For those of you who have decided to try and ride out Irma, here are some tips from a girl who has weathered many hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico.
Fill your bathtub and washing machine with water to be used as non-drinking water later.
Empty your dishwasher and put your important documents placed inside ziplock bags in it, unplug it to make sure it doesn’t turn on. This isn’t a safe, the items might still get wet but it’s better than doing nothing to them.
In the event of flooding, DO NOT GET IN YOUR ATTIC (if you have no choice, take an ax with you) people drown in attics.
If you need help, hang something big and white out your top window so rescuers can find you.
If you have a portable generator, do not use it inside. Keep it at least 20 feet away from windows/doors. Do not plug it into a wall outlet.
Lower the temperature of your a/c and fridge to the lowest possible temps and then do not open unless necessary.
Lock all doors and close windows, air vents, and fireplace dampers. Turn off fans, AC, and forced air heating systems. Seems counter-intuitive to the above but do this once it gets bad (turning off everything).
Stay in a room with no windows or in a closet, toward the center of your house. Have a television or a battery-operated radio to make sure you are getting updates on the hurricane. Stay inside until officials say that danger has passed. Calm weather does not mean a storm is over.
Remember that if you can’t get through 9-11, that twitter saved many cabooses in Harvey. Tweet the police department directly but also keep trying to call (be careful to not drain your phone and they won’t help you during the storm).
Put your name and social security number on your arm with a sharpie so you can be ID’d later. I’m not trying to be glum here but it’s that serious.
Okay what the fuck. This is the most obnoxiously American headline I’ve ever seen. Apparently the worlds’ great landmarks merely exist to serve as sets for TV shows. This is so fucking disrespectful. Here’s a better headline: “One of Malta’s landmarks has just been destroyed.” Or literally anything besides this consumerist clickbait crap.
Imagine if this show had been filmed in the 90s and we would have gotten headlines about Dubrovnik during the Yugoslav Wars like “Iconic GoT King’s Landing set bombed by Serb forces”. Ugh.
Summary: Y/N finds herself stricken with grief over Dean’s self-loathing; meanwhile, the elder Winchester is trying to come to terms with a newfound revelation of his feelings and how he can voice them out.
Warnings: Dean finding it hard to voice out his feelings, fluff, maybe a bit of angst?? Not entirely.
A/N: Will probably be making this into a series because I’m a sucker for Dean.
The idea was born out of me watching a few fanvids with our favorite hunter which show just how much he has been through. I mean, both Winchester’s have had to deal with a lot of crap, but my soft spot for Dean is what drove me to writing this.
The room is dead silent.
Save for the sound of hush snores and breaths and the whisper of window through vents and into the motel. Outside the sky spread across the city of Atlanta in a blanket of onyx, clusters of stars dotting it. Y/N lies still in her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to tame the inner turmoil in her chest. Beside her the sheets shift. Dean says something, something about going to wash up before Sam wakes up, but she doesn’t quite catch him.
“Y/N!” he calls, snapping her from her reverie.
The young girl turns to him, head lolling against the pillow. “Yeah?”
“I said you should probably, too, since we still have some time.” She can’t see his face hidden in the pitch dark; she can’t see anything but the silhouette of the elder Winchester sitting up, his hair a disheveled mess atop his head.
“I should probably what?”
“Wash up?” He says it like its obvious. But Y/n doesn’t reply. Only continues staring at him, wide eyes, the light from the moon cast down on her face through the window—and the elder Winchester obviously notices this. Y/N spots a shift in his demeanor: attentive. Concerned. Even if she can’t see them, she guesses the elder Winchester’s eyes soften as he reaches out, touching her bare shoulder.
“Y/N,” Dean speaks. “You okay?”
“You’re an amazing person, you know that?” She blurts out.
The room silences once more.
Between them hangs a surprised quiet. Y/N is still on her back, still hazy-minded and emotional and fighting a hurricane raging in her chest. She can feel it bubble up her throat, spreading through her lungs, suffocating her. Soon she won’t be able to breathe. Soon, in this dim-lit and quiet room perfumed with her emotions, she will turn blue-faced and asphyxiated, because it’s too much.
He’s too much.
He is selfish, and yet altruistic; he is stern and authoritative, as disciplined as a soldier, but kind; Dean is self-sacrificial and generous and swollen with love and yet such despondent and negative emotions picked up as souvenirs from the life he has had to live . He is human, and a paradox in itself and Dean is good and Dean has always been good…
And it hurts Y/N to know that he doesn’t see this…
A moment ago, as she’d lay in his embrace, having to listen to him tear himself down; berate his image, hate himself because of a hunt gone bad. Two teenagers whose parents were vampires. They hadn’t managed to stop them and the kids died, and Dean was mourning his failure and the loss of two innocents. Y/N listened attentively to him as he’d spoke, and felt a wound in her heart coming undone. She feels tears brimming at her eyes just looking at him, at this man who doesn’t feel the way she does about him. This man who sees himself as a completely polar opposite of the reality. Y/N has known Dean for a long time, and she knows what he thinks of himself, what he wrongly assumes he is, and it hurts her.
For he has done so much for her, he has proven his own assumptions wrong and been her light in the dark of their lives, and all she wants is to do the same for the man she loves.
“What?” Dean asks in a hushed tone. She sniffles. There are tears beginning to roll down her face and she’s pretty sure he can see them from the way the light shines through the window.
“I said…” Y/N starts. “That you are an amazing human being, Dean Winchester. You—you are…good, and genuine, and you are my best friend. It hurts me to know that you don’t see this in yourself.”
“Y/N….” Dean tries to speak, but she cuts him off.
“No, okay? …”
“I didn’t save them.” He says sternly. “I could have, but I didn’t and now they’re dead. Don’t try and make me feel better for not doing my job.”
“But you tried—dammit, Dean, you tried. You did your best and your heart was in the right place.” She sniffles, rubbing her palm across her burning eyes. God, she hates this—hates herself for letting it come to the point where she’s in tears, but that’s just how strongly she feels about this matter. “Dean, I’m telling you now—you are a good man. Stop beating yourself up over this, over everything. I’ve known you for what—five? Six years? I know that me telling you this might be useless, but…..”
Y/N bites her lip, trying to level her voice. Between them hangs a deafening silence, ominous, painful. Dean is crying, she soon realizes. Quiet, pained tears that she only knows about when she hears his breath wobble as inhales.
Sitting up, she shifts and moves closer to the elder Winchester, pulling him in. His head rests in the crook of her neck, and she feels him shudder—vulnerable. Dean never lets anyone see him vulnerable, but maybe he should, because the weight he carries on his shoulders is too much not to.
The elder Winchester gulps thickly. “Y/n…”
“It’s okay….”She whispers, cradling his head to her chest, tears running down her cheeks, and the green-eyed hunter sniffles, and his tears touch her skin and it takes all of Y/n’s strength to not shatter.
Leaning back against the headboard, she brings the elder Winchester’s head to rest on her shoulder and he lets her in the quiet. The night drawls on—they stay like that. Together; quiet; feeling. Y/N cards her fingers through his hair as he sleeps, and when he stirs a bit she stops. Her hand floats from his head and rests beside the pillow.
Morning breaks with a burst of light beaming into the motel room and onto the two hunters. Y/N is awake, still holding Dean as she had been through the entire night, still drunk off his kisses and her emotions.
Tilting her head, she peers down at him. His eyes are shut and his breath fans against her bare skin, tickling it. “Dean?” She whispers, tentative and hush and desperate to not shatter the intimacy around them. “Are you awake?”
She waits for a response that doesn’t come, until the elder Winchester lets out an incoherent mumble, and then lolls his head to the side lazily.
His eyes flutter open as Y/N’s face splits into smile, and she continues her strokes on his hair. “Morning.”
“Did you stay up all night?” Dean asks, and she nods. “Why? I could have managed without you watching over me while I slept.”
“I wanted to.” Y/N shrugs, smoothing out stubborn strands of sandy-hair that stick up in all directions. She says it so easy, like she’s telling him her hobby, like it’s his hobby too. Like the previous night they hadn’t made love and she hadn’t pulled him out of the pit of his melancholy.
And Dean looks at her, right here, right now—really looks at her.
At her eyes and the rim of y/e/c embellished with flecks of gold, at hers lips and her ears and the wrinkles and creases drawn out in her tired skin, telling her story. Their story. They’ve been together for so long, now. Have been through so much, and the scars and blemishes and cuts and bruises painting Y/N’s skin matching Dean’s is enough of an alibi.
They’ve spent years together. It feels like a lifetime. And Dean loves that, and he loves her, and he wouldn’t trade anything for it because….He…loves her.
He has loved Y/N for years and he will continue to love her.
The realization is sudden and daunting. Out of nowhere, the green-eyed hunter’s heart begins to race, and his palms begin to sweat and he’s panicking, God, he’s panicking because Dean loves her.
And she loves him.
They leave the motel within the next hour once Sam arrives. Y/N runs a quick shower then brushes her teeth and Sam tells them about the vampire nest he took out. Dean pretends to listen even though he isn’t. He can’t. He’s ruminating over this new earth-shattering realization.
They’ve been dating for months; they’ve been sleeping in the same bed. They’ve been touching—God, they’ve been touching—but it is only now that his heart has chosen to drop this bombshell on his. This feeling; this plague.
What is to him? What can it be for the two them? All this time being with Y/N, Dean has avoided the thought. But the truth is the truth—it’s been lurking in the back of his mind, nudging at his conscience, asking his what if; what if it’s possible, what if he’s the one, and now all these questions are answered.
They sit in the car and begin to drive. The entire journey is spent with their fingers intertwined as Dean drives and his heart a mangled mess hammering in his chest. Y/N and Sam are laughing and talking about the hunt and Cas. He’s waiting for them at home, apparently, but Dean can’t bring himself to care about anything right now, because God, this is torture.
“Feeling okay?” Y/N asks him. The elder Winchester casts a brief glance at her, taking his eyes off the road.
“Just tired.” He answers, nodding. Lying.
But Y/n doesn’t push. Instead, she gives him a sad smile, squeezes his hand in hers, and Dean has to resist from swerving off the road.
His entire body feels electric and like its buzzing when they get home. He kills the engine and Sam and Y/N hoist their things onto their backs and clamber out, making their way into the house. Dean follows suit.
In the library, Castiel sits in waiting, and then rises once he hears the sound of footsteps. They say their hellos. Dean gives him a hug—he’s truly happy to see him—, they exchange pleasantries, and then he retreats into his room, his alibi being that he’s not feeling good.
When he’s alone, finally, the elder Winchester shuts the door behind him and then leans against it, dropping his bags onto the floor. His head tips back and his eyes shut.
Finally alone. Finally able to gather his thoughts. The hammering in his chest has slowed, and Dean immediately strips himself of his jacket and tosses it on the bed, left in nothing but his undershirt as he goes to sit at the edge. With his head bowed, he cards his fingers through his hair.
He needs to tell her.
Soon, as soon as possible. Dean has been a hunter all his life—he knows just how fleeting life is. He knows how one minute you’re there and the next you’re not, and thinking about Y/N never getting to hear him utter those three words to her makes his heart wrench. Not only once, either.
Dean wants to say it over and over.
To chant it, to sing it—his heart feels swollen with love and a craving and a peace that comes with knowing, and he wants to proclaim that, but how? He wonders.
That’s all he can do, for now. Wonder. Think. And that’s all he does for the rest of the evening, and that’s he does when he goes to sleep, and Dean wracks his mind over and over for the confidence he needs to utter those three words to Y/N, but it seems impossible.
He wonders how she does it so easily. ~*~*~*~
This is just a reminder to all of you: Dean is an absolutely
complex and imperfectly perfect and sweet human being who is just trying
to work through his emotions and get through this hell of a life;
please don’t forget.
Likes and reblogs are always welcome! Also, feel free to follow me to keep updated when i post part 2, or maybe even have it dedicated to you..? Just message me and let me know :)
Some people seemed interested in my method for astral travel (mind you, I define astral travel as transporting your consciousness to the astral plane, not as an out-of-body-experience like astral projection) so here I go!
Note: This is entirely based off my personal experience. YMMV. And I always encourage taking everything with a grain of salt, even when I write it. Ok? Cool. Now let’s get to this.
Step One: Safety
There are dangers in the astral. When I first started out, I was tricked by several malicious spirits and straight-up attacked by one. That’s a story for another day though. The important thing is that you learn from my mistakes and take precautions before traveling.
I don’t like giving out the exact details of my protections, but there are three key parts to it. Passive protections in my physical space, active protections on myself, and more passive protections in my astral space.
The passive physical protections include sigils for safety, crystals that absorb negativity, and a decoy poppet of myself designed to take the blow if any entity comes after me. Windows, doors, vents, and and other entry points to my space get special attention. I recharge and cleanse these things every month or so. New moons are good for this if you want to keep a schedule.
I do some shielding on myself each time I’m about to travel. I also wear protective jewelry. I charge and activate these every single time.
Inside the astral, I set up a perimeter of sigils and shields in my space to keep out any entity that wishes me harm and prevents them from lying about their identity. This can be difficult when you’re just starting out, but it’s worth it. If you’re able to create objects in the astral, you can do this to work full spells within the astral to protect yourself.
Be sure to read up on interacting with spirits beforehand as well.
Step Two: Relaxing and Letting Energy Flow
I make sure I’m as comfortable as possible when I astral travel. It keeps me from being too aware of my physical body. Normally I lay on my back or even my stomach, as if I’m going to sleep. When I first started, I also listened to nature sounds to calm me.
It’s a bit like meditating at first. I focus on my breathing and avoiding distracting thoughts. Once I get rid of whatever song was probably playing in my head and feel my body sinking into the mattress, I work on my energy flow.
For a few moments, I pause to let myself feel my energy. I like to visualize it as a river running through my body. Then, starting from the soles of my feet and moving up my body, I start checking for anywhere it’s not flowing smoothly. It’s a gut feeling thing. If part of that energy river feels wrong, I fix it. Typically I imagine the block as a big chunk of ice in the river, and I visualize fire melting it away.
I do the same melting ice visualization for any sore parts of my body that might be bothering me. I have some chronic pain issues, so this doesn’t take that pain away completely, but it helps me put it in the back of my mind for a while.
Step 3: Separating Energy from the Body
Once my energy is flowing freely, I keep a small part of my mind focused on that feeling while I move on to the next step.
Using your five senses in the astral takes practice, and for me it also takes a short warm-up before I go in. With my eyes still closed, I “look” at my room in my mind’s eye, from the same angle I would see it from where I’m laying. I take care to add every detail.
Once I’m sure I’ve recreated my space fairly well, I finally move my energy out of my body. I picture myself sitting up in bed, standing up, and stepping into the picture of my room I’ve created in my mind. It usually takes a couple of tries. I’ll pace around and touch things, focusing on what they should feel like, until my awareness of my physical body fades into the background.
Warning: As somebody with multiple mental illnesses who often dissociates, I can say from experience that this step can occasionally trigger my dissociation. If you start feeling wrong, immediately stop and ground, do any reality checks you may have, and eat something. You can try again later, but don’t push it if it’s harmful to you.
Step 4: The Door
It’s finally time to enter the astral. Note that, with practice, the first three steps only take a few minutes.
This was a piece of advice I saw ages ago. I don’t remember who said it, but I’ve seen it passed around quite a bit. When you’re ready to step into the astral, imagine a door that will lead you there. Don’t try to force the appearance of the door. Mine is the standard cheap white one that most modern houses seem to have. Some people have more ornate doors, and a few even have weird sci-fi ones. Just let the door exist in whatever way your subconscious sees fit.
I place my hand on the doorknob, take a second to feel the cool metal to continue adjusting to feeling things with my energy body, then open the door and step inside.
Step 5: Astral or Imagination?
Sometimes it can be hard to tell the difference between the actual astral plane and your own imagination. I like to do a quick test to make sure I’ve actually made it.
The astral has rules that your imagination doesn’t. My go-to test is to look at some random sturdy object and try to force it to bend with my mind. In my imagination, the sturdiest tree will tie itself in knots if I want it to. But in the astral, that tree won’t budge. I simply don’t have that level of control.
A lot of people attempt to fly if their astral body can’t already do so. Over time, you could also develop your own tests that work better for you.
Step 6: One Last Part About Touching Everything for Some Reason
Yes, I already talked about touching everything in my room before entering the astral. But I do like to do this one more time once I’m actually there. The first thing I do after my tests is wiggle my toes in the dirt. Then I feel the bark on the trees in my astral space, listen to the creek and the birds, and smell that unique forest smell. This would obviously be different if you’re not in a forest, but it really does help me stay in the right mindset. Plus it’s just neat to be able to feel things that don’t exist in the tiny apartment I’m traveling from.
Step 7: Enjoy!
At this point, I’m there. I have a sort of home base in the woods where I first entered the astral, and I spend a lot of time there, but I can come and go as I please. The rest is just a matter of practice.
• Your astral body may or may not look like your physical body. Some people have wings or tails, some people have an entirely different face, some aren’t even human, and others look completely the same.
• In the astral, I can easily create new objects and manipulate them, but anything that already existed before I got there is set in stone. Some areas of the astral have different rules, however.
• I want to reiterate that spirits may find you, and many can and will lie. Stay on your toes.
• Sometimes my physical body has odd little twitches while I travel. Nothing major, but it feels like my body is attempting to make the movements I’m making in the astral.
• When leaving the astral, I just walk back through the door into my room, then wiggle my fingers and toes until I feel like I can comfortably move the rest of my body. It helps to ground and get a snack after I come back.
If anybody has further questions about my astral experiences or what I do once I’m there, feel free to ask!
(This photo though) Credit to the owner of the photo here
You’d be damned if you were to turn into one of those people.
You knew what Stockholm syndrome was. You studied it. You had met people with it. He had taken care of most of them. You still felt that somewhere, somehow, Mingyu was sane. Sane enough to let you go at least. After this whole ordeal, you only wondered if something like this had happened previously.
It had been a week since Mingyu abducted you and you were still on your toes. There was no way to relax when you felt as if you could be killed or tortured at any time. You were kept in the room that he initially left you in but on the sixth day, he took you out of the room and introduced another to you.
the @meowraculouschatnoirzine is finally available for a free download (check it out here) which means that i can finally post my small piece in its entirely for you all. definitely head over to that link so you can get the entire thing in a PDF for free
not often i write gen fics, so i hope you enjoy! :)
Title: A Young Hero Pairing: Gen Fic, Gabriel Agreste & Chat Noir Summary: A heart to heart between a young hero and his father
A Young Hero
Today’s akuma had a vendetta against Gabriel Agreste.
Apparently M. Agreste had seen it fit to fire a company executive this morning. His personal assistant, Nathalie Sancoeur, said the exchange had only lasted sixty seconds — just long enough for M. Agreste to tell the man why he was being fired, give him instructions to clean his office immediately, and hand him back the golden name plate that had already been stripped from his door. Not even ten minutes later, Gabriel’s company building was on complete lockdown while the akuma stalked the halls searching for Gabriel Agreste to get his revenge.
Chat Noir only knew about it because Nathalie had called him in the middle of class to update him on the situation. So he transformed, called Ladybug, and told her that unfortunately, Gabriel Agreste was going to need some hasty protection detail before this new villain seriously harmed him.
“We’ve instructed all employees to lock themselves in their offices and take cover,” Nathalie explained to the two superheroes as the elevator halted on the top floor. Ladybug and Chat Noir kept their weapons drawn and eyed the vents and windows while Nathalie led them to Gabriel’s office. “M. Agreste is also remaining in his office, but so far there’s been no sign of the akuma.”
“He’s probably hiding in the building somewhere,” Ladybug frowned. “One of us will go track him down while the other keeps an eye on M. Agreste. I’ll—”
“I’ll watch M. Agreste,” Chat Noir cut in. “You go find the akuma and call me when you find him.”
“Are you sure? He’s not the easiest person to deal with.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware,” Chat Noir chuckled humorlessly. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he stays safe.”
Ladybug squeezed his hand before promising to call him as soon as she found something. Nathalie led Chat Noir into Gabriel’s office and locked the door behind him. It wasn’t often that Gabriel worked in his company office, but judging by the way he was still hunched over his desk without noticing Chat Noir’s entrance probably meant that today was a heavy work day. Chat Noir cleared his throat and waited for Gabriel to boredly look up from his desk and regard him as if he were nothing but an employee. “Ah. Chat Noir. I assumed you would be here soon.”
Sabino-Spots’ Guide to Traveling Hella Distances With Horses
This is my personal to do list when traveling various distances with horses. Enjoy.
One Hour - I don’t bother with leg protection, I stuff a haynet, which is usually more than enough to last my horse on the journey. IF you’re in doubt, pack a second net with a pre-loaded flake. Take a bucket of water just in case you break down, or if your horse gets thirsty, etc.
Two-Four Hours - this is where I start using standing wraps. These trips usually took me through some city of some sort and there was always stop and go, lots of turns, up and down inclines. Most gas stations have a hose spicket and will be happy to grant you access to them! These are fairly short trips so usually only 1 or 2 stops for gas. While the truck is filling, I’ll get the water and see if the horse needs a fresh hay net. I pre load 2 hay nets for these trips. These are very quick stops just to refresh, refuel and get back on the road.
Five-Eight Hours - This is where you need to take some extra care. Take coolers sheets and blankets for changing weather temps. Always check the temp in your trailer by observing the horse. Is he sweaty? Open more vents and windows if you can. If he’s fluffing and cold, apply what dressing is necesarry for the temp. Usually a sheet is plenty to keep them warm - unless there’s snow on the ground. Cooler and blanket for temps 20 and under, top vents closed, windows cracked just a bit for fresh air - literally about an inch. This is where I give up pre loading hay nets. I’ll pre load three, but my horses usually get bored of hay about 4-6 hours in - but it’s still there in case they want it. By this point, I’m traveling so far, I take however many bales I’ll need. I like to stop every couple of hours to offer water. I use a smaller bucket, it’s easier to tote, and if you’re offering water every 2 hours, they’re not going to get so thirsty that they need to drink 2 five gallon buckets of water. Of course you’ll probably have brought feed on this trip too.
9+ Hours - I do not recommend hauling this far without finding an overnight stable. It sucks. It sucks with two people driving, let a lone one. If you get tired behind the wheel, you’re putting more people in danger than just you and your precious cargo. These trips take a lot of planning, so start early. Plot your map, find the stables you’ll stay at over night. Do those stables have a place to house you? (some do!) Are you going to need to find a hotel? etc. Every two hours rule applies, as does a constant hay net. Again, don’t freak if they quit eating. Chances are, they’re either stressed or tired of eating hay.
Things to take with you - Extra, pre filled hay nets depending on your distance. - Extra halter, extra lead, extra trailer tie. - Bailing twine and duct tape; in case stuff breaks or falls apart, it’s a quick fix. - Water Bucket. If your horse is finicky about water, invest in a water tank to put in your trailer or go buy the 5 gallon buckets with lids at Home Depot, Lowes or Walmart, and store at leas 20g of water. - Extra standing wraps and bandages - First aid kit for you and pon - Your horses papers. All of them. Registration if applicable, Coggins and Health Cert. Ag inspection sites are NO JOKE. - Cooler, Sheet, Blanket.
If you want to walk your horse on a long trip every few hours, I suggest trying to find a horse stable or a fairgrounds that will let you walk your horse without the risk of a semi truck running up on your horse right next to an interstate. Some rest areas are quiet enough for the well broke horse, just remember there will be constant dogs and vehicles. I don’t walk mine on long trips. My horse is sometimes very spooky, and if your horse gets away from you and causes a wreck, you will be held responsible for all damages (at least in america). So just keep those things in mind.
When we stop on the longer trips, we’ll stop from 30 minutes to an hour to give the horses a break. We let them hang their heads out of the trailer and look around. They seem to enjoy it, and it gives them time to rest. We’ll open the trailer up as much as we can to let the trailer air out. If you have to feed your horse on the road, feed them breakfast and go feed yourself. It’ll give your horse plenty of time to eat -and- you too. I’d suggest BS’ing a little longer than that so your horse can digest as much as possible before hitting the road again.
Also, if your horse sits on his tail, buy a tail guard wrap thing. They’re worth the money and work super well. On long trips I use a slightly padded halter. My horse probably doesn’t need it but it makes me feel better.
If you don’t know how to wrap standing wraps and you have no one to teach you, use shipping boots.
If you’re transporting in a stock trailer, or otherwise “open” style trailer, use a fly mask to keep debris out of their eyes - always, even if it’s a short trip.
My painting Blue Door involved a lot more retouching of the source image than most of my work. I saw this house (above) while driving to the Torrance Art Museum. What struck me were the geometric forms of the house and the landscaping. Returning to the spot weeks later, I realized that the image I had in my mind was not quite the same as what existed in reality. So I began the process of transforming the photo into what I wanted to paint.
Step one. I cropped the photo to fit the 14 x 18 proportion of my Home is Where the House Is series. I didn’t want to include the neighboring houses, so those were replaced by cypress trees, lopped off. The source for these was my painting, Undercover.
Step Two. Then I began cleaning up the house. One subtle change was straightening the porch light. And the office chair on the front porch had to go. I experimented with making the vent over the window square, but ultimately rejected that idea.
Continuing the rectilinear scheme, I got rid of the mailbox, and reduced the cactus to a single vertical spire. I also straightened the roofline on the right.
Step Three. Adding more rectilinear shubbery, one cut and pasted, the other based on shrubs from my Conway House painting. I also did some hedge trimming. The other houses in this series have sidewalks and curbs, so I added those.
Step Four. The blue door. I recolored the door blue for a color accent, and took the paint off the roof tiles over the porch. I also did a slight tweak to the stucco color.
Step Five. Paint the thing.
Even with all that work composing, I made a few more changes on the canvas. I added a little peep hole to the door, mowed the lawn, made the house numbers and the mail slot black, and added some trash in the gutter. I also handled the red fencess a little differently, and the sky as well.