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hannahssimblr · 4 months

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Chapter Two

It feels cliched, like something from a film about a character working in some business firm, but I’m getting coffee for everyone at Mezzotint, the print studio where I am doing my internship. The studio, located above a little craft shop, opens right out onto a quaint street in Stoneybatter.

It’s up and coming around here, that’s what they call it when they don’t want to admit to its gentrification, and the café that the staff frequents is one of those hipster places where there isn’t any room to sit. The exotic hanging plants in the window form a lush curtain where you can peer inside and see the moustachioed barista at work underneath a wall of interesting looking coffee paraphernalia.

This café is so close to the Luas line that you can hear the ding ding and swish of the tram as it passes every two minutes or so; Tallaght to The Point, Saggart to Connolly Station, over and over and over again. Each day is accompanied by the music of the city. It seeps in through the windows of this café and of our little studio across the road from it in a way that makes me feel like this little street in North Dublin, and I by extension, are woven inextricably into the fabric of the city.

Everyone likes to pretend that September is the autumn, and even though the leaves are a little bit rusty and the waters a little choppier, the temperature is still warm enough to walk around without a coat in the afternoons. This is something seasonless that can’t decide what it wants to be yet, caught between one moment and the next. A warm breeze licks across my arms as I cross over to Mezzotint with five complicated coffee orders and a paper bag of pastries, pausing to let a woman with flowers in the basket of her bicycle pass me by.

I pass through the shop first, where Petra is placing a new batch of little ceramic bud vases on a shelf, and I give her her mocha and pan au chocolat. “I like those.” I tell her, and she nods, subtly rearranging the vases and confesses that she’s already bought one. She spends way too much of the money she earns from working at this shop buying things in it, but I get it. I’d be buying stuff too if they were paying me. I head up the stairs to the studio above.

“Aw, thanks chicken.” Izzy, one of the printmakers, takes a coffee out of the holder marked with the letters FWAL on the top. I have learned it stands for Flat White, Almond Milk. It’s only half nine in the morning, and she’s already stuck into her work, the tips of her fingers blackened like burned matches from the ink. She doesn’t eat anything in the mornings because it makes her feel sick, but she’ll have her slightly softened croissant at eleven, I leave it in the bag for her.

I bring a vanilla soy latte and a maple pecan twist to Gabriel who peers up at me impishly over his small, round glasses. “You look very nice today.” He says, and I grin. “So do you, but you look nice every day.”

“Stop.” He grins coquettishly and lifts the lid off his coffee to sniff it. “This is soy, isn’t it?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Good.” He takes a cautionary sip. “Because I’ll know all about it in about fifteen minutes if it isn’t. You’ll all know about it too.”

“Yeah we definitely will too.” Izzy groans. “Remember that time they gave you whole cows milk?”

“I will never forget.” He says solemnly.

“Yeah, no, me neither.”

I go over to the back of the studio to give Simon his flat white with oat milk. He told me he was vegan within an hour of meeting me, and I told him I’d actually never met a real vegan before, so it was an honour. It was supposed to be funny but if he thought it was he didn’t show it.

He’s sitting hunched over an angled desk with a blade, digging grooves into a block of wood. This is what he does, this old style wood block printing, but it’s always got a contemporary twist to it. Like today, he’s working on a scene in a dark lake, ripples swell behind a woman with long black hair who’s naked, submerged up to her waist and looking up at the full moon.

“Do you like it?” He asks me as I leave his coffee on the table next to him.

“Yeah it’s really cool.”

He leans back to look, and quickly blows some of the loose curls of shaven wood out of the carved areas. “I like it as well, I think. It has something.”

“Who is it?”

“My girlfriend. It’s always my girlfriend. She’s my muse.”

He’s a very particular type of artsy-intense like that, like he doesn’t think it’s weird to call someone your ‘muse’ in a non-ironic way. “Oh right.” I say. I start turning away to head towards a pile of paper and tools in Gabriel’s corner of the studio, the same ones I’ve been trying to organise all week, but he calls me back over to him. “Yeah, Simon?”

“I’m thinking we should get a start on Christmas cards for the shop.”

“But it’s September.”

“Yes but it takes ages to get everything sorted and printed. It’s best we start designing in the autumn.”

“Oh, alright.”

“So…” He sits up and twirls the blade around his fingers in way that makes me nervous for his precious hands. He doesn’t look at me that much, including now. He’s still examining his work. “You’re doing a degree in illustration.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Could you draw up some designs? I don’t have time.”

I start to get flustered. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t really know what kinds of things to do.”

“Well, we don’t usually go for traditional type things in the shop, so if you can think of something that’s Christmassy but also, like, bright and modern and fun, that’d be unreal.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a portfolio?”

“Not really, just sketchbooks.”

“You’ve not done any kind of client work or anything?”

“Only a shop window.” I clear my throat awkwardly, unsure if I even want to admit to the work I did in Tullamore. “I did some window typography for a cafe during the summer.”

“You like typography?”

“Yeah it’s cool.” I shrug. “But I’d say I’m not very good at it.”

Simon’s mouth twitches up into as much of a smile as he appears to be capable of. “Why don’t you give something a lash for me, just see if you can come up with some fun Christmas card ideas that might incorporate interesting lettering. I don’t know.” He hunches back over his work so I know we’re finished discussing this. “Anything you want, Evie. I’m giving you full creative control, as long as it has a vibe.”

Full creative control is as terrifying as a blank page. I give him an almost inaudible “Okay” and go over to an empty table with a stack of paper to start trying to figure something out. What does that mean, anyway? A ‘vibe’? I sigh and start scribbling something down.

I work through the morning and halfway into lunch, only realising it is when I surface from the haze of my creative flow to find everybody else gone. I fish around in my bag for the sad sandwich I prepared that morning and then get right back to work. I like it. I have no idea what I’m doing but I like doing it anyway. Sometimes when I get like this I wish that I didn’t have to eat or sleep or use the bathroom, like, I wish my body was a machine that could keep on drawing infinitely, churning out more and more work without the interruptions of my body’s needs.

Eventually the others come back and the sounds of press cranking and plate carving resume, and I am engrossed in what I’m doing. Gabriel passes behind me at some point and gives a little ‘hm’ of approval. “I like your lettering.” He says. “Thanks.” I say.

I only realise the whole day has passed me by when a soft voice from the corner of the room pipes up. “Pub?” Simon cranes his neck like a submarine periscope and glances around the room at us. Without looking up, Gabriel says “Pub.”

“Pub.” Izzy agrees.

I glance at the clock. It’s five already, and I feel like I’ve only just got into the swing of my card design. It kind of pains me that I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to get stuck back into it again. I haven’t even started thinking about colours yet.

Izzy tosses a balled up piece of scrap paper onto my table. “Hey, Evie.” She says. “Tools down. Pub?”

“Oh.” I say. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. We’re just heading across into Smithfield for a pint or two. Look outside. The sun is absolutely belting down.”

“We won’t get many more evenings like this.” Simon adds. “It’d be a waste not to come.”

“I suppose I’m not doing anything anyway.” I’m never doing anything, ever. “I can come for a while.”

“Unreal.” Izzy says, and I reluctantly relinquish my coloured pencils and then within five minutes the studio is closed down and the lights are off.

“I’ll join you in a while.” Petra says as we lock up the studio door. “I’ll just do the cash register and then pop down.” We tell her that we’ll see her there and head out onto the street.

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#lucky girl part 3

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cmaidaartworkblog · 1 year

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This third series of maps for @jayrockin‘s “Runaway to the Stars” project represent the planet their Bugferret alien species calls home, a cold, seasonless world with much of its water held up in immense ice sheets and extensive cave systems. As such, a great deal of this world’s oceanic crust is exposed to the air, concentrating what little seawater remains at the subduction trenches and other extremely old, low-lying portions of crust.

First, the planet’s plate tectonics, with the plate boundaries defined in white (for divergent boundaries), black (for convergent boundaries), and purple (for transform boundaries) and the directions of drift marked by red arrows, in Equirectangular Projection and Poles-Centered perspective.

The maps below show the planet’s elevation data, first in grayscale with no color gradient applied, in Equirectangular Projection and Poles-Centered perspective;

then with the color gradient applied, also in Equirectangular Projection and Poles-Centered perspective;

and then with the color gradient once again removed but now showing the planet’s liquid water, in Equirectangular Projection only.

The second phase of this commission focused on the planet’s ice sheets and the liquid water hidden beneath it them. First, there’s the raw elevation data for the ice in relation to “sea level” -with no contiguous ocean to define this, it is instead defined as 200 meters above the average continental shelf’s edges, correlating to Earth’s own sea level-, along with a key, in Equirectangular Projection;

then, the same data with a color gradient applied;

and again, this time also showing how many meters of ice sit atop the subglacial bodies of water;

and lastly, the thickness of the ice over land as well as water, first in grayscale;

and then with a color gradient applied.

The thickest point in Earth’s own ice sheets is 4,776 meters deep, just a fraction of the Bugferret planet’s maximum of 18,000 meters between the top of the ice sheet and the trench-sea hidden beneath it.

The map below shows the volcanic activity on this planet. Volcanoes marked in pink have erupted in the past millennium, and those marked in white have erupted in the past 300 years Looking back to the ice-cover map that also shows the subglacial water, you can see how some of those lakes are caused by recent eruptions, as are the few ice-free mountain peaks in the higher latitudes.

Lastly, the third phase of this project mapped out the cave systems, expanded tremendously both by modern Bugferret activity and previous eons of dissolution and upheaval by organisms more comparable to fungi, plants, and burrowing detritivores. The first map below shows all of the major caverns combined into one layer, color-coded by vertical position in relation to the so-called sea level, instead of depth beneath the local surface.

I mapped out these caves in four overlapping layers, here color-coded to represent the tallness of a given chamber. The first of these layers contains those caves closest to the surface;

a bit further beneath the surface;

further down still;

and the lowest layer of all, with its shallowest caves sitting no less than 8,500 meters beneath their local surface.

All the caves shown here can be accessed from the surface, either directly or in connection to other caves, even if the connecting passages are too narrow to be visible at this resolution. Some of these connections can be fully seen or at least suggested in the cross section below, showing the vertical positions of the caverns beneath a mountain range, or a small slice thereof.

This cross section is shown again with a map that marks its location, and that also includes the ice sheets, subglacial and exposed liquid water, and combined caves.

These maps were all created in Photopea. My reddit post dedicated to this project, wherein you can see the highest resolution versions of these images, is linked here.

2022

#runaway to the stars #mapmaking #imaginary maps #worldbuilding #commission #digital painting #photopea #Bugferrets #fictional planets #elevation map #color gradients #ice maps #liquid water map #cave systems #major project #alien planet #Christopher Maida Artwork

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ruknowhere · 1 year

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youtube

The Season of Phantasmal Peace

Then all the nations of birds lifted together

the huge net of the shadows of this earth

in multitudinous dialects, twittering tongues,

stitching and crossing it. They lifted up

the shadows of long pines down trackless slopes,

the shadows of glass-faced towers down evening streets,

the shadow of a frail plant on a city sill—

the net rising soundless as night, the birds' cries soundless, until

there was no longer dusk, or season, decline, or weather,

only this passage of phantasmal light

that not the narrowest shadow dared to sever.

And men could not see, looking up, what the wild geese drew,

what the ospreys trailed behind them in silvery ropes

that flashed in the icy sunlight; they could not hear

battalions of starlings waging peaceful cries,

bearing the net higher, covering this world

like the vines of an orchard, or a mother drawing

the trembling gauze over the trembling eyes

of a child fluttering to sleep;

it was the light

that you will see at evening on the side of a hill

in yellow October, and no one hearing knew

what change had brought into the raven's cawing,

the killdeer's screech, the ember-circling chough

such an immense, soundless, and high concern

for the fields and cities where the birds belong,

except it was their seasonal passing, Love,

made seasonless, or, from the high privilege of their birth,

something brighter than pity for the wingless ones

below them who shared dark holes in windows and in houses,

and higher they lifted the net with soundless voices

above all change, betrayals of falling suns,

and this season lasted one moment, like the pause

between dusk and darkness, between fury and peace,

but, for such as our earth is now, it lasted long.

Derek Walcott, "The Season of Phantasmal Peace" from Collected Poems: 1948-1984

#Youtube

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lilacsandfireflies · 2 years

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The Season of Phantasmal Peace By Derek Walcott

Then all the nations of birds lifted together the huge net of the shadows of this earth in multitudinous dialects, twittering tongues, stitching and crossing it. They lifted up the shadows of long pines down trackless slopes, the shadows of glass-faced towers down evening streets, the shadow of a frail plant on a city sill— the net rising soundless as night, the birds' cries soundless, until there was no longer dusk, or season, decline, or weather, only this passage of phantasmal light that not the narrowest shadow dared to sever. And men could not see, looking up, what the wild geese drew, what the ospreys trailed behind them in silvery ropes that flashed in the icy sunlight; they could not hear battalions of starlings waging peaceful cries, bearing the net higher, covering this world like the vines of an orchard, or a mother drawing the trembling gauze over the trembling eyes of a child fluttering to sleep; it was the light that you will see at evening on the side of a hill in yellow October, and no one hearing knew what change had brought into the raven's cawing, the killdeer's screech, the ember-circling chough such an immense, soundless, and high concern for the fields and cities where the birds belong, except it was their seasonal passing, Love, made seasonless, or, from the high privilege of their birth, something brighter than pity for the wingless ones below them who shared dark holes in windows and in houses, and higher they lifted the net with soundless voices above all change, betrayals of falling suns, and this season lasted one moment, like the pause between dusk and darkness, between fury and peace, but, for such as our earth is now, it lasted long.

#poetry #derek walcott #autumn #bird #animal

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ssaalexblake · 4 years

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The use of ‘Darkness’ by Lord Byron is absolutely Fascinating to me in the context of how they chose to implement it in the show? A beautiful and picturesque poetry reading, it was Bright.

Meanwhile, the fam are returning into the tardis about to go off to war with the cybermen, and they chose fade into the shot of 13, both scenes were briefly interlaced

So you can literally see the visual gradient of colour, we go from the beautiful bright sunlight of the poetry reading, to 13 in the Tardis.

This is Not the darkest we’ve seen it lit in season 12, at times of great misery for 13 even the pillars have been lit in blue as opposed to the orange they normally are, but the you Can’t deny that they were very much emphasizing how much Darker one scene visually was than the last while connecting 13 to the idea of being the universe, aka, the darkness.

The poem itself, to vaguely summarize, is about an apocalypse. It uses darkness as the thing which, ultimately, causes the end of all life on earth. In it, the sun, the moon and stars are all extinguished, and everything on earth is doomed to live life in total darkness. Everything burns, because the only light left is that from flames, people begin to go mad because they know they are all going to die of starvation, they slaughter things around them to gorge themselves while they still can but, eventually, everything starves and dies. There are no plants, no animals, no people, nothing left to burn for light. No clouds, no tides, everything is gone.

The only thing that remains Is the Darkness, there is no light to cut through it anymore.

The world was void, The populous and the powerful was a lump, Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless— A lump of death—a chaos of hard clay. The rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still, And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths; Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea, And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd They slept on the abyss without a surge— The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before; The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need Of aid from them—She was the Universe.

Darkness does not need the people, or the tides, or the animals or the plants or kings or the poor, it doesn’t need the clouds or wind. The Darkness is all that is left, and she -Darkness- is now the Universe.

The imagery in the show was very explicit that this ‘she’ in the poem he is reciting is referring to the doctor. The show explicitly linked her as the apocalyptic force, rather than any other thing they could have chosen to associate her with.

In context of the episode, the doctor just saved earth, saved her Family, at the expense of all the humanity’s future. She quite literally bought humanity’s doom this episode, because of her trauma from losing Gallifrey she was not capable of making a choice that could erase the fam from existence, she needs them too much.

She, in effect, bought the darkness to humanity herself, her choices led directly to the total destruction of the human race at the hands of the cybermen when she could have stopped them from ever gaining a foothold in the universe if she was willing to take a risk.

She is the darkness.

It’s more interesting because the darkness is never actually a malevolent force in the poem, it’s merely something people were just unable to ward off or survive.

Humanity, as it turns out, did not survive 13.

I also find it kind of interesting as a motif because 13 this season is depressed and traumatized, and it’s very common in poetry and prose to use darkness allegory to symbolise those states in people, and this explicitly links it to Thirteen. Her depressed state led her to the series of choices that caused the end of the human race, urgo, it led her to be the darkness.

When she breaks out of her depression, symbolised by her breaking out of the matrix, she manages to lift the darkness from humanity by sending back the fam and the last few others to the past, filled still with people. This couldn’t happen, she couldn’t save them, when she still embodied that darkness. She needed to break free first.

So by all standards, by the end of the timeless children she is no longer ‘the universe’ Byron penned her as, which is a Good thing.

#dw shit #everything sucks b/c dw just made me analyse romantics era poetry and i Hate it all after my lit a level #anyway yeah Any time the doctor is linked to some kind of great power it's not good #and her Being the universe??? oooh yikes #the doctor is Just A Traveller #that is where their strength is #and that's where 13 ends #at the end of the episode #tbh there is also some more imagery in the poem i'm interested in in regards to this all but it doesn't fit naturally on this piece So #nvmd for now

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desdemonafictional · 4 years

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Guess WHAT I’m doing hxh fic again, we’ll see if it goes anywhere, but here’s a bit of action/adventure

Gon had left his home island in the eastern sea and arrived on the mainland just in time to catch a ride on a caravan headed west, towards the capital of the Seaside Empire. The last letter his aunt had received from his father was marked with the seal of the Capital, sent almost twelve years before, and attached to a dagger that Mito had presented to Gon, reluctantly, on his birthday.

“So what did the letter say?” Kurapika had asked him, as they sat around the campfire that first night with the caravan.

“Well…” Gon had shrugged with some embarrassment. “It said I should take the dagger for an inheritance and not chase after him, since he’s as good as dead to me now that he left me behind for someone else to raise.”

Kurapika’s eyebrows went up. “And yet here you are, chasing after him.”

Gon wrinkled his nose. “I just don’t think it’s a very good trade! I’m going to find him, and give him the dagger back, and make him show me how to be a treasure hunter like he is. And then it’ll be fair.”

“Suppose he doesn’t want to teach you?” Kurapika asked.

“He will,” Gon said, with perfect confidence. “I’m his son! When he sees how serious I am, he’ll have to do it.”

On Kurapika’s right, Leorio was slumped back against a stump and examining the dagger in question, holding it up against the firelight. “Sure doesn’t seem like anything special,” he remarked. “Maybe it’s just some junk he picked up. Maybe he isn’t even a real treasure hunter.”

“He is!” Gon said. “Everyone says he was an amazing treasure hunter, even before he left! He killed a dragon when he was only fifteen years old! That’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Since that first night, on the coast, their caravan had come many days travel deeper into the mainland. The passed through the swamplands, through a great rushing river that had carried away a dozen less cautious of their fellow travelers , and was passing now through the Ruined Lands, a wilderness spotted at every turn with the wreckage of some ancient stone empire.

About a day’s journey into the Ruined Lands, the poplars and willows and birds gave way to a standing stone circle straight in the middle of their path.

“At this point,” the head of the caravan—a seasoned merchant from the north—announced to the group at large, “we’ll have to go around! It’s bad luck to travel through the circle, and the road ahead is rife with all kinds of danger. They say a dragon lives inside one of the burial mounds that way, and the last thing we want is to be noticed by a dragon.”

There was a ragged shout of boos from the crowd. With their many pack animals and unwieldy wooden cartwheels, none of the travelers relished the idea of lugging their possessions through the narrow foot trails and underbrush of the forest. While they were embroiled in argument with the head of the caravan, Gon and his friends hung back from the mess and surveyed the hill with the standing circle with some interest.

“I suppose the road must lead through it for a reason,” Kurapika said, considering the deeply worn ruts in the turf at his foot. “Maybe there was originally a pilgrimage that ran this way.”

“Pretty impressive it’s still standing,” Leorio said. “But I’m more interested in those burial mounds he mentioned. I wonder if they’ve already been looted, or if there’s still any treasure left in there.”

“Did you miss the part where he mentioned a dragon?” Kurapika asked dryly. “Or can’t you hear anything past the sound of cash registers?”

While Leorio scoffed, Gon scaled the side of a vardo wagon. From its curved wooden roof, he was able to see past the circle and into the countryside ahead, where the heather gave way to woods again.

There was sudden shouting and banging from the other side of the wagon, and Gon slid across the roof just in time to see a trio of travelers shove the caravan head down onto the turf.

“Listen here,” one of them said, while the other two bore down on the more experienced traveler, “we’ve got an appointment to make in the capital, and we’re not about to lose a day mucking around in the shrubs with all these donkeys and chicken coops. You’re gonna take us through the straightway, and you’re gonna do it now.”

Gon climbed to his feet. “Hey!” he shouted down. “Leave him alone, he’s just doing his job!”

In a moment, Kurapika and Leorio had rushed around the side of the vardo to see what the fuss was about. Leorio stiffened; Kurapika reached for his batons. Immediately a handful of random travelers reached for their own weapons, short swords and hooks and hammers, and closed ranks around the belligerent trio.

“Everyone, please,” the caravan head said, one elbow planted in the dirt. He lifted the other hand in a plea for peace. “A caravan should never quarrel within itself. We are all we have out here in this wilderness.”

The skinnier one of the trio planted his boot in the man’s back and ground down. “Fine by us, we don’t want a fight. We just wanna get going. You gonna do the smart thing, old man?”

There was a tightness in the air, as Leorio and Kurapika both drew themselves down into a coiled stance, ready to spring. The share of travelers who had sided with the trio, more than a third of the whole group, also tensed.

“Yes,” the headman said, at last, “fine, we will go on with the straightway. If that’s what the group wants, that’s what we’ll do. Let me up.”

The tension remained, as the trio let the headman up and the man brushed himself off. Gon jumped down between Kurapika and Leorio, who were putting away their own weapons with some reluctance.

“That isn’t right,” Gon said. “He’s the most experienced traveler, if he says the road is dangerous, we should be listening to him.”

“I agree,” Kurapika said. “All the same, there’s strength in numbers. I would be hesitant to break off from the caravan, even if I knew the way to the capital perfectly myself.”

“We’re at the mercy of the whole stupid mob of ‘em,” Leorio agreed, his eyes narrowing.

And it was on that grim note that they set off again, amongst the rolling coops and covered wagons, and passed beneath the wide stone lintel of the standing circle.

Kurapika, as he had eventually revealed, was on his way to the capital to become an enforcer; that was to say, a warrant officer, a hound of the empire. Leorio was traveling to find a doctor willing to teach him medicine, and hopefully apprentice himself to the craft. Neither could afford to delay their travel another season, even if the caravan they found themselves attached to was in conflict with their own principles.

In the woods deep beyond the standing circle, beneath the canopy of seasonless beeches, Gon paused mid-step and turned his head north.

“What?” Leorio said, bending down. “You hear something?”

“What could he possibly hear over this racket,” Kurapika murmured, as the coop of squawking chickens rolled along behind him.

Gon shook his head. “I smell…” He frowned. “I smell sweat. And old blood.”

Leorio and Kurapika met each other’s worried gazes at the same time. “Let’s get the headman,” Kurapika said, just as the first arrow flew out of the treeline and embedded itself in the post of the chicken coop.

In the same moment, the three of them grabbed hands and threw themselves through the gap in the train of wagons, taking shelter behind the wall of the next vardo as a hail of arrows punched into the whole north facing side of the wagon train.

“Bandits!” Kurapika shouted, his voice almost lost in the eruption of chaos.

“We need to get out of the open,” Leorio said. The checkered brocade of his carpet bag swung as he gestured to the southern treeline. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”

“The headman,” Gon said, suddenly. “We have to get him.”

“Gon, we don’t have—” Kurapika looked down just soon enough to realize Gon was no longer there, “—time. Oh.”

He looked at Leorio. Leorio let out a sharp breath and then straightened up. “Tell you the truth, I wouldn’t feel right leaving the guy either. He tried to warn us.”

“Yes,” Kurapika said, turning to the front end of the caravan. “Yes, I suppose so.”

The whooping, mounted shapes of bandits were pouring out of the woods—probably not more than a dozen, but in their staggered chaos they had the feeling of being an endless flood to the unprepared travelers. It was pandemonium as Gon and his friends raced to reach the headman; animals in disarray, humans shouting and scrambling for control of them. A mule tore free of his leadline and broke for the southern woods, scattering wax-wrapped packets across the ground as he went.

They found the headman slumped and clutching an arrow embedded in his upper arm, blood blooming through his blue wool sleeve. He looked up as Gon reached him, confusion and pain in a mixture across his features.

“Let us help you, sir,” Gon said, and braced the man so that he could get to his feet again.

“Do you know anything about these bandits?” Kurapika asked. “How they operate?”

“I don’t know this band,” the headman told them, his voice tight. “I don’t know if they kill travelers or leave them alive.”

“Well let’s not stick around to find out,” Leorio said, and tossed his carpetbag against his back.

Kurapika hooked the headman’s uninjured arm over his own shoulder and then they were off, darting across the ditch and over the shoulder of the road. There was a shout from somewhere behind them; a twang, and the dire whistle of fletching passing through air. Kurapika was caught with dread—what could he do but keep going, even with the weight of the headman dragging him down? They had rescued the man, it would be the height of dishonor to abandon him now.

The whistle broke suddenly into a gruesome thock as it hit human flesh, but it was neither Kurapika nor the headman who cried out. Leorio let out a pained grunt, from much closer behind Kurapika than he had been before.

They hit the treeline. Another arrow embedded itself in the trunk of a tree, and then they were safe among the old growth of the forest, beyond the reach of arrows. Kurapika could finally turn his head and see what had become of Leorio.

White faced, grimacing, Leorio was only a few steps behind. At first there was no sign of the arrow, but then it dawned on Kurapika that the shaft of the arrow had passed through the carpetbag over Leorio’s shoulder and buried itself in his shoulder blade.

“Oh,” Kurapika said. “You’re…”

Leorio’s grimace twisted into something echoing a smile. “Don’t sweat it,” he said. “It’s not that deep. Better me than you guys, anyway.”

“Leorio…” Kurapika said.

Gon appeared at his elbow, making a thoughtful circle around his back. “We need to get that loose. Normally it’s better to leave them in, but the shaft is pinning your bag to your back, and you won’t be able to let go of the handle or the weight will snap it.”

“We can’t do it out here,” Leorio retorted. “Who knows if they’ll send someone after us. We need shelter, somewhere defensible.”

Gon tapped his boot a couple times, and then he said, “I’ll scout ahead, I’m faster and uninjured. You guys just keep moving south, and I’ll find you again once I’ve found a place.”

“Very well,” Kurapika said. “Go on ahead. I’m sure with your experience you can find something suitable for all of us.”

“You sure?” Leorio said. “That just leaves the two of us.”

Kurapika smiled at him, just past the bend of the headman’s elbow. “I think we’ll do just fine together.”

Leorio went red. Kurapika started moving forward again, leaving him where he stood.

#leopika #Hunter X Hunter

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artdaily7 · 4 years

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The Season of Phantasmal Peace by Derek Walcott

And men could not see, looking up, what the wild geese drew, what the ospreys trailed behind them in silvery ropes that flashed in the icy sunlight; they could not hear battalions of starlings waging peaceful cries, bearing the net higher, covering this world like the vines of an orchard, or a mother drawing the trembling gauze over the trembling eyes of a child fluttering to sleep; it was the light that you will see at evening on the side of a hill in yellow October, and no one hearing knew what change had brought into the raven's cawing, the killdeer's screech, the ember-circling chough such an immense, soundless, and high concern for the fields and cities where the birds belong, except it was their seasonal passing, Love, made seasonless, or, from the high privilege of their birth, something brighter than pity for the wingless ones below them who shared dark holes in windows and in houses, and higher they lifted the net with soundless voices above all change, betrayals of falling suns, and this season lasted one moment, like the pause between dusk and darkness, between fury and peace, but, for such as our earth is now, it lasted long.

Paul Gauguin 1893 The Moon and the Earth, oil on canvas, Museum of Modern Arts, NY

#The Season of Phantasmal Peace #Derek Walcott #Walcott #Paul Gauguin #Gauguin #The Moon and the Earth #Art #Poetry #Fine Arts #Poems #Painting #Modern Arts #Then all the nations of birds lifted together the huge net of the shadows of this earth

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devonpravesh · 4 years

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charity gala.

pairing: grayson betournay x bisexual!reader

summary: grayson has to help the reader with a patient, but the patient is homophobic towards her so grayson defends her.

warning: none/cussing. angsty/fluff

“Dr. (Y/L/N)! Dr. Bell send me down here to ask you some questions.” Grayson, Dr. Bell’s assistant, said as he ran up to me to catch up with me.

I glanced over my shoulder and threw him a sweet smile, “Sure, I’ll have to help this patient first but you could stick around in the meantime.”

He smiled and blushed a little, “Okay.”

“Oh and, Grayson? Please, call me (Y/N),”

He nodded his head and apologized as I chuckled at his cuteness.

I quickly turned around and started walking next to Conrad and Devon, Grayson quickly turning around so he walked close behind us.

“If you two boys would be so sweet to send Ashley’s results to me that’d be lovely, see you two at lunch,” I said and turned around again, Grayson doing the same.

I quickly opened the curtains of the bay my patient was staying at, “So, William if I may?”

“You may not. It’s Mr. Beau to you.” A man in his late sixties spoke.

“Alright, Mr. Beau, I see here that you had a heart transplant last year?”

“That’s right,”

“If you’ll allow me to I woud like to lift up your shirt so I could look at your chest?”

He sighed but did as I asked. As he lifted his shirt I noticed a big rash around the scar.

“Hmm, that’s not unusual, but I’ll have to make an echo of it.” As I put on the cold gel and looked at the images on the screen I noticed something unusual.

“Dr. Feldman, could you come look over something over here?” I quietly spoke as he was not so far from me. He nodded and walked over.

“What is it, (Y/N)?”

“Does this look unusual to you?” He nodded, “We have to page AJ.”

After a few minutes, AJ explained to William that he needed surgery because of the fact that William’s body was reject the donor heart.

“I see your daughter’s and wife’s number on the contact list, should I call them?”

“No! My daugter’s a lesbian, and my ex-wife decided to defend her. I never want to see or hear from them again.” He spoke, sternly.

I cleared my throat, “Well, I think that’s a bad reason to cut off contact with someone.”

“Why would you care?” He face scrunched up in realization and pure disgust, “Oh dear god don’t tell me you’re also a lesbian.”

“I, ahem, am not. I am bisexual though.”

“I request another doctor! Immediately!”

Grayson’s eyes widened in shock as I stood there speechless. After a few seconds of silence, Grayson spoke up, “Dr. (Y/L/N) is a great doctor, no matter what her sexuality is. It cause of people like you that people of a different heritage or different religion or different sexuality have a hard time! You old people only appreciate the sad things in life, like your seasonless food!”

I burst out laughing, “I’m sorry, Mr. Beau, I’ll let the nurses prep you for surgery.” Grayson and I walked up to the nurse, “William Beau, bay 5, extremely homophobic, be careful because he also seems like an extreme racist. But he needs to be prepped for surgery, but if you’re not comfortable with it I could do it myself.” I said to Nurse Hundley.

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m used to over privileged white men.” She said and headed to his bay. I smiled to myself and turned around, now facing Grayson.

“So, those questions, hmm? Can they also be asked in the cafeteria as we drink some coffee?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah, sure,”

I raised my eyebrow but linked our arms as we started walking, “Thank you, Grayson.”

He raised his eyebrow and looked at me, puzzled, “For?”

“For what you said to Mr. Beau.”

“Well he was being an ass.” Grayson said as he fidgeted with his hands.

“Well, as a thank you, let me buy you a coffee? Or do you prefer tea?” I asked.

“Oh, coffee’s fine.”

“Alright,” I said and and let go of his arm before I walked over to the coffeehouse.

“Can I have one coffee with two sugars and a bit of milk and one tea please.” I said sweetly to the cashier.

“Coming right up.” He said as I paid for the stuff.

“So, what are these questions about?” I asked as I sat down with our drinks.

“Oh, just asking how you’re liking it around Chastain because you’re new and all that stuff.” He said.

“I mean I’ve known Irving and Jessica for a long time, so working with them is an absolute delight. But so are the other people,”

“Yeah? So I can assume you’re liking it here?” I turned around as I heard the voice of Dr. Bell.

“Dr. Bell, hi. Yeah, it’s an absolute delight working here.” I said with a sweet smile, showing off my testh.

“That’s great to hear. I’m sorry about sending William Beau your way, but you were the only one available.”

“Oh, that’s alright, he’s in surgery right now, with Dr. Austin.”

He nodded his head, “So I’ve heard.”

“Care to join us for a drink?” I asked out of politeness, hoping he would say no so I could spend more alone time with Grayson.

“Oh, I can’t, board meetings and stuff. Grayson, after you’ve finished your drink I expect you to go back to the office and finish the things for today.” He said before walking away.

“You got it, Mr. B.”

He turned around, ready to scold Grayson, “It’s Dr. Bell, nevermind, why even bother? Oh and, I believe I’ll see you both at the charity gala tonight?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I said with an smile planted on my lips. We waited In silence as Dr. Bell started to walk away.

“So, anything else you’d like to ask?” I said and stared at the boy in front of me.

“Well yeah, uhm, would you like to go the gala tonight? I mean, with me? Like, as my date? You know what? It’s a stupid question, you’re probably more intrested in someone else anyway.” He said as he started to gather his things.

“Woah woah woah, where is all that coming from?” I asked as took his hands in mine, stopping him from being able to do the task he wanted to do.

“Well, aren’t you intrested in another doctor? Someone like Conrad or Devon.”

I laughed a little but shook my head, “No, I’m not. I-I am interested in you. I like you, Grayson. And I would love to go to the gala with you.”

“Wait, really?”

I laughed a little and showed him a bright smile, “Yeah.”

I let go of his hands and quickly put them behind his neck, while he puts his around my waist and slowly kissed me.

“We should probably go back to work.” I said after we let go of each other to catch our breaths.

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“I can’t wait for tonight,” I said and winked at him before turning around and walking back to the ER.

——

thank you @bitweird1 for requesting this! i hope you like it!

#grayson betournay #grayson betournay x reader #grayons x reader #the resident grayson #the resident #mina okafor #devon pravesh #conrad hawkins #irving feldman #aj austin #the resident fox

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downtownbetty · 2 years

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What are your methods for staying bright, especially in the darkness & clear and on your own true path, even amidst the chaos? Here is our List below. Echo any of these that work for you & feel free to add any that we might have missed: Meditation. Breath. Silence & Stillness. Letting go of chatter in your mind & in the media. Prayer. Yoga. Tea ☕️ Eating healthy food. Exercise & feeling strong. Taking care of Plants @ home & Mother Earth. Getting outside into fresh air. Going for walks & runs. Appreciating Nature 🌿. Taking care of animals. Understanding crystals, mushrooms, trees & other magical elements on this beautiful planet. Hot Salt Baths 🛁 , Aromatherapy + Sound Bowls. Being creative. Dancing. Kindness as a rule. Compassion for all living beings 💓. Empathy for all living beings. Understanding, even if it’s an opposing view. Treating others as you wish to be treated. Wishing everyone well on their path. Community + Connection. If you do any of these, tell us. And if you do other things that help you ✨ stay healthy, happy, holi ✨ please share with us. Let’s keep the vibes high, people. Let’s keep spreading the L🤍VE 📸 @downtown_betty wearing the new Longsleeve Perfect T & the coveted Toque, Eh? In Athletica + The 95 Leggings in Thunder Cloud #bicyclethelabel #longsleeveperfectt #toqueeh #the95leggings #cottonleggings #cozyset #kundalinipractice #aquarianwomen #plantlover #earthlover #sustainablebrand #sustainablefashion #sustainableliving #healthypractices #zerowasteliving #crystallover #goddess #veganlife #downtownbetty #naturalfiberathletics #lessplasticismore #everydaywear #seasonless #seasonlessfashion #sustainablefashion #styleover40 #monochromaticoutfit #monochromehome #ecoluxury #ecofashion www.downtownbetty.com (at Balsam Beach Studio) https://www.instagram.com/p/CXo8g3xP3zO/?utm_medium=tumblr

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dippedanddripped · 4 years

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For footwear companies that have long embraced the idea of being more carbon neutral, they are now taking the next steps to protect the planet even further — by focusing internally.

Take Allbirds, for instance, which is now labeling every product it makes with its carbon footprint measure. The idea is to encourage the public to think more seriously about what goes into the clothing and shoes they wear, similar to food producers’ Nutrition Facts label.

The hope is that other firms will follow suit.

When it comes to impact, it’s clear that choices humans make have long-ranging effects on the planet’s health. And when the novel coronavirus pandemic forced business shut downs across the world in late March, it became overwhelmingly clear how the fashion industry needs to be on the forefront of change.

And consumers are ready for evolution.

A 2019 Nielsen study found that 81% of respondents “felt strongly that companies should help improve the environment.” The report said further that “Millennials, Gen Z and Gen X are the most supportive, but their older counterparts aren’t far behind.” Some brands have taken their commitments beyond 100% sustainable, based on their materials, purchasing offsets, the way their factories run and how they set up their headquarters. Eventually having a net positive impact on the planet is a goal for many of these firms.

Timberland, owned by brand powerhouse VF Corp., has been a leader in environmental stewardship for nearly two decades, for example. The brand has reduced its use of greenhouse gases by 50%, and increased the use of renewable energy at its facilities, said Colleen Vien, Timberland’s director of sustainability. At year end 2019, the company was 68% to its goal of having all footwear include at least one material containing recycled, organic or renewable content.

“The primary focus on sustainability in the past was to responsibly source in a way that does not cause harm to people,” Vien said. “Now, the opportunity is to go further and create a positive impact. It’s giving back to the planet, as opposed to just changing it.”

In fall 2020, Timberland will launch a collection of boots made from leather sourced from Thousand Hills Lifetime Grazed ranches. The leather for the collection will come from hides from the regenerative ranches as well as through using recycled leather, and Timberland plans to scale this program over time.

“Regenerative is so exciting because it is more than just minimizing the pesticides,” said Vien. “It’s giving back to the soil in the way that cattle is raised and that agricultural commodities are grown.”

Timberland, which has also launched a campaign to plant 50 million trees over the next five years, on top of the 10 million it has already planted, hopes to become net positive in the future.

A similar ethos is top of mind in luxury as well.

For 45-year-old Italian brand Santoni, its headquarters in Corridonia, Italy, is built from 90% recycled materials and runs entirely on energy harvested from solar panels on top of its factory. At 170% of use, the panels produce more energy than the company actually uses, and the excess is sold back to the energy grid.

In its latest product move, Santoni will launch a women’s and men’s capsule collection for fall ’20 called Rethink, consisting of shoes and a backpack made with nylon obtained from plastic recovered from sea waste, eco leather, recycled rubber, recycled metal and water-based glue.

New high-end brand Aera, founded in 2019 by Tina Bhojwani, Jean-Michel Cazabat and Alvertos Revach, has also launched with an entirely sustainability-focused philosophy. According to Bhojwani, the vegan brand is 110% sustainable, in part by offsetting its carbon and water impacts to have a positive impact on the planet. The brand’s shoes, from flats and sandals to heels to boots, are made from material that is 50% plant-based and 50% synthetic, with a goal to use 100% recycled materials eventually.

“We created a brand because we wanted to prove that luxury style and design can be analogous with sustainability. It doesn’t have to be either or,” said Bhojwani. Aera shoes are handmade in Veneto, Italy where artisans take two days to craft each shoe.

To cement its engagement with sustainability, the brand, which in early April launched a new tagline, “Luxury footwear without a footprint,” hired a third party to measure the impacts the brand’s production, transportation, storage and delivery has on the environment. And the brand focuses on being transparent about those impacts, a principle that’s important to the founders to show.

One of the ways Aera balances the costs to being sustainable is by having a curated assortment, said Bhojwani.

“I don’t believe that seasons are relevant anymore. We have a timeless, seasonless collection that’s not meant to be marked down,” she said. “If you have the quality, the shoes will last and you can use them years from now. You also try to not have a very big collection.”

Its shoe boxes, meanwhile, are made of paper that contains 40% post-consumer recycled waste and 15% residues of organic waste.

Finally, for the past seven years — and for decades before that — Aldo Group has focused deeply on eco-friendly efforts and in 2018 became the first fashion footwear and accessories company to gain carbon-neutral certification.

“Our founder [Aldo Bensadoun] was thinking of social responsibility and purpose before the terms became mainstream,” said director of global communications Tanya Iermieri. “Mr. B. started designing shoes with the goal of creating a different kind of modern company, one founded on compassion and ethics, aiming to influence society in both fashion and social responsibility.”

In 2013, Aldo first built “a team of sustainability experts to measure our footprint internally and annually. This allowed us to reinforce the connection between our sustainability department and the entire business and to raise awareness on the role of our company in the fight against climate change,” she added.

As of 2018, the same year Aldo began purchasing carbon offsets for its non-avoidable emissions, Aldo had reduced its operation’s emissions by 46%.

Looking to 2030, Aldo plans to reduce its carbon emissions per pair of shoes by 30% compared to 2016 levels. The firm also incorporates low-impact, plant-based materials and recycled plastics as its materials, with plans for components to “become even more sustainable as we continue to research and implement this.” Plus, in 2019, Aldo’s Call It Spring label went fully vegan using jersey fabric made of post-consumer recycled water bottles, eco-vegan leathers and insoles made from an algae-based material called Bloom.

And for the Aldo brand, the company launched its first sustainability capsule collection called RPPL, made from recycled plastic bottle yarn and lake algae in 2019. “Each pair contains five recycled plastic water bottles that keeps 640 grams of carbon dioxide from entering the atmosphere,” the company said.

Most recently in 2019, Aldo stopped using single-use plastic shopping bags and is now phasing out paper and plastic shopping bags, too. Instead the company gives out a transportable shoebox with a built-in rope. The shoeboxes are made from 80% post-consumer recycled materials and are completely recyclable.

Looking ahead, re-using and recycling the materials in footwear when it’s reached the end of life are goals for Timberland and Aera, among other firms.

“Circularity is becoming part of our design philosophy,” said Timberland’s Vien. “There’s the infrastructure for suppliers to take the [old] components and actually turn them into new components. Before, it was difficult to find at scale the vendors that would be able to do that for us. Now we know we can do it.”

Aera’s Bhojwani added, “Ultimately, we do believe that if you’re going to be sustainable, you can’t work in a linear way. You have to have a circular approach to the business.”

#sustainablity #sustainable sneakers #timberland #aera #fashion blog #recycled materials #rppl

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gaia-conceptions · 4 years

Photo

The Adjustable Strap Built in Bra Ojai Long Dress is a seasonless dress as it transitions easily from a hot Summer day to a base layer paired with jackets and warmer dresses. This is especially true if made with one of our Silk Fabrics. I’m about to make one for myself in our new Heavy Hemp/Organic Cotton Knit. Style – The Adjustable Strap design has thin straps with antique brass sliders for modifying fit. Shape – The Ojai shape is a relaxed slightly A-line design that embodies laid-back sophistication. Built-In Bra – A soft, stretchy shelf bra added for light support. Size – Order based on BUST measurement Fabric Shown – Silk Charmeuse Color Shown – Poppy (Natural Plant Dye) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5oPF6FBNKa/?igshid=1cvgimoi0ykzi

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ruknowhere · 3 years

Text

The Season of Phantasmal Peace Then all the nations of birds lifted together the huge net of the shadows of this earth in multitudinous dialects, twittering tongues, stitching and crossing it. They lifted up the shadows of long pines down trackless slopes, the shadows of glass-faced towers down evening streets, the shadow of a frail plant on a city sill— the net rising soundless as night, the birds' cries soundless, until there was no longer dusk, or season, decline, or weather, only this passage of phantasmal light that not the narrowest shadow dared to sever. And men could not see, looking up, what the wild geese drew, what the ospreys trailed behind them in silvery ropes that flashed in the icy sunlight; they could not hear battalions of starlings waging peaceful cries, bearing the net higher, covering this world like the vines of an orchard, or a mother drawing the trembling gauze over the trembling eyes of a child fluttering to sleep; it was the light that you will see at evening on the side of a hill in yellow October, and no one hearing knew what change had brought into the raven's cawing, the killdeer's screech, the ember-circling chough such an immense, soundless, and high concern for the fields and cities where the birds belong, except it was their seasonal passing, Love, made seasonless, or, from the high privilege of their birth, something brighter than pity for the wingless ones below them who shared dark holes in windows and in houses, and higher they lifted the net with soundless voices above all change, betrayals of falling suns, and this season lasted one moment, like the pause between dusk and darkness, between fury and peace, but, for such as our earth is now, it lasted long.

Derek Walcott, "The Season of Phantasmal Peace" from Collected Poems: 1948-1984

#Derek Walcott #poem

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lilacsandfireflies · 2 years

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The Season Of Phantasmal Peace

BY DEREK WALCOTT

#poetry #derek walcott #bird #animal #autumn #nature

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123designsrq · 5 years

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NOW YOU CAN GO GREEN AND RECYCLE YOUR SHOES

While using term carbon ‘footprint’ rather too literally, the folks at Native desire to reduce effect on earth introduced about by output of their footwear. Footwear frequently contain large products of leather, rubber, and plastic, which have a very pretty high carbon impact and introduce a whole slew of chemicals for the earth once they’re inevitably thrown away following a few years of wearing. And never the guarana plant Shoe by Native Footwear. Made entirely from plant-based materials, within the torso, for the insole, outsole, the laces, the flower Shoe is 100% completely biodegradable, and could in-fact be switched into compost, to help plants grow better! recycle old shoes for money?

The Flower Shoe doesn’t use new materials, but rather introduces old materials in to a new, one-of-a-kind product. Each part of the shoe is plant-based, using materials like jute, pineapple husk, kenaf, linen, given natural skin oils like essential essential olive oil for suppleness and luxury. Tricky products from the shoe’s design involved obtaining a workaround for your sole, which Native could solve by partnering with France-based Reltex to make a sole that comprises a eucalyptus-pulp insole, kenaf (hemp) and corn cushioning, plus a sap-based tread that gives the footwear its grip. Binding all the shoe’s parts together produced the next challenge, recycle old shoes near me, because so many shoe companies rely on toxic, non-biodegradable petrochemical-based glues to hold the sneaker’s parts together. Native’s solution involved stitching all the parts together using entirely plant based threads that are sufficiently strong enough for sneaker construction.

It seems sensible a classic, class-apart shoe that breaks limitations having its choice of materials, additionally to establishes a effective seasonless, genderless and adaptable style that’s created for everyone. The Flower Shoe eventually does placed on out, states Mike Belgue, like every footwear. But unlike most footwear that finish off being tossed inside the trash (and finding their approach to landfills) after their existence is finished, the flower Shoe may be put in the compost bin, where bacteria can break the shoe reduced as handful of as 45 days, where can i recycle shoes near me, decreasing the shoe with a nutrient-wealthy compost that could nourish our world as opposed to polluting it!

recycle shoes nike,

recycle unwearable shoes, recycle shoes nyc,

recycle shoes san diego,

dsw recycle shoes, Read the full article

#dswrecycleshoes #recycleoldshoesformoney #recycleoldshoesnearme #recycleshoesnike #recycleshoesnyc #recycleshoessandiego #recycleunwearableshoes #wherecanirecycleshoesnearme

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