Here we have a drinking hall not unlike how one would imagine Herot in the epic verses of Beowulf. Great timbers carved with fabulous grotesques support the golden walls and brace the high a-frame ceiling. A series of large fire trenches run the length of center, to a slightly raised platform that might serve as a stage for skalds or perhaps a high-seat for kings. Along either side short moveable benches just long enough for a drunk or two to pass out on are pushed against the walls.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
Thursday, August 4, 2011
In The Beginning
Here is the creation story. This is a modern retelling from 1912. Notice how similar it is to Grecian stories.
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/tml/tml06.htm
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/tml/tml06.htm
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Arthur Rackham
One of my all time favorite artists.
Arthur Rackham was an english man and he worked in the early 1900s, leaving us in 1939.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Rackham#Gallery
Arthur Rackham was an english man and he worked in the early 1900s, leaving us in 1939.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Rackham#Gallery
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Beowulf.
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/tsb/tsb02.htm
The Story of Beowulf.
Forget about the movies you have seen, read the story for your self.
This is a nice version from 1933.
It is in the public domain so feel free to spread it around.
Beowulf was one of the very first stories to be written down in the Old English language, and many things historical can be gleaned even from the various translations that are out there.
Enjoy.
(This is a picture of Chronos, or Saturn by Goya)
Monday, August 1, 2011
Lughnasadh prayer.
Lord of light,
Lady of love
The wheel turns ever according to thy will.
For the ripened grain and fragrant herb of the field
We praise thee and give thanks.
For the blessings of thy earth and bounty of thy yield
We offer up our grace.
Sun-king, warm us in thy final days
As the bitter voice of winter calls
And we wend our way unto the grave.
Fill these waiting hallowed halls
With love to light this maze
Lead us through this thorn torn way
Away from the garden of pain
And bring us again unto that place,
Where our laughing kindred wait
Our smiles upon their face
That we may share with them again
Your immortal divine embrace
Lord of light,
Lady of love
The wheel turns ever according to thy will.
For the ripened grain and fragrant herb of the field
We praise thee and give thanks.
For the blessings of thy earth and bounty of thy yield
We offer up our grace.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)