#robert withers

[tomafome]

Meredith Monk and Robert Withers, 16 Millimeter Earrings, 1966/1977. 16 mm, color/black and white, sound, 25 minutes.

The film version of 16 Millimeter Earrings by Robert Withers documents a 1977 reconstruction of the original performance. While Withers’ filmic interpretation rearranges Monk’s soundtrack, thus creating a different juxtaposition of sound and image from the original, it nevertheless captures the essence of this pivotal work — a prototype for interdisciplinary art. ↘︎ https://meredithmonk.org/repertory/16-millimeter-earrings/

[from1837to1945]

Despite the fact, that Mrs. Inez Withers of Los Angeles was testifying in a Los Angeles Court, in a effort to obtain a divorce, she did not propose to have anyone slander her husband, as became clear when she testified that he was a "great actor" and remarkably capable and talented. Granville Withers, the subject of Mrs. Withers' remarkable paradoxial testimony, is a film player and, according to his wife's testimony, is suffucuently successful to make $400 a week. The photo shows Mrs. Withers, who seems to be her husband's ardent admirer despite her divorce suit.

-Dec 21, 1925.

Actor Withers' loses second wife and sued by first.

Grant Withers, the "Happiest man alive" only yesterday after completion of his aerial elopement to Yuma, Arizona with Loretta Young wasn't even making a pretense of happiness today. The mother of bride number two has started proceedings for an annulment and wife number one prepares suit for alimoney to support herself and sick son of the actor. She wants an increase of 240.00 per month. Withers also figured in a traffic accident the night of his second marriage resulting in the injury of four (? ?) youths.

This photo shows Mrs. Inez Withers & son, Robert Granville.

-Jan 27, 1930.

[astro-naut9]

Sharing my art pieces for the @scenariosmpzine !! 1

This was in collaboration with @astronautbeans ! She's cool yall!! Check her pieces out as well!

2

MY FAVOURITE SCENARIO!!!!!! RAHHHHHHH

anyways, go visit @scenariosmpzine to see everyone else's works!

[thursdaymurderbub]

Silver Screen magazine, March 1938

[strryhaze]

today means amen, sierra demulder / blkgod9 on twitter / macbeth, shakespeare / moon song, phoebe bridgers / tomorrowwillbeyou on tumblr .

the audrey hepburn & george peppard photo from breakfast at tiffany’s included in this well yes! there is bobbyjackie everywhere for those with eyes to see

[everpresence]

Whenever you are trying to rid yourself of a dilemma, make sure that you do not concentrate your attention upon it instead. This acts to cut out other data, and to further intensify your focus upon your difficulty. When you break that focus the problem is solved.

Seth (channeled by Jane Roberts), The Nature of Personal Reality

[letterboxd-loggd]

Pink String and Sealing Wax (1945) Robert Hamer

October 19th 2024

[izztreme-art-n-stuff]

I have drawn...everything I have for this rewrite! Well...almost everything. I'm just gonna list everything I have here.

The toons don't come out to the real world at any point, at least as they do in the original, they stay in the mind and have to takeover Jimmy's body to interact with the world. This is purely a drawing thing. Robin and Craig are no longer siblings, and they switched races inbetween the TV movie and live-action series, so I went down the middle with Robin being African American and Craig being Asian. Robin is a psychic. Craig is now the one who has a bunch of weird pets and is a Friend to All Living Thing. Yancy is still an alien, but changed up her look and personality. Ken, Jimmy's dad, is no longer a bumbling idiot and neglectful father, and is now a local stuntman who deeply cares about his kids no matter how weird they are. And Jimmy's mom is now named Aloe Vera, is a goddess of healing, and protector of the town where they, and people like them, live.

I promise I'll never do something like this again, this took way too long to make and now I'm tired.

Reblogs > Likes

[gatutor]

Googie Withers-Gordon Jackson "Pink string and sealing wax" 1945, de Robert Hamer.

[streamondemand]

'It Always Rains on Sunday' – the Brit noir landmark free on Kanopy

Working class realism meets British crime drama in It Always Rains on Sunday (1947), Robert Hamer’s landmark classic. Rose Sandigate (Googie Withers) has resigned herself to a marriage with an older widower (Edward Chapman) with two grown daughters and a schoolboy son when her past comes crashing in. Escaped convict Tommy Swann (John McCallum), once her lover, hides out in her cramped home while…

[boxcarwild]

One of Our Aircraft Is Missing is a 1942 British war film, mainly set in the German-occupied Netherlands. It was the fourth collaboration between the British writer-director-producer team of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger.

On its way back from a raid on the city of Stuttgart, a British bomber is shot down over Nazi-held Holland. Parachuting into Dutch farmlands under cover of darkness, the six-member crew connects with members of the local resistance, who shelter the Brits from their Nazi inquisitors as they make their way towards freedom.

The film stars Eric Portman, Bernard Miles, Googie Withers, Pamela Brown, Peter Ustinov (in his film debut), Alec Clunes, Hay Petrie, Robert Helpmann, Hugh Williams and Godfrey Tearle.

[webweabings]

IN THE BEGINNING, THERE WAS ONLY THE OCEAN

“Accepting the Universe” (1920), by John Burroughs; // “Literary Paper” (1855), by Edward Forbes; // “A Thousand Flamingos” by Sanober Khan; // Sylvia Earle; // “Wither” (The Chemical Garden Trilogy), by Lauren DeStefano; // “The Immense Journey” ch. The Flow of the River (1957), by Loren Eiseley; // Jacques-Yves Cousteau; // Heinrich Zimmer; // “Pictures from Brueghel and Other Poems” (1962), by William Carlos Williams; // “Sandry’s Book” (Circle of Magic Quartet), by Tamora Pierce; // “The Sea”, by Barry Cornwall (Bryan Waller Procter); // Speech at the America’s Cup Dinner (1962), by John F. Kennedy; // Jacques-Yves Cousteau; // Erica Billups; // Robert Wyland; // “Eragon” (The Inheritance Cycle Tetralogy), by Christopher Paolini; // Christy Ann Martine; // Robert Wyland; // “Le testament d'Orphée” (1960), by Jean Cocteau; // Speech at the America’s Cup Dinner (1962), by John F. Kennedy; // “The Infinite Moment of Us”, by Lauren Myracle; // “American Fantastic Tales: Terror and the Uncanny from Poe to the Pulps”, by Julian Hawthorne

[astro-naut9]

Something I randomly thought of skulck-Robert and withered-Shadow

ngl anon i actually thought of Taivas and Verin instead when u mentioned Sculk and Wither LMAO

[gayestbinnie]

i wanna suck him So Dry that his body flattens completely like a empty gogurt tube

[geopsych]

It's that time again, time for the late November poem of all time. It really is like this here now.

Reluctance Out through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and descended; I have come by the highway home, And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground, Save those that the oak is keeping To ravel them one by one And let them go scraping and creeping Out over the crusted snow, When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still, No longer blown hither and thither; The last lone aster is gone; The flowers of the witch hazel wither; The heart is still aching to seek, But the feet question ‘Whither?’

Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason To go with the drift of things, To yield with a grace to reason, And bow and accept the end Of a love or a season. —Robert Frost

[bumblesimagines]

i care about you. more than i'd like to admit.

Daenerys Targaryen

i care about you. more than i'd like to admit.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

doesn't really follow canon, Dany doesn't marry Hizdahr

Part of him had expected to be executed right then and there in the fighting pit, after all, he'd thrown a spear in the direction of the Targaryen and nearly impaled one of her knights. His victory in the pits had been shortlived afterward, with a swift order to throw him in the dungeons for an 'attempted assassination' where he'd be thoroughly questioned. A few hours had seemingly passed since then, and he kept himself busy by napping against the rough stone walls and hearing the groans and moans of fellow prisoners. The door at the end of the corridor opened with a loud whine and his eyes parted, hearing heavy footsteps walking right toward his cell. 

"Are you certain he is who you say?" A woman's voice asked, light and youthful. The Targaryen, perhaps, or possibly the advisor girl who trailed after her everywhere. He hardly cared about Meereen's newest ruler, much less had time to learn anything about her and her people.

"Yes, Your Grace. My eyes have yet to deceive me." A man answered, his voice lower in pitch and withered by age. The knight he'd almost killed, no doubt. (Y/N) almost snorted. He must've bruised an ego or two by accident. 

"Very well." The woman responded and the dimly lit corridor brightened with the light of a torch. The man holding it appeared to indeed be the knight if the scowl on his face said anything. (Y/N) hummed and shifted slightly to face the newcomers, his eyes trailing from the knight to the young woman standing beside him. Her long silver hair cascaded down her shoulders partly pulled back into braids and framing her oval face. The ends of her dress had grown stained from the walk through the corridor, the light blue now a dark shade of brown, but she hardly seemed to mind or notice. 

"Will I be killed by fire or eaten by one of your... 'children'? I always wondered how that'd feel like. Horrible, probably, but at least it beats drinking yourself to death, aye, Gaz?" The prisoner across from his cell made a low grunt of acknowledgment, uttering a frail curse directed at him. (Y/N) grinned and the knight's eyes narrowed further.

"You are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the-" 

"Queen of Meereen would've done fine, Ser. Don't waste your breath on the rest." (Y/N)'s interruption only seemed to fuel the knight's irritation further and he opened his mouth again, likely to bestow some sort of lecture upon him before Daenerys Stormborn raised her hand to silence him, casting a thankful look over her shoulder at him and stepping closer to the cell. 

"Do you have a problem with my titles?"

"You rule Meereen, no? You should, uh, shorten it to Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of Mereen, the Mother of Dragons, and the rest of it. You are not Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Daenerys Stormborn. House Baratheon sits on the throne, though last I heard, those fools were fighting each other."

"And from what I've been told, those fools were your brothers. I'm sorry for your losses, I know what it is like to lose two brothers." Daenerys hardly sounded apologetic, although he hardly blamed her. His brothers, especially Robert, were difficult to like. "But if rumors are to be believed and if your last brother, Stannis, falls as well... it will make you Lord of Storm's End." 

"And those who believe the rumors about Robert's wife believe you are the next in line for the throne. Yet, here you are, fightin' in pits like an animal and sittin' in dungeons. What happened to you, boy? Everyone's been searchin' for you." (Y/N) tore his eyes away from them and stared at the wall in front of him, his lips twisting and jaw clenching. He'd been the last born, the last son of Lord Steffon and Lady Cassana Baratheon. He wondered what they would've thought of the messes their sons had created for themselves. Two were dead, the other lost his mind, and the last one fled home before a marriage could've been thrusted upon him.

" I suppose I am already Lord of Storm's End, seeing as Stannis believes himself to be King. If you have come here to ask for my support, you will be disappointed, however. You can hardly rule Meereen. How will you rule the Seven Kingdoms? You've been away from court for years, Daenerys Stormborn. You have no right to the throne unless you take it as my brother did, and even then, those who survived King Aerys will fear having another Targaryen as ruler. You will have to work harder than Robert to win the trust and loyalty of any noble." 

"Sounds as if you know quite a lot about ruling. I am in need of another advisor, Lord Baratheon. Perhaps, you could fill that role."

Daenerys's room had the best view in Meereen with its large balcony showing the large expense of the city and the breeze that flowed in, keeping the room cool even on the worst days when the sun shone down on them relentlessly. (Y/N) enjoyed the view, and especially enjoyed the breeze, although he hardly had reason to leave the Great Pyramid after having been ordered to remain inside unless accompanied by a loyal servant of Daenerys. At least her distrust in him had lessened tremendously over time.

"(Y/N)," Daenerys sighed, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder and opening those dazzling eyes of hers to peer up at him. "Tell me more of Storm's End." She said softly, her fingers trailing down his arm until she found his hand, intertwining their fingers together. (Y/N) chuckled, resting his chin atop her head and feeling her silver strands tickle his skin.

"Well, as the tale goes, the Storm Kings ruled the Stormlands for millennia until Aegon's Conquest when he sent his commander, Orys Baratheon, to battle with the last Storm King. Orys won the battle and took the late Storm King's daughter as his bride thus becoming Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Since then, Storm's End has been ruled by House Baratheon." (Y/N) recounted the history that'd been engrained into his head from the moment he could understand language. Baratheons had always been proud of their history, of their ancient lineage. He tilted his head, lips brushing over her hair and pressed against her forehead. Daenerys smiled. "Why are you interested in Storm's End, Dany?"

"Because..." She trailed off, eyes flickering away briefly. She moved slightly, peeling away from his side to instead straddle his lap, her bare chest pressing against his. "Because I care about you. More than I'd like to admit. You are not the man I thought you'd be. You are... incredibly vexing and arrogant but you are intelligent and a just man. I have been... thinking... about what was said that night in the dungeons. Ser Barriston is right, as are you. I have much to learn, but I believe with you at my side, we could rule the Seven Kingdoms together."

"Dany-"

"I know you care about me, too. I know Kings Landing will accept you as their king and any other children we have will rule over Storm's End, just as your family has all these years. I spoke with Ser Barriston, I asked for his advice and he gave his approval. We could wed, whether in Targaryen custom or Baratheon, and rule the Seven Kingdoms."

"Wait, wait," (Y/N) exhaled, sitting up further and delicately cupping her face in his hands. "Any other children?" Her features softened, her lips forming a gleeful smile. She leaned back, away from him, and peered down at herself, her hand coming to lovingly rest on her belly. 

"Missandei and I believe I am with child, (Y/N)."