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yukidragon · 4 months

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Sunny Day Jack - Grand Pas de Deux

Inspiration struck me and ordered me to write all night without sleep thanks to gorgeous angsty art and talk of MC angst on a server with my pals, and they encouraged me to finish a plot bunny that I had put in my scraps for being too dark and depressing.

Let that be your warning that this a rough draft containing a lot of dark and sad themes ahead, though let’s get to the content warnings anyway.

Content warnings: This story centers around death and contains major characters dying, grieving, hospitals, sickness, loneliness, isolation, depression, dark imagery, suicidal ideation, abusive family dynamics, trauma, PTSD, codependency, and a hint of spice.

Yes, there’s some fluff in this with my OTP too. I could not resist the allure of adding comfort after such intense hurt as a story of loss and death. I am a weak marshmallow who needs my OTP to have a happy ending together even when trying to write angst, hahahaha. Just think of it a little bit of gold to put the broken pieces back together and make a new, beautifully flawed container now filled with love.

Also it's a good excuse to write about lots of comforting hugs, passionate smooches, and tender touches while emotions are running high.

This short story is based on the reincarnation storyline, as discussed in the big reincarnation headcanon post, as well as this previous post, this spicy pov story, and this reunion story with Jack and Alice’s past incarnations, Joseph and Mary.

The Incident of 1984 was a tragedy that those who witnessed it could never forget it, especially if they cared at all for the fallen star of the once beloved SunnyTime Crew Show, Sunny Day Jack. Mary would always remember that day, and the man behind the makeup, the person who she loved more than life itself.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

...

Heavy breathing and the constant piercing beeping of the heart monitor. Together they performed a somber symphony. They were the only company Mary had in the lonely hospital room while pain tore through her insides without end.

She lasted longer than the death sentence the doctor gave her back when she was a child, back when she still had someone who would hold her while she cried about her diagnosis… someone who made her feel loved.

There was no one to hold her now. Joseph was… gone. He would never hold her and whisper sweet words of love in her ear ever again. She would never feel his warmth again, the way his chest would rumble pleasantly with laughter when he told a goofy joke to lighten her spirits. He couldn’t promise her that he would be there for her no matter what, that he would help her defy her diagnosis and keep living. With him. He loved her so much. He always said that he couldn’t live without her.

Mary couldn’t live without Joseph either.

Mary slept when she could, but sleep was a peace that constantly eluded and mocked her. The waking world was only pain and loneliness. Sleep was her only escape from the painful rotting shell she was trapped inside. Sometimes she even dreamed of happier times, of a life without pain, full of love with someone whose smile was made of sunshine.

But most times the pain refused to let her escape even in sleep. It burrowed into her dreams and turned them into nightmares. Her body failed her, warping into a grotesque abomination that decayed all around her, and the man she loved more than the world died countless times before her eyes. She relived the gunshots, that shower of blood, the screams. Her subconscious sometimes made it even worse than reality, and Joseph was left desperately clinging to life, gurgling her name weakly as he choked on his own blood.

Then there were the nightmares where Joseph was trapped in hell. Mary heard his desperate pleas for her to save him, to not forget him, but she could never reach him. She couldn’t move, trapped under an inescapable weight. Chains made of pain bound her to the body that was dying all around her, where eating, or even breathing, only brought her more suffering.

A new sound - birdsong - pulled Mary from the dark spiral of her thoughts, if just enough to open her eyes. It was high pitched and grating, a piercing sound far too cheerful to the point that it was almost mocking.

Someone had opened up the window, a nurse most likely, probably in an attempt to cheer Mary up with a view of the glorious morning sky. Her family certainly hadn’t done it. Maybe they visited her when she was first brought to the hospital when her world was nothing but a blur of shock and agony, or maybe they didn’t. Maybe they already forgot about her.

Why would they come? Mary Phoenix, their failure daughter, was no longer their problem after all.

A warm breeze made the curtains sway in a playful dance, the movement beckoning her eye to the world outside that continued on as if it hadn’t ended that horrible bloodstained day. The sky was bright and blue, far too colorful for a world without Joseph. The light glared through the branches of a tree not far from her hospital room, piercing into her eyes like a million needles. Mary couldn’t see the birds that decided to intrude upon her misery, forced to squint then close her eyes to shut out the light that hurt to see, but she hoped they would go away. The high pitched tones hurt, scraping into her brain and forcing her to stay awake, forcing her to experience even more pain. She wanted them to shut up, to stop.

She wanted everything to stop.

It was already over, the world just refused to admit it. The show had ended, the performance ending in tragedy. Her role in the end was the grieving widow whose lover died on stage before the demanding crowd, leaving the curtains to close on her weeping over his still and lifeless body.

Yet the world insisted that the show continue. Just like when the children in the studio audience cried and the blood slowly pooled in a fake primary colored set, the cameras were still recording, still insisting that the show wasn’t over yet, even when the sun had been shot out of the sky.

The hospital staff were the stagehands, forcing Mary to keep playing the part of the grieving widow for an audience that no longer cared to watch her macabre dance. They expected her to perform a variation that should have been a pas de deux. She was a puppet, dancing only due to strings made of sterilized tubing filled with fluids, directed by empty words of so-called encouragement. Their fake smiles were nothing more than a comedy mask, when the only face she could wear was a tragedy.

Who was Mary dancing for?

The show was a farce, a mockery of hope for brighter days. Even if Mary somehow found the strength to move without these strings, she would only be dancing to an empty studio with no audience. They expected her to continue the performance even though no one cared to continue watching. They moved on to the next show, the next thing bright, colorful, beautiful, and alive.

No one was waiting for Mary to get better. No one would mourn her.

Mary lost Joseph before, but back then she held hope that maybe someday they could meet again. She had so many hopes, of a future where she created stories, like the ones that kept her hopes alive even in her empty room where her parents didn’t even bother to check up on her. She wanted to create vast colorful worlds like the ones she imagined whenever she closed her eyes, her only true company during those long and empty days alone. She wanted to touch other people, people like her who just wanted to believe in a world better than this one. She wanted to get better, to make friends, create a family of her own, to feel loved and appreciated.

She once hoped to live.

There was a stack of books by her bed on the nightstand beside the untouched lunch tray, a token offering of something to pass the time in an empty room with only four walls and a single window that invited in blinding sunlight and screeching birds to keep Mary company. She even recognized one of the books, a story that once brought her comfort many a long and lonely night.

Mary hadn’t bothered to open any of them. What was the point? What was there to hope for now?

The dream was dead. The show she gave up so much for was over. The leading man in her life had exited the stage for the last time. The supporting cast took their bows and left for new roles. The audience left to search for something new without a backward glance.

The producers burned the studio to the ground.

A wheezing breath escaped Mary, a bitter sound that was the ghost of a laugh. The SunnyTime Crew Show, that damn show. If she never pitched it in the first place, if she never used what few connections she managed to create to give Joseph that part, would things have ended differently?

With closed eyes, Mary was back in the audience, watching the final filming of the SunnyTime Crew Show, the final performance of Sunny Day Jack. The gunman’s accusations were cruel. She saw the way they cut right to the heart of Joseph from the pain in his face. The hatred the assailant had for Joseph Cullman was all consuming. Those dark eyes burned with a need for revenge so bright and terrible that only death could douse the flames.

Everything was gone. The show, her dreams, her future, and the only person who ever truly loved her. Only ashes remained.

Ashes, and the macabre dance of the corpse that was expected to continue to perform in a world that had already moved on without her.

It was harder for Mary to open her eyes again. The world was a blur of color, golden hues as the sun dipped down out of sight in the other half of the sky, far from sight. The tray was gone, but the books remained, untouched, but now completely unreadable.

When Mary was young, she wished for a different life, one where she was healthy and happy, one where she made countless friends and made dreams come true, one filled with all the love in the world.

There was no more love left for Mary in this world. The only hope left was that childish wish of going to another world where she would be loved.

Maybe there, Mary would find Joseph once again.

Everything went quiet. The air grew colder with the window shut and the sun gone. It was so dark, with only a single pinprick of light left in the sky.

Starlight, star bright…

The beeping of the machines around her was growing more annoying, but distant, an obnoxious final theme song punctuated by the crescendo of the chorus that came rushing in for the finale at last.

First star I see tonight…

Mary couldn’t see the stars anymore.

Oh starlight… I wish… I could see you again…

The strings that forced her to dance were being directed more violently now, but they couldn’t stop her rusted ball joints from crumbling to ash, as her decaying body unraveled at the seams.

If we… could be reborn… I hope… you love me again…

The stagehands weren’t wearing their comedy masks anymore. They moved furiously to keep the performance going, but the strings were pulling out the hooks in the limbs and caused the stuffing in her belly to spill out.

Joseph… I love you… forever…

The soundtrack wound down until all that remained was the final tone of a flatline that slowly faded away to static.

Star… light…

…

She woke up gasping for breath, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Adrenaline coursed through her body with desperation to live. Everything was a dark blur through a wet haze that left everything about the world indistinguishable. She didn’t know where she was, who she was. All she knew was that she needed…

“Sunshine?”

A pair of warm, strong hands gently took hold of her shoulders, grounding her. The scent of warm linen with a hint of cinnamon and something else she couldn’t readily name hit her with a wave of nostalgia, of home. With it came a longing so painful that all she could do was dive into the familiar warmth that she longed for with all of her soul.

“Alice?” Jack asked, worry furrowing his brow, as he pulled Alice closer to him, allowing her to burrow her face into his chest. Her grip on him was too tight, painfully so, but it was nothing compared to the emotions that bled from her and aching his heart into his. “Hey… it’s okay. I’m right here…”

The only reply Alice could manage was a choked sob, muffled against his chest, her body heaving with every labored breath. Tremors ran through her, as though all warmth had been stolen from her.

Jack could feel the wetness of her hot tears spilling onto his skin. It made him want to cry along with her. “Oh Alice…,” he whispered as he stroked her back in slow circles. He held her as close as he dared, unwilling to risk putting her through even more pain, even though all he wanted was to hold her so close that nothing else would ever touch her again, never hurt her again. “I’m right here, sunshine. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The comforting words didn’t quite register, but the emotion in his voice and tender touches soothed her. His love wrapped around her like a protective blanket, sheltering Alice from the cold hell she woke up from.

It took a while for the flood of tears to slow, eventually fading to an occasional trickle between hitched breaths. Alice rested her damp cheek against Jack’s chest, listening to the strong and steady rhythm of his heartbeat mingling with his breaths, and the soothing words he spoke softly beside her ear.

“Are you feeling any better now?” Jack asked softly, as he ran gentle fingers along her damp cheek to wipe away her lingering tears.

Alice couldn’t speak, and she couldn’t bear to let Jack go in order to sign anything she wanted to say, so she simply nodded into his chest.

“That’s good,” Jack said. He bent down to press a feather soft kiss into her fair, nearly white hair. “Remember, I’ll always be here for you, Alice, no matter what. Forever.”

“For… ever…,” Alice croaked, forcing the words out through a too tight throat.

Jack shushed her gently as he placed another kiss on her crown. “It’s okay. Don’t force yourself to talk if it’s difficult for you right now. We can talk when you’re feeling better.”

Alice nodded, a sniffle escaping her despite her attempts to compose herself. She closed her damp eyes and focused on his heartbeat, that unmistakable sign of life.

Jack was alive. Her starlight was still alive, still here in her arms.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Jack asked, his voice soft and subdued.

A dream. That’s all it was. That’s all it had to be. It was only a nightmare based on all the times she had to stay overnight in the hospital as a kid, though she never spent those nights alone. She always had her mother or father there to keep her company overnight, and her siblings and friends would see her every day, sending her cards and wishing her a speedy recovery. The hospital was a terrifying place, but she never had to be there on her own.

Alice wasn’t alone.

“Don’t worry, I’m right here,” Jack said to immediately reinforce that thought. “I’ll always be with you, sunshine. Forever. I won’t ever leave you alone. Nothing in this world will ever keep us apart. I won’t let anything take you away from me either. So don’t worry, we’ll always be together, no matter what. I promise.”

His voice carried more than just a promise, there was power in it. His words were a spell that once cast could never be broken. Alice felt it just as clearly as she could the love Jack felt for her. It was endless and unconditional, an unchanging fact written into the very fabric of the universe.

Relief weakened her grip, just a little, and Alice adjusted her hold on Jack into something gentler. When she felt the small indents she made into his back with her nails, she winced a little before stroking the crescent shaped marks softly in apology.

“It’s okay,” Jack said, his voice a soothing caress against her ear. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, his touch delicate and sweet. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be right here, sunshine.”

Alice turned her head, just enough to press a kiss against his knuckles. She felt him shiver a little from the action, his thumb lightly stroking along her lower lip. She kissed his thumb next before lifting her eyes as he tipped her chin upward and guided her lips towards his.

The kiss started out soft, feather light, as Jack took pains not to push things too far while Alice was in such a delicate state. To his surprise, her mouth moved against his more urgently, as if she were dying of thirst and only his kiss could save her. He didn’t need further prompting, and he eagerly followed her lead, shivering in delight as he felt her warm, wet tongue slide into his mouth, twining with his in an intimate dance.

Eventually, the two were forced to part with flushed faces while taking desperate gulps of air. Even while out of breath, Alice couldn’t bear to be apart from Jack for long, and she immediately dove back into him. The second kiss ended with them both lightheaded. Before she could go back for a third, he changed course to give them both a chance to catch their breath. His lips went to her chin before blazing a trail down along her neck, taking his time to savor the taste of her flushed skin as he set a fire within her.

“Starlight…,” Alice moaned as she tipped her head back to expose more of her neck to Jack. She shivered as his teeth grazed her sensitized skin, so gentle even as he added more pressure, just enough to leave marks behind that he could trace with his tongue. A thin, needy whimper escaped her as she noticed his hand wandering its way underneath the shirt she wore - his shirt.

Jack took a moment to worship her belly with his palm, savoring her softness, before his hand traveled higher, careful to skirt lightly over her sensitive ribcage before reaching her ample breasts. “Alice,” he breathed, his hot breath tickling her skin. “I love you so much. You’re so beautiful, so soft…”

“Joseph…”

The name was an arctic wind that froze Jack solid, his entire body going rigid.

Alice noticed instantly, and just as quickly felt a fresh spike of fear run through her. “J-Jack. Jack! Jack!”

That name wasn’t enough to undo the damage, at least not right away. As Alice continued to repeat it, her voice grew more frantic, and it shook Jack out of his shock. He readjusted his hold on her to something more secure, trying desperately to once again become the solid and dependable Sunny Day Jack that his sunshine needed in that moment.

“It…” Jack paused as his voice cracked. He took a moment to wet his lips and tried again in a slightly more even tone. “I-it’s okay, sunshine. It’s okay… It doesn’t mean anything…”

The last part slipped out under his breath, more for himself than her, but Alice still heard it all the same. She felt awful. How could she call out another name like that? “I-I’m sorry, I… the nightmare… I was… we were different… it was you, I know it was, but you weren’t called Jack and I wasn’t Mary, I mean Alice, I mean I was…” She was shaking, her breath now coming in rapid pants as her wide, red-tinged blue eyes began to water. “I was… I… I-it was just so real and… and…!”

Jack wanted to stop Alice’s rambling sooner, but he had to take a moment to compose himself, shamefully shaken by a name that shouldn’t, didn’t matter anymore. “Alice.” He cupped her cheek and tilted her head up to look at him. “It was just a dream.” He bent down closer until their noses nearly touched. “Don’t think about it anymore. Whatever happened in that dream or whatever our names were… they’re not important anymore.”

Jack had to pause for a moment to take in a deep breath that came back out more of a shudder than he would’ve liked. “W-What’s important is we’re together now. That’s all that matters.” He took her hand in his and laced their fingers together. “This, right here… This is real. We are real. The two of us in this room right now, Jack and Alice, we’re real. We’re together now.” He put on a smile, however strained it was. “I love you so much, and you love me… and nothing is ever going to tear us apart ever again. That’s all that matters. No bad dreams or anything else is going to change that.”

Alice stared deeply into Jack’s eyes, which were dark in the dim light that leaked in through the blinds from the streetlamps outside. She could see the desperation in them, how much a simple name had shaken him to his core, but not the promise he made to her.

Jack was right. Whatever that dream was, whatever feelings it gave Alice, that didn’t change the fact that he was here with her now. All the pain and loneliness Mary felt, the helplessness and crushed hope… it didn’t matter. She wasn’t dying, alone and unloved in a world that didn’t care about her. She had Jack. She had her family, her friends.

She wasn’t Mary. She was Alice.

Alice wasn’t alone. She wasn’t forgotten. She wasn’t abandoned. Her world was filled with love, and the one who loved her more than anything in this world was right there with her, right where he was supposed to be.

“Starlight,” Alice choked out, as a tear beaded at the corner of her eyes. “Jack… Jack, I love you… so, so much.”

“I love you too, Alice,” Jack said before he gently kissed her tears away. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

“I want to,” Alice whispered quietly. “I want to know how much you love me… so don’t ever leave me again.”

Jack paused for a moment, the word “again” lingering in his mind, dangerous and sharp. It wasn’t that name, but the dream Alice alluded to and the implications of it summoned ghosts better left buried in the past. He tried not to show her how haunted he felt, not when she needed him so badly. She needed Sunny Day Jack, the picture perfect person who could protect her from all harm.

“I won’t leave you,” Jack said, his voice low but strong. “I will never leave you, sunshine. As long as you want me here-”

“I want you!” Alice blurted out. “I’ll always want you! I want forever with you. N-no matter what, you can’t leave me…” Never again.

“I won’t,” Jack promised. “I won’t ever leave you, Alice.”

“I love you,” Alice said as she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead into his. “I’ll love you forever. Even if we’re reborn… even if we’re not Alice or Jack anymore… You’re the one I want. You’re my wish come true, starlight.” She leaned back a bit so that she could look into his eyes again. “You make me happier than anyone or anything else in the whole world. I don’t ever want to live without you again.”

For a moment, Jack couldn’t speak, choking on his breath as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He fought away the stinging in his eyes, but his smile came easily and bright. He crushed Alice gently against his chest and peppered her beautiful face with kisses, his heart soaring above the clouds despite the ghost of Joseph still haunting him. He couldn’t care less about that, not when his precious sunshine told him something so wonderful, something he had wished to hear for what felt like forever.

“I love you, Alice,” Jack said between kisses. “I love you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me…” He paused for a moment, his voice softening further before he went back to kissing her. “…How much you mean to me. There’s no one else I could ever love more. You’re my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy… forever and always.”

His sweet words were a soothing balm for her wounded soul, while his kisses were like little bursts of fireworks along her skin, lighting up the dark and lonely night she had been trapped in for what felt like forever. When his lips came close to hers, Alice was quick to snatch them up in a kiss so that she could show Jack just how wonderful he made her feel.

Kisses and words of love were exchanged between the pair, heartfelt and sincere. It rekindled the fire from before, starting off with a gentle glow the two of them coaxed into a roaring flame. Clothes were discarded and forgotten, as were the nightmares and ghosts of tragic lives long gone.

In that moment, the only thing that mattered was the two of them, and the love they shared. They engraved their love on one another with their hands and mouths, worshiping the bodies that carried their scarred souls. They twined themselves together in a lurid dance of thrusting hips and primal screams. It was a beautiful pas de deux that celebrated the bond between their souls that kept them connected across lifetimes.

Alice and Jack, Mary and Joseph, sunshine and starlight… whatever names they used for one another, it didn’t change the love that they shared that overcame even death itself.

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #My Writing #My Art

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lilac-gold · 4 months

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Hi Lilac! Could you answer 20 & 25 for Rococo and 1 & 23 for Hero for the ask game please? Thank you! 💖

hi!! it's good to see you, thanks for the ask! <33

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

that's a good one! my first thought would be spaceboy because they can bond over their ex and travel the stars together, but i also get the feeling that they could clash horribly. two hyperemotional drama queens in love with the same girl,, to be honest, i feel like rococo would get along best with the unbread twins. all three of them have been locked away in isolation for years, the twins can provide rococo with food and he can fund their gambling addiction, they all have strange manners of speaking and like to talk about their sad backstories, etc. i feel like they'd have a very fun dynamic :))

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

at first, i mainly just considered him another one-off side character and didn't pay much attention to his dialogue. his art was funny, his design was cool, but it wasn't until i wrote a one-shot focused around him that i started to recognise him a bit more as his own character. i wound up writing a 3000 word analysis on his backstory, got ridiculously attached, and now he's one of my biggest comfort characters sgfgjhf

23. Favorite picture of this character?

!!! hero my beloved! for his real world version, i'd have to go with the group hug. he shifts so quickly from being miserable and guilt-ridden to smiling and comforting aubrey; it really highlights just how accustomed he is to putting on a facade for others' sakes. besides, i don't think he's hugged anyone in years (one of his canonical likes listed is "mari's hugs", after all). the photo shows how much of an older brother figure he is not just to kel, but to sunny and aubrey too. he does look genuinely happy to be there with them, and it makes me smile to see him smile :))

as for headspace hero, as much as i adore this year's birthday art of him, i think i'd have to go with the photo of him making a flower crown. "it's taking him a while, but he's getting it!". the petals and leaves all over him are very cute, and he's clearly very focused. it's nice to see him enjoying himself! besides, basil always does like taking photos of people who are unaware the most :D

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tipsycad147 · 8 months

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Tarot Spreads for Beginners

So you got into the wondrous and insightful world of Tarot. You have your deck, you know the meanings…but now what? Now comes the fun part: reading! As a cartomancer, I can assure you that studying the definition of each card and knowing them by heart is not enough if you don’t actually make use of the cards. What will guarantee that you’ll become more acquainted with this art is none other than practice. So far, you’ve learned to read the cards individually, isolated, but now it’s time to put those meanings in context. How do you do that? Keep reading to find out!

Before I start, I wanted to give a bit of a disclaimer. Memorizing the meanings of all 78 cards is not mandatory. It’s great that you want to educate yourself, but don’t forget that you have an ace up your sleeve: your intuition. And let me tell you a secret: it is much better if you follow your gut rather than your brain. If you want to know more about intuitive Tarot reading don’t miss our blog post!

Reading Tarot in context

There are two elements that will provide you with a frame in which you have to interpret the cards. On the one hand, there’s a question, and on the other, the cards. What does that mean? Let’s say the querent (the person asking a question) wants to know about their love life. They ask “what do I have to do in order to gain the confidence to ask my crush out on a date?”. Imagine you pull out three cards —The Strength, The Hierophant (inverted), and the ten of cups—, it’s important that you interpret them altogether and that you “adapt” the message to the question at hand. These three cards tell us that this person needs to be persistent and brave, not lose hope, and work hard on tearing down negative self-talk and emotional and spiritual conventions that are restrictive in order to get their beloved’s attention, which the ten of cups foresees.

Reading each card as if it were separated from the rest would be inaccurate, as the meanings tend to be slightly modified depending on the cards that are around, as would be not answering what the consultant asked. For instance, (same question as before) you tell the querent “I see that you need to be strong and persistent, good results are guaranteed; then you have to reassess your spirituality, reflect upon your convictions; and lastly, you’ll have a beautiful happy family.” Even though it’s somehow related to the question, it still doesn’t answer it per se. It’s as if somebody asked “what’s your favorite music genre?” and you replied “I listen to pop, jazz, and metal quite frequently.”

What’s a tarot spread?

A spread is an arrangement of the cards that encompasses a set of questions regarding a theme and different positions in which the cards will be displayed. Some advanced readers may even take into account the number of the positions, as numerology can provide further information.

As for themes, you can find spreads for almost every single topic: finding love, finding a solution to a problem, communicating with spirits, finances, etc. Once you’re more acquainted with Tarot, you can come up with your own! They can be as simple or as complex as you want. The more extensive the layout is, the more information you’ll receive. In this post, you’ll find some easy, beginner-friendly ones.

One-card pull tarot

This is where beginners should start, ideally. You can pull one card from your deck every day to practice intuitive Tarot reading.

Step 1: Take 5-10 minutes to ground and calm your mind. You can also pray to your spirit team to guide you through the reading.

Step 2: Shuffle the cards as many times as you want, you decide when to stop.

Step 3: When you’re ready, pick one card —or let it fly out of the deck, as you prefer— and place it facing up.

Step 4: Observe the card and take in its imagery. Focus and let your intuition guide you. What does the background look like? Is it sunny or rainy? What colors do you see? What do they symbolize or evoke? What’s the character in the picture? What energy do you get from the card? All these questions combined should give you enough information to interpret Tarot.

Some cartomancers may use one-card pulls to answer yes/no questions. I don’t personally use Tarot for these particular questions, for the cards provide much more nuances than just black and white. It’s not as simple as having an upright card as “yes” and an inverted one as “no.” There are some cards that are neutral, such as Justice, or answer in a “yes, but…” or “no, but…” way. Alternatively, my yes/no question go-to divination tool is a pendulum. (Leave a comment if you want to learn about divination with pendulums!)

Three-card spreads

These are my favorite type of spreads, even as an advanced Tarot reader. They are simple and provide you with enough information to work with. Ultimately, short spreads are easier for beginners, as they don’t require a broad and complicated analysis.

Pick a layout and shuffle the cards. Ask the question either out loud or in your mind (extra tip: including the name of the querent in the question can help you direct the energy toward them), and once you’re done shuffling, pull out the cards one by one and place them where the spread indicates. Now, I’ll give you some ideas for three-card spreads.

Card 1

Past, Situation, Your Goals, Your Finances, Embrace

Card 2

Present, Obstacles/Fear, Someone Else, Course of Action, Work through

Card 3

Future, Outcome, Relationship, Advice/Warning, Let go

Needless to say, you can modify these layouts and add or take out cards. For example, you can make the fear and obstacle two separate questions. That way you have more context to read from. The more cards a spread has, the more accurate and elaborated it will be.

Something I do occasionally in these types of spreads is do a numeric reduction. That is, I add each digit until I get a final number that is below or equal to 22. Then I grab a Major Arcana card that corresponds to the number I got (if it’s already in the spread, I take it as a sign that I should pay extra attention to it). This extra card brings more insight into the reading and works as additional advice.

Interview your deck spread

This one’s for both beginner and advanced readers. If you ever wonder why cartomancers usually have more than one deck, it’s because they all have different personalities and limitations, like people. This six-card spread will help you bond with your new deck and understand how to work properly with it.

Card 1 Your essence

Card 2 Your strengths

Card 3 Your limitations

Card 4 What you’ll teach me

Card 5 How I can collaborate with you

Card 6 The outcome of our relationship

Extra tip

If you are indecisive about which spread to use, you can simply ask a question and pull as many cards as you feel comfortable reading. You may have certain rules when it comes to your practice. For example, in my case, if a card falls from the deck facing up, I take that as a sign that I should read it, but if more than three fall out, I don’t take them into account, regardless of their position —unless my gut tells me otherwise.

Ask —or suggest your client to ask— questions that need elaboration. Remember that messages from Tarot are like short stories. So, avoid questions like “will I…?”, “when is…?”, “did I…?” Instead, formulate questions along the lines of “what should I…?”, “what’s the best way to….?”, “how can I…?”, “what do I need to…in order to…?”, etc.

Now you know how to get started in your Tarot practice. As you gain experience, you’ll also gain confidence and will be able to read longer and more complex spreads. This is just the beginning in the wonderful world of divination. So buckle up and don’t forget that practice makes perfect!

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taste-in-music · 3 years

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taste-in-music’s Year End Wrap-Up

Hello everybody! We’ve finally reached the end of 2020. While I’m glad to leave this miserable year behind, one of things that undeniably got me through it was the vast amount of awesome music we got. In past years I’ve made favorite album and EP lists, but this time around I’m going to tackle them all in one go, giving reviews on the projects that had some significances to me over the course of the year. I’m going to make a post for my favorite songs too, so keep an eye out for that in coming days. Now, without further ado, let’s get started, shall we?

folklore by Taylor Swift: This was an incredible year of growth for Taylor Swift. As much as I’ve enjoyed her past music, the way she constantly felt the need to address what people thought of her always irked me, (though after watching her documentary, I do understand why she did it.) It wasn’t Taylor Swift the public persona that was most interesting, I thought. It was Taylor Swift the artist, the songwriter, the storyteller. What I wanted was an album focused on that. This year, I got one, (well... more on that later,) and it’s my favorite project she’s ever done. The tales Swift spins on folklore span across love triangles, heiresses, and battlefields, and she nails each and every one. While the chilly indie-folk influence from the likes of Aaron Dessner and Justin Vernon is prominent, Swift’s warmth and charisma always cuts through the fog like a beam of sunlight. So yeah, this is my undeniable album of the year.

Fetch The Bolt Cutters by Fiona Apple: I only started listening to Fiona Apple last year and had thoroughly enjoyed her music, but this album cemented her as one of my favorite songwriters and performers of all time. Everything about Fetch The Bolt Cutters is so idiosyncratic yet fits together in just the right way, like watching an entire house being dropped from the sky and falling perfectly into place. It is a testament to the creative process, emotional honesty, and breaking free from all the cages you may find yourself in, whether they be societal, personal, or those of your own making. And in a year that was so isolating, it felt like Apple was whispering everything I needed to hear right into my ear, just when I needed it. In short, my boltcutters have been motherfucking fetched.

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers: When Punisher was announced, I had no clue how Phoebe Bridgers would match the quality of Stranger In The Alps. Upon first listen, I wasn’t sure she had. By the fifteenth time I was listening to this album and every lyric was hitting like Cupid’s arrow to the jugular, I knew she’d surpassed it. Punisher presents a sonic scope that both comforts and crushes all at once, like with the upbeat yet mournful horns on “Kyoto” or the cathartic swell on standout “I Know The End.” In my opinion, Bridgers is one of the greatest songwriters of our generation in the making, and I can’t wait to see what the future brings for her. She may know the end, but she’s far from it.

SAWAYAMA by Rina Sawayama: This is the album I see becoming a new shorthand for the true potential of pop excellence, a cult hit that never got its time to shine but is beloved by pop music geeks to the ends of the earth, like EMOTION by Carly Rae Jepsen. SAWAYAMA so effortlessly blends diverse genres and influences like disco, nu metal, and arena rock, and it yet it remains cohesive due to Rina Sawayama’s sheer strength as a performer. She deserves a spot on the pop girlie hierarchy, and one near the top.

Future Nostalgia by Dua Lipa: I really enjoyed Dua Lipa’s debut album, but even I didn’t expect her to come through with such a fully realized, consistent, downright fantastic follow up. Future Nostalgia is a pop album that feels studied, like Lipa did her research of pop’s past as she made it. The result is an album that synthesizes several different sounds under her vision, one that is always trained ahead, and it simply slaps. In a perfect world, nearly every song on this album got spun off into a hit single.

evermore by Taylor Swift: 2020 was already my year of listening to Taylor Swift, (I went through her whole discography, cultivated a favorites playlist, and at the end of the year I was in the top 2% of her yearly Spotify listeners.) evermore was a lovely cherry to top it all off. While folklore enchanted me with its stories, evermore captivated me with its melodies. I haven’t been able to get snippets of this album out. of. my. head. for weeks now. It’s a bit less consistent than it’s older sister, (and likely to live in its shadow,) but there is still so much to love.

I’m Allergic to Dogs! by Remi Wolf: This EP is so much goddamn fun. It’s a blend of many different sounds, indie pop, electronic, maybe hip hop, I think reggae at points? It’s such a colorful, textured, quirky listen bristling with energy and undeniable hooks. “Woo!” conquered my Summer, and months later the bridge of “Photo ID” conquered TikTok. Keep your eye out for Remi Wolf in the coming year, she’s going to make a big splash.

Good At Being Young by Charli Adams: Good At Being Young was the first EP this year that I could not get enough of. It drifts through dreamy indie-pop sounds, with melancholic guitars and cloudy synths, and Adams has a deep vocal timbre that delivers tales of adolescent tribulations with just the right amount of wistfulness. Overall, it builds the perfect soundscape for a late-night drive.

Cape God by Allie X: Allie X has been keeping us FED with content. It seems like only yesterday that Super Sunset came out, and yet her output remains impressively consistent. This album has impressive highs, some lower moments, but the danceability, duets, and enticing darkness under its shiny pop veneer make it a record you won’t want to skip.

La vita nuova by Christine and The Queens: Perhaps the biggest flex of 2020 was Christine and The Queens dropping a fantastic EP and accompanying short film right out of the gate. The grooves on this are infectious, wiry, and air-tight, (the Caroline Polachek feature was another added bonus,) but that doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of emotional weight too.

Lighter by Donna Missal: This was one of my most anticipated albums of the year, and it’s hard to determine whether it disappointed or not. I think the only thing holding Lighter back is that This Time was such a formative album for me, (my favorite of 2018, to the uninitiated.) In fact, this album flows way better than This Time, more cohesive with its storytelling and more consistent in folk-rock sound. And, of course, Donna Missal’s vocals stun on both the bangers and the ballads.

SURF by BLACKSTARKIDS: There was no record this year that was more instantly likeable than this one. The blend of low-fi indie pop and hip hop makes for a whirlwind of sunny fun and youthful malaise that would make the perfect soundtrack for a road trip to the beach. Standouts include the opening track “SOUNDS LIKE FUN,” the chill “WIGS,” and blissful title track “MUSIC TO SURF TO.”

The Baby by Samia: I’ve had my eye on Samia since “Milk” dropped years ago. Seeing her live sparked my belief that she was an indie darling in the making, and The Baby confirmed that she definitely was. The lyrics on this album mix quiet contemplation with just enough sardonic wit and raw emotion throughout a varied selection of sunny rock bops and gut wrenching ballads. If you enjoyed Punisher, then I can’t recommend this enough.

Season 2 by Nasty Cherry: Nasty Cherry is a group that I will not stop rooting for. Their EP from last year showed their potential for nailing monster hooks, but this sophomore effort shows just how versatile they can be. This EP covers everything from Dylan Brady produced hyperpop to early-2000s reminiscent pop rock to emotional balladry, and they pull it all off flawlessly.

A Little Rhythm and a Wicked Feeling by Magdalena Bay: This album became a fast favorite way late in the year, there is such a sweetness to Magdalena Bay’s music that makes it stick in your brain like a piece of blue raspberry bubblegum. This EP is spacey, catchy, and filled with electronic synthpop mastery, with countless catchy hooks that’ll make you feel like drifting and dancing all at once.

Miss Anthropocene by Grimes: The bubblegum bombast of Art Angels fully redefined my taste in pop years ago, so I was fascinated to see how Grimes would follow it up. On Miss Anthropocene, she leans into darker, more industrial textures, but also anchors it back to Earth with acoustic touches and some of her most introspective lyrics to date. Grimes painted a version of a world on the brink of disaster on this album, a picture that was hypnotically beautiful. And in a year where the word was a certified disaster, that was strangely comforting.

Plastic Hearts by Miley Cyrus: I’ve been wanting Miley to go rock for so goddamn long, Plastic Hearts was bound to make this list by pure validation alone. But what can I say? This breed of glossy 80s rock suits Cyrus’s rougher voice so well! I hope she stays in this lane a bit longer, but as we know, she’s one of pop’s most chameleonic figures. Only time will tell.

Where Does The Devil Hide by Zella Day: I have been patiently awaiting new Zella Day music ever since getting hooked on Kicker back in 2017, so this was one of my most anticipated releases of the year. This EP sounds nothing like Kicker, and I couldn’t be happier. It shows Day leaning even more into her influences from the past, (the 60s/70s vibes are intense with this one,) but also breathing a refreshing new life into them.

SOUL LADY by Yukika: When I imagine the ideal of pop music, what it would sound like in a perfect world, this is what it sounds like. SOUL LADY is full of pristine, glossy production and catchy hooks that feel like they’ve come down from the clouds. I’ll admit that I can have trouble forming a connection with music when I don’t understand the lyrics, (it’s something I’m working on,) but this album cleared that hurdle with ease. If you’re curious about city pop or K-pop this is a great place to start.

Heaven Is Without You by Love You Later: Give me lush pop production and heartbroken lyrics finished off with a heaping helping of nostalgia and I’ll eat it up with a spoon. Love You Later has been feeding my addiction to this genre for years, and this latest helping is particularly sweet.

IN A DREAM by Troye Sivan: Troye Sivan has always supplied the bops, but it was about time that he started experimenting with his sound a little bit more. This EP offers some harder-hitting electronic textures, but also the addictive hooks that’ll keep you coming back for more.

Ungodly Hour by Chloe X Halle: These women are so TALENTED! If there is any word I’d use to describe this album it would be “effortless,” the harmonies, grooves, and chemistry between Chloe and Halle feels so natural and free-flowing. Charisma just rolls off of them in droves, I see full-blown stardom and several Grammys in their future.

Watching You by Robinson: This EP was one of the first on this list to arrive this year, and it still hits months later. Robinson’s confessional lyrics work wonders over the buoyant pop grooves, and “Don’t Say” remains one of the best pop songs of recent years.

Manic by Halsey: I respect Halsey for dipping her toes into a myriad of different genres, (synth pop, rock, hip hop, and acoustic balladry,) but it does make for a jumbled listening experience. Still, I appreciate that this album features some of Halsey’s strongest tracks and writing to date, offering greater experimentation and emotional imtimacy than album’s past.

We Don’t Stop by Aly & AJ: Should this count? It’s more a compilation of their past EP and singles... I don’t care, I’m counting it because there’s some new stuff too. This is an excellent display of Aly & AJ’s pop prowess in recent years, the hooks, vocal chemistry, and shimmery production are undeniable.

Under My Influence by The Aces: The Aces returned in 2020 with a more laid-back, groovier record than their debut, exploring a wider variety of sounds. They’re as magnetic and likeable a group as ever, each member giving it their all, but I think I’ll return to the debut more often.

Strangers/Lovers by Dagny: I’ve been anticipating a longer Dagny project, as she’s been drip-feeding us singles for a while now. This was a lot of fun, with Dagny pairing her upbeat earnestness with stories of romantic tribulation. While the hooks aren’t as memorable as her past offerings, there is still so much to enjoy. Lead single “Come Over” and “Let Me Cry” are my favorites.

DUALITY by Tatiana Hazel: I came across this via recommendation on Tik Tok and it’s a solid pop record! The music is swooning, synthy, and tinged with disco and Latin influence. The record doesn’t waste a second of its runtime, clocking in at less than half an hour and grooving the whole time.

After Hours by The Weeknd: The sonic palette of After Hours is so engaging, a neon-drenched blend of synthwave, electropop, and R&B. I’ve always felt lukewarm on The Weeknd’s musical persona of brooding, villainous party monster, so the strongest moments on this album tend to be when he subverts that in some way. Still, in full, this album is an undeniable force of smash hits, stadium-shaking ballads, and cinematic flair. I can’t wait for his Super Bowl performance.

Petrol Bloom by LAUREL: It’s no secret that this year was chock-full of 80s revival albums (there’s what, five others on this list?) LAUREL wasn’t an artist I was expecting to go in that direction after the brooding folk pop of her debut album, but her deeper timbre works great alongside the synthy soundscapes.

positions by Ariana Grande: I’ve just come to expect that nearly all of Ariana Grande’s albums are going to be growers to me. My first listen to positions was underwhelming, but the songs have grown on me more and more. This album feels like being let in on a giggly, fun slumber party with Grande and her friends. I wouldn’t call this her strongest album by far, and while I tend to prefer when she favors the more powerful parts of her range, (and her enunciations could still use some work,) there is a lot of good material here.

THE ALBUM by BLACKPINK: We may just have to stan. I checked this out after watching their Netflix documentary, and while this breed of cacophonous, in-your-face electropop isn’t something I can listen to all the time, the hooks and charisma are undeniable. It certainly makes me feel like a bad bitch whenever I’m working out.

Kid Krow by Conan Gray: Conan Gray burst onto my radar offering dreamy tracks rich with teen malaise and suburban restlessness, and a good amount of that initial appeal carries over onto this album. Kid Krow has both a larger instrumental scope and more stripped-back moments. In the end, it still feels like Gray is finding his voice as an artist, but he's giving up great bops to jam out to as he does.

Petals For Armor by Hayley Williams: Hayley Williams is one of my favorite vocalists, so seeing her venture out for a solo project was exciting. This album offers a mixed bag of danceable jams, emotive moments that showcase Williams’s powerful voice, and a few skips. But overall it showcases Williams’s strength as a performer as she tackles her past with vulnerability and versatility.

Apart by LÉON: Oh, man. This one was kind of disappointing. For context, LÉON’s self-titled debut was my favorite album of last year. This follow-up is by no means bad, but every song on her first album was instantly memorable. This one, not so much. LÉON’s vocals are beautiful, and there are some stand-out tracks, but I don’t see myself returning to this nearly as much.

Blush by Maya Hawke: Maya Hawke’s Blush was to my 2020 what Tōth’s Practice Magic and Seek Professional Help When Necessary was to my 2019, (and that makes sense, as they’ve collaborated in the past.) This album is so blissful and nonchalant, and Maya Hawke has a gentle, soothing voice that feels wise beyond her years. While the writing isn’t as hard-hitting as, say, the Phoebe Bridgers album, sometimes I just want to listen to something that could rock me off into a dream world. If you like folksy, down-to-earth ballads, you’ve got a solid collection of them right here.

Dedicated Side B by Carly Rae Jepsen: Of course Queen Carly would pull through with B-sides for Dedicated, did we expect anything less? Jepsen’s brand of controlled yet carefree shimmery poptimism drenched in 80s nostalgia that never fails to put me in a good mood. This album has some lusher, more tropical instrumentation than Dedicated proper, but works great alongside it.

Missing Person by Kelsy Karter: To the Plastic Hearts fans out there, your homework now is to give this record a listen. This rock album presents pop hooks, but a lot of reckless rock fun too. Kelsy Karter has so much irresistible swagger and carefree spirit as a performer, speeding through the emotional highs and lows like she’s burning rubber in a cherry red Cadillac.

how i’m feeling now by Charli XCX: I’ll admit, this album was a bit abrasive to me on first listen. But tracks like “anthems” and “forever” made me return, and it’s a huge grower. If you listen closely, you’ll find the sugary-sweet hooks and relatable sentiments nestled deep in the crunchy hyperpop textures, begging to be discovered and eventually loved.

Jaguar by Victoria Monét: If you enjoyed positions, then check out the debut from one of that album’s most prominent co-writers. Jaguar’s concise collection of silky R&B slow-burners show that Victoria Monet’s is a superstar in her own right.

Some great albums I listened to that didn’t come out this year: Blue by Joni Mitchell, BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA by BLACKPINK, I Need to Start a Garden by Haley Heynderickx, Plastic Beach by Gorillaz, Out in the Storm by Waxahatchee, 7 by Beach House, Dummy by Portishead, Lovers Fevers by Babygirl, and Red by Taylor Swift.

Whether you liked, reblogged, or commented on a post, sent me an ask, or interacted with this blog in any way, thank you so much for all the support throughout the year! I can’t express how much I appreciate it.

What were your favorite albums from this year? Did I miss anything? Send me an ask and let me know. I’ll tell you my thoughts, or put it on my to-listen-to list if I haven’t heard it.

Here’s to 2021! May it clear the extremely low bar set by this year.

#album #EP #album of the year #album recommendation #taste in music 2020 faves #taste in music

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sirsapling · 4 years

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MORE TAGGED POSTS

I got tagged in a bunch more things I didn't respond to fast enough, so UNDER THE CUT THEY GO.

I have too many things to respond to, so I won't be tagging, but consider yourself tagged if you want to do any.

IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS

Tagged by the wonderful @bardingbeedle

Pass the happy!🌻�� When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications!

Lying in warm blankets in an cold room. Bonus points for snow outside.

A fresh Buzz cut

Talking to @bardingbeedle

Having long, passionate rambles about the Marvel Ultimates

Hashbrowns, bacon, maple syrup, maybe a pancake, and a sausage too.

Tagged by the chaotic @s-hylor

top 3 cities you want to visit: Toronto, again. Colorado (I know its a state not a city I just want to visit ashes AND GET SNOW). And I would like to go back to Italy again. (I also want to visit, just, all of my fandom friends but I don't want to drop all their locations lol)

favorite marvel character: Ults!Steve Rogers and then Ults!Tony Stark. Not counting stony, Anthony the brain tumor, and not counting clones, Gregory Stark.

white chocolate - yay or nay?: Love it, love it, love it.

favourite board game: God Save The Queens- A board game about Bees I invented with 3 other people at University last year for a project.

how many countries have you been to: 10, I have been very luckily graced with the ability to travel to Europe with school a lot.

(Wales, France, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, America [Florida, Boston, New York], Spain, Portugal, Italy, and finally Canada.)

favorite thing to do on a rainy day: Anything indoors I might usually feel guilty about doing when its sunny. Tv or games particularly

favorite holiday: Christmas. I am a Christmas slut, call me festive sapling I LOVE Christmas.

pen or pencil: Pen. I once bought 7 in lisbon at the same time bc they were perfect and I didn't want to run out.

favourite kind of soup: Cupasoup Chicken noodle, I don't really like soups tbh, I like broths, and gravy type things I make too much of and eat like a soup (like golden Currys or korma sauces)

your typical order at a cafe or coffee shop: Caramel Frappucino or an iced Mocha. If I'm gonna pay a fuck tonne for coffee I'm gonna get a drinkable dessert.

favorite ride at an amusement park: Any slow rides that show you shit, like spaceship earth at EPCOT. I’m not really a speed dude.

the color of your sneakers: RED, red shoes are the shit folks, a good pair of red converse goes with everything.

favorite pbs show (or little kids show if you didn’t have pbs): Uh I used to watch pokemon then winnie the pooh every single night. But little little kids show I used to watch a show called 64 zoo lane with my grandma so I have fond memories

Rules: name your favorite female characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people.

Tagged by the wonderful @ashes0909

Natasha Romanov - Marvel Cinematic Universe

Carol Danvers - Marvel 616

Janet Van Dyne - Marvel Ultimates

Izumi Curtis - Full Metal Alchemist

Martha Jones - Doctor Who

Garnet - Steven Universe (if she doesn't count bc, space rock, Connie)

Rosa Diaz - Brooklyn 99

Ann Perkins - Parks and Rec

Princess Caroline - Bojack Horseman

Pam Poovey - Archer

LOOK I know there was a lot of cheating here, but I don't have non marvel fandoms really, and I have a hard time remembering a lot of the TV I enjoyed.

Rules: Share your top 10 AO3 additional tags. Tagged by the mysterious @nigmuff

look I don't know if I have enough tags to make this a justified representation, but the ones shown are v much on brand.

Fanfic trope meme

I was tagged by the delightful @capnstars and @crownofstardustandbone

slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or !!!secret dating!!! // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut AND fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or !!!!middle-aged romance!!! // time travel or isolated together // neighbours or roommates // sci-fi or magic au // body swap or genderbend // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane

Look guys, I’m boring. I like domestic 30-40 year olds in secret relationships. We knew this.

And now buckle the fuck down folks because I'm about to answer 50 questions about me no one is gonna stick around and read.

tagged by @bardingbeedle the only person who would put up with reading this much about me.

What is the colour of your hairbrush?

I have a buzz cut, I don't have a hair brush anymore.

Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Too warm. I have been warmer than most people my whole life, and I often need to sleep with a fan on.

What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Working on a sketch for an MTH fill (update from the end of this: I have spent an hour doing this fuckin thing)

What is your favourite candy bar?

Bounty. My favourite candy is Reese’s Pieces but I like a bounty. Or like, and chocolate without fruit in it tbh.

Have you ever been to a professional sports event?

Yes, one of my parents referees Championship Football here in the UK. I have been to a few of his games. I also went to the London 2012 Paralympic closing ceremony, if that counts.

What is the last thing you said out loud?

‘Oh, this will last me a few days’ I was talking to my mother about 1/2 a can of pringles, I was lying.

What is your favourite ice cream?

Vanilla. I am boring. But the best ice cream i’ve had was a cream/milk flavoured gelato in Florence, that shit slapped. I also like cheap strawberry ice cream when no one is trying to put strawberry bits in it.

What was the last thing you had to drink?

Dinner. A spinach, banana, summer fruits and coconut yoghurt smoothie (with extra raspberries). Its my nightly dinner to cheat more veg into my body.

Do you like your wallet?

Very much. It’s about 7-8 years old, it is faded to hell but it has spiderman and a pony ride stony pin

What was the last thing you ate?

See above smoothie comment, but if that doesn't count, a sugar free mint polo.

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

Nope. I don't buy as many clothes as I want to, bc mens clothes in larger sizes are hard to find or expensive here.

The last sporting event you watched?

F1, I don't keep up but I watch a little with my dad every now and then.

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn?

BUTTER. They don't really have it here, and I don't go to movies much when in the states. But @festiveferret introduced me to it when we saw Ant-man and the Wasp, and much like poutine and Tim Hortons, I still crave it.

Who is the last person you sent a text message to?

My dad.

Ever go camping?

Yes, I was a Scout. I have done enough camping to not want to do more, it was fun when I wasn't organising it.

Do you take vitamins?

Yes, but not as often as I should, and as much as my mother bothers me too.

Do you go to church every Sunday?

Nope, not even when I considered myself christian. I go only go to church for other peoples events, and I’m an agnostic now.

Do you have a tan?

I cannot tan. I just can't, I burn lobster red in 5 minutes outside without literal sun cream for BABIES

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

Chinese food, It was easily what taught me to like more foods also, I don't eat tomato so I can't have most pizza. I love a good garlic base/bechamel, but you can't really get that here easily (yes yes I could make my own but that ruins half the point of pizza)

Do you drink your soda with a straw?

I don't drink carbonated drinks, because its like drinking pain. The fuck is wrong with all of you.

What colour socks do you usually wear?

Various colours, but I consider red on the left, blue on the right, my lucky socks. No I don't know why, but I take all exams and interviews wearing them. It’s just a thing.

Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

I don't drive, but if I did, No. Theres a lot of questionable laws out there but Traffic laws aren't one of them.

What terrifies you?

Pfft, most things from spiders to rollercoasters. But more seriously, Being shouted at. Shout at me and I start hyperventilating, its a thing. Also not knowing if someone is mad at me. I’m not good at reading people,

Look to your left, what do you see?

The wallet shown earlier, and the sugar free polos mentioned after that.

What chore do you hate?

Vacuuming. It makes everything in my body hurt. I would rather clean toilets.

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

@s-hylor

What’s your favourite soda?

See above. I do not like your pain liquid. Apple juice for life.

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?

Either delivery or kiosk, I don't like talking to people where possible, I often need tweaks I don't want to have to remember to repeat.

Who’s the last person you talked to?

@downeyhills

Favourite cut of beef?

I don't generally eat beef, lamb, or most red meats. I love crispy chilly beef, but as anyone can point out its bc your generally don't feel the texture of the beef.

Last song you listened to?

Everybody Wants to Rule the World | Tears for Fears | Pomplamoose

I’m on a Pomplamoose kick, and I also just love this song anyway.

Last book you read?

Understanding Comics (The invisible Art) - Scott McCloud

Favourite day of the week?

Friday nights. The weekend is ahead and @loraneldin and I take to wrangling our beloved usual suspects through another week of Ults Book Club.

Can you say the alphabet backwards?

I can barely say it forwards.

How do you like your coffee?

With milk and sugar, or ultimately, in a Caramel Frappuccino bc I'm a bitch like that.

Favourite pair of shoes?

I have walking boots that don't make my flat ass feet feel like they’re dying. OR my black and green crocs (Fight me, they’re useful).

The time you normally go to sleep?

9-10 is what I'm working on, but I fluctuate depending on if I'm working on something or not.

The time you normally get up?

5-6 If I have a choice in the matter, but often 7-8 if I didn't get to bed at the right time. I’m more about getting the right hours in for my diet than time specifically.

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

Sunset is the prettiest, but I like to be awake to see the sun rise.

How many blankets on your bed?

One big thick comforter, because that's the uk standard, and I get too hot otherwise.

Describe your kitchen plates

Two types, big wide white ones with a navy blue rim. They are so large I never use them, and little Navy saucer plates I use a lot.

Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage?

I don't drink, so no. I drink apple juice or Shirley temples when I'm in pubs/bars

Do you play cards?

Sometimes, I like to teach people to play Old Maid. It’s the monopoly of card games.

What colour is your car?

Again, I do not drive.

Can you change a tire?

I am aware I just said I don't have a car, but I do know how to change a tire. Everyone should go learn its pretty simple.

Favourite job you’ve ever had?

I have only had one job really and two job experience jobs. I did experience in a school library for a week and that was v fun and chill. I did all the jobs they had prepared for me in 2 days so I alphabetically reorganised their fiction section for the rest of the week. I LIKE ORDERING.

How did you get your biggest scar?

I no longer have a gallbladder, so I have 3 scars across my torso from that, the biggest right in the middle of my ribs. Non surgical wise I have matching scars on my knees from ripping holes in them when tripping. I have weak ankles and also I got both of those at different times.

What did you do today that made someone else happy?

I gave my spare animal crossing Iguanodon skull to a wicked artist I follow on twitter so he could complete his dino park.

#text post #tagged in #wow long post #wow x2 #tag memes

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ravivalleti · 7 years

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‘Naturalization’ - A Mother’s Day 2017 Tribute

Limited Exclusive Preview from the upcoming debut book:

Rocket Scientist: The Posthuman Memoir of a Futurist Artist

by Ravi Valleti

Before the Oath Ceremony began, eagerly we called out, “Amma? Amma?! Amma!” Several faces, various shades of Citizens-elect, turned toward us. Apparently “Amma” means mother not only in our language, Telugu, but also in some other ones! From the mezzanine balcony, we smiled back towards their hopeful, nervous, curious eyes. Perched were we, above an entire floor of patient new citizens of these United States of America, in a time of dramatically new political energy, quizzical not merely to the rest of the world but to many of us Stateside.

Relief. Pride. Sadness. Deep sorrow. Confusion and anger mixed with twinges of what the abyss might feel like. This wasn’t the jubilatory celebration we had hoped for Amma’s Certificate of Naturalization as a newly admitted Citizen of our United States of America.

45. Not 44.

I’ve lived a story of your Amma – your mother. I wish to better understand the concept of Nation-States. Of that United States of America. And of you. Please ancestor, tell me in your own words. January 26th, 2017, an Oath Ceremony at the Heritage Center in Campbell in what was called…Silicon Valley? I’ve lived your memories for so long, but wasn’t prepared to speak directly to you. The Singularity technicians didn’t think this was possible. In college, though, my Intro Epistemology professor theorized that being in a state of coma might somehow allow for an interaction like ours. She was dismissed by the scientific community as an outlier. Was she right? Or, is this just a glitch?

A brilliant glitch then, dear descendant. I thought I’d died so long ago. Yet, here I am. This might be the only chance we get. So, let’s make this a good story!

We have advanced some since your days. I imagine kids of my time could write the textbooks used in your time. I’ll grant you that, dearest descendent. Believe it or not, I’m not jealous. I’m relieved that your generation is better off, and so grateful that your world is more evolved than ours. That’s how it should be. We have our problems, ancestor. Don’t get me started. I can tell, descendant. Perhaps not my place yet to say that you’re privileged to have problems we in 2017 would have dreamed of having. To your Amma’s Oath Ceremony please, ancestor!

Okay. I’ll take you back to how it was then, in the first 100 hundred days of 45…45, not 44.

My Amma has spent more than half of her life outside her hometown Hyderabad, India, by way of almost three years with me in Canada in the era of Justin Trudeau’s father, Pierre. Then to the Ronald Reagan United States in that remote northeastern corner of Orono and Bangor, Maine. That was where my sister Rajani was born. To some locals, we were Black, the other kind of Indian, Middle Eastern, even the term tricky for many Latinxs: Hispanic. The very few other minorities and a handful of white allies helped us feel less isolated. We persisted in Maine by watching reruns of the Original Star Trek on our first color TV and by reading stories of proud Black Americans who made it possible for a brown family like mine to survive in those United States. MLK and Gandhi, together. 5 years later, 30 years before 2017, we Indian-Americans settled on another coast of stolen American Indian land as we began to proudly contribute to the diverse Santa Clara, California in that imbalanced cradle of disruptive technological and social innovation that is Silicon Valley, yet not immune to prejudices nor lacking in haters of its own.

She is my Amma. A mother from India who graciously encouraged both her children, socialized as different genders, to pursue whichever careers they wished, to make lives with loves of any backgrounds, to believe in and challenge science. An immigrant mother granting me, her loving son, permission to tell her story now amidst my own. To create art as resistance. Your model minority, my Amma is not. Her daughter (my beloved sister Rajani), the love of my life Nima, our friends and I would learn more about Amma over those next few days in late January 2017.

7 days since 45’s Inauguration. Tension in the air could not stifle a sunny day with blue skies in a pause between frequent rainstorms. For this Oath Ceremony was set in that beacon, the diverse Bay Area. Shades and origin stories, tapestries from all over the globe. Relatives and friends, perhaps sponsors and colleagues. Who knows, maybe a guest recently plucked from Match, Tinder, or Grindr. This is the Bay Area. Our hella Yay Area! Rising housing costs, liberal privilege, and all!

Did 45 appear on screen during one of the video presentations? No. Too Soon? Might there be additional requests for allegiances of loyalty to the State? Yes. Awkward, natural-born Americans didn’t have to make such extra pledges, right? No, they didn’t. Leftover videos produced under 44’s compassionate watch? Yes. Thank goodness!

Dr. Martin Luther King speaking at Selma. Dr. King pronouncing that he had a dream at DC’s National Mall. Good choices. RFK. Nice one. Didn’t expect a clip of him. Me neither.

Then warm, thoughtful introductory speeches by officers of the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services to those who had recently succeeded in passing their Interviews and Tests. People on the verge of being deemed full American citizens when so many were under threat of being ripped away from their families simply over national status documentation, disregarding positive contributions to society. American: a term I use sparingly as people throughout the Americas rightfully are Americans. Yet a term that does require less time to state than Citizens of our United States of America. I suppose U.S. Citizens works too.

I feel your confusion, descendant. Sorry, ancestor, we didn’t get such details in our lectures on the 45 era. I’m trying my best to keep up! As was I, dear descendant!

So were your Amma and her fellow inductees called by name?

It wasn’t quite that simple. Each new American citizen was called by their country of origin. After disavowing allegiance to their former homelands and their respective leaders, varied emotions in the crowd, they made the pledge of allegiance to the United States of America under its Constitution. The wonderful names of approximately 60 sovereign, United Nations-recognized countries would next uplift the acoustics of the Heritage Theater in the heart of Silicon Valley. Names of nations that outside the Heritage Theater were facing constant ridicule and mistrust in the new yet already tumultuous era of 45.

Names of nations vying to compete with the United States on the global stage. China! Names of nations borne of ancient civilizations sharing painfully colonial histories, peoples ripped from their natural courses by greed and fear, while teaching the world how to meditate. India! That’s my Amma! There she is! Names of nations scarred by exploitation and indoctrination into the clutches of internalized racism, internalized sexism, yet managing to remain vibrant and creative. Myanmar! Names of nations yearning to feel secure not only in their intellectual and health spheres, but in their very dignity to simply be who they are. Mexico! Names of nations pronounced hesitantly for lack of understanding their ways. Russia! Names of nations that sparked heartbreaking love from an audience, no, a tapestry of humanity cheering with all their trauma and hope for an existence all on this world deserve. Syria! Names of nations, some of which were assigned to borders shaped by former colonial masters, now fractured by the perils of Climate Change. Somalia! Names of nations we in the audience wished with our vigorous clapping would continue to remain names of nations in the decades to come. Ukraine! Names of nations, old friends of this one undergoing similar paradigm shifts. The United Kingdom!

When the announcer finished, she respectfully asked the newly welcomed citizens of our United States whether she had forgotten to declare any other country of origin. As if from a deleted scene from one of our family’s favorite movies, “Coming to America,” a proud black citizen of America stood from their seat, tall, spine poised while radiating gratitude and love – Zambia! Yes, I felt too! Yes, we in the balcony felt it too! A moment of lightness and profundity the likes of which we could not have dreamed when we entered the Heritage Theater. 45, not 44. In spite of that, a truly serendipitous close to the roll call of countries of origin.

Next, the United States Passport application presentation. Then, the Santa Clara County Registrar of Voters presentation. Armed & Intelligence Services recruitment? No. Peace Corps? No. But yes, a Human Trafficking info line presentation. “As new Americans, you are the front lines against human trafficking.“ Say what? Are natural born United States citizens asked to participate in such front lines?

That must have shifted the mood a bit, eh, ancestor? Somewhat, my dear descendant, but the palpably growing anticipation for the handing out of Certificates of Naturalization of the early 45-era United States of America drove us forward. Row by row. Person by person. My Amma patient, smiling. Calm yet increasingly concerned in expression. An immigration officer directed her outside. Rajani, Nima, our friends with balloons atop the balcony eagerly waited to greet my Amma downstairs with hugs. Me however, a feeling returning from 2001 during my own United States Naturalization process creeping back into focus. Ancestor, please tell me! One thing at a time, Beti. My own Amma calls me that, ancestor. I know, dear descendant.

Down to the lobby of the Heritage Theater, awaited a small handful of other new citizens yet to receive their Certificates of Naturalization of the United States. Okay, my Amma wasn’t the only one in limbo. Pulses of chill and tension moved from the muscle fibers closest to the bones up toward the very limits of my skin. All mind and shoulders. Tense, tense shoulders. Of course, by chance, Amma was called last. Meanwhile, I related to our young guest, an elementary school student of rare brilliance, on her first attendance of a United States Citizenship Oath Ceremony, the truth of our feelings, of our brown feelings. A rare young being, one who could adapt to the realities of society. No need to have hidden her from our nerves. Her amazing sociologist mother, was standing by our side. Many children her age would be trapped inside airports worldwide during the coming weekend, in war zones, in drought-stricken legacies of Climate Change. Many, many more children in dire limbo everyday – simply wanting to be children, to become the humans they deserve to become.

At last. The Heritage Center nearly emptied. My Amma then heard that she needed to make an appearance at the Santa Clara County Immigration Office in San Jose the following Tuesday morning between 9am and 11am. 9-11, really, twisted joke of some sort?! I read about 9-11 in History class, ancestor. Good you studied such a critical event, another day that much changed in our world.

Although being told that Amma’s Certificate hadn’t been prepared during a recent push to get a few more applicants through the process – 44, thank you? – being under 45 meant not wanting to rest on our laurels. We brown folks knew how to salve hope with pragmatic patience until such a feat as the Certificate of Naturalization of those United States of America were to be in the wise hands of my Amma. Guess who were the very last ones to leave the Heritage Theater lobby? Ancestor, oh no. Not a prestigious honor after such an illustrious ceremony, but one that we bore. We had our balloons. A vibrant elementary school prodigy in our crew. My sister in town for the weekend all the way from her racial equity work in Baltimore. And two allies, leaders among women. A lovely fountain pool with an approximately 7-foot-tall United States flagpole temporarily stationed in front of the Heritage Theater.

I say, “Okay everybody, let’s take pictures as if we have the Certificate in hand! The same poses and smiles we would have next Tuesday, but we won’t be together like this next Tuesday!” Artists, we all. That day was our day. That flag- red stripes the blood of those not asked permission to shape our nation, blue box of our sadness over their still underappreciated sacrifices, white stripes and stars for those most privileged to lead and continue to extract most from our nation- that flag was our flag for that day. Certificate or no Certificate in Amma’s new United States envelope. Families didn’t get to have days like that often enough. Momentous celebrations. Simply time together.

Hugs. Hugs. Sighs. Sighs. Pose. Pose.

“Psycho Donuts, everyone?” Okay! Ancestor, really? A great Silicon Valley donut chain, real Bay Area – vegan options for Nima and me. Ooh - nice! So, we walked across Winchester Blvd to the other side of Campbell Ave. Oreo Madness donut for me. Fitting- black and white, dark and light. Race in America. Oath Ceremony Day. Giant plastic eyeballs hanging from the ceiling watching us eat donuts and drink coffee. The eve of 45’s Muslim Travel and Refugee Ban. An Executive Order to “protect our nation’s security.” Ancestor, that sounded like a bunch of… Stop! Descendant, let’s not grant 45 the gift of our more…savory vocabulary, shall we? My bad, ancestor. I can’t help it. That Executive Order was so racist, so Islamophobic! Agreed. More brown people, yearning for freedom and that American dream. Many of them not as fortunate as we were to even face the problem we were fortunate to be facing.

4 days of no Green Card in hand for my Amma. Why, ancestor? You see, dearest descendant, in order for my Amma to have been allowed entrance to participate in that day’s Oath Ceremony she was ordered to hand over her United States Permanent Resident Green Card to U.S. Immigration officers. When Amma did this, as everyone else in line with her had to, she had understandably trusted that she would, by ceremony’s end, be holding the more permanent and prized Certificate of Naturalization of those United States of America. Instead - a piece of Immigration and Naturalization Services letterhead with red ink scribbled on it. Ancestor, why didn’t they return her Green Card to your Amma?! Beti, I don’t know. I don’t know.

Only a week into 45, we just couldn’t assume anything as brown Americans. Even when some friends of ours would say that Amma must be “in the system.” That “at least we weren’t Muslims.” Not nice of others to say such things, ancestor. As allies of Muslim-Americans, ourselves often targets of terrible Islamophobia, we would agree with you, dear descendant. Day by day into the infancy of the 45 administration, uncertainty the likes of which our United States wasn’t accustomed to, perhaps since the days of Japanese-American internment camps in World War II.

Wow, ancestor.

A marathon, not a sprint, Beti. 45, not 44. Hence, the next day and a half my family and I reconnected with our larger universe. Recalibration.

The next day while Amma was back at her work, Rajani and I took a drive together from Sunnyvale to San Jose to visit our Dad. Through our hometown Santa Clara, passing near our old apartments and condo, Little League Baseball fields, by our alma maters- Sutter Elementary, Buchser Middle, and Santa Clara High. Ancestor, your Dad, the Professor, brought you to Canada then to the United States! Descendant, my Dad would be honored by you right now. Thanks for recalling him!

The morning after that, my sister and I reunited with Amma, who needed a fun diversion - as did we. Ancestor, Take me out to the ballgame? Which game was that? America’s pastime, my dear descendant. Baseball. A special event called Oakland A’s FanFest. It was hosted by our favorite team, the Oakland Athletics to boost excitement for the 2017 season. Delicious, complimentary food from well-rated, East Bay food trucks. Talks by players, coaches, and the visionary new team president. Games for children. Green and Gold, the best colors in Major League Baseball. My Amma and her daughter, Rajani looked so relaxed, appreciating our intermission from politics, from identity, sitting alongside the marina at Jack London Square next to our glistening San Francisco Bay. A marathon, not a sprint.

Our intermission was nice, but we were getting excited to pick up lost pieces of our heritage. A short journey to nearby Berkeley for Rajani, Amma, and me to meet Nima for a timely excursion to further commemorate the imminent Certificate of Naturalization of those United States for Amma. A privilege for us to join that afternoon’s Berkeley South Asian Radical History Walking Tour. Our hosts, Barnali Ghosh and Anirvan Chatterjee, compassionate purveyors of uncommonly told stories and philosophies, humans whose knowledge of and solidarity with North American West Coast South Asian history would guide us through important parts of Berkeley, including through part of the lovely University of California campus. Streets we had walked many times before, restaurants and shops of so many niches and cultures, eclectic architecture with organically interspersed natural elements, street art, reminders of vast possibility that walking past hopeful undergrad and grad students brings. Breathing in the atmosphere of a city at the heart of California, a state that could be a nation unto itself yet even more now than ever a leader of resistance within our United States of America.

That’s wonderful, Ancestor! You and your family learned so much in that tour. South Asians in California in the late 1800s? The first true free speech movement in the United States? By Indian immigrants in Berkeley advocating for their fellow Indians in British-occupied India? Decades before the free speech breakthroughs of the 1960s Civil Rights Movement? Advocates for LGBTQIA rights who were South Asian, before 1990? Labor, feminist, Black, Indigenous, Latinx, Asian & Pacific Islander solidarity too?

Dear descendant, not often in our American history textbooks. Not your model minorities. Absolutely remarkable. Toward the end of our tour, some people checked their social media to see that while we were connecting with little known pasts and reattaching our lost tapestries of being Desi, of being South Asian, protests were trending on social media at San Francisco International Airport and at many other airports around the United States.

We ended the grand tour in front of Berkeley High School, a place where students had learned how to stand more compassionately for classmates who had faced threats in the weeks and months after 9/11. Inspired by those stories, we Berkeley South Asian Radical History Walking Tour participants coalesced our own stories. We shared our feelings that quickly and necessarily launched from reclaimed pasts to first attempts at grasping a future that seemed to be rewriting as hopes into fears. Executive Order- hour by hour on this day of the implementation of 45’s Refugee and Muslim Travel Ban. Executive Order. For some, a first and now unavoidable chance to publicly process complex emotions bubbling since before Election Day 2016.

Ancestor, did your Amma get up and speak in front of the group?! Why yes, descendant, she did. This woman raised in India not to speak up for fear of male reprisal, forced to wield a more subtle and relatively unseen resistance to patriarchy from her earliest memories in India. In her 20s to the white winters of Maine where she had to keep her head down amidst largely monochromatic local populations. Later to work hard for years in a Valley whose Silicon riches were not for all, in which challenging family, financial, and medical dynamics shaped a necessary stoicism that brought forth for Amma millennia of ancient Indian duty and patience. This woman, this nervously soon-to-be holder of her well-earned Certificate of Naturalization of those United States of America. This mother in front of her adult Indian-American children. This human being who had yearned for greater opportunities in a land to which, at that very moment, many around the world trapped in airports expected to enter with similar hopes of their own. Safety and opportunity. My Amma indeed spoke.

She started by graciously owning her nerves, soon easing into how keenly she sensed that her largely younger audience needed an elder mother’s optimism and faith in our diverse strength – strength to sustain the moral arc of history we shall be the authors of. My Amma had earned every right to publicly air her grievances and root her trauma. Instead, she gifted us that day with her love and faith. The commemoration of my Amma as a beloved #ResistanceAuntie. Proud children we were. We are. And given the largely younger group of undergrads and 20-40 somethings, a needed motherly love to all of that day’s tour participants. Rajani, Nima, me, Amma – group hug afterward. Then, camaraderie with fellow tour goers in a way we hadn’t anticipated. Gratitude.

Shortly after, my sister packed for her flight back to Baltimore, back to another beautiful city of diversity and resistance.

Then, quiet dread. 2 more days of Amma with no Green Card in hand nor her Certificate of Naturalization of those United States. 2 more days of 45 and his administration claiming fake news. 2 more days with growing protests at airports to support fully vetted and wonderful human beings seeking the same amber waves of grain and purple mountains majesty that were promised to us. 2 more days of fear from ICE deportation raids of fellow Americans. 2 more days of women fighting for equal pay. 2 more days of Jewish and Muslim Americans alike receiving hateful threats. 2 more days of disabled folks not able to consistently have access to their society at large. 2 more days of LGBTQIA people introducing themselves to those who had only seen a Queer or Transgender person as a television character.

2 more days of Rust Belt voters pining for jobs in dying industries and industries being overtaken by robots, longing for maintenance of their Affordable Care Act aka “Obamacare.” 2 more days of opioid addiction. 2 more days of artists, laborers, doctors and nurses, teachers. 2 more days of global challenges, environmental damage. 2 more days of extinction of species worldwide by human impacts. 2 more days of Executive Orders and Senate Cabinet confirmations.

2 more days of joy, brilliance, suffering, injustice, and invisibility for Black and Inidgenous (Native) Americans - not dissimilar to the many tens of thousands of days that had come before on this land after the first European colonists fled religious persecution and economic disadvantage. All the while, with their fellow European diaspora, led by aristocrats and generals carving North America into those United States of America and that Canada.

2 days in the life of #MarginSci. 2 days pondering the new call to March for Science.

2 days in a series of weeks of too many murders of vibrant Black Trangender American women.

2 days closer to the apparent hate killing in Olathe, Kansas of my fellow Hyderabad-born engineer, the late Srinivas Kuchibhotla. A man like many of us, contributing and dreaming in the United States. “Go back to your country!” would be among final words Srinivas would hear, uttered by his white American-born murderer. Dare I say, by a terrorist?

2 days checked off the 2017 calendar before 45 would fire the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, James Comey. Ancestor, wasn’t Mr. Comey investigating 45’s ties to Russia? Yep.

That’s another story. Back to January 31, 2017. Back to the palpable fear we felt in those first 100 hundred days of 45. Our family’s 2 days wait were over. 9-11 in the morning. The Tuesday after Amma’s Oath Ceremony had arrived. At last. Logic would dictate to remain calm, not to make assumptions. However, as citizens of the United States well-versed in the nuances, connoisseurs of the intricacies of immigration, as humans experienced in the rigors of generational trauma, we deeply felt the increased confusion, stress, and fear only 10 days into the 45 era. In periodic flights of panic with hopes of relief, Amma and I made the drive to San Jose. That was home for Amma. Where she had worked for many years, made community, raised children. Her land of birth foreign to her when she visited there. Her heritage with her no matter where she was.

Descendant, I really want you to feel what we did. Real-time. Ready? Yes please, ancestor.

We park. We exit the car. I ask Amma to take a breath. I take one myself as I feel nervous ghosts from my own visits as a young man in 2000 and 2001 to U.S. Immigration offices in Orange and Santa Clara Counties. Back when I was stressed over midterms and finals in Engineering School at UC Irvine. We enter the building.

Intimidation. Intensity. The U.S.A. The Bald Eagle. Probably a good, young man just doing his job at the front desk. But these are 45 times, not 44. “Do you have an appointment?” he tests us. Then, Amma starts to nervously say something, as if to express guilt for having courageously passed her U.S. Citizenship Interview and Test, eager to please because so many had ridiculed her, had looked down on her, had thrown slurs at her. That generational trauma, that fear we brown folks caress so closely. Quickly, as I had done many times since I was a child of this immigrant mother for whom English is a third language, I intervened as the fluent, charming leader of my family, “Sir, thank you. My mom had her wonderful Oath Ceremony last Thursday in Campbell. She was told to come here today between 9 and 11 A.M.” Silent beat. Silent beat. Hearts flutter. Silent beat. Cold sweat inching towards pores. The periphery of eyesight closing in. Hopes. Hopes. “Ok, then. Proceed through security check, then to the officer over there.” This first officer points behind and to his right.

Airport travel had more than prepared my brown Amma and the browner me for security check. Shoes off quickly, etc. Retrieve items from the bins. Go to the side seats to put items back in pockets and purse. Shoes and jackets back on. Oh yeah, my belt. Can’t have my pants slip down, here of all places! No pat-down, ancestor? You’re funny, descendant. Another attendant’s desk. This officer relaxed, benign in expression. “Go to the waiting room over there, place your documents in a box at Window X.”

Final round, ancestor? Anticipation as butterflies, my Amma the Madame but only of her own Butterflies on this precipice of momentous moments in her more than six decades of life on this planet. That feeling of hesitation, not to presume the finish line too far in advance. We arrive at said window and see a currently unattended bin. Amma excitedly places into said bin her critical red-pen marked papers from last Thursday’s Oath Ceremony. Then she moves to a lobby seat. I. Don’t. Move. One. Step. Away. From. Amma’s. Papers. From. That. Crucial. Bin. Amma immediately returns to my side as we await.

The same immigration officer from the Heritage Center. Friendly, steady. She looks over her own red-pen handwriting from last Thursday following that Oath Ceremony. The officer goes to a file to her side. We see the framework for a Certificate of Naturalization of our United States of America. Looks very similar to my own. Yet, lacking a picture of my Amma in the appropriate box in the middle of the left side of the Certificate. Where is the picture of my Amma? Is this like when Immigration had lost the initial fingerprints they themselves had taken of me in my own Naturalization process during the transition from 42 to 43? Here I am again, yet 45, not 44.

“We got a few more people through the process on this recent batch, including you. Forgive the delay.” My Amma smiles. I want to smile. Generational trauma is a fierce locking mechanism to the heart though. An adhesive appears from a desk drawer of the officer. This valued representative of our United States of America applies the adhesive to the back of Amma’s small picture. Then she affixes Amma’s picture to the middle of the side of her Certificate of Naturalization of those United States. A pen. The officer signs her portion. Now I wink at Amma. Then I smile with deepest gratitude and relief into the eyes of the immigration officer of those United States of America. (And 44, a fist bump to you). She tells Amma, “Sign it, upon returning home, in black ink your portion.” Voila! Amma’s brand-new Certificate of Naturalization of the U.S. of A.

The officer reminds Amma about soon obtaining Amma’s U.S. Passport. A passport of which, by that morning, we knew had become more and more critical for world travelers into our United States of America, if they were so fortunate to have them. Mind you, 45’s folks had started questioning and, in many cases barring at airports, humans with not only Entry Visas (travel, work, student, and spousal) but also humans with U.S. Permanent Resident Green Cards. 45 had also started prying for social media passwords of many more crossing Stateside. It was with extra appreciation and solidarity, that Amma finally placed between her thumbs and her fingertips for the first time that which had almost become a myth in the preceding few days. Her Certificate of Naturalization of her United States of America!

“Amma let’s get outta here.”

Google Maps. Oh, wow, another branch of Psycho Donuts nearby. Yes! The lack of sleep the night before, nerves over obtaining Amma’s long-awaited Certificate, and stress while watching the news about the experiences of good humans wrongfully blocked around the world from entering these same United States. This lack of sleep after such an emotional roller coaster required fair trade, local Northern California blend coffee. And our crossing the finish line demanded more donuts. And yes, Vegan ones for a very proud and very grateful son of an Amma who was now his fellow U.S. Citizen. “I will vote!” she exclaims. Cheers and congratulations on your newly enhanced Resistance powers, Amma. I love you.

A most fitting notification then flashes across my phone as we finish our late victory breakfast. “Amma, check it, the new teaser for the start of shooting for the pilot of Star Trek: Discovery!” Amma smiled in that way that told me she knew that the step she had just taken was an initiative to further help heal our society. On a day in a week of such social and political upheaval, not just as a new American Citizen, but as a human being aiming towards that utopian Final Frontier. That one day our descendants would, in peace, boldly go where no one has gone before.

That’s me, ancestor! Thanks for gifting family! Your memories make much more sense to me now. So we better get you out of your coma and back to deep space flight training, eh dearest descendant? Yes, please! It’s amazing, ancestor, how much weight and pressure your society placed on national citizenship. I’m a citizen of the Earth, passport not needed. Rest and recovery are your passports now, descendant, so that you soon take your rightful place as a Citizen of the Stars. You won’t need me out there. You got this! Amma would be proud of a young woman like you.

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bedlamfoundry · 4 years

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Anjunabeats Volume 15 Mixed by Above & Beyond - Disc One (Continuous Mix) [@Anjunabeats]

Buy/stream Anjunabeats Volume 15: https://anjunabeats.ffm.to/vol15.oyd Follow Anjunabeats New Releases: https://anjunabeats.ffm.to/newreleases.oyd Stream us on Spotify: https://anjunabeats.lnk.to/AboveBeyondSpotifyYo Listen to Disc Two: https://youtu.be/oQ1xMnyg6LE Watch the music video for 'Reverie': https://youtu.be/232t9OP8AiI Watch our ABGT350 set: https://youtu.be/XlndmZ-4mc8 Anjunabeats, the iconic record label founded in the year 2000 by Above & Beyond, celebrates its 20th anniversary this year. As part of the celebrations, Jono, Tony and Paavo today unveil the 15th release in the celebrated ‘Volume’ series. Crafted by Above & Beyond in their London studio during lockdown, Anjunabeats Volume 15 signals the direction this label is heading in. “The rug has been pulled from under us all as we battle this unprecedented global situation. From isolation comes motivation, however, and it’s time to revisit a trusted friend: the Anjunabeats Volume series.” - Above & Beyond Names both fresh and familiar to Anjunabeats fans - over 30 artists in total - have been included in the mix. Volume debutants include Jordin Post, Le Youth, and gardenstate (a new project from Marcus Schössow and Matthew Felner) are joined by label stalwarts Andrew Bayer, Genix, Gabriel & Dresden, Oliver Smith, Mat Zo, Jason Ross, Tinlicker, Sunny Lax and, of course, Above & Beyond. Disc one, a deeper, progressive mix, features a selection of exciting Anjunadeep talent on display: Marsh, Qrion, Durante & HANA, Frost and PROFF. The mix builds up to disc two, where Above & Beyond takes full flight. Disc two has no less than six Above & Beyond contributions, including three new club instrumentals: “I Saw Good”, “Jam” and “Crash”. There are two Volume 15 exclusive remixes of Above & Beyond’s staples: “Oceanic”, remixed by Germany’s Jerome, and “Sun In Your Eyes”, remixed by Sunny Lax. Some formidable collaborations have been turned in from Andrew Bayer - who teams up on tracks with both Genix and Cosmic Gate - Grum and Genix and Spencer Brown and ALPHA 9. Trance music’s answer to the power trio, Elysian (ilan Bluestone, Maor Levi and Emma Hewitt) also make an appearance. We dedicate this mix to you, our Anjunafamily, and in particular to those who are facing hardship at the moment. Stay strong, we will dance together again soon. - Above & Beyond Anjunabeats Volume 15 Mixed By Above & Beyond is available on July 31. A limited-edition run of physical CD copies and accompanying art print is available to pre-order from the Anjuna Music Store. Disc One (00:00) 1. Gabriel & Dresden feat. Sub Teal 'Falling Forward' (Qrion’s Ambient Intro Mix) (05:09) 2. Durante & HANA '13 Voices' (09:48) 3. Marsh 'Lost In You' (14:27) 4. Le Youth 'Arizona' (20:23) 5. Jordin Post 'I Know You' (24:33) 6. gardenstate 'By Your Side' (28:56) 7. Super8 & Tab 'Irufushi' (Marsh Remix) (33:18) 8. Spada 'Part Of Me' (37:57) 9. Kyau & Albert 'Beehive' (41:49) 10. Tinlicker 'Sleepwalker' (45:54) 11. Frost 'Overtones' (PROFF Remix) (51:52) 12. Jerome Isma-Ae & Milkwish 'No Time To Wait' (Milkwish 4AM Mix) (57:45) 13. Spencer Brown & ALPHA 9 'Ariel' (1:03:33) 14. gardenstate 'Surreal' (1:07:12) 15. Above & Beyond pres. Tranquility Base 'Oceanic' (Jerome Isma-Ae Remix) (1:13:48) 16. Mat Zo 'Problems' Live dates: https://aboveandbeyond.nu/tour Website: https://aboveandbeyond.nu Facebook: https://facebook.com/aboveandbeyond Twitter: https://twitter.com/aboveandbeyond Instagram: https://instagram.com/aboveandbeyond #AboveandBeyond #Anjunabeats #Volume15 #BeFree #BeBeautiful #BeYOU #BeLOVE #BedlamFoundry #IAmBedlam #EDM #Above&Beyond #Paavo #Jono #Tony #A&B #Anjunabeats #Anjuna #ABGT #GroupTherapy #Anjunadeep #Volume15 #AnjunabeatsVolume15 #AndrewBayer #MatZo #JasonRoss #gardenstate #LeYouth #Genix #OliverSmith #ilanBluestone

#IAmBedlam #Above&Beyond #Paavo #Jono #Tony #A

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jeremystrele · 4 years

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Three Enviable Industrial Style Interiors

Three industrial style interiors with three distinctly different approaches. Interior design number one is a bright and sunny two bed guest house with a concrete and copper coloured living room, and a luxury spa building a breezy holiday vibe. Interior number two is an industrial style home enriched with an upscale classic cosiness and modern features. Then, tour number three is a jaw dropping industrial loft style home that belongs to a musician, and it even incorporates a stage right in the living room. Custom built furniture pieces give the imagination plenty to work with, whilst gritty decor shows just how to set the raw vibe.

Designer: Level 80 Architects Visualizer: Level 80 Architects In Minsk, Belarus, this 110 square metre guest house includes an open plan lounge-kitchen-diner, two double bedrooms, a luxury sauna, and an outdoor kitchen area. The lounge is a copper toned cosy pad with ultra modern furniture and indoor plants to enliven and brighten. A square coffee table stands at the heart of the arrangement, coloured with red glass vases.

The complex structure of the guesthouse results in steel and wooden beams too beautiful to be hidden, so they are left exposed at the surface in some areas and ceilings. This open aesthetic is carried through into the kitchen design, where open kitchen shelving displays a wine collection, glasses and flatware. The wall of repositional shelving also includes a series of planters for kitchen herbs. Industrial inspired swivel bar stools pull up at an adjacent kitchen island.

The kitchen island design includes shallow drawers under the dining peninsula countertop, in which to store cutlery and placemats right where they’re needed.

Ladders become part of the industrial style decor, alongside a gallery of wall art.

Glass vases and a cutting board make a centrepiece on the island.

The back of the industrial style guesthouse is dominated by a concrete retaining wall, which becomes an interior feature. In the first bedroom, a designer table lamp stretches over one side of a grey upholstered bed, whilst a pendant light brightens the other. See more bedroom pendant lights.

The second bedroom is brightened by an Oda style lamp. Originals are available here.

A large copper pendant shade dangles above a small side table, and contrasts beautifully with teal accents in the room.

The bedrooms have open fronted wardrobes to continue the utilitarian vibe.

Soft lighting brings relaxed ambiance to the luxury sauna.

Clerestory windows embrace sunlight and nature as interior components.

Designer: Leonid Sizikov Our next place of interest is a red brick apartment that uses its build materials as interior inspiration. Sheer curtains swish against exposed brickwork, and perimeter lights exaggerate the walls raw texture. The stylish floor lamp is the Oda Pulpo style floor lamp. Originals are available here.

An L-shaped modern sofa defines the border of the lounge area in the open plan living room. Two rugs overlap across the floor to layer and soften the decor. A large piece of modern art adds personality.

The TV wall is wood clad, with a modern media unit and home cinema speakers positioned in front.

The industrial living room has a rustic coffee table to build character and age into the scheme.

In the dining area, a traditionally inspired chandelier gives the space a sense of grandeur and ceremony.

Modern dining chairs keep the dining set bang up to date.

An industrial style bookcase makes use of space between windows.

Moving into the bedroom of this industrial style apartment, we find an alluring cushioned bedstead. Twinkling bedroom pendant lights and a swing arm wall lamp shine against a black boarded feature wall.

Dark curtains and furniture build a moody atmosphere.

An ultra trendy barn door pulls closed across the closet.

The second bedroom follows the same dark colour theme…

… But this time with a splash of moody blue.

Designer: ZOOI Interior studio Visualizer: ZOOI Interior studio Last but certainly not least, we get to The Cactus Loft. An interior design that was created for a drummer and his wife, who are attracted to the industrial aesthetic. The young couple asked for an atmospheric hangout area that they could enjoy with friends, a bespoke steel kitchen, and a place for a beloved drum set.

In the lounge, the base of the bespoke sofa and an amalgamated media cabinet wrap the room.

The industrial style loft started life as a small two-room apartment. The kitchen and the living room have been combined in order to accommodate drum set staging. The ceiling above the drum podium is lowered for the installation of noise isolation. A supporting column between the kitchen and lounge becomes an outline for the zone.

Stained-glass cacti were commissioned to style the interior, and have became a characterful and shaping element of the apartment.

The sofa is a place for an audience to watch the drummer, or to watch a big screen movie once a projector screen is brought down in front of the kit. The ceiling is decorated with concrete and metal lathing that covers all the wiring for the projector itself, and the lighting. The custom coffee table design, which is also used in the hallway, is made of two separate cubes so that it is multifunctional and transferable as seating or side tables.

Metal is a major component of this interior, maybe most of all in the shining steel fronted kitchen. A tempered glass dining table lets the base cabinets remain the focus of the room. Unique plant stands bring bursts of greenery into the arrangement.

The original raw kitchen wall brings deep texture to the backsplash area. Dining table lights are suspended from a ceiling joist fashioned with micro cement.

Parquet board flooring covers the apartment, except for the TV lounge where a soft carpet is laid.

Slatted wood fascias add natural warm tones.

Glass cacti colour the bedroom too.

A small lounge area rests by the panoramic window view.

A green bed throw pulls colour inspo from the stained glass cacti.

Inside the walk in wardrobe/dressing room, black glass strips are backlit to illuminate the clothing collection.

A custom built closet system keeps the pieces well organised.

The bathroom is decorated with micro cement.

A rustic vanity unit and bathroom vanity light soften the look of the industrial wall decor.

Recommended Reading: Industrial Style Living Room Design Industrial Style Dining Room Design Industrial Style Bedroom Design 32 Industrial Style Kitchens 51 Industrial Style Bathrooms

Two Industrial Style Homes With A Colourful Twist

2 Sophisticated Industrial Style Homes

Luxury Apartment With An Industrial Vibe And A Cool Hallway [With Floor Plans]

Moody Modern Industrial Interiors With Wood And Concrete Decor

Industrial Style Dining Room Design: The Essential Guide

4 Apartments That Turn Up The Dial On Industrial Style

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drewebowden66 · 4 years

Text

Three Enviable Industrial Style Interiors

The kitchen island design includes shallow drawers under the dining peninsula countertop, in which to store cutlery and placemats right where they’re needed.

Ladders become part of the industrial style decor, alongside a gallery of wall art.

Glass vases and a cutting board make a centrepiece on the island.

The second bedroom is brightened by an Oda style lamp. Originals are available here.

A large copper pendant shade dangles above a small side table, and contrasts beautifully with teal accents in the room.

The bedrooms have open fronted wardrobes to continue the utilitarian vibe.

Soft lighting brings relaxed ambiance to the luxury sauna.

Clerestory windows embrace sunlight and nature as interior components.

The TV wall is wood clad, with a modern media unit and home cinema speakers positioned in front.

The industrial living room has a rustic coffee table to build character and age into the scheme.

In the dining area, a traditionally inspired chandelier gives the space a sense of grandeur and ceremony.

Modern dining chairs keep the dining set bang up to date.

An industrial style bookcase makes use of space between windows.

Dark curtains and furniture build a moody atmosphere.

An ultra trendy barn door pulls closed across the closet.

The second bedroom follows the same dark colour theme…

… But this time with a splash of moody blue.

In the lounge, the base of the bespoke sofa and an amalgamated media cabinet wrap the room.

Stained-glass cacti were commissioned to style the interior, and have became a characterful and shaping element of the apartment.

The original raw kitchen wall brings deep texture to the backsplash area. Dining table lights are suspended from a ceiling joist fashioned with micro cement.

Parquet board flooring covers the apartment, except for the TV lounge where a soft carpet is laid.

Slatted wood fascias add natural warm tones.

Glass cacti colour the bedroom too.

A small lounge area rests by the panoramic window view.

A green bed throw pulls colour inspo from the stained glass cacti.

Inside the walk in wardrobe/dressing room, black glass strips are backlit to illuminate the clothing collection.

A custom built closet system keeps the pieces well organised.

The bathroom is decorated with micro cement.

A rustic vanity unit and bathroom vanity light soften the look of the industrial wall decor.

Recommended Reading: Industrial Style Living Room Design Industrial Style Dining Room Design Industrial Style Bedroom Design 32 Industrial Style Kitchens 51 Industrial Style Bathrooms

Two Industrial Style Homes With A Colourful Twist

2 Sophisticated Industrial Style Homes

Luxury Apartment With An Industrial Vibe And A Cool Hallway [With Floor Plans]

Moody Modern Industrial Interiors With Wood And Concrete Decor

Industrial Style Dining Room Design: The Essential Guide

4 Apartments That Turn Up The Dial On Industrial Style

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