Laurë
Aug 8, 2011 4:09:35 GMT
Post by Everguard on Aug 8, 2011 4:09:35 GMT
So this is a weird thing for me to write, because I've never had this reaction to seeing a sword before, but I felt I needed to share it. I decided to check FableBlades.com tonight, just to see if Brendan had posted anything new. I saw a new link on the righthand side for Laurë: Fist of Glorfindel.
fableblades.com/Laure.html
Now, I'm admittedly a pretty emotional person. I sobbed like a child at the end of the Lord of the Rings trilogy ("My friends, you bow to no one." That line ruined me.) I don't know how else to say this other than to say it: seeing this sword MOVED me. I know we're all here because we share a love for sharp shinies, but this was unique. I've been a big fan of Fable Blades for years, and I've gotten lost gazing at Brendan's work many times before, but this was a new experience for me.
It just made me think about how much power is in these anachronisms. They symbolize so much, and we project so much upon them. An inanimate object left me speechless, stopped my thoughts, and brought a tear to my eye. That sounds so sappy writing it down, but it's the honest truth.
This reminds me of a quote from the aforementioned film:
Sam: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.
This is living proof that there's some good left in the world, Brendan. Thank you.
fableblades.com/Laure.html
Now, I'm admittedly a pretty emotional person. I sobbed like a child at the end of the Lord of the Rings trilogy ("My friends, you bow to no one." That line ruined me.) I don't know how else to say this other than to say it: seeing this sword MOVED me. I know we're all here because we share a love for sharp shinies, but this was unique. I've been a big fan of Fable Blades for years, and I've gotten lost gazing at Brendan's work many times before, but this was a new experience for me.
It just made me think about how much power is in these anachronisms. They symbolize so much, and we project so much upon them. An inanimate object left me speechless, stopped my thoughts, and brought a tear to my eye. That sounds so sappy writing it down, but it's the honest truth.
This reminds me of a quote from the aforementioned film:
Sam: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.
This is living proof that there's some good left in the world, Brendan. Thank you.