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Bushido Japanese tribal tattoo by thehoundofulster
Bushido Japanese tribal tattoo

Bushidō, literally "samurai way", is a Japanese word for the way of the samurai life, loosely analogous to the concept of chivalry.

Bushido, a modern term rather than a historical one, originates from the samurai moral values, most commonly stressing some combination of frugalityloyaltymartial arts mastery, and honor unto death. Born from Neo-Confucianism during times of peace in Tokugawa Japan and following Confucian texts, Bushido was also influenced by Shinto and Zen Buddhism, allowing the violent existence of the samurai to be tempered by wisdom and serenity. Bushidō developed between the 16th and 20th centuries, debated by pundits who believed they were building on a legacy dating from the 10th century, although some scholars have noted "the term bushidō itself is rarely attested in premodern literature." Under the Tokugawa Shogunate, some aspects of warrior values became formalized into Japanese feudal law.

The word was first used in Japan during the 17th century. It came into common usage in Japan and the West after the 1899 publication of Nitobe Inazō's Bushido: The Soul of Japan.

In Bushido (1899), Nitobe wrote:

...Bushidō, then, is the code of moral principles which the samurai were required or instructed to observe.... More frequently it is a code unuttered and unwritten.... It was an organic growth of decades and centuries of military career.

Nitobe was not the first person to document Japanese chivalry in this way. In his text Feudal and Modern Japan (1896), historian Arthur May Knapp wrote: "The samurai of thirty years ago had behind him a thousand years of training in the law of honor, obedience, duty, and self-sacrifice.... It was not needed to create or establish them. As a child he had but to be instructed, as indeed he was from his earliest years, in the etiquette of self-immolati


from en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bushido

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Andalucia inspired tattoo design by thehoundofulster
Andalucia inspired tattoo design

Andalusia ( SpanishAndalucía [andaluˈθi.a]Arabicالأندلس‎) is the most populous and the second largest in area of the autonomous communities in Spain. The Andalusian autonomous community is officially recognized as a nationality of Spain.[4] The territory is divided into eight provincesAlmeríaCádizCórdobaGranadaHuelvaJaénMálaga and Seville. Its capital is the city of Seville (Spanish:Sevilla).

Andalusia is in the south of the Iberian peninsula, immediately south of the autonomous communities of Extremadura and Castile–La Mancha; west of the autonomous community of Murcia and the Mediterranean Sea; east of Portugal and the Atlantic Ocean; and north of the Mediterranean Sea and the Strait of Gibraltar. The small British overseas territory of Gibraltar shares a three-quarter-mile land border with the Andalusianprovince of Cádiz at the eastern end of the Strait of Gibraltar.

The main mountain ranges of Andalusia are the Sierra Morena and the Baetic System, consisting of the Subbaetic and Penibaetic Mountains, separated by the Intrabaetic Basin. In the north, the Sierra Morena separates Andalusia from the plains of Extremadura and Castile–La Mancha on Spain's Meseta Central. To the south the geographic subregion of Upper Andalusia lies mostly within the Baetic System, while Lower Andalusia is in the Baetic Depression of the valley of the Guadalquivir.[5]

The name "Andalusia" is derived from the Arabic word Al-Andalus (الأندلس) and this term derives in turn from an older word: Vandalusia or land of the Vandals.[6] he believed that geographically it referred only to the harbor from which the Vandals departed Iberia for (North) Africa—the location of which harbour was unknown.[7] As well as Muslim and Romani influences, the region's history and culture have been influenced by the earlier IberiansCarthaginians/PhoeniciansGreeksRomansVandalsVisigothsByzantines, all of whom preceded the Muslims, as well as the Castilian and other Christian North Iberian nationalities who regained and repopulated the area in the latter phases of the Reconquista. There was also a relatively large Sephardic Jewish presence.

Andalusia has been a traditionally agricultural region, compared to the rest of Spain and the rest of Europe. However, the growth of the community especially in the sectors of industry and services was above average in Spain and higher than many communities in the eurozone. The region has, however, a rich culture and a strong cultural identity. Many cultural phenomena that are seen internationally as distinctively Spanish are largely or entirely Andalusian in origin. These include flamencobullfighting, and certain Moorish-influenced architectural styles.

Andalusia's interior is the hottest area of Europe, with cities like Córdoba and Seville averaging above 36 °C (97 °F) in summer high temperatures. Late evening temperatures can sometimes stay around 35 °C (95 °F) up close to midnight, with daytime highs of over 40 °C (104 °F) common.


from en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andalusi…

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Gothic style tribal tattoo 2 by thehoundofulster
Gothic style tribal tattoo 2

Gothic art was a style of Medieval art that developed in Northern France out of Romanesque art in the 12th century AD, led by the concurrent development of Gothic architecture. It spread to all of Western Europe, never quite effacing more classical styles in Italy. In the late 14th century, the sophisticated court style of International Gothic developed, which continued to evolve until the late 15th century. In many areas, especially Germany, Late Gothic art continued well into the 16th century, before being subsumed into Renaissance art. Primary media in the Gothic period included sculpturepanel paintingstained glassfresco and illuminated manuscripts. The easily recognizable shifts in architecture from Romanesque to Gothic, and Gothic to Renaissance styles, are typically used to define the periods in art in all media, although in many ways figurative art developed at a different pace.

The earliest Gothic art was monumental sculpture, on the walls of Cathedrals and abbeys. Christian art was often typological in nature (seeMedieval allegory), showing the stories of the New Testament and the Old Testament side by side. Saints' lives were often depicted. Images of the Virgin Mary changed from the Byzantine iconic form to a more human and affectionate mother, cuddling her infant, swaying from her hip, and showing the refined manners of a well-born aristocratic courtly lady.

Secular art came into its own during this period with the rise of cities, foundation of universities, increase in trade, the establishment of a money-based economy and the creation of a bourgeois class who could afford to patronize the arts and commission works resulting in a proliferation of paintings and illuminated manuscripts. Increased literacy and a growing body of secular vernacular literature encouraged the representation of secular themes in art. With the growth of cities, trade guilds were formed and artists were often required to be members of a painters' guild—as a result, because of better record keeping, more artists are known to us by name in this period than any previous; some artists were even so bold as to sign their names.

from en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gothic_a…

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thehoundofulster
dagonet
Italy
There is a way of battle. In the end the shield walls must meet and the slaughter will begin and one side will prevail and the other will be beaten down in a welter of butchery, but before the blades clash and before the shields crash, men must summon the nerve to make the charge. The two sides stare at each other, they taunt and insult each other. The young fools of each army will prance ahead of the wall and challenge their enemy to single combat, they will boast of the widows they plan to make and of the orphans who will weep for their fathers’ deaths. And the young fools fight and half of them will die, and the other half strut their bloody victory, but there is still no true victory because the shield walls have not met. And still the waiting goes on. Some men vomit with fear, others sing, some pray, but then at last one side will advance. It is usually a slow advance. Men crouch behind their shields, knowing that spears, axes and arrows will greet them before the shields slam together, and only when they are close, really close, does the attacker charge. Then there is a great bellow of noise, a roar of anger and fear, and the shields meet like thunder and the big blades fall and the swords stab and the shrieks fill the sky as the two shield walls fight to the death. That is the way of battle.
And Cnut broke it.
It began in the usual way. My shield wall stood at the very edge of the ford which was no more than twenty paces across. We were on the western bank, Cnut’s men were arriving from the east and, as they reached the crossroads, they dismounted. Boys took the horses and led them to a pasture while the warriors unslung their shields and looked for their battle-companions. They were arriving in groups. It was plain they had hurried and were strung out along the road, but their numbers grew swiftly. They gathered some five hundred paces from us where they formed a swine-head. I had expected that.
‘Confident bastards,’ Finan muttered.
‘Wouldn’t you be?’
‘Probably,’ he said. Finan was to my left, my son to my right. I resisted the temptation to give Uhtred advice. He had practiced the shield wall for years, he knew all I had to teach him, and to repeat it now would only betray my nervousness. He was silent. He just stared at the enemy and knew that in a few moments he would have to face his first battle of the shield-walls. And, I thought, he would probably die.
I tried to count the arriving enemy and reckoned the swine head held about five hundred men. So, they outnumbered us two to one, and still more men were coming. Cnut and Sigurd were there, their banners bright above the shields. I could see Cnut because he was still mounted, his pale horse somewhere deep in the big wedge of men.
A swine-head. I noticed that not one man had come forward to look at the ford which told me they knew this stretch of country, or someone in their army knew it. They knew about the ditch-like river and they knew that the west-leading road had a shallow ford which would be easy to cross and so they did not need to make any exploration. They would just advance, and Cnut had formed them into the swine-head to make that advance irresistible.
The shield wall is usually straight. Two straight lines that crash together and men struggle to break the opposing line, but a swine-head is a wedge. It comes fast. The biggest and bravest men are placed at the point of the wedge and their job is to smash through the opposing shield wall like a spear shattering a door. And once our line was broken the wedge would widen as they hacked along our lines and so my men would die.
And to make sure of that Cnut had sent men to cross the river north of us. A boy rode down from the ridge where the houses burned to bring me that bad news. ‘Lord?’ he asked nervously.
‘What’s your name, boy?’
‘Godric, Lord.’
‘You’re Grindan’s son?’
‘Yes, Lord.’
‘Then your name is Godric Grindanson,’ I said, ‘and how old are you?’
‘Eleven, Lord, I think.’
He was a snub-nosed, blue-eyed boy wearing an old leather coat which had probably belonged to his father because it was so big. ‘So what does Godric Grindanson want to tell me?’ I asked.
He pointed a tremulous finger north. ‘They’re crossing the river, Lord.’
‘How many? And how far away?’
‘Hrodgeir says there are three hundred men, Lord, and they’re still a long way north and more of them are crossing all the time, Lord.’ Hrodgeir was a Dane whom I had left on the ridge so he could keep watch on what the enemy did. ‘And, Lord…’ Godric went on until his voice faltered.
‘Tell me.’
‘He says there are more men to the west, Lord, hundreds!’
‘Hundreds?’
‘They’re among trees, Lord, and Hrodgeir says he can’t count them.’
‘He hasn’t got enough fingers,’ Finan put in.
I looked up at the frightened boy. ‘Shall I tell you something about battles, Godric Grindanson?’
‘Yes please, Lord.’
‘One man always survives,’ I said. ‘He’s usually a poet and his job is to write a song which tells how bravely all his companions died. That might be your job today. Are you a poet?’
‘No, Lord.’
‘Then you’ll have to learn. So when you see us dying, Godric Grindanson, you ride south as fast as you can and you ride like the wind and you ride till you’re safe and you write the poem in your head which tells the Saxons that we died like heroes. Will you do that for me?’
He nodded.
‘Go back to Hrodgeir,’ I told him, ‘and tell me when you see the horsemen from the north or the ones from the west getting close.’
He went. Finan grinned. ‘Bastards on three sides of us.’
‘They must be scared.’
‘Shitting themselves, probably.’
I was expecting Cnut to ride to the ford, bringing his war-leaders with him to enjoy his insults. I had thought to have his son at my side with a knife at his throat, but rejected the thought. Cnut Cnutson could stay with Æthelflæd. If he stayed with me I could only threaten him, and if Cnut dared me to cut the boy’s throat, what would I do? Cut it? We would still have to fight. Let him live? Then Cnut would despise me for being weak. The boy had served his purpose by luring Cnut away from the East Anglian borderlands to this corner of Mercia and now he must wait till the battle was done to learn his fate. I gripped my shield and drew Serpent-Breath. In almost every clash of the shield walls I preferred Wasp-Sting, my short sword that was so deadly when you were being forced into the embrace of your enemy, but today I would begin with the longer, heavier blade. I hefted her, kissed her hilt, and waited for Cnut’s arrival.
Only he did not come to insult me, nor did any young men come forward to challenge us to single-combat.
Instead Cnut sent the swine-head.
Instead of insults and challenges there was a great roar of battle-shout from the mass of men assembled under the banners of Cnut and Sigurd, and then they advanced. They came down the road fast. The land was flat, there were no obstacles and they kept their tight formation. Their shields overlapped. We saw the painted symbols on the shields, the shattered crosses, ravens, hammers, axes and eagles. Above those broad round shields were helmets with face-guards so that the enemy seemed to be black-eyed, steel-clad, and in front of the shields were the heavy spears, their blades catching the day’s half-clouded light, and beneath the shields hundreds of feet trampled the ground in time to the heavy drums that had started to beat the war-rhythm behind the swine-head.
No insults, no challenges. Cnut knew he outnumbered me by so many that he could afford to divide his army. I glanced to my left and saw still more horsemen crossing the ditch far to the north. Some five or six hundred men were pounding towards us in the swine-head, and at least that many were now on our side of the river and ready to fall on our left flank. More men, those on slower horses, were still arriving, but Cnut must have known that his swine-head would do the necessary work. It thundered towards us and as it came closer I could see faces behind the cheek-pieces, I could see eager eyes and grim mouths, I could see Danes coming to kill us.
‘God is with us!’ Sihtric shouted. The two priests had been shriving men all morning, but now they retreated behind the shield wall and knelt in prayer, their clasped hands lifted to the sky.
‘Wait for my order!’ I called. My shield wall knew what they must do. We would advance into the ford as the swine-head reached the far bank. I planned to meet the charge almost halfway across the river and there I planned a slaughter before I died. ‘Wait!’ I shouted.
And I thought Cnut should have waited. He should have let his swine-head wait until the men to the north were ready to attack, but he was so confident. And why not? The swine-head outnumbered us and it should have shattered our shield wall and scattered my men and led to a slaughter by the river, and so he had not waited. He had sent the swine-head and it was almost at the far bank now.
‘Forward!’ I shouted, ‘and slowly!’
We went forward steadily, our shields overlapping, our weapons held hard. We were in four ranks. I was in the front and at the centre, and the point of the swine-head came straight at me like a boar’s tusk ready to rip through flesh and muscle and sinew and mail to shatter bone and spill guts and wreath the slow river water with Saxon blood.
‘Kill!’ a man shouted from the Danish ranks and they saw how few we were and knew they would overwhelm us and now they quickened, eager to slay, cheering as they came, their voices raw with threat, their shields still touching, their mouths grimaces of battle hate, and it was as if they raced to reach us in the certainty that their poets would sing of a great slaughter.

An excerpt or chapter from "THE PAGAN LORD" of Bernard Cornwell

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:iconauguste59:
auguste59 Featured By Owner Oct 9, 2014
Mille grazie :icondawatchplz:
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:iconthehoundofulster:
thehoundofulster Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2014
:)
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:iconssecond-heartbeat:
Ssecond-Heartbeat Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks a lot for the watch & the faves! :з
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:iconthehoundofulster:
thehoundofulster Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2014
you are very welcome ! great works
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:iconssecond-heartbeat:
Ssecond-Heartbeat Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Aawww, thanks again ^-^
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:iconredfireraven420:
RedFireRaven420 Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2014
Happy birthday
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:iconthehoundofulster:
thehoundofulster Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2014
Thank you so much, my lady
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:iconredfireraven420:
RedFireRaven420 Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2014
your very welcome
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:iconslishy:
slishy Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2014
Thanks so much for fav!!! ^^
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:iconthehoundofulster:
thehoundofulster Featured By Owner Jun 16, 2014
de nada !
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