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melissa-titanium · 1 year

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SCUG HEAD CANOSN jsutbecause iknow ill never draw them all

(warnijng. LONG ASS POST)

FOR 1. SIZE CHART BABY

monk < survivor < arti = rivulet < spearmaster = saint < hunter = gourmand!

survivor: a little on the skinny side, inbetween artificer and monk. albino i think :) if not then has sort of snow leopard patterning. small eyes, taking after their mama (i . headcanon gourmand is monk and survivors parent if this is dis proven by canon im So sorry i havent finished the game yet)) triangle shapes mostly. quiet and cautious (they used to be curious, but the world didnt allow that) and always tense, prepared for a fight. desperate to find monk :(. journey < destination. glass half empty

monk: takes more after gourmand! orange tabby coloration (+ karma flower marking on back) if that makes sense. big round eyes (sort of like how scavs with big eyes r usually friendlier) and significantly healtheri than survivor ! (i think slugcats r sort of like seals, they hv a ton of bodyweight. though they can vary, gourmand is like a little over average scug size) circular mostly (round ears, round eyes, round body etc) kind and curious, sees good in the world but above all wants to find survivor. journey > destination. glass half full.

hunter: very big slugcat, almost unnaturally so. a little skinny cause having the rot is no good for your health :( i dont have many headcanosn for hunter but ithink they have poor sight , completely blind in their canonically scarred eye which i think it was overtaken by the rot. the reason they can hold spears isbecause they have tendrils of the rot growing out of their back and wrap the spears around if that makes sense. square shapes mostly. a bit stocky, more muscle than fat. quiet, stern, and rarely takes risks. a bit lethargic from the rot eating away at them. journey < destination. glass half full

gourmand: THE best rainworld character *THE BEST* i think aboutthem alll the time ohohoo o RUBS CLAWS TOGETHER IGOT A TON OF SHIT. ok ok so basically they r THE ultimate slugcat . u guys know that one post about gourmand having the power to throw spears with the strength of a missile being shot. i cant remember if that was the exact wording but YEAH that was my exact idea of them they are incredibly inventive and smart and STRONG AS FUCK. they throw spears with *three times damage* than the average amount and that s FUCKING insane they kill so many creatures in literally one single hit man you cannot tell me that isnt Ridiculous. like no wonder they get exhausted after that?? god DAMN??? i straight up forgot what i was writing about in this post ilove gourmand too much OH RIGHT HEADCANONS . well for one they r surv and monks parent . due to ahving explored pretty much every corner of the region, they know a significant amount of rain world's history, just by piecing it together themself! very wise, emotionally. very strong morals and very strong will! they are surprisingly humble despite their incredible feats, but arent afraid to show confidence when needed. they are a friendleader forreal, they definitely know every slugcat in their colony by heart and are always there to cheer you up when u r feeling downl. good slug,best friend. knows a TON about fighting, very good at paw 2 paw combat i bet theyd spar with the little ones for fun sometimes :). already mentioned this but they r very kind and generous To a fault. a very competent leader but they do tend to take on too many responsibilities! i think they maybe stopped doing this when idk one day a scug in the colony saw them pass out from overexerting themself or some shit and then everyone started to pitch in after that. they are very grateful and a little embarazed. also when they lost monk and survivor i think the whole colony stepped up for a while to help while they were grieving (dunno if they were in the colony while losing monk and survivor, maybe losing them was what motivated them to keep pups safe IDK bare with me)) i think theyd be the eldest or second eldest of all the slugcats . they try to be fun with kids and are INCREDIBLY protective, letting no threat get within 100 feet of someone they wish to protect. they have been EVERYWHERE imean fucking everywhere. almost photographic memory, stores so much knowledge in that jineeeeeeourmos brain of theirs. boisterous/charismatic, welcoming, kind, and above all (despite the odds!), very happy with life :) mostly square shapes but theres some circles thrown in. . journey >>> destination. glass half full

love this thang. the spug.

*ok* holy shit i got off track. anyways

artificer: surprisingly, an incredibly small slugcat. just over the average juvenile size (a little bit bigger than survivor, and smaller than pretty much everyone else.) incredibly thin. before losing their pups, they were significantly healthier and just generally happier. i think they always had their xsplodey shit but it was more like a snail, a loud pop of noise used by detonating their explosion fluid stuff to startle predators if that makes sense? but then after losing their pups and doing nothing but KILLING KILLING KILLING KILLING scavengers for cycles upon cycles, they neglected caring for themself - including eating. eventually, they became near spearmaster in size & were able to propel themself into the air with the blasts due to their near-nothing weight. most scugs groom themselves as to not have their short fur become overgrown and tangle, but due to artificer's l;ack of nutrients they probably dont have their fur grow alot (does that correlate? idk if eating -> fur growth BARE WITH ME) BUT. they have it grown just enough to tie spears to their back with it. its matted and tangled and is rock solid when you touch it. OH ALSO before losing their pups, they had light brown fur! but then it stained permanently with scavenger blood :) atleast in my hc haha. ALSO their scar isnt just over their eye it covers about half of the left side of their body, renderng them entirely blind and deaf in their left eye and ear. partially deaf in their right ear from all the EXPLOSIONS they hear all the time. covered and imeanCOV;ERED in scars, moreso than hunter. unhinged fucking CRAZYYYY other slugcats are scared shitless of them bt they have a soft spot for slugpups so they would hypothetically always try to remain semi-not-deranged when around one But they havnt met any without guardians yet bc i know theyd drop everything and adopt them (or maybe not, in fear of having past events repeat?). square and triangle shapes. journey <<< destination. glass half empty.

rivulet: :) FISH . GUB GUB GBU i think out of all the slugcats i know the least about them BUT i love them all the same :) they r the MOST fun ever to play as! they strongly resemble a seal! their ears r almost nonexistent + they hv very short limbs and loooong whiskers. fat as FUCK (normal slug size) and incredibly fast they dart around like a bullet! actually pretty big, a little bit shorter than spearmaster (who is around saints size and a little shorter than gourman) big round fucking eyes and Surprisingly super quiet? usually just Stares......they radiate such a jittery energy youd think theyd talk alot (if scugs could talk) but no not really :) my cat is drooling on my arm thought id let you guys know . OK back to this ! very helpful and outgoing, a *little* nosy but out of genuine curiosity, always up to the task no matter how daunting. charming in their sillyfunny gooberific way. im sorry i dont have a whole lot here i wish i knew more about them :(( mostly circular shapes with some triangles. journey = destination. glass half full

spearmaster: very tall and VERY thin slugcat. pretty much all of their bodyweight is stored in their tail and you can. imagine how that i;s ! a bit lethargic from prety much having NO nutrients at all.. but to make up for it theyre pretty speedy and flexible as hell, they can bend their bones pretty much to fit into small spaces. also INSANE reflexes. pretty plain everywhere except their tail, you can very much tell they were Created. i think they are a bit irritable, but otherwise peaceful. tends to have tunnel vision when they are tasked with something to do, and are always wiling to help (i think most purposed creatures share this trait) they are pretty smart but have really bad memory i think. ALL triangles. journey < destination. glass is filled with water, what else are they supposed to think?

saint: second tallest (only a LITTLE taller than spearmaster). fluffy, curly, braided-in-some-parts fur. they have a faaaabulous mustache and FAAAABULOUS eye lashes. pretty thin, surviving as a vegan in a snow-covered world is difficult. their tongue works more like a chameleon tongue ithink ifthat makes sense? like they cant control it it just FWIP flashes out and sticks to stuff with barbs on the end. i do not know NEARLY enough about saint to say a single thing about them But ilove them theyre awesome. composed of pretty much all the shapes, maybe some diamonds in there too though. geometrical lookingikd ifthat maekssen8JURDTHJURDTIH. completely neutral on journey/destination and completely neutral on glass half full/empty.

also, . consi;der. ., arti <3< saint. if you know you KNo;W;98JRSEY9J8SH5E

#mel roars #rain world #jus incase

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conchiferrous · 2 years

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Who is your favorite op character to draw?

there are a few... sanji because he's funny lookin, chopper because you can draw him a lot of different ways i think, luffy and giraffe mode kaku because theyre just cute And Also Franky because i just like him, smiles . thank you for asking

[ID: Various doodles of Sanji, giraffe form Kaku, Luffy, Chopper, and Franky. All the Kaku drawings of him in his halfway form are neck up and are just different angles of him looking blankly with different levels of elevation for his neck. Also the chin from his canon design is gone, leaving him a simple square snout. There's 4 different Sanji head shots showing off the big stupid dinner plate eye I like to draw him with. He's slouching in one of them as well. There's a full body of Sanji where he has no arms and his suit, pants, and shoes are all drawn as one black shape. There is a much smaller Sanji in a snow angel position with the same all black except for head and hands look. There are 3 different drawings of Chopper with different designs. The first gives him a long rounded snout with a wide eye and horizontal pupil as well as skinny antlers. The second gives him a more squared head with small eyes and a triangular nose. The third is a full body of him in walk point with huge eyes stretched vertically as he walks timidly. There's a few drawings of Luffy shows off his big eyes and noodley proportions. The first one has him holding up a centipede and smiling and saying yippee! In another he is laying on his stomach, hands under chin, kicking his feet. A third he's just standing there, looking up with big eyes. In another he's sitting down, tongue out, no arms. In the last, he is looking in awe at a png of a burger taller than him, gasping in surprise. There's two head shots of Franky, one is trying to show off how his head is made of triangles. There's a small simple drawing of Franky walking to show the contrast between his noodle legs and giant arms, and one where he's holding a bug eyed Chopper in one hand. /END ID]

#not the best examples i just want you to Understand #asks #luffy

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embrethil · 4 months

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More prompts!

Just in case the first round wasn't enough

001 Beginnings 002 Middles 003 End 004 Insides 005 Outsides 006 Hours 007 Days 008 Weeks 009 Months 010 Years 011 Red 012 Orange 013 Yellow 014 Green 015 Blue 016 Purple 017 Brown 018 Black 019 White 020 Colourless 021 Friends 022 Enemies 023 Lovers 024 Family 025 Strangers 026 Team mates 027 Parents 028 Children 029 Birth 030 Death 031 Sunrise 032 Sunset 033 Too much 034 Not enough 035 sixth sense 036 Smell 037 Sound 038 Touch 039 Taste 040 Sight 041 Shapes 042 Triangle 043 Square 044 Circle 045 Moon 046 Star 047 Heart 048 Diamond 049 Club 050 Spade 051 Water 052 Fire 053 Earth 054 Air 055 Spirit 056 Breakfast 057 Lunch 058 Dinner 059 Food 060 Drink 061 Winter - [here] 062 Spring - [here] 063 Summer 064 Autumn 065 Passing 066 Rain 067 Snow 068 Lightening 069 Thunder 070 Storm 071 Broken 072 Fixed 073 Light 074 Dark 075 Shade 076 Sun 077 Trees 078 Sea 079 Desert 080 Island 081 Mountain 082 Cave 083 Wet 084 Dry 085 Hot 086 Cold 087 Choice 088 He 089 She 090 Home 091 Birthday 092 Christmas 093 Thanksgiving 094 Independence 095 New Year 096 Writer's choice - Party - [here] 097 Writer's choice - 098 Writer's choice - 099 Writer's choice - 100 Writer's choice –

#writing prompt #fic prompt

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lastconcourse · 2 years

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Two Windows

Old mistake rage,

You did your best,

Recall the foyer:

dead grass and mud mixed are the plasma flung by a mowerblade’s lightning,

it sticks onto and clogs up a Window,

above the kitchen sink. At right: The den is a stomach,

1970s blinds, original wallpaper, teak trim, tile

Yellow Lamp Dim Light: Go, step down steps→

moods and thoughts get digested within this den, between

Wallpaper graphic: (grapevines and flowers) which is the stomach lining,

and below the throat, which is the tunnel of attic rafters.

Recall RIGHT (stage left)

One sponge in our mind scrubs a window too hard, breaks the hinge, and shatters the glass

Recall LEFT (stage right)

With microfiber, a glove wipes away the muddy cataract and rubs the glass clean

Recall at RIGHT

broken glass in six muddy triangles

+some small ones, like fuzzy flour-colored ice chips

fall like snow on the den-rug shag

and glue together like magnets

these shardpicks join together as a grid-circle;

and build themselves out to be a new crystalline Sawblade:

Old matter forming a jagged athlete.

A football drops onto the carpet: DUST. The football contains a key, (Key to life in an Egg)

Recall at LEFT

the other unbusted window detaches from its frame, hovers parachute-like over its sill

perfect window, stern,

pushing forward like a palm+floating upright, like an ocean buoy

This living glass self-slices itself to split its square body five-ways

as five glass rulers to rap our mind’s knuckles,

then it folds back up, still and stern like a stop sign,

goes floating slowly, down, diagonal over the

carpet arena where it and the Sawblade will battle,

like plankton snapping for food,

as they fight for a keycard sewn up in a ball.

Confused memories made physical;

two Punchers making violent cognition.

“Did we break the window or not?”

The GlassPalmBuoy dives up, spins like a revolving door, and steers

it goes scratching the air like an empty ballpoint on thin paper

jotting a note with reflected lamp light, while

The Saw shoots into the air, turns at extreme speed, and swipes,

and flings around some white powder, like water off a truck’s tire on a highway, fast

Voices echoe while athletes snap teeth,

“Did we break the window?”

“Try to remember→to rem’tryember→reme’trymber.

Try’mber→to’break→mber→thetothe→irery ‘ndow”

Broad Edge vs Sharp Tooth

They swirl in the dusty air, like forks stirring up a dinner pot;

The GlassPalm dives low, then leaps up to stomp down

with its sheet edge to jam the Saw who dives to snatch the rolling ball,

One side of Glasspalm moves like a hand, it swipes across:

and chops this diving wheel

“I wasn’t shattered.”

Now Acid bloubbles seethe.

Acid blubbles go upward↑flowing, into the Throat Attic:

Nausea is forming from the battle underneath.

Dust. “Did we-

The saw cuts the PanePalm,

a Circle sharply dissects a Square. Diamond Teeth chew out round wounds,

which bleed sleet of square chips of glass, those rain/flip out, to fallout

as Fallout on the shag ground

The window. “? Did…….we…….break…….it”

The buoy shrieks in pain. No numbing cream. Just meek anger,

One yellowed plastic blind drops from its hanger. It tips over, dead

like a toppled guardian killed by a scream.

and Future light infests this past,

Fresh waves start thinking their way back and into the room

“—I am so sorry”

The Saw wins the fight. Our guts vomit up glass.

A dusty set of teeth tear the ball across the room, skin stripped out,

The teeth grip and yank the keycard through the ball fibers,

Saw teeth are now human bone teeth. See?

the key is taken out and slotted into the silver lock&latch

in the backside of the photo of the next day after.

And victorious Sawblade enters Death-Entropy, breaks up, blebs,

500+ sticky specks of its membrane rain down

On a solid mannequin’s shoulders and knees:

Dust binds gluey on this plastic anatomy

molding around/shaping itself onto the body contours, and:

Pause: It dries there. Unpause: Fingers hover: Off:

By five gloves; the dried glass is now pulled off

It’s a glass body molded, pulled, sought after, blown, mooullded, pouullded,

Head and four limbs established, positioned rightside and close

With its former damages medicated, it is released:

“What for? It’s clean”

→ Now we’re in the present, holding our won key,

the card’s barcode up close to our eye

because now the four limbs + head are wings and cockpit+engines.

A wet jet taxis in rain, takes off, flies by rightside and near, close to our eye, past our house, and away.

A mended mind taking flight is like a big laugh from a nearby room

in a gallery being demolished

#free verse #science fiction #writer

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gta-5-online-cheat-codes-rb · 2 years

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gta 5 online cheat codes hack THNA?

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luoboluoboluobo-blog · 2 years

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NM3217 Assignment 1

I have decided to use this image of an air-con remote control as I feel that it has a lot of unnecessary elements which can be further simplified.

I took this image at a hotel in Johor Bahru as I solo-traveled the city. It occured to me that I should be still able to understand the function of this remote control without needing the confusing tags and buttons on it.

For my stage 0 to 1, I removed the confusing background and retained the basic design of the interface of the controller. (Initial design has no snowflake, the reason I added it in my final design of stage 0-4 will be explained later)

From 1 to 2, I have decided to remove the lines and reset button as it does not add on to the meaning. From 2 to 3, I have reduced the usage of colour, and simplified the interface by reducing the number of buttons. I have also tried enlarging the buttons but it looks not-so aesthetically pleasing, hence I ended up only increasing the size of the temperature caption and snow flakes logo.

Moving on to my stage 4, I have further reduced the usage of colour and decreased the amount of buttons. In the end, I was really troubled on what else I can abstract at stage 5, because it was already retaining all the elements of the controller. This was also the main part of my struggle with assignment 1.

(My initial model for stage 5 as below)

I wanted to make it as minimalistic as possible, hence I only retained the degree Celsius sign and took away everything else. I wanted to covey a “cooling” feeling, so I went to search on cool colour palettes.

After I did the initial stage 5 design, I went around to ask a few friends what is this and the answers were very diverse, some said recycle bin, some said that it looks like thermometer, the most absurd answer I received was a portable toilet cubicle.

(Picture from NEA.gov.sg)

I reflected on myself, thinking that it was probably the choice of colour that gave the recycle bin vibes, and that the degree sign was not clear enough to show that it is even a remote control.

But I did find it so cool that colours are able to convey meanings (I got the fascinating idea from the sample work of the fire hydrant). I went around to search for all shades of blue (because I feel that it can best convey the coolness, but it just still looks like recycle bin).

In the end it struck me that the remote control should provide a sense of “work” or “functioning”, I have decided to use the adobe work space grey colour in the end because of the sense of cool + functioning it gives off.

(2nd design of stage 5, accidentally typed 6 here)

In my initial planned design, the snowflake was not there at all, I retained and enlarged the snowflakes logo because I thought that it would be clearer to put it there to convey the idea of “make it cooler”.

It was such a pain to draw the snowflakes using line tools, I eventually figured out how to key in the angles and reflect the snow flakes to make the angles accurate.

I also reduced the length of the remote controller because it is kind of empty at the lower part.

Version 3 but upon further inspection I gave up on the idea of signals because it makes the logo not as square-ish, and hence not as minimalistic. I wanted to incorporate the idea of “adjusting temperature”, which is the main funtion of the remote controller.

I chose to use a pair of round-edged triangles to indicate the UP and DOWN of temperature. This is the last design for my stage 5 before the critique.

After my classmates’ gentle critique, I also incorporated the feedback from my classmate, who commented my initial design to be “too abstracted’ and feels like a NPC controller”. I reflected on their comments and concluded three issues:

1. NPC-feel

Perhaps it was because I made the remote control too short. Hence I tried making it longer in my last design, it looks so much better.

2. adopted the comment on that the “circle button should be retained” as it is indeed an unique feature that only aircon remote controllers have.

3. “the jump from stage 4 to 5 was too big as there was no snowflake before that”

I hence took out the snowflake from the original picture and added it to stage 1-4 so that it does seem like I just abruptly decided to add the snowflake at the last stage.

(added a button)

(my final design, I have made the length of the remote controller longer)

(Final submission)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

List of references:

snowflake reference https://zh.pngtree.com/so/%E9%9B%AA%E8%8A%B1-icon

wanted to take the chance to make the fancy snowflakes but its too fancy that it makes the icon seem complex

colour scheme reference https://www.schemecolor.com/cool-blue-colors.php

wifi signal reference https://www.pngwing.com/en/search?q=wifi+Signal

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lord-of-the-prompts · 2 years

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DESCRIBING THE PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES OF CHARACTERS:

Body

descriptors; ample, athletic, barrel-chested, beefy, blocky, bony, brawny, buff, burly, chubby, chiseled, coltish, curvy, fat, fit, herculean, hulking, lanky, lean, long, long-legged, lush, medium build, muscular, narrow, overweight, plump, pot-bellied, pudgy, round, skeletal, skinny, slender, slim, stocky, strong, stout, strong, taut, toned, wide.

Eyebrows

descriptors; bushy, dark, faint, furry, long, plucked, raised, seductive, shaved, short, sleek, sparse, thin, unruly.

shape; arched, diagonal, peaked, round, s-shaped, straight.

Ears

shape; attached lobe, broad lobe, narrow, pointed, round, square, sticking-out.

Eyes

colour; albino, blue (azure, baby blue, caribbean blue, cobalt, ice blue, light blue, midnight, ocean blue, sky blue, steel blue, storm blue,) brown (amber, dark brown, chestnut, chocolate, ebony, gold, hazel, honey, light brown, mocha, pale gold, sable, sepia, teakwood, topaz, whiskey,) gray (concrete gray, marble, misty gray, raincloud, satin gray, smoky, sterling, sugar gray), green (aquamarine, emerald, evergreen, forest green, jade green, leaf green, olive, moss green, sea green, teal, vale).

descriptors; bedroom, bright, cat-like, dull, glittering, red-rimmed, sharp, small, squinty, sunken, sparkling, teary.

positioning/shape; almond, close-set, cross, deep-set, downturned, heavy-lidded, hooded, monolid, round, slanted, upturned, wide-set.

Face

descriptors; angular, cat-like, hallow, sculpted, sharp, wolfish.

shape; chubby, diamond, heart-shaped, long, narrow, oblong, oval, rectangle, round, square, thin, triangle.

Facial Hair

beard; chin curtain, classic, circle, ducktail, dutch, french fork, garibaldi, goatee, hipster, neckbeard, old dutch, spade, stubble, verdi, winter.

clean-shaven

moustache; anchor, brush, english, fu manchu, handlebar, hooked, horseshoe, imperial, lampshade, mistletoe, pencil, toothbrush, walrus.

sideburns; chin strap, mutton chops.

Hair

colour; blonde (ash blonde, golden blonde, beige, honey, platinum blonde, reddish blonde, strawberry-blonde, sunflower blonde,) brown (amber, butterscotch, caramel, champagne, cool brown, golden brown, chocolate, cinnamon, mahogany,) red (apricot, auburn, copper, ginger, titain-haired,), black (expresso, inky-black, jet black, raven, soft black) grey (charcoal gray, salt-and-pepper, silver, steel gray,), white (bleached, snow-white).

descriptors; bedhead, dull, dry, fine, full, layered, limp, messy, neat, oily, shaggy, shinny, slick, smooth, spiky, tangled, thick, thin, thinning, tousled, wispy, wild, windblown.

length; ankle length, bald, buzzed, collar length, ear length, floor length, hip length, mid-back length, neck length, shaved, shoulder length, waist length.

type; beach waves, bushy, curly, frizzy, natural, permed, puffy, ringlets, spiral, straight, thick, thin, wavy.

Hands; calloused, clammy, delicate, elegant, large, plump, rough, small, smooth, square, sturdy, strong.

Fingernails; acrylic, bitten, chipped, curved, claw-like, dirty, fake, grimy, long, manicured, painted, peeling, pointed, ragged, short, uneven.

Fingers; arthritic, cold, elegant, fat, greasy, knobby, slender, stubby.

Lips/Mouth

colour (lipstick); brown (caramel, coffee, nude, nutmeg,) pink (deep rose, fuchsia, magenta, pale peach, raspberry, rose, ) purple (black cherry, plum, violet, wine,) red (deep red, ruby.)

descriptors; chapped, cracked, dry, full, glossy, lush, narrow, pierced, scabby, small, soft, split, swollen, thin, uneven, wide, wrinkled.

shape; bottom-heavy, bow-turned, cupid’s bow, downturned, oval, pouty, rosebud, sharp, top-heavy.

Nose

descriptors; broad, broken, crooked, dainty, droopy, hooked, long, narrow, pointed, raised, round, short, strong, stubby, thin, turned-up, wide.

shape; button, flared, grecian, hawk, roman.

Skin

descriptors; blemished, bruised, chalky, clear, dewy, dimpled, dirty, dry, flaky, flawless, freckled, glowing, hairy, itchy, lined, oily, pimply, rashy, rough, sagging, satiny, scarred, scratched, smooth, splotchy, spotted, tattooed, uneven, wrinkly.

complexion; black, bronzed, brown, dark, fair, ivory, light, medium, olive, pale, peach, porcelain, rosy, tan, white.

#writing prompt #writing ideas #writing tips #creative writing #writers of tumblr #writers block #writing things #writers #writing advice #characteristics #character description

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scone-lover · 4 years

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Sour Cherry Scones

True to my name, today I’m sharing my tested-and-true recipe for incredible sour cherry scones! ❤️

THEY ARE SOOOO GOOD.

I’ve been thinking about these scones since reading Carry On, specifically the line: “I just can't pass up the scones if they're there. They're soft and light and a little bit salty. Sometimes I dream about them.”

Me too, Simon, me too.

I use my own small-batch scone dough base recipe, which was originally adapted from the blog dessertfortwo. I also drew some inspiration from the recipe from fiction food cafe. I haven’t made @cookingmywaythroughcarryon‘s recipe but I’m hoping to try it soon!

These are quite different from all of those, and I’ve tested them about 4 times now (and not just because I want to eat them again... and again.) Fiction Food mentioned they might be round in canon, and while I prefer triangle scones, I cut these round with a mason jar lid and they turned out really nice—very English-teatime looking.

Tips:

butter: I actually don’t like to use frozen butter. It tends to result in a crumblier texture than I would like. These scones are flaky on the outside and dense inside. I don’t use a pastry cutter or food processor—I cut cold butter into cubes, then rub/smush it into the flour with my hands. I’ve found that results in the best texture.

cherries: I did a lot of research on sour cherries (this post from The Kitchn) and used dried Montmorency cherries from Trader Joe’s. A friend recommended soaking them in liquid (water, OJ, rum) to plump them, which I haven’t tried but might do next! The dried cherries worked great for the texture. Although fresh would be ideal, obviously, I would be careful with the amount of liquid they add during cooking, which can lead to a soggy scone.

baking powder: My first two batches fell flat because my baking powder was expired! You can easily check this by adding some to hot water and seeing if it fizzes.

salt: The amount of salt in this depends on what kind of salt you have on hand. I used pink Himalayan and ½ tsp was the perfect amount so you could taste it and have that salty/sweet combo. If you’re using kosher salt, ½ tsp should also be fine. If you have sea salt I’d reduce to about ¼ tsp. You can use table salt in a pinch (I prefer not to bake with it) and I’m guessing that would be ¼ tsp as well.

egg: I think dessertfortwo uses just an egg yolk in order to maintain proper liquid proportions for the small batch recipe. However, I found that using just an egg yolk also reduces fluffiness, which is ideal—we want a scone, not a muffin. An unexpected perk is that it contributes to that beautiful golden colour!

Notes:

The photos in this post are mostly from the best-tasting batch I made with the recipe posted here. However, they spread out a little in the oven because my baking powder was expired. The paler scones were made with an experimental recipe which turned out far worse, but I used non-expired baking powder (lol) so I’m putting them here for a height reference.

Recipe is below, and scroll/click “keep reading” below that for a step by step with photos!

SOUR CHERRY SCONES

Makes: 6 scones

Ingredients

1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour

¼ cup sugar

¼ to ½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon vanilla extract

1 teaspoon baking powder

4 tablespoons salted butter, cold

⅓ cup cold heavy cream, plus extra for brushing

1 egg yolk

¼ cup dried sour/tart cherries

Directions

Preheat the oven to 400ºF (205ºC).

In a bowl, stir together the flour, sugar, salt, baking soda, and baking powder.

Cut the butter into squares and add it to the flour mixture. Work the butter into the flour mixture using a pastry cutter, forks or knives, or your hands. It should be evenly distributed in pieces the size of peas.

Add the sour cherries and mix. (You can also do this after adding the wet ingredients for a better sense of how many cherries you want.)

Whisk together the egg yolk and heavy cream in a separate bowl. Pour it into the dry ingredients and incorporate using a spatula.

Place the dough on a lightly floured surface and shape it into a circle about an inch thick. Using a cookie cutter or anything round (I used the top of a mason jar), cut the scone into circle shapes.

Place the scones on a baking sheet (optional lined with parchment paper). Brush the top of each piece with heavy cream.

Bake for 13-15 minutes, until the scones are golden brown on the edges and a toothpick comes out clean.

Enjoy with butter or cream, tea, and a book :) (Preferably Carry On)

STEP BY STEP PHOTOS

Mix the dry ingredients together in a large bowl.

Cut the cold butter into squares and add it to the flour mixture. Use your hands (or a pastry cutter or utensils) to distribute the butter until the chunks are pea-sized.

Combine the heavy cream, egg yolk, and vanilla extract, then add it to the flour/butter mixture.

Stir until it forms a shaggy dough. Add the sour cherries if you haven’t already.

Flip the dough onto a floured surface and push it together with your hands until it forms a ball. Pat/roll it into a circle about one inch thick.

Use a circular cutter or whatever you have on hand, cut out the scones. Do not twist the cutter -- the ragged edges are part of what helps them rise.

Place the scones on a baking sheet either greased, lined with parchment paper, or a silpat mat.

(Can you tell which photos I edited for my blog, lol)

Brush the tops of the scones with heavy cream. DO NOT SKIP THIS - it’s heavenly and gives them a wonderful crunch on the top. Much better than egg wash. It’s seriously decadent.

Bake the scones at 400ºF (205ºC) for 13-15 minutes or until the edges are golden brown.

Make a scone-butter sandwich and pretend that you’re Simon Snow.

Enjoy, my loves ❤️

#sour cherry scones #simon snow #simon snow scone #simon snowscone #watford sour cherry scones #cook pritchard would be proud #scones #scone recipe #recipes #baking #quarantine baking #but seriously I could eat a thousand of these #I am connecting with simon snow on a spiritual level #it's incredible truly #they are SO good

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linguistpeaches · 5 years

Text

here's some random mandarin vocab i have in my notes for when i learn a new word

三角形 (sān jiǎo xíng) - triangle

方形 (fāng xíng) - square

圆形 (yuán xíng) - circle; round

形 (xíng) - shape/form

春天 ( chūn tiān) - spring

夏天 (xià tiān) - summer

秋天 (qīu tiān) - fall

冬天 (dōng tiān) - winter

阴 (yīn) - cloudy

雪 (xuě) - snow

雨 (yǔ) - rain

晴 (qíng) - sunny

周 (zhōu) - to be thoughtful/attentive

初恋 (chūliàn) - first love

世界 (shìjiè) - world, universe

开心 (kāixīn) - to be happy

忙 (máng) - busy

给 (gěi) - to give

夜空 (yèkōng) - night sky

晴朗 (qínglǎng) - sunny and cloudless

月食 (yuèshí) - lunar eclipse

猜 (cāi) - to guess/suspect

抱歉 (bàoqiàn) - to be sorry/apologetic

经常 (jīngcháng) - daily, often/regularly

从小 (cóngxiǎo) - from childhood

有趣 (yǒuqù) - fascinating/amusing

教授 (jiàoshòu) - professor, teach/instruct

了解 (liǎojiě) - understand/realize

考虑 (kǎolǜ) - think over/consider

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animatewarriorcats · 5 years

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Do you have any tips for making animation-friendly designs? My designs are intentionally accurate to real-life cats, and I love them, but I know they would be super tedious to animate, or even use in a comic! How do you make such simple designs that are still so amazing and beautiful?

Well, it just takes practice and iterations I think! Mostly. But I have a few tips that I fall back on frequently I could share so Here’s my quick hot take on making animation designs:

Simplicity is your friend. I had a professor that used a term “simplexity” to describe the balance needed in order to make a character unique and easily recognizable, but also not hell to render out in a full animation. This is going to mean different things for different productions, for example something on the scale of Disney can have a character like John silver with a multi faceted robot arm whereas if we’re trying to do something low budget (*COUGHforfreeCOUGH*) you’re going to want to minimize the headache people have when drawing your character by leaning into the simple side of this term, so that they don’t want to murder you and will still be your friend after the project is over. (more under the cut!)

So what does this mean exactly? You’ll want to keep the line mileage to a minimum. For cats, this means limit the amount of detail and rendering you give the fur in your linework. I’ve seen Artists who break this rule magnificiently (like Raevi goddaMN GIRL) but for a design it is much easier on artists to streamline down to core body shapes and key character Accents in the fur (like tail shapes, cheek floofs ect). This can be pretty diverse, but I’d minimize it as much as possible (if possible down to three accents, more on this later).

For examples, On lionblazes design (line art only at this point) his Character traits are his tail shape, Mane, and Scribbly eyebrows, all aspects that mean more strokes are being taken and work done, but that are easily recognizable between frames, and artists. I also have brought up Dovewing’s design because it’s more complex in it’s line art, but I could simplify it down even more to just her butt shoulder and ear floofs and still recognize her character silhouette. In fact, paring it down even further would strengthen her recognizability.

The amount of strokes you have people draw in cleanup will drastically change the amount of time it takes to render a character. Between Firestar and Bramblepaw in this shot Bramble easily took twice as long to line (or more!) thanks to his beautiful luscious curls.

Next! Principle I use in simplexity is the rule of three. For whatever reason, the number three is your best friend. It’s not as weirdly symmetrical as two or four, and maintains a unique organic-ness to it without getting carried away by five or seven. Now what am I even talking about? Pretty much everything. This is the secret of markings. This is the secret of character accents. This is the secret of color picking. The Rule of three is your best friend.

Take Brambleclaw for example. I gave him three stripes/markings on his face, and three on his side. It feels nice and natural and organic, without being overwhelming. I also gave him three specific fur accents in his line art, his ear tips/eyebrows, Belly floof, and shoulder puff. I used the rule of three in picking his colors, three main pelt colors, and three accent colors (eyes are always gonna be more complex if desired, people love rendering the shit out of eyes) and even so, three colors for the eyes. I used his lightest pelt color in only three places, and his Pink color in only three places, and his darkest color in only three places (eyebrows, Tail tip, and if I had thought to write it down, his paw pads). Even his forehead marking has three parts to it. You do it enough and it becomes really natural and subconscious. Of course, like all rules, you can still break it if you need to, but It has been one of my best friends.

Alright last thing to think about for now, (see what I did there? There are more things, but it helps people remember better to learn Three at a Time), are Shapes. Specifically using Simple identifiable shapes when constructing the body or face of your character. This is going to sound similar to the line mileage point, because they are related, but they are different. This is focusing on the macro details of a silhouette whereas Accents are about Micro details. This point also has the added benefit of helping characters look and feel related to each other if you use it potently!

Let’s take Hawkfrost and Mothwing for example. Specifically their faces. Hawk I designed first, and I wanted him to feel dangerous, and maybe a little twisted. So I decided to integrate a lot of triangles into his design because, a triangle’s shape language reads as dangerous. They’re pointy, and sharp, like teeth claws, and knives. We can’t in good conscious put an especially triangular object next to a baby because it inherently feels dangerous. They’ll poke their eye out with that tall prism. Other shapes have their meanings as well, Rectangles (cubes) are sturdy, and circular objects are the opposite of triangles, they’re the shape of eggs, fluffy pillowy things, and babies. They’re inherently safe, and soft.

Pull back from digression. Look at hawkfrost and his triangles. They have sharp claw like tips, which are emphasized even with a noticeable downward curving to their points. This motif is repeated multiple times, in his cheeks, his ears, his eyes, his chin, his nose. This becomes unifying, and inherently feels dangerous and curved, or twisted.

Now look at moth. She has triangles too, but I deliberately went through the effort to make them rounder, softer, inverting the angles of her eyes to feel sad and not cruel. Yet she remains similar in enough ways that she feels related. Her nose curves in a similar downward manner, her ears retain the out down curve without the dangerous point to them. The fur accents of her cheeks add to the roundness, making her feel softer while sharing hawks cheekwings.

Let’s take another example, Bluestar and Snowfur. They are proof that similarities do not have to be reserved to face shapes alone to give that strong feeling of relatedness. In some ways I think theirs is the strongest sibling bond I’ve read in the books, and that obviously translated to how I designed them haha! The idea behind their design was ‘curvy sturdy’ which is reflected in their circular based hourglass figures emphasizing Bluestar’s ‘broad shoulders’. I tried to make their heads more of a squashed circular shape, to give it more sturdy strength while feeling soft and maternal. Her ears are very rounded at the tips, and the particular downward turn is easy to identify and reflect in both cats. Lastly, their square “pants” because let’s be honest, both these she cats wore the pants in their families. There are also enough differences that in pure silhouette you would still be able to tell Snowfurs bushy tail apart from Bluestar’s thinning fur, and snows’ cheekfluffs from blues wide round jaws.

Of course I am not perfect at all of these elements, and there are even more things I could say that make designs unique and easily animatable while also identifiable. If you are looking for more or different suggestions, I liked Tenielle Flowers’ Video she released on the subject: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lO-kNlyHn8A .

And good luck!

#shadedfantasy #Tips n tricks #Tutorials #art advice #advice

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ambssssssssss · 4 years

Text

The Swan-Mills Family Discovers Kingdom Hearts

Part 1 of ?

I don't go here but anyway

One day, after the last curse is broken by True Love's Kiss shared between Emma and Regina, the two of them are at the Mills household with a tumbler of apple cider split between them debating on letting Snow plan them a huge extravagant wedding or just sneaking off to the courthouse one day, when Henry comes home. He's absolutely buzzing with excitement as he walks straight into the den and turns on his PS4 (he's probably more than a little spoiled by now, which annoys Regina to no end but he's still her little prince so she actually doesn't mind all that much) without so much as a hello to his mothers.

Emma and Regina follow him and blink curiously as the opening credits for a game they don't recognize begins to play. The style is a little outdated but it looks like the animation had been updated recently based on Emma's very limited video game knowledge. Curious, Regina picks up the case the game came in and turns it over in her hands.

"Kingdom Hearts?" She reads the title aloud, her inflection morphing as the words change into a question. Henry hums.

"I know everyone is pretty tired of the fairytale thing but I couldn't resist getting this. It looked like so much fun."

"I don't really think we can get tired of fairytales considering the fact that we're living one," Emma says, but her curiosity is peaked and she seats herself on the arm of the couch next to Regina. "But this game is about fairytales?"

"Kinda. It's hard to explain Ma," Henry eyes don't leave the screen as he sets the brightness, difficulty level, and controller vibration intensity. "But there's a ton of save slots if you want to play too."

"We'll just watch for now kid," Emma tells him , absently rubbing Regina's back with one hand. Henry nods and presses the button to start the game.

The family of three all find themselves almost immediately engrossed in the story of the game. The beginning is a little slow, though the choices and questions are interesting. Henry had accepted the staff and given up the sword, leaving the shield alone. The Heartless, the enemies Henry had to defeat, were actually pretty cute. At least, they were until an enormous, shadowy figure of the main character, Sora, appeared. Henry made a few comments on how the fighting style would improve as Sora gained more skills but Regina was more interested in the surface the character stood on. Each one depicted a different princess and Regina wondered what they might symbolize.

Another round of questions and Henry was told that his journey began at dawn and then the game finally, truly began. As Henry directs Sora to explore the place called Destiny Islands, Emma repositions herself so she's sitting on the couch cushion instead of on the arm. Regina settles against Emma's side with her legs tucked underneath her and her head against Emma's shoulder as they continue to watch. Henry, seated on the other end of the couch closer to the television, is leaving forward with the controller in his hands. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he races against Riku, for the 7th time, and loses again. Emma has to hold in a chuckle as Henry groans and begins the race again. Regina is relaxed in her arms and if not for the way she had maneuvered their hands together and was absently playing with Emma's fingers, Emma would have thought she had dozed off. Henry let out a little cheer as he finally beat Riku in the race and the family watched the next cutscene with interest. There seemed to be quite the mystery to solve, people in strange robes, and even the makings of a love triangle between Sora, Riku, and Kairi.

By the time Emma remembered that they were supposed to meet up with her parents for dinner like they did every Tuesday, Henry had already beaten the huge shadow figure for a second time, gotten a weapon called the Keyblade, and was wondering around a world called Twilight Town after a long cutscene that revealed more familiar Disney characters in the game. Thankfully, these were characters that Emma was certain were just fictional. She had no idea what she would do if she ever met a real Donald Duck or Goofy.

"Time's up, kid. We've gotta meet you're grandparents for dinner." Emma called when Henry found a save point and he groaned good naturedly but complied. After donning shoes and jackets, the Swan-Mills family made their way to Granny's diner chatting about the game.

"I think we should restrict this to a non-school night game," Regina commented as they stepped through the door to Granny's. Charming and Snow had already claimed a table for the whole family so they made their way over. "Clearly it is easy to lose track of time playing this."

That was an understatement. Regina and Emma hadn't noticed the hours passing, three of them to be exact, and they were only watching Henry play.

"What's this?" Snow asked curiously after pulling each of then into a hug one by one. Charming did the same for Emma and Regina but traded a fist bump with Henry instead as Emma greeted her baby brother.

"A new game Henry is playing," Regina answered as they all took their seats again.

Henry launched into a startlingly in depth run down of how the game came into existence, its reputation of having a hopelessly convoluted storyline, several branch off games that were not necessary to play but would fill in a lot of gaps outside the two main games, and the much anticipated release of the third game in the main franchise, Kingdom Hearts III.

"Sounds interesting," Charming said after Henry finished his long winded explanation and began to devour his food. Regina was glad that the explanation was over if only so Henry could eat his food while it was still somewhat warm. "And it's about fairytale characters?"

"Sort of. The game was developed by Square Enix but they collaborated with Disney for this. Most of the characters are either from Disney or another video game series called Final Fantasy."

Snow asked about the plot of the game but Henry shrugged his shoulders. In it's most basic form, the game was simply about light versus dark, good versus evil. Henry didn't know how much this game would delve into the shades of grey between good and evil but he was eager to find out.

"You'll have to let us know how the game goes," Snow said after they finished their meal and were walking out. Henrt nodded enthusiastically as he gave his grandmother a parting hug.

"I thinks its gonna be awesome," Henry said as he pulled away. Then he looked over his shoulder at his moms and smiled his most charming smile. "Even if nothing can be as great as your story."

Emma chuckled. "Nice try kid, but you're not getting extra game time tonight."

"As soon as we get home its homework, shower, then bed. You have school tomorrow," Regina completed, taking Emma's hand in her own as they walked out.

Charming laughed as Henry shrugged his shoulders, "Worth a shot."

The Swan-Mills family walked back to Mifflin street and Henry, as instructed, grabbed his bookbag and went up to his room to complete his homework for the night as his moms retreated to the study to finish the cider they had started earlier.

"He's right you know," Emma commented sometime later from her spot on the couch in the study. Regina, sitting at her desk and reviewing a few documents she would need for a meeting the next day, looked up curiously.

"What are you talking about darling?"

"Henry," Emma rose from the couch and made her way to Regina's side as she spoke. "He was right about us. No story will ever be better than ours."

"He was sucking up so we would let him play more video games," Regina rolled her eyes but still put the papers she was reviewing down in favor of pushing away from the desk and pulling Emma down into her lap.

"Doesn't mean he was wrong," Emma placed her arms around Regina's shoulders, one hand tangling in long, dark hair as the other caressed Regina's cheek.

"I suppose so," Regina tilted her head back slightly to look Emma in the eyes. "As long as our story has a happy ending, I think it will be the best one ever told."

"Our story has the happiest ending of all because it's not an ending. It's a beginning. The beginning of us."

Emma leaned down and kissed Regina then, slowly and surely and with the confidence that she'd get to do so every day for the rest of her life. As Regina poofed them up to their bedroom in a cloud of light purple magic, videogames could not have been further from Emma's mind.

#swan queen #swan mills family #fanfic #look this got out of hand quickly #quarantine has me reading sq fanfic #and playing kingdom hearts #and well now here we are #also i haven't watched ouat since like mid season 4 so #might be a bit ooc #i don't care #part 2 coming maybe tomorrow #that's a lot of tags #long post

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sambuckyevents-inactive · 4 years

Text

Weekly Round Up 20

—–

Title: just feel; let’s exist Author: francehonestly Square Filled: Domestic Avengers Rating: Teen + Warnings: Angst; suicidal implications; Swearing From The Narrator; Sam Wilson Needs a Hug Summary:

“Where are you, Sam?” Bucky whispered, dragging his hand on Sam’s back, rubbing careful circles to ease the tension in his man’s muscles.

Sam shuddered at the touch, murmuring, “I don’t know,”

Bucky tries to keep Sam grounded for the night.

Link to Ao3.

—–

Title: Henrietta: Welcome to the Barnes-yard Author: flamingo-queen-writes Square Filled: Cock Cage Rating: Gen Warnings: Author turned prompt it SFW story. Summary:

Sam stares at the chicken. The chicken stares back. An egg rolls out of the cabinet and falls into Sam’s coffee with a hot splash.

And then Sam’s cursing and scrambling for a towel, the chicken is making some unholy screeching noise and flapping its wings angrily, and Bucky’s drifting in from the other room all nonchalant like he hasn’t rewritten the rules of how a morning in their home ought to go.

“Oh, you met Henrietta. Good.”

(Or: The one where Bucky abducts rescues a chicken and Sam gets an unwelcome avian house guest.)

Link to Ao3.

—–

Title: The Royal Wedding Author: siancore Square Filled: Green Card Marriage Rating: Mature Warnings: Language; T’Challa x Bucky; Love Triangle; Sambucky Angst and Pining Summary:

When Sam first heard the news, he thought someone was making a joke in bad taste. He thought it was some kind of nightmare that was brought on by his loneliness and heartbreak. But it wasn’t. When the invitations arrived for him and the rest of the Avengers, and he saw it written in script on the golden card, he knew it was real. He glanced down at the beautiful invitation once more and felt the tears well in his eyes. He felt sick. He felt weak. His sight was blurry as he read the words once again:

Under the Watchful Eye of Bast

You are Warmly Invited to the Wedding of:

His Royal Highness King T’Challa Udaku of Wakanda

and

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

Link to Ao3.

—–

Title: Coffee Shop Setup Author: helplessly-nonstop Square Filled: Coffee Shop AU Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

The door to the café swung open and Sam glanced up to see one of his regulars walk inside. He turned away from Steve, his coworker, and smiled at the tired college student approaching the bar, chiming, “Morning, Bucky. The usual?”

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: Flames Author: siancore Square Filled: Bonfire Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: None.

Link to Ao3.

—–

Title: No Named Author: justficsandstuff Square Filled: Hitman Falls In Love With Target Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: Like This For A While Author: enchanted-lightning-aes Square Filled: Domestic Rating: Teen + Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

Just for one day, Sam would like to lie down with Bucky, letting the hours pass by until he had to leave.

A tale of one of Sam and Bucky's domestic mornings.

Link to Ao3.

—–

Title: Rescue Spooning 101 Author: flamingo-queen-writes Square Filled: Heat Wave Rating: Teen + Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

They end up walking nearly an hour through the snow and ice without anything but the red blinking light to let them know they’re still going in the right direction, and Sam’s just about fed up with this mission when the ice thickness gauge on his reader goes from “plenty sturdy, you could even build a house on this” to “ice, what ice?” in the space of a single in-drawn breath. Then his stomach lurches like he’s missed the last step on the stairs, and everything goes cold and dark and wet.

(Or: Sam and Bucky are on a mission in the arctic, when Sam falls through the ice. How ever will Bucky warm him up? Hint: Unknown to Sam, Bucky is a selkie who specializes in the ancient art of skin-to-skin “rescue spooning.”)

Link to Ao3.

—–

#sbbingo1 #Sambucky #Winterfalcon #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Captain America #The Falcon #The Winter Soldier #The White Wolf #Weekly Round Up #Weekly Round Up 20 #Week 20

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ukdamo · 5 years

Text

KZ Sachsenhausen

One of mine...

KZ Sachsenhausen ; there and then, here and now

In the summer of 1936 the posters on the underground in Berlin declaimed to every traveller, “Escape the big smoke. Come and enjoy the forests and lakes of Oranienburg". A forty-five minute train journey from S-Bahn Friedrichstrasse (1), in the heart of the city, brought sun seekers into the pleasant countryside to the north.

And why not? The dappled forest paths and clear lakes offered welcome relief from the thronged streets of the capital, streets filled with thousands of visitors who had come for the Olympiad being held in the new stadium, built to the west of the city.

People from all over the world had flown in to Flughafen Tempelhof, the airport whose buildings were a stone testament to the vitality of the l000 Year Reich. From there, visitors jostled along Swastika-hung streets to view the city sights: the Brandenburg Gate, the treasures of the Pergamon Museum, Schloss Charlottenburg; to climb to the top of the Siegessäule (2) not yet moved, on Hitler's order, from its home in front of the Reichstag; to stroll down the Unter den Linden - although the crowds were no longer shaded by its eponymous trees since they had been felled so as not to obscure the vista of Nazi (3) parades.

Few visitors, admiring the State Opera house, recalled the newsreels of 1933 which showed this building lit by the flickering light of a great bonfire - a bonfire of burning books heaped on the adjacent square.

Impressionable tourists lunched in the Café Schottenham, by the Anhalter Bahnhof (4), and then walked admiringly past the Bauhaus designed Europahaus en route to the splendid new Air Ministry building. Only a few years earlier the sightseers might have taken their coffee and cake in the Hotel Prinz Albrecht but this was now the HQ of Reichsfűhrer SS (5), Heinrich Himmler.

With every pavement, café and square teeming with tourists it was no wonder Berliners escaped to the relative calm of Oranienburg, to take a boat out on the lake, or to walk through the woods.

There were some city-dwellers, however, who travelled there under duress and for a more sinister purpose. To prevent the possibility of any embarrassing incidents in Berlin during the period of the Games, to disguise its anti-Semitism, and to forestall any negative publicity, some of the measures taken against the Jews by the regime were suspended.

Behind this façade (quietly, unobtrusively, diligently), the Gestapo (6) intensified its labours rounding up the enemies of the Reich - Communists, Social Democrats, trade unionists, liberals, Christians, Jews, Sinti and Romany peoples, pacifists,

Jehovah' s Witnesses, homosexuals, those designated 'anti-socials' or criminals - and took them to the purpose built camp on the outskirts of Oranienburg. It was known as KZ Sachsenhausen. (7)

On a wintry day in February l996, I followed in their footsteps.

---------------

I was part way through my week in the city when I made my ‘pilgrimage’. After breakfasting, showering, and dressing in my most colourful clothes and dangliest earring,

I picked up the remembrance (8), quitted my Berlin lodgings and set out for Oranienburg. The journey that had brought me to this time and place had begun years before in quite another location. As a younger man, studying Modern History at the University of Liverpool, I had focussed my enthusiasm on nineteenth and twentieth century European history: Berlin was a pivotal place in the scheme of things. My perspective, particularly on twentieth century German history, was informed by the lived experience of being a gay man. There and then reached a spectral hand into the here and now.

The cold February sky was downcast; grey, lowering. pedestrians turned up their coat collars to insulate themselves and hastened to their destinations. Sometimes I drew startled looks - my appearance being somewhat conspicuous - opposing the bleakness of the morning as it did. It was the fluttering ribbons which attracted most interest though.

(Like the compelling image of the red coat in the film "Schindler's List"?)

The train journey to Oranienburg was a journey in time as much as through a landscape. The train trundled across the city, heading northwards. Tenements gave way to light-industrial enterprises, these, in their turn, to detached houses with steeply-raked roofs. The houses thinned out and were separated by fields, wooded areas, little ponds and watercourses. As we clanked onwards, the landscape became more open. I could see now that the ground was waterlogged; crusty, muddy and frosted with snow. Even the larger lakes were frozen. Denuded trees pointed bony fingers to the sky. Somehow I had drifted into the winter of l944/45. The train reached its terminus and we few passengers reluctantly turned out of the warm carriages to brave the wind-scoured platform.

Almost immediately, a gentle dusting of snow began to fall. (I am surprised to find that 1 feel glad it is snowing. It seems appropriate). I am possessed by the unshakeable conviction that no-one should visit at a pretty time of year. It would be sacrilegious.

There is a mixture of buildings in the town, old and new, the streets are cobbled not asphalted. It requires no effort of imagination to see columns marching along this road. Straggly columns, sore-footed, threadbare.

Oranienburg is a smallish town, similar to my own home town in NE Lancashire. There is some road traffic thudding over the cobbles; Trabbies and Wartburgs as well as VWs and Opels. Some kids look at me with unrestrained interest, older people with more reserve. Some of them even have a reproachful aspect.This is no longer Berlin, where people of unusual aspect arouse little notice and less comment. This is not even Manchester, where gays can be visible with a modicum of safety. This is the familiar, narrow, inhospitable ‘small-town’ Bronski Beat sang about with such eloquence.

I recognise it from my own lived experience.

I become conscious of many thoughts; "This building would have been there then"

"What must it be like to live here now, with such a legacy?"

"What do these little kids make of it?"

Practical considerations imposed themselves and I looked for a signpost. There was one. How sobering, how chilling, to see it written. No longer a name from the past but a place here and now: Gedenkstätte Sachsenhausen (9).

Following the directions indicated, I walked towards the camp. As I neared it, the monument became visible above the rooftops. It stands uncompromisingly - a concrete grey monolith with pinkish triangles on the upper section. You could easily imagine that it was physically holding up the clouded sky, like Atlas.

At the corner of the Strasse der Nationen (10), which leads to the entrance, there is a small display board that remembers those who were killed on the 'Death March'. In the spring of l945, when it became obvious that all was lost, the authorities decided to march the camp inmates to the Baltic, intending to put them on ships and sink them.

Six thousand died before the column was liberated - they were shot, beaten to death, or killed by cold and exhaustion. It was a sombre marker for what lay ahead.

Before going into the camp proper visitors walk through an entrance gate and along a wooded way that leads past the information centre. Through the trees to the left (sparse, wintry and naked) glimpses of the perimeter wall can be had. I went in to the office and collected an English guide map. The room was dominated by a big, green-tiled stove that radiated masses of heat. It made the cold outside seem that much more intense.

"What must it be like to work in such a place?" I wondered,

"Do you grow used to the horror of it all? Can you afford to forget?" I quitted the building and felt very alone. There was just me, the remembrance, and the reality of Sachsenhausen. There and then, here and now. I feel strongly that Sachsenhausen is not history: history has no life in it. Sachsenhausen can never be mere history as long as there is someone who knows, who remembers, who lives in the light of that remembrance.

The first place that presents itself to the visitor is a modern exhibition centre (1961) which houses photographs, archive material, and an allegorical stained glass memorial window. The building dates from the original opening of the camp as a centre for national remembrance, in what was then the GDR (11). It focuses on the wartime history of Sachsenhausen. It stands in what was the SS barrack area, just in front of the gatehouse. Inside, I noted the brief descriptions of the photos in English. Many needed no explanation: the horrors were all-to-evident. Among the most harrowing were the pictures of those murdered on the march to the Baltic.

Corpses were scattered along the route - in fields, in ditches, in the woods, by the roadside - killed by a single pistol shot to the head. From under makeshift coverings (which those who found the bodies had used to try and afford them the dignity denied them by their tormentors) poked emaciated limbs, bruised and disfigured faces, unshod feet. Other photographs detailed those who were left behind, the three thousand in the 'hospital', found when the Russians entered the camp on April 22nd 1945.

On that April day, some few miles to the south, Hitler was in the bunker beneath the Reich Chancellery. He had celebrated his last birthday two days previously. The sounds of the strife above ground were muffled and did not disturb the delusions of ultimate victory he cherished. In the cold reality of day, Flughafen Tempelhof was about to fall to the advancing Russians.

Within a week Hitler would be dead.

Some of the prisoners in Sachsenhausen made slow recoveries and joined the sea of 'Displaced Persons' trying to get home in post-war Europe. For others, death's grip was too tight for liberation to make a difference.

Leaving the photograph collection, I turned toward the entrance to the camp proper and walked through. Arbeit Macht Frei (l2) said the mocking inscription on the gate. By the end of 1944, over 204,000 people had read that sentence as they passed under the lintel and in to the Appellplatz (13). Once inside, more than 100,000 of them were systematically put to death. Others met death in camps they were transferred to. It would be invidious to try to describe the sufferings endured by camp inmates in a purely statistical way; in any case, the destruction of records means that an accurate total can never be known. The information in Sachsenhausen suggests that some 30,000 gay men were sent to the camps under the Nazis. Estimates vary. A figure of 60,000 or more may not be unduly high. Perhaps as many as 2/3rds of these men did not survive.

Standing there, 1 felt as if I had ought to remove my boots and go barefoot. A stupid idea but an almost overpowering feeling. I gazed across the open courtyard, at the monument towering beyond, and was filled with unutterable sadness.

The camp is laid out like a gigantic triangle, with the gatehouse in the centre of the baseline. Emotionally, I felt this to be an obscene joke. Apparently, it was simply the result of Nazi thoroughness and the exigencies of security - a shorter perimeter, fewer watchtowers, fewer unobserved corners, better sightlines. All so easily calculated.

The courtyard presented a large semicircle - the placement of the first row of huts being indicated by a latticed wall. Behind me, to my left and right was the neutral zone (actually a killing field); a wire boundary marker, a few yards of bare earth, then an electric fence. Finally, and almost superfluously, there was the perimeter wall with its barbed wire crown. To step over the marker invited being shot without warning. Photographic evidence shows that some prisoners chose this. Still others crossed the death strip and embraced the electrified wire.

I looked down at the map in my hand. It was difficult to use it nimbly because of the cutting wind and my chilled muscles. My eyes were watering, too, but I could not blame the wind for that. The ribbons on the remembrance fluttered; the only colour in the landscape.

Immediately in front of me was a great concrete roller that weighed three metric tonnes. The Häftlinge (14) were forced to run pulling this and were beaten if they moved too slowly. A semicircle just in front of the first row of huts was identified as the Schuhprűfstrecke (15), Here, in a broad arc, were nine sections - each of a different surface - gravel, flint, broken stone, sand etc… Prisoners had to walk over these for ten hours each day (about 25 miles, carrying 35lb in weight) to test the durability of shoe/boot soles. I looked down. The frost-frozen ground cracked beneath my own booted feet and I sank into the mush. Scattered snowflakes flitted by. A few rooks called, screechingly.

A party of British teenagers came in through the gatehouse. They were chatty, boisterous, as kids are. But their voices grated on my ears even more than the shrill rooks. Some places in the world must only ever be silent places. Not because noise is a bad thing.

No, Act Up is right when it says that Silence = Death. But in Sachsenhausen the silence is needful. It is what makes it permissible to be noisy elsewhere. If the potent and clamorous silence of that place is ever trodden underfoot, then the laughter, songs, protests, whistles and dancing that enliven and affirm us wherever we are will be themselves in danger of being silenced forever.

There are those who wish it so.

In September of 1992, a number of individuals broke into the camp and burned down two of the huts (known as the Jewish Barracks). It is thought that this act was a deliberate desecration of the memorial and was an indication of the resurgence of xenophobia and anti-Semitism in the recently re-unified Germany. In Berlin itself, on Oranienburger Strasse, stands the recently restored Neue Synagoge (16). It is guarded by three armed policemen and is protected by stringent security measures. Inside is an exhibition that focuses on the history of the Jewish people in Berlin, even so, it acknowledges that racism and prejudice have deep roots are widely prevalent.

Closer to home, there is a latent racism abroad on the streets of my own town. The National Front has contested, and continues to be active, in local elections. Dispersed asylum seekers meet with thinly veiled hostility. In 1994 an NF candidate was successfully elected in local council elections on the Isle of Dogs, London. Jewish cemeteries are regularly vandalized. Violence directed at lesbians and gay men, is, sadly, an unremarkable occurrence.

My train of thought had been interrupted by the noise of the school kids, so I allowed them to go their own way and then turned my attention back to the map. Over to the right was a temporary exhibition that told the story of the Jewish Barracks and their inmates. The future of these two barrack blocks (38 and 39), destroyed in the arson attack, remains to be decided.

Further on was the special detention camp set up for prominent political, and other, prisoners. A number of the cells are still there. Prisoners were often held in solitary confinement for long periods, tortured, denied food and drink, kept in darkened cells for months or even longer. Martin Niemőller (17) was a prisoner here. To walk along and look into the tiny cells (some with memorials inside) was a humbling experience. It was not hard to imagine the clang of steel doors, the turn of keys, the sounds of brutal interrogation echoing down the narrow corridor.

What was the date again?

At the far end, the building opened on to an exercise yard, separated from the rest of the camp by a high wall. I stepped out again into the bleak, dismal light. To the left was the Erdbunker (18), a burial cell or pit where prisoners were virtually entombed, exposed to bitter cold and oozing wet walls with only a small, steel barred hatch above.

What would you see from inside? A cross hatched patch of blue? A slate grey torrent?

On the February day I was there, the ground was waterlogged. I could hear the drip of icy melt water as it fell into that dark maw. A great puddle surrounded the hatch, frozen on top, squelchy underneath.

Just beyond the bunker, on the wall, was the memorial plaque that I had come to see; journey’s end for the beribboned remembrance, journey’s beginning for my living remembrance. The plaque is a stark in its simplicity: a black rectangle with the letters punched out by stencil, exposing the wall behind. On the ground below, a few tiles, and, scattered on them, a few carnations. Had they once been pink? The wording of the memorial was as stark in its simplicity as the plaque itself. How else could it be? How can you dress it up in fine language?

TOTGESHLAGEN

TOTGESCHWIEGEN

DEN

HOMOSEXUELLEN

OPFERN

DES

NATIONALSOZIALISMUS

Taking hold of the remembrance, I drove the pole in to the ground as far as it would go and then banked up the mushed, sandy, ice-filled soil around it to hold it steady. Not caring whether I was observed or not, I knelt down in the waterlogged yard,

sank back onto my haunches and waited quietly for about the length of time it takes a man to walk a mile slowly. Everything was hushed. The ribbons flapped and the poem waved about as the wind caught it. For a moment or two, there was a dancing rainbow

When the time was right, I stood up to continue my journey. (I returned to the remembrance before I finally left the camp, the hard frost meant that the banked earth at the base of the pole was already beginning to freeze. Almost as if to ward off the chill, the freedom ribbons fluttered gaily. This optimism made the leave-taking that much easier).

I moved on item the exercise yard to the exhibition mounted in the former prisoners’ kitchen. The route took me past the sites of the gallows where prisoners deemed to have committed offences were hung,. Other grisly punishments were also meted out here during roll call "pour encourager les autres". Away to the right, by the perimeter wall stood a monument to those who died in the camp during the period 1945-50. For Sachsenhausen's infamy did not end with the war's end. The Soviets operated the site, under the name of ‘Special Camp No. 7’, and imprisoned former members of the Nazi Party, members of the SS, and the Wehrmacht (20), as well as prisoners of war released by the Western Allies, and others. Later on, inmates included people who were victims of denunciations, people who were arbitrarily arrested, growing numbers of Social Democrats, Christian Democrats and Liberals, opponents of the Soviet occupying power, and of the emerging East German Communist regime. It is estimated that 20,000 people died as a result of the conditions in the camp..

The sights that met the eye once inside the former cook-house were stinging. Further calculated horrors, to which the prisoners were subject, were held up for unwelcome yet necessary inspection.. There were artefacts from the wartime history of the camp – Zyklon B canisters (21). Human hair, gathered for use as war materiel. Fillings from teeth.

Striped uniforms, with their triangles of various colours (22). Plates and cutlery, stamped with prisoners’ numbers. The ‘height measurer’ from Station Z (23). This building was a place I wanted to run through quickly and escape from. Instead, I walked slowly and deliberately through it all, step by step, case by case, from one information board to the next. It was like the Stations of the Cross. Is it realistic to hope for a Resurrection? ‘Can there be lyric poetry after the Holocaust?’ someone asked.

Can there be?

I do not feel able to answer that question. But I can witness to this: the even in Sachsenhausen it proved impossible to crush the creativity and aspirations of the human spirit. Prisoners crafted necessarily small but beautiful things from the most basic materials and contraband. They made chess sets, inlaid cigarette cases, even a crude radio receiver. Furthermore, there is at least one recorded instance of resistance, carried out by the ‘Jewish 18’. In the autumn of 1942, in protest at their inhuman treatment, eighteen Jews staged a protest in the Appellplatz. Their act of resistance, though brutally suppressed, did result in some amelioration of camp conditions for the Jewish inmates. It did not save the 18 from Auschwitz-Birkenau.

When I had reached the end of the exhibition I paused for a long time by the visitors’ book because had to frame carefully what I wanted to write there. What response can on make to such horrors?

"Whereof one cannot speak, thereof must one remain silent", noted Wittgenstein in his philosophical investigation of language. He must have been thinking of the situations that test the boundaries of human experience when he formulated that precept. And here was I in such an extremity. Just how do you write down a howl of anguish in the soul?

When I left the block I saw the great monument towering before me. I went up close and looked at its huge bronze figures and its concrete vastness. The scale was so big as to be scarcely human. In a way, this is perversely fitting since the dreadful events to which it testifies are equally vast in scope and inhuman in character. The sculpted group of figures at the base of the tower is entitled "Liberation". (A secular version of Resurrection?)

Feeling tiny, I turned and walked the short distance to the site of Station Z.

If Dante's Inferno is taken as a metaphor for Sachsenhausen, then Station Z may be thought of as the deepest and most damned region of that place. Perhaps it is fitting that this was the last place I visited and the place where I most nearly lost what measure of self-control was left to me.

The area is shielded from the elements by a canopy. The suffering and the loss are recalled in an affecting monument; bronze figures two adults with a dead child. More affecting still are the remains of the building that stood on this spot. It was built in l942 and was staffed by the SS. Here thousands upon thousands were gassed, or shot. Their bodies were profaned (treated as the source of raw materials for the war effort) then burned. Any remains were crammed into a subterranean bunker close by.

Given what preceded death, this can be no real surprise. Often, camp inmates were used as a slave work force for various SS-run enterprises. Prisoners from Sachsenhausen were compelled to build the canteen and recreational facilities, used by the Gestapo and SS, on the Prinz Albrecht Terrain (24). In the 'hospital' prisoners were used in experiments to test drugs, chemical weapons, and 'treatments'.

The foundations only remain.

No access is allowed: visitors look through a wire fence on to the features that rising up from the earth. Clearly discernible are the rooms that comprised the gas-chamber (disguised as a shower room) the ante-room where prisoners stripped before going in to the 'shower', and the ramp where the dead, having been thrown on to carts, were pulled the few yards to the crematorium.

Also evident were rooms used for interrogations and a killing room made to appear like a clinic. Prisoners were stood against a height measurer attached to a wall. (A wooden finger that ran between two slats, marked off in centimetres). Unknown to the inmate, there was a hidden room behind the wall. Once the wooden finger was upon his or her head, someone in that room would shoot them in the back of the neck. Bodies were dragged across the floor and through a door that opened on to the crematorium.

All so convenient, so duplicitous, shielded from the eyes of the other inmates.

But there could be no secrecy; the smoke, the smell, the miasma, the point of no return.

It must have been evident for miles.

The wind whipped up again. Steam rising from the boiler house in the old laundry block caught my eye and was transformed into the smoke from this charnel house. It was suddenly 1944 again. The camp was filled beyond capacity with the enemies of the Reich, 90% of them non-German. There were representative groups from virtually all of Nazi occupied Europe.

Russian prisoners were being systematically exterminated. Food was scarce, warm clothes scarcer still. Prisoners were beaten, worked to death, tortured, subject to crazed experiments.

The rooks sent up a cacophony of cries that brought me to myself again. Here I was, in 1996, looking& back at what had been. Statistics in Sachsenhausen indicate that there were more than 2000 concentration camps, sub-camps and detention centres in Germany alone.

I blinked back tears as I looked through the fence and reconstructed these terrors in my mind's eye. Walking round the site, moving clockwise past the sculpture in the near left hand corner, I caught site of a feature that I did not immediately recognise and so moved closer. Suddenly, even through eyes misted over, it became all-to-evident.

The few courses of bricks, the metal doors and the flues, resolved themselves into ovens. There were four in a row. I was absolutely stricken. My legs buckled and I let out an involuntary cry as I stumbled and reached out for the wire to support myself.

From then on, I was in a daze. I tottered across the frozen earth and picked my way gingerly down the trench that led down to the bunker where the bones had been dumped. Signs on the sides of the wooden ramparts indicated where prisoners of war had been shot. Others who met their death at this entrance to Hades included those sent to Sachsenhausen by Reichssicherheitshauptampt of the SS and the Gestapo (25).

Most sickening was the mechanised gibbet, worked by a winch and pulley, which allowed four people to be hung at one time, with the minimum expenditure of effort or manpower. It was what 1 had come to expect of the Nazis during the course of my visit. That I was no longer shocked by such atrocity was a shock in itself. I stared out of the pit at the vast grey sky, punctured only by the concrete finger of the monument. The sky was heavy under the weight of its own sorrow.

The closing scene from the film Judgment at Nurembergcame to mind. An American (small town) judge visits his leading Nazi counterpart whom he has just sentenced for war crimes. The German judge offers, as mitigating explanation, that he thought the Nazis could be controlled and used, that he never imagined it would come to this. His counterpart dismisses this very cogently and simply: "It came to this the first time you sentenced a person to death whom you knew to be innocent."

If Sachsenhausen indelibly imprinted one idea in me, it is this: that every step down the road which begins with disrespect for another person ends at KZ Sachsenhausen. All the sentences which begin, "I'm not …………… (insert your own favourite prejudice)…… but ......" conclude, ultimately, with the sharp report of a pistol shot, or the creak of rope, or the bolts sliding home on the door to the 'shower'.

Many of the entries in the visitors' book say, "This must not be allowed to happen again". My feeling is that it has never stopped happening. I believe that it may prove truly fatal to think of there and then and exclude here and now. I am convinced that the celebration of life and difference, the promotion of human flourishing, is dependent upon us being ever vigilant, and ever respectful of the dignity of others.

My visit to Berlin showed ample evidence that a significant number of people share this perspective. In the wake of the arson attack on the 'Jewish Barracks' at Sachsenhausen, there was a spontaneous gathering at the memorial to express concern and regret. Subsequently, a demonstration was held which focussed on the theme 'reflecting in Germany - together against xenophobia and anti-Semitism'. 7000 people attended.

When the Berlin city authorities were considering what uses the Prinz Albrecht Terrain might be put to, concerned citizens and organisations took an active interest and even direct action, including a symbolic 'dig' on May 5th., 1985. The discovery of the foundations of the buildings associated with the site, particularly the cells used by the Gestapo, and those parts built by the slave workers from Sachsenhausen, together with the insistent pressure brought to bear by those who saw the necessity of an explicit recognition of the role that the site played during the period of the Third Reich, resulted in the opening of an exhibition pavilion and associated memorials which currently comprise the site. The motto of the groups coordinating the May 5th dig seems very appropriate: "LET NO GRASS GROW OVER IT!"

The city is notable for the number of memorials and plaques that detail the location of many buildings, and chronicle many events, which some would rather forget. Berlin's insistence on facing up to the past and continuing to confront it in the present struck me very forcefully. Less formal but no less striking is the graffiti that can be seen in the city. Particularly in the workers residential areas, like Prenzlauer Berg, graffiti appears to be regarded as necessary.

Graffiti ist kein Verbrechen!

Lesben Pauer

Nazis vertreiben, Auslanderinnen bleiben

This is a Nazi house

Much graffiti was focussed on current concerns – Kurdish refugees, the confrontation between Neo~Nazis and their Anarchist and Anti-Fascist opponents. Some was witty and creative but most was political in its inspiration. Amongst my favourites was the pointed reminder: "Wer bunker baut, wirft bomben" (27).

Comparing this situation to that nearer to home gives cause for unease. I do not feel that we recognise the dangers of forgetfulness, or apathy. Remember Pastor Niemöller's lament?

Muted public concern permits our government to play fast and loose with human rights - witness the attempt to expel the Saudi dissident, Mohammed al Mas'ari, to protect lucrative arms deals with the Saudi government. Consider how the Criminal Justice Act is used against travelling people and against those who wish to undertake direct and legitimate protests.

Examine closely those churches who claim to esteem the unique dignity of the human person in absolute terms yet couch their teaching and pastoral documents in such a way that the human dignity of some is completely abrogated. This may be noted particularly when the churches address themselves to women’s issues, lesbian and gay issues, or issues of race and ethnic origin. There is no comfort to be had in looking at the wider situation - the former Yugoslavia, Iraq, Chechnya, or Rwanda.

I wish I were able to claim for lesbians and gay men some innate virtue that renders us impervious to the propaganda of racism and sexism, but I can't. Though we may identify more strongly than some with the women, children and men who were butchered there and then in places like Sachsenhausen, and though we might feel their suffering acutely and recoil in genuine horror, still that does not confer an automatic immunity to the hateful thinking patterns that produced the concentration camps.

If it is true that lesbians and gay men (among others) have a 'privileged' access to the experience of the Häftlinge, then we have a particular responsibility to be vigilant. The danger we face because of that propaganda and its attendant terrors may be more subtle and understated in Britain than it is overseas but it is no less invidious. We must be vigilant not simply to prevent the virulent return of those values that consigned us to the camps (the fear of being inmates in the here and now) but also to prevent us from being seduced by the simplistic slogans and false promises that would make us accomplices in their institution. Without such vigilance we face the awful an almost unimaginable possibility of being deceived into acting as the new guards.

The lesson that Pastor Niemöller learned (too late?) was that if it could be you, it could be me, and if it were me, then it could be any of us. For that reason the same thing is demanded of each of us:

Vigilance and respect; there and then, here and now

Notes

(1) S-Bahn Friedrichstrasse:

Berlin is served by a variety of train and tram routes. S-Bahn refers to the Schnellbahn - the overland train network, Friedrichstrasse to the station in the centre of the city.

(2) Siegessäule:

Victory Column, built to commemorate the military victory over the French which led to the founding of the Second Reich in 1871.

(3) Nazi:

NSDAP Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei. The National Socialist German Worker's Party. Elected to power in 1933, the party began to usurp the power of the state, supplanting the rule of law and government by the fiat of the party and the instruments of terror it wielded. Within a few months Hitler had stifled all opposition and abandoned any pretence of democratic rule.

(4) Anhalter Bahnhof:

This was one the chief railway termini for Berlin. Severely damaged in wartime bombing, there now remains only a portion of the facade.

(5) Reichsfűhrer SS:

Himmler’s official title, ‘Reich leader of the SS’. The SS (Schűtzstaffel) was the Protection Squad of the Nazi Party.

(6) Gestapo:

Geheime Staatspolizei, the secret state police.

(7) KZ Sachsenhausen:

Konzentrationslager, concentration camp. In the earlier years of Nazi Germany the camps were sometimes referred to as Schutzhäftlager, protective custody camps.

(8) Remembrance:

This had its origin in two distinct items which seemed to belong together as a 'token' that could be taken to Sachsenhausen and left at the memorial there. The remembrance consisted of 6 freedom ribbons, in the rainbow colours, attached to a pole. These ribbons had been part of a larger banner that had been carried on the Lesbian and Gay Pride March (London) in the summer of 1994. Together with the ribbons was a poem (see below).

The Colour of Forget-Me-Nots

rose pink

carnation pink

perky pink

panther

champagne pink

in the pink

lily the pink

lipstick

blushing pink

candy floss pink

baby pink

bootees

marshmallow pink

bubblegum pink

fuchsia pink

Triangle

(9) Gedenkstätte Sachsenhausen:

Many of the former camps have been designated as places of national remembrance and reflection. Sachsenhausen is the one closest to Berlin.

(10) Strasse der Nationen:

Street of the nations

(11) GDP:

German Democratic Republic more commonly referred to as East Germany .

Now, of course, no longer in existence since the reunification of Germany.

(12) Arbeit Macht Frei:

The motto which was found at the entrance to the concentration camps. Work shall

set you free.

(13) Appellplatz:

The place where inmates were assembled for roll-calls, punishments etc…

(14) Häftlinge:

Prisoners of the camp.

(15) Schuhprűfstrecke:

The shoe-testing ground.

(16) Neue Synagoge:

The 'New Synagogue’, completed in 1866. One of two dozen synagogues vandalised and set alight on Kristallnacht (the night of broken glass), November 9th., 1938. Following this pogrom 12,000 Berlin Jews were brought to Sachsenhausen.

(17) Martin Niemöller:

Pastor Niemöller, U-Boat commander in WWI and a one-time supporter of the

Nazis, came to reject Fascism and was incarcerated in Sachsenhausen.

He is, perhaps, best remembered for the following verse –

First they came for the Jews

And I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Communists

And I did not speak out because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists

And I did not speak out - because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for me

And there was no-one left to speak out for me.

(18) Erdbunker:

Literally, ‘earth bunker’.

(19) Totgeshlagen…:

A literal translation is difficult. The inscription may be read as –

BEATEN TO DEATH

SILENCED TO DEATH

THE

HOMOSEXUAL

VICTIMS

NAZISM

(20) Wehrmacht:

The German Army.

(21) Zyklon B:

The cyanide gas pellets used in the gas chambers.

(22) Triangles:

Prisoners in the camps were made to wear triangles of different colours. The

respective colours indicated the reason for their incarceration, eg. green = criminal,

red = political offender, black = anti-social, pink = homosexual.

(23) Station Z:

The mass extermination facility, built by the SS in 1942, and run by the

Totenkopfstandarte SS (Death’s Head battalions of the SS). Here, thousands

upon thousands were systematically butchered.

(24) Prinz Albrecht Terrain:

An area of central Berlin that housed the offices and HQ of the Nazi state terror

apparatus eg. the Gestapo, the SS. Bounded by (what is now) the Wilhelmstrasse,

Niederkirchnerstrasse, Stresemannstrasse, and Anhalterstrasse.

(25) Reishsicherheitshauptamt:

An approximate translation would be Head Office of Reich Security.

(26) Graffiti:

Colloquial translations might be –

Graffiti is no crime!

Lesbian Power!

Deport the Nazis, let the immigrant women stay

(27) Wer Bunker…:

Whoever builds bunkers, drops bombs

#holocaust #holocaust memorial day #remembrance #sachsenhausen #concentration camp #gay #homosexuality #persecution #nazism #nazi #berlin #damian's writing

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