samarai
You are a samurai.
You are skilled, balanced, and deadly. You hold
honor to your highest value. As a samurai, you
not only know how to fight, but you also know
the skills on how to live.(i.e. cooking,
household chores, e.t.c) You protect your
homeland, and village against any threat that
might ovepower it, and would never leave any of
your comrades behind. You are the right person
to go to for advice, for you are wise beyond
your years. You fight for what you believe in,
and also for what is right, nothing else!

Weapon: Katana
Value: Honor
Feelings: calm and confident

What Type of Warrior are You. (For Girls AND Boys) Long quiz. Be prepared.
brought to you by Quizilla

Figures. My other and more rational/idealistic/pacifistic side would be a Peacekeeper, I think, but I haven't been able to turn him up....though, if I choose light and missions of diplomacy I wind up as a Knight...woohoo!

knight
You are a knight!
Brave and courageous,you are a warrior who fights
for your homeland. As a knight, you are loyal
to your king (or queen) and to the rest of your
comrades. Many look to you for guidance
whenever the going is rough, and when the
kingdom needs your sword, you are there to
offer it. Whenever you believe in something you
will never let it go. You are righteous and
true whenever you fight. You will never raise
your sword unless it is tyranny you are
fighting against.

Weapon:Jeweled sword.
Value: Righteousness.
feelings: Strong and proud

What Type of Warrior are You. (For Girls AND Boys) Long quiz. Be prepared.
brought to you by Quizilla


I think Peacekeeper is the way I used to be when I was younger and more generally optimistic about humanity. These days it's hard to go back and try to be the person I used to, especially knowing that sometimes the needs and the motivations for fighting are simply too strong, too essentially ingrained into the human animal. Unless one first acknowledges those instincts as having some validity, one cannot really combat them with the arts of reason....so, there's a practical lesson for the day....
I'm trying to clear out the clutter decisively, both physically and mentally, as I know that it's stopping me from where I want and ought to be. Submitting things to magazines and contests hardly ever gets realized because I lose the necessary entry details easily and also have a habit of putting off the things I most enjoy doing and are best for me in the long run.

I would like to do an e-zine, but I do have to consider what if any income I can make with my art & writing in such ways--actually, the main reason I haven't submitted anything to others' zines (group-based ones mostly) is that they look at everything as a volunteer contribution, and furthermore don't seem to have the readership to encourage actual patronage from being featured. In other words, it's much like the assumptions of friends and neighbours that they can compliment you endlessly on your talents yet never actually buy your work or tell others about you (when it matters in blunt economic terms). The old taboo against mixing business and personal life has often meant that I'm too polite to ask for any payment for things I do (or that others offer only exposure and 'jam every other day'), and have wound up doing many things pro bono that probably should not have been.

Nevertheless....well, if people could only get the hint that I need more in life than a private pat on the back, that would help alot. I'm loath to offer things 'freely' to any group more intent on promoting itself solely than with mutual promotion and support. I know my stuff's good--I don't want it to be taken for granted, as it has been so much in the past--like schoolkids thinking that they can issue me orders for drawings without giving me anything but the reputation, whatever its length of life. I'm sometimes quite bitter about being shafted, underpaid, fobbed off with token gift-ish amounts or nothing but pie in the sky when I know I'm worth more than that, in practically everything that I do.

I may give group zines something, and something good--but I want something back that isn't just immaterial good will. I feel that I have a right to say that, to ask that where I contribute it get a decent recompense.

Not that they ever take things seriously. Unless one's lucky enough to get noticed by the actually-wealthy, being an artist means usually getting swindled in the present for a chance at maybe something in the future. While still having to navigate everything that normal mortals have to deal with--hunger, thirst, cold, frustration, misunderstandings lack of love...

I shan't go on, for the point's been made and it's ignoble of me to belabour it. Working on thin contingencies sucks big time, end of story.
I know I need exposure, and so I shall find ways of getting it, though preferably through having control rather than the lack of it. And yes, having my own groups and standards is far better for both reputation and sanity than dealing with the shallow dregs of literacy and thought that I've seen examples of online. I know I sound like a snob--I was raised with a sense of higher expectations, finer subtleties, less tolerance for mere liking and enthusiasm alone. So I think I'm better than most--but at very least I also know good work when I see it, and can separate out the wheat from the chatty/overheated/dryasdust chaff...

Enh, ranting again. I just got back from Ren Faire, and am busily trying to set my artistic agenda to be wisely productive--and (slight)hopefully get enough cash in hand to go once more this year. I feel more free in there than out here IRL, to be who I naturally am and not hold back the drama (such a maligned word these days) and the moody/chivalrous flamboyance. I wound up ditching my doublet and rough trousers because the alterations were not finished in time, and instead did a little...hmm...semi-orthodox improvising, of which we shall have (*gasp*) pictures eventually...salient features besides my black moccasin boots being radically-slashed black jeans over black hose, a quilted black synth-leather winter vest (open and collar flared) over my loose white shirt, spiked black leather wristbands (analyze that if you will!), and a crushable black slouch hat and long black cape with a chained fastening and equal-armed cross hanging therefrom. Plus my two usual pendants strung on the same chain--a bronze Chinese coin and a pentagram--*snort* excuse me, pentacle--with a stag's head.

Not that all of that means anything of course. Not after that dream of being down in a modern subway in full and ideal Ren Faire garb, with hair both longer and a few shades darker--well, if you get my mental pictures, then you probably get some of the patterns of my honour, such as it stands. Obliquely shifting away from answering the question.

Mai l'arte, nel suo mistero....le diverse aspetti insiem' confonde...

Ren Faire is always inspiring, and I intend to ride that momentum firmly. And the more interesting aspects vested therein, I'd say the better...

Because it makes God/gods really fucking frustrated when they're trying to show you they love and care for you through all the worst of things but you just can't seem to take a hint, or two, or three, or a thousand signs of affection.....because it's a slap in the face of agape, philos, and eros to say you lack the guts to take it seriously, or even acknowledge the sight.

Guess I must be a megalomaniac after all, because I think that I am destined to be like a god, admired and feared and worshipped but never actually loved.  Not that I could feel that if it happened, of course--slight defect there...still, I'm not defective in ability to love, and I think I may even overcompensate there in demonstration, just because I don't want to make anyone feel the way I do and have all my life, so disconnected....I don't know, is that grace or merely some vague unnameable guilt that drives me?

I am a raging tiger, a rogue and ravenous wolf.  When pressed or piqued or wounded to the quick, I am ruthless in return, giving as good as I get or much much worse--causing pain is an instinct with me, I know it well enough.  And yet it's not my desire to hurt anyone who merely stumbles....I'm just very - efficient at doing so...the best at what I do, in unpremeditated verbal savagery.

And of course, I need attention, energy, feedback, interaction--assuming one gives a damn for my presence at all.  Otherwise I haven't the energy to "participate" positively, if no one even notices when I'm gone.  I wonder if my friends notice me as much as I notice them...or is this just a stupid musing because everyone can't help noticing me whether they like it or not?  What kind of a force do I show in the world?--what influence, what path, what pressure do I cause?  What change have I made in others, and has it been for the better or not?  I can answer these things theoretically, and yet not believe them...not believe that there is any grace in me, because someone has misunderstood me tragically, and keeps doing so, and won't even take the smallest comforts I would offer freely without fear of being unworthy or obligated beyond their means.  The gods do not want protests of worthlessness when they give gifts--they want their gifts to be accepted, used, made the most of, not ignored...there is no hidden price here, no deep-condemning deal.  Can no one believe that I want the best for them, that I can lay my own desires and needs aside like a winter cloak, can hold myself on ice while trying to make sure that they find what's right for them?  Starvation and honour go ill together, though a fine tale of chivalry they can make, relinquishing love for loyalty..........

I have no irresistible lust in my interpersonal life, no selfish urge that could make me forget and override the bounds of respect between souls.  In order to find my heart and follow it truly, strongly, passionately to possess, to claim, to make my chosen mine without restraint, I should perhaps have to become a beast in truth, that this conscience and circumspection would no longer plague me with its weight.  To quote my current line, honour's a bitch sometimes.

Assuming you think it's honour that drives me after all....

 

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