#also the halo behind his head is part of the design its not a background feature he just has that

[catzgam3rz]

It is V late have a Bad Boy for your troubles

[ner5y]

MY FUCKING GOD HOW I LOVE FIRST PART OF EXECUTION

I LOVE YOUR STYLE AND I SEE HOW MUCH WORK YOU PUT INTO THIS ITS SO BEAUTIFUL AND DETAILED

I ALWSO LOVE HOW YOU MADE FOR MAIN ELITE DIFRENT THRONES ITS SO NICE DETAIL

SEEING ME UP THERE LITERARY MADE MY DAY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PUTUNG ME THERE

Alwsi sorry for screaming im yast so in nice mood after reading this ^^

Thank you!!

I put a decent amount of thought into the throne's designs!

In this essay I will-

Hootbons was the most difficult to design. Good thing I started with her's first!

Since her OC maple is a rubberhose cartoon, I went with a 20s technology theme. The 20s were a time of great technological advancement. Radio, Television, even Vaccum cleaners!

Just cluttering a bunch of 20s technology together didn't look very good, though, so I added maple tree branches along with animation themed items like pencils and animation cels.

Mushy's is just a slightly redesigned version of her throne from her execution. I added a few more mushroom types for variety.

Dia's was easy. It's just his crown as a throne.

Since I found 0104-vkta from her human Gangle art, That's what I based her throne on! You'll see a combination of the happy and sad masks in the middle.

Loxely's was also simple, she's a flower. I made her throne a flower.

Goose's is supposed to be a goose feather, but I looked up references for duck feathers instead for some reason. (also, I just drew generic bird feet instead of goose feet??)

since Rabid is a jester with a clown nose (a mix of a medieval form of entertainment and the more modern concept of a circus clown), I decided to mix a medieval throne with props you'd find in a circus!

Burrotello's throne was made reaalllly late in the game, when I had already finished most of the sketches for part one, but I felt bad not including her since she was the only new member of our discord at the time.

I went with a gothic theme for her's. I don't think her clothes can really be considered goth, but that's what I went for. Maybe it's the earrings.

You'll also notice that, unlike the others, she doesn't have anything on the backrest! I forgot it 😭 (this design element is an important theme.)

Edit:

Just realised I forgot to include Ark-fork!

Her's was pretty simple, it's just a throne made of bones. There wasn't really any planning for this one!

Okay, so the backrests! Each of the thrones have a circular element in that area (except for Burrotello because I forgot, and Dia's and Mushy's aren't really circular, but you get it). They are meant to represent halos. If you look at the backgrounds, you'll see eyes on the balcony of the elite's seating section:

And, it's not very visible since the large thrones are covering it up, but there are wings on the back wall behind the elites.

Multiple eyes and wings are commonly attributed to biblically accurate angels

The elites sit high above everyone else, surrounded by angelic imagery with "halos" behind their heads. It is a very clear show of their hubris, of their willigness to play god not only with their AUS, but with their own audience, deciding who lives or dies by the wave of a hand (i.e. executions).

When I describe "the elites" here, I am specifically referring to how they are portrayed as characters in my comic. This is not a comment on the real people behind these sonas.

If you read all of that, thanks! I put a lot of work into this comic, so i appreciate people taking interest in my process!

[illyaana]

Credits to @breakingpengui1 to the Tendou fanart! Do check them out, I stalked them for almost two hours- ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Fantasy Collab by @bluebellhairpin

God I'm sorry it took so long TwT I wanted to make this really good so TwT (don't think I did it) Do check out the other works involved!! I am also thinking of making this a three-part series 'cause I have some ideas on this and I took way to long on this, so let me know if you want me to do it!!

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Like my writing? Do you want a drabble specifically made for you about your love life with a character of your choosing? Check out my 50 followers event over here!

Tags: Fantasy AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff, Angst, Royal! Y/N x Werewolf! Tendou

Word Count: 2611

There was a time when the world of the supernatural was one of peace and harmony.

Magia, the realm of magic and the supernatural being, was one filled with mysteries and beauty.

Plants would dance to the rhythm made by the woodland creatures. Fairies and elves would sing songs in praise of the wondrous views and people who nurtured the lands and made it the beauty it was today.

Mermaids and the life under the wide oceans and seas shared the riches of the water with those on land to make both worlds something to gaze upon.

Yet, it all changed when humans found something within them.

Greed and Pride - the recipe to the fall of Magia.

Now, the land of the supernatural isn’t like the ones stated in fairy tales and stories by the Grimm Brothers of Hans Christen Andersen.

It is one where sins are not shunned but encouraged.

Kings and queens interfere with the peace once built by the people to become one of villainy and devilish intentions - pillaging and conquering lands to become stronger and “better”.

The ones labelled “magical” or “not human” were either killed or hidden far away, never to be seen once again.

You were born into this - this world filled with anguish and pain.

You were born to be on the top of the food chain - to rule a twisted and dark country: Thelphs.

“Y/N, don’t writhe in pain. You are next-in-line for the throne - a simple wound like this should not make you fall.”

“Y/N, a leader never hides away from death - they face it and make it their weapon.”

“Hold your sword higher! You need the correct angle to slice through someone cleanly!”

“Do not taint the name of Thelphs, young one - death is not the thing you should be worried of but me.”

“If you don’t win, you are no longer my kin.”

Your father’s words rang in your head as you reached the land of Aldis - the land that never fell to the wants of humanity and shunned it.

Aldis protected the supernatural world. They were the ones who held onto the desire to make Magia what it was many, many years ago.

It was known for the beauty it held - the flowers were said to sing songs every day and every night and the mountains shook the ground once a month to say thank you to their valiant effort in protecting what the world of Magia should be.

And yet here you are; leading a line of men wielding swords and cannons aplenty to kill the very thing the world should be.

“Onward,” you shouted as you and your man marched down the stone roads of Aldis, “Fight, my people - fight for Thelphs, fight for your King!”

You pulled the sword sheathed in your belt and pointed towards the land before you. Soon, an uproar formed from the men behind you as you all marched towards the lines of houses.

You begged your humanity to hide as you wielded the weapon in your hand and slashed through hundreds of innocent people.

You begged your ears to close just for a few hours so that the screams of children could not enter as you pillaged their homes, reaping all their goods.

You felt the ground shake below you, trying its best to stop you from killing any more living things, yet you couldn’t.

A haze formed in front of your eyes, hiding all of your caring sides. You could only feel bloodlust - the need to slaughter and to feel the blood of others on you.

It was no use. Your feet, despite being on a moving floor, were still holding on to the ground, The grip you hand on your sword didn’t loosen and tightened.

If you were meant to be a machine designed to kill, you needed to carry out your job properly to ensure you aren’t thrown away.

The fairies soon came to attack you and your men, but you couldn’t kill it.

It was the first time you saw one that had magical abilities. The beauty it held entranced you.

Their wings were translucent. The light that hit it would change colour thanks to the dust that left its wings, forming somewhat of a halo around them. Their hair reached the very bottom of their legs. It swished back and forth as they flew towards you.

A pang was felt in your heart when you remembered your father’s words.

He said the fairies were ones who never cared about humans and instead mooch humans to live.

They were pests that needed to be killed, according to him.

But they are fighting alongside humans right now to protect their homes.

It was clear your father’s words were far from the truth, yet you needed to follow his wants, his needs.

You begged your limbs to move on their own so that you didn’t feel the piles of flesh go through your blade.

But you couldn’t.

You had to stay conscious through all the pain and misery you were giving to those who didn’t even deserve it.

The mixture of both human and fairy blood soaked your inner shirt, forever staining it.

The once grey tiles that covered the floor of Aldis now are forever painted red, and it was thanks to your orders.

You walked through the mountains of bodies, the blood streaming from them staining your shoes.

This was your fault.

This was all your fault.

You looked up to the sky, praying for the rain to fall and wash away your sins, but you could only see the clear, blue sky staring back at you. The clouds moved slowly through the pale blue background midst hiding the Sun’s blinding light away from you.

Semi, your commander soon stood beside you.

“My liege-”

“I killed them - I killed angel-like fairies. I killed humans, I made the ground shake - literally - and I killed the first-ever fairy I have seen. How did my father do this and still walk around Thelphs with no regrets?”

“Y/N...” Semi said, trying to console you.

But you could only laugh.

This.

This is what it means to be human- to kill those who don’t deserve to be killed.

“I can’t handle this anymore, Semi. I want to end this - all of this - so badly, yet I can’t even fight my own father.”

You turned your face to look at your childhood friend.

He too felt the same way you did - his eyes said everything.

Behind the coffee-coloured eyes hid guilt, sorrow and pain.

His face filled with the dust and smoke from the bombs that your men slung to this land. Yet, some streaks were starting from his eyes to the ends of his chin that were clean. Blood dripped from the top of his forehead down to his lips, leaving half of his face coloured in crimson.

Your thoughts rang clearly after looking at the man before you.

It was no longer about wanting to end it, you had to.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, “I will end this, Semi - this unneeded suffering and killings - I’ll end it all.”

He gave a teary smile to you. “Please, Y/N. I don’t think I can do this until I die.”

You pulled a handkerchief you kept in your pocket and proceeded to wipe the blood off his face.

“I can’t, too. This guilt,” you shook slightly, tears threatening to fall, “This guilt is too much to bear.”

He raised his hand and wiped off the tears.

“My liege, you need to be strong. We’re going to face the people we’ve committed countless sins against. Impersonate the devil - be the evil person you aren’t to protect the name of Thelphs.”

He took the blood-soaked handkerchief from your hand and threw it to the floor, “After all, what but devils would do what we did?”

Your heart broke at the words muttered by the man before you.

He was the furthest thing from a devil.

He was the man who comforted you when you were crying.

He was the man who took your pain and gave you nothing but light and joy.

Yet he stood in front of you - covered in blood both his and others with a strong resolve.

You stared at him, anger flaring in your orbs.

“You are the furthest thing from a devil, Semi Eita. But, we are controlled by one. Innocent ones like you should have never fallen into his tricks.”

He was taken aback by what you said. Tears soon fell from his eyes, sobs that he hid from you all these years came flowing like an endless howl.

He placed his head against the corner of your neck. Your shirt slowly began taking in his tears as they trickled down your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his figure. It was your time to comfort him.

Once he stopped crying, he wiped his tears and gripped your shoulders. “We need to go to the riverbank now.”

You nodded and let Semi lead you to the body of water.

You saw how the people tried to protect themselves from your men. They formed a circle with the younger ones in the middle. The ones on the circumference of the circle gripped on their small blades as they threatened your armoured soldiers.

They cared for each other.

The strong wanted to protect the weak; they were willing to sacrifice their lives so that the legacy of Aldis lived on through the young.

“Bring out the carriages,” you told your men. They immediately nodded and proceeded to follow the orders issued.

You turned to the people you’ve captured. A smile managed to reach your lips as they looked at your figure with fear.

“I do not wish any harm on you. We’re just going to make all of you line up and bring you to Thelphs - that is it,” you finished.

Most of them nodded in fear, yet there was one who refused to listen.

His hands had burned aplenty, instantly telling you that he was an ironsmith. He wasn’t rich - the clothes he wore were tattered, many of the holes were formed through his hours in iron crafting, presumably. Yet, you didn’t doubt his skill in fighting. The way he held the sword spoke more than words. The way his fingers comfortably wrapped around the leather handle made you feel some sort of pride within.

He was a person of valour and determination.

In almost seconds, he lunged in your direction.

You didn’t want to take out your sword. It felt like the man needed to hurt you in some way to make himself feel relaxed.

You gripped on the handle of your sword but didn’t have the heart to pull it out of your sheath.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the small tip of the blade to pierce through your skin. You wanted to feel your skin tear from the man’s undying resolve.

But it never came.

Instead, you heard the clashing of metal against metal.

Semi had rushed to protect you using his shield.

He stared at you, anger visible in his eyes.

“You made me a promise, Y/N. Don’t you dare take the easy way out.”

You could only smile and nod at the ash grey-haired male in front of you.

You teared your gaze from Semi to the man before you.

The disappointment and vengeance in him began to grow. The flame he once held within grew into a blazing fire.

“Why? Why attack us?” he began.

“We did nothing to you. We protected ourselves and helped others who needed us. We never bothered Thelphs - not even once, so why?”

You couldn’t reply - your morals would’ve gotten the best of you.

“Chain them all to each other - take all their weapons or anything sharp. We’re going back to Thelphs as winners, we don’t need the scars to prove it.”

You heard the roars of the men who stood before you. In their eyes, they believed all they’ve done is for the betterment of the world you all lived in.

But you knew what hid behind the tapestry that was woven by your father - destruction.

You bit your lip, not wanting to ruin the cheerful moment your men were having - all you could do was stare at Semi and let your eyes speak of all the pain you were feeling.

From afar, you heard a howl that woke up your numb senses.

Werewolves.

Joy graced the victims of your purge.

Their saviours came, ready to vanquish you and your men.

“They said the future leader of Thelphs was one ruthless and evil miscreant, yet they seem awfully sad for someone who led their troops to glory,” a werewolf said as he emerged from the bush beside you, “They do have a heart, after all.”

You stopped the minute you saw the male that now stood before you.

His red hair framed his sharp-jawed face. His obsidian eyes stared you down, a passion forming within the two of you. His olive skin gleamed under the soft light of the Sun. As he moved, you saw the scars painted on his skin - slashes made by swords and vicious beasts shifted in variations of his peach skin.

The ends of his lips raised as his eyes raised up and down, taking you in slowly.

“Mine.”

He rushed to you, his hand finding its place around your throat. He gripped softly, but strong enough to keep your soldiers on alert.

“Stand back!” you said, urging them to move back.

“Oh? - So my mate actually does care for me, don’t they?” He said, his mouth reaching the base of your neck, “How sweet of you, my love.”

Mate?

“State your business here, werewolf.”

“Well, in the beginning, it was to help the people you’ve captured,” his hand travelled to your waist, pulling you in, “But I think my prey has changed.”

You tried to pry yourself off of him, but you knew, deep inside, you wanted to pull him closer. You wanted to throw the troubles you had, all the roles you were born to play, to cast away the men who viciously fought under your order - all of that, just for a male you have just gazed upon.

The pull, the connection - it was instant. It was present, unrivalled.

Its wants and needs rang so clearly in your head.

But you had a promise to Semi - to the country you loved.

“Let go of me, wolf.”

“You don’t mean that love,” he said as he placed his head in the crook of your neck, “You want me just as much as I want you.”

He placed his hand on your cheek and you instinctively melted into the soft touch of his.

“Look at that,” he whispered, “You have already felt it, too - you know you can’t look back.”

“I can’t just give it up,” you tear.

“Then change it. I’ll stand behind you - change your homeland to what it was; a beacon of hope and freedom,” he smiled as your eyes softened, “This connection has to be proof that you were meant to be the change Thelphs needs, Y/N.”

You stare at his black eyes - more specifically the brown flecks that danced within them. They sang of nothing but determination and want - he wanted you, but he knew you had a want to change your homeland. He knew it all - just by a few minutes of just glancing at you.

He kissed your cheek, warmth spreading by that small action.

Your thoughts ran clear, the blinds holding back your judgement drawn.

“No.”

[cyoza]

shrike

I was not going to post on here and I tried like 5 times but for some reason the ao3 link isn’t showing up in the tags sand I’m feeling very frustrated so I’m just going to upload the first chapter on here and then the rest of the chapters will be on ao3 because it took me forever last time to get all the chapters together here 

I’m going to post the link to my ao3 at the end and see if it works this time but its literally giving me a headache lol 

- 

In his 3 years as a protective agent of the CIA, Dick Grayson had never once slept past his alarm. However, he’d never felt the urge stronger than he did that morning. Even with the blaring siren of his alarm sounding, he’d lay staring at the ceiling for the few minutes he could spare wishing he could hit the snooze button. 

For the next 6 months. 

Dick had been very lucky in his 5 year career, shadowing various important but interesting diplomats and thus learning a lot more than the average person about the world and often top secret information. But it seemed like his luck had run out. For he was to spend the next 6 months babysitting some spoiled, pampered princess. 

Kory Anders had definitely built up a reputation for herself - and not necessarily a good one. From his research, he had found multiple articles that described her short temper, recklessness and honestly almost careless attitude towards dating; a new man or woman on her arm every month. It didn’t help that she was an actual princess which meant that guarding her was going to be a bigger pain in the ass than usual. When it came to Royals, they would feel more comfortable with their own services as well as CIA protection which made it all the more difficult to get the job done. Safe to say there was no real part of him looking forward to the task. 

But Dick got up anyway, clicking off both his phone alarm and battery back up along the way. He got ready in a daze, cruising on autopilot until he stood in front of the mirror adjacent to his front door. White shirt crisp and immaculate as usual, dark navy tie placed perfectly at the centre, all pulled together with a sharp angled black blazer. 

A picture of a model agent. 

Bruce Wayne would be proud. 

Dick watched as his eyes narrowed automatically at the thought but he forced himself to relax; he didn’t need anymore tension in his body today and thinking about his adoptive father wasn’t going to help.  

So he grabbed his keys and made his way to work, again not really present for the journey but the dread that settled in him as he pulled into the parking lot forcibly ejected him out of his reverie and back to reality. 

He tried to ignore it, doing the best he could to seem like his charismatic but professional self as he made it through security. Saying hello to Joe as he x-rayed his bag and commenting on Max’s new hair do as she scanned through his fingerprints and ID before making his way through the halls to the DS’s office. 

He paused facing the heavy mahogany door, bracing himself before knocking. 

‘Come in,’ was the gruff reply. 

Dick let out a sigh before entering, shutting the door softly behind him and making his way to stand by the double burgundy leather arm chairs opposite the mahogany desk. 

Directorate of Support Officer Charles ‘Chip’ Wenthem looked every bit the stereotypical middle-aged officer was to be expected to look. Thick grey caterpillar moustache with a matching buzzcut and permanently stress induced protruding coronary in the neck. 

‘Ah Grayson, good you’re here. The Royal Family will be here any minute. I know this isn’t the best assignment but I want you to put your best foot forward, alright? We really need this to go well.’ 

‘Of course, sir. Looking forward to doing the best I can for my country as always.’ He lied, giving him a tense but polite smile that neither reassured nor reinforced his statement. Yet neither of them mentioned anything, knowing the job would get done either way to an exemplary standard anyway. 

‘Glad to hear it, son. Now, as explained in the dossier, you’ll be guarding the Princess Kory Anders of Tamaran along with her personal protection services named Faddei Adeliyi. You’ve done this enough times that I don’t need to hold your hand, Grayson, but proceed with caution. The Tamaranians keep to themselves so we don’t know much about them for a background on customs. Follow their lead and watch yourself. You’re one of my best agents and I don’t want you to get kicked off this case for something stupid, alright?’ 

Dick suddenly felt the tension he’d tried very hard to suppress return to his body at full force. Chip was a good DS but it was times like this that he felt his patience with him was paper thin. 10 years of experience in law enforcement with 5 of them in covert operations just to have him speak to him like he was a teenager fresh out the force on his first mission. Dick bit back his frustration and gave him another tight smile but before he could speak again, there was a knock at the door prior to Chip’s mousy assistant poking his head through. 

‘Um, sir, we have the Tamaranean Royal family through security and here to see you.’ Arthur spoke quietly, shifting his eyes rapidly between Chip and the floor. Even after 2 years working here, Arthur was still terrified of every single thing; it was a wonder how he even got the job. 

‘Send them in.’ Chip waved his hand in confirmation sending Arthur’s head back around the door before he came back to swing it wide open again. 

Dick had seen beautiful people in his life as he seemed to always fall into their orbit unintentionally. But they all paled in comparison to the people who walked in the room in those next 5 minutes. The man who walked in after Arthur could only be described as ethereal. Towering taller than any other person Dick had come into contact with, it wasn’t his height that commanded the attention in the room nor was it his transfixing good looks. His shoulder length dark locs framed his face and corresponded with his gruff beard, which were both laced through with grey and emphasised the high slant of his cheekbones. It was his eyes, however, that drew the attention to the face, a gleaming brilliant gold that seemed luminescent even in the poorly lit office. But it was neither of these things that person would be enthralled by. Rather the aura around him was so authoritative and regal that it demanded an attention that you never wanted to withdraw. He seemed to glide as he walked into the room, his mulberry chiffon-like robe swishing around him as if there was a breeze that existed only for him. Dick could only assume he was the King, especially with the thin intricately woven golden crown he wore, pinning back some of his locs. 

Even the guards that trailed behind him were some of the most stunning guards he’d ever seen, despite them dimming in comparison to the King. A man and a woman, again taller than the average person and again dressed in a similar shade of mauve to the King but more combat appropriate. Dick felt his knowledge of gender binary being challenged as he observed them both, the woman’s head shaved with a complex design tattooed across the expanse and the man with equally elaborate braids running across his scalp and trailing down his back. He had never felt more inferior in his life, even with Bruce Wayne as a father. 

Dick’s attention was brought back to Chip as he made his way around the desk to greet them. 

‘Your Majesty King Myand’r, welcome to the US. It is our utmost pleasure to be able to host you on your stay here.’ Chip had never sounded or looked more nervous in his life, this interaction clearly having the same effect on him as it was having on Dick. 

‘Thank you..Charles, is it?’ He questioned, moving forward to extend a hand which ‘Charles’ anxiously but gratefully accepted. ‘And you must be Dick.’ He turned to Dick and stretched out a hand toward him too. 

‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ Dick hoped his voice sounded strong and stable but he made sure that his handshake was, uncharacteristically wanting to exert himself, as futile as he felt it was. 

‘So you’re the one protecting my daughter. Then let me introduce, my eldest daughter - Princess Koriand’r.’

King Myand’r stepped aside and it felt like all the breath had been punched out of Dick’s lungs. He had seen pictures, of course, but as beautiful as she was in them, they all felt like insults compared to the real thing. Dick didn’t know where to look first, completely overwhelmed by her presence. She seemed to be a head shorter than her father so she still dwarfed everyone in the room and it didn’t help that the vivid scarlet curls that sat atop her head gave her added inches that she really didn’t need. The crimson coils seemed to halo her face in a heart shape, her cheekbones high and sharp like her father’s and just like her father, her eyes were transfixing. Bright and shimmering, they mimicked his luminosity but hers were an emerald green that paralleled the jewels themselves. They were only emphasised by the glittery gold eyeshadow she wore, her pouty full lips also painted with a dark maroon. 

Dick knew he was being rude but he couldn’t help but look at her. It was difficult to look away, especially when she also wasn’t wearing very much. As relatively warm as it was in Virginia in September, it definitely didn’t warrant the outfit she wore, or lack thereof. Again she wore a varying shade of purple to her counterparts, but this time it covered way less. Clothed in a light cotton skirt he could barely call a skirt, it reached the floor but the two high slits travelling up her legs all the way to her hips left very little to the imagination so her legs seemed to go on forever which were only highlighted by the 5 inch gold gladiator sandals she was wearing. Her midriff was also bare, the top she was wearing covering her breasts and not very much else, wrapping around them with two tiny trivial spaghetti straps holding the fabric up. 

Dick felt like he had been staring at her for a lifetime but it was probably only 10 seconds, so he cleared his throat and stepped forward to greet her. 

‘Princess Koriand’r, hello. My name is Dick Grayson, I’ll be forming part of your protective team while you are here in the US. It is very nice to meet you and it’s an honour to be guarding you.’ Dick stepped forward to extend a hand to her but was taken aback when she merely rolled her eyes to the side and ignored his outreached hand to fold her arms. 

Dick looked frantically between the King and Chip dropping his hand and worried that he’d made a faux pas and offended her within a minute of meeting her. But he had merely taken the cue from her father with a handshake. Maybe it was different for different genders? Perhaps he was supposed to curtsey or bow? 

‘You must excuse my daughter, Mr Grayson, she is proving difficult to convince that she does in fact need your services. She is quite headstrong which is a trait we admire in our country as it shows strength. But in times like this, we could possibly do without it.’ He explained before gesturing to his daughter.

‘You don’t need to talk about me like I’m not here, Father.’

Dick reeled hearing her voice; it was rich and melodic and suited her perfectly. 

‘Well, Koriand’r, start acting like you are here and maybe I won’t have to,’ the King retorted. 

‘I don’t see why we have to be here at all. I am a trained warrior, there is no way that I could benefit from having these feeble h-’ 

‘Koriand’r, that’s enough!’ He cut her off sharply, eyes suddenly blazing. ‘It is time to stop acting like a child and act like you are next in line for the throne, for X’hal’s sake. The CIA were kind enough to extend their services to us while we are here and we were grateful to accept. You shall greet Mr Grayson here appropriately and behave yourself whilst you are under his care.’ 

Dick could see the fury building under her guise as her father admonished her, obviously wanting to argue when her body abruptly relaxed. She swung her head to face Dick, a wide, sultry smile on her face before making her way to stop a few inches in front of him, hips swaying enticingly as she strolled over. He only hoped his swirling mind wasn’t evident and his professional facade was still in place as he inhaled her sweet rosy scent. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to keep control of himself and not let himself be party to whatever game she was trying to play.

‘Hello, Mr Grayson, it’s a pleasure. I can only thank you for your service and I look forward to being under your care.’ She purred, lifting her hand towards him. 

Oh, these 6 months were going to be longer than expected. 

- 

Further chapters: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21785914

[moonstarpower-makeup]

THE BRIDE.

“Chains do not hold a marriage together. It is threads, hundreds of tiny threads, which sew people together through the years.”

– Simone Signeret

Maureen stood motionless as the other women dutifully fussed about her in dizzying circles. Hands were fixing a wreath of flowers to her hair, pinning back pinches of white dress fabric to perfectly fit the shape of her waist, adorning her with roughed crystals to be hung from her neck and a gauzy veil draped over her head,  all at once. Decorating a vessel, is what they were doing. An empty vessel because that is what she may have well been with her eyes had already gone far away into a void that tried to see what her future would be like as the wife of Abel. Their voices all sang like the clashing of an abhorrent choir. Each a shattered piece of glass playing to its own tune but they were all singing the same song.

How lucky she was to be the first to catch Able’s eye. An honor to be the first wife and to their spiritual  leader’s brother, of all people. That they were so jealous of how she would be the one to receive Abel’s attention and be one of the faces of their community and beliefs. That she would be exposed most to their guidance and transcend to a freer mind.

How lucky she was to be under Abel’s forever watchful eyes. An honor to be his property, his guaranteed punching bag behind closed doors. Jealous that they would never be the sacrifice to keep the older brother passive while his younger, more charming brother pulled in the women and hoarded them mind, body, and soul. Abel wanted someone clean. Someone untouched. And while Maureen was not wholly innocent, she’d yet to know the complete fullness of a man. Mostly because of the Devil himself. Since the fateful night that she had been pummeled to the floor, for a consequence she could not even remember anymore, Maureen found herself shying away from the touch of men. It baffled her, but her body’s memory was still in tact and told her to be wary of drawing another man’s gaze.

Oddly enough, the same night of her injury, a commune boy had also gone missing. Some blamed him for hurting Maureen and fleeing. Abel was praised for finding her then lurked in her background ever since. The dots were there but she could never find how they connected.

One of the older women, wearing a crown of long, grey curls, stepped directly into Maureen’s dazed out stare and brought the youth blinking back to her reality. Looking worriedly into her tanned face and steely eyes, she cast a silent plea to the elder, Don’t make me do this. Who paused and looked deeply into her with a calm that went beyond understanding; a knowing of what exactly their delicate Maureen was to be given away to. Her knobby, root like hand was softer than it appeared when it gently cupped the side of her face. Temporarily soothing. As soon as the brunette leaned into the thin flesh of her palm, she withdrew and poured an oil onto her finger tips. Proceeding to rub the hand pressed vanilla into her skin, anointing her neck and chest where her heart throbbed the loudest then pulling the veil over her face.

It was time.

In many ways, it was the same as the weddings in modern society. She’s given a bouquet of flowers made of those who grown natively around their commune. She’s lead to the start of an aisle made of their community lined barefooted on either side; females wearing variant white gowns and floral crowns, males in loose tops over white trousers. All smiling and in awe of the bride. At the end of the aisle stood her husband-to-be.

Tall. Powerful. Menacing.

He slowly turned to face her from the long stretch of grass that she was to walk down. Faces look on endearingly at her frozen in place. His gaze holds the weight of a sledge hammer, driving a sharp spike into Maureen’s heart when she hesitates to move. Wringing the raw stems between her hands until they stained green and embedded stingingly into her palms. Breath shallowly huffing in and out from parted tiers as her veins boiled. Fear seeping from her opening pores in an icy sweat. Drums rolled and bells chimed, rattling her to her bones.

He vacantly stares her down. Raising the fine hairs on her arms and nape, daring her to defy him a second longer. Her first step is more of a dragging limb. Her legs trembled as she began to fall into a slow pace. Each footfall like she were trying to walk across a trail of broken glass without lacerating the soles of her feet. Predatory eyes tracked the doe as she came cautiously closer to the jaws ready to clamp around her neck.

Beneath the veil her wretched expression was hidden. The closer she closes the distance, the thicker the air felt in her lungs. Suffocating her so strictly with the perfume of the vanilla oil choking her.. Pooling into her chest and making her feel so sick Maureen could’ve fainted but she didn’t dare step a toe out of her designated line. Never under Abel’s gaze. A couple steps. That’s all she had to do to make it at the end of the aisle.

One. Abel towered above her, scruffing her by the hair and cranking his fist back before driving it forward. Vision exploding in white with a shrill scream.

Two. He slowly leaned down as she gargled in the blood gushing from her serrated lip. Pleading for him to stop and feebly raising her hands to keep him at bay. Fingers snatched her by the throat and she can hear the expulsion of his breath in his exertion as he lifted and slammed her into the floor. Over and over until there was no feeling and she stared blankly in shock at the ceiling.The sickening, final splat of her skull planting into the floor and the blood spread like a halo.

Abel lifted the veil to reveal his timid bride caught in the reel of tiny flashbacks, the only thing she could recall from that day. His hooded eyes dropping below her face and lingering where her chest dramatically rose and fell before lifting back to her eyes. He barely has an iris, dark bottomless pits swallow her whole. She rusts into place as the ceremony began and old woman spoke but Maureen can barely pay attention to what she was saying until there is suddenly silence. Abel expels a demanding energy as every muscle of his body tenses and his hands ball into fists. Expecting her to speak.

“I-I do..” She hears herself saying in a detached voice. “Abel, do you take Maureen as your wife, to help guide her and merge your soul to one?”

“Yes.” His voice cuts in quickly.

“Then you may-”

His fingers suddenly snap around her bottom jaw, and it’s impossible for her not to recoil and try to pull back. His clamp squeezes down, applying a tremendous amount of pressure as he yanked her forward and leaned down at the same time. She shuts her eyes, flinching indefinitely. Hard lips crash into hers and she whimpered because it hurt, feeling him shudder as if she had just made the most beautiful sound. It is possessive, the near bruising force he uses to drive it home point blank. A happy jubilation surrounds and imprisons her. She would never be free of him.

[artanddesign-context]

Who am I as an artist?

Screen printing/silkscreening

Screen printing as we know was popularised by Pop Artists such as Robert Rauschenberg, Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein in the 1960’s, however the technique hails from ancient China and was used to transfer designs onto fabric. As a result of this, the Japanese adopted a stencilling technique in order to generate their imagery. The stencils they used were cut out of appear and the screens at this time here no woven with silk but with human hair. And rather than a rubber squeegee that would be used now a days to force the ink through the screen, a stiff brush was used instead to push the ink onto the fabric. By the 17th century came around the French were using screens made of silk screens, a step up from the human hair screens used in Japan, but kept the stiff brushes to push ink through the screen. It is not known who popularised the practice of stretching silk over a wooden frame.

Moving forward to the early 20th century, screen printing started to become as we know it now, as rubber squeegees were introduced as the toll the push ink through the silkscreen. A group of New York artist in the 1930’s decided to explore screen printing as an artistic medium on paper. They embraced the term ‘Serigraphy’ as a way to differentiate from the more fine art style of screen printing and the more common commercial based screen printing. Following this, like I mentioned before the the technique was brought to the masses in the 60’s as the 30’s showed the techniques real potential.

Screen printing is something I really enjoy working with as its is a highly versatile medium to work with. One element of screen printing that makes it a superior print method is that you can create anything from the most abstract, colour blocking piece, to highly detailed pieces. Near enough anything you want to print can be created with a silk screen and a squeegee. Another aspect that draws me to screen printing is that it can be used to easily print onto textiles, so opens the door to a lot of different creative opportunities. Prints can also be mass produces with ease in screen printing, so creating prints for sale can be a lot cheaper and easier.

Chuck Sperry is an American printmaker known for his screen prints on both paper and oak panel. He is best knows for his limited edition posters for bands such as Pearl Jam, The Black Keys and Widespread Panic. One of my favourite pieces by Sperry is ‘Semele’ (2016), a seven colour screen print on oak panel. This piece is inspired by posters her created for the band Widespread Panic in 2013, this is clear with the flowers round the women’s neck, the star-like pattern fond on the women’s skin and the halo like circle behind the head of the woman. The piece ‘Semele’ depicts a beautiful woman with long flowing hair that I feel as though creates a flow though the piece, taking your eyes on a journey through the piece. The black blocking and line work in the hair also creates depth in the piece as it creates nice strong shadows, it also build the flow of the hair. Using lighter line work in things such as the face, allowed these areas to remain soft and gentle and the details in these are no where near as bold. In Greek mythology Seleme is a young earth goddess, her themes include playfulness, youthfulness, fertility, joy and pleasure. I feel as though with the brights colours found throughout the piece, it allowed to Sperry to communicate Semele’s themes of joy and playfulness as I find yellow, orange and red quite bright happy colours. Having the you woman with a flower crown also links in with the fact that Seleme is a goddess of earth . Sperry used his own style to create his own depiction of the goddess Seleme beautifully, with his bold line work, colour choice and pattern, also using these tool to communicate themes in the piece.

[on the left, Seleme 2019. on the right Widespread Panic, spring tour 2013]

Peter Blake is an English pop artist, who grew in popularity in the late 1950’s. He has worked on a number of different album covers, the Beatles, Sargent Peppers Lonely Hearts Club being the most popular example. Blake has also created work for 2 albums by the band The Who, a cover for Band Aid single ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’. On top of this Blake is also known for the design of the 2012 Brit Award statuette. Blake’s contributions to the pop art movement resulted in being knighted at Buckingham Palace in 2002. One print of Blake’s that really stands out to me is his 2019 screen print ‘Red Nose Day’. I find this a really fun piece, especially with the way that Blake has used the red dot in the middle of The Who’s logo as Micky Mouses nose, as though he was wearing his own red nose. Red Nose Day is also often associated with supporting various different issues that children if the world face. So I find using the image of Micky Mouse as a nice way to pay homage to the children the charity supports, but also something that adults can enjoy too. The bright bold colour blocking style of the print also makes the piece very eye catching. The blocks of red in each square in the background of the piece take your eyes around the piece, allowing you to take in every part of the piece. Blake has also used contrasting lines in each square in the background, the round circles in The Who’s logo, and the straight angular lines of the star found down and to the left of the logo. And the diagonal lines in the other 2 blocks going in opposite directions, showing really nice contrast, making the piece that bit more interesting.

[on the left, red nose day 2019. on the right, sargent peppers lonely hearts club 1967]

Andy Warhol was an artist, producer and film director most known for being a key artist for the visual art movement, pop art. Flourishing in the 1960’s, Warhol explored themes such as the relationship between artistic expression, celebrity culture and advertising. Warhol created art using a wide spread of media, in particular he would be seen to be using photography, film, painting, but most importantly, silkscreening. The 1962 silkscreen painting ‘Campbell’s Soup Cans’ and ‘Marilyn Diptych’ are just two of Warhol’s most popular works. I really enjoy Warhol’s silkscreen prints of Queen Elizabeth produced from 1928-1987, as it’s quite rare to see the queen depicted in such a bold manner. As this print when the queen was younger, I think this print captures the Queen’s youth quite nicely in a number of different ways. With his use of bright colours making the piece more relatable to younger rather than seeing the queen In that very bland traditional setting. Warhol also captured the Queens youth by continuing to depict Queen Elizabeth the way he would depict an beautiful woman, not a dark circle, drop of acne or wrinkled forehead in sight presenting them how he felt society saw them, perfect. Having the Queens face this mostly flat white shade really keeps that main focus on her face and eyes, though our eyes are drawn across that piece with the small hints of yellow up in her hair and crown, and down to the blocks of yellow across the Queen’s chest and shoulder. I also find the dark blue line work really nice, as it’s not as harsh as black line work might be, making the overall piece softer. Also the fact that Warhol has not included the dark blue line work in the Queens crown makes the crown seem really delicate, as the crown surly would be.

[Queen Elizabeth, 1928-87. marilyn diptych, 1962]

After looking further into the screen printing process, artists and their work it has only reinforced why screen printing is a process that I very drawn to as I have see the sheer amount of different types of work that can be created with it. With Chuck Sperry I enjoy the complex layered designs that he achieves, something quite different to what I might create myself however I reminds me that a lot can be achieved with screen printing so seeing work like that can almost make me push my boundaries to see how far I can take the method myself. Blake and Warhol’s work is something that pushes me to screen printing bright bold colour blocking is something that I use in my own work so I often see myself taking inspiration for something something as simple as the colour of one of the works.

References

A brief history of screenprinting - Leicester Print Workshop

By Anon Year: 2019 Container: Leicesterprintworkshop.com URL: http://www.leicesterprintworkshop.com/printmaking/screenprinting/a_brief_history_of_screenprinting/

Silkscreen Printing: Serigraphy

By Anon Year: 2009 Container: Visual-arts-cork.com URL: http://www.visual-arts-cork.com/printmaking/screen-printing.htm

What is the difference between Serigraphy and Screen Printing?

By Wicked Blogger Year: 2019 Container: Wicked Screen Printing Supplies Blog URL: https://wickedprintingstuff.wordpress.com/2019/10/08/what-is-the-difference-between-serigraphy-and-screen-printing/

A Brief History of T-Shirt Screen Printing

By Anon Container: Everpress URL: https://everpress.com/creator-toolkit/a-brief-history-of-t-shirt-screen-printing/

*

* Chuck Sperry
By Anon Year: 2020 Container: Wikipedia URL: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chuck_Sperry


* Semele

* By Anon Year: 2020 Container: Wikipedia URL: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semele

Peter Blake (artist)

By Anon Year: 2020 Container: Wikipedia URL: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Blake_(artist)

* Out of Print: Pushing the Boundaries in the Art of Print Archives
By Anon Container: Chuck Sperry URL: https://chucksperry.net/tag/out-of-print-pushing-the-boundaries-in-the-art-of-print/

Andy Warhol

By Wikipedia Contributors Year: 2019 Container: Wikipedia Publisher: Wikimedia Foundation URL: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andy_Warhol

Widespread Panic Spring Tour 2013 Variant Editions

By Anon Year: 2013 Container: Chuck Sperry URL: https://chucksperry.net/widespread-panic-spring-tour-2013-variant-editions/

Peter Blake - Red Nose Day -- Screen Print, Comic, Pop Art by Peter Blake

By Anon Container: 1stDibs.com URL: https://www.1stdibs.co.uk/art/prints-works-on-paper/animal-prints-works-on-paper/peter-blake-red-nose-day-screen-print-comic-pop-art-peter-blake/id-a_4685372/

* Andy Warhol Queen Elizabeth Silkscreen Portrait Framed Print | #1831319151
By Anon Container: Worthpoint URL: https://www.worthpoint.com/worthopedia/andy-warhol-queen-elizabeth-1831319151


Marilyn Monroe Complete Portfolio

By Anon Container: Revolver Gallery URL: https://revolverwarholgallery.com/portfolio/marilyn-monroe-suite/

[reds-garder]

Fernand Khnopff (1858-1921) Incense [L'encens] 1898 Oil on canvas H. 86; W. 50 cm © RMN-Grand Palais (Musée) d'Orsay) / Hervé Lewandowski

Incense

Here, as he often did, Khnopff used his sister Marguerite as his model. The painting is close framed, with Marguerite set in the centre of his composition. Yet only her face, with its mysterious smile, and her gloved hands, are visible. The rest of her body is hidden beneath sumptuous clothing – the lower part of the picture is completely taken over by the folds of a heavy cope of precious brocade. Thus, the fabric, and all that it conceals, becomes the principal subject of this painting. In the earlier paintings, Marguerite appears in a long, white, cotton dress, with a blue scarf around her head, or wearing a dark, silk dress. But Khnopff had never previously covered his sister's body to this extent. The embroidered silk, with its stylised thistle motif, extends to almost half of the painted surface of the picture. Is the painter trying to protect his model by covering her like this, in the same way as the thistles are protecting her? Whatever the case, he manages to imbue his work with a further enigma. His limited colours, shades of brown, also reinforce the strangeness of work, as do the contrasts between the rich details in the foreground, and the indistinct shapes in a background bathed in light. The painting is still in its original wooden frame, designed by the artist. On the top section, the inscription "DEO DEI" echoes other references to Christ in the painting, like the halo behind Marguerite. In Incense, Khnopff has added an esoteric dimension, making it one of the great masterpieces of European symbolism.

[shuheiohmori]

Podcast Planning: Supporting objects!

Anthony and Rachel Barcley hosted a lecture talking about the tips of podcast. One of the tips they’ve mentioned is to bring the supporting objects to deepen my analysis. Therefore, I wanted to try comparing the Ram Dao sword with other Hinduism-related, specifically, Kali-related objects and paintings. As my previous research suggests that the ram dao sword is highly associated with Hindu Goddess Kali. This is clearly evident in the paintings of Kali below [DUROM. U. 10346.31];

[DUROM. U10346.31]

Title: 

Kalimata prints (ink printed onto paper)

Author: J. B. Khanna & Co.

Creation date: 21st century

Description: Image of the Hindu deity Kali stood on top of her consort Shiva, within a green circle with two men placed either side of it. Kali has blue skin, long flowing black hair, a third eye on her forehead and her tongue sticking out below her chin. She wears a gold and bejewelled crown, necklace, bracelets, armlets, anklets and rings. In this depiction she has four arms each holding an object at the end. From the p. lower right side going clockwise she holds a silver trident, a curved sword with blood on the blade, a severed head and a bowl, which the blood from the severed head drips into. She has one foot resting on the body of Shiva and the other is resting on the ground, to her p. left side there stands a small wolf or dog. Shiva is depicted laying on the ground with his eyes shut and one hand up in the air in a supplicant gesture whilst the other holds a small double sided drum. He is naked except for a leopard print loincloth about his waist, brown beads around his neck and wrists and a Brahman thread around his torso. On his forehead are three white horizontal bands that are placed over a third eye, his hair is long, brown and in a partial top knot with a crescent moon next to the knot. There is a hooded cobra around his neck and smaller snakes around his arms - referred to as Naga in Hindu mythology. The sky behind Kali is red, orange and pink whilst the ground is lush and green. This whole image is placed within a circle that is decorated with green petal like shapes at the edges - possibly meant to resemble a Kali yantra. At the bottom of the print are two unidentified men. On the left is a man with dark hair, bushy beard and large front teeth. He wears a white garment draped across the torso from the shoulder. On the left is a male wearing a gold turban, gold tunic and white shirt underneath, he is clean shaven with a small amount of brown hair visible under the turban. Blue wave patterns seperate the two individuals and the background behing them is purple in colour. The whole print is surrounded by a cream border with the title of 'Kali Mata - 134' written underneath it, with the printer information of J. B. Khanna & Co. in the left corner.

Dimensions: length 357 mm; width 267 mm Physical Description: ink printed onto paper

Material: materials – fiber products – Paper

Object number: DUROM.U10346.31

Production place: Asia – South Asia – India

People depicted: Kali; Shiva; Naga

Production period: 21st century

My Comments below in Bold;

Notice the left side of the painting. Kali has a round-shaped sword covered with blood. As the one ancient Sanskrit Text describes that Kali thirsts for blood of sacrifice, which is primarily goats, buffalo and ghouls and often men. Thus, goat after goat are led to the stake and decapitated by a large Brahman with a single powerful stroke. Here, on the left of the painting, Kali has a sword with blood and she has a necklace of men’s heads. The sacrificed men’s heads and sword, we can safely state that this sword possessed by Kali is strongly associated with sacrifice, and a sacrificial sword is a ram dao; therefore, the sword Kali has can be identified as a ram dao sword. Due to the small numbers of research on the Ram Dao sword itself and symbolism about it is available on JSTOR and the Bill Bryson Library, I will mainly talk about Goddess Kali and its role in Hindu context, then try to reach the main discussion of the symbolism of a ram dao. In doing so, I will pay attention how Goddess Kali has been described by looking at the several paintings of Kali. 

Podcast Ideas;

From this painting, I can talk about the basic Kali’s characteristics as a Goddess in Hindu context. Why and How Kali is originated, what sort of role she used to have, and how these roles have been changing over the era. I can talk about how east and west see Kali differently, which possibly leads listeners into the Said’s “Orientalism” discussion!

[DUROM. U10346.46]

Title: prints (ink printed onto paper)

Author: Sharma, B. G.; Sharma Picture Publication

Creation date: 21st Century

Description: mage of the vengeful goddess Kali standing on her consort Shiva. Kali has blue skin, four arms and long flowing black hair down to the knees. A third eye is depicted on her forehead and she is shown with her tongue sticking out. On top of her head she wears a gold crown, which is shown with many jewels and a crescent moon, which is the symbol of her consort Shiva. She has a halo surrounding her head. In her lower right hand there is a silver coloured trident. In her upper right hand she holds a bloodied curved sword. In her upper left hand she holds a severed demon head, dripping with blood, which is filling a bowl in her lower right hand. She is adorned with several necklaces, one of which is adorned with multiple severed human heads. Her skirt is made of pearls and human arms. She also wears bangles and bracelets at the end of each arm and on her feet. Shiva is shown as asthetic Shiva, with long flowing hair with a crescent moon on the side of his head, three white lines across his forehead, light blue skin and snakes around his neck and arms. He is naked apart from a leopard skin loincloth about the waist. In his right hand he holds a drum. Simple beads are around his wrists and neck. Shiva lies on green grass with flowers but in the background there is a scene of destruction, blood, skeletons, human body parts and fighting scenes. In the lower left corner is the signature 'B. G. Sharma'. Surrounding the image is a cream border on which is printed a possible title written in an Indian script along with publisher information. In the lower right corner is a publisher symbol of a female silhouette with the word Bombay written below it.

Dimensions: length 504mm; width 359mm

Physical Description: ink printed onto paper

Materal: fibre products – paper

Comments

Here, I can introduce the core story of Goddess Kali, which is stepping onto her husband, Shiva. This image is particularly important for the West hence it is sometimes used by the contemporary feminism as a poster to empower women.

[DUROM.U10346.1]

Title: Prints (ink printed onto paper)

Creation date: 21st century

Description: Image of the goddess Kali, in the stylistic design typical of North East India. She is depicted with a completely black face with her long tongue stiking out past her chin, she has a third eye on her forehead, small blue ears and a piercing to her nose. On her head she wears a golden, bejewelled crown with white petals or flower buds hanging from the top. She wears a long red sari with a gold border and gold flower detail, a garland of pink lotus flowers around her neck and a garland made up of severed human male heads. She has four arms, the two on the p. right side are bare and face the viewer in a supplicant gesture, the p. upper left arm holds a curved sword with blood on the blade and an eye painted here too, the p. lower left hand is holding a severed demon head. She is stood in an archway with blue, swirled pillars, a red, green, orange and gold archway with Indian symbols within the niches. At the top of the archway is a yellow and orange dome with two individuals inside, possible a male and a female in identical seated postures facing to the p. left. There is a golden bgejewelled umbrella over the head of Kali. In front of the deity a puja is being carried out by a male and female devotee. The male is sat on a red and yellow may and wears a brown garment wrapped around his shoulders, orange trousers and a white Brahman thread. In his hands he offers a small posy of flowers to the goddess. There is a small golden bell near to his knee. The woman is wearing an orange sari with red border and a green top with gold detail. In her p. left hand she appears to be holding a wicker fan and in the p. right hand she is holding a stick of incence. The offerings to the deity consists mostly of food stuffs including fruit, fish, sweets and rice, all of which are presented on bronze offering trays. There is a bronze coloured vessel situated near to the female devotee that has white billowing smoke coming from it. There is also a lit deya lamp here and a bronze vessel with flowers and foliage surrounding it nearest to the goddess. In the lower left corner of the image there is an unidentifiable signature. The print is surrounded by a cream border with the publisher information in either corner and the title in an Indian script underneath the print.

Dimensions: Length 360mm; width 249mm

Physical Description: ink printed onto paper

Material: fibre products – paper

Comments:

I can talk about the role of Kali’s tongue [tantric tongue], and masculinity from this image. Associated with the phallic symbol of Kali’s tongue, I can talk about the recent Kali’s role in Western feminism movement.

Deriving from here, I can also talk about the symbol of lotus, which sometimes played as a female vagina in Hindu context. I have found a lotus motif on my ram dao sword [see picture below], so try keep revealing the meanings of lotus flower and the rational of putting lotus flower onto the blade.

[DUROM.2018.10]

Title: Statue of the Goddess Kali figurines (Statue of the Goddess Kali, encased in a ring, atop an oval base)

Creation date: 1900-2000; 20th century

Description: Statue of Shiva in Nataraja form. The figure of Shiva stands on a dwarf like figure (apasmara purusha) representing ignorance and the illusion, which leads mankind astray. The god holds in his upper right hand the damaru (hand drum that made the first sounds of creation). His upper left hand holds agni (the fire that will destroy the universe). With his lower right hand, wrapped in a snake, he makes abhayamudra (the gesture that allays fear). Shiva's front left hand, pointing to his raised left foot, signifies refuge for the troubled soul. His matted or dreadlock style hair flows out form behind his head as he dances. Around him is a circle of stylised flames representing the fires of creation and he stands on a lotus pedestal

Dimensions: Base: diameter 125mm, Ring: diameter 222mm, Whole Object: height 305mm

Material: Language-related concepts – Lio – Brass

Comments:

Through this object, I can talk about the life/death image of Kali and a connection of Eastern way of thinking life/death, in relation to Tao. [This is what I call ‘the circle of life’] I can also pick up the fact that Goddess Kali in West had been merely seem as a ‘primitive’, and ‘grotesque’ God because a) Goddess Kali is originated in marginalised area of the Hindu place, b) Goddess Kali’s grotesque image, i.e. covered with blood, always thirst for the semen of demon and the blood of sacrifice, Kali’s black skin colour. In other words, Goddess Kali had been misunderstood by the West. From this analysis, I can talk about Said’s “Orientalism”.

[itsworn]

Purists Beware: This LS-Swapped Corvette LT-1 was Built to Carve Corners

Over the years, the Chevrolet Corvette somehow became affiliated with a phenomenon known as a midlife crisis, but back when it was introduced in 1953, these sporty coupes appealed to a much younger demographic. The Corvette’s performance capabilities increased rapidly in its early years, and the endorsement of the second generation of this machine by some of our nation’s famous astronauts helped rocket the vehicle’s popularity to stratospheric levels. By the time the third generation rolled off the factory floor—with its sharp, angular styling resembling a mako shark—Chevrolet’s halo performance offering had arguably become one of the most collected cars in automotive history.

The car earned the nickname “Rambo” because it’s big and wide and looks like it means business. Notice the grille on the right side is a little crooked after an altercation with a cone.

Enter Garrett Randall, who sports flannels and flat-bill hats, rather than jean shorts and white tennis shoes. At age 29, Garrett brings a wrinkle-free complexion to the Corvette owner’s club of Simi Valley, California. He grew up being heavily influenced by the flourishing car culture around him, a sentiment that was reinforced by his father’s 1972 Pantera in their garage. He was hooked on classic cars at any early age. By just 14, he had restored his first car, a 1967 Camaro, with the help of his father, Lefty Randall, and family friend Mike Fennel. A few years later, after seeing a couple magazine stories about Optima’s search for the Ultimate Street Car, he attended an event to see what it was all about. He was hooked and immediately wanted to build a car to autocross. Like most people, road-course racing was intimidating to someone who didn’t have much experience on a racetrack, but autocross really intrigued him because of the sport’s accessibility and minimal risk of damage to the car.

Garrett Randall wheels Rambo around autocross courses like it’s a rented mule and not a car that would look equally at home in the show-and-shine section at Holley’s LS Fest West.

So Garrett built his (at the time) El Camino to start carving the cones, but found that without fully reworking the car, it really wasn’t suited for the small constraints of most autocross courses. He then hatched a plan to build a different car that would allow him to be more competitive. While buying a late-model performance car would have probably been the most financially responsible and quickest way to get a car that would perform well, the idea didn’t sit right with Garrett, who told us, “I can appreciate new cars, but I’m really just not that into them. There’s some really cool, newer stuff out there, but I really like the vintage stuff.” That ideology ultimately led to the thought of buying a C3 Corvette due to their extensive racing heritage, lightweight fiberglass body, and having an independent rear suspension that provides a solid foundation to create a vintage car that can handle.

Look at how wide the rear of this car is with 335 tires tucked inside the massive fender flares designed and built by Cris Gonzales at JCG Restorations and Customs.

After some time searching for the proper candidate on Craigslist, Garrett found a 1971 C3 in Austin, Texas. A few phone calls and a video chat tour of the car later, he bought it sight unseen and shipped it to California. Garrett had noticed some noteworthy cars at the Optima events coming out of Cris Gonzales’ shop, JCG Restorations and Customs in Oxnard, California, so he decided to take the Corvette to him to be built into the track-ready machine he imagined. As fate would have it, Cris actually had a Pro Touring 1970 C3 of his own that he was planning to rework into an even more serious track machine. Randall started negotiations to buy most of the old parts off that car, and after sitting down together to run the numbers, Cris explained that, with all the labor, it would probably make more sense for Garrett to buy his car and sell the other one. They struck a deal and got started turning the much-further-along project into the machine Garrett had envisioned.

This thing looks so killer rolling down the road with a stance that most would consider too low. Sure, the exhaust might scrape from time to time, but it’s a small price to pay to look this good.

Fair warning: If you’re a dedicated member of the National Corvette Restorers Society, you may want to skip over the next few sentences. The car Garrett purchased from Cris happened to be a real-deal LT-1 car complete with the Protect-O-Plate and the numbers-matching engine and transmission still hanging around, though not installed. If the thought of modifying this car at all offends your sensibilities, take solace in knowing the original owners flared the fenders and raced it in the early 1970s, so any perceived blasphemy was committed a long time ago.

The custom flares flow so nicely with the body lines, unlike so many of the aftermarket units people buy to slap on their cars, and the custom rocker panels ties the front and back together so well.

With his background being focused more on restoration than customization, Cris had never intended to cut the car up because of the relatively rare set of factory options. Garrett agreed with the notion, so the frame was left original but upgraded with Van Steel control arms up front, a quick-ratio ARG steering box, custom JCG sway bars front and rear, and JRi coilover shocks on all four corners. For stopping power, they went with Wilwood Superlite six-piston calipers with 13-inch rotors in the front and four-piston calipers with 12.88-inch rotors in the rear, all being worked by a manual Wilwood master cylinder. Included with the car was a set of wheels Garrett never expected to be able to afford: GA3R Forgelines. The front runners were 11.5 inches wide wrapped in 315 series BFGoodrich G-Force Rival S rubber with 335 series tires mounted on a 12.5-inch-wide wheels out back.

Everything about this car is just right, especially the way the BFGoodrich Rival S tires wrapped around the Forgeline GA3R wheels fill the wheelwells of this classic ride.

For power, Garrett took a practical approach, forgoing excessive horsepower for driveability. An LS6 built by Mullinex Racing Engines was already under the hood, sporting a mild cam and an upgraded valvetrain to help it live at higher rpm. To it, they added a T56 six-speed manual transmission, which sends power through a custom aluminum driveshaft to the original rear end that was stuffed with an Eaton posi unit and 3.73:1 gears. To keep the fluids happy during flogging sessions at the track, a custom Ron Davis radiator was fitted, a Moroso oil accumulator was added along with a baffled C5 ZO6 oil pan, power steering and engine oil coolers were put in place, and some custom Trackspec-inspired hood vents were dropped in the factory hood. JCG built a custom aluminum fuel cell that prevents fuel starvation when cornering and installed a factory ZL1 Camaro fuel-pump assembly before plumbing the car with VaporWorx lines and fittings. The engine breathes through a K&N cold-air intake and exhales through a set of Kooks headers and into a stainless exhaust built by JCG with custom Borla mufflers. Keeping with the simplistic approach, a factory ECU was used to control the engine and HP Tuners software was utilized to maintain a reliable 450 hp.

Under the hood is a mildly built LS6 with an upgraded cam and heads assembled by Mullinex Racing Engines, putting out a reliable and snappy 450 hp.

Inside the car, the original interior was in surprisingly good shape, so there wasn’t much done to update it other than putting in a Kirkey seat on the driver side with an RCI harness, an aftermarket steering column capped off with a Sparco steering wheel, a stock gas pedal modified to make heel-and-toe braking easier, and AutoMeter gauges inserted in the factory locations. Prior to Garrett purchasing the car, Cris had cut out a rollcage that made getting in and out of the car much too difficult. In its place, he fabricated a rollbar that doubled as a harness attachment point behind the seats.

Inside the car really doesn’t look all that different from stock, with only the driver seat, a custom column and steering wheel, and AutoMeter gauges differing from what Chevy put in at the factory in 1970.

To complete the car’s exterior, JCG finished installing of the one-off flares that Cris designed to flow with the body lines. Everyone seems to put side pipes on these cars, but the thought of burning his legs and the drone of the exhaust on the road made Garrett scrap the set that was installed. Instead, Cris made custom rocker panels to fill the void where the side pipes used to be. He also made an aluminum rear diffuser to clean up air under the car at speed and cover up the area that used to house the spare tire. At this point, the car went to Ed Palmer at Kundensport, a shop normally known for turning out quality Porsche restorations. Ed sprayed the custom color based on Dodge F8 Green that Garrett spotted on a new Challenger at the Los Angeles Auto Show. With some gold pearl in the mix, the dynamic finish highlights the angular surfaces of the car. Aided by his years of experience with curvy Porsche fenders, Ed expertly laid down a show-quality paint job that turned out so nice that Garrett had Brian Vaccaro at Impression Auto Salon wrap nearly the entire car in SunTek protective film to preserve the paint during the thrashing that was sure to come.

Unless you look at the car closely, you would have no way of knowing the entire car has been wrapped in a protective film to preserve the high-quality paint job laid down by Ed Palmer at Kundensport.

Despite building this beautiful Corvette on a relatively limited budget, it turned out far nicer than Garrett ever anticipated. Even though he’s a little more careful with it than his other cars, he drives this Corvette regularly, because that was his plan from the start. Many Vette owners keep their cars tucked away in their garages like a collectible baseball card stuck inside a plastic sleeve, but Garrett believes stock is boring and cars are meant to be driven—and driven hard.

The Wilwood Superlite six-piston brakes and 13-inch rotors tucked behind those beautiful Forgeline wheels are a perfect match that really enhances the overall look and performance of this machine.

It’s all business under the hood, with little done in the way of aesthetics just like most cars that are built to be driven. Hiding in front of the serpentine-belt system is a Moroso oil accumulator to help the engine maintain oil pressure under heavy cornering.

The addition of gold pearl in the Dodge F8 Green makes this a really unique car to photograph. In various different lights, it seems to change color.

The post Purists Beware: This LS-Swapped Corvette LT-1 was Built to Carve Corners appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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