the belmore


Would you Peak over the edge of Belmore Falls?? Pretty risky shot here from @nkenyon91. ⠀

#getnaked #bodypositive #lovetheskinyourein #belmorefalls #itsonlynatural #feelthefreedom #earth #hike #embrace #itsjustabum #normalisenudity #freethebooty #l4l #getoutside #outdoorliving #thegreatoutdoors #bodyconfidence #adventure #hiking #explore #experience #travel #bucketlist #nakedadventures #nakedinnature #getnakedaustralia

The Genius of “Alayne II”


Exposition is a finely balanced art in storytelling, one which has to be treated with an overabundance of care. Of course, the audience for a story is not going to enter that world already knowing every crumb of expositional material. Not only would such a story be terribly boring, but it would also be devoid of any surprise or depth to characters’ motivations or views.

That said, exposition is so difficult for storytellers precisely because the audience knows it can be painfully unrealistic. No one in real life turns to his or her neighbor and presents an immediately apparent fact, or a fact the intended recipient would be expected to know (need I remind anyone of “I am Obara Sand, daughter of Oberyn Martell” - said to a man who has every reason to know who she is). Done incorrectly, then, exposition breaks the barrier between story and audience; we, the readers or watchers, get the sense that what is told on screen, on stage, or on the page is done only for our benefit. We’re reminded that we’re reading or watching a story, that none of this is really happening. So, if the audience cannot believe that a character in-universe would not know what is being told to him or her, or would not ask about the subject matter at hand, the exposition does not work.

All of the above is preface to discussion of one of my very favorite examples of exposition in ASOIAF: the end of “Alayne II”, A Feast for Crows. The author had a difficult task in front of him: explaining in greater detail Harry the Heir’s connection to House Arryn and his very high place in the succession to rulership of the Vale. Genealogical tables, while (obviously) fascinating to me, hardly make gripping story points, after all, and even the most talented writer would be hard-pressed to turn tracing lordly descent from a great-grandfather to the heir apparent an exciting experience. How boring it might have been to have Harry’s Arryn lineage revealed in some young Princess Victoria-esque way - a ponderous review of a written chart and subsequent declaration that Harry is “closer to the (weirwood) throne than I thought”.

So how did the author solve the problem? By constructing the narrative of Sansa’s Vale arc so that Littlefinger’s exposition at its end not only fulfills  the promise of Harry Hardyng’s importance, but crowns Sansa’s developing political education as well. The manner in which Littlefinger explains who Harry the Heir is fits perfectly with his own character and develops the dynamic of political calculation established in “Alayne I”. In ensuring that the exposition which ends “Alayne II” springs naturally from the personality and development of these two characters, the author dispels the danger which writing exposition poses.

Keep reading


@_maaad_ enjoying the beautiful Belmore falls - Morton national park, Robertson nsw, Australia.
#waterfall #nsw #belmorefalls #australia #seeaustralia #waterfall #tlc #naked #skinnydip #seeaustralia #thegreatoutdoors #nude #nature #babe #naturist #naturism #normalisenudity #view #getnaked #getnakedworldwide #nationalpark #freedom #freespirit


These falls look enormous. Belmore Falls, New South Wales, Australia, Morton National Park.

anonymous asked:

How does a house go about choosing their sigil? Are there laws saying what you can or can't use? If a house finds that someone has copied their sigil or is using one much too close to theirs could they force that house to change? Are there any requirements, like a certain acreage of land or amount of money before you can have one? Do vassal houses have to clear their choice with the house they are sworn to?

Thanks for the question, Anon.

It’s probably best to start by saying that GRRM, by his own admission, has “played fast and loose” with the rules of real-world heraldry in ASOIAF. So I’m not going to be referencing what the (sometimes very archaic and very complicated) real-world rules are about this broad subject - only how it appears to be treated in the books. Certainly as well, the examples I give here are not supposed to be read as the only instances where these happened in the books.

As it’s presented, when an individual is knighted (whether or not he actually gets lands), he is compelled to choose his own sigil, unless he is a trueborn son of a man with a sigil of his own. So, for example, Prince Baelor tells Duncan the Tall that he must “find a new device … a sigil of [his] own”, since Dunk was using Ser Arlan’s winged chalice; likewise, when Bronn is granted his knighthood after the Blackwater, he takes for his sigil a green and flaming chain on a smoking grey field. But a new sigil is also demanded when a family goes from non-noble to noble status: so, for example, when Janos Slynt was granted the lordship of Harrenhal, he chose for his sigil a gold and bloody spear on a black field. When an individual who already has a sigil comes into possession of a seat, they can choose to create a new sigil. So, for example, although Lancel Lannister could presumably have gone only with the Lannister lion when he was made Lord of Darry (as a male-line grandson of a Lannister lord), he - or, rather, his father Kevan - chose to quarter the Lannister lion with the Darry plowman, to ease the transition of power with the Darry locals. (I wish we knew what Philip Foote, new Lord of Nightsong, was doing for a sigil. Ah well.) Of course, this does not include the various personal sigils seen around Westeros, which do not necessarily belong to a reigning lord or knight; instead, they seem to be used to distinguish members of the same family from one another (like various members of House Frey - see Cleos, Benfrey, or the two fostered Walders) or to single out a single member of a family as special (like Lord Pearse Caron, “as skilled with a high harp as he was with a lance”, who blazoned his shield with a silver harp on gold, while still wearing the Caron nightingale).

How does a family choose its sigil? Well, a family has pretty broad leeway in what it wants to use for its sigil. Often, a family sigil is themed to the House’s geographical area: see, for example, the Mormont bear, the Redwyne grapes, or the scorpions of the desert-dwelling Qorgyles. Sometimes a family’s sigil is reflective of its history (like the Florent fox, as the Florents claim descent from Florys the Fox, clever daughter of Garth Greenhand). Sometimes, a sigil commemorates a specific event, like the flames of the Ullers (marking their immolation of a rival family in their own hall) or the flaming saltire and skulls of Qoherys (commemorating the deaths of Harren and his sons in Balerion’s flames, which gave Quenton Qoherys his lordship). Sometimes a sigil is a play on the family name (like the bells or Belmore, or the candles of Waxley), and sometimes the sigil is the family name (like the red castle of Redfort, or the green field of Greenfield). Sometimes a family’s sigil changes over time (like that of the Darklyns, where presumably a new white shield was added for every Darklyn who joined the Kingsguard), while sometimes, a family changes its sigil entirely in one stroke (like the Tolands, who changed from a ghost to a green dragon biting its own tail - a tribute to their brave fool, who died fighting King Aegon I while the rest of the family escaped). Most often, though, we have no idea why a family’s sigil is what it is. Why did House Rogers choose nine unicorns, or House Stokeworth the lamb and chalice, for example? Who knows. 

As far as “laws” … not really:

There are no “laws” of heraldry per se, no college of heralds for enforcement, no formal regulations about cadency and differencing. So individual knights and lords have a certain amount of freedom to bear what shields they prefer and play around with their house sigils… or not, as the case may be.

That being said, since one of the primary purposes of sigils is to identify men on a battlefield, it seems likely to me that there has to be some process of distinction, and some means of preventing others from appropriating shields to which they have no right. We also hear from young Ser Glendon Flowers that Lord Costayne “told [him he] had no right to put a fireball on [his] shield”, as Glendon could not prove he was Quentyn Ball’s son (and would have been his bastard anyway). So, I would think that there has to be some verification process, at least sometimes, when a lord or landed knight chooses a sigil. 

(Of course, this does not seem to have been the case for young Harry Hardyng. By right, Harry should have at least half his shield be the red and white diamonds of his father’s House, with perhaps the other half quartered with the broke wheel of Waynwood and the moon and falcon of Arryn (as his mother was the youngest daughter of Elys Waynwood and Alys Arryn). Instead, Harry’s relegated the Hardyng diamonds to a measly quarter of his arms, with the Waynwood wheel in another and the moon and falcon of Arryn in a full two quarters. Hmm, I’m sure no one could have whispered in his ear to do that …)

What I’m imagining is, a lord or king decides to grant lands to a knight or otherwise commoner. The commoner then devises a sigil, and maybe also words, for his new House. The new-made lord or landed knight then presents his idea to the lord or king granting him the land, who would then approve or deny. Probably, a maester is there to advise, studying the rolls or family arms to ensure that the proffered sigil is not too close to any another family already bears (especially, but not exclusively, I would think, if there is some greater possibility that this family could be on the opposite side of a battlefield). So long as it is different enough, the lord or king approves, and everyone is happy.

Now, I say “landed knight” because it seems highly unlikely that there is any formal qualification process ordinarily when a landless knight chooses a sigil. After all, no one, including Baelor Breakspear, appears to have cared what Dunk chose when told that he could not use Ser Arlan’s arms. Likewise, given that there were over six hundred knights made in the aftermath of the Blackwater, I really doubt the crown (read: Tywin Lannister) went through every one of their proposed arms and considered it before granting approval. Basically, so long as a knight stays clear of trouble - and the family whose arms his own mimic or outright appropriate - I’m guessing he can do pretty much what he wants in terms of his shield; however, if he starts asserting himself around lords who know a thing or two about heraldry, I assume that, like Lord Costayne tried to do with poor Glendon, he’s going to be knocked down a peg and almost certainly told to stop using those arms (and if he persists … well, a lord can call on backup, and a landless knight usually can’t). I could imagine in the same way, for example, that the old knightly Brunes of Brownhollow - who had driven away Ser Lothor while claiming that he was “no blood of theirs” - might not be so happy to find out that Lothor has taken the family bear paw in his own arms, especially if he came waltzing back near Brownhollow. 

The bottom line is, sigils are a vast, sometimes complicated, and occasionally very vague area of discussion, even in the simplified world of ASOIAF heraldry. 

The Queen Regent (NFriel)


Surely one of the best waterfalls in Australia.. ⠀

Thanks for sharing another photo of Belmore Falls @ _maaad_ ⠀

#getnaked #bodypositive #lovetheskinyourein #nature #itsonlynatural #feelthefreedom #earth #hike #embrace #itsjustabum #normalisenudity #freethebooty #l4l #getoutside #outdoorliving #thegreatoutdoors #bodyconfidence #adventure #hiking #explore #experience #travel #bucketlist #nakedadventures #nakedinnature #getnakedaustralia

House Belmore lords of Strongsong, sworn to Arryn

Belmore is a noble house from the Vale. They are one of the more powerful noble houses sworn to House Arryn. Their arms are six silver bells on purple, 3-2-1. Their seat, Strongsong, is situated near a series of lakes within the Mountains of the Moon; a nearby glacial river flows east through a valley to Heart’s Home, and is within the southernmost river valley of the snakewood forest.The current lord of Strongsong is Lord Benedar and he was among the powerful Vale lords to sign the document of the Lords Declarant.

sydney cbd gothic

  • you climb the fig tree shadowed stone steps from the harbour to the botanical gardens. you slip on an underripe fig. you fall. you fall forever.
  • there is a crane on the horizon. there are two cranes on the horizon. there are four cranes on the horizon. there are eight cranes on the horizon. there are sixteen cranes on the horizon. there are thirty two cranes on the horizon.
  • at the powerhouse museum, you follow the prompts of the poorly animated cacao bean and hold your hand out under the chute. what lands in your palm is brown and soft and smells delicious. you eat it and lick your fingers. you keep licking. it is red and soft and smells delicious.
  • there is a seal on the opera house steps. there is an opera on the seal house steps. there is a house on the opera seal steps. there is a step on the opera house seal. it barks indignantly.
  • goths congregate in front of the qvb. they each resemble the statue of queen victoria. the same scowl, the same jowls, the same wrought iron eyes.
  • a dead bat slung over some power lines offers you pingas. it is wearing a tiny pair of beat up sneakers.
  • muscled lads under the coke sign in the cross howl at passing cars. they each howl at different pitches, each a half pitch apart. they howl continuously.
  • on the train to redfern a drunk cunt is muttering about curry eaters. the seat folds back, suddenly, with a clunk. he is no longer there.
  • the baby magpies cry outside your window, so you close it. the crying gets louder. the mother swoops from behind a light fitting. 
  • an ibis dips into a bin in belmore park, bringing out a string of viscera encrusted in glitter.
  • you go to dixon house food court for dinner and look up in the mirror above you. your reflection is eating a different meal. a meal that’s moving.
  • walking down the devonshire street tunnel, the first busker is playing 80s synth pop. the mural is an 80s industrial situation. the second busker has long hair and is playing a jimi hendrix jam. the mural seems more psychadelic. you start running, passing a monkees tribute band, some WWII bond buying propaganda, a jazz trio, an ad for cocaine in bottles, some men in loin cloths hitting things with sticks, cave paintings. the tunnel stretches away into silence.
  • you let your dog off the lead in camperdown memorial park. the dog does not run, but stares. all the dogs are staring at the sky.  how did we convince ourselves it wasn’t red all along?


56 million years ago, a pocket of cooling magma in the North American Plate crystalized into granite. The persistent pressure of the Pacific Plate slowly pushed that granite upward, and the sedimentary rock around it was stripped away by wind and water.

About 15,000 years ago, humans arrived in the region. A group of them stayed and became the Koyukon Athabaskan people.  They called the mountain Denali (“the high one”).

In 1867, US Secretary of State William Seward negotiated the purchase of the arctic peninsula that contained this mountain. He paid Russia $7.2 million. The peninsula was called Alaska after a native Aleut word.

In 1896, prospector and Princeton alumni William A. Dickey named the mountain McKinley after the governor of Ohio. Governor William McKinley was running for president, and he supported the use of gold (not silver) as the standard for currency. According to explorer Belmore Browne:

A few years ago I asked Mr. Dickey why he named the mountain McKinley, and he answered that while they were in the wilderness he and his partner fell in with two prospectors who were rabid champions of free silver, and that after listening to their arguments for many weary days, he retaliated by naming the mountain after the champion of the gold standard.

In 1901, President William McKinley was assassinated by an anarchist who had concealed a gun in his handkerchief.

In 1917, President Woodrow Wilson officially named the mountain Mt. McKinley. Most Alaskans and mountaineers still called it Denali.

In 1975, the Alaska Legislature officially requested that the United States Board on Geographic Names change the name of the mountain to Denali. Ohio senator Ralph Regula effectively blocked the name change for decades.

In 2009, Regula retired.

In 2015, the White House announced that Department of the Interior Secretary Sally Jewell will change the official name of the mountain to Denali. Here’s what some people said:

House Speaker John Boehner (R-Ohio):

There is a reason President McKinley’s name has served atop the highest peak in North America for more than 100 years, and that is because it is a testament to his great legacy … I’m deeply disappointed in this decision.

Congressman Bob Gibbs (R-Ohio):

This political stunt is insulting to all Ohioans, and I will be working with the House Commitee on Natural Resources to determine what can be done to prevent this action.

Senator Rob Portman (R-Ohio):

I’m disappointed with the Administration’s decision to change the name of Mt. McKinley in Alaska … This decision by the Administration is yet another example of the President going around Congress

Senator Lisa Murkowski (R-Alaska):

For generations, Alaskans have known this majestic mountain as “the great one.” Today we are honored to be able to officially recognize the mountain as Denali. I’d like to thank the president for working with us to achieve this significant change to show honor, respect and gratitude to the Athabaskan people of Alaska.

The re-naming kicks off Obama’s trip to Alaska, where he hopes to highlight the reality of climate change.

tl;dr - Geologic forces spent millions of years sculpting a mountain, and then humans spent 100 years arguing about what it should be called.

Edwige Belmore …Rest in Power … I first  met her in 1983 while working  as a ladies’ room attendant at the NYC club Area.  I was new on the scene and feeling awkwardly out of place when  her big beautiful red lips kissed me on the cheek as she was applauding  me for looking  “ unique” .  in 1987,  I was a cocktail waitress at her cabaret night on 13th and 6th . She was the hostess and chanteuse and living life with a passion and flair few can compare. 

if I was, would you be?

April 2, 2010  by Edwige Belmore

My life has been nothing but a blink…. a breath…. a hiccup…. a sneeze….
I’m opening my eyes and everything burns. everything ’s blurred.
I see a bridge, I’m crossing it, I’m almost over it.
Am I the bridge I need to cross and get over? Bridge to what? I’m confused as always, and yet the clarity of my emotions is frighteningly blinding, burning, crippling.
No wonder I’m losing my eyesight along with the rest of my human capacities….
Am I becoming the crumbling stones of what used to be a path, a destination, a temple?
Am I the pounded dirt of a family home, or the dust one kicks in anger? Am I a rock, a root, a pebble, a leaf, a feather?
and again what would be my purpose?
if I was a rock, would you stand on me or hit me with myself?
if I was a root, would you grow with me or trip and fall?
if I was a pebble, would you collect me or throw me in the river?
if I was a leaf, would you gather rain drops on me to quench your thirst or crumble me?
and if I was a feather, would you let me float in the wild wind or wear me on your neck and nestle me on your heart?
If I was, would you be?

Edwige Belmore

The National Park Service turns 100 on August 25th! We’re celebrating with iconic Museum dioramas that are located in a few of these breathtaking 400 parks, monuments, and other sites in America’s national park system. The Dall Sheep diorama is set in August at midnight on Mount McKinley in Denali National Park, Alaska.

Given this site’s proximity to the Arctic Circle, sunshine—even at this late hour—brightens the perpetual snow of Denali, the highest mountain in North America. This peak inspired the painter of this scene, Belmore Browne, throughout his life. In 1906 and 1910, Browne made pioneering attempts to scale the mountain, coming just shy of the summit in 1912. In 1916, he lobbied Congress to protect the area so that its animals would not “follow the buffalo” to near-extinction. In 1917, a national park was established, and Denali’s wildlife is still diverse and abundant today.

Learn more about the Dall Sheep diorama and take a National Park Adventure in 3D at the Museum!