No smoking in the clinic, Seb 😤

THE WALTEN FILES: my jumbled notes on my blind run-in with this web series

first off this is gonna be long and unorganized, also this is my second time writing this as i had lost literally half of my progress and im This (imagine two fingers almost touching with a 0.0000000001mm distance between them) close to ripping all of the fucking hair out of my goddamn head. but now this will be extra long and yes, i will lose some accuracy to my first writing but thats okay ill probably edit this a kajillion times over

which brings me to my next tangent; im literally braindumping here. so to have a smidge of organization all afterthoughts, edits and corrections will be boldened, i forgot what im gonna do with italicized text but ill probably bolden it here yeah im pretty sure its for side tangents, separate from Corrections, which are in bold. also theyre for emphasis too.

so in general, this post right here is all of my notes i wrote down on my grid-patterned sticky notes (which i used WAYYYY too much of) about the first 3 uploaded walten files youtube videos transferred onto my handy dandy digital notebook, this b(l)og. yeppers peppers. you know im serious about this shit when i typed probably over like a thousand fucking words including boldened shit, italicized shit and motherfucking links, lost it ALL, and im sitting here re-typing it again.

i feel bad about this but im not gonna trigger warn right here, but this is technically a warning. if you want a list of triggers as to what this post (and the walten files in general) i will link a little list to that here

without further a doo doo, (mama mia) here the fucking fuck we go again.

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #1

clarifying this now, im gonna put some useless shit which i thought was code onto this because even though it was useless it was part of my notes and im physically going to combust if i dont put down every single thing i wrote on my papers. so what i thought was code was in the closed captions, i started writing it down when i got to the second video but came back to my first videos notes to include them. i wrote down the first letter to every word that was capitalized in the closed captions, which i had on as a default because number one i knew going into this id need them because most web horror things like args and cryptic shit like that has some of the most crucial shits in the closed captions. number two i am autistic and have auditory processing issues and have most closed captioning on as a default if theyre available.

firstly jotted, i wrote down the closed captions “code” so im gonna put the rest here too: HYWITB(BSI)Y A(BSI)BJWFKWITW ILHHFSBBSBTLBWI USOISTBNBSFIRBCAWHSHCBWHTAIGRNB*C*BTWLTSFA(20)MCFP ILITIIACPH(1978, 1979)SA(4)YTSCH*C*OGSSU SFTGRPATDBBUTFBNLLCHMIHLBRALLCLAYTUKB*LC*WHATWASTHATTHING 

the numbers in parenthesis are there because i wasnt sure they should be included in the “code” or not. i also thought of this with the BSI - bunny smiles incorporated and also the years 1978 and 1979. the shits in asterisks are coughs and light coughs, which were capitalized in the closed captions so i included them too just in case

i then jotted, in parenthesis of course, the names of the animatronics when they were listed in the animation section of the video; bon aka the blue bunny, sha aka the sheep one, boozoo aka the clown<3 honk<33, and banny aka the purpled eyelashed up one who is also a bunny btw. also i got boozoo the clown and boozoo the mustache guy confused because apparently the clowns name is billy???? but they named “boozoo” in bons sleepover and showed the clown? idk maybe im an idiot and theyre the same or just an idiot and theyre different or a super mega (matt and ryan?!?!??) idiot in general which is probably the case

i started drawing little stars to write down things i thought would be super important or to 100% look at again. the first subject of this pointy torture was the part of the video where at 3:00, i marked it down to make sure to reverse the audio as it was most definitely a weird audio that has that signature warp-y effect that makes sure you KNOW its in reverse. i then listened back to it Very carefully (still got it wrong) and got this: “you finally start to remember. that old doll. they will look out for you soon” im also pretty sure i heard “sophie” at the end of that audio but im not entirely sure and dont remember and i dont wanna go back to check lmfao but anyways it didnt matter because i was wrong anyway. after i had finished all 3 walten files i watched the film theory video on the walten files (which didnt cover all 3 but was dece.) out of curiosity and to hear matpats signature silly little voice explain some stuff i already knew, and click some shit in my brain that i couldve thought up of if i was a bit more... i dont know honestly. anyways yeah so the actual audio is “you finally start to remember. that old day. they will look out for you soon.” so yeah. day, not doll.

i then wrote down “sarah evelyn”, the name on the bons sleepover animation (i dont remember if she created it or animated it or whatnot) and scribbled will she matter? under her name. turns out no, as i didnt see her name in the rest of the series, let alone the first video. this is also a great time to mention how matpat theory helped me realize that the walten files are collections of videos, uploaded onto youtube by anthony. (i already knew about anthony as he signed his name in the descriptions of the youtube videos, making me categorize this overall web series more into an arg type genre.) but yes, the tapes, recorded “irl” footage, animated clips, vhs tape recordings and other audio-visual content is all collected and labeled the walten files, as i had mistaken each video to be a tape. stupid me. alrighty, onward!

i starred this one, good for me; MISSING: Jack Walten LAST SEEN: 06/11/1974

i jotted down with an arrow that; sophie was a nightguard? she was wearing the uniform explained in tape 2 i dont know why but i went back into my video 1 notes after i had watched video 2. organization purposes. i guess.?? 

i then paused the video when the screen flickered a date, the beginning of video footage dated 10/10/1982 (Brian Stells?) god my little genius ass assuming the videographer was brian stells, based on the id card i saw earlier.

i then wrote down what text i saw on the dead, mangled, bloody body in the purple security suit; “i cant feel anything” “he thought i was her” then drew a little arrow pointing to; thought brian was sophie? or ashley? i also starred the name Brian Stells this is totally out of order LMFAOOOOOOOO also i wrote down ashley because, again, my little pea brain went back on my video 1 notes after watching video 2. but yep thats all i wrote for The Walten Files 1 - Company Introductory Tape

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #2 

Tape #1 - created 07/02/1978

awesome how thats first and foremost in the captions. god. so sexy of you martin walls. /j /nsx

this pack of notes is chunkier because again, like i have mentioned before i am an absolute goober and thought the capitalized letters of the words would actually mean something. I MEAN MAYBE THEY DO AND IM JUST DOING IT WRONG but i stopped doing it after this video because holy shit it was exhausting and my stupid little fingers couldnt take the writing anymore becasue i am WEAK. 

so write off the bat (squeak) i wrote down 197[] the blacked out rectangle over the last digit of that year and everything im also now assuming its probably 1978 or 1974 because lore reasons but whos to say but yeah i also wrote down this;

Tape #2 - created 08/13/1978

then, straight up in the beginning of the video i caught it, the flash of text, as i had by now realized i gotta be SUPER stupid focused on the screen in case i miss anything, i wanted to be crazy precise on my theorizing and mental notes, among other things. but yes i saw it, the first half of a youtube link;  “https://youtu” 

claps hands together and rubs them evilly. oh yeah baby. thats the hot lunch. this shit right here? the cats pajamas. lets fucking go.

i wrote down this goofy shit i pasued to inspect when i saw bon sorting through a file cabinet and naturally scribbled down the labels and other written things i could see on the files; 

relocate X/X/75 felix

storage K-9 07/23/1975 felix k(ranken)

Bons Burgers 06/28/1974 Jack Walten

Shipping Service 1975

New Location -> 1982

i also wrote down more goofy shit, like when banny was created for some reason; in 1974

starred, i noted to go back and reverse the audio at 5:09, when played back, i didnt write it down so i dont remember. lmao.

i also marked to screenshot and brighten the darkened image i saw at 5:20, i was going to do it on my phone then realized i can just do it on my computer so i quickly took a screenshot, brightened it and wrote down what i saw; a missing person poster that read MISSING: SUSAN WOODINGS(?) Last seen: 1974 i was very unsure of the spelling of her last name because the image was so goddamn low quality and grainy but its what i saw. this is where tape #3 gets thrown in, which im gonna type again because i like how the formatting looks;

Tape #3 - created 07/09/1978 (BEFORE tape 2?!//1/1??? its more likely than you think)

i wrote down more dates, any dates i saw, i jotted down. i wrote; 

Technical Support 1978 

then, 

Brian Stells (for some reason i dont remember right now)

alrighty this is where the stupid capitalized letters come in, but before it looks like i vomit a keysmash time infinity on this, ill put down the little inbetween things i wrote in the midst of the caps lockalypse like timestamps and stuff, so here you go;

- Reverse at 8:16 which i did but of course didnt write down what i heard. i think it was too warbled to hear anything clear out of it, or it was just the good ol auditory processing issues fucking me over yet again. WAIT yep yes i did here it is: “rosemary would go to the restaurant every night hoping that [her] beloved husband would reappear after being missing for weeks but no response until one day [s]he heard a voice [saying] ‘i know where he is rosie’ coming from the back stage” the bracketed stuff is the corrections, i misheard the audio and thought the audio said “his”, “he” and “singing” like a nimrod

- Brighten at 10:14 which was another missing person poster, but i dont think it had any information on it because i didnt write it down, just;

- Sophie again (pic at 9:08?) (dismemberd and put in Sha) i was stupid and wrong haha idiot it was rosemary who was put in sha but anywho

i starred and underlined a huge thing i discovered which was;

- Walten had 3 kids which i dont remember how i found out but it doesnt matter, its good important info i uncovered.

- Tape #4 - Unkown Date

- recorded 07/12-07/14 1978 

- Hilary B, Ashley P & Kevin W i made sure to get these names down as soon as i saw them on screen but then realized shortly after i wouldnt really need to have it as the closed captions made sure i knew which person was talking by using their first initial (capitalized of course) before each line of text. this is the perfect time to announce the arrival of the clusterfuck of capital letters, which is going to include colons which will indicate that the letter before it is the initial of the person talking. without further aedue, here comes another chinese earthquake;

TCWTSTATO(K-9)TBSSFWFCNEHAWBSUBIUC(BSIIDC)OWHISF INBIJTILNSPL(K-9)LCSCKCCCWTTLTLITTTYROTFAJAMHPYYSTCSPMBBWSBIB H:NTPPCCK:DA:HH:YCPRPMWTCBCRAWK:JH:SYYTCPBACPSTBAWCA:TK(?):FMTTCMK:TCPNOA:DTOFK:ITNPPRA:YBUTIRRFH:HKIBESRAIA:TCK:WA:WPCCFTRRIDPEH:GGK:GPA:LKK:WA:HNCGTKMK:YH:IGKA:ESK:MFH:RK:HILRLBNTRPPUWHITRRTPEIFEPH:YWBEBPK:MAHPBTRPTRPEL(LN)HTACPKLIKHPFITSKLTKLB(LB?)ISIBSUBIPRW AEBATHSPUAICTPURTWBBRPHTRTIIIILTCITCUCCP S(bpe, be)WA”IDCPBPSIB

holy shit its finally over okay now onto some MORE of what i wrote down in between and also after that keysmash attack;

12 doors? (backrooms) 27? 26? i was unsure because ashley was unsure too lmfao

found cassette (6/11/78) <- says “discard”? yeah it did

Tape in clown audio, speaking voice; jack, susan, charles(?), rosemary, sophie, last word sounds like “walrus” it was walten lmfao

Ashley died? yeah she did lmfao OR AT LEAST I THINK SO??

starred this one, Reverse @ 17:06, then got this;

“they left the next day, they thought ashley left early, but she was in the backdoors, screaming as much as she could, but no one heard the screams, the following days the caretakers would complain about an awful smell coming from the backdoors, company decided to shut down facility until new advice, the relocate project was unsuccessful. ashley is still there, but she is not screaming anymore, she saw something she wasnt supposed to see and now shes beautiful” the phrase “shes beautiful” was repeating like a bajillion times in that wall of text. then, god motherfuckng bless: 

at 17:23 i found the other half of the youtube link, “.be/k07QqEDOfQ” i pieced that bad boy together as instant as i think any form of ramen could never be, but remained ever patient. because i made sure to jot down this before moving onto my next segment;

@ end of vid 2, “shadow man sees* me when lights go off” im an idiot *it was actually “feeds” not “sees”, which AGAIN, i only found out after watching the stupid little film theory video *begins snarling and foaming at the mouth*

okay im not proud to admit im editing this to post it and realized ive lost my notes. well. 

might as well post what ive got! if i find my shit ill add onto this, i suppose.

N e way it has been 728 days since I last saw/had any communication from my older brother (and longer for my little brother, but I don't know the exact date bc I wasn't fucking PAYING ATTENTION.)

And you know what? I remember the day. 7-14-17. He told me he'd text me the next day and see me the next week. You wanna know how many times he's contacted me? Zero. He's also blocked me. All because his fucking CUNT parents (can you say: DIS-GUS-TENG) decided for some fucking UNKNOWN reason that our mom, sister, and I needed to be cut off completely. Literal family, disowned with absolutely no explanation. He and I were closer than ANYONE and ALWAYS told each other we were more important than anyone else to each other. He has had so, so many opportunities to contact me. Literally just sending a fucking letter could've worked. Just, "Hey, it's Tyler. Simon and I are ok. We miss you a ton. Don't send anything back." But would you guess what? Nope. Nothing. One of his friends said that he misses me, and is apparently going to text me once he's 18. But a mutual friend of ours (who's closer to him than the other one) said more recently that he hates me now! Neat. Great. Good. Wonderful. Our sister lived in a much, MUCH more dangerous house than his, and yet wouldn't you know it! She has contacted me every single time she's had the opportunity, and risked a lot for it too. Even if she couldn't carry on a conversation, she'd let me know that she was at least safe or ok. And wow! Now that she has a phone again, she texts me all the time! Almost like...if you put in the effort to contact someone you care about, you absolutely can! She's planning to drive down and visit me! (If you're reading this Pauline I love you SO HECKING MUCH HOE ASS HOE!!!!)

I even believe that our little brother would have contacted me if he knew how. He was fucking six the last time I saw him. He's turning nine this August. Of COURSE he can't contact me, he doesn't have a phone or know my address to send a letter.

Anyway. I don't know if I'll ever hear from him again. Lots of people have told me to just give up.

....

Don't they get it...? I can't ever give up. He was my everything. Absolutely everything to me. He was there, always, no matter what.

He has no idea how many times I've cried, sobbed myself to sleep over losing him. He has no idea how much sleep I've lost over him, whether it be from nightmares where he finds me and tells me he hates me and hopes I kill myself, or from not being able to sleep because I had an unexplainable feeling that he might, just maybe, come see me, and I didn't want to go to sleep for fear of not hearing a knock or the doorbell. I'd already gone through that with our sister. He has no idea how many times I've come so, so close to just texting him, telling him how much I miss him, telling him I've changed, how much I wish he'd come back. How much I wish I could just hear his voice. See his face. Hear his laugh.

I don't know what I did. I have absolutely no clue. Neither does Pauline. Or our mom. Not an inkling. I found a letter the other day from them when I was going through boxes. A birthday card. There were long messages from both of them (the cunts) inside, telling me how much they loved me, how proud they were of me and the young man I was growing into, how much they loved having me as a part of their family, etc, etc. Who knew that in less than a year and a half from then, they'd be telling me I shouldn't ever ask about going on a family trip to the beach. But not for the same reason it used to be. It used to be, "Don't ever ask if you can come with us on a family trip, you're OBVIOUSLY coming! Why wouldn't you? You are family, after all!"

Then it was, "You're so selfish. Don't EVER ask something like that. Why would you think you could just invite yourself on a trip with us? How DARE you be so disrespectful!? You should be ashamed of yourself."

I hadn't even asked to go. I had been on every single beach trip EVER with them. They were family, after all. Tyler told me they were going to Santa Monica and asked if I was coming. I said no. I hadn't even known anything about it. So I texted CUNT BITCH (CB) and she didn't respond. All I said was, "Hey, Tyler told me you're going on a beach trip on Monday and Tuesday, did you forget to invite me or should I just not come?"

She didn't respond for over four hours. Which was really fucking weird. Because she always responded to me. So I texted again. "It's totally fine if I can't come, I'd just appreciate it if you could tell me instead of leaving me on read please."

Wow! Would you guess what. CUNT FUCK (CF) (her husband) texted me ALMOST IMMEDIATELY from her phone. The message read something like (I don't have the original texts anymore),

"How could you be so selfish. Inviting yourself on a trip that's for FAMILY ONLY. (Insert rant about how I'm a terrible person and caused CB to have a "panic attack") (and yes, I know putting panic attack in quotations seems really bad, but she faked panic attacks the entire time I knew her, aka my whole life. And they got SO much worse in those last couple months.) You hurt CB so much. You know how much she cares about you, and yet you accused her of ignoring you. How could you. I'm disappointed in the amount of disrespect you are showing right now." (Side note, I went over to his house back in June, CB opened the door, didn't recognize me at first, then said, "Nope, get out!" And slammed the door in my face.)

Tyler came over the next day, we hung out, he left. When he hugged me goodbye he said he'd talk to his parents about bringing me on the beach trip, he didn't know why they hadn't asked me.

And that was the last I heard from him. Friday, July fourteenth, 2017. Never again. I don't know if he hates me. But it certainly seems like he does.

I don't know, maybe one day he'll contact me again. Maybe he won't. Maybe I'll live the rest of my life wondering what I did and why he and his parents hate me. Maybe he will contact me, just to tell me what a terrible person I am and how glad he is he was separated from me.

I don't know.

I just want to talk to him again. I want to tell him how sorry I am for being a bossy prick. For beating him up when we were little (but I mean we're fucking brothers, and that's just what we fucking did back then). For not being there on his 14th birthday. For getting angry when he won games. For being angsty all the time when I was older. For lecturing him about Homestuck all the time. For being in the hospital so much when I was younger (see: being angsty all the time). For spending more time with s/o's than him sometimes. For waking him up at 0100 in the morning in 7th grade. For being so flamboyant about my sexuality for a few years (god, that was bad). For saying TRIGGERED every two seconds. For hurting myself even after I promised I wouldn't. For not being good enough at the piano to play the Animal Crossing: City Folk museum theme with him. For not waking up early when he was over. For not making enough (or good enough) homemade gifts for him. For not having enough random gift days. For not listening to him when he said things I was doing were edgy. For making him listen to annoying music.

For not being a good enough brother.

I miss him so much. I miss Simon so much. I miss Pauline so much too, obviously, but it's different because I've been able to talk with her all the time. I know she loves and misses me. I also have a feeling that Simon loves and misses me too. He always liked/loved me more than anyone else. He hated his parents. He told me so. I was the only one that respected him. I feel like no matter the amount of brainwashing his parents did to him, he'd know the truth. I just hope he knows I didn't abandon him. That I love him so much. And that it hurts so, so much, every day. And especially on Christmas and his birthday. And Halloween. We loved Halloween.

It's 0606 now. There's 41 hours and 54 minutes until it's been two whole years.

I wonder if he remembers the day...?

I don't know.

I wonder if he'll read this one day. Probably not. But if he does I hope he knows how much I love him and how much I miss him and how much I miss our driveway talks in the middle of the night and Mario kart races and pool games and water pool games and snowmen and sledding and writing stories together and drawing maps together and listening to pop songs while making fun of them and playing the undertale song game and playing minecraft and watching markiplier and fighting and cheating at board games in each other's favor and sorting candy after Halloween and collecting shit money from a camel in that Indiana Jones lego Wii game and making characters in that star wars lego Wii game and screaming badgers at the top of our lungs and spinning in circles to the hamster dance and walking home from elementary school and learning Japanese and OPERATIONTWENTYFOURHUNDRED and Sliced and making house tour videos and other fucking stupid home videos and building legos and rebuilding legos bc of simon and REREBUILDING LEGOS BC OF SIMON and planning midnight snacks that never happened and going to the waterpark and going to the park and finally being allowed to go places on our own and practicing singing to you and seeing you at all my concerts and playing Kirby's Return to Dreamland to 100% together and making really disgusting food creations when we were really little and playing with your hotwheels and cleaning my (DIS-GUS-TENG) room together and having random gift days and all your birthdays and all my birthdays and your AMAZING peanut butter fudge banana smoothie (which I,,, still have yet to perfect) and you being absolutely blunt and truthful towards me (except about my drawing skills/drawings which you absolutely loved even though they were terrible) and going through the undertale files to try and hack the end credits so we could get through the mysterious door and having tea parties together with that FUCKING TINY tea set (I have a big one now though) and giving you fashion shows with fucking stupid clothes that were really bad and playing Wii ski together and Super Mario Galaxy together while you were Mario and I froze enemies and collected stars and playing HMTOT and playing Animal Crossing and you selling everything you caught and all your furniture (besides mario stuff, obviously) so I could buy the Gracie Grace stuff (god, I was a cunt) and EOU (YOU'RE AS BLIND AS A WORM) and essentially having our own language and reading jack and annie books when we were really little and just. There's 20,000 more things plus some but I could never list them all. Everything we've ever done together I miss.

I don't know your views on a lot of things now. I don't know what you think about gay people. I've heard that you've called me they instead of he ever since we stopped talking. That's understandable, though. I dressed like a girl and wore makeup and stuff. I was confused. I thought that's what you were supposed to do, as a gay dude. Obviously not. I'm way less out there about my sexuality now. It's not something I talk about. It's not my whole fucking personality anymore. Which is really good.

I've changed so much since I last talked to you. I'm not edgy anymore. I fucking finally hit puberty (GODDAMN IT WAS FUCKING LATE) and my voice is really deep and I've been growing quite a bit of facial hair, which is nice. I don't look like a fucking girl anymore because I stopped dressing like one and wearing makeup and stuff. I realized that being mistaken for a girl felt like shit and tumblr was shit for encouraging that, just because I'm gay. I haven't hurt myself since September 4th, 2017. So that's also good. I've seen the bad things in mom that I couldn't see before. (Even though there's literally. Nothing that should have made your fucking cunt mother and father disown Pauline and mom and I.) I've made more friends and lost a lot too. I've done more writing, but nothing too edgy. I got my shit together in school and I'm going to CCCC starting in the fall. I almost have my driver's license. One of my best friend's moms is the manager at Starbucks and I talked to her about hiring me, so I'm getting a job soon, too. I started learning the piano again, for the first time in 12 years. Since the last time your mom taught it to me. I started cooking more, and have made some pretty amazing dishes, if I do say so myself. Mom and I sent you and Simon birthday and Christmas presents every year. They always were sent back. Except for your 16th birthday. I bought you a pineapple pizza club pin and an orange dad hat with an orange on it. Those are the only things that ever haven't been sent back. I sent a note with them too. Did you read it? I hope so.

I brag about you all the time. Mostly about how smart you are. "My brother essentially taught himself pre-calculus in 10th grade, and STILL passed the class," I say. I then go on to explain that you were homeschooled and your math teacher almost never showed up to the online classes.

I've wondered often about what college you're going to go to, or even if you are going. We used to plan to go to one together. I can't even remember what I wanted as a career the last time we talked. I remember that you had no idea, though. I remember you being really good at coding. Maybe you're majoring in computer sciences? I don't know.

I really miss you a ton. Before she kicked me out, mom used to encourage me to send you a letter. I never did. I was scared. Scared of getting a letter back like the one I sent to Simon on his eighth birthday, or the Christmas package we sent in 2017. Both came back to our house with "RETURN TO SENDER!!!!!!!" written in thick black sharpie on the front. Even worse, I imagined a letter back in your handwriting. I would've been so, so ecstatic. Beyond thrilled. Then upon opening it, finding a handwritten letter from you saying that you never wanted to hear from me again and that you hated me.

It was selfish of me. To not send you a letter. I'm sorry. I texted you twice. You blocked me the second time. It was too scary to me. I should've been brave. For you. Just so you knew I was thinking of you. I'm so sorry. I love you so much. I miss you so much.

After I moved back to our hometown, I thought about going to your house. I texted one of your friends. He said that he could text you for me. He said that you said you miss me. And that you'd text me as soon as you turned 18. Tyler, you don't even know my number. I don't know if the guy was lying or not, but I don't think so. He doesn't seem like the type. He said that you wouldn't have him communicate for us. I don't know why.

I don't know why your parents hate me. I don't know what I did. For the longest time, my therapist and mom and Pauline told me that I didn't do anything, it had to have been something between mom and your mom. I didn't believe that at all. If it was just mom, why did they cut Pauline and I off...? But eventually I started to believe them. That was clearly a mistake, seeing how your mom treated me when I saw her. I wonder if she told you about that. She literally slammed the door in my face. In her own son's face. Who she always told would always have a home with her. Who she always told would always have a place in her heart, no matter what happened between mom and her. So clearly I did do something. I have no idea what. Could it really be that I asked about if I had been forgotten for a trip...? Was 15 years of raising a child completely disregarded because I was curious and confused? Again, I have no clue. I doubt I ever will. But if that is the case. If that's why specifically /I/ was cut off (because I know there was something else between mom and your mom that she literally never explained. Literally all mom and Pauline and I know is that apparently mom was "abusive" for years towards your mom, despite nobody ever seeing it, her never mentioning it before I went to Oak Grove, and her saying that she "knew it happened, but didn't know what it was"), then I doubt that your parents ever really loved me. If a simple question erases a lifetime of care and love and bonds and family, then all of those things were never really there.

It's 0737. Yeah, I still use military time. Also, I wanted to do a speech (in my speech class) on why a time system based on 10's would be better for the world. Remember? You wanted that. I couldn't remember the details, though. Anyway. It's 0738. There's 40 hours and 22 minutes until it's been two years since I've seen you.

I often wonder if you think about me. I think about you all the time. Have I faded from your memory? What am I to you now? Am I your brother, your closest confidant, your best friend, and your <>? Am I nothing? Just a faint thought, a distant memory? Or am I your worst enemy? Have your parents convicted you that I'm a horrible person? I desperately hope not. I hope you remember everything. And I hope that you realize that it's been a long time, and we both have matured a ton. Going from an edgy 10th grader who thinks dressing like a girl, screaming "GAY," and looking up undertale AU's are the coolest things ever to a college freshman who finally realized that sexuality shouldn't be a personality trait, being an edgy cunt isn't cool, and responsibilities are actually important is a big difference. I'm sure you've had some huge changes too. You're almost 18. As of today, there's 2 months and 2 days until your birthday. I've been waiting for it for so, so long. An eternity, it feels like. I'm so scared. I don't know if you hate me or not. I'm going to text you. I'm not sure on what, but something. I'll tell you happy birthday. Just so you know how to contact me in case you want to talk. I have no idea if you'll just block me right off the bat. I'm hoping so, so much that Nathanael wasn't saying you hate me.

It's 0756. There's 40 hours and 4 minutes until it's been two years since I've seen you. Error 404 means...something not found, right? I don't know. It doesn't matter.

I miss you. I love you.

Please come back soon.

- E. Nikolas B.

Art Runs Generations Deep In The Family Of Molly Wattle Boney

Art Runs Generations Deep In The Family Of Molly Wattle Boney

Family

by Sally Tabart

Brendon Boney (aka The Magpie Swoop), Tessa Nuku (aka Tessa Thames) and Molly at home! Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

Molly with her winning artwork from the TDF Design Awards, and painting at home with Tessa. Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

Tessa and Brendon usually just let Molly go for whatever idea she has – 99% of the time their input gets shut down by Molly! Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

Molly at home, getting ready to go to the beach. Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

The fam at the beach near their home in Ettalong Beach, New South Wales. Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

Is it just us or does Molly look EXACTLY like both her mum and dad?! Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

The family hanging out at the beach. Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

The family hanging out at the beach. Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

Molly finding bits and pieces at the beach. Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

Tessa pushing Molly on the swings at the park. Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

Tessa chasing after Molly! Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

Tessa and Molly playing at the park. Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

These two! – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

It comes as no surprise to learn that Molly Wattle Boney, the winner of the five and under category in the TDF Kids Art Awards, comes from an exceptionally creative family. Her mum, Tessa Nuku (aka Tessa Thames), is a talented singer songwriter, and dad, Brendon Boney (aka The Magpie Swoop), is also a musician, who has worked with Bangarra Dance Theatre, Sydney Theatre Company, Belvoir St Theatre, and Ilbijerri Theatre. The pair met over 15 years ago at rehearsals for a big inter-school performance, and played music together for years in their band, Microwave Jenny. In fact, Tessa and Brendon were driving town to town on tour up until Tessa was 30 weeks pregnant with Molly!

Both Tessa and Brendon are from First Nations backgrounds, and mentor First Nations students at a nearby high school through the Solid Ground Program. They see creativity as a way of connecting to the bigger picture.

Molly has the kind of cheeky grin that will instantly make you smile back. As well as painting she loves dancing and singing, and her parents are always there to help her with whatever creative outlet she wants to pursue. We chatted with Tessa more about soon-to-be-six-year-old Molly, their creative family, and the question everyone has been asking – when and where we can buy a print of Molly’s beautiful artwork!

Hey Tessa! How did you and Brendon first meet? When was that, and what were you both like back then?

We met backstage at a ‘Schools Spectacular’ rehearsal in 2005. Back when it was held at the Sydney Entertainment Centre that had the tiny McDonald’s underneath with those plastic flap curtains to keep all the pigeons out. Brendon was living in Wagga Wagga at the time, and would fly to and from Sydney for rehearsals. I, on the other hand, was only travelling from Umina Beach. We were both ‘Featured Artists’ and definitely spent a bit of time with each other between practice, too much time maybe haha.

I’m not sure we were that different to who we are now, except I no longer carry around my Discman & Power Puff Girl CD carrier, and he no longer has dreadlocks or wears a shell necklace!

Tell us about both of your creative backgrounds.

Brendon has studied music, but I didn’t really see that as the path for me. He’s shared his experiences of getting his degree and it’s only made me more comfortable with my decision not to pursue formal education with regard to my music! We both write, compose, produce, record, tour and perform music and it’s given us opportunities to work in the commercial pop industry as well as in film, television and theatre. My mum is a visual artist and that’s been a pretty big influence on Molly.

Has Molly always been interested in art making?

I think she was probably destined to be creative. Her life started with her on tour with my husband and I from the comfort of my belly listening to mum on repeat. Painting is only one of many things that brings her joy. She also loves singing and dancing and anything that involves creating something that wasn’t there before. As soon as there is something she wants to create, whether it be a song, a dance, a brush stroked masterpiece, we are at the ready.

Are there many other artists or creatives in your families?

Too many to mention. My dad is a builder but also a bit of an inventor. He loves to sing, as did his father. My mum is a superb visual artist. She made our clothes growing up and I still get her to make me pieces today. She’s pretty good at everything really. My brother is a beautiful carver and drawer. Both my sisters could successfully give anything creative a go. But honestly that’s just my side of the family so the list most certainly could go on and on.

Do you decide on what Molly is going to paint/draw together, or does she just go for it?

Most of the time she just goes for it. Other times it’s something she has read or seen that week. Most paintings are done over a few days, so it stays stuck to the table till she says she’s done. Sometimes I’ll share my thoughts if I see that she’s stuck but 99% of the time my ideas get shut down! So basically all I do is change the dirty water and find her favourite brushes.

What kind of kid is Molly?

She would be the first to describe herself as a chatterbox. From a very young age she has loved words and learning the meanings of words. Loves to read, especially joke books. Loves being with her cousins. Not fussed on fashion. Hair’s always a mess. Loves kindy but still fondly reminisces on her preschool days, haha. Enjoys a crowd. She’s pretty switched on, gentle and hilarious.

What made you decide to give Molly the middle name ‘Wattle’?

As I mentioned previously we were still touring when I was 30 weeks pregnant. On our long drives from town to town to perform we saw A LOT of Wattle. Giant clouds of golden joy and it would always make me smile. One day it just clicked and I just said “what about Wattle?” and I remember both of us just going “Naaawww!” and that was it! We knew it was going to suit her perfectly. Molly was born in the first week of August which is when Wattle is most golden. An outstanding emblem of warmth and resilience, that’s our Molly.

How does culture inform your family’s creativity? And in what ways do you express that?

I think a big part of our culture is understanding that it’s not all about you. You’re a small part of a big picture and you use your creativity and art to help you connect and find your place in that bigger picture. That’s why you’ll find a lot of First Nations art reflects land and animals and community. We’ve traveled a lot and we try to expose ourselves and Molly to all types of cultures including the many different, diverse First Nations cultures we have right here! Molly goes to the local community hub and learns the dances, that helps her understand the stories and how things move and informs her own art. She also weaves grass and that’s helped her see how the world around can help her create.

In what ways is creative expression important to your family?

In every way, not so much because of what we have learnt in theory or technique but it’s because of who we are. Art runs generations deep in our family. Builders, master craftsman and crafts women, architects, weavers, illustrators, writers, singers, story tellers, performers – you name it. Created to be creative. I think art teaches you to have courage to fail and confidence to find success.

What lessons do you hope Molly will take from growing up surrounded by so much creativity?

That her own creativity can help her connect to the world around her. I hope she understands how it can help her learn her history, and also forge her own path. Also, that she doesn’t have to do what everyone else around her is doing to feel comfortable with herself. I hope that she understands that arts and creativity isn’t about trying to be perfect but just trying and that she knows deep down that if she wants to be in creative arts, it’s just as needed and valid a job as any other out there. Maybe even more so!

Finally – where and when can we purchase our own Molly Wattle Boney print?!

Her website will official launch July 7th. If you can’t wait that long, you can also  purchase A4 & A3 prints straight from Molly’ Instagram! All you have to do is DM her *which is me, Tessa* and we can sort it out for you.

Tessa, Brendon and Molly at their favourite local pizza place, Tropicana Social Club. Photo – Alisha Gore for The Design Files.

FAMILY FAVOURITES

Cafe or restaurant? 

For lazy dinners We love our local pizza place Tropicana Social Club and for cheeky, delicious indulgent lunches Young Barons.

Weekend away?

A weekend away is a weekend at home for us. We love living in Ettalong and we work so much away from home that spending time where we live is our favourite weekend away.

Rainy day activity?

We are big on movies so we all like to cuddle up with some popcorn and treats and pretend we are at the cinema and once the movie is done we bust out the lego and card games!

Most played song?

Anything BTS.

Looooong Personal Post Ahead

You’ve been warned. Dad has gotten pretty depressed.  Despite his chemo treatments making a difference, he feels like everyone is moving on without him—which is partially true because one of his brothers moved away and quit hanging out with him once he got sick.  Another one of his brothers refused to talk to him, I think out of apprehension or fear...  it’s that or he’s just an ass but I’d like to think he’s a little deeper than that.  ...or WAS deeper.  That brother died unexpectedly Wednesday morning, and the brother who’d moved away from my Dad because he was sick, was there to have to deal with it.  Maybe there’s some kind of justice at play there or maybe it’s just awful luck, I don’t know...  But Dad didn’t go to the brief showing because other people in the family have been sick and his blood levels were really down and so he just got more depressed.

I took my son to have four baby teeth extracted because he’s lucky enough to have crooked adult teeth that need help coming in.  I didn’t lie to him the procedure wasn’t that bad but we had a bit of a problem stopping his bleeding...  It probably didn’t help that he had some sinus-y issues and coughed a bit, but we ended up at the dentist’s office at 10 pm that night so she could pack his gums.  (It’s worth noting that his dentist drove half an hour back into town to do this so she’s kind of awesome.)  And even with the packing in, he still bled lightly up until I made him go to sleep at 1 am.  Friday came around and he was oozing/seeping a little bit,and even though his dentist didn’t have office appointments that day, she had me bring him in just so she could make sure everything looked okay before the weekend came.   Friday afternoon I took the kids with me to do some random Christmas shopping.  I was in an oddly festive mood and was very relieved my son’s gums had (mostly) stopped bleeding.  I consider myself a very attentive, paranoid person—I’m very aware of the people around me and what they’re doing because I just don’t trust them.  But somehow, I don’t really know how, when we went to go check out, my oldest daughter got distracted and fell behind, and I lost her.  It was a busy store, carts were everywhere, and I fucking lost her.  I can’t even explain how hollow and alone you feel when you are literally yelling a child’s name out in a crowded store and you’re surrounded by strangers who are just staring at you.  Not that its their fault for not knowing who to look for or anything but it was such a crushing isolating feeling.  I remember running up to the front of the store with my other two children and grabbing the first employee that had a radio while all these panicked, worst case scenario type thoughts were flickering through my mind.  What if I wouldn’t see her again, what if someone had grabbed her, how would I fucking live or function not ever knowing what happened to her—you know the usual terrifying parental fears that take on a whole new level of scary when you are actually faced with that potential situation.  Thankfully she came bursting out of some aisle further down looking quite terrified herself.  Apparently she’d heard me and just couldn’t get to me.  I cried so much over it.  She cried over it.  Even the 4 year old was rattled and went on and on about how she would’ve found her and brought her back...   And then today, (Saturday), I had to go back to the same store, and when I first got into the checkout line, I had that punch to the gut feeling reminding me of what had happened last night.  I was very eager to get home.  And I was in a good mood once I was, until my neighbor across the street flagged me down.  For those of you who are new or just don’t follow my personal drama, my family moved into a new house exactly three months ago.  The whole process was so awful and the market was so competitive, it sucked but I’ll spare you.  But long story short, we extended ourselves a lot and made an investment on a decently large house in a really sought after part of town.  It’s not a ‘rich’ neighborhood, but it’s a very safe, very nice neighborhood.  And then my neighbor across the street informed me that the house next to mine was becoming a “sober-living” home, aka a substance abuse recovery house.  I felt so ill.  And I’m not trying to say they don’t need a safe supportive place to stay while they try to rebuild their lives, but most of my family consists of druggies, my husband’s parents are useless, sometimes unpredictably volatile druggies/alcoholics, and our old house was surrounded by druggies.  We pretty much went all out to try to get our children in the best area we could to get them away from that lifestyle, and just when we were getting settled, our new neighbors file for divorce and sell their house to some out of state rehab organization.  I’m really not trying to be mean, I know these people need support, but I am a mother to three young children and I understand the kinds of crowds people with substance issues can draw.  I understand how desperate someone who needs a fix can be and the things they will do, and one of my children’s bedrooms directly faces this new recovery house.  All it will take is one break in, one confrontation, one anything for something really bad to happen.  We went all in to try to safeguard our kids against this and the city is just allowing them to move in.  We weren’t warned or informed, we found out in the newspaper where the developer was bragging about how welcoming the neighborhood was.  Welcoming...  I’m reeling.   The neighbors across the street are furious and worried.  How could we be welcoming if we were never informed?  I’m stuck in this weird place where the Christian in me is like, “Don’t worry about this, this is going to help people and you’ll be fine,”  but I am really worried because I would’ve never considered buying a house next to a recovery house, and if this causes our property value to drop, we may never be able to sell this place and get away if things do go bad. My brother has tried really hard to try to reassure me that things will probably be okay and that there’s no point in stressing myself out over an issue that hasn’t arisen yet.  But I’m obsessive and I just can’t let it go.  We went all in and this is where it got us. I’m just so emotionally exhausted.  I’m drained, I’m tired, and if this house ends up being a bad thing we’re trapped where we are for at least a few years. 

Retail Therapy

I had mentioned in one of my previous posts that I was noticing similar grieving patterns after I miscarried in my second trimester compared to those I had when my mom died in 1994. One of those coping mechanisms, of all things, is retail therapy. [A reminder that I am not the shopper in the family. My husband is the shopper, that I affectionately (and secretly) call the queen or the diva. This started years ago when he used to buy me my perfume, "Happy" from Clinique, and I would find the "free gift" in HIS bathroom drawers - eye cream, wrinkle cream, what have you.] I remember when my mom died, my dad gave me his credit card and off I went to Kingsdale Shopping Center (where we all worked at Macri’s during college – I could go for a mini chef turk salad right about now!). Naturally, I had my bff Deirdre in tow.

I remember being in The Limited and Limited Express. I was buying just to buy. Again, I don’t even like to shop and yet it made me feel better. As I sit here at forty (40) years old, I can write with fair certainty that I will get in trouble now with my dad for revealing this tidbit almost two decades later. I remember Deirdre saying, “Oh, I like that shirt, sweater, etc.” or something that effect. “Throw it in the pile.” Deirdre, “No, I couldn’t do that!” “Sure you can! It is on my Dad. He will not know. Throw whatever you want in the pile.” Deirdre and I both made out like bandits that day all thanks to my Dad. In short, money – whether mine or my dad’s – after something traumatic in your life, does not seem to matter. A lot of things don’t seem to matter. People dying of cancer would love to have my problem of a miscarriage or failed adoptions. There are so many bigger issues in life. I remember my dad saying to me, “Your mom worried about money all the time. Look how all that time was wasted now.”

 Maybe I learned to deal with grief by retail therapy by example? My dad, at the sake of being childish, “started it”. First, he was the one that loaded my brother and I on a plane to Las Vegas first class for a week after my mom died. Second, that trip was followed by another vacation to good ole’ Ocean City, MD. My dad grew up in Maryland and spent his summers there. My mom, dad, brother and I went every year for 1-2 weeks. Third, my dad gave me his credit card to shop. This retail therapy does not seem to be uncommon. I know of a husband and 10 year old that lost their wife/mother to breast cancer a few months ago. They have been staying in a vacation home in Malibu since she died in May. I know everyone grieves differently. Some people get angry at God (or angry in general), some people get depressed, some people drink and some people, well, shop. After this latest loss, I can say that if the economy is getting better, you may want to thank my husband and me. We apparently think we are the Rockefellers right now.

My husband went out and bought a Playstation 3 right after we miscarried. I handle all the money in the family, but I told him it was fine. We went to Las Vegas, first class, just my as dad did. We have shopped…um… quite a bit. That translates to: I came home with a bookmark and a nail file from Las Vegas (total $3.50) and my husband came home with about 1,000 t-shirts/hats (his happiness = priceless). I most certainly did want to buy the Wynn hotel bed, along with all the linens, but had to draw the line at that point. I would never get out of bed if we had the Wynn bed and, therefore, I would be unemployed. By allowing us to treat ourselves a little bit, it is allowing us to heal. I simply feel there are bigger things than money right now. As I write this, he is shopping for a new xm radio. He also went out and bought a rare kind of beer he drank when we were at a restaurant in Las Vegas. He never drinks beer, let alone buys it. I think we both are buying here and there just to buy. Right now, splurging a bit on something other than adoption agencies and medical fees feels good after almost a decade. I am also splurging a bit on others. I have done some things (quietly) for others because it makes me feel good. There are worse vices or ways of dealing with grief. This is a positive one. The economy needs us now. Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country. I am answering that call with something I never say, “SHOP”!

This respite will all be coming to an end shortly. We will have to decide to try again or to give up completely. We meet with “Tressel” tomorrow to discuss our options for the future. I have kind of enjoyed this mini break from the quest of parenthood. Is it sad? Sure. Is it difficult? Absolutely. But to be free from anxiety or medical tests/exams for the past month has been a very welcome relief. To end on a positive note, I do believe in signs. As I sit here and write this, I just got a call from Tressel’s office. Thinking they were just confirming our appointment, she surprised me and said he is now taking our insurance. None of this has been covered by insurance. We have a consultation tomorrow, and although I will believe it when I see it, what unusual timing. Just when we thought we were at the end of our rope, a call with a ray of hope. Maybe we can try again and not have to stand in line for cheese? Maybe any further tests will be covered by insurance, or, in the realm of shopping and retail therapy, on “sale”? However, right now, at this moment, as I take this journey day by day, that call may have just saved us, at the very least, a very large consultation fee for tomorrow and I will take it! Baby steps.

 Thanks for reading and sharing. Stay tuned for the next baby step. xoxo (aka socks).

 Originally Published: Monday, August 13, 2012

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