Levi peers inside the envelope for a few seconds before pulling out the contents: an old brown and white photograph, the decoratively cut edges of which press softly against his fingertips as he holds it gently and stares. Against a simple background the camera has captured a man and a woman, both young and modestly dressed with serious expressions on their faces. She sits in a chair, straight-backed in her white shirt and long, dark skirt while he stands beside her, wearing what Levi can easily guess is his best suit, and holding a wide-brimmed hat. “You have her eyes,” Erwin whispers, pointing at the woman’s face. “See? And her nose.” Levi turns the photograph around to see the black ink markings on the back: Kenny and Kuchel, 1919. “Where did you get this?” His words are hardly more than a gasp. “It wasn’t easy to find,” Erwin admits, “but I did help develop the filing system. You can retrace many steps when you know how the information moves and where it’s kept.” Levi turns the photograph around again and keeps staring, his eyes glued to the woman – his mother. Levi feels as though he needs to make himself believe it really is her, that this is how she looked when he was born, maybe how she still looked not long before she started to waste away. What Erwin said is true: she has the same eyes and the same nose that Levi sees when he looks at himself in the mirror. Her dark hair is fitted on top of her head in an elaborate array of braids; it makes her neck look longer, Levi suddenly remembers her telling someone, a woman from their neighbourhood who sometimes brought him apples when she visited. In a flash he recalls a score of other memories, of his mother brushing her long hair, how far it fell down her back when she plaited it, how she used to tickle his face with the tassel formed by the tips.
Kuchel, make up, edit - me Kenny, important hair assistant, location music and food provider - Near
very casually and out of character-ly listening to blasting Epica’s Divine Conspiracy album to pump me up while trying to brush my hair with his help and relieve excitement and stress only to headbang next and make the hairclips jump and having to fix them back again for the next photo And yes the book is obviously the one you’re thinking
Haaa I remembered that Instagram only uploads the first picture in a set
All the Pip-boy stuff! Such electronic. Very weather. Much wow.
Breakdown of my Pip-boy before it gets reassembled. I’ve got four working components currently: a scroll wheel harvested from an old computer mouse, a clicky knob (potentiometer for you nerds,) a cut-down mini Bluetooth speaker, and an EL panel to act as a backlight in my screen.
I’ve got several colored gels on the screen (two red, one yellow) to turn the bluish-white of the panel a nice Mojave amber. The image itself is just a screenshot printed out and brushed with a bit of oil to make it translucent. The EL panel and inverter are both from Sparkfun electronics.
The speaker was the big project for this con season. I’d had the entire unit just velcro’d in, but it was so bulky that it was forcing the cast open when it hit my arm. Disassembling and placing the parts went better than expected, only one wire needed to be re-soldered, and it still works. It’s still held in by Velcro so it can be removed to charge, but I can reach the off/on switch while it’s mounted.