inception complete

Something I really appreciate about the new BATB film is that the costumes managed to (1) pay perfect homage to the original color tones and styles as seen in the animation and yet (2) carry symbolic changes and account for characters’ personalities, while also (3) being period appropriate. Like, wow. Major kudos to the costume designer and associated staff on this one.  

For example, let’s just talk about Beast/Prince wardrobe, which I find really interesting and beautiful. BATB begins with a dance, and the Prince is in this very dark, regal yet kind of gaudy clothing, standing out from the sea of women in white. (He’s also wearing a makeup mask, which is just another awesome layer of symbolism and era-appropriateness that I will not go into right now.) 

Throughout the film, Beast’s clothes get progressively lighter: from dark, torn rags (like he’s a criminal, a prisoner in his own palace) to the iconic lighter blue suit at the dance…to the moment Belle declares her love and they’re both dressed in all white (in this case, a symbol of purity and absolution)…to the very end, where the Prince wears blue again, but this time it’s the lightest shade of blue we see him wear. This change also reminds me of the trailer, where the word “Beast” in the title grows lighter as it gets closer to the word “Belle”. Beast’s subtle clothing changes represent the changes in his disposition and character. His wardrobe follows the path of the curse, from its inception to completion, as the castle goes from dark to light, from winter to spring, from death to life. 

The two other dance scenes are also important. 

When Belle and Beast dance together for the first time, Belle is the one who stands out in that stunning yellow dress. When Beast lets her go, her yellow dress positively pops in an otherwise monochrome, snow-covered forest, like a beacon in the night. And as he watches her go, he returns to rags, representing his hope leaving him behind.

In contrast, when Belle and the Prince dance together at the end, they both stand apart from the crowd but for different reasons than before. Unlike their first dance, this time the Prince is the one who shines the most in an otherwise temperate crowd, which parallels the opening dance scene. Unmasked, the Prince is in a light blue and white suit, the opposite of how he dressed before; and yet, this ending suit almost matches how Belle was dressed at the beginning of the movie, in her classic blue and white dress. Meanwhile, although at first glance Belle’s mostly white dress at the end might make her appear like just another girl in the crowd, she really stands out due to the roses on her dress, like a physical manifestation of spring coming back to the castle and the curse being lifted. 

An Inceptiversary bingo prize for Ambitious, who requested an illustration of a scene from their fantasy AU fic. A bit more information on what’s going on in this and some concept sketches/WIP progression available on AO3.

archiveofourown.org
It's Your Dream, Mr. Eames - jbluphin - Inception [Archive of Our Own]
Summary: Yusuf's new compound makes everyone fall for Eames while dreamside. Everyone, that is, except Arthur.

I’ve just finished my first fic for the Inception fandom! It’s already complete, so I’ll be posting a new chapter every day this week.

The Raven’s Chronicles, 2

The period between capitalism’s inception and its complete consolidation was a happy one.

For me.

Depression, mistrust, rage, people starving on the streets, freezing under bridges, aggression on the hands of drunkards, everything very merry.

It was on a morning of a bleak December, while the clouds hung oppressively low, that three boys decided to visit the “World’s tallest building,” the symbol of towering capitalism, the Empire State Building.

For ease of narration, were they: The Boy, with sprouts of beard, The Friend, with short, thin and smooth hair, and The Other Friend, with hair that fell like water, and a stupid smile.

The three serpentine across the city until they reach the tourist trap. Immediately, upon contemplating the building’s height, the Other Friend declares he won’t be going up with them.

He feels his stomach writhing. Unaware of what causes it, be lack of food or the intimidating size of the construction, Otherfriend turns around and buys a hotdog from a vendor. He tells the others he’ll be waiting for them down at the base of the building while he removes a peculiarly curly hair from his hotdog.

The other two crawl inside the elevator with a few other tourists. The music almost covers their dialogue, while the Boy says that “he’s a coward. He’s always been afraid of heights.” The sentence is quickly responded with a “let him be.” and other unnecessary things. When the box reaches the top floor, tourists leak out into the open area. I land on the iron pinnacle that tops the very extremity of the building and wait.

The two walk towards the edge, and lean over, trying to spot Otherfriend. The Boy points somewhere, sure it is him, but Friend says it’s not, that his hair is not so dark. Friend then points to someone else, but Boy comments that the person was too fat to be Otherfriend. After a few seconds, they stop.

“Y’know…” Friend starts “Y’know when you’re very high up somewhere, and you look down, and all you can think is ‘damn, this is high as fuck. If I jump, I die. Let’s fucking do it’ and you kinda have to hold yourself back?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” The Boy says, approaching Friend a little bit more.

“You feelin’ it?” Friend asks as Boy puts his arm over his shoulders.”

“Nah, I’m feeling something else.”

“What?” He looks at him, inquisitively, unaware of anything. Boy holds his stare as he speaks.

“Y’know when you’re very high up somewhere, and you look down, and all you can think is ‘damn, this is high as fuck. If I throw someone, they’ll die. Let’s fucking do it’ and you kinda have to hold yourself back?”

“Wait, what?”

One step backwards and another one forward and, without a single scream, the Friend is not there anymore. No one on the top notices, no one on the ground looks up.

Except poor Otherfriend. He looks for the others atop the building, and recognizes the shape of Friend. He seems too close, and Otherfriend does not fully understand, even after being hit.

First the legs, against his head. The skull shatters and the limbs are spread open. The Friend’s scrotum hits the broken bone and almost explodes. When the two bodies hit the floor, Otherfriend’s head is inside Friend’s body.

When the police arrives at the scene, the Boy is closing a taxi’s door.

Now you may ask: Why was this important? Why tell us this?

The truth is, the boy wasn’t feeling particularly inclined to pushing his friend off the building. He wasn’t aiming at his other friend, no, he wasn’t even thinking of it. When he came to, he found himself supressing a gasp, closing the door, running away from the scene.

He thought about leaving the car, about going back in. But, who knows why, he didn’t like that idea. I didn’t like that idea. He remains in the taxi as it takes a straight path towards the Central Park. It turns left, then left again, leaves the island and enters another neighbourhood. Then another. Then another. After three hours pass, the taxi finds itself on the crime scene, watching the effervescent police walk around and separate the sidewalk from itself with their yellow strips.

He leaves the car, ignoring the driver’s screams, and walks forward until his body rips a strip and he is stopped by a fat, strong and moustached police officer. He asks what the boy wants, and is quickly silenced when his gun leaves the holster and the boy shoots him in the face. The remaining cops respond like in their training, and are, one by one, silenced with a single bullet in the forehead. The taxi driver still has time to yell “forget the money, man!” as he is hit in the kneecap and falls prone on the ground. The gun’s penultimate bullet forgoes flesh in favour of destroying the car’s engine.

Only then I descend from atop the iron pinnacle of the construction. Like a black rock, my body falls the more than hundred and three floors until I spread my wings a metre away from the concrete. I glide, with the remaining energy, until I land right in front of the boy. He still has enough strength to pull his arm up and point the gun to me. He asks me what, why, how, and I reply.

He pulls the trigger. The bullet rushes to me and, decelerating, stops. It then retreats back into the gun’s barrel, out of it and into the boy’s head.

My answer echoes in his ears as his life is taken.

“Practice.”

u ever think about how the word “inception” has acquired a completely different meaning because of the movie and we’re someday going to lose the origin of that and just have two completely different definitions of inception….this is how language gets fucked up

Age Gaps: IHYV Is A False Equivalence

I’m not watching Goblin. I have very little idea as to what is going on and how it is being handled. The little idea I do have, from every gifset that gets through my block, is that it is gross.

This morning, I saw that Banghae had an Anon trying to equate the age gap between Soo-Ha and Hye-Sung, the main characters of I Hear Your Voice, with the age gaps happening in dramas like Goblin. And as someone who knows and loves IHYV backwards and forwards, I went on a twitter rant with Audrey as we went through the major points of this false equivalence.

Because whenever this issue comes up–underage female characters or actresses paired with significantly older male characters or actors, I Hear Your Voice gets dragged as if what is going on with a younger male and older female is somehow equivalent to what is going on with these teenage girls and technically, barely adult women.

Just to be clear on my stance, IHYV is not a problematic fav for me. I think it is one of the best representations of a healthy age gap romance I’ve ever seen. It’s a regular favorite and my opinion over three years hasn’t changed. I’ll discuss why further.

And I think it’s really telling that IHYV is the only example people can think of when we, as a community, call out the inappropriate nature of a man in his thirties having a love story with either a teenage girl or a girl who is barely into her twenties. And whenever it comes up, the attitude is Stop complaining because it happens to boys in media too, you hypocrite.

If IHYV is your only example, it is obviously not happening with the same frequency that it happens to girls, and thus not equal.

I tackled some of this in my essay You Cannot Properly Kiss a Fifteen Year Old Girl. It is my third and final point in that essay.

So, under the cut you will find discussion on: Hye-Sung and Soo-Ha’s romantic journey from inception to completion, the sexualization of teenage girls vs teenage boys, and how IHYV avoids abuse of power.

Keep reading

10

Bubi Canal’s Magic Garden Solo Show: A Journal of Realms In Between.

On the eve of the Ides of March—which was also π (Pi) Day, as Aaron pointed out later—Bubi’s second solo show opened at Munch Gallery. It was a momentous day, which I anticipated with great emotion, having witnessed the creation of many of the images from inception to completion. Like Bubi mentioned during a conversation we had after the show, the exhibit also functions as a diary of the life of imagination.

Bubi and I habitually meet during the week at Little Skips, the Bushwick café where we run internet errands and bounce ideas around. I had the honor of helping Bubi generate some of images for the show, by modeling or providing assistance, which gave me unique insight into the power of resourcefulness and ingenuity.

For the piece Lord, I wore a headband Bubi created for the character, with large beaded necklace and bracelets he strung in his trademark primary color wave. Moreover, he had me hold a baton with a plastic chicken on it, a sign of pure kismet, as chickens are so close and dear to my heart.

In a day-to-day, organic fashion, Bubi gathers artifacts from his daily comings and goings and creates an archive from which he draws materials for his work. Last summer, many afternoons were spent taking photographs and filming video, with endless variations Bubi would later edit into final mix of the show.

The video Hologram went through various incarnations, and its characters were also photographed for portraits. For one session, we went to Flushing Meadows park on Madonna’s birthday to do some filming and stills, next to Philip Johnson’s New York Pavilion. Miuko, Idan, Bubi and I enjoyed an impromptu picnic with tortilla española and sandwiches, and we listened to music on a bluetooth Bose on a sunny day.

As I saw the show, I remembered conversations where Bubi mentioned how he had created dioramas in the basement of his mother-in-law’s house, gathered plastic pieces and knit sweaters to remodel into sculpture, and also anecdotes, similar to the ones I have about favorite pieces of clothing, on how items he had collected from even years ago suddenly found a place in his ouevre.

In the end, the show is a story of the power of conviction and mentalism, of how keeping your desires in focus, within an atmosphere of generalized well-being, is fundamental to manifesting creativity and its end products. The world of dreams, for instance, can become concrete, teletransported from another dimension to the physical realm.

Speaking of serendipity, Abel and Idan had gifted me a sweater on my birthday that, upon first glance, was obviously meant for this opening. I wore the primary color waved creation with Vinti Andrews Eco-Jeans, Keith Haring SPRZ socks Scooter had also gifted me on my birthday, Adidas Jam Master Jay Ultrastar Superstar vintage sneakers, a bespoke necklace by Bubi, Alain Mikli/Philippe Starck Biocity frames and a Nadaam/Knickerbocker cashmere baseball cap customized with an insignia Bubi brought me from a flea market in Sicily.

Bubi was wearing a sweater of his own design, custom manufactured by his friend Senyor Pablo in Spain.

After the show, we all went to the El Nuevo Amanecer Mexican/Dominican restaurant to grab a bite. Ladyfag was having the afterparty for the show at Holy Mountain; we went to the super well-attended event late into the night, and even enjoyed a surprise concert by Crystal Waters.

Event photos: 2. Jon Nalley (Social + Diarist). 3. Lillan Munch. 8, 10. Alicia Munárriz. 

okay but what if harmon and roiland just remove all of the previous eps from adultswim and add mr. poopy butthole to every episode in some, small way and then re-upload them to completely incept the fanbase (and future fans) so that it looks like he’s been there the whole time

The story of a book...

So many of you asked me how long it took me to get my first book together. So here’s a timeline.

First of all I always loved to write and won a couple of short story competitions as a teen, but then I dropped it all for college and work.

Originally posted by iroh-and-tea

In 2010 I quit my well paying job because I could not take it anymore!

Originally posted by thespongelina

So I started a part-time teaching job and a store on etsy (it was quite successful, but I don’t sell crafts anymore), dedicating the rest of my time to writing. I wrote the first draft of An Italian Adventure in Italian (my first language), in the present tense. It was complete in 2011. It was called Magia e farfalle (Magic and butterflies) and it sucked.

Originally posted by thatchickwiththegifs

Oh, and…nobody could read it (I live in the US).

Originally posted by dirtyprettylove

On the bright side, my mom loved it.

Originally posted by secretosdeunsentimiento

So, I rewrote it in English. It still sucked. I rewrote it in the past tense, chopped, rearranged and rewrote. Meanwhile I got a tenure-track full time position which meant that in order to carve at least 20 hours of writing per week I had to write every evening and every weekend.

Originally posted by cedrichohnstadt

And one day…around January of 2013 (3 years later), I finally liked it!

Originally posted by miss-mangakat

So, did I just write a novel or was I delusional? The book was now 135,000 words. I shared it with my hubby and with another good friend (my mom doesn’t speak English) and started looking for a writers’ group, to get some peer advice

Originally posted by ew-u-ugly

And well, the first two writers’ groups I tried were not a good fit for me. Finally in March 2013 I met a group of honest writers from all kinds of genres, walk of like, and skill levels, but PASSIONATE and GENUINE about writing. I was home! Unfortunately they did not meet often enough for me, so I became one of the organizers myself to have more meetings :)

Originally posted by game-of-mind

I started hacking at my novel again, removing parts that dragged, rewriting good ones to make them better, explaining what was obscure. In June 2014 I was done reading the entire novel to the group. They had very much liked it and the hefty bundle was now 30,000 words shorter (105,000). Meanwhile I had written book 2, 3 and part of 4, so MUCH FASTER than book one! I finally felt like I knew what I was doing!

Originally posted by keepcalmandprogram

One of my writer friends with experience in the show biz (she’s a retired producer in NY who won several Emmys) told me book one was still way too long. While there is no rule set in stone, for a first time author seeking an agent a very long book was a red flag. I argued, but eventually slashed it to 90,000 removing some chapters I thought were not essential and rearranging the timeline. In my writer virgin state of mind, I sent some queries out to a bunch of agents. In a time span between one hour and twelve weeks I got a lot of rejection letters.

Originally posted by fiftyshadesofdestruction

Fortunately among them, I queried her Holiness, the Query Shark. 

Originally posted by operattack

In her magnanimous heart, she actually replied to me (most rejections are standard forms) saying the story held promise but she thought I was pitching to the wrong agents. My story, she said, sounded like young adult, not contemporary fiction.

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

I looked it up. My book was the definition of young adult. All my favorite books were young adult. Shame on me! I had made a fool of myself in front of all those agents proving to them (and me) that I hadn’t done enough research. I had committed the rookie mistake number one, four years into working on the darn book I thought I MUST be ready to send it out and queried too soon.

Originally posted by palemenn

So I did more research. Lots of it. It turns out that for first time authors independent publishing might be a much better option, even more so if you are working on a series, even more so if your book is quite different from the mainstream in some way (mine is). Ha!

In the spring of 2015 I finished the fourth book and I started blogging about my writing experience. Things went nuts. In three months I gained 3,000 followers on twitter, 1,600 on tumblr and hundreds of daily visits to my main blog.

Originally posted by viral-motivation

This gave me confidence. Meanwhile, believe it or not, I had gone through book one 3-4 times more. A bunch of writers and friends had read it and liked it. It was now down to 70,000 words and I felt like I could add back some of the chapters I had removed but kept thinking about. Guess what? My style had changed so much since then that I had to rewrite them entirely.

Originally posted by earloffabulousness

Finally I felt like the book was REALLY DONE, even though my friends did not believe me. 

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

But I was. I started recording the audiobook in July 2015, like some of you know. This turned out to be amazing for proofing. There’s nothing like reading your book out loud and then having to re-listen to it for finding typos. 

Originally posted by mecansedetropezar

Also, at the beginning of July 2015 I found the perfect artist to illustrate my covers! At the end of August 2015 the audiobook was complete and edited and the cover was done!

In September 2015 I got the first proof of the paperback. There is nothing like the fear of seeing that little cardboard box and knowing that it contains the first specimen of your hard work, years of tears, sweat, blood, defeat and…

I cried. My hubby cried. The book was real, and it looked GORGEOUS. So, how long does it take to write a book? As long as you need. If you are a writer, you’re not going to give up no matter what. Book one took me 5 years from inception to completion, but book 2, 3 and 4 will all be released in 2016 and took maybe 4-6 months to complete (some longer than other). My word of advice to you is to to keep writing. Very few people in the world can just sit at a piano and play, or pick up a brush and paint. Writing is no different. Just keep writing.

GBA