#blue riders

[endlessandrea]

Chris Ofili, Blue Sparrow, 2005 Charcoal, gouache, ink, aluminium on paper 198 x 130 cm

[clairity-org]

Wassily Kandinsky, Red Spot II, 1921 by Sharon Mollerus

[clairity-org]

Alexei von Jawlensky, Spring, 1912, Oil on cardboard 9/28/19 #stlartmuseum by Sharon Mollerus

[marywoodartdept]

A modern artist that I recently learned about is Robert Delaunay. He was a French artist, who gained some popularity through association with the Blue Riders (one of the two movements in German Expressionism). One of the features that really stuck out to me about Delaunay was his use of bright colors and funky shapes. Some of his works even remind me of Matisse (but with a little twist).

Two of his artworks that really intrigued me were La Tour Eiffel made in 1910, and La Tour Eiffel rouge (Champs de Mars. La Tour rouge) made in 1911.

  Both of these works are about the Eiffel tower. Delaunay actually created many other works on the Eiffel tower as well. This could possibly be because he came from France, and the Eiffel tower may have be significant to him.

To begin, Robert and his wife, Sonia, both created works that were categorized as Orphic Cubism. This form of cubism tends to have abstraction and bright colors. And, in some cases, this form of cubism can make artwork appear musical and rhythmic. It’s a very complicated concept, as are most of the 19th and 20th century art movements. However, these types of art movements make up the art world, they show the brilliance of artists, and they show artist’s ability to execute these art styles.

Even though these artworks are only a year apart, they show drastic changes. For one, the colors change from dark tones to slightly purer colors. Yet, there is still some hints of dark tones in the 1911, showing that Delaunay is just starting to experiment with color. Also, Delaunay starts to incorporate abstraction into his work. For instance, looking at the background of the 1911 image, it’s difficult to tell what is occurring. While in the 1910 one, one can see that the background is a bunch of clouds.

Nicole So, art history, explores the works of the Blue Riders and a German Expressionist artist, in "Robert Delaunay" A modern artist that I recently learned about is Robert Delaunay. He was a French artist, who gained some popularity through association with the Blue Riders (one of the two movements in German Expressionism).

[clairity-org]

Kandinsky, Glass Painting with Red Spot by Sharon Mollerus

[aileuromania]

Fragility [TOR Pern AU]

This is more background, and a combination effort from Deathcupcake and I. Originally it was just going to be a makeout session, but it ended up a little more steamy than that.

This comes after Discover.

Warnings: Same sex relationship

* * * * *

If G'rain didn't have duties, he would stay like this forever.

Once, it seemed like a lifetime ago, he had gone to the SmithCraftHall on the behest of the Weyr's dragon healer. Flamethrower blowback had been a problem for some time, with more than one junior queen singed from ill timed burns, so he'd gone to the Hall for a solution.

The old idea of agenothree had come up again from the Master he spoke with, and it was he who introduced him to Nikyr, the expert in such matters. The Weyrsinger hadn't realised it at the time, but it was a moment that would resonate throughout the rest of his life.

He hadn't understood so many of the terms so lovingly gabbled by the alternately bashful and enthusiastic man, but with patience from both sides, accord was reached.

G'rain had never felt as intellectually stimulated as when he was in the presence of the clever Smith, and under his tutelage quickly found himself able to turn a thought into designs if not as well as the man himself, then at least well enough to be interpreted and expanded upon.

They were of common thought and curiosity, each with a desire to do right by the dragonrider community and Pern at large. It was only natural that friendship was forged as well as fuel tanks, and in-jokes and references crept into their conversations.

Even Serinth had taken a shine to the dark skinned man, asking if he wanted to actually fly, and not just endlessly talk about the theory.

After that first flight, G'rain remembered the warmth of the man clinging on to his waist.The feel of that lean body against his own remained on his mind long after the flight was done, resonating in flesh that desired to feel more.

His thoughts had turned from ideas to man without him noticing, realising in the darkness of his weyr that he didn't need to visit the Hall as often as he had, and that his heart beat faster when he thought of visiting the grey eyed Smith. What did it feel like to run his fingers through that mop of hair, or to feel that toned body against his? Did he smell musky? Metallic? Did he taste of fire and the forge, or something less definable?

He wanted Nikyr in a way he had never wanted anyone before, and despaired in secret until he realised the Smith felt the same.

"I thought there might be another reason you keep visiting me. I hoped there was."

His kind was frowned upon in Pern society beyond the Weyrs. Blue and green riders, the so-called "dragonwomen", were often derided behind their backs, their supposed proclivities historically used to denounce Weryfolk as a whole. G'rain escaped a little of the torment by providence of the Harper badge at his shoulder, but already he knew the whispers he and Serinth would leave behind for the Smith to hear.

To protect Nikyr's reputation, they'd flown here, to the tarn they'd come to so many times before to swim, bathe and laugh after a difficult Threadfall. Few came here, the golden lakes above Ruatha or the seas about Nerat the preferred bathing spots for most riders. Yet it was this place with its roots deep in the northern range that G'rain came to for solitude, to practice without interruption, and now, for the most intimate of company.

* * * * *

Nikyr held the dragonrider in his arms, pulling him close as his lips traveled down jawline to the soft skin of the neck. He enjoyed the strong hands caressing his back, fingertips playing him so expertly that his own efforts were often paused to appreciate the sensations. He concentrated and inhaled deeply, revelling in the scent of the man, a scent he'd come to associate with exhilaration, anticipation. Even now, tanned leather mixed with the other's heated body, the underlying presence of dragon musk, all combined to arouse him further, and he parted his lips to tentatively lick G'rain's skin. Nikyr smiled as the man pressed closer, his quiet sighs exciting him as he felt firm fingers wind through his hair and the slight movement to allow him more access.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, really, but he found everything more satisfying than he'd imagined. Kissing G'rain was similar to, yet so unlike kissing women. The mechanics were the same, even though his tipsy fumbling with them had been more along the lines of what was expected and not desire. This was far more engaging -- whether that was because he had strong feelings for the dragonrider or because he was finally able to explore his attraction to men, he couldn't say. All he knew was that he'd been aching to be near the other man for what seemed an eternity before today. He didn't even know what had given him the impetus to admit his interest, but that had been well worth the moments of embarrassment.

With more confidence, he nuzzled the other's neck, then trailed his tongue along skin to meet G'rain's lips again, surprising himself with a rush of passion as he boldly explored the man's mouth. The salty skin, lightly spiced by the oil the dragonrider used on Serinth, the sweetness of his lips, all of it combined into a heady euphoria, and he groaned quietly, gripping G'rain's hip as much to keep himself from pressing against the man as to keep him from pulling away.

Nikyr paused, grey eyes searching blue.

"G'rain," his voice husky, his breathing quick, hand on hip grasping a bit tighter. "I need to tell you. But..." The dark skin flushed again, and Nikyr dropped his gaze from the other's. "By the flame! I..."

"Go on," G'rain lifted a hand to caress the smith's cheek, leaning in to kiss him softly and encouraged him to continue.

Nikyr felt his body tense as embarrassment warred with desire, his expression melting into an anxious frown and he sighed with frustration.

"I don't, I mean, I..." He sat up, turning his head away from the other. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair, shoulders hunching as he crossed his legs. He took a deep breath, then turned to look at G'rain, who sat up as he waited. Kindness and desire was clear on the dragonrider's face as he reached to take one of Nikyr's hands in his.

Nikyr squeezed G'rain's hand, grateful for the man's patience.

"I don't know what I'm doing." The smith gestured helplessly with his free hand, admitting his inexperience with resignation. "I've kissed a few women, but I wasn't very interested." He shrugged, adding with a wry smile, "I was curious, though.

“Thing is, I..." his face flushed again, "I knew I was attracted to men, but it's not accepted in the hold. And I've seen how folks are treated by others, even in the hall." He reached to run a hand over G'rain's cheek, fingers lightly tracing the other's jaw, feeling the stubble catch. He wanted to keep touching this man, and he sighed again as he ran his fingertips across G'rain's lips. "But I don't care what people think. Except you. I just don't want to do anything...wrong." Nikyr's forehead creased as he watched the dragonrider's reaction.

G'rain smiled, catching Nikyr's hand as it passed over his lips, kissing the fingers.

"There's no wrong. In fact, I thought it was right," he held both of Nikyr's hands, squeezing them as his expression became concerned. "But I don't want to cause problems for you in the Hall."

Nikyr shook his head sharply, looking away.

"I can handle it. It's none of their business anyway." He turned back to G'rain, the color still flush across his cheekbones, but ducked his head, not meeting his eyes, his deep voice almost a whisper. "You don't mind? I mean, I don't like disappointing people. And with you used to weyrfolk..."

G'rain lifted his hands to Nikyr's face, encouraging the smith to look directly at him.

"Do I mind? Not one bit. Nikyr, I want to be here with you. I don't care if you've been with many or none. I just want you to do what's comfortable for you." The dragonrider shifted to kneel, hands pulling gently at the other as he tentatively drew in for a kiss, watching the grey eyes for hesitation. He was rewarded with warm lips meeting his and strong arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him close again.

Each felt the other relax into their connection, moving as one to lay back down on the rushes. G'rain let his hand trail along the smith's arm, feeling muscles flex as he moved closer to whisper against willing lips.

"Now, where were we?"

* * * * *

There they lay, shirts discarded, arms about one another as a new phase of relations began.

Under the eaves of the cliff, fingertips explored as their lips broke through taboos, sensation the pathway into a greater comfort. Though he had lived in longing for so long, the thought of scaring him away tied G'rain's guts into knots, and so he would take it as slow as he could despite the encouragement of his dragon.

He could stay here in Nikyr's arms forever. In these fragile first days of their journey, he made himself content with that, losing himself in grey eyes instead of in base satisfaction.

"How...?" Nikyr was still hesitant, even though his hands had ranged across G'rain's skin, his colour high with both embarrassment and excitement. The dragonrider couldn't help the tenderness that welled with him him at the sight, and pushed the hair back out of his partner's face.

"How?" He asked in kind, gently teasing the words from him.

The Smith laughed, a note of vulnerability sounding in the clarity of the mountain air.

"How did you know you preferred men?"

"Serinth was a big clue." The tenderness erupted into a smile as his mind turned toward his dragon still cavorting in the lake.

"Oh. Blues traditionally only Impress..." Nikyr's words came to a halt at G'rain's solemn nod. "But before, did you know you would...?"

It was difficult these days to recall what it was like without Serinth. Nearly eight turns had passed since that glorious day, and the memory of life without his dragon's constant litany of love and affection seemed like a nightmare dimmed by daylight.

Yet with a flash of insight, G'rain knew why the question was being asked, and he sighed as he struggled to find the reassurance his partner so sorely needed.

"I guess... I never saw the attraction in women. They were nice enough, but when I heard the other apprentices talking about this one's breasts or that one's hips, I didn't understand it. They were pretty, but I preferred the look of the men in their riding gear, or in the Hold livery. Broad shoulders, slender hips, muscular arms..." He grinned, realising that all unknowingly he'd just described the one sharing the rushes with him. "...That was what turned my head."

"And did you... You know. Before?"

A chuckle of sympathy escaped G'rain's lips, watching with fascination as the wave of colour darkened Nikyr's freckled and frustrated face. His fingers felt like they had minds of their own as he tried to soothe those fears with a touch, tracing the other man's side in gentle caress.

"I didn't do that until Serinth rose for the first time." He could still remember that day; the thrill of flight, and the terror of what was to come. Thankfully Serinth's first green had been ridden by a sympathetic veteran, and so G'rain's dragon roused fumblings had been deftly guided. "But when I was at the Harper Hall, there was a boy - one of the boarding students. We used to touch one another. I think it helped us feel less alone."

Nikyr's voice was softer as he looked away, something conflicted marring his beautiful face.

"Do you still see him, too?"

"Hakirn? No." The question was confusing, his last memory made hazy by time and disinterest. "I haven't seen him in Turns. I'm not even sure where he was posted."

The body against his relaxed just a little, but it warranted the softest of caress across a hip.

"Would you touch me the way you used to touch him?"

The question was too fast and almost inaudible, but G'rain beamed as he guided the other man against him.

"When you're ready, and if that's what you want, yes."

Nikyr's breath was expelled in a rush, his voice almost cracking as he gasped,

"That's what I want."

[the-oubliette]

Haze [TOR-Pern AU]

Follows Forge and Sweetsand.

  Nikyr awoke, sleepily noting the absence as Serinth left to sun himself on the ledge. The warmth of the sleeping furs was comforting, and he moved closer to his weyrmate's body to wrap an arm around the man's chest. Fingertips brushing in sweet caress, he pulled close, knees tucked in against the other's. He lay with forehead against shoulder as breath caught his lover's rhythm and relaxed to match tempo.

Time passed in half-slumber, the warmth and scent of the dragonrider filling his senses, a gentle reminder of how lucky he was to have this man in his arms, in his life. He was mildly embarrassed that it still bothered him that he had to share his love for the good of the Weyr a few times a turn, but he'd figured out a system that allowed him to work through his frustrations and bring him back to his lover's arms to renew their bond. No one else could rouse his passion or make him feel so safe and content, and he'd no sooner give him up than give up the forge. This man and his dragon were his and he was theirs, forever.

Nikyr's embrace tightened as his thoughts settled and the man in his arms sighed, lacing his fingers with the smith's. He sighed in return, shifting to hold as much of the rider against his body as possible. He felt the low hum against his chest before he heard the tones and smiled. The Weyrsinger was never without music, but this song was for him alone.

He pressed his lips to G'rain's neck, kissing the soft, sleep-scented skin, breath roughened as the other shifted sensuously to elicit response, one hand reaching back to caress the smith's hip. The movement worked as intended, and he moaned softly, his desire stirring.

Gentle, languid movements gradually quickened, and he freed his fingers to caress the other's chest, touch light as his hand descended to boldly slip beneath the man's waistband. Practiced fingers explored known territory; a gentle squeeze, a slow, deliberate stroke, a tease of the thumb before repeating, listening to the change in G'rain's song mirrored in his hardening length.

The feel of his lover in his hand, yielding, soft heat over iron, made him groan, and he quickly eased their clothing off, pulling the dragonrider back against his chest as soon as garments were cast aside. He cradled the man with arm and entwined legs, his own desire pressed hard upon the other's thigh. Rocking himself against golden skin, he matched his movements with strokes on the other's aroused flesh, heavy breath warm in his lover's ear.

Nikyr sighed with contentment as G'rain turned his head and reached to run fingers into the smith's hair, pulling him into a deep kiss as sounds of pleasure resonated in his throat. Grip tightened as tongues met and the dragonrider groaned, pushing into his partner's hand while his free hand stroked the one wrapped around him.

G'rain tensed, a quiet whimper of need as he pulled at the smith's hand. Nikyr released his grip as the other turned to face him, leaning in to resume their kiss. Gold hands guided brown shoulders down to the furs, grasped at thighs as bodies pressed close, and Nikyr smiled as their lips met, arching into his lover with a satisfied sound. He wrapped his legs around the dragonrider's hips, hands cupping the other's face, winding through hair. Grey eyes opened as they shifted into familiar pattern, fingers dancing over eyebrows and jawline and lips as he gazed into deep blue.

"Ride me, rider." He chuckled -- the old joke between them no less humorous for all its accuracy -- then caught his breath as G'rain moved faster, delighting in the feel of his lover against him as he played counterpart. He licked his fingers, sliding a hand between them to ease the friction and heighten sensation, fingers stroking their lengths together, giving himself over to increasing pleasure. "G'rain," he whispered the man's name against parted lips, heated breaths exchanged, each urged on by the knowledge of the other's bodies as they moved together.

"Ger...I..." Nikyr closed his eyes, arching his back as he shuddered and cried out, his release warm and slick on hand and body. Relaxing into breathless chuckles, he pulled G'rain into a kiss as he continued to stroke, fingers and hips working to coax his partner to climax, his weyrmate's release as desired as his own. He luxuriated in fading bliss, watching G'rain through half-closed eyes, the other caught in the moment of heightened desire and sensation.

Nikyr smiled in anticipation, recognizing approach by sound and quickened breath. Fingers brushed furrowed brow, travelling to caress neck and back, stroking golden thighs to encourage his lover. He reveled in the scent of their desire, lips trailing over soft skin, the fierce spark of satisfaction when G'rain tensed then relaxed against him with a gasp, pulling the dragonrider close as he trembled in surrender.

Shifting to comfortable embrace, they drifted in sated haze, hands and bodies loathe to part. Nikyr sighed as he studied G'rain's face, the gentle smile on the man's lips nourishing his soul. He reached to smooth back disheveled hair, fingers gently caressing flushed cheeks as his were caressed in kind. Joy swelled in his chest as G'rain leaned in for a kiss, tender with the reassurance of a lifetime of passion.

"I love you," the smith declared quietly between kisses. "I love you," both hands now returned to cup the other's face, grey eyes searched blue, smiling at the love reflected, the warmth of the dragonrider's hand placed over his. "I'm yours. Always."

G'rain's voice was husky, those deep blue eyes for a moment only seeing him as he avowed,

"You're the one I choose, Nikyr. Always."

[arthistorydoesntalwayssuck]

Improvisation 7 - Vassily Kandinsky

let me just sink into a giant gooey pile of love