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The Divinity School is a beautiful medieval building in the Perpendicular style in Oxford, England, part of the University of Oxford. Built 1427–83, it is the oldest surviving purpose-built building for university use, specifically for lectures and discussions on theology.
Divinity School, Oxford, Lierne vault with bosses and pendants 1483 by William Orchard, "One of the marvels of Oxford" (Pevsner). Sketched on site with fibretip and watercolour.
In every breath, a universe unfolds,
Each atom a testament, ancient and bold.
In rivers that flow, in mountains that rise,
The divine essence, a silent guise.
From the flutter of wings to the stars' dance above,
All intertwined in a tapestry of love.
— ChatGPT
Animated and compelling, Rev. Becca Stevens, MDiv’90, is both 21st-century American woman and Episcopal priest sharing the riches of a life and ministry fired by the call “to live by the truth that love is the most powerful force for change in the world.”
www.vanderbilt.edu/magazines/vanderbilt-magazine/2010/12/...
Today was just an ugly day all around. A good cry and playing with blythe does a girl some good sometimes. I literally played with my girls all day - felt good.
What a wonderful way to immortalise one's gift: to have monograms and coats-of-arms carved in stone onto one of the most beautiful stone vaults in the country!
This is the vault of the Divinity School in Oxford, and while theologians debated below, in the vaults, the names of benefactors, looked on...
In every breath, a universe unfolds,
Each atom a testament, ancient and bold.
In rivers that flow, in mountains that rise,
The divine essence, a silent guise.
From the flutter of wings to the stars' dance above,
All intertwined in a tapestry of love.
— ChatGPT
CUENTA DESPACIO
que el tiempo se nos va, te quiero detener en mis manos. Amanecemos desnudos de cuerpo y de razon y deja ya de preguntar ¿no ves que muero por estar? Dejame creer que puedo ver, el mundo como lo soñamos, dejame creer que puedo ver hacerlo como imaginamos. Cuenta despacio, yo no sirvo para hacer tan simple las cosas y no son tan simples, amanecemos desnudos de cuerpo y de razon y deja ya de preguntar, ¿no ves que muero por estar?
William Orchard (d.1504) was a master mason and citizen of Oxford. He was the chief (possibly the only) architect of Oxford between 1460 and 1500. From 1468 Orchard was in charge of the building of Magdalen College, and is believed to have built the roof of the Divinity School, where five of the vault-bosses have the initials "WO" carved on them.
I last visited Oxford about 15 years ago so it was definitely time to go back. I lucked out with the weather - it was a gorgeous day in mid-May 2022, actually too bright at first. I tried to check out as many attractions as possible but trying to navigate admission policies was a nightmare - some places required buying tickets a day in advance and others were closed even though they said they were open. One security guard told me "It's Oxford, things are different here". That is true. Next time I'll stay a few days.
I misplaced my notes, so if you know the names of any of the building, feel free to help me. Thanks.
Walking along Brattle Street, east of Longfellow House, we come upon this seminary of the Episcopal Church. This picture shows the grand architecture of the Lawrence and Reed Halls.
2015-10-29 12.17.14
The solemnity of Corpus Christi is but one example of the sublime liturgical treasures that follow in the afterglow of the Paschal season. It is a most fitting liturgical celebration that reminds the faithful of our Eucharist Lord who remains substantially present with us in our tabernacles until the end of time.
Throughout the ages, the Catholic Church has always remained steadfast in upholding the Eucharist as the source and summit of Christian life. She has always held that after the consecration the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of our Lord is contained under the species of bread and wine. Thus, this feast can be said to be an exaltation of the Church's doctrine of the Eucharist.
The Eucharist is also a sacrament of unity and of charity. By baptism we are incorporated into the Mystical Body of Christ and through the Eucharist our souls are nourished spiritually. “Thus the Lord unites us with Himself through the Eucharist—Sacrament and Sacrifice—and He unites us with Himself and with one another by a bond stronger than any natural union. Thus united, He sends us into the whole world to bear witness, through faith and works, to God’s love” (John Paul II).
May we too go forth with our Lord into the streets to bear witness to God's love in this sacrament of unity and charity!
ANOTHER new boy! This is Bastien, a LLT Roderich on a Dollshe body.
His face up was done by Kleine Katze, who I bought him from. She has done a truly wonderful job on him- I couldn't be happier! <3
A great pic can happen when photographer and model get along very well. One can't do wiyhout the other! www.afrochic.book.fr
“The infinite is in the finite of every instant” ~ Zen Proverb
On the photo blog: www.365daysofsiri.com/2011/11/week-47day-324-zen.html
I know she’s old news fir everyone else but I finally have mine in hand and she‘sso cool, especially the henna tattoos!
A cluster of saints and angels by the door into the Divinity School, Oxford and the vault covered with monograms and heraldry.
An item from last March's Arcade - a skin from this March's Arcade.
And my, what better photos I take now.
Antlers: Half-Deer 'Divinity Antlers'
Skin: Clef de Peau 'Abel 9'
The Divinity School is a medieval building and room in the Perpendicular style in Oxford, England, part of the University of Oxford. Built between 1427 and 1483, it is the oldest surviving purpose-built building for university use, specifically for lectures, oral exams and discussions on theology. It is no longer used for this purpose, although Oxford does offer degrees in Theology and Religion taught by its Faculty of Theology and Religion.
The ceiling consists of very elaborate lierne vaulting with bosses (455 of them), designed by William Orchard in the 1480s.
The building is physically attached to the Bodleian Library (with Duke Humfrey's Library on the first floor above it), and is opposite the Sheldonian Theatre where students matriculate and graduate. At the far end from the Bodleian Library entrance, a door leads to Convocation House (built 1634–7).[1]
On that notepad, you see me writing these words:
I thought I got there too late. My feet were placed squarely on the blacktop parking lot at one of my favorite soul places, a space I have been to recently but haven’t been to, ever, to simply be and write.
Sam and I used to come here during his home school day to collect wood and explore and we still come here so he can ride on the tire swing and we can throw rocks into the river. We have explored the area fully and know it pretty well from those moments, but I wanted to come to know this place intimately by connecting to it quietly, with my body connected to its body, my soul connected mindfully to its center.
The autumn-colored leaves I would kick away from the foot path were long gone, returned to the Earth. Their crunchy selves had surrendered completely and I had missed that process.
Then I stepped into a spot off the path, by a small stream to sit and write and I realized I hadn’t missed the process at all. I stepped onto what looked like Earth and instead, I was stepping into a pile of leaves that was choosing to merge with the soil. My choice to take a moment or two or sixty to be in a space of quiet soulfulness was graciously allowing me to become a part of the process, too.
I discovered how deeply they had piled themselves up, creating a soft sofa and pillows just for me so that I could sit upon them and experience them, their luscious returning-to-dirt-scent. They seemed to giggle as I sat down with my paper and pink notepaper and trusty black mirado warrior and started to move it, contentedly, along the page.
In that moment it was as if the leaves hugged me, welcoming my reality to rise up and meet my longing, leftover from months ago when I was in a time of profound sadness, a time when I wasn’t able to settle into their crackly, crisp newly fallen selves. Instead, I got to sit upon their softened not quite moist selves.
It was then that I heard the unsurrendered leaves, the ones still on the trees that pushed against one another, applauding my return. It is like those leaves held on, bravely, past their amber-golden time to their withered crusty selves so I could hear my message.
Divinity says, “Be with me. Trust. Follow my lead. Don’t try so hard, but do know the strategy that works best, beloved one.”
I felt an exclamation point rise up as two trucks rumbled past and the wind blew and suddenly I was aware that my stomach was telling me of its hunger.
The exclamation was part celebration as I heard the words “Beloved one!” and knew Divinity meant me.
I sat, still, for a moment, just being with the leaves and the trees and the water. I heard a frog singing her song. I smiled in gratitude.
I wrote:
Sometimes surrender comes quickly and sometimes the holding on, like the crusty withered leaves held on, is the surrender. It is in the unknowing of whether or not its right or wrong and being ok with it no matter which way the judgment or comparison lands that holds the power of truth.
Today, do I go deeper? I asked. Do I go further on the path, closer to the larger parts of the river, or did I get what I was supposed to get here, on my leaves-turning-to-dirt sofa.
I smelled the leaves below me, supporting me. I heard the wind play my ears like a drum and the grass and leaves pirouetting and doing a grande jete or many grande jetes. I watched a plane use the air as a mattress. A man with a grey covered hood covering his head and speckled deck shoes covering his feet walked silently behind my surrendered leaf throne.
SUVs and pick up trucks a stone’s throw away rumbled past, separated by steel from all this wonder right here, oh so close.
Did any of the drivers or passengers capture the bright pink of my shirt out of the corner of their eye, strikingly out of context in this place I sat, deeply entrenched in awe?
It doesn’t matter whether they do or do not, but I prayed for each of them anyway.
I realized then that although I hadn’t gone deeper on the path, I had gone deeper.
My heart was swollen with joy.
I wasn’t too late. I was right on time.
This is a really remarkable olive tree. It was given a proper name: Olivo del Tempio di Concordia (Olive Tree of the Concordia Temple).
A sign gives specifics:
"The shaft is internally hollow, spiraled clockwise and inclined towards the south-west. It presents numerous cavities of different shapes and sizes, so that from a distance it seems the result of a modeling operated by some artistic divinity."
Estimated age: about 500-600 years.
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Valle dei Templi, an archaeological site in Agrigento, is one of the most outstanding examples of Greater Greece art and architecture and the largest archaeological site in the world (1,300 hectares).
Valle dei Templi, Sicily. 2018