#Brecce

[theunbearablelightnessofbein]

Mi trovo adesso di fronte a una roccia. Si spacca. No, non è spaccata. È come prima. È di nuovo spaccata, interamente. No, non è più spaccata, affatto. Di nuovo si spacca. Di nuovo smette d'essere spaccata, e tutto ricomincia indefinitamente. Roccia intatta, poi sfaldatura, poi roccia intatta, poi sfaldatura, poi roccia intatta, poi sfaldatura...

[queerographies]

[Simulacri][Jacopo Camagni][Marco B. Bucci]

Simulacri: Segreti, Passioni e Mostri Striscianti sull’Isola dell’Elba Di cosa parla Simulacri. Vol. 1: Brecce Titolo: Simulacri. Vol. 1: BrecceSoggetto: Jacopo Camagni e Marco B. BucciSceneggiatura: Marco B. Bucci e Eleonora C. CarusoDisegni: Flavia Biondi, Giulio Macaione e Jacopo CamagniColori: Stefano MartinuzEdito da: Sergio Bonelli EditoreAnno: 2022Pagine: 72ISBN: 9788869617317 La vita…

[thesilicontribesman]

'The Monymusk Reliquary', The National Museum of Scotland, Edinburgh

This is one of the most important early Christian objects to survive in Scotland.

Made in the 8th century CE, nothing more is known about it until it was first recorded as being at Monymusk House, Aberdeenshire in 1859. Initial interpretations argued that it was a reliquary of St Columba called the 'Breac Beannach'.

Medieval texts speak of the 'Breac Beannach' being carried into battle to protect the Scottish army. Exactly what this object was is unclear, but its Old Gaelic name 'brecc bennach' translates as 'the glittering peaked one'. 'Peaked' was sometimes used figuratively for the gable of a house. However there is no proven link between St Columba and this unique casket.

[cappottoestivo]

Ecco, quando anziché maledire le ferite, anziché ignorarle e tirare avanti, anziché farcela, ci fermiamo e le ascoltiamo, le sentiamo, le leggiamo e le lasciamo parlare, ci facciamo scolari delle ferite, allora, anche se dolorosamente e con tempi lunghi, tempi vegetali e musicali, le ferite si trasformano in brecce.

Chandra Livia Candiani

[scotianostra]

On July 13th 1249 Alexander III, was crowned King of Scots at Scone.

Son of Alexander II, and a direct descendant of the first king of the Scots, Kenneth mac Alpin, Alexander was born at Roxburgh in 1241.

Walter Bower, canon of Inchcolm writing some 200 years later described the coronation as such:

In accordance with the custom which had grown up in the kingdom from antiquity right up to that time, after the solemn ceremony of the king's coronation, the bishops with the earls brought the king to the cross which stands in the cemetery at the east end of the church. With due reverence they installed him there on the royal seat which had been bedecked with silk cloths embroidered with gold. So when the king was solemnly seated on this royal seat of stone, with his crown on his head and his sceptre in his hand, and clothed in royal purple, and at his feet the earls and other nobles were setting down their stools to listen to a sermon, there suddenly appeared a venerable, grey-haired figure, an elderly Scot. Though a wild highlander he was honourably attired after his own fashion, clad in a scarlet robe. Bending his knee in a scrupulously correct manner and inclining his head, he greeted the king in his mother tongue, saying courteously: 'God bless the king of Albany, Alexander mac Alexander, mac William, mac Henry, mac David.' And so reciting the genealogy of the kings of Scots he kept on to the end. In Latin translated here into English as this:

Hail Alexander, king of Scots, son of Alexander, son of William, son of Henry, son of David, son of Malcolm, son of Duncan, son of Bethoc, daughter of Malcolm, son of Kenneth, son of [Malcolm, son of Donald, son of Constantine, son of Kenneth, son of] Alpin, son of Eochaid [or Achay], son of Aed Find, son of Eochaid, son of Domnall Brecc, son of Eochaid Buide, son of Aedan, son of Gabran, son of Domangart, son of Fergus Mor, son of Erc, son of Eochaid Munremor, son of Engusafith, son of Fethelmech Aslingith, son of Enegussa Buchin, son of Fethelmech Romaich, son of Sencormach, son of Cruithlinch, son of Findachar, son of Akirkirre, son of Ecthach Andoch, son of Fiachrach Catmail, son of Ecddach Ried, son of Coner, son of Mogolama, son of Lugchag Etholach, son of Corbe Crangring, son of Daradiomore, son of Corbe Findmor, son of Coneremor, son of Ederskeol, son of Ewen, son of Eliela, son of Iair, son of Dethach, son of Sin, son of Rosin, son of Ther, son of Rether, son of Rowem, son of Arindil, son of Mane, son of Fergus the first king of the Scots in Albany.

Two years later,aged about 10, he married Margaret, daughter of King Henry III of England. He had been "engaged" to her from infancy.

He became a strong ruler and as a result of his marriage there was little conflict with England. He successfully defeated an invasion by King Haakon of Norway at the Battle of Largs in 1263. Following this, the Treaty of Perth transferred the Hebrides and the Isle of Man to Scotland from Norway. As part of the peace-making, his daughter married Haakon's grandson, Eric II - their daughter Margaret later became Queen of Scotland, well on paper anyway.

Alexander's first wife died in 1275 and the death of his sons, David in 1281 and Alexander in 1284, left him without a male heir. Alexander married a second time in order to produce a direct heir. His bride was Yolande of Dreux, but on 19th March 1286, within six months of his marriage, his horse stumbled in the dark in Fife as he was returning to his wife and he died at the foot of the cliff.

[allecram-me]

Mi pronuncio

Questo anno bianco di rumore e di umori fugaci è passato, e poche brecce nel muro di quella geometria serrata che ho imposto ai miei giorni hanno derogato il suo ritmo regolare. Praticamente, nel mio tentativo diretto e disperato di agire piuttosto che pensare, mi sono attribuita un sacco di responsabilità nuove, che dovevano avere il gusto della libertà dai vecchi epiteti, e dal naufragio che mi lasciavo alle spalle. Responsabilità estemporanee del tipo di indugiare tutta la serata in cucina, sigaretta dopo sigaretta, chiacchiera dopo chiacchiera - non vivere più sola mi ha posto condizioni che ho abbracciato come venivano, l’affitto sulle spalle lo pago ogni mese senza pensarci, e le bollette non le aspetto: i soldi che ci sono, se ne vanno, col tutto che mi fa meno effetto dello scorrere invano dell’acqua di quelle fontanelle pubbliche che ancora non hanno un interruttore a richiedere al flusso uno scopo. Sono sincera nel dire che non ho più chiesto a me stessa un bilancio, e lo testimoniano tutte le parole che avrei potuto scrivere - pensare - e che, sul serio, non sono venute più fuori. Adesso però sono qui a spolverare i banchi del mio dolcissimo e storico tribunale, e la tentazione potrebbe essere fortissima, è la cosa più animale che una creatura cerebrale come me potrebbe sperimentare in un lasso di tempo molto, moltissimo lungo. Sarà la voce che legge a giudicarmi, mi assolverò o disprezzerò con l’eleganza del distacco, la prossima volta. Poco fa ho fatto esperienza del fatto che questa capacità non si è persa al netto del poco esercizio, e a dire il vero a volte mi capita di trovarmi anche divertente, ma la verità è, credo, semplicemente che mi voglio bene come so voler bene al prossimo, e anche un po’ di più.

Qui giace, dunque, l’ammissione che mi piace davvero raccontare le mie storie, e forse sono a questo punto anche pronta a far pace col fatto che no, non era per le mie energie un percorso obbligato, non c’è determinismo a dettarmi una certa via di fuga alle pulsioni, adesso sì che ho in tasca un sacco di carte, le alternative. Il cerchio lo potrei chiudere dicendo che, in fondo in fondo, questo modo tutto sommato caratteristico di accettare sfaccettature di me attraverso esperimenti di astensione e imbocco della strategia diametrale, per imparare contemporaneamente il limite e l’onnipotenza, è il motore irriducibile di tutte le storie, e probabilmente assomiglia pure all’orizzonte di libertà coltivato in terapia, per quello che m’immagino. Come ballare, parlare in pubblico, non scrivere, disinnamorarsi, vivere in questo quartiere piuttosto ostile, lavorare per persone i cui valori sono il rovescio del mio cielo, fare chilometri a piedi per conquistare un tragitto in treno incredibilmente corto. E in tutto questo, poi, amarmi davvero, pelle, depressione, voce e ossa.

Mi è venuta voglia di farmi un tatuaggio, e di incidermi da qualche parte addosso qualcosa di molto simile a ciò con cui introdurrò nell’arco di un anno la mia tesi di dottorato. L’anima, la salvezza, la legittima, sacrosanta maniera squisitamente soggettiva di tenere insieme queste cose: dio mi fulmini se mi dimentico ancora di questo diritto. Dio mi fulmini se torno indietro. Ci meritiamo tutto: il rispetto, la scienza, e le storie. E anche la pace. Ci meritiamo di dimenticare, di ricordare, e di passeggiare tranquillamente in questo bosco.

[tech2no2]

[ricorditempestosi]

ed alla fine ognuno di noi può essere solamente quello che è

la vera fortuna è trovare qualcuno che abbia brecce dove noi abbiamo spigoli così che abbracciati ci si possa addormentare l'uno sui difetti dell'altro

[roehenstart]

Legendary Kings of Scotland (by Jacob Jacobsz de Wet II):

61: Etfinus. Áed Find (Áed the White), or Áed mac Echdach (before 736–778), was king of Dál Riata (modern western Scotland and County Antrim, Ireland). Áed was the son of Eochaid mac Echdach, a descendant of Domnall Brecc in the main line of Cenél nGabráin kings. According to later genealogies, Áed was the great-grandfather of Kenneth MacAlpin (Cináed mac Ailpín) who is traditionally counted as the first king of Scots. This descent ran through Áed's son Eochaid mac Áeda Find and Eochaid's son Alpín mac Echdach. The evidence for the existence of Eochaid and Alpín is uncompelling.

62: Eugene VIII (Eógan mac Muiredaig).

63: Fergus III (Fergus mac Echdach; 778-781). He succeeded Áed Find. He is stated to have been a son of Eochaid mac Echdach, and thus a brother of Áed.

64: Solvathius (Selbach mac Ferchair). He (died 730) was king of the Cenél Loairn and of Dál Riata. Selbach's existence is well-attested as he is mentioned repeatedly in Irish annals.

[thelastminecraftdiares]

⟢My Finale Dairies | Chapter 1 : Love & Lies

 

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 +               ✦ Chapter 1 : Love n Lies ✦                 +

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Princess Clémence Lemo: Angelic Love towards a Goddess and mortal… The forbidden fruits of love will forever change the lines of fate. 

Frolicking around the garden is the youngest Princess Apsimar, touching the dandelions blowing the cloudy seed fluff into the air with a big huff. “ Blossom, where may you be young one? “ 

The rustling of the brushes aside, stepping closer emerges the Princess Clémence. With a 

a soft smile on her face letting out a small sigh, “ Blossom you can’t just play in the bushes silly. What would you have done if I hadn’t found you? “ 

Her golden locks shined against the sun like a halo. Her skin youthful like honey, eyes glistened like emeralds in the honey dew light. The light lacing of her soft pink dress shimmered and shone in the setting sun.

Reaching her hands toward Apsimar scooping the young princess in her hands. “ We should go inside, it will be night soon “

 Reaching out, blurry vision, tears rolled down her cheeks. The warmth she once had from the memory. It was faint… 

“ Blossom is long gone, let her go “ she whispered to herself, the frosty air slightly cracking her lips, and biting at her eyes. 

Looking towards her balcony, she sets her feet onto the cold floor gracefully stepping towards the frost tinted windows of the balcony. The different hues and shades of the glass panes surrounds her. She grabbed a cushion from the bench, placing it onto the cold floor. Resting on her knees she looks up, tears in her eyes. 

“ Life n Death has no soul, Souls are in the eyes of those who seek life and Death is seeked by those who used to crave love… “ 

“ And yet you suffer trying to find the lines between love and lies… lies of love and love of lies hearts filled with hatred of words of sweetness of nectar… “ 

“ And YET you allow ME to suffer… “ her voice was ragged and shaky. Fist clenched into something fierce. 

“WHY DO YOU LET ME SUFFER MOTHER WHY!? “ she screamed upward to the sky knowing herwords wouldn’t reach. The room's door was slightly cracked open, a worried maid called out “ Lady Lemo are you okay? What are you doing out of bed? “ 

“ I’m fine Mary, just taking in some air before getting back to bed “ said Clémence. Shuffling back to her feet, stumbling back over to the bed, her eyes halfway frosted shut. Clémence lays down on the rich fabric of the bed before slowly drifting back to sleep. 

Crackling sunlight creeps up to her skin sharply disturbing the slumber she was once enjoying. 

The pitter patter of Mary’s feet across the wooden floor, causing Clémence to rise from the sleepy lands of her pillow. “ What may you be doing Mar- “ cutting her words short, Clémence takes an egg shell white envelope from Mary’s hands. The red and golden mixed emblem with a  capital B with a rose next to it. Clémence bit her lip till it blushed with color, opening the letter with her paper knife. 

Clémence began to read aloud “ Dear Clémence Lemo you’ve been propagated to produce an air with Oldest Son of Orsoaltios Brecc of the Brecc’s estate- “ Her hands started to tremble with an abundance of emotions. 

“ Are you doing okay Lady Lemo- y-y-you seem pale in the face “ Mary said with concern in her voice. 

Her eyes still glazed over from the lack of sleep. “ May my mother strike me down, I won’t marry a Lord's son… Nor anyones son who i do not choose the heart of “ 

Clémence chest felt like it was collapsing on itself. She grabbed Mary’s collar, anger filled her eyes, her once sparkly emerald eyes seemed almost like coal.  

Mary felt fear from the pull “ M-My lady we mustn't be fussy about family issues.. “ her tone unsure. 

“ Mary i’d rather die than marry a man who only wants a goddesses blood “ her eye spark with an idea “ 

Mary’s eyes widens from the spark “ LADY LEMO NO WE CAN’T “ 

“ MARY if you wish to stay by my side you’d let me fake my passing “ her words felt like venom to Mary’s soul. 

Pulling away in fear from Clémence she winced at the idea. “ Lady Lemo I can't… "Her voice is low and soft. “ Then I'm no lady of your’s leave my sight Mary. i forbid you a do “ 

Mary tried to open her mouth to protest but Clémence threw a small crystal statue in Mary’s direction. “ GET OUT MARY “ she screamed, throwing books, pillows, backing away Mary cowering towards the door opening it and slamming it behind herself. 

Once Mary left Clémence sighed, looking at the balcony, and leaped out of bed she rushed over smiling brighter than ever. She reaches for the latch on the panes opening it just wide enough that she could slip though… 

“ May the Goddesses blood end with me “ 

TO BE CONTINUED…

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[kurtandrea]

Il canto di me stesso (LII)

Il falco maculato mi saetta accanto, mi accusa,

riprende le mie chiacchiere e il mio indugio.

Neanch'io sono stato domato, sono anch'io intraducibile,

scaglio il mio grido barbarico sopra i tetti del mondo.

L'ultimo rapido raggio del giorno si attarda per me,

proietta la mia immagine dietro le altre, come qualsiasi altra esatta sui deserti d'ombre,

e mi attrae nella bruma e nel crepuscolo.

Mi allontano come l'aria, scuoto i miei bianchi riccioli al sole che fugge,

effondo la mia carne dentro, vortici, la trascino dentro brecce frastagliate.

Mi abbandono ai rifiuti della terra per crescere con l'erba che amo,

se ancora mi vuoi, cercami sotto la suola delle scarpe.

Difficilmente comprenderai chi sono o che cosa significo,

ma non di meno sarò per te la salute,

e filtrerò e rafforzerò il tuo sangue.

Se non riuscirai a trovarmi subito, non perdere coraggio,

se non mi trovi in un luogo cercami in un altro,

In qualche luogo mi son fermato ad attenderti.

[mediaevalmusereads]

A Kingdom to Claim. By Sian Ann Bessey. Shadow Mountain Publishing, 2024.

Rating: 2.5/5 stars

Genre: historical fiction

Series: N/A

Summary: Aisley’s young life was changed forever when her father accompanied King Alfred into battle and lost his life in a deadly skirmish with the Vikings. Now, almost seven years later, the Vikings are once again rallying on Wessex’s borders, and Aisley fears that her older brother may have treacherous plans to betray the king by aligning himself with the invading Norsemen. But when Aisley encounters a handsome nobleman in the market, she feels the first stirrings of hope. Though they met only once when Aisley was little more than a child, she recognizes him immediately as one of King Alfred’s most trusted men.

It has been years since Brecc has seen Aisley, but when he spots her in the marketplace, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the copper-haired young lady with a gift for healing. Before his fledgling feelings for her can develop into something more, however, a Viking attack tears them apart. King Alfred is forced into hiding, and in a matter of days, the Saxon nation is brought to its knees. Unwilling to forsake their people, the king and his men embark on secret raids of Viking encampments. But when Aisley joins the fight, Brecc must reconcile his steadfast loyalty to King Alfred with his growing love for the king’s newest warrior.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: blood, violence

OVERVIEW: One of my good friends asked me to read this, so here we are. This book is set in 9th century England, which is exactly in my realm of expertise. Overall, I struggle to rate this book because I think it does a good job avoiding the worst tropes associated with historical fiction (especially fiction set in the European middle ages/viking era), but as a story, it didn't quite capture my attention. So my 2.5 rating has nothing to do with the history being inaccurate; rather, I think the craft of storytelling was not to my tastes and even lacked in some areas.

WRITING: Bessey's prose has some qualities that I think might appeal to some readers: it's fairly straight-forward and quick, so it does feel almost like the prose one would expect in a romance.

However, there were a lot of things that I didn't particularly enjoy. For one, characters speak in a manner that feels overly formal and wooden. I understand the desire to recreate "historically accurate" speech patterns, and I also understand the desire to show the difference in class by having the upper class sound more formal than the lower class. But personally, I'm not a stickler for this kind of accuracy and I find that wooden dialogue detracts from the story more than it enhances "realism."

For two, this book is, is my opinion, overwritten. Bessey focuses on details that don't really matter and explains everything down to why a basket in the kitchen is empty or why X character might not notice Y. These details, in my opinion, preclude the author from showing (rather than telling) and leaves little room for the reader to bring their own perspectives to the story. I think Bessey needed to hold back and think more about what was most important - even though research is admirable, the story should take precedent.

PLOT: The plot of this book follows two people: Aisley (a noble woman and healer) and Brecc (an ealdorman and thane of King Alfred the Great). The characters find themselves swept up in both an attraction that evolves into romance and in the conflict between Wessex and Viking invaders in the 9th century, and they must use their skills to ensure Alfred unites the kingdom and drives the threat from their homes.

I very much respected that Bessey created a world that didn't repeat some of the worst tropes of historical fiction. I was relieved that no one was shouting "witchcraft!" at Aisley for her knowledge of medicinal herbs (because seriously: medieval people - even Christians - used herbs!) and I appreciated that Christianity was neither ignored nor demonized. Bessey also did away with toxic masculinity and the constant threat of rape, so though there is always the risk of violence from the vikings, this book doesn't revel in the "grittiness" and violence against women that I absolutely hate in most media set during this time period.

All that being said, it was difficult to feel much enthusiasm for this story because it seemed like more focus was on the world and the history than on individual character motivations. Both Aisley and Brecc act out of loyalty to the king, which is all well and good, but they didn't seem to have personal arcs. Sure, things happen to them, but I didn't get a feeling for what either character wanted or what they were striving for.

On top of that, this book didn't seem to know what genre it wanted to be. The focus on the politics and history made me think it was historical fiction with a romantic subplot, but the marketing also had me thinking it might be historical romance. By the end, I didn't think. Aisley and Brecc's relationship was central enough to justify this book being romance, so readers shouldn't go in with those expectations.

Lastly, I couldn't help but feel like there was a giant missed opportunity. Aisley is a healer and her story takes place during King Alfred's reign. In real-life, Alfred famously suffered from chronic gastrointestinal issues (perhaps Crohn's Disease), but none of that makes it into the book. I normally wouldn't fault an author for picking amd choosing what to include/exclude, but since one character is a healer, it seems like there was such lost potential - having Aisley be some kind of help to Alfred would have given her and Brecc more opportunities to interact and thus strengthen their romantic plot.

CHARACTERS: While I do appreciate the way the medieval world is portrayed in this book, the individual characters were just not very interesting to me. It seemed like the characters were just there to describe the goings-on of Alfred and what it might have been like to live in the 9th century, which is fine, but not exactly a story.

Aisley, our heroine, is admirable for her compassion and knowledge of medicinal herbs. But her abilities and compassion has little bearing on the plot. She doesn't use her abilities to, say, make herself valuable to either the king or to the vikings, and her compassion, while nice, doesn't really signify because there isn't a time when she uses it to, say, spare someone who doesn't deserve it. On top of that, Bessey writes Aisley as having tears in her eyes a lot - I couldn't tell if Aisley was an easy crier or if the descriptions were merely repetitive. Still, there were some good things: Aisley does have agency and acts to protect people rather than feign helplessness. She also has a strong sense of loyalty and isn't afraid to challenge her family. I just wish more of these things were used to give her a unique character arc.

Brecc, our hero, is fairly bland in that he's a devoted follower of Alfred and acts honorably 100% of the time. Though I appreciate that Bessey didn't give him traits that I loathe in historical men, Brecc also didn't feel like he had much going on. His desire to protect Aisley and his duty to the king were not really in conflict enough to be a serious concern, and even his loyalty isn't personal enough - it's just a given. His romance with Aisley also feels very safe and uncomplicated, which is fine if you like fluffier romances but not so great for a novel-length story.

Side characters were fine. I liked Brecc's friendship with Rheged (another thane) because it felt more personal and the two were prone to teasing one another. Their rapport felt natural compared to most other interactions in the book. Aisley's family was ok; they're not super well-developed and their obvious annoyance with Aisley was kind of irritating, but the fact that they were disappointed with Alfred was a good way of instilling conflict. Alfred himself was also kind of bland; he acts the perfect king, which is fine but not necessarily interesting. Bessey hints at some inner conflict with him, but not much is done in the plot itself to truly explore questions of duty and loyalty.

TL;DR: While I greatly appreciated that the medieval world was written without some of the worst tropes and the author seemed to have a genuine love for history, there just wasn't enough to make the characters themselves interesting.

[viviween]

Non ci sono più state, dopo il 20 settembre 1870, "brecce di Porta Pia": quelli erano uomini amabili, non le amebe seguite: maschi ritardati a cui, se uno sciamano dice "fai questo", loro fanno: coglioni che insegnano con il crocifisso in classe; coglioni che esercitano la professione di "medico" con crocifisso e cappella in ospedale; coglioni che emettono una sentenza in tribunale, con il crocifisso appeso sopra le loro teste: questa è la misura di quanto i maschi italiani facciano cagare.

[servizi-di-pronto-intervento-24]

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Dove Operiamo1: Centro Storico, Guasco, San Pietro, Capodimonte, Porto, Spina dei corsi, piazza Cavour, via Palestro, via Santo Stefano 2: Passetto, Adriatico, Pietralacroce, Borgo Rodi 3: Archi, Vallemiano, via Tiziano, via XXV Aprile, via M. Resistenza, Stazione, Palombella, via de Gasperi, Monte Marino, via della Ferrovia 4: Grazie, Tavernelle, via Ranieri 5: Brecce Bianche, Q1, Q2, Q3, Ponterosso, Passo Varano, PIP, Pinocchio, Università, Pontelungo, via Alpi, via Appennini 6: Piano S.Lazzaro, Palombare, Scrima, Posatora, Fornetto 7: Torrette, Barcaglione, Colleameno, Collemarino, Palombina 8: Montacuto, Poggio, Varano, Massignano 9: Montesicuro, Ghettarello, Sappanico, Gallignano, Aspio, Candia, Paterno, Casine di Paterno

[70tre]

Ti chiameranno riparatore di brecce... (Is 58,9-14)

[gaetaniu]

Esposizione del bedrock

Questa osservazione è stata richiesta per la co-analisi con lo strumento CRISM (e altri set di dati) per aiutare a determinare le origini dei diversi materiali esposti in una serie di massicci associati all’enorme bacino d’impatto di Hellas. L’alta risoluzione sarà utile per i dettagli su scala fine, come le tessiture del bedrock e le brecce. Fonte