plumb lines

Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand. - Zechariah 4:10
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It doesn’t matter if you’re an aspiring photographer, business owner, or you’re desiring more recognition at your work, or approval from your family, God wants to use you, small beginnings and all.
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It doesn’t matter what you have or haven’t accomplished by now. Now is not the time to look down on yourself or lose faith in what God can do. Don’t stop dreaming. Don’t stop journaling and writing down those things that you want to do to bring Him glory!
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This verse is a part of one of the eight visions God gave to the prophet Zechariah where He would reveal to Zechariah His plan for Israel. This vision here was about Zerubbabel, who was the head of the tribe of Judah and the one who would rebuild the temple in Jerusalem. What’s important to know is that while the temple needed to be built, it didn’t happen right away. The foundation was laid down, but it took years for the temple to be finished.
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Remember this in your life. It’s okay if you haven’t made the progress you thought you would have made by now. Don’t despise where you are right now. Keep trusting God because there is more ahead!
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It doesn’t matter if you work at a coffee shop or a law firm, understand that God uses every single day of your life to work together for good. Even when your tasks at work seem mundane, or customers or clients are wearing you down, you’re getting stronger in these moments. Day by day, God is refining you and preparing you for what is ahead.
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So keep planting seeds. Even when no one is looking. Even when you’re being overlooked. Because even if no one supports you or stands by you, God sees those that are being faithful and He honors that. He sees those who aren’t doing things for their own selfish gain and He blesses that.
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Those seeds will grow.
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Keep planting.
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Written by @morganhnichols for #TheDevoCo

5

“What are you doing here?” I asked accusingly. 

At the same time Jamie asked, in a similarly accusatory tone, “How much do ye weigh, Sassenach?” 

Still a bit addled, I actually replied “Nine stone,” before thinking to ask “Why?” 

“Ye nearly crushed my liver,” he answered, gingerly prodding the affected area. “Not to mention scaring living hell out of me.” He reached a hand down and hauled me to my feet. “Are ye all right?” 

“No, I bumped my head.” Rubbing the spot, I looked dazedly around the bare hallway. “What did I bang it on?” I demanded ungrammatically. 

My head,” he said, rather grumpily, I thought. 

“Serves you right,” I said nastily. “What were you doing, sneaking about outside my door?”

He gave me a testy look

“I wasna ‘sneaking about,’ for God’s sake. I was sleeping— or trying to.” He rubbed what appeared to be a knot forming on his temple. 

“Sleeping? Here?” I looked up and down the cold, bare, filthy hallway with exaggerated amazement. “You do pick the oddest places; first stables, now this.” 

“It may interest ye to know that there’s a small party of English dragoons stopped in to the taproom below,” he informed me coldly. “They’re a bit gone in drink, and disporting themselves a bit reckless with two women from the town. Since there’s but the two lasses, and five men, some of the soldiers seemed a bit inclined to venture upward in search of … ah, partners. I didna think you’d care overmuch for such attentions.” He flipped his plaid back over his shoulder and turned in the direction of the stairway. “If I was mistaken in that impression, then I apologize. I’d no intention of disturbin’ your rest. Good e’en to ye.” 

“Wait a minute.” He stopped, but did not turn back, forcing me to walk around him. He looked down at me, polite but distant. 

“Thank you,” I said. “It was very kind of you. I’m sorry I stepped on you.”

He smiled then, his face changing from a forbidding mask to its usual expression of good humor

“No harm done, Sassenach,” he said. “As soon as the headache goes away and the cracked rib heals, I’ll be good as new.” 

He turned back and pushed open the door of my room, which had swung shut in the wake of my hasty exit, owing to the fact that the builder had apparently constructed the inn without benefit of a plumb line. There wasn’t a right angle in the place. 

“Go back to bed, then,” he suggested. “I’ll be here.” 

I looked at the floor. Besides its essential hardness and coldness, the oaken boards were blotched with expectorations, spills, and forms of filth I didn’t wish even to contemplate. The builder’s mark in the door lintel had said 1732, and that was plainly the last time the boards had been cleaned. 

“You can’t sleep out here,” I said. “Come in; at least the floor in the room isn’t quite this bad.” 

Jamie froze, hand on the doorframe. 

“Sleep in your room with ye?” He sounded truly shocked. “I couldna do that! Your reputation would be ruined!” 

He really meant it. I started to laugh, but converted it into a tactful coughing fit. Given the exigencies of road travel, the crowded state of the inns, and the crudity or complete lack of sanitary facilities, I was on terms of such physical intimacy with these men, Jamie included, that I found the idea of such prudery hilarious. 

“You’ve slept in the same room with me before,” I pointed out, when I had recovered a bit. “You and twenty other men.”

He sputtered a bit. “That isna at all the same thing! I mean, it was a quite public room, and …” He paused as an awful thought struck him. “You didna think I meant that you were suggesting anything improper?” he asked anxiously. “I assure ye, I—” 

“No, no. Not at all.” I made haste to reassure him that I had taken no offense. 

Seeing that he could not be persuaded, I insisted that at the least he must take the blankets from my bed to lie upon. He agreed to this reluctantly, and only upon my repeated assurances that I would not use them myself in any case, but intended to sleep as usual in the cover of my thick traveling cloak.

I tried to thank him again, as I paused by the makeshift pallet before returning to my fetid sanctuary, but he waved away my appreciation with a gracious hand.

1.05 Rent

anonymous asked:

Does phinks is gay??

He is.

He is

He is

He is

Is he?

He’s not.

Shalnark : What?

Franklin: What?

Nobunaga: What?

Machi: What?

Yeah, he’s bi.

Shalnark: You’re right! Our mistake.

He’s bi.

He’s bi.

He’s bi.

He’s bi.

WHAAAAT? What is this conspiracy? I’m as straight as a plumb line! You can built buildings on my straightness!

Machi : Yeah, the Pisa Tower.

Anyway, this is very rude and I don’t understand why you keep on memeing on me. It’s not like…

Shalnark: Hey look, Danchou is coming over!

Where? Where is he? How are my hair? Ho shit, i forgot to shave this morning, I don’t look to much neglected? Why are you all laughing?

Henri Matisse - Still Life with Books and Candle (1890)

- This painting is one of the first ones which he created.

Two years later in 1891 Matisse returned to Paris to study art at the Académie Julian and became a student of William-Adolphe Bouguereau and Gustave Moreau. He began painting still-lives and landscapes in the traditional Flemish style, at which he achieved reasonable proficiency. Most of his early works employ a dark palette and tend to be gloomy. Matisse was influenced by the works of earlier masters such as Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin, Nicolas Poussin, and Antoine Watteau, as well as by modern artists, such as Édouard Manet, and by Japanese art. Chardin was one of Matisse’s most admired painters having made four copies of the French still-life master paintings in the Louvre. Although he executed numerous copies after the old masters he also studied contemporary art.  His first experimentations earned him a reputation as the rebellious member of his studio classes.
After a discouraging year at the Académie Julian, he left in disgust at the overly perfectionist style of teaching there. Afterwards he trained with Moreau, an artist who nurtured more progressive leanings. In both studios, as was usual, students drew endless figure studies from life. From Bouguereau, he learned the fundamental lessons of classical painting. His one art-schooled technical standby, almost a fetish, was the plumb line. No matter how odd the angles in any Matisse, the verticals are usually dead true.
Moreau was a painter who despised the “art du salon”, so Matisse was destined, in a certain sense, to remain an “outcast” of the art world. He initially failed his drawing exam for admission to the École des Beaux-Arts, but persisted and was finally accepted.

Home, Chapter 3

TITLE: Home
CHAPTER NUMBER: 3/?
AUTHOR: Losille2000
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom
GENRE: Romance/Drama
FIC SUMMARY: Tom returns home grouchy and exhausted from a cramped flight after four months away for work. Unfortunately, there’s already someone sleeping in his bed.
RATING: M (sex, language)
WARNINGS:  None.
AUTHORS NOTES: Thanks for reading and your comments!

Previous Chapter

Keep reading

All cracked up

Gluteal cleft- 

The thinking man’s arse definition 


 Hoodlum bums in the end times-

 (You know the type, the lowriders aren’t just the wheels-

ridin’ dangerously close to losing the pants pretense 

rarely ever where you’d think they ought to be

high on the risk of living on the edge of full revelation

[see previous definition] ) 


 Worker wedge or edge spill- 

commonly coin[slott]ed

a plum[p] plumb[er’s bum] line

 when anything that can, cheekily will 

work its way down or 

wad itself up in between 

whilst we’re trying to do things!

@leaspeed6 leveling up!

“I have some engineering friends and they want all scopes perfectly level and uncanted. Using a @badgerordnance “dead zero” scope leveling tool with rail, you can perfectly level a scope with mounts using its built-in bubble level and fine adjustments. Then you look through scope at a plumb line or other vert/horiz point of reference and rotate your scope so there is no cant in reticle. In this case, we looked out back of kitchen to reference lines taped to backyard wall. You can do this directly on the rifle as well if you level that but it can be a lot trickier. This is also a good time to mount a level to the scope for when you are out shooting, as you know it will be perfectly aligned without cant. I found this pretty interesting of a process!”

lifeasbritney  asked:

So I think I have a challenge for you. Since Jamie was supposedly in love at first sight with Claire, I was wondering if there's any PRE wedding moments that kinda show that.

This was really fun to answer! If you’re a first time book reader you really don’t see Jamie’s love for Claire pre-wedding, since he doesn’t admit his love until later. Also, Outlander is written entirely from Claire’s POV, so if she doesn’t see Jamie’s love, we really don’t either.  That being said, I’m going to assume that we know he loves her and then read pre-wedding. I’ve also included gifs since the series, especially the first half, was very true to the books and Sam’s portrayal of Jamie in love is perfect.

“When I asked my Da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I’d have no doubt. And I didn’t. When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself, ‘Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman.’ ”

He smoothed the hair from my face and kissed my brow. “I wanted ye from the first I saw ye— but I loved ye when you wept in my arms and let me comfort you, that first time at Leoch.”

With these two later passages in place, we can go back and find times that Jamie shows his love. I was actually surprised at how many times Claire seems to have a little crush on Jamie.

This is the above scene by the fireside from Claire’s POV.

The lad had nice feelings. Instead of calling for help or retreating in confusion, he sat down, gathered me firmly onto his lap with his good arm and sat rocking me gently, muttering soft Gaelic in my ear and smoothing my hair with one hand. I wept bitterly, surrendering momentarily to my fear and heartbroken confusion, but slowly I began to quiet a bit, as Jamie stroked my neck and back, offering me the comfort of his broad, warm chest. My sobs lessened and I began to calm myself, leaning tiredly into the curve of his shoulder. No wonder he was so good with horses, I thought blearily, feeling his fingers rubbing gently behind my ears, listening to the soothing, incomprehensible speech. If I were a horse, I’d let him ride me anywhere.

“I thank ye, Claire. You’ve a good touch.” His hand reached out as though to touch my face, but he seemed to think better of it; the hand wavered and dropped to his side. Apparently he had felt that odd surge of intimacy too. I looked hastily away, flipping a hand in a think-nothing-of-it gesture.

Jamie sat forward a bit in anticipation, then realizing that he blocked my view, insisted that I sit on the other side of him, displacing Laoghaire down the bench. I could see the girl was not best pleased at this arrangement, and I tried to protest that I was all right as I was, but he was firm about it. 

“No, you’ll see and hear better there. And then, if he speaks in the Gaelic, I can whisper in your ear what he says.”

There was an awkward moment as he paused by the door, seeking something to say in farewell. Finally, he invited me to come to the stable next day and see a newborn foal. I promised that I would, and we said good night, both speaking together. We laughed and nodded absurdly to each other as I shut the door. I went at once to bed and fell asleep in a winey haze, to dream unsettling dreams that I would not recall come morning.

I find Geilis’ comment interesting and makes you wonder what others are observing between Claire and Jamie.

Now the young lad ye brought with ye,” she went on, nodding in approval, “there’s one that’s had a few love-philtres bought on his behalf. Is he yours?” 

“Mine? Who? You mean, er, Jamie?” I was startled. 

The young woman looked amused. She sat down on a log, twirling a lock of fair hair idly around her index finger.

Mounted once more in front of him, my own horse led by the rein, I tried to thank him for his help. 

“No trouble, lass,” he said, dismissing my thanks. 

“But it was a risk to you,” I said, persisting. “I didn’t realize you’d be in danger when I asked you.” 

“Ah,” he said, noncommittally. And a moment later, with a hint of amusement, “Ye wouldna expect me to be less bold than a wee Sassenach lassie, now would ye?” 

He urged the horses into a trot as the shadows of dusk gathered by the roadside. We did not speak much on the rest of the journey home. And when we reached the castle, he left me at the gate with no more than a softly mocking, “Good’ e’en, Mistress Sassenach.” But I felt as though a friendship had been begun that ran a bit deeper than shared gossip under the apple trees.

The obstruction rolled over with a startled oath and grasped me hard by the arms. I found myself held against the length of a sizable male body, with someone’s breath tickling my ear.

“Who are you?” I gasped, jerking backward. “And what are you doing here?” Hearing my voice, the unseen assailant relaxed his grip. 

“I might ask the same of you, Sassenach,” said the deep soft voice of Jamie MacTavish, and I relaxed a little in relief. There was a stirring in the straw, and he sat up.

“Thank you,” I said. “It was very kind of you. I’m sorry I stepped on you.”
He smiled then, his face changing from a forbidding mask to its usual expression of good humor. 

“No harm done, Sassenach,” he said. “As soon as the headache goes away and the cracked rib heals, I’ll be good as new.” 

He turned back and pushed open the door of my room, which had swung shut in the wake of my hasty exit, owing to the fact that the builder had apparently constructed the inn without benefit of a plumb line. There wasn’t a right angle in the place. 

“Go back to bed, then,” he suggested. “I’ll be here.”

If I were married to a Scot, I would presumably no longer be watched and guarded. It would be that much easier to get away when the time came. And if it were Jamie— well, he liked me, clearly. And he knew the Highlands like the backs of his hands. He would perhaps take me to Craigh na Dun, or at least in the general direction. Yes, possibly marriage was the best way to gain my goal.

So these are times when I see Jamie’s love for Claire.  I might have missed some, but it’s when he protects her, when he goes out of the way to be her friend, when he compliments her.  All those little things.

I Don’t Feel Bad for the Bad Guy.

You know, I’ve dealt with abusive, manipulative people nearly my entire life—and more and more, people want to show “empathy” for the abuser instead of the abused, and we’re too quick to explain away how much suffering that the abuser has actually caused.

One thing the movies get wrong is that they give the abuser some “depth” and “layers” and “multi-dimensionality.” Terrible villains are given backstories to justify their behavior and make them seem like “underdogs” who got dealt a bad hand. While this idea has some merit and it makes good movies, it also creates a harmful narrative where abusive people have a supposedly good reason to be abusive, or external factors are to blame, or you should feel really bad for them.

This completely leaves behind the abused person.

It’s as if abusive behavior can only be redeemed after the abuser sees how much suffering they’ve caused, and if that’s the cost to redeem an abuser, it’s too high of a price. Remorse shouldn’t be born at the expense of trauma.

I can see why the media would “feel bad” for a disgusting rapist and his future, because we’ve become trained in glorifying and empathizing with the bad guy. We offer way too much benefit-of-the-doubt. And yes, some people are just terrible. Not everyone has depth and layers and sad backstories. No, they’re not irredeemable, but we underestimate the detestable capacity for evil and we over-promote self-esteem (perhaps because we then must admit we’re also each capable of the same evil). We use words like “empathy” without also considering boundaries, safety, and trust. Good people get used up because they are fearfully obligated to a morally heightened, hyper-dramatic view of “love,” when it’s really just enabling. And some of us selfishly appear to have empathy to be awarded as outstanding citizens, when there’s neither an ounce of compassion for the abuser nor the abused.

In all this, we force the victim to take the “higher ground.” We trivialize and simplify the victim’s role to be the “bigger person” all the time.

But if we only place the impetus on the victim to forgive, to rise up, to heal, and to reconcile, then we’re not any better than the abuser. Doesn’t the victim have to be redeemed, too, from the pain that was caused? The abuser can certainly feel remorse, but are we going to ignore the remorse that the victim feels from both their pain and “blame”? The abuser can feel bad, but are we going to ignore how awful the victim feels from the actual wound?

It seems unfair to appeal to both sides when nothing about abuse is equal, and it must be on the abuser to pay for their crimes, to make reparations, and to be restricted unless they can prove otherwise that they can be trusted again.

I always want to hear “both sides of the story,” but in cases of obvious abuse, I’m not forfeiting justice out of some misguided sense of courtesy. Justice was already forfeited by the abuse. I must stand staunchly and stubbornly with the victim, and to do that, I must sit with them first, in their pain, not at my tempo but theirs, and to look evil in the eye with courage, unflinching at excuses and rationalizations, and to offer grace when it is no longer foolish, by the plumb line of wisdom and trust.

J.S.

anonymous asked:

I really enjoy drawing but I can never get my proportions right. The face always end up being slightly off and the body either too big or too small and then the arms and legs look weird. How do you get your proportions right?? Btw I love your art so so much!

Accurate proportions is one of the most challenging aspects of drawing! Really to learn proper proportions you need to take a life drawing class. Here are some basic tips: 

Draw an envelope around the model/object so that you aren’t constantly altering the size of it. Dissect everything down to basic shapes first, and ONLY THEN add details. 

You can use your eye and free-draw and keep referring back and forth between your page and the model (whatever it is you’re drawing), but if you want to get them 100% accurate, you need to spend A LOT of time using a technique called sight measurement. I just am learning how to do this in my life drawing class for animation. Instead of me trying to explain it in words, watch this video: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzDGO0LssEM 

That’s what was shown to us in the first life drawing class. You need to do all the steps - ESPECIALLY the head measurement. Draw an accurate head shape, measure it, then slowly and accurately measure how many head lengths each element of the model is (i.e how many head lengths can fit in the forearm, the thigh, the foot, etc). Plumb lines are super helpful too - essentially a grid on your page. See what lines up with what, using straight lines. 

So a summary: 

1. Draw an envelope of the biggest shape of the model. 

2. Draw the basic shapes within that model (boxes and circles). Capture the gesture and general movement of the model first. 

3. Commit to an accurate head length measurement. See how many head lengths fit on your page and enlarge/shrink if necessary. 

4. Sight measuring with a pencil. Plumb lines, both vertical and horizontal. STILL NO DETAIL AT THIS STAGE. Correct and revise. 

5. Once you are pleased with the proportions and basic shapes of the drawing, start polishing it. If you add detail in stages 1-4 and you have to correct things, there will be a lot of small lines and details to correct, and your drawing will look messy and you’ll have wasted time. In a real life drawing class you might not get your drawing done in the allotted time. 

6. After you’ve added the detailing compare it again to the model and make any last touch ups. 

To get a 100% accurate rendering it takes a lot of time. To be able to caricature a figure you have to be able to draw it realistically and accurately. I’m still learning all of this - what I wrote above is essentially what I’ve been doing in life drawing at school ^_^ 

etymology:

“perpendicular” comes to english from (middle french from old french from) latin perpendiculum meaning “plumb line”, where perpendo means “i weigh”, pendo means “i suspend”.

“orthogonal” comes to english from (french from medieval latin from latin from) ancient greek ὀρθογώνιος which means “rectangular”. ὀρθός means “straight” or “upright”, and γωνία means “angle”. the noun form of this word initially meant rectangle, then changed meaning to right triangle, then eventually came to refer to a right angle.

the former is a physical characterization, while the latter is more of a mathematical characterization.

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand.” - Zech. 4:10

This verse is a part of one of the eight visions God gave to the prophet Zechariah where He would reveal to Zechariah His plan for Israel. This vision here was about Zerubbabel, who was the head of the tribe of Judah, who was to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem. What’s important to know about this temple is that while it was important that this temple be built, it didn’t happen right away. The foundation was laid down, but it wasn’t until YEARS later that the temple was finished. This vision, and this verse is so important in revealing God’s plan for this temple, but also for Israel. In the New Testament, God reveals His plans for us by sending His son Jesus Christ to die for us, so that we may have eternal life (John 3:16). This means that God has been doing a great work in His people for a long time…and through Jesus, we’re a part of this beautiful truth. Like Zerubbabel, maybe you laid down the foundation of something in your life and it’s been a long time, and still, nothing has happened. Just know that God is doing something through your small beginnings:

Remember this with…
SCHOOL
Maybe you really thought you were prepared for this class, this assignment, this exam–and still, you scored a few points lower. Still, the person who studied less than you scored higher. This isn’t it for you. Don’t beat yourself up. God has more in store.
CAREER
Maybe you’ve been submitting job applications non stop. Maybe you went to school, worked hard, and for some reason you’re constantly being told you aren’t qualified or you’re "not what we’re looking for."Just because you’re not a candidate for a certain job, doesn’t mean you’re not a candidate for God to take care of your future!
RELATIONSHIPS
Maybe you’ve been faithful to God in guarding your heart for years and yet, a godly relationship is something you desire and it still hasn’t happened yet. Don’t give up yet. Don’t forget who you are in Christ Jesus. Don’t forget that God has a plan (Jeremiah 29:11).

Continue to be faithful to Him and don’t despise small beginnings. -M