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elioslover · 6 months

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Silver Screen (Mingling)- Harry Styles x reader.

Here's another little blurb from the series of Harry and Y/n running into each other at various award shows.

Warnings: Use of She/her pronouns. (extremely non-descriptive).

Word Count: 2.5k

Part 1 / Part 2 / Other Writing

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Another event- well, the after party of another pointless, meandering red carpet motioning him towards the flashing lenses, asking him questions that make less sense and lead him to melt into a puddle of confusion and complication- is this really where he saw himself? Spending his living days being dominated and feeding the demands of money-hungry producers and executives.

Thankfully, the cherry carpet demanded nothing more than a brief snapshot- no interviews dissecting and disproving his passion and beliefs. Creating a lifestyle and accommodating others, only for it to be deemed ‘okay’- or worse, they may ask him a serious and inciteful question, and instead of a wave of relief washing over him, he feels as if he is drowning in confusion, re-examining every decision he has ever made- every word inked to a notebook, every harmony, and every insecurity crashing to the surface, swallowing the sand that he once thought to be an indestructible base.

After the usual formalities, he finds the opportunity to disperse from his team, fulfilling all obligations and in dire need of a glass of scotch. One of which he orders at the nearest bar, taking a hearty sip to switch the temperament of his mood, and hopefully the rest of the evening.

-He spends what he would describe as a decent amount of time strolling and exploring the venue, making sure to never linger, stand up straight, and use the glass of icy whiskey in his palm as a welcomed coping mechanism. But, as he rounds another corner, the space before him is large, scattered with big names and faces all huddled in boastful groups, their arms flailing arrogantly, animatedly telling the same stories told on a loop, hoping for new audiences and with that, fresh chuckles of admiration. He wants to roll his eyes, but he knows better, instead raises his glass to his rosy lips, but is extremely disappointed when his tongue is met with only a single droplet of drink.

Thankfully, one positive of this room was the shining and welcoming bar set up directly in the middle. His feet have carried him over with little encouragement, the base of his polished boots almost bumping against the nearest stool. The bartender stands before him in the blink of an eye, eagerly awaiting to soothe his appetite and he aids, ordering his usual, deeply grateful as the waiter dashes off with great determination.

In the meantime, he turns to face the crowded room leaning back and balancing all of his weight on his lower back. The place is a clusterfuck of chromatic garbs, glistening jewels, and jovial jealousy- most are reasonably recognisable after a good glance, but each patron moving so poignantly makes it a proper challenge.

In the wake of the evening, he wonders if he would have even spotted her if not for the sudden outburst of obnoxious laughter coming from his left. Nevertheless, his attention snaps to the small but unnecessarily loud group of Grammy Guys and Golden Globers. Two of the men are mentioned far too regularly in the media, drowning in offers and loved by all; they are both donning bright, domineering, and fashion-forward fits- at least that’s how he thinks the public would profess so. Oddly though, there is one member of the group who seems greatly displeased, her arm folded across her chest, nursing a nearly-empty champagne flute and challenged with the task of faking enjoyment.

He feels as if chances keep falling at his feet, the tightness of fright that stirred at his stomach the last fortnight has suddenly melted into a mess of frantic hope and successful manifestation. So frantic that her presence will be as fleeting as the past- worried that looking away would wash her existence from the earth. It's only when the waiter politely calls out a second time that he jolts to alertness, twisting his body to hastily receive the beverage as well as expressing his appreciation.

Mercifully, when he looks over, she is as real and as present as earlier- bar the furrowing frown softly creasing at her forehead, lips begging to lull into a bored sulk. The group’s storyteller has geared up to start another riveting tale, and if it weren’t for the absolute fascination of her pout, he might have bothered to follow along.

Whatever the story, she is oblivious, slowly losing the will to act interested and attempting to drum up an excuse for leaving. Her gaze is glancing anywhere and everywhere, raking over the clothing of her peers, observing the other guests, and for a second, it seems she may have given the bar a brief look-over. Then she focuses her intentions on the clothing of the storytelling, her creased brows suddenly raising into ones of curiosity, and he wonders more than ever what she might be experiencing within.

He knows it would be in his best interest to find a way to say hello- there is no reason he wouldn’t be embraced by a group of an A-list actor, a triple-platinum singer, and the most beautiful stranger- but his feet stay stuck to the shined hard-wood, and the voices in his head have started a barbershop, harmonizing to the tune of ‘you messed it up last time… you’ll mess it up again’. Perhaps it would be rude to interrupt, rude to assume she’s displeased, perhaps even rude for assuming she isn’t.

By the grace of the gods, another bough of laughter breaks out, paired with the most gorgeous and gleeful giggle. He looks away bashfully, as if her laugh had been the result of his entertainment alone, shy within her presence- well, within the same room. Surely he had misread then, her discomfort must not have been real- and as he is about to shamefully accept his error, the group grows smaller and she begins to walk closer. Striding with stern confidence, she turns her back on the men and makes her way over to the bar- and in turn, hopefully, he.

She seems to glance him over, painfully brief and somehow sending a shooting pain along his spine as she stops and tilts her body over the bar counter to catch the attention of a patron. With as much speed as moments earlier, he can hear the way the bartender scurries around at the mention of her asking for a margarita, but the scuffle is being drowned out by the swell of sweetness taking over his brain at the sugary song that slips past her plump lips and peppers love bites along his heart. Only a short while later her drink arrives and she sounds far too grateful in turn.

The tips of his fingers tingle as she suddenly turns around, mimicking his stance of utilising her elbows for balance, her forearm mere millimetres from his own and for the love of god he prays she won't glance down and notice the goosebumps dancing along his skin. But she doesn’t- instead, she tilts her chin and cranes her neck to give his face a proper look. It's too late to start wishing she wouldn’t recognize him- he’s certain she does after their last… encounter- but if she had any ill feelings, it went unvoiced as she only smiled, the corners of her eyes creasing cutely.

She sips lowly, her lips glossed with pink tonic to match- a droplet threatening to slip slowly and waterfall down the bottom of her cupid bow, balancing on her upper lip and begging to be licked free. Perhaps by his tongue. Her attention returns to the now two famous men fiddling on the roof for the opportunity to one-up each other. But her grimace is telling, the distaste gathering between her brows, her bottom lip sucked and trapped between her front teeth.

He wants to giggle, or do anything, but he has become an inferno of self-doubt and cannot argue the fire into simmering long enough for him to string a sentence together. Why can't he just say hello, has he become such a hermit that the mere thought of a pretty girl has him in such a shameful frenzy?

And then she speaks as if it is the easiest thing she has done all day, her voice deep, but silky, each word as wonderful and skin-tingle-inducing,

“Were you working up the courage to say hello…” she raises the glass, taking a classy sip, her lips glossy and decorated grains of salt- her tongue darting out to lick away the residue, “Or, do you just get off on watching me suffer?”

He almost choked on his scotch and saliva as she confirmed that not only had she noticed him, but she was certainly aware of the way his eyes remained hooked and dreamily dedicated to her direction. And she is mere centimetres away, he can practically feel her skin simmering, heating him with lack of intent. His thoughts are threatening to spew honesty, telling him to trust himself and slip into smoothness. Though, he can only muster enough courage to mutter with excessive haste,

“Would rather get off from making you feel good.”

Half incoherent, but heard nonetheless, a burst of bashfulness attempts to paint her cheeks a beautiful blush red, but she shoves all flattery to the depths of herself and puts on a confident front,

“Say that again?”

And now he is the one begging his face from blooming with splotchy pink, but he certainly doesn’t succeed, shocked that his inhibitions had invaded his thoughts to the point of saying stupid things out loud. With a quick, and vital switch in conversation,

“Seemed like you were very interested in that conversation… didn’t want to interrupt.”

He hopes his aversion has done the trick, and when a soft bubble of giggles bursts from within her chest- symphonic and swoon-worthy, he feels he may never recover.

She tilts her body to get a better look at her companion and the pearly crystals of her gown sparkle with such vigour that they flicker along her face, highlighting her features, only furthering his fascination. She speaks boldly, her words bemused and seeped with disbelief,

“Interested? In the disaster of garments, those men are wearing?”

He glances over at the two men who are still engaged enthusiastically. She isn’t wrong, the first man’s entire suit is ill-fitted, crumpling in all the wrong places, chromatic lime combined with a loosely hanging fuchsia bowtie. Horrendous. And so, he laughs, loudly and lacking any shame, his lips letting his teeth peek past, cheeks swelling cutely,

“Christ, I don’t wanna hear what you think about mine-”

“Good.” She interjects with surety, “You look good.”

And he wants to ask for more- for her to flower him with flattery and elaborate on all of the elements and flares that encompass the fashion she deems as ‘good’. Grievously, he gives in to the little voice in his head that whispers and pleas for him to play it cool,

“Yeah?” Very cool.

She nods stoically, wisdom coating her eyes, glittery silver mixing with a slight hint of endearment. It may be the meekest of motions, hardly a smile in sight, but his chest swells nevertheless and he hopes with everything in him that she keeps up the kindness as she speaks up,

“Don’t let it get to your head.” Glitter dances across his face as she rolls her eyes, playfully scoffing and allowing a small smile to peak out to the corner of her cheeks.

Now he needs to see her grin in action, needs to feel the butterflies negging at his stomach from the sound of her giggles turning to laughter. A million and one ideas spring to mind, silly anecdotes, flat-out questions, compliments, suggestions of attraction- literally anything and everything- and then, his bubble of blooming euphoria bursts as a man, mid-fifties and dressed with elegance, saunters over with ease.

And when her eyes swell with recognition, it becomes definite that their conversation will now accommodate another body. But his disappointment does not dwell, he was savouring each second with her to begin with- after their last encounter, he felt eased to have had even a moment of restoration.

The man joins with a joyous gesture of his raised arms and grinning teeth as he stretches out and embraces her with a classic kiss to both cheeks. She reciprocates with cheeriness and open arms, exclaiming “Andreas,” before the words “lovely to see you” are muffled from her mouth brushing the velvet material of Andreas’ suit.

“You flatter me.” Andreas applies European etiquette, taking a slight step back to see her better. Paired with that, Andreas’ attention aims at her conversational partner, eyes widening with recognition and warmth at the reality of who stands with her.

Opening his mouth to attempt a formal introduction, he is shocked to silence, jaw slack, as she delicately reaches out and just barely places her palm on her upper arm,

“This is Harry.” She says it like she’s said it before- he wonders to who, when, what about?

His ears are engaging in a soft ringing sound, sweet sirens singing at him the fact that she knows who he is. It’s hardly heard when Andreas extends a hand, greeting and praising the opportunity of finally having a chance to connect.

Andreas speaks of a collaboration, marvelling over the creative concepts coming to fruition- all of them embracing the things he is best known for- whatever the topic, it proves hard to pay mind to, as the space on his arm where her hand once sat is still holding his attention.

The only thing that could tear his thoughts away- and does- is her voice, perking up with curiosity. She asks for some form of clarification, perhaps the location of another guest she hopes to mingle with. He’s struggling to hear her words, still stuck on the silky flow of her vocals, vibrating along the his already flaming skin.

Oh, but he definitely understands when she utters a polite, “Gentlemen, please excuse me”, her teeth peaking out from her peachy lips, a kind smile mirrored in her eyes.

He can confirm she is seeking out a woman, as her back becomes his only view, her body relaxed, shoulders straight, her silky gown shimmering as she sees what she wants and slips back into a crowd of gaudy party-goers.

She is gone and he is stood facing Andreas, his glazed gaze fading into focus as he maintains his manners and once more musts up the energy to engage in conversation. But, as always, he is late to the jump,

“So, how do you know, Y/n?”

This may be the best interruption of the evening- perhaps of the past year- he hadn’t known the pattering at his heart would be so poignant at the present of finally hearing her name. Pieces are fitting together like a puzzle- he wishes to find plenty,

“I don’t, really,” he hums honestly, “we keep bumping into one another."

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry x reader #elioslover #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles concept #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles imagines #harry styles masterlist #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction

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uwmspeccoll · 2 months

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Typography Tuesday

This week we revisit an untitled and undated specimen catalog from the Luzern, Switzerland, wood-type manufacture Roman Scherer (1848-1922), produced ca. 1905. Scherer founded Holztypenfabrik Roman Scherer in Luzern in 1877, designing and manufacturing wood type using wood from local fruit trees. Scherer's company was the first and probably the only Swiss wood-type manufacturer, operating until the late 1970s.

Scherer was born into a Swiss farming family and after leaving school he bounced around various jobs until he became manager at an early age of the Pays’schen Fabrik factory that produced wooden furniture and rifle stocks in Luzern. Here he learned how to manage the manufacture of wood products. So, at the age of 29 he acquired the requisite equipment and established his own business. By the early 20th century, the firm was earning commissions and awards, and Scherer was able to expand. The business remained prosperous after his death, but in the mid-1960s the foundry had to shut down because of the construction of Swiss Autobahn 27, and in 1966 the company was acquired by the Haas Type Foundry and moved to Münchenstein near Basel. Manufacture of wood type slowed and in 1976 production was moved to Gedi-Schriften of the Diller brothers company in Bamberg, Germany. Today, Scherer type catalogs are much sought after.

View a post on Scherer chromatic wood type.

View more posts with wood type.

View our other Typography Tuesday posts.

#Typography Tuesday #typetuesday #wood type #Roman Scherer #Holztypenfabrik Roman Scherer #type display books #type specimen books #specimen books #type specimens #Swiss type #20th century type

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the-legend-luci · 6 months

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Mutual Awards!

(Pt 3)

The Award for the best character design gose to...

@miatartistry! WHERE TO BEGIN. Okay, first off do you know how hard it is to translate a Minecraft character into a finished drawing??? Well, you wouldn't know because you do it flawlessly. All of your drawings a bursting at the seams with personality from the facial expression, mood and lighting each drawing fits the subject so well!! AND THE WAY YOU SHADE OMG

Mia's Certificate

And her prize!

Can you believe this is my first time drawing cat boy laurance

The Award for Most dedicated garrence shipper gose to...

@strxwberry-swtichblxde! There AU list consists of but is not limited to:

•college au

•roylity au

•seven deadly sins au

•like... doll x robot au

•horror

•metcute

•childhood friends

•spiderman

•barbie x ken

•Mermaid

•Metcute 2

•Ballet x gym

•Moomin

•Heathers

Even though I don't personally ship garrence I have nothing but appreciation to give. Your art is very pretty all of your poses are very unique and your colors look good 👍

Strawberries Certificate

And His prize!

I feel like sk laurance would be a hard-core tsundere

The Award for the most hardworking gose to...

@bbbeowulf! BRO BEO YOUR SO HARDWORKING I'm not gonna divulge your personal life here BUT WITH ALL THE THINGS YOU GOING ON AND ALL THE THINGS YOU MAKE OMG FIRST OFF YOUR ART IS SO GOOD. The chromatic aberration is so unique! I've never seen anything like it and it looks so good!!! Somehow it never looks too busy :D YOUR COMPOSITION OMGG IT'S ALWAYS SO COHESIVE AND THE SUBJECTS YOUR DRAW ARE ALWAYS SO CREATIVE.

Beo's Certificate

And it's prize!

Unfortunately, I can only do 10 images per post so I'm gonna have to do this in increments of 3😞 please check out all of them I want all my mooties to get well-deserved recognition 🙏🙏

Closing thoughts: if this seems bais it is because it probably is if you weren't included then I forgot you existed (JOKES!!!) but in all seriousness, this was really fun! (can you tell my love language is a gift-giving) I probably gonna do this again in like 2 months

#aphmau #minecraft diaries #aphmau mystreet #aphmau minecraft diaries #aphmau art #laurance zvahl #art #laurence aphmau #laurlaur #garroth ro'meave #meteli #teach me ur ways #mutual appreciation

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chromaticmood · 4 months

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This was inevitable guys 😂 I’ve been simping this bird for too much time to not write a comic about her. Just keep in mind that this is a fan comic, so don’t go crazy if something doesn’t fit with the canon. Enjoy!

PATREON SUPPORT

I’m reopening my patreon exclusively for the development of this comic. Check the different tiers to have early access and receive special awards. 3 pages will be posted each month plus special illustrations. I’m very excited for this and hope you guys enjoy it.

#helluva boss #fanart #stella #digital art #comic

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mybeingthere · 1 year

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Naudline Pierre (b. 1989, Leomister, MA), currently lives and works in Brooklyn, NY.

She holds an MFA from the New York Academy of Art and a BFA from Andrews University. She was the recent recipient of the Terra Foundation for American Art residency in Giverny, France, and the Estèe Lauder Merit Award.

"Born to Haitian immigrants and the child of a minister, Pierre’s Haitian-American cultural experience was heavily woven with fantastical Biblical stories, rife with apocalyptic messages and verbal pictures of otherworldly events. Being disinterested in making a case for or against religion, Pierre’s tableaux seek to investigate something more. With a subtle darkness, she uses symbols of sanctification––like the seven stars often hidden in the paintings or emanating crepuscular rays––to explore the ways in which her personal history was replaced with religion.

Pierre looks back on the Western history of figurative painting, and looks at the grand religious works found in the dominant art historical canon, to draw from a visual language that historically wasn’t hers. Using the rich legacy of oil painting combined with a highly chromatic palette, she immerses herself, her history, and her complexity into this long-standing visual language."

https://www.meer.com/en/37401-naudline-pierre

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k-martins · 10 months

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N.A - This only came about because I found this list, from @creativepromptsforwriting of prompts and couldn't get Itafushi out of my head. And of course I'm not addicted to California Gurls!

“Hey, Megumi!” Yuuji exclaimed. "Look at me! How I am?"

Megumi should get an award – a shiny gold trophy, preferably – for not choking on his iced mocha when Yuuji turned towards him, sporting the most hideous and tacky thing Megumi had ever seen in his entire existence. A few people also stop their shopping at the convenience store to stare at the boy with the pink hair, a mixture of amused smiles and wide-eyed surprise.

In another situation, Megumi would have been embarrassed by all the attention they are attracting, but the shock prevented any other feelings from getting through to him.

Giant heart-shaped glasses covered Yuuji's eyes, the blinding red of the frames meeting the pink wires and standing out against the yellow sweatshirt open for the world to see the boy's tan chest. Yuuji looked like the very union of all the warm colors of the chromatic cycle, reflecting the heat of summer. And he was also terribly tacky and, shit, he looked so adorable.

Shaking off the daze that the terribly bright sight of Yuuji caused, Megumi went back to slowly sipping his mocha , the cloying sweetness of chocolate touching the back of his throat. It's not the drink he would normally order, but wanting hot coffee at a kiosk in midsummer, just a few meters from the beach, was a demand that even he couldn't insist on.

After a few seconds of silence, with Yuuji still with open arms waiting for an answer, Megumi replied:

“You look like a tasteless 90s women's fashion ad.”

Yuuji lets out an offended yelp, clutching his chest. If he noticed Megumi staring at the place, I don't comment, preferring to follow his talk about heart glasses, defending them as if it were his divine mission in life.

“Just so you know, heart glasses are very fashionable in the west. Kugisaki told me it's a very versatile vintage model . You can wear it with any outfit, anywhere. It saw? They are practical!”

Megumi shrugged.

"It's still too shameful."

Nothing could convince him to change his mind. Not fashion facts – that he didn't care, why, who did? Just use what you fucking like ! – nor how cute Yuuji was with them.

Yes, he was firm in his decision.

“Come on, Guumi …” Yuuji whimpered.

"Do not start. And return it soon.”

“But they look so good on me.”

"Give it back."

"I already know! I'll buy you one too." Yuuji laughed out loud, mocking Megumi's horror. “With both of us using it, it will be less embarrassing.”

“If you dare, I will kill you.”

The threat only served to intensify the boy's laughter, making his entire body tremble with amusement against Megumi's shoulder. More eyes turned toward them, and for a fleeting moment, he caught two girls pointing at them and exchanging giggles. It was instinctive to lower his head to his chest, though that did little to hide his flushed cheeks without his school uniform.

As if to chastise Megumi for some past sin, Yuuji leaned further into his personal space, his bare chest pressing against his shoulder, his forearm resting on the shelf full of stuffed animal keychains, showing off the black bracelet that's tied to the one tied to his shoulder . Megumi's pulse. Yuuji's breath blows across his hot cheeks, the aroma of the strawberry frappuccino he was eating filling the air. The heat becomes increasingly abrasive as Megumi becomes more aware of Yuuji's presence against his side.

He eagerly drinks his own cold drink .

"Megumi..." Yuuji calls out, drawing Megumi's attention. There's the shit-eating smile of someone who's about to transfer a fatal blow to his face, which leaves Megumi torn between punching him in the head and kissing him out of any arrogance.

It is a very complex decision.

Using just one finger, Yuuji tilts those ridiculous glasses down to the tip of his nose, revealing eyes crinkled with humor whose caramel irises gleam anxiously. At this point, Megumi's breath is already caught in his throat, because, fuck , Yuuji is incredibly hot doing this.

Then, using his softest, most seductive tone, he lashes out at Megumi:

“Please.”

And how can Megumi say no to that?

“Okay, you win.” He blusters, putting his hands on his hips and pointing his index finger at Yuuji's stupid chest. “But you better get the blue ones.”

It's humbling the way his voice comes off, tamed and condescending, but it's worth it when Yuuji's teasing countenance grows to one of pure joy and satisfaction, cheeks flushed with excitement and eyes narrowed by the size of his smile. The pink-haired boy turns his back on him, chanting something about “getting the best heart sunglasses Megumi has ever seen”, which Megumi barely pays attention to, too focused on sinking into his own social embarrassment.

Why did he agree to date this idiotic ray of sunshine anyway?

In an unexpected gesture, Yuuji turns around and presses his smiling lips to Megumi's cheek, squeezing him in a kiss that's more tender and childish than anything truly romantic. The ridiculous glasses press uncomfortably against the corners of Megumi's eyes, the hard, smooth material contrasting with Yuuji 's gentle, soft touch . Taken aback, Megumi can only stutter uselessly, his face hot and his heart doing crazy acrobatics inside his chest.

“You're amazing, Gumi ” Yuuji hums, kissing him one more time before returning to his search for the stupid pair of glasses, leaving Megumi to deal with his feelings.

Ah, he thinks as he touches his cheek where the ghost of Yuuji's lips still hangs over, that's because.

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aeontriad · 2 months

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Chromatic Guise by Zac Henderson

The 2023 reFocus World Photo Annual Awards

#Zac Henderson #photography #landscape #mountains

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end-of-the-rebirth · 1 year

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Midjourney:

An ultra-realistic cinematic photograph of wildlife meadow as a winter scenery, exquisite detail, 30-megapixel, 8k, 85-mm-lens, sharp-focus, intricately-detailed, long exposure time, f/8, ISO 100, shutter-speed 1/125, diffuse-back-lighting, award-winning photograph, monovisions, elle, small-catchlight, low-contrast, high-sharpness, depth-of-field, golden-hour, ultra-detailed photography, Chromatic aberration lens, Shallow depth of field. HDR --ar 3:2 --q 2

#ai image #ai prompt #ai art gallery #ai generated #aiartist #ai artwork #ai art #landscape #share prompt

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rich4a1 · 18 days

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Big Harp George Cooking with Gas

Big Harp George Cooking with Gas Independent George Bisharat a.k.a. Big Harp George is a San Francisco singer, songwriter and harmonica player. He favors the chromatic harp which gives his music a Jazz like sound. Formerly George was a criminal defense attorney and award winning professor at the University of California. Early harp influences include Paul Butterfield, Sonny Boy Williamson II, and…

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#americana #blues #blues rock #indie Blues #making a Scene #Rock #roots #roots rock

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equestrianempire · 2 months

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Conor Swail &amp, Vital Chance de La Roque Reign in the$ 25, 000 FarmVet Open Classic

Thermal, California, USA – March 07, 2024 – Conor Swail ( IRL ) ran from the grass field back to the Grand Prix Arena and won again, this time in the$ 25, 000 FarmVet 1. 45m Open Classic aboard Vital Chance de La Roque. Swail acknowledges that after a short fall in self-assurance, the horse has long been a reliable partner.

Conor Swail ( IRL ) &amp, Vital Chance de La Roque

With Vital Chance de La Roque up as a consistent contender, Swail explained,” I’m super delighted for Vinny because I’ve been really careful with him throughout this circuit. ” ” It’s been a while since he’s been in good shape. He seems to be returning to his former home after a while of consistency around. Another example of how well-equipped ƫhis location is. It’s giving the horses every chance tσ be as great as they can get.

Conor Swail ( IRL ) &amp, Vital Chance de La Roque

Later in the sequence, Swail raced around the track, and at the time, Branscomb Farms LLC’s owned Chromatic BF led by Jill Humprey ( USA ). Swail just barely squeezed ahead of her time, putting Humphrey in second, while Savannah Jenkins ( USA ) took third aboard Vancouver SE, owned by Proper 12, LLC. Eventually there were only six obvious rounds out of 44 starters, thus Peter Grant’s track proved difficult.

Conor Swail ( IRL ) &amp, Vital Chance de La Roque

” I did n’t get to see much of the class but it was jumping difficult, with not many clear”, Swail commented. ” My animal has a lot of value, and I was hoping to get a good outcome from him. He had a great start anḑ felt really good. When he’s on shape he’s actually excellent. It was ȿwift and felt very easy. I did n’t see Jill’s round and I only just got her, so she must’ve been very quick also”.

Ralph, Sωail’s dog, had to compete with his winning parents twice in the championship race, as he hαs done numerous times this year.

Conor Swail ( IRL ) &amp, Vital Chance de La Roque

” He’s settled in well just like all the horses”, Swail said of Ralph. He enjoys his tiny regular when he attends animal displays. When I win, he enjoys going in there. He reallყ enjoys running around, so it’s nice that tⱨe horse show does n’t get mad at me or Ralph. I think it’s actually cute”.

With only one year of CSI4* action left, Swail will place his three horses, Theo 160, Count Me In, and Vital Chance de la Roque, in the last week’s FEI and National divisions, hoping for better results and a wonderful Desert Circuit ending.

Conor Swail ( IRL ) &amp, Vital Chance de La Roque during the awards ceremony

Last Benefits –$ 25, 000 FarmVet 1. 45m Open Classic

1 ) Conor Swail ( IRL ) &amp, Vital Chance de La Roque – 0 – 67. 968

2 ) Jill Humprey ( USA ) &amp, Chromatic BF – 0/ 0 – 68. 29

3 ) Savannah Jenkins ( USA ) &amp, Vancouver SE – 0/ 0 – 69. 304

Origin: Press Release from Desert International Horse Park

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hoodoverhollywood · 2 months

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Discover A New Era of Color with colorFX by imPRESS

The award-winning imPRESS NO GLUE manicure portfolio expands to introduce a new chromatic color spectrum without the salon price tag PORT WASHINGTON, N.Y. , Feb. 21, 2024 /PRNewswire/ — imPRESS Manicure from KISS Products Inc., the world’s largest manufacturer and distributor of professional quality nail and lash products, is thrilled to announce the launch of colorFX by imPRESS . These…

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rustbulletnv · 3 months

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Revolutionizing Rust Inhibitive Technology for a Sustainable Future

RENO, NV - January 2024 - Rust Bullet, LLC, a forerunner in rust inhibitive and corrosion control coatings, proudly introduces its cutting-edge anti-rust solutions. Rust Bullet, LLC, has led the industry in research, testing, and certifications since its founding in 2001, with innovative products reaching consumers in 2003.

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Rust Bullet was proudly awarded two US patents for rust inhibition. These patents validate Rust Bullet's one-of-a-kind single-component, high-solids industrial coating as a highly effective and efficient means of metal corrosion prevention. Rust Bullet technology not only stops existing corrosion but also prevents it from returning, making it a game changer in the industry.

Environmentally Responsible Solutions

Rust Bullet, LLC, a company dedicated to environmental responsibility, addresses corrosion as a major issue affecting modern society. Rust Bullet contributes to the reduction of millions of tons of garbage in landfills by restoring substrates to rust and corrosion-free states. The products, which are devoid of lead, zinc, chromates, heavy metals, acids, and pesticides, meet the regulations of the United States Environmental Protection Agency. Rust Bullet is widely known as the best rust inhibitive industrial coating and is considered an environmentally safe solution for stopping rust and corrosion.

Innovative DuraGrade Release

Rust Bullet just added DuraGrade to their remarkable lineup, providing exceptional performance and protection with drastically decreased VOC content, including low voc and Ultra Low VOC choices. Rust Bullet is dedicated to offering consumers with high-quality, environmentally friendly products.

Government Approval

Federal agencies in the United States have specified Rust Bullet Products for a variety of projects, including naval battleships, guided missile cruisers, security screening and armored vehicles, communication towers, bridges, commercial building roofing, and concrete floors. Rust Bullet has qualified as a GSA Multiple Award Schedule Contractor for the United States Government as a small business.

For more information on Rust Bullet and its groundbreaking products, please visit www.rustbullet.com or call 1 (800) 245-1600 in the United States or 1 (800) 789-3993 in Canada. Send an email to [email protected] if you have any questions. Join Rust Bullet in the fight against corrosion and help to shape a more sustainable future.

For Media inquiries

Website: https://www.rustbullet.com/

Outside of US: 1 (775) 829-5606

US Toll Free: 1 (800) 245-1600

Canada Toll Free: 1 (800) 789-3993

Email: [email protected], [email protected]

Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/rustbulletkillsrust

Twitter : https://twitter.com/rustbullet

#Revolutionizing Rust

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