Blūm Magazine: Volume One Issue Four

Contributors

Alan Matthews

Amy Hibbard

Ariana Gillrie

Bradford

Chris Kattner

Dreylon Vang

Dadadoh

Greg Ontiveros

Jaime Chan

Jamie Hopper

Jesus Rodriguez

Kelsey Fugere

Laurie-lou

Madeleine Schaffner

Matthew Soulnechnii

Shawn Heath Winchester

Travis Seale

William Blanton

Van Hobbes

Vara Ayannacover feature - Laurie-Lou

dress - Prada glove - aristide aristide shoes - Ysl bag - Chanel hat - roChas

don’t tell mamma Photographs by laurie-lou

Model - Camille Germain @ enjoy Models Parisstylist by Malvina VB

Mua - salma Qrhair - eric hua

Post Production by lena Grishkova

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hat (cover) -- Zara sunglasses (cover) - Chaneltop (cover) - topshopearring (left) - YSL jacket (current) - Chanel jean - Calvin Klein bracelet - YSL necklace - Manoush sunglasses - Chanel

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belt - VersaCe dress/jacket - GeorGe reCh body - PrinCess taM-taM earring - Ysl hat - Maison MiChel heel - Casadei

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hat - sisleYbelt/ring - Ysl bracelet - PoGGi dress - tatiana leBedeV long vest - toPshoP heel - Zara

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necklace - Christian laCroix dress - d&G earring - Ysl belt -VersaCe turban - BotteGa Veneta heel - JiMMY Choo

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gloves - aristide aristide jacket - BurBerrY dress - nina riCCi

synesthesiaPhotographs by amy hibbard

art direction by luke dyer and amy hibbardModels - sinead @ the agency Models & Conor Patton

Mua -Kat Margaritahair by luke dyer @ desmond & Molly Jones

styling by luke dyer & amy hibbard

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yellow dress - tahiti art Maohi 1956floral blouse - PalaCo australiamustard pants - VintaGeblack and white shoes - t.u.K

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rain coat - P.V.C

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mesh top - rawlinG J.l

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call me in the afternoon Photographs by BradfordModel - Bente schreursMua - hilda de Jongstyling by Karen Cigar

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white tee anthem Photographs by dreylon Vang

Model - lisa Marie

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the gulfway Photographs by william Blanton

Model - haley Permenterlocation - the Gulfway Motel

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bikini - ViCtoria’s seCret

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tee - riot soCietYshorts - rewash

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tee - riot soCietYshorts - rewash

tank - BillaBonG

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tee (left) - MtVdenim - Bullhead

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mirage Photographs by shawn heath winchester

Model - lisa Marie winterlocation - Glamis

Clothing - american apparel

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vintage tennis Photographs by alan Matthews

Model - hannah Jones

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yesteryear Photographs by travis seale

Model - Kali Faithstyling by danie Barton

Mua - Grace Meyer

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body suit - deVoweVo

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top - deVoweVo

shorts - stYlist’s own

Dadadoh Story by Vara Ayanna

Photographs by Madeleine SchaffnerAll the way from the “Dirt Roads of Va”, Tempe, AZ rapper & producer, Dada-

doh, is the talk of the town as he heads out on tour this summer with the co ol kids of “Fairy Bones”, a popular eclectic band here in the Arizona scene. As one of the most original rap artists in the scene, Dadadoh has been making a name for himself since he left Virginia , his mom, and his “The best brother in the world” - fact, not opinion - as well his old band behind. Unintentionally becoming local eye candy, this cutie Dadadoh racks in the cash as local Tempe and Phoenix girls fawn over his Disney & Playdoh themed artist merch.

With song’s like “Not Yet” and “Give You the World”, he has a – special way of putting his fears , past loves, & his life experiences into his music. “My mom

told me that I’m not in Arizona because I want to be, it’s because God wants me to be, and I believe that” was his answer when we asked him why he chose Arizona of all places to be. It’s not the usual first choice for a so on to be world known rapper , but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise when he started to gain local – and national success. Using the music video from Blink 182’s “All the small things” as inspiration for his first musical experience, he believes that it describes the meaning of life, and the idea that we never know what’s going to happen & we make our own reality – in his words “Art is co ol as fuck.” Seeing his apparent re-invention of himself as well as his ability to draw a crowd as one of his biggest accomplishments.

His Ep release show has taken the cake as one of his biggest undertaking’s – and he only strives for more moments like that in the near future. Being a

bit of a purist when it comes to music, he believes your art is for your fans, the people who love it, and even more so for the people who don’t like your art- “You have to make them love it the most.,” He says. Mostly excited for fo od, travel-ling, memories, money, and a much needed trip Denver for some time with Mary Jane, Dadadoh believes his tour will be an “Eye Opening “ experience with lots of time to reflect on his past and gear up for the future. When we asked what the

Arizona music scene needed the most? He spent his time with us wishing that more people would get into the music at shows in Arizona – “No more smoking on the patio.” - “Get closer to the stage” – “Move” he raves.

Arizona has been moving towards a more eclectic scene in recent years, more relaxed mingling and not so much getting addicted to the music, “More

moshing, and more supporting the artist, it really helps.” “I’ve made great connec-tions on the patio smoking cigarettes, but I’ll always be down for the sweating, moshing, and holding each other up.” “We never feel alone when were in a crowd.” Is solid advice from this unique young man. Pulling everyone from Omar Rodriguez Lopez, from the Mars Volta to the classic Pharrell Williams as his big-gest musical influence’s, Dadadoh never wants to be put in a box when it comes to his music.

We asked Dadadoh to shout out his favorite musical artists in Arizona and he poised the question after a go od laugh. “Who’s ready?” , “None of these

mother-fuckers.” “No one’s prepared, no mixtapes, no merch, nothing.” Shouting out artists like Robert Cuica and Kat Cronn, local Bones Haus artists, as well as Austin Rickert, one of his best friends and biggest influences. He never says I’m ripping his idea off, we both always wonder why we always have the same ideas. We’re big influences on each other.” “Also Andy Warpigs. Andy re-invents what it is to be a go od person.” He never says no to anything. Andy will do 4 or 5 shows a day.” he feels like the creatives in this community are all equally deserving of credit if they continue to work hard. “I feel like we’re all influenced by each other.” Adding producing act’s, opening a studio and a restaurant to produc-ing children’s tracks to his 5-10 year plan, Dadadoh forsees his fanbase moving overseas in the next years, Dadadoh is a big believer that anything is possible & nothing’s set in stone. He also want’s to remind you that “If you got your own money, can’t nobody tell you shit.”

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"If you got your own money, can't nobody tell you shit.”

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climb up Photographs by Matthew soulnechnii

Model - Marina sviridova

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jacket - asosshoes - ForeVer 21

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westcott Photographs by ariana Gillrie

Model - ruth Galvin @ red 11 Model Management

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beach bum Photographs by Jaime Chan

Model - alexis Cutler @ otto ModelsMua - Jinjutha Vasinsukon

hair by Marissa duranstyling by Jihane sy

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bikini - sheridYn swiMkimono - CYnsora aPParelbeaded bracelets - h&G BoutiQue

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swimsuit - a’Qua swiM

beaded bracelets - h&G BoutiQue

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necklace - H&G Boutique

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remnants Photographs by Chris Kattner

Model - santa igaunestyling by shawna Pickenhair by 黄文生 (Visen)

Mua - 林俊良

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jacket/shirt (left/current page) - annotation‡ ClothinGpants (left page) - sihouskirt - oaK nYCaccessories (all) - stYlist’s own

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dress - annotation‡ ClothinG

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pants/jacket (left/current page) - sihou

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numb Photographs by Pablo anton

Model - Jesus rodriguez @ new icon Model Management

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bleached blessing Photographs and styling by Gregory ontiveros

Models - Megan Giordano and sunday Johnson

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oana in the clouds Photographs by Jamie hopper

Model - oana @ Factor women atlantahair/Makeup by MaraZ

styling by hannah Johnson

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cami (left) - Free PeoPlecrop top/skirt (left) - shaKuhaChi

button down (current) - Free PeoPle

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top/culottes/crop top (right) - Free PeoPle

89dress (left/current) - KeePsaKe the laBelshoes - sixtY seVen

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shapes of summer Photographs by Kelsey Fugere

Model - Brianna Michelle @ wilhelmina, los angelesstyling by stylist: Ferriss Mason

Mua - Francie tomalonis

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shirt (left) - PYGMes Ceasarshirt (current) - Pelle d’arteshorts - ChinYerejewelry - Maasai

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jacket - Pelle d’artegreen lace bra - aMeriCan aPParelring - darrel roaCh

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body suit (left/current/bttm left/) eCho and airneon green kimono (current) - haddudYitree of life body chain (left/current) - PrisMatiKleather bow headband (left/current) - KennY Gearpants (left) - water Colorheels (left) - PaPerFox

WAR ON POORA three part short by van Hobbes

- Part two -

War on Poor - ii

It had been a horrendous week’s end to a great week, Nelson reflected. He slouched worriedly and full of exhaustion in a chair in the conference room, awaiting Ensel. This won’t be pretty. Him calling for an impromptu meeting never is. He wondered how bad it would be, and his head ached and throbbed in a complementary rhythm to the pounding heart fueled by his anxiety. He had cold sweats. And the shakes. Fuck I need to lay off the caffeine. He’d jump started each morning with unrecommended doses of Never Sleep, a very expensive fatigue fighter loaded with the caffeine of one pot of coffee and one week’s worth of magnesium intake wrapped in a sweet coat of zucalose, a scientifically modified form of sugar that is delivered faster and, though most suspect is linked to obesity and diabetes in the Homeland, comes highly recommended by the FDWA as a simple and smart alternative to natural sucrose. Just as he was reflecting on his situation the door opened and Nelson was surprised to see Eli Schumer walk in. “What’s going on, Nels?” “Schume?” “Yeah.” “Ensel wanted to see you, too?” “Yeah.” Guess that explains the conference room. Else he could have just called me into his office. “You know what this about?” “Umm…” “I mean, other than Linda.” Linda had been missing since Wednesday. Well, Tuesday night, most likely, as there was no evidence of her ever returning home that night, surveillance indicated. He kept going over in his mind what she must have been thinking. Always wanting to help. Most likely she headed for the Outskirts to find him and Schumer, figuring they hit up Schumer’s favourite pub to celebrate. They talked briefly on the phone, and when Schumer said Nelson wasn’t there, and indeed had no idea where he was, she must have gone into the Lower District to look for him. And there was where it ended for her. Ensel walked in and, to their shock, looked more concerned than angry. “Gentlemen,” he began. “As you may have heard we are suspecting Linda is missing in the Lowers. Assumed to be dead, as things go down there.” The two young investigators broke eye contact with him and both looked down, staring at the floor. “But I have not yet ordered an investiga-tion.” Their heads both shot up at this. “I’ve decided to let that work fall into your program.” “What?” The two said in unison. “This case has something about it that really bothers me. I think you’re right, Nelson, I really do. I think this is big. Too big to risk scaring off the suspected criminals in the Lowers, those working for Sarvecta. I am of the mind that if I send in warrant officers for the Agency looking for her, we’ll alert Sarvecta to our presence and they’ll react how most criminals do when men with guns start showing up. Besides, I wouldn’t know where to look first.” “I - ” Nelson began, then stopped. “Do you know where to start? To make it clean, stir up the least amount of trouble we can and let no one know we’re there?” “I don’t, sir, no, but -” “Then that’s settled. And another thing, I want Schumer in the Lowers with you. Two will cut the workload in half, and should produce results twice as quickly, as time may be working against us.” Nelson Silma gave a confused look to Schumer, but Schumer just shrugged. “Okay,” was all he said, in his typical low-key manner. “I found out today that our department was granted an extra Rat Hound. That’s going to be yours, Schumer. I want you at the edge of the Lowers where you can get out quickly. Silma, you’re still on point deep in the Lowers, as deep as you need to go.”Nelson was slack-jawed. Schumer not only going in, but gets a Rat Hound! This is absurd.He asked a question, rather quicker and louder than he’d liked to have admitted: “Who is going to run analytics?” “I’ve considered that. Schumer will be able to handle some from the Hound. Back here at the Agency, I’m assigning you Tiffany Lowenbrau. I’d like to introduce her now, though Schumer, I believe you’ve already met her.” “Yep,” he said. Ensel walked to the door of the conference room, opened it, and said to someone outside “come in.” In walked a tall, thin, business dressed brunette in black high heels. She wasn’t dressed inappropriately, but her skirt revealed a staggering amount of lengthy, slender, honey coloured legs. Her breasts were also heaving up out of the last buttonable button of of her probably too small (Nelson figured) black blouse. “Gentlemen, your new analytics expert. She comes highly recommended. Tiffany, this is Nelson Silma, he’ll be on site in the Lowers on this case. And, as you know, this is Schumer. He’ll be in the Rat Hound at the edge.” My God, Nelson thought to himself. She’s, she is...but then his professionalism kicked in, she can’t be here. And then his pride: She better not be just looks. “Hi Nelson,” she said, smiling and, was that a giggle? “I’ve heard so much about you! This will be great. I’m ready to get started whenever you are, but first I’d prefer you give me a few more details and I’m starving! Can we do that over coffee?”Shit. “So that’s where I think they are, and that’s where I plan to begin,” he said. “I’ll have Schumer filtering out everything I come across and you can tell me which direction to go from there, though I think these folks are so out of their element they’ll be quite easy to track.” “That sounds great. I can’t wait to help. I’m so sorry about what happened to Linda, and I know it can’t be easy for you. You need as little stress as possible, and I promise to avoid that. Anything I can do, I’m ready for this work. It’s what I was made for.” She smiled at this and, he was pretty sure, winked at him as well. “So,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with her amiability, “let’s uhh...get started?” “We can. But does that mean the Lowers for you?” “Of course.” “Already?”

“Why not?” “Okay! But when your day is done, we’ll do dinner and you’ll tell me all about it. Deal?” Christ! Bubbly and beautiful and giving friendly invites, too?” “Uhh, deal.”

He spent the first part of his day in the Lowers, visiting two local elementary schools, Washington Elementary and St. Albert’s. One of the low-est income, highest dropout rate schools with the highest percentage of single parent students, and one of the better performers with funding in the top five percent for this region of the Lower District. And only eight blocks from each other.His guess was that Madam Helspfond was promoting the vaccines they were concocting to low income parents concerned about their children picking up various illness in public schools. And his hunch was correct. When questioned, staff at these schools tried being evasive but one scared secretary eluded to the “promises of healthier children.” Who wouldn’t want that? When prodded further, she supplied a flier, one which pointed out that several of the most common, contagious, and debilitating local illnesses - influenza, tuberculosis, bronchitis, and the Lyme disease, were being treated for by a traveling band of doctors that had high hopes for the com-plete erradication of the region’s top killers of young children and the elderly. He pocketed this and made his way back to Schumer, all in a day’s work “Welcome,” Schumer said, “to the house on wheels.” Nelson walked up into the Hound from the side door. “Holy shit, buddy.” “I know right?” “You really got your ass spoiled.” “Pretty sweet, isn’t, it?” He walked around, inspecting the displays, some for surveillance video, some for transcript displays on voice-to-text, some for GPS tracking of targets they’ve bugged, and others for communication within the team. There were printers for hard copies, for any snapshots they wished to capture, slots in the desks for food and drink, and a cache of weapons and armour, which Silma guessed would outfit three people. There was also a door to a small vault, or chamber, that looked like a person could uncomfortably sit in. A quiet room? Interrogation, maybe, Silma guessed. But before he could ask Schumer shut to the door and begged him to check out the mini fridge, below the microwave. “I have beer, check it out.” “Nice, buddy.” “Want one?” “Sure.” They drank, and Nelson contained his jealousy well enough to compliment Schumer on the high tech set up he could move and park anywhere necessary. “This thing is armour plated, too. So if you get in a jam, don’t hesitate to call.” Had it not been for Tiffany later that night, Nelson Silma might well have sat stewing in a jealous pit on his couch, surfing the headlines from the news sources dedicated to local activity in the Lowers. But instead he folded up in a sweaty ball of exhaustion.

When he awoke, he turned to his side and kissed her. She was naked, and her tall slender frame showed no imperfections, save maybe a rib or two he’d prefer covered with a bit more than tightly stretched skin. Skin that glowed. Her smell was flowery and intoxicating. I need to get us up and out of here and into the office. He was impatient to get back to work, but coaxed her into her clothes and after a snuggly breakfast, they agreed to meet at work. “You know what.” “Yeah, well, none of your business,” Silma said, looking for anger but smiling the entire time.” “Uh huh. Sure bud.” Nelson took his laptop out of his bag, began arranging things to set up for work, and Schumer interrupted: “Well?” “Well what?” “Oh, come on. How was it?” Nelson began laughing. “How do you think?” “Great. That’s great man, I’m happy for you.” “Stop it. We’ve got a job to do. She’ll be in here soon. Let’s get going, shall we?” She was sweet, a blend of innocence and eagerness. But that too had minor variations. It seemed to him as the week went on she began to lose a bit of fire. Maybe the novelty wore off that quickly for her? No, it wasn’t just that, not just the sex. She became colder, somehow. Her bubbliness was wearing off. Her sentences were getting shorter, and her emotions more dull. She began to become distant, and by the middle of her second week, staying every night at his place, he began to feel detached from her, and that this was beginning to be an empty excursion, like all the ones before. The weekend following, which he and Tiffany spent working through each day and fucking each night, was when he began to realise the change was for the worst. It was their Sunday evening rendezvous. She got up and began dressing very quickly after, without smiling or touching him, as she did with less and less enthusiasm but still did half-heartedly. “Going back to work?” “Yes.” “What is there to do?” “Schumer ran surveillance on some of the hotspots you pointed out to him yesterday. I told him I’d have him results by Monday morning.” “Schumer’s been working too?” “Of course, Nels.” Rather than comment on her coldness, he got dresses as well. “I’m going out,” he said. “To the Lowers? Tonight?” Her tone lacked a concern for his safety that he’d expected, and instead carried a tone of what do you expect to ac-complish on a Sunday night? “No. Just going out. Be back in a bit. See you.” “See you.”

She was sweet, a blend of innocence and eagerness. But that too had minor variations. It seemed to him as the week went on she began to lose a bit of fire. Maybe the novelty wore off that quickly for her? No, it wasn’t just that, not just the sex. She became colder, somehow. Her bubbliness was wearing off. Her sentences were getting shorter, and her emotions more dull. She began to become distant, and by the middle of her second week, staying every night at his place, he began to feel detached from her, and that this was beginning to be an empty excursion, like all the ones before. The weekend following, which he and Tiffany spent working through each day and fucking each night, was when he began to realise the change was for the worst. It was their Sunday evening rendezvous. She got up and began dressing very quickly after, without smiling or touching him, as she did with less and less enthusiasm but still did half-heartedly. “Going back to work?” “Yes.” “What is there to do?” “Schumer ran surveillance on some of the hotspots you pointed out to him yesterday. I told him I’d have him results by Monday morning.” “Schumer’s been working too?” “Of course, Nels.” Rather than comment on her coldness, he got dresses as well. “I’m going out,” he said. “To the Lowers? Tonight?” Her tone lacked a concern for his safety that he’d expected, and instead carried a tone of what do you expect to ac-complish on a Sunday night? “No. Just going out. Be back in a bit. See you.” “See you.”

He arrived at Schumer’s place a half hour later. He began telling Schumer about all the work he’d put in, and was a bit peeved that he hadn’t been kept in the loop when his associate was out working on the weekend. “Take it easy, buddy. You’re not the only pulling long hours on this job. Just trying to help get things done here.” “Sorry man. Think I’m just stressed out is all.” “How’s Tiffany?” “I don’t know. Quiet. Busy. Somehow, a little removed, you know?” “Yeah. Hey you want a beer? I drank all the ones in here. Have more in the Hound.” “Sure.” The two headed for the truck and Nelson was explaining that he didn’t feel Tiffany was the same warm, girly bombshell she had been when she first arrived. “She still fuck like one?” “Oh, she’s great, but, thank you,” he took the beer from the mini fridge and went and sat in the driver seat. “I mean, maybe I shouldn’t be com-plaining, this is a stressful job. And she’s a hard worker. Almost too hard of a worker. I woke up the other night and she was at her laptop, running analyt-ics on more leads. I guess maybe it’s - “ He stopped. He heard voices. A loud, clumsy, high pitched voice with a thick accent. And Schumer whispering. “Is he here? Oh it’s nice to see you Schume, but I want to see him too!” and “No, no no, shh-shh-shh. No, shh,” and “But isn’t Salma” Christ! Linda! “No shh! Get back in dear,” Nelson bolted upright. That voice. That accent. That mispronounciation of his name. Linda! He walked through the narrow corridor that separated the cab from the control center and saw - “The fuck!” “Nalson!” “Shit! Nels, you remember Linda? Linda, get back in, dearest.” “I remember Nalson, of course I do. Hi Nelson.” But it wasn’t Linda. It was barely human. “Nelson, what the fuck man? Say hi to Linda and wish her good night. Linda, you really need to get back in.” “After a hug!” Nelson was frozen in place. Between him and Schumer stood a crude representation of his former co-worker. She was short, about two-thirds Linda’s height. And much fatter. No, not fat, flabby? Her skin was somehow drooping and wadded in large, irregular chunks of dark clammy skin. Her posture was all wrong. Her legs were thick and her upper body less so, but all had baggy skin with dents and bumps all over it that sat lazily on curved bones. None of her limbs looked human, and her back was severely arched. Then there was her face. It was a regular sized skull, but very misshapen, as though a murderer didn’t know when to stop bashing it in with a hammer. Her cheeks were swollen and her eyes were dry, crusted around the edges, red where there should have been white and the centers a dark grey rather than brown. Her smile was wavy with fattened, cracked lips, and her teeth seemed too large to fit in her mouth, which was unable to be closed. All this was topped off by a bald head with a few stringy, black hairs. She stumbled up to him and gave him a hug, then was walked back to the small chamber at the back of the van by a chivalrous Schumer, like he was walking his great grandmother to her bed. He helped her sit inside the vault, then shut the door and hit some controls. “Sorry, man,” he said as he sealed her in. Then he turned and saw how white Nelson was. “Dude, what the hell?” “The hell is going on here, Schume?” “Dude? It’s Linda. Relax.” “That wasn’t Linda.” “No, that’s not exactly her. It’s a Halverdeen chamber. Have you really never seen one?” “One what?” “A Halverdeen chamber. Christ man, it’s how we reclaim our personnel. It’s how we retain people, skill, and knowledge.” “No, I’ve never seen a fucking Halverdeen chamber. I’ve only heard of them, but, goddamnit I didn’t think the Agency actually used them!” “Of course they do. We use Halverdeen clones all the time. In fact, you’re fucking one.”

"You can't dependon your eyeswhen your imagination

is out of focus"

- Mark Twain

Blūm Magazine: Volume One Issue Four

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Transcript of Blūm Magazine: Volume One Issue Four