And Another Doodle

This is for Gina, who is very complimentary about my sketches, and also for Bella, who is tired of my post on the Battle of the Bridge of Stirling - a wee 18th century Highland Jacobite, complete with a white rose, to show where her allegiance lies:

Highlanders of this period wore the tartan as part of their regular clothing. Men generally wore a feile mor, or great plaid, which was the precursor of the modern kilt. A feile mor would be pleated, (or kilted to use the old word) and belted at the waist, with a long bit leftover, which could be used for a cloak, but which was generally pinned at the shoulder to keep it out of the way. Women did not wear a feile mor. Nor did they wear those dresses consisting of a lace-up bodice, and a full plaid skirt, which one often finds for sale in Renaissance clothing catalogues. No, what Highland women had was an arisaid, a great cloak of tartan material, worn over their dresses, often pinned at the neck, and belted at the waist, much as this young lady is wearing hers. Unmarried ladies also generally wore a little band of ribbons in their hair, and if you look closely, you can see that I put that in as well... Yes, I am aware of the technical flaws in the sketch, but I am still rather pleased with how it turned out.

On This Day In History...

in 1297, the army of the great Scottish patriot, William Wallace, defeated the English at the Bridge of Stirling. It was a decisive victory, which went a long way to cement Scottish resistance against the English invaders. A good, brief account of the life of Wallace, and the battle can be found here.

William Wallace has always been a hero of mine, and on my first trip to Scotland, I had the good fortune to stay in a room that provided a glimpse of the River Forth, and I had to cross the Bridge to get up to the town of Stirling. The current Bridge is not the same one that the Battle was fought on, but I was still in my element.

There is a song called Stirling Brig which narrates the battle from the Scottish perspective. The Corries do a good version of it:

What Else Would I Draw?

I have only posted a couple of my own pictures on this blog so far, and both times they have been piper pictures. I draw a lot of pipers. I also almost always draw people in profile, so I have been challenging myself to draw from other angles as well - or so I fancy. However, looking at my more recent piper sketches, I notice with some puzzlement (since I always start thinking, I am going to try something diffent this time and genuinely believe that is what I am doing) that my go to position for pipers is a 3/4 view from the back. Very preturbing that. I had no idea I was doing that. However, to prove that I am capable of producing something besides 3/4 view pipers, here is a little sketch, inspired somewhat by the story, Peter Kagan and the Wind.

He's Pixelated....

A couple days ago, I saw an old Gary Cooper movie, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town. I had never seen it before, and quite thoroughly enjoyed it. Gary Cooper, in the title role, plays the part of a somewhat eccentric young man, who comes unexpectedly into money, and whose native decency and straightforward simplicity are frequently mistaken for dim-wittedness by the more cynical and sophisticated men who try to ingratiate themselves with the newly-minted millionaire. The storytelling is solid, the protagonists sympathetic, and like many films from this period, there is a moral to the story, but one which is charmingly told, and therefore satisfying. I am ashamed to say, however, what sticks with me the most is a scene near the end, in which two little old ladies from Mr. Deeds' home town are called in to vouch for his character, and their solemn verdict is that he is "pixelated".  I thought I had mis-heard at first, but the words is said several times, and there is no mistaking it, Mr. Deeds is "pixelated". A short time later, the word is explained to be an early American word meaning that the pixies have gotten him; that he is, in fact, "barmy".

Well now, this was very interesting indeed. Up until that moment, pixelated had existed in my vocabulary merely as a word describing what happens to a small digital picture when you try to print it out far bigger than it wants to be. It turns in to a lot of little squares. It is pixelated. And yet, here is a movie, seventy years old or better, and there is the word with an entirely different meaning. I was intrigued. and I looked it up. It took a few tries to find a source that dug any deeper than the film for the origin of the word, but I came across a very fine site called The Word Detective, which features an interesting little article about the word's origin and history. It is a quick read, and well worth the time. I must say I am quite taken with the word, and am much inclined to re-instate the use of the word pixelated in its original and rather poetic meaning.

And here, for a chuckle, is the scene in question, which some joker has cleverly doctored:

I Emerge

My devoted followers - here meaning a pair of young sisters - are beginning to grumble about the lack of attention with which I am treating this blog. I have been feeling quite guilty about it for a while, and I apologise. What can I say? It has been One of Those Years. When 2012 came in, I stayed up til midnight, and greeted it with open arms and whisky, and in return, it has given me a good deal of bother. When January 1st comes round again, I shall wait for the stroke of midnight, not so much to welcome in the year 2013, but to be sure that 2012 is properly dead and buried.

In order to keep this blog from atrophying entirely, I am posting a little sketch I did recently, when I found myself unexpectedly at loose ends, and with very little at hand for helping to pass the time. I did what I generally do when I discover myself in such straights, and began doodling. The doodle turned out rather better than I expected, especially in view of the fact that the #2 pencil I was using was badly in need of sharpening. I still had some time to kill, so I cast about for some means of colouring the sketch. I had nothing in the line of art supplies handy, and so made do with an elderly red, fine point Sharpie; a green, felt-tip pen which was also getting on in years; a pen which laid down a very fine, albeit rather watery blue line in ink which the pen itself proudly informed me was "super ink" and good for signing documents; and a black gel pen. The result is as below - a piper. What else would I be drawing?

For Greater Glory

As I have mentioned before, I have been very excited about this movie, ever since I first hear rumours of it being made. However, I live in a place that rarely shows limited release, independent films, so I did not figure on getting to see it until it came out on DVD. It must be doing much better than expected, because it appeared in the local theater late last week, and my sisters and I, astonished, but terribly glad, took ourselves off to see it on Monday.

I must say I was very impressed by it. I am not going to do a review on it, since there are a great number of them about at present, written either by folk - mostly professional critics - who hated it; or by those who were deeply moved and inspired by it. I do not think I have read a single indifferent review. No, I intend to highlight a few of the things that particularly impressed my with For Greater Glory, which I do not recall seeing mentioned anywhere else.

 - Obviously, this is a very Catholic movie, which is unusual enough in our day and age, and it is Catholic on various levels. There is the usual Catholic imagery, which is reasonably common in both movies and TV programs. Most of the main characters are Catholics, and their faith is portrayed in a straightforward and respectful manner. This is not so common, particularly in movies that are considered "intelligent". Still, it is not so uncommon as to deserve more than a mention of it. What is particularly striking about For Greater Glory, at least to my way of thinking, is that it portrays commitment to the Faith, not as a cause, or an idea, but as a fundamental way of life. These people are not just practicing Catholics. They are Catholics. It defines them. Furthermore, all the main characters who are not Catholics, are gradually drawn towards the Faith, so that in the end, regardless of what sort of lives they might have lived before, or what sort of doubts they have been struggling with, at the vital moment that matters, they come down firmly on the side of Cristo Rey. And this is done, for the most part, without much discussion. One merely sees the Cristeros attending Mass, receiving the Sacraments, and fighting to the death for what they believe. It is attractive, and inspiring.

 - I like the fact that the movie portrays various aspects of the Catholic resistance movements. At the beginning of the movie, after President Calles has vowed to enforce the viciously anti-Catholic laws in the 1917 Mexican Constitution, we see numerous scenes of peaceful resistance. There marches, petitions and boycotts. There is honest discussion amongst the various characters, about the wisdom of taking up arms against the government. At one point, a character says, in support of the boycotts, that we can do without. It will be our Lent. I liked that. The film ultimately follows the fighters more closely than the supporting non-combatant, and the armed conflict is portrayed as a laudable thing. However, those who chose to resist, but not to fight in the battlefields, are portrayed as brave and honourable as well. I thought that was a nice balance.

 - I like the way they handled Fr. Vega's character. Priests are not supposed to fight. They may be attached to armies, so that they may minister to the spiritual needs of the fighting men, but they are not to take up arms themselves. Fr. Vega does, and is an officer as well. It would have been easy to slip here, and portray him as a hero for making the choice to fight, especially since there is a tendency these days to emphasise action. The mission of the Catholic Church is primarily the salvation of souls, and therefore must be concerned more with the spiritual side of things. As it is, Fr. Vega is portrayed sympathetically. He is conflicted, and struggles with his decision, but he is, as he says himself, a priest first. Furthermore, he is the only priest in the film who takes up arms. The others continue to serve their people as well as they can under the circumstances, and a couple of them suffer martyrdom for their brave dedication.

 - This movie has an R rating that I do not think it deserves... and this is from a girl who watches most of the grittier scenes in action/adventure movies out of my bad eye only, that way I can see what is going on, but miss the gory details. For Greater Glory is violent, there is not doubt about that, it can hardly help it with the subject matter. There are scenes of war, recrimination and martyrdom - including the martyrdom of a young boy. People are beaten, shot, tortured and hanged, and the movie certainly does not pull any punches. Neither does it, however, hit you senseless with it. There is a good deal of restraint and very little gore, even in the most brutal scenes. The point of this film is not, after all, to horrify the audience with the cruelty of the Mexican government, but to edify them with the courage of the Cristeros: men, women, and even children, who were braved all these things in order to stand up for the Truth. And in that, it eminently succeeds. It is an unabashedly heroic movie; a movie that comes down squarely on the side of courage, honour and the Catholic faith. It glorifies virtue even to the point of martyrdom, and it challenges the viewer. You say you believe this - how far are you willing to go to stand up for it?

White Rose Day

As some of you might remember, I did a post on this holiday last year. I will, of course, be wearing plaid again - it is not quite tartan, but it is very similar to Dress Stewart, though with a bit more black to it, rather than green. I am wearing white roses in my hair, and I bought a little bush of miniature white roses, which are temporarily in a little pot inside, but which I will plant as soon as the Sierra summer arrives properly, and we stop having the occasion freeze at night. There is actually a strain of white roses - quite an old strain too - whose proper Latin title is Alba Maxima, but is also known as the Bonnie Prince Charlie Rose, and the Jacobite rose. If I ever get to be a reliable gardener, I would love to have an Alba Maxima in my garden.



Alba Maxima; Jacobite Rose;
Bonnie Prince Charlie Rose

This year, for celebration, I am going to partake of a bottle of Traquair Jacobite Ale, which I have been saving for today. I bought it at Traquair House in Scotland, where it is brewed. Traquair House is the oldest inhabited house in Scotland, according to their website, but more to the point, for the purpose of this post, it is as staunchly Catholic and Jacobite house. There is a little semi-hidden room in the attic, that was where the priest lived, and a secret stair case, that descends from it, and empties one out the back of the building, where one can scarper off to the woods for cover. There is a lovely little family chapel there - with the original altar, no less, and no sign of any modernisation. Traquair House is particularly interesting because it is still owned by the family, and receives no funds from Historic Scotland for its maintenance. Therefore, there has not been any restoration per se done on it. It is simply kept up, so when you tour it, you get a much better idea of what a historical house was like, than you do at other places.

 Furthermore, I have made a wee small cockade to wear upon my lapel. It was quite easy: two loops of white ribbon, stitched into a cross shape. In the center is a wee pin featuring the rampant lion. The lion is an old symbol for Scotland, and the red lion on a golden field was long used in the Royal Standard, so it seemed particularly suitable to wear today.

I shall finish by posting quite an old video of the Corries singing The White Cockade. It is charming: