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My last journal was apparently back in May... I'm bit out of sorts again, but here's my best attempt at playing catch up.

Summer:
  • Moved back home for a job with solid hours and better pay that somehow managed to beat out three jobs combined. 
  • Mostly got my feet back under me in terms of finishing off my degree and prepared to transfer schools
  • Family reunion, in which there was a bit of writing (Muse had been scared off for months), a bit of calligraphy and quite a bit of henna
  • Prepared to move back to school

Fall:
  • School started up (8 classes, 18 credits... the usual), and I'm now three hours from home instead of an hour and a half, and just over two hours from my home SCA group.
  • Definitely start to find myself again in terms of school and self-confidence.
  • A friend's funeral, and the journey that that entailed.
  • History Fest with my home SCA group, which was an awesome if really chilly camping event.

Winter:
  • Twelfth Night event back at home, got to see some of my SCA family again
  • Christmas fun with family and friends
  • Birthday week.... all sorts of fun- potluck supper with friends, skype call home, massive homework piling in preparation for Lupercalia this past weekend.
  • Lupercalia! On that same note, my SCA name's almost entirely registered, and my device is well on it's way to being approved (it was returned for simple redraw but passed all conflict checks).
  • The rest of Lupercalia is better described in narrative, because there's only so many ways of saying that it was entirely fantastic.

She slips through the throngs of milling people, quietly excusing herself as necessary while carrying an empty water cooler to refill in one moment, and a message to be passed on in the next. It's a familiar dance she's in; she's danced it since her first day in the dream-turned-game that is the SCA. Her errands keep her busy as she runs this there, finds that here, and begs a boon on behalf of another. She's fully immersed in all that happens, and hardly draws an eye, just as she prefers. She sees all, hears much and saves it all for rainy days to come.

Court begins, and with her shift at soda selling complete, she slips into the back rows that are more like uneven waves, snagging a chair with the rest of the shire. It's a welcome reprieve to sit for a moment as, with pride, she watches shire member after shire member be called into Court in recognition for their time and service. She's honored to be able to be part of such a group of folks, and glad to be at their sides once again after months of long separation. What she doesn't expect is the cold wave of surprise that follows the sound of her own name.

For the first time in the four years she's danced her quiet dance, she's been singled out. The aisle is suddenly much longer than before, her footsteps suddenly loud in the waiting hush. Their Majesties speak to the challenges that arise from those who take the time to nurture college students, because such members so often must be shared with the Kingdom at large rather than staying in the lands of their birth. Their focus then turns to her as They speak to the service of leadership given to the group on campus- a mantle of responsibility that she parted ways with a year before and still misses, and to the service of hospitality that she's given through sewing days and mad nights of sewing against the clock for an event the next day so that others might share the dream.  There is a pause before the herald begins to read, her broad smile proclaiming that she meant exactly what she said in an earlier conversation with the parting words, "See you soon."

It is her Award of Arms, and even with her newly registered name spelled out in beautiful calligraphy, she scarce can believe it's hers. It's a day that she's thought about once or twice, but never for much more than a few moments at most. She likes her quiet place in the shadows, being useful and serving within the Dream. The shy Christiana Galyard's gone now, and in her place, Lady Christiana Galyard rises to her duties. The dance and dream must be shared, after all, and when the nearest group is at least an hour's travel away, there's plenty of people with which to begin.
  • Mood: Dumbfounded
  • Listening to: SCA bards
  • Playing: in history
It is a great power that we wield, and a great loneliness beside. All the others fear us, and with good reason for between us, we call life, life, and death, death, and give meaning to the time between the two.  We are the bookends and the pages of a book that we have written and that we alone know the end to. Meddle in our ways, and that which is written between the covers can change. Please or amuse us, and perhaps your story shall take a turn for the better before the end, for that is who we are. Clotho, the youngest of our triple existence spins the thread that man and not-man alike call Life on her wheel of flashing stories. I, Lachesis, measures out her work, deciding the length and the imperfections that each story should contain. Atropos, once the youngest, now the eldest of our trio wields the blades that put swiftly put an end to the art that together we have created, declaring the final product as complete in all ways.

It is Atropos between us that has changed the most, and for Atropos it is that we most fear.  Once cautious, he’d ponder the power that he wielded through the blades in his hand, snipping here and snipping there to cut short the life misspent and put an end to the suffering that I deemed fair. Atropos kept my dreams in check, and I kept Clotho in check, for she knew that I could grant rest and peace or hatred and suffering in each life that she spun. She in turn kept Atropos in balance with the promise of a new life to replace each that he took.  

That was the way it was then. Now though, things have gone awry, and the balance that we had we have shaken, perhaps beyond repair. We wield a great power in unison, but when one choses to walk their own path, that is where our careful work begins to unravel- slowly at first, but oh so rapidly if left uncheck. Without the balance, Clotho spins faster and faster, her wheel a blur that only she can stop. Without the balance, I am free to write each story as I please, the ink of my measure pouring into the lives with new color, new suffering, and new dreams that ought not to be. Without the balance, Atropos’ shears flash with a newly sharpened edge, cutting here and there without cause or purpose.  

The balance of power is fear, and with fear comes loneliness. No one dares to visit, now that the balance is undone and there is none to keep us in check. They fear the rawness that is left of our work, the mess that is what remains of Clotho’s work, and my art. They fear the flashing blades that Atropos wields without rhyme or reason.  Their fear is a tangible thing, a wall that divides us from them, and in that wall, we are alone.
I sang the anthem of my people
Hoping that in doing, I’d find my crowd;
The ones who, like I,
Have a public face oh so very different
From the one which is real.

I sang the anthem of my people
As I walked the paths new to me,
and watched each face
to find some trace of recognition.

Day’s end has now come,
And I cannot help but wonder
Have I lost the tune? The melody?
Do they sing our anthem different here?

My door is open, the signs I thought clear
Displayed for all to see if they but look.
Yet I wonder, must I the anthem relearn;
Or are our numbers here so few
That we simply haven’t crossed paths yet?
Our Anthem
A companion piece to "Together as One" 
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Journal History

My last journal was apparently back in May... I'm bit out of sorts again, but here's my best attempt at playing catch up.

Summer:
  • Moved back home for a job with solid hours and better pay that somehow managed to beat out three jobs combined. 
  • Mostly got my feet back under me in terms of finishing off my degree and prepared to transfer schools
  • Family reunion, in which there was a bit of writing (Muse had been scared off for months), a bit of calligraphy and quite a bit of henna
  • Prepared to move back to school

Fall:
  • School started up (8 classes, 18 credits... the usual), and I'm now three hours from home instead of an hour and a half, and just over two hours from my home SCA group.
  • Definitely start to find myself again in terms of school and self-confidence.
  • A friend's funeral, and the journey that that entailed.
  • History Fest with my home SCA group, which was an awesome if really chilly camping event.

Winter:
  • Twelfth Night event back at home, got to see some of my SCA family again
  • Christmas fun with family and friends
  • Birthday week.... all sorts of fun- potluck supper with friends, skype call home, massive homework piling in preparation for Lupercalia this past weekend.
  • Lupercalia! On that same note, my SCA name's almost entirely registered, and my device is well on it's way to being approved (it was returned for simple redraw but passed all conflict checks).
  • The rest of Lupercalia is better described in narrative, because there's only so many ways of saying that it was entirely fantastic.

She slips through the throngs of milling people, quietly excusing herself as necessary while carrying an empty water cooler to refill in one moment, and a message to be passed on in the next. It's a familiar dance she's in; she's danced it since her first day in the dream-turned-game that is the SCA. Her errands keep her busy as she runs this there, finds that here, and begs a boon on behalf of another. She's fully immersed in all that happens, and hardly draws an eye, just as she prefers. She sees all, hears much and saves it all for rainy days to come.

Court begins, and with her shift at soda selling complete, she slips into the back rows that are more like uneven waves, snagging a chair with the rest of the shire. It's a welcome reprieve to sit for a moment as, with pride, she watches shire member after shire member be called into Court in recognition for their time and service. She's honored to be able to be part of such a group of folks, and glad to be at their sides once again after months of long separation. What she doesn't expect is the cold wave of surprise that follows the sound of her own name.

For the first time in the four years she's danced her quiet dance, she's been singled out. The aisle is suddenly much longer than before, her footsteps suddenly loud in the waiting hush. Their Majesties speak to the challenges that arise from those who take the time to nurture college students, because such members so often must be shared with the Kingdom at large rather than staying in the lands of their birth. Their focus then turns to her as They speak to the service of leadership given to the group on campus- a mantle of responsibility that she parted ways with a year before and still misses, and to the service of hospitality that she's given through sewing days and mad nights of sewing against the clock for an event the next day so that others might share the dream.  There is a pause before the herald begins to read, her broad smile proclaiming that she meant exactly what she said in an earlier conversation with the parting words, "See you soon."

It is her Award of Arms, and even with her newly registered name spelled out in beautiful calligraphy, she scarce can believe it's hers. It's a day that she's thought about once or twice, but never for much more than a few moments at most. She likes her quiet place in the shadows, being useful and serving within the Dream. The shy Christiana Galyard's gone now, and in her place, Lady Christiana Galyard rises to her duties. The dance and dream must be shared, after all, and when the nearest group is at least an hour's travel away, there's plenty of people with which to begin.
  • Mood: Dumbfounded
  • Listening to: SCA bards
  • Playing: in history

deviantID

openmeadow
The West Wood Wanderer
Artist | Student | Literature
United States
Writer definition: A healthy mix of nerd and geek, with just enough normalcy to appear sane.

:bulletblue: Ten minutes a day will keep the Muse at bay
:bulletblue: A writer at heart with not nearly enough time.
:bulletblue: There's a story behind each piece of music that's just waiting to be voiced.

Favourite style of art: photography, pencil
Interests

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:iconlindenare:
Lindenare Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Merry Christmas! Cutie Holiday Give Gift - 13 NaNoEmo #29 
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:iconmayathehobbit:
MayaTheHobbit Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2013   Writer
Merry Christmas! :la:
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:iconlindenare:
Lindenare Featured By Owner Jul 22, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Passed Pennsic about 15 minutes ago!
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:iconmayathehobbit:
MayaTheHobbit Featured By Owner Feb 3, 2013   Writer
Mmm, shame I vanished from deviantART for so long. You must have terribly missed me. D=

Doesn't look like I'm coming back soon, though. Stuff going on here. D:
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:iconaustinblan:
austinblan Featured By Owner Jan 27, 2013
beep
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:iconlindenare:
Lindenare Featured By Owner Dec 26, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Merry Christmas, meldonya! (Or would Yuletide be better?)
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:iconlindenare:
Lindenare Featured By Owner Dec 22, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
We should start doing prompts together again.
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rainylake Featured By Owner Dec 12, 2012  Hobbyist Photographer
Hi there! You've been featured here.

[link]

Have a great day. :heart:
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Ilada-Jefiv Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I won't be able to chat with you tomorrow.... I have a loooong day at work. I'm so sorry! :tears:
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PaperDart Featured By Owner Jul 3, 2012   Writer
Thanks for faving! :hug:
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