#meinrad

[postcard-from-the-past]

Prince Léopold Philippe Charles Albert Meinrad Hubert Marie Michel of Belgium, Duke of Brabant, later King Leopold III

Belgian vintage postcard

[hiljametsa]

Frühlingsferie, 27.III.1917

Fröhlich schritten wir dem Waldgelände zu. Im weichen Moose liesen wir uns nieder. In den Wipfeln rauschte der Abendwind, sonst schwermütige Stille. Weiche, duftige Schatten füllten rings den Wald. Drüben, über der Kette des Albis floss eine goldige Dämmerung, aus Licht und Schatten zauberhaft gewoben, wie verklärt erschien in diesem Zauberlicht dem Liebenden die Geliebte. Ich konnte den Blick nicht von ihr wenden. Wie ein Kranz umschlang das dunkle Haar den Kopf. Die schönen geschweiften Brauen, die langen seidenen Wimpern, das süße Gesicht, die himmlische Gestalt — mir war es, als sähe ich zum ersten Male, daß sie so schön sei, so wunderschön.  Ihre dunkeln Wimpern hoben sich, und aus der Tiefe ihrer Augen leuchtete und glänzte es mir so wunderbar entgegen; daß mir das Herz stillstand in der Brust. Und wir sanken uns in die Arme, tauschten heisse Küsse und sprachen von Liebe und Lenz.

---

Merrily we proceeded into the woodland. We lay ourselves down on soft moss. A misty evening wind blew in the treetops, then a melancholic silence. Soft, delicate shadows lengthened around the forest. In the distance, over the chain of the Albis, streamed a golden twilight, magically woven of light and shadow; likewise in this enchanting light the belovéd appears radiant before her lover.  I could not turn my eyes away from her. As a garland her dark hair ringed her face. The beautifully curved brows, the long silken lashes, the sweetest visage, the heavenly whole. It seemed to me that I was seeing her for the first time, that she was so beautiful, miraculously beautiful.  She raised her dark lashes and out of the depths of her eyes there shone such a gleaming wonder at me that my heart stood still in my breast. And we fell into each other’s arms, exchanging passionate kisses and speaking of love and spring.

[fleshgrunt]

My PPR OCs Casimir and Meinrad (both of them are freaks)

[da2supremacy]

Warden Rook with chronic insomnia made worse by the blight nightmares playing cards all night with lucanis and spite in the kitchen.

Is this anything?

[pepimeinrad]

Hallo Taxi 1958 Film vs. 2025

[driftlessbirch]

By Meinrad Craighead

It's so powerful to see Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, spinning thread and Mary weaving with it. This is an intimate family activity, and the weaving can happen only because of the spinning. I wish more liturgical art was like this

[propheticmystic]

Praying With Images: Blood Mysteries

[innervoiceartblog]

Meinrad Craighead Praying with Images cut 1

[abwwia]

Meinrad Craighead (1936–2019) was an artist, scholar, and visionary, influential in the field of woman-centered religious art. Her work explores the human relationship to the Divine, particularly feminine images of God.

https://meinradcraighead.com/

Meinrad Craighead was born Charlene Marie Craighead in 1936 in North Little Rock, Arkansas, one of three daughters in a Catholic family. She discovered her love of art when her father gifted her drawing charcoal. She experienced her first "real religious experience" at the age of seven during an experience in nature with her dog.

Craighead was raised in Chicago, and attended Catholic school until she entered the University of Wisconsin, receiving a Master of Fine Arts in 1960.

photo:

Meinrad Craighead Mother and Daughter,

Meinrad Craighead Wolfmilk Nursing, 1992

Meinrad Craighead with her dogs Akkama and Brimos, photo by Gay Block 1999

________________

post inspired by: Weavers of Wisdom: Women Mystics of the 20th Century by Anne Bancroft

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#Meinrad #Craighead #MeinradCraighead #womenmystics #femalemystic #femalephilosophers #womensart #artbywomen #weaversofwisdom #PalianShow

[postcard-from-the-past]

Prince Albert Léopold Clément Marie Meinrad of Belgium, later King Albert I of Belgium and his wife Princess Elisabeth Gabriele Valérie Marie of Bavaria

Belgian vintage postcard

[hiljametsa]

28.III. Zitternd schlich sich der junge Morgen ins Zimmer. Ich glaubte mich noch bei ihr, wie ich süß ruhte in ihren Armen. “Herr Gott, laß unsere Liebe immer rein und heilig sein. Unsere Seelen sollen bleiben, weiß wie der frisch gefallene Schnee. Herr beschütze uns, gegen den bösen Feind, hilf uns kämpfen gegen ihn, wenn er einen Angriff uns wagen sollte. Aber mit deiner Hilfe O Herr werden wir ihn(? sic. in) schlagen, wir werden die Sieger sein ins Kampfe, mit deiner Hilfe, beschütze uns.  Herr ich weiß daß Du mich nicht verlassest. In der großen Not, da fehlte ich zu Dir, bat Dich Allmächtiger um Hilfe, gegen Bösen und seinen weltlichen Gehilfen. Da sandest Du mir einen Engel, die Unschuld selbst. Du hattest mein Gebet erhört, liesest mich nicht untergehen, nein, höher, höher liesest Du mich steigen. Durch Deinen Engel siegte ich. Herr ich danke Dir. Die Liebe ist’s und der eiserne Willen, die siegen über den schwarzen Gesellen!

---

28.III. Trembling, the young morning crept into the room. I believed myself still with her, resting sweetly in her arms. “Lord God, let our love be always pure and holy. That our souls should remain white as the fresh fallen snow. Lord protect us against the evil Adversary, help us strive against him, if he dare assault us. But with Your help, O Lord, we will defeat him, we will be the victors in battle, with Your help, protect us.  Lord I know that You do not forsake me. In great need, there I ran to You, beseeching You the Almighty for help against the Evil One and his worldly accomplices. You sent me an angel, Purity herself. You heard my prayer and You do not let me down, no, higher, higher You let me ascend. Through Your angel I prevail. Lord, I thank You. It is love and an iron will which are victorious over the dark foes.

[designedbyced]

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[rwpohl]

die halbzarte, rolf thiele 1958

ganovenehre, wolfgang staudte 1966

[da2supremacy]

Philia 5 or Ludus 2 for the types of love ask game, if you like!

What is their most fervent wish for their best friend(s)? How far would they go to make it happen?

Meinrad's worldstate is an unfortunate one because Harding made the sacrifice and Harding *WAS* their best friend. Their most fervent wish for their bestie can't come true because that wish is that Harding was alive.

So they've taken it upon themself to look after Taash. Not that they wouldn't have anyway because Taash is also a beloved friend of theirs but Taash lost their mother AND their girlfriend in quick succession. While it's probably not accurate to say they're alone now they could use having someone in their corner and Meinrad would like to think that Lace would appreciate it.

That's how the two of them get the idea to go searching post game in the Deeproads to see if they can find a Titan and commune with (potentially) Lace's consciousness in The Stone. Meinrad was a Warden for a good decade. They can probably remember their way through a few of these Thaigs. It's a GREAT idea and they won't hear everyone anyone saying otherwise.

They prematurely age Emmrich by years with every expedition. But...Denial is an important part of grief right...? They're so good at it, ya know...?

I don't think Sulanni is in touch with her feelings enough to actually have a fervent wish on behalf of her friends but she is very concerned for Lucanis. I think her wish for his safety when he's the FIRST TALON and he can't even dispose of a single traitor probably leads her to getting herself into a bit of trouble with incessant meddling in Lucanis' affairs post game. The only person who hates it more than Caterina is Viago because WHY is his protege doing so much for a DIFFERENT house? But all of Caterina's attempts on her life are worth it to ensure Lucanis' survival. This is really Caterina's fault for putting a proverbial herbivore in the place of an apex predator.

Her most fervent wish is obviously to be the maid of honor at the Nevcanis wedding.

Thistle's fervent wish is to stay together. After the gods are gone there's plenty of work to do on a macro scale. Institutions that were once sacrosanct have been dismantled and the world's old prejudices and injustices did not go away overnight. They have each conquered a major issue in their path and they've put a foot forward with renewed conviction. She's so proud of them but she's also worried that the absence of a common goal might pull them all apart.

Sometimes that's just life. She has to remind herself that even if they don't see each other as much they're still in one another's hearts. She makes efforts to plan Davrin's funeral first. Early on so it's easier to get everyone together. After that she joins the book club herself, organizes a few get togethers. Lucanis loves cooking after all. As time goes on the anxiety eases. It turns out that the key to granting that wish is just to hold your hand out as often as you can.

Is your OC particularly skilled at flirting? Have they had to practice this or does it just happen naturally?

Sulanni is a crow so of course she's had training for these sorts of things. She's a good looking lady and she's more than happy to use the racial profiling of "pretty elves" to finish a contract on the type of rabble who would go around having a fetish for elves. Honestly it's hard to say where the Crow's training ends and Sulanni's natural inclinations begin. She has trouble turning it off and flirts continuously without any intentions whatsoever. Actual emotional vulnerability will throw her off her groove near instantly.

I picked Davrin for her because everyone else's romantic banter was too subtle. This woman has the subtly of a brick through a window. I couldn't do Crow for Crow bc Sulanni would eat Lucanis alive. Sulanni is a femme fatale. She has Davrin hunt her for sport sometimes and when she's getting a little too flippant with the seduction he goes and builds her a piece of furniture to remind her that he's in it for the long haul. And also that she should quit the Crows. He would kill every Crow that came after them. Just think about it, alright?

On the other hand Meinrad is the functional opposite. Flirtations bounce off of their impervious force field entirely unnoticed. When they seduce people it's because they lack a filter on their compliments and it's entirely on accident. They're usually halfway into a relationship before they realize what's happening and then they panic and jump ship as soon as possible. It only works with Emmrich because Emmirch makes his intentions clear and asks. Emmrich also implies that he might be interested several scenes before any commitment which gives Meinrad time to mull it over and decide, "Hey, you know what? Yeah." If you can't do at least that much it's a like...20% chance they'll even notice and they'll be ready to buy a ring before they understand their own emotions well enough to flirt.

Once in a committed, explicitly stated relationship though it's statements of devotion every other sentence. They're a gay wifeguy. This is truly what Emmrich deserves. Hezenkoss wishes she could vomit.

Thistle is generally not really thinking about this kind of thing but she is determined enough to pull Nevecanis. I don't think her particular brand of flirting would actually work on most people. She's just really okay with the macabre, unbothered by the assassin/mob boss thing and unrelentingly optimistic. She's ace but in more of a "Well I don't really experience attraction but romance is kind of fun and sex is just like, you know, an activity." kind of way. This is probably why her solution to having a crush on two of her friends is to get those two friends together and then see if she can tag along. Flirting is never first on her list but when it happens the sincerity factor makes it pretty devastating.

[pepimeinrad]

Zentralfriedhof / Neustift am Walde / Großgmain

[meinradsocien]

Agama the Lizard and Foxy the Lazy Fox (A short inspirational story by Meinrad Socien)

Agama had quick morning routines. Filling his belly was priority number one, but never allowing it to fill was his ordeal. So, he happened to meet his usual friend who was up to a hundred times his size, Foxy the lazy fox. The two had grown up together and had shared glorious moments not to be forgotten.

In the morning, they met. Confess, if their future is correct. Separate, hunt eat get fat.

“Each time I see you, my friend, you are running at supersonic speeds,” Foxy said, temporarily putting a halt to Agama’s dash. “It could have been interesting to watch only your skeleton running at this speed. I’d love to see it rattle and burn.”

“I have a meal to catch,” Agama said. “It is my priority. But should there be a need, ordeals can be addressed ahead of priorities. A meal is my priority. Life is my ordeal.”

Agama sped past. Throwing his body in the air, covering distances between rocks with jumps and briefly becoming airborne. The act of getting to the meal was exhausting and Agama’s worst fear was to arrive late. Today he was lucky.

A pride of lions were taking an early daybreak. No one would tell the kings when to work or rest because their work is usually easy to see when there is something to their credit. Agama’s breakfast climbed up and down the lion’s mane because it was attracted to the head region. The juicy green flies had picked up the scent of animal meat that the lions had eaten early in the morning. The smell was a signal and flies were answering quickly.

Agama was skilful. On two feet he jumped and caught a fly in mid-air. It was just an appetiser. He needed forty such at this dining table to walk off a lizard with no need for an extra supplement for the whole week. But halfway to the target, the lion roared, having noticed Agama diving into the mane.

Agama had heard the message. He was not going to overstay his invitation. He left, respecting his ordeal. A lion would not have taken a minute to end Agama’s ordeal if it ever wanted to.

From a distance, the fox was watching. So he waited for Agama in the path of the latter. “Well, your dining phase did not last long enough to tickle all the corners of your tummy.”

“Well,” Agama cleared his throat enough to offload his internals at once. “If you are digging through the refusal pit in the king’s compound, set your satisfaction standards lower. Even when you are digging after he has permitted you to do so, he may decide again and consider you a thief. Since you will never know which decision of his is final, take the fewest you can and take off.”

If you are digging through the refusal pit in the king’s compound, set your satisfaction standards lower. Even when you are digging after he has permitted you to do so, he may decide again and consider you a thief.

The fox laughed, his jaws separating wide, “He who set virtues that stop him from achieving his intentions, is scared. Fear is the enemy. Fear keeps you hungry.”

“If you wish, you can turn down a piece of advice, countering it through words of wisdom and they may help anyone while ruining you, Foxy. What qualifies words of wisdom is not the words themselves, it is relevance. I…” Agama could not finish his wordy response. Foxy had taken off.

Closer was a tree. A Martial Eagle had left a whole rabbit on the top branch. Habitually the Martial would let its prey roast on tree tops in the scorching heat of the savannah. It would wait for the result at the end of the day. A tender sun-cooked meat.

Having located the rabbit through scent, Foxy climbed the tree. He salivated on the rabbit. In his words, he was, ‘marinating the rabbit with oral spices.’ He dissected it into two and left one half as he climbed down with another.

In a cave nearby, Foxy ate steadfastly and his belly was full. He contemplated snatching the remaining piece of the rabbit. But just in time Agama, who had been looking for Foxy entered the cave and warned, “The Martial would not want you to steal from him for the second time.”

“You know I usually go back and steal the remaining meal. Why are you trying to stop me now?” Foxy licked his mouth, wiping it clean of the blood stains.

“I have noticed what the Masai humans do when they steal from lions.” Agama gestured in the direction he wanted them to take, leaving the cave. He was like a tour guide. But Foxy was not in love with the direction he was being led.

“What silly humans do?” Foxy was unconcerned. He was trying to close this dry conversation with his friend. It was only respect that was stopping him. He needed to be up in the tree and steal the remaining meat.

Agama convinced his friend to follow him. They rushed through the jungle until they rested on top of a rock pile mother nature had arranged millions of years ago to be Agama’s “viewpoint”.

“Do you see the lions,” Agama said, lying flat on the rock to capture the reserves of its heat. I want you to observe closely.”

“You just took me to a rock because you love sun basking here,” Foxy said in a giving-up gesture, feigning to return to his routines. “It is not a legend that lizards die of heat, cooked alive, enjoying the heat of the rocks. You came here to show me how you die?”

“Look,” the lizard calmly gestured with the head where the lions were beginning to dig into their buffalo meal. “The Masai men are getting closer, and they will rob the lions in daylight.”

Three Masai humans imposed themselves as the real threat to the lions. In a rare display of confidence, they kept advancing towards where the lions had started to dissect the Buffalo. Agama commended as the lions dispersed leaving all their meat to the there humans, “If you must steal from the king of the jungle. You need to believe that you are unstoppable. Once you start walking towards your target. Do not pull back. Because your target can turn you into its target once you give it your back.”

“So, am I here to be taught about how lions are chased away by the Three Musketeers? Coach?” Foxy looked down on Agama. Sitting down with his forward legs upright.

“No,” the lizard shook its rock-hard head. “Since you are a thief. You are here to witness and learn from the Masai method of stealing.”

Two Masai men remained in standing position, their weapons in ready position. Lions were observed at a nearer distance. One Masai man dissected two hind drumsticks with haste. Once done the three men walked off.

“Have you noticed that the lions were not afraid of humans, it is just that their confidence could not match that of the humans,” Agama said as he started to retreat from the rocky outcrops. “And before the Masai left, the lions were already getting closer to their kill. Meaning, humans could have been in trouble if they had delayed.”

“I don’t care,” the fox interjected. “I don’t steal from lions and I am not a human.”

“Learn from humans. Do not overstay your invitation, and when you rob allow perfect trimming to trick those you robbed to feel as if they have not been robbed. Leave something behind for them to feast on and forget about you as you depart.” Agama could see that his friend was feeling accused of being greedy. But he finalised the advice before calling it a day, “Bravery without strategy is a waste.”

The two friends headed separate ways. The lizard went to find a mate; the fox retreated into the covers of its burrow waiting for time to pass. And, of course, as time passed the advice from Agama quickly lost its grip in the cores of the Fox’s memory.

Three days passed and these friends could not and were not going to meet in the future either. On the fourth day, The Marshal left its rabbit prey to cook on the same tree top. Foxy stole his share and returned for the remainder.

The Martial quickly came to notice. It followed behind and grabbed Foxy off his feet and took him away. This is the day Foxy became died. His flesh fed the Martial Eagle that once fed him.