#coountry life

[mamedorilabo]

sashiko stitch

Hello,April. Time goes by quickly. Spring has come at my hometown. Sakura are a special flower for Japanese.

let's get back to the today's topics. Today, I would like to introduce a new works.

I recently made a bag from an old stained jute bag, dyed with persimmon tannin and reinforced with many stitches. Sashiko is an old Japanese technique to strengthen cloth with many stitches. I used up the old jute bags without any scraps. It is made entirely from vegetable materials, so it go back to the soil.

This bag is hand quilted with cotton inside. The handles of this bag are stuffed with old cloth. All the cloth of this bag is recycled from very old items. It takes a very long time, but we have created a very beautiful, durable, and environmentally friendly bag. See you later!

[hachibe]

What are your hc about Alex in India season? What would be the plot? The pressure? What songs you want used in the season?

ok, i suck at this but here is my attempt:

So, after having broken up with Mia, Alex goes back to London and he does try to focus on his studies and his work but nothing makes sense anymore. He feels numb and empty inside. He tries taking up different hobbies, he tries cooking classes, photography, wall climbing thingy, he tries some classes in chinese, nude painting, but they are all temporary distractions. Until one day he goes to an yoga class. So far so good. He liked the class, nothing surprising or anything, it didn’t change his life, he is a little sweaty, maybe, but the teacher really left an impression on him. So he goes back every week. It goes like that for a while until is not enough again. His feeling of usefulness just grows. But at the same time an idea starts to grow as well. He wants to leave everything behind, start anew, and his yoga teacher is so nice, looks so put together, and he talks about India a lot. So Alex gets fixated on travelling to India and one day, without telling anyone he just leaves. Like that. He packs a small bag, grabs his passport and his black credit card and heads to the airport.And so it starts. The first week is great, everything is amazing, everything is fascinating. The food is great and the hotel is exotic albeit comfortable enough for his privileges. And then week 2 he gets robbed in a train. i’m not gonna pretend i know anything about India He is kind of lost, in a weird country, in an unknown city, with people that he has difficulty in communicating with. So he has to work to get food and shelter. First two days he is bitter. He hates everybody, he hates this damn coountry! He hates Mia! It’s her fault he got robbed in a foreign country!But then, the power of honest work does him wonders and he feels calm, and purposeful. He life has meaning, he loves everybody. Until a couple of days later he spots someone he think he knows. Is Abdi! He’s lost! And so happy when he sees Alex. Finally! A known face! So Alex takes care of him, feeds him and lets him stay in his crib. Apparently Abdi got lost one day and things happened and he doesn’t know how he ended up in India. They start talking and realize they have a lot in common, with one being physically lost and the other mentally. They bond.A couple of days later, the credit card company finally manages to send Alex his new one (idk how these things works) so Alex quits his job and takes off with Abdi in their tour through India. They visit several temples, bathe in some sacred rivers, see some elephants, Abdi loves it, and Alex gets a little caught up staring at Abdi’s beautiful face. He is so happy, it makes his guts flutter with butterflies.  What is happening???? Mia who????One day Samuel calls, Alex needs to go back to Germany. Their trip is about to end. Alex feels so bad! He doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want to go back to his miserable life. But most of all, so much has changed with Abdi, he doesn’t want to go back to how they were before this. So, in a starry night, while they are chiiling have some booze and looking at the starts, Alex turns and just kisses Abdi. The world stops! But also speeds up. Abdi is frozen in place! He doesn’t say a word. Alex is scared he might have ruined everything. So he starts talking. He apologizes, he feels so dumb. And he is vomiting words when all of a sudden Abdi grabs him and kisses him again. And then he says:

They kiss again and again, the camera slowly moves away in a beautiful drone shot of the Indian night. 

It’s praise and celebrated by white people all over europe as one of the best skam seasons of all times.the end.

[kattegat-kittycat]

Fates Entwined II: We’ll be as one

Second Chapter to Fates Entwined. Part I 

After your former clan was brutally murdered, you agree to an arranged marriage with Ivar to keep your social status. You may not always see eye to eye and sometimes even find yourself on different sides of one war or the other, but somehow you can never escape each other no matter how much you try to forget, deny and run. Somehow you always end up in each other’s faces. Sometimes quite literally.

A/N: This was a chapter that had to be written to get the story going, so the writing dragged on slowly. Also, loads to do on the work front and stuff. Well, now this is done, I can get to the actual story :) Have fun!

Here we are in this fatal design But we'll be as one Under the sun and we're facing out for hope

Entwine - Fatal Design

Sigurd sighed. “Why is she getting married to Ivar? Why not one of us? We are older than him, we should get married first.”

Ubbe sighed. “So, tell me Sigurd, would you really want to be married off to the daughter of an old friend of mother’s? I for my part would rather stay a free man until I find a woman I want to marry.”

“Yes, yes, but why did no one even ask or consider us?” Sigurd answered.

Hvitserk shrugged. “Do you of all people even need an explanation for mother’s behaviour when it comes to little Ivar? Especially now that someone found out that he is not a real man?”

Sigurd shook his head. “Of course not. But that is just it. If they don’t get a child, everyone will question what is wrong with Ivar. It will shove it into their faces rather than hide it.”

Now Ubbe shrugged. “Unless mother tells one of us to fuck her so it looks like Ivar can produce offspring.”

“I wouldn’t mind”, Hvitserk chuckled, “She’s pretty.”

Sigurd looked exasperated. “She is not a good fit for Ivar, she is way too peaceful and rational.”

“Which is exactly why she is to marry your brother.” Aslaug interrupted as she entered the room. “If you must know, I had a vision. It was cruel and brutal and bloody. Ivar had lost control. And then she was sent here by the Gods. A woman strong enough to reign him in, but soft and forgiving enough to encourage his potential and support him. Her mother was one of the greatest shield maidens I know and she raised her as one, too. She can protect Ivar, when the war comes to Kattegat.”

The eyes of all three sons were on her. “Mother, no one can reign in Ivar. Let alone control him. You should know that.” Hvitserk said quietly.

“Then may the Gods be with you, my sons. Stay together and support each other, don’t let anybody come between you.Help your brother find his place in the world, because that is what he is ultimately looking for. Otherwise…the world will burn and we will have to surrender ourselves to the mercy of the Gods.”

 ***

 We had both gone through the cleansing rituals in the bath houses in the morning, after which we had gotten ready for the actual ceremony. They had to make a few adjustments due to Ivar’s condition, but all in all they tried to honour the traditions. As I had no heirlooms or family present, Margarete had woven a beautiful crown of hay, flowers and colourful bands for me, which was to be placed on my braided hair. She had also been one of the women to accompany me to the bath house to sweat and cleanse and thus bid farewell to my maidenhood. A few other women from the town had been with us, but somehow there had been a tension in the air. Everybody seemed to be afraid for me, but nobody dared say anything. It made me nervous, but I knew it was too late to bow out now. 

It was only an hour to our wedding, when I sat in the flower crown and a flowing dress in Aslaug’s room and waited for Margarete to finish braiding my hair, when she suddenly looked around. Aslaug and a few other slave girls had left the room a few minutes ago and we were alone for the first time.

“You…you can still run, if you want to.” Margarete suddenly whispered close to my ear.

I turned to look at her, interrupting her work. Her face seemed worried and sincere.

“And why are you suggesting this?” I asked, harsher than I intended to sound, because I could see her flinch. Many of the girls thought that I was a former slave and had been captured somewhere else. I wasn’t sure what Margarete thought of me, but I had learned early on that slaves and servants were more than willing to spill their masters’ secrets when you treated them with kindness. And they knew a lot of the things the families would never want to get public. So I was more than willing to be her friend and listen to what she had to say.

Margarete didn’t meet my eyes, though, and she was about to apologise for speaking out of turn, when I smiled softly at her. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I am just so nervous. You probably have your reasons and you know these people, this family better than I do, so I beg you, tell me why you think it might be better to leave a place where I am being offered a safe harbour?”

She looked relieved first, then slightly troubled.

“Ivar…he is…he is scary. He can be…cruel. His brothers asked me to sleep with him and I was in no position to refuse them. And afterwards he repeatedly threatened my life. He said he’d kill me and if it weren’t for Ubbe and Hvitserk, I am pretty sure, he would have gone through with it.”

“But why? Did you give him any reason?”

“I know too much. That is the other thing; you should know that Ivar cannot… he is unable to perform his male duties. And I am sure, he felt ashamed and frustrated and that is why he wanted to murder me.”

I looked at her, deep in thought. Was she telling the truth or did she have an ulterior motive? Did she maybe want to have Ivar for herself? Then again, the way she shivered when she said his name and her scared look seemed honest.

“I am very close to Ubbe and Hvitserk, and they too say that Ivar has trouble controlling his anger. Please be warned, he can be cruel. As a child, they say, he killed another boy during a ball game, because they would not throw him the ball. He is beautiful, yes, he looks like an angel with his blue eyes and dark hair, and his brilliant smile, but he is the devil. He…”

We heard footsteps and instantly we resumed our roles, she silently braiding my hair and I sitting there patiently. Before, we had shared a quick look and knew that neither of us would be talking about our conversation, and when Aslaug entered the room, we looked like nothing ever happened.

Now, I understood the looks of the women better. Nobody knew Ivar, truly knew him. All they saw was an unpredictable boy, spoiled by his overprotective mother.

***

I arrived at the ceremony escorted by Hvitserk, who took the stead of my brother in the ceremony. Right before we arrived at the altar, Hvitserk turned to me and smiled. It was a friendly smile, but there was pity behind his eyes.

“Are you ready to get married?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Is any woman ever ready to marry?” I said with a fake smile.

He grinned. “I have heard of women waiting all their lives for that day.”

“I have never been one of them. But I am happy. And I hope, Ivar will be happy as well.”

“I am not sure Ivar would know what happiness feels like if it poked him with a stick. But maybe you can change that. He deserves some happiness in his life. But if he ever mistreats you, you come and tell me, alright?”

I nodded. My smile felt more real now. “Thank you, Hvitserk.”

He was about to say something, but was broken off, as we heard the sound of a horn over the bay and saw the longboat arrive that carried Ivar. For the occasion, Floki had built him something like a wooden throne that was carried by four men. There was a small sense of unease on his face, but he seemed to enjoy the attention. By his side were his other two brothers and Floki, in the absence of his father. What a sorry couple we were. The cripple without his father present and the girl from nowhere who had neither family nor hope without this alliance. I could see why I was being married off to the cripple. But there was something to be said about alliances between people who share the same or similar predicament. Sometimes the whole is more than the sum of its parts. And maybe Ivar and I could help each other to achieve a greater future for the two of us.

When Ivar and his small band of relatives had arrived beside me and Hvitserk, his throne was set down and the four men who had carried it, hurried away. Ivar looked up to me and smiled incomprehensively. But before we could exchange any words, the gothi, our priest, already started the ritual.

“Ivar and Y/N, we are here to lead you into marriage, to forge a bond between you, too strong to be broken by fate, suffering or mere men interfering. We will ask the Gods to bless your marriage and protect it from anyone and anything.”

He took a few branches of fir and dipped them into the bowl on the altar, which contained the blood of a goat, only to sprinkle us with the blood. I could feel Ivar’s gaze on me, looking for my reaction. I looked back at him and smiled. His face was spotted with little dots of blood and suddenly, I was in a coountry far away from home. People around me were fighting, there was a battle raging within the walls of an unfamiliar city. It was built from materials I didn’t know or we didn’t have at our disposal. Everything looked strange and different. In the center of it all, I could see Ivar. Older, his hair longer, but braided. He wore armour and chainmail, he was sitting on the ground in front of a strange looking cart, screaming at the onlookers that they could never kill him. His face was covered in blood and it was a ghastly sight. The scenery changed and I could see Ivar throwing an axe at Sigurd. It hit home and Sigurd dropped to the ground dead. Another change of scenery, I was back in Kattegat, and I could see Ivar standing – standing! – amidst the ruins of the city, facing Ubbe and cutting his throat. Yet another jump and I saw Ivar staring at a blood-eagled man, his brothers around him. Another change and Ivar, older and with a beard, was cowering over the dead body of Hvitserk, the city burning around him. The jumps came faster now, I saw him lead an army against Björn. Could see him cry at the grave of his mother. Look at a stillborn baby. Strangle a woman. Then there he was, fighting Lagertha. And suddenly I was back in the present. I had only missed a few seconds of the ceremony, even though it had felt like half a lifetime to me, as the gothi sacrificed the rest of the goat’s blood to Thor, by pouring it onto heated stones in a hearth close to the altar.

I frantically looked for Aslaug and when I locked eyes with her, she knew. I could see it in her face, she knew that I had seen and what I had seen. She quickly glanced away. She had known all along, because this was the fate of her blood. And now, it would be the fate of my blood as well. There was no doubt that the Gods had already seen, accepted and challenged us as a married couple. I took a deep, shaky breath. Ivar looked up to me and in his sing-sang voice asked me:

“What is the matter, is anything wrong?”

I shook my head, fighting back tears. “Nothing, I am just getting emotional.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Women…” he muttered.

I was relieved he had bought this little white lie that was drenched in scarlet blood, but I really had to talk to Aslaug.

We continued with the tying of the knot and the exchange of the swords we had brought, but I could hardly concentrate. I needed answers. I had never been a seer and I did not wish for any further disturbing visions. What had I gotten myself into?

[useless-element]

The American Life.

I always dream to be in America living the most out of my life. Western coountry like America or Canada influence the way I live and dream. I always wanted to see myself attending in american high school, where thers is a locker, a gym, no uniform, a prom, a wide plaza, a thick white chicks and so on where our school or our country could'nt ever provide unless you are in private school.

And I always dream to get into an prestigous universities like Harvard, Yale, NYU, Princeton, Stanford or Oxford. But, in my heart, it is alwyas NYU. Idk why, but I just like their hoodie jacket the colors, the school environment which is widley open no uniform. I want to experience what it feels like to be part of the NYU.

And there is also a dream of mine to live in NY. New York is evryones dream. I eager to be there. I want to witness in my own eyes what NY is. How beatiful the city is. The MSG. The snow. And everything that NY made beautiful, astonising, and famous.

But I can't deny the fact that all of this is all sort of a fantasy of mine which only exist in my imagination. I am no capable of being the person who I am suppose to be. Im just a 21 yrs old with my 15 yrs old subconcious. I never grow. And for the last 6 years I never see any changes in my body, my mindset, and my behaviour. I just trap in my teenage life struggling to escape from daydreaming.

[yxxna]

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