“Heart Throb” by David M. Bowers
This Saturday’s inspiration comes from successful illustrator, book cover designer and painter, David M. Bowers, who has graced us with “Heart Throb” - an astoundingly delicate and surreal oil painting. The colour palette and the brush strokes are something to truly marvel. Perhaps the most common thing you might have thought is ‘why has she opened herself so much?’. My first thought was ‘well, open-heart surgery won’t pose much difficulty with this one’.
I often don’t talk about the cultural scene in Bulgaria, personally because I don’t think there’s an integrated and unified scene to speak of and because Varna (my town) seems barren in terms of a cultural life. Or at least I did, because I attended an incredibly necessary event, which proves me happily wrong. Turns out Varna brims with talented folk, who have continued success abroad but lack the environment to gather and strike up a conversation.
The Behance Portfolio Review brings in designers, developers and illustrators of all career stages and provides the platform to showcase their work to locals, strike up conversations and exchange contacts. Saturday, November 9th, saw the second event, which I found to be a finely organized, pleasurable experience with emphasis on a relaxed, feel-good vibe in direct opposition to what I normally expect from a networking event.
I have a book buying habit, which I can’t sustain. Perhaps if I marry a guy in the publishing industry, there’d be a high chance I’d get all the books that I want, but that’s not happening. The deal I have made with myself is that I have to get through at least six books of my own before I even consider buying a new tome. No matter what.
So what I’m left with is to salivate over books I desperately want. Hence why I’ll return to a book blogger favourite: Waiting & Wishing on Wednesday, where I talk about the books I want and hope I find a handsome gentleman who will donate (though ladies are also encouraged to donate). Kidding aside, this is a collection by Molly Tanzer that’s been popping up my feed and I find it to be quite intriguing:
MOLLY TANZER, author of the Wonderland Book and British Fantasy Society Best Newcomer Nominated A Pretty Mouth presents a new collection of weird and fantastical tales:
R U M B U L L I O N, A N D O T H E R L I M I N A L L I B A T I O N S
incorporating a new novella—a disquieting tale of 18th Century decadence, charlatanism, supernatural ritual, and violent, bloody murder, told in the epistolary style—along with a number of previously uncollected and critically acclaimed short stories.
Each piece is furthermore presented with a corresponding imbibation from Molly’s distinctive repertoire, to be concocted by the reader with the hope that his or her enjoyment of the story will be in some small way enhanced—and that Bacchus guide them on.
The full contents are as follows:Introduction: A Consuming Desire
Rumbullion: An Apostrophe
Presented with Planter’s Punch“In Sheep’s Clothing”
Presented with Sheep Dip“How John Wilmot Contracted Syphilis”
Presented with The Arms of Venus“The Poison-Well”
Presented with Choke Royal“Herbert West in Love”
Presented with Revivification“Tubby McMungus, Fat from Fungus”
Presented with The Shabby Tabby“Go, Go, Go, said the Byakhee”
Presented with Mother’s MilkThe book will be a 256 page lithographically printed, sewn hardback with colour endpapers, limited to 250 copies.
Given the limited edition nature of this book, chances are I will most likely not get a chance to read this collection in this form. Perhaps in the future the publisher will release an ebook. SIGH! Nevertheless, this is a most beautiful book.
After yesterday’s post on my successful sugar-free challenge (or quest), I’ve been thinking about what it means to be healthy and the divide between brains and brawn, a divide which society has chosen to embrace and reinforce through popular culture. Bear in mind, I’m mostly observing as a novice to concept of lifestyle change since routines and the known offer me solace, so this post will mostly present thoughts I’ve been distilling in my head for some time.
Bulgarians as I see my countrymen are not too keen on living healthy lives. It’s mostly economic as money doesn’t allow for an entirely nutritious diet, especially if you’re providing for children. Nevertheless, I have realized language has a lot to do with this. In Bulgarian, ‘healthy’ (здрав, zdrav) as linguists have decided translates only in its most basic meaning, namely ‘to be in good health’, the normal condition of the body prior to any illness. It’s a popular word, used in expressions, sayings and the go-to place for birthday wishes.
The secondary meaning, pertaining to ‘being in good physical and mental condition’, has its own word in the dictionary – здравословен, izdravosloven. First, the existence of these two words causes a separation of what I believe to a cause and effect. If you live a healthy life, then you would achieve the healthy state, we so often wish upon each other. Though honestly, I think when we wish health upon people, we expect health to come on its own as if handed down from a magical reserve of healing that gives you +10 protection against illness.
Food. Food. Food. It’s all about food. I couldn’t start this post in any other way. Food speaks for itself. It’s an entity. It’s been a dear friend since early childhood. Food’s never abandoned me and has always been there when I needed it. That’s the sort of dependency you’d expect from a guy with extra muffin in his muffin top without an active lifestyle. Said muffin top followed the universe in its infinite quest for expansion and despite my best efforts, I could never really deter the muffin top from following its dream. In translation, I’m not good at saying no to food, sweets in particular.
I’ve been fighting eating impulses ever since I entered high school. Call it body dysmorphia. Call it a strive towards a better lifestyle. Call it the simple desire to find jeans that actually fit without critically rearranging body mass and internal organs. I had ups, small victories here and there but I mostly caved in and continued eating sweets as if I were an anime character in a slice of life. I did this until something clicked in my head in September. That’s when I got fired up. Illustrated below, proper firing up, courtesy of Fairy Tail’s Natsu:
What I adore about fans is how effortlessly they can recombine fandoms and create a super fandom, stronger than both. Artist JB Casacop had taken one of fictions and TVs most striking characters and lending himself some of the iconic Star Wars imagery presents an admirable and skilful rendition of Khal-Drogo as a Sith Lord. It’s mindfucking. That’s what it is. Now I’m sure everyone wants a Star Wars/Game of Thrones crossover.
As I base my writing for this blog on emotional authenticity for the first time in a long time (as I have done in this previous post), I hope to discuss what happened to me in 2013 as a mechanism to get out of my own damaged, self-victimizing headspace and transition into a healthier place so I can finally create rather than agonize. The mind does not lend itself to easy understanding and I often question my actions, including why I chose to start my Women in Genre month in April.
In all honesty, I realized how tight my schedule would be between March and May. A new three-month project at work awaited along with a packed program at university resulting in finals and a student competition I had hand in organizing. Instinctually, I knew I needed a distraction, rooted in the SFF community. Something positive. What I thought I needed was to build something and took to a very personal place to tell stories about the women in the community who have shaped me as a reader and writer.
I haven’t been writing. Not at all. Not one word for myself. I have given all my words elsewhere. I have painfully typed up the same words, the same call to actions, the same sentence structures for my office job. Used the same inbred sales vocabulary. Stunted my texts at the same length. I performed plastic surgery on the same thought. Over and over and over.
Hey, I wanted this.
This is what I repeated to myself for more than a year when exhaustion first settled in my mind and spread until sleep didn’t cut it. I said a lot of things to myself, including:
Secret promises were made when I thought I had had enough.
Instead, I buried my words in my head and an episode of this and that. Little by little, winter and all the plans I laid into lists and spreadsheets had melted and faded away. Out of sight is truly out of mind. Deadlines, university projects, graduation stacked each other on top a full time job and a new job description with more work and responsibility. Something I desired and fought for.
