My lampwork beadmaking instructor finally resumed our local classes, after a summer hiatus for him to go teach intensive day/week-long sessions elsewhere. I think I've managed to recover most of the basic grokkage from the spring classes about working with hot glass (no major injuries yet yay), but I'm still having trouble broaching technical discussions with him about how to do certain things.
Part of this is the sheer orthogonality of approaches-- I have a fair amount of theoretical geekage on the subject, but don't know how it translates into practical working conditions; he has a great deal of experience and skill with the hands-on stuff, but not nec'ly much knowledge of why it happens.
(And also, I am a big geek with no conversational skills. Case in point: we all get to wear didymium safety lenses, since they screen out certain colors and make it easier to see what's going on inside the flame. He reminded someone that their regular sunglasses wouldn't do for this purpose, and we had to wear the didymium lenses, whatever dydimium was. I incautiously infodumped that didymium was a mixture of the two different rare-earth elements neodymium and praseodymium, which might explain why the neodymium-based "lavender" glass looked colorless when seen through the lenses, and that neo-lavender looked blue under the fluorescent working lights but purple under incandescent lights and sunlight, and then I ran out of infodump. Crickets chirped. I slunk down in my chair, resumed melting glass, and waited a few minutes for the normal conversations to resume around me.)
But I've also realized that though I had a lot of small bits and pieces of knowledge about glass color chemistry, it didn't really fit into a coherent theoretical framework-- I could chirp out factoids about opaque/translucent glass containing fluoride compounds, but didn't know why/how they turned the glass opaque instead of simply changing its color. (And I had a total abject fail when suddenly asked to explain what colloids were. "They're a mixture of stuff... with other stuff?" *bzzzt*)( Read more... )
So instead, I've ended up working out two pieces (for "piece" = necklace and matching earrings) of color-coded emotional dyadic symbolism; I've mostly tried to base the color linkages on English-language idioms, but they're bound to be somewhat idiosyncratic (frex blue <- healing <- the Virgin Mary's robes? is the only way I've managed to rationalize that one).
The blue one is sorrow/healing, with teardrop shapes and freshwater pearls; pearls are formed around a core of pain, but the mollusc uses that to form something precious and beautiful.
The yellow one is fear/hope, with long rounded tubes to resemble a draped yellow ribbon and some transformational play with little lemon-shaped beads-- they first appear as single drops, in obviously lemony format; they then combine with other beads to form a sort of stylized bee; and finally in the centerpiece, the lemons form the petals of a flower. I've probably overthought the symbolism, but there's sort of a double idea of lemons/lemonade and bees/honey. It might be one of those things that requires too much explanation, though.
So now I'm pushing around various red beads, with a general idea of double-edged passion: love and/or violence. There are some odd little drops I'd like to use that resemble a closed fist-- I have no idea what their original cultural context was, but they seem like a possible good match (and the only thing I've ever been able to work them into was a notional nod to the goddess Kali's hula skirt of severed hands). Or if I can find more conventional teardrop-shaped drops in red (they're probably around here somewhere), they could probably undergo transformations in a similar way to the lemon, from individual blood drops to clustered flower buds or pomegranate seeds etc.).
So that would complete a red/yellow/blue triad of primary colors, but I'm still curious about finding a similar emotional dyad for green; "jealousy" would be one obvious starting point, or perhaps a more general sense of "possession/acquisitiveness" if material greed is also folded in-- but what would be a good oppositional emotion that's also associated with green? If the "green" holistic/global movement is taken into account, perhaps a dichotomy between selfishness and... um... I'm not sure how to articulate its opposite in this context; taking account of the effects of one's own actions on other people? "Generosity/harvest" would be easier to describe, but doesn't quite feel right to me :|
On the guess that Shinta's family might've been hinin-caste hidden Christians, that would probably place them somewhere near Nagasaki, which is in Nagasaki Prefecture on the west of Northern Kyushu. Wikipedia (yeah, I know) currently states in its "akane" article that "[t]he original Hinomaru flag was dyed from using madder from Akane town in Fukuoka Prefecture", although this isn't backed up by the main "Flag of Japan" article-- and so far I'm not seeing any other refs to the *existence* of a so-called "Akane town" in the region. *headdesk* ( Read more... )
Addenda: some interesting book leads, though I'll have to figure out how to request most of them through interlibrary loan unless I can find affordable copies (except for the Whelan, AddAll can't find anything less than $100)--
Higashibaba Ikou. Christianity in Early Modern Japan: Kirishitan Belief and Practice.
Turnbull, Stephen. >The Kakure Kirishitan of Japan: A Study of Their Development, Beliefs and Rituals to the Present Day
ibid. Japan's Hidden Christians, 1549-1999
Whelan, Christal (translator). The Beginning of Heaven and Earth: The Sacred Book of Japan's Hidden Christians.
Ruby glass owes its red color to the presence of colloid gold. I show you three specimens which are "solid solutions" of gold in three very different and characteristic degrees of dispersion (demonstration). The first is an almost clear and but slightly yellow mass of glass. This is obtained immediately after dissolving the solid gold salt in the glass. There is obtained in this way a molecularly dispersed solution of the gold in the glass, and one which, in consequence, is ultramicroscopically empty. The second preparation is the ordinary ruby glass in which the gold is contained in a colloid state. The third specimen is deep blue by transmitted light and orange brown by reflected light. The specimen is also distinctly turbid. It springs from a failure in glass manufacture in that, presumably through a too long heating of the glass, a coagulation of the red gold particles to the more coarsely dispersed blue particles has taken place — just such a change as I showed you in an aqueous dispersion medium when I coagulated the red gold (produced through reduction of gold chlorid by tannin) to blue gold through the addition of acid. These same facts as illustrated in the case of glass prove of what little importance is the kind of dispersion medium and how much depends upon the degree of dispersion in determining the variations in color in this substance.
: Different specimens of gold ruby glass were kindly placed at my disposal by POPPER AND SONS of New York
No illos, alas, but "Popper and Sons" still appears to be in operation; I wonder if they'd have any records/samples of what they sent to this guy?
(sunlight) neo-alex faceted rounds and neo-orchid centerpiece bits: purple; Swarovski cantaloupe bicones: reddish-grey; uranium glass: various pastels (small aqua rounds, frosted green/pink octahedra, seafoam-givre triangles and centerpiece dagger drop).
(incandescent) neo-alex and neo-orchid: purple; Swarovski: pale red; uranium glass: various pastels.
(fluorescent) neo-alex: ice-blue; neo-orchid: purple; Swarovski: green; uranium glass: various pastels.
(near-UV LED) uranium glass: lime-green glow; everything else: dark, except for random reflections.
Total length 19", Czech glass + Swarovski lead crystal on GSP, sterling silver endcaps/clasp.
I got some of these in a mixed lot earlier this summer, and had never seen them before; didn't realize they were a variety of neo-alex glass until after I'd roughly sorted the mixed lot by color, and then changed the light source on them: they're petal-pink in some lights and pale lilac in others, as well as having the usual pale opal-glass shift in undertones depending on light/dark backgrounds. I'll have to keep this color code (21210) in mind, though so far I haven't found a "real" listing for them among my usual suppliers (I don't have order access to the company associated w/ that blog).
Meanwhile, finally located my "real" UV LED again; need to retake some pix from a batch a while back that I'd taken w/ the borderline UV/violet light-- easier to juggle w/ the camera, but tends to wash out the glow from non-transparent uranium glass toward white rather than green; the glow from manganese glass also tends to disappear into the violet. Also want to haul out some of my neglected green fluorite beads to mix in with those, now that I know about their spectacular indigo glow; there's also a small strand of yellow/green colorblend beads from Michael's that glows *yellow* under UV, and under initial bead-jumble conditions looks great with ffp jonquil/aqua.
The name of the Aoiya, the Kyoto inn run by the remnants of the Oniwabanshuu, is written 葵屋, as shown by two different placards at the bottom of page 152 in volume 9; like the similar signs in front of the Akabeko and Shirobeko, the original horizontal layout uses the "reversed" right-to-left order that was common before WWII or so. It does not use the same ao kanji as Shinomori Aoshi's name 四乃森 蒼紫, as shown on pp 78 and 80 of the "Profiles" book in modern left-to-right order. ( snipped for excessive blather )
From a list of traditional season-marking phrases for haiku:
雪代 yukishiro, snowmelt runoff (mid spring)
(Aha-- I think that my previous encounter with this was on this other list, which doesn't include the kanji; now I don't feel quite so dumb. Mostly. Ook.)( Read more... )
Asian quincunx: earth, wood, fire, and metal, and water
Western quartet: fire, air, water, and earth
(sometimes this set also quincunxes with the central addition of spirit.)
From this point on, forget about the metaphysical stuff. You may have noticed I changed my virtual crayon for "water" between the two lists, which I rearranged into the chromatic order given in an older post: ( Read more... )
As a quick'n'dirty summary, the common Western system based on Gardnerian Wicca is oriented (oriens, rising) toward the east, the direction of sunrise. The traditional symbols ended up carrying over from Tarot to modern card suits, although sometimes Air and Fire swap gear with each other. ( Read more... )
By constrast, Chinese astronomy was based on equatorial observation toward the south. I have no idea why, since they were familiar with the North Star and had special names for the nearby constellations, but there it is. And while the Chinese zodiac has twelve signs, there's no direct correspondence with the twelvefold Western zodiac because of different timeframes and nonfixed elements: counterintuitively, while the Western "solar" signs change on a monthly basis, the Asian "lunar" signs change yearly; while the Western signs are inherently attached to certain elements, all twelve Asian signs rotate through a five-element system to create a sixty-year macrocycle. ( Read more... )