Happy Holidays!

Sorry I haven't replied to everyone's greetings and such yet. I got sick the day before christmas and haven't gotten back feeling well until now. It's so typical to get sick as soon I have some time off. XD

I hope all of you had wonderful christmas and that you will enjoy the new year. For those who don't celebrate: I hope you are all doing well too. :) Take care of yourselves and stay happy!

Miss you all!
<3

Lazy holidays are better with visiting friends. chigrima stopped by for a day on her way home for some tea and good ol' gaming. Funny how I'm always better at the latter when not alone. DMC3 you remain one of the best games ever I love you forever on so many levels; but one and a half level of DMC2 and both me and Chi's brain had rotted. Damn that game sucks but hey props for animated fluffy white hair and stylish evade moves.Even more so when they know you and know what you like.

Oh my god bless friends who knows what you like. chigrima, anla and silvestri; girls I love you and wish I could have hugged you all! That exact tome of The Divine Comedy with illustrations by Doré was on my AdLibris wish-list. Not any more! So beautiful ♥♥♥

It looks to be a chilly New Years as usual here at home. Fetching anla at the train station will require double pair of long-johns.


The past year is going to take quite a while to summarize and I think it will have to wait. For now, here's that art meme. Art-wise it has been a dry year even if a few pieces have been worth-while and memorable enough. I think this remains one of my favourites.

1. X-posted from Flewelling.yahoo: LOL! Modern readers have been reading (or misreading) a slashy subtext into Holmes and Watson's relationship for decades. I suppose the movie will be a real shot in the arm to what is probably a substantial body of fan fic. I've never read it that way myself, and I've read those books and stories many, many times. The friendship is definitely there, and there are wonderful flashes of it from the normally cerebral Holmes, as in The Hound of the Baskervilles, or "The Devil's Foot," as well as comic moments of annoyance from Watson at Holmes's less than admirable habits. So the "old married couple" dynamic does hold water. But actual implied romance? No. I have nothing against slashers, mind you, but certain friendship relationships in fiction, including Holmes and Watson and Sam and Frodo, are so pure and perfect that I hate to see them changed to anything else. But that's just me.


2. The movie: The more I think about the movie, the less satisfied I am with the portrayal of Holmes. It's as if he's stuck in one of his manic phases for the entire time and since he is central to the movie, it changes the flavor of everything. He spends so much time in fist fights. I liked the "pre-planning" sequences they used for those, but would like to have seen the same applied to him deducing from pieces of evidence. We only get a few seconds of it at the very end, done so quickly that you could miss it, and it certainly isn't given much attention, just a few phrases thrown out before they return to the melee.

So many of the changes they made, including his clearly physical relationship with Irene, were so much the antithesis of the "book" Holmes, that in the end I think about all that really remained of poor Holmes was the name. I still think it was a fun movie, but give me Jeremy Brett any day.

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Current Mood: working

Family and I went to see "Sherlock Holmes" this afternoon. As someone who has read the books and stories many, many times, I'd seen enough of the previews to know that I'd better leave any expectations home if I was going to enjoy the film.

Robert Downy Jr was brilliant, as always, even if this interpretation of Holmes is a bit of a stretch. Same for Jude Law as Watson. I enjoyed them both very much, so long as I didn't make any comparisons. There were moments when they were spot on, and moments when they were very out of character with the books.

But their handling of Mary Morstan, Watson's fiancee, and the ever scheming and beautiful Irene Adler, "the woman" in Holmes' mind, were very well done. Lestrade was just right most of the time, too. The bad guy was wonderfully bad. Holmes treatment of his landlady, Mrs. Hudson, however, was abominable. As bad a tenant as he was, the real Holmes was always gentlemanly with her.

Oddly enough, much of the deduction revelations were given to Watson and Adler. Holmes didn't really shine until the end, and then there were some plot holes.

The overall plot felt like fan fiction to me and got rather muddled here and there, though there were a series of very good set pieces. But it is a visual feast, fast paced, often funny, with some little details here and there straight out of the books to delight a purist like me. And Watson's "bull pup," mentioned in "A Study in Scarlet" and never again in the Canon, has a very nice role.

Interestingly, a line from the previews, someone—Irene, I think—joking about Holmes and Watson "flirting" does not make it into the final film. Given the general choppiness of the plot and and the holes, I suspect a lot of good stuff got left on the cutting room floor. Too bad.

Overall, a fun, lively romp. If you're a fellow purist, try to forget the books and just relax and enjoy.

I just received this Christmas card from Ovsanna Arzoumanian, who has a number of lovely art pieces in the Orëska gallery. Enjoy!

Hugs and holly, home-made cream birthday cake with fresh strawberries, Bella Notte, a snowy chaos on silent frosty white nights, holiday dinner and aquavit cheers; Happy holidays and party into the new year~

chigrima

silvestris

linah

vestaka

kriatyrr

Current Mood: pleasant

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Current Mood: cranky

OKAY, SO, ON MY LAST PEENDANCE (SUBMITTED YESTERDAY), I APPARENTLY LOSERCASED ON THE MANIP. DX I FAIL AT LIFE SO HARD SOMETIMES. ANYWAY, SO I WAS PENALIZED. AGAIN. ibroketuesday CAUGHT ME.

( CLICK HERE TO READ MY BABBLING! )

ibroketuesday

thisfishflies

ibroketuesday

imisspadfoot21

Current Mood: frustrated

In keeping with hallowed tradition, here is your Christmas eve snippet. I thought I'd better not give away any more of White Road or you won't need to read it at all, so here is a peek at the still untitled Nightrunner 6! Happy Holidays, all!

_______________________

Young lord Selin had made good on his promise. That night they were to meet him at the Drake in the Street of Lights to be introduced to Duke Reltheus and do some gambling. They were preparing to set out when Runcer appeared at their door with a familiar pinched look of disapproval around his eyes and mouth. “That young boy is back, asking for you, my lord,” he told Seregil, sounding pained at having to deliver such distasteful news. "I did tell him you were not available but he refused to leave until he spoke with you, so I put him in the back garden.”

“Thank you. I’ll see to him.” Seregil arched a brow at Alec as they headed downstairs.

They’d found Kepi a few months ago, when the boy had cut Alec’s purse in the Harvest Market. He’d led them a merry chase to get it back, too, right down into the sewers. It wasn’t that there was anything irreplaceable in the purse; the fact that the boy had been able to get that close, and then nearly gotten away intrigued Seregil and since then he’d found occasion to use him as an extra set of eyes and ears in the lower quarters of town. Kepi surfaced periodically with some tidbit, almost always something of use.

The boy was perched on the rain butt, wolfing down a mince tart. Runcer might not approve of him, but the cook had a soft spot for the child and never let him get way with without something in his belly.

Kepi was a true orphan of the streets, and knew neither his parents nor his own age, From the looks of him, he could have been anywhere from ten to a malnourished twelve or thirteen. He was skinny as a stray cat, with a pointed little face and wide blue eyes under a tangle of sandy brown hair. His long tunic—one of some nephew's castoffs that Cook had cut down for him—hung loose on his thin shoulders and his legs and feet were bare and dusty beneath it. He could play the innocent when needed, but in truth he possessed up the craftiness and streak of savagery needed to survive his part of the city. But he was also bright and quick, and utterly devoted to his benefactors.

As soon as he caught sight of Seregil and Alec he hopped down from the barrel and made them an awkward little bow. “’Evenin’, my lords,” he said, spewing crumbs around a mouthful of tart. “Hope I didn’t disturb you or nuthin’.”

“Not at all, Kepi. What do you have for us?” asked Seregil.

“That actor fellow, Atre the Mycenia? He's a friend of yours, ain't he?"

"How in the world did you know that?"

Kepi just winked and grinned.

"Yes, he's a friend of ours. What of it?"

"Well, he got hisself knifed tonight.”

“Bilairy’s balls! How? Where?” asked Alec.

“Down at the waterfront, back of the Skulpin. It just happened and I come straight up to tell you.”

“The Skulpin?” said Alec. “What was he doing down there?” The tavern was on the edge of the respectable commerce district of the Lower City, a place where Upper City young bloods gravitated to when they wanted a bit of danger. The gambling house catered mostly to traders and sea faring men, but there were plenty of cutpurses, bawds, and footpads about at this time of night, ready to relieve the unwary of their winnings. “Is he alive?”

“He was when I heard about it. I come straight here.”

“Good lad.” Seregil took half a dozen coppers—the only safe coinage for someone like Kepi to be caught with—from his purse and gave them to the boy. "You know the Drake gambling house?"

"In the whore's street, you mean, by the Astellus Circle?"

"That's the one. Go there and ask for Lord Selin. Give him our apologies and tell him we're going to be a bit late. You don't need to say why."

Kepi made him another ill formed bow and Seregil let him out the back gate. The boy took off at a run and was soon out of sight among the evening crowd strolling the grassy common.

Since they were dressed as lords, they took their Aurenfaie horses and galloped down to the Skulpin. There, they found the actor gasping on couch in one of the private gaming rooms. He was dressed only in rough trousers and a loose, blood stained shirt and rather rough looking shoes, and apparent attempt to fit in with his surroundings.

A small crowd of ne’er do wells and doxies were peering in from the doorway, but parted for Alec and Seregil, who had come armed.

A drysian was with Atre, tending to a wound on his belly. The actor was white-faced except for the traces of stage paint here and there on his skin, and looked frightened, but at least he was conscious.

“What happened?” Seregil asked, kneeling down beside him and taking the man’s hand.

“Oh, my lords!” Atre gasped, clinging to Seregil’s hand with both of his, which were sticky with blood. “How did you know?”

“Never mind that. What the hell happened to you?”

“It was a girl,” the young actor whimpered. “She said she was hurt, and when I tried to help her—look what she did!”

“And took your purse, I suppose,” said Alec. It was a common ploy among the girl cutpurses.

“It’s not as bad as all that,” the drysian scoffed as he began to bandage the wound. “Hardly more than a scratch!”

“What are you doing in a place like this alone?” asked Alec.

“Oh, you know—“ Atre was too pale to blush but he looked rather ashamed of himself.

Seregil gave him a knowing look. “Got tired of the pampered nobles and came looking for a bit of rougher fun?”

The actor looked away, saying nothing.

“This is no place for the likes of you,” the drysian scolded. “Stay up on your heights and find your fun there. I have better things to do than patch up you silly thrill seekers.”

“I will, Brother. By the Maker, I will!” Atre mumbled, then looked up imploringly at Seregil. “Please, my lord, don’t leave me here all night!”

“Of course not,” Seregil assured him, and caught Alec rolling his eyes. “Go ask the master of the house to hire us a carriage, will you?”

“If he can get one at this hour.” Alec strode out, calling for the landlord.

The drysian finished with the bandage and straightened up. “There, that should hold your guts in well enough. See that you keep the wound clean and it should be healed right in a week or so, if a bit sore.”

“I have to be on stage tomorrow!”

“I hope you have a good understudy, then.” With that, the drysian nodded to Seregil and took his leave.

“Oh, Calieus will love this!” the young actor groaned. “He hangs around like a carrion crow, just waiting for something like this to happen.”

“It’s his job, isn’t it? And I really don’t think you can blame this on your understudy,” Seregil chuckled, washing his hands with the water left in the pitcher the healer had used. “Honestly, if you’d wanted to come some place like this, you should have asked Alec and me. We’d have come with you.”

“Sometimes I think your lover doesn’t like me.”

“He doesn’t like you flirting with me, as you very well know. Behave yourself tonight or he’ll put you out in the street.”

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Current Mood: cheerful

mishaland

mishaland

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breakinporcelan

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Here we honor the best of the best on Twitter for 2009. This prestigious award comes only once a year and is reserved for that outstanding Twitter sensation that tweeted far above the rest. Who do you think deserves the top honor? Will it be somebody famous or somebody that's about to become famous? There's only one way to find out.

VOTE FOR MISHA COLLIN, EVERYONE! <3  (Click here to vote!)

He's in 4th place at the moment and his votes are raising constantly. <3 You can vote every 20 minutes and if you're a Castiel or Misha-fan, you should totally vote for him! <3

Please feel free to let other people know to vote for him too. That would be great. <3

THERE ARE EIGHT DAYS LEFT TO THE CONTEST. THAT'S TOTALLY ENOUGH TIME TO GET HIM INTO NUMBER ONE! <3 *bounces excitedly* GET TO VOTING, BB. <3

Current Mood: excited

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Current Mood: tired

Hey sexy people, time sure flies doesn't it?

Day after tomorrow is my birthday and like a good kitten I intend to fatty up and sleep. Besides the regular traditions of birthdays and gathering for the end-of-year holiday feasts, this is a great time of year to chase down old friends and give them hugs and I will busy myself with that too. I might be scarce on AIM and especially so during the 23rd to 25th, but I'm still around. Just toss me a mail or a comment if you need me.

It's been one hell of a year and I hope I'll get to talk about that later, but for now.. I just have to say,

♥

Four men's socks in one week may not sound like a lot, but it is. Men's feet are huge! Thousands and thousands of tiny little stitches in fingering weight. My right thumb and forefinger are wrapped in band aids but the two pairs are done and under the tree.

I did get an early Christmas present out of the job, though, which made the task much easier, an Ott light. http://www.ott-lite.com/p-71-tasklitehd-reg-5999-sale-4999.aspx

When you get all done with it, it's just a pair of socks, and I wonder if non-knitter recipients ever really "get" what goes into such a gift, but knitters knit for the love of it, and those they knit for.

A review of one of my favorite Yunnan teas, from one of my favorite vendors.

http://www.teaviews.com/2009/12/21/review-sensational-tea-yunnan-fop-dianhong/

Häpp!
Platsen är Östersund, och tidpunkten är dan' före dan' före dopparedan'.

I förra avsnittet gjorde Lisa klart en bild som nog ska inbringa en liten slant; utöver det har tiden ägnats åt det traditionella "gå utanför dörren, frys kinderna av dig, dyk in i en butik och låtsas vara intresserad av varorna tills nämnda kinder tinat upp, dyk ut igen, frys ihjäl, upprepa tills du hittat en lämplig vas åt en gammal släkting".

...Annars har jag lattjat lite med tuschning.

Current Mood: Jaaaja.

Monday. Didn't sleep well but had to get up at seven and walk twenty minutes to the hospital for blood donor appointment. Outside the weather is ice, a thin layer of fluffy powdery snow, and -15°C/5°F. One of the good things about winter is that I can wear my black long coat but this didn't save my knees this time. Neither did wearing long johns fit for skiing. I froze my knees off. Near literally. On the upside early morning in cold weather with a touch of snow is beautifully baby blue and pink.

Turned out my blood value wasn't quite back up to level with donating so they took some tests and sent me home again with a load of iron tablets. Nearly froze my knees off again. Not too surprisingly coming back into the warmth of my apartment I crashed and slept from lunch and into the afternoon. Them cold allergies makes me tense up and it really hits you when you get back inside. At any rate, I had another errand to run and had to go outside again. The dear ol' bike was frozen so I had to walk. This time I froze my knees and thighs numb and it felt funny to walk. Funny and I swear my joints were gritting their proverbial teeth.

There is a gorgeous new moon out tonight and the air smells nice and fresh. One just wish I hadn't have to sacrifice my legs for the experience. Really need to find those ski pants.


Happy birthday, auragirl!

Happy solstice everyone~ Let's look ahead to brighter times together.

Madly trying to finish a few knitting projects, I've been in front of the TV a lot. Yesterday I got to "see" (half watch half knit) Pixar's "Ratatouille" again. I adore Pixar's work, not just for the amazing visuals, but for their exceptional story telling. Here's one of my favorite quotes ever, which happens to come from that movie.

Anton Ego: "In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends."