anna luisa

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: i should have told them i was sick last week, they're gonna think this is the way i sing, why is the pianist playing so loud? should i sing louder? i'll sing louder. maybe i should stop and start over. i'm gonna stop and start over. why is the director staring at his crotch? why is that man staring at my resume? don't stare at my resume i made up half of my resume look at me stop looking at that, look at me, no, not at my shoes don't look at my shoes i hate these fucking shoes why did i pick these shoes? why did i pick this song? why did i pick this career? why does this pianist hate me? if i don't get a callback i can go to crate and barrel with mom and buy a couch. not that i want to spend a day with mom but Jamie needs space to write since i'm obviously such a horrible, annoying distraction to him. what's he gonna be like when we have kids? and once again... why am i working so hard?these are the people who cast Russell Crowe in a musical jesus christ, i suck, i suck, i suck, i suck

John was eight when he first met Emori. His parents had moved back to their home town, set in a small, old fashioned Townhouse that rested in a fancy development area. A Terrace, his parents called it.  

The school was big, but the year had already begun, and kids had made groups. It was harder to make friends when they were in groups, they travelled in packs that acted as a barricade to outsiders.

Sitting on a bench, on the side of the school, where it was more desolate of hellions, he saw Emori. She was taller. Dark, untamed hair fell beneath the black bandana she wore.

“You can play with me,” she said, “We need someone to hold the other end of the rope.”

Murphy saw another boy, who seemed older than him. He held on end of a rope, and the girl stood in the middle, looking a John expectantly. Picking up the other end, they began.

They saw each other more after that. He learned that her name was Emori, and the boy with Emori was her brother, Otan. He was in the two years above them. Emori was reserved to a lot of the other students Murphy noticed, catering a small friends group instead. But she was loud and talked a lot. Murphy liked that.

Sitting crossed legged from each other, they ate their lunch. Murphy picked at his sandwich, discarding the green ‘leafy nonsense’. And Emori told him about how her parents were getting divorced, which she was fine with, saying: “He never lived with us, even when Otan was born.”

A few days later, Emori invited Murphy over to her house. Her mum was nice, Luisa. She was a woman of calm intensity that kind of freaked Murphy out.

They lived outside town, their house resting near National Forest lands. The forest was their backyard. Emori showed Murphy the best way to start a fire, with Otan babysitting them from a distance. Murphy made smores, calling himself Gordon Ramsay.

“Well, Mr Ramsay, I would give this a ten out of ten!”

Murphy visited Emori’s house a lot more frequently, and during the Summer would stay over days at a time, that, eventually, Luisa bought a small roll out bed that could be stored beneath Emori’s for when he was over. The divorce had been finalised after one year, and Murphy sat at the counter eating a homemade ‘congratulations’ cake from one of Lusia’s co-workers. Otan was rummaging in the fridge, pulling out cans of coke.

Emori held the divorce papers in front of her, “I’m gonna frame it in my room.”

Luisa snorted but didn’t object.

Otan smirked.

“Murphy,” Luisa said, “Emori mentioned you made it into a small band at school,” she smiled warmly, “What do you play? The drums?”

“The triangle!” Emori grinned.

“No, the flute.”

At night after Luisa had gone to bed, Emori sat on the small balcony with a wearing a plastic bag over her clothes, with scissors in hand, “Make it even John.” She instructed.

Handing over the scissors, John began cutting. It was a little below her shoulders. And the final work was choppy.

Emori grinned in the mirror, touching the ends of her hair. “You had one job.”

On Murphy’s thirteenth birthday, he was allowed a party. After coming home from Laser Tag, Murphy’s friends could sleep over at his house. Emori claimed her usual place on the fold out couch that had been moved to his room since last summer, sharing it with Octavia and Clarke. And Jasper, Monty and Bellamy crashed on the floor in sleeping bags.

After watching movies and the hours had snuck into the early morning, and Jasper and Murphy presented their small stolen pints of alcohol from their parents, the group turned to truth and dare.

“Answer it Bell,” Clarke commanded, “Who was your first kiss?”

Without shame. “Gina.”

Monty gawked. “The girl from the year above us?”

Bellamy nodded, smirking.

Octavia covered her ears, “There are some things a sister should not know!”

“Now it’s my turn,” Bellamy said, his eyes looking around the group for a victim. “Emori. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“If you had to pick one person from this room to live with forever, who would it be?”

“Murphy.” She said without hesitation.

Murphy and Emori high fived.

Emori turned to the blonde beside her, “Clarke. Truth or dare?”

Straightening her shoulders.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to … Kiss Bellamy.”

Bellamy flushed and Octavia threw up her hands, “A sister in the room!”

“Then get out,” Murphy said. Octavia glared, but stayed where she was. “Then don’t complain, it isn’t that bad.”

The kiss was short lived, lasting a few seconds, before they pulled away.

The night rolled on, small dares commanded and petty truths revealed. In the morning, the group left, and only Emori remained. They ate second breakfast together, and when it was 2:30 Luisa knocked at the door to pick up Emori.

Their mothers chatted briefly before she left.

“John, clean up any mess that was made while they were here.” Murphy set to work. Fixing the couch in his room, collecting the chocolate and lolly wrappers, and doing the dishes.

At dinner, Murphy’s mum, Anna, spoke, “I think you’re getting a little old for a girl to be sleeping in your room now, John. Emori can sleep in the guest bedroom, or the loungeroom.”

“Were not going to do anything.” He grumbled.

“That’s right, you won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” There was a resolute tone in her voice, hinting on beyond the basic meaning.

“Ah, honey, John has made a fine friend, and we have nothing to be concerned about. They’ve been together since they were kids.”

Murphy grinned at his father over his bowl of spaghetti.

The first real party happened at Bellamy’s and Octavia’s. Their mother was out of town for the week, trusting that her sweet, eldest son, Bellamy to watch over his sister and the house.

They were fifteen. Bellamy was seventeen and had disappeared in his room with Monroe, for the last half-hour. Octavia was giggling over a cup of Rum and Coke with Atom, Bellamy’s friend. Clarke had invited a girl called Lexa over.

Lexa was silent and hesitant with the people she didn’t know, taking a while to warm up to people, but after a few drinks, she fell into a deep, winded conversation with Monty and Harper on Humanitarian work and better ways to save Earth’s resources.

Miller and Bryan announced their relationship, sending their friends into hysterics of I knew it!

It was rumoured Fox gave someone a blow job, but no one knew who, and Fox refused to say.

Aurora Blake uncovered the remnants of the party in the multiple joints she found in an unclean astray, a few glinting bottles of alcohol and red cups that had been chucked under the porch; the debauchery had been revealed.

Octavia was grounded and Bellamy lost car privileges for two weeks.

Murphy stood out front of his High School with Emori sitting on the ground beside him, who practiced spinning her small blade around her hand.

A gift from John on her sixteenth birthday, a Butterfly Knife.

Anna’s car slowed to a stop in front of the empty school, her glare hardening on the teen.

“See you later,” Emori said before the care wheeled away.

In the car, it was silent, until Anna spoke. “Another school detention. Your father talked to you, John.” Fingers wrapping against the wheel, “John, answer.”

“Just stupid kids. Don’t worry about it.”

“Every detention has been with Emori. She’s a bad influence.”

Murphy looked at her out of the corner of his eye, “Is that what you deduced?”

“Shut up John.”

Murphy looked out the window, fist clenched.

“You’re a good kid, and you’re getting messed up with the wrong people. Her people.”

Her people?” he snapped.

“She comes from a rougher neighbourhood. That doesn’t make her a bad person, but she isn’t hanging out with a good bunch, either. It’s like she’s in a mini gang; what do they call it? Trikru?” There was a small pause, “What about Bellamy and Clarke? I like them. You haven’t hanged out a while with them.”

Murphy noticed it in the small things as he got older about his mother, and her growing dislike for Emori. The smile that never reached her eyes when she spoke to Emori. Never offering for Emori to stay over. The small questions of money, and the small offers of insistence when they went out.

“If you two are going out to the movies, let me give you some money Emori, I know who don’t have enough …”

“Oh you work two jobs? Really? Why would you do that?”

“Wow, you have the new IPhone, how did you afford that?”

Anna’s questions becoming bolder over the years, and Emori turned up less at the house. But, when she did, it was never if Anna was home.

Murphy had his first semi-serious girlfriend a few weeks later, Ontari. Murphy liked her. She was a new arrival to the town. A scared face, mostly along her cheeks; but your eyes always landed on the one between her eyes on her forehead, a welt-like-scar. Despite her appearance, she lived in, what his mother said was the ‘well to do part of town’. Dinning in fine neighbourhoods but befriending eccentric, bohemian dropouts.

Their relationship came to a crash when conflict arouse between Ontari and Lexa. It was tearing the group into sides, and Murphy’s fell with Lexa, right besides Emori.

“I brought you something to cheer up,” Emori said after his breakup.

Looking up, he saw that she was empty handed.

“What?”

“Me,” she said sitting down beside him.

When snow had fallen thick enough to go sledding, Emori and Murphy trudged to the top. Bellamy, Octavia, Clarke along with Jasper and Monty in tow.

“How did this happen? I just invited you.” Looking at his best friend in question.

“Oops, must have let it slip.”

Jasper revealed his bronze flask, and everyone drank from it. People went two at a time down the hill. Emori veered her sledge closer to Johns before pushing him off his, making it to the bottom on her own.

Emori’s shoulders shock, clutching her stomach when she stood, looking at her best friend that remained face down on the ground halfway up the hill. When he did wiggle uncomfortably, she moved closer, pushing escaped hair back under her bandana.

“Murphy,” she said loudly, nudging his foot with her own.

He groaned.

“John,” voice low and playful.

He didn’t move straight away, but when he did he cracked a fistful of snow over her head.

It started a domino effect. Soon everyone was pelting snow at one another. Bellamy was the worst, making a small base at a tree with Octavia and Clarke at his sides.

A little after that they left to the small dinner in town, where Atom worked. It took a while to convince Bellamy to join them. Atom and Octavia had remained a private thing until recently and Bellamy hadn’t taken to the news … pleasantly.

They ate Apple pie and mini Pizza’s on Monty’s dime and Milkshakes on Emori’s.

“My parents want me to start thinking about Collage,” Jasper said, “What about your folks?”

Emori shrugged, “I’ll have to get in by scholarship. I’m saving though,”

Monty nodded, “I have to pay back whatever my parents pay. They want me to do Electrical Engineering.”

Clarke winced, “Tough, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”

“Why?”

“Because everything electric in my house is out to kill me. I can’t put anything into a wall socket without getting zapped.”

“I’m trying to get an apprenticeship this summer,” Bellamy said, “Carpentry.” Bellamy would be fine. He had a ‘labours’ body. Tall, wide shoulders, and strong. And it helped that he was good with his hands.

Clarke tilted her head, “I thought you wanted to work on cars?”

“My mum says I should be more realistic, especially in this town. There aren’t big options.”

“What about you, Clarke?” Murphy asked.

“I like Art, but I also want to be a Nurse, and I like Political Science. So … I’m thinking on what to do.”

The group dispatched shortly after.

The snow was falling faster. Your foot crunching through a few inches of snow out of the Dinner. They – Murphy and Emori – decided to take a bus back.

“Do you want to go to college, John?”

“I don’t know. My dad wants me to. He has plans for me, has an idea of what he would like. And mum, I dunno, she just wants me to do … something, I don’t know what she wants with me.”

“How are they?”

“Mum and dad?”

“Yeah.”

Breathing out a long puff of air, “I don’t think they’re sleeping in the same bed anymore. I have no idea when it started happening. I just started finding Dad on the couch in the garage some nights. It ain’t lookin’ good.”

At home, the lights were off in the house. Only the kitchen one remaining on, where his parents sat at a table. It was silent, but it was the kind of silence that happened when someone walked in the room.

The news was broken that night.

They were getting a divorce. Anna would stay at the house, and John’s Dad would rent a room from somewhere in town.

For the next few days, John’s dad packed his clothes into a duffle bag. His friend from work had offered his small room at his house, he decided to stay there instead. He was gone before the afternoon.

School was different. Murphy punched one kid in the nose, but for the first-time escaped Suspension from the leniency of his teachers. But after a few more times, was finally sent home.

They tried to call his mother but she never picked up. They tried calling his dad, but he was out of service on an out-of-town work trip. They called his emergency contact.

Luisa picked him up from school and took Murphy to her house. The house was pleasently quite compared to Anna’s stony silence that filled his. They were all understanding as he stayed the weekend.

Luisa set four plates at the table and Murphy put spice to the chicken and added Rosemary on top of the bakes potato’s in the oven. Emori worked in front of the TV on her language homework and Otan was working late, having already graduated from school.

Murphy opened the bottom draw of the dresser in Emori’s room where he kept his close and had a shower, when he went back in the room, pulling out the pull-out bed from beneath Emori’s, he looked at her, and saw that she was already asleep.

There was a loud rapping at the door in the early hours of the morning. The sun had not risen. As soon as he heard it, he knew who it was.

Quickly springing to his feet, rushing to the door before the noise could continue and wake up the rest of the house, he saw that Luisa had beat him to it.

Hair unsmoothed, bleary eyed, Luísa wore her silk bottoms and blue camisole. She saw Murphy exit the hallways, “John, go to bed, it’s okay.”

Murphy didn’t move.

Luísa regarded him before opening the door.

On the other side stood Anna, drunk and angry.

“Where’s John,” her voice came at once, “The school told me you picked him up from them!”

“Anna, come inside, your letting the cold in.” Voice soft and even.

Anna stared at Luisa with distinct dislike but stepped past the threshold. Like a Vampire that had to be invited in.

Murphy stepped back into the shadow of the hallway before she saw him. Reason lost to him.

“You can’t just let my son stay here, and not tell me.” They walked past and into the dining room.

“He’s been here for three days. The school told you, I left you a message that I had him, and John texted you he was here this weekend.”

Her eyes narrowed, “He’s not your son.”

The house was silent.

“Go wake him up, tell him I’ll be in the car waiting for him.”

“I can’t let you leave with him, your intoxicated. I can’t believe you drove here and made it. I can’t let you drive with John, not with a moral conscience.”

“It’s fine!” She snapped. “Go wake him up!”

“You didn’t know where your son was until today. You haven’t been answering messages from the school or your own son. You hadn’t decided to look for him until today.”

There was a head of height between them, Luisa being taller.

There was a striking difference between them. Anna was dressed in a short black dress, cleavage highlighted. Heels that had given her an extra four inches. Her face camouflaged in expensive makeup.

Luisa was tall and almost willowy and wore very little makeup, but the air around her commanded respect.

Tonight, was the night that the enmity seemed to spill from Anna. “I tolerated you because your daughter is my son’s best friend, but today, that ends. I don’t want our children to see each other. You’re on the wrong side of town for me.”

“Maybe I live on the ‘wrong side of town’ but at least my children want to stay with me, at least I can care for children, at least I know where my children are. And my tolerance is equal for you, but our children are friends, and I would never want to change that. Now get out of my house.”

“John!” she screamed. “John!” She looked around, waiting for him to step into the light of the room.

The shuffling of feet left came into the hallway, joining him. Emori’s eyes narrowed.

“Ah shit.” Looking at the face of the drunkard.

Murphy moved into the room, his insides tightening and flopping. “I’m here!”

She whirled around, face livid, “Get in the car!”

“John, no.” That was Luisa. “She’s not fit to drive.”

“John get in the car.”

“John go back to bed.”

A second later Emori was by his side, along with Otan, looking angry and domineering.

Anna seemed to halt in her demanded, as if suddenly realising she was outnumbered. Her face hardened.

“We’re leaving now,” marching towards the door, she yanked it open, “Come on, let’s go!”

Numbly, feeling alienated, he followed.

“Murphy,” Emori said quietly, fingers tugging on the back of his shirt. “You can stay here, you can always stay here. You don’t have to go.”

Hesitating, “I can’t go with you, mum, you’ve been drinking.”

Her small figure seemed to vibrate, “We need to leave, these people …” her words drifted, as though no explanation was needed.

These people what?” Otan growled.

Anna looked at them, her hair falling from his style into disarray. Slamming the door behind her, Anna left.

They thought.

Moments later the car’s horns began blaring.

“I should go, I can’t be the reason this goes on longer.”

“John,” Luísa urged, “It’s unsafe to go.”

The car’s horns continued to blare. Outside, neighbour began exiting their houses, yelling obscurities. The car pulled away, the red taillights disappearing into the night.

3–

The next day, or, later in the day, when they all woke up at the appropriate time, they got ready for their day.

Luisa made pancakes, “John, you know you can come here anytime, right? Your always welcome, there will always be a bed here for you. You can stay longer, there is no need to worry.”

He nodded.

Murphy was thankful, grateful, really. But the situation was difficult. If he didn’t return to ‘home’ after school, his mother would likely change the locks on the house. And if he returned, it would be difficult to stay at Emori’s.

School resumed it normal rhythm. The teachers were nice to him, though they waited for him to make a fist and start mayhem, but Murphy’s mind was outside the classroom.

When it came to lunch, Emori and John kept the events to themselves. The day went on carelessly, and the most of the time, Murphy was debating on what to do. Even the sky matched his mood. It was one of those days when people bunkered down in dry places but the smell of rain still carried in peoples hair and clothes, dragging its presence everywhere.

“If you come back with me. You can live at our house. You kinda do already.”

If he didn’t go home, a wedge would be driven between him and his mother.

“I know.” Swinging his bag on his back, he made his way to the buses. “But-“

Emori’s face scrunched up. “Screw her! Screw them! Your mum doesn’t give a shit and you know it, she was making face last night to rest her conscience. She treats people like shit, too.”

“I can’t just stay at yours forever-“

“Yes you can.”

“Emori-“

“Shut it John, you’re coming home with me.”

And he did. If your ever in a situation where your dragged by a perpetually angry five foot something girl that is known deck people on the spot, you listen to her.

The whole way to the house, John’s stomach was in knots. Emori sensed the uncertainty.

“Maybe you can visit your mum in a few days, when things have calmed down?”

The next few days was the constant feeling like his belly was greasy and his mind cracked with worry. His fingers hovering over the call button on the phone, to call his Mum, to call his Dad and see how he was. His Dad at least called him every second day.

German newcomer Anna Luisa Ewers (Women) is the face to watch this season. She has been garnering comparisons to Lara Stone and Brigitte Bardot, both of whom are beauty icons. Anna debuted on the Paris runways during the F/W 2013 season, walking for Balenciaga, Giambattista Valli, Louis Vuitton, Stella McCartney, and Valentino. She made her appearance on the New York runways this season and was photographed by Mert and Marcus for her first Vogue Paris editorial. Her career can only go up from here.

Anna is also represented by Marilyn Paris and Model Management in Hamburg, Germany.

By Savannah M.
Image courtesy of Women Management

2

FIRST OF THE MEDICI POLITICAL DYNASTY // LAST SCION OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICI

Cosimo di Giovanni de’ Medici; Pater Patriae (”Father of his Country”)

aka Cosimo the Elder and Cosimo Pater Patriae (Latin for ‘father of the nation’). Lord of Florence. Born in Florence, inherited welth and expertise in banking from his father. Married Contessina de’ Bardi. Had three children; Piero di Cosimo de’ Medici “the Gouty”, Giovanni de’ Medici and Carlo di Cosimo de’ Medici (illegitimate with a slave woman named Maddalena). He was a great patron of literature, the arts and architecture. He was succeeded by his son Piero on his death. 

Anna Maria Luisa de’ MediciHer Serene Highness The Dowager Electress [Palatine of the Rhine]

Electress Palatine; Duchess of Neuburg, Jülich and Berg, of Cham and the Upper Palatinate; Countess of Mege. Only daughter of Cosimo III de’ Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany and Marguerite Louise d'Orléans. She was a patron of the arts and musicians. Married to Johann Wilhelm, Elector Palatine, who had syphilis, therefore they never had children. Her siblings were barren which left the family almost extinct at that point. After her brother Gian Gastone died, all of the Medici’s allodial possessions (including  £2,000,000 liquid cash, a vast art collection and robes of state and lands in the former Duchy of Urbino) were bestowed upon Anna. The most notable act that she passed was the Patto di Famiglia (”Family Pact”). Signed on October 31, 1737 and in collaboration with the Holy Roman Emperor and Francis of Lorraine, she will all the Medici’s personal property (all of art and treasures collected by the family for nearly 300 years) to the Tuscan state, provided that none of it was ever removed from Florence. 

Secrets of the Medici Tombs

The most important members of the powerful Medici dynasty were buried under the vaults of the Basilica of San Lorenzo in Florence, which were severely damaged and swamped with mud during the disastrous flooding of the Arno River in 1966. In 2002, Dr. Antonio Paolucci, Superintendent of Florentine Museums, granted permission to examine 49 of the Medici burials in the Medicean necropolis in order to restore and preserve them.

When they opened the tomb of Anna Maria Luisa de’ Medici, the last descendant of the royal house of Medici, scientist were surprised to find her funerary crown well intact but it suffered from corrosion and was damaged by the embalming acids used to preserve her body, and the damp environment caused by the 1966 flood. When the tomb of Anna Maria’s brother, Gian Gastone de’ Medici, the last Grand Duke of Tuscany, was opened, scientist were shocked to find nothing.

Later when examining what was thought to be a decorative stone slab on the floor, researchers found they were able to lift it up and discovered a secret vault at the bottom of a set of stone stairs. Inside they found several coffins containing the remains of Medici children ages zero to five and the coffin of Gastone. His remains were in fairly good condition, and he too, had a crown atop his head. It is speculated that the coffins were moved and hidden in 1857 when the Medici tombs were first opened and examined.

4

A portrait of the family of the future Leopold II (Then Grand Duke of Tuscany) and his wife, Maria Luisa of Spain. It was painted in 1773 by Wenceslaus Werlin.

On the left are Archduke Charles, still young enough that he hasn’t been breeched yet and playing with a dog, and Maria Theresa.

In the middle, Leopold gestures proudly towards his wife, who has their newest child, Alexander Leopold, in one arm. Her other arm is around their eldest son Francis, the future Francis II.

To the right are Maria Anna, carrying an apron full of flowers, and Archduke Ferdinand with a bird on his finger.

Source

‘Fatale’ - Model: Anna Luisa Ewers | Photographer: Mert Alas & Marcus Piggott | Editor-in-Chief / Styling: Emmanuelle Alt | Designers: Saint Laurent by Hedi Slimane, Borsalino

in which you study abroad in florence, italy and find a guide to the city in ashton, artist and overall art geek – a soulmate au inspired by prompts from this list.

disclaimer: i don’t speak a lick of italian (nor have i actually been to florence, italy), which means i relied a great deal on google, so if anything’s not entirely accurate, correct me if you wish, but kindly don’t jump down my throat when you do so. :-) momentary mentions of death and alcohol/drug use near the end, so this is a heads up that it’s there – skim through, scroll past, do what you must.

word count: 9124

Of all the artwork in Florence, for some reason, this portrait was what struck you the most. Not Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus, not Lippi’s Madonna and Child, and not even Michaelangelo’s David (which just the sight of had made a few tourists faint, a symptom of Stendhal syndrome according to another fellow museum goer), but rather, this particular portrait right in front of you.

You supposed your fixation with the portrait had to do with the fact that looking at it was like looking into a mirror – the image looking more like your own reflection than a painting. The only difference between you and the subject of the portrait was that you both wore different clothing – you in 21st century attire and her in attire appropriate of the time period…of the Renaissance, at least 400 years ago. That one minor difference aside, as eerie as it was to acknowledge, there was no doubt about it – the portrait’s subject was definitely a split-image of you.

Keep reading