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shaftal · 2 years ago

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Prompt 42 (Seasonal): NYRs/Yuletide

Tomorrow is the beginning of the fandom nomination period for Yuletide 2022!*

Some things you could do for this prompt:

1: Are you planning to nominate Elemental Logic for Yuletide? Reply to this post with the characters you commit to nominating, so that we can get all the characters that interest us onto the list and don’t overlap unnecessarily. (Doing this WILL be counted towards your A Year In Shaftal contribution 😉)

2: The New Year’s Resolution collection remains open until October 14 (the start of Yuletide signups)--why not warm up for Yuletide by writing something for someone who requested Elemental Logic in a previous year of the exchange? I have included the requests I could find under the cut.

*Yuletide is a well-established multi-fandom fanfiction gift exchange for small fandoms, and is the source of a significant portion of the Elemental Logic works on ao3

2021:

amyezekiel I love the 'found family' themes throughout these books and would welcome more of that! Any characters

Eccentric_Hat I started reading these books because of Medric: a mostly unrelated fandom got me interested in clairvoyants, and now they're something I actively seek out. I thought he didn't show up until book 2 and was absurdly jazzed when, in the middle of book 1, Zanja found herself crashed on the bedroom floor of (I think this is the description) "a bespectacled book-hauling boy with a blue ribbon in his hair." Since then, the moments when these two characters interact have been among my favorites in the series. I love the way they trade questions back and forth when talking in fire logic to each other, the offhanded way she (like most of their family) cares for Medric and reminds him to put his glasses on, and the way he kind of wanders through their family life making himself at home while saying things people don't understand--and all of that is the surface level of a relationship built on enormous trust, intimacy, sorrow, and responsibility. Nobody but Zanja understands what she has lost, but I think Medric might come the closest to understanding her conviction of her own guilt--even while he prefers to play his own sorrows close to the chest a lot of the time. (There's mention, I think at the start of book 2, that he doesn't drink alcohol, coffee, or tea or consume sugar because those things would interfere with his visions, and much later there's an offhand comment that the Sainnites remember him as a drunk. Oof.) I would love to see more interaction between these two, whether it's an adventure, a card reading, or something as simple as a shared meal. I adore the whole family of which they're part--it makes me especially happy how, at the series midpoint, they start referring to their lovers as husband or wife, without apparently having done anything to formalize that status--and any and all members of that family and their friends are welcome to make an appearance. DNWs: sexual violence, and in general, violence exceeding canon levels--I know these characters have been through the war, I just don't need close descriptions of specific injuries. Medric (Elemental Logic), Zanja na'Tarwein

Lleu I love so many things about these books. the way gay love is so central and important. the movement from stasis and stagnation into change and possibility. I'm also obsessed with the elemental logics themselves — I would love something that explores the experience of fire logic in more detail (either Emil's insight or Medric's visions) from the inside. I also love fictional literature, and I would LOVE something that explores Shaftali literature, storytelling, glyph-writing, and similar. Letter with more details Emil Paladin, Medric (Elemental Logic)

@grimdr

spiritinthespacebar I nominated this series because it is criminally underrated, while being among the best queer fiction in print. I can’t say enough about the delicacy and originality of the magic system. I love the complexity of our heroines, and the practical, steadfast way they work for a long-awaited peace. I finished Air Logic the week before signups and I cannot stop thinking about Shaftal. Suggested prompts: I’d like a story about Zanja and Karis helping each other with a difficult problem, which could be set any time after the end of Fire Logic. I didn’t request any other characters, but I also nominated Clement and Seth--if you have read Earth Logic and like them as much as I do, you are welcome to give them large supporting roles. I’m also happy to see Zanja and Karis’s whole family in small supporting roles. Maybe Zanja must represent the interests of some Border People to Shaftal, but their needs are very different from the Ashawala’i? Maybe Karis must resolve the situation with the Basdown cow dogs? Maybe a natural disaster strikes somewhere? Global preferences: Letter with more details Zanja na'Tarwein, Karis G'deon

@spiritintheinkwell, i.e. the mod

2018:

Assimbya Zanja na'Tarwein I love Zanja very, very, very much. I love her magic and her religious faith; her tendency towards self-sacrifice and her storytelling; I love her romance with Karis and her friendship with Emil; I love her as a survivor of torture and genocide, who has lost everything she once had but keeps her faith and her sense of purpose, even when she is hallucinating or despairing. I would be delighted with a story that explored almost any part of her life (caveat because I'm not that interested in further extrapolations of the period of Water Logic), and especially one which involved some degree of Zanja/Karis, whose romance I adore. Maybe something about Zanja's recovery early on in Fire Logic, or taking place in the gap between Fire Logic and Earth Logic? Or something focusing on her religious faith? I would love to see Zanja and Karis working out the rough spaces and their relationship and learning how to be meaningfully supportive partners to one another, or something about Zanja on her own, fighting injustice or making meaning inside her own head. Letter: http://chthonic-cassandra.tumblr.com/post/179261839065/yuletide-letter-2018

@chthonic-cassandra

ofunaq Any characters I love these books, and the beautifully evocative landscape of love, relationships and chosen family. Anything you could write for these would make me very, very happy. If you'd like a suggestion, maybe Emil and Medric could go away on a camping holiday... I don't have any significant squicks or DNWs. In general, I like stories in which people are kind and thoughtful (although that doesn't necessarily preclude stories on a knife-edge of control, consent and sexual discovery...), and are unashamedly themselves.

schneefink Emil Paladin, Medric (Elemental Logic) My two favorite relationships in this series are Medric/Emil and the whole family together. I would for example love fic about Medric pre- and/or during book 1, and/or the development of his relationship with Emil, or fic about Medric, Emil, and their whole family settling down for the first time and/or having adventures, or Garland taking care of the family. See my letter for more details. DNW: very dark/hopeless stories, explicit rape/abuse, character bashing, PWP Letter: http://schneefink.dreamwidth.org/245397.html

thereinafter Karis G'deon, Zanja na'Tarwein I fell pretty hard for these books, especially Fire Logic, about which I love so many things; I feel like Marks has some kind of direct connection to my personal id. All the circumstances of the way they meet with Karis breaking Zanja out of the prison, all the h/c, all the pining and angst, all their rescuing of each other, Karis’s eventual healing of herself and rediscovery of feeling, give me an absurd amount of feelings. I also love how the books are overall about the struggle to establish and hold a peace more than fighting a war, and the fact that Karis uses her amazonian strength to be a healer and creator/fixer of things while Zanja is the fighter, and all the other opposing elemental/mystical traits that mean they are often baffled by each other.To sum up, I very much love them as a ship and would like a story focused on the two of them (Emil and Medric are fine characters, but I’d rather not focus on the whole group family; that said, if you write something that needs secondary characters, I’m fond of Norina and Clement and Seth and Garland too, and I love the ravens). Prompt suggestions: The two of them keep getting separated and almost dying or symbolically dying and then reuniting/bringing each other back. Which does work for me every time, so if you want to write something plotty that continues that pattern, I would be here for it. We’re told Karis loses her powers over water and thus avoids it, but we don’t ever see much of that; what would it be like if she had to sail somewhere? (I could see this going in a light funny or fraught angsty direction.) I’m intrigued by the implications of Karis sensing what happens to objects she forges, as with Zanja’s knife. A little mission/case they decide to handle together? There must be a lot of problems around Shaftal to fix still. Letter: http://thereinafter.tumblr.com/post/179120480605/im-signing-up-for-the-yuletide-fic-exchange-this

@thereinafter

2017:

ofunaq Medric (Elemental Logic), Karis G'deon, Zanja na'Tarwein The characters in the Elemental Logic books have a warmth and an intensity that I find compelling, and the matter-of-fact and inclusive approach to gender, sexuality and chosen family is so refreshing and validating. But the thing that really hooked me, was the riveting, visceral description of sensations, that made touch and taste and textures come alive. Maybe an adventure story for Zanja from before she meet Karis? Or someone (Medric?) develops a giant crush on Karis, and tries to hide it, with comedic results? Whatever you write would be great: I'd be so happy to read a new story in this world.

schneefink Medric (Elemental Logic), Zanja na'Tarwein, Emil Paladin My two favorite relationships in this series are Medric/Emil and the whole family together (closely followed by Emil&Zanja and Zanja/Karis), and I would love a fic with some of both. I would love fic about Medric pre- and/or during book 1. In canon he only has very vague visions of Emil and his future family, but feel free to expand on that a little and give him more if you want. Or fic about Medric, Emil, and their whole family settling down for the first time. It would take some time for all of them to become comfortable living together, to grow from pairs and friends into a family who all love each other. I also like Garland the cook a lot, especially him taking care of the family and in particular Medric and Emil. Letter: http://schneefink.dreamwidth.org/210265.html

2016:

madamebadger Zanja na'Tarwein, Karis G'deon I would love a Karis/Zanja pairing fic. I'd be happy to see it set any time they're together, although I'd prefer to not see it set sometime that they've been forcibly separated. Perhaps something set in the long period of time between Fire Logic and Earth Logic, when their household is at relative peace (even though Shaftal is anything but 'at peace')? Or during some downtime in Travesty, sometime during Earth Logic and/or Water Logic? Or even after Water Logic. Some things I love about them: the way Zanja's intuition and leaps of logic both conflict with and complement Karis's much more stable (and yet, often, equally mystical and mysterious) Earth Logic. Zanja's persistent trauma over the death of her people, and the way that Karis supports her without being able to 'fix' it, because it's fundamentally not something that can (or, maybe, even should) be fixed. Karis's pain over her instinctual drive to heal all wounds and her inability to do so, and the way Zanja in turn supports her. Or, for something less angsty--I'd be delighted with something fluffy and domestic, too, since so much of the series is about the importance of *building* instead of simply destroying, and many of the scenes that I love the most are small moments in the household--whether it's the household they kept in between Fire Logic and Earth Logic, or something set in Travesty as their household continues to grow. If you're not comfortable writing pairing fic, that's fine too--I'd be happy with anything centered on these two characters. I would prefer not to have them explicitly split up, though, even if their relationship isn't the focus of the story. I love basically all the characters, and if you'd like to bring in anyone else (whether nominated or not) that would be delightful to me, especially members of Karis's household, and Clement and Seth. I have no problem with kidfic, so if you're inclined to bring in the fact that Karis and Zanja are considered to be among Leeba's mothers, that would be perfectly fine with me. I would rather not see canon pairings get split up in general, although simply not mentioning/focusing on them would be fine. Letter: http://madamebadger.tumblr.com/post/151589933484/dear-yuletide-author-elemental-logic-redwall

@madamebadger

ofunaq (Same as 2017)

schneefink Medric (Elemental Logic), Emil Paladin I would love fic about Medric pre- and/or during book 1: growing up a seer in a society that hates elemental bloods, coming to terms with his visions and that he is on the wrong side, visions of his future lover etc. I like his relationship with Emil a lot. Or fic about Medric, Emil, and the others settling down for the first time and becoming a family. I like Zanja and Emil's relationship a lot, and Zanja and Karis, and Norina and J'han, and all of them together. It would take some time for them to learn how to live with each other, and they also had to learn how to raise their daughter. Or fic about Garland taking care of the family, especially Medric and Emil, while they settle into their new roles. Letter: http://schneefink.dreamwidth.org/179994.html

Toft Karis G'deon, Zanja na'Tarwein, Norina Truthken Full disclosure - I've only read the first book and part of the second. I'm planning to have read all three by Christmas, but I would like a story set in the first book or before. I'd really like something about the friendships and relationships between these three women, or between two of them. Norina and Karis have such a complicated relationship; I'd love to see something about them earlier in their friendship, when Karis was still an addict. I really like Norina as a character - she obviously makes misguided choices sometimes but she has such integrity even while she's single-minded, while her 'looking after' Karis was also a kind of imprisonment, it was also built on caring and obviously did keep Karis alive. And Karis' struggle to keep a sense of her own identity through her work is really powerful. So, I'd love to see that expanded. I'd also love something about Zanja and Karis. When did Zanja know she was in love with Karis and vice versa? I was really intrigued by the idea that Zanja can use the sword to communicate with Karis - if you wanted to explore that, when Zanja is working for the resistance, that would be cool. What are the early days like when Karis gets her feeling back? Also I didn't feel like the raven was quite enough of his own character to nominate him, but I LOVE THE RAVEN. If you wanted to write something from the raven's perspective, or about the raven, that'd be awesome.DNWs: I am really squicked by descriptions of pregnancy & danger to pregnant women. I would prefer not to have a story about Norina's pregnancy or where it plays a significant role. Letter: http://toft.dreamwidth.org/782933.html

2015:

unheroics Zanja na'Tarwein, Karis (Elemental Logic) I’m absolutely fascinated by Zanja and her function in the narrative, and by extension I am also absolutely fascinated by Karis. Such an enormous part of the books relies on the foundation of their relationship, which is wonderful and heartbreaking. So in that way, I think I’ve had enough relationship-y stuff in canon, and I’d like to see something that goes deeper into the whole aspect of the Messiah/Prophet archetype they’ve got going. In particular, the recurring theme of agency vs. inevitability of fate: Zanja is a willing prophet of her own making, but can one really consider her choices — well, choices, if she’s more or less submitting to the tidal force of some…vague idea of how things are shaping up to be? She takes her place in the world knowing that it’s part of a grand design, knowing more or less what her compliance and its lack would bring. This is fascinating to me! Dear Yuletide Author Letter: http://csoru.tumblr.com/yuletide

@csoru

Assimbya (Same as 2016)

wintersweet Karis (Elemental Logic), Zanja na'Tarwein I'd love to see Karis and Zanja together. I really don't want to see them hurting each other. Just something pleasant. Sexy is fine, cute is fine, domestic is fine.Thank you! P. S. I love Garland--it'd be extra nifty if he showed up! Dear Yuletide Author Letter http://wintersweet.livejournal.com/1810644.html

sleepfighter Zanja na'Tarwein,Medric (Elemental Logic) I am super in favor of all the fireblooded characters in the book. I want fireblooded insights, and also bonding and family stuff! I think this would be most ideal either between book one and two or book two and three, but you do you.I like Zanja slightly better then Medren, but I love Medren telling stories: do what you will with that. Dear Yuletide Author Letter: http://existence.dreamwidth.org/tag/40+watt+lightbulb+in+the+manger

2013:

nimblermortal I am not going to specify characters, but some things that would make me happy include Gilly and Garland in the same place, and Norina and children. (Air children, yes, but also normal children.) I love kids, but I also think you would be amazing if you could make the air children actually creepy, rather than simply saying they are so as Marks does. Please no romance-centric plots, and please no porn.

@nimblermortal

2012:

egelantier Zanja, Karis, Emil (Elemental Logic Series), Medric All (optional) details in the letter! (Letter has been deleted) Website/Journal/Dear Yuletide Author: http://egelantier.livejournal.com/110371.html

mayhap Zanja, Karis I would love any kind of story about Zanja and Karis, whether that be set sometime after Water Logic or a missing scene from any of the books. You could write straight-up smut (this is pretty much always an option, really, I just wanted to throw it out there), or explore any aspect of the worldbuilding that catches your fancy—I especially love the use of the quotes from invented texts in the books, the glyphs and of course the four elemental magics themselves. I love Emil/Medric and if you volunteered all characters and it makes sense to have them as a background pairing or even a co-pairing in your story, go for it! If anyone is the primary focus, though, I would like it to be Zanja/Karis. Website/Journal/Dear Yuletide Author http://mayhap.dreamwidth.org/229606.html

#a year in shaftal #prompts #elemental logic #fire logic #housekeeping

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botanicials · 4 years ago

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wish this was the full part, but here is a sneak peak of falling in love at a coffee shop. the first few rough paragraphs. coming soon! littles will be posted until then ❣️

falling in love at a coffee shop

i. (sneak peak!)

October 13

The cold NYC wind is forgiving for once, all things considered. You had just spent your evening watching over seven sugar high eight-year-olds that had decided finger painting was the ideal after school activity. It was laborious at times and their parents probably weren’t too pleased, but the kids were happy.

Your phone is warm against your cheek as you walk, owing to the Disney Favorites playlist you were asked to play- and Eloise skipping nearly every song that wasn’t sung by Elsa or Moana. Your mother’s words are insistent in your ear: plane tickets, dinners, graduation details.

“It isn’t for another… what? Four months? We’ll figure it out.”

You hear your mother sigh. “I’d rather plan everything out now, the end of the year brings me enough stress as is.”

“It-“

“And what is it with your graduation ceremony being in January? Such an odd time. I mean, right after the holidays? Don’t they realize we might want a bit of a break?”

You laugh lightly at that, eyes spotting the familiar rusting sign hanging up ahead. “Um, has to do with my hours and the kids’ semester ending. I don’t know. Tickets should be cheaper, they usually are after Christmas.”

“Suppose that’s a positive.”

“Definitely a positive- I’ll call you later, I’m grabbing some food so I can hurry up and get home. There's an apron covered with paint in my bag and I’m convinced it’ll stain everything I have inside.”

You begin to unwrap your scarf from your neck as you near closer to the mahogany red door, turning to push it open with your side. “You put an apron covered in paint in your bag?” She sounds incredulous.

“It’s rolled, mom. I’ll call you later.” You repeat.

“Soon.” She says, and you hum before finally ending the call.

A gust of warm air hits the chilled skin of your face when you enter, along with the strong aroma of brewing coffee and a hint of vanilla. You move quickly to close the door behind you, not wanting to disturb anyone with the reality of what they’d have to endure once they leave.

“Welcome in.”

Your eyes follow over to the voice that called out, to catch him take a quick glance at you before turning to meet your eyes again.

He’s not much taller than the familiar college students that work here, but judging from his shoulders, his build is clearly much larger. Atop his wool baby blue sweater is a- definitely used -burgundy apron you’ve seen time and time again. Who you haven’t seen, however, is him.

Once his eyes flicker to the new customer in front of him and back to you, you realize that you’d completely ignored his greeting. And hadn’t moved from the door?

You find yourself sending a clumsy smile before moving across the hardwood floors to stand in line behind the short balding man repeating his order.

Your phone is in your hand a moment later, needing a distraction as to not ogle at the pretty green-eyed barista any longer. Your thumb instinctively lands on Instagram, as much as you wish it hadn’t.

A selfie of an old friend from high school.

A photo of someone’s newborn. The third you’d seen this month.

The conventional food flat lay.

You hear the man in front of you make a second order of two dozen bagels for a big meeting tomorrow morning. “Hoping for a promotion,” he says, a clear smile in his voice. You silently wish him the best. With bagels from Coldwell’s, he was bound to make a good impression.

You’ve been coming here since the beginning of your junior year, finding the cozy café to be a home away from home. You’d discovered it after moving out of your dorm, it was an unmistakable upgrade from the campus coffee shop you were forced to visit every morning.

Thick floor to ceiling windows on one wall, exposed brick and a menu on another; coupled with the bulbous string lights, numerous plants hanging from the ceiling and perched on shelves with the occasional vintage record.

There were unspoken sections inside; couches and low tables for group study sessions, a line of comfy booths along the back for brunches and dates, a few tables with mismatched wooden chairs for those who’d rather spend some time alone. It was always clean and well kept, and during Christmas, it smelled of nutmeg.

Depending on which barista had their phone connected to the speakers, the shop was either playing Spotify’s Chill Lofi Study Beats or smooth jazz, both welcomed by the regulars that filtered in day-to-day.

You hear the last drop of the bagel slicer when your phone buzzes faintly. Milo: We should go for breakfast one morning. When are you free? :) That message alone was enough for you to stuff your phone into your bag. Jesus Christ.

You watch the man’s scuffled loafers as he makes his way out, the arm free from two large boxes lifting to wish his barista a good night. Speaking of, he’s got a welcoming grin on his face when you step to the counter. There was no doubt he was recalling your odd entrance.

“Hello.”

His eyes are bright, they remind you of a dewy morning in a garden - and you wish you were in the right state of mind to watch him the way he was watching you. “Hi, um”, your eyes fly up to the menu as if you weren’t sure of exactly what you were getting. “Are you still selling those bottled fruit drinks? I usually get them in the morning.”

“The Pressed ones? Got a few in the back but I’ll grab one for you. What flavor?” You take a second to inwardly scold yourself for focusing too hard on the way he’d flavor, there was no second-guessing on whether he had an accent or not from moments ago.

“Blackberry,” you say, sending a small smile.

He taps at the screen of the POS, his lips tucked into his mouth as you reach into your bag for your wallet.

Not there. No. Not that pocket either.

You frown.

“So, a blackberry Pressed, anything else?”

Your head is nearly inside of your purse as you move your belongings around, cautious of smearing Crayola paint anywhere. “Please, a blueberry um...”, you flip the apron to stick out a bit and allow you more room to see, careful not to squeeze it too hard, “bagel?”

A beat of silence.

“You sure?”

Your head snaps back up to find the barista- Harry, his name tag reads, it suits him -smiling at you, teasing.

You laugh at yourself a bit before buttoning your bag closed. Your wallet was nowhere to be found; which would frighten you if you hadn’t already left it in the classroom twice this week. “Yes-. Yeah, sorry my brain is like, fried from studying.”

“No, yeah totally get it,” he says. Tot-ally.

You find yourself contemplating on whether you should tell him to completely scrap your order or give in and finally figure out how ApplePay works. He scratches at his chin. “Erm.. cream cheese?”

You have some at home. “No, thank you.”

He nods and you take a glance at the tiny hoop earring that catches in the overhead light as he does. You’re just about to resume digging in your bag to check one more time, when he surprises you by saying something that isn’t your total. “What are you majoring in?”

You readjust. “Education. I want to teach 3rd grade.”

“Do you?” His smile is wide and you notice the dimples that sink into his cheeks. Because of course, the guy has dimples.

His genuine happiness takes you by surprise and you laugh. “Yeah, I graduate this year. Well- hopefully. Still have to pass my finals.”

He’s still tapping at the POS- definitely taking much longer than normal, but you don’t mind. Thankfully you had nowhere to be for once.

“M’sure you’ll do great.” You smile, despite the fact that his eyes were still on the screen in front of him. “I um, I graduated just last year,” he looks up to see your eyebrows rise in question. “Film.”

“Film?” you repeat. “I.. Honestly, I can see that.” The earring, the eyes, his style. It made sense.

Tap. Tap. You catch the price going down.

“That because I’m working at a coffee shop?”

“That- What? No, no. I-“

He lets out a boyish giggle and shakes his head. “Only joking. That was a bit of a dig to us film majors, hm?”

“A little. It just makes sense,” you continue. “You look like a film major.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a compliment,” you say, and his lips twist to fight a smile.

“I’ll take it,” he says, slipping a glove onto his left hand. Your eyes immediately take notice of the cross etched next to his thumb. “Total comes out to $3.21. I’ll go grab your-“

“You didn’t have to do that.” You’ve ordered this countless times, and though Anne let you have your things for free when no one else was around, it’s always come out to $6.78.

Harry only frowns, shaking his head. Don’t worry about it. “I’ll go grab your drink.”

“Sure. Thank you.”

The second he disappeared into the kitchen you’ve seen so little of, you quickly lift your wrist to try and figure out how this stupid watch worked.

You told yourself to test this out at some point, but you just haven’t had the time. The pad of your figure taps and swipes against the tiny screen, nothing screaming pay with me!

Not that app.

Not that one either.

Had you even set it up?

You hear the door smack lightly against the wall. “Alright here’s- oh,” Harry stumbles upon return, eyebrows drawn together. “Did the card not work? There’s a chip at the bottom-“

“No, I was- I left my wallet at work and I’m trying to..” You point at the card reader. “Does this have Apple Pay?”

His eyes flicker between your watch and the reader before nodding. “Yeah, you’ve just got to..” he leans over the counter a bit and his hand hovers over yours. “May I?”

With confirmation, his nimble fingers press lightly into the inside of your wrist, tilting it toward the reader. His touch is soft- he’s excessively gentle despite only adjusting your hand. He moves his thumb to double click a button on the side of your device, the palm of his hand brushing the side of yours.

The both of you look up at one another, eyes meeting in much closer proximity than any time tonight.

You can’t possibly pick up a guy at a coffee shop. Right?

Ding!

You look down at your wrist that’s still in his hold, your tiny screen now displaying a successful checkmark.

He swiftly pulls his hand away, the gloved one quickly grabbing your bagel as the other grabbed a waxed baggie. “Sorry-“

“No, thank you.” You can’t help but let out a clumsy laugh at the moment the two of you just shared. Silly, you think to yourself.

“To go, yeah?”

“Please.”

He smiles, eyes focused on the screen before the printer hums to life and begins to spit out your receipt.

You watch as he works the bagel slicer and toaster without conscious thought, large hand pulling off his glove before taping the flimsy paper to the front of the bag. He’s sliding your items over to you to grab when you speak once more.

“And thank you again, for the discount.”

He only shakes his head, lips turning down into a funny looking frown. “Don’t worry about it, really. Good luck on finals.”

You smile gratefully, managing to hold your juice and bagel in one hand as you make your way back over to the door. “Thank you! Have a good night.”

“Bye, love you—“ He practically chokes on his own spit, turning quickly to cough steadily into the crook of his elbow.

You were halfway out of the door when you heard him, and now you stare, amused as the cold wind nips at the left side of your face. “Love me?”

“I-“ His nose crinkles, and he coughs one last time. “Sorry, I-“ You watch as he visibly relaxes once his focus is back on you and not on trying to breathe correctly.

Your head is tilted to the side, an obvious glint in your eye.

He lets out a breathy laugh before trying to continue. “I don’t-” Your eyebrows rise as he stumbles. “- love you. I just- I say it to friends a lot and I guess it… slipped? I don’t know-“

“I’m teasing.” You call out over the wind that blows through as you push the door open wider. You can’t help but laugh to yourself as you move to leave. “Don’t worry. Bye, Harry.”

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stylesnews · 4 years ago

Link

A year ago, the guitar was in dire straits. With songs like Travis Scott’s “Sicko Mode,” Ariana Grande’s “7 Rings,” Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts” and Panic! At the Disco’s “High Hopes” among the most consumed of 2019, programmed beats and horns were the sonic flavors of popular music. Sure, there were outliers — the Jonas Brothers’ “Sucker,” Maroon 5’s “Memories” and Post Malone’s “Circles” among them — but as the rock and alternative genres embraced artists like Billie Eilish, whose innovative music made the traditional band approach feel outdated, the days of chords and solos seemed numbered if not headed towards irrelevance.

Then came the coronavirus pandemic and things changed. Forced to perform from home or in rooms not intended for live music during lockdown, many artists went back to basics and out came the trusty six-string. For iHeartRadio’s “Living Room Concert for America” in March, Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl played an acoustic Guild on “My Hero”; Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day strummed to his band’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”; and even Eilish, with her collaborator brother Finneas, sang her hit “Bad Guy” accompanied by only a Fender acoustic. Other benefit livestreams like Global Citizen’s “One World Together At Home” event saw the Rolling Stones, Keith Urban and Shawn Mendes strip down their hit songs for unplugged versions. And in April, Miley Cyrus delivered an emotional cover of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” on “Saturday Night Live” with Andrew Watt, himself a COVID survivor, on guitar.

At the same time, there was an electric guitar solo being heard on one of the most-played songs in the United States. Harry Styles’ “Adore You,” which has logged 1.1 million radio spins in 2020, according to Mediabase, and has been streamed more than 400 million times, per Alpha Data, features the playing of Kid Harpoon (real name: Tom Hull), Styles’ friend and producer, who handled the guitar parts for much of the Brit’s excellent “Fine Line” album, released in Dec. 2019. As it turns out, the melody of the solo, which also serves as the bridge to “Adore You,” was first hummed by Styles for Hull to emulate. “I did it with my mouth into a microphone,” Styles told Variety in October. “And then Tom sent me this video trying to get it to sound the same. He spent a couple of hours getting it.”

Why include a guitar solo when most pop songs would never dare? “I feel it’s kind of like ‘La La Land’ saving jazz — only for rock ‘n’ roll,” Styles cracked when posed with the question. But more seriously speaking, Variety‘s Hitmaker of the Year added: “I’m not a spearheader of the movement, like, ‘Let’s bring back guitars.’ There’s plenty of times when [a song] doesn’t sound better with a guitar, and you don’t use it. But a lot of the references I grew up with have guitars; and it’s the first instrument I played, so it makes sense that I would like the sound of them more. I don’t think the guitar is dying. Guitars are great and always have been.”

In fact, guitar sales in 2020 have been robust. Music retailer Sweetwater reports more than 50% year-over-year growth in guitar purchases, with even larger increases during the peak COVID months of April, May and June “when customers most likely hunkered down to practice and create music after watching all of the streaming video they could handle,” according to a rep for the Indiana-based company.

The spike extended to other string instruments as well, which saw growth of more than 70% year-over-year in the price range of $299 or lower. The metric indicates that “new players are joining the fold,” says Sweetwater, which has been in business for over four decades and operates online. (Competitor Guitar Center, with more than 250 physical locations in the U.S., did not fare as well, filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection last month.)

Even in the virtual world, learning to play an instrument has taken off during lockdown. The platform Yousician, which provides interactive learning for guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and voice, currently reigns as the No. 1 app for music instruction while its sister product, GuitarTuna, is tops for guitar tuning.

Ask current writers and producers working in pop and hip-hop about their process and you soon learn that an acoustic guitar is often the beginning or the essence of a hit song. Among Variety‘s 2020 Hitmakers, the trio of Taz Taylor, Charlie Handsome and KC Supreme credited a guitar loop as the foundation for Trevor Daniel’s “Falling.” For Maren Morris’ “The Bones,” producer Greg Kurstin noted: “The first thing I noticed was Jimmy Robbins’ guitar hook; I wanted to keep the song rooted in that.”

“So many hit songs from 2020 started with a acoustic or electric guitar, whether it be a melody line or simple progression,” says songwriter and producer Jenna Andrews, whose recent credits include BTS’ “Dynamite” and Benee’s “Supalonely.”

And often, those guitar-based foundations remained through the finished product — for instance, 24KGoldn’s “Mood,” with its impossibly catchy sun-kissed guitar riff, and Powfu’s “death bed (coffee for your head).”

“I know it sounds kinda old school, but I love it when a well-recorded acoustic pops off on the radio,” says Sam Hollander, whose hits include the aforementioned “High Hopes” and Fitz and the Tantrums’ “HandClap.” “The bulk of my songs tend to be born on guitar. Without that foundation, the lyrics and melodies never really emote the heartbeat and emotion that I’m trying to dial in. There’s just a general warmth to it that’s hard to replicate. It’s like the warmest chocolate chip cookie.”

“I think the prevalence of guitar in 2020 has a lot to do with hip-hop producers using more emo and punk-rock influences,” offers Angie Pagano, whose AMP management company represents Tommy Brown (Ariana Grande, Blackpink) and Mr. Franks, among others. “Juice Wrld really helped bring this into the mainstream over the last few years. We’re seeing a great blend of emo and trap these days.”

Indeed, the year’s most-consumed hits leaned hip-hop �� Roddy Ricch’s “The Box” landed at No. 1 on the Hitmakers list with Future and Drake, Jack Harlow and Megan Thee Stallion in the Top 10 — but even DaBaby’s “Rockstar,” the No. 3 song of the year, referenced a guitar in its chorus, albeit alongside mention of a Glock pistol. That visual may go against what Hollander calls “the Kumbaya vibe of the guitar,” but the song still features an acoustic strum at its core.

In the case of Styles’ 2020 successes, which also include the ubiquitous “Watermelon Sugar,” his producer further explained that, while aware of what was reacting on the charts at the time they were recording, Styles wasn’t about to chase the trends. Said Tom Hull: “We [thought], we can’t play the commercial game in terms of what’s happening right now. What we can do is make music that really resonates with us. There’s no blueprint. You just have faith. We love records from the ’70s and ’80s; weird prog rock music that might be a seven-minute instrumental; then you’re listening to Shania Twain, like, ‘This is awesome, too.’ The goal was to make something we will always love, and if it completely flops commercially, at least we know we love it. We have that.”

#harry styles #jan21 #variety21

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thewritingginger · 4 years ago

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Birthday Surprise

Word count: 1850

Pairing: Satan x Fem! Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Pet Name (Kitten)

A/N: This isn’t technically a Halloween prompt but it does have some elements to it. But either way it’s one of my babes Birthday so I write. And it’s in October so ... 🎊 And this is my 100th post on this blog! 🎊

Enjoy ~

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Sighing in relief, you stand back. Looking up at your work of hanging the birthday banner - that took way too long to put up-. The black and orange letters still slightly crooked, you wave your hand dismissively at the finicky paper. ‘Whatever. He’s just gonna have to deal with a wonky banner!’ You think to yourself as you make sure the table has everything it needs.

On the round table in the kitchen rests a small square cake you had made. Frosted in jet black, contrasted with green lettering scrolling “Happy Birthday Satan!” across the surface punctuated with a little messy heart. And last but not least, a couple small presents you have gotten him.

Happy with your work you go to sit down on a cozy chair by the fireplace. Enjoying the little human world cottage you and Satan decided to rent for a few months to get away for some quality time. It’s the perfect size for just the two of you. It has little kitchen and dining area, a quaint living space complete with a fireplace and bookshelves, a bathroom with a nice bathtub, and a bedroom with a comfy bed. Everything a young couple would need in a space. Your wondering thoughts are broken by the sound of heavy boot steps on the porch. ‘He’s here!’ You jump up from your cozy spot and dash to the door to greet him.

Standing to the side, he opens the door. A shiver travels down your spine as a gust of cold air invades your warm sanctuary.

“Happy Birthday!” You exclaim, having already said that the moment he woke up, he laughs. “Thank you, Kitten.” Pulling you in by your waist, he places a soft yet passionate kiss upon your lips. Entranced by his touch, you look up at him warmly. You see him crack a smile once again but this time accompanied with a raised brow.

“What’s all this for?” He says confused, “Well cause it’s your birthday silly! Now come here.” You say, excitedly guiding him by his hand over to the little party area. Plopping him in one of the wooden chairs at the table he looks at the cake and laughs a bit. “What are you laughing at?” you ask playfully-stern. Making him chuckle more, “It’s nothing I’m just admiring the cake you made.” “Yeah, you better be.” your words punctuated with a soft flick of your fingers to his head. Your actions cause him to grab your wrist at lightning speed, gently pulling you down to hover over his back. “Watch it.” He warns with a chased kiss to your cheek. You giggle as you stand back up.

“Ok birthday boy, time for the festivities to begin!” Your words make him sigh an amused ‘oh, here we go.’ “Yes, here we go!” you announce as you bestow upon him a ridiculous sash that in bold letters writes, “B I R T H D A Y B O Y”. “Oh, Y/~” cutting him off before he can convince you from putting him through this, you shush him. “Oh babyy, we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” you whine, giving him puppy eyes. He sighs once again, “Fine~” he shakes his head at how a little human like you can make him bend at your will. Giggling with joy you quickly kiss his cheek as you grab the gold plastic crown on the other side on the table. Placing it on his head, you stand back. Covering your mouth to contain your laughter. Knowing that if you laugh too hard he might just take it off. “Ya’ happy now?” he asks, trying to seem upset. Seeing through his act you walk over and sit on his lap. Kissing his lips like he did before, “Yes. Very!” you smile.

After about an hour of talking, you and Satan decided to begin making dinner. Taking off the stupid crown he began prepping the food as you worked on clearing the table. After fixing the table for dinner you went over to the living room to turn on some music. Soft jazzy notes begin flowing through the air, bringing a gentle sway to your walk. Sitting on the table is two glasses of wine Satan had poured for the both of you. He pulls out your chair a bit, “Why thank you kind sir.” You say with a slight accent. “The pleasure is all mine.” He chortles back. “Not that I’m complaining, but aren’t I supposed to be giving you special treatment?” you ask. “Well if you want, I can get up and let you pull my chair out for me.” He says cheekily as he takes a sip of his wine. “Ha ha, very funny.” You sass back crinkling your nose.

Sitting on either side of the small table, the lights are dimmed, jazz playing in a low hum. Enjoying conversation over a pasta dinner, everything is great. But the night isn’t over yet.

“So how about we do cake and then presents.” You say cheerfully. He responds with a soft chuckle. After cleaning up the mess from dinner, you plant Satan back into his chair as you go to light the candles. Once lit, you turn around, cake in hand as you begin to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him. All he can do is just smile at you and your human traditions you bring him into.

“🎶Happy Birthday to yooou.�� Ok now make a wish!” You cheer. He blows out the candles as you clap, “Yay. Now time for your presents!”

Satan can’t help but notice how you’ve been very energetic and excitable through out the evening. “Why are you so quick to do everything? You know you don't have to jump around for me.” He leans back in his chair, amused. “What, your girlfriend can’t be excited and want to give you a good birthday?” You retort. “Ok, fine. Go ahead and jump around for me then.” He laughs.

The cake pushed to the side, you place the 3 small, cutely wrapped presents in front of Satan. Sitting next to him, chin resting in your palm you obverse him as he begins to unwrap his gifts.

After all have been unwrapped, a small pile of paper on the floor. In front of him lies an Incantation book he has had his eye on for a while, a few nice bookmarks and a bag of his favorite human world coffee. “Thank you so much for all of this Kitten, even though it was unnecessary.” He says as he leans over to kiss you. “Nonsense, I wanted to get you these.” Getting up to throw away the wrapping paper scraps, you turn around as if you just remembered something. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have one more gift for you.” You say as you dash away. Before Satan can respond you were already going up the stairs.

You return with a little black present box with a emerald green ribbon tied in a nice bow. Standing next to him you place it in front of him. Eagerly waiting for him to open it, he gives you a suspicious look. “Should I be nervous to open this?” He asks jokingly, causing you to swat his shoulder. “Ok, ok.” He laughs. Pulling the tail of the ribbon, undoing the bow. He opens the box and pulls out a little orange onesie with a jack-o’-lantern face printed on it. Satan is puzzled for a moment till a thought hits him in the face..

Looking up at you, then to the fabric in his hand, then back to you. “Ar- are you pregnant?” He asks, stunned. “Yeah…” you say with a shy smile.

He just sits there. Silently. Just staring at you. Only making you more anxious as you bite your lips.

“Hmm” He hums. Sitting back, arms crossed. “I thought you smelled different.” His words nonchalant. You finally burst. “What do you mean, ‘I thought you smelled different’?” You ask. “That’s all you have to say?” Looking at him surprised, unsure if maybe the situation hadn’t fully sunk in for him.

“Well yeah, for the last month or so your smell had changed a bit but I didn’t put much thought into it.” “So... you’re not mad?” You ask, testing the waters. His gaze softens a bit. Realizing what you’ve been feeling in the moments leading up to this. Turning his chair to face you, he pulls you closer to him by your waist. Hands resting on your hips. Looking up at you he speaks, “Y/n, why would you think I'd be mad?” His brows furrowed. You sigh. “Well because this wasn’t planned. And I mean we have talked about kids once, but I wasn’t sure how you would react.” Your honesty makes him think for a moment. “True, we have only talked about it once, and yes this certainly wasn’t planned. But if you remember in that conversation, I told you that you were the only woman I’ve seen myself having children with.” Hearing him say those words again makes your heart flutter the same it did that day.

His eyes travel down your body, landing on your tummy. “And besides when we first met, I never expected you would change my life the way you did. It’s only fitting that this would be a surprise as well.” He says, lightly caressing your sides.

Combing your fingers through his blonde locks, you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “I guess you’re right, but now what? I mean has a human and a demon ever done this?” You ask.

“Well It is possible that it has happened once before but I haven’t read anything too in depth about human-demon relationships.” He says.

Standing up, Satan looks down at you. His eyes warm, lips beginning to curve slightly. Bringing a large hand to rake through your hair, resting it on your cheek. Turning your sight up to his. He speaks again, “But whether or not this has been seen before is irrelevant. It’s happening now and I’m sure it’ll be fine. Now, I can’t promise that it will be easy but what I can promise you is that I will be here for you every step of the way. And not just you...” He says, gazing down at your gifted womb.

“I promise to be there for you too.”

His words, almost a whisper like they weren’t yours to hear. You smile at the demon's gentleness. His loving eyes returning the favor, basking you in a calming warmth. Reassuring you that everything will be fine with him by your side.

“Why don’t we cut your cake now.” you state with a smile. “I see the pregnancy cravings are already in full swing.” You swat him at his joking words. “Watch it.” you playfully say as you begin to cut the cake. Wrapping his strong arms around your waist, his hands resting on your belly. “As I suspected, this is going to be fun.” his words punctuated with a soft kiss on your shoulder.

Yes it will be.

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AHH I hope you enjoyed this!

I knew I want to write a little something for is birthday and I am really soft for Daddy Satan and I hope you are too :3

But who doesn’t love soft dad AUs!?!?

(P.S. I was tired while editing this so forgive me for any odd occurrences 😅)

💛 ~

#OBEY ME #obey me game #shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me satan #shall we date satan #satan #satan x reader #x reader #fluff #obey me birthday #satan birthday #not a request #love daddy satan so why not start from the beginning :3 #dad au

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p1harmonyofficial · 4 years ago

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[📰] Rising stars of K-pop: in conversation with P1Harmony, new breed of boy band from the agency behind AOA, CNBlue

By Tamar Herman

The group were introduced in the film ‘P1H: The Beginning of a New World’, and have released a debut EP, ‘Disharmony: Stand Out’ and a single, ‘Siren’

They talk about why it’s important to break stereotypes, acting in the future, and what music means to them

South Korea’s FNC Entertainment made its name with K-pop bands such as FT Island and CNBlue before producing acts including AOA and SF9. But its latest act, P1Harmony, is a new breed of boy band.

The boys were introduced in the movie P1H: The Beginning of a New World, and then with the release of their debut EP “Disharmony: Stand Out” and the single Siren on October 28. Just as a siren heralds the arrival of emergency workers, Siren is meant to signal the arrival of P1Harmony on the K-pop scene. After its release, the six members spoke to the Post.

How do you feel about your debut?

Intak: We have been dreaming about this for so long and we are grateful that people are responding to our movie and music.

What’s the most important thing you’d like listeners to take from “Disharmony: Stand Out”?

Keeho: To learn the importance of breaking stereotypes. To be brave, have courage, and stand up for what you believe in, what you like, and what you love.

Jiung: In Korea, students are graded for their personality and attitude, and there’s a lot of competition. We’re trying to talk about that situation and the role it plays at large.

You started your career by releasing a feature-length film. How did you feel about that experience?

Soul: I was really nervous before filming, but realised it was something I enjoyed. I want to pursue this and keep doing it.

Keeho: We’re thinking of [doing] a series, but right now we’re still focused on our music. Maybe if there’s time in the future, we’ll do more acting.

Jiung: Now that we’ve shared our movie and album, we’ve been able to learn what people liked and didn’t, and so we can correct our ways. It’s a new day every day.

How do you face disharmony among yourselves as a team?

Keeho: We sit around and talk. We say what we like about each other and can deal with uncomfortable situations. We display our emotions and work things out. We don’t have a lot of problems, but when we do we communicate and try to figure things out right then and there.

In Siren, you say “music without love means nothing” – I’m curious about what music means to you?

Jiung: I have a lot of thoughts and mood swings, and I wanted to find a way to let out my thoughts or emotions. I found that music worked for me and I got addicted.

Keeho: Music is a healer. It can connect people regardless of language. That’s why I think music is so important. It’s an honour being able to make music and being part of what music does to people.

In Western mythology, sirens are creatures that seduce sailors with their voices. What’s a vice or hobby that you personally feel a siren call for?

Jiung: Bulgogi [marinated beef] with gochujang [chilli paste].

Intak: Music is my life.

Theo: [Computer] games.

Jongseob: Friends.

Soul: Potatoes.

Keeho: Me too! Do you know how many ways you can make potatoes? There’s not a single food on the planet right now that’s doing better than potatoes.

Soul: Also sushi!

What’s a valuable trait of yours?

Keeho: Staying positive comes easy to me.

Intak: I’m very passionate.

Jiung: It might be negative sometimes, but my self-awareness. My ability to read the room.

Jongseob: Once I get obsessed with one thing, I go all in.

Theo: I’m a giver. I can read people easily. I’m happy to compromise.

Keeho: We call him a chameleon. He vibes [with people].

Soul: I don’t have strong opinions so I’m easy-going.

What’s an artist, song or album that you remember feeling intensely about when young, or one that made you think, “I want to do this”?

Intak: Not the first, but my rap teacher gave me an album by [American rapper] A$ap Rocky.

Keeho: On my hand-me-down pink iPod Nano from my sister, my mum put Girls’ Generation’s Genie.

Jiung: My family used to go on trips once a week, and I always remember listening to Lee Seung-chul’s White Bird.

Jongseob: The [2007 film] Once soundtrack.

Theo: Lee Moon-sae.

Soul: [K-pop band] Teen Top.

What’s a hobby you try to make time for?

Jongseob: I’ve never mentioned this before, but I like to draw flowers in my lyric notebook.

This year has been disharmonious for many people. How do you find your harmony again when stressed?

Intak: I like to hold concerts during my showers.

Keeho: He dances too. It’s kind of dangerous because it’s wet.

Theo: I speak to friends on the phone.

Jongseob: I might only be 15 but I like to go into my room, listen to jazz music, and do absolutely nothing.

Jiung: I like to be alone.

Soul: I don’t know if I get stressed.

Intak: He’s a happy child.

Keeho: I like to talk to my family. Also, everything’s very new to us currently so being able to be on stage and perform is a lot of fun. It’s a very good stress reliever.

What do you hope to accomplish together as a group?

Jiung: First and foremost, win the rookie of the year award.

Theo: Down the road, we want to be a group considered the most charismatic and inspiring among all idols.

Jiung: Of course we want to be loved, but what we also want people to pay attention to our growth and potential.

Keeho: We want to set a good example and inspire youth and people all over the world. And we want to last for a long time. We’d like to stay genuine to our music. And we want to see our fans. It’s unfortunate that we can’t see them because of the current situation.

Intak: We want to stand out among others as artists with an inspiring message and we want to surprise people with our endless ability.

#p1harmony #ot6 #t:news #era:disharmony : stand out #201123

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tvdas · 4 years ago

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John Berryman in 1966, two years after the publication of “77 Dream Songs.” The Heartsick Hilarity of John Berryman’s Letters is a book review by Anthony Lane (in The New Yorker) of The Selected Letters of John Berryman. The book is edited by Philip Coleman and Calista McRae and published by the Belknap Press, at Harvard. My acquaintance, the generous Philip Coleman, mailed me a copy of this book at the end of October. Lane writes, “. . . anyone who delights in listening to Berryman, and who can’t help wondering how the singer becomes the songs, will find much to treasure here, in these garrulous and pedantic pages. There is hardly a paragraph in which Berryman—poet, pedagogue, boozehound, and symphonic self-destroyer—may not be heard straining toward the condition of music. ‘I have to make my pleasure out of sound,’ he says. The book is full of noises, heartsick with hilarity, and they await their transmutation into verse.” Here is the book review:

The poet John Berryman was born in 1914, in McAlester, Oklahoma. He was educated at Columbia and then in England, where he studied at Cambridge, met W. H. Auden and Dylan Thomas, and lit a cigarette for W. B. Yeats. All three men left traces in Berryman’s early work. In 1938, he returned to New York and embarked upon a spate of teaching posts in colleges across the land, beginning at Wayne State University and progressing to stints at Harvard, Princeton, Cincinnati, Berkeley, Brown, and other arenas in which he could feel unsettled. The history of his health, physical and mental, was no less fitful and spasmodic, and alcohol, which has a soft spot for poets, found him an easy mark. In a similar vein, his romantic life was lunging, irrepressible, and desperate, so much so that it squandered any lasting claim to romance. Thrice married, he fathered a son and two daughters. He died in 1972, by jumping from the Washington Avenue Bridge in Minneapolis. To the appalled gratification of posterity, his fall was witnessed by somebody named Art Hitman.

Berryman would have laughed at that. In an existence that was littered with loss, the one thing that never failed him, apart from his unwaning and wax-free ear for English verse, was his sense of humor. The first that I heard of Berryman was this:

Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so. After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns, we ourselves flash and yearn, and moreover my mother told me as a boy (repeatingly) ‘Ever to confess you’re bored means you have no

Inner Resources.’ I conclude now I have no inner resources, because I am heavy bored. Peoples bore me, literature bores me, especially great literature, Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes as bad as achilles,

who loves people and valiant art, which bores me. And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag and somehow a dog has taken itself & its tail considerably away into mountains or sea or sky, leaving behind: me, wag.

“Wag” meaning a witty fellow, or “wag” meaning that he is of no more use than the back end of a mutt? Who on earth is Henry? Also, whoever’s talking, why does he address us as “friends,” as if he were Mark Antony and we were a Roman mob, and why can’t he even honor Achilles—the hero of the Iliad, a foundation stone of “great literature”—with a capital letter? You have to know such literature pretty well before you earn the right to claim that it tires you out. Few knew it better than Berryman, or shouldered the burdens of serious reading with a more remorseless joy. As he once said, “When it came to a choice between buying a book and a sandwich, as it often did, I always chose the book.”

“Life, friends” is the fourteenth of “The Dream Songs,” the many-splendored enterprise that consumed Berryman’s energies in the latter half of his career, and on which his reputation largely rests. His labors on the Songs began in 1955 and led to “77 Dream Songs,” which was published in 1964 and won him a Pulitzer Prize. In the course of the Songs, which he regarded as one long poem, he is represented, or unreliably impersonated, by a figure named Henry, who undergoes “the whole humiliating Human round” on his behalf. As Berryman explained, “Henry both is and is not me, obviously. We touch at certain points.” In 1968, along came a further three hundred and eight Songs, under the title “His Toy, His Dream, His Rest.” (A haunting phrase, which grabs the seven ages of man, as outlined in “As You Like It,” and squeezes them down to three.) Two days after publication, he was asked, by the Harvard Advocate, about his profession. “Being a poet is a funny kind of jazz. It doesn’t get you anything,” he said. “It’s just something you do.”

There was plenty of all that jazz. Berryman forsook the distillations of Eliot for the profusion of Whitman; the Dream Songs, endlessly rocking and rolling, surge onward in waves. Lay them aside, and you still have the other volumes of Berryman’s poems, including “The Dispossessed” (1948), “Homage to Mistress Bradstreet” (1956), and “Love & Fame” (1970). Bundled together, they fill nearly three hundred pages. If magnitude freaks you out, there are slimmer selections—one from the Library of America, edited by Kevin Young, the poetry editor of this magazine, and another, “The Heart Is Strange,” compiled by Daniel Swift to toast the centenary, in 2014, of the poet’s birth. And don’t forget the authoritative 1982 biography by John Haffenden, who also put together a posthumous collection, “Henry’s Fate and Other Poems,” in 1977, as well as “Berryman’s Shakespeare” (1999), a Falstaffian banquet of his scholarly work on the Bard. Some of Berryman’s critical writings are clustered, invaluably, in “The Freedom of the Poet” (1976). In short, you need space on your shelves, plus a clear head, if you want to join the Berrymaniacs. Proceed with caution; we can be a cranky bunch.

Of late, Berryman’s star has waned. Its glow was never steady in the first place, but it has dimmed appreciably, because of lines like these:

Arrive a time when all coons lose dere grip, but is he come? Le’s do a hoedown, gal.

“The Dream Songs” is a hubbub, and some of it is spoken in blackface—or, to be accurate, in what might be described as blackvoice. It deals in unembarrassed minstrelsy, complete with a caricature of verbal tics, all too pointedly transcribed: “Now there you exaggerate, Sah. We hafta die.” To say that Berryman was airing the prejudices of his era is hardly to exonerate him; in any case, he seems to be evoking, in purposeful anachronism, an all but vanished age of vaudeville. Kevin Young, who is Black, prefaces his choice of Berryman’s poetry by arguing, “Much of the force of The Dream Songs comes from its use of race and blackface to express a (white) self unraveling.” Some readers will share Young’s generously inquiring attitude; others will veer away from Berryman and never go back.

For anyone willing to stick around, there’s a new book on the block. “The Selected Letters of John Berryman” weighs in at more than seven hundred pages. It is edited by Philip Coleman and Calista McRae, and published by the Belknap Press, at Harvard—a selfless undertaking, given that Berryman derides Harvard as “a haven for the boring and the foolish,” wherein “my students display a form of illiterate urbanity which will soon become very depressing.” (Not that other colleges elude his gibes. Berkeley is summed up as “Paradise, with anthrax.”) The earliest letter, dated September, 1925, is from the schoolboy Berryman to his parents, and ends, “I love you too much to talk about.” In a pleasing symmetry, the final letter printed here, from 1971, shows Berryman rejoicing in his own parenthood. He tells a friend, “We had a baby, Sarah Rebecca, in June—a beauty.”

And what lies in between? More or less the polyphony that you’d expect, should you come pre-tuned into Berryman. “Vigour & fatigue, confidence & despair, the elegant & the blunt, the bright & the dry.” Such is the medley, he says, that he finds in the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, and you can feel Berryman swooping with similar freedom from one tone to the next. “Books I’ve got, copulation I need,” he writes from Cambridge, at the age of twenty-two, thus initiating a lifelong and dangerous refrain. When he reports, two years later, that “I was attacked by an excited loneliness which is still with me and which has so far produced fifteen poems,” is that a grouse or a boast? There are alarming valedictions: “Nurse w. another shot. no more now,” or, “Maybe I better go get a bottle of whisky; maybe I better not.” There are letters to Ezra Pound, one of which, sent with “atlantean respect & affection,” announces, “What we want is a new form of the daring,” a very Poundian demand. And there are smart little swerves into the aphoristic—“Writers should be heard and not seen”; “All modern writers are complicated before they are good”—or into courteous eighteenth-century brusquerie. Pastiche can be useful when you have a grudge to convey: “My dear Sir: You are plainly either a fool or a scoundrel. It is kinder to think you a fool; and so I do.” It’s a letter best taken with a pinch of snuff.

Berryman was a captious and self-heating complainer, slow to cool. Just as the first word of the Iliad means “Wrath,” so the first word of the opening Dream Song is “Huffy.” Seldom can you predict the cause of his looming ire. A concert performance by the Stradivarius Quartet, in the fall of 1941, drives him away: “Beethoven’s op. 130 they took now to be a circus, now to be a sea-chantey, & I fled in the middle to escape their Cavatina.” The following year, an epic letter to his landlord, on Grove Street, in Boston, is almost entirely concerned with a refrigerator, which has “developed a high-pitched scream.” Berryman was not an easy man to live with, or to love, and the likelihood that even household appliances found his company intolerable cannot be dismissed.

Yet the poet was scarcely unique in his vexations; we all have our fridges to bear. Something else, far below the hum of daily pique, resounds through this massive book—a ground bass of doom and dejection. “You may prepare my coffin.” “If this reaches you, you will know I got as far as a letter-box at any rate.” “I write in haste, being back in Hell.” Such are the dirges to which Berryman treats his friends, in the winter of 1939–40, and the odd jauntiness in which he couches his misery somehow makes it worse. It’s one thing to write, “I am fed up with pretending to be alive when in fact I am not,” but quite another to dispatch those words, as Berryman did, to someone whom you are courting; the recipient was Eileen Mulligan, whom he married nine months later, in October, 1942. To the critic Mark Van Doren, who had been his mentor at Columbia, he was more formal in his woe, declaring, “Each year I hope that next year will find me dead, and so far I have been disappointed, but I do not lose that hope, which is almost my only one.” We are close to the borders of Beckett.

There are definite jitters of comedy in so funereal a pose, and detractors of Berryman would say that he keeps trying on his desolation, like a man getting fitted for a dark suit. The trouble is that we know how he died. Even if he is putting on an act, for the horrified benefit of his correspondents, it is still a rehearsal for the main event, and you can’t inspect the long lament that he sends to Eileen in 1953—after they have separated—without glancing ahead, almost twenty years, to the dénouement of his days. The letter leaps, like one of those 3 a.m. frettings which every insomniac will recognize, directly from money to death. “I only have $2.15 to live through the week,” the poet says, before laying out his plans. “My insurance, the only sure way of paying my debts, expires on Thursday. So unless something happens I have to kill myself day after tomorrow evening or earlier.” To be specific, “What I am going to do is drop off the George Washington bridge. I believe one dies on the way down.” If Berryman is playing Cassandra to himself, crying out the details of his own quietus, how did the cry begin?

It is tempting to turn biography into cartography—unrolling the record of somebody’s life, smoothing it flat, and indicating the major fork in the road. Most of us rebut this thesis, as we amble maplessly along. In Berryman’s case, however, there was a fork, so terrible and so palpable that no account of him, and no encounter with his poems, can afford to ignore it. The road didn’t simply split in two; it was cratered, in the summer of 1926, when his father, John Allyn Smith, committed suicide.

The family was living in Clearwater, Florida, at the time, and young John was eleven years old. There was a bizarre prelude to the calamity, when his brother, Robert, was taken out by their father for a swim in the Gulf. What occurred next remains murky, but it seemed, for a while, as if they would not be returning to shore. One of the Dream Songs takes up the tale, mixing memory and denial:

Also I love him: me he’s done no wrong for going on forty years—forgiveness time— I touch now his despair, he felt as bad as Whitman on his tower but he did not swim out with me or my brother as he threatened—

a powerful swimmer, to         take one of us along as company in the defeat sublime, freezing my helpless mother: he only, very early in the morning, rose with his gun and went outdoors by my window and did what was needed.

I cannot read that wretched mind, so strong & so undone. I’ve always tried. I—I’m trying to forgive whose frantic passage, when he could not live an instant longer, in the summer dawn left Henry to live on.

Smith’s death would become the primal wound for his older son. Notice how the tough and Hemingway-tinged curtness of “did what was needed” gives way, all too soon, to the halting stammer of “I—I’m trying.” The wound was suppurating and unhealable, and there is little doubt that it deepened the festering of Berryman’s life. As he writes in one of the final Dream Songs, “I spit upon this dreadful banker’s grave / who shot his heart out in a Florida dawn / O ho alas alas.” Haffenden quotes these lines, raw with recrimination, in his biography; dryly informs us that the poet, in fact, never visited his father’s grave; and supplies us with relevant notes that Berryman made in 1970—two years before he, in turn, found a bridge and did what he thought was needed. He sounds like a patient striving mightily to become his own shrink:

Did I myself feel any guilt perhaps—long-repressed if so & this is mere speculation (defense here) about Daddy’s death? (I certainly pickt up enough of Mother’s self-blame to accuse her once, drunk & raging, of having actually murdered him & staged a suicide.)

Alternatively:

So maybe my long self-pity has been based on an error, and there has been no (hero-) villain (Father) ruling my life, but only an unspeakably powerful possessive adoring mother, whose life at 75 is still centered wholly on me. And my (omnipotent) feeling that I can get away with anything.

For readers who ask themselves, browsing through “Berryman’s Shakespeare,” why the poet bent his attention, again and again, to “Hamlet,” to the plight of the prince, and to the preoccupations—as Berryman boldly construed them—of the man who wrote the play, here is an answer of sorts. And, for anyone wanting more of this unholy psychodrama, consider the list of characters. Berryman’s mother, born Martha Little, married John Allyn Smith. Less than eleven weeks after his death, she married her landlord, John Angus McAlpin Berryman, and thereafter called herself Jill, or Jill Angel. As for the poet, he was baptized with his father’s name, was known as Billy in infancy, and then, in deference to his brand-new stepfather, became John Berryman. This is like Hamlet having to call himself Claudius, Jr., on top of everything else. As Berryman remarks, “Damn Berrymans and their names.”

A book of back-and-forth correspondence with his mother was published in 1988, under the title “We Dream of Honour.” (Having picked up the habit of British spelling, at Cambridge, Berryman never kicked it.) Inexcusably, it’s now out of print, but worth tracking down; and you could swear, as you leaf through it, that you’d stumbled upon a love affair. The son says to the mother, “I hope you’re well, darling, and less worried.” The mother tells the son, “I have loved you too much for wisdom, or it is perhaps nearer truth to say that with love or in anger, I am not wise.” We are offered a facsimile of a letter from 1953, in which Berryman begins, “Mother, I have always failed; but I am not failing now.”

One obvious shortfall in the “Selected Letters” is that “We Dream of Honour” took the cream of the crop. Only eight letters here are addressed to Martha, six of them mailed from school, and, if you’re approaching Berryman as a novice, your take on him will be unavoidably skewed. By way of compensation, we get a wildly misconceived letter of advice from the middle-aged Berryman to his son, Paul, concluding with the maxim “Strong fathers crush sons.” Paul was four at the time. Haffenden has already cited that letter, however, and doubts whether it was ever sent. One item in the new book that I have never read before, and would prefer not to read again, is a letter from the fourteen-year-old Berryman to his stepfather, whom he calls Uncle Jack, and before whom he cringes as if whipped. “I’m a coward, a cheat, a bully, and a thief if I had the guts to steal,” the boy writes. Things get worse: “I have none of the fine qualities or emotions, and all the baser ones. I don’t understand why God permitted me to be born.” He signs himself “John Berryman,” the sender mirroring the recipient, and adds, “P.S. I’m a disgrace to your name.”

To read such words is to marvel that Berryman survived as long as he did. If one virtue emerged from the wreckage of his early years, it was a capacity to console; later, in the midst of his drinking and his lechery, he remained a reliable guide to grief, and to the blast area that surrounds it. In May, 1955, commiserating with Saul Bellow, whose father has just passed away, Berryman writes, “Unfortunately I am in a v g position to feel with you: my father died for me all over again last week.” He unfolds his larger theme: “His father’s death is one of the few main things that happens to a man, I think, and it matters greatly to the life when it happens.” Bellow’s affliction, Berryman reassures him, lofts him into illustrious company: “Shakespeare was probably in the middle of Hamlet and I think his effort increased.” Freud and Luther are then added to the roster of the fruitfully bereaved.

None of this will surprise an admirer of the Dream Songs. Among the loveliest are those in which the poet mourns departed friends, such as Robert Frost, Louis MacNeice, Theodore Roethke, and Delmore Schwartz. Berryman the comic, who can be scabrously funny, not least at his own expense, consorts with Berryman the frightener (“In slack times visit I the violent dead / and pick their awful brains”) and Berryman the elegist, who can summon whole twilights of sorrow. In this, a tribute to Randall Jarrell, he gradually allows the verse to run on, like overflowing water, across the line breaks, with a grace denied to our harshly end-stopped lives:

In the night-reaches dreamed he of better graces, of liberations, and beloved faces, such as now ere dawn he sings. It would not be easy, accustomed to these things, to give up the old world, but he could try; let it all rest, have a good cry.

Let Randall rest, whom your self-torturing cannot restore one instant’s good to, rest: he’s left us now. The panic died and in the panic’s dying so did my old friend. I am headed west also, also, somehow.

In the chambers of the end we’ll meet again I will say Randall, he’ll say Pussycat and all will be as before when as we sought, among the beloved faces, eminence and were dissatisfied with that and needed more.

A photograph of 1941 shows Berryman in a dark coat, a hat, and a bow tie. His jaw is clean-shaven and firm. With his thin-rimmed spectacles and his ready smile, he looks like a spry young stockbroker on his way home from church. Skip ahead to the older Berryman, and you observe a very different beast, with a beard like the mane of a disenchanted lion. Finches could roost in it. The rims of his glasses are now thick and black, and his hands, in many images, refuse to be at rest. They gesticulate and splay, as if he were conducting an orchestra that he alone can hear. A cigarette serves as his baton.

If you seek to understand this metamorphosis, “The Selected Letters of John Berryman” can help. What greets us here, as often as not, is a parody of a poet. Watch him fumble with the mechanisms of the everyday, “ghoulishly inefficient about details and tickets and visas and trains and money and hotels.” Chores are as heavy as millstones, to his hypersensitive neck: “Do this, do that, phone these, phone those, repair this, drown that, poison the other.” We start to sniff a blend—peculiar to Berryman, like a special tobacco—of the humbled and the immodest. It drifts about, in aromatic puns: “my work is growing by creeps & grounds.” Though the outer world of politics and civil strife may occasionally intrude, it proves no match for the smoke-filled rooms inside the poet’s head. When nuclear tests are carried out at Bikini Atoll, in 1954, they register only briefly, in a letter to Bellow. “This thermonuclear business wd tip me up all over again if I were in shape to attend to it,” Berryman writes, before moving on to a harrowing digest of his diarrhea.

Above all, this is a book-riddled book. No one but Berryman, it’s fair to say, would write from a hospital in Minneapolis, having been admitted in a state of alcoholic and nervous prostration, to a bookstore in Oxford, asking, “Can you let me know what Elizabethan Bibles you have in stock?” The recklessness with which he abuses his body is paired with an indefatigable and nurselike care for textual minutiae. (“Very very tentatively I suggest that the comma might come out.”) Only on the page can he trust his powers of control, although even those desert him at a deliciously inappropriate moment. Writing to William Shawn at The New Yorker, in 1951, and proposing “a Profile on William Shakespeare,” Berryman begins, “Dear Mr Shahn.” Of all the editors of all the magazines in all the world, he misspells him.

No such Profile appeared; nor, to one’s infinite regret, did the edition of “King Lear” on which Berryman toiled for years. What we do have is his fine essay of 1953, “Shakespeare at Thirty,” which begins, “Suppose with me a time, a place, a man who was waked, risen, washed, dressed, fed, on a day in latter April long ago—about April 22, say, of 1594, a Monday.” Few scholars would have the bravado, or the imaginative dexterity, for such supposings, and it’s a thrill to see a living poet treat a dead one not as a monument but as a partner in crime. “Oh my god! Shakespeare. That multiform & encyclopedic bastard,” Berryman says in a letter of 1952, as if the two of them had just locked horns in a tavern.

Such plunges into the past, with its promise of adventure and refuge, came naturally to Berryman, nowhere more so than in “Homage to Mistress Bradstreet,” which was published in the Partisan Review in 1953 and, three years later, as a book. This was the poem with which he broke through—discovering not just a receptive audience but a voice that, in its heightened lyrical pressure, sounded like his and nobody else’s. The irony is that he did so by assuming the role of a woman: Anne Bradstreet, herself a poet, who emigrated from England to America, in 1630. It is her tough, pious, and hardscrabble history that Berryman chronicles: “Food endless, people few, all to be done. / As pippins roast, the question of the wolves / turns & turns.” In a celebrated scene, the heroine gives birth. Even if you dispute the male ability (or the right) to articulate such an experience, it’s hard not to be swayed by the fervor of dramatic effort:

I can can no longer and it passes the wretched trap whelming and I am me

drencht & powerful, I did it with my body! One proud tug greens Heaven. Marvellous, unforbidding Majesty. Swell, imperious bells. I fly.

What the poem cost its creator, over more than four years, is made plain in the letters, which ring with an exhausted ecstasy. “I feel like weeping all the time,” he tells one friend. “I regard every word in the poem as either a murderer or a lover.” As for Anne, who perished in 1672, “I certainly at some point fell in love with her.” Berryman adds, as if to prove his devotion, “I used three shirts at a time, in relays. I wish I were dead.”

Is this how we like poetry to be brought forth, even now? Though we may never touch the stuff, reading no verse from one year to the next, do we still expect it to be delivered in romantic agony, with attendant birth pangs? (So much for Wallace Stevens, who composed much of his work while gainfully employed, on a handsome salary, as an insurance executive.) Berryman viewed the notion of his being a confessional poet “with rage and contempt,” and rightly so; the label is an insult to his craftsmanship. Nobody pining for mere self-expression, or craving a therapeutic blurt, could lavish on a paramour, as Berryman did, lines as elaborately wrought as these:

Loves are the summer’s. Summer like a bee Sucks out our best, thigh-brushes, and is gone.

You have to reach back to Donne to find so commanding an exercise in the clever-sensual. It comes from “Berryman’s Sonnets,” a sequence of a hundred and fifteen poems, published in 1967. Most of them had been written long before, in 1947, in heat and haste, during an affair with a woman named Chris Haynes. And, in this huge new hoard of letters, how many are addressed to Haynes? Precisely one. Gossip hunters will slouch off in frustration, and good luck to them; on the other hand, anyone who delights in listening to Berryman, and who can’t help wondering how the singer becomes the songs, will find much to treasure here, in these garrulous and pedantic pages. There is hardly a paragraph in which Berryman—poet, pedagogue, boozehound, and symphonic self-destroyer—may not be heard straining toward the condition of music. “I have to make my pleasure out of sound,” he says. The book is full of noises, heartsick with hilarity, and they await their transmutation into verse.

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sapienveneficus · 5 years ago

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Elsie Fest 2019: A Broadway Music Festival Sans Broadway

Another year, another Elsie Fest. This year marks the Broadway festival's fifth anniversary, and it also happens to be the fourth Elsie Fest I've been able to attend. Coming off a the high of 2018's festival, this year's event had some mighty big shoes to fill. Did it succeed? In a word? No. I had fun last night, don't get me wrong, but I couldn't help but be disappointed by several aspects of the event. Let me break it down for you.

For those who haven't been to Elsie Fest, there's a rhythm to whole thing that's important to explain right at the top. The seating at the venue is, for the most part, general admission so people line up well before the gates open to secure the best spots near the stage. I joined the line about 2 hours before opening and, therefore, managed to snag a pretty good spot. I laid out my blanket, sat down, and took part in the hour-long showtunes sing-a-long lead, once again, by our favorite dynamic duo from Marie's Crisis. This hour of fun was a highlight for me; it always is. But this year especially it proved to be one of the few celebrations of Broadway to be found at this Broadway music festival. More on that later.

As the hour came to a close, and the guys from Marie's Crisis were wrapping things up on stage, I took a look around the venue. I couldn't help but notice that it wasn't as full as it had been the year before (or the year before that). That observation got me thinking, why was attendance down this year? After a bit of brainstorming, I came up with a few potential causes.

First up, timing. Elsie Fest has always been on a Sunday. Since the show moved to Central Park back in 2017, it has specifically been the Sunday smack dab in the middle of Columbus Day Weekend. For any international readers, Columbus Day is a federal holiday (like a bank holiday) here in the US that falls on the second Monday in October. So, for the past two years, Elsie Fest was been held in the middle of a 3 day weekend. Which meant it was generally easy for folks in the tri state area to make the trip into the city. Also, falling on a Sunday evening meant it was easy to get Broadway folks (even those currently in shows) to stop by since most shows only run a matinee on Sundays and typically have Mondays off. By choosing a Saturday this year, the organizers made it harder for some regular attendees to come out (people tend to have things to do on Saturdays plus, for some, it's the Sabbath), and they cut down on their talent pool significantly because they wouldn't be able to get anyone currently working on or off Broadway.

This segues nicely into the second reason for the potential dip in ticket sales, namely the featured performers. There weren't really any big names this year. Last year, for example, we had Sutton Foster, Joshua Henry, Grant Gustin, Matthew Morrison, Alex Newell, Nick Jonas, Zachary Levi, Casey Cott, Rufus Wainwright, Jodi Benson, and performances from Be More Chill and The Prom. This year, up until about a week before, the only big-ish name attached to the show was Gavin Creel. I say a week before because last week they announced Cynthia Erivo. I'm guessing she was added last minute in a desperate attempt to sell tickets. Which sort of worked, the venue wasn't empty, but kinda proves my point. By having this on a Saturday they weren't able to bring in the talent that they had in years past and, without those big names, they weren't able to bring in as many attendees.

Finally, the third reason for the lackluster ticket sales was New York Comic Con. This doesn't require much in the way of explanation. This weekend was New York Comic Con. Lots of the big panels, sales, and cosplay events fall on Saturday, and it's not a stretch to assume that NYCC and Elsie Fest are drawing from similar, if not the same, pools of people. So that probably hurt sales a bit as well. Though I suspect the two other reasons were larger contributing factors.

Okay, back to the show itself. After the sing-a-long, we were shown a quick trailer for High School Musical: The Musical – The Series. (You are not misreading what I wrote, that's the show's actual title) After the trailer, two of the kids came out to sing Breaking Free. Their performance was super cute, and I was reminded of the fact that HSM debuted in early 2006. Which means that all the tweens and teens who grew up with this film series are now fully-fledged adults. And they were out in the audience, in full force, singing along. It was a sweet moment to witness. And, not going to lie, I was singing along as well. I have a soft spot for the series myself. It'll always remind me of my first year of teaching. My students were obsessed HSM, and I was right there with them.

Next, Dyllon Burnside came out and performed an RnB version of Luck Be a Lady from Guys and Dolls. This number was okay. Dyllon's got a great voice and the woman who came up with him to dance as Luck was talented. But the performance had a rocky start because there wasn't an introduction. Someone just said into a mic, here's Dyllon Burnside, and then it started. I remember standing there thinking to myself, “Who's Dyllon Burnside?” I googled him today and found out he's on that Ryan Murphy show, Pose. It might have been a good idea to give that info up front. Anyhow, like I said, his performance was okay. RnB is not my cup of tea, but he had a good voice and a commanding stage presence so I could put up with that style for a single song.

After Dyllon, the composer of The Lightning Thief, Rob Rokicki, took the stage with a few backup singers. He performed Good Kid, The Lightning Thief's opening number. This performance was an example of how the timing of this year's festival hurt its lineup. Rob's a composer with a passable voice, not performer. And this song needs a cast of performers to be done properly. Unfortunately, Rob’s talented cast couldn't be there because it was Saturday night, and they had an evening show to do over at the Longacre. So we, the audience, were stuck with Rob. No offense to Rob, he seemed like a sweet guy, but he's not a performer. He should have been there to introduce his cast, not perform in their place.

After Rob, came the first set of the evening, a series of songs performed by Anais Mitchell, the composer/creator of Hadestown. I should probably begin this paragraph by explaining that I have not drunk the Hadestown kool aid. I have seen show, I did not like the show, but that is a matter for another post. Going into this set, I figured Anais would do a song from Hadestown and then take a few other Broadway tunes and put her folksy spin on them. That is not what happened. She sang 4 songs from Hadestown, and then a medley of songs from her newest album. To put it bluntly, her set was bad. Even if I liked Hadestown, which I do not, I would still have to be honest and say that she really missed the point of the festival. She was there to celebrate Broadway in general, not her show in particular. It'd be like Lin Manuel Miranda showing up and performing a whole bunch of songs from Hamilton. I mean, that'd be AMAZING, but I would have to be honest and admit that he would also have missed the point. What she should have done was a song from Hadestown, probably at the beginning, and then pick other Broadway songs. She could have told stories about showtunes that evoked special memories for her or demonstrated how certain showtunes might have folk elements hidden within them. What we didn't need was an ad for Hadestown/her latest album, but that was what we got. It was a real shame.

After Anais, Ariana DeBose took the stage. Thankfully, they gave her an introduction this time. Ariana's not a name yet, but that may change after Spielberg's West Side Story opens next year. (She's playing Anita) She kicked off her set with an RnB version of Shall We Dance from The King and I. Ariana is one of the artists who's been working on the R&H Goes Pop project on YouTube. Again, RnB is not my genre, but it was a good way to raise the energy there in the venue (as it at plummeted during the previous set) and to showcase her talent. Ariana has great tone, an impressive range, and real stage presence. So while I didn't enjoy the song itself, I was impressed with her performance overall. The next song she did was Invisible by Jason Robert Brown. It's a song off his latest album that he wrote for the Ronald McDonald House. This song was also done in an RnB style and, at this point, I started to worry that her whole set would be like this. Her next number was a medley of pop songs that dealt with cheating. It was fun, high energy, but again, it wasn’t Broadway. She could easily have used this to transition into Cell Block Tango or any other showtune about cheating (there are quite a few), but, alas, that wasn't the case. Instead, she covered Cold Play's Fix You. It was a great cover, don't get me wrong, but still not a Broadway song. At this point, I'd gone from starting to worry to full on worrying. Where were the showtunes? This is Elsie Fest, it's the one music festival for Broadway fans where their music is celebrated. That's why I love it so much and keep coming back year after year. So when her next number started off with All That Jazz from Chicago, I thought, “Finally!” but then she mashed it up with a few other Broadway/pop songs all sung by various “Divas” and my excitement diminished. Despite all of that, I held out hope that she'd close out her set with a song from West Side Story. It only made sense to get the crowd excited for next year's remake, right? Nope! Instead, she mashed up Donna Summer's Love to Love You Baby with Beyonce's Naughty Girl and I think an third song I didn't recognize, who knows? At that point, I was just glad to see her leave the stage; what a disappointment.

Gavin Creel was up next. He began his set with a mashup of hits from all the shows he's been a part of. I heard Put on Your Sunday Clothes, What Do I Need With Love, Ilona, Bad Idea, You and Me (But Mostly Me), and a moment of I've Got Life. This was a great way to kick things off; a reminder of all he's accomplished on Broadway thus far. Next, after a joke about always finding your light onstage, he performed Moving Too Fast from The Last Five Years, a personal favorite of mine. Then he did a song he wrote for a showcase he'll be putting on sometime next year. After that, he sat down at the piano to do Something Wonderful from the King and I. He ended his set with The Flesh Failures/Let the Sunshine In. Now, I knew he'd do something from Hair. I'd been hoping it'd be either Going Down (if you really want to hear someone gush about his version of that song, check out Seth Rudetsky's review on YouTube, it's delightful) or Where Do I Go?, but he chose the closing number instead. Not a bad decision, but it's not a song that can be performed solo. So, as it came time for the female lead's part in the song, I figured Cynthia or Ariana would come out to join him. That's the sort of thing that happens a lot at Elsie Fest. People will pop into each others sets to help out. Last year, famously, Will Roland, Grant Gustin, and Darren Criss teamed up to do Sincerely, Me during Grant's short set. And who could forget Aaron Tveit popping up during Leslie Odom Jr.'s set to duet with him on What You Own? But, for some unknown reason, Gavin tried to do the whole song by himself which just didn't work. So his strong set ended on kind of a sour note. I will say, Gavin's approach to crafting his setlist was perfect. He chose a good variety showtunes (old and new) and gave us a taste of what might be coming next for him. People working on set lists for next year ought to take notes. My only critique would be the lack of a female voice during his last number. Other than that, flawless.

Next, the cast of the upcoming show, Jagged Little Pill, took the stage. I had been looking forward to their performance as the show's been generating quite a bit of buzz since its out of town tryout last summer in Boston. At last year's Elsie Fest, both The Prom and Be More Chill performed two numbers a piece. So, with that blueprint in mind, I figured Jagged Little Pill would do maybe a lesser known Alanis song first and then end with a big hit. They started their set with Forgiven. It was a lesser known song that utilized the entire cast so it made for a strong opening number. I figured they'd end with something more well know like, You Learn or You Oughta Know. So I was genuinely shocked when they left the stage after only performing one song. What happened to their second song? Did they run out of time? Or, if for some reason they were only allowed one number this year, why did they choose such an obscure song? This was their chance to get the audience fired up for their new show, and by only performing Forgiven, they failed to do that. It was such a bizarre choice.

Cynthia Erivo, the lady of the hour, was up next. I'd missed her set at Elsie Fest 2016 so I was all the more eager to see which songs she'd choose to perform this time around. I figured she'd have to do one from The Color Purple, but the rest was anyone's guess. Would she go modern? Classic? A mix of both? There was no way of know, but I was excited to find out. She came out on stage, full of poise and grace, wearing these adorable cat-eye glasses and greeted the audience in such a sweet way. She seemed genuinely thrilled to see us all. She kicked off her set with Elvis's Can't Help Falling in Love. She sang it beautifully, but it was an odd choice. Then she sang Ain't No Way by Aretha Franklin. Again, she sang it flawlessly; this is Cynthia Erivo we're talking about. Everything she sings could be recorded and used as part of a master class in vocal performance. But where were the the showtunes? We were 0 for 2, and I was starting to get that worried feeling again. Then Darren came onstage with his guitar and accompanied her on Miss Celie's Blues by Quincy Jones. Also not a Broadway song, but it was featured in the film version of The Color Purple so it was a sort of nod to Broadway, I suppose. Then she did One Night Only. Finally, a showtune! Not one that I happen to like, but that point, I was desperate for something, anything. Next, she did a slowed down version of I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston, and I sighed internally. It's not that I don't like the song, I do, but it was yet another pop song. Clearly, no one had given the night's performers any sort of guidance so they were just singing, whatever. Cynthia followed up the Whitney Houston number with Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. If you're thinking to yourself, that's not a showtune either, you would be correct. The Lauper tune was how she ended her set. Again, like everything she performed, she sang it beautifully. My issue with her set was the overall lack of Broadway. This is Elsie Fest, a celebration of Broadway music. As a Broadway fan, that's what I want to hear. If I wanted to hear nothing but oldies, I'd go to an oldies music festival, if I wanted to hear all rock and roll, I'd go to one of those festivals, and so on and so on. I come to Elsie Fest for the showtunes, both old and new.

The last set before Darren's was Michael Feinstein's. Right off the bat, saving Michael's set for so late in the night was a very bad idea. He should have gone first or very nearly first when the audience was fresh and more forgiving. Michael is a very wealthly older gentleman. I don't know how he made his millions, but he was able to buy and open the cabaret club 54 Below so he's clearly got a few pennies tucked away. Maybe he flashed a few of those pennies to get such a prime timeslot, but that was a mistake. The audience was bored to tears by his set. Standing there while he performed I started to feel like the whole night up to that point had been a bit of a lousy dichotomy. Either listen to pop and RnB sung beautifully when all you want to hear are showtunes, or listen to showtunes sung poorly. I was standing there thinking, “Isn't there an option C? Didn't I pay to attend option C?” Yeah, Michael probably had a lovely voice back in the day, but that day has long since passed. He started his set with A Lot of Living to Do and then gave the audience a lecture on why Bye Bye Birdie is so important to the history of musical theater. Next, he did I Only Have Eyes for You from 42nd Street. He'd lost the crowd at that point. People were BORED. Then, after another lecture, he did the St. Louis Blues, badly. Then he put together I Don't Want to be Lonely Tonight with One Less Bell to Answer. The next song he did cannot, apparently, be googled so it will have to remain a mystery. Finally, at long last, he closed out his set with a Frank Sinatra medley. Darren came out to join him, which woke the audience up (some had literally laid down and gone to sleep). Looking back over his set, all 6 songs (5 too many if you ask me), I can't help but draw the conclusion that he gave the organizers of Elsie Fest an inordinate amount of money for a chance to perform. I hope they spend it wisely next year.

At long last, it was time for Darren's set. He had to go on 20 minutes late so we'll never know which songs he was forced to cut from the lineup. All I do know is that the 7 songs he chose were all winners. He kicked things off with a Glee song, Everybody Wants to Rule the World. It was excellent, pop at its finest. Next, he did Waving Through a Window and the crowd lost their minds. Fear not, I was right there with them; cheering and grinning like an idiot. If the crowed seemed keyed up during the Dear Evan Hansen number, they found a new stratosphere of joy to reach when he next performed Wait for It from Hamilton. It felt like suffering through all the bad sets that night had been worth it, almost. Next he pulled out his guitar and started to perform Wig in a Box and, I kid you not, I almost started crying. It had been a long night, full of disappointments, and Darren's set was pure perfection. He then paused, midway through the song, to bring out Lena Hall. What a treat! She sang her verse powerfully and then, Darren paused again to introduce John Cameron Mitchell, and the three of them brought the song home. I felt so euphoric at that point that I lack the words to properly describe it. What a historic moment! How do you follow something like that up? By taking things back to Hogwarts! First Jamie Lyn Beatty joined Darren on stage to perform Harry from AVPM. Next, Joey Richter and Lauren Lopez performed Granger Danger to riotous applause. Then, for the final number of Elsie Fest 2019, the entire Star Kid crew came out do do Goin' Back to Hogwarts. It was such a special moment; being in that crowd of fans singing along 10 years after the musical blew up online. After team Star Kid took their final bows, Darren thanked us and said he hoped to see us back next year.

Final thoughts, I hope to see him back next year too. But I also hope the organizers of Elsie Fest take a good hard look at how things went this year, and make some changes. First off, the festival needs to be held on a Sunday. To put on a festival, you need attendees and performers, and you're not going to get enough of either on a Saturday, you're just not. Second, they need to start booking talent now. They need names to bring people in. Because, even if fans are available, they're sure as heck not making the trip to see Michael Feinstein, someone who will be in a Spielberg film next year, and a kid from Pose. I'll even leave a few suggestions here: Ben Platt, Jonathan Groff, Lin Manuel Miranda, Jessie Mueller, Alex Brightman, Ethan Slater, Renee Elise Golsberry, Telly Leung, Eva Noblezada, George Salazar, Jenn Colella, etc. Third and finally, they need to have a good long think about what they want Elsie Fest to be. If they want it to remain a celebration of Broadway, then they need to book performers who are committed to that vision. If they want to change the vision, they need to let the audience know ahead of time so they can make an informed decision when buying tickets. To be perfectly honest, I felt a bit duped this year. I had paid for one thing but had gotten something else instead. So, there you are, Elsie Fest organizers. Do those three things between now and next October, and you'll have a successful festival in 2020.

#elsie fest #Darren Criss #HSM #anais mitchell #hadestown #ariana debose #gavin creel #jagged little pill #cynthia erivo #avpm #star kid #broadway #2019 #the lightning thief

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zaequeenoflazy · 5 years ago

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Writerblr Introduction (Re-do!)

Now that I’m getting more comfortable and used to being a part of the writerblr community, I definitely want to redo my introduction!

About Me

21 years old (’technically a 00′s baby since I grew up in that time and born on the back end of the 90′s); She/Her Pronouns; Clumsy and forgetful like whoa; Stressed TFO College Student; Loves to Talk, especially when it comes to things I’m passionate about; If I’m not asleep dreaming about story ideas and current WIPs, I’m daydreaming about them - there’s no in between; Music has been and still is an important part of my life

While I love reading and writing, I’m unfortunately terrible with reminding myself to finish either. And it makes me sad but also wanting to kick my own a**. BUT, when it comes to reading I at least push myself to keep reading because I personally believe the author deserves an honest read. My writing on the other hand can wait until I’m in my fifties and actually have time to do shit

Type of Blog I Run

Right now, it’s a mixture of reblogs of writing memes, writing tips and advice, and other posts from blogs I follow, but eventually it’ll also include “writing shenanigans” from stuff written from warm-ups or exercises, writing snippets, all that jazz~. Once I get the hang of the themes and find one that fits me (or one i’m most comfortable with and now how to friggin navigate myself), I’ll “tidy up” my blog and make it unique to me!

Genres of Writing and Reading

I’d like to continue experimenting with different genres to write in, but currently I’m working on WIPs in the fantasy, adventure, YA and NA fiction, with some romance and slice of life. Reading-wise, I’m open to reading any type of genre! My go-to would have to be fantasy and maybe YA fiction, leaning more towards NA fiction!

I’ve also worked on some fanfiction in the past, dabbling in the Bleach, BnHA, Devil May Cry, Katekyo Hitman Reborn, Kingdom Hearts, and Soul Eater fandoms. I went back to one longer fanfic from the Bleach fandom for several reasons:

I noticed a few plot points and even characters that could go beyond their original purpose. Reading back through the beginning, there was potential in my MC’s method of transporting to the Bleachverse that somehow ended up being a much more complex concept that I just came to love. I started doing research, going through forums, talking about it with close friends who also loved and even wrote fanfictions, all of it. And once I got into uni, that’s when I had a final version of the concept on lockdown.

The original was pretty much a self-insert instead of a story. Self-inserts could honestly be a great read if done properly, but I will say that it was my very first published fanfic and I was honestly so proud of the feedback I got. Said feedback fueled me into wanting to revamp the entire fanfic and use that as a basis for future works based on the concept I developed.

It was cringe-city in the early parts and I wanted to out-do myself

My writing style changed since then, and I genuinely wanted to see how different everything would be written in my current style!

The fanfic really felt like my FIRST story, and I personally want to give it and the fandom its in the justice they deserve. And again, I really do want to treat it as my first “serious” but still serious story. It’ll help me before I start working on my own original works.

WIPs

(I’ll eventually post a link to it once I have the first two or three chapters done)

Tadaima (The original is still posted on Fanfiction.net. If you’d like to read it, you can either shoot me a message or leave a reply asking for the link! Fair warning I haven’t updated that sucker in five years have mercy on my soul): Ever feel like you might belong in a different world? Different universe, even? Then it’s possible you were of the hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, switched with an alternate version of yourself before the age of five. Tori is one of them. And her respective universe is within Bleach.

The concept in mind involves different galaxies, e.g. Andromeda and Milky Way. The stars oversee phenomena that occur and with a threatening potential to cause rips, paradoxes, and other repercussions if someone wasn’t in their respective universe. It’s a doozy, and I’m working out the “Star Society of the Milky Way” and their involvement in Tadaima’s plot, but I honestly feel in love with this concept once I started doing research.

I’m hoping to have the first three chapters done maybe before October (a personal goal) and then the rest should be easier to write once the beginning is out the way. Until then, no official link for it yet!

But I am prone to writing snippets of character interactions to help with character relationships, development, etc., so I might add a tag for posts like that later.

WHEW! I did it! Pleasure to re-meet the writerblr community! Can’t wait to start making posts about my WIP and future ones. And to interact with more people in the writerblr community!

#writerblr introduction #writerblr

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overlooked-tracks · 2 years ago

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Why L.Y.D. Has Put Being a Music Educator in the Backseat

The following article has been posted on October 04, 2022 at 09:55PM:

An Overlooked Tracks News Finding: Here’s an article you might have overlooked. Having a partnership with NewsAPI, we try to catch music entertainment news for you to view, read and possibly enjoy. We will continue to find what’s available in the world of music entertainment, concert information and music releases. But obviously you – the listener and reader are the biggest source for news in your area, so if you can share with us. For right now, look at what we found for you:

“From The Rolling Stone – India Magazine Website – Why L.Y.D. Has Put Being a Music Educator in the Backseat”

The Mumbai/Munich vocalist, composer and DJ talks about juggling different roles and her soulful new song ‘Luna’

Mumbai/Munich-based artist Lydia Hendrikje Hornung aka L.Y.D.

Last week, Germany-bred and Mumbai/Munich-based artist Lydia Hendrikje aka L.Y.D. dropped her latest single, the R&B-meets-soul offering “Luna.” The track comes two years after the singer, DJ and music educator released her last song “Forgive.” In this interview with Rolling Stone India, L.Y.D. tells us about what she’s been up to recently, talks about the new song and updates us on what’s to come in the future.

We’ve seen you performing at gigs in India for a few years now, most recently at this year’s Jazz Day at Mumbai’s anitiSOCIAL. So, I’m curious to know what was it that brought you to India initially?

I initially came as a music educator about seven years ago actually. So, it’s been a long time since then. In the beginning, I was with True School of Music (TSM). I’ve always done a lot of music-related projects on the side. Then a couple of years after TSM, I started my own company so that I could stay and work as a musician on a freelance basis. Since then, I’ve just been gigging and started DJing too, a couple of years ago. So, it’s all kinds of different things.

Your last release was “Forgive,” which came out in 2020. What’s been happening since then?

Actually, I got super lucky in the pandemic to get two teaching jobs, which was of course the only way to survive then because there were no gigs. I had initially planned before the pandemic to teach much less and just do gigs and write my own music. Only now, like this year, did I really stop teaching. It was a hard decision for me. I’ve made the conscious effort to say, ‘Okay, you have to stop for a while just to get enough time.’ Because like with everything, it takes a lot of time to sit with your music, to produce it in the way that you like it, and just to get inspiration.

Talk to me about “Luna” and how it came together, as well as what the song means to you?

So, it’s quite dramatic and emotional. I’m basically currently shifting between Munich and Mumbai after six years. Last year, I took the decision to also start working again in Munich. It was sort of this decision, how you carry ideas inside of you, but then there’d be like a dramatic trigger for me to actually act upon it. So, [in this case it was] a breakup. I was living in Goa at the time and there was a cyclone, and it was also monsoon and it was another lockdown. So, a lot of things [were going on] and it was not the most warm, cozy atmosphere. And when that was combined with the breakup, I was just like, ‘I’m going to relocate for a while,’ and I moved to Germany.

I had honestly lived in Germany for 13 years because I lived in Holland before that to study, and then I was in India for six years. So, for me it was like, you know, you think it’s easy to reintegrate, but it’s not at all. And it was like the feeling of being completely uprooted. I mean, after a breakup and then you also don’t really feel at home there. You don’t really have your base yet and you don’t feel grounded. So, it was kind of like a mantra to believe that every day is just passing by and that’s why it’s ‘Luna.’ It’s basically a little bit like a lullaby to the moon. Give me some good sleep, give me some strength for the next day to get through it. So, it’s really that you just sometimes need to endure it and to typically just pass time to get somewhere where you’re feeling good again.

What was the production process for the song like?

I worked with a producer friend of mine, Luca Petracca from Italy. I write all my music and compose the lyrics and produce it, but then I always like to get some other ears on it. He worked with me a little bit under my sort of co‑production leadership, so I kind of already knew what I wanted. We worked together and we’re really good friends. He also used to be in India, and we’ve worked together before. So, he helped me out to, let’s say, solidly just to get it in the exact spot.

Read More Music Headllines

and can be found on the Overlooked Tracks website: https://ift.tt/CU627Ww. Check out more music news from Overlooked Tracks! Music Headline News, Music Profile

#Music #Musicislife #musica #MusicLover #podcast #podcaster

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theloniousbach · 4 years ago

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Week 33: Resist/s/urge: An Epilogue

[This entry concludes a weekly series of Facebook posts started as I sought to cope with going on lockdown. Though we may well be heading back or should be, I have ended the series. They are no more than ephemeral, but I archive this one as a record of the series.]

My title is meant to mash up “resist surge” and “resists urge” as I bring to an undoubtedly temporary end to this series which I started as we headed into lockdown. I used it to focus on how I was coping—how as a measure and how as methods. I shifted the heading every eight weeks as it seemed that we and I were entering new phases.

We are certainly entering a new “resist surge” phase as we seem to have had almost 100,000 new cases yesterday and deaths over 1,000 the day before and nearly that many yesterday. Most states are surging as is Europe and Latin America. So, despite the profound US leadership crisis, the problems are not even primarily of that character. It is not who is captain of the Titanic but that we are on poorly designed vessel sailing into a sea of icebergs.

It is also odd to suspend this series right as we end a US Presidential Election cycle where this issue is at the center. But I have easily “resists urge” to write about that. More challenging to resist is the urge to write about the broader, more fundamental politics underlying it. I have such opinions and lived them in my 20s and 30s with pride and no regrets. But this format is far from the avenue for those discussions—and, frankly, dear readers, even the young ones, for those discussions to matter very different social forces will be involved and lead them.

But I felt the series drifting in that direction as I have been settling into personal solutions to the profound challenges are living through. So, it’s time for a balance sheet and an epilogue for now. Again, there are new challenges/icebergs on the horizon.

But I started with addressing how I would keep body and soul together with attention, focusing on physical and mental health in the face of stress. I continued and continue with intermittent fasting and, rather than the pandemic 15, I have continued to get rid of that middle aged gut and my weight is down 3% (rather than up 10%). I am back in the range I was 30-35 years ago, but I am well aware that I don’t have the body of a 30 year old.

Still I might be as fit as I have ever been. From the start, I knew that daily exercise was key—and daily walks had been my prime exercise for year. They were and are important for getting out of the house. But I made daily yoga the focus witchin that first month. I’ve been doing yoga fairly regularly for over 20 years, since I gave up alcohol as part of a detox prompted by getting off Codeine 3 for a long term bout with kidney stones in 1999 that culminated in surgery. So I know my poses and had been using Yoga with Adrienne once or twice a week for several years. I ramped it up with her several annual 30 Days of Yoga series working my way through all of them. Now I’m a subscriber and follow mostly her daily classes. I have much better muscle tone, posture, and lung capacity.

So, with the body part of body and soul going, I took up soul in parallel.

I rolled with the punches with work and teaching fairly well, adjusting to the technology and tempo of remote work. I am productive in ways that I couldn’t/cannot be at the office and feel connected to students and colleagues. I get enough peopling in.

But, as someone important once said, life begins when this activity ceases, at the table, at the tavern, in bed. Now the sale of my labor power is complicated and elements of it truly are unalienated and the rest of it is certainly rewarding and meaningful. But it is alienated in the sense that, at 65 years of age, I can see the day looming when I can choose not to do it. Life begins when I do the things I doubled down on to keep soul together.

STORIES—At first it was quite hard to concentrate and I could not read anything with a long arc. So I read the Decameron, a story or two, but no more than three, a day until I had all 100. It was a story of plague and distraction, so it fit. I also discovered streaming plays at first from the National Theatre of London but soon the Globe and Stratford Festival. I homed in on Shakespeare, particularly lesser known plays. That welcome habit has fallen off and I have missed an October series of three Shakespeare plays from a National Theatre partner. But it is an acquisition that I hope to foster and grow.

I settled back into novels soon enough with mysteries mostly. Right now, I’m rereading Elsa Hart’s The Cabinets of Barnaby Mayne to teach and for a Webster University Book Club with my class and Elsa herself. Since she is someone I take my beginner’s questions about my retirement project book, it is useful to outline it on this reread as I took my note taking to a deeper, multiple purpose level. Recently I got caught up in the 1632 universe of alternate history. There have been several Anna Eliot/Charles Veley Sherlock Holmes/Lucy James pastiche novellas which are also good to study for my own project. I got back into mysteries by rereading, 35 years on, the Martin Beck series on the occasion of Maj Sjowall’s death. I also dipped into the Hogarth Shakespeare series to see how modern authors dealt with the very challenging source material of “The Taming of the Shrew” and “The Merchant of Venice” which were part of the theater season. There were also a couple of Jodi Taylor St. Mary’s/Time Police novels as I keep up on that series.

SCHOLARSHIP—My teaching, an unalienated part of my labor and the part that I will do after retirement from the day job, has been rewarding. I took Science in the News remote and asynchronous as we locked down. That worked in the moment as I could make COVID our subject matter (because that what we were all studying anyway) and could think about how the world was testing us far more than I as a teacher could. So I could relax about some of the mechanics. I had already built eight weeks of rapport with them, so that helped too. My current class happens synchronously but largely remotely. It’s topic—the role of place—has been a way to test some concepts (place as human constructed, therefore rich in history worth studying, and where community happens) that are part of a broader collaboration that may result in a conference.

As we were shutting down, I had made some significant changes to my “last” Edgar Anderson paper for the Annals of the Missouri Botanical Garden with Gar Allen’s suggestions. It received further polishing from the Annals editor and also pal Peter Hoch. So it is well and truly done, set to appear in the last quarterly paper issue of that renowned journal. While I have said it’s the “last” Edgar paper, gee, maybe I could write about his collaboration with Pioneer Hi Bred Seed Company and so might see if Agricultural History might want it.

Place and a historical mystery are where my intellectual interests will shift.

MUSIC—The biggest threat of the pandemic is/was the loss of live music. That very first weekend of lockdown I had the decision to not go taken out of my hands by cancellations of the SF Jazz Collective celebrating Miles Davis’s In a Silent Way and Sly Stone’s Stand at the Sheldon and Joe Russo’s Almost Dead (where I have invested my Deadhead energy as I don’t think I’ll see any original members again, though talk about “resists urge” pressures) at the Pageant. Those cancellations were sensible and necessary, but gee it would have been hard to make the decision to stay home.

The pull for live music is that strong.

But I’ve found it in ways that might even make for more opportunities.Jorma Kaukonen has done two dozen Quarantine Concerts, mostly solo with local friends from his Fur Peace Ranch operation, but Jack Casady came in for two shows in July and is around currently with the third show tonight. Kaukonen is not only musically formative, but so forthrightly himself that it is comfortable to be with him. I have similar warm feelings of connection with Larkin Poe who are extending the southern Americana blues roots etc tradition with slide guitar and killer vocals. They have done various streams, both from their spare bedrooms to empty venues with their band.

The piano has been key and, at first, the recitals under the auspices of the 92nd Street Y and Fred Hersch’s almost 40 Tunes of the Day were the start. The Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center and the BBC 4/Wigmore Hall collaboration (with the helpful YouTube algorithm kicking in) gave me more choices. Wigmore Hall is my go to source and through them I have seen Angela Hewitt wrap up her Bach cycle and Andras Schiff dig into the last three Beethoven Piano Sonatas. I have discovered key parts of the horn repertoire including the Brahms Trio and the Mozart and Beethoven Wind Quintets and some of the clarinet chamber works (watching Gassenheuer for example. I’ll click on most cello sonatas and ensembles and all piano trios. There is something about this listening that has paid benefits to my jazz listening, particularly more challenging out there works, as I can hear structural elements better.

Jazz is my go to though and there is a wealth of in real time performances as if we really were in New York and had to choose between the Jazz Gallery (got a membership), the Vanguard (an annoying platform but top drawer stuff), the Blue Note, Smoke, and Small’s (a place to check for up and comers but also, with a contribution, through their archive, people who upped and came on the scene). I have seen folks I wouldn’t have otherwise—George Cables, last night Oliver Lake/Reggie Workman/Andrew Cyrille, David Murray, Billy Hart with Mark Turner, Kenny Werner, Omer Avital. It goes on and on. I have lots of Couch Tour FB Note/Tumblr entries.

I was playing piano lots until we went on vacation, exploring how tunes fit together. Nothing ready to unplug the headphones even for Ellen, but rewarding. I have a new tune, “Everything Happens To Me” to understand, so I think that habit is returning. But I do sit at the piano frequently for my almost weekly discussions with a young singer/songwriter/marching band tuba player about music theory where we explore things together. They’re free to her and she still may be getting a bad deal but it’s part of keeping my body and SOUL together. Between her, Jorma, and my own inclination, I do play lots of guitar and that helps too.

But it is WRITING that has been my biggest solace. I come out of this experience comfortable saying I don’t just like to write and that I have a decent body of published work but I am a writer. It’s how I live in the world. It’s how I pin down my musical experiences for example.

But obviously this series itself about coping with the pandemic is how I have coped with the pandemic. I treasure that more of you have read these than I would imagine and I do take you all into account somewhat as I write these. I want them to be organized, appealing, and clear. But I am a writer and I would do this even if you weren’t here. But social media means that I’m not Franz Kafka or Emily Dickinson writing to make sense of the world but creating papers that they would just as soon be destroyed. That said, these are thoroughly ephemeral and this one will be the only one in the series curated in the sense that it’s on my Tumblr.

So, I am a writer who makes sense of the world by writing. The world will call me to write by being insensible. Very soon very likely. But this series has run its course. So as we resist the surge, I will resist the urge to do the same old thing.

Still I bet I see you soon.

#2020

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efurujr · 7 years ago

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Tourmates Jhené Aiko & Willow Smith Discuss Mushrooms, Magic & Industry Misogyny With Billboard

On a hot late-October evening at a rustic-chic Sunset Strip restaurant, Jhené Aiko lifts and considers a truffle fry before nimbly popping it into her mouth. Next to her, Willow Smith grabs four and crams them all in at once, so engaged in a discussion with Aiko about fantastical art that she exclaims, mid-bite, “Magic is all around us!” Aiko nods: “I learned that on mushrooms.” Smith fervently nods back: “Mother Nature did it for a reason: ‘Here’s something to woke ya!’”

Starting Nov. 14, Smith will support Aiko on her North American Trip Tour, named after Aiko’s latest album (and its accompanying short film), a sprawling psychedelic R&B concept piece about overcoming grief that reached No. 1 on the Top R&B Albumschart. Willow’s surprise second LP, The 1st -- released on Halloween, which is also her birthday -- swirls proggy compositions with left-field folk and soul.

Together, Aiko and Smith seem to embody a new breed of modern hippie: Aiko, 29, a self-proclaimed “NPR girl” in a loose sky-blue frock, steeping her chamomile tea bag with guru-like calm, and Smith, 17, vibrating with energy, in bell-bottom jeans and a black tee that reads in white text, “Got consent?”

But despite their age gap -- and the fact that one woman has been a single mother for nine years and the other is, well, the teenage daughter of Will and Jada Pinkett Smith -- Aiko and Smith have much more in common than an interest in the supernatural. Both were born, raised and home-schooled in Los Angeles. Both were signed as children and marketed to the mainstream -- Aiko as an adjunct member of R&B boy band B2K, and Smith as an actress (2007’s I Am Legend), then as a kiddie-pop star with 2010’s “Whip My Hair,” which peaked at No. 11 on the Billboard Hot 100.

Then, with money and fame hanging in the balance, they each walked away. Aiko took about six years off before starting an alt-R&B solo career flexible enough to allow for esoteric side projects like Twenty88 -- her duo with boyfriend Big Sean, whose self-titled album Aiko has described as “combining stuff like robots and sex” -- and a forthcoming poetry book titled Trip. Willow returned in 2015 with avant-garde soul album ARDIPITHECUS, and often posts genre-flouting collaborations on SoundCloud and a now-defunct YouTube channel (“Frequencies by Willow”) with everyone from The Internet’s Syd to her brother Jaden.

As plates of pasta arrive, Aiko and Smith dive into a wide-ranging conversation, often completing each other’s sentences as they discuss their respective decisions to, as Smith puts it, “take control of not just my music, but my life -- if shit goes south, it’s my fault, but if it goes good, that’s mine too,” and affirming their vows as artists to, in Aiko’s words, “usher in new ways of thinking.”

You last toured together in 2014. Willow, you were 14. What was that like for you?

Willow Smith: Coming out of the “Whip My Hair” days, that was the first time I’d ever toured with artists I listen to [in addition to Aiko, Syd and SZA]. I’d started playing guitar, and that tour really solidified: “OK, I want to be a live musician, to have a music career, for real.” Being around people who were so confident and so set in their artistry was a huge step in the direction of understanding who I really am.

Jhené Aiko: We did that for each other. I’d never considered myself a performer, but now I’m super into how I present these songs. This time, I want to take the audience on a journey, have them feel what I went through -- I want them to think they’re tripping balls. People like Willow and me, we’re super connected to this music and our message. We really want to change the world.

Jhené, what made her right for that tour three years ago?

Aiko: It’s crazy because just following her career and social media, I felt connected to her, especially seeing her talk about being an indigo and a star seed. I saw so much of myself in her.

Smith: Yeah. I’ve followed your music from the beginning and always loved how angelic and sultry your voice is. So when I heard that you wanted me on, I was like, “Whoaaa!”

Wait, let’s rewind a second. What’s this “indigo” thing?

Aiko: So if you look up in the night sky and see this light that’s flashing colors, that’s Sirius. It’s a star system, and it looks like there’s a party going on. What I like to believe in my dreams and imagination is, there’s some of us on Earth that come from there, indigos and star seeds, who are hyper sensitive to feelings and seasons, and in tune with each other without even trying --

Smith: Or even knowing. I’ve read and experienced that many indigos struggle with addiction and heartbreaking circumstances because this reality is not familiar to them. The density of the third dimension is so heavy on their soul, and they yearn to be light, to be in the stars. So you can --

Aiko: Free yourself from the physical and just be pure energy. I started singing when I was really young too, and touring when I was 12, so those were things I would think about and wanted to talk about, but I was home-schooled, so I didn't have many friends on the same level.

Willow, you were home-schooled too, right?

Smith: All my life, except from age 12 to 13 when a family friend was like, “Come to school with me. I’ll help you out.” But I live in the mountains, away from the city, far from people. It was literally me and Jaden in nature hitting cactuses with sticks, so school was really overwhelming. I was that girl: backpack half open, running through the halls, stressed. So I got to see firsthand how it shapes your psyche -- like how you’re always looking for approval. That’s the hugest thing.

Aiko: I started home school in the middle of seventh grade. I loved schoolwork, but the social part was too much for me. I’m a hermit, still. My family goes out, and I’m like, “I’ll be home staring at the wall ’cause I like it.” The past couple years working on Trip, I’d go on road trips or to festivals by myself, meet other wanderers. That’s why we’re doing this tour -- we’re on that wavelength.

I get the sense that there’s something deeper than a big sis, little sis thing going on here...

Aiko: Willow’s a being that has been here before, obviously. I don’t get age. I mean, I have a 9-year-old daughter who has this pure knowledge, and I learn so much from her. I feel like this is my 20th life because from the first moment I can remember, I’ve been over the kid things.

Smith: Yeah, I understand. I don’t know what it is. I felt that way too.

Have you given any thought to how you might spend downtime together on this tour?

Aiko: I want to make music. I’ll have a studio on my bus, and she can come through with her guitar. I’ve also been doing a group meditation the day of a show. I’m reading The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success by Deepak Chopra, and he talks about setting your intention. Mine is to calm people, but I get really nervous onstage.

Smith: What I think is really going to happen on this tour is, like, a feminine energy super bomb. This tour is going to be so potently feminine it’s going to warm your heart.

You’re both into poetry and philosophy. What about a book exchange?

Aiko: A book club!

Smith: I have always wanted to be in a book club. My entry would be The Red Tent by Anita Diamant. It’s about these sisters who lived a long time ago and this tradition of when the women menstruated, they’d all go into the red tent together. They’d have these crazy conversations and spiritual ceremonies and shamanic experiences. It’s about female camaraderie in terrible times.

Aiko: Mine is Peace Is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh. He’s a poet and monk from Vietnam. He tells beautiful stories to get across very simple messages. Like how people get agitated in traffic -- he teaches you to take each red light as a chance to breathe deeply.

I can see you two sharing music, too. Who’s an artist more people should know about?

Aiko: Michael Franks, a jazz artist from the ’70s. His voice is like butter, and his writing? So clever. I love jazz because of the range of emotion it can take you through in one track. I’m a fan of John Mayer for the same reason. For Trip, he came in with, like, 50 guitars, and for hours he was coming up with song ideas and melodies one after the other, nonstop.

Smith: Cameron Graves. He plays with Kamasi Washington, and his Planetary Princealbum is the epitome of each musician showing their uniqueness. Not a lot of my peers are open to music that doesn't have vocals.

Aiko: That’s my favorite. I think we should do a jazz album.

Smith: Let’s! Honestly, we can get a bunch of musicians in a room and just vibe out.

You were both signed young and could have followed very traditional career paths, but you took time off and came back to the business on your own terms. What was the moment you decided: “This is my own trip?”

Smith: When I said no to Annie [in 2013]. The script was written, we had paid people, the production was going to happen. A lot of people were putting pressure on me, and I was like, “I have to take the control.” That was scary, standing up to executives who were like, “What? We spent this amount of money. Mmm, you’re doing it.” And I was like, “No, I’m not going to. Sorry.”

Aiko: I was turning 16, and my label contract was up. Everyone assumed I was going to re-sign, but I knew that wasn't who I was going to be as an artist -- I wasn't satisfied singing songs other people wrote. Then when I was 20, I got pregnant. I became a waitress at a vegan cafe but was going through all these new things as a mom and wanted to make music about it. So I quit, and from then on, it was like, “No, this is my vision. You have absolutely nothing to do with this art.”

As young women of color in an industry that is hard on women and on people of color, where do you think that surge of confidence came from?

Smith: You have to see other black women doing them. That’s the only way. I went on tour with my mom when I was Jhené’s daughter’s age, and it was so empowering and beautiful.

Aiko: I never saw a distinction between a man and a woman. My grandparents and my mother were great examples of men and women, and they taught me equality. So I would fight with boys and wear my cousin’s clothes. I would do whatever I wanted, and that’s where I still stand today.

Smith: If you truly believe in equality, you know it up here. [Taps forehead.] It’s how you think. There’s a lot of women doing their thing, expressing themselves in ways I feel weren't possible before. At the same time, a lot of men still spit misogyny like it’s nothing. It’s a forever journey.

Women have been banding together lately to expose predators in the entertainment industry…

Smith: Yeah, and our president. Ahhhhhh! The creepiest dude of all!

Aiko: I’m pleased people are brave enough to come forward, because it encourages others. I’ve always been protected. My mom was my manager. Now my older sister is. Even when I’ve been in sketchy environments, someone always had my back. That’s important. In these stories these women are telling, there’s no real friends around. I have definitely experienced male ego...

Smith: And I’ve ran into situations with white men specifically who are like, “Black girls don’t usually look like you,” or, “Whoa, your hair is lying down. That’s crazy, you actually look pretty!”

What do you want the future of young women in art to look like?

Smith: I don’t want there to always be this stigma of the “female” artist. “Oh, what does it feel like to be a female doing something?” That hurts me.

Aiko: Because of that, a lot of young girls compare themselves to others. Growing up, people wanted me to do choreography. If it wasn't for a supportive mother, I would have been put in the same boot camp. You were born into your own lane -- don’t let anyone push you into theirs. I’m not going to stop evolving until I’m 80. Like, I want to go back to school for astrophysics.

Smith: The arts and the sciences! That’s my whole life. In the future, I think there’ll be a new kind of person who does both. Like... an imagineer!

Aiko: See? I mean, clearly, she’s in her own lane.

Written By Chris Martins / Photography By Nate Hoffman

#jhene aiko #willow smith #billboard #spirituality #interview #article #text #171109 #2017

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findmyhouse · 7 years ago

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EMERSON, LAKE & PALMER - WORKS, VOLUME 2 (1977): 6/10

(Originally posted on 17 October, 2017)

The second Works album (released eight months after the first one) is really strange. It feels even less like a coherent whole than its predecessor, because Works, Volume 2 is less a real album and more a collection of outtakes. Most of the tracks on this record feel like they could have fit in perfectly on Works, Volume 1 and were even recorded at the same time but didn’t make the cut (presumably because they ran out of disc space with that one). Other tracks even hail back to the sessions for Brain Salad Surgery, including a track called… “Brain Salad Surgery”. Finally, “Barrelhouse Shakedown” and “I Believe In Father Christmas” had previously been released as solo singles by Keith and Greg, respectively, and appear here without any alterations. For this reason, Works, Volume 2 is often dismissed as a throwaway or stop-gap album, but while I think it’s certainly quite pedestrian compared to ELP’s earlier work, I still think such a classification is unfair. Like Volume 1, this album is just a mixed bag of moments that are bound to bore you and moments that are worth your time (many of which even exceed most of Volume 1 in beauty).

This album isn’t strictly divided into separate parts for each band member but most of the tracks still feel like they’re courtesy of one specific musician rather than the band as a whole. For example: “Watching Over You” and the aforementioned “I Believe In Father Christmas” are clearly Greg’s songs: both are relatively straight-forward pop numbers, but they're actually better than what he put on Works, Volume 1: they’re less dragged out and they’re a lot more sparsely arranged, which actually helps make them seem more authentic (at least in comparison to the bombastic, out-of-place orchestral arrangements which made the banal pop stuff like “Lend Your Love To Me Tonight” seem all the more pathetic). “Watching Over You” is basically just a gentle acoustic guitar ballad; certainly no “From The Beginning”, but still good enough and not pretending to be more than what it is.

“Bullfrog” and “Close But Not Touching” were written by Carl and follow the same big band jazz style as on “Food For Your Soul” from the last album. Both take influence from military march tunes, with “Bullfrog” sporting a snare-heavy main theme with a catchy main melody played by Carl himself on the marimba, and “Close But Not Touching” opening and closing with a Yankee Doodle-like flute theme. Carl also hands a solo spot to his fellow band members on both tracks: Greg plays a mad guitar solo on “Close But Not Touching”, and on “Bullfrog” Keith plays a synth solo with the same steel drum-like tone as on “Karn Evil 9”.

Now, Keith is the only one whose contributions here differ notably from those on the last album: There’s no classical music here. Instead, he plays a bunch of cute ragtime tributes on honky-tonk piano with a brass section backing him up, including a cover of Meade Lux Lewis’s “Honky Tonk Train Blues” and his own “Barrelhouse Shakedown”. Finally, he plays a really nice version of “Show Me The Way To Go Home”, another hit song from the 1920s (which you may recognize from the movie Jaws), although Greg manages to steal the show on that one with a lovely vocal performance.

All of the remaining songs do feature the boys working more together as a group, but this time there’s not that much to say about them, so it’s like a complete reversal of Volume 1. Out of the songs taken from the 1973 sessions, “When The Apple Blossoms Bloom In The Blah Blah Of Your Bleepity Bloop” is just a pointless jam, while “Brain Salad Surgery” is pretty funny, though probably a little too inessential to be featured on the album which was named after it. But all of the other tracks are completely forgettable: some generic blues stuff, an orchestral version of “Maple Leaf Rag” (why?)… Let me just end by saying that if you want to see a completely different side of these musicians, you might find this album quite interesting and enjoyable, but if you want to hear more grandiose prog in the vein of “Tarkus” or “Karn Evil 9”, don't bother with this album because it doesn’t have what you’re looking for.

Although the Works albums aren’t bad, they clearly present a band in crisis: a band that can no longer agree on a unified vision or direction, but also cannot manage to truly excel in the new directions pursued by the individual band members. And as much as it pains me to admit it, these two albums may also illustrate the inherent limitations of Emerson, Lake & Palmer as a unit. When you think about it, all of the previous studio albums followed a certain formula: a number of (usually lengthy) prog epics with emphasis on synths and organs, along with some rocky adaptations of classical compositions and at least one introspective Greg Lake ballad. That’s not to say of course that they didn’t make truly great music within this formula; Brain Salad Surgery arguably marked the perfection of the formula. However, the moment when the band tried to escape from this formula was the moment when they set their own downfall in motion. ELP would only go downhill from here on, as was painfully evidenced by their notorious follow-up album which I’ll hopefully discuss soon. Prepare for a riot.

Best song: a tough call but it’s probably BULLFROG

#ELP #Progressive rock

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thesimplyluxuriouslife · 5 years ago

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266: 10 Activities to Savor Pre-Holidays in November

Here in the states, we may officially wait for the holiday energy to be set free, but by the time November arrives, it can easily begin to feel as though the holidays have begun. Whether that is due in part to marketers and shops shifting from Halloween on October 31st to red and green everything on November 1st, or an earnest desire for the holidays to begin by the public, I cannot quite be sure, but what I do know is that I love the three weeks leading up to Thanksgiving of which I am calling the "pre-holiday" season.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the holiday time between Thanksgiving and New Year's, but during the first third of November (Thanksgiving falls on the fourth Thursday in November which this year is quite late in the month), I just linger with absolute contentment.

Today I would like to share with you 10 activities or ideas for savoring the pre-season period as the year that is begins to wind down to celebration and festive gathering.

1.Set the mood in your home without pulling out the decorations

From placing simmering spices on the stovetop to fill the house with luscious, warm and citrus as well as spice-filled flavors (check out my simple recipe here) or simply switching the wreath on the front door to an autumn theme (if you have not done so already), protect, yet acknowledge this time of year that is truly meant to be savored after a summer and early fall of harvest as we gear up for the bustle of the holiday season.

2. Put the yard and exterior of the home to bed for the winter

Depending upon where you live and when the temperatures begin to drop, take this time to be outside and winterize the home, tend to the plants that need to be mulched and trim the perennials, as well as plant the new bulbs that will emerge in the spring. Tending to the exterior of your home will enable you to sleep soundly at night during the snowstorms and frigid temperatures knowing all is taken care of so that you can simply enjoy the winter wonderland that appears out the front door.

~Trusted British gardener Monty Don shares a worth-keeping monthly list of what to tend to in the garden during the month of November.

3. Assess your fitness routine and improve now to feel your best during the holidays

When we are conscious of the benefit of a good and regular fitness routine as well as a well-balanced eating regimen, we are more likely to do well during the holidays. Establish or cement what is working well and plan now to figure out how you will maintain your ability to stay active and eat well even if you are traveling or removed from your regular environment.

4. Make a favorite fall dessert or main dish for you and the household just because it's fall.

From Apple Tart Tatin (check out my recipe and video tutorial below) to butternut squash and apples roasted to perfection for a lovely side dish with pork chops. (The image at the top of the post is a favorite fall dessert inspired by Julia Child - look for my adaptation to be shared in season 3 of the cooking show!)

~Quick recipe for roasted butternut squash and apples: Combine cubes of butternut squash and apples on a parchment lined sheet pan, preheat the oven to 400 degrees, toss the squash and apples with extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper, roast for 25 minutes, remove from the oven and enjoy!

5. Make sure you have something to look forward to just after the holidays wrap up - something simple, low-key and maybe just for yourself.

6. Have fun with fall foliage - arrangements, playing in the leaves, taking photos of unique compositions that catch your eye

https://www.instagram.com/p/B4qMNBZgx64/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

7. Take advantage of weekend sales as businesses clear out inventory for the holiday season.

Currently many business are having sales during our long weekend here in the states, but that is just a start to what is to come. Whether you are beginning to shop for gifts for the holidays or have a list of items you love but are waiting for a sale, be sure to take advantage if the price is right and the item is exactly what you want. As I shared yesterday, I am looking for a fresh holiday wreath for my front door, and was pleased with Williams-Sonoma' 20% off sale.

As well, examine your fall, winter and holiday wardrobe: Do you have what you need? Are there any gaps? The fall collections are about to go on drastic reduction and scooping up your preferred and needed items at great prices will make you and your budget quite happy, not to mention ensure you look your best and feel comfortable going about your day.

8. Forage for the arts and literature and culture you love

On Wednesday of this week I will share a list of books, podcasts, television shows and art exhibits to enjoy during the winter season, but what I love most about these three weeks leading up to the holidays is that I cozy inside my house far more than I would during warmer weather and pull out a book (or two, or three) and let the time pass by. The same happens when I discover a great show or when I toodling about the house or walking the boys while listening to a podcast in which I learn something but lifts my spirits or ensures my day will be better after listening to it by either teaching me something or deepending my understanding on something that matters.

Perhaps why I enjoyed my visit to Portland last weekend so much and stopping (and lingering) at Powell's Independent Book Store was because books and late fall and winter, along with the shorter days means more time to get lost in a book. Of course reading is savoring year-round, but there is all the more reason to further our knowledge and let ideas percolate giving them time to germinate so that they can bloom fully when spring arrives and summer follows.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B4ZHszngxkf/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

9. Get cosy often and lose track of time

At the foundation of these three weeks is time without apology for self-care. Self-care needs to happen year-round and on a regular basis most certainly, but since we know what awaits in the near future, no matter how much we greatly look forward to it, we can enjoy it all the more with a fully rested self.

As 2019 began, the first Petit Plaisir of the year was the book Cosy: The British Art of Comfort by Laura Weir. Released in early November 2018, her timing was not on accident. The cosy/cozy season truly feels as though it begins with November's arrival.

"Cosiness, for me, is radio 4, slow-cooking, everyday Sunday supplement, long breakfasts, long movies, long phone calls, big jumpers, tangled limbs in a bed or sofa. I enjoy those things even more now that I know indulging them doesn't mean I'm missing out on the big party of life happening somewhere outside and that life can be just as wild and precious in the quiet as it is in the noise."

—Laura Weir from her book Cosy: The British Art of Comfort

10. Find time to be with yourself, not just introverts researchs finds

~image via The New York Times~

In a recent New York Times article, research was shared that "valuing solitude doesn’t really hurt your social life, in fact, it might add to it". Why?

With the new and different, wanted and unwanted people you will see and spend time with during the holiday season, there will undoubtedly be swells of emotion, good and perhaps not so good. Knowing how to regulate our emotions will help us navigate what has the potential to be a truly joyous time of year well and most beneficially not only for our own mental health but those around us. And it is with giving ourselves time to be alone that we learn to regulate our emotions.

Emotional Intelligence (EQ) is something we have talked about often here on the blog, podcast and in TSLL's 2nd book, and continued research finds that mastering this skill has life enhancing qualities. By giving ourselves time to learn how to monitor our emotions which when we are alone with ourselves and our thoughts expectedly will provide plenty of practice until we learn how to calm the tide and just be present, we give ourselves an awesome gift. Perhaps the best give to give during the holiday season, non? ;)

So cosy up in your favorite spot, turn on a lovely playlist that will wash over you and just do something that you love. At this very moment I am snuggled up with Oscar by my side in my oversized, very well-used chaise armchair, the jazz fills the house and I am watching the many birds dance around the birdfeeder determining who will have the opportunity to snack for a moment. The emotions are certainly swimming about, especially after the week my family has had with the loss of someone truly special to all of us, but because of much practice spending time with myself, I savor such moments and am thankful to have them.

May these three weeks, this "pre-holiday" season prior to the holiday festivities be joy-filled and provide many moments of contentment.