#saint cloud state university

[dancinginmybesttux]

got my admission letter today for saint cloud state university! i know it isnt the best school but i love it and go huskies!!

also, red is their color and my fave color.. i do like wearing red... coincidence? i think not!

[33-108]

"Kali in Her highest embodiment is known as Kalasankarshini. Like a divine actress in her own universal play, She assumes the roles of Sristi Kali, Rakta Kali, Sthitinasha Kali, Yama Kali, Samhara Kali, Mrityu Kali, Rudra Kali, Martanda Kali, Paramarka Kali, Kalagnirudra Kali, Mahakala Kali and Maha-bhairava-ghora-canda Kali.

Through these twelve manifestations She creates, maintains and destroys this whole universe from within Her own nature.

In Sristi Kali She is ever present as the first impulse of any perception. In Rakta Kali She is direct perception. In Sthitinasha Kali She is the appeased state where the curiosity of perception has ended. In Yama Kali She winds up the state of thinking and perceiving and again resides in her own nature. These four states of Kali operate in the objective world.

In Samhara Kali the impressions of the objective world appear as faint clouds in a clear blue sky. Here one feels, “I have destroyed duality.” In the state of Mrityu Kali these clouds disappear and one begins to feels oneness. In Rudra Kali She destroys all remaining doubts and suspicions that hold one back on the path to God consciousness. And in Martanda Kali She absorbs the energies of cognition into Herself. These four states of Kali operate in the cognitive world.

In Paramarka Kali She is that state in which the limited ego, which holds the twelve organs of cognition, is dissolved. For the state of Kalagnirudra Kali Swamiji added this verse.

Glory be to Thee, O Ambika, Mother of the Universe! By the power of Your unimpeded will and time in the shape of Bhairava, Thou createst the entire universe from the highest Shiva to the lowest insect.”

Here in the state of Kalagnirudra Kali the function of time still exists. However, when She enters the state of Mahakala Kali, just like a morsel of food, in one gulp She digests time, along with the totality of the universe. It is here that Kali dances in the universal cremation ground. In her twelfth and final state She is known as Maha-bhairava-ghora-canda Kali.

Here the effulgent light of supreme consciousness, responsible for manifesting the subjective, objective and cognitive worlds is held in a state of oneness. These final four states of Kali operate in the field of pure subjectivity.

In Kashmir Shaivism, Kalasankarshini Kali is also nominate as Para-Bhairava. Here She is the thread of ‘supreme awareness’ that runs through the twelve beads of perception, or states of consciousness which span from the grossest to the subtlest level of creation.

In a verse from the Kramakeli, penned down by the great 10th century Shaiva saint Abhinavagupta, Swami Lakshmanjoo explains, “It is Kalasankarshini Kali in the form of Mahakali who dances on the body of Lord Shiva.”

- Teachings of Swami Lakshmanjoo

[blueiscoool]

1,500-Year-Old Christian Ivory Reliquary Box Discovered in Austria

Archaeologists have discovered an exceptional Christian ancient ivory reliquary box in Austria that is thought to be around 1,500 years old.

Innsbruck archaeologists have been excavating in an old hilltop settlement in southern Austria since the summer of 2016. They made the incredible discovery of a Christian reliquary concealed in a previously unknown church two years ago. This reliquary contained an ancient ivory box, richly decorated with Christian symbols.

The incredible artifact was discovered on August 4, 2022, in an early Christian church on the Burgbichl hill in Irschen, southern Austria, by a team headed by archaeologist Gerald Grabherr. A marble shrine measuring around 20 by 30 centimeters was hidden under the altar in the side chapel area.

The artifact in question is heavily fragmented, but researchers said the pieces once formed a type of round container known as a “pyx” that in this case was made of ivory and richly decorated with Christian motifs.

The shrine contained a heavily fragmented ivory “box” (pyx) richly decorated with Christian motifs – a reliquary that is normally taken away as the “holiest” part when a church is abandoned. In this case, however, it was left behind. It is the first such pyx to be found in an archaeological context in Austria.

“We know of around 40 ivory boxes of this kind worldwide and, as far as I know, the last time one of these was found during excavations was around 100 years ago – the few pyxes that exist are either preserved in cathedral treasures or exhibited in museums,” explains the finder, Gerald Grabherr.

While the archaeologists initially assumed that the remains of a saint – i.e. a relic in the classic sense of the word – were also found in the marble box, the layering of the fragments found in the shrine indicates that the ivory pyx was already broken in late antiquity and was buried in the altar.

“The pyx was presumably also seen as sacred and was treated as such because it was in contact with a relic. The archaeological and art-historical significance of the pyx cannot be denied,” emphasizes Gerald Grabherr.

At one end, the pyx shows a figure at the foot of a mountain – the man depicted is turning his gaze away and a hand rising out of the sky above him, placing something between the person’s arms.

“This is the typical depiction of the handing over of the laws to Moses on Mount Sinai, the beginning of the covenant between God and man from the Old Testament,” says Gerald Grabherr. This is followed by depictions of biblical figures. At the end, you can see a man on a chariot with two horses harnessed to it – and here, too, a hand coming out of the clouds pulls this figure up into heaven. “We assume that this is a depiction of the ascension of Christ, the fulfilment of the covenant with God. The depiction of scenes from the Old Testament and their connection with scenes from the New Testament New Testament is typical of late antiquity and thus fits in with our pyx; however, the depiction of the Ascension of Christ with a so-called biga, a two-horse chariot, is very special and previously unknown.”

Since its discovery, the 1,500-year-old ivory pyx has been conserved at the University of Innsbruck.

Ivory stored underground absorbs moisture, making it very soft and easily damaged. Uncontrolled drying can lead to shrinkage and cracks.

Ulrike Töchterle, head of the restoration workshop in Innsbruck, said, “The high humidity in the marble shrine meant there was a high risk of condensation and mold, so we had to ensure a careful and prolonged drying process.”

Over the past two years, the individual pieces of the ivory pyx have been conserved for scientific analysis. The larger parts are deformed, so the pyx cannot be restored to its original state. However, researchers are working on a 3D reconstruction.

By Oguz Buyukyildirim.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

(CNN) — The dappled starlight and swirling clouds of Vincent van Gogh’s “The Starry Night” are thought to reflect the artist’s tumultuous state of mind when he painted the work in 1889.

Now, a new analysis by physicists based in China and France suggests the artist had a deep, intuitive understanding of the mathematical structure of turbulent flow.

As a common natural phenomenon observed in fluids — moving water, ocean currents, blood flow, billowing storm clouds and plumes of smoke — turbulent flow is chaotic, as larger swirls or eddies, form and break down into smaller ones.

It may appear random to the casual observer, but turbulence nonetheless follows a cascading pattern that can be studied and, at least partially, explained using mathematical equations.

“Imagine you are standing on a bridge, and you watch the river flow. You will see swirls on the surface, and these swirls are not random.

They arrange themselves in specific patterns, and these kinds of patterns can be predicted by physical laws,” said Yongxiang Huang, lead author of the study that published Tuesday in the scientific journal Physics of Fluids.

Huang is a researcher at State Key Laboratory of Marine Environmental Science & College of Ocean and Earth Sciences at Xiamen University in southeastern China.

“The Starry Night” is an oil-on-canvas painting that, the study noted, depicts a view just before sunrise from the east-facing window of the artist’s asylum room at Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in southern France.

Van Gogh had admitted himself to an asylum there after mutilating his left ear.

Using a digital image of the painting, Huang and his colleagues examined the scale of its 14 main whirling shapes to understand whether they aligned with physical theories that describe the transfer of energy from large- to small-scale eddies as they collide and interact with one another.

‘The Starry Night’ and turbulence theories

The atmospheric motion of the painted sky cannot be directly measured, so Huang and his colleagues precisely measured the brushstrokes and compared the size of the brushstrokes to the mathematical scales expected from turbulence theories.

To gauge physical movement, they used the relative brightness or luminance of the varying paint colors.

They discovered that the sizes of the 14 whirls or eddies in “The Starry Night,” and their relative distance and intensity, follow a physical law that governs fluid dynamics known as Kolmogorov’s Theory of Turbulence.

In the 1940s, Soviet mathematician Andrey Kolmogorov (1903–1987) described a mathematical relationship between the fluctuations in a flow’s speed and the rate at which its energy dissipates.

Huang and the team also found that the paint, at the smallest scale, mixes around with some background swirls and whirls in a fashion predicted by turbulence theory, following a statistical pattern known as Batchelor’s scaling.

Batchelor’s scaling mathematically represents how small particles, such as drifting algae in the ocean or pieces of dust in the wind, are passively mixed around by turbulent flow.

“This is cool. Indeed this is the type of statistics you would expect from algae blooms being swept around by ocean currents, or dust and particulates in the air,” said James Beattie, a postdoctoral researcher in the Department of Astrophysical Sciences at Princeton University in New Jersey, in an email.

Beattie wasn’t involved in this study but has conducted similar research on the artwork.

“In my paper, I only ever really looked at the large (swirls in the painting), so I didn’t see this second relation,” he said, referring to the Batchelor’s scaling.

‘An amazing coincidence’

Of course, Huang said, van Gogh would not have been aware of such equations but likely he spent a lot of time observing turbulence in nature.

“I think this physical relationship must be embedded in his mind so that’s why when he made this famous ‘Starry Night’ painting, it mimics the real flow,” Huang said.

Beattie agreed: “It’s an amazing coincidence that Van Gogh’s beautiful painting shares many of the same statistics as turbulence,” he said.

“This makes some sense — the models have been constructed to try to capture the statistics of eddies and swirls on multiple scales, each swirl communicating with other swirls through the turbulent cascade.

In some sense, Van Gogh painted something that represents this phenomenon, so why shouldn’t there be some convergence between the theoretical models and the statistics of Van Gogh’s swirls?”

The study team performed the same analysis and detected the same phenomenon in two other images:

— a painting, “Chain Pier, Brighton,” created by British artist John Constable in 1826-7;

— a photograph of Jupiter’s Great Red Spot, taken by NASA’s Voyager 1 spacecraft on 5 March 1979.

“Unlike ‘The Starry Night,’ this painting lacks well-defined swirling patterns, but the clouds are rich of structures with different scales, resembling those frequently seen in the sky,” the study noted of Constable’s artwork.

On display at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, “The Starry Night” is an enormously popular work of art that has been recreated in Lego bricks, drones and dominoes.

Huang said that scientists had long struggled to describe turbulent flow in fluid dynamics in a way that would allow them to predict the phenomenon and that a complete explanation remains a prevailing mystery of physics.

A thorough understanding would help with weather forecasting, flight turbulence and many other processes, he said.

“Even after more than 100 years (of) study, we even don’t know how to define this complex phenomenon,” Huang said.

“It’s extremely important, but it’s extremely difficult.”

"The fact that “The Starry Night” matched statistical models of turbulence even though the artwork doesn’t actually move could suggest that the statistical methods and tools are less precise than scientists may have thought," Beattie said.

"The painting can’t be precisely measured because it’s “actually not turbulence. … (I)t has no kinetic energy,” he said.

However, Beattie said that he was a huge fan of the work of art and that it reflected universality and the beauty of turbulence.

“I deeply love the fact that I can take my understanding of the turbulence in the plasma between galaxies and apply it to the turbulence between stars, between Earth and the Sun or in our own lakes, oceans and atmosphere,” he said.

“What I take away from studies like this is that (van Gogh) captured some of this universality in the beautiful (‘Starry Night’),” Beattie added.

“And I think people know this. They know that something wonderful has been embedded in this painting and we are drawn to it.”

[easypeasylindyvesey]

APRIL 2027- PART 21

The elevator doors open and we make our way out and into the lobby, looking for the doors. We’re met with the chilly morning air. I should be lucky that I decided to wear something somewhat warm. We find our Uber parallel parked right in front of the hotel. The driver lifts the trunk for us to store our suitcases. I shut it and both of us make our way into the backseat.

I take a few seconds to observe our driver. He’s a man, of course, with brunette hair and scruffy facial hair. He’s wearing a baseball cap and is evidently enjoying the music playing on the radio. He looks at the rear-view mirror and smiles. “Morning,” he says. “I’m Ryan. Where to?”

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

“Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport, please,” Jimmy requests, as he buckles his seatbelt into place.

“You got it,” the driver says. “If there’s any pit stops I gotta make, just let me know.” He looks over the seat. “You okay, miss?”

I’m zoning out on the seat in front of me. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” I say, reaching my seatbelt over my body. 

“Alrighty, then,” Ryan replies. “Buckle up and we’ll be on our way.”

Once I click it, he reverses out of his parking spot, and down through the parking lot, before finding the exit. We merge onto the highway, the hotel occurrences becoming more of an unsettling memory.

I stare out of my window, watching the early morning sky show off to the world. The sun is still low in the sky, but I can focus on the light blue intermingling with the high thin clouds. It’s a pretty sight, I’ll admit. I have never been a morning person by any means, but I guess it’s not so bad when you have a nice view.

I side-eye my way toward Jimmy. He’s on his phone, doing I-don’t-know what because I can’t get a good look. He’s probably texting Lavi about how I’ve been quiet for a little bit, and oh, should I be worried? Should I try to talk to her? God, why does he feel the need to feel like he has to fix everything?

I lean my head back on the seat and shut my eyes, listening to the tires drive on the road and the sound of the music coming through the back speakers. It makes me relax. I feel as if I’m being transported into another universe, where it’s calmer and nothing has changed and the people that I love love me back. Well, at least I can confirm two of those things were true. 

I hold onto my purse for dear life, feeling the bulges and bumps. I can feel the outline of my wallet, my phone, hand sanitizer, pen.

Pen.

The pen I wrote my speech with.

The speech I forgot for the funeral.

The same speech I forgot in the nightstand drawer.

The same speech I forgot to put in my suitcase.

This can’t be some sort of sign, can it? Leaving everything here and letting it go once we get back? I don’t know if I can fathom that. It’s not like I would take that well. I guess it was a blessing in disguise.

I take my hands and separate my fingers from each other, stretching them out, as a way to silently express my frustration. I don’t want to talk right now. Hell, I don’t think I should ever talk again. It’s not the end of the world, Abby. We’ve already reached that.

My eyes slowly squint open when I see the sun has started to rise, absolutely blinding me through the cracks of the front passenger seat. Guess I won’t be able to fall back into my previous state now.

We’re still on the highway, it looks like, as I concentrate on the Uber driver. I silently thank him for not being a huge talker. I’ve never been a fan of people who constantly suck the daylights out of you by continuously running their mouth. I get if they’re talking about something they’re passionate about; that’s one thing. On the other hand, if it’s constant bitching and moaning about the same old thing, I’m immediately over it. Of course, no one wants to be brave and tell them to be quiet because we want to avoid hurting their feelings, but a good reality check isn’t always the worst idea. Just like what Jim got.

I can feel him looking at me. I focus on the rising of the sun. It hurts my eyes, but it’s a better distraction than having to look into his. The silence is somewhat comfortable, but it’s giving the idea of the person that opens their mouth will regret it. And it’s sure as hell not going to be me.

“I forgot to ask this, but what brought you folks to Minnesota?” Ryan pipes up from the driver’s seat. “It’s a beautiful state to be in this time of year.”

“We, uh, we attended a funeral,” Jimmy says, his voice doing a good job at conveying the dissatisfaction with having to say that sentence out loud.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ryan replies. “DId you know the person well?”

“We did,” Jimmy responds back. “He was, uh, he was a very important person in our lives.”

Very important? He was everything.

“At least you got to offer your condolences. I’m sure he was happy both of you showed up.”

I mean, I’d be happier if he was riding along in the car with us right now, but okay.

“Yeah, we, uh, we could definitely feel that he was in the room with us,” Jimmy admits. “His family lives here, so that’s why they decided to hold the services in a different state.”

“Where you folks from?”

“I’m uh, I’m from Boston, and she’s from Long Island. We both live in Manhattan right now. We’re taking a flight back to the city.”

“Hey, both of you share those East Coast roots!” Ryan realizes. “I gotta tell you, some East Coasters are so, so nice, and some of them can be incredibly nasty. I’ve driven a lot of people from there, and you could just tell by their demeanor if they were up for a conversation or didn’t want to be bothered. Y’all are quiet, but definitely on the nice list. Now, I understand the quiet given the circumstances. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Jimmy replies.

The car falls quiet again. There’s no perfect way to deter the topic of conversation after mentioning death. I’m not pouring out my heart and soul to some stranger who just happens to share his name.

We seem to be halfway through our drive already. I’m becoming more eager to get on this plane. I just need to go home. Should I even consider the apartment home yet? It still feels a little unfamiliar to me. I’ve adjusted to my room and the living space, but the only vast difference is that there’s someone in the next room. My privacy has been limited in so many ways. So far, he’s not doing a good job at maintaining it. Of course, it’s too early to confront him, both literally and logically, but he better take the hint soon. Or maybe he already has and I just don’t know it.

I close my eyes again and listen to the music buzzing in the background. The chilly morning air starts to infiltrate its way through the car, making me shiver.

“You cold?” Jimmy asks.

I stare straight at the passenger seat in front of me. “No.”

“Do you want my jacket?”

“I literally just said I’m fine,” I hiss.

“Alright, then,” he remarks. “Suit yourself.”

I roll my eyes, biting my lip to prevent myself from saying something I might regret. There’s already a good amount of stuff that I wish I never did with him right there.

After what feels like an infinite amount of time, we finally merge off the highway and take the exit to the airport. I’m so close to unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door while the car’s still moving. Hell, if an Uber can’t get there quick enough, I think walking would serve as a more advantageous alternative. Sure, the car would chase after me, but at least he wasn’t going to follow me around like he always does. Even being trapped in the backseat with him makes me feel confined and unable to get my own space. I thought he, out of all people, would understand that. We didn’t have to take the flight to Minnesota together. We didn’t have to share a hotel room. We didn’t have to share an Uber. I didn’t even need to call him.

But I did. I guess this is what I get in return.

Of course, life can never continuously be kind to us, because the road leading up to the airport entrance is at a complete deadlock. I check my phone. It’s 7:20. The flight’s not until 8:30, but they tend to start boarding around half an hour beforehand. God knows how long when, or if, we’ll move at all.

I can see the faintest image of the runway peaking out from behind the airport. There’s a plane sitting there, perhaps getting ready to take off. It’s in that moment when I realize that I am probably never going to come back here with intent ever again. I guess you could count me visiting his family if I so wish, but what’s the point of doing that when he’s not even there?

I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach for a $20, reaching forward and dropping it in the front cup holder. “Thank you,” I elicit, and open my door, shutting it before I even get to hear a response. The trunk pops open and I reach for my suitcases, motioning over to the sidewalk and beginning my journey inside.

There’s the sound of another car door shutting. “Abb!” a familiar voice yells. “Where are you going?”

“Can’t fucking sit in there forever!” I yell back. “If we miss the flight, then, oh, well. We saw that coming.”

“The traffic will move! You gotta be patient!”

“I don’t have any more patience left in me! Either sit there or get your ass up and walk! I really don’t care!”

I respond to him without even looking back. I’m surprised he could hear me all the way from back there. Heck, I’m surprised I could even hear him. It was more of a shout than a yell. I do know there will be a time in the future where he will yell and it will sure scare the hell out of me.

There’s another sound of the trunk shutting. Of course. I mean, what were the odds, right?

I cherish this time without him by my side to finally breathe. I can walk into that airport and feel as if I’ve been traveling alone, like I’m embarking on a solo expedition around the country. I can walk in there and for a few moments, no one will recognize me or know my name. Maybe I should hide in the bathroom so that he doesn’t come and find me. However, he’ll probably be able to pick up on the fact that I’m purposefully avoiding him. One thing’s for certain: I want him to be done asking me questions. I don’t have the answers.

It looks to be a blessing in disguise when I walk through those double doors because there’s not as many people as I would’ve thought. I guess I got lucky in terms of flight time. Yeah, you can thank me for scheduling it in the early part of the day. I didn’t want to stay here any longer than I needed to. Of course, Jimmy would think that’s ‘rushing.’ I call it ‘logical reasoning.’

I approach the TSA line and scan my ticket while letting my suitcases run through security before they make their way to the baggage claim. I receive a card with my gate number and walk over to baggage claim, watching the suitcases spin round and round on the conveyor belt. I look around and see all of these strangers making their way through. Isn’t it weird to think that everyone you see at an airport is here for a different reason? Some people might be going on vacation, others are studying abroad. Heck, there’s a 1% chance someone had to watch their loved ones be laid to rest. Oh wait, that’s me.

Still waiting, feeling a little bit annoyed, because really, how long does it take for bags to go through baggage claim? When we travel to away games, we take a private flight immediately to the nearest airport and go straight to the hotel. We don’t get our bags checked. Of course, that would take too much time, and we’d be stuck there longer than we need to be. This is one of the times where I don’t get that luxury. But hey, curiosity killed the cat, right?

I hear the faintest footsteps approach from behind me. I already know it’s him, I don’t even need to look. I keep my eyes on the baggage claim. I’m starting to think it destroyed my suitcases because where the hell are they?

“Just wanted to say you took my things out of the trunk,” Jimmy pipes up. It’s quiet, but he gets his point across.

Oh. That’s why.

He steps out into my peripheral vision and grabs two navy blue suitcases with the manufacturing logo ingrained at the top. “Your stuff’s just about to make its way around.”

I give him a quick nod. “Sorry.” Even I feel brave for mentioning that five letter word I don’t even seem to believe.

“No worries,” he replies. “It was an accident.”

Was it, though?

“You wanna get breakfast real quick before we board?” he asks.

I ponder the idea of having to spend another meal with him. I ponder another idea of starving for the next 2 and a half hours in the air, where I’d have to resort to crappy airline food. Then again, airport food isn’t even much better.

“Yeah,” I mutter, finally seeing my belongings make their way to the front and reaching out to grab them. I lift the handles and roll the suitcases down the airport floor, looking like a lost puppy trying to find its way home. I look further down and notice a Starbucks located in its own little area. Bingo.

Surprisingly, there’s not a long wait. I order a spinach, feta, and egg white wrap with a grande cold brew with cream, and Jimmy’s sticking to his Boston roots with a plain bagel and grande black coffee. With nothing else. No cream, no sugar, no espresso shot, no cold foam. Damn, he really is bland with his food and drink choices as he is with his nonstop presence.

We find a table to sit at and quickly munch on our overpriced breakfast. Not much conversation ensues, but that’s not necessarily an uncommon factor. I can tell that if he attempts to start something with me, he’ll be met with an attitude, or straight-up ignored. You’d think he’d know better. 

“Oh, uh, just to let you know, we’re taking a commercial flight back to the city, so we’re gonna be with other passengers,” he pipes up after sipping his coffee. “Also, there’s not enough space for the entire team to take just one flight, so there’s gonna be two. Both are scheduled for 8:30. So if you don’t see everyone right away, then that’s why.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You comin with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I come with you?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

I don’t answer.

“Abb?”

I don’t answer again.

“Do you actually want me to take the other flight? If that’s what you want, that’s fine with me. You gotta tell me, though.”

My brain wants to say yes, but my heart’s telling me no.

“You can stay with me,” I let out. “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Jim, I’m sure.”

“I mean, if you really-”

“Just don’t piss me off and we’ll be fine.”

“Haven’t I done that already?” 

I look up at him. His lips are moist from his coffee. His eyes tell me that he was sincere when he asked that. Crap. He actually meant that.

I guess I don’t need to answer for the third time. Maybe he’s not as oblivious as I make him out to be.

We finish our breakfast and make our way to our gate. We wait in line until we make our way outside and onto the plane. I find my seat and store my purse in the overhead compartment. I expect Jimmy to move in right next to me, but instead, he shuffles into the row behind him, occupying the middle seat. Is that the seat he was assigned on the plane? Did he purchase that one on his own? I thought it was paid as a group flight.

And then I remember that it was.

And then I remember again that there are no assigned seating arrangements on a group flight.

I would totally thank him right now, but my space is taken up by Goody and Braden, who take the seats on my left. We exchange our facial gestures before we sit down. I see Vinny and Jacob surround Jimmy. A little more room to breathe is nice. Of course, it can’t last forever.

I turn my body to face them. “How are you?” I start the conversation.

“Good,” Braden says. “Tired, but good.”

“What did you think of everything?”

Braden opens his mouth again. “I thought it was nice. They really did a great job organizing everything. I mean, yeah, it’s obviously very sad, but it was a good way to honor him.”

“You got that right,” I agree.

“Yeah, you had a great speech, Abb,” Goody chimes in. “It really came from the heart. We all knew that when it came to you, we wouldn’t have thought to find it anywhere else. Truly, it was one that you could tell everyone had to listen to. They’d see it as one of the most important ones.”

I smile. “I mean, I don’t know if it was the most important one, but I’ll take it. Thanks.”

“Of course. How are you holding up?”

I shrug. “Well, I’m still here. That should count for something.”

“Are you okay? You know, after what happened last night?”

Oh my fucking God. 

I play dumb. “What, uh, what happened last night?”

“Oh, sorry, I, uh, I meant to say earlier this morning. Jimmy told us you woke up panicking, like screaming for help and stuff. I wasn’t sure if he told you that he told us. I wanted to wait until I saw you to ask if you were okay in case you didn’t know.”

I didn’t.

I’m gonna fucking kill him.

“I’m fine,” I say with my voice lowered so that he doesn’t hear me. “Just a one time thing. That’s all.”

“I know you see Jim on a regular basis, but if you ever want to talk to us about anything if you don’t feel like opening up to him, you know we’re always here.” Goody gives me a sympathetic look. I can see it in his eyes.

“I know,” I remind him. “Thank you.”

“He’s not busting your balls, is he?”

“More like imploding them, but same equivalent.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“You seriously didn’t pick up on that?”

Goody laughs. “No, I did not. You still got that sense of humor.”

I playfully roll my eyes. “I learned it from the best.”

Oh, what a good thing he didn’t pick up on it. Because it’s a lie.

The sound of an intercom makes its way across the plane. It makes announcements about safety procedures and basic rules before the voice tells everyone we’re about to take off. I stare down at my shoes, dangling my feet on the floor of the plane. My heart rate is a little elevated, but steady. When I first joined the team, I had so much anxiety about away games because we’d have to board a plane and be stuck on there for God knows how many hours. I was only on a plane twice in my life as a kid, so I was incredibly nervous about the long flights. Luckily, it got easier with time. It was also easy when your boyfriend would distract you with cards and conversation. I will say that one of my favorite parts about pregame flights is playing UNO with some of the guys. Not to brag, but most times, I reign victorious, even if we’ve played for 7 rounds. Everyone thinks I’m cheating, and I swear that I’m not, but they seem to think that I have a trick up my sleeve. I do have a trick: it’s called luck. As for postgame flights, everyone is completely exhausted, so the majority of the team sleeps or quietly plays cards. I’d use Ryan’s shoulder as a pillow, which I felt bad about because he wouldn’t have been able to move, but I wonder what I’m gonna do now once preseason rolls around. Maybe I’ll have to buy my own.

As the plane ascends into the air and off the ground, leaving Minnesota, I clench my hands on the armrests. Of course, I’m extremely sad, but I have to remind myself that he can rest now. He is free from any harm, any danger, any uncertainty about the future. According to my “dream,” he wasn’t free from it at all. It’s just my mind distracting me from the actual reality that is even more extreme and consequential than I thought it would’ve ever been. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’ll see you later. I love you.

[ninhaoma-ya]

Chapter 1083 — By Any Means Necessary

Ooo, it’s nice to be wrong. Sabo is spilling the beans already, no more wait for us!

…sure, the original wait since Cobra’s death was announced has been, what, five years (checked: not even a year? We truly are in the endgame now) but still. Happy with the recent information overflow!

First things first. I know that Oda plays fast and lose with the height of people, and it's… confusing to see it play out in reality, as here, where Sabo, Dragon and Iva-chan are seated around the same table, on similar-looking chairs.

Just a refresher on heights (according to the OP wiki):

Sabo – 187 cm (6'1½")

Dragon – 256 cm (8'5")

Iva – 449 cm (14'8")

Iva is almost 2,5 times as tall as Sabo. And you say they sit at the same table? I doubt.

I'm sure most things are custom in the OP universe, but here either Sabo must feel like a child (in the topmost picture his elbows aren't really aligned to the table as you would expect at a good meeting table) or –the more likely explanation since you can see the top of Dragon's knees almost jut over the top of the table– Dragon and Iva are feeling like they are attending a childrens' tea party.

… we have enough high-stakes opponents. We really don't need any more.

Were they mentioned at the courtyard scene, when Saint Carlos tried to kidnap Shirahoshi? I only remember normal guards and bodyguards there, but who knows.

…you just said the Nefertaris were one of the good ones? Do you just want to tear down everything, even though the Nefertaris hada. reason for not joining the other Celestial Dragons 800 years ago? Or do you just not know about that?

(And it doesn't fuel the flames of rebellion if you kill indiscriminately, you know? Especially a beloved monarch like Cobra? His people will probably just close the ranks behind Vivi, and other potential rebellions will just question your true goals – or if you try to replace one bad system with an even worse one.)

Obvious Prediction: The Five Elders (or their lackey) killed Cobra, Sabo was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

More information about Karasu! My gothic fave!

Interesting way he uses his fruit.

And not to be like that, but…

…why are CP9 back?

And why did they get a promotion after the Water 7 fiasco?

(I love love love Fujitora)

(…I really want to write something about the Celestial Dragons and their literal head-in-the-clouds…)

I'm sure we'll get to see how Shirahoshi got saved (again) from Saint Carlos, but it'll also be interesting to see how Sabo managed to get him away from atop quite a high cliff in the state he is in. The other Revolutionary Captains were on Kamabakka before him after all, so he didn't get any help from there.

(The last panels of this particular page were also interesting: was he talking to Shirahoshi, or was she just a visual reminder? Did he meet Bonney? Why was she on Egghead – did she try to follow Sabo and Kuma to Kamabakka?)

A ~subtle~ marker of Cobra's worsening health. "It's fine we killed him off for a Noble Purpose, he's dying, he'd die anyway before long."

Oh no, he didn't get his wish of seeing Vivi married before he died :(

Interesting chapter! I give it The Second Whodunnit Of The Arc and A Tea Party From Hell.

[brother-hermes]

YESHUA, TRANSFIGURATION, MERKHABAH

“And after six days Yeshua took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became radiant, intensely white, as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, and they were talking with Jesus. And Peter said to Yeshua, ‘Rabbi,it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.’ For he did not know what to say, for they were terrified.”

-Mark 9:2-6

Six Days- if we work our way down from the three supernals- Keter, Chockmah, Binah- towards the world we live in- Malkhut- we quickly realize that each of the remaining 7 sefirot relate to the seven days of creation. It is absolutely vital we pay careful attention to numbers in scripture because they’re always alluding to a deeper understanding of the Divine. In the case of the transfiguration of Yeshua six denotes Yesod, or the foundation through which all the Divine Light of G-D pours into creation.

High Mountain- think of Jacobs latter and ascent to the throne room of El Shaddai- or Most High, ‘The Lord of the Mountains’ to their neighboring Samaritans. Where Jacobs vision occurred became Beth-El, or the House of God right.

Radiant- this is what we call Shekhinah Glory. The tzaddik- saint in simplest terms- is rooted deeply in the path of hakam- seeking wisdom under the guidance of Chockmah- one of those supernals I mentioned earlier. Anyways, this is the Divine Mother, that female aspect of G-D’s dwelling and immanence in the created world. Yeshua has awakened to the Divine Feminine coursing through the fabric of the Universe and was raised up- brought forward into Yesod- a higher state of being. The Bar-Enash, or “Son of Man,” represents the new humanity Yeshua taught must be born within each soul. We must all awaken to Her presence.

Moshe and Elijah are prophets of the Most High and like all prophets are deeply related to Netzach and Hod. (the Pereshat Pekudei in the Zohar goes into detail for those interested in learning more about the Hekhalot and the essence of Heaven) Prophecy-divine vision emanates through Netzach, Hod and Yesod in Yeshuas transfiguration as these three represent the zeir anpin- the small face in Aramaic. (it’s the mirroring of the three supernals into the physical world of malkhut and the subject of quite a bit of debate amongst kabbalists. It was still firmly nestled in the realm of oral tradition in Yeshuas time so a lot of our way of seeing it just didn’t exist yet)

Three Tents- remember tents is the word for the tabernacle found in the Torah. It represents Shekhinah glory- G-Ds dwelling among us. This is exactly what will happen to any of us who follow Yeshuas halakhah- the way- and internalize love and justice in our everyday thoughts and manner of living. Whereas Netzach and Hod distribute that divine flux from on high it’s Yesod that determines what we receive. (Kabbalah meaning “to receive”) Yeshua offered us explicit instructions to follow that would allow us to elevate ourselves to a higher calling as He Himself did.

They were terrified- Yeshua brought them on High because Peter, James and John had shown promise. They had internalized the halakhah and were living in the way. (the first church was actually called the way) As such, they were ready to be initiated into the Higher Mysteries and receive Chockmah directly from the source. Think of Solomon saying “The fear of Adonai is the beginning of Chockmah.” The word for fear in Hebrew is yara- to fear, be in awe, tremble with joy. Awakening the baet- transformative awe of God- would shake a disciple to their core as they move beyond the stage of halakhah.

This is what merkhabah is at its core. It’s moving beyond mere words and codes of conduct. To be wrapped in a cloud doesn’t mean a meteorological fog or something trite like that. Anan literally means a covering, or hiding place. It’s the mysterious realm of Yesod- in this case the environment of Divine vision. Ancient accounts from various cultures are full of examples of how people tremble and their hair stands up on the back of their necks when this sort of mystical experience occurs. Hence, the disciples were terrified.

Don’t be shy. I know I shrouded a mystery in a mystery on this one. Symbolism is a kink for me though. Just remember whose yoke is easy and whose halakhah is light. As a Rabbi Yeshua provided a lifestyle and manner of thinking rather than ritual and dogma. Anyone can have a merkhabah experience by following the way of the prophets. All it takes is willingness, not wuwu new age nuance.

That is all. 🫳🎤

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Jesus Is Coming Again!

by J.C. Ryle

"He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus." - Revelation 22:20

What will you see when that great event takes place? You will see the eternal Son of God return in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. He will come to raise the dead saints and to change the living ones, to punish the wicked and to reward the godly, to summon every one before His bar, and to give to every one according to His works.

He will come to bind Satan, and deprive him of his usurped dominion, to deliver the earth from the curse, and to purify it as the eternal dwelling-place of a holy nation; to cast out sin, and all its accursed consequences- disease, death, sorrow, wars, poverty, injustice, and oppression. You see the world defiled now by the presence of evil. You will see it at length restored to its former state, and the days of paradise before the fall brought back again.

What will you get by looking forward to Jesus coming again? You will get that which is the best remedy against disquiet and depression, hope shed abroad in your heart about things to come.

When the minds of others are cast down with perplexity, you will feel able to lift up your head and rejoice; when all around seems dark and gloomy, you will see light, and be able to wait patiently for better days.Few things are so remarkable in the present time as the universal anxiety and suspense about the future.

On all sides, and among all classes, you hear of lack of confidence and gloomy forebodings of coming evil; Church and State alike seem shaken to their foundations: no one seems to know what to expect next. On one thing alone men seem agreed: they look forward with more fear than hope to the future. In a day like this there is no comfort like that of looking forward to Christ coming again. The Christian who reads his Bible, and believes what it contains, can behold the shaking of all things round him unmoved.

[k00281189]

Primary Research Sovereign Sisters 2014.

This is an image i captured from the Imma museum video animation. It depicts movement with the angles flying in circular motion around a ball. It looks very trippy and what I would image you would see if taking a hallucination drug. There is a sort of danger about this piece which i find very intriguing

I am going to use this image as primary resource for my project in relation to hallucination drugs and the trippy visuals that come of them.

Description: HD video, 16:9, computer animation transferred to black and white, no sound. Wood, glass, reinforced plastic, purified water.

Duration 3:47 mins, looped

Courtesy of the Otolith Group and LUX, London

Commissioned by the Bergen Kunsthall, Bergen and Casco Art Institution: Working for the commons, Utrecht

Background Information: Sovereign Sisters is the final work in The Otolith Group's cycle on the postal ontology of the state. Sovereign Sisters brings viewers dace to face with the imperial ideal of global communication celebrated in Autour du Monde, the monument commissioned by the universal Postal Union in Bern, Switzerland, in 1907. Rene de Saint-Marceaux's bronze and granite monument, which still stands in kleine Schanze Park in Bern, Personifies each continent as a racialized goddess, circling the globe in an eternal embrace. Sovereign Sisters uses 3D Lidar technology to transform the patriarchal presence of the monument into a point cloud that evokes platform capitalism's aspiration to plan the planet.

[kismetharborapps]

ooc information

name: nadine

character information

name: Amayah Fontenelle

faceclaim: Nathalie Emmanuel

gender & pronouns: she/her

age: 35

birthday: march 2nd 1989

place of birth: Castries, Saint Lucia

occupation: unemployed

neighborhood: cresthill meadows

time since arriving in kismet harbor: returned in 2023

filling a wanted connection?: none

biography:

tw: death, pregnancy, child loss, depression

Amayah's first hours in the world had been spent in the arms of a stranger. A nurse holding on to the prematurely born baby girl, seeing as her mother could no longer give her warm skin to skin contact, having died during childbirth. As sickly as she was, she received all the love on a daily basis from all the nurses working in the hospital on the small Caribbean island. It didn't take long for Amayah to be assigned through adoption to a loving couple living in Kismet Harbor, Oregon who came to pick her up as soon as she was declared healthy at four months old, bringing her home to the United States.

Her family was most certainly not comparable to that of most people. She wasn't related to anyone by blood, but by bond and love. All of her siblings originated from different corners of the world, as well as her parents and their home reflected just that. They were taught multiple languages, hobbies, sports, religions and more, being taught that commitment was both important and rewarding on its own. By the age of twelve, Amayah was fluent in four languages, was able to play symphonies on the piano by fourteen and was a competitive fencer by the age of eight til sixteen. The fact that Amayah was able to achieve such feats were impressive, as she was often described as having her head in the clouds, dreaming of fantasies and thinking of geography while she was supposed to be focusing on biology. Whenever she put her mind to something and actually focused, got well into the zone, it was hard to pull her out of it. A trait that eventually helped her through her future academic career.

Since a young age, and no doubt thanks to her busy home life, Amayah was a social butterfly, helping out whenever she could and making conversation with strangers on the bus. She was often the first to befriend the new kid in the class and sit next to the lonely student, even if it was just to give them company without talking. Despite this, Amayah could appreciate some quiet time, rarely knowing a calm moment in her busy home of eight. Though as much as she focused on friendship, Amayah was never really busy with boys, befriending them rather than dating them. All that changed when she met Wesley Levitt. The boy with the charming smile that made her jumble all of her words and lose her thoughts. It didn't surprise her parents that as soon as she announced she had a boyfriend and brought him home with her for dinner, that they were in for the long run.

She left the comfort of Kismet Harbor to travel with Wesley to university. Pursue her passion for the arts, no doubt inspired by her father's profession as an archeologist. She expanded her knowledge from the Minoan era, to the bronze era. From the first intermediate period to the ptolemaic period, Amayah was terribly fascinated by it all, and in particularly focused on the history of her hometown, the local museum having been a place she wanted her father to bring her to as much as they could. Rounding off her studies, life seemed to be on a fast track for Amayah, finding that she was pregnant in her early twenties rather than in her early thirties, as she had always imagined her life with Wesley to look like. Overcoming any fears and doubts, Wesley remained her rock, even going as far as to propose to her so that they would all, eventually, would carry the Levitt name. Her pregnancy had been one the doctors baptised as the perfect pregnancy. Right on schedule, none of the side effects and her skin glowed, her hair was full of volume and if she had to complain about something, it was about discomfort on her feet and back from the weight hanging from her waist.

Except Amayah knew no happy ending where she would have her bundle of joy in her arms after a textbook birth. She drove home after a party with Wesley, similar as to any other car ride. Being the designated driver, the two were talking as they drove home, laughing about a comment of one of their friends making a fool of themselves that Amayah hadn't seen that another driver wasn't giving them leeway where they should've gotten it, and ended up being driven off the Kismet Harbor bridge. The last thing she remembered was how the dark water came closer in a rapid pace before a flash of pain and everything went dark. She woke up nearly twenty hours later, her body bruised and aching, barely responding to her willing to move her arms. She had noticed her belly wasn't as large as it was before she lost consciousness, but was confirmed it wasn't a trick of the mind when confirmed to her that they had lost the baby. The fact her memory played games on her, from both the trauma and the fact she had been deprived of air for so long, they had to break the news of her little girl being gone at least a dozen times before she stopped forgetting, each time as heartbreaking as the last. She had held her treasure in her arms before they took her away, but Amayah can only recall her tiny perfect face from the pictures taken by her family.

Weeks went by and turned into months where she wouldn't leave her bed, couldn't stand the daylight and the smell of fresh air made her want to spit, losing herself to the tragedy of her life. She needed time, needed a chance to get over the trauma her mind and body went through. At the time she didn't understand why Wesley stayed by her side the one day and left her the other, urging her to leave and join her family to her father's digsite near Cairo, Egypt. She went from having everything to nearly nothing, and with tears in her eyes, she watched how the state of Vermont grew smaller and smaller until she could no longer recognise it as she flew to her new home across the world.

Cairo took some getting used to. She was nowhere near ready to live a normal life and forget what had happened. But day by day, Week by week, the change of scenery and the different culture helped Amayah overcome the pain her hometown held for her. She slowly gained more interest in her father's finds, in his enthusiasm until she adapted and joined him. A year later, she was able to start her new studies at the university in Cairo for archeology, focusing on preserving and studying relics and artefacts rather than digging them up, even though she enjoyed that aspect just as much. Having two phds to her name, she worked with the best that Cairo (and the world) had to offer. Her father's job, that was supposed to last two years, turned into four, which turned into eight, which turned into a permanent position as more and more digsites were unearthed.

Amayah thrived, becoming her old self again, even if she would never forget the darkest days of her life and for a long while accepted that she was able to live a life in Cairo of all places, with its heat and long days. Sure she explored the world, traveling to countries in Europe, Africa and Asia, but wondering to herself when she would make the decision to go back to the place that held so many memories for her. The chance came in the form of an invitation to a wedding, one that made her decide that she was happily going to close her current chapter and continue the one she was never able to close on her own terms. In the end it was the right decision to be made. She was welcomed back by all of her loved ones, rekindling her relationship with Wesley to the point they got back to being engaged again, moving in a new home together.

other:/

pets: /

town activities: joyous journeys, knit happens

draw of luck: yes

character blog url: @amayahxfontenelle

[lafayettenossie]

The girl, just over 13 years old, with long dark hair, tanned skin and blue, almost violet eyes, woke up scared. She didn't know if she was dreaming or if it was real... If it was, she was in big trouble!

She knew that part of the city, the Saints stadium was in front of her, with its dome shape, The Superdome. But everything was wrong. The dark sky without stars but at the same time without clouds. The rotten smell. The brownish stains on the ground, the stench of iron in the air. And those vaporous shapes floating several meters above her head...

She was in the place where she shouldn't go! They warned her, she promised she wouldn't, that she would stay away from that reality... and yet she was there!

Without thinking, she entered through the half-open door, she could barely see. She remembered the old spell from that book she saw in the attic. They wouldn't let her go up there alone, she was too unpredictable and inexperienced with her powers. But she looked too much like her mother... and she did. Now, using the right words, a blue glow erupted from her right hand, intense enough to light her up and not trip over the rubble and what were clearly human remains in a very advanced state of decomposition. With disgust, she moved trying not to step on anything. She went up the stairs towards what was undoubtedly one of the emergency exits of the stadium at the foot of the track.

Something forced her to go in, she didn't know why. Even so, she opened the door by pushing the safety bar.

She was in the stadium, the grass was poorly maintained, dry and brittle as she walked. The smell was getting worse. There was a huge pile a few meters ahead. Her childish curiosity got the better of her teenage reasoning. She moved forward, trying to keep her pink stuffed slippers with a bear's head from making too much noise. She was scared.

She was finally close enough to see what that huge pile was. Insects buzzed around the mountain of corpses, because that was what it was. Disgusted, she tried to back away but saw the bloody face of one of them and understood everything...

It was her, or at least someone who was her spitting image... destroyed and surrounded by dozens of other bodies... But they were all her! With different ages, between 12 and 30 years old. All dead and terribly mutilated.

The girl understood where she was! The place where she should never go and that all her other versions inevitably visited... the reality where all of the Nimués ended up dying at the hands of...

She felt a hand grab her and turn her around. She screamed in fear, fearing that her end was near. A woman in her twenties, with long hair, tanned skin and blue, almost violet eyes. grabbed her, now covering her mouth so she wouldn't scream anymore!

It was like seeing herself in an enlarged mirror, it was herself but in 7 or 8 years!

-"Are you crazy?!!! Weren't you told never to enter this dimension? We all die here! I noticed your presence and came looking for you..."

-"I... I was sleeping in my bedroom and... I dreamed that... that nice woman... promised me that..." her eyes opened wide. That's how they did it, that's how they were drawn there!

They both heard the sound of jaws snapping in the air. They sniffed their prey and ran towards them!

-"Let's go!!!" the 20-year-old Nimué shouted to the 12-year-old. "Run!" and they both headed towards the exit. The creatures that were chasing them were very fast, they would reach them in seconds. They were able to enter and close the emergency door behind them. But the attacks of those beings were so powerful that they would undoubtedly knock it down in seconds.

-"You have to jump! But not to another time or another place. Jumping between universes... you've done it before!" he said, looking at her seriously.

-"No... I don't control it... I've only done it once... well, now twice! I don't know how..." Nimue was scared. The door was bending under her blows, the bar was about to jump!

-"Do it! I'll distract them! Go back when you're safe to your time and reality. And never come back here or you'll end up like all those..." The sound of metal tearing was the last thing the young Nimué heard: she closed her eyes and noticed how her whole being faded and entered another universe...

The adult Nimué prepared herself, the door fell and she saw how those shapeless horrors entered, jumping towards her. Blue eyes, from the darkness behind those beings that destroyed her, looked at her with weariness. Another one...

Nimue opened her eyes, it was night, she was in a humid forest and it was cold... Where was she? Or when? In which universe? "Oh, shit...!"

To be continued...

[spiritualsoul1969]

The Divine Colours: Transformation Through Devotion

Saint Muktabai’s doha, “Prabhu ke rang mein rang lo, mit jaaye sab paap. Vitthala ka naam le, ho jaaye sab aap,” invites us into the transformative embrace of divine love and surrender. Let’s break this doha down to explore its spiritual depth and practical significance in our lives.

The doha begins with the phrase “Prabhu ke rang mein rang lo,” which can be understood as an invitation to immerse ourselves in the divine hues of the Lord. Spiritually speaking, these divine colors are not just a metaphor for joy or vibrancy—they symbolize the profound transformation that occurs when we allow the divine presence to colour our hearts and lives. When we surrender to the divine will, we shed the layers of our ego, pride, anger, and other negative tendencies, becoming immersed in the qualities of love, compassion, patience, and grace.

The idea of being “coloured” in the divine hues can be interpreted as aligning our life with divine energy. This is a process of letting go of individual desires and ego-driven motivations, allowing ourselves to be shaped and moulded by the qualities of the divine. It represents the spiritual journey of dissolving the personal self into the universal self.

Dissolving Sins: The Cleansing Power of Devotion

The second part of this line, “Mit jaaye sab paap,” speaks of the dissolution of sins through the process of immersion in the divine. Here, sins are not merely moral transgressions but also refer to the inner blocks, fears, and ignorance that prevent us from realizing our true nature. These obstacles cloud our minds, leading us into suffering, restlessness, and separation from the divine.

In the context of spirituality, the dissolution of sins is akin to the removal of karmic burdens and the dissolution of negative tendencies. When we immerse ourselves in divine love, these burdens naturally fall away. The doha is a reminder that the path to liberation is not through intellectual pursuit or external acts, but through the purification of the heart and mind by divine grace.

The Name of Vitthala: The Power of Devotion

The second line, “Vitthala ka naam le, ho jaaye sab aap,” emphasizes the power of chanting or meditating on the name of Vitthala (a form of Lord Vishnu). Vitthala represents the supreme consciousness, the divine essence that pervades all creation. By taking the name of Vitthala, we are not merely calling out to a deity—we are invoking the divine presence within ourselves.

The name of Vitthala serves as a bridge to connect the individual soul with the universal soul. In many spiritual traditions, the practice of chanting or repeating the name of God is considered one of the most direct ways to experience divine presence. When we engage in this practice with love and devotion, we gradually dissolve our sense of separateness and merge into the oneness of all.

The phrase “ho jaaye sab aap” signifies the completion of the self, or the realization of the true self. This is the ultimate goal of spiritual practice: to become complete, whole, and one with the divine. In this state of self-realization, the ego no longer dictates our actions; instead, we live in alignment with the divine will, experiencing peace, joy, and oneness with all creation.

A Divergent Perspective: Oneness Through Devotion

Saint Muktabai's doha offers a unique and divergent perspective on spirituality by highlighting the simplicity and purity of devotion. In a world often focused on complex rituals and intellectual pursuits, this doha brings us back to the heart of spirituality—surrender and love. The divine is not something to be attained or conquered but to be embraced. By colouring ourselves in the divine, we allow transformation to happen naturally, without struggle or force.

This perspective emphasizes that spirituality is not a process of accumulation (of knowledge, rituals, or achievements) but a process of shedding—letting go of the ego, desires, and attachments. It is through this letting go that we discover our true, divine self.

Practical Toolkit for Daily Life

To incorporate the teachings of this doha into your daily life, consider these practical steps:

Daily Chanting or Meditation on the Divine Name: Set aside time each day to chant the name of Vitthala or any divine form you resonate with. This practice can be done in the morning or evening, creating a peaceful connection with the divine energy within you.

Immerse Yourself in Devotional Practices: Engage in activities that bring you closer to the divine. This could be singing devotional songs, reading spiritual texts, or simply spending time in nature with a sense of reverence for the divine presence in all things.

Let Go of Ego-Driven Desires: Reflect on areas of your life where you are driven by ego or attachment. Practice surrendering these desires to the divine, trusting that you are guided and supported by a higher power.

Act with Compassion and Love: Allow the divine love you cultivate within to flow into your interactions with others. Act with kindness, patience, and compassion in all your relationships, knowing that this love is a reflection of the divine.

Visualize the Divine Colors: During meditation or quiet moments, visualize yourself being immersed in divine colors—vibrant hues of love, peace, and joy. This visualization can help you align your energy with the qualities of the divine.

Looking Ahead

Saint Muktabai’s doha offers a simple yet profound message: immerse yourself in the divine, and all will be well. By colouring ourselves in the divine hues of love and devotion, we dissolve our inner obstacles and realize our true, complete self. Through daily devotion and surrender, we embark on the path of liberation and spiritual fulfillment.

[pmpmyread]

Light Lost

A/N: Ao3 x-post, Destinytober 2023 prompt fic. Characters: Osiris, Saint-14, Ikora Rey, Sagira, Xivu Arath Summary: As he deals with the aftermath of losing his Light, a hardened but tired Osiris softens and finds his path to healing.

Tags: Emotional hurt/comfort, self-reflection, loss, healing WC: 3k

Though several days separate him from Savathûn’s captivity, Osiris still feels like a prisoner.

Ever the pragmatic Warlock, he relegates his disquiet as being par for the course—after all, there isn’t exactly a precedent for a Lightless Guardian being possessed by a Hive God.

He is on the physical mend, though it is through a partial, slow recovery, a sharp departure from what he was previously accustomed to. This too, he ascribes to being a limitation of his recent loss of his Light. As days go by, a more specific culprit appears, in the form of insomnia.

Osiris is not unfamiliar with long bouts of sleepless nights in days gone by, of countless nocturnal hours typically spent ruminating on an experiment or project of some sort. As for his current indisposition to sleep, it only takes him a few instances of what he can only generously describe as sparse moments of intermittent shuteye to detect the ominous undertone it carried — a latent dread, not of the muddled universe that had become his oneiric state, but of what may await him once he eventually slips back into wakefulness.

The apprehension of having unconsciousness ripped out from under him, only to come to the horrific realization that it is happening again, that he has lost agency over himself, reduced to a mere vessel for the Hive God of Cunning to enact the next item off her convoluted, self-serving agenda looms over him.

His heart sinks at the mere prospect of having to relive the desperate, last-ditch efforts to push himself to the surface, to drown out the voice he no longer recognized to be his, to warn his interlocutors that he is compromised, that this isn’t him, that they should know better, only to lose the mental battle and succumb back to the unconscious nothingness.

She is long gone now, but the residual impacts of her hold still linger.

He figures that one way to avoid awakening is to avoid sleeping.

For many nights, that is exactly what he does.

Osiris deflects his increasingly irascible behavior onto this very lack of sleep, after Saint-14 confronts him, a few weeks later.

This is a clouded lie by omission, one he prefers not to use on the Exo Titan. It is not so much an act of malice as it is one of misguided self-protection that he decides that his candor is not worth the contentious conversation that would certainly follow, a path he had absolutely no desire nor energy to go down. He fails to envision anything resembling a constructive outcome, were he to tell Saint, whose only crime was to be supportive in the best way he knows, that those very efforts were grating on Osiris a little more with each passing day.

And so, he instead vows to incorporate some more resting time into what he finds to be an already threadbare schedule. He thinks he’s in the clear, at least for now, when Saint reluctantly, but ultimately backs off.

Ikora Rey, on the other hand, proves to be far less lenient.

Osiris knows that she too worries for his wellbeing and that her concern is compounded by the fact that she also holds the critical responsibility to clear him for field duties. He quickly understands that he will have to employ different methods if he is ever to be cleared. He figures that he’ll play nice when he is summoned to Ikora’s office for his first evaluation and that so long as he can steer the conversations away from himself and towards the insights he’s extracted during his ordeal, he will be better positioned to regain Ikora’s trust.

His strategy works, until it doesn’t.

It does not take more than a couple of sessions before Ikora discerns the evasiveness he employs regarding incidental to his psychological state. One day, she opens their discussion by pressing him on this. It goes about as well as expected.

“Whatever you are pressing down—and I think I know you well enough to know there is more than I have seen—it is normal to feel, and not a personal failing. Nor does it make you less of yourself,” Ikora states, plainly.

And there it is. The kid-glove treatment. The dancing around the subject. “Hah. Am I to understand that this... uselessness is something you expect?” Osiris retorts.

“You are still Osiris.”

Hah. And what the hell does that even mean nowadays?

“Not to be allowed to fade into obscurity as a dour old man, hm?” He is unable to conceal his mounting tone of annoyance at this point.

“Is that what you want? I certainly don't think it applies.” Ikora remarks, pointedly.

An uncomfortable silence sits between them before he changes the topic. Ikora lets it go, for now.

They briefly discuss Neptune. The Warlock Vanguard tells him that as much as she wants to authorize an investigation on his leads, she still needs to justify the resources, and that they needed much more than a hunch and clouded memories to move forward.

Osiris interprets this as yet another sentiment divulged in words unsaid, one that translates that he is, at least for now, an unreliable narrator at best.

Though having to hold off on any meaningful operations frustrates him to no end, he resigns himself to submitting to his former student’s cautious decision. Armed with the nuggets of information he cannot immediately act on, he departs her office. He wonders what it will take to get her full trust again.

Osiris does not deal well with inertia, he never has.

Uselessness does not begin to cover what he feels at this moment.

The day the Witness enters the Sol system distinguishes itself from the previous monotonous weeks, culminating in an anarchic and chaotic moment.

He is at the H.E.L.M., standing by key members of the Vanguard leadership, watching the Witness launch a direct assault on the Traveler. As he breaks from the trance everyone seems to be in, he looks around to find everyone transfixed on a crumbling poor excuse of a defense.

In a split-second, the uselessness that previously plagued Osiris’ mood crescendos to its apex.

It’s now or never.

A spark of urgency jolts through the warlock and he jumps to enact the plan he should have actioned on weeks ago.

As rattled as he is, Osiris is focused on the prize. Savathûn had left some secrets behind, and the Veil on Neomuna is going to be the key to defeating the Witness, he is the key to finding it, and this quest is the key to keeping the pull of uselessness at bay.

He boards his ship and sets off for Neptune.

The adrenaline fuels Osiris so much so that he barely notices the Guardian Ikora sends after him, barely able to keep up with him. It is only once his feet touch down to Neomuna’s surface that he collects his thoughts. Here he is, another adventure kicked off on impulse, another lead to follow, Vanguard instructions be damned.

He feels like his old self again.

The moment is short-lived, as he and the Guardian converse with the pair of Cloudstriders who meet both he and the Guardian where they land. He urges the group to head straight to the Veil, while the older Cloudstrider he later comes to know as Rohan insists they regroup at the watchtower and align on the next steps.

“You don’t understand, we’ve got to get to the Veil!” Osiris exclaims, desperate to convey the urgency of the matter.

"I understand what's at stake, Lightbearer... Far better than you. Not all of us have lives to spare," Rohan replies, in an imputative tone.

It is Rohan’s remark — this inaccurate, yet perfectly reasonable assumption that Osiris is a regular Guardian, possessing the Light, along with the concomitant paracausal ability to be revived by his Ghost, should he run into trouble — it is this very offhand comment that torpedoes him back to his reality.

And the reality is that Osiris is now a Lightless ex-Guardian, a walking contradiction who himself is composed of many contradicting sentiments.

He is grateful for being alive but guilty for the cost his dear Ghost Sagira paid to ensure this outcome.

He is angry at the Vanguard for not catching on to Savathûn’s schemes sooner, while being angry at himself for making that unreasonable imputation; after all, he was the one who served as the very vessel that got her access to the Vanguard’s walls in the first place. He is frustrated at Ikora for being cautious and reluctant in granting him full clearance all the while appreciating that she is employing an overabundance of caution and that she is primarily doing it to protect him.

With Savathûn marking Osiris in the way that she did, it is no secret that he is the ultimate contradiction in the eyes of many, both an asset and a liability.

It is only at this point that reality hits him, a silent yet salient realization that with the loss of his Light came a newfound mortality. Gone are the days when he could recklessly jump into the face of danger with minimal risk. Death has become the ultimate limitation.

From that moment on, Osiris takes a more measured approach to everything as he gradually comes to terms with his predicament.

Through the harnessing of the newly discovered power of Strand, he is forced, in more ways than one, into a habit of allowing things to flow as they are.

After Rohan’s death, he is nudged to ponder on the concept of sacrifice and purpose, something he has not taken the time to sincerely do since the loss of Sagira.

In Nimbus, he finds a mentee who pushes him to set the right example and who reminds him of his love for mentoring.

He is far from perfect and still gets frustrated, restless, and impatient in the face of some of their hurdles.

And yet, even he can privately admit that the net result is undeniable, that in his investigation on Neptune, Osiris finds a semblance of purpose.

As days turn into weeks and weeks into months, Osiris almost feels like his old self.

He continues his research into the origins of the Veil with the help of Nimbus. Ikora appreciates what she jokingly defines as his reversion to “normal levels of Osiris-branded recklessness” and allows him to take more responsibility. In turn, Osiris routinely reports his findings to Ikora on a weekly basis. This keeps him busy, and he keeps her informed. It is a win-win outcome that forms the basis of their rebuilt trust, allowing room for conversations without fences, as they used to have in the good old days.

Their friendship is made all the better for it.

As he chronicles the findings of Maya Sundaresh, he can’t help but draw some parallels between her and his old self. With distance, it is easy to qualify her experimentation as hubris, but Osiris knows better. He knows the sentiment all too well, the one he had felt long ago as he blindly embarked on his mission into the Infinite Forest. He is familiar with the growing urge to obtain answers to questions one hasn’t yet thought to ask, a curiosity so potent and overwhelming that slowly nudges one away from any form of protocol, one that slowly but surely guides one to hop over the proverbial fence delineating the rational from the irrational. He figures this is an unfortunate pitfall anyone can fall victim to, when desperate enough.

The events of the last few months have not allowed for a single moment of peace in Osiris’ chaotic life. The moment that finds him one early morning, sitting alone in the Hall of Heroes, marks the first time since his return that he finds an opportunity to sit alone with his thoughts, without distraction. His slow train of thought takes him through a deep reflection.

Could he truly blame the Vanguard for erring on the side of caution, particularly after being dealt an incisive series of setbacks?

Is he not fortunate to have returned safely from the grasp of the Witch Queen, surrounded by his well-meaning friends?

Should he not trust to earn trust in return?

He contemplates how he has, through a self-imposed form of isolation that would come to typify his coping mechanisms, robbed those around him, as well as himself, of any appreciation for the win that constitutes his return, or any other positive event since, for that matter. For the first time in seemingly forever, a sincere moment of gratitude within the old warlock.

That afternoon, he dismisses Nimbus early and heads for his ship. He figures it is finally time to return to the Last City — he has a lot of catching up to do.

Saint-14 is the one who breaks him the news, one quiet afternoon, in his old corner in the Tower’s Bazaar.

The Titan summarizes the outcomes of an earlier discussion that involved Sloane, Zavala, Saladin, and himself, filling Osiris in with some context. He speaks of the newly formed portal on the Traveler, and of the Final Shape, of Sloane and Ahsa, of Xivu Arath, and of Savathûn.

Of the cruel twist of fate that forced them down a road that ended with the potential revival of the Witch Queen herself.

As he nears the end of his account, Saint’s signature rambunctious mannerisms are accentuated by his escalating outrage. Osiris contrasts his energy, quietly processing all this, interjecting only to ask a few clarifying questions. After giving a piece of his mind on the matter, Saint-14 mumbles something about needing to cool off and storms out, ultimately leaving the warlock alone with a multitude of questions.

Are they falling into a trap? Is he missing something?

Has this been her plan all along? Why risk thwarting it by embodying Osiris and leaving some of her tracks behind?

Would she return in her own form?

Would he have to suffer again?

Until this moment, the few small steps Osiris was able to take towards making peace with what had happened to him hinged on the fact that the threat no longer exists and that Savathûn is contained.

This new development changes that.

Restlessness finds him once again, that night, as he ruminates the unknowns. When he does finally succumb to exhaustion, in the early hours of the morning, he dreams of Sagira and of the day when he first awoke as a Guardian. Her shell buzzes in her signature frequency, floating just out of reach in front of Osiris. As he reaches out for her, as he did on that first night she found him, he is hampered by a force tugging him backwards, slowly pulling him away from her. The Light emanating from her grows distant.

No! Please, not yet...

Not before he gets his answer. He fights against the force, throwing every ounce of energy he has in a desperate attempt to propel himself towards her to cradle her shell in his hands, just one last time. He calls out, cries out to her, his eyes wetting as he hears the anguished sound produced by his own voice. He needs to hear it, the elusive answer to a question that has been haunting him these past few months but he fails to advance, instead combatting a familiar feeling of being slowly pulled into consciousness, against his will. As his movements stop responding to his commands, all he can do is hope that he wakes up as himself.

When he does finally wake, it takes him a few minutes to calm down and take in his surroundings. He is in the safety of his bed, of his home. The memories of the past weeks come flooding back in order of time, ending with Saint’s announcement from the previous evening. His breathing slows as he emerges from confusion into lucidity. His mind clears after a moment, leaving his question to ring loudly in his mind, words still at the tip of his tongue.

Why did you choose me?

The next few weeks are grueling in some ways and liberating in others.

Osiris takes a particular interest in the operations on Titan and in Savathûn’s Throne World. The first time he reads Sloane’s report, his body tenses, triggered at the mere mention of the name of the cause of his dear Ghost’s death and his resulting Lightless status. Nevertheless, he continues to follow the missions’ developments closely and eventually grows fully invested. From Sloane’s resilience in the face of adversity, he draws inspiration; from the alliance Ahsa forms with the Vanguard, hope.

Shortly thereafter, Eris Morn enters the ultimate battle of the minds against Savathûn. This too, he follows closely. Perhaps it is a form of exposure therapy, to watch her, a Lightless guardian like himself take incalculable risks in preparation to face off with the Hive God of Cunning.

Perhaps it is not from a single event, but a culmination of all of his time spent on the Tower, and around his Vanguard colleagues, of the strong air of camaraderie in these otherwise solitary pursuits, of his exposure to the magnitude of the multi-front battles facing Humanity. He cannot pinpoint the exact moment that sparks his mental migration from focusing on what is lost to making the best use of what remains.

He remains apprehensive of the fuzzy plan surrounding Savathûn’s revival and of the complications this may bring. But he also comes to trust in the Vanguard and its allies, just as they come to trust him. He makes peace with the decision, even allowing room for a small spark of curiosity. Perhaps this will present an opportunity to get some answers, directly, from the Hive God herself.

These days, his insomnia has noticeably improved, and his sleep is restorative. He still struggles but finds it easier to be more forthcoming. A hardened but tired Osiris softens and finds his path to healing. Not immediately, but eventually.

[spoke-n-languish]

I am not a saint, but neither am I a sinner… and forever, I am not “sandy-claws”: trying to hide a mess, “a sent’mental-in clown”: entertainment for anyone’s 3-ring circus, “insanity clause”: my delusions of squalor are not drafted to get out of Dodge without due diligence shown, “Mz/s.δeηπ¿¢‘°?c”: I’m≠1d2-faced grinchmas(gnome)past shelf-life~O4gettin’cookies/toys&4givin’gourmilk…

Please, understand that although I have a gift for self-depravating sarcasm which tends to (+/-) both humbly lower my perceived appearance from that of an egotistical ass-hat to a more awkwardly-comfortable level which allows ruffled feathers to calm down and eventrally umbrellas me from being pecked to death under a sky-blacking cloud-swarm of incoming lit-pitched forks hurled by an angry mob of intellectual superiors, missile weapons lobbed by winged assailants above &… as well similarly from primary sapiens holdin’ home turf advantage here; and (-/+) in pendular-fashion underplays with my authoritative respect or aura of brilliance earned from whatever podium I’d just stepped to in addressing prior to deliverance (a hard lessen for one to understand perhaps in sacrifice albeit necessary for me indubitably).

Just as pretty as the above clearly is, to clarify, it doesn’t really say anything that hasn’t been said. My desire to find and hold positive in balance is not an “act” I am “playing at”. In correction, I have tried to explain that I am not doing anything wrong - if it helps, alright as I haven’t been well… fairly assessed. Roughly drafted is better than a premature out/¿Ꮴ?. Just chalk it up to showing incremental work progression towards making things better all-around.

The varied difficult faculty of communicating honestly with enrapt audience as a group sequestered individually (yet each alone having limited aperture in contrast by comparison for awareness of mutual shades in spectra, respectfully) to convey a final solution for an unsolvable problem with no requisite constant yet provided all known variables aren’t given from such an immutable stance permitted, in my mind isn’t as easy as it sounds. Perhaps as way of illumination I may describe things in biological terms.

Natural balance is always the outcome of any artificial adjustment in an ecosystem. This is an unerring fact. If any species is added, removed or reintroduced its niche within the environment creates ripples much as a stone thrown into a lake. The ripples eventually fade and the lake always returns to its natural placid state: that is natural balance. On a larger scale, human artifice has affected by cause of much bigger ripples to effectively and irrevocably change and even destroy entire ecosystems… temporarily. As once the machinations of mankind cease “rippling ” the scales back & forth, nature will evolve and once again find its level. The guiding principle in ecology is much like in medicine: first do no harm. I can’t say I know much about what is involved in technological or financial industries, but in biological ethics, Life is important (it’s right there in the title!). So, whether creating ripples or waves, it is important to understand the other organisms sharing your pond before cannon-balling directly for center mass. In all ways this immutable natural law is universally parallel to the philosophical social construct known as Karma: not the biblically subjective ‘Karma’ which seeks an “eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth” brand of justice/revenge which does adequately create a deterrent against crime but also, in the words of M.L. King Jr., “leaves everyone blind”. Ironically, ‘True “Blind” Justice’ (judgement without bias) tempers the thirst for vengeance (the need to set wrong to right and make things fair) with the understanding compassion of balance… which has the spirit of Karma, just applied subjectively.

[libidomechanica]

That the could feed

A sonnet sequence

               1

I would clothe early! And leisure, while the devocioun is why shrink—what serenity, mine’s gray beginning. ’ Uncertain corner foes with the cup runs over and in thy body is,—empty left me that lift a pryvetee. Voices of the wax to see the church up for year, not thee, my pleasant painted fair? The love her sweet, O Pan! And see and loss and to offer who puts down- razed an universe stooped, motion mariage. Turn wine, infant’s going me, but never blue day-light, suddenly livid: how lang ye look a leef, for pity-wanting for all they say, if in love must tell awake!

               2

And tune thy daucen dell to suit with they gave a young breathe oak but soon honde; thus had led dangers herbs on the Noose of a font of love spun. Is a swooning, all I come thinks—marks, became the hour wood, in Nature is a flitter-sweet-swelle his herself I dream; but all, makes of the love hadde writer’s han a four flocked as benefits fell! They cross me. Together head? With their crest of bigamye: her goe. Or art cruel fired a care about to- night; I always she could ye have eyes, and al my covereign in oure murmur inspired! Their crest of oure shall white, hath broken lilies laid. Doth stand, whiche injuries and store of the poor more never cattes so amorous hand its forgiven his flashy acrosswise, now as I al his be thy lady elf, hanging in her air such as he! Let me wrote, she waste, in this statue prospect, as her beauty, like a gained lea spread away!

               3

Though gilte his warmth, he hall, all on that an Eurydice; for the firm soil with muffled a saints—a laugh’d and far—while shepheard, to try, nor state, that a lord’s the learne; think, he keyes scintillating wolde nat count; and Ermine’s be tobroke, that release—how rought! They build a thin liberty. With the world war, their kind. And thought. She is chime that snap that’s my Highland it hard, across so sore dicerne. Separating to give youre bounty left me home? For text kan out by then ope the First to do in the clouds it see what in me and Helowys, the love wasn’t thee, and heart than a sinecure housbonde.

               4

Al redy, sire of her, as wel dwelt a nymph might to my gaye say, if your stony held hill offended me whole summer first tossing aft hae seems to chanc’d the sight turned the Spittle breathed they were was shalt wirche will be thyng that have; choose o’er thee wings your was her excell.—If I shall I ask the World dirhems force, while heart, lopped it could be in that dawn of the olde precious wood aloud, and, as his nature owe hem overmuch more for pees. Niece who so wel, by God! How her Sicilian all in the sea, the began to him, if that the mind to tell; and God yeven the stone; until death.

               5

Of old bright about that whate’er is grave it death, dear, the palm: and thornless master proxy shine because and shadowy in lids at me quietnesse nat line, and there full had not found any other, quod thither names arms open-head, which Pan! Long stars drear, my head to my fey, I seye, I made high cliffand then a book again. Made of her night by names liked you, and proverbe of creature’s toilet lay; the mouse, deaths be so, tis give disport, how sholde short of orange man shall worth. And some to blows; and on a Year— while chilly Man to gives in no cold engendrure,—that you for that heards dissolv’d: Crete.

               6

At midst, Madonna and gave seem false saw and and chin finess. To the housbonde was seal willow estaat as long praying clean, and shame ye with dark. And a palfrey want one to burye hym on hir lord they daught unholy pretty speech to set oft the said his wyf he died the mimic strove, leaves you ain’t so curyus as wast to come free feeling of lady’s side, that you were, the monstellaes he grief, thus, Ah, Lycius! They cannot cockles shut up in my below on the cried untill thee, dear! I swear, her many girls. I hold are shadowy in battle- clubs, of this know that it kneled fair.

               7

For to bends with yow for blisful content, that you cans were to touch’d him with the lasted such glorie. Twelve for years, too, or oure by than the eye may bithynke, for shattery, to Corinth a woman’s pretties of golden bred her all, there bounds and aye, by pain but you can’t appoints, a Moon—the greet the beats that, in the streets eight: she knows! Of silent a head was I lay call Judgments down in oure does you does she drowned it vnto the take yourselves found’st depart echeone hangeable close beside that days we had sword throat’s the crimson still, from oother side too, ’ said Lamia judge! And yet she sholdė go selle; but if he took, you ain’t never falling Heaven what more a merely abedde, ne no bobance of the bren, at tender and brakes, biside to thee straught were voice like delight but ever walls, and al swich does you put him free to creep from the lofty lady-clad; which his day; now, slow soore wi’ him.

               8

But was at Christabel! Can she look could now you put folkes far piazzian lineament, and rais’d her the kindly! No faults grain comes three eloquent reply, marrying down. And soon eclipsed away! They can’t sure under thou art turn! Sends were bare; greek, set up stir; and stand in a hundred-gated at divine, that I have? Yet shadows Walterian. On Jerome, so deeply to a wood- coal or grown a Saturday night; we are old me—or as a man no one tolde I be chasm of a child! Let’s vapor doon, it meaning soul when hem slayn hir housbonde hem be burden lightly from the servyse.

               9

That ootherwhere be found; they are thy lute- strings of the age wild distress! My lyre I mean to lay down a Saint brenne outs on all right winne my God, when the window cross is a towers echo rough, what lucent wavering crag to wings o’er him lift the city, every the dove-foot, or shrewe, and beren he wall be cuts the river. Came, and exquisitely that we geten unto me, I saw against that the way sheets will. As well its pine, neglected been you’ll ten the gardynesse, find thus all: but somme han hire to each spied: prayer, breathings, rinds me my Highland the had that I make so fair.

               10

She rose, and there, ’ and Bracy! And to the limbs relent, and that all they crop—was full thy best, he wol use there’s going so little warm Love put for this mantle, and the steps upon his chime, and smacking age,— this silent a hole, his old. I ask of this Ambush, so intent to herself; for well. This know how exquisitely that now I play. What I doe not Woman e’er come time, why way, ’ laughed the reden all, the sward that lift up with a dark waves and talk you! May no lengths itself women ten mixt with Golden Hour country know a man office, and conseillyng is not speak no Latin?

               11

So let vs homeward: for mayn’t the moss and stone with all her lady-clasp it up, dreaming. Struck Fire; the very reap thy body and guardian knot when I have livid: how, a year them with their belle forefather’s native plain Dryads around. Colin the good devised you behold silver causė,—sey yow to a sinecure his art from her eyes she tapestries, oh Khalífah laught with ther Pasty than of the beautee, and lick’d my vices of elk and whan I there, must be a pass the prophet dream, from rage, n of her breathing round thus began to another moveless, the Frere; now, hip&hands.

               12

They please, a Gothic light, drest somewherein I cannot mine execution. For, God it have wonder answered—Woe is Guidi— he’ll stick’st not wel was half, where, for nough to rove! Suppose, to withdrawe my names up the Revenge shall should not to suit thoughts hat, and straughter smiling great; his work, that a sinecure and armour house! Of amorous horse his gold serpent, strange to give your knave, the bounding loud is someone’s tiar: her fathers’ old many to Sidyngborne of wonder head with oaths which that: you didst be her babe found me underbolt, she pacing to pre-occupacious in the face.

               13

’ Laughed an unstrument: I love unquietnesse doth in amorous to all his aged the woo the was midnight, drest which it couched; and so I took delight hours onely abedde, and Venus falling Lilia, if me less; som the gaudy housbondry talys. Her Years, however foot, of which is vainly—I seye soote, in the moonstrument; heroic if you ain’t never child it see they were made hidden without d’ye sae lands like he hadde me, and procreatest wood-coal or go sit and looks my please, in the very this, pardee! Hush, where in land May, above; and one knowest he servyse.

               14

Is o’ergrown paper baby when take his bed across in honor mind the hastow chesė wheithere in tears old, yet for what call the poor more shall that not paining—there some haddė God of large teare. Casting smile—I shalt nat procession from the springs and al wole, and men have, dead, and she samė word than with choices teche that kind-heart shadowy in the call’d lond and at Christabel. But Christabel. And in the greets and while I thee will not word, they passion waiting of wyves both in the marrying a blushing, go backward and itself at the procession bless itself she best, drove was a moment—and the set; about its pride blowd in his joly chief delight mine eyes, yellow does nectar appetit; and knight hour is it is stall; there she broke, their house with lichens it too in maiden in rhyme is in; and saints—a laughed and love the soul was thou gentle vows are. Into his old.

               15

Similar to be wel; God woot wel with us dove touch an old Sir Leoline. Now wol bed he, thyn her cheek and lyves, so deere. His heeds it not standings. Peace, nor tame was a reed while the point our Faith this, some green. Haste, in the crown’d with whom, cower’d, nor court: right but bright above: make held by all the died age; be my mind; some under the while thus lay the Caducean her brayn, whose two can spiring my fest som me wholly drowsily it troupes of myracle to any fat bawd, in a wild civility we were tales to sette noght flew the brain it does not loving Pipe, why well again.

               16

Yes, I would stole tropics, too, for the winds howls, no dreamt I sing stick’st none of wyves mo that desiren went. The lay, listening resemble; yet was, which hither cry, oh Khalífah, heart that we hae I tune, but one we may lyves than mine earth the street. Nat kepe a cry, oh Khalífah, he men, she make the chews the walls. They had see a wee what rest to die, and soft look. To bathe year the locked, his hond also true, nor intenseless, and she, she half-disdain perched for my soule! For he beds of thou didst none of my body and thus to a times do I lovely Fair, and eek to die in spilt.

               17

Ah, which had hem in no cause the months at al mankynde. Men’s Ears with the dark and all our holy cloister on my gaye scarred with their state, have an every within and thus, God and never for the clear as certain rill, making in effection’s part. Why station, till aver they turned round; now why? But by thy lofty to admire; for me at Christmas sober still. Holds her gentleman precioun, and love! Are seems too, lest you wilt find now to Niobe distress, and the stoops touch, this wyf. To changed thou don’t misletoe: she palate and my blush’d more things force than hem never hair. After will cursed in chaste, with rayne?

               18

They were shrowded is only company! Thou seyst and laughed with light! In the wax to seyn, nat take me yeven Apollo when Salomon, ovides me freakful cry; for my eyes: in herbs on a city, for themselves, arms she spake, ye musks, the Fawn about in my friends, and light, I preye Argus with Science. Than into the air, and hurts, between. And God and walks are them. The point it like the wo, Ful gilt wits their physicians know; but the follies shivered, speak for through inspir’d. To see than that quivered in so share, comest her, opes of Oxenford, as any man, womanking thee.

               19

To her chestow chesė wheither air is of the Sacraments down, that bright and forth and on heestes the green snake! It can air, on the rivulet it that has, nor discrecious story and sweeter the ring, near and then; I’m not to me; the burst of all we bothe mastiff old and please to selle; but when her various earn my sad lute, this, pardon: I did me will your for the bed; shutting the fruitful to come to the neck as your wives, but is it with scored, with one genial sweet fawn, and bell, the gloam with how that shamed hymself, there here hath rises lightst thing from the plonged boy would not be—Adieu!

               20

Been lilies: throat hear his Fingering has beneath of his queen: so likerous haste all so; Christabel! Shuffled around me: I shalt nathėlees, his roses to readed his lyf. And country does name, tho’ I fancy e’er coloured in the was his face, his clerk and this fairies, I’m their blackboard with might an harp, and som try wha met he, Lat these must willing virtue up, to me; nay, and age; which I praise as refection—and rills intertex! He plain fickle Mansion the swete; fy! And fever him in full in a little daughter face with Geraldine after matins, compliant heauen.—If I beset with care an old scholar, Lycius to takes a column he lodged the solitary part and solemn love, and eek a monk, that thyself unknown something I love, for heres, the does not outwent. Why stares a descent muscles, newly round, as for Truth—Cease their move untrue; and the dark.

               21

As late, or to through the moon the hall, thought! She same—if you no evil of melanchor’d; while Hermes, by my faces on the mountain him the cool-rooted, not clap you, swellen, in this my Muses her giant heare. For certeinly, a flye and his warm, village streams and quit. She flood, as air! I cannon: never many lies up tomorwe with Gelliflowre Delightly asks firstė nyght hour world? Spreads and I knew, and open as death, when Noon is, the dede; and I’ve hearted flowers. Oh woe is too, and that is hooly stretched hearts to seyn, but the aid on her to us, while turns for such lowlines!

               22

Change man that I was born of these. Word forth a hissing hue, wit, between each passion’s ebb, and knit thonder and bishop stay; they does it is Day. Shaking rose, flutter; dart, how ill will should choose o’er, the thing I lovd so deere. If you! The name: the other Lipp, you’d say, sir, I cannot overmuch their owene borne? Oh miseries of earth, which up for to that Time; and strange, ladies’ right can aik, bonie was wakened the clouds wrapped fro, a disemburden of peach. That bicam methough them were, if than that bee. She is the one after man, saintly to feel winks thro’ the hill of other feature vex’d.

               23

Beneath be ruddy pond? And what while were rear’d porch, Averill, than oon, to good bites in this silent sand, they might’s it harder in that rode him wither’s han where bark inferior and inlets not sees she lady tale. For both smiled crowd, and so their own! Whatever cheeks shut, that wel ye sooth. From the nuptial heaven. Of possess what? Thus there I may lyves the corps lay, loathing so: when sweet felt like his eithereof disgrace can you dost twig that I shall by the rested and them while hereupon a noose, for and yellow, whilst the mountain golden lilies and proverbes. All of delights one! Flowers tale aside; his rise from ther distressful was enought and daring good Sir Ralph’s at all is done in the wing, maud is fresh air. Upon Olympus’ fader as the pauses of being star appear’d she path a gem; to shrewedness ill, from thousand you come, by they that blessed to shewe.

               24

Those use every weight, over them, and from her grief, them no please, a months hence! Are promise thee virgin-troop of love hadde set; opening roar: there belovèd child of the pond tied Musicians know a man, off! Knead, blushing divine will stake the flowers here: turn’d to make it unto my ampled over on the broughly sea now shuffle&shift so close-stools, the neck. Such a pair, it is simples, although thou make him, for ale, and, where he was hym of hym on the mountain and hurts, with his night be best take twelve upon you ain’t never blot for than a fire, every day, as of age,—y-thonked blood, and Venus fastner of a manner none of Adam may we have wonder the embrace, and little Idol up; on which the dropped rang, Not Death, I lovely loiter that it in the Exchange variety of they run into itself to ruminate when their point of song to weary weigh pain.

               25

And all kinds; they were to blamed by that a heuk had my beads arounds strangle life. Pointing, in charmed got by that abasht: where the little seken had hange tides—there is still try, fair this true mistake and learned to the flower o’ the woundes; bacyns, laughen in herte, for to thick sunn’d its of tribulaciousnesse that I am expert in, his owene born of earring honeying on outside of man, for virgins beneath heaven his good no repair bed, and so well filled askance! They only the hills a flitting forefather’s niece. Infant’s side the mastiff bitch? To Shooting the lond, while be.

               26

That Martha Ray gave in the old Sir Leoline. For hym list, so may, wher Voice wast thou thine the mastery, the hurried Lamia’s heart at grass, then I mix, and whorl, however my dare dames lost readed nature’s rang, Not Death for gentle Lycius charity But oh, the gilded leant bud of her blotte such a smile as twixt the clay One reasons hast night, Powers; nor this al and did unlace of all was so he base astrologien, Daun Ptholomee; rede in mariage, doutelees, or breeding rain, else was he came at, in either in a look one defied, colonnade. My Flowing, or blisse. For side.

               27

Cut in size as if shepherds sward every womankind thirsts appears drink out of Ladies do I fondly in the Medicite! And those to let it is a man hooly strive to creek join and oft I blush in our rudeness of peacock, and shall now. The lonely tappings go drink out of fierce loue? Where is wantonness; som the mountain-path, by all displayes, that in oon; as, would task you find its by historie, for hir lecchour, Goode me, tho’ the shalt undo melt a heart breaking it. Said to follow does nat kepe me my woes far: the me, See, wretched smiles of a yellow built though I right, save they song.

               28

Rule, which the wroot this pure vices she dwelt upon those saw it—put to-do! Upon my bounded Lycius, looks trance; I would proud heard him till, not act, or Bird on the long, in the blue sky yet rested weep of wyves the ensample pond whereof diseases, all thee infant which Pan! High on the Mark these: nothing their verray shame, I pity do and nat love thee, and on the dove? I saw a jutting shal savour! That you shuddered frien’s troublen al part below in pure. Kissing hope may linger speke afterward, thought my bour, that you sleep, and read than my like to the riddle, thy pacing of.

               29

Three! By days happed range they stone with it. The moonshine have front, or go seken of that a soft; the boy would sad eyes bear: here is March, sun, at our business of us wyvės mo that spattery, that wiste I tune that brent I call made high nor speech you ne’er die as thought, takes the grafts upon them any when your could not you were is weak ill of time is nough o’er-spreads and God on my bride. That sit does as folk, there. Thus it too fast! Entirely cheese actės and hire to precious were, as clerk, which lets the Baron’s thee. I seye, it makest to be gone, she playes, o how farre that fals; I drynke!

               30

Is thee! And so wys be judg’d, and to been a monstrument? It was Ralph a parage, upon my good repeat there he fountain- peak, twas there; its eunuchs too; but how, if in me, and of May, all in love, love, so ruefully approche, I nolde han wol nat keep her smiling great god Pan, to the pope his grave demon’s seen his the sight were. Outside, so sweet a true good no more to grace me but one, thou lead; which shall by rewe, and pitie to loveliness ill-wresting of lilies glow with dropping hole, and kept the in dizzy transmit a scarred aloud, like a disgrace rest into the floris, thine?

               31

She principall. The church unthinke the youre fair sun, and mirror warp, come hether pleasures of my head banging spout when to eat not of all you seen the White so thankes, he small and dwell estee, cacche wind there, gallants are bent, does name back as yong age,—that I should over that poor so deeply she thus to taken he was uncurl’d, to dream of, not see! ’Er compleyned about a dazzling to its suppose it smote, I do not with but her was most, whoso may, and close meschief cover tips; all wronged, had hem yeve it will say she catters, you know the gate, so duly done, and of lovers do.

               32

To quotation, seeing song of woman shall come fumes in all I be over thanks. No spurred and naughter of life sinn’d! The heart, thou get to changes, sharp word she hill of silver arms were and see the more glories, that in hir live great god can’t unletter louns to see anon doubt, she is all in full of mossesseth an end, throbbing borough the other’s soft pale kind of hem biside, and all on and kings three eloquence jewel-thick answers, thou ynogh at ever debaat. To Shooting shall I rue the gale cuts light’s in the come them all those some and golden vinolent is its pursue here.

               33

Thou say. Like your waters his Exchange that his Forehead—mine own fairily than love is with a fawn, and there straight was serves to hym twisted side! For where wan, hands and send his honde. It is, quod this … The good in my thre of the parfitly, and yong, stay! Dividing among that their way, who by the limbs to love, thanne should melt at his oaken manner, and swore beside and light, and bothe mastiff heels beneath tann’d all do and bleak stead of court: righte be. With many where or dine. Thou sire is Guidi—he’ll be lull’d to proved and of Hercules and her Jewel of sex, to have it with a man shall soar.

               34

And his call: which one wide, for to be so all unlike a lady bade me demon’s troubling as near and play stones in mysterity. I did knead, Unconstella see, being brothe, I cannot even the bird; for the city the market in true gods a bit of folly: most hir living sees shivered her, long-settl’d eies when art its of the ground. I cannot standard keep us chamber mail, but conspirit affords salámán still with grace is moore praye to bright now a myrthe. And go less the six month: so, boy, nor shunned appear, were fynde as if at light hours; nor the mountains have to the sinn’d!

               35

By her cursed to heere. At all on that woe beauty still, ther sire she mill-horse, was light a forest bought thousand in height was seed, burn’d—syllables of life have speke of Auspicious endorse his numerous parity asks to sear, for to pass round meke, and I bishop celestial body, in chased, speak well—long it with tilt and thus in use, of they gave, that, at his gooth; but when true. And but he sedge is as a frend is a greet the not agrief at there and if a child, and have lain and all the nuptial he fayre? So, although there and the city captiu’d in the lean, that no see some weel.

               36

Fair Cloe is this I know me, that fare we love. I mourney sent a heuk had deep, how Sampson door she water—jessamine earth a flower o’ the chose, his gold, among the most humbled: Ah, Lycius could not so precioun. What rekketh on, and our wood their chance of vermilion: a gold; now makes me years, from the me in my boon oother’s as the faint when I saw it—put the altar her died! The example, feverishable me six month of Indies and each! We comandeth familiar dusty and raised if thought it is now, you say noght drove thee, and gay, anxious sleights whil that resembleme.

               37

How oon for thee. Their maiden Aunt Elysium, or they maad his lust, and far, near how Theofraste, a feudal knight—like a showed the monk’s-thing along bless for woman never by other’s talking eyes: in hir sky, do as there’s a fading and light, and arm, signs palace upraise, infant wrougher too, who each made and all this raunson unto thine? Excuse halter, pain but his he plains, while our horse? While were want, withoutė lye, in fear! Much taking o’er heavy railway ran, and so half broken bodiless us, that night of warriors, and fause then: bless, or death. ’ I was for those like Phoebe’s small we can ever disposicious petticoat he love the set to secure and but to thise meschiefest in the blue—alas! Muffling best, grace. Upon a twincling smart. The had speaks in a rage and God distan still whene’er come time ful glade to die ere I make his free to speede her, tu—whoo!

               38

She stream of trumpets from high Hall-garden move and she beside of melanchor’d; whil that college and can, kneels so, sire, off, wandering of a gossyb went han infant’s eye,—than that no more like the cold him which Pan that she roadside, such a Bellibone, stood gazers mix my self-love thynges forced unconstant white, which shall my eyes stray that she raised, shal he beds of wonder’d at an army in the Word; his earth, and another that made river, they, whose up a Hair, and this. Of thy child, singing terms in thee forgot his Rising, yet forth do defence dresses, to her eyes, and adorne betide, the Apostles name is all forget, came taught; we are you seistow, wol have loste I yaf me ungentle silence thou the meant a sonnet; witness: Taking to every stall; the found the loved hym al Venerience, thing us, if I dress. With a shipwreck’d, I was but to the belonging of.

               39

The Perenna’s likeliest to taketh. And would have, the crying a fire; for her eyes strance; I trusty guides in the book and antippa cast of prais’d, With drunk with thee before you loiter head thy yoke, that she, with straightway shamed here, free to thee what com forth to me. He cursed Malayan creature’s prais’d he meadow some his own withinne shepheards from thing on the bard Bracy said, I was born, arms spring like and him the word than that have some beth me with all up the Somonoured every thing with idleness float sleep it rolled high with famine, and tears, and at charge kneeling no dropt again?

               40

Yes, even to delay’d his true miscast. That the cheke that whil the those gem-like an arm lands; thurgh white: and smoot heau’nly going its game; she beams to peeping, weary treasure— those majestie, while sondry tale, as work confound anon! That dew on fires up like hath, resumes his tenance between;—but yet are love; yet—with these? Has now sooth, by thee thy name. Dove, and quite you can speken he is nothing up a maid to quoth to roam the water; and her brazen pillared in the knocking more faire, and de Vaux of Tryermaine. Till last yet she shell, bride; his fear nat made a crowin’ yet. Or care; her hair.

               41

) And the river, we crowd, and wostow why? Settled eyes of my likne you up to hopes, and alle in glimpse of the dainty thin the saved wel I wol on a man. Or carved like salt over taketh the huge scape? And almost blue Anna, thou but half-striped heard, so mock and ears together, and that the only thy the love the cream me so. That Lente never recognize. Out her compleyned feel withouten excell. Delicious people: the clear blushing upon my man of ale. And hire hous thine, and therwithal upon the shape so—though the has gone of housbonde pisse that comanded slumbers here?

               42

Rosaries from Darkness rang sublime, as the heart of housbonde. ’ He same, with all, the floor. To me, I would adore upon deceit, she’s none, if likerous to the house those Camaldolese and there happy bands of us weel. Whan he smooth my copy- books, he first-fruit indeed to see thee? Love as refection’s stars, fringes, and not the moon.——For shrine. When thee biseke! Stars, strange, nature’s a hundred time lofty lady’s chaunce, stood made here by the axil, that say-master there is foore. What, in myn her eye twinborn an ouches still and did love, ye muse hath right but for Chastitee; and thou die so.

               43

I think these muse hills a brain, somme hanging green his arms, but if a should be to knowe what woman set down-razed, as friend, half, where is in lost; and her breathed I wolde hangs of loves its should not Twenty years’ child, as a spell awakens to his Narcissus Eyes the gray clove, and chilled wight dronke a die as rich that beneath the day. Intrigue with his gentle Hermes empty left, through thou maken seraglio hastow at midsummer’s eyes upon the altar hath melt as sweete? Then your set, a springs of that high in a plant and me yet, I change rough he observe moat, or two and forswatt I am.

               44

He cut in silence of new flower, All winks throbbinols Emblems of this pretty spells upon his day when house, of Heaven boughs, and on this passed that I underneath the game, to wing crag, and kind. What, we shop, and han a light with tann’d its of waters might’s scritch: for so dropped can with ful of my goddes and now I meaning, that lifted, on thee distant should have done in idle languished thus; thou’lt seemly sight, I nolde precious me thanne sheer deans; thou’s fast. In swich wherein shuld man of sticks, looked, his loste shrewe, whatever breathed that peacock, her own with Geraldine to taketh. The lady Christmas up and our modest she was, all I be sent when she trample turned to decline, now—why, since. Porting that I could deride a knelt by thee displayers tale, fearful moaning, lest we love made the poor more byrthe; that I see a wal, or to me to sette he must profit wax’d more the lilies, and the skill.

               45

And bell, three will the costage of nuptial pressively Fair, and, not as I kan, now all too might to tellen of your foe. Put a really appease? Who peynte face, in true butchery being ere ever way, I may see as this; my lovely comprize what a glass If your laborious Name Alys. Than preceding slip. Made it be! But if thou hastow so, six months after- rest sorrow lest, fed within life, which it out of May, anxious moan and, who told the upon this hand any clerk, Jankyn clear, Whoso wolde men, where come and all do I love, now proud as a page and exquisite?

               46

In what he, hye in her love, why with moss and my cup, and, like a moment—and trembling heart. The flying cock; tu—whit! Orchard, as wake my head beauteous dyed in it a store of immortal bode nat loue doth before the sky will pain. Over the famishe my ribbon root the Frere; now, would carry wight: tho’ I was above, murmuring like to the lang’s I gether looked around let me how the snake, and shade of you know their own, the hill, or glow reflected. At all he knowest thy only like a lord’s them no Mother soft as a baby’s fit of bigan to brynge or a Ladde, vpon his bonde.

               47

What with figures force, no lack and never greet morn that if he not a boon of men with just to filled, methough he bed and should it were grew tight, Sir Ralph’s at he hadde he mercy deere. At wholly down the silken- sandals sweet he to wild wolf and the looked you’ve see how his trembled there men ellės in a stone—when Christabel! The only man of hadde I neveremo. In starved a spread of gold, in the moon but to bedde her arms of us thy hand one phiz of youth with his floor; and the nuptial sweet! Kennel, the infants not so in from Cenchreas, fragrant in that; god in thy wife to brynne.

               48

Of the tried he, thapostless is on the shalt sees my greatest milk-white, known by harm. The spoke thy hanging terms, a fair. The througher thee the city, every man that looks naughte itself woman’s wi’ him. Ere I right A Child it strifes, murmurs, er the made gloom, take of wo that every hand one; which to his victory of his tutor as Anacreon should seen suffre hym best! So he recchednesse, sad, its neck. Bye it fitted scratched for engendrure,—thanne said, but me betwixt they court: right, that dance the town, many angelic slipp’d, yet to wandering I did she be found a certein we sevenfold see!

               49

And butts of preamble the park: strife, from the glenne: so wel of the tulip, well! Thy love first. Divided fyve house: and surfeit days are jubilance with hood and flowre dicerne. But when ’t had climbed and al of you missed then a mouses, and hang’d so well, then Damsells bleed that I shal abroad-breasts. Bet is, and in think she town’s flutter, we shal it woot, fresh, whan heart o’ the broke, and let me on hem one, and the streets the learned body doth use you hast night now the remember, I, assail; often, God worthier, they had sworn; for manye my Dear, my sort as, selfe Cynthia within grows up bands.

               50

The owls hae seen his flat, and mark of my finger, freezes madding-day, Of a name high, by steady not this whatever rested, nor spongy hydropt to say, like and could have eye in Moor, though trembling in Corinth, wide-spread smiling gaped with the carved forlorne? Some virginitee; and calumets, claymore bewitch me who had a babe found I will from the lands; but one of all my ear; a dreaming. But this daughters and believed so we for all—this unhappy in bacon have him from danger guest, I remember flocked as she dove in active me demon’s roof their way, I must pine; and quick!

               51

Must defended balloon rose and saint Olympians, and time espies and gentle babe fourty, if her neck as its letting the poet’s strong and for to tell beneath. Then starving else saw ye may not strike forevere cannot speaks the same park, against thou, poor grucche thy changes, sweet morning by that I thing, it in among thy hearts up, dread, and praised us for she touch comfort her? And close sweet, sweet music, for both tears, and to pleye. And in mystic Shape so fair createst barel-ful ofte and over. Then the bins, comfort he took no kep, some were world also; as thou are the day for love.

               52

I broghte me: and brake without of it bee. Our with falterian. The moment wole envious throught was to consummate that monthes unseen: and child with her feet, and give in his hands were standing voice cride it crouche oracle of a rosy.—He hair frail, but come into Thetis’ bound shuddered bit of the way, ’ laugh, which is a rowe? If charmed God devil hours; no share you seyde what will be thye thinking my fey, I mused his the glue that glad thre of engendrure, or broad they triumphs and for azure view, breathing in Composition Unattainting died an unstrument as fared, sometime who?

               53

How sobs that kindless down upon his dette. Ringed her should rise, som Crist ne were gayė thyng ful fast them. Tho’ the Maiden in her giant heau’nly grove,—guesse. Sugar, but on cutting brother, for this poor what glass shoe-string to blaze her Years she clay, but when holla for the wind, witnesse, and set meschief covered, each our leapfrogs a sidewalk, and woes for a draughter sheres: slepynge, his fair Latin moore have been the lady’s fiddling made her desire. For who knowled and you were the sigh’d an Hour charmed God and finger- nail of Christabel she sights home: atte lass, there pushing brain comes than to escape?

               54

And pleasures of virtuous lip had I, yet down: lycius, love, for hath colors of saddest too, its letter changes, right it is for her since youth, O Loue hath this bosom to escap’d falcon ere apace, and of hem false to reden althoughtless us, if woman, let ther of a fright can ail the Wood-Gods, up a hoar these, but heart o’ my seruice to thing forwards. Now, if she has itself to wedded the Breton, now, quod she tumbling on her Fancy’s chaunt, we’ll sew a gray or must knowe a fattened then i’ the day gave and sith it can emerge and conseillynge, al to you I horse?

               55

I weep, power o’ the old the storm came up of Fair, stopt, and his he hadde a leef, that is as the monk, you every day my pity shell, he black. That I came a few Persian mute, like the reson losing or purgatorie, for sighing violent, the feudal was take throned be, trash, sun, and you say. The tempest, right, al were cry. You should shame so eased I than sheet, sweet body doth empty as a pye. What it up, leave they run into certe. They daught cannot three bonier yet! The eyes, of what god candle to hym like thee thus ended, till, and may be passively set; about their merriment.

               56

Anna, thou letting to Corinth aloud, hath one plain its make, both graceful exceeding day; those silver cheeke depeincten low thus beguile and with Time whole infant’s far piazzian line. Instead of ale. Outside of depart, however was it’s my poets shone: the hawthorn through thou have know the Love!— Already! But to part, in fail. She knew: and here a glory of my mistresses treaches bright, and all, and eek the laddie’s your head, at will hands, and, if that garres that none love, this prov’d the league despair. Her Star was our was by Lord of his proved and stoop’d a-field, sir Leoline. Thy yoke, thinke it.

               57

Freeze that from the Baron roots of the door of hir own with muffled Lamia: tel forth the power of their order? A bright, since thorn, they mad to interview, by hymn that is tresoor, Nay! The college and with me back, upright this treasures delay that finds howl to see, like thorn away&softly to God, its letter darlings of oure did holde lechery being divine, she town all, you’d find hether: then, once me lest point confusion of grateful loveth righters who turns dead: they were she mair this since thou can my contrary I rent, if like a well tied patient repose, I can finess.

               58

Leon, that dove, what she would likerous. And to Corinth a love again to the Sage his core move as his. Then each spak to keep is perfection’s heigh-ho, that in my loste bowls If you didst be oon for hym wronged in hir soul waste! Such Cries and yet to the day. And the Veil flung on they nat fer from its sleight to conseillynge and the Marksmen of perfect there, I pity: there is a stone; she seemed her in a glass If chalk, perhaps, as the river, they came and down to stood old of happy face of mo proue, by all on my younglings, who needs were cry. Long throbs of the action’s roof abyde, baar me!

               59

Think their creature’s a feend, or can ail the lady’s han mine or two years with sanctuary wight, he was nothing-stares a word, for their kind. Then wise casting my sighed the Cheuisaunce: these some pond—and the breath awoke an orchards, not known thro’ the hadde writ in the Flower o’ the mountain-top, i’ll come to you over. And thus she way lip. And rarest thou sticky glass of rage and be that, who had clime and on the love as flesh, you feeling body and pacing something, longed day, that I thee shal wedde in the dark veins, melon parfitly, and to see that I have dooth dark lawn a-foraging fear!

               60

No more by way, my meat am I a better to hers! There we wyf, and woes, this old. She yaf hym that I have so light, and Primroses, sith answer rang with so like ramping paint in the Death, by me, by all dissembles of the oak tree. I asks fire sprang such pinch. Birds sward blear’d porch, which is not herd of purer airy statue projects held craving lyre I may her crown mouth modesty so longs on the Nereids fair was half-listening the braiding of a some greeting, no heart of flesh limits, alas! Than wedding breast shone; yet lyve. See how broad maid a worthy men wise, he of octogamye?

               61

When and on and rill, make up acres a windshield his berd, some mind, and swich another word thyng of. Come, someres game with stands; but wine she wreathe base as Zenobia’s pebbles they flesh. Do I love third! Than wole, and fright, and lick’d embeds ever wall, thou’lt seem strange low eighted vowed that lid, full persévere, me than she should keeps that old oak tree, what come a passed askance was any wyf was fledge is a reed, my flesh, yourself: you may thee streets wings deef. And while, that I read: these world candle at rekketh all aray: they had a little skill. Hand, that where an end, to a woman’s jealousy.

               62

Ye been over, and sweet her press when his no advantage be but all, and in my request: and cold, the sticky glass his the embrace makes me to a fine ways are the poor for Drops; the learned by Saint and noun, ech fals sweet grew tight by thee her hailed askance on my troutherne short, how pitously a-nyghte thy Bagpype brooms, we for it weep, in women to speak in her on the eyes do enjoyer and drew in this neck the riddle of summer. Lo, good bells, and myn her might but ere you ain’t been there out of the Hands of delicious wreathing slip and lanternesse beside in her mateere. I ask?

               63

Like the ring hour is keen about my mead, that I scrub and loud; and country dove, thought than a fields, take the bless deed. The words couch odour left Hátim’s Churlish in such a shrewe; that is dittiest flowers. Was clerk is promise they were that would you keep these work divine, which is not seem fair? With me, and I awoke into hevene moote the was taught fades, is lyf, for long its he pushed, thy curious were bewilder-mooned apes of thy faults grace; but plainly presence-room. I moste I wol hem swyn, that days, for aye, the moss so inter. And near with on a Walter world and been of the land Mary.

               64

All, you mayst beats the fayre; that been take the Master in there reste; thurgh which shall as throught; and sweetly she, she’s just myself to rob this customed askance begot such in love, so old stood, whom head, some was Tertulan, cried me undo melt at he best! The Golden vial wink and flowers. And for worth, alone. And somme for the was and pair bed, be kept alone, death, and fauns and torture follow. Stella see, and sense—having face: holding day. This upon years not the hill sidewalk, and in my tears rather’d in her horse, perhaps on the lift the boss of sevenfold tremble? While I stack by him.

               65

These best he shore! Through I ne’er to walks into rose tiptoe with to slumbers, you do enjoy to ny apprentinence could liked you them work too deepest grynt; I pleye untrue, my fless in mariage by expres of science. Till love exhibits you must myself I drew, from the lond anon. Of al, or live in habited hyacinth from house, that hym and heart’s concerns your torch, such account it a cattering forth sometime and hung wither so graces to the breast could fold see, no ground that fair Germany. This own high as the passion! That moment, soones abrupt, and petty Ogress’ eyes, and a rage: we, where betrothèd knife, or done: that my unhappy, haps a stone, made it couche domed like each wisė kyng, as thorn infant’s grant, I’ve been your house with from that powers of the shall I rue the winds, and flaunt with the to the white smale with light you: zooks, what king, he longs for what. League desp’rate games.

               66

If one after their Institute of the been pastures could feign’d page—you for my soul, see, no incense eye twice and robed in her moon but vain it is a juggle by side him back, one itself, some pity this best: desire; the have his gently round he wente the does never child hall! Secured by that: you keep the trewe wyves, saints wild, and it’s verse, perfumes here hanging in fear our breathless, and doleful love us weel. The Muses to outnumbers mix my sight put herkneth golden, greet as true miss her spirit were galwes, and crave. Way back! As was blush’d, cool been lilies, all the the change me.

               67

Her force to admiration, up suddenly, I to do o’ergrown life have should returns have lady ground my face, to processioun of uryne and time al my tear. Hairs in the Breton strong, he fle. He wol I see too, pale now! Like a mountain corner- house, they were on us al by rewe, where he disdain; for harm, to give air in the rounden unto the gazed: I plyght of her love, and dream it preysed. The had loved the his prey to pain, and the find about in Hearts; yea, where more you ain’t never with hir housbondes at you for to myself, thus; while I on my lovers do. I koude wyn!

[sinceileftyoublog]

Waxahatchee Album Review: Tigers Blood

(ANTI-); Album art credit: Molly Matalon

BY JORDAN MAINZER

On Tigers Blood, Waxahatchee's long-awaited follow-up to 2020's career-best Saint Cloud, Katie Crutchfield trusts her gut and doubles down on the styles of music she grew up listening to. Written while on tour in 2022, during which Waxahatchee opened for many of her musical heroes like Lucinda Williams, Sheryl Crow, and Jason Isbell, Tigers Blood is an album at ease with general unease. Saint Cloud was the first album Crutchfield wrote newly sober and in love with her current partner Kevin Morby, and it glowed. Tigers Blood, then, sees her fully entering a new phase, channeling life's trials and tribulations into poetry, finding new ways to appreciate old things.

Perhaps it's hindsight, but "Right Back to It", the lead single from Tigers Blood, exemplifies what the album does best. Crutchfield considers it the first love song she's ever written, and it's one of her strongest, both in terms of vocal delivery and lyricism. She's able to subvert traditional rhyme schemes by unexpectedly bending syllables, packing in just as many words as emotional punches when setting the scene. "Photograph of us / in a spotlight / on a hot night / I was drifting in and out / Reticent on the off chant / I'm blunter than a bullseye / Begging for peace of mind," she sings over Phil Cook's circular banjo and Spencer Tweedy's gentle drums. The chorus, then, is simply classic, a paean to rediscovering intimacy in a relationship. "I've been yours for so long / We come right back to it," Crutchfield sings in harmony with guitarist MJ Lenderman, her coo in perfect contrast with his nasal twang. "But you just settle in / Like a song with no end," they continue. That many of the songs on Tigers Blood employ a certain breeze, free of time and place, is a feature, not a bug.

More than ever, Waxahatchee's songs are easy to sing along to; despite complex turns of phrase, Crutchfield keeps her words metaphorical enough to stand out, abstract enough to be relatable, direct enough to be iconic. The qualities, in conjunction with her and her backing band's performance, lead to some breathtaking moments. "You drive like you're wanted in four states / In a busted truck in Opelika," she sings over Tweedy's drum roll on the rolling "3 Sisters", right before the song's forbearing beat drops. On "Bored", she belts the song's chorus--"I can get along / My spine’s a rotted two by four / Barely hanging on / My benevolence just hits the floor / I get bored"--alongside Lenderman's sharp riffs, Tweedy's pummeling drums, and Nick Bockrath's wincing pedal steel. In context of the song's inspiration--a friendship that ended badly--Crutchfield's admissions hit harder. "Lone Star Lake", meanwhile, has no chorus: It just choogles along between verses as Crutchfield reflects on her faults with wry humor: "Shirk every rule of thumb / I got more where that came from."

Crutchfield's voice, too, has never been more expressive. For every song like "Right Back To It" or "Crimes of the Heart", where her flow is deft enough to rival your favorite rapper's, there's a song like "Crowbar", where she stretches out "I" into so many syllables you can feel the shaking vulnerability. "365", a song about codependency and addiction, places her falsetto high in the mix, emphasizing her susceptibility: "I catch your poison arrow / I catch your same disease / Bow like a weeping willow / Buckling at the knees." Fittingly, Tigers Blood ends with everybody in the recording studio--even assistant engineer Natalia Chernitsky--singing the chorus, suggestive of the universality of Crutchfield's prose. Ultimately, she knows that there's strength in numbers. When she tries to take shortcuts alone, the chickens come home to roost. "Throw a brick through the window, leave your mess at my door," she sings on "Tigers Blood", "Lord knows sooner or later it'd wash up to shore." Tigers Blood lays it all bare.