shakespeare twelfth night

Shakespeare plays as Onion headlines

Hamlet: 

Twelfth Night:

Macbeth:

Julius Caesar:

Titus Andronicus: 

Henry IV Part 1:

Two Gentlemen of Verona:

Measure for Measure:

Coriolanus:

Othello:

The Tempest:

The Winter’s Tale:

King Lear:

shakespeare aesthetics

romeo and juliet: suburban july. scraped knees, bruised knuckles, blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in a breeze. burning inside. an ill-fitting party dress, a t-shirt you cut up yourself, the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friend’s house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn-looking basketball hoop at the end of the cul-de-sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip-flops. a eulogy written on looseleaf. the merciless noontime sun.

hamlet: speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half-remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn, mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you’d say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins, books with cracked spines, books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls’ day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. a big black t-shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil under your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

twelfth night: wicker deck furniture. new england summer. big dark sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean, patio umbrellas flapping in the wind. chlorine smell. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love, love for the idea of love, love for love’s sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar, a crab fisherman with tattoos, a pretty boy with a slackened tie. a light house. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. finger guns. big floppy sun hats. double-speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drunk on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you’re unprepared for, hope you weren’t expecting, pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. pool noodles. becoming less of a stranger.

macbeth: the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat, the stillness after battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. a sulfur smell. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12:00. a snake that crosses your path, an owl that watches you, a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke. dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now. 

much ado about nothing: the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck, military supply duffel bags in the hall, hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch, a pitcher of iced tea. barbecue. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. indian summer. ill-timed proclamations. stomach-clutching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen, a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog-eared rhyming dictionary. camomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you have a home until you’re there. 

king lear: cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lightning, a too-big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red-black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the tips of your teeth. the blown-out windows of skeletal houses. decay. jokes that aren’t jokes, shutting up, holding your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods, wondering if the gods are listening, wondering if the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

a midsummer night’s dream: wet soil/dead leaves smell. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill somebody slipped you. fear that turns to excitement, excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hollow in an old tree. glow-in-the-dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

The signs as female Shakespearean characters

Aries: Desdemona (Othello)

Taurus: Cordelia (King Lear)

Gemini: Beatrice (Much Ado About Nothing)

Cancer: Miranda (The Tempest)

Leo: Titania (A Midsummer Night’s Dream)

Virgo: Juliet (Romeo and Juliet)

Libra: Hermia (A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream)

Scorpio: Lady Macbeth (Macbeth)

Sagittarius: Helena (A Midsummer Night’s Dream)

Capricorn: Viola (Twelfth Night)

Aquarius: Katherina (Taming of the Shrew)

Pisces: Ophelia (Hamlet)

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I’ve started a series where I wanted to do modernized!Shakespeare. I don’t think its finished but these are some of my favorite characters so far. A few things:

  • The men in Midsummer Night’s Dream are so awful.. @willy shakes set the women free please…. set them free. also let the ladies date
  • [looks at my half-dozen drawing of Benvolio/Mercutio vs. my single drawing for Romeo/Juliet] What do you mean Bencutio isn’t the main couple in R&J?
  • #LetBenvolioSayFuck2k17
  • I kept the soccer thing for Viola & Duke… She’s the Man is flawed but it’s also my childhood just let me keep the soccer thing
  • I demand more genderqueer Viola
  • Shoutout to anyone who picks up on Hippolyta’s outfit i know its rly obvious but just. shoutout
  • Hero deserves so much better than Claudio. Hence, the obvious Hamilton…. In fact there’s a lot of designs clearly inspired by certain actors…..
  • One old Mercutio designs is inspired by @crystallizedtwilight which im like 90% sure their design is also inspired by certain R&J production’s character design but anyways credit to them
Shakespeare Characters Saying 30 Rock quotes

Macbeth: Your boos are not scaring me. I know most of you are not ghosts.

 Friar Laurence: Science is my most favourite subject, especially the Old Testament.

 Lady Macbeth: There’s only three things standing between you and winning: your breasts, and wanting it bad enough.

 Ariel: I don’t think it’s fair for me to be on a jury because I’m a hologram.

 Mercutio: Tell her you want to donate her body to science and you’re science.

 Richard II: There is no problem in this world that can’t be solved by throwing money at it.

 Henry V: When you’re handsome nobody ever tells you the truth. For years I thought I spoke excellent French.

 Olivia: Listen up, fives. A ten is speaking.

 Timon: Goodbye forever, you factory reject dildos.

Shakespeare names to name your child

Polixenes
Autolycus
Saturninus
Flaminius
Flavius
Doll Tearsheet
Bardolph
A Bear
Servillus
Alcibiades
Caska
Pistol
Egeus
Soothsayer
Canker Bolingbroke
Bassianus
Bushy
Bagot
Green
The Princess of France
Three Witches
Nick Bottom
Gonneril
Fool
Cesario
Andrew Aguecheek
Toby Belch
Senator 2
Fourteen Bras
Nurse
Hotspur
Patience
Moth
Speed