#also an honorable mention to chiaroscuro

[merakimoonglade]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics

Thank you so much @yourstarsmyscars and @violetasteracademic for sending this to me! 💖 It's been great reading authors own thoughts on their works, and I've added a few I hadn't read yet to my TBR.

In no particular order:

Repeat Until Death. This was one of the rare times where the story poured out in one day. It's my first short fic and the first story in what became my series Chiaroscuro. It's sad but there's a bit of hopefulness at the end. I won't be argued out of my headcanon that after Winter Solstice Azriel trains every night until he is mentally and physically exhausted then looks at items like the headache power and the ear beans and he believes this is how he will spend the rest of his life.

The Second Starfall. I love looking at events we see happen like Starfall from Elain and Azriel's perspective. I still tear up at a minimum when I reread it. It also made me think more deeply about Rhys' motivations which I hadn't done much of before.

Shadowlight. My in progress longfic. I'm a sucker for Elain and Azriel yearning for each other and showing little things like how well they know each other, like Elain noting his different walk when he's tired in chapter 1 and Az knowing her look of exasperation in chapter 2. I have most of it planned in my head and I believe it will be romantic and exciting. There are a few future chapters already written, including one that was my first time delving into fanfiction and is just heartbreaking.

Honorable Mention: Illyrian Transport Services. I love the humor and the back and forth dialogue between Azriel & Elain. It's also my favorite title, though Repeat Until Death is close. Seriously, titling is terrible.

[roskirambles]

Honorable mention: A page of madness (Kurutta Ippeiji, 1926)

The rain. It hardly seems to stop for the people at the Assylum. A woman dancing to no music, stares directed to no one. And the janitor, whose wife is among the patients probably by his own hand, is told by his daughter that she is to be bethroted. But in a world that used to think all forms of mental ailment were contagious and inherited, this news may ruin these plans. As this failed caretaker grapples with his relationships, how to conceal this fact for his daughter's sake and the troublesome inmates, he starts losing his own grip between what's reality and what's dream.

Directed by Teinosuke Kinugasa and written by Nobel Prize winner Yasunari Kawabata(as well as Minoru Inuzuka and Banko Sawada), this film stands out not only because of it’s very survival from an era where most films have been lost to time, but for how forward thinking, bold and unsettling it is.

Unlike western movies from the silent era, Japanese pictures of the time didn't use intertitles to convey dialogue but instead had a narrator or benshi (弁士) to narrate along as to explain the events. The end result is that we have an entire channel of communication completely absent, but in this case we also see a film that has a more refined visual language than many of its westerm contemporaries, and can actually be understood farily well just through the imagery.

Well, mostly. As a movie that explores madness clearly borrowing a page from The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari, the imagery in display leaves a lot of questions with its dreamlike quality. To make matters worse, there's some parts of the print missing which makes some parts of the story harder to follow than they ought.

Even with all of those observations, however, what the film evokes is nothing short of masterful. A chiaroscuro dream that feels like a portrait of a broken family nucleus, guilt, and of course, madness.

[acepoindexter]

can you give some nurseydex fic recs

I’m just gonna apologize right now anon I’m actually the worst at these but I will try for you.

First and foremost, I have to recommend the fic that both I and at least half of the fandom is obsessing over right now, All Hail the Underdogs by xiaq. If you’re not reading it yet, you definitely should be. It’s a nurseydex high school au, and it is fantastic. It’s still in progress and updates weekly, and the noise I make when I get the update email is frankly rather embarrassing. Nursey and Dex’s friendship, and it’s slow transition to something more romantic, is one of the healthiest I’ve seen in a nurseydex fic and I’m so razzed about it. If you’re one of the three people left who has yet to read this, I’m begging you to do so.

On with the list:

love made visible by i_kinda_like_writing

Bitty hummed, turning off the mixer, and said, “Actually, sugar, my advice is much more subtle.” He grabbed a spatula, scraping down the sides of the bowl, and then pointed it at Dex. “Stop being an ass.”Dex squawked. “What? I am not-”“You really are.” Or, Dex learns love through baking, and a few other things happen along the way.

This fic holds a special place in my heart, as I’ve read it quite a few times now. It’s a lovely Dex character study in which Dex and Bitty bond over baking and the therapy they were never able to get, interspersed with Dex coming out to his family, unlearning toxic behaviors, and falling in love with Nursey. The author’s use of symbolism is phenomenal, so if you’re into that, you’re in for a treat!

Overly Honest Methods: Hockey Science Editionby sapphee

Birkholtz, A. H., & Oluransi, J. R. (2016). It’s a date: Effects of designated attachment training exercises on hockey performance. Hockey Shit, 5, 5-16.ABSTRACT: This study replicated Nicholas and Jean-Claude’s (1983) date method study, to see whether participation in Designated Attachment Training Exercises (dates) could improve team partnerships, which are instrumental for on-ice success. Two defensemen, N. and D., went on 12 dates for the 2015-2016 academic year, completed the Ideal Partner Qualities Scale to evaluate their off-ice friendship, and performed partnered on-ice assessments to evaluate their team partnership. […][Or: Nursey and Dex go on dates, in the name of hockey.]

This is actually a series of fics, and they’re all just plain fun. These fics have some of the coolest formats I’ve ever seen, with the first being written in the form of a psychology journal. We get to see the progression of Nursey and Dex’s relationship through multiple different lenses, the first of which being Ransom and Holster, who are conducting an experiment to see if “friend dates” can increase two d-men’s compatibility. This is just a very silly series and I love it dearly.

a little like writing or loving by shellybelle

Nursey struggles with a homework assignment, and Dex just wants to go to bed.  

This one is short and sweet; it’s a lovely one-shot about Nursey struggling with a poetry assignment, and finding home in unexpected places, and unexpected people.

above, beneath, betwixt, between by shellybelle

It doesn’t start on a dark and stormy night.Later, Dex will think: that’s what lured them into the false sense of security. It’s hard to imagine your new room being haunted when you move in on such a nice day.

Another fic by the fantastic shellybelle. If you’re looking an author to binge, she’s an excellent choice. All of her work is incredible. This specific fic is about Nursey and Dex dealing with the aftermath of the Dibs Flip, where the problems and resentment between them are represented by a literal, actual demon haunting their shared bedroom. I’m a sucker for supernatural elements, so I enjoyed the heck out of this.

Fresh by WhatWouldLilyDo

Chris Chow is ready to leave San Francisco and get a fresh start. He hopes that Samwell University is the place where he can do that.Bitty’s sophomore year, from Chowder’s point of view.

I want to preface this one by saying that this is, technically, a Charmer fic with background nurseydex. However, the amount of nurseydex is substantial, and the sequel and most of the companion ficlets are nurseydex centric, and the series in it’s entirety is top notch. In my opinion, this is the most underrated omgcp series that I’ve seen, probably due to it being listed primarily under Charmer instead of nurseydex. It features trans!Chowder, ace! and bipolar!Nursey, OCD!Dex, and Deaf!Farmer, and includes my personal favorite thing in a nurseydex fic, which is Dex slowly but surely unlearning all the toxic mentalities that he came to Samwell with. This is just an all around good fic.

organza and honey by Acai

Will never meant to love Nursey.And yet, here he was.

This is a very soothing fic, which is surprising due to it’s subject matter. Dex dreams of his dead mother, and sometimes he tells her about his life and about Nursey. The author writes beautifully, and all the trauma that Dex is working through in this fic- the grief of losing his mother, and implied ptsd from this and from child abuse- feels very organic. For me, this is a very cathartic read, if for no other reason than the author’s writing style feels like putting on a sweater fresh out of the dryer. It’s not exactly a happy fic, but it leaves you with a sense that, perhaps not now, but soon, things will get better.

[menaceanon]

4, 11, and 13 for the ask meme!

Oooh, let’s see! Gonna do all of these for Chiaroscuro. This also got... way longer than expected lmao.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?:

So there are a handful of moments I’m really fond of, but there’s one exchange from chapter 5 that remains my favorite. Up until this point I’d only had a rough plan for Mary and Ed’s dynamic, but when I wrote this exchange I knew I’d really found them, and (better yet) that it would work. Also, Mary’s confession about barnacles still makes me laugh.

She passes the bandage to Ed, who loops it around his front and hands it back on the other side. “I’m afraid I’m not very diligent about drilling them in their manners.”

“Oh, yeah, manners,” Ed says. “I was just about to complain about their manners. Oof,” he adds, as she tugs the bandage pointedly. 

“I’m trying to warn you that they’re about to latch on to you like a couple of barnacles. They have sticky hands and a thousand questions.”

“Are you sure you know what a barnacle is?”

“I have no idea what a barnacle is.” Mary tucks the bandage in on itself, checks her work, and straightens. “Put your shirt on,” she drawls, “you’re distracting Doug.” Ed winks at her. 

11. What do you like best about this fic?:

That’s tough to say, since the fic is really just me picking up things I like and cramming them into a word doc as fast as I can. But if you were to force me to choose… Actually, I can tell you what I’m proudest of.

I like that Mary spends time playing counselor, but it’s never at the expense of her personhood. That’s a pet peeve of mine, when a character—usually a woman and/or a person or color—is written less as a character than as a conduit for a ship, and their own needs and wants and loves and hates are subsumed to that purpose.

The first thing we see Mary doing in her new life is counseling another widow, and from her voiceover in ep 10 it’s clear that she spent a lot of time deliberately learning about herself. This is a woman who likes thinking about what makes people tick and how to solve their problems. It makes complete sense that she’d meddle with Ed and Stede. But it’s always going to be on her own terms. That’s important to me.

The itchiest parts of this story for me are the places where that element could use some improvement—either earlier chapters, when I was writing mostly just to get a silly scene out of my head and only had a faint idea what the arc of the fic would be; or else times I had to write quickly and force myself to publish on time because (speaking of working on yourself) I’ve spent a lot of time teaching myself not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good.

But whenever I struggled to write a scene, that idea became my lodestone, and I think—I hope—it shows.

13. What music do you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

So I rarely have music on while I’m plotting or writing, because unless I am Extremely In The Zone it’s just going to be ADHD sensory hell. But I do put my headphones in and go for a walk when I’m stuck on a scene, and I listen to songs that—usually sound-wise and nothing else—fit the tone of what I was trying to write.

Honorable mentions go to Leon Bridges (who, now that I’m considering this question, may have the end credits song), ABBA (obvi), and the Umbrella Academy soundtrack (a helpfully diverse collection).

That said, my playlists were recently all obliterated (thoughts and prayers please) so for Chiaroscuro I primarily listened to the OFMD soundtrack. It actually worked out really well. I also got a free dose of serotonin every time I re-realized that this was the first time i had a blorbo show make a canon ship playlist.

Maybe when the fic is wrapped I’ll go through and put together a proper playlist (Menace said, boldly, as though she doesn’t just listen to the same 15 songs over and over) but for now I can tell you there is, in fact, ONE scene in the fic with an extremely and meticulously specific music cue:

[spoilers for Chiaroscuro below the cut!]

If I blocked Chapter 15 out like a movie scene, with no accounting for how long it takes to physically read the scene, then Jethro Tull’s Locomotive Breath would start at the line: “But Ed is here. Ed is here.“

That sweet little guitar lick about 0:30 in hits as Ed appears etched in shadow—then the beat picks up as Mary realizes he’s set something of a trap.

That fuzzy guitar whiiiine, of course, happens right as Anne Bonny says, “Blackbeard.” And then the beat drops.

[thebristolboard]

Best Comics of 2018

Here’s my contribution to The Comics Journal’s annual roundup. There’s lots of great lists. You should click over and read them all.

Berlin by Jason Lutes – a towering masterpiece 22-years in the making, Berlin is a high watermark for alternative literary comics and its completion feels like a significant milestone for the generation of post-Love and Rockets creators and fans who came of age in the ‘90s.

The Goat Getters by Eddie Campbell – Meticulously-researched and beautifully-designed, this is an important work of comics archaeology. Campbell sifts through the medium’s pre-history, focusing on “the missing link” between early sports cartooning and newspaper comic strips. He carefully traces this evolution, including detailed biographies of the major cartoonists (Swinnerton, Dorgan, Herriman, Fisher, Goldberg, etc.) and a lot of historical context. Not a light read, but definitely worth the effort.

The Troublemakers by Baron Yoshimoto, edited by Ryan Holmberg – If you aren’t following Ryan Holmberg’s work, you’re missing out on one of the best critic/historians in the game. Holmberg is an expert in alt-manga and his translation projects are always worth looking at. This year he edited or otherwise contributed to four collections with several different publishers. I still haven’t read Slum Wolf but of the other three (including Fukushima Devil Fish and Vérité 01), this was the standout, with six short stories from the ‘70s and ‘80s by Yoshimoto, a manga master I was previously unfamiliar with. Holmberg’s books also include insightful essays focused on the artist which adds to the appreciation and understanding of the works reproduced.

Frontier #17 by Lauren Weinstein – This memoir about pregnancy and childbirth is simply a beautiful comic, unflinchingly honest. Weinstein is not afraid to be naked on the page, both literally and figuratively, and never shies away from baring her soul. It’s definitely the best issue of Frontier to date and ranks high among Weinstein’s best works.

Hieronymus & Bosch by Paul Kirchner – From the creator of High Times’s “Dope Rider” and Heavy Metal’s “The Bus” strips, this latest book is a collection of silent comics set in Hell. Perfectly timed gags, often ending in the protagonist’s torment, are mixed with a healthy dose of dark humor. This is perhaps Kirchner’s best work. Plus it’s full color!

Blammo #10 and One Dirty Tree by Noah Van Sciver – Van Sciver’s work turned more personal this past year, revealing intimate details about his family life, relationships, and Mormon upbringing. At the same time, his storytelling, artwork, and especially his use of color have grown more confident and attractive. 

Mort Cinder by Héctor Germán Oesterheld and Alberto Breccia – Following Fantagraphics’ translation of Oesterheld and Solano López’s masterpiece, The Eternaut, a few years ago, this gorgeously reproduced translation of one of the greatest Argentinian comics ever is the first of several planned volumes in the Breccia Library. Breccia’s chiaroscuro brushwork is exquisite throughout as he dissects various historical eras from ancient Greece to World War I.

Coin-Op Comics Anthology by Peter and Maria Hoey – You don’t usually hear comics described as aerodynamic but this collection of short strips by the brother and sister duo is filled with sharp angles and sleek curves. The comics draw heavily on the siblings’ graphic design experience, giving the entire book a glossy magazine-like quality, but each strip is filled with clever film-inspired visual experiments.

Flem by Rebecca Rosen – An impressive debut graphic novel about assisted suicide and mother/daughter relationships. Rosen’s art has some similarities with Dash Shaw’s work, but her creative page layouts and expressive coloring portend great things to come. Definitely an artist to keep an eye on.

Ice Cream Man by W. Maxwell Prince and Martín Morazzo – One of my favorite Image books in a long time. Each issue of this series is a loosely-connected one-off tale of suburban horror. Martín Morazzo’s style is reminiscent of Frank Quitely and Prince’s scripts are sparse, thought-provoking gems.

Honorable mentions: Sabrina by Nick Drnaso, The Beef by David Hine and Shaky Kane, X-Men: Grand Design and Second Genesis by Ed Piskor, Black Panther by Ta-Nehisi Coates, Brian Stelfreeze, et al., All the Sad Songs by Summer Pierre, Tongues by Anders Nilsen, Ensemble by Maxime Gérin, Amnesia by Al Columbia, and The Nib #1, the first print edition of the popular web-comic.

Finally, because nobody should limit themselves to new stuff only, here’s the ten best older comics and related stuff I read in 2018:

The Ten Cent Plague: The Great Comic Book Scare and How It Changed America by David Hajdu – a fantastic and well-researched look back at the history of censorship and fetishism in early comics that led up to Wertham’s Seduction of the Innocent.

Hostage by Guy Delisle – Delisle’s best maybe ever, certainly since Pyongyang. This should have been on my best of list last year.

March Books 1-3 by John Lewis and Nate Powell – I read all three books to my 6th grade son this year and we were both blown away. John Lewis is a true American hero and I’m grateful that he chose to write his memoirs in graphic novel form.

Annie Sullivan and the Trials of Helen Keller by Joe Lambert – this was the third time I read this one and it’s still great; one of the most under-rated graphic novels in recent memory.

Sentences: The Life of MF Grimm by Percy Carey and Ron Wimberly – I had the pleasure of interviewing Ron on a panel at SPX this year and it was the perfect excuse to revisit this outstanding memoir about hip hop and gang culture.

Jar of Fools by Jason Lutes – I re-read this after finishing Berlin. It remains one of my all-time favorite graphic novels.

The Eternaut by F. Solano Lopez and Héctor Germán Oesterheld – I actually like this book better than Mort Cinder, but both are masterpieces. And Fantagraphics hit it out of the park on the design and slipcase packaging. Arsene Schrauwen by Olivier Schrauwen – I missed the boat on this book when it came out, but I’m really glad I went back and read it. Outstanding art with a creepy dreamlike story. I’m looking forward to checking out Parallel Lives soon.

2001 Nights by Yukinobu Hoshino – I love this hard sci-fi manga series so much, I wrote an appreciation for The Comics Journal about it.

Fantastic Four Visionaries: John Byrne vol. 3-6 – I collected these off the stands back in the ‘80s and am amazed how well they hold up. I think this is Byrne’s best work for Marvel, even surpassing his X-Men run (and let’s also not forget Namor).

[dire-vulture]

How they came to Florabrisa (page 1)

I suddenly started thinking about like... the various ways dragons came to live in my clan and started writing up little paragraphs for each dragon. I figured it would make sense to start with Page One (and also it was easier since these are the dragons I’ve had the longest and for the most part have put the most thought into!) I did them in the same order they are in my lair, though that did cause some of the blurbs working better with knowledge gained from following blurbs... Particularly Acantha, Kyurem, and Zaffre ideally would be listed in the reverse order, but I don’t wanna switch their spots in my lair fdaffdg

Very long post, so I’ll do a read more.

Tarragon is one of Florabrisa's four founders, and the one who came up with the idea to found Florabrisa in the first place.  After being in shadow for most of his life, he returned to Wind, his birth place. Before he met Moraine, he started a garden in the middle of nowhere that he would come to visit and take care of occasionally. Along the way he met Tamarind, who fell in love with Tarragon’s garden. The two generally took care of it in shifts and lead their own lives as Tarragon moved into Moraine’s lair and married her after a couple years together. Over time, Tarragon found himself yearning to spend more and more time at his little garden, but it was increasingly difficult as he and especially Moraine were still tied down to her clan many miles away. He often ended up staying with his garden for extended periods of time without his wife, but he didn't like being so far away from her and eventually, at a time when Tarragon, Moraine, Zaffre, and Tamarind were all present, brought up the idea of starting a lair in that spot. And after some debate, a lot of setting up, and establishing connections with nearby clans, the four dragons were able to start Florabrisa.

Moraine is a founding member of Florabrisa, but she was the most hesitant of the four. She loved and supported her husband's endeavors and knew his hidden garden was important to not just him, but the other three as well. But she was a professional chef and after quite a few years working as a prep cook then line cook in various kitchens, she felt she'd finally found a restaurant that really appreciated her talents and  maybe she had a good chance to be able to take over herself... in a few decades. But it was hard to deny she was overworked and stressed. She normally would be able to handle it and had been in worse jobs before, but with Tarragon’s new idea, she had a lot on her mind and it affected her work. Not to mention, she and Tarragon did want to have children soon, so she’d need to go on leave for that anyway. It would be a beautiful area to raise children and if she changed her mind, moving back to her clan wouldn’t be that hard. And in her own lair, while there’d be no paycheck, she could bake and cook what she wanted, at her own pace. There wouldn’t any bosses or customers to deal with. So Moraine came around to the idea and founded Florabrisa with her husband and friends.

Keiji's parents, Mooncure and Spiritdawn, were good friends of Tarragon and Moraine. They wanted to leave the Southern Icefield for good and were eager to check out their friends' new clan. Unfortunately, due to inclement weather, the pair did not survive the trip. During the fatal trip, Their 1-year-old Keiji had been left in the care of a couple dragons in their ice lair. When news of the deaths reached the clans, the dragons of the ice clan gave Tarragon and Moraine custody of Keiji, as his parents would likely have wanted. Keiji was given the surname Moonspirit to honor his parents.

Paragon is Tarragon's younger brother and it was always evident their parents favored Paragon, who was bigger, stronger, and pushier than his small, gentle brother. So Paragon was absolutely floored and a bit jealous when he heard Tarragon started his own clan. If his simple and naive brother could do it, then surely Paragon could also start his own lair. Well... Paragon failed quite badly. Dragons wouldn’t stay by his side, and he wouldn’t stay by other dragons’ sides. His fortune telling wasn’t going very well either and every few months he found himself kicked out of each clan he stayed at. Too ashamed to go back to his parents, he ended up coming to Tarragon who he knew would accept him with open arms.

Even at a very young age, Macaroon never felt like she belonged in her coatl-only birthclan. When she heard of her clan having a new trade partner, a clan named Florabrisa, filled with tundras, she leapt at the chance to visit. She loved it there so much that she begged all the adults to let her stay. She also took her baby sister Valencia since the two were inseparable.

Bibelot is one of Tarragon and Moraine's twin daughters and was hatched in Florabrisa about a year after its founding.

Chiaroscuro is one of Tarragon and Moraine's twin daughters and was hatched in Florabrisa about a year after its founding.

Cherrytide was very young when she ended up in an ice clan. She didn't like being in the Southern Icefield and ran off to find her charge well before the expected age. Early in her journey she encounter Luckypheel, a young guardian in a similar situation, and the two bonded. Not long after, Luckypheel's mother Zaffre came after her lost daughter to bring her back home. Lucky wanted to continue her journey, so Zaffre ended up bringing her to Cherry's ice clan, and then brought Cherry back home to Florabrisa. Cherry thought it’d be one stop of many, but then she met Chiaroscuro and immediately felt protecting her was her purpose in life.

Tamarind is a founding member of Florabrisa. A Guardian born in Nature, his Search lead him to Wind where he felt the area's species of flora constituted his charge. He soon met and bonded with Tarragon over their love of flowers, and when Tarragon started his secret garden, Tamarind was particularly attached and often took care of it when Tarragon couldn’t be there. His life mission was protecting this garden. At some point, Tarragon and Moraine married and introduced Tamarind to Zaffre, who quickly fell in love. He and his future wife eventually were staying at the garden more often than their actual homes. When Tarragon suggested starting a lair, Tamarind was ecstatic. He wanted to spend entire life there with his three best friends!

Pelagos is the son of Tamarind and Zaffre and was hatched in Florabrisa shortly after its founding.

Throughout her long life, Acantha traveled Sornieth to fight for justice where it was needed. Somewhere along the way she met and became close to Kyurem, and the two came to think of each other as siblings. Though often geographically far apart, they kept in touch via letters. Some years after Kyurem joined Florabrisa, Acantha felt it was time to slow down so she followed suit, to spend her retirement with Kyurem.

Kyurem knew Zaffre a long time before she founded Florabrisa. The two were good friends and eventually started dating and had a single daughter, Clash. However, the stress of raising a child proved to be a bit more than Kyurem was ready for and while they never shirked their duties as father, they realized they had fallen out of love with Zaffre and needed to put the relationship on hold. They still loved her as a friend and continued to raise their child together for a bit, but the two split up and then took turns raising Clash separately the following years. When Florabrisa was founded, Kyurem came by for their turn to watch Clash but Zaffre invited them to stay as the new clan really needed members and it would be nice if they were raising their daughter closer together. So Kyurem stayed.

Zaffre is a founding member of Florabrisa. She was born in Plague and though she thrived as a survivalist, she always felt alone and not quite right living there. She had a difficult time connecting with others and became such a loner that most dragons didn’t even notice when she left her birth clan. She always dreamt of starting a lair that could be a place where dragons could simply exist, where there wasn't constant pressure to fight for survival, unlike in Plague. She traveled Sornieth and met and befriended many dragons and clans, but never felt she truly found her home until she arrived in Wind. She eventually met Tarragon and Moraine who would go on to introduce her to Tamarind. Soon married and having eggs, she was thrilled when Tarragon mentioned the idea of starting a lair at the garden. It was the perfect place and absolutely where she wanted to stay and build her dream clan. Zaffre, eager to start building and contracting dragons to join the lair, was undoubtedly the one who worked the hardest to make Florabrisa happen. (Though all four worked pretty dang hard!!)

Falcata was kicked out of his Water home by his parents when he turned 18, thinking this would give him incentive to not be a deadbeat and make something of himself. He found himself straying southward through Wind, managing to draw ire at whatever lair he tried staying at along the way. He was in pretty rough shape by the time he reached Florabrisa, but Tarragon and Zaffre were happy to welcome him in and let him go about things at his own pace.

On top of leading very busy lives, Alcatraz and Flicker were still reeling from the loss of close clanmates Mooncure and Spiritdawn when they hatched their first egg, the fiery Nocturne, Wick. Since Florabrisa seemed to be raising Keiji so well, the new parents decided to have the dragons there babysit Wick, often for extended periods of time. The periods of time seemed to get longer and longer until Wick (and his younger sister) was by all accounts living in Florabrisa full time. As far as Wick is concerned, Clash and the other care-taking dragons of Florabrisa are his parents.

Artichoke came to Florabrisa soon after it’s official start. When Florabrisa was in it’s earliest stages, it was quickly evident foraging alone wouldn't be enough to sustain the lair's food intake. Zaffre put out an ad for farmers in need of space to farm and young Articoke and his wife Calabasas were the first to respond. Tarragon already vaguely knew of the couple as Wind locals and knew they’d be a great fit for the lair, so of course they were welcomed with open arms.

Calabasas came to Florabrisa soon after it’s official start. When Florabrisa was in it’s earliest stages, it was quickly evident foraging alone wouldn't be enough to sustain the lair's food intake. Zaffre put out an ad for farmers in need of space to farm and young Calabasas and her husband Artichoke were the first to respond. Tarragon already vaguely knew of the couple as Wind locals and knew they’d be a great fit for the lair, so of course they were welcomed with open arms.

Nutshell followed his younger half-sister Millie to Florabrisa after hearing about its great farming opportunities. And local legends* Artichoke and Calabasas living there! *legends in his heart. Florabrisa doesnt do a lot of trading, but sometimes his clan did get fruit and veggies from Florabrisa and he was smitten....

Millisievert was a young teen when she felt she needed a change in scenery and found herself drawn to that weird nearby clan of bountiful gardens. She wanted to be a part of that beauty and perhaps is second only to Tarragon and Tamarind in nurturing the lair’s gardens.

Asterina was born in Arcane, but their clan-leading parents moved to Wind not long after their hatching. They didn’t like the attention that came with being a child of clan progens and had heard that some dragons of their clan were heading off to a fairly new nearby clan. They wanted to go investigate, and once that new clan was finally establishing itself, they came to live in Florabrisa.

[cinful-stories]

Beethoven’s 5th Symphony in C Minor (Robert x MC)

Angst? Angst. 

No warnings! Thanks for reading!

I press my ear to the door, waiting for the music just as Giles had said. “Be gentle enough not to alert him of your presence. An artist can become quite temperamental when disturbed.”  

I swallow hard on the lump forming in my throat. My eyes burn. I am too afraid to blink and interrupt his thoughts with the fluttering of my lashes. There was only silence hanging deftly in the air, and I began to believe he was absent from his studio until I heard the arm of the record player settle on a disc.   

“There’s a pattern of symphonies, my dear,” Giles had said, grinning at me with sympathetic eyes and a chagrined smile. “Chopin’s Nocturne op. 9 no. 2 is safe, as is Debussy’s Clair de Lune. Those are better days for him.”

“And Mozart’s Paris Symphony?” I asked, offering up the only knowledge of symphonies I had acquired from dancing lessons with Louis. 

Giles’s countenance fell grim. “Oh, definitely not. Entrance is not an option if you hear that one. He’s either received very unfortunate news or ran out of his morning tea.” 

There were many times when I did leave. The Paris Symphony was almost always on these days, ringing throughout the halls like a haunting melody--a reminder of his suffering. My heart would ache for him as the song played, sometimes for days on end. Those were the days when I considered knocking on his studio door but decided against it. Those were also the days were I felt the most guilty and had trouble sleeping, but it was for the best. 

Robert Branche liked to grieve in privacy. After his hibernation was over, there was no mention of it. Memories of a time spent in sadness were locked away somewhere in his brilliant mind, never to be reopened in front of anyone. Being in love with someone was already a difficult task, but being in love with Robert was even harder. 

The music begins to play at a deafening volume. It is one I am unfamiliar with, and I remain at my post, wracking my brain for what little knowledge I have concerning symphony composers. The jarring striking of fingers against the piano keys sound like gunshots. Violin strings hiss in agony while bows scrape across them like a knife on a cutting board. 

I recognize it. Beethoven’s 5th Symphony in C Minor. 

“Shit,” I mutter, clenching my hands into fists. I recall my conversation with Giles. 

“That’s the only piece you must never enter when hearing it played. Robert is a mild-mannered and patient man, but do not mistake his restrained demeanor for an absence of rage. His fury is unrivaled by any tempest, unable to be calmed. Your presence will only make matters worse.”

I release a trembling sigh. Months of living in the castle have gone by, and not once have I not heeded Giles’s advice; however, today is an exception. Robert had summoned me to his studio. 

I consider leaving. He had not noticed my presence, and it would be easy to pretend that I had fallen ill. In fact, there was an arsenal of excuses at my fingertips that I could use at any time. I decide it is in my best interest to vacate the premises.

“You can come inside, you know.”

Robert’s flat voice strikes me in the gut. Air decompresses out of my lungs so quickly that I have a coughing fit and have to stabilize myself against the door frame. There is no avoiding it now. My hand wrestles with the brass doorknob, warm and clammy, until it twists. I am surprised by what I find inside. 

“My God, Robert, what happened in here?”

It’s the perfect murder scene, but the blood is tempera paint and the bodies are shredded canvases. A conglomeration of colors blends together in puddles, coating the surface of the hardwood floor in a rainbow of dripping paint. Brushes are strewn across his desk, snapped in half into wooden shanks. 

His hazel orbs never meet mine. They linger on the catastrophe around him. “I happened.” A look of utter dismay is stitched onto his face. His clothes are disheveled and bare an abstract pattern of stains. I cannot tell if they are from paint or other sources.

“You did this?” My voice peters out to a hushed whisper. I step closer to the wounded artist, wading through the sea of paint that laps at my ankles. “But why?”

One painting remains in front of Robert. It sits anxiously on its easel, afraid to join the others that had been torn to shreds or ripped down from the walls. The color scheme is bleak but stark in contrast. Chiaroscuro was an element of art used often by Robert that showcased abrupt transitions of dark to light, black to white. I had never seen it used to aggressively before. There is a lot of texture visible in the painting. Glops of undried paint leak down. Contoured lines coat the canvas, and one can clearly see where his wild brushstrokes had struck it over and over. I am unsure of what the image was supposed to be, but my immediate thoughts are of seething rage. 

“I’m not meant to be here, Princess,” he sighs. “I’ve been living at the palace for so long, leeching off of Giles’s kindness when I do absolutely nothing to repay him.” He tugs on his hair. The blonde mane is mangy and tangled with dried paint. “Sure, I’m a decent artist, but I serve no purpose to benefit him or anybody else for that matter. I do nothing but paint these wretched pictures for people and use up your time by making you sit for portrait after portrait when you could be doing other things like running a country! I serve no benefit to you either.”

At this moment, his eyes lock on mine. They are desperate and glittering with more colors than are present on the floor. His hands grab my shoulders roughly. 

“You are so fortunate, you know that?”

I nod hesitantly. “Y-Yes, Robert. I’m very grateful for being in the position that I am. I’ve always said that.”

“Yes, I know that, dear. That’s why you deserve every bit of this life. You’re kind, diligent, charitable, respectful. A beautiful, mature woman with sex appeal that drives men utterly mad with lust. You’ve only been Princess Elect for a few months but, by God, you’re already a queen in my mind.”

A blush paints my face a deep crimson. I am unable to move from his commanding grasp. His face, lost in darkness, inches closer to mine until his forehead presses hard against my own. The pain swimming in his eyes is clear. 

“You have learned so much in your short time here. Giles, Leo, Louis, Alyn--hell, even Nico teaches you things of value. They pour so much of their energy into you and have shaped you to be a fantastic ruler for Wysteria. But what have I taught you, Princess? Tell me what I have contributed to your life here.”

I am rendered speechless. My mouth hangs open, still reeling over his acknowledgement of my sex appeal. 

“See?” he cries, laughing cynically. “I’ve taught you nothing. Nothing except how to shut out your feelings. I’ve taught you to fear me when I’m sad, when I’m angry.”

“Robert, stop,” I demand, twisting away from his grip. He quickly brings me to his chest, holding my face against his breast. His heart pounds against my ears and almost drowns out the screeching music.

“Don’t you get it? I can’t stop. I can’t stop feeling this way, and I sure as hell can’t stop myself from wanting to do this.” He gestures to his arms wrapped tightly around my spine. “I can’t stop feeling like I want to touch you and ravish you, even though I know I don’t deserve to see you in that way. You don’t want to be around me, and I don’t blame you. I could never love someone like me. At least not in the way that I love you.”

“Robert, don’t say things like that!” I protest, tears welling up in my eyes. “Of course I love you!” Hearing my own voice form the words I had been wrestling to say for months is a foreign concept to me, but it feels right. Especially in a moment when he obviously needed to hear it.

He pauses in his outpouring, a wave of shock washing over his face. It quickly fades into inward conflict.

“Oh yeah?” he barks, pushing past me and marching toward the door. Paint sloshes onto his shoes and splatters against the hem of his pants. He slams the door shut. The din clatters down the hall, and I shudder in fear. “Then why didn’t you come inside?” 

His voice trembles then. The anger melts into sorrow and suffering. Tears begin to stream down his face as he slides down to the floor, knees tucked up to his sternum. 

“You never came inside. You never came to see me. Why didn’t you?” he whimpers. “I asked for you.”

I shatter into pieces. For months I have been warned not to disturb the artist in his time of pain, that he preferred the isolation, the lockdown. The picture of the broken man sobbing before me tells me otherwise, and I cannot help but feel responsible for not acting on my impulses to visit him during the late hours when the Paris Symphony played. He didn’t need silence. 

He needed me. 

Without a word, I walk toward the crumpled artist. I sink to the ground beside him, ignoring the damp paint soaking into my dress, and nestle my head into the curve of his neck. His blonde hair hangs in my face, and his body rocks as he cries. I allow him the right to cry and give him time before speaking again. 

“Do you know why I didn’t come inside?” I ask. I feel him shudder, stifling a sniffle. He shakes his head, and I continue. “I thought that I was doing you a favor by letting you grieve in peace. I thought that I was being a friend to you by letting you process your pain in your own ways, even if I disagreed with those ways. I wanted to honor your privacy and respect your space, but I see now that I should’ve paid more attention. I needed to open my eyes, Robert, and be here for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t.” I am crying now, tears spilling down my face and intermingling with his. “I’m so sorry.”

We stay like that for a spell and watch the sun set through the open window of his studio through blurry eyes. 

“I love you,” he whispers into my hair. “I love you so much.” He is a broken man before me.

I cradle his hands in mine. “I love you too, Robert. We’re going to fix this, you and me.”

He nods and weeps harder. I do not know how to remedy his turmoil, and somewhere deep within me, I know it is something beyond my control. Giles was right: nothing can calm him. But I want to try. 

Robert settles down in my lap, the back of his head pressing against my abdomen. My fingers comb through his locks, attempting to break apart the paint intertwined in them. As we sit in his studio, the paint dries around us and on us, anchoring our limbs to our spot on the ground. In the background, Beethoven’s 5th Symphony in C Minor drones on, smothering the sounds of our grief. 

[equalstrashflavoredtrash]

Top 10 favourite words

Alright, i know a bunch of these are art words… but all favorite words to say and use. (also i added a senstance i wrote using the words for fun. for most of them

In alphabetical order:

Chiaroscuro - n. the treatment of light and shade in drawing and painting.

The scenery was hypnotizing and unfamiliar. Never before had he been so drawn into an image like he was by the chiaroscuro landscape before him.

Coagulated - v. (of a fluid, especially blood) change to a solid or semisolid state.

The coagulated blood was sticky, having pooled and dried on the concrete underneath her head in the time that she had spent unconscious. 

Contrapposto - n. an asymmetrical arrangement of the human figure in which the line of the arms and shoulders contrasts with while balancing those of the hips and legs.

He stood contrapposto, left hip jutting out while his right shoulder rested against the molding of the door frame.

Emanate - v. (of something abstract but perceptible) issue or spread out from (a source)

Their joy was obvious and radiant, emanating from between them to infect everything around them.

Exalted - adj. (of a person or their rank or status) placed at a high or powerful level; held in high regard.

Though they were truly peers, he ruled over the other members of the AV club like an exalted prince with godly heritage. 

Haberdashery - n. the goods and wares sold by a haberdasher. (a hat maker)

Lament - n./v. a passionate expression of grief or sorrow **possibly my favorite word of all time** 

“This house is a hole that you could never fill,” she lamented before turning her back on him for the final time.

Moratorium - n. a temporary prohibition of an activity

It was in that second he realized he’d gone to far. Seeing someone in pain from his foolish actions only emphasized the obvious truth he’d been ignoring; The way he was living his life was no ok, and a moratorium was needed.

Sfumato - n. the technique of allowing tones and colors to shade gradually into one another, producing softened outlines or hazy forms.

The smoke obscured her vision, reminding her vaguely of the sfumato in Caravaggio’s paintings–the way there still seemed to be life in the darker parts of the image just past where she could see. 

Plutoid - n. a body orbiting beyond Neptune that is massive enough to be rounded in shape that is not large enough to be a planet.

Sitting in the bleachers the girl watched her friends dance at the school social. She felt a like a lone plutoid, drifting on the edge of solar system, not enough to be a planet but still more than an asteroid. 

Honorable mentions: Claymore, Pontoon, Epee, Queue, Adjourned, Geyser

[somervta]

15, 24, 25 Also: best paper you read this year

What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Meeting new people, making really good friends, and giving them gifts :)

What was the best book you read?

Since I failed at my resolution to read a lot more nonfiction books, this is mostly fiction (fanfic). The best one I read was probably a reread, so  this category will only contain honorable mentions:Honorable Mentions: Dreaming of Sunshine & Chiaroscuro, UNSONG, Constellations (AO3), Lady Archimedes

What was your greatest musical discovery?

This is really hard and more recency-biased, but I think 36 Questions?

Best paper I read this year:

How broad and different the papers I read are makes this really tough. I’m going to be boring and say Laszlo Babai’s Graph Isopmorphism in Quasipolynomial Time for math. Honorable Mention to Logical Induction for how long I spent on it and the effects that working through it had on my abilities, to Eugene Volohk and Dale Carpenter’s Masterpiece Cakeshop brief, and to Joe Miller on IP citation

[mozgoderina]

15 Things You Should Know About Goya's The Third of May 1808 (Mental Floss)

Spanish Romantic Francisco Goya was the court artist to the Spanish crown through highs and lows. Yet it isn't portraits of royalty for which he is best remembered, but for his brutal and moving masterpiece The Third of May 1808.

1. The painting commemorates a dark moment in Spanish history.

In 1807, Napoleon Bonaparte's forces crossed the Pyrenees into allied Spain under the pretext of invading Portugal. Once in place, the infamous French emperor began to take control of regions of Spain. When he realized what was happening, King Charles IV attempted to flee to South America. But before he could, he was forced by angry citizens to abdicate in favor of his son, Ferdinand VII. Sensing an opportunity, Napoleon invited both Charles and Ferdinand to France. Fearing their leaders would be executed, the people of Spain rose up against the army, and were brutally suppressed. It is this suppression that is detailed in The Third of May 1808.

Two days later, Napoleon forced both kings to abdicate in favor of himself, and would ultimately install his brother Joseph as Spain’s new monarch. Rather than being executed, Ferdinand VII was imprisoned for 6 years before he was allowed to reclaim Spain's throne.

2. The Third of May 1808 is known by several names.

There are variant titles, including The Shootings of May 3, The Third of May 1808 in Madrid, or The Executions. Sometimes named for the location on which it is staged, the painting has also been called The Shootings on the Príncipe Pío Hill. Its grandest title is The Third of May, 1808: The Execution of the Defenders of Madrid.

3. It has a prequel companion piece.

Completed two months before its more iconic cousin, The Second of May 1808 depicts the actual day of revolt known as Dos de Mayo Uprising. While this work showed Spanish civilians in a moment of victory, The Third of May 1808 presented the French response the following day, when Napoleon's soldiers slaughtered hundreds of Spaniards in one cruel, dark night.

4. It can be read as an apology from Goya.

During the tumultuous French occupation, Goya maintained his position as the court's painter, meaning he had to swear an oath of loyalty to usurper Joseph Bonaparte. When the French where finally expelled from Spain in February of 1814, Goya asked the nation's provisionary government to "perpetuate by means of his brush the most notable and heroic actions of our glorious insurrection against the Tyrant of Europe,” which led to the commission of this pair of paintings.

5. The Third of May 1808 received negative reviews.

The daring artistic choices in the piece earned critics’ scorn. Goya broke from tradition by presenting his war heroes in a less than epic fashion, allowing the Spanish civilians to look like a bramble of humanity. He also included blood, an unpopular device in history paintings of the 19th century. Others docked the piece for its flat perspective and unrealistic staging.

6. Christian iconography contributes to its emotional weight.

While Goya rejected the tradition of making his subjects beautiful in their heroism, he embraced the chance to make them divine. Notice how the man at the painting’s center raises his hands in a pose similar to Jesus hanging from the cross. And if you look closely, you'll notice that like Jesus, this man has a wound on his right hand, reminiscent of stigmata. In this context, these Spanish rebels are presented as martyrs who died in love and service to their homeland.

7. The use of the lantern is subversive.

Baroque artists famously used light to symbolize the divine, but in The Third of May 1808, a radiant lantern is the tool that allows the French soldiers to carry out their bloody business before the sun comes up.

8. It's believed to be anti-war.

The blood, the men weeping for their lives, and the soon-to-be shot figure with his arms outstretched all contribute to the notion that Goya wanted to present battle as horrible, not noble. While respecting his fellow Spaniards who died in the effort to liberate the city, he makes war and its casualties look grotesque. The soldiers killing unarmed men are turned away so that the viewer cannot connect to them. War—according to Goya—is darkness.

Or as 20th century art critic Robert Hughes wrote, "Most of the victims have faces. The killers do not. This is one of the most often-noted aspects of the Third of May, and rightly so: with this painting, the modern image of war as anonymous killing is born, and a long tradition of killing as ennobled spectacle comes to its overdue end."

9. It's bigger than you might think.

The Third of May 1808 measures in at 8 feet, 9 inches by 11 feet, 4 inches. The Second of May 1808 matches its size.

10. Both pieces were damaged in another Spanish war.

The damage didn’t happen during battle, either. In a bid to protect the paintings, The Second and The Third were being transported to Valencia and then ultimately to Geneva via truck during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939), when a road accident wounded both works. A keen eye can spot the damage on the lower left hand corner of The Third of May 1808.

11. This marked a turning point in Goya's style.

The French occupation made a deep impact on the painter. While he'd supported the French Revolution, he was scarred by the horrors and subjugation he witnessed during the French occupation. While his works had previously shown an interest in social and political commentary (including his Caprichos series), art historians have noted that his work grew darker in both color and content beginning with these paired rebellion paintings.

12. Nobody knows when the public first saw The Third of May 1808.

Historians have found no references from 1814 that detail the painting’s debut. However, this gap in the historical record may have stemmed from Spain’s reigning king, Ferdinand VII, not being a fan of the work and its sentiment. The monarch had actually put a stop to plans to build a monument in commemoration of the uprising's fallen.

13. It has since found a proud home in Madrid.

Some historians speculate that the painting spent up to 30 years in royal hands (or royal storage), before being gifted to Madrid’s Museo del Prado sometime between its opening in 1819 and 1845, when art critic Théophile Gautier mentioned it being “relegated without honor to the antechamber” of the Prado. The first official record of the work in the museum's published catalog is dated 1872. But in 2009, Prado declared the painting one of the most important in its collection, leading to its posting on Google Earth with a resolution of 14,000 megapixels.

14. The Third of May 1808 inspired other acclaimed artists.

Both Edouard Manet's Execution of Emperor Maximilian and Pablo Picasso's Massacre in Korea show influences from Goya's disturbing depiction of war. In 2006, this connection was celebrated with a special exhibition at the Prado.

15. It has become one of the most admired paintings of war.

Compared to Picasso's Guernica for its fearless depiction of the brutality of war, The Third of May 1808's estimation has only grown in the art world. Once sneered at for its departures from convention, today its blend of Christian iconography, its emotional chiaroscuro, and its influence on fine art and popular art have helped establish its reputation as a groundbreaking masterpiece. Or as art historian Kenneth Clark puts it, "[The Third of May 1808 is] the first great picture which can be called revolutionary in every sense of the word, in style, in subject, and in intention."

  Source: Mental Floss / Kristy Puchko. Link: 15 Things You Should Know About Goya's The Third of May 1808 Illustration: Francisco de Goya y Lousientes [Spain] (1746-1828). 'El tres de mayo de 1808 en Madrid', detail, 1814. Oil on canvas (268 × 347 cm). Moderator: ART HuNTER.

[pamphletstoinspire]

Saint Bridget of Sweden - Feast Day: October 8th - Latin Calendar

Saint Bridget of Sweden - Religious, founder, Patroness of Sweden, Mother of Saint Catherine, Co-Patroness of Europe

Birgitta Birgersdotter (1303—23 July 1373) was a mystic and saint, and founder of the Bridgettine Order after the death of her husband of twenty years. She was also the mother of a saint—Saint Catherine of Vadstena.

She is one of the six patron saints of Europe, together with Saint Benedeict of Nursia, Saints Cyril and Methodius, Saint Catherine of Siena and Saint Teresia Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein). Life

The most celebrated saint of Swede was the daughter of Birger Persson of the family of Finsta, governor and lawspeaker of Uppland, and one of the richest landowners of the country, and his wife, a member of the so-called Lawspeaker branch of the Folkunga family. Through her mother, young Birgitta was a relation of the Swedish kings of her lifetime.

In 1316, when she was 13 she married ULF Gudmarsson of the family of Ulvåsa, lord of Närke, to whom she bore eight children, four daughters and four sons. All of them survived infancy, which was very rare at that time. One of them was afterwards honored as St. Catherine of Sweden. Birgitta’s saintly and charitable life soon made her known far and wide; she gained, too, great religious influence over her husband, with whom (1341-1343) she went on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.

In 1344, shortly after their return, ULF died in the Cistercian monastery of Alvastra Abbey in Östergötland, and Birgitta then devoted herself wholly to religion.

It was about this time that she founded the Order of the Holy Saviour, or the Brigittines, of which the principal house at Vadstena was richly endowed by King Magnus Eriksson of Sweden and his queen.

About 1350 she went to Rome, partly to obtain from the pope authorization of the new order and partly in pursuance of her self-imposed mission to elevate the moral tone of the age. It was not until 1370 that Pope Urban V confirmed the rule of her order, but meanwhile Birgitta had made herself universally beloved in Rome by her kindness and good works. Save for occasional pilgrimages, including one to Jerusalem in 1373, she remained in Rome until her death on 23 July 1373. She was originally buried at San Lorenzo in Panisperna before being moved to Sweden. She was canonized in the year 1391 by Pope Boniface IX, and confirmed by the Council of Constance in 1415. Because of new discussions about her works, the Council of Basel confirmed the orthodoxy of the revelations in 1436.

Visions

As a child, she had already believed herself to have visions; these now became more frequent, and her records of these "Revelationes coelestes" ("Celestial revelations") which were translated into Latin by Matthias, canon of Linköping, and by her confessor, Peter, prior of Alvastra, obtained a great vogue during the Middle Ages. Her Visions of the Nativity of Jesus had a great influence on depictions of the Nativity of Jesus in art. Shortly before her death, she described a vision which included the infant Jesus as lying on the ground, and emitting light himself, and describes the Virgin as blond-haired; many depictions followed this and reduced other light sources in the scene to emphasize this effect, and the Nativity remained very commonly treated with chiaroscuro through to the Baroque. Other details often seen such as a single candle "attached to the wall," and the presence of God the Father above, also come from Bridget’s vision:

...the virgin knelt down with great veneration in an attitude of prayer, and her back was turned to the manger… And while she was standing thus in prayer, I saw the child in her womb move and suddenly in a moment she gave birth to her son, from whom radiated such an ineffable light and splendor, that the sun was not comparable to it, nor did the candle that St. Joseph had put there, give any light at all, the divine light totally annihilating the material light of the candle… I saw the glorious infant lying on the ground naked and shining. His body was pure from any kind of soil and impurity. Then I heard also the singing of the angels, which was of miraculous sweetness and great beauty…

After this the Virgin kneels to pray to her child, to be joined by St. Joseph, and this (technically known as the Adoration of the Child) becomes one of the commonest depictions in the fifteenth century, largely replacing the reclining Virgin in the West. Versions of this depiction occur as early as 1300, well before Bridget’s vision, and have a Franciscan origin, by which she may have been influenced.

Her visions of purgatory were also well known.

The Fifteen 'Our Father and Hail Mary Prayers'

Saint Bridget prayed for a long time to know how many blows Jesus Christ suffered during His terrible Passion. Rewarding her patience, one day he appeared to her and said: "I received 5480 blows upon My Body. If you wish to honor them in some way, recite fifteen Our Fathers and fifteen Hail Marys with the following Prayers, which I Myself shall teach you, for an entire year. When the year is finished, you will have honored each of My Wounds."

The prayers became known as the Fifteen Oes, because in the original Latin, each prayer began with the words O Jesu, O Rex, or O Domine Jesu Christe. Some have questioned whether Saint Bridget is in fact their author; Eamon Duffy reports that the prayers probably originated in England, in the devotional circles that surrounded Richard Rolle or the English Brigittines.

Whatever their origin, the prayers were quite widely circulated in the late Middle Ages, and became regular features in Books of Hours and other devotional literature. They were translated into various languages; an early English language version of them was printed in a primer by William Caxton. The prayers themselves reflect the late medieval tradition of meditation on the passion of Christ, and are structured around the seven last words of Christ. They borrow from artistic and Scriptural sources as well as the tradition of devotion to the wounds of Christ.

During the Middle Ages, the prayers began to circulate with various promises of indulgence and other assurances of supernatural graces supposed to attend from their regular recitation over the course of a year. These indulgences were repeated in the manuscript tradition of the Books of Hours, and may constitute one major source of the prayers' popularity in the late Middle Ages. They promise, among other things, the release from Purgatory of fifteen of the devotee’s family members, and that they would keep fifteen living family members in a state of grace.

In 1651 the Brigitta Chapel was erected in Vienna, and in 1900 the new district Brigittenau was founded. In 1999 Pope John Paul II named St. Bridget as a patron saint of Europe. Her feast day is celebrated on 23 July, the day of her death.

Her feast was not in the Tridentine Calendar, but was later inserted in the Roman Catholic calendar of saints in 1623 for celebration of 7 October, the day she was canonized by Pope Boniface IX in the year 1391. Five years later, her feast was moved to 8 October, where it remained until the revision of the Roman Catholic Calendar of Saints in 1969. Some continue to use the pre-1970.

Below you can download a copy of the prayers mentioned in this story:

Twelve Year Prayers of St. Bridget of Sweden

Image is of St. Bridget giving rule to her order.

[geniusorinsanity]

@dexsnursey tagged me for the fic writer’s self rec because like...i guess she wants me to choose between my children? which is just mean honestly? BUT WHATEVER OK Y’ALL ARE WOLVES I’LL JUST CRY

“Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers (◠‿◠✿)”

*note: these are in no particular order? just, like, five faves. so. 

1) chiaroscuro (pre-nursey/dex; nursey&dex&chowder friendship, t) (ao3) 

“Nu, habibi,” Derek’s mother says to him gently, as they leave the registration table. “Are you sure about this? Hockey is a rough sport. It’s going to hurt, sometimes.”

Derek, all of eight years old, squares his shoulders. “That’s okay, Ammi,” he says. “I’m not scared.”

(They warn him that hockey hurts. They don’t warn him that depression hurts worse.)

So like...anyone who follows my blog knows that I am Depressed as Fuq and also I love to project my shit onto fictional characters (Dear Derek Nurse: I’m So Sorry). This was written during a rough night, but also, like...I just have a lot of feelings about how mental health is portrayed in fic? So. (tw for depression, suicidality)

2) polyglot (nursey/dex, t) (ao3) 

Eric Bittle @omgcheckplease 10 September 2015 Apparently Nursey finished his language requirement freshman year. Good for him.

(Five languages Derek Nurse speaks, and one [thinks] he doesn’t.)

UMMMM this was basically just an excuse to a) write my multilingual Nursey headcanon, b) start to explore some of my Nursey backstory without flushing it out too much in case I wanted to change things later, and c) write Dex slowburn realizing that he is hella gay for Derek Nurse. 

3) one who can only find his way by moonlight (nursey/dex, t) (ao3) (tumblr)

The first time it happens, Derek is seven years old and having a nightmare, and in his dream, he thinks, with all of his might, I want my mom.

And then he’s not in his dream anymore.

He’s somewhere else.

This one was written for Nursey Week, and it was my first time writing magical realism in forever, and I just had, like, a shit ton of fun with it? IDK, it was great and I really liked it and I’m a huge nerd and whatever.

4) if we bite (the pain is sweet) (nursey/dex, e) (ao3)

After two and a half semesters at Samwell, Dex has gotten used to people handling their stress in weird ways. Bitty bakes up a storm, Lardo is constantly covered in what Dex really, really hopes is paint, Ransom turns into a curled-up ball of anxiety on the nearest flat surface. He gets it: people are just weird here.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t choke on his Red Bull when Nursey sighs, “God, I’m so tense right now. I just really need to suck a dick, y’know?”

(Or: five times Dex and Nursey really don’t quite know what they’re doing, and one time they’ve really, really figured it out.)

I mean how...can I not...? This was my hockey kink manifesto. I just, like. I mean. I have no idea how “haha wouldn’t it be funny if I wrote bro-jobs” turned into 55k of kink exploration that actually included, like, character development and Critical Race Discourse and like, Legitimate Feelings but. All of those things happened? I don’t know. I literally can’t tell if I’m proud or ashamed of this fic. But literally multiple people told me that there were sentences in this fic that were hotter than any sexual experience they ever had, so. That seems like a rec? 

5) streets a little kinder (when you’re home) (nursey-centric, implied pre-nursey/dex, t) (ao3) (tumblr)

Even as Derek hits the call button, he hears Dex’s voice in his head, telling him how privileged he is to be able to do this. All the same, he calls his mom, and when she picks up on the second ring, concern in her voice, he blurts out, “Can I come home for the weekend?”

If I had had the time, this fic would have been like, 20k words long, and it would have been a love letter to Derek Nurse and his relationship to NYC and his moms and his sister and his poetry and how he misses the hum of the city in his pulse when he’s at Samwell, but instead I had to cram it into just over 4k words, and I still love the shit out of this fic. I could write Nursey and his family all day, y’all. I LOVE THEM.

(honorable mentions go to: even something as pure as water, because i’m a thirsty bitch, and it drops with the gravity of rain, because it was my first fic in the fandom and i’m nostalgic.)

I tag @dizzy-redhead, @hoenursey, @ahausonfire, @omgcphee, and @sinbindos with the usual caveat that if this makes you anxious, or if you are just busy/tired/not into it you can always feel free to skip. 

[dweemeister]

Scarlet Street (1945)

Violence in American cinema during the 1930s was epitomized by gangsters and professional criminal syndicates toting Thompsons and packing pistols. Once the gangster film had been established in the imaginations of audiences, Hollywood never looked back. In the 1940s, film noir – a type of highly stylized crime drama delving into moral ambiguities and, oftentimes, featuring dishonest dames – refocused violence from those wielding it professionally to characters who might be a neighbor, a co-worker. These films showed that anyone is capable of heinous acts, and audiences flocked to these works.

German director Fritz Lang was one of the most instrumental figures in film noir, having laid the foundations in the German expressionist movement in films like M (1931, Germany). Lang, of partial Jewish heritage despite a Catholic upbringing, fled Germany to France, arriving in Hollywood in 1936. There, Lang would specialize in film noir for a majority of his American career. Scarlet Street, starring Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett, and Dan Duryea – also the lead actors in The Woman in the Window (1944; both films possess similar thematic elements) – is considered a watermark of film noir and arguably is Lang’s best American feature film. Based on Georges de La Fouchardière’s novel La Chienne (”The Bitch”), this is a work teeming with then-scandalous eroticism. Its ignoble intentions concealed by aged weariness and manufactured tenderness.

During the height of the Depression, soft-spoken and graying Christopher “Chris” Cross (Robinson) is a long-tenured cashier for a New York City retail store and a painter during his free time. Walking home after a late party honoring his twenty-five years with J.J. Hogart (Russell Hicks), he protects a woman named Kitty (Bennett), who is being harassed by a man named Johnny (Duryea). Chris and Kitty run off for a late-night coffee, strike conversation, and Kitty – who doesn’t mention that Johnny is her boyfriend – is awestruck by Chris, mistakenly believing her newest acquaintance is a wealthy man. After more lunches and dinner spent together, Chris finds himself in love with Kitty – he also fails to mention that he is in an unhappy marriage with his harridan of a wife, Adele (Rosalind Ivan). But, in collaboration with Johnny, Kitty is scheming to make a patsy out of Chris by asking for money to place a down payment on an apartment, and eventually to pass off his artisanship as her own.

Edward G. Robinson had played scowling, cigar-puffing, roughhousing gangsters in his heavily typecasted early career. His role as the eponymous Little Caesar (1931) contributed to that image that persists among fans of classic Hollywood today. But as he passed fifty years of age and no longer believable playing that youthful gangster archetype, Robinson reinvented himself to play meeker, sometimes even benevolent like in Our Vines Have Tender Grapes (1945). 

That reinvention is apparent throughout Scarlet Street, as Robinson’s physical acting details the vulnerability of his character. He needs to protect Joan Bennett’s character when Dan Duryea is attacking her – the way he approaches the fraught situation physically anticipates that Duryea will overpower him. With his back hunched reminiscent to Peter Lorre in M (1931, Germany; also a Fritz Lang film) and a gentleness to his vocal inflections, Robinson plays a man who wanders his middle-aged life unwanted, neglected outside of the workplace. “There aren't many people you can talk to this way. So you keep it to yourself. You walk around with everything bottled up,” Chris philosophizes. Chris’ longing for mutual love makes him too forgiving – even if these desires are now unspoken after years of inescapable marital frustration. The final minutes of Scarlet Street cement the mastery of this lead performance, as Robinson must carry himself as a man bankrupt, broken, and more forlorn that he could have ever imagined himself.

As a Fritz Lang stock actress, Joan Bennett has a complicated balancing act in Scarlet Street. For femme fatales, their sexuality and untrustworthiness are often entangled in film noir. Dudley Nichols’ screenplay to Scarlet Street, with the character of Kitty attempting to embezzle money from a gullible, willing-to-please man, must separate those two aspects for her performance. When sharing the screen with Chris, Kitty must express her interest in him. Whether that interest – professional, platonic, romantic, otherwise – is genuine becomes further subject to individual interpretation as the film progresses. An initial discomfort with Chris in the opening half-hour is then replaced (aided by less harsh lighting and the recurring use of “Melancholy Baby”) with relaxed smiles, adoring glances. Bennett coaxes the audience to believe that this film noir might just have a clean, uncontroversial happy ending. So when her actual intentions are discovered, her reaction – filled with invective, derisive language – is unexpectedly startling, maybe too arbitrary.

Elsewhere, Dan Duryea’s performance as the serpentine, master manipulator of a boyfriend might produce mixed feelings. With two central characters showcasing their behavioral nuances and personal development throughout, the one-note nature of Duryea is offered a disappointing amount of alteration following the film’s climax.

Fritz Lang’s Hollywood films work best when they evoke his grounding in German silent films. There, in those moments, Lang is freed from early Studio System plot-centric norms and allowed to experiment with visuals. Working with cinematographer Milton R. Krasner (1950′s All About Eve, 1954′s Three Coins in the Fountain), these silent film practices are most pronounced in the opening minutes before Chris and Kitty have midnight coffee and after the movie’s horrifying climax. An introductory scene where Chris is walking home with a coworker in the pouring rain after their workplace party fulfills that prerequisite for moody chiaroscuro (faintly recalling German expressionism) found in film noir. A courtroom scene where witnesses are testifying sees some of the fastest editing in Scarlet Street. Here, the witnesses are shot from a low angle, sitting straight in front of the camera lens, bathed in a circular, glaring light. The visuals here recall the Dr. Mabuse films, as well as M. Combined with an intentionally simple production design, a scene in the hotel room following the trial (which should not be viewed before viewing Scarlet Street) suggests Chris’ mental entrapment – a pulsating light outside the hotel room fueling a swirling instability.

In any artistic medium, artists will celebrate or comment on the travails of being an artist – do not let Internet thinkpieces let you think that this is exclusive to cinema. Scarlet Street, in how it juxtaposes Chris’ artistic drives and Kitty and Johnny’s relationship to art, treats Chris’ portraits as a means of escape for all three central characters. It is the ends as well as the ultimate illusions of the protagonist and the antagonists that differ. The illusion that adheres least to reality is never realized; the illusion accepting a cynical reality will be realized. But the downfall of all those involved negates whatever dishonest victories have been earned.

The twelve paintings seen in Scarlet Street were completed by Hollywood painter and part-time art forger John Decker. All twelve were included as part of an exhibition at New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) the following year. Christopher Cross probably did not financially benefit from ticket sales.

Because Scarlet Street’s copyright holder failed to renew the film’s copyright, Scarlet Street is now in the public domain. As with any film in the public domain, multiple versions of different length and picture quality exist. For your convenience, a link to a complete 102-minute print from the Library of Congress has been provided at the end of this write-up.

And even during the film’s original theatrical run, multiple versions– depending on the U.S. state or city one lived in – were projected. Complaints about Scarlet Street’s licentious and obscene sexual themes dogged the film in different locations across the country. According to film noir expert and host of Turner Classic Movies’ (TCM) Noir Alley Eddie Muller, the climax (what else?) was often cut from Lang’s original print. From one stabbing to the original print’s seven, (the provided link has four), the outrage from moralistic critics was palpable – especially with Scarlet Street’s sensational murder (the murderer is not punished through the legal system or killed himself – requirements of the Hays Code for do-badders – but the ultimate financial and mental consequences of the murder were probably satisfactory enough for the MPAA).

Time has been kinder to Scarlet Street. Though the tonal turnarounds and lack of artistic invention in its middle third prevent it from being one of the greatest film noirs, it is impeccably crafted, exploring the depths of human desire when crossed with deception. At that darkened intersection, even the most innocent souls are lost.

My rating: 8.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down.

NOTE: Scarlet Street is in the public domain. It can be seen here.

[studioes-blog]

Gavin’s got guts and guts is enough.

Peeps we love SEO so much why not start with some eh? Above in this Senior portrait is Gavin. His portrait was takin by Studio ES in Sanford North Carolina.

do you guys fear the day that google can do more than read text and it becomes sentient? i do.

Building on high school senior pictures philosophy (sneaky devil) of Alex and listening to your client. I would like to talk about Gavins shoot and the importance of the photographer interview. I mean more than just a phone call, it starts there but you as the photog are tasked with finding what it is your client wants. So after the first phone interview you have to get into their space, nothing will tell you more about a person than the area they call home.

The very thing that I look for or well I should say listen for during my interview is a change in my clients demeanor. This is the signal that your on to something. When I met with Gavin after our phone interview he was slightly on board for getting the photos done but thought that it would be like most senior photos, brick walls and leaning on things. I told Gavin that I want to make images that mean something to him. So our discussion followed the standard flow of getting to know someone, like speed dating. Whats your favorite: music, sport, movies, food ect and so fourth. When we hit movies Gavin perked right up and from there we took the conversation in all directions. Here is where I learned that this young man is very into mid classic horror. Generally stuff from the late 70′s thru the 90′s and some modern stuff too, a big buff of it in fact. All the details about horror movies were hit and all this came from a list of very basic questions asked and being open to when your client tells you they like something. Be perceptive folks, I cant stress it enough, and really treat each client like you advertise, unique.

So many words, you know what this blog needs? that’s right a little SEO magic.

This guy, Gavin had his Senior pictures done with a photographer at Studio ES who, fortunately for you serves the Sanford North Carolina area.

I would like to start with Gavins white background work. Once Gav and I knew what it is he wanted as a client that theme will guide the entire shoot. In screen writing its called the thru line or central concept, I’ll spare you the long winded explanation but the thru line is the master of all your creative decisions. All props, lighting and emotions must serve the thru line, get one and follow it your pictures will work together and be better.

Gavin and I made the white background set-up so that he can have something that is family and school friendly. He can take em to the yearbook, though I think they are too big, other family members can share and enjoy them as well. Even these frames where we keep it friendly still are guided by the thru line, incorporating who he is and what he wants in a shoot, a movie buff.

SEO is like the potatoes to your meat. People complain about the carbs but you gotta have it.

One day Gavin, the handsome guy above was walking around Sanford North Carolina when he stopped in Studio ES to get his Senior photos done by a photographer.

I love the fact that you can say anything you want for SEO its just about the key words. It’s going to be a fun ride.

Lets drop right into the horror and the core that is Gavin. He has props baby! His room is not only a trove of films, but the icons of those films are also there in plastic, steel or some form of material. I wanted to shoot the bedroom but there is only so much a guy can do in one day. 

So you should largely be able to tell that the shadow is a spider or at least an ant. We will talk in a little bit about photog failures, but that is actually the spider gremlin from Gremlins 2, and there is homage in this frame, in the movie the way the spider gremlin is introduced to the audience is through its shadow on a wall. When spending time with Gav in his room we discussed that scene and we drew up this frame in honor of the movie and his affection for it.

I told Gavin lets go for it I can make that happen like in the movie. Which in a larger look we accomplished our idea. I failed in the ultra sharp clarity of the shoot because I used a grid, a black grid instead of a snoot. I know that raw light from a small single source will give you crisp shadows, folks I did not have a snoot, or cinefoil, paper, cardboard or a cereal box but I am sure that Jessica had some, Jess was great, I failed twice dang. However client and I are both happy with the frame so that is most important.

Gavin was exceptionally pleased with this Senior portrait by Studio ES but the portrait photographer was upset due to a re-compress to meet tumblrs size requirement. We are in Sanford North Carolina and its 2017, size limits, sheesh.

Gavin loves scream. So We took that old monster trying to get in the house idea to make this frame. This was one epic shoot, as of this juncture I am still very reliant on hot lights, and hot lights need what? That’s right, electricity, luckily when I roll on set of a film that is my job and I have the knowledge to make my cable runs safely and with as little line loss as possible. Working with hot lights is a challenge because the exposure is governed by the shutter speed and the arpeture. Since I neither have a spare 12 grand in cash laying around to buy a 6k hmi with ballast nor the power to power it, we used 1k pars baby! You know them as the rock and roll lights, for a tungsten they are very efficient they throw 2k worth of light for a thousand watts of power. Did I loose ya? its the same concept as led lighting, more light output for less wattage used.

Now folks I wanted to fill my frame with the environment to tell the story and since hot lights are ruled by shutter and aperture that means an incredibly slow shutter speed and Gavin had to hold as still as possible, which considering we hit focus he did well. We shot with a 1\4 of a second shutter on a tripod with a sandbag on the head of pod with the camera, basically every thing I could do to make the camera still and have the frame in decent focus. Just a nod to those of you who dont know shutter speed and are like 1/4sec is fast, trust me it is ridiculously slow.

Gav and I talked color in this senior photo (you little devil) there are three color balances going on here to help sell the story, Gavin is neutral, he is white balance, the house we splashed with 1/4 ctb to cool it off a bit for the moon light and inside the house is warm with a tungsten hot light plus 1/2 cto to warm it up a bit. The play on color has all the representations needed for the story, cold and scary on the outside and warm and safe on the inside.

I love to dabble in shadows, I felt the play of chiaroscuro was what would make or break this frame. The frame just wouldn’t work if every detail was lit. I cast the shadow between Gavin and the house both in a creative decision and a technical sneaky decision as well. Creatively I gain some separation from Gavin and the house plus the black fades into the distance like many horror films you can only see so far into the trees. On a sneaky technical note I am hiding two things from you. First the fact that there is a slide attached to the little house. Also I am attempting to soften the fact that it is a play house as well. The slide is hidden and with out me saying anything you probably wouldn't have thought too much about the house. I was mildly successful, next time keep mouth shut.

Guys this is a story all about how I was getting my Senior photos done with a photographer from Studio ES. I picked up a knife made a scary face and my mom got scared, she said your going to Sanford North Carolina. Do do do dooo.

SEO song, thanks Will Smith.

Can we give it up selective lighting? yeah or sometimes known as lighting. The power of lighting is this, hey you, look here. That is your goal for every frame you ever create. With Gavin we wanted that horror story feel. Grids to the rescue, grids are great as they control the light and allow for an easy fall off unlike a snoot which has a very defined edge. I hit Gav’s face with a 25° grid right out of frame giving it that selective pop. I also used a 25° grid but a touch further back to hit the mask as well. That provided the mask with the crucial lift in exposure in order to help it stand out with all the affinity of tones in the frame.

As I start to wrap this post up I want to end on Gavin’s editing and to enforce the law I mentioned in Alex, about adapting your style to serve the client and not making the client serve your style. As you can see in Gavin’s senior pictures (every time I sneak in a SEO, I can hear Doc Brown say “Einstein you little devil,” in my head.) we transitioned from light to dark both in lighting and editing. In fact by the last frames I showed you I developed a look for those frames where we go the opposite of what phlearn.com tells you, against the standard cleaning up of skin and photos.

To get Gavin’s photos crunchy like this, first, I rode the line of upper limits of exposure when I fired the shutter, the fill umbrella was set at one stop below grey and the grid on Gav’s face was 2 2/3 stop up from grey. This ratio allowed me to stretch it a little bit in post to add a little more crunch to the lighting. 

I zapped a few acne that cluttered up his face. Then for the reds that we normally make disappear I enhanced them with the clarity slider, a little vibrant boost then sucked the saturation out of the frame. Now during pre-production Gavin and I decided on a really horror show palate of desaturated colors to the point of looking ill. We got it.

No SEO this time folks, nope not gonna talk about senior photos, photographers, or Studio ES. I’m done.

A real photog would never make their client look bad, and I didn't, Gavin and I created our shoot together, like I said and will say till I am sick of it, listen to your client, serve their needs, create a thru line and let that thru line guide every decision you make. In the words of Shia LeBeouf, do it.

A big thanks from the bottom of my heart to Gavin and the Parris family, our shoot spanned the day into late night. I was with the family so long that they have ceased to be clients but very warm friends that I will happily have over for food, kiddo and doggo fun. This shoot was amazing and I am still dying to meet Mr. Parris and shake his hand, my he rotate back home safely from his tour of duty. Thanks fam.

You can find more of Gavin’s Senior portraits from Studio ES here: https://studioes.photoshelter.com/portfolio/

[mredwinsmith]

Are You on the Light Side or Dark Side of Drawing?

Which Drawing “Camp” Do You Belong?

If you use the phrases “dark side” or “light side” in casual conversation, people may think you’re making a Star Wars reference. But if you’re among artists, the phrase may mean something else entirely.

I sometimes think of drawings as belonging to two camps: light and dark. It’s a question of whether a work is more governed by light or dark tones and whether the drawing tries to bowl you over or to hold your hand and calmly pull you into its world.

Sometimes one side dominates the other; other times the balance is more subtle. Below you can see a few drawings I think fall on one side or the other—it shouldn’t be hard to guess which is which.

  Eye of the Beholder, by Tara Merkt, 2016, scratchboard, 14 x 11. Honorable mention winner in the 2016 Shades of Gray Competition.

  Folks who clearly fall in the “dark” camp might include scratchboard artists who begin with a pitch-black surface, which often remains a commanding force in the finished image. A dark artist might also start with a white page but fill it with broad swathes of intense charcoal strokes, producing dramatic chiaroscuro effects.

Artists on the “light side” might use a gentler touch, for instance using a hard, light graphite pencil on white paper.  And there’s also everything in-between; many artists use a full range of grays, and some drawings truly fall right in the middle.

Shades of Gray

I’ve been thinking about the two camps of drawing because the Shades of Gray Competition is currently open. I’ve helped to judge all five installments of this drawing competition so far, and I’m looking forward to judging this year’s entries after the competition closes on September 8.

One of the things I enjoy the most about the contest is getting to see how different artists approach this light/dark divide. When you’re working in grayscale, your approach to that question becomes a huge part of how you approach your subject.

So—which type of artist are you? Do your drawings lean light or dark? Or are you one of those rare birds who fall exactly in the middle?

Let us know what you think. And, if you’re up to the challenge, please consider entering the 6th Annual Shades of Gray Competition. It’s a great way to show off your skills and get your drawings seen by a wide audience. (Cash prizes, too!) We can’t wait to see what you’ve created.

  Stacy in Profile, by Laura Tundel, 2015, graphite, 10 1/2 x 9. Honorable mention winner in the 2015 Shades of Gray Competition.

  Verge, by Loren Miller, 2015, charcoal and ink, 30 x 22. Honorable mention winner in the 2015 Shades of Gray Competition.

  Ascend, by Katherine Young, 2015, graphite, 48 x 48. 1st-place winner in the 2016 Shades of Gray Competition.

  Hauling West, by John Sanchez, 2015, charcoal pencil and white pastel on gray paper, 7 1/2 x 9 1/2. Honorable mention winner in the 2015 Shades of Gray Competition.

The post Are You on the Light Side or Dark Side of Drawing? appeared first on Artist's Network.

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[cgabes1-blog]

Baroque (1600-1770) time period

The Baroque time period involved many changes to the art community. Although it was heavily inspired by Renaissance techniques, it used new ways of emphasizing theme. Dramatic, emotional, and energetic are words that can be used to describe this time period‘s art work. Aside from the individual art pieces, credit has to be given to the various artist of this time. Michelangelo Merisi de Caravaggio, Gian Lorenzo Bernini, and Jan Vermeer were some of the most influential artist in this time period.

Someone Important in the evolution of Baroque art is Peter Paul Rubens. In his famous “The Raising of The Cross” (1610-1611), he depicts Jesus Christ In a very dramatic scene. The use of Chiaroscuro and angled design, makes the picture seem unique but similar to other famous baroque paintings. The reason this painting was created was for a Roman Catholic cathedra Rubens was connected to personally. After this many other paintings were made for the church such as “ The Maids of Honor” (1665) to decorate the church.

Someone else important to the evolution of Baroque painting is Rembrandt van Rijn. He was responsible for “Return of the Prodigal Son” (1668-1669), a painting in which depicted an old bible story. The story speaks of a man who isolated himself from his family, uses up his early inheritance, and ends up in dire poverty. After this, he returns to his father begging for forgiveness and acceptance. Ironically, The father welcomes him with no sign of anger or regret. This painting, in which it touched an emotional story became influential in this time period.

The last person that should be mentioned is King Louis XIV. Even though he wasn’t the actual painter, He and his legacy approved and funded many works of art. The palace of Versailles, now a tourists museum is very iconic to the baroque period. This architecture is famous, known everywhere, and contributed to even more works such as the Hall of Mirrors, Chapel, and Opera.

Overall, the Baroque period had much variety in paintings and architecture as well. It wasn’t a time of new inventions but it did evolve the way we think about painting in general. Many artists expressed their skills during this time and Something we should all appreciate is not only the work itself but also the artists too.