My brain feels like the inside of a bell today, sent vibrating very easily. I was looking at the statue link from tnh_particles and came upon one of the outdoor, weathered versions of this statue. And this is the problem with fantasy worldbuilding using real world history: I am deeply creeped by this. It has nothing to do with the "Coat of Peace" in the description, as far as I'm concerned. I know exactly what that statue is and why it's near that building in Stockholm (as well as several other European locations, I find), and believe you me, it is Not Okay. And this is very different from the time we went to the Rosicrucian Garden and started seeing Tim Powers moments everywhere. This is where the portion of my brain that writes these books starts scrambling backwards, whimpering, trying to get away as fast as possible. Most of my brain knows that that statue is not that scary, as folds of bronze go. The rest of my brain knows what Jatta Vaara did to the sculptor, and why.
Fruitbat. I know.
And then the other thing was another major keystone for The True Tale of Carter Hall, and they've fallen together enough that it's noveling away in my head, novel novel novel. Not writing it until I'm done with Sampo revisions, but notes, yes, notes we can have. Extensive notes. Notely notes.
Don't think I don't notice what you're doing, brain! I'm onto your brainly tricks!