#where the mindscape archives his past self

[maskednerd]

#hollow mind expect Luz and Hunter had to deal with these 3 at the same time #honestly tho that's a fun AU #where the mindscape archives his past self #and i may or may not have roleplayed a concept like that once before hehe #toh #the owl house #philip wittebane #textpost memes

[autoclavesarchived]

dead sea | the magnus archives (ao3)

a character study of martin & depression

Martin wakes up, and doesn’t want to. This is always how it starts—the creeping fog, the wretched emptiness, the realization that he can no longer find a single reason to go through the motions of living again. It’s a slow descent. He can feel himself slipping back into that bad place again, and he is both aggressor and spectator in his passivity. On these days, he doesn’t think he can be a person even if he wants to.

(It had started the previous evening when the sun sank down. It’s so lonely out at nightfall. To look outside and see nothing else, only pinpricks of solitary light in the distance, to be the only known quantity in a sea of darkened glass. It was like the slow fade into night had bled something loose inside him.)

That had been a different kind of void, though. Less illness, more sadness, a sheet of blunt-edged melancholia. This raw, record-scratch morning is far less quantifiable and infinitely worse.

Radio static in his head. He is in so many pieces. It’s hard to keep himself together when the sun has fallen right off the edge of the world and his body now feels like the unwanted inhabitant of a car crash; no, nothing quite so violent and screaming as that. A haunted house, maybe. A muffled crime scene before its investigation.

Somewhere in the middle of this glitching mindscape, a person that Martin would like to believe is his real self cries for it to stop. This self is still alive, just—inaccessible. Quietly pigeonholed into the attic, quarantined under floorboards like a bad secret. Is there a way back home? Is there a way back to you? he thinks, blindly. There is no answer, or at least, none that he can hear. Depression, in its slow and imperceptible way, continues to take up residence inside of him.

It seems so unreasonable, but he can’t bear to even lift his head. He’s just so tired.

Outside is a riotous spring, green and pink and yellow. Last fall, when the cold set in and winter rusted shut its grip around them, he’d wanted it to be spring so badly that he would have given up anything to see it happen. A hand, an eye. A lung, even. The nights had been so long and aching then. Now, the days are, too. Outside is spring and Martin is acutely aware that it is passing him by.

Time distorts strangely when he’s like this. He wakes from the blink of a sleep-sick nap to find the sun burning too high above him, and the door creaking open; a rattle of keys being set down, plastic grocery bags rustling onto the kitchen counter, and Jon’s quick footsteps walking down the hallway.

“Martin?” he hears Jon call. “Martin? I’ve got the shopping but we should really see if—”

Their bedroom door opens, the noise of it interrupting whatever he had been about to say. It’s a little darker in here with the blinds half-turned, but not dark enough that he wouldn’t be able to see Martin lying curled on the bed.

“Martin?” he repeats, more quizzically this time.

“Jon,” Martin says. His voice is raspy from disuse, so he tries again. “Jon. Hello.”

Jon draws nearer. “Is this a bad day?” He is windswept and smells like sunlight, like the springtime he’d just been outside in, and Martin can hardly bear to look at him for envy of what he wants to be. What he couldn’t be if he tried because he is barely a person right now. But that isn’t Jon’s fault, he reminds himself very carefully. Jon is trying to take care of him. (His expression has not changed in the slightest after seeing Martin motionless on the bed, all the blankets pulled up despite how mild the day is, and he is silently thankful for it. He knows what a miserable picture this must make.)

“Yeah,” he manages. “Do you—can you… come here? Please.”

“Of course.” There’s a sweep of air, and the bed dips; Jon sliding in between the sheets unquestioningly at his appeal even though the day is in its prime and it’s only Martin’s brain being irrational and happiness-deprived.

It takes a minute, but they shift so that they’re facing each other, bodies only a few inches apart on the mattress. Martin can feel the difference of a second presence and the warmth it exudes. He can feel himself reaching for it, too, with his half-starved self. A puzzle piece, or a stray bracket looped inwards.

“Can I touch you?”

Martin nods. He desperately wants Jon to touch him. He needs to be reminded that he’s real, and that he hasn’t just made this up in his mind as a respite from the echoing wasteland of the sadness. Jon is real, and that means Martin is more than a single lonely blot on the horizon.

“Okay,” Jon whispers, and doesn’t ask anything more of him. Soon enough, Martin feels hands skim the backs of his wrists, glide up his forearms and across his shoulders. They trace the pattern of freckles on his chest, forwards and backwards. Light, undemanding touches, so quintessentially Jon in their repetitive familiarity. Eventually, he pulls him closer so that their bodies are pressed against each other in a sort of half-hug: Martin’s head tucked into the bend of Jon’s chin, one of Jon’s legs draped over his hip, their torsos a single warm line from collarbone to stomach. Jon is normally so much smaller than him, and all rangy and bird-boned to boot, but when he gets like this, his presence is expansive, comforting. Martin feels lazily enveloped in it. The whole bed smells like Jon now, aftershave and rooibos tea and something citrusy—oranges, maybe.

He lies carefully still in familiar arms, and he thinks he should feel something more about this. He thinks he should feel happier, or more grateful. It’s not that he’s not, exactly, more that he’s just… temporarily divorced from it. As if he’s looking at the feeling, or the implication of it, from a point very distant at the edge of the sky. There’s something in the way that makes it hard to directly feel anything. He is looking at the happiness of someone else’s body, and then back down at the happiness-shaped imprint on his own. The place where happiness is supposed to be, but isn’t, right now.

He tells Jon this. “I think I should feel something about this. I think I should feel something about you right now. It isn’t right that I don’t.”

(He just feels so hollow. He didn’t know absence could take up so much space inside a person. Right now, he is a tenant in his own head.)

“You don’t owe me anything, Martin,” Jon says, the steady vibration of words in his throat humming through the top of Martin’s skull. That sensation, the intimacy of it, is the closest Martin thinks he has gotten to feeling something today.

“I love you. You don’t have to answer that right now, but I just wanted you to know. When you come back, I’ll tell you again. As many times as you want.” The light stretches and slants as Jon speaks.

Martin is sometimes afraid that there is no back. There is no returning. It really does seem like this is all there is, this static on a broken loop and his mind slowing like the drip of a hospital IV. If that is true, then it’s not Jon, or even the feeling of happiness that is unreal; Martin is the imposter here. The magic trick, the illusion, the Eurydice caught between person and not. There is nowhere to go back to, because the emptiness is the only part of him that means anything.

(“I love you,” Jon had tried, over and over, achingly, the first time it happened, and finally Martin had screamed at him, “I love you can’t solve this, Jon!” They’d had a long conversation that night about love and illness and how sometimes he was so numb he could die from it. Since then, Jon only says the words because they are true, not as if they could save Martin. It might seem uncaring to anyone else, but it works for the both of them.)

I love you, Jon says now, like a fact, and Martin wants to say it back, he really does.

The figure in his head, the one that he has to believe he can go back to, tries to say it. But even in the isolation of his own mind, it only comes out as a faint I really loved you, you know. He doesn’t mean for it to mangle like that, the past tense of it softly mocking. He still loves Jon—that much is not an illusion. That much is also a fact. It’s the apathy again, leaching the feeling out of his actions and his speech. There is an I love you- shaped wound on his self and it is one he cannot quite reconcile with the love he knows he has for Jon. I really loved you, you know. And the version of me that loves you, that can love you, is still out there. Just not here. There’s all this untethered, inaccessible love here, Jon. I want to be able to feel it for you.

Jon falls asleep for a while after that. He’s still clutching at Martin, the weight and anchor of his body a welcome warmth. Martin stays awake, so he looks at Jon to fill the time.

Jon is rendered looser when he drowses. He’s more inexact somehow, edges less sharply defined and face slack, unreserved. It isn’t that he withholds on purpose, and especially not from Martin, but his defense mechanisms forget to reset themselves in sleep. It’s part of why sleeping next to him is an almost unbearable closeness all by itself—a reminder that he is trusted enough to see this. Martin reaches out with a hand, and is nearly startled when it brushes Jon’s face. He’d expected it to go right through him, for some reason. He isn’t sure whether he’d imagined himself or Jon to be the insubstantial one in this scenario, but in any case, his hand finds solid skin.

He touches his fill of Jon’s angular cheeks and cradled shoulders and pinned dark hair. He’s so beautiful, all of him. Aftershave and rooibos and oranges; it feels like a foreign landscape, but Martin is determined. He is relearning the things that make up Jon the way a man deprived of senses does.

When Jon wakes up—in fits and starts, squinting at the sun that is now slouching golden across the room—Martin embraces him and very quietly says that he’ll start putting the groceries away.

So they get out of bed together, even though Martin feels like he hasn’t walked in weeks. He lifts the bags off the counter to sit down and sort through them on the floor. It is the most human thing he’s done today.

Sorting is a quiet, menial sort of task that doesn’t require much thought, which is good, because his head is still weighted down with buzzing. He sits in the sunlight and lets the rice and orzo and tinned olives and fruit pass through his hands as he puts them on the shelves, thinking, our food, our sunlit kitchen, this is the home we have made. (I really loved you, you know. He can’t change the tense of it yet so he just repeats that word, love, until he can pretend to forget the context of it. No past, no future, just love, said like it would replace the emptiness.)

Afterwards, Jon makes them baked pasta with three different kinds of cheese. Evening paints the length of him glorious and blue. As Martin watches, he shreds thyme and basil and mixes breadcrumbs to cover the top layer the way Martin likes best; Jon, who is reasonably talented at yet notoriously opposed to the idea of cooking, does all this without batting an eye. Martin is sure he will feel something about this, too, later.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #magpod #my fic #depression /

[genaleah]

I can give the full context! It's going under a cut though because there's a lot to it 👍

So here we go....

TMA!AU

Aka AU², the Nightmare Boogaloo!

So right off the bat, this an AU-within-an-AU of the Wildcards becoming living embodiments of fear ala The Magnus Archives podcast. Here's a list of the Entities on the wiki, though obvious warning for spoilers. (Granted, I've only just started season 4!)

In this AU offshoot, each character becomes a monster tied to a different entity of fear. Nelson with The Eye, Guybrush with The Spiral, Eddie with The Desolation, Manny with The End, and Sam and Max with The Hunt.

Guybrush gets hit first + worst. It starts off very slowly, at first he just feels a little confused/dissociated, but then he starts to have increasing difficulty figuring out when he's asleep or awake, and whether he's in reality or the mindscape. Doorways that exist in reality will suddenly lead him into his dreams with no way out, and then suddenly he's back in reality with no warning. Eventually this crescendos to a point in which he can't find his way OUT of his mind at all, and it all starts warping more and more into something unrecognizable. What feels like months of sleepless, ceaseless wandering is only a single day that he's gone missing. This slip through reality is also what ends up transforming his own body, he changes himself into a reflection of his own state of mind.

When he comes back out, he unwittingly transforms the Motherlobe into another maze. Not everyone experiences this or even realizes that anything is wrong. The victims who get trapped in it become fellow reflections of The Spiral, albeit with their own fears/nightmares influencing how they turn out. The Psychonauts as a whole is being purposefully targeted as a breeding ground of fear & new avatars for the Spiral, and Guybrush was chosen as its architect against his will. He just had the right combination of powers and pain to create a smooth, seamless transition.

Simultaneously, other agents who don't encounter this are being changed by other Fears who don't want to lose their share of influence in the world. Psychics are PRIME fodder.

Manny and Eddie get infected by their respective Fears while they're away from the Motherlobe, just out and about doing their own things.

Manny doesn't even engage with his directly to begin with, other people start becoming increasingly fearful of him until the change in role suddenly overtakes him. People try to make bids for their own immortality, and whoop, suddenly he's got the dice or playing cards or what-have-you, and he always knows that he's going to win in the end. The losers die immediately in front of him. Sometimes he can be more of a direct reaper and make the offer first, but he's not totally comfortable doing that unless he REALLY thinks someone/something deserves it.

Eddie has probably the worst situation. If he touches anybody they will die a painful burning death. A single touch can cause 2nd or 3rd degree burns, prolonged contact will set the victim in flames. But worse than that is the fact that his alignment with the Desolation makes him want to destroy things and people of worth- so that he creates an acute fear of loss and pain to those who would miss them. He’s the most physically dangerous to be around, so he’s taken to wearing a full-body motorcycle get up so that no one can touch him accidentally. He's safe to the touch now, technically, but it doesn't stop him from being ultra careful. He’s trying to abide by some ghost-rider morals here and primarily target bad people or other monsters, but there’s always going to be some collateral damage.

As for Sam & Max... They take a while to really notice the shift happening, but their final stage can best be described as this: Imagine if Noir Sam enjoyed it. That's basically how both of them would behave. They've always loved hunting down perps, but now their chases are a little more... intense. Frantic. If they've had a good one they're satiated for a while, but going too long without it makes them more antsy and violent. The hunting is fun and fulfilling for them!

Sometimes it can ramp up into killing, but considering that the whole gang is out looking for answers, that means a lot of capture and kidnapping instead, with the intent of interrogation (thanks to Nelson). And some monster hunting on the side!

Nelson is one of the last to change, but he gets caught up in the shenanigans pretty early on after first finding Guybrush in his noodley eldritch state. He starts trying to figure out some way to undo all of their conditions and bring them back to normal. Well, "normal".

But slowly he shifts from "I need to know how to help my friends" to "I need to understand what's happening" to "I NEED to know as many deep dark secrets as possible in order to live". With the change in his behavior, he basically becomes a textbook supernatural Man in Black entity, and his clothing starts reflecting that. His eyes become bloodshot and light-sensitive, so he takes to wearing shades while trying to appear normal.

Which also brings me to the next character! @zeroodd​ came up with a great story for Elaine, so I will c/p it here :

What if her and Nelson had teamed up in the beginning for a solution.

Just one night they're both working hard on it and Nelson starts asking about what they've found so far

but then he

keeps asking questions

and Elaine looks over and he's just got a tape recorder right up to her face

"Do you know he's gone for good?"

Course he'd try to backtrack and apologize but Elaine has to face facts that Nelson is as much of a threat as any of them now.

She leaves the group for a while in order to study this fear stuff on her own, and comes to the conclusion that she needs to willingly get in on it if she wants any hope of surviving this increasingly dangerous world. She eventually joins The Web. She starts out feeling nervous about things being out of her control and scary, which suddenly shifts to her wanting to control more things and oh cool, these spiders help me do that! By the time she rejoins with the group everyone is full-blown monster mash so there’s very little to hide from anyone. (Manny still HATES bugs though, and would like the spiders far far away from him, por favor.)

So, how do they all go back to normal? Well... They don't. After hitting dead end after dead end, realizing they're definitely not human anymore, and learning the true nature of the fears as a whole, they're forced to accept it and try to maintain themselves as best they can.

The thing that would make the changes so insidious is that it would all gel with who they are as people. By the time they're at that final point, it would feel like fate that they wound up that way, like it's everything they're supposed to be.

The power of friendship possibly even added to this, because rather than struggling alone and possibly fighting back against it, they understood and cared for each other through the worst of it, which made accepting their new selves a lot easier.

BUT WAIT! There are a few more links left in this story:

How did all of this start, really? Well, consider the fact that in the normal Wildcard AU (???), LeChuck is responsible for a lot of trauma in Guybrush’s past that make his hold on reality a little rough. Add to that his ability to create very life-like illusions, and the poor pirate becomes the perfect conduit for the Spiral to take hold. In this AU, LeChuck was the one who got the ball rolling on his transformation out of hopes that he could control the Spiral itself by making his brother the primary avatar, and then bringing about a new world of madness in which he is the sole, sane ruler. Guybrush hasn’t lost his sense of self yet, but as more and more chaos and fear builds throughout the world as a whole, he’s losing track of himself more often. 

After all of his work and research, Nelson decides to try and bargain with the Fears directly. Dealing with supernatural forces hands-on has worked so far! (I'm not sure if he would have to find other fear avatars to work this out with, or if he could try to ritualistically communicate with the fear entity as a whole, but he figures something out.) His bargain is this:

He offers to lessen the burden of the Spiral off of Guybrush a bit. In exchange for LeChuck being removed as a threat, Nelson will let go of the last vestiges of humanity, and become a full-on fear entity to work for both The Eye AND The Spiral. The Spiral gets all of the knowledge he collects as a watcher for the Eye, The Eye gets to know that someone reasonable is helping to keep the Spiral in check a bit. Diplomacy!

The deal works out, Lechuck gets trapped in the PUZZLE ZONE and Guybrush gets to reclaim a bit of his sanity/sense of self again. In the aftermath, Nelson's got a permanent tape-recorder effect to his voice, but on actual recordings he sounds as clear as if he were right there, with little or no effect where it should be. The pupil of his left eye has become a spiral, while Guybrush's solidified into a round one. Nelson's blending of roles works even better as a MIB: He creates the uncanny feeling of being monitored, and you get the sense that he's always lying about his motives.

This new situation works out even better than expected, and he tries it again in order to help Eddie. Not that he could possibly take on a third fear responsibility, but at least he's living proof that giving the avatars of fear what they want can work out for the best, and make them more effective at being monsters!

Essentially: Give👏us👏work👏benefits👏

The deal between the Desolation and The End gives these boons: Manny can sometimes take a human form (better for targeting victims), and Eddie gets a lot more control over the heat and can turn it down to a low simmer. They get to work in tandem to create a NEW kind of fear, the burning loss of everything you've ever cared about, and the knowledge that at the end of all that suffering is an infinite, inescapable end.

Now the gang lives on a haunted ship (Philadelphia Experiment??) that they use to travel around the world and hunt down worse monsters / evil humans. And maybe save the world if need be? But mostly they just terrorize people and feed off their fear.

In summary: everybody's awful monsters but it worked out fine in the end. For some reason the Magnus Archives made me go "But what if this was a found family story and they unionized and lived on a boat??" I can't do aus normally anymore, maybe I never could.

#wildcards au #tma!au #final pam voice: GOD FORGIVE ME

[comicteaparty]

June 29th-July 5th, 2019 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from June 29th, 2019 to July 5th, 2019.  The chat focused on the following question:

Whether intentional or not, what would you say is the central theme of your comic?

snuffysam

The central theme of Super Galaxy Knights Deluxe R http://sgkdr.thecomicseries.com/comics/ is, to put it in a word, acceptance. Accepting that you can't change the past, accepting that you can't control everything that happens in your life, accepting that other people come from different walks of life and experience different hardships from you, accepting that you can't change other people's hearts, and learning to accept yourself even when others don't accept you.

Attila Polyák

The story of Tales of Midgard https://talesofmidgard.com/comic/book-1-cover-page/ does have a central theme, but most of the story mostly follows events that allow the exploration of the world. That said... If you look at it closely you'll notice that the story does involve themes about free will and the results and consequences of an actions taken.

Respheal

Kinda hit me just now that the central theme of Galebound (http://www.galebound.com/) might be "real change comes from a place of love, not hate". Basically, even if you have "good" goals, trying to achieve those goals from a position of hatred will just destroy everything around you, while doing something because of love elevates everything. Also row row fight the power(edited)

Jonny Aleksey

The Undefeatable J-Man ( http://jonnyalekseydrawscomics.com/thelatestpage ) So when I starting writing up the series years ago the idea was always going to be about the relationship between J-Man and his father. J-Man having idolized his officer dad when he was little but growing more distance after he becomes a hero and does his own "cases" (like a kid trying to be grown up). The inclusion of sidekick Sleepy Bear evolved from a fun silly idea into being a sort of little brother to J-Man, forcing him into a guardian role before he's really ready. I guess in short the theme has become maturity and hero worship.(edited)

ErinPtah (Leif & Thorn | BICP)

If Leif & Thorn (http://leifandthorn.com/) has a main theme, it's "communication." Partly because the characters don't share a first language -- and even as Thorn gets better at speaking Leif's, there are huge cultural differences that they need to figure out and talk through.

On top of that, if you dig down far enough, a ton of the problem-of-the-week type conflicts can be traced back to miscommunication! Someone hasn't explained themselves, or tried but didn't get it across very well, or explained it clearly but the other person didn't want to listen...

(The other problems are pretty much all about financial exploitation. Something goes wrong, it's either miscommunication or capitalism. Or both!)

But I'm A Cat Person (http://bicatperson.com/) is about broke recent college grads living on their own for the first time, but still making new connections and getting by with help from their friends. Also, immortal shapeshifters who need to be bonded to a human Master and will literally run down like a rusting machine if they don't get regular orders. There was a point when I figured the theme was "independence," but it's really more "interdependence."

...It's very political, but it takes place in 2010-2011, so the in-universe references have to be specific to that era. If they didn't, I'd be saying "stronger together" a lot more.

keii4ii

Heart of Keol (https://heartofkeol.com/) is about being let down by the one person you trusted, when you needed them the most. The feeling of "I'd thought they would care, but I guess that was too much to expect........" It's also about how you change (which hopefully includes healing -- though that isn't the case every time...) after such an experience. How that relationship changes afterward, and how it affects your other relationships.

Mharz

The Angel with Black Wings http://blackwings.mharz.com/ main central theme is "forgiveness" whether it's towards others or towards yourself. We've all been hurt before and sometimes depending on how tough it is, it can sometimes be so hard to forgive anyone even yourself. Some had so many tragedies happened to them that they had formed hatred towards the world that they just want to see it burn. Many of us formed self-loathing because we haven't achieve this kind of status we wanted for ourselves, or maybe we have blamed ourselves for something bad that has happened in the past. Forgiveness or lack thereof can greatly affect someone's mental health... and it doesn't just affect ourselves, but the people around us. CHAMPS http://champs.mharz.com/ aside from the slow-burn lesbian romance that's going on is about which victories are more important? The main characters, being athletes they'd want to win any match they can... but winning doesn't necessarily mean a satisfying victory. Sometimes you need to make a choice.

NeilKapit

What is this theme? Is it, according to that one guy from the Game of Thrones show, something for eighth grade book reports? Everyone knows storytelling is all about random shit happening to keep people in their seats, regardless of why.

Tuyetnhi

ha?

keii4ii

I think NeilKapit was making a joke about themes in general

Tuyetnhi

o

keii4ii

Not sure but my guess is he was sarcastically mimicking those who uh, don't "believe in themes"

Mharz

oh I thought it was pertaining to mine... becos my message was before theirs

I'm like did I say something wrong?

keii4ii

Nah, you're fine

Mharz

Ty keiiii

NeilKapit

It’s a joke based on a quote by David Benoit (sp?), one of the game of thrones showrunners, about how he approaches storytelling

It explains a lot about why the show went south so hard and so fast once they ran out of book material to adapt

Sorry if it sounded like I was dissing you or anyone here, I wasn’t

keii4ii

Thank you for clarifying

Mharz

it's good, bud. : D

NeilKapit

In all seriousness, the theme behind my comic We Are the Wyrecats (wyrecats.com) is coming of age in the worst possible way, with the protagonist having spent ages 18-22 in a coma, and awakening to a world where all the common sense heroism she and her friends tried to do ended up receiving a vicious backlash from the powers that be, where her friends have had to morally compromise in the name of survival, and where she realizes that people only allow you to do good on their terms

And what to make of things upon learning all of that

Nutty (Court of Roses)

In Court of Roses http://courtofroses.thecomicseries.com/ I'm trying to show the love, beauty, and power in self-expression, especially of the artistic kind and how versatile it can truly be. My bards will have a lot of challenges thrown at them to be solved uniquely with their talents!(edited)

Nutty (Court of Roses)

I wanna expand on that once they all start traveling together, as well as showing the importance of being able to seek help and comfort from others when you need it most.

Capitania do Azar

Haha central theme of my comic (www.sarilho.net/en/) is cooperation and this was super intentional because themes are super important and that's is why I spend so much time dealing with characters engaging in battle (edited)

MJ Massey

Not sure if this counts, but Black Ball (http://welcometoblackball.com/) is a deconstruction of the Great Gatsby and other 1920s literature which involves a lot of ironic tragedy. Emily is the common sense friend you wish all those characters had, because she has no time for that nonsense, and inadvertently comes in and makes people face their problems and, through that, become stronger, better people. While this is going on, she doesn't even realize that she's having an impact on people. Emily starts as sort of a passive doormat, being dragged around where her parents or the plot take her, but by the end she will find her own confidence and will become a more assertive person

Tuyetnhi

The main themes for OIYD! (http://oiydcomic.com/) is a combination of Fantasy vs. Reality, Truth and Lies, the scope of love, and the sacrifices or consquences made from those choices. Escapism, fantasies, and delusions often infer how we precieve our reality. And sometimes reality structures how these mindscapes are dictated. I want to explore such things under a romance between a dreamer and her dream, implications of trying to please your family and yourself, and what to do when your dreams can turn into concrete existence.(edited)

kayotics

Okay, so after some thinking, I think one of the main themes in Ingress Adventuring Company (https://ingress-comic.com/) is that healing isn't linear, and it can take a long time. That goes tied with the theme that sometimes there's more to people than what they show you. These aren't, like... SUPER obvious as themes yet, especially because most of the comic right now is a pretty light-hearted adventure story, but I think i'll get around to it.

deo101

Millennium's (http://millennium.thecomicseries.com/) main theme is really all about love, and overcoming great struggle through it. It's about healing and growth and finding your own family!(edited)

Jurinova

In it's core Home is a Distant Wish (https://tapas.io/series/hiadw) is about healing and finding one's own place in the world. It is about home but not just as a physical place but home as a feeling of belonging and safety, and most importantly about the right people. It is in many ways about people disconnected trying to connect again. There are more underlying themes that are a bit darker but I do like to think that the more hopeful themes are the dominant ones.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #creator interview #comic creator interview #comic tea party #ctp #creator babble

[a-blog-just-for-sanders]

Fic - For the Record

Heyy so I wrote another fic! This is loosely inspired by the podcast musical 36 Questions, which Thomas has recommended a few times now and which I’m utterly in love with at the moment. 

This fic took me ages, cos’ it’s a very different writing style than I’m used to. It was fun though, just...tricky. But yeah, I hope you like it!

Tags are at the end! If you want taking off or adding just let me know!

(also this is the longest fic I’ve written for this fandom, omg) 

-

Title: For the Record

Pairing: Analogical (Logan/Virgil)

Warnings: minor anxiety attack

- 

“Oh, it’s recording. Salutations. This is the first recording for the progress logs of my experiment in– “

“Is this really necessary?”

“Virgil, please don’t interrupt me while I’m recording the logs.”

“Why do you even need to record this?”

“For the sake of scientific progress, of course. When undertaking an experiment of any kind, it’s important that all the data be recorded for later analysis, to ensure the results are unbiased and objective.”

“Objective? Your experiment is about emotions, I don’t think there’s anything objective about it.”

“…Nevertheless, I believe keeping these recordings will be beneficial. It will allow me to revise our progress each day and, if necessary, strategize our next step. Now, may I continue?”

“…Whatever. But, for the record, I think this is stupid.”

“Noted. Now, where was I? Ah yes, the experiment’s aims and objectives. In brief, recent…events, have demonstrated that my ability to read the emotions of others, and of myself, is… in need of improvement.”

“‘In need of improvement’?”

“For the record, let it be known that I do not appreciate sarcasm.”

“You don’t understand sarcasm.”

“Falsehood! I have studied linguistics extensively, alongside multiple different dialectical expressions, colloquiums– “

“–yeah yeah, whatever Brainiac.”

“…To return to the experiment, I have decided to take definitive steps to improve my empathetic abilities, so that in future I will be able to better understand emotional responses and react accordingly. Initial research through conventional methods, however, has proved… unfruitful. I have therefore decided to try a different method, by recruiting an… assistant– “

“Assistant? Really?”

“­–who, in spite of his sarcastic response, because I do know what sarcasm is, has promised to expose me to a broad range of emotional stimuli and situations, and to assist in the identification of my emotional responses, so that I may in turn learn to recognise the same emotions in others.”

“You’re making this sound way more complicated than it is. Give it here–“

“I really don’t see–“

“C’mon Logan, I’m your assistant, remember? I get to hold the recording-thing too.”

“It’s not a ‘recording-thing’; it’s a Dictaphone, developed by the Volta Laboratory in the late– “

“–Yeah sure, it’s a dictaphone, now hand it over… Alright, so Logan has promised to do all of my chores for the next two months, if I help him with his weird experiment on feelings and shit. So we’re going to watch a bunch of scary movies, maybe play some really annoying videogames, and he’s going to record his emotional responses in this log. I’m still not sure why I got picked to help out with this, considering I’m Anxiety and this mushy crap is definitely not my thing–“

“–I told you, the other two are far too illogical for– “

“–but hey, I get out of chores, so I don’t care. Alright, so…what now?”

“Now, we begin.”

 -

 “Salutations. This is day six in my ongoing experiment in emotional responses-”

“–For the record, I think this experiment needs a catchier name.”

“Really, Virgil. For the record, I disagree.”

“For the record, I disagree that you disagree.”

“…That makes no sense.”

“You make no sense.”

“To continue my previous statement: we have now engaged in several activities together designed to stimulate emotions, and I have been keeping a daily record of my own emotional responses in this log.”

“That sounds a bit...”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“…We are now going to watch what Virgil calls ‘scary movies’, so I may study how different individuals express negative emotions. I believe we have several movies to watch, so I will cut this log short, and report on my progress afterwards.”

 -

 “Virgil, give it here!”

“Nope, I won’t!”

“Get back here!”

“Hey, this is still day six, and I just wanted to say that Logan is terrified of clowns. And for the record, he’s a surprisingly fast runn – “

“–Are you recording this?! Virgil, the Dictaphone is for serious logs only– “

 -

 “Greetings. It is the evening of day six. Or, to be more precise, the morning of day seven: it is approximately 2:33am. I am…having difficulty falling asleep, so I have decided to report on the experiment’s progress. The scary movies were an enlightening experience, but also highly illogical and hyperbolic, and–

What was that?

…For the record, the window is open, and a breeze is coming through and blowing the curtains, which in turn is creating an illusion of movement…and the shadows on the wall might look like a facsimile of a menacing figure, but are in reality simply shadows, and completely harmless...

…Perhaps I will go see if Virgil is awake.”

 -

 “It is day nineteen. We have now watched every movie that Virgil deems ‘acceptable’ in the DVD collection of the mindscape, and I have taken extensive notes on the emotional responses displayed by each character. We are now moving onto the next step of the experiment– “

“–which is playing board games all day, apparently. Ugh.”

“Playing board games is an excellent method to refine emotional control. Frustration, for example, is an oft experienced emotion during strategic games, particularly when strategies do not pan out as anticipated.”

“…Are you sure you didn’t make this step up, so you could beat me at board games?”

“…Enjoying my victory is also an emotional response, correct?”

“I knew it! In that case-“

“–What are you– “

“–checkmate!”

“You can’t - that’s against the rules! You cheated!”

“I’m just helping you refine your ‘emotional control’!”

“That’s not-! We’re starting again, this time with no cheating!”

 -

 “Salutations. It is day twenty-seven in my ongoing efforts to rationalise emotional responses. In yesterday’s log we decided to progress to the next step in the experiment, which will involve touring the memory archives, in order to observe particular memories in Thomas’ history, so that Virgil and I can reason out why particular moments were so… emotional.  

This afternoon was meant to be our first expedition into the archives. However, Virgil is…unable to assist today. Prior observation and research strongly suggests that he is the midst of an episode of heightened anxiety, perhaps caused by cognitive distortions. He has secluded himself in his room.

Observing emotional responses in popular media over the past few weeks has demonstrated that comforting gestures are immensely useful in addressing moments of self-doubt and security…but I do not know to how to be comforting.

Should I go to him? I would like to help, but I do not want to make an error.

I am…uncertain of how to proceed.”

 -

 “For the record, I am whispering because I am stood outside Virgil’s room. I…I am still recording, so that if I am unable to convey my sincerity to Virgil, I can learn from this, and improve in the future.

It is still day twenty-seven, and I am about to knock…

…Virgil?

Virgil, I’m coming in.”

“…Logan? What’re you doing here?”

“I am here to enquire about your well-being.”

“I’m just…not in a good mood today Logan. You should leave. I can’t help in your experiment right now.”

“I’m not here for the experiment.”

“…You’re not?”

“No, I am not. Though I admit that the experiment has been highly valuable thus far in the development of my emotional understanding, and that I look forward to continuing to build on our success to date, today…today the experiment doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No. Today I am here to…help. If you want? If you don’t, I can leave. I don’t want to leave, of course, but if it will make you happy then I will do so. Wait, no, that was an emotionally charged statement, that wasn’t my intention, my apologies, I can go – “

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to go. I mean…the company would be kind of nice I guess…unless you want to leave! It’d be okay if you did, I’m kinda gross right now, and my room is a mess, and I’m probably going to do something annoying or stupid or get upset again, or I’ll have another anxiety attack and ruin everything–“

“–I would like to stay. With you.”

“…Oh, i-if that’s what you want…

“It is.”

“Okay, then…you can stay.”

“Thank you. Could I… sit with you?”

“Oh right, yeah, let me just move the blankets, one mo-”

“–thank you.”

“…so, erm, you want to watch something?”

 -

 “Today is day thirty-three in my experiment in emotional responses–“

“–I can’t believe you’re still calling it that–”

“As these logs will demonstrate, we have spent the last five days visiting Thomas’ most powerful memories in the archives, in order to observe moments of high emotion. Today we are observing a memory of a theme park, which Thomas originally visited when he was in college.”

“Why are we here again?”

“As I stated earlier, we are here to take notes on how Thomas’ and his friends react to excitement and heightened adrenaline, so I may become familiar with how others express these emotions.”

“…okay.”

“I have made extens – gah!”

“Fuck!”

“…For the record, that was Thomas screaming. I believe Thomas’ memory of the haunted house is more...imaginative, than the original event. Perhaps Roman was feeling more present on this day than usual?”

“…”

“…Virgil? Are you okay?”

“…I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“...Perhaps we could revisit the theme park on another day. I believe on the day following this event, Thomas spent several hours at home relaxing with his friends. Why don’t we move onwards to that memory?”

“I told you, I’m fine!”

“That may be so. I, however, have grown weary of this memory. Roman’s influence has transformed it into a cacophony of chaos and it is quite…distracting. If you are amiable, I would like to move on to the next.”

“But…didn’t you want to ‘observe adrenaline?’”

“These memories will not be forgotten any time soon. I can revisit them another day. Additionally, observing memories of relaxation, of peaceful days with friends, are also essential to a successful study on emotional responses. Now, shall we go?”

“…yeah, that sounds great…Logan?”

“Yes?”

…Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

 ­-

 “It is 2:36pm on day thirty-eight. Thus far, the experiment has been a success. Indeed, it has…been more successful than anticipated.

I believe I am beginning to understand these…emotional expressions. Indeed, recently, I have found the atmosphere between Virgil and I to be particularly emotionally charged.

…I think I might…

No. These logs are a scientific endeavour, it is no place for cognitive distortions.”

 -

 “Salutations. It is day forty-three of the experiment. For the record, Virgil and I have just finished observing a memory of Thomas’ first date. It was…an enlightening experience.”

“It was gross, that’s what it was.”

“I can agree that the memory was particularly emotional, perhaps overly so– “

“–it was sappy as fuck, why did we even go there?”

“–but it is my understanding that romantic attachments are important to Thomas, as well as to a significant portion of the general population.”

“Isn’t this more…Princey’s thing, though?”

“Normally, I would agree. Nevertheless, I believe it is essential for the experiment that I observe a wide range of emotional experiences.”

“Ugh, sure, whatever. Let’s just…not do that again.”

“…Understood.”

“Good.”

“…However, before we move on, I have a question.”

“Oh great.”

“Thomas seemed very pleased when his date held his hand. I’m aware that handholding is considered a romantic gesture, but why? Does it stimulate feelings of affection? Or is it something else entirely?”

“Oh my god. For the record, I am not answering that question.”

“…Very well. Then I will simply have to try it. Virgil, your hand please.”

“What?! I’m not– “

“Virgil. You agreed to be my assistant… unless you would rather do the laundry this evening?”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“...For the record, I am now holding Virgil’s hand. His palm is damp, possibly with perspiration–“

“Wh-what, why would you even– “

“–but it is warm, and quite…pleasant.”

“…”

“Virgil, are you okay? You look quite flushed. Are you feeling ill?”

“I’m fine!”

“Are you sure? Let me-”

“Yes I’m sure! Can this part of the experiment be over now?”

“Very well, I believe we have made excellent progress for today.”

“Erm…are you going to let go?”

“Oh. Of course.”

 -

 “It is day forty-five. I am aware that I previously stated that this log is only for recording the results of my ongoing experiment, however…I cannot keep this to myself any longer.

For the record, I think…

No, I know I have grown emotionally attached to Virgil. Initially, I suspected it was the result of our growing friendship. We have spent many days in each other’s company since this experiment began, so it is only logical that I would develop an affinity for his company.

However, I believe my initial assessment was…incorrect. I do value his company. He makes me feel… content. His smile. His laugh. His endless and absolutely infuriating sarcasm.

I don’t know how, or if, I’ll ever tell him, or what this means for the experiment, or for us, but to deny it would be illogical…

For the record… I’m in love with Virgil.”

 -

 “It is day forty-six. I have decided to halt the experiment for now, until I am more able to…control my emotions.

With hindsight, learning how to recognise emotional impulses may not have been a good idea.”

 -

 “It is day forty-nine. The experiment is still on hold. I think I might stop using this Dictaphone for now, until I am able to continue in the experiment…

…I haven’t spoken to Virgil since I realised the extent of my feelings.

I am unsure how to proceed. I can’t confess - Virgil is easily startled, and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or trigger an anxiety attack.

And I find it highly unlikely that he would – “

“Logan?”

“Oh! Virgil! Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I knocked, but you didn’t answer. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you, I can just-“

“No, no, stay! It’s fine. I was just…recording the latest update, for the experiment.”

“Oh. Have you been carrying on with that then? Erm, alone?”

“Ah. No. Not really.”

“Oh.”

“…”

“Are we…are we alright? Did I mess up? Cos’ if I did, I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to-“

“No, you didn’t do anything. We’re fine; everything’s fine.”

“…are you sure? We haven’t really…hung out in a while. I mean, it’s okay if you got tired of me, even I get tired of-“

“Virgil. I’m not tired of you. I could never be tired of you. It would be...impossible. Illogical.”

“Oh. Oh, good. I’m glad.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“So, erm….did you wanna watch a movie or something? Patton made cookies earlier, we could have some? Maybe with hot chocolate?”

“That sounds…wonderful.”

 -

 “Erm, testing, testing, one two three? Wait no, that’s microphones. I’m just going to hope this is actually working…How does Logan usually start these again? Oh yeah. It’s day fifty, I think? I’m not sure, I haven’t been keeping track.

But yeah, Logan left the Dictaphone on the sofa…I think it might have fallen from his pocket, during the movie. It’s a good thing I found it, cos’ it’d be really fucking annoying if we lost all these recordings.

Anyway, it’s like 3am and I’m pretty sure he’s sleeping right now, so I’m just going to leave this outside his door. Okay, right, well, goodnight…

…and Logan? If you’re listening?

For the record…I love you too.”

-

Tags:

@thegeekgirl42 @nourstudies @demonickittykat @xix-leiloves-xix@uniquelyinsane7@podcastsandcoffee @the-potterhead-phandom @waste-disposal-unit @musicphanpie-b@superwaywardangel @thebrightsilverlining@here-to-vent@elder-jeremiah @gracefullyinsanedancingunicorn@zamoradraw @reallyawkwardlyawkwardhuman @makingsunshine@virgilmood @data7-cyber29 @mintelion @colie7700 @holdnarrytight@lizziepopanime @lostgirlgwen @wammygirl

#sanders sides #analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #my writing #fic

[timespakistan]

A silent devotion | Art & Culture | thenews.com.pk Suluk Wandering 14 If colour could only paralyse the viewer’s mind and imagination, it is here. Think of the opposite sensation. Of colours sombre, soft, so filled with angst that it could be a “bleeding piece of heart.” This is Shireen Kamran. In terms of colour, this is a sensation that is resonant, far from impulsive art. What matter are the qualities of paint and the art of painting itself. Kamran’s identity of abstraction is the artist expressing herself via colour and formlessness born out of the contemplated idiom. We are given the landscape or the mindscape by Kamran as concrete emotions. This is not enthusiasm; but there is introspection and self-freedom. Kamran’s work is neither spectacular nor demonstrative. It doesn’t shout; it whispers, and then falls silent. The silence in her art, within the works and between them, is not unlike our own calculated gulfs of silence, into which we fall and reveal ourselves, even as we resist. It is clear that she likes to play off strong accents against delicate rendering, adroitly manipulating these strategies to set up arhythmic exchange. The moody lyricism of her images can suggest tranquility as swiftly as it can anxiety; it negotiates a formal counterpoint between balance and disturbance, integrates fragments of composite and contradictory cohesions only to set them once more adrift. You look for signs to see if her pain is palpable. Tensions are created on the surface, and then intentions and dichotomies break cover. As the paint is banked down or piled up, or stroked in brisk staccato bristles, a mystery of infinitude develops. In her life practice, Shireen Kamran has cultivated a singular vocabulary of abstraction and landscape. The conceptual grounds of the oeuvre that went on show at Canvas Art Gallery in Karachi as Hiatus remain in dialogue with laws of the universe, the cyclicality of time as well as a manifest relatedness between human beings and the webbed fabric of ecology. This painterly world is textured with knowledge references that the artist has attuned to over a period of time – from realms as diverse as archaeology, ancient architecture, art history, sacred philosophy and poetry. The Lebanese American writer-poet and painter Etel Adnan reflects: “When you speak of transformation, you have a combination or contrast of a substratum – something that is permanent and something that changes. There is a notion of continuity in transformation.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. The continuity is also borne of technical choices – the artist has persisted in working with mixed-media since she began to paint. Through landscapes and cityscapes bearing resonant forms in lines, elemental shapes and dots, the artist maintains a consciousness around the geometric symbolism and symmetries held within nature. At times, the transformation of seasons plays out in these lively surfaces – from spring fever, a passage of wind currents, to the gathering of rain clouds, all becoming intimately conveyed in the sense boundaries of Kamran’s palette. In the artist’s words, “The signs of sound, touch, smell and shades of colour that emanate from a forgotten incident create an instant marker in the mind creating an emotive spirit. The mind holds on to that and finds a release in the act of painting. Painting soaks us in this spirit.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. Crooked trees entwine around a field of crops, while an eclipsed moon rests upon bare branches. Indian red and leaf green borders are marked on either side of the painting; these ways of framing the landscape are reminiscent of traditional scrolls and Basohli-style paintings, and often remind one of Howard Hodgkin’s abstracts inspired largely, by his own admission, by the Indian miniature. Some works appear tactile in their composition, providing a sense of dimensionality to the backdrop and detailed foreground: flowers with bending stems that appear as still life subjects of a Giorgio Morandi painting; tantric symbols float upon an ochre pigment ground. They meet an inverted mountainside, minuscule wave formations – and then the ground becomes a garden. Licks of blood fire and white sails are impressed into an earthen scene that resembles how earth tones transform with the passage of time. In another painting, moving lines open up to a terrestrial gradient of soil, shattering the linear gaze into a circulation. In the meditative spatial density of Kamran’s recent works there is still the quiet comprehension of the philosophic condition of formlessness. Some of the earth shades exposed in the artist’s work allude to the contours of baked clay. In fact, the artist’s home and studio remain filled with collections of clay figurines and wood crafted objects that compose an archive of living traditions. These cultural artefacts expose Kamran’s cultivated understanding of how modernist idiom remains uniquely connected to artisanal vocabularies and vernacular knowledge from across the subcontinent. Across her painterly work, especially in the past decade, rhythm construction becomes strongly manifest as Kamran’s strokes begin to appear as score lines for a song composition – with secret scripts that appear to settle upon azure patches and golden yellow ripe meadows. These are Kandinsky like, where colour flows resonate as visual chords and elicit synesthetic encounters. Shireen Kamran has cultivated a sensorial practice of seeing, which considers that the unknown element is inevitably encompassed in the composition of the known – like hidden galaxies that remain beyond calculation to the human eye, but nevertheless light up the celestial skies. This artist charts terrains of the sensed, rather than remaining controlled by a frontier of directly consumable reality. Thus, she builds image constellations as a limitless space. There is no way to remain unmoved in the company of Kamran’s paintings; they present a complex structure of feeling and planetary belonging within the dark vulnerability of our present. There is no grandeur here in these landscapes or mindscapes – there is only a spiritual quietude that propels itself into the extension of the self that retracts from the universe, to find another world. A world that diminishes the desire for external alacrities and multiplies the quest for transcendentalism. For Shireen Kamran, this desire is propelled by an overriding sense of mingled vulnerability to the outer world that results in the magnification of both curiosity and abject desolation. The dialectic between the inner and the outer world is not the only one mediated in these paintings: Kamran’s landscapes are like mappings that reverberate with a series of adjacent assimilations and associations. This is moody lyricism at its best, like the sunset that swathes the sky in its tenacity of multi-coloured hues; it is the torrent of darkness that creeps into the shades of trees; it is the ghostly galleon that vanishes from sight when the cloud of anxiety disturbs its very entity. Silent devotion for Kamran does not merely mirror a day, it is life in itself; it is the sunset of expectation that has drowned in the abyss of destiny. This is why the silent devotion becomes the negotiator. The writer is an art   critic based in Islamabad https://timespakistan.com/a-silent-devotion-art-culture-thenews-com-pk/11821/?wpwautoposter=1614506404

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

“Fanfic writer asks”: Skipping the “asks” and doing the answers!

I just saw this and I’m too excited to wait for someone to see this, decide what to ask, and I wanted to answer all of them, anyways.

Some of these are fill-in-the-blanks for askers, so I can’t answer them. But if anyone wants elaboration, or wants to know a specific something in regards to a particular story, or character: Absolutely, feel free to send me some!

Questions taken from here: http://criminal-minds-fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/172926526725

--

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction? Oh geez, we practically need a time machine for that. I was only 11 or 12! I started "writing" fanfics with my action figures (guest-starring other childhood toys) as far back as I can remember. Literally, from the time I was 5-8 and obsessed with Pokemon and Yoshi's Story and Powerpuff Girls, I was playing out stories and adventures, from beginning to end, imagining backstories for why they're there, what they were doing, what motivated them. They even came with continuity (from one play-session to the next)!

As for actually writing it down, though... That also started Very Early. I think I must've been 11 or 12? The earliest one I ever dated was 2005, anyway. They were descriptive, illustrating actions to display emotions, and characterization was... well, it Sure Existed (even if it varied from "So Wrong", to Definitely the Right Remark).

But ever since the moment I touched a pen to my first fanfic notebook, it was about my OCs (and Raven, because, surprise surprise, she was my favorite to write about). I've had plot since I first took those Crayola twistables to paper to illustrate the story in my head, the first story I ever Had a Solid Plot For (that is, Mystery Sickness-- which is being rewritten with Actual Explanations, re: Why Dove Made Her Feel So Shitty in the first place): that was also in 2005. (Fun fact: it was originally in Poorly-Drawn Comic Form). The actual "novelization" went through to 2007.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one? As my fanfiction.net profile will tell you: "Author has written 32 stories for Teen Titans, Pokémon, and Ruby Gloom." - The Ruby Gloom fanfic was abandoned, unfortunately. (It was a direct and shameless self-insert, that got abandoned because, quite frankly, I had no idea what to do with it. Maybe I should put it up for adoption at this point...) - A Work of Magic (my Pokemon fanfic, with related bios/etc) gets written for very rarely, because the inspiration to do so is rare and sporadic, and more tied to a Specific Scene I want to write, than where I left off in the story. @w@;; - A Steven Universe fanfic is in the works, though I'm struggling to flesh it out.. due to the Aforementioned Preoccupation with The FAVE MOMENTS, moreso than the backstory and movement through those moments. @D;;

And then, you have the Teen Titans stories. You know, the ones with Dove, and Kary, and Srentha, and Leyla will eventually be there. My most precious, dearly beloved, absolutely irreplaceable OCs. My TT story folder has about 100 files, which belong to about 30 full-length stories. (And that's not counting the oneshots, like Heart to Heart, which is still one of the best things I've ever written.) There are also a few poems here and there, particularly Dove's Prophecy (of self-fulfillment, really), and stories illustrating Dove's childhood, her mother/grandmother's past, Srentha's childhood... There's just Quite A Lot! I've been doing this, writing them, for 12+ years.~ And my fandomatic obsession for Teen Titans has never dulled, quieted, or been forgotten. So yes, I definitely do have a "particular" favorite. I may prefer exploring their world through my OCs, but damn, is it more FUN than any other world to explore!

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer. Ah, you can probably tell it's OCs by now. At least, MY OC's. Someone else's OCs, well, I tried that once, they were going to commission me. But I never got it finished. (I just didn't have quite the same connection. And I didn't know the canon; that can't have helped.) But character I *do* get to know, like my girlfriend's OCs in our collaborations (or characters I got to know so well through playing together that I just totally shamelessly adopted, specifically: Kary), I do enjoy writing for~ There's just something so incredibly special in knowing that you, solely, are responsible for their growth, their development, and their well-being. It's a bit like having kids, without the screaming. (At least, without them screaming in your ear. Dove and Kary have both done their fair share of screaming, come to think of it...)

( (( Although, to be fair: I've never tried writing a writer insert. I doubt anyone would actually WANT to endure the stories I put my characters through... ;P )) )

4) What is your favourite genre to write for? Fantasy? Action/Adventure? It's hard to say, because I actually write for a HUGE variety of Genres. But I guess my favorite, if I can encompass all of them under this one umbrella, would have to be Hurt/Comfort.

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be and why? DAMN IT, DON'T DO THIS TO ME.

Gods, that's hard! Basically ALL of my stories are multi-chaptered... Well, it's definitely one of my Teen Titans stories. DDD has definitely been the most challenging to write, the most fulfilling to finish chapters on, and the most pivotal point in Dove's life, so it will always hold a special place in my heart. Writing for Azar in "The Final Journey" and Dove taking her first unintended steps into heroism has been so personally touching for me, and it does so much good for Dove, and especially her relationship with the team, that it's just so, so special to watch. Something Special About Srentha is probably my most epic multi-faceted story, and the narrative timeline (handling two very distinct and separate struggles in totally separate places) is really challenging me to grow as a writer. "Continuum Wars" is going to be the grandest scale of struggle and magic, so I'm really especially excited to start figuring it out. It is just so, so HARD to decide on ONE; they're all so special, and I love watching my style evolve with each story, and more than anything, watching my characters come out of these situations alive. lD;;

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why? you mean the Teen Titans and Pokemon crossover where Dove brings home a Misdreavus? been there, done that. Honestly though, every single one of my stories has its place in my characters' lives, and is important for continuity. And personal growth. And I've honestly never been ashamed of something I've written.

(If you travel far back enough in my fanfic archive, you WILL find a really old character bio for Dove, which I completely revamped, because I didn't learn until later how to frame her without comparing her to Raven, even though she's always been a very different and independently-extant character. Also, the bits I learned about Being Kept A Secret and her grandmother's exile were Nearly Learned around 2010, 2012...)

7) When is your preferred time to write? Whenever the inspiration bug bites! ASAP!! But as for general adding and editing, it's fairly late at night, usually~ Sometimes afternoons. Usually an hour or more after eating, and especially when it's cool and quiet in the room.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from? Canon, personal experience (my personal struggles, my search for my identity, and my struggle to define myself), and sometimes even my own spirituality. (Wild shit goes down when you get into astral exploration, let me TELL you!)

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote? Can I just... use my personal favorite? (If you have any questions about a particular fic, or universe, or point in a character's life that didn't happen in the fics, let me know and I'll gladly answer!)

- Holy GOD, the climax scene of Dove's Dark Discovery! It takes place entirely in Dove's mindscape, while Dove's power is maxed out, and you've got a very powerful telepath and a TREMENDOUSLY power empath battling within a mindscape that has been slowly devastated over the past few months, and it's just this absolute EPIC culmination of their powers and, to a degree, even the connection they'd been forging since Dove came. Dove seriously oversteps some boundaries, Raven nearly kills Dove by accident, it's seriously crazy stuff.

Bonus: Way back in, like, probably 2008 or 2009, when titansgo.net was still around: I had asked my all-time favorite fanfic author for critique on the climax. His advice, to make it "three times as long and nine times the punch", absolutely inspired me to reach WAY higher with their fight, and once I realized what kind of mind-bending maelstrom shenanigans can go down in a MINDSCAPE, the scene fairly EXPLODED with potential!

And I especially like the fact that, including the revisions after his (entirely justified) advice: This scene has gone through like nine different incarnations. And my favorite part: It was originally inspired by a battle in the Teen Titans videogame! I think my little sister was playing White Raven (who my mind always read as Being Dove, because White Cape and Magic Powers), I was playing Raven, and the battle took place in "Nevermore", Raven's mindscape. It was actually a good fight. And I was fucking AMPED... But also emotionally RAVAGED, because "holy shit, Raven fighting Dove... in a mindscape......" And the scene happened like two days later. (In middle school. Honors Spanish class. As a note in the margins of my assignment notebook!)

Gods, guys. That scene is just so incredibly important, and it has come oh, so very far~

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind? I'm gonna answer one that I really like the ending of, but feel free to ask for others. Like, maybe one I've actually published, that you've actually read? 8F But honestly: Spellbound pt. II. I haven't published it yet... but it ends in absolute tragedy. The reason is twofold: First off, I knew Dove and Srentha were end-game, so although Dove was falling pretty deep into love, I couldn't have him hanging around... 8F But also because I wanted to illustrate the strength of sacrificial redemption. (I don't want to give too much away, because... well, that's the ENDING. But it's heart-wrenching and I can only hope I've done it justice.)

Other faves include: Srentha having heart-issues at the end of Something Special (because it's the Very First Symptom that something is going to be Dreadfully Wrong with him in the sequel), DDD ending with Dove absolutely traumatized and seriously hurt (because the following story is going to be all about her learning to Take Action on her pain, instead of hiding herself away), and A Work of Magic ending with everyone thinking Mistress had died trying to save her family... but the ending is, and the epicness kind of speaks for itself in this: "You can't kill a ghost."

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it? You mean like the way I completely rewrote Dove's character bio 6 years later, in response to all the accusations of her being a Mary Sue? Despite literally nothing (but more specific illustration) changing in the way I wrote her? 8F Other than that, absolutely not! I mean, if someone made a valid point I would. But nobody can tell me how to write my OCs, you know?

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why? My OCs. But you probably mean canon characters... and that easily comes down to Raven. She's just so layered, working with very inward, introspective mechanics, before she takes her action, usually in a very well-thought out direction, or sometimes an INSANELY emotional outburst, and either way, it tends to be Very Important, Poignant, and Make a Difference in the scene. I relate to her; I idolized her for the longest time; I know exactly how to write the struggle between not being able to express your emotions, and being true to yourself, because I've lived it. I'm an empath, so writing her empathic powers is always sort of therapeutic, because outside of my mirrorbook, I'd never gotten to EXPLORE that aspect of myself before. Her wit is hard to capture sometimes, I'll admit, but, I mean, I was making the nurses at the hospital laugh all the way up to my procedure, armed with nothing but my dry remarks. I think I'm up to the challenge.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why? Beast... Boy...... I'm sorry, I really am. I've just never been able to relate to him, or understand how his mind works (if it even works at all?), or write him into any of the plots-- outside of, like, trying to cheer Dove up, which is iconic and appreciated on Dove's end. But otherwise? What do I even DO with him? His sense of humor is just... so lowkey annoying that I sincerely cannot fathom why it's So Funny, let alone make it up for him. (Thankfully, at least the comics come in handy for exploring Why he's Like That, which has honestly helped a lot more than anything the show ever did. All but ONE of his episodes, were... pretty crack-tastic. And that just doesn't mesh well with my stories that are Trying to Deal with a Serious Issue Here.)

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can ask about multiple stories. Mostly, they're descriptive of the Most Iconic Thing, or Most Pivotal Plot Point, in the story! "Something Special About Srentha". "Dove's Dark Discovery". "Growing Up Demon: Leyla's Story". "Mystery Sickness", being renamed "Soul Sickness" for poetic value, but still keeping that iconic "Sickness" thing, while also making it More Relevant to Raven Specifically. The exception is probably "Unforeseen and Unforesaken". Yes, it's misspelled, I did that on purpose for visual balance in the title. It's weird. I know. But it's Intentional. (Still highly important things though, because it illustrates both Dove's arrival, and what happens once she's there, being unforeseen. And Dove absolutely hardcore valuing the team because they don't Forsake her.)

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names? Bold of you to assume I have this kind of CONTROL over them. Seriously, the way my writing works isn't so much "I get to decide what they do", and more like "huh, this Resonates. That must be a Thing... Let's try to seek out all the relevant details on why it happened, how they reacted, and how it ends!" It's like detective work. And this is absolutely best illustrated by trying to find Srentha's name. Because holy frick. What kinda name is that. (Turns out, it's literally in another language. 8F It means "flight", by the way! Onomatopoeia for the sound wings make.) Anyways, I literally found out one day that, "Dove tried to keep her pregnancy hidden... That must mean she had a kid. With someone." And thus began the Classic RHS Storytelling Search for "who's the guy?" And immediately I knew his name began with an "S". So I tried a bunch of names. I figured it was feminine-sounding, for some reason, thus I realized it ended in "-a". I knew it had two beats. Finding the "-ntha" was the easy part, it was figuring out how the heck to parse "Sren" into the right sounds and number of beats that was the REAL challenge. It wasn't until I remembered "Sri Lanka" exists that I figured out his entire name. (It's pronounced without the English "sh", though - it's just "Sren". As he says, "like Wren, with a Sss.")

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx? Mostly, they came to me when I was thinking about my characters' lives. Except The Final Journey, that one was based on "the crystals" my girlfriend illustrated Dove having in her room, and I kinda just took that entire concept and made it Azarathean and RAN with it!~ (If you're curious about any particular story, let me know!)

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on. "I killed six people. Do I deserve to die?" hello, this is your daily reminder that DDD absolutely Destroys Dove's self-image. But because it's So IMPORTANT and uhh, it was too Dark for me to leave that there, I also want to quote Raven's responses, which include "We all have our dark days," and "I do know that pain, that guilt. I know it better than anyone...[but] Solitary confinement won't cure it...[and] we don't want to see you leave." And also, "You won't be able to help anyone if you destroy yourself first."

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them? Oh, stars. Let's see... The first "wip" I abandoned was a character I named "gayla", not knowing "gay" was actually a word, first of all, but her concept turned out to actually be part of Srentha's story, and honestly I should've figured out that "heh, same name as Raven's nursemaid" wasn't a thing. {lD (Whose name was actually Galya, by the way. I didn't realize that mistake for like, five years.)

I only so very RARELY abandon an actual story, though. I know there have been a couple of Moment Concepts I've lost, due to not writing them down; that honestly hurts much worse. ;; But there's the aforementioned Pokemon+TT crossover, where Dove brings home a Misdreavus by accident. That was purely self-indulgent, and it just didn't fit with the timeline, so I decided to stop writing that AU. It was really more that I wanted to focus on The Other Stories, and only had 3 short chapters planned. (The one where the little ghost gets herself stuck in Raven's mind had so much potential! But I didn't know how to write Raven's emoticlones in without Raven becoming aware of it. And now that I think about it, that could've been what got Dove to send her back.. But, eh, I've long lost the story file for it, and long LONG lost interest.)

If anyone tells you "A Work of Magic" is abandoned, they're wRONG, I'm just really, really caught up in Dove's struggle with DDD and Srentha and Steven Universe (even if I'm not really writing that fic most of the time), so my inspiration to write that story with As Much Lighthearted Fun Silliness as it deserves is seriously impaired. =w=;;

Oh, but I did kind of abandon the story from Sieara's point of view, because honestly, I'd rather just explore her through Dove. (That little bird gets plenty of epic spotlight moments; she even channels Azar's spirit at one point. Or two. ;P ) But mostly, I abandoned it because I didn't want to write about a bird being too old to reproduce, getting close to death, and then dying, anymore? (It was going to be about her noticing Dove spending more time with Srentha, Srentha's bird dying, and Sieara meeting Dove's daughter, and dying shortly after. But I... don't know, I didn't want to write that Angst without a Resolution.) I wrote that story for Exactly 1 Day, and then decided to stick to writing about her through Dove.

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to? I fully intend to do sequels to all of them, thank you very much.~ (At least for the TT fics, all of them are connected in some way. A Work of Magic has both a sequel and a prequel planned. And the Steven Universe fic is really only planned for One Conflict, I really don't want to explore it much beyond that singular unit of Canon Divergence.)

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently? That would be akin to lying, with the way my stories and my characters go.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire? thechroniclerjon, holy stars and envy batman. This is one writer who knows how to build a conflict, write magic in a way that's both Believable, and Relatable, and Awesome, and interweaves different plot threads into one rather EPIC confrontation. Obviously I couldn't take the element of religion into my stories, being so totally personally disconnected from it. (spirituality? ABSOLUTELY. Let me explore aLL the Azarathean feels!) But like. Those descriptions. The conversations. The build-up. The plot-twists. The raw emotion. I aspire, very much, to someday, in my own way, find a style that translates as much Excitement and Tension and Delight as his stories manage to convey.

Also, the author of Learning to Breathe Underwater, because that story had amazingly spot-on characterization, included so many canon elements (despite being Canon Divergent) while still having its own (very well escalated, incredibly well-executed!) plot! I write for the Teen Titans universe far more than Steven Universe, but I really admire their way of including basically every single character, giving them plenty of attention and growth, and giving a lot of them development in the process. I don't know if I could do that, but someday, I'd like to try.

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it? The old Mystery Sickness. Like, the first version. It was, ah... originally what I now call an "emvent", and if you know what that is, great; if not, I don't want to go into details, but it's a story that helps me process my phobia? Which, geez, poor Raven okay, but what's really "cringe" about it is the way I narrated it in first-person. XD Weird metaphors, she had a Detective Noir tone for some reason, and let's just say there's a reason I never shared any of the panels. (I kept it secret because of the phobia. Equally as horrifying, I kept it in words because of the pictures.)

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence? Silence, but I prefer gentle background noises I'm used to. (Like birds fluttering around, gentle aquarium filters and the water rippling, wind in the trees, etc. It's an ADD thing; lowkey background noise, if kept at a distance, helps me focus.)

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes? Eh. I have the Occasional Mood for it... like, once a year. 8P But generally, I'm just Not Interested. Sure, Dove and Srentha have... done some things that would entertain fans of the genre. And actually, some things that get borderline supernatural. But mostly, I'd just really rather be writing other things.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story? Oh, stars. Yes... Yes. Dove's Dark Discovery. (I drew on... an awful lot of personal experiences, and none of them were good.) Plus, her guilt and self-flagellating... let's just say it's a major Depression Mood. Also noteworthy: I cried writing the Death Sequence and farewell letter in Spellbound pt. II. I've cried for Dove's loss of Azarath, and her mother. I've cried for the things Dove and Srentha tell Leyla when she's really struggling (because, dear gods, if only I'd heard those words when I was a kid)... It doesn't happen often. But sometimes, it just... gets overwhelming.

26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write? ASK ABOUT ANY OF THEm, because DEAR GODS, there are PLENTY. But the hardest of all was DDD. I struggled with describing how/why an Extremely Gentle, Timid Pacifist was suddenly Losing Herself to Internal Evil, and doing Terrible Things. I struggled to capture the IMMENSITY of the mindscape battle, both in how these two Incredibly Powerful Demi-demons were unleashing their powers, and also in how much of a personal toll it takes on BOTH of them afterwards. And now, I'm struggling to find the words for Dove in the aftermath, because... Gods, there's just so much turmoil and emotion. It echoes an awful lot of Seriously Dangerous Depression Thoughts, right down to suicide ideation and lashing out at the people she loves because she doesn't think she deserves them, and aren't they all fools for loving her. All I can say is thank god Raven's such a realistic beacon of hope, because (much like she did for me, come to think of it) she's able to help Dove battle those thoughts with reminders, wisdom, and hope.

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow? This one depends entirely on the story. Generally, it's really quite sporadic and incidental. I write out the scenes as they come to me (usually WAY out of order), and then figure out how they all fit together. Sometimes I don't even realize two scenes are in the same story at first! Or how they're related. I tend to write the beginning, several scenes from When Things Are Very Serious, then go back to fill in the blanks. A lot of times the climax happens either before I know how to start the story, before I know what led up to it, or before I know how it ends. (DDD began with the climax scene. Heart to Heart began with realizing Srentha had a heart attack as a child.)

And then other times, it begins with a vague concept, and I start writing right at the beginning. (Something Special was first written at the beginning, with Srentha performing a spell. I didn't know what it was going to do, just that it was Relevant. A Work of Magic started with me in the Pokemon world wanting a Misdreavus, and developed into a full-team adventure from there. Unforeseen and Unforesaken, or rather "Unforeseen Surprises" in its original form, starting with the very moment Dove showed up, was written as I went along, knowing which points I wanted to hit before the story was over, but writing the scenes as they came to me.)

A Work of Magic has a lot of travel scenes, and moments that take place in specific areas, with Specific Species, so I had to plan out a timeline from region to region, to make sure they weren't in Sinnoh one day, then encountering a Unova legendary, and battling a psychic type in a Kanto forest the very next day, you know? Then there's DDD, which is such a gradually PROGRESSING story that I definitely had to outline some of the chapters, too. Making sure Dove's gradually growing powers were highlighted, and she wasn't going from Total Telekinetic Failure to Suddenly Really Strong and Breaking The Entire Gym Room in the next scene. That sort of thing.

Either way, it's usually As I'm Writing that I notice the connections, the causes rooted in previous stories or scenes, and the Effects These Incidents Have as I'm writing it out. I always start with An Incident and A Concept, because I wouldn't have a story to write without it. But where it becomes Actual Scenes, and what order I write them, depends entirely on the order I discover them.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction? What a Mary Sue was supposed to be, and that Dove isn't what they claimed. That criticism that so many reviewers threw onto her bio wasn't at all helpful, I didn't know what that meant, let alone how to fix it, and I didn't know how to demonstrate that Dove wasn't, in fact, "entirely like Raven", because she had her own powerset, her own history, and her own personality. To be fair, a lot of the Highlights on Their Differences happen in later stories, and it's the initial shock of "why the frick is wearing those clothes and using that mantra", so of course on first impression, it's like. "Raven? similarities???" But... I don't know, it's just so very OBVIOUS to me that, unless we're talking about Timid!Raven (the emoticlone), their differences are so VAST. And I spent a lot of time, WASTED a lot of time, trying to kill the assumption. It really wasn't worth it.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like? DOVE'S! DARK! DISCOVERY!!! I nearly BROKE myself (both of time AND emotion) writing this thing! I understand that Some Friends can't Do Sadism, but like. This story is 250k words long, I've dumped a GREAT DEAL of my heart and soul into it, and Dove's plight seriously needs to be recognized to understand her growth moving forward. But! There! Are! So! Few! People! READING IT. The story has like 20 reviews on fanfic.net, BUT THE CLIMAX HASn'T GOTTEN ANY yet? ???? Please recognize the metaphorical blood, literal sweat, and literal tears I put into this. Gods. Yes I wish it got WAY more love.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at? That poem from middle school, "The Raven and the Dove"? It's a neat poem, sure. Kind, of, a unique concept? But it's not very well explored, it just goes "here are their differences. They're opposites. But they get along." No explanation of how or why. (That's all in the fanfics.) It's not nearly as rhythmic as Dove's Prophecy, it's not clever, it's not plot-twisty, and as far as poetic cred goes, I don't think it's anything special. ? ?? I mean, somebody found it online, and contacted me via email, and it nearly got PUBLISHED. (But I would've had to pay them to include it in their book, which I wasn't down with.) I just don't understand, literally at all, why so many people really LIKE it.

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec not the answerer) SEND ME FICS, I WILL READ.

32) Are any of your characters based on real people? Nah, they're all based on themselves.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten? My favorite fanfic author read, and then complimented, the (second or third version of?) the climax scene in DDD.~

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten? Mostly just comments on Dove's first bio that went, "She's such a Mary Sue, burn it and scrap her entirely to start fresh"? (Thank *all* the gods that I didn't take that advice, because she's incredible and deserves to exist in her own right.)

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest? Honestly? The first thing I do is WRITE about it. Unless I'm prompted to, or rambling about something that has me Inordinately Emotional, I don't really share them.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s? Don't worry, outside of Azarath's canonical demise, I only ever write somebody ACTUALLY dying once. But she comes back, because that's what she does, apparently.

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written? Bold of you to assume I write comedy! But seriously, probably Srentha's debut story. When he discovers pizza, he assumes pepperoni isn't edible (a fair assumption, really, but he's vegetarian anyways). When he tries the cheese, his reaction is just so DELIGHTFUL and warm; he laughs so hard he's literally crying. The things he says and does when he's sugar-high are hysterical. He's just so exuberant and energetic, absolutely positive, he really brings a load of smiles to the table, and both I and Dove irrevocably love him for it.

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it. I don't know if I have an answer for this. I don't really read a lot of Tumblr fanfics. I've already collaborated with Pix in RPs, my girlfriend and I have already collaborated on stories for both Kary and Pokemon, and the author of The Chronicler Saga implemented one of my scenes into his stories. What more can I really ask for?

I mean, if anyone WANTs to collaborate, just let me know, and I'd love to work something out.

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person? Third person, multiple, and preferably omniscient (or damn close to it)! Exploring everyone's inner workings is Exactly My Style. (And just more fun for me to write.)

40) Do people know you write fanfiction? Well, I only talk about it, like, once every three hours or so. (/sarcasm)

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written? Sieara? Alerina? As for actual Canon Characters, I'm having a righteously wonderful time characterizing Azar. Lapis is fun and interesting to work with, but she's so full of emotional "tides" that it's really hard for me to write for her.

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx. (I have only ever done songfics on papers, and wound up not needing the songs after all. They were all Evanescence, of course.)

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it? Not that I know of! Someone once guessed Dove was Raven's cousin, on Unforeseen+Unforesaken, and I haven't written the climax (when Raven realizes Dove is Trigon's child) yet. That's about the closest anyone has come.

44) What is the last line you wrote? Oh, stars, let me check. (This is where Tracking Changes comes in handy. ;P ) In Nothing Good Lasts Forever, the story that's (possibly going to be renamed "Even in Death", when Raven takes Dove back to Azarath for closure): This may or may not be polished before publishing. But this takes place immediately after Raven pulls Dove from a flashback.

"There's a lot you have to deal with. Your mind has been seriously damaged by what you've been through. I wonder..." And she trailed off there, hesitating, considering the concept before she dared give it voice.

Dove kept looking up at her, confused and seeming entirely absorbed in her analysis. It was so true. Tearing her apart, every time she remembered... The nightmares and flashbacks wouldn't let her forget it.

45) What spurs you on during the writing process? My own excitement, curiosity, and even desperation to learn what happens next! And a general sense of lowkey affectionate "tribute", like I'm the only person with these peoples' stories in my head, and they deserve to have their stories told. And also the hope that, maybe, someone, somewhere, will read the story, and if just ONE person feels their heart soothed or their struggle validated by my writings, then I've done a good thing, and that's all I really want.

46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it? (Someone ask me, because EVERYTHING has sequels, and if you want to know about it, just Ask!)

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made up title. What would this story be about? DO IT??

48) What’s your favourite trope to write? I'm... not sure, entirely, but probably "bullshit [insert genre here] magic".

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about? I remember one OF the first fics I ever read, because for about 7, 8 years, I was SCOURING fanfiction.net to find it again. It was about Raven having terrible visions, Azarath being destroyed, and Robin feeling her pain through their connection, but thinking it was heartburn. And then a group of people dropped in, took Raven away (on a spaceships? Though hyperspace???). And they were going to rebuild Azarath. And I think Robin had just discovered Raven was gone, before the story ended. Oh, and they spelled Azarath like "Azerath". That's all I can remember, but I really do wish I'd known what happened, because that story had me absolutely HOOKED. (But alas, I didn't have an account at the time, and I was reading it at the computer lab.)

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? Ohh, this one's hard. I'd drop smut like it's hot (haha, get it?). But seriously, I'm a 99%-sex-repulsed aroace, and I've only ever written like 5 half-done smut scenes. Imagined a Fair Few more, but they don't keep my interest for the long multi-hour process of editing that comprises my writing process.

This probably means "romantic fluff" though, right? I mean, I HAVE to write angst (because let's be real, without Angst I wouldn't have much of a story, since all of my stories are Driven By Characters Issues, WAY moreso than external events). But I really think the REAL beauty of my characters is how they go through that angst, and COME OUT with each others' support. I don't know how to write angst without someone being supported (i.e. "Hurt/Comfort", really), and I don't know how to write fluff without something Heavy bringing it on.

Secretshipping (Dove+Srentha) is equal parts angst and fluff, because honestly Angst is in Dove's Job Description, and Srentha is so light-hearted and goofy and silly that he balances it out (and Dove has some goof in her, and Srentha has some rare moments of angst, and it's how they interact and balance out and HELP each other through it that really brings them to LIFE together). Kary's whole characterization is because The Angst seriously fucked up her psyche, but scenes between her and Dove (and Yo-yo!), even her future husband, can get seriously silly and fluffy. Leyla's real growth and development comes from Realizing that the World is Not Like her Sheltered Life. (And how she doesn't want to expose her parents to Her Angst.) But it's also the fluffy deep softness and sincerity she and her parents share that gets her through these realizations. So like... Angst and fluff go hand-in-hand for me? I wouldn't be able to write one without the other.

#rhs fanfics #rhs personal writing #rhs personal art

[timespakistan]

A silent devotion | Art & Culture | thenews.com.pk Suluk Wandering 14 If colour could only paralyse the viewer’s mind and imagination, it is here. Think of the opposite sensation. Of colours sombre, soft, so filled with angst that it could be a “bleeding piece of heart.” This is Shireen Kamran. In terms of colour, this is a sensation that is resonant, far from impulsive art. What matter are the qualities of paint and the art of painting itself. Kamran’s identity of abstraction is the artist expressing herself via colour and formlessness born out of the contemplated idiom. We are given the landscape or the mindscape by Kamran as concrete emotions. This is not enthusiasm; but there is introspection and self-freedom. Kamran’s work is neither spectacular nor demonstrative. It doesn’t shout; it whispers, and then falls silent. The silence in her art, within the works and between them, is not unlike our own calculated gulfs of silence, into which we fall and reveal ourselves, even as we resist. It is clear that she likes to play off strong accents against delicate rendering, adroitly manipulating these strategies to set up arhythmic exchange. The moody lyricism of her images can suggest tranquility as swiftly as it can anxiety; it negotiates a formal counterpoint between balance and disturbance, integrates fragments of composite and contradictory cohesions only to set them once more adrift. You look for signs to see if her pain is palpable. Tensions are created on the surface, and then intentions and dichotomies break cover. As the paint is banked down or piled up, or stroked in brisk staccato bristles, a mystery of infinitude develops. In her life practice, Shireen Kamran has cultivated a singular vocabulary of abstraction and landscape. The conceptual grounds of the oeuvre that went on show at Canvas Art Gallery in Karachi as Hiatus remain in dialogue with laws of the universe, the cyclicality of time as well as a manifest relatedness between human beings and the webbed fabric of ecology. This painterly world is textured with knowledge references that the artist has attuned to over a period of time – from realms as diverse as archaeology, ancient architecture, art history, sacred philosophy and poetry. The Lebanese American writer-poet and painter Etel Adnan reflects: “When you speak of transformation, you have a combination or contrast of a substratum – something that is permanent and something that changes. There is a notion of continuity in transformation.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. The continuity is also borne of technical choices – the artist has persisted in working with mixed-media since she began to paint. Through landscapes and cityscapes bearing resonant forms in lines, elemental shapes and dots, the artist maintains a consciousness around the geometric symbolism and symmetries held within nature. At times, the transformation of seasons plays out in these lively surfaces – from spring fever, a passage of wind currents, to the gathering of rain clouds, all becoming intimately conveyed in the sense boundaries of Kamran’s palette. In the artist’s words, “The signs of sound, touch, smell and shades of colour that emanate from a forgotten incident create an instant marker in the mind creating an emotive spirit. The mind holds on to that and finds a release in the act of painting. Painting soaks us in this spirit.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. Crooked trees entwine around a field of crops, while an eclipsed moon rests upon bare branches. Indian red and leaf green borders are marked on either side of the painting; these ways of framing the landscape are reminiscent of traditional scrolls and Basohli-style paintings, and often remind one of Howard Hodgkin’s abstracts inspired largely, by his own admission, by the Indian miniature. Some works appear tactile in their composition, providing a sense of dimensionality to the backdrop and detailed foreground: flowers with bending stems that appear as still life subjects of a Giorgio Morandi painting; tantric symbols float upon an ochre pigment ground. They meet an inverted mountainside, minuscule wave formations – and then the ground becomes a garden. Licks of blood fire and white sails are impressed into an earthen scene that resembles how earth tones transform with the passage of time. In another painting, moving lines open up to a terrestrial gradient of soil, shattering the linear gaze into a circulation. In the meditative spatial density of Kamran’s recent works there is still the quiet comprehension of the philosophic condition of formlessness. Some of the earth shades exposed in the artist’s work allude to the contours of baked clay. In fact, the artist’s home and studio remain filled with collections of clay figurines and wood crafted objects that compose an archive of living traditions. These cultural artefacts expose Kamran’s cultivated understanding of how modernist idiom remains uniquely connected to artisanal vocabularies and vernacular knowledge from across the subcontinent. Across her painterly work, especially in the past decade, rhythm construction becomes strongly manifest as Kamran’s strokes begin to appear as score lines for a song composition – with secret scripts that appear to settle upon azure patches and golden yellow ripe meadows. These are Kandinsky like, where colour flows resonate as visual chords and elicit synesthetic encounters. Shireen Kamran has cultivated a sensorial practice of seeing, which considers that the unknown element is inevitably encompassed in the composition of the known – like hidden galaxies that remain beyond calculation to the human eye, but nevertheless light up the celestial skies. This artist charts terrains of the sensed, rather than remaining controlled by a frontier of directly consumable reality. Thus, she builds image constellations as a limitless space. There is no way to remain unmoved in the company of Kamran’s paintings; they present a complex structure of feeling and planetary belonging within the dark vulnerability of our present. There is no grandeur here in these landscapes or mindscapes – there is only a spiritual quietude that propels itself into the extension of the self that retracts from the universe, to find another world. A world that diminishes the desire for external alacrities and multiplies the quest for transcendentalism. For Shireen Kamran, this desire is propelled by an overriding sense of mingled vulnerability to the outer world that results in the magnification of both curiosity and abject desolation. The dialectic between the inner and the outer world is not the only one mediated in these paintings: Kamran’s landscapes are like mappings that reverberate with a series of adjacent assimilations and associations. This is moody lyricism at its best, like the sunset that swathes the sky in its tenacity of multi-coloured hues; it is the torrent of darkness that creeps into the shades of trees; it is the ghostly galleon that vanishes from sight when the cloud of anxiety disturbs its very entity. Silent devotion for Kamran does not merely mirror a day, it is life in itself; it is the sunset of expectation that has drowned in the abyss of destiny. This is why the silent devotion becomes the negotiator. The writer is an art   critic based in Islamabad https://timespakistan.com/a-silent-devotion-art-culture-thenews-com-pk/11821/?wpwautoposter=1614495669

[timespakistan]

A silent devotion | Art & Culture | thenews.com.pk Suluk Wandering 14 If colour could only paralyse the viewer’s mind and imagination, it is here. Think of the opposite sensation. Of colours sombre, soft, so filled with angst that it could be a “bleeding piece of heart.” This is Shireen Kamran. In terms of colour, this is a sensation that is resonant, far from impulsive art. What matter are the qualities of paint and the art of painting itself. Kamran’s identity of abstraction is the artist expressing herself via colour and formlessness born out of the contemplated idiom. We are given the landscape or the mindscape by Kamran as concrete emotions. This is not enthusiasm; but there is introspection and self-freedom. Kamran’s work is neither spectacular nor demonstrative. It doesn’t shout; it whispers, and then falls silent. The silence in her art, within the works and between them, is not unlike our own calculated gulfs of silence, into which we fall and reveal ourselves, even as we resist. It is clear that she likes to play off strong accents against delicate rendering, adroitly manipulating these strategies to set up arhythmic exchange. The moody lyricism of her images can suggest tranquility as swiftly as it can anxiety; it negotiates a formal counterpoint between balance and disturbance, integrates fragments of composite and contradictory cohesions only to set them once more adrift. You look for signs to see if her pain is palpable. Tensions are created on the surface, and then intentions and dichotomies break cover. As the paint is banked down or piled up, or stroked in brisk staccato bristles, a mystery of infinitude develops. In her life practice, Shireen Kamran has cultivated a singular vocabulary of abstraction and landscape. The conceptual grounds of the oeuvre that went on show at Canvas Art Gallery in Karachi as Hiatus remain in dialogue with laws of the universe, the cyclicality of time as well as a manifest relatedness between human beings and the webbed fabric of ecology. This painterly world is textured with knowledge references that the artist has attuned to over a period of time – from realms as diverse as archaeology, ancient architecture, art history, sacred philosophy and poetry. The Lebanese American writer-poet and painter Etel Adnan reflects: “When you speak of transformation, you have a combination or contrast of a substratum – something that is permanent and something that changes. There is a notion of continuity in transformation.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. The continuity is also borne of technical choices – the artist has persisted in working with mixed-media since she began to paint. Through landscapes and cityscapes bearing resonant forms in lines, elemental shapes and dots, the artist maintains a consciousness around the geometric symbolism and symmetries held within nature. At times, the transformation of seasons plays out in these lively surfaces – from spring fever, a passage of wind currents, to the gathering of rain clouds, all becoming intimately conveyed in the sense boundaries of Kamran’s palette. In the artist’s words, “The signs of sound, touch, smell and shades of colour that emanate from a forgotten incident create an instant marker in the mind creating an emotive spirit. The mind holds on to that and finds a release in the act of painting. Painting soaks us in this spirit.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. Crooked trees entwine around a field of crops, while an eclipsed moon rests upon bare branches. Indian red and leaf green borders are marked on either side of the painting; these ways of framing the landscape are reminiscent of traditional scrolls and Basohli-style paintings, and often remind one of Howard Hodgkin’s abstracts inspired largely, by his own admission, by the Indian miniature. Some works appear tactile in their composition, providing a sense of dimensionality to the backdrop and detailed foreground: flowers with bending stems that appear as still life subjects of a Giorgio Morandi painting; tantric symbols float upon an ochre pigment ground. They meet an inverted mountainside, minuscule wave formations – and then the ground becomes a garden. Licks of blood fire and white sails are impressed into an earthen scene that resembles how earth tones transform with the passage of time. In another painting, moving lines open up to a terrestrial gradient of soil, shattering the linear gaze into a circulation. In the meditative spatial density of Kamran’s recent works there is still the quiet comprehension of the philosophic condition of formlessness. Some of the earth shades exposed in the artist’s work allude to the contours of baked clay. In fact, the artist’s home and studio remain filled with collections of clay figurines and wood crafted objects that compose an archive of living traditions. These cultural artefacts expose Kamran’s cultivated understanding of how modernist idiom remains uniquely connected to artisanal vocabularies and vernacular knowledge from across the subcontinent. Across her painterly work, especially in the past decade, rhythm construction becomes strongly manifest as Kamran’s strokes begin to appear as score lines for a song composition – with secret scripts that appear to settle upon azure patches and golden yellow ripe meadows. These are Kandinsky like, where colour flows resonate as visual chords and elicit synesthetic encounters. Shireen Kamran has cultivated a sensorial practice of seeing, which considers that the unknown element is inevitably encompassed in the composition of the known – like hidden galaxies that remain beyond calculation to the human eye, but nevertheless light up the celestial skies. This artist charts terrains of the sensed, rather than remaining controlled by a frontier of directly consumable reality. Thus, she builds image constellations as a limitless space. There is no way to remain unmoved in the company of Kamran’s paintings; they present a complex structure of feeling and planetary belonging within the dark vulnerability of our present. There is no grandeur here in these landscapes or mindscapes – there is only a spiritual quietude that propels itself into the extension of the self that retracts from the universe, to find another world. A world that diminishes the desire for external alacrities and multiplies the quest for transcendentalism. For Shireen Kamran, this desire is propelled by an overriding sense of mingled vulnerability to the outer world that results in the magnification of both curiosity and abject desolation. The dialectic between the inner and the outer world is not the only one mediated in these paintings: Kamran’s landscapes are like mappings that reverberate with a series of adjacent assimilations and associations. This is moody lyricism at its best, like the sunset that swathes the sky in its tenacity of multi-coloured hues; it is the torrent of darkness that creeps into the shades of trees; it is the ghostly galleon that vanishes from sight when the cloud of anxiety disturbs its very entity. Silent devotion for Kamran does not merely mirror a day, it is life in itself; it is the sunset of expectation that has drowned in the abyss of destiny. This is why the silent devotion becomes the negotiator. The writer is an art   critic based in Islamabad https://timespakistan.com/a-silent-devotion-art-culture-thenews-com-pk/11821/?wpwautoposter=1614492023

[timespakistan]

A silent devotion | Art & Culture | thenews.com.pk Suluk Wandering 14 If colour could only paralyse the viewer’s mind and imagination, it is here. Think of the opposite sensation. Of colours sombre, soft, so filled with angst that it could be a “bleeding piece of heart.” This is Shireen Kamran. In terms of colour, this is a sensation that is resonant, far from impulsive art. What matter are the qualities of paint and the art of painting itself. Kamran’s identity of abstraction is the artist expressing herself via colour and formlessness born out of the contemplated idiom. We are given the landscape or the mindscape by Kamran as concrete emotions. This is not enthusiasm; but there is introspection and self-freedom. Kamran’s work is neither spectacular nor demonstrative. It doesn’t shout; it whispers, and then falls silent. The silence in her art, within the works and between them, is not unlike our own calculated gulfs of silence, into which we fall and reveal ourselves, even as we resist. It is clear that she likes to play off strong accents against delicate rendering, adroitly manipulating these strategies to set up arhythmic exchange. The moody lyricism of her images can suggest tranquility as swiftly as it can anxiety; it negotiates a formal counterpoint between balance and disturbance, integrates fragments of composite and contradictory cohesions only to set them once more adrift. You look for signs to see if her pain is palpable. Tensions are created on the surface, and then intentions and dichotomies break cover. As the paint is banked down or piled up, or stroked in brisk staccato bristles, a mystery of infinitude develops. In her life practice, Shireen Kamran has cultivated a singular vocabulary of abstraction and landscape. The conceptual grounds of the oeuvre that went on show at Canvas Art Gallery in Karachi as Hiatus remain in dialogue with laws of the universe, the cyclicality of time as well as a manifest relatedness between human beings and the webbed fabric of ecology. This painterly world is textured with knowledge references that the artist has attuned to over a period of time – from realms as diverse as archaeology, ancient architecture, art history, sacred philosophy and poetry. The Lebanese American writer-poet and painter Etel Adnan reflects: “When you speak of transformation, you have a combination or contrast of a substratum – something that is permanent and something that changes. There is a notion of continuity in transformation.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. The continuity is also borne of technical choices – the artist has persisted in working with mixed-media since she began to paint. Through landscapes and cityscapes bearing resonant forms in lines, elemental shapes and dots, the artist maintains a consciousness around the geometric symbolism and symmetries held within nature. At times, the transformation of seasons plays out in these lively surfaces – from spring fever, a passage of wind currents, to the gathering of rain clouds, all becoming intimately conveyed in the sense boundaries of Kamran’s palette. In the artist’s words, “The signs of sound, touch, smell and shades of colour that emanate from a forgotten incident create an instant marker in the mind creating an emotive spirit. The mind holds on to that and finds a release in the act of painting. Painting soaks us in this spirit.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. Crooked trees entwine around a field of crops, while an eclipsed moon rests upon bare branches. Indian red and leaf green borders are marked on either side of the painting; these ways of framing the landscape are reminiscent of traditional scrolls and Basohli-style paintings, and often remind one of Howard Hodgkin’s abstracts inspired largely, by his own admission, by the Indian miniature. Some works appear tactile in their composition, providing a sense of dimensionality to the backdrop and detailed foreground: flowers with bending stems that appear as still life subjects of a Giorgio Morandi painting; tantric symbols float upon an ochre pigment ground. They meet an inverted mountainside, minuscule wave formations – and then the ground becomes a garden. Licks of blood fire and white sails are impressed into an earthen scene that resembles how earth tones transform with the passage of time. In another painting, moving lines open up to a terrestrial gradient of soil, shattering the linear gaze into a circulation. In the meditative spatial density of Kamran’s recent works there is still the quiet comprehension of the philosophic condition of formlessness. Some of the earth shades exposed in the artist’s work allude to the contours of baked clay. In fact, the artist’s home and studio remain filled with collections of clay figurines and wood crafted objects that compose an archive of living traditions. These cultural artefacts expose Kamran’s cultivated understanding of how modernist idiom remains uniquely connected to artisanal vocabularies and vernacular knowledge from across the subcontinent. Across her painterly work, especially in the past decade, rhythm construction becomes strongly manifest as Kamran’s strokes begin to appear as score lines for a song composition – with secret scripts that appear to settle upon azure patches and golden yellow ripe meadows. These are Kandinsky like, where colour flows resonate as visual chords and elicit synesthetic encounters. Shireen Kamran has cultivated a sensorial practice of seeing, which considers that the unknown element is inevitably encompassed in the composition of the known – like hidden galaxies that remain beyond calculation to the human eye, but nevertheless light up the celestial skies. This artist charts terrains of the sensed, rather than remaining controlled by a frontier of directly consumable reality. Thus, she builds image constellations as a limitless space. There is no way to remain unmoved in the company of Kamran’s paintings; they present a complex structure of feeling and planetary belonging within the dark vulnerability of our present. There is no grandeur here in these landscapes or mindscapes – there is only a spiritual quietude that propels itself into the extension of the self that retracts from the universe, to find another world. A world that diminishes the desire for external alacrities and multiplies the quest for transcendentalism. For Shireen Kamran, this desire is propelled by an overriding sense of mingled vulnerability to the outer world that results in the magnification of both curiosity and abject desolation. The dialectic between the inner and the outer world is not the only one mediated in these paintings: Kamran’s landscapes are like mappings that reverberate with a series of adjacent assimilations and associations. This is moody lyricism at its best, like the sunset that swathes the sky in its tenacity of multi-coloured hues; it is the torrent of darkness that creeps into the shades of trees; it is the ghostly galleon that vanishes from sight when the cloud of anxiety disturbs its very entity. Silent devotion for Kamran does not merely mirror a day, it is life in itself; it is the sunset of expectation that has drowned in the abyss of destiny. This is why the silent devotion becomes the negotiator. The writer is an art   critic based in Islamabad https://timespakistan.com/a-silent-devotion-art-culture-thenews-com-pk/11821/?wpwautoposter=1614484836

[timespakistan]

A silent devotion | Art & Culture | thenews.com.pk Suluk Wandering 14 If colour could only paralyse the viewer’s mind and imagination, it is here. Think of the opposite sensation. Of colours sombre, soft, so filled with angst that it could be a “bleeding piece of heart.” This is Shireen Kamran. In terms of colour, this is a sensation that is resonant, far from impulsive art. What matter are the qualities of paint and the art of painting itself. Kamran’s identity of abstraction is the artist expressing herself via colour and formlessness born out of the contemplated idiom. We are given the landscape or the mindscape by Kamran as concrete emotions. This is not enthusiasm; but there is introspection and self-freedom. Kamran’s work is neither spectacular nor demonstrative. It doesn’t shout; it whispers, and then falls silent. The silence in her art, within the works and between them, is not unlike our own calculated gulfs of silence, into which we fall and reveal ourselves, even as we resist. It is clear that she likes to play off strong accents against delicate rendering, adroitly manipulating these strategies to set up arhythmic exchange. The moody lyricism of her images can suggest tranquility as swiftly as it can anxiety; it negotiates a formal counterpoint between balance and disturbance, integrates fragments of composite and contradictory cohesions only to set them once more adrift. You look for signs to see if her pain is palpable. Tensions are created on the surface, and then intentions and dichotomies break cover. As the paint is banked down or piled up, or stroked in brisk staccato bristles, a mystery of infinitude develops. In her life practice, Shireen Kamran has cultivated a singular vocabulary of abstraction and landscape. The conceptual grounds of the oeuvre that went on show at Canvas Art Gallery in Karachi as Hiatus remain in dialogue with laws of the universe, the cyclicality of time as well as a manifest relatedness between human beings and the webbed fabric of ecology. This painterly world is textured with knowledge references that the artist has attuned to over a period of time – from realms as diverse as archaeology, ancient architecture, art history, sacred philosophy and poetry. The Lebanese American writer-poet and painter Etel Adnan reflects: “When you speak of transformation, you have a combination or contrast of a substratum – something that is permanent and something that changes. There is a notion of continuity in transformation.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. The continuity is also borne of technical choices – the artist has persisted in working with mixed-media since she began to paint. Through landscapes and cityscapes bearing resonant forms in lines, elemental shapes and dots, the artist maintains a consciousness around the geometric symbolism and symmetries held within nature. At times, the transformation of seasons plays out in these lively surfaces – from spring fever, a passage of wind currents, to the gathering of rain clouds, all becoming intimately conveyed in the sense boundaries of Kamran’s palette. In the artist’s words, “The signs of sound, touch, smell and shades of colour that emanate from a forgotten incident create an instant marker in the mind creating an emotive spirit. The mind holds on to that and finds a release in the act of painting. Painting soaks us in this spirit.” It is this foundational continuity in the artistic journey as a transformative process that is revealed in Kamran’s latest body of paintings – tracing a steady pictorial lexicon as the bedrock of experience yet enabling a renewed quality of transcendence, like a view outside the window or an undulating walking trail. Crooked trees entwine around a field of crops, while an eclipsed moon rests upon bare branches. Indian red and leaf green borders are marked on either side of the painting; these ways of framing the landscape are reminiscent of traditional scrolls and Basohli-style paintings, and often remind one of Howard Hodgkin’s abstracts inspired largely, by his own admission, by the Indian miniature. Some works appear tactile in their composition, providing a sense of dimensionality to the backdrop and detailed foreground: flowers with bending stems that appear as still life subjects of a Giorgio Morandi painting; tantric symbols float upon an ochre pigment ground. They meet an inverted mountainside, minuscule wave formations – and then the ground becomes a garden. Licks of blood fire and white sails are impressed into an earthen scene that resembles how earth tones transform with the passage of time. In another painting, moving lines open up to a terrestrial gradient of soil, shattering the linear gaze into a circulation. In the meditative spatial density of Kamran’s recent works there is still the quiet comprehension of the philosophic condition of formlessness. Some of the earth shades exposed in the artist’s work allude to the contours of baked clay. In fact, the artist’s home and studio remain filled with collections of clay figurines and wood crafted objects that compose an archive of living traditions. These cultural artefacts expose Kamran’s cultivated understanding of how modernist idiom remains uniquely connected to artisanal vocabularies and vernacular knowledge from across the subcontinent. Across her painterly work, especially in the past decade, rhythm construction becomes strongly manifest as Kamran’s strokes begin to appear as score lines for a song composition – with secret scripts that appear to settle upon azure patches and golden yellow ripe meadows. These are Kandinsky like, where colour flows resonate as visual chords and elicit synesthetic encounters. Shireen Kamran has cultivated a sensorial practice of seeing, which considers that the unknown element is inevitably encompassed in the composition of the known – like hidden galaxies that remain beyond calculation to the human eye, but nevertheless light up the celestial skies. This artist charts terrains of the sensed, rather than remaining controlled by a frontier of directly consumable reality. Thus, she builds image constellations as a limitless space. There is no way to remain unmoved in the company of Kamran’s paintings; they present a complex structure of feeling and planetary belonging within the dark vulnerability of our present. There is no grandeur here in these landscapes or mindscapes – there is only a spiritual quietude that propels itself into the extension of the self that retracts from the universe, to find another world. A world that diminishes the desire for external alacrities and multiplies the quest for transcendentalism. For Shireen Kamran, this desire is propelled by an overriding sense of mingled vulnerability to the outer world that results in the magnification of both curiosity and abject desolation. The dialectic between the inner and the outer world is not the only one mediated in these paintings: Kamran’s landscapes are like mappings that reverberate with a series of adjacent assimilations and associations. This is moody lyricism at its best, like the sunset that swathes the sky in its tenacity of multi-coloured hues; it is the torrent of darkness that creeps into the shades of trees; it is the ghostly galleon that vanishes from sight when the cloud of anxiety disturbs its very entity. Silent devotion for Kamran does not merely mirror a day, it is life in itself; it is the sunset of expectation that has drowned in the abyss of destiny. This is why the silent devotion becomes the negotiator. The writer is an art   critic based in Islamabad https://timespakistan.com/a-silent-devotion-art-culture-thenews-com-pk/11821/