A particularly sanguinary crucifixion, forming the T of the “Te igitur.”  Gellone Sacramentary, ca. 790 AD, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS Latin 12048. 
A beautiful example of early Caroline minuscule: look how clearly readable those letters are!  Also a great example of the creative arrangement of capital letters: the red capitals read (with the cross) “Te igitur, clementissime Pater.”  Look at the “Pater”—the “ate” are combined into one composite form.

A particularly sanguinary crucifixion, forming the T of the “Te igitur.”  Gellone Sacramentary, ca. 790 AD, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS Latin 12048. 

A beautiful example of early Caroline minuscule: look how clearly readable those letters are!  Also a great example of the creative arrangement of capital letters: the red capitals read (with the cross) “Te igitur, clementissime Pater.”  Look at the “Pater”—the “ate” are combined into one composite form.

O Fortuna!
Posted by shuddhi:

Attributed to the Coëtivy Master 
French, Paris, about 1460 - 1470 

O Fortuna!

Posted by shuddhi:

Attributed to the Coëtivy Master 

French, Paris, about 1460 - 1470 

(via savage-america)

There is a LOT to love in this historiated initial from a 12th-century manuscript of Gratian’s Decretum (the canon law book of the Roman Catholic church from the 12th century until 1918). 
The wonderful animal faces chomping on the bars of the “H”
The representation of the two powers, ecclesiastical and secular (no surprise which is on top)
The plethora of scribal abbreviations: the “M” bar over the V in HVMANVM; the apostrophe-like VS curve for GENVS; the semi-colons that show up for ablative endings in duobus and moribus
The visibility of the ruling, so that even the scroll in the initial looks lined
The Tironian note (that looks like a 7), which predates the ampersand (I love that & and 7 are on the same key on keyboards)
The glorious legibility of this elegant 12th-century French hand:
HVMANVM GENVM duobus regitur naturali videlicet iure et moribus
“The human race is ruled by two things, that is, by natural law and by customs.”
These are the opening words of the first page of the first part of Gratian’s Decretum.
Fun fact: my grad-school roommate wrote his dissertation on the textual history of several Decretum manuscripts, and he won a MacArthur “genius” fellowship for it.
This initial, found at BibliOdyssey, is from a manuscript found in the library of Troyes, in France: MS. 103.

There is a LOT to love in this historiated initial from a 12th-century manuscript of Gratian’s Decretum (the canon law book of the Roman Catholic church from the 12th century until 1918). 

  • The wonderful animal faces chomping on the bars of the “H”
  • The representation of the two powers, ecclesiastical and secular (no surprise which is on top)
  • The plethora of scribal abbreviations: the “M” bar over the V in HVMANVM; the apostrophe-like VS curve for GENVS; the semi-colons that show up for ablative endings in duobus and moribus
  • The visibility of the ruling, so that even the scroll in the initial looks lined
  • The Tironian note (that looks like a 7), which predates the ampersand (I love that & and 7 are on the same key on keyboards)
  • The glorious legibility of this elegant 12th-century French hand:

HVMANVM GENVM duobus regitur naturali videlicet iure et moribus

“The human race is ruled by two things, that is, by natural law and by customs.”

These are the opening words of the first page of the first part of Gratian’s Decretum.

Fun fact: my grad-school roommate wrote his dissertation on the textual history of several Decretum manuscripts, and he won a MacArthur “genius” fellowship for it.

This initial, found at BibliOdyssey, is from a manuscript found in the library of Troyes, in France: MS. 103.

Elizabeth I, the “Ditchley Portrait,” by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger, c.1592, in the National Portrait Gallery, London. 
I’ve always loved this painting.  I love the iconography of her standing astride a map of the British Isles; I love the improbably anatomy implied by her elaborate clothing (how COULD her arms be attached to her torso in that thing?); I love the intensity and command in her eyes.  A great portrait.
Elizabeth herself was not, however, a fan.

Elizabeth I, the “Ditchley Portrait,” by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger, c.1592, in the National Portrait Gallery, London. 

I’ve always loved this painting.  I love the iconography of her standing astride a map of the British Isles; I love the improbably anatomy implied by her elaborate clothing (how COULD her arms be attached to her torso in that thing?); I love the intensity and command in her eyes.  A great portrait.

Elizabeth herself was not, however, a fan.