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creativerogues · 4 years

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Player’s Guide: Oath of Gylenfelt

Gylenfelt, The Astral Wilds

In the many Minotaur Tribes that have become the Silver Charge Mercenary Company, they believe in a Place called Gylenfelt, the Astral Wilds, a place where their Ancestors and many Beasts of War sit within a Grand Hall crafted from the Weapons, Armor and Shields of the Fallen. It is in Gylenfelt that every Man, Woman and Child can feast, fight and enjoy their Afterlives. In this Minotaur Myth, when the Life of a Creature has been given in the eternal hunt for conquest, their Body is carried upon the backs of great stallions to the Halls of Gylenfelt, their spirit happy within its halls and never truly leaving the World.

OPTIONAL SUBCLASS: Oath of Gylenfelt

In the Silver Charge many have taken an onus, a declaration to preserve their own and their brother in arms’ place in the Astral Wilds after death. By pledging themselves to the Gods that rule over the aspect of War, these paragons are granted power for their resolve.

Many are seen leading charges and inspiring their allies to ensure they reach their glorious end, for now is the time for their duty.

Tenets of the Oath

Earn your Brother’s Respect. Aid your Allies and those weaker than you.

Earn your Enemy’s Fear. Strike down your Foes with no exception.

Earn your Place in Gylenfelt. Do not cower from the possibility of your end, and never stray from the stallion's path.

Oath Spells

Paladin Level - Spells

3rd - Bless, Guiding Bolt

5th - Calm Emotions, Warding Bond

9th - Fear, Spirit Guardians

13th - Stoneskin, War Path

17th - Circle of Power, Greater Restoration

Channel Divinity

When you take this Oath at 3rd Level, you gain the following Channel Divinity options:

Inspiring Resolve (Reaction). As a Reaction, when a Creature that you can see must roll a Death Saving Throw at the start of their Turn, you can expend a use of Channel Divinity to make them instantly succeed on 1 Death Save.

Your Duty Is Not Done

Oath of Gylenfelt, 7th Level Feature

While you are not Incapitated, you emit an Aura up to 10 Feet around you, any Ally that is reduced 0 Hit Points while in your Aura can make a Charisma Saving Throw against a DC of 10 + Twice the Number of Times the Creature has been reduced to 0 Hit Points in the last 24 Hours.

On a success, you inspire them to stay on their feet and continue fighting for their place in Gylenfelt, as they drop to 1 Hit Point instead.

At 18th Level this Aura increases to 30 Feet.

Now Is Not Your Time

Oath of Gylenfelt, 15th Level Feature

When you suffer a Critical Hit, you can use your Reaction to turn that Attack into a Normal Hit. Any Effects triggered by a Critical Hit are canceled. You must complete a Long Rest before using this Feature again.

Champion of Gylenfelt

Oath of Gylenfelt, 20th Level Feature

The Gods of War have favored you, earning your place in the Astral Wilds before you reach your time.

As an Action on your Turn, you can surround yourself in the sounds of battle from the Halls of Gylenfelt, you gain the following benefits for 1 Minute:

You benefit from the effects of the Foresight Spell for the duration.

All Allies within 30 Feet of you that can see or hear you may add your Charisma Modifier to their Attack and Damage Rolls.

If an Ally within 30 Feet of you must roll a Death Saving Throw at the start of their Turn, the Creature rolls against a DC of 5 instead of 10.

You must complete a Long Rest before using this Feature again.

Designer’s Notes

Oath Spells

The Oath Spells I think are pretty good picks, but I think I might swap out some. One I thought about was Phantom Steed, summoning one of the great stallions that carries people to the Halls of Gylenfelt, but after realizing Paladins have Spells like Find Steed and Find Greater Steed, I didn’t think they’d need it.

And yes, War Path is also on there as a Oath Spell, I know it’s my own Homebrew Spell but I thought it fit so well with the theme of the Subclass, of inspiring others and denying them a death without glory. Plus War Path fills the air with the sound of war drums and covers people’s faces in war paint, and if that’s not absolutely badass then I don’t know what is...

Channel Divinity

Yes, I already know each Subclass should have Two Channel Divinity Options, but coming up with them can be hard, and while I have some ideas (which I’ll show below) I don’t know which one to pick:

Returning Strength (Bonus Action). As a Bonus Action on your Turn, you regain a number of points for your Pool of Lay on Hands equal to your Paladin Level.

Rallying Call (Action). As an Action on your Turn, you can release a rallying call to your Allies that instills fear into your Foes.

All Allies within 30 Feet of you that can see and hear you gain a D6 Inspiration Die. This Inspiration Die can be added to any Attack Roll, Ability Check or Saving Throw the Creature makes before the end of your next Turn.

Additionally, all Hostile Creatures within 30 Feet of you that can hear you must make a Charisma Saving Throw or become Frightened till the end of their next turn.

Leading War Cry (Action). Until the end of your next Turn, all Allies within 30 Feet of you that can see and hear you gain a bonus to their Armour Class equal to your Charisma Modifier.

So, how about you pick which one is your favorite idea?

I do love Inspiring Resolve as a Channel Divinity, making easier for your Allies to Stabilize themselves, and the idea of using your Channel Divinity to make someone instantly succeed on a Death Save is gonna be super useful in those low levels...

Your Duty Is Not Done

I’m not too if the DC for this one is too weird, but to me it makes sense, if someone gets knocked to 0HP while within your Aura, they make a Charisma Save and if they pass they’re inspired to keep fighting and drop to 1HP instead of 0.

Calculating the DC shouldn’t be too hard, if you haven’t dropped to 0HP in the last 24 Hours, the DC is 10, if you’re been knocked out once, the DC is 12, and the DC rises by 2 for each additional time you’ve been reduced to 0HP in the last 24 Hours.

Now Is Not Your Time

This one sounds just a little too much like the Grave Cleric for me to be comfortable with…

I’ve had some other Ideas, like “When you or Allies within your Aura are reduced to a number of Hit Points below your Paladin Level, they gain Resistance to all Damage except Psychic Damage.”

But that seems a little too powerful and sounds too much like a Bear Totem Barbarian for my liking, maybe I’ll word to “When you or Allies within your Aura are reduced to a number of Hit Points equal to or below your Paladin Level, they gain Resistance to Bludgeoning, Piercing and Slashing Damage from Non-Magical Weapons.”

Champion of Gylenfelt

This one I love and I’m not sure what I’d change for it, but let’s break it down anyways...

1. “You benefit from the effects of the Foresight Spell for the duration.”

Which means you can't be Surprised and you have Advantage on Attack rolls, Ability Checks, and Saving Throws while Enemies have Disadvantage on Attack rolls against you.

2. “All Allies within 30 Feet of you that can see or hear you may add your Charisma Modifier to their Attack and Damage Rolls.”

A potential +5 to Attack and Damage Rolls! It might be a little powerful, considering it lasts a whole minute, but I feel like if you’ve made it to Level 20, you deserve it...

3. “If an Ally within 30 Feet of you must roll a Death Saving Throw at the start of their Turn, the Creature rolls against a DC of 5 instead of 10.”

This one I’m super proud of, it’s basically the “Anti-Meatgrinder” Mode for Death Saves. It makes it way easier for people to stabilize and at this point anyone within 30 Feet of you is basically a straight up deity on the battlefield...

As always, you can leave a comment or reblog your ideas, suggestions, interpretations and constructive criticisms, everything is appreciated!

#Players Guide #worldbuilding #dnd #DnD 5e #dnd 5e homebrew #homebrew #homebrew rules #homebrew subclass #paladin

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parkeraul · 5 years

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→ boyfriend • 1 | t.h. & s.m.

prologue | part 1

author’s note — hello, girlfriends. first of all, i really wanna apologise for the lack of writings lately & for this shitty moodboard. plus, i wanna give the hugest shoutout to @itrocksmysocks who’s been sending me pictures and stuff to help me get inspiration to write this series [thank u so much, latina neighbour!]. for now, i’m gonna update this series once in a week, then the next i’m gonna reserve the next one to write, then update on the following week and it’ll go on and on. enjoy!

pairing: tom holland x shawn mendes x reader college!tom | college!shawn

masterlist ┊add yourself to my taglists ┊give me feedbacks.

words — 3,4k; warnings — flirting, cursing, mentions of alcoholic drinks.

“People on the very back: Listen!” Mrs. Edwards shouts, banging against the board twice with her pen. “This graphic is very simple, okay? If you keep on talking and talking, it’ll become your worst nightmare and there will be no help during the final test.”

The white board had been completely taken over by lists of informations, numbers, theories and graphics in at least 3 different colours. It’s been an hour or almost two since she started crossing the entire board with red, green, blue & black and Tom feels amazed by how well she manages to understand the entire system she’s been writing for so many time. As a class he signed for just to have some more complementary hours, he can straight tell you he’s not exactly caring about it that much. It’s way too fast and too mathematic for his mind.

All the people sitting around him in the classroom are already letting the tiredness consume them. Some are sighing and dropping their pencils; some are rubbing their faces repeatedly; some others are actually paying attention and probably trying hard not to freak out. Considering the white walls with white tables and chairs, if no one said that this is a math class, people would probably walk in and think it’s a sanatorium. All faces exhausted and it’s clear to see that at least 90% of the class can’t wait for the summer break to rescue them all — the 10% left is filled with the boys that have been sleeping for the past 30 minutes.

“Next class we’ll get back to the basic analysis to freshen up a bit, I recommend you to bring one or two books to do some research as well—“

“Hey, dude,” Jacob whispers close to Tom, sitting on the chair in front of him as he turns his head — far enough to see Tom leaning in through his peripheral, but not far enough to lose sight of Mrs. Edwards giving further endorsements. “Match tomorrow at 5?” “Sure,” Tom agrees, keeping his ‘attentive’ on the teacher in front of the class. “Have you guys picked the entire team already?” He says nonchalantly. It’s typical: In Fridays, after everyone’s last class, friendly football match with the boys from the athletic team of the Empshire University.

“Ian, Ryan, Heather and Matthew: You guys cannot miss the next class at all. You guys have been bailing for a long time and one more skip it’s deadline for the four of you—“

“Same thing,” Jacob says and Tom starts to close his books, pulling his backpack up to tuck them inside of it haphazardly. “But we’ll add John Mayer to it because Kevin’s not coming.” “You don’t have to say John Mayer, his gang’s not here,” They both look around the classroom, failing at being discreet as they search for any friends of… Well… ’John Mayer’. Tom zips his bag close and Jacob turns around to do the same while everyone else’s already prompting themselves up to leave. “And you better put him in the defenders, far away from the frontline.” “I knew you’d say this!” They laugh under their breaths, also getting up to finally inspire some fresh air outside.

“See you next Thursday.” Mrs. Edwards says almost quietly, arranging her stuff while the room starts to get empty.

The corridor had never felt this comfy before. It’s crowded and a little bit loud but a lot better than Classroom number 9. As students from all courses starts talking to each other, Tom takes a look across the wall and spots new posters.

This wall is known as The Great Wall of Empshire —or Wall–E for the intimates. The Wall–E is a large blue wall that stands out from the regular white & grey ones of the building. Also, is where students pin folders and posters to warn the whole college about whatever seems to be relevant. It mostly holds notices of people looking for roommates, lost & found stuff, a special space painted in red for teacher’s announcements and messages from the secretariat of the university. As the results of the finals and classes stuff starts to fade away, the posters to summer parties slowly take over the big blue rectangle in the exact middle of the corridor to one of the two buildings that build the Empshire University.

Coming closer, Tom watches Missy climbing tiny–trembling stairs to glue a folder about Musical Theatre auditions. She’s sure struggling and, although he feels bad, he laughs in anyways as low as he can. Obviously, he doesn’t come out as subtle as he planned and gets a very–stressed Missy Langford slicing his entire being in two with the mad look in her blue eyes.

“You’re being very helpful by laughing,” She huffs, tapping the big poster repetitively to make sure it won’t fall for the next week. “Asshole.” “Oh, Miss, come on,” He teases, smirking like the asshole she just called him. “I thought we were over that part. Asshole! – Idiot! – Douche! Get outta here! You know? Last summer’s business, love,” Tom brings up a memory they both shared some time ago, knowing how pissed she’d get with the dialogue all over Tom’s charming accent in a playful tone, which sure has nothing to do with the atmosphere of the moment itself. “I swear to God that if this thing was any stronger, I’d jump onto your face right now.” After rolling her eyes, Missy spits at Tom and sees his smile widening stupidly. “Anyways,” Crossing arms, Tom steps closer to the Wall–E and leans against a blank space. “What’s that?” “We’re doing Hairspray,” She answers flatly. “Not that you’re allowed to subscribe, of course.” “Who said?” Tom frowns and squeaks way louder than usual. What now? Is she going to forbid him to audition to an open–invitation? “Jesus.” Tom’s jaw falls dramatically, “Oh! Swearing to God… Talking to Jesus, apparently,” He quirks an eyebrow, faking surprise. “Didn’t know you had friends outside college.” “Will you shut the fuck up and help me get down?” Missy gives the poster one last strong tap — probably thinking about slapping Tom’s face instead — and stretches an arm towards him. “Not that you deserve it, but–“

Tom goes silent at the moment he gets his back off the wall to help Missy, noticing Jacob coming closer suddenly with someone else.

“Is it here?” The person with Jacob asks, holding a big orange poster. “Yep,” He confirms. “We call it Wall–E!” The answer to his information is just a laughter that makes Tom immediately forget about giving Missy a hand, bringing him to step closer to the conversation. “Hey man, where were you?” At the moment Tom asks, Jacob instantly gets what he’s trying to do. Not that Tom wasn’t kinda nosy sometimes, but they’ve been hanging out enough for his moves to look predictable. Way too predictable. Jacob says nothing, only squints his eyes and the silence suiting the four of them is slightly uncomfortable. “Uhm… I asked him for help as he was waiting for people to open some space so we… Could… Walk until here.” The voice is hesitant and sweet, although, while Missy eyes the person — The person looks at Tom, then looks down — Tom looks back & Jacob watches Tom prepare a whole scene inside his mind. “There’s some tape upon that tiny cabinet that you can use,” Jacob points to the front, past Tom and Missy Langford, “And if you can put it wherever you want as long as it’s in the blue area.” “Thank you so much! I’ll help myself with anything, don’t wanna take more of your time.” “No worries,” Giving a smile, Jacob walks to the side and then to Tom, offering his hand to a high–five. “I think you’ll be okay.”

As he feels the deep gaze of his friend as he passes by, Tom understands the second intentions of the phrase as if Jacob had just said “very smooth, my friend, shoot your shot” and left. It’s not that Tom Holland is a complete womanizer — the term Prince Charming fits him better, he says —but everyone who knows him decently is aware of the fact that he has no time for bullshit. No ceremony, no playing around. If Tom Holland likes someone, he’ll sure let this person know and try a move. If it goes right then awesome! And if it goes wrong he won’t go bitter about it longer than two or three seconds. He’ll eventually forget even though he doesn’t want to.

The british boy watches another struggle. Tiptoeing, the other person lifts the poster to see if it’ll fit in the only larger space left on The Great Wall as Missy climbs down the stairs by herself, analyzing the entire scene with squinted eyes.

“Here, luv,” Tom gently moves closer and takes the poster in his hands. He tiptoes as well and reaches the blank spot easier. “I think it’ll fit, don’t ya?” “It sure will!” The answer comes out in a chuckle. “I don’t believe we met, actually,” With feet back on the floor, he holds the banner while he looks directly to the owner. There’s this stupid beautiful smile adorning his face kind of shyly, but surely threatening to widen more as his fingers run through his brown hair. “I’m sorry. I’m Y/N,” She says, smiling back at him and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and Tom notices the delicate pair of earrings shining through the locks. “Beautiful! Beautiful name,” His brows frown quickly, listening to her voice like his favourite band’s singing his favourite song of all time. His mouth wants to say ‘beautiful face too’ with ‘beautiful lips’ and a ‘beautiful eyes’, but his brain works harder to keep his dignity safe somehow. “And your name is?” Suddenly, his throat goes dry. He tries to clear it, eyes blinking rapidly and he stretches an arm to find support on the wall. The jeans on his legs goes tighter, the white t-shirt for summer weather feels hotter than a thousand coats and the backpack on his shoulder heavens like he’s carrying a bag filled with rocks. What the heck? “My name?” “No, idiot,” Missy says behind Tom. “My name.” Rolling eyes, Tom slightly turns around and clenches his jaw, looking at Missy Langford’s sarcastic face with everything but appreciation. “Will you shut the fuck up?” He mumbles through gritted teeth. “I’m tryna get lucky in here,” And this time who rolls eyes is Missy, fixing her yellow shirt and putting it back inside her blue jeans. “I’m Thomas, darlin’. You can call me Tom.”

Or future ex–boyfriend, Missy thinks to herself feeling a tiny bit of heartache annoying her chest. It’s been around four months since she argued with Tom, which led to their break–up. Well, Missy calls it a break–up. For Tom, nothing’s been broken up because what they had was just a thing, a sudden meeting of feverish hormones boiling through their bodies. No one ever kneeled down and asked gently, no one ever posted pictures online or introduced the other to their parents. He notices the way she’s still bitter about it, but after a thousand conversations and discussions, Tom had just decided to let her be until the ache goes away eventually, since his words were apparently not helping at all.

“Tom,” Y/N confirms, nodding along and looking at him. He reacts with a smile, coffee eyes drinking her in. “Thank you, Tom! I should probably go find that cabinet where the tape might be at—“ “I’ll show you!” Tom interrupts, prompting up his body and fixing his shirt. “By the way, what are you announcing? Do you need a place to stay or share?” “Oh, no! Not at all,” Y/N warns as soon as she drinks in the way Tom’s tone of voice fell worried. The boy looks down at the poster, trying to find the main information of the paper. “It’s just a party. You’re both invited, actually! It’s gonna be at my place… Tomorrow afternoon.”

Tom says nothing, just removes his eyes from the folder to look at Y/N’s charming smile. He didn’t need any more reasons to say something rather than yes — the other words slipping out of her mouth were soundless to him, his eyes were too hypnotized by the way her lips were moving; hypnotized in a way his ears stopped working for a moment but his head managed to nod along to whatever she proposed. Yes, yes and yes. A thousand times yes to whatever she just proposed.

“Well, I’ll find the tape to hang it on,” She comments, eyeing the couple as her feet start to plan their way to the middle of the corridor. “I hope you can make it.”

Her sweet smile makes it hard for Tom to think twice — not that he even considered doing this, but it’s new to him how the entire surrounding seems to slow down the pace and noise when Y/N simply breathes and smiles sweetly. This is not right, not one bit, he thinks. His heart never raced this fast before; his mouth never craved other lips as it’s doing at the moment but one thing is certain: this party’s going to ease down his thirst one way or another. Tom only realizes that Y/N went away when the frame in front of him becomes Missy. She’s got a smirk on her face and two of her fingers travel across his collarbone, right next to where his white shirt ends. She feels the warmth of his chest increasing underneath the pad of her index and middle fingers, eyes traveling across his softened expression.

“Pick me up at 2 o’clock tomorrow?” She asks rhetorically, melting slightly when he takes her hand to plant a kiss on her knuckles.

By the hand, he drags her body closer so he can murmur next to her ear the same word he’s been saying repeatedly for these past months.

“No.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were going to ditch us for that party tomorrow, you bitch!”

Shawn rolls his eyes, smiling widely as he manages to carry his backpack, water bottle and guitar case towards his car. Brian, on the other hand, doesn’t feel like smiling back.

“Answer me!”

“Dude?!” Shawn stops, putting down his case to grab the keys inside his pocket. “It’s just a football match, we do this every fucking week.”

“Exactly! We do this every fucking week—“

“Man, Y/N’s gonna be there,” He smiles again, pressing the button to unlock the doors. “You know how much I’ve been waiting for this day to come over.”

“Wasn’t she in London?” The redhead asks, walking beside his best friend as he bends down to get the guitar case once again.

Things are heavy in Shawn’s hands and back, but the thought of finally seeing Y/N again after a semester of torture shots a wave of numbness through his nerves. The blue shirt feels hotter and the black jeans are surely tighter, but the way his heart floats around his chest makes him feel light like a feather.

He misses her.

Misses her smile, her eyes, the sound of her voice and her laugh when he first talked about his feelings for her. Shawn noticed that she didn’t believe him at all, but that impression didn’t last long in his mind — the way Y/N got close to his lips to mumble sweet nothings had sent him to cloud 9. Then his trip flew down to hell just as quickly when she pulled away to walk past the door, leaving Shawn’s pout kissing the air and the side of his bed empty. Next thing he knew, Y/N was on a plane ready to spend half of the year exploring the british airs of South West London. The song he wrote about her ended up staying inside of his second drawer, but the long-sleeved jersey of his favourite Hockey team went away with her — making Shawn’s hand itch to find home on that body, taking back what’s his and what he wants to be his.

“Exactly,” He imitates Brian’s words. “Was.”

Brian says nothing, feeling defeated. His brows only lift while his eyes close, knowing that he can’t fight Shawn when he’s like this. Obsessed.

“You should come too,” He invites, putting the tip of his bottle inside his mouth to hold it while he pushes the door open. “Heard–Djulia–iths–gonha–be–ther’.”

His guitar case flies to the backseat along with his backpack, Shawn stepping to the side so Brian can tuck his stuff into the car too.

“I have no fucking idea of what you just said,” Brian tosses his bag while pointing one finger to Shawn. “But I’m not leaving my mates behind because of some girl.”

This time, the one to lift eyebrows is Shawn. His gaze narrows Brian as he hangs the driver’s door open.

“First, you know she’s not some girl,” He corrects. “Second, Julia is gonna be there. It’s a pool party, dumbass.”

While Brian walks to the passenger’s door, it’s like magic. Julia is out there, walking–dancing outside the campus with her friends around her, singing whatever song that was. His blue eyes can’t drift away from her until she’s disappearing behind the cars parked.

“Pool party?” He asks distractedly. “See, that’s the part I hadn’t understood before. I mean, I love football but you know I never say no to a party.”

Message from +44 20…: Hi!! You left before I could even ask for your number…

Y/N gets out of the shower to immediately find her phone buzzing and ringing. The screen doesn’t show the entire text, but she doesn’t need to think that much to figure it out. Opening the app, she finds a second message popping up right after.

+44 20…: I got it from the party poster, I hope you don’t mind

Her bottom lip gets trapped between her teeth, a stupid smiling drawing her face as the profile photo loads. There he is. Messy damp curls atop of a babyface, glasses in front of those chocolate eyes and bare chest. Whew. Typing, feeling like a teenager as her stomach gets butterflies, she can notice the way her breathing goes unpatterned.

You: hey, london boy. there’s no problem! i’m glad you did 😇

It’s fun to Y/N how the text got instantly seen, the ‘typing…’ showing up below the new saved contact’s name in seconds.

Tom (Empshire): 👀👀👀 Hahaha That’s good to know. I’m really looking forward to your party tomorrow

You: you’re gonna make it? that’s perfect 💓

Tom (Empshire): Of course I am! Wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling

Unconsciously, Y/N’s legs clench together just to the imagination of his accent speaking these words loud and clear to her. Even with the dripping hair and body wrapped by just a towel, she jumps on her bed before she falls to the floor.

Tom (Empshire): Do I need to bring something?? Like beers and stuff

You: not really. unless u wanna drink something specific but as long as you’re here… just don’t forget your suit, darling 😛

If she only knew that Tom was exactly how she was picturing… Bare chest, wearing glasses, damp hair and thrown onto the sofa with a boyish grin. Tom honestly couldn’t think about smooth ways to flirt with her, he felt too intimidated — almost like Tom wasn’t Tom. Who would’ve guessed that Tom Holland could watch his moves to talk with a girl?

Tom (Empshire): I won’t haha

Then he couldn’t resist.

Tom (Empshire): Anyways, can’t wait to see you again… It was lovely to meet you earlier today. Good night, pretty one!

With burning cheeks and racing heart, Y/N twists in bed as she holds her phone for dear life. Coming back to the Empshire University fell flat at first, but with the taste of London still stuck in her life somehow, this looks as interesting as being in the United Kingdom itself — with a summertime way more catching than the winter. Her limbs couldn’t stop pulsing and the anticipation ran along her most sensitive spots mercilessly, making her thighs tighten even harder with a big smile tilting up the corners of her swollen lips from all the biting.

You: good night, t. can’t way to see you too. it’ll be awesome.

taglist of girlfriends: @lostinspidey – @goldenmndes – @shawnsunflower – @jawnjendes – @itrocksmysocks – @emilyxkate – @tell-me-when-ur-ready – @particularnervous – @grayxzabdixfer – @shawnssongs – @arypesanchez – @shawnmendes-s – @shawnsheaven – @mylifeisafxingmess – @perfectywrong – @whysparker – @blairscott

tagging mutuals [if you wanna be untagged, please sorry in advance & let me know]: @mcuspidey – @devilmendes – @snowflakeparker – @strangertingle – @honeyrosemuffins.

#tom holland #shawn mendes #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #mine #ficsofmine #series

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expelliarmus · 4 years

Text

I saw that ask meme with questions for gif makers going around, but I felt like answering them all on my own lmao

1. What are your top 3 favorite sets you’ve made

This one, this one (if the timing works lmao), and this one (I’m so proud of my AU gifsets... where did all that creativity go??)

2. What is your least favorite set you’ve made

I honestly don’t know... I don’t think I hate anything I’ve posted though. If I don’t like how it’s turning out, I just won’t post it lol

3. Which of your sets has the most notes

The most notes ever is this one I think

4. A set that flopped but deserved better

I don’t know... there’s a bunch, but I’m fine if a gifset flops

5. What is your favorite movie/TV show to gif

DOCTOR WHO

6. What is your least favorite movie/TV show to gif

I really don’t gif anything else lmao...

7. Who are your top 3 gif makers

I’ll just pick 3 people off the top of my head :) @shatner, @melodyspond, @stupidape

8. What gif trend do you hate

The pale/black and white gifs that are so hard to see.......

9. What/who inspired you to start making gifs

I wanted to gif my favourite parts of DW that I didn’t see anyone else doing, so I was like alrighty, time to learn how to do this!! I think the people that inspired me are long gone from tumblr, or I’m no longer following them because they’ve moved blogs (Natasha aka lumos-maxima... wherever you are, I MISS YOU... also Courtney aka needlebug I MISS YOU TOO)

10. What was the first gif you ever posted

THIS ONE! I remember being so happy about posting it, haha. Also, I still love that Confidential episode so much. I miss my space hipsters...

11. What is that one set you made that just won’t die

The Zoboomafoo one

12. What is the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever giffed

Everything I’ve ever posted

13. Where or from whom did you learn how to gif

Various tutorials on here and just by experimenting. I don’t even think I used Photoshop to begin with, since back in my Neopets days I used Paint Shop Pro to make graphics so I think that’s what I used first to try making gifs of videos.

14. How long does it usually take you to make a set

45 minutes to an hour or so?? It’s been taking longer and longer because the screencaps are so huge though and my poor laptop can’t handle it.

15. Have you ever had gifs stolen and reposted

Yes, and don’t think that I can’t tell when those are my gifs, even without a watermark!!

16. How long have you been making gifs

Since 2011...... my god

17. 10 sets, 8 sets, 6 sets? How many gifs to you prefer in a set

As many as it takes!!!!! But usually between 6-8

18. For the aesthetic, for the laughs, or for the feels what your preference

For FUN!

19. What is your gifting process like

Open video, find scene, screencap, load screencaps in Photoshop, resize to gif dimensions, add colouring, curse myself for picking a hard-to-colour scene, continue adjusting colouring and become increasingly frustrated because it’s not turning out the way I want it to, give up, add text, save gif, POST!

20. Mac or PC

21. PSDs or original coloring for each gif

Original colouring. PSD who???

22. What fandom/movie/show/person etc do you gif the most

DOCTOR WHO and more specifically, David Tennant... I think his tag has the most :’)

23. What is the thing you gif when you don’t have anything else you want to gif

Any episode with Ten and Donna, or The Eleventh Hour, or the Day of the Doctor, or Blink

24. 480p 720p 1080p? What is the minimum quality you’ll gif from

I used to be all good with giffing 480p back in the day, but I guess now it’s 720p since the gif limits have gone way up.

25. Old dimensions or new dimensions and why

New dimensions because they look nicer on the dashboard.

26. How many un posted sets are in your drafts right now

ZERO.

27. Have you ever made a set, decided you hated it and deleted it? What was it

Probably at least one or twice, but I don’t remember.

28. Have you ever posted a set, regretted it and immediately deleted it

No, I don’t think so. I’m leaving my mistakes there for all to see!

29. Have you ever posted a set, realized you made a mistake later but it was already too late

Yes, I did this just the other day with that Missy, Bill and Nardole set. I got the dialogue slightly wrong lmao..... shh

30. How frequently do you like to post

I try to do at least one gifset a day if I can!

31. Do you schedule/queue posts or do you post right after you’re done

Right away. These gifsets are fresh off the grill.

32. What is your favorite tool/adjustment layer in Photoshop

Selective Color or Color Balance

33. Do you like to/can you make edits and graphics too or only gifs

Yes, I can do both but gifs are way more fun imo

34. A set that took you a long time/was really hard but you’re really proud of how it came out

I’m gonna say this one again because I was so proud of it when I made it, and I can’t believe I used to put that much effort into my gifs.

35. Do you change your giffing style a lot or do you have a set routine

I have a routine, as described above. My gifs are pretty much all made the same way as I describe in my colouring tutorial too.

36. Do you gif with something specific in mind or do you just wing it

Usually a mixture of both. I like to try to gif a different Doctor each day, so I’ll know who I have in mind but I’m not planning on a specific episode. I’ll just open up one of their series and go from there!

37. What sets if any do you have planned to make in the future

Idk, I was thinking of doing yet another gifset with Donna in it since I just finished her Big Finish series... but maybe I’ll do one with Eleven and the Ponds??? We’ll see.

38. What are you really excited to gif that isn’t out yet

The next Doctor Who holiday special?? :D

39. How often, if ever, do you delete old sets that you don’t like anymore

Never!! I love seeing how my gifs have slowly changed and improved over time.

40. Why do you make gifs

Because it’s fun, and it’s a way for me to relax after a long and busy day at work.

41. What is your least favorite part about your gif making process

When it takes forever for my screencaps to load, and when it takes forever for my gifs to save sometimes

42. How is your gif folder organized? Is it organized at all?

Lol nope.

43. Do you keep videos forever or delete them once you’re done giffing

I keep the episodes forever, but honestly I think I keep everything forever because I forget about getting rid of the other stuff like trailers and interviews... I should go through my downloads folder.

44. Ever had a gif become a meme? Would you like that if you haven't

I’ve had people use my gifs as reaction gifs and it is a weird feeling, especially seeing the gifs being used on websites other than tumblr. I remember seeing one of my gifs used in someone’s book review on Goodreads and I was like “WAIT THAT LOOKS FAMILIAR!!”

45. Ever gotten hate over a set

Not really hate, but I do get a lot people that are like “WHERE IS ______?” in their tags. And sometimes I just want to be like “Make your own gifs if you think they should be there!!!”

46. Ever gotten a really sweet compliment over a set

Yes :’)

47. Any advice for novice gif makers/people who want to start making gifs

Don’t give up!! Make gifs of whatever makes you happy, don’t worry about the notes too much, and use your tags! KEEP PRACTICING!

48. How would you describe your giffing style

I don’t know??? If someone else has a way to describe my style, then please let me know haha

49. How much would you say you’ve improved since you first started giffing

It’s been almost 9 years since I’ve started, so I hope I’ve improved quite a bit! :P

Well, that was fun. Congrats on making it to the end of this post!!! Now I will go make a gifset.

#personal #i hope the read more works for mobile people lol

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dine-on-nervine · 3 years

Text

Describe the last (or current) object you sat on. I’m in my pleather desk chair.

What was your favourite toy when you were a kid? I don’t recall having a favorite.

What weird thing do you eat that most people dislike? Grapefruit and mushrooms comes to mind. I have no idea why so many people say they don’t like them.

Would you change your name if you got married? Probably not, but I’m not totally adverse because I hate my middle and last names.

Were you in any clubs in high school? Which ones? French and Science.

What time do you generally wake up? My eyes open around 7 due to the sunshine, but I usually actually start coming to life about 8:20am.

Do you share a bathroom with anyone? The one roomie. I am not a fan of this for various reasons.

Are there any songs you know every single lyric to? Yes.

How many amusement parks have you visited? Not sure I’ve ever been to one. Closest one I can think of was Bedrock USA in Arizona over a decade ago, and even then I didn’t pay to get into the park... the gift shop and a Bronto Burger at the cafe in it were quite close enough.

Who is your favourite character from the show Friends? Never watched it. So... Smelly Cat.

Do you have any leftovers in your fridge right now? I have three portions of mashed potatoes and one portion of barbecued chicken in my freezer, which will get me a ways into next week’s lunches at work.

What was the last job interview you attended? Late March of last year, for the job I have now.

Have you ever had a panic attack? Nope, through once or twice felt frantic like that was going to happen.

Where do you keep most of your clothes? In the dresser.

What’s your favourite kind of frosting? Any kind of chocolate frosting is good with me. << Also a fan of cream cheese frosting on spicecake or carrotcake.

Who is the most annoying celebrity in your opinion? Every single person who is directly or tangentally related to Kris Kardashian. There’s fucking NOTHING to say about these people, so it’s really the media giving them oxygen that bothers me. No one give a fuck about anyone they’ve fucked, either, especially when they have no innate comprehension of When To Shut The Fuck Up And Go Back To Their High-Paying Jobs to do something they actually are good at. And Caitlyn, bless you for what you bring to the trans* community, but you’re still on the wrong side politically for where your life is going and no one takes you seriously when it comes to this new bid to run California.

Do you prefer watching movies or TV shows? I prefer talking to someone with a silent background.

What decorations do you have in your bedroom? Over two dozen framed apple box labels, a few framed postcards, Disapproving Dana over my bed to keep me humble, and some mushroom art.

What was the last notification you got on your phone? Girlfriend telling me she’ll be going to bed in, uh, about ten minutes from now, because after she gets into bed she’ll call me to tell me about her day.

What career or study were you really interested in but didn’t pursue? Psychology.

Where do you buy most of your groceries? Winco.

Have you ever taken a painting class? Nope.

Is there a store or restaurant where you’re considered a regular? Red Barn fruitstand.

How far do you have to travel from home to get to school or work? Work is about ten miles away.

Did you use Vine back when it still existed? I didn’t.

Are you more creative or analytical? Analytical.

How do you like your eggs? On someone else’s plate. Scrambled if I have to have them.

How old were you when you started wearing a bra, if ever? I’ve never started wearing a bra. ;-)

What was the last video game you played? Circus Convoy for the Atari 2600.

Are there any recipes you really want to try? Probably, I can’t name any off the top of my head.

Has anyone asked how you feel today? I believe my girlfriend asked how I slept, but I haven’t been asked how I feel in a day or two (post-vaccination). Okay, wait, yesterday I had a dentist appointment and they’re obliged to ask how I feel, when it comes to healthiness.

Well, how do you feel today? It was my Friday so good. But less so after I left because a) I forgot to clock out, and b) I left my clipboard on a shelf when I meant to bring it home [and put what’s on it on the receiving desk].

On that note, how have you been feeling lately? Pretty okay, happy, a bit sore in places and attribute whatever headache I have to my physical labor and my not having any caffiene today.

Have you ever received a speeding fine? Yes, a few times.

Would you rather be incredibly smart or incredibly beautiful? Smart. So I already have this metric. :)

What’s your favourite cookie? Chocolate chip, though will never turn down a peanut butter cookie.

Do you have a doorbell at your house? What I know is there are two wires sticking out where a real doorbell had been, and a plastic one has been pasted on yet I don’t think I’ve ever heard it so I can’t prove it even has working batteries.

What percentage charge is your phone on right now? 100%, since it’s been plugged in since I got home.

What was the last app you had open on your phone? The messenger.

Do you use captions when you watch TV and movies? Not intentionally since while it does help with understanding I get so distracted by them I don’t see what’s going on, I only see the words.

What’s your skincare routine? Facial soap in the shower here, a very gentle face wash cream at my girlfriend’s house.

Have you ever visited someone in a psychiatric home or ward? Yes.

Do you spell it colour, or color? Color.

How tall are you? 5′11″.

What was the last movie you watched? In the theatre, it ws Star Wars: Episode 9 - Fuck Canon, We’re Ending This. On the computer, it might have been Star Wars: Rogue 1 (Episode 3.5). In front of the television, I have no idea but suspect it was a year ago when David Spade at 55 attempted to play the same 25-30 year old putz he always plays in movies.

#100 ?'s

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chroniclesofawkwardness · 5 years

Text

Minutes

I’ve seen the musical Rent at least three times. One of the songs, probably Seasons of Love, has a line that asks how years are measured. The answer they came up with is 525,600 minutes. The time constraint got me thinking this Pride month about how many of those I spend on my phone. I remember having so many minutes as part of my cell phone plan, but the unlimited ones didn’t start after 9 P.M. Imagine that. Measuring how you use your phone based on how many minutes you spent talking to someone else rather than how many gigabytes of data you used all by yourself.

As I write, I’m attempting a digital detox by giving myself only so many minutes to look at my phone each day. I didn’t even take it with me to work yesterday, but I couldn’t shake an anxious feeling I did bring along. It was as if a part of me was missing. You’d have thought I was in mourning. I feel something similar if I’m unlucky enough to forget my watch. I’ll stare down expectantly at the obvious tan lines on my wrist seeking validation that time is indeed passing, but not counting how many of the 525,600 minutes I had left in 2019 and beyond. If I’ve worn my watch but forgotten my phone, the left front pocket of my jeans feels as empty as my wrist without its timepiece. Maybe my soul already was empty. The two questions that consistently emerge are how did I get to this point, and how can I reclaim my minutes instead of just watching them pass?

There are unexpected moments that pique my attention. The first times I heard the phrase: the modern Stone Age family, and the piano outro on In The Meantime by 90s alternative rock outfit Spacehog come to mind. Neither of them made much sense.

In an ode to another of my vices, I recently watched a video in which the author stated that by living for the weekend, your average 22-year-old in the United States has a life expectancy of approximately eleven years if you consider hours spent working a 9-5 job, sleeping, and medical conditions brought on by age that cause one’s quality of life to deteriorate. I’m sure there were even more factors, but if I tell you everything, I’d pretty much rip away the joy of self-discovery.

I wish that my journey toward self-discovery could fill me with the childlike enthusiasm of the athletes of the Special Olympics I saw in action this morning. Not that I wish I had Down’s Syndrome like many of them, but I couldn’t help noticing how those athletes who live with it always seemed to be in IDGAF (I Don’t Give a Fuck) mode. I was envious.

Learning to live with envy isn’t easy without another emotion or activity to balance it out. I won’t go as far as saying I want an extra chromosome or advocating for a specifically-targeted line of 24 and Me DNA tests. Still, I could learn something from the athletes of the Special Olympics. They have every reason to be pissed about the shitty hand life and dealt them on the surface, and the minutes stolen from them due to circumstances beyond their control. If nothing else, watching the athletes compete made me think twice about giving away my minutes so easily to activities designed to take my minutes away.

A few days ago, I watched part of a video presentation in which the speaker said something simple, yet potentially very powerful depending on how I chose to react to it. He admitted to having heard the phrase somewhere else, but I’ll give him credit for it because I don’t know the source. The simple phrase was: “Create more than you consume.” I started ruminating on those words the moment I heard them, and have yet to continue watching the presentation. Why? It speaks to the struggle I’ve had when it comes to seeking validation. It flies in the face of the notion that the things you own end up owning you. It was the rarest of phrases that I could fundamentally relate to rather than just powering through to the next page, segment, or some other demarcation only to feel an ever-fleeting sense of accomplishment. After I heard this, something clicked. I understood that if I wanted to achieve anything worthwhile, I should stop giving myself away so easily when various opportunities present themselves.

I don’t want to break the rest of my life down into fifteen-minute increments, but I would like to relearn how to stay focused beyond the commercial breaks between major events.

When it comes to creative endeavors in which I engage to repurpose my time, I often think of two things I’ve attributed to Charles Bukowski. I’ll give him credit for saying that he tried to write two hundred shitty words a day and that he’d get letters from strangers who told him that Notes from a Dirty Old Man turned them on. Would I like an occasional letter from a stranger confessing that my writing made a bit more blood flow to their private parts? Sure, why not?

My lost minutes are like the Lost Boys in Peter Pan’s Neverland. Lost Boys had fallen out of their prams, and if they weren’t claimed within seven days, they’d be sent to Neverland, where their captain was the boy who wouldn’t grow up. My lost minutes can’t figure out who their captain is. The top contenders are anger, regret, pornography, irrelevant video clips, swirling thoughts, and superficial conversations. Oh, and the newly discovered (by me at least) assertion by Peter Pan that there were no lost girls. Girls were far too clever to fall out of their prams. Who knows why the author was already putting women on a pedestal before they were strong enough to stand on it. Maybe their baby legs couldn’t support the weight of the expectations they were already feeling.

If I believed that there were no lost girls, I might as well go all the way and start shouting from the hills that a certain shampoo really can bring a woman to orgasm, or that an electric toothbrush does remove 47% more plaque than manuals. Below the gum line even. Won’t somebody think of the goddamn gum line? All I had to do was watch thirty-second ads for each product at least one hundred times (thereby throwing more of my nonrenewable minutes in the trash) before I truly believed the messages they were pushing. After all, what're thirty seconds? Whatever stupid show I was watching or game I was playing would be right back, so why should I care?

If I shouldn’t care, why would I be angry? Because the doctor messed up either during or immediately after my birth? Should I be pissed that he was allowed to go on practicing medicine unimpeded, yet his mistake condemned me to a life of not exactly wanting to identify as a person with a disability, but also not wanting to milk my disability for unreasonable accommodation or financial gain? I have to laugh when I see those ads from lawyers trying to drum up clients on TV:

Was your child born with Cerebral Palsy?

Did you or a loved one serve in the Navy or work in a shipyard thereby risking exposure to asbestos?

Are you sick of no one letting you and your wheelbarrow ride the elevator in privacy due to your severe Orchitis?

What’s the point of surrendering my minutes to an emotion rooted deeply in my past when I have to live in the present? My clock has never stopped running from the moment I was born?

Long summer days remind me of the brief period that I felt close to my dad. I was fourteen going on fifteen in the summer of 1996. That’s when I began working on the service project requirement to attain the rank of Eagle Scout, the highest rank in the Boy Scouts of America (fuck yeah). My project was to repaint the bleaches at Spartan Municipal Stadium, which almost every Scioto County schoolkid knows was the site of the first night game in the history of the National Football League.

Dad would wake my ass up at 6:30 A.M., and we’d go to the New Boston Wal-Mart to buy paint, trays, and rollers. In small glory-days-are-gone areas like Scioto County, Ohio, Wal-Mart(’s) had become the place to see and be seen. You could find almost everything American consumerist culture said you needed, and catch up with friends from school, church, or around the corner all under one roof.

If you were having a bad day, pushing your cart past the checkout aisles only pretending to look for the shortest line could make you feel better about yourself almost immediately. You were bound to see people of all shapes and sizes in various states of undress. It was an honest-to-God spectator sport, worthy of competing against the very Spartans whose stadium we were painting. The only real difference (other than the circumference of their waists) between those Spartans and the modern incarnation being that those modern warriors were people who’d largely given up on life, but still needed to sustain themselves before thinking of a way, creative or otherwise, to check out permanently. The fact that even this microcosm of modern life in my hometown was deserted when dad and I came in search of supplies should say something. The prevailing sentiment was that trips to cookie-cutter chain stores like Wally World were all small towns like mine had to look forward to.

As if attaining the rank of Eagle Scout would be my ticket out of that hilly hell hole. When’s the last time you heard someplace described by three straight words beginning with h? Supposedly, only two percent of the boys who join the scouts ever make it to the rank of Eagle. As if I too would grow up to be a United States senator, like John Glenn, or have a generation of kids grow up believing that the answers to life’s biggest questions could be found in my movies, like Steven Spielberg.

I may have believed some of the stories I heard about what other Eagle Scouts had done with their lives since reaching the top of the scouting mountain, but I wanted to get in and out of Wal-Mart on those summer mornings before people who were easy subjects for my dry, often callous sense of humor showed up. The biggest reason I loved pointing out the differences between us was that deep down, I knew there weren’t any.

If dad and I were lucky, we’d make it to the stadium before the heat of the season sucked up the breeze so typical of its early mornings, and left behind temperatures that only seemed to move in one direction. We hardly even talked. We just painted. A father and son who had both suffered loss at an early age, yet not dwelling on anything for once in their lives, just focusing on the task at hand. Not even a traveling band from Cleveland could interrupt us. We’d been instructed not to let anyone who wasn’t helping with the project inside the stadium gates. I’ll remember that summer painting with my dad for the rest of my life. Why should I still be angry at him for not being like the dads I saw on TV? Why should I regret that not a word has passed between us in almost five years? That summer was better than nothing. It gave me more time than a lot of boys got to spend with their dads, however unavailable they may have been. How many minutes have passed between now and then? How many have those have I already lost to useless anger and regret?

Porn’s been a hell of a time thief too. But is it guilty of stealing my time if I was a willing participant? In Q, I wrote at greater length about my addiction and struggling to overcome it than I will here. For now, I’m mainly concerned about the theft of time. I began my meteoric descent into the pornscape at about the same time as my rise through the ranks of scouting. If John and Steven could have only seen what was just the beginning of my life out of uniform. What started as a curiosity ballooned into a serious problem because, for years for the average 22-year-old living for the weekend, I didn’t ownership of the why behind it. I thought watching short spurts (which reflected more on me than them) of acrobatics executed by male and female performers with both surgical enhancements and natural gifts could permanently take the place of genuine intimacy forged with a real partner.

What started as a weekend thing with the sound off and the blinds closed became more and more of a wide-open, sound-no-higher-than-twelve (I had to show some restraint for Christ’s sake), IDGAF, who-would-notice-me-anyway thing. I can’t tell you how many hours I wasted on porn rather than creating or consuming something of real value to the person I could become. Porn was a nasty reminder of what they always say about potential: It just means you haven’t done it yet. I knew that those who acted in and sent it out into the world didn’t give a damn about me, but the real tragedy was that I didn’t give a damn about myself. I often wonder who I’d be, and what I would have accomplished by now if I’d stopped my recidivistic porn use a long time ago, but that’s in the past, and time waits for no man as it marches on. I have a much better idea now of who I was and who I want to be.

At least that’s what I tell myself until a clip of a video I watched one Monday morning, or Wednesday night (what’s the difference) flashes through my dreams. I don’t care as much about the actresses’ measurements or what she was doing in the clip as much as I do being able to see her face, but having no idea what her name is. You’re nobody if nobody’s watching.

The intellectual part of me takes over. I become obsessed with finding her name, or at least what she calls herself in front of the camera. Intellectual curiosity, or so I say, leads me back down a rabbit hole I’d fought for so long to climb out of. Urges win the minutes. My streak ends quickly and has to start all over again, way back at zero.

At least I found out her name’s Britney. With one t and an e.

If I ever woke up feeling less hardcore, or less like dwelling on some perceived slight from my past, no matter how recent or distant, I’d tap the thumbnail of a popular site for posting video clips that came pre-installed on my phone. If it was already there before I even bought the damn thing, that means it was supposed to be, and I was supposed to use it. Besides, its a library of largely short clips that only take five, seven or ten minutes to watch. I need this information if I’m going to be able to seamlessly work references from an episode of an animated show that originally aired twenty-five years ago into current conversation. I need to be able to quickly recall the hardest college football hits of all time if I’m going to have a shot at being accepted during Monday morning water cooler talk with no one in particular during the season. I need to know why women reject men or the benefits of making a schedule and sticking to it. It’s okay. Britney doesn’t even have to know.

They’re just minutes. I’m still young. My hair hasn’t even started to go gray. There’s still time. There will always be. Time’s my friend. Blah Blah Blah.

At the end of the day, all of my excuses were lies. Whether they stemmed from negative emotions like anger or regret, or destructive behaviors like watching porn or too many other, non-explicit videos. It didn’t matter. It still doesn’t. I spent too long avoiding resistance. I’d talk about putting in the work, but at the core of my being, I wasn’t into it. I’d have much rather had someone tell me what to do with my minutes instead of holding myself accountable for how I chose to use them. I was the greatest thief of my own creative space, not a video clip, or a performer with fake tits or a nine-inch cock.

Me.

I can’t get the lost minutes back, but I can turn my back on Neverland, and ask myself “What if I could,” instead of saying, “This is why I can’t.”

525,600 minutes? How about the rest of a lifetime? Not given away, but carefully measured. One second at a time. I’ll take that any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

0 notes

hotvideo · 7 years

Photo

RUSH IT (1977)

COMEDY LEGEND HENNY “TAKE MY WIFE, PLEASE” YOUNGMAN HAS A SON NAMED GARY. I’M GONNA GO OUT ON A LIMB AND SAY THAT GARY WAS ONE OF THOSE FREE-SPIRITED CELEBRITY KIDS OF THE 1960s/70s, YOU KNOW THE KIND. AN AGITATOR, EVER PLAYING HIS PAN FLUTE FOR THE PEOPLE, JUST HIM AND HIS TRUST FUND AGAINST THE WORLD. THE WORLD, IN GARY’S CASE, WAS NEW YORK CITY. BUT OFF-OFF BROADWAY WASN’T HIS BAG, SO GARY CROSSED OVER INTO FILMMAKING. OLD MAN YOUNGMAN GAVE HIM THE GREEN LIGHT, LINED UP THE FINANCIERS AND GARY SHOT RUSH IT WITH ALL HIS NEW YORK ACTOR FRIENDS, IN HOPES OF USING THE MATERIAL LIKE A 78-MINUTE TALENT REEL. THE CAST INCLUDES FUTURE HOLLYWOOD HEAVYWEIGHTS LIKE TOM BERENGER (THE BIG CHILL), JOHN HEARD (CUTTER’S WAY) AND JILL EIKENBERRY (TV’s “L.A. LAW”). AFTER VIACOM ACQUIRED RIGHTS TO THE FILM, RUSH IT PLAYED A LOT ON MOVIE CHANNELS LIKE SHOWTIME. THE SOLE VIDEO RELEASE OF RUSH IT CAME IN THE FORM OF A BIG OL’ CLAMSHELL VHS FROM UNICORN VIDEO, MARKETED AFTER TOM BERENGER’S CAREER TOOK OFF. I TRACKED DOWN A COPY OF THE TAPE AT EDDIE BRANDT’S SATURDAY MATINEE.

RUSH IT IS ABOUT A CAREFREE FEMALE BIKE MESSENGER (JUDY KAHAN) MAKING HER WAY IN THE CITY. SHE’S GOT THAT QUASI-ANNOYING ANNIE HALL THING GOING ON, IF A LITTLE MORE JEWISH AND, WELL, BASICALLY HARMLESS BECAUSE SHE’S IN HER TWENTIES AND ISN’T ANYONE’S MOTHER YET. SHE RIDES AROUND MANHATTAN IN A DUMB HAT, SMILING AT EVERYTHING WHILE BUZZY LINHART’S EBULLIENT SONGS BLAST OVER THE SOUNDTRACK. COULD BE WORSE. I MEAN, THE WORLD DIDN’T COMPLETELY SUCK BACK THEN. SURE, WE THOUGHT IT DID. OH, DID WE EVER! WE THOUGHT IT WAS OVER, MAN. THE SIXTIES WERE OVER. THE SIXTIES WERE GREAT! THE SEVENTIES WERE FAR WORSE. THESE WERE THE POST-WATERGATE YEARS. NEW YORK WAS ONE BROKE-ASS TOILET, AND YET IT WAS KIND OF MAGICAL, TOO.

DISCLAIMER: NO ONE WHO APPEARS IN RUSH IT WAS EVER A BIKE MESSENGER. REAL BIKE MESSENGERS DON’T KICK THEIR FEET UP WHILE TRAVERSING DANGEROUS METROPOLITAN TERRAIN, THEY RUN RED LIGHTS, FLIP STRANGERS THE BIRD AND DRINK FORTIES IN THE PARK. IF ANYONE HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT THAT, A GANG OF THESE CATS WILL APPEAR OUT OF NOWHERE, UNBUCKLE THE SEATBELT STRAPS ON THEIR MESSENGER BAGS, MOVE FOR THEIR CHAIN WALLETS AND REENACT A SCENE FROM THE ‘96 X-GAMES. REMEMBER PUCK FROM MTV’s “THE REAL WORLD”? THAT’S A FUCKING BIKE MESSENGER! INCORRIGIBLE, UNREPENTANT B.Y.O.B. PUNKHOUSE SNOTROCKET RASCALS.

“How ‘bout a date tonight, bimbo?”

THIS LUNATIC PLAYS THE PERVED-OUT DISPATCHER AT THE MESSENGER SERVICE. APPARENTLY JOE SPINELL WAS NOT AVAILABLE FOR THE ROLE, SO GARY CAST SOME ELEVATOR MAN WITH A CHECKERED PAST INVOLVING MANY INCIDENTS OF PUBLIC MASTURBATION. HE’S THE MOST AUTHENTIC SLICE OF THE APPLE IN THIS TURKEY. WHY CAN’T THE MOVIE BE ABOUT HIS TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS? LET’S FOLLOW HIM AROUND WHILE HE’S HAGGLING OVER THE PRICE OF A PAPAYA AT HIS LOCAL BODEGA OR CHECKING OUT THE SNATCH ON 42nd STREET.

HERE’S TOM BERENGER DOING HIS BEST BOTICELLI POSE FOR SOME LITTLE CHINA GIRL. BERENGER’S CHARACTER IS A STALLION WHO PREYS ON CITY CHICKS WITH HIS LOOKS, ESCHEWING ALL STRINGS IN THE CLASSIC LOVE ‘EM AND LEAVE ‘EM STYLE. HIS PREFERENCE, ADMITTEDLY, IS FOR “MORE MATURE WOMEN... ESPECIALLY MARRIED ONES.” YEP, IN THE END, HE’S JUST A GIGOLO. OH, BUT WHAT HE REALLY WANTS TO BE IS A FAMOUS PAINTER!

BERENGER TRIES TO PICK UP JUDY, BUT SHE’S HIP TO HIS ACT AND SPEEDS OFF ON HER BIANCHI. THEN SHE BUMPS INTO AN OLD BOYFRIEND, SOME SUIT WITH A FOXY ITALIAN BROAD ON HIS ARM. JUDY CALLS HIM A HEEL AND KEEPS ON PUSHING. SHE DELIVERS SOME SHIT TO SOME ECCENTRIC IDIOTS, INCLUDING A DRUGGED-OUT TALENT AGENT (ANTHONY HOLLAND, ALL THAT JAZZ) AND GAGGLE OF SUFFRAGETTES WHO’VE BEEN CRYOGENICALLY FROZEN IN A GREENWICH VILLAGE APARTMENT SINCE 1917. JUDY TAKES A BREAK AND GOES HOME. HER PAD HAS SOME FABULOUS TOKENS OF SEVENTIES SINGLE GIRL CHIC, INCLUDING HANGING HOUSE PLANTS, CINDER BLOCK BOOK SHELVES AND FRAMED PICTURES OF JANE AUSTIN. SHE RECEIVES A VISIT FROM HER NEIGHBOR, BYRON (JOHN HEARD), WHO’S JAZZED ON SOME GIRL HE JUST MET. JUDY AND BYRON ARE PLATONIC FRIENDS BECAUSE JUDY, WE’RE LEARNING, IS KIND OF A DYKE; NOT SO MUCH IN THE SEXUAL SENSE, BUT IN THE CULTURAL ONE. SHE’S TOTALLY FINE BEING ONE OF THE GUYS UNTIL THE RIGHT ONE COMES ALONG.

THE SUMMER I EXCAVATED RUSH IT FROM THE TOMB-LIKE STACKS AT EDDIE BRANDT’S, I WAS OBSESSED WITH THE ACTOR JOHN HEARD’S EARLY CAREER. IT STARTED WHEN I SAW HIM IN CHILLY SCENES OF WINTER, THEN GREW WITH BETWEEN THE LINES AND CUTTER’S WAY, THEN CONTINUED ON THROUGH A SLEW OF EXEMPLARY ROLES IN NOT-SO-GREAT FLICKS LIKE FIRST LOVE, ON THE YARD, BEST REVENGE, HEART BEAT, AND CAT PEOPLE. DUDE HAD CHOPS, CHARM AND AN IRRESISTIBLY SELF-EFFACING WIT. BY THE TIME HE WAS CAST AS JACK KEROUAC IN HEART BEAT, STARRING OPPOSITE NICK NOLTE AND SISSY SPACEK, HEARD WAS WELL ON HIS WAY TO BECOMING A LEADING MAN. BUT I SUSPECT HE NEVER FELT COMFORTABLE WITH THE HOLLYWOOD MACHINE, HAVING COME OUT OF THE LESS BULLSHIT-Y WORLD OF NEW YORK THEATER. IN THE EARLY EIGHTIES, HEARD ATE AND DRANK HIMSELF OUT OF THE RUNNING. THANKS TO THIS SELF-SABOTAGE, TODAY HEARD IS BEST KNOWN TO THE IDIOTS WHO COMPRISE 99% OF THE MOVIE-GOING PUBLIC FOR PLAYING MACAULEY CULKIN’S DAD IN THE HOME ALONE FLICKS.

BYRON INVITES JUDY TO SOME GET-TOGETHER AT HIS GIRLFRIEND’S PAD. MERRILL (JILL EIKENBERRY) IS A SECRETARY, ER, ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT WHO’S REAL HUNG UP ON THAT POST-ROTHKO ABSTRACT SHIT AND ITS MARK ON THE THEN-EMERGING BOURGEOIS HOBBY KNOWN AS DECORATING. FROM THIS INTRODUCTION ONWARD, WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT BYRON SEES IN MERRILL. HE SHOULD REALLY JUST GO FOR JUDY, WHO WEARS OVERALLS TO PARTIES AND IS CLEARLY A GAS.

JUDY MEETS A CHARMING 28-YEAR-OLD JEW NAMED MARK, WHO’S, OF ALL THINGS, A DENTIST. WOW! EDGY! SO THIS GUY STARTS PULLING A LOT OF NUMBERS WITH JUDY, AND SHE’S KINDA DIGGIN’ IT. THEY MINGLE AND GET COZY. THE COMBINATION OF GOD’S EYE AND CARLO ROSSI IN THE ABOVE FRAME IS FABULOUS.

MARK’S “BLEEPER” GOES OFF, AN EMERGENCY BACK AT THE OFFICE, AND HE LEAVES JUDY WITH A SEMI.

THEN MERRILL MENTIONS TO JUDY THAT MARK IS MARRIED. JUDY’S LOOKING GOOOOOOD IN THOSE OVERALLS, AIN’T SEE? I WONDER IF LENA DUNHAM EVER SAW THIS MOVIE.

THE NEXT MORNING, BYRON COMES OVER TO GET A RECAP OF JUDY’S EVENING. THE USZH, SHE’S STILL 25 AND SINGLE.

THIS IS WHAT A DOOR IS SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE. IF YOU’RE UNDER 30 AND THE DOORWAY OF YOUR BIG CITY APARTMENT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE THIS, YOU’RE WASTING YOUR PARENT’S MONEY. THIS BARE BONES ASSEMBLAGE IS ALL YOU NEED TO PARTY LIKE A TRUE BELIEVER: OLD TERMITE-INFESTED WOOD PAINTED A MILLION TIMES OVER, QUESTIONABLY SECURE, DIRTY AND DELIGHTFUL. MY OLD SPOT LOOKED LIKE THIS. THEN I MOVED. NOW, FOR A MERE $1,000 MORE A MONTH, I GOT ONE OF THEM NEW CHINESE JOBS MADE OUT OF RECYCLED AMERICAN REFUSE AND PARTICLE BOARD, PLASTIC WINDOW SLATS FROM HOME DEPOT (ALSO MADE IN CHINA!), THE WHOLE PATHETIC PACKAGE.

BYRON’S NEW GIRL STARTS GETTING UPPITY ABOUT BYRON’S ASSOCIATION WITH JUDY. JUST WHAT TYPE OF PERSON CHOOSES TO BECOME A BIKE MESSENGER, PRAY TELL? BYRON REVEALS JUDY HAS HER MASTER’S DEGREE, SHE’S JUST DOING THE BIKE GIG COS HER DEGREE IS TOTALLY WORTHLESS AND IT’S FUN RIDING A BIKE IN A CITY YOU CAN SMILE AT COS YOU REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT ALL MEN ARE RAPISTS, DESPITE CONVENTIONAL WISDOM AND SECOND WAVE FEMINISM STATING OTHERWISE.

BACK AT THE BIKE SHOP, THESE TWO JOES PRACTICE THEIR HIGH NOTES FOR SOME FUTURE “CATS” AUDITION.

JUDY SPOTS BUZZY LINHART BUSKING. ALRIGHT! BUZZY KNOWS WHERE IT’S AT.

BERENGER FINALLY GETS THE BEST OF JUDY. HE WRITES HIS NUMBER ON HER BACK AND TELLS HER TO CALL HIM. THAT NIGHT, SHE HAS TO READ IT IN A MIRROR AND INVERT THE DIGITS. TWICE SHE CALLS THE WRONG NUMBER, FIRST IT’S SOME PEPE PERSON AND THEN A PHILIPINO WITH CATFISH WHISKERS. SO JUDY AND BERENGER GO OUT AND BALL. PRETTY SOON, THEY’RE AN ITEM.

BERENGER SHOWS JUDY HIS WORK. HE’S INTERRUPTED BY THE TELEPHONE. IT’S TOM’S OF FINLAND CALLING, ASKING WHERE THE SAILOR’S CAP WENT.

BERENGER TELLS JUDY A BUNCH OF SHIT ABOUT WHAT A SHITTY, SELF-ABSORBED PERSON HE IS -- JUST A SLAVE TO THE MUSE, MAN. BUT HE’S A STALLION, SO JUDY DIGS HIS FEARLESS HONESTY AND ACCEPTS BERENGER IN SPITE OF HIS MANY SHORTCOMINGS.

BERENGER ALSO TELLS JUDY HE’S BROKE AND MIGHT BE MOVING TO PENNSYLVANIA TO LIVE ON A FARM WITH AN AMISH COUPLE HE MET AT NIAGARA FALLS. THAT IS, UNLESS JUDY WILL LET HIM MOVE HIS ART STUDIO INTO HER APARTMENT.

MORE SUPERFLUOUS BERENGER PORN.

JUDY BUMPS INTO BYRON OUTSIDE THEIR BUILDING. HE’S WEARING A SUIT, WHICH INDICATES HE HAS A REAL JOB, PROBABLY IN AN OFFICE WHERE THE EXECS WITH THE GRAYING SIDEBURNS DRINK ALL DAY AND GRAB-ASS WITH THE LITTLE CHIQUITAS IN THE TYPING POOL.

BACK AT HER PLACE, JUDY RAPS TO BYRON ABOUT HER NEW STUD AND HOW TO KEEP HIM. BYRON SUGGESTS A FAKE PREGNANCY.

THEN, APROPOS OF NOTHING, BYRON DOES A REALLY BAD BRANDO IMPRESSION. THIS IS IN NO WAY INDICATIVE OF JOHN HEARD’S TALENT AS AN ACTOR.

BERENGER COMES OVER AND STARTS MOVING JUDY’S STUFF AROUND. JUDY DIGS BERENGER’S TAKE-CHARGE ATTITUDE.

BYRON AND MERRILL HELP MOVE THE REST OF BERENGER’S SHIT OVER. JUDY, MEANWHILE, IS GROWING WARY OF BERENGER’S OPPORTUNISM.

THE NEXT EVENING, BYRON AND MERRILL INVITE JUDY AND BERENGER OVER FOR SUPPER. BERENGER WEARS SOME GONDOLIER’S SHIRT WITH A FUCKING POCKET ON THE ARM FOR HIS SMOKES. AFTER SOME WINE, MERRILL STARTS HITTING ON BERENGER. SHE ASKS HIM IF HE’LL DIG HER PAINTINGS AND LET HER KNOW WHAT HE THINKS. THEY REALLY SUCK. NO ONE SAYS THAT, BUT OF COURSE THEY DO. THEN MERRILL ASKS BERENGER IF HE GIVES PRIVATE LESSONS.

BACK AT WORK, JUDY DELIVERS SOME FILM TO A CASTING AGENCY. THE MANIAC WHO RUNS THE PLACE FLIRTS WITH JUDY. I DON’T KNOW WHY THIS SCENE IS IN THE MOVIE, EXCEPT TO FLESH OUT ITS ALREADY TOO-SHORT RUNNING TIME.

AT HEADQUARTERS, JUDY JOKES AROUND WITH THE HORNY DISPATCHER, WHO SAYS HE WON’T ASK HER OUT ANYMORE SINCE HE KNOWS JUDY’S BERENGER’S OLD LADY.

WE GET TO SEE BERENGER RUSH IT A BIT, TOO. HE DELIVERS A PACKAGE TO SOME OFFICE, WHERE AN OLDER, STILL-FOXY SECRETARY REPEATEDLY ASKS HIM WHAT SHE CAN DO FOR HIM. ALL HE NEEDS IS HER SIGNATURE, BUT HE ASKS HER OUT FOR AN EGG McMUFFIN. GUESS WHO’S BUYING?

THEN BERENGER CRASHES SOME ART OPENING, APPROACHING THE OWNER OF THE GALLERY WITH HIS SLIDES IN TOW LIKE A TOTAL ASSHOLE. THE OWNER TELLS BERENGER HE’LL HAVE TO SPEAK TO HIS WIFE (CHRISTINA PICKLES, THE WEDDING SINGER), WHO, IN FACT, RUNS THE GALLERY.

WHEN THE GALLERY GASH FEASTS HER EYES ON BERENGER, SHE QUICKLY STARTS ASKING ABOUT HIS WORK AND ITS DIMENSIONS.

WHEN SHE’S SATISFIED, THEY MAKE A DATE FOR A STUDIO VISIT.

BERENGER RETURNS TO JUDY’S PAD ELATED WITH THE GOOD NEWS. JUDY’S HAPPY FOR HIM, BUT ALSO KIND OF BUMMED THAT HE DIDN’T TAKE HER TO THE OPENING.

JUDY AND BYRON HAVE A CHAT ON THE WAY TO THE LAUNDROMAT. BYRON REVEALS THAT HE’S PLANNING TO BREAK UP WITH MERRILL.

WHILE JUDY’S OUT DOING HER OLD MAN’S WHITES, SAID OLD MAN SLAVES AWAY IN THE STUDIO THAT USED TO BE JUDY’S APARTMENT. DIG BOWIE’S PINUPS IN THE THE BACKGROUND!

BERENGER RECEIVES AN UNEXPECTED VISIT FROM MERRILL, WHO’S BEEN SUNBATHING ON THE ROOF. SHE ASKS BERENGER IF SHE CAN WATCH HIM PAINT. HE TELLS HER TO COME BACK WHEN IT’S A BETTER TIME TO PARTY, HE’S ON A DEADLINE.

JUDY AND BERENGER GRAB SOME MALTS AND PARK IT ON THE CURB. THE LIGHT’S REAL NICE AND THE WIND’S BLOWING SOFTLY, MAKING THE SCENE PLAY MORE NATURAL THAN THE OTHERS. IF I WAS ONE OF THESE TWO PEOPLE, I’D CHOOSE THIS SCENE FOR MY ACTING REEL.

WHEN JUDY TELLS BERENGER THAT BYRON’S CUTTING MERRILL LOOSE, HE ISN’T SUPRISED. HE TELLS JUDY HE’LL NEVER LET SOME CHICK COME BETWEEN HIM AND HIS PAINTING.

“Don’t EVER buy me a strawberry shake again. I said VANILLA.”

BERENGER PICKS A CONVENIENT TIME FOR THE GALLERY GASH TO STOP BY -- i.e. WHEN JUDY AIN’T AROUND. SHE DIGS BERENGER’S WORK AND BEGS FOR A CLOSER LOOK.

JUDY AND HER GIRLFRIEND FROM THE MESSENGER OFFICE (HARRIETT HALL) GET TOGETHER IN THE PARK TO RAP ABOUT BOYS AND WHAT HEELS THEY ARE.

WHEN JUDY GETS HOME, SHE FINDS BYRON MOROSE AND CARRYING A BOX OF MERRILL’S SHIT TO DELIVER BACK TO HER. BYRON ASKS JUDY IF SHE’LL COME WITH HIM.

WHEN THEY GET TO MERRILL’S, BYRON TELLS JUDY HER COMING WITH HIM WAS JUST A PLOY TO GET HER TO ACTUALLY DELIVER THE SHIT HERSELF SO BYRON WON’T HAVE TO SUFFER THE AGONY OF SEEING MERRILL’S STUPID FACE ONE MORE TIME. JUDY, EVER THE GOOD SPORT, OBLIGES HIM.

“Oh... it’s you. Where’s Byron? OH. Okay. Well, can you tell him he still owes me $4.37 for his portion of the Con Ed bill from July? Thanks!”

AS JUDY AND BYRON RETURN TO THEIR BUILDING, THE GALLERY GASH IS JUST LEAVING.

B-B-BUSTED! WHEN JUDY ENTERS THE PAD, BERENGER’S IN THE PROCESS OF CHANGING HIS SHIRT TO ONE NOT SOAKED IN SWEAT AND SCENTED VAGINAL OILS. HE TELLS JUDY HE GOT THE SHOW. SUDDENLY, WITH THE HELP OF A SHORT FLASHBACK, JUDY KNOWS THE SCORE.

AFTER A LONG, CATHARTIC RIDE AROUND THE CITY, JUDY VISITS THE GALLERY WHERE BERENGER’S GONNA HAVE HIS SHOW. THE PAINTINGS IN THE BACKGROUND REMINDS ME A LOT OF THE KIND OF WORK ALAN BATES’ CHARACTER MADE IN AN UNMARRIED WOMAN, OR THAT ARTIST JEREMY BLAKE WHO ESSENTIALLY MADE THE SAME KIND OF SHIT IN THE EARLY 2000s, ALBEIT DIGITALLY, BEFORE HIS TRAGIC DOUBLE-SUICIDE WITH HIS CRAZY WIFE AFTER THEY DID TOO MUCH COCAINE AND CONVINCED THEMSELVES THEY WERE BEING HUNTED BY THE CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY. IF THIS REVIEW HAS TAUGHT YOU ANYTHING, IT’S THAT I KNOW FAR TOO MUCH BULLSHIT ABOUT CONTEMPORARY ART AND NOT ENOUGH ABOUT MAKING LOVE. ANYWAY, JUDY WINS.

SHE GOES FOR ONE LAST DELIVERY. ONCE AGAIN, BUZZY LINHART’S MUSIC COMES ALONG FOR THE RIDE.

FINALLY, BYRON TELLS JUDY HE’S FOUND THE PERFECT GUY FOR HER: IT’S BYRON!!! WELL, ALRIGHT! JUDY LAUGHS. HARD. THE END.

#vhs #annie hall #unicorn video #70s new york #bike messengers

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greg38mcall · 7 years

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The 2018 IKEA Catalog: Items iHeart!

Some folks go gaga for the recent Nordstrom Anniversary sale, while others count the days to the release of the best home catalog of the year. #thatsme #IKEAcatalogcraze

I have been stalking my mailbox daily starting the first week in August with great anticipation of the colorful and idea filled pages. The annual IKEA catalog is a reliable page turner, filled to the brim with eye candy and small space storage solutions galore. The moment the catalog touched my hands, I pulled out the page flags and post-it notes and flipped through all 326 pages. I marked everything that caught my eye and then went through all of the pages a second time. And then also checked out all of the new for 2018 inventory online as well. I receive a lot of home related catalogs throughout the year, many of which provide me with ideas and color inspiration, but none seem to be as exciting as this one? Come to think of it, I never know when any other catalog will just pop into my mail pile, so is it the once per year release that just builds and builds the anticipation? What about it generates so much internal excitement?! The prices? The storage ideas? The lived in styling? Whatever it is, I do these posts annually (you can check out last year's post here). And I am always questioned if they are sponsored but unfortunately for me, they are not. This is just me picking out my favorite new IKEA products and sharing a little bit about why each one made my list.

So much pretty, right? And that is just the beginning! Let's dive deeper and look at all 30 items that caught my attention. Oh! And after pulling everything from the IKEA site to put all of this together, I realized that I duplicated a few items from last year. There are definitely products that repeat from year to year in the catalog, and apparently, I reeeeaaaalllly liked a few specific things. Can you guess which ones they are? And hint, I purchased one of the items twice already for around our home, so there's that...

EKET CUBES // These would be really great nightstands in a boy's bedroom. Great storage/display space and I especially love the wooden leg detailing. STOCKHOLM TRAY // Trays are great for organizing collections around the home and this walnut option comes in such a wonderful finish. I can picture it on the counter with cooking condiments or on a coffee table with remotes and greenery. KLIPSK BED TRAY // I believe this is actually an old product, and I am wondering how I missed it. This tray could be so convenient in so many ways. From working from the sofa or in the car to eating breakfast in bed, it definitely could serve a variety of purposes... And it is especially fantastic that it includes a groove to hold techy gadgets. STOCKHOLM CABINET // Woven storage that is sophisticated, modern and brings so much warmth into a space. GODMORGON BOXES // Product repeat number one, these acrylic storage boxes work on shelves and in drawers and are ideal for toiletries and small household items. Simple, stylish and versatile always wins! STOCKHOLM OTTOMAN // I have had the opportunity to see this item in stores, and I was shocked at how heavy and substantial it is. It is decorative and soft and a really great option for kids and resting tired feet. STOCKHOLM VASE // Blue, beautiful and about as brilliant as can be. And what is that you say? It can also be flipped and act as a tealight holder? I'll take two! FÄRLÖV SOFA // Can we talk about the single seat cushion for a minute? I am not sure I can pull together the words to describe how much admiration I have for this sofa. How nice to only have one seat cushion for lounging and snuggling! Plus, it is slip-covered, streamlined (those arms!) and a really great price. RÅSKOG STOOL // These stools could work in just about any kitchen that is in need of a extra counter seating. They have great lines and the black color is perfect for adding just the right amount of drama that every kitchen desires. GLATTIS COASTERS // A beautiful brass finish that would look chic on a counter, coffee table or desk! Yes, please! BILLY BOOKCASE // This is product number two on the duplication list. I just love it that much! Navy is pretty much my favorite color on the planet, so to see such a stunning navy cabinet with glass doors? I can't help but picture these being built-in wall-to-wall somewhere with some dazzling hardware. Someone get on that and then send me the pictures, OK? KUBBIS HOOKS // I absolutely adore the simplicity in this rail of hooks. It could easily be painted to match any room or decor, or left white because that works everywhere too! Garage for cleaning tools and yard supplies? Check. Bathroom for towels? Check. Entryway for jackets and backpacks? Check and check! FLÅDIS BASKET // DING DING DING! Purchased two of these storage baskets last year and could go back for even more. They are light weight, fit on shelves or on the floor and can be decorated in endless darling ways. They really have become my favorite storage baskets for so many household items and purposes. KARTOTEK HOOK // I am really into hooks that have attached labels! If you think about it, one single item allows you to conquer two organizing tasks at once! PUDDA BASKET // I "felt" this was a good pick because it has special brass details!

TUVALIE THROW // Ikea's throw blanket game is generally pretty strong, and this striped and fringed version does not disappoint! KORKEN JARS // Jars like this work great in bathrooms, craft rooms, and offices. But I sort of want to pick up a set and make some jelly and jam and yogurt parfaits for our weekly Sunday brunch. TILLAGD FLATWARE // All I can say about this is, FINALLY! I don't think brass is going anywhere anytime soon, so it is great to see IKEA recognize this in the kitchen. SKUGGIS HOOK // These don't look like traditional hooks which is 100% why they caught my eye. And I am guessing the wood finish would bring a wonderful natural element to any room. FÄRGRIK DINNERWARE // This dinnerware is such a bold color and it would be a really fun mix with another dinnerware item I am about to talk about in 3...2...1... FABRIKÖR CABINET // I picture this cute little cabinet in a bathroom stocked with towels and daily grooming essentials. It would definitely be a great way to elevate the items that generally just clutter up a small space. ENERYDA CABINET PULL // Very PotteryBarn-esque, these beauties also come in a great polished nickel or black finish. TILLSTÄLLNING NAPKIN // Did I really add $2 paper napkins to my list? Why yes I did! Think playdates, picnics, and parties; you can't beat the price and they have a way of taking the table up a notch with absolutely zero effort required. INTAGANDE CARAFE // I love everything I picked for this round-up, but this carafe is really high on my list. Except, I have zero need for another carafe. I use these lovelies for bedtime water and sometimes as vases and on the table at breakfast and dinner and this particular option comes in a pretty pink! #sigh BEHAGA BOWL // Now picture this bowl with the dinnerware I mentioned above. The combo would make for a talked-about tabletop. I absolutely love the organic patterns and swirls in each piece! And even better, there are also coordinating plates! MYRHEDEN FRAME // My college-aged self would have done just about anything to sport something this cool on her walls. And now IKEA is here to make sure every dorm room and teenage bedroom is always on point. DRAGAN BOXES // Although you think you are purchasing a set of two, the lids become trays so you get double the storage! And that wood tone pulls at my heart once again. Not only are these boxes good looking, they could work hard in the living room for tech and cords, in the office for bulky supplies, in the bathroom for toiletries and counter clutter or in a bedroom as a charging station or jewelry organizer. GURLI PILLOW COVER // I believe that blush pink can be considered a neutral. Try and name a single color that it doesn't pair well with... Yep, I couldn't think of one either. BAGGANÄS PULLS // I am BAGGANÄS for these pulls (see what I did there?). They have optional washers that really elevate the look and they also come in a few different finishes. My boys love black hardware and I can already think of a couple of pieces in their spaces that these would compliment nicely. PAX WARDROBE // I know that the PAX system is far from new. In fact, we have one of the combinations in our home already. But what is newer is the fact that they now offer shorter frames which could fit the seven-foot ceiling height in our dressing room! And even better is that they also offer some really great new doors. And endless interior fittings and organizers. My organizing obsessed brain is in overdrive just thinking about how much this system would change our daily routines for the better. Pennies are officially being saved. Come to mama, PAX. I promise to give you a good home!

__________

This is always such a fun post to write! But now for my very favorite part which is hearing all about your IKEA selections this year. Do you also spend a few hours of quiet happy time flipping through the pages over and over again? What did you flag, circle and star? Or have you already gone right to the store to snag something new and fabulous for your home? I would love to know if there is something else I should add to my love list! Psssst! IKEA does not sponsor or pay me for these posts. It is just annual fun for me and you! from IHeart Organizing http://www.iheartorganizing.com/2017/08/the-2018-ikea-catalog-items-iheart.html

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raystart · 7 years

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A Driver’s License Can be Revoked for the Elderly, but Artistic License? Never.

She was due for retirement. Try telling her that.

Louise Fili, the designer behind logos for Tiffany & Co., Good Housekeeping, Paperless Post, and Sarabeth’s was, as always, a font of great ideas. “I think you should be focusing on the great octogenarians out there — Seymour Chwast, George Lois, Ed Sorel, R.O. Blechman, Bob Gill, Henrietta Condak, Sara Giovanitti…there are so many,” she said in her graceful decline to be a part of this story. “I will be happy to participate when you update the article in, say, 20 years.” Fili is 65, the touchstone — albeit arbitrary — retirement age. Time will tell. But that’s an offer she can make confidently.

Artists exist in careers without reply-all emails about the break room fridge, or dress codes, or — and most importantly — without punch clocks. They are timeless talents.

In 1972, at 90 years old, Pablo Picasso painted “Facing Death,” a self-portrait; he died the next year, having painted since 1891, when he was 9. I.M. Pei, the architect, is set to turn 100 this year as he works on 28 projects in six countries; he’s been working since his designs first caught fire in 1949. “I know how lucky I am,” Roger Angell, then 93, wrote in The New Yorker in 2014, “and secretly tap wood, greet the day, and grab a sneaky pleasure from my survival at long odds.” He has been contributing to the august magazine since 1944, most recently about the Chicago Cubs’ World Series victory, their 108-year championship drought being one of the few things in this world that predate him.

Now 94, Norman Lear is rebooting his 1975 sitcom classic One Day at a Time for Netflix, a Latina spin anchored by Rita Moreno, the 85-year-old EGOT superstar, who plays a 73-year-old sexualized grandmother. Hayao Miyazaki, the anime demigod, has came out of retirement to turn a 12-minute short film titled into a feature-length project, as you do at 76 years old.

There is an element to vocation beyond Western raison d’être, the French “reason for being” mired in Enlightenment sensibilities, that approaches the looser Japanese concept of ikigai, which can be translated as “a reason to get up in the morning” but was best described in a 1990 article in the Japanese business publication The Nikkei (formerly The Nihon Kaizai Shinbun) as “the process of allowing the self’s possibilities to bloom.” That process is itself a craft. Sorry, Tim Ferriss, there is no Four-Hour Ikigai.

These are all-work-and-all-play lives lived in the livelihood of humanity’s lifeblood: art, creativity, design. “To create is to live twice,” Albert Camus famously mused. While that wisdom may have been a gesture at the metaphysical immortality of fame and legacy and the stuff of lifetime achievement awards, it can also be taken literally as the doubling — or more — of creative professional lives as compared to the workaday world’s corporate drones, to say nothing of the relatively fleeting glories afforded professional athletes, dancers, and porn stars. A driver’s license can be revoked for the elderly, but artistic license? Never.

“To create is to live twice.”

“It’s not about doing something well over and over. It’s about doing something new over and over,” said Ivan Chermayeff, the 84-year-old graphic designer behind iconic logos for Barneys, Mobil, National Geographic, NBC, and the Smithsonian. “People who want to retire want to do other things. Travel. Plant a garden. I don’t. I’ve been doing those things every day my whole life. It’s a good racket,” he added from his office, with Wally, his Australian labradoodle barking in agreement at his feet.

Ivan Chermayeff, image courtesy of Chermayeff.

Chermayeff noted the physical costs of activity outweigh the mental and emotional costs of lethargy. “I have a bad knee but thankfully it has very little bearing on graphic design abilities,” he said.

“I was a professor, a teacher. I just stayed in offices. It was awful,” said the prolific architect Daniel Libeskind, 70. “I have lived in reverse, my active period coming after the introspective, reflective period. With architecture, I fell into a new dimension. I made my first building when I was 52! Instead of withering me, time gave me a sense of flowering, of growing. To be honest, I don’t think of aging. There is an immortality to being creative. You are like God, who is the poetic symbol of creation, the poetry of creativity. As your work continues, you become younger. You discover youthfulness — braver, bolder, more confident, more adventurous. You discover possibilities.”

Daniel Libeskind at the Roca London Gallery. Photo courtesy of Libeskind.

Not that it’s easy. “You have to make a conscious decision early on that the suburbs and its finished basements aren’t for you. I had an illegal apartment for ten years, 1971 to 1981, $50 a month in a garret at 55th and 7th. I paid another $50 a month for a work space. So I was free,” said Larry Hama, 67, the comics superhero who single-handedly revived the series G.I. Joe and Wolverine, among other feats. “I’ve had years without any work. But I still did what I wanted. The only difference is I got paid during the working years, which was nice, but it wasn’t the reason I worked.”

There are, of course, life hacks to this Fountain of Youth.

For Libeskind, it is thermodynamics: A body in motion stays in motion. “I’ve lived in 18 cities,” he said. “Sometimes without knowing the language. Sometimes without having a job. Warsaw, Berlin, New York, São Paolo, Milan. They contribute so much energy to your mind. I’ve never been one for the beach or solitary walks in the woods.”

“As your work continues, you become younger. You discover youthfulness — braver, bolder, more confident, more adventurous.”

For Jonas Mekas, 94, the filmmaker who founded Film Culture magazine in 1954 and what would become the Anthology Film Archives in the 1960s, it is cultivating prickliness — not antisocial, just countersocial. “I was an urchin, a sea urchin, covered in spikes. Society could not swallow me. I did not fall into its holes. And those of us who escape enjoy a camaraderie. We don’t have to talk or get together. But we show other people what life is. We lure them into life with the things we make,” he said.

“You want what? That I go to the beach? I hate the beach. For one thing, it’s hard to get an espresso at the beach. And what is there? Ugly, grotesque people indulging their laziness while they cook and bake in the sun like slugs. That is joy? That is freedom? I don’t blame them for retiring at 65 because they have lived as robots in mechanical, menial, tedious tasks. They deserve a few years trying to feel human after all of that. They took my humanity and my youth in the camps. I was 17 in Lithuania and the next day, on the other end of the war, I was 27 in Brooklyn. I will never lose my youth again. I’ve worked too hard all my life to be this young,” Mekas says.

For abstract artist Carmen Herrera, as she puts it, “my bus was slow in coming.” She first sold her paintings in 2004, when she was 89. But what a ride it has been since then. Last year, at 101 years old, she had her first museum retrospective, at the Whitney Museum of American Art. Her secret is her stealthiness. “I was liberated by being ignored,” she said. “I was free to do as I wish.” Not to suggest too much whimsy; asked her morning routine, she laid out her breakfast: “Cafe con leche, toast, butter and jam, orange juice, and work.” And work. As if it were a chewy bagel or bowl of porridge. She devours it. And it nourishes her. But at her own pace. She takes all week to read the Sunday New York Times, favoring the alchemy of its stories over the checklist of the task. Asked what advice she would give youngsters — y’know, people with mere double-digit ages — she spoke in her native Cuban Spanish: “Patience, darling, patience.”

Carmen Herrera in her New York studio. Image courtesy of Herrera.

For Hama, it was saying yes. “Whenever the train got into the station, I got on board. And wherever it took me, when I got there I didn’t want the guided tour,” he said. “I was in an elevator in 1974 and a woman asked me if I was an actor. I said no and she asked ‘Do you want to be?’ And later that day I was in an off-Broadway production of Moby Dick put together by the starlet Jean Sullivan. I was on M*A*S*H and Saturday Night Live. They needed guys and I raised my hand.”

How do you retire from saying yes? “I can’t imagine retiring, and I have a great imagination,” he said. “If I go to the beach and try that, after an hour or so I just feel inert. Life is for action. Wander. Wonder. Surprise yourself. That’s the only adventure. You can’t win the lottery if you don’t buy a ticket. I’ve done, I think, 239 issues of G.I. Joe and never ended with a coming attractions of the next issue because I never knew. I don’t know what’s on page three until I’m halfway through writing page two. And I guess I’ve lived my life like that, too,” Hama says.

“Life is for action. Wander. Wonder. Surprise yourself. That’s the only adventure.”

When he was a child, Mekas’ home would be visited by an old man who climbed his roof and stood on his head on the chimney. He was 100 years old and his upside-downness had a profound impact on Mekas.

“You’re asking all the wrong questions. You’re asking why I’m active at 94. But why are people living like they are already dead at 60? Or 40? Even 30?” he said. “I am not the abnormal one. I am normal. I am alive. This is life. They are the abnormal ones. They just don’t see it because they happen to be the majority, sadly. They believe in patterns that suck out their energy — ads and transactions and labels and paperwork and technology that all tell them they are not enough, that they are behind, that they are lacking. What is retirement or even vacation except a stupid trap built to justify the first trap of this draining existence? I reject it! Instead I choose art! Art and the avant garde is the difference between making a life and mirroring one.”

#startups #text #startup #advice #busieness #howto #news #tech #love

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masstoafrica1-blog · 7 years

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Training, Funding, and Inbetweens

Well, friends, I'm at training! It's been a long, bumpy, rut-filled road in several ways, and the journey isn't over. Since I last posted, there's been a lot going on, in almost every area of my life. I was able to spend the holidays with my family (who was in town) and several close friends. Over Thanksgiving, my brother's proposed! I had the opportunity to see my Uncle Chris, and tell my extended family about this trip. Over the last few months, I have been overwhelmingly grateful for my friends, both old and new, who have given me so much encouragement and grace. They have supported, strengthened, and taught me. Not the least of which lessons was one of humility and thankfulness. Then, there's fundraising. After my last post, I had an almost inescapable feeling of discouragement and doubt. It seemed like this trip was an impossible dream I had one night. I doubted whether or not God wanted me to go, and wondered if I had imagined all of the assurances of his will thus far. When I initially applied for the trip, and was waiting for a response and what to do if I was accepted, I asked a couple friends who had been to Africa about their individual trips and experiences there. Both conversations were incredibly illuminating and had a huge impact on my decision to join this team. One of these people asked me, "Is there anything you can think of that would stand in the way of you going?" All I could think of was if my application was not accepted. He was surprised. "Really? Nothing? Not even finances?" I thought for a moment, and replied honestly, "No." In the next few months since receiving a spot on this team in August, I remembered many things about these conversations, but none more clearly than that moment. I couldn't figure out how I had gone from complete confidence, to next to none. I entered a dark time in my faith. On the outside, I remained excited and hopeful, but inside I felt stranded. I stopped pushing towards my goals. I stopped praying and reading the Word not long after. I didn't know what was happening in and around me, and I didn't know what to do. I became apathetic, drained, and exhausted, physically, spiritually, and emotionally. I stopped growing closer to God. During all of this, I was rejected twice more for a venue for a spaghetti supper. I ordered T-shirts, which had an awesome reception as an idea, but when they came in, no one bought any. I held a Spirit Night at Chick-Fil-A of Chicopee, and a lot of people came, which encouraged me individually and as a whole. As though to say, "yes, it's possible, and it's real this dream." When I learned the total amount raised that night, I felt grateful, knowing well how every little bit counts, but I also felt worthless, that it may be possible to raise enough, but it would take a miracle. By the middle of November, the only options I really thought I had were to contact churches I knew in the area, and to go door-to-door selling T-shirts and asking for donations. At first, I still received very little response. Then one night I made a number of decisions, the first of which was to pull an all nighter. I had a late shift followed by an early shift, and I didn't trust myself to wake up in time. Plus, I had a lot of things I both wanted and needed to get done, so why not be productive if I'm not going to get much sleep either way? When I got home that night, I checked my pockets and realized that I must have left my phone in my friend's car. I decided to leave it be, I would see her tomorrow, and in the mean time I had my laptop for the online stuff. I gather my supplies in a pile on the bed. In the midst of it I see my Bible and my memory verse packet from my last overseas trip in 2014. I immediately challenge myself to see how many I can remember, and start going through them. After the first couple, they all came flooding back, bringing with them the ways that I applied each to my life on a day to day basis. I start praying in between each card. I lamented everything to God, how discouraged and apathetic I had become, my gratefulness for what had been done, and my fear that it wasn't what he had for me right now or ever. Suddenly, in the midst of this, two sentences entered my mind. "Trust in the Lord. How do you know the time is not now when you have given up so easily?" I finished the packet, and picked up my Bible. I read the beginning chapters of Proverbs, and the ending chapters of Revelation. By the end of that half hour in the Word, I knew what I needed to do. I contacted Amanda, the woman doing all the behind the scenes work for us, and asked what my options were if I did not make the deadline less than a week away. By the end of that week, I had new financial deadlines, and a fire I had never had in any of my previous fundraising. I was still struggling with worry, doubt, and discouragement, but I refused to give up. Things were harder, but better after that change. I started a GoFundMe page, and people gave more than $2000 in one week. In one specific door to door period, a friend and I raised almost $300. In the week following Christmas, I had started a Craigslist account and sold my furniture, and had one last spaghetti supper in the works. This one, thankfully, stuck. The response from the owner of Chick-Fil-A of Chicopee was almost instantaneous. I couldn't believe it was actually going to happen this time. There was barely more than a week to plan it out. In that time, Jackie and I walked the length of Memorial Drive (and beyond!) asking businesses for raffle donations and inviting compete strangers to supper Sunday night. An event was created on Facebook, quick updates were announced, plane tickets were purchased, and several friends and family came alongside to make sure that everything ran smoothly. Smoothly may not be the best word for the last 24 hours before the start of the dinner, but the phrase miraculous wonders works perfectly. A friend and coworker (Shannon) offered her car keys so I could run last minute errands. I was able to have some quality time with my second family, and say goodbye to one of them. There was a catering order that Saturday night that ended with a lot of extra food, which was graciously donated as chicken parm to add to the menu the next night. Jackie's pastor asked for a 1 minute video to play during announcements the next morning. I attended 2 church services Sunday morning, the first of which was LifePoints 8:30 service, where I was quickly brought to tears in worship. During the 15 minutes I could stay for College and Careers, I was able to say goodbye to my friend's, and be amazingly blessed as they prayed me out onto the mission field. The second service was at Cornerstone Church, where the pastor had Jackie and I come up and quickly recap the video. By the time we left her church that day, more than $700 had been given, and several had committed to attending that night. At the dinner, the people were amazing, assuring me that I had their prayers and support as I served. The food was just as good, and there was more than enough for everyone. The raffle went very well, and had some great prizes for a wide range of people. By the end of the night, over $1200 was raised, and I was beyond 75% funded (the minimum required to start training). As I said goodbye to friends and loved ones, I knew it was for 6 months, even though I still had almost $2000 to go before being fully funded. Thanks to some great friends, I was not allowed to clean up that night, and instead was sent home to pack. There was no question about whether or not I had started, it wasn't hard to guess. At 3 AM my friends pushed me and my gear into the car, and drove to the airport. I finished packing in the car half and hour after we parked. We went inside, checked my bag, emptied my water, and said goodbye to my beloved friends. Soon they were on their way to home and work, and I was skipping in and out of consciousness and taking pictures out of plane windows. When I landed in Fort Wayne Monday morning, I promptly checked my email. I learned that no one would be there or pick up any team members until 2 that afternoon, almost 5 hours away. I was exhausted, but alert and hungry. So, I bought a couple Pop Tarts and an orange juice and waited. By the time Emily (former Immersion team member, now Experience Mission Intern) came to pick us up, 2 of my team members had landed, and one had missed his flight. We were brought to the Summit, a retreat/training facility. Over the course of the afternoon and evening, we learned that there would be a total of 3 teams training at the same time: 3 Month Holy Land, 3 Month Caribbean (Jamaica, Haiti, and Costa Rica), and 6 Month Africa (Namibia, Lesotho, and South Africa). We spent he day laughing, talking, and asking questions. By the next morning, I felt as though I had known these people for weeks rather than hours, even though I still don't know some of their names on the other teams. We started classes at 9 AM Tuesday morning. They were all held together with all the staff present on one room. I can't imagine the amount of planning it must have taken, as each portion had so much detail and information. A major idea presented throughout the training is that our life has 4 main pictures or relationships: God, others, self, and creation (nature). Each picture is how we see each thing and the kind of relationship we have with each. As we go through life, we paint these pictures. We may start with broad generalized strokes, but as we learn and grow we progress to finer strokes and colors and textures, and the pictures each become clearer. Each day brings a new portion of this to challenge us to learn, ask questions, and make our faith, ours. I spent much of Tuesday afternoon researching what was in the sessions, because I left with a lot of questions. I first learned that I need to take better notes both in and out of class, because even though I had been paying rapt attention to the lessons, and had spent over 2 hours studying afterwards, I could hardly remember any of it the next day. Wednesday though, I feel as though I haven't stopped writing. There is so much to learn and absorb and share. As I continue this journey, and I learn more and apply what I learn, I will share more. At the moment, there is a certain overlapping of information that has yet to be processed. I'd like to thank you for bearing with me through this lengthy post, and for your support on this roller coaster getting here. I hope you will continue to learn and grow with me in this season as I share my experiences, the stories of the people I meet, and my progress in fundraising as I get closer to being 100% funded by February 8. If you have a question about me, my trip, or my team that you'd like answered, comment on this post, or email me at [email protected]. Thank you for your support, prayers, and guidance. God bless! Jeremiah 33:3 "Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not."

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