#yagoi

[otaku-tyriq]

Can I ask from this ask game : https://www.tumblr.com/toomanyfandomsthings/749729499738996736/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-tell-you?source=share

No. 2, 10, 11, 12, 15 for your top 3 fav ships ever.....Thanks 🌻

Hi anon. Thanks for your ask. Unfortunately i do not have any top 3 fav ships ever. Due to my rampant ADHD the ships i love the most change on an almost daily basis. So i can only answer this with the 3 ships i am currently at this very moment (may 2024) most obsessed with. Those ships being:

Freelance Husbands (Sam x Max) from Sam & Max

Haikaveh (Kaveh x Alhaitham) from Genshin impact

Kakagi (Kakoi x Yagi) from Born of Bread

2. What do their love letters look like?

Freelance husbands:

Max’s love letters are probably filled with grammatical errors and bite marks where he tried to eat the paper halfway through.

Sam’s love letters are either the sappiest things you have ever read or smt along the lines of "thanks for not throwing that grenate at me, love you little buddy.

Haikaveh:

Kaveh’s love letter’s are poems, with beautiful drawings attached to them

Alhaitham does not write love letters.

Kakagi:

Yagi cannot write nor read

Kakoi is too prideful to write a loveletter

10. What TV shows do they watch together, and which ones do they hide from the other?

Freelance Husbands:

Midtown cowboys or just several hours of static noise

Haikaveh:

Probably documentaries about ancient history

Kakagi:

Naruto

11. What was their first impression of each other?

Freelance Husbands

Two mentally deranged menaces to society becoming besties for life the second they first lay eyes on each other.

Haikaveh:

Kaveh assumed Alhaitham was weird but adorable when they first met at the academia

Alhaitham thought Kaveh was loud and irritating and adorable when the first met.

Kakagi:

Autism and Adhd Alliance? Nah autism and Adhd hostility

12. What do they do for their anniversary?

Freelance Husbands:

Driving around town shooting at random stuff before going to Stinky’s Diner and get food poisoning.

Haikaveh:

Cuddles at home all day

Kakagi:

A romantic Karate Fight under the moonlight

15. What would they change about each other?

Freelance husbands: nothing

Haikaveh: Alhaitham would want for Kaveh to have more confidence in himself. Kaveh would want Alhaitham to be less stoic

Kakagi: I mean play the game (Born of Bread). That’s basically the plot of their relationship

[v-anrouge]

YAGOI

[zutraeumen]

Hawthorne Island

Adele watched as the man slowly, painfully descended the staircase, his pearly white dress shirt stained with spots of crimson red. The tie dangled under his head like a noose without the black lounge jacket, his movements sluggish, so unlike him, when he lowered himself onto the steps, breath short and arms shaking from the efforts.

She had known John Wick for a long, long time. Longer than he probably remembered from their childhood in Padhorje in 1974. 

But never had she seen him this done with life.

Perhaps back when Helen died, but then again, there was still something that kept the man above the water.

"When Helen died, I lost everything. Until that dog arrived on my doorstep. A final gift from my wife. In that moment, I received some semblance of hope. An opportunity to grieve unalone."  

He had once confessed to her in a moment of vulnerability - rare as they had been. It was at that moment she knew he didn't see her as a threat, and that had been enough for her. 

Trust among hitmen wasn't easy to come by, loyal friends were an unheard commodity, but she had hoped that he would come to see her that way one day.

There was much Jardani wasn't aware of, and she made sure to keep it that way even when they'd finally breached the mistrust. The last thing Adele wanted for him was to feel indebted to her, John had already been in enough of a pinch owing a blood marker to Santino D'Antonio.

If there was one thing Adele most regretted about her involvement with John Wick, it was that she couldn't prevent him from seeking help from that treacherous snake D'Antonio. His spineless treatment of John after he had paid his debt forced her out of the large shadow he had cast. With a $7,000,000 bounty on his head, even if he was the man you would send to kill the boogeyman, he needed help.  

After being branded Excommunicado, he told her to leave his side, he wouldn't doom another to treason.

"Krovavaya Meri sleduyet za Baboy Yagoy v izgnaniye." 

She had told him in Russian, she could still remember the way his eyes grew large as dinner plates. It might have been the first she had completely taken him by surprise. Nevertheless, being the man that he was, that is, a man of action and few words, he took it exactly as she said it and delved no further. Accepting her help.

They ran. They fought. They bled. They killed. 

Adele Cole and John Wick. 

Bloody Mary and Baba Yaga.

Two of the most renowned assassins in the field - excommunicado.

A grand tale in the making...

But like any tale, even this was nearing its end. And so it seemed like his journey would come to a close in Sacré-Coeur. 

A church of all places! 

If there was such a thing as a God, she imagined he would have a good laugh about it.

Adele would have had one, if her heart wasn't so occupied with hurting for her friend. Tears had evaded her for a long time but now they returned with vengeance as they trickled down her dirtied cheeks, already mourning what was to come.

Exhaustion gripped him greatly and it showed in the way he didn't even realize that Adele was making her way towards him. John showed no recognition of her presence even when she sat down right next to him and it sent another pang through her heart.

Adele did not speak to him, even when her mouth forcefully jugged down the words that tried to escape her.

Adele did nothing but sit in utter silence, waiting for him to sort himself out. She was already feeling as if she was intruding into his personal space and moment, thereof. But she was selfish too, and despite knowing better, still desired to be a part of it.

Out of the corner of her trained eye, she watched him lift his head up in the direction of the rising sun, and he looked mesmerized. But Adele only ever had her gaze set on him because missing the final moments of his life seemed unacceptable to her.

She would not have him die alone after all they had been through.

"Helen..." she heard him whisper softly, and a tearful smile etched its way onto her empathetic visage. Her humanity, at last, peaking through.

No matter how many cruelties he had enacted, no matter how many lives he had taken - it was all for his wife. To hold her memory intact. John Wick had been clinging to life through killing, but in the end, he learned how to live by dying. 

Killing remained killing, and violence remained violence, no matter how justified, but for the first time in years, John had done something on his own terms. He chose this end on his own. He chose how he wished to be remembered, memorialised by his loved ones, friends, and allies.

A man of honour, of devotion, of love - a loving husband.

"Do you think she will be there?"

The last thing Adele expected of him was to steer his dark orbs to meet hers, eyes drooping in the wake of blood loss as his posture waned and he decided to rest his head on her shoulder, leaning into her as if she were the only thing keeping him from collapsing. 

And indeed she was.

Unblinking in spite of the curtain of greasy, black hair, the woman held his gaze and replied gently, "She will."

There were no lies in her words, Adele had never hoped for something so much than seeing him happy and fulfilled, even if it was in a place she couldn't follow. They deserved to be together. 

He closed his eyes then, breathing growing shallow, and Adele expected no more of him, resolved to one last selfish act; she slowly let a kiss land on his brow - her goodbye to a brother in arms.

"Thank you, Adele, for everything."

Thank you, Jardani, you have saved me in ways you would never know.

The ever-present tension on his face disappeared as he completely slumped over her sitting person, lax as a dying body could be while Adele carefully manoeuvred him to span across her lap for his final rest.

Her tears had dried by then, but threatened their return as she watched over him in relative silence. The usually sharp lines of his face softened, overtaken by such peacefulness she would have wanted to see more often on him. 

She had lost a good friend that day, and the world had lost a good man.

And the Bloody Mary disappeared with him.

A nautical bell. Foghorns. Waves lapped the shore. Seagulls.

The rotund honk of the small boat jolted her back to the present, Adele should know better than to succumb to stray thoughts but she had been in this business long enough to rely on her instincts alone.

The soft wind tickled the untamed bangs of wavy black hair on either side of her face before she put one side behind her ear, only for it to stubbornly fall back. Grunting, Adele would have to visit a barber to thin it out as it began to obscure her vision too much for her taste.

A young couple stood alone on a dock. They were dressed elegantly for a big night out. The young woman stared off, a little bored. Her partner drummed his hand against his leg. His eyes darted around, a little panicked.

"Babe, please don't smoke it will kill your palate," Adele overheard the young man say to his girlfriend, she spied a hint of berating in his voice, but it was small. The girl in question was a pretty thing; slim figure, big eyes, delicate facial features...

"Then my palate will die happy."

A spitfire that one was. She could recognize another woman with balls. It didn't take her too long to realize by listening that those two weren't a common couple. They barely knew each other to have a serious relationship. Adele figured she must be a high-end escort for the brunette man. She had seen many of her sorts in more luxurious establishments than the docks.

A foghorn blew close by, startling the three of them. A small but gorgeously appointed boat pulled into the harbour.

Leaning back against the stone pillar a fair distance from the boarding platform, she watched as a few other guests began to file into the small boat. She couldn't recognize them by face but - was that Aurelio over there?!

Sure enough, the man looked down to the boot like Aurelio, John's acquaintance. Adele only met the man twice, they weren't close but she had a good memory of all the people she met. It took only a second glance to realize that this man wasn't Aurelio at all. Perhaps an estranged twin? It didn't matter.

The other guests on the other hand... 

There was that air of arrogance about them as they strutted about. They intently took up too much space, more than they needed. This misconception of magnified importance in comparison to the other 8 billion people on the planet. 

The elite. Egocentric, narcissistic... 

They made Margot and Tyler stand out like a sore thumb, but at least through his running mouth, she got a vague sense of who she was dealing with. After counting the total amount of eleven guests, her employer being among them, there seemed no one else left to board the ship other than her, so it was time to join them on the deck.

Ravel's 'Une barque sur l'océan' played dreamily in the distance.

The staff greeted them with impeccable attentiveness and professionalism the guests met with shallow smiles to uphold etiquette, dismissing the quality of the service because of their preconceived notion that they were worthy of such. They all shined with smugness and vaunted their privilege of having been personally invited by the ingenious Chef Slowik to come to dine on his island - it excited them, and must have made them feel even more special than they in reality were.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please make yourselves comfortable for our 30-minute journey to Hawthorn."

There wasn't much unoccupied space left for Adele to roam without drawing attention, so she decided to keep her movement abroad the ship slow, to get as much information about the guests and their motives as possible. However, no matter how stealthily she moved it seemed she could not escape the dutiful butlers ready to serve their customers.

They offered her a glass of wine, appearing even redder against the rays of sunshine. The butler had given her a detailed, crisp explanation of the wine and its origin that Adele had already forgotten half of.

She opted to inspect it, there appeared to be no fault in colour and there was nothing she could sniff out. But the small pink flowers gave her pause. For anyone unsuspecting, this could be mistaken as a common flower meant for aesthetic purposes but to assassins, this was one of the most uncommon poisons known.

Nerium oleander.

A small meal was served to get their mouths prepared for the evening, oyster with lemon caviar.

Not something she would consider eating, so, as the waiter turned corners she dumped it into the sea - Sorry, not sorry.

At this point, Adele would take no chances because as she knew all too well, one could never be sure with unidentifiable substances like Thallium or Polonium-210. Arsenic had also been quite popular for some time until it wasn't. The dish had seemed safe to consume but with the wine poisoned, the message was sent. 

Someone didn't want her to make it into the evening. 

The beat in her heart increased slightly at the prospect but that was just her body tuning in for yet another dangerous mission. There was more to it than met the eye, and instead of feeling angry, Adele felt it was a somewhat ironic turn of events.

"The world can't just let us retire, isn't that right John?"

The seagulls sang their songs as the boat rode the calm waves well into the evening. The weather was beautiful, and the sun's rays offered plentiful warmth, too much to handle in her black turtleneck, leaving her no choice but to either take off the lounge coat or vacate to a more shadowy spot. 

Choosing the latter, the assassin moved away to see what the other guests were up to before they reached the island. 

The front of the house lined the dock, smiling, poised. The assassin followed the others out, disembarking onto trusty land. It was very ceremonial. Adele was a bit unnerved by all the pomp.

The ride was short, but the guests were as lively as ever as they skipped in pairs of two to maître d' that awaited them at the shore, asking about their reservations and then welcoming them to Hawthorne Island until it was Tyler's and Margot's turn.

"Welcome to Hawthorne, Mister Ledford and... Miss Westervelt?"

There was a beat of silence where the lady butler looked puzzled. Margot, equally puzzled, looked at Tyler who began sputtering, "Umm... sorry... yeah, no... that was, uh... it's not Miss Westerv... she had a change of plans so this Miss..."

"I am Margot, hi, nice to meet you."

Margot made a move to lock their arms at his elbow, but he continued not to take her hint and reciprocate. Really convincing act. He couldn't even recall the surname of his plus-one, how utterly embarrassing. And it showed on his face as he offered a small, insecure smile towards the maître d' whose eyes flickered conspicuously between them.

Adele could see the cogs in her head turning as if the last-second replacement posed an unexpected complication; a ripple in the still water. 

With a guarded smile, the small lady butler turned her sharp eyes towards the redhead, "Margot, welcome..." she nodded acknowledging, followed by a cold smile offered more out of pleasantries than anything, "... we endeavour to make your evening as pleasant as possible. Right this way."

Adele scampered back to the end of the line, only now realizing that the boat wouldn't linger for their return. She wondered if she was the only one who noticed this. It wasn't a challenge to secretly manoeuvre through the wealthy pairs at all. Many of them couldn't hold a flicker of attention on anything else than themselves and such lack of awareness suited her just fine.

All the leftover pairs went by smoothly until it was her turn at the end, the only one without a plus-one and she was quite unsure what to expect of the exchange.

"Miss Cole?" Adele was possibly a head taller than the diminutive Asian maître d' but the woman stared her down none the same.

"Yes, Ma'am."

A flicker flashed, could have been a trick of light, through the lady butler's dark eyes. There wasn't much in her expression that would give away something the assassin could pick up on. Perfectly neutral; and professional. Nothing threatening... for now.

"Right this way, please," The woman guided her back to the small flock of their group before beginning to guide them through the island's premises, which Adele had studied meticulously beforehand. 

Weapon and armour were important, yes, but careful planning and information were invaluable. 

She and Wick were of one mind in this regard.

Anna Liebbrandt and her husband excused themselves but not before her client exchanged a few glances with Adele - the assassin understood. The older couple had been frequenting the establishment the most out of anyone present, so it would be silly for them to accompany the rest for a tour.

The lady butler going by the name Elsa guided them first shoreside, "Hawthorne Island comprises 12 acres of forest and pastures. We have the bounty of the sea surrounding us. Out there right now, we are harvesting scallops. You will eat them tonight."

She pointed at the lone fisherman throwing the net into the sea. The guys beside her hollered at him with handwaves, rowdy and slightly tipsy, and he answered back. Adele mentally noted that his motorboat may come useful if she needed a way to escape. 

They trotted along the set pathways to the different plants and gardens, which were seamlessly incorporated into nature. There were no modern installations, everything seemed to point out that most preparations were done manually. The maître d' kept talking even when the guests showed no real interest in it, they chattered away about their affairs in clamorous voices.

That was until they reached a singular smokehouse of Nordic fashion when the finance trio got suddenly interested, "We use the meat of dairy cows only, which we age to an astonishing 152 days to relax the protein strand."

"So," Dave began, all smiles and gestures, "what happens if you serve it on the 153rd day? All hell breaks loose or...?"

What a stupid question, anyone who had ever learnt cooking would be able to answer it, but I  guess to those three, it seemed all the better joke.

"Well, I suppose the bacteria would introduce itself to the consumer's bloodstream and spread into their spinal membranes after which point he or she would become incapacitated and shortly thereafter expire."

The assassin nudged her head to the side thinking it was quite an elaborate way of saying they would die.

"So yes, all hell would break loose."

The boys shared a nervous laugh about it while Madam Elsa turned to address the rest with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Good thing we're pros, yes? Come --"      

The subtle dig at them went woefully unnoticed but Adele had to hold in a scoff because the maître d' clicked heels and resumed their little tour. Next on was something that sent off the first red flags in her brain.

Madam Elsa led them into another building, one fairly bigger than the smokehouse. 

Entering what looked exactly like military barracks, complete with bunk beds. Tiny shower spigots, like at a YMCA, and a row of toilets with no walls or doors, like at a prison. At the centre, the lady butler stopped to speak, "This is where we live."

"You actually live here? All of you?"

"All of us. Except Chef."

Esprit de corps. Lovely.

Julian Bloom's partner, Ted, commented with a swipe of his glasses, "Wow, it's free decor, no?"

"No, Mister Feldman, it's very much more than that. Here, we are family. Each day starts at six, with five hours of prep work. We harvest, we ferment, we slaughter, we marinate, we liquefy, we spherify, we gel."

Tyler smiled, inspired, everyone else, was less sure. 

Margot murmured something that had the maître d' correcting her forcefully, and some even jumped at her raised tone. Everybody went really quiet and Elsa used that to pick up where she left off, "Dinner is typically four hours and twenty-five minutes." 

That long?

"Each day ends at well past two in the morning. So yes, it's best that we all live here."

A different tech bro, the one named Soren, who decided to lounge on one of the beds offhandedly asked if they wouldn't get burned out from such ridiculous working hours but the lady butler merely looked at him, disgusted, but composed herself in time, "Burned out?"

"Yeah, sorry, sorry, like tired of doing the same thing?" Soren rephrased it, meekly.

"Chef holds himself to the highest standard and so do we. We never burn anything unless by design. Now. Who's hungry?"

It might have been subtle but Adele spied it with her trained eye. The venom leaked through the crease of her right eye, mask cracking every so slightly. There was the viper Adele suspected. The assassin fortified her guard subconsciously, looking at this bunker and its implications made her feel uneasy, her gut agreed with her.  

They encountered no other soul on their way to the restaurant, but for those with attentive eyes, the chef's house could be discerned among the trees of the nearby forest. Tyler even asked if they could visit it, which the Madam swiftly turned down. If the staff had no access to the boss' lodging, then neither could the guests.

Two guards awaited them at the entrance, one opted to open the massive, sliding door with the press of a button while the other accompanied Madam Elsa and led them further in. The room was minimalist and faux rustic. A touch sad even. A museum mood where one doesn't necessarily 'enjoy' eating. 

Her sharp eyes flitted across the large room, analysing: six guards (seemingly unarmed), two butlers with pitchers, Madam Elsa and a Sommelier, fourteen sous-chefs, two hallways, one exit, and large windows (bulletproof?).

The kitchen was open, visible from the dining area, and the bustling staff was hard at work. With Chef Julian Slowik nowhere to be seen.

It hosted reasonably big, round tables for two for each couple with small reservation cards on them. Anna and her husband Richard were already seated, but the man went somewhat pale out of nowhere and then switched seats with her client - hmm, strange.

Margot stayed back with her, not knowing where to sit before the maître d' showed her her seat next to Tyler.

"Feel free to observe the cooks as they innovate but please DO NOT photograph our dishes. Chef strongly feels that the beauty in his creation lies in their ephemeral nature." 

Then the lady butler came back for Adele and with a guiding hand at the small of her back, led her to a smaller table abutting a wall where an older lady already presided. Adele greeted her politely before taking her seat, but got no sort of response back. 

The woman across her already nursed a glass of wine and looked as forlorn as any abandoned grandmother. Another guest? Adele sighed lowly, so no small talk then. At least she had the time to look around until the other guests settled.

At her left, there was a buzzing open kitchen with focused sous-chefs working on the dishes with rapt attention to detail. They didn't even look up once to assess their customers, not even when Tyler bothered one of the cooks with his questions, he was promptly sent back to his seat afterwards with a quiet Margot in tow. 

You can take the jacket off, dear.

The Bloody Mary, for one, was utterly rubbish at cooking, and had no finer tastes or demands of her meals other than to be nourishing. Her motto: if it tasted better than from a trashcan, then it was already up to her standard. Props to growing up piss-poor.

Adele turned back to her table companion when the cheery Sommelier offered her another glass of wine, "More Lambrusco, madam? 

The madam nodded silently.

Not poisoned this time.

To avoid suspicion, the assassin agreed with a grateful nod, a guarded expression in place. She might actually consider taking a sip, it looked expensive to waste, but found her mood thoroughly soured as the last contained a portion of a poisonous plant in it. Well, one could play with that glass in the meantime, giving the illusion of mindful savouring.

The other guests all the while, engaged in their own bouts of conversations. Not even showing a remote interest in the ongoing preparations of their soon-to-be meal. While the assassin might benefit from observing the masters at work by writing down a thing or two, she had to sadly fall in line with the other toffs. 

Maybe she could ask them questions like who put FUCKING OLEANDER into her wine!

Adele was having enough of this and the evening barely even started! 

If it wasn't for Tyler and his overexcited fussing that could be heard from miles away, she would have missed entirely the crucial appearance of Chef Slowik in the kitchen, being seated with her back to the dining room made it harder to observe what happened behind her back but made it remarkably easier to fall off the radar.

Bringing the glass to her lips without drinking, she observed how the man strode in. Brooding, intense. Utterly focused as he glided from station to station swiftly, tasting. Elsa approached the Chef and spoke to him softly, without the usual edges in her carefully manufactured face. Adele couldn't hear what was said, but Slowik looked in a certain direction. 

For a second she thought he was looking at Tyler, but it was Margot instead. They locked eyes. The assassin spied recognition in his eyes - no, a sadness perhaps? A longing? The chef tersely broke eye contact and resumed his tasks. The cooks around him continued to work with an almost sinister focus.

That settled it, there was something going on backstage and both of them were definitely not meant to be there - especially Margot.

It was not her first time arriving somewhere technically uninvited (definitely the last time though), she couldn't keep track of how many times she crashed into the Continental over the course of her career, covered in blood and wounds. The face of Charon behind the counter always managed to brighten up her mood in the end. He had been such a good friend.

Ugh, where was the appetizer? She was growing hungry and depressed. Deadly combo.

Ah, like being summoned by her thought, the servers marched, trays in hand with the first taste of the menu. Sitting up properly, the assassin waited for a plate to be put down in front of her only to find out the elder lady was not given one. That ruled her out as a customer. 

"Here we have a compressed cucumber melon, milk snow, and charred lace. Enjoy."

What kind of bullshit is this?

[7ooo-ru]

Российский военный заявил о выжигании ВСУ домов в Курской области «Бабой-ягой»

Бойцы Вооруженных сил Украины (ВСУ) выжигают дома жителей в Курской области с помощью сброса контейнеров с зажигательной жидкостью с беспилотников «Баба-яга». Об этом заявил начальник штаба батальона группировки «Север» с позывным Молот, его цитирует ТАСС.

«Здесь останки "Бабы-яги", которые летают каждую ночь [там], где живут мирные жители. Она сбрасывает мину, которая пробивает крышу. Следом сбрасывает контейнер с зажигательной жидкостью, типа напалм, фосфор или еще что-то», -- рассказал военный.

По его словам, впоследствии дом выгорает дотла. Огонь не охватывает только то, что не способно загореться. Начальник штаба батальона группировки войск «Север» также рассказал, что военнослужащие сбили «Бабу-ягу» электрического типа, которая способна развивать скорость до 300 километров в час.

Ранее стало известно, что двое мужчин из Курской области, спасавших родных в селе Дурово-Бобрик, не выжили после атаки дрона «Баба-Яга» ВСУ. Сперва дрон ударил по машине, в которой находились мужчины, а когда те выбежали, добил их.

Коптеры «Баба-яга» представляют собой дроны с шестью и более одновременно вращающимис�� моторами, которые могут нести достаточно тяжелые грузы. Такие беспилотники на порядок крупнее и тяжелее обычных беспилотных летательных аппаратов.

Подробнее https://7ooo.ru/group/2024/11/12/313-rossiyskiy-voennyy-zayavil-o-vyzhiganii-vsu-domov-v-kurskoy-oblasti-baboy-yagoy-grss-355392074.html

[pandsyagoy]

angus and gregg as humans

[quo-usque-tandem]

All the Eternal Love I Have for Pumpkins by Yagoi Kusama

[bulkbinbox]

pangolim terrestre perto de yagoi, província do sul, serra leoa, alfred weidinger

[hertaraf2023]

İYİ Parti Genel Başkanı Akşener, Kovid-19 aşısı yaptırdı. Akşener,

[durgauniverse-blog1]

So grateful for the past 10 months with yin master Hellen van der Harten and teacher Brenda Freijer @bfreijer from @hartenyoga #hartenyoga at the 200hrs Yin Yoga Teacher Training and the supportive and beautiful yin yoga teacher training group 💚💚💚💚🙏 What an #emotional, #mental and #physical journey it has been. Delighted of all the challenges faced and looking forward to #deepening my yin practice!!! #yogaalliance #yytt #yinyoga #yinyogateachers #yinyogateacherstraining #yinisin #rejuvenation #transformation (at Yagoy) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5kid7TgSqy/?igshid=hdnvmzjny990

[gianhovn]

Người đàn bà điên khiến du khách trên thế giới ‘phát cuồng’

Cẩm nang du lịch › DU LỊCH ĐÔNG NAM Á › Du lịch Singapore › Người đàn bà điên khiến du khách trên thế giới ‘phát cuồng’

11:07 18/10/2017

Mặc dù Kusama sống trong trại tâm thần nhưng tác phẩm của bà hấp dẫn các nhà triển lãm và du khách tới tham quan.

Người đàn bà điên khiến du khách trên thế giới ‘phát cuồng’

Minh Phương, một du khách người Việt hồ hởi khi cầm trên tay chiếc vé vào tham quan triển lãm của Yayoi Kusama tại Triển lãm quốc gia Singapore. Cô cho biết đến Singapore du lịch được vài ngày và đã mua ngay vé khi bắt đầu mở bán. Kathy, một du khách Mỹ cũng cho biết: “Tôi cũng thích tới bảo tàng, triển lãm để tham quan khi đi du lịch. Nhưng sự xuất hiện của Yagoi Kusama khiến tôi có động lực hơn”.

Yayoi Kusama, người phụ nữ khiến hầu hết bảo tàng trên thế giới và du khách phát cuồng, là một nghệ sĩ điêu khắc, họa sĩ, nhà văn nổi tiếng người Nhật Bản. Các tác phẩm của bà theo trường phái Avant-garde (Nghệ thuật vị nghệ thuật).

Với những ai từng tiếp xúc hay biết “nữ hoàng chấm bi” Yayoi Kusama đều cho rằng, đó là một người phụ nữ kỳ lạ. Trong những lần trả lời phỏng vấn báo chí, Kusama cũng thừa nhận điều này. Thậm chí, bà còn nhận mình là một “kẻ điên” và công khai với thế giới việc sống trong bệnh viện tâm thần hàng chục năm nay.

Thế nhưng hễ “người đàn bà điên” tung ra bộ sưu tập nghệ thuật nào, thì các triển lãm, bảo tàng nghệ thuật trên thế giới đều muốn nó xuất hiện tại chỗ mình. Vé bán để tham quan triển lãm của Kusama luôn được bán hết sạch trong thời gian ngắn, dù không hề rẻ.

Sức hút của Kusama đối với giới mộ điệu mạnh mẽ tới mức, nhiều du khách khi thấy có triển lãm của “nữ hoàng chấm bi” mở tại nơi mình đến tham quan, đều sẵn sàng móc ví để mua vé vào xem. Thậm chí, có không ít du khách ở châu Á còn bay tới các nước có triển lãm của bà như Singapore, Nhật Bản… chỉ để tận mắt chứng kiến các tác phẩm chỉ toàn chấm bi này. Nhiều người cho biết, họ bị kích thích và thậm chí là ám ảnh với các tác phẩm với toàn chấm bi rối rắm như ma trận của bà.

Tác phẩm của Kusama nằm trong bộ sưu tập của các viện bảo tàng, triển lãm hàng đầu thế giới như Bảo tàng Nghệ thuật Hiện đại New York, bảo tàng Nghệ thuật Los Angeles, Trung tâm Nghệ thuật Walker, Bảo tàng Nghệ thuật Phoenix, Bảo tàng Stedelijk Amsterdam, Trung tâm Goerges Pompidou, Paris hay Tate Modern, London…

Sau hơn 7 thập kỷ không ngừng nghỉ cống hiến và tạo ra các tác phẩm nghệ thuật độc đáo, Kusama đã được Nhật Bản trao giải nhà nước về thành quả trọn đời năm 2006. Hình chấm bi xuất hiện trong mọi tác phẩm, dự án, nó lặp lại để thể hiện sự ám ảnh của Kusama với cuộc đời. Những hình chấm bi này nổi tiếng đến mức, nó trở thành biểu tượng của Kusama mỗi khi ai đó nhắc đến bà, và được nhiều thương hiệu thời trang nổi tiếng thế giới mua bản quyền.

Ngày nay, dù ở tuổi 90, Kusama vẫn không ngừng sáng tác. Mỗi ngày, bà đều hoàn thành một tác phẩm. Phần lớn tác phẩm đó đều thể hiện nỗi ám ảnh của tuổi thơ khốn khó và không được yêu thương. Cha bà đã phản bội gia đình và có tình nhân, ngay từ bé Kusama đã bị mẹ bắt đi để theo dõi cha. Hình ảnh cha quan hệ với người tình đã trở thành sự tổn thương sâu sắc trong tâm trí cô gái Kusama bé nhỏ năm nào, và nó theo bà trong suốt các tác phẩm sau đó.

Các tác phẩm của Kusama trong những năm gần đây có màu sắc tươi sáng hơn so với quá khứ.

Nơi đầu tiên Kusama đạt được các thành tựu nghệ thuật và khiến cả thế giới biết đến là Mỹ. Bà đã có những năm tháng thành công ở đây và sau đó trở về Nhật Bản.

Năm 1973, Kusama trở về quê nhà khi sức khỏe đã yếu. Tại đây, bà bắt đầu viết tiểu thuyết, truyện ngắn… song song với sáng tác nghệ thuật. Năm 1977, bà tới bệnh viện Seiwa để khám bệnh tâm thầm và đây cũng là nơi cuối cùng nữ hoàng chấm bi muốn sống đến hết đời.

Ngày ngày, Kusama rời bệnh viện tâm thần để tới phòng vẽ gần Shinjuku, Tokyo. Sau đó, bà lại trở về trại điên. Kusma cho biết, sống với những người tâm thần khiến bà có nhiều ý tưởng và giúp bà phiêu hơn trong các tác phẩm. “Nếu không nhờ có nghệ thuật, tôi chắc chắn đã kết thúc cuộc sống của mình từ rất lâu rồi”.

Theo Anh Minh/Vnexpress

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***

Tham khảo: Cẩm nang du lịch iVIVU.com

iVIVU.com October 18, 2017

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yagoi replied to your post: BASTILLE WILL SUPPORT MUSE ON THEIR UK TOUR AND I...

OMFG OMFG REALLY? I WISH I COULD GO ;-;

yES i wish i could go buT NOOOOO ugh 

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My baby boy

[an-nie-onymous]

Hiiii :) 02, 08, 09, 15, 17, 25 and 27?

02: where you’d like to be in 10 years

Oh.. in 10 years I’ll be 25, and I’d like to live in America or England somewhere or I’d like to travel around, living all over the place. I just want to live life when I’m 25.

08: A moment you felt the most satisfied with your life.

hmm.. is it bad that I honestly can’t come up with one hahaWell I think a couple months ago because I had no major issues and stuff hahha

09: How you hope your future will be like.

I hope I will have fun and be happy. I want to travel and meet people and laugh and do whatever I want.I hope I either work with something I really love or win money or something so I could work with charities and such for free!

15: Your favorite tumblrs.

This guy, this girl, this girl, this girl, this girl, YOU and more people!

17: Your highs and lows of this past year.

Gonna count this as 2013 and the later half of 2012 ok ahha

highs - kinda got the main part in a theatre, went on my first ever date, became best friends with the best person ever, chose to study music, had some really nice sleepovers too!

Lows - kinda got the main part in a theatre, went on my first ever date, lost some friends, made some bad desicions, had to deal with some legit shit that was thrown at me by close friends, i was scared to face the people i called friends because they had hated on me so much via text, I spent the entire summer alone inside because I was too scared to put on a bikini, i’ve had some bad fights with my parents and yeah I’m going to stop there haha

25: Someone who fascinates you and why.

I think I’m going to say Ed Sheeran because I can’t even begin to understand how he can turn simple sentenses to poetry I just can’t like he’s really a musical genious

27: A problem that you have had.

WOaH one problem???Well one problem that I constantly have is that I fight with my parent all the time haha so I’ll say that

i love you loads ok

[durgauniverse-blog1]

That moment when a ten month Yin Yoga Teacher Training is completed!!! Group exam can be challenging, but also so rewarding. #yinyoga #yytt #yinyogaamsterdam (at Yagoy) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5kgozGABDi/?igshid=gqju4r73tke4

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yagoi replied to your photo: hey guys bye guys

omg u so pretty like quuuurl

aw thank, bless u my angel

[pandsyagoy]

I'm doing commissioned so if you want one hit me up