The artsy page

This page is where I'm intending to put most of my artistic endeavours, ranging from zines to sewing projects to anything else I can get my hands on.
The general design of this page is based on "Ny Illustrerad Tidning", which as I'm realising is oddly specific since it could be literally any newspaper design. I'm uncertain whether I'll keep this look or change it out later on. Alas, It's what I'm going for right now.

Illustrerad Tidning is a newspaper that ran from 1865 until 1900. By pure luck I found all editions from 1884 in a nice little book at a local second hand store. It's one of my most valued posessions, and has impeccable aesthetics.
I'll try to source a fair share, if not all, of the images I do not create myself for these pages from that book. So, if nothing else is stated, everything is from there or made by me.
I'm also planning on translating some of the articles from the paper and putting them here in a easy-to

read and accessible format. Partially as an archivial effort, but also because there's some interesting and absurd things to read about. Topics range from art reviews to unmarried women being granted the status of full adults once they hit 25 years old, as well as that one time they poured oil on the Themes so it'd be still in a storm. History is facinating.
As for my own art it'll probably be formatted as a short article, with the title or image I attatch to it leading to some more detailed information about the piece.

The one thousand years old rose bush on the dôme in Hildesheim

Now, as in Louis the Pious's days, a grand plant can be seen climbing and blooming on the half-round chapel in the graveyard of the Hildesheim cathedral. Here, the one thousand year old rose is protected from strong winds by the grand walls of the temple.
If it was not a well-known fact that the wild rose can grow and prosper on old walls for many generations this strange bush could reasonably give wake to a lot of superstitions. There is completely credible information about its age dating back to the eleventh century. When Bishop Hezilo (died 1079) rebuilt the cathedral after a fire he ordered for the unscathed rose to be “carefully cared for, as it is a memory of bygone times”.
During the construction work the roots and branches were covered by a brick pipe [I’m not certain this is what they mean] which did leave enough room for air and light to come through and keep the rose alive, and when the tower was completed in 1120 the rose was led up its walls.
The roots lay deep below the church and the stem has grown out from under the two meters thick wall. Many people who have visited the cathedral have uttered the opinion that the church personnel ought to plant some of the shoots in order to maintain the oddity. However, the fresh shoots on old stems shows that the rose is hardy enough on its own accord.
The tale of the ancient plant goes as follows: Louis the Pious had visited the forests where Hildesheim now stands to hunt. Upon trying to cross the river he lost his horse as well as his hounds.
He had left those he traveled with,

and so he blew his horn in a fruitless attempt to inform them of his whereabouts. All alone he fell to his knees to pray, and then into a deep slumber. He’d hung a holy sword he carried with him on a rose bush. When he woke, the ground was covered in snow, yet the rose had fresh blooms. If this happened in the spring or late fall this is fairly easily explained. The king, however, believed it to be a miracle, and upon the rest of his hunting party reuniting with him when he blew his horn again he declared the place where the rose grew fit for a new chapel. The bush must already have been strong, seeing as the roots did not get destroyed by the original building being built.



[Despite the cathedral being severely damaged in the second world war, the rose still stands to this day. I’m not christian, but I’ll admit this is one of few stories that makes me wonder if I ought to be. The same image that can be found in my book is also linked in the Wikipedia article, in case you want to see a higher quality version.]

Translation of: Den tusenåriga rosenbusken på dômen i Hildesheim. Illustrerad Tidning 1884-03-08

If I was a poet

I was asked about what I'd write about if I was a poet. I realised that the answer was that I probably would write about love (despite being aromantic), so I made this piece.

The zine combines drawings with some text, though it is short and sweet, so to say. The drawings are of 50s or so models and movie stars (or at least is in that general style), which is intended to illustrate that the subject matter of choice is a bit old & stale, but still pretty to look at.

The zine isn't specifically about the person who asked, to be clear.