I didn’t drink it.” With that, he lurched over to the trap door. Martin heard a faint mrrp as Umberto, or possibly one of Melanie’s cats, came over to seek the new cuddle buddy, and then all was silent again.

Alone in the dark, Martin stared at the prism. He understood the nature of light better than he had at fifteen, and he understood the Fears a bit better too, or at least he felt like he did. The Ceaseless Watcher was surprisingly reticent on the subject of itself and its fellows.

Or maybe not that surprising. Martin wouldn’t want to give the key to his potential undoing to anyone he didn’t trust not to use it either. Probably the only way to really Know the actual truth was to go through with the Watcher’s Crown, whatever that might have entailed. He was the Archivist, after all; if the ritual didn’t involve him being a…sacrificial lamb or whatever, he would probably be very important in whatever new world was created. There would be no hiding things from him, he thought. No secrets he would not know, no knowledge that could be withheld. All truths, any lies, secrets and strengths and weaknesses, all at his fingertips��

Wait. Those weren’t his thoughts.

Martin winced and drove the heel of his hand into his temple, gritting his teeth as he tried to force the Beholding back into submission. The trouble with getting more powerful, having more safeguards, is that the temptations got bigger and harder to resist, too. He wasn’t the megalomaniac type, he’d never wanted to rule the world or anything, but being in the dark—with a lowercase D, metaphorically speaking—got frustrating at times and it was difficult to resist the urge to just…have that information. The lure of a world where he could, and where he could control the ebb and flow of information, was pretty damn powerful. If Elias was the one trying to set it in motion—or had been, since he didn’t seem able to do much from in prison, even if he had managed to charm himself into a few privileges—then restricting Jon’s, and later Martin’s, access to information, constantly setting them up for situations where having that knowledge would have made all the difference in the world, was probably the most effective method in existence of getting them on his side. If Martin hadn’t had the Archives crew as anchors, it would have been far more difficult not to go to Elias and say look, fine, I know you want to bring the Ceaseless Watcher into this world, tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.

But he did have the others, and the image of what Jon’s face, or Melanie’s, would look like if he did was enough to make him mentally flip off the Eye and stride off to Peter Lukas’ office to go find himself something for a midnight snack.

Elias’s office, now Peter’s, actually had two parts, the large room in the back Elias had primarily used for storage and the small front room where he’d done his work. Peter used the back room as his primary office, on the rare occasions he was in, and the outer office had been given to Basira. Not that Martin saw either of them very often, but it was easy to see…well, it was easy to tell someone was using it, even if it was completely impersonal, even more than Elias’s office had been. The ledgers and fountain pens were gone, replaced with a squat ivory computer tower and a CRT monitor. The wire cup on the desk was the sort that came in standard office supply kits and contained generic, mass-market pens. The mouse pad was square and blank white with a brand name screen printed on the bottom right corner that was so worn and faded Martin couldn’t read it anymore. There wasn’t even a coat or shawl draped over the back of the chair, and even if it wasn’t that bad up here, Martin knew it was cold in the Lonely. Unless she’d got used to that by now.

There was, however, a spider on the handle to the door to Peter’s office. It moved up the door when Martin looked at it, but he didn’t trust that, and he decided, fuck it, he’d kill this one. He was getting damned tired of the Web and its ilk. Slowly, keeping his eyes on the spider to make sure it didn’t get away before he could, he reached behind him, found the drawer of the desk, slid it open, and reached inside. His fingers found something smooth and solid and heavy-feeling, and as he tried to grip it, something moved.

Click.

The slightly muffled voice that came out of the drawer was Gertrude’s. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course I do.” The voice that responded was wholly unfamiliar to Martin.

“Well, that’s a shame.” If Martin had been inclined to doubt Gerry’s memory and his mother’s statement, the tone of voice in which Gertrude delivered that would have left him in no doubt they were related.

Distracted from the spider, he turned, pulled the tape recorder out of the desk, and stopped playback, then rewound it and sat in Basira’s chair. It wasn’t something she was recording, and obviously if she meant for him to listen to it she’d have left it for him. Maybe she hadn’t listened to it herself yet. But, well, he was here, and she wouldn’t be in until the actual working hours started, and it was better to listen up here where he wouldn’t risk waking Jon anyway. He could rewind it when he was done and put it back and no one would be the wiser.

The recorder popped, indicating it had reached the start of the reel, and Martin pushed PLAY.

This time he listened much more carefully to the opening exchange. He heard himself in Gertrude’s words and tone—talking to Breekon, talking to Mustermann, hell, the way he’d spoken to his own mother on her deathbed—and wondered how much was being the Archivist and how much was being related and how much was just coincidence. The thoughts snapped out of his head, though, when she started talking about Agnes.

It wasn’t a proper statement. Not at first. That didn’t start for a bit, and he knew exactly when it did in the small part of him that held on when the Archivist swept over him, because the actual statement unfolded before him in grainy, sketchy black and white, like an animation pencil test being projected through an infrared camera thirty years out of date. But it was compelling in its own way, and in the way of most of Gertrude’s commentary, it answered a few questions and opened up so many more. The man who had once been the head of the Church of the Lightless Flame and later been Jane Prentiss’ landlord was jaded, bitter…and definitely scared. As defiant as he was at first, Martin could practically smell the fear the more Gertrude spoke, and something in him was almost disappointed that the man was dead and this wouldn’t be joining his dreams.

No. No, he definitely didn’t want to dream about this.

The tape clicked off, and Martin drew in a lungful of air, sitting back in Basira’s chair. His hand tightened around the recorder, and he felt the buzzing, at which point it occurred to him that he’d left the tape playing on the desk in front of him. He looked at his hand and, sure enough, there was a more retro recorder than the model that had been in Basira’s desk, recording away. When had he pulled that out?

“Gertrude didn’t mention what she did to Eugene Vanderstock,” he said slowly. “Neither did Arthur Nolan. And I sure as hell haven’t done any digging into it, since this literally just came to my attention. But the Knowledge…is there, whether I want it or not. I don’t want it. I wish I didn’t know what it felt like to be alive as your whole being is infused with grit, how painful that is, but I do. Good to know that works against the Fourteen, anyway. Or some of its agents. I’m not sure how high up in the Lightless Flame Eugene was, or how powerful. Not as powerful as Gertrude, that’s for damned sure, but…”

He stared vacantly at Basira’s recorder, then leaned forward to rewind it for her before sitting back with a sigh. “Hill Top Road,” he mused. “Everything keeps coming back to that. We’ve had so many little threads go towards it that never end up anywhere, so many stories that weave around it. And now this. I-I know it’s a story we knew, sort of, but at the same time…we didn’t know Agnes’ side of it. We still don’t, I guess. I wonder what she thought, growing up there. I wonder if she thought of it as home, or just a place to live. I wonder what made her decide to protect Ronald Sinclair, if it was the whim of a child who wanted to see what would happen or an attempt to prove she was capable of more than causing pain and destruction or just a desire to stop the Web from winning.” He sighed again. “I wonder if it was actually the Lightless Flame’s doing that kept Gertrude alive that long or if it was the bond with Agnes itself. I won’t let myself wonder if my bond with Jon and Gerry is strong enough to keep me safe like that.”

He shook his head and said again, “Hill Top Road. I can’t help but wonder how much centers around that. It’s not just the statements. The matron of the Sunnydene Children’s Home mentioned Mr. Fielding’s halfway house, Gerry and Melanie and I went to that Halloween party there…there have been so many things centered around it. The Web, the Desolation, the Spiral, the Lone—” He stopped and sat up straighter as the knowledge slammed into his head, for the first time in twenty years.

“No,” he breathed. “Not the Lonely. It wasn’t the Lonely that was after me then. It was the Dark. I just assumed it was the Lonely, but…fuck. No wonder those things at the swap meet were so interested in me.”

He sat in stunned silence for a few moments as the implications of that washed over him. He’d been wrong about that all these years. What else was he wrong about at Hill Top Road?

There was an analog clock on the wall, plain and austere. Martin glanced at it and calculated, then stood decisively. “Right. I think this is a thread I need to pull. I can make the next train to Oxford and probably be back before everyone wakes up properly. It’s time to finish this once and for all. I’m heading to Hill Top Road.”

Click. The recorder shut itself off, which Martin took as approval of his plan.

He wasn’t thoroughly stupid. He went back through the Archives and left a note, just in case someone—likely Gerry—woke up before he got back. For just a moment, he hesitated and stepped into his office. Jon was still curled up in their nest of blankets, breathing lightly, looking peaceful and somehow younger than his age in his sleep. The temptation to crawl back under the covers, curl around him, and sleep a little longer was definitely present. Only the certainty that if he didn’t go now Jon would insist on going with him kept him from doing that.

Instead, he knelt down, pressed a gentle, tender kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead, and quietly let himself out of the Archives.

It was early enough that the sun hadn’t come up yet, and the trip to Paddington station was thoroughly uneventful. There was a bit of chaos stemming from the newly set train schedules, but more people lived in Oxford and commuted to work in London than the other way around, so despite everything Martin ended up having the carriage largely to himself, which gave him plenty of space and time to think over his plan.

He didn’t have one.

The shortest route to Hill Top Road from the train station took him straight through the park. Childish superstition warred with stubborn defiance, and in the end, he decided to risk it. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. It could have been that he was too powerful to interest whatever had been here before, it could be that it had long ago left, but more than likely it was just too close to sunrise to be prime hunting grounds for the Dark, despite the clouds and drizzle. Whatever the case, he made it to the other side unmolested.

The house Judith Bradford’s grandfather had owned was gone, which was something of a shock; it had been the largest and most impressive house on the block, and now there was nothing but a slight depression where the basement had once been. Martin stared at it for a moment, letting memory and knowledge mingle. It had burnt down not long after construction on the replacement for the Fielding house had concluded, probably retaliation from the Lightless Flame for the loss of Agnes Montague, possibly just bad luck. Either way, it wasn’t where he was heading and it wasn’t any of his concern.

Still…as he continued on up the road, getting progressively wetter and wishing like hell he’d brought an umbrella, he couldn’t help but think back to the party. He actually hadn’t had a very good time even before Gerry made them leave; he’d spent about half the time avoiding the food so that he didn’t get called names for being fat and the other half of the time avoiding Lizzie van Pelt and Helen—Helen—what was her last name? They’d both been dressed as Anastasia and spent an awful lot of time trying to flirt with him, and since even back then Martin had been quietly in love with one of the older boys in the group he’d been very uncomfortable with it. He’d never much enjoyed the ones from previous years, either, and he’d really only gone because Melanie wanted him to.

There weren’t any good memories on this street. Not his, not Ronald Sinclair’s, not Ivo Lensik’s, not Father Burroughs’, probably not even Agnes’. He wasn’t going to learn anything that didn’t hurt. Why was he doing this?

Because, he thought. Because he couldn’t leave the mystery alone, because it was important to so many Fears, because there was something he didn’t understand. Because he’d felt so strongly that he shouldn’t dig more into Hill Top Road. Because the Web hadn’t tried a ritual yet either, as far as he knew—unless that was what Raymond Fielding had been up to—and the risk of Jon or Sasha being made a keystone of one was too great for him to let things alone. Because—goddamn it, Helen’s last name was Richardson, the onetime real estate agent who’d been taken by the Spiral had been the same pretentious snob who’d decided he would make an ideal partner and had insulted his sister in the bargain. Nobody deserved what she’d got, he thought, but it couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.

Preoccupied with that, he walked up the front path of 105 Hill Top Road and reached for the door.

It wasn’t until he was actually inside the building, neat and well-appointed and sturdy and clean—apart from all the cobwebs—that it occurred to Martin that the door shouldn’t have been open. Nobody lived there—all their research had been very clear on that—and while it didn’t seem to be for sale, there was certainly no reason for it to be unlocked. And yet he’d just…walked in like he owned the place.

A feeling of foreboding crept up his spine. It was not helped by the soft click as the tape recorder he hadn’t realized he’d put back in his pocket clicked on.

Martin pulled it out and spoke into it as quietly as possible. “I’m…in the house. Not the house, of course, the one Raymond Fielding and Agnes Montague lived in burned down years ago, this is a rebuild. But this…this land, this spot, there’s something significant about it. And it invited me in. No…it led me in. I can’t help but recall that in Ronald Sinclair’s statement, he talked about being drawn back in by invisible threads, that he didn’t feel like he was making a choice but he knew it was a thing he was going to do. I’m in much the same boat. I can’t walk away now, but…why not? What’s keeping me here?” He took a deep breath. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

Cautiously, he began moving through the ground floor. Like most fat people, Martin had always been very light on his feet, and like most children who’d grown up in abusive households he had long ago mastered the art of moving quietly without being heard. The building might be ten years old, but it had never been lived in, so the chances of creaky floorboards were slim, and there was every chance he could get through without disturbing…whoever had unlocked the door.

Christ, that was an unsettling thought.

“There’s no obvious basement,” he murmured. “I know that was in the old building, but Anya Villette’s statement suggested there was one in this building, too. I would have thought…” He trailed off, staring at what he’d at first assumed to be a closet. There was…something behind it. Something important.

Slowly, inexorably, both afraid to know what was there and afraid to walk away, Martin reached for the handle of the door. His fingers wrapped around it, and he began, with the same deliberate slowness, to turn it.

A hand clamped over his mouth, and another arm wrapped around his torso, restraining him with surprising strength. He let out a muffled curse and tried to poke his tongue through his lips and lick the hand to get whoever it belonged to to let go, but somehow, his lips wouldn’t part. The hand pressed over them seemed strangely…sticky.

“Sorry about this, Martin,” a voice, low and female and wholly unfamiliar, said directly into his ear. “Can I call you Martin? I’m going to call you Martin. Anyway, I am sorry, but I thought it was high time we had a little…chat. Face to face, as it were.” The person gave a low chuckle. It wasn’t especially sinister, but it nevertheless filled Martin’s entire being with dread. “Step into my parlor.”

[thedroloisms]

It’s the people who are saying “speculation is lktwt behavior” and “He could be innocent so don’t go around labeling him as an abuser” are the same people who posted pictures of the interior of Dream’s house. The same people who claimed that those photos were “public information” because they were on a realtor website how did you find the listing? and hand waved it away with “he’s a bad person so I’m allowed to post his direct address online and encourage people to harass him”.

And like you said, it’s always been the case. There is no consistency in morals. They just like this one because he’s balding and British.

LAJSFKASLJ

like damn you know i didn't think you guys would be THAT blatant with the favoritism. color me impressed?

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Phone: (770) 455-5999

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Description: Bravo Paint provides high-quality staining services for the Metro Atlanta Area, including interior and exterior painting for homes and businesses. A fresh coat of paint can breath new life into your home or office. Whether it's adding an accent wall or repainting a house, paint and color can change the look of your property. If you plan on selling your home or if you just want a fresh new look, new paint can improve your home's curb appeal and increase its value. To further improve your home's curb appeal, consider some of our other services, as well, such as pressure washing and staining. Bravo Paint can power wash driveways, sidewalks, and even the siding of your home. We can also stain wood, concrete, and siding.

Google My Business CID Url: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=1752056602466551305

Business Hours: Sunday Closed Monday 8:00 am - 5:00 pm Tuesday 8:00 am - 5:00 pm Wednesday 8:00 am - 5:00 pm Thursday 8:00 am - 5:00 pm Friday 8:00 am - 5:00 pm Saturday Closed

Services: Exterior Painting, Interior Painting, Wood Staining

Keywords: Painting Company Marietta GA, Painting Contractor Marietta, Exterior Painting Marietta, Interior Painting Marietta, Wood Staining Marietta GA

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The Musuem at FIT is a fashion forward museum that showcases the garments and fashionable items the college has collected from various people/locations over the years. The current exhibition above is named, "Designing Women: Fashion Creators and Their Interiors". The exhibition is running up until May 14, 2023. The Musuem is free of charge and hours are posted on the museum website.

The exhibition shows dresses created by women designers in the late nineteenth century, who had a large impact in the formation of couture houses in New York, London, and Paris. The exhibition focuses on how each women used interior design and decorating to enhance their lives and the garments they create. Each dress comes with a sheet the lists the date, designer, and a description of the item. In the photo attached to the description sheet above, describes the following to be an evening dress made with silk, chiffon, and glass beads. The dress the danced in florals and gold-colored materials to enhance the idea of luxury fashion from previous centuries.