Letterblade

This photo series is made of concentrated awesome. (NWS for naked boobies.)

No, I didn't see Dogma. But I did, in light of noticing the joys of Alan Rickman's voice in the HP movies (I see so few movies it's sad--bear that in mind) decide to rewatch part of Closet Land, which, by an odd miracle, I have on VHS. And, lo, the voice.

Incredibly well-done movie, but I bailed out about a third of the way through (only watched it once before) because it's incredibly intense, wrenching, horrifying. Not sure of the word I'm looking for here. It also made me worship both Alan Rickman and Madaleine Stowe. And, when it comes to HP dreamcasting, may I nominate the latter as Tom's mother? Gods, the woman is gorgeous.

*continues to worship*

Did some more work on my new piano project, Rachmaninoff's C# minor prelude--bit of a chestnut, but gorgoues--which has some whompin' huge chords in it. My pinky fingers are out of shape and getting tired, because it's been a while since I've played something this demanding, and I'm going to have to cut some notes. On the other paw, I love the piece dearly, and I'm learning it faster than I thought. It shouldn't take too long before I'm able to play the double-staffed part at the end hands-together and without massive fumbling. And it is the first piece I've played with double-staffing.

(That's when there are so many notes being played that, rather than trying to jamn them all onto the normal grand staff (one line of treble, one line of base) used for piano music, the composer makes two grand staffs and links them, and you play all of them at once. In this case, both hands are jumping back and forth, the left hand consistently below the right, so the bottom two line are bass and one contains the lower chords of the left hand and one contains the higher ones; and the top two are trebel and do the same for the right hand. Sounds bloody impressive.)

LJ welcome!

To tyraarane, a.k.a. Ti'ana Katarina, who probably nobody else reading this knows because she's a Myst fandom friend and not an HP fandom or RL friend. But I have finally gotten myself a code to liberate her from uJournal, and there was much rejoicing.

*eyes TK deviously*

Dumbledore!

And I am now poking the existing parts of the second chapter of LoS, with some success. Maybe I'll have more tonight. Not rash enough to promise myself I'll finish it, but...

Submitted Slither and So Sayeth Death ten days ago. They aren't up yet. If they don't show up in tomorrow's Chapter Owls, I'm going to bitch at them. Or rather, write them a nice polite email with the information they want, but that's what happens when Ravenclaws get bitchy.

Will wait on making my style until next weekend, I think. I have some more images I need to make, and planning to do, and such.

Music alert!

For anybody who likes Värttinä, or Scandinavian music in general, or who just wants to hear a damn cool song: go download Sepän Poika at the NorthSide website. Right on the front page; look for the sample tracks from upcoming albums. (Don't know how well that site takes to direct links to mp3s.)

mctabby, I'm stalking you.

darkrosetiger, I've begun work on your smut. I hope it's done by Tuesday; if not, you'll get a raincheck. Bizarre Death Eater sex ahoy.

strange_fire, haven't seen you on AIM recently. Miss you!

cedar85, my apologies for teasing you about your drunk post.

faith_accompli, do I suck slightly less now?

12 pages of Remus/Percy.

The fruits of procrastination and tired muses: the closest thing to a long and systematic review I've written in a long time. Trying to get over my recent review insecurity by blathering way too much about a certain yummy fic. Thinking of doing similar reviews in a similar format for all fics I read that are worth it. And, of course, this is opinionated as hell, and probably somewhat incoherent, especially when it comes to prose styles--an area of writing that I've nowhere near theorized on enough to be coherent.

( Come to think of it, let's put this in a cut link: review of Like the Finest Gold... )

God's Musicians is not as good as Vengeance. this is not to say it isn't good--it would be very hard to match up to Vengeance, as it is God. a wonderful bloody ballad about a werewolf, and a spooky-ambient disturbing setting of a modern Sami poem that threatens to become obssessive listening music are some high points i noticed the first time around. as well as Herr Holger, which i'd already heard, but i was following along with the lyrics and it really packed a wallop.
i think if more egregiously greedy people (read: corrupt CEOs and the like) got beheaded in Copenhagan and then returned as ghouls to tell their wives to give everything to charity because hell is painful, the world would be a far more interesting and possibly more livable place.
Hippjokk was...well, i'd expected it to not be like Karelia Visa, because of the absence of the two wonderful female vocalists (and the Best Bagpipes In The World), and i knew Wimme had collaborated with them on a few tracks, but i wasn't quite sure what else to expect. what i got was an album full of rich, hypnotic, edgy acoustic music. track 3, the bloody medieval ballad about a battle between good and evil, is fucking amazing. i was sitting there on the train with my headphones grinning psychotically the whole time it played. not as familiar with the second half of the album yet.
i still really want Trä, but Hedningarna is God even without the singers.
Groove, the first i have by Hoven Droven, i haven't fully explored yet, but i listened to a few tracks and they were, as i expected, rocking and yay. a jazz trumpet playing Scandinavian fiddle music with a rock background makes me happy.

Vittrad, another album by Garmarna, is on sale this week. i have yet to figure out what i'll order with it, but i think i have the money for another small (under 25) order. i should, with the amount of shitwork i've been doing around here.

in other news, there was Rocky, and i saw Lisa and folks, and Rachel and Pauline and Rafi got devirginized, and it was yay. i got too little sleep, of course. mum's sick and roaming around house in her nightgown and convinced that i'm breaking a hole in the floor.
i ought to stop talking about this music, because nobody who reads my LJ has experienced the yay of this stuff and knows what i'm talking about, but it's what's on my mind, so nyah.


this poem makes me happy. it's by Nils Ferlin, a Swedish poet, and is the lyrics of the last track on this album, "Fiddlers of God."

Where are those men who wandered upon the roads
With gentle eyes so saddened by crime and shame

Small brothers in the dark forests with wolves and snow
Where are those men who march onward towards death

They grimaced only for snowdrifts and cold and arrows
Small brothers in dark forests, wandering mile upon mile

From people's homes and farms were wickedness lies
Who hears their silver bells in the cloudy night?

Where have the brothers and the musicians gone
In the valley they have told me they're still alive

for those of you who know Eva, don't mind the idea of pairing random characters off, want to laugh so hard you have trouble breathing, and are not lisa (who gave me this link in the first place), check out this fic.
for the rest of you, just grok this general concept.
this minimalistic LJ entry brought to you by a way too amused tory.