“GUITAR UKULELE DUET” - a beautiful pair of sisters sitting on their front steps playing a Guitar and Ukulele duet. I love their nautical school girl outfits and rolled down black silk stockings. Older sister has her hair fashionably bobbed and finger waved, younger sister with her hair softly fluffed, white bloomers under her skirt. Sultry and sweet, I would love to sit at their feet and listen to them strumming and singing their old time songs.
Ardyn. Grazing your fingers along soft fabric. Clinging to old memories. Daydreams. The gentle strum of a guitar.
Prized antiques. Incense. Swimming underwater for too long and rushing up to catch air. Shaking off your nerves. Fake smiles when you’re too tired to pay attention.
Ravus. Piercing gazes and rigid movements. Deep breaths. The way your hands glide as you do calligraphy. Feeling the first few drops of rain fall on your head. Buttoning your shirt all the way up. Fleeting touches. Pursing your lips. The way threads weave a tapestry.
Aranea. Clothes bunched up and tossed aside. Biting your lip. Bloodied knuckles. Pushing your sunglasses up into your hair. Lighting a match. The way your feet briefly float in the air as your running slows down. Quickly flipping through a book. Taking risks and not looking back.
for all the honest world to feel (trixya) (2/8) - dare
When your skill set is limited to being a real person around your friends and family and a fake person around random strangers, you’re kind of fucked for being a real person around a basically-stranger.
He texted Katya: ’can’t remember how to interact with ppl when they’re not paying and lining up to meet me. do u know a good therapist.’
(AN: part two! i meant to get this up on monday so it would be one week squarely, but, on the flipside, this is legit twice as long as part one at 8.3k words. whoops? this is for M, who is to blame, because she said “where’s my 100k trixya slowburn fic with bonus adore friendship” and sunk me down this rabbit hole. i don’t quite love u 100k worth, but like, somewhere between 30-40% of that probably. thank u to dandee for reassuring me that this isn’t garbage!)
Yes! Sasquatch 2 is alive ! Shell pink relic of 1964 Duosonic. Seymour Duncan Antiquities rule…this guitar sounds killer. Tone is Hendrixesque, in fact i think he recorded some of Axis on one. Sort scale with 12’s is a great feeling combo- David Byrne had the right idea. I love this monster!Another Rory’s Relics. You can check it out at Mike and Mike’s Guitar Bar if you are in the Seattle area per chance….
Summary: Kibum’s asked to return for another season of WGM and Jonghyun is asked to appear in the show for his first time. But what neither is expecting is that they’ll be paired together!
Jonghyun isn’t expecting a call from the producers of We Got
Married and he sure as hell isn’t expecting for them to want him to appear on
the show. “Wait, wait…so you want me
on this season?” he asks sitting up on his bed and stroking Roo’s head. “Yes,
we want you.” The man spoke into the phone with a smile. “You’ll be perfect for
this season!” Jonghyun’s eyes widen and he has to clamp a hand over his mouth
to keep from squealing. I’m going to tell Kibum and he’s going to flip. “We
plan to start filming next week.”
“So you’ve already chosen my…” Jonghyun hesitates before
saying the word. “Spouse?”
“Yes, we have.” His heart was doing backflips now. Who is
she? Is she someone I’m close to? Is she from a popular girl group or maybe
she’s an actress. Thinking these thoughts a goofy grin spreads across his lips.
“Wow…” he exhales shoving a hand through his silver hair. “Thank you.” The
producer hums softly into the phone. “We thank you for agreeing to it.” Jonghyun chuckles, thanking the producer
one last time before hanging up. “Roo-ah!” he coos. “Appa’s going to be getting
married soon.” He says kissing the top of the dogs head, a giggle or two
escaping him. He felt like he was meeting Kibum all over again—the flutters and
nerves—he thought that they had gone away, but anything that made him happy,
the flutters would reappear. He jumps off of his bed and does a quick
(embarrassing) dance in his room. He’d have to call and tell the other members,
but first he’d have to tell his sister because she knew how much he wanted this.
So without much thought he dials her number and the second she answers he asks
about her day and then he goes off telling her about what just happened. “Are you
serious?!” She exclaims, Jonghyun was standing up, nodding smugly. “Yeah, they
called a few moments ago.”
“Oh my god, congratulations!”
“Haha, thank you.” He smiles to himself, heaving a happy
sigh. “Sooo~ who’s the lucky girl?” Jonghyun shrugs, his hands slapping against
his hips. “I have no idea, you know how this show works.” Sodam laughs lightly.
“I couldn’t help but ask.” They continue to talk; Jonghyun steps out onto his
front lawn and stretches his hands above his head. The sun was shining and the
sky was a beautiful blue—clear and breathtaking—a symbol maybe? Jonghyun loved
those types of things. An everyday symbol of joy, a light, a fluffy cloud or
glowing moon. Everything meant something. He ends the call with Sodam saying
that he’d meet with her later. He stares at his phone clutching it in his
hands. He wanted to tell Kibum—the words were going to spill out of him and
splatter onto the concrete below his feet. “They want me to appear on the show.”
He’d tell Kibum and they’d celebrate over wine and whatever Kibum fixed up that
night. He came over to Kibums house without much notice or any notice at all. “Just
be expecting me.” He’d say and Kibum always would. Jonghyun shifts his weight
to his left foot and squints into the sunlight. Sometimes it feels as though we’re
married…Jonghyun never voiced such thoughts. He kept them to himself as though
those words were the most precious and most dangerous gift he could ever give
Weekend guitar shopping at Folkway Music in Waterloo, Ontario, Canada. Here we have a 1964.65 Toastmaster, a 1968 Gibson ES-175 in near mint condition, a 1927 Washburn Type A, and a trio of acoustic guitars: to the left is an original 1930s Cromwell, made by Gibson during the depression. The two on the right are modern Collings “Waterloo” repros of the Cromwell, which itself was a budget version of a Gibson L-00.
The other photos were taken in nearby St Jacobs, Ontario. It’s a quaint small village full of boutiques and shops that sell local arts art, crafts and antiques.