❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
d e v o n
wallacepolsom
macklin celebrini has autism
todays bird
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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sheepfilms
occasionally subtle
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
★
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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we're not kids anymore.
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JVL
@theartofmadeline
NASA
seen from Italy
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seen from United States
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@m1sund3rst0od
Everyone go look up the song nasa banned from space
Don't forget to play it loud as fuck
please….listen to the whole thing. And imagine that you are IN SPACE in 1973 and you JUST woke up. Every time you adjust…it escalates somehow.
This song had to be designed in a lab for the sole purpose of fucking with astronauts. whoever added it to the NASA playlist was a genius.
It took them two tries to ban it?
This bus company in my area has taken to giving its vehicles names. This one could have used a bit more constructive criticism.
I had the privilege of riding bussy once
an honerable mention: my chariot oh my chariot, bussy galore
Tips for writing those gala scenes, from someone who goes to them occasionally:
Generally you unbutton and re-button a suit coat when you sit down and stand up.
You’re supposed to hold wine or champagne glasses by the stem to avoid warming up the liquid inside. A character out of their depth might hold the glass around the sides instead.
When rich/important people forget your name and they’re drunk, they usually just tell you that they don’t remember or completely skip over any opportunity to use your name so they don’t look silly.
A good way to indicate you don’t want to shake someone’s hand at an event is to hold a drink in your right hand (and if you’re a woman, a purse in the other so you definitely can’t shift the glass to another hand and then shake)
Americans who still kiss cheeks as a welcome generally don’t press lips to cheeks, it’s more of a touch of cheek to cheek or even a hover (these days, mostly to avoid smudging a woman’s makeup)
The distinctions between dress codes (black tie, cocktail, etc) are very intricate but obvious to those who know how to look. If you wear a short skirt to a black tie event for example, people would clock that instantly even if the dress itself was very formal. Same thing goes for certain articles of men’s clothing.
Open bars / cash bars at events usually carry limited options. They’re meant to serve lots of people very quickly, so nobody is getting a cosmo or a Manhattan etc.
Members of the press generally aren’t allowed to freely circulate at nicer galas/events without a very good reason. When they do, they need to identify themselves before talking with someone.
As someone who spent over a decade catering luxury events, let me add some back of house info:
These events are almost always open bar. They're not trying to make their money back on alcohol. They want you to drink and eat and donate generously.
If there are cocktails, there will be at most two on offer, pre-made in large tubs. You cannot order a different version, it is what it is.
There are two types of events: cocktail style or seated. The first includes roaming hors d'oeuvres or a fancy buffet with tiny plates called a grazing station. For a long night, the roaming food will get a little bigger throughout the evening and have a 'main' at some point based around a protein.
A seated event will usually be more structured and may include multiple courses. Silver service is not in vogue anymore. You are likely to get either alternating meals brought to you like at a wedding, or served banquet style. A good caterer can get a plate to everyone in a 300 person event in about three minutes.
Drunk people are the same no matter how expensive their suits. They still laugh too loud, spill their drinks and slip on the dance floor. They are usually less embarrassed about doing coke in the bathrooms.
A full scale event that starts at 6pm will have staff arriving at noon to begin setup. Earlier if there's a light show or pyrotechnics. Typically venues don't just have 30 tables and three hundred chairs lying around, let alone table cloths, chair covers, etc. It's all rented and brought in on the day. Bands and DJs will be running audio tests in the background throughout.
Most heritage buildings that host these things, like museums and manor houses, aren't really designed for them. They might put down mats so you're not walking in stilettos over two hundred year old wooden floors, the kitchens are weirdly far away, and there are not enough taps. There is never anywhere for staff to sit, so if you open the wrong door you might find half a dozen waiters sitting on upturned milk crates in a room full of million dollar paintings, eating the left over bread.
Really old buildings don't have enough bathrooms, which means the staff will be sharing with the guests.
Clean up starts the second the event ends, if not sooner. Unattended glasses will start to disappear first, then table decorations. When the timer ticks over, the lights come back on and exhausted staff strip the tables, pack up dirty glasses and unopened wine bottles and have to Tetris it all into the back of a van. The venue is booked for that day only, so everything has to be gone before anyone can go home. A large event that finishes at midnight might take until 3am to be cleared away.
These are very long and physically demanding nights for anyone working them. The staff all get to know each other, and will absolutely notice someone trying to sneak in wearing a borrowed uniform. They are not being paid enough to care.
the four horsemen of the apocalypse
pestilence
war
famine
death
Wizard frog blessings upon you!
Ok, but why'd he call me a 'poof', though?
The ancient texts were true… They DO have a reaction image for everything…
Great news
Omg it's so sweet... These sheep were brought here on purpose to manage the grass and weeds and keep the graveyard neat, the whole community loves them, children play with them. A woman was apparently startled by them and fell over and complained on Facebook, and the church was like okay well. We should sell the sheep. And the community all went YOU ARE NOT SELLING THE SHEEP
The beloved and extremely friendly black sheep that keep the graveyard neat and clean for all those that visit. I love these sheep
The Screaming Man // 2022
… The pose of this particular sculpture was decided based on the prompt of impact; I wanted the posture and expression to perhaps startle the viewer, to convey the sense of someone screaming for help and reaching out a hand in desperation. I wanted to make it visceral, for audiences to feel uneasy when they see it and get a rush of emotion that will remain with them even after they walk away. Ideally, this sculpture would be shown in an area that is wooded, where one may not see it at first. It is that jolt of recognition of the human form that would catch the attention of any accidental audience members, that realization that somebody has been silently screaming for help right in the corner of your eye and you hadn’t even noticed. That it could have easily gone unnoticed and unheard, but now your attention is impossible to deny, that it is too late to plead ignorance without remembering what you saw, what cry for help you had no choice but to walk away from. There is a meaning in that shame. It means something to me, and I know it means something to you as well. Something about guilt and helplessness and learned apathy, but I wish to let audiences decide what specific meaning it has to them. The type of impact is unique on the person, after all - at the end of the day, the screaming man is simply a man made out of sticks. Nothing more, nothing less. Not unless more is given, if one chooses to take the hand reaching out.
You are a drop-pod mechanic. To pass the time, you write a short, encouraging message on the inside of every pod you repair. Today, a heavily scarred veteran comes looking for the person whose message kept him sane.
you know what? fuck it, man. the world is held in the fists of people who like to break things. at this point i’m saying who gives a shit. wear that victorian dress you don’t have an excuse for. dress up like a witch, pointed hat and all. who cares anymore. why worry about it when there’s bigger stuff to worry on. i’m saying. yeah, this lipstick is too dark, wanna share? i’m saying go talk to her, tell her that you like her hair. i’m saying she’s out of my league but i’m still swinging, i’m saying yeah i’m in a ballgown and it’s a pta meeting. what about it. eat the extra brownie, tell her your feelings. i’m saying if nothing matters than we might as well give nothing meaning.
#i’m saying if existence is a void at least i’m going down screaming.
it’s been 9 years since i wrote this. i was experiencing 24/7 anxiety so badly that i needed serious medication. these days in the back of my car is an “emergency party box.” when people admit they no longer really celebrate their birthday; i tell them to put the sash on and queue up kesha, we’re going bowling or something. these days i can’t spin around without finding something i am enamored with. these days i list 3 things i’m grateful for before i fall asleep. you’re probably one of them, just by virtue of you existing.
at the time i wrote this, i was suffering through a severe panic attack literally every night. i tortured my brother with constant 2 AM calls just to hear someone else breathing, because i couldn’t be alone in the silence.
i rarely wish i was still 23 even though ironically i had more hope back then. what i can tell you is this: i love the same way, but bigger now. i’ve worn the velvet cape to several business meetings. i spent thursday in a crop top without caring what my stomach looked like.
i told her i like her; i often dress as a witch. i still got glass in my foot this morning. i’ve kissed maybe a thousand people since then and met a million more than that; passing like the shadow of a hammerhead in trains and planes and buses.
i saw you, beloved, there, maybe, on platform in south station. you didn’t speak, but you said: i struggle to give the nothing meaning. the nothing fills up everything. it is just loud and yellowed panicked silence. i can’t stop shaking.
on the roof, birds curl together against the chilled spring wind. the sky outside of the craft store was an iridescent pink. the nothing already had meaning; you are giving it meaning by witnessing.
the act of living, beloved: it’s just decoding how to translate it.
