The Thai Communal Wardrobe item #3

Don't Say No ep 5:

Bad Buddy ep 5:

Enchanté ep 10:

Even Sun ep 6:

Vice Versa ep 8:

The Eclipse ep 8:

The Eclipse ep 11:

A Boss and a Babe ep 4:

My Dear Gangster Oppa ep 3:

Middleman's Love ep 1:

Operation Stash-Down

This post was originally published on my blog: https://garaksapprentice.blogspot.com/2024/01/operation-stash-down.html

***

Last month, I spent a week thoroughly cleaning and reorganising my workroom so that I could actually get to all the shelves, and not have my back to the door. I even made space to fit a skinny bookshelf (I can finally have all my books out where I can reach them. It's been more than seven years since that last happened).

Last week, I watched one of my favourite YouTubers issue their now-annual "January is for working on The Pile" challenge. I considered my Piles (what a phrase) and decided this was an excellent use for the rest of January. I went through the mending pile, adding and subtracting as necessary, and updated the running list I keep of the things in there (it's the only way to stop things from disappearing into the aether). I tidied up the cabbage patch, taking the opportunity to go through a few boxes that were stored outside the workroom and sort their contents into piles.

Yesterday, I looked around my workroom (it had once again gone from clean and tidy with actual floor space, to One Big Trip Hazard within half a day), and decided that I have too much bloody stuff.

This was almost completely clear twelve hours ago. L-R, T-B: for coleslaw (green), cabbage once deconstructed (yellow), actual recycling (blue), and rag rug bits (red).

More specifically, I have too many supplies. Despite spending the last two years cleaning and decluttering and KonMari-ing and making a concerted effort to start with what I have before I go shopping for new stuff, I still have overflow.

There's an entire garage shelf in what is technically the spare bedroom (in reality it's my partner's room - they have their own place, but I have air conditioning and they don't) full of knitting yarn, embroidery supplies, and fleeces. There's more fleeces and some sewing notions on top of a bookshelf, and a couple more boxes of knitting yarn on a different bookshelf. To top it all off, there's a whopping monster of a raw wool fleece in the back room.

And, to be clear, this is all stuff left after multiple decluttering rounds. This is all stuff that I absolutely fucking love and have no desire whatsoever to part with. I just... haven't got around to using it yet.

Me when I go through my stash nowadays.

Even though I buy 95+% of my supplies second-hand (between the guild and the plethora of local op shops, I'm remarkably spoiled), I'm still not using things as fast as I'm capable of buying them. Saving things from landfill to repurpose later only works if I actually use the things I'm saving. (Yes, I still need this reminder. Frequently.)

Thus were the seeds from which Operation Stash-down was born.

The Goal

I want to fit all my fibre supplies in my workroom. Every. Single. Thing.

That means all the:

knitting yarn

fabric (stash AND scraps)

embroidery supplies

sewing notions

fleece

weaving, sewing, and spinning tools

leatherworking tools and supplies

whatever other random fibre-related gubbins I pick up along the way

The only exception is for things that need a more controlled climate than my workroom. It's on the western side of the house, with a window in said western wall, and it regularly gets above 30ºC in there during summer. So if I end up with any dyes or other heat-sensitive chemicals, I'll have to find a cooler spot for them.

The Plan

Donating, giving away, and selling things are all options. But that hasn't made a much of a dent the last six times I went through The Stash, so I'm not counting on it doing much this time, either. No, the thing I need to concentrate on right now is using the stash.

So instead of my current "shop the stash then go buy what I need when I don't have it in there", my standard needs to shift to "ONLY use stash things, and if they won't work with what I've planned, change the plan".

How does this translate to actual, practical projects for the year?

Longer warps, and more of them on the floor loom. Lately I've been defaulting to inkle bands, because they're 1) fun, 2) fast, and 3) easy to do in all sorts of cool colour combinations. But they don't use a lot of material - I could weave nothing but narrow wares for the rest of my life and still have yarn left over. And I want to start weaving clothing yardage anyway, so this is a good kick in the pants to actually do it.

Stop putting off those patchwork projects. I have a couple of big ideas I've been procrastinating on for a few years now. Sure, they'll probably take multiple years each to finish, and I'm not sure if I even have enough scrap for one of them (a crazy patchwork coat from all the wrap scrap I've been holding onto), but I won't know unless I actually take the time to start working on them.

Scour more fleece. Out of all the spinning stash, the raw fleeces take up by far the most room. Prepping them to spin might not reduce their volume by much, but actually being able to spin them sure will. (Unfortunately, this strategy will require equipment purchasing. My hand cards aren't fine enough to use with some of the fleeces I have.)

Obviously just doing any project at all will help reduce stash levels, too. Some of the things on my list will make a bigger impact than others, though, and I'm going to try to focus on doing those first. (After I've started to reduce the current WIPs, of course. My 2024 goals are still in effect.)

If all goes to plan, I'll update every few months with progress. Maybe even before and after pictures.

***

If you like my stuff, please consider throwing me a few dollars on my Ko-Fi in support.

Days 19/20 – Tuesday/Wednesday, 13-14 June

Tuesday

After breakfast, we spent all day in our room until about 6pm. We did some washing, some reorganising, sorting and editing photos, and writing for our blogs during the day. We had a light lunch in the room but went out for a walk late in the day, down as close as we could get to the harbour (you really can’t get very close) and sat at a quiet outdoor cafe, nursing a couple of drinks for an hour or so.

We had a very interesting conversation, mainly about our travels - the great experiences we have enjoyed, the exotic places we have explored, what our future commitments, aspirations and expectations were, and a bit of a review of our recent bus trip.

We concluded that neither of us had any wish to join another group tour (although we were still reasonably enthusiastic about the next six trips already organised or planned) – but certainly no more bus trips after the upcoming one.  We simply much prefer the freedom of doing it on our own, with no obligation to fit in with the wishes and schedules of those with whom we have to travel. We probably enjoy some company sometimes, but prefer to choose our own companions, with similar hopes and passions as ours, rather than an unknown cohort with whom we often have very little in common.

We also decided that international travel is quite stressful and entails a lot of hard work. Language is often a challenge, as are currency exchange complications. Local practices and customs (including the iniquitous, almost mandatory, practice of tipping) are often difficult to understand and comply with, and being on the move so frequently and encountering these differences day to day, is pretty confronting. It is so much easier when travelling domestically (or in places like NZ or perhaps even Southeast Asia) - or perhaps surprisingly, in places like the Arctic/Antarctic or South America where foreigners like us are seen as oddly different and to be accommodated, instead of us having to accommodate the disparate plethora of people who demand that we comply with their random and exotic expectations. I know this sounds a bit odd, but Europe seems much more challenging than any of our other meanderings.

I am itching to get away in our caravan, perhaps doing a long, notably slower excursion, with Tassie being one of our preferred places to visit. A campervan in NZ is also high on my hit-list, but fitting this in between our existing commitments is a bit daunting.

After our drinks and travel analysis, we strolled a bit further up the street and settled on one of many al fresco restaurants for dinner. We restrained ourselves in the face of a huge and tempting menu and arrived back at our hotel ready for bed at about 11pm.

Wednesday

We are gradually catching up with our laundry and did a little more before a latish breakfast. We had purchased tickets for the HOHO (hop on hop off) bus last night so set off just a minute too late to catch the 10am bus a couple of blocks away. Our tickets allowed us to hoho the Red-, Green- and Blue-lines for 24 hours so we started with the Red-line. The circuit took about an hour, but rain was threatening so we spent most of the time in the bus, rather in the open upstairs. The windows were pretty dirty and are largely covered with advertising so it is almost impossible to take useful photos when downstairs. I can’t imagine how stupid the designer must have been, plastering advertising on all the windows of a tourist bus with seats positioned higgledy-piggledy, half facing backwards, with only a single seat anywhere having a reasonably clear view.  And then someone has plastered dozens of small stickers on the inside of the windows telling people not to stand up, to keep their seat-belts fastened and other instructions in Italian.

When we arrived back at the starting point, the weather was looking a little more promising, so we boarded the Green-line bus for a shorter circuit into the centre of the city. It was very interesting, so we decided to stay on the bus and complete the Green circuit again. Unfortunately, we didn’t get far. The street we had driven along less than half an hour earlier was now closed with police cars, police people, and what might have been a SWAT team, preventing further progress. We never found out exactly what the problem was, but I gather it was some sort of emergency incident at the bank just in front of us. A bank robbery???

We still wanted to go on the Blue-line, but it wasn’t leaving for a while so we had lunch at a little cafe beside the bus stop - a slice of pizza, very fresh and tasty.

The Blue-line bus driver seemed to find every pothole in Palermo within the first couple of hundred metres and we were rocked and rolled mercilessly, with a bit of rain making matters worse and the limitations of the downstairs section making it pretty pointless so we got off after about five stops and retreated to a restaurant for a drink - and as an excuse to use their toilet. After twenty minutes or so, and after hailing waiters at least half a dozen times, they finally took our order. Half an hour later, we stood up to leave, just as our drinks were finally delivered. They were fairly busy, but we were certainly being ignored because we just wanted drinks rather than an expensive meal. We did not leave a tip!

We walked across the road to take some photos of the impressive Teatro Massimo while waiting for the next bus and became surrounded by a wedding party. It seems that the wedding had just been completed and the couple and all their guests were milling around for photos. We finally escaped when a Red-line bus arrived to take us back to the starting point.

Once there, we still wanted to do the Blue-line, preferably with a better driver, and were ushered on to what we were told was the Blue-line bus. Oh well, I am colour-blind too. It was another Red-line bus, but we enjoyed the ride - on the top deck this time.

At the end of the circuit, there definitely was a Blue-line bus waiting and we decided to chance it again, albeit with the same driver. We completed the circuit this time, but more than half of it was downstairs because the rain was more persistent by now - also, the ride was a little less bruising in the lower section of the bus.

So our HOHO ticket gave us about two-and-a-half Red-line circuits and one-and-a-half circuits on each of the Blue- and Green-lines. We saw a lot of Palermo. Unfortunately, although we saw a lot and there were stories to go with many of the things we saw, none of them were sufficiently engrossing (or memorable) for me to relate here.

@serinemolecule asked me for hot takes on this 2006 article on Argentinian food, which I am now reorganising into a proper post for y'all's consumption. you're welcome.

First of all: the titular thesis that you should eat two steaks a day. I am forced to clarify that as 'should's go you should eat zero steaks a day, but this is ethical rather dietary advice and I don't follow it as well as I should, so, y'know. I would engage with this on the level it was stated, but I actually have no opinion on it. Moving on...

Argentine beef really is extraordinary. Almost all of this has to do with how the cows are raised. There are no factory feedlots in Argentina; the animals still eat pampas grass their whole lives, in open pasture, and not the chicken droppings and feathers mixed with corn that pass for animal feed in the United States.

This is, as it happens, completely false. There absolutely is plenty of feedlot beef being eaten in Argentina, and this was also the case back when this article was written. There's grass-fed beef too, and maybe the writer structured their life around only eating those, but the claim that there are no feedlots is just not true.

if you let them make the call, you get a two-inch thick of meat[...]The Argentine steak stands alone, towering three inches over the plate,[...]This gorgeous specimen is called a lomito; it's a standard lunchtime steak, clearly so thin that the Argentines are embarrassed to send it out into the world without a protective wrapping of ham and cheese

I have no idea what their obsession with steak thickness is; meat exists at various levels of thick and thin to suit various tastes. If you like yours thick that's fine but quit the projecting, y'know.

As you might expect, vegetarians will have a somewhat rough time here. For most people in Argentina, a vegetarian is something you eat. One's diet will accordingly lean heavily on pastas, gnocchi, salads, and (for the less squeamish ) fish. Vegans will not survive in Argentina.

This is, unfortunately, true (well, hyperbole, but). Rinna had a rather bad time trying to find vegan food when fae came over for visits. The situation is improving slowly, at least.

The homemade cookies bought in the minimarket downstairs taste of steak. [picture of alfajores de maicena[

Jesus. Find somewhere better to buy your snacks.

It should be no surprise that the land of beef also has excellent milk and butter. The milk comes in plastic bags that would give any American marketing department a heart attack. They proudly advertise "GUARANTEED 100% BRUCELLOSIS AND HOOF-AND-MOUTH FREE". One brand even brags that its bacteria count never exceeds 100,000 per mL, and prints daily statistics to prove it (only 82,000 bacteria/mL on Monday! mmm!).

Are you under the impression American milk doesn't contain bacteria and that when it spoils it's because of the molecules' sheer willpower? Or do you just object to the reminder that they exist?

This menu is delicious, but with rare exceptions it is all you are going to get. People coming for more than a few weeks are advised to bring a discreet bottle of Tabasco sauce.

Eat at better restaurants.

With any order from the master menu comes the Bread Basket, which should be treated as you would treat a basket of wax fruit, that is, as a purely decorative ornament. It is considered bad form to actually eat anything from Bread Basket

What are you talking about. Do all your dining companions just suck, eat some bread.

Dulce de leche is a culinary cry for help. It says "save us, we are baffled and alone in the kitchen, we don't know what to do for dessert and we're going to boil condensed milk and sugar together until help arrives". This cloying dessert tar is so impossibly sweet that you wish you were ten years old again, just so you could actually enjoy it. It is everywhere. There is a special dulce de leche shelf in the supermarket dairy case, and the containers go up to a liter in size. Even the churros are stuffed with it - the churros, Montresor!

It is rare that I feel insulted for the sake of my country, but this? How dare you.

Yes, of course we fill churros with dulce de leche; the real question is why anyone doesn't, short of dietary restrictions. Finding out that people do otherwise was like learning that in other countries, "sandwich" just means two slices of bread. Live a little. Eat a real godsdamned churro.

I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how meals work in Argentina, and they remain a mystery to me. Dinner is clear enough: people tend to go to restaurants beginning at ten o'clock (for those with small children), with the main rush around eleven, and dinner is pretty much over at one or so in the morning. And breakfast - or rather, its absence - follows as a logical consequence of eating a steak the size of a beagle at midnight. But I have yet to figure out whether people eat some kind of meal in the afternoon, and if so, when.

At... noon? Like. We eat lunch. Usually somewhere around 12:00. I am eating lunch right now, and I have done so essentially every day of my life. This is just baffling.

I've come to think the culprit in the missing Argentine lunch scene is yerba mate.

how.

Where the ignorant foreigner may see just another kind of herbal tea (yerba mate is a very unassuming shrub that grows in the northern parts of the country) the Argentine sees a taste treat of unimaginable subtlety, and a tonic for all his problems. The Wikipedia article on proper mate preparation should give you a warning of the level of obsessiveness attainable here (the Urugayans are even worse). To the virgin palate, mate tastes like green tea mixed with grass clippings. The beverage is traditionally drunk out of a little gourd, through a metal straw called a bombilla, with hot (but not boiling!!) water poured into it (without wetting the surface!! clockwise!!) from a thermos.

Yeah, this is accurate. Well, not the clockwise part, never heard anyone complain about that and I can't imagine it mattering.

What distinguishes mate from coffee and tea is the social context - two or more people share a gourd, with a designated pourer in charge of refilling it with hot water after each turn. The ritual is low-fuss but indispensible. You can buy mate gourds and thermoses in any grocery store, and get your thermos filled with hot water at any convenience store or gas station, but you will never see mate served in restaurants or sold in little disposable paper gourds, to go. it's not that people refuse to drink mate alone - anyone working a solitary shift will have a gourd in hand - but that the concept of being served mate by someone who does not share it with you seems impossible.

This is also true. Attempts have been made to sell to-go mate but it's never very popular, the social ritual is important. Also unfortunately a disease vector, I haven't had any mate in a year and a half.

Mate aficionados will tell you that mate contains a special compound, mateine, that serves as a tonic and mild stimulant, promoting alertness without making it hard to sleep, reducing fatigue and appetite, helping the digestion and serving as a mild diuretic. Scientists will tell you that mateine bears a suspicious resemblance to a chemical called caffeine. Mate aficionados will then grow indignant, explaining that mateine is really a stereoisomer (mirror image) of caffeine, with different effects, which will in turn irritate the scientists, who will snap that caffeine doesn't have a chiral center, so it can't have a distinguishable mirror image, and why don't the mate aficionados just put a sock in it.

The first part of this is true; some people definitely think "mateine" is different from caffeine and it absolutely isn't. Never heard the stereoisomer claim before but googling it does confirm some people say so.

still have no idea what any of this has to do with lunch, though. I promise you nobody skips lunch because mate is just too filling.

The wine here is very good (something has to stand up to that steak), but Argentina has no liquor to call its own, relying on whiskies like Old Smuggler and the low-maintenance Don Juan cognac to carry the flag.

There's a fundamental omission from this list and it's called fernet.

Beer is ubiquitous and comes in a bewildering variety of sizes, although there is a skittishness about the full-on liter. Things level off at 970 mL. In my case, it means I end up drinking 1940 mL of beer as a kind of personal protest, and all is well with the world. To make up for the abundance of sizes, beer comes in only one variety, Quilmes, which inevitably comes served with a tripartite platter of snacks - nuts, salty cylinders, and aged potato chips.

I never had trouble buying beer by the litre, but I confess I never tried to do so in 2006 on account of being under 18 at the time.

Anyway, beer comes in a lot more varieties today, thankfully, because Quilmes sucks. I'll never be a beer person, but at least these days there's options I tolerate.

[original post]

100 days of productivity- day 7/100 (04/07/21)

Today felt like the perfect Sunday:

Did a quick morning yoga session

Duoligno Spanish and German

Spent some time reorganising the jumble of notes I had on my notes app, and sorted them out into multiple lists. Most are to do with summer goals and plans, so have narrowed down into academic / sports / activities

Also tried my hand at adapting some notion templates for my course. I’m not quite sold on it yet, but keen to give it a go as people seem to love it! Will update once I’ve found my bearings

The afternoon was spent was family celebrating a birthday, which ended with a meal out

The pub felt so cosy, lovely to have a glass of wind indoors surrounded by chatter with the sound of rain outside

Pink Drink Of Death ~ MYG [Request]

↱↱↱Word Count: 957

↱↱↱Genre: Fluffy, with crack?

↱↱↱Pairing: Min yoongi x reader

↱↱↱A/N: I hope this is alright for you love I’m sorry it’s short!!

Having a 24 hour Starbucks open near was one of the best things to happen to you, one of, the other was being able to date one of the most incredible men you'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. Mr Min Yoongi. Who had been locked away in his studio for the last two nights, it was starting to get to you. Normally you wouldn't mind but you'd missed him and he had only just gotten back from tour.

"Thank you, enjoy your night." You said to the Starbucks worker as you took your drink and Yoongi's out towards your car if he was going to lock himself away in his tall tower you were going to have to be the Flynn Ryder of the relationship and rescue him...Also, pray that he didn't hit you with an 8lbs skillet...Come to think of it how was Flynn even alive you shook your head at how easily distracted you were and got into the car to start driving to the BigHit building.

"Hi Kirk," You greeted as you walked past one of the night security who'd known you years,

"Evening!" He called back and you smiled getting into the lift while holding your drinks, you sucked on your teeth while you waited to ascend to the top floor. You were dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and one of Yoongi's shirts so you were glad it was the middle of the night instead of the day time where everyone could see you like this.

You hit your anniversary date into the keypad - whoever said he wasn't romantic, such a cutie pie - and walked into the studio to see Yoongi hunched over at the desk with a pair of large headphones over his ears. You walked over to him and started rubbing his shoulders,

"Mmm, Hi." He greeted taking off the headphones and smiling up at you, you kissed his lips like in the scene from spiderman only less wet and less gross.

"Hi, I brought you a coffee. Metal straws?" He gestured over into the corner of the room where his shelves were and you walked over to them, finding the straws you'd gotten him in a pen pot.

"I really want to reorganise your studio," You groaned, always joking to him that he was so unorganised that if he didn't have his head screwed on tight enough he would lose it in there. The place itself was tidy but the way he had things organised just annoyed you,

"Here," You handed him the straws and began rearranging the pen pots, moving pens in with real pens and moving metal straws and chopsticks into their own pot to be together. You'd spent an entire night once organising every single CD he had in there, putting everything into the right CD case before putting them in alphabetical order only for Jungkook to mess it all up again months later.

"I thought I told you-"

"Ah what the fuck?" You span around thinking he'd hurt himself by the sound of his voice, he sounded as though someone had just punched him in the face or had badly insulted him but when you turned around he had your drink in his hand and his face was screwed up. You bit on your lip to suppress the giggle that was trying to explode out of you, he began smacking his lips together as if that would somehow get the taste out of his mouth but it only made it harder for you not to laugh.

"What is that?!" He yelled wiping his mouth and then reaching for his own black coffee.

"A pink drink," You giggled, he knew you'd never been a fan of coffee because it was a bitter taste for you but he never thought you'd drink something so sweet it tasted like straight sugar.

"The pink drink of death! How do you drink that? It tastes like rainbows and puppies."

"You know what rainbows and puppies taste like?" You raised your eyebrow at him and he groaned at you, glancing at the time then back to your face,

"It's 3 in the morning what are you even doing here? Or are you too hyped up on that thing?" You shrugged your shoulders and sat down on the cool leather sofa at the back of his studio,

"I can't sleep without you and it's not even that bad, it just has acai berry tea, white grape juice, boiling water, coconut milk, strawberries and agave nectar."  He stared at you while you listed out the ingredients,

"I'm going to be really disturbed if I find out you can make that at home..."

"Then I will keep my mouth shut," He chuckled softly at you and locked up his computer, he got up from his chair and held out his hand for you.

"Come on, we're going home." You smiled and took his hand in yours, it wasn't the mission to get him to come home. You would have stayed there all night if he wanted to keep working but you were glad he wanted to go home and get some rest.

"It's still the pink drink of death." He mumbled as you got into the elevator together, you stared at him and took a large sip of the drink.

"Tastes better than the black iced coffee you always order." You playfully started bickering back and forth until he kissed your lips to stop you from arguing back with him.

"Ugh even your lips taste like it," You smirked as you stepped out of the elevator,

"I will convert you to my pink drink ways." You teased as you dragged him out to where you had parked the car.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @fan-ati--c @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​

💕 Love Day Love Story Series 💕

Francisco & Zoe

How did you meet?

[F] “I grew up in a conservative, military household with my father enlisting before he married my mother, so my brother and I were born into the lifestyle. Because we moved every few years, it was easier for my mother to homeschool us so that our education wasn’t disturbed by the constant change in schooling systems and curriculums. Both of my parents are people of faith, so wherever we moved we’d always find a church to go to that was in line with our beliefs, and my mother made it a point for our homeschooling curriculum to be religious based rather than secular based so that we got the best education possible. When I was in highschool we moved to Strangerville permanently for my father’s work, he was promoted and therefore would be working at headquarters with other high ranking officers - this made it easier for me to make up my mind on whether I wanted to enlist because I’d been going to summer camp style trainings in Strangerville that helped me realise my want to serve, so I enlisted right out of highschool. After bootcamp, my first orders were in Strangerville so I was able to live at home with my parents for the first few years and when it came time for re-enlistment, I ended up getting deployed out to a base that sits just outside Newcrest for a short assignment. Once I’d found a place to stay in Newcrest (my rank meant I could live off base) I set about finding a church to attend. I'd heard great things from Newcrest Baptist from others in previous churches we attended so I thought I’d give it a go. That first service when the choir was singing, the lead singer caught my eye - my mother had started to badger me about starting to settle down “while I was still young” so I guess the thought was constantly lingering in the back of my head. After the service is when I learnt that Zoe was the lead singer for the service, she came up to me and introduced herself along with some of her cousins after she heard I was new to the area and didn’t know anybody. They essentially formed a welcoming committee and spent their time making sure that every day off I had was full of fellowship and fun; This also helped me to get to know Zoe more, she was slightly older than some of the other girls there and I admired her personality - I eventually realised that I wanted to take the relationship further than friendship, but first I wanted her to meet my family. 

That chance came when her cousin Brittany had this fundraiser event in Windenburg, we found out that we had friends in common in the Dahlmanns - my father was friendly with Warren and supported his campaign whenever he could, and Zoe’s cousin was dating Colton (they even got engaged that same night) The fundraiser was great because our families got to meet one another and get to know each other, my parents loved Zoe and encouraged me to pursue a courtship and thankfully I was able to ask her dad if Zoe and I could start a courtship once we got back, which he agreed to. A couple of months into our courtship we found out that I was being reassigned to a post out in the desert near Oasis Springs, and I knew that I didn’t want to leave without Zoe by my side as it would be so hard to meet whilst I was away - so I asked her father if I could propose which he agreed to. I’d heard about this new botanical gardens that had opened up in Willowcreek, and I needed to head there to fix some of my paperwork and after seeing pictures I thought it would be the perfect place to propose, so asked Zoe if she wanted to come with me on the premise of me getting paperwork done while I was there. Macie came as our chaperone, and I dropped them off at her sister Adalynn’s house whilst I set things up at the gardens, and get my paperwork done. The proposal went off without a hitch, because I suggested a picnic at the gardens, she didn’t think it weird that we went there and Macie’s job (other than chaperoning) was telling us to pose for a picture together so I could get in position to propose. Zoe was a flurry in planning the wedding, the whole ride home from Willowcreek she and Macie had already began planning, I couldn’t help with the planning much due to work stuff so she was a powerhouse in getting things done in such a short time as we wanted to be married before I had to move.”

[Z] “I grew up the 4th child of 13, so I had a lot of responsibility as I grew up. My parents named me after my grandmother, and I always try and be loving and kind in the way that she was by always trying to do something to make someone elses life easier. As kids my parents made sure we all learnt how to play an instrument, so I learnt piano and guitar but singing is what I found to be the most fun for me. Over the years we’d travel to Family Bible Camp or political rallies and I loved getting to sing with a group, eventually I joined the choir at church and progressed to the lead singer. Everyone at home used to tease me for singing all the time, my buddy group had Reece, Beckett, and Amira in it and when I’d do their school with them I would help them make up songs to as we worked through their textbooks, so our corner of the ‘school room’ was always filled with song. As I got older I started working more on writing music, but as my older siblings got married and chores got redistributed I had to reorganise my priorities, but thankfully I was still able to work on my music.

I first saw Francisco when he visited our church for the first time, I was singing with the choir and had led the singing for a few songs, so he noticed me before I noticed him. After the service I was hearing all this flurry from the girls at church about how this new military guy was attending with us now, and how handsome he was and all the other things that come with a man in uniform [laughs] In my mind, all I was thinking of was how he was new to the area and knew nobody, so I wrangled together some of my cousins and we made sure to make him feel welcome. Over time as we hung out, I realised why all the girls had their feathers ruffled, but since I was older than a few of the girls there I assumed I wouldn't be the target audience of his attentions should it come to that. My mother always said that us girls should pray for our future husband and have certain qualities in mind that we wanted for a partner, but in that moment I wasn’t thinking about my list - or else I’d have realised that he ticked loads of boxes for me. I made it a point to keep my feelings to myself because I didn’t want to jeopardise our friendship, especially because he wasn’t going to be with us in Newcrest for a long time. Because his schedule was unpredictable at times, most times it was me and like 2 other people spending time with Francisco, which gave us a chance to get to know each other more, and eventually he did bring up talk of the future with me and at that point I told him that I would be happy to (inside I was shrieking) but he’d have to ask my dad. I guess our families meeting at my cousin’s charity benefit helped move things along because when we got back we made things official. A few months after we started courting, Francisco got news that he was being reassigned soon and in my head I’m thinking about how we were going to do long distance for however long before we got married, and when he proposed I truly had no idea that it was coming. He’d asked me if I wanted to come with him to Willowcreek because he had paperwork to do there, he suggested we have a picnic at this new botanical garden that had opened up there and I was all for it since we were trying to spend as much time as possible together. He was so gracious and even dropped Macie and I off at Adalynn’s house to spend some time with her and the boys whilst he fixed his paperwork and set up the picnic for us. When we got to the gardens, everything was so beautiful and we had such a great time, and when Macie told us that she’d take some pictures of us I thought nothing of it and started posing for a picture when all of a sudden Francisco is down on one knee and I’m in tears [laughs] The whole ride home was me calling my mother and making plans for what I wanted for the wedding along with macie on speakerphone, and even though it was a rush the wedding turned out great.”

How have you changed since marriage?

[F] “Our marriage started off with us moving into the desert, and I’m thankful that Zoe is so adaptable because these next few years are going to come with a few changes. Probably the biggest change coming up for us is our son who should be joining us soon, we’ve been rushing to get things done before he gets here. Unfortunately for me, soon after his due date I’ve got a training exercise out in the desert that will take me away for some time, so I’m thankful that Zoe’s sister Macie will come down to stay with her whilst I’m away. My parents also live a few hours drive away in Strangerville, so I’m sure my mother will be able to come down for support whilst I’m away as well.”

[Z] “One thing my sisters and cousins said after getting married is how quiet everything is when you’re in your new house, and I truly get it. Having to only cook and care for 2 (soon to be 3) people rather than working as a team in a house of 15 people was a bit jarring [laughs], and Francisco makes it so easy because he makes his own breakfast as he’s up at dawn! Going from the country where there’s loads of green to the desert where there’s nothing but hot sand was quite a change, but I wouldn’t exchange it for the world. Now that I’m in the final stages of my pregnancy where the only thing we’re left waiting for is baby , I’m excited for this new change and for baby boy to be here already. I’m still making my music, but obviously my priorities are going to be looking a little different for the coming future, and I’m okay with that.”

For @cloudigalaxi who asked: 7 and Grindeldore (from this list). I’ve never written a Grindeldore before, so I hope you will like it :)

-----

You are everything I never knew I always wanted 

The parchments scattered all over the bed moved a little as Albus stretched quietly, trying hard not to make a sound. From his room, he could hear Aberforth's voice as he sang to himself, climbing down the stairs to get some breakfast - the noise of his quick steps made Albus sigh in relief. Now, he was the only Dumbledore on the top floor of the house. 

Licking his lips, Albus turned carefully to lay down on his side, head on one of his arms as he watched the man beside him. 

Gellert and himself had spent the night studying, dreaming and theorising their desired world - stopping every now and then to jest a bit, to tease each other mercifully, to celebrate an exciting discovery or a beautiful idea. Sometimes, Gellert would just smirk and press his finger on one of Albus' cheeks, before carding it through his beard, pulling gently a particular hair on the chin. Other times, Albus would find himself lost in the depths of Gellert's eyes, flushing under that enticing mad twinkle they got. 

Mad - the naked man stretched out on his stomach in front of him was a little mad at times, but most of all Gellert was brilliant. Madness and intelligence always went together, Albus considered himself one of the living examples of that rule. 

A smile found its way on his mouth when Gellert's nose twitched - one of the blonde locks falling on his forehead as a result. How lucky was Albus to have met someone like Gellert Grindelwald? 

«You are staring again, Albus» Gellert's voice said, muffled by the pillow. Albus reached with a hand to tuck behind his ear the long hair that was hiding the man's eye. 

«I can't help it» his reply was whispered, the voice scratching his throat. 

Gellert opened his eyes and looked at him with one of those gazes that made Albus melt right on the spot - letting his hand fall from the man's hair, he ducked his head, looking away for a moment. He heard some of the parchments fall from the bed, as the blonde man shifted so that his body was on his side too. Finding himself looking at Gellert's naked torso, Albus looked up again, searching for the man's face. 

Gellert smirked, as arrogant as ever even if a little sleepy, and brought one of his hands to caress Albus' neck - fingers pressing into the flesh, finding his pulse, scratching lightly along one of the veins. He moved closer as Albus felt his own heartbeat speed up and Gellert's hand going towards his nape, cupping it. 

«You don't know how lucky I am to have you by my side, Albus Dumbledore» his voice was rough, dark with an excitement that Albus knew very well. «I'm looking forward to the world we'll build, to the things we will do together» and now that his mouth was just a breath away from his own, Albus wasn't able to keep track of the things he was saying. «You and I,» Gellert's lips pressed against his, warm and soft, for a chaste kiss that left him inexplicably breathless. «Masters of Death,» he licked Albus' bottom lip, before trapping it in his mouth, sucking on it slowly. «The most powerful wizards in history, freeing - » 

Albus kissed him, interrupting his speech: not that it wasn't important, but he had listened to it enough times to know how it ended. Just when he was losing himself in the kiss, Gellert pulled at his hair, stopping it to resume looking at him. As their eyes met for the longest time, Albus felt the tension building around them, sizzling and making his hair stand up. 

A noise from outside broke the spell and Gellert released his hair, preparing to climb down the bed. 

«Gell,» Albus called out, sitting up and suppressing the frustration as the other wizard accio-ed wordlessly and wandlessly his clothes. 

«I have to go before aunt Bathilda wakes up» he said while getting dressed. «You know how she gets when she can't find me in my room.»

Worried, that's how she got - Albus sighed, falling on his back. 

«Reorganise our notes and meet me at our place, next to the church» Gellert said, then met Albus' resigned look. «Will you cheer up if I'll bring you that Transfiguration's book from Durmstrang?» he asked and the other man couldn't help but to smile a bit. 

«Go away, before I decide to bind you to my bed» Albus said, dismissing him with a movement of his hand. 

«That's one of the quotes with which you'll be remembered in the history books.» 

What kind of books? Albus was about to ask, but the crack of the disapparition let him know he was alone. 

Announcement

Well hello there ~ It’s been a while since my last announcement, and a lot of things happened since September so an update is overdue!

First, I have updated my masterlist. I reorganised it a bit as well, now there is two new categories: Relationships and Events, in order to declutter the categories they were classified in before, and to have an easier time finding posts. I updated my pin post as well, to reflect the current state of my To Do list (since I’ve been slowly clearing it up lately). 

Second, regarding my lack of engagement in the fandom since September, it’s because I am back at working full time, and considering I have a lot of things that are still in a WIP stage, I want to focus on my content first - well, focus on it whenever I have the time and energy to do so. Things have become especially slow in November (”slow” as in “I literally don’t have the time to even check my dash”) because my country was in Sanitary Lockdown 2.0 and I had twice as much work to do IRL as a consequence, which left me very tired and unwilling to use what little would remain of my energy for fandom stuff. As a consequence, while my askbox is open, don’t expect fast replies. I won’t forget about you, but I already have some things to clear out. 

Third, while October had me busy whenever I could to work on the Halloween event, November has been characterised by the acquisition of a drawing tablet. I have greatly enjoyed doing illustrations for the Halloween and Birthday Party events, and wish to keep doing so with my OC content. As such I spent the last ten days (the amount of days passed since I received the tablet) training, because traditional art and digital arts are quite different media and I need to figure things out - especially since I naturally tend to produce black and white pieces, but wish to start working with colours. I’ll be experimenting a lot, so I apologise in advance for the not-super-good art. 

Aaaand that’s all for now! Life has come back to a regular schedule for me, so I’ll have more time to check my dash and post again! 

Reflections on Charmed! 2020

I've tried and failed to write this post several times. And the problem I'm having is that there's that much to talk about I just find myself diving down rabbit holes… let's try again.

Last weekend, I attended my first hypnocon ever, Charmed 2020, and it was glorious. There are so many highlights from it, it's difficult to pick them out, so in brief:

Highlights

Getting to play publicly with my amazing, beautiful play partner, the legendary and fabulous @lizzidoll (@tennfan2 called us "aggressively cute").

Getting to meet Lizzi's circle of friends: @enscenic, @zanydanger, @hypno-sandwich, @theleeallure, @carneggyblog, @tennfan2, @h-sleepingirl, cckitten… the list goes on.

Watching Lizzi's friends, most of whom she's not seen for some time, greet her with such genuine love and affection that it filled my heart with joy and brought tears to my eyes.

Being Lizzi's assistant / handler for the Gallery of Living Art, turning her into a poseable and stunningly attractive doll with a twist for those brave enough to investigate more closely.

Being sung down into trance by @enscenic, Lizzi, @theleeallure and @zanydanger — by far the most intensely beautiful hypnotic induction I've ever experienced, and a wonderful surprise which felt a lot like an initiation ritual.

Watching @zanydanger tie Lizzi in the dungeon in a scene that was so unbelievably fucking hot.

@hypno-sandwich proving that I am very responsive to a spiral drawn in the air in front of my eyes.

Demo-bottoming for Mazirian and Velvetine Rabbit's dual induction class — I was told afterwards that I had a hot trance face, much to Lizzi's agreement.

Trancing with and fractionating Blue Prime, which was a journey for both of us -- and for me, my first time solo-topping with someone other than Lizzi for the first time in far too many years.

Spending a few days post-con decompressing in Baltimore with Lizzi — we can firmly recommend Sullivan's Steakhouse and the Lump Crabcakes at Faidley's in Lexington Market.

What I wish I'd done

I don't know if it was the intensity of the experience, the jet-lag from flying 8.5 hours, or the late nights (most likely a combination of all three) but I spent quite a bit of time sleeping during class times. Next time I'd like to do more classes and less napping. But I love napping, so…

Also, I wish I'd have played with more people. That was partly down to my own insecurity — it was only thanks to Lizzi that I actually tranced with Blue at all — and partly down to the fact that even when I put my search for partners on Discord it was actually pretty difficult for us to find each other. Also, there wasn't really a quiet space to do random trancing in, which would have been nice.

What I learned

Oh, so much. I learned a bit of history, a lot of theory, a huge number of little tricks that I'm dying to try (even second-hand learning: @theleeallure apparently had a genius method for bringing someone all the way out of a deep trance which I'm going to keep in my back pocket).

Most importantly, though, I had it reaffirmed to me that I'm not alone in my weirdness. And that not only am I not alone, but that most of the people who are in this weird and kinky hypnoboat with me are thoroughly delightful human beings, around whom I want to spend more time ere too long.

General Thoughts

Charmed! is a great con, especially for a con newb like me. Sure, there could be some reorganisation of classes to make things a bit easier to access for journey-folk hypnokinksters like yours truly — being able to chop and change between -101 and -201 would have been great, for example. But that's a difficult thing to orchestrate.

Much was made of the new consent policy, which explicitly disallowed CNC play (or at least stated that "CNC is not an excuse in the event of a consent violation). I'm not going to go into that here too much — the ConCom took legal advice and were following it in the best way they could. Some CNC-playing people felt kink-shamed. I didn't, but I can see why people did. As far as I can tell, though, the consent policy didn't cause any actual problems, and was more of a problem in people's minds than in actuality.

What's next.

I'm hoping to attend, along with Lizzi, MindQuake in October/November. I'd love to be able to attend @beguiledcon too, but the chances of that working out are somewhat slimmer.

Friday/Saturday 17-18 July

Friday, 17 July

We stayed around the van all day and did a few minor maintenance jobs as well as effectively reorganising and repacking the car. That was a really big task that took hours, but has resulted in giving us more room inside the car and repositioning things behind the cargo barrier more in line with the frequency with which we are likely to need to use them.

Our hot water system seemed to be playing up and we spent some time investigating that.  For the past year or two, I have been complaining to the people who service the van that there has been an intermittent problem with the gas cylinders, but our testing now seems to have established that the problem has been the HWS all along – it has had difficulty lighting and then staying alight – but only occasionally. When we opened the HWS up, it was caked with maybe a kilo of rich red mud (man, was it gooey?) so I cleaned most of that away and dabbled a little with the gas inlet and it has been much better ever since.  It is well overdue for a service so we will probably have that done before leaving here.

I spent a bit of time writing up my bird list and between all of that, we seemed to fill the day pretty easily.  We went back to our great fish and chip shop in Drouin to buy our dinner and watched more Strange Rock at night.

We always eat very well on the road even if this trip has involved a somewhat different diet.  We have eaten up some of our tinned food that was getting a bit old, but always with fresh veges and other great flavours and textures created by our fabulous travelling Chef.  We have a big car fridge packed to the absolute gunnels with frozen stuff from home (we prepared a lot of meals before embarking on this jaunt - at least 42 meals not counting any cans) but have yet to even open it. We have a full-sized two-door fridge in the van and we are still working our way through some great meals squirreled away in that.

Saturday, 18 July

We finally made it to Tarra Bulga and that was great but we detoured to the Morwell National Park en route.  We did quite a long walk there and it was strangely quiet for much of the 3km walk, but punctuated 3-4 times by the most glorious piercing and raucous calls of Superb Lyrebirds.  We saw no birds of any species at all that I can recall, but the walk was relatively easy and enjoyable with orchids and fungi being more of a focus than birds.

Tarra Bulga offered several walks and we did two, the second of which was effectively a long branch off the first one.  It was really delightful: a little challenging at times, but with a few more birds and lots more fascinating fungi and flowers. We were almost constantly regaled by the extremely loud calls of Pied Currawongs, Magpies, Corellas, Crimson Rosellas, Whipbirds, Black-cockatoos and a multitude of smaller bush-birds – although we saw not a single one.  There were periods of utter silence (almost creepy at times) followed by a cacophony of calls coming from 3 or 4 directions at once, then fading to deathly silence again after a few minutes. We were smart enough to know that we were in a forest full of Superb Lyrebirds all competing for supremacy on The Voice or something similar.  One particular bird kept pace with us in one area and we eventually spied it through the trees and watched it as it came progressively closer, eventually crossing the path just ahead of us and foraging in the leaf litter while we photographed and videoed it.  It was a wonderful experience and we felt privileged to be accorded great views of such a clever song-bird.  When we returned almost to the carpark, we diverted to the second walk to the Suspension Bridge – another beautiful forest walk.  We crossed paths with a bunch of younger people all gasping for breath and wheezing as they climbed back up the steep path to the carpark and we were dreading the climb back ourselves. Interestingly, on our return, I kept telling Heather to take it easy because the steep part was just ahead – but we forged back to the carpark without ever realising that we must already have passed the hard section. Maybe we are not (quite) as unfit as we thought!!!

The Suspension Bridge was interesting enough but Heather wouldn’t let me jump up and down on it – she is a real spoil sport. But at least we saw some other people testing the tensile strength of the cables.  Both walks were only about 3 kilometres but it was quite fascinating and (as is our wont) took us almost 3 hours.  Then it was home in the dark again and another superb meal!

Personal Project

What is it and why?

It’s a combination of things that have made me realised that working on home and more particularly bedrooms and myself would be interesting. I am going to use my own experience of bedrooms as a way to tell stories:, magical stories, dark and light stories. 

I have just finished this book called “the Yellow Wallpaper” that my flatmate has lent me (she is good advice when it comes to books as she’s worked at Glasgow Women’s library) which I highly recommend. I must admit I have really struggled to read. I had to stop after a few pages as it was hard to read: hard to see how this woman trusted her husband’s thoughts about herself more than hers, hard to witness her crave for freedom through mental and physical work -whilst she was advised to rest and do nothing , hard to witness this woman becoming mad, and madness as a last resort against this oppressive, infantilising husband of hers (and brother).

No name woman:

This woman doesn’t have a name, and I think it’s very well done: this isn’t just about her but about all women, them behind the wallpaper, them readers or witness. And so should the woman in my pictures: she shouldn’t have a name, as she could be them all (or part of them).

Bedroom: hate and love

It’s a place of great intimacy and life for most women: birth, sleep, sex, tears, laugh and death. It’s a place, I sometimes seek, and sometimes hate. I wish at times, I could push away the walls of my bedroom to give myself more space for thoughts, more space when I feel constraint in my body, space and time, when I feel limited. Sometimes, I feel the urge of wrecking the place and leave nothing but broken nails and blood.

Other times, magic happens and the place, mostly because of its opening possibilities: windows. I can hear the world from outside and the outside world comes in: that’s a smell from the garden, a cool breeze, night sounds and whispers, a hot summer heat, kids playing in the street, conversation half-heard  from afar. Then, my bedroom becomes a handy place to witness without being seen: hidden behind the walls, I pop my head out the window and find out about what’s happening.

Bed

Bed: that’s a place of assault. That’s a place of anger, and frozen body. That’s a place that let me down and it’s strange how I now get to sleep there too.

Bed: that’s a place of death too. I have seen bodies in bed, resting and being looked at. Close relatives, people who’d died slowly in front of my young eyes. Dying, I’ve learnt, doesn’t necessarily take a last breath. It can take years of last breaths, like an upside-down, dark, growing tree inside of your body.

Approach Essay:

Introduction:

With the recent outbreak of the Coronavirus, I have been trying to reorganise my thoughts and change my idea from shooting in a studio, to shooting wherever I’d be allowed to by the government. It also involved a lot of research towards a project that, realistically speaking, would have be to shot at home. While processing the idea of having to stay home for three weeks, I starting thinking about the broad meaning of home myself. When asking my friends and family what home meant to them, I got a large range of answers such as place of intimacy, residence but also social unit, origin. Most of them related their home to family but also mostly pleasant feelings.

With that in mind, I decided to explore different artist’s work, related to the ‘loose’ idea of home. I took the freedom of including not only photographers but also painters and writers ; mostly anyone whose own definition/work on home would somehow echo my own definition. I also kept in mind that shooting a project at home, with less material than usual would be more challenging and require more creativity from me. Therefore, this list of artists does not just include people working around the idea of home, but also artists whose techniques and composition seemed relevant and useful to me in order to help me grow a strong and powerful project.

I) Freedom of space and movement: Exploring techniques in photography

Francesca Woodman (1958-1981). She was an American photographer whose parents were both artists and professors at the Department of Art at the University of Colorado. She was surrounded with Art and artists and starting taking pictures at the age of 13. She also spent her Junior Year in Rome, Italy, where she frequented the Maldoror bookshop-gallery, that specialised in Surrealism. She committed suicide at the age of 22. Her artwork is mostly self-representation, as she explained “It’s a matter of convenience, I’m always available.” As noted by Jui-Ch’ i Liu in her essay on Francesca Woodman’s self-Images (Transforming bodies in the space of Feminity)

“The theme of Elusive Space, absorbed into a nostalgic space, is central to Woodman’s self-representation. [… For example,] in house #3, from her House series, Woodman displays herself in a transformational state. She is curled in a foetal position under a window frame […]. She hides behind the peeling sheets of wallpaper picked up from the pieces of debris scattered on the floor. These effects make her disappear into the wall.” (p.26)

 Strangely enough, several specialists have linked Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s short story “The Yellow Wallpaper” (1892) to Woodman’s work. Themes such as madness, physical restriction and woman’s space in the household seem to be central in both artists’ work. The setting of most of the images I looked at were in what seemed to be an abandoned place. Although most pictures seemed to be shot ‘inside’, I felt that somehow, the space itself remained very open and bright (windows, light, fireplace, mirrors), almost ‘breathing’. She uses long-exposure, movement and composition in a very free manner. At times, I couldn’t understand if the picture was taken whilst she was attempting to merge with the house itself or whilst she was hiding herself.  

From looking at her pictures, I could sense the need and search of physical but also mental freedom, refusal of constraints in the framing through the choice of space and movement in her shots. It’s also interesting to note that she uses time (for instance in the length of her exposure, time of the day but also investing her own personal time) to explore freedom.  The construction of her photographic techniques (long exposure, use of light, props, space, movement and time) invites us not only ‘chase her’ almost physically and mentally (where is the model going? What does she want to say?) but also perhaps to pause and reflect on our own physical and inner boundaries: how do we access the content of the picture  both in terms of visibility (elements of the picture we can physically see or not) and understanding (elements of the picture we need to process and analyse in order to understand what she means).

II) Women and home

Satu Haavisto (1975 -) and Aino Kannisto (1973 - ). Delicate Demons is a collaborative, ongoing project between two Finnish photographers (Satu Haavisto and Aino Kannisto) who have made a series of photos staging women in domestic spaces. Although the shots are fictional and models play a part, some aspects of the pictures might resonate with most women’s experience of womanhood at different ages and moments in their life. I was impressed at how they’d chosen to depict women in very normal, almost dull and/or ‘embarrassing’ moments of their everyday life: getting dressed, washing the dishes, breastfeeding…

In her article for the British Journal of Photography, Clare Gallagher describes Space in the pictures as:

“[…] tight, with a room corner in most of the scenes, compressing the viewer and the subject into an uncomfortably proximal relationship and emphasising the sense of home as a potentially oppressive place.”

All throughout the series of photos, women always have a strong, intense gaze, expressing what appear to me as anger, sadness, reflection or anxiety.

When describing Woman on the balcony, Clare explains that “her stare out of the frame feels somewhat over-constructed until, with a jolt, we see in a reflection she is in fact gazing directly at the camera. Face on, her look is more vulnerable, more anxious and raw.”

Jo Alison Feiler (1951-): She is an American photographer who was born and successively studied in California at the University of California, at the Art Centre and at the California Institute of Art where she graduated in 1973. Specializing in Gelatine silver prints, she seems to have mostly picked home as a setting to shoot her photos. Most of the prints and photos I have been able to access to are dated back from the mid 70’s and beyond, after she graduated.

     Untitled [Two women, two heater vents], 1975

Untitled, 1973  

Untitled [Nude below Window]

Untitled [nude between 2 beds],US, 1975

I was impressed with the enigmatic aspect of most of her images: nudes or partially nude models, where you can’t see their face. Body position that are mostly lying on the floor or on diverse surfaces, use of horizontals and lines. Movement, unlike Francesca Woodman is rather static apart from the [two women, two heater vents] and show a position of vulnerability and abandon (both as in letting go and giving up). I was also interested in the way she has used windows as a link to the outside world through what we can see and how the scene is lit. Thanks to the Gelatine Silver Prints, her pictures have a high contrast, which accentuates the tension and dramatic effects of her prints.

III) Light and Cinema

As a great admirer of the Italian painter Caravaggio (1571-1610), and more particularly his dramatic composition and use of the chiaroscuro,  I have been delighted to be shown examples of Gregor Crewdson’s photos, which I thought, had a few things in common with Caravaggio’s paintings: the cinematic aspects of it (although when talking about Caravaggio’s paintings, it would be anachronistic), the use of darkness, light and shadows within their frame, the tension in the frame but also the narrative.

American photographer Gregory Crewdson is very likely one of today’s most famous artists specialised in tableaux photography. Crewdson has developed various techniques of lighting throughout long exposure, using a mix of natural lights but also staged lighting (described as “choregraph[ing] lights” by Crewdson in the video). He also mentions his great interest in “tensions [and the] collision between the familiar and the strange” as well as the “unexpected sense of mystery” and a great amount of preparation with his team.

As a conclusion to my Approach Essay, I asked myself a few questions on how to overcome the diverse challenges we are all going through. How can I, in these times of self-isolation and movement restriction, use home and my immediate, every-day life to document but also enable people to relate to my pictures?  In this essay, I have chosen a few artists who had been working in similar places and on similar projects. I have also tried to think about challenges that might come up such as lighting a scene and working from home. I believe that I would want to reuse Francesca Woodman’s explorations of time, movement and frame, Satu Haavisto and Aino Kann’s dedication to ‘normal life’, composition and use of space at home to convey feelings, Jo Alison Feiler’s sense of abandon, strangeness and use of windows (especially the Two women, two heater vents picture), and finally Caravaggio’s and Crewdson’s use of daylight and darkness as well as tension in their respective art.

First Sketches

For each picture, I have documented myself on other artists and watched various tutorial videos on how to work with: long shutter speeds, mirrors, taking pictures from the ceiling, effective composition for your photos.

As a plan of action, I have drawn 10 first pictures, that I visually imagined. They are a way for me to start taking pictures, ‘visions’ of what the picture would be. They obviously need to be refined, and I do so by testing out the pictures and working on them. They start as ‘feeling’ ‘intuition’, ‘clear image’, ‘impression’ but always need a lot of work (most of them aren’t easy to realise as there is no limit to what is doable in the real world. A bit like a dream.

Here is a link to my Spark Page where I have decided to continue to develop my project.

https://spark.adobe.com/page/S9C6DpaFNNAVl/

Last Names. Chapter One

Okay so... I used to write fanfiction all the time and took a break from it a while ago. Ive decided to start it up again and I have decided that I’m going to do so by writing a series of George Weasley x Reader. So Here it is... Chapter one.

Warnings: Some violence, a few swear words, and a lot of poor English.  

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Plot: Not everyone is born to a family with a name to be proud of. As the daughter of two infamous serial killers, Y/N is happy just to be herself, and defend herself and anyone else. Her mysterious and general badass behaviour doesn’t go unnoticed by one of the Weasley twins.

Some people suited their last names. Malfoy and Potter were brilliant examples. Malfoy was just like his family: stuck up, wealthy, racist and a coward. Draco used his last name to his advantage. His name alone made people fear him, knowing the power his father had. Malfoy was perfectly suited to his last name. The story is the same for Harry Potter. While until he was 11 Harry had no idea how important his name was, he lived up to it every day of his life. He was braver than any Malfoy could ever be, smart like his mother, fierce like his father. Potter was every bit a Potter, no doubt about that.

Not everyone matched their last names. Percy Weasley. His family was forever a bundle of laughs, jokes and giggles. His family were not full of themselves, or overly proud, his family were a humble family. Percy was not that. Yes he was just as lovely and as good as a person as his family, but Percy Weasley was not a barrel of laughs and believed himself to be far too important when promoted to position of Prefect. Far too serious for a Weasley.

Y/N was another one who didn’t match her family name. If Y/N had matched her last name she’d be similar to Malfoy. She’d be proud of being a pureblood, believe herself superior. Her idea of a good time would be inflicting pain on the likes of people like Hermione Granger, just because she could. If Y/N was like her last name and the others who bore it, she’d not use her level of intellect to assist others but much rather use it to take over the world and spread nothing but hate. Y/N was not like this.

Y/N like her family name suggested was confident, sure of herself and cunning to the core. With a quick tongue and a sharpened wit, Y/N was similar to her family, but that was where the similarities ended quickly. Y/N was a model student. She spent her Saturdays tutoring the younger students on all subjects from Potions to Arithmancy. On Friday’s she was often seen with Madam Pince in the Library, quietly working away at reorganising the books left in disarray by students studying. Tuesdays and Thursdays were her own revision days where, weather permitted, after her classes were done she’d quietly sit by herself by the lake or in the courtyard, books around her, quill in hand and notes messily written across parchment. It was fair to say Y/N was not much like her family name would suggest, perhaps being raised by her aunt and uncle, the Tonks, had something to do with it. Maybe Y/N was just simply not like her family.

However, no matter how nice of a person she was, some people failed to see past her last name, failed to see past the damage that her mother and father had done to innocent people. In her third year it became more apparent that not everyone saw her as the nice person she was, when both had reportedly broken free from their prison, much like Sirius Black. While many had simply not cared about who she was, some of her fellow students, many within her own house, held her personally accountable for any damage that her family had done. Those in her own house of Slytherin often called her a traitor, saying not only was she a blood traitor but a traitor to her own family. Y/N by this point in her life was over it, listening to the wise words of her cousin and adopted sister, Nymphadora (or Dora to her), she had decided long ago that as long as she was happy and a good person everyone else's opinions were meaningless to her.  Which is why what happened to her did not phase her much.

“Oi, Lestrange!” A voice shouted from behind her as she walked towards the great hall. “Your gonna be just like your parents one day! Wait and see! You’ll be killin’ people left, right and centre.” The young boy laughed among his friends, failing to notice the girl who he had tried to engage with stop quickly in front of them, hand her bag to the girl who had been walking with her and turn sharply on her heel. The laughter continued until before anyone had realised what had happened, the boy was pushed to the nearest wall pinned down by her leg and arm as it pressed against his neck. Without missing a beat, her heart racing in her chest, she spat,

“If you really believe I’m going to turn out like them I’d keep your thoughts to yourself.” She edged her knee further into his groin, got in closer to his ear and said, “pissing off a potential serial killer is not a smart move. You’re now top of my list.” Without even a second glance she released him from her vice like grip, letting him fall to the floor as she spun back around, smiled at her friend and continued onto the great hall.

While she had been careful to make sure no teachers were present to witness her sudden outburst, she had not been paying attention to the students who were around her. To her, the students who saw just received their warning. Do not fuck with me. However one of the students who had seen the scene unfold as he as his brother walked towards their dinner, had not taken the hint. Much rather he took it as a challenge.

Y/N was well known around the school. People were either talking about her good deeds or the last student who had crossed her path and how they had been flawed and utterly humiliated, often left crying on the ground.  It was hard not to know who she was, but damn near impossible to get to know her. Although that hadn’t yet stopped George Weasley from trying.

In his third year, George and his brother had watched as the then first year Y/N had taken a fellow Slytherin student, Pansy Parkinson, by the hair for calling her a blood traitor. Later that same week he’d seen her comfort a weeping Neville Longbottom after the loss of his toad once again. In years to come the infamous Weasley twins had watched Y/N as she defended herself and those around her, incapable of doing so themselves. George alone had watched as she studied by herself in the courtyard, telling his brother he just wanted some alone time so he could watch the mysterious girl silently or without judgement. Y/N intrigued George, she seemed to be the sweetest girl when she was helping teachers or helping first years with Transfiguration homework, but suddenly became a vengeful warrior when the time called for it.

George on many occasions, sometimes with Fred, sometimes alone, had tried to talk to Y/N. It never ended in a conversation longer than five minutes. Often Y/N had places to be or felt as though the pair were up to something, so politely left the conversations. Since the first time he had seen her he had simply wanted to get to know her, but had yet to have the pleasure.

“George mate, close your mouth, you’re starting to catch flies,” his brother chuckled as he began to walk towards the great hall much like he had originally intended before stopping to see what was going on. “You’ve got to stop staring at her all the time, you’re gonna freak the poor girl out.”

“Oh shut up, I was not staring at her. Well not in that way anyway,” George hit his brother on the shoulder as he caught up, “I was simply shocked by what happened. It’s not like its every day you see a kid get shown up like that. I was impressed.”

“Georgie, you’re impressed every time you see that Lestrange girl. Don’t think I don’t know that your purposely go to the library on a Friday to see her packing away books,” Fred may not have said anything until know but that didn’t mean he didn’t realise what was going on with his brother. He had a crush. A crush on a girl two years younger than him. A crush on a girl who could bring him to the floor with one well planned kick. A crush on a Lestrange. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that the reason you wanted us to talk to her all those times was simply because she’d be ‘good to have onside.’ What kind of fool do you think I am?” Fred laughed as they sat down at the Gryffindor table, opposite of their friend Lee.

“Hey,” Lee beamed at the twins, “Quidditch season starts soon. You two excited?”

“Of course,” smiled back Fred through a mouthful of chicken. George on the other hand was not really thinking about the conversation at the table he was sat at, much rather the one on the furthest side of the hall. Y/N was sat there, not really with anyone, but not really alone. Rather than joining in the chit chat occurring around her she simply ate her meal, listening to the chatter of others instead of being a part of it. George wondered why she decided not talk, her friends clearly wanted her to be involved in the conversation.

George continued to watch Y/N until she got up to leave, not the first in the hall, but certainly the first from her end of the table. With only a nod to her friends, she got up, flattened out her robe and skirt and made her way out of the hall. George watched as she left, right up until the point he could no longer see her around the corner. He wanted to know where she had gone.

“Erm… I’m just gonna go to the toilet. I’ll meet you back in the common room … yeah,” he spoke quickly to his brother as he got up to leave, not really waiting for a response from his twin. Fred and Lee watched as Georges pace picked up towards the door, watching until the last flash of red hair had disappeared from sight.

“He’s smitten and he’s only ever said three words to her,” Fred laughed as he ate another slice of cake from the stand in front of him, a stand that never seemed to empty.

“Clearly. Does he know how pathetic he looks? And trying to say he’s going to the toilet just so he can follow her, does he think we're stupid? I can’t believe he’s gone and fallen for a Lestrange too. Can you believe it?” Lee mocked a offeded voice, as he fanned himself with his hand. Fred chuckled,

“I can actually. Trust my brother to fall for a girl who has no interest in him and whose parents would kill him in a heartbeat.”

Outside the great hall, George tried to follow her path, or at least the path he had imagined she would have taken. For a fourth year girl she was unpredictable, hard to find because of her random approach to life. His pace picked up, his heart hammered in his chest, his lungs began to work harder take shallow breaths, as his walk became a jog, and the jog became a run. George began to forget even where he was, just trying to imagine a path in which she may have taken.  For one moment George forgot to look where he was running, only quickly glancing into open rooms and down smaller passageways. It was in this moment he found himself very quickly bumping into something. No, someone.

His body has ran full speed into someone considerably smaller than himself as he went to turn a corner, knocking not only himself onto the floor with a thud, but who ever the innocent victim was.

“Fuck,” he said as he landed awkwardly on his leg. After dislodging himself from the human pretzel shape he had landed in he began to get up, brushing off the dust as he went. “Ugh I’m so sorry, I was looking for someone but clearly was not looking where I was actually going. I am so sorry. Here let me give you a hand,” George, still brushing himself off said, still without knowing who it was he had just ran into. As he looked away from his now crinkled robes, he looked down to see who it was that was also on the floor, starting to dust themselves off.

“No its okay I’ve got this,” the girl giggled. George said nothing as the girl slowly stood brushing herself off in a similar fashion that he had done himself. “Accidents happen, I’ve often ran full speed into other people before, normally knocking them down on the way. No big deal,” Georges heart raced as he looked down at the now smiling Y/N, still brushing herself clean.

“Oh my … Y/N right?” George stammered, his heart throbbing in his chest.

“Thats me,” Y/N smiled up at him. George was inwardly kicking himself. In an attempt to catch up to this mysterious girl, play it cool and maybe get her to actually talk to him, he had managed to nearly knock her out on a wall. “You’re one of the Weasley twins right? Fred and George isn’t it?”

“You know who I am?”

“Everyone knows who you two are,” she laughed. “I’m sorry I have to admit I’m not sure which one you are though.”

“George. I’m George Weasley, the better twin,” George smiled back at her. Slowly George regained his composure, heart still beating in his chest, he was able to gain a little bit more of that Weasley charm he had been known for. “The much better looking twin.”

“The clumsier twin too clearly. Who were you looking for that was important enough to make you run that quickly?”

“My brother.” He lied.

“Which one? Aren’t you like one of 7? That’s a very big family,” she smiled up as him as she collected her bag from the floor. “I bet family dinners are fun at yours.”

“Yeah there's a few of us,” George replied. “Bill and Charlie don’t live at home anymore though so it’s currently just the five of kids, and mum and dad. It’s certainly never quiet in our house.” Y/N laughed with him, that soft kind of laugh, one one where the subject matter is not really funny but a small laugh makes it sound like you understand.

“Thats nice. My family is kinda small, so its relatively quiet at ours. I bet you have lots of fun stories about your family to tell,” she smiled, her eyes looking right into his. George had calmed down somewhat not, and while his heart was still beating awfully heavily, he had regained enough composer and confidence to simply smile down to her and say,

“I do. So many. Maybe I could tell you about them sometime, over a butterbeer? Maybe this weekend?” For a moment everything stopped slightly, as he waited impatiently for her response. He knew his idea for a day together had been rather sudden, probably worryingly sudden for her, but he couldn't not ask. If there was a chance that she would say yes to spending a day with him then he’d take the risk of being rejected. “My treat.”

“You’re in luck Mr Weasley. Usually I tutor on Saturday’s, but they wanted to go to a Muggles study extra class to watch a film so I’m free. I would like very much to hear more about your family over a butterbeer this weekend,” Y/N said with a beautiful smile, a smile George would love to see again and again. George couldn’t have been more pleased than he was in that moment.

“Perfect.”

Just quick info that I kind of reorganised my blog. 

Now in Masterlist, you’ll find creative things so mostly #my writing, and some challenges - at least the ones I’ve spent more time on and/or I see as more important for my story.

Theories & analysis are rather self-explanatory. I put on the list mainly posts which are longer and in-depth, but you always can find more through tags, especially #about characters.

Fantasieherz, schöner Verstand. Pt XVIII Veröffentlichung.

Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics

As well as his fiction, Tolkien was also a leading author of academic literary criticism. His seminal 1936 lecture, later published as an article, revolutionized the treatment of the Anglo-Saxon epic Beowulf by literary critics. The essay remains highly influential in the study of Old English literature to this day. Beowulf is one of the most significant influences upon Tolkien's later fiction, with major details of both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings being adapted from the poem. The piece reveals many of the aspects of Beowulf which Tolkien found most inspiring, most prominently the role of monsters in literature, particularly that of the dragon which appears in the final third of the poem:

As for the poem, one dragon, however hot, does not make a summer, or a host; and a man might well exchange for one good dragon what he would not sell for a wilderness. And dragons, real dragons, essential both to the machinery and the ideas of a poem or tale, are actually rare.

Children's books and other short works

In addition to his mythopoeic compositions, Tolkien enjoyed inventing fantasy stories to entertain his children. He wrote annual Christmas letters from Father Christmasfor them, building up a series of short stories (later compiled and published as The Father Christmas Letters). Other works included Mr. Bliss and Roverandom (for children), and Leaf by Niggle (part of Tree and Leaf), The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, Smith of Wootton Major and Farmer Giles of Ham. Roverandom and Smith of Wootton Major, like The Hobbit, borrowed ideas from his legendarium.

The Hobbit

Tolkien never expected his stories to become popular, but by sheer accident a book called The Hobbit, which he had written some years before for his own children, came in 1936 to the attention of Susan Dagnall, an employee of the London publishing firm George Allen & Unwin, who persuaded Tolkien to submit it for publication. When it was published a year later, the book attracted adult readers as well as children, and it became popular enough for the publishers to ask Tolkien to produce a sequel.

The Lord of the Rings

The request for a sequel prompted Tolkien to begin what would become his most famous work: the epic novel The Lord of the Rings (originally published in three volumes 1954–1955). Tolkien spent more than ten years writing the primary narrative and appendices for The Lord of the Rings, during which time he received the constant support of the Inklings, in particular his closest friend C. S. Lewis, the author of The Chronicles of Narnia. Both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings are set against the background of The Silmarillion, but in a time long after it.

Tolkien at first intended The Lord of the Rings to be a children's tale in the style of The Hobbit, but it quickly grew darker and more serious in the writing.[159] Though a direct sequel to The Hobbit, it addressed an older audience, drawing on the immense backstory of Beleriand that Tolkien had constructed in previous years, and which eventually saw posthumous publication in The Silmarillion and other volumes. Tolkien's influence weighs heavily on the fantasy genre that grew up after the success of The Lord of the Rings.

The Lord of the Rings became immensely popular in the 1960s and has remained so ever since, ranking as one of the most popular works of fiction of the 20th century, judged by both sales and reader surveys. In the 2003 "Big Read" survey conducted by the BBC, The Lord of the Rings was found to be the UK's "Best-loved Novel". Australians voted The Lord of the Rings "My Favourite Book" in a 2004 survey conducted by the Australian ABC. In a 1999 poll of Amazon.com customers, The Lord of the Rings was judged to be their favourite "book of the millennium". In 2002 Tolkien was voted the 92nd "greatest Briton" in a poll conducted by the BBC, and in 2004 he was voted 35th in the SABC3's Great South Africans, the only person to appear in both lists. His popularity is not limited to the English-speaking world: in a 2004 poll inspired by the UK's "Big Read" survey, about 250,000 Germans found The Lord of the Rings to be their favourite work of literature.

Posthumous publications

The Silmarillion

Tolkien wrote a brief "Sketch of the Mythology", which included the tales of Beren and Lúthien and of Túrin; and that sketch eventually evolved into the Quenta Silmarillion, an epic history that Tolkien started three times but never published. Tolkien desperately hoped to publish it along with The Lord of the Rings, but publishers (both Allen & Unwin and Collins) declined. Moreover, printing costs were very high in 1950s Britain, requiring The Lord of the Rings to be published in three volumes. The story of this continuous redrafting is told in the posthumous series The History of Middle-earth, edited by Tolkien's son, Christopher Tolkien. From around 1936, Tolkien began to extend this framework to include the tale of The Fall of Númenor, which was inspired by the legend of Atlantis.

Tolkien had appointed his son Christopher to be his literary executor, and he (with assistance from Guy Gavriel Kay, later a well-known fantasy author in his own right) organized some of this material into a single coherent volume, published as The Silmarillion in 1977. It received the Locus Award for Best Fantasy novel in 1978.

Unfinished Tales

and

The History of Middle-earth

In 1980, Christopher Tolkien published a collection of more fragmentary material, under the title Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-earth. In subsequent years (1983–1996), he published a large amount of the remaining unpublished materials, together with notes and extensive commentary, in a series of twelve volumes called The History of Middle-earth. They contain unfinished, abandoned, alternative, and outright contradictory accounts, since they were always a work in progress for Tolkien and he only rarely settled on a definitive version for any of the stories. There is not complete consistency between The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, the two most closely related works, because Tolkien never fully integrated all their traditions into each other. He commented in 1965, while editing The Hobbit for a third edition, that he would have preferred to completely rewrite the book because of the style of its prose.

Mr. Bliss

One of Tolkien's least-known short works is the children's storybook Mr. Bliss, published in 1982. It tells the story of Mr. Bliss and his first ride in his new motor-car. Many adventures follow: encounters with bears, angry neighbours, irate shopkeepers, and assorted collisions. The story was inspired by Tolkien's own vehicular mishaps with his first car, purchased in 1932. The bears were based on toy bears owned by Tolkien's sons. Tolkien was both author and illustrator of the book. He submitted it to his publishers as a balm to readers who were hungry for more from him after the success of The Hobbit. The lavish ink and coloured-pencil illustrations would have made production costs prohibitively expensive. Tolkien agreed to redraw the pictures in a simpler style, but then found he did not have time to do so. The book was published in 1982 as a facsimile of Tolkien's difficult-to-read illustrated manuscript, with a typeset transcription on each facing page.

The Children of Húrin

More recently, in 2007, The Children of Húrin was published by HarperCollins (in the UK and Canada) and Houghton Mifflin (in the US). The novel tells the story of Túrin Turambar and his sister Nienor, children of Húrin Thalion. The material was compiled by Christopher Tolkien from The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, The History of Middle-earth, and unpublished manuscripts.

The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún

The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún, which was released worldwide on 5 May 2009 by HarperCollins and Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, retells the legend of Sigurd and the fall of the Niflungs from Germanic mythology. It is a narrative poem composed in alliterative verse and is modelled after the Old Norse poetry of the Elder Edda. Christopher Tolkien supplied copious notes and commentary upon his father's work.

According to Christopher Tolkien, it is no longer possible to trace the exact date of the work's composition. On the basis of circumstantial evidence, he suggests that it dates from the 1930s. In his foreword he wrote, "He scarcely ever (to my knowledge) referred to them. For my part, I cannot recall any conversation with him on the subject until very near the end of his life, when he spoke of them to me, and tried unsuccessfully to find them." In a 1967 letter to W. H. Auden, Tolkien wrote,

Thank you for your wonderful effort in translating and reorganising The Song of the Sibyl. In return again I hope to send you, if I can lay my hands on it (I hope it isn't lost), a thing I did many years ago when trying to learn the art of writing alliterative poetry: an attempt to unify the lays about the Völsungs from the Elder Edda, written in the old eight-line fornyrðislag stanza.

The Fall of Arthur

The Fall of Arthur, published on 23 May 2013, is a long narrative poem composed by Tolkien in the early-1930s. It is alliterative, extending to almost 1,000 lines imitating the Old English Beowulf metre in Modern English. Though inspired by high medieval Arthurian fiction, the historical setting of the poem is during the Post-Roman Migration Period, both in form (using Germanic verse) and in content, showing Arthur as a British warlord fighting the Saxon invasion, while it avoids the high medieval aspects of the Arthurian cycle (such as the Grail, and the courtly setting); the poem begins with a British "counter-invasion" to the Saxon lands (Arthur eastward in arms purposed).

Beowulf: A Translation and Commentary

Beowulf: A Translation and Commentary, published on 22 May 2014, is a prose translation of the early medieval epic poem Beowulf from Old English to modern English. Translated by Tolkien from 1920 to 1926, it was edited by his son Christopher. The translation is followed by over 200 pages of commentary on the poem; this commentary was the basis of Tolkien's acclaimed 1936 lecture "Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics".[171] The book also includes the previously unpublished "Sellic Spell" and two versions of "The Lay of Beowulf". The former is a fantasy piece on Beowulf's biographical background, while the latter is a poem on the Beowulf theme.

The Story of Kullervo

The Story of Kullervo, first published in Tolkien Studies in 2010 and reissued with additional material in 2015, is a retelling of a 19th-century Finnish poem. It was written in 1915 while Tolkien was studying at Oxford.

Beren and Lúthien

The Tale of Beren and Lúthien is one of the oldest and most often revised in Tolkien's legendarium. The story is one of three contained within The Silmarillion which Tolkien believed to warrant their own long-form narratives. It was published as a standalone book, edited by Christopher Tolkien, under the title Beren and Lúthien in 2017.

The Fall of Gondolin

The Fall of Gondolin is a tale of a beautiful, mysterious city destroyed by dark forces, which Tolkien called "the first real story" of Middle-earth, was published on 30 August 2018 as a standalone book, edited by Christopher Tolkien and illustrated by Alan Lee.

Balancing Study and Work

hello !! something that I don’t see talked about enough on studyblr is the balance between work and study, which seems mad given how many of us are handling paid jobs at the same time as school or college work. 

I’m definitely not an expert, but I’ve had my own part-time job for over a year now whilst also doing a levels, so I’ve picked up on a few bits and pieces that can help!!

PRIORITISING

prioritising !! is !! so important !!!!

for a lot of us, the priority is study, and unless you urgently need the money or you’re financially independent, I’m guessing this is the case.

so make sure your work fits around your study, rather than vice versa.

for some people, this means limiting work hours. for others, it’s using your free, non-working time more wisely. whatever suits you, man

ultimately, just don’t overwhelm yourself with one thing or the other, and if you’re feeling a little swamped, don’t be afraid to reorganise some things.

if they know you’re a student, a lot of bosses are far more lenient than you’d think; there’s no harm in asking for a change in hours or a day off for college/school work. be polite and explain your reasoning and you might be surprised

at the same time, though, remember that a job is a committment

if you’re working a paid job, its not fair on your employer (or the person who covers your shifts) if you’re asking for a day off every other week. just keep it in mind

NO ZERO DAYS

i see a lot of posts on here talking about the importance of having a ‘no-work day’ every week to avoid burnout

and as  much as I understand that and I fully agree that you need to avoid burnout,,,, sometimes that’s just not realistic when you’re both working and studying.

instead, I prefer the ‘no zero days’ approach.

all that this really means is that you don’t have a single day where you don’t work at all on your studies, regardless of how much little work you do put in.

say you’re working and studying monday to saturday, and sunday is your ‘off’ day

that’s great! chill out! have some fun! see some friends!

but spend at least thirty minutes on some of your studies.

thirty minutes. that’s it. 30 minutes out of 24 hours. 

but thirty minutes is better than nothing at all.

the idea of ‘no zero days’ is that you’re getting something done, even if not a lot. the reason I like it is because it makes sure you’re having your own time to relax and not study or work (so that you’re not getting burnt out), whilst also making sure you’re keeping on top of important things.

PLAN PLAN PLAN

PLANNING IS SO HELPFUL OK HEAR ME OUT

im not talking fancy bujos and wall planners (unless that’s your kind of thing in which case you do you)

but just !!! having a basic idea of what you’re doing and when !!!

even if you have set work times every week, keeping track of when you’re working (and, in turn, when you have time to study and be in lessons) can make all the difference.

if you know what time you have free, and know what times you need to be working, it can give you just enough pressure to actually get stuff done when you’re studying.

if you’re not into planners and calendars and all that (personally my planner is my saviour buuut), grab a piece of paper on a sunday night and draw out a rough timetable for the week. put in your work hours. put in any pre-planned ‘fun’ events (social, meeting friends, parties, etc), and then put in your study hours.

having just a liiiiittle bit of structure can make all the difference!

USE YOUR TIME PRODUCTIVELY

this is,, kind of building off the last point i guess

if you’re working as a student, its v important that you make the most of your set study time, so you don’t get stuck behind what you had planned to do

some people like to write mini to-do lists at the beginning of the day, or have a rough plan of what they want to get done over the course of a week

whatever your method, make sure you know what you’re going to be doing in a study session. if you sit down to study and have to spend twenty minutes figuring out just what you’re going to do, you’re already wasting time.

within that, know ! how ! you ! study !!!!!!!

if you don’t find rewriting notes helpful, don’t spent an hour rewriting notes god dammit

if you think flash cards are super helpful, MAKE  AND USE SOME FLASH CARDS.

also, screw aesthetics

this kind of applies to all students, but when your work limits you to a certain amount of study time per week, there’s no point in using all this calligraphy and washi tape and fancy ink unless it’s going to help you get that information into your brain.

GET SOME DOWN TIME

oh look its the most important point on here

make !! sure !! you’re getting !! a rest !!!!!

you should be doing this anyway, but sometimes when you’re caught up with both studying and working it can be hard to remember that you don’t have to be busy all the time.

see friends. spend time with your family. watch a movie. read a book.

if you don’t get some down time, you’re going to burn out. and at that point, neither your work or your study will be as good as it could be, anyway.

your mental health has to come before all else, and if you’re feeling overwhelmed (or even if you’re not), please make sure you’re giving yourself breaks and doing the things you want to do.

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