I've been neglecting my little journal lately as I've been a little under the weather but wanted to pop in and wish everyone a lovely and very special Christmas and New Year. The making never stops here so will be back soon to share some new lovelies in the New year! love Gracie xx
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
Sunday, 13 December 2009
Adora Bell popped in today for a festive drink and an interesting chat. I have wanted meet this talented lady for a long time and the meeting (as I suspected would) inspired me to make yet another butterfly brooch.
Adora is another eager maker but her speciality is headdresses for maidens to wear on their wedding day. BUT what make's Adora's work stand out is she uses Cloud Roses. Cloud Roses are very rare and can only be picked once every three years and only at a special time (known only by two families - one of which is the Bell's)
Cloud Roses are a pale bluey grey colour but the more happy the wearer or holder becomes; the more they're colour changes to pink (the most beautiful shade of pink imaginable) Hence; Adora is in much demand.I tried to capture these colour changes in this butterfly brooch (which is available to purchase from my little corner of folksy) Gracie xxx
Monday, 7 December 2009
This piece is literally haunting me... I can't seem to finish it. It's one of those pieces where I do a small bit then get distracted and wonder off making something else. I think it is because the subject matter is intriguing and horrifying at the same time.
Bluebeard (I'm sure you've heard of him) was not the only serial wife killer. Legend has it that my great great great great aunt had a very lucky escape from the villain in this tale. Well that's what my grandmother would tell me.
Anyway,back to the story. Well there was a wicked prince who lived in a dark and brooding castle which was perched on the edge of a cliff. This prince kept himself to himself but rumours of his spectacular and breathtaking library spread and attracted the attention of many a book loving maiden...(the book thing obviously runs in the family!)
This library was out of this world..it had a huge glass dome over it and wait for it...had a waterfall! As a child I would always point out that books and water don't really mix (and would hastily be shushed)It was heavenly, like a book itself; it was like another world. I have my suspicions it would change to cater to it's visitor's fantasies because this wicked prince attracted fourteen wives. Not all at the same time though!
Well, I'm afraid like my artwork I'm going to have to leave this story unfinished. I promise to tell the rest of the story when I show you the finished piece(which I hope will be very soon) Graciexx
Sunday, 6 December 2009
This is my favourite poem about my feathered friends.
Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day,
With night we banish sorrow:
Sweet air blow soft, mount lark aloft,
To give my love good-morrow:
Wings from the wind to please her mind,
Notes from the lark I'll borrow:
Bird, prune thy wing, nightingale sing,
To give my love good-morrow,
Notes from them all I'll borrow.
Wake from thy nest, robin red-breast,
Sing, birds, in every furrow:
And from each hill let music shrill.
Give my fair love good-morrow.
Blackbird and thrush in every bush,
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow,
You pretty elves, amongst yourselves,
Sing my fair love good-morrow.
To give my love good-morrow.
Sing, birds, in every furrow.
When my feathered friends stop by I often get a quick sketch and as I get to know each bird I see these sketches as portraits.
When my favourite journeyman gave me some birch plywood; an idea sprung to mind. I set to work cutting the plywood into circles and using them to paint my favourite feathered friend's portraits on.I decorated them with a scalloped felt edge, painted a matching wooden bead and hung them with pretty ribbon.
I hang them everywhere around the cottage...I have several over my bedroom window seat. A selection are available to purchase from my cosy corner of FOLKSY. As long as you don't mind the occasional flapping of wings...Gracie xx
Wednesday, 2 December 2009
Imagine having a library that magically restocks itself constantly. This I'm sure sounds like a dream come true to many of you and as I enter my snug library (with it's peeling duck egg blue painted walls and comfy gold coloured armchair) I still get a flutter of excitement. For some reason the room smells like jasmine and sandalwood; my grandmother and grandfather always spring to mind.
Of course the library like the rest of the cottage is part of the rich workings of the curse. As a child I would pore over books and swallow they're words as if they were a nutritional need. My mother never discouraged this (now I know she was too worried about if the curse would 'kick in' at the dreaded age of twelve)and so the curse uses this weakness for the written word against me.
All those stories and imaginings; how could anyone not be inspired. For a girl with book obsession it's not really a hardship...just tiring.
I read,then I paint what I see (what I have swallowed and absorbed) To use this artwork I have created art bookmarks which have a print of my painting on one side and on the underside a rescued page from a discarded book (makes me shudder to think who would would do such a thing!)
And it wouldn't be a Gracie Make if I didn't use some ribbon and lace to finish it off. A selection of the bookmarks will be available to purchase from my little corner of FOLKSY very soon. Keep watching out....Gracie xx