I think this is actually my first watercolor painting of the year! But I was coloring Easter eggs today and that just got me in an artsy mood, and seeing as how I was coloring Easter eggs while simultaneously watching "School Reunion" . . . this happened! Me and my silly/terrible use of color. I felt rather adventurous painting this though because there was no backstep button, haha. Only my third time painting with India ink too, which was fun. I'll have to keep practicing, presumably over the summer once these last few miserable weeks of uni are over.
Loki would never admit it (and especially not to that idiot Thor) but he was... partial to Midgardian music.
Not the electronic kind, filtered through microphones and amplifiers and computer gadgetry, but the kind that was an art, carefully recorded note by note and kept in tomes on creamy paper, preserved and studied and pored over by the mortals.
Music was magic, in its own way.
Of course, Asgard had its own divine musical instruments, but Loki was intrigued by what the mortals had managed to devise. Vibrating metal strings pinned on wood frames, set to motion by horsehair bows or felt hammers, seemed crude at first glance. But the sounds they could create!
And of all of them, the piano might have been his favorite. All those tiny pieces, painstakingly assembled to create such a deceptively simple motion: the swing of a hammer against a string to create a resonant tone.
So when the fortepiano was born in a craftsman's workshop in Italy, he'd watched its progress during his trips to Midgard. Sat in on concerts, observed the evolution of musical writing from Beethoven's sonatas to Chopin's etudes to Rachmaninoff's piano concertos. He liked that the mortals still honored the genius of old, that they could appreciate in the same hour music that was three hundred years old and music that had been written yesterday.
And he'd dabbled, yes. Slipped his long fingers across the ivory keys, translated his unspeakable thoughts to melodies that whispered from the strings.
He didn't play much these days. But seeing that humble instrument still evoked feelings of nostalgia--as much as a god could feel nostalgia for a thing not of his own realm--and every once in a while, he indulged in a bit of playing. A balm for a troubled soul.
Frederic Chopin, one of my favourite composers of all time. It's a little colourful for my taste and the cravat looks like an evil goatee LOL but it is, essentally, a cravat and shirt collar. Enjoy.
Why the rainbow colour? Though Chopin suffered healthwise and had this melancholic look throughout his life, I think his music has a purity and a transcendence - a fantasy of rainbow colours - that goes beyond words.