Dürer was one of the first renaissance artists to include and give centre stage to insects in his paintings; previously insects were usually used as symbols rather than study objects in their own right.
It is indeed true that art is omnipresent in nature, and the true artist is he who can bring it out.
No one expected Isabella to become Queen of Castile. So little attention was given to her birth that historians are not absolutely sure when it occurred. One of the few contemporary clues was a letter given by Isabella’s father, King Juan II of Castile, on April 26, 1451 to the town of Madrid announcing that his ‘dear and beloved wife Queen Isabel had given birth to a baby girl the preceding Thursday. That was all. Although we know Isabella was a healthy infant, there were no records of special festivities or celebrations to mark her arrival, not even the mention of a court banquet.
Nancy Rubin Stuart, Isabella of Castile: The first Renaissance Queen.
George Bartisch - Different layers of the Human Brain, “Ophthalmodouleia”, 1583.
Georg Bartisch was a surgeon and an inventor, but he is remembered primarily for his “Ophthamoduleia” (literally ”eye-service”), a treatise on diseases and disorders of the eye. The 1583 text is notable for several reasons. First, it is widely considered the first Renaissance treatise on eye disorders and surgery. Secondly, though most serious texts were written in Latin at the time, the Ophthalmodouleia was published in the vernacular, German. Finally, the book, which Bartisch published at his own expense, included ninety one full-page woodcuts, several of which were layered to act as flaps. As a result, the reader could examine different layers of the human brain by flipping through the woodcuts. This experience simulated the process of dissection for students, professionals, and the general public.
So hiya, yeah I’ve been inactive again for a while ^ ^; But reasons! Last weekend, I went to visit my lovely friend @reallyquantum, pictured with me in the last photo. It’d been a while since I visited anyone so it was a real treat, we had a really girly weekend shopping at malls, went to SPX, saw Ghostbusters again, her mom was amazing, and also the highlight: my first Renaissance Fest!
I threw together an outfit from stuff I had at home and rushed to make myself a matching elf crown and necklace thingy (I made reallyquantum’s back in college) which turned out a bit fancier than expected >.>; I got a lot of compliments which made me really happy, since I haven’t worn anything cool to a con-like event in a really long time ^ ^ The back, not pictured, is the fanciest part so I’ll try to post pictures of that later.
He never had minded the black and white before. Without color, Taekwoon focused more on sharp outlines and dark shadows that defined the depth of the world while those around him fretted over finding their ones and learning what reds and blues were beyond theoretical explanation. He knew that when the color came, the different shades on the Roy G Biv scale would fall into place like a puzzle—it would just take a matter of time for him to find his one.
He never imagined his one would come in the form of Lee Jaehwan. Jaehwan was too loud, so smiley, and always believed his jokes were at least fifty times funnier than they actually were. Taekwoon could always hear Jaehwan long before he entered the room just by the younger’s overly loud, infectious laughter.
He hadn’t expected the loud graduate student to bring his world into color.
Alejandro’s first trip to the colonies was done mostly out of curiosity. A new world to explore…new nightmares to experience…it was a fascination to him. Usually the pesanta preferred to enmesh himself in the past…but for the first time since the Renaissance he felt like something new and exciting was happening - one worth taking note of.
True - the place was hardly as civilized…but Alejandro found he liked the wildness of this new world - and the promises that it held. And then came the wars. So many. Each battle a veritable feast…without the need to slip into people’s personal and private dreams. Yes…war was a horror, but when given the choice between digging into someone’s mind or feeding off of the fear a battlefield wrought, he’d take the battle any day. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel for those who fought and died…but getting too attached to the humans and the wars they waged…it only ever caused him pain in the end. Better to keep himself distant.
After the French and Indian Wars were through, he decided to linger. The natives of this new world intrigued him - made the pesanta long for simpler times…times when he would’ve been honored for his abilities rather than feared. He moved in and out of colonial society - sometimes through the towns, sometimes with the tribes. It was pure chance that he happened to be in Boston when the unrest began. He could sense it even then…the stirrings of a war yet to be. Maybe the others could, too…maybe not. But since he had nowhere else to be, the pesanta stuck around.
He watched as the British army overtook the town, and the fear which had only been a soft rumbling amongst the people became palpable. The public whipping of a potentially innocent man, the riot which left five colonists dead in the street…and things only got worse from there. So he stayed…and from a distance Alejandro fed. Occasionally he would step in and intervene…small things here and there…acts of kindness to counteract some of the cruelty he witnessed. A monster he might be, but heartless he was not.
He still kept mostly to himself; it was always better to not draw attention, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wander the streets now and then…hover himself around areas that seemed to breed the most trouble. And today was no different…although perhaps it should’ve been. The battle that had taken place…Bunker Hill…Breed’s Hill…it had changed everything - for better or worse the pesanta couldn’t be sure. Curiosity, more than anything, had him wandering the streets. So many fears…so many nightmares…and things had barely begun.
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair. It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up, And places with no carpet on the floor – Bare. But all the time I'se been a-climbin’ on, And reachin’ landin’s, And turnin’ corners, And sometimes goin’ in the dark Where there ain’t been no light. So boy, don’t you turn back. Don’t you set down on the steps ‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard. Don’t you fall now – For I'se still goin’, honey, I'se still climbin’, And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
More bird adventuring with @missadventurecosplay at the Ren Faire today! We held an America Kestrel and a Kookaburra. They were such cool birds and we were definitely living our renaissance-painting dreams to the max.
Many thanks again to @lady-lucrezia for letting me wear this beautiful dress!
Draugar Vinlands has been a bit absent from social media for a time, but it’s been for good reason. A few weeks ago we starred as the Viking exhibit for the first annual Vermont Renaissance Faire! We camped for the weekend and gave a number of lectures and demonstrations on all things viking, including combat displays, the design, purpose and use of viking weapons and armor, glima, culture, history, cooking, mythology and religion, law system, and much much more, and all within the confines of an authentic Viking camp! We met old friends and made new friends, exchanging gifts and laughter with all. It was an incredible experience, and we cannot wait to attend next year and put on a truly amazing show that will captivate all who bear witness. A special thanks to the event organizer and man behind it all, Jeff Folb. Without you we would never have known about this.
*plants my flag beside yours on this hill* although I have the (very debatable) impression that most of Middle Earth is too temperate for Mediterranean fashions? Possibly little-ice-age-esque climate?
To be perfectly honest, I’ve never thought about Middle-earth weather at all. Except wherever the Lossoth are, and Rohan is colder than Gondor. And Angband’s cold?? apart from the flames? I guess Dorthonion is probably chilly?
I’m sure someone out there has figured it out, heh.
Bergholt Stuttley (‘Bloody Stupid’) Johnson was Ankh-Morpork’s most famous, or rather most notorious, inventor. He was renowned for never letting his number-blindness, his lack of any skill whatsoever or his complete failure to grasp the essence of a problem stand in the way of his cheerful progress as the first Counter-Renaissance man.
BBC Documentary | The Story of Women and Art - Episode 1
The Story of Women and Art is a television documentary series, consisting of three one-hour episodes, on the history of women artists in Europe from the Renaissance onwards, first broadcast in the United Kingdom on BBC Two in May 2014
It was a warm
spring in Tuscany; the first years of the renaissance were showing in the picturesque
town. But the lord of the dead wasn’t there to view and enjoy the town but a
far more important subject, his wife. Since there was no communication with her
it was almost impossible to find her in the vast world, but Hades had searched
without sleep, carefully to not be caught; his search gave fruits when at the
ends of spring he had found the trace in Italy, and deep into Tuscany.
After a short
while he discovered were she was staying, a small townhouse where he had seen
in a balcony her beautiful shape… The glimpse of her image would have sufficed
his desire, the cold loneliness that had ate his heart melted away when he saw
her, but Hades was greedy and wanted to replace the space where pain was with
hot and passionate love. The problem was Demeter, she was staying at the same
house, Aidoneus had to be more than cautious at his approach.
Finally a warm
morning he climbed the wall of the house, his objective, the window that lead to her chambers. He did
this, of course, with his helm on so nobody could see him. Once in her chambers
he remained with the helm on, hidden, even he had disguised his scent so he was
totally invisible. He wanted to observe first without not Demeter (if she was
there) or Persephone noticing his illegal intrusion.