adorning

anonymous asked:

Do you have anything on Spanish Jewish henna?

Yep! 

Miriam and Israelite women holding hennaed drums, in the Golden Haggadah

Henna was grown and used in medieval Spain by Muslims, Christians, and Jews. It was a medicine and hair dye, and also used to adorn skin for weddings, holidays, and other special occasions. As seen above, it seems that it was used to decorate drums, as was done in later periods in North Africa. It is mentioned in several medieval Judeo-Arabic medical prescriptions and dictionaries as part of plasters or ointments, and in recipes to darken the hair.

Henna in a Judeo-Arabic medical encyclopedia, from the Cairo Geniza

Maimonides explains in one of his responsa that “the dye with which women dye their hands for adornment, known in Arabic as al-hinna” is acceptable for use and does not constitute a barrier for ritual immersion in the miqva (and a number of other Spanish rabbis rule similarly, including Shlomo ben Aderet and Menahem Me’iri); but elsewhere he criticizes the practice of having grooms wear henna for their wedding, and young boy dancers performing with henna and women’s adornments, even “in public, in the synagogues, in the midst of the congregation and community of Israel,” which he sees as violating the biblical prohibition on cross-dressing. 

Henna appears in Hebrew and Arabic poetry as a symbol of the beloved’s beauty, and sometimes even symbolizes their cruelty — their red hennaed fingers seem stained from the blood of the lovers they are ignoring. Interestingly, both boys and girls are described in these poems as having hennaed fingers.

Unfortunately after the expulsion from Spain in 1492 henna fell under the purview of the Inquisition, and was strongly discouraged as a symbol of Muslim or Jewish identity. The Sephardi Jews who fled to North Africa or the Ottoman Empire continued to use henna, and they continued to use the Old Spanish name for it, alhenya

See here, here, here, and here for some more discussion. Let me know if you have more questions!

Poppies And Lavender

@harry-is-my-aesthetic

To feel the breath of his pouted lips after the long and endearing kiss you two held. Pringle a and light, feathery pinpricks of plants and field shrubbery twisting along the frame of his face. A string of subtle tears in the rims of his crinkled eyes. A smile so vibrant that it distracted me from the illustration hues of the wild poopies and lavender sprouts. The wind held everything. A bite, yet a snuggle. Just enough of a breeze that signaled the beginning of fall, when the leaves would shift and the dewy pinks and purples would be masked by a warm orange and yellow. Giggles erupted from the glossy finish of his mouth. Tickles danced from your lips along his tummy. Back up to the strict prominence of his jaw. Then to only seep and drown to the leafy love handles adorned on his sides. He loved being loved. You loved feeling his contentment. The spring and summer washed away the haphazard stress and messiness that work brought, and now that the wind had cooled and the time had slowed with demand for more and more and more work hours. The depth of your Sunday mornings laying about in the nearby field that scattered itself with flowers and specimens of miscellaneous undergrowth. Everything blurred however. The main focus directed on the light that was provided from the gleam in his smile. I couldn’t concentrate on the beauty of the nature, when the beauty of it ALL, was resting in an onslaught of passion besides me. Seconds. Minutes. All passing with the sun. Striped sweater (Now speckled with the dense droplets of left over morning rain), was a little to long for him, even in the large palm of his extended hand. Twisted around the bend of his knuckles, even onto the curl where they merged into the cornea of his eye. Giggle still present, but deluged the slightest as he wiped start tears from his irises. Green and luscious, almost as fascinating as the way they seemed to outcast the nature. Luminous spurts and glorious plants, fading into oblivion, as Harry’s eyes consumed me. Engulfed me in a feeling foreign until our rendezvous towards the poppies and lavender sprouts. Small tendrils of hair (Or whatever was left of the mangled curls at this point), marked the edges of his closed eyelids. Grin, just crooked enough, bursting into fits of laughter hear and there at my cheerful attempts to amuse him. It worked. Arms to light and useless against my and his side. Flailing around the tiniest but when his eyes crinkled and nose scrunched up at the sound of a funny comment or fleeting kiss. It was contagious too. The aurora around him. Almost one of old vines and scented paper. Old and rustic with a hint of his vintage glow. The pattern of his suits not match for the patterns that littered the ground now. Spirits of our happiness seemed to seep into the rooted confines of the Earth. Both of us happy, where our memories of pure spontaneousness and cuddles would stay and help us remember when our brains would forget. A safe haven for when it would all end.
But for now, your body finally slipped to the side of his, and the only thin audible from you two being the spurts of giggles. Each a little cuter and dimple- induced than the one before it. The small, petite indents at the soft and hard hollow of his cheeks glowing. His entire stature casting no shadow of darkness where the sun shimmered upon him. The epitome of beauty. Laying in an excuse for something more lovely than his velvet words and apples, rosy lips. Nothing more stunning than the honey fade that was painted on his cheeks when his laugh was a little too much. Nothing could ever, and will never, beat that. The poppies and lavenders put to a plentiful shame as I loathed and envied the man besides my slightly shaking figure. Jealous that he was so bling to the stars and eyes of galaxies he held. Happy for it however, for all at once, seemingly unexplainable, he had slipped into my hands and claimed me as I did to him. Wrapped in his gentle hold now, still nuzzled into the bobbing heat of his Adam’s Apple, I let the heat sink in, when the humor had drained into a comfortable silence. Strings in ours hearts strumming and screaming, all playing a tune that streamed in my mind. One of fields and flowers. One of love and peace. One of his beauty and everything that he beheld in his godly and heavenly ways. One of the flowers that he lied upon. One of scents of poppies and lavender and the lilies that snuck through the occasional weeds. All clustering to hold him. To hold us. To hold his heart that was always to big for his body. A chair of poppies and lavender, fit for a king as himself.


Um….holy fuck.  I was listening to Winter Birds from Ray LaMontagne when I read this.  Jesus….excellent.  Thank you lovely.

Birthstones: Significance and secret meaning

Having a special meaning, now these beautiful birthstones holds a special place in our lives. There unique powers make them useful in several ways. It is hard to keep yourself away from their charm and beauty. And, not to forget they are different for people born in different months. Check your lucky stone now!

Since ancient times, birthstones have been a popular choice. They have been adorned for a number of reasons. While some love them for their sparkle, on the other hand some believe in their magical powers. The modern birthstones are linked to calendar months, i.e. each month has a unique birthstone. Not only this, these precious gemstones have their own distinct fabled properties, making them famous worldwide.

For those who are born in first half of the year, i.e. from January to June, can check their birthstones here (link with the previous blog). And, for the rest, having their birthdays falling from July to December, read out to know their lucky stone:

July: The stone for this month was earlier known to be the king of gems. It is the beautiful and glittering red stone, ‘Ruby’. Being a symbol of devotion, strength and integrity, it is said to protect the wearer from evil and ignite passion. In addition, if gifted, it is believed to make love and friendship stronger. As far as medical benefits are concerned, it helps to regulate the circulation.

August:Peridot is the stone for the people born in August. It is brilliant stone known for its cleansing powers. Enhancing growth, purification, relaxation and beauty, this stone is linked to nature. It is mentioned as a sacred chrysolite in holy bible and said to protect from negative energies. Generally, available in lime green color, it is accessible in different shapes and sizes.

September:Being a symbol of loyalty, purity, honor, etc., Lapis Lazull is said to boost spiritual love. This bright blue metamorphic gemstone is widely used in jewelry pieces for its prettiness and grace. For the married couple, it is a perfect stone to boost love and fidelity.

October: The stone linked with the 10th month of the year symbolizes emotional connection. It is available in different shapes, sizes and colors. Earlier, it was believed to strengthen love relationship. And, even now it is said to sooth emotions and relations.

November: Citrine is said to energize lives up to a great extent. Hence, if you are born in November, then it is perfect life booster for you. This greenish- yellow stone is said to bring prosperity, happiness and success in one’s life.

December: This month’s birthstone is the stunning topaz, which comes is variety of colors like yellow, deep golden, blue, pink, white and many others. It is usually linked with sanity and healing. In addition, it energizes the wearer and keep him active throughout.

Nowadays, it is possible to get your birthstones in different ways. Yes, you can wear it the way you want to. Whether a pendant, a ring, or a pair of earrings. Hence, keep yourself in style and attached to the powers of stones!

@punchdrunks

        after having given away some backstage passes to
a few fans (and ross, of course), yoshi had quickly decided
he wanted to meet all but the most important one before
the show. so he did. and after the show, coming off the stage
all sweaty and hyped up, he finds ross just where he needs to
be. he’s panting from the last song of the encore and from his
short run to the taller lad, smudged eyeliner adorning his
heterochromic hues as he looks up excitedly at the male. 
was that as good for you as it was for me??  

—- 🍴  𝔪𝔞𝔪𝔞

   eyes linger on the familiar suit adorning her son’s broad form as he walks away. all the adjustments had been done lovingly by hand as with everything she owned, and she could tell it’d been tampered with— no doubt by bulma and some professionals. it’s for the best really. she’s aged, and wouldn’t have been surprised if it tore from haphazard stitching. it means enough to her he’d wear it at all.

   tears pour over then, and a hand raises to touch her lips, silencing any open noises. it’d… it’d been so long since she could say she’d truly been HAPPY. years went by, devastation after devastation striking their small family until nothing of it was left… but, here and now, watching the last of her own, her end, take place beside his BEGINNING

   if she wasn’t here tomorrow, she could say she’d no regrets.

        ❛ take care of my gohan for me, trunks..

rawstory.com
White nationalist leader: ‘Every alt-right Nazi I know is volunteering for the Trump campaign’
Although Donald Trump has repeatedly disavowed the support of David Duke and other white nationalists, they’ve never stopped loving him or his campaign.

In fact, the Los Angeles Times has an interview with several leading white nationalist figures in which they crow about the ways that Trump’s campaign has given them and their ideas publicity that they never would have had otherwise.

In return, it seems that the American neo-Nazi movement is giving Trump an army of grassroots volunteers who will proudly goosestep across the country in their quest to make America great again. For instance, recall Trump campaign volunteer Grace Tilly, who earlier this year was photographed with white supremacist tattoos adorned all over her arms.

“Virtually every alt-right Nazi I know is volunteering for the Trump campaign,” Andrew Anglin, editor of the white nationalist Daily Stormer website, told the Los Angeles Times.

Infamous former Klan leader David Duke was similarly giddy about what Trump’s campaign had done for his movement, and he told the LA Times that “the fact that Donald Trump’s doing so well, it proves that I’m winning.”

Poppies And Lavenders

To feel the breath of his pouted lips after the long and endearing kiss you two held. Pringle a and light, feathery pinpricks of plants and field shrubbery twisting along the frame of his face. A string of subtle tears in the rims of his crinkled eyes. A smile so vibrant that it distracted me from the illustration hues of the wild poopies and lavender sprouts. The wind held everything. A bite, yet a snuggle. Just enough of a breeze that signaled the beginning of fall, when the leaves would shift and the dewy pinks and purples would be masked by a warm orange and yellow. Giggles erupted from the glossy finish of his mouth. Tickles danced from your lips along his tummy. Back up to the strict prominence of his jaw. Then to only seep and drown to the leafy love handles adorned on his sides. He loved being loved. You loved feeling his contentment. The spring and summer washed away the haphazard stress and messiness that work brought, and now that the wind had cooled and the time had slowed with demand for more and more and more work hours. The depth of your Sunday mornings laying about in the nearby field that scattered itself with flowers and specimens of miscellaneous undergrowth. Everything blurred however. The main focus directed on the light that was provided from the gleam in his smile. I couldn’t concentrate on the beauty of the nature, when the beauty of it ALL, was resting in an onslaught of passion besides me. Seconds. Minutes. All passing with the sun. Striped sweater (Now speckled with the dense droplets of left over morning rain), was a little to long for him, even in the large palm of his extended hand. Twisted around the bend of his knuckles, even onto the curl where they merged into the cornea of his eye. Giggle still present, but deluged the slightest as he wiped start tears from his irises. Green and luscious, almost as fascinating as the way they seemed to outcast the nature. Luminous spurts and glorious plants, fading into oblivion, as Harry’s eyes consumed me. Engulfed me in a feeling foreign until our rendezvous towards the poppies and lavender sprouts. Small tendrils of hair (Or whatever was left of the mangled curls at this point), marked the edges of his closed eyelids. Grin, just crooked enough, bursting into fits of laughter hear and there at my cheerful attempts to amuse him. It worked. Arms to light and useless against my and his side. Flailing around the tiniest but when his eyes crinkled and nose scrunched up at the sound of a funny comment or fleeting kiss. It was contagious too. The aurora around him. Almost one of old vines and scented paper. Old and rustic with a hint of his vintage glow. The pattern of his suits not match for the patterns that littered the ground now. Spirits of our happiness seemed to seep into the rooted confines of the Earth. Both of us happy, where our memories of pure spontaneousness and cuddles would stay and help us remember when our brains would forget. A safe haven for when it would all end.

But for now, your body finally slipped to the side of his, and the only thin audible from you two being the spurts of giggles. Each a little cuter and dimple- induced than the one before it. The small, petite indents at the soft and hard hollow of his cheeks glowing. His entire stature casting no shadow of darkness where the sun shimmered upon him. The epitome of beauty. Laying in an excuse for something more lovely than his velvet words and apples, rosy lips. Nothing more stunning than the honey fade that was painted on his cheeks when his laugh was a little too much. Nothing could ever, and will never, beat that. The poppies and lavenders put to a plentiful shame as I loathed and envied the man besides my slightly shaking figure. Jealous that he was so bling to the stars and eyes of galaxies he held. Happy for it however, for all at once, seemingly unexplainable, he had slipped into my hands and claimed me as I did to him. Wrapped in his gentle hold now, still nuzzled into the bobbing heat of his Adam’s Apple, I let the heat sink in, when the humor had drained into a comfortable silence. Strings in ours hearts strumming and screaming, all playing a tune that streamed in my mind. One of fields and flowers. One of love and peace. One of his beauty and everything that he beheld in his godly and heavenly ways. One of the flowers that he lied upon. One of scents of poppies and lavender and the lilies that snuck through the occasional weeds. All clustering to hold him. To hold us. To hold his heart that was always to big for his body. A chair of poppies and lavender, fit for a king as himself.

Enemies? Chapter 1 (Phanfiction)

Hi. My name is [ twentyonefalloutphanicatthedan]
Nice to meet you.
And this is my first proper phanfiction I guess.
Woo
I mean I’ve kinda always wanted to be someone that posts phan- okay I’ll stop
Thanks to @giuliandsexydoghat for persuading me to post this and inspiring this fic
And yeah that’s all I have to say
Word count: 1,048
TW: slight bullying and teasing about sexuality I guess?
No links atm but I’ll get some soon

Dan straightened his flower crown again self consciously as he stole a glance in the mirror again.

His pale pink V-neck sweater hung on his torso loosely, the sleeves covering most of his hands so only the ends of his fingers were showing. The white skinny jeans he wore hugged his legs tightly and one of his favourite flower crowns adorned his chocolate coloured curly locks, the outfit topped with pale blue converse. He cocked his head to the side in deliberation and decided that this was acceptable.

Dan sneaked one last look in the mirror - before realising he was probably being vain - slung his bag over his shoulder and left for school.

He arrived just in time for the bell, though he was half hoping he would be late so that he didn’t have to face those jerks in the corridors or by the gates.

Just so that he wouldn’t have to face Chris Kendall, Pj Liguori and Phil Lester.

Phil Lester.

Phil Lester, the bad boy punk who always wore black and never obeyed the rules or any of the teachers. Phil Lester, with the blue fringe and black hair and blue eyes and those snakebites (which he sometimes wondered how they would feel against his skin before reminding himself that he couldn’t think about Phil Lester that way - not that he would admit that to anyone).

But he wasn’t lucky enough to avoid them today.

“Oh look, it’s the pretty boy again!”

Dan’s cheeks reddened and he bowed his head. Hurrying up a little, he scurried past the group of boys laughing at him and hastened to get to his class. His quickening footsteps were soon followed by jeers and calls and laughter and his eyes watered a little, but he would not let tears spill. Straightening his flower crown, Dan opened the door to his maths classroom and sat down at his seat situated next to his best (admittedly only) friend, Louise Pentland.

Her eyes softened with sympathy as she saw that his brown eyes were still shiny from unshed tears and she gave Dan an awkward pat as he sat down.

“Was Phil Lester and his stupid friends giving you a hard time again?” she whispered to him as the teacher did the register. Dan simply shrugged and nodded meekly.

“Dan, don’t listen to them okay? They’re just picking on you to get over their own silly insecurities. They don’t have anything against you personally, really.”

Dan sighed. “Yeah, yeah I know, Lou. You’ve told me that a thousand times. I just wish they would pick on someone else, not me.”

“That wouldn’t be any better though would it? That’s just passing it on to someone else. Just don’t react to them, and they’ll get bored soon enough.”

“They haven’t seemed to have gotten tired after three fucking years, have they though?” Dan countered, his voice threatening to rise. Louise sighed.

“Dan-”

“Pentland! Howell! Enough chatting in class or it’ll be detention for the both of you!” Their teacher, Miss Page, yelled over the usual muttering. Heads turned to look at them and a few sniggered.

Dan turned away and looked out of the window for lack of better distraction. He wondered when Phil Lester would decide he was bored with Dan and leave him alone, but he knew it wasn’t likely to be soon.

***
Music pounded in his ears as he walked home, hoping to block out the insults swirling around in his head but to no avail. Dan huffed in frustration and shook his head frantically as if to rid himself of these thoughts but only managed to almost shake off his beloved flower crown. He frowned as he straightened his flower crown again and continued his way home.

He was finally shaken out of his thoughts at the sound of an all too familiar voice.

“What’s wrong with you, pretty boy? Trying to shake the gay away? Because I’m afraid that’s not how it works.” Dan visibly stiffened at the sound of Phil Lester’s voice.

He huffed and quickened his pace, wanting to get home now more than anything and return to the sweet sanctuary of his bedroom. Yes, as well as having the pleasure of going to the same school as him, they were also next door neighbours. How kind of the universe.

“Not going to answer? That’s a shame,” Phil drawled, drawing out the word ‘shame’.

Dan closed his eyes momentarily to try to relieve himself of his rising anger and confusion. What was he even talking about?

He turned up the volume even louder, possibly damaging his ears but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to listen to Phil Lester right now, or any time.

Suddenly the footsteps behind him quickened and before Dan knew it Phil was right next to him and plucking the earphones out of Dan’s left ear.

“Watcha listening to?”

Dan turned to him, his jaw slack in shock and anger as Phil promptly popped the earphone into his own ear.

“Not bad music taste for a gay boy,” Phil commented, nodding in approval as he listened to Muse.

Dan was at a loss for words. Only half an hour ago Phil Lester was mocking and ridiculing him, now he was complimenting his music taste, but /along with another insult?/

Dan closed his mouth as he was still gawking. He then snatched the earphone out of Phil ear in anger, before he began to run in the direction of his house.

Dan quickly realised that this was not the best idea.

He was out of breath in seconds and Phil was catching up with ease - it was common knowledge that Phil Lester was well fit anyways.

Dan felt himself being yanked backwards by his bag and spun around to be face to face with Phil, his pastel pink sweater bunched in Phil’s hand.

Phil cocked his head to the side, his hot breath on Dan’s ear and neck sending shivers down his spine. Phil drawled in his ear;

“Don’t try running from me, pretty boy.”

And with that, Phil let go of him and Dan, unable to support himself in time, fell to the ground. When he looked up, Phil was gone.

And he was left there feeling more confused than ever.

I kinda feel less confident in this everyone I read it but HEY! MAYBE OTHER PEOPLE MIGHT LIKE IT? Ty for reading

(Edit: Yup just thought of a title couldn’t think of a better one might change it later Kay bye)
For Your Reading & Viewing Pleasure

At the Library, a Cafe and TV Studio, and an Effort to Modernize - Boston Globe

Bibliophilia: the Extraordinary Library of Catherine the Great - Wonders & Marvels

The Future of Libraries Has Three Different Paths - Zócalo Square

How Mindfulness and Storytelling Help Kids Heal and Learn - Mind/Shift (Includes video)

Librarians Stand Again Against FBI Overreach - Hartford Courant

Libraries of the Future are Going to Change in Some Unexpected Ways - Business Insider

Lovely Hidden Paintings Adorned the Edges of Historic Books - Atlas Obscura

Studies in the News – a weekly compilation of policy-tested articles and reports produced by the California Research Bureau

The World’s Oldest Library Gets a 21st Century Face Lift - CNN