Thread And Balance By Timothy Tapestry

A beam of early morning sunlight played on his face. He turned and scooted to another part of the bed in order to avoid waking. Within a few minutes the beam of sunlight had caught up with him again and was shining again directly on his eyelids. He lay there, his head in a fog, rubbed his eyes and stared at the white plastered walls trying to determine where he was and even who he was. The brightness of the room overwhelmed him with a fierce intensity. It was a few minutes before his eyes became accustomed to the light. He entertained his semi-waking mind by tracing patterns of the earthy colors on the tapestry that hung on the wall facing him. He rubbed his hands slowly on the bedsheet, felt a smoothness and said to himself, "This

As dawn beckons, a new day has begun and the sleeping village of Salem is coated in a bright glow of orange. The small wooden shacks of this colonial town are packed together and next to it is a great green forest of oak trees. The wind starts to blow ever so gently like a ship on still water and the sea of trees dance, causing the leaves rustle.

Divided we fall book is about a private first class name Daniel Wright trying to serve his country and do his duty to protect and served his home as an Idaho Guardsmen. The author, Trent Reedy served in the Iowa national guard for 7 years and a tour in Afghanistan. I believed the book was well written by the author by giving us dramatic moments and good postures. The plot of the story was great by giving us details and action to give us an answer. Trent did an excellent telling us a story of a young soldier who’s trying to do good for his country. The story is mostly about a 17-yr. old private in the Idaho Guardsmen who’s going to High school somewhere right by a lake. Daniel was not just a guardsman, he plays for his school football team for

The vast sky above the trees was home to an array of clouds. At the turn of night, a sparkling variety of stars. The clouds were as fluffy as cotton, each with its own unique shape. As delicate as daisies, yet unbending like metal. The stars were as sharp and as piercing as thorns, but also as lovely as the bud itself. The clouds conquered the day before all time, but they gladly let the stars race across the plains as it darkened. It was the natural order, and was seen by all as equal and fair.

To become king, such minor incidence shall not perturb us of our duties. We hunted our prey without a mess. Or was the prophecy a blatant hoax. Macbeth was told he was to become King, yet he is still not. We listened with open arms. We sacrificed our dignity and humanity to form an ideal stage for our kinship but all we received was the gateway to the murky hell. These endless hallucinations have caused countless black patches under the eyes and severe traumas of that unforgettable night. Macbeth’s solidarity, leadership and chivalry was no coincidence that fate chose him but yet our reward was something that no sensual perfume could rid of. What did we do

The indication of morning had approached; wind halted while the air became temperate. Morning routine of the birds, fetching food for their children, communicating with the others, hatching their eggs. Newly seeded grass shooted out, growing like weeds. The air reminded Mary of a camping trip when she was younger in Yosemite Park. Pinecones and trees gave her the happy memories, ones of her husband and her only child before the accident.

As the wind brushed the back of my dress, I turned around to overlook the waves of golden ocean, pouring into the small town I called home. But, my eyes became fixed on the sun. It was so wonderful, so beautiful as it rose out of its slumber in the mountains. I always felt the sun’s warmth on my cloudy white dress, and I loved how it always felt like my father’s hugs.

The Bayeux Tapestry is a 230-foot-long enigma. Although the historical events that inspired its creation are well known, there are still many aspects of the tapestry that remain a mystery and a range of theories to explain certain contested phenomena. There is still discrepancy over the basic facts of the tapestry such as where it was made, and who even commissioned it. However, one aspect that has many interpretations are the borders surrounding the main narrative. The borders stretch, uninterrupted, above and below the main scene for almost the whole length of the tapestry. Composed of plants, mammals, birds, and occasional humans, separated with bars and plant images, some see no meaning in the borders, while others argue they are

It was not a beautiful morning in my life of as peasant mom. Whose husband has the Plague and is unable to help with farming. Life is hard, especially when you have three kids (which is a lot more than most peasants have). Living in the 1300s is not all it’s caught up to be. Everyday I have to go to the market and do the job of farming the crops. All these things have to be done to keep my family alive for as long as I can.

It was another day following the routine: wake up at dawn, set off into the fields and woods just outside the skirts of the village to gather what was needed, and come back before the sun sets. I settled back into my bed for a night’s sleep after such a long day’s work.

Today was the day I so patiently had been waiting for, coronation day! As a commoner it was almost unheard of to be able to visit the castle amongst the royals. I walked up to the tall door and entered the grand dining hall. The dining hall was dark and cold sending a shiver up my spine. The sound of laughter and conversation bounced off the walls overpowering the room. That was when I saw him, Macbeth, our future King, accompanied by his wife. Macbeth looked even taller and wiser in person, he was the type of man anyone would want as their king. At least that was what I had thought.

The Bayeux Tapestry (1070-80, Fig. 1) is, in fact, not a tapestry at all. It is a piece of linen cloth embroidered with wool thread, that measures about 200 feet in length and three feet in width. The cloth is embroidered with images, ranging from battle scenes (Fig. 2) to banquets (Fig. 3) to Halley’s Comet (Fig. 4). The colors are muted, including dark blue, yellow, rust red, grey, and green. The proportions are unnatural and there seems to be no care given to liner perspective or scale; instead, the work seems to focus on developing a cohesive narrative. The figures are flat and expressionless, yet they have a sense of movement and purpose as they move from one scene to another. The figures have a believable space, which is especially vivid in the battle scenes, as the figures appear to fall over one another in a animated struggle. The transition from one scene to the other is fluid and the story line is easy enough to follow. The tapestry is divided into three sections, the top, middle and bottom. Each section appears to have its own independent, though complementary, narrative.

Bright lozenges of the late autumn sun blaze on the farther hills, like organized fires moving silently and very fast. And when we slow right down, on cattle-grids, I can see the details: the way the dew in the grass is struck, by the sun, making tiny, shivering jewels (70).

The stillness that Mordechai Manor depicted early in the morning was a celestial sight; the night dew clinging to the assortment of plants in the garden, the sun not too hot and peaking above the mountains in the distance, the birds singing a divine melody. Glance fixated and preoccupied on the occurrences beyond the French pane windows, Esther Mordecai sat with a vacant expression before a large white marble vanity with a rose-scented candle cradled in her hands as a servant tended to her locks of hair. The girl worked carefully and patiently, absorbed in the task of combing the heavy curls that crowned her head, craning her head at every possible angle so she may observe every feasible view of the rose shared braid. Her mistress absently toyed with the material that adorned her vanity, a cluttered assortment of bottles, glass boxes containing jewelry, and a variety of containers holding oils, essences and an assortment of beauty products. Everything she dreamed of owning as a child, countless of the objects belonged to her inspiration, a famous dancer

The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.