Back from another full day! Seems our days have been and will continue to be fairly busy for the duration of the summer, with the OYAN Summer Workshop in June, the filming of Blades of Honor, and the picking season soon starting on the VanLaar Fruit Farm soon, as well. On top of that all the writing I need to do..... Yeah.
Anyway. Today was the Celtic Fest. It was most enjoyable, actually; held in a Sears Centre about an hour away from where we live. The centre itself was large, but the event, while not neglected, certainly, wasn't super packed, either. We listened to some great Celtic music, got to see a whole bunch of kilts, and listen to random bagpipe music, as well. Rosie and I both got something from the pewter merchant I mentioned in my previous post. I'd been eyeing that Scottish Thistle pendant last time, and the Celtic Knot one caught Rosie's eye. She's always liked rubies. We both had a difficult time deciding what to get.... She found three different pendants she liked, and I had to choose which Scottish Thistle design -- out of three designs there -- I liked the best. We observed, deliberated, conferred, left, and came back again, deliberated a little more, and finally made our choice. Needless to say, the vendors were amused.
Celtic Knot Pendant for Rosie.
One of my other little brothers has been waiting all week since last week to meet this merchant. See, he's somewhat of a strategist and history buff, so when we told him that this merchant had little pewter Revolutionary War figures, he became rather excited. Though he interrogated myself and my Mother thoroughly as to the quality and minute aesthetic detail of these little figurines, neither she nor I had paid much attention to them beyond the fact that they were there and we knew my brother would like them. So he had to wait all week to get to see them himself. A dozen for ten bucks; quite the deal! He has been using the figures since he got them, and is very pleased. He had found a set of ten figures for $25 in another historical merchandise magazine, but Sheldon Pewter obviously gave a much better deal.
All in all, we had a wonderful time. Listening to Celtic music, purchasing some great trinkets, and hanging out with the family, which is always fun. I'll conclude with this video I took of a band playing a really fun reel. I only took a few videos because Pippin and I spent the rest of the time dancing together in the hall. Celtic music simply must be danced to, there's no two ways about it.
If anyone of you who enjoys Celtic things lives in IL around Chicago, do consider going to next year's Celtic Fest. Admission is completely free, there are games for the kids, you can listen to great music, bagpipes, and learn how to play cricket. Now how many of you out there, honestly, have wondered how on Earth cricket is played? I've been watching British telly shows and movies all my life, and I still don't know exactly how it works. My brothers went down to the arena to play about a bit, and they say they've got some of the rules down, so I'm going to have them explain it to me as best they can. It's all baseball over here at my house.
Well, I'm off to bed now. Have to be up early tomorrow to be at church for choir on time. Everyone have a blessed weekend, you hear?
Dia duit,
~Penny
P.S.
At least some of you will be glad to hear that, since I've completed the script for Blades of Honor (did I forget to mention that....?), I will now have time to do a couple more segments of For the Greatest Good. Keep an eye out for them!
My poor blog is still being neglected as it ought not to be. I'm sure I've made all sorts of promises and expectations which are now crumbling like a dry sandcastle. Something I'm sorry for, because I quite like this blog. I wanted it to be more interesting and instructive, really. Helpful.
But alas, it is not so. I'm hoping that warmer weather will help improve things, since I'll be doing things that are much more interesting and far less chilly than I have been lately. This isn't a blog where I write out particulars about my life, either, so blog material has been scarce. The next parts of FtGG will have to be sorted via skype with Dana at some point, because we've run out of finished transcript to copy over. So that will take a short while to do. Then, of course, there have been no Imagination Games due to the weather. And what with writing and all (I've quite the workload, at present) there hasn't been time for research to write a Legend Post.
On the bright side, I'm on my way to publishing a short story of mine. I'll toss a link up here when I do.
So, in the meantime, my long suffering readers will just have to put up with me rambling about Lore. It's the topic that's most on my mind as every chilly day whets my anticipation for warmer weather. My imagination has been considering and scheming, longing to take part in the epic journeys that keep flititng through my mind, and the sheer enjoyment of living those magical adventures alongside the people I love the most.
Morganna Le Fay.
My hair is much shorter,
and I tend to smirk a bit
but I like this picture anyway.
Not too long ago, TSFH released a new album called Skyworld. I listened to it the other day (actually, I bought the whole album. TSFH rocks.) and ran across a song called El Dorado. At that moment I'd been considering one of my villain personas in Lore, Morganna Le Fay, the alchemist half sister to King Arthur, and all the sudden the music and Morganna's persona as I had imagined it meshed. The song continued to play, growing more intense, and images of other villains -- Fafnir, The Red Rider, The Halflings -- coiled into the mix, filled with schemes and edged with danger...
And then..... something else approached. The darkness cursed, as the form of the surpassingly noble hearted St. George lifted his gaze to the scene, and with him came heroes of legend, seared with determination to battle these rogues for not just a treasure, as I'd thought before, but the good of the Lands of Lore themselves.
The song continues, outlining the rapid exchange of fight and scheme, light and dark locked in a grapple for victory, a struggle of greater complexity than imagined as more and more lives are caught into the current of this desperate race.
And so 'El Dorado' has become to me the song that describes The Quest for the Keys of Avalon.
By way of explanation, Avalon, in Lore, is a place that's hidden in another dimension that can only be reached through portals called the Gates of Avalon. These portals are unlocked/created by special devices, known as the Keys of Avalon. The Keys are kept by various Nimues, who are the race of continuous regenerates, most of whom have been alive for quite a long time and are considered somewhat mythological. Also, the Keys are made to look like another object. For example, the Key placed in the posession of The Lady of the Lake is better known as Excalibur, the magificent sword. And again, the mirror owned by Amaterasu is another such Key, and in fact the reciperocating Key that links with Excalibur to unlock the Gates of Avalon.
Avalon is considered such a special place because it is where the very best in all trades are taken to build the most majestic and beautiful things their trade can possibly produce. It's a land of incredible wealth, breathtaking beauty, and untold secrets, much like its underwater sister, Atlantis, which is another story all together.
Being such an amazing place, it's no surprise that villains of all kinds have sought to secure passage into Avalon. And also no surprise that heroes have risen to stop them.
Once upon a time, there lived a valiant
knight named George.This knight had slain a dragon and
gained the hand of a beautiful princess, but alas his promise to serve six
years as knight of the Fairy Queen, his foster mother, called him away until
his dues were honorably paid.
It
came to pass that one day his patroness called him to her throne. Word had
reached her that a dear friend of hers, a woman only known as the Lady of the
Lake, had been driven from her watery home by an evil dragon named Fafnir, who
pursued her capture.Though the queen knew not this
dragon’s reasons, she bade George go forth, find the Lady, protect her, and
slay the dragon. Undaunted, George sallied forth to do as he was instructed.
Thus
George crossed into the Land of Lore, a place where legends meet. At length, he
located The Lady and her trusted handmaiden, Azula, and gave them refuge from
their flight. Upon inquiry, George was told of this terrible dragon that sought
the Lady so zealously. He was Fafnir, the Dragon King, and terrible in body and
heart, worse than any dragon George alone had every set out to slay. Intelligent
as a fox and black hearted with greed, he protected a treasure beyond all save
the treasure of Avalon. The treasure of Avalon, so, was the one he desired so
strongly, and The Lady alone was said to have the key to entering that glorious
city.
Hearing
this, George began to doubt. He alone could not withstand this king, a king who
commanded all his offspring and followers, an army of dragons and dragon
halflings, each almost as black as he. It would be a futile quest.
Furthermore, Fafnir vowed revenge on any who
would attempt such a feat on him, and should he succeed in slaying one who
sought his blood, he would ravage the kingdom from whence the fool came.
Now
George, being in no way arrogant, came to the conclusion that he would require
powerful assistance in order to be successful in his bestowed mission.
Many a time had he heard tales of a warrior
king named Beowulf, who resided in Scotland and had so far been known to have
killed three dragons with the aid of only his sword and famous shield. In that,
George knew he would gain a great ally, so protecting The Lady and Azula,
George came to the land of Lore in which this king resided.
When his plight was explained, Beowulf, having
long since wanted to test his mettle against such a famous dragon, agreed to
assist. However, the one thing that had restrained him from going against such
a foe thus far had been a thing that had halted many a slayer before him; he
knew not where Fafnir dwelled. In this, they looked to The Lady, who informed
them that only two knew the whereabouts of the Dragon King. Merlin, and King
Arthur himself alone posessed such knowledge.
Confident
that their chances of success had been multiplied in the alliance between
George and Beowulf, the two dragon slayers set out for Camelot.
Along
the way they met with two women -- a noble and a gypsy -- who hailed them. One
named herself as Vivian, ward of Morganna Le Fay, who now sought out her end
for helping Merlin steal half of a key to the Gates of Avalon from Le Fay and
attempting to escape with him to the city. Alas, she had been thwarted, and
while she escaped Morganna's wrath, she was unable to reach the portal in time
before it vanished.
Now
she came to find The Lady, who was known to posess the only other key to the
Gates of Avalon, that she may follow and be rejoined with Merlin in Avalon
before Morganna kills her. The key, however, had been hidden at The Lady's home
in the lake, and could nto be reached until Fafnir's end had been obtained.
Therefore,
Vivian, and the gypsy, who proved herself to be a mere storyteller with a
mischevious air but a kind disposition, joined the band. She gave no name. She
was a Brownie, and as such her name could not be pronounced in the human
tongue. She allowed those who wished to name her for their convenience.Now
George and Beowulf willingly accepted the task of protecting all four women, as
their swords alone bore skill, and did so easily as they continued on towards
Camelot.
Their
path drew them through a section of forest, along a well trodden path.
Suddenly from the treetops there dropped a
man clad in lincoln green and a hood covering his head. His longbow drawn back
and his arrow nocked, his keen eye sighting down it with effortlessness
belonging to an expert marksman, this man informed them that were currently
being held up, and that any who wished to oppose this action would be shot by
him or his men.
Brownie associate quickly informed them that
the man with Beowulf's heart in his sights was known as Robin Hood, and he was
every bit as good a shot as the legends said (though not quite as tall as was
told), and also had a band of men who would assist him as he said they would.
However,
Beowulf liked not such insolence, and refused to offer forth his weapon in
surrender.Before an eruction could begin, another figure
appeared from the forest; tall, with a warrior's build and carriage, and wrath
in his countenance. He raised a gleaming sword and called out a challenge to
the two dragon slayers, calling them kidnappers of The Lady they now had under their
protection. Upon this accusation, the archer appeared to withdraw his jovial
daring and drew taut his bowstring. But in the moment that he had been
distracted by the arrival of the newcomer, Beowulf had charged him. Too close
to shoot, the archer dodged within an instant, escaping the slayer's blade.
The other warrior came for The Lady, and
George, fired with a noble anger, rushed to the conflict to protect his charge
from harm.
The
man fought with skill George could not have attributed to an outlaw, famous or
no, and did his best to withstand. Beowulf found a match in his own opponent,
who had lived in the greenwood far long enough to have learned to use it to his
advantage in a fight.
All at once the Lady's cries fell upon the
ears of the fighters. She called for them to cease immediately, and gave a name
to the man George had engaged: Arthur. At the sound of it, the tall man paused,
and George caught his breath, ready to fight again should this be a false
alarm.
The
Lady came up behind George, and to the tall warrior. The man's countenance of
anger faded, and his sword abated its ready position. He called to Robin,
shouting for him to stay his own blade. The Lady hastily told George that the
man before them was none other than King Arthur, and George gave urgent cry to
his fellow dragon slayer to keep from decapitating the outlaw.
At
the pause in the conflict, The Lady placed herself in a peaceful position
between the two opposing lines, and gave an account of what had transpired up
to the present time. As the tale progressed, both lines relaxed, and George
dropped to one knee and apologized profusely to the legendary king.
When
she concluded, Robin Hood invited them to dinner, and the group proceeded to a
camp that had been previously set up by both the outlaw and the king. In their
company around the fire there were two more women to add to the enterouge, who
were introduced as a young woman named Belle, and another named Scarlet, who
wore a cape and hood to match her name. Scarlet was related as a Wulver, a
shape shifter who could assume the form of a wolf. The other, a princess from a
nearby land who had learned the art of dragon taming. This, obviously, the
dragon slayers regarded dubiously.
Once around the fire and being informed that
Robin was, in fact, alone, and had successfully halted the band single handedly
-- something he took great amusement in -- The Lady asked Arthur to relate to
them the tale of how he and his company had come to join.
Robin
answered, at the king's bidding, and informed them that Fafnir had recently
come and wreaked havoc over his lands, especially Locksley. Although he had
retired as an outlaw since King Richard had been restored to the throne, he
donned his old uniform and set out to teach this dragon a lesson. He learned
soon enough what a daunting task he'd undertaken, and sought out King Arthur
for advice, as he knew also the location of the dreaded beast.
Arthur
took up the tale at this point, and from Robin, who has a habit of talking to
the lowly in rank and learning local gossip, as that had been a tool for
survival in his outlaw days, learned that The Lady had been captured. Assuming
she was taken by Fafnir, he enlisted Robin to help him rescue the maid from the
Dragon, if she were indeed his captive. Along the way, they aquired a guide,
the Wulver, Reeve, and a dragon tamer, who would serve well in securing their
safe passage to Fafnir's cave itself through all the Dragon King's minions.
Now, however, that The Lady was safe, they
willingly retasked. Together with those present, they would seek out, reach,
and slay Fafnir once and for all, risking life and limb and safety of kingdom
to rid Lore of its worst blight. It was also agreed that along the way, The
Lady would meet with her cousin, Amatarasu, who bore the other half to the key
The Lady owned that would open the Gates of Avalon.
Thus
the band set out, their talents together more than legend can do justice.
As you now know, the simple, if difficult, task of slaying Fafnir and saving Avalon once and for all isn't going to turn out to be as simple as they thought. With other villains such as the vengence bent Morganna, and the mysterious Red Rider, and conflicts even with their own band, the adventure is going to become one of far greater magnitude, and their quest one of far greater importance.
Today we're going to do something a little more Asian. This song is soft and sorrowful, with threads of wistful longing to speak of something forever lost, or the price paid to gain a greater good.
And so I ressurrect once again to write a long overdue blog post. Today's music is a piece that hints of hope for freedom that is then hunted by an powerful opposing force trying to tear that dream asunder.
I just finished recording this song, Will Ye Go Lassie Go, and posted it to youtube. It's not the best version I've done, as the microphone I like was having issues at the time I recorded this. But I wanted to record it, so I just did it anyways.
So there's your Friday music. In case it starts to drive you mad, yes, the picture is in fact moving.
Man, writing 'Saturday Legend Post' looks so weird.
Anyway, I found a fun site that has a bunch of short blips on Korean Myths. I'm poking through it to find some of the more interesting -- and less strange -- ones to put up here. I personally have always found myths to be interesting. I used to love Greek and Egyption mythology, though now the blatant immorality annoys me enough to make me less of a fan as I might have been. Bible stories are exciting enough, anyways, and also true.
Anyway, I still like looking thorugh myths now and then. Mythology really does give one significant insight to the culture and mindset of the people who created these myths in the first place. I and my family lived in Korea for a couple of years, and I've been doing a lot of British, Scottish, and Irish legends already, so I decided to hop over to the Land of the Morning Sun for a bit.
Dragon Carp In Korean mythology, a poor fisherman once caught a gigantic carp but he set it free when it begged for mercy. Later it turned out the be the son of the Dragon-King, the ruler of the Ocean, who rewarded the fisherman richly. Carps are revered in Japan and Korea as the symbol of youth, bravery, perseverance, strength, and self-defense; all qualities much admired, especially in warriors. The Koreans also regard it as a symbol of wealth. The Dragon Carp lived for a thousand years.
Samseong Myth This myth tells of the first settlement on Cheju Island, located off the southern coast of the Korean Peninsula. In the beginning, before any people roamed the land, three demi-gods (Yangeulla, Koeulla, Pueulla) emerged from the ground. They wandered through the land and hunted, making clothes from the skins and subsisting on the meat. One day they discovered a large wooden chest on the eastern shore of the island. They opened up the chest and a messenger wearing a purple robe and red belt emerged. Also in the chest was a stone box, and inside were three girls wearing blue clothing, a calf, a colt, and the five grains (barley, rice, soybean, foxtail millet, and millet; in Korean folk literature these five grains represent all of agriculture). The messenger announced that they had been sent from Byeongnang (some sources indicate that the messenger and girls came from Japan, which makes geographical sense). The king of that land had sent the girls to be the brides of the three demi-gods. After delivering his message, the messenger returned to his land on a cloud. The threedemi-gods each married and went their separate ways, founding each their own village.
Tangun The legendary founder of the first Korean kingdom, Old Choseon, in 2333 BCE near modern P'yeongyang. His full name was Tangun Wanggeom, which is actually more of a title than a name; Tangun means "high priest" and Wanggeom means "king," symbolizing the spiritual and political power invested in the ruler. His father was Hwanung, son of Hwanin, emperor of heaven, and his mother was a bear who had been transformed into a woman. It has been speculated that the bear-woman transformation story indicates that the woman was from a bear totem clan. On a more symbolic level, though, the bear's passing of the test shows how highly early Koreans valued perseverance. It was not the strength and impetuosity of the tiger that helped the Korean people resist attacks from both China and Japan, but the determination and perseverance of the bear.
Heo Hwangok First Queen of Kaya. According to legend, while Hwangok was a princess in Ayuta (in central India) she had a dream of King Suro. In her dream she learned that Suro had not yet found a queen, and both her parents agreed that she should go and become Suro's bride. She arrived in Kaya on a ship with a red sail and red flag, bearing treasure and gifts. When she was presented to the king she told him of her dream and the king knew immediately that this was heaven's chosen bride for him. They were married immediately, and the queen was greatly loved by all the people.
So, yeah. This was expected. I'm way swamped with writing, and the minor stress is eating at my creativity. Yet, I'm too stubborn to let go of all the projects yet. If it comes to that, so be it, but it hasn't yet. I just need to get a schedule figured out.
First change is going to be that I'm going to turn Thursday Legend Post into Saturday Legend Post. Friday Music will either be on Friday or combined with the Legend Post on Saturday.
FtGG will be the once a month sporadic thing. Hopefully y'all can handle major cliffhangers.
Anyway, just figured I'd say that. I don't have hardly any idea who actually reads this blog, but I do still feel kinda responsible for making sure things don't get boring. As soon as I get my notebook back, as well, I'll be posting the dimensions for some of the various new PVC swords Percy has made, including a rapier, and a Land Between Time weapon called a lance-blade, invented by Dana.
And so I prove once again how terrible I am at keeping any sort of schedule. The downside of innate flexibility. I missed last week's music post, and only just barely cobbled together a Legend Post the day before. In my defense, I was actually busy last week trying to develop a story for a job assignment. So I'm combining Friday Music and Thursday Legend Post in one, on Saturday.
First for the legend. I started a Legend Post last night about the claymore and scian dubh, two Scottish weapons. But that was because I was tired and didn't feel like trying to pull together a post on a legendary person. I ditched that and figured I might as well write about Red Hugh O'Donnell.
Great Scotch, look at those waves...
Percy, Seph, Rosie, Pippin, and I were singing Celtic songs in the kitchen earlier today and we sang two songs about this particular Irish military commander. One was O'Donnell Abu, most commonly known as to have been sung by the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem.
Proudly the note of the trumpet is sounding Loudly war cries arise on the gale! Fleetly the steed of lough Swilly is bounding To join the six squadrons on Saimer's green vale! On every nmountaineer, strangers to flight or fear, Rush to the standard of dauntless Red Hugh. Banaught to Gallowglass, throng from each mountainpass, Onward for Erin, "O'Donnell Abu!"
And then there's the Donegal Song by Phil Coulter and Aoife NÃ Fhearraigh (don't ask me to pronounce that): If these stones could speak, what a tale they'd tell, Of the heroes and chiefs of Tyrconnell. Of the battles fought, the wonders wrote, And the glories of Red Hugh O'Donnell.
So who is this Red Hugh person, anyways? Well, put simply, he was an Irish rebel, quite a thorn in the side of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth I of England. He's also the only person, along with two companions, to ever successfully escape English occupied Dublin Castle.
And he did it at age 19.
He's said to have been a proper Irish flame, with hair to match; a valiant spirit and visionary thinking.
"It was to Doe thatInghean Dubh, wife of
Hugh Roe O'Donnell, sent her teenage son,
Red Hugh, to be trained in the arts:
literature, music, swordsmanship, endurance, horsemanship and indeed all such
educational pursuits as befitted a young Irish prince. Strangely, the
personality of Red Hugh seems to have survived the centuries, bestowing on his
memory the near-magical qualities of CuChulain
and Fionn MacCumhail. This enchantment is
something impossible to define, but perhaps more than anything else, it is the
idealism they lived for - and their readiness to fight for - that has captivated
the hearts of a nation. To prevent an alliance between the O'Donnell and O'Neill clans, Red Hugh lured, tricked, and captured by British troops at the age of fifteen, and imprisoned in Dublin Castle. There it's said he was sorely mistreated for three years before he managed to escape." [exerpt taken from http://www.finnvalley.ie/history/odonnells/redhugh.html]
Now, I read something about a betrayal that led to O'Donnell's recapture, but for the life of me I cannot find the reference again. Oh well...
At any rate, it was back to prison with Hugh. However, the very next year, he and two companions -- two brothers, Art and Henry O'Neill -- escaped Dublin Castle for good.
"They descended by a rope through a sewer which opened into the castle ditch; and leaving there the soiled outer garments, they were conducted by a young man, named Turlough Roe O'Hagan, the confidential servant or emissary of the Earl of Tyrone, who was sent to act as their guide. Passing through the gates of the city, which were still open, three of the party reached the same Slieve Rua which Hugh had visited on the former occasion. The fourth, Henry O'Neill, strayed from his companions in some way—probably before they left the city—but eventually he reached Tyrone, where the earl seized and imprisoned him. Hugh Roe and Art O'Neill, with their faithful guide, proceeded on their way over the Wicklow mountains toward Glenmalure, to Feagh Mac Hugh O'Byrne, a chief famous for his heroism, and who was then in arms against the government. Art O'Neill had grown corpulent in prison, and had beside been hurt in descending from the castle, so that he became quite worn out from fatigue. The party were also exhausted with hunger, and as the snow fell thickly, and their clothing was very scanty, they suffered additionally from intense cold. For awhile Red Hugh and the servant supported Art between them; but this exertion could not long be sustained, and at length Red Hugh and Art lay down exhausted under a lofty rock, and sent the servant to Glenmalure for help. With all possible speed Feagh O'Byrne, on receiving the message, dispatched some of his trusty men to carry the necessary succor; but they arrived almost too late at the precipice under which the two youths lay. 'Their bodies,' say the Four Masters, 'were covered with white-bordered shrouds of hailstones freezing around them, and their light clothes adhered to their skin, so that, covered as they were with the snow, it did not appear to the men who had arrived that they were human beings at all, for they found no life in their members, but just as if they were dead.' On being raised up, Art O'Neill fell back and expired, and was buried on the spot; but Red Hugh was revived with some difficulty, and carried to Glenmalure, where he was secreted in a sequestered cabin and attended by a physician." [exerpt from somewhere I lost the link to. Yes, I be unhappy about that.]
Red Hugh O'Donnell, who later went on to lead much of the Nine Years War against England, is the only person along with his two companions to ever have escaped Dublin Castle. And he did it not once, but twice, and both before he even turned twenty. Kind of an inspiration for us young folk, eh?
Now for the song:
This is the Donegal Song I mentioned above. It's a haunting, reminiscent tune that turns into a rhythmic remembrance of glories past complete with a bagpipe solo.
I get the feeling that this post has been rushed and hashed together, which often happens when I write about historical events. If I've gotten something wrong and you're Irish, I apologize. Feel free to leave me a comment so I can fix it. I like to get things right, but I don't often succeed. For all the rest of you, don't take my word as gospel. If you are interested in really getting to know the history behind all this, then I would suggest doing some research of your own just to be sure you get the facts surely straight.
That said, I hope you liked the post, anyways. This is probably the longest legend post I've written, so if you get all the way down to here, congratulations! You're awesome. ^.^
So we made it back home safe and sound after almost a month of vacation. It would seem appropriate to give a dissertation on what has been going on while my blog was so sadly neglected, so I'll give a brief dialogue on it.
As the last post suggests, we spent the first week playing imagination games. On the second week, I, Percy, Seph, Dana, Bob, and Ani had the privilage of attending the OYAN Summer Workshop/Reunion. Saying it was amazing seems inadequate by tenfold at least! The blessings and lessons we learned could not even begin to fit on a single page.
Seph and I and another OYANer looking over song lyrics.
One part I particularly enjoyed -- the awesome lectures by Mr. S, Jeff Gerke, Mark Wilson, and others aside -- was Celtic Day. On Wednesday of the Workshop week, as many as wanted dressed in something Scottish or Irish themed. I and the PenKnights all wore a medieval outfit, and Dana wore his kilt and beret. Ani wore her Korean Hanbok instead of a medieval dress, though, because hers didn't get made in time. We looked rather spiffy, if I do say so myself.
In the afternoon, and that evening, all of us involved in Celtic Day had a jam session. Pennywhistles, violins, a guitar, a bodhran, and even a cello, plus all the excellent voices lent to two truly amazing performances of Celtic folk music and hymns. One of the things I love so much about Celtic music is that it has a magical way of bringing people together. None of us had ever played or sung together before in our lives, and yet we still played and sang the simple Celtic melodies well enough to put angels to shame. The music left everyone smiling with gladness in their hearts, and that evening sent me to bed glowing inside for the beauty of people coming together and just having honest fun with music and dance.
I can say without a doubt that the entire OYAN Workshop experience was an incredible blessing, and it has undoubtedly changed my life in many ways that I haven't even noticed yet. There is a revolution going on in the realm of Christian writing, and I got to meet and be a part of the next generation of storytellers who will change the world. God is doing great things, and the future is actually looking like an exciting place, now.
The third week! Ah, the third week. Thirty people in one house. We all stayed at, I shall say, the MacDonald place in Maryland. All three of our large families living practically on top of each other for a whole week straight. It was great! Good thing I don't mind doing dishes. There were dishes to do. A lot of dishes.
A lot of dishes.
Anyway, the fun part was that Bob had written a script and gotten a new amazing stupendous camera. Movie time! We filmed a whole movie -- fully choreographed fight scenes, brilliant costumes sewn by Lynn and Lynnae, better acting that in our previous two movies, and some pretty neat props that included a passle of PVC pipe swords made especially for this occasion -- called A Heart of Corruption. It was a learning experience in and of itself to make this movie, as we've never done one with this ammount of consecutive dialogue, complex plot, that many actors, or over that many days in a row. (I believe it took three days in all to get all the shots needed.) Bob had a little bit of a hard time because he was director this time instead of me, so he had to learn to deal with the pressures that come with that position. I told him to come up with five things he learned over the course of filming before I and my family left, and here's what he said:
1. Patience
2. Flexibility
3. Not to work with small children (or animals) if possible
4. Time management
5. Never give up
Isn't that an excellent list? I'm very proud of him. You did an amazing job, Bobby my boy, even if you don't agree. I'm very proud of you!
And thus with very teary eyes and many hugs, the three of our families parted ways at the end of an amazing three weeks of friendships and many, many lessons learned. Leaving the MacDonald house, I had the strangest feeling. Even though the three weeks had come to an end, it felt good; like a relief. Not because I was tired of them, quite the contrary, I miss them very much even now. No, a relief because we'd made it. Months and months of praying, several close calls, numerous doubts, and God allowed us to have those three weeks together. I don't know if there's any way I can express to God how grateful I am to Him for allowing us to have that time together. So, so many things had to go right, so many 'coincidences' had to happen, in order for this vacation to have even been considered, and God put everything right in line for us one after the other from start to finish. He led us all the way through to the end, and now it's safe in our memories forever. Forever! Do you know how long that is? That's until the day we die, and even beyond.
My friends -- you know who you are -- I love you all more than I could say or show. You're all awesome, and I mean that in every sense of the word.
My God -- you certainly know who you are -- I love you more than I'm capable of even feeling. I will serve you all my days, and in your name I will wield my sword and pen for as long as I inhabit this Earth, and still then after that.
To all who read this blog -- yes, you there -- may God keep you strong and bless you and yours for all the days of your life!
You know, one of these times I'm going to forget which number I'm on. I'm terrible with numbers.
Anyway, today is a double feature because of my brilliant indecision. I've posted two inspiring, heroic songs, and figured it was time for a little variety. But then I found another really cool inspiring, heroic song! Instead of being patient and picking one over the other, I decided, what the world? Just post both of them.
The first one is called The Swashbuckler and Fair Maiden, by Future World Music. This one is daring, energetic, and cocky right from the start, with a little section in there that I would assume represents the maiden that is enchanting before the song's explosive climax.
Okay, so here's the one that I originally intended to post. Unlike the Swashbuckler and Fair Maiden, Battle for Honor by SelecTracks has a more serious feel to it. There is a determined beat, inspiring melody, with an undertone of tension that suggest our brave heroes may not make it out alive, but a choir overlay that seems to reveal a sliver of hope for survival if they hurry.
Today is also Percy's birthday. Happy birthday, brother!
Honorable Objective by Epic Score is one of my absolute favorite songs. It combines action, emotion, and valor all in one with a compelling rhythmn and adventurous choir.
I adore music. Music is awesome. It sets the mood for any atmosphere needed. Every Friday I'll post trailer music or an OST track here on my blog. I just decided. This one I found is on the epic side of things that I might use for one of our slideshows.
