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Was a really foggy morning and didn't even see the bird until I was looking at this on the screen.
Was playing around with Aviary and saved some changes by mistake. I don't really care for this version, but I couldn't go back and undo the changes. Oh well!!!
Rock pipit (Anthus petrosus)
Meaning behind the name:
Anthus = Greek myth; Anthus' son was killed by his fathers horses and changed into a bird which imitated the neighing of horses (not litterally) but fled at their sight.
petrosus = Latin meaning "Rock, stone" defined as: "full of rocks." Refers to the habitat along the rocky coast where the bird is found.
Pipits were once thought to be a type of lark. But, in 1768 the English term "pipit" was used by birdwatchers in the neighbourhood of London in imitation of the Meadow pipits "pip-it" type call. It was Bechstein who separated the pipits from the larks in 1795, and a new family group name for them was created (using the Greek Anthus in their scientific name.)
There were three main species recorded: Meadow, Rock and Tree pipit, and all three were officially documented by 1843 by Yarrell.
DISCLAIMER: THIS ISSUE CONTAINS GRAPHICALLY DEPICTED VIOLENCE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION
Klarion the Witch Boy had teleported himself to the headquarters of the illegal smuggling organization “The Otherkind”, in hopes of purchasing an item he’d had his eyes on for quite a while. “The Helm of Flame”. An ancient weapon, myths say that the mask can transform your body into that of a demon, if you read a specific ancient script. There is no known proof of this, however. On opposite sides of the room stood several members of the group, working in different ways, like stocking shelves or chopping up wood to make more shelves. Waiting to purchase this item, Klarion had stood silent in the dark, cold, damp cement building, unnoticed.
Klarion: …Ahem?
A bearded man was sitting on the floor, who now looked up from his can of tomato soup to look into Klarion’s demonic eyes.
Bearded man: Eh? Oh, uh… Is this the guy?
The bearded man spoke with a raspy Russian accent, before looking up to The Rip, who was the organization’s leader. The Rip’s appearance was an odd one. A silhouette, entirely blacked out, standing at roughly 6’7”.
The Rip: Indeed it is. Klarion. It is an honour to meet you.
The Rip spoke in a very smooth but deep voice. It wasn’t loud, but when he spoke, it felt as if it was the only thing you could hear. It grabbed your attention instantly.
Klarion: Why, thank you. You know what I came for, yes?
The Rip: I do remember, yes. The Helm of Flame.
Klarion: Mhm! Now shall your servant fetch it for me, along with the script?
The Rip: I’d prefer if you weren’t to degrade my coworkers, but yes, Alec shall grant it to you. Alec?
He turned to the bearded man… Or at least Klarion assumed he did. With a man who appears physically as a mass of darkness it’s hard to tell.
Alec: Alrighty… Just a second…
He took one last spoonful from the tin can, a small portion of it spilling on his bright blue overcoat before he stood up. He set the can and spoon on the filthy stone floor before he waddled to the Helm of Flame on the shelf, before handing it to Klarion.
Alec: Here ya’ go.
Klarion: …There’s chowder on the script. It’s filthy, and that’s unacceptable..! Fetch me another.
Alec: Uh… Y’know there’s only one of ‘em, right?
The Rip walked over to Klarion, and tapped his fingers against the corner of the script.
The Rip: Ghålli-shï.
Suddenly, the script was cleaned.
Klarion: Thank you, that is much more adequate… Now, how much for each?
Klarion rummaged through a leather wallet, while holding the helm and script under his arm.
The Rip: 1.5 million in total-
Klarion: 5 million, you say? Alrighty…
Klarion handed The Rip the 5 million dollars.
The Rip: Ötałlo-kå.
With a poof of purple smoke, the money vanished.
Klarion: Pleasure doing business with you.
The Rip: The pleasure is mine, Klarion.
Klarion: Shalån-Greėm.
Klarion vanished. A moment after, a worker in an orange sweater walked from the shadows. He hadn’t been doing anything to help the organization, unlike the others.
Man in orange: What a brat.
Both Alec and The Rip turned to the man in orange…
The Rip: …What did you just say, Walter?
Alec: Sh#t, dude…
The two other members of The Otherkind stopped working and turned to “Walter”. One was a man in a black coat and orange scarf, the other a young woman in a purple sweater.
Man in scarf: Oh, dear lord…
The woman in purple simply put her hands over her mouth in shock.
Walter: I’m just sayin’. What? You all thought it, be real.
The Rip: You understand in the 2 months of being here you’ve done nothing but stand around, correct? Watching your coworkers work painfully hard while all you have to do is stock shelves, and yet you can’t even do that right? The others have been doing their jobs correctly for years, and after being here for 2 months, you can’t even manage to be kind to my client.
Walter: I really don’t see what the big deal is.
Alec: Shut up! Dude, seriously!
The Rip: I hadn’t had to speak to you about your laziness, as much as it had frustrated me. But this? Mocking a client? You think you have the right to do that?This is where I draw the line.
The Rip walked slowly and ominously towards Walter while speaking…
Walter: He was just a kid, who cares?
The Rip: You’re not listening to me, are you? You never listen to me. You don’t deserve to be part of this organization. You have such little respect that probably didn’t even attempt to remember my name.
Walter: “Rip”, right?
The Rip stood in place…
The Rip: Yes. Surprisingly, you got that right… But do you know why that is?
Walter: Uh… No.
The Rip: Well… Let me show you.
The Rip’s chest and stomach spread open like a vertical mouth, pointed with jagged fang-like spikes. From the gaping void in his torso appeared long, reddish tendrils. The first latched around Walter’s right arm. Then the left. And then his legs. This was the first time The Rip had seen Walter express genuine fear.
Walter: Agh, Christ..! I-… I can’t move!
The rest of The Otherkind were silent, watching what was happening. The tentacles seemed to grow even longer, pulling Walter high into the air as his eyes opened wider, his forehead shining with sweat. More tendrils appeared, rubbing their pointed tips against Walter’s freakishly warm skin. The man in the scarf ran to help Walter, only to be knocked back by one of the tentacles, causing him to be bashed against a stone wall.
Man in scarf: *uff*!
The Rip: Stay back, Malcolm. This is necessary.
Suddenly, one of the tentacles tore the left leg straight off of Walter, it dropped to the floor, blood spilling out from the gaping wound and onto the limb in puddles. Walter tried to scream, but his mouth was being filled by the tentacles. Tears ran down both his and most of the other members’ faces.
Alec: What the hell!?
Malcolm: Jesus…
The woman in purple was silent, her pupils microscopic, her whole body was shaking. This horrific sight had seemed to effect her the most out of the members. Through the gaps between the hands covering her eyes she noticed the tentacles tugging even harder on each of the limbs, the sound of cracking bones echoed through the room. Eventually all three remaining limbs split apart, leaving a pile of broken pieces on the floor. Walter was nothing but broken bones, torn skin, muscle, and large masses of blood. Walter’s head was still fully intact when it hit the floor, however, his eyes were still wide open and his jaw fully extended, staring into the souls of the remaining members.
Woman in purple: No… No no no…
She fell to her knees, her hands dropping to the floor, her tears breaking through like a waterfall. Malcolm stood beside her, putting his hand on her shoulder to comfort them. Meanwhile all the tentacles sucked themselves quickly back into The Rip, before he reached his hand down to Walter’s mutilated corpse.
The Rip: Ötałlo-kå.
What was rest of Walter disappeared. The Rip turned to the other members.
The Rip: I am deeply sorry if you found the visuals of Walter’s deserved punishment a tad graphic.
Malcolm: “A tad”? You slaughtered the poor guy. Look at Cindy here, look what you did.
“Cindy” looked up at The Rip, a hint of rage behind her tears.
Cindy: You monster!!!
She got up and lunged at The Rip, only for him to put his hand forward in a shielding position.
The Rip: Hīdoth-pöl.
She teleported back where she was before.
The Rip: Your anger is justified, though please, take this experience as a lesson. I love you all deeply, you’re like family to me. I’d rather not be forced to punish one of you like I did today. So stay in line. Thank you. Now, back to work.
~Madam Web
DJ Myth Live March 9th 6-7:30 PM SLT Indecent Club
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The uncontrolled passion of Pasiphae, wife of Minos, towards the bull that Poseidon had sent to Crete led the queen to ask Daedalus, the ingenious inventor and craftsman, to build a wooden heifer so that she could physically join with the sacred beast. From their union the Minotaur was born, then the monstrous creature was locked in the labyrinth, also designed and built by Daedalus.
In the foreground on the left is depicted Pasiphae seated on a throne completed by a footrest. She holds in her right hand a long scepter and looks towards Daedalus who shows her the wooden cow, mounted on a cart with wheels. The queen is richly dressed: she wears gold jewels and a diadem; her clothes consist of a purple overdress from which the yellow chiton bordered by a grey band can be seen. Daedalus, dressed in the short tunic of the workers, held by a fibula on the shoulder, has with him the axe with which he has just finished the work. In the background we can see a tree and a temple in perspective, which place the scene outdoors, differently from what happens in other replicas.
Source: “La Pittura Pompeiana”, Electa - Milano (2009/2014)
Roman fresco
Height: 72 cm.; width: 73 cm.
Pompeii, House of the Ancient Hunting,VII 4, 48 tablinum
45 - 79 AD
Naples Museo Archeologico Nazionale, inv. no. 8979
fyi:
The lunar influence on human behavior has been termed 'The Lunar Effect' or 'The Transylvania Effect'. The influence of the full moon remains one of the most common explanations for a wide range of bizarre events from deaths to violence in a psychiatric setting.
~
night wish images (x2) blened and manipulated btw pixlr and gimp
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Myth (2010) by Damien Hirst.
From the Yorkshire Sculpture Park website:
"Myth presents a white unicorn with half of its skin flayed to reveal vibrant red, pink and yellow musculature and tissues. Hirst often takes religious or mythical figures as his subjects, unpicking and disrupting their familiar narratives. Horses have been an artistic subject for millennia and, referencing this tradition, Hirst’s unicorn stands high on a classical plinth. Like all works in this display, Myth makes a playful nod to art history."
Voigtlander Nokton 58mm f/1.4 SLII N
Midas was een legendarische koning van Phrygië. In de Griekse mythologie zijn verschillende mythes over hem bekend. Hoewel hij en zijn vader Gordias voornamelijk uit mythen bekend zijn gebleven, zijn ze vermoedelijk wel historische figuren. Volgens verschillende schrijvers was Midas' moeder de godin Cybele.
Omdat hij de dronken sater Silenos gered had, verleende Dionysos, de wijngod, hem de kracht om alles wat hij aanraakte in goud te veranderen. Toen echter ook zijn voedsel en kind in goud veranderden, besloot hij de macht die hij had weg te wassen in de rivier Paktolos.
Een andere mythe vertelt dat hij een groot vereerder was van Pan, de god van herders en ruige landstreken. Maar door de zijde van Pan te kiezen, beledigde hij Apollo, de god van de muziek.
Pan had er plezier in om eenvoudige deuntjes op zijn rietfluit te spelen. Omdat velen het mooi vonden klinken, begon hij op te scheppen dat hij een betere musicus was dan Apollo. Hij daagde Apollo uit tot een wedstrijd, waarbij de berggod Tmolos een oordeel moest geven. Tmolos verkleedde zichzelf als rechter, een krans van eikenloof op zijn haar, en trosjes eikels hangend langs zijn gezicht, en luisterde naar de muziek. Pan begon, en iedereen was gecharmeerd van zijn vrolijke fluitstukjes. Daarna pakte Apollo zijn lier, en zijn tonen wiegden als golven op de zachte bries, vloeiend en verrukkelijk. Tmolos gaf de prijs aan Apollo. Midas protesteerde en zei dat hij Pan beter vond.
"Dat kun je onmogelijk gehoord hebben", zei Tmolos. "Er mankeert niks aan mijn oren" zei Midas. Op dat moment kon Apollo zijn boosheid niet meer beheersen en zei: "Als je ze op deze manier gebruikt, ben je het niet waard de oren van een mens te hebben". Hij gaf Midas een paar lange, grijze en behaarde oren, zeggend: "Nu lijk je op de ezel die je bent". Midas schaamde zich voor zijn nieuwe oren en probeerde ze te verbergen onder een tulband. Na een tijdje ontdekte zijn kapper het geheim. De kapper durfde niemand iets te vertellen van Midas' misvorming, maar was ook niet in staat het helemaal voor zichzelf te houden. Zo liep hij het platteland in, groef een gat en vertrouwde zijn geheim fluisterend aan de aarde toe. Elk geheim wil echter openbaar worden. Waar de kapper het gat had gegraven, groeide een bos riet, en als de wind daardoorheen blies, ruiste het en leek het te roepen: "Koning Midas heeft ezelsoren! Koning Midas heeft ezelsoren!" Toen Midas ontdekte dat iedereen van zijn geheim afwist, stierf hij van schaamte.
In de mythologie is naast 'dood door schaamte' ook sprake van vergiftiging met stierenbloed.
De zogenaamde "Grafheuvel van koning Midas" in Gordion wordt tegenwoordig geïdentificeerd als het graf van zijn vader Gordias. Het is niet bekend wat er na de dood van Midas met zijn lichaam gebeurd is (Wikipedia).
Wuppertal-Elberfeld, Friedrich-Ebert-Straße 340. Das Wandgemälde „Aphrodite“, gestaltet vom Künstlerduo „PichiAvo“ (Pichi, *1977 und Avo, *1985) aus Valencia / Spanien. Auf ihrer Homepage (www.pichiavo.com/)
schreiben die Künstler zu dieser Arbeit: „Aphrodite-Wandbild in Wuppertal“. Das neueste für den 'Urbanen Kunstraum Wuppertal' (UKW) geschaffene Wandgemälde befindet sich in diesem Freilichtmuseum, das sich der Umgestaltung öffentlicher Räume durch eine Reihe temporärer internationaler Interventionen widmet. Von 2023 bis 2025 möchte UKW ein wiedererkennbares und einzigartiges Stadtbild schaffen, in dem lokale Umgebungen in internationale Wandkunst verwandelt werden. Dieses Wandgemälde ist vom Mythos der Aphrodite und dem Urteil des Paris inspiriert. Die Integration klassischer Themen mit urbanem Ausdruck bereichert die Wuppertaler Kulturlandschaft.“
English translation:
Wuppertal-Elberfeld, Friedrich-Ebert-Straße 340. The mural "Aphrodite" was created by the street art Duo "PichiAvo" (Pichi, *1977 and Avo, *1985) from Valencia / Spain. On their homepage (www.pichiavo.com/)
the artists write about this work: "Aphrodite mural in Wuppertal. The latest mural created for Urbaner Kunstraum Wuppertal (UKW) is located within this open-air museum dedicated to transforming public spaces through a series of temporary international interventions. From 2023 to 2025, UKW aims to establish a recognizable and unique cityscape, where local environments are transformed into international wall art. This mural draws inspiration from the myth of Aphrodite and the Judgement of Paris, integrating classical themes with urban expression to enrich Wuppertal’s cultural landscape."
The Minotaur has always been my favorite Greek myth and he pops up in my work constantly. I've even got him tattooed on my hip! He represents my dark, primitive, animal possibilities and desires, but also the innocent caged beast that just wants to see the light of day. We went to Knossos a few months ago, and it was pretty amazing to be standing there knowing that was the source of that tale!
I lost my original files!!! This is a scan of a print out, so it's not as crisp as I'd like.
2000, digital collage, dimensions variable
Copyright 2006 Richard Russell
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