Written By Willow
Aug. 29, 2019, 8:21 p.m.(9/26/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Arcadia
Just let me know when and where I can start throwing coins at you to try and obtain a piece or more, and you shall be that much richer. It sounds perfectly colored to match my moss green and antique white silk and lace outfit.
Written By Willow
Aug. 24, 2019, 8:40 a.m.(9/15/1011 AR)
I am so glad that things were seen to without any known lasting injury on the heels of Twilight Dale. The best thing I can think to do toward helping is to see to the construction of an orphanage their for the children who lost their parents in the mess. While the story of many of the people their is tragic, none is worse than that of the children left behind when their parents were lost to the atrocities of those Dark Arts only heretics and foreigners are wont to dabble in.
Written By Willow
Aug. 22, 2019, 8:47 a.m.(9/11/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Bianca
It was my great pleasure to find audience with the Legate again this week.
There are a good many things I learned not long after with Elder Mirk that helped shape the idea going forward, but I look forward to trying to work with her in the future.
There are a good many things I learned not long after with Elder Mirk that helped shape the idea going forward, but I look forward to trying to work with her in the future.
Written By Willow
Aug. 20, 2019, 7:17 a.m.(9/7/1011 AR)
I have never formally had a protege. But I would be quite interested in changing that.
If anyone who chances to read this should have interest, I can be found at the Nightgold Estate, or Seawatch Villa during downtime, should you wish to drop by or send a messenger.
If no one responds then alas, such was not meant to be.
I can promise fabulous jewels, suite housing with waitstaff, sekrits, more secret sekrits. Artwork, clothing, and coins, in addition to some choice connections best not mentioned here.
If anyone who chances to read this should have interest, I can be found at the Nightgold Estate, or Seawatch Villa during downtime, should you wish to drop by or send a messenger.
If no one responds then alas, such was not meant to be.
I can promise fabulous jewels, suite housing with waitstaff, sekrits, more secret sekrits. Artwork, clothing, and coins, in addition to some choice connections best not mentioned here.
Written By Willow
Aug. 13, 2019, 9:19 p.m.(8/23/1011 AR)
**an incredibly detailed charcoal sketch of a dragonfly which on a longer glance is actually a tiny, tiny dragon, perching at the base of a dahlia blossom, scorching away grass next to a tiny woman dressed in robes synonymous with the robes of a Mercy laid out as if sleeping in profile beside it**
Dreams may blur fiction and truth to mark visions which visit the viewer with various symbols and signs unknown to the body in this life. Visit your last homeland, and see the source. Souls tied to creeping lovestories dripped from the subconscious to paint some higher love in another life. The song of the strings soothes my soul, the sweet sorrow as they ripple with sound curling like fingers at the consciousness until the wide lane of history is revealed. Psychedelic, Psychedelic, the Sculptor lives in a haze.
**another detailed charcoal sketch, this one depicting a man and woman's shadowed silhouettes on a beach, he with a violin in hand**
Dark dreams that spin such sights make winter's cool embrace welcome as the heat grasps maliciously, hungry tendrils sparing no inch of flesh. Like a fever, bone-deep, there is an ache. Struggle, struggle, like a fly in the Spinner's Web. The Sleeper's lost in a daze.
Dreams may blur fiction and truth to mark visions which visit the viewer with various symbols and signs unknown to the body in this life. Visit your last homeland, and see the source. Souls tied to creeping lovestories dripped from the subconscious to paint some higher love in another life. The song of the strings soothes my soul, the sweet sorrow as they ripple with sound curling like fingers at the consciousness until the wide lane of history is revealed. Psychedelic, Psychedelic, the Sculptor lives in a haze.
**another detailed charcoal sketch, this one depicting a man and woman's shadowed silhouettes on a beach, he with a violin in hand**
Dark dreams that spin such sights make winter's cool embrace welcome as the heat grasps maliciously, hungry tendrils sparing no inch of flesh. Like a fever, bone-deep, there is an ache. Struggle, struggle, like a fly in the Spinner's Web. The Sleeper's lost in a daze.
Written By Willow
Aug. 12, 2019, 1:09 a.m.(8/19/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Elloise
The unintentional generalized stance of a scientist ruffling feathers. I asked Poppy to keep me apprised of the journals but it seems like they are all revolving around the one if she is to be believed, and Poppy has never lied to me yet, so.
My Lady:
Once there was a pass in the Crimson Peaks which spent decades haunted by the guerilla tactics of a certain band of Shavs. Eventually during a particularly hard winter, their War Chief opted to bend the knee to the late Duke Neddim, in exchange for keeping his position and his family their lands, that they would cease attacking patrols through the area for food for their children.
My Uncle, the late Duke, agreed and even offered to wed in one of his neices (me), and the place become a proper March. Even though the man was old enough to be my father, I grew to love his wildness and his bravery and the kindness of his heart that he would sacrifice everything in order to see the youngest generation of his family safe and fed.
And then a week before we were to be married, his brother killed him in front of me. Arrow through the throat. It was a coup, you see. He believed, as you do, that it was their wildness and not their honor which made them special, gave them purpose. And was willing to kill his own brother to keep him from leading their people down a road he believed would lead to their corruption.
I would tell you their name but all but the children were killed, and their family no more. They are now like so many secrets and tales, lost to the inexorable march of time.
While some Shavs have noble hearts, and yours may be in the right place, your generalizations do no justice to Shavs, Prodigals, or the nobility. Life is complex and sometimes terrible, just like the hearts of men, wild or otherwise.
My Lady:
Once there was a pass in the Crimson Peaks which spent decades haunted by the guerilla tactics of a certain band of Shavs. Eventually during a particularly hard winter, their War Chief opted to bend the knee to the late Duke Neddim, in exchange for keeping his position and his family their lands, that they would cease attacking patrols through the area for food for their children.
My Uncle, the late Duke, agreed and even offered to wed in one of his neices (me), and the place become a proper March. Even though the man was old enough to be my father, I grew to love his wildness and his bravery and the kindness of his heart that he would sacrifice everything in order to see the youngest generation of his family safe and fed.
And then a week before we were to be married, his brother killed him in front of me. Arrow through the throat. It was a coup, you see. He believed, as you do, that it was their wildness and not their honor which made them special, gave them purpose. And was willing to kill his own brother to keep him from leading their people down a road he believed would lead to their corruption.
I would tell you their name but all but the children were killed, and their family no more. They are now like so many secrets and tales, lost to the inexorable march of time.
While some Shavs have noble hearts, and yours may be in the right place, your generalizations do no justice to Shavs, Prodigals, or the nobility. Life is complex and sometimes terrible, just like the hearts of men, wild or otherwise.
Written By Willow
Aug. 10, 2019, 7:17 p.m.(8/16/1011 AR)
**rather than written words, this entry is merely a page covered with ink illustrations**
A three inch rectangle depicts a pair of big eyes, shining on the verge of tears, complete with short thick lashes and being wide open and youthful looking.
A crow and a wolf sit next to a small skeleton, with inky lines crackling like halos of black lightning, or black webbing around them, the wolf's features sharp with hunger, maw and jutting hip bones exaggerated.
Leafless trees withes are braided into skeletal wreathes worn by skeletal people whose features are obscured in specific features but whose body language wears despair like a coat.
A picturesque mountain valley grows sinister further off in the distance, with the trees losing leaves, fields losing grass, and a carpet of detritus which used to be leaves. A human chain of people with sorrowful eyes and exaggerated youth and small stature stand against a dark hooded figure outlined and with features obscured who is sucking the life from everything around it, complete with little lines as if to indicate motion where flowers between it and bushes grow more and more wilted the closer they get to the figure, leaving shriveled black petals raining at its feet as it gestures toward the line of people, as if to lead wolves and crows like a commander.
((A few places on the page are crispy and waterlogged so they have a wavy texture once they've dried))
The only words on the page are: "Twilight Dale, '11"
A three inch rectangle depicts a pair of big eyes, shining on the verge of tears, complete with short thick lashes and being wide open and youthful looking.
A crow and a wolf sit next to a small skeleton, with inky lines crackling like halos of black lightning, or black webbing around them, the wolf's features sharp with hunger, maw and jutting hip bones exaggerated.
Leafless trees withes are braided into skeletal wreathes worn by skeletal people whose features are obscured in specific features but whose body language wears despair like a coat.
A picturesque mountain valley grows sinister further off in the distance, with the trees losing leaves, fields losing grass, and a carpet of detritus which used to be leaves. A human chain of people with sorrowful eyes and exaggerated youth and small stature stand against a dark hooded figure outlined and with features obscured who is sucking the life from everything around it, complete with little lines as if to indicate motion where flowers between it and bushes grow more and more wilted the closer they get to the figure, leaving shriveled black petals raining at its feet as it gestures toward the line of people, as if to lead wolves and crows like a commander.
((A few places on the page are crispy and waterlogged so they have a wavy texture once they've dried))
The only words on the page are: "Twilight Dale, '11"
Written By Willow
Aug. 7, 2019, 3:17 a.m.(8/9/1011 AR)
I am nervous about how the trip to Twilight Dale will end. I am about to depart after writing this. There is word of people going hungry and the fertile valley becoming something of a Wasteland, even the notion there may be a curse of some kind. I just hope there is something to be done to help these people. Nervous butterflies will live in my stomach until contact is made with the locals and more can be confirmed or ruled out.
Written By Willow
Aug. 4, 2019, 7:29 p.m.(8/4/1011 AR)
Oh gods, mornings like this are one of the many reasons I smoke haze rather than drink. I envy the people who forget when they drink. The next day, I /always/ remember the product of my complete lack of filter.
Written By Willow
Aug. 3, 2019, 3:04 p.m.(8/2/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Thorley
I have to admit, I am incredibly curious about these dawnstones you mention, especially after finding a blue-green one said to be from Escuma. Would ir be possible to arrange a viewing of these? You know, for the sake of my art making unique jewelry?
Written By Willow
Aug. 2, 2019, 11:30 p.m.(8/1/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Rinel
How have we never talked before? I am so glad we have now. And I really look forward to more of them. It feels like you are a kindred spirit and I am very, very glad that I chanced upon you waiting outside the Shrine so we had the opportunity to talk directly rather than just being in the same room and involved in different mutual things as we have been prior.
Written By Willow
July 31, 2019, 3:25 a.m.(7/23/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Petal
I was so happy to hear about the stock of new designs at Petal's shop, and when I went, it turned out that they were all just as lovely as the masquerade costume and mask I got there. The leggings are a first. I am not entirely certain what I will pair with them but the way they cling and accentuate and how comfortably they are cut, I had to get them. Also, the twilight colored lions. She is such a talented seamstress, I adore her work, though the dresses are nothing to sneeze at either. I picked up three of those, too.
Written By Willow
July 29, 2019, 7:44 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Eiran
I find comfort in the moments that those who are allowed to truly see me are at hand. The demeanor worn has purpose and every moment of it is calculated and designed to elicit something specific, often months or years down the line. The moments when I am able to genuinely be myself and nothing more or nothing less, are such a rare and utter joy.
I am so pleased to have been able to share a few of these with this young man. He speaks to the heart of who I was before I had to don the veil I have worn for well over a year now. I hope to enjoy his company again sometime soon. Hopefully in private again, so I am not torn between being a hundred percent recklessly myself and acting as the Voice I have been named.
I am so pleased to have been able to share a few of these with this young man. He speaks to the heart of who I was before I had to don the veil I have worn for well over a year now. I hope to enjoy his company again sometime soon. Hopefully in private again, so I am not torn between being a hundred percent recklessly myself and acting as the Voice I have been named.
Written By Willow
July 26, 2019, 1:55 a.m.(7/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Yvon
I still mean what I said as you were departing the other day. You said if I found my time there enjoyable you weren't doing your job. Disagree. The entire reason I first started visiting the shrine of dark reflection was because it was only in examining the holes in my belief systems that I was able to approve my approach, and in learning to do so, and in trying to see things from the perspective of those I have most strongly disagreed with, that my head for leading and understanding those I would work with has been most improved.
Therefore, even if your words and arguments are unpalatable, they still spur on reflection rather than offense if one understands the exercise has little to do with pride for good or ill and is indeed an exercise in thought rather than some personal scolding or admonishment.
Therefore, even if your words and arguments are unpalatable, they still spur on reflection rather than offense if one understands the exercise has little to do with pride for good or ill and is indeed an exercise in thought rather than some personal scolding or admonishment.
Written By Willow
July 25, 2019, 4:33 p.m.(7/12/1011 AR)
I should visit the Shrine of the Thirteenth more. The examining and reexamining of one's reasoning ability is like a whetstone for the mind, and only serves to sharpen it.
Written By Willow
July 24, 2019, 3:32 a.m.(7/9/1011 AR)
Is it folly or virtue when one is more quickly stirred to action by a perceived threat to those they love than themselves? Lacking self preservation or a keen sense of protectiveness?
Written By Willow
July 20, 2019, 1:16 p.m.(7/2/1011 AR)
That so many murders continue happening in the capitol makes me wish my talents were more along that of a knight than an artist. Knowing my newly bought home is so close to Princess Reese makes me feel a bit safer as I don't just love her dearly but I also trust her unquestioningly. She is a rare minority in that.
Written By Willow
July 17, 2019, 11:32 a.m.(6/24/1011 AR)
Limerance is proving a more difficult study than Lagoma as painting ideas go. Little surprise, perhaps, given that Lagoma is associated with symbols of so many things. The symbolism of Limerance is a lot more challenging to capture in a single moment and thus image.
Written By Willow
July 14, 2019, 6:40 a.m.(6/17/1011 AR)
I had the great honor of being able to complete my first painting themed on one of the gods for a friend of mine to hang in his office. I should think I should be thanking him and not the other way around. The entire project was an extended exercise in the contemplation of Lagoma. While I have ever revered the Triad of Creation, it was in the completion of a driftwood sculpture for my home that I realized that in comparison to Mangata and Petrichor, my mental image of Lagoma was sorely lacking. Not so now, I think. This is one of my favorite things in picking the composition of a new work. Always seeking to say as much as possible on the subject in symbolic imagery, the completion of the piece led me to consider the many places Her aspect touches on the Dream.
Written By Willow
July 11, 2019, 5:24 p.m.(6/12/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Grazia
As regards the Crovane-Byrne announcement, I think you yourself proved he would do no better, your Ladyship. Given stereotypes about the Lyceum it is easy to forget all its many lands are not vineyards. Such tart words as spoken today however only prove that were the lands of your Duchy suitable for farmland, they would still prove an inferior vintage, as sour grapes can ruin the flavor of a truly sweet concoction.
I might add that your 'upjumped commoner' not only became a Lady in her own right, but went on to not just become a Countess in her own right but set a new line of succession after rescuing the remnants of a House ruined by its /born heir/ before now moving on with that same dignity, poise, and skill, to add her discerning nature and wisdom beyond her birth to our Northlands' peoples.
I love rarefied and flawless stone as much as the next person but can a man be blamed if he'd rather not take it to bed?
I might add that your 'upjumped commoner' not only became a Lady in her own right, but went on to not just become a Countess in her own right but set a new line of succession after rescuing the remnants of a House ruined by its /born heir/ before now moving on with that same dignity, poise, and skill, to add her discerning nature and wisdom beyond her birth to our Northlands' peoples.
I love rarefied and flawless stone as much as the next person but can a man be blamed if he'd rather not take it to bed?
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.