Anthropomorphica

A Poignant Tale...

2012-01-27T21:52:00.000Z

Little Norbyrt

2011-11-16T10:24:00.000Z

In dreams, he was the Little Match Girl, spending hour after mesmerising hour in front of fancy, colourful windows on perishingly cold evenings.

Accepting of this cruel fate and waiting for the warm embrace of Grandmama.

Grandmama, did not however, pull him tenderly into her warm breast when the chill found him.

It was the Governessa's icy fingers, that grasped this little one, and took him down among the willow roots to join her brood.

And hence, the fate of that sorrowful Little Norbyrt, was sealed one chilly winters eve.

The Wanderer

2011-11-10T10:54:00.000Z

On winters' eves, a wanderer traverses the paths amongst and between the threads of the seen.

A traveller of pathways above and below, the woodland realm is and is not always so.

'Twixt human, Fae and Dark Ones she rides, where night begins and twilight dies.

Deep into the shadows where all fears reside, her spotted carriage alone can go.

Sweet Magda Fair

2011-10-29T15:03:00.013+01:00

A timorous girl,

But no fool was she,

Having encountered the Fae,

Of the old willow tree.

No dream was this,

No slumber deep

That lustful sprite began to weep,

And wail he did and pound the floor,

Promises were made,

and yet,

more and more.

Alas, whilst wise her eyes,

Her heart was green,

His ficklety unoticed, unseen.

Sweet Magda fair, with the silvered hair,

How brightly she shone,

Though when sweet petals were gone,

All that remained was the bitter, sharp thorn.

Leaving soft, alabaster flesh, bloody and torn,

Gaping, with a yearning too painful to hide,

Weeping silently she tried,

To forget the vows from lips untrue,

And from her heart all love she slew.

Thus, sweet Magda fair,

Shows no more,

The brilliance of her silvery hair.

Wrapped tightly in a shroud of black,

She knows now,

That fickle sprite will not be back.

But still,

She waits,

No longer pining.

She dreams instead of dining,

On his heart, still beating,

However fleeting.

Whilst he thrashes,

And pleads,

Growing faint as he bleeds.

Soft, alabaster flesh torn.

A taste so sweet.

'Aah' sighs she,

Now replete.

Magda's tale was a twist on a ballet called La Spectre De La Rose choreographed by Michel Fokine for the Ballet Russes in 1911.

Originally danced by the magnificent Vaslav Nijinsky and the ethereal Tamara Karsavina,

with set and costumes by the master himself, Leon Bakst.

And so, I found this wonderful 2009 performance of Manuel Legris and Claude De Vulpian for you to enjoy

with a goblet of absinthe and some turkish delight...

The Unicorn Child

2011-09-28T13:31:00.000+01:00

In the darkness, there is one who comes,

who whispers the most terrifying things in her ear.

And, as the tears fall, the Shadowy One collects them one by one,

for unicorn tears hold a powerful magic.

A Tale Of The Uncontrollable And Uncontrolled Ethel Eldritch.

2011-08-13T10:55:00.003+01:00

Heeding only the wild wind's call,

this way and that she ran.

'Til silently the dark woods enfolded all around.

Caught in The Governessa's grasp, this little one.

Led by icy hand, down and down...

There, deep under the Willow and darkly cocooned, the Ghastly one has her.

"Dear Ethel Eldritch, to where will you run?"

A Glimpse of Tales Soon To Be Told

2011-07-19T18:33:00.000+01:00

Thank you all for your comments on my rather melancholy tea party. I wish I could have visited you all more often but the rural internet connection has left me swept up in a dusty corner for the last two months. Roll on satellite!

Here a glimpse of two undone but soon to be, you shall see...

The Unfinished One And The Tea Party

2011-06-25T11:38:00.002+01:00

She waited and waited

and waited in vain

Oh, she'd forgotten to tell them

she'd moved again!

Terribly sad it's true.

But, at least there was a visit,

from a curious moth or two!

For a successful party or three, please click the pic to go and see Miss V.

and the mad hoards of Tea Party revellers...

The Tower

2011-05-29T18:53:00.001+01:00

There hasn't been much of me here of late. My wandering feet have taken me off once more to pastures new and now stand hot and dusty on the hard clay earth of my new home in Eastern Spain.

Change has come with a crashing of thunder and a shaking of life's foundations. For those familiar with Tarot, The Tower sums recent times up perfectly, ferocious and terrifying but generously giving chance to clear old rubble and build anew.

The kindly folk have been so very quiet and at times I wonder if they will ever speak to me again, for I have gone so far, far away. I have a slip shadow of an inkling that they will once again find me, so, I strain my ears to the breeze and the whispering pines.

At present, life is lived with only felt and canvas separating me from the stars and raindrops.

Night passes reading quietly by candlelight and longing for a swift, shadowy movement glimpsed briefly from the corner of my eye.

Daylight brings with it wheelbarrows of stones, an emerging veggie patch and shade sought from the fiery glare overhead.

It's a strange feeling to have reached a dream and to realise the, at times, overwhelming responsibility of it's reality. I understand the folk who shy away from reaching for it and those who bolt just as it's in sight. For with it comes many hard lessons, questioning and soul searching and the dawning realization, that the dream, is not the end of the journey as one thought, but the very beginning. The tangible sense of creating a reality is at once frightening and exciting.

During the bright hours Mathilda lurks deep within her case and the dark silence of Eduardo my quiet, bookish faun is deafening!

Speak Dear Ones for I am listening...

Dark Days And Happiness

2011-04-20T20:36:00.003+01:00

The time had come to bid goodbye to the ones that had become.

Quentin ever nervous in his nest, with his pebble for companionship and fearsome mask to ward off any vagabonds, wends his way. Iris and Violet bound in their lichen covered cradles slept soundly for the journey ahead...

Farewell Quentin

Iris

and Violet.

I'll see thee anon...

Unfortunata (otherwise known as Maude)

2011-04-09T12:19:00.002+01:00

At times the Governessa gets it wrong and steals one that will never be.

Hungry soul Maude, was ravenous and longing, for just one tiny nibble of a shiny black Raven Apple.

But not for nothing are they called Raven Apples. For no sooner than she reached up to pluck one from the gnarled branch, down swooped the raven to pluck out her eyes.

Poor Maude dropped dead of fright on the spot with not a morsel on her lips.

The unfortunate one was banished to spend eternity at the point of no return for her indiscretions.

Is that light at the end of the tunnel?

I'm afraid not Maude!

A sorry soul

Lucretia

2011-04-03T16:52:00.002+01:00

Lucretia (formerly Lettuce Fluffweed) was a dabbler in the Black Artes who owl blasted with impunity.

Until, one careless day she cast a hex with her blackthorn stick upturned

And turned herself into a little grey mouse...

Pssst...

Are you curious about the rest of The Weesk's journey?

Then spy through the keyhole of Evelyns Wonderland...

Raven Mother

2011-03-31T18:13:00.001+01:00

I know! It's terrible, but it's true, I am putting some of my little ones up for adoption (gasp).

The Governessa has had quite enough of this threesome. It appears that butter wouldn't melt but they really are a rabble!

I'm afraid, The Woo cannot bare to be here without The Weesk, she is looking for a new home too. Though between you and me, I think the boiling bat urine was the final straw!

Weesk And The Woo (Part II...)

2011-03-28T21:09:00.005+01:00

The Woo has undergone some changes since last we saw her, the life of a Watcher is not without it's hazards. Sneaky peeking through a blackthorn hedge at the comings and goings therein, she was unkindly squirted in the eye with boiling bat's urine.

Why it was boiling and who, I shall not say... but it has left The Woo with one eye drawn in under a moon milk glaze.

The bumps and lumps you now see, are mementoes of secrets and circumstance spied, growing and groaning a little more with each passing moon.

Until at last, The Woo, is as stiff and knobbly as a gnarled tree root, neither moving nor peeking, waiting eternally to be reborn.

So, do watch where you tread in the forest and what you choose to carve.
Many a watcher has been undone that way!

Poor Weesk, who already had enough of his own woes, couldn't bare to forsee a life of helping after sticky helping of others misery, misfortune or mischief.

And so, our dear Weesk soon disappeared,

secretly and silently he slipped away through the city to a world, not entirely unlike our own.

The Woo, in a terrible state, sqwawked and clutched her breast as she searched on and on, through pond and glen and bog and briar. Well, she had a quick nosey around the house!

But in her haste she missed the spot, where first I saw him behind the pots, and there I spied, a fine and silvery sliver beckoning by the draughty window. It was a curious note scratched and scrawled on papery birch bark.

gon teee vlings

byond netl patch

wiv byrd

Weesk had left us with his nettle stung eyes smarting. The mossy coated creature of the stumps and rocks, found a sheltered enclave, out of harms way, with Evelyn and her bird boy

But, the Kindly Ones do like to trade and so left with us our sweet oneiric one, dreaming of deep oceans no doubt.

"Good riddance!" Huffs The Woo.

But when I look, I see her eyes are smarting too.

Thinking Of Japan

2011-03-15T00:19:00.018Z

image by circus doll

"We are no more than candles burning in the wind."
Japanese proverb

Artist Cendrine Rovini and photographer Chris Jones have organised a limited print run of their wonderful collaboration "Fortitude In The Face Of Planets" to raise funds for relief work in Japan.
A piece of original art work for a very worthy cause, the prints can be found here.

Primoeza is holding a raffle for one of her beautifully crafted sweaters and is donating the ticket sales to the Red Cross, $500 dollars so far!
The raffle will be drawn at the end of March.

I am donating 50% of all scarf sales from my Etsy shop to the relief effort.

Until the end of March.

Thank you Alla, Rebecca and Kylla for your support, it's greatly appreciated.

Thousands of Etsy sellers are donating the proceeds of sales,
click here to see the goodies on offer.

Or donations can be made directly to the Red Cross for relief work in Japan.

How Silently She Sleeps

2011-03-08T22:33:00.005Z

On a whispers breath she arrived, softly wrapped and bound by fingers that sculpt and form, a delicate magick of fragile enchantments.

Softly and silently she slept on...

We watched and wondered not daring a breath, does she sleep still? Or is this fair one residing betwixt and between, neither wholly here nor there?

Nettle limps, tiny hobbling foot and curiosity drawing her ever closer to dear sweet Juliet

A tug on a cape and over goes the peg legged Nettle

Really Mathilda!!!!

But where is our dear sweet Weesk?

I feel absolutely blessed to have received Juliet, I caught my breath as I opened the parcel and saw her exquisitely, delicate form, her simplicity and fragility.

Juliet was created by Evelyn Santiago, a wonderful artist and dear friend.

Thank you Evelyn!

A Wistful Reemergence

2011-03-08T21:03:00.000Z

Of Flying Buttresses And Beetle Wings

2011-02-12T21:17:00.001Z

Awoken in the small hours, the half light yet but a promise.

Still the Ghastly Governessa beckons shrill and insistent to a waking dream of Notre Dame, singing bones, beetle wings, Victorian velvets and cage crinolines.

The time flew by swiftly with much resolved and change afoot.

As the Governessa lay there, we reminded her of her wisdom pearls, freely given to the Ones in her charge.
"Transformations are often painful and prickly, like a briar patch. Struggle will merely drive the thorns deeper."

I feel bony fingers pinch my arm, "Slice deeply my dear, just to be sure" smirks Mathilda as she passes me the knife.

So, here our Governessa, dismembered in order to become.

Of the Stolen Ones you have met the elder, Violet, candy floss wisped and webbed footed. An Old One, she listens and watches. More knowing than she appears and not as fragile as her powder pink hair would imply.

Iris and Quentin, sweet Violet's companions in the Shadow Land, dear souls, have emerged.

Iris, horned and not averse to stamping a cloven hoof, is a rebellious charge. Anarchy reigns in her heart and in her blood lava flows.

The thorns claw at her gossamer skin but defiant she remains, thrusting sky wards her tiny snub nose.

Quentin is a lonely soul much used to his own company, shared only by his dearest pebble. Not that he doesn't occasionally kick him as far away as his spindly legs can manage.

If you look carefully you can see the evidence of his worn through shoe.

Last evening, I found myself searching out my Grandfather's calligraphy pens, paints, brushes and hand made quills.

Not content until I'd given them a place on my table, I realised it was the eve of his birthday.

Was this, perhaps, a gentle reminder that he watches still? An unbroken thread weaving through the veil.

In memory of my beloved Grandfather,

B. D. Roper

12th February 1915 - 23rd May 2004

A Brief Interlude...

2011-02-11T22:51:00.001Z

Oh unhinged one, are you out there?

'Tis time to frolic with the Lord of Misrule.

The Un-blooming of Violet

2011-01-26T18:03:00.001Z

All A Quandary

2011-01-05T18:57:00.002Z

The Stolen Ones are still becoming, footfall by tiny footfall.

They slip in and out of Shadow, bristling, cowering, wailing, at times defiant of the quiet despair that creeps.

Change is often a slow and painful process but horns and wing tips appear,

hither and thither.

The Ghastly Governessa casts her haughty glance, always disapproving with a tut here and there.
So I leave her, barefaced,

with a stick up her bottom.

As I tame unruly fibres and construct skirts of bones,

Gertrude tweeks her tricorn and sighs, for as yet her story is untold.

But all the while owls swoop and the wild woods call.

May The Year Be So Full Of Thorns That We Can Appreciate The Berries?

2011-01-03T13:42:00.030Z

The merry year is born

Like the bright berry from the naked thorn.
~Hartley Coleridge

*Dear Lakhsmita, thank you for your lovely witchiness and for knowing I would love this sublime CocoRosie offering!*

Bright Blessings For The Winter Solstice!

2010-12-21T17:34:00.009Z

It's a magical winter solstice eve tonight, the fullest, brightest moon wearing a cloud ring of silver and gunmetal. Hope it's as beautiful where you are.

Bright blessings to you xxx

A Festive Chill in The Air

2010-12-13T16:54:00.000Z

Not all those who wander are lost...

2010-12-09T10:25:00.000Z

Skipping through woods

Watching autumn

Turn to winter

Peering through the Snow Queen's looking glass

Welcoming The Horned One

Creeping through corridors of

Midnight meanderings

Searching for the stolen ones

Bewildered

But never lost

Happy Samhain's Eve

2010-10-31T20:55:00.001Z

Don't forget to leave some treats out for the wee folk, lest you don't wake up on the morrow ;)

Set the turnips aglow and enjoy the shenanigans and festivities this Hallow's Eve!

Madame Tutli-Putli

2010-10-30T23:25:00.004+01:00

Halloween Bash

2010-10-16T21:16:00.008+01:00

Welcome to our Halloween Bash, do come in and take a seat...

Would you like a cup of spiced cider, an acorn, a faery apple or perhaps another treat?

Look who's here, it's Abigale in all her party finery and Myrtle's just arriving too!

Gertrude plonks down next with hem singed and charred, been dancing too close to the bone-fire again, no doubt!!

"Spiced Spider brew?" asks Abigale.

"Yes please! It's my favourite too!"squeals Gertrude

Mathilda's here but what's she doing leaning over the cauldron?

Is she checking the loveliness of her new hat?

Oh, but wait, what's that? A spell I hear?

Double Double toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

Turd of bird and brain of rat;

Abra-stinky-cadaver or something like that.

Frill of Flouncer and toe of bat...

Oh, my giddy Aunt what is that?!!

'Tis the Ghostly Governessa and she's not best pleased!!

"MISCREANT MATHILDA! YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR DEEDS"

Not thinking it through, a raspberry Mathilda blew...

"MOCK ME WOULD YOU!!!" shrieked the Ghostly Governessa

and quickly she blew, enough disco dust upon them, to cover 92!!

"What's happening?" wailed Mathilda "My feet just won't stay still, I really can't stop dancing and am feeling rather ill!!"

"♪♫ ♪ ♫ It's astounding, time is fleeting, madness takes it's toll... ♪♫ ♪ ♫"

"♪♫ ♪ ♫It's just a jump to the left,

then a step to the right.... ♪♫ ♪ ♫"

Let's leave them be and drink our tea, they'll still be dancing in a week or three!!

Then we'll hop back on our broom's and pay a visit to our host Vanessa Valencia at A Fanciful Twist she has parties galore and everyone's invited ;)

Ghoulish Goings On...

2010-10-16T11:29:00.007+01:00

We do hope you can attend

Tonight at 8pm (GMT) or thereabouts

Bring your own maggots!

Mathilda

Alma

2010-10-15T12:48:00.000+01:00

Miss Havisham's Mayhem

2010-10-11T21:18:00.002+01:00

I often dreamt of becoming a Miss Havisham who would wear tatty ballgowns and far too much make up, stink of wee, have hundreds of cats and curl up in front of the fire place with four lurchers. I would amuse myself by sticking lollipops to ladies fur coats (ok, so I've already done that) and peeing myself on public transport. The dream has changed slightly, now I want a beard too!

EEEK!

2010-09-08T16:23:00.001+01:00

Mathilda has informed me that unless I get blogging again "heads will roll" and you know Mathilda...

I'm afraid it may already be too late for Fatty The Magpie!

Gertrude is still waiting for her story to be told, Olive and Edgar are pinching the insides of my eyeballs in a bid for freedom and The Governess is is a terrible state of undress and tuts each time I pass. Patience is no virtue for the Fae it seems!!!

Abigale

2010-07-26T17:21:00.003+01:00

A parcel arrived, what could it be?

"Surely" said Mathilda "It's all for me!"

Tis true, she's been begging and pleading for another baldy head.

A sister with a shiny pate and little twiggy legs!

The wonderful Miss Evelyn agreed to share her kin,

Abigale arrived last week from her wonderland

I do hope she settles in.

Dear sweet Abigale, a fragile and exquisite creature, a tiny bird who finds herself most at home on Gertrude's lap. Don't worry Evelyn, Mathilda loves her dearly, she hasn't even pinched her yet!

Alice's Evidence....

2010-07-10T16:57:00.011+01:00

"Oh, the Queen Of Hearts,

Was quite the tart..."

Wait, that's not the Queen...

Mathilda!

You didn't...

You did!!

Oh, well...

Long live Queen Alice?!!!

Erm, Mathilda! Where's Alice, may I ask?...

For a peek at some more Alice in Wonderland inspired dolls,

please visit the other participants in this months Art Dolls Only event.

Glad you could come, the fun has just begun....

2010-06-26T13:45:00.013+01:00

Myrtle and Eduardo are the first to arrive

"Is that what I think it is?" squeaks Mathilda when she spies Eduardo's mysterious bottle.

"Yes, dear Mathilda. It belonged to Great Grandpapa, his famous vintage Birch and Amanita wine, thought I'd share a drop or too. Hmmm, it looks like that belonged to Great Grandpapa too!"

Eduardo said as he caught sight of Myrtle's brand new shoe...

Oh dear, looks like Myrtle's been pillaging the burial grounds again!!!!

What sumptuous delights! Gertrude brought a delicious macarron filled with cream and strawberries, Myrtle a rare and delicious egg and Nelimosa (the flouncer) brought a Snortleberry Surprise.

None of this has escaped Weesk and The Woo, who are peering through and drooling too...

"Won't you have some Moss Dew cordial and join us dear Woo" asks Mathilda

"Moss Dew cordial?"

"Yes" snickers Mathilda.

"Come Woo have some Snortleberry Surprise" invites Nelimosa " I made it myself" she boasts.

"Those aren't Snortleberries" indignantly cries The Woo

"Surprise!!!!!" chortles Nelimosa.

Don't worry!! Weesk is here as well , enjoying Strawberries with Gertrude but not a drop of Amanita brew ;)

He knew, unlike The Woo that Moss Dew cordial doesn't stink and turn your brain to stew!!

Please forgive him for not telling her of Mathilda's dastardly plan, you see she's been rubbing stinging nettles in his eyes for mishaps and naps!

But wait who's that upon the fern? It's the Christmas witch, oh no! Did no-one invite her at all?

Oh we're sorry Witchy-Poo, this will never do. Twas all a rush and in our haste we forgot to visit your tree!!

"Oh dear friends, I'm afraid I cursed you in my despair" wailed the Christmas witch. "I called upon The Galibeast, he'll crunch your bones and eat you up!!!"

" But I've only worn this hat once" sighed Mathilda.

"Don't despair, The Beast can be pacified with a slurp of your lovely egg!"

Be still and show no fear, The Galibeast approaches....

Yippee it's working!! But where is The Woo? Did he crunch her bones and eat her up too?

No, she's here under a bush, with an un-Snortleberry stuck to her nose. Looks like the Amanita brew got the best of her too!!

Anyone fancy a cup of tea?

Still hungry? For much munching of magic and more mad teas jump through the portal here

A Mad Tea Party

2010-06-26T12:39:00.002+01:00

You are cordially invited to attend our Mad Tea Party.

Mathilda has put on her best hat and Myrtle her shiny new shoe, even Eduardo my bookish faun is wearing his party scarf...

I wondered what she was doing in my felt bag.

Very proud of her pretty bow and new hoof.

Such a dandy.

Please don't be late the fun starts in a few moments more!!

Weesk And The Woo

2010-06-25T10:01:00.006+01:00

After my meeting with Weesk, I became ever curious as to who is The Woo. Of course, I didn't quite know where to begin. So, I enlisted the help of Myrtle Clumpett as I remembered that she was also of the Watcher clan, albeit disgraced (but that's another story!)
With my beloved Myrtle's help it didn't take long to locate their burrow.

The Woo, or Prudence The Prude, (as Myrtle calls her) was none too pleased at the sight of Myrtle and I. Poor Weesk was plainly horrified, lest I let slip that we had already met!

Knowing that Weesk likes to wag his chin far more than is proper, The Woo sent him out to collect supplies for their storehouse and some new moss for her carpet.

" Mind you don't dilly dally and keep your eyes open"

"I do hope they won't tell I was captured" worried Weesk.

"Oh dear, I do hope he doesn't bring lichen" muttered The Woo.

The Woo is fastidious about the upkeep of her mossy carpet and only the softest and greenest will do.

Weesk

2010-06-22T15:31:00.010+01:00

I'd heard a scurrying from behind my mannequin and plant pots all day but each time I looked there was nothing there. I had no idea what it was until, I saw this little one scampering towards the window.

I scooped him up, despite his protests that he would be in "oh, such terrible trouble" if he was delayed, and promised to take him out to the garden myself, if he would share his tale with me.

His name is Weesk, a fledgling watcher and gleaner, apprentice of The Woo and general curious soul.

He's severely punished should he miss a moment or a tiny detail, hence the red eyes, they've been open for weeks (even when he sleeps).

Weesk came to visit on an secret adventure of much importance! I begged him to tell me about it and he did, but shhh, don't tell The Woo!

Gertrude, the plot thickens...

2010-06-14T15:11:00.003+01:00

Gertrude has been enjoying her time with the Fae of late, making crowns of ever abundant lilac buds and even helping in the harvest of woodlice for pickling. As each new day dawns she firmly plucks a nettle leaf and pops it into the teapot for their early morning brew.

The Fae in turn are ever so impressed with this sweet hearted maiden and have gifted her a painted mask with the most sparkling viridian eyes.

Why a mask? You'll have to wait and see...

There, there Gertrude.

2010-06-01T11:54:00.011+01:00

After last weeks capers poor bewildered Gertrude was badly in need of a little TLC. While I gently teased and tweaked Gertrude's mane, Myrtle and Mathilda scuttled off among the undergrowth. Quite some time passed before they reappeared, it seems they had stumbled upon a long forgotten stash of pickled woodlouse, but in their hands was a beautiful stem of lilac buds.

Mathilda gently wove it into Gertrude's hair as if to make amends, "how sweet" I thought, until I caught dear Mathilda wantonly twisting a lock of hair around her fingers and chased her off. She just can't help herself!

Jean Harlow And The Unfortunate One...

2010-05-25T10:37:00.001+01:00

Oh Gertrude! What happened to your lovely golden tresses?

Methinks Mathilda knows.

Pretty Maids All In A Row

2010-05-08T11:20:00.018+01:00

Spring seems to be in and out of the air lately but nature's children are uncomplaining, they dance with the icy winds one moment and bathe in golden light the next.

The woods are teeming with life and beautifully abundant with bluebells and fresh green ferns, spring fever is gaining hold and the time came for Mistress Rabbit to show her face at last...

Mistress Rabbit and the headless one.

I was tempted and inspired by the lovely long eared creations of Evelyn's Wonderland and Harem6 and decided it was time the Mistress came out to play. Here she is in various states of undress... Mistress was not amused!!

Mistress in all her finery, sweet Mathilda was fancying the ribbon for her bird cage!

Then along came Deadly Nightshade...

A delicate flower of the forest, one could be forgiven for thinking her fragility a weakness. Sadly, a dark and terrifying mistake to make! She may gambol and frolic among the fungi with the birds and butterflies, but woe betide those who capture or harm the sweet souls of the woods...

A darkling's work is never done.

Bloody Mindedness And The Laws Of Physics...

2010-04-28T15:01:00.014+01:00

Almost there, though she's yet to tell me her tale, shy or tight-lipped? Mmmm who's to say!

But how she loves to flounce!!!!

Forever the Engineer's daughter... with that big round head and spindly feet, I tinkered and toiled to make sure this fellow could stand. The laws of physics certainly tried my patience!

I love the creatures that peek through the cracks in the universe at me and I desperately yearn to squeeze through and join them. Reading W.B. Yeats' The Stolen Child made it all the worse but inspired me and I decided to try my hand at a human doll. Well, human-ish, she has the eyes of a Jay. Why? All will be revealed in time...

She's a long time in the making, with tantrums thrown in I'm ashamed to say!! On her third body right now and hopefully symmetrical!!

"I didn't do it, honest"

Laid to rest... Hee hee, something gleefully morbid about that!

Another disembodied darkling of the woods.

Dolly Daydreams And Hermitude

2010-04-10T13:30:00.017+01:00

At times I find it tricky to keep up with my blog, I've never been a diary keeper or thoughtful ponderer, more a scribbler of pictures and collector of natures bric-a-brac. My thoughts are often unstructured and tricky little glimmers and shadows, gone as quickly as they appear!

The change of season from winter into spring left me sitting in an introverted mood for some time, which is forever a blessing when it comes to inspiration and getting busy with things of a creative nature. I've been reading, pottering, collecting, seeking, sketching, sculpting and daydreaming and thoroughly enjoying every exciting moment of it.

A bureau-full of findlings and fish eyes.

Mathilda and Eduardo have their feet done, while new folk emerge...

Let me show you some spectacularly wonderful dolls....

2010-02-23T22:04:00.018Z

Ildiko and Flavia of Harem6 have made me so happy! I fell in love with sweet Luisa when they opened their Etsy shop in December and today I practically fell off my chair in a swoon when I popped back for a visit.

They're an incredibly talented pair and have created something so original and so endearing in their dolls. I hope dear reader that you will find them as breathtaking as I do.....

Oh sweet, sweet Luisa

Maaike (the magnificent!) she grabbed my heart and imagination all at the same time, when I pondered what land she came from...

Rusalka floating around two as one

Lee-Lou, what wouldn't I do for those ears!!

Myrtle And Mathilda

2010-02-17T13:10:00.014Z

Myrtle and Mathilda are patient souls, I've been promising to find the time to add their finishing touches, unfortunately, that time is not yet upon me. Sigh....

So, here they are in their various states of undress, I had sworn to Myrtle that I would fashion her a new shoe and poor old Mathilda's hooves still look like an unsightly pair of white socks.

Myrtle Clumpett, the owl girl.

Such a pretty wee thing!

Mathilda Crowbird, not best pleased with her ivory tootsies...

However, loves her new gift, perhaps I am forgiven...

Here's a little chappie still to be. Wall mounted or brooch? Hmmmm, decisions, decisions!!

An Unusual Beauty

2010-02-10T13:24:00.005Z

I spy with my little eye something beginning with B....

Bjork by Mark Ryden, a wonderful piece of impishly, curious magic.

Frida,Frida,Frida

2010-02-04T18:52:00.010Z

I took a leisurely stroll though the kingdom of blog today and what do you suppose I found, only a homage to one of my most beloved of artists Frida Kahlo by dollmaker Christine Alvarado. The Three Fridas is an exquisite creation and to me really embodies her life and her work, I was excited and delighted to have stumbled upon her.

not been a particularly faithful blogmaiden!

2010-01-11T17:20:00.018Z

'Tis true, I'm afraid, pink and shame-faced, here I am. Methinks it's time for a catch up!

Autumn came and went, and dolly making made way for felting. I took part in a couple of craft and design fairs, in Brighton and London. A lovely time was had in Brighton, I stayed at Paskins Town House and had a cozy bed and delicious organic breakfasts washed down with a huge pot of tea. It was a stones throw from the sea and a short stroll to the venue. Fairs are always a tricky affair, but I met some wonderful people and had the great fortune of having my stand next to Chris and Tanya, both ceramicists who I got to gossip, giggle and eat cake and Japanese food with. They kept my spirit high when it could have been heading for the door.

The most amazing experience that weekend was catching up with a long lost friend (20 years, eek!) who showed me the best bits of Brighton in a howling gale, while we nattered and chatted.

In London I chanced upon the work of Dan Hillier, I was smitten and have vowed to treat myself to a piece one day!!

Christmas was a sparkly, delicious affair with pomegranate seeds on everything and plenty of books! I hauled out the old bent tree and adorned it with my beloved Grandfather's christmas witch, a finer tree fairy there surely never was!

We've had plenty of snow this year which added to the magic no end, with crunchy, chilly walks with The Galibeast and pink skies.

The new year has rolled in and I'm preparing for imbolc, refocusing on my dolls and daydreaming of pictures not yet painted.

All felt and no play!!

2009-09-15T20:54:00.012+01:00

Not wanting to whinge about my good fortune, I'm taking part in MADE 09 in Brighton, but it does mean there'll be no dolly dabblings for me for a while ;(

Instead I'll be cracking on with my felt work, which I am loving as always. My Etsy shop is somewhat sparse for now, but abundance lays ahead in my felt garden, it just loves the cold!

So, as I won't have much work of my own to show on this dolly blog I will take this chance to show the work of creative magi and bewitchers over the coming weeks. Starting with my favourites from Black-Eyed Suzie more about her here

Aaah, sweet Freya, how I wish I had those antlers on top of my own head

This beauty was a custom order, imagine having an interpretation of yourself in dollworld, it's just magical. I especially love her clothing and that crow like umbrella.

Introducing the exquisite Mme. Frontenac who received her husband's heart in a lead box!!!

The melancholy huntsman's daughter

Last but by no means least The Faun Girl, I love this doll, her antlers and hooves and otherworldly gaze.

So many treasures, so hard to whittle them down to a few photos.

Rainy Mondays

2009-08-10T09:22:00.018+01:00

Aah, rainy Mondays- snails, soggy dogs and a magical gloom that fills the air. A perfect setting to enjoy the wondrous worlds of Lewis Carroll and Tim Burton, I can't wait to see this!

Here's a link to the online book illustrated by the magnificent Arthur Rackham.

Enjoy ;)

Meet Olive and Edgar

2009-08-09T12:21:00.006+01:00

The Wee Folk are coming to me thick and fast these days and I'm trying to capture them before they disappear down the dusty corridors, never to be seen again.
Here are Olive (on the left) and Edgar a pair of hirsute twinlets, poor old Edgar usually has to traipse along wherever Olive wants to go, except for when it comes to gazing at the patterns of the sky in murky puddles, where he firmly stands his ground.
They can often be seen sucking on moss, and admiring the silvery patterns created by snails and slugs. Shooting stars of the dirt is what Edgar calls them.
Olive's best friend (except for Edgar) is Stinking Russula (more of her later).

The Colour of Pomegranates

2009-07-29T21:52:00.000+01:00

This is a film by Sergei Parajanov, I want to share it because he created such visually stunning films. Here is part 1 of the film....
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The Seasons - beautiful Animation...

2009-07-20T23:03:00.000+01:00

Sweet and delightful Russian animation

2009-07-20T00:26:00.000+01:00

Gruesome Finds!

2009-07-19T22:52:00.003+01:00

Taking a stroll with my dog the Galibeast in the park today, I came across a couple of grisly finds, courtesy of the local foxes or cats. A nicely intact section of a birds wing and a little further along a well stripped, if not slightly mangled rib cage which I quickly stowed inside a dog poo bag and is now residing in the sink in my studio. Mmmmm, next comes the clean up and then hopefully I'll be able to use them in a little dolly creation or two.

But believe me, for a veggie, the clean up will be somewhat stomache churning, I still have a bird carcass in salt that I've been too chicken (pardon the pun) to strip the feathers off it's tiny skull yet. Not to mention the magpie head that is hidden under a bush, in order to let nature clean it up for me. If this sounds all too "Wasp Factory" for you, let me stress the birdy bodies (R.I.P.) were all unfortunate victims of animal feastings and possibly a road accident in the case of the beheaded magpie!!

Waste not want not!!!

Welcome to my world...

2009-07-14T16:14:00.001+01:00

I’ve just started on my doll making journey, having tinkered with needle felted creatures I was finally inspired to run out and buy a pack of paper clay by the wonderful, ethereal and spirit-ful creations of Blackeyedsuzie. I spent hours devouring her blog, seeing how she has grown as an artist and feeding my imagination with possibilities.

I've always loved fairy tales, mythical creatures and the "unseen"energies that surround and permeate us. I hope to capture some of the magical possibilities that are second nature to us as children in my dolls.

Here’s a post of my first paper clay headed doll Eduardo, a sensitive, slightly nervous soul who you may find peering through the bracken in moonlit woods.

He’s a work in progress but you’ll get the gist.