Legends of An Tir 7
So... Barak.
A couple weeks ago I came home from a fantastic day demoing art at Trade Show to learn that Barak Ravensfuri had died. I was just... stunned. I still am. He was so... large. That's my overwhelming impression. Large physically, large psychically, unmistakable, unignorable. A huge presence, a huge impact wherever he was. Someone who grew and matured tremendously from a rocky beginning. Big and loud and fierce and blustery, but an honorable and caring person under the noise, with a magnificent capacity for laughter and celebration. Occasionally a huge pain, but always a huge heart. It is a quieter and a poorer world without him.
I've always loved this picture. Such a peaceful moment amid a reign's usual demands. When this was taken, or a little before or after, I was probably hunkered on the ground just to the right of the throne, filling in names on scrolls. I was on retinue for the reign, and I think it was that same day when Barak, having observed my comings and goings for a bit, complained that I kept cringing when I was around him. I responded (only partly tongue in cheek), "Well, that's because I'm never sure if you're going to hit me!" (He had a way of glowering at one...) Indignant, he protested, "I would never hit you!" I said, "Can I have that in writing?" Whereupon he tore off a piece of Lao's notebook paper and wrote the following:
Which, as you can imagine, I have treasured ever since. If I ever took up fighting, I planned to laminate it to my helmet...
And here's his "Legends of An Tir" stained glass window design for Twelfth Night.
[click image to enlarge]
In his right hand he holds his eponymous "barak buck" coin, which indicates his tremendous fundraising efforts.
And that makes six... six people I know who have died in the last two months. Enough, world. Stop.
A couple weeks ago I came home from a fantastic day demoing art at Trade Show to learn that Barak Ravensfuri had died. I was just... stunned. I still am. He was so... large. That's my overwhelming impression. Large physically, large psychically, unmistakable, unignorable. A huge presence, a huge impact wherever he was. Someone who grew and matured tremendously from a rocky beginning. Big and loud and fierce and blustery, but an honorable and caring person under the noise, with a magnificent capacity for laughter and celebration. Occasionally a huge pain, but always a huge heart. It is a quieter and a poorer world without him.
I've always loved this picture. Such a peaceful moment amid a reign's usual demands. When this was taken, or a little before or after, I was probably hunkered on the ground just to the right of the throne, filling in names on scrolls. I was on retinue for the reign, and I think it was that same day when Barak, having observed my comings and goings for a bit, complained that I kept cringing when I was around him. I responded (only partly tongue in cheek), "Well, that's because I'm never sure if you're going to hit me!" (He had a way of glowering at one...) Indignant, he protested, "I would never hit you!" I said, "Can I have that in writing?" Whereupon he tore off a piece of Lao's notebook paper and wrote the following:
Which, as you can imagine, I have treasured ever since. If I ever took up fighting, I planned to laminate it to my helmet...
And here's his "Legends of An Tir" stained glass window design for Twelfth Night.
[click image to enlarge]
In his right hand he holds his eponymous "barak buck" coin, which indicates his tremendous fundraising efforts.
And that makes six... six people I know who have died in the last two months. Enough, world. Stop.