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#i like this font its bouncy :)
typefacetournament · 4 months
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ROUND 1 - BLUE GROUP
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Propaganda under the cut.
Berlin Sans: "So fun looking", "It's just so bouncy"
Bonbon: "look at it!! look at its spirals and hearts and stars and flourishes, it's beautiful. a vote for bonbon is a vote for joy and whimsy everywhere" - note: there were multiple fonts called bonbon and none of them i found had spirals. in retrospect it may have been the google font. why are there like six of these
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fragranceofdarkness · 2 years
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top 5 fonts !
HI SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I DIDNT SEE IT IN MY ACTIVITY ;-;
times new roman - this ones a bit basic but it feels like late nights working on hw with my friends, like writing stories and cheesy fanfics and the absolute worst one liners. it feels like writing for fun and wips and just writing for the hell of it. it feels fun and slightly protective, slightly reserved, but for a good time.
comic sans - lol haha funny font but also this one has so many good memories attached to it. it reminds me of middle school and bright colors and laughing so hard youre in tears. its stupid jokes and loud and feels like foam
courier new - this was my favorite as a kid :) reminiscent of old typewriters. reminds me of staying up late reading nancy drew and late night goosebumps episodes. spooky and nostalgic and feels like spider webs and fallen leaves and blanket forts and halloween episodes. its cozy like a fire and smells of smoke and old books. it feels like home :)
my font - this ones special its my handwriting :) its a bit messy but legible, albeit a little shaky . it reminds me of when i was younger and my best friend and i made our own secret code to pass notes to each other without anyone else knowing what we were saying. it feels smooth and round and bouncy and full of life, full of energy, sounds like pop punk and is also warm as hell, not as warm as courier new but not cold either
beauty - i lovelovelove script fonts so much just because like . handwriting is something that is so representative of people yknow? like i love looking at peoples handwriting and seeing how it reflects them as a person. beauty feels a bit more antiquated, a bit older with a bit of charm. it feels like ink on yellowed paper, a scribbled love letter or quick note to someone you care about. it loops and twists and feels so very graceful and deliberate, like whoever leaving the message knows exactly what they wish to convey in the most precise way. this one also feels like mysteries but more in the way of a letter from a loved one years ago. its tinged with nostalgia
~ send me top five '_____''s !! ~
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viscombylouis · 4 months
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Intersections | Evaluation
From start to finish, this project for me has been a strange one. When we first got the brief, I was incredibly confused by what it was asking of us but when I had grasped it I had a good idea of where I wanted to go with it.
Along the way I had many idea changes, and times where I just went back and refined or I just didn't think an idea was good enough so I scrapped it. I started off with a mind map and 4 initial ideas, all of which I liked a lot but one particularly stuck out to me (the London tube) and this idea continued to give me more and more ideas about how far I could take it.
Once I had the initial idea, I developed it into the idea of an app people could use to communicate with each other (although it wouldn't fare well in our society), I begun refining it by adding a colour scheme, and safety measures which I actually found quite fun as it gave me ideas in my head as to how it would look when it was done.
Finally, came to actually curating and designing the app which was definitely the best part. I took inspiration from similar apps like instagram, but adding features of not so similar apps that utilised the same sort of technology like the dating apps happn and hinge. I begun integrating features of each of the apps to make it look as authentic as I could which I found quite difficult as making an friendship based off proximity to NOT turn into a stalking app was harder than I thought. The apps design was majoritally based off instagram and some train ticket apps I saw which gave it a professional clean image. I did end up using the font "Babydoll" which brought down the professional feel but definitely added the fun, bouncy element I wanted the app to have especially as a good chunk of my market was to be aimed at kids.
Much of my time I feel was wasted as I had a major artist block through much of the project so I think it could've looked better but I still like how it turned out a lot. I also think I could've done more intensive research than just looking at apps so I could've got a better idea what people would want from an app like this perhaps doing a survey or travelling the tube for a day would be effective. I will be keeping this in mind for future projects.
Overall, I really like how my app looks, I would personally use it as I think its a very cool concept and has potential to make the train journey a lot more interesting and bridges the antisocial gap. I think without my artist block I could've made a more indepth project but I am still proud of the current outcome very much.
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gracechoreography · 8 months
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So my birthday is Wednesday and I’m on pace to finish the novel rewrite before then.
You have to understand. I have written 19 novel drafts. Until now, I have never been able to rewrite a single one. My brain always went into nuclear meltdown mode within ten minutes of trying anything remotely approaching ‘revision/editing/rewriting.’ I’ve been trying to rewrite this novel since I wrote it in 2014. This. Is. HUGE. This is a bigger accomplishment in my mind than when I self-produced (choreographed/performed/filmed/edited) an entire dance show earlier this year.
So last week when I realised I could finish the thing by my birthday, I decided I wanted to give myself the gift of a physical printout of my first-ever COMPLETE novel rewrite.
Well, I mentioned this to my husband who usually tries to be supportive of my various art endeavours. And he just — LOST it.
He went on and on about how printing out one (1) copy of my 175-page novel would cause paper to build up everywhere, in every room, on every available surface and in piles and how our apartment would look like a hoarder house. Then he gave me the silent treatment for an hour and snapped at me whenever I tried to explain that one (1) double sided printout of my novel would be less than half an inch thick and would live quite comfortably on my desk.
Never mind that literally a month and a half ago I decluttered my storage closet and threw out a literal BOX of paper that had served its purpose. Nope. Doesn’t matter. My 80-some page printout will apparently fill all that space and more like some kind of inflatable bouncy house on steroids until we are pressed against the windows helplessly like bugs on a windshield by the sheer girth of my 80,000-word novel in 12-point font.
This hurts so bad. It’s a milestone birthday and I’m completing one of the biggest and most daunting projects I have EVER thought to take on, and he just — doesn’t care. My big accomplishment is his big inconvenience.
Guess my birthday won’t be special again this year.
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charlenea-grad603 · 1 year
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Thumbnail Sketches
Here are some thumbnails I sketched to help brainstorm for brochure. The first page details my process for the front cover and/or poster, experimenting with the placement of the text and the different typefaces. I wanted to attempt to create a typeface that was playful, yet legible, using unique letter forms to further illustrate the idea of typography. On the next piece of paper, I worked on the inside of the brochure its self, playing around with different ways to place the images of the speakers in the centre as I liked that layout. Out of all of the concepts I sketched out, my favourites were the curved and bouncy font for the cover and the circular brochure layout on the top right.
My next steps are to digitally illustrate these concepts and improve on them, experimenting with colour and the finer details.
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jaetaimjadore · 2 years
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Illumination | mk.l [1] (discontinued)
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Pairing: Mark Lee x reader
Genre: fluff, angst, soulmates, the world is black and white until you encounter your soulmate, born with your soulmate’s first word tattooed to your body, medical student!AU
Warnings: profanity, slowburn, reader’s initially morally questionable choices, made-up/unrealistic depiction of college life, members aged up/down, food
Word Count: 10.9k
‣ Chapter Synopsis: Your life so far has consisted of four things: black, white, grey, and blue. The black, white and grey part was all well and good, but the blue…let’s just say that colour is a real pain in your ass arm.
Parts: [Blue] [It's Complicated] (ongoing)
Author's Note: *gasp* ok, ok, ok I finally did it. I finally released the first chapter of Illumination, I'm shaking AAAAAA. This chapter is a precursor for context purposes – a backstory if you will (but not a prologue, idek it's kinda complicated) – and will provide the essential information to understand the plot in future chapters. This is my first fanfic ever, so I really hope you enjoy it!!!
Taglist: @wordholic @m1ss-foodi3 @skye-is-here @marksquare @serenity-17 @yyangcoffee @allmylove2chenji @toxicenough
request or dm to be added to taglist <3
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PART 1: Blue
You huff, flopping down dramatically amongst the scattered papers on your dishevelled bed, the assortment of rustling sounds loud enough to travel through the phone your unoccupied hand presses to your ear.
“I’m just saying,” says the sickeningly sweet voice matter-of-factly over the speaker, sounding far more interested in whatever he was doing than the conversation at hand.
You drop the piece of paper clutched delicately in your other hand, letting it drift wherever the wind of your air conditioner allows. “Winwin, you’re this close to making me lose lose my mind.” You know he can’t see the way your thumb and forefinger pinch together to emphasise your point, but you do it nonetheless. With a groan you sit up, “You know I can’t apply for medicine without full colour vision. I mean, how would I medically treat a person without even being able to distinguish red from green?” You blink, adding with a mumble, “Whatever those colours even look like…”
After a short silent pause, you shake your head to yourself, bowing down as your voice thins into a demoralised hum. “It’s just not possible, Winwin. I guess I just need to accept that.” You glance towards the crook of your left elbow with knitted eyebrows, scanning each letter of the word etched into that part of your skin over and over again.
Blue
It's in a sort of pretty cursive font you’d always aspired to write in as a child – but never could, mind you – there it is, this word on, or rather, in your skin. And it’s the one thing that’s stopping you from achieving your dreams.
You’ve known of its existence as long as you’ve known yourself, stamped by its decree since you were brought into this world fresh from the womb; it could have even been there since you were inside for all you could tell. According to your mother’s apparent excellent memory, you had first noticed the mark when you were merely 10 weeks of age, probably around the time you discovered you had hands, she had told you with a chuckle.
By the age of two, you could speak the word without fault, having been coaxed into voicing it by your parents far too many times that it would’ve been worrying if you couldn’t. But it wasn’t until you were four-years-old, bouncy and lively in every which way a child of such age could be, that you'd understood it wasn’t simply just a few squiggly birthmarks on the inside of your arm; it was the age when you could finally read it and understand what it was and what it meant.
⋆⋆⋆
You and your mother were at the local beach, sat on the checked picnic rug in front of the vast ocean, the sun beating rays of heat against the little flower-patterned bucket hat sitting on your sand-ridden hair, while her hair flew beautifully along with the pleasant breeze.
You sit between your mum’s open legs, on top of her splayed-out sundress giggling as you poke her shiny sunglasses with a small pointer finger. “Baby, can you read this out for me?” Her fingers lightly tap the word on your arm. You nod enthusiastically, almost tipping the bucket hat out of its place if it weren't for her gentle hand.
“Buhhh…ulllll…oooo. BuhLOOO.” You crack a big, toothy grin, looking at your mother expectantly. She chuckles fondly, kissing your warm cheeks, cooing, “Yes! Blue! Good work, Y/n!” You grin even wider, feeling proud to make her happy. “Do you know what blue means?”
You shake your head.
“Blue is a colour,” she speaks softly, emphasising ‘colour’, earning a confused frown from you.
“Cuh-luhr?” You tilt your head in question, blinking round curious eyes up at her, causing her to smile. “Yes, colour. Colours are…” she pauses, contemplating her words to fit her four-year-old’s limited vocabulary, “Colours are like your feelings. When you feel happy you might feel the colour yellow.”
“Yehlow,” you sound out, nodding your head along with each syllable.
“Yes, that’s it, yellow! And when you feel angry-” she pouts with knitted eyebrows, feigning anger, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles, “-you might feel the colour red.”
“Red," you pout too, imitating the emotion, before an idea pops into your head, eyes lighting up in thought. “Momma, momma, what about buhloo?”
This causes her to still for a moment, looking up through the corner of her eyes in thought. “Hmm, blue can be whatever you want it to be, baby. You might feel happy or sad…or excited.” She brings her fingers up to your sides and starts ticking you until you gleefully drop back against the rug, flailing around before being attacked with innumerable fluttering kisses.
⋆⋆⋆
“You know, staring at it won’t make it go away…or make you feel any better, Y/n,” Winwin tsks over the phone, causing you to snap out of your dazed reverie with comically wide eyes and a magically straightening posture.
“What? How’d you know I was looking at it?” The bemused tone in your voice earns you a scoff from the boy in your ears. “Uhh, because I’m your best friend and you always look at it," he speaks with a flat tone.
Deflating, you sigh in defeat. “Touché.” You turn your neck around to take in the horrendous sight of your messy bed once again, hastily gathering the papers in a makeshift pile before continuing, “My point being, I can’t just apply for the course by lying about my illumination, because A: that’s just morally wrong, and I’m not that kind of person, and B: they’re gonna find out anyway when I can’t tell apart basic dipstick colours. I’m just saying.” You quote your best friend’s words from earlier with a grin and a mental mic drop…although you’re not quite sure why you’re so proud of yourself when you’ve single-handedly argued against getting into the course of your dreams.
“Whatever you say, bubbles, but take it from me – someone who can tell apart dipstick shades – you’re gonna meet your soulmate sooner or later. I mean, I did, and that’s gotta mean something, so surely you’ll meet yours soon." he pauses, half expecting you to interject his little speech, but to his surprise, you don’t.
“Look, you’ve nailed your pre-recs and you passed your finals with flying colours not even a month ago...no pun intended."
You snort at the remark.
"Y/n, you’ve practically already been accepted in Neo Central’s clinical program. Are you really gonna throw this all away in despair? Over that goddamn tattoo?" Winwin pauses, hesitating. "What happened to us getting into med school together?” He almost sulks over the phone and you find yourself frowning, feeling guilty as ever.
You did promise each other you’d both work hard throughout high school to achieve results that would get you into med school without a hitch. And work hard you did, studying together in the library often till midnight, waking up early to fit in that extra little bit of revision. Racking your brains for the answers until you had that beloved lightbulb moment. You endured it all together.
And the efforts definitely payed off, both of you being among the top achievers of your grade; Winwin even earning the dux award in grades 11 and 12, which you couldn’t be prouder of.
In a way, you suppose you’re obligated to him for being by your side through some of the toughest years of your life so far, but your situation wasn’t exactly allowing for decent recompense on your part.
Maybe I could try applying…
You bite your lip in thought, entertaining the idea briefly before shaking it away.
No, it’s wrong, and even if I got accepted, I wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt
Sighing with a devastated expression, you reply, “Sicheng, I know…and I’m really sorry. But I thought I would’ve had my illumination by the time college applications were due.” You place the pile of papers onto your nightstand and lie back properly against your pillows. “And for the last time, please stop calling me bubbles.”
Bubble
Six letters, two syllables, and one utterly ridiculous word.
But it was your utterly ridiculous first word. Go figure.
This was yet another word of significance in your life, and you’d only come to know why by the age of eight; the age when you also fully understood what the peculiar little word in the crook of your elbow truly meant for you.
⋆⋆⋆
“Wait, so this-” you point at the word on your straightened arm, showing it to your parents who busy themselves with the night’s work in the kitchen, “-is my soulmate’s first word?” You scrunch your nose, almost disgusted with what they’d just told you.
“Yes,” both your parents speak in unison, both glancing up at you for a second, before resuming their chores, you blinking up at them obliviously. “Whaaaat?” your face screws ever tighter as you drag out the word, looking back to your arm in confusion before flopping it down to your side, shrugging, “I don’t get it.”
Your dad dries his hands on a dishcloth before walking around the island and patting one of the bar stools, pointing his chin toward it for you to saunter over and struggle to sit upon by yourself. “Do you remember what your first word was, love?” he asks.
“That’s easy, bubble,” you reply simply.
“Exactly,” he smiles, “Just like you had your first word – bubble – someone else had theirs, and that’s blue.” He unfolds your crossed arms and points at the word. “And just like you have that special person’s first word on your arm, that special person also has this special person’s first word on their arm,” he playfully taps at your cheek, his words causing you to smile, even letting out a tiny giggle at being called special.
“Soooo, someone else has bubble on their arm? In the same place?” you ask, starting to get invested after grasping the gist.
“Yes," your mother interjects blithely, joining you and your father on the other side of the kitchen island after finishing her work with the dishes. “And guess what?” She bends down to your face level and whispers, causing you to perk up in hopes of listening in on a potential secret. “WHAT?” You absentmindedly whisper-shout, earning a few chuckles from your parents.
“Mum and dad have matching marks too,” she smiles, watching as your eyes widen and a dramatic gasp falls past your now ‘o’ shaped lips. “Can I see?” You ask, eyes lighting up in fascination and excitement.
They share a soft look with one another, nodding to you before looking down at their feet, your gaze following. Etched on the inside of both of their right ankles are the words cat - on your mother's ankle - and ball - on your father's.
The sight sends another loud gasp tumbling from your lips. “Woooow,” you look up at them with stars in your eyes, as they smile brightly back.
“Do you remember your colours?” your dad chuckles.
You eagerly nod in response. “Yes! Yellow means happy, but the sun and bananas are yellow too, I just can’t see it yet. Red means angry, but apples and love hearts are red toooo!” You shape your hands into a heart and push it out from your chest towards your parents, before dropping it with a huff. “But I can’t see red yet either." Your mum responds by reaching forward and stroking your head as you continue. “Blue is the colour of the sky and the sea…oooo and this is blue too!” You excitedly point to the word on your arm, recalling your mother describing its deep blue tint to you not too long ago.
You’ve learnt a lot for a child of your age, always the inquisitive type, never hesitating to ask the colour of every little grey object that caught your eye, and making sure to recite the colour without fail. One might say this was further provoked by the day one of your friends came screaming to you that she could see colour.
It made you curious and perhaps even a little envious in every essence of your eight-year-old self – though you’d never admit it aloud.
Your friend had mentioned a funny word that you couldn’t quite remember. Ilima…minli…alima…what was it?
“Don't worry, lovely, you’ll be able to see colours soon.” Your mother winks at you.
“When?” you flick your gaze back and forth between your parents in wonder.
“Well, when you meet the special person whose first word was blue,” your dad starts, tapping the tattoo, “That’s when you’ll see colours.”
“It’s called your illumination.” Your mum pronounces the word distinctly, and you repeat it back once, twice, seven times, however long as it takes for you to remember it.
⋆⋆⋆
“Alright, bubbles, just know that I support whatever decision you choose,” Winwin chimes into your ear drums, yawning loudly through the speaker.
“Thanks, Win,” you smile, feeling a comforting warmth spread through your chest.
He seriously is the best, you really don’t deserve hi-
“-no matter how stupid I think it is.”
Scratch that.
You roll your eyes, “Ok ding dong, get some rest, you obviously need it.”
“Night bubbl-“
“Don’t. Call. Me. Bubbles,” you cut Winwin off, grumbling, “Good night.”
You end the call and drop the phone on your chest lightly, sighing for the nth time that night and turning to face your laptop on the other side of the room. Its light is bright and inviting as far as the average unilluminated eye could tell, coaxing you to reluctantly swing your feet over the edge of your bed and drag yourself to sit on the leather chair in front it.
Typing in your password on the keyboard, you manoeuvre and click the trackpad to a document saved on your desktop, eventually met face-to-face with a college application.
The college application. Not the other irrelevant ones you’d already filled out, emailed, and had interviews for; those don’t really matter, even though you suppose they should.
This application however, was the one that was supposed to be securing your admission into Neo Central College, the college with the most prestigious medicine program of them all. This application is in tip-top shape; already filled with words from top to bottom just in case your soulmate decides to show up last minute.
It’s right in front of you, all ready to be emailed through, to be read and commended and accepted by the college of your dreams.
You look back to your arm and the action quite ironically bursts your bubble. Here this damned tattoo sits, mocking everything you’ve ever worked for, stopping you from reaching the one thing you’ve always wanted. You sit there in silence staring back and forth between the the application and your tattoo, swivelling around every once in a while in your chair, blowing away loose strands of hair every couple minutes. You think and wallow in a deadly cycle, recalling Winwin’s words from earlier.
"Are you really going to throw this away?"
Well, am I? you think to yourself. But do I really have a choice in the matter?
Your internal struggle causes you to stand up and start pacing around your room, feet tapping unrhythmically and teeth gnawing at your lips.
Is this what I want? You try to reason with yourself. It’s still not too late to apply to NCC, admissions don’t close for another month.
Surely you wouldn't let Winwin down, right? It’s the least you could do not to. Right?
A buzz from your phone startles you, luring you toward your bed to read the message:
Loselose [10:36pm]: My interview’s in a couple weeks…you better wish me luck whether you decide to apply or not 🔪🔪🔪
You grimace at the text, dropping your head back to face the ceiling, feeling even worse now that the words are displayed in front of you.
How nice it must have been for him to have found his soulmate and be able to see the world in colour. You’re happy for him, you truly are, but that was supposed to be you too. You and him together.
Loselose [10:37pm]: I know you’ve already filled that application out
Loselose [10:37pm]: It’s still not too late to submit…if you want 🤷‍♂️
You simply blink.
If you want…
You eyes grow as big as saucers.
What the fuck, of course I want to! screams your slightly fogged up internal voice. Who cares if you haven’t had your illumination yet? This is your life, that you control; nobody and nothing else has the right to take that control away from you.
With this in mind, you dash back with long strides to your laptop, an empowering newfound energy coursing through your veins, instigated from Winwin’s confronting text. With shaking hands, you open up your mailbox, dragging the application file into the already drafted email, and hitting send.
Email sent.
You flop back into your chair, pushing it back slightly from the desk while releasing a deep breath you frankly weren’t aware you were holding in the first place.
Well, that was fast.
You start to feel light-headed.
I mean, I’ve got the grades. Again, starts your pious self-talk. And I’ve got the pre-requisites, and the extra credits. Worst case scenario, they discover my non-existent illumination…but surely they won’t kick me out of the medical program once I get in, right? What could go wrong?
What could possibly go wrong?
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Mark Lee’s first word was blue.
So weird he’s always thought, still can’t bring himself to understand how it‘s even possible for a baby to speak a word as phonetically complex as that. He'd come to accept it eventually after his mother’s incessant convincing over the years that she swore she heard him babble it when he was an eleven-month-old infant.
It was undoubtedly a weird first word, however, not the least in a bad way.
Though Mark hasn’t ever seen anything remotely blue in his eighteen years and two months of existence – can't see anything other than black, white and grey for that matter – blue is in fact, his favourite colour. And if someone were to ask him how he came to that conclusion without his illumination, he wouldn’t dare tell them that it’s been his favourite colour ever since his mother told him what colours were in the first place.
He just feels it, likes the vibe, flows with it. He’s drawn to the enigma surrounding the word blue; how he’s been told before that the sea and the sky are both coincidentally blue. That underneath all those dull monochrome hues, the two most vast and boring plains to exist, are perhaps not so boring and plain in another person’s reality.
The ocean waves which Mark can only describe as an assorted palette of greys, whites and blacks, is, in fact, the same beautiful rolling sapphire silk to the average illuminated folk. The sky Mark walks beneath, most often a dull mid-toned grey – perhaps whitish on the best days, darkish on the worst – is the same sky luckier people would spend hours admiring; waking up at the crack of dawn to watch the dulcet sunrise, a white ball too bright for its own good, or so Mark would describe it as.
These are things he can’t even begin to imagine. After all, he can only be acquainted with the life he’s so far lead, and it is the most dull, plain and monotonous notion to have ever graced his conscience. Nonetheless, the possibilities lying in the palm of Mark's future, pique his curiosity. But he knows all too well what happened to the curious cat, so that's exactly where he reluctantly chooses to draw the line.
The truth is, he wants to witness colour. Desperately. But he knows that to witness any sort of blue, green, red, or yellow he must undergo his illumination. He must meet the one.
His one.
And that's where Mark's main issue stems from; he really can’t care less about his one.
Fuck that he often says, absentmindedly glancing down at the ink etched into the crook of his left elbow every time the thought pops into his head. He wasn’t born with the word inked into his skin like some of his childhood friends were, it simply faded into existence when he was about four months old, or so his mother had professed to him more than enough times his poor ears could handle.
Bubble
That’s what the letters spell, written in a fancy font that most girls in his classes would compliment as aesthetic.
But Mark hates it with all his being.
What a stupid word.
⋆⋆⋆
“Renjun, Jaemin, do you have a favourite colour?” Mark asks his friends as they sit side by side on their regular stone bench, shaded from the blaring sun by the swaying leaves of the tall tree up above.
Mark sits to the very left of the two boys, face scrunched while roughly tugging at the jammed zipper of his Spiderman lunchbox. Renjun – who sits in the middle – promptly snatches it, returning it to Mark unjammed and open, displaying his sandwich packaged neatly in cling wrap.
“Thanks, Jun,” Mark replies, ever the well-mannered boy despite his often-troublesome tendencies.
Taking his sandwich out, he immediately frowns with a small humph.
Tuna coleslaw; eight-year-old Mark’s worst nightmare.
Yuck!
Sniffing something a little more delicious, Mark cranes his neck forward, eyes landing straight upon the source; Jaemin's egg and bacon sandwich. He feels his mouth start to water watching his friend chew away happily.
In Mark’s defence, that sandwich would also look way yummier to any other eight-year-old holding a tuna coleslaw sandwich.
Jaemin catches Mark’s more-than-eager stare, pausing mid chew and pulling his sandwich closer to his chest possessively. Mark’s pout etches itself a little deeper across his puerile features as he sulkily bites into his tuna coleslaw sandwich.
“Ugh, fine,” Mark perks up as Jaemin's red Nike Air Forces step into view, “Here,” he holds his sandwich out to Mark, nodding for him to take a bite.
Never before had one seen a little boy light up with such joy, as Mark smiles widely, revealing two gaps from the two milk teeth that fell out a couple weeks prior. He gratefully takes a bite – not too big a bite though; he wouldn’t have liked it if Jaemin ate a third of his own egg and bacon sandwich in one fell swoop, so he wouldn’t do that to Jaemin either.
“Dankoo daemin,” he beams with two cheeks full of the delectable sandwich, crumbs decorating the corners of his more than satisfied smile. Renjun giggles looking at Mark’s ridiculous face, poking his puffed-out cheek. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Jaemin dismisses, bowing his head to smile widely in hopes nobody sees it. Both Mark and Renjun see it.
A thought suddenly pops into Mark’s head. “You guys didn’t answer my question," he points out.
“What question?” Renjun asks, eyes wide and sparkling as a small breeze flicks up a lock of his dark brown hair. Mark huffs at the sincerity written on Renjun’s face, repeating, “Do you have a favourite colour?”
“I don’t know what colours look like," Jaemin chimes in, scoffing down the last of his lunch, “I haven’t met my soulmate yet.”
“Me too,” Says Renjun, indifferently. “But I don’t care. Girls have cooties-”
“-my favourite colour is blue,” Mark ignores them, interjecting his own statement, hellbent on boasting the little fact. His two friends turn their heads toward him simultaneously.
“You can see colours?” Renjun asks, somehow more invested now that his friend could apparently see the world through a different lens.
“Yep,” Mark grins ear to ear, proudly tilting his chin to the air.
In all honesty, Mark can't see colours. His world is just as boring and dull as Jaemin and Renjun’s probably is, or maybe even more. This little boy just wants a little attention to himself, a juvenile selfishness instilled in almost any child of his age. Telling a little white lie couldn’t hurt, right?
Wrong.
“Liar,” Mark’s head whips around to see Jax, the boy nobody dared mess with in third grade, walking around to the little bench and standing tall in front of Mark’s small frame. He already had his illumination, and that made him all the more intimidating.
Though Jax only speaks the truth, Mark doesn’t back down, his immature little pouch of pride willing him to argue back, smile dropping into a furrowed expression as he yells. “I’m not lying!”
“Prove it then,” Jax says. “Show me what…” he looks around, eyes lighting up when they land on Mark’s tattoo. “Tell us what colour your mark is.”
Mark’s eyes follow Jax’s gaze to his very grey, very colourless tattoo; Bubble.
He hesitates, trying to logically solve the colour.
Bubbles are made from water and soap; water is blue...but soap is pink…that doesn't many any sense!
Suddenly aware of his slouching posture, Mark straightens his back and stands up, feigning confidence. The top of his head only reaches Jax’s mouth, so he lifts his chin a little higher.
“That’s easy, it’s blue,” he speaks, hoping he comes across more confident that sceptic. He went with blue since there’s more water than soap in bubble mixture; it makes sense so it simply had to be blue.
Blue is the colour of the sea and the sky. Blue is also Mark’s favourite colour. There were simply too many blue things in the world for the tattoo on his arm not to be blue.
⋆⋆⋆
Needless to say Mark's tattoo wasn't blue.
He became the third grade’s laughingstock, earning an earful of malicious laughter and teasing for upwards of two weeks. He’s never been able to let the incident go ever since.
Orange, it was orange. Not blue.
Orange.
He should’ve known, given its lighter grey complexion compared to Jaemin and Renjun’s tattoos, and he’d be damned if he ever forgot it.
Bubble
Right now, sitting in his room, on his bed with his hands so close to ripping out his head of bed hair, Mark wishes nothing more than to erase this word from existence.
“Shit.” He curses, hastily reading over the words on his laptop again and again.
Illumination: Required
Illumination: Required
Illumination: Required
“Ah, fuck," he throws his head down into his hands.
How did this happen?
How did he miss this after reading through the application requirements at least thirty times over? How did he miss it the dozen times he read through it before he sent the application? How did he miss it the dozen times he read through it after he sent the application?
Of course, he didn’t do it intentionally…he just missed it.
But how?
Mark looks up at his laptop once again, ripping his glasses off and blinking his eyes shut for ten seconds, willing for this nightmare to end once he opened them back up.
Illumination: Required
It's still there.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he drawls out tossing the glasses somewhere across the room, running his hands down his face and rubbing his eyes as he falls back against his unmade duvet. “Fuck you,” he mumbles into his palms, not in the correct frame of mind to distinguish who or what exactly it was directed at…probably the six-letter death wish on his arm.
There goes his shot at landing NCC’s undergrad medical program, blowing up right before his eyes.
He had sent in his application almost two weeks ago, confident and ready as he’d ever be.He’d worked for this. He worked hard for this.
Though he hadn’t cared much for his studies as a child, Mark had grown to be a naturally bright young man; some might have called him gifted. That being said, he didn’t boast his natural smarts, and he didn’t rely solely on them too. He put in extra efforts in high school to get himself where he is now. All he had to do was nail the interview, and the world would be his stage.
Mark groans.
So much for that.
He smacks the tattoo on his left arm in anger. It was all because of this. No way in hell is he getting an acceptance email-
The shrill ring of Mark’s phone from his desk startles him back to a seated position on his bed. He sighs and sullenly trudges his way to pick it up, glancing briefly at the caller ID.
God, I really need to lower my ringer.
Displayed is some unknown number, but still within the country given the dial code. He picks up the call and holds the phone to his ear, waiting for a voice to speak up over the line; he’s heard far too many horror stories about scammers that can track voices, vouching never to speak up first on calls with strangers.
“Hello? Is this Mr Mark Lee?”
He perks up at the almost robotic female voice that speaks on the other side, clearing his throat silently.
“Yes, it is. Speaking?” he cautiously answers.
“This is Tiffany Young from the Neo Central College admissions board.”
Mark’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, suddenly feeling his heart rate pick up in his chest.
“Oh? O-oh, yes, ma’am!” he stutters, catching himself by the tongue before he blurts out anything stupid that could work against him. Grip on his phone faltering for a second, his second hand comes up to support it against his ear, not trusting himself.
Get it together, Mark.
He decides that sitting down in his chair would probably be the best way to get it together.
The lady – Ms Young – speaks up again. “I’m calling in regard to your college application for NCC’s medical program.” She pauses, expecting Mark to reply, though it takes him a moment to catch on.
“Oh...oh! Yes!” he squeezes his eyes shut, knocking his knuckles three times on the side of his head, face contorting into one of embarrassment and annoyance at himself and his atypically sputtering demeanour.
What the hell is happening?
“It was a privilege to read. You seem to be a promising student, Mr Lee.”
Mark covers his mouth to suppress what felt like a squeal as he felt it slowly rising up his throat. “Thank you, Ms Young.”
“You’re most welcome. You may know it is not typical that we call our applicants directly…” Oh no, he feels it coming. “…I understand you have not had your illumination as of yet.”
Mark gulps, feeling a shallow pit open in his chest, all the nerves shooting right out of his dispirited heart in anticipation. “Yes, ma’am,” speaks his timid voice, void of all the confidence it held not even a week ago.
“I hope you are aware an illumination is one of the requirements for this course. This was made explicitly clear in the requirements form issued prior to application submissions.”
Mark nods, more to himself than anyone else, repeating, “Yes ma’am," and though he can probably come up with at least a dozen convincing excuses as to why he still applied, he knows better than to rub salt in a wound, instead opting to hang his head low as he holds the phone to his ear and accept what the woman has to say.
He hears Tiffany sigh over the phone, feeling even worse for being such an oblivious fool. “Given your exemplary performance in school, along with your application, the admissions board has decided to overlook the mishap and offer you an interview opportunity.”
What, what?
Thank goodness Mark hadn’t decided to quench his parched throat with the water on his nightstand, because it would’ve splurged right at the phone instead. “HUH?” he blurts out, hand slapping over his mouth in embarrassment as soon as the word leaves his lips. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I-I don’t understand.” His eyebrows furrow as he pushes his ear into the screen of his phone.
How are they allowing this when they're aware he can’t see in colour? Isn’t that against the regulations?
“Congratulations, Mr Lee, Neo Central College has accepted your application, and would be pleased to meet you for an interview.”
Mark blinks, wide-eyed and dazed.
“I’ll take my leave now.”
He snaps out of it, almost shouting, “Yes! Thank-thank you, ma’am. Thank you so much!”
The line cuts, leaving a very stunned, very confused Mark Lee sitting at his desk, his hands once more rising to his hair; but this time to tug at his roots in shock.
“Holy mother of-“
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“God, what am I doing,” you mutter to yourself quietly, hands fidgeting in your lap as you sit in the passenger seat of your mum’s car – more specifically her navy car…but you wouldn’t know either way since; You. Can’t. See. Colour.
You scoff at the thought.
It would be an understatement to say that today hasn’t been your day so far. In fact, today you didn’t just wake up on the wrong side of the bed – with about only 6 hours of sleep, by the way – but you woke up with a splitting headache AND an unusually bitter taste in your mouth.
Not pleasant in the least.
Still, you’ve learnt to take everything in this life with a grain of salt.
Besides, you’ve known no headache a dose of Nurofen couldn’t fix.
Maybe this was the universe’s way of saying a big FUCK YOU for applying to something you really shouldn’t have even considered applying to in the first place, given your circumstances.
But you’ve never been one to back down in the face of the universe and it’s wrath. Instead, you simply opted for sending both your middle fingers right up its big egotistical assho-
You’re startled out of your thoughts by your mother’s palm slamming down on the car horn, your body sent lurching forward – though saved by the oh-holy contraption called a seatbelt – as she rams her foot down on the break. Her hand hovers over your torso in protection as she quietly curses the reckless driver responsible for the ordeal.
You sit there still with your own hand pressed to your heart, breathing heavily in shock of what almost unfolded.
Yep, that’s a definite fuck you from the universe, alright.
“Darling, are you okay?” Your mother lets out a deep breath of her own, starting to drive again once she deems it safe enough.
“Peachy.” You reply anxiously, looking down at the dark folder in your lap, your heart rate refusing to slow down.
Despite knowing the potential consequence of you applying to NCC’s acclaimed medical course, your parents have both supported you from the beginning, having a similar take as Winwin to the whole situation, and rather encouraging you more than anything else to give it a shot since you never know what the world has in store for you when you least expect it.
By this point you think you’re more than acquainted with the world’s intentions for you, especially when you least expect it.
But…maybe there’s some truth in the matter. After all, you are on your way to the interview you thought you wouldn’t be accepted for. It’s a miracle how your non-existent illumination went unnoticed and unquestioned…as of yet.
Soon enough, you spot the familiar evergreen trees whose arrangement never fails to stun you stupid every time you’ve driven past them. However, this time you’re not driving past, but driving right down the road which they sway idly above, casting their shadow over your giddy features as you watch them wave their hearty hellos to you. Just beyond the trees you spot the student accommodation building, a proud array of grey and black tones visible through the branches which you could only assume look exquisitely colourful to those who can appreciate it.
When you catch a glimpse of the main NCC campus, you’re more awestruck than you’ve ever been. You spot a large, elegant water fountain at the entrance – spraying water at least five full metres high in precise routine – and you want nothing more than to jump head-first into the extravagant display. Behind the fountain is a long, angled row of steps – about ten from what you can see through the window – adorned by at least fifty people at a time walking up and down, most likely either on their way to, or back from their own interviews.
The stairs lead up to the tall, wide and dare you say, fashionable, looking main building with the big bold letters NCC built near the top. It was modern in every sense of the word; ever the classy and chic architecture with its tall, reflective glass windows and smooth, lightly coloured exterior. Ornamental pillars extend from the roof, meeting the walls midway to the ground.
It’s fabulous, to say the least.
You can only imagine what the interior of the building would look like.
Too busy staring at the architectural masterpiece, you don’t realise your mother has parked the car until she gently grabs your hand from your lap.
You turn to her with a nervous smile and nod, noticing the way her eyes tear up.
“Go kiss your frog, princess,” she smiles.
You burst out laughing at her unexpected dialogue. “What? Kiss my frog?” you ask in amusement between giggles, wiping at your mother’s cheek with a soft thumb.
She kisses your forehead. “Don’t be nervous, be frank and confident. You’re going to do amazingly.”
“Yes mum,” you nod, hearing those exact words for at least the sixth time today, “I will.” You click your seatbelt off, gripping the folder tightly before opening the car door and stepping out into the cool air while shrugging on your jacket.
“And Y/n,” you hear her call out, leaning over the passenger seat to see you better as you stand in front of the bright sun. You turn back around, waiting for her to continue, “Do smile, dear.”
That makes you crack a genuine, wide smile towards her, leaning back inside to peck her cheek. “Got it. Thanks, mum.”
Closing the door, you look down at your somewhat crumpled skirt from sitting in the car. With a tsk, you pat away the creases and tug it down slightly, before taking a deep breath and marching confidently to the entrance of Neo Central College.
“Winwin’s interview should be happening right about now,” you muse aloud, sending him blessings while you did. You decided to arrive an hour early in hopes to catch him before you went in yourself; seeing him would give you the energy boost you know you need.
In the meantime, you decide to simply stand around and stare.
At the fountain, at the building, at the people, at EVERYTHING.
Walking up the stairs along with the bustling crowd of young adults – your steps a little slower than others’ in your dazed reverie – you feel a certain comfort.
The ambience, the aura…it’s enticing.
Reaching the top step, you find your head dropping all the way back as you squint up towards the NCC logo previously seen from your car – not caring for the numerous stares and shoulder bumps you were receiving as a result of planting yourself smack in the middle of the busy walkway.
Suffice to say that everything was a lot bigger and taller now that you were standing right in front of it all.
Daunting, now that you really think about it.
You release a shaky breath and close your eyes, mind wandering to the one image you’ve dreamed of far too many times.
There you are, looking a smidge more mature than you are now, dressed in a black, mid-sleeved robe with a dark velvet sash resting around your shoulders. Although you can’t picture it, you know the sash is green; the representative colour for Medicine graduates…Neo Champagne Green.
A black square hat rests on your head with a tassel dangling off the right. Winwin stands to your left smiling at you as you smile right back, both holding your bachelor’s degrees wrapped in a ribbon that still looks pretty despite its grey colour.
A smile subconsciously stretches across your face at the pleasant scenario, eyes kept closed just to hold onto it for a little longer…just a little longer.
They’re gonna find out, I’m not gonna be accepted anyway.
Just as the thought manifests in your brain, you feel a sudden stab on your foot, face contorting in pain as a yelp leaves your mouth, stance faltering in your block sandals.
“Sorry.” Yells a distant voice, but you’re far too distracted to notice.
Your arms flail around, reaching out and grabbing the nearest stranger in attempt to balance yourself properly on your feet. As you feel the person’s hand quickly move to catch your back your eyes fly open.
You gasp.
To the third person, the scene would look like an awkward mishap they didn’t ever want to be involved in; you harshly gripping a random man’s forearm and staring dumbfoundedly as if he’s the one trying to make an advance…all this, for some peculiar reason, happening in the middle of a busy university entrance.
But you're seeing something VERY different.
Your eyes widen as you watch the stranger, a ripple making its way down his annoyed features, leaving behind an outrageously extravagant splash of…something all through his face.
This time both your mouth and eyebrows drop down together.
The man is young and handsome, but that’s all you’re able to discern as your head whips up to look at the sky behind his face. You gasp again, stumbling back a few steps as your hand lets go of his arm, flying up to cover your mouth instead.
It’s then that you notice your blurry thumb in your periphery, your eyes crossing down to stare at it against your cupid’s boy, head tilting in shock. You scramble to tuck your folder underneath your arm, before ripping your hands away and holding them in front of your face with your fingers spread wide, turning them back and forth in alarmed examination.
At this point, the pain in your foot is all but non-existent.
You spin around left and right on the spot, eyes landing on whatever and whoever coming into view.
Everyone – everything – looks like it has been dipped in…in…
Life.
You suddenly tug the left sleeve of your jacket up to your tricep, looking down at the marking on the inside of your elbow…now looking not-so-grey.
That’s when you realise;
HOLY FUCK, IS THIS MY ILLUMINATION!?!?
You pull down the sleeve and immediately turn around to apologise to the stranger from before – somehow expecting him to still be standing there, ready to listen to your impending coming-of-age dramatic monologue.
But he’s nowhere to be found.
“Y/n!” Hyperaware of your senses now, you abruptly turn back again towards the direction of the college building, looking for the owner of the voice while squinting as tall glass reflects the sun in your eyes. You see a familiar lean body wearing a formal jumper and black pants.
As he approaches you immediately recognise who it is.
“Winwin?” you ask, still squinting as he comes to a halt right in front of you.
“That’s the name,” he chuckles.
You look up at his face, your own features tensed as ever as your eyes travel around each contour glowing underneath the sun above; starting from his chin, to his lips and nose, his cheeks, ears, eyes, forehead, hair, and back down again.
So this is what a human really looks like
Finally, you look down at his very colourful hands clutching a single-coloured – though you can’t tell which colour – folder just like the one resting in your own very colourful hands, and you're immediately reminded of why you’re both here in the first place.
“Oh, right,” you shake your head subtly, blinking to yourself, before looking up at him again. “How was the interview?” You strew together a confused looking smile, eyebrows still subconsciously furrowed from the preceding epiphany.
Winwin turns his chin slightly to the side, eyes narrowing in on you. “The interview was fine…but are you?” He pushes his head forward with raised eyebrows in question, worriedly watching the distracted way your eyes travel across his arms as if there’s a snake wrapped around them. “Hey!” He snaps his thumb in front of you twice, watching amused as you’re dramatically startled back to reality. “What‘s wrong?”
Should I tell him?
I mean, the guy just came back from his interview, I probably shouldn’t tell hi-
“Ihadmyillumination,” you blurt out, looking Winwin dead in the eye to gauge his reaction, still unsure whether to categorise the happening as good or bad.
“WHAT?” he blurts back, earning a few glances from the endless hoard of passers-by. You huff looking around timidly as if you hadn’t just created an even bigger scene less than four minutes ago, speaking in a hushed tone. “I said, I had my-“
“I know, I heard you the first time,” he waves his hand in dismissal, grabbing you by both shoulders with a wide angelic smile, “Y/n, that’s great! When did it happen?”
Your stare ahead at his wide smile, pearly looking teeth on display.
Those are definitely white
“Just now,” you utter trying to get used to this big bang in your life called colour.
“Now?” he questions, to which you nod in response. “Who’s the soulmate then?”
You simply stand there, blinking blankly, no expression whatsoever on your face.
Oh, shiitake mushrooms.
“Y/n,” Winwin speaks, a warning tone lilting at the end of his voice, “You do know who it was…right?”
You hesitate, clearing your throat and forcing a very fake sweet smile. “Well, there’s so many people here, I couldn’t have possibly-“
“God dammit,” he huffs, interrupting your futile justification, your smile dropping as you watch his thumb and pointer finger rub circles into his temples. He stands straight again. “Is there no one…absolutely ANYONE, that you saw or, like, touched, directly?” fe flattens a hand and slices it through the air, illustrating his point of directly.
You think back to what happened, replaying each significant action in your head.
Well, someone stepped on my foot, then I almost fell and grabbed a stranger’s arm and-
You mind pauses, hooked onto something.
The stranger…You think.
THE STRANGER!
He must be the one!
“Oh, OH! Th-there wa-there was a stranger!” You point a finger forward at your eureka moment, eyes expanding as you flick your neck to look over at Winwin in wonder.
He’s unamused to say the least, not an ounce of excitement at your words. He blinks once at you, before stretching a sarcastic smile across his face. “If I could turn this whole place into the facepalm meme right now, I would,” he gripes, shaking his head with a twirl of his finger at the mention of whole.
“Well, he is a stranger, I don’t know who he is…All I know is that he was headed inside the gates,” Yyu visibly deflate, nodding your chin over Winwin’s shoulder toward the entrance gate of the college, earning a sigh from the man as he turns his head in the same direction.
He turns back to you. “Well, you better damn hope he gets accepted at NCC if you ever wanna see him again.”
“Well, I better damn hope I get accepted first,” you chuckle dryly.
“Oh right, shit, you have your interview soon.” He glances down at the smartwatch on his wrist, mumbling an off-hand “Thirty-five minutes to go.”
Wait, he thinks to himself.
Realisation suddenly strikes his features as he has a thought, face slowly rising to meet yours with a stunned expression. “Y/n.”
“What?” you reply anxiously, hands beginning to clutch tightly at the corners of your folder pressed a little too harshly into your torso, anticipating the impending hour ahead of you. You watch as Winwin awkwardly digs through his back pocket, fishing out his phone and typing something, all while a sly smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He no sooner shoves the screen so close to your face, you’d have to lean back to see what’s displayed.
“What colours are on this dipstick bottle?”
You stand confused at his sudden question, until you fully look at the image in front of you. “I see…white and black…and grey…” you glance at Winwin, unsure. He stands there with a cheeky smirk.
You flick your gaze back to the screen, focusing hard.
And suddenly it hits you.
Like a goddamn truck.
Eyes widening for what might as well have been the seventh time that day, your smile grows as you continue, “…and there’s also a bunch of other colours that I can’t describe but can definitely see!” The pitch of your voice gets higher and higher as you speak, before breaking out into a squeal that you have no choice but to cover with both hands, staring up excitedly at Winwin.
It fully sinks in.
Colour…I CAN FUCKING SEE COLOURS!
And if I can see colour, that means…
Your whole face sparkles up in joy at the thought, a firecracker burning up inside you as you throw your arms around Winwin’s neck and hug him tightly, almost knocking him over in the process.
He chuckles into your shoulder, just as happy as you.
“Welcome to NCC, Y/n Y/l/n.”
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It has been the better part of three hours since the flight Mark and his mother had taken landed in town, and he’s already jogging up the familiar wide steps two-at-a-time on his way to the main NCC campus reception. He decides against wasting any time or logic in admiring the architectural mastery of the place, having already done that a couple weeks ago. He’d barely made it on time back then despite arriving an hour early, too distracted by the magnificent setting.
Not this time, he inwardly tells himself, long strides carrying him straight inside the building to greet the same lady at the front desk from weeks before, though it’s clear she doesn’t remember him when she asks his name while donning an oblivious expression.
Poor facial recognition probably comes with the job.
“Uhhh, Mark Lee,” he looks around cautiously, making sure to lower his voice in case any curious ears prick in on his words. “I have a special provisions application.”
The lady nods, muttering something about expecting a special provisions applicant at this time today. She stands, leading Mark down a few plain corridors before stopping behind a large wooden door.
On it a shiny panel reads, Executive Professor and Dean of Medicine, Soo-man Lee
Same last name. Huh, Mark muses in his head.
“The Dean will be with you in a moment.”
Mark nods, thanking the lady as she retreats back down the corridors.
Today, Mark assumes, is one of the busiest interviewing days for next year’s NCC applicants – according to the number students he’d seen entering and exiting the building alongside him earlier.
But the truth is, he’s not here today for his own interview – he’s already had that; as a special provisions student, the panel requested an earlier interview for him than regular applicants.
The reason he’s here right now…well he has no clue why he’s here.
A week prior, when he thought he’d be expecting an acceptance letter, he’d instead received a call-back request for further consultation…whatever the hell that meant.
So now as Mark sits here waiting for that further consultation, faced with the reality of the Dean’s office door right in front of him, all he can feel are the cold jitters and nerves coursing down his spine as he makes it his mission to envision every the worst-case scenario that comes to mind.
On top of that, the cold air from the air conditioner does little to alleviate his heightened state.
Upon hearing the dampened sound of footsteps in his periphery, Mark looks up. A tall, slender male figure holding a lightish folder approaches from the right side of the hallway – the same hallway Mark had been led down. The man wears a formal looking jumper and what Mark can only assume are black slacks, given their seemingly dark tone. He looks to be from some East Asian country – perhaps he’s Chinese – and seems young, probably around the same age as Mark, maybe a year or two younger.
No wait, that’s impossible…unless he’s a prodigy or something, Mark thinks to himself with a small shake of his head.
As he walks closer, Mark decides the chap to be decently good-looking, dare he say, handsome; delicate-looking features and hair styled in parted curtains, and though he does look a little on the feminine side, it suits him.
He looks distracted, taking deep breaths as he quietly mutters indiscernible sentences to himself, glancing at the ceiling every once in a while. If he notices Mark staring at him, he doesn’t acknowledge it until he’s walking right in front of Mark’s seated figure; briefly making eye-contact, forcing a polite smile with a small nod of his head, and then walking right by.
Must have an interview, Mark assumes, watching the guy retreat around a corner, wishing him well out of goodwill.
No sooner does the office door in front of Mark open, startling him as an average heighted man – likely in his mid-sixties – steps out. He’s dressed head to toe in formal attire, shoes polished shiny and glasses resting low on the bridge of his pointy nose. Mark recognises him as one of the panel board members that interviewed him weeks prior.
Wait the Dean was there that day?
“Mr Lee, please come in.”
“Yes, sir,” Mark immediately stands up, politely walking into the Dean’s office as the door is held open for him and shut quietly once he steps inside.
“Please, take a seat,” the man gestures amicably to a black leather couch situated in front of a large, polished oak desk with neat piles of folders, papers and such stacked near the edge. A huge bookshelf, as tall as the ceiling, spans across the left wall of the office, filled from top to bottom with books of an array of grey and black tones. A strong scent of weathered paper and musk fills the air, accentuating the modern woody room.
This room is very different to the room the interview was held in.
A little intimidating, to put in simple words.
The Dean sits down in the large leather seat across from Mark’s tense form, clasping his hands upon the desk in front of him. “I’d like to start by commending you on your application to NCC, Mark. You don’t mind if I call you Mark, do you?”
Mark shakes his head a little too vigorously than he’d have liked. “No, sir, not at all. A-and thank you. It’s an honour to be considered at all," he gestures his hands in a way he can’t quite understand himself, eventually deciding on pulling them into his lap before he ends up knocking the water jug off the coffee table in front of him.
The Dean beams a small smile – the kind you’d expect him to pull when getting his picture taken – and nods along with the boy’s enthusiasm. “I expect you’re confused why you received a call-back letter?”
Not so much confused as scared.
“A little, I’m afraid," Mark replies cautiously, voice catching in his throat, which he immediately clears. But as he sits there, he acquires an inkling of why he may be here...why he didn’t receive the acceptance letter he’d hoped to receive.
He mentally face-palms himself at not having picked up on it earlier before walking inside.
“A few things need to be discussed,” Professor Lee pauses, getting straight to the point, “I understand you haven’t experienced your illumination as of yet.”
Mark blinks, swiftly but hesitantly replying, “Yes, sir.”
“I hope you understand, that as a medical student you would be required to have colour-sensitive vision,” the professor eyes him through the top of his spectacles, earning a nod from Mark and another quiet “Yes, sir.”
“You may already know that the first year of your chosen course consists mainly of revision of previously acquired knowledge; biological and chemical concepts taught within high school." While speaking, the Dean unclasps his hands, somehow acting as a visual indicator for Mark to relax slightly from his tense posture. "From what I gather, you’ve maintained an exceptionally high GPA over the past few years, as such posing little foreseeable concerns regarding your first year – if accepted – at Neo Central College.”
Nodding thoughtfully in response, Mark purses his lips to suppress the smile that tries to form on his lips; he can’t help but feel a sort of pride swell in the depths of his chest at the praise.
The Dean continues, “With all this considered, after major discussion among the admissions board as well as myself,” he holds a hand to his chest, “and, in conjunction with your interview,” a small smile appears on his face at his next words, “we have reached a consensus that it would truly be a shame to turn away a promising student such as yourself from Neo Central College.”
Mark’s head visibly perks up, now allowing his small but confused smile to show.
“Mr Lee, I would like to accept you into our undergraduate medical program.”
Marks eyes widen at the same time his mouth drops open, blinking a couple times before realising how rude he must currently appear in front of such an important figure.
With all the world’s metaphorical slaps hitting his reddening cheeks, Mark instead opts to fix his posture and sport a relieved – but poised and hopefully professional-looking – smile on his face.
“However, this course is offered to you on one condition.”
Now his smile falters as the room is engulfed by a heavy layer of air. The Dean stares at him with a serious expression, causing Mark to subconsciously gulp, nerves crashing in again at full swing as if they never left in the first place.
He anxiously sucks in a deep inaudible breath as the Dean further explains, “You must undergo illumination by the end of your first year, otherwise…” he removes his spectacles with a single hand, holding them out to one side, “…I’m afraid you will have to discontinue the course. And while, I understand the matter is out of your direct control, this is a measure which must be taken and clarified from the beginning. Do you think this is feasible for you?”
Illumination.
Mark has always been inclined to brush that word off for another day…another time…another place…maybe even another life. But now he realises that muttering an off-hand fuck that and going about the rest of his day is not – no, cannot – be the solution.
Not if he’s going to pass up a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity like this, at least.
Which he’s not.
It takes Mark no longer than three seconds to outtalk the little voice in his head telling him that what he’s about to agree to could quite potentially be impossible.
It’s not impossible. I can do it.
With a determined nod of his head – more to himself than anyone else – and a solemn look glazing over his tensed features, Mark looks up, fierceness present as ever in his eyes.
“Professor Lee, I would be honoured to take up this opportunity,” he nods his head again, this time more firmly, feeling even more determined than ever.
This is his life that he’s setting himself up for; medicine is his dream, being a doctor is his aspiration. He wants to help the world, heal the world. This course is his one-way ticket to getting everything he’s ever wanted. Of course, he knows it only gets harder once he gets in, but he’s always been ready to put in the hard work; always ready to put in extra effort when required.
If having his illumination was the extra work he needed put in to reach his goal, so be it.
It’s now or never.
“Your acceptance under such provision in an extreme anomaly for Neo Central College, Mark. Once you agree to these terms, they mustn’t be taken lightly.”
I mustn’t take this lightly.
“Yes sir, this will not be taken lightly," Mark says with a tight shake of his head, watching as the Dean stands up and taking it as a cue to stand up himself. “Thank you very much for this opportunity.”
The Dean smiles, walking around his table and extending out his hand for Mark to shake.
“Neo Central College is glad to welcome you, Mr Lee.”
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Mark doesn’t know when or how he finds himself back where he was before his meeting with the Dean, but here he is, sitting in the chair outside the very office in which he just sealed his future; elbows digging into the top of his kneecaps, eyebrows furrowed, hair a little dishevelled now that his fingers have scooped through them once, twice, maybe even eight times.
I’m in?
His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he sucks in a sharp breath of air through his teeth, eyebrows furrowed while tilting his chin to the right in thought.
He abruptly stands up.
BLOODY HELL, I’M IN!
Before he can stop himself, he jumps up in the air in excitement, pumping a fist high enough it could’ve punched right through the roof, before realising what he’s just done and clearing his throat.
He cranes his neck left and right in appraisal of any audience, letting out a relieved sigh seeing the hallway is empty.
With a giddy smile and a little skip in his every other step, Mark makes his way back down the halls, through the reception and straight out to the front gates of NCC where the sun shines bright, and the world stands anew.
Looking out at the crowded entrance steps bustling with students in every which direction, Mark feels like a changed man, pleased at the thought he’d be walking up and down those very steps almost every day the next year.
I’m unstoppable!
“Mark!” He hears a familiar voice yell beyond the throng of students, standing on his toes with cinched eyes to spot his mother waving at him.
Her smile is so sweet and fond; it powers Mark with a certain surge of energy as he waves back, smiling just as wide, before springing forward on his feet in excitement to tell her the news. He sees her expression turn into one of surprise watching her son run towards her.
Mark’s smile only grows, twisting, turning and dodging past the walking bodies – probably accidentally nudging a few of them here and there, but frankly he’s oblivious.
He knows his mother is going be the most proud, having always been his number one supporter; the thought itself makes a garden of happiness bloom around his heart.
However, in this state of oblivion, Mark accidentally steps on a foot among the crown before he can help it, hearing a small yelp while muttering an “Oh, shit,” as he feels his own ankle twist upon contact. He stumbles forward yelling back a “Sorry” as he catches himself on his toes, heartbeat thrumming in his chest upon the almost-occurrence of him tumbling down the steps…and potentially taking down at least 10 other people with him.
He stands there for a moment, body slightly hunched, hands resting on his knees as he breathes heavily facing toward the ground.
Then he starts to notice something – almost like a crease or wave of sorts – ruffling across the floor as if it were a wave crashing on the seashore.
It leaves the concrete looking a little more…grey.
With furrowing eyebrows, Mark double takes his gaze to something that glints from a couple meters away in the corner of his eye, his once heavy breaths hitching in his throat.
A shoe buckle…but it’s not grey or black or white.
It’s…it’s…
Mark doesn’t know what it is.
Tilting his head to the side, his eyes – now growing increasingly wide by the second – follow the black shoe upon which the buckle rests, turning his body as the owner of the shoe steps by.
What?
Mark raises his head in confusion, suddenly jumping on the spot when he’s met with a hoard of all sorts of different pigments in every which angle. He snaps his neck left, right, back and front, looking around as if all the people walking past him have turned into ghosts floating by.
It’s everywhere.
Well, it isn't exactly one thing, it is many things; repeatedly present along shirts, pants, shoes, jackets, hair, faces, even cars!
I must be dreaming…
Mark closes his eyes for a second, tipping his head back towards the sky while mentally instructing himself to take a few deep, calming breaths.
In…and out.
And in…and out.
He opens his eyes.
“AH, what the fuck?” He gasps in horror, arms raising up to his sides as he jumps again in reflex, almost falling onto his back as he’s startled by the very different tone present all throughout the sky.
“It’s not grey,” he wonders aloud, moving his eyes all around the brightness above.
He freezes.
Wait…
...then…
Is it blue?
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Blue → It's Complicated
[another] Author's Note: AHHHHHHHH hope I didn't put you to sleep lmaoooo. Anyways, that's Part 1 of Illumination and practically where the real story between Mark and Y/n will start off from in future chapters. I plan to drag this series out for at least a few more longer chapters, so please stay excited and look forward to it :D I've also decided to start a taglist for Illumination, so if anyone's interested, please don't hesitate to request here and I'll be more than happy to add you :))))
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© jaetaimjadore, 2021, all rights reserved
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keycrash · 2 years
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Ooh me next!! How do you slay so much with your typography?? That legit looks like sorcery to me, what's the process for that like?
oh man learning this stuff was haaaard. i'm still not an expert! i did take a class specifically geared towards it though, so i'll pass on some of the exercises we did and tips i learned, but i am by no means an experienced hand letterer lol
-oh first off, and this is funny, people get mad when you mix up typography with calligraphy with hand lettering. SO, just to be clear: typography uses premade fonts, where the letters are all already created, and lays them out in a pleasing way. (you can modify those fonts and all, but the point is that a whole "alphabet" already exists, sort of.) calligraphy is Fancy Handwriting, for the most part-- typically like, you have one go at it. (i think it overlaps with hand lettering a bit.) hand lettering is like illustrating using letters. you draw or render each individual letter to fit in the space it's meant for, whether that be a logo or an inspirational quote or what. a "font" of it doesn't really exist; it exists only within its specific context.
- one of our semester-long exercises was to fill a sketchbook with different styles of lettering. each page was 1 letter, and you had to draw it in as many different styles as possible. this exposed me to a lot of different techniques for lettering; i crawled through pinterest for vintage package design, i looked at obscure decorative fonts, i took special notice of book covers and logos i saw out in public. start NOTICING lettering. is it serif or sans serif? are the crossbars high, low, in the middle? do you LIKE the lettering or does it feel off to you? what would you change? do the letters feel too close together, or correctly spaced?
- learn the parts of letters! counters, terminals, crossbars, et cetera. this helps you give an actual structure to start noticing it out in the world. you can start thinking, "oh, fonts with very high/low crossbars evoke a 1920s aesthetic," for example
- study old lettering and try out the tools used to create those letters. we started with roman caps and a chisel marker. there are tutorials that will show you the exact angles and shapes involved. print out sheets that include guidelines. trace them, get the angles right, try them without tracing.
- we also tried blackletter with a chisel pen. again, there are tutorials online and templates to trace. trace them, notice patterns, notice how to hold your wrist. look up old drop caps for inspiration on how to decorate your letters, especially for blackletter. (blackletter is muuuch better as a title font-- how come? can you think about readability? what makes a font easier to read quicker, and what makes a font more impressive for a title?)
- kerning! read up about kerning. this is the space between letters, and many people have explained it much better than me. your computer's automatic kerning is sometimes a mess; the space needed between letters changes completely depending on the shapes of the letters, and it requires practice. here's a game that helps you build an intuition for it: https://type.method.ac
- next we did copperplate with a brush pen, and later a dip pen. copperplate is a style of cursive and one of my favorites to do. the main point of copperplate is to 1. keep a consistent angle, around 15 degrees, and 2. let your tool get thinner as you go up, and thicker as you go down. if you didn't learn cursive in school-- time to learn! learning the basics and traditional lettering helps inform when you make more modern or unique lettering choices.
- (on that note-- when looking up lettering resources be careful, because a lot is the... pinterest etsy mom style super bouncy cursive. that's not inherently bad, but it comes with it, for some reason, a lot of people offering guides/courses/tutorials in it that don't take into account really important parts of lettering like readability, kerning, et cetera)
- READABILITY IS ALWAYS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! squint at your work. if it becomes super hard to read or you start mixing up letters for other letters, consider changing them or making them more clear.
- look up and follow lettering artists!! my favorite is carmi grau, but for your sake, here's a full list that my professor provided of ones she likes:
- seb lester; jessica hische; dana tanamachi; michael deforge; stefan kunz; tara leigh johnston; martina flor; mike perry; jill dehaan; andrea pippins; jon contino; tobias saul; ian barnard; marykate mcdevitt; joshua noom; becca clason; jen mussari; gemma o'brien; lauren hom; ian jepson
- also my professor's name is lisa perrin and she's a super good hand letterer so check out her stuff!
- anyway. once you have some basics down, you can start studying decoration; how do people decorate their letters? how do they do flourishes? how do they incorporate it into their illustration? how do they decorate the insides of letters?
- studying cursive styles is very good for learning flourishes, the loopy, dramatic, flowery lines people use, especially to, for example, cross their Ts or finish off the bottoms of their Ys. they're usually oval-based and can be a bit hard to get the hang of so practice a lot!
- meanwhile i think western/circus style lettering is good for looking at how people decorate the insides of letters! drop caps also do a good job of this
- USE GUIDELINES! USE GUIDELINES! USE GUIDELINES! if you see a piece of hand lettering art you like, THINK about what shapes they would've used underneath it to guide their letters, almost like how a sketch guides drawn artwork. does their text fit into an arc? does it fit into a circle, or a wave? trace over some hand lettering art you like to draw those guidelines over top. make guidelines of your own to test out different compositions for lettering
- finally, look at TONS of different styles. look at 20s, look at 30s, look at 80s, all different eras. look at how posters have historically used lettering. look at graphic design lettering rather than just hand lettering. look at what ancient monks wrote by hand and look at wine logos and look at arabic calligraphy and look at chinese calligraphy and look at typography geared towards kids looks like. what makes a font feel more "scary"? what makes a font feel more "friendly"? what about "modern," "refined," "rough," "sweet," "dangerous"? does a font appear in your head when you read those words? how can you be playful with your lettering, instead of just doing what you think you should do? or how can you incorporate your own style into it?
anyway i learned a lot in that class :) this isn't really direct tips so much as a crash course on what exercises helped me but hopefully it'll do something for you!
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turboemmy · 2 years
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hii first id like to say thank u for making such cute and bouncy art, ive been in kind of a funk lately and your art has genuinely cheered me up a lil with how colourful & just generally sweet n positive it is!! if u don't mind me askin, i rly dig that grainy papery texture you sometimes use, is there a certain texture pack etc you got it from or are there any similar looking ones you'd recommend? :o
oh thank you so so much!!!! I love making everything round and squishy hehe, and i looove bright colors. Im so glad theyre well liked !! 🥺💕 i hope you get outta your lil funk soon! Ive been there before too and ik its not easy !! 😔
As for the textures tho, yes i do use like a texture pack!! I specifically buy off creative market, its really got a bunch of nice assets for artists by artists that is very great! The ones i love to specifically use are here and they have cardboard textures that are similar to like. Chipboards ! :-)
I also use film grain overlays too, those are very nice. I totally recommend signing up for emails on there because most mondays they have 5 free things you can get. Sometimes you find a cute font, or sometimes a small texture pack! But yeah! I love using the cardboard pack most. 🥰
I hope it helps!! Its a lot of fun to play with overlays and stuff or noise filters !!!
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britesparc · 3 years
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Weekend Top Ten #480
Top Ten Videogame Logos
I like games. I’ve been playing them for a long time; since the 1980s, which was over seven years ago. In that time I’ve seen many ages of gaming come and go – remember full motion video? – but one thing I have noticed is that game packaging has shrunk and shrunk and shrunk. From large sturdy cardboard boxes the size of two hardback books back in the early nineties, to slim ‘n sexy DVD cases around the turn of the millennium, to – well – absolutely nothing these days as we oxidise games from the air. And one of the things that used to – and, I guess, still can do – make a game’s box art really pop was a sexy, elaborate, or otherwise just really frickin’ cool logo.
Now, by “logo” I’m basically talking about the design and typeface of the title itself. I don’t really mean the lambda sign from Half-Life, or – to step outside specific games for a second – the famous Ghostbusters symbol. Some games do actually end up with iconography incorporated into their title design, and you might see a little bit of it here; but for the sake of argument, I’m using “logo” to mean “title”, and how pretty that title is.
And I gotta say, some games had very, very pretty titles.
Now, I know, from research, that 8-bit games released in the eighties often had wild and wacky logos. However, there’s precious little of that on my list, because I didn’t really notice it at the time. I can appreciate it now, looking back, but it meant nothing to me forty years ago because, well, I wasn’t born or was simply far too young to notice. I didn’t really pay attention to box art until I had my Amiga, and that was about 1990. So there’s precious little here that’s genuinely old. That being said, I do seriously think that the golden age of logo design was that late eighties/early nineties period, as we transitioned from 8-bit to 16-bit home computers, with a legacy that continued into the PC dominance years of the mid-to-late-nineties. I think at this point the industry benefited from beginning to have certain established patterns and artists, but was still loose enough to allow a huge deal of experimentation and a feel of general lawlessness. It was in this era that Roger Dean reigned supreme, a vastly talented artist whose airbrush style defined the Amiga 500 for me. His work can be seen on this list, and – surprise – it’s at number one. Dean was so good that not only did his artwork grace dozens of boxes, but he also designed the greatest logo for a game developer of all time.
(Just as an aside: I had a lot of Psygnosis games for the Amiga. I remember vividly my cousin and I would desperately try to parse the wording of that logo – “Is it a P-S-V? P-S-V-C?” – during the brief time it appeared on screen whilst the game loaded. Ah, those exotic early years, full of wonder and possibility… but I digress)
Anyway, there were loads of bright, bold, colourful logos in those days. I think they mostly wanted box art that leaped out from a crowded computer shop shelf, and generally there was probably an assumption that the audience would be either young or nerdy, so there was no outward desire to be elegant or minimalist. Huge, chunky logos were popular; large text, airbrushed artwork, characters incorporated into the logo itself; plenty of shading and embossing effects were used to make a logo stand out proud on the box.
As time wore on, and the target audience aged and maybe wanted to appear a bit cooler, logos seemed to grow smaller. 3D extruded block text was replaced with simple white font work and elegant design. As such, into this new millennium, there are very few really exciting logos nowadays. Even my beloved Half-Life has a really minimalist design, which works, yeah, but it’s not exactly an all-timer. We do still get some very good logos now and again; I’ll go to bat for Halo any day of the week, but even that is twenty years old now. BioShock’s was pretty cool, too, with its rusted brass façade, but even that’s, what, 14 at this point? Blimey.
I think the evolution of the game logo can best be illustrated by comparing the original Doom logo to the one used in the 2016 remake. Vibrant colour versus flat white. I know which I prefer.
So there we are; my ten favourite game logos. And as these are game logos, I’ve banned anything that’s adapted from external media, whether it’s a Star War or Spider-Man or even Cyberpunk 2077 (which does have a cracking logo but is more or less a version of the one used in the original role-playing game). Anyway. Let’s have at it.
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Shadow of the Beast (1989): not the first Roger Dean box art, but arguably the most famous, and certainly the one that caught my attention. Well, actually, it was Beast II in 1990 that I saw, but I’m picking this original logo as it’s a bit cleaner without the “II”. Anyway, what’s not to like? Dean’s fantasy-metal style is evident, with a logo that’s kind of threatening to look at, the pointed curls descending from the letters connoting teeth or claws, but the brushed, metallic detailing giving it a technological bent. Supremely cool, freakish, and a style carried very strongly into the game (and moreso the sequel).
Elite (1984): a rare example of a relatively minimalist piece of box art for the eighties, but all the same this logo is something else. Huge and bold, carved out of solid gold, its eagle wings suggesting the power of flight whilst the strangely-crowned head suggests something almost majestic or godlike. It’s the perfect logo for a game about space exploration, yet it also has echoes of Nazi symbolism or even Judge Dredd, giving the game a subtle sense of menace.
Lemmings (1991): unlike the other two, this was a fun, bouncy game, whose childish, cartoony stylings hid a dark and fierce puzzling heart (and also supremely distressing scenes of Lemmings getting mutilated). But this logo is beautiful, its jolly, chunky green typeface reflecting both pastoral beauty and the hair of the little critters; the misaligned letters reminiscent of the undulating hills the levels hint at (but don’t actually contain, particularly). And we get the heads of the Lemming poking out, squarely cementing them as an important part of the experience, their character the defining characteristic of the game itself and all its associated art.
Doom (1993): a seminal moment in gaming, and a seminal logo too. Surprisingly colourful for a game about the ravages of hell, this is a bold and bright bit of typography, the extruded letters suggestive of the 3D nature of the game itself; the almost terracotta tiles meshing with the complex mechanical geometry on the letters reminiscent of the game’s merging of the supernatural with the highly technological. And there’s the pointed extremities of the word, directed down like fangs, hinting at the horrors and dangers to come. Quite simply brilliant.
Minecraft (2009): the most recent game on the list, but its logo is almost a throwback. Thick, square, blocky letters reflect the cuboid nature of the gameworld; the angle away from the camera suggests height and importance, subtly hinting at the scale of the game itself. This is an iconic piece of iconography, instantly recognisable by children – to the extent that trying to draw a logo like Minecraft, or recreate the Minecraft logo itself, is fairly common in our house. I also like that one of the letters appears to be a Creeper.
Pac-Man (1980): and here we have the oldest logo! But so iconic. The chunky font, with letters comprised of thick shapes, devoid of some of their detailing, is cool enough; despite being released at the beginning of the eighties it has an almost sixties vibe. The “C”, of course, looks like Pac-Man himself. But what really makes it art is the offset colours, giving it the air of a misprint or of looking at 3D without glasses. It’s a deeply cool effect and helps make the logo feel timeless.
Dizzy (1987): another oldie, making its first appearance in ‘87’s Dizzy: The Ultimate Cartoon Adventure, although the logo design was very slightly tweaked and refined by the follow year’s Treasure Island Dizzy. Simplistic 3D block letters, but what makes it sing is that they’re dizzy; linework suggests them spinning, but it’s how the perspective differs from letter to letter, giving them a confused and discordant feel, that gives it just that little bit extra.
Zool (1992): perhaps a lesser-known and less iconic logo, unless you were a huge Amiga game in the early nineties. The airbrushing to give it a metallic, embossed effect is very of the moment, but what I love is the eyes. The double-O is rendered as Zool’s cross-looking eyes in his ninja bandana. On one hand, making the Os eyes is rather first-base, but partly it’s how they’re executed that I like; it’s also just because the big angry eyes are rather funny.
Pokémon (1996): first appearing on the cover of Pokémon Red and Green in ’96, the general Pokémon logo is a beaut. Again, it gives the appearance of simplicity, but the execution is complex. Chunky, friendly lettering, yellow like kid favourite Pikachu; kids’ll love that. The blue outline and drop shadow help it pop and give it a subtle, almost 3D effect. And the letters are discordant; rather than a regimented logo, it’s all over the shop, different sizes and weights of letter, all jostling for position on the page. It perfectly encapsulates the tone of the game.
Deus Ex (2000): I’ve more-or-less steered clear of the sci-fi design of “metallic logo that’s otherwise just the title”. I like logos with a bit of something extra; hence no Perfect Dark or Halo, despite those being great in and of themselves. Deus Ex takes the spot, though, partly because the letters seem built out of something, cobbled together in a dystopic, cyberpunk-y way. As you play a cyborg, this feels apt. And then there’s the logo itself, a towering corporate-looking edifice, a brilliant juxtaposition of two shapes that together suggest a D and an X. It’s slick and shiny, and is present in the game itself as a gently rotating loading screen, reflective of the advanced 3D graphics the game possessed.
Honourable mentions go to Theme Park, with a logo that’s suitably corporate and also reflective of a roller coaster, and Quake, just for that really cool nail-through-the-Q effect.
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radramblog · 3 years
Text
Album Discussion- Viva La Vida- Coldplay
Oh shit, is Rad gunning for the throat of what was once one of the biggest bands in the world again, no actually, I really like this album, why would I talk about albums I hate. I’m not sure I have the comedic acumen to manage that yet, but I guess we’ll find out when I inevitably try.
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Viva La Vida is Coldplay’s 4th studio album and one I have a lot of personal nostalgia for. It’s permanently associated with a particular time in my life, where I got the album added to an MP3 player I had and listened to it constantly over and over, and somehow didn’t get sick of it. It’s also the last album from the era in which they were actually good (haven’t listened to Everyday Life yet though), though it’s kinda a major departure from the sound and tone of the previous 3.
It’s also the first one where they really start getting up their own ass. Like, that font? And the French Revolution imagery? I guess there’s something to be said for such but relatively clean band having artwork featuring someone’s entire tiddy out on their album, but I suppose it’s considered a tasteful nude given the context of the original painting. Anyway.
The album opens with Life in Technicolor, spelled without the u despite them being British because fuck me, I guess. This instrumental really quickly establishes that this is going to be a different one- Coldplay’s previous work is extremely solid if vaguely generic alt-rock instrumentation, and here comes this song with a…. (looks it up)…santoor? Which sounds completely different to anything else they’ve put out. It’s also, again, an instrumental, which is pretty unique for the band considering how heavy a focus Chris Martin’s vocals tend to get. What we end up with is this short and sweet little introductory piece that I don’t have much else to say about other than I really like it. What I can briefly comment on is Life in Technicolor II, the version released as a single and on the EP immediately following this album. It’s like, twice as long, as full on vocals, and as a result overstays its welcome by quite a bit. It’s not like the vocals are bad, but they really do feel tacked on.
Cemeteries of London is next up, a ghost story of a track with heavy Christian themes and folk influences. There’s this echoey guitar in the backdrop of this that gives it an eerie edge, even with the relatively chill acoustic lead. I think putting so much clapping in such a minor-key track is a bold play, and it seems to have paid off for them. This song feels almost bleak, even desperate at times, like the vocals’ peak describing an encounter with God that doesn’t quite work out. There’s an unspoken tragedy here. It’s another of the album’s better tracks.
Lost! (exclamation point is part of the title) is a bit more uptempo, but not really any more upbeat. I don’t know what instrument is making that beat, but it sounds neato, and they just have a church organ running through this whole thing, because why not, sounds aight. It’s kinda U2-ey, which isn’t really a compliment coming from me. I would be very interested in another artist’s take on this track- and I don’t mean Lost+, that’s awful and doesn’t fucking count.
42 is the next track, and I don’t think that’s a Hitchhiker’s Guide reference. It’s again, extremely moody, or at least, the first part is. The composition of this is actually really interesting, it’s basically three separate songs mashed into one. The first part is the moody piano bit, the middle a banging instrumental bit, and the last bit this really fun collision of both types of instrumentation. Ultimately, 42 is an experiment that was probably for the best, since I’m entirely confident any part of this being the full song would get old real quick. But the split means none of them overstay their welcome.
Speaking of overstaying welcomes, Lovers in Japan is almost 7 minutes, and as a result was the track I always skipped as a kid. This is because the album version contains a second song in it, “Reign of Love”, which isn’t its own track for reasons that are completely alien to me. Much like Lost!, Lovers in Japan feels extremely U2, soaring guitars and choruses, but I just did not vibe with that as a kid and it’s hard to come back to now as a result. Reign of Love, on the other hand, basically just feels like 3 entire minutes of piano-based outro, and is really not worth sitting through Lovers in Japan to experience.
Yes is the title of the next song and it opens with violins in a rock song fuck yes! It’s also one with two songs in it, this time with “Chinese Sleep Chant” (uhhhhh) attached at the end for a total track length of 7:06. This doesn’t bother me as much as weith Lovers in Japan/Reign of Love, because I actually like both halves of this one. Yes feels like VLV-era Coldplay’s take on something grungier, with Chris Martin going lower than I think he does on any other song in their discography. This simple vocal switch makes the song seriously stand out from their other works, a more traditional rock instrumental standing out from the rest of the album in its relative simplicity. There’s still a lot going on, but it feels tighter and more restrained. I do think Yes might be my favourite track on the album. Chinese Sleep Chant is…an ethereal wall of sound, with heavily affected vocals to the point where they feel more like part of the instrumental than anything. It’s otherworldly, and hardly the best example of a song like this, but it’s more than satisfactory.
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The next song is the title track, Viva la Vida, and I’m not really sure what there is to say about this that hasn’t already been said. It’s just such an incredible piece of music, orchestral and sweeping, emotional and moving. Aside from being tied to some awkward memories (I used it to audition for a musical in middle school, something I haven’t managed to forget try as I might), I don’t really have any complaints about it. Actually, that’s a lie, I have one. It’s fucking criminal that it’s largely associated with the CaptainSparklez Fallen Kingdom Minecraft song, which I never liked (compared to Revenge/TNT at least), to the point where every time VLV comes up in a SiIvagunner rip people are referencing that instead of the original. It’s just kinda shite, basically.
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Violet Hill, then. This rocks hard enough that it was in Guitar Hero III, standing proud alongside Through The Fire and Flames and The Number of the Beast in rock history. It’s pretty low-key for that lineup, of course, but it’s the heaviest thing on this album sonically, and probably lyrically, too- took me until googling it to find out it was an anti-war song, though some of the lyrics are more understandable (and decipherable) than others. The close of the song is soft and kinda heartbreaking, but the rest of it just goes. It used to be my favourite on the album. Not so much, I like Yes more now, sorry.
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The penultimate track is Strawberry Swing, another one I didn’t connect to as a kid. It’s got a bouncy, “tribal” beat, some really panned out double bass (?) for the bassline, and sounds almost sugary sweet. This song is so unbelievably relaxing, which is a really odd thing for a Coldplay song to be, but it works pretty well. I’m genuinely finding it hard to write listening to that, I just kinda keep getting lost in it. I swear it’s not just my ADHD, this song just chills you out. That’s probably a good sign, right?
The final song is Death and All His Friends, is another bloody double song- except I’m not sure it was on the version I had as a kid? I might be remembering wrong, but I’m pretty sure I’d not heard The Escapist before going back to this as an adult. Regardless, Death and All His Friends spends a long time in this low piano mood, serene and reassuring, it’s about a minute of that. It then spends like, another minute building up into what I’d call the song proper, an instrumental bit that eventually breaks out into this just desperate cry against what I can only assume is life, or death, one or the other. The lyrics are relatively brief before the song folds in on itself and ends, taking what I thought was the album with it. I do particularly like the line “I don’t want a cycle of recycled revenge”, that’s just fun to hear. And then we get to The Escapist and-wait this is just the start of Life in Technicolor again. But Chris has some vocals on some of it. I guess it bookends the album, but this is kinda pointless. And if you’re listening to the Album+EP version, it runs right into Life in Technicolor II, which gets a little repetitive.
In essence, Viva la Vida is an artier, more variable take on Coldplay, with a somewhat up its own ass aesthetic that at least backs it up with interesting music much of which is absolutely worth the time. It is also the last gasp of Good Coldplay, with every release afterwards (again, I haven’t heard the latest album, it’s apparently decent) being not especially great- while most agree that the poppier direction of Mylo Xyloto alienated most of their fanbase, and it sure did me, I actually don’t like Prospekt’s March either. But that’s a story for another time.
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octopusunoreverse · 4 years
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Refresh illustrator skills & evidence that you understand of the audience
LO: Various editing tools in illustrator  various tools like; type, knife, direct selection, fill, warp transformation, etc
In today’s lesson we look at fonts used in movie posters through typography, for example horror poster type tends to be thin, dripping and tend to be coloured in patterns like white, reds or black. Where as a Comedy is very misshaped it has curves and colours similar to pop art such as cyan with colours such as yellows or pinks and their font tends to be fun and curvy.
We decided to try this out with a few different genres of movies but using the title of the book we were given so I would use ‘where the wild things are’ for this and transfer them into the stylisation of these other genres.
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With the first from of experimentation we looked at shattering and glitching similarly used in thriller movies posters for Psycho and disrupted, both using a shattered line horizontally throw the type. This is created using the knife tool and while holing command shift while holding the knife tool we can make straight cuts though the text objects, the shift is so it stays at a the same angle, so with the second line of text I tried overlapping the knife cuts and moving in different directions, trying to replicate a shatter patten. I imagine this being less related to the original book and more of a crime thriller.
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The second we look at horror movie posters for our inspiration, specifically ones with deformed and melty text. We created this by using the warp transformation tools to make this melted liquid effect, I also used the noise one to create more detorsion in the text. I understand why they use this dripping to illustrate blood, thought I tend to see this used for the cult classic movies and their remakes and a common use of colours such as black and reds to trick the brain to think BAM! DANGER! though it dose give a different perspective to my original title, It makes what was a children's book look a lot less like a children's book and more like some psychotic thriller movie, I could visually imagine slowly melting, I can imagine the wild thing in the book to be more monsteras and murderous. 
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with the comedy one I looked that the key features of comedy movie posters, like the ones above and I found things like the contradicting colours (e.g. pink, blue, orange, green and yellows) these tended to be the brighter versions of these colours sometimes bordering on neon in some cases (depending on the movie), the typography used also follows this bright patten where it sticks out from the rest of the poster like ‘The Lorax’ text sticks out from the rest of it, as well as having this bouncy, slanted positing, emphasised by the fact its has been illustrated to look like a 3d object projecting itself out further to the audience. 
I try recreating some of these features with my experimentation. I tried to curve the text with the direct selection tool to change the anchors on the text to give them a curved look, I also removed some of these anchor points on the censors  of the letters (I don't think id try this again or not at least with this text font) I also resized the end letters on the end of the top and bottom lines trying to see if it would change the perception of the text.
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I’ve always consider Western movies to be there own strange thing itself I haven't personally gone ‘Oh! lets go watch a western!’ the genre it self has been run into the ground and with there overuse of the same plot points and racist and crast content, I’ve never seen a use for it. thought I will say the fonts they use alone are the key factor of what draws me into there posters, lots of  extra fancy swirls and extravagant lettering, which in itself makes sense, considering they looked hand painted or printed on the old printers they had back then (excluding the ones made in the modern day), they also use very drastic and bold colours for these depicting danger or adventure.
with this one we looked at font that we liked the look of and coloured them and then created and duplicated it and sent it behind the coloured text, now I wanted to make it look like the sun was setting at one side of the page ( the left for example, this was to make it the perspective that it was a birds eye view of the text similar to what I had seen in transitions from title card to video, with the text in the background I made it slightly smaller than the yellow text, and moved it to the side, I made it smaller because when moving it to the side, it looked like a more realistic depiction of a shadow. I over all enjoyed the shadow play and would possibly try it my self with my own stuff.
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Action, now with these posters they are made to create a scene of danger and adventure to draw you in, some times the hole poster themselves can be a bit over the top and chaotic, but get the ideas of the movie across well .
A common similarity with them, is the type is big and bold, in all caps that has a gradient on it for the ‘Hot fuzz’ poster there a gradient from each end of the title, the clever thing for that the gradient is used to emphasise the heat coming from the rest of the poster. Where as ‘The Thing’ is a lot more composed in its gradient its dark to light, and this is to create the image that the light is also hitting the type.
so when doing the experimentation myself I did It on both the single letter themselves which doesn't look as good but dose present some ideas for light ideas or perception. where as when they are put all tougher projects the idea of light better than the first one, it translates a lot better.
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fredo13 · 4 years
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Text Designs With Inspiration from other posters...
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These first two designs was a glitch effect and then a smashed glass design. I felt the Glitch wouldn't work for “Fight Club” due to it isn't a glitch film compared to the smash effect which seems like it has been punched and relates a lot to the story line of “FIGHT CLUB” I also liked the overlay of the broken words giving that patched up effect and by seeing this it is darker on the joins.
The next one being more horror and gory I think is bait too dramatic for “FIGHT CLUB” People see this style of font and will think its a horror and types of murder like “Friday 13th” And that's not what I'm looking for.
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This is a fun bouncy enjoyable font style. Interpreting that its a type of comedy and a non violent watch or read. “FIGHT CLUB” is the opposite and though not a horror but has its violence and is more an action and a style of dark comedy on 18+ terms.
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I quite like these gradient style designs specially the one on the left as it has a black stroke around the outline of each letter compared to the one on the right which fades into the background colour. the one on the left is a more block gradient more intense and harsh transition between the two colours making this a more exciting font design as a potential poster design for FIGHT CLUB but the other seems more distant doesn't attract the eye, soft and relaxing. 
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This western design works with its textures and points and sharp edges but too western vibes for a FIGHT CLUB design. But with the textures like on the soup and the bold pointy letters is attractive to the eye but also adds that action vibe and not enough to say horror so its a nice happy medium and think id try a few of these out.
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meghmagu-blog · 4 years
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P2 Process: “The Essence of a Penguin”
**(This post was sitting in a draft and never got posted so I’m re-posting)**
Ideas for my audio clip: 
1. “Slow Dancing in the Dark” - Song by Joji (0:45 - 1:48)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVDiAoxdR8E 
2. “Euphoria” - the door scene (0:10 - 2:31)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNJ5sGL3vD4
3. “Atypical” - The Essence of a penguin 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WULkMD9YCuI
Why I chose “The Essence of a Penguin” 
I’m going to stick with number 3, although it was a tie between Euphoria and Atypical, I wanted to do something more uplifting for my video - something motivational. I really connected with the clip and the main character Sam in this tv series; his struggle with university and trying to figure out his project which is something I felt throughout the first semester of my 4th year. The connections he draws between the penguin and himself is quite beautiful and says something about his character's ability to persevere through challenges. I’m excited to get started on how I can convey the essence of his character for my Long Story Short. 
Storyboard:
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Colour Scheme:
I wanted a colour scheme that was fun and bouncy but was still able to be used to visually convey a serious underlying message in my clip. I felt like the darker and more muted colours contrasted well with the brighter and lighter colours. I created an illustration below with my colours and corresponding codes. 
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Font Choice:
I went with “Source Code Pro”, a typeface that is a monospaced sans serif, created for Adobe systems. Below I created a demonstration of the font and its various styles. I will be using predominantly Bold and SemiBold.  
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Visuals: 
I know this project isn't about conveying the audio clip through illustrations, but rather with type, however, I wanted to include an illustration of a penguin seeing as the meaning of Sam’s monologue is based around penguins. I also included a moon and stars in my storyboards above, which I included to add a bit of contrast between for the lettering. 
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safiarassoolviscom · 4 years
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Logo development 4
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I cut out my letters from the splat and decided to experiment with the shape created. I added an inner glow and an intense plastic wrap to the image. This was the outcome! I think the effect is really interesting and fun, it almost looks as if somebody has written the words with their fingers in the mess! This fits perfectly with the idea of grubbiness. I do like this is orange however when I export it or print it does seem very dulled down and I don’t want this. With pink there is not this issue. 
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I put the logo in pink and shrunk it down to see how it would work smaller- the words are still readable and the effect is still there! My only problem was, my outlined typography looked a little bit scruffy- this does add to the effect however I wanted to trial a type face as well.
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I chose to trial Frued as it was very similar to my outlined type face, its bouncy, fun and similar to the 7 Bone font I previously liked. When setting it straight and as it is, it looked a little too perfect. 
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Therefore, I decided to experiment with changing sizes of letters and placements, making it look more realistic and natural. I think the outcome is great and again works well when shrunk down. Although the design is simple, I think its effective and really captures my idea. Using an adobe font in comparison to my outlined type face means the creation of ephemera and anything else that requires type is much easier and quicker.  I am going to continue on experimenting with colour and with a tag line before I decide on my final logo. 
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thisisheavynews · 5 years
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Zac Brown Band Talks Bourbon, ZZ Top Celebrates Beer Drinkers And Hell Raisers As Bourbon And Beyond 2019 Comes To A Close
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Zac Brown Band closes out Bourbon and Beyond 2019. Sunday, September 22, 2019 in Louisville, Kentucky
Photo by Barry Brecheisen
As summer time winds down, the Hometown Rising, Bourbon and Beyond and Louder Than Life music festivals carry renewed vacationer curiosity to Louisville, Kentucky throughout three consecutive September weekends. 
Bourbon and Beyond drills down on meals and beverage along with nice stay music, however options just a little little bit of the whole lot that’s carefully related to the “Bluegrass State.”
“We love finding ways to reach out to folks and sort of interpret baseball through all sorts of different lenses, especially to sort of broaden the story of it a bit. Whenever there’s some type of pop culture way to draw baseball in, we’re all about that,” defined Louisville Slugger Museum and Factory Vice President and Executive Director Anne Jewell. 
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Gallery: ZZ Top, Zac Brown Band, Leon Bridges, Edie Brickell, Margo Price And More On Day three At Bourbon And Beyond – Photo Recap
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Since 1884, Louisville Slugger baseball bats have been made in Louisville, Kentucky and solely Louisville, Kentucky and the corporate has a significant footprint in its dwelling metropolis. 13,000 seat Louisville Slugger Field acts because the summer time dwelling of the Triple-A Louisville Bats and the corporate runs 12 months spherical excursions of its manufacturing unit and museum.
“We are so proud that the city’s name is in our name. We know that we are ambassadors for the city and we don’t take it for granted,” mentioned Jewell. “Our factory tour is the real deal – this isn’t a fake factory. We are the only place in the world where these baseball bats are made and you’re walking right through the heart of our production line. We just renovated our factory tour, so it’s a whole new experience. And our next stop is renovating our galleries and our store. Even if you’ve been to our place before, it’s a new experience if you come back. You don’t have to be a big baseball fan to enjoy it.”
Bourbon and Beyond entered its third 12 months in 2019 and Louisville Slugger has partnered with the music pageant since its inception, creating distinctive mementos and experiences for followers and artists alike. 
“We give each act in the lineup a black and silver Louisville Slugger bat that’s customized with the Bourbon and Beyond logo in silver. Then it’s personalized with their names. For some of the real iconic performers – the Rock and Roll Hall of Famers and so on – we also create customized bats. They’re real works of art that sort of fit each artist’s vibe and groove and style,” Jewell defined. “We ask the artists to sign those and then we add them into our music superstars collection, which features musicians like Bob Dylan and Stevie Wonder and Carrie Underwood. Then we bring those out for our guests. When they come visit us, we have them out on display and folks get a chance to hold them and know they’re holding something that was in the hands of their rock and roll heroes.”
Baseball was on full show Friday night time on the Bourbon and Beyond stage as John Fogerty carried out his baseball targeted 1985 hit “Centerfield” on a baseball bat formed guitar, a model of which has discovered a everlasting dwelling within the Baseball Hall of Fame.
“We made an amazing bat for John Fogerty this year. It’s sort of outfitted with a traditional look but has a smoky, flame brand to it which really brings out the deep wood grain. We had sort of a red, white and blue stars and stripes logo for him with his arched John Fogerty logo. We can’t wait to get our hands on that after he’s signed it and put it out for folks to see,” Jewell mentioned. “Even folks who aren’t that big of baseball fans but are music fans, we get a chance to tell them a little bit of the story of baseball too.”
Nowhere was the incorporation of music and meals higher displayed at this 12 months’s pageant than throughout a Sunday panel dialogue that includes Zac Brown Band chef Rusty Hamlin and guitarist Coy Bowles.
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Chef Rusty Hamlin and Zac Brown Band guitarist Coy Bowles on stage on day three at Bourbon and Beyond. Sunday, September 22, 2019 in Louisville, Kentucky
Photo by Barry Brecheisen
Chef Rusty handles Brown’s “Eat and Greet” every night time on tour and options a wide range of recipes on his web site, together with his tackle a New Orleans basic.
“On stage, I did a Louisiana barbecue shrimp which means just shrimp in a pan with compound butter and spices and stuff. Then I flamed it with the bourbon and it came out really well. Anything you use white wine in, almost, you can use bourbon in,” Hamlin advised Forbes backstage Sunday afternoon. “Lately I’ve been taking different barrel ash and using it for curing fish or turning it around and doing brines with it. You can incorporate that ash into a brine and it really, really helps to bring out the flavor. But, when it comes to infusing anything from sauce to ice cream, you can definitely use bourbon.”
Hamlin’s cooking for the band options bourbon in a wide range of methods and Zac Brown Band multi-instrumentalist John Driskell Hopkins and bassist Matt Mangano are each followers of the spirit.
“I’ve been hanging out today with Angel’s Envy and with the Pappy Van Winkle group. And they’re friends and they’ve got a long Louisville history together with families stretching hundreds of years making these amazing whiskeys. It’s great to see the families come together and this unity behind a product that everyone all over the world can enjoy,” mentioned Hopkins backstage. 
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Zac Brown Band closes out the Bourbon and Beyond music pageant. Sunday, September 22, 2019 in Louisville, Kentucky
Photo by Barry Brecheisen
“I enjoy the bourbon,” Mangano advised Forbes. “Having a bourbon is historically a gentleman’s drink and it sort of brings people together who might not normally sit together. You can sit down at a bar next to somebody and strike up a conversation about your bourbon. It’s just a fun social idea to hang out and have a whiskey and to be surrounded by so many different craftsmen too,” he continued, noting the pageant environment.
Zac Brown Band was a success Sunday night time working up their fiddle-fueled tackle cuts like “Knee Deep” early, finally working in covers ranging anyplace from Charlie Daniels Band (“Devil Went Down to Georgia”) or Kings of Leon (“Use Somebody”) to Dave Matthews Band (“Too Much”). 
The totally different sounds and types explored Sunday night time at Bourbon and Beyond acted as an amazing primer for the group’s sixth studio album The Owl, which was launched final Friday and covers huge musical floor.
“I been waitin’ on this all day!” mentioned Brown, opening Sunday night time’s co-headlining set with “Homegrown.” “We’re so happy to be sharing the stage with these legends,” he continued, noting weekend performers like Fogerty, Robert Plant and ZZ Top.
Comedian Adam Carolla made a cease on the pageant Sunday too, speaking spirits on stage with connoisseur Fred Minnick.
Bourbon and Beyond marked the final cease of a weekend which noticed Carolla recording a web based collection known as Bourbon Barter throughout a visit throughout Kentucky’s famed Bourbon Trail for airing by way of Spirits Network.
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Adam Carolla in dialog with Fred Minnick on day three at Bourbon and Beyond. Sunday, September 22, 2019 in Louisville, Kentucky
Photo by Barry Brecheisen
“When I was at Justin’s, I tried a bourbon called Old Blowhard, which is what my kids call me,” Carolla joked of a cease at Justin’s House of Bourbon in Lexington, Kentucky. “I took a shine to that. I basically like the really expensive bourbon when it’s free.”
Elsewhere on the Sunday music slate, Edie Brickell carried out alongside the New Bohemians.
“We’re gonna go back in time. We’ll see if you remember…” mused the singer, opening her Bourbon and Beyond set Sunday with “Stranger Things.” 
The affect of the Grateful Dead was notable within the guitar taking part in of Brickell and authentic New Bohemian Kenneth Neil Winthrow throughout a lightweight, bouncy early afternoon set Sunday.
“Serving up a little teen angst,” joked Brickell. “There’s a little part of that that’s still alive in me,” she continued establishing “Circle.
The singer kicked repeatedly together with her left leg later, closing the group’s 1988 hit “What I Am.”
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Edie Brickell & New Bohemians carry out on day three at Bourbon and Beyond. Sunday, September 22, 2019 in Louisville, Kentucky
Photo by Barry Brecheisen
ZZ Top set the stage for Zac Brown with a rollicking biggest hits set that began robust with “Got Me Under Pressure.” 
Guitarist Billy Gibbons and bass participant Dusty Hill strutted in sync to the foot of the stage, pointing at each other as “I Thank You” kicked in subsequent.
The group’s patented fuzzy guitars have been out for “Legs” and Hill appeared to the group, cupping his ear, hamming it up as Gibbons took over “La Grange.”
“Tush” was a efficiency throughout which Hill dealt with the lead vocal, permitting Gibbons to get pleasure from a cigar as he ripped off a scorching slide guitar solo.
“We’ve been coming around here for 50 years,” noticed Gibbons of the group’s historical past in Louisville, introducing bandmates Hill and drummer Frank Beard. “Same three guys right here, same three chords.”
from Heavy News https://thisisheavynews.com/zac-brown-band-talks-bourbon-zz-top-celebrates-beer-drinkers-and-hell-raisers-as-bourbon-and-beyond-2019-comes-to-a-close/
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samanthasroberts · 5 years
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230-plus obstacles in one race sets world record for fun
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(CNN)The rat race, metaphorically speaking, is nothing to aspire to. It represents a craven desire for money and power through one’s career. Even if you win the rat race, as a favorite teacher of mine liked to say, you’re still a rat.
Fit Nation: Around the World in 8 Races will air three times on Saturday, July 21, between 1 and 6 p.m. ET and one time between 5 and 6 p.m. ET on Sunday, July 22.
The Rat Race Dirty Weekend — which attracts thousands of competitors every year to the expansive grounds of a noble estate two hours north of London — shares a few qualities with the career metaphor. Ambition, pushing oneself and overcoming obstacles that stand in the way of your goal are common to both.
But the objectives between the rat race and the Rat Race are much different. The physical race is less about getting ahead than it is about fun, fitness and the satisfaction of overcoming fear and physical limitation in order to accomplish the course.
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With more than 230 obstacles spread over a single 20-mile loop, the Rat Race Dirty Weekend purports to be the largest obstacle course race (or OCR) in the world. Maybe it is — it’s impossible to prove and easy to outdo, depending how loose your definition of “obstacle” — but that’s not the point. The point, it seems, is to be the most fun OCR in the world. And from the smiles, good humor and bonhomie among the more than 5,000 rats who turned up this year, I’m going to declare mission accomplished.
For the event’s founder, Jim Mee, the balance is allowing adults to act like kids, while also making the course very challenging.
Build a better rat trap
Rat Race, a company that organizes Dirty Weekend and a host of other adventure courses throughout the world, is Mee’s brainchild. He isn’t just the founder and director, but he designs all of the races, as well.
Mee had participated in various OCR courses, including the Tough Guy, a public, non-professional course in Wolverhampton, England, created by a former British soldier in 1987 and considered to be the first of its breed. Mee saw an opportunity to do these races bigger, safer, better organized and more enjoyable. More well-known OCRs — Mee describes them as “suffer-fests” — tend to be more testosterone-fueled than family-friendly.
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The Rat Race series began in 2004, but the first Dirty Weekend event at Burghley House was in 2013. The family that owns Burghley House — reminiscent of “Downton Abbey” with its Elizabethan architecture and expansive grounds — wanted to partner with Rat Race and use the grounds for more than just horse events. Some of the obstacles are so elaborate and large that they live at Burghley House year-round.
This year, more than 3,500 competitors and their families camped on the grounds of Burghley House. There’s a concert after the race, a beer and food hall, and hot tubs you can soak in after the race for a modest fee. The whole experience draws teams of friends and families from all over the UK, Europe and beyond; runners came from 47 countries this year.
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Not content to just be the world’s longest OCR, the Dirty Weekend also featured a potential Guinness World Record-breaking length of monkey bars this year. Richard Heady and Thomas Wolfe await official recognition for each monkeying 56.6 meters of bars.
There were some growing pains on race day. Some route confusion met runners approaching one wooded area. A bouncy obstacle couldn’t be inflated in time. But with 230 others, what’s one or two fewer? Every year organizers make changes, adding different and more challenges.
Most participants say their favorite obstacle is the last one: a 60-foot-high water slide. Competitors barrel down the chute to a splashy end, just feet away from the rentable hot tubs and beer tent.
Technically, the winners this year were Jason Burgess, who completed the course in just over three hours, and Nicola Johnson at just over 3½ hours, and they each won a modest prize amount of 500 pounds. But the real winners were everyone who turned out for the most fun that a stately English estate can provide in a single day.
Everyone — kids and adults — was in a great mood afterward, enthusiastically recounting harrowing moments. A concert that night was headlined by Dave Pearce and the Ministry of Sound. Festivities ended at midnight, but the happy memories and sense of accomplishment last much longer.
Use the Force
Training for OCRs is multidiscipline. Athletes need to master long-distance running, weight training and then specific skills related to obstacles, such as rope climbing, swimming, balancing and swinging from rings.
“You can’t really train for it; that’s kinda why I like it,” said Dominique Searle, a UK police officer who came in third among women last year, her first time, despite a goal just to finish.
In addition to putting in the training miles for what is nearly a marathon of running alone, a variety of strength and conditioning workouts are important for building up more than just running fitness. One runner attributed his amateur boxing training with giving him upper body strength that served him during the Rat Race. OCR athletes who have space and the budget might build mini obstacle courses in their backyards.
OCRs are all-body workouts: arms, legs, core, heart and lungs. “You use parts of your body you don’t normally use,” Mee said. “That’s part of the beauty of it.”
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But it’s also a workout for your psyche. “I know my legs can do it,” said John Burrows, the gardener at Burghley House, who competed in Dirty Weekend for the third time this year. “It’s just my head that needs to be told, as well.”
One of the largest of the Rat Race obstacles, the “Ewok Village” rope structure, greets racers with a giant banner written in Star Wars font: “May the Force be with you.” And it does seem that in addition to physical fitness, there is another force at play.
For some, the psychological obstacle isn’t endurance or managing pain but rather fear, particularly the common phobias associated with height, water and confined spaces. One obstacle combines two of those as you plunge two stories down into a pool of water from which you swim out.
Searle said the Rat Race Dirty Weekend helped her combat the PTSD she felt after being hit on her bike by an off-road vehicle. “These races have totally brought me back out of myself and having fun with [my] kids again, rather than being scared and not wanting to go out,” she said.
“We see a lot of our participants doing this for mental health,” Mee said. “You have to face your fears.”
Newcomers should ease into the sport with shorter or less competitive races. The Dirty Weekend Rat Race, for example, offers a 13-mile option. There are many OCRs available, but given that the sport has little regulation and some degree of risk, it may be prudent to stick with more established providers.
There is not a lot of gear required for OCR. “A pair of trainers, my mates, grit, determination, and that’s all I need,” Mee said. Reebok and New Balance are among the manufacturers jumping on the trend to make “OCR shoes,” distinguished by added tread (good for climbing) and good drainage (for water obstacles). Some OCR competitors wear gloves to help with grip, especially when they are soaking wet.
Many runners use small running backpacks that hold water containers and protein snacks; staying hydrated between water stations and replenishing burned calories is vital. But for some obstacles, having a backpack was a liability. Many throw their vests to the other side of an obstacle before tackling it.
One of the toughest aspects that Dirty Weekend runners cited was the cold. The race has various parts in which you must get partially or fully wet. Having quick-drying running clothes is key to letting your body reheat. Avoid wool socks or clothes, because they chafe when they get wet. As with many outdoor sports, OCR requires managing clothing to avoid getting too cold or too hot. Whether it’s sweat or muddy pond water, wetness cools your body even when you don’t want it to.
There aren’t any public data on injuries from OCR events, but trails, jumps, inclines and the obstacles themselves create opportunities for twisted ankles, shoulder strain and pulled muscles.
See the latest news and share your comments with CNN Health on Facebook and Twitter.
Twisted ankles from uneven terrain and obstacle climbing are the most common injury at Dirty Weekend, Mee estimates, along with reinjury of pre-existing shoulder issues, such as a dislocated one. There is a doctor on-site during the race, and they’ve posted a safety video on YouTube.
Bad form or poor training can cause repetitive stress, given the length of the race. That said, unlike in most purely running races, there is less emphasis on speed, and many OCR participants prudently take their time getting over, under and through them.
In general, OCR athletes should compete defensively, staying alert to potential hazards. That’s what a smart rat would do. That’s how they get the big cheese.
Source: http://allofbeer.com/230-plus-obstacles-in-one-race-sets-world-record-for-fun/
from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2019/04/17/230-plus-obstacles-in-one-race-sets-world-record-for-fun/
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