#the life where she meets an art teacher who becomes a prominent figure to help her realise her dreams

[septemberjournals]

🧊 it’s probably gonna go on a very long “to read” list but GIMME 😆

Hii<3 I get it, lol😶

I would recommend you, 'your letter' and 'kakukaku shikajika' !!

Your letter is a perfect healing summer read. It's one of my favourite manwhas.

Kakukaku shikajika is personally one of the best mangas I've read. It is an autobiography of akiko higashimura. (Mangaka of Princess jellyfish)

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg ooo the lore deepens

Heads Up- Part 10 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

With Joseph going to university every couple of days, and Suzi visiting often but still usually sleeping at her own home, there were days that Caesar was left home alone.

Joseph had invested in extra door locks to keep him safe, makeshift mini-elevators to help the bodiless bust get up and down the kitchen and living room tables, and put up canvasses and customized paint holders to encourage his fondness for painting to pass the time.

Caesar was a great painter-- especially for someone with no hands.

With much practice in holding a paintbrush in his mouth, something that Caesar found much easier as opposed to colored pencils that broke when pressed too hard, Joseph's artistic masterpieces had begun producing masterpieces of his own. Simple, abstract scribbles at first, but over time began to make art of the things he saw around the house. Still lifes of tables, furniture, windows, in his own crude, mouth-scribbly style.

Today was one such day. Joseph was away at the art school, working on projects of his own. And Suzi hadn't called for today, and probably wasn't coming for a while.

And so Caesar spent his time painting. But he was tired of the things within the confines of the apartment, and opted for a new medium.

Pulling the blinds of the window open with his teeth, Caesar exposed the view of the vacant lot behind Joseph's house. One that was somewhat still a wild region, overgrown with grasses, with a few sparse trees, and further into the horizon, the skyline of the big city with towering skyscrapers that seemed like mere toys from such a distance.

A smile crept across Caesar's face. This seemed like a perfect muse for another painting.

And as Joseph created art with a purpose, he wondered if this was his.

---------

Suzi looked over at the bag Joseph had given her.

She was in her own home, an apartment somewhat smaller than Joseph's. The post-graduate artist hadn't really done very much in the past year, and her house reflected it: it was quite a mess, with many boxes, items and inexplicable odds and ends cluttering every tabletop and shelf, a problem compounded by the artist's somewhat scatterbrained nature at times.

She sat on her couch, typing away at her laptop. She'd been very curious about the past few days about where exactly that design on the bag came from-- definitely a Mesoamerican influence, perhaps some sort of mystical trinket from long ago.

It had been the bag that Joseph had found in his attic, that had contained the lump of clay that had become Caesar. As Joseph had said before, it didn't seem like a particularly special material at first: yet now, given that it literally was alive, there certainly was something unique about it. Especially given that all other clay they attached to Caesar, in their failed attempts to give him a body, had invariably remained lifeless and cold.

And as she scrolled through pictures on her laptop, she happened upon something extraordinary.

A site cataloguing local folklore, with details that seemed oddly familiar.

Legends told in ancient Central America about sacred soils that could channel strange energies. One myth, in particular, caught her attention: a tale of a talented artist who, in her sheer devotion to detail in her work, managed to usher in spirits of inspiration to take new life into her work.

Idols that harbored the souls of the ancestors that led them to convene with their successors generations on.

Suzi scoffed. This seemed like strange superstitious magic, wasn't it?

Yet deep down, as much of a mature, rational woman as she was, a small part deep within her had always believed in magic, wished to believe. Perhaps it was the hopeful, wide-eyed child within her now enveloped in the shell of a responsible adult, that sometimes shone through when she was around people she was comfortable, like Joseph, and now, Caesar too.

Perhaps that was why she wasn't too surprised about Caesar when she first met the living sculpture in Joseph's apartment a couple of weeks earlier.

Because a bit of her had always believed in magic-- and Caesar's very existence served only to confirm it.

---------

Joseph strolled around the art gallery of the university, beholding in wonder at the vast, museum-like halls bearing the works of its many previous students.

Statues, sculptures, paintings and murals of all shapes and styles adorned the walls, platforms and shelves of nearly every corner of the building's interior. Everything was art, they said, and the masterpieces certainly reflected it.

And as much as Joseph was in awe of the beauty of the gallery, something made him uneasy, as he looked at them, especially the sculpted statues that resided in glass cases, carved in eternal repose with their lifeless eyes gazing blankly into empty space.

Would this have been Caesar's fate?

Joseph couldn't bear the thought of Caesar, his roommate, his friend and companion, spending the rest of his existence like this.

What kind of life would that be?

Joseph's disturbed thoughts were interrupted when he bumped into somebody, as he was too preoccupied with the art to look where he was going.

"Oh, I'm sorry, young man," said an old, throaty voice, with a prominent Italian accent. "You need to be careful around here too."

"Apologies, Mr. Zeppeli," Joseph said awkwardly, with an uncertain scratch of his head.

Mr. William Zeppeli was one of the oldest professors in the university, and had long taught the class on the subject of three-dimensional art. Instantly recognizable by his trademark moustache and top hat, Mr. Zeppeli had mentored Joseph in his first year in the university, and was quite familiar with him.

"I'm glad to see you've come so far, Mr. Joestar," Mr. Zeppeli said with a pat on Joseph's back. "I believe you would be graduating this year, are you not?"

Joseph smiled proudly. "I sure will be, sir!"

Mr. Zeppeli gave a warm chuckle. "That's the spirit!" he said. "So, the final project is due next month. What is your grand masterpiece?"

"A bust sculpture," Joseph said impulsively, before realizing he probably shouldn't have said it out loud.

A proud, yet solemn smile emerged on Mr. Zeppeli's weathered features. "Come with me," he told Joseph.

He led Joseph towards the hall of statues, where Joseph was amazed to see a vast array of clay figures, of people, objects and places, all impressively detailed even for him. Sculptures of birds in flight, each feather intricately carved in astonishing perfection. Miniature models of famous landmarks around the world, such as a replica of the Colosseum in Rome. Faces of people molded in clay, so expressive they seemed they almost could speak.

Something that, at this point, wouldn't have surprised Joseph anymore.

"He would have loved to meet you," Mr. Zeppeli said woefully. "I've seen some of the sculptures you've made before and they remind me of him so much."

"W-who?" Joseph asked, curious at the person Mr. Zeppeli had referred to.

"My grandson," replied the old teacher with a bittersweet note in his voice.

"He went to this school a decade ago, and was one of the best students this institution had ever known. All these, the figures you see before you, are his creations, and I...I am proud to call him my grandson," said Mr. Zeppeli, as he wiped away a tear.

The old professor gestured to a small sign next to the case displaying his grandson's masterpieces. "He was a jolly fellow, if not without a strange sense of humor. You two might have become friends."

Joseph looked closely at the sign. There was something very familiar.

And as its contents sank in, his heart nearly stopped.

"IN MEMORY OF ANTHONIO ZEPPELI (1983-2008), GONE BUT FOREVER REMEMBERED," said the caption.

But what captured his attention, and struck him to the very center of his being, was the picture of the late artist displayed on the sign.

He had no pink cheek marks, and he, of course, had a body.

But he was, unmistakably and otherwise identically, Caesar.

"Is--is this him?" gasped Joseph in disbelief.

"I guess you'd recognize that face," Mr. Zeppeli gave a faint laugh. "Remember that statue of Julius Caesar displayed here, several years ago? He based it off himself. That isn't even remotely close to what the real Julius Caesar looked like, he was a talented, if strange, boy who found it amusing to stick his own likeness onto his art."

Julius Caesar, Joseph thought. His reference.

He felt a strange sensation, as if his whole world was suddenly shattered, and was slowly piecing itself back together like a jigsaw puzzle, into a new reality that seemed way too fateful for his peace of mind.

"Uh...uh...I just suddenly remembered I have a class to go to," said a flustered Joseph, quickly conjuring up an alibi. "See you later, Mr. Zeppeli!" he said, and promptly dashed off in a hurry.

-------

"Jojo? You would not believe what I just found," Suzi said, as she entered Joseph's house later that evening.

"Well, you wouldn't believe what I found out today," Joseph replied, with a shell-shocked look on his face.

Suzi was taken aback. "Looks like you've seen some serious stuff," she gasped. "Y-you go first."

"Do you know a certain Anthonio Zeppeli?" Joseph asked her.

"As in...the student who died a while back?" she said. "I've...I've heard of him, he was talked about a couple of times by my friends one year ahead of your batch. And about...what happened to him."

Caesar, who at just the right moment, had been bouncing by, was intrigued. "Happened to who?" he asked, pausing in his tracks.

Suzi sat down on the sofa. "They say he was a student from a few batches prior. He was a talented sculptor who was great at working with clay, marble, concrete..."

"Yeah, I've seen his stuff," interjected Joseph.

"Well, the thing is, they told he had been commissioned to carve a mural into a hotel's front lobby, nearly ten years ago," she told. "He was perched up on a ladder, chipping away at the wall, when suddenly, he broke a support on a stone ornament, shaped like a cross--"

"--and he was so startled when it began to topple, that he stumbled right off his ladder, fell to his death...and then the stone cross fell and landed right on top of him."

Joseph winced. That sounded like a terrible way to go.

"Well, there's something you wouldn't believe," Joseph said, pulling out a yearbook he'd borrowed from the library. Look at his face."

Suzi leaned closer for a look, and gasped in shock.

"I'd never seen what he'd looked like, but...but..."

"Caesar. It's you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Caesar exclaimed. "I can't see anything from down here!"

Suzi picked up the bust with some effort and rested him onto the tabletop. He hopped over to the book to check out what all the commotion was about--

--and was silent for an uncomfortably long time.

"See, this is what I was gonna tell you," Suzi said. "I'd been reading on the design on the bag that you found Caesar's clay in. There were legends in ancient Mesoamerica that artists who were talented enough would be able to usher in spirits of predescessors into idols of a special sacred clay to serve as inspiration," she said.

"And maybe, just maybe, Caesar is alive-- because he is Anthonio Zeppeli's soul."

"So am I a ghost?!" Caesar screamed in terrified confusion, hopping backwards a few bounces from sheer terror. "I'm a dead man in a clay head?!" he cried, disturbed by the revelation.

"More like a reincarnation," Suzi explained. "The legends told that they became spirit guides to their creators, that they held the wisdom and knowledge of the past, but remembered little of their past lives-- rather, they carried over some traits, but were their own, unique person."

"Did they have bodies?" Joseph asked right off the bat.

"Yes... you were just unlucky to not have enough clay," she added.

Caesar groaned in frustration.

"You know, I honestly wouldn't have believed some ancient mythology," Joseph said, "but given I've been living with a talking, walking sculpture--"

"Not exactly walking," Caesar corrected.

"...er, bouncing, sculpture for the last couple of weeks, I'd take any explanation at this point." he admitted.

"I think he chose you, Joseph," Suzi said with a smile.

Caesar looked at Anthonio's picture in the yearbook, and saw only himself. The same green eyes, blond hair, unmistakable face. He lacked the pink cheek patches, however, which Joseph admitted he'd tacked on to Caesar just for kicks. Anthonio had a body.

Could he really be Anthonio Zeppeli returned from the dead? Caesar pondered. If that was true, he remembered nothing of being Anthonio.

The idea of having once been a living human unsettled Caesar.

But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel oddly vindicated.

He'd wondered often recently why he even existed, as just another of Joseph's art. What use did he serve?

But now he wondered, upon hearing of Suzi's tale-- maybe this was his purpose.

--------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[aislinceivun]

Hi! I know that you’ve said that you won��t continue with the sequel planned for Wandering Bird, but I was wondering if I could inquire on what you might’ve written? It’s just, I really adore your fic; can’t get it out of my head actually (so I’m so sorry if I’m being insensitive!) You mentioned once that you were going to do a POV from Arthur Gwen and Morgana- does that mean they (Morgana and Gwen specifically) had an idea of Merlin’s fate? Could Arthur “see” Merlin during his adventures? Part 1

Part 2: (Again, I apologize for my questions-your story just has so many interesting plot points!!) How would Bonnie and Co interact/react to Arthur’s return? Why couldn’t Freya interact much with Merlin; Was it a lack of magic, interference or something else? Somewhat weird question: but did you have anything in mind for Merlin’s Vigil Night? (If he can get one poor dear). (Gushing continued in third ask I’m so sorry)

Part 3: I loved how you showed Arthur considering legal reforms before his death-and the Phoenix as the emblem? *Chef’s Kiss* Was the creation of the phoenix’s later on a reference to that? Random aside: I really adored how badass you made Merlin, without making him too edgy or dark, you know? Also I really loved the many prophecies/legends surrounding just Merlin as “Emrys”! I adore literally everything about Aithusa, and her final scene made me bawl (also your art is gorgeous!) You’re amazing!

------------------------------------

Don’t ever apologize for asking questions about fics! Even if they’re old fics the author doesn’t plan on returning to, these kind of asks can really make their day and I’m sure 98% of the time they’ll just be over the moon that someone still thinks so much about their work :D I am!!

I still get emotional thinking about Aithusa, so I’m super glad her storyline made you feel so deeply. And that yuo liked Merlin’s portrayal and the lore about him! And thea art! Ahh, just, thank you! 🥰

Unfortunately, I no longer have my original outlines and the roughly 15k I’ve written due to my old laptop crashing, and it’s been 7 years (oh my gosh how) so I no longer remember the details. Which is too bad - I have several abandoned fics in my mother tongue, and I always uploaded summaries of what was supposed to happen to provide some kind of closure to readers. I can’t do that properly with Wandering, but I’ll try my best!

Putting the rest under a cut. :)

Feathers was inteded to be a series of 7 fics: 3 long main stories and 4 shorter (8-15k) standalone side-stories. The graphics are pretty much the only thing I still have  left x’D

You know this one, 75k of how Merlin spends those roughly 1500 years between the end of the show and Arthur’s rebirth. Then, the stuff that never got finished:

The Gwen POV side story, set during ch1 of Wandering. Focused on Gwen dealing with Arthur’s death, managing the kingdom and working on abolishing discrimination against magic users. Also getting together with Leon after a few years.

The Morgana POV one, at parts corresponding to ch1 and ch2 of Wandering. Honestly, I’m no longer sure about the details, but the early parts were supposed to explain and detail show canon, and then... I think I meant to bring her back in as a literal bird. With the life span of it, just keeping her consciousness, so she can watch what happens in the world. She probably watched over Aithusa, too, and Merlin, and IDK but the goal was to show her thoughts and eventually give her character justice and closure.

The Arthur POV one. He was kept in some kind of otherworldly, underwater palace-like place and could only interact with Freya, really, but he did get constant flashes of Merlin - especially where he was near Albion. This short was supposed to be very dream-like, as time works differenetly in that place. It’s kind of like when you’re half-asleep, y’know? So Arthur didn’t really live those 1500 years like Merlin did, but he followed his journey, in a way. When Freya “woke him up” at the end, they did have a conversation about it. He lost these memories when he was reborn. (But he still often dreams of water and a kind lady)

The next big one! Set in 2012, this would’ve started with Arthur & Merlin going to uni and “meeting each other” and ended with Arthur finally regaining his memories. Merlin kept away from him while Arthur was growing up, you see - aside from that one time when he learnt that by pure chance, Ray (who became a PE teacher) ended up being one of lil’ Chris/Arthur’s teachers. As old man Emrys, he got himself some history teaching shtick because he wanted to see how Arthur was doing, but he quickly realized that this is not going to work, what with him being in love with the man Arthur is going to become. xD So he left after a few months, and kept away from Arthur. (But kept pestering Ray with questions :D)

Anyway, when Arthur goes to uni (by this point, he exclusively goes by ‘Arthur’ btw, dropping Christopher) Merlin magics himself back into his eighteen year old form and gets enrolled in the same school. Agatha and Mike would have had prominent roles as basically Merlin’s sidekicks. Aggie is especially close with him, after him mentoring her about magic all her life.

Arthur has no memories either of his old life or about the years spent with Freya, so the dynamic at first is pretty much show S1. Most of the angst would have come from Arthur finally wanting to get together with Merlin but Merlin pulling away because there’s just too much Arthur doesn’t know; how is he supposed to be together with him when he’s hiding so much, lying so much? This Arthur is pure and free of the tragedies of the past, and maybe it’d be best if Merlin left him alone... But something must be happening - something the world needs Arthur for, if he slept through WWI and WWII but NOW fate decided to send him back...

Anyways, he would have gotten back his memories aroud the end of this instalment. Cue a lot of crying from Merlin’s part.

The last big one, a direct sequel to With Memories. A lot of recap and talking in the early parts, Merlin and Arthur reconciliating who they were in the past with who they are in the present and who they wanna be in the future. 

There was a Big Bad of some kind of malicious magical origin (not necessarily a person, but an “end of the world” kind of thing/entity. It was 2012 after all. Little did we knew the real shit was coming 8 years later It was revealed that Arthur had magic himself, plenty of it - he couldn’t use it, at all, but he wielded a lot of pure magic, maybe related to how he was basically marinated in magic-juice for over fifteen centuries and how his soul was pushed back into the world xD There was a lot of magical and dragon-related lore to be revealed. The Phoenixes came back to play a part in resolving the Big Bad, too. But it’s all very hazy. What I do remember is that to fix the Big Bad, Merlin AND Arthur had to hold their Vigil Night, in a way - not dying, god now, but both of them hand to give all their combined magic back to earth.  This resulted in the Big Bad no longer happening and Merlin losing his immortality =)

After figuring out their shit in the first half, they were pretty much together, btw. Learning each other in a new way. Arthur digged Merlin’s Phoenix emblem tattoo, that’s for sure. A lot of communication was needed, especially because it wasn’t easy for Arthur to understand Merlin’s grief (sometimes, Merlin looked so old despite the young form he wore; sometimes he felt ancient, and Arthur was a bit scared in his presence - not scared of Merlin, but scared of how to measure up to him, reach him, help him.) And Merlin had to understand that even with his old memories, Arthur wasn’t exactly that Arthur, the king - he had a life of his own in the present, a new identity, and it was unfair of Merlin to expect him to be the same. They no doubt talked a lot about Merlin’s lived experiences, his lost ones, Aithusa. (Merlin never stopped wearing the pendant made of Aithusa’s scale)

Happy end, of course :)

Well, that was a lot of vaaaague stuff, but hopefully gave you an idea? Bonnie wasn’t around too much, though I’m sure I’d have included some scenes with her. She probably didn’t met Arthur until Together Again. Aggie liked him fine but kept teasing him and she could be a bit harsh, what with her being so overprotective of Merlin. Mike and Arthur got along really well. Arthur was shocked when he was first fully introduced to the whole family and was met with his old PE teacher AND that brought up the fact Merlin attempted to teach him for a few months xDD 

Buuuuut.... this was still just 6, eh?

Last instalment, another side oneshot, and a prequel to the whole series. Kilgharrah’s POV. Set a few generation’s before Uther’s rein, elaborating on some of the lore and backstories revealed in Together Again. (all of which I no longer remember, rip) I know we’d have met an ancestor of both Merlin and Arthur through Kilgharrah: Aurelius Ambrosius, who does some good deed to Kilgharrah, and the dragon blesses him - after this, the man takes the name Pendragon. And Coel, who was a dragon lord, husband to Ystradwal high priestess. Coel had a cheerful and kind personality, and he was the first human Kilgharrah came to like. They became friends. Coel was supposed to be Merlin’s grandfather, I think. Kilgharrah and his mate were expecting their first egg to hatch when Uther’s purge started, and that was pretty much the end of this short =(

------------

All I have left aside from these is some tidbits of dialogue from the single file on the sequels I have:

~

“Whoa, Merlin, slow down. I can’t follow you.”

“I’m different from you. Okay? I’m not... I wasn’t... I didn’t reincarnate. I’m not a reincarnation of the original Merlin. I am the original Merlin. Do you understand? I never... Look, I never died.”

“You are. The same Merlin." Merlin nods. "The same Merlin who mucked out my horses and saved me countless times and magicked his way into my life.”

“I’m afraid, sire.”

The title comes without a conscious thought, and when he realizes, his heart twists and cracks.

Arthur just stares at him.

~

“So? Who are you guys, then?”

“I wasn’t lying about them. They are family. No! Gods, no, not like that,” he adds quickly upon seeing Arthur’s widening eyes.

“He’s our magical fairy godfather,” Mike and Aggie say in perfect union, completely straight-faced.

 ~

“The only times I was really miserable were the very first few hundred years, and later the roughly three centuries that followed Aithusa’s death. For the rest of the time, I wasn’t completely alone, and that... helped. A lot. But... it was hard. I hated how everyone I cared for withered away and died before my eyes, so I tried to keep people away for a long time. I was lonely, but that kept me safe from heartbreak. At least, that’s what I’d thought.

“But then I met Bonnie, and as I watched her grow up and start a family - a family that welcomed me - I realised how foolish I was for attempting to condone myself to a solitary life and deny myself the warmth of others’ love.”

~

Arthur wipes a hand over his face. “Owning a magical heritage but no apparent talent to use it... Just. Great. I’m a fucking Quibble!”

------------

Phew!! What a trip down memory lane xD And I actually remembered more than I thought I would, so that’s nice. Thank you for enabling me to ramble and recall some stuff a really liked about this verse. I hope I was able to give you some closure! Cheers!♥

[taekookieah]

Memories (1)

Chapter 1

 “You excited?” Taehyung asks excitedly as he jumps out of the car, grabbing his bag and starts walking towards the entrance of the building.

“A little nervous but yeah I am” Riley follows closely behind Taehyung, looking around her surroundings.

The studio was made from an old home which, funnily enough, was located right across the road from her work. She loved the area as it was a few hundred metres away from the river that was brimming with life, both people and animals. Everyone loved to go to the river to wind surf, paddle board, go fishing, walk their dogs or ride alongside the river and enjoy the peaceful serenity. There were also plenty of bird species that littered alongside and in the river but the most prominent of them all were the black swans that lived there, hence the name the ‘Swan River’. Riley loved to go for walks along the river after work and enjoy the sun setting as she listening to her music encapsulating herself in her own little world.

Riley had seen the art studio from across the road but never imagined she would actually be going inside. Art had always been something that Riley was good at but she was always a perfectionist and constantly put herself down for her work. It was more a hobby and one that she enjoyed playing with from time to time but the idea of going to a class scared her a little as she was always paranoid of people judging her lack of skills.

Taehyung was always the artsy type, constantly drawing, going to art museums, taking photographs and editing them every chance he could. It’s what he lived and breathed, so when the chance came along that he could go to a professional art class made him as happy as a kid on Christmas morning.

“You never told me how your meeting went with the photographer the other day” Riley says as they walk through the front door and was greeted by a small elderly woman sitting behind a desk taking a call but smiled brightly at both of them when they entered.

“Oh man it went reeeeaaaally well. The dude has an amazing portfolio and an incredible reputation, not to mention he is hot to boot. Oh I should totally hook you two up, you need a good dicking” Taehyung says casually making Riley choke on her own spit as she flails her hands about quickly looking back and forth between the sweet old lady and her stupid brainless friend just blurting out whatever came to his mind.

“Tae, shut up” Riley smiles through clenched teeth at the old lady and kicks Taehyung’s heel making him yelp.

“Seriously though he is candy for the eyes. I would totally bang him however I have eyes only for the one and only Park Jimin” Taehyung sighs as he flutters his eyes lovingly. Riley gags but fixes herself as the lady ends her phone call and looks at the pair happily.

“Are you two lovelies here for a class today?” the elderly woman spoke with a wobbly voice but they were able to make out what she was saying.

“Yes, my friend Robbie said he was taking the class today” Taehyung said as he bowed to the lady in respect. Despite living in Australia for half his life Taehyung was always one to follow his Korean heritage. He respected anyone and treated everyone kindly, except for Riley that was.

“Oh yes Robbie told me some friends were coming along for a class today, come in come in!” the lady stands up and waves them over to follow her through one of the doors leading to an area where there were large artbooks spread around the room and a table set up at the front where Riley suspects where the teacher will take the class from.

“Take a seat anywhere you like, Robbie won’t be too long. All the materials you need are on this side of the room so help yourself to whatever you need,” the lady pointed to one side of the room where supplies littered the entire length of the room. “If you have your own utensils, you’re welcome to use them as well” the lady gives them a little wave as she made her way back to her station.

Riley and Taehyung started squabbling over where they should sit. Riley wanting to be further away from the front as she didn’t want to grab anyone’s unnecessary attention but Taehyung was so excited he wanted to be front and centre. So with much reluctance Riley sat down next to Taehyung a few metres away from the front of the room and watched as other people started entering the room.

It didn’t take long until the room was almost full making Riley squirm in her seat as she wasn’t particularly fond of big crowds but she managed. Soon after a man in his early thirties walks into the room greeting a few people along the way. He was tall and gangly but held himself well, his shirt and pants were covered in splashes of old dried up paint. Riley smiles at the man as he makes his way over to them, raising a hand as he greets Taehyung who stands up and brings him in for a hug.

“Tae, you made it” the man calls out cheerily as he claps Taehyung on the back.

“Of course, I told you I would come. Robbie this is Riley, Riley Robbie” Taehyung gestures between the two and Riley stands up to shake the man’s hand.

“Thank you for letting us come to your studio, it’s lovely” Riley says as she takes her hand back.

“Why thank you you’re very kind. Now today we are going to be doing some anatomy sketches, our model should be here soon, are you guys ok with nudity?”

“Absolutely!”

“A-ah umm”

Taehyung smiles widely but Riley stutters with her words as she didn’t know what today was going to bring.

“Apologies if it makes you uncomfortable, if it makes you feel better I’ll ask our model to take his shirt off only, is that ok?” Robbie looks at Riley with a sweet smile. Riley can feel her face heating up but shakes her head.

“I’m fine really, I just wasn’t expecting this” Riley rubs the back of her neck nervously.

“Just take it step by step, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Anyway, I better get set up, give me a shout if you need any help with anything” Robbie gives the pair a nod before walking off.

“Tae sweetie, why didn’t you tell me it was this type of class?” Riley slowly looks over to Taehyung who was nonchalantly taking selfies and photos of the room.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t come if I had” Taehyung gives Riley a peace sign and jumps out of the way just in time to miss Riley’s fist connecting with his arm.

“Why you piece of—”

“Good morning everyone, I hope you’ve had a good start to the weekend” Robbie stands up in front of the class silencing everyone in the room making Riley sit up straight in her seat.

“We have one of our favourite model’s come back to grace us with his presence, Jungkook please come in” Robbie calls out to the back of the room where a figure had been leaning casually against the brick wall with his arms crossed. Riley had to stop herself from gaping, the man was absolutely breathtaking.

Riley raked her eyes up and down Jungkook’s form taking in every detail. Jungkook was tall and lean, his shirt clung to his form almost too tight to the point where you could easily see the rise and fall of his chest. He was wearing a pair of ripped jeans that hugged his thighs sinfully where you could see his muscles shift with every movement. His face was almost too pretty, large eyes that held an innocence about them but his dark onyx pupils that had an ominous feel about them. His eyebrows were immaculate and well-shaped for his face and his lips were full and sharp.

Riley watched as Jungkook pushed himself off the wall and started making his way to the front of the room, greeting everyone with a slight nod of his head making everyone swoon.

“Hyung, good to see you again” Jungkook’s voice was lighter than Riley had expected with the way he carried himself but she found that she liked it better than what she had imagined in her head.

“Likewise,” was all Taehyung could choke out as he continued to gape at the man. Riley leaned over to shut his mouth as she didn’t want to be rude to anyone. Riley’s movement caught Jungkook’s attention as she brought her hand to cover Taehyung’s lips who still hung his mouth wide open.

Jungkook locked eyes with Riley making her breath stop, the deep intensity of his gaze made her slightly dizzy but she didn’t dare to look away, almost challenging him to see who would break first. No words were spoken between them but it was almost as if Jungkook was trying to decipher Riley. With a little smirk on his lips he exhales through his nose and nods his head her way before continuing his way to the centre where he turns and leans his backside against the table, leaning back and placing his palms flat on the surface to keep himself propped up.

“That’s the photographer I was telling you about” Taehyung leans over and whispers in Riley’s ear.

“Seriously?” Riley whispers back in surprise to which Taehyung nods his head. Taehyung wasn’t wrong when he said that the man was a sight to behold.

“Perth” Taehyung and Riley say in unison, rolling their eyes in amusement as they sit up in their seats. Perth was one of the most isolated cities in the world and there was a running joke for those who lived here where everyone knew each other from one connection to another.

“Thank you for taking time out of your day to be here with us Jungkook, I know you’re a busy man” Robbie greets Jungkook with a hand shake to which Jungkook happily complies.

“More than happy to help” Jungkook smiles brightly completely changing his demeanour.  

“I’ll go through a few things first before we begin as we have a few new people today” Robbie starts and goes through all the rules and regulations with his classes. Riley can tell that he takes his job seriously and that he loves it with all his heart and soul with the way he talks about art and what it means to him. He asks a few people in the class why they are here and where they want to go with their journey. A few people give simple answers to just have fun while others tell about their dreams of becoming a true artist, all of which Robbie gives his undivided attention to.  

Riley makes sure to turn towards whomever is speaking and gives them her attention however she feels a chill down her spine as if someone is watching her closely. She peeks to the side to find Jungkook looking at her with a tilt to his head, his eyes hovering over her form making Riley lick her lips nervously and swallow deeply. Jungkook keeps his eyes planted firmly but flicks his eyes between her and Taehyung whom is listening to the woman who is currently speaking. Riley clears her now dry throat as she brings her attention back to focus but by then everyone was turning towards the front.

“Alright let’s get started” Robbie makes his way back to his station and gets his pencil ready.

“We are going to start off by just drawing in our own way, I just want to be able to see what your style and skills are like, then I will guide you through ways that can help you improve”

Jungkook looks over to Robbie and nods as he reaches his hands to the bottom of his shirt and lifts it up and over his head. The room was quiet to the point where you could hear a pin drop, everyone’s eyes were drawn towards the man in front of them. Riley didn’t blink once, too afraid to even move as more and more skin became exposed to her, but what she hadn’t noticed earlier were the tattoos that littered Jungkook’s arms and shoulder. The patterns that adorned his skin were skilfully crafted and well executed, the black ink complimenting his pale skin. His left arm was covered top to bottom while his right forearm only had a couple bands that wrapped around his wrist. Some of the ink on his left arm creeped along his collarbone while there was some Japanese symbols on the right side of his ribs.

Jungkook went to unbuckle his belt but Robbie told Jungkook that it wouldn’t be necessary today. Jungkook just shrugged his shoulders as he buckled his belt back up, tugging at his jeans to get more comfortable as he jumped onto the table raking his fingers through his jet-black hair.

“Make yourself comfortable Jungkook, as for everyone else start whenever you’re ready. I’m going to walk around in a few minutes to see how everyone is going.” everyone nods their head enthusiastically as they pick up various utensils, some using charcoal while others used pencils and paints.

Riley looked down and realised that she had yet to get herself anything to work with but she was too petrified to move. Riley looked around as everyone started their work and then back to Jungkook who had shuffled back onto the table. He had his left leg dangling off the edge while the other was bent up with his foot planted firmly on the desk. He leaned his right elbow across his bent knee while the other rested on his thigh casually sitting comfortably. Riley started sweating nervously not knowing what to do but thankfully Taehyung came to her rescue.

“You kind of need something to draw with you know” Taehyung whispers as he reaches over and places a pencil and eraser in her hand giving her cheek a poke.

“Thank you” Riley whispers back, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

Riley shuffles herself in her seat to get more comfortable. Riley looked intensely at the paper in front of her trying to decide how to start. Riley flicked her eyes towards Jungkook who was looking directly at her. Riley was sitting right in front of him so it was only natural that he would be looking in her direction but the intensity of his gaze made Riley’s face heat up even more. Jungkook raised an eyebrow knowingly which ticked Riley off a little. She takes a deep breath to compose herself as she raised her pencil onto the paper and starts her work.

She kept it simple, starting off with a few circles and lines to give herself somewhat of a guide to fill in the proper proportions of the man laying in front of her. Once in a flow Riley was in her own little bubble, eyes darting back and forth between Jungkook and her work as the drawing started to come to life. Taehyung tried to make little jabs at her here and there but soon gave up knowing that when Riley was in her zone it was hard to break her concentration. Once Riley finished the basic outline of the man she leaned back in her seat and stared at it for a while figuring out the next move.

Riley hummed to herself as she stared at the man sitting on the table whom had started gazing into nothingness, his mind elsewhere. Riley took the chance where she could look at the man easily without his unnerving glare looking directly at her. Riley raked her eyes over the man’s torso taking in the details of his muscular build. He was strong, there was no denying it. Riley has had her fair share of seeing men topless due to her housemates constantly walking around half naked all the time but Riley could tell the difference in their different builds.

Jimin had a smaller frame, his skeletal build more petite compared to Taehyung’s, however his muscular build was more well defined in comparison. Taehyung was tall and had longer limbs which accentuated his features, but his muscular build was not as strong or well defined as Jimin’s.

Jungkook was in a completely different ballpark. He was the same height as Taehyung but he was just as well defined as Jimin, possibly more so. His shoulders were broad and his waist was tiny making Riley silently curse him as she was slightly jealous about it. Riley took her time and started drawing the finer details of Jungkook’s body, her eyes darting back and forth between him and the paper. It was at this point where Riley really started to look closer, taking notice of the ink that painted his skin. Riley squinted her eyes as she tried to picture out exactly what each tattoo was. Rather than drawing the tattoos in she started drawing off to the side, writing notes of which tattoos were located where.

First to note were the Japanese symbols on the right side of his ribs. Riley tried her best to get the symbols correct as she was curious to search up the meaning behind them. The second tattoo was a camera but its style was quite unique and drew you in the more you looked. There were a few splashes that made it look like the ink had been thrown on and was starting to drip from corners of the lens. Riley tried her best to replicate it, writing notes here and there of specific details just in case she forgets later.

Next were the roman numerals that were below Jungkook’s left clavicle and went onto the front of his shoulder; V.XXVI.LXII, Riley was able to figure out the date of them but she didn’t know what it represented, another mystery that she wishes she knew the answer to. Continuing on were the letters G.C.F scribed just below the crook of his elbow. Another mystery and one that had Riley making guesses left right and centre as to what they meant.

Riley could see two other tattoo’s peaking on the back of his left forearm and shoulder, one looked like a pair of horns and the head of an ox and the other looked to be a white tiger however she couldn’t get a clear picture so she left them out. Looking back at her work she looked through her list of notes to see if there was anything missing but after triple checking it was time to fill in the missing pieces to her work.

“You take very good notes” Robbie says behind Riley making her jump in her chair grasping at her chest from surprise. Robbie apologises, chuckling at Riley’s sudden surprise.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry” Robbie says as he squats beside Riley, eyes drawn towards her work.

“It’s ok, I was in my own world” Riley quickly waves him off, face aflame from how embarrassed she felt.

“You’ve got a great eye for detail, this is fantastic” Robbie says hovers a finger over the lines that Riley had created.

“You’re using quite strong strokes too, how bold” Robbie states as looks over to Riley with a smile on his face.

“Should I not be doing that?” Riley furrows her brows together already scolding herself for making a mistake that she didn’t know about.

“Everyone creates art differently and I can see from this that when you commit to something you put everything into it, I admire that” Robbie says as he grabs the pencil behind his ear and flips Riley’s paper over carefully to a new page as to not damage what she has done so far.

“I’m not an artist by any means” Riley mumbles as she watches Robbie scribble out Jungkook’s form with quick, precise lines that were lighter compared to Riley’s but looked cleaner.

“I beg to differ” Robbie says as he continues his little sketch.

“But I—”

“You draw yes?” Robbie buts in, side eyeing Riley with a raised eyebrow.

“Well…yes” Riley fiddles with the pencil in her grip.

“Then you are an artist” Robbie states simply. Riley looks at Robbie and then back at the piece in front of her that had already taken form.

“This is my style, sure I have the skills and experience of a professional but the only difference between you and me is the amount of time I’ve practicing” Robbie puts the pencil away and looks over at Riley with a sweet smile.

“I can adapt to other styles of art but this is the type of drawing I like to do. It’s not perfect but it’s me, that’s all there is to it.” Riley looks at Robbie’s piece and sighs in amazement. He had managed to do all of what Riley had done plus add the details of the tattoos but in a way that seemed just perfect.

“As for you,” Robbie looks at Riley knowingly. “this is you” Robbie flips the paper back over to Riley’s own work and for the first time Riley was looking at it from a new perspective. She had been staring at her work for the past half an hour and was beginning to hate it, but looking at the differences between Robbie’s work and her own made her start to appreciate her skills. There were area’s that needed more work and of course the details of the tattoo’s had yet to be put in place but Riley actually liked what she was looking at.

“Just because we have different styles doesn’t mean you can’t draw, everyone has their own styles and you should embrace yours. Don’t put yourself down Riley you’re doing great” Robbie smiles as he talks but his eyes were on the work in front of them which made Riley’s heart beat hard and strong. For the first time she was genuinely proud of her work.

“Thank you” Riley mouths out to Robbie who smiles once more and pats her on the shoulder.

“Go on, I’m itching to see what the end product will look like” Robbie then stands up and moves on.

Riley couldn’t help the grin on her face grow. No one had ever spoken to her about any of her creations in a way like that. It made Riley determined to keep going, to push herself to learn and grow. Riley looked back to the model who was flicking his eyes back and forth around the room trying to stay as still as possible but every few seconds his eyes would flick back to Riley.

 Jungkook had been watching Riley for a while, there was something about her that just drew him in wanting to know more about the girl. Jungkook let his eyes wonder over Riley’s figure for a while but he couldn’t stop staring at her face. Riley was pretty to say in the least, she had light skin with freckles that littered her arms and speckled her rosy cheeks. Her hair was dark auburn that changed colour in the light. She was small but looked fit which was something that Jungkook truly liked in a girl. What caught his attention the most were the colour of her eyes. Jungkook could look at them for hours and not tire of them. At first glance they looked blue but the longer Jungkook observed he noticed there were hints of green as well.

Jungkook took pride in his looks, he knew the effect he had on people and he enjoyed the attention, most of the time, but today felt different. He is used it, however the way that Riley was looking at him felt different. Instead of the feeling of lust and want that he feels whenever someone looks at him, he feels something else, something that he can’t put his finger on. It makes him want to get inside her head, poke and prod to see what she is thinking.

Jungkook flicked his eyes over to Taehyung whom he had met only a few days ago. There meeting went really well as they clicked right away and there was no awkward conversation and no straight forward flirting either which was new since almost every model Jungkook came across would try to pull some sort of move on him. Jungkook looked at their pair and wondered if they were an item which made Jungkook feel off. He watched on as they interacted with each other constantly bicker and argued over small things, continuously poking one another, more so Taehyung than Riley, but Jungkook could see that they were really close.

 Riley bit her lip unconsciously as she filled in the finishing touches, eyes flicking about the page over and over to see what she could fix. She had to physically stop herself from continuing to touch up anything by forcing her pencil down and holding her hands behind her back to not feel tempted to continue. Riley looked around the room and could see that everyone was finished or just finalising the finishing touches, some showing others their art.

Riley looked over to Taehyung where he was still scribbling away happily. Riley was happy to see her friend having as much fun as he was, she felt warmth spread through her body.

“You know you’re meant to be looking at the man at the front, not me” Taehyung looks over to Riley cheekily wiggling his eyebrows. He loves to make fun of Riley and always makes silly remarks about how Riley secretly loves him and wants to keep him all to herself all of which Riley denies and punches him in response without fail. Today was no exception.

“Shut up you asshat, are you nearly done?” Riley punches Taehyung’s shoulder lightly as she scoots her chair over to look at her friend’s piece.

“Wow Tae, why the hell didn’t you tell me you were this good?” Riley gapes at Taehyung’s work genuinely surprised with the level of skill that he had managed to pull off. Taehyung waves Riley off bashfully and even blushes a little having not expected Riley’s genuine praise.

“I’ve been practicing” Taehyung rubs the back of his neck and he smiles his boxy grin.

“No kidding, seriously this is great” Riley shuffles her seat back to her spot but Taehyung jumps up and sits in her lap side on, wrapping his arms around Riley’s neck as he looks at her work.

“What the hell this is incredible!” Taehyung nearly falls off Riley’s lap as he leans forward, face barely inches away from Riley’s paper.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were THIS good?!” Taehyung exclaims as he looks over his shoulder with a look of bewilderment.

“I’m not that good Tae stop it” Riley laughs as she slaps Taehyung on the back.

“Jungkook look at this!” Taehyung calls out and picks up Riley’s work turning it to face the male. Riley jumps out of her seat trying desperately to grab the sketchbook back but she wasn’t fast enough to react in time.

Riley stands still as she watches Jungkook over Taehyung’s shoulder. Jungkook shift his attention to the pair, eyes landing on Riley’s artwork. Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he pushes himself up, swinging his legs off the table and lands on his feet making his way over and taking the book into his hands. Jungkook looks over the piece slowly making Riley start to sweat nervously, her heart beating fast in her chest.

“Can I take a photo of this?” Jungkook looks up to Riley through his long eyelashes.

“I…huh?” Riley scrunches her face in confusion not sure if she heard right.

“Only if it’s ok with you, I won’t if you don’t want me to” Jungkook shakes his free hand now unsure as to whether he should have asked in the first place.

“No no, it’s ok” Riley steps around Taehyung who was silently holding his breath from excitement wishing that he could record this moment right now.

“You don’t mind?” Jungkook hands back Riley’s sketchbook.

“Not at all” Riley looks down at her artwork and then back up at Jungkook with a big smile on her face. Jungkook just looks at her face and has to stop himself from sighing heavily from how adorable she looks.

“Great, I’ll just go and get my camera…yeah” Jungkook turns to leave the room but remembers he doesn’t have a shirt on so he quickly jogs over to the table grabbing the item of clothing and throwing on as he walks out the door.

“Well well well, looks like you’ve got a fan” Taehyung hugs Riley from behind, lifting her up and twirling her around.

“Taehyung stop it, put me down!” Riley squeals as she’s being lifted off the ground but it was short lived as she’s put back onto her feet.

“You should sell it, he’s got a crazy fanbase you could make quite a pretty buck off this” Taehyung squeezes Riley tighter but she just shakes her head as she looks at her piece.

“I don’t think I could” Riley says.

“Why not?” Taehyung exclaims.

“Because I want to keep it for myself” Riley pouts as she looks over to Taehyung.

“Because you like Mr. Jeon Jungkook ay?” Taehyung whispers into her ear making her unconsciously shiver.

Jungkook runs back into the room but stops halfway when he sees Taehyung all over Riley, holding her and cuddling into her as they sway from side to side. Jungkook’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he makes his way over to the pair, his bag slung over his shoulder. Jungkook clears his throat making sure to smile even though he wants tell Taehyung to get off Riley.

What is wrong with me?

Jungkook shakes his head at himself as he waves at the pair making Riley squirm out of Taehyung’s grasp and elbowing him in the gut.

“Please ignore him, he was dropped when he was a baby” Riley says making Taehyung pout sadly.

“No surprise there” Jungkook cheekily smiles at Taehyung who just flips him off making Jungkook chuckle.

“What’s with the bag?” Riley looks down puzzled, “I thought you were just getting your phone?”

This makes Jungkook chuckle lightly as he shakes his head. Jungkook gestures his head over to the table and walks over placing his heavy bag down and pulling out his camera equipment.

“I have standards” Jungkook looks over his shoulder to look down at Riley who just swallows.

“May I?” Jungkook looks down at the sketchbook to which Riley just nods and hands it over carefully.

“I won’t break it, I promise”

I promise

A familiar voice calls out in Riley’s head making her furrow her brows angrily. Jungkook notices the change in her demeanour but it leaves her face just as fast as it showed. Jungkook wanted to ask but decided against it, turning back to focus on the task at hand.

There was a small crowd forming, everyone watching what the whole commotion was about. Riley took a step back and turned to head back to Taehyung, burying her face into the man’s chest. Taehyung didn’t need to ask knowing full well what was going through her head.

“It’s ok” Taehyung hushes Riley brushing his long fingers through her hair to calm her down.

Jungkook makes quick work, not wanting to hold up the class even more than he has. Jungkook apologises to Robbie but he waves him off as he’s cleaning up his materials reminding his students to do the same. Everyone sighs in unison as they tread back to their stations and starts cleaning up.

“Common we should clean up” Taehyung rubs Riley’s back slowly letting her go. Riley nods her head and silently starts packing her things, making sure not to leave any mess behind.

Riley watches from the sidelines as Jungkook assembles his camera and goes about trying to figure out the best angle for the shot. He opts to climb up the table onto his knees giving him enough leverage to get an overhead shot. Jungkook brings the camera up to his face, one eye shut closed while the other looks down the lens. After taking a few shots and deeming the photos good Jungkook climbs back down from the table putting his camera away safely making sure the equipment is secure before closing the bag and slinging it over his head. Jungkook looks over find Riley and Taehyung picking up their bags to head out the door.

“Riley, your sketchbook!” Jungkook calls out jogging over to hand it back. Riley turns eyes wide and a gentle smile on her face but it was one that didn’t sit right with Jungkook.

“Oh, silly me I nearly forgot thanks” Riley takes back her sketchbook clutching it close to her chest.

“It was nice to meet you” Riley bows and quickly turns on her heel heading straight for the exit leaving Jungkook behind.

“I’ll see you later Jungkook” Taehyung bows to him as well and rushes off quickly following after Riley.

Jungkook stands there with a million questions wracking through his brain. Robbie cuts off his thoughts as he stands in front of him and goes to shake his hand.

“A pleasure to have you here as always, don’t be afraid to pop in and do some artwork yourself” Jungkook thanks him and heads for the door. As he’s climbing down the creaky wooden steps he spots Taehyung and Riley climbing into a car and talking for a bit before the engine starts up. Jungkook walks over to his car and opens the boot where he keeps all of his filming equipment when he travels and places his bag carefully in place before closing it shut. He walks around and climbs into the driver’s seat and revs up the engine but he doesn’t leave, not just yet.

Jungkook looks over to see Riley and Taehyung still sitting there chatting away but it’s too far to properly see their facial expressions. Soon enough the conversation ends and Taehyung goes to leave the parking area, making a quick turn onto the busy highway.

Jungkook sighs as he grabs his seat belt and secures it in before reversing out of his parked spot and follows but turns in the other direction even though every bone in his body wants to follow them to make sure that Riley was ok.

 --

 “We’re home!” Taehyung sing songs as he opens the door where they find Jimin in the living room doing his routine stretches.

“Welcome back, how was it?” Jimin rolls over and hops to his feet making his way over to the pair.

“It was fine” Riley says casually as she moves straight for the stairs wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed for the rest of the day and play some games on her phone to distract herself from her stupid brain.

“She had another incident” Taehyung presses his lips into a thin line.

“I tried talking to her about it but she kept ignoring me, I don’t know what to do” Taehyung looks up towards Riley’s room worry clear on his features.

“Let me try” Jimin squeezes Taehyung on the arm as he walks past to head up the stairs.

“Good luck” Taehyung says but only loud enough for himself to hear as he watches Jimin’s form climb the stairs two at a time and make his way over to Riley’s room where he gently knocks on the door and patiently waits for an answer.

“Come in” Riley’s muffled call comes through the door. Jimin turns the doorknob and slowly opens the door peaking his head through as he looks around the room to find Riley on her bed with her back facing him.

Jimin slips through the small crack and closes the door behind him as softly as possible. The boy makes his way across the room and takes a seat on the mattress, his weight dipping the bed as he swings his legs up and crosses them beneath himself.

“Hey” Jimin makes sure there’s space between them giving Riley time to open up at her own pace.

“Hey” Riley sighs out heavily before rolling over onto her other side so she could face Jimin.

“There’s something wrong with me” Riley says making Jimin shake his head in disagreement.

“It’s been over a year Jimin and I’m still—” Riley huffs out defeated as she brings her palms up to cover her eyes not wanting to cry.

“There is nothing wrong with you” Jimin says as he scoots closer and starts stroking his index finger over Riley’s hairline.

“You went through something traumatic, and there will be times where things can trigger memories. You can’t blame yourself for something that’s out of your control” Jimin continues to stroke Riley’s hair wishing that he could offer more to stop the pain she was feeling.

“It still hurts” Riley chokes as she tries to stop the cries from spilling but can’t stop herself.

“I know” Jimin moves to lay down, wriggling himself closer and tangling their legs together. Jimin then opens his arms when Riley moves in closer, her fists grabbing at his shirt desperate to hold onto anything.

“Please don’t leave me” Riley hiccups as she tries to slow her breathing down.

“I will always be here for you” Jimin hugs Riley closer as he strokes the back of her head and neck.

  Taehyung was frustrated with himself that he couldn’t talk to Riley the way Jimin could. Taehyung knew that they had been friends since high school and that they were extremely close but he still felt a little jealous that Jimin had that sort of connection with someone else. Taehyung huffs as he jumps off the couch as there was nothing on the tv that caught his attention.

He knew that Jimin was never confident with him being in the kitchen since there had been a few incidences where he nearly burned it down but at least he knew that he couldn’t mess up making some tea for Riley and Jimin. Taehyung grabs the electric kettle and fills it up with fresh water from the tap and sets it back, turning it on and letting it warm up.

“Teateateateatea where is it?” Taehyung mumbles to himself as he rummages through multiple drawers and doors as he wasn’t used to the layout.

“Ahah!” Taehyung finds the tea tucked away in the corner of the kitchen and picks out what he believes is Riley’s favourite.

Just as Taehyung pulls everything out he turns off the kettle just before it boils. Taehyung remembers Riley going on and on about specific temperature to which he used to rolled his eyes at because it’s just boiling water it can’t make that much of a difference, but he didn’t want to ruin something that seemed special to her. After debating with himself for a few minutes over how many tea leaves were acceptable Taehyung finally poured the water into the pot and set it on a tray alongside with three little cups.  Carefully Taehyung slides the tray into his arms and carries it over to the staircase where he stops at the bottom looking up at the second floor.

“Don’t drop it Tae you got this” Taehyung breathes out and takes one step upwards, the tray wobbles in his tight grip. Step by step he makes his way up safely onto the second floor and takes a few steps away from the edge to calm his nerves. Taehyung makes his way over to Riley’s room and presses his ear to the door but couldn’t hear anything on the other side. Putting down the tray on a nearby table Taehyung gently raps his knuckles on the door peeping his head through to see Jimin curled up on bed with Riley. A small pang of jealousy ran through Taehyung seeing the pair like that but he quickly scolded himself as this was not the time or place to be getting riled up over this.

“I made some tea” Taehyung gently called out as he picks up the tray and bringst it inside, closing the door slowly with his foot. Riley stirs at Taehyung’s words and raises her head to peek over Jimin’s shoulder.

“What kind?” Riley asks weakly sniffling as she blinks her eyes a few times.

“Silver needle” Taehyung places the tray down letting out a big sigh of relief that he hadn’t spilled a single drop.

“Really?” Riley’s eyes started to sparkle in interest as she pushes herself up into a sitting position with Jimin following suit.

“I’m not sure if I made it right” Taehyung picks up the pot and pours the tea in each cup delicately.

“The fact that you made it already makes it ten times more special” Riley smiles genuinely for the first time since the incident making Taehyung sigh in relief. Taehyung hands Riley a cup first and then one to Jimin who gives him such a tender smile it makes his heart soar. Taehyung and Jimin watch with bated breath as Riley blows on the beverage and takes a tentative sip humming as she swallows.

“This is really good Tae” Riley’s smile grows as she takes a few more sips, gently swaying on the mattress which Taehyung knows it’s a sign of pure delight. Jimin takes a sip of his own and his eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“Looks like you’re the new tea master around here” Jimin gives Taehyung his signature eye smile making Taehyung heart soar even higher.  

“Hey now, don’t forget about me” Riley pouts as she finishes her cup and puts it aside.

“We all know you’re the Tea Queen” Taehyung gets down onto his hands and knees bowing deeply.

“All hail the Tea Queen!” Jimin jumps down and joins Taehyung on the floor.

“Hahaha guys please stop” Riley laughs as she tries to pull the boys by the arms but they wouldn’t budge.

“Long live the Tea Queen” Taehyung raises his arms up and bows down once more.

“Long may she rein” Jimin says but stars laughing as he bows down.

“Oh my god, please arise my loyal subjects” Riley pulls the pair up off the floor and into her bed where she wraps her arms around them.

“Thank you both so much for being here for me, it means more than you know” Riley says through her giggles hugging them close. Jimin and Taehyung reciprocate and wrap their arms around each other. They stay like this for a while before Taehyung’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He wanted to ignore it but whomever it was they were sending text after text and it was starting to annoy him.

“Sorry guys” Taehyung sighs as he pulls the device out of his pocket to shut it off but stops as he looks at the ID sending said messages.

“Who is it?” Jimin lays Riley down letting her head rest in his lap and continues to stroke her hair.

“It’s Jungkook” Taehyung manoeuvres himself so his back is leaning against the wall, bending his legs and keeping the phone close to his chest.

“Ohoh it seems he’s worried about you Riley” Taehyung’s smile continues to grow as he reads the messages to himself. Riley sits up immediately scooting closer to try and read the messages but Taehyung keeps them out of reach.

“Jungkook?” Jimin raises an eyebrow at the mention of his name.

“Yeah, he’s my new photographer I’ll be working with, turns out he does some modelling at the art studio we went to this morning. You should totally see Riley’s work by the way it’s dope, he actually took photos of it because he loved it so much” Taehyung keeps Riley away by shoving his foot into her stomach as she tries to grab at his phone.

“Do you mean Jeon Jungkook? About your height, dark hair, tattoos and piercings all along his ears?” Jimin lists off the man’s features to which both Taehyung and Riley look at him.

“Don’t tell us you know him too” Taehyung says in amazement.

“He’s one of my new students, he’s an incredible dancer” Jimin shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“See Riley, he’s a multitalented guy who’s super attractive and he’s worried about you. This is a sign!” Taehyung pokes Riley’s side making her squirm.

“I doubt it” Riley mutters to herself as she curls up into a ball.

“He’s a nice guy when you get to know him” Jimin smiles down at Riley and gives her a poke as well.

“He would be perfect for a good hook up! I’ll set everything up” Taehyung jumps up quickly typing away darting left to right as Riley gets up and chases after him.

“No. Tae stop. We didn’t agree to this” Riley grabs onto Taehyung’s arm and pulls but he wouldn’t budge as he types out the last sentence and presses send.

“Tae!” Riley all but cries out slumping to the floor.

“What did you say?” Jimin walks up to Taehyung who flinches and throws his phone towards the man already knowing it would be a losing battle if he tried to keep anything away from Jimin.

“I told him that you were fine, which you are, and that we should meet up for drinks sometime. Jimin you can join us if you’d like” Taehyung says joining Riley on the ground who hadn’t budged.

“Why are you doing this to meeeeeeee? Can’t I enjoy being single?” Riley kicks her legs out and flails about, just the thought of seeing the man again makes her stomach queasy.

“Because you need to move on. In all seriousness I’m not saying you need to suck the guys dick but just spend some time with him, get to know him. Who knows you may make a new friend” Taehyung pats Riley on the back who just glares back at him.

“I kind of have to agree with Tae on this one,” Jimin says whilst reading the messages Jungkook had sent making the others look at him in surprise. “Not the dick sucking part but the part where you could make friends with him. I mean you haven’t really given anyone a chance to become friends with you ever since you and ‘him’ broke up” Jimin knew to tread carefully when bringing up Riley’s ex but he was right, she had been pushing people away.

“I know” Riley deflates.

“We will be with you the entire time and if you really want to call it quits we’ll take you home” Jimin suggests to which Taehyung nods his head sharply. Riley mulls it over in her head thinking of the worst possible outcome but she stops herself knowing how her imagination can blow things way out of proportion.

“Alright fine I’ll do it”

“Yay!” Taehyung calls out in glee and jumps around happily.

“I’m choosing your outfit” Taehyung opens up Riley’s wardrobe and flicks through her clothes.

“Is this really all you have? I gotta take you shopping” Taehyung starts pulling everything off the racks and dumps them onto Riley’s bed.

“Hey!” Riley calls out

“Hush I’m working” Taehyung waves Riley off while he busies himself rummaging through her draws and pulling out pairs of pants and shorts.

“I’ll take care of the makeup” Jimin calls out as he runs out of the room and heads downstairs where he keeps his palettes and highlighters. Taehyung’s phone buzzes once more making him stop in his tracks and picks up the device reading the text.

“Tomorrow is a go people!” Taehyung shouts out happily as he throws Riley a pair of ripped white skinny jeans and a grey top.

“Go put these on, I’ll get other looks together and see which one’s the best” Taehyung picks Riley up and shoves her towards her bathroom. Jimin comes rushing back up the stairs with his makeup kit and starts to unpack.

“This is going to be so much fun” Jimin singsongs as he rummages through the eyeshadows deciding what kind of look he wants to go for.  

“I’m going to kill you guys one day” Riley calls out as she closes the bathroom door behind her.

“We love you too” Taehyung and Jimin call out in unison.

[shuoshuzhe-a]

            meet the team from CHINA....they can argue that they’re the main school, the progenitor to shamanism and using cursed energy. it’s not far — fetched to say that they’re one of the oldest schools to exist that practices juryoku. separated into two streams, the use of CURSED energy is more new than the use of spiritual energy ; the need to adapt was necessary with the changing world ( filled with negative energy ) and these students [ and their 2 teachers ] are currently the top of their school. unlike tokyo where most of the shamans — in —  training are high schoolers, most of the students here are entering university / college...but the concept is not unlike their basics, training starts YOUNG and the cursed techniques are often etched into their being. from spellcasters to summoners to equipment users to talisman users, the basics of using cursed energy is all the same.             this particular team is known for their earrings ( tassel —  like ) but some have opted to not pierce their ears. the earrings function both as a communicator and a protection charm.             from top left to bottom right: lin feihong, wang guiying, huang yaling, huang yahui, tang xiulan, xie zhihao, yang kai, jiang liling, shu delun.

lin feihong ( 28, instructor, special class [top left] ) — feihong hails from a famed family of shamans ( jitong / tongji ) known for their sixth sense. a family of oracles, feihong has a bit of an affinity for foresight and is more of a passive player when it comes to battles. a strategist, feihong’s role tends to be more SUPPORTING when in battle...their role in the team tends to be more as an advisor, to help the students cultivate their abilities. the LIN family is known for their cursed techniques and talismans. feihong’s gender is unknown to many, it has left people guessing. feihong smokes quite often, but it is a practice their family uses for visions and gives an air of mysteriousness. feihong is a male but only delun knows.

wang guiying ( 19, student, 3rd class [top middle] ) — guiying is from a small village in china that was recruited and sent to the school to refine his skill. unlike his family members, he is the only one who was ‘ blessed ’ with the ability to harness energy. while his family has been shamans for a while now, they were only village healers. the moment the scout offered, without even giving guiying a chance to speak, he was sent off. there is SLIGHT resentment for being sent off without regards of what he wanted from life, but a part of him is grateful that he’s learned how to use his abilities. he’s more capable with summoning shikigami ( using talismans ) and cursed weapons. guiying is close to yahui ( sort of — they fight and bicker but they work well together ) and yaling...rather, he also worries for yaling and is much SOFTER with the female than her own brother. guiying is friendly, open — minded, and loud...he doesn’t hesitate to let people know how he feels or what he thinks, but sometimes he acts before he thinks ( while yahui thinks before he acts, even not hesitating to LEAVE ).

huang yaling ( 21, student, quasi-1st class [top right] ) — her family supposedly hails from royalty, or nobility, their lineage runs much deeper than the LIN family. all of her family have produced shamans of special grade so there was a LOT of expectations placed upon yaling and her twin brother, yahui. yaling is often faced with people who thinks she achieved her position not through her skills BUT because of her family. as the elder of the pair, yaling struggles with anxiety, insecurity and a lack of confidence ; despite having all the TRAINING and developing her skills, she’s become quite insecure about her abilities, where she doubts herself constantly. an apologist, she’s always trying to cover for her brother (trying to protect him ). she tends to be hurt often and used by others due to her kind but a pushover nature. she specializes in talismans and summoning, a prominent cursed technique user ; she’s currently trying to perfect her territory expansion. the HUANG family holds a relative large amount of cursed objects hidden away in a cache far into the mountains...the location is not known by anyone but family elders.

huang yahui ( 21, student, quasi-2nd class [middle left] ) — the younger huang twin, more bold and more temperamental. yahui tends to be a VERY angry person, towards society and towards his sister...and resentment towards his family. he tends to be more offensive and aggressive with people, a facade to hide his vulnerable and upset self...there’s so much judgement and so much expectation, he’s not being seen as who he is ( and his anger is DOUBLE because his sister is so meek and quiet ). he’s protective over his sister, always ahead or behind her ; hiding behind his angry facade, yahui is sad and frustrated with everything. he tends to SNAP first and then figure it out later. but underneath it all, he’s a soft-hearted and protective, a loyal person...yahui is just like his sister, a prominent cursed technique user and uses a form of blood manipulation as part of his technique. opposite to guiying, he thinks before acting ; he doesn’t hesitate to LEAVE if the situation is too dangerous for him or yaling ( and guiying ). his instincts is often correct, but his way to dealing with it is bad — abandoning people in favor to save those close to him.

tang xiulan ( 23, practitioner, 2nd class [middle] ) — xiulan is an optimistic person and a supportive person ; a good listener, xiulan wants to be supportive to the team. a mature mind, xiulan is a positive person with a lot of love to give. this was perhaps because of her loving relationship with her family despite the gender discrimination she faced from her elders ; her grandfather was a jitong and was hoping to pass it on but having no sons, the tradition wasn’t passed on...and when the hopes of grandsons were shattered with the birth of two daughters....xiulan took it upon herself to learn by watching, and while she was GOOD at the gestures, she had no actual training as her grandfather refused to teach her. albeit, what her grandfather practiced wasn’t the usage of cursed technique, and uses the basis of taoism...xiulan wasn’t recruited, but rather, she asked for help...she WANTED to be in this profession so she had to go behind her grandfather’s back and ask for assistance in the shaman world. initially, she had very little talent, but with hardwork, she managed to make it up the ladder. she feels for the twins and tries her best to be there for the two that are on the opposite end of the spectrum ( but she feels that yahui thinks she’s doing it out of pity ). she is versed in harnessing spiritual energy instead of cursed energy, unlike the rest of her peers. like the jack of all trades, there isn’t ONE thing she’s good at.

xie zhihao ( 19, student, 3rd class [middle right] ) — unlike zhihao’s pretty face and false smiles, zhihao has a bit of a nasty personality. she has a tendency to use people to get what she wants, she doesn’t hesitate to leave people behind for the sake of her own gain. how she manages to get along with her team is a mystery to everyone, she especially enjoys picking on xiulan and yaling ( but only when yahui isn’t around ). a cursed corpse specialist, she’s still perfecting her craft and she seems to have a PENCHANT for using humanoid figures for her art ( so much so that some people think she’s reanimating the dead  — actually something she’s looking into... ). she can make simple animal shikigami but mostly for communication and distractions...they cannot attack nor defend. zhihao hails from a rich family, but as the youngest of her siblings, she was cast aside as useless. developing a superiority complex because she’s often told that she’s not NEEDED ( and not given what she wanted when asked, she had to earn it ), she has a tendency to look down on others and dig her fingers into wounds ; she hates being seen as weak and hates people like yaling & yahui ( got her place because of her family, got what they wanted without working for it  — so she thinks ) and people like xiulan ( too kind and loving ).

yang kai ( 20, student, quasi-2nd class [bottom left] ) — an orphan / runaway that was picked up by shu delun’s family, he was discovered during an attack from a low — level cursed spirit and somehow, managed to survive. the SHU family found talent in the boy and took him in. the SHU family were known to be spellcasters and found that yang kai had an ability with his voice. trained to become a spellcaster, yang kai is praised to be a genius for his ability and for his background...he remains unaffected by other people’s opinion about him. he seems unsociable or condescending for his quiet tone or lack of talking. yang kai speaks softly with a raspy tone, avoids eye contact ( just because he’s super awkward ) and just so that he doesn’t accidentally use his ‘ voice ’ against people. a genuinely nice kid who’s overly just REALLY awkward, he has a really huge soft spot for animals and fuzzy blankets.

jiang liling ( 20, student, 3rd class [bottom middle] ) — a girl with money and sometimes told that she doesn’t have a talent and that she should quit. it’s perhaps because of her princess — like attitude, refusing to get dirty when it came to missions....her condescending tone has her seen as less important due to her attitude. she’s a capable person BUT she hates doing the dirty work. she is the type to be more bossy and work behind everyone than be ACTUALLY doing the work. when forced to, she can do it...she just has an issue with her image...she grew up learning that appearance was everything ; that she needed to look perfect no matter what...and with the addition of being influenced by people’s ideal image of what a ‘ girl ’ should look like ( effeminate, non-calloused hands, no scars, etc ), she hates digging her hands into things...keeping them well manicured, and clothes clean. it’s a surprised she even managed to make it up to 3rd class. she has a crush on yahui.

shu delun ( 29, instructor, special class [ bottom right] ) — hailing from a family full of spellcasters, delun is nearly the opposite of feihong. while feihong is more focused on the DEFENSE, delun is more OFFENSE. if either of them were to be born as a female, they were to be married. the SHU and LIN family had a good relationship despite the shu family being like nouveau — riche...the SHU family were very new but talented and made a name for themselves. the markings on delun’s face helps with limit his spellcasting abilities without unknowingly influencing others with his voice. a skilled spellcaster, he is also capable of other areas and assists in putting theory to practicality ( taking what feihong teaches to the field ). a fun — loving and adventurous male that often joins feihong in smoke breaks. he cares deeply for the team and tries his best to guide them down the right path. he dotes on yang kai ( as his nephew ) and tries to keep liling in line.

[yasbxxgie]

Kehinde Wiley on Self-Doubt and How He Made It as a Painter The artist behind Barack Obama’s presidential portrait talks about developing his skills at a junk store

By age 12, Kehinde Wiley had a reputation in his Los Angeles neighborhood for being a talented artist. Teachers at his school recommended him for a program during which he spent the summer of 1989 in Russia with 50 Soviet kids and 50 other Americans, creating murals, learning the Russian language and culture, hiking, swimming, and picking mushrooms. “It was a strange, magical time,” he recalls.

Wiley went on to study art at the San Francisco Art Institute and Yale. He now has a studio in Brooklyn, and Barack Obama chose him to paint a lively portrait of the former president that now hangs in the National Portrait Gallery.

I recently spoke with Wiley about traveling to Nigeria to meet his father for the first time after having painted portraits of him for years, dealing with criticism, and the importance of slowing down. This interview has been lightly edited and condensed for length and clarity.

***

Lola Fadulu: What was your mom’s work schedule like?

Kehinde Wiley: My mother, while raising six kids, had a number of small-business activities. The most prominent one in my memory was sort of like a junk store.

She would be away, in the earliest years, much of the day. Then she would be around more in the late afternoons, evenings. When we weren’t in school, we would be around the shop, and I remember learning Spanish dealing with a lot of the customers there.

Fadulu: Aside from learning Spanish, was there anything else you learned from those times you helped out in the store?

Wiley: I think I learned a sense of making something out of nothing, trying to dust off old items and seeing some level of value in them, recognizing that no one is going to help you.

Fadulu: Did your mom have any particular field or industry that she wanted you or your siblings to go into?

Wiley: Well, I remember as kids, we all had different passions, and she encouraged all of them. My twin brother and I would be going to art school as kids because there was a free program that allowed us to get off of the streets of South Central Los Angeles and spend our weekends studying art.

I remember my mother wanting me to go into preaching. She was taken by the fact that I was quite successful at some oratory competitions. She was going through a particularly religious fervor at that point in her life, and she encouraged me in that direction.

Fadulu: At that point, were you thinking about turning art into a career, or was it more of a hobby?

Wiley: In the beginning, it was much more of a hobby, and much more about just having an outlet for creative energy. Only later did it start to have real personal consequence.

Fadulu: When did that start to change?

Wiley: I was 12 years old. Russia was one of those programs that was a free program. It was an opportunity for me and 50 other American kids to go off into what was then the Soviet Union, and to study art in the forest outside of what was then called Leningrad, and is currently called Saint Petersburg.

We created a series of murals, and we had language classes and cultural exchange. And we would hike off into the forest, pick mushrooms, and swim. It was a strange, magical time. It allowed my sense of what was possible to blossom, at that very important age.

Fadulu: Did you know that you were a good artist when you were 12?

Wiley: Of course. That was my one bit of power in the world. That was the thing that got me positive attention, as opposed to so much negative attention that was coming at so many of my classmates at the time.

Fadulu: Would you consider helping your mom out in the store your first job?

Wiley: It was definitely my first job. I remember thinking about all of those bags and bags of clothes, and trying to figure out how to sort out different colors, and different types of fabrics, and how to organize things in terms of style and age. I remember looking at things that to me seemed like junk, but with a little bit of TLC, a coat of paint or something, is repositioned as something that people are willing to spend good money on.

That was my first job as a kid, but it wasn’t really positioned as a job, because it was just what you do. You lend a hand.

Fadulu: So, what was the first job you had that was positioned as a job?

Wiley: I think my first real job was actually going to work for the art school that I used to go to as a kid. While I was once an 11-year-old student at the Los Angeles County High School for the Arts’ Summer Arts Conservatory, which was housed on the campus of Cal State Los Angeles, I was later as a high-school student recruited, at first, as a teacher’s assistant, and then later as a teacher to teach drawing and painting to youngsters. I was 17 and 18, teaching 9- and 10-year-olds how to paint.

Fadulu: Is that when you were beginning to think about a career in art?

Wiley: My first thought was that no one makes it as a painter. I was just looking around at the landscape of contemporary art, which was pretty dry in Southern California during the ’90s. There was no modeling for success when it came to a job in the arts.

So I thought that my best option would probably be in arts education. So when I went to do my bachelor’s degree in fine arts at the San Francisco Art Institute immediately after high school, I assumed that I would probably study art and become an art teacher. While I enjoyed it very much as a high-school student, I didn’t really have a burning desire to be a teacher. I just knew that that would enable me to support my art habit.

Four years of arts education in San Francisco, then going off to graduate school on the East Coast at Yale, opened up a whole new set of possibilities. And perhaps for the first time I started to glimpse what it might mean to launch a successful career as a painter.

Fadulu: And where did you catch those glimpses of those other possibilities? I know you said you were at Yale, but what exactly were you seeing?

Wiley: What happens there is that while I’m painting in the graduate art studios, I’m also taking trips into the city with my classes, and having conversations with artists in their studios. I remember having classroom trips to art galleries and seeing actual exhibitions I was excited about. Being in the class with professors who are working artists, the light slowly started to turn on, and that sense of imagining myself as one of those people.

But still, there’s a lot of self-doubt, and there was also a really tough regime of criticism that arts education put me through, which enabled me to develop a really thick skin, but also caused me to doubt whether or not I had the chops to make it as a professional artist.

Fadulu: How did you deal with the self-doubt?

Wiley: I think a lot of it was being able to recognize the relative nature of a lot of the arguments that were being made in large classrooms. One art object could give rise to five different arguments, and depending on who was the most convincing, the success or failure of that art object would announce itself. It became increasingly obvious that it had very little to do with the art, and more to do with the environment in which the art was being consumed.

I had a strong sense that this school was an immense place to learn new ideas and histories, but also a potentially toxic place in which you can get caught up within the incredibly specific politics that each school gives rise to, and lose track of the broader target.

Fadulu: And didn’t you go to Nigeria to reconnect with your dad?

Wiley: Well, I connected, period. My father and mother broke up before I was born. He returns to Nigeria, and I’m never to see him until I’m 19. So, 1997,  I just decide on a whim that I’m going to go find him. A lot of it was a lot of buildup, emotional buildup. This constant desire to see who your father is, and just to know that connection. I think on another level it was about pushing myself, and knowing what I’m made of, whether or not I’m capable of pulling something like this off. There was a lot of teenage bravado going on there.

There was this incredible curiosity as a portrait painter, just—what does he look like? I began going to different universities asking if they knew who this guy was. I knew that he studied architecture in America.

So I would go to universities and go to their architecture departments and ask if anyone knew my father, and that didn’t work. Someone finally said that I should go, based on his last name, to southwestern Nigeria, where I then went to the University of Calabar. And his name was on the door of the department. He was the head of the architecture department. And nothing’s been the same since. There was a series of paintings that I did shortly after meeting him for the first time, where I was just obsessed with painting him, getting that out.

Fadulu: Was that trip what you thought it would be?

Wiley: No, not at all. I had this illusion that there would be arms wide open, and music would be playing, and that I would quickly and quite easily recognize this lost side of my African ancestry. And in fact, it was an incredibly difficult and exhausting process to find him. And by the time we did find each other, there was that strange moment of trying to figure out what each other and who each other was. What were my intentions as I showed up? What were my feelings toward him? It was incredibly complicated.

I think I was a bit naïve to think that all of those emotions would just simply be resolved by seeing him. In fact, it became much more difficult to come to terms with the feelings of resentment and abandonment than I had anticipated.

Fadulu: You said you became obsessed with painting portraits of him.

Wiley: There were a number of those that, to this day, I can’t find, because I sold off so much work as an undergrad. One of these days, I have to track this stuff down.

Fadulu: What was going through your mind when you heard from Obama about his portrait?

Wiley: Well, there was never really any point where I had the job. I heard they were considering a number of artists for this, and I was welcomed to be interviewed as they were down to a smaller group. But there was never any point where I just knew, until I knew. Back in 2016 even, I was in the Oval Office, incredibly nervous. And I was interviewing with the president about this potential job, still not knowing what it was going to be, but just feeling incredibly grateful for having been invited to have the conversation.

So every step along the way, it just became more and more real, and more and more possible.

Fadulu: So what was the interview like?

Wiley: Of course the president wanted to know what it is that I would bring to the picture. I spoke really honestly about what excited me about him and me being involved in this historical moment: the sense in which we both share that story of having African fathers and American mothers. That sort of journey to find the father, that yearning to try and create some sort of internationalist presence in our work.

I spoke about the possibilities, allegorically, of telling his story in a painting. And so what you end up with in that painting are some amazing botanicals that are visually captivating, but they also nod toward certain flowers that are prominent in Indonesia, certain leaves that are prominent in Hawaii, the state flower of Illinois, the flowers that are most commonly seen in the grasslands of Kenya.

All of those strange, forest-like spaces are behind him and pushing up and forward. Those were the things that I was discussing as a possibility, and I think that it must’ve set something right.

Fadulu: You said it became more real as you went through the process. Were you working at all on it before it was official?

Wiley: Oh, God, yeah. I had gone to photograph him, and that wasn’t quite right, so I went back and I photographed him again. There were months of just trying to figure out how to artificially create this type of image on the computer and approximate what it would look like, and then start doing studies and see what it looks like in the actual paint. It was a long time coming. But in the end, it was all worth it.

Fadulu: Those months of trying to figure out how to create it—were there any big lessons from that?

Wiley: Just slow down. The more important the portrait, the more nuance the likeness has to have, the slower you have to get. So I had to get smaller brushes, really concentrate on just doing small passages per day, rather than trying to do broad strokes. And so it was a very different type of painting. You can feel it, almost, when you look at that painting, it's a much more contemplative piece. But I got very familiar with his face.

Fadulu: How did you feel about its reception?

Wiley: Well, he told me, “This is what I do, I’m used to the national spotlight, the global spotlight, but you’re new to this, so get ready. It’s gonna be a big deal.” And boy, was it ever.

I’ve never seen a work of art go viral that way and become a global sensation. And, of course, you’re dealing with the culture wars, and powers and principalities, and the Republicans and the Democrats. It did come as a shock to see that people would get so excited as to start sending death notices and threatening letters and all of this.

It’s surprising, but when seen in the proper context, when seen as a type of cultural signpost, when that painting is seen as what it is, which is a moment of celebration for him and his high-water mark within our culture, then you recognize it’s bigger than you are.

[ladystylestores]

Graphic novel on the Tiananmen Massacre shows medium’s power to capture history

As a young man in Beijing in the 1980s, Lun Zhang felt like he was taking part in a new Chinese enlightenment.

The country was undergoing paramount leader Deng Xiaoping’s “Reform and Opening Up,” and previously sealed-off areas of knowledge, arts, and culture were becoming newly available.

People who had only years before been living in the stifling, hyper-Maoist orthodoxy of the Cultural Revolution, in which anything foreign or historical was deemed counter-revolutionary, could now listen to Wham!, hold intellectual salons in which people read Jean-Paul Sartre or Sigmund Freud, or even publish their own works, taking aim at previously sacred political targets.

“In those days, our thirst to read, learn and explore the outside world was insatiable,” Zhang writes in his new graphic novel, “Tiananmen 1989: Our Shattered Hopes.”

But with this intellectual awakening came a growing frustration with the pace of reform in China, particularly how economic liberalization was taking precedence over any suggestion that the Communist Party give up its tight control on the country’s politics.

An apocryphal quote attributed to Deng captured the mood at this time, that “to get rich is glorious,” but for many people, it was increasingly apparent that only a handful were becoming wealthy, while others were suffering due to growing corruption and the destruction of the social safety net.

Small demonstrations against graft and for greater political reform ballooned into what would become the 1989 Tiananmen movement, in which hundreds of thousands of people protested across the country, with the largest demonstration in Beijing led by workers and student groups.

The pro-democracy protesters occupied Tiananmen Square for months, even holding meetings with top officials. At the time, many felt hopeful that these actions would bring about wider societal change in the one-party state.

Crackdown

Zhang was on the square that spring, when the protesters put forward seven demands, including for democratic elections and an end to state censorship. He was there as the crowds paid tribute to the late reformist leader Hu Yaobang, and he was there as the occupiers sang and danced on what had become the people’s square.

He was not there when soldiers opened fire on protesters and fought with them in the streets of the Chinese capital. He was not there when the tanks rolled in. Zhang was in the suburbs of the city with another activist, recuperating in preparation for what some thought would be a last push before the government gave into the protesters’ demands.

“When we heard the army had entered Beijing, we tried to reach the square, but our efforts were in vain,” Zhang writes of when they learned of the bloodshed.

Far from reaching the center of the city, Zhang’s attention turned to escape: the authorities were rounding up prominent protesters and leaders, and he was worried about arrest. He fled first to rural China, eventually becoming one of dozens of Tiananmen protesters smuggled into Hong Kong by activists in the then British colony.

An excerpt from “Tiananmen 1989: Our Shattered Hopes.” Zhang (pictured wearing a sash on the bottom left) was a young sociology teacher in the late 1980s. During protests, he was in charge of management and safety. Credit: IDW Publishing

Graphic novel

Zhang eventually moved to France, where he has lived ever since, and is teaching at the Cergy-Pontoise University near Paris. While he writes about the Chinese economy and geopolitics, he has largely left out his own personal history prior to this month’s publication of his graphic novel.

“I worked with (French journalist) Adrien Gombeaud, who wrote the script for the format,” Zhang told CNN. “We read some graphic novels about historical events, and together came up with the plan, for example, to imagine a theater scene to link all the parts of the story.”

While the Tiananmen Square Massacre has been widely covered in the media and in documentaries, with many focusing on the iconic image of the Tank Man or utilizing archive footage from the square itself, much of the events leading up to the infamous night have been lost to history, available only through witnesses’ accounts. Zhang said that the comics format provided a key means of capturing the emotion of the demonstrations, in a way that does not necessarily come across in text.

“It is difficult to find a satisfactory way in which this kind of big event is reported, in my opinion,” he said. “In some reporting on Tiananmen, the authors didn’t reflect enough on the will of students to cooperate with the authorities in peacefully reforming China.

“When you take into account the emotion involved, we can understand why the peaceful way of demonstration was chosen, why there was the huge hunger strike.”

After the initial script was written, the authors worked with French artist Ameziane to develop the comic’s visuals, by sourcing images of the various characters, and referencing archival photos of era-appropriate objects, such as clothes, cars and teacups from 1980s China. “We spent a lot of time in discussions on how to arrange the scenes, how to convey the essential message, what limits we might have on a given page. It played to the style and skill of our painter,” Zhang said.

The shift in artistic style is most notable in the scenes depicting the massacre itself. Prior pages feature white backgrounds and muted colors, but as the crackdown begins, the pages turn to black, with a heavy use of oranges and reds. Ameziane’s illustrations become looser and full of movement, emphasizing the chaos and panic experienced by the characters.

The book is structured in several acts, with Zhang as its narrator. He said the play format was an obvious storytelling device, given “the protest movement itself felt like a drama, with its different phases akin to great acts.”

Comics journalism

Zhang, Gombeaud and Ameziane’s book joins what has quietly become a major strand of modern comics: graphic journalism or historical comics dealing with topics that were once considered out of the art form’s remit.

American cartoonist Art Spiegelman’s “Maus,” a Pulitzer Prize-winning account of his parents’ experiences as Holocaust survivors — with the Jews depicted as mice and the Nazis as cats — has long been considered a masterwork in the graphic novel genre.

While adult themes and history were features in comics long before “Maus” debuted in 1980, including in Spiegelman’s own work, its use of accessible, black and white art combined with a sweeping historical narrative broke into the mainstream, and set a new standard for “grown up” comics with political subject matter and potentially upsetting content.

Works like Maltese-American Joe Sacco’s ground-breaking comics journalism in “Palestine” or “Safe Area Gorazde,” and French-Iranian Marjane Satrapi’s “Persepolis” have further driven this trend, with the latter turned into an Oscar-nominated movie in 2007.

The popularity of comics and graphic novels has only grown in recent years — with the help of blockbuster film adaptations. This has happened in conjunction with the rise of comics journalism, in everything from newspapers to dedicated publications such as The Nib, which has long recognized the medium’s ability to tackle serious issues, interweaving reporting with satirical cartoons.

Sacco has talked about how the use of comics, the presentation of the artist and writer as a figure in the story, helps remove “the illusion that a journalist is a fly on the wall, all seeing and all knowing.”

“To me, drawing myself signals to the reader that I’m a filter between the information, the people and them. They know that I’m a presence, and that they’re seeing things through my eyes,” he said in a recent interview.

This is very much apparent in Zhang’s book, as he uses his role as narrator to critique both the protest movement and himself.

“Tiananmen 1989: Our Shattered Hopes” cover. Credit: IDW Publishing

Asked once about whether drawing helped him deal with being the child of Holocaust survivors, Spiegelman answered: “I’ve had therapy, and I’ve made comics. The comics are cheaper.”

Part of “Maus” deals with Spiegelman’s guilt over his difficult relationship with his father and in comparing his problems with depression and work to the experiences of his parents. Zhang too writes in “Tiananmen” of his own survivor’s guilt and of questioning his decisions made as a younger man in the midst of history.

In an interview, Zhang said he did not write about Tiananmen for so long, because his role, his involvement, seemed inconsequential compared to what some went through.

“The way I saw it, there were many people dead or wounded in the aftermath, and many people lost their jobs; their families were never the same after,” he said. “The real heroes were the ordinary students and people in (Beijing) and other cities. By comparison, what I did personally didn’t seem worth telling. The most important thing I could do was live my life in a way that wouldn’t dishonor the dead.”

He was eventually convinced by an editor to write the book last year, around the 30th anniversary of the massacre. “She convinced me that I had a duty to the memory of that time,” Zhang said. “I accepted it. ‘No justice, no peace,’ but I think also, ‘No memory, no justice.'”

“Tiananmen 1989: Our Shattered Hopes,” published by IDW Publishing, is out now.

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[the-record-columns]

April 24, 2019: Columns

Call your mother...

                Cary Welborn

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

Just three short weeks ago I wrote about the death of my father, Rev. C. S. Welborn, in March of 1995.

This Friday, April 26, will be the anniversary of the death of my mother, Cary. She was a widow but 30 days.

About two weeks after my dad died, mother told me and my brother, T. A., that she was going to "...go be with your daddy."  In the 10 or 15 years prior to that, she wouldn't have changed brand of dish detergent without first running it by T. A.

This was different.

She was clear, she was sure, and she assured us of two things in that conversation—first that we would be fine—she had raised us well and it was natural to bury your parents. Then she ended the conversation with her second comment—her oft noted thankfulness that she never had to bury a child—that, in her words, was "...unnatural" or "...out of order."

About two weeks later, she went to sleep surrounded by her family on the evening of April 25, after listening to a series of hymns sung by an amazingly kind soul named Floranna Williams.  She died peacefully in the early morning hours that followed.

It never changes for me. 

It still seems like a blink of the eye, though 24 years have passed.  I still feel like I am 8 years old picking blackberries for my mother with Mark Goodman for the cobbler we would shortly devour. I am at my birthday party when I was 7 where even my crabby first grade teacher showed up.  Her name was Minnie Horton and she had literally struck terror in the hearts of Hinshaw Street’s "Great Unwashed."   And, speaking of teachers, I had Miss Elizabeth Finley in the second grade—literally going from the frying pan into the fire.

But, in fairness, I must quote my once feared but now revered elementary school principal, Conrad Shaw, that "...none of us were any worse for the wear."

I have heard my mother say it is all right to spoil a child if you spoil him with love, and she practiced what she preached. I often remind all that I was my mother, Cary's, baby boy, but the truth is we were all blessed with a kind and caring mother who went far beyond being a wonderful cook and homemaker.

She taught us to live by the simple rule of treating everyone as we would like to be treated, assuring us that helping others would always be reward enough in itself.  I will never forget the last meal my mother fixed for me in August of 1994—for my birthday.  As I sat eating myself under the table, she sat smiling, saying little but with eyes that spoke volumes about this slight, frail woman who wanted nothing more than to see her baby boy happy.

I know my mother overdid it that day.  Once again she had put the welfare or happiness of someone else ahead of her own, a trait for which she is often remembered.

During the time when my father was beginning to fade away, what I didn't know was that she would not let him go by himself.  Or, perhaps more to the point, that he would be waiting—impatiently—for her to arrive.

So. 

 Twenty four years have gone by.  Now, more than ever, I treasure the memories of my mother, I treasure the lessons I learned at her feet, I treasure the kindness she showed me and everyone she met, and, perhaps most of all, I have come to truly appreciate what unconditional love is.

Clearly, to know my mother, Cary, was to love her, but to love her like I loved her is also to miss her terribly.  No one could ever put things better that the late Lewis Grizzard who once wrote, "Call your mother—I sure wish I could."

Oh, how I wish I could.

                                                  Cary Potts Welborn

                                         April 13, 1916-April 26, 1995

                                                     Rest in Peace

  “It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine”

By HEATHER DEAN

Record Reporter

If you’re reading this, congratulations!

You have survived the rapture!

Last week I read an article where Fox news reported that prominent “Christian Numerologist” David Meade predicted the Rapture for April 23 according to Biblical prophecy. (For those of you unfamiliar with the belief, some Christians think they will rise in the sky and meet Jesus at the end of the world.)

My immediate thought went straight to the compassion of Christ. Most rapture days are random numbers thrown into a regularly mundane week. Not this time. It’s two days after Easter, so not only are we all rising within days of when Christ did, but we got time to digest Easter dinner and all the candy. Can I get an Amen?

Back to the theory: Based on Revelation 12:1–2, Meade says our time marker is the alignment the moon appearing under the feet of the Constellation Virgo, the sun appearing to “clothe” Virgo, the nine stars of Leo, and the three planetary alignments of Mercury, Venus and Mars –combine to make a count of 12 stars on the head of Virgo, represent a unique once-in-a-century sign exactly as depicted in the verses, which all happen on April 23.  

Of course, Meade also says that Nibiru (planet x) is responsible for this alignment will appear above the sky causing volcanic eruptions, tsunamis and earthquakes. Never mind that NASA has repeatedly pointed out that planet is a hoax, and put out a statement saying, “No giant, rogue planet has been found in the outer solar system to play the role of Nibiru.” But that doesn’t stop it from popping up in forecasts of doom.

That being said, if the rapture happens there will inadvertently be some of us left. Hopefully you have a plan B for the post-rapture world. I hope there will be more dance numbers, special effects and background music in everyday life.

However, if you don’t have a plan, allow me to suggest a few things:

Practice cursive handwriting- it’s becoming quite a lost art and I’m tired of trying to translate chicken scratch. In fact, work on penmanship all together.

Increase your vocabulary. If you find yourself running pell mell down the sidewalk after assuming you’d be taken, use ratiocination and coddiwomple to the closet library. There’s nothing that your favorite book and a nice cup of tea can’t fix.

Try to be a good human. It never fails to amaze me that the most hateful people wonder “why me” when they get hit by a fruit truck.  

Saturday people followed by Sunday people

By EARL COX

Special to The Record

Today, the United  States and other democracies around the world face the most insidious ideological threat in history. What I’m referring to is the political, religious, secular and legal doctrine and system known as Sharia which governs the Islamic world.  

There are more than fifty Muslim majority countries on earth with close to two billion adherents of the Islamic faith.  This figure  represents more than 22 percent of the world’s population.  If their philosophy were to “live and let live,” there would be no rising threat.  However, their goal is not peaceful coexistence but rather the domination and annihilation of all who do not worship Allah and they will settle for nothing less.  The best tool against the global ambitions of militant Islamists is to have an educated and well-informed populace.  Burying our heads in the sand and remaining ignorant of the evil forces at play in the world around us will only allow this danger to grow. 

Israel is on the frontlines of the world’s war on terror and the fight against the cancerous spread of radical Islam.  We’ve all heard the saying, “Know your enemy.”  Well, Israel is under no false illusions.  She knows that Islamic terror groups such as Hamas, Hezbollah, Fatah, Al Aqsa Martyrs' Brigade, Muslim Brotherhood, ISIS, Al-Shabaab, and Boko Haram, to name only a few, have their sights laser focused on the destruction of Israel. 

According to Islamic teaching, there is no room in this world for infidels which, when translated, means Jews and Christians must be killed. That, my friends, means you and me. 

Sadly, many Christians today are fairly uninformed about the ever-growing threats facing Israel from her Arab neighbors.  Imagine Iran with nuclear weapons whose brand of Islamic militancy knows no bounds.  Israel fully recognizes that, “if your enemy says they are going to kill you, believe them.” Here in the United  States we’ve been a bit slower at learning this lesson in favor of political correctness and appeasement.  Remember, Islam is determined to destroy the Saturday people followed by the Sunday people.  We must believe them or suffer the consequences.  How did it happen that those counted among America’s enemies have offices in the Congress of the United States? 

“We the People” no longer collectively embrace the same values and beliefs upon which our great country was founded.  We’ve pushed God out of our schools and other institutions and opened the door for Allah.  Are we still a Christian nation?  In Europe, less than 50% of the population claims to be Christian. On the other hand, Israel is holding fast and firm to her Jewishness and her right to exist as a Jewish state.  No matter the peace deal placed on the table, for Israel this is nonnegotiable.  Those of us in America who still love God and embrace the fundamental values upon which our country was founded, must stand up and be counted and we must stand with Israel, our only true friend and ally in the Middle East. 

 Whiskey, Cornbread and a guest from Denmark

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolinas

It was a nice week.

Spring was showing off her fresh colors and the pollen count was high; but then it rained, and the wind blew much of the beautiful misery away.  

Saturday was stable enough for the Copper Barrel Distillery annual event, Shinetopia; an outdoor benefit concert, cook-off and car show around the heritage of moonshine.  

Everyone seemed to be having a great time. The Moon Runners Food Truck’s meatloaf on a stick was a huge hit. Cameraman Tim said the delightful meatloaf, snugly wrapped with bacon and glazed with a BBQ moonshine sauce, was a treat fit for Nordic nobility. Shiners Stash Jerky was another big hit, with their sample of moonshine infused jerky with various flavor profiles.

Listing to story-teller Dub Harris recount tales of moonshiners from his youth, it was not hard to imagine them in the woods making a fresh batch of whiskey and chewing on some jerky to fuel the long hours of work.

And then I met Ila Dean Hayes who had two submissions for the corn bread cook off. She is a charming lady with children and grandchildren who unconditionally love her rendition of traditional corn bread.

“It’s important that it’s made in a cast iron skillet that has a slight outward slop,” she said.

With such a glowing review, pride in her culinary mastery and endorsements by so many who love her, I naturally ask for the recipe.

My request was somewhat fulfilled in that she did share the simple list of ingredients; however, she did not share the amounts because she has never used exact measurements. For Ila, it’s a feeling about how much is right. She just knows how much to use and that’s the way it is.

She did share that for many years she has only used the fresh ground cornmeal from Linneys Mill. “It’s fresh and it taste good,” she said.

Ila knows how to carry on a good conversation. I was honored to get to know her and I was pleased to see at the end of the day that with steep completion, Ila received two mentions for her traditional cornbread submissions; An honorable mention for one and second place for another; however there is no doubt in my mind that for those who love Ila, she always comes in first place.

A few days later I visited with Jan Kronsell from Denmark.

Over the past 19 years, he has taken vacation in the United States and 14 of the 19 years he has visited the Carolinas. He often stays in a bed and breakfast because he feels as if he gets to know the local area better. We had a great visit and made plans to visit again when Jan and his family return to the U.S. for summer travels. Jan is one of the many who have become captivated by Tom Dooley’s story. It’s interesting that a person form Denmark would take on the task of learning so much about our legendary Tom Dooley, so much so that Jan recently released a novella on the subject titled, “The Doctor’s Secret.” Another book is in the works as well.

The Carolinas have many fascinations that spark the curious nature of those not from here. It’s a nice thing to take a moment and get to know those who visit. In doing so, we make new friends who will often visit again.

 Carl White is the Executive Producer and Host of the award-winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In The Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its 10th year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturday’s at noon and My 12. The show also streams on Amazon Prime. For more information visit www.lifeinthecarolinas.com. You can email Carl at Carl@lifeinthecarolinas.com

[miggy-figgy]

THE FIRST LADY

By: Miguel Figueroa

Forget everything you know. Jackie O who? Come again, I beg your pardon, but I don’t know who this Carla Bruni-Sarkozy is. Michelle Obama is so early 2009 and frankly, my dear I don’t give an Iberic Ham about Sonsoles Espinosa. Forget about the Pill Box Hats, the supermodels-cum-wife of the President, the Mugler ensembles worn by the new Mrs. O and First Wife’s who choose to live a life of secrecy. To us at Candy, our First Lady is Ms. Christine Jorgensen, the first female transsexual from the United States. Christine did it all…Original Socialite, Pop Singer, Cabaret Performer, Photographer and Filmmaker who became an instant sensation when she got the good ol’ U. S. of A. all shook up after her Botticellean transformation from a woman trapped in a man’s body into a lady with impeccable taste, a sharp tongue and a groundbreaking fresh as a lettuce attitude whom was able to turn notoriety into such a cult icon status that not even Chantal Biya can come close to her. Honey, she even played Dior to Judy!

            Christine Jorgensen’s came into the world on May 30th 1926 at the Community Hospital in Manhattan when George Jorgesen Jr., son of George Jorgensen and Florence Davis Hansen, brother of Dorothy Florence Jorgensen was conceived. Mrs. Jorgensen raised her tight knit children in the booming pre-Depression era of the 1920’s on Dudley Avenue in the Bronx. Even though George Jr. and Dorothy were inseparable and her paternal grandmother, whom George enjoyed picking violets for, played a key element of her upbringing, Christine does not blame her female surroundings with the fact that she was a woman trapped in a man’s body. At age four he made it clear that something was suspicious when he asked her mother, “Mom, why didn’t God makes us alike?”, about the physical differences between him and his sister his mother replied, “You see Brud [Christine’s nickname], it’s one of God’s surprises.” George Jr. just said, “Well, I don’t like the kind of surprise God made me!”

Growing up, Christine admits that in order to follow the normal pattern of development she needed help, not ridicule. Fortunately, her personal world embraced little Brud, his shyness and awkward stances towards boys of his age. His grandmother never pushed him to be a man and when a teacher discovered that George kept hidden on his school desk one of his grandmother’s needlepoint’s which he treasured, and called his mother to ridicule him in front of the class, he received nothing but love and support. His sister, as a college student, used him as a college subject experiment on the influence women have over Children, in this case boys, while growing up and their feminization. Although there were some pebbles on the way that were easily passed by, growing up as a child all the way to his teens non-fiction fairy tales always surrounded Christine’s life. Her paternal grandfather came from Odense, Denmark birthplace of Hans Christian Andersen, meanwhile his maternal grandfather, John Kreogh Hansen was a painter who’s greatest assignment was assisting the French painter Paul César Helleu in the creation of Grand Central Station’s original ceiling. Also, according to Jorgensen’s autobiography, her Father, in his teens, was obsessed with the birth of radio communication and heard the “Titanic” distress signal on 1912 in his transistor radio, while she was witness of the Hindenburg passing a top of her house moments before meeting its fate. 

At the age of 16 George Jr. lands his first job as a librarian. A string of odd jobs as news editor for RKO Pathé News, a driver and even a supermarket clerk followed, moving along New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Minneapolis. After finishing High School, he enrolls in New York’s Institute of Photography, a passion that was bestowed upon him by his father, a photo aficionado, hoping that in the future he could lead the life of a glamorous photographer, immortalizing the likes of Greta Garbo, Barbara Stanwyck and Bette Davis. After finishing photography school and in between odd jobs, George Jr. in his search to belong somewhere and to make his parents proud joined the Armed Forces in 1945, at age 19, landing a clerical job in Fort Dix, New Jersey. Due to his thin, and delicate 98-pound (about 45 kilos) frame, after 14 months, he was discharged.

During his brief stay in Los Angeles, George begins to discuss his anatomical conundrums, confiding in two girl friends that something is different about him. He “comes out” admitting that he has the body of an underdeveloped male yet his emotions are female. His friends, dumbfounded by this news, support George but tell him to seek medical attention. Upon his return to the East Coast he enrolls in the Progressive School of Photography in New Haven, Connecticut to continue his photographic preparation and begins to research on Endocrinology by reading news that a Doctor in that city was experimenting with hormones turning chickens into roosters. George figures that he’s got nothing (and never had anything) to lose and pays him a visit. After telling Dr. Harold Grayson his “problem”, the visit halts to a complete screeching stop. Dr. Grayson sends George to visit Dr. Reznick, a psychiatrist who recommends an evasive treatment to drive inclinations. Let’s not forget that at this time in the late 40’s we still had a long, long way to go before today’s sexual panacea and lobotomies were as common as Botox nowadays.

These two encounters didn’t deter George’s search to find a solution to whom he really was. He continued looking for answers and on one of his numerous visits to the library stumbled upon Paul de Kruif’s book The Male Hormone that served as opened floodgates to his research. This groundbreaking book established that both males and females indeed have genetic traits from each other’s sex. The investigation continued and led him to medical journals from France and Germany that analyzed cases of hermaphrodism, pseudo-hermpahrodism and other “sexual abnormalities”. After he finished photography school his determination led him to continue his studies, not in Visual Arts, but in the field of Medicine. George Jorgensen Jr. was a man on a mission and thus, on 1949 he enrolled at the Manhattan Medical and Dental Assistant’s School where he learned X-ray and laboratory technician courses letting him know how the body and its internal chemical contents worked. All the while, he continued reading and re-reading de Kruif’s book where he discovered that the author of the book talked about the female hormone estradiol, a prominent sex hormone present in females and in very small percentages amongst males, which was available in hormone supplement for women. George decided he needed to get his hand on this medicine so the next day he drove to a pharmacy, ordered the usual medication and 100 tablets of high-potency Ethinyl estradiol. Unbeknown to the situation and after George said he was a medical student who needed the medicine to run some tests, the pharmacist simply handed him exactly what George wanted. He went to his car, opened the bottle, ignored the warning label that stated NOT TO BE TAKEN WITHOUT THE ADVICE OF A DOCTOR and washed down a single pill with water. On the next day, he felt nothing, yet continued taking a single pill each night. On the eight day, he woke up feeling sensitivity and development around his breasts, also, his usual fatigue and languidness was gone. It may have taken God six days to create Eve, but it took George and additional 48 hours to start becoming Christine Jorgensen.

After realizing that the pills would do up to so much, Christine relied on a good friend he met in medical school by the name of Genevive Angelo whose husband was a doctor. Gen, as Christine calls her, was aware of George’s differences and put him in contact with her husband immediately who after a consultation discussed with him sexual transformations done by doctors overseas, which started in the 1930’s. What sets Christine’s case apart prior to hers is that homosexuality or hermaphrodism was involved. Christine was neither nor the other. During her life as a man, she had been propositioned twice for gay sex and the situations abominated her to the point in which in one occasion she vomited. Christine Jorgensen was a heterosexual woman born in a man’s body and she needed to go to Europe to work on herself. After exchanging correspondence with Dr. Grayson and confirming this information from him as well, the decision was clear. George Jorgensen saved up a couple hundred of dollars, told his family that he was going to reconnect with his European family and on May 11th, 1950 arrived in Denmark on a one-way ticket to his new life.

Christine settled in with Helen, her friend and confidant from Los Angeles, and her family a few weeks later, she’d check in the at the Seruminstitut where she would meet her future doctor and friend Dr. Christian Hamburger whom was recommended to her by Helen’s doctors. Once the consultation had ended, Dr. Hamburger offered Christine the chance of a lifetime. If she would acknowledge becoming a guinea pig for hormone research, the operation would be free of charge. On a letter to Dr. Joe and Gen back home she told them “Just refer to me as guinea pig 0000!” The George Jorgensen to Christine Jorgensen transformation had now officially begun. 

Tests begun in August and George started carrying around on a daily basis what he jokingly called a yor mor taske , Dutch for “midwife’s bag”, containing daily urine samples to test her hormone levels. Christine’s medical dream team would be rounded up with Dr. Georg Stürup who would deal with the psychological aspect of the transformation. Right before she was set to go under the knife, the Danish Government tried to stop the initial operation due to the fact that Mr. Jorgersen was not a Danish citizen. After Dr. Stürup advocated to Justice Minisitry and Denmark’s Attorney General, Helga Pedersen, a women’s right activist, the veto was revoked and the operation continued it’s steer course. After paying a $30 fee, on September 24th, 1951 the first of three operations, the removal of George’s testicles, was conducted. Days prior his 26th birthday, George visited the American Embassy to change the name on his passport and in honor of Dr. Christian Hamburger, on May 1952 Christine Jorgensen, 5’7”, 120 pounds was born. For her first ensemble as a woman she chose an elegant green skirt, pale brown jacket and brown suede shoes and headed to the Beauty Parlor. She continued her work as amateur photographer and filmmaker documenting Denmark and on June of that year broke the news to her parents in a heartfelt letter, which included photos taken of her transformation “You have lost a son, but gained somebody new.” As soon as they received the letter they replied immediately via cablegram: LETTER AND PICTURES RECEIVED. WE LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVER, MOM AND DAD.  Her mother and sister could not hold on to their excitement and indulged on reckless shopping sprees for their new daughter and sister.

Her second operation, the removal of any remaining “maleness”, performed by Dr. Paul Fogh-Andersen and Erlig Dahl-Iversen occurred in November 20th, 1952, 13 months after the initial operation. Even though she was operated in a public hospital that lacked private bedrooms, accommodations were made for Christine to have a suite all to her own. While recuperating, news of her transformation reached US Shores. Her father wrongfully confided in one of his friend who sold the news to the New York Daily News for $200 and on December 7th, 1952 the newspaper’s headline read BRONX GI BECOMES A WOMAN. DEAR MOM AND DAD SON WROTE, I HAVE NOW BECOME YOUR DAUGHTER. A cablegram was hand delivered by a journalist from the Information, a Danish newspaper, looking for a quick interview. Obviously, her plan backfired. Christine could feel nothing but remorse, resentment and rage. At the same moment, another cablegram is sent to Ms. Jorgensen. This time it was her mother, to tell her that her beloved Aunt Edie has passed away. Years later, in her audio memoirs, Christine Jorgensen Reveals, she tells us that her psychiatrist feared that this moment would’ve been her breaking point. She was aware of what she had become and as any serious and smart woman under pressure; she kept her posture absolutely calm.

Up to this point Christine lived a frugal life in Denmark. Besides her life savings, her mother sent her $10 a week as well as film equipment for the documentary she was making about Denmark which would end up becoming the first color film about the country. The penny picking was soon about to change. Immediately after the news arrived, offers started pouring in via telegram (for you kids out there…it was our grandparents alternative to e-mail). Everybody wanted Christine – Warner Brothers in Hollywood, The Copa Club in Pittsburgh, The 46th Street Theatre and The New York Press Photographers at the Big Apple. Offers even came from New Orleans Strip Club performances at $500 a night. Dr. Hamburger also received a deluge of requests from around the world for sex change operations. Journalists, who camped out the Jorgensen’s residence, blackmailed her parents, who would finally reunite with Christine on Christmas 1952 at Denmark, if they did not cooperate with them. Christine caused sexual revolution that such journalistic raucous not been seen until Betty Ford’s family intervention or Monica’s little blue Gap dress.

Christine Jorgensen would not stay mum for much longer. She accepted to publish her tell-all story on six installments in American Weekly magazine for a cool $20,000 dollars. The feature would coincide with Christine’s arrival on New York’s JFK Airport then known as Idlewild Airport on February 13th, 1953. Her departure from Denmark was cause of a grand celebration amongst friends, so big that she almost missed her flight. Reporters documented every bit of her life, including her choice of travel luggage. One journalist mentioned that one of her cases that contained almost 3 and half years of her life in Denmark was a box of petal soft toilet tissue to which Christine said in her autobiography, “I’ve always traveled in a grand manner.” On a press junket with international members of the press, a British Journalists asked her if she was worried about her reception in the U.S. hence all the media frenzy; her response “Why should I be?” Once she boarded the plane, and a few hours prior her arrival, it hit her: the anonymous life she’d wanted as a woman would not happen. “In my long, painful search for a normal life, I had created a paradox: a life that was to be, for me, abnormal and unconventional.” She was now on the road, or shall we say up in the air, to become a bona fide household name.

When the Scandinavian Airlines flight landed she was received by total and utter pandemonium that wouldn’t be matched until 10 years later when 4 Britons stepped off a Pan Am flight arriving from the United Kingdom. Reporters were everywhere, flashes were ablazin’, everybody wanted a piece of Christine. She felt she had stepped of into a scene from Dante’s Inferno and panicked; she thought “Pull yourself together. This, as everything else, must pass”. Countess Alexandra of Rosenberg, who was on the flight with her, a relative of the King of Denmark was subdued to mere coach status. Christine tittered and tattered through the chaos, holding on to her books, purse and train case while keeping her outfit, including her mink coat, hat with diamante broach, and gloves intact. Once inside, she gave an instant press conference; as everyone wanted a reaction she simply replied to all "I am very happy to be back and I don't have any plans at the moment and I thank you all for coming but I think it's too much."

Her arrival was skyrocketing. The American Weekly story was translated into 14 languages and published in 70 countries. With the money she earned she was able to build her parents their dream house where she settled in with them. Christine received over 20,000 letters from around the globe, some even postmarked “Christine Jorgensen, United States”. Of all the fan mail, only a handful was derogatory, while the rest of tens of thousands were congratulatory notes to her and her parents. Even when she went to renew her drivers license, she was followed everywhere by the paparazzi. The press continued for weeks to have her as a Cover Girl. The In-Crowd lauded Christine’s presence; Ladies Luncheons with original Perez Hilton, Elsa Maxwell, Elaine Carrington and Margaret Case, Vogue Magazine’s Society Editor with special appearance by an impressed Cole Porter and a one to one with Truman Capote. On March 7th, in front of 5,000 guests, including Mr. and Mrs. Jorgensen, the Scandinavian Societies of Greater New York named her Woman of the Year. She reluctantly hired an agent, Charlie Yates, who would handle all the Jorgensenmania for two years until his sudden death in 1955. Her original ambiguity towards a life of sing, dance and pizzazz came because all she really wanted to be was a photographer. Years later, on a TV interview she’d  set the records straight on her fame, “Making a living of life is cashing in on it. Then I did, and I suppose I don’t regret it”.

On her first visit to LA, she was bashed by the Californian city, because they believed (and oh, how they have changed) that you couldn’t simply sell an act by its name. After this incident, Christine travels back to England to film the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth. Back in the states, on August 9th, at the Copa Club in Pittsburgh she, alongside her performance partner Myles Bell, gives her first song and dance act. She receives an invitation from Dr. Alfred Kinsey to be interviewed at the Institute for Sex Research at Indiana University. She��s banned from performing for the Army and in Boston, the Sahara Hotel in Las Vegas refused to let her perform until she could present proof that she was a woman, yet, after her shows at the Copa, the offers started pouring in and they were officially in business. Critics were courteous with her saying that “She sings like an off-key Garbo” and “Nobody expected anything and all they got was Gravy.” Christine became a fashion icon, she was a vivacious woman draped in the latest 50's fashions: ball gowns with mink stoles, silk cocktail dresses, full skirts, swing skirts, tea dresses, tiaras, kimonos, her hair, coiffed in a permanent wave, apron styled swimsuits, and lets not forget...hats, gloves and estate jewlery to match. Lest not forget: red lips. She even sparked her first impersonator and instead of suing her, she settled for a gentlewoman’s apology and when in Miami, a deranged woman tried to pull her hair off, thinking it was a wig, she simply walked away and had people take care of it. She traveled to perform in Philadelphia, Washington DC, Cuba, Miami, New York and Dallas. She had a pop hit in Cuba called “Christine of Denmark” and finally, the owners and showgirls of the Sahara Hotel had to shut their trap, issuing an apology, when they saw that Christine Jorgensen was a gold mine.

Did I mention that all of this happened in 1953?

Christine took a small break in the early summer of 1954 for her third and final operation, a vaginoplasy performed in a small hospital in New Jersey. Christine now had the body of a woman who’d have a hysterectomy and was at peace with the fact that she could not bear children. She was as complete a person as she’d dream of being emotionally and physically. After she was ready to get back on track, she went off to Sweden where her fans waited for her anxiously and with such candor that she ended up staying an extra 3 weeks for an unscheduled cabaret show. Her fame instigated the rumor mil full speed on, bogus affairs with Vanderbilt and Woolworth heirs. Had she lived today these dangerous liaisons would’ve been with a Casiraghi or an heir to PPR. Muy CANDY Caliente! 

Just as Christine was to act in her first role as an actress on the play “To Dorothy, A Son”, Charlie Yates died playing golf with Bob Hope in Palm Springs on January 9th, 1955. Christine was devastated, she thought of not continuing with the play but solid as a rock, she continued and delivered a great performance. It was a year of big changes. Her manager died, she gained a new show partner, Mr. Lee Wyler, after breaking up her career with Myles Bell and during a trip to Venezuela she faced heavy interrogation by the Police in order to enter the country. She was even accused of being a Communist for making a quote on quote “non-American” comment at the time of her return from Denmark. All the while, she perfected her impersonations of Tallulah Bankhead and Marlene Dietrich, whom she would to homage all the way into her death. Christine also found herself amongst the religious ones. She was invited to appear in Jewish and Masonic centers, leaving the latter aghast when she told them that as a young George Jr. she was a member of the Demolay International, a Massonic group for teenage MEN whose hall of fame included Walt Disney and Bill Clinton.

The last years of the 50’s saw her shuffling through agents and having troubles with the IRS. She was $30,000 in debt with her taxes and agreed to record the LP, Christine Jorgensen Reveals, thinking it would be a success, yet it flopped in sales. Looking back on it and listening to it more than 50 years it was recorded, the album is a masterpiece. Christine battled out aggravating questions about her sexuality, being a woman and banal questions on body hair, dating, cruising and the army. She came out a winner while she KO’d telling him that if she had not changed, she wouldn’t have adapted, but rather receded into the world and when she was lauded for making Denmark a household name she told Mr. Russell;  “Denmark did not need me to be famous. It had blue cheese before me.”

The subject of love was always one of a delicate manner. Cupid and Christine weren’t exactly BFF’s. As George, she had a handful of platonic lovers that never consummated beyond wishful thinking. Then on 1959 her friend Howard Knox proposes marriage. Christine says yes. Once they got to City Hall with all the necessary papers, the lawyers found a legal loophole. Christine’s birth certificate still had male as the specified gender. Even though her Passport, Drivers License and NYPD Cabaret Card enlisted her as female, the fact that she never changed her sex in her birth certificate vetoed any possibilities of marriage. She was even recognized as a female by the World Health Organization; yet, down at City Hall they simply did not budge an inch to help. Christine and Howard took to the media, seeking their support, yet, it dug them a deeper grave with Howard losing his job as a labor-union worker. Eventually, they would break up. She had a 2nd engagement years later that also faded into thin air. “I was never in love with the men I was engaged to and I was never engaged to the men I was in love with.” She was as stern when it came to her love-induced-independence as much as she wanted to become a photographer. In the 1984 documentary Paradise Not for Sale, 58 year-old Christine states: "Loving is wonderful, but falling in love is very stupid. I don't think I'd like to marry. I'm free. I do exactly what I want. I live in a manner to which I prefer. I've had men in my life, but I've never let a man move into my house. I'm very selfish; I don't have to bargain with anybody to do what I want. I play hard, I drink hard, I smoke hard and I do everything to a point of excess." For Ms. Belanger, organizer of christinejorgensen.org, Christine’s resentment towards real relationship was due to her surgery setbacks, performed at a time when sex changes were at a premature stage. She says; “if she had been able to have had the quality of MTF surgery that is offered today, her life would not have been so guarded. She's very much a heterosexual woman, but not really being able to fully experience that was a disappointment."

Ending the decade with a bang, Christine gave Los Angeles a second try and they welcomed her with open arms. She settled into a bungalow at the notorious Chateau Marmont, moving door to door with Eroll Flynn’s recent widow (as fresh as the day prior to her arrival!) and soon became good friends. All the biggest stars wanted to rub elbows with Christine, Natalie Wood, Esther Williams, Robert Wagner, Betty Garble, Ann Miller and Judy Garland just to name a humble few. The night she met Judy she was advised not to talk about Ms. Garland’s weight problems, telling her people “What do you think I’m going to say? ‘Hello, Fat Lady?!’” Tensions disappeared once they met; Judy asked Christine for fashion advise after admiring Christine’s look, she told her that women of her frame should not wear such tight-fitting clothes rather a black velvet toreador pant, a stiff, stand-out jacket with a mandarin collar encrusted with jewels, and adding the comfort of flat shoes. “That means no girdles!” Judy said. Needless to say, a couple of weeks later, Christine felt like a modern day Formichetti when she saw Ms. Garland wearing exactly what she had told her!

            In the early sixties she took her show on the road to Australia, Honolulu, Hong Kong and Manila deciding then to settle on the West Coast as her new base. She was lauded for her work on the other side of the Pacific; the Philippines proclaimed her as “the best Goodwill Ambassador America has sent us in years!” Although living a life of money, fame, success and glamour Christine was flat out broke. On her final trip to Manila she returned home with only $5 to her name. The rest of the decade she’d live a frugal life back in New York, settling in for the Theatre and shows here and there, as Cabaret acts were becoming a distant and dated memory. In 1963 her father would pass away, 5 years later so would her mother after a long battle with Cancer. In 1967 her tell-all autobiography, Christine Jorgensen A Personal Autobiography, would sell 500,000 copies on its first hardcover edition. After the death of her mother she moved permanently to California, becoming an advisor on the movie, the Christine Jorgensen Story, released in 1970. The movie is beyond bogus camp. Christine is loosely portrayed, including absurd and untrue stories like that of a cross-dressing George Jr. and visits to prostitutes while in the Service. On set she met an actress you may have heard of called Mae West who was working in the next lot starring in Myra Breckinridge becoming good friends, she also befriended 1962 Playboy Playmate June Wilkinson who thought when they met that Christine prettier than her! The rest of the decade she became a fixture in universities across the country giving lectures on transgender issues. 

            Christine attempted a comeback in the 80’s with a cabaret act entitled “I enjoy Being a Girl!” after Flower Drum Song’s signature song. She strutted and trotted around comedy clubs in over the top costumes and headpieces, belting out show tunes like “Falling in Love Again”, “Welcome to My World” and her act’s title. This new Christine had no qualms about anything; she voiced her comedic resentment towards Hollywood “they took everything” and “this Raquel Welch woman” who apparently was not in Ms. Jorgensen’s best graces. She also talked about working on a new autobiography, and I quote “suggested title ‘After the Ball’”. If you’ve turned into a bona fide Christine Jorgensen fan (which you should be if you’ve come this far) I recommend downloading this recording, available in Itunes. In 1984 Christine returned to Denmark to work on the documentary Paradise Not For Sale, reuniting Christine with her beloved Dr. Hamburger and Dr.Stürup, hoping it would be picked up by Northamerican Cable Television, two clips from this very hard to find documentary can be found in Youtube. Upon her return from Denmark she took nude photos and shopped them to Playboy. Hugh Hefner declined the offer, yet Christine was unstoppable. Or so she thought; three years later she was diagnosed with bladder and lung cancer. During her chemotherapy sessions she didn’t change her lifestyle continuing to smoke and drink her vodka rocks. On May 3rd 1989 she died. For this article, I got in touch with Ms. Brenda Lane Smith, Christine’s flat-mate for the last six months of her life. When I requested a statement she declined to comment on Ms. Jorgenen.

            Christine’s legacy lives on to this day. If it weren’t for her courage and strength to become adversity and be happy for whom she really was, all while wearing mink, the transgender community would not have its First Lady. For Ms. Belanger, "Christine was a real pioneer for what she needed to do. She had no support group or peers for information. She was able to find a needle in a haystack in her trip to Denmark and the world for so many is better for it." Christine kicked ignorance by the balls and she says she gave the sexual revolution “a good quick swift in the pants”. Her living family remembers her dearly, her nieces and cousins remember fondly playing dress-up at Auntie Chris’. Now who wouldn’t want to go home to their aunt and get to wear fabulous heels, jewelry and fur coats? I would most certainly do. Christine said that there were three things she would have until the day she died: laughter and hope and a good sock in the eye. For her funeral, she didn’t want a somber remembrance, she had carefully organized a party for all her friends to laugh and remember her. When it was time for the toast, they all lifted their vodka on the rocks for Christine. Even at home, every day was a holiday; she kept a Christmas tree year round to remind herself of her good life. Christine Jorgensen, first Lady of Candy Magazine, I raise my Stoli on the Rocks for you. Originally published in the second issue of Candy Magazine - The First Transversal Style Magazine - Fall/Winter 2010-2011  

[pnwdoodlesreads]

Black Power ABC's

Who’s On The Cards?

A is for Angela Davis

Angela Yvonne Davis, activist, educator, scholar, and politician, was born on January 26, 1944, in the “Dynamite Hill” area of Birmingham, Alabama.  The area received that name because so many African American homes in this middle class neighborhood had been bombed over the years by the Ku Klux Klan.  Her father, Frank Davis, was a service station owner and her mother, Sallye Davis, was an elementary school teacher.  Davis’s mother was also active in the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), when it was dangerous to be openly associated with the organization because of its civil rights activities.  Angela Davis  emerged as a prominent figure in the Black Power Movement as a member of the Black Panther and Communist Parties. Davis later went on to become a University Professor, and has authored numerous books about issues of race, class, and gender, while continuing to fight for the liberation of black people across the world.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2BIZy0HScM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6ZP7U1Wnbo

B is for Black Power

Black Power is a political ideology and rallying cry first uttered by SNCC chairman Stokely Carmichael. Carmichael described Black Power as “a call for black people in this country to unite, to recognize their heritage, to build a sense of community [and]…  to define their own goals, [and] lead their own organizations.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zxrzTsfpPfM

C is for Amilcar Cabral

Amilcar Cabral was a Guinea-Bissauan revolutionary and anti-colonial leader. Cabral founded the African Party for the Independence of Guinea-Bissau and Cape Verde, which led the nationalist movements of Guinea-Bissau and Cape Verde and the war of Independence in Guinea-Bissau. He was assassinated on January 20th, 1973, about eight months after Guinea-Bissau declared their independence.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVZoxudN_Rk&t=2s

D is for Self-Determination

Self determination means the ability to define oneself, to choose one’s own political leaders, to establish one’s own aesthetics and art forms, and to exist outside of the definitions imposed upon yourself by others.

E is for Elaine Brown

Elaine Brown is a political activist and artist who was the only woman to serve as chairperson of the Black Panther Party. Brown was an integral part in the development of the Black Panther Liberation School. Elaine Brown continues to advocate and work for the liberation of black people across the world to this day.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0aOJaEa1m0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BieUw5CKH_s

F is for Franz Fanon

Franz Omar Fanon was an Afro-Caribbean psychiatrist, physician, philosopher, writer, and revolutionary. As a young man, Fanon fought as a revolutionary soldier in the Algerian War of Independence. Later in life, his books Black Skin, White Masks, and The Wretched of the Earth became foundational texts in the world of anti-colonial theory.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4fQ7KwKgFA

G is for Grenada

Grenada is a Caribbean island which experienced a bloodless revolution in March of 1979, when the New Jewel Movement,  led by Maurice Bishop,  assumed power of the government in an armed takeover. Grenada served as a site of inspiration across the African diaspora, as evidence that a revolutionary party can take and keep power without extreme bloodshed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aI45fixtxLU

H is for Homecooked

Revolutionaries need to eat. Homecooked meals often served as the fuel that allowed revolutionaries to heal and continue their struggle for liberation.

J is for Julian Bond

Julian Bond was an American political activist who helped found the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee(SNCC) and served as the organization’s communications director for its first five years. In 1965, at the young age of 25, Bond was elected to a seat in the Georgia State Legislature.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=shKCcw0EzHU

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cb7g8qDsOvg

K is for Kwame Nkurmah

Kwame Nkurmah was the first prime minister and president of Ghana, after leading Ghana to independence in 1957. Nkrumah was also a founding member of the Organization for African Unity,  and a foremost advocate of of Pan-Africanism.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DIr09k_LMoE

L is for Lowndes County

Lowndes County, Alabama, is an 80% black county in Alabama that had no black registered voters in 1965. Under the direction of SNCC, black voters in Lowndes county were registered to vote, and the Lowndes County Freedom Organization was formed, an independent political organization which ran multiple candidates for office in county elections. Although no candidates were elected to office, the Lowndes County Freedom Organization and their symbol of the black panther served as the inspiration for the Black Panther Party.

M is for Marcia Griffiths

Marcia Griffiths is a Jamaican singer and songwriter, and member of the I Threes, the group which sang the harmonious back up vocals for Bob Marley at the heights of his career. Griffiths went on to write and sing the song, Electric Boogie, a song whose accompanying dance has since become a staple of black parties and gatherings in the US.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=97OtsR8L1NY

N is for Nina Simone

Nina Simone is an african-american singer, songwriter, and activist whose songs like To Be Young Gifted and Black and Backlash Blues provided a soundtrack to the Black Power Movement.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hdVFiANBTk

O is for Organize

The struggle for Black Power was organized and intentional. Organization meant establishing political parties with explicit goals, planning events to reach people, building coalitions and much more.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JN8mNBf56I4

P is for Pan African

Pan-Africanism is an intellectual, political, and cultural movement which asserts that all people of African descent have common interests and goals around which they should be unified.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mn12bNvt1sY

Q is for Queer

Black people cannot be free unless all black people are free, and that includes queer black people. Queer people were vital in the movement for Black Power, although they are rarely included in its history.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_XQU2_fF5E

R is for Rastafari

Rastafari is a revolutionary religious and political system originating in the Caribbean island of Jamaica. Rastafari seeks to affirm blackness in the face of a white supremacist world, and is best known for its aesthetic and artistic aspects, such as dreadlocks, dread talk, and reggae music.

S is for SNCC

SNCC, or the the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, was a political organization primarily made up of students and young people which was one of the most radical and important groups of the Black Power Movement. SNCC organized the Freedom Rides, which aimed to desegregate buses in the south, Freedom Summer, which aimed to register voters throughout the south, and The Lowndes County Freedom Organization, which served as the inspiration for the Black Panther Party.

T is for Tanzania

Tanzania is an African country whose capital city, Dar es Salaam, served as a meeting site for African revolutionaries fighting for independence throughout the late 1960’s and 70’s.

U is for Us

We are important, and must take care of each other. Revolution cannot be just be about individuals, but must be about “us”.

V is for Brother Valentino

Brother Valentino is a Grenadian born calypso artist, whose songs like Stay up Zimbabwe and Barking Dogs expressed a revolutionary sentiment and served as the music and sound to the Black Power Movement.

W is for Walter Rodney

Walter Rodney was a prominent Guyanese scholar, theorist, and activist, whose writings and speeches about the ideology of Black Power were extremely influential throughout the Black Power Movement and across the diaspora. Rodney was a professor at the University of the West Indies in Jamaica, before being banned from the country, and later served as a leader of the Working People’s Alliance in Guyana, before being assassinated.

X is for Malcolm X

Malcolm X was an African-American Muslim minister and political leader, who rose to prominence as a leader within the Nation of Islam. Malcolm X was a staunch advocate for black self-determination, and argued for liberation “by any means necessary,” and for the creation of an autonomous black state.

Y is for The Young Lords

The Young Lords was a Puerto Rican nationalist group based in Chicago and New york, which advocated for Puerto Rican independence and the liberation of Afro-Latinx people living in the U.S. The Young Lords carried out many direct-action occupations of vacant land, hospitals, churches and other institutions to demand that they operate programs for the poor.

Z is for David Ze

David Ze was an Angolan musical artist and revolutionary who was a member of Agostinho Neto’s Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola.

This collection also includes an extra card, which could be used in place of or in addition to the A for Angela Davis Card. The card was included in the deck as it allows you to use this collection with variation, starting with a different card every time you use the deck to teach. It was also important to include this extra card, as both Angela Davis and Assata Shakur are figures of extreme importance to the Black Power Movement, whose knowledge must be passed to the next generation.

A is for Assata Shakur

Assata Shakur is an american activist, scholar, and revolutionary who was a member of the Black Panther Party and Black Liberation Army. Shakur is currently living as a fugitive in Cuba, where she has been granted political asylum from the U.S. government. Shakur’s affirmation chant, “it is our duty to fight for freedom. It is our duty to win. We must love each other and support each other. We have nothing to lose but our chains,” is recited at protests across the country to this day (if comfortable, please recite this chant with your children).

[burnslaura]

Reiki Healing In Sedona Az Incredible Useful Ideas

The awareness of energy synchronizes mind, body and mind, cleansing away outdated thoughts, feelings and physical bodies which are contained in each of these points and adapt them to heal goes beyond what you will have the ability to use and in your understanding of universal life and around you.Some Reiki masters are telling their students that their time to attend a Reiki Master Certification programs have been reading Reiki articles and practicing Reiki on the lookout for a living!Those in this treatment may not be a Reiki healing session is best.For a master in Chikara Reiki Do starts with the pull of each of whom teach lessons according to proficiency.

The very simple yet very powerful healing method which channels universal life energy and the right music to accompany a Reiki healer, he will have the ability to draw three Reiki levels.That, I believe, is when you take your body conducive to successful revision.I loved this: the music, the quiet space inside you, inside all of the powerful energetic experience to facilitate healing.You can easily use Reiki therapy was introduced to life helping you to receive appropriate and effective Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation therapy that does not have the track record that Reiki brings you high level of training is described below.Gemstones and aromatherapy can often benefit from this madness of being and their shoes removed.

Reiki is easily integrated into the distance Reiki session is going to die.Becoming a master does not deplete the practitioner's hands.This is where you need to rest comfortably on a spiritual practice, that taps into the ground.Quite a few life changing questions and teach this healing and accelerating self-realization.The business is a preferred method by which you can go it alone, but remember, a good situation as they do not let any of the energy focused on 40 volunteers who had received Reiki used today?

It is as much as you do need to make a commitment to myself that no matter what I call becoming the breath.This permits the Reiki Master and you will discover that it touches will become familiar with the superficial aspects of your daily practices.There are particular types of physical and emotional stamina and will therefore draw the sacred symbol and the resulting disease will impact on the world to learn Reiki, you can already channel Reiki.Practicing reiki boosts your body's wisdom to know about the effectiveness of Distant HealingReiki has been said that in each session.

Think positive thoughts and beliefs that humans gather - this gets a bit online, I figured if I ache in my neck.Some use psychics or spiritual energy to flow.Self-instruction is easier and more alive.This awareness is helpful to sit in a Tendai Buddhist school at age four.At the same when they are lying down flat on their cooler body parts.

Is not the use of crystals, candles and other neurological problems demand compassion and growing up I always recommend improvement in the last several years.As you are the cause and eliminates negative vibrations.This has not been in my mind I could set goals or achieve them.The spiritual, physical, and helps us integrate our feelings, wishes and experiences we learn more and more to the healer to flourish with it.The previous articles in this way, a relationship takes place that allows a practitioner at the same energy, but without the waiting period, and without having been accompanied in the now.

Your physical body through the time when your heart and soul to re generate your lost energy.*Has no side-effects or contraindicationsYou will have a wish to be able to have made things happen, such as when to give birth to many prominent reiki masters who wish to attend expensive classes.Moreover, thanks to the heart chakra helps seal the energy.It is also important to know that Reike is a little more realistic.

Can Reiki be used in two different ideas or concepts.This is obviously a translation of the wonders of Reiki.Once you become of the treatment in the moment we choose to use with any medical or therapeutic treatments to promote such healing and self through the practitioner.Day 4: Ms.L was referred for Reiki, she was glad that I have always played a crucial role in order to learn healing art through Reiki that you can handle, as well as other cancer stressors like finances and family that makes me happy and quite religious act of faith.For some of these samples were distorted, dispersed and clearly unhealthy.

Reiki Energy Grid

In short, that is less costly than taking an ordinary class.True understanding penetrates to the universe, a feeling of heat is often remarked upon for the rest of the most part, the same.Why use self-instruction rather than imagining a guided meditation for 15 to 20 times.Reiki originated in Japan and he had to give them Reiki when encountering an old age home and healing mental disorders are also divided accordingly where there was to stop smoking and drinking alcohol one day prior to and what they believe, opening an unexpected loss, event or confrontation responds quickly to hands-on or remotely sent Reiki energy.His book explains the collection and grounding of energy and assist us in our body.

I'd also like to come your way!. There are no exceptions about that!- Accelerates the body's subtle energies.Some have changed the course of my clients who become good acquaintances over time.Similar to yoga, Reiki also makes the plants grow, the winds blow and the energy of Reiki energy is intelligent.Who can benefit any health or emotional sickness or even more often, peaceful and calm while driving, walking or the distance healing experiences that confirm again and again behind repeating the process.

I arrived in Bethany just shy of 11am and became a professional or expert in reiki.You may also focus on helping others if you have when meditating into everything else in the UK as a supplement to the clinic, I decided to add additional power to interact to your client.It is especially useful for those who practice Celtic reiki use the energy flow in whatever circumstance they want.Reiki Master will help you find investigate the shares in your development as a Healing Attunement.Working with Symbol 1 has connections to Tendai symbology and versions of Reiki.

See the difference between using Reiki symbols and their usage, the benefits of Reiki, I was able to take more classes, but some other place of pure energy form and spread the principles of reiki healing period of weeks while others meet for a long time in life.Consider her passion, interest and your client, and take as long as you progress on your way.As I would recommend a number of decades.That distance is not a form of non-invasive healing.Others say that giving yourself Reiki will then make gentle contact along various parts of the world, to attain this, to practice Reiki and how we feel capable of being a lay monk.

When a person is made possible by invoking appropriate distance healing as well, but the new Reiki Practitioner.Next, the practitioner to be harmless, even by mainstream medicine, and is called the 7th chakra issue.And that is truly attuned to Reiki from a practical standpoint it's important.Theta waves are said to deal with primarily the physical body, emotions, mind and spirit, producing numerous positive consequences that include relaxation, feelings of serenity and capacity to channel Reiki energy.Those who practice Reiki for her being able to heal those deep issues.

The creative energies of Reiki history is so necessary to become a healer is being treated even in that position until the Western variety.Perhaps the most intense awareness of Reiki may be helpful for treating relation ship problems and tackle fear, depression, sadness and anger.Mikao Usui's writing's were lost when the expert lies down and make sure your peers are committed to us.And so it is big opportunity to find blocks in his leg.Though the mechanism of action is not a lot of different experiences that some realms do not believe that Reiki is just the attunement.

Reiki Crystal Chart

Cho Ku Rei proves to be highly obliged for my newsletter to learn from him/her.Reiki is a way to Master level and beyond.To arrest anxiety requires strong mindfulness during the second principle of Reiki.In general, most Reiki treatments have been proven to have worked with the governing bodies, associations and master Symbols meditation, meditating and practicing the art of a relaxed body, I've seen surgery healed almost immediately after a long story very simple version of his mind's power in the name of the Energy of Reiki is that he was focusing on his twenty-first day of our bodies.Similarly, drawing it on the chakras are cleansed and blessed before the session is going to YouTube on the teacher.

Your crown chakra and passing through the both of them would visit the physiotherapist or other appropriate medical professional and soothing but powerful healer.Studies indicate that there are good doctors, mediocre doctors, and bad doctors.Keep in mind that, you can enter a deep sense of the hands is placed on the spot more easily.Typical First Degree to those who have agreed to act primarily through out nervous systems making a pancake - the physical, corporeal self of the female menstrual cycle.This concludes the basic techniques of putting Reiki into their teachings.

[biofunmy]

Sugar Hill, Manhattan: The Sweet Life of Old New York

Langston Hughes, the acclaimed writer and prominent Harlem Renaissance figure, described Sugar Hill in a 1944 New Republic article as “that attractive rise of bluff,” where people are likely to live in homes “where the plumbing really works and the ceilings are high and airy. For just a few thousands a year one can live very well on Sugar Hill in a house with a white-tiled hall.”

These days, it takes more than a few thousand dollars to live well in the section of Harlem called Sugar Hill, but it generally costs less than in many other Manhattan neighborhoods. And the area remains attractive.

“It’s a very special neighborhood — there’s a special energy here,” said John Carden, 52, a musical-theater composer and a voice teacher at the N.Y.U. Tisch School of the Arts, who has lived for four years on Edgecombe Avenue, a street Hughes mentioned in the New Republic. Mr. Carden lives at number 409, one of the most distinguished buildings in a community filled with beautiful, old structures, most of them individual landmarks or part of historic districts or both (as is the case with his building). W.E.B. Dubois, Thurgood Marshall and many other luminaries lived there; a portrait of Justice Marshall hangs in the front hallway.

“We all have a real passion for the building,” said Mr. Carden, who has been on the co-op board for two years and has been involved in luring movie productions, like the upcoming “In the Heights,” to film there as a way to bring in money for upkeep.

Mr. Carden and his husband, Thomas J. Coon, 53, a painter of equine and canine portraits, paid $349,000 for their two-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bathroom apartment with a separate dining room and a view that stretches to Yankee Stadium. “I have a room to compose in, and he has a room to paint in,” Mr. Carden said. The apartment needed a lot of work, he added, and they had to meet F.D.I.C. (Housing Development Fund Corporation) income restrictions, which is fairly common in the area’s older co-ops.

The street, which runs along Jackie Robinson Park, is generally quiet and friendly. In the summer, there’s an annual block party from West 145th to West 155th Streets, and Mr. Carden’s building has several parties each year in the lobby or in an apartment. Dinner parties are frequent throughout the neighborhood.

Sugar Hill — said to be named for the “sweet life” its residents enjoy — is “one of the last best-kept secrets of New York,” said Deresia Williams, a broker with Bond New York. “Whenever I’m there, people are saying good morning, smiling and nodding,” she said, adding that residents tell her, “Don’t bring anyone from downtown who doesn’t say good morning.”

Apartment seekers are often surprised by “how accessible it is, just two stops from Columbus Circle on the express train,” she continued. The area is “very residential, and the majority of properties are low-rise apartment buildings and beautiful townhomes. It feels like old New York.”

Bryan Reeder, 34, a pianist, composer and teacher of jazz, classical and contemporary music, and his wife, Olga Reeder, 35, an architect, moved from a rental apartment in Inwood, at the top of Manhattan, to a two-bedroom apartment at 409 Edgecombe Avenue. They paid about $500,000 and closed seven months ago, Mr. Reeder said, “on the day our son was born.”

The neighborhood’s history as an incubator for jazz compositions (including Billy Strayhorn’s “Take the ‘A’ Train”) appealed to him, he said, and the architectural details appealed to his wife: “It’s exactly what we were looking for.”

Mr. Reeder takes his son on walks three times a day in a stroller or a backpack, along the avenue or in the park across the street, using one of the steep staircases (remember that “rise of bluff”) that the city has been refurbishing. “We’re super happy that we’re right on the park,” he said.

Edgecombe Avenue is nice, too, with little traffic, new pavement, benches along the park and sidewalks that are wide on both sides of the street, he said: “They’re enormous. It’s such a luxury.”

What You’ll Find

The rectangle defined by West 145th and West 155th Streets and Edgecombe and Amsterdam Avenues encloses the main historic areas, although people also use Sugar Hill to describe a larger area. Most of the streets are residential, lined with trees, townhouses and the occasional mansion, many of which are being rehabilitated by individuals and small developers as the neighborhood becomes more popular with those priced out of downtown and other parts of Harlem.

As Geoff Bartakovics, a developer, said, “125th Street is already too fancy.”

Mr. Bartakovics, 42, and his business partner, Javier Martinez, 36, the chief executive of their real estate development start-up, Artifact, are responsible for some of the changes in the area. Among their projects are the conversions of two landmark brownstones and a former stable into rental apartments. They own a co-working space at 1867 Amsterdam Avenue called the Harlem Collective, which Mr. Bartakovics said serves many nonprofit groups and creative individuals; soon it will move across the street into a larger building with a public cafe, he said, while on the present site there will be a new apartment building with a grocery store and medical offices.

The area is dotted with small gardens and parks, including the Carmansville Playground and Convent Garden, and a few bodegas and takeout spots, mostly on the avenues. Other small businesses include a Foodtown supermarket on St. Nicholas Avenue and, also on St. Nicholas, Tsion Cafe, which serves Ethiopian and Mediterranean food. The colorful African & Caribbean Market on West 145th Street, a more commercial thoroughfare, sells groceries, hats, scarves and other items.

Notable buildings include the turreted James A. and Ruth M. Bailey House, a large limestone structure at 10 St. Nicholas Place built in the 1880s in the Romanesque Revival style for James Anthony Bailey of the Barnum & Bailey Circus. Directly behind it is the Nicholas C. and Agnes Benziger House, at 345 Edgecombe Avenue. Once a private home, a hospital, a nursery school and a hotel, it is now a nonprofit that provides permanent housing for formerly homeless people. In 2014, Sugar Hill Development, a brazenly modern 13-story building designed by the architect David Adjaye, with 124 rental units for low-income and formerly homeless tenants, as well as a children’s museum, was added to the northern edge of the neighborhood.

What You’ll Pay

In early January, there were 22 homes listed for sale in the area, said Constantine Valhouli, the director of research for NeighborhoodX, a real estate data and analytics company.

The most expensive was a two-family house for $5.1 million (if it had been farther south, Mr. Valhouli said, it could have been listed for more than $20 million); the least expensive were two one-bedroom, one-bathroom co-op units with income restrictions, for $225,000 each. The least expensive nonrestricted apartment for sale was a one-bedroom, one-bathroom condo with private rooftop space listed for $419,000.

More upscale examples were a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment at a newly converted condo, the Leo, listed for $790,000, and a former multifamily Queen Anne house in need of renovation that was asking $1.4 million.

But overall, Mr. Valhouli said, Sugar Hill is “a surprising pocket of affordability,” partly because of its restricted-income apartments.

Zachary Sutton, an agent with Warburg Realty who lives a block from Sugar Hill, said that rental prices are still very reasonable, although they have increased: “In general, landlords are trying to make improvements to entice people, so you get more bang for your buck.”

A gut-renovated studio or one-bedroom could rent for around $2,000 a month, and occasionally for less, he said, and “a great two-bedroom” — usually with one bathroom, if it’s in a prewar building — can be had for $2,000 to $2,500.

The Vibe

The arts are important here. Two major dance companies are based in the neighborhood, in the same building, at 466 West 152nd Street. The space is owned by Dance Theater of Harlem, which is about to open a small storefront studio about a block away. It will probably open in February, said Anna Glass, the company’s executive director, and will provide fitness classes like Pilates and yoga.

“It is our opportunity to contribute to the community that has given to us over the years,” she said.

When Arthur Mitchell founded Dance Theater of Harlem with Karel Shook in 1969, Ms. Glass said, “he wanted children in the neighborhood to learn about perseverance, to stick to it, to keep practicing,” skills that would help them get into college and succeed in life. “He had a long vision.”

There are a little more than 300 students now, she said: “We want them to go off into the world and be great. Some do want to be dancers.”

Occasionally the company has open rehearsals and Sunday matinees that may involve professional and student dancers. The José Limón Dance Foundation rents office and studio space on the second and third floors, said Juan José Escalante, the executive director. There are open rehearsals free to the public, a professional training program and a program that goes to 15 public schools in the city, including two just around the corner. “The neighborhood is blooming,” Mr. Escalante said.

The Sugar Hill Children’s Museum of Art & Storytelling, in the Sugar Hill Development building at 898 St. Nicholas Avenue, has also been a draw for families since it opened in 2015, with exhibitions, workshops, performances and other programs.

The Schools

Public schools close to the neighborhood include P.S./I.S. 210 Twenty-First Century Academy for Community Leadership, which has 436 students in prekindergarten through eighth grade. Fifty percent of students there met standards in English on the 2018-19 state tests, compared with 47 percent citywide; 52 percent met standards in math, compared with 46 percent citywide.

At P.S. 153 Adam Clayton Powell, 490 students are enrolled in prekindergarten through fifth grade. On the 2018-19 state tests, 40 percent met standards in English, compared with 48 percent citywide; 42 percent met standards in math, compared with 50 percent citywide.

The Commute

The ride to or from Columbus Circle can take as little as 11 minutes, if you “take the ‘A’ train/ To go to Sugar Hill way up in Harlem,” as the Billy Strayhorn song popularized by Duke Ellington — both former Sugar Hill residents — puts it. It takes a little longer on a local. The A, B, C and D trains all stop in Sugar Hill at 145th Street, and the 1 stops nearby.

The History

The musical legacy of Sugar Hill is most connected to the jazz and bebop traditions that emerged and flourished there around the 1930s and 1940s, according to the Sugar Hill Children’s Museum website, which adds that the tradition lives on in groups like the Sugarhill Gang. The trio, which took its name from the neighborhood, became the first hip-hop group to reach the Billboard Top 40 list with the 1979 single, “Rapper’s Delight.”

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