#this does not include pieces NAMED untitled

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

hey everyone!!!!

your diligent mods here at the art that fucks you up tournament have been trying to track down all the artworks you’ve submitted, and some have been..... tough. so if you could please keep in mind that if you don’t know the artist or title, then that makes OUR job significantly harder, and makes it more likely your submission won’t end up in the final!

[hamsterclaw]

Fic Library: Namjoon

A list of incredible fics I've read and re-blogged on my (almost) 2 years on here. These stories all celebrate our fave big, brainy, clumsy, sometimes annoying, always sexy Joon, check them out and give these authors some love!

The Body Through Time by @yeoldontknow. KNJ x f! reader, sexy academia AU. Angsty fic with Namjoon as a smouldering brainiac.

Goodnight Nabi by @sahmfanficbts. Get used to seeing Sam's handle in my lists because she's one of my fave writers and a lovely person to boot. KNJ x f! reader, sexy DILF mechanic Namjoon. A sexy, beautiful fic with Sam's signature hope and heart.

Pronoia by @junghelioseok. KNJ x reader, college + zombie apocalypse AU. A cracky, funny, zingy story with guest appearances from other members - including JK and Yoongi.

Booty Jorts by @miscelunaaa, who also has a good showing in my fic recs for her top notch writing and just being a great human. KNJ x f! reader - this is a smuttily delicious gem.

Shell-ter by @miscelunaaa. Hermit crab! Namjoon x marine biologist reader. I genuinely think about this grumpy (crabby?!) Namjoon all the time.

Scent of a woman by @sahmfanficbts. Leopard hybrid parfumerie boss! Namjoon x employee f! reader. There's always so much humanity in Sam's stories, and this does not disappoint.

How I love you by @ahundredtimesover. KNJ x f! reader. A 28k beautiful musing on love and marriage that's thought-provoking and sensitively written.

Seoul Redemption by @sahmfanficbts. Forger! KNJ x single mom! reader. A gorgeously realised imagining with a noir vibe and very human characters.

Park and Ride (Explicit) by @here2bbtstrash. KNJ x reader, idolverse. The first story I read by M, and it made me want to read so much more of her work. Sexy, fast-paced, and this Namjoon is swoonworthy.

Holding on letting go by @augustbutwinter. KNJ x gn! reader. August is queen of the short impactful drabble but her longer pieces are just as incredible. A sad, angsty, truthful, beautifully realised gem.

Cuffing Szn by @miscelunaaa. FBI agent KNJ x soft-bodied/plus-sized reader. Joon's an FBI agent, he's big and sexy, do you really need to know any more?

Reckless by @vyduan. Part of the Her multiverse. KNJ x reader, also featuring JJK x reader, idolverse. I started reading vyduan's writing when I first got into BTS fanfic, and apart from being a fucking fantastic writer, she's also an all-round good egg with a razor sharp wit. Reckless is hot and sexy and reader is gritty, strong and kickass. Namjoon is the arrogant pompous asshole of my dreams in this.

Fall apart & redefine by @ugh-yoongi. Idol KNJ x f! reader. Namjoon's music and musings give off sadboi vibes to me, and this gorgeous, angsty story captures all of that. Stunning.

On the line 1 by @augustbutwinter. KNJ x reader. I was only speaking the truth when I said August writes drabbles like no other. Short, cute and impactful.

Hey, it's me by @yoongiphoria. Exes Namjoon x reader. I remember reading this for the first time around the time Indigo came out and thinking how perfectly it captured the vibe of the album. I still love it now.

Untitled by @ahundredtimesover. An idolverse AU ft KNJ and f! reader. Musings on loss and impermanence and legacies also inspired by Indigo.

If this is all we can do by @yoongiphoria. A follow up to Hey, it's me, linked above, that made me stop skim reading and pay attention. Angsty, full of longing and just a great read.

The package thief by @blog-name-idk. KNJ x f! reader, enemies to lovers. I'm a fan of Mango's cracky humour, and it comes through in this judgy, petty and somehow also endearing Namjoon.

Shut up! by @daechwitatamic. KNJ x gn reader. I love it when a story alludes to Namjoon being annoying and I especially like how reader shuts him up. Smutty, sexy and so so good.

Envy by @whatifyoulivelikethat. KNJ x f! reader. Love this author's general DGAF vibes, and they've also written some of my favourite stories. Namjoon's gorgeously written and darkly sexy in this. So so hot.

The one with Namjoon and the u-haul by @eoieopda. KNJ x Jeon! reader. Jade's writing is sharply hilarious and this is a perfect example. A dreamy, sexy Namjoon and a lil shit JK.

Pheromones by @rmnamjoons. Spaceship captain Joon x spaceship botanist reader, sci-fi AU. The fic that introduced me to the concept of sex pollen and a sexy, sex-crazed yet somehow still chivalrous Namjoon.

Promise Me KNJ x f! reader, JJK x f! reader, military AU, by @sahmfanficbts. A beautifully written, tender love story that made me cry and reflect on my life. Sam writes emotions like no one else.

Additional notes: A few of my favourite Namjoon stories, are only on AO3, for which I've created a separate post.

[ani-antiquities]

The Melancholic Woman: Eva Hesse, Ennead (1965), and Trauma, De-strung

(source: ICA Boston)

I will open this essay with a line from art historian, Anne M. Wagner’s essay, Another Hesse, on her journal October, vol. 69 – wherein she writes of our subject, American sculptor Eva Hesse:

Hesse’s self-scrutiny, we learn once again, is a means of coping with “environment” – with the inheritance of the past. But it is also the measure – even the proud badge – of her “difference”, the difference, we remember, of being an artist. (p. 131)

Anne M. Wagner’s essay on Eva Hesse will be one of the main sources of this paper.

Here, we will be able to trace Eva Hesse’s art and its asymbolia to the artist’s melancholia and her journey of sublimation and working through. We will also thereby arrive at more questions to ponder Hesse’s life, and inquire about the connections among art, melancholia, and the semiotic – and possibly ponder a perspective that ties the end-goal of these Kristevan concepts together.

(Before I go on, I just wanna say that this essay may draw on similarities EVA HESSE: POST-MINIMALISM INTO SUBLIME, by Robert Pincus-Witten. I wrote this specific essay more than a year ago for my Cultural, Literary, and Critical Theory class, and I only found this essay just today, as I am writing and doing more research for this piece. LOL. However, I would like to justify that the content of my essay is to draw connections between Hesse’s art and Kristeva’s psychoanalytic theory. I did enjoy Witten’s essay, though!)

(Source: pbs.org)

Eva Hesse

At the height of Nazi Germany, Hesse’s family fled to America for protection from religious persecution, but it was not long until sanctuary proved to be fickle as well, in the land of the free. Due to trauma implicated by the Second World War that vehemently caused the deaths of Hesse’s extended family, the serious circumstances of (Eva Hesse’s mother) Ruth Marcus House’s bipolar disorder worsened. These events dominoed to Wilhelm Hesse’s divorce from Ruth Marcus, and Ruth’s suicide. Adding salt to the wound, Wilhelm would marry a woman named Eva. Upon the new marriage, the young girl and her step-mother would share the same name.

Identity crisis aggravated young Eva’s trauma – from the persecution of family whose faces she had never known, to losing her to suicidal mother at ten. It seemed like grief was her very being.

Graduating from Yale, she exhibited works whose style displayed that of Abstract Expressionism and paved the way for Minimalism.

Art historians speculate how these traumas were sublimated into her art. Her self-portraits showcase distorted images of faces and figures. They are almost like a child’s attempt at creating a figure painting, except that their tone is so somber that only an adult can express such a feeling.

(Untitled, 1965, oil on canvas: From: mutualart.com)

However, the most intriguing work of Hesse does not come from two-dimensions – but three. This includes Hesse’s sculpture, Ennead (1965).

(Ennead, 1965, oil on canvas. From: icaboston.org)

Eva Hesse’s Ennead (1965)

All that there is to the piece: acrylic, paper mache, some resin-coated strings, plywood, some plastic, and a title possibly referencing the Egyptian pantheon.

The Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston, describes the artwork as such:

The orderly, formulaic application of the threads devolves into an increasingly chaotic composition as they accumulate and tangle toward the floor. A few strands are affixed to the adjacent wall, cordoning off a wedge of space that becomes part of the sculpture itself. This gesture also draws the viewer’s attention to the corner of the gallery, activating this normally overlooked area. Additional material hangs to touch the floor, thus uniting three planes. “Ennead” means a group of nine, in this case referring to the nine points from which the strings extend.

How can we interpret art whose surface presence is devoid of any points from its meaning? Baroque art can be so interpreted by its gargantuan number of details that fit on a four-cornered canvas. Poetry can be dissected among its metaphors, language, and enjambments. How can we possibly describe a sculpture so bare of material and overly abstract in its form? Was it meant to be this way – stripped down and bare?

Asymbolia and Melancholia

Many of Hesse’s works portray a distinct use of asymbolia, and the stimulation of asymbolia to its audience.

It is impossible to speak of Ennead without speaking about Hesse – primarily because Hesse and her art are one. Hesse even says: “My life and art have not been separated. They have been together.”

Ennead is no exception – however, with absolutely little to no “initial and final'' interpretation of meaning when you see the sculpture. What can we then say about Eva Hesse through the piece? Even art historians themselves, up to this day, consider Ennead to be an enigma on its own – its minimalism minimizes itself, to the point of devoiding any meaning, making us doubt if there is any at all.

First, we must discuss the asymbolia in Ennead – the art itself. Though by instinct and intuition, the substance of Ennead is uninhabited on its own, I would like to shed a few pointers on the piece and its asymbolia through its deliberate absurdity.

The strings were meant to be orderly at first, until its tail-end, wherein Hesse describes them as a jungle. Hesse even took in the effort to dye the strings to possibly add more aesthetic depth to them. Hesse describes the process of this piece in one of her journals.

The further it went toward the ground, the more chaotic it got; the further you got from the structure, the more it varied. I've always opposed content to form or just form to form. (Quoted in L. R. Lippard, op. cit., p. 62)

However, even when Hesse describes her decision to irrationalize the hinds of the strings, the art still talks gravel to the path towards the most inane question: What does it mean?

So, we shall secondly address the audience’s confusion, that stems from the asymbolia of the audience themselves – the very inability to attach any familiarity or meaning to the symbols the art presents, because of the very fact that it lacks anything.

The only thing that makes sense of Hesse’s art is nonsense – the asymbolia found in Hesse’s art, that stems from dissecting, stripping down, and representing her trauma. Hesse states in one of her interviews: “There is no abstract art. You must always start with something… A painter paints to unload himself of feelings and vision.”

Must her own “something” be from her depression – from the trauma of losing her mother, identity, and other factors throughout?

We take the theory behind this inquiry from Julia Kristeva’s illustration of asymbolia and melancholia in her book, Black Sun – “The negation of that fundamental loss opens up the realm of signs for us, but the mourning is often incomplete. Melancholia then ends up in asymbolia, in loss of meaning…” (p.42).

Hence, to study the bare Ennead is to study Hesse’s bare melancholia.

We may never have the opportunity to bear witness to Hesse’s trauma, as only she and herself can live it, so we turn to her journals,

Throughout her life, Hesse seems to be on good terms with working through with her depression, as she sublimates it with her art – if it means going against the conventions imposed on her by four-cornered dimensions of papers and canvases, and the one-platform norm of past sculptures (Ennead takes up two adjacent walls, and thereby two dimensions).

Asymbolia and the neglect of the pre-conceived semiotic can be seen in her journals – which instead of letters and intelligible words, consist of drawings that penetrate any dividers and lines.

Kristeva furthermore explains this psychoanalytic mechanism as she illustrates the control of the preverbal in aesthetic creation: “When the struggle between imaginary creation (art, literature) and depression is carried out precisely on that frontier of the symbolic and the biological we see indeed that the narrative or the argument is ruled by primary processes” (p.65) – explaining the subnormality of Hesse’s art and entries, and how the manifestations of obscurity stem from the mere struggle of Hesse’s melancholia.

(Figure 3: Hesse’s journal. From: sugarcandymtn.com)

Other than these, her excerpts write of her own feelings of depression and anxiety: “I must write, my sanity is involved. I cry and cry, the pages are wet. I have no one, to go to and the edge of hysteria and insanity is not far apart” (October 19, 1964).

Anne M. Wagner writes: “Anyone who wants to make a serious contribution to remembering Hesse will likewise have to speak about a wound. For what is striking about Hesse’s art is its utter inwardness, with artistic languages of the day: her imagery and effects are not learned by rote, only to be parroted back more or less unchanged” (p. 159)

With this: Must her melancholia still be the root of her asymbolic art? Or was this art a testament to her ability to self-scrutinize all along? Furthermore, will there be anything to self-scrutinize when there is no trauma?

Conclusion: The Futile Point of Interpretation

Hesse intended her work to be autobiographical, but never understood – and thus reflecting the paradox of identity: to know, but never understand. Even her journals were not meant for the purpose of understanding: “Hesse’s journals and their users have meant that it is no longer possible for viewers “not to know the artist” – or at least, not to feel they know her, and to prepare themselves accordingly when looking at her art.”

Yet, even when we have read Hesse’s journals, watched documentaries, and studied countless journals from art historians – the impossibility to fully understand still looms over her audience. So then we ask the question: What should we feel to know of Hesse? The illness caused by both personal and socio-economic circumstances of her time? Must her works be cursed with the fallacy of perpetually being tied to her trauma.

On Dostoevsky, Kristeva writes: “Works of art thus lead us to establish relations with ourselves and others that are less destructive, more soothing.” Hesse’s artifacts are therefore not records of her mania, but documentations of her survival from it. Her illness, therefore, is not what should be reflected of her life – but her sisyphean triumph over it.

Maybe it is for the better – as the point of art itself is to sublimate the traumatic aggression of the artist, and (like a monster) to never let it out of the cage of the canvas. Kristeva can even attest to this, saying: “Art seems to point to a few devices that bypass complacency and, without simply turning mourning into mania, secure for the artist the connoisseur a sublimatory hold over the lost Thing” (p. 97)

Hesse did this concealment well, so much so that it is said the artist herself might not have realized this. As Wagner would write: “If Hesse’s life did enter her art, it did so by a process that Hesse herself was in a position to describe. We would be looking for ways (Hesse’s unconscious) repeatedly configured. I think such imagery exists in Hesse’s art, and I take it to concern the artist’s feelings toward her mother above all” (p. 165) So much so, that even daring to question the trauma behind Hesse’s art, we do not only turn a blind eye to the artist herself, but arrive at a futile destination when we do: “Yet, in asking them [questions on Hesse’s art] we risk losing sight of the workings of Hesse’s unconscious – a notion that, after all, was the motivating impulse of this discussion. But the artist and her unconscious are not far away.” (p. 173)

Conclusion

I will close with another one of Wagner’s concluding lines:

“To claim that Hesse’s art aims to remember and express a common human quality or experience is not the same as attributing to it some universal force or purpose. It gives its own account of that experience.” (p. 186)

This aim of art is reminiscent to how beauty sublimates melancholia in the form of art, much like giving its own account of an experience. Kristeva writes:

“Beauty emerges as the admirable face of loss, transforming it in order to make it live. Melancholia to the point of becoming interested in the life of signs, beauty may also grab hold of us to bear witness for someone who grandly discovered the royal way through which humanity transcends the grief of being apart.”

(p. 100)

Hesse’s journey as an artist is proof that asymbolia – another result of melancholia – paves the way into sublimation. Art is therefore not rooted in the melancholic, its her way of forging a path deeper underneath it. Art is agency from the trial of inner-disagency. Art is therefore the artist’s most individual and subjective struggle, not of her depression, but one of working through. Precisely through this art, we unlock the beauty sculpted from the marble of melancholia. Hesse and Ennead are just among the myriad of melancholic beauty in the realm of art.

SOURCES

Kristeva Julia. Black Sun : Depression and Melancholia. Columbia University Press 1989. https://archive.org/details/blacksun00juli. Accessed 27 Feb. 2023.

Artincontext. “Eva Hesse - The Brief Life and Incredible Works of Eva Hesse the Artist.” Artincontext.org, 4 Apr. 2022, https://artincontext.org/eva-hesse/.

Branaman, Bianca. “Love - Eva Hesse.” Sugar Candy Mountain, Sugar Candy Mountain, 4 Sept. 2018, https://sugarcandymtn.com/blogs/the-brand/love-eva-hesse.

“Ennead.” EVA HESSE, https://www.christies.com/en/lot/lot-315751.

“Ennead.” Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston, https://www.icaboston.org/art/eva-hesse/ennead.

Evemy, Benjamin Blake, et al. “Auctions, Exhibitions & Analysis for +500K Artists.” MutualArt, MutualArt, 17 Feb. 2023, https://www.mutualart.com/.

“The Sickness of Being Disallowed: Premonition and Insight in the 'Artist's Sketchbook'.” O A R, https://www.oarplatform.com/sickness-disallowed-premonition-insight-artists-sketchbook/.

[themadmorrigan]

Hookay so - I was tagged not one, not two, but three times by excellent writers for this meme: so thanks to @zenkindoflove, @olenvasynyt, and @sonics-atelier for thinking of me. :)

Because I'm relatively new both to AO3 AND the ACOTAR fandom, I'm including other fandoms and some sneak previews otherwise my numbers look sad lmao.

-----

First line tag game

Rules are: post the first line(s) from the last 10 fics you've updated or posted (or however many fics you have, if less than 10).

Of Swords and Sorrows - ACOTAR, Nesta x Tamlin, Elain x Lucien, Feyre x being a feral little goblin (for now), 9/?? chapters, ~51k words

Wherever Feyre was, it was dark—oppressively so. The kind of suffocating dark that crept into her lungs and pressed on her chest, that sent tendrils of shadow reaching outwards to drag her deeper into the abyss and drown her in its lightless depths. For a moment, she was terrified. With her eyes rendered useless, however, she found her other senses sharpened in compensation.

Sic Semper Tyrannis - ACOTAR, Elain x Lucien, 1/10 Chapters, 6517 words

Elain’s day begins as it always does: with an affirmation. Rain or shine, she blinks into the dim morning light of her bedroom and tells herself, You’re happy. It’s the prelude of a well-rehearsed daily dance, the steps of which she can perform in her sleep - for Elain is a creature of habit, and there is comfort in repetition.

Sympathy for the Devil - ACOTAR, Beron Vanserra, one-shot, 432 words (for now; I plan to expand this into a whole-ass thing)

It's strange to picture Beron Vanserra as a boy, looking around at the ancient wood monolith called The Forest House with wonder and running through the woods chasing after foxes, picking acorns and snacking on wild blackberries that stain his small, pale hands purple.

Untitled Talis!fic - ACOTAR, Tamlin x Alis, one shot but unpublished yet, ~1000 words

With Feyre, love had always been grand gestures: an art room, a pool of starlight, a dazzling proposal. Their relationship had been similarly tempestuous - Cauldron, it had begun with a kidnapping, and only really gone down from there. With Alis? It had started with a knock and a doughnut.

Pride Before the Fall - D&D/Forgotten Realms - Original Character, one shot, 1958 words

The Vizier was a complicated man, as wizards tended to be: he was arrogant and frequently petulant, opportunistic and loyal only until it suited him otherwise.  Scattered among those negative traits, though, were a handful of virtues. The Vizier was efficient and deplored waste, for one. He had a penchant for quick thinking and flexibility in dire situations. And probably most importantly, he was an excellent planner. 

The Backup Plan - D&D/Forgotten Realms - Original characters, longer companion piece to Pride Before the Fall but unpublished still, 4340 words (so far)

While his party slept beneath the figs and reeds of the oasis below, Lone Wolf sat sentry at the top of a nearby stone tower, keeping his eyes trained on the horizon. Not that the Pride of Waterdeep needed a watchman that night, with how isolated they were, not to mention all of the wardings Lorraine had put up on her Magnificent Mansion a few hours before. Lone Wolf had volunteered anyway, though… cliche as it was, he lived up to his name and preferred his own company to others.

What's In a Name? - ACOTAR, Lady of Autumn/Helion Spellcleaver, Lady of Autumn/Beron Vanserra, one-shot but unpublished yet, 866 words (so far)

Dearest Helion, I hope this letter finds you well My darling Helion, By the time you read this To the light of my life and the promise of my future Pomona sighed at the growing pile of discarded drafts at her feet.

City of Gold - D&D/Forgotten Realms/Baldur's Gate II - Anomen Delryn/Original Character, 6/30 Chapters, published ages ago on that OTHER fanfic website

Upstairs, in a silent room of the stone temple of Quotal, a pair of weathered, bejeweled hands reached into a glass jar and extracted a handful of dried yellow petals. Despite their age and wear, these hands were particularly fine and strong: calloused but well-shaped, they belonged to a man of high birth who wasn’t afraid of labor.

Two Sides of the Same Coin - D&D/Forgotten Realms/Baldur's Gate II - Imoen/Khalid, 6/?? Chapters, ALSO published ages ago on that OTHER fanfic website

"Hey. Imoen. Ims, wake up. We've got to get out of here…" A familiar voice brought the redhead back to the edges of consciousness. She opened her eyes cautiously and found herself sprawled on a metal floor in an immaculately clean cage. The room was dim, but she could make out most of what was around. Steel bars… flagstone walls around, with flickering lights above... And outside, peering in through the bars and fiddling with something, was Eli. Right... She was Imoen. Imoen Winthrop, the innkeeper's daughter.

There are more but those go back to when I was in college and NO one needs to read that, lmao.

Tagging, uh...

@kateprincessofbluewhales, @sadlybluespirited , @limeandorange

[alwaysbethewest]

2024 fave things I've made

My sweet friend @walkingaline tagged me in this end-of-year activity from @jolapeno asking people to name their three favorite things they'd made in the year.

The writing well has been d r y this year for me so I wasn't sure what I'd even have to choose from. But looking back on my blog what I discovered is... almost every piece I wrote this year was a gift for someone. And it's easy for me to pick those as my favorites.

Starter Home (Javi/Connie/Steve) for @by-ilmater. I don't think this is like, an example of my best writing or anything. But it certainly is very me, taking my favorite dolls and smushing them together into domestic intimacy over the course of several run-on sentences. And as I said in the note at the top of that fic, I came to the realization that maybe it's better to share an imperfect fic if there's something in it that might make someone smile, rather than keep it private indefinitely while you continue to tinker with it. I have perfectionist tendencies so that is a tough lesson for me.

Untitled (him/you, or "choose your own hunk" as I wrote in the tags) for @mourningbirds1. Clare bought a house this year and I'm incredibly proud of her for achieving that dream and for surviving some really hard challenges the last few years. It was such a pleasure to put together that moodboard and fic, thinking of her and the things she would like in it.

Crossing the Streams (Frankie ghost AU x Javi X-Files AU) for @fleetwoodmactshirt, obviously, because this is a fic that could never be for anyone else. I mean. I'm more than happy for other people to read it and enjoy it. I would love for you to read it!! But I don't think anyone else will Get It the way fleetwood does, since the way I wrote this fic was to basically mind-meld with her for the last four years and then spit out a portion of the results onto the page. To us it just makes sense that her X-Files AU Javier Peña is my ghost AU Frankie's uncle and that he and his partner would come by to investigate. Like? It's obvious? But also I've gotten really in my head about that ghost fic and didn't feel comfortable committing to that wackiness as canon~ for it so I'm technically considering this fic an AU offshoot in itself, lol.

I've had a hard time feeling connected to fandom this year. I still have some old WIPs I'd like to finish—I haven't written anything off even if it's years old at this point. I also made this post while I was supposed to be working on my current project (for the pedrostories secret santa exchange), which is a fun one but has been tricky just because I feel so rusty. One of my goals for the new year is to do more writing practice. To keep my fingers and brain a little more nimble even if the words are nonsense and will never see the light of day. Whether that translates to more fic… who can say 🤷‍♀️

This year I also made: eight birthday cakes, including the last one ever for a woman who later died*; several batches of cookies; dozens of curries; three or four loaves of focaccia; a handful of soups; probably seven or eight different preparations of tofu; and one batch of perfect cottage cheese pancakes. Next year I’ll try to develop my food photography skills and maybe I can share some of it with you.

*no connection to the cake, to be clear lol. Just noting it because I felt glad that I was able to make a special treat for her in her final year.

[xunandran]

WIP Wednesday - Eddie Diaz and "Buck"

Hello all! Just wanted to bring a bit of my new project, a sci-fi style AU (currently untitled) akin to Detroit Become Human (which I've never played but should). It's still in the works, but I like the idea so far and I'm excited to flesh it out and wanted to share.

Premise

In the near future, androids have integrated society and serve to assist with numerous tasks including Military applications, Search and Rescue applications, and basic household functions, such as meal prep, childcare, etc.

When exhausted former Army Machinist and current Los Angeles Firefighter and single father Eddie Diaz finds himself the recipient of a new prototype Executive Valet Android (E.V.An) codenamed "Buck", he's initially wary at having such a sophisticated piece of technology having access to his daily life.

But Buck does make his life easier, and soon he accepts the help. But having an android that is both so human and so alien can be jarring. Can Eddie keep the two separate, or will "Buck's" exceptionally realistic programming blur the lines between Owner/Friend/and perhaps even more…

Sample

“It looks so lifelike.” When Eddie entered the firehouse, bag slung over his shoulder, he noticed that the team was gathered near the foot of the stairs. Worried that he might have missed an important meeting, he jogged over to the collective mass.  “Like, you’re messing with me. This is an actor or a prank, right?’ Chimney poked along the ribs of a tall stranger who looked entirely unaffected by the action.  “Who’s this? New probie?” Eddie asked. He sized up the man in front of him. He was tall, taller than Eddie by at least a couple of inches, with dirty blond hair and the most affecting blue eyes Eddie had ever seen. The man’s features were casual and neutral, with a strong nose, pouty lips, and a small burn or other affect over his left eye. He couldn’t have been older than his mid-twenties. He looked almost too young to be a firefighter, if you ignored the fact that the man was built. Eddie traced the lines of the man’s chest and forearms with his eyes. The veins in his arms alone sent a tickle down Eddie’s spine, as did the tattoos. Eddie appreciated a well-formed build, male or female. It spoke to taking care of oneself. It spoke to strength, stamina, and dedication. It had been what had finally pulled the string in the net cast around him by his estranged wife. Her pregnancy had been what put a ring on his finger, but her ability to outpace him in nearly every activity was what had pulled him into her bed.  

And this? This was a form he could appreciate.  “Not a probie,” Hen said, looking up at the man. “An E.V.An.”  “A what?” Eddie pulled the slipping strap of his bag back over his shoulder and crossed his arms.  “It stands for Executive Valet Android. It’s a prototype from the applied robotics division at Karen’s lab.” She looked up at the tall blond in something akin to awe. “This one’s designated as ‘Buck’.”  At the sound of its name, the blond focused those piercing eyes on Hen. “Hello, Hen.” its voice was warm, not the artificial chirrup that Eddie associated with androids. Chimney was still poking about its ribs, and when it looked at him, he abruptly stopped. 

Eddie was curious. And skeptical. He padded around Buck, his keen eyes focused on every feature he could take in. Buck turned its gaze to follow him as he circled around the android. “No. I’m with Chimney. This is a stunt.” When the rest of the team turned to him, he shrugged. “I worked with automata in the field. Combat Mechanist, remember? The army had some of the most sophisticated units to ever be developed.” He looked at Buck. Its unwavering gaze focused on him as he spoke, its head cocked ever so slightly to the side. “This?” He gestured with his hand toward Buck. “This would be lightyears beyond anything that I’ve ever seen.”  “Welcome to the future then,” Hen said with a broad smile. When Eddie continued to appear unconvinced, she sighed and stepped in front of the tall blond. She rested her hand on Buck’s shoulder, fingers along the ridge and thumb pressed lightly against the pulse point of its neck. Buck’s demeanor never shifted at the intrusion into its personal space.  Eddie watched the display, the casual intimacy of the touch. The way the man appeared wholly unmoved. As far as performances went, he deserved an Oscar. After a beat, a quiet chime sounded. It appeared to emanate directly from Buck himself, but that was impossible. “Buck, diagnostic mode.” Chimney audibly gasped as tattoo on Buck’s arm, a concentric ring of lines and dots, animated and began rotating, pooling under the skin like some sort of LCD display. The man’s eyes faded from sky blue to a milky white, and if Eddie hadn’t physically seen the small panel underneath Buck’s arm unfasten, he would have likely believed the other man was having a stroke. Hen removed her fingers, and casually lifted the man’s arm, exposing a small touch screen embedded inside his skin. Servos and actuators and extremely complex wiring systems with diodes in every possible color blinked, hammered, and pulsed in the cavity behind the screen. In all his years, Eddie had never seen anything so surreal, so entirely foreign.

[randomvarious]

London Hip Hop Playlist

Something that Brits really seem to go absolutely fucking nuts over are breakbeats. They singlehandedly invented jungle and drum n bass with them, as well as the genres of breakbeat and breakbeat hardcore as well, and out of breakbeat also came big beat, which was that fun party stuff that was huge in the late 90s and early 2000s that was made popular by people like Fatboy Slim, the Chemical Brothers, and The Prodigy.

But another thing that Brits naturally applied breakbeats to was hip hop, which, after it had managed to make its way from New York, led to the formation of a UK-specific genre in the late 80s called Britcore. And Britcore featured people (almost strictly blokes) spitting furiously over slammin' breakbeats. Basically, if you love old school rap records like I do, you are *really* missing out if you never messed with any of this stuff at all, because while the US continuously led the way, the UK was cooking up some seriously overlooked unique fire on the back-burner that never really managed to make it into the American hip hop diet.

So, here's a bunch of dope rap tunes from London that span from the late 80s to mid-90s, a lot of which are Britcore tracks. And my #1 favorite among all of these is, hands-down, "Doomsday of Rap," by Hijack, which isn't just the greatest Britcore song that I've ever heard, but is also, to me, just one of the best pieces of old school hip hop that's ever been made, period. In fact, this tune, which lays ferociously raw lyrics over a sample of the Incredible Bongo Band's iconic "Apache," actually helped Hijack to catch the ear of none other than Ice-T, who then signed them to his own Rhyme Syndicate label. And "Doomsday of Rap" is probably one of the least obscure songs among this set here, but considering just how irresistibly good it is, a Spotify play count of around 75,200 still feels a bit low.

Another banger on here, though, which does have an obscenely low play count is Kobalt 60's "Kaos From Order," which seems to sample its breakbeat from Tom Jones' "Looking Out My Window," and also adds these forceful "ba-ba-ba-ba" male vocals in the second verse too. And I have no idea where those specific vocals come from, but they really enhance this whole track, overall, which is only sitting at a little under 1,900 total plays.

I also included a couple cuts from a slick-tongued ragga hip hop star originally from Jamaica named Daddy Freddy, too, who moved to London and then made some choice tracks, like "Go Freddy Go" and "Haul & Pull." The version of "Go Freddy Go" that I've added has about 16,700 plays, and a remix of "Haul & Pull" that was done by Bobby Konders has about 32,900.

This playlist is ordered as chronologically as possible.

Lady Sugar Sweet - "Sugar Sweet" Thrashpack - "Trigger Happy" Hijack - "Doomsday of Rap" MC Duke - "I'm Riffin" MC Duke - "Gotta Get Your Own" Hardnoise - "Untitled" SL Troopers - "Movement" Standing Ovation - "Onslaught" Daddy Freddy - "Go Freddy Go" The 3 Knights - "Burial Proceedings" Militant Posture - "Dawn of Terror" Brothers on Organised Missions - "B.O.O.M." Brothers on Organised Missions - "Delivering the Answer" Kobalt 60 - "Kaos From Order" Daddy Freddy - "Haul & Pull" Killa Instinct - "Un-United Kingdom"

And, of course, there's a YouTube version of this playlist too, which includes a couple more gems that aren't on Spotify, like a tune that's actually not Britcore, but takes a page out of Pete Rock's relaxational jazz-rap stylebook instead: 499's "Don't Categorise Me," which has around 11,600 plays across a bunch of different uploads on YouTube.

Demon Boyz - "Rougher Than an Animal" 499 - "Don't Categorise Me"

And this playlist is on YouTube Music as well.

So, with the unveiling of this playlist, we start with 68 minutes worth of tunes on Spotify, and 78 minutes over on YouTube. And because the YouTube version has that 499 track, I definitely recommend you check out that version rather than the Spotify one 😊.

Enjoy!

More to come, eventually. Stay tuned!

Like what you hear? Follow me on Spotify and YouTube for more cool playlists and uploads!

[flownwrong]

october music thingie

i'm doing dreamwidth blind so i decided to talk about music. let's do it. here's my october rotation.

i know nobody's clicking that link so you can read it here too:

Faves:

Halber Mensch by Einstürzende Neubauten: a beloved album that went out of my rotation for most of this year but made a perfect return once the late autumn stuff got going outside. Great for long commutes and short walks. The first time I really appreciated Yü-Gung on its own merit, too. When the bass hits on the last refrain of "fütter mein ego" it's physically enjoyable.

Gris Klein by Birds in Row: it came out roughly a year ago and immediately landed a spot on my all time faves list, but especially my late autumn fave list. Not only is it a solid hardcore/screamo record on its own, but this time they really outdid themselves. It's such a perfectly paced listening experience—by the time the closer hits you are vulnerable to it, and when it's done, you get that perfect hit of "wow, I don't even know what to put on after this". The instrumental game is on point, too—I have so many loops and riffs from it wedged between my braincells, so, sonically, it's a win. And of course the songwriting here is impressive af. "Noah" in particular is a straight up masterpiece. I've listened to it outside of this record so many times. Ten out of ten, would recommend.

[untitled] by mewithoutYou: I just kind of forgot about it, but thanks to shuffle, I went back to it. I'm a fan of their earlier releases so I didn't particularly remember this one. And it's really beautiful! I'd say it's more smooth and melodic than their usual fare, but the usual songwriting quirks are all there, signature melodic decisions and lyrics and all that. Loved it anew!

Terror's Horns by Natural Snow Buildings: For some reason, I only now, after a couple years with this record, noticed there's a track called "King in Yellow" on it, haha. I've re-read it very recently and entered another small loop of my horror reading spree—and I must say this record would actually be a good soundtrack. It's only subtly creepy, but it does feel rich and heavy and mysterious and has bursts of pure ecstatic beauty near the end there and one of the most devastating closers I know.

Slow Riot for New Zero Kanada by GY!BE: a classic; and, by extension, Górecki's third symphony, since the iconic "Moya" is a nod to that. I love many different recordings, but my all time fave is the one with Beth Gibbons of Portishead doing the vocals. Her unique voice and manner fill the already gorgeous parts with something fragile and sublime that is simply unparalleled. It's one of the best pieces of music I've ever heard.

Discoveries:

Jeff Buckley: I have no idea why I have been putting off checking him out for so long (I have an oddly patchy impression of popular music, in that I know a lot of obscure stuff but most of well-known names missed me completely), but man, the beauty here is really on another level. I was tickled to remember that a semi-obscure progressive metal band I like did a cover of "Dream Brother" a decade ago and that's how I first heard of him. Which is hilarious, because before I remembered, I commented on "Grace" to my friend saying it sounds like that very band if they weren't progressive metal. Also, no one who can pull off Dido's Lament will escape my admiration. Grace is going on that fave list for sure.

The great Destroyer by Low: I've been a fan for some years, but I tend to be slow in catching up with big discographies, so I missed some records, this one included. It's everything Low is beloved for, their quintessential reserved harmonies and precise lyricism all on display. Plus, the opener has been covered by Robert Plant, which is pretty cool.

Wind's Poem/Ocean Roar by Mount Eerie: I adore the quiet and devastating spoken word pieces Phil Elverum is known for (among other things), but these two black metal inspired albums, with those same quiet vocals and tentative lyrics contrasted by gloriously noisy instrumentals, are new for me and I'm in awe.

New stuff:

Silence by Rorcal: I'm only sometimes in the mood for Rorcal, but when I am, this record is a good example of why. Fun blackened hardcore, and the record is pretty tight and runs for less than 40 minutes.

Everything is Alive by Slowdive: I love this one! More than I loved their first post-reunion record. I think it was released back in September but it was a perfect melancholy autumn sound for my October.

Sit Down for Dinner by Blonde Redhead: a new Blonde Redhead record! Can you believe it? I think it got quieter than 23 and I love it less, but it's still a good record.

Oscillating Forest by Tangled Thoughts of Leaving: another September release by my ultimate underrated faves that get tagged as post-rock but actually do something more free jazz-ey and noisy and chaotic but also yes, with crescendos and keys and all that fun. Another absolute banger. Check it out.

At Zeenath Parallel Heavens by Black to Comm: my scariest ambient fave. It's not his absolutely full of dread Seven Horses for Seven Kings, but it's still delightfully uneasy and beautiful.

in spoar by piiptsjilling: there's this obscure Dutch sound designer/electroacoustic/ambient/neoclassical guy Machinefabriek with a massive back catalogue, and piiptsjilling is one of his even more obscure side-projects. It's more melodic and has actual words and not just vocal textures! I love it.

Not yet released, but Neubauten finished a new record and I'm HELLA excited. Nothing they've ever done is boring. Let spring come soon.

[pridepages]

Everyday Power: A Restless Truth

I just finished A Restless Truth by Freya Marske. I have thoughts...

Here there be spoilers!

Power comes in many forms. You don't need to be able to cast a spell. Just be lucky enough to be born in the right body.

Picking up right where A Marvellous Light left off, A Restless Truth is the second installment in Freya Marske's The Last Binding trilogy. This time, we're following Sir Robin Blyth's sister, Maud, on a mission to protect the keeper of the second piece of Britain's magical contract.

What begins with a grey parrot named Dorian (hold for laughter) becomes a murder and a high-stakes chase aboard an ocean liner. During the crossing, Maud meets an old friend--Jack Alston, Lord Hawthorn--and several new ones including semi-professional radical scoundrel Alan Ross and the scandalous heiress, Violet Debenham.

Like her brother, Maud isn't a magician. By circumstance, she's been introduced to this world or 'unbusheled.' She has voluntarily taken up this fight to save British magic from renegade magicians who have broken from the ranks to violate the laws of magic out of greed.

In the modern world, we're used to seeing people who volunteer to save a community that isn't their own as selfless...

But does anyone else sense some sharks in the water?

No? Let's try this on for size:

Of our merry band, Alan Ross is the lowest rank. He's untitled, poor, Italian, and makes his way by day as a journalist for gossip rags and by night as a jewel thief and purveyor of pornography. Finding him caught in their mess, Maud attempts to defend him from having his memory wiped--or worse--by the magicians present.

Ross is offended.

"I'm trying to help you, Mr. Ross," said Maud indignantly. "I didn't ask for your bloody help. In fact, you're inflicting it on me against my will. An insult to my human dignity, that."

And there is the crux of the novel: power comes from choices...

And who gets to make them.

Maud may never have starved, and may be able to 'afford morals,' as Ross puts it, but that doesn't mean she's free. Women in this era were even more constrained by patriarchy than they are today. Maud needs to recruit the help of Ross and Hawthorn because they can literally go places she can't. Even hosting their squad meetings in Hawthorn's suite is a risk--Violet and Maud quickly get a reputation for being loose women that he's entertaining!

But even beyond the niceties, Maud and Violet are desperate for the freedom to make choices for their lives. Violet fled her family home and took up a life onstage in quest of personal agency. Maud finds hers not by running away...but by running towards. She wants to be involved in something bigger than herself--in a cause of her choice.

But Maud is not a magician. So that does beg the question...

Does she have the right to choose this one?

As Hawthorn repeatedly points out, Maud isn't a magician in any sense. She didn't acquire the power to cradle and cast. She certainly wasn't born to it. So who is she, really, to take up this fight and tell people who do live under its bind what they should be doing?

The novel both does and doesn't provide an easy answer to this question. Over the course of the adventure, Maud discovers that she is a medium. This puts her at least tangential to the world of British magic. Should the reader be inclined, they can take this pass and neatly resolve the question.

But if you're like me...you won't be satisfied. You might be left struggling with this question of who has the right and the responsibility in this sort of scenario.

Did Maud act heroically? Or was she out of line?

At what point does selflessness turn back on itself and become selfishness?

Even if that question's impossible to answer, the crux of the conflict is easy to see:

Choice is power, and power is choice.

They are unequally, unfairly bestowed.

And if you're lucky enough to have them?

Use them wisely.

[millionthcephalophore]

Okay. A few things here. This is still bad! Buuuuut I would encourage people to read some full articles and get some context on Torres’ work to see exactly HOW these missteps could be justified and why they may have happened.

Portrait of Ross in LA is by farrrr Torres’ most famous candy portrait but it is not the only one! Plenty of them are frequently displayed in a line like the Smithsonian’s installation, is that less effective? Maybe. But it’s not out of line with his work. Nor is the plaques listing of an “ideal weight” or the exhibition’s listed concerns.

Gonzalez-Torres made a lot of work about AIDS and he made it exceptionally well. However, it was not his only artistic concern. This exhibition focuses on his innovations in portraiture and his lateral thinking about the genre. It would be absolutely disingenuous and sinister for the exhibit not to mention AIDS, but if I’m going to be a little honest I don’t have a problem with an exhibition placing its focus elsewhere. He was a brilliant artist and deserves recognition for all of his ideas, not just those related to his suffering.

The work is displayed and plaqued in a way that’s consistent with his other work and doesn’t go against the works’ certificate (basically it’s artist-stipulated display instructions). So from a curatorial standpoint it IS the same piece.

According to the curators a separate piece of wall text near the piece DOES further contextualize it reading, in part, “Gonzalez-Torres cared for his partner Ross Laycock, named in the candy work’s title, who died from HIV/AIDS in 1991. So there are some mentions of AIDS throughout the exhibit. I still think that this is not enough contextualization, but again, I see how it happened.

The display’s main problem is that its supremely fucking out of touch.

Portrait of Ross in LA means something to people, its more than just a portrait its a symbol, its a memorial, its grown past the artist and become something for an entire community that has frequently been robbed of the ability to openly mourn. I’ve gotten the privilege of seeing it in person a few times and it commands a reverence like nothing else I’ve ever seen. I keep the wrappers from my visit just to remind myself of that experience of twisting brilliant inadequate grief that it evoked in me. I keep the wrappers because it felt morally wrong to throw them away.

You have to treat Portrait of Ross in LA with fucking respect.

The conditions for respect have already been outlined, like several articles point out, we’ve already been here. The Art Institute did basically the same thing a few years ago and it was made clear by public outcry that caring for this piece and its significance means including a proper wall label. Its being respected by museum goers not already familiar with the piece is contingent on that wall label, people are less likely to read the other wall text.

SO. All in all I think that the curatorial decisions made here were pretty standard and I’d need to actually see the exhibit to make a ruling on their potential erasure of AIDS and Gonzalez-Torres’ sexuality within the exhibit as a whole. BUT the display also shows an ignorance of the work’s significance and a disregard for prior discourse/ meaning making surrounding it. It feels a bit like a slap in the face.

Anyways here’s another article with some more comments made by the curators if anyone wants more context:

https://www.artnews.com/art-news/news/felix-gonzalez-torres-national-portrait-gallery-untitled-portrait-of-ross-in-la-controversy-1234731113/

the david zwirner gallery and the felix gonzalez torres foundation in the smithsonian removed the descriptive plaque for portrait of ross in la by felix gonzalez-torres. the old plaque explained portrait for ross' origins as the artist's partner's aids related death, and replaced it with a plaque with absolutely no information about the piece itself, who ross was, or who gonzalez-torres was either. portrait of ross was also reeranged to lay on the floor long ways instead of in a pile as it typically is situated, and the plaque outside the exhibition FOR GONZALEZ-TORRES omits his sexuality, as well as his aids related death. i'm in utter disbelief

[noneofthisisreal]

Joseph Cornell was an American artist best remembered for his Surrealist assemblage works housed in shallow wooden boxes. Cornell produced works which incorporated found objects arranged in narrative dioramas, featuring Victorian-era dolls, photographs, bottles, and other small trinkets. These inventive tableaux are characterized by their dream-like imagery and interest in childhood memories, as evidenced in his piece Untitled (The Hotel Eden) (1945), which displays an image of a tropical parrot housed in a white wooden box. “Shadow boxes become poetic theater or settings wherein are metamorphosed the elements of a childhood pastime,” he once explained. Born on December 24, 1903 in Nyack, NY, he studied at a private school in Andover, MA, and became a practitioner of Christian Science in his early 20s. Though Cornell never received a formal education in art or attended college, he was well read and often went to galleries and museums in New York. While wandering through small shops in Manhattan he began acquiring materials with which he later made his first boxes. An admirer of the film East of Borneo (1931), Cornell recut the film, making it shorter and projecting it at a slower speed through a blue glass, the avant-garde work is titled Rose Hobart (1936), after the name of the film’s lead actress. Though Cornell was in a milieu of artists that included Marcel Duchamp and Carolee Schneemann, and often exhibited during his lifetime, he struggled financially while caring for his younger brother, who suffered from cerebral palsy. Cornell died in Queens, NY on December 29, 1972 at the age of 69. Today, the artist’s works are held in the collections of the Art Institute of Chicago, the Tate Gallery in London, the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., The Museum of Modern Art in New York, and the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis, among others.

Joseph Cornell | Artnet

it seems like a simple question with a simple answer for an artist as studied as cornell, but it seems like there is no compiled list of his complete works that i can find, and therefore no definitive answer to the question, how many assemblages did he make? most articles including the rigorously fact checked new yorker, give a hand wavey “ more than 200″.  i finally went and asked one of robot dingae, ready to be wowed my magical insights, but they had nothing, absolutely nothing, useful to say.

the artnet list is focused on sales, so it has duplicates, and omissions for works that have never officially changed hands, but it does include some “minor” works and ephemera that are rarely documented, and several i have never seen before

[stacyswirl]

Quite late, but that's what happens when you get a new job. Here's my personal top albums of 2024! Write-ups for each below, in ascending order.

17. Beth Gibbons – Lives Outgrown Portishead was always my favorite trip-hop group of the ‘90s, their uniquely dark sensibility inside the head-nodding beats and intricate record scratching really drew me in. And of course in the center of it all was the powerful yet ghostly voice of lead singer Beth Gibbons. Decades since Portishead’s 3rd and final album, she has put out her first solo album, and it is very unique. None of the hip-hop sound is here, but there is lots of rich, warm groove for her ethereal voice to float along with. I’ve seen it referred to as Chamber Pop, which fits. There are often thundering drums and classical instrumentation enveloping the listener. One of my favorite songs is “Rewind”, which sounds a little like if Mezzanine-era Massive Attack covered Dead Can Dance, mixed with some abstract jazzy stuff. “For Sale” includes some wonderful gypsyesque strings, it sounds like a song from a haunted pirate movie. The entire album is gorgeously mystical and dark.

16. Soccer Mommy – Evergreen Consistently beautiful, achingly emotional, Soccer Mommy makes some of the absolute best indie pop ever. I fell in love with her 2020 album Color Theory, and have since dug her entire back catalog and kept up on her subsequent releases. To varying degrees, all of her music is built off a bedrock of gentle, swirling acoustic guitars, sometimes layered and atmospheric, sometimes stripped bare. 2022’s Sometimes, Forever added in more electric crunch, but Evergreen dials it back down for the most part. She is the best at what she does, and what Soccer Mommy does is make lush indie pop to stare longingly into the night sky to.

15. Jack White – No Name The White Stripes were one of the most consistently interesting rock bands of the 2000s, crafting an incredible variety of vintage-blues-rock-meets-the-21st-century music. Since their breakup in 2011, I’ve never connected with any of the solo work or side projects that Jack White has made. Until now. His untitled new record, dropped out of nowhere as a surprise gift vinyl to shoppers at Third Man Records stores is a revelation. Both his strained voice and scratchy guitars have a great rough and tumble sound. The walking rhythms and pop melodies underneath that rough exterior make the songs incredibly listenable and enjoyable. A true modern classic.

14. Blink-182 – One More Time… Part 2 I assume these are just songs left off of last year’s One More Time, as that album had a lot of songs. However, these are not lesser than anything on that album, all the same richly produced electropop-punk sound is back on display, with catchy choruses and danceable beats aplenty. “See You” has a U2-esque smooth guitar sound backing its dreamy pop, punctuated by the sharp hits of Travis’s drumbeats. “Can’t Go Back” adds echoey piano into the mix, while “Everyone Everywhere” is a fast punk yell-along. It took me a while to listen to this album, but once I gave it a close listen I realized it’s just more of the same Blink goodness they’ve made since their self-titled. I didn’t expect more so soon, and I hope we eventually get a true follow-up, but even if not this is not a bad place to leave it.

13. Taylor Swift – The Tortured Poets Department / The Anthology Taylor Swift’s latest, a surprise double album, took me a long time to appreciate. Compared to her last… 6 albums at least, TTPD was very placid and lacking in memorable hooks the first few times I listened to it. The first song to crack through was The Anthology’s “thanK you aIMee”, her not so subtle diss track to Kim Kardashian. It had a memorable chorus and great melodies. One of the other best songs to me is “I Can Do It With A Broken Heart”, its fast-paced pitter patter is of a piece with songs like “Mastermind” from Midnights. I love it so much, but it is very much the exception that proves the rule on these albums. Listening to them over and over for months, it did slowly reveal itself. There is a lot to love, but it is still a minor entry in her discography for me.

12. Halsey – The Great Impersonator Each song on this album is inspired by a different singer throughout time, from Björk to Stevie Nicks, David Bowie to Britney Spears. Musically they somehow all merge together into an epic tapestry, all anchored by the truly unique voice of Halsey herself. Lyrically the album is about Halsey’s health struggles and contain plenty of off-putting vocabulary and winceworthy descriptions. A quick favorite is her Stevie Nicks inspired “Panic Attack”, it’s dreamy ‘70s strut is a perfect backing to Halsey’s comparisons between love’s and anxiety’s effect on the body. I absolutely loved Halsey’s 2021 album, a collaboration with Trent Reznor as producer. This album has a much more guitar-based and varied sound, but the power and vulnerability she showed there is still around in full force. This will be an album I enjoy digging into even further, it has a lot to offer.

11. Sum 41 – Heaven :x: Hell I haven’t really listened to an album by Sum 41 since 2004’s Chuck. This year they put out their final album, a 2 disc set where the first disc Heaven has songs in their early 2000s pop-punk sound, and the second disc Hell is more heavy metal, like what they’ve apparently been doing more recently. I loved both discs a lot! Heaven is a pure slice of nostalgia, bringing me right back to high school, when bands like Blink-182, The Offspring, and Sum 41 ruled TRL and my personal cd collection. “Landmines” and “Dopamine” were singles off this album, and both are perfectly catchy pop-punk, they bring smiles and headbanging in equal measure. The Hell side was really cool to me, as this is a side of the band I didn’t really know. They bring the same arresting hooks from their pop side and apply them to a sharper, louder metal sound. It’s supremely catchy speed metal. Many songs include legit guitar solos, “It’s All Me” has some wonderfully fun lead guitar shredding. “House of Liars” dials it back a bit, with something a little slower and darker. The entire album is a fitting testament to this band, I’m glad they went out on top, and I just might have to dig further into their discography after enjoying this heavier side they’ve got going on.

10. Finneas – For Cryin’ Out Loud Finneas’ 2021 album Optimist topped my list that year, so I had high hopes for its successor this year. But while Optimist had a wide variety of musical sounds, and tons of sexy fun hooks, For Cryin’ Out Loud is much more subdued. Most of the album has a smooth, ‘70s soul sound to it. It’s certainly pleasant, but just doesn’t grab me as much as I hoped. I respect his decisions though, and obviously he’s still a musical genius (spoilers for this year’s #1 album). The best song is easily lead single “For Cryin’ Out Loud”, it is similar in tone to Optimist’s “The ‘90s” with its effortless swagger instrumentation backing intensely anxious lyrics. I also really like “What’s It Gonna Take To Break Your Heart”, which starts off with that smooth ‘70s sound I mentioned before, then slowly grows into a richly layered soundscape of wailing heartbreak by the end. I love Finneas, he’s always magnetic and I love watching him grow as an artist. This one just fell a little short.

9. Dua Lipa – Radical Optimism Dua Lipa’s previous album, 2020’s Future Nostalgia, was a nonstop hit machine, just banger after certified banger, and landed at #3 on my list that year. Radical Optimism is not a radical departure, it’s more of the same but just a little lacking in impact. There is a lot to love though, lead single “Houdini” is the standout track, a classic bop that will stand the test of time. “Whatcha Doing” has the funky bass and headbopping beats to spare. One of the best and most unique songs is “Maria”, which has Dua Lipa trading in ‘90s style latin pop. Her voice is still breathy and beautiful with her accent providing a wonderful exotic edge. The catchy melodies and perfect beats are still there, it’s just a little more subdued compared to the neon explosion that was Future Nostalgia.

8. Beyoncé – Cowboy Carter I really fell for Beyoncé through Lemonade, her 2016 epic. I didn’t really relate to its follow-up, the house and dance-infused Renaissance, beyond its lead single “Break My Soul”. Upon learning that her next album would be country-infused I was immediately intrigued. One of my absolute favorite songs from Lemonade was the southern countrified “Daddy Lessons” and I was hoping for more of that. The first single from the album “Texas Hold’Em” was definitely in a similar vein, if a bit less intense. It’s an absolutely beautiful song, with a hillbilly groove anchored by banjo and acoustic percussion. The entire album is 27 tracks long (including some spoken intros and interludes and such) and runs the gamut of genre and tone. Most of it is at least somewhat folk-tinged if not outright country. There’s also a lot of modified covers and homages, from the Beatles’ Blackbird to Dolly Parton’s Jolene. Beyoncé makes these songs her own, often changing lyrics and crafting whole new narratives. I really enjoy the cover of Jolene, even if lyrically it’s very messy. Most of the album just flows, there are fun ‘radio show intro’ interludes giving the mishmash of an album a reason for its eclecticism. Finally, the best song on the album is an absolute showstopper called “Ya Ya”. It is the audio equivalent of a Quentin Tarantino film, where a bunch of genres were thrown into a blender and a whiskey-soaked badass banger sauntered out. It’s impossible not to dance to this song, it’s one of the coolest songs I’ve ever heard. Beyoncé’s absolute fearlessness, her commitment to reclaiming country music for black people, and her impeccable pop chops make this an album that demands to be heard, and I look forward to what she puts her stamp on next.

7. House of Protection – Galore EP I found this electro-metal band through either youtube or instagram recommendations, and was pretty instantly taken by their wild eclecticism and heavy guitars. They sometimes sound like if Slipknot and the Crystal Method got mixed up, with screeching, danceable big beats underneath loud guitars. The vocals alternate between shouting and melodic singing. It all makes for a very energetic combination, really fun to drive to. They have a modern nu-metal feeling to them, very multicultural. I’m always looking for more new heavy music, but am really picky about it. These guys cut through the noise with a simple and short gut punch of an EP. Their video for the opening song “Pulling Teeth”, filmed in India, is what really made me interested. I highly recommend it.

6. Sabrina Carpenter – Short n’ Sweet I knew her as Olivia Rodrigo’s blonde rival, but hadn’t really heard much of Sabrina Carpenter’s music, until this year when she completely blew up with the singles “Please Please Please,” Taste,” and above all else, “Espresso”. I found myself completely enraptured by “Espresso,” loving it whenever it played on the radio until I just had to get it on my computer. It has a vaporwave sound to its production, drenched in the dreamy side of the ‘80s. It’s easily one of my favorite songs of the year, a smooth slice of pop perfection. Very reminiscent of Cannons, my number 1 played artist for a couple years now. The rest of the album ranges from slightly softer, guitar based ballads to bouncy electronic bubblegum pop. I’m real happy to have a new pop princess in my rotation. 5. Slackerjazz – Couch Potato Soul Coughing described their music as “deep slacker jazz”. Several months ago, a very indie band called “Slackerjazz” posted links to their album on the Soul Coughing subreddit. They do a very credible Soul Coughing sendup, with the syncopated beats, standup bass, and science-fiction synths underneath weird poetry lyrics. The singer is female though, and the whole thing is less of a rip-off act the more I’ve listened to it. They manage to put their own twist on the already very idiosyncratic Soul Coughing formula, and I absolutely love it. For anyone who liked that band or just fans of weird, cool music in general, I can not recommend it enough. My favorite song is “Don’t You Dare”, check it out.

4. Sleater-Kinney – Little Rope When Sleater-Kinney broke up in 2006, I was devastated. They had just put out their most daring record, The Woods. I saw their final concert, in Portland, and figured that was it for “the best band of all time” (according to the Portland weekly paper I first heard about them in, in 2002). But in 2015 they reunited, putting out a new album that was a perfect follow-up to The Woods. Since then they’ve released 3 more albums, and I treasure each of them, like gifts from an alternate timeline. They’ve gone some very different places, to the edges of moody electronica and back. They’ve lost their drummer Janet. But the core of Sleater-Kinney, the dueling guitars and offset vocals of Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein are as sharp as ever. Little Rope opens with the fantastically dark “Hell”, haunting verses giving way to explosive choruses like only a 90s band can. The rest of the album never lets up, hitting all their flavors. The cheerful grrrl punk on “Don’t Feel Right” could’ve easily come off 2000’s All Hands On The Bad One, next to The Center Won’t Hold-esque electro rock on “Crusader”, and The Woods-light “Say It Like You Mean It”. I’ve been following this band for almost 25 years, and their passion and creativity have never disappointed. “Best band of all time” indeed.

3. Linkin Park – From Zero Speaking of bands with long hiatuses, 2024 truly was the year of Linkin Park’s resurrection. After the tragic passing of Chester Bennington in 2017, the band seemed irrevocably broken. Bandleader/producer/rapper Mike Shinoda continued to make music, and last year’s unburied gem in the 2003-era LP song “Lost” brought Linkin Park back into the pop landscape. This year they returned with a vengeance, bringing Dead Sara’s Emily Armstrong as a new lead. She doesn’t try to be Chester, she brings her own sound and fury to LP. They are the same, they are different. The album was preceded by three singles, the first of which, “The Emptiness Machine” is really the platonic ideal of a perfectly balanced Linkin Park song. It’s amazingly catchy and heavy, with a perfect intertwining of Mike and Emily’s voices. The second single “Heavy is the Crown” is a bit heavier, with more rapping, it reminds me of “Bleed it Out”. The third single brings it down a bit, “Over Each Other” is a slower, moodier, slightly poppier song sung solely by Emily. The rest of the album is great, it’s 11 songs and barely clears a half hour in length, but that means I have learned it front to back quite well, and quickly. One of my favorite tracks is “Overflow”, it’s a bit more electronic and atmospheric. As I get older and my favorite bands age too, their varying trajectories are very interesting to follow. Linkin Park’s has been one of the most unique, and I am just so happy for their revival. I’m grateful I was able to see them live at the height of their powers in 2003, and will soon be seeing LP 2.0 later this year. May their new life suit them well, and give us all more wonderful music.

2. DAVVN - BRBTTYL They don’t make ‘em like they used to, right? DAVVN is the brainchild of a couple millennials who don’t want to grow up, and prove that sometimes, they do make ‘em like they used to. This EP is jampacked full of early oughts style pop-punk, with a modern indie gloss sheen. The title track “BRBTTYL” directly references both Avril Lavigne and “We Didn’t Start the Fire” in its bouncy ode to millennial young adulthood. Every song is a relentless assault of hot pink guitars and bubblegum hooks. The first few times I heard them, I literally couldn’t believe that this was a new band, I said to myself “I can’t believe someone is making songs that sound like this again!” This is the sound of my adolescence, Avril and Blink-182 and Paramore. Plus, similar to Slackerjazz and 2022’s #4 album by Junatime, it’s just fun to love a super indie band, who no one else knows, a band you can really hold close and cherish as your own. I hope they tour, and come near here. That would be a really fun concert. This band is so small they don’t have any vinyl for sale, but instead have some burned CD-R mixes available to buy. They’re an adorable sugar rush for anyone with nostalgia for this time and style, and always bring a smile to my face.

1. Billie Eilish – Hit Me Hard and Soft On her third full-length album, Billie Eilish reigns supreme. 2021’s Happier Than Ever was a fantastic sophomore album, sharpening her sound while exploring a wider range of musical styles than her debut. But it was long. Too long. Hit Me Hard and Soft fixes that, giving us a ten song album, 43 minutes of sonic delight. Every song is a journey unto itself, each one goes through a transformation around 2/3rds through. Some are rather extreme, like “L’amour De Ma Vie” going from an organ-based french lolly to a sparkly rave full of raspy bass and echoey vocals. The standout single is “Birds of a Feather,” a gorgeous ballad anchored by Billie’s ethereal voice espousing her undying love. It’s a soft-pop classic that will stick around for a long time. My favorite is “Lunch,” with its funky bass and spy guitar sound providing the perfectly cool background for her sensually confident lyrics about every bisexual’s favorite… meal. Billie and her brother/producer Finneas are obviously having so much fun expanding their musical palette, and are gracing us with banger after banger. She’s one of the most unique voices in modern music, and coupled with his just-can’t-miss production chops they continue to be a force to be reckoned with.

[poki234]

Week 6 Artist Blog Post

A conversation happens between Brad Feuerhelm and Victor Cobo. Victor Cobo is a Spanish American photographer who lives in San Francisco known for his own style of black and white photography. Many subjects he has taken surround ideas of life, death, isolation, love, and most of the time, escapism. During his time in San Francisco, Cobo collaborated his efforts with another photographer named “Larry Fink.” Both of these photographers met each other at a photography exhibition in Chelsea. Over there, Cobo took the first stance by showing Fink how talented his photos are despite the lack of color shown through his production. Years later, Fink was so impressed by Cobo’s portfolio that Fink shared Cobo’s work with Italisn photo book publishers named “L’Artiere Edizioni.” Cobo believed that taking photos in color may seem natural and realistic at first, however it masks away the personal feeling of how an individual sees the world from their perspective. It’s the reason why he chose to create his own style of black and white photography. Cobo first became interested in doing his own style of black and white photography when he was a child growing up in Spain. Cobo saw the inspiration in using light in his photos to create a sense of personality through the subjects he takes. Cobo also talks about his toxic relationship with his abusive father from the trauma he has faced to expressing his desires of sharing his stories with others. Some of Cobo’s incredible works include “Forever In Dreams”, “Remember When You Loved Me?”, “Exit Pleasure”, “Behind The Smoke Colored Curtain”, and many more! One piece of work Cobo took is an untitled photo of an unidentified figure raising one of his hands parallel to his masked face. The mystery figure’s form takes up the majority of the composition giving some attention to them. When talking about the background around the silhouette of the mystery figure, there is a building slightly to the bottom left corner of the composition. The setting of where this photo was taken is not clear though the viewer could interpret the setting as a house. Similar to the use of light and shadows present in the mystery figure and the cut off building, there is a nice graduation of balanced values, each application being important to create texture in the clothing of the mystery figure and the building behind them. The dotted pattern gives an impression of a holy person who worships their god. It could be the reason why the photo is taken as a masked figure raising his hand since there is a wrapped book complementing the hand raise. It is unclear who the masked figure is because Cobo did not include a title that corresponds to this specific photo, the viewer will not know if the masked subject is someone Cobo has a strong connection with or it is a self-portrait of the artist himself. The only clues the viewer can infer is the slight transparency of the masked figure’s nose and lips sticking out of the black cloth. Although the viewer does not know who the masked figure is, one key thing to notcie from this photo is the masked figure engaging with the viewer by direct eye contact. Though it is not clear if the masked figure is looking directly at the viewer or in another direction.

2. Based on this specific photo, I would say that I like this specific photo because normally when I take photos myself, the outcom of my photo comes out colorful, full of life, and a clear theme. However when I look at this photo, it may seem that the photo is drained from life, a lack of color being used, and an unclear motive for taking this photo. Cobo’s own artistic style of using black and white photography has a clear transition yet harsh transition from the light values, to the middle values, and lastly to the dark values have some three dimensionality in the masked figure. It appears as Cobo has a strong relationship with this person as the hand raising acts like a stable link to the untitled book. Though it is most likely a book of the bible, otherwise I do not observe any reason Cobo included the mystery book in the first place. Cobo’s idea of taking photos as he walked along the street stood out to me because I take photos when they are in front of me, staying still in front of the camera. However, there are some moments where photographers need to prepare their camera settings ahead of time before taking a single photo or else the moment they figure out what camera setting fits best with the environment. The short event may pass away quickly if photographers are not prepared. In this case, Cobo had his masked subject directly in the center of the composition keeping in mind the positive and negative space before he takes the photo. I really like how Cobo’s photos stay true to his personal experiences with negativity, but the darkness was a way for him to experiment what type of lighting will create interest and drama Cobo visions his photos as. To improve this photo, I would say for Cobo to zoom out the camera a little bit just enough that the viewer can see the whole form of the masked figure because the masked figure appears as it is compressed down sinking more towards their forehead than their whole head. This photo may influence my own creative production because I observed that Cobo’s photos revolve around his personal experiences based on the stories he has shared with others. I always thought about black and white photography as two colors being combined together compared to applying a variety of colors giving the photo some sign of life. Cobo used either hard frontal lighting or hard bottom lighting since the direction of the shined light on the masked figure’s face shining directly at them or below them. If Cobo used soft light instead of hard light, then the masked figure’s face would be more transparent than having individual organic shapes placed on their face. If I was taking photos on my own time, I would need to observe where the light source comes from because knowing where the light source will come from determines the main focus of the subject and how I could plan ahead of time what lighting type fits the situation I’m in. Colored photos may seem appealing at the start, however I can see Cobo’s photos having some kind of theme or multiple themes if possible through the black and white approach. Without any type of light source, photos will appear as flat and solid filled similar to a black background in digital art. I could attempt to use the similar black and white approach to create some contrast in my photos through which direction the light source is coming from. Once I can gain an idea of where the light source is coming from, then I can determine how information or parts of the photos will be present giving the viewer some information about the subject and which distracting parts I would remove sending more attention to the main subject of the composition.

3. Unknown Photo by Victor Cobo

4. Black and White Photographer Victor Cobo's Website:

Victor Cobo Interview: There is No Darkness Without Light:

[reflective-muses]

(for Kaveh) 1, 3, 8, 15, 18

questions are from this ask meme

1) Their favourite time of year

Well, you see, Sumeru's rainforest doesn't really have seasons. The city and rainforest are warm and often humid with rain showers passing through here and there.

Kaveh enjoys the tropical climate and its consistent weather The desert is fine too, even if the temperatures are more extreme and the air is dry enough to give you cottonmouth.

He's never experienced snow, and there's definitely a lack of commissions in an area like Dragonspine. However, he has seen pictures of what autumn and winter are like in other countries. Going off of those, autumn looks breathtaking with the rainbow of warm hues covering the landscape.

He'd like to visit more places that have actual seasons to experience them for himself.

3) Their favourite type of landscape

Kaveh loves areas that are a blank canvas with a beautiful backdrop. The waterfalls behind the Palace of Alcazarzaray, or the sea at Port Ormos are two examples. He enjoys places that allow him to appreciate the natural beauty, especially if there is something unique about it such as Mawtiyima Forest and its enormous, fluorescent mushrooms.

8) Their most embarrassing moment

Kaveh says no comment.

Kaveh isn't getting away without an embarrassing moment.

It was during his Akademiya days within his (still) underfunded Darshan. Leaving a bunch of genius architecture and engineering students to their own devices would never end well.

Kaveh, in his late-teens, sleep-deprived and fueled solely by caffeine, had an idea. He could make a device that would brew and bring coffee to him so he didn't even need to get up from his work. There were tons of spare parts of various mechanics lying around the Kshahrewar labs, after all.

Engineering something was a break from the intense architecture classes, and if this worked it would make his life more convenient.

The project came to a halt when he went to test it for the first time and not only did part of it blow up with a dark cloud of smoke in his face, but it also leaked half-brewed, luke warm coffee onto his robes.

The coffee stain never did come out.

15) Any nervous tics they may have

Kaveh will at times fidget or pick at his fingers. Sometimes he doesn't even notice he does it.

18) Their most prized possession

The Old Sketchbook, originally given to him by his mother. It has chronicled his life from when he received it as a child into his adulthood. Within its pages are various memories, some painful, some positive and some mundane but important to him in some way.

Entries include:

glued-together pages with a drawing of someone in quicksand and a postscript pleading for forgiveness,

mentions of a new friend and their similarities differences, but that this could push them both in regards to their contradictory speculations and philosophies,

a torn up thesis cover that has been pieced back together,

an excerpt from an untitled Akademiya publication,

many architectural sketches with timetables and notes; the handwriting goes from smooth and legible to messy scrawls as it seems deadlines are closing in,

a real-estate transfer certificate,

interior design sketches, presumably of the second floor of Lambad's tavern,

rent records,

a toolbox design draft he has affectionally named Mehrak.

There are no further entries after this.

[even-love-unreturned]

Meanings behind Chain of Iron chapter titles (part I, Ch1-15)

1. The Bright Web

From Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s sonnet “Body’s Beauty” (1866), alternatively titled “Lilith”, written to accompany his painting Lady Lilith.

Of Adam's first wife, Lilith, it is told (The witch he loved before the gift of Eve,) That, ere the snake's, her sweet tongue could deceive, And her enchanted hair was the first gold. And still she sits, young while the earth is old, And, subtly of herself contemplative, Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave, Till heart and body and life are in its hold.

2. All That Turns

3. Bitter and Sweet

4. A Good Name

From “This Marriage” by Rumi, date unknown.

May these vows and this marriage be blessed. May it be sweet milk, this marriage, like wine and halvah. May this marriage offer fruit and shade like the date palm. May this marriage be full of laughter, our every day a day in paradise. May this marriage be a sign of compassion, a seal of happiness here and hereafter. May this marriage have a fair face and a good name, an omen as welcome as the moon in a clear blue sky. I am out of words to describe how spirit mingles in this marriage.

5. The King is Dead

“The King is dead, long live the King“ is a well-known traditional saying, and is the first thing that comes to mind, though I’m not convinced that this is the particular source for this title.

6. Things To Come

There are way too many possibilities for this one to narrow it down. I’ll put two of them here:

One the poem “The Flesh and the Spirit“ by Anne Bradstreet, published in 1650. An excerpt:

In secret place where once I stood Close by the Banks of Lacrim flood, I heard two sisters reason on Things that are past and things to come. One Flesh was call’d, who had her eye On worldly wealth and vanity; The other Spirit, who did rear Her thoughts unto a higher sphere.

And the other is “Frost at Midnight” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, written in 1798. An excerpt:

So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted me With a wild pleasure, falling on mine ear Most like articulate sounds of things to come! So gazed I, till the soothing things, I dreamt, Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged my dreams!

7. Tread Lightly

Perhaps “Requiescat” by Oscar Wilde, written in the 1880s. In the poem, the speaker speaks of and to an unnamed woman, who is buried and cannot hear.

Tread lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow.

All her bright golden hair Tarnished with rust, She that was young and fair Fallen to dust.

8. To Bring a Fire

Most of the references I can find for this are Biblical passages, but none exact.

9. The Scars Remaining

Most likely from “Christabel”, an unfinished narrative ballad written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge from 1797-1800. The ballad focuses on a young lady named Christabel and her encounter with a strikingly beautiful stranger called Geraldine, who claims to have been kidnapped from her home. Christabel takes Geraldine in to share her bed, and they spend the night together. The story also involves Geraldine putting a spell on Christabel that leaves her unable to tell anyone about what they do or what Geraldine’s “true form“ is.

Brings to mind a certain other strikingly beautiful character in TLH who also does spells to a similar effect, doesn’t it?

This excerpt that includes the phrase “the scars remaining”, however, is about Christabel’s father and his long-lost friend with whom he had a falling-out, but who also turns out to be Geraldine’s father.

They parted—ne'er to meet again! But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining— They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between;— But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.

10. The Damned Earth

Likely from Edgar Allen Poe’s poem, “Lenore”, published in 1843.

Avaunt! to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise, “But waft the angel on her flight with a Pæan of old days! “Let no bell toll! — lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth, “Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damned Earth. “To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven — “From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven — “From grief and groan, to a golden throne, beside the King of Heaven.

11. Crowns and Pounds and Guineas

From an untitled poem (but often identified by its first line) by A. E. Housman, included in his poetry book A Shropshire Lad, published in 1896. According to Wikipedia, this collection sold “slowly at first, it then rapidly grew in popularity, particularly among young readers. Composers began setting the poems to music less than ten years after their first appearance.”

When I was one-and-twenty I heard a wise man say, “Give crowns and pounds and guineas But not your heart away; Give pearls away and rubies But keep your fancy free.” But I was one-and-twenty, No use to talk to me.

12. Requiem

A requiem is a mass for the repose of the souls of the dead, or a piece of musical composition in honor of the dead. It’d be impossible to narrow this down to a specific quote, though.

13. The Wintry Wind

Likely from “The Withering of the Boughs“ by W. B. Yeats, published as part of his poetry volume In The Seven Woods (1903). Each of the three stanzas of the poem ends with the following two lines:

“No boughs have withered because of the wintry wind, The boughs have withered because I have told them my dreams.”

14. The Flaming Forge

From “The Village Blacksmith“ (1840) by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The poem makes use of the image of “the flaming forge“ twice.

And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.

[…]

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.

15. Walk by Daytime

From poem V in “A Dark Month” by Algernon Charles Swinburne, written in May 1881.

Dreams that strive to seem awake, Ghosts that walk by daytime, Weary winds the way they take, Since, for one child's absent sake, May knows well, whate'er things make Sport, it is not Maytime.

Part 2 (chapters 16-29) here.

[ingek73]

Juneteenth

STORY by Team at Archewell

Jun. 16, 2021

YOUNG POETS OF GET LIT SHARE POWERFUL WORDS TO COMMEMORATE THE DAY

In honor of Juneteenth, we, at Archewell, connected with our friends at Get Lit and asked them to share poetry to honor this important day. We hope their poignant words allow you to reflect on the significance of this newly declared federal holiday in the United States and its impact across this country and around the world.

AND HOLD, AND HOLD

CORTUNAY MINOR AND TAMIA JACKSON

WHY THEY WROTE THIS POEM:

“When I wrote this poem, just a few weeks before June 15th, Juneteenth wasn’t yet a federal or national holiday. It wasn’t something I’d given much thought to, but when I had recognized that fact, it wasn’t information, it was confirmation. At first, I was upset about it. My immediate thoughts were along the lines of, ‘Where are our fireworks? Where’s our three-day weekend?’ But in reflection, I realized that this was demonstrating continued deference to a supposedly superior entity. Juneteenth isn’t the ‘Black Independence Day,’ it’s the only Independence Day. To have that nationally recognized feels amazing. But whether or not the date is printed in every calendar does not validate this holiday. We do.”

WHY SHE ANIMATED THIS PIECE:

“This poem, especially for Juneteenth, really inspired me. The color palette expresses the somber yet hopeful emotions that happen when black freedom is discussed, and what it means to be a Black individual in America. This poem as well as the visuals really emphasizes the impact that Black people have by simply existing, and the importance of our breath. We know that as long as we’re still breathing there can and will be change, and ultimately full freedom.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Cortunay Minor (she/they) is a performing artist who specializes in Stage Acting and Spoken Word Poetry. They are currently pursuing a bachelor’s degree in Theater from the UCLA School of Theater, Film, and Television. The theme and goal that Minor tries to hold in the heart of their artistry is liberation, be that emotional, intellectual, or otherwise. Expression and education are two of the most fruitful paths Minor has found that achieve that liberation, and she is immensely grateful to be able to participate in a craft that allows their simultaneous occurrence.

ABOUT THE ANIMATOR:

Tamia Jackson (animator) is a rising senior at the Rhode Island School of Design, receiving her BFA in Film/Animation/Video with a minor in Literary Arts and Studies. She has always been passionate in art, animation, and storytelling. She loves bringing stories of lesser voices, such as BIPOC, low income, female, etc., into a visual and cared-for light. Though not all of her stories or animations revolve around such identities, it is important that she shows diversity so that many people can relate and find comfort in the characters or art piece. Not only does Jackson enjoy spreading her own voice, but she also loves bringing others’ stories to life.

AND HOLD, AND HOLD

‘Holiday’ meaning ‘Holy Day’ meaning:

every second is sacred/every hour hibernates

within the spirit, huddled beneath the bosom.

To breathe is to commemorate:

inhale – exhale – cradle the thought – hold – and repeat.

When daybreak demotes breath to subconscious action,

the diaphragm still submits in reverence, still remembers that

This is Divine. This

is where jubilation begins:

in the suspension of

breathe in – breathe out – take maybe – and

forever hold the moment,

where the deferred dream stopped shriveling,

wavered in anticipation, remembered that expansion

can be soft,

recognized that it didn’t want soft

expansion.

Bodies were policied out of possession, but

the Black individual liberated their own being,

hollered themself out of state-sanctioned silence.

Words ignite, but presence sustains; this intake/expel maintains us

here

the dream explodes. The spirit absorbs the remnants and outpours,

‘holiday’ meaning ‘Holy Day’ meaning:

I hold this day as sovereign. Meaning:

I hope this day knows its home is in these lungs,

is in this breath, is in the repetition of:

inspire – expire – immortalize the memory – and hold – and hold – and release

POPLAR TREES

CYRUS ROBERTS

WHY HE WROTE AND DIRECTED THIS POEM:

“It’s easy to say “slavery was an atrocity and we need to do better” but it’s much more difficult to say “slave masters ripped babies from their mothers and used them as crocodile bait for sport.” In the average American lexicon, phrases like ‘Never Forget’ are commonplace but are rarely attributed to periods of fundamental, ongoing violence of a racial nature for the simple fact that our pain makes the people who benefitted from that pain uncomfortable. For me Juneteenth is a day of mourning; the Confederate holidays still celebrated today seem like a gruesome counterbalance. So this is my eulogy to both the country and my own being that could have been.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Cyrus Roberts (he/him) writes, acts, and directs across poetry, theater, and film. While his work has been commissioned by organizations like Toms Shoes, Adidas, and March For Our Lives, he also enjoys working on cool independent projects, whether he’s self-publishing poetry compilations, creating movies with friends, or acting in his own plays. Roberts is currently a senior in UC Santa Barbara’s BFA Acting program. Look for him in the upcoming film Summertime, directed by Carlos Lopez Estrada. His assistant director on the project was Mattie Kranz.

POPLAR TREES

Before you there was me. But before me there was (Nina Simone audio: “black bodies swinging”). And that was the gentler time period. Everything base within you, reflected in your actions. Please don’t censor me when I mention how you wrangled our teeth from our mouths and used them to seduce your own illnesses into submission. Or how you took an interest in the skin that had a monopoly on sunlight and then took what you wanted underneath the moon. Or how you used our babies as crocodile bait and our skin as shoe leather. Look right into the eyes of our demise and try to say those times are past, that I’m being rash, that I’m being bad and so full of woe and I should be glad I’m writing this on my MacBook Pro. Yeah? Who am I to complain about slavery? Because it ended, right? On June 19, 1865, Union Army general Gordon Granger made his way to Texas and proclaimed slavery’s supposed fall and us colored folk supposed to have a ball? I mean it was two and a half years after Lincoln already announced it, but we needed a white man to tell other white men what another white man already said. I mean that is until that white man found himself dead and Reconstruction found itself at a head and chain gangs, sharecropping, Jim Crow, private prison options, perc popping, bodies dropping, cops still stopping, guns cocking to ensure that (Nina Simone audio: “black bodies swinging”). Every 19th of June we celebrate the end of chattel slavery and every 20th we’re back to fighting its descendants. Private prisons / a cop’s knee is a modern lynching / it ain’t my decision to get busy dyin’ or busy living / I paid attention, to all the digitized depictions / all the people packing up pensions while we’re backed up by the system. Put your back into the system, this is wack how mother’s missing their babies kisses and I’m supposed to be celebrating? I’m sorry. Will you forgive me, I’m jaded. My grandmother looks at me and says confidently that I made it. That she can’t possibly imagine the life that I’m living, I owe a debt to her generation, and I hope that I pay it. I just get so angry, hazy laughter at the thought of thoughts and prayers ending enslavement. So after you hear me, I’ll forgive you if you’re jaded. But you still need to know the history to have an appreciation. It’s no mystery why it’s a mystery present in our education, presently the gatekeepers keep us from it and it’s heinous. On Juneteenth, Americans across the nation eat red foods in honor of the blood spilled before and during emancipation, we celebrate the secondary, pushed-to-the-side independence day, but you don’t have to know our proclamations of jubilation for us to be heard. We will be heard in our voices screaming thanks that we are not treated as herd. We dance and we sing hymns of freedom. Freedom: absence of subjection to foreign domination or despotic government. Are my brothers and sisters in jail cells free? When there’s a glaring loophole in the 13th amendment smiling from cheek to cheek I’d imagine there’d be some incentive to ensure our purity is never free. And how can I be free when I can’t sleep because my dreams keep whispering I can’t breathe. Regardless of that fact, progress is still being made. But I fear progress is just an exchange of chains for other chains. Same way they changed our names for other names, I rest a bouquet on the graves of enslaved, singing regardless this day. In the hopes that I never again have to see (Nina Simone audio: “black bodies swinging”).

UNTITLED

SIERRA LEONE ANDERSON

WHY SHE WROTE THIS POEM:

“When writing this poem, I really made an effort to think back to my ancestors. What was their impact? Who did they inspire? How did they carve the path for the road I now choose to take? This poem is about legacy. I am calling back to the ancestors before me to give me the strength and courage to be the ancestor I want to be to future generations.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Sierra Leone Anderson (poet) is a youth activist and professional spoken word artist from Los Angeles. Rooted in liberatory joy and armed with ancestral truth, Sierra Leone aims to bring light to the power of language, empowering Los Angeles youth of color to recognize the quantifiable influence of their voice. She has placed both second and first in Get Lit’s annual middle and high school Classic Slam respectively, co-wrote an article for the political column of USA Today, and has shared space with several influential changemakers including Dr. Melina Abdullah (co-founder of BLM-LA) and Cecily Myart-Cruz (president of UTLA). Her other organizing work includes collaborating with Students Deserve LA to make Black Lives Matter in and beyond schools. She is currently a ninth grade student at Girls Academic Leadership Academy and an avid lover of trashy teenage dramedies.

Her director and editor is Lukas Lane, an award-winning filmmaker and founding member of Literary Riot (started in his junior year of high school), and he is currently attending UC Berkeley.

UNTITLED

Every generation, the world gives birth to a new fleet of freedom fighters.

I am one of them.

I stand on the shoulders of tired women.

I dance in the footsteps of Pan-African poets, liberation fighters, and Black writers

who grew fires from a pit hungrier than a stomach. They call my name and I call theirs.

Malcolm X. Phyllis Wheatley. Maya Angelou. Sojourner Truth. Audre Lorde. Ida B. Wells.

Your resilience rivers through me. You are my founding fathers. The blueprint to a world we need to be brave enough to see, to seek.

Let us imagine a world in which we know each other’s palms

and never the fist. Not unless needed. Not unless united together.

Let us be the drum and not the war.

Let us know each other’s names and not the languages we cry in.

Let us be, let all us be more than a slave’s wildest dream

Let us beam past blueprints and what-ifs and start becoming the now we want to see, the now we want to be

Trees growing so far past the Earth, Allah would mistake our bodies for angels.

When I die, I want to ripple through lifetimes. I want my name to graffiti the mouths of the next 10 generations.

I don’t want to be forgotten. Or remembered for the way my feet wouldn’t stop running.

I wanna grow roots in this soil, in this American skin. Join the forest of my ancestors. Let my grandkids climb up my branches and tell stories of school.

And before the first pulse of morning, I want them to drip from their homes and gather at my roots.

I want to tell them my name before I forget it.

I want to tell them that morning is coming. And will always come. And will never wait for when you are ready.

I want to tell them that there is a point far beyond this tree, this forest, this temporary point in time, their bodies, their fears, their fathers, their memories. Where the sun is eternal and smiling. Where freedom rings and is never silent, never out of reach. It is called horizon. And it is right there.