The Salon Debates IV - Words and Imagery
Words and Imagery - How remembering our history differs, and the impact of those choices.
This is part four in a five part series of debates being hosted by the Arvum Philosophical Society. The purpose of these debates are not to provide answers, but to help people find their own answers and ask new questions.
All are welcome who can honor the spirit of civil discource. This debate will be moderated by Prelate Driskell.
March 7, 2018, 8 p.m.
Arx - Ward of House Valardin - Mercier Tea Shop
Comments and Log
The door opens and Driskell enters the tea shop, the black robes flowing behind him although the hood is off to show that it is indeed the priest known as Driskell. He makes his way directly over to where Sparte is at. A bow of his head is given to those here gathered for the debate and he gestures a gloved hand, "I'd ask that those who are here for the discussion regarding words and imagery please join hands with one another.", giving folks a moment to gather.
Felix enters at his own leisurely pace, bringing with him the smell of coal and forge fire, though his apron is off and over one shoulder, and he's made an attempt to scrub his hands and face clean before coming here. Stepping in and then to the side to free up room for others coming inside, moving to take a seat after a moment of looking around. A little smile on his lips as he settles in, giving a nod here and there, before reaching a hand out toward whomever he shares a table with.
Felix has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
3 Armed Confessors, Confessor Dunn, 1 Grayson Guardsmen arrive, following Gareth.
Catalana gave a wave to Victoria then, a tilt of her head. Licking her lips she then spots...oh yes....her cousin. Smiling brightly, that six food tall woman would make her way over to Niklas with a smile. "Cousin...." With that she hears the start of things then begins to find herself a seat.
Felicia's another to join the debate crowd, it seems, strolling into the tea shop and looking about to pick where to sit.
Cat would seem to get her attention caught and pat Nik on the shoulder before getting herself a seat.
Catalana has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Alban gestures towards Felicia when he spots her come in, an invitation to sit without trying to speak over Driskell of course. Then there is the joining of hands. Good thing he isn't wearing those gauntlets as he offers a hand each (only one) to Zoey and Sabella, unless Felicia joins and gets between him and one of the other two.
"Elizabetta is right over there browsing the tea selections," Sabella grins at Niklas, "You can give it to her right now and we can start negotiations." She pauses when Driskell speaks, "Oh! Is that here? Tonight? I do have the best timing."
Lifting his gloved hands upwards as Driskell prays, the flat-toned voice raising to the group.
"We come here today united in the pursuit of knowledge and understanding, seeing each other not as enemies but instead members of humanity. I ask that the gods look down upon those gathered here today and see open hearts and minds. I pray that the gods see that within each of those here tonight, there is a desire to challenge, to grow, to open the door to the treasure room of knowledge through the keys of questions and debate. As each here are guests invited to this event, I invoke with Gild's blessing the rite of Guest Right; that each here focus on the idea to be attacked and respectfully discussed. Let no one harm physically or emotionally to any who are participating. As guests under Guest Right, may they respect one another and see that not one person holds all knowledge and that we might learn better by questioning ourselves and seeing from the viewpoint of another. May Vellichor grant us understanding, may the Thirteenth allow for challenging discussion and may Jayus inspire to bring illumination to an interesting subject of imagery and words. May we leave here better than how we entered, as friends with mutual respect for differing opinion and a better understanding of the world around us."
With the prayer finished, Driskell lets Sparte and the rest get ready.
Lethe arrives to the debate with a look of curiosity. She prays and then finds a seat.
Footfalls assisted by his cane, Gareth Grayson enters and surveys the room with a hard gaze. Tip-tapping through the shop, the inquisitor makes his way to slowly set next to Sabella and Zoey. Alban gets a slight, subtle nod from the man before his gaze hovers over his cousin. "Cousin." The man says dryly before looking to Zoey. "Lady Bisland."
Gareth has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Niklas has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Lethe has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Driskell says, "Tonight's discussion is on the strengths and weaknesses of imagery and words in remembering our large history. From the north, we have the tradition of the Shamans in verbal storytelling. From the Lyceum, we have the tradition of setting ideas in paintings which challenge and push boundaries. From the Oathlands, we have songs which weave imagery with sound. The Thraxans have the stories and shanties that seem to unify an entire crew to row in most impossible storms or simple markings on rocks and maps that convey important information, for example. And yet we have journals that are written down, stored in the archives here in Arx and beyond. We place literacy with importance, as with words we share and note milestones of our lives. So, I'd like to know first in your own voice, what do you feel speaks to you more strongly when it comes to history? Imagery? Or words?"
Felicia upnods in Alban's direction, though she smiles wryly at the lack of seats, apparently electing to take herself over to Driskell's table instead and dropping herself into a seat to listen.
Felicia has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
When the table fills up before Felicia can get over to it, Alban bows his head towards those seated there. "It was a pleasure but I see a friend who is alone." He snags his helmet, gauntlets, and his tea cakes after rising and moves away from the table to join Felicia and Driskell.
Alban has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Alban has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Sabella has joined the line.
Sparte says something quietly to Driskell before sliding into a seat with a look of a man finally taking a second to relax.
Sparte has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Felicia has joined the line.
Catalana has joined the line.
Turn in line: Sabella
Driskell gestures to Sabella that she is recognized to speak next. "Please introduce yourself too."
1 Grayson Guardsmen, Thalia, a beautiful lady-in-waiting arrive, following Roxana.
Far be it from Sabella to turn down a chance to speak, so when Driskell gestures to her she gives the entire room a brilliant smile and stands up, "For those that don't know me, I am Princess Sabella Grayson, and I would like to thank our host for this incredibly interesting question and the chance to discuss it with such a lovely group. For me, while I am a great lover of all art, paintings of course included, I have to say that words speak more to me, if you can pardon the pun. With words whether they be written or spoken, the strongest of emotions can be stirred. When it comes to history the way we experience it, either sitting by the fireside as we tell our family histories, or at the theater where we watch great epics performed, words allow us to bridge the gap in time between then and now, experiencing what might have been happening then in the most intimate of situations. We fall in love when we read old love letters, we feel the ache in our hearts when the noble prince loses the path of his quest, we cry tears of sadness when we read of a failure, happiness for a triumph. Words are always powerful, but particularly when they tell the stories of our history."
A late arriving Grayson slips into the teahouse just in time to hear a prompter Grayson launch into a moving speech. Roxana flashes a smile to Sabella and looks for a place to sit that does not cause undue interruption.
Roxana has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
"What's the worst that can happen?" asks Niklas of his table, the claps, politely but enthusiastically, for Sabella.
Lethe has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Driskell listens to Sabella as he calls another forward. "Sometimes imagery can instantly transport us in a memory, such as catching the scent of a particular fragrance in the gardens during spring calling your memory to a specific person, a particular place in time. Some might say that words allow you to transform what is written into imagery within your mind, thereby slightly adjusting what is written and that which you understand it to be. Very interesting."
Turn in line: Catalana
Felix has joined the line.
1 Velenosa House Guards arrives, following Alistair.
Catalana stands, her hand smoothing over that small baby bump. "Thank you for putting this all together. I am so happy to be able to make this one." Clearing her throat she nodded. "I am Lady Catalana Kennex, wife of Lord Washburn Kennex. As for my personal preference? What I feel that speaks to me the most is the imagery. Words are a thing of art itself but something about depicting events, stories, history.....that to me is a talent. There are no words yet the artist is able to invoke such a feeling in the observer. Sometimes it is something intricate like a painting depicting a great battle. Other times....it can be a simple and elegant sculpture of someone of note." A hand goes to her chest as the tall woman smiles brightly, a twinkle in her blue eyes. "It is the amount of complexity of an event or tale that an artist contain in a single piece of work that brings me to feel what is being told."
Alistair arrives in silence, a single guard trailing him. His hands are clasped tightly behind his back, and that red jacket of the Inquisition is clear. Likely here to keep track of whatever moral degeneracy these debates are bringing up in the public sphere! But then again there was already an Inquisitor here, Gareth getting a bowing nod of his head as Alistair settles in to watch.
At his table, the scarred Inquisitor slowly shifts his hard gaze, giving the most subtle of nods to Alistair before Gareth's attention returns to the quiet murmuring at his table.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Catalana before departing.
Zoey has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Octavian, a silken spaniel have been dismissed.
3 Bisland pride guards have been dismissed.
Lethe has joined the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Driskell listens to Catalana as he calls another forward. "It is true, imagery can be exceptionally powerful. But then we have complications where the true message is lost amongst a backdrop of vivid imagery pulling the attentions of the viewer and a message lost is an opportunity to lose that key moment where we can inspire the future who look back on our words. These so far have all been excellent responses."
Turn in line: Felix
Felix stands up, offering the room a short bow. "For me, for my work, it's a combination - but words will be primary. If I say 'pommel', or 'hilt', or 'breastplate' - it invokes a thought, an idea of what a person believes that to look like. Or what they want it to look like, when they see it being made. Or if I'm asking how they want a couter, or greave shaped? It brings to mind a piece of armor. Any sword style, if you think of it - longsword, rapier, sabre. That allows me to describe to a person what I am thinking." Felix looks around the room as he talks, a little grin on his lips. "But I've seen some imagery that goes beyond that, it needed no words - and they can certainly pair very well together."
Sparte has joined the line.
"Who are you?" Sabella calls out with a grin, "You forgot your introduction and while you paint a charming picture, without the title we don't know to whom to address our replies!"
Felix adds, on the end of Sabella's call, "Felix Meadson, blacksmith." with a laugh. "Humble blacksmith. Who assumes everyone knows who he is." grinning at the Princess, before he sits back down.
Driskell nods to Felix. "Exactly, words have the ability to hone thoughts and ideas in just an utterance. To pull back the dreaming mind and have it focus, such as when you say longsword, guard, inquisitor. These words represent in essence a concept, an ideal however the ideal is transformed immediately within each of our minds. Yes, we might have large similarities by describing an inquisitor, but then when we start thinking about their faces, their expressions, their tone of voice, the way they move....such things are perhaps better suited to paintings, to songs, to music to describe immediately what is beyond just a single word. Excellent."
Turn in line: Sparte
Felicia grins at Felix briefly,"Funny, I was going to say Master Smith... I've seen your work, there's nothing humble about it." she opines before leaning back in her seat again.
Sparte raises his hand at the wrist, smiling at Driskell before looking around the room. "Sparte Fatchforth. There are some mediums that are a combination of more than oen of the above. A play might combine a song with imagery, being both image and song. A book may have pictures to support the words inside of it, combining written with imagery. Yet to combine written with song..." Sparte tilts his head thoughtfully. "I would very much like to see that done some day. Or better yet, a message that combines all three."
"Leaving so soon? Well, we should have tea sometime, Cousin Gareth. No dancing, I promise," Sabella crosses her heart with a solemn look to Gareth that's ruined by a sunny smile a moment later. "I am glad to have seen you this evening." She then looks to Niklas with a grin, "Oh, where to start? I fear I'd take up too much of the attention of those that wish to follow the debate, so you are spared for now." She laughs, quietly, at Catalana's comment, "And I am glad for it so that we can be family and friends. But, you must read some of Niklas' plays," she says to Roxana. "They're very good and I am very critical."
Gareth has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
3 Armed Confessors, Confessor Dunn, 1 Grayson Guardsmen leave, following Gareth.
"Perhaps one day in the unknown future, Jayus will have sufficiently inspired someone to create just that, Guardsman Sparte. Much like a dream with symbols, words said, music heard, scents and visions experienced altogether. For now though, we have the tools which we have and a desire by the gods for us to make the world a better place. We should utilize careful reflection and not shirk our responsibilities as caretakers of the world by taking all our emotions, all our passions and transforming them into choices that challenge and inspire those we come across. Thinking about our discussion on words and imagery, has there been something within the journals that have inspired any of you to be an agent of change yourself? To spur you to action you mightn't have taken before?" asks Driskell.
"I wrote a will after seeing many others doing it," Sabella offers with a grin, "It was not a very good one, but I thought it might make people smile. Which seems like a very strange thing to say, considering how wills work, but if you'd have read it you'd understand." She assures everyone.
Alistair has joined the line.
Driskell is overheard praising Sabella for: You're an example that our words carry far and wide when we don't shirk the weight of responsibility. Thank you for your responsibility in seeing your will and journals dealt with!
"You're an example that our words can be carried far and wide when we don't shirk the weight of responsibility such as dealing with journals and on behalf of Vellichor, I want to thank you for your responsibility in seeing your will and journals are dealt with; the future who look into the past will I hope gain more insight and knowledge from your choice." says Driskell to Sabella. Looking to the rest, he says, "And that I think brings us to a positive conclusion to the discussion and debate regarding words and imagery. I hope that the next time you write, or sing a song, or dance, paint a picture, write a journal...that you take just half a breath's pause and reflect on whether or not you're utilizing the choice you have to make the world a better place, or if you're furthering the corruption and darkness. No one can force you to a choice, ultimately it is yours, but by just taking a moment to think before leaping, we as a group could make a positive change. Thank you to Guardsman Sparte for this opportunity to speak with you all."
Waldemai applauds politely.
Felicia joins in the applause, before reaching out to touch Alban's arm lightly with a couple of fingertips, tucking away her tools and rising to her feet unhurriedly,"Thank you for your time and your words today." she offers to Driskell before leaning down to murmur something to Alban briefly.
Sparte gives a slightly embarassed smile. "I hope there will be many more opportunities like this for you, Brother Driskell." Sparte looks to the others. "The Salon hasn't been very active for some time, but the mission has always been open discussion and discourse. If you've been enjoying these debates, please help us to organize more in the future. I would very much like to see this become a regular event." He chuckles. "Who knows, perhaps someone in this room will organize the next series of debates."
Mistress Euphrasia, a mischievous maidservant arrives, following Bethany.
Mistress Euphrasia, a mischievous maidservant leaves, following Bethany.
Felix stands up again, brushing a few crumbs off of his shirt and offering Sparte and Driskell another short bow. "Thank you both, for the hosting, the presentation, and the words shared while here. I hope I can make more of them, whenever they come up." a nod to others in the room that he's familiar with, offering with it a little grin. Pausing for a moment to let others depart, before he follows along to leave as well.
Lethe smiles. "This topic was interesting." She looks to Waldemai. "Thank you. Perhaps I will see you at the next debate."
Rising gracefully to her feet, Roxana murmurs farewells to her table companions and offers thanks to both Sparte and Driskell. "Thank you for hosting such a fine event, it has been a pleasure to hear so many perspectives. Master Sparte, if you would ever like to discuss the future of the Salon and what might be done with it, I'd be delighted to be a part of these efforts. I am a member myself and recall it fondly as a way to meet new people and learn new ideas when I first came to this city, and would love to see it such again. Thank you kindly."
Roxana has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Waldemai gets up politely as the lady rises. "I expect so, my lady," he says. "They are fun to listen to, and a good excuse to get out of the forge. Good day."
Catalana stands, clapping softly. "This was wonderful. As a member as well I do hope we continue these. And of course if there is anyway I can help, I of course volunteer." Those blue eyes sparkled before she sat back down then.
Waldemai has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Lethe has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Driskell has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
a black robed Silent Reflection have been dismissed.
Alban has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Felix has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
"Yes, if I can be of any help, it was quite fun! Not that I need the excuse to want to talk..." Sabella says brightly with a laugh. Then she's eyeing Niklas across the table. "I'd correct you, but I think you won't listen. Come, Lord Niklas, if you want your script notes you'll see me home. Catalana, do you have a safe way to get to your residence?"
Niklas snorts softly at Sabella's words. "Catalana is Kennex through and through. She was going to be /my/ safe way to get home."
Cat blinks at Niklas, raising her hand but said nothing. Looking to Sabella she would blush slightly. "Well then...." She looks around then chuckles. Standing she would wave her hand. "Don't worry about me. I will find my way. You two go discuss this play....I can't wait to see it on stage..." Looking to Niklas and laughed. "I don't know what you mean, cousin. I couldn't harm a fly..."
Felicia has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
Alban leaves, following Felicia.
Niklas has left the a round table draped in embroidered lace.
"Mm, you should have thought of that before you decided to get clever," Sabella tells Niklas, finishing off her tea and standing with a bit of a stretch. "I'm pursuing him for possible patronage," She stresses, "And they don't make people princes for that. And certainly they don't make people into princes with hair like that."
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