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Another view of the north building at the Plaza de España. You can see the boatman here. It was quite amusing watching a couple in a rowing boat who had obviously never rowed before. They were facing the way they wanted to go, so the wrong way round, but just couldn't work out how to move the boat! The boatman was trying to explain but they didn't understand what he was saying.
OK let me explain, and apologize to Flickr Folks who don't share my love for PLANESPOTTING. I know how crazy this seems. Why all the pictures of the same airline, in this case, FedEx? Well if you look close, you will find a Registration Number that's unique to each airplane. If you type that into Google, you can see that airplane's history, including where it's been flying. I belong to a group Planespotters and they are interested in each individual airplane's history and photographs of it on different days at different airports. So with that, here they are, ENJOY!!!
April 17, 2018
Memphis International Airport (MEM), Memphis, Tennessee
*Not my photo/ art*
Oni is what my style of mecha are called here is a quick short backstory.
1185 A.D. gave raise to the first age of the Samurai. Samurai were mighty warriors that worked for powerful families in the ancient lands, the samurai were both loyal and disciplined there was no warrior more powerful. Like a wave the samurai grew in numbers and power taking over control of all of the ancient lands, until they came, the Oni. All around the world there are myths and legends of mighty monsters able to single handedly defeat armies of men. The home of the samurai received the main force of these monsters and with only a stroke of luck the samurai were able to defeat and trap most of the demons. The years passed and many forgot the truth, many stories meant to save the truth were dismissed as folk lore and legend, and so the world moved on without a care.
The year is now 1304 N.A. (new age) in this era the world, Exia, is filled with many races from other worlds and unimaginable technologies and magic. Sadly warfare is still a common plague the human race, factions owned by the five kingdoms of the world fight to gain power. Many of these factions do not fight with men but with incredibly powerful machines called Mecha; war machines that come in many different shapes, sizes, and origin; each having its own unique abilities. The most powerful mecha are of humanoid form and piloted by highly skilled individuals...
One of the kingdoms on a quest to protect their home unlocked the secrets of the ancient lands. Chaos and death in the form of demons soon followed the discovery. The three most powerful kingdoms banded together to drive back the demons known as Oni. Amid the chaos a small nation known as Zephyria was able to capture injured Oni. With the use of magic and technology the kingdom was able to bend the will of the Oni to their own.
Only pilots with immense mental skill and will power have a chance to sync their mind with the Oni, if the Oni takes over it steals the mind of the pilot and go's on a rampage as a demon killing the pilot in the process and if the pilot takes over all the Oni's power yields to the pilot and the pilot's personality and skills shine through. Pilots must have a compatible style to be accepted by the Oni. Once a pilot syncs (80%+) a Oni no other pilot can enter the Oni...
Meet Lauren, waitress in an Amsterdam pancakehouse. Lauren is a classic beauty. The only one who doesn't seem to notice that.... is Lauren ;)
I ordered some pancakes from her and just had my new Canon EF50 1.4 fitted to my camera and asked her if she would mind having a portait-photo made in natural light, for the 100 strangers group I explained her about.
She hesitated a bit but she agreed. She doesn't like the picture though :(
New to portraitery I put the aperture-value all the way down to f/1.4 and focused on the eyes. I like the result, but next time I'll probably look for a touch more overall-sharpness.
This picture is #1 in my 100 strangers project. Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the 100 strangers group: www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/
Thanks for the cooperation Lauren!
Title.
Stuck in traffic.
( LUMIX G3 shot )
Manhattan. New York. USA. 2017. … 2 / 7
(Today's photo. It's unpublished.)
Images.
Fridayy … Baddest In The Room
youtu.be/Ag3N0B16p3I?si=3BCbywau7vVNWJHP
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Title:
“A.I. - About Apple’s Identity”
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54271473379/in/dateposted...
Will Apple listen to Mark Zuckerberg’s criticism?
I don’t think so—especially not for someone like me who was captivated by the dream of Apple Vision Pro.
Mark Zuckerberg of Meta appeared on a popular podcast and criticized Apple, claiming they haven’t released an innovative product since the iPhone and that their sales have been declining.
While criticizing Apple on a podcast originating from Apple itself may sound like a light joke, I think he was quite serious about it. After all, he now wields the weapon of AR glasses.
Supported by various institutions and a talented team, he may have achieved some notable goals. Yet, as an old Apple fan who’s been using products since the PowerBook 540c, I can’t feel any sense of craftsmanship identity from him.
This critique extends to other leading tech companies of our time as well: Meta, Amazon, Tesla, Microsoft, and Google.
Simply listing these company names likely brings their logos and the faces of their leaders to mind for those reading this.
I once wrote that Steve Jobs wasn’t an artist.
He was skilled at weaving together scattered images from our current world, expanding them, and linking them to the future. That was his specialty.
The one who actually created was Jonathan Ive. There are probably others like me who share this minority opinion.
However, seeing how the IT leaders mentioned earlier change their company policies at the mere prospect of Trump regaining power, I can’t help but voice my opinion:
The AR glasses, cars, and other products they create lack a crucial concept. Whether you call it a profound ideology or a lighter term like identity, it’s missing.
True, Tim Cook and the current Apple team have become more prone to letting slip details about unreleased products.
As I’ve often written, I love music.
When artists isolate themselves from the world, locking themselves in studios to pour their anger, hatred, joy, and sorrow wholeheartedly into a single note, they entrust something to their work.
Once they finish an album and release it, they share what they felt while creating it. (The artist I admire, Prince, rarely explained his works, so I had to interpret his completed pieces on my own.)
Until the album is complete and released, these artists say nothing.
The ones who move me most are those kinds of artists.
The faint light of Apple’s innovation within me hasn’t been extinguished.
Not even last year’s Apple Vision Pro, criticized as a major failure, could extinguish it. On the contrary, it radiates an even stronger light than the iPhone.
This isn’t just a novel electronic device—it conveys a sense of ideology or thought beyond its intricate electronic components.
Unfortunately, I doubt I’ll ever feel that same sense of ideology or thought from Meta’s AR glasses or Tesla’s cars.
I’ve written at length, but here’s my conclusion:
“Apple CEO Tim Cook Donates Over $1.5 Million to Trump’s Inauguration”
gigazine.net/news/20250104-apple-ceo-tim-cook-donates-1-m...
At first glance, it might seem like Tim Cook, like other IT companies, has sold his soul. But that’s not the case.
While Tim Cook personally donates to Trump, Apple as a company has refrained from doing the same as other companies.
Apple didn’t bow to Trump.
If someone were to ask me what Apple’s ideology or thought is, I would answer:
Apple is a group of people who believe in themselves.
Steve Jobs is probably laughing at this overly serious piece I’ve written from somewhere up in heaven.
A company that doesn’t kowtow to Trump—that’s Apple for you. :)
January 15th
After reading a heartwarming article.
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Addendum:
I have corrected it.
Before the correction, it appeared on Apple Podcasts,
After the correction, it appeared on podcasts originating from Apple,
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:
Photo Music and iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/photo-music/pl.u-Eg8qefpy8Xz
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消えた境界線から生まれたもの ～ 去ってゆく川村記念美術館を振り返って ～
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54020588671/in/dateposted...
What Emerged from the Vanishing Boundaries~ Reflecting on the Departing Kawamura Memorial Museum ~
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54020588671/in/dateposted...
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Important Notices.
I have relaxed the following conditions.
I will distribute my T-shirt to the world for free.
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50656401427/in/dateposted-p...
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50613367691/in/dateposted-p...
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Exhibition in 2025
Theme
The Nightfly
Images
Donald Fagen … I.G.Y.
youtu.be/Ueivjr3f8xg?si=xmqGPQjyIKoTs4Q5
Live.
youtu.be/Di0_KYtmVKI?si=CLFpU2n0gXahqLPB
Mitsushiro - Nakagawa
Organizer
Design Festa
Location
Tokyo Big Sight
Date
Autumn 2025.
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
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Notice regarding "Lot No.402_”.
From now on I will host "Lot No.402_".
The work of Leonardo da Vinci who was sleeping.
That is the number when it was put up for auction.
No sign was written on the work.
So this work couldn't conclude that it was his work.
However # as a result of various appraisals # it was exposed to the sun.
A work that no one notices. A work that speaks quietly without a title.
I will continue to strive to provide it to many people in various ways.
October 24 2020 by Mitsushiro - Nakagawa.
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot No. 402 _.Copyright©︎2025 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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Profile.
In November 2014 # we caught the attention of the party selected to undertake the publicity for a mobile phone that changed the face of the world with just a single model # and will conclude a confidentiality agreement with them.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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Interviews and novels.
About my book.
I published a book a long time ago.
At that time # I uploaded my interview as a PDF on the internet.
Its Japanese and English.
I will publish it for free.
For details # I explained to the Amazon site.
How to write a novel.
How to take a picture.
A sense of distance to the work.
All of these have something in common.
I wrote down what I felt and left it.
I hope my text will be read by many people.
Thank you.
Mitsushiro.
1 Interview in English
2 novels. unforgettable 'English version.(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
3 Interview Japanese version
4 novels. unforgettable ' JPN version.
5 A streamlined trajectory. only Japanese.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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iBooks. Electronic Publishing. It is free now.
0.about the iBooks.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
1.unforgettable '(ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...
2.unforgettable '(JNP.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...
3. Streamlined trajectory.(For Japanese only.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8... =11
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My Novel : Unforgettable'
(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
Synopsis
Kei Kitami, who is aiming for university, meets Kaori Uemura, an event companion who is 6 years older than her, on SNS.
Kaori's dream of coming to Tokyo is to become friends with a famous artist.
For that purpose, the radio station's producer, Ryo Osawa, was needed.
Osawa speaks to Kaori during a live radio broadcast.
"I have a wife and children. But I want to meet you."
Rika Sanjo, who is Kei's classmate and has feelings for him, has been looking into her girlfriend Kaori's movements. . . . .
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .
images.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related
Main story
There are two reasons why a person faces the sea.
One to enjoy a slice of shine in the sea like children bubbling over in the beach.
The other to brush the dust of memory like an old man who misses old days staring at the shine
quietly.
Those lead to only one meaning though they do not seem to overlap. It’s a rebirth.
I face myself to change tomorrow a vague day into something certain.
That is the meaning of a rebirth.
I had a very sweet girlfriend when I was 18.
After she left I knew the meaning of gentleness for the first time and also a true pain of loss. After
she left # how many times did I depend too much on her # doubt her # envy her and keep on telling lies
until I realized it is love?
I wonder whether a nobody like me could have given something to her who was struggling in the
daily life in those days. Giving something is arrogant conceit. It is nothing but self-satisfaction.
I had been thinking about such a thing.
However I guess what she saw in me was because I had nothing. That‘s why she tried to see
something in me. Perhaps she found a slight possibility in me # a guy filled with ambiguous unstable
tomorrow. But I wasted days depending too much on her gentleness.
Now I finally can convey how I felt in those days when we met.
1/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...
2/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...
3/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...
4/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...
5/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...
6/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...
7/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...
8/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...
9/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...
Fin.
images.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related
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Title of my book : unforgettable'
Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Out Now.
ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
in Amazon.
Unforgettable’ amzn.asia/d/eG1wNc5
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The schedule of the next novel.
Still would stand all time. (Unforgettable '2)
(It will not go away forever)
Please give me some more time. That is Japanese.
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My Works.
1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...
2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...
3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...
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Do you want to hear my voice?
:)
1
About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. First type.
2
About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. Second type.
3
About when I started Fotolog. Architect 's point of view.
4
Why did not you have a camera so far?
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What is the coolest thing? The photo is as it is.
6
About the current YouTube bar. I also want to tell # I want to leave.
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About Japanese photographers. Japanese YouTube bar is Pistols.
8
The composition of the photograph is sensibility. Meet the designers in Milan. Two questions.
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What is a good composition? What is a bad composition?
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What is the time to point the camera? It is slow if you are looking into the viewfinder or display.
11
Family photos. I can not take pictures with others. The inside of the subject.
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About YouTube 's photographer. Camera technology etc. Sensibility is polished by reading books.
13
About the Japanese newspaper. A picture of a good newspaper is Reuters. If you continue to look at useless photographs # it will be useless.
14
About Japanese photographers. About the exhibition.
Summary. I wrote a novel etc. What I want to tell the most.
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I talked about how to make a work.
About work production 1/2
About work production 2/2
1 Photo exhibition up to that point. Did you want to go?
2 Well # what is an exhibition that you want to visit even if you go there?
3 Challenge to exhibit one work every month before opening a solo exhibition at the Harajuku Design Festa.
4 works are materials and silhouettes. Similar to fashion.
5 Who is your favorite artist? What is it? Make it clear.
6 Creating a collage is exactly the same as taking photos. As I wrote in the interview # it is the same as writing a novel.
7 I want to show it to someone # but I do not make a piece to show it. Aim for the work you want to decorate your own room as in the photo.
8 What is copycat? Nowadays # it is suspected to be beaten. There is something called Mimesis?
kotobank.jp/word/Mimesis-139464
9 What is Individuality? What is originality?
www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/
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Explanation of composition. 2
1.Composition explanation 2 ... 1/4
2.Composition explanation 2 ... 2/4
3.Composition Explanation 2 ... 3/4
4.Composition Explanation 2 ... 4/4
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My shutter feeling.
Today's photo.
It is a photo taken from Eurostar.
This video is an explanation.
I went to Milan in 2005.
At that time # I went from Milan to Venice.
We took Eurostar into the transportation.
This photo was not taken from a very fast Eurostar.
When I changed the track # I took a picture at the moment I slowed down.
Is there a Japanese beside you?
Please have my video translated.
:)
In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...
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Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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flickr.
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/
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instagram.
www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/
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Pinterest.
www.pinterest.jp/MitsushiroNakagawa/
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YouPic
youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/
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twitter.
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facebook.
www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa
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threads.
www.threads.net/@mitsushiro_nakagawa
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Blue sky.
bsky.app/profile/mitsushironakagawa.bsky.social
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Amazon.
www.amazon.co.jp/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHSKI3YMYPYE5UE...
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My statistics (as of December 15, 2024)
How many views have you had on Flickr and Youpic
Flickr 24,260,172 Views
Youpic 7,957,826 Views
x.com/mitsushiro/status/1868185157909582014
My statistics (as of August 1, 2024)
How many views have I had on Flickr and Youpic
Flickr 23,192,383 Views
Youpic 7,574,603 Views
My statistics. (As of February 7, 2024)
What is the number of accesses to Flickr and YouPic
Flickr 21,694,434 Views
Youpic 7,003,230 Views
What is the number of accesses to Flickr and YouPic?
(As of November 13, 2023)
Flickr 20,852,872 View
Youpic 6,671,486 View
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Japanese is the following.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot No. 204 _ . Copyright©︎2024 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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Title.
渋滞中。
( LUMIX G3 shot )
マンハッタン。ニューヨーク。アメリカ。2017. … 2 / 7
(今日の写真。それは未発表です。）
Images.
Fridayy … Baddest In The Room
youtu.be/Ag3N0B16p3I?si=3BCbywau7vVNWJHP
::写真の音楽とiTunesプレイリストをリンク::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/photo-music/pl.u-Eg8qefpy8Xz
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重要なお知らせ。
僕は以下の条件を緩和します。
僕はTシャツを無料で世界中へ配布します。
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50656401427/in/dateposted-p...
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50613367691/in/dateposted-p...
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２０２5年の展示
テーマ
The Nightfly
Images
Donald Fagen … I.G.Y.
youtu.be/Ueivjr3f8xg?si=xmqGPQjyIKoTs4Q5
Live.
youtu.be/Di0_KYtmVKI?si=CLFpU2n0gXahqLPB
Mitsushiro - Nakagawa
主催
デザインフェスタ
場所
東京ビッグサイト
日程
2025年 秋。
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
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タイトル
“” A.I. アップルのアイデンティティについて””
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54271473379/in/dateposted...
マークザッカーバーグ氏の批判に、アップルは耳を傾けるだろうか。
僕にはそう思えない。アップルヴィジョンプロに夢を見せられた僕には。
メタのマークザッカーバーグ氏は、有名なポッドキャストに出演し、アップルはアイフォン以来革新的な製品を発売せず、売り上げも落ちていると批判したようだ。
アップル発祥のポッドキャストに現れ、アップルを批判すると言うのは軽いジョークに思えるが、真剣に訴えたんだろうと僕は思う。
なぜなら、今の彼はARグラスという武器を手にしているからだ。
おそらく、さまざまな関係機関や優秀なスタッフが彼を支え、それなりの目標を達成したんだろうが、パワーブック５４０cから使い続けてきた僕のような古いアップルファンからしてみれば、まだ物作りのアイデンティを彼からはまったく感じない。
これは他の、現在世界を制覇しているIT企業らも含む。
メタ、アマゾン、テスラ。マイクロソフト。グーグル。
社名が並ぶだけで、このテキストを読まれている方は名前と顔をすでに浮かべているはずだ。
僕は以前、スティーブ・ジョブズはアーティストではないと書いた。
彼は、現世界に散らばったイメージを紡ぎ合わせ、それを膨らます。そして未来へリンクさせる。それが得意だっただけだ。
実際に創作していたのはジョナサンアイブだ。少数ながらも僕のような意見を持っている方もいるだろう。
しかし、先述したIT関連の面々が、トランプ氏に再び権力が戻るとなった途端に会社の方針を覆す様子を見ていると、僕は一言、どうしても意見したいのだ。
彼らが作ったARグラスや車などには、肝心な観念が欠けている。思想という重い言葉や、軽めのアイデンティティと言い換えてもいい。
確かに、ティムクック氏やアップルの現在のスタッフらは、発売前の商品に関して口を滑らせることが多くなった。
僕は、以前から書いているように音楽が大好きだ。
外界を断ち、アーティストらがスタジオにこもって、怒りや憎しみ、喜びや悲しみを一心不乱になって一音に吹き込む。何かを託すと言ってもいい。
そして、完成したアルバムを発表し、どんな思いを込めて制作したのかを語る。（僕が好きなプリンスはほとんど語らなかったので、完成された作品を理解する必要があった）
アルバムが完成し、発表するまで、彼らはひとことも語らない。
僕の胸を震わせたのは、そんなアーティストらだった。
僕の中に淡く灯っているアップルの革新性は、いまでも消えていない。
それは昨年、大失敗だと批判されたアップルヴィジョンプロでさえも消すことはできない。むしろ、アイフォン以上の強烈な光を放っている。
ただの斬新な電化製品ではなく、細かな電気部品の向こうに観念や思想を感じるからだ。
残念ながら、メタのARグラスやテスラの車に、僕がその観念や思想を感じることは今後もないだろう。
長々と書いてきたが、結論は以下の記事だ。
1.5億円超をAppleのティム・クックCEOがトランプの大統領就任式に寄付
gigazine.net/news/20250104-apple-ceo-tim-cook-donates-1-m...
一読すると、ティムクック氏も他のIT会社同様、魂を売ったのかと思われるがそうではない。
ティムクック氏は個人的にトランプ氏へ献金をするが、アップル社だけは他社と同じようには献金していない。
アップルは、トランプ氏になびかなかったのだ。
アップル社の観念や思想とは、具体的に何かと訊かれたら、僕はこう答える。
アップルとは、自分自身を信じる人間が集まっているグループだ。
たぶん、天国のスティーブ・ジョブズは、僕がクソ真面目に書いたテキストを、鼻で笑っていることだろう。
トランプ氏に媚びない会社。
それがAppleさ。:)
１月１５日
嬉しい記事を読んだ後で。
Mitsushiro Nakagawa.
追記。
修正しました。
修正前 アップルのポッドキャストに現れ、
修正後 アップル発祥のポッドキャストに現れ、
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” Lot No.402_ ” に関するお知らせ。
今後、僕は、” Lot No.402_ ”を主催します。
このロットナンバーは、眠っていたレオナルドダヴィンチの作品がオークションにかけらた際に付されたものです。
作品にはサインなどがいっさい記されていなかったため、彼の作品だと断定できませんでした。
しかし、様々な鑑定の結果、陽の光を浴びました。
誰にも気づかれない作品。肩書がなくとも静かに語りかける作品。
僕はこれから様々な形で、多くの皆様に提供できるよう努めてゆきます。
2020年10月24日 by Mitsushiro - Nakagawa.
Copyright©︎2021 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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プロフィール
2014年11月、たった1機種で世界を塗り替えた携帯電話の広告を請け負った選考者の目に留まり、秘密保持同意書を結ぶ。
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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インタビューと小説。
僕の本について。
僕は、昔に本を出版しました。
その際に、僕のインタビューをPDFでネット上へアップロードしていました。
その日本語と英語。
僕は、無料でを公開します。
詳細は、アマゾンのサイトへ解説しました。
小説の書き方。
写真の撮影方法。
作品への距離感。
これらはすべて共通項があります。
僕は、僕が感じたことを文章にして、残しました。
僕のテキストが多くの人に読んでもらえることを望みます。
ありがとう。
Mitsushiro.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
１ インタビュー 英語版
２ 小説。unforgettable’ 英語版。
３ インタビュー 日本語版
４ 小説。unforgettable’ 日本語版。(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)
(四百字詰め原稿用紙４５６枚)
あらすじ
大学を目指している北見ケイは、SNS上で、6歳年上のイベントコンパニオン、上村香織に出会う。
上京してきた香織の夢は、有名なアーティストの友達になるためだ。
そのためにはラジオ局のプロデューサー、大沢亮の存在が必要だった。
大沢は、ラジオの生放送中、香織へ語りかける。
「僕には妻子がある。しかし、僕は君に会いたいと思っている」
ケイの同級生で、彼を想っている三條里香は、香織の動向を探っていた。。。。。
本編
人が海へ向かう理由には、二つある。
ひとつは、波打ち際ではしゃぐ子供のように、今の瞬間の海の輝きを楽しむこと。
もうひとつは、その輝きを静かに見据えて、過ぎ去った日々を懐かしむ老人のように記憶の埃を払うこと。
二つは重なり合わないようではあるけれども、たったひとつの意味しか生まない。
再生だ。
明日っていう、曖昧な日を確実なものへと変えてゆくために、自分の存在に向き合う。
それが再生の意味だ。
十八歳だった僕には大切な人がいた。
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
５ 流線形の軌跡。 日本語のみ。
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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iBooks.電子出版。（現在は無料）
0.about the iBooks.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
1.unforgettable’ ( ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...
For Japanese only.
2.unforgettable’ ( JNP.ver.)(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...
3.流線形の軌跡。
itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8...
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僕の小説。英語版
My Novel Unforgettable' (This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .
1/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...
2/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...
3/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...
4/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...
5/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...
6/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...
7/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...
8/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...
9/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...
Fin.
images.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related
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Title of my book : unforgettable'
Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Out Now.
ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
in Amazon.
Unforgettable’ amzn.asia/d/eG1wNc5
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僕の作品。
1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...
2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...
3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...
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あなたは僕の声を聞きたいですか？
:)
1
フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。１種類目。
2
フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。２種類目。
3
Fotologを始めた時について。 建築家の視点。
4
なぜ、今までカメラを手にしなかったのか？
5
何が一番かっこいいのか？ 写真はありのままに。
6
現在のユーチューバーについて。僕も伝え、残したい。
7
日本人の写真家について。日本のユーチューバーはピストルズ。
8
写真の構図は、感性。ミラノのデザイナーに会って。二つの質問。
9
良い構図とは？ 悪い構図とは？
10
カメラを向ける時とは？ ファインダーやディスプレイを覗いていては遅い。
11
家族写真。他人では撮れない。被写体の内面。
12
ユーチューブの写真家について。カメラの技術等。感性は、本を読むことで磨く。
13
日本の新聞について。良い新聞の写真はロイター。ダメな写真を見続けるとダメになる。
14
日本の写真家について。その展示について。
まとめ。僕が書いた小説など。僕が最も伝えたいこと。
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作品制作について 1/2
作品制作について 2/2
１ それまでの写真展。自分は行きたいと思ったか？
２ じゃ、自分が足を運んででも行きたい展示とは何か？
３ 原宿デザインフェスタで個展を開くまでに、毎月ひとつの作品を展示することにチャレンジ。
４ 作品とは、素材とシルエット。ファッションと似ている。
５ 自分が好きなアーティストは誰か？ どんなものなのか？ そこをはっきりさせる。
６ コラージュの作成も写真の撮り方と全く同じ。インタビューに書いたように小説の書き方とも同じ。
７ 誰かに見せたい、見せるがために作品は作らない。写真と同じように自分の部屋に飾りたい作品を目指す。
８ パクリとは何か？ 昨今、叩かれるパクリ疑惑。ミメーシスとは？
https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/ミメーシス
https://kotobank.jp/word/ミメーシス-139464
９ 個性とはなにか？ オリジナリティってなに？
おまけ 眞子さまについて
という流れです。
お時間がある方は是非聴いてください。
:)
www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/
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構図の解説２
1.構図の解説２ ... 1/4
2.構図の解説２ ... 2/4
3.構図の解説２ ... 3/4
4.構図の解説２ ... 4/4
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僕のシャッター感覚
In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...
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Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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flickr.
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/
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YouTube.
www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/
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instagram.
www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/
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Pinterest.
www.pinterest.jp/MitsushiroNakagawa/
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YouPic
youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/
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fotolog
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twitter.
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facebook.
www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa
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threads.
www.threads.net/@mitsushiro_nakagawa
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Blue sky.
bsky.app/profile/mitsushironakagawa.bsky.social
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Amazon.
www.amazon.co.jp/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHSKI3YMYPYE5UE...
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僕の統計。（2024年12月15日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 24,260,172 View
Youpic 7,957,826 View
x.com/mitsushiro/status/1868185157909582014
僕の統計。（2024年8月1日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 23,192,383 View
Youpic 7,574,603 View
僕の統計。（2024年2月7日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 21,694,434 View
Youpic 7,003,230 View
僕の統計。（2023年11月13日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 20,852,872 View
Youpic 6,671,486 View
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Japanese is the following.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot no.204_ . Copyright©︎2020 Lot no.204_ All rights reserved.
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” Lot No.402_ ” に関するお知らせ。
今後、僕は、” Lot No.402_ ”を主催します。
このロットナンバーは、眠っていたレオナルドダヴィンチの作品がオークションにかけらた際に付されたものです。
作品にはサインなどがいっさい記されていなかったため、彼の作品だと断定できませんでした。
しかし、様々な鑑定の結果、陽の光を浴びました。
誰にも気づかれない作品。肩書がなくとも静かに語りかける作品。
僕はこれから様々な形で、多くの皆様に提供できるよう努めてゆきます。
2020年10月24日 by Mitsushiro - Nakagawa.
Copyright©︎2024 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
_________________________________
_________________________________
The S-Bahn, east and west, was under the control of the East German regime.
This and many other of my photographs are featured in my book "Berlin in the Cold War, 1959-1966" (Allan Hailstone, Amberley Publishing, October 2017), together with the story of my experiences of photographing divided Berlin in those years.
Go with the (silicate) flow
Webb’s observations of the protostar EC 53 uncovered long sought-after evidence to explain why comets at the edge of our solar system contain crystalline silicates. These comets are found in the ultracold Kuiper Belt and Oort Cloud yet these minerals require intense heat to form. Scientists have shown in the past that these minerals also exist in protoplanetary disks around other stars - but they weren’t sure how they got there.
Webb showed for the first time that the hot, inner part of the disk of gas and dust surrounding a very young, actively forming star is where crystalline silicates are forged. Webb also revealed a strong outflow that is capable of carrying the crystals to the outer edges of this disk, cold and distant locales, where comets may eventually form. Compared to our own fully formed, mostly dust-cleared solar system, the crystals would be forming approximately between the Sun and the Earth. These silicates are indeed common minerals found on Earth.
Researchers mapped how the crystals move throughout the system, showing how the star creates and distributes these particles, which are each smaller than a grain of sand. In this image taken by Webb’s NIRCam, one set of winds and scattered light from EC 53’s disk is shown as a white semi-circle angled toward the right.
Read more: go.nasa.gov/49zVemU
Image description: A young star-forming region is filled with wispy orange, red, and blue layers of gas and dust. At center-left, a larger star is circled. It has prominent diffraction spikes and an arc of white at right.
Image credit: NASA, ESA, CSA, STScI, Klaus Pontoppidan (NASA-JPL), Joel Green (STScI); Image Processing: Alyssa Pagan (STScI)
Why does star KIC 8462852 keep wavering? Nobody knows. A star somewhat similar to our Sun, KIC 8462852 was one of many distant stars being monitored by NASA's robotic Kepler satellite to see if it had planets. Citizen scientists voluntarily co-inspecting the data along with computers found this unusual case where a star's brightness dropped at unexpected times by as much as 20 percent for as long as months -- but then recovered. Common reasons for dimming -- such as eclipses by orbiting planets or stellar companions -- don't match the non-repetitive nature of the dimmings. A currently debated theory is dimming by a cloud of comets or the remnants of a shattered planet, but these would not explain data indicating that the star itself has become slightly dimmer over the past 125 years. Nevertheless, featured here is an artist's illustration of a planet breaking up, drawn to depict NGC 2547-ID8, a different system that shows infrared evidence of such a collision. Recent observations of KIC 8462852 did not detect the infrared glow of a closely orbiting dust disk, but gave a hint that the system might have such a disk farther out. Future observations are encouraged and creative origin speculations are sure to continue. via NASA ift.tt/1sBV1YS
The Battle of Bowmanville is said to be the closest Canada ever came to the fighting in WWII but it is probably one of the strangest war battles you will ever hear about. This battle was not fought with guns and bombs it was fought with baseball bats, hockey sticks and anything else they could find. This battle occurred between Saturday, October 10th, 1942 and Monday, October 12th, 1942.
What caused this battle? Well the shortest, easiest way to explain it is that Hitler gave the order to have Canadian PoWs shackled. So Britain said that they would do the same and sent the order to the Canadian government that German P.O.W.s would be shackled as well and the shackles would not be taken off until the Germans removed the shackles from the Canadian P.O.W.s. So when the word came down to Camp 30 that it was to shackle 100 German prisoners the head of the camp met with the highest ranking soldiers within the camp and asked for volunteers to be shackled. I'm sure you can imagine the response this request received. There were no volunteers and the next time the guards went into the camp to for a roll call they found that the P.O.W.s had barricaded themselves into the buildings and refused to come out.
The Camp 30 guards then called in reinforcements, commandos in training from Kingston and Barriefield. These young trainees were eager to fight the Germans.It took two attempts to regain control of the Mess hall, this is where a few Canadian soldiers were injured, one was struck in the head with a jar of jam. During the second and successful attempt to regain control of the Mess hall soldiers also chose to retake House 4 at the same time. Their approach for this building was much different than the one used for the Mess hall. For House 4 soldiers set up a fire house and poured water into the basement of the house (where the prisoners were hiding). The German soldiers eventually gave up and came up the stairs 2 by 2 with their hands in the air. After this the remaining Houses were taken back without much incident.
After the battle of Bowmanville the soldiers remained shackled until December 11, 1942. Although, it is said that much earlier as a guard was leaving he dropped his keys so that P.O.W.'s would be able remove their shackles during the day and put them back on for roll calls.
History of Buildings
Camp 30 is located at 2020 Lambs Rd. in Bowmanville, ON. From October 1941 to April 1945 this was known as Camp 30 but what was this area used for before that or after the P.O.W.'s left? That is what this article is about, how camp 30 became camp 30.
In 1922 Mr. John H. H. Jury donated his 300 acre farm (also known as the Darch Farm) to the government for them to build a school for "unadjusted boys who were not inherently delinquent". In 1927 the buildings we know as camp 30 were complete. School continued here until April 1941 when the government gave word that the school had to find a new home for the boys because the site would be turned into a prisoner of war camp right away. It is said many of the boys went to their respective homes while some others were relocated within Bowmanville to the "Rathskamoray" (the present day Lion's Centre) and some other locations.
Canadian officials had barely seven months to transform 2020 Lambs Road from school for boys to prisoner of war camp. Luckily the school was designed to hold lots of people but there were many tasks to covert this school to a P.O.W. camp: build wire fences (15ft apart), guard towers (9), gates and barracks for the Canadian guards. This was completed in October of 1941 as the first P.O.W.s began to arrive.
After the war concluded the prisoners were shipped back to Europe and the students from the boys school returned to their classes as usual.
"Word of Honour"
Ehrenwort is a german meaning Word of Honour. This was a very important phrase within camp 30 for the following reason: if german prisoners gave their word that they would not try to escape they were permitted to leave the camp. They always returned so the prisoners of war were permitted to go swimming down at the lake in the summer or in the winter go cross country skiing. To my understanding this was extremely umcommon in P.O.W. camps and probably not what the Canadian soldiers had in mind when these men were taken prisoner but in camp 30 Bowmanville it worked, the guards were happy and generally so were the prisoners.
Escape Attempts
During the years that 2020 Lambs Rd. was the home to several hundres prisoners of war there were many escape attempts, none of which were successful.
The first escape attempt occurred November 25, 1941 as a prisoner attempted to crawl underneath the barbed wire. He was caught immediately and given 28 days detention.
On December 30, 1941 one prisoner attempted to escape by hiding in a laundry truck that was leaving the camp. He was consequently caught and held in Oshawa Jail until he was returned to the camp later that same day.
During a routine inspection of a P.O.W. enclosure a tin can with a map and escape tools was found on July 29th, 1943.
There were many escape attempts as the prisoners felt it was their duty to try to escape in spite of the above average conditions in camp (it is say they lived better than most families in Bowmanville and in Germany). Perhaps the most notorious escape attempts were the tunnels. Several tunnels were attempted, some were found more quickly then others but all were eventually found, stopped and closed off. The most famous tunnel was started in Victoria Hall (prisoners referred to it as Haus IV) in the northeast corner of the floor which was closest to the fence. The tunnel was 50cm by 50cm square, it had been wired for lighting and ventilation had been installed using tin cans. Supports were positioned approximately every 1 -2 meters, the wood for these supports were taken from the attics of other buildings within the camp. The dirt removed to create the tunnel was deposited in the attic of Victoria Hall via a trolley system and men passing a bucket up to the attic via a hole cut in ceiling. Finally in September, 1943 after months of work the attic of Victoria Hall collapsed due to the weight of the dirt. This alerted the guards and consequently they found the tunnel and collapsed it.
Inside Camp 30
Inside the camp there was daily head counts at 9am and 5pm and some housing searches throughout the week. The camp having been a boys school previously had many amenities that the other P.O.W. camps were without such as the indoor pool and athletic complex as well as soccer and football fields. The prisoners played many sports including Canadian football and hockey in the winter. The P.O.W.s also took it upon themselves to build a tennis court and a mini zoo. Prisoners also received regular mail from family and sent mail as well. They received new uniforms from Germany as many were captured in adequate uniforms for daily life. They also received their regular pay which allowed them to purchase items from their canteen. The canteen offered many items for sale such as cigarettes, cigars, tobacco, pipes, matches, writing tables, pens, pencils, ink, toothpaste, toothbrush, mouthwash, razor blades, combs, soap, hair brushes, scissors, shirts, socks, mitts, shoes, sausages, eggs, cheese bacon, milk and much more! Medical and dental services were available from German doctors in Victoria Hall (Haus IV). There was also an orchestra and a theatre group that put on various shakespeare plays.
Due to the prisoners working at the Darch Farm their meals were far above the prisoner of war camp standards. Breakfasts consisted of coffee, jam and butter. Lunch could include roast beef, gravy potatoes and carrots. Dinner was made up of macaroni, ham, soup, cheese bacon, and/or tea.
There were very few complaints from the prisoners about the conditions within the camp. At one point there was a slight problem of over crowding but that quickly rectified by shipping some prisoners to another camp. The most common complaint was about the bathroom facilities as they had been built for small boys (being that they builders were built originally as a delinquent boys school) but it is said the prisoners made due.
I watched this guy get hit crossing a road which probably explains his defensive posture. One defense I was not expecting but witnessed was it rapidly shaking its tail, creating a buzzing sound very similar to a rattlesnake.
Khajuraho, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is a famous tourist and archaeological site known for its sculptured temples dedicated to Shiva, Vishnu, Jain patriarchs, and others. Khajuraho was one of the capitals of the Chandela kings, who from the 9th to the 12th century CE developed a large realm, which at its height included almost all of what is now Madhya Pradesh state. Khajuraho extended over 21 sq. km and contained about 85 temples, built by multiple rulers mostly between 950 to 1050. In the 12th century the Chandelas, in a period of chaos and decline, abandoned Khajuraho and moved to hill forts elsewhere. Khajuraho puttered along until the 14th century (Ibn Batuta was impressed by its temples) but was afterwards largely forgotten and overtaken by jungles, which probably saved it from the desecration that Muslim conquerors sometimes inflicted on Hindu monuments. In 1838 a British army captain, TS Burt, employed by the Asiatic Society in Calcutta, came upon information that led him to the rediscovery of the complex of temples in the jungle in Khajuraho.
Of the 85 original temples—most constructed of sandstone—about 20 are still reasonably well preserved. Both internally and externally the temples are richly carved with excellent sculptures that are frequently sensual and often sexually explicit. The temples are divided into three complexes—the western is the largest and best known, containing the magnificent Shaivite temple Kandariya Mahadev, a 31m high agglomeration of porches and turrets culminating in a spire. Khajuraho's name derives from the prevalence of khajur, or date palms, in the area.
There are many theories explaining the real reason for incorporating erotic art with the temples. One of the most popular theories is that they were meant to provide education about earthly desires. During the medieval era, young boys were sent to hermitage and practice bramhacharya till reaching maturity. The sculptures were meant to educate them about grahasthahram.
Yet another theory states that they were meant to represent kama (desire) as the third purushartha (aim of life). The sculptures are also accredited to the rise of the Tantric cults during that time. However, several experts reject these theories.
However, the most credible explanations for the erotic sculptures at Khajuraho are as follows:
1. Sign of happiness, prosperity and auspiciousness: During the medieval era there was a common belief that having erotic sculptures were considered alankaras or decorative motifs, protective and auspicious. This hypothesis is based on the authoritative religious texts like the Shilpashastras and the Brihat Samhita. According to the Brihat Samhita, mithunas (couples), goblins, creepers and erotic sculptures were meant to be carved on the temple door to bring in good luck and as a sign of auspiciousness.
2. Mock the Ascetics: Yet another theory explaining the old erotic art at Khajuraho states that the coital couples represent ascetics as well as people from the royal class. It is also believed that the sculptures of couples participating in the orgies are scenes imagined by the artists. Also, it is also said that the artists used ascetics in sensuous and passionate moods as a way to mock the extreme Tantric sects that rose during that era.
3. Code Language: According to experts, the erotic figures were used as a code language to convey Tantric doctrines and non-communicable experiences. For e.g. A sculpture wherein a washerwoman clings to an ascetic may look erotic and sensuous for the layman. However, in the Tantric language, the washerwoman represents the Kundalini energy that has ascended up to the chakras i.e. the neck of the ascetic. Thus, the erotic sculptures have a deeper meaning related to the Tantric cult.
4. Conceal the Magico-Propitiory Yantra: According to the architectural text of the Shilpa Prakasha, every temple must have a Kamakala Yantra strategically placed to protect it from evil spirits and natural calamities. However, the Yantra, which is basically a set of lines drawn symmetrically, must not be visible to the lay man. Thus, a few erotic sculptures with the head down posture were made corresponding to the lines of the Yantra and superimposed on it.
5. Non-duality: It is possible that the erotic sculptures symbolically represent the union of two opposing forces or energies like, inhalation and exhalation, in a timeless state of non-duality.
The erotic art at Khajuraho is considered to be the pinnacle of love and passion. However, during the period between 900 – 1300 AD most Hindu, Jain and Buddhist temples across western and southern India comprised of erotic art.
However, at other temples, these sculptures were carved at the plinth level, below the eye level and thus did not get noticed. It is only at Khajuraho that these sculptures were so prominently displayed on the main wall of the temples
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Lettice is nursing a broken heart. Her beau, Selwyn Spencely, son of the Duke of Walmsford, has been sent to Durban for a year by his mother, the Duchess of Walmsford, Lady Zinnia in an effort to destroy their relationship which she wants to end so that she can marry Selwyn off to his cousin, Pamela Fox-Chavers. Lettice returned home to Glynes to lick her wounds, however it only served to make matters worse as she grew even more morose. It was from the most unlikely of candidates, her mother Lady Sadie, with whom Lettice has always had a fraught relationship, that Lettice received the best advice, which was to stop feeling sorry for herself and get on with her life and wait patiently for Selwyn’s eventual return. Since then, Lettice has been trying to follow her mother’s advice and has thrown herself into the merry dance of London’s social round of dinners, dances and balls. However, even she could only keep this up for so long, and on New Year’s Eve, her sister, Lally, suggested that she spend a few extra weeks resting and recuperating with her in Buckinghamshire before returning to London and trying to get on with her life. Lettice happily agreed, however her rest cure ended abruptly with a letter from her Aunt Egg in London, summoned Lettice back to the capital and into society in general. Through her social connections, Aunt Egg has contrived an invitation for Lettice and her married Embassy Club coterie friends Dickie and Margot Channon, to an amusing Friday to Monday long weekend party of Sir John and Lady Caxton, who are very well known amongst the smarter bohemian set of London society for their amusing weekend parties at their Scottish country estate and enjoyable literary evenings in their Belgravia townhouse. Lady Gladys is a successful authoress in her own right and writes under the nom de plume of Madeline St John, so they attract a mixture of witty writers and artists mostly.
Now we find ourselves in the cosy and cluttered, old fashioned Art and Crafts decorated drawing room of Gossington, the Scottish Baronial style English Art and Crafts castle near the hamlet of Kershopefoot in Cumberland belonging to Sir John and Lady Gladys, where Lettice, Margot and Dickie have joined their hosts along with a few stragglers who arrived on a later train to Carlisle who were chauffeured to the house from the railway station there.
Lady Gladys stands by one of the full length windows looking out at the countryside beyond. Her face crumples up as she stares at the roiling and dark clouds in the sky. She pats her finger waved grey hair anxiously, as though trying to protect it from being spoiled by the rain she perceives is coming, “Looks like the weather is on the turn, John.”
“What’s that, Gladys?” her husband pipes up, glancing over the top of his book from his Savonarola chair by the crackling fire.
“I said it’s starting to cloud over.” she replies in a slightly louder voice, turning to face him so he can hear her more clearly. “I do hope that it doesn’t rain on Pheobe and the other ramblers.”
“I’m sure they can all shelter in a barn somewhere.” he replies. “It will be a new and novel experience for some of them.”
Snorts and muffles giggles come from a few of the guests sitting about the room enjoying indoor pursuits.
Sir John looks over at the clusters of heads lowered together and chuckles good-naturedly as he remarks, “Don’t get so self-righteous you lot!” He closes his book. “I bet it would be a new and novel experience for most of you too!”
Lady Gladys wanders across the room, toying with the long string of pearls about her neck and takes a seat, just as Lettice appears at the door of the drawing room.
“Oh, do come in Lettice,” Lady Gladys says warmly from a corner of the Knole sofa* upholstered in William Morris’** ‘Strawberry Thief’ fabric. “Come and sit with me.” She softly pats the cushion next to her, the action emitting a small cloud of dust motes.
“Thank you Lady Caxton.” Lettice replies as she walks across the room, squeezing between the clusters of chairs and occasional tables, some occupied by the late arriving guests, including Dickie and Margot, playing a range of parlour games on offer from the Gossington games cupboard.
“Ah!” the hostess wags her finger admonishing at Lettice. “I might be older than your mother, my dear, but here, we are egalitarian. We are all on a first name basis. I am Gladys and Sir John is just, John. Hmmm?”
“Very well, thank you, Gladys.” Lettice replies awkwardly, a little startled by this revelation, as she sits on the opposite end of the sofa, closest to the fire.
“Gladys is an old Fabian*** from before you were born, Lettice.” Sir John adds with a kindly wink from his seat opposite her.
“Not so much of the old, thank you John!” Gladys remarks, pretending to be offended. “Remember, I’m younger than you.”
“That doesn’t say much when you compare yourself to all these youngsters!” He waves his hand about the room.
“That’s why I like young people,” Gladys smiles indulgently at Lettice, directing her comment to her rather than her husband. “They help keep me young with their talk of nightclubs, the latest shows and the like.”
“More like it gives you fodder for your next novel, Gladys.” He looks lovingly at his wife, a mischievous glint in his sparkling blue eyes and a cheeky smile playing across his lips. “Writing vicariously through others.”
“It pays to keep up to date with the latest trends, John. I don’t want to fall out of fashion.”
“I don’t think your novels will ever fall out of fashion, Lady… err, Gladys.” Lettice remarks magnanimously.
“You’re a flatterer, that’s for certain!” Lady Gladys chuckles. “You’ll get on. I shall graciously accept your compliment.” Her pale, wrinkled face stills for a moment as a far away look glazes over her eyes. “We none of us think we will fall out of fashion, but we do, in one way or another – especially as we get older. Take this room for example. Decorated in what was once the height of fashion. Would you decorate your home in this way, my dear Lettice?”
From her vantage point, Lettice gazes around the room. Looking at the William Morris ‘Strawberry Thief’ pattern on the sofa, woven carpet and the Morris ‘Poppies’ wallpaper, Lettice estimates the room, like most around the grey stone castle, were decorated in the late Nineteenth Century during the heyday of the Arts and Crafts Movement. A hotch-potch of furnishings that jostle comfortably for space suggests a period of prosperity driven acquisition over the ensuing years up until the Great War, yet each piece is of high quality and well made, implying her hosts’ dedication to the arts, as do the ornaments that cover surfaces around the room, all of which are beautiful and handmade. Old paintings of Scottish landscapes remind Lettice of Sir John’s proud heritage, whilst the large number of books tell her of Lady Caxton’s literary pursuits and success.
“Oh, I think it’s charming,” Lettice replies. “You obviously have an eye for fine workmanship and artistry.”
“But?” Lady Gladys picks up Lettice’s unspoken thought.
“But no, I wouldn’t decorate my home like this.”
“That’s the correct answer, Lettice.” Lady Gladys replies kindly. “And, if I were your age, I wouldn’t either. It’s fusty and old fashioned.”
“It is lovely though, and all my modern ideas would look out of place in a room like this. You need to have older things here, not what is fashionable and up-to-date. It would look out of place.”
“Tea, Lettice?” Gladys leans forward towards the low beautifully hand embroidered footstool before her and picks up an empty cup. “Or would you prefer coffee?”
“Oh, tea will be fine Lady Cax… err, I mean, Gladys.” She chuckles awkwardly at such familiarity with people she barely knows. “White and one sugar, please.”
“Good. I’ve never been one for coffee myself.” Lady Gladys pours tea from the silver pot into the cup over the sugar, and adds a slosh of milk, before she passes it to Lettice to stir. “I do hope you found your room to be satisfactory, Lettice.”
“It’s lovely. Thank you. I shall feel like Sleeping Beauty when I retire.”
“Hhmmm,” Gladys smiles understandingly. “Yes. I thought you’d like the décor in there.”
“The Art Nouveau wallpaper is lovely. It is William Morris, like in here, is it not?”
“Yes,” Lady Gladys remarks with a surprised lilt in her voice. “How clever of you to notice. It’s ‘Sweet Briar’, so your reference to Briar Rose is most apt, my dear.”
“My Aunt Eglantine has it in her bedroom in Chelsea. She loves William Morris too.”
“And you, Lettice? Do you like William Morris?” Lady Gladys asks.
“I like a mixture of old and new, Lad… Gladys. I think a well placed antique on a modern table adds elegance, and I think a William Morris cushion,” She pulls the cushion from behind her back and looks at it thoughtfully. “Could look splendid as an accent on a plain coloured settee.”
“How is Eglantine?” Sir John asks, changing the subject as he takes a sip of his own cup of tea.
“I didn’t know you were acquainted with my Aunt, Sir John, until my aunt told me of my invitation to this weekend.”
“Just John, my dear.” he corrects Lettice politely, causing her to blush. “Remember the old Fabian in the room.” He nods at his wife. “And yes, Gladys and I have similar artistic and literary pursuits to her, so we know Eglantyne quite well.”
“I have some of her pieces,” Lady Gladys remarks proudly and indicates firstly to two dainty pots of hand painted petunias on the mantlepiece, which are part of Eglantyne’s pre-war work, and then to a pedestal next to a very full bookcase, where one of Lettice’s aunt’s more modern pottery pieces sits. “She is a wonderful ceramicist and artist. She can create such beautiful sinuous lines in pottery. It really is remarkable.”
“She doesn’t do that so much now,” Lettice remarks.
“That’s a pity.” Lady Gladys replies a little sadly. “It’s a shame to waste such a gift.”
“Her arthritis slows her somewhat when it comes to ceramics, and she is seldom happy with the results. She’s following different pursuits these days.”
“She paints now, doesn’t she?” Sir Caxton asks.
“She does… John. She’s currently painting a piece for the Royal Academy.”
“Excellent! We shall look forward to seeing that, shan’t we Gladys?”
“Oh indeed, John. And of course, she has her embroidery.” Lady Gladys adds.
Lettice laughs softly. “I fear sometimes that if I sit still in her drawing room for long enough, one day she might embroider me.”
A thunderclap breaks outside. It’s noise echoes through the atmosphere inside, sending a collective shiver through the guests in the room.
“I told you, John. Pheobe and the others are sure to get rained upon now.” She glances around the high wing of the Knole sofa to the window. Looking back at Lettice, she picks up her own teacup and tops it up with tea from the pot before continuing, “Pheobe, our niece and ward, has taken all the other young guests for the weekend on a ramble about the estate to help everyone work up an appetite for dinner. I do hope they will be back soon, especially now that it’s going to pour.”
“I bet they all went to the pub in the village for a lark.” Dickie remarks from where he sits. “And they are quite cosy and warm in there. They’ll be back when they are good and ready.”
“You may be right, young Dickie!” Sir John chortles.
“I’m puzzled,” Lettice says, her face crumpling up in thought. “As to why you asked me here for the weekend.”
“Puzzled, my dear?” Lady Gladys asks.
“Yes. I must confess I was very surprised to receive your kind invitation – delighted, but surprised. I mean, we’ve never met as far as I’m aware. Is it because of your connection to my aunt?”
“Well, that does have a little to do with it, Lettice,” Sir John explains. “You are your aunt’s favourite niece…”
“She says that to all of us Si… err, John.”
“Well, be that as it may, she has spoken to us about you and your talents over many years, particularly since you have come of age. However, Gladys and I keep our own eye on the artistic scene in London, so your name has been mentioned to us a number of times on different occasions.”
“Really?” Lettice asks in astonishment.
“Oh yes,” adds Lady Gladys. “Surely you must know that you’re gaining quite a reputation now, for your stylish interior designs.”
“Especially after that article in Country Life, showing the work you did for Margot and Dickie,” Sir John nods in the direction of the couple, ensconced together on an Art Nouveau sofa, happily playing cards. “It looked wonderful! So fresh and elegant with all those clean lines that are so fashionable now.”
“We did so want to finally meet you, dear Lettice.” Lady Gladys adds.
“Well,” Lettice blushes. “I’m very flattered, and honoured to be invited to Gossington. Your weekend parties are famous for being filled with fun and enjoyment.”
“Then I hope we shall not disappoint, dear Lettice.” Sir John beams.
“I’m sure with the return of the others, you won’t be starved for wit and aristocratic intelligentsia.” Lady Gladys adds. “Your aunt tells us that you can be quite witty yourself, and you obviously have intelligence amongst other attributes.”
Lettice notices a look exchanged between her two hosts but can’t read what it means.
“Ahem, Lettice,” Sir John clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m afraid that Gladys and I have a confession to make.”
“A confession?”
“Yes,” Lady Gladys explains. “I’m afraid that we’ve invited you here with an ulterior motive, my dear.”
“Oh?”
“Not that we aren’t delighted to have you here for your charm, beauty and obvious intelligence.” Sir John assures her with hands raised in defence.
“Yes.” Lady Gladys soothes in agreement with her husband. “As I said before, we’ve heard such great things about your interior designs, so you are under no obligation to agree to our request.”
Lettice suddenly looks about the room again, her eyes darting anxiously from surface to cluttered surface as she makes a calculated assumption. Her eyes grow wide and her cheeks pale. “You’re your request, La… Gladys?”
“Gladys my dear, you’ll scare the poor girl! She’ll think we want her to redecorate this old pile of stones from the cellar to the battlements.”
“Oh no!” Lady Gladys assures Lettice. “We don’t want you to redecorate our home! No, I have far too many treasures here to ever think of parting with. Good heavens no!”
“Then what?” Lettice asks cautiously.
“Well, it’s Pheobe.” Lady Gladys explains. “She’s moving to London. Now that she’s of age, she has decided to pursue a career in garden design, and she’s been accepted to a school in Regent’s Park associated to the Royal Academy, so she’ll be in London more often than she has been.”
Lettice looks on, puzzled and unsure as to how she can be of service to her hosts’ ward. “You want me to decorate her rooms in your London townhouse?”
“Oh no my dear!” Sir John defends. “Like here, our London house is very much an Arts and Crafts relic.”
“No. Pheobe’s father, my youngest brother Reginald, was part of the civil service in India before the war.” Lady Gladys continues. “He and Pheobe’s mother, Marjorie, died of cholera out there.”
“Oh, I am sorry.” Lettice says sadly, putting her hand to her chest.
“Thank you my dear. My brother bought a pied-à-terre**** in Bloomsbury for when they were in London.”
“Gladys actually lived in it when she worked as my secretary before she married me.” Sir John adds.
“Yes.” Lady Gladys acknowledges. “Anyway, when Reginald died, he bequeathed his pied-à-terre to his only surviving child, Pheobe. It was to be held in trust for her by us until she came of age. Now she is of age, we’re giving her the flat to live in. It will be more efficient, as when we go to London, we take staff from here, and when we aren’t in London, there is only a caretaker looking after the house. Pheobe can manage the flat without the need for any live-in staff, and she can finally have some independence from us, which I suspect she craves.”
“The flat hasn’t been redecorated since Reginal and Marjorie lived there.” Sir John adds.
“It’s so old fashioned.” Lady Gladys agrees. “It isn’t good for Pheobe to live in a flat surrounded by the ghosts of parents she hardly even knew. You’ll be sitting next to her at dinner tonight, and dear Nettie, who has some considerable sway with Pheobe. We’ve suggested that Pheobe talk to you herself. We’ll obviously foot any bills if she likes your ideas, which we’re quite sure she will. Will you consider it, my dear Lettice? It would be such a great favour to us, and to Pheobe of course.”
“Well, I’ll certainly consider it, Gladys.” Lettice replies.
“Splendid! Splendid!” Lady Gladys claps her hands in delight. “I knew you’d be open to the idea!”
*The original Knole Settee (also known as the Knole Sofa) is a couch chair that was made in the 17th century, probably around 1640. It is housed at Knole in Kent, a house owned by the Sackville-West family since 1605 but now in the care of the National Trust. It was originally used not as a comfortable sofa but as a formal throne-like seat on which an aristocrat or monarch would have sat to receive visitors. It was wide enough that a monarch and consort could be seated side by side. As of 2021, it is kept at Knole House in a transparent case.
**William Morris (24th of March 1834 – 3rd of October 1896) was a British textile designer, poet, artist, writer, and socialist activist associated with the British Arts and Crafts movement. He was a major contributor to the revival of traditional British textile arts and methods of production. His literary contributions helped to establish the modern fantasy genre, while he helped win acceptance of socialism in fin de siècle Great Britain. In 1861, Morris founded the Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co. decorative arts firm with Burne-Jones, Rossetti, Webb, and others, which became highly fashionable and much in demand. The firm profoundly influenced interior decoration throughout the Victorian period, with Morris designing tapestries, wallpaper, fabrics, furniture, and stained glass windows. In 1875, he assumed total control of the company, which was renamed Morris & Co.
***The Fabian Society is a British socialist organisation whose purpose is to advance the principles of social democracy and democratic socialism via gradualist and reformist effort in democracies, rather than by revolutionary overthrow. The Fabian Society was also historically related to radicalism, a left-wing liberal tradition.
****A pied-à-terre is a small flat, house, or room kept for occasional use.
This very cluttered and overstuffed room may appear like something out of a historical stately country house, but it is in fact part of my 1:12 miniatures collection and includes items from my childhood, as well as those I have collected as an adult.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The Knole Sofa covered in William Morris’ ‘Strawberry Thief’ pattern comes from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom. The cushions on it, and on the Savonarola chair opposite also feature the Morris ‘Strawberry Thief’ pattern in 1:12 size, and came from an American seller on E-Bay. The Savonarola chairs are made by high-end miniature furniture manufacturer JBM Miniatures.
The large embroidered footstool in front of the fireplace was made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq, but what is particularly special about it is that it has been covered in antique English floral micro petite point by V.H. Miniatures in the United Kingdom, which makes this a one-of-a-kind piece. The artisan who made this says that as one of her hobbies, she enjoys visiting old National Trust Houses in the hope of getting some inspiration to help her create new and exciting miniatures. She saw some beautiful petit point chairs a few years ago in one of the big houses in Derbyshire and then found exquisitely detailed petit point that was fine enough for 1:12 scale projects.
The small round footstool in front of Sir John’s Savonarola chair has been hand embroidered as well, and was acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the united Kingdom.
The silver tea and coffee set on the large embroidered footstool, consisting of milk jug, sugar bowl coffee pot and teapot come from Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The silver tray upon which they stand also comes from Warwick Miniatures. The four dainty floral teacups with gilt edging scattered about the room are part of a larger tea set that I acquired from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.
The books on the table to the left of the photograph between the two Savonarola chairs are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. They are novels written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but so little of his real artistry is seen because the books that he specialised in making are usually closed, sitting on shelves or closed on desks and table surfaces. These books are amongst the rarer exceptions that have been designed not to be opened. Nevertheless, the covers are copies of real Victorian bindings. What might amaze you even more is that all Ken Blythe’s books and magazines are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago, as well as through his estate via his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.
The wonderfully detailed red and white chess set in the foreground of the photograph came from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom. The set came in its own hand crafted compartmented wooden box with a working sliding lid which can be seen just in front of the Pig-a-Back and Ludo game boxes. The chess game is set up correctly with a match in progress. I wonder who will win? The table on which the chess game is being played comes from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom, whilst the two red velvet seated chairs drawn up to it, I acquired from an auction some years ago. The pieces date from the 1970s and are very well made.
The box of Ludo and Pig-a-Back are both 1:12 artisan pieces, produced authentically to scale with great attention to detail by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire.
Sir John and Lady Gladys’ family photos on the mantlepiece are all real photos, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The frames are from various suppliers, but all are metal. Only one, the larger square frame at the back, leaning against the tall blue vase on the left-hand side of the mantle is sterling silver. I t was made in Birmingham in 1908 and is hallmarked on the back of the frame. It has a red leather backing.
The two small vases of primroses on the mantle are delicate 1:12 artisan porcelain miniature ornaments made and painted by hand by ceramicist Ann Dalton.
The two dark blue double handled gilt vases with floral banding at either end of the mantlepiece, I have had since I was a child. I was given them as a birthday gift when I was nine.
The two tall blue glazed jugs featuring irises at either end of the fireplace came from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom, as did the brown glazed jug on the tall pedestal in the corner of the room next to the bookcase.
The grey marble French barrel clock on the mantlepiece is a 1:12 artisan miniature made by Hall’s Miniature Clocks, supplied through Doreen Jeffries Small Wonders Miniatures in England.
The Georgian style fireplace with its heavy wooden surround and deep mantle in the background was made by Town Hall Miniatures supplied through Melody Jane’s Dolls’ House Suppliers in the United Kingdom.
The glass fronted bookcase is a replica of a bookcase belonging to Abraham Lincoln and is part of the Lincoln Collection, made and distributed in America.
Lady Gladys’ book collection inside the glass fronted bookcase are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Ken Blythe was famous in miniature collectors’ circles mostly for the miniature books that he made: all being authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection. Each book is a 1:12 replica of a life sized volume with an authentic cover. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make these miniature artisan pieces. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago and through his estate courtesy of the generosity of his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.
The paintings hanging on the walls are all 1:12 artisan pieces made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States. The wallpaper is William Morris’ ‘Poppies’ pattern, featuring stylised Art Nouveau poppies. William Morris papers and fabrics were popular in the late Victorian and early Edwardian period before the Great War.
The miniature Arts and Crafts rug on the floor is made by hand by Mackay and Gerrish in Sydney.
"Reveal to me the mysteries
Can you tell me what it means?
Explain these motions and metaphors
Unlock these secrets in me
Describe the vision, the meaning is missing
Won't anybody listen?
Define the riddles of my mind
Nothing is really what it seems "
(POD - Sleeping Awake)
its mornings like this that explain why my alarm is set for 3.15 every morning(rain or shine) and then bike 3 miles to the beach before biking back getting changed then go to work...but the downside is I go to bed before the kids do."YOU GET OUT WHAT YOU PUT IN"
One of the most popular tourist destinations in Iceland is the geothermal area in Haukadalur valley, where we sped early in the morning to get in before the big coaches. Of course we didn't see the great geyser erupt, as it happens only a few times a decade now, but it was a beautiful sunny day and we did very much enjoy Strokkur's regular sapphire-blue spurts and the generally otherworldly, stinky, muggy, misty atmosphere of the place.
The geothermal field in Haukadalur lies on the outskirts of the neovolcanic zone from which it is drifting, and it is therefore gradually becoming a low-temperature field. Magma may have forced its way out of the neovolcanic zone along one or more fissures, forming intrusions, which would explain the sustained geothermal activity. There's no evidence of Holocene volcanism in this area and the bedrock appears to have been formed subglacially towards the end of the glacial period. The geothermal field is believed to have a total surface area of approximately three square kilometres. Most of the springs lie along a 100-metre-wide strip of land running in the same direction as the tectonic lines, from south to southwest. The strip is 500 metres long and ends near a church where the seat of the lords of Haukadalur was once located. A 20-to-150-centimetre-thick layer of siliceous sinter can be found, sometimes covered by earth. The Hvitamelur hill was once a spouting spring, but it is now absolutely dry: the rims of the ancient basin can be seen and the sinter holds quite a few plant fossils. This indicates that the geothermal field has moved and its heart is now two kilometres to the south of the Haukadalur seat. Two little springs--Marteinslaug and Gufubadshver--were left behind. The northernmost springs, such as Geysir itself, are believed to be the oldest. There are around thirty smaller geysers and hot pools in the area, about which one can read in fascinating detail on the Extreme Iceland website.
There are only about a thousand geysers worldwide, most found in Yellowstone National Park; they're rare because they need the simultaneous presence of hot stone, plenty of groundwater, a reservoir for water under the surface of the ground, and fissures to deliver water to the surface. First, cooler groundwater near the surface trickles down through the earth to a heat source like hot magma. When the water reaches the boiling point, however, it can't convert into steam because it's deep underground and confined by the weight of cooler water above. This superheated water--hot enough to become steam but unable to expand--eventually gets to a point where it cannot be contained any longer. The temperature gets high enough, the confining pressure is somehow reduced, the surface tension of water is reduced with soap, etc., and the water explodes into steam in an enormous expansion of volume.
The most famous geyser in the world is of course Geysir, from which we got the word. Based on geological analysis, Geysir has been active for approximately 10,000 years and is the first geyser mentioned in historical documents: the oldest accounts of hot springs at Haukadalur date back to 1294, when earthquakes created several new hot springs. Documents from 1630 describe the geysers erupting so violently that the valley around them trembled. The place name "Geysir" was first used in written sources in the 18th century. A 20-centimetre-thick layer of earth covering an older stratum of siliceous sinter passing under Geysir’s sinter indicates that geothermal activity once subsided long enough for vegetation to flourish until some event, possibly an earthquake, caused a fracture from which water could emerge again. The water's temperature 20 metres down Geysir’s feeder channel is about 125 ºC and it rises from a depth of 1-2 kilometres. Geysir discharges 1.5 litres per second and the entire area discharges 14 litres per second.
Spouting activity is generally heightened by earthquakes and then subsides for a while. In 1845, Geysir's eruption reached a height of 170 metres. The next year, (when Geysir erupted to 43-54 metres), German chemist Robert Bunsen (yes, that Bunsen) went on a research expedition while at University of Marburg and was able to discover and recreate with a model the mechanism of geyser activity. In 1871, William Morris, describing a trip with Eiríkr Magnússon, wrote in his diary that Geysir was spouting once every five or six days. After a period of near-dormancy, an earthquake on September 10, 1896, set off a few years of multiple daily eruptions lasting up to an hour and rising up to 60 metres. In 1910, it was active every 30 minutes; five years later the time between the eruptions was as much as six hours, and in 1916, the eruptions all but ceased.
In 1935, a 50-centimetre-deep channel was dug through the silica rim around the northern edge of the geyser vent to lower the water table and increase activity, and this was periodically cleared as it got clogged with silica. In 1981, it was scraped clean and enlarged to a depth of 70 centimetres and a width of 25 centimetres: Geysir's water level dropped and the spring spouted, sometimes up to 40-50 metres, almost every day until the furrow was covered up and dammed in 1983 (in such a way that it could be reopened). Geysir`s caprice is infamous: in the mid-21st century, a group of people waited eight hours after soap was administered, and Geysir produced one of its most spectacular eruptions as soon as they gave up and moved out of sight. A few weeks later, the soap was put in before the planned arrival of a group of congress delegates who were determined to wait for days if needed; Geysir erupted minutes before they arrived. The practice of artificially inducing eruptions on special occasions by throwing soap into the geyser stopped in the 1990s because of environmental concerns, though authorized government geologists could force an eruption on the Icelandic National Day holiday. An earthquake in 2000 caused on eruption of 122 meters for two days, making it one of the highest geysers in history (Waimangu Geyser in New Zealand erupted up to 460 metres high before it became dormant around 1900).
Nearby Strokkur (Icelandic for "churn") is a fountain geyser erupting much more frequently: once every 6-10 minutes. Its usual height is 15-20 metres, although it can sometimes erupt up to 40 metres high. Strokkur was first mentioned in 1789, after an earthquake helped unblock the conduit of the geyser, and for a year it was extremely powerful and ejected water, gas, and steam with force rivalling even Geysir. Its activity fluctuated throughout the 19th century; in 1815 its height was estimated to have been as much as 60 metres but by 1830 people were tossing in stones and turf to get it to spout and even then it was never more than 20 metres and a rusty red in colour. An earthquake in 1896 blocked the conduit, it rallied in 1907, and it had expired again by 1920. In 1963, upon the advice of the Geysir Committee, locals cleaned out the blocked conduit through the bottom of the basin, drilling a 40-metre hole, and ever since the geyser has been one of the most frequent and reliable natural geysers in the world. Discharge from the spring, or rather from the borehole, is currently 2.5 litres per second.
Until 1894, the geothermal area was owned by a local farmer, who then sold it to James Craig (later Lord Craigavon), a whiskey distiller from Ulster and future Prime Minister of Northern Ireland. Craig initially erected large fences around the site and charged an entrance fee, but he gave the whole area away to his friend E. Craig, who dropped the entrance fees. Craig's nephew Hugh Rogers eventually inherited the site and in 1935 sold it to film director Sigurður Jónasson, who donated it to the Icelandic people.
This image is part of explaining how f stops work going from 1.4 to f16. You will get a feel for how the image is effected.
Allow me to explain what happened. I was sitting on the sofa playing with my zoom lens and began focusing on a painting I had of Jesus (the one on the left). When I began looking at the photos I took I noticed that four of the photos I took came out different. The photo on the right is what came out. If you look closely his eyes are blue and the shape of his eyes are more human and shaped different. He has more of a flesh color in his face rather than the brown tones in the original painting. I took the original painting and the photo that came out to a photography store and had the owner keep both of them for a few days. He said the eyes are definitely blue and he could see the retna. He told me that he is not Christian and he's very skeptical -but he also said something happened and that the eyes are very human and not of the original painting.
I've kept this private for a long time and don't ask me why I'm sharing it now... I'm not trying to convert anyone - just thought I would share this.
I was waiting for the bus, when I saw a young guy approaching. I was quite in my own thoughts, lighting a cigaret when he ask me, if I had been waiting long for the bus?
I answered him in my very own male voice, that I had been waiting QUITE a while, so that it should soon be coming... Perhaps I should explain that I never ”twist” my vocal cords to sound female, but just as well, I try to refrain from growling and reaching the low tones and notes of normal speech. But this time I half forgot, or half didn't really care (even I don't know which)? Very unlike me really! Anyway, he did seem sligthly chocked, but I was puzzled to find him keeping the conversation going!? ”Is it time for the night busses already?” He said and I answered, though in my more usual ”Lisa way” now. He even sad down close to me in the bus and we talked on the ride towards the city of this and that, going out, nightbusses and so forth. At a time he said ”... Im just going to hang out with some friends, I seldom really go out as there is usually problems with ID... ”. I was confused.. ”But... problems with ID... but how so..?” .”How old do you think I am?” he asked, I guessed ”21... perhaps 23” I said and was QUITE surprised when he said he was only 16 years old. I was VERY surprised I must admit, so much it obviously showed, which made him proud he even said :o) ”Just wait!!” I smiled in return, ”soon enough, you will wish to be guessed YOUNGER than you are! :o)”
How insight full of you :o) how DO you do it? Read my mind this way, that is? But yes, of cause I could not help my self, asking him to guess my age?...though... the expression on his face made me wish I my self had brought an ID. I seriously doubt he belived me. Anyway, when the time came for him to get of the bus, he gallantly presenting me his hand, wishing me a good evening. He was.. EXTREMELY sweet, kind and empathic. Just a kid really, but with more wisdom than could be added together, from 3 average society adults.
I am so used to idiots, that these... human beacons of kindness, wisdom and light, never cease to amaze me, when they leisurely wander across my path in life. - I wonder.. if they in fact feel the same way as I do, about me I mean, those human beacons? Perhaps they do, in fact! Quite possibly, really!
A good start on the evening though, especially as the ”dress up” part was a little stressed with time. (I HATE that)
I was going to ”Queer party” at Warehouse 9. An event where one is sure to meet quite interesting people and I was not disapointed.
These 2 ”guys” (on the pictures)...I call them ”guys” as the one said -”To day I am Benjamin” -, was the incarnation of, femininity, in every little movement and gesture. The guy on the right, made a casual dance so nymph like, while just talking on the phone totally unaware, that I was stunned in admiration. Benjamin (the one on the left) at a time, took off his T-shirt, presenting a stomach and waist so slim and feminin, even I can not come close. He was wearing a black bra and it looked only, feminine!!! He even talked with a voice so velvet smooth, one thought only of one thing the second he opened his mouth and started pronunciation words :oP WOW!
These 2 ”guys” I have not seen before in Denmark. Obviously they are quite young and again I am filled with hope for the future, as they (much as I) had an invisible sign to every little thought and movement they made that said, ”This is me, try me, see if I give a fuck what you think!”
Then... a woman (she said she was a lesbian) started hitting on me.. I hate it when they do that.. Especially when I clearly sense, that in male form they wouldn't spare me a word or a second glance. But I did also meet a most charming and intelligent young guy, they DO exist, but again very very young was he, perhaps a little too.... :o)
All in all a good evening and I got to walk rather long through the city, in my super white ”walkability” 10 (though only 4 inch) leather stiletto heels. LOVE that, just walking down the street... Ok I admit it, you don't have to look at me that way.. I LOOOOVE it, when the cars honked their horn passing by, in salute to my feminin contribution to the streetview, all five times in fact ;o)
To be honest, it usually flatters me in such a degree I smile involuntarily, in bliss and thanks.. Though I try my best not to look in the direction of the cars, as it happenes I am quite familiar with the male system of comunication and content.
One can smile, blush and look down. But smiling facing a person, is a tiny, small invitation.
Transvestit København Danmark
August 2014 marks the 40th anniversary of the construction of the CN Tower’s “working platform”.
For those who saw and experienced the construction of the tower, this working platform was one of the iconic fixtures of the tower from August 1974 through to August 1975 when it was finally dismantled and lowered to the ground. However, with it being covered over with safety nets and without any “public media relations” to explain what was going on with the tower’s construction, most Torontonians were perplexed or knowingly confused about what this “working platform” was used for. For myself, I always felt that it hid a portion of the tower which was actively under construction and would one day emerge from its cocoon to form a key aspect of the SkyPod. All of this, of course, was incorrect, and hence why this collage and explanation was created.
The “working platform” (as we will generally call it) had multiple purposes to the engineers of the CN Tower:
1) First and foremost, it would be used as a cradle to hold the 12 steel brackets which were to be hoisted from the ground level up to the 1120ft level of the tower.
2) Second, it contained the concrete wooden forms which encased the 12 steel brackets. The forms were mainly built on the ground and hoisted up to the 1120ft level along with the 12 steel brackets.
3) Third, once the temporary wooden floor of the working platform was completed in September 1974, it would be used as a base to pour the concrete floor of the outdoor observation level.
4) And fourth, after the concrete for the floor and brackets were poured, the working platform would be lowered 50ft to aid as a true “working platform” for construction people to access and work on the underside of the outdoor observation level (the “communication” levels 1 and 2, where the inflated, circular white radome can presently be seem).
As shown in a prior construction collage, the 12 brackets were raised from the ground level up to the 1120ft level between August 6 and 11 1974. The brackets were then connected to the tower, and leveled, using “dvidags” between August 17 and 30.
Thereafter, during August, the sections were connected together by the steelworkers via trusses (as seen in the upper left image of this collage). Long wood joists, then plywood, was laid down across the trusses to form the floor of the working platform.
Concrete was then poured into the wooden forms, and around the 12 huge steel beams, within and under the working platform (hidden behind the safety nets) to form the 12 triangle brackets seen today from below the SkyPod. Additional wooden forms were also installed to allow the creation of the walls of the poured-concrete “service tunnel” of level 1, ending on September 27. As a small historical note, the one & only person to die on the job was John Austin who was killed by a flying piece of plywood on the ground on October 2 during an unusually windy night.
The concrete floor of the outdoor observation level was poured in pie-shaped wedges throughout October 1974, using the working platform as the horizontal forms for the concrete pours. This can be seen in the lower-left image of the collage.
As an aspect of the tower’s construction that may have been overlooked by most or all Torontonians, the working platform was dislodged from its poured concrete (after a week of hitting the forms with sledge hammers!) and lowered 50ft where it remained until August 1975 (as shown in the lower right image of the collage). This important phase of the tower’s construction was not well documented in the media nor newspapers of the day so it was easily overlooked in the history books. The lowering occurred between Nov 2 and 8 1974. The platform was first lowered 20ft where it was used to pour the floor of level 1 then lowered another 30ft to clear the brackets (which were 45ft vertical).
The lower right image of the collage is an excellent photo of all of the work explained above. In the lower portion of the image, the “working platform” was all temporary and would be dismantled in 1975. The upper portion of the image remains as part of the SkyPod today. The floor is where the outdoor observation level is today. Under the floor are levels 1 and 2 where the communication dishes are presently shrouded in a white circular radome. The 12 concrete brackets were created by the wooden forms which remained within the working platform.
Once this critical and important phase of the tower was completed in November 1974, the “real work” could begin on erecting the steel framework of the SkyPod by CANRON.
In a previous post, I explained why a “blood moon” eclipse is tinted red… this image of a sunrise might explain it a little better. This was taken at the East Fork Overlook at milepost 418.3 along the Blue Ridge Parkway. On the tripod, the camera was at an elevation of nearly exactly 5,000 feet… that makes the horizon where the Sun popped up roughly 85 miles away from the lens. This was shot fullframe with a 400 mm lens, so the distance is compressed, but it shows the effect of denser atmosphere concerning the penetration of sunlight.
Officially, according to the European Space Agency, Earth’s atmosphere extends to 60 miles straight overhead. The atmosphere consists of gasses, mostly nitrogen and oxygen, water vapor, and dust. On a clear day, sunlight when the Sun is at zenith is not merely white but scattered throughout the color spectrum. The reason a leaf on a tree is green is because that leaf absorbs all wavelengths of light except green, which is reflected. The sky is blue not because it’s reflecting blue, but rather that it absorbs only blue light and is transparent… of all the colors, blue has the shortest wavelength of visible light. All the longer wavelengths just shoot right through.
Looking directly to the horizon as in this image, the depth of the atmosphere is nearly 145 miles… more atmosphere absorbs more light, yet the longer wavelength of red light easily affects the visible light of this sunrise. The red band on the Sun is due to a layer of vapor in the distance which scatters just about all visible light but red. Red pouring off that Sun sitting on the distant ridge looks quite like a beacon… it’s bright enough that the fog between mountaintops is reflecting it a bit. Other than evident vapor in the air to the east, there was no cloud cover in that direction on this morning. There’s a steep cliff to my back as I shot this, so I couldn’t tell about cloud coverage in that direction… but if there were clouds in that direction, they would have reflected the deep red light apparent here, and perhaps even more as they would be even further from the horizon. I hope this makes sense.
Minolta X-500 with Minolta MD 3.5/28
(Minolta X-570 in USA)
The same flea market, another day, another camera bag. The seller immediately offered it for 5 €, a look into it explained why: one lens in two parts, another one with shattered front element, I had my very doubts whether this X-500 was in working order. But then I found this nice 3.5/28 in an acceptable condition, and since I have a weakness for those slow wide angle lenses I eventually purchased that bag.
After (a lot of) cleaning and testing it turned out, that the camera was fully working. The X-500 is ranged between the simple X-300 and the top model X-700 and meanwhile it is no insider tip any more that it is the preferred model of this series for many photographers. It has more features than the X-300 (DOF-preview, TTL-flash, interchangeable back, viewer indication of f-stop) and some small advantages over the X-700, like a better flash management and the fact, that in manual mode the set shutter speed is indicated in the viewfinder in addition to the metered one. And it seems, that most users don't miss the programmed AE mode of the X-700 at all.
It was introduced in April 1983, and in my opinion, it is one of the best amateur cameras of its time and still worth a recommendation today. It fits my hand very well and its not that miniaturized like a Pentax Super A or Yashica FX-D. Afaik, all three Minolta X-cameras were offered until 1999. BTW, I like the writing of my German instruction manual, with sentences like "man nimmt die LED-Anzeigen nur als ungefähren Anhaltspunkt bzw. beachtet sie einfach nicht" which roughly means "take the LEDs as approximate clue or just ignore them". Imagine that in a Nikon manual. Interesting to know, how faithful the translation is from the Japanese origin.
My idea about those slow wide angle lenses is, that the image quality might be not perfect, but very homogeneous over the whole frame, and meanwhile I have a couple of those. There is a nice site about Minolta lenses and its author supports my thoughts, he would prefer the 3.5/28 over the 2.8/28.
lensqaworks.com/2018/01/14/minolta-md-28mm-3-5/
The lens here is the third MD version (MDIII) with a lockable f/22. Fortunately its former owner protected the front lens element with a skylight filter, so it doesn't look that battered like the rest. Also nice is, that the snap-on lens hood of my Minolta 4/35-70 AF seems to fit perfectly, that's continuity. With some luck you can get that lens on *bay for only 15 €.
Single, male, and Indian? It’s almost a disease
The guard outside the Gordon House Hotel in Colaba hated my face. I don’t think he’d even seen it, though. The way most of us casually blank out eyes of a beggar knocking on our tinted car windows, this guard had first looked away, then scowled, then mumbled something for a bit—still ignoring the four of us entirely, given that we were even unworthy of his inattention. And then he finally muttered ‘nahin’, or something to the effect.
We were all men, single (so, obviously molesters and rapists), standing outside the main gate of his posh discotheque, dressed in our Saturday night best. It appeared we could afford his hospitality, but he didn’t seem interested. Dogs and stags weren’t allowed, but then, suddenly, we (the dogs) were.
Galloping mindlessly across Mumbai’s backpacking district, we had left behind our only legitimate passports to status and nightlife—the four women friends with us. They caught up with us eventually and hence the guard welcomed us in. I don’t think he said sorry. He needn’t have. I didn’t blame him. Egos are too trivial to get in the way of a precious evening.
However, the gent outside Tito’s, with eight people inside on a Monday night, in the dead of the monsoon season, turned out to be a whole lot ruder. I heard him whisper under his breath some terrible things about the anatomy of our mothers and sisters. Not the sorts to pick a brawl still, we endured the humiliation, gently explained that we, in fact, did have women friends at the bar and then quietly left. This is common sufferance in Delhi. But we were in Goa, for God’s sake.
Being a man, with other men, in India’s semi-urban nocturnal jungle is to remain a gross, sometimes disgraced social outcaste, experiencing a strange tropical ailment—single-itis, for lack of a better name. These untouchables of nightlife don’t deserve their dance, with their drink, even if they could pay twice for the same simple pleasures.
You know something’s warped when watering holes that serve loud hard retro rock for music—still no one’s idea of a romantic date, by the way — remain officially open to couples only. Save if you are a regular. So they let me into Mumbai’s good old Ghetto the other night. I heaved a sigh of relief. We were five men, one woman. You can’t form political coalitions with right permutations each time you go out. The said ratio didn’t work at the next lounge, like it won’t at most clubs. Tough luck, I guess. And, no, there isn’t such a thing as ‘gay couples’. So, smart try.
It’s the sort of sexual discrimination few will take seriously and fewer still will care about. No one I know will fight against it. Suspicions are hard to erase. Some terrorists give all men a bad name. This is true for the average, Indian non-molester man, who makes for the vast majority. He stopped hitting on Indian women at some point. She instantly assumed him to be sleazy anyway. She had probably liked looking at him. He had seemed okay. He had enjoyed giving her the attention. She had thought that was fine as well. Their eyes had just met at the bar. But I know what they were both suffering from.
The Indian girl is hit by the silly ‘slut complex’. She won’t make the semblance of a first move—which should truly be her right—for fear of being judged as the loose one. The Indian guy is similarly down with the ‘creep syndrome’. He can’t be seen as one of those, you know, “one of those”. He has a reputation to protect.
Given such poor practice with making conversations with the unknown of the opposite gender, his skills get considerably worse with time. When he does try his luck now, once in a while, the possible openers get odder still: “You smell really nice . . .” Eww. She looks away. He goes back to his drink.
The times you must hang out with other men, just men, is when you’re at a quasi-gay joint celebrating old boys’ reunion of a frustrated boarding school. There are mostly men around at party places, which allow men to be by themselves. The topic of conversation is the woman, still.
Species single, male, and Indian, could consider themselves getting officially quarantined. It would help their cause. Female companionship is a mirage. Male company gets boring. Cloaking this lack of opportunity into a moral virtue, most prefer to get married instead. Their parents help them hook up, finally. Someone should. It’s hard to hold out beyond the late twenties. Arranged marriage isn’t always a matter of social conservatism or personal choice. It is often an urban necessity. Family feels proud. Segregation suits the status quo. Society approves. As does the petty politician, whether he’s the sicko who hassles lovers at public parks, or the old man in the gram panchayat. Unmarried love is fatal to his constituency. Inter-religious or inter-caste family can negate his existence. The conforming institution, the saviour, lives on.
Sooner or later, being single gets even tougher when everyone else around is already married. And there, those platonic female passports to an acceptable nightlife are gone as well. It may be fair to suggest that you can be happily single, in much the same way as you can be happily married . . . both being empirically impossible. To me the occasional woes of single men, however, seem diametrically opposite to those of the single women I meet. Except when they discuss the opposite sex, which is when they talk the same language.
Both on separate tables insist that a man or woman who is straight, smart, attractive, intelligent, interesting, funny, and, yet, available is an extinct specimen fit to hang at museums. Maybe because the two tables have never merged with each other’s. They’ve never really met. After school and college, where will they? At work? That’s where many do, it appears—unless you’re the supposedly shy sort, who only slimily stares at objects of desire, over the cubicle, under the staircase, when not stalking on Facebook.
New to sharing workspace with women, the traditional Indian man can barely get himself to open his hesitant mouth before a frothy female form. What comes out, when he does part his lips, bears promise of a sexual harassment case. He’s better off tongue-tied, quietly fantasizing. Dishonesty in sexual expression is probably better for the civilised world.
The less shady ones—fat, fugly, tall, talkative, short, sloppy—get to demonstrate their actual worth at work. This is a level playing eld. Women get attracted to the relatively
smart. The guy has something to prove. Bosses should be glad. Late hours aren’t a problem. Attendance goes up. Company’s productivity rises.
Sure, an office intern can shake up the White House and shock America. The gorgeous dimwit secretary can make the stern corporate CEO dance on his knees. Attraction demands no prior appointment. This may be unfair on the nerdy, pimply man who must work harder to command the same attention from his male superiors. But nature tends to balance this out in the long run.
That rookie biz-school grad, when he turns bald and old and if he is on top of his boardroom game, will be considered sexually attractive still. This isn’t necessarily true for the dumb hot intern in his office twenty years later. While he’s younger, freer, funnier, he stands a fair chance as well. Call centres and the movie industry merely get a bad name. All Indian offices with reasonable sex ratios, being 1:10, if you peer harder I reckon, will look like rocking dating sites, spiced up with secret romances, rebounds, heartburns, and heartbreaks. Pay closer attention to the HR department.
Mixing hormones with business may be a terrible idea, I know, but what to do? Where else to go? At a house party full of drunks? Where the inevitable cock-blocking and penis- fencing match is about to begin between twenty single men over the only woman who decided to stay back until late? Maybe. Or maybe not.
At a discotheque? Yes. That would be an ideal place for the lonely soul, seeking a happy ending to a day—a night of casual, naughty nirvana. It’s a large, dimly lit psychedelic dome singularly structured around eyeing men and women, since there’s precious little they can see of each other, through their beer goggles, under a shiny disco-ball. Loud music takes away the awkward discomforts of acquaintanceship. Burden of conversation safely lies in the lyrics of the songs. Akon sings ‘I wanna love you’, Snoop Dogg adds ‘I wanna fuck you’. Bodies move to booty calls. Eyes meet. The point’s made. Nobody need ask your place or mine?. Maybe that’s there in the song lyrics as well. Deal’s struck. Booze is expensive. Night’s young. So are you.
But then if you’re single, male, and around others with the same affliction, you were just dreaming right now. They won’t allow you into a nightclub. It’s for couples only. Despite weightier measures of time, the two people entering have already met, and so have already dated, drank, danced, and done all old-world things invented to break the ice since the Internet. Then, perhaps, they’re not single anymore. Social segregation is a vicious circle. Having a girlfriend exponentially increases your chances of finding another than being single ever does.
For a year or so I once co-ran an anonymous daily relationship column in an English daily in Mumbai. It was called Dear Diana, named after this well-travelled woman who could solve your daily problems. I was Diana. It was a popular read. Most of those writing in, I realised, were only checking if we would print their crazy queries, none of which were serious. They were almost all jigsaw puzzles about cousins sleeping with their daughters, who were in turn making love with both the dad and the aunt. The only genuine questions would inevitably be from a lost male soul: “I like this girl. What do I do?” Become her friend, I’d say. “How?” Get to know her friends first, and take it slowly from there, I guess. “How?” You know what, buddy? I don’t know.
A veteran tri-sexual acquaintance (the sort who serially tries for sex as his natural right) tells me he’s had it now. It is a hard life, unless you’re a rock star, or in the Indian context, a Bollywood hero who plays a rock star, I suppose. The friend says he’d rather start a political front for single men. There’d be enough support for his cause, he jokes. I don’t agree.
Nobody would openly join a group that automatically is presumed to comprise a bunch of cash-strapped, unstable varieties who walk around being single because, it is thought, they ought to be. No woman could stand the son of a gun, anyway. Even women are attracted more towards men who are already hitched. There’s mystique in the unattainable. Singles’ nights inevitably fail. Recent female responses to dating apps like Tinder suggest to me that it is mainly full of married freakoids or sexual ends. Neither help much in restoring the rep of the Indian single man anyway. “Deserters, all these people,” the ‘tri-sexual’ frowns at my analysis. You’d be the first one looking to desert your own group, I tell him. He agrees.
The Game is a celebrated Bible for single men that scientifically tutors an ‘average frustrated chump’ (AFC) to become a ‘pick-up artist’ (PUA) giving out few quick steps towards attracting pretty things at bars, cafés, malls, and discotheques. The bestseller studies various ‘seduction communities’ in the US. During the course of writing his experiences, author Neil Strauss, self- admittedly an AFC, attends workshops conducted by experts in serious ‘seduction communities’ before he gets anointed the world’s no. 1 PUA.
The single Indian man would be in awe of such a champion. Read the book and you’d be easily able to tell why the same methods could never be applied in his country. This isn’t to say I haven’t seen a desi dude with a ‘wing man’ at a local bar, ‘peacocking’ (dressing outrageously), ‘negging’ (sounding rude, but giving backhanded compliments), ‘kinoing’ (making harmless physical contact) . . . Yeah, I have basically seen him make a plum ass of himself in public. The desi girl is mostly unimpressed. She probably also knows he’s read the book.
The Game is yet another American dream. Women have widely panned the bestseller in the West for its overt male chauvinism. The premise is entirely sexist, yes. But sex-guru Strauss makes a significant point out there that should please the average female reader—that there are no ugly women, only lazy ones.
Everybody loves the single woman. The world donates her its affection, attention, drinks, dinner, coffee, couch, conversations, cupcakes, tags, hash-tags, friend requests, re- tweets, roses on Rose Day, proposals on Propose Day, self- respect on Valentine’s Day . . . She gifts them hope. Nobody loves a single man; not even the single man himself, and least of all the bouncer outside the club.
Anybody out there have any explanation what Plaxton Beaver bodied Mercedes Vario R184OCW is used for nowadays..........and perhaps why !. The former bus appears to be used in some sort of emergency support role, but carries no lettering to give any clues away. It was seen outside Fort William station by the way.
With the rain falling harder, it was a bit of a route march to Holborn and my next church, the stunning St Sepulchre, which was also open.
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St Sepulchre-without-Newgate, also known as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Holborn), is an Anglican church in the City of London. It is located on Holborn Viaduct, almost opposite the Old Bailey. In medieval times it stood just outside ("without") the now-demolished old city wall, near the Newgate. It has been a living of St John's College, Oxford, since 1622.
The original Saxon church on the site was dedicated to St Edmund the King and Martyr. During the Crusades in the 12th century the church was renamed St Edmund and the Holy Sepulchre, in reference to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The name eventually became contracted to St Sepulchre.
The church is today the largest parish church in the City. It was completely rebuilt in the 15th century but was gutted by the Great Fire of London in 1666,[1] which left only the outer walls, the tower and the porch standing[2] -. Modified in the 18th century, the church underwent extensive restoration in 1878. It narrowly avoided destruction in the Second World War, although the 18th-century watch-house in its churchyard (erected to deter grave-robbers) was completely destroyed and had to be rebuilt.
The interior of the church is a wide, roomy space with a coffered ceiling[3] installed in 1834. The Vicars' old residence has recently been renovated into a modern living quarter.
During the reign of Mary I in 1555, St Sepulchre's vicar, John Rogers, was burned as a heretic.
St Sepulchre is named in the nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons as the "bells of Old Bailey". Traditionally, the great bell would be rung to mark the execution of a prisoner at the nearby gallows at Newgate. The clerk of St Sepulchre's was also responsible for ringing a handbell outside the condemned man's cell in Newgate Prison to inform him of his impending execution. This handbell, known as the Execution Bell, now resides in a glass case to the south of the nave.
The church has been the official musicians' church for many years and is associated with many famous musicians. Its north aisle (formerly a chapel dedicated to Stephen Harding) is dedicated as the Musicians' Chapel, with four windows commemorating John Ireland, the singer Dame Nellie Melba, Walter Carroll and the conductor Sir Henry Wood respectively.[4] Wood, who "at the age of fourteen, learned to play the organ" at this church [1] and later became its organist, also has his ashes buried in this church.
The south aisle of the church holds the regimental chapel of the Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment), and its gardens are a memorial garden to that regiment.[5] The west end of the north aisle has various memorials connected with the City of London Rifles (the 6th Battalion London Regiment). The church was designated a Grade I listed building on 4 January 1950.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Sepulchre-without-Newgate
The Early History of St. Sepulchre's—Its Destruction in 1666—The Exterior and Interior—The Early Popularity of the Church—Interments here—Roger Ascham, the Author of the "Schoolmaster"—Captain John Smith, and his Romantic Adventures—Saved by an Indian Girl— St. Sepulchre's Churchyard—Accommodation for a Murderess—The Martyr Rogers—An Odd Circumstance—Good Company for the Dead—A Leap from the Tower—A Warning Bell and a Last Admonition—Nosegays for the Condemned—The Route to the Gallows-tree— The Deeds of the Charitable—The "Saracen's Head"—Description by Dickens—Giltspur Street—Giltspur Street Compter—A Disreputable Condition—Pie Corner—Hosier Lane—A Spurious Relic—The Conduit on Snow Hill—A Ladies' Charity School—Turnagain Lane—Poor Betty!—A Schoolmistress Censured—Skinner Street—Unpropitious Fortune—William Godwin—An Original Married Life.
Many interesting associations—Principally, however, connected with the annals of crime and the execution of the laws of England—belong to the Church of St. Sepulchre, or St. 'Pulchre. This sacred edifice—anciently known as St. Sepulchre's in the Bailey, or by Chamberlain Gate (now Newgate)—stands at the eastern end of the slight acclivity of Snow Hill, and between Smithfield and the Old Bailey. The genuine materials for its early history are scanty enough. It was probably founded about the commencement of the twelfth century, but of the exact date and circumstances of its origin there is no record whatever. Its name is derived from the Holy Sepulchre of our Saviour at Jerusalem, to the memory of which it was first dedicated.
The earliest authentic notice of the church, according to Maitland, is of the year 1178, at which date it was given by Roger, Bishop of Sarum, to the Prior and Canons of St. Bartholomew. These held the right of advowson until the dissolution of monasteries by Henry VIII., and from that time until 1610 it remained in the hands of the Crown. James I., however, then granted "the rectory and its appurtenances, with the advowson of the vicarage," to Francis Phillips and others. The next stage in its history is that the rectory was purchased by the parishioners, to be held in fee-farm of the Crown, and the advowson was obtained by the President and Fellows of St. John the Baptist College, at Oxford.
The church was rebuilt about the middle of the fifteenth century, when one of the Popham family, who had been Chancellor of Normandy and Treasurer of the King's Household, with distinguished liberality erected a handsome chapel on the south side of the choir, and the very beautiful porch still remaining at the south-west corner of the building. "His image," Stow says, "fair graven in stone, was fixed over the said porch."
The dreadful fire of 1666 almost destroyed St. Sepulchre's, but the parishioners set energetically to work, and it was "rebuilt and beautified both within and without." The general reparation was under the direction of Sir Christopher Wren, and nothing but the walls of the old building, and these not entirely, were suffered to remain. The work was done rapidly, and the whole was completed within four years.
"The tower," says Mr. Godwin, "retained its original aspect, and the body of the church, after its restoration, presented a series of windows between buttresses, with pointed heads filled with tracery, crowned by a string-course and battlements. In this form it remained till the year 1790, when it appears the whole fabric was found to be in a state of great decay, and it was resolved to repair it throughout. Accordingly the walls of the church were cased with Portland stone, and all the windows were taken out and replaced by others with plain semi-circular heads, as now seen—certainly agreeing but badly with the tower and porch of the building, but according with the then prevailing spirit of economy. The battlements, too, were taken down, and a plain stone parapet was substituted, so that at this time (with the exception of the roof, which was wagon-headed, and presented on the outside an unsightly swell, visible above the parapet) the church assumed its present appearance." The ungainly roof was removed, and an entirely new one erected, about 1836.
At each corner of the tower—"one of the most ancient," says the author of "Londinium Redivivum," "in the outline of the circuit of London" —there are spires, and on the spires there are weathercocks. These have been made use of by Howell to point a moral: "Unreasonable people," says he, "are as hard to reconcile as the vanes of St. Sepulchre's tower, which never look all four upon one point of the heavens." Nothing can be said with certainty as to the date of the tower, but it is not without the bounds of probability that it formed part of the original building. The belfry is reached by a small winding staircase in the south-west angle, and a similar staircase in an opposite angle leads to the summit. The spires at the corners, and some of the tower windows, have very recently undergone several alterations, which have added much to the picturesqueness and beauty of the church.
The chief entrance to St. Sepulchre's is by a porch of singular beauty, projecting from the south side of the tower, at the western end of the church. The groining of the ceiling of this porch, it has been pointed out, takes an almost unique form; the ribs are carved in bold relief, and the bosses at the intersections represent angels' heads, shields, roses, &c., in great variety.
Coming now to the interior of the church, we find it divided into three aisles, by two ranges of Tuscan columns. The aisles are of unequal widths, that in the centre being the widest, that to the south the narrowest. Semi-circular arches connect the columns on either side, springing directly from their capitals, without the interposition of an entablature, and support a large dental cornice, extending round the church. The ceiling of the middle aisle is divided into seven compartments, by horizontal bands, the middle compartment being formed into a small dome.
The aisles have groined ceilings, ornamented at the angles with doves, &c., and beneath every division of the groining are small windows, to admit light to the galleries. Over each of the aisles there is a gallery, very clumsily introduced, which dates from the time when the church was built by Wren, and extends the whole length, excepting at the chancel. The front of the gallery, which is of oak, is described by Mr. Godwin as carved into scrolls, branches, &c., in the centre panel, on either side, with the initials "C. R.," enriched with carvings of laurel, which have, however, he says, "but little merit."
At the east end of the church there are three semicircular-headed windows. Beneath the centre one is a large Corinthian altar-piece of oak, displaying columns, entablatures, &c., elaborately carved and gilded.
The length of the church, exclusive of the ambulatory, is said to be 126 feet, the breadth 68 feet, and the height of the tower 140 feet.
A singularly ugly sounding-board, extending over the preacher, used to stand at the back of the pulpit, at the east end of the church. It was in the shape of a large parabolic reflector, about twelve feet in diameter, and was composed of ribs of mahogany.
At the west end of the church there is a large organ, said to be the oldest and one of the finest in London. It was built in 1677, and has been greatly enlarged. Its reed-stops (hautboy, clarinet, &c.) are supposed to be unrivalled. In Newcourt's time the church was taken notice of as "remarkable for possessing an exceedingly fine organ, and the playing is thought so beautiful, that large congregations are attracted, though some of the parishioners object to the mode of performing divine service."
On the north side of the church, Mr. Godwin mentions, is a large apartment known as "St. Stephen's Chapel." This building evidently formed a somewhat important part of the old church, and was probably appropriated to the votaries of the saint whose name it bears.
Between the exterior and the interior of the church there is little harmony. "For example," says Mr. Godwin, "the columns which form the south aisle face, in some instances, the centre of the large windows which occur in the external wall of the church, and in others the centre of the piers, indifferently." This discordance may likely enough have arisen from the fact that when the church was rebuilt, or rather restored, after the Great Fire, the works were done without much attention from Sir Christopher Wren.
St. Sepulchre's appears to have enjoyed considerable popularity from the earliest period of its history, if one is to judge from the various sums left by well-disposed persons for the support of certain fraternities founded in the church—namely, those of St. Katherine, St. Michael, St. Anne, and Our Lady—and by others, for the maintenance of chantry priests to celebrate masses at stated intervals for the good of their souls. One of the fraternities just named—that of St. Katherine— originated, according to Stow, in the devotion of some poor persons in the parish, and was in honour of the conception of the Virgin Mary. They met in the church on the day of the Conception, and there had the mass of the day, and offered to the same, and provided a certain chaplain daily to celebrate divine service, and to set up wax lights before the image belonging to the fraternity, on all festival days.
The most famous of all who have been interred in St. Sepulchre's is Roger Ascham, the author of the "Schoolmaster," and the instructor of Queen Elizabeth in Greek and Latin. This learned old worthy was born in 1515, near Northallerton, in Yorkshire. He was educated at Cambridge University, and in time rose to be the university orator, being notably zealous in promoting what was then a novelty in England—the study of the Greek language. To divert himself after the fatigue of severe study, he used to devote himself to archery. This drew down upon him the censure of the all-work-and-no-play school; and in defence of himself, Ascham, in 1545, published "Toxophilus," a treatise on his favourite sport. This book is even yet well worthy of perusal, for its enthusiasm, and for its curious descriptions of the personal appearance and manners of the principal persons whom the author had seen and conversed with. Henry VIII. rewarded him with a pension of £10 per annum, a considerable sum in those days. In 1548, Ascham, on the death of William Grindall, who had been his pupil, was appointed instructor in the learned languages to Lady Elizabeth, afterwards the good Queen Bess. At the end of two years he had some dispute with, or took a disgust at, Lady Elizabeth's attendants, resigned his situation, and returned to his college. Soon after this he was employed as secretary to the English ambassador at the court of Charles V. of Germany, and remained abroad till the death of Edward VI. During his absence he had been appointed Latin secretary to King Edward. Strangely enough, though Queen Mary and her ministers were Papists, and Ascham a Protestant, he was retained in his office of Latin secretary, his pension was increased to £20, and he was allowed to retain his fellowship and his situation as university orator. In 1554 he married a lady of good family, by whom he had a considerable fortune, and of whom, in writing to a friend, he gives, as might perhaps be expected, an excellent character. On the accession of Queen Elizabeth, in 1558, she not only required his services as Latin secretary, but as her instructor in Greek, and he resided at Court during the remainder of his life. He died in consequence of his endeavours to complete a Latin poem which he intended to present to the queen on the New Year's Day of 1569. He breathed his last two days before 1568 ran out, and was interred, according to his own directions, in the most private manner, in St. Sepulchre's Church, his funeral sermon being preached by Dr. Andrew Nowell, Dean of St. Paul's. He was universally lamented; and even the queen herself not only showed great concern, but was pleased to say that she would rather have lost ten thousand pounds than her tutor Ascham, which, from that somewhat closehanded sovereign, was truly an expression of high regard.
Ascham, like most men, had his little weaknesses. He had too great a propensity to dice and cock-fighting. Bishop Nicholson would try to convince us that this is an unfounded calumny, but, as it is mentioned by Camden, and other contemporary writers, it seems impossible to deny it. He died, from all accounts, in indifferent circumstances. "Whether," says Dr. Johnson, referring to this, "Ascham was poor by his own fault, or the fault of others, cannot now be decided; but it is certain that many have been rich with less merit. His philological learning would have gained him honour in any country; and among us it may justly call for that reverence which all nations owe to those who first rouse them from ignorance, and kindle among them the light of literature." His most valuable work, "The Schoolmaster," was published by his widow. The nature of this celebrated performance may be gathered from the title: "The Schoolmaster; or a plain and perfite way of teaching children to understand, write, and speak the Latin tongue. … And commodious also for all such as have forgot the Latin tongue, and would by themselves, without a schoolmaster, in short time, and with small pains, recover a sufficient habilitie to understand, write, and speak Latin: by Roger Ascham, ann. 1570. At London, printed by John Daye, dwelling over Aldersgate," a printer, by the way, already mentioned by us a few chapters back (see page 208), as having printed several noted works of the sixteenth century.
Dr. Johnson remarks that the instruction recommended in "The Schoolmaster" is perhaps the best ever given for the study of languages.
Here also lies buried Captain John Smith, a conspicuous soldier of fortune, whose romantic adventures and daring exploits have rarely been surpassed. He died on the 21st of June, 1631. This valiant captain was born at Willoughby, in the county of Lincoln, and helped by his doings to enliven the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. He had a share in the wars of Hungary in 1602, and in three single combats overcame three Turks, and cut off their heads. For this, and other equally brave deeds, Sigismund, Duke of Transylvania, gave him his picture set in gold, with a pension of three hundred ducats; and allowed him to bear three Turks' heads proper as his shield of arms. He afterwards went to America, where he had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the Indians. He escaped from them, however, at last, and resumed his brilliant career by hazarding his life in naval engagements with pirates and Spanish men-of-war. The most important act of his life was the share he had in civilising the natives of New England, and reducing that province to obedience to Great Britain. In connection with his tomb in St. Sepulchre's, he is mentioned by Stow, in his "Survey," as "some time Governor of Virginia and Admiral of New England."
Certainly the most interesting events of his chequered career were his capture by the Indians, and the saving of his life by the Indian girl Pocahontas, a story of adventure that charms as often as it is told. Bancroft, the historian of the United States, relates how, during the early settlement of Virginia, Smith left the infant colony on an exploring expedition, and not only ascended the river Chickahominy, but struck into the interior. His companions disobeyed his instructions, and being surprised by the Indians, were put to death. Smith preserved his own life by calmness and self-possession. Displaying a pocket-compass, he amused the savages by an explanation of its power, and increased their admiration of his superior genius by imparting to them some vague conceptions of the form of the earth, and the nature of the planetary system. To the Indians, who retained him as their prisoner, his captivity was a more strange event than anything of which the traditions of their tribes preserved the memory. He was allowed to send a letter to the fort at Jamestown, and the savage wonder was increased, for he seemed by some magic to endow the paper with the gift of intelligence. It was evident that their captive was a being of a high order, and then the question arose, Was his nature beneficent, or was he to be dreaded as a dangerous enemy? Their minds were bewildered, and the decision of his fate was referred to the chief Powhatan, and before Powhatan Smith was brought. "The fears of the feeble aborigines," says Bancroft, "were about to prevail, and his immediate death, already repeatedly threatened and repeatedly delayed, would have been inevitable, but for the timely intercession of Pocahontas, a girl twelve years old, the daughter of Powhatan, whose confiding fondness Smith had easily won, and who firmly clung to his neck, as his head was bowed down to receive the stroke of the tomahawks. His fearlessness, and her entreaties, persuaded the council to spare the agreeable stranger, who could make hatchets for her father, and rattles and strings of beads for herself, the favourite child. The barbarians, whose decision had long been held in suspense by the mysterious awe which Smith had inspired, now resolved to receive him as a friend, and to make him a partner of their councils. They tempted him to join their bands, and lend assistance in an attack upon the white men at Jamestown; and when his decision of character succeeded in changing the current of their thoughts, they dismissed him with mutual promises of friendship and benevolence. Thus the captivity of Smith did itself become a benefit to the colony; for he had not only observed with care the country between the James and the Potomac, and had gained some knowledge of the language and manners of the natives, but he now established a peaceful intercourse between the English and the tribes of Powhatan."
On the monument erected to Smith in St. Sepulchre's Church, the following quaint lines were formerly inscribed:—
"Here lies one conquered that hath conquered kings,
Subdued large territories, and done things
Which to the world impossible would seem,
But that the truth is held in more esteem.
Shall I report his former service done,
In honour of his God, and Christendom?
How that he did divide, from pagans three,
Their heads and lives, types of his chivalry?—
For which great service, in that climate done,
Brave Sigismundus, King of Hungarion,
Did give him, as a coat of arms, to wear
These conquered heads, got by his sword and spear.
Or shall I tell of his adventures since
Done in Virginia, that large continent?
How that he subdued kings unto his yoke,
And made those heathens flee, as wind doth smoke;
And made their land, being so large a station,
An habitation for our Christian nation,
Where God is glorified, their wants supplied;
Which else for necessaries, must have died.
But what avails his conquests, now he lies
Interred in earth, a prey to worms and flies?
Oh! may his soul in sweet Elysium sleep,
Until the Keeper, that all souls doth keep,
Return to judgment; and that after thence
With angels he may have his recompense."
Sir Robert Peake, the engraver, also found a last resting-place here. He is known as the master of William Faithorne—the famous English engraver of the seventeenth century—and governor of Basing House for the king during the Civil War under Charles I. He died in 1667. Here also was interred the body of Dr. Bell, grandfather of the originator of a well-known system of education.
"The churchyard of St. Sepulchre's," we learn from Maitland, "at one time extended so far into the street on the south side of the church, as to render the passage-way dangerously narrow. In 1760 the churchyard was, in consequence, levelled, and thrown open to the public. But this led to much inconvenience, and it was re-enclosed in 1802."
Sarah Malcolm, the murderess, was buried in the churchyard of St. Sepulchre's in 1733. This coldhearted and keen-eyed monster in human form has had her story told by us already. The parishioners seem, on this occasion, to have had no such scruples as had been exhibited by their predecessors a hundred and fifty years previous at the burial of Awfield, a traitor. We shall see presently that in those more remote days they were desirous of having at least respectable company for their deceased relatives and friends in the churchyard.
"For a long period," says Mr. Godwin (1838), "the church was surrounded by low mean buildings, by which its general appearance was hidden; but these having been cleared away, and the neighbourhood made considerably more open, St. Sepulchre's now forms a somewhat pleasing object, notwithstanding that the tower and a part of the porch are so entirely dissimilar in style to the remainder of the building." And since Godwin's writing the surroundings of the church have been so improved that perhaps few buildings in the metropolis stand more prominently before the public eye.
In the glorious roll of martyrs who have suffered at the stake for their religious principles, a vicar of St. Sepulchre's, the Reverend John Rogers, occupies a conspicuous place. He was the first who was burned in the reign of the Bloody Mary. This eminent person had at one time been chaplain to the English merchants at Antwerp, and while residing in that city had aided Tindal and Coverdale in their great work of translating the Bible. He married a German lady of good position, by whom he had a large family, and was enabled, by means of her relations, to reside in peace and safety in Germany. It appeared to be his duty, however, to return to England, and there publicly profess and advocate his religious convictions, even at the risk of death. He crossed the sea; he took his place in the pulpit at St. Paul's Cross; he preached a fearless and animated sermon, reminding his astonished audience of the pure and wholesome doctrine which had been promulgated from that pulpit in the days of the good King Edward, and solemnly warning them against the pestilent idolatry and superstition of these new times. It was his last sermon. He was apprehended, tried, condemned, and burned at Smithfield. We described, when speaking of Smithfield, the manner in which he met his fate.
Connected with the martyrdom of Rogers an odd circumstance is quoted in the "Churches of London." It is stated that when the bishops had resolved to put to death Joan Bocher, a friend came to Rogers and earnestly entreated his influence that the poor woman's life might be spared, and other means taken to prevent the spread of her heterodox doctrines. Rogers, however, contended that she should be executed; and his friend then begged him to choose some other kind of death, which should be more agreeable to the gentleness and mercy prescribed in the gospel. "No," replied Rogers, "burning alive is not a cruel death, but easy enough." His friend hearing these words, expressive of so little regard for the sufferings of a fellow-creature, answered him with great vehemence, at the same time striking Rogers' hand, "Well, it may perhaps so happen that you yourself shall have your hands full of this mild burning." There is no record of Rogers among the papers belonging to St. Sepulchre's, but this may easily be accounted for by the fact that at the Great Fire of 1666 nearly all the registers and archives were destroyed.
A noteworthy incident in the history of St. Sepulchre's was connected with the execution, in 1585, of Awfield, for "sparcinge abrood certen lewed, sedicious, and traytorous bookes." "When he was executed," says Fleetwood, the Recorder, in a letter to Lord Burleigh, July 7th of that year, "his body was brought unto St. Pulcher's to be buryed, but the parishioners would not suffer a traytor's corpse to be laid in the earth where their parents, wives, children, kindred, masters, and old neighbours did rest; and so his carcass was returned to the burial-ground near Tyburn, and there I leave it."
Another event in the history of the church is a tale of suicide. On the 10th of April, 1600, a man named William Dorrington threw himself from the roof of the tower, leaving there a prayer for forgiveness.
We come now to speak of the connection of St. Sepulchre's with the neighbouring prison of Newgate. Being the nearest church to the prison, that connection naturally was intimate. Its clock served to give the time to the hangman when there was an execution in the Old Bailey, and many a poor wretch's last moments must it have regulated.
On the right-hand side of the altar a board with a list of charitable donations and gifts used to contain the following item:—"1605. Mr. Robert Dowe gave, for ringing the greatest bell in this church on the day the condemned prisoners are executed, and for other services, for ever, concerning such condemned prisoners, for which services the sexton is paid £16s. 8d.—£50.
It was formerly the practice for the clerk or bellman of St. Sepulchre's to go under Newgate, on the night preceding the execution of a criminal, ring his bell, and repeat the following wholesome advice:—
"All you that in the condemned hold do lie,
Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die;
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent.
And when St. Sepulchre's bell to-morrow tolls,
The Lord above have mercy on your souls.
Past twelve o'clock!"
This practice is explained by a passage in Munday's edition of Stow, in which it is told that a Mr. John Dowe, citizen and merchant taylor of London, gave £50 to the parish church of St. Sepulchre's, under the following conditions:—After the several sessions of London, on the night before the execution of such as were condemned to death, the clerk of the church was to go in the night-time, and also early in the morning, to the window of the prison in which they were lying. He was there to ring "certain tolls with a hand-bell" appointed for the purpose, and was afterwards, in a most Christian manner, to put them in mind of their present condition and approaching end, and to exhort them to be prepared, as they ought to be, to die. When they were in the cart, and brought before the walls of the church, the clerk was to stand there ready with the same bell, and, after certain tolls, rehearse a prayer, desiring all the people there present to pray for the unfortunate criminals. The beadle, also, of Merchant Taylors' Hall was allowed an "honest stipend" to see that this ceremony was regularly performed.
The affecting admonition—"affectingly good," Pennant calls it—addressed to the prisoners in Newgate, on the night before execution, ran as follows:—
"You prisoners that are within,
Who, for wickedness and sin,
after many mercies shown you, are now appointed to die to-morrow in the forenoon; give ear and understand that, to-morrow morning, the greatest bell of St. Sepulchre's shall toll for you, in form and manner of a passing-bell, as used to be tolled for those that are at the point of death; to the end that all godly people, hearing that bell, and knowing it is for your going to your deaths, may be stirred up heartily to pray to God to bestow his grace and mercy upon you, whilst you live. I beseech you, for Jesus Christ's sake, to keep this night in watching and prayer, to the salvation of your own souls while there is yet time and place for mercy; as knowing to-morrow you must appear before the judgment-seat of your Creator, there to give an account of all things done in this life, and to suffer eternal torments for your sins committed against Him, unless, upon your hearty and unfeigned repentance, you find mercy through the merits, death, and passion of your only Mediator and Advocate, Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return to Him."
And the following was the admonition to condemned criminals, as they were passing by St. Sepulchre's Church wall to execution:—" All good people, pray heartily unto God for these poor sinners, who are now going to their death, for whom this great bell doth toll.
"You that are condemned to die, repent with lamentable tears; ask mercy of the Lord, for the salvation of your own souls, through the [merits, death, and passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return unto Him.
"Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you.
Lord have mercy upon you;
Christ have mercy upon you."
The charitable Mr. Dowe, who took such interest in the last moments of the occupants of the condemned cell, was buried in the church of St. Botolph, Aldgate.
Another curious custom observed at St. Sepulchre's was the presentation of a nosegay to every criminal on his way to execution at Tyburn. No doubt the practice had its origin in some kindly feeling for the poor unfortunates who were so soon to bid farewell to all the beauties of earth. One of the last who received a nosegay from the steps of St. Sepulchre's was "Sixteen-string Jack," alias John Rann, who was hanged, in 1774, for robbing the Rev. Dr. Bell of his watch and eighteen pence in money, in Gunnersbury Lane, on the road to Brentford. Sixteen-string Jack wore the flowers in his button-hole as he rode dolefully to the gallows. This was witnessed by John Thomas Smith, who thus describes the scene in his admirable anecdotebook, "Nollekens and his Times:"—" I remember well, when I was in my eighth year, Mr. Nollekens calling at my father's house, in Great Portland Street, and taking us to Oxford Street, to see the notorious Jack Rann, commonly called Sixteenstring Jack, go to Tyburn to be hanged. … The criminal was dressed in a pea-green coat, with an immense nosegay in the button-hole, which had been presented to him at St. Sepulchre's steps; and his nankeen small-clothes, we were told, were tied at each knee with sixteen strings. After he had passed, and Mr. Nollekens was leading me home by the hand, I recollect his stooping down to me and observing, in a low tone of voice, 'Tom, now, my little man, if my father-in-law, Mr. Justice Welch, had been high constable, we could have walked by the side of the cart all the way to Tyburn.'"
When criminals were conveyed from Newgate to Tyburn, the cart passed up Giltspur Street, and through Smithfield, to Cow Lane. Skinner Street had not then been built, and the Crooked Lane which turned down by St. Sepulchre's, as well as Ozier Lane, did not afford sufficient width to admit of the cavalcade passing by either of them, with convenience, to Holborn Hill, or "the Heavy Hill," as it used to be called. The procession seems at no time to have had much of the solemn element about it. "The heroes of the day were often," says a popular writer, "on good terms with the mob, and jokes were exchanged between the men who were going to be hanged and the men who deserved to be."
"On St. Paul's Day," says Mr. Timbs (1868), "service is performed in St. Sepulchre's, in accordance with the will of Mr. Paul Jervis, who, in 1717, devised certain land in trust that a sermon should be preached in the church upon every Paul's Day upon the excellence of the liturgy o the Church of England; the preacher to receive 40s. for such sermon. Various sums are also bequeathed to the curate, the clerk, the treasurer, and masters of the parochial schools. To the poor of the parish he bequeathed 20s. a-piece to ten of the poorest householders within that part of the parish of St. Sepulchre commonly called Smithfield quarter, £4 to the treasurer of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and 6s. 8d. yearly to the clerk, who shall attend to receive the same. The residue of the yearly rents and profits is to be distributed unto and amongst such poor people of the parish of St. Sepulchre's, London, who shall attend the service and sermon. At the close of the service the vestry-clerk reads aloud an extract from the will, and then proceeds to the distribution of the money. In the evening the vicar, churchwardens, and common councilmen of the precinct dine together."
In 1749, a Mr. Drinkwater made a praiseworthy bequest. He left the parish of St. Sepulchre £500 to be lent in sums of £25 to industrious young tradesmen. No interest was to be charged, and the money was to be lent for four years.
Next to St. Sepulchre's, on Snow Hill, used to stand the famous old inn of the "Saracen's Head." It was only swept away within the last few years by the ruthless army of City improvers: a view of it in course of demolition was given on page 439. It was one of the oldest of the London inns which bore the "Saracen's Head" for a sign. One of Dick Tarlton's jests makes mention of the "Saracen's Head" without Newgate, and Stow, describing this neighbourhood, speaks particularly of "a fair large inn for receipt of travellers" that "hath to sign the 'Saracen's Head.'" The courtyard had, to the last, many of the characteristics of an old English inn; there were galleries all round leading to the bedrooms, and a spacious gateway through which the dusty mail-coaches used to rumble, the tired passengers creeping forth "thanking their stars in having escaped the highwaymen and the holes and sloughs of the road." Into that courtyard how many have come on their first arrival in London with hearts beating high with hope, some of whom have risen to be aldermen and sit in state as lord mayor, whilst others have gone the way of the idle apprentice and come to a sad end at Tyburn! It was at this inn that Nicholas Nickleby and his uncle waited upon the Yorkshire schoolmaster Squeers, of Dotheboys Hall. Mr. Dickens describes the tavern as it existed in the last days of mail-coaching, when it was a most important place for arrivals and departures in London:—
"Next to the jail, and by consequence near to Smithfield also, and the Compter and the bustle and noise of the City, and just on that particular part of Snow Hill where omnibus horses going eastwards seriously think of falling down on purpose, and where horses in hackney cabriolets going westwards not unfrequently fall by accident, is the coach-yard of the 'Saracen's Head' inn, its portals guarded by two Saracen's heads and shoulders, which it was once the pride and glory of the choice spirits of this metropolis to pull down at night, but which have for some time remained in undisturbed tranquillity, possibly because this species of humour is now confined to St. James's parish, where doorknockers are preferred as being more portable, and bell-wires esteemed as convenient tooth-picks. Whether this be the reason or not, there they are, frowning upon you from each side of the gateway; and the inn itself, garnished with another Saracen's head, frowns upon you from the top of the yard; while from the door of the hind-boot of all the red coaches that are standing therein, there glares a small Saracen's head with a twin expression to the large Saracen's head below, so that the general appearance of the pile is of the Saracenic order."
To explain the use of the Saracen's head as an inn sign various reasons have been given. "When our countrymen," says Selden, "came home from fighting with the Saracens and were beaten by them, they pictured them with huge, big, terrible faces (as you still see the 'Saracen's Head' is), when in truth they were like other men. But this they did to save their own credit." Or the sign may have been adopted by those who had visited the Holy Land either as pilgrims or to fight the Saracens. Others, again, hold that it was first set up in compliment to the mother of Thomas à Becket, who was the daughter of a Saracen. However this may be, it is certain that the use of the sign in former days was very general.
Running past the east end of St. Sepulchre's, from Newgate into West Smithfield, is Giltspur Street, anciently called Knightriders Street. This interesting thoroughfare derives its name from the knights with their gilt spurs having been accustomed to ride this way to the jousts and tournaments which in days of old were held in Smithfield.
In this street was Giltspur Street Compter, a debtors' prison and house of correction appertaining to the sheriffs of London and Middlesex. It stood over against St. Sepulchre's Church, and was removed hither from the east side of Wood Street, Cheapside, in 1791. At the time of its removal it was used as a place of imprisonment for debtors, but the yearly increasing demands upon the contracted space caused that department to be given up, and City debtors were sent to Whitecross Street. The architect was Dance, to whom we are also indebted for the grim pile of Newgate. The Compter was a dirty and appropriately convictlooking edifice. It was pulled down in 1855. Mr. Hepworth Dixon gave an interesting account of this City House of Correction, not long before its demolition, in his "London Prisons" (1850). "Entering," he says, "at the door facing St. Sepulchre's, the visitor suddenly finds himself in a low dark passage, leading into the offices of the gaol, and branching off into other passages, darker, closer, more replete with noxious smells, than even those of Newgate. This is the fitting prelude to what follows. The prison, it must be noticed, is divided into two principal divisions, the House of Correction and the Compter. The front in Giltspur Street, and the side nearest to Newgate Street, is called the Compter. In its wards are placed detenues of various kinds—remands, committals from the police-courts, and generally persons waiting for trial, and consequently still unconvicted. The other department, the House of Correction, occupies the back portion of the premises, abutting on Christ's Hospital. Curious it is to consider how thin a wall divides these widely-separate worlds! And sorrowful it is to think what a difference of destiny awaits the children—destiny inexorable, though often unearned in either case—who, on the one side of it or the other, receive an eleemosynary education! The collegian and the criminal! Who shall say how much mere accident— circumstances over which the child has little power —determines to a life of usefulness or mischief? From the yards of Giltspur Street prison almost the only objects visible, outside of the gaol itself, are the towers of Christ's Hospital; the only sounds audible, the shouts of the scholars at their play. The balls of the hospital boys often fall within the yards of the prison. Whether these sights and sounds ever cause the criminal to pause and reflect upon the courses of his life, we will not say, but the stranger visiting the place will be very apt to think for him. …
"In the department of the prison called the House of Correction, minor offenders within the City of London are imprisoned. No transports are sent hither, nor is any person whose sentence is above three years in length." This able writer then goes on to tell of the many crying evils connected with the institution—the want of air, the over-crowded state of the rooms, the absence of proper cellular accommodation, and the vicious intercourse carried on amongst the prisoners. The entire gaol, when he wrote, only contained thirty-six separate sleeping-rooms. Now by the highest prison calculation—and this, be it noted, proceeds on the assumption that three persons can sleep in small, miserable, unventilated cells, which are built for only one, and are too confined for that, being only about one-half the size of the model cell for one at Pentonville—it was only capable of accommodating 203 prisoners, yet by the returns issued at Michaelmas, 1850, it contained 246!
A large section of the prison used to be devoted to female delinquents, but lately it was almost entirely given up to male offenders.
"The House of Correction, and the Compter portion of the establishment," says Mr. Dixon, "are kept quite distinct, but it would be difficult to award the palm of empire in their respective facilities for demoralisation. We think the Compter rather the worse of the two. You are shown into a room, about the size of an apartment in an ordinary dwelling-house, which will be found crowded with from thirty to forty persons, young and old, and in their ordinary costume; the low thief in his filth and rags, and the member of the swell-mob with his bright buttons, flash finery, and false jewels. Here you notice the boy who has just been guilty of his first offence, and committed for trial, learning with a greedy mind a thousand criminal arts, and listening with the precocious instinct of guilty passions to stories and conversations the most depraved and disgusting. You regard him with a mixture of pity and loathing, for he knows that the eyes of his peers are upon him, and he stares at you with a familiar impudence, and exhibits a devil-may-care countenance, such as is only to be met with in the juvenile offender. Here, too, may be seen the young clerk, taken up on suspicion—perhaps innocent—who avoids you with a shy look of pain and uneasiness: what a hell must this prison be to him! How frightful it is to think of a person really untainted with crime, compelled to herd for ten or twenty days with these abandoned wretches!
"On the other, the House of Correction side of the gaol, similar rooms will be found, full of prisoners communicating with each other, laughing and shouting without hindrance. All this is so little in accordance with existing notions of prison discipline, that one is continually fancying these disgraceful scenes cannot be in the capital of England, and in the year of grace 1850. Very few of the prisoners attend school or receive any instruction; neither is any kind of employment afforded them, except oakum-picking, and the still more disgusting labour of the treadmill. When at work, an officer is in attendance to prevent disorderly conduct; but his presence is of no avail as a protection to the less depraved. Conversation still goes on; and every facility is afforded for making acquaintances, and for mutual contamination."
After having long been branded by intelligent inspectors as a disgrace to the metropolis, Giltspur Street Compter was condemned, closed in 1854, and subsequently taken down.
Nearly opposite what used to be the site of the Compter, and adjoining Cock Lane, is the spot called Pie Corner, near which terminated the Great Fire of 1666. The fire commenced at Pudding Lane, it will be remembered, so it was singularly appropriate that it should terminate at Pie Corner. Under the date of 4th September, 1666, Pepys, in his "Diary," records that "W. Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes home late, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye Corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way." The figure of a fat naked boy stands over a public house at the corner of the lane; it used to have the following warning inscription attached:— "This boy is in memory put up of the late fire of London, occasioned by the sin of gluttony, 1666." According to Stow, Pie Corner derived its name from the sign of a well-frequented hostelry, which anciently stood on the spot. Strype makes honourable mention of Pie Corner, as "noted chiefly for cooks' shops and pigs dressed there during Bartholomew Fair." Our old writers have many references—and not all, by the way, in the best taste—to its cookstalls and dressed pork. Shadwell, for instance, in the Woman Captain (1680) speaks of "meat dressed at Pie Corner by greasy scullions;" and Ben Jonson writes in the Alchemist (1612)—
"I shall put you in mind, sir, at Pie Corner,
Taking your meal of steam in from cooks' stalls."
And in "The Great Boobee" ("Roxburgh Ballads"):
"Next day I through Pie Corner passed;
The roast meat on the stall
Invited me to take a taste;
My money was but small."
But Pie Corner seems to have been noted for more than eatables. A ballad from Tom D'Urfey's "Pills to Purge Melancholy," describing Bartholomew Fair, eleven years before the Fire of London, says:—
"At Pie-Corner end, mark well my good friend,
'Tis a very fine dirty place;
Where there's more arrows and bows. …
Than was handled at Chivy Chase."
We have already given a view of Pie Corner in our chapter on Smithfield, page 361.
Hosier Lane, running from Cow Lane to Smithfield, and almost parallel to Cock Lane, is described by "R. B.," in Strype, as a place not over-well built or inhabited. The houses were all old timber erections. Some of these—those standing at the south corner of the lane—were in the beginning of this century depicted by Mr. J. T. Smith, in his "Ancient Topography of London." He describes them as probably of the reign of James I. The rooms were small, with low, unornamented ceilings; the timber, oak, profusely used; the gables were plain, and the walls lath and plaster. They were taken down in 1809.
In the corner house, in Mr. Smith's time, there was a barber whose name was Catchpole; at least, so it was written over the door. He was rather an odd fellow, and possessed, according to his own account, a famous relic of antiquity. He would gravely show his customers a short-bladed instrument, as the identical dagger with which Walworth killed Wat Tyler.
Hosier Lane, like Pie Corner, used to be a great resort during the time of Bartholomew Fair, "all the houses," it is said in Strype, "generally being made public for tippling."
We return now from our excursion to the north of St. Sepulchre's, and continue our rambles to the west, and before speaking of what is, let us refer to what has been.
Turnagain Lane is not far from this. "Near unto this Seacoal Lane," remarks Stow, "in the turning towards Holborn Conduit, is Turnagain Lane, or rather, as in a record of the 5th of Edward III., Windagain Lane, for that it goeth down west to Fleet Dyke, from whence men must turn again the same way they came, but there it stopped." There used to be a proverb, "He must take him a house in Turnagain Lane."
A conduit formerly stood on Snow Hill, a little below the church. It is described as a building with four equal sides, ornamented with four columns and pediment, surmounted by a pyramid, on which stood a lamb—a rebus on the name of Lamb, from whose conduit in Red Lion Street the water came. There had been a conduit there, however, before Lamb's day, which was towards the close of the sixteenth century.
At No. 37, King Street, Snow Hill, there used to be a ladies' charity school, which was established in 1702, and remained in the parish 145 years. Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale were subscribers to this school, and Johnson drew from it his story of Betty Broom, in "The Idler." The world of domestic service, in Betty's days, seems to have been pretty much as now. Betty was a poor girl, bred in the country at a charity-school, maintained by the contributions of wealthy neighbours. The patronesses visited the school from time to time, to see how the pupils got on, and everything went well, till "at last, the chief of the subscribers having passed a winter in London, came down full of an opinion new and strange to the whole country. She held it little less than criminal to teach poor girls to read and write. They who are born to poverty, she said, are born to ignorance, and will work the harder the less they know. She told her friends that London was in confusion by the insolence of servants; that scarcely a girl could be got for all-work, since education had made such numbers of fine ladies, that nobody would now accept a lower title than that of a waiting-maid, or something that might qualify her to wear laced shoes and long ruffles, and to sit at work in the parlour window. But she was resolved, for her part, to spoil no more girls. Those who were to live by their hands should neither read nor write out of her pocket. The world was bad enough already, and she would have no part in making it worse.
"She was for a long time warmly opposed; but she persevered in her notions, and withdrew her subscription. Few listen, without a desire of conviction, to those who advise them to spare their money. Her example and her arguments gained ground daily; and in less than a year the whole parish was convinced that the nation would be ruined if the children of the poor were taught to read and write." So the school was dissolved, and Betty with the rest was turned adrift into the wide and cold world; and her adventures there any one may read in "The Idler" for himself.
There is an entry in the school minutes of 1763, to the effect that the ladies of the committee censured the schoolmistress for listening to the story of the Cock Lane ghost, and "desired her to keep her belief in the article to herself."
Skinner Street—now one of the names of the past—which ran by the south side of St. Sepulchre's, and formed the connecting link between Newgate Street and Holborn, received its name from Alderman Skinner, through whose exertions, about 1802, it was principally built. The following account of Skinner Street is from the picturesque pen of Mr. William Harvey ("Aleph"), whose long familiarity with the places he describes renders doubly valuable his many contributions to the history of London scenes and people:—"As a building speculation," he says, writing in 1863, "it was a failure. When the buildings were ready for occupation, tall and substantial as they really were, the high rents frightened intending shopkeepers. Tenants were not to be had; and in order to get over the money difficulty, a lottery, sanctioned by Parliament, was commenced. Lotteries were then common tricks of finance, and nobody wondered at the new venture; but even the most desperate fortune-hunters were slow to invest their capital, and the tickets hung sadly on hand. The day for the drawing was postponed several times, and when it came, there was little or no excitement on the subject, and whoever rejoiced in becoming a house-owner on such easy terms, the original projectors and builders were understood to have suffered considerably. The winners found the property in a very unfinished condition. Few of the dwellings were habitable, and as funds were often wanting, a majority of the houses remained empty, and the shops unopened. After two or three years things began to improve; the vast many-storeyed house which then covered the site of Commercial Place was converted into a warehousing depôt; a capital house opposite the 'Saracen's Head' was taken by a hosier of the name of Theobald, who, opening his shop with the determination of selling the best hosiery, and nothing else, was able to convince the citizens that his hose was first-rate, and, desiring only a living profit, succeeded, after thirty years of unwearied industry, in accumulating a large fortune. Theobald was possessed of literary tastes, and at the sale of Sir Walter Scott's manuscripts was a liberal purchaser. He also collected a library of exceedingly choice books, and when aristocratic customers purchased stockings of him, was soon able to interest them in matters of far higher interest…
"The most remarkable shop—but it was on the left-hand side, at a corner house—was that established for the sale of children's books. It boasted an immense extent of window-front, extending from the entrance into Snow Hill, and towards Fleet Market. Many a time have I lingered with loving eyes over those fascinating story-books, so rich in gaily-coloured prints; such careful editions of the marvellous old histories, 'Puss in Boots,' 'Cock Robin,' 'Cinderella,' and the like. Fortunately the front was kept low, so as exactly to suit the capacity of a childish admirer. . . . . But Skinner Street did not prosper much, and never could compete with even the dullest portions of Holborn. I have spoken of some reputable shops; but you know the proverb, 'One swallow will not make a summer,' and it was a declining neighbourhood almost before it could be called new. In 1810 the commercial depôt, which had been erected at a cost of £25,000, and was the chief prize in the lottery, was destroyed by fire, never to be rebuilt—a heavy blow and discouragement to Skinner Street, from which it never rallied. Perhaps the periodical hanging-days exercised an unfavourable influence, collecting, as they frequently did, all the thieves and vagabonds of London. I never sympathised with Pepys or Charles Fox in their passion for public executions, and made it a point to avoid those ghastly sights; but early of a Monday morning, when I had just reached the end of Giltspur Street, a miserable wretch had just been turned off from the platform of the debtors' door, and I was made the unwilling witness of his last struggles. That scene haunted me for months, and I often used to ask myself, 'Who that could help it would live in Skinner Street?' The next unpropitious event in these parts was the unexpected closing of the child's library. What could it mean? Such a well-to-do establishment shut up? Yes, the whole army of shutters looked blankly on the inquirer, and forbade even a single glance at 'Sinbad' or 'Robinson Crusoe.' It would soon be re-opened, we naturally thought; but the shutters never came down again. The whole house was deserted; not even a messenger in bankruptcy, or an ancient Charley, was found to regard the playful double knocks of the neighbouring juveniles. Gradually the glass of all the windows got broken in, a heavy cloud of black dust, solidifying into inches thick, gathered on sills and doors and brickwork, till the whole frontage grew as gloomy as Giant Despair's Castle. Not long after, the adjoining houses shared the same fate, and they remained from year to year without the slightest sign of life—absolute scarecrows, darkening with their uncomfortable shadows the busy streets. Within half a mile, in Stamford Street, Blackfriars, there are (1863) seven houses in a similar predicament— window-glass demolished, doors cracked from top to bottom, spiders' webs hanging from every projecting sill or parapet. What can it mean? The loss in the article of rents alone must be over £1,000 annually. If the real owners are at feud with imaginary owners, surely the property might be rendered valuable, and the proceeds invested. Even the lawyers can derive no profit from such hopeless abandonment. I am told the whole mischief arose out of a Chancery suit. Can it be the famous 'Jarndyce v. Jarndyce' case? And have all the heirs starved each other out? If so, what hinders our lady the Queen from taking possession? Any change would be an improvement, for these dead houses make the streets they cumber as dispiriting and comfortless as graveyards. Busy fancy will sometimes people them, and fill the dreary rooms with strange guests. Do the victims of guilt congregate in these dark dens? Do wretches 'unfriended by the world or the world's law,' seek refuge in these deserted nooks, mourning in the silence of despair over their former lives, and anticipating the future in unappeasable agony? Such things have been—the silence and desolation of these doomed dwellings make them the more suitable for such tenants."
A street is nothing without a mystery, so a mystery let these old tumble-down houses remain, whilst we go on to tell that, in front of No. 58, the sailor Cashman was hung in 1817, as we have already mentioned, for plundering a gunsmith's shop there. William Godwin, the author of "Caleb Williams," kept a bookseller's shop for several years in Skinner Street, at No. 41, and published school-books in the name of Edward Baldwin. On the wall there was a stone carving of Æsop reciting one of his fables to children.
The most noteworthy event of the life of Godwin was his marriage with the celebrated Mary Wollstonecraft, authoress of a "Vindication of the Rights of Women," whose congenial mind, in politics and morals, he ardently admired. Godwin's account of the way in which they got on together is worth reading:—"Ours," he writes, "was not an idle happiness, a paradise of selfish and transitory pleasures. It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary to mention, that influenced by ideas I had long entertained, I engaged an apartment about twenty doors from our house, in the Polygon, Somers Town, which I designed for the purpose of my study and literary occupations. Trifles, however, will be interesting to some readers, when they relate to the last period of the life of such a person as Mary. I will add, therefore, that we were both of us of opinion, that it was possible for two persons to be too uniformly in each other's society. Influenced by that opinion, it was my practice to repair to the apartment I have mentioned as soon as I rose, and frequently not to make my appearance in the Polygon till the hour of dinner. We agreed in condemning the notion, prevalent in many situations in life, that a man and his wife cannot visit in mixed society but in company with each other, and we rather sought occasions of deviating from than of complying with this rule. By this means, though, for the most part, we spent the latter half of each day in one another's society, yet we were in no danger of satiety. We seemed to combine, in a considerable degree, the novelty and lively sensation of a visit with the more delicious and heartfelt pleasure of a domestic life."
This philosophic union, to Godwin's inexpressible affliction, did not last more than eighteen months, at the end of which time Mrs. Godwin died, leaving an only daughter, who in the course of time became the second wife of the poet Shelley, and was the author of the wild and extraordinary tale of "Frankenstein."
AF-S Nikkor 300mm f/4E PF VR on Nikon 1 J5 using FT1 adaptor. 60 frame focus stack shot as JPEG Basic Small with Nikon Z6 and AF-S Nikkor 20mm f/1.8G.
Another photo of the Bodie Lighthouse (prounounced BODY) along the Outer Banks, North Carolina. Still more views are coming. Can't quite explain why I'm enamored with lighthouses, but this one certainly is an interesting one. A while back they completed repairs and it's now possible to climb the stair case to get a view. Haven't done that yet, but if you'd like to spend a week hunting for iconic photos on North Carolina's Outer Banks we've got just the opportunity for you! You'll be well fed and get to try your hand at day, night, and wildlife photography. starcircleacademy.com/workshops/outerbanks
For a prior photo of this lighthouse see here
I made a little embroidered shrine based on a wooden one I bought from a charity shop a while ago. I subverted it into Jesus appearing as me (sort of), with the Blessed Virgin Mary/ my mother as John Fowler, a college tutor who has 'mothered' me a lot this year, creatively, and then I put God as Kurt Vonnegut, the honorary president of the American Humanist society.
Just wanted to add a little note saying it's not meant to offend, or suggest that I believe I am the son (daughter) of God... It's just me trying to make sense of what I believe using appopriate visual stimuli that explains to others what's going on in this funny head of mine.
Busy, busy, busy! That explains my week. This is the cake that I made for the wedding I was also photographing yesterday... my cupcake partner and I were suppose to be making the cupcakes too but the bride was over budget so backed out about 10 days before the wedding. C'est la vie. I guess. The groom said it was "f*cking incredible" and the bride said it was perfect and amazing. Her aunt made about 100 (free) chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese frosting that went around it (The bride and groom both confirmed that there was no comparison that mine was way better - it's true btw confirmed by several people lol)
Woman I can hardly express
My mixed emotions at my thoughtlessness
After all I'm forever in your debt
And woman I will try to express
My inner feelings and thankfulness
For showing me the meaning of success
Ooh, well, well
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Ooh, well, well
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Woman I know you understand
The little child inside of the man
Please remember my life is in your hands
And woman hold me close to your heart
However distant don't keep us apart
After all it is written in the stars
Woman please let me explain
I never meant to cause you sorrow or pain
So let me tell you again and again and again
I love you, yeah, yeah
Now and forever
I love you, yeah, yeah
Now and forever
I love you, yeah, yeah
Now and forever ~
by John Lenon
EXPLORE 10-28-08 # 280 Thanks~
The wonder of the wireless transmitter explained by Leslie Ashwell Wood, the dependable master of the cutaway drawing, January 28, 1939.
Graphics for a new post breaking down what the Pantone Matching system is. Check it out here: cliqunited.com/pms-the-design-color-standard-explained/
Character Creation
Illyana Nikolaievna Rasputina (Russian: Ильяна Николаевна Распутина) is a character appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. Created by writer Len Wein and artist Dave Cockrum, the character first appeared in the Giant-Size X-Men #1 (May 1975). llyana Rasputin is a member of a fictional species of humanity known as mutants, who are born with superhuman abilities. She is known under the codename Magik.
llyana Rasputin is the younger sister of the Russian X-Men member Colossus and X-Men enemy Mikhail Rasputin. She became a powerful sorceress due to her time imprisoned in (and later ruling) Limbo. Her mutant power, which first manifested in that Limbo, is the ability to teleport via stepping discs utilizing that dimension's magic. Following her escape from Limbo, she became part of the New Mutants. She later joined the X-Men.
The character has been featured in various Marvel-licensed products, including video games, animated television series, and merchandise. Anya Taylor-Joy portrayed Illyana Rasputin in the 2020 film The New Mutants.
Publication history
llyana Rasputin debuted in Giant-Size X-Men #1 (May 1975), created by Len Wein and Dave Cockrum. Her first name was not revealed until The Uncanny X-Men #145 (May 1981). For the first eight years of the character's existence, she was an infrequently appearing background character known as Colossus' little sister. The means of changing this was set in The Uncanny X-Men #160 (August 1982), in which she ages seven years while in a paranormal dimension called Limbo, becomes a sorceress, and develops the mutant ability to create "teleportation discs." These changes were not immediately explored or explained, and for the next year she remained essentially a background character.
In December 1983, the limited series Magik (Illyana and Storm) was launched, chronicling Illyana's years in Limbo, which is also her origin story. Magik #1 (December 1983) is her first cover appearance as young Illyana, her second full appearance and the first time she get the name Magik. Magik #2 (Jan. 1984) is her first cover appearance as adult Magik. Immediately following the end of the series, she was added to the cast of the New Mutants, appearing regularly in that comic from The New Mutants #14 (April 1984), the first cover appearance of adult Magik in costume, to The New Mutants #77 (July 1989), in which she returns to her family in Russia after having reverted to childhood. As the younger sister of Colossus and a member of the New Mutants, she also sporadically appeared as a guest star in Uncanny X-Men.
In The Uncanny X-Men #303 (1993), she dies of the Legacy Virus. Other than flashbacks and alternate realities, she was absent from regular publication for most of the 1990s, though she does appear as a time-traveler in The New Mutants: Truth or Death #1-3 (1997). After being resurrected by Belasco, she returned to regular publication in 2007, in New X-Men #38-41 (2007), X-Infernus #1-4 (2009), X-Men: Hellbound #1-3 (2010) and New Mutants vol. 3 #1-29 (2009-2011). As a member of Cyclops' Extinction Team, she appears in The Uncanny X-Men vol. 2 #1-20 (2012), Avengers vs. X-Men #1-12 (2012), AVX: Versus #3 (2012), and AVX: Consequences #1-5 (2012). She appears in All-New X-Men, The Uncanny X-Men vol. 3, Extraordinary X-Men, and The New Mutants: Dead Souls (2018), as a regular character. She appears in Strange Academy #1 (2020) as a teacher in Dr. Strange's Sorcerer School.
Origin
To simply be a mutant didn't quite make you as different as it once would have. What made someone different was the type of mutant that they were. Specifically, their power level that would show their potential or ability as a mutant. The Rasputin children, Mikhail, Piotr, and Illyana, were all mutants. Each of them would have gifts that would/could affect many, even on a global level. Their futures would see them all go very different ways; their genetics ensured whichever way they chose to go, huge repercussions could be expected. These three mutant siblings would be no exception. From Mikhail's ability to manipulate matter on the subatomic level and his dimensional teleporting powers to Illyana's immensely powerful magical might and teleporting powers and even Piotr, who seemingly appears much weaker in comparison, but is prophesied to be the sole individual responsible for the destruction of an entire planet, Breakworld, and all of its inhabitants.
On the outward appearance it may seem that it must be purely coincidental that Illyana and her two older brothers, Mikhail and Piotr (Colossus), would all have massively powerful mutant powers and all be born to one family. But, not all is as it seems. These three siblings were born to a family that had been manipulated to ensure these outcomes. A bloodline refined to create power. Not only just Illyana, Mikhail and Piotr would have these substantial gifts, but all children born within the Rasputin bloodline would. Each would have the same genetics, share the same bloodline and lineage, each with the possibility to wield powerful mutant gifts. This was not a coincidence at all. This is all due to the manipulation, on a grand scale, by one of the foremost masters in genetics by the name of Nathaniel Essex, better known as Mr. Sinister.
Character Evolution
Illyana Nikolievna Rasputin, the indomitable mutant known as Magik, is a super-humanly powerful mutant with the power of teleportation, as well as being an unbelievably powerful and gifted sorceress. She has a potential that has yet to be reached. In her short life, she has seen and been through many things. From the experience of being kidnapped at a very young age by the evil Belasco, to life in a "Hell" dimension named Limbo for 7 years. Her gifts were exploited, and her soul was corrupted by black magic, turning a portion of it evil. After becoming the first victim to die of the Legacy Virus, she was eventually resurrected by her former master several years later. She is currently a member of the New Mutants. During the events of Avengers vs X-men, she has tasted even greater power; that of the Phoenix Force.
Major Story Arcs
Before Her Time...
More than 100 years ago, the patriarch of the Rasputin bloodline, the legendary Grigory Rasputin, would be the first to meet Sinister. The two would make unlikely allies. After their encounter, the Rasputin family would never be the same. When Grigory was younger, around the time of the emergence of his own mutant powers, Sinister would give him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Sinister or the "Pale Man" as Grigory referred to him as, would offer Grigory the chance to create a bloodline from his DNA that would lead a race of super humans. Grigory's importance to Sinister was quite simple. He was a mutant, and based on the time one of the few firsts. Not only was he a mutant, but a powerful one. Grigory was aware of his gifts or the "miraculous occurrences" that surrounded him. He enjoyed them and used them regularly. Though unrevealed, it’s assumed that Grigory may have had matter manipulating abilities. These powers seemed similar to that of his future descendant, Mikhail. Powerful or not, Sinister's offer appealed to him and he accepted promptly after. Sinister would go to work immediately.
He would seek out females similar to Grigory, mutants with special powers. Sinister would find around 15-20 women and impregnate them all by crossing their genes with that of Grigory's. Sinister would experiment on the unborn babies, with many dying in the process. There was one woman though that was a prefect match for Grigory, a woman by the name of Elena. Once Sinister found that the two could produce the outcome that he wished for he would put introduce the two. Shortly after meeting, two would marry each other. Elena would be his soon-to-be wife and bearer of his future army of super powered children. This would culminate with Grigory taking part in a mystical ceremony, led by Sinister, transferring his essence into his pregnant wife’s womb. His last words were that he promised to return to the world when the world was ready for him. With Elena giving birth to her baby months later, it would be the beginning of the powerful mutant bloodline that would lead to the eventual birth of one Illyana Nikolievna Rasputin.
Innocent Beginnings
Nikolai Rasputin and Alexandra Rasputin had three children, two boys, named Mikhail and Piotr and, their youngest, a girl named Illyana. Mikhail was already an adult when Illyana was born. He wanted more than a farmer's life and decided to become a cosmonaut working for the Russian government. As a result Illyana would never have the opportunity to meet her eldest brother and unfortunately never would as reports would come indicating that Mikhail had died while in duty. The reality was that his mutant powers manifested and the government decided to use him as a guinea pig. They wanted to see if they could find a way to harness his gift. Basically they were exploiting him, with no intention of releasing him. Illyana's family grieved, but she was relatively unaffected partially due to her age and she really didn't know him. Beyond that she had a fairly normal early childhood. She had a close-knit family, more love then she could ever know and a bond between her brother and her that death couldn't break, literally. The Rasputins would thrive and continue to live their lives as best they could. They managed to achieve a little normalcy in their lives right when another mutant would make their self known.
Professor X & the X-Men
Mikhail wouldn't be the only of his sibling to have mutant powers. Piotr would also have his powers emerge. Though he would attempt to keep his mutant gifts hidden, he would be forced to reveal them in a much unexpected way. Illyana was playing alone when an unmanned tractor came barreling in her direction. No one was near or had the ability to help her, save Piotr. He reacted instinctively, running to her aid and unconsciously activating his mutant powers. In a bright flash of light his entire body turned into that of a silver, shiny, armored giant. Standing in the way of the tractor, it would hit him and go no further as it would be destroyed upon impact. Like a knight in shinning armor, he was able to save his "Little Snowflake," as he referred to her. Relieved that he was able to protect his sister, he never noticed that a visitor had arrived and had watched the entire event unfold.
A man that would change not only Piotr's life, but that of his little sister, Illyana's as well. This man was Professor Charles Xavier and he had arrived wanting to speak with Piotr, hoping to recruit him as one of his new X-Men. After much conversation Piotr would accept and begrudgingly leave his family to start a new one in the United States. While a member of the team he took the codename Colossus and became one of the vaunted X-Men. As a member of the X-Men he would save the world many times over. But for Piotr it was a rough transition. He missed his family. He often suffered from homesickness, and as such he tended to stay alone and withdrawn. While on missions he often hid his feelings. Hiding them as he might, nothing could prepare him for the following events.
Abduction
The X-Men would do battle with many a foe, but one of the oddest was the eccentric, murderous Arcade. An assassin for hire and creator of Murderworld he was one of the best at what he did, but would bite off too much when Doctor Doom was involved. Arcade became involved in dealings that went bad with Doctor Doom. As a result he was held captive with no means of freedom. An associate of Arcade's, Miss Locke, would devise a plan that would have the X-Men do all the hard work and free Arcade for her. Of course they would never do this willingly, she would have to force them somehow. Miss Locke decided that she would blackmail them by kidnapping numerous members of each of the X-Men's family, this would include Piotr's little sister Illyana, and force them to assist.
And they did. The X-Men sent in two units, sending the larger of their forces in to get Arcade and the few remaining to free their captive loved ones. The X-Men would find themselves to be successful and would return home. Colossus though would make a decision that would change his little sister's life permanently.
He decided that Illyana should stay with them and not return to Russia. He felt that it would be safer for her as he and the X-Men could protect her better, so that another incident like her being abducted could never happen again. Professor X agreed with the decision. He even telepathically taught all of his X-Men how to speak the Russian language so that Illyana would feel more comfortable in her new environment. He, too, wanted to test Illyana to see if she had the mutant gene, like her brothers feeling that there was a strong chance that she would be one. A discussion would follow but it would be decided to not test her. Feeling that she had many more years before her potential mutant powers would emerge based on her age. Illyana's stay would be granted by a special student visa. She would attend tutored classes by Professor X while at the X-mansion.
While there she brought a happiness to Colossus, one that he hadn't felt in a long time since he left his home long ago. Illyana would get close to all the X-Men, but especially Kitty Pryde. Kitty would read her bedtime stories and interact with her a lot. This would be the start of a bond that would only grow over time.
Abducted by Balasco
Illyana stayed with the X-Men all the time, save when they embarked on missions. This included when they were in need of a new temporary headquarters. Due to a recent battle it had sustained major damage and Xavier's Institute had been destroyed. The X-Men with no other choice would be forced to take up base elsewhere. They would find and inhabit an island that Magneto once used as a base. It was a strange alien city on an island in the Bermuda Triangle. Coming to this island would be the event that would lead to Illyana's destiny and future self.
Illyana was a child, only 7 years old, when the X-Men came to the island. Having been on the island for only a couple of days the X-Men had managed to settle themselves in; though they were still held doubts over their new location. Storm, the field leader, deciding they needed to release some stress, had the X-Men participate in a training exercise while Illyana would play alone a short distance away so as to not get hurt.
However, when no one was paying attention, the young Illyana began to walk away as if she was being guided. Unable to control herself she would continue on until she reached a temple, which she entered without hesitation. Of all the other X-men it was only Kitty who had noticed her missing, and began to follow with the X-Men not too far behind. Illyana would reach her destination in the back of the dimly lit tunnel inside of the dilapidated temple. She stood in the middle of a circular shape with glowing yellow and white lights and disappeared. The X-Men would follow and also get teleported to another dimension, one of the many splintered realms of Hell. This one was called Limbo.
Limbo
As soon as Illyana arrived she was whisked away to the side of Belasco. He tempted her with many wonderful things, including a glorious future. All the while the X-Men made their way to Limbo as well. Through a string of events they were informed, by a second set of X-Men, that they had to leave in order for their Illyana to survive. The second set of X-Men, those stuck in Limbo, attempting to rescue their Illyana, were successful but they themselves found themselves unable to return; they too were stuck in Limbo. Immediately after, the X-Men were spirited away back to Earth and Illyana was left to fend for herself. Meanwhile, back with Illyana, Belasco had brought her to an altar and began a spell to withdraw the first of 5 pieces of Illyana's soul.
Effectively taking the first piece of her soul, it was transformed into a "Bloodstone" and he placed it into what he called the Beatrice Amulet. The Amulet once opened had a 5-pointed star with open holes. The first Bloodstone filled the spot of one of those points. Belasco's intentions for Illyana was to slowly take all 5 portions of her soul and turn them into bloodstones to complete the Beatrice Medallion. He needed time to further corrupt her soul, all the while step by step consecrating her to evil and making her the instrument of Belasco's masters the Elder Gods. He would also use her to free him from Limbo and allow him to roam Earth once again, where he would take over and rule supreme. He would leave immediately after the Bloodstone was removed and allowed time to take place.
Girl Interrupted
Still on the altar, Illyana would be saved and taken in by an older alternate Storm and an alternate version of Kitty Pryde, now calling herself Cat. Both were very different; Cat actually had been transformed in to a cat/human hybrid by Belasco and as a result hated magic. Differing from her mainstream counterpart, winds no longer listened to the elderly Storm, so she could not control the weather anymore and instead she focused purely on magic. Ororo attempted to break Illyana free of the link she had with Belasco immediately after saving her. After a trip to the astral plane, she finds that a part of Illyana was now and forever belonging to the side of evil, specifically to Belasco. When in Illyana's mind, the "evil" part of Illyana would attack and try to kill the elderly Ororo, but Ororo luckily would survive. Once back Ororo devised a plan to help the young Illyana. Wanting to equip Illyana for her future, Ororo decided to teach Illyana all the white magic she knew by making Illyana her magical apprentice.
The goal was to teach Illyana so that she would be enabled to keep her dark side at bay with white magic. All of her lessons would take place in Ororo's magic garden, from there they would proceed to administer the classes on the astral plane. Illyana was trained and became quite adept at white magic, tapping into her ancestral magical lineage. Storm felt it necessary to teach Illyana so that she was prepared for her next confrontation with Belasco. What Illyana didn't know, was that Belasco had once attempted to use both Storm and Cat to draw bloodstones from but was unsuccessful. Storm knowing this would only further her want to protect the young child. Cat disagreed partially because she despised magic, but also because she felt that Storm would be doing Belasco’s dirty work for him. She felt that Storm was making a huge mistake. Regardless, Storm began teaching Illyana white magic. While there she taught Illyana about life, white magic and the creation of life itself.
Their Illyana stayed for an entire year and learned everything that Storm could teach. Illyana learned fast but was quite angered by the fact that, try as she might, each and every spell she would cast would always be tainted by darkness. Where Ororo would magically have the ability to create life such as plants (or her entire garden), Illyana's attempts always seemed to fail. Though her spells were done properly and she had the magical aptitude to make them work, they would always turn out in a negative way.
Once the year was complete, in the middle of the night Cat would wake Illyana up and convince her to come with her leaving Ororo's garden. Cat was attempting to return Illyana to her home. During that night Illyana and Cat would get into a heated argument and during this time, Illyana's mutant powers first manifested. She accidentally created a stepping disc and fell through it. When she arrived she was still in Limbo, but here is when she first meets her future servant and enemy, S'ym. He taunts her and begins to attack her. She luckily is saved by Cat and together they escape from S'ym. While seeking a way to send Illyana home they came upon a desert and were informed that at the end of the desert would be the wall of Limbo.
Where if Cat used her phasing powers she could take Illyana through and free her from Limbo. Their trek through the desert would take two long years. Through that time Cat would teach Illyana how to fight, use a sword and survival skills. At the end of the 2 years they would finally reach their destination only to find that they were misled by one of Belasco's illusions. Belasco would first transform Cat even further into a cat-like being and took the young Illyana with him as his pupil. It would be during this time that Belasco would create his second Bloodstone out of Illyana's soul, effectively tainting the essence of the child even further making her even more evil. Illyana followed Belasco to his palace, worried but accepting her situation. She fully understood that Cat would no longer be able to provide help to her. Belasco's spell halted Cat's ability to think for herself and she was now bound to Belasco doing his every bidding. In the 3 years that followed, Belasco made Illyana his pupil, teaching her all that he knew.
Illyana learned the darkest of dark magic and the blackest of black magics. She took to it quite quickly, and unlike the spells that Ororo taught her, Illyana could produce all the black spells with ease, without error. She realized that the reason why she was unable to produce spells that created life was because her soul was permanently tainted with darkness. She would never produce white magic spells without them going awry. One day, while Illyana was brainstorming a way to get out of Limbo, she inadvertently activated her latent mutant powers of teleportation. Now a few years old, she had so much control learned from her magic teachings that she was able to practice her mutants powers without being afraid of them.
She began creating stepping discs and decided to walk through one to see where she would go. Her stepping disc took her to the future, unknown to her. Here she witnessed the arrival of her future teammates the New Mutants. Although at this point she had no clue who they were. The New Mutants were teleported to that very spot by a future Illyana. Seeing all she wanted to she, she created yet another stepping disc and teleported herself away. The disc this time sent her to the past. Here she witnessed a battle that took place many years ago in Limbo. The fight was between Belasco and a very young magician Storm.
Illyana watched as Storm was able to successfully defeat Belasco. As Storm was to make her killing stroke, she was taken over by darkness. In attempting to kill Belasco, Storm tainted her own soul, changing her. Scarred by what she saw, Illyana opened yet another disc and teleported to the current time. As she arrives, she sees yet another battle. The opponents were the same, but now Storm was very aged. The elderly Storm had attacked Belasco's palace in an attempt to free Illyana. Illyana immediately ran to Storm's aid but was cut off by the demonic Cat. They battled for a few short minutes but Illyana could tell that Cat was simply trying to hold Illyana back from helping Storm. Angered by this, Illyana lunged at Cat and snapped her neck, killing her immediately. When she finally gets to Storm she realizes that Storm too had fought against Cat and was dealt a mortal wound.
The elderly Storm was dying. Realizing it was all a trap, Illyana tried to take Storm when she found out that Belasco planned to used Storm's soul and life essence to create a 3rd Bloodstone. Not wanting to help Belasco get any closer to his goal she mercy-kills Storm, putting a halt to Belasco's plan. Belasco sees what Illyana has done and became enraged, but put plan B into play. Instead of using Storm for the 3rd Bloodstone, he would use Illyana to create it. She immediately teleports away using her mutant powers and reappears in Russia on the farm she grew up on directly in front of the house of her parents.
Overcome with happiness when she realized that she could use her power to leave Limbo, she ran to her parents' door and knocked. Her happiness would soon end when she sees her parents and tells them who she was. They, of course, did not recognize her and turned her away, under the assumption that their daughter was safe with their son Colossus in America and was a 6 year old little girl. Giving up she turned around and saw the corpses of the Limbo X-Men animated their to take her back to Limbo. When she gets back to Limbo, Belasco would quickly draw a 3rd Bloodstone from Illyana, even further tainting her soul and making it more demonic, and would exile her to the garden that the elderly Ororo taught her in many years ago. He would bind her powers disabling her use of her magics and mutant powers. Timing could not have been worse as it was the beginning of a harsh winter one that Illyana, likely, would not survive.
While in the garden Illyana used the skills taught to her by the now deceased Cat, managing to thrive in the unbearable cold. She also continued to practice the magic that the elderly Ororo taught her, attempting to find a way to free herself of the garden. Time and time again she was unable to produce magic that allowed creation, always coming out tainted as her soul was. She then had an epiphany; she was not able to produce magic like Ororo because they had differing motives. Ororo was attempting to help Illyana, Illyana's motive was quite simply revenge. She reconfigured the spell and used a small portion of her untainted, pure soul and a bright light grew directly in front of her. When she reached in she pulled out her Soulsword. Shortly after, she headed to Belasco and with the use of her newly created weapon, she battled and defeated Belasco. Just prior to her killing stroke she stopped, not wanting to become any more dark, any more like Belasco. She then exiled him from Limbo.
Due to this defeat, Illyana was now the unquestioned ruler of Limbo. And due to the 6 years of teaching she received while there, she had the ability to fight for her title if need be. Finally gaining confidence she would create a "stepping disc" and would return herself to home. When she arrived it would only be seconds from when they originally lost the younger Illyana. After a small conversation they believed her and took her to Professor X for further examination. He found that he was unable to probe her very much but did see, for the most part, that what she claims happened, did.
She would stay at the mansion with the rest of the X-Men uneventfully for a short while. She would be roomed with Kitty Pryde. They became quick friends and would lay the foundation for a relationship as best friends that would be unending. But even to Kitty she revealed nothing. She made sure not to tell anyone of her magical or mutant powers, wanting to keep them a secret. Illyana was attempting to try and cope with all the events and changes she went through while in Limbo. Try as she might, Illyana could not hide forever and her secrets would be revealed.....well one of them at least.
An unexpected arrival of Belasco would force her to use her mutant powers to teleport the New Mutants (mutant students who attend the Xavier Institute) to Limbo for their safety. Coincidentally, this would be what she saw when she was stuck in Limbo many years ago. When all was said and done the New Mutants were returned to Earth unharmed. Illyana would use a forgetting spell ensuring the New Mutants would not remember any of what occurred except for the fact that Illyana was a mutant. Once Professor X was informed of Illyana's mutant nature, she would be granted to ability to study with and join the New Mutants, which she gladly did.
Enter the New Mutants
While apart of the New Mutants, Illyana would finally allow herself to let her guard down....a little. In a short time she became a powerful and valued member of the team. Although they knew she was a mutant, she still guarded her magical side intensely. Due to the barriers she kept up she sometimes felt misunderstood and alone but the others truly cared for her. As a team, the New Mutants would go through more than their fair share of battles. Though they had many successes, they too had many great loses. First Professor X stepped down and left the school in the hand of the villainous Magneto. Magik and the New Mutants were none too happy about this change. Amidst the ups and downs of life Illyana finally revealed her magical side to her teammates, receiving mixed reviews. Shortly after that they would suffer yet another lose, this time the death of teammate Douglas Ramsey (Cypher).
As if that wasn't enough, the New Mutants all would then have their lives snuffed out by the Beyonder during the Secret Wars. He made it as if they never existed. The Beyonder was bent on the idea of humanity and the attempt to gain one. He would have a machine created that if working properly give one life or bring one back to life. Needing guinea pigs he would test it on the recently departed members of the New Mutants. Though they were alive again, the experiences of their deaths and resurrections was far too traumatic for them. They were all severely mentally affected by their experiences. Magik and the New Mutants were mere husks of their former selves and showed no human emotions. Once they returned to the Institute, Magneto would decide to send his students to Emma Frost, the White Queen of the Hellfire Club and leader of the Hellions. Emma was to use her vast telepathic powers to help repair the already damaged psyches of each of the New Mutants.
While under the care of Emma Frost, the New Mutants enrolled at her school and were recruited into her team of Hellions. This was her true plan all along. To her surprise, though, once Magik and the New Mutants were healed they would returnimmediately to the Xavier Institute.
The Inferno
During a standard trip through Limbo, something went wrong and the New Mutants were stuck. Illyana's evil and demonic side started to take over her body. The demons there wanted her to become the full lord of Limbo. When she tried to escape, the demon N'astirh used this as a way to open a huge teleportation disc between Earth and Limbo, which started an invasion of Earth by the demons of Limbo. Magik then managed to defeat the powerful demon S'ym . After the battle the New Mutants examined the remains of Magik's armor and found the seven-year old Illyana inside it. However, she still possessed the bloodstone amulet. The 7 year old Illyana was then brought home and returned to Russia where she lived with her parents until they were murdered by the Russian government in order to make sure Illyana had her abilities to defeat a powerful psionic being, which posed a threat to Russia. After this, Illyana returned to the X-Mansion.
Death
Illyana was brought back to America and the X-mansion. However, shortly afterward, Illyana caught the Legacy Virus, a deadly and incurable disease that only affected mutants. At this time, the young X-woman Jubilee and Illyana made a special friendship. Although she was a fighter, and her brother was at her side almost always, Illyana succumbed to the virus a few weeks later and died in the X-Mansion. This happened at a time during which her brother was on a mission with the X-Men, something he would never forgive himself for. She was buried at the Xavier Institute and was mourned by everybody, especially by her brother and good friend Kitty Pryde. Her spirit would later go on to visit Wolverine and her brother, Piotr.
Magik Returns
During the House of M storyline, the Scarlet Witch used her reality-warping abilities to recreate the world as we knew it, transforming it into way she wished it was. Illyana came back to life and joined many of the new X-Men as students at S.H.I.E.L.D. She was placed in the Hellions training squad and, during their last mission, was told to take a group of mutated humans somewhere safe. She teleported just as chaos took over, and the House of M came to an end reverting back to the way it was before. In a world where Illyana was no longer alive. No one remembers ever meeting Magik because none of them remembered the House of M. Later, the evil Belasco came looking for Magik, as he sensed her presence that was left behind during the House of M, and used his powers to take most of the students at the school prisoner. He smelled Magik on them but none of them remembered meeting her. All clues began to point to Magik being alive.
A group of free students on the run in Limbo ran into a version of Illyana in her Darkchild self. She revealed that she was recreated by Belasco, but in body and mind only. Her soul resided in her Soulsword, and that had been lost. She sought to create a new soulsword, and five new bloodstones of power, from the pure soul of Pixie. The process was only partially successful, resulting in only one bloodstone being created. Pixie ended up with a soul dagger instead of a soul sword. Illyana then taught Pixie a teleportation spell, which allowed the students to reach Belasco's castle which lead to their confrontation with Belasco. In the ensuing fight, Pixie stabbed Belasco with the dagger, allowing Illyana to use the bloodstone's power to presumably destroy Belasco. With Belasco defeated, she once again became queen of Limbo. Despite an emotional reunion with her brother, Piotr, she banished the X-Men from Limbo and sealed it off, not content to rest until she recovered her soul and became whole once again.
Divided We Stand
llyana wants her soul back, thinking back to the ones she once loved, like Kitty and Piotr she tries to reclaim her soul through these connections and teleports to the Xavier Institute only to find it destroyed and abandoned after the events of Messiah Complex. Angrily she decides that she will not get her soul back through love but through hate and suffering and she will target those who have wronged her and make them pay with their souls.
Infernus
Infernus is the Quest for Illyana to regain her soul and to later rejoin the X-Men. The story begins with Illyana in Limbo searching for the Beatrice Amulet. Flustered that she can't find it, she sends hordes of Limbo Demons to search the earth and find it. Meanwhile, the X-Men are back in their danger room and Pixie goes crazy and stabs Nightcrawler. After she stabs him with her Souldagger, she pulls the weapon from his body cavity and out comes Illyana's Soulsword with it. Nightcrawler is unharmed by the Souldagger, and the Soulsword that his ex girlfriend Amanda Sefton (another ruler of Limbo), locked inside of him for safe keeping. Instantly back in Limbo, Illyana feels her Soulsword emerge and teleports to the Danger Room to reclaim what is rightfully hers.
Everyone is shocked to see Illyana again, as most believed her to be dead. Illyana demands her sword, promising that no one will be hurt if they just hand it over to her. The X-Men refuse and one by one are struck down by Illyana. First Rockslide, then Mercury, followed by Beast. Then Pixie comes along and starts a fight against Illyana but loses, so Illyana takes her Soulsword back and she changes, becoming more human but still incomplete so she runs away to Limbo again only to find out that Witchfire, Belasco's daughter is there and wants her head. The X-men go to Limbo after her and encounter demons but Pixie feels her soul and goes to the castle. The mutants go after her only to be taking down by Witchfire who has Illyana in chains and starts to take another piece of Pixie's soul. Nightcrawler stabs Illyana with the Souldagger and pull out the Soulsword. He calls Pixie and tells her that she is the only one that can save them all. She frees Illyana and together they banish Witchfire but she took along Illyana's and Pixie's soul, that make the young X-Men fly away. Illyana takes everybody back to the Danger Room and there Illyana decides to stay with them.
Back to the New Mutants
After another brief disappearance, Illyana reappears at the X-Men's new San Francisco home, exhausted and injured. Disoriented and sounding more than a little insane than usual, she gets fellow New Mutants Cannonball, Sunspot and Magma to help her find Dani and Shan, who she says will die soon if aid doesn't come quickly. She goes with her old friends to Colorado, where Dani and Shan had gone earlier based on reports that a young mutant there might have been endangering the local populace. On the way there, she plays mind games with Amara, teasing her that she can cure Empath of the injury caused by Pixie's Souldagger. Once there, she splits up with Amara to track down a missing little girl, empathizing acutely with her as she was also kidnapped in her youth.
Tracking her down to a certain home, Illyana and Amara think they've found Shan being held prisoner. But when they open the small cell, they instead find a grinning Legion waiting inside. Conferring with Sam and Bobby, who had found Shan's body in another location, they find out that Shan is inside Legion's mind with a benign little girl personality, but are being chased by the more violent personalities in David Haller's mindscape. When Shan and the little girl are overwhelmed, the violent persona take over. One with superhuman strength punches Amara away, and another one uses an energy blast to down Illyana. The mutant sorceress quickly recovers, and tells Sam and Bobby to find Dani. As one of the beings who previously tried to "fix" David Haller's mind, Dani has become one of Legion's intended targets.
Meanwhile, Sam and Bobby find Dani imprisoned in a local jail, about to be attacked by Legion. Bobby knocks Legion away from Dani's cell before she can be harmed, but Sam leaves her inside, thinking that she will be safer. Sam realizes his mistake when Legion uses another of his powers to manipulate the earth in Dani's cell in a second attempt to kill her. That attempt is stopped when Magik and Magma arrive. Magma melts the earth golem Legion created, preventing Dani from being strangled. Furious at Sam, Dani punches him, then leaves to arm herself in order to be useful when they bring the fight back to the insane mutant.
Determined to put an end to the threat and save Shan, Illyana teleports to Shan's body and touches it, initiating a transfer of her mind into Legion's. Once there, Illyana shows that she means business by threatening harm if they didn't release Shan to her immediately. When she is accused of bluffing, Illyana manifests her soul sword and, ignoring Sam's plea not to harm any of Legion's personalities, proceeds to cleave and decapitate three of Legion's personas in short order. When a fourth persona attempts to stop Illyana and fails, the remaining personalities acquiesce and lead her to where they're holding Shan and the little girl prisoner. Illyana frees them both, and in the process also frees David Haller's base personality. Guided by David, Illyana discovers that the doll, named "Moira," is the basis for conscious control of Legion's body. Illyana takes the doll away from the remaining hostile personalities just in time to save Dani and the others.
Second Coming and Hellbound
When Cable returns to the present timeline with Hope Summers in tow, Illyana is dispatched along with a group of other X-Men to retrieve the pair and return them to the safety of the island nation of Utopia. Unfortunately, Bastion's forces nearly kill the trio in an explosion, but Illyana manages to take the brunt of the attack. Before she can use magic to mend herself, Illyana is dragged into Limbo via a stepping disc by demons, much to Colossus's dismay. The next day, Colossus confronts Cyclops, and demands that he be allowed to rescue his sister. Cyclops declines his request, explaining that he needs him by his side, and that he has already ordered Cannonball to form a team of X-Men to retrieve the teleporter from the hellish dimension. They include Northstar, Anole, Pixie, Trance, Dazzler, and Gambit. Although some of the mutants are more willing to help than others, they are all teleported to Limbo thanks to the spell Magik taught Pixie during the events of Quest For Magik. They are quickly attacked by the monstrous hordes belonging to the demon N'astirh, and Gambit succumbs to the realm's evil mystical influence.
Facing seemingly insurmountable odds, Dazzler and Northstar both fall victim to Gambit's corruption, and proceed to attack the remaining X-Men sent to aid illyana. Meanwhile, Pixie is visited by N'astirh, and given a choice. He offers to restore the portion of her soul that has been corrupted by Magik. All she has to do is use her Souldagger to kill Magik, and retrieve the Soul Sword for him. Pixie seems reluctant, but allows the demon to take her to Magik. Magik pleads with Pixie to take her life, and end her suffering, but Pixie tricks N'astirh, and stabs the demon with her weapon. With the aid of Cannonball and Anole, The trio manage to free Magik from her imprisonment, and liberate Gambit, Dazzler, and Northstar from Limbo's wicked influence. Magik explains that the reason she hates the new crop of X-Men so much is that they remind her of the monster she has become, and of everything she has lost since Inferno.
Once Pixie and the X-Men free Magik, the pair use their weapons to stab N'astirh, and Illyana reclaims Limbo as her own realm. Illyana makes a tentative pact with Pixie to work together in order to reclaim what they have lost as the result of dark magic. Magik and her teammates then leave Limbo to rejoin the rest of the X-Men, and combat the threat posed to mutankind during the events of Second Coming.
Avengers vs. X-Men
During the conflict, Magik becomes one of the mutants empowered by the Phoenix Force to help defeat the Avengers. Magik intervenes during a battle between Rogue and the Avenger Ms. Marvel, using her powers to gag the heroine and trap her in Limbo. Upon Namor's defeat, Magik, along with her brother, Cyclops and Emma are empowered by Namor's portion of the Phoenix Force. Magik and Colossus defeat Thor and they throw him into a portion of Limbo that Magik raised into the Earthly plane that they are using a prison for the Avengers. The Rasputin siblings end up fighting the Avengers trying to break their team out. In order to buy some time for the Avengers to break the team free, Spider-Man stands up to the two of them. Colossus punches him telling him he does not wish to harm anyone. Magik tells him that he should kill him now and Colossus tells her he does not like what the Phoenix Force is doing to her, and them in general. Spider-Man tricks the two into fighting each other. The Rasputins clash in a fiery blaze of the flaming cosmic energy and both are knocked out and lose their respective portions of the Phoenix Force which then goes to the remaining avatars, Emma and Cyclops. Magik teleports Colossus and herself away to Siberia. In a dark moment for Colossus where he feels doomed, Magik reveals that she planned Colossus becoming the Juggernaut from the beginning. She wanted him to truly understand how she felt when she was a demon from his own demonic experience. In his anger, he attacks her as the Juggernaut but she teleports away leaving him with her final gift; regret.
Illyana later returns to her brother with the aim of finishing their 'business'. As Colossus attacks her, she teleports the both of them to Limbo and, being empowered there, removes Cyttorak's corruption from her brothers soul. When asked if she could have done this any time, she replies that she could put that she wanted her brother to learn both of her experiences and to not sacrifice someone who "simply does not deserve it". Colossus threatens to kill her if he ever sees her again and, satisfied that he learned that lesson, Illyana teleports away again.
She is next seen at the Jean Grey School For Higher Learning. She hides in Storm's room and upon seeing her, gives her a letter with her brothers location and the suggestion to arrest him. When Storm finds Colossus she is shocked by his animosity he has for the very image of his sister.
All New X-Men and the New Revolution
Illyana plays a crucial role in the breakout that frees Cyclops, summoning demonic arms to tear away the wall of his cell. She is also seen banishing prisoners murdered a mutant inmate to her dimension of Limbo.
Now known as a public enemy to the US Magik has joined Cyclops' team of renegade X-Men alongside with Emma Frost and Magneto. Magik plays a pivotal role in the new All New X-Men series. Magik helps teleport the team around saving innocent mutants from mutant hate groups and law enforcements.
Due to the Phoenix Force's influence on the hosts, their powers have been altered and Magik's have been upgraded. Her, Magneto, Cyclops, Emma Frost, and the two new students named Eva Bell and Christopher Muse, show up to save a new mutant by the name of Fabio Medina. During the rescue, the team is attacked by a horde of sentinels and Magik destroyed a massive one with utter ease. After Cyclops lays waste to the rest, Magik teleports the new mutant to the New Xavier Institute where they will be taught how to control their powers. Magik attends the meeting with the other veteran X-Men where they go over the new institute lay-out with the new students and explain the current world's mutant situation. Eva Bell wishes to go home to check on her mother so Magik volunteers to take her and the others, but the whole group goes save for Magneto. Once in Australia, Magik keeps an out for trouble and eventually a group of the Avengers led by Captain America make their way to the scene.
Cyclops' team show up the Avengers on live TV by having Scott's team appear as victims of persecution and Eva freezing the Avengers in a temporal bubble. Magik continues to be their primary source of transportation as she teleports the team to the Jean Grey Institute where Cyclops attempts to clear the air and offer a chance for the younger mutants to join his school. When they leave and return home, Magik's powers show her broken side-effects as she writhes in pain, disappears in a hellish portal, and the reemerges with a burst of flames before running off on her own. Her powers act up a second time when the team returns once again with new students in the Stepford Cuckoos and the original, younger version of Angel.
Magik is pulled into Limbo after discovering Dormammu has tried taking over. Dormammu forces Magik back into Limbo, along with the rest of the team, and is held captive by the demon as he forces her to watch as his teammates fight for their lives against the mindless ones. Magik manages to break free and casts the team out of the dimension, all the while she absorbs the entirety of Limbo into herself. She then finds the demon in the desolate Limbo and is suggested to have killed him. With her revelation and after absorbing Limbo, Illyana decides she needs help and finds a Dr. Strange back in time before he ever becomes an Avenger to help her control her powers.
Magik and the Cuckoos rescue and recruit a new mutant by the name of David Bond. After receiving word of Fabio's kidnapping at the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D., Magik is one of the team members that helps rescue him. Magik is seen training with Eva, but gets caught in Eva's bubble and displaced somewhere in time before coming back. Magik joins the X-Men team to a pro-Cyclops rally, but the team is suddenly attacked by a new sentinel called the blockbuster sentinel. Since the Blockbuster sentinel attack, Magik has helped in training the students and fighting with the alternate timeline versions of the X-Men during the Battle of the Atom event. When the X-Men get a notification of a new mutant, it turns out to be a trap from more sentinels. Thinking it is SHIELD, Cyclops tries to get a distraction going when he learns the sentinel is somehow disabling their mutant abilities. Illyana taps into her training from Dr. Strange and unleashes a magical dragon attack that destroys a bunch of the sentinels. The large one ends up fleeing and the team declares war on whoever is sending these sentinels, whether it be SHIELD or someone using SHIELD.
The Last Will & Testament of Charles Xavier
When lawyer Jennifer Walters, aka She-Hulk, received the last will and testament of Charles Xavier, she left for the Jean Grey School to read it to the X-Men listed by Xavier, who also included Scott Summers on the list. In order to have the will read, Scott needed to be contacted and brought to the school. Hank McCoy revealed that he'd always known where Scott's secret base was, but he never told anyone else, not wanting his life to be directed by Scott Summers any longer. The X-Men flew to the New Charles Xavier School for Mutants in the Canadian wilderness, and were greeted by the Uncanny X-Men. The situation was explained, and Magik quickly teleported to JGS and back to verify the story. Scott, Emma, Illyana, Kitty, and Ali teleported to JGS for the reading of the will. It was revealed that Charles Xavier had married Mystique, and that he'd covered up the discovery of an omnipotent mutant by the name of Matthew Malloy. He'd suppressed the boy's memories in order to suppress his powers, but it was all beginning to become undone. He charged the X-Men with the final task of finding and suppressing this mutant. Scott left along with Storm and Rachel Grey to find the mutant. With a wave of his hand, Malloy destroyed a S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier, and proved to be telepathically immune to Rachel's provocations. He teleported the X-Men away, back to their respective schools. Scott had Magik teleport him back to Malloy, and made a deal with the man. Together, the trio teleported away to Devil's Tower. Scott ordered Magik to give him time to talk to Malloy. During this time, Magneto intervened telling Scott that he'd gone too far, and needed to back down. Malloy, angered, teleported Magneto away and continued his conversation with Scott.
In the meantime, Magik visited Doctor Strange in the past again, and, after interrupting one of his more private sessions with a woman, asked if he knew of a way to stop someone as powerful as Malloy. Strange gave Magik the Eye of Agamotto to use on Malloy. Teleporting back to the present, Magik attempted to explain how she would use the artifact, when SHIELD attack forces appeared and blew the entirety of Devil's Tower to smithereens, resulting in the unfortunate and untimely demise of Scott Summers, Matthew Malloy, and Illyana, herself.
Guardians of the Galaxy & X-Men: The Black Vortex
Responding to a distress call from her friend and teammate Kitty Pryde, Illyana takes the All-New X-Men and teleports to the Jean Grey School. Once there, she is able to quickly and vaguely inform Storm and Beast that there is a problem that requires their attention. She teleports the group to a the planet Spartax where Kitty and her boyfriend, Peter Quill aka the Legendary Star-Lord are waiting for them with the Guardians of the Galaxy. They have gathered to discuss the dangers of the mysterious Black Vortex, and begin to argue over what should be done with it. While some, like Gamora, want to use the artifact, others, like Storm, want to destroy it. The cosmically empowered Slaughter Lords working for Mister Knife attack the assembled heroes to steal back the Black Vortex. While they battle, Gamora uses the Vortex to enhance herself. With her new skills, she easily battles all of the Slaughter Lords at once, giving Magik time to teleport everyone away. Once safely spirited away by Magik, an argument erupts once again over what should be done, with Kitty spearheading the argument against using the Black Vortex. During the commotion, Beast uses it and becomes cosmically empowered. He agrees with Gamora. All his questions have been answered. He urges the others to use the artifact, tilting the mirror so that they can see what they would look like if cosmically empowered by the Black Vortex.
Powers and Abilities
Illyana has two very distinctive powers, one is her mutant power to generate spacial/temporal warps in the form of stepping discs, the other is her magic, learned while she was in Limbo. As more and more of her soul was removed, it was replaced and filled with Black Magic granting vast mystical abilities. The two powers will be described separately below.
Mutant Power
Stepping Disc
Illyana Rasputin has the mutant ability to create and control teleportation energies in the form of "stepping discs". These yellow rings of glowing light, once created, provide the ability to teleport. Not only just herself but a group of individuals as well, to a multitude of different places including destinations in both time and space. The only limitation to her teleportation power is that she must use Limbo as her stopping point prior to her final destination, wherever that may be. Magik can also teleport herself or others into her domain, Limbo or "Hell" dimension or out of it. As Limbo is her domain, Illyana is able to mentally scan Limbo, while on Earth in order to locate whomever she wishes to teleport to Earth from it. Magik has succeeded in teleporting herself and another person across a continent on one occasion, and to travel through time on a few others.
However, Magik has not yet mastered her teleportation ability. The greater the distance over which she teleports, the greater the possible margin of error in terms of her arriving at the point in time she desires. Hence, when she once teleported herself and a friend from New York to California, hoping to arrive within seconds of the time she left, Magik and her friend instead arrived one week later, having accidentally traveled into the future. Magik is continuously practicing the use of her teleportation power in order to master it. Although already quite adept in the use of the mutant powers she still has a lot to learn especially considering how new she is to them.
In terms of potential Illyana's is nearly limitless. She was once told by Dr. Strange that she had the potential for great feats of manipulating time on a very wide scale. Never one to accept the status quo, Illyana continuously and regularly practices the use of her mutant powers in order to master them and have them grow in strength.
Ever since having her powers altered by the Phoenix Force, Magik has undergone an upgrade. She has been shown to be able to conjure and project powerful blasts of energy from her Limbo dimension as an extension of her powers rather than her magic. She has been shown consistently adept at teleporting people away before others can react. Since Dormammu attempted to take over Limbo, Illyana has absorbed the entire dimension into her body.
Magical Power
Sorceress
As a result of the time Illyana was forced to spend in Limbo, she was permanently changed both physically and mentally. She would spend a total of 6 years in Limbo during which she would learn valuable skills and abilities taught to her by different teachers that would help her in becoming the future Sorceress Supreme & Ruler of Limbo, that she was destined to become. During her first year in Limbo, Illyana was an apprentice to an alternate reality version of Storm. One who unfortunately was stuck in Limbo and lost the ability to control the weather instead becoming a powerful magician highly skilled in the use of white magic. So skilled was she, that she was nearly able to best Belasco in their very first battle only faltering in the very end. During Illyana's time with the now elderly Ororo, she was taught in the uses and practices of white magic. Different from black magic, white magic usually helped rather then hurt when used. She was also taught about life, the creation of it and astral projection. It would be during the time that she would spend with the elderly Ororo that Illyana would learn, much later master, the ability to mystically heal herself. She would spend an entire year apprenticing under the tutelage of the elderly Ororo.
Following Illyana's first year with Ororo, Illyana then was trained by Cat. Cat was an alternate reality version of Kitty Pryde. No longer fully human in appearance, due to an interaction with Belasco, she had been transformed into a cat-like hybrid making her more animal in nature. As a result of the magical transformation forced on Cat, she had a hate for magic and wanted Illyana to have nothing to do with it. Illyana would train with Cat for 2 years, during which she would be taught how to fight, specifically, unarmed-combat and in the effective use of bladed weapons. Initially Cat taught Illyana how to use a dagger then moved on to that of swords. Illyana would become quite comfortable in the use of both weapons; comfortable and very effective. It was during her time with Cat that she was also taught valuable survival skills allowing her to thrive in the most unlikely places. Illyana would grow to become best friends with Cat and look at her like family, willing to do anything to protect her.
It would be during her time with Limbo's, then, ruler Belasco that Illyana would learn and be changed the most. It was Belasco's goal to transform all 5 parts of Illyana's soul into Bloodstones. This was for two very different reasons. Firstly, with the 5 Bloodstones, Belasco could complete the magical Beatrice Medallion thus allowing him the ability to traverse to and from Limbo. An ability he had lost when he was exiled to Limbo by his masters the Elder Gods, for failing them. As a result of her soul being removed, it would be filled completely with black magic and would permanently make her a tool of both his, Belasco, and that of his evil masters the Elder Gods. This would make her a being of pure evil and thus helping the Elder Gods take over the Earth dimension.
Belasco would be unsuccessful in his ploy to remove all 5 parts of Illyana's soul. In the 3 years that she would learn under his tutelage, he would only manage to take 3/5 of her soul. This would still permanently taint her soul and as a result give her a partial demonic soul instead. It would be during her time as a pupil of Belasco's that he would teach her the darkest of the dark arts and the blackest of black magic. While at his palace she, too, had full access to Belasco's library of books of magic, that he had collected through this long, unnatural life. Belasco taught the young Illyana everything he knew. As a result of this, Illyana could produce virtually any and all spells that Belasco could and would be able to manipulate the forces of magic for a variety of effects to include.
-Mind Control (both humans and animals)
-Metamorphing (herself, others or objects. living or otherwise)
-Astral Projection
-Necromancy
-Generate and release concussive bolts of pure magic energy
-Creation of magical force fields
-Inter-dimensional travel
-Ability to generate and manipulate fire
-Mental Possession
-Dark force manipulation
-Creation of constructs purely of magical energies
As a result of Illyana's diverse training and multiple years learning while in Limbo, she gained an aptitude for sorcery and control over magic that was unlike no other. She had created a unique blend of both white and black magic that she would wield. Additionally, due to her now partially demonic soul, Illyana had also naturally gained formidable psionic shielding granting her immunity to mental probing. This shielding was effective enough to hinder the vaunted telepathic abilities of both Professor X and Marvel Girl (Rachel Summers) arguably two of the most powerful mutant minds the world has seen.
After Illyana bested Belasco in battle, she chose to exile him from the Limbo, allowing him to live rather than kill him. As the winner, Illyana, was granted the title of Sorceress Supreme of Limbo. The full extents of her powers have not yet been fully defined. It have been stated that in Limbo, Illyana's power is unmatched and her word is law. With but a single thought she can completely alter the physical appearance of Limbo. As stated previously, she too, potentially, could cast all spells that Belasco could have. This especially since she has unlimited access to Balesco's sorceress knowledge.
For this reason and more Illyana is most powerful during her time in Limbo. This is clearly a result of her should being connected to the dimension, allowing for the two being intertwined by the very essences that they are created from. On the flip side, while on the Earth dimension, cut off from Limbo, Illyana's magical prowess and abilities are dramatically reduced. Illyana has preformed a handful of magical skills on Earth but nothing comparable to that of what she can do in Limbo. While on Earth, Illyana has effectively preformed; Astral projection, an abilities to sense magical presences and the ability to magically scan her Limbo dimension, allowing her to track and/or see all that occurs in Limbo while she is away. Illyana's most notable power while on Earth though are largely limited to her magical weapon, of her own making, called the Soulsword.
Recently,Illyana has been using her abilities to travel back in time to Dr. Strange before he became an Avenger to help train her in her magical abilities.
The Soulsword
The Soulsword is the ultimate embodiment of Illyana's magical strength that was forged during a time of great need and despair. Illyana was desperate to find a way to free herself of Belasco and find a way to leave Limbo.
⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽
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A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
Secret Identity: Illyana Nikolaievna Rasputina
Publisher: Marvel
First appearance: As Illyana Rasputina: Giant-Size X-Men #1 (May 1975)
As Magik: Magik (Storm and Illyana) #1 (December 1983)
Created by:
Illyana Rasputina:
Len Wein (Writer)
Dave Cockrum (Artist)
Magik:
Chris Claremont (Writer)
Sal Buscema (Artist)
Illyana has not been seen on the Bijou Planks stage prior to this, but she has been seen outside the theater, such as in Paprihaven issue 1269!