Chapter 4 - Newfound Fame
Mountweazel had been famous as a fountain designer, but in her years of absence she had been forgotten almost entirely. But she experienced a rising fame as a photographer, and her fame in photography soon exceeded that of her fame in fountain design. But how?
Mountweazel produced a wide variety of photo-essays in 1963 for Amani Photography (whom she never learned the correct name of) and experienced rather limited success, selling only a few copies in the suburbs of New York, national fame yet to be reached. The photo-essays themselves were of unusual subject matter -- one particularly unsuccessful photo-essay of hers captured the supposed “glory” of orange peels.
This particular photo collection was lambasted by critics. One, named Demarcus Alexandrovna, wrote:
“This photo-essay is of completely poor taste! The quality of the photographs is completely atrocious! And how distasteful it was to prance around shooting pictures of orange peels in the most nonconformist locations of New York! Simply lamentable; Amani Photography needs to hire real photographers, not the amateur, New Age fools seemingly gathered from the wastelands!”
Mountweazel was heartbroken from this criticism, but she also had an air of perseverance that is unclear in its origins. This newfound confidence has been remarked as “jarring” by onlookers and Mountweazel describes it herself in a 1973 diary entry:
When I first saw the criticisms of Demarcus Alexandrovna, I didn’t know what I was thinking. But I did know what I felt -- I felt the ever-familiar feeling of complete heartbreak and despair, that was completely unwarranted. But then, I had an epiphany. These critics and judges are condemning me for no reason -- all successful artists were subject to lambasting at some point. And I realized that I could sit and suffer in criticism or I could rise from the ashes like a phoenix into stardom and fame and renown and prove them all ever so wrong.
And in fact, Mountweazel did prove her critics wrong, as she found sudden success in the next year, 1964.
~Mountweazel had been working vigorously for Amani Photography for over a year and had shown no signs of wear. She had been growing more popular in New York, but was about to receive a sudden boost in fame.
Mountweazel had been promoted to the higher class of Amani and was recruited by its boss to take a photograph of the South Sierra Miwok. What the South Sierra Miwok actually was was lost to the world until very recently; it was revealed to be some sort of tribal wood sculpture. Sadly, the photographs of it are missing, despite all the fame it once had.
After submitting her photos to Amani, Mountweazel did not think much of it. But very soon, her portrait made national and even international news, her works being described as “beacons of hope” by some news stations. The mayor of New York was so impressed that he petitioned Congress to send a copy of the portrait to space, and the petition was passed miraculously.
The headlines celebrating Mountweazel were full of praise and skyrocketed Mountweazel to a position of national stardom, and she was recognized wherever she went, being named as one of Time’s people of the year. ZYX News dubbed Mountweazel the “world’s most successful breakout star of the year of 1964.”
Mountweazel was far more recognized as a photographer than she’d been as a fountain designer. Reporters were adamant on capturing every detail of Mountweazel's life, and she found it hard to find privacy. The paparazzi scouted incessantly to find Demarcus Alexandrovna, who said sheepishly in an interview that his comments about Mountweazel had been a “mistake.”
Mountweazel wrote about all of this stardom in her diary as well:
The skyrocket to fame, the sudden stardom -- all because of my esteemed photographs of the South Sierra Miwok. It’s still so surreal. I am ever thankful to all of my supporters, and to all figures of my past and I hope that if I were to perish they would know of my everlasting gratitude towards them. And though my thankfulness can never be truly expressed, this fame has been troublesome.
Despite all of my loving fans, whom I love in greater return, there are still those who hate my works. And despite the millions of supporting fans, the scathing insults of a few dozen hurt me to my core -- awhile back, I had found a new confidence inside myself, ignoring the remarks of Alexandrovna, but it is increasingly difficult to overcome the painful burden the multitudes of haters engraved upon my mental tombstone.
And alongside the haters comes the paparazzi, and even the fans and reporters -- all can be difficult to deal with. The constant need for updates on my livelihood, the ever-increasing desire for new collections of photos, the omnipresent tracking of the paparazzi makes it hard to find any privacy at all. In fact, whilst I write this, I can feel the shadows of the paparazzi outside my walls and I can sense the eavesdropping binoculars of my crazed fans.
Despite this solemn and sombre attitude displayed in these entries, Mountweazel is said to have shown a sassy, quippy attitude rather unmentioned in her diary. She was very lively and one particular article sent her into laughter, that being titled “Lo and behold: New York’s hottest up-and-coming photographer -- Lillian Virginia Mountweazel!”
What further separated Mountweazel from the hoi polloi was her constant vigor -- even after her South Sierra Miwok success, which had granted financial security for potential centuries, Mountweazel continued her hard work. In December 1964, Mountweazel was awarded government grants to make a series of photo-essays of unusual subject matter, and she would pursue this in the following year, her so-called Year of Expedition.
Dec 28, 2020
by
AureliusReyes
here is chapter 2 and part of 3
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Chapter 2 - Dabbling in Photography
Reports from Ohio and even northwestern China have shown that Mountweazel had begun to lose interest in fountain design in her early adulthood. She had been growing in reputation and prestige, and her first international consultation was for a cult in northwestern China. Mountweazel’s advisor, Dimitri Vodalyskav, had informed Mountweazel of the dubious distinctions that the cult had appropriated, but Mountweazel ignored this advice.
On June 17th, 1963, her twenty-first birthday, Mountweazel flew to northwestern China to design fountains of the cult’s revered leader, Danube. Whether “Danube” was his first or last name is unknown. Regardless, Mountweazel began to design the fountain with a noticeable resentment. It was originally thought that Mountweazel had been repulsed by the cult’s ideals, but studies have unveiled the truth -- Mountweazel had later written in a diary entry that she greatly admired the cult’s principals and she had only had a bad headache.
She further detailed that she had snapped at one of the cult members due to sickness. This is indeed true and is common in the standard retelling of the tale. In her own words, in 1966:
I have deep regret inside, Mountweazel wrote, even from all those years ago. The cult whom I had grown a strong admiration for; the member I had wanted to ask out on a date -- all those opportunities and wishes vanished at my rash behavior. All because of a stupid headache!
Further research has supported Mountweazel’s words. However, the cult has since died out and this information was never passed on to them. The cult leader, at Mountweazel’s rude remark (that is still unknown in specificity), immediately threatened Mountweazel, grabbing her pillbox hat and tossing it into a cavern. (Although not important, the color of the hat is a point of dispute. Some claim that it was blue while others declare it was green.) Mountweazel’s team quickly evacuated her, and purportedly the paparazzi quickly followed them. It was originally assumed they escaped through a taxi, though it is far more likely that their escape method was a helicopter.
More details of this theatrical escape have since been revealed. The co-ambassador of Mountweazel’s team had stayed behind to fend off the cult, but it is more than likely that he was killed while doing so. Additionally, the cult member that Mountweazel had developed a romantic affinity to had attempted to venture into the cavern to seek Mountweazel’s discared pillbox hat. When retrieving it, he reportedly did a dance while singing this song, translated:
“Red hat, red hat, red hat! I really love this red hat of Lillian Virginia Mountweazel! She will be mine!”
The lyrics of this song contradict the claims of two sides, as it seems to disprove the claims of the hat being green and that of the hat being blue. Either way, it is clear that the cult member was thrown into the cavern by the cult’s leader -- if not, it is possible that cannibalism was committed that day.
This series of bizarre events assumedly led to a monumental decision of Mountweazel. That day, she decided to pursue photography, as is evidenced by her diary entry from 1971:
Oh, alas, I vividly and clearly remember that ever-auspicious day in 1963 -- it feels like eons ago, but I remember. I was in despair at the events that had unfolded that day and was on the verge of shattering. But before my inner candle extinguished, I realized the opportunity I had to expand my success and renown, so that it would be everlasting, surpassing even myself. I decided I would pursue photography -- and how fruitful that decision proved to be.
Why Mountweazel chose photography specifically is still unknown, despite our best efforts.
Chapter 3 - Rise to Stardom
Mountweazel ventured into the realm of photography with unparalleled vigor, but, like her mother, struggled at first and, like her mother, was angered at her quandary.
Making a risky move by venturing to New York on a low budget, Mountweazel was denied by six photography companies, all of which sent her rejection letters of various scathingness. One such letter read as follows:
Dear Sir Mountweazel,
Not to forego all niceties, but your photography skills are simply abysmal. Please consider signing up for a job as a pianist in our city orchestra.
Kindest regards,
Aleric C. E. Minka, CEO of Photographica Generica
Abashed by the mislabel on herself, without taking a chance to consider, Mountweazel instantaneously rushed to the City Orchestra of New York and was promptly rejected, almost cartoonishly pushed out the front doors.
Mountweazel was reported as weeping on the sidewalks in a dusty cardigan, as follows the claims of various pedestrians with a range of sketchy characteristics. According to various sources, Mountweazel was approached by a stranger whose name was revealed after Mountweazel’s death to be Bosco Pertwee. This is further evidenced by a diary entry from Mountweazel -- the date has been inked but it can be reasonably assumed it was written in late 1971 to early 1972.
The stranger who approached me after my sorrowful rejections by six photography companies in a row. And further still, rejected by the New York City Orchestra, in a way ever akin to my mother. At a point of darkness and solitude, I was afraid I was doomed for a career -- a life, even -- of impending oblivion, my legacy to falter like a fallen angel. But the stranger who approached me could be considered my savior; my messiah, even. Without him, I could never have continued my journey in photography. And I am thankful forevermore to him.
Mountweazel continues to describe the event in a way similar to the one commonly retold. However, the details of the stranger’s (Bosco Pertwee) clothing differs from Mountweazel to eye-witnesses. It is accepted Mountweazel’s version is the accurate one, though no one is certain.
To approach me -- a sniveling stranger on the sidewalk, unsuccessful at my photographic aspirations. To have such tremendous courage to do such a bold act. I recall that he asked me about my predicament and I frantically and desperately told him of my fountain design gone wrong; my photography dreams soon to be doomed. He took me to a company unbeknownst to me and even offered me his midnight trench coat. I wish I would’ve asked for his name.
Eye-witnesses are persistent in claiming Bosco Pertwee donned a white trench coat, and some speculate Mountweazel was color blind, but no evidence has backed up such a claim. It has been declared by the Mountweazel Association that these people are a part of some radical trickery group, keen on practically pranking researchers. Other such claims of these people include that Pertwee was actually a drug lord of the mafia; further still, some claim that he was rude and offensive to Mountweazel. Whatever it may be, it is accepted that Pertwee did indeed advance Mountweazel’s photography career.
Pertwee took Mountweazel to what we now know was a company called Amani Photography, but Mountweazel persistently misspells this name in all of her entries:
He took me to Albany Photography, and their company is simply wonderful. I could never forget anything about it, as Albany had helped me tremendously throughout my life.
Pertwee immediately abandoned Mountweazel after she stepped into the lobby of Amani, but this abandonment didn’t seem to affect Mountweazel’s view of Pertwee.
Dec 27, 2020
by
AureliusReyes
