#no idea what apeture

[reynareina69]

Northern Minnesota

[wandasreallover]

Obsession| wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings-mean wanda, readers bf

Part2

The air crackled with unspoken threats and suppressed desires, leaving me paralyzed with fear and a strange, unsettling fascination. I had no idea what was happening, what Wanda was capable of, what she intended to do with the power of her obsession. All I knew was that something had changed, the game had shifted, and the stakes had been raised to a level I could never have imagined.

It had started subtly, with lingering glances across the crowded lecture hall, a whispered 'hello' in the hallway that was just a shade too long, a note slipped under my door with a single word – 'mine.' The possessiveness in that word, the way it sent a shiver down my spine, was the first sign of the danger I was in.

Wanda Maximoff was a whirlwind of contradictions. She was the girl everyone feared and admired, the one with the sharp wit and the colder demeanor. I had always stood on the periphery, watching her from afar, mesmerized by her aura of mystery. But now, she was drawing me in, each interaction a step closer to a precipice I was both terrified and strangely drawn to. Rationally i knew i shouldn't give her even a thought, i mean i had the perfect boyfriend, grades and i was somewhat satified at my current life.

However, She was relentless. In class, her gaze was a laser beam, following my every movement, making me self-conscious, my every word carefully measured. In the library, our fingers brushed over the same book, sending a jolt of electricity through me. In the cafe, her presence was a weight, a suffocating pressure that made it difficult to breathe. I moved out not long after her confession, haunted by the words spoken that night, too unsettled by her presence to stay there.

'You're mine,' she said one night, her voice low and husky, the words barely a whisper. I was caught in my own apartment, drawn there by an invitation I didn't understand. The space was cramped, filled with an odd mix of vintage furniture and the scent of lavender incense. Her eyes, those deep dark apetures, held me captive, their intensity making my heart pound against my ribs.

'Wanda,' I tried to pull back, 'I don't understand.'despite every fibre of being screaming of the danger i still found it hard not to get somewhat lost in her overwhelming gaze.

She laughed, a brittle sound that echoed in the small space, her fingers tracing my jawline, her touch sending shivers down my spine. 'You're mine, and I won't let you go. You're mine, and soon you'll come to understand.'

Her words were a threat, but there was something else in her eyes, a flicker of vulnerability, a desperate need for connection that I couldn't ignore. I had always seen her as a fortress, impenetrable and cold, but now, beneath the hardened exterior, I saw a wounded soul, yearning for something she couldn't have. Much like before when the idea of her obsession was first spoken.

I tried to break free, to put distance between us, but she was everywhere. She was the ghost in my dreams, the voice in my head, the shadow that followed me like a relentless stalker. My friends noticed the change in me, the anxiety that gnawed at my insides, the constant fear that she was watching, that she knew everything.

Then came the incident.

She cornered me in the hallway, her eyes burning with a feverish intensity. 'You're mine,' she repeated, her voice barely a whisper, her hand gripping my arm with a force that made my skin crawl. The air around us crackled with an unseen energy, a palpable tension that made my hair stand on end.

Panic seized me, and I tried to pull away, but her grip tightened, her eyes burning into mine. I saw a flicker of something dark in her gaze, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

'You're mine, and I will not be denied,' she whispered, her voice dangerous, her fingers digging into my flesh.

The next morning, I woke up to an empty apartment, a note on the table, a single word scrawled across the page - 'yours.' The air was heavy, the lingering scent of her perfume still clinging to the room.

The fear was replaced with a strange sense of relief. I was free, at least for now. But the experience had left a permanent scar, a constant reminder of the power of obsession, of the dark depths a human heart could reach.

Wanda was gone for now she didn't show up to classes in the following days and i couldn't help but miss her presence.the fear still remained, a constant shadow in my life. I knew, with a chilling certainty, that she was watching, waiting for her chance to claim what she believed was rightfully hers. The game had changed, and the stakes were higher than could have ever imagined, leaving me trapped in a twisted game of obsession, with no control over my own life.

[bogexe]

Making Glados cosplay: Day 1

OKAY so i want to make a Glados cosplay and i have really good idea how to do this and i didnt seen ANY concepts for her clothing like i want to do. I'm low on budget so i will be using things that i have in home or if i really would need something, I will buy it.

I have two concepts in mind. One which idk if I would be able to do but i think it will looks sooooo cool. Another is that what i can do with just things in my house.

Hear me out. Mermaid shape Dress, A LOT of cables, "lab coat" with apeture logo ofc, this glados head for one eye that i see in a lot of her cosplays.

This is what i have in my mind, a little bade for the cosplay, i need to buy black blouse and with hot glue i will stick a foam into it. I will be adding lace glowes to add more black into it. I need to make it into a some form of concept art or smt.

I want to make some props too, im thinking about making a key card and a cake on a plate.

[hlvr-sr]

SIMULATION UPDATED, STARTING UP SYSTEM

Hello, Gordon Wayne Martinez. This is a automated message of the Half Life simulation system created by Apeture science. This simulation will allow you to feel everything you feel in the simulation, and will help us out with getting everything correct.

If you feel something go wrong, or have lost a part of your body when the simulation is over, please contact APERTURESCIENCE@GMAIL.COM.

We hope you have fun, and wish for you to send us your opinion after you're done with the simulation.

Welcome to the Simulation Reality AU. This is based off a idea that was given to me one day.

"What if the game bled into Gordon's real life, and caused him to eventually lose his mind?"

ACT 1. [A NEW START]

ACT 2. [BOOTING UP]

[technicallyoneofakind]

Me: *watches Flip Flop on HGTV while waiting to get oil changed at a tire place* Okay but why the f*ck does everything have to be monochromatic and minimal?? Do you work for Apeture Science?! What is this house? A test chamber to you??

Me and the other people there waiting on the third episode: Okay. This lady is terrible. She has no other ideas than MINIMALISM! Her only color pallet is BLACK and WHITE! She thinks her garbage decor is COASTAL!

[fvriva]

love as a construct is so good............... it's got the ghost of cara mia addio (the song presumably sung by glados/caroline through the turrets to chell as she leaves apeture about a mother loving her little one) in it, but it's a little bit halting, a little bit unfinished. glados at the point in the story where this originates is still a potato, and hasn't yet made the necessary mental connections to reconnect what once was capable of love of any human kind, and yet here it is, a reminder. an echo. an idea. a construct of her imagination.

[the-meme-monarch]

i like the idea that black mesa is like, opposite of apeture. apeture does what they must because they can, black mesa does what they can because they must. basically what im saying is black mesa made a synthetic cat just to show off

“oh YEAH you made a robot that’s SO COOL *eye roll* anyway look at the fucking CAT WE MADE”

[bitchwhoreofastorm]

"What do you think she'll look like?" Karnalta asked in a whisper.

Iliah answered after a long moment of contemplation: "Shiny." 

The two children stood, pressed close together, on the steps of the Mournhold Temple. It was a cold clear day, late in Sun's Dusk, but neither girl seemed to mind the ill weather; they were both so clad in finery, layers and layers of spledid spidersilk robes, that Iliah even felt a bit stuffy in the inconvenient clothes. It happened to be their tenth birthday. 

"That's not an answer," Karnalta replied bemusedly. 

Iliah pulled at one of her too-tight undersleeves. "I dunno, Kar. What will she look like?" 

"Like a dragon," Karnalta said. "She'll have twenty wings, fifty eyes, scales like emeralds, a crown made of Stallyrhyme, ten swords, thirty wings, hair that's lava--" 

"What sort of swords?" 

"What?"

"Like a scimitar, or a claymore, or a longsword, or a--" 

"How would I know!" Karnalta threw her hands in the air. "A sword's a sword's a sword." 

Iliah shifted in her feet, pulling harder at her undersleeve. She hated clothing that hugged her skin, and these robes were hideously feminine, all purple and frills and flowing silks; it was only for solemn duty that she endured the torment. As they were dressed that morning Karnalta had asked their father why the Gods, if they were so fair and benevolent, cared what their worshipers wore while visiting them, and she'd earned a scolding for it. Apparently it was not Ra'athim to wear breeches to an audience with the divine. 

Truly it was a curse, to be Ra'athim. 

"I think she has a khopesh," Iliah prompted her twin to keep talking. 

Karnalta frowned, because Karnalta hated it when Iliah knew something she didn't, even if the thing was about swords. "No, she doesn't have a khopesh," she announced suddenly. "She has a Goodsword."

"A greatsword?" 

"No, I said a goodsword."

"I don't think that's a real--"

"They only use it in High Rock. You wouldn't have heard about it. I only know it because I read more than you." 

"Oh." Iliah glanced up at Karnalta. "Really?" 

"Yeah, all the Breton knights wield Goodswords." 

"Why's she have a Breton sword?" 

"Oh, she's very multicultural like that. You know, she's so diplomatic, she has all the swords."

Iliah looked back down at her sleeves again-- why did they have to be so tight?

"You'll see," insisted Karnalta. "When we go in, you'll see, she'll be wielding a Breton goodsword--" 

"You said she has ten swords." 

"Yeah, well, she'll be wielding ten Breton goodswords."

"When do you think we'll go in?" asked Iliah, looking back to the Temple. "Father's been in there forever." 

"Well, duh," Karnalta said. "The living gods have fifty wings and twenty heads and a hundred eyes, and Father must greet every single one. It's going to take him ages."

"Oh." Iliah paused thoughtfully. "I want to see the twenty headed goddess." 

"Well, you can't," Karnalta informed her, "Because we're children, so she'll send out a puppet made of gold to greet us instead. She won't want to frighten us, see?"

"What if we peeked through the window?" 

"Oh. Uh." 

Iliah looked over to the wall-- she could see, high up along the walls of the Temple, a ventilation duct, not dissimilar to the one in their family mansion. 

"Or the ceiling," Iliah added.

Karnalta followed her gaze, but remained stubbornly quiet.

"Let's go peek,” Iliah said.

"Umm." 

"Come on." 

"But what if father comes out--"

"You said yourself, it'll take forever." Iliah grabbed her sister's hand, tugging. 

Karnalta frowned. "Well..."  

"What, are you scared?" 

"No!" 

"Don't be scared, Kar, I'll protect you." 

"I'm not scared." And, abruptly, Karnalta dragged Iliah over to the little apeture, in the wall. 

Iliah couldn't wield magic; Karnalta lived and breathed spellcraft. Karnalta was timid, self-conscious, while Iliah was headstrong, the muscle to her sister's brain. Together they were the heir Ra'athim, two halves of a cocksure young girl who knew by her birth and blood that any worldly desire was hers to be enjoyed without restraint. They were no stranger to breaking into secret places, and their technique was refined to an art. With two weak levitation spells, courtesy of Karnalta, they ascended the walls and were within the aperture before the Ordinators could notice that they'd run off. Their gaudy ceremonial robes even camouflaged them against the gleaming Temple wall. 

The ventilation-shaft was narrow, barely narrow enough for two not-particularly-large ten year old Dunmeri children to move through it on their hands and knees. Iliah had been sent up first and she was in front; she scrambled headlong into the dark tunnel until she felt Karnalta grab her ankle. 

"I'm here," Iliah whispered. 

"Shh!" Karnalta said in reply. "Things will echo in here." 

"Sorry." A pause. "My robes are too tight." 

"What?" 

"I can't crawl in them." 

"So take them off, idiot." 

Getting the robes on had been a half-hour task that morning; taking them off promised, in utter darkness, in a very narrow tunnel, promised to be near-impossible. Still, Iliah was so desparate to be free of the inconvenient garments that she managed, and, though ripping them in several places, wriggled free of the confining robes in short order. 

"Did you just rip them?" Karnalta whispered, horrified. "Father will--"

"I'll tell father I tripped." 

"This was such a bad idea." 

"It's not too late to back out if you're scared." 

"I'm not scared!" Karnalta shoved Iliah in the butt at that last protest, and Iliah, taking it as a sign, began to crawl. 

True to her reputation as the brave twin, Iliah had no qualm about wriggling forwards, into utter darkness; though she was literally trapped in a tiny passageway, she felt much less confined in only her trousers and singlet. She was simply happy to escape the chilly outside, and happy to go on this adventure, even if she did feel a bit guilty for Karnalta's terrified grasp on her ankle-- Karnalta was much less inclined to claustrophobic spaces, or disobeying their father. But Karnalta didn’t mind girly clothing, so it evened out.

"How much further?" Karnalta hissed nervously. 

"We've only been going thirty seconds." Iliah whispered back at her.

"So we're nearly there, right?" 

"Um. We'll see." 

"What if we get stuck?"

"We won't." 

"But what if we do?" 

"We go backwards."

"What if something blocks our way out?"

"Then we go forwards."

"But what if something blocks the way forwards?" 

"We go backwards." 

"You idiot!" 

"Shh!" Iliah stopped crawling. She could see, just before her, thin slats of light, as if through a grate, and she could hear familiar voices, wafting dinly down the passage.

"What is it?" Karnalta whispered.

"I think I hear father." 

"... We should go back." 

"No, I think he's talking to the goddess!" 

Iliah wriggled forwards, ignoring Karnalta's nails, which now dug very hard into her bare ankle. Inching forwards until her face was above the grate, she could just see her father; the top of his sleek black head with its crown of gleaming indigo ebony, and his rich purple robes of shining spidersilk, matching those of his daughters. It was strange, Iliah thought, to be looking at him from above-- this man who always looked down at them instead. 

"Ili," Karnalta hissed from behind her. "Ili--" 

"It's definitely him," Iliah whispered back. "He's talking to... someone." 

"The goddess?" 

"I don't know." 

"Can you check?" 

"I can't see her." 

"So move forwards." 

"I don't--" Iliah had to stifle a yelp of alarm, for at that moment Karnalta had dropped to her stomach and army-crawled beneath Iliah, so that Iliah was forced to flatten herself against the roof so as not to crush her sister.

"Wow," Karnalta whispered, her nose poking over the edge of the grate, "That is him." 

"Can you see the goddess?" Iliah asked, wincing from the uncomfortable position she'd been forced into. 

"Not yet. You're too far back." 

"Can you move? This hurts." 

"You move. Go forwards, go see if you can see her." 

"On the grate?"

"Yeah. It'll hold you, I promise." 

Iliah wasn't sure of that, but her knees were beginning to hurt, so, delicately, she maneouvered forwards, crawling over her twin sister-- who evidently had no regard for personal space-- and onto the grate.

"Can you see her?" Karnalta whispered. 

Iliah leaned down, pressing her cheek against the grate. "Yeah," she answered after a moment.

"Really?" 

"I don't know, actually." 

"How do you not know?"

"She only has one head--"

"You really believed that?" Karnalta asked. "You're so gullible!" And, without warning, she pushed forwards to try and get a glimpse of her own--

And then the world was a blur. The only sound to reach Iliah's ears as she plummeted to the floor was her own scream.

...

She was alive. She was alive, and it had only been a split second-- she hadn't even hit the floor. 

She was alive, but she wasn't falling. She hadn't screamed either, she realized-- it was Karnalta's scream she'd heard, from the ceiling, now so high above her-- in a narrow rectangle she could see a reflection of her own face, blurry and indistinct, eyes wide in horror.

She was alive, and she wasn't falling. She was suspended perfectly in midair, in her underwear, within the splendid interior of Mournhold Temple.

Iliah turned her head to the side and found herself staring at the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

Almalexia only had two eyes and one head and no wings at all, but her eyes were a soft jade colour, her hair copper-red, her skin golden, and her lips curled into a benevolent smile. A thin scar running across her cheek only made her more perfect. She had her hand extended, and Iliah realized-- belatedly-- that it was divine power which had saved her from her death and now held her safely above the perilous marble floor. She thought, vaguely, that she should say 'thank you'.

"Iliah Ra'athim," Almalexia said, in a voice warm as sunlight. "Does your sister not know that levitation is forbidden within Mournhold?"

"Iliah," came the voice of Iliah's father. "By Mephala's bosom, what-- why--"

Iliah was lowered gently to the ground, and she found herself standing, awkwardly, at the Goddess of the Dunmer. While her father rambled indignantly, making curses about his insolent daughters, Iliah stared up at Almalexia in muteshock. She should say something, she thought, introduce herself or apologise, but she hardly ever introduced herself-- it was always Karnalta's job to introduce them. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say.

"What do you have to say for yourself!" Iliah's father asked in a near-shout.  

"What sort of sword is that?" Iliah asked, pointing to the beautiful weapon hanging at Almalexia's hip.

Both adults were stunned silent, for a moment; then Almalexia laughed, and even her laughter was sublimely beautiful. "A khopesh," she replied warmly. "This is Hopesfire, a khopesh."

Iliah's eyes widened. "KAR!" she shouted, turning her gaze up to the ceiling. "I was right! She has a Khopesh!"

"Karnalta?" Iliah's father asked, horrified, following her gaze up to the grate, from which Karnalta was staring down in abject fear. "I should have guessed! You Oblivion-accursed creature--"

"Melam, bite your tongue." Almalexia chided him gently. "You brought them hear to see me."

"My goddess, I am so humiliated--"

"Don't be." Almalexia turned her benevolent smile back to Iliah, and Iliah fancied that she was trying not to laugh. "They're Ra'athim. And it has always been a Ra'athim's way, to poke their noses where they ought not to."

...

A long, long while later, a Hand of Almalexia awoke in the night, breathless from her dream, and from the realization it had brought her. She dressed herself in her priests' robe and, unable to stay her tongue, flew, running, to the inner sanctum of her Goddess.

"Almalexia!" Iliah burst out, barging into the Inner Chapel. "My goddess, may we speak?"

"Iliah?" Almalexia, glancing up from her letters, frowned. "What is it?"

"The first time we met--" Iliah said, breathless, "When I fell out of the roof-- that grate-- you knew I was there the whole time, didn't you? Did you make me fall out of the roof?"

Almalexia paused, placing her pen down, and fixed Iliah with a benevolent smile.

"Almalexia knows," she replied, "And sees."

And the Goddess of the Dunmer prompltly burst into laughter, as her poor Hand slumped against the wall and groaned in embarrassment.

[bart-is-smart-and-reviews-art]

Murmel Murmel.... My dreams from this point on will be spoken in Murmel Murmel... This performance dug its way into my subconscious and I don’t know if it will ever leave, and I don’t think that is a good thing. 

But I guess that is besides the point. The top of this show definitely had my full attention as I had no idea what I was about to get into. The grey suit [1:50], the manufactured clumsiness, and the general absurdity of the dialogue had me feeling like I was about to watch an episode of the Eric Andre Show, but this was far from that. I can’t tell you much about what I think this was trying to say or the questions it might be asking. The attempts of my brain to connect dots was met with frustration and if I am totally honest, a lot of annoyance. That could also be attributed to the dialogue which eventually felt like It was inescapable even when they shifted tone and pace. Even now in the aftermath I still hear it.

This simply feels like a set designer showing off that hypnotizing choreography can be done with the fly system with flat colored platforms attached to battens. The saving grace of this show, and the reason that I was able to sit through it I feel was the quite fantastic work done by the crew and designers. They start as a way to frame the performers and emphasize their movements, working almost like an apeture in a camera lens, zooming in to add intensity. But by the second act of the show [52:00] they begin taking on a life of their own. The battens become their own character in this show almost, performing along side the actors, in unison with each other. The humans on stage began to feel like the background as my focus shifted nearly entirely to the nearly hypnotizing batten choreography.  

[fallingasleepforever]

Photo bro tips

Ok honestly not to be a photography bro but people in general who do amateur photography do not understand the significance of the lighting you do. I think people are more interested in cameras and their lenses. They are important and you should invest in high quality lenses (they really do make a difference) but you should be paying attention to higher end camera bodies ONLY if you need their special features for technical reasons (especially for video features). And you shouldn’t be buying thousands of dollars worth of lenses if you only use your camera once a month to take casual pics. but to get back to my point, photography is really all about lighting. You need to understand lighting and lighting techniques to create impressive images. Even if you have the nicest lenses with the most expensive camera body you wont be taking incredible pictures if you have no idea how to light your images. You also need to master shutter speed/ISO/Apeture in order to efficiently take pictures and work with the lighting. I ALWAYS do manual. If you dont do manual when taking photos you really do not understand what you are doing. Auto is only good for casual and lowkey situations. If you want to step up your game and push yourself to really understand photography you NEED to invest in lighting equipment (and i do not mean a cheap 60$ soft box kit this will barely do anything). It will make your life a thousand times easier.

[titleknown]

“Today’s feature is an iconic work, featuring the deepest love of all, the sensual love between a college student and the talking fleshy wound in his wall. Yes its-

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The theatre was black, the white seats stood out like tombstones, the aisles like a grey road, the only light coming in came from the projector, whirring and clicking and flickering upon the screen.

Well, that and the door that had now clattered open. An extremely muscular woman covered in yellow spikes stood framed by light, like a lightning bolt around a cannonball. Nails were embedded in her arms. The blue blood dripping from her wounds crackled with electricity, as her breathing came heavily. Her name was Body Shock and she had come to kick ass and not make They Live references.

In front of the stage stood something like an organic film projector. The eye in its lens darted towards the back of the room, and the brains in the globes on top of his head whirred like film reels. He pointed at the interloper with one of his gloved tripod leg-hands.

“Oh, hello.” said the tripod thing. It stepped down, and yet it didn’t. It was on the screen and yet it wasn’t, staying as a filmic image while it paradoxically moved forth. And there was applause though nobody was there. “I didn’t know we were having a guest today. I didn’t know so much, I’m surprised the Ushers didn’t take you out.”

“Your Frankensteins, or whatever the fuck you called them are out of the picture.” She walked forward, bleeding. The tripod-thing pointed at the projector light, and it started to whirr faster. The world began to flicker and dissolve in front of her like a film image. She pushed in one of the nails a little harder, and it all became clear again. “Don’t bother with that mental bullshit or whatever you pulled on everyone else, I found a way to get past that shit. ”

She wiped off the blood from one of her wounds and licked it. “Pain keeps it away, the needles keep me in my head.”

“A-hm. Interesting. Very Ronnie Rocket of you.” the tripod thing said. The flickering declined

Body Shock stopped. “What the fuck is a Ronnie Rocket?” She shook it off and kept going. “Anyhoo, you seem to be running this shithouse, set it up as a three-dollar-theatre when it’s some glorified roach motel. They ticket in, but they don’t ticket out.”

She remembered the pamplets she took off one of the Franken-whatever-the-fucks. If the humans in those tube-chairs and talk of a new “Revenue Plan” was any indication, whatever the little pipsqueak, Mr Midnight SHow or or Our Established Founder or whatever the fuck he was called, whatever that fucker wanted wasn’t anything good.

She walked up and grabbed the little thing by the… throat? Well, the part where the tripod-arms met. “I want you to let them the fuck out of there and get the fuck out of town.”

Mr Midnight calmly shook his head and disappeared out of her hand and onto the other side of the stage, like a single jarring jump-cut.

“A better idea: You leave us alone, and I don’t have you escorted from the premises. A business has to make money you know, and I think this is the least  cruel way we could have expanded our operations.”

She looked at him. She didn’t think he was lying, but she did not give one solitary shit.

“ I have some commie friends I know of that could call bullshit, but I don’t know enough o that stuff, so Imma just gonna beat twelve different shades of SHIT out of you.” She cracked her knuckles and ran towards him.

In a jumpcut she was clasped tight in one gigantic hand. The existence of the Mr Midnight Show on the screen and the one grabbing her in his gloved claw was less liminal than before, like a grotesque three-dee movie stretching out from a breathing screen. “You know, there’s a lot more shades than twelve in light Miss Huesca.”

The voice of Midnight seemed to be coming from everywhere, louder and louder, and the silver screen began to look like a hungering ocean.“And I don’t think you could beat them out of me even if this were a film.” Body Shock let out an electrical pulse from her skin. The looming claw just lit up for a moment, and the tripod drew her closer.

But the light. The light. The light was projecting, still, the form, from that apeture up above them. If only she could generate n electrical bolt enough from her skin to break it.  God if her impulsive ass hadn’t picked the worst day to do this, when her powers were at their lowest and she could’ve zapped that smarmy prick from across the theatre, she thought to herself as she looked at the light receding and yet swallowing her.

But then, she remembered what she did have.

She looked at the light in the back, focused her electrical energies inward, and in one simple burst she shifted her weight and the nails in her arms flew out. Most of them hit the wall, but mroe than one hit that box. There was a sound of machinery banging and squealing, and she swore she could hear a rat screaming.

The theatre went dark, barely lit by her crackling blood. The walls were bleeding silver nitrate and she was free from the hand, and the tripod thing was rubbing its brain-containers and groaning.

She didn’t waste much time running up abd grabbing it by the neck again, another hand keeping the arms below still.

All Mr Midnight could say was “Maybe we can negotiate a few things?”

Yep, it’s Mr Midnight Show vs Body Shock, with a surprising victor, for yet another drabble.

Again, the story and adaptation thereof is CC-BY-SA, while the characters n concepts are free to use as long as I, Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator.

And, again, if you want to support more of these, check out my Patreon, maybe throw a few bucks my way to start/support some Secret Special Projects!

[piphotographyandfineart]

Building Your Photography Skills: The Exposure Triangle

There are three major concepts that you’ll need to develop or build upon; technical skills, artistic skills, and personality. Today, we’ll discuss the technical skills you’ll need as a photographer.

There isn’t very much to the technical skills needed of a photographer, it simply revolves around what settings you choose on your camera when you’re about to create a photograph or a series of…

[victorluvsalice]

Today on Newcrest Adventures, a bit more from Doctor Wheatley! Which is probably a bit ironic given that, as of this writing, I’m sick with a cold. Doubly ironic? Wheatley got sick at work too! From what I understand, this is not uncommon in hospitals, but you think the Sim ones would have free medicine on-hand to combat this in their employees! Then again, this one only has four, and only Wheatley really does anything, so. . .

Anyway, he had a fairly decent day at work -- more examining patients, mostly. Finally got a chance to properly use that X-Ray machine, which was nice. I also used the wonders of the Moodlet Solver potion for the first time while he was there to bolster his flagging needs. (Thanks The Sim Supply! He used it in one of his Parenthood LP videos -- you should go watch that, it’s funny.) VERY useful and I’m likely to keep buying it for my Sims, particularly the ones in active careers. Too bad it doesn’t automatically cure sickness too. . .ah well, he can afford medicine on his paycheck.

However, there’s one thing he did at work that he couldn’t blame on being ill. . .

[masoomahussainiist-blog]

2807QCA Task 05 Portfolio - The Set Studio Set Up I created the brick wall with carboard, I cut horizontal and straight lines throught the carboard to create that brick effect. The white door was also cut out from the cardboard box and I had specifically painted it white. The door doesn't really look as realistic as the wall. There is another carboard cut out to be placed underneath the wall that represents the ground. There was one carboard that had a circle cut out in the middle. So I was curious to see what would happen if i put it in front of the light. The result was pretty cool and made a massive difference to the image. It created more of a moody effect and environment to the image. After changing the lighting completly, I changed my idea as well. This time I decided to go for a rustic kind of back of the alley look. The lighting reminded me of those areas of town. Settings; Studio Light: 8.0 ISO: 1600 Shutter Speed: 1/8 Apeture: 5.6 Focal Length: 47.00 mm

[photomaniacs]

How to Get Into an Elite Photography MFA Program http://ift.tt/2h0DecZ

Over the past two years, I’ve looked for guides and made lots of phone calls to faculty, alumni, and current students to find ways to increase the likelihood of being accepted into a top tier MFA program.

Be it Yale, Hartford, RISD, Columbia, Bard — all of these programs have slightly different expectations, but there are consistencies between them as far as your application process goes. After two years of prepping, I’ve been accepted into a program, and I’ve kept careful notes so I could make a guide to help other people looking to apply for an MFA.

This article won’t focus on your art because that’s not something I can give any real advice on. But rather, this will focus on the application process starting up to two years before you even apply. I will show you the strategy I employed over the past two years to be accepted into the one and only school that I applied for.

I’ve broken everything down into twenty simple (but not obvious) steps to follow to greatly increase your chances. I’ve also included links to my actual application essay, the portfolio I submitted, my notes from my interview and various phone calls, and links to all of the resources I used.

As mentioned, this is broken down into twenty points in seven chapters. We’ll look at: (1) what you can do two years before applying, (2) one year before applying, (3) maximizing your recommendations, (4) how to navigate your essay, (5) making phone calls, (6) organizing your portfolio, and finally (7) handling your interview.

Chapter 1: Two Years Before Applying

I started strategizing two years before actually applying for a school. While you may do so sooner or later, it’s probably a good idea to give yourself time. Getting into a good school is more about just your work, but also showing your face in the art community. Giving yourself a reasonable amount of time (2 years) is a good start.

If you’re coming out of undergraduate, even better, as it’s good to have time away from school in “real life,” navigating your work alone before going back to school.

I’ve been told by various instructors that your late twenties or early thirties is the best time to pursue your MFA. Young twenties can still get into these programs, but usually, it’s not preferred.

Point 1: Brush Up on Your History

You’re going to need to know your photo history if you intend to be in a good program, period. While it’s probably not expected that you’re at the art-historian level, you should probably know all the major artists and movements in the art world.

For me: two years ago I bought a few text books on photography and general art history and read 15-20 minutes a night, making careful notes. Do the same, and take this seriously.

You’re going to be embarrassed if that the interview you’re asked to talk about your favorite movements in photography and you can only name one.

Resource: Here are my complete notes to American Photography: A Critical History. I found this to be an excellent crash course. This Google Doc are my 26 pages of notes from the book. Enjoy!

Point 2: Prime your Mentors

Eventually, you’re going to have to ask your mentors for a recommendation. It doesn’t make sense to ask them out of the blue, though. Two years before applying to my MFA, I asked my mentor Brian Ulrich to give me pointers on my work so that it’d have a chance on getting into an MFA program. I also asked him for recommendations on what grad schools were worth their salt. (He ended up recommending the school I applied and was accepted to.)

Asking ahead of time allows your mentors to give critical feedback on your work that you need to implement to increase your chances to be accepted. It also “primes” them that you’ll eventually ask for a recommendation. It’s less jarring, and a lot more considerate to approach it this way.

Resource: Here are my complete notes from that critique and school recommendation conversation I had with Brian Ulrich two years ago. (Note: It’s sloppy, but you’ll see what kind of questions I was asking. In point sixteen you’ll see the portfolio I submitted, the images in which corresponds to the critique notes here.)

Point 3: Long Term Project

Most programs want to see you investigate a long term project, rather than a disparate collection of images. If you don’t have a long-term body of work underway, start now. You’ll need it in two years when you apply for school. Resist the urge to work on many different projects at once. One, maybe two, is what you should be aiming for.

Nearly every school wanted a long term project as part — if not the only focus — of your submitted portfolio. Plan ahead.

Point 4: Exhibit Your Work

You’ve got two years to have something more on your CV than just your undergraduate program. It doesn’t matter how small the exhibition/zine/interview is, but get some lines in there. The reason? It shows that you’re integrating yourself into the arts community. This is an area that I fell short on and immediately began to start fixing two years ago knowing I’d apply to a program.

Chapter 2: One Year Before Applying

Moving on to one year before you intend to apply for school.

Point 5: Update Your Website

You need a good website when applying to schools. People will check your email signature, see your website, and view it. This includes faculty, current students, and alumni. You are representing not just yourself, but the school. Make sure your website is up to snuff. Don’t skimp on this. Squarespace is a good place to start. Look at the website of artists you look up to and construct your website based on what you see.

In fact, I blatantly copied Bryan Schutmaat‘s website to create mine.

Point 6: Attend Shows, Workshops

If you don’t already know: the art world for contemporary fine art photography is very, very small. Everyone knows each other. I attended a workshop with Jason Fulford at Apeture. Was it a pain to get to New York for it? Yes. Was it expensive? Yes. But I learned a lot, and guess what? His name actually came up during my faculty interview and I had a lot to talk about.

Make your life easy. Go to workshops and shows. Ideally, workshops, because you actually interact with the artists and get to know them. Shows are a close second, assuming you actually start conversations with people.

Point 7: Go to the MFA Thesis for the School!

Every program you’re applying to has a large end of the year thesis show. If you’re considering the school, you must attend this show.

This does two important things:

1. It shows you the work coming out of that program and gives you a good idea if you would get anything out of the school by attending yourself. Seriously. Your work is going to be largely influenced by the other students there. This will tell you a lot.

2. It connects your name with your face. Your ultimate goal with this long-term approach to applying for school is to reinforce who you are so when the faculty sees your application they instantly connect it with you, not a faceless name.

Obviously attending these shows are great for a lot more reasons… but for the purposes of applying to school, this is enough.

Chapter 3: Getting Recommendations

Now we’ll cover getting your recommendations for the program.

Point 8: Formal Requests

Two years ago you talked to your mentors about going to school. Time has flown by. Now it’s time to ask your mentors for a formal recommendation. The key word here: formal. I made a huge mistake asking for a request from a professor I hadn’t talked to in years, over Facebook Messenger… Luckily I realized what I did before he had a chance to respond, and quickly apologized. This may be one of the most embarrassing moments of my professional career.

Don’t make this mistake. There’s a lot on the line for a recommendation. You’re carrying their reputation with you, so treat it with the utmost respect. Here’s the process I followed with the other professors I contacted to write a recommendation:

Contacted mentor by phone to ask for recommendation.

Follow up immediately after thanking mentor formally, and including link to current work, artists statement, CV, and any information that will make their life easier. Include instructions of where to send recommendation.

Write mentor a week before the deadline to remind them, re-thank them, and provide instructions again on where to send

recommendation.

Write mentor after they submit the recommendation to thank them, again.

If possible, find them in person and thank them.

I thanked both of my mentors in real life and didn’t stop at just sending an email.

Chapter 4: How to Write Your Essay

There is a lot of weight on your essay. A lot. Your work is history but your essay is very much alive. This is where you get to speak with the faculty directly. I know at Hartford, the essay is weighted in the application process very heavily. I’m sure this is true for Yale, RISD, and other top tier programs.

“What do you look for in applicants? — The most important thing is the letter of intent.” —Robert Lyons, Hartford MFA Director

Point 9: Reinforce What You Bring to the Table

One of the big mistakes I did with my application essay was being too hard on myself with my first draft. Your goal with the essay, after all, is to get the faculty excited about you. Sure, you have things to learn. Sure, you want to improve. And you want that authenticity to come across, but you also want to reinforce to them what positives you bring.

From their perspective, they are looking for a student who will carry the torch of their school and reputation. Someone who will bring fresh ideas to the cohort of new students. Someone who is open to learning, but has something to teach. Make sure that comes across in your essay.

Point 10: Why get an MFA?

Everyone I spoke to — Brian Ulrich, Robert Lyons, Richie Lipscher (previous digital animation head of MICA) — all advised me the same thing: your essay should clearly express why you want an MFA. It’s an insidiously tough question to answer — at least until you really sit down and dig deep. Sure, there are surface reasons, but what’s at the core?

What was interesting is that the recommendations I got from Ulrich and Lyons were nearly at odds with each other. Make sure you talk to the director of your program (point thirteen, coming up) to get a sense of what they expect. Yes, you want this to come from you, but there are a lot of sides to you, and only a meager 1 page to write about it. Tailor your essay based on expectations.

Point 11: Check a Million Times

After you read your essay, read it again, then again, then again. Most importantly: sit on it. A week or two of not looking at it is a good amount of time. After you go away from it that long, you’ll come to the table with fresh new perspectives that have been percolating. You’ll remove things that looked great at the time but add nothing on a fresh gaze.

Most importantly, have your mentors give it a quick glance when you’re satisfied with it. A lot rides on this essay. Make sure it truly represents you.

Point 12: What I Wrote

Here, I’ll be sharing my essay with you. This will give you a sense of what things were important to me, and maybe provide you with some ideas on how to structure your own essay. Keep in mind (obviously) that appropriating my content probably won’t be a good idea. These faculty, especially at good programs, sniff through bulls**t all day. You want to be absolutely authentic with your writing.

Don’t write what they want to hear — write what you need to say.

Resource: Here is my full application essay to the Hartford MFA program.

Chapter 5: Prepping your Application

Sending the application isn’t enough, you need to reach out to the school’s community ahead of time. Here’s how I approached this.

Point 13: Contact the Director

A few months before you apply, you need to reach out to the director of the program personally. Email them requesting a phone conversation. The goals here are: (1) Get answers to questions you have about the program. (2) Get a sense of how to best maximize your application to the school. (3) Get the director to recognize your name. (4) Get the name of students to contact about the program — more on this in the next point.

This step is very important. Make sure before you call you have a list of questions. Calling the director ahead of time is an important step: it shows you’re serious about pursuing this path.

Resource: Here are my written notes from the phone conversation with Robert Lyons, director at the Hartford MFA. It’s not pretty but gives you an idea of what I was thinking about.

Point 14: Contacting the Students

If things went well on the phone call, you should have a list of alumni to contact. Now you need to contact them.

You want to learn about their experience of the school. You want to find out any tips to prepare for classes to start. You want to avoid common pitfalls. Most importantly, you want to learn what they got out of the program after they graduated.

Here’s why this is so critical: you will be asked why you think the program is right for you at your interview with the faculty. If you speak with students, you can literally tell them that. You can explain how you spent considerable time researching the program, and you know exactly why and how it will benefit you, referencing the students you talked to and what they got from the program and how it relates to what you expect.

It’s a deadly 1-2 combo.

What was even more exciting that I found out after a conversation with one of the student is often the director will reach out to the students that he gave you the names of to see if you followed up, and what their opinion of you was.

Could you imagine calling the director, getting a list of names (and taking the time of the program director), only to not call the students and then have the director find out about it?

Don’t put yourself in that situation — and 100% frank here — if you’re not interested enough to contact those students to learn about the program you really shouldn’t be applying for an MFA anyway.

Still, sometimes you get busy. Don’t let yourself get busy here.

Point 15: Contact the Faculty

Follow up questions, pack them in an email and send them to one or two of the faculty. Be respectful. There’s no reason to call them or write them all. Keep it brief, contacting one faculty member with an email a month or two before you submit the application is enough.

You don’t want to “shout” by writing the program too often or too long. Keep things professional, and brief. Respect their time. Still, (and I’ll mention again) writing one email to a faculty member with one or two follow up questions is fine.

Chapter 6: Your portfolio

Now it’s time to send your work to the school. Here’s what I learned through my own process.

Point 16: 1-2 Bodies of Work

I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s important. Don’t send multiple bodies of work. Send primarily one, and maybe a second. You want to show the faculty that you can explore an idea over a long period of time. Investigate.

Personally, I chose to show 5 images from an older body of work (to show them some highlights) and 20 images from a newer body of work that I have been working on for the last 3-4 years (to show an investigation.)

Resource: Here is my actual portfolio PDF that I sent in with my MFA application.

Point 17: Concise Statement

If your application requires an artist statement, here’s some advice I’ve come across from educators:

Keep it concise.

Avoid “art speak” – you know what I’m talking about.

Avoid the word “juxtaposition” – AKA, aforementioned art speak.

Avoid layering abstraction upon abstraction. Write simply and genuinely about your work.

Focus less on why you started your project, and more about what your work actually says.

Resource: Buy this book and read it before you ever touch another artist statement. It’s actually required reading at Hartford.

Chapter 7: The Interview

At this point, your application and portfolio have won you an interview with the faculty. It won’t be easy. You’ll be nervous. You’ll doubt yourself until you hear back weeks later about a final decision — but we all go through it. Here are three tips:

Point 18: Be Candid

You’re going to be asked questions you don’t know the answer to. Be candid in your responses. They know you’re there to learn, so there’s no reason to hide that fact.

I know I was personally asked about what I saw in my work, and frankly, I gave a terrible “art speak” answer that really was answering why I started making the work, not what I saw in it. I couldn’t recover and just was honest by explaining that I hope to attend the program to better understand my own work – rather than come up with some BS on the spot answer that I obviously didn’t have.

Yeah, I was worried, but I think I’d be more worried if I tried to bulls**t the faculty with even more art speak.

Point 19: Have Specific Questions

The worst thing you can do at a job interview is waiting until the end and have no questions for the employer. It shows them that you’re not thinking critically about the job. It’s the same here.

Make sure you go into that interview with a notebook, pen, and a list of questions written down that you have. Don’t settle with one or two. More likely than not, they’ll tell you more about the program and answer some of the questions you have written down.

Point 20: Take Risks

Show some courage. In my interview, I asked — effectively — for a critique. I wanted to know what I could work on, assuming they denied me entrance into the school. I wanted their knowledge, their perspective, and their thoughts on my work. And… they denied my question.

But, I asked. I showed them that I truly care about my work. That I want to improve. I showed some risk and dedication. Interestingly enough, they did give me a few things to do and consider: namely to write about more art and to visit the print viewing room at the Princeton Art Museum (which is exceptional, by the way) which I’ve been doing every week.

You’ve Done It

Hopefully, you’ve gotten accepted into your program of choice, and if not you’ve gained some insights into your own working practice. With my application, I made sure why to state not just why I wanted to attend, but why this was the right time in my life to attend.

Consider that when you apply. You may be destined to get your MFA, but the time might not be right. One school or two is enough. And tell them that. I was very bold in telling Hartford they are my own school I have in mind and why.

With all that said, best of luck on your journey!

About the author: Marc Falzon is a photographer who’s currently in the photography MFA program at the University of Hartford. The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author. Falzon is the man behind the YouTube channel Analog Process. You can visit his website here. This article was also published here.

Go to Source Author: Marc Falzon If you’d like us to remove any content please send us a message here CHECK OUT THE TOP SELLING CAMERAS!

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July 25, 2017 at 08:00PM