Jan. 22nd, 2009

myblackeyedfire: (Snape: b&w sweet aching freedom nude)
I don't often post art recs. It isn't that I don't see beautiful things worth sharing. The daily posts of [livejournal.com profile] rus_nature and [livejournal.com profile] alienchildren and [livejournal.com profile] art_links are all fantastic. Art appreciation tends to be quite personal, though, so I try not to deluge this journal with too many "I love this! Look at it! Eet ees pretty!" posts.

Easily the most sure way to leave me in a near-gibbering mess is to combine poetry with art, and do it well. Literal interpretation doesn't interest me much. That's a main issue I have with fan videos, because trying to find clips from films or shows to match exactly what is sung seems to me less of a creative challenge than taking the song and using it more as a theme or guideline.

I first became aware of this when looking at [livejournal.com profile] djinniyah's art. It matches my sense of aesthetics near-perfectly and with the combination of fantastically apt writing guiding the meanings and metaphors, I find myself wanting to take her drawings and live in them. Or roll around in them. Ladle them over myself. Something. Immersion. Ahem. She draws Harry Potter characters with poise and lines and, oh, this is an icon of one of her images and I am terribly in love. The most incredible pieces are locked in her LJ, so if you're so inclined, by all means, go friend her! Otherwise, let me give you a tease.

What I meant to post about is a sixteen-part comic of an alternate reality wizarding world where Draco's actions are shown parallel to Jay Wright's poem, Journey to the Place of Ghosts. It's gritty and time-turning and better than I could have imagined. What must you change to keep what you have lost? Check it out.
myblackeyedfire: (Icarus)
Black sails upon the wine-dark sea;
Black wings that clouded out the day -
No crow or vulture flew ravenous here as they
Tell them who pay me court
Amid the drunkard brawl and glutton snort:
Gather all of your mettle to my sport
This day the bride of Ithaka makes her final choice.
Ah thus I weave the pattern bold
Athene guide me conjure him of old
Let the soul of my summons be the voice.

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