hermann house

                                           Like the soul that sings by itself
                                           in its clean crystal house.

                                           —HERMANN BROCH


I had to travel to Nevada to see you. A wide plain
surrounded the house where you awaited me in a
white tunic, taller than usual. I sensed that the
house was a figment of memory, something you
confirmed by putting your arm through the ice
that now replaced the walls. Accustomed to
hiding in words, I wanted to give you a letter.
That letter spoke of the variations of the river:
what was, what is, what will be. But you were the
river and the image of the river, seen from above
(I mean, fury itself ). You gazed at me, livid with
tenderness, in light of the inconstant color of fog.
Finally I tried to pin the letter to your plumage but
affably you declined, like one who appreciates the
effort of feigning the impossible. Your beak
quivered lightly. You left me at the mercy of
happiness, contemplating you, now you were a
great white bird.

María Negroni, from “Mirror of the Soul,” Night Journey (Princeton University Press, 2002)

A five-month old sketch I re-did completely cuz it was old and therefore crappy. Well, more crappy.

They’re about as comparable as Newt and Hanji srsly

LARGE BALLS 

From Left to Right: 

Claes Oldenburg, Proposed Colossal Monument for Thames River: Thames Ball, 1966 /  Hermann Finsterlin, House of Worship 

Christo and Jeanne-Claude, Air Package Project for the Garden of the Museum of Modern Art, New York, New York, 1968 / O.E. Bieber, Competition Project for the Construction of the Cologne Skyscraper, Cologne, Germany, 1925

Here’s my @pacrimholidayswap piece for @purapea! The prompt was “attempting to make a gingerbread house”. Looks like their attempt was a success! I think the key was splitting up gingerbread house duties. Hermann worked on the house portion, while Newt focused in on the extra cookie props.

Happy Holidays!

anonymous asked:

AU where Newt is a gardener and Hermann is the reclusive, lonely man who hires him and ends up talking with him through notes and watching him through windows like the love struck creeper he is.

Hermann finds the latest note tucked under the windowsill and sighs, trying to maintain some level or exasperation- if only for his own strength of will- he should throw it away, but- as always, his fingers seem to ahve their own thoughts on the matter and the note is open before he is really aware of it-

Hey Herms, the magnolias are coming up well, aren’t they? I managed to get a few cuttings to replace those white roses that died last year. Hope it doesn’t rain again!

Hugs and kisses xxxxx

Newt

Hermann moves his chair over to the window and twitches the curtain just enough to peer out. Newt is bent over the sadly empty flowerbed where his roses use to grow, scent so rich it filled the house, swept over Hermann and taking him, if only for a few moments, out of himself-

For now though, his eyes are drawn away from the roots going into the earth and the little white buds nodding over the freshly tilled earth, up to the strained white shirt over Newt’s shoulders, the curl of his biceps as he  works, the comfortable swell of his backside in his worn out, muddy jeans-

Hermann grits his teeth and pulls away, pulling the curtain closed with more force than is warranted- why is he doing this- why didn’t he send this man away the moment he looked out and saw him- is it not enough to live like this- alone, never going out- without torturing himself like this-

The crash of thunder breaks him out of his reverie; it looks as though Newt’s hope for no rain is about to be in vain. Hermann rolls his chair to the door and hesitates- five years ago, he would have opened it, invited the gardener inside, but now-

The rain will be here in a moment, and Newt does not live nearby, but to let him in, to allow someone in his house- allow someone to see him, after so long-

A flash of light no vivid it’s visible even through the curtains, less than a split-second later there is a scream like the sky tearing in two- the storm is directly above them- that bolt must have hit the church spire and Hermann knows enough to know no one should be out in this;

Without letting his mind consider it any further, he open the door.

The sky is bruise-mottled, purple and green and alive with thunder and flashes of sheet lighting; Newt is frozen in the rose beds, eyes fixed on the sky and hair starting to stand up-

“Get inside now!” Hermann’s vocie is thin and feeble in his own ears, but somehow Newt hears him, he turns, eyes wide, and its impossible to tell which is the worse shock- the sudden storm, or seeing Hermann;

“Move!” Hermann tears his throat with the scream, just as the roof starts to crack and clatter- golf-ball chunks of ice crashing to the ground- the garden will not survive, but at least it gets Newt moving; he starts to run towards the house;

Hermann rolls out of his way as Newt races, in closing the door against the next shattering roar of thunder- the spire again, or some unfortunate tree-

Newt is panting, his shirt is soaked with sweat and sleet and melting ice, showing through vivid from the tattoos Hermann religiously mapped over the months; the curve of his pectorals, defined after months of work, the solid mass of his arms, the soft roundness of his belly pressing multicolored and taut against the translucent fabric of the shirt; Newt blinks, and his eyes settle on Hermann.

Hermann fights against the urge to turn away, cover his face and not let himself be seen- the twisted ruin of his hip, the scars from that horrific car accident mapping over his left arm, mottling pink across his face; Hermann drags his eyes off the ground, forces himself to meet Newt’s eyes;

It’s so hard to do this, after so much mockery and pity and hate and disgust, but he manages it;

Newt does not look mocking, disgusted, and there is no pity or hate in his eyes; he’s smiling, as though seeing Hermann was every birthday and Christmas rolled into one, looks him over as though Hermann is something wonderful, something he’d never dared to believe he would have;

“Hey,” Newt’s voice is soft, and he takes a step closer to Hermann, “Thank you,”

“I couldn’t leave you out there,” Hermann bristles,

“Not for that,” Newt steps even closes, kneels down until they are face to face, his eyes bright behind his muddy glasses, his smile brighter than the lightning, his fingers touches the puckered, marred skin of Hermann’s hand, he glances down, then up again, “Not for that.”

3

La Reine de Rien” Chapter 2 Summary

- Emperor William and Prince Ferdinand finally meet on thefrontlines to fight for the Lestein [small kingdom east of the empire, that suffered a tough rebellion not long ago]

- Colette and Hermann seem to find a common ground and that deeply upsets Beau, who’s being jealous towards the little man.

- Colette convinces the Emperor to approve her plan to take The Gray Tops by trickery. She, Duncan, Hermann and a few hundred soldiers going to go across the mountain to destroy Ferdinan’d rearward.

- Beau’s upset that Colette, once again, didn’t allow him to come with her. He goes for a stroll to clear up his thoughts and suddenly stumbles upon Sebastien. It leads to a fight, during which Beau kills Lafaielle and a chevalier, that Sebastien was talking to. Terrified of what he’s done, Beau still manages to hide the bodies and get back to the main camp.

- Colette and her party march for The Grey Tops. Letty and Hermann seem to deliver a mutual sympathy for each other, however she warns him that this ‘route’ is too dangerous for them both. Hermann convinces her to play a drinking game to try to get to know her better.

- Charlene Blackmont meets up with Odette and begs her to spare Ferdinand’s life. Odette makes her confess that she is the one who killed her husband and that Ferdinand is an actual father of her children, but agrees to help.

- Emperor William notices that Sebastien disappeared and asks Beau to lead the search party.

- Meanwhile, at Ferdinand’s camp everything goes according to plan, Colette lets to get herself captured so she can 'give up’ the false plan to Ferdinand.

- After a few hours of being questioned and tortured, Colette passes out and find herself in another one of her crazy dreams. This time The Queen of Spades herself offers her an audience… but can her intentions be truly friendly?

- When Colette wakes up again, she finds herself in the house with Hermann and James (Hermann’s half-brother, chevalier of Ferdinand’s army, who rescued her from the fire).

- Meanwhile Odette’s busy, babysitting princess Arabella, knitting her usual web of intrigues.

- Beaumont is trying to 'find Sebastien’s killer’, questioning and torturing everyone who he finds suitable to be a suspect. He still feels lost and angry, realizing that his past is dead to him and that his life now changed completely.

- Colette’s questioning herself, she’s not sure if she did the right thing, when she got Beau involved into the big game. She and Hermann are leaning towards each other, but at the same time both understand that it’s not going to work out. Finally Colette confirms that she will marry Beau and Hermann promises that he will help her to watch out for him.

In the third chapter story settings will take more medieval turn. Once again, it’s not a plot twist, it’s just a twist of my mind and there’s no logical explanation to this so yeah… deal with it xD