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midnightsvns · 4 years

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Now I see daylight — a Twilight fanfic

summary: Edward spent his life so long in a ninety-year midnight. Now, all he sees is daylight. A short story about Nessie’s first prom. “How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.” words: 8,280.

AN: so. i was absolutely wrecked after reading the very sad note on which midnight sun ended. to lick my wounds, i wrote this fic, set 12 years after breaking dawn, on the day of nessie’s prom. 404 plot not found just fluff of edward & bella being happy with their now adult daughter. title/summary inspired by the t.s. song daylight. full text under the cut!

Bella and I walked with hands intertwined in the woods behind our house, on our way to the cottage a few miles away that served as our daughter Renesmee’s “room.” When she turned seven, we decided she deserved a space of her own, a space that was removed from her supernatural family who could hear every move she made even if she had a whole floor of the house to herself. It was not unlike the first cottage the three of us had lived in together, back in Forks, in the first year of Bella and I’s marriage. To me, those days seemed as close as yesterday—in reality, twelve years had passed like the blink of an eye. Our daughter was all grown-up now, about to graduate high school for the first time, and today was her very first prom.

We walked at human pace, enjoying the lights and the sounds of early morning in the forest. Before Bella, I would have hated moving at such a glacial pace, always wanting to reach my destination as fast as possible, never lingering under the sunlight long enough to contemplate the diamond-like sparkling of my marble skin. A constant reminder of my inhumanity. But now I relished having the chance to see my wife in the light of day. I knew that all the poets and philosophers who, for two thousand of years, had tried to define beauty, to describe it, had irrevocably failed—because none of them had been fortunate enough to witness Bella smiling and shining under the golden rays of sunlight. I squeezed her hand and chuckled to myself.

Bella, of course, noticed my jocularity. “What are you thinking about?” she wondered.

“I thought that was my line,” I replied, grinning at her. Bella easily controlled her gift now, raising and lowering her mental shields at will. Except in special moments of communication, her shields were always up. She could maintain shields around other people, too, granting peace for me and privacy for my family. The quiet that resulted inside my head was a balm; I could be thankful for it for a hundred years and it would not be enough.

She sighed, and her eyes were suddenly downcast. “Well, I’m glad one of us is cheerful enough to laugh today.” She stopped walking, let go of my hand, and sought shelter under the shadow of a large evergreen tree. I regretted seeing her move away from the sunshine.

Her mournful tone surprised me. “What’s wrong, love? You’ve been looking forward to Renesmee’s prom for weeks now.” It was all I heard the ladies at the house discussing as of late. Alice, our very own literal visionary, was making all their dresses, works of art that were sure to rival even the most revered of Paris’ haute couture scene. Rosalie was browsing our family’s sizable collection of jewelry—composed of heirlooms from our human lives and the very many anniversary gifts from over the decades—for the perfect sets of accessories that would go with Alice’s creations. Esme was renovating and redecorating the front room, the staircase, and the porch, in preparation for today’s sure-to-be endless photo opportunities.

Bella looked up at me, her golden eyes looking regretful. “I just… can’t help but be a little sad that she’s grown up so fast. She’s only twelve, Edward. I spent more time as a clumsy, awkward human child than I’ve spent as her mother,” Bella said, sighing again. “And now she’s graduating and going off to college for the first time? She’s not an adult! How are we even sure she’s fit to be by herself in the human world already? How is she gonna eat? How will she hunt? What if she needs us, or she gets hurt and Carlisle can’t get to her in time? She can’t just go to a human doctor!” Her voice got more and more agitated with every worry she voiced. “And what if she starts dating? And she doesn’t tell us because we’re not there?! She says she’s not interested in anyone romantically now, boys or otherwise, but it’s her first four years in college! She’s bound to catch the sights of some… some no-good jerk who—”

“Stop, Bella,” I said gently, interrupting her before she could spiral any further. I had to resist the urge to laugh at her tirade. It reminded me of the time I went on a very similar, equally anxious rant. Emmett had thought I was a crazy person, worrying about the myriad things that could wipe the human girl I loved out of existence. This time, though, these worries were much easier for me to assuage than when I was fretting over Bella’s mortality and her uncanny ability to attract danger.

I joined her under the cover of the tree and held her marble face in my hands. “Love, I understand wholly all of your anxieties. They’re mine, too. But we need to put a significant amount of trust and faith in our daughter if we want to stay sane during the next four years,” I said earnestly, cracking a little smile, and then started addressing Bella’s concerns one at a time.

“I’m also sad that it has been just twelve short years, and already, we have to let her go. And as much as we may not like it, she is an adult now. She has been for five years. I know she grew up too fast, but if that is the small sacrifice that makes the miracle of her existence possible, then so be it. And she’s had no problems being around humans since she started high school with us when she was eight. As for her eating habits, well, I am worried about the amount of junk food she’ll consume once she is left unsupervised. And she doesn’t need to hunt as frequently as we do…. Once, maybe twice, a month, she can come back here and any one of us would love to go hunting with her. She is also not so fragile that she would ever need the care of any other doctors than Carlisle, Rosalie, or me. As for her first romantic relationship, well... she’s smart, strong-willed. We have to trust that we have raised her well enough that she’ll be responsible, that she’ll know how to protect her heart, and that she’ll be comfortable enough to turn to us for any questions she might have. You are a good mother, Bella. You raised an amazing young woman.” She looked as though she was about to argue, but she said nothing. She must have lowered her shield because I heard her thoughts instead: We raised an amazing young woman. You, Carlisle, Esme, Rose, Alice, Emmett, and Jasper… Even Charlie, Sue, Jacob, and Seth. It really does take a village. Her smile was wry.

I shook my head and smiled back at her. She was still bad at taking compliments. “We just have to trust Ness, love. As much as I would never want to see her hurt, we have to let her make her own mistakes. To let her take risks. And we have to give her freedom while she still thinks it’s ours to grant. If she thinks she’s not ready for this yet, or becomes overwhelmed in any way, she knows she can come back home at any time. All we can do is be there for her, and as long as she knows she’s not alone in this, that she never has to carry the world on her shoulders because we’re supposed to carry part of it for her… She will be fine.”

I looked straight into my wife’s eyes, still holding her face, hoping I had eased her anxieties a little. She visibly relaxed, then placed her hands over mine.

“You know, I really hate it when you make sense,” Bella stated matter-of-factly, glaring at me and pouting a little. I laughed and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Then I pulled her close to my side and led us back on the way to Renesmee’s cottage. If, thirteen years ago, anyone—even Alice—had told me that someday I would be trying to soothe Bella after a bout of anxiety instead of the other way around, I would have laughed in their face.

We made it to the cottage in companionable silence, and Bella’s mood seemed cheerier than before, back to being excited for the day’s events. She knocked on the door, calling for Nessie to wake up, but our daughter opened the door in a flash, greeting us with a chipper hello and a wave to indicate that we should let ourselves in.

“Good morning, Ness. You’re up early,” I commented. Not that our daughter was a late sleeper, but she was also not what one would call a morning person.

“I’m very well-rested, thank you,” she said, walking to the couch in the middle of the cottage’s main living area and plopping down onto it.

“How many hours did you sleep last night?” I asked, suspicious. Half-human, half-vampire hybrid though she was, Carlisle’s recommendation was still at least seven hours of sleep a night, and she often ignored it.

“Seven,” she replied too fast. I raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, six. Maybe five total…” she grimaced, sheepish now. “I was reading books! And I finished a movie.” I was unhappy to hear it. We really didn’t have an exact number of how many hours of sleep she needed each night, but I was sure five wasn’t enough for anyone, human or otherwise. I shook my head and sat next to her on the couch.

The cottage was a cozy place, with a kitchenette in the main room, one bedroom and a small bathroom down a narrow hallway. The main area was where Nessie spent most of her time, a rectangular room with big windows that let in a generous amount of natural light. The wide wall in front of the couch served as the canvas for a mural of the turquoise sea and white-sand beach at Isle Esme, painted from memory by Bella and Renesmee. The three of us had spent two weeks there a couple of years ago to celebrate Nessie’s birthday and my tenth wedding anniversary with Bella. It was my favorite painting in the world.

On the eastern wall was a bay window, Renesmee’s favorite reading nook, flanked by two tall bookshelves. And in front of the couch was a low coffee table, cluttered with books, stacks of paper, journals, pens, paints and paintbrushes, canvasses, coffee mugs, and a laptop. I sighed. The organized chaos, as Ness often referred to it, reminded me much of her mother’s old room at the Swan residence. Bella started tidying up the table immediately, replacing books onto the shelves and rearranging the mess on the table. I turned my attention to the kitchenette’s dirty dishes and the haphazardly discarded clothes on the couch, shaking my head at the untidiness. She spent her days with us either at school or at the main house, and sometimes even slept there when she felt like it. How could one girl create so much disarray after one night?

“Mom, Dad, stop it, I’ll do that later…” Nessie admonished us halfheartedly, but we were done cleaning up before she finished speaking the sentence.

“Did you already have breakfast, honey?” Bella asked.

Ness nodded and grinned. “I had cereal and two Pop-Tarts.”

Wonderful. Clearly she knew how to make healthy choices. I almost wished for the time before she had outgrown her distaste for human food. At least on a diet of animal blood, we knew she was getting some nutrients.

Bella rolled her eyes, although I knew she wasn’t really annoyed. “Esme will make you eat some fruit at the house. Are you ready to go now? Alice wants to do a final fitting of your dress, just in case she needs to make any changes.”

“It’s too bad Aunt Alice can’t see me in her visions. She could just decide to make any changes and then know which ones are right,” Nessie mused, then shook her head and bounded up from the couch, walking quickly down the hallway and into her bedroom. She came out a second later, hands deftly fastening a necklace on the nape of her neck. It was the necklace Rosalie had given her as a present for her birthday last year, a thin platinum chain and an oval pendant with the family crest on it. We filed out of the cottage, and Bella locked the door behind her.

The three of us walked together, Nessie in the middle. I asked her what books she was reading last night that she had gotten so little sleep. Instead of communicating verbally, she held my hand and showed me.

I started seeing her memories from only a few hours ago, implanted into my mind as seamlessly as though they were my own. I saw her reading all seven books of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series and watching the first film adaptation. I saw how much she’d enjoyed them. Then, I saw her thoughts on the character Aslan, the wise talking lion and savior of Narnia. She admired him, his kindness and wisdom and compassion…. Suddenly, I saw my own face mixed in with images of the lion. She was trying to tell me the lion reminded her of me.

It shocked me. I’d enjoyed the world of Narnia at the time they were published and became widely popular in the 1950s, and even Bella had told me it was one of her favorite book series. As a lonely immortal, I’d always taken comfort in the fact that I had an Aslan-like figure in my life to look up to. My father, Carlisle. It never occurred to me to think that I could ever fill that role for someone else.

I must be doing something right, I marveled to myself. If Renesmee could liken me to someone who reminded me so much of Carlisle, then perhaps fatherhood wasn’t as lost on me as I had so often felt it was. It was like I was walking on a cloud, an invisible weight lifted off my shoulders. I wrapped my arm around Nessie as we walked, trying to let her know how much I appreciated the privilege of her sharing her thoughts with me. And then she surprised us by speaking in a serious tone.

She moved away from under my arm and moved a few paces ahead, turning around so she could face us. She walked backwards as she talked, her footing steady and sure. “Momma, Daddy, I don’t think I’ve thanked either of you yet… for allowing me to go and study on my own. I know you’ve always tried to let me have a normal childhood, to make sure I never missed out on anything. I love living with you guys. I love talking to Grandpa Carlisle about history and art. I love helping Grandma work on houses. I love shopping and appreciating fashion with Aunt Alice and Aunt Rose. I love playing chess with Uncle Jasper and Uncle Emmett. I love our piano lessons, Daddy, and our two-person exclusive book club, Momma. I love going back to Forks on holidays to visit Grandpa Charlie. I love our baseball games. But now I’m ready to experience the world for myself. I know it must be hard to let me go and that you’re scared for me. I’m scared, too….”

If my heart were still alive, it might have grown in size from the joy I felt. Renesmee rarely addressed us this way anymore. It was always Mom and Dad or Edward and Bella, if we were in public. It carried me back to the days when she was still just a little child. A rapidly growing, highly intelligent child, but still our little child. She was always so perceptive; it was as though she’d sensed the essence of the conversation Bella and I had had before we reached the cottage, and this sober declaration was her way of telling us she understood.

“You have nothing to thank us for, sweetheart,” I said quickly, at the same time that Bella hurried to ask Nessie what she was afraid of, concern in her voice.

Our daughter blew out a long breath. “I’m scared of living alone, of being completely responsible for myself. But I’m really excited about it, too, and most of the time the excitement overpowers any doubts I have. I’m certain I wanna do this, and don’t they always say that something isn’t worth doing if you’re not at least a little bit afraid?” she asked, her smile reaching her deep brown eyes.

Bella paused and left my side to grasp our daughter by the shoulders. “All we want, Nessie, all we will ever want, is your happiness. And we want you to find out what that means for you on your own terms. If you decide tomorrow that you’d be happy never going to college at all, none of us will argue with your decision. But I can see how sure you are about going. I can’t promise you that I won’t be worried sick and that I won’t be calling you multiple times a day until you’re very, very annoyed with me… But I know you can take care of yourself now, and I can’t wait to see what you do next, baby.” Bella’s lovely voice sounded assured, no trace of the anxiety she’d confided in me just moments earlier. This was what I meant whenever I told Bella she was a good mother, and seeing her in action never failed to earn my awe.

“Thank you, Momma,” Renesmee said sincerely, circling her arms around Bella, and Bella hugged her back. “And I promise I will never be annoyed by your calls, even if you call a hundred times a day,” she said, grinning. “I won’t ignore yours, either, Daddy.”

This made me and Bella laugh. Of course Nessie would make time to take her crazy parents’ calls. No one was sweeter than our daughter.

Their hug ended, and we kept walking. Suddenly there was a glint of mischief in Renesmee’s eyes, and then she touched my arm and Bella’s to tell us we were being challenged to a race. Before the thought was even fully communicated she had already taken off running to the house. I shook my head and chuckled as we hurried after her. She couldn’t quite run as fast as vampires, but the head start might be enough to guarantee her win.

When we reached the house, my brothers were waiting outside for us to arrive. They both had cameras in hand—Jasper a professional digital SLR and Emmett a Polaroid instant camera. With Bella around, I couldn’t hear their minds, so I raised an eyebrow at the both of them in question. What were they up to now?

“Nessie’s already in the house, you rusty old slowpokes,” Emmett said in greeting, mocking me and Bella. But mostly me. “And to think you used to be the fastest, Edward. What a fall from grace. Let me take a picture of this really embarrassing moment for you real quick.” He positioned the instant camera near my face and pressed a button, and it started whirring as it printed out the picture. He grinned and deposited it into a large red handbag, presumably Rosalie’s, that he had slung over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes at my brother and asked what they were doing with the cameras instead of responding to Emmett’s attempts at vexing me. It was Jasper who answered. “We’re having a photography competition. Whoever contributes the most shots for Esme’s photo albums will win. She’s planning to keep one for us and one to send to Forks for Charlie, so we’ll need a lot of pictures.”

“Yeah, and the winner—who will definitely be me—gets to skip the bake sale that Esme is going to for some hospital fundraiser,” Emmett explained with an arrogant smile. I rolled my eyes again. Of course my brothers had found a way to turn this day into some kind of contest.

“Doesn’t the Polaroid give you a pretty significant disadvantage, Em?” I pointed out, wondering how much film he was lugging around in Rose’s handbag.

“Just because it’ll be more challenging doesn’t mean I can’t still win,” he replied, shrugging. “The pictures I take will be better. Plus, the easy way is overrated, don’t you think?”

Jasper shook his head at Emmett’s smugness, then told me and Bella to pose for a picture. I turned to Bella and she turned to me, and I held both of her hands. I smiled adoringly down at her as she stared back up at me with her deep, amber eyes. We weren’t looking at the cameras, but I heard the workings of the two small devices as my brothers captured the moment.

“Aww, you two are disgusting,” Emmett chuckled as Jasper showed the photograph to all of us on the camera’s tiny screen. “Esme’s going to love that one.” The Polaroid Emmett had taken was still developing, and he shoved it inside the red bag with all the others. Then they went inside to find better subjects for their contest.

Bella and I made our way inside as well. The house was alive with the whole family looking forward to tonight’s events. I heard Alice, Rosalie, and Nessie in Alice’s room, chattering and working away on their gowns. I heard Esme in the kitchen, making breakfast for Renesmee or perhaps practicing some recipes for the upcoming bake sale. I heard Jasper and Emmett running around everyone like a couple of paparazzi, taking pictures left and right. Only Carlisle was absent, hard at work at the hospital, but he’d be back in time to see us all off to prom tonight. Bella kissed my cheek in farewell before joining Nessie with her aunts upstairs.

I gravitated towards the piano, as I often did. I scanned the perfect mental repository of all the music I knew, trying out a few bars from different pieces—some my own compositions and some written by better musicians than I—but none of them spoke to me…. Until one did. I sat down and began playing the first notes of “Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity” from Holst’s orchestral suite, The Planets. It was a piece that sounded abundantly better when played by a full orchestra, but I enjoyed it regardless. My hands glided quickly across the piano keys to produce the quick, jaunty chords of the exposition. Then the development came in ritardando, varying from the cheery main theme to take a strangely calm, nostalgic turn. Although it evoked feelings of nostalgia, it wasn’t sad. Only pensive about a time already past. The piece concluded a tempo, returning to the happy and powerful main theme. I didn’t realize how much the song reflected my mood until I was already finished playing it.

Knowing her thoughts were protected by Bella’s shield, Esme offered me her kind compliments out loud from the kitchen. “That was wonderful, Edward,” she gushed. “I have always been so fond of that piece. Please play some more, darling.” I murmured a thanks, then obliged my mother and started playing her favorite, the very song I had played for Bella the first time I brought her home to meet my family. Even though the memory was tainted by the agony and danger of the events that followed, I still looked back on it with some joy. That was the night Bella became a part of our family.

The day went on that way, calm and peaceful, everyone busy with their respective tasks. Nessie came down to join me once in the afternoon and let me hear a new composition she was working on. It was her best yet, and I told her as much. Bella came downstairs as well, listening to me play and rereading Persuasion by Jane Austen while she sat beside me on the piano bench.

Before long, it was time for us to get dressed and ready for the prom. I quickly changed into my dark brown suit. The color had been my only stipulation, the rest decided by Alice’s keen sense of fashion. Since that overcast Thursday morning—the day that had been my turn to ask questions—my favorite color had never wavered from brown. The chocolate-brown color of Bella’s human eyes was not just preserved fondly in my memories, but alive forever in Nessie, and it was beyond the bounds of possibility for me to separate such a color from the meaning of all my happiness.

After I was dressed, I tried to peek into Alice’s room to see if they were ready to go, but Alice, annoying as ever, blocked my entrance and told me to wait with Esme and Carlisle downstairs. I rolled my eyes but followed her instructions. Arguing with Alice was almost never worth it.

Carlisle was just arriving home from work right as I was coming down the stairs, and when he saw me, his eyes lit up. “Why, you look great, Edward,” he praised, setting his medical bag down on a table in the foyer. I thanked him humbly. He reached up and loosened his tie, likely more out of habit than out of a need to be more comfortable. It struck me as a very fatherly thing to do. Esme came out of the front room, greeting Carlisle with a bright smile and a quick kiss. “You’re home just in time, dear. I think the girls are almost done helping Nessie get ready.”

I snorted. At this rate, we were never going to leave the house in time. “Alice, we’ll be late!” I shouted in the direction of the stairs, knowing she could hear me perfectly.

“No, we won’t!” Alice chimed back confidently. I sighed.

Jasper and Emmett were already in their tuxedos and bounded quickly down the stairs, cameras still in hand. Rosalie was the one who joined us next, looking devastating in a burgundy mermaid dress. Emmett looked like he was about to combust. Jasper smirked at our brother’s dumbstruck expression, snapping a few pictures.

Then it was my turn to be dumbstruck as Bella started down the stairs, moving at full speed to be at my side in an instant. “Alice wouldn’t let me see Ness wearing her dress yet,” she complained, but all my attention was on her at that moment. She looked positively incredible wearing a knee-length, square-necked light azure dress, held up by thin straps with flutter sleeves and inset with a thousand little rhinestones that looked like stars. My wife could have been Selene herself, come down from the moon. I ran my fingers gently through Bella’s long, straight brown locks and pressed my palm to her cheek. And for the nth time in so many years, I was glad for the deal I’d made with Bella on our first wedding anniversary. “You look beautiful, love. Absolutely arresting,” I said honestly.

“I know,” Bella said, beaming up at me, and I laughed happily. This was our deal: whenever I told her the indisputable truth about how beautiful she looked, all she had to say in response was that she knew. In exchange, I was forbidden from spending money on gifts for her for exactly five years, and five years was such a short time for creatures such as we that the zero-gifts rule felt like it was lifted immediately. I circumvented the moratorium, anyway, by getting gifts that were for both Bella and Nessie, or both Bella and Esme…. It may not have been the fairest of contracts, but my intentions were of the purest kind. I leaned down and pulled my beautiful goddess of a wife into a deep kiss, and I felt her wide smile as her arms wrapped around my neck. We only broke away from each other when we heard Alice skipping down the stairs, dressed in a white two-piece cocktail dress that made her look like a mischievous fairy.

“Get ready, everyone!” Alice squealed, clapping her hands in anticipation. “I can’t wait to see your reactions, I know you’ll all just die.”

My sister was right. Renesmee—our only daughter, the greatest joy of our lives—stood at the top of the stairs in a gorgeous, peach pink off-shoulder gown decorated with the same little rhinestones that were on her mother’s dress and delicate leaf-patterned lace appliques, and she was a sight to die for. As she walked slowly down the stairs, one hand on the banister, Emmett and Jasper took pictures fervently, documenting the entire moment. I saw Bella press her hand to her chest, eyes soft and adoring.

“Well, how do I look?” Nessie asked when she reached the bottom of the stairs, a half-smile on her face. Her soft bronze hair fell in long, spiral waves down her shoulders, and on her neck, she still wore the necklace she’d put on this morning. She spun around in a circle, indulging the attention we lavished on her, understanding that today would not have been such a significant event for us if not for her. Esme made me, Bella, and Nessie pose for pictures by the staircase, then on the couch in the front room, and then outside on the porch. After Esme was satisfied with the pictures of the three of us, Jasper and Emmett set up a tripod and took a photo with all nine of us in the front room, our latest family portrait. When the photoshoot was done, we all filed into our vehicles to make our way to school. Bella and Nessie rode with me in the Volvo, and my siblings rode in Rosalie’s M3.

We made it to the high school just in time, and even from the car, I could already hear the booming electronic dance music and the excited prattle of hundreds of human children crowded around in the school gym. I prepared myself for the barrage of human thoughts I would have to hear tonight; the only people Bella would shield here were our family. Although Bella could shield a roomful of people from me easily, I still needed to be on the lookout for any suspicious minds when we were in public like this. The three of us met the rest of my siblings at the doors to the gym and joined the throng of high schoolers, looking like they were having the time of their lives. Little did they know how many lethal supernatural creatures had just descended upon this party. If they knew, maybe they wouldn’t be so happy.

“Are you ready for your first—but definitely not last—prom, Carlie?” Emmett asked my daughter, grinning. Nessie went by her middle name at school to be less conspicuous. At first, Bella was greatly displeased by the necessity of this precaution, but she couldn’t deny the rationale. We stood out more than enough being newcomers in a small town like this one, with our sheer number, our wealth, our beauty, and our semi-frequent ‘family trips’ to avoid the sun.

“Time to dance the night away!” Nessie said, grinning back at her uncle. She bounded away from us to meet a couple of her classmates, two girls who reminded me of Bella’s human friends, not physically, but in their manner and thoughts. Ness didn’t have many friends, and we had started to worry that her only interaction with other living beings was isolated to her family, but she rarely found her human classmates interesting, and when she did, it was because she genuinely had something in common with them.

The girl who was like Jessica, a brown-haired girl named Lindsay, shouted over the loud music at Nessie in greeting. “Oh my God, look how gorgeous you are!” Jesus, she looks like she belongs in some runway show right now. I wonder what designer this dress is by? Probably cost a million bucks…. I kind of hate her. Lindsay’s thoughts were petty and vitriolic, and I resisted the urge to march over there and shield my daughter from the bitter girl. That would have done more harm than good, so I settled for rolling my eyes and whispering in my wife’s ear about the girl’s thoughts. It was gossipy and ungentlemanly, but I had to share the burden of being powerless to protect Nessie from a fake friend.

“Oh, that girl is in my English class,” Bella said, looking unsurprised. “I knew she was mean, but I liked her Shakespeare essays. Nessie thinks she’s smart.” I scoffed and tuned in to the other girl’s thoughts—Annie, a girl with short, pink-dyed hair who made me think of Angela. She greeted Nessie with a hug, and thought, Wow, she looks like a princess. I should ask her to take a selfie with me! My mom will be super bummed if I don’t take a lot of pics tonight…. Annie pulled out a smartphone, and the three girls smiled as the little device flashed and snapped their ‘selfies.’ And then they ran to the dance floor together, jumping and laughing to the music.

I stayed with Bella in a darkened corner, and we watched Renesmee enjoying herself. Occasionally, one of my siblings would pull us away and make us dance to the upbeat music, but neither of us were particularly fond of the DJ’s infernal choices. The DJ, a baby-faced young boy called Drew who had Spanish class with me, exclusively played EDM and bastardized remix versions of classic love songs. By the ninth EDM song in a row, I finally put my proverbial foot down and crashed the DJ booth on stage to bribe him with a fifty dollar bill so he would play a song of my choosing. The boy was astonished and could barely say anything back to me, but as I walked through the crowd to reach Bella again, Johnny Ace’s “Pledging My Love” started blaring through the loudspeakers. I took Bella’s hand as we walked to the middle of the dance floor, and once we were there, I pulled her close to me and led us in a slow, intimate dance.

“This is the most romantic song I know,” Bella whispered, her head resting on my chest as we swayed slowly in a circle.

I chuckled. “Once upon a time, in a very old and decrepit truck, this song came on the radio and provided an apt soundtrack for the most romantic day of my life. Do you still remember that?”

Bella lifted her head from my chest and looked up at me, her eyebrows knitted together playfully. “My God, thirteen years and you’re still hating on the truck? I think you’ve got some issues to sort out there, honey,” she said, her beautiful lips turned up in a smirk. Then her face became more earnest. “But of course I remember. That was one of the best days of my life, too.”

Her amber eyes looked so full of love, so full of sincerity, that I felt like falling to my knees. As a mature vampire, more than a decade after her transformation, she should have no more than a few blurry recollections of her human life. But Bella felt so strongly about me, about the memories we’d made, that she vehemently held on to our past, even as each day, each minute, and each second brought us further away from it. I kissed her, always trying to let her know how precious she was to me. The song was nearly over, and I sighed. I could have stayed there dancing with her forever and never need anything more.

“Smile, please!” I heard Renesmee say, Emmett’s Polaroid camera in her hand. She snapped a photo of us. Then she turned the camera around, sandwiched herself between her mother and I, stuck her tongue out goofily, and pressed the button on the camera to take a picture again. Bella laughed.

“Where did your friends go?” Bella asked. “I was starting to think you guys would never get tired of dancing together.”

“Oh, they went back to their dates,” Nessie said nonchalantly. “So I decided to annoy Uncle Em by taking his camera.” A folky, lullaby-like acoustic song was now playing through the speakers.

“Oh—I love this song so much!” Nessie gasped. “Please dance with me, Dad?” She whispered the last word to keep any humans from hearing.

How could I refuse her? “Of course, sweetheart.”

Bella smiled and took the camera and the Polaroids from Nessie, saying something about finding Emmett and his big red bag. I led my daughter in a slow dance around the crowd, her hands resting on my shoulders.

“You and Mom looked amazing dancing together like that,” Nessie said casually, but by the look on her face, I could feel how serious the conversation was going to be. “I know the story, Dad. I know everything you went through before you could get here. And I am so happy that it worked out for you. Seeing how much you love Momma, how much she loves you… it makes me never wanna settle for anything less than that.”

My brows furrowed. “Is that why you said no to the boys who asked you to be their date tonight? Because you don’t love any of them?”

We kept swaying to the music, and Nessie chuckled. “Kind of. It’s true I said no because I don’t feel a connection to any of them, but also because I didn’t want tonight to be about some stranger hanging out around our family. I wanted it to just be us, so we could be ourselves.”

My heart swelled. Nessie always thought of our family first. That wasn’t her responsibility, and we would’ve been all too happy to pretend to be human and normal for any prom date of her choice, but she thought of us first. She was so like her mother in some ways.

“What did you mean, then? About never settling for anything less?” I asked. Something about the way she’d said it worried me, made me feel as though there were insecurities underneath her positive tone that needed to be addressed.

She took a deep breath. “I just… I realized that real love like I’ve seen with you and Mom, Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Em and Aunt Rose, Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice… it’s rare and it’s wonderful. And I think I would prefer waiting for a love where I could feel everything there is to feel rather than try to force something with anyone I’m not sure about. And I realize I could be waiting forever if I keep waiting for something perfect, but that’s the point, isn’t it? And I can’t imagine how I would ever find something like that. And that’s all right, I think.”

Renesmee’s words were full of conviction, and I started thinking about how, someday, the day would come when we would be dancing just like this—I would be in a tuxedo and she would be in a big white dress—at her wedding, for the father-daughter dance. Like her, I could not imagine yet the person she would marry, but I saw our family there. I saw Charlie desperately trying to ignore how our faces still remained unchanged. I saw Jacob, whom Renesmee considered her best friend, taking a break from managing his own auto repair shop to be there as her best man. It would be the happiest day of her life, just as how my wedding had been one of the happiest days of mine, and it saddened me that she couldn’t see herself finding that happiness one day. But I understood Nessie’s conclusions—or maybe more accurately, her fears—about not finding love. When I was still alone, I’d come to similar conclusions that the kind of happiness I saw in my family was simply not meant for me. Even when I’d found Bella, I always chose the saddest path, never daring to hope that I could have happiness with her forever.

“I admire your position about refusing to settle, Ness, because you deserve only the best. And I was just like you once. Before I found your mother, I never saw the point in pursuing relationships that I knew weren’t going to be meaningful. But you shouldn’t let yourself believe that you won’t find what you’re looking for.” I brushed a stray lock of curly bronze hair behind Nessie’s ear, hoping she could hear the honesty in what I was saying. “You know that for our kind, waiting through decades of being alone before finding who you’re meant for is more common than finding that right away….So please, don’t be so resigned. You are entirely too young to resign yourself to an eternity of being alone. It will work out, somehow,” I finished, echoing Esme’s confident words to Bella long ago when our relationship was at its very beginning.

Renesmee nodded, and I hoped my reassurances had lifted a little of the weight off her shoulders. I didn’t need to have Jasper’s gift for empathy to know that existing in both our world and the human world, not quite belonging in either, was a difficult thing to process. I didn’t know what the future held for my daughter—none of us did—but I looked forward to it with the same optimism my own parents had always had for me.

The acoustic ballad we were dancing to ended softly, and I escorted her away from the dance floor so we could rejoin our family.

“My feet kind of hurt,” Nessie complained as we found Bella sitting beside Rosalie on some folding chairs, but a smile was still bright on her face. She was having such fun tonight.

“Do you want to go home, baby?” Bella asked as Nessie dragged over another chair to sit down between Bella and Rose. Nessie rested her head on Rose’s shoulder, and Rose circled her arm around Nessie in a one-armed hug. “You’ve been dancing all night, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Yeah, I think I wanna go home,” Ness said, sounding a little sleepy.

Suddenly, Lindsay and Annie appeared out of the crowd as an upbeat pop song started playing. “Carlie, come dance with us!” one of the human girls said.

Nessie perked up. “Wait, I love this song! Just one last!” she said enthusiastically, heading back to the dance floor with her friends. I shook my head, amazed at her energy. I sat down on the seat that Nessie had just vacated.

“We’re still a go for tomorrow, right, Rose?” I asked Rose discreetly. If the weather was safe enough for us to be out, we were going into the city tomorrow so Rose could help me pick out Nessie’s very first car. She learned how to drive when she was seven but always used the cars that belonged to the rest of the family. Now that she was going to college, she needed a vehicle to be able to get around on her own. Bella was coming with us, too, to be the voice of reason. Apparently, Rose was just as likely as I was to pick a car that Bella would deem—and this was her word—‘overkill.’ Rose only nodded in response, but I saw the corners of her mouth turn up a little.

We all watched as Nessie danced to one last song with her friends, and I could pick her lovely voice out of the babble of other noise as she sang along. “There’s a mountaintop that I’m dreamin’ of…. If you need me, you know where I’ll be!”

“She’ll call us constantly once she’s in college, right?” Bella asked me in an emotional whisper, looking at our daughter jumping up and down and singing with her friends. Since she became a vampire, I rarely thought of my wife as vulnerable anymore, but she looked vulnerable now. If our bodies were still capable of shedding tears, I wondered if she would be crying. Honestly, I realized I wanted to cry as well. Renesmee was ready to create her own life, and she needed us less and less every day. Years ago, I’d thought loving Bella was the greatest accomplishment of my life, the only good thing I would ever do. I’d thought that, after a hundred years of emptiness, loving Bella as thoroughly and as completely as I did was the strongest feeling I would ever experience. But Nessie—she proved those assumptions wrong, time and again. It was an honor to have raised her, and I knew Bella felt the same.

I held Bella’s hand and kissed her temple. “I’m sure she will, love. I’m sure she will.”

After a few moments, the song was over, and Nessie was saying her goodbyes to her friends. When she had made her way back to us, she cried, “My feet are killing me! Please never let me dance all night in heels ever again.”

Bella let out a short laugh. “It’s fine, baby. You can take off your shoes and your dad will carry you to the car.”

“Oh, bless!” she exclaimed. Bella laughed again. Nessie pulled off her heels, which Bella promptly carried for her, and our daughter let me lift her up in my arms. As we walked, Bella wrapped her arm around my waist. I glanced up at the night sky and saw the pale moon untrammeled by the usual gray clouds, bathing the high school parking lot in its ghostly light. It conjured up memories of a similar evening. Another prom night—Bella’s very first. I’d carried her in my arms just like this, and I remembered how desperate I’d been, how important it was for me that she did not miss her prom, in case her future children ever asked about it. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t have an empty story for them because of me. And here we were, thirteen years later, with the miracle of our own child in my arms, Bella’s arm around me. Not even the sweetest of my dreams could compare to the reality we lived in now. I stared at Bella’s face, wondering if her thoughts had taken the same turn mine had. She pressed a hand to her throat, remembering how I’d kissed her there that night. We shared a secret smile.

When we reached the car, Bella opened the door to the backseat, and I sat Ness gently down in the middle, making sure her limbs were in comfortable positions. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, looking seconds away from succumbing to sleep. Bella got in beside her, and I sat in the driver’s seat to take us back home.

At moments like this, I still struggled to believe how I could have been given so much happiness, so much unadulterated joy that went beyond the ambit of anything I had ever dared to dream of for myself.

It felt like a reward I didn’t deserve. Maybe it was futile, looking for reasons when I knew I would get no answers. But in all my musings, the only conclusion I came to that made any kind of sense was that… it was because of Bella.

Because of Bella and her goodness, that rare kindness I saw only in her—she was why I was allowed all this happiness. And I was just the fool lucky enough to be in the range of her shining sun. Lucky enough to love her and be loved by her.

How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.

I looked back at them again, Nessie now sleeping soundly on Bella’s lap, and Bella absentmindedly twining her fingers through the mess of bronze curls fanned out on the soft fabric of her dress. “She’s dreaming,” Bella whispered. I could see Nessie’s hand on Bella’s arm, inadvertently letting Bella see the pictures she was swimming through in the land of her dreams.

I was sure that no words in any of the languages I knew could ever sufficiently reveal the feelings of peace and contentment that I felt, staring at them, the two halves of my heart, at ease in the backseat.

Bella caught me looking then, her golden eyes piercing through mine in the rearview mirror. She smiled, lowered her shields, and allowed me to hear one thought: I love you.

“I love you, too, Bella,” I whispered. I willed the past and the future that stretched out infinitely before us to give those words weight, seeming too simple and inadequate to convey the depth of what I felt.

No, I didn’t have the words that could tell Bella how grateful I was for her. For Renesmee. For our family. Perhaps I never would…. But that was fine. I had the rest of forever to try and find the words. Forever and forever and forever. I smiled and felt lighter than if my heart were not made of stone, and sped up the car to take us faster towards home.

#writing #twilight fanfiction #kellythepitiablefangirl #thethoughtsofafangirl #edwardsmidnight #magicandmyth #mafitheedwardhoe #← thanks once again to my friends for prereading this and giving me feedback u guys are the bestest #midnight sun still has me very 🥺🥺🥺 and this entire fic was just an exercise in reminding myself that e/b are living their best lives now

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asteriawrites · 4 years

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#7 - Black Swan: The Tragedy of the Creator

“A dancer dies twice — once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the more painful.” - Martha Graham.

When Black Swan by BTS released at the beginning of 2020, it forced me to reanalyze my passion for creative writing and become self-aware of that underlying fear that has followed me since I started writing back when I was only 11 years old. I’ve never been particularly good, but it has always been a method of stress relief for me, a way in which I can explore the worlds of my imagination and away from my life. It is similar for every artist whether they do it as a hobby or career — the pure ecstasy that comes from creating something beautiful, the pieces of self that every individual puts into their art, it’s for the love of creation itself and witnessing the rise of the final product in all its stages. However, every light carries an equally dark shadow, and in that shadow is that we face the dilemma of every artist: the loss of passion for creating.

Whether conscious or subconscious, it is something we deal with on different levels throughout the whole of our lives. It’s a pain greater than any other simply for the fact that after it shatters the fragile love we held, it doesn’t have the decency to pull out the shards that remain — instead it prefers to flee as we’re stuck with the task of pulling out everything we can and settling for living the rest of our lives with the pain of the pieces stabbing us in those hard to reach places.

The song expresses the intense fear ingrained into the act of creating with lines such as “Ocean with all light silenced shut / My wandering feet held in a rut / Every noise and sound's been cut” and “Sinking slowly like in a trance / Struggle but it's all ocean floor / Every moment becomes eternity / Film it now, film it now”. There’s this call back to a common motif in their music — ocean and desert — dating back to the band’s debut, however in this song they acknowledge the complex shades of grey that exist within their reach towards their dreams by putting a twist on the motif. Usually, they’d draw a connection between sea with success and desert with failure, wherein they’d call the sea their oasis after a long walk through a desert, but here they come to the realization that their struggles don’t exist separate to their success. Instead, there’s the epiphany that the sand of the desert exists right below that dazzling blue ocean, and living within their success brings a new world of unfamiliar darkness mixed with familiar sand that is the ocean floor.

The truth is that we’ll never stop feeling this way — like everything we’ve ever made is inadequate in the grand scheme of things, like we’re drowning in the fear of someday hating the thing we’ve loved the most. There’s that desperation to document that love in its purest form just so we never forget the way our hearts beat so strong in those moments and that desperation never leaves for as long as you’re creating.

Despite the desperation, the fear, and the sadness, there’s one line that completes the experience of the creator, a line that would seem out of place to those who do not intimately understand the vulnerability that one gives themself up to when they decide to dedicate their love to their passion of creating. “Nothing can devour me / I shout out with ferocity” is a huge tonal shift but not at all surprising since this is the reality of the creator — proving yourself bigger than that debilitating fear and living one more day in the warmth of your love. It’s no surprise that the line is preluded by new imagery that describes the feeling of a racing heart and standing before something that isn’t an ocean, but a forest instead. No longer is the sinking feeling that comes with the ocean, instead there is a vast forest that you continue to explore, everyday finding something new to experience despite the fears of encountering danger.

Black Swan feels so bittersweet to me. Losing passion is a pain more painful than death, but despite the fears, we continue to nurture our passions with all the love we can create. We empty ourselves into it, praying and begging that it’ll never give up on us or worse — that we give up on it.

#bts #btsarmy #music #kpop #blackswan #losing passion #tragic artist #blog

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timeforelfnonsense · 4 years

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Mistress Wit

Wyll x Criella

Rating: T

Ao3

With Patch 3 out now, I decided to make another bg3 oc to romance Wyll! Dafni will still be the main character so to speak of my bg3 writing with Criella serving as a secondary protag & member of the party in Sunshine and Starlight. She and Wyll will also be getting their own little collection with Dafni & Astarion serving a similar role! However, as my writing is pretty ship centered you wouldn't really need to read one to enjoy the other!

Prologue

Criella brought her hands above her head, fists pounding against the transparent shield that kept her snuggly trapped in the mind flayer pod. If she could just find a weak spot…

Ah-ha!

It was faint but, Criella spotted a hairline fracture in the upper right portion of the glass. Perfect. Her tail dipped into the worn leather bag strapped to her thigh seeking her tinker’s tools. If she could just find her mallet she’d be able to shatter the glass and free herself from her confines. She reached for the top of her head, pulling her goggles over her eyes. With one precise strike, the mallet made contact with the pod’s lid. What had started as a single small fracture now spread across the whole surface in a spiderweb of spits and breaks. Carefully, her fingertips traced the somatic symbol needed to cast a gust cantrip.

“Ventus!” With the command spoken a small tempest broke free of her palms sending shards of glass flying across the clearing.

Her boots hit the ground with a soft thunk, the collateral of her escape crunching beneath her feet. She scanned her surroundings nose wrinkling with repugnance. This was definitely not Waterdeep. She’d crashlanded in some sort of hinterlands located god knows where. She brought her fingertips to her temples rubbing away the tension with little circles. She needed to locate civilization and quickly. It was only a matter of time before the dangerous effects of the tadpole squirming behind her eye would manifest.

She dug around her bag until her hand found its target. A spyglass forged of brass, runes of her creation glowing across the tarnished cylinder. Pushing her googles back up, she pressed the scope to her eye looking out into the forest. Her mind tingled, the Spyglass of Clairvoyance reveling a small settlement nestled in a nearby grove. It was no city of splendor but it was a lead. The only one she had anyway. Perhaps, whoever called the grove home would be able to point her towards the nearest healer if they didn’t have one of their own. Her body ached from the top of her horns to the tip of her tail. Even if they couldn’t see to the parasite they could ease the discomfort of being crammed into a pod had caused.

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Criella sat atop a traveler’s chest, her tail flicking idle from side to side. The groves healer had just set out alongside a mercenary band just recently. Meaning her only choice was to doodled among the druids until their Master Halsin returned. She let out a huff of air, blowing away a stray strand of straight, lilac hair from her eyes. If someone were asked to rattle off a list of locations they might find Criella Wit of Waterdeep, a druid’s grove would certainly not have been among them. She’d never been one for nature’s charms. Given the choice between a bustling market or a quiet glen, Criella would have picked the crowded walkways and noisy rabble of the city to the glen every time. At least she was among kin. All around her other Tieflings mulled about weary faced as they set to packing up what little they had. Criella’s gloved fingertips tapped out an anxious rhythm on the side of the chest. Criella knew better than most that right and wrong could be terms with objective definitions. But turning out helpless refugees and children? That was wrong by every definition. She had sat in Zevlor’s quarters discussing the events that lead his people to take refuge among The Oak Father’s servants. They had come from Eturel originally- Collateral damage in the wake of post-Decent xenophobia. People who had once been treasured friends and neighbors became easy scapegoats for the suffering Elturel’s people experienced in the hells. Her grip on the chest tightened. Were it not for the black leather gloves her pointed fingernails would certainly have left a mark on its suede surface. Well, if the druids weren’t going to help she would. She pulled out a well-weathered note pad and nub of charcoal. She could adapt her design for the Protector canon with relative ease. She’d have to find a way to streamline and simplify it given her the groves appalling lack of anything metal. What she wouldn’t do for steel and iron! Perhaps their smith would have some to spare though she doubted it by the state of his forge. “What are you drawing?” a tiny sing-song voice asked. Criella glanced up from her work. A little tiefling girl of no more than 10, was staring owlishly over the edge of her notebook. Criella’s lips quirked, tuning the book so the girl could get a better look at her scribblings. “It’s a diagram of an Eldritch Canon. I’ve made hundreds of the things but today I’m working on one just for you and your friends. To keep you safe.” She explained, tapping the tip of her finger to the sketch, “It’s sort of a… a mechanical cleric! If anyone gets hurt on the road it might be able to help.” “You can make that?” The child whisperer reverently. “I can make anything.” Criella winked, “Just give time and the right tools.” “Could you teach me?” She asked, her lower lip quivering ever so slightly, “I want to be able to make anything! I want to help! I’m not good at fighting or sneaking like the others maybe I’m good at making things!” Criella let out a chime of warm laughter. The little girl’s eyes were full of wonder and optimism despite all she and her kin had endured recently. She’d too had been more interested in tomes and tinkering as a girl. While her peers were swinging sticks and imagining themselves as knights and guardsmen, little Ella would climb the tallest tree in the yard and name it Blackstaff Tower. “Well I can’t teach you how to make everything in just one day but, I can show you a few things.” Criella brought her hand to her lips, sharp teeth tugging the grove from her left hand. With a heartfelt smile she extended her hand to her would-be apprentice, “They call me Misstress Wit of Waterdeep but since we are friends, you can call me Criella.”

Wyll walked the length of the makeshift training ground. Adjusting postures and offering up every word of tender engorgement he knew. The tiefling children had been ecstatic to meet a ‘real-life hero’, bombarding him with sweet, curious questions the moment he stepped through the gate. After such a warm welcome teaching a few sparing lessons while he waited for Halsin to return, was the least he could do. These children had already witnessed more than many noble old men would in their whole lives. They should have been chasing frogs, enjoying their childhoods without fear. Not training for battles they couldn’t win. Despite the cheerless nature of his thoughts, Wyll put on his warmest, bordering on a fatherly grin. “Not bad! Not bad! Now, remember not to keep yourself so open.” He instructed demonstrating his instruction for a little boy with rusty hair, “Like this.” “Keep it up little one. You’ll be a fine warrior one day!” A lovely voice called. The gentle, golden timbre belonged to a statuesque tiefling woman. Wyll’s heart sputtered a bit when her soft silver eyes fell across his face. A dazzling smile on her rose-petal pink lips. Walking beside her was a child- Nalia, the little girl with a missing horn. He’d invited her to spar but she’d only blushed and ran off. “Wyll! I look at what I made!” Nalia shouted dragging the pretty-pink woman along behind her. When she reached the ring she pulled free a small metal gadget no bigger than her palm. The steal contraption glowed with a soft purple light. It’s slivery surface marked with an inscription: Be Brave, scrawled in infernal. “Aren’t you clever!” He said crouching down to admire her handiwork, “What is it?” “It’s an eldritch canon!” She rolled her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world The woman stifled a giggle, covering her grin with the back of her gloved hand. “Is that safe?” He asked cocking an eyebrow at the smirking beauty. “Yes! think of it as a mechanical cleric, Wyll!” Nalia said winking at her companion, “I’m going to be an artificer just like Mistress Wit!” “That’s right!” Wit nodded, “I think you’ve done enough work for today apprentice. Go on, take the rest of the day off...” As Wit trailed off a strange feeling began to unwind in Wyll's mind. The sights and smells of an unfamiliar harbor city danced across his senses. He could almost feel the sea breeze on his face. He saw a workshop so organized and meticulous it reminded him of his time with The Fist. He felt the uneven surface of cobbles stone under his feet as he tore after a thief, tears stinging at his eyes as the hooded figure mad off with the last project he and a half-drow woman had planned before she left. Lastly the memory of being confined to a pod and dragged to the hells. Wit blinked back at him dazed. Her slender nose wrinkled, her lips turned down in a worried grimace. “We should talk.”

Criella sat across from the Wyll at a shabby picnic table, poking at her gruel with a wooden spoon. The old woman had called it vegetable soup but remind her too much of the oil she used for in some of her machines to be palpable. “Not much for stew eh?” He teased taking a long sip of his bowl, “You haven’t spent much time in the wilds, have you?” “I am I that obvious?” she giggled, “I’m from Waterdeep- I’ve lived there all my life. Not much work out here in the woods for someone in my line of work.” Wyll tilted his head, bringing his chin to rest along the top of his knuckles, “Oh? And what is your line of work Wit?” He hadn’t heard of her? How strange. She was something of an arcane darling back home. If you asked someone where to inspired spellwork or magical mending. If they had any sense they would give you one answer: Wit and Wander. Well- Just Wit since Zoria had left for Neverwinter with her new wife…. “I’m many things; wizard, artificer, genius. Take your pick.” Wyll chuckled raising his tankard in approval of her assuredness, “Impressive.” “And what about you Wyll?” She said playfully, “Let me guess? You are a soldier. Mercenary? No, you are too upstanding to be a sellsword.” “They call me the Blade of the Frontiers.” He stated with a proud nod before continuing “Monster hunter. Hero. Protector of the common folk.” “The Blade of Frontiers? Now that’s a name!” She whistled, “And I thought Misstess Wit was a clever epithet! Now tell me Blade- How did you find yourself aboard the nautiloid?” Before he could respond the sound of a war horn rang out across the grove. Zevlor sprinting past them as shouting about a goblin siege at the front gate. Both adventures sprung to their feet as panic spread among the refugees. “Alright Blade.” Criella purred pulling her storm canon from the holster at her hip, “Let see if you live up to the legend.”

#bg3 oc #Wyll #elf writes #bg3 early access #Criella Wit

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jmlongworth78 · 4 years

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An Agape Feast for Easter Sunday

WELCOME

We come as different people to serve One God, who calls us to unity as the family of God.

GATHERING SONG

CALL TO THE FEAST

One: Out of darkness came light

All: And the power of God was revealed

One: in the running wave and the flowing air,

All: in the quiet earth and the shining stars.

One: Out of the dust came life;

All: And the image of God was revealed

One: in the human face and the gentle heart,

All: in the warmth of flesh and the depth of soul

One: Out of justice came freedom;

All: And the wisdom of God was revealed

One: in the need to grow and the will to love,

All: in the chance to know and the power to choose.

One: And God looked at the creation,

All: And Behold, it was very good.

SCRIPTURE: Acts 10:34-43

youtube

34Peter began to speak to [the people]: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, 35but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. 36You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ—he is Lord of all. 37That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: 38how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. 39We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; 40but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, 41not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. 42He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. 43All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”

PRAYER OF ADORATION

Reader: I will keep on thanking God

With constant words of prayer.

I will glory in the living God:

The humble will hear and be glad.

One: Let us pray.

Living God, our loving parent; you cherish your creation

and we praise you.

With earth, air, water, fire: in our element as your children,

we praise you..

With our lips, with our lives,

in all our diversity, each one made in your image,

We praise you.

Because, in Jesus, you came to share

our human lives, our sorrow and joy,

we praise you.

Because your Spirit is at work today:

encouraging, enabling, surprising us,

We praise you.

poor as we are, you give us hope:

Salt of the earth, you give us meaning and purpose

and we praise you.

All: Amen.

SCRIPTURE: Colossians 3:1-4

1If you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, 3for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. 4When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.

PRAYER OF CONFESSION

Reader: Salt is good, but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you

season it?

One: Giving God, you blessed us with saltiness,

All: But we became bland.

One: You trusted us with your Word,

All: but we did not keep it.

One: You lit a flame in our midst,

All: but we hid it under formality,

Smothered it with our fears.

One: God, in your mercy:

All: Forgive us.

(silence)

One: Forgiving God, we believe that you have called us

All: to be salt and light;

One:

that you offer us time and space and strength

All: to begin again.

(silence)

One: Giving and forgiving God,

All. We thank you.

Reader: Have salt in yourself, and be at peace with one another.

PASSING THE PEACE

We offer each other a sign of Peace.

GIVING THANKS FOR THE WEEK

People are invited to call our single words or brief phrases of thanks for something that happened during the week. A simple response may be used such as “Generous God, we thank you.”

SCRIPTURE: Matthew 28:1-10

1After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. 4For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 7Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” 8So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

SERMON

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REFLECTION

Each person at the meal is invited to share their response to the Gospel with these or similar words “I have seen dying and rising this week in...”

When all have shared, one participant prays for the things that arose in sharing.

THANKSGIVING SONG

INTRODUCTION TO SHARING THE FEAST

Reader: We are all invited to the common table to share in an Agape Feast. At this table we come as brothers and sisters in the Holy Family of God. Taste and see that God is good.

The feast can be a loaf of bread (or oatcakes, or a sweet bread) and a chalice of wine (or cider, or grape juice). The bread and the cup are passed to one another. Each person serving the individual next to him or her.

PRAYER

(at the conclusion of each one drinking and eating)

One: As we share this bread,

as we pour out this water,

we thank you, God, for our daily bread

for the food which delights and nourishes us

and for the companionship that sustains us as Franciscans.

We thank you, too, for drink

to quench our thirst

and for the Living Water

with which you surprise and enrich

and transform our lives.

We give thanks for this feast at which all

Christians can share, a foretaste of the

Holy Realm.

Amen.

LORD’S Prayer

Our Father, who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name,

thy kingdom come,

thy will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread;

and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us;

and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.

BLESSING

One: Giving God,

bless all who have gathered round this table.

May we know the fullness of your presence

at every meal and in all our sharing.

All: Amen.

CLOSING Song

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#Easter Sunday #He is Risen #Agape Feast

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kenkamishiro · 6 years

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20181116 Translation of Ishida and Takahashi’s interview with BuzzFeed Japan

It took me 3 days to translate this monster of an interview (~3.5k word count lol), but it’s finally done! My hands need a break after typing for so long...

Thank you to the interviewer Kashima Yui for asking some really great questions, and BuzzFeed JP for making this interview happen. I really enjoyed seeing Ishida and Takahashi banter back and forth, you can really tell that they’re great friends, and I’m happy to have witnessed a sliver of their relationship.

Also, I’m far from perfect, so if I’ve made a mistake or mistranslated something, please let me know.

Edit: Fixed a line from Takahashi saying, “You did it,” to “He got me.”

“I’ve always thought about quitting” - Author of Tokyo Ghoul and his sworn friend talk about their creative works and the troubles they’ve faced

Behind the scenes of Tokyo Ghoul’s final chapter, and what it means.

By Kashima Yui, BuzzFeed Staff, Japan

November 16, 2018

Over 37 million volumes of Tokyo Ghoul have been sold worldwide. During the 7 years it has taken to reach its conclusion - from the start of its serialization to July of this year - Ishida Sui has delivered an elaborately portrayed work with a profound story to the world at a tremendous speed.

This enigmatic mangaka has almost never appeared in the media, but there is a certain someone that he’s been influenced by.

That person is Takahashi Kunimitsu of österreich, who was responsible for the Tokyo Ghoul:re anime ending theme, “You of Paradise.” Ishida for some time had a phase where he would only listen to the music that Takahashi composed. “He’s the type who’ll say everything that’s on his mind,” he raves.

At the same time, Takahashi must have also been influenced in turn by Ishida, for he had stopped making music until he received a request from Ishida.

I thought that I would no longer be making music. Why am I...?

Sui-sensei lives in Fukuoka, and Takahashi-san resides in the Kanto region. How did you two first meet?

Ishida: We first met 3 years ago when I requested the opening theme “Incompetence” for the Tokyo Ghoul √A anime. I’d already received many proposals for the opening song, but I more or less shot them all down.

It was because I liked the former band the cabs that Kunimitsu-kun used to be a part of. Right around when I was drawing volume 7 of Tokyo Ghoul, I was pretty much listening to just one the cabs song, “Soldiers in February”, which might be why I’m so strongly attached to the band.

Takahashi: But by then, the cabs had already split up and I’d stopped being a musician.

Ishida: After Kunimitsu-kun took a break from being a musician, I kept an eye out on his SoundCloud (laughs).

Every now and then I’d see a new song uploaded, so I knew that he was still alive and well. Since I knew he was still making music I thought, “Couldn’t he compose music for Tokyo Ghoul too?”

I said that to the anime people about 100 times, that I wanted Takahashi Kunimitsu to make the opening. But because he couldn’t make up his mind, they turned me down 99 out of those 100 times.

Takahashi: That’s ‘cause I never got the news to begin with! Back then the manager of the office I was enrolled at suddenly said to me, “Something big’s happened.” No warning in advance.

Ishida: What do you mean I never told you, are you even hearing yourself right now? (laughs) But it really was an impossible request. Plus the fact that Kunimitsu’s band broke up and was now nonexistent.

Takahashi: I thought to myself that I’d no longer work in music, so I wasn’t willing to accept at the time.

I’d uploaded my music onto SoundCloud, but that page was just a personal space for myself rather than a place to market my music. So when I was approached about a collab I was thinking, “What are they talking about? Why me...?”

Along with the fact that I’d never read Tokyo Ghoul.

Were you scared?

Takahashi: I was terrified. It had already been 3 years since the band broke up, so I felt like I’d lost my ability to compose music. I was thinking, “What’ll happen if I can’t make it?” On top of that, that piece was on a much larger scale than anything I’d ever worked on. That made me anxious on a regular basis.

...but on the other hand, it felt like this was a sign telling me to keep playing music. I wasn’t sure if I could do it, but I thought that if I didn’t try here and now, I might not play music for the rest of my life.

I was extremely tight on schedule for “Incompetence”, the opening theme for Tokyo Ghoul √A, but at any rate I frantically worked on it in a frenzy, feeling more and more dead by the end of it. I didn’t read a single page from Tokyo Ghoul so that I wouldn’t get pulled in by it. The result...every single bad thing that had accumulated during my 3-year hiatus showed up all over the song.

Ishida: I basically like everything he composes, so when I heard the demo I thought it was pretty good. I was more than happy. But I have to admit, that song...is way too all over the place (laughs).

Takahashi: Even when I listen to it now I think it’s all over the place.

Did the two of you come to interact through the production of “Incompetence”?

Ishida: No...back then I just received the demo. After it was released, we talked about it on Skype, and that was probably our first ever conversation. After that, was it through Twitter DM or email?...I got a message from him that had an “at this time” kind of vibe, and that’s when we began talking to each other more personally.

[T/N: I’m not exactly sure what Ishida meant by “at this time”, but the word he used, “この度は” is a form of “now” that you’d use in formal/business speech, so perhaps he meant that Takahashi’s message to him felt formal.]

The extent of our conversation for several months was just exchanging texts back and forth, but one day we unexpectedly began voice chatting through Skype. And then Kunimitsu-kun declared out of nowhere, “I am light.” (laughs)

Takahashi: I was overly concerned about my own image, so I’d try to crack jokes or else I’d have a hard time making conversation.

Ishida: I thought he was acting like an extremely gloomy person because he felt like it. Back then that dark part of me was also prominent, so when I tried talking all emo I’d get told, “I’m light.” (laughs)

Takahashi: I told you, that’s just me talking a lot and making jokes.

Ishida: After that, we’d talk on Skype once every month or two. One time we talked for around 6 hours.

Takahashi: Until morning. This guy talks while he works, you know, so he can blabber on for a long time.

Ishida: Funny enough I make more progress if I have someone to talk to while I’m working.

A mangaka and a musician talking on Skype night after night

And that doesn’t reduce your ability to concentrate? Since when you’re talking over the phone there are moments where you have to think about the person you’re talking to.

Ishida: It depends on the work. There’s a term in the manga industry where you’re just moving your hands. The “usual work”, should I put it? The “usual face”, the “usual composition.” When I’m doing that kind of work, I’ll often listen to someone talk, watch TV, or listen to music.

What do you talk about?

Ishida: About creative works, among other topics. Recently we’ve been talking about death matches.

Death matches?

Ishida: A type of fiction where a group of people are forced to kill each other off, you’re guaranteed to find one in any convenience store. Because the death match is such an excellent format, it’s easy to draw and sell in any era. But if the author relies too much on that format, the story will fall apart without them even realizing it...that’s my opinion on it.

The most interesting death match is still “Battle Royale.”

Takahashi: Rigid formats will always exist in any kind of media, including in music. It’s fine if you put a story into that template for starters, that’s what a countless number of creators are aiming for.

Ishida: The format itself isn’t bad, but if you rely too much on it, it no longer becomes your own creation, and the work ends up becoming sloppy and excessive.

When you’re talking things over with each other, are you ever influenced by the other person?

Ishida: I am. Whether it’s music or manga, I realized that there are many factors that I can relate to in terms of creativity, even if I may not be an expert in those fields. When I’m talking to Kunimitsu-kun, it makes me wonder if I can connect with people working in other genres. We can have discussions without building fences between one other.

What about yourself, Takahashi-san?

Takahashi: Objectively speaking, Ishida-kun is a very successful person. In the past I would always hold feelings of inferiority towards those successful people.

But talking to him...I realized that he was a normal person. It might just be by chance that Ishida is normal, but how should I put it, we suffer in similar ways. In that sense I’ve become more open-minded and changed how I think about people running on the front lines.

...I’m a professional too, after all. Since I’m a creator, the last thing I can do is call professionals fools.

I once gave up on music. Ishida Sui has kept going.

Takahashi-san, why did you stop being a musician in the first place? I heard that just before the cabs tour you suddenly disappeared.

Takahashi: ...that’s right. I caused a lot of trouble for many people, especially the band members, so I can’t talk much about it...just that I ran away like a fool. That’s why I thought I wouldn’t be working on music anymore.

After you kept composing music in your “personal space”, you received news of a collaboration. Have your thoughts changed on this matter?

Takahashi: I suppose so. When it comes to anything concerning Ishida Sui, there are two things that have affected me the most. The first is that the act of continuing on no matter what is worth its weight in gold, and to not object to it.

Ishida: It’s a huge feat, putting things out with no regard to its shape or form. I feel it even more since I’m not working on a serialization anymore. Whoever can accomplish this is truly remarkable.

Takahashi: I’ve already given up on music once, so I’ve got some very strong feelings regarding this.

And one more...because Tokyo Ghoul really felt like it reached its conclusion, I realized that “ending things properly” and “continuing” can both be considered equally wonderful.

What do you mean by “ending things properly”?

Takahashi: You know what Ishida-kun said when we first met? “I’d like to end Tokyo Ghoul by turning it into a complete train wreck.”

Ishida: You said you’d demolish it for me (laughs).

Takahashi: But when I actually read the final chapter, it had a pretty clean ending. "He got me...” I thought.

I’ve always thought about quitting

Takahashi: I find it frustrating that I was given the right answer without feeling like I earned it. Here I am strolling on the sidewalk, and before I know it Ishida-kun’s racing down the road...that’s what it feels like. That’s what I was heavily influenced by when I was making “You of Paradise.” How valuable “ending things properly” can be.

You’ve already mentioned how important it is to keep on going, but Sui-sensei, you continued to work on your serialization for 7 years. Did you ever think about quitting?

Ishida: All the time. I underestimated how taxing manga and magazine serializations were.

Why is that?

Ishida: I wonder...I think it was only after I realized that I could rely on other people that I really began to enjoy making manga. The conclusions I came to on my own were mostly self-contained, and I no longer felt that it was fun drawing manga alone.

But I found another way after asking around. And it only took about 6.5 years (laughs).

Have you been worrying on your own until then?

Ishida: This is a personal problem, but I didn’t want to tell anyone about how the story would unfold. I also considered the editor-in-charge as a reader, so I wanted to keep it a secret. In that case, what am I supposed to discuss with the editor? I can only talk about superficial things...that’s what I did for the longest time.

And though I’d been so eager to stop, I said that I wanted to keep going a bit longer during the last half-year...which was why I kept dropping off the manuscripts late every week. It seems that the printers always had to wait until the very last minute for my manuscripts.

The final chapter of Tokyo Ghoul was meant to be a train wreck

Ishida: I’d originally planned to finish it December of last year, but I said, “I’m sorry, I need another 3 months.” I increased the extension bit by bit, and I ended up lengthening it by about 6 months.

When I told the editorial department that I’d be done in 10 chapters, they prepared the cover page of the final chapter’s issue. But right before the deadline I told them, “I’m sorry again, I need 3 more chapters…”

Takahashi: I was reading that issue of Young Jump where it was supposed to end in 10 chapters. I was completely deceived (laughs). I saw the cover and it said, “Tokyo Ghoul climax.” So I thought, “Is it finally over?” but when I read it it just kept going on.

Ishida: When I told them I needed 3 more chapters, it was too late by then. Most likely every department was under chaos then, but I hope you can sympathize with the Young Jump editorial department.

Is that the reason why Tokyo Ghoul was on the back cover of the final chapter’s issue?

Ishida: It is. Thanks to the kindness of the editor-in-chief, he suggested that Tokyo Ghoul could get a cover if it was on the back.

I often see final chapters on the front cover, but it’s kinda cool to have it on the back instead. It might even be better to have the reader see Kaneki and Touka on the back so they can read it and think, “It’s really over.” It wasn’t what I was necessarily aiming for, but thanks to the editor-in-chief’s stylistic sense it made that back cover possible.

The final chapter went from a train wreck to a happy ending. Did you have a chance to change your mind?

Ishida: Probably...once I was aware that the ending was approaching, I lost all meaning of value behind a train wreck ending. At first I thought, “Let’s shock everyone and make myself disappear,” but then I realized that I was misconstruing that as cool.

Nonetheless...the endgame had some parts that were definitely messy, but I changed them to be positive. I’m fine with it not being good, as long as it’s got some definitive answers. That happy ending is also a train wreck in its own way (laughs). I thought that that kind of train wreck would be more interesting.

Takahashi: That ending completely shocked me. “He got me,” I uttered.

Communicating, continuing, ending

How did you feel when you were asked to collaborate with Tokyo Ghoul once again for “You of Paradise”?

Takahashi: As we got to know each other, we’d inevitably talk about the anime. I couldn’t refuse when I was asked to compose the ending song when I’d been watching the course of the final chapter from up close, and been utterly deceived and shocked by it.

...but I was scared.

Why did you think that, even though you achieved it last time without any major hiccups?

Ishida: I think it’s that feeling of, “did I strike gold?” There’s a lot of luck involved when you’re extracting gold from a lode. He was able to do this naturally during the cabs era.

Takahashi: I could compose music almost as if those lodes were exposed to the open.

Ishida: When I asked him to do “You of Paradise”, I got the feeling that he was thinking, “Where can I dig from...” I think he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to dig up that lode. Though I thought he was going to be fine.

How do you think it turned out when you tried composing it with that fear in mind? Were there any changes, compared it to “Incompetence”?

Takahashi: “Incompetence” being all over the place was because I was all over the place.

Up until now I’ve been making music and thinking that I can’t convey my ideas well. When I was in the band, I’d never really been able to express my thoughts so I gave up. I thought it was an impossible feat for me.

“Incompetence” was a song that I tossed out into the world, without any hope that I’d be able to express such a warped feeling. For a while after that song was released, I hardly ever listened to it.

But Ishida-kun and my friends who are still playing in bands...I’ve watched them keep on going or reach a proper end no matter how many years passed by. They’re doing it right.

I came to the conclusion that it was dishonest of me to give up on expressing myself from the beginning when the people around me have been working hard and doing their best.

Sui-sensei, have you ever thought that you couldn’t convey something when drawing your manga?

Ishida: I definitely have.

Takahashi: Sounds like you’ve given up.

Ishida: Maybe, since I have to draw every week. If I don’t follow a set routine then I become overwhelmed very quickly. This means that I’m working on one panel at a time, but I can’t convey my ideas well that way.

And it’s not the reader’s fault, it might just be that I’m not good enough. I couldn’t figure it out no matter how much I thought about it, so I gave up on the issue of not being able to properly convey my ideas.

To be honest, I don’t really feel anything from people reading my stuff. I can’t physically see you reading the manga, and I can’t gauge how you really feel about it by asking how many copies you have. It’s to the point where sometimes I’ll notice someone reading it at a convenience store and think, “I finally found someone.” It makes me think that being a mangaka is a lonely profession.

Takahashi-san, did you compose “You of Paradise” after reading the final chapter this time?

Takahashi: I read it this time (laughs). At first, the song I was using for the ending before “You of Paradise” was some ridiculously abstruse piece. After I sent it to Ishida-kun, he told me, “To be honest, it’s got the things that I want to express and it’s packed with lots of stuff, but I want you to compose a really simple piece that anyone can listen to and enjoy.” And so it got rebuilt and that’s the song you see today (laughs).

First, face what you’re trying to convey. Don’t whine about how you can’t convey your ideas if you haven’t tried in the first place. That’s what I thought. If you start thinking, “I can’t do it in the first place,” you’re running away. Take that first step. It feels like I can now pursue universal virtues.

Ishida: It’s a challenge, huh.

Takahashi: I’ve thought about just giving up in defeat. When I first saw that the final chapter that Ishida-kun wanted to make a wreck of had turned into a beautiful and happy ending...he seemed to have chosen to end it by having it speak to people universally. I was shocked by it, and the desire to go along with it bloomed in me. If Tokyo Ghoul can have that kind of ending, then I can make the music to match it.

You seem to have changed a lot as a person over the last 3 years.

Takahashi: I had a musical spirit who would always whisper in my ear, “You’re that kind of human being, aren’t you?” When it disappeared after having stuck around since my band days, I kept my distance from it. But I feel refreshed now since I think I should finally put an end to my issues.

Ishida: “You of Paradise” is the only song appropriate for that kind of ending. No other song can work.

After a 2 hour interview, Ishida and Takahashi vanished into the streets of Shibuya to go watch a live performance of cinema staff, to which Iida Mizuki, the guest vocalist for “You of Paradise”, is a member of.

As an aside, the name of the cabs live tour that was never realized after Takahashi suddenly disappeared, was called “You of Paradise.”

END OF THE INTERVIEW.

Translator notes:

I think I need to clarify on what I mean by ‘train wreck’. When I say it, it refers to something in ruins, complete shambles, destroyed. Essentially a tragic ending, akin to chapter 143 of :re, so Ishida was thinking about having TG end in tragedy. I chose to use the term ‘train wreck’ and ‘in ruins’ over ‘tragic’ because they have slightly different connotations (台無し vs. 悲劇). It’s the reason why I would consider TG chapter 140 (when Kaneki ‘dies’ to Arima in V14, looks like an end to a classic tragedy play) as tragic ( 悲劇) and TG:re chapter 143 (when Kaneki loses to Juuzou and Hanbee and shit hits the fan for everyone) as 台無し (train wreck/ruined).

#Tokyo Ghoul #Tokyo Ghoul:re #Ishida Sui #Takahashi Kunimitsu #osterreich #Interview #Translations #my translations

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leapintothevoid · 5 years

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Beautiful and Absurd

“First there was only darkness, (or only light, which is the same thing.) Then emerged beauty, and at last, absurdity.“

The earliest representation in western culture of the intrinsic lack of meaning in life is the Ancient Greek myth of Sisyphus, who is condemned to push a boulder up a mountain until it gets to the summit, but where, upon reaching the summit, the boulder rolls down the other side, all the way to the bottom. Sisyphus then has to push the boulder back up, and repeat the cycle, ad infinitum. The absurdity is revealed in Sisyphus’s knowing that the boulder he’s grunting and sweating to push uphill will fall back down. Yet being mortal, he is condemned to forever perpetuate that futile cycle.

The main idea of the absurdity of the human condition is that there is little to no hope of a sensible reconciliation with man’s desire for significance and meaning in a cold, indifferent, dark universe. All that we know, have witnessed, all that we can ever hope, and love and desire, is all contained in a tiny disappearingly small speck in a remote corner of an endlessly vast universe. A universe whose 99% is invisible, nay, incomprehensible to us – dark matter, dark energy (who really knows what that is?), where of the remaining 1 percent that is observable, we are one tiny planet, in one ordinary solar system in one middling galaxy among hundreds of billions. What is the point of the sheer excess of the universe if our lives have any meaning or significance.

And on this tiny, disappearingly small planet, the life of one being counts for how impossibly little? How many people have lived and died before us. How many continue to breathe, dream, hope, despair without the knowing of anyone other than maybe a handful? How many hopes and fears and dreams and dreads rise and fall each moment around the world. And for each those feelings are the very center of the universe, yet how can all of those be simultaneously true? The absurdity lies in the fact that for me, my suffering and happiness are paramount. Yet I know these are evanescent and that beyond me there is no case for their cardinality.

Take the example of my cousins who, according to custom, were prematurely married off to strangers. Many of them held great promise and shone with brilliance when I knew them as my sisters. Yet all but one of those marriages ended up in spectacular disasters, with neither husband nor wife happy. And what of their children, who were then deprived of a happy upbringing conducive to the cultivation of a fully human existence. What fault is it of theirs that they were brought up in such dysfunctional homes. Are they not forever handicapped by the thoughtlessness of previous generations?

Not that those children’s grandparents had nefarious intentions. Far from it. But in the words of Hannah Arendt, these evils were engendered purely from sheer thoughtlessness. What she refers to as the “banality of evil” is manifest day in and day out in the countless tragedies that unfold all around us. From the lament of a mother mourning the betrayal of her newly married son who now has an allegiance to his wife, to the wails of a Honduran or Syrian refugee who has had to witness his parents and siblings murdered by rebels, and has to undertake a treacherous journey across harsh and hostile lands and seas in the faint hope of something better. Or the tears of one of our animal brethren as they witness the daily holocausts of their kind, all in order to meet the endless appetite of their dominator, gluttonous man. The appalling amount of suffering in the world suggests either the utter lack of order in the universe, or else an order that is hostile to those who can feel or think. How does that make any sense?

We human beings, who in our ability to abstract and imagine have been able to unveil countless secrets of the cosmos, certainly can presume to intuit what is rational and sensible. So it cannot be the case that the universe makes sense and it is only our perception that fails to see it. Rather it is in fact our very perception, which enables us to perceive beauty and order and make sense of things, that illuminates the cruel and ultimately absurd condition of being human.

Hegel’s belief that history made sense was, Camus argues, refuted by the history of the 20th century, with its holocausts and untold millions lost to utter insanity. The last century exposed the bankruptcy of the notions of social utopias, whether it was Nazism – the natural evolution of a master race that would lord over all mankind and establish a perfect and just society; or fascism – that a powerful state organized along nationalist motives could create the ideal conditions for individuals and organizations to thrive; or communism- that the abolition of private property and the creation of an undifferentiated collective, a society of ants, as it were. The history of the 20the century exposed the utter and calamitous failures of all these fantasies, despite our utmost belief in them at the time. Today we have a similar faith in the attainment of a technological utopia, where artificial intelligence and big data and machine learning and algorithms will solve the human riddle and deliver us from the torments of history. I believe that just like the last century exposed the bankruptcy of social utopias, this century will expose the utter bankruptcy of these imagined technological utopias.

Meanwhile we continue as a species to insanely drive towards a mutual annihilation of our own life worlds and all that is beautiful around us. We exalt our own resourcefulness, and turn a dangerously blind eye to history by believing that we- this generation- will be the exception. We will defy history and be the heirs to that technological utopia, where all our stupid whims can be satisfied indefinitely, and none of the incredibly fragile and complex networks of dependencies that support us will degrade or diminish. That we can go on plundering, polluting, and pillaging the earth for our insane reasons, and “everything is gonna be okay” This is the absurdity. We know what we need to do, yet seem powerless to do it in the face of the forces our thoughtlessness have already set in motion.

Albert Camus’ famous Le Mythe de Sisyphe is a meditation on this very canonical myth, where he concludes that affirming the absurdity of life, defiantly finding meaning in our personal experiences, and countering the absurd with the beautiful is the only philosophically honest answer to the irrefutable absurdity of life.

I for one, subscribe to Camus on this. As you know I am passionate about beauty in all its various forms, whether it’s a beautiful song, a majestic oak tree, a pastel sunset, a glorious Federer backhand, or an intelligent conversation between two friends. These are the things which in my view shine like candles in the cold, dark, universe. And as the old adage goes, ‘tis better to light just one little candle than to stumble in the dark.��

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sneek-m · 6 years

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Retro Future: A Year in Perfume

Rather than write a blurb about Future Pop, I decided to write about Perfume’s entire 2018 because I can never stick to something short when it comes to my favorite pop group. This post is also available on Medium.

Perfume observed quite a few anniversaries between its fourth and fifth albums, LEVEL 3 and Cosmic Explorer, respectively, so I assumed the group would do the same this year and commemorate a decade since the release of its debut full-length, GAME. But not a peep came from Kashiyuka, Nocchi or A-chan about the album when the release date came around in 2018. The three seemed to be interested instead more in what lies ahead, revealing the title of the new album as Future Pop.

The promotions for music leading up to what would become Cosmic Explorer really worked the anniversary angle. The year before the album, the trio premiered its world-tour documentary We Are Perfume in conjunction with Perfume’s 15th year together as a group. Kashiyuka, Nocchi and A-chan talked up the retrospective qualities behind the movie’s tie-up single “Star Train” during TV interviews, and they made sure to point out how the lyrics speaks as though Yasutaka Nakata is congratulating them after working as their producer for more than a decade.

The Future Pop period, however, had Perfume explore its next potential directions. Last summer’s single “If You Wanna” attempted to introduce future bass not only to the group’s own music but also the Japanese mainstream. This spring’s “Mugen Mirai” refined those experiments, and the members continued to act as a spokesperson to explain the subgenre to the masses. But while Perfume tried its best to stay ahead of the curve, the group also spent much of 2018 revisiting its past successes as inspiration for its current work.

Perfume’s 2018 started with a live tour for its fan club, P.T.A., which coincidentally turned 10 this year. The group has been more than generous when it comes to fan service: for its 15-year anniversary tour, the three incorporated a dice-rolling system to decide its set list with possible choices full of deep cuts. For this year’s fan-club show, the trio built its set based on fan votes. And which track won the number-one spot on that 10-song set? “The Best Thing,” a non-single from its second album, Triangle.

From GAME album track “Take Me Take Me” to “Perfect Star, Perfect Style” included in the 2005 best-of collection, the P.T.A. show featured even deeper cuts released before “The Best Thing.” But more than acknowledgment of long-forgotten favorites, seeing Perfume bring back choreography that hasn’t been performed in almost 10 years seemed like one rare experience. I have yet to see clips other than “The Best Thing” from the show, but reading about the group revisiting old dances has been exciting material in itself.

Watching Kashiyuka, Nocchi and A-chan interact with old material was also the highlight of this spring’s Reframe concert in collaboration with NHK. As the title suggests, Perfume brought back past tracks from various parts of its catalogs in new, reconsidered contexts. Initially a throwaway B-side tied in with a Panasonic ad, “Display” was rebooted as the opening track introducing the show’s mission statement. “With a new, fresh experience,” began the EDM track, fitting this new environment far better than the original.

Reframe also included “Secret Secret,” one of the singles from GAME. After witnessing grand, sweeping choreography in Perfume’s dances for its recent singles such as “Flash” or “Mugen Mirai,” it was intriguing to watch the three revisit more meticulous movements favored during its earlier years. As Kashiyuka, Nocchi and A-chan packed in so many micro gestures throughout the chorus of “Secret Secret,” it showed how far they’ve come as performers. They no longer need to establish themselves so much on stage nor do they have to constantly entertain to make the music more palatable to new ears.

As much as Reframe gave a spotlight on how much has changed, it also dedicated space to show what remains the same. While Perfume’s electro-pop production has been a huge draw of the group since the very beginning, the concert spent a part of its set connecting recurring lyrics and themes in the music. The extended outro section of “Secret Secret” (remixed by producer Seiho) stitched together fragments of Kashiyuka, Nocchi and A-chan’s voices reciting words like “anata,” (you) “boku,” (me) “omoi,” (feelings) and “hikari” (light) culled from a few dozen songs from its catalog.

Out of all of the highlighted lyrics, “Koi” (love) is perhaps the most central topic that carries on in the music to this day. For all that Perfume talked up about its future-bass-inspired production, “Mugen Mirai” lyrically concerns a classic theme of newfound emotions which also inspires the group’s breakout single “Polyrhythm.” The title track to Future Pop further works in a similar vein, capturing the spark of discovery and a first-time encounter. The three marvel at the magic of technology, and their fascination speaks to the song’s inspired EDM production as well.

The wide-eyed wonder of Kashiyuka, Nocchi and A-chan towards their environment in “Future Pop” recalls the tone of GAME, where they, too, were being introduced to a new sound, setting, and series of experiences. Echoes of their past glories can be heard elsewhere in Future Pop. “Fusion” stands tall as the updated version of past mostly-instrumental anthems such as “Edge” or “Story.” The infinitely ascending “Tenkuu” works a chorus with an elongated cadence that resembles the chorus of “GAME.” The titular hook of “Chorairin” revives Nakata’s knack for writing in made-up phrases — think creations for Kyary Pamyu Pamyu but also tsundere-ation in “Puppy Love” — favoring purely its sound over meaning.

However, Perfume doesn’t pretend as though it can recapture its youth so easily in Future Pop. The members’ voices sings more in a worn-out sigh in “Let Me Know,” tapping into a prevailing uncertainty in settling down in a new environment — a recurring worry for Perfume since at least “Computer City” in 2005. In a self-referential album such as Future Pop, Kashiyuka, Nocchi and A-chan’s words sound as though they’re asking their former selves for advice. As they hand down a key to what looks like kid versions of the members in the music video, they provide enough materials in this single alone to signal their transition into an older guard.

Made up of a thump, a snap and a loop of a guitar pluck as its base, “Let Me Know” is one the most contemporary-sounding songs in Future Pop. The other singles, too, depart from the idea of classic Perfume as heard in a song like “Chorairin.” “Tokyo Girl” bridges American EDM to the works of Perfume, and “Everyday” responds to a post-Chainsmokers pop landscape. But if Perfume sounding like other producers is the future Nakata hopes to present in Future Pop, it’s a rather bizarre conclusion to reach after holding on to the pop wonders of GAME 10 years ago.

That said, it’s a realistic snapshot of the present, where electronic pop music has finally caught up with Nakata to the point he is now essentially referencing versions of himself. Future Pop, then, is an echo of what he has always done, and same could be said about the rest of Perfume’s ventures this year as the group reworked, fine-tuned and re-introduced a once-forward-thinking vision of its now-storied past. Rather than predict the future, that album title announces the arrival of it. Everyone involved can say with confidence, after 10 years from the debut album, that a time where this type of pop is accepted as the present might be finally here.

#Perfume

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sanketcommunications · 3 years

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5 Times Social Media Campaigns that helped in Marketing Movies

Do you remember the time when people were unaware of how movies were being made, there was not much buzz around it and people just popped into the nearest cinema halls to watch a film in the theatres? We are way past those days now.

Movies, if we may say, are now similar to any other product that needs to be presented to the audience to entice them. Without a doubt, social media has come to play a huge role here. It is in fact, become one of the strongest tools that enable filmmakers to reach audiences before the film is released and start conversations around it - in other words, ‘hyping’ up the film in advance.

Here are 5 social media campaigns for movies that won hearts -

PadmanChallenge

Padman, a film about women’s menstrual hygiene in rural areas, aimed to diminish the taboo around this issue and it did just that. The film’s social media campaign called the #PadmanChallenge featured top celebrities from the B-town posting images with sanitary napkins on their social media accounts. The leading trend inspired many users to follow creating the much-applauded hype.

LipstickRebellion

This hashtag was started for the promotion of Lipstick Under My Burkha, a Balaji Motion film. The film fraternity and netizens took to this challenge by portraying lipstick on their middle finger in order to recreate the movie poster. Conversations around gender bias were highlighted by the campaign and played a significant role in keeping the film in the public eye as it already faced delays in getting the green light from the censor board.

BeatPeBooty

Flying Jatt is one such creation of Bollywood that could not make much impact through its film but created ample buzz through its social media campaign. Director & Choreographer, Remo D’souza posted a short clip of the hook step of the song Beat Pe Booty. The trend was followed by famous stars like Varun Dhawan and Sonakshi Sinha apart from the whole social media community which shaked a leg to the song.

Social media campaigning for films is not just a thing for Bollywood. Famous Hollywood films have also turned to this marketing tactic to create the much-needed stir.

Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows Part 2

For a film that was released back in 2011, it was one of the first movies to make a social media account on Facebook, Twitter and YouTube to keep its followers and fans updated about the film's release. From the Premiere, Behind the Scenes and various clippings, viewers even got to engage in live events. The movie saw a huge 29 million following base with this successfully executed campaign.

The Dark Knight

The second edition of The Dark Knight, saw Heath Ledger’s Joker making headlines with his exemplary portrayal of the villain. The ‘Why So Serious’ campaign also shot up the movie’s popularity as the famous dialogue was effectively used in marketing collectables, puzzles, and several other merchandise. It was a 360 degree integrated campaign so a number of live events and amazing user-generated content were also witnessed.

Have you switched to social media yet?

From the above films, it is pretty clear how a good social media campaign can make all the difference in the marketing of your brand, product or service. If you want to reach out to more people and in the right way, connect with Sanket Communications, Eastern India's best Social Media Marketing Agency. Take the first step to put your brand on the path of success and we will do the rest.

#socialmediamarketing #socialmediadagency #socialmedia #social media agency in odisha #socialmedia optimization

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cosmic-elementalist · 6 years

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I. The Magus

The Juggler

The Lord of Illusion

The Wisdom, the Will, the Word, the Logos by whom the worlds were created.

Being the unexpected, he unsettles any established idea.

Being creative, he has no conscience.

Archetypes:

Unconscious Will

Messenger of the Gods

Law of Necessity or Chance

Fluidic Basis of All Transmission of Activity

Continuous Creation

Action in All Forms and Phases

Interpretation is the root of misinterpretation

Fulfillment of Potential

Duality

Symbols:

Tree of Life: Mercury is the Path leading from Kether (the Crown) to Binah (Understanding), thus he is the messenger of the gods, the Word of creation whose speech is Silence.

Second emanation from the Crown; adult form of the Fool, the Unity. It is the nature of these ideas to flow one into another.

The Will: The Son, the manifestation in act of the idea of the Father

The Word: Gospel of st. John: in the beginning was the word; and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

The law of reason or of necessity or chance, which is the secret meaning of the Word (the factors, seemingly out of our control - be they subconscious or external - which influence action and come before logical decision)

Medieval Deck: 'Le Bâtleur', the Bearer of the Baton (energy sent forth)

One arm points up, the other down. As above, so below.

Wand with a knob at both ends reflecting dual polarity of electricity, but also the hallowed wand of Prometheus which brings down fire from Heaven.

"With the Wand createth He.

With the Cup preserveth He.

With the Daggee destroyeth He.

With the Coin redreemeth He."

Liber Magi vv. 7-10

Duality: truth and falsehood, wisdom and folly

Hanuman: flying monkey god of Hindu mythology.

Some stories tell him as an incarnation of Shiva, others his son.

Son of the wind.

Prankster as a child

Epitome of wisdom.

Rama's messenger.

Hanuman Chalisa (translated): monkey god and devotee of Rama, grant us the power of higher life-force (prana) that elevates the mind and increases our devotion.

Tahuti or Thoth: Head of the ibis; concentration (meditative spirit, possibly reference to the secret of the Aeon of Osiris; that male intervention is necessary for having children)

Bears a phoenix wand (resurrection through the generative process; multiple incarnations) and Ankh (breath of life)

Alternatively: Style and Papyrus (transmits words of the gods and records their acts)

It was seen from very early times that the use of speech or writing meant the introduction of ambiguity at best, and falsehood at worst; Thoth was therefore followed by an Ape (Cynocephalus, a sacred Egyptian baboon with the face of a dog) whose business was to distort the Word of God; to mock, to simulate, and to decieve.

Other myths suggest that Thoth created himself through the power of language.

Shapeshifter: could turn into a babboon.

The Ogdoad were created from his song.

Thought to have invented writing, medicine, magic, and the Egyptian's civil and religious practices (shared music with Hathor)

Recorded the verdict of the dead; He Who Balances

Voice of Ra

Author of Every Work on Every Branch of Knowledge, Both Human and Divine

The One Who Made Calculations Concerning the Heavens, the Stars, and the Earth.

Linked to creation of calendar

Said to be the husband or father of Seshat, an ancient goddess of wisdom. He absorbed most of Seshat's roles, and became seen as his female aspect (not in Hermopolis)

Overcame the curse of Ra, allowing Nut to give birth to her five children (a myth regarding a change of calendar), with his skill at games.

Astrological Mercury: Planet of connections; everything that links and conveys; synchronicity; the magical crossroads at which the observer stands to see the similarity of meaning in the converging strands of various causes and effects.

Meeting place of Mind and Matter; logic, wit, and reason are brought into play.

The ancestor of every action is thought, and how we say something is often more important than why we say it.

Words trigger attitudes and set up resonances up resonances of their own, continuing to do their work even when the attention is elsewhere.

Bridge between the self and the world.

Shows how one can 'hijack' people, places, and situations to our best advantage - the way one can go about getting their way.

Hermes: Messenger for Zeus, and his son by Maia of the Pleiadies, and guide to the underworld.

Trickster Child.

God of language, writing, travellers, thieves and cunning, herdsmen, teaching, athletics, astrology and astronomy.

Carried herald's wand Greek 'kerykeion', Latin 'caduceus'

Hermes Trismegistus: composite of Thoth and Hermes.

Origin of Hermetic texts

Inventor of language, guide of the dead, son and messenger of God.

Said to have written the book of Thoth, 'Hermetic' text relating to sacred knowledge of the gods.

Caduceus: contains a complete symbol of the Gnosis.

Winged sun (phallus) = joy of life on all planes from the lowest to the highest.

Serpents = active and passive = Eagle and Lion

Unites Microcosm and Macrocosm, and the symbol of the Magical operation which accomplishes this.

Life itself, and is of universal application.

Wings added in 2nd century CE, but did not become popular until 15th century.

Not to be confused with staff of Asklepios (one snake on a wooden staff), which is a symbol of healers.

Loki: Originally a chaotic neutral symbol, was changed to an evil chaotic one by Christian invaders.

Shapeshifter. Androgyne (takes on both male and female forms/roles). Magician.

Trickster; beyond concepts of “good” and “evil”. Works his will at all costs.

Pre-viking myths point to an earlier version of Loki as a creator god. The Poetic Edda also references Odin, Lodur (associated with Loki), and Hoenir as those who gave life to the first humans, with Lodur providing them with Life Fire.

Eleggua: (an article on misinterpretations of this diety) God of the roads and of liminal spaces.

In Santeria, is the most important of the Orisha. Without his blessing, nothing can proceed. Allows prayers to reach the Orisha. Facilitates divination.

The first to test our integrity and our word. “Because of this quality many followers of Santeria consider Elegba to be a trickster or a troublemaker. At our church we prefer to think of him as the great experimenter, always testing humanity to see what will happen next.”

In the Vision of the Universal Mercury, Hermes is seen descending upon the sea, which refers to Mary. (The path of Beth on the Tree of Life shows him descending from Kether, the Crown, upon Binah, the Great Sea)

To continue the identification, compare Christ's descent into hell with the function of Hermes as guide of the dead.

It may be noted here that Mercury and Venus are the planets between us and the Sun, as if the son and mother were mediators between the Earth and the father.

3 days for Mercury to become visible after separating from the orb of the sun, compared to Christ's resurrection after 3 days

The Lord of Illusion: Vi Veri Vniversum Vivus Vici = By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe

Universal Solvent: water & blood. sperm & amniotic fluid & menstrual blood

Alkahest: hypothetical universal solvent. Paracelcius' philosophers's Stone. Dissolve anything into it's elements.

Sal alkali: caustic potash in alcohol. Caustic lime, alcohol, and carbonate of potash.

Azoth: started as hypothetical universal solvent, later became term for element Mercury.

Symbol was caduceus

Name is medieval Latin, an alteration of Azoc, derived from Arabic al-zā'būq, "the mercury"

As the Universal Life Force, the Azoth is the animating energy of the body and the inspiration and enthusiasm that move the mind.

"light of nature", or "mind of God"

Philosopher's Stone: Ignis et Azoth fibi sufficiunt

Azoth is related to Ain Soph

“Azoth, or Universal Medicine, is, for the soul, supreme reason and absolute justice; for the mind, it is mathematical and practical truth; for the body it´s the quintessence, which is a combination of gold and light. In the spiritual world, it is the First Matter of the Great Work, the source of the enthusiasm and activity of the alchemist. In the mental world, it is intelligence and industry. In the material world, it is physical labor.

Sulfur, Murcury, and Salt, which, volatized and fixed alternatively, compose the Azoth of the sages. Sulfur corresponds to Fire, Mercury to Air and Water, Salt to Earth.” - Eliphas Levi, Transcendental Magic

Believed by Aleister Crowley to represent a unity of beginnings and endings by tying together the first and last letters of ancient alphabets (A, Aleph & Alpha) (Z, final in Latin) (O, final in Greek) (Th, final in Hebrew). Universal synthesis of opposites as a ´cancellation’ (i.e. solvent) or cohesion (i.e. medicine)

Schamayin: “(hebrew for ‘heaven’) who is Androgyne, who is Divine Fiery Water, the first outflow of the Word of God, the flaming river pouring from the presence of the eternal mind.

Universal Mercury or Azoth - the measureless spirit of life.

This original spiritual fiery water comes through Edem (”vapor” in Hebrew) and pours itself into the four main rivers of the four Elements.

In this Edem (vaporous essence or mist) is the first, or spiritual Earth, the incomprehensible and intangible dust out of which God formed Afam Kadmom, the spiritual body of man” - Manly P. Hall, The Secret Teachings of All Ages

Divinatory Interpretations:

Skill, wisdom, adroitness, elasticity, craft, cunning, deceit, theft.

Sometimes occult wisdom or power, sometimes a quick impulse, a “brain-wave”.

It may imply messages, business transactions, the interference of learning or intelligence with the matter in hand.

#magick #witch #witchblr #witchcraft #witches of tumblr #pagan community #magical theory #magic theory #magic community #tarot #toth tarot #tarot community

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trackmag · 6 years

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Colour And Narrative

The Human Eye has the capacity to recognize, and tell apart over a million different colours, yet language has failed to capture more than a handful in comparison. In Film, one was so desperate to include colour from the start of its creation, that there were numerous filmmakers around 1895 and 1950 that hand coloured each individual frame, as seen in the famous example by the Lumière Brothers and their Serpentine Dance from 1899. There was also a technique called ‘tinting’ which would allow filmmakers to tint the entire roll of Film, or larger sections of it in a colour of their choosing to deliberately shift or exaggerate the narrative of their stories.

With Digital Film a new world of opportunity opened for us as filmmakers and consumers. Every hue, luminance and saturation became available to us.

Directors like the Lumière Brothers were, or Wes Anderson is, have been fully aware of the fact that colour always produces a psychological reaction in us viewers. Historically we have gained knowledge of different associations to colour which, depending on the cultural background can vary, the sentimental knowledge however seems to be fairly accurate throughout all human beings.

Red for instance is globally associated with Fire and Blood. Therefore, also a symbol of warmth, passion and love but also aggression and destruction. These associations can be a striking tool to further elevate, or shape the narrative of a film.

Another great aspect or talent of colour and colour schemes is, that when used correctly, it results in cohesiveness. This is something we could all witness with the release of Lykke Li`s latest full length album called ‘So Sad So Sexy’. All three of the so far released Music Videos share a very similar colour scheme. This analysis deals with how the colours have been utilized in Lykke`s new releases, especially in the video for ‘Hard Rain’.

What we have established before, is that certain colours are chosen to be read and understood in certain ways. However, these previously mentioned associations (red = fire, blood, love) are not to be read as a clear set of rules to follow. It is less important to think of these colours as fixed expressions synonymous to certain adjectives but nonetheless important to pay attention to them, in order to find their specific place and meaning in a film. There have been decisions made on why, and where what colour appears. This is reason enough for us as viewers to stay alert and find the subjects which are connected to the colours. If they are actual protagonists which keep and hold a certain colour, or maybe a feeling which is visually expressed through colour.

Hard Rain

Hard Rain has many visually compelling tools. What I find impressive about this project SoSadSoSexy by Lykke Li, is the cohesiveness in the Sound AND Look of the Album. The Colours in all three in the following order released Music Videos: Utopia, Deep End and Hard Rain, are reoccurring in every single one. In the Case of Deep End, there were even previews of certain settings, and locations for Hard Rain. These seemingly small details connect all three Videos beautifully, without it feeling forced or contrived.

What Hard Rain in particular works with, is the complementary colour scheme. Where you use two colours which are in direct opposition to their counterpart on the complementary scale. None of the pairs within complementary colours dominate the other. If mixed they would end up being a light to dark grey. They cancel each other out so to speak.

By taking these opposites we already have a platform for narrative. We know these are two polar opposites, we know that none is stronger than the other. Naturally when Lykke is placed in the middle, in between two colours, we expect a border, or the fading of.

The Video starts out with Lykke and her Lover kissing in a shower, a clear shower curtain between them, keeping them mechanically and synthetically apart. There is a strong red light projected onto Lykke’s back, whereas her lover on the other side of the curtain is lit in green. These two colours are complementary to each other. Therefore, the border between the two is hereby the shower curtain. We know that these colours are vibrant on their own, but fail to mix and blend to produce another vibrant colour. So, there is a sense of danger which feeds into the Idea of both of them (LykkeRed and LoverGreen) touching or engaging with one another, as this may result in them losing themselves without gaining a new. Before we move onto the next shot, which is the title screen of the video for hard rain, also completely drenched in red, we witness the Lover`s hand slide under the curtain and grab onto Lykke`s shoulder blade. A trespassing, musically underlined like we`re used to in horror films. The story has begun.

Her Lover now walks down a hall which again is lit in red. He is now moving freely in her space. Lykke in her red jumper moves in the opposite direction. The red getting paler with each step, halting in a still vibrant pink. We see pond lilies from above, a pair of frogs walking on them. Both in a similar direction, sharing the pool like Lykke and her Lover. Here we see again the red and green imagery. Above water is red whereas everything beneath the waterline is green. And again, as a result to these opposites we have a clear accentuated border (here the waterline) cutting the image in half.

Still in the theme of water, we now arrive at a fish store with the couple. A sad trend in the pet-industry is to manipulate the lighting of fish tanks in order to let mainly tropical freshwater fish appear in a more toxic vibrant neon colour scheme, similar to the flashy colours of reef fish, rather than showing their natural colouration. This ‘fake’ light is flooding the entire room. Tinting the couple in their seemingly happy relaxed state. We see Lykke back in the pool alone, in a bright red dress creating gorgeous lavish shapes, followed by a ‘Match Cut’ through the Image of a red betta fish and it`s flowy fins, mimicking the dress we`ve just seen. Aligning these two images to one another, let’s us overlap Lykke`s and the fish’s experience in an elegant and obvious way. Her lover bought her the fish, trapped in a plastic bag. This could be read as an Omen to where Lykke is heading in the storyline, feeling trapped.

After clinical and playful neon lights and a quick flickering of images, one of which is the couple sharing a bed, the covers being green while bedsheets and pillows are dark red, we arrive in the heart, and seemingly most authentic raw part of the video. A short break, natural lighting, a sunset in the background, the couple`s touching foreheads, mimicking each other’s movements. What potentially could have been an awkward moment in a music video, is a refreshing and genuine halt within the story, Lovers being oblivious to the rest of the world, only perceiving each other.

This Lyric is very well applicable to the usage of the complementary colour scheme within the video. It focuses on the opposites between the two, sharing the same space yet always divided, if through curtain or waterline or just natural occurring border where one colour ends and the other starts. It also, of course, is heart of the song itself and where the couple in their relationship are heading towards.

From here on the gap, or wall between the couple seems to manifest itself in growing impatience and frustration in Lykke. The colours mainly remain red and green or shift to orange and blue, which again are complementary. What is interesting when looking at the following Image, is the compositional aspect in addition to the colours. Whereas the blue on Lykke’s side claims more space than the orange, her lover does the same by occupying more space in the frame than her. The colours alone seem unbalanced, but once we add the associated bodies, it appears perfectly balanced.

We arrive at an image reminiscent of the opening scene. Lykke and her love interacting through a physical and transparent separation. Contrary to the opening scene this divider isn’t flexible, nor is it as clear for her to see through, as the shower curtain. It appears decisions have been made on her side which have set, like the glass dividing the two. She no longer interacts or even looks at her former love interest, who is still trying to reach out through the wall.

Interestingly we see three dominant colours this time around. Lykke occupying the left corner in her red jumper, stands near green, whilst her Lover on the other side of the barrier occupies the larger portion of the image in a peachy orange. Is the addition of a third colour introducing something new to the story? A dynamic implementing where the story is headed, or simply suggesting that the conflict might be resolved here? Lykke leaving him in this orange space while she leaves the green empty, maybe for someone else to fill?

Whichever way we choose to interpret these colours, there is an underlying theme and association with our subjects throughout the video which is undeniable. Let`s choose to see these colours and try to use language to expand on what we perceive as narrative. Colours can be a very reliable, unassuming and elegant way to further transport a story, as well as generate a sense of cohesiveness throughout a project, which relies on colour schemes, as a kind of by product.

Watch HARD RAIN

#lykke li #sosadsosexy #so sad so sexy #album #musicvideo #music review #pitchfork #nme magazine #online magazine #colour #colour theory #colour and narrative #taylor joe #complementary colours #color #music analysis #analysis #trackmag #trckmg

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bibleteachingbyolga · 3 years

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The book of Revelation confuses many Christians. Filled with beasts, angels, living creatures, wars, lightning, thunder, prophecies, and visions, its story can be a bit overwhelming for any of us. Something like a Marvel movie on steroids.

Not surprisingly, scholars differ widely on what it all means. Some try to tie it to actual people and events in history. Others assign most of Revelation to the future. Still others believe God is giving us repeated descriptions of what is taking place now in the church age.

Wherever we land on the bigger picture, Revelation gives us a series of windows into reality that are both hard to miss and easier to understand: its songs. Woven into the fabric of the book are around a dozen choruses, both spoken and sung. That shouldn’t surprise us given how often in Scripture drawing near to God is expressed and encouraged through singing.

But these songs of heaven are unique. They’re written by God himself, and they show us what singing in God’s presence will really be like. And we may be singing some form of these particular choruses forever. Even now, though, they have much to teach us.

Songs of Exuberance

Let’s admit it. The descriptions of the singing of heaven put the sound of any rock concert or sports stadium to shame, not to mention most churches.

Myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice . . . (Revelation 5:11–12)

And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea . . . (Revelation 5:13)

And all the angels . . . fell on their faces before the throne. (Revelation 7:11)

Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder . . . (Revelation 19:6)

Both audibly and visually, we’re confronted with the fact that those who truly grasp God’s nature and what he’s accomplished will be moved to sing. As Dennis Johnson writes, Revelation shows us that “those who dwell with God in heaven constantly break forth in song, overwhelmed with joy and adoration by his perfections in himself and by his awesome achievements in creation and redemption” (Triumph of the Lamb, 330).

The example of heaven challenges the assumption that congregational worship should be reserved and subdued. While we cite proof texts, claim to honor tradition, and avoid looking too fanatical, might it be that we’re actually just failing to see how great God’s glory in Christ really is?

Songs of Explanation

Heaven’s songs give us insight into the character of God, the works of his hands, and why he does what he does. We don’t hear any of the simple, repetitious 7-11 songs (7 words repeated 11 times — or more!) that are so popular today. Rather, the lyrics shed real light on what’s happening in the world and in the heavenly throne room.

Illuminating Holiness

For instance, at the beginning of Revelation 4, John is shown an open door in heaven. He paints a moving picture of what he sees and hears. A throne. An emerald-like rainbow. Flashes of lightning. Peals of thunder. But what does it all mean? Revelation 4:8 tells us:

Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!

God is thrice holy — righteous, omnipotent, eternal, set apart. The song of verse 11 further explains that God created all things and sustains all things for his pleasure:

Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created. (Revelation 4:11)

Unfolding Redemption

At the beginning of chapter 5, John hears a new song, sung to the Lamb:

Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation, and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth. (Revelation 5:9–10)

The Lamb could open the scroll because he was slain, a reference to his substitutionary death on the cross. His death ransomed people for God from every tribe, language, people, and nation, a reference to the international scope of the gospel invitation.

The ransomed will be a kingdom and priests to God who will reign forever on earth, a statement showing that God’s promise to make Israel “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6) was fulfilled in the church, made up of both Jews and Gentiles. In short, despite the turmoil and tests of the present age, God will surely have a diverse people for his glory with whom he will live forever.

After an outpouring of praise for the Lamb’s attributes (Revelation 5:12), we hear another song, declaring Jesus’s divinity as clearly as any passage in Scripture: “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!” (Revelation 5:13). In a similar way, our songs should be filled with the character, nature, purposes, actions, and heart of God. Words don’t get in the way of worship. They give substance and meaning to it.

Songs of Encouragement

When God gave John the prophecy of Revelation, Christians were already facing varying degrees of persecution, and it was expected to increase. Pressures to conform to a pagan culture, and even to participate in the idolatry of emperor worship, came at Christians from every direction.

What would give John’s readers faith to endure and courage to stand against opposition? What would strengthen their resolve as they saw friends and family members taken from their homes and martyred for their allegiance to King Jesus? The knowledge that God’s throne is immovable, sovereign, and eternal.

The saints needed to be reminded that, in the heavenly realms, God’s authority and rule are not only affirmed, but celebrated:

The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ. (Revelation 11:15)

We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty, who is and who was, for you have taken your great power and begun to reign. (Revelation 11:17)

Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God, for his judgments are true and just; for he has judged the great prostitute who corrupted the earth with her immorality, and has avenged on her the blood of his servants. (Revelation 19:1–2)

How often do our songs both detail the forces of evil arrayed against us and point us clearly to the God who has triumphed over them in Christ? David Peterson asks,

Do our hymns and acclamations . . . challenge us to take a firm stand against every manifestation of Satan’s power and to bear faithful witness to the truth of the gospel in our society? It is not good enough to sing certain items merely because they make the congregation feel good! (Engaging with God, 278)

When we sing together, our strength comes not from aiming to feel and emote, but to see and hear. We want to see God reigning on his throne with absolute justice, wisdom, and power over every terrorist, virus, dictator, and manifestation of evil in our day. And we want to hear and join in the cries of jubilation that are already ascending to the God who can do all things and whose purposes cannot be thwarted (Job 42:2).

Songs of Expectation

Endurance is one thing. Expectation is another. It’s possible to sing through dark seasons, discouraging outcomes, heart-wrenching losses, relentless opposition, and dwindling resources with grit, resolve, and stoicism. But that doesn’t describe the songs of heaven. Not even close. They’re marked by joy.

And that joy stems from a confident expectation that God will accomplish everything he has promised. The final songs of Revelation describe God overcoming all evil, the nations bowing down in worship, and the bride of Christ finally beholding her groom, King Jesus, at a never-ending royal celebration of grace.

All nations will come and worship you, for your righteous acts have been revealed. (Revelation 15:4)

Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure. (Revelation 19:6–8)

Do our songs help people clearly understand that what’s yet to come is not only certain but worth celebrating now? Do we fill them with anticipation for our glorious future in Christ, when “all the waiting will be over, every sorrow will be healed, all the dreams it seemed could never be will all be real”? Our songs help bring into sharper focus the things hoped for and unseen that God has promised to us.

Transformed Through Singing

Will our earthly songs look and sound exactly like the songs of heaven? No. But can the songs of heaven motivate us to sing with greater passion, understanding, confidence, and anticipation now? Absolutely. G.K. Beale writes,

Is it possible . . . that, as we declared the same truths about God as the heavenly beings do, the same Holy Spirit who is pictured as being before the throne would deepen and transform our understanding of God and his glory in a way that touches our whole being, in its spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and even physical components? (Revelation: A Shorter Commentary, 108)

It’s not only possible. It’s God’s intention. So, may we joyfully model our singing after the songs of heaven until, by the grace of God, they are no longer just a worthy goal, but the sound of present reality.

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