altariel: (Default)
I promise this will be my last excited breathless jumping-up-and-down-for-joy post, but I really have had the most amazing week, and I still haven't shared all the awesome. There has been so much awesome this week that it's taken me almost the whole week to write about all of it.

So as well as the Monday Feast and the CAPSLOCK CAKE and the whole life beginning at forty business and the fandom anniversary, another AMAZING THING HAPPENED, or rather TWO AMAZING THINGS: my bloomin' friends bought me some original pieces of art by Anke Eissmann.

Yes. Originals.

Wait till you see which ones. I can't link directly, but if you go here, and click on Faramir and Éowyn (1999) and "And so they stood on the walls..." (2004) then you can see which ones (they are seventh and eighth on that page). My icon gives you a little clue.

*falls off chair flailing arms of joy*

If Dwimordene's and Isabeau's fiction inspired me to write about Faramir, then Anke Eissmann's paintings provided the inspiration to write about the Houses of Healing. As you may have worked out, my head isn't very far from that place.

I cannot tell you how beautiful these paintings are up close. I can't believe they've come into my care. I took them to the picture framers yesterday: they had no idea of the source material, but were still wowed by the beauty and skill of the pieces. They are getting black frames with a silver hint to them: very Númenorean! When they come home, I'm going to rebuild the entire house around them.

Anyway, I think I have now told you all the awesome. Though the weekend isn't over yet!
altariel: (Default)
Today is the 10th anniversary of my joining fanfiction.net in pursuit of Tolkien fanfiction. And by gum did I find it. First Dwimordene's astonishing stories about Denethor and Finduilas and Boromir and Faramir, and then I started reading this amazing, exciting, breathtaking, brilliant story by Isabeau of Greenlea about a Ranger of Ithilien called Hethlin, and the Chicken Man (the real hero of the siege of Gondor)... A week or so later I found myself sitting at my desk at the department not much looking forward to seeing my PhD supervisor, and I started scribbling down a few lines in first person that eventually became The Fire Sermon... and then A Game of Chess began to write itself. (The PhD thesis not so much, but that seemed to sort itself out in the end.)

So here's to a DECADE of Tolkien fanficcing, with the best partner-in-crime that a Faramir fangirl could hope for, and the fellowship of so many fabulous people keeping me company on the Road. Some of you have become dear, dear friends, and I couldn't imagine myself without you.

Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet,
Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.

Tree and flower and leaf and grass,
Let them pass! Let them pass!
Hill and water under sky,
Pass them by! Pass them by!

Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run
Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,
Let them go! Let them go!
Sand and stone and pool and dell,
Fare you well! Fare you well!

Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead,
We'll wander back to home and bed.

Mist and twilgiht, cloud and shade,
Away shall fade! Away shall fade!
Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,
And then to bed! And then to bed!
altariel: (Default)
So on Monday night I went out for what was billed as a quiet dinner with some friends who happened to be in town. When I got to the restaurant ALMOST EVERYONE I KNEW was there.

I may have said something a bit sweary at the sight of all these wonderful people, but it was as ever meant in a loving way.

Did I mention I'm turning forty soon? )

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