#tolkien patch project

[san-sews-seams]

True to character, the Luthien design is beautiful and was a real pain in the butt.

[lissomelace]

Ok, so I failed at working on my other projects.

Here's Finrod's emblem:

And in machine embroidery:

I'm pleased with it, although it took a bit of trial and error to get out (bloopers under the cut!). I do need to adjust the first black border. And I didn't have a great shade of green. I do like this green for some things, but here it's somehow giving me "sports team jersey" vibes. A green that's lighter and more yellow would be better.

Gotta say, I'm kind of having to resist scaling these down and doing...some kind of sash, I guess. Like a girl scout badge thing, but with elvish heraldry. Silm scouts!

(I never got past brownies, but my vaguely neurodivergent kid self did love the badges, and the way they all lined up and interlocked!)

Patch done with cotton brothread and YLI bobbin thread on linen, on a Brother SE630 machine. Digitized with Embrilliance. Original design by Tolkien.

Trial one, entitled Maybe I Should Cool It With The Satin Stitch Borders (and switch away from cotton canvas). Also, guess I have to start paying attention to my stitch density (sigh).

Trial two, titled Oh, That's Actually Looking Okay--

--Whoops:

(trying to fix that stitch density issue by making every bit of the torch flame a hole in the green field was a Problem)

[saintstars]

A seduction of Mairon fanfic set in the Years of the Lamps and Almaren's golden age...Mairon and Melkor keep meeting and clashing during the Feast of Horns Festival

Rating: Explicit

sexual content, violence, blood, dubious consent, mutual maiming, enemies to enemies who fuck to married

Words: 30,282

Chapters: 17/17

Relationships: Melkor/Mairon, Eonwe/Mairon, Gothmog/Melkor, Gothmog/Eonwe, Osse/ Mairon, Osse/Uinen

read it now on ao3 sample under the cut

The third time he runs the hunt, Mairon grows great curving horns for himself and plays as hunter, waiting for the second sounding of Valaróma to launch after his prey. 

In time the Ainur will come to make plans with their desired partners but it is still early days and disordered revelry. Even so, Mairon has designs on Eönwë, noting the proud maia has draped his wings in golden chains. With the rules against flight he will likely be an easier target and it would be a delight to defeat the herald of Manwë himself and claim his favour. 

Mairon has learned from his past experiences too; those who seek to chase Yavanna’s host will quickly find themselves on the back foot in her own forests. His first Feast of Horns is most memorable for that lesson. 

Oromë sounds his horn again and Mairon takes off with the other hunters, noting the many fire maiar that have chosen this side of the chase. All the better to disorient their quarry. They fly like sparks, blazing into the greenery. 

Mairon burns bright with power to close the gap with the hunted, seeking out pale feathers in the light- rippled undergrowth. 

His fellow hunters slip ever further from view, each of them finding their own path. Tilion glimmers under every patch of light, his horns adorned with great swirls of silver. With all his adornments he is as likely to be confused for the hunted as the hunter. Mairon smiles to think of the kind of trouble he will soon find himself in. 

He is among the hunted now and cries ring out as hiding places are discovered and the chase becomes more intimate, more personal. He cannot see Eönwë anywhere around.

Mairon races on through the forest, scanning for his particular prey. He comes suddenly from shade into the light. 

A clearing, bright sky under the Lamps. Mairon turns his face into the unfiltered light, basking for a moment. Eönwë too would likely gravitate to the open spaces like this, rather than skulk in the cover of the trees. 

Mairon pauses, knowing more than simple speed is needed now. 

Movement flickers at the corner of his vision, and he gets the sense he is being watched. 

[cantsayidont]

For anyone who's keen on the Peter Jackson LORD OF THE RINGS movies and has had difficulty getting into the book, I really highly recommend Phil Dragash's Soundscape LOTR project, an unofficial, unabridged audiobook with music and sound effects from the film soundtracks. (Because it's unauthorized, you can't buy it, but it's around if you look on the interwebs.)

Dragash is a very good voice actor — so good that the retention of "he said" type dialogue markers is sometimes jarring — and captures the characters very well (although he mostly recites rather than sings the songs). Every so often he stumbles on the pronunciation of a word (curiously, more often real ones than Tolkien's constructed ones — for instance, in Bilbo's song of Earendil, "mariner" becomes "mareener"), but that's also true of the authorized audiobook readers. The Dragash version is clearly superior to both the 1990 audiobook by Robert Inglis (Inglis sings, but his performance of the characters is often stuffy) and the recent 2021 Andy Serkis version (Serkis is a wonderful actor, but some of the characters are beyond his range, and he sometimes seems daunted by Tolkien's poetic constructions). The main downside is that because the Soundscape project is a labor of love done without benefit of professional audio mixing tools, the music can occasionally drown out the narration; Dragash has redone several of the chapters over the years to address this.

Dragash's audio version is a good bridge for people coming from the films, since it's informed by them (in the performance of the characters as well as in the music), but as an unabridged adaptation, it restores excised subplots and flattened characterization, while capturing the sweep of Tolkien's language.

I now prefer it to the two modern audio dramatizations of LOTR: The 1979 Mind's Eye version, adapted by James Arrington (who also plays Gandalf), is essentially an abridged audiobook with multiple voice actors; Arrington is excellent as Gandalf, but the rest of the cast, drawn from local community theater, is not, making it a very mixed bag. The 1981/1982 BBC radio version, adapted by Brian Sibbery and Michael Bakewell (initially as 26 half-hour episodes, later reedited to 13 hour-long installments), is generally very good, with Ian Holm and Bill Nighy outstanding as Frodo and Sam and Michael Hordern a fine Gandalf (although I think Arrington better captured Gandalf's prickliness). However, not all the actors are of the same caliber (Jack May as Théoden isn't a patch on Bernard Hill); the clever idea of presenting the Battle of the Pelénnor Fields as a medieval ballad (by Oz Clarke and the Ambrosian Singers) ends up being hard to decipher; the transformation of narrative exposition to dialogue works in some spots and not others; and the inevitable abridgements are painful if you're familiar with the full text. I certainly wouldn't discourage anyone from the BBC version, and at 12½ hours, it's not much longer than the extended versions of the films, but it's no longer the gold standard for Tolkien audio.

[sauron-kraut]

Summary: Mairon has killed for the first time.

Written for this wonderfully eerie work by my dearest @lvsifer (art blog @summeringminor) that I am totally in love with. Another spontaneous drabble that I, once again, wrote at the office (Yes, I'm also posting from my work computer. Again.). It's just where the inspiration strikes for me.

Go look at my lovely friend's art! 🖤

Warnings: mild gore, blood

catharsis / first kill

Mairon smiled a serene smile as he made his way through twilight and patches of high rising night flowers.

It had been easy.

Gore clung to his cascading hair.

He plucked at his light garment, made for sleeping and now adorned with wet streaks of bright red. Mairon looked at his hands, covered in blood and remnants of another's skin. A creator's hands in love with destruction. Hands that were shaking with thrill.

Absently, he licked his fingers.

Mairon walked faster, his gown catching on branches and thorns.

For the first time in his entire existence, Mairon felt utterly free.

[whovianofmidgard]

New chapter is up now!

Ch. 8.: The Myth: Spark of Defiance

Rumour said among the many warring factions of Rhûn that strange fires and bright lights came from the lands of Mordor. It left ruined structures, torn down walls and destruction in its wake. Those loyal to the strengthening Dark Lord explained it away as experiments of some new weapon or magics far beyond their mortal comprehension and ordered their people not to question it further. The small factions who heeded the Blue Wizards’ advice thought it a strike against the Enemy by an unknown source.   

The Haradrim to the south of Mordor spoke of a creature of flame, a being of terrible power roaming the deserts and often seen entering or leaving the borders of that dark country. The men of Harad were divided in their beliefs just as in their allegiance, some warning of fell demons come to burn their villages and steal their people, while others preached of their god’s divine intervention and beings of holy fire.  

These were mere fractions of rumour that slipped past the Black Gate. Within the bounds of the Shadow orcs clamoured to build defences and precautions, scrambling to patch up what little was destroyed. The lesser scum of too deformed orcs, the trolls they kept for heavy labour, and the slaves kept for dirty work were all pushed to their limits, taking on twice the amount of gruelling work.   

None could quite agree on who or what the flaming creature was. The young orcs who were fed the tales of their Lord’s and his Master’s might from long Ages past theorised that perhaps a balrog (a great being of shadow and flame that for them was just another legend of old) was somehow redeemed and acted on some unknown revenge. Others who tenuously recalled bits and pieces of the Elder Days said that it must be the ghost of a once powerful elven king whose inner fire was so great it consumed his body, and he now had come to haunt them.  

Regardless of what it truly was, the being of fire struck fear in the hearts of Sauron’s foul creatures, and though none would know, mention of it even made the Dark Lord himself pause.  

Read the rest on Ao3

[thewhynotpod]

Welcome to Why Not?!, Episode 6: “The Full Mufasa”! In this episode we dig into our first solo adventures with the team members. And y’all officially meet one of our team members, Chris’s cat Athena. https://thewhynotpod.com/ep-6-the-full-mufasa/

In this episode, Chris:

has issues with���hair

really thinks oil companies need to rethink their Canadian projects

compares Stan the Man to J Jonah…on an Alpha Flight podcast

and Tom:

lays out the existential grounding of the narc

thinks Byrne really borrowed from Tolkien in issue 6

agrees that Snowbird is likely the least…complicated of the team

and that Shaman could crush it in the Instagram/fitness influencer field

Issues covered:

Alpha Flight #5 – What Fools These Mortals Be – cover date December 1983 Written and drawn by John Byrne Inked by John Byrne and Terry Austin Colored by Andy Yanchus Lettered by Tom Orzechowski Edited by Denny O’Neil and Jim Shooter

Alpha Flight #6 – Snowlbind! – cover date January 1984 [all the same as issue 5 except!: Lettered by Michael HIggins, Edited by Linda Grant]

Issue 5 is a focus story on Puck as he recovers from his unexpected surgery vis-a-vis Marrina’s claws and stumbles across…well, just listen to the episode. (NB: we totally miss making a point of the Shakespearean reference in both Puck’s name and the issue title: we’ll do better, promise.)

Issue 6 focuses on Snowbird and includes a very, very smart artistic choice.

The backup feature for both issues tells the origin story of everyone’s favorite Canadian doctor (eat it Langowski!): Michael Twoyoungmen aka Shaman! Who gets hit with a full Mufasa.

And we’re starting to include some outtakes! So please listen to the end for a peak behind the curtain.

We’ve had a lot of fun making this and we really do hope you enjoy it, too. And even if you don’t, a great rating and review costs you nothing. Literally nothing. Not even five seconds, right? Less time than it takes Guardian to cross Canada. (Still can’t believe they did the math that…wrong.)

Check us out at The Why Not Pod to leave us a comment; we love to (try to) answer your questions about Alpha Flight!

Special thanks to the Excelsior Embroidery Co. for helping make this project a reality.  Here’s this episode’s Featured Design: the Shaman face patch! You can see this and more at the GeekCraft Expo in St. Louis on July 27 and 28.  Mention the podcast and Chris will have something nice for you.  

Follow us on these platforms:

Instagram

TikTok

Imgur

[dalliansss]

Hanno Chapter 9

Well, better to stay alone in Finno’s house than be in Ingoldo’s house, Egg thinks spitefully. Things have not been going well between him and his elder brother; the rough patches of adolescence, so to speak – where Egg wanted many things at once but did not quite know how to go for the things he wants – and yet at the same time, going for things he did want put him in constant friction with Ingoldo. Everything of his person is being criticized: from how he uses this box bean hair oil that Atyarussa recommended (“It fucking stinks!” Ingoldo snarls.); how he dresses (“You can NOT combine such bright reds with such bright blues, are you colorblind?! AI!” Ingoldo hisses.); how he goes home near every night piss drunk as if Ingoldo does not do the same (“I will NOT mop up your Eru-forsaken vomit! Clean it yourself!” Ingoldo howls.); and how Ingoldo disapproves of him seeing Manyariel of the Noldor (“Have you seen how shifty her eyes are?! Opportunistic little wench!” Ingoldo cries.)

[medicinemane]

So I'm transcribing Leaf by Niggle cause if you've read it it's pretty obvious why I need it in my minecraft world (10 pages in minecraft and I'm almost half way through the first page... Tolkien isn't making it easy on me with his long ass sentences)

Honestly it's making me kinda tear up cause he ain't subtle about what this is a metaphor for (I mean he is, it's just obvious knowing who wrote it)

Just uh... you know who he was writing about, you know what the painting is, it's just a deeply personal story in a lot of ways

"He had a number of pictures on hand; most of them were too large and ambitious for his skill. He was the sort of painter who can paint leaves better than trees. He used to spend a long time on a single leaf, trying to catch its shape, and its sheen, and the glistening of dewdrops on its edges. Yet he wanted to paint a whole tree, with all of its leaves in the same style, and all of them different.

There was one picture in particular which bothered him. It had begun with a leaf caught in the wind, and it became a tree; and the tree grew, sending out innumerable branches, and thrusting out the most fantastic roots. Strange birds came and settled on the twigs and had to be attended to. Then all round the Tree, and behind it, through the gaps in the leaves and boughs, a country began to open out; and there were glimpses of a forest marching over the land, and of mountains tipped with snow. Niggle lost interest in his other pictures; or else he took them and tacked them on to the edges of his great picture. Soon the canvas became so large that he had to get a ladder; and he ran up and down it, putting in a touch here, and rubbing out a patch there. When people came to call, he seemed polite enough, though he fiddled a little with the pencils on his desk. He listened to what they said, but underneath he was thinking all the time about his big canvas, in the tall shed that had been built for it out in his garden (on a plot where once he had grown potatoes)."

(I haven't even finished getting this in the book, I'm at "rubbing out a patch there.")

Like it couldn't be more clear he's talking about himself and his fears around if he could even finish LotR. Like every last line in this couldn't be more obvious what he's talking about

Anyway though, you see why I need to have this in my minecraft world

I really wanted to just copy paste it into something that would format it for me, but... not only could I not find the program I was gonna use, but the more I thought about it the more... this is kinda almost a translation job, in that the format is so different from a normal book that I'm having to take a monster paragraph like that and turn it into something that fits nicely in the book... pick when and where to break stuff up

I just can't trust that to a program, even a really well made one. They'll tell me what fits... they won't tell me what reads well and keeps the spirit when I can no longer truly show what was meant to be one paragraph

...plus, I gotta say that I think transcribing stuff kinda forces me to read stuff in more detail, focus on every word and the exact word choices they made not the ones my brain wants to use (like "a country began to open out", I read it as "open up", but "open out" gives a totally different visual even if it means the same thing... and I have to pay attention to that to transcribe it right)

Think this is a good project though... not sure if anyone'll ever read anything I do end up transcribing, but again I think reading in a minecraft book changes how you're gonna interact with it and... while I'll only get the transcription side most likely, hopefully it'll be cool... at least in theory

[shrikeseams]

I wanna do a patch in pride colors based off "the thought of their ancient friendship stung his heart" and I'm stuck on what the heck I could do as a visual.

[san-sews-seams]

So, once upon a time @youareunbearable referred to Amrod and Amras as "my little burnt sweet potatoes" and it's been living rent-free in my head ever since.

...That's it. That's the only defense I've got.

[theoppositeofprofound]

Thinking about cyberpunk/steampunk/retrofuturist Tolkien elves again. I think that they deserve blimps! I think that they deserve to invent trains, have Balrog flashbacks, and banish trains to the Underground. I think that they get real into the potential of AI for a little bit (Aulë admits he’s been trying to crack it for ages but when have they let the failure of the gods stop them). Until then, creepy 18th century automatons! Clockwork animatronics! Imagine them equipped with solar powered biplanes. Not even regular planes, biplanes are enough to wreck havoc. Imagine the windmills. Imagine the hydroelectric projects in Alqualondë. Imagine tragicomic space exploration attempts to get to the other side of their (still flat) patch of earth.

[frosticenow]

Young Man's Fancy was Turned into the Spring

Chapter 5

We are back in the modern world for this chapter (every fourth chapter will be back in Arda)!

I will not have much internet this week so I will be delayed in responding to comments on Tumblr and AO3. There have been so many amazing comments. I am totally blown away by how kind you all have been!! So many of your comments make my day or my week and bring a smile to my face!!! I cannot thank you enough.

I also want to thank @rosasynstylae for being a great beta. (also check out her fics they are great, she just uploaded two new fics. If you are a fan of cabbage patch hobbits you have got to check them out!)

Rating: M

Tags: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Pre-Canon, Strangers to Lovers, Tolkien boy in the Modern World, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Cultural Differences, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf Courting, Hair Braiding, Blue Mountains | Ered Luin, Jewish Character, Pesach | Passover, Jewish Holidays, Canada, Past Sexual Assault, Meddling Valar, Dwarf/Human Relationship(s), Dwarven beauty standards, Angst, Pre-Quest of Erebor, Slow Burn, Gratuitous use of Khudzul

Summary: Fíli son of Víli and Dís, brother to Kíli and sister-son and heir to Thorin Oakenshield has gone missing without a trace. While his family in the Blue Mountains mourn him, the young prince finds himself in a world different from the one he has always known.

[sauron-kraut]

Summary: Mairon has something to show to Ar-Pharazôn. Will it convince the king to trust in his abilities to grant eternal life?

But the fear of death grew ever darker upon them, and they delayed it by all means that they could; and they began to build great houses for their dead, while their wise men laboured unceasingly to discover if they might the secret of recalling life, or at the least of the prolonging of Men’s days. Yet they achieved only the art of preserving incorrupt the dead flesh of Men, and they filled all the land with silent tombs in which the thought of death was enshrined in the darkness. - Akallabêth

Pairing: Mairon x Ar-Pharazôn

Words: 763

Warnings: referenced character death, necromancy, general creepiness

As always: If you like this little piece, comments on AO3 are appreciated! 🖤

Not beta read!

Find it here under the cut.

Forever

“Come.” The Maia holds out his hand to Ar-Pharazôn. His silhouette slowly blends into the darkening sky, the trees and the grassy hillside he is standing on, as lines and figures blur in dusk progressing to blue twilight. Ar-Pharazôn takes it. Mairon's hand is slender and warm and smaller than his.  “Where are we going?” “I wish to show you something, my king.”

Through patches of dark forest and clearings heavy and ripe with a dying summer, Mairon leads him up, up, by the hand, and Ar-Pharazôn might think him a phantom, a spirit of old in the woods, if his palm weren’t so warm against his. Ar-Pharazôn’s heartbeat quickens as they continue to ascend the mountain slope.  Where is the Maia leading him? And what could exceed the wonders he has already shown him?

When they leave the trees behind, Ar-Pharazôn recognizes where they are headed. They follow the small gravel road before them, which will bend around the mountain’s flank, then broaden and give birth to the vast grounds where his ancestors lie in death looking like eternal slumber. His people long to defeat dying, yet only defeat rot. Mairon has let go of his hand, walks the narrow path ahead, calm, searching. Eventually, they arrive at the plateau, where last blue and red remnants of slumbering daylight are fading behind the mountain’s shadow. A sea of late-blooming white flowers engulfs the landscape like mould. It licks at the graves looming over the plain and washes up on the large boulders that scatter the grassland; gargantuan toys of the gods.

“Come,” the Maia says once more, grasps Ar-Pharazôn’s hand again, harder this time, and leads him around the corner of a high-rising narrow sepulchre. Mairon tugs at his wrist, slows their steps, then turns to him. “I told him to wait here.” Ar-Pharazôn tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. He feels nausea rise in his throat and does not know why, can only mouth a soundless whom. He has not been here in years, it might have been decades, even. A maze of pillars and rectangular nightmares in which he does not know his way, reminders of transience, pretty death threats hewn in stone. Then, on their left, they pass the monument that is his father’s grave. Ar-Pharazôn swallows. The aimless uneasiness in him has become unbearable.

Around another of the tomb’s sharp corners they walk, then stop at an opening between the buildings. 

A figure in the dark, sat on a log.

Reluctantly, Ar-Pharazôn steps closer.  Mairon cautiously walks towards the silhouette and sits beside it, one hand on his knee. When he produces a flame in his palm to illuminate what is seated next to him, Ar-Pharazôn’s world tumbles. 

Before him, old and white, with empty eyes and without words, crouches Gimilkhâd, his father, clad in the raiment they embalmed and laid him to rest in 28 years earlier. The dead man lets out a shaky bodiless sigh. Ar-Pharazôn has forgotten how to breathe, forgotten how to be. A strangled sound escapes him. 

“What have you done, Zigûr? What sorcery is this?�� His skin feels too tight. “How… how is this possible?” Ar-Pharazôn’s fingers are trembling.

“Father…?”

He moves closer and waves a hand before his father’s face. He receives no reaction. Instead, the old man’s wheezing continues and his clouded eyes stare into nothingness. 

“Yes, your beloved father. He is here." Mairon inhales. "See, your people made this easy for me with their perfected art of… preservation.” The Maia speaks in a low, calm voice, then smiles in the flickering firelight. “We could very well work together.” He stands and slowly approaches Ar-Pharazôn. “You dream of forever, my king, and I offer you forever. Just take it, take my hand, and we will be greater together, you and me.” The Maia’s hand comes to rest on his arm. Ar-Pharazôn flinches. “My king. I have told you before, life is mine to take and mine to give. I’ve mastered its fickle ways. Know how death will become hollow and how life will be eternal. Know that, my king. I make it so.” Mairon tucks a strand of Ar-Pharazôn’s thick black hair behind his ear, his fingers lingering. 

Ar-Pharazôn turns around and runs, runs through the black of night, he wants to suffocate, runs, away from the flame that is becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, away from his name, away from the light, and runs until his lungs burn and he cannot run no more. Ar-Pharazôn retches.

He lies awake later that night, and dreams of forever.

[dawnfelagund]

Point of View and In-Universe Authorship of the "Silmarillion"

This past Thursday, I presented at the Popular Culture Association/American Culture Association conference in the Tolkien Studies area on the authorship of The Silmarillion. I've put a transcript of my presentation with some select slides on the Silmarillion Writers' Guild here: https://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/node/5475 (Please note that Tumblr mucks up our links. You will likely need to copy and paste the URL directly.)

This paper is the first step in a project that's long been on my radar, but I've had my plate full with the SWG site rebuild and quite a few publication opportunities that fell my way and I couldn't easily pass up. Now that those tasks are clear, I'm resuming my work on the in-universe historiography of the legendarium, beginning with a surprisingly complex but absolutely essential question: Who wrote The Silmarillion?

By that I don't mean how the published Silmarillion was constructed (for that I wholeheartedly recommend Douglas Charles Kane's Arda Reconstructed) but which fictional character(s) within the legendarium are actually responsible for writing the historical texts that Christopher used to construct the published Silmarillion. The answer to this question is murky (the scholarship, for instance, claims the narrator is omniscient, Elven, and Numenorean, depending on who you read) because the texts are Tolkienian in every way: a tangle of different drafts that are difficult to date, hard to read, and frequently contradict each other.

This paper is the first foray into the topic, looking just at the texts of Morgoth's Ring, which is on its own quite a challenging set of texts. I've spent the past few months close-reading Morgoth's Ring and trying to make sense of its bramble patch of drafts, notes, and edits, and this paper is all that work distilled down into a 15-minute talk: barely scratching the surface, in other words, but it's a start.

[four-rabbits-in-a-trenchcoat]

I posted 2,709 times in 2022

That's 2,605 more posts than 2021!

25 posts created (1%)

2,684 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@purple-purple-pink-purple

@irishironclad

@elytrians

@tolkien-feels

@joan-of-heart

I tagged 2,633 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#catholic - 363 posts

#tolkien - 231 posts

#just catholic things - 182 posts

#catholicism - 157 posts

#this - 111 posts

#dracula daily - 107 posts

#pro life - 100 posts

#lord of the rings - 98 posts

#lmao - 82 posts

#anti abortion - 71 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#or that luthien escaped from the treehouse her father imprisoned her in by magically making her hair grow long enough to use as a rope

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

 GUYS I JUST REALIZED THAT DRACULA AND JONATHAN HAVE ALMOST THE EXACT DYNAMIC OF THE SONG SKULLCRUSHER MOUNTAIN

I AM INCAPABLE OF BEING NORMAL ABOUT THIS

17 notes - Posted September 4, 2022

#4

Happy Feast of St. Valentine everyone!

22 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#3

It's WIP Wednesday, so let me show you my latest loom knitting project. I'm knitting square patches with a mushroom design to (eventually) make a quilt. So first I made my chart on graph paper:

Then I followed that pattern for a patch 30 pegs wide and 30 rows tall, but it didn't turn out as expected:

Apparently pegs and rows are not 1:1, they're about 1:2. So I tried again with 30 pegs and 60 rows, duplicating every row of the pattern (that's why the pattern rows are labeled up to 59, I changed it)

See the full post

48 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

#2

I'm not sure how to solve my problems but I think touching moss would help

72 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Consider: Advent calendars for Lent. Instead of chocolate or toys, each box has a little piece of paper with a penance for that day. Like certain prayers, or corporal works of mercy, etc. Sundays have little skull candies. The calendar's design is 110% memento mori aesthetic.

190 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →