#Mandalas Made from Nature

[youremyheaven]

Mrigashira: The Price of Speaking The Truth

I have been studying the themes and patterns of Mrigashira nakshatra for a while and I thought it's time I made a post about the same.

The myth associated with Mrigashira involves Daksha, the son of Brahma. Daksha organized a grand Yajna (a ritual) but intentionally avoided inviting his daughter Sati’s husband, Shiva, whom he despised. Sati went to the ritual without Shiva’s consent, where Daksha insulted her and Shiva. Sati couldn’t bear the humiliation and jumped into the sacrificial fire. Upon learning of Sati’s death, Shiva became furious and destroyed Daksha’s yajna. Yagya, the presiding sage, turned into a deer and ran away, but Shiva caught up and killed him. His head became the Mrigashira nakshatra, which symbolizes sacrifice. (there are multiple myths associated with each nakshatra and another myth about Mrigashira involves Rohini, Brahma's favourite daughter leaving heaven to escape Brahma's incestual interest in her and taking the form of a deer on earth)

From this myth, we know that making a sacrifice for doing the right thing is a theme in the lives of these natives (Yagya was only overseeing the ceremony, he did nothing wrong, he never insulted Shiva, he was just doing his job). Another prominent theme is escaping someone's wrath or escaping to seek safety.

The yoni animal of Mrigashira is a serpent.

Serpents feature prominently in many mythologies and are commonly associated with renewal and transformation.

The ouroboros represented in this picture is a serpent eating its own tail. Carl Jung, saw this as a basic mandala of alchemy and said:

"The alchemists, who in their own way knew more about the nature of the individuation process than we moderns do, expressed this paradox through the symbol of the Ouroboros, the snake that eats its own tail. The Ouroboros has been said to have a meaning of infinity or wholeness. In the age-old image of the Ouroboros lies the thought of devouring oneself and turning oneself into a circulatory process, for it was clear to the more astute alchemists that the prima materia of the art was the man himself. The Ouroboros is a dramatic symbol of the integration and assimilation of the opposite, i.e. of the shadow. This 'feedback' process is at the same time a symbol of immortality since it is said of the Ouroboros that he slays himself and brings himself to life, fertilizes himself, and gives birth to himself. He symbolizes the One, who proceeds from the clash of opposites, and he, therefore, constitutes the secret of the prima materia which unquestionably stems from man's unconscious."

It speaks of human nature and how we must consume the opposites within ourselves to integrate into one whole being. Every nakshatra serves a cosmic purpose. Each nakshatra is a journey forward, its every step in the process of discovery. If you look at the standard descriptions of some naks, some are explicitly negative and others are overwhelmingly positive, while this is a simplistic understanding of nakshatras, it does point to how to retain balance in this universe, we need all kinds of energies, light and dark, good and bad, but every nakshatra contains within themselves these opposites, like the yin & yang symbol which shows a balance between two opposites with a portion of the opposite element in each section.

In Taoism, distinctions between good and bad, along with other dichotomous moral judgments, are perceptual, not real; so, the duality of yin and yang is an indivisible whole.

The serpent then can be seen as a representation of the eternal truth of reality, that all is one.

Truth telling is the purpose of the serpent in mythology and this is universally true across mythologies from different parts of the world.

This also seems to be innately tied to the nature of Mrigashira natives who speak their truth or make sacrifices to expose the truth. A simpler manifestation is how blunt and straightforward these natives can be.

Edward Snowden- Mrigashira Stellium in 1h (Sun, Mars & Rahu)

In 2013, Snowden revealed evidence of a shocking global surveillance programme run by the USA’s National Security Agency (NSA) and the UK’s Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ) which have been monitoring the internet and phone activity of hundreds of millions of people across the world.

The Internet itself was allowed to spread at a magnanimous pace and reach people all over the globe because it serves the interests of people in positions of power by allowing them to track and monitor us, inundate us into a permanent state of distraction with ads and useless content, that fill the pockets of the already rich. It wasn't some lucky happenstance incident, the internet exists for a very malicious reason and if you read about reports from the 90s when the internet was still at a nascent stage you would know that many people called out this bs. In an occult sense, the internet is an all-pervading manifestation of Maya or illusion. It wraps itself into our reality and there's no escaping it, it becomes harder and harder to see the truth and most people are so completely immersed in this illusion, believing it to be real.

Like the serpent that lured Eve out of paradise, a Mrigashira native, Snowden became the harbinger of an era where we now know that companies including Facebook, Google and Microsoft were forced to hand over customer data under secret orders from the NSA. And that the NSA recorded, stored and analysed ‘metadata’ relating to every single telephone call and text message transmitted in Mexico, Kenya and the Philippines.

Several major companies including Apple, Google and WhatsApp have improved the default security and encryption provided to users. Greater consumer pressure has pushed the industry to strengthen its approach to protecting users’ privacy.

We know how algorithms work, we know that our user data is being tracked, we know why we see targeted ads. We know that most content out there is an ad in disguise. Still, we have no real choice in the matter (except maybe clicking the "reject all cookies" button lol), we're forced to stay in a state where despite knowing that something is deeply wrong with society we still have to participate in it. This is Rohini, who had to stay with her father Brahma in the celestial heavens even though he made incestual advances towards her.

In Mrigashira, the truth dawns on you and you have no choice but to act. The reason Rohini ruled by the Moon is connected to manipulation is because these natives cannot exit their unideal situations safely, they are forced to stay and to survive, they must manipulate their reality. Their freedom is curbed. Even if irl, there are no restraints, these natives feel restrained within, so leaving isn't an option for them, they stay and make things worse to cope or in hopes of changing things.

Mrigashira is Mars ruled and is the first Mars ruled nakshatra. Mars is all about taking action and marching forward. The truth can set you free only if you let it and Mrigashira natives deeply understand this. They are determined to remove themselves from these circumstances and stand in their truth. It may not always be literal but this pattern of setting boundaries, establishing a distance between what is "false" and what is "true" is deeply tied to the nature of Mrigashira.

Snowden sought asylum in Russia where he lives to this day. Being in exile or having to escape your home is also Mrigashira coded simply because the home is a toxic/unsafe/unhealthy place for the Mrigashira native to be. I have talked about it before but Mrigashira is connected to the story of Rapunzel.

Naomi Klein, Mrigashira Moon is an author, social activist, and filmmaker known for her political analyses; support of ecofeminism, organized labour, and leftism; and criticism of corporate globalization, fascism, ecofascism and capitalism.

Her book No Logo which came out in 1999 is a landmark book that exposes the evils of corporate globalization and franchises and how the Global South are being exploited to fatten the pockets of companies in the Global North. It greatly expanded the growing anti-capitalist consciousness and anti-corporate activism in the decades since. Here's a video where she explains her research. Its chilling to think this was made over 2 decades ago considering how all these things still persist in society and now hurt people more than ever.

Honestly, all her books are amazing exposé work and that's on her Mrigashira Moon.

Louis Pasteur- Mrigashira Moon

He was a French chemist, pharmacist and microbiologist renowned for his discoveries of the principles of vaccination, microbial fermentation, and pasteurization (named after him). His research in chemistry led to remarkable breakthroughs in the understanding of the causes and prevention of diseases, which laid down the foundations of hygiene, public health and much of modern medicine. Pasteur's works are credited with saving millions of lives through the development of vaccines for rabies and anthrax. 

He was a very controversial figure in his lifetime who was known for deceiving people.

This article explains it well. Here's an excerpt from the article:

"His most famous experiment was on a young boy, Joseph Meister, who had been bitten by a rabid dog and was doomed to death, and whose mother pleaded with Pasteur to treat him. Pasteur reported that he had previously used his rabies vaccine on 50 dogs without a single failure.

Again, the laboratory notebooks show that this account was misleading. Pasteur had tested a vaccine on dogs, but it was prepared by a completely different method than the one he used for the vaccine given to Meister, and he had no conclusive animal results to show that the vaccine worked. But he had guessed right."

Pasteur often lied to get his way and used "deception" to advance his practice. It is ethically questionable for sure but the work he did has helped millions of people and one could say it was all for the greater good.

He disproved the then prevailing notion of spontaneous generation (it was believed that any exposure to air anywhere causes the generation of living organisms) through his experiments and was initially disbelieved and ridiculed until his experiments began to be accepted as true and was recognised by the scientific community.

Mrigashira natives often have a tendency to gauge things or call people out on things even when that thing/person is widely accepted. The native may get flak for it and be shunned for it but eventually their ideas become widely accepted and everyone sees the truth. They may or may not get credit for this. They see the truth before others do.

Aldous Huxley- Mrigashira Rising

He was an author and philosopher who is best known for his novel Brave New World although he has written over 50 books. Brave New World (the title itself is very Mrigashira core, don't you think?)

The idea that government control is dehumanizing is the overarching theme. In Brave New World the government controls every aspect of the citizens' lives. They are created and born in a government lab. They are raised in a government facility while learning society's values.

It was published in 1932 and lets just say that the audience wasn't ready for such an alarming dystopian tale.

A notable critic of Brave New World was the author H.G. Wells, whose 1923 novel Men Like Gods (a book about a man who visits a utopian world and then returns to earth) had been an inspiration of sorts to Huxley, who told a friend in 1931 that he was writing a novel about the “the horror of the Wellsian Utopia and a revolt against it.” Wells said, “A writer of the standing of Aldous Huxley has no right to betray the future as he did in that book.”

H.G Wells was known for his utopian visions that permeated nearly all of his published work. Interestingly, he was a Shravana Rising. The thing is, Wells never used these utopian visions to criticize the reality of the world we live in, it was more of a "look how good things could be ughhh". This once again reflects Moon's nature which is idealistic but not practical or rooted in confronting situations as they are, if you ask them for a solution to the war, they'll say "if only everyone could get along and we could all stop killing each other" instead of saying "the power imbalance between nations is alarming, they create crises in other nations, put puppet governments in place, exploit them for their own benefits and when it no longer serves their interests, leaves the people to deal with the mess themselves". The former is a more emotional response but it also comes down to Lunar nature believing things are that simple, that if everybody could get along, then everything would be okay. its basically not a solution but a nice thought. I have made posts in the past about Moon dominance and manipulation but what i had failed to mention is that the reason Moon dominants resort to manipulation is because they lack the ability to think in concrete, tangible, practical terms since Moon is tied to the emotional mind which is incapable of rationality or logic. They have to manipulate because they do not know how to think critically. Being guided by your emotions is not reliable or healthy which is why Moon dominance often results in toxicity and manipulation as they are emotionally reacting to what is said instead of responding with their mind or logic.

Wells himself later said about his novel Men Like Gods, "It did not horrify or frighten, was not much of a success, and by that time, I had tired of talking in playful parables to a world engaged in destroying itself."

Do you notice how passive his tone is? He speaks as though he is not part of this world and that all he can do is merely observe its self-destruction (if not writing "playful parables" to it lol??). He thought his book was a flop because it did not "horrify" or "frighten" people (implying that, thats what sells) when the reality is that its more effective to read about the horrors prevailing our society that we are ignorant of instead of reading 300 pages about a perfect alternate reality where everything is wonderful. one calls to action, another encourages passive daydreaming. This further differentiates the nature of Mrigashira vs Moon dominant natives (Mrigashira follows Rohini's fall from heaven or realising the truth).

"There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception"- Aldous Huxley, Mrigashira Rising

George Carlin, Moon (conjunct Ketu) in Mrigashira

Here's an excerpt of something he said that has stuck with me and exemplifies the truth telling nature of Mrigashira.

"But there’s a reason. There’s a reason. There’s a reason for this, there’s a reason education SUCKS, and it’s the same reason that it will never, ever, ever be fixed. It’s never gonna get any better. Don’t look for it. Be happy with what you got. Because the owners of this country don't want that. I'm talking about the real owners now, the real owners, the big wealthy business interests that control things and make all the important decisions. Forget the politicians. The politicians are put there to give you the idea that you have freedom of choice. You don't. You have no choice. You have owners. They own you. They own everything. They own all the important land. They own and control the corporations. They’ve long since bought and paid for the senate, the congress, the state houses, the city halls, they got the judges in their back pockets and they own all the big media companies so they control just about all of the news and information you get to hear. They got you by the balls. They spend billions of dollars every year lobbying, lobbying, to get what they want. Well, we know what they want. They want more for themselves and less for everybody else, but I'll tell you what they don’t want: They don’t want a population of citizens capable of critical thinking. They don’t want well informed, well educated people capable of critical thinking. They’re not interested in that. That doesn’t help them. Thats against their interests. Thats right.

They don’t want people who are smart enough to sit around a kitchen table to figure out how badly they’re getting fucked by a system that threw them overboard 30 fucking years ago. They don’t want that. You know what they want? They want obedient workers. Obedient workers. People who are just smart enough to run the machines and do the paperwork, and just dumb enough to passively accept all these increasingly shittier jobs with the lower pay, the longer hours, the reduced benefits, the end of overtime and the vanishing pension that disappears the minute you go to collect it, and now they’re coming for your Social Security money. They want your retirement money. They want it back so they can give it to their criminal friends on Wall Street, and you know something? They’ll get it. They’ll get it all from you, sooner or later, 'cause they own this fucking place. It's a big club, and you ain’t in it. You and I are not in the big club.

And by the way, it's the same big club they use to beat you over the head with all day long when they tell you what to believe. All day long beating you over the head in their media telling you what to believe, what to think and what to buy. The table is tilted folks. The game is rigged, and nobody seems to notice, nobody seems to care. Good honest hard-working people -- white collar, blue collar, it doesn’t matter what color shirt you have on -- good honest hard-working people continue -- these are people of modest means -- continue to elect these rich cocksuckers who don’t give a fuck about them. They don’t give a fuck about you. They don’t give a fuck about you. They don't care about you at all -- at all -- at all. And nobody seems to notice, nobody seems to care. That's what the owners count on; the fact that Americans will probably remain willfully ignorant of the big red, white and blue dick that's being jammed up their assholes everyday. Because the owners of this country know the truth: it's called the American Dream, because you have to be asleep to believe it."

Mrigashira natives are the most likely to be critical of society, modern living, capitalism etc among other things. They see through to the truth of things and thus feel dissatisfied and disappointed with the world. There is a reason they say "ignorance is bliss", those whose eyes are veiled, can tune out of all this cacophony of living and pretend everything is fine. Mrigashira natives have to live with the weight of knowing.

Jules Verne- Mrigashira Rising

He is widely regarded as the father of science fiction and his works have inspired a generation of scientists like the pioneering submarine designer Simon Lake, Igor Sikorsky who often quoted Verne and cited his Robur the Conqueror as the inspiration for his invention of the first successful helicopter, the rocketry innovators Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, Robert Goddard, and Hermann Oberth are all known to have taken their inspiration from Verne's From the Earth to the Moon.

Edwin Hubble, the American astronomer, was in his youth fascinated by Verne's novels, especially From the Earth to the Moon and Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Their influence was so strong that, like Verne, Hubble gave up the career path in law that his father intended for him, setting off instead to pursue his passion for science.

Jules Verne lived in the 19th century (he passed away in 1905, aged 77) but he described technologies that would later be invented (some were directly inspired by what he had written). He had prophetic vision some would say he had described submarines, helicopters, the moon landing, holograms, newscasts, space travel, video conferencing,

“In the Year 2889, instead of being printed, the Earth Chronicle is every morning spoken to subscribers, who, from interesting conversations with reporters, statesmen and scientists, learn the news of the day,”

He even made political observations that have since materialised,

In one of his later works, called The Purchase of the North Pole, an auction is held for rights to the North Pole. The mysterious buyer who wins out over a number of national governments is a private company with a plan to fire off a giant cannon will jolt the planet and change the tilt of Earth’s axis, adjust the length of the days and climates around the earth, and melt the polar ice caps. With the Arctic melted, the execs planned to mine the north pole for coal and make a fortune. This is more or less what is currently happening lol

He invented a new genre to talk about things that did not yet exist. This is tied to Mrigashira's quest for truth and imagining possibilities.

Kanye West, Mrigashira Sun

Do I think Kanye is problematic? Extremely. Do I think he's also telling the truth on some occasions especially when he's trying to expose Hollywood or the system? Yes, I do

This is a bit of a tangent but we have seen time and time again how mental illness has been weaponized against people (ex: Britney Spears) to control them (Mariah Carey also speaks about it in her memoir), I do think a great number of celebrities are victims of this because their management/people in their lives benefit from exploiting them (would it not be vvv scary knowing that your career is what pays the bills of a whole crew of people? they depend on you to live? what if they're greedy or evil? what happens to you then?) so I wholeheartedly believe Kanye when he says "people are trying to conspire against him for telling the truth" (look at how many whistleblowers have been killed and had their deaths written off as suicides).

Sometimes I wonder if he's deliberately ruining his public image so that he just comes across as a crazy guy saying crazy shit that no one takes seriously. This is a safe option for him because if he appeared to be a normal sober serious guy exposing the system he might get killed. Deception is also a huge part of Mrigashira's truth telling.

Who can forget him exposing Taylor on that phone call? lol

Anyway, I want to make it clear that I don't condone or endorse any of Kanye's politics or most of the vile hateful garbage he spews.

Amy Winehouse-Mrigashira Rising

Amy was known for how candid and straightforward she was. If you listen to this song, you can tell how frank and honest the lyrics are?? (its about women who try to score rich men). Amy was always so real and unapologetically herself.

Pamela Anderson, Mrigashira Rising

She's such an icon and such a dignified woman after everything she's been through. She came forward to speak her truth and take control of her narrative. Unfortunately not many women in her position can or will do this. She empowers sooo many others by standing up for herself and speaking her truth.

Mia Khalifa, Ketu in Mrigashira (a lot of people ask me why I include placements other than the big 3 and the reason I use Ketu specifically is because it is a karmic planet and Ketu's position in the birth chart is thought to indicate ties to previous lifetimes. It represents life experiences and knowledge that people may carry from past incarnations. Yes, I am aware that Ketu is a generational planet and people born across the same year have the same Ketu placement but the reason why Ketu placement is significant especially in the charts of accomplished people is because they are channelling the collective unconscious and I believe that in order to receive recognition for the work you do, you have to skilfully channel your Ketu as it represents your latent creativity and potential that connects you to the whole)

whew went off on a tangent 🤪(me with everything i post lmao)

Mia Khalifa has come forward exposing the porn industry and calling out its predatory nature and has candidly spoken about how she was "intimidated" into doing her infamous hijab scene and that her toxic ex husband encouraged her to pursue porn. I hope Mia heals from everything but she's sooo brave for calling out people/society/porn industry on their toxicity, misogyny, double standards when the same men who fap to her porn are the ones calling her a whore (she made a mistake when she was 20 and has been out of the business for 10 years at this point, at what point will we let her move on with her life and shed this image for good?)

Nicole Kidman- Mrigashira Sun

who can forget this iconic interview when Nicole exposed the truth behind her meeting with Jimmy lol, he was so sh00k

She starred in the 2003 movie Dogville where she plays the daughter of a mob boss who runs away because she cannot stand the stuff they do (running away because they can't accept the circumstance they are in is a prominent Mrigashira theme). Its an arthouse film about the nature of evil and it shows how after Nicole's character has run away to Dogville, she has to provide labor for the community in order to be allowed to stay (Mrigashira natives making a "sacrifice") and ultimately towards the end after enduring a lot of abuse, Nicole's character destroys the whole place.

Jim Carrey- Mrigashira Moon

He is hella problematic for sure but he has this existential side to him where he is always dropping truthbombs. Remember this iconic video where he says NYFW is meaningless lmfao

Parveen Babi, Mrigashira Moon

Parveen Babi was a Bollywood superstar in the 70s and 80s. In 1977, she started dating the filmmaker Mahesh Bhatt (he has a reputation for being vile, crass asshole) and he insisted that she go to a psychiatrist following which she was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. I cannot comment on whether or not Miss Babi was misdiagnosed but what is apparent is that her relationship with Bhatt took a severe toll on her mental health, there are tons of people who've said he's kind of a psychopath, so I don't doubt that he may have gaslit and abused Babi to a point where she may have lost her sanity. For the rest of her career she struggled with episodes of debilitating paranoia, delusion and violent aggression. She once even blamed Amitabh Bachchan (the biggest star in India) for being her biggest adversary and claimed that he was trying to kill her (I know this sounds delusional but we do not know what kind of relationship they had with each other or what might have led her to believe that she was in potential danger, its cruel to dismiss everything someone says as "oh but she's mentally ill").

Babi quit acting and was a recluse in her later years. She died alone in her apartment when she was 51 and her body was only found 3 days later. Mahesh Bhatt helped organise her funereal when nobody else stepped forward to even claim her body at the hospital. Her life is a tragedy and a cautionary tale.

Mrigashiras are doubtful of absolutely everything. They do not trust people easy AT ALL. They question absolutely everybody's motive and whilst this can create thought provoking and interesting art and make a person inquisitive, honest etc, it can also be exhausting and draining to constantly be on guard and watch your own back.

“Slowly, one by one, I lost trust in everybody and everything around me,” Babi wrote. “Have you ever wondered what it is like to function in life, distrusting everything and everybody? We trust most of the things and people around us without questioning. We trust the food we eat, the water we drink, the air we breathe...It is impossible to function in life without trusting. And that is precisely what happened to me.”- Parveen Babi

Mrigashira natives are prone to paranoia and feeling unsafe (this ties back to their mythology) and I truly feel for them :(((

Oppenheimer- Mrigashira Rising

Oppenheimer’s infamous meeting with Truman took place in October 1945. It did not go well: Oppenheimer failed to convince the president of the need for international control of atomic energy, while Truman confidently stated the Soviets would never get the bomb. Getting nowhere, Oppenheimer really did confess his guilt over the Manhattan Project, which turned Truman’s stomach.

Oppenheimer's morality is dubious and questionable etc etc but it is known and clear that he felt guilty for the role he played and the destruction that was caused as a direct result of his research. He stood up for what was true, although unsuccessfully.

Khloe Kardashian-Mrigashira Moon

Khloe has always been praised for being "real" and honest. She has opened up about a lot of different things and had this to say about having a baby via surrogacy:

“But a surrogate process – Kim knows – is very hard for me. It’s a mindf***. It is really the weirdest thing,” she bravely shares about her nine-month-old cherub, Tatum. “I do feel less connected. People do say it takes a minute to feel connected but Kim said hers was easy. This is not easy. I definitely was in a state of shock from my entire experience in general,” she said. “I felt really guilty that this woman just had my baby and I take the baby and go to another room and you are separated. It felt like such a transactional experience because it is not about him. I wish someone was honest about surrogacy and the difference of it. But it doesn’t mean it is bad or good. It is just very different.”

Compared to the kind of stuff that all the other Kardash-Jenners say this is a rare and sincere moment of truth telling.

John Cena Mrigashira Moon and Rising

He is known for his honest, humble and sincere personality.

In an interview about the Meltzer rating system, Cena honestly said:

“So how do I put this… I am much more concerned when I perform for WWE in how the audience as a whole feels about my performance rather than one individual trying to grade me in a level of stars. Not that it doesn’t matter, because that is a great way for those to try and get equity and try to get noticed. It’s a great ranking system and I do appreciate it. I’m not knocking critics. I’m just saying my process is to make sure that everyone who paid a ticket had a great night. And if that gets me a zero star match, I still know in my heart of hearts that I entertained my audience that night.”

if you type in John Cena honesty into google so many articles pop up lol, i guess thats a great thing to be known for. Zero bullshit that's Mrigashira for you

I hope this post was interesting and informativexx

thanks for reading<3

[megyulmi]

➠ Chapter 257 and Rebirth:

This chapter officially introduced the concept of Rebirth (환생, in which the actions of a sentient being lead to a new existence after death) into the plot of the manga. We can say it has been hinted at before through Jogo and Yuuji’s words for example, but the Rebirth of the soul of Sukuna’s twin officially confirmed it. We do not know the conditions of Rebirth in the world of JJK yet, but it implies the existence of Samsāra (윤회전생) which is the endless cycle of birth, death and rebirth, and it made me think of this illustration:

This illustration is based on the Kalachakra Mandala, which represents the wheel of our lives, and the time we have in this world to make peace with ourselves and achieve Enlightement (freedom from Samsāra). Kalachakra literally translates to ‘cycle of time’ (Kala meaning ‘time’ and Chakra meaning ‘cycle’). It means that everything in nature happens in the ‘cycle of time’.

These four characters being the centre of the above-indicated illustration is not random. Each one of them is in some way bound by the concept of Rebirth (Reincarnation). Chapter 257 gave us a good perspective on how Yuuji, Sukuna and Kenjaku are bound to it (and each other as well), which, considering the ties of the other three, may make it seem like Gojo is out of the equation.

Personally, there could be two interpretations of why Gojo is part of it (besides the simplest explanation that these four are central to the storyline):

1. As Tengen has implied themself before, Tengen, the Star Plasma Vessel, and the Six Eyes are all connected by fate. Through Tengen, we also learn that Kenjaku lost twice to a sorcerer with the Six Eyes, and after the second time taking no chances killed both the Star Plasma Vessel and the Six Eyes less than a month after they were born. We know that there has been a connection between Tengen, Kenjaku and the Six Eyes throughout time. Gojo could be part of the illustration to indicate the recurring existence of the Six Eyes, bound to Tengen’s existence whose relationship with Kenjaku we do not clearly understand yet, but has been as continuous.

Or

2. Drawing on the confirmation that the concept of Rebirth exists in the world of JJK, Gojo being part of this illustration could imply that perhaps the soul of Sukuna’s twin is not the only character who has been Reborn (note: we do not know yet whether Itadori Jin was his twin’s first reincarnation or he died and was reborn multiple times before (however, the way Sukuna says it implies the latter)). We do not know yet what the conditions for Rebirth are (or if they are the same as in Buddhism) or whether the Reborn soul retains anything of their past life, so it is difficult to make the assumption, but it opens up the possibility of Gojo being reincarnation as well, i.e. the Six Eyes are the same soul.

Regardless, the existence of the concept of Rebirth has opened many different (and interesting) possibilities.

Edit: additional note

[garroth-is-done]

Thinking about shadow knights again:

I love the concept that sks aren’t even vaguely human looking in their true form. And I don’t mean this in a “they are animals/creatures” way or in a “they’re just Minecraft nether mobs” way, but in a “they look like analogue horror monsters and actually behave like them too” way.

Ya know, the stretched out limbs, smiles too wide to be natural, claw-like fingers, horrific death rattle breathing sounds; the absolute works of analogue horror. Even in human form the look kinda off too; their eyes are open a bit too wide, their teeth just a bit too sharp.

Behavior wise, if you piss them off bad enough they start to work like the alternates from the mandala catalog. They take the form of someone the person who made them angry loves and they hunt them down in their own home. They leave gory messes behind, not even bothering to try and cover up what they did. You know someone was killed by an sk by the fact that they’re nothing more than a blood splatter on the floor, crushed bones and a bit of gray matter all that is left of them.

Idk, just shadow knights being absolutely terrifying horror monsters instead of just a bunch of knights in red and black armor like some 12 year olds edge deviantart oc

[talonabraxas]

“Colour is the soul of Nature and of the entire cosmos...” — Rudolf Steiner

Colors Meditation, Aura, and Healing Levels

The Meditation/Dream level helps you to understand a color or a colored object seen in a dream or meditation.

The Aura level helps you to understand the purpose of that color within the human energy field.

The Healing level is the way the color works when applied to healing the body or spirit.

WHITE

Meditation/

Dream: Truth of the highest order. Enlightenment. Energy in its most pure form. Divinity.

Aura: Never a predominate color in the aura unless you are looking at an angel or an ascended master. However a white layer in the aura or a layer with white streaks indicates a person following the will of God and being directed by it.

Healing: Charging the energy field, bringing peace and comfort, divine light or whole white light entering.

VIOLET

Meditation/

Dream: Conjures feelings of enchantment, wishes fulfilled, of dreams made fact. Transformation of the self or of some aspect of your life into a higher form. Connecting to your higher self. The "I am God" presence.

Aura: This color in the aura is the highest vibration for the human spirit. A person who is in command of his life and energy. A visionary. Violet with a gold outline is a person who is one with spirit and God and is in service to mankind.

Healing: Connecting to spirit, the opening of the third eye, the clearing of the head, purging the auric field of distortions.

BLUE

Meditation/

Dream: Blue is the energy of pacification, self protection, sweetness and tenderness, and of loyalty. It represents contentment and reunion with the Earth.

Aura: Blue in the aura represents a teacher or a very sensitive person. They are kind and caring and will do much to help others grow.

Healing: Cooling, calming, restructuring of the etheric level, taking away pain when doing deep tissue work and work on bone cells. Blue also helps to expand a person's field to connect to his/her life task.

GREEN

Meditation/

Dream: Taken most directly from nature, these hues often are expressive of constancy, self-affirmation, security, self-esteem, and of deeply rooted pride. A healing meditation may contain green, as it is the color of new growth.

Aura: Green in the aura signals a very intellectual person who may possess healing gifts. At the very least it signals a nurturer personality and one that will do what they can to make another comfortable.

Healing: Charging the heart chakra, balancing the aura, general healing, sometimes charging the aura to ensure well being and health, and to remove illness.

YELLOW

Meditation/

Dream: Representative of cheerfulness, radiance, relaxation and release from burdens. It is warmth of sunlight, the halo around the Holy Grail. Yellow is hope.

Aura: Yellow, like green also signals a very intellectual person, but this person does not possess healing gifts. They are powerful thinkers, and idea makers.

Healing: Charging the brow chakra, clearing a foggy head.

ORANGE

Meditation/

Dream: Symbolic of fire, of expanding energy, power and the omnipotence of the sun and the majesty of sunsets. Energy to accomplish ones goals.

Aura: A very ambitions person who needs to succeed and has the energy to do so.

Healing: Charging the auric field, increasing sexual potency, increasing the immunity system.

ROSE

Meditation/

Dream: In meditation or dreams represents self-love, also resurrection. The color of flesh, of sensuality and emotion, romantic love, and supportive love.

Aura: A person in-love with another or in-love with one's created environment.

Healing: Subtle healing and love. This energy puts back a sense of self love and self worth.

RED

Meditation/

Dream: Red represents the will to achieve, energy, intensity, and struggle. It is also appetite, desire, and reproduction. It is life in the "now."

Aura: People with mostly red in their aura are fiery spontaneous people. They are often fearless, or appear that way. Red's make good police and firemen and soldiers. Red will also be found in the normal aura for brief periods during great anger or passion.

Healing: Super charging the auric field, burning out cancer, warming cold areas.

GOLD

Meditation/

Dream: Divinity transforming lower energy to upper energy. Spiritual power in all aspects operating for the greater good.

Aura: Gold in the aura is rarely a predominate color, however you can find it as an outline to another color, like violet. Gold as an outline in the aura adds the dimension of spiritual nobility and rank, a person that has and is achieving great spiritual progress and work.

Healing: The restructuring of the seventh layer of the aura (the God self).

GRAY

Meditation/

Dream: Grey in a dream or meditation signals excessive energy being burnt off. it is also a lifting of intense fear or some life-threatening situation.

Aura: A person who's life-force is leaking away due to unhappiness, sadness, depression, or illness. With the color black a person with advanced cancer.

Healing: Only used during a healing when excessive energy must be removed because the person can't handle it.

BLACK

Meditation/

Dream: In the shinny black variety it is a closing in of energy and resource to protect ones self. The velvet or shinny black is not a negative color to get in a meditation, especially if you are feeling burnt out. A velvet black light opens up the Aura so that it can accept higher colors.

Aura: A dull lifeless black in the aura shows a person who is very far removed from the constructive forces of the universe. With the grey streaks, it shows a person being destroyed by his or her own separation from God.

Note: Wearing black is very common and it opens up the human aura to all the other colors. Many students of the occult like to wear black for this reason. Wearing black also protects your energy from leaking out to others.

Healing: The velvet black color is used to bring a patient into the state of grace, silence, and peace with God.

SILVER

Meditation/

Dream: Silver relates to the moon, the subconscious, and the female aspect of the universe.

Aura: Not a color usually present in the aura in any great quantity.

Healing: Used to purge the auric field and to charge the sixth level of being (karmic level), to remove old karma that is no longer needed.

INDIGO

Meditation/

Dream: Purple or indigo in a dream or meditation signals some kind of psychic power or ability or some kind of psychic force.

Aura: In the aura shows a very intuitive person, a person with prepackaged abilities that come from before birth to be used physically in this incarnation. These people tend to be square pegs as far as society and fitting in is concerned. This will change as more of the current generation is born with this color and takes its place in society.

Healing: The opening up of intuition or of some psychic ability. It is also used to prepare the individual of the entering of the divine spirit.

CRYSTAL

Meditation/

Dream: Transformation into a new form or a higher energy state. Crystals amplify and a crystal light will amplify your own energy to a higher level.

Aura: A crystal aura around a person is clear but will have other colors intermingled with it. This is the 'chameleon' aura. People with this aura will take on the attitudes and ways of those around them. The aura of others becomes their own aura. It is important for these crystal people to only surround themselves with the best influences possible, for obvious reasons. A person with a crystal aura must learn how to separate themselves from everybody else.

Healing: Sometimes used to fill in an empty spot where some energy was removed, so that nothing unwanted takes it place, till the person's energy field can replace the vacuum with its own energy field.

[sister-hawk]

HEY LOOK AT WHAT I MADE!!! I whittled this elephant out of a block of basswood, and then painted it by hand, as a gift for my lovely girlfriend, @potsiefaerie 😘♥️💖🩵 When we were still getting to know each other, she mentioned that she collects white elephant figures with her mother (after they found one at a white elephant sale), and I was like, "Wait, I've done a bit of whittling before. Surely I could make one, right???" And then it became my mission all through the spring, summer, and fall. And after a bit of a mad dash to the end, I was finally able to give it to her the first time we met in person 🥰

While it was in no way easy, crafting this elephant was an absolute joy, and it really (re)awakened in me a love for the art of whittling. I had only done some very basic whittling before, close to a decade and a half ago. So with very little experience, none of which was recent, I really impressed myself with how well this thing turned out. And while I'm no stranger to painting, I've never done detail like this before. That is just natural talent babey. I have definitely found my calling in this craft.

It's roughly 2 and 3/4 inches tall, and probably around 4 and 1/2 inches long. I have absolutely no idea how many hours it took start-to-finish. But it was a lot lol.

Process:

The first step was to find reference images of elephants online, from various angles. I used those to create basic drawings of an elephant mid-stride from 5 different angles (left, right, top, front, and back). I printed and cut those out of paper to create a simple stencil to trace the shape onto the block of wood (that's what you see in the first image.

The second step was to actually cut the rough shape of it out of the wood with a coping saw. Then I divided the bottom (where the legs are) in half, and used the drawing as a guide for removing the halves of the legs that weren't needed (since it is not symmetrical in its stance.) That gave me an extremely rough and blocky elephant shape.

Next came the whittling, and that was by far the majority of the work. Months were spent slowly shaving away little bits of wood, occasionally glancing at my reference images, until finally the final shape was achieved. Then it was sanded down so as to smooth out the facets created by the carving process, and to refine the shape a little more.

I also must mention that I did drop it at one point on a cement porch and snap one of the legs off at the knee. But! A bit of wood glue and a rubber band fixed that fairly easily.

Then came the painting process. First I used a glaze to help seal the wood. Wood is a very absorbent material. I knew that, in order to ensure that this piece would last as long as possible, it needed to be sealed so that the wood did not absorb moisture from the air, which could eventually lead to cracking as it expanded and shrank. But paint itself also poses some risk in this way, and the wood really wants to soak it up. So the glaze ensured that that wouldn't happen.

Then I put down three coats of white paint (with another touch-up coat), and then sealed that with another coat of the glaze. This was to protect the white underneath when I started painting with the blue, so that if I messed it up, I would have the chance to remove the blue without totally stripping the white.

Next was the detail work with the blue paint. The designs were first drawn on using a 4h graphite in a mechanical pencil (4h is pretty hard, so it wouldn't leave much behind. That made it easier to erase mistakes and cover with the paint). I did reference a couple mandalas that I found online for the ones on the forehead and back, but all of it was painted by hand with an extremely tiny brush and an enormous amount of patience. It requires very steady hands.

And the final step was two part. First, another coat of glaze to protect the blue paint so that it would not get smeared (not after I did all that hard work!!!). And finally, four coats of varnish to completely seal everything off. My hope is this thing will still be sitting on someone's shelf at least a few generations from now, so I did everything I could to protect it as much as possible.

Materials and tools:

3x3x6in block of basswood, from some website idk lol.

Coping saw from Lowe's.

Whittling tools from Beaver Craft.

120, 220, and 400 grit sandpaper from Lowe's.

Glaze, paints, and varnish from Jo Sonja's.

[makapatag]

“Violence for violence’s sake is not the rule of beasts but the nature of divinity.” Gubat Banwa is a game of rapid kinetic martial arts, violent sorcery, heartrending convictions and bouts of will. Warriors that channel gods face sorcerers that master black arts, martial artists who have unlocked a new form of cultivation clash swords with those that perfect the night alchemies. When the crocodile’s teeth are cast, convictions are unsheathed, and steel sparks: the Umalagad must declare that: “The river of life ever flows! Rejoice in the glory of combat!” and they enter violence

SWORD AND ENLIGHTENMENT. LOVE AND GLORY. VIOLENCE AND LIBERATION. 

Gubat Banwa is a  Southeast Asian fantasy martial arts Role-Playing Game, inspired by the refulgent cultures of Southeast Asia. Raise your spears, KADUNGGANAN, you elite warrior-braves and asura-knights who travel The Sword Isles to prove their conviction and dictate the fate of the world. Revel in larger-than-life war drama like in Asian Dramas, ballistic tactical martial arts grid gameplay in the vein of Lancer or Final Fantasy Tactics, and find glory beyond heaven. Wield the Thunderbolt of Liberation! Rejoice! In the Glory of Combat!

Itch.io: https://makapatag.itch.io/gubat-banwa

DrivethruRPG: https://www.drivethrurpg.com/.../Gubat-Banwa-1e-Playtest

Gank: https://ganknow.com/services/18713-makapatag-gubat-banwa-1e

Included are!

A unique Southeast Asian-inspired Fantasy setting, with an emphasis on martial arts as a background for war drama and violence, from a Philippine-centric view. Garudas fight against unglu. Martial artist warriors master the Principle of Cutting by meditating upon the teachings of the Violent Bodhisattva. Rituals and superstitions must be performed or else risk the wrath of the ancestors. Vast kingdoms arise with God-Kings at their helm, claiming to be Shiva-Buddha incarnate. You and your warband stand at the center of this violent mandala!

A corresponding narrative system made to help play out war drama in this setting, along the veins of Final Fantasy Tactics, Hero, House of Flying Daggers, Malazan, Tigana, Game of Thrones, and Tactics Ogre!

Want to try out the Thundering Tactics Battle System that fuses modern narrative sensibilities with D&D4e style tactical combat and wargaming dice pools. The Turn Order is known as the Rhythm, and you don't activate a unit; you fulminate a fighter. The game heavily relies on terrain abilities and emphasizes movement, especially with it's 3-Beat System, which lets you do 3 Actions per turn (some actions might cost more than 1 Beat!)

A Discipline System inspired by Final Fantasy Tactics Jobs, Digital Devil Saga's Mantras, and Shin Megami Tensei Nocturne's Magatama. Mix and match your Techniques! Change Disciplines with a single Downtime Action! Be a Death Dancer that heals with alchemies, or a Tigpana (Spiritual Archer) that rides upon a crocodile! 

A narrative system wherein describing or doing dangerous and cool things is encouraged, as that is how you get Thunderbolt Tokens, which let you dictate your fate. This same narrative system prioritizes 5 Approaches instead of Abilities, in the vein of L5R, with each approach based off of the 5 Elements of Gubat Banwa's natural philosophies and esoteric tradition.

Said narrative system comes with a baked in Honor system that interplays with Debt, which is how you get others to do things for you. And NPCs can accrue this same debt, forcing you to follow them. If your Honor ever falls below 0, you must play a new Kadungganan!

An enemy system that allows for Solo and GM-less play! Roll an Enemy's Gambit Dice to find out what actions they do when they Fulminate. Adapt and act accordingly, make for dynamic fights!

Event tables and generators for every possible thing you might encounter while journeying in the Sword Isles, to fully immerse and play in its cultures! As well as Lore to fulfill any questions you might have.

Finally, baked in is the starter adventure: The Sword Devil. So you can jumpstart your games!

[x-heesy]

Jen Stark’s art is driven by her interest in conceptualizing visual systems to simulate plant growth, evolution, infinity, fractals, mimetic topographies, and sacred geometries. Using available materials—paper, wood, metal, paint—Stark strives to make work that balances on a razor’s edge of optical seduction and perceptual engagement. In recent years, Stark has introduced new technologies into her diverse practice, delving into the digital realm of interactive projections and distinctive NFTs.

The resulting works often resemble organic, molecular, cloud-like structures, and are imbued with kinetic, undulating effects that serve to dislocate the viewer from staid reality into an immersive ecosphere of echoing patterns and the implausible designs found in nature. Even her vivid colors are in direct conversation with the natural world; the attractant/repellent properties of flowers encouraging pollination or insects warning birds of their poisonous traits, and the luminous mystery of phosphorescent sea creatures are among Stark’s concerns.

Via these corporeal abstractions, spectators are led onto the astral plane; there’s a transcendence to Stark’s work where the vibrational phases become a sacrosanct and curative experience for the viewer. Traces of mandalas or nautili reveal themselves as sacred geometric forms in Stark’s spiritual reservoir.

Stark’s ability to create atmospheric, minimal, naturalist configurations that only reveal themselves after deep engagement align her with the artistic legacies of Yayoi Kusama, Sol Lewitt, Tara Donovan, Tom Friedman, Andy Goldsworthy, Ernst Haeckel, and the Finish Fetish artists of 1960s Los Angeles.

Not limited to the confines of museums and galleries, Stark’s diverse practice—a series of sculptural objects that rely on a commitment to process and hypnotic repetition; charismatic wall works; widely seen murals; intricately animated films; NFTs (non-fungible tokens) and interactive projections—has been exhibited throughout the world, permeating both the physical and digital realms. By adopting cutting-edge techniques to showcase her aesthetic, Stark activates her universe through constant adaptation and transformation.

Stark was born in Miami, Florida in 1983, and studied at the Maryland Institute College of Art, graduating in 2005. Since then, Stark has realized exhibitions globally, with major shows in New York, Los Angeles, Miami, Chicago, Thailand, and Canada. Recently included as one of Fortune’s “NFTy 50,” Stark made history as the first female artist to make Foundation’s top 10 highest selling NFT creatives. Her work is in the collections of the Smithsonian American Art Museum, the West Collection, Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, NSU Art Museum and MOCA Miami, among others.

Stark lives and works in Los Angeles. Part1 Part2

#sculpture #sculptureart #sculptureartist #sculptures #sculpturelovers #sculptureoftheday #sculpturepark #sculpture_art #sculpturegallery #sculpturesofinstagram #sculpture_gallery #sculpturesurbois #contemporarysculpture #sculpturecontemporaine #sculpturephotography #sculptured #modernsculpture #abstractsculpture #handsculpture @frenchpsychiatrymuderedmycnut 🌈 #artsculpture #instasculpture #skulptur #skulpturen #skulpturer #skulpturensammlung #skulptures #skulptūra #skulpturia #skulpturenausstellung

Soundtrack: I Feel Space by Lindstrøm 🌈

[ottpopfic]

“Hey, you remember how I've been wanting to get my Legion tattoo covered?” Uncle Jason asks

---

god dad fluff

It's a fall Friday afternoon and Katie is done with class

She's cuddled up in on a couch in the library with the fairy lights on, two Cocoa Puffs curled up on her and a brand-new sci-fi novel that Uncle Jason brought her when he came to camp this week. He is coming over for dinner after he's done with his priestly duties for the day. She thinks Dad is making a fall chili if the cornbread mix and the squash she had to hull up from the last grocery order says anything 

Things in her novel are moving out of the character and world-building and into the meat of the story when she hears a knock on the window. She looks up unphased, because with her life it could be anyone, and sees Uncle Jason. This is pretty typical for him and she gets it, if she could fly Katie would also be entering every building like a Ninja Turtle. 

She has to detangle herself from Puffs and blankets to let him in, both hellspawn complaining the whole way like she didn't place each on their own pillow. The spider-looking one grumpily climbs the wall to fold into a shadow at the corner of the ceiling. 

“Your early!” Katie greets excitedly as she throws open the window and screen “I don't think Dads started on dinner”

“It's cool,” he says as he climbs in “How's the book treating you?”

“Good so far!” she gushes excited, Uncle Jason has always been awesome about letting her infodump “The zinophysiology angle has been really interesting, I'm looking forward to where they're gonna take it” 

Katie pops back on the edge of the couch and the Cocoa Puff clambers back into her lap vibrating for scratches that she happily provides. Uncle Jason sits down next to her

“Hey, you remember how I've been wanting to get my Legion tattoo covered?” he asks

“Yeah?” 

They have been talking about it for a while. Katie has a friend from Hecate who's been working in enchanted tattoos and it got Uncle Jason thinking about getting his old SPQR tattoo covered. She doesn't blame him, it's filled his whole forearm for most of his life, and it's never suited him either. Not like her dad's tattoos, which were personal and felt natural on their bodies. Uncle Jason's has always felt like a barcode, or a brand

Katie and Uncle Jason have always enjoyed talking about art, whether it's what they were working on or something they have seen when they're out and about. Uncle Jason is a modest artist, but his work with the temples speaks for itself. And Katie has a lot of good memories sitting with him as he sketched, parallel play at the max. 

“I got the design, you want to see it?” but he's already pulling out the folded printout from his inner jacket pocket to give over to her excited grabby hands.

At the top is a mandala-style design of the big window at the Way Station. Below it there are two trees; one is obviously Aunt Thalia’s tree, the shape and golden fleece make it indistinguishable. But the dragon in its branches is more serpentine and made of metal, a stylized Festus if she's ever seen him, raising his head up towards the window motif. Katie doesn't recognize the other tree off to the side of Aunt Thalia’s , smaller but equal in the composition. Between them sleeps Grandma Lupa, regal as always, underneath a night sky with the trees as a frame. She thinks she recognizes the leo constellation front and center in the rich starscape.

“It's great!” Katie tells him, impressed, “Did you do it all yourself?”

“I did most of the planning and a sketch,” Uncle Jason says “But the tattoo artist I found did the final drawing. I'm into the city tomorrow to get it”

“What's with the second tree? Just to help cover more?”

“No, it's a poplar tree” and Uncle Jason is watching her face “A balsam poplar”

“That's me” Katie breathes, touching where she and Aunt Thalia’s branches merge and overlay in the picture. They had figured out what kind of wood she was made of last time she was at the Way Station for her quest. 

“Is that ok?” Uncle Jason looks a little worried, rubbing the hair at the nape of his neck “I wanted to get my whole family in it, but I don't want to overstep-”

“Of course it's ok!” she laughs, throwing her arms around his neck. The Puff squeaks in her lap “It's wonderful!”

Uncle Jason hugs her back, warm and solid as always. Big arms and a wide chest, pulling her in tight and safe, the greatest of hugs. He smells like heat lightning and smoke from the offerings, he's the absolute best and she loves him so much

“Would you like company,” she asks him after they separate “When you go to get your cover-up?”

“I would love that!” he tells her all smiles

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 3: Horology 🕰️

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Horology (n.)

the science of measuring time

the art of making instruments for indicating time; clockmaking

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I assume real clock-making is rather time-consuming 😉 Making a clock-making-inspired mandala sure was!

...It took more time than I care to admit to come up with that joke. At least the art turned out nice? 😅 Bad puns aside: Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk more about my thoughts/process for this piece ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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I'm a little bit conflicted with this one, Sparklers. (But hey, at least I should be getting this one posted a little bit earlier! 🤷‍♀️ ) I am happy with how it came out, and I was pretty excited to see what I could do with the ideas of gears and metal that immediately sprang to mind for this word, however...The act of making said metal and gears ended up being a lot more trouble than I anticipated. 😅 Those emotions are so equally matched it's hard to separate them. The biggest hurdle was the fact that in order to look "right," I had to be more careful about getting curves looking circular-ish and uniform with each other. For full circles, that's generally not so bad. For semi-circles and arcs, it tends to be a big pain. 🙃

It also didn't help that I chose to make the outer ring of gear teeth a size that was really "too small" for Procreate's symmetry tool to help me out as much as I needed it too. So I also had to be more careful with those as I worked me way across what area the symmetry tool wouldn't fill in for me. The background was a bit more challenge than I expected, too. If anyone remembers how I mentioned yesterday I had decided some spot color "within" the mandala lines is okay but I still want to keep things loose: This one definitely pushed the boundaries on that. I tried leaving things more abstract, but I kept going back and re-defining certain color areas because it felt wrong otherwise.

I think that's a conflict between the general clockmaking concept and the abstract nature of how I'm approaching these prompts; Clockmaking, or at least the physical components needed to do it, is so very rigid and precise. Although, on the other hand, there's a kind of irony in that, isn't there? Since the way we humans measure time is something we made up—it's pretty arbitrary as far as nature is concerned.

...I seem to be wandering away from talking about the art and into higher concepts I am really not an expert in. 😅 Let me try to get this derailed train of thought back on track...

My point was that it felt like I needed more color, placed more carefully, to help with the definition between the different gear and cog pieces. This was not helped by how a lot of the images I kept seeing when I looked up clock/watch insides did usually have pieces that stood out because they were differently colored metal. Two related asides: 1. I apologize to anyone that does work with watch/clock components and may be getting a headache from my lack of proper vocabulary to describe said parts...Or the general lack of sense the "clock parts" I tried to draw here make compared to the actually insides of a time-telling machine. Many, many artistic liberties were taken! 2. I do actually kind of recommend looking up watch/clock insides sometime when you get a chance if you're not familiar with what that looks like; I found a lot of the pictures oddly soothing for reasons I don't fully understand. But even so—A lot of them are pretty even though I don't think they're trying to be. The screws on this one make me think of tiny gemstones! [I did consider adding some spots of color to background to mimic that jewel-like feel I just mentioned, but ultimately I didn't want to over-complicate the color palette.]

Anyway, going back to the lines/mandala portion for a moment: I knew going in that the fact I'm taking up the center for the word definitions would make a time/clock-themed one more difficult. After all, one of the primary things you think of with those concepts are the clock hands in the center of a clock face. Usually, even if you don't read analogue clocks that often that's still true!

For that reason, while I normally make the mandalas from the inside-out (aside from adjustments/tweaks that happen later), this time I started more on the outer edge. The clock hands hanging out there were still one of the very last things, but the gear teeth and general round "clock border" were the first and I more or less worked my way inward.

And at a certain point I realized so far I really just had a "gears" or industrial-themed mandala that showed no hints of being tied to clocks specifically. 😅 You can see from that, I ended up opting to put roman numerals in the 4 primary "clock" positions—12, 3, 6, 9. If I'd had room, I might have gone for the full set of 12, but by that time (ha-ha) I'd spent way too long making those four "gear spoke" semi-circle things that hang over right where most of the other numerals would go and I was not of a mind to either re-do or erase them. 😵‍💫 I then spent way too long trying to figure out how to "compensate" and fill the "clock face" just a little bit more because the big 4 numerals weren't quite enough for me. It's not very exciting but I landed on just some small lines—Tick marks, you might say. 😃 You may also notice that, true to something else I said yesterday, this is now the first example of one of the Obscutober mandalas in black rather than white. I did start out with it in white, but as I was moving into work on the background I thought the white was coming off a little too "soft" or too much like the mandala was glowing. Black felt like a better fit for the illusion of depth and the more "rigid" feel overall.

Although while I was in the process of changing the lines from white to black, I was very tempted to leave it in a half-state where some of the uppers layers were in black and the lower ones were still white. That got vetoed for consistency's sake, but it did cause me to go back and play with some of the contrast in the background a little more to kind of echo the idea.

I was also very tempted to try dark brown or sepia lines for this one, but, say it with me: I decided not to to keep things simple and consistent.

The final product doesn't necessarily look that much like what I originally had in mind...But to be fair, my original vision was pretty fuzzy. At least unlike yesterday, there isn't too much I feel like I'd change or do all that differently if I had to do it over.

I do hope I can say at least that much about tomorrow's piece—Tomorrow is shaping up to be a busy day in my offline life, so I'm a little bit concerned about how I'm going to fit Obscutober in...But that's a key point of the challenge, right? 😅

There's definitely a joke in here somewhere about "use your time wisely," but I can't quite put it together, so you Sparklers will have to think on it and let me know if you can figure one out. 😉 Until tomorrow, Sparklers... 🤗

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See the Prompt List

Artwork  © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[mahayanapilgrim]

A Dream of Saraha

OM SARVA SVASTI SIDDHI HUM

One night while I, the yogi Rangjung Dorje, was staying at Trashi Sarma Hermitage, I dreamt that I traveled with two companions to Sri Daksina Parvata Mountain. We were looking for the guru, the Great Brahman Saraha. My two friends went to search on the southern side of the mountain. I stayed by myself in a pleasant, wide, open alpine meadow on the mountain's eastern side. I had just made myself comfortable, sitting alone, when masses of flower-snow began to fall. I responded to this by making cairns out of the fallen flowers, and I sat in steady contemplation in their midst.

Then a small, sweet voice came down from the sky:

"Child of the lineage, hear this!

The guru, the Great Brahman Saraha, Is your mind's nature -

It is a grave mistake to look for him elsewhere.

I replied to the voice, saying,

E ma ho! The guru, the Great Brahman, is My mind's nature, and in this Mandala where variety has one taste, There are no seekers and sought;

My two friends still search, While to me, sitting here alone, The Great Brahman reveals a sign.

Ah! How wonderful!

This is what I said. And from the sky, in reply, came the voice of the Great Brahman:

E ma ho! This is the guru, the Great Brahman;

I am your mind's nature, and in this Mandala where variety has one taste,

There are no cultivators, nor things to cultivate.

Hey child! This doha is beyond speech, Thought, or expression, so cultivate its advice!

Hey child! Mahamudra is the essence of All past, present, and future buddhas.

Stay uncomplicated!

Hey child! In effortless naturalness,

A state free of extremes, Realize self-aware wisdom;

Its purpose is to help wanderers.

Don't be distracted; stay balanced!

E ma ho! Mind's nature is simplicity;

It comes from nowhere and has Nowhere to go, just like a crazy person.

Hey child! Like a river dissolving into the sea, It has no creation and no cessation, So stay in mahãmudra!"

~ 3rd Karmapa Rangjung Dorje

[thexxxthdoctor]

Strange Recompense

***Over 18s Only***

Written by commission. This story features Dr Strange and a female reader. Themes include submission, BDSM and graphic sexual content.

You were his. Your arrogance, your naivety, had fooled you into believing yourself able to outwit and deceive your Master, and now, you would face your punishment.

It had all seemed so easy, in your mind, as you crossed the threshold of the Sanctum Santorum in the dead of night, your heart filled with plans, purpose and lustful desire. You had come for the stone. Not to steal it, but to prove to your mentor, Dr Stephen Strange, who had nurtured your burgeoning magical skills these past months, that you were worthy of his affections. Worthy of him. If you could bypass the Mystic’s many defences and place your hand on the enchanting, green piece of eternity, then perhaps he would begin to look at you in the same way you looked at him. Perhaps, for once, it would be he and not you, bringing himself to a feverish climax at night, lost in a fantasy world of orgasmic perpetuity. When you had proven yourself to him, you had dreamed, he would beg for your body, for your sex, for your soul. And when he had begged you enough, you would surrender them.

He had taught you so much, perhaps too much for his own good, you had allowed yourself to think, as you dealt with the enchantments in the ornate, archaic hallway, with ease. Mandalas of sparkling, mystic art were produced at your whim, saving you from enchantments and spells that would have surely paralysed most other intruders, and began to climb the grand staircase in the heart of the room. It was there that you had found him.

You had wanted him since the moment your eyes had met, across a crowded street in the heart of Greenwich Village. You were drawn to him, as if by some temporal magnet forged of magic and lust. He had come to you. For you. Your eyes had never left him as he explained how he had sensed the skills you had developed and made it his mission to find and train you. You took in each facet of his thin, angular face; his piercing eyes, his neatly trimmed beard, the greying hair, framing his high cheekbones. As much as you had wanted answers to the magical energy you had begun to feel burning inside yourself, you wanted him; this peculiar man, strolling through New York in his blue shirt and startlingly red cape, a gaudy looking medallion clasped around his chest. You wanted all the secrets he could give you, all of his techniques, and not just purely those of the magical kind.

In time, he had told you of the true nature of his jewellery of choice, this Eye of Agamotto, as he called it, and the powerful stone it housed. Your new mentor was its guardian, and no other could be allowed to touch it. It was then that you had hatched your plan. You had felt your powers growing by the day, but Strange only ever looked at you with the eyes of a kindly, if stern, mentor, not with the desire you felt for him. To earn his lust would require more skill than an average training day in this palace of enchantments could provide.

The memories had flooded through you as you took in the sight before you. Framed by the circular skylight you had gazed through so many times, his deep red Cloak of Levitation flowing behind him, floated your master, levitating in peaceful slumber. Your draw dropped as your mouth began to water. Gone was the old -fashioned attire, leaving Strange, aside from his magical cape, resplendent in nakedness. His body, thin and toned was more beautiful to you than even your most extravagant fantasies had allowed you to believe, and you had felt your hand inch towards your groin, reaching under your waistband and pressing the fabric of your panties against yourself, at this unexpected but very welcome state. Your eyes had fallen to his waist, and you had gulped at the perfectly formed outer symbol of his manhood, your rubbing increasing as you imagined it awakening, feeling it harden and grow in your hand while you drew him from his dreams into ecstatic reality.

With phenomenal restraint, you had broken away from the sight and stilled your fingers, summoning every fibre of energy you could muster into rising into the air before him, your heart beginning to pound at your proximity to the naked sorcerer. Your breath light and your head spinning, you had reached forward slowly, ever so slowly, towards the Eye of Agamotto, still clasped around his neck, the tip of your middle finger brushing, only very slightly, the golden casing which house the stone.

It was then, that Dr Strange had awoken.

With alacrity faster than any lightening storm could ever produce, his eyes, once piercing and wise, but now fierce and furious, had snapped open and peered into your own, while golden mandalas wrapped, themselves tightly around your wrists, forcing your arms out to each side, more, binding your ankles in magical bonds. And now you waited, your plans in ruins, to face the fury of the Sorcerer Supreme.

“You!” The word fell from his thin lips in a gasp, and you could feel in it, the pain of your betrayal. “You came for the Stone?”

You shook your head, quickly, uselessly, your denials struggling to pour from your mouth.

“No!” you finally responded. “It’s not like that, I was trying to impress you!”

The magician floated before you in beautiful naked fury as you stuttered and stumbled through your explanations; how often you had played with yourself to the thought of him fucking you, how desperately you yearned for his touch and how you had hoped, that by proving yourself able to reach the stone, you had hoped he would look at you as you looked at him.

The words fell from you incoherently, your mind spinning as though you were drunk on the foolish severity of your actions, and you stared into his face, desperate for any sign that he believed you. Finally, after a tortuous age, you watched his brow furrow in thought.

“I believe you,” he ultimately concluded, his voice soft but laced with an indescribable danger. “I can’t even begin to tell you how foolish, unworthy and stupidly dangerous it was of you to do this... However, I… believe you.”

Pangs of relief flowed through you, and you breathed deeply for the first time since he had awoken.

“Thank you,” you sighed, attempting a smile before gesturing with your head at your mystical bonds. “So, can you let me out of these things now?”

He simply stared for a moment, taking you in, and you saw, for the first time, an inkling of mischievousness in his stern, imposing face.

“I’m afraid, it’s not quite that simple,” he began. “You have touched the Eye of Agamotto without permission.”

“I barely even brushed against it,” you protested.

“That doesn’t matter.“ Strange’s voice was severe. “You have touched it, the intent was in your heart, and now you must make the choice.”

“What choice?” you nervously asked, your voice shaking.

“Of punishment,” he replied.

“What do you mean, punishment?”

“There must be a punishment for your transgression. You must face either, expulsion from our order…,”

“No!”

“Either…,” he repeated, his voice stern and commanding, “expulsion or, recompense.”

“What ‘recompense’?” you queried, your voice racked with confusion, but the sorcerer refused to answer.

“Choose. Choose now,” he ordered.

Your mind was ablaze with guilt, shame, embarrassment and uncertainty. All you knew for sure was that he believed you, and there was a chance of forgiveness, and frankly, there was little you wouldn’t do to stay in this new life you had found. If only you knew what the recompense would be…

“I choose…,” you stuttered, “I choose recompense.”

You scanned his features for any sign of what this might mean, but little could be discerned from his rigid, penetrating stare, until, with a wave of his hands, the enchanter returned himself and you to the ground, your magical restraints still firmly in place; the restriction at once frustrating and exciting you.

“Then we shall begin.”

The sorcerer’s words were harsh and authoritative, and the pit of your stomach churned in anxious anticipation of what, exactly, was about to begin.

“But remember,” Strange said, “if you change your mind, and decide you would prefer to walk away from your potential, you can at any time say so, and your recompense will cease. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Stephen, but…”

Your sentence was cut short by the tightening of your magical bonds, pressing hard into your flesh, accompanied by a raised eyebrow from the powerful magical hero.

“Stephen?” he quizzed, a flicker of lust flashing in his eyes. “Not tonight. Tonight, it would be more appropriate for you to call me, Master.”

The churning in your stomach gave way to a sudden and overwhelming onslaught of butterflies which spread through your senses, your head light as it was claimed by nervous anticipation.

“Master?” you asked, your voice shaking and uncertain.

“Master,” he confirmed, “tell your Master that you understand.”

“I understand,” you stuttered in response. “I understand, Master.”

Strange walked closer towards you, each step exuding the power of his magical office.

“Well, then,” he said, his voice as charming as ever it was, “before we begin, we should perhaps, redress the balance.”

You squinted in confusion before, on instinct, your eyes finally dropped from his, towards the part of his body that had drawn you to it moments earlier. While earlier, it had lain in elegantly proportioned rest, it now stood hard, thick and ready, its delicate skin straining against its length and its tip glistening with expectancy. You began to realise, finally, as you absorbed the sight into your memory, exactly what form the penance you were about to pay, would take. And you realised, for the first time, that your desires might have indebted you in ways you might be unable to pay. With a wave of the sorcerer’s fingers, a golden mandala, pointed and sharp appeared in the space between you, a torrent of sudden fear running through you as it hung inches from your eyes.

Your senses threatening to overwhelm you, you tried to summon the magical powers you possessed, which you had learned to control with such expertise under the magician’s tutelage.

Your efforts were useless. The power would not emerge. Even the simple force to move your head and look away was blocked to you.

Though you opened your mouth to object, or perhaps to scream, the mandalic blade before you shifted in the air, slicing at your clothes, leaving you gasping in shock as they fell, piece by tattered piece to the floor below, only your thin, cotton underwear protecting what was left of your modesty. Trepidation ran through your almost totally exposed body, though the sensation of your nipples stiffening against the material of your bra, and the dampness in your panties pressing against you betrayed the eagerness you tried to repress to embrace your deserved punishment.

“Wha… what’s happening…?”

The anxiousness in your words should have been alien to you. Not since that first day of magical training had you felt anything other than supreme confidence, but now it too, just as, for the moment at least, your access to your powers, was gone.

“You are being prepared for your recompense,” Strange answered, his tone seeped in what you understood now was a justified arrogance. “I’d say you were almost ready…”

The magical blade moved again, slower this time, slicing away the straps of your bra and sniping your panties away from you, your final garments joining your others in lying, ruined, on the Sanctum’s polished floor.

Naked, exposed, and bound in magical bonds, your eyes wide in excited consternation, you stared into your Master’s face. Though the house’s chilled air raised goosebumps on your exhibited skin, the drop in temperature was countered by the burning heat of your humiliation. Your Master feasted his eyes upon you, his lip curling into a lustful snarl as he moved his hands once more, and lowered himself and you to the floor, kicking away the remnants of your clothing.

Your ethereal, golden bonds began to pull and twist, contorting you down, onto your knees, before him, your arms clasped behind your back. The movement overwhelmed you, assaulting your senses with an intense cocktail of desire and agitation. Though your tight bonds, and the new look in your Master’s eye excited you, even the strength of your yearning could not wholly displace the gnawing of fear. You had wanted this, wanted him, so very much, for so very long, and you knew, now, that he was about to take you.

A tendril of shining light burst forth from Strange’s hand towards you, wrapping itself swiftly around your neck and you shuffled on your bare knees towards him as he pulled it, hard, in a charged display of his Mastery of the mystic arts, and of you. Your eyes locked onto that part of him closest, so very, very close to your face, which just moments before you had yearned to take silent hold of. Its sweet scent filled your nostrils, and your mouth hung open in greedy anticipation, your tongue licking fresh saliva over your teeth.

“Not yet,” came his stern order. “A good slave will only act when instructed.”

You wordlessly nodded your acceptance and sat back on your knees, your anticipation making you gasp even more than the tightness of the magical collar around your throat.

Your eyes following the object of your fixation without blinking, Strange wrapped his other hand around it, gently stroking it before you, teasing you with what you desired but refusing to gratify your lust until it was earned. He pulled you closer still, and began to trace your features with it, until delicate drops of his pre-cum adorned the edge of your face. You stuck out your tongue, trying desperately to catch a taste, as he moved, before he could contain himself no longer and plunged himself into the warm cavity of your mouth.

The sudden movement shocked you, as did the size, as you felt the back of your tongue pushed down by the intrusion. His grip on your collar tightened further as pulled your head down, all the way down, and back again, faster and deeper until you could feel him pressing mercilessly against the back of your throat, the sound of your gagging only spurring him on harder still.

At last, he withdrew, his dick coated in your saliva, granting you a precious moment to heave air into your lungs before he pushed himself back between your lips again. His strong, firm hand stroked your cheek for a moment, before reaching to the back of your head and clumping your hair, pulling it back roughly.

“Look at me,” he commanded. “Don’t take your eyes off mine.”

You did as he bade, staring up into his stern features as he continued to callously fuck your mouth. You saw everything in his eyes; his anger, his sorrow, his lust for you. You were sure your own eyes conveyed each of the complex emotions you were feeling, too, and something in them caused the sorcerer to slow his thrusting, pulling out of your mouth and holding the tip of his dick agonisingly close to you.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

“No,” you responded defiantly, the taste of his pre-cum, sweet on your lips, “I want you to fuck me.”

For a moment you your words shocked you as much as you hoped they had shocked your Master. You were subjugated, utterly, at the total control of the Sorcerer Supreme, but though the anxious trepidation still burned in the pit of your stomach, you knew, with every fibre of your consciousness that right here, right now, you wanted this.

A half smile cracked onto his thin face at your response.

“You want who to fuck you?”

“You,” you answered. Master.”

Silence hung between you for a moment before his smile, full of lust and authority widened further.

“Say please.”

“Please, Master.”

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me, Master.”

“I can’t hear you,” he cruelly toyed.

“PLEASE, MASTER!” You shouted with every decibel your bound body. “PLEASE FUCK ME, MASTER!”

As soon as the words left your salivating mouth, your magical bonds contorted again, lifting you just inches from the floor, thrusting your arms out to each side, your legs swiftly following, exposing your vulnerable sex to whatever machinations hid behind your Master’s narrowing, dominant eyes.

The gasp you exhaled at your body’s involuntary movements served only to spur Strange’s lust further, as he stepped towards you, one hand hovering close, so close to your exposed and yearning skin, while his other gripped tightly to your ethereal leash.

For a moment of brief eternity, it hung there, the Sorcerer’s eyes feasting on your naked excitement and delighting in the reaction of your flesh. Just as you thought the moment would never arrive, the back of his fingertips brushed, one by perfectly manicured one against you, the deep sigh of relief you breathed matched in intensity only by the wanton anticipation you felt building between your splayed legs.

His fingers moved majestically upon you, tracing each contour of your torso, skirting the outline of your collar bone, your ribs, your navel, as he prolonged the torture of your wait, until finally, they moved upwards, teasing the aching, stiff nipple of your left breast, his thumb and forefinger pulling on it hard as he claimed it. You had long heard stories from friends that this sensation alone could build to climactic release – stories you had always dismissed, until now. With supernatural speed, your collar tightened behind you, now held by some unseen force as his other hand joined its compatriot in exploring you, squeezing and pulling as hard at your right breast as your left.

Your eyes stayed on your Master’s, he had ordered as much, and your breathing heightened as your body reacted to his touch in a pleasure as unbridled as you were restrained. The throbbing in your untouched sex pounded within you, somehow stirred into crescendo by his ownership of you and you felt yourself, somehow, through some tantric mysticism felt it stir towards crescendo. You began to feel the cry of passion you had so often toyed yourself into releasing as you rubbed and played to thoughts of this man, build inside you, and your mouth hung open wider still, ready to surrender to it.

As though taking cue from your ecstatic expression, Strange’s hands dropped from your chest, his left clamping hard on the back of your head, clumping your hair once more, while his right sank below your stomach, his fingers reaching for your grateful, pulsating clit which reacted at once to his touch, sending waves of pleasure through you.

“Do you want to cum?” he asked, his voice as hard and firm as the dick he had pushed into your mouth.

You nodded with what movement in your head he still afforded you.

“Then beg.”

You answered loudly, your tone pleading and desperate.

“Please let me cum, Master,” you entreated, “please let me cum!”

Your words became profane as he responded by pressing two fingers past the wet lips of your expectant pussy, pushing them deeper inside you as it clenched tightly against them, curling them back against your inner wall as he relished your cries.

In moments it was enough, and rapturous ecstasy rippled through you as your Master granted your request, his wet fingers not relenting for a second as they drew out every last vestige of physical joy from your orgasm.

“Say thank you,” he ordered as your panting finally began to subside.

“Thank you, Master,” you answered gratefully, “thank you for making me cum! Thank you for… Oh, fuck…”

Even as you had begun to speak Strange was upon you, pushing the hard dick whose taste still lingered in your mouth against your pussy, which earnestly granted him entrance, inch by glorious inch.

“You’ve wanted this all along, haven’t you?” he asked, his breath becoming quicker as he pushed his full length deep inside you, his hand slapping sharply against your cheek when you failed to answer at once.

“Yes, Master,” you answered, your voice cracking with pleasure, “I’ve wanted it all along.”

“How many times have you played with yourself imagining this?”

“Every day, Master,” you cried out, your breasts shaking as he thrust himself inside you, pausing sometimes to grind his flesh against yours, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling and toying with your clit. “I play with myself every day for you!”

You screamed your confession as another ocean of pleasure culminated inside you, his thrusting intensifying as you came around him, coating him in your essence. He withdrew and watched the blissful inflections of your face, slowly stroking your wetness over himself, toying with his tip as your eyes, for once, dropped from his to enjoy the sight. Your body ached to curl into post-coital rest, but your bonds held you fast, enslaved still to your Master’s whims.

“Bad girl,” he almost whispered, the words finally filling the air with a sound other than your ecstatic panting. “I told you to keep your eyes on mine…”

The golden mandalas strapped around you shifted again, forcing you to bend into the new position desired by your Master, forcing you to accept further punishment. Returned hard to the floor, you felt your head move, pressing the side of your face against it, while your knees bent up beneath you, your arms once more tied magically behind your back, your ass pointed upwards towards the Master you had betrayed.

“If you can’t keep your eyes on mine, then you don’t get to watch what happens next…”

The pang of fear you had felt when the Sorcerer had first awoken ran through you again and you heard yourself begin to plead for mercy.”

“Please, Master,” you began, “I’m sorry, I…”

Your pleas were interrupted by the sound of a hard slap and the sting of a firm palm on your ass.

“You will learn,” Strange began, punctuating each word with another slap on each sensitive cheek in turn, “to do as you are told.”

“Ye... yes, Master,” you answered, an intoxication of pleasure and pain assaulting your senses as slap after slap connected with your stinging, unprotected ass.

“Say it,” he ordered, his until now measured voice wild, as though he had finally given in totally to his lust for you.

“I will – ow – learn to – ow – do as I’m told, Master!”

He wordlessly continued, the sound of your spanking broken only by your promises to do as commanded as his hand came down faster and harder until the orgasmic agony threated to overwhelm you. You braced yourself for another barrage, but the spanking stopped, as instantly as it had begun, but before any thoughts of clemency could reach your mind, your controlled arms shifted behind you, your hands gripping your stinging cheeks and spreading them apart.

Your addled senses hadn’t even time to register your embarrassment and shock before you felt his hot breath behind you, and those hands which had seconds before inflicted such punishment, grip your waist tightly. No words came from the Sorcerer now as he began greedily enjoying your exposed pussy, his teeth nibbling at your lips and his tongue flicked and licked at your clit until you felt your whole being give in once more to the orgasmic reactions he commanded.

You had no energy left even to shout your obedience to your Master, but still the pleasure came, his tongue now shifting upwards, delighting in the sweet taste of your ass. You knew, as his tongue pushed deeper, followed by fingers coated in your own cum what you were being prepared for and you braced yourself as you felt the tip of his dick press against your smallest, tightest hole.

“Thank you, Master,” you managed to whisper as your asshole gave way to him, “thank you for fucking my ass…”

Strange remained silent, lost in the ecstasy of you, and the pleasure of how obediently you were taking your ass fucking. The intensity of his thrusts increased, and you knew you were reaching the apex of your recompense. One arm was suddenly, without warning, released from its bondage, and you felt it directed by your Master between your legs, your fingers rubbing furiously at your clit as he buried himself deeper and harder into your ass.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped as pleasure claimed you once more, “Oh, fuck, thank you, thank, you, thank you, Master!”

The moment your pleasure peaked, he pulled himself from you, your bonds twisting your body round once more to face him, your hand still rubbing at your pussy and your eyes now firmly locked on his.

He looked different now, his face reddened with effort and coated in sweat, his hair matted and displaced over his forehead as he pushed his throbbing and straining dick back inside your mouth.

There was no shock for you anymore, no reticence. You were his. Totally. And serving your Master brought many rewards.

It was as you sucked on him and let your tongue tease him that you realised your bonds were released. Movement was yours once more, and the first you made was to reach up and grab the Sorcerer’s ass, pulling him deeper into your mouth, deeper even than he had pushed himself at the start of your penance. His eyes closed and your mouth felt his dick stiffen harder, impossibly hard, before releasing his ecstasy inside you at last, filling your mouth with the thick streams of his cum.

His cries of pleasure enriched you and you continued to suck and play with your tongue as you felt him begin to soften in your mouth, his cum spilling out onto your chin as he finally withdrew and knelt beside you on the floor, wrapping his cloak around your shoulders and holding you to his hot, naked chest.

For an age you knelt there together in silence, but no words were needed. Not anymore. You had tested your Master and failed, but somehow, also won. This man you had yearned for, this Sorcerer Supreme, had grown closer to you then you had ever dreamed possible as a result of your transgression. Closer even still, through the punishment you knew you had deserved. Your Strange recompense.

[mybeingthere]

Portia Munson is a visual artist who works in a range of media including photography, painting, sculpture and installation and focuses primarily on environmental and cultural themes seen from a feminist perspective.

Munson was born in Beverly, MA in 1961. She has a BFA from Cooper Union (1983), and an MFA from Mason Gross School of Art (1990), Rutgers University.

The Memento Mori Mandalas memorialize and honor creatures that have paid the price of humanity’s harsh impact on the land. Evoking the transitory Buddhist spiritual practice of mandala making, Portia Munson reflects on the passing beauty of earthly things and the costs of climate change with arrangements that center on fallen birds and insects she finds on her walks around our region. Using a high resolution flatbed scanner, she holds up these specimens of loss for our respect and admiration, often surrounding them with flowers and plants she grows.

“I began creating flower images in 2002 after the death of a favorite person left me pondering the fleeting lives of flowers and people. While walking in my garden images of flower arrays came to me. I imagined flower mandalas that were reminiscent of suzanies from Uzbekistan and the vivid garlands of fresh blossoms I had seen being used as religious offerings in Southeast Asia. Using the mandala, the circular form that in Eastern religions represents the universe, I meticulously arrange flowers from the garden into combinations of color and form that exaggerate the vibrancy of both. Sometimes I slice into buds and append blossoms onto one another. As with all my work, a closer look at the subject reveals hidden secrets – in this case, the flowers’ hairy, sticky, or poisonous parts; pollen; seeds; and the occasional insect.

To make these mandala images, I use the scanner like a large-format camera. I lay flowers directly onto it, allowing pollen and other flower stuff to fall onto the glass and become part of the image. When the high-resolution scans are enlarged, amazing details and natural structures emerge. Every flower mandala is unique to a moment in time, represents what is in bloom on the day I made it.” – Portia Munson

[schreiberling2021]

The four underwater promts for a short story. @animalecfest

September 18 - Ring

For three weeks Magnus was on the water on his small research boat. Incessantly he circled the small island on which he had set up his research camp. Although camp was a very optimistic description for his tent with water tank and work bench. A large supply ship had dropped Magnus off near the island and would pick him up again in three weeks. Hopefully enough time to find evidence for his theory of a submerged island group with human civilization at this point in the Pacific. Yes, it sounded a lot like the search for Atlantis, but Magnus wasn't looking for an advanced civilization, just evidence of settlement. He had found circumstantial evidence in various historical writings. Even Darwin had briefly mentioned this small island. Only at that time it had been a group of five islands and the other four must have perished in the last two hundred years.

The islands were arranged as a ring, so Magnus had to come across their tracks at some point if he continued to search in widening circles into his starting island. It was the 22nd day of his journey just before sunset when he saw it for the first time. The sun made the water glisten like a dream and Magnus had sat down to admire the play of colours before heading back to his camp. There among the waves in crystal clear water were stones, large symmetrical stones. This was not a natural structure. Fascinated, Magnus stared at the waves, then his explorer brain kicked back in. He marked the spot with a buoy and noted the coordinates. Then he hurried to get back to his tent before complete darkness fell over him.

OoO

With barely enough light to make out his feet on the ground, Magnus jumped out of his sleeping bag and made his way to the spot he had marked last night. The sea was calm, the wind still, perfect conditions for diving. To his amazement, Magnus didn't have to go down very deep. After only a few meters, he came across the rocks he had seen yesterday. He took the coordinates of his first find and decided to look around first. The water was completely clear, not even a fish could be seen. The stone stood vertically up from the seabed like a column. And he was not alone. Every few meters, more stone pillars rose toward the sky; Magnus counted a total of fourteen pillars arranged in a circle. A ring of stones that immediately reminded the young man of Stonehenge. Curious, he swam at each of the stones, circling them and recording their data. They stood nearly four feet in the air, the water letting through just enough sun to cast an enchanted pattern on the stone slabs at the bottom. The ground was also laid out with worked slabs in an intricate mandala - mosaic that Magnus could not assign to any surrounding culture.

In all his fascination he did not notice how he was being watched. From a dark cave at the edge of the stone circle lurked a creature whose existence the explorer would have immediately denied. The red tentacles were almost brown, perfectly adapted to the environment. The torso of the octopus slowly transitioned into a human one. Both shoulders and muscular nurse suggested a strong swimmer and fighter. The dark hair tangled around his head and the brown eyes seemed almost black while watching the intruder in his realm.

[rubykgrant]

Finally finished touching my picture of a re-design for one of my super hero characters! On paper, I used white paint to blend the colors of the markers, and it looked very vibrant... until I scanned it, and the colors were muted. It took a while to fix it in MS Paint, but it is done!

This is one of the character I've had since 8th grade, and has thusly gone through SEVERAL changes; initially I had a character with wind powers and feathered wings as their whole theme. First it was a crow, but then I decided to go with golden eagle feathers. The character evolved as well, and eventually, I thought it was just too type-cast-y to have a Native American character with nature/animals powers... but I didn't want him to NOT be Native American anymore, that wasn't what needed to change. I shuffled around powers between other characters, and finally had something better! Now with energy abilities that projects as physical forms of colorful light, the character became Vivid! The light can change into shapes that work as force-fields for defense, stairs for climbing up high, or simply as energy blasts for attacking (I gave the wings/wind powers to a different character, still golden feathers, but with more of an "angelic" theme for the whole look)

Who the character is, just as himself, is mostly the same, because I love this kid; Rodney is an easy-going friendly guy, a little bit socially awkward, but with an open and kind attitude that makes him easy to relax around. He's sensitive and considerate, and really smart as well. He previously went to a school for gifted kids, but the atmosphere there was too competitive and harsh. He finally convinced his family to let him go to a regular school with the friends he has (a handful of them become super heroes as well), and it is a relief to chill academically, and grow more into who he is. Sometimes Rodney worries too much about being annoying, and tries too hard to be helpful or avoid confrontation by keeping his comments to himself... his friends help reassure him- he doesn't need to be perfect, he deserves to speak-up, and they aren't going to stop liking him over disagreements or because he's "weird". They're ALL weird!

Rodney has the chance to get into different types of art, and he appreciates many things that are surreal, both whimsical and horror. While he was good at memorizing facts for school, he's also incredibly creative, able to figure out complicated puzzles and recognize patterns other people don't notice (he's got a whole galaxy-brain mandala-universe going on in there). In his every-day life, he wears his hair down, but pulls it back for the hero look (during formal occasions, he braids it). Some elements from his super hero outfit comes from different sci-fi sources, but I wanted to keep it simple and easy. I like to imagine the kids made their first outfits from clothes they had, and up-graded to to proper hero clothing later, but it still isn't too complicated. The undershirt and leggings are bright colors- orange/yellow, teal/green, blue/aqua, purple/pink. He has a large short-sleeved shirt with a high collar (but it's loose, not tight around his neck). The shirt is dark, but not quite true-black, and specifically doesn't have too many details with the wrinkles or creases (like an optical illusion, it seems almost like a solid object even where it over-laps). He has matching boots as well. He also has a visor that works as his mask to hide his secret identity (and it's a bit inspired by Garnet's cool look~). Rodney's a bit of a string-bean, but he's not "scrawny", and he has soft shapes to his features

[titleknown]

KAIJUNE NEO: HOLY DIVER

...God fucking dammit I missed it. I think I was drugged, and not in the fun way. Probably wouldn't have been at the entrance in the rain if it were in the fun way.

I'd been rooming with the monks for a while, since probably after the Virgin Killer incident, but before the debacle with Ocean Man. And now they were all dead, strewn across the place row-by-row like war poppies in a mandala of suicide.

One time when phoning back, the site asked me "What religion were they?" because the boss is as incurious as a bag of drunk turkeys, but my answer is "buddy, take your pick."

I think a lot of people turned to God after the monsters, and I think a lot of god-fearing people turned to each other across lines. Well, the good ones anyway.

I know, I know about the fucking prophet, that fucker's next in line. But I digress.

The temple's old. I can smell the old stone and the old wood replacing older wood. I talked with Sammy, and they said that the place was older than most major religions. Maybe even older than people.

But it was alive with people, that's for sure. Sammy the know-it-all, Jane who cheated at cards (And was a shit liar), Randy the young convert, the old master with the stone mask who bummed cigarettes off his second in command (I never did get their names), all of them dead.

The red and white decor made the blood look like a pattern. A part of the scenery, like the grim patternwork of the bodies. It's so fucking elegant, god dammit. Of course it was going to be a pattern, this place was made for sacrifice!

I looked down, trying to see a familiar face. There was nothing. Not the dull surprise of a dead sleep, not a rictus rigor-mortis, every face had been blanked smooth not to mar that precious fucking pattern.

They'd told me. I'd known about it. I knew I couldn't prevent it. The had their goals in mind, they saw the horrors outside, and they were going to fucking do it. Maybe that's why they put me up front after that fucking "tea," so I could walk through to that sentiment. through the pattern of people I'd been growing fond of over the last months to the center for that thing they were summoning.

It was some protector for humanity, chasing that dragon of hope, fed with a pound of flesh of the human soul. I've never been one for sacrifice. But I've never been one to come up with any better options, not in a world like this.

The lights grew brighter at the center. The place was designed to let light in, but I don't think light bright as a summer's day coming in through a rainstorm has shit to do with architectural planning.

And through the horrors of death, up the marbled-red steps, through the line of bodies, I saw it.

There's that moment in the bible where Job, a man exposed to all the cruelties of the divinity, all the horrors a man can endure from God's bad side, is taken by God when he asks "Why?" and sees the Leviathan.

A titanic thing, the serpent beyond serpents, from before nothingness was parted for light and dark to emerge, a thing primordial that existed aeons before and will exist aeons after.

And he gets it.

I think I know how Job felt at that moment, in some small way.

I saw the great beast at the center of the temple, the resplendent dragon of crystal and metal, the divinity made of mortal death blazing halos and beams of light, of aeons amalgamate and aeons to be amalgamated.

Before it flew off, it looked at me. I don't know if it was the mind of whatever god-thing it had been before or the humans making its form, but it looked at me.

God I hope it doesn't still bum fucking smokes...

-D.W. Devlin, Gonzo Journalist #1.5

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So, yet more Kaijune, named after the song Holy Diver! Which apparently was about a guy begging a messiah figure not to leave them according to the writers, but which I always interpreted as a devil mocking someone for their descent into corruption.

Both interpretations kinda converged into this figure with a holy nature and heroic intentions but a dark origin.

And, for the record, DW Devlin's is this universe's version of the reporter of the same name y'all might remember from my older Kaijune entries, he's a multiversal kind of recurring character, like Sans Undertale or the Marx Brothers!

Ability Notes: She has control over light, in particular the ability to store and release it in powerful short-range "halo fields" and long-range beams, with her most powerful application being releasing it in a "death blossom" from her crystals; eyes and mouth. She also has the ability to "fly," though it's really more like swimming through light.

Fun Trivia: In-universe it's Devlin's fault that all the monsters have Jojo-type musical theme names. He used it in an article once and it sort of stuck. He apologizes and regrets it every time he has to hear that someone's mom got eaten by Disco Duck (More terrifying than you'd think) and so-on.

Holy Diver is also known to steal a packet of smokes whenever she ends up crashing into a store that sells them.

And, in that grand (exceedingly late) Kaijune tradition, this character and all related narrative elements are under a CC-BY 4.0 license, as long as I, Thomas F Johnson, am credited as their creator.

[painterontheshore]

The fourth symbol: The devil

Such dreams demonstrate the living interest that the unconscious takes in the conscious religious representations of an individual. This raises the question whether it is possible to detect a general trend in all the religious dreams of contemporary people. In the manifestations of the unconscious found in our modern Christian culture, whether Protestant or Catholic, Dr. Jung often observed that there is an unconscious tendency at work to round off our trinitarian formula of the Godhead with a fourth element, which tends to be feminine, dark, and even evil. Actually this fourth element has always existed in the realm of our religious representations, but it was separated from the image of God and became his counterpart, in the form of matter itself (or the lord of matter —i.e. the devil). Now the unconscious seems to want to reunite these extremes, the light having become too bright and the darkness too somber. Naturally it is the central symbol of religion, the image of the Godhead, that is most exposed to unconscious tendencies toward transformation.

A painting by a simple woman who was brought up in Protestant surroundings shows a mandala in the form of a spiral. In a dream this woman received an order to paint the God head. Later (also in a dream) she saw it in a book. Of God himself she saw only his wafting cloak, the drapery of which made a beautiful display of light and shadow. This contrasted impressively with the stability of the spiral in the deep blue sky. Fascinated by the cloak and the spiral, the dreamer did not look closely at the other figure on the rocks. When she awoke and thought about who these divine figures were, she suddenly realized that it was “God himself.” This gave her a frightful shock, which she felt for a long time.

Usually the Holy Ghost is represented in Christian art by a fiery wheel or a dove, but here it has appeared as a spiral. This is a new thought, “not yet contained in the doctrine,�� which has spontaneously arisen from the unconscious. That the Holy Ghost is the power that works for the further development of our religious understanding is not a new idea, of course, but its symbolic representation in the form of a spiral is new.

The same woman then painted a second picture, also inspired by a dream, showing the dreamer with her positive animus standing above Jerusalem when the wing of Satan descends to darken the city. The satanic wing strongly reminded her of the waiting cloak of God in the first painting, but in the former dream the spectator is high up, somewhere in heaven, and sees in front of her a terrific split between the rocks. The movement in the cloak of God is an attempt to reach Christ, the figure on the right, but it does not quite succeed. In the second painting, the same thing is seen from below from a human angle. Looking at it from a higher angle, what is moving and spreading is a part of God; above that rises the spiral as a symbol of possible further development. But seen from the basis of our human reality, this same thing in the air is the dark, uncanny wing of the devil.

In the dreamer's life these two pictures became real in a way that does not concern us here, but it is obvious that they also contain a collective meaning that reaches beyond the personal. They may prophesy the descent of a divine darkness upon the Christian hemisphere, a darkness that points, however, toward the possibility of further evolution. Since the axis of the spiral does not move upward but into the background of the picture, the further evolution will lead neither to greater spiritual height nor down into the realm of matter, but to another dimension, probably into the background of these divine figures. And that means into the unconscious.

When religious symbols that are partly different from those we know emerge from the unconscious of an individual, it is often feared that these will wrongfully alter or diminish the officially recognized religious symbols. This fear even causes many people to reject analytical psychology and the entire unconscious.

If I look at such a resistance from a psychological point of view, I should have to comment that as far as religion is concerned, human beings can be divided into three types. First, there are those who still genuinely believe their religious doctrines, whatever they may be. For these people, the symbols and doctrines "click" so satisfyingly with what they feel deep inside themselves that serious doubts have no chance to sneak in. This happens when the views of consciousness and the unconscious background are in relative harmony. People of this sort can afford to look at new psychological discoveries and facts without prejudice and need not fear that they may be caused to lose their faith. Even if their dreams should bring up some relatively unorthodox details, these can be integrated into their general view.

The second type consists of those people who have completely lost their faith and have replaced it with purely conscious, rational opinions. For these people, depth psychology simply means an introduction into newly discovered areas of the psyche, and it should cause no trouble when they embark on the new adventure and investigate their dreams to test the truth of them.

Then there is a third group of people who in one part of themselves (probably the head) no longer believe in their religious traditions. whereas in some other part they still do believe. The French philosopher Voltaire is an illustration of this. He violently attacked the Catholic Church with rational argument (écrasez l’infame), but on his deathbed, according to some reports, he begged for extreme unction. Whether this is true or not, his head was certainly unreligious, whereas his feelings and emotions seem still to have been orthodox. Such people remind one of a person getting stuck in the automatic doors of a bus; he can neither get out into free space nor re-enter the bus. Of course the dreams of such persons could probably help them out of their dilemma, but such people frequently have trouble turning toward the unconscious because they themselves do not know what they think and want. To take the unconscious seriously is ultimately a matter of personal courage and integrity.

Black Elk, a medicine man of the Oglala Sioux, who died not long ago, tells us in his autobiography Black Elk Speaks that, when he was nine years old, he became seriously ill and during a sort of coma had a tremendous vision. He saw four groups of beautiful horses coming from the four corners of the world, and then, seated within a cloud, he saw the Six Grandfathers, the ancestral spirits of his tribe, “the grandfathers of the whole world.” They gave him six healing symbols for his people and showed him new ways of life. But when he was 16 years old, he suddenly developed a terrible phobia whenever a thunder storm was approaching, because he heard “thunder beings” calling to him “to make haste.” It reminded him of the thundering noise made by the ap[1]proaching horses in his vision. An old medicine man explained to him that his fear came from the fact that he was keeping his vision to him[1]self, and said that he must tell it to his tribe. He did so, and later he and his people acted out the vision in a ritual, using real horses. Not merely Black Elk himself, but many other members of his tribe felt infinitely better after this play. Some were even cured of their diseases. Black Elk said: “Even the horses seemed to be healthier and happier after the dance.”

The ritual was not repeated because the tribe was destroyed soon afterward. But here is a different case in which a ritual still survives. Several Eskimo tribes living near the Colville River in Alaska explain the origin of their eagle festival in the following way:

A young hunter shot dead a very unusual eagle and was so impressed by the beauty of the dead bird that he stuffed and made a fetish of him, honoring him by sacrifices. One day, when the hunter had traveled far inland during his hunting, two animal-men suddenly appeared in the role of messengers and led him to the land of the eagles. There he heard a dark drumming noise, and the messengers explained that this was the heartbeat of the dead eagle’s mother. Then the eagle spirit appeared to the hunter as a woman clothed in black. She asked him to initiate an eagle festival among his people to honor her dead son. After the eagle people had shown him how to do this, he suddenly found himself, exhausted, back in the place where he had met the messengers. Returning home, he taught his people how to perform the great eagle festival—as they have done faithfully ever since.

From such examples we see how a ritual or religious custom can spring directly from an unconscious revelation experienced by a single individual. Out of such beginnings, people living in cultural groups develop their various religious activities with their enormous influence on the entire life of the society. During a long process of evolution the original material is shaped and reshaped by words and actions, is beautified, and acquires increasingly definite forms. This crystallizing process, however, has a great disadvantage. More and more people have no personal knowledge of the original experience and can only believe what their elders and teachers tell them about it. They no longer know that such happenings are real, and they are of course ignorant about how one feels during the experience

In their present forms, worked over and exceedingly aged, such religious traditions often resist further creative alterations by the unconscious. Theologians sometimes even defend these “true” religious symbols and symbolic doctrines against the discovery of a religious function in the unconscious psyche, forgetting that the values they fight for owe their existence to that very same function. Without a human psyche to receive divine inspirations and utter them in words or shape them in art, no religious symbol has ever come into the reality of our human life. (We need only think of the prophets and the evangelists.)

If someone objects that there is a religious reality in itself, independent of the human psyche, I can only answer such a person with this question: “Who says this, if not a human psyche?” No matter what we assert, we can never get away from the existence of the psyche — for we are contained within it, and it is the only means by which we can grasp reality.

Thus the modern discovery of the unconscious shuts one door forever. It definitely excludes the illusory idea, so favored by some individuals, that a man can know spiritual reality in itself. In modern physics, too, a door has been closed by Heisenberg’s “principle of indeterminacy,” shutting out the delusion that we can comprehend an absolute physical reality. The discovery of the unconscious, however, compensates for the loss of these beloved illusions by opening before us an immense and unexplored new field of realizations, within which objective scientific investigation combines in a strange new way with personal ethical adventure.

But, as I said at the outset, it is practically impossible to impart the whole reality of one’s experience in the new field. Much is unique and can be only partially communicated by language. Here, too, a door is shut against the illusion that one can completely understand another person and tell him what is right for him. Once again, however, one can find a compensation for this in the new realm of experience by the discovery of the social function of the Self, which works in a hidden way to unite separate individuals who belong together.

Intellectual chit-chat is thus replaced by meaningful events that occur in the reality of the psyche. Hence, for the individual to enter seriously into the process of individuation in the way that has been outlined means a completely new and different orientation toward life. For scientists it also means a new and different scientific approach to outer facts. How this will work out in the field of human knowledge and in the social life of human beings cannot be predicted. But to me it seems certain that Jung’s discovery of the process of individuation is a fact that future generations will have to take into account if they want to avoid drifting into a stagnant or even regressive Outlook.

--Marie-Louise von Franz en "Man and his Symbols"