gradual enlightenment

with gusto

vitawoolf:

I met my girlfriend through Orphan Black.

Every comment I receive on my fanfiction is special to me, but one in particular will always hold more weight than the others.

In mid-October, after I posted Chapter 4 of my Foreign Bodies fic on Tumblr, I received the following comment: “This is incredible. I really adore your writing style. Thank you.”

Good grammar, flattery, and thanks—how could a writer resist?

I let it sit overnight, smiling every now and then as it popped in and out of my mind. The next morning, clear-headed, I responded. Thank goodness I responded.

What followed were months of talking back and forth. First Tumblr messages, then emails, then texts, and finally our first phone call, which lasted five hours. There was one Skype session but it was completely nerve-wracking, possibly quite awkward, and rarely discussed.

My job allowed me to work remotely from New York, and her job in Nashville had her taking night shifts. So our days were spent bouncing between modes of communication, making light of the day-to-day mundaneness, and telling old stories for new ears. There was so much to learn, so much to like.

By December, she’d booked a trip to visit me in January. The romance of being far away was starting to wear off. We just wanted to see each other. Now all we had to do was wait—the torture!

We filled the time by creating art for each other. As a musician, she wrote songs for me. As a writer, I wrote fanfiction for her, some AU fantasies in which we actually lived closer. After all, it’s the writing that brought us together in the first place.

One thousand years (one month) later, she finally arrived in New York. Two seconds (five days) later, she was headed back to Nashville. What now?

We were both at transitional points in our lives, starting new jobs and not knowing where to put ourselves. Back in our separate cities, communication became painful; distance felt impossible. And we soon realized that in order to give “us” a chance, we needed to be in the same place.

By the end of January, she picked up and moved to New York. We quickly cobbled together our own little life in my tiny Lower East Side studio, supporting each other through new career paths and artistic pursuits, all the while counting down the days to season 2.

And just to tie this craziness in a bow, the other week (after we got back from seeing the five-tiered Orphan Black billboard in Times Square), I went on Tumblr (naturally), and saw that there is going to be a special, fan screening of the season 2 premiere at the Sunshine Cinema in downtown New York—the Sunshine Cinema that happens to be five blocks from the apartment we now share.

Fact: Hiatuses suck. But never underestimate what can happen between seasons.

vitawoolf:

I met my girlfriend through Orphan Black.

Every comment I receive on my fanfiction is special to me, but one in particular will always hold more weight than the others.

In mid-October, after I posted Chapter 4 of my Foreign Bodies fic on Tumblr, I received the following comment: “This is incredible. I really adore your writing style. Thank you.”

Good grammar, flattery, and thanks—how could a writer resist?

I let it sit overnight, smiling every now and then as it popped in and out of my mind. The next morning, clear-headed, I responded. Thank goodness I responded.

What followed were months of talking back and forth. First Tumblr messages, then emails, then texts, and finally our first phone call, which lasted five hours. There was one Skype session but it was completely nerve-wracking, possibly quite awkward, and rarely discussed.

My job allowed me to work remotely from New York, and her job in Nashville had her taking night shifts. So our days were spent bouncing between modes of communication, making light of the day-to-day mundaneness, and telling old stories for new ears. There was so much to learn, so much to like.

By December, she’d booked a trip to visit me in January. The romance of being far away was starting to wear off. We just wanted to see each other. Now all we had to do was wait—the torture!

We filled the time by creating art for each other. As a musician, she wrote songs for me. As a writer, I wrote fanfiction for her, some AU fantasies in which we actually lived closer. After all, it’s the writing that brought us together in the first place.

One thousand years (one month) later, she finally arrived in New York. Two seconds (five days) later, she was headed back to Nashville. What now?

We were both at transitional points in our lives, starting new jobs and not knowing where to put ourselves. Back in our separate cities, communication became painful; distance felt impossible. And we soon realized that in order to give “us” a chance, we needed to be in the same place.

By the end of January, she picked up and moved to New York. We quickly cobbled together our own little life in my tiny Lower East Side studio, supporting each other through new career paths and artistic pursuits, all the while counting down the days to season 2.

And just to tie this craziness in a bow, the other week (after we got back from seeing the five-tiered Orphan Black billboard in Times Square), I went on Tumblr (naturally), and saw that there is going to be a special, fan screening of the season 2 premiere at the Sunshine Cinema in downtown New York—the Sunshine Cinema that happens to be five blocks from the apartment we now share.

Fact: Hiatuses suck. But never underestimate what can happen between seasons.

vitawoolf:

Evelyne + muffins

vitawoolf:

Evelyne + muffins

(Source: taaaaaatmas, via sarahmanning78)

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Seth Clark.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania-based artist Seth Clark focuses on deteriorating architecture. His art is a combination of collage, charcoal, pastel, acrylic, and graphite on wood. “I see an inherent honesty in the face of my subject,” says Clark. “These man-made structures, designed to be huge forces of permanence, are now collapsing in on themselves. Among all of the clutter—the shards of wood and layers of rubble—there remains a gentle resolve … They are on the brink of ruin, yet appear dignified in their state. Something very energized and present is trying to escape out of a slow history of abandonment.

Website

(via goodideaexchange)

syntaxandsemantics:

a violet bruise on the backside 
of yesterday, fading into forgotten

and i am watching recordings of everything i don’t have,
wonder how
not to settle, a universe of unpaid dues
an open tab,
five open tabs
of simultaneous possibility, none mine
and the hit and wait for it
to hurt, and stop
when we tire of drinking in this mediocrity
with all these things we could have been,
not just

an accident,
a fall short of something bigger, 
a grounded body

nprmusic:

Courtney Barnett can tell you a story like she’s your best friend, provided your best friend is a funny Australian poet.
Watch her play NPR’s Tiny Desk, including a new song, “Depreston.”

#New music I like

nprmusic:

Courtney Barnett can tell you a story like she’s your best friend, provided your best friend is a funny Australian poet.

Watch her play NPR’s Tiny Desk, including a new song, “Depreston.”

#New music I like

poetsorg:

Today’s new poem is "The World Seems…" by Gregory Orr.

poetsorg:

Today’s new poem is "The World Seems…" by Gregory Orr.

NATIONAL POETRY MONTH DAY 13: “TODAY”

therumpus:

Each year I know less about myself
but the insurance company knows
how much my life is worth.
This is for those who suffer & endure
& laugh about it later.
Someone asked, “where do you get
your news from if you don’t have a teevee?”
It is 7:36 a.m. & I have been awake
all night. I am pushing forward,
caffeinated & reminding myself:
don’t be busy. Busyness is the enemy
of art and life. Spring is here, it is
Saturday. The clouds make shapes & go.

-Gina Myers

(Source: therumpus.net)

sleepyexami:

growhousegrow

sleepyexami:

growhousegrow

explore-blog:

Rudy’s Library in Monowi, Nebraska – one of the many soul-warming photographs in Robert Dawson’s visual love letter to public libraries:

The entire population of this town consists of one woman, Elsie Eller. It is the only incorporated municipality in the United States with such a demographic. She acts as mayor and runs the only business in town, a local roadhouse. Over the years she watched all the other town residents move or pass away. When her husband, Rudy Eller, died in 2004, she became the town’s last resident. Because Rudy had collected so many books, she decided to open Rudy’s lLIbrary in a small shed next to her home. This memorial to Rudy is free and open to all. Patrons can check out books by signing a notebook. A wooden sign in the corner simply states “Rudy’s Dream.”

More such treats here.

explore-blog:

Rudy’s Library in Monowi, Nebraska – one of the many soul-warming photographs in Robert Dawson’s visual love letter to public libraries:

The entire population of this town consists of one woman, Elsie Eller. It is the only incorporated municipality in the United States with such a demographic. She acts as mayor and runs the only business in town, a local roadhouse. Over the years she watched all the other town residents move or pass away. When her husband, Rudy Eller, died in 2004, she became the town’s last resident. Because Rudy had collected so many books, she decided to open Rudy’s lLIbrary in a small shed next to her home. This memorial to Rudy is free and open to all. Patrons can check out books by signing a notebook. A wooden sign in the corner simply states “Rudy’s Dream.”

More such treats here.