#and bernard - robes of the gifted

[inverswayart]

riding the dao high i once again venture into dangerous territory of trying to design every single warden i can first in line are mages - Hyacinth Surana and Bernard Amell (tho i'm thinking about adding one more... but we'll see)

[gogmstuff]

More images of 1912 fashion -

1912-1913 Afternoon dress.

1912 (Winter) Jeanne Paquin evening gown (Helen Larson Historic Fashion Collection, FIDM Museum - Los Angeles, California, USA).

1912 (Winter) Jeanne Paquin evening gown (Helen Larson Historic Fashion Collection, FIDM Museum - Los Angeles, California, USA).

Left 1912 Lucile dress (V&A). From omgthatdress.tumblr.com/post/654088327176306688/evening-dress-lucile-1912-the-victoria-albert 1280X1707.

Center and right ca. 1912 Chantilly lace dinner dress front quarter and back (location ?). From whitakerauction.smugmug.com-Fall2012-Clothing-ID-22-140-i-b3kCXfz 3068X2895

1912 Lady in Furs, Mrs. Charles A. Searles by Cilde Hassam (location ?). From tumblr.com/catherinedefrance 900X1090.

1912 Lady wearing a large hat sitting by Franz von Stuck (auctioned by Sotheby's). From their Web site 1753X1991.

1912 Mrs J., by Józef Męcina-Krzesz (location ?). From godsandfoolishgrandeur.blogspot.com/2016/11/randomly-ix.html; shadows 60% and fixed spots w Pshop 750X975.

1912 Mrs. Ernest Guinness by Sir Francis Bernard Dicksee (auctioned by Christie's) From www.pinterest.com/nouvellegiselle/vintage-inspiration slightly cropped & fit to screen 924X1500.

1912 Mrs. John Lawrence by Edmund Tarbell (private collection). From cutlermiles.com/mrs-john-lawrence-edmund-tarbell/ 992X1280.

Left 1912 Princess Elena of Greece, nee Russia, in 1912, wearing the diamond and pearl tiara she later gave to her daughter as a wedding gift From pinterest.com/inara0798/aristocrats/ 602X960.

Center 1912 Princess Paley in a dinner dress with fancy headdress. From Sacheverelle's photostream on flickr 488X983.

Right 1912 Vizcondesa de Termens From laalacenadelasideas.blogspot.com/2012/12 1018X1316.

1912 Robe de Visite de Paquin (pl.5, La Gazette du Bon ton 1912-1913 n°2) by George Barbier. From edition-originale.com/en/prints-engravings-photographs/ 1682X2518.

Left ca. 1912 Frau Prinzessin Rupprecht in Bayern, Marie Gabrielle in Bayern, by F. Grainer. From eBay fixed spots w Pshop 1017X1600.

Right ca. 1912-1913 Olga de Meyer wearing the famous Paul Poiret coat La Perse, photograph by Baron de Meyer. From facebook.com/144304418968266/photos/a.397639360301436/1143579645707400/?type=1&theater 1123X2048

Left 1912 Winifred, Duchess of Portland by Philip Alexius de László (Portland College - Ravenshead, Nottinghamshire, UK). From books0977.tumblr.com/post/111045895147/the-duchess-of-portland-1912-philip-alexius-de 999X1280.

Right 1912 New Book by Walter Bonner Gash (location ?). From tumblr.com/larobeblanche/742427773413556224/the-new-book-c-1912? 876X1024.

Left 1912 Le Manteau bleu by Xavier Gosé (location ?). From tumblr.com/mote-historie/744587745354301440/painting-by-xavier-gos%C3%A9-le-manteau-bleu-1912?.

Center 1912 Fourrures Max (Max Furs) in the catalogue 'Fourrures Portraits Minatures' by George Barbier. From tumblr.com/mote-historie/732453186620866560/george-barbier-illustration-for-the-catalogue?source=share& 1939X2541.

Right 1912 Man and woman in evening dress by Coles Phillips (NYPL). From tumblr.com/sartorialadventure/747029584815489024?; fixed flaws & spots w Pshop 764X1000

ca. 1912 a Femme chic, Supplément by A. Souchel (Rijksmuseum). From their Web site; fixed flaws & spots w Pshop 3229X5315.

[newstfionline]

Monday, December 19, 2022

Messi wins World Cup, Argentina beats France on penalties (AP) Lionel Messi, wearing a black Qatari robe over his blue-and-white Argentina shirt, kissed the World Cup, shuffled toward his teammates and hoisted the golden trophy high in the air. It was an iconic sight that finally — definitively — places the soccer superstar in the pantheon of the game’s greatest players. Messi’s once-in-a-generation career is complete: He is a World Cup champion. In probably the wildest final in the tournament’s 92-year history, Argentina won its third World Cup title by beating France 4-2 in a penalty shootout after a 3-3 draw featuring two goals from the 35-year-old Messi and a hat trick by his heir apparent, France forward Kylian Mbappé. “It’s just crazy that it became a reality this way,” Messi said. “I craved for this so much. I knew God would bring this gift to me. I had the feeling that this (World Cup) was the one.”

Military Spending Surges, Creating New Boom for Arms Makers (NYT) The prospect of growing military threats from both China and Russia is driving bipartisan support for a surge in Pentagon spending, setting up another potential boom for weapons makers that is likely to extend beyond the war in Ukraine. Congress is on track in the coming week to give final approval to a national military budget for the current fiscal year that is expected to reach approximately $858 billion—or $45 billion above what President Biden had requested. If approved at this level, the Pentagon budget will have grown at 4.3 percent per year over the last two years—even after inflation—compared with an average of less than 1 percent a year in real dollars between 2015 and 2021, according to an analysis by Center for Strategic and Budgetary Assessments for The New York Times. Military spending next year is on track to reach its highest level in inflation-adjusted terms since the peaks in the costs of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars between 2008 and 2011, and the second highest in inflation-adjusted terms since World War II—a level that is more than the budgets for the next 10 largest cabinet agencies combined.

How a Town Famous for Xenophobia Fell in Love With Immigrants (NYT) For years, the small town of Hérouxville in rural Quebec was the embodiment in the province of deep, nativist hostility toward immigrants. So it may come as a surprise that Hérouxville is now embracing immigrants and is eager to accommodate them. “We’ve had a break from our past,” said Bernard Thompson, Hérouxville’s mayor. “We now want as many immigrants as possible.” The sharp shift in this small town’s attitude comes as Canada is seeking to open its doors even wider to immigrants as a crucial strategy for its economic vitality. Canada’s federal government has announced plans to welcome record numbers of new immigrants over the next three years, with the goal of adding 1.45 million immigrants to the country’s population of 39 million. In contrast to other Western nations, where immigration has cleaved societies and fueled the rise of political extremism, there is a broad consensus in Canada over the value of immigration. Hérouxville’s reversal on immigration stemmed from a combination of factors, including an aging population, a low birthrate, the need to fill an acute labor shortage, but also profound shifts in views among younger generations.

What Comes Next for the Most Empty Downtown in America (NYT) The coffee rush. The lunch rush. The columns of headphone-equipped tech workers rushing in and out of train stations. The lanyard-wearing visitors who crowded the sidewalks when a big conference was in town. There was a time three years ago when a walk through downtown San Francisco was a picture of what it meant for a city to be economically successful. “This area was always packed with people,” recalled Maria Cerros-Mercado, who built her career in food service downtown. Today San Francisco has what is perhaps the most deserted major downtown in America. On any given week, office buildings are at about 40 percent of their prepandemic occupancy, while the vacancy rate has jumped to 24 percent from 5 percent since 2019. This has made the San Francisco area something of a test case in the multibillion-dollar question of what the nation’s central business districts will look like when an increased amount of business is done at home. “Imagine a forest where an entire species suddenly disappears,” said Tracy Hadden Loh, a fellow at the Brookings Institution who studies urban real estate. “It disrupts the whole ecosystem and produces a lot of chaos. The same thing is happening in downtowns.”

Disaster scenarios raise the stakes for Colorado River negotiations (Washington Post) The water managers responsible for divvying up the Colorado River’s dwindling supply are painting a bleak portrait of a river in crisis, warning that unprecedented shortages could be coming to farms and cities in the West and that old rules governing how water is shared will have to change. State and federal authorities say that years of overconsumption are colliding with the stark realities of climate change, pushing Colorado River reservoirs to such dangerously low levels that the major dams on the river could soon become obstacles to delivering water to millions in the Southwest. The federal government has called on the seven Western states that rely on Colorado River water to cut usage by 2 to 4 million acre-feet—up to a third of the river’s annual average flow—to try to avoid such dire outcomes. But the states have so far failed to reach a voluntary agreement on how to make that happen, and the Interior Department may impose unilateral cuts in coming months. Many state water officials fear they are already running out of time. Ted Cooke, general manager of the Central Arizona Project, which delivers Colorado River water to central Arizona, said that “there’s a real possibility of an effective dead pool” within the next two years. That means water levels could fall so far that the Glen Canyon and Hoover dams—which created the reservoirs at Lake Powell and Lake Mead—would become an obstacle to delivering water to cities and farms in Arizona, California and Mexico.

Protesters in Peru refuse to back down as political crisis deepens (Washington Post) The political crisis roiling Peru deepened Saturday, as President Dina Boluarte’s new government edged toward collapse and protesters across the country refused to back down despite the military enforcing a state of emergency. A total of 20 demonstrators are reported to have been killed in clashes with security forces, including eight allegedly shot Thursday by soldiers using live ammunition in the southern mountain region of Ayacucho. Protesters have stormed several regional airports, looted businesses and blocked roads, primarily in the impoverished mountain regions of the Andean nation. Last year, those areas voted heavily for Pedro Castillo, a rural schoolteacher and former wildcat-strike leader, who was impeached as president last week after he attempted to dissolve Congress and restructure the judiciary. The violence prompted two ministers to resign Friday from Boluarte’s government. She stepped up from the vice presidency to replace Castillo, and was also forced to announce Saturday that she would replace her current center-right technocratic cabinet. Meanwhile, prosecutors announced investigations into the deaths of the protesters, and Peru’s official human rights watchdog called on security forces to ensure that officers had “sufficient experience, training and capacity to participate in the control of protests without committing abuses.”

Berlin Hotel’s Huge Aquarium Bursts, With 1,500 Fish Inside (NYT) The entrance to the five-star hotel looked like a bomb site. Mangled Christmas decorations, twisted poles and window frames, even tiny shampoo bottles littered the street—and among them, the bodies of the blast’s victims: nearly 1,500 tropical fish from a 50-foot tank called the AquaDom. Any sea creatures that survived the initial blast of the cylindrical AquaDom, billed as the largest tank of its kind in the world, had little hope of rescue. In frigid, 19 degrees Fahrenheit weather, they lay frozen on the street outside the Radisson Hotel, in Berlin’s central Alexanderplatz. “It’s a tragedy for the fish,” said Markus Kamrad, an official at the Berlin Senate responsible for animal protection. “We were lucky that it happened at a time that only two people were slightly injured. But it’s unfortunate, of course, that so many fish died.” The AquaDom, in the center of the hotel atrium, had a diameter of 38 feet and was wrapped around a glass elevator, where visitors could view the sea life inside. Police officers at the scene shook their heads at the thought of what could have awaited them had the tank broken just a few hours later in the day. Even hours after the AquaDom burst, an entire block of the street outside the building remained soaked by 264,000 gallons of water that rushed out of the lobby, uprooting plants and ripping out telephones that lay strewn among hundreds of chocolate balls from a neighboring Lindt chocolate shop, also battered by the force of a wave of water that local media estimated would have weighed about 100 tons.

Heating restored in freezing Kyiv, Mayor Klitschko says (Reuters) Heating has been fully restored to Kyiv after the latest Russian bombardment that targeted water and power infrastructure, the capital’s Mayor Vitali Klitschko said on Sunday. “The city is restoring all services after the latest shelling,” Klitschko said on the Telegram messaging app. “In particular, the capital’s heat supply system was fully restored. All sources of heat supply work normally.” Ukrainian officials said Russia fired more than 70 missiles on Friday in one of its heaviest barrages since the Kremlin’s Feb. 24 invasion, forcing emergency blackouts nationwide and cutting access to heat and water. Temperatures in Kyiv and many places across Ukraine were below freezing on Sunday morning, with forecasts expecting them to dip to minus 6 degrees Celsius (21.2 °F) in the capital by the evening.

North Korea fires 2 ballistic missiles capable of reaching Japan (AP) North Korea test-fired a pair of nuclear-capable ballistic missiles with a range of striking Japan on Sunday, in a possible protest of Tokyo’s adoption of a new security strategy to push for more offensive footing against North Korea and China. The launches also came two days after the North claimed to have performed a key test needed to build a more mobile, powerful intercontinental ballistic missile designed to strike the U.S. mainland. South Korea’s military said both missiles were launched at a steep angle, suggesting the weapon could have traveled farther if fired at a standard trajectory. North Korea usually tests medium- and longer-range missiles at a high angle to avoid neighboring countries, though it fired an intermediate-range missile over Japan in October, forcing Tokyo to issue evacuation alerts and halt trains. In an emergency meeting, top South Korean security officials deplored North Korea’s continued provocations that they said came despite “the plight of its citizens moaning in hunger and cold due to a serious food shortage.”

Tariff hike squeezes struggling Lebanese as reforms stall (Reuters) Every time a part of his old grey Mercedes breaks, 62-year-old Beirut cab driver Abed Omayraat faces a tough choice: go into debt to import an expensive car part, or raise fares for customers whose wallets are already drained by a severe economic crisis. It’s a dilemma he says has become more acute in recent months as Lebanon’s government moved to increase tariffs on imported goods about ten-fold in a country that ships in more than 80% of what it consumes—including spare parts he needs. “My tires are finished now, you can see they’re worn out. When it rains, I’m worried the car will slide,” Omayraat said. Changing them is necessary, “but I can’t afford it.” Lebanon’s economic meltdown, now in its fourth year, has seen the currency lose more than 95% of its value and left eight in 10 Lebanese poor, according to the United Nations. The tariff jump came into effect on Dec 1. Import taxes began being calculated at an exchange rate of 15,000 Lebanese pounds per dollar instead of the old 1,507, meaning traders suddenly had to pay much more to bring in products like home appliances, telephones or car parts.

‘Tired of this war’: Congolese cope with M23 rebel violence (AP) Kavira Mathe was making dinner for her two sons when bullets began flying. Eastern Congo’s M23 rebels had attacked her village, killing scores of civilians. She and others fled for their lives, she said. “I lost several friends,” said Mathe speaking to The Associated Press by phone from Kanyabayonga where she now shelters. Trekking 50 kilometers (some 30 miles) to safety, she saw roads littered with bodies that appeared to have been bound and shot, she said. “It was really horrible to see,” said Mathe. “We are tired of this war.” Communities in eastern Congo are struggling to survive in the wake of that massacre and others in which at least 130 people were killed by M23 rebels in what the United Nations called “unspeakable violence” against civilians. Nearly 26,000 people have been displaced since the attacks at the end of November, according to the U.N. refugee agency, adding to hundreds of thousands who have been uprooted since fighting began between M23 and a coalition of armed civilian protection militia more than a year ago.

[radiohand]

Hi hi!! Is it fine if I could have some JJBA Stardust Crusaders fluff head cannons if they were you partner? (this applies to all of the of characters that you can right for Pt.3)🥺💖✨ Please and Thank you ☺️

Of course!! Since you are my first ask, I’ll make it long for you love❤️✨

Stardust Crusaders

As Your Partners

Avdol

GENTLEMAN TO THE MAX

Avdol would treat you like the royalty you are😌

He loves to protect you when you need it

You have a creepy person following you or catcalling you? Avdol will step behind you and block the person’s view of you

He has the big build to hide you

“Love, are you okay? I’m sorry you were made uncomfortable. Would you like to go home and rest?”

He is so sweet...I cannot stress that enough

He will bring you little trinkets as gifts

He once walked in on you trying on his robes and necklace, his heart...he fell in love all over again

“Rohi, how can you be so lovely?”

He will introduce you to his chickens!

Free tarot readings...also he IS the zodiac boyfriend

Probably would believe in love at first sight, destiny, and all that

BUT I can definitely tell you that this man will love you no matter what height you are, body type you are, gender identity, sexuality, etc.

He falls in love you? You are his love no matter how you look.

But I do feel like he would definitely think again if your personality is nasty (which none of you guys have a nasty personality. You all are lovely and deserve this Egyptian mans)

Overall, a protective, loving, love at first sight dork so 10/10 boy

Polnareff

I’m gonna be honest, he would see you and immediately try to woo you

Kisses your hand always!! You guys are walking down the streets looking at shops? Boom! He kisses your hand to remind you he loves you

He doesn’t shy away from PDA at all

He reminds me of a big dog, like a Saint Bernard, that thinks he is a lap dog or puppy

He will forget his massive size and pull you into a hug which results in you almost suffocating from his chest tiddies

Speaking of forgetting his size, he will crawl into bed when he wants attention and lay ontop of you. You almost die from being crushed

He respects you so much...you don’t feel like being in public? You guys aren’t going anywhere. He already made a pillow fort in the living room for you two

You want some extra love? Be prepared to get kisses EVERYWHERE

Honestly, he would love a bigger body types

But no matter the size, he will pick you up and carry you around like a puppy

He is a sucker for puppy eyes. You give him puppy eyes and he will do anything for you

“What would you like precious? Can I get you something?

He reminds me a lot of Tamaki Suoh from Ouran Highschool Host Club

He will surprise you with a bunch of roses

You are allergic to roses or don’t like them? He will bring you chocolate

Allergic or don’t like chocolate? Brings you something you do like. Cause he will treat you and will never complain

He gets jealous a lot. But a healthy amount of jealousy if that makes sense

He sees someone looking at you a little too hard, he is not afraid to pick you up and carry you far away from the scene

But if he knows that you would not like it if he did that, this French man will just glare at the person till they leave

Kakyoin

Okay so he is a teenager. Don’t expect anything TOO romantic

But he would gladly do his research on how to treat you...

I have a feeling that he has never been in a relationship before

As his first relationship, he will be a nervous wreck T-T

He is scared to hurt you 24/7

But once you pull him aside and explain to him what you are comfortable with and what he can do to make you feel loved, he is perfect

Even if you guys have been in a relationship for awhile, he will still ask for consent to even kiss you���

He isn’t afraid to pull you closer to him by using his stand...

Date nights planned by him would consist of either playing video games together or him taking you out to eat. No in between

He loves to wrap his arms around your body and pull you into a back hug

Kisses your back a lot while cuddling

“May I kiss your back please?”

Falls in love with you HARD

He is loyal AF

His eyes are only on you when you guys are out

And if someone comes up to him to flirt, he is wrap his arm around you and politely asks for them to leave

Jotaro

Honestly I don’t simp for him so this will hard but he would be a difficult boyfriend to get

He won’t show affection too much but he cares about you a lot

He will be thinking of you almost all day

Protective

He sees you being stared at, he will confront the person

He sees you uncomfortable in a situation, he will take you out of it

Hates seeing you cry

He IS that trope of ‘I hate everyone except you’

He wants to protect you

Joseph and Holly tried to give him advice on his relationship with you

It seemed to them that Jotaro wasn’t paying attention at all, but he actually was

Cause he wants to be the perfect boyfriend to you

He knows that he isn’t the best or loving boyfriend but tries his hardest

Is low key terrified to lose you

He has daddy issues so needs reassurance a lot

If he gets flirted with, he will throw his arm around your shoulder and tell the person to get the hell out of his way

“Get the hell away from us. Are you blind?”

When you two are alone, he will put his hat on you and will crack a smile at the view

Dates at the aquarium and will definitely tell you all the facts he knows about the animals

Buys you a dolphin plushie

In return you buy him a starfish plushie, and he will carry it around the house 24/7

Holly loves you so much...

She asks Jotaro about you a lot

And Holly makes the best bento boxes for you and Jotaro (they are matching)

This was my first ask so I’m sorry if I didn’t give you all you asked T-T

[clockworklozenges]

So, my homebrew Dungeons and Dragons campaign has been going for 4 years, nearly five, and when asking my players of their favourite and most memorable moments, it isn't the fending off of vindictive gods, the liberation of countries or even the death and resurrection of NPCs that are as beloved as family members at this point which my players think of first. No, they think of the...

Giraffe Incident

...before anything else on this four year journey, and I can't lie, so do I.

To start with, this is around two-ish years ago, two-ish years into our adventure. The party, a group of five morally grey individuals who balance extreme cruelty with equally mind-boggling acts of random-only-to-the-casual-observer kindness, have ventured into Wizard Hell, a cursed domain where the runoff from the Nine Hells ends up, a landfill site for items as deadly, redundant, absurd or cursed in fact and concept as Wizard Hell itself. Classic examples of the items the party found and then, for some ungodly reason, decided to keep included:

The soul trap Tomato - a phylactery for Bernard the uncanny horse lich, which screams in horse anguish, pain and despair in many horse voices between 3am and 4am.

The Fish of Holding - a miraculous Bag of Holding which is enchanted with the same level of intelligence as a goldfish, looking like one as well. It believes it needs water to breathe, having panic attacks when not submerged, but will drown if held underwater. It is very sad.

Robe of Awkwardly Large Items - This robe can produce large and bulky items like a semi-inflated bouncy castle, seven slightly soiled pillows or a goat, all of which are difficult to carry and hard to explain. The wearer has no control over what comes out.

So, with this in mind, the party cleric, a dedicated healer who always erred on the side of kindness (a counterbalance to totalitarianism ranger) picks up a figurine of Wondrous Power, this one shaped like a giraffe in a wizard hat. Knowing (thanks to an okay Arcana roll) that Figurines of Wondrous Power summon the animal the figure depicts, the cleric, who avoided violence and conflict, decides to keep it, noting it down along with the advice on the bottom of the figurine: apply water to activate.

Fast-forward six real-world months and Wizard Hell is but a memory (or more accurately, the mental residue of a drug-addled fever dream), and the cleric of Life has been through some stuff. Going through a mirror to become a Death cleric, the lifespan of this mirror clone is at an end, and soon she is to die. Leaving behind an adopted daughter, who lost her once to the mirror door that made the mirror clone.

She sits in a chapel with the NPC, Brandine, and a solemn moment of reflection is had. Soon, she is to go meet the creature that will be her end, and take it down with her on the orders of Polybdos, an angel of her goddess. This is the last time she will see Brandine, and the last time Brandine will see her alive.

"Brandine, I... I'm sorry, but I'm going to be gone soon."

The child begins to cry, her sobs raspy and her tears bitter but unfortunately familiar to your memory.

"But you won't be alone! Never alone, but losing people is part of life...I know I've never been the best mum, but I...care about you. You'll always have me, our time together and the love I have for you."

Out of character, the player looks at me, asking "DM, can I give her something, like a memento to leave her with?" and, nonchalantly, after I confirm that she can do, but some gifts mean more than others, the cleric searches through her inventory for an appropriate gift, before settling on...the giraffe figurine. It seems like she's forgotten that it came from Wizard Hell, the inventors of Nothing Honey (honey that tastes of nothing and is just annoyingly sticky).

Now, as a dungeon master you sometimes have to make judgement calls. Because I know what the figurine does, and the party do not, thanks to them forgetting about this joke item for six months. I could tell them. Or, I could relish the reaping of what we have collaboratively sown and remain stony-faced and neutral.

I ask "okay, are you sure?" but the cleric's player nods, responding "I know it's magical but still, she needs something to remember me by." This is taking the wrong end of the stick and using it as a square peg for the purpose of jamming into a round hole. Regardless, we keep going.

"Here, Brandine, take this. When you look at this, you can think of me."

The young woman wipes her eyes, her hands soaked, the figurine shuddering and shaking as the water touches it before erupting outward, extending and growing into a full-size giraffe, complete with conical wizardly headwear. As it looks down, it rumbles:

"I AM A MAGICIAN. WOULD YOU CARE TO SEE A MAGIC TRICK?"

Before a chance to respond is given, the giraffe looks up, and says:

Observe.

The giraffe, abruptly, detonates its own head, showering you in blood and gore. Still spurting, the titanic corpse falls down in front of you, dead beyond all question. Delicately, small wisps of smoke coming from it, floats down the wizard's hat, landing on the corpse.

The player looks at me, before shouting "what?!" whilst both other players present are in shock, trying to either stifle uproarious laughter or to breathe through laughing. I narrate the gnome stood next to them sighing before beginning to clean the walls of the building now drenched in giraffe blood. Brandine is screaming in the foetal position, and in real life, we take a 15-minute break to recover from this. We return, and the cleric looks at the vast cadaver.

"Oh...so that's what that does."

And this is why my party always carry scrolls of Identify. And also, rain macs incase this happens again.

[ben-the-hyena]

I LOVE IT WHEN I MAKE HEADCANONS THAT ACTUALLY ACCIDENTALLY FIT CANON ELEMENTS I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT

SO

NOW THAT I AM BACK IN LE ROMAN DE RENART (2005) FANDOM

My love for Chancellor Bernard rekindled

As you must have understood, the original Roman de Renart stories are medieval satirical tales with various animals in it. Bernard was not invtented for the movie. There is an archpriest donkey named Bernard but sometimes also Timer (the 2 characters most likely fused into one and interchangeable force of being written by different anonymous authors through years, especially with the sequel Renart le Nouvel in which it becomes more blatant). Bernard in the movie is chancellor, but he is dressed up in red robes and little hat which are reminiscent of a cardinal, and in old days you could do Church and other occupations like politics at the same time

In the original stories, Bernard/Timer is not a villain (Renart IS the villain protagonist but everyone are jerks) but ironically naive believing Renart's lies, and meant to be the caricature of stupid, corrupt Church, since donkeys are and apparently already were wrongly often seen as dumb when in real life they are much smarter than horses. However depending of the authors, despite his naïvety about Renart such as announcing he is no longer excommunicated because he was innocented by the King (the medieval picture I posted above) or feeling pity for Hermeline and believing her about her husband during his trial, he could be also very cunning depending of the authro such as that one time he plays dead and manages to trick Renart and his family. I found about that one tale today and that could be why Bernard is smart and cunning too in the movie all while being a dumbass in some scenes, maybe it had more depth after all. And of course, he fails in the end of the movie and is punished because like for everytime Renart got tricked by another animal in the stories, he always has his revenge

But you know what is even better about that tale I read today !?

Timer (I do precise in case it was before he was officially fused with Bernard) in that story is described as a Spanish donkey

And I had come up with the random headcanon Bernard came from Spain because he always striked me as an Arab if he were human (he always reminded of Jafar for some reason, he wears khol, he has a black mane/hair and for some reason his muzzle's shape always evoked an aquiline nose for me), but his name Bernard was a European Christian indicator so I had thought about how Spain was divided in 2 worlds, Muslim and Christian, during a good chunk of Middle Age then about how Spain is closer to France where he works

I SWEAR I DIDN'T KNOW AND NOW I FEEL BIG BRAINED GIFTED WITH PROPHECY

[rosevanhelsing]

Wendigo

Chapter. 16

The two men stared at each other, until Charlie said:

- Well, will you let me pass so I can help Vic or not?

Lou doubted, he did not know whether to trust that man, but perhaps he was the only person who could save Vic and said:

- Come in, but I'll be watching you.

Lou stepped away from the door and led Manx into the bedroom. Charlie took off his coat and walked carefully to the bed. Vic was curled up and still shivering with fever. Charlie placed his hand on her forehead gently and turned her toward him. Vic was delirious and her eyes were blank with static, Charlie looked at her with concern and said:

- It's much worse than I thought. Her mind is drifting into static. We have to lower his fever and bring him to his senses or the consequences could be fatal ...

Lou paled.

- Do you have a bathtub? - said Charlie

- Uh, yeah ... in the upstairs bathroom, but what for?

- How stupid you are, Lou Carmody. We are going to immerse her in ice water to lower her temperature and see if the shock of the contact makes her come back to her senses. Stay with her, undress her and put her up. I'll prepare the bathtub myself.

Charlie went up to the bathroom, filled the bathtub with cold water, and with his powers cooled it a little more. Lou arrived at that moment with Vic in his arms, half unconscious and carefully tucked Vic into the bathtub, while Charlie turned his back to the bathtub to respect Vic's privacy. Vic woke instantly screaming from the shock caused by the water frozen and asking to be taken out of there.

- Leave her for two more minutes, Carmody, we have to make sure her temperature drops further.

Lou waited just Manx like said, held Vic in the tub so she wouldn't come out, and said:

- Hang on, Vic, we have to lower your fever.

Her teeth were already chattering with cold and she implored to be taken out of there.

- Okay, now get her out and take her to my car.

-And that's why? Lou said suspiciously as he pulled Vic out of the tub, wrapped her in a towel to dry her off, and put on a bathrobe.

- Because the car will heal me ... You've come, Charlie ... you've found me.- Vic said.

He smirked and winked at her

-  A friend of yours told me you needed help ... Now come with me,- he said, holding out his hand.

Vic took his hand and looked him directly into his dark eyes as if she wanted to assess Charlie's sincerity, and finally allowed himself to be accompanied. Lou followed closely behind.

Charlie put his hand on Vic's shoulder, pulled it close, and whispered:

- Do you remember that years ago I told you that I could teach you to control your power? That it had no consequences?

- Yes ... I learned a lot from that conversation. More than what you believe. I think Maggie wanted to explain it to me too, but after I beat you, I didn't want to use my power again, so she didn't insist.

-Well, there are two ways ... one is the one I use with the help of the Wraith ... - And the other is to hurt oneself. Let's say that those actions make our gift use those substitutes and have no consequences for us.

The three left the house and headed for the Wraith, the car opened the door in invitation and let Vic in. From outside Lou watched but saw nothing.

- You won't see anything, Mr. Carmody.

-What is that devilish piece of junk going to do to her?

Manx looked at Lou reproachfully and said:

- Do not insult my car, she is very sensitive... To heal her, Vic must sacrifice a bad memory, that is the special fuel of the Wraith. It's like a hybrid car. For the real world, use gasoline, for the world of thought, bad memories, negative experiences, etc.

- And Vic won’t transform into the same thing that Wayne was about to become? Or worse, she could turn into someone like you.

Manx glared at him and said:

- No adult has become, if they have gotten into my car, the most they have become is at Christmas dinner. .. Except Vic, of course. And when the car did that last time, she did it for both of us, since I got hurt too. ..

- Typical ... you also had to benefit ... you're a fucking vampire.

While in the car, Vic was wrapped in her robe in the front seat of the Wraith and the car mentally communicated with her.

 - Hello dear. Do you need my help again?

- Yes…

- You already know what to do…

Vic concentrated on the memory of when, because of relatives of her friend Willa, she nearly drowned in a swimming pool. After a few minutes, Vic got out of the car on her own feet and said:

- Well, I'm already in top shape. Easy, Lou- Vic said caressing his face- I'm fine now. I do not plan to die. But I have to learn not to be affected by my power. I'm going to get dressed… Charlie, will you help me do it?

- Sure. When you're decent, go out and grab your motorbike. We better do a practical demonstration.

When Vic came back, she was holding the Lou’s pricker to check  sugar. Vic said:

- I saw Maggie burn herself on cigarette butts, but neither Lou nor I smoke. I guess if I don't hurt anyone, the only option left is self-harm ...

- Yes. Okay, get on your bike and get ready. Just before you accelerate, pinch yourself where you think it hurts the most

Vic pricked himself on his little finger, before she could moan in pain, Charlie said:

- Hold on and focus on the pain, and now speed up and make the Shortcut appear. Go!

Vic sped up the Triumph, the Shortcut appeared, and Vic stepped into it. Charlie smirked. After about half an hour, Vic reappeared, took off her helmet, and pulled out some papers from inside her jacket.

- What's that? Asked Lou

- Wayne's gift reservation. I have been to see the breeder of the Saint Bernard puppies and I have reserved one for Wayne. I took a picture of him, his name is Hooper.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

20th August >> Mass Readings (USA)

Saint Bernard, Abbot, Doctor 

    on 

Thursday, Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time.

Thursday, Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the feria (Thursday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Thursday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Ezekiel 36:23-28

I will give you a new heart and place a new spirit within you.

Thus says the Lord: I will prove the holiness of my great name, profaned among the nations, in whose midst you have profaned it. Thus the nations shall know that I am the Lord, says the Lord God, when in their sight I prove my holiness through you. For I will take you away from among the nations, gather you from all the foreign lands, and bring you back to your own land. I will sprinkle clean water upon you to cleanse you from all your impurities, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. I will give you a new heart and place a new spirit within you, taking from your bodies your stony hearts and giving you natural hearts. I will put my spirit within you and make you live by my statutes, careful to observe my decrees. You shall live in the land I gave your ancestors; you shall be my people, and I will be your God.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 51:12-13, 14-15, 18-19

R/ I will pour clean water on you and wash away all your sins.

A clean heart create for me, O God,

and a steadfast spirit renew within me.

Cast me not out from your presence,

and your Holy Spirit take not from me.

R/ I will pour clean water on you and wash away all your sins.

Give me back the joy of your salvation,

and a willing spirit sustain in me.

I will teach transgressors your ways,

and sinners shall return to you.

R/ I will pour clean water on you and wash away all your sins.

For you are not pleased with sacrifices;

should I offer a burnt offering, you would not accept it.

My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit;

a heart contrite and humbled, O God, you will not spurn.

R/ I will pour clean water on you and wash away all your sins.

Gospel Acclamation

Psalm 95:8

Alleluia, alleluia.

If today you hear his voice,

harden not your hearts.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

Matthew 22:1-14

Invite to the wedding feast whomever you find.

Jesus again in reply spoke to the chief priests and the elders of the people in parables saying, “The Kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son. He dispatched his servants to summon the invited guests to the feast, but they refused to come. A second time he sent other servants, saying, ‘Tell those invited: “Behold, I have prepared my banquet, my calves and fattened cattle are killed, and everything is ready; come to the feast.”’ Some ignored the invitation and went away, one to his farm, another to his business. The rest laid hold of his servants, mistreated them, and killed them. The king was enraged and sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. Then the king said to his servants, ‘The feast is ready, but those who were invited were not worthy to come. Go out, therefore, into the main roads and invite to the feast whomever you find.’ The servants went out into the streets and gathered all they found, bad and good alike, and the hall was filled with guests. But when the king came in to meet the guests he saw a man there not dressed in a wedding garment. He said to him, ‘My friend, how is it that you came in here without a wedding garment?’ But he was reduced to silence. Then the king said to his attendants, ‘Bind his hands and feet, and cast him into the darkness outside, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.’ Many are invited, but few are chosen.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

————-—-———-

Saint Bernard, Abbot, Doctor 

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Thursday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Sirach 15:1-6

He will be filled with the spirit of wisdom and understanding.

He who fears the Lord will do this;

he who is practiced in the law will come to wisdom.

Motherlike she will meet him,

like a young bride she will embrace him,

Nourish him with the bread of understanding,

and give him the water of learning to drink.

He will lean upon her and not fall,

he will trust in her and not be put to shame.

She will exalt him above his fellows;

and in the midst of the assembly she will open his mouth

and fill him with the spirit of wisdom and understanding,

and clothe him with the robe of glory.

Joy and gladness he will find,

an everlasting name he will inherit.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 119:9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

R/ Lord, teach me your statutes.

How shall a young man be faultless in his way?

By keeping to your words.

R/ Lord, teach me your statutes.

With all my heart I seek you;

let me not stray from your commands.

R/ Lord, teach me your statutes.

Within my heart I treasure your promise,

that I may not sin against you.

R/ Lord, teach me your statutes.

Blessed are you, O Lord;

teach me your statutes.

R/ Lord, teach me your statutes.

With my lips I declare

all the ordinances of your mouth.

R/ Lord, teach me your statutes.

In the way of your decrees I rejoice,

as much as in all riches.

R/ Lord, teach me your statutes.

Gospel Acclamation

John 15:9b, 5b

Alleluia, alleluia.

Remain in my love, says the Lord;

whoever lives in me and I in him will bear much fruit.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

John 17:20-26

I wish that where I am they also may be with me.

Jesus raised his eyes to heaven and said: “Holy Father, I pray not only for these, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me. And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me. Father, they are your gift to me. I wish that where I am they also may be with me, that they may see my glory that you gave me, because you loved me before the foundation of the world. Righteous Father, the world also does not know you, but I know you, and they know that you sent me. I made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you loved me may be in them and I in them.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[multilingual-wannabe]

Hi @forinkyu​! I’m your @langblrsecretsanta​ and this is my gift to you 😊. Since you are learning Korean for your boyfriend I tried to compile some things that would help to make the season special for you two. I also included a little background about Christmas in Korea as history is another interest of yours. As a fellow Korean learner this was fun to create. I hope you enjoy it and the holidays! 

History, Traditions & Facts

Sending cards, especially to family outside of Korea, is a usual practice but general season greetings are sent and not necessarily Christmas cards.

Watching Christmas movies is a popular family activity

Gift giving is not as popular as it is in the Western World and money is a very common gift.

Since most Korean traditions are rooted in family, Christmas dinner is definitely a must. The menu consists of foods like Bulgogi , sweet potato noodles, and kimchi and ends with Christmas Cake or Korean Sweets for dessert.

Santa Kullusu or Santa Haraboji is the Korean version of Santa Claus that has gained popularity recently to entertain children and as a marketing tool. His outfit consists of blue or green traditional robes and a "gat", the historic flat topped hat worn by men during the Joseun Dynasty.

Vocabulary 

Movies

Christmas In August

A man suffering from a fatal disease begins to fall for a kind-hearted woman, but is their love doomed by time? In this classic romance, an award-winning film of Korean New Wave cinema, love faces the ultimate challenge - mortality.

Happy Ero Christmas

Byung-Ki (Cha Tae-Hyun) is a rookie cop in his hometown of Yuseong, Daejeon. Since he was a child, he has dreamed of arresting Seok-Doo (Park Yeong-Gyu), crime boss for the "Spa" gang. Byung-Ki also wishes for Min-Kyung (Kim Sun-A), an employee at a bowling alley, to fall in love with him. Byung-Ki finally gathers the courage to tell Min-Kyung his true feelings, but, at the moment, a disturbance by Seok-Doo causes Byung-Ki to miss his chance. Byung-Ki then declares on Seok-Doo. Meanwhile, Seok-Doo has aspirations to bed Min-Kyung by Christmas.

Merry Christmas Mr. Mo

Mo Geumsan (48) is a barber living in the rural area, who once aspired to be an actor. He starts to have doubts about his humdrum life after the village health center advises him to be examined at a larger hospital. He comes up with a plan to give a gift to his beloved ones in the coming Christmas. The plan is to invite everyone to the local culture center and to screen his self-made comedy movie based on his own tragic life.

Mug Travel / My Friend Bernard 

Sam is a shy boy who is afraid of almost everything, from those strange shadows in his room at night to the small dog in his neighborhood. Everything just seems too scary for him! However, one day Sam meets Bernard, a Polar Bear who isn't afraid of anything. Bernard takes Sam on an epic adventure and helps him lose his fear of flying, snowboarding, which allows him to face the biggest monster with humor!

Songs

Korean Christmas Songs 

Merry K-Pop Christmas

A Korean Christmas 

[chromium-siren]

New Friend

@kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls

Armitage scoured the kennel he and his girlfriend owned, looking for a perfect pup to adopt as a new family member. A stately whippet? No, too big. A St. Bernard? They may be gentle, but also a little too big for their small backyard. A chubby Dachshund? Probably... He was about to go look at a beagle, when he heard a soft whimper. He knew exactly what he was looking for when he saw the tiny Pomeranian look at him with eyes as big as saucers. Lucky for Armitage, tomorrow was Christmas Day, and the last customers who were adopting family pets (or gifts for lovers) were heading out.

Early Christmas morning, Armitage snuck out of bed and tried his best not to disturb Gwendoline- but she was fast asleep, and Pudge was plopped on top of her, purring away. He made his way downstairs to the guest room, where the tiny pupper slept. Gently, he eased them into a hatbox and slid it under the Christmas tree, before sliding the lid a bit back so they could breathe. Bidding them good night, he made a pit stop to the cat’s food bowls to give them breakfast. He then eased himself back in bed, trying to contain his excitement.

“Merry Christmas, angel.” Gwendoline was awakened by a kiss on her cheek, and Armitage’s smile. She woke up, eased Pudge to her side, and returned his kiss.

“Joyeux Noel, love,” she said, as Pudge hopped back onto the bed with a joyful meow. “Let’s go have some breakfast, we could make eggs Benedict. Or... we could be bad and have leftover Yule log cake,” she added with a wink.

“Sounds lovely,” Hux said, slipping on his robe as they headed downstairs, Millicent meeting them on the landing. Gwendoline lit up the tree and the multicolored glow made the room shine like a nebula. Both got their stockings down from the mantel and dug through like children on Christmas morning, as well as bringing out the toys from the cat’s stocking for them to play with. As soon as Gwendoline uncovered a box of diamond earrings, strangely enough, she found... a chew toy.

“Armie, why did I get a dog’s chew toy?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Armitage smiled at her, and gestured towards a hatbox.

“It goes with your next present, love,” he replied, handing her the box.

“I’m not sure a chew toy is a good accessory for a hat, but, if you insist.” She set the toy aside and began to open the box. As soon as the lid was off, her eyes lit up with joy. Looking straight at her was a white Pomeranian puppy, who whimpered softly before licking her hand. “Oh my goodness! You’re not a hat!” Gwendoline squealed as the puppy waggled in her arms and gave a yap. Gently, she set them down and handed them the chew toy from her stocking.

“I found him at the shelter,” Armitage said. “I know how you’ve been wanting to adopt him, so I did!” Pudge, who knew exactly who the puppy was, began to purr loudly and walk over to him, eager to say hello.

“He’s so cute!” The puppy began to explore the room, with Pudge and Millicent trailing behind him to make sure he didn’t cause any trouble.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” Armitage wondered aloud, wrapping his arms around Gwendoline’s waist.

“Well, Mash Potatoe sounds cheesy, so since he looks like a cloud... I’ll call him Nimbus.”

“Nimbus, a perfect name,” Armitage repeated. With time, their happy little family expanded, not only with the addition of Nimbus, but also with two children that joined them that spring.

[birooksun]

Winter Wonders

Part of the Secret Santa gift exchange for 2018! A HankCon fic for the lovely @thatlilbeansprout. Not sure what happened to your original secret santa, but here is a belated fic for you!

@dbhevents

Read on AO3

Hank leaned against the doorframe, watching Connor and Sumo playing in the snow. The Saint Bernard was leaping around trying to catch the snowballs with his mouth. Hank waited until Connor had moved so his back was to Hank before he struck.

He gave a sharp whistle and Sumo reacted. Instead of going to the snowball Connor just threw- he ran straight to Hank, knocking down Connor in the process. “That’s cheating!” He called from somewhere within the snow. Hank ignored the response and just gave Sumo scratches and pets as a reward. A shadow fell over them and Hank looked up, grinning at a snow covered Connor. “You cheated.” Connor gave a small pout that Hank couldn’t help but laugh at.

“It’s not cheating. I just used my surroundings.” Hank stood up and brushed the snow from his jeans before going inside the house. He turned and put a hand up to block Connor. “First, brush off all that snow. I’m not falling on my ass and breaking something because you left puddles everywhere.”

Connor tilted his head slightly before looking down at his own clothes, quickly patting the snow off and then following Hank inside. He watched as Hank removed his coat then quickly put a robe over his clothes. “Are you still cold Hank?”

He scoffed in response, rubbing his arms for warmth before going into the kitchen to feed Sumo. “That’s the thing with getting old. It gets harder to stay warm.” Connor didn’t respond, probably thinking of the nights they had just stood outside talking. “Being in the snow for a long time just saps the warmth from me. It’s fine. Should have worn my gloves and snow jacket instead of this old thing.”

Connor nodded in response, not sure what to say in response. He did turn up his internal heat, realizing the snow had probably made him cold to the touch. Connor walked up to Hank as the man rummaged through the fridge. “I could help you warm up Hank?”

He was sure he had said something wrong with how quickly Hank straightened his back and just looked at Connor. He opened and closed his mouth several times before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ Connor, that’s not something you say. It sounds like you’re coming on to me!” Connor opened his mouth to ask why that would be an issue before Hank continue on with, “An old man like me? I know it’s not what you meant but to others it doesn’t sound right.” He pulled out a carton of Chinese food and grabbed a beer before walking back over to the living room.

Connor gave a sigh as he watched Hank walk away, wondering if Hank really didn’t have any feelings towards him. He looked down at his hands, they were now back to an acceptable human temperature range. Connor walked back to the living room and sat down on the couch next to Hank, he leaned slightly against Hank’s arm and shoulder. Not enough to jostle the carton of noodles Hank was eating from, but enough to make him turn and look at Connor for a moment before shrugging and turning back to the tv. They stayed like that for a while, eventually Hank finishing his dinner and putting his arm around Connor’s shoulders. He couldn’t help but smile at that as he tucked himself in between Hank’s arm and chest.

Hank kept watching the game, occasionally just looking down to Connor and running his fingers through the other man’s hair. He had a feeling Connor wanted more, but he just wasn’t sure how to even approach the topic. It had been a long time since he entered a relationship, and his ex had done most of the pursuing. The one before that, well he and Hank had both fumbled through their relationship. He shifted slightly so Connor was either leaning more on him or had to it up. He wondered how Connor would react if he just summed up the courage and kissed him, either he’d go for it- or very quickly let Hank know it was unwanted.

He wanted to laugh as Connor decided to just drape on him more, one hand sliding around Hank’s back so he was almost hugging the man. “Connor.” He looked up at Hank, wide brown eyes showing confusion and a little bit of hope. Hank lifted one hand up to gently cup Connor’s chin, his thumb lightly tracing Connor’s bottom lip as he internally debated making a move.

“Hank?” Connor moved slightly, the position probably would have bothered the back of a human, and he could see Hank was frowning slightly so he uncurled his legs and brought himself back up to eye level with Hank. His human still kept a hand on his face, tracing his lip, his cheeks, and finally looking away from his lips to meet his eyes. “Hank?”

Connor felt his face heating up as he realized his voice held a slight bit of static to it. Hank smirked and moved his hand to the back of Connor’s head, slowly leaning forward. Connor couldn’t help but give a small shiver as he felt Hank’s breath over his lips. He had stopped, hesitating going in fully when Connor decided to take over. Connor leaned forward and closed the small gap between them for the kiss. He could feel the warmth of the kiss, feel Hank’s facial hair just lightly scratching his skin.

After a moment Hank pulled away, breathing heavily and his face flushed. “I guess you do like me.” It was said so simply, Connor couldn’t help but laugh. Hank joined in and pulled Connor in for another kiss. This one with no hesitation. After a little bit they pulled apart and settled back onto the couch, Connor half lying on Hank while he watched the game.

When there was a commercial break though, Hank would turn his attention back to Connor, gently pulling the android up for more kisses. Connor knew if he were human he would feel breathless by all this, as it was only his mussed up hair gave any outward sign. The game must have ended- Connor had stopped paying attention a while back, because Hank quickly flipped their positions and pinned Connor on the couch. He couldn’t help but let out a static filled moan as Hank gently bit his lip.

“Tell me when to stop Connor. I don’t want to go too far.” He nodded and Hank leaned in for another kiss, this one quick before lightly running his mouth over to Connors neck and nipping at it.

Hank smirked as he kissed and nipped at Connor’s neck and received static filled moans in response. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He murmured in response to Connor’s hands weakly grasping at his hair and shoulders. “If it gets too much I’ll stop.” He ran a large hand over Connor’s chest, lightly tracing the buttons and watching Connor’s flushed face. Connor nodded in response and threw an arm across his face as Hank un-did the top button. He paused, looking up at Connor, the parts of his face still visible were tilted a soft blue.

He quickly moved back up and lifted Connors arm, the android letting him pin it above his head. Hank softly kissed Connor’s lips one more time before sitting up, making sure his knees were far enough apart he wasn’t still pinning Connor to the couch. “We’re stopping there for now.”

Connor slowly sat back up, blinking sluggishly as he overloaded mind caught up. “We can continue Hank.”

Hank shook his head in response, “You’re reacting slower than normal Connor. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” He stood up off the couch and stretched his back, groaning at the loud pops it gave. “It’s getting late though. I should go to bed.” He scratched the back of his neck, realizing he really wasn’t sure what to do or say next. Usually the other person would leave, but Connor lived here. “Are you going to be alright by yourself?”

Connor dipped his head and looked at his hands, his LED slowly turning between blue and yellow. “Could I join you? Not- not to continue on so quickly but-” his words seemed to fail him.

“Yeah we can cuddle before I go to sleep.” Connor looked back up at him with such a wide smile. “Come on then.”

[artbookdap]

We are delighted to see the collection of Bernard Lumpkin and Carmine Boccuzzi — featured in the forthcoming book, 'Young, Gifted and Black: A New Generation of Artists' — on view in this week's @archdigest !!⁠⠀ ⁠⠀ Image captions: ⁠⠀ 1. The New York loft of art patrons Bernard Lumpkin and Carmine Boccuzzi is filled with their collection of important artworks by Black artists. Here: a vintage credenza dusted by framed family photos, a wall hanging of glass tiles and black wax by Chicago-based Rashid Johnson hangs as a mirror beside a photograph of Mike Tyson, his face obscured per Baltimore-born Derrick Adams with a wall of metallic silver paint.⁠⠀ ⁠⠀ 2. “I wanted a home that felt comfortable, lived in, and where the art is part of a conversation about family,” Lumpkin says, pointing to a quilt-like assemblage from Eric N. Mack—comprised of various painted and bleached fabrics, palm husks, and dried orange peels—that hangs above a cluster of children’s craft projects.⁠⠀ ⁠⠀ A nursery becomes a white-walled gallery with the addition of two paintings of differing styles: an abstract vision called Face (2016) by Los Angeles–based Christina Quarles and an expressionist portrait titled Joyce (2012) by Jennifer Packer from New York.⁠⠀ ⁠⠀ In a shared kids’ bedroom, a colorful mural painted by artist Matt Wycoff, who co-curated “Young, Gifted and Black” alongside critic Antwaun Sargent, decorates the wall. Hanging adjacent, a 2015 Deana Lawson photograph depicts two children standing side-by-side, wearing traditional wedding robes in Ethiopia.⁠⠀ ⁠⠀ @bernardlumpkin @younggiftedblackart #younggiftedandblack @rashidjohnson @derrickadamsny @ernatmack @cequarles @complicatedobjects⁠⠀ https://www.instagram.com/p/CEDTDm0pQes/?igshid=a125l0up873f

[vieuxnoyesrp]

     BLISTERS BEGIN TO BUBBLE, AND THE RAFTERS HAVE                                               TURNED BLACK,      THE BLAZE BURNS FAR TOO HIGH FOR YOU TO NOW                                                  TURN BACK,             THE STAGE HAS BEEN SET AND THE SEATS ARE                                                  ALL FILLED,             IT'S THE SHOW OF A LIFETIME, FRIENDS, AND                                     THE ENDING? IT KILLS.

                          ⚜  VN COUNTDOWN: DAY 4  ⚜

T H E  T H I R D  S A C R I F I C E  by @theoverlooked

                                                       accompanied by this soundtrack ((x))

Triggers for: violence, death, gore

Friede took comfort in two things amongst the uncertainty of the world: her kindness and her God. In the face of her mother’s passing, she was kind. In the face of her father’s illness, she was kind. When she was alone in the world, she was kind. And God gifted her with a cause. The Old Ursuline Convent took her in in the winter of 1952; she’s been sixteen, days away from begging for her next meal. Cold, alone, unloved, but kind. She was still so kind. The Father saw in her the potential for change and welcomed her as the daughter his oaths forbade him to have. She was clothed in worn, but clean threads and fed a thin broth to chase away the sting of winters touch and loneliness’ embrace. God’s people had saved Friede; and in turn, she became one of God’s people. Or perhaps she always had been, if she were to be asked Friede would simply smile and say, 

‘It doesn’t matter. I’m here now.’      

And that was how she lived her new life. It wasn’t a great change really. She continued to be kind in the face of life’s trials, helping all those who came to her. It was only once she questioned the will of God, her strength failed her and bitterness rose like so much filth from the bayou itself. September 1965. Hurricane Betsy swept through eastern New Orleans, destroying much of Gentilly and obliterating St. Bernard Parish. She and her sisters had gathered supplies from the generous many and aided in healing those who the hospital could not see as they were pulled from the wreckage. She’d held a girl, Gretchen, in her arms as she passed into God’s care. She’d been eight years old. She’d known as she passed her father was dead, her mother and six month-old child were among those missing. No more than three hours after she’d cradled the dying girl, her mother was found, her child dead in her arms, and Friede took it upon herself to pass on the news. The mother had lost all to the malevolent winds. 

Friede had no sleep that evening. She’d taken up residence in her Church, fallen before His alter and with a fever that bordered on vicious demanded answers. Why? She’d been nothing but kind, loved and worshiped, as a sister should. Why, oh Lord, had she seen such suffering? Been a spectre of death to a poor woman in her greatest hour of sorrow? Why… Why!?        

The walls of the church provided no answer to her silent questions, only reverberated her sobbing back to her.

In the early hours, when dark still reigned, she rose disillusioned to her aching feet and turned from the alter. She felt lost, angry, grief-stricken. Not for her loses, never for those, but for the losses’ of others which she’d only been able to watch. She was but steps away from the door, from her life as it was, when she’d heard it. 

Music.

Wonderful music. In later evenings she was frequently asked to explain the sounds that met her ears, yet she was unable to do so. Words failed to describe so beautiful a sound, so holy a melody. It was her Lord. Some called it exhaustion, others a product of shock, but in her heart Friede knew. The Lord had sent his angels to sing to her, to guide her back to his light. To assure her of his reasoning’s, his love. It did little to stem the tide of her grief but it gave her hope. Hope that not all was lost, the kindness of the world, of heaven, of her, would endure. And with those so too would her title as Sister.  

The years past and Friede never again questioned her Lord. She knew anger, sadness, grief as she now knew she would. But with those came love and joy and kindness; the quality she was known for. The Convent remained her home. And she, close to each father as he watched his flock. Father Kieran was a friend in kind and she had been there for him as he mourned the loss of his nephew to madness. She guided the sisters too through the shock of their loss as well as the remaining students of the cloth.  Her kindness to them never wavered; she remained ever steadfast. A woman of kindness, a woman of peace. As her name had been given to imply.

Years continued to pass and Friede, now eighty-one years of age, was a well-known face to New Orleans. She was beloved by patrons of the Church and a revered woman by those who followed the path of the Lord. Habit became something of a crutch in her old age. She began and ended each day the same, with a prayer of thanks and a look-in on her sisters. This was one such evening of habit. Friede wore her simple nightgown; the warm summer evening’s air warranted little more, and left her shoulder length, white hair loose fluttering behind her. The floor was warm against her bare feet as she padded down the corridor to her sister’s quarters. The door, as always was left ajar for her to peep inside. The lights were out and the even breaths of her sleeping kin drifted out to her aged, yet keen ears. She smiled and moved on.

The Church was always a welcome sight from the windows of the convent. It was a rising pillar of God to bring comfort to an aged soul. Friede always paused for a moment to gaze at it, wondering (only briefly) if the Lord would ever come to her again with his music. She wondered if she’d ever hear the wondrous voice and gentle piano that soothed her dreams, even now.  It was prideful of her she knew, but she pitied the other sisters for not having heard that which she’d been blessed to. Friede gazed a moment longer, made the sign of the cross and sent a silent voice of thanks to God for all he did and would continue to do.

Then it came.

Friede stilled, her hand going to the crucifix at her bosom. Wide eyes yet to be dulled with age, looked out to the Church, it was faint, but she knew. The music was for her. She was being called. It had been over fifty years, yet each note was as piercing to her heart and soul as it had been back then. She repeated the sign of the cross and moved swifter than her frail form would suggest. Down the corridor, back past her sleeping sisters, out of the door and into the street. New Orleans was silent. Only the music sounded, only the music mattered. The Lord called to her, it was her joy to be at his side when he deigned to speak.

Friede reached the door and pushed it open, the worn wood smooth against her thin hands. She hurried inside, the door slowly swinging closed behind her. She paused, looking around the all-too familiar walls. The wide ceilings, the many pews the raised alter. She could almost see herself there all those years ago, prostrate with grief and questions. Moonlight bathed it now, the pale glow casting a shine against the pure white cloth of the table. It was beautiful. And still the music played. The wondrous voice, the gentle notes fell upon her ears and brought tears to her eyes. She took a shuddering breath and her gaze drifted as she took a few steps further in.

Then she saw her.

Friede knew she gazed upon a woman, how she knew was unclear, but her heart spoke true in the face of such holy wonder. The figure, the woman, was sheathed in black reflected by the moonlight. She was hooded and bent just so over the piano. Pale fingers peeked out the edges of the robes folds and pressed the keys of the church organ. Yet it was that holy music she heard, that beauteous voice; both too ethereal to come from a device made by mortal men. She walked closer, her eyes fixed on the vision before her. She needed to be closer, to see better the Lords incarnation made just for her.          

Friede reached the altars base, facing the organ to its side. The figure played on, sang on, unmoved by her presence. She lowered herself to her knees and clasped her hands, the crucifix held between them.

“Dear Lord, you have come to me again. I-I am unworthy of your attention. I only wish to be close to you, aid you as I have done all my life.” 

All eloquence had left her, all scriptures fallen forgotten to the recesses of her mind. In the face of the Lord Almighty, what did it matter? He knew her heart, her soul, and had sent his vision to her. It was a gift she did not deserve. “I only wish I had never questioned you, I wish I had been stronger to those who needed me, I wish I had not sinned, I wish this place had-”

“Fret not, dear Friede.”

The voice was everywhere and nowhere. The music uninterrupted, the singing continued as the voice echoed over, light and reverberating. The Sister’s voice caught in her throat, she’d been spoken to! A miracle, a miracle of the Lord!

“I have no need of thine regrets. For thou ist mine. For now and evermore. And that is the highest honour. Prostrate thyself before mine presence. And know we are to be one.”

The words registered and Friede could have cried if she’d any voice behind a sob of joy. Wordlessly she obeyed the request, falling forward till her nose brushed again the worn carpet of the aisle. Low as she could fall, below the Lord and his will. 

“D-Dear Lord, what do you need of me?” 

There was no response.

Friede remained prostrate; her aged limbs ached at the position yet she remained. Eternity seemed to pass under the watch of the glorious music and her bones would not support her as they once did-

“Forgive me, Dear Father.” She murmured, raising herself so that the ache would abate, only for a moment, a moment more to see-

Her breath died in her throat. 

The figure had turned.

Pale, delicate hands were folded primly in a lap. Bare, porcelain feet poked daintily from the bottom folds of the black cloak. For that was all there was. Hands, feet, and cloak. 

The vision had no face.

There was only darkness.

The hood was an abyss Friede gazed into, and as all do, it gazed back. Friede saw. There was death in that darkness, unholy, tainted, an abomination. Something evil slithered into this house of worship in the guise of the Lord, luring with its music…

It had lured her.

The music changed, still playing on as the figure watched her, there were no eyes but it watched, it stared, it bored into her very being. Her mortal soul lay bare in the face of such darkness. The piano no longer soothing, it was menacing, the gentle notes akin to stalking footsteps, inevitability, end. The voice no longer the gentle preaching’s of an angel. Now the shrill cries of a wailing woman, cries of despair, cries of loss, cries of rot and end.

Yet the music was no different than it always was. The truth had simply reached her ears.

The figure rose.

Friede struggled to her feet, she needed to run, ‘Oh Lord, guide me!’ she pleaded.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears.

The figure breathed. It was a shuddering thing, a death rattle that worked into the lulls of death’s music. It, for no being such as this could be a she, took a step forward. In the wake of its step fire kindled. It spread at an unholy pace through the Church, covering pews, licking up walls, scorching stained-glass windows a sooty black. The moon’s light blocked out. 

She felt the fire pulsing at her heels, a living thing at the beck and call of this beast, surrounding her. The flames of hell worked in this hall of worship, a gross travesty, a breach of terms, an unholy declaration.    

“Fret not, Friede.”

The figure approached, the unholy flames encompassed all yet the black abyss walked through them unscathed, her gentle voice a roar above the shrieks, the stalking keys and cracking of fire-burst wood. 

“’Tis only a flame quivering at misguided ash.”

The figure reached her. She was frozen, yet her mind prayed to God, Jesus, The Holy Ghost, The Virgin herself to save her from this emissary of Satan himself. Smoke rose, thick and cloying through the church, choking out the fire’s light, the word of God, Friede. It felt as though wire itself were wrapped around her withered neck.

No kindness in the abyss.

L-Lord…. Please….

“Distance thine mind.”

God… Almighty….

“I shall snuff out these ashes for good.”

The thud of a club.

The scrape of a knife.

A Virgin’s blood stained the Church of New Orleans.

A scream curdled the blood of a milk-man the next morning. He dropped his bottles, they smashed on the ground as he ran towards the source, into the Church. A nun lay on her knees, wailing to the heavens, the morning communion dropped in her anguish. 

The wine mixed with blood.

The bread stained red.

The milk-mans gaze followed the river of red that had trickled down the aisle like some macabre trail to its source…

Sister Mary-Friede lay against the steps of the altar, her legs bent, both hands stained in her own blood, clutching an equally bloody crucifix. Her throat was slit to the point of decapitation. Her glassy eyes were wide and her mouth frozen agape in an expression of pure horror. Her head was turned; facing away from her body’s angled in what seemed like a slight defiance. It seemed to those unfortunate souls bearing witness that Sister Mary-Friede’s final act upon this plain was to gaze at the stool of the church organ, which sat innocent and empty in the morning sunlight.

                            ⚜  VN COUNTDOWN: DAY 4  ⚜

[seekfirstme]

The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2020. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net

Meditation: What can a royal wedding party tell us about God's kingdom? One of the most beautiful images used in the Scriptures to depict what heaven is like is the wedding celebration and royal feast given by the King for his newly-wed son and bride. Whatever grand feast we can imagine on earth, heaven is the feast of all feasts because the Lord of heaven and earth invites us to the most important banquet of all - not simply as bystanders or guests - but as members of Christ's own body, his bride the church! The last book in the Bible ends with an invitation to the wedding feast of the Lamb - the Lord Jesus who offered his life as an atoning sacrifice for our sins and who now reigns as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. The Spirit and the Bride say, Come! (Revelations 22:17). The Lord Jesus invites us to be united with himself in his heavenly kingdom of peace and righteousness.

Whose interests come first - God or mine?

Why does Jesus' parable of the marriage feast seem to focus on an angry king who ends up punishing those who refused his invitation and who mistreated his servants? Jesus' parable contains two stories. The first has to do with the original guests invited to the marriage feast. The king had sent out invitations well in advance to his subjects, so they would have plenty of time to prepare for coming to the feast. How insulting for the invited guests to then refuse when the time for celebrating came! They made light of the King's request because they put their own interests above his. They not only insulted the King but the heir to the throne as well. The king's anger is justified because they openly refused to give the king the honor he was due. Jesus directed this warning to the Jews of his day, both to convey how much God wanted them to share in the joy of his kingdom, but also to give a warning about the consequences of refusing his Son, their Messiah and Savior.

An invitation we cannot refuse!

The second part of the story focuses on those who had no claim on the king and who would never have considered getting such an invitation. The "good and the bad" along the highways certainly referred to the Gentiles (non-Jews) and to sinners. This is certainly an invitation of grace - undeserved, unmerited favor and kindness! But this invitation also contains a warning for those who refuse it or who approach the wedding feast unworthily. God's grace is a free gift, but it is also an awesome responsibility.

Cheap grace or costly grace?

Dieterich Bonhoeffer, a Lutheran pastor and theologian in Germany who died for his faith under Hitler's Nazi rule, contrasted "cheap grace" and "costly grace".

"Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves... the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance... grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate... Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life."

God invites each of us as his friends to his heavenly banquet that we may celebrate with him and share in his joy. Are you ready to feast at the Lord's banquet table?

"Lord Jesus, may I always know the joy of living in your presence and grow in the hope of seeing you face to face in your everlasting kingdom."

The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2020.

ALL DONE

“ ‘My friend,’ he said, ‘how is it you came in here not properly dressed?’ The man had nothing to say.” —Matthew 22:12

Jesus will sprinkle clean water on us to give us new life in Him and cleanse us from all our impurities (Ez 36:25). He will give us a new heart and a new spirit (Ez 36:26) and will even put His Spirit within us (Ez 36:27). Furthermore, He will give us robes of righteousness (see 2 Cor 5:3) and make us holy as He is holy (1 Pt 1:16).

If we don’t have victory on earth and eternal life in heaven, it will not be Jesus’ fault. Out of love for us, He became man, died on the cross, rose from the dead, and poured out the Spirit. He remains with us in the Eucharist, and even dwells within us in unheard-of intimacy (Jn 6:56; 17:23). What more could He do?

We only need to let it be done to us according to God’s will (Lk 1:38). Jesus has done all the work. Our part is to believe in Him and thereby accept His saving grace. We have no excuse not to come to the heavenly banquet, no excuse for going to hell. Accept Jesus’ finished work. Accept Jesus as Savior, Lord, and God.

Prayer:  Jesus, I choose to live for You and not for myself, to do Your will and not mine.

Promise:  “You shall be My people, and I will be your God.” —Ez 36:28

Praise:  St. Bernard is a titan of the Church. During his 37 years as abbot of the Clairvaux monastery, he spearheaded the foundation of 136 other monasteries throughout Europe!

Reference:  

Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for One Bread, One Body covering the period from August 1, through September 30, 2020. Most Reverend Joseph R. Binzer, Auxiliary Bishop, Vicar General Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio October 1, 2019"

The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements

[caveartfair]

11 Art Historical Treasures at TEFAF New York

Those with a taste for the classics and money to burn would do well to stop by The European Fine Art Fair (TEFAF) in New York this week. At the Park Avenue Armory November 2nd through 6th, 93 exhibitors from around the world will present art historical wares ranging from Egyptian hieroglyphs to Old Master paintings to Art Deco jewelry, and everything in between. Even if you don’t have intent to buy, the fair also provides an opportunity for the public to view treasures rarely seen in museums or in the news. Below, we take a look at 11 gems on offer, hailing from the ancient world to the present.

K’Iché Two-Part Urn, Guatemala (ca. 650–850)

Colnaghi, Stand 208

K’Iché Two-Part Urn, Guatemala, ca. 650–850 C.E. Courtesy of Colnaghi.

One of the more fearsome treasures at the fair is a grimacing urn from the ancient Mayan kingdom in Guatemala. Usually found in sacred caves where ancestral offerings would be made, urns like this are rich in mythological iconography. The lower portion of the impressive antique clay container features the sneering face of the sun god K’inich Ajaw, whose divine status is communicated by the ear spools and fanned headdress he wears. The fish barbels curling up from the corners of his mouth allude to the story of the Maya Hero Twins, Hunahpú and Xbalanqué, who were reborn as catfish after their deaths. The jaguar figure perched on top of the vessel reaches toward the twins’ human heads with his taloned hands; in K’iché folklore, the jaguar was believed to be the protective sun god who prowls the underworld at night.

A Winged, Sandaled Foot of Mercury (1st–2nd century)

Tomasso Brothers Fine Art, Stand 207

A Winged, Sandaled Foot of Mercury, 1st–2nd century C.E. Courtesy of Tomasso Brothers Fine Art.

The Roman god Mercury (known as Hermes to the Greeks) performed his duty as messenger by traveling to-and-fro with the help of his winged sandals. In ancient sculpture, the flighty deity was usually portrayed with one foot off the ground, either landing or in the midst of taking flight. This delicately carved appendage has survived, with all five of Mercury’s toes intact, since the early imperial period. While the remainder of the body is undocumented, the foot’s ever-fashionable gladiator sandals, the gallery notes, closely resemble those worn by the Seated Mercury found at Herculaneum, which Henry James once (somewhat erotically) described as “the young, resting, slightly-panting Mercury.”

Jean Pichore and the Master of Martainville, Book of Hours, most likely made for Queen Catherine of Aragon (ca. 1503–07)

Heribert Tenschert — Antiquariat Bibermühle, Stand 203

Jean Pichore and the Master of Martainville, Book of Hours, most likely made for Queen Catherine of Aragon , c. 1503–07. Courtesy of Antiquariat Bibermühle.

This small, gilded tome may very well be Queen Catherine of Aragon’s long-lost Book of Hours. One of the first illuminations shows a lady—presumed to be the queen—accompanied by Saint Catherine, kneeling in prayer. She has beside her a royal crown, “as if to suggest,” the gallery offers, “that the crown is rightly hers, but that she has not yet attained the status to wear it.” Poor Catherine found herself widowed only a year into her strategic marriage to Arthur, Prince of Wales. She was essentially stranded in the English court during seven years of negotiations about a subsequent marriage to Arthur’s brother, the tempestuous Henry VIII. This lavish manuscript was illuminated by the inventive royal Parisian artist called the Master of Martainville, and was likely a diplomatic gift from Louis XII of France to comfort Catherine during those years of isolation.

Willem Claesz Heda, Still Life with a Fruit Pie (1644)

French & Company LLC, Stand 312

Willem Claesz Heda, Still Life with a Fruit Pie, 1644. Courtesy of French & Company, New York.

Willem Claesz Heda is considered a high master of the still life during the Dutch Golden Age. He helped to pioneer a genre known as banketjes (“banquet pieces”), meticulously detailed renderings of extravagant feasts. This example is museum-quality; its large size denotes the great expense paid for it, and the sumptuous, nearly life-sized foods and objects featured confirms its value. As previously explored on Artsy, the complex symbolism of still life paintings from this time connoted the patron’s wealth, as well as the Netherlands’s international dominance through trade. The star of this banquet is the mince pie, a delicacy made with expensive imported spices from India and the Middle East. Yet these trappings of wealth also served as a reminder of mortality; the meal is over, the tablecloth rumpled, silver tray toppled, the pie left unfinished.

Large Sacred Mountain, China, early Kangxi Period (1662–1722)

Vanderven Oriental Art, Stand 342

Large Sacred Mountain, China, early Kangxi Period, 1662–1722. Courtesy of Vanderven Oriental Art.

Not all sculptures tell a story as complex as this unusually large enamel mountain, masterfully crafted in China in the early Kangxi Period, a “perfection-driven” time of great technical progress in the ceramic arts. A small robed monkey perches near the top of the almost 2-foot-tall peak. Below him, flowering prunus and pine trees wend through the craggy mountainside, which is studded with pagodas populated by other minute figures and animals. The scene refers to the popular 16th-century novel Journey to the West by Wu Cheng’en, in which the “Monkey King,” Sun Wukong, steals peaches of immortality from the Queen Mother of the West’s mountain paradise.

Elisabeth Louise Vigée-Le Brun, Portrait of Mária Franzcisca Palffy (1793)

Galerie Eric Coatalem, Stand 303

Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, Portrait of Maria Franzcisca Palffy, 1793. Courtesy Wildenstein & Co.

Elisabeth Louise Vigée-Le Brun enjoyed almost unprecedented success during her own lifetime as the favorite painter of the doomed French queen Marie Antoinette, and her many portraits have recently been the subject of major traveling retrospectives. Living in exile in the prosperous Habsburg capital of Vienna in the wake of the French Revolution, Vigée-Le Brun painted this spritely portrait of the 21-year-old Countess Mária Franzcisca Palffy as a classical wood nymph. In accordance with emergent Enlightenment values, “Vigée-Le Brun meant to reimagine royalty in accordance with modern, individualist aspirations toward authenticity, transparency, and natural virtue,” as previously discussed on Artsy. Here, the lovely countess holds an unfurling sheet of music: a composition by the prodigy Mozart, whose work was patronized by the sitter’s family.

Pablo Picasso, Portrait of a Bearded Man (1895)

Jaime Eguiguren – Arte y Antigüedades, Stand 362

Pablo Picasso, Portrait of a Bearded Man, 1895. Courtesy of Jaime Eguiguren – Arte y Antigüedades.

“Learn the rules like a pro so you can break them like an artist,” Pablo Picasso famously once said. The iconoclastic Spanish modernist practiced what he preached: He painted this incredibly mature portrait of a red-robed clergyman when he was only 14 years old (a nice perk: it’s signed with his pre-fame name, P. Ruiz). Feel bad about your own accomplishments yet? Early Velázquez-inflected works like these are hard to come by, and hint at the immensely innovative, avant-garde force young Picasso would soon become.

Peter Carl Fabergé, Silver and stone match-striker (before 1896)

Wartski, Stand 311

Peter Carl Fabergé, Silver and stone match-striker, before 1896. Courtesy of Wartski.

Russian jeweler Peter Carl Fabergé is famous for his exquisitely crafted, opulently adorned boxes: fanciful and expensive trinkets gifted between the elites, as well as members of European royal families. The Romanovs were prominent clients, amassing a collection of custom-made, Easter egg–shaped ornaments that feature intricate delights inside. So it’s surprising and amusing to discover this match-striker in the shape of a petulant silver frog, which offers up matches from his rotund backside.

Charles Burchfield, Forest Fire with Moonlight (1920)

Bernard Goldberg, Stand 202

Charles Burchfield, Forest Fire with Moonlight, 1920. Courtesy of Bernard Goldberg.

The eminent American landscape painter Charles Burchfield configured dramatic vistas and humble genre scenes in his prolific body of watercolors. The dark, brooding composition here was created during a highly productive period of Burchfield’s life, several years before he began publicly exhibiting his work. The element of fire features in only a few pieces made over his entire career. In this work, the blaze overtakes the quickly blackening landscape, illuminated by the glowing moon. A naturalist like Burchfield would have known that forest fires aren’t a purely destructive force, but are also necessary and regenerative.

Reginald Marsh, Merry-Go Round (1930)

Hirschl & Adler Galleries, Stand 370

Merry-Go-Round, 1930. Reginald Marsh Hirschl & Adler Galleries

There’s often a seedy undercurrent to Reginald Marsh’s Social Realist style. The American artist turned his attention to New York’s city streets in the interwar period, capturing popular centers of entertainment such as vaudeville and burlesque shows and beachgoers at Coney Island in almost lurid, full-blooded paintings. This colorful merry-go-round scene suggests both an innocence and depravity. From an up-skirt vantage point, the viewer sees three pretty, somewhat vacant female riders in an almost warlike scene. Their faux black stallions snarl as they charge forward; between their bridles, a cigarette-smoking man leers toward a woman who provocatively—or fearfully—sucks on her thumb.

Fulco, Duke of Verdura, The Cole Porter Necklace (ca. 1935)

Siegelson, Stand 360

Fulco, Duke of Verdura, The Cole Porter Necklace, ca. 1935. Courtesy of Siegelson.

For many, a visit to TEFAF is largely aspirational. Personally, I’ve hitched my dreams to this blindingly glittery aquamarine-and-ruby belt-buckle necklace, an Art Deco statement piece that feels startlingly in tune with contemporary street fashion. The necklace was designed by Italian jeweler Fulco di Verdura for Paul Flato’s celebrity-beloved New York jewelry house in 1935. The necklace was prominently featured in a glamorous 1944 Vogue editorial (reproduced at Siegelson’s booth), but it’s provenance reveals its most stylish bona fides: Linda Lee Thomas Porter (aka Mrs. Cole Porter) and Ava Astaire were both previous owners.

from Artsy News

[oneguywithaniphone]

May 19, 1935: Lawrence of Arabia dies

T.E. Lawrence, known to the world as Lawrence of Arabia, dies as a retired Royal Air Force mechanic living under an assumed name. The legendary war hero, author, and archaeological scholar succumbed to injuries suffered in a motorcycle accident six days before.

Thomas Edward Lawrence was born in Tremadoc, Wales, in 1888. In 1896, his family moved to Oxford. Lawrence studied architecture and archaeology, for which he made a trip to Ottoman (Turkish)-controlled Syria and Palestine in 1909. In 1911, he won a fellowship to join an expedition excavating an ancient Hittite settlement on the Euphrates River. He worked there for three years and in his free time traveled and learned Arabic. In 1914, he explored the Sinai, near the frontier of Ottoman-controlled Arabia and British-controlled Egypt. The maps Lawrence and his associates made had immediate strategic value upon the outbreak of war between Britain and the Ottoman Empire in October 1914.

Lawrence enlisted in the war and because of his expertise in Arab affairs was assigned to Cairo as an intelligence officer. He spent more than a year in Egypt, processing intelligence information and in 1916 accompanied a British diplomat to Arabia, where Hussein ibn Ali, the emir of Mecca, had proclaimed a revolt against Turkish rule. Lawrence convinced his superiors to aid Hussein’s rebellion, and he was sent to join the Arabian army of Hussein’s son Faisal as a liaison officer.

Under Lawrence’s guidance, the Arabians launched an effective guerrilla war against the Turkish lines. He proved a gifted military strategist and was greatly admired by the Bedouin people of Arabia. In July 1917, Arabian forces captured Aqaba near the Sinai and joined the British march on Jerusalem. Lawrence was promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel. In November, he was captured by the Turks while reconnoitering behind enemy lines in Arab dress and was tortured and sexually abused before escaping. He rejoined his army, which slowly worked its way north to Damascus, which fell in October 1918.

Arabia was liberated, but Lawrence’s hope that the peninsula would be united as a single nation was dashed when Arabian factionalism came to the fore after Damascus. Lawrence, exhausted and disillusioned, left for England. Feeling that Britain had exacerbated the rivalries between the Arabian groups, he appeared before King George V and politely refused the medals offered to him.

After the war, he lobbied hard for independence for Arab countries and appeared at the Paris peace conference in Arab robes. He became something of a legendary figure in his own lifetime, and in 1922 he gave up higher-paying appointments to enlist in the Royal Air Force (RAF) under an assumed name, John Hume Ross. He had just completed writing his monumental war memoir, The Seven Pillars of Wisdom, and he hoped to escape his fame and acquire material for a new book. Found out by the press, he was discharged, but in 1923 he managed to enlist as a private in the Royal Tanks Corps under another assumed name, T.E. Shaw, a reference to his friend, Irish writer George Bernard Shaw. In 1925, Lawrence rejoined the RAF and two years later legally changed his last name to Shaw.

In 1927, an abridged version of his memoir was published and generated tremendous publicity, but the press was unable to locate Lawrence (he was posted to a base in India). In 1929, he returned to England and spent the next six years writing and working as an RAF mechanic. In 1932, his English translation of Homer’s Odyssey was published under the name of T.E. Shaw. The Mint, a fictionalized account of Royal Air Force recruit training, was not published until 1955 because of its explicitness.

In February 1935, Lawrence was discharged from the RAF and returned to his simple cottage at Clouds Hill, Dorset. On May 13, he was critically injured while driving his motorcycle through the Dorset countryside. He had swerved to avoid two boys on bicycles. On May 19, he died at the hospital of his former RAF camp. All of Britain mourned his passing.

from History.com - This Day in History - Lead Story https://ift.tt/17NnU7k