“Camelot” – Artwork by Robert McGinnis.
Images
Enter Camelot
Galahad (Jenkins) continues his path back home.
“My mother never wept in front of me, she never had to. Even then, I knew that she missed my father more than anyone. Some people said that they would overhear her whispering to the sun as if it was him. As if it made the pain go away.”
-Elaine on Igraine (Arthur’s Reign by KJ Griffiths)
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The Once and Future King
It is the
mother’s not the lover’s lust that rots the mind. It is that which condemns the
tragic character to his walking death. It is Jocasta, not Juliet, who dwells in
the inner chamber. It is Gertrude, not the silly Ophelia, who sends Hamlet to
his madness. The heart of tragedy does not lie in stealing or taking away. Any
featherpated girl can steal a heart. It lies in giving, in putting on, in
adding, in smothering without the pillows.–
“Queen
Morgause,” said Guenever thoughtfully, “must have been a strange
person. […] I expect she ate Mordred, Agnes, like a spider.”
The Once and Future King, by T. H. White
As has become a tradition, I say goodbye to the year using the Pantone’s colour of the next year. And such a lovely colour it is. But given the awful year, personally and worldwide, I felt the only true subject for ‘Greenery’ is the Green Knight, waiting for the next beheading game.
Coats of Arms of (some) Knights of the Round Table from a 16th century French manuscript, including most of our favourite Merlin knights.
From left to right:
Galahad, Percival, Lancelot du Lac, Bors
King Arthur, Gawain, Tristan, Lionel
(H)elyan the White, King Bagdemagus, King Edern, King Rience,
King Carados, King Clariance, Duke Chaliens of Clarence and (H)ector de Maris.
Arthur seeing Lancelot for the first time like
Another sketches of mine ^^ I’ve done a fan art for White’s Once and Future King, who was one of my favourite books ^^
This sketch is inspired by this quote >
[…]Desdemona robbed of life or honour is nothing to a Mordred, robbed of himself—his soul stolen, overlaid, wizened, while the mother-character lives in triumph, superfluously and with stifling love endowed on him, seemingly innocent of ill-intention. Mordred was the only son of Orkney who never married. He, while his brothers fled to England, was the one who stayed alone with her for twenty years—her living larder. Now that she was dead, he had become her grave. She existed in him like the vampire. When he moved, when he blew his nose, he did it with her movement. When he acted he became as unreal as she had been, pretending to be a virgin for the unicorn. He dabbled in the same cruel magic. He had even begun to keep lap dogs like her—although he had always hated hers with the same bitter jealousy as that with which he had hated her lovers. [The Once and Future King, A Candle into the Wind, T.A. White]
(sorry for the crappy quality of my scanner tbh)
Arthurian Legends 