#we started a new subject about frida kahlo and i say oh i like her! :D and my teacher goes yeah i thought so.. only weird people like her

[fragglez]

I'm in my third year of spanish rn and my teacher pulled me aside today and asked me if i have considered watching spanish YouTube videos for BABIES 😭😭 girl fuck you why don't you just become a better teacher

[ithacamoma]

20 QUESTIONS FOR: TAMMY SALZL

image courtesy of the artist and DC3 Art Projects

1.Name:

Tammy Salzl

2.Occupation(s):

Artist, Sessional Teacher in Senior Level Painting at the University of Alberta.

3.Where are you from and what is your education?

I was born in Edmonton, AB, into a gigantic dysfunctional family with 18 aunts and uncles, 42 first cousins and barely one parent. I spent my summers being tortured as an English speaking city slicker in French speaking prairie farm communities. Retreating into art and stories and animals was the salvation I didn’t find in the fundamentalist religion I was periodically thrown into. For my undergrad I did 2 years at ACAD (Now called AUArts), and finished my BFA at the University of Alberta.  I received my Masters in Studio Arts (Painting) at Concordia University in Montreal 2014 and have been expanding my practice to include video and multimedia installation since graduation.

4.Where do you live/work (neighbourhood/city/country)?

For the past 3 yrs I’ve been splitting my year between the Southside of Edmonton, AB. and Parc Ex in Montreal QC. I have family in both places, which makes this both possible and necessary.

5.Does your location affect your practice?  

Definitely! Emotionally, psychologically and logistically. I’m lucky to be able to spend time in both eastern and western Canada. Sometimes they seem like entirely different worlds and it’s a privilege to be able to step into both. It broadens my field of vision.

6.What is your favourite tool in the studio?

I have two favourite things. My glue gun, because I love glueing stuff, it makes me feel like a little kid again! I also love it when I have a fresh, unused brush in hand.

7.Where do you look for your source material?

Everywhere! Movies, books, (I love sci-fi books, and I just finished 2 books by Yuval Noah Harari - Sapiens and 21 Lessons for the 21st Century - so gooood!) mythology, ecology, weird/wondrous animals (like the barrel eye fish or the Aye-aye), bus stops, Edmonton’s River valley, back alleys in Montreal, weird stop motion animations, the fresh sights, sounds and smells that come with travel, looking at art and, occasionally, the bottom of my wine glass.

8.What is you daily art world read?

I email subscribe to a bunch of art blogs (like Hyperallergic and artdaily.org etc), and I also try to read Border Crossings and Canadian Art magazines, but honestly a lot of my art world reads come from instagram. Cuz you know… pictures.

9.What is your daily non-art-world read?

I love science and nature blogs. I really enjoy nature.com, naturecanada.ca,  futurism.com/, and for quick global news stuff I like Quartz Daily Brief. It’s hard…you don’t want to be ill informed yet it’s so bleak out there…I think overexposure to media can be harmful. I try to find a balance.

10.What role does writing play in your practice?

Sadly, not much. It’s an inescapable task for every artist, and one I dearly wish I could escape. That said, aside from the necessary evil of artist statement/proposal/grant type of writing, I sometimes play at creative writing. I make little one page tales that turn into paintings, or I write a short narratives based on something I’ve made. I’ll often have automatic writing embedded in my underpaintings, and if you look hard enough you can sometimes find traces of a word here and there.

11.What role does research play in your practice?

Because I peddle in tales, I research the history, culture, psychology, pop culture, philosophy of whatever traditional tale or mythology I’m referencing, and how others have interpreted those tales over time - even if I’m referencing something like Dr. Seuss. I often tie that into the research I do out of my interest in ecology and nature. For me, working representationally means there is intension in everything. I try to have layers of meaning and make work that engenders multiple interpretations. I research the symbolism and history of objects, places, animals, colours , etc. With my installations there is a lot of material research involved as well.

12.What role does collaboration play in your practice?

Since expanding my painting practice into intermedia work, I’ve done quite a bit of collaborating in the form of “I don’t know how to do this technical thing so I need to find someone who does”. It’s taught me a lot in terms of learning to communicate and work with others. As a solitary person, it’s a challenge for me, but I also find it incredibly rewarding and enriching. Also, a couple of years ago 4 female artist friends and I began an art collective called IFPP (incubator for phantom pregnancies) We’ve staged a couple exhibitions and have some upcoming shows, and it’s been really great. You learn a lot about yourself in a collaborative process, and it’s exhilarating ending up with this thing you helped create, but in a mind hive kind of way.

13.How does success affect your practice?

Ideas of success are pretty subjective, no? Speaking in terms of non-commercial success, I would say it helps drives my practice forward. It gives you the incentive and confidence to keep going, to make more, to take risks and think bigger. Sometimes commercial/monetary success can do the opposite because you’re expected to make more of the same, sellable stuff - to keep the formula and not colour outside those lines.

14.How does failure affect your practice?

Failure is an opportunity to learn, and can lead to amazing things. I suck at it. I can be super stubborn and fight with a painting that’s not working for days and days. I’m often my own worst enemy. I’m learning to walk away, to turn the bloody thing facing the wall and only come back to it when I can be more objective - when I’m in a better place to paint over the 100 hours invested and start over.

15.What do you identify as the biggest challenge in your artistic process?

My own stubbornness! My own rules and obsessiveness and need for control. I can get restrained by fear of making something ‘bad,' and I struggle to let myself play more, to let myself ‘fail’. I can get too caught up in my own head. I struggle with a lot of self doubt. A dear friend of mine recently sent me a beautiful quote by Robert Hughes in an attempt to assuage my doubt:

 “The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is granted to the less talented as a consolation prize.” 

I’m not so sure this is the case, but it’s nice to hear!

Also, like so many of us, I struggle socially and will hide in my studio rather than go to an art opening when I know I should be trying to make “connections”. Wine helps tremendously in all my struggles.

16.Who are some historical artists you are thinking about?

This fluctuates a great deal. I often find myself interested in artists I thought I didn’t like years ago, and will lose interest in artists I thought I loved. Art crushes come and go. I just bought a Frida Kahlo book and am rediscovering my fascination with her.

17.Who are some contemporary artists you are thinking about?

Everyone and no one in particular. I was in LA last January and saw an amazing Outsider Art show at LACMA. There was a piece by Greer Lankton titled, “Candy Darling” depicting a transgender actress who was featured in several of Andy Warhol’s films and was one of Lankton’s icons she looked up to as a trans woman. It’s exquisite with an edgy sexuality - totally blew my mind. I also saw some Mark Bradford works at The Broad that really surprised me. You have to be in front of them to understand how profound, beautiful, raw and sophisticated they are.

18.How do you describe what you are making now?

Right now I’m bouncing all over the place with various mediums. I’m working on a new series of oils, sort of taking the piss out of patriarchal old fables and the misogynistic way they portrayed women by retelling them through a contemporary lens. I’m also making a series of small, intricate “naughty fairies” made out of Sculpey (imagine tinker bell-like creatures going down on each other), some larger installation pieces that incorporate a variety of materials - video, sound, found and crafted objects, and I just completed my first short narrative video with footage shot on an artist residency I did in Norway last year. 

Sometimes I feel like I’m spreading myself too thin and there’s an invisible pressure to focus on one thing, but I’m a storyteller and I use whatever mediums best suites the tale. I think everything I do remains distinctly me, it all has connective threads. Generally I paint in the morning and move onto video and sculpture in the afternoon/evening. Painting is mentally challenging in a very singular way; it’s super humbling and I need a fresh, rested brain to do it.

19.Who is an artist that you think deserves more attention?

Oh man. Too many to count. Seems to me art world trends often translate into amazing artists not getting their due. I think Canadian artists in general deserve more of the international spot light. There’s so much talent here.

20.How can we find out more about you (relevant links etc)?

I keep my website pretty up to date, including upcoming shows and press links etc.

www.tammysalzl.com

[fics-for-my-heart]

Art and Drama

Summary: Everyone can see it but the two of you.

Word count: 4512

Warning: Swearing, awful writing

A/N: This kinda sicks. Half way through I had some awful writers block but I still wanted to post it. This was for the Teacher prompt/idea thing I posted (here). Hope your guys enjoy.

Masterlist

 “Class, don’t forget that we have the field trip to Road Art tomorrow. Please remember to bring a lunch. I’ll send reminder messages tonight. Does anyone have any questions?” You scanned the faces of the class in front of you waiting for a hand. “Alright. Well, work on your projects till class is over. We will meet out front at first bell tomorrow.”

  All the Arts and Humanities teachers had decided on a field trip to a traveling art exhibit that was stopping at the local University. There would be different art pieces, instruments, and even plays. It tackled all the subjects of the arts so it was perfect.

 Before you could walk away a hand went up, it was Ginger, one of the sophomores in your class . “Ms. Y/L/N. I have a question, but it’s not about the field trip.”

 “What’s up?” You asked, walking over and sitting beside her while everyone else started on their projects.

 She looked at Niki, another sophomore in the class before looking at you and giggling. “Have you seen Mr. Holland?”

 “Ginge, I work with the man, of course I’ve seen him.” You rolled your eyes, you knew where this was going, all the girls loved him, mostly for the fact that he was cute and from England.

 Mr. Tom Holland was the drama teacher. Being from the same department, the two of you saw a lot of each other, plus you both joined the staff three years ago. The two of you shared a few late nights here and there setting up different events or going over test and assessments. He alway wrote the best plays, and you always helped with the set design. He was cute, but that wasn’t something you were going to share with a group of gossiping teens.

 “Is he single?” The girl snickered, her eyes wide waiting for your answer.

 “I’m not sure.” That was a lie, he had expressed many times before that he was single, but again, not something they needed to know.

 Ginger sighed. “Ya know, Ms. Y/LN, the two of you would be cute together.”

 “Alright. That’s the end of this conversation. Get to work on your projects.” You shook your head laughing at the girls. They weren’t the first ones to say that. Some of the staff were worse. Like Addy Russell, your best friend, and choir director. The first time you and Tom had stayed late together you didn’t think you would hear the end of it.

 The rest of the day was quiet. It was almost the end of the quarter so you let the kids work on their projects or other work. At the end of the day, you stood in your doorway to monitor the halls. Some students would come in and use the art class for an hour or so, or run up and ask you questions so the door was the prime spot for everything.

 “Good afternoon Ms. Y/LN.” A familiar voice spoke behind you, causing your mouth to spread into a smile against your will.

 “Good afternoon Mr. Holland.” You turned, facing the brown eyes man.

 He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and a smile matching yours on his face. “How was your day?”

 “Oh, ya know. Lots of paint, oil pastels, makers. Same old same old. How was your day?” You rested your head on the doorframe looking at him as he watched the kids laugh and chatter down the hall.

 “Dramatic.” He laughed at his joke while you rolled your eyes. “Actually, I’m working on a new play.” His eyes locked with yours, that same brightness to them he always got when he was excited about a new project. “Want to read over it? You’re the only one I trust to work on the set and backdrop.”

 Just as you smiled, a giggling group of girls walked by, Ginger in the middle very unsubtly winking at you. “I’d love too.”

 “Sick. Well, I’m going to go make you a copy of it. I’ll stick it in your mailbox.” He pushed himself off the wall, walking backwards towards his door a few down from yours. “See you tomorrow Ms. Y/LN.”

 “Have a good evening Mr. Holland.” You waved, watching the last of the kids empty out the hall before turning into your room.

--

 “Alright guys, when we get there the coordinator is going to talk to us and answer some questions, then you are free to roam around the building and visit the exhibits. Anyone seen in an area they aren’t supposed to be in will receive a write up. Am I clear?”

 “Yes Mrs. Russell.”

 “Good. Now go line up with your teachers for roll and we will be on our way.” She hopped off the bench she was on as the kids started walking around.

 After ensuring everyone from your class was present you lead them to the bus and counted them again and found a seat.

The seat beside you dipped. “Good morning Y/N.” It was Harrison, the Gym teacher and Tom’s best friend since they were in schools.

 “Good morning, Haz.” He wasn’t big on having the kids call him by his last name so they all called him Mr. H. “How are you?”

 “I’m swell. I’m glad you guys asked me to chaperone because Tom hasn't stopped talking about this and I really wanted to go.”

 As of on cue, Tom bounced onto the bus. He instantly found the two of you but narrowed his eyes at Harrison as he made his way down the aisle. “I thought we would sit together?” His question was directed at you, his bottom lip out a bit.

 Harrison draped his arm over you. “Sorry mate. I was here first.”

 “You guys suck.” He whispered before making his way to the back of the bus. Moments later both your phones buzzed.

 Tommy Boiii in Work Hoes: Haz u suk m8

 Hazzy Boiii: slow feet loose ya seat

 You: now now, are we in middle school?

 Tommy Boiii: High school actually

 You: l8r h8r

 When the buses arrived at the Universities Art Center, you and Abby lead the group to the theater where the coordinator would be speaking. Once all the kids were seated, you scanned the rows for an empty seat only to be met with Tom standing in the back row looking right at you. He nodded his head and pointed at the seat beside him.

 “I was going to yell your name if you didn’t look at me.” He laughed when you sat down.

 “Oh shut it.” He opened his mouth to speak at the same time the coordinator started and you stuck a head up. “No. Really. Shh. I want to hear what he says.”

 He introduced himself as Mel Robertson. He gave a short introduction on himself, and about each of the exhibits set up throughout the building. The painting and music exhibits held pieces from from different time periods and two different plays would be performed on the two stages with a chance for everyone to see them. After the short intro, he opened the floor up for questions.

 “How long did it take to set this up?”

 “About two years. There was a lot of rehearsals for the plays, and having to contact the right people in order to obtain permission to show the art pieces. Collecting the instruments was probably the most difficult part. But, it was well worth it because it’s been three years now and we always have amazing turn out.”

 “Are any of the art pieces originals?”

 “Sadly, no. It was too expensive insurance wise to be able to get originals. But, it was also safer to present copies because of the risks of damage while traveling. However, the copies we have are all professionally done and are almost indistinguishable from the originals.”

 The questions rolled in for a few more minutes till Mr. Robertson looked at his watch. “Well, I believe it’s time to get started. I’ll let your teacher take it from here. If any of you have any questions feel free to ask.” He waved as he and Abby traded places.

 “You guys are free to roam. All I ask is that you please be respectful and that you stay in the building. There’s a cafe in the basement if you guys want to eat, and we will make an announcement over the intercom when it's time to leave. Now, off you go, have fun.” All at once, everyone was up and making their way to the exits.

 “So.” Tom started, taking a map from one of the people by the door. “Thanks. Where to first?”

 You looked over his shoulder, pointing at the area for the paintings. “Obviously.”

——

 In all honestly, you were surprised in the best way at the variety of artists and art they had displayed. Everything from pencil sketches to textiles, from Van Gogh to Raphael. The coordinator was serious about the pieces looking authentic.

 “Wow.” The moment you walked in you were drawn to a Van Gogh piece. “This is incredible.”

 “This is Van Gogh, right?” Tom asked, stepping beside you and examining the piece.

 You pointed at the small label at the bottom. “Yeah. It’s “The garden of the asylum at Saint-Rémy”. It’s one of my favorite pieces he did.”

 “Tell me about it.”

 Your eyes scanned the colors as you spoke. “He painted it in 1889 while he was receiving treatment at the asylum. He did a lot of paintings there, all centered around the grounds of the building. The colors are my favorite part.” You point at the top of the tree. “The way he captures the different shadows from the light. This attention to the colors and the amount of detail takes my breath away.”

 “It is beautiful.” Tom was almost whispering and in the room full of chatty teens it was almost inaudible. He moved, brushing his elbow against your arm as he looked at another painting. “Woah. Can you tell me about this one?”

 You pulled your eyes away and followed his finger to another painting that was just as amazing as the first. “Oh my. That’s a Frida Kahlo piece called “The Broken Column”. She painted it in 1944 after she had surgery on her back. The white around her is said to represent the metallic corset she had to wear, and the column that’s broken is her back.” You were silent a moment, just taking in the painting. “The way you can almost feel the pain just by looking at her eyes. It's incredible how much emotion she can have someone feeling.  A lot of her art was self-portrait. Another piece she did called “The Nurse and I” depicted her as a infant being breastfed by a wet nurse. It’s a very interesting piece, I’ll have to show it to you sometime.” You glanced over at him, he was already looking at you, a smile on his face. “What?”

 He blinked, shaking his head while laughing to himself. “Nothing. I just enjoy hearing about art from you.” He extended his elbow. “Tell me more.”

 He escorted you through all the exhibit. There was a fuzzy feeling in your stomach as he asked you about different pieces, and it was clear that he really was interested in knowing about them. It was nice to be able to talk as much as you wanted about the difference between the brush strokes, or the way the colors were mixed a certain way to achieve the color.

 Tom loved hearing you talk about the art. He loved your voice if he was being honest with himself, and he loved how excited you were when you’d talk about your favorite painting or sketch. The way your eyes would light up, and how you would squeeze his arm slightly when you would get super excited about a fact. He wanted to keep you talking about art as long as he could, so he was a bit sad when you reached the last painting.

 The two of you joined Harrison and Abby lunch in the cafe, then toured around the musical instruments before heading to watch the plays. This was what Tom was excited about. He loved everything about theater.

 “It’s the way you get transported into the story of a well written play. And how you can be another person if you’re performing in one.” His eyes were bright in the shadows from the lights on stage. Excitement filling him much as it had filled you earlier.

 Watching his face change throughout the plays was almost as entertaining as the plays themselves. Much like when he was watching on of his own plays come to life, his face was a mixture of emotions. Brows knitted together or up in his hair. Lips either between his teeth or stretched into a smile. His foot tapped along to the beat of musical numbers while his fingers tapped across his leg. Watching him was like watching a one man play.

 “What?” He asked when he glanced over at you. It was much like earlier when he was watching you.

 “Nothing, I just enjoy watching you watch plays.” You shrugged, poking him with your elbow and watching a slight pink cross his cheeks.

 When the second play was over. Abby’s voice filled the building announcing it was time to go. You and Tom walked together and he had his class meet beside yours, determined to sit beside you this time. But the time the busses arrived back at the school it was time for last class so everyone went their separate ways. For you, that meant a planning period so you stopped by your mailbox and headed to your room, planning to enjoy the next hour alone.

 Your mail was mostly announcements and flyers for different school events, but there was something in a Manila envelope marked “-T”. When you opened it you remembered Tom had given you a copy of his script. Sitting back in your chair you started reading. It was the story of a struggling artist who was constantly being belittled by the people around him. But, he never stopped, even while being broke, he never stopped painting. You were instantly pulled into the story, so into it that you missed the sound of the bell for the end of the day. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat at your door that you looked up.  

 “Alright there, love?” Tom asked, his smile widening when he noticed his scripted in your hands.

 You held it up as he made his way to your desk. “Tom, this is amazing.”

 “I knew you’d like it. I’m thinking of trying to get it going soon, have it be the final play of the year.”

 “I’ve already got tons of ideas for backdrops. I’ll sketch some up this weekend and we can meet up Monday after school?” You face was bright, ideas buzzing around your mind of different ways to set the scenes.

 “I’d love that.” He tapped his knuckles on your desk before turning on his toes. “Have a lovely weekend Y/N”

 “You too, Tom!”

—-

 When you returned to school Monday, you were almost too excited. You had spent the entire weekend designing different ideas for buildings, different paintings for the main character to do, and different odds and ends to help set the mood. Tom knew you well, he had scribbled some of his own ideas and visions in the margins which is always a nice help.

 The final bell rang and you were literally bouncing around you room. You grabbed your art binder, scribbled out a quick sorry note for the door, and weaved your way through the crowd of kids to Tom’s room. He was still at his desk when you entered, shutting the door behind you. He looked up at the sound of the hall muffling, a smile taking over his face as he saw it was you, with an equally big smile.

 “Well good afternoon Y/N. How are you?” He set his pen down and watched you walk to his desk.

 “I’m fantastic. I finished the script and went right to work and I think you’ll like some of these ideas.” You handed him the binder, suddenly a bit nervous.

 He stood, making his way to the long table in the front of the room. Slowly he opened the binder and spread out the papers. He brought his hand up to play with his bottom lip as he examined them individually, eyes scanning every detail. Brows pinched in concentration. Your heart fluttered at how beautiful he was.

 “Y/N.” His voice snapped you out of your trance. “These are incredible. You always manage to get things how they were in my head.” You slowly joined him at the table, watching as he looked back at the sketches. “Seriously, these are amazing. When do you want to start working on them?” Excitement laced his voice as his bright boyish face looked at you.

 “Well, this week is finals and next week is the start of break. I don’t have any plans of you want to start then?” Seeing how excited he was brought the excitement back for you too.

 “You got yourself a date.”

 The week blew by. Grading finished projects and submitting final grades. Between class visits with Tom to talk about a tweak here or there on a design. Before you could blink, you were walking into the empty building to start prep. The only sound in the hall was your shoes squeaking as you made your way to Tom’s room only to find he was there.

 You: Where are you?

 You: I swear if you forgot about our plans.

 Just as you were about to call him music started from the auditorium. As if the school wasn’t already spooky, muffled music made it worse. Slowly, you made your way to the end of the hall, stepping quietly inside. Your breath caught. Tom was on stage, a rather tight tank and sweats on. He was dancing. Spinning and leaping to the rise and fall of the music. It was beautiful and hypnotic. When the music ended, he landed the final leap, chest heaving and forehead shiny with sweat.

 “Bravo!” You clapped, causing him to nearly fall over.

 “Shit. Oh my god you scare me.” He bent with his hands on his knees as you made your way to the stage.

 Looking up at him, you smiled. “That really was amazing.”

 His cheeks were flushed as he smiled. “Thanks. Now, get up here and let's get to work.”

 The two of you spent the day going over the script and setting up placement for people, props, and set pieces. It was the most important first step and Tom set each scene on its own paper. Every move was planned first, then as the set pieces were introduced he would make adjustments. It was fun. You represent each character, letting Tom move you where he wanted you to go. His hands were nice, but there was work to do so you pushed the thought out of your head.

 As the week went on, the two of you made your way through the script, getting a rough idea for placement. There were also lots of trips to hardware stores and local restore stores to get things to help with preparing the set. Spending so much time together was nice. Neither of you really knew just how much you liked each other.

 When school started back up Tom got to work setting up auditions while you recruited students to help with set. Most work was limited to after school, but where were a few times Tom would be so excited about an idea that he would bust into your classroom to tell you. Of course, by this time everyone knew you were helping with the play more than before. Tom was coming directly to you with ideas. The two of you sat close in the cafeteria running through things.

 Set building began, and so did play practice. By this time, you and Tom were with each other every day. Your feelings were growing and growing. Tom would wipe some paint off your face and your knees would go weak. He wasn’t much better, the paint on your face made you even cuter. You were both so blinded by nerves that you couldn’t see that you liked each other. But everyone else could tell.

 “Ms. Y/LN.” Gingers hand was in the air, fingers wiggling. “Are you and Mr. Holland dating yet?”

 “Ginger.” Your face warmed as the class giggled. “Why would you ask that?”

 “Please. He clearly likes you! My brother is in his class and apparently you’re all he talks about!”

 You shook your head. “I’m not discussing this. We aren’t dating.” You kept your face stern, ending the conversation, even though your insides had turned to mush.

 It was true though. Tom had started mentioning you a lot more in class. Especially when a new idea would pop into his head. His first words would be “I need to tell Y/N!” And out the door he would go. The class didn’t mind, they enjoyed watching everything play out. But, with you both unknowing of the other feelings, it was making things go agonizingly slow.

 “You know, you and Tom are the talk of the school.” Abby mentioned one weekend while setting up a movie. “All the kids have a ship name for you. And pretty sure I’ve heard something about a running poll on when you guys will finally kiss.”

 “Oh please.” You body warmed at the thought of kissing him, but Abby didn’t need to know that.

 Abby made a tisk sound while joining you on the couch. “Y/N. Come on, you’re telling me you can’t see it?”

 “See what?”

 “Tom likes you.”

 “Bullshit.” You laughed, taking a handful of popcorn. “You’re worse than the kids.”

 “I’m being serious. I happen to know from a very reliable source that it’s true. Also, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him. Y/N he comes to you first with ideas, and don’t think I didn’t see you guys walking arm in arm at Road Art. He was literally beaming at you the entire time.”

 “Whos this ‘reliable source’? Also, duh we are working on the play together.”

 “Who do you think told me? Who, beside you, does Tom spend most of his  time with?” She gave you her teacher look. Eyebrows raised and lips pursed.

 “Harrison? How do I know you’re being forreal?”

 She groaned. “Stop being so stubborn. Whatever. I told you what I know, what you do now is up to you.” She rolled her eyes and played the movie.

 After the talk with Abby, you started to notice the little things more. Tom sat a little closer, stayed later to help you clean up. His text were more frequent and not always about the play. Without fail he was by your door between classes and at the end of everyday. You still couldn’t bring yourself to believe that it was because he liked you. No matter how many times you imagined grabbing his face and kissing him, there was still a bit of doubt.

 Soon it was time for the first show. You were probably just as nervous as the kids.

 “Everything looks wonderful Y/N.” Tom said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You’d been double checking everything, making sure things did what they were suppose to, and that everything was in its place.  “Thanks.” You rested your head on his shoulder. You’ve been a lot of help getting this stuff done.”

 “I should be thanking you. This would have all still been in my head had you not helped. This is mostly possible because of you.” He squeezed you closer, kissing the top of your head causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy.

 All three days went off perfectly. So well in fact, there was another day added, as well as one last performance for the school. The show for the school was the best one of them all. All the kids were excited to put on a good show for their friends, and the rest of the students were excited to see finally see the play. By the end, you had tears in your eyes both from how proud you were of the kids and how sad you were that it was over.

 “Guys! I have a few things to say!” Nick, the lead roll, said while waving his arms to get everyone's attention. “Firstly, this was probably my favorite play to have done, and the group of people I was able to do it with made it even better. Secondly, as a Senior, I’m so glad that I was able to have this play be my last one of my high school career. Thirdly, can Mr. Holland and Ms. Y/LN come out please?” The two of you shared a look before joining the cast on stage. “This play wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for the two of you. You have both been such an inspiration to all of us, so we wanted to do something special for you.” Nick turned and motioned for someone backstage. Tom’s hand reached for yours and you intertwine your fingers.

 “All of your classes got together and we secretly sold goodies and other things to help raise money for next years play.” Two other seniors had joined the front of the stage, a huge check in their hands. Tom’s hand squeezed yours, a huge smile was planted across both of your faces. Excitement flowed through you both as Nick took a moment before he continued. “Together, we raised $4,391.”

 Your eyes grew wide and your mouth dropped. Tears were freely flowing down your face now. The fact that these kids cared enough about the plays absolutely warmed your heart. Tom wore a matching expression to yours. The auditorium was full of cheers, your body was so warm and fuzzy that you almost thought you were dreaming. Tom tugged on your hand, pulling you into a hug, and meeting your lips with his. What?

 Everyone cheered even louder. Whoops and hollers and shouts of finally. But for you, everything stopped. When he pulled away, his face was full of shock

 “Oh my. Oh no. I’m so sorry.” He frantically scanned your face trying to gauge your reaction. “I’ve been want omg to do that for so long. And there was just so much happening just now that I kinda lost myself. Oh man. I hope I di-” You put your finger over his mouth to silence him.

 All the kids on the stage had circled around you, laughing and full of excitement that the two of you finally made a move.

 “Just shut up and kiss me, Mr. Holland.”

[lightandwinged]

So more in-depth thoughts on Coco because I’m thinking more deeply about the entire experience.

The Damn Frozen Short

The whole experience starts out with (a) trailers for shit that my three-year-old thought looked Oscar-worthy (Peter Rabbit, what the fuck did they do to you? And why? Is nothing sacred?) but that had me looking like Chrissy Teigen:

and (b) assuming you survived that, a Frozen “short.” I’m putting “short” in quotes because it’s 22 minutes long and would have done much better as a Disney Channel special like the handful of Toy Story shorts they’ve released in the last couple of years (which are all honestly really good and deserve attention!). 

In fairness to this short, it’s not bad. If the mere word Frozen sends you into fits, you’ll hate it, but I’m neutral on the subject and it was fine. Would’ve been great on ABC or Disney Channel, but they put it in front of Coco to get more butts in the seats, and that’s theoretically fine...  but it was so long. So long. Kyle kept looking over at me like “...why is this still happening? Is there any reason for this to still be happening?”

And, of course, that reason is money. Like anything Frozen-related nowadays is just a shameless cash grab. Anna and Elsa and Kristoff have new Christmas outfits and you have to buy the outfits and the dolls with the outfits and the singing dolls with the outfits and the Christmas cottage with the singing dolls with the outfits, etc. But that said, the only really painful thing about it was the length. It could’ve been trimmed down to like. 7 minutes and been fine. Sigh.

(also, note to those working on Frozen 2: The Meltinating: please please please for the love of all things sacred stop animating and writing Anna and Elsa like they’re in love. They’re sisters, they’re close, but when you have them gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes and barely spending a scene without holding hands, it KIIIIIIIIND OF sends some creepy mixed signals, I AM JUST SAYING)

And then we’re talking about the making of Coco...?

They had a little 2 minute blurb after the Frozen short in which the producers of Coco came out and were like “WE MADE THIS AND WE LIKED IT” and it was like ...okay? It felt 100% like something that really just belonged on the DVD commentary, but I guess we’re doing that in the theater now, so...?

The Story

THERE BE SPOILERS AHEAD.

I’m not going to go through the whole synopsis because you can find that on Wikipedia. Instead, I’m just going to bullet out what I liked, story-wise!

There was a really good reason for the family to hate music. Usually when there’s a plot about “the people hate music BUT I MUST DANCE” it’s for some stupid reason like ‘this character I loved was a big music fan but NOW SHE IS DEAD (it’s always a she, it’s the mom) so NO MUSIC EVER’ or some shit like that. No, with this one, the (ultimately proven incorrect) belief is that music caused the family patriarch to abandon his family, and of course, family is EVERYTHING��here, so abandoning that family is a cardinal sin. Seeing Miguel playing the guitar and loving music so much was, to them, like seeing him shoot up for the first time, and their desire to keep him away from music was out of fear of losing him, not because they just... hate music. Which was nice! It worked!

So did the plot point for getting Miguel to the Land of the Dead. Like basically, the destroyed Physical Symbol Of My Forbidden Desire cliche is... really cliche. I’ve lost count of the number of films that have included that cliche and it’s just sort of like a throwaway thing, but in this film, it actually served to move the plot forward. Miguel’s desperation, coupled with his (ultimately proven incorrect) belief that he’s a descendant of his musical idol lead to him stealing the guitar from his idol’s grave after his own guitar is destroyed... which leads to him heading off to the Land of the Dead because he took something from the dead instead of giving something. The destroyed guitar was necessary because it gave him that last push to do something desperate that was entirely related to the guitar, and I love that about so many Pixar films... they lack red herrings. Everything that shows up at some point shows up again later. 

Like honestly, the whole story felt so very tight. You could tell that this was combed over by editor after editor, that they had meeting after meeting about this, that they drew pictures and storyboarded and really went to town on this. That doesn’t happen in a lot of movies lately. Like you can tell that they were decently written, that someone took out as many plot holes as they could or that they made sure that things flowed decently enough and things were well-paced. But you don’t usually see writing this tight. It felt like a final draft, like they were really proud of what they put out, and that was amazing.

I mean, nothing was just a throwaway joke or line. Everything came back. Early on, there’s a scene where Hector tries to sneak into the Land of the Living by posing as Frida Kahlo. About three scenes later, we actually meet Frida Kahlo, who gets Miguel’s advice on choreographing her big show (I have no idea if the actual Frida Kahlo would have done that entire number, but I liked that this Frida Kahlo did). And then later, Frida Kahlo is the one who sneaks Miguel and his family backstage at the big show so that they can steal Hector’s picture back from Ernesto de la Cruz and send Miguel back home. It would have been so easy for that to have just been a one-off joke, like “haha! Look Frida Kahlo! Someone even white people know about! Lol!” but it served a purpose and that’s both infuriating and wonderful (infuriating because HOW CAN I EDIT MY OWN WRITING TO BE THAT TIGHT UGHHHHH). 

The climax, of course, had the entire theater sobbing (I had to gently explain to Kyle, in my English major way, that the climax is the point at which Miguel sings “Remember Me” to Mama Coco and not anything else). Really, everyone was on the verge from around Hector’s flashback to singing that song with Coco straight through the end (if they weren’t already sobbing), but that particular point was just like OH GOD I AM DYING A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH OF EMOTION. Doug Walker made a really good point in his review about how that climactic song, “Remember Me,” is first shown as this HUGE bombastic number with trumpets and dancers and the works and, through the course of the film, gets smaller and smaller until it’s just a little boy crying as he plays it on a stolen guitar for his beloved Mama Coco. And my GOD does that work. 

Some parts did seem a little unnecessarily extended and some characters did seem extraneous (including, oddly enough, Miguel’s parents--they didn’t do anything except say “listen to your grandmother” and look vaguely concerned. At the same time, though, killing them wouldn’t have worked because then he’d have been too into chilling with them in the Land of the Dead to accomplish the plot? idk, I understand it was a depiction of a Big Mexican Family, but they all bled into each other and didn’t serve much purpose... at least on the living side. The dead side seemed a lot more fleshed out, which is hilarious because they’re skeletons). But it was like... not to the point where I was tapping my fingers and waiting for them to end (like the DAMN FROZEN SHORT), and they moved on well before they overstayed their welcome.

Yeah, now that I think of it, the only issue I had with this movie was that it felt overstuffed with characters that didn’t stand out much from each other. The main cast was fully fleshed out and everyone served a purpose, but once you moved away from them into the supporting roles, you just sort of were like “okay, that’s relative number 10″ or “that’s official number 6.” There was some really great voice talent behind a lot of those characters, but they faded into each other and probably could’ve been condensed. Still, though, that’s a nitpick. 

ART

Dude, this movie. 

Naturally, the visuals were stunning once you got to the Land of the Dead. As Miguel first crossed the bridge, Sammy just froze in his seat and looked at the screen and said, “Wowwwww” in this tiny, awed voice. It’s worth seeing this film in the theater for that scene alone, which evokes a similar awe to seeing The Lion King on the big screen or seeing Star Wars in a theater--it’s BIG and it’s GOOD. 

But even before that, I was gaping at the animation. There was one scene where the light was hitting Miguel’s head at a specific angle, and he didn’t look like a character animated on a screen--he looked like a stop-motion character on a set. He looked real, like you could actually touch him, not like he was pixels. And at the same time, the movie maintained a cartoonishness that kept it from descending into uncanny valley. It’s been a while since Pixar has been so on point with their animation that my jaw drops, but my jaw totally dropped there.

The skeletons were all so amazing, especially the way they managed to give them all distinct bodies despite them all being skeletons. What I really loved were the alebrijes, all the animal spirits that guided the dead on their journeys. Last year, when we stayed at Coronado Springs in Disney World, the gift shop had a collection of Oaxacan alebrije-type carvings that were just so gorgeous, and seeing that art style turned into something alive in the movie was absolutely stunning. I especially loved how, from a distance, the alebrijes looked carved or sculpted, but as they got closer, they took on more living characteristics--fur and feather and glowing eyes. They were just SO cool. 

I am not really artsy enough to dive into like... the nitty gritty of art commentary here, but holy shit, I can appreciate good art when I see it and this movie is art. I think the last Pixar movie that I thought, “Wow, this is really art” about was probably WALL-E or Up (which isn’t to say that there haven’t been real fantastic gems in Pixar movies since--Inside Out is particularly outstanding--but as cool as those visuals were, they didn’t have me scraping my jaw off the ground). Coco, though... man. 

Just... ART.

Overall, just ART. 

tl;dr - this movie was absolutely exquisite, from design to writing to emotional impact and everything in between. Go and see it. But bring tissues.

[nothingbutimagines]

Pictures of You (Cole Sprouse)

Pairing: Cole Sprouse x Photographer!Reader

Warning: Cursing

Summary: You and Cole have been dating for a while and he’s head over heels just like you. He is constantly posting photos about you and just being all and all cute. During one of his interviews, when asked about you, he confesses that he’s missed you since you’ve been out working on your photography somewhere else.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: This is my first Cole Sprouse fic and it was requested by a cute anon who said, “Can you do a Cole Sprouse one shot where you're a photographer and you two are dating and he's always posting about you and you two are really cute and it's all fluffy and people are always him about you in interviews and he's all blushy 💛💛😩and your tom holland imagines are awesome lmao💛💛”

Masterlist Request a Prompt

“So, all I’ve seen on your Instagram are pictures of your girlfriend.” The host who was interviewing Cole stated, only to cause a blush to rise to Cole’s cheeks.

You smiled as you watched him on the television, knowing that the host’s statement was true.

“Well, I do post a lot about Y/n and I’ve been doing it even more lately because she’s been working on her photography in China. She actually just got a job with National Geographic.” Cole said proudly as the audience clapped. “Aw, thanks. I’ll tell her you all are proud.”

You laughed softly as your cheeks started to heat up at the fact that Cole was gushing about you on television.

“You two are so charming.” The host smiled. “How long have you two been together?”

“We’ve been together for two years.” Cole replied. “Our two year anniversary is today, actually.” An choir of awe came from the audience as Cole turned even more red. “Yeah, but she’s in China so we were going to do a skype date.”

“That’s so cute. But before we change the subject, everyone here at the studio has a bit of a surprise for you.”

That was your cue to go. You picked up a cardboard cutout of yourself and headed onto the stage, making sure to cover yourself so Cole couldn’t see you.

“Oh my god!” Cole laughed. “You guys must think I’m too lonely!”

“Well, we thought it’d be a great idea to bring Y/n for you so you wouldn’t feel so alone.” The host explained. “Why don’t you go ahead and take her from our intern?”

“Yeah, sure. Okay.” Cole replied, shaking his head as he rose from his seat. “I still can’t believe you got me this.”

His hands brushed yours as he took the cardboard cutout from you, only to drop it when he laid eyes on your smiling face.

“Y/n!” He cried, pulling you into a hug and lifting you into the air as you lost yourself in a fit of giggles.

“Well, hello to you too.” You smiled as he set you down and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“When- when did you get here?” Cole stammered as the crowd and host watched you two in silence.

“A few hours ago. I would’ve called, but that would’ve ruined the surprise.” You stated, taking Cole’s hand in yours before leading him back to the couch he was previously sitting on.

“Thank you so much for coming, Y/N.” The host said.

“Thank you for having me.”

“So, two years. That is a long time to date so young.”

“Well, it doesn't feel all that long. I mean, we started dating right when I was finishing up college and now here we are, both with amazing jobs and still together.”

“That's just amazing. Most couples your age don't stay together very long. I mean, when I was in my twenties I had a new boyfriend every other week.”

You chuckled along with the audience and Cole. “Well, we always joke that we act like an older couple because of how we get along and how things just fall into place at home. But, lately it's been hard to be so far away.”

“The only thing you didn't tell her was that every time I start to see you on Skype, no matter how far you are, I know- I know that I'm in love with you.” Cole said, placing a hand on yours with a smile.

“Yes, even though I'm far away, we both know I'll always stay right alongside you.” You replied, putting your hand on his.

“Now, I'd like to play a little game with you two. If you look in front of you on the table, there's two whiteboards and markers.” the host explained. “We are going to play the newlywed game.”

“Awesome.” You smiled as you retrieved your marker and board.

“Alright, first question. What is Cole's favorite food? You guys will show your boards on the count of three.”

You wrote down your answer and looked at Cole with a smile. “This question is easy.”

“Okay. Count of three. One, two, three.”

You and Cole showed your boards and laughed as you got the same answer.

“Okay! Good job! Next question, what is Y/N’s favorite thing to photograph?”

You smiled and wrote down your answer as Cole tried to look over your shoulder, causing you to move and hide your board.

“One, two, three!”

You shook your head with a chuckle as you looked at Cole's board, an answer very different from your answer of nature.

“What?!” Cole exclaimed between chuckles. “You take so many pictures of me! How can I not say me?”

“You were so off, baby.”

“Okay, so Cole is obviously a little vain.” The host joked. “Let's move on to the next question. Cole loves to bake, what is his specialty?”

“Cake.” You stated, a little cake drawn in the corner of your board as Cole nudged you.

“Man, you really know Cole, but obviously he needs to work on his facts.”

“It's not my fault she has so many pictures of me!”

“Okay, okay, new question. Who is Y/N’s favorite artist? Hint; the artist is not a photographer.”

“Frida Kahlo.” You both said in unison, showing your boards on the count.

“Alright, Cole's catching up. We have time for two more questions.” The host smiled. “First question, what is the one chick flick Cole secretly loves?”

“The Notebook. A classic.” You stated before he could say anything when the count was called. “We watched it together on our fourth date cause I asked him to watch it with me and he cried before confessing he'd seen it before a few times even though he said he never had.”

The host laughed. “That's phenomenal. Alright, the last and final question; what has Y/N been dying to ask Cole?”

“Oh, god. I have no idea. I'm not even going to write something down.” Cole stated.

“No, write something.” You told him with a smile.

“Okay. Fine.”

“Show the boards on the count of three. One, two, three!”

On Cole's board was a drawing of you and him with flowers surrounding you and on yours it said, “Will you marry me?” with a ring drawn on it.

“Do you mean that?” Cole asked, his jaw hanging low in shock.

“Yes! Of course! I know it's not a normal proposal, but when have we ever been normal?”

“Let's get married! Oh my god, baby, let's get married.” Cole exclaimed, pulling you towards him before locking lips with you and the audience went wild.

All that waiting and all those pictures he posted of you to get to that point seemed like nothing to Cole in that moment.