#Chicken Motifs

[anthonyspage]

🌹💎🐓🔮💖

[raayllum]

Such elegant simplicity, such power. For ripples grow: They collide, they churn, they drown. They rise like waves or drag into the darkest depths below. I hope the stars were watching. I hope they saw it: the moment their perfect reflections turned warped and ruined, churned to chaos by the touch of a single human hand. In this, the humans taught me another lesson. And so I touch the surface of the water. I watch the ripples spread.

Moonless Night / Ripples

[clawmarks]

Librairie des Arts Décoratifs - c.1900 - via Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Dresden (SLUB)

[soullessjack]

6am exhaustion posting but it’s very funny to me that jack is compared to so many serpents, the biblical serpent in the garden. the ouroboros. the black snake. and then he loves fantasy movies with heroes that crush villains. he reads fairy tales like sleeping beauty, fairy tales that predominantly have knights in shining armor slaying the dragon or the serpent. obviously with him wanting to be a hero he’d follow the KISH archetype, but also look. serpents are medievally satanic symbols. fairy tales are majority stemmed in European Christianity. He’s literally a dragon that wants to be a knight . A satanic if not Thee Satanic Serpent wanting to be a hero and a Knight In Shining Armor and actively partaking in slaying other beasts for acceptance. this vision came to me with caffeine and zero sleep but do you see it .do you see how this is insane and also funny. Do you understand it …..

[ultrakillingmyself]

Fuck it 2am gunmetal yuri what the Fuck ever

[twistingthread]

etsy

[freepassbound]

Stunningly, edible.

[lelianaslefthand]

idk why but my last rb just psychic beamed the idea of rosalind amell (oc) and wyll into my mind and its making me a little crazy ngl

[tsukimefuku]

Pardon my French, but holy shit this is so fucking good I body slammed myself against a wall thank you

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 6

Contents: pre-relationship, establishing feelings, slow burn, dinner dates, slow romance, first kisses.

When Kento said that he wanted to do things the right way, he was being very serious. You received more phone calls from him on each day of the week, at exactly the same time. He would call even if he'd seen you at work, albeit briefly, during the course of the day. He always made sure to first ask if you were occupied with anything else.

Each time you spoke was like filling in a new blank space on a crossword. A cryptic crossword, to be more precise. Everything you learned about him was either slipped like a knife between the rich layers of your conversations or hard won through every verbal sparring match you engaged in. It wasn't as if your interaction with him had become more complicated or less easy. The flow of thoughts and their exchange was still the most natural thing you both had engaged in.

There was so much more now, though, so much that hinged on Kento being comfortable enough to show you the parts of himself reserved for his leisure time. This was the self that manifested when he was truly off the clock and the rigid persona that inhabited his daylight hours could be shelved in favour of the man who simmered like a delightful burst of flavour, hidden just beneath the surface.

Kento was sensitive to the feelings of others. He was far less self-reliant than he thought (as responsible as the man was, he had terrible sleeping habits and ran through suits horrendously fast considering the nature of his work). He bought lots of books that he hadn't yet read, told his protégés numerous times not to look to him as an example, and then acted as exactly that, secretly indulged in romantic serials and b-grade martial arts films, ate fried chicken with beer every Tuesday and liked to visit the aquarium on his down time because watching the fish relaxed him. He always ended those aquarium trips by eating a sushi meal set, something you told him was decidedly morbid.

As someone who had spent years feeling drained by the many social interactions that came with any working day, speaking to Kento was a refreshing change, and not just because he was the man you had rapidly deepening feelings for. There was something about talking to him that left you feeling a little more enriched each time, as if some mischievous spirit, leashed by the strings that left lovers hopelessly entangled, danced with a loaded paint brush through your life, esoteric colours in unheard-of shades splashing against the placid walls of your current life.

Kento was a hopelessly beautiful mess of contradictions. Solid, yet vulnerable. Dependable, yet never disguising his yearning to live for something more. Practical and no-nonsense, yet a dreamer and an idealist. A man who gave himself no excuses, nor shirked responsibility, but made no secret of his desire for a soft life on a sunny beach.

You would not exchange him for anyone else in the world.

The second time you go out together, he calls it a date. He is completely unabashed in his approach. He sees no need to conceal what you both know to be the truth, now that it has been acknowledged. It's something you have keen appreciation for. He doesn't message you the details, instead asking you outright in the break room, where you meet regularly for lunch.

He wants to go to a specific seafood place that he feels you will enjoy. When you cheerfully agree, he touches you with intention for the first time.  It is only momentary, as if he can't contain the desire to do so. He reaches across the table and gently brushes his fingers over your wrist before that same hand smoothly unwraps the packaging on his lunch. You think that it's almost unfair, the effect that this small contact has on you, but then you see that his hands fumble with the chopsticks slightly.

Of course, it's only a matter of time before the conversation that is completely necessary takes place. You didn't know when it would occur, but the second time you go out together turns out to be the occasion.

He waits for you in the garden after work, as he did the last time. You're starting to learn how important routine in small matters is to him. You take your stroll through the school grounds, lingering in the familiar spaces that now feel new, due to the person beside you.

Kento is amused by the turn your conversation has taken.

"So, you've never learned how to swim?"

"Never. Even though I lived fairly near the ocean when I was younger."

"But what was it about the water that scared you?"

"Do I really have to tell you?"

"Yes."

"Is that an order?"

"More like a strong suggestion."

"How considerate of you, sir."

Kento clears his throat, and you glance sideways at him. Smiling, you continue.

"It wasn't the water itself. It was more the idea of what was beneath it. It's wasn't about what I could see, rather what I imagined was there."

"And what did you imagine?"

"Sharks."

"There were sharks near where you grew up?"

"Very rarely. But I thought of them anyway."

"Did you, perhaps, watch - "

You laugh and shake your head.

"Jaws? No, so that wasn't the reason."

He hums thoughtfully.

"All human fear has its root in a primal cause. It's our desire for survival, our learned fear. But not all fear is learned. Sometimes, we fear things that we can't quite put a name to."

This time, you're the one that can't hold back. You reach for him, the back of your hand brushing his.

"What are you afraid of, Kento?"

He pauses, before gently entangling your fingers. The simplicity of the gesture, along with its weight, steals your breath momentarily. He seems similarly lost for the appropriate words, the contact of your skin and his forming all the communication you are both capable of in that moment. Eventually, when the car draws up alongside, he has an answer for you.

"I'm afraid of many things. And my list grows longer every day."

The place he has chosen, ironically, is a quaint seaside cafe, a fair distance from Jujutsu Tech. This was why he had asked to leave earlier today. The place is situated on a high ridge overlooking a long, winding staircase that leads to a faint strip of shingle below. The sea looks rough, the weather grey and uninviting, which makes the atmosphere within the cafe seem cosier by comparison. The table he chooses is private, and this time you are seated closer to him, the setting more intimate.

"How did you find this place?"

"I was on a solo mission in the area for a few days. Got caught in a storm and found my way in here."

"Lucky coincidence. I like this place a lot. It's warm."

Your eyes travel across to Kento whose posture is a tad stiff. You realise that because he had come here alone on the previous occasion, he hadn't accounted for how small the seating space at each booth was with two people present. The leather couches formed an 'L' which left your shins pressed against the backs of his very long legs. You never were good at disguising your amusement and Kento watches you with narrowed eyes as you peruse the menu and wiggle your toes slightly. He clears his throat and taps his fingers along the edge of his drinks list.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Very."

"Hmm."

"Why, aren't you?"

"I mean to say, does this seating arrangement make you wish for more space?"

"No. It's cosy."

He goes back to reading the drinks list and remains noticeably rigid, as if he is doing everything in his power to keep from making you uncomfortable. It's not long before he asks again.

"Are you sure that you don't want to move?"

"Oh no. Not at all."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

"Is this my first personal encounter with your stubborn streak?"

"Perhaps it is."

You look up and can't help the laugh that escapes you at his put-out expression. You move your legs further along until they rest beneath his ankles, a far more comfortable position for both of you.

"Better, my good sir?"

The corners of his mouth curve upward, as if against his will and he relaxes, leaning back in his seat.

"Better."

The appetisers arrive, soft shell crab thermidor for him and sake-steamed abalone for you. He insists that you taste some of his food and you manage to sneak a small sample of yours onto his plate. As you wait for the entrée, sipping on the piping hot tea served in a beautiful earthenware pot, your gaze is caught by the turbulent sea, the distant waves breaking against the shoreline with a muffled roar.

"What are you thinking about now?"

Kento is watching you when you turn back to him. His voice is soft, carrying that gentle undertone that you'd never thought you'd be fortunate enough to hear, let alone have directed at you. You close your eyes momentarily before swirling the tea in your cup, stalling for time.

"I was thinking about how happy I am right now."

"You are?"

"Yes."

There is something in his glance now, something so warm, but so heavy. Your meals arrive and there is no opportunity for you to address it. Kento tucks into his food with relish. It seems that colder weather increases his appetite and, you have to admit, you're very much the same.

He returns to the earlier conversation you'd been having. This was one of the things you appreciated most about speaking to him. You both instantly knew what the other was referring to, even if time and other topics had passed in the interim.

"Would you be open to learning how to swim?"

"Oh, yes. In fact, I've made resolutions to learn at the gym many times. But I'm not sure ... I've always ended up postponing it."

"Why?"

"Things become busy. I forget."

"Sounds like there's a deeper issue here."

"Do you plan to do something about it, then?"

"Possibly."

"Don't tell me that you were one of those kids who stood behind the scared ones at swimming lessons and pushed them into the pool."

"Do you really think I'd do that?"

"No. But how else would you get me into the water?"

"I'd provide an incentive."

"You'd feed me?"

"Just how one-track minded are you?"

"I can't think of a single other reason to get motivated."

"Maybe I'd get in first."

You almost choke on your miso cod.

"Hmm. That may work. Nanami Kento, grade one sorcerer and swimming pool siren. Has a nice ring to it."

"This conversation will never be repeated to another soul."

After supper, Kento does not call the car. There is an enclosed nook outside the restaurant, sheltered from the worst of the wind, where you both stand, his upper arm pressed against yours. It seems that many physical barriers are coming down today, something you're definitely not complaining about. There is something about the sheer strength of the man standing so close to you that is both intimidating and intoxicating. In this moment, you feel that you can say anything to him.

And, possibly, he feels the same, because his next question opens the topic you weren't able to broach earlier. The one that darkens the already narrowing spaces between your life and his.

"You said earlier that you felt happy."

"I did."

"Just for that moment in time?"

"No. Being here makes me happy. And talking to you on the phone does too."

"I'd hoped I wasn't bothering you."

"Your calls are never a bother."

That keen sweetness, the unspoken tension that always hovered so close to your tongues was thickening the air once more. Kento looked down at his hands, fists closed over the railing.

"Are you saying that I make you happy?"

"Yes, Kento."

"What if that isn't always the case?"

"Are you talking about your work as a sorcerer?"

"Yes, and ... other possibilities. If this goes any further, I need to know that you will be safe and have peace of mind. If it means me sacrificing my own happiness, and yours, temporarily, I won't hesitate to do what's necessary. I don't want to see you hurt."

You let out a soft sigh and meet his gaze. It was vital that you address this now. He was not the sort of person who would leave an issue like this hanging tentatively between you two. You cannot mince your words either, because to do so would be an injustice to someone as principled and straightforward as the man standing beside you. You realise that in this moment, there is a different type of courage surfacing inside you, one you didn't know you possessed until you met him.

"Kento, I'll be frank. If anything happened to you, I'd be hurt beyond measure. With, or without us ... progressing further than this. I can't help how I feel. It's too far beyond my control. No, I'm not ashamed to tell you so. Nor am I embarrassed. I want you to know that I will miss you when we can't spend time together. That I will worry for you when you're out in the field. That I will wait for your call and feel relief when I hear your voice. That whenever a fatality is reported, I will feel sick to my stomach and never cease looking for you until I know that you're safe."

You pause and collect yourself. It's too late now, too late to cram the words back into your mouth. Secrets like this can never be swallowed. In this business, words like these birth curses. But they also birth wondrous things, feelings you know you can no longer live without.

"I want you to know that all these things are true, but they don't make other truths lesser, simply because they exist. Knowing that I will miss you doesn't take away from the fact that I cherish the time I spend in your company. When I worry for you, it's only natural. You worry for people you care about whether they're near you or not. You can choose to do whatever you want, Kento, now or in the future. But your actions can't change the way I feel. Not now. Not ever. You can save many people, multiple times, as a sorcerer. But you can't save me from myself."

The laugh that escapes you then is a little wild, a reckless sound that you wish you hadn't uttered, but it's another on the long list of things you can't pull back into yourself.

Kento is watching you as if you've transformed before his eyes, spurred on by the treacherous ocean behind you, into some kind of weapon that holds him in thrall, as if you've dealt him some grievous wound that, somehow, births more pleasure than agony.

He doesn't speak, but his hand comes up, the broad palm unspeakably warm and heavy against the side of your face. His fingers are rough in certain places, strong and capable as they trail down your cheek, pausing intimately at the corner of your mouth, before they move down to enclose the side of your neck, thumb resting beneath your chin.

Your face turns to him, a hapless sunflower towards a solar flare that arcs across space to unfold and destroy it. Your mouth opens under his, readily, and his warm, slightly chapped lips cover yours with that gentle firmness, so characteristic of everything he does. Your head is pushed to the side, tilting as he leans into you, something desperate under the staidness of his kiss, as if he is the one who has swallowed all the words you've spoken and is attempting to breathe his own intent back into you.

Your head tilts even further, as the kiss becomes less chaste, as his lips move with greater firmness against yours. He steals every breath you attempt to take and repays it with molten honey that threatens to drown you. His fingers are now tangled in your hair and yours are clenched in the fabric of his coat.

When you separate, a necessity to keep you both from suffocating, his eyes are shut tightly, the bridge of his nose slightly creased, as if he is in pain. You don't think you've ever seen a more beautiful sight.

You echo his movement, gently cupping his cheek with your palm and guiding his face back towards yours. Not for another kiss, no. Not now. There'll be plenty of time for that later. For now, you rest his forehead against yours and close your own eyes in turn.

Something about the sigh that escapes him, the solid weight of his head against yours, the soft fall of his hair against your brow, reminds you of an illustration you've seen in one of the many storybooks you've read as a child.

A weary knight finds a safe haven in a perilous forest, his back against an old, gnarled tree, sword shoved upright into the earth before him. You are willing to be the sword, no matter how thin your edges are worn. You are willing to be the tree, no matter how scarred time makes you. You want to stand by his side, for as long as you are permitted, holding off the beasts of the forest until dawn arrives.

@tsukimefuku @kentocalls @g-kleran @actuallysaiyan

[raayllum]

"what is done cannot be undone. i am offering you a path forward" / "this path is too easy" "no it's not, it's the exact right amount of easy" / "and talk about which roads and pathways will get us slightly faster than other roads and pathways?" / "give up dark magic. it is humanity's only path forward" "it's a path backwards!" / "that's the path of despair. it's even worse than the pit, you know, in terms of the amount of despair. / "janai walks a path that leads to the end of our history" / "what if i'm on a path of darkness?" "then take another path, dummy!" / "as soon as they see i am giving them a path to restore our strength" / "the path of fate is already chosen. every step i took, i took because i had to" / "no matter where you are on the path, no matter what you've one before, every step forward is a choice!" / "i find myself here at these horrifying crossroads because i have followed a dark path, and worst of all, i have led my beloved daughter down this path"

[gothhabiba]

[ID: A tatreez piece in shades of jade green, with orange accents. A central line of Pasha's tents is surrounded by clove, chicken's teeth, sword, and heart motifs; a star of Bethlehem fills the top square, and a row of cypress trees is at the bottom. The first photo shows the piece with a large painting and a pair of slippers to show scale; the others are close-ups. End ID]

Tatreez raffle to benefit a Palestinian family

You know the drill! This tatreez piece is stitched in cotton embroidery thread on sage green linen, and is suitable as wall art, or to be repurposed as a cover for a cushion, tote bag, &c. A winner will be randomly selected in October, 2024.

You can get your hands on this piece in one of two ways:

Enter the raffle by sending me proof of a donation of at least $10 USD to Muhammad Abu Hamam's campaign.

Send me proof of a donation of at least $500 USD (I know, but this took a lot of hours!) and I will stitch another one, or something similar, just for you.

Send proof of a donation of at least $7 USD for a link to the pattern.

This is a physical product and you will need to be willing to give me a shipping address.

Design is 7.5" x 16" (19 x 41cm)

Cotton on linen

Stitched 2 over 2 on 32 count linen evenweave (16 stitches per inch)

Colors are: DMC 564, 563, 562, 505, 561, 722

[soullessjack]

𖦹

𖦹

𖦹

waiter waiter more snake motif jack web weaves!!

(pt 1/?)

-

[zoe-oneesama]

have you ever thought of another power for the rooster and peacock miraculous?

For the Rooster, I realllllllyy like @imthepunchlord's Power Rewrite "Chicken Scratch", which is pretty straight forward in explanation (You "write" a rule out and the power makes it happen) but with the fun twist of it being like a Genie's Wish or Monkey's Paw where it can mess with you if you're not careful.

I also came up with my own, "Modify" (I need a better name for it, but I'm working off "Sublimation" so I won't be too hard on myself) which can shapeshift a person or object into something different but of similar make (animals to animals, metals to metals, etc). Mostly keeping it under the umbrella of bending things to your will a bit, but powers like that need limits - the current Rooster power is too limitless as is.

Unfortunately, I don't have a power upgrade idea for the Peacock. It and the Butterfly are pretty maxed out, like the only current limit they have is they can only create one akuma/sentibeing at a time, but Hawkmoth already worked around that and while the natural conclusion is "Oh as an upgrade, you can now make as many as you want", that's not like...fun.

Obviously starting from scratch, lots of people came up with great ideas for the Peacock during the Great Hiatus before it became canon. One of my favorites was Foresight - the ability to glimpse the future. Peacocks are generally linked with mysticism and with the eye motif, it lends itself to psychics, fortune telling, astral projection, all these old school "psychic" powers. But they went with the Butterfly Knock Off, okay boo.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: 5 Symbols

for your next poem/story (pt. 5)

EGG

The egg is as powerful in its symbolism as it is potent as a life-force.

The World Egg is a ubiquitous symbol for the egg from which the Universe is said to have hatched, an idea that appears in creation myths from all parts of the world: The Celts, Hindus, Egyptians, Greeks, Phoenicians, and many more all agree about this idea.

The form this cosmic hatching takes is variable though:

Often, the egg rises from primeval waters and is incubated by a bird; in Hindu belief, this is the Hamsa, a goose.

When the egg hatches, the yolk and the white become Heaven and Earth.

The Shinto tradition says that the Universe resembled a giant hen’s egg that broke open, with the heavier parts becoming the Earth and the lighter, the Heavens.

There is also a theory that the entire Universe is contained in a huge egg that stands upright.

The egg is a symbol of new life, and this idea is borne out with chocolate eggs at Easter, which in itself is a celebration of the pre-Christian fertility Goddess, Eostre, who also gives her name to the hormone estrogen.

The subsequent celebration of Christ’s death and resurrection meant that the egg kept its significance as a symbol of new life and hope.

Archeologists have found clay eggs in Russian burial sites, reinforcing the belief in the egg as a symbol of immortality and of rebirth.

In alchemy, the Philosopher’s Egg symbolizes the seed of spiritual life, and depicts the place wherein a great transformation takes place.

The ancient riddle of what came first, chicken or egg, was deftly if disappointingly answered by Angelus Silesius, who said: The chicken was in the egg and the egg was in the chicken.

FEATHER

The Egyptian Goddess of truth, Ma’at, has the ostrich feather as her attribute. There is a very specific reason for this:

Because the ostrich is a flightless bird, the design of its feathers is different to those of other birds where one side is larger than the other.

The ostrich feather, however, is perfectly balanced and symmetrical, and so is a fitting emblem of justice.

Its symbolism is closely aligned to that of wings and birds. They stand for ascendance, flight, communication with the spirit realms and the element of air.

Shamanistic use of feathers is for all these reasons;

the feathers enable the soul to become as light as the feather and transcend the boundaries of gravity, time, and space.

Shamans of all nationalities wear feathers as a part of their ritual apparel.

The eagle feather is the most valuable of all feathers:

In some parts of the world, this feather, synonymous with all the power of the bird, is considered so sacred that only card-carrying Native American tribal members may own them. Those found in the wrong hands are the cause of heavy fines.

The swan’s feather appears in the cloaks of druids; because the swan is the bird of poetry, its feathers magically confer these powers on the bard.

Used at the end of the arrow as a “flight,” feathers have a practical as well as symbolic use.

Additionally, feathers are a symbol of sacrifice:

This is because, when chickens and other birds were ritually slaughtered, all they left behind was a few feathers, fluttering to the ground.

The other major symbolic meaning of the feather associates it with vegetation and with hair, primarily because of a similarity in appearance.

HOURGLASS

The function of the hourglass is to mark the passing of time, as sand trickles through the narrow waist in the middle of the transparent glass container that is the same shape as a figure of eight.

Therefore, it is often used as a motif to show the inevitability of death.

However, the shape of the hourglass, as well as being a visual symbol and a word used to describe the figure of a shapely woman, is a lemniscate, or infinity sign.

That the hourglass can be turned upside down to start the cycle all over again makes it an optimistic symbol of rebirth.

PHURBA

This is a sacred knife, used only in ritual practices by Tibetan Buddhists.

Like the Athame of the Western tradition, it is employed to create the sacred spaces that are used for rites and ceremonies.

Its design is based on a stake used in ancient times to tether sacrificial animals, and it is used to describe a magic circle in the same way as a compass.

Can only be owned or handled by initiates.

THYRSUS

The thyrsus was a sacred implement used in rituals and festivals during the time of the Ancient Greeks.

It was a staff, standing about as high as its owner, made from a giant fennel stalk topped with a pine cone and wrapped with vine leaves.

As a phallic symbol, it was combined with a goblet or chalice, symbolic of female energy and used to counterbalance the staff.

As well as being a symbol of male energy, though, staffs or long poles of some description have a universal use as a sacred instrument to connect the Heavens to the Earth, a conductor for the divine spirit.

Source ⚜ More: On Symbols ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[niteshade925]

April 13, Xi'an, China, Shaanxi Archaeology Museum/陕西考古博物馆 (Part 4 - Sui and Tang dynasties):

This is another star of the museum, a Tang dynasty (618 - 907 AD) bronze mirror, the back of which is decorated with carved luodian/螺钿 (mother of pearl). Near the edge are various birds, while the inner ring is arranged in a "sunflower" shape. Kinda wish I can see a modern replica of this one without all these marks and discolorations from the passage of time:

A Tang dynasty yupei/玉佩 (jade pendant). Unlike the Western Zhou dynasty yupei in part 2, this type is most definitely supposed to be hung from the waist. This one in particular was one of a set of two (both worn on waist, one on each side), and these were part of the formal wear of first to fifth rank officials during Tang dynasty:

Luo Wanshun's Epitaph/罗婉顺墓志. As mentioned in the first Beilin museum post, ancient Chinese epitaphs have a two-piece structure, consisting of a tablet and the protective covering on top. This is the protective covering on top, with the large inscription identifying this as the epitaph stone of Luo Wanshun, engraved in seal script/zhuanshu/篆书:

And here's the actual body of the epitaph. This particular epitaph was drafted by one of the "Eight Immortals of the Wine Cup"/饮中八仙, Li Jin/李琎 (he was also the nephew of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang/唐玄宗), and the calligraphy was provided by the famous calligrapher Yan Zhenqing/颜真卿:

Tang-era pottery figurines of the Chinese zodiac animals. This set is sadly incomplete, but the way these zodiac animals are partially anthropomorphized is pretty interesting. From left to right, these are tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, sheep, and dog (yep that is a dog head, apparently). Not sure why rabbit and dog figurines are missing their ears though, maybe the ears broke off and are lost?

Sui dynasty (581 - 618 AD) green-glazed boshanlu/博山炉 incense burner. Note the panlong/蟠龙 dragon curled around the base:

Left: Sui dynasty white-glazed ewer with a chicken head-shaped handle. Right: Sui dynasty white-glazed vase. The curves on this one is *chef kiss*

More Sui dynasty white glazed pottery, but the most incredible thing is the white porcelain cup in the middle. The lip of that cup is 1mm (~1/32 in) thick, and the sides are so thin, it's almost see through:

Tang-era sancai/三彩 glazed conjoined flasks that is shaped like a pair of fish. Similar twin-fish motif can be found in numerous traditional Chinese holiday decor, and symbolize auspiciousness, wealth, and surplus--especially surplus, since fish in Chinese (鱼) is pronounced yú, and "surplus" in Chinese (余) is also pronounced yú. This is why the phrase 年年有余 ("may there be a surplus every year") is often paired up with imagery of carps, children holding giant carps, or a twin-fish motif.

Absolutely beautiful Tang-era wall mural of a tiger, which was very sadly damaged over time. But from the pieces left, you can still appreciate the raw power of the tiger captured by these lines:

Another beautiful Tang-era wall mural depicting men on horseback playing "polo", called maqiu/马球 (lit. "horse ball") in Chinese. It's unclear whether the maqiu depicted here originated in China in late Eastern Han dynasty (25 - 220 AD) or was brought to China via the Silk Road at the beginning of Tang dynasty, but anyway this sport was very popular during Tang dynasty, and there were many female players at the time too.

The women of Tang dynasty as depicted by pottery figurines:

A small model of Tang-era triple que/阙 gate towers. Que gate towers first appeared in Western Zhou dynasty (1046 - 771 BC) and have been a part of Chinese architecture ever since. Que gate towers usually come in pairs, one on each side of the gate, and they were used to display status.

A map of Tang dynasty Chang'an city laid on top of the current map of Xi'an city, showing the imperial palace (top center), the East Market/东市 and West Market/西市, and the 108 districts (called fang/坊):

A Tang-era chiwen/鸱吻 (螭吻 is the original name, 鸱吻 is the alternative name, another alternative name is 蚩吻, but the pronunciation remains the same for all three) roof ornament. These are the pairs of horn-shaped pieces on the top of the roof of traditional Chinese architecture. These ornaments are made to represent the Ninth Son of the Dragon, called Chiwen/螭吻, which looks like a dragon-headed fish and has the power to control water, thus it's used in traditional Chinese architecture to ward off fires:

Sui-era gold gilded handle of a stone sarcophagus:

A pottery jar found buried in the tomb of Crown Prince Jiemin/节愍太子 (Li Chongjun/李重俊, son of Emperor Zhongzong of Tang/唐中宗 Li Xian/李显), partially shaped like a pagoda and decorated with various Buddhist motifs such as lotus petals and elephant heads. This is speculated to be a representation of a granary, which would hold grains for the crown prince in the afterlife:

And last but not least, a Sui-era pottery camel bearing sacks that have the imagery of the Greek god of wine Dionysus upon them, which shows the great amount of cultural exchange that took place back then: