#heliotrope no koi

[asnowperson]

Caspar David Friedrich, Wanderer above the Sea of Fog (Der Wanderer über dem Nebelmeer), 1818.

Mizuno Hideko, Heliotrope Love (ヘリオトロープの恋, Heliotrope no Koi), 1969.

Different mediums, different artists, but similar vibes...

[thecupidwitch]

Elements And Their Correspondences

Earth

Direction: North

Time: Midnight

Season: Winter

Color: Green, brown

Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Ruling planets: Venus and Saturn

Tarot Cards: Pentacles, Coins

Tools: Pentacle, salt, stones, dirt, crystals, wood, flowers

Cystals: Emerald, Jet, tourmaline, quartz, onyx, azurite, amethyst, jasper, peridot, granite.

Animals: gopher, bear, wolf, ant, horse, stag, deer, dog, cow, bull, bison, snake, worms, moles, voles, grubs

Herbs: Oak, cedar, cypress, honeysuckle, ivy, primrose, sage, grains, patchouli, nuts, magnolia, comfrey, vetivert, moss, lilac, lichen, roots, barley, alfalfa, corn, rice.

Rules: Grounding, strength, healing, success, stability, sturdiness, steadfastness, foundations, empathy, fertility, death, rebirth, wisdom, nature, animals, plants, money, prosperity.

Water

Direction: West

Time: Dusk

Season: Fall

Color: Blue, Indigo, Sliver

Zodiac: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Ruling planets: Moon, Neptune, Pluto

Tarot Cards: Cups

Tools: Ocean, sea glass, cup, bowl, seaweed, hag stones, cauldron

Cystals: Moonstone, pearl, silver, aquamarine, amethyst, blue tourmaline, lapis lazuli, fluorite, coral, blue topaz, beryl, opal, coral

Animals: fish, snake, frog, crab, lobster, eel, shark, dragonfly, seahorse, dolphin, sea otter, seal, whale, alligator, crocodile, beaver, octopus, penguin, salamander, turtle, starfish, koi, coral, barnacle, manta ray, manatee, jellyfish, nautilus, heron, duck, geese, crane, swan, water birds, ammonite, dragons, serpents

Herbs: seaweed, aloe, fern, water lily, lotus, moss, willow, gardenia, apple, catnip, chamomile, cattail, lettuce, kelp, birch, cabbage, coconut, cucumber, comfrey, eucalyptus, gourd, geranium, grape, licorice, lilac, pear, strawberry, tomato

Rules: emotion, intuition, psychic abilities, love, unconscious mind, fertility, self-healing, reflection, lunar energy, deep feelings, curses, death

Fire

Direction: South

Time: Noon

Season: Summer

Color: Red, Orange

Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Ruling planets: Sun, Mars

Tarot Cards: Wands or Swords (depends on belief system)

Tools: Athame, candles, swords, wands, dagger, lamp, flame

Cystals: Carnelian, red jasper, bloodstone, garnet, ruby, agate, rhodochrosite, gold, pyrite, brass, fire opal, lavastone, tiger's eye

Animals: Lion, snake, coyote, fox, ladybug, bee, shark, scorpion, horse, mantis, tiger

Herbs: Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, allspice, basil, cacti, marigold, chilis, garlic, mustard, nettle, onion, heliotrope, hibiscus, juniper, lime, orange, red pepper, poppies, thistle, coffee, jalapenos, lemon, cumin, saffron, coriander

Rules: Energy, will, destruction, strength, courage, power, passion, lust, sexuality, anger, war, new beginnings, protection, loyalty, transformation, action, movement, achievement, creativity, desire, willpower

Air

Direction: East

Time: Down

Season: Spring

Color: Yellow, gold, white, light blue, pastels

Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Ruling planets: Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus

Tarot Cards: Wands

Tools: Feather, wand, staff, incense, broom, bell, sword, pen

Cystals: Amber, topaz, citrine, jasper, agate, pumice, alexandrite, amethyst, fluorite, mica, clear quartz

Animals: Birds, flying insects, spiders, bats

Herbs: Bergamot, lavender, marjoram, peppermint, sage, dandelion, bluebell, clover, frankincense, primrose, lemongrass, pine, aspen, yarrow, violets, vervain, myrrh, dill, anise, aspen

Rules: Intelligence, wisdom, knowledge, logic, thought, communication, truth, inspiration, intuition, memory, creativity

Tip jar

[neato-names]

Color Names

Alizarin

Amaranth

Apple

Auburn

Avadavat

Brick

Burgundy

Cadmium

Cardinal

Carmine

Carnelian

Cherry

Coral

Currant

Ibis

Ladybug

Oxblood

Poppy

Raspberry

Robin

Rose

Rosewood

Ruby

Rust

Sanguine

Scarlet

Spinel

Strawberry

Tourmaline

Upsdell

Venetian

Vermillion

Wine

Zircon

Alloy

Apricot

Autumn

Bronze

Bullfinch

Calcite

Cantaloupe

Cider

Cinnamon

Clinohumite

Copper

Fulvous

Garibaldi

Ginger

Hessonite

Koi

Marmalade

Nutmeg

Oriole/Orioles

Persimmon

Pumpkin

Ranunculus

Salamander

Sandstone

Spice

Squash

Sunstone

Tamarin

Tithonia

Turmeric

Amber

Arylide

Aureolin

Biscotti

Bumblebee

Butter

Buttercup

Buttermilk

Canary

Candle

Candlelight

Chiffon

Colza

Coreopsis

Cornbread

Corydalis

Craspedia

Dandelion

Dijon

Electricity

Flax

Goldenrod

Goldfinch

Gronalo

Honeycomb

Hornet

Icterine

Impatiens

Lemon

Lemonbread

Leopard

Mellow

Monoazo

Nuclear

Oat

Parmesean

Pattypan

Saturn

Shortbread

Siriguela

Sulfur

Sunbeam

Sunflower

Sunglow

Sunlight

Tickseed

Unmellow

Warbler

Xanthic

Yarrow

Yolk

Acid

Aphid

Bitter

Caterpillar

Celadon

Chateau

Chetwode

Chlorophyll

Clover

Emerald

Evergreen

Fern

Frog/Froggy

Grasshopper

Greenmint

Inchworm

Katydid

Laurel

Leaf

Leaves

Lime

Malachite

Mantis

Moss/Mossy

Myrtle

Olive

Parakeet

Pine

Reseda

Sage

Slime/Slimy

Sour

Spring

Swamp

Tea

Thyme

Toxic

Turaco

Verdun

Viridian

Xanadu

Aqua

Aquamarine

Azure

Bleu

Blueberry

Bluebird

Bluejay

Celeste

Cerulean

Cobalt

Dacnis

Delft

Denim

Fairywren

Glaucous

Lapis

Marine

Mazarine

Morpho

Ocean

Peacock

Phthalo

Sapphire

Steel

Teal

Tears

Turquoise

Ultramarine

Uranian

Uranus

Amethyst

Aster

Bosenberry

Byzantium

Charoite

Concord

Coneflower

Cornflower

Eminence

Fuchsia

Heather

Heliotrope

Hibiscus

Hopbush

Indigo

Jacaranda

Lavender

Lepidolite

Lilac

Lilalite

Liserian

Lisianthus

Lupine

Mauve

Milka

Pansy

Pasque

Periwinkle

Phlox

Pizzazz

Purpureus

Razzmic

Regalia

Scabiosa

Tacao

Teasel

Thistle

Tyrian

Ultraviolet

Verbena

Violet

Wisteria

Cerise (pink)

Chartreuse (green-yellow)

Fluorescence (brightly and harshly colored)

Matte (dull color)

Pastel (youthful color)

Psychedelic (bright and intense colors, usually brought on by hallucinogens)

Quartz (white or pink)

Quicksliver (silver)

Rainbow (color spectrum)

Sugilite (yellow, red, pink, or purple)

[dinos-are-cool-posts]

cottagecore pride flag

I like the way this one looks a lot the colors are really nice

The darker green is for pond water for koi and goldfish

The lighter green is for grass and plants

The orange is for oranges, apples, peaches, ect

The red is for mushrooms and strawberries

And the white is for daisies and heliotrope

use this wherever I don't care about it at all (/pos) just make sure you credit me as the maker

[sambinnie]

‘I’m not bothered at all,’ I say, when people ask me how I feel about my mother finally selling up and moving out of the home she and my father bought three decades ago. I’m not bothered about leaving this house behind at all — it’s still popping with faint echoes and waves of alcohol, and bottled anger and silences, of illness and waiting and death, at last. But the garden! Oh, the garden! I so rarely go into the garden when I visit now, preferring to nudge the children outside so the adults can all nap in the sunlight through the big windows for a brief handful of minutes. But the last time we visit before my mother moves, the sky is blue, the sun is strong, and I am drawn outdoors.

When we moved here thirty years ago, the garden was genuinely magical. The previous owners, in possession of green fingers and an interest in their outdoor space, both of which my parents lacked, had built a wonderland beyond their back door. A rose walkway, paved, and swagged with blooms and thorns; a stone circle tucked halfway down one side, hedged with box and bamboo and red hot pokers, where a sundial stood for my spell-casting; green-spreading winter heliotrope that we all called triffids, before I knew what triffids were; a pond with bright koi carp, and a clear floating ball like a hardened bubble I could tap with one foot to break the thin ice on the winter water; the Narnian pines occasionally dusted with snow; the abundant apple trees, left to wither and fade under our lack of care. I remember the honeysuckle, drenching the evenings with its impossible liquid scent, and the bats that would flap over our heads if we stayed up late enough, a family talking in soft voices just at the edge of where the house lights reached.

The garden seemed enormous to me; as a teenager, I saw it shrink again — partly the encroaching weeds and unstopped trees, partly that it never quite seemed big enough to ensure our cigarette smoke wasn’t drifting back to my parents’ window. Now, as an adult sunk deep in property market hypnosis, it seems gigantic again. When I sit at the bottom of the garden writing this, the children have to call twice to find me.

The rose walkway became, over a decade or more, an impenetrable Sleeping Beauty thicket, until years later we spent two summers hacking it down and burning the bramble limbs and rotted wood frame. The pond, with the speckled arrival of grandchildren and an acknowledgement that the remaining green sludge was unlikely to grow any more attractive, had the water bucketed out and soil bucketed in. I dug it out a few years later to remove the plastic moulded base, and found it full of potatoes, which my mother had planted then subsequently forgotten about completely.

The willow tree loomed beside the house for years — the rope swing tied over one branch became embedded in the folded-over bark, but it was always the perfect spot to sit, away from everything, watching and listening through the narrow leaves, until it felt safe to return — but the whole tree was cut down when it was found to be pulling up the water pipes and threatening the foundations of the house. Chunks of the willow still lie around the garden, like stage-dressing from a woodland fairytale.

Because I generally only went out in good weather, the garden was always in summer. I remember how long it would take to set up a sunbathing session with my sister: towels, music, books, sunglasses, pints of ice water, ice creams from the petrol station at the end of the road, suncream, barely, and magazines, hats, snacks, cushions. I remember my sister being back at home one weekday, and me telling my manager at the local packing factory that I had a dentist appointment in the middle of the day, just so we could lie out in the garden together for a few hours, before I returned to work beet-faced and dizzied. I remember camping being the same, three hours of preparations and props before it became too cold or scary and we’d ship back inside.

None of us were gardeners enough to take proper advantage of the size and opportunity. Any fruiting plant that survived longer that a few seasons was the victim of sheer luck — we’d harvest blackberries when we tumbled upon them, but we never dug and laid out and cared for the veg beds a garden like that deserved. The noticeable anomaly is the fig tree, still giving out handfuls of fat, splitting figs each summer despite getting no more care than anything else in this semi-wilderness. My sole sign of hostility towards the new owners is a passing urge to snap off all the unripe figs, to prevent these strangers reaping the rewards of our indolence, for this year at least.

The birdsong is so familiar to me, even though in thirty years I have not identified a single one. A chattering, a chirruping, a gentle caw, a repeating coo-hoo-coo that woke me most mornings; I leave them all in this garden for the next child to discover and absorb. (My garden is a fraction of this size, and I wonder what I would pay to transport this garden to my own house, somehow — the kind of thought I would have spent hours pondering the logistics of in the garden, slowly grilling beside the triffids — for our children to become lost in, to feel safe in. I feel sadder to lose this garden than I did to lose my father. I want to stay here, and stay, and stay.)

I never wore shoes in the garden, and accepted the occasional thorn from a hidden thistle as the required price. The soles of my feet were often black, and always thickened. I saw daisies covered in dew, pink-tipped and sleeping. I heard hedgehogs, and foxes, and mice, and never once wondered how much our mostly elderly neighbours could hear us all, or how much they minded. The garden is paddling pools with scuba-gear made from drinking straws, it is my elder sisters promising a warm jug of water over me once I’ve had two more cold ones, and me still growing up to love them, it is a parent-free party where the beers are chilling in the same paddling pool but my sister, left to chaperone, is gently placed in bed at 7.45 after eating too many of the hash brownies while the rest of us hang out in the gloaming; it is filled with children, ours, our nephews and nieces, our friends’, us, it is silence and peace, hope and space, and private worlds a thousand acres wide and a thousand years long. (This garden brings out my buried sentimentality.)

The sundial is gone, the willow is gone, the pond is gone, the rose walkway is gone. What was once a compost heap has grown into a pile of rubble and weeds, so noticeable that the buyers’ surveyor declared it could only be an old air-raid shelter, requiring professional clearance.

I still do not know the bird names.

[heliotrope-journey]

Good morning, vampire hunters.

We ‘d like to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day! Sidiyq Qadim and I had put together this romantic Japanese garden thriving with cherry blossom trees last month to remind you that expressing care and compassion to a loved one or a friend doesn’t have to cost a cent. A piece of advice I overhead a long time ago was that handmade gifts that come straight from the heart are the most valuable gestures of them all. If you’re unable to afford a gift at all, a trip to a museum with cheap admission or staying in is good recommendation from us. Just remember to memorize what sparks your companion’s interest. ;) Photo by Sora Sagano on Unsplash.

In other news, despite having a lot going on in real life (You’re going down, stress!), I have just started writing dialogue for the third pilot episode while the other artists and I continue to cook up more assets to flesh out the swampy environment that makes up the Anura Duchy near Norsdale.

Sincerely,

WN

[heliotrope-journey]

Love (and a New Story) is In the Air

Good evening, vampire hunters.

We hope you had a great Valentine's Day. This year, KawaiiPixelArts, Sidiyq Qadim, and some of their friends are revisiting the cherry blossom forest not to "Netflix and chill", but to take in the scenery, watch the koi fish in the pristine pools, and get some practice in. How enriching. ^_^

And now, for what's to come for The Heliotrope Chronicles;

Our next update will focus on Chapter 3 where Frederick and Eforie continue their trek toward Baudelaire Village, but they stray farther and farther from safety as their route leads them to a mountainous part of the Conifers Kingdom and the existence of magic is more noticeable. Even in broad daylight, there's a sense of dread that darkness is soon to come. Frederick once had a secret desire to become more than human and revel in increasing his power to near-Satanic proportions. His former relationship with a fallen angel nearly led him astray from his cause in exchange for that fulfillment and now, Carmilla's handmaiden seeks to reignite that side of him for a plan she is hatching. If Frederick and Eforie wish to save themselves from this ghost from the former's past, they will need to stick together and find the rest of their missing friends. Should they be separated for even half a minute, it might be curtains for their quest.

Thank you for your support as usual and have a good weekend!

Sincerely,

WN