28th "WE HOPE YOU HAD A GREAT
CHRISTMAS!" EVEN WE TAKE TIME OFF WORK (bloooooooog-ing excepted . . . .)
Hope you all had a great time.
Time now to sharpen the pencils!
Meanwhile,
we must return soon . . .
to the magic studio garden . . . .
Soon . . . . Peter & Debbie
27th "HOPE YOU HAVE HAD AN
ILLUMINATED CHRISTMAS!" It's winding-down for most,
but . . . .
Carry the good cheer forward, for
the coming week.
Continue to light-up your day - and somebody else's too.
Meanwhile,
we must return soon . . .
to the magic studio garden . . . .
(to see what has occurred in our absence!)
The Ogre was humming, Do Re Mi, Tra La. The Witch danced a Jig, skirts twirling, hands a clapping.
The Elves chortled and laughed in the sheer joy of the, unpaid
for, entertainment, and, the Imps and Pixies plucked the
strings of their mandolins and guitars . .
. .
In the Oak tree, the Owl prepared for his night of hunting prey. It was Boxing Day with bells, unabridged, from morn till dusk.
The dogs shot out from house to
garden. Stampeded round and round the
garden. Succeeded in spooking even the ghostly Wolves and Wolverines?!
The Wizard, quite simply, blew his gasket, shook his fists and muttered curses. He stomped back and forth to finally burst and, with saturnine expression, cast a spell. The dogs were, to all intents, transformed to sculpture art . . .
. Peter & Debbie
26th "HAVE AN ILLUMINATED CHRISTMAS!" It's still ongoing . . . .
Still time to enjoy good cheer.
And light-up your day - and somebody else's too.
Meanwhile,
back at the magic studio garden . . . .
Christmas Day has been filtered from the "look forward to's" of
this year. Gifts have been given, received, accepted, rejected. Placed somewhere safe or put away to become a future gift for a friend during the approaching next year .
. . .
The Elves were unlikely to
consider this idea. All things and everything belonged
to them?!
The Flower Faeries had set up a sort of "gift bank." Their discarded rejects would be
donated to poor city Faeries living in
ruined buildings, building sites and in the gutters.
The Unicorn was, at this hour, transporting the Witch to visit relatives on a planet far beyond Mercury. Obscure!
The Ogre was not to be seen - would reappear on the morrow, with a belly ache, sore bottom from too long sitting, and a very sore head!
The Goblin and Elf were returned to the fold, happy to potter, to re-connect with habits, to re-establish routines, etc. etc . . . .
The Magician had flown in on the back of the Dragon, his forgetful Wizard friend dozing behind him.
With the Ghosts and Spectres and the ghostly Wolves and
Wolverines, the garden was literatum -
chockablock. Interesting . . . .
What shall come to pass tonight? Peter & Debbie
25th "A CHRISTMAS WALK " Sometimes, even we don't do any
work (blogging doesn't count).
A pre-Christmas lunch walk in the
sunshine, around Hereford.
Meanwhile,
back at the magic studio garden . . . .
Christmas. Christmas . . . . and the Witch was preparing Eggnog, Spiced Apple drink, gingerbread men and marzipan sweets.
The Elves had hung their stockings
on the bushes closest to their
"retreat." T'was a foregone conclusion that, no matter the weather, a Faerie bearing gifts, would, in the depths of the night, have left a little "something" for
each.
The Imps and the Pixies, irked by the hustle and bustle, traveled to far distant,
unpopulated or scarce-populated, lands.
The Flower Faeries rested, their pre-Christmas duties over. The Unicorn would need grooming, sure, but everything else . . . . too bad?!
The Ogre was to visit obscure
relatives - somewhere and the Gremlin and Goblin? Who knows where they were this
Christmas tide?!
The Dragon would arrive towards
evening and the Weasel, Stoat and Water
Rat were spending a short break with the Mermaid.
Whoops, here's the Wizard.
Christmas cheers to you all! Peter & Debbie
24th "THE DRAGON GALLERY " Well, that's what we call the
lounge at the Green Dragon Hotel in Hereford.
Among the interesting paintings,
drawings and prints that hang there is this one.
Dating from the 1800s, it reminds
me a bit of John Singer Sargent.
So far, our attempts to trace the
artist have resulted in zero.
Meanwhile,
back at the magic studio garden . . . .
The Grunge bag was moaning, sniffling and sneezing. The creatures of the garden
steered port and starboard, any which way to avoid the grouchy
Grunge.
The Elves and Imps and Pixie folk were strumming their mandolins, their banjos and their Elfin
guitars.
The birds of Rhiannon had
endeavoured to accompany them in song -
however . . . . the flatness of the rendering and the tonelessness slowly, slowly wore them down.
As the morning progressed, the Gremlin and the Goblin, handsome in their suits, stomped across the lawn dragging cumbersome, unimaginably heavy,
trunk/suitcases.
The Fantasy station emerged from
invisibility. In the distance, the hoot of a
train could be heard.
The Ogre's "station" was taken by the Dragon and Unicorn, conversing upon magic, myths and legends and the history of mythical beasts.
The Witch and the Wizard were playing Patience and Snap. Later in the day they'd add Whist
and Poker . . . .
The Mermaid sang, the Water Rat bellowed, and the Flower Faeries perched
delicately on winter rose bushes and giggled
and gossiped.
Buon Natale!! Peter & Debbie
23rd "STONE UNICORN" All attempts
to discover the origin of this stone carving elude us.
On a wall, at
St. George's Field in Hereford, on a morning walk
. . . . .
Meanwhile,
back at the magic studio garden . . . .
The traffic was crawling, caterpillar mode and the Pixies, Imps and Frog were on tenterhooks - late for a party . . . .
"Perhaps the Lady of the Mead will late be, too? And - the Elfin grotto is empty, the Elves disinterested. The Ogre would be gigantically in the way."
Time wended its weary way to the hour of darkness, when the star-spangled lights lit the garden with rainbows.
Those invited arrived in their celebration finery. The Orchestra tuned their
instruments and the party commenced.
T'was a night of glad tidings, caroling and joy. The Fantasy creatures were easy
together - until their Fantasy New Year?! Peter & Debbie
22nd "A FANTASY BRIDGE" Victoria Bridge, Hereford An 1898 foot-bridge in Hereford commemorating the Diamond Jubilee
of Queen Victoria. It crosses the River Wye.
Meanwhile,
back at the magic studio garden . . . .
The traffic was crawling, caterpillar mode and the Pixies, Imps and Frog were on tenterhooks - late for a party . . . .
"Perhaps the Lady of the Mead will late be, too? And - the Elfin grotto is empty, the Elves disinterested. The Ogre would be gigantically in the way."
Time wended its weary way to the hour of darkness, when the star-spangled lights lit the garden with rainbows.
Those invited arrived in their celebration finery. The Orchestra tuned their
instruments and the party commenced.
T'was a night of glad tidings, caroling and joy. The Fantasy creatures were easy
together - until their Fantasy New Year?! Peter & Debbie
21st "GHOSTLY ABSTINENCE" When enjoying your Christmas
tipple,
- just be grateful you are
still a tangible being . . . .
Meanwhile,
out in the magic studio garden . . . .
Crêpe de chine, spider web gossamer and pearls, the Witch was "on show," so to
speak, before the carriage arrived to transport her to the Witches'
ball.
The Witch had had an exhausting
day, looking after the Ogre. His arthritis was painful, his tummy upset and his mood was
dour.
The Flower Faeries had long ago retired to sleep, worn down by the Elves' unkind and thoughtless nitpicking.
The Ogre, too, had gone home to
rest, (after sleeping all day). Twas the Unicorn onliest left in the garden, to champ the grasses and drink from the crystal clear
water of the garden pond . . . . Peter & Debbie
20th "EVEN DRAGONS WANT TO ENJOY
CHRISTMAS" The Dragon has had lessons
this year - about how to let joy into
his life.
He may, however, need
reminders from time to time . . . . . . .
Daily, even.
And so,
out in the magic studio garden . . . .
The house would have to undergo a post-Christmas spruce. Buckets and mops, dusters and polish. Aprons and pinafores, rubber gloves and bristle brushes.
The Elves, Imps and Pixies were banned from entry from today 'til the New Year . . . .
The Cook breathed a sigh of relief, (she badly needs a break) donned her apron, kitchen gloves and toque blanche hat . . . . Began banging saucepans and cooking pots, rattling cutlery etc.
The Head gardener had little left
to do, the under gardeners raked the
paths and cleared the shed and the greenhouse.
The Witch was casting Christmas
spells in response to requests or "I
want" wish lists from families she knew to be too
poor to celebrate festivals save by
dance or song.
As the cuckoo clock chimed 12.00
O’clock, midday, the screech of brakes
announced that my sister was near arrived .
. . .
The songs of the Mermaid drifted sweet on the air, as she swan in our pond for her "change of scene" visit.
The Goblin and the Gremlin were playing their banjo and
mandolin airs and the birds of Rhiannon
accompanied them.
Ah!
The fields of Elysium . . . . ! Peter & Debbie
19th "A NEW PROJECT!" Coming soon >
Guessed yet ! ? !
Meanwhile,,
out in the magic studio garden . . . .
The Elves had got hold of a roll of bubble pack. They had unrolled it and were stamping excitedly upon it .
. . . Pop!!
The Pixies and the Imps were abroad in the fields, competing as to which of them could balance on cut corn stalks.
The Unicorn was seen to land in
the garden, and their concentration was lost as they raced home to whine, till the Unicorn agreed to
visit to Venus.
The Flower Faeries were sewing "last word" dresses for the their
own coming New Year. Their wardrobes were
expanding in nothing flat, très vite!
The Witch had booked passage on
the Unicorn to, indulge in First Class travel to
Triplanetary, (Edward Elmer "Doc Smith").
They had taken off, pronto, at 2am and would return when they so decided.
The Goblin and the Gremlin were determined to do so in like
manner.
They waited until the Witch had rushed to retrieve her cloak, her broom, a wand and her cat, then leapt upon the Unicorn's back
a volé loin et loin . . . . Peter & Debbie
18th "THE NEW PROJECT!" Coming soon >
Guess!
And so,
out in the magic studio garden . . . .
The moon was encircled by scarce-moving clouds, luminous, mysterious, a vision of never ending myth and legend.
The Glitter bugs twinkled, replacing the stars, and the pond was aglow with light from the house.
The Witch of the night, rarely present in these parts, was visiting her distant cousin, the (nearest) Witch in our wood. They had built a fire of
extravagant size, lit it and invited the night
creatures to keep warm....
From deep in the wood came the sound a chase, and through the trees came an Amarok in pursuit of a slow-moving wild
boar.
The creatures of the wood turned to watch the strangely ancient, almost pantomime scene. The boar skipped beneath a sharp-thorned bush. The Amarok blindly continued his way into the garden.
The Goblin and Gremlin were washing their faces, when, mirrored in the pond water, the figure of ??
They stood up right quick, seized their walking stick
weapons, and hit out at the Amarok with furious contempt.
The Amarok took fright. Wow wee, chickadee.
The garden emptied, the wood emptied and true darkness set in.
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden . . . .
Fizz, fizz, slurp, splutter, the Elves knocked back tumblers of Faerie Land ale and beer. One more pitcher of either and the fire cracker would go Bang!!
The Elves, Imps and Pixies had been testing Christmas
crackers, then taken a detour when the
Wizard arrived, driving a cartload of Real
ales and beers on a wagon drawn by four, immaculate Gypsy horses . . . .
The Flower Faeries had taken their courage in both hands, and, were swimming in the chill waters of the pond in the wood.
The Witch who resided close by, stood waiting to pat them dry and offer them a hot Faerie
chocolate drink - with sprinkles . . . .
The Goblin and the Gremlin were
fencing, the Unicorn prancing and, the Owl
slept . . . . and slept . . . . and slept.
The birds of Rhiannon were
serenading the Ghosts, while the ghostly Werewolves and
Wolverines were silent, merely baring their
teeth and scowling . . . .
In the house, cards hung
dappertutto. The Cook had placed plenty round
the kitchen, scullery, and pantry. My wrists, arms and fingers were
sore after the effort of writing my
own!!
Ah well. T'is one day in the year?! Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden . . . .
The Ghosts and spectres sped across the silent garden, empty now till the night creatures
arrived.
The dark was undiluted by either stars - or moon and the lights of the house were long-since switched off.
The night creatures, arrived, exchanged, not a whisp of sound, no conversation, no repartee, no hello! How di do?
The Owl was elsewhere, as per usual and the Flower Faeries were abed in their underground den. The Witch had requested a night ride of the Unicorn, who obliged by taking her on a voyage of outer space . . . . In the house, the Elves were playing Elfin card
games, with betting included.
I was sleeping like a log, when the bedroom window crashed
open and the Gremlin and Goblin jumped
in . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden . . . .
The Lion, the Witch and her cat and broomstick, were supposedly headed t'wards the Fantasy Land harbour.
A barque awaited them, full crew, (no cat), the sole disaster areas being - the galley and the heads. Malodorous. Noisome . . . . ?!
The Mariners, shopkeepers, Merchant seamen - mate The layabouts, the poor and the children dressed in rags, today were forgetting and, celebrating the safe home-coming of a galleon, feared lost at sea . . . .
The Witch, the cat and the Lion rowed a row boat around the harbour precincts. The waters were disgusting.
The Witch's broomstick began to twitch, her cat to fret and yowl. Homeward time so, disgruntled, unrewarded, the travellers flew garden wards, to their happy home.
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden . . . .
The ghostly Werewolves and Wolverines were doing battle. Fearsome, t'was. Even the Witch could do aught to contain the horde. Peter & Debbie
12th "SOLAR SPECIALS"
Solar Wind volume 2 We should be through with
pre-ordered copies by mid-January. If you haven't contacted us for
your specific numbered
copy you can go HERE to arrange
for it to be shipped before the book is listed for general
sale on the website > http://www.peterandrewjones.net/hello.htm
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden . . . .
The house was deadly quiet. The sound of silence was profound. In the wainscots, skittle skattle,
the mice scuttled round the house
. . . .
The Spider and the Mouse were about on the first floor, engaged in setting schedules and, the Spider's new spun web awaited
it's next, unintended, victim.
In the kitchen, mayhem reined. Pots and pans upon the floor, and an empty fridge/freezer.
The pantry and the scullery were scarcely better off. The cleaning lady this day, would find the cleaning gruelling and would storm and rant all day . . . .
The Elves were building pond mud castles and splashing water at each other. The Ogre stuck his head out . . . . too cold! No visit to the garden. A day spent snug inside.
The Flower Faeries, bright, bewitching,flitter fluttered 'twixt the fruit trees, the bushes and winter flowers.
The Goblin and the Gremlin were on their way to the market
town, where, for the afternoon and
evening they'd be playing the role of
Father Christmas.
The house was quiet, quiet. Then - with a suddenness abrupt, a scream emanated from the
kitchen, followed by slam, bang, crash . .
. . Peter & Debbie
11th "SOLAR
SIGNITURES"
Solar Wind volume 2 Working our way through the
already ordered advance special numbered copies.
If you want a specific numbered
copy contact us soon.
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden . . . .
The spider scuttled from his home,
within the wainscot of an unused
bedroom His legs would take him down the
staircase, to the kitchen in the basement. From thence, he'd stroll about the
pantry, the scullery and wood shed.
The mouse which lived quite close
to him, preferred to keep to the upper
floors. The cats were less inclined to
visit and the moths and insects, flies and beetles had their own specific agendas.
On the "bedroom floor" downstairs,
the Imps and the Elves - the
Pixies, too, were firing peas through their pea
shooters at the corridor walls.
The Cook was snug behind her
kitchen door, and sat sipping her cup of tea
with satisfied contentment.
The postman rang the bell three
times and banged upon the door. T'was merely a signature needed, though one would have thought an alarm was being sounded?!?
Later in the day the Gremlin and
Goblin ensconced themselves comfortably in front of the Library fire. The Elves quickly joined them. Bedlam ensued.
The Witch and the Wizard quaffed a fruited breakfast drink, having stuffed their ears with
cotton wool buds. The Witch stirred a potion to end
all potions. One that contained such
ingredients for spells to stir up this garden Fantasy
land.
The Unicorn disappeared when once he'd been groomed, and the Dragon tramped stormily away to the fields . . . . Peter & Debbie
10th "TUMULTUOUS
TUESDAY" New Limited Edition Print release. The Cool War
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden . . . .
The Flower Faeries were sheltering
in an erstwhile rabbit hole, darning socks, mending tears and sewing "table clothes" and
"napkins." (Faerie table clothes were usually
spread on a ground sheet, the napkins were of gossamer
cotton). The Fresh water Mermaid had, today, wrought miracles out of goose egg
and, assisted by the Witch of the wood, created a "design of the year"
pond home . . . . The Elves were, momentarily, in the Witch of the wood's black
books and, had been warned not to trespass, lest she cast a spell and shown
the exit, do re mi . . . . The Gremlin and Goblin, the Pixies and Imps, carried them news and gossip, and Faerie Land rumours. The Unicorn remained a "world-without-end" visitor. The Dragon invited friends of every, non-violent, Mythical
status or beastie characters from the local Legends of yore. The Wizard arrived by way of an invisible cable car, holding his forgetful friend by the scruff of the neck?! T'was glaringly obvious that, his friend had been getting up to
no good . . . . The Owl was just back from a spree
round the countryside and would,
in time, fall asleep to the euphonious, rhythmical songs of the birds of
Rhiannon . . . . Peter & Debbie
9th "BLUE FRIDAY" New Limited Edition Print release. Under Heaven's Bridge
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden The Turtle had returned to the
garden, another prodigal son come home . .
. .
He had spent a bewilderingly, eye-popping time in the Pacific
Ocean?!
The Tortoise, the Witch, the Water Rat and Wizard, met him in the woods, trundling along the muddy path in a tank upon a cart, drawn by Izzy Bitsy versions of Gog and Magog.
The Elves raced from their hidey
holes to greet him, form an escort and, the Owl whooped, whooped and sailed into the frame as the "leader of the pack."
The procession, reaching its destination, halted and dispersed, leaving the Witch, the Wizard and Flower Faeries to welcome and help him to settle down and acclimatise . .
. .
In the deep of the night, the Unicorn appeared, shining in splendour - a star sign, bejewelled.
He, too, greeted the Tortoise, and, snap, crackle, pop, a flash of lightening, a roll of
thunder.
The downpour was walloping mondo .
. . . Peter & Debbie
8th "THE WHEEL OF
TIME" (The Siren of Tomorrow) Working-up the 70s retro look . . . .
gleaming Rust-free machine Sentient? Humanoid?
We are into the final choices . .
. . . .
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden
others have made choices, it seems . . . .
"Go jump in the lake," sneered Gorgonzola, Spectre. "I've had my swim," returned a bad-tempered Weasel. "I was up before you were . . . . ”
The Witch was in scratchy mood
today, inclined to snap. Thus, those creatures astir, circumnavigated or steered clear of, her outdoor workroom, the chosen space within the
garden, where, in her cauldron, she prepared and mixed her magic potions.
To the Elves, Imps and Pixies, a low-key disagreement was of no concern at all. There passed an hour of nothing doing, no tricks to play or treats to steal.
The hour passed, they confabbed and they plotted. The weasel and the spectre parted,
the other spectres drifted in.
The ghostly Werewolves, Wolverines fought tooth and nail with each other.
When the chimes for midday sounded the Unicorn alighted. Later than expected, he looked ruffled and disheveled. Peter & Debbie
7th BLUES GREY
& BROWNS
The view from the studio this
morning.
Meanwhile,
it's just as chilly
out back in the magic studio garden . . . .
The Mole, his friend, the snail, a caterpillar and worm were wending their weary way to a life beyond the garden.
The Elves were proving much too much to tolerate, much too much to endure . . . . .
The Imps and Pixies, truth to tell, were exasperating, bothersome, but, easier by far to live with.
The Gremlin and the Goblin were not great socialites. They to-ed and fro-ed and wandered from here to there, to out yonder.
Scarce were the conversations that they had with the other garden residents.
The Witch was in her counting
house, oozing satisfaction. This day had been a first, in terms of successful magic
spells and potions?!
The Ogre slept the sleep of the over-rested individual. He snored, gurgled, nostrils
quivered. Occasionally, he bellowed, occasionally he roared.
When the Wizard landed, a wild boar was present. Unfriendly and aggressive, it was rebuked by way of the Unicorn's hooves . . . . Peter & Debbie
6th CRISP SUNLIGHT
The view from the the studio this
morning.
Meanwhile,
it's just as crisp
out back in the magic studio garden . . . .
"Scat," yelled the Cook, "cave canem . . . . , dog about!"
From the far reaches of the
garden, from deep in the wood, came the foot soldiers of Fantasy
Land, the Bayards of mythical fame.
Their numbers filled the garden, their progress shook the earth. The greenhouse disappeared in a shower of glass and flower
pots and the delicate, full-grown plants therein . . . .
The Oak survived, the lawn did not, torn up by the dragging feet of the marching mob.
The Witch, her cat and magic wand vanished in a puff of smoke.
The Flower Faeries danced to safety, and the Elves disappeared snap.
The Dragon, in blue overalls, landed - thwack . . . .
Meanwhile,
back in the magic studio garden . . . .
The Elves had gone to the Witch to
demand that, she conjure a snow storm by
magical spell.
The Gremlin and the Goblin were
not deterred by freezing temperatures. What upset the apple cart was
snow, which would melt?!
The Flower Faeries were panic
stricken at this possibility. They whisked themselves off to
ascertain of the Witch, whether or not she'd agree to it,
in return for a peaceful life . . . .
The Witch dismissed their anxiety
as "over the top," and slopped the
potion in her cauldron thus, extinguishing the fire she had so
lovingly built.
The Elves, the Imps and the
Pixies, unaware of the, almost,
altercation, and the cause, were actually of the same mind as
the Elves and they, too, came to the Witch to ask for snow
. . . . T'was once more the case that the
Unicorn saved the day. He cantered across the sky, turned
on a sixpence and, wove a graceful pattern as he
approached and landed, reared, kicked his
hind legs and, neighed a cheery "Good morning,"
to the somnolent Owl . . . .
Peter & Debbie
4th (inspiration
for) COLOUR CONCEPT
FOR A DRAGON'S SCALES? Warm stone grey topped with fiery
red and yellow!
Could be grey dragon scales with
selected
coloured ones.
LOVE getting palette/painting
inspiration from nature . . . .
Meanwhile,
there are other,
non-creative,
tricks going on . . . .
The clear blue skies and winter sunlight, predisposed the Elves, Pixies and Imps to a day of hoodwink and tricks.
The Dragon was asleep on the grass, out for the count.
The Witch was preparing sumptuous dishes for his breakfast.
The odour of cooking brought the Fantasy critters, post haste, from their lairs and the Flower Faeries conjured presents from out of thin
air. These were for giving during the Fantasy Christmas break.
When the Elves and their kinfolk had eaten their meal, they poured pond water into the ears of the Dragon and dragooned the Unicorn into transporting a group of them to the Land of Erewhon . . . .
Peter & Debbie
3rd (inspiration
for) COLOUR SCHEME
FOR A PAINTING Warm stone grey topped with fiery
red and yellow!
Brilliant (literally) for a colour
theme.
Hand-mixed paints beckon!
Meanwhile,
back in the UK . . . .
Coursing through the icy water of a river running high, the Water Rat, the Toad and Mole steered their canoe with skillful
ease.
Skimming like greased lightening through the swiftly running river,
they hit the rapids, the canoe slipped into rocking
mode, flipped over and that was them thrown into the ice cold depths. T'was just as well they could all
swim?!
The Mole was trying his utmost to keep his head above the water. He soon got into difficulties and was supported by his friends.
Once more on terra ferma, the group crawled shiveringly
home, where the Witch and Flower Faeries
dried them off and heated Faerie-Land mulled wine.
Peter & Debbie
2nd BLAST FROM THE PAST The Wizard of Anharitte (or HEAVY METAL MAGAZINE if you
prefer) So . . . .
for those who keep up with it . . . . . .
The Whippoorwill's call pierced the dark of the morning, setting off a chorus of raucous
crow caws.
The Owl had returned to his home in the Oak, freshened his feathers and settled to sleep.
The unmelodious cacophony shattered the stillness of the lingering night / breaking dawn.
The Owl slipped from his perch to the branch below. The Witch splashed herself with the potion in her huger-than-usual cauldron.
The Elves clapped their hands and stamped their feet, slapped their thighs and then beat a retreat to the woods.
The Pixies and Imps, the Frog and the Toad, the Water Rat, the Gnome and the Goblin and Flower Faeries, woke with a start and tumbled distractedly from their
beds.
The Unicorn took wing and soared up through the pink
clouds. The Wizard cried, "Streuth!" and covered his ears.
When the sound grew too great, the Fantasy creatures, collapsed in a heap, or disappeared with alacrity?!
The Ogre ambled forth, heard the racket and roared.
Silence . . . .
Peter & Debbie
1st TALES FROM THE WOOD The Dragon . . . . is still
evolving . .
. . .
Probably pondering,
just what his role might be
in the magic studio garden,
because as typical,
chaos reigns . . . . . . .
"Do you know the meaning of the word, No?" T'is a negative, therefore, you are forbidden to blow clouds of cheroot smoke around about the garden.
The Elves and Imps, the Pixies too, would scarce apply the rule, so, punishmental ef-fects had mustly
to be had . . . .
The Gardener tossed a wheelbarrow full of smelly fertilizer at them, the Under gardeners sprayed them
liberally with two bottles of herbicide.
The Unicorn and Dragon breathed
fire, the Ogre threw hot water and, the Elves and Imps and Pixies, bedraggled, zigzagged homeward . .
. .
Peter & Debbie
November
30th "THE WHEEL OF
TIME" (The Siren of Tomorrow) Working on final panel of triptych.
Managed to work for awhile,
in relative peace and tranquility
because, out in our magic studio garden . . . .
All of a sudden the temperature
rose and presently the garden was
bereft of confrontational beings. Phew!!
The Ogre was on his groundsheet, drinking Witch-brewed coffee made
of herbs.
The Flower Faeries were grooming
the Unicorn beneath the leafless, naked, Oak
and the Elves, the Imps and Pixies were darting round the house, hurling blandishments at the Cook and Housekeeper and, turning the sitting room upside
down . . . .
Unable to work properly in my
attic office/studio, I took myself downstairs and out
to the garage.
Speeding through the countryside, the winter sun just, gleaming, I felt that touch of freedom which
denotes that, contrary-minded small(ish) folk were nowhere within sight.
A kittihawk flew overhead and, circling to the west, Red kestrel
hovering high, swooped and dived and glided with the wind currents in search of prey.
My sister would, quite shortly, be arriving for "rural" respite. The Gremlin and the Goblin would, without doubt, demand an outing at full speed in her Aston Martin DB 11 . . . .
Ho hum . . . .
Peter & Debbie
29th "A BLAZE OF
LIGHT" The view from the studio this
morning.
Bright morn, warm for the time of
year.
Blue skies.
Unlike yesterday,
Out in our magic studio garden
when there were . . . .
Grey skies and orange, pink and yellow skies. New moon and middling moon and full moon, with his North Star companion.
The birds of Rhiannon sang "Free
Birds" (Lyn The Owl hooted, screeched and flapped his wings, in time with the music - and on the beat?!
A snowman shuffled forth from a deep freezer underground. The Gremlin and Goblin boarded the fantasy bus in pursuance of Christmas gifts and festive decorations.
The Elves were walking along the
footpath, country road and over puddles, through an erstwhile forest/wood to the market town beyond.
They, too, wanted gifts, and, this and this and that. Free and without tax . . . . They had a plan and had the means to rip off the merchant stall
holders. "No problema, monsieur. These items are your's to stock and ours to filch."
They did so.... They were done so - by the Shades.
Peter & Debbie
28th "RED MONDAY" New Limited Edition Print release.
. . . . . or Last Duel: Inter
Planet War 2012 was an arcade game like "navinha" (from the English
"shooter" / "Shooter' Em Up") 2D, 1988, released by Capcom (USA) and
USGold (rest of the world). Later, it became available in PC format and
was part of Capcom Classics Collection - Volume 2, an arcade games
compilation for the PlayStation 2, Xbox and PlayStation Portable. Its story happens in the year 2012
in an alternate galaxy. Two planets - Mu and Bacula - are fighting a
war. On planet Bacula, Galden - a strong warrior tribe - has a dreadful
military power and conquered every city on its planet. With a higher
ambition of "one only planet", the Galden decide to conquer a
neighboring planet: Mu. Using advanced bioships, fighters and motor
vehicles, Galden Mu is invaded, destroying many of its cities and
kidnapping the beautiful queen Sheeta. The remaining royal guards of Mu
are great space fighters that can transform themselves into cars to
rescue the queen and end the domination of Galden. The game alternates between the
use of cars and spaceships. The vehicle has two major attacks,
depending on which vehicle the player uses. When using the car, the
vehicle can jump holes and enemies. When you choose the starship, you
can skid to become temporarily invincible and fatal. The player can select Power-Ups
that include a large, but slow laser, a double shot, a great shot and
options that provide wing attacks; Speed-ups can only be used in ship
mode.
Each game level is timed, and if the player can not reach the "boss" in
time, he fails in his mission. But when the boss is found, time freezes
and, with the duel, we will know if there will be failure or triumph. The graphics (for the time) are
good - though a little dark at times - and the tracklist, great. Fans prefer usually the Arcade
version, but the version for other consoles also are not bad. The cover art by Peter Andrew
Jones perceives confrontation in a science fiction visualisation,
combining robotic monsters in Interstellar duels. Another good
combination, between the bright blue, red and yellow, with explosions,
screams, lasers and adventure. How not to love?
Pedro Panhoca (Brazil representative)
Perhaps . . .
. . this skill of visualising such
games enables the Artist to see actual
real Faeries?
And . . . . . as a result . . . .
An Aigamuxa in the garden? Yes, alas, allack....
The fearsome creature skulked and
slunk, while the Witch lay low and the garden creatures stayed away.
The garden was still empty when the Wizard stepped off his
magic blanket. He spent some time reconnoitering her usual haunts, without success.
Entering the wood, he perceived a frightening being: a mythical beast of ugly mien. Eyes on its feet, man eater, mean. You can outwit him, as firstly he
must lie on his back and lift both feet
in the air, in order that he could see
anything?!
Peter & Debbie
26th THE WHEEL OF TIME Private commission.
Underway still.
More soon . . . . . . .
And . . . .
for those who keep up with it . . . . . .
Wizzie Wazie Wombat arrived by
magic carpet, donated by the Wizard's friend, who'd left it the wood shed.
The garden was alive with Elves, their next of kin and cousins. The Imps, the Pixie, Goblin, Gnome and Weasel were perched, half way up the Oak.
The never-resting Flower Faeries, their by the Unicorn done, were at the proverbial "loose end"
whilst the snoozy snoozebox day
progressed.
Wmomph, thud, footsteps approached, those of the Ogre, fancifully
dressed in men's Derby Tweed breeches Plus
Fours and co-respondent black and white
shoes . . . .
The Witch's eyes grew wide, her eyebrows lifted and, she sneezed, sniffed, and dropped her gaze to the
cauldron.
The Unicorn snorted, chuckled horse-fashion, and the Wizard guffawed so loudly that his hat fell off his head?!
The Ogre was completely and
totally wrapped up in his world that, nothing whatever would have
impinged upon his consciousness . . . . .
Peter & Debbie
24th YET ANOTHER
WINTER
PALETTE Golden yellows and browns..
Garnering more natural materials
for a "winter palette".
Hand-mixed
tubed paints beckon!
Meanwhile,
Out in our magic studio garden . . . .
The Caladrius, mythical snow white bird, had materialised from the depths of . . . . who knows where?
Straightaway, the Owl disappeared into "his" hole in the Oak. The Flower Faeries flew far
afield, out of possible harm's way.
The Witch and the Wizard were confabbing close to her steaming cauldron from which floated the daily
spells.
The Gremlin and Goblin were inside the house, together with the Elves, Imps and Pixies, the cats and dogs.
The Elves had already ruffled the Ogre, and were now intent upon upsetting the Cook.
The kitchen was topsy turvy, the dining room knocked about. The Cook would hit the ceiling the minute she entered either scullery or pantry.
Gee!!
Peter & Debbie
23rd TALES FROM THE WOOD The Dragon . . . . is evolving . .
. . .
Meanwhile,
he remains absent
from the garden, because . . . . . . .
The drizzling rain, grey skies and wind, which yesterday had postponed the arrival on the lawn of our Fantasy creatures though it had abated somewhat, still left th Dragon wary of
appearing. The birds of Rhiannon arranged themselves artfully, balancing comfortably high up on a branch of the Oak tree.
The rain clouds seemed to hang low in the sky, and the drizzle permeated through the clothes of anyone out of doors . . . .
The Goblin and the Gremlin stomped around and about, then, disappeared hastily into the wood.
Peter & Debbie
22nd TALES FROM THE WOOD A Dragon . . . . may emerge,
shortly . . . . .
Meanwhile,
he is invisible, because . . . . . . .
The drizzling rain, grey skies and
wind, postponed the arrival of the
Fantasy creatures.
Peter & Debbie
21st MORNING MOTIVATION The view from the studio.
Morning light.
Cold snap, but bright!
A bright start to the day's
drawing session !
Meanwhile,
Outside the studio . . . . . . .
A retinue of Faeries, fire flies and dancing beans, tripped its way through wood and garden, fields of crops, fallow fields.
The Witch - reconnaissance - on her broom, took the lead. The Wizard sailed forward on a magic carpet. The Ogre flapped his arms, endeavouring to fly.
The Elves were parachuting from the roof of the house. A regular occurence when the spirit took them.
The Flower Faeries were ready to sleep the day away, having spent the night at the Faerie theatre watching a Punch and Judy pantomime.
The Unicorn was lively, champing a virtual bit. His was a desire for a long haul flight round the globe.
The final outcome? The Unicorn sped, with infinite panache, round the globe . . . . twice?!
The Witch and her cat returned to Earth, changed her cloak for a warmer one and lit an enormous fire.
She transmitted a telepathic message to her friend, the Wizard, and together they sipped Faerie-made wine and cast spells of the night.
When night fell, the beat of Dragon wings could be heard in the distance, and Lo and behold, a crimson dragon landed!
Peter & Debbie
20th ANOTHER WINTER
PALETTE And . . . . another shot from the
garden.
Natural materials suggesting
colours for a "winter palette".
I'll make a range of hand-mixed
tubed paint sbased on this.
Meanwhile,
Outside, in the magic studio garden . . . .
The clouds sprang a leak and the rain belted down, then hail and shards of ice, seemingly, snow as the dessert.
The Witch pitched a magical tent and the Elves scuttled in, followed by the Goblin, the Gremlin, the Weasel, the Stoat and the Water Rat.
The Flower Faeries were allocated a Royal coach, drawn by six
miniature horses and a Mokele mbembe, the Queen of the Faeries being generous and not having to
pay a State Visit . . . .
In the attic the Mouse, the cat
and the spider were scraping the boards to clean
enough space, so as they could compete to see
which would win the mostest of twelve Poker games.
Tea time arrived, every last one was to be found in the sitting
room, waited upon by the Cook, house maid and House keeper, who offered edible delicacies, tea, coffee, fresh fruit juices or
water.
The ambience was cordial, restful
and stormless . . . .
Peter & Debbie
19th THE WINTER
PALETTE Another shot from the garden.
Collected natural materials
suggesting colour for a "winter palette".
Natural.
Meanwhile, A dear friend and collector of Fantasy artworks had, (jealousy, jealousy), returned from a short, but uplifting, visit to Rome.
I'm preparing a papyrus scroll and a quill pen and ink to, write reams of logical reasons why, next time, we go together . . . .
Signed, sealed, complete, the garden Dragon was summoned to take the parchment letter to
Rome.
The Witch, "hearing voices," approached so as to proffer her
services, and those of the Unicorn.
Wrong time of year to sail over Rome on a broom - not yet Befana?!)
The Elves, Imps and Pixies, the Goblin and the Gnome proffered a carrier pigeon. Much too small-beaked for the task.
The Wizard, a voice ignored, threw a strop and, spitefully,
Magicked the scroll to the Queen
of the wood?!
Peter & Debbie
18th SOLAR WIND http://www.peterandrewjones.net/books/book_solarwind.htm
Edition ready to be dedicated and
shipped.
Always a real pleasure, dedicating
a book for collector.
Meanwhile,
Outside the book binding room . . . . . . .
The wind cried Mary, the trees creaked and moaned. Low clouds sank lower. The moisture-laden skies, threatened to implode . . . .
The house shook, the windows
rattled, the front door jiggered on its
hinges.
The Dragon lay doggo on the lawn. The Witch hid out in her
underground den. The Elves, the Imps and the Pixie
Folk rehearsed, with microphone, their end of year rock/pop
concerto.
The Wizard, and forgetful friend, made hay while the rain swept
through, sailing the nearby river in a
canoe - for a hoot - indubitable
vaudeville?!
The gusts became tornados, the garden creatures battened down. In the house, the creepy crawlies scurried rapidly into their
temporary homes . . . .
Peter & Debbie
17th THE WHEEL OF TIME Private commission.
Underway.
More soon . . . . . . .
Meanwhile,
others have work to do also . . . . . . .
The Candle Stick Maker, the
Farrier, and the Sharpener of Cutlery, were due to visit today.
The Cook was displeased, her schedule in shreds. The dogs bit the Postman, so . . .
.
Chi sa cosa faranno?
The Elves, Imps and Pixies would stand and stare, comment and point AT every move the "experts" made, moving positions from one to the
next . . . .
The Unicorn, brushed and groomed to a soft, platinum sheen, mane and tail washed, combed and dyed Sapphire blue, quenched his thirst and swallowed,
a Witch Chef's masterpiece, a magical breakfast.
The Flower Faeries washed their
hair, cleansed their faces, after which they lit Faerie heaters, gathered together the manicure set
and, perched lightly upon the tubbed
Poinsettia, titivated their minute finger
nails.
The Ogre, dental appointment
booked, needs must sleep, and the Witch had magicked a cosy bedroom, hidden from the view of "ordinary"
folk by Witchcraft and the Witch's
guile?!
When the ghostly Wolves and
Wolverines uncorked their voices, their howls awoke the morn and, every man, bird and living
creature for mile upon mile around . . . .
Peter & Debbie
16th THE GODDESS OF
CREATION
Progress.
Almost done.
Probably because there's actually
peace in the garden for a change . . . . . . .
For the first time for days the Elves were abroad, roaming the countryside, frightening the cows. The sheep had only disdain and disinterest written into their faces.
There had been a parting of ways 'twixt the Elves, Imps and Pixies. A full scale argument had caused
this split. Who started it was anyone's guess,
and, who would patch up the tear was a conundrum, as well . . . .
The Cook was relieved, the Housekeeper breathed deep, the Gardener and his under
gardeners, sped through their tasks.
The Witch, the Wizard, the Goblin and Gremlin, had ridden to market on a wooden cart drawn by a heavy horse. More astonishingly, the ghosts had come along, too?!
The Owl slept serene, the rain
held off. Grey clouds there were -
nevertheless, a mellow warmth pervaded the overcasting gloom.
The Faeries of the wood played peek a boo, hide and seek, whilst the Witch of the acreage The Mole and the Toad and the Water Rat Trio were in the field out yonder, watching ants build an anthill by the light of day 2's receding
super moon . . . .
Peter & Debbie
15th THE WINTER PALETTE Time to construct a winter palette.
Collected natural materials to
invoke a "palette surprise".
A great way to construct an
un-planned palette range to use.
Natural.
"All change, all change!" a voice
instructed, as the virtual train drew into our, usually transparent garden station.
The Flower Faeries fluttered through the open windows, and their fellow garden residents
jumped, crawled or slithered aboard. They were on their way to "oh, the places we shall go," in celebration of the rare event of the supercalifragilistic
magical moon . . . .
The Witch had been invited to
attend a Witch's carnival of light. The Wizard, too, would go along, taking with him his forgetful
friend.
The Elves, the Pixies, Imps and
Goblin would join their "tribe" across
the hills and, the Gremlin would be left to
celebrate with the ghosts and ghostly
Wolverines?!
The ghostly Werewolves were far
away, howling balefully in the
incandescent moonlight. The only character to miss the
sight was the ever-tired Ogre?!
Photographs spewed one by one, from the camera that I'd borrowed. These, and the article I was to
write would, as soon as asap, land upon my
publisher's desk . . . .
Peter & Debbie
14th SUPER MOON The view from the studio.
Closest to the Earth for 48 years.
Beckoning-in, cold snap.
Severe weather warnings.
Strong winds ahead.
Time to stoke the studio heaters .
. . . .
The Flower Faeries were beginning to feel the cold and, got together
to discuss where inside they'd be
warm, and hidden, so that they could
laugh and dance the horn pipe without being found out.
The Unicorn would join them, they
knew, and the Witch often spent time in
the kitchen.
The Elves, Imps and Pixies could be locked in the green house, with the Ogre acting the role of
prison guard . . . .
The Moon was full, clouds told of further rain, and, the Gremlin, Goblin and Dragon? They would blunder about in the Moon light . . . .
Peter & Debbie
13th OUR DAY OFF A day off, from studio activity.
Well, our activity at
least.
Seems others may already have
beaten us to it . . . . . .
But at least today,
there may be calm in the garden,
maybe . . . . .
One morning, eons ago, a Phoenix triumphant came this way. A tempest had driven it, disempowered, to this place.
The Owl was hunting for supper and dinner and breakfast prey. Perhaps an hors d'oeuvre, or a snack - two? - thrown in for good measure.
The Goblin and the Gremlin were sitting on a ground sheet laid on the grass, on loan to the Ogre from the Witch
and left behind by him :(
Each was concentrated upon constructing a hat. Rather wear put together head gear
than suffer frozen ears?!
The Phoenix and the Unicorn - (arrived at dawn) - were sidestepping each other, both envious of the other . . . .
With a whoop and a hoot, the Owl flew overhead, followed by the birds of Rhiannon,
the Wizard and forgetful friend.
Behind the walls of the kitchen
garden, the Witch wrinkled her nose. The perfume cascading from the
cauldron resembled a mini-waterfall. (Other than the wiffyness of the potion, itself....)
The Ogre had made up a bed in the
wood, choosing an halcyon glade
wherefrom he bestirred himself not at all.
The Elves, Imps and Pixies were parachuting from the roof of
the house or paragliding inexpertly, klutzy from the window sills . . .
. Accidents happen?
Wild cats,
High priestesses,
ritual sacrifice,
the stuff of Simulacra,
but then again,
there's "Tales from the the Wood. . . . . . ."
The Ogre came forth from the wood
with a jerk, dragging something(?) what was it . . . . a cockatrice.
A mythical beast of murderous mien
. . . . that he had unearthed from fields
under the hills.
The Flower Faeries' eyes opened
wide with awe. The Witch took him aside and beseeched of him - "Take it otherwhere! T'is too ghoulish for we residents
of this Fantasy garden."
The Ogre looked taken off balance. He scratched his head, rubbed his bestubbled cheeks and
chin. Sweeping the cockatrice to face
the wood, he thundered 'cross the lawn
and, crashed through the wood . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
back at the studio,
out in the wood
at the back of the studio . . . . .
The fresh water Mermaid had returned to the wood. This misty, moisty morning she was singing to, the creatures of the wood.
The Queen of the Wood and the Queen of Faerie Land were seated upon cushions placed atop a fallen tree branch.
I was walking in the wood, a first for many months and, hid behind a chestnut tree could eavesdrop with impunity.
They talked of castle matters, of policies and politics. And wait . . . . The arrival of two Tiddy mun to "tidy up" their populations.
Returning to the garden, I found the Witch behind the
greenhouse. I reported what I'd overheard and asked whether there was anything we could do.
The Witch scratched her head and thought awhile. "Leave it be with me," she said. "I'll tell the Wizard, who will know what canst be done and how . . . .
"Just arrived and just read. It's a fantastic view in Peter's
work. Filled of his incredible images."
Thank you Dario.
Meanwhile,
out in our magic studio garden . . . . .
"Eight x eight equals sixty-four, and global warming equals cold, wet springs and summers, autumnal flower confusion and a frigid winter."
Thus spake the Weasel, the Toad
and the Water Rat.
The Orc was blessed with plenty of
ballast.
The Ogre was spoiled by a
sympathetic Witch and the soft-hearted Flower
Faeries.
Given warm clothes, hot drinks and munchable, sumptuous piping hot meals.
The Weasel, the Toad and the Water
Rat, were next on the list of Fantasy garden creatures to
meet. They were very courteous, polite and down-beat. Talked of the ways of the world, of magic and Fantasy Land.
"We know that 'tis right to be
friendly with one and all. However, how can one get along with most
anyone, most especially one's fellow
garden residents?"
I listened carefully, mulled upon that which I'd heard and decided to wait to converse
until the Unicorn joined us, the Owl and the birds
of Rhiannon, too . . . . Peter & Debbie
Hand crafted, limited edition. Getting ready to ship to a
collector today.
Once packed,
we can go for a stroll,
joining others
in our magic studio garden . . . . .
A Pied Piper-character strolled
through the garden, playing "Pennies from Heaven" and songs from the musical,
"Carousel."
Reveille!
The Fantasy garden creatures
opened their eyes, extracted their ear-plugs and
roused themselves, preparing for the day.
The Orc had, during the night, met a Bavarian Wolpertinger, struggling to complete his chosen
goal, a "Grand Tour of Europe."
They walked some way together, the Orc talking non-stop. "Good morrow," he repeated, "How are ye, how are ye?"
The Bavarian Wolpertinger caved in
and shut up . . . . A fair distance later the Orc
declared that he must, find a ditch to lie down in and
catch forty winks.
This project proved easy and a brief acquaintanceship
expired. The Wolpertinger slithered
onwards, upwards and down, the Orc trundled homewards, ever bent upon repeating, "Some form of transport will pass,
sine qua non. Peter & Debbie
Need to keep focussed to pack
& ship
and ignore the usual chaos
outside, in the magic studio garden . . . .
Yahoo! shouted the Wart Hog, waving a white handkerchief of
surrender?! The Toad and the Frog beat their
drums and retreated post haste.
Kerplunk, went the heart of the
Ogre and, "Wretch!" cackled the Witch for, into the Fantasy garden had
dropped a wicked Warlock, cudgel in his belt, hands tightly
fisted.
He strode t'ward the Elves, hurling jeers and insults at them. To the Imps he muttered threats and the Pixies he derided, mocking all and mocking sundry, his language grinding to the soul.
The population in toto ground
their teeth and "bared" their fangs. Moving to the rhythm of his voice,
the Unicorn's sharp teeth and
polished hooves came the rescue and, striking out,
(or biting sharp), saved the day and got rid of, a veritable pain . . . . Peter & Debbie
7th THE UNKNOWN INHABITANT
I'm not clear, yet, who she is . .
. . .
I only got a brief glimpse.
Just as the sun broke through the
trees.
But, as ever,
the strange goings-on in the garden
always make it difficult
to know exactly what's happening
until it burst upon us in broad daylight . . . . .
The Elf Owl had lost its way one
dark, stormy night and found itself
blown from its natural habitat across
seas and oceans.
It's journey ended here, in this
magical garden.
The garden Fantasy creatures were
stunned. Even the Elves were rendered
silent. Never in their lives had they met
such a bird.
The Elf Owl settled, bone weary,
on the lawn, scarcely able to shake out his
salt-watered feathers. The Witch saw him sitting there
and approached with caution.
The cauldron frothed and bubbled. Spells whisked upon their way. In the Oak the Owl was resting, clutching still his night's
"goodies."
A signal from the Witch and the
Owl responded, dropping bits and pieces of his
breakfast to the ground.
The Elf Owl snacked until replete,
then, his feathers shaken, refreshed, he slept on a branch of the Oak, brushed by falling leaves and lulled by the cool Autumnal
breeze . . . . Peter & Debbie
6th TIME TRAVEL
Companions?
Friends maybe?
Maybe I should put a dragon in
this new picture?
Or . . . . maybe I should continue
to just let it find its own destiny . . . . .
That approach is new for me,
probably influenced by
the general spontaneity
of our magic garden inhabitants
and, as ever, the unfolding garden day
is a unpredictable as ever . . . . . !
A Pied Piper-character strolled
through the garden, playing "Pennies from Heaven" and songs from the musical,
"Carousel."
Reveille!
The Fantasy garden creatures
opened their eyes, extracted their ear-plugs and
roused themselves, preparing for the day.
The Orc had, during the night, met a Bavarian Wolpertinger, struggling to complete his chosen
goal, a "Grand Tour of Europe."
They walked some way together, the Orc talking non-stop. "Good morrow," he repeated, "How are ye, how are ye?"
The Bavarian Wolpertinger caved in
and shut up . . . . A fair distance later the Orc
declared that he must, find a ditch to lie down in and
catch forty winks.
This project proved easy and a brief acquaintanceship
expired. The Wolpertinger slithered
onwards, upwards and down, the Orc trundled homewards, ever bent upon repeating, "Some form of transport will pass,
sine qua non. Peter & Debbie
Elves, Pixies and Imps
needed a break
from printing calendars,
and, we need to check the fantasy factory
to ensure due diligence,
because . . . . .
Snotlings, Orcs and Gremlins. What have they in common? Response?
Snotlings are known as the
preferred slaves of both Orcs and Gremlins.
Singly submissive. In groups? Otherwise!
Our resident Gremlin and the newcomer, Orc, had lately acquired two. One for each. None for the Goblin . . . .
The Elves, Pixies and Imps made a
stink, the Flower Faeries reproached them. The Witch bit her lip and slammed her cauldron
maleficently.
T'was mild for this time of year and the fresh water Mermaid had transferred to the
garden pond. She sang, Siren-like, from the rock in the pond, enticing those who approached to immerse themselves in cold water. Shiver, quiver, shudder, ugh!!
Peter & Debbie
4th CALENDAR TIME 2017 Calendar now in production.
Elves and Goblins working hard on
it in the print room now. Ships in time for New Year.
Purchase link available shorty. Contact us by e-mail to discuss
before ordering.
Elves, Pixies and Imps
needed a break
from printing calendars,
so . . . . .
Elves, Pixies and Imps were off to
the races, aboard the special bus that
appeared in the garden by magic when required . . . .
They each carried ruck sacks
filled with Faerie-cooked food, binoculars, extra clothing, their
heads posolutely crammed with hoodwinks and tricks.
The Flower Faeries, clothed in
layer upon stylish layer, chitter chattered, giggled and,
having groomed the Unicorn, let their hair down . . . . The Witch, the Ogre, Elf Owl upon
his shoulder, built a fire, filled the cauldron
and, made tick for a bracing
early-morning walk . . . . Peter & Debbie
3rd VISUAL TATTERDEMALION
(continues) http://www.peterandrewjones.net/blog.htm I've still no idea (yet) what will
it be when
complete.
Could be, that annoying Witch in
the garden, may be the subject. Maybe, if I offer to paint
her portrait, she might calm down?
No, you're right, probably
not!
I did try to engage with
her, but . . . . . She seemed more interested
in what others were doing.
So, I gave up, at lest until
tomorrow, when I might try again.
From thence we proceeded t'ward
the pond, where, the Elves, Imps and Pixies had
forgathered to dilly dally and about. I was introduced, (sort of), to
each Elf, Imp and Pixie, who paid scant attention and got
on with having fun?!
Peter & Debbie
2nd VISUAL TATTERDEMALION http://www.peterandrewjones.net/blog.htm A new "what will it be when
complete"?
I've no idea (but then that's the
whole idea, of course!)
It is, if course, influenced
(visually recored) by what I've observed - the usual chaos and wild events
out in the studio garden.
The Flower Faeries had flown from
the garden to the village, entertained the children and flown
back to the fold.
The Witch was supposed to
demonstrate her magical skills, as the evening drew the curtains
upon the late Autumnal day.
The sky was a pure azure blue,
criss-crossed by Nimbus clouds, alight with the gold of the end of
day timbre.
The Owl would, in the pitch black, a' hunting go.
The Elves would be translating
tricks in theory to tricks in action. The Ghosts took the road to
"Blowing hot, blowing cold."
The Wizard arrived like a bull in
a china shop and the Unicorn, provoked, trod upon his cloak, turned his
back and kicked his legs from under him . . . .
His dignity was tatterdemalion . .
. .
Peter & Debbie
1st THE GODDESS OF
CREATION
Working title (kind of).
We might need to have a walk
'round the magic garden. Just to get the creative juices
flowing. See how we can develop the concept.
So, off we went . . . . .
Walking slowly, ceremoniously down
pathways, crisscrossing the lawn, we arrived
at a wooden shed that I had no notion existed . . .
. A new-build evidently, from the appearance of the
structure.
My companion knocked on the door using a Fantasy morse code, a chain was withdrawn and the door creaked open.
Framed against the light streaming in from the windows, stood an ancient Sage, clothed in sack cloth robe and an intricately embroidered
cloak . . . .
We were denied the offer of
an invitation to enter, instead the Sage came out to be
introduced, then turned about, giving the
order to "Follow the pathway to Shangri la
. . . ."
Peter & Debbie
October 2016
Blog
31st THE VIEW FROM THE STUDIO
Sunlight!
Michaelmas pastures.
Sheep (just discernible in the
centre of the view).
And, of course, Faeries from over the hills
. . . .
The Flower Faeries
were practicing
the Passé Double. Their partners were the male
Faeries
from over the hills.
The Elves, Imps and Pixies were fighting over Halloween
costumes, who would wear what and would the
evening begin in dispute and end in
fisticuffs?
The Witch was sewing a "The Lady
is a Tramp" dress, having magicked a wig and a pair
of stiletto heeled shoes.
What the result would be, was
anybody's guess . . . .
The Ghosts, the ghostly Werewolves
and the Wolverines were wholly intent upon scaring
the living day-lights out of every other garden Fantasy
creature.
The garden quietened, the night
creatures crept out. The stars were well hidden, the
moon scarcely visible.
The Unicorn had visited, was now somewhere traveling
through space.
I smoked a cigar, went inside to
the Library, chose a book and climbed the
stairs to my attic room office/studio . .
. .
Peter & Debbie
30th MEMORY LANE 2 years back on Facebook
"A World Out of Time"
(Larry Niven novel)
I've always enjoyed
characteristation.
I also enjoy the "FLOW"of
evolving an idea from past to present.
Once upon a time, it was
an Alien in a space environment.
Now, maybe, it will be a
"Queen of the Wood".
It helps, to have models
to work from, close at hand . . . . .
Stringently black hair, cloth of gold gown, the Queen of the Wood was astride
an azure, violet and white Pinto, "Light of
the Forest."
Fleet of foot and poised, to the tips of its hooves, its tail and mane folded, unfolded like blue polka dot flags.
"Light of the Forest" galloped
through the wood, the extraterrestrial exhilaration
demonstrably visible.
The Queen of the Wood guided him
out of the wood, 'cross pasture and field till near
at hand, the Queen espied a herd of Fantasy
equines chewing peppermint grass and sweet
virtual apples beside a crystalline stream upon
their left hand.
Here they rested for a wee while
to restore their stamina, before cantering on to the Land of
Smiles . . . .
Peter & Debbie
29th THE VIEW FROM THE STUDIO Mist, in the Stretton gap.
Chilly, but beautiful.
And the cobbles
at the from of the studio Glistened with dew, and
indeed . . .
The crookedy Wizard
was walking on cobbles. Tip toeing from one cobble to
another,
to another, to another.
His cloak kissed the surface of
the unyielding pathway, His nose pointed downwards, his
eyes squinted painfully.
Hurrying here, hurrying there, he met obstacles with aplomb, triumphant, but bruised . . . .
Discerning the green house, he wrenched open the door, to find the Elves, the Pixies, the
Imps and the Witch, roasting chestnuts and cooking
apples in the antiquarian wood stove.
The Wizard jumped right out of his
skin, and the Elves, Pixies, Imps and the
Witch, lobbed chestnuts at him, then invited him in?!
Peter & Debbie
28th MEMORY LANE The vault of retro sci-fi 2.0. Facebook - October 19, 2014. The Quest Of The DNA Cowboys.
From
spaceships to dragons, a galaxy-wide fantastical journey.
But journeys,
simple strolls, even a garden walk . . . . can induce fantastical ideas, if only because they are close at
hand!
The Dragon had landed with a clout
and a judder, beside the Witch's near boiling
cauldron.
The Witch shook her fists and
sprung to one side. The Wizard, who was with her,
swore under his breath. The ghosts and ghostly Werewolves
growled and snapped viciously.
The Dragon blew smoke and, with
his claw-like talons, scratched long furrows in the
grass, all the while hissing bad
temperedly.
The Unicorn landed not long
afterward, folding his wings and shaking
himself thoroughly.
The Elves shot out from their
hidden hidey holes 'twixt Oak tree and wood. They crossed the lawn and pushed
open the door to the kitchen.
Once inside, they rummaged around,
opening tins of biscuits, the
fridge, cupboards, drawers. Having scavenged what there was
for the taking, they went through the scullery,
the pantry, the dining room and back to the
kitchen . . . .
The Cook, when she discovered the
mayhem left behind, prepared breakfast and then, stormed home in high dudgeon ? ?
Peter & Debbie
27th THE GLORY OF AUTUMN The view outside the studio today.
Beautiful contrast,
blue-greens
against hot(ish) yellows.
And "spread of leaves"
Magic.
Which is why . . . .
we really appreciate,
our magic studio garden.
And, of course, the antics of the inhabitants!
The Ogre stepped from behind the
Oak. He looked guilty as sin and the residue of pumpkin was smeared around his mouth.
"You like the taste of pumpkin?"
said I. "Food is my medicine." "Without gargantuan meals six
times a day, I dwindle to a stick shape and
resemble a scarecrow?!
"Do you keep awake whilst you
sleep so to speak?" I asked.
"I walk, talk and eat whilst I
sleep. And I dream dreams of orchards, bread ovens and roasted chestnuts with spam . . . . . ”
"Glory be and golly gumdrops," I
replied, perplexed and woozled.
Peter & Debbie
26th TALES FROM THE WOOD Project development advances . . .
. . . .
Recounting, thinking, recording.
Because . . . . .
Breakfasting early one morning, I
now recall, I was drawn to the window, attracted by the sounds of wind in
the trees, and the heavy-footed shuffle of walking through fallen leaves .
. . .
Coffee finished, I rose and went
outside to find out what exactly was abroad .
. . .
Opening the garden door, I stretched and breathed deep, filling my lungs with the fresh, chill countryside air.
The lawn was covered in a white
frostiness and "take a care" slipperiness. The chill went straight through
you. Your feet took exception.
Behind the Oak tree, reading, was
a Troll, an unknown quantity.
I adopted a casual attitude, walking purposefully to his side, extended a hand to shake his and was rewarded with a grunt and a sniff . . . . !
Peter & Debbie
25th MORNING LIGHT The view this morning.
The gap between Caer Caradoc &
Hazler Hill.
Sometimes, words are unnecessary.
Peter & Debbie
24th THE
EVER-SURPRISING OCCURRENCES OF EN PLEIN AIR . . . . I think. it deserves, a photo of
its own. It'd make a decent bit of
reference for an Alien picture maybe?
It was a spiky Tuesday!
Now, it's a troubled Wednesday
in the magic studio garden . . . . .
This Wednesday morning, I met the
Ogre, who trumpeted an Hello! and sat down expectantly . . . .
My heart told me, "Shoot!" and my head told me, "Wait!"
I, too, sat on the grass, hugging
my knees.
"Tell me what's bothering you?" (My opening gambit). "I'm listening."
I be sick to my stomach to hear
what the Elves say 'bout me. So bad do I feel that, I want to
biff them - biff 'em all over and throw them
to the Werewolves . . . . "
I sympathized with him, had
experienced the same urge. How to advise him to circumvent
such a decision? Who is to know? Who is to say?
The silence continued, then the two of us bellowed, "The game's afoot. Cry God for Harry, England and St
George!" Charging forward, we corralled the
Elves, drove them into the tennis courts,
barred the gates - and blew a kiss . . . . Peter & Debbie
23rd THE
EVER-SURPRISING OCCURRENCES OF EN PLEIN AIR . . . . Landed on my miniature oil
painting today! Almost conquered by a Conker!
Who knows . . . . what may
happen next!
Peter & Debbie
22nd THE CHILL WIND
BLOWS The view this morning.
View of the Gaer Stone, across the Stretton Gap, at Hope
Bowdler, listed since the Roman invasion of
Britain in 43AD.
Nearby, the summit of Caer Caradoc
where Caractacus made his last
stand against the mighty Legions of Rome
Further on in time, the Saxon Edric Silvaticus (Wild
‘Edric) fought the Normans in the area.
The Domesday book of 1086 also
mentions Hope Bowdler.
It's a Land of Myth & Legend .
. . . .
Even thinking
about the span of history
is tiring,
so I needed a rest.
I'd slung a hammock in the garden.
Cold though t'was, I fancied doing it?! Stretched comfortably beneath a blanket I read a page, snoozed, woke and read a second page and so forth . . . .
Immersed in thinking and in
reading, I failed to observe a figure at my
side. A topsy turvy, untidy person. Not a Gnome, not a Gremlin . . . . A Troll?!
Tatters and rags, he wore, and his nose was triangular. A wide squash of the Troll organ of hyper-sensitivity.
He had shuffled towards me, and sniffed, cleared his throat and commenced to chat. We conversed at length, choosing this subject and that, along a winding road till we arrived back at the
beginning.
Similar "this is my life” semi
monologues were to eventuate each day for one "human" week . . . .
Peter & Debbie
21st WYSINQWYR ! What you see, is not quite, what you remember.
Which was the
actual point of the project.
A bit like visiting the Zoo,
where the animals want to break out of captivity.
So these drawings escaped,
and broke out of creativity.
Which is quite possibly influenced
by the goings on in our magic garden . . .
The Unicorn and a Dromedary were
out on a slow walk. The Dromedary had broken out of
his cage at the zoo, run roughshod through the locked
gates with the aid of an elephant . . . .
The elephant detested being
imprisoned therein. Howbeit, he was attached to his
keeper, who fed him bananas?!
The garden Elves were fans of
excursions to the zoo, and, opened the door to his commodious
quarters last evening.
They lassoed him and dragged him
to "freedom”, prodding him with Elfin forks to
forestall resistance(?) . . . .
They lent a ladder against him and
two by two they scaled his protuberant frame, sat in a line, face to back, and, urged him to trot.
In the distance he perceived an
hillock of bananas, rising oh-so temptingly on the
tarmac car park. Resistance was unconscionable . .
. .
The elephant and the Dromedary
took the highway to erewhon, hence new arrivals expected by
return, in the garden . . . .
Peter & Debbie
20th ARACHNAMAZIA! Worthy of incorporation -
into a painting,
somewhere, somehow.
Subtle browns, and even subtler
greens.
I tried to rescue
it, as it has become trapped in compost.
As I gently
dislodged it, eased it from it's compost quagmire, it scuttled . . . . away - very slowly.
A damaged front
leg was, I'm afraid, going to make for a tough day ahead . . . . .
It needed,
ideally, to hide,
somewhere.
In a hidden corner . . . .
The Gardener had created a hidden
garden, walled like the kitchen garden,
with immaculate lawn, saplings and razzle dazzle flowers.
The entrance to this secret garden
was through a wooden door, for which a key was required.
The atmosphere of hush and the luxurious quiet was music to the soul and all over
serenity.
Walking around the pebbled paths
this morning, I chanced upon Faeries, unknown to
me, fantastical insects, a multi-lingual dragonfly and butterflies of colours only seen in Fantasy Land . . . .
Standing still, motionless, scarce
breathing, I, drank in the scene and then set about
"exploring." Peter & Debbie
19th ESCAPE TO THE
SKY! Coloured pencil and graphite.
An experiment!
It's been a nice
experience
re-visiting a classic piece.
Using a different technique.
Settling.
(unlike the calumny outside the studio!)
Calumny and back fence talking. The Elves were in their element .
. . .
They had spent the morning casting
aspersions, denigrating their fellow garden
residents.
The Flower Faeries listened, baulked and flew away to a calmer
spot. The Imps and Pixies continued
shadow boxing, pooh poohing every word.
The Ogre, finding his rest from
resting ruined, roared and clouted each Elf coolly
on the head. Slightly dazed, their ears
a-ringing, the Elves retired to the wood . .
. . Peter & Debbie
18th NOT QUITE
WINTER YET! View outside the studio this
morning.
On the pathway to the Autumn
studio..
Golden-reds
against pastel shades
Inspiration for the creative day
while others, outside,
plan wider activities . . . . .
The Wizard had dropped by, on his way to see his cousin, Wizard Lord in the Sahara Desert.
He lived in an Oasis, a mirage Oasis which, only the thirsty traveler could
dream he saw, upon the near horizon.
The Witch had quenched the fire beneath the empty cauldron. The cauldron, clean and polished, would be transported to its
storage space when she had summoned the Ogre after
supper.
The Flower Faeries were abed, the Elves returned home. 'Twas time the creatures of the
night took over the garden.
The Ghosts and ghostly Werewolves
came first, then the bats and fire flies.
The old, forgetful Wizard fell to
earth, hit by a contradictory cross
current of air. He landed askew amid the thistles in the still dark kitchen garden.
The Unicorn heard the thump. Trotted through the gate, saw, trotted back to summon aid from somewhere.
The Goblin and the Gremlin made haste to lend a hand. When the forgetful Wizard's
buzzing head was soothed, his bruis-ed body massaged, he went to find his friend to talk of surreptitiously cast
spells . . . . Peter & Debbie
Written in the
shade of the autumn studio Carefully
considered, as the sun turns cooler . . . . .
A celestial aspect of trees
turning from green to gold. An aspect of Autumn that stirs the
soul . . . .
The green, gold and yellow,
orange, red and brown, a rainbow of Gaea, Greek goddess
of the Earth.
The Elves skipped and shuffled
skipped and ran, creating music, the music of fallen leaves on damp
Autumn soil.
The Flower Faeries had already
cut, sewn and washed their costumes of
pink lavender, cherries and Autumn leaves.
The Witch was going as Red Riding
Hood, carrying yellow roses, white delphinium and daisies in a
basket.
The night should be a serendipity, a romance in Faerie Land . . . . Peter & Debbie
16th THE HOLLY AND
THE IVY The holly and the ivy,
They are not yet
full grown.
But that's not
surprising Given the lack of encouragement
from the inhabitants
of the magic studio garden
at this precise moment in time . . . .
The Elves were getting nowhere, 'cept away with the Faeries . . .
. They possessed no treats to give
away and their tricks were growing
stale.
The Unicorn, the Frog and Toad, the Witch and Wizard, Water Rat
and Weasel, spent their days and weeks and
months in the ever learning process . . .
.
The Flower Faeries had their
procedures, and today, were ladling cups of
organic vegetable soup into bowls for the weekly Faerie
soup kitchen.
The Faeries could rest assured
that, at the head of the queue, would be the enterprising, ever famished, Ogre of the garden . . . . Peter & Debbie
15th NOT QUITE
WINTER YET! View from the studio this morning.
A magnificent view, of the
Stretton Hills.
Peter & Debbie
15th MUTATION
ACHIEVED! A classic reworked.
Silverpoint on gessoed paper.
Silver.
As cool as winter.
The leaves sycamore leaves are
spiraling down. The deciduous trees are almost
naked.
The Birds of Rhiannon are
practicing winter melodies. Carols are out. . . .
The Flower Faeries celebrate the
day of the year that "their" flower, plant, or
tree or bush blooms, the Elves, Pixies and Imps have established their own holiday
seasons.
The Ogre knew nothing of taking a
break. His idea of the daily round, the
common task was to sleep. . . .
The Unicorn would soon be winging
his way to lands far away in the warmer hemisphere. He was loathe to go. However, The winter produced unsatisfactory
conditions for Unicorns.
The Elves cared very little which
season it was.
They cared only that they were the
naughty inhabitants of the garden! Peter & Debbie
14th ESCAPE INTO
SPACE Another classic reworked.
Sometimes, you just want to escape
. . . .
Into Space?
Yet others
in the magic studio garden
already know how to do that . . . .
Squares and rectangles, circles
and moons. Stars in the firmament or the
great unknown? The Celestine Prophesy or magic in
Faery Land?
The Elves, Imps and Pixies, Flower Faeries and Witch had
indelible printed scans of the World of Make Believe, stored in the recesses of their
magical imaginations.
The Unicorn took each minute, each second, as it was and the Ogre expunged every memory, every action, every moment in time. He'd become a wall-to-wall
ball of wax?!
The garden was too small for him -
his legs bestride the ocean, "he was such stuff as dreams are
made of and his little life was rounded
with sleep."
Amen” Peter & Debbie
13th MUTATED CLASSIC Another classic reworked.
Pure silver(point)
this time.
Much Gesso-making
in the Faerie workshop.
Dragon skin glue
and Unicorn hooves.
It's always fun,
to break the chains of classic ingredients!
But if you are going to mess
with traditional ingredients
it's always best
(in case it goes wrong)
to have a scapegoat in mind . . . .
Scapegoats. Chain breakers.
The Ogre, a scapegoat, the Chain breakers, the Elves.
The Witch told the Wizard that the Unicorn craved a magical saddle, a magical
bridle, the wind in his face, and the gem
stone, enstatite, woven into his mane and
tail.
The Wizard plucked at his beard, scratched his forehead and, with a sniff and a sneeze, he showered enstatite gemstones into the Unicorn's nose bag.
The Chain breaker Elves added together 2 + 4 = 7, an interesting and, an unusual
result . . . .
They went on to chant the
multiplication tables, as they bounced on an Elfin
trampoline together . . . . Peter & Debbie
12th THE GODDESS OF
CREATION A classic reworked.
But (you may still
like to) guess the original title if you can.
It's difficult,
getting her to keep still,
to pose, because . . . .
The Head gardener and his
underlings were doing a recce of the garden, before letting it settle down for the late autumn and winter.
The Unicorn had flown westwards, the Witch to the Far East, and the Summer Flower Faeries were packing their bags in preparation for a period of
rest and relaxation . . . . Peter & Debbie
11th GUESS THE
PICTURE? (sussed it yet?)
It'll have a new
title.
But guess the
original title if you can.
You may like to comment,
lend a hand.
Because . . . . . . .
This morning the garden was empty of its Fantasy Art assistants!
The Elves had gone to market,
The Witch was in the house
parlour, selecting a cake for her tea.
The Cook had indulged her passion for designing cakes in "anything
goes" shapes. Her masterpiece had been the
Wizard of The Wood, with his wand, his book of spells
and his grey deluxe spell-hat.
The Owl spent the morning sleeping the sleep of a bird of
the night. The crows drowned their sorrows by
exchanging news, gossip and cawing with laughter .
. . .
The Elves returned at dusk, laden with goodies unpaid for. These included a paddle board each.
Too dark now to "Christian" them, they stored them in the larder, where the Cook would find them at 4 o'clock tomorrow morning.
I've been out for a spin in the
country, putting a Faerie Waggon through
its paces . . . . Peter & Debbie
10th GUESS THE
PICTURE?
A classic revisited . . . . . .
Raw (at this stage).
A magic spell is needed.
Should I get help ?
Who, realistically, could I turn
to?
for a studio assistant!
Because . . . . . . .
Through thick and through thin, the Wizard baby-sat his friend, the increasingly forgetful,
doolally Wizard.
They trod the highways and byways of the Fantasy Light and Dark
Worlds, casting spells, concocting magic potions and, with mathematical precision, devising more suitable, apposite, contemporary, spells.
The friendship was occasionally
sorely tested and became, a veritable battle
ground of,
"No, you canna. . . . " to which, a deafening silence was the response
. . . . ?!
Seems . . . . I will have to rely
solely on myself - to paint it! Peter & Debbie
9th THE VIEW AT THE
BACK OF
THE STUDIO
Michaelmas pastures beckon soon .
. . . .
The Sheep sense the end of the
year is approaching.
Leaves are falling.
Autumn colours are evolving,
towards a winter palette . . . . . . .
Meanwhile out in our magic studio
garden, The Faerie of the Cyclamen
recruited support to
assist in the health care of "her" flowers.
The Head Gardener and his
underlings had worked wonders in the garden. The soil had been dug over, the trees had been pruned, bushes
shaped and sculpted, the lawn had been cut, and the
tennis courts hosed down.
The Elves, Imps and Pixies were in
the fields, storming the citadel of Hullabaloo
Castle. Canon balls flared, exploded, destroying walls, entrance holed.
A sword fight ensued, daggers were
drawn and the Elves scampered off,
shrieking with laughter.
When the high jinks had stopped, silence reigned until the Unicorn
landed.
With a snort and a shudder he
settled down to his snack of grass, hay and an
apple . . . . Peter & Debbie
8th EGG TEMPERA
MAKING AS THE SUN SHONE BRIGHTLY
The blue of the Faerie kingdom . .
. . . . .
Needed this week, to tint a
drawing to be made in pure Silver, then to be exposed for a full week
to the raw air of the Wood, to enable it's full, deep,
oxidized tone.
But there were production issues in the magic studio garden shed .
. . .
The Goblin and the Gremlin had had
a falling out. The Goblin was furious, the
Gremlin fuming. The Elves, Imps and Pixies egged
them on, yelling as loud as you or I would when you carefully prepared paint got wrongly labeled!
The dogs were let outdoors and the rumpus enervated them. Their barking brought the noise to an ear-piercing crescendo. Unable to work, unable to
concentrate, Unable to make my own paint, I strode outdoors and sounded a
bugle.
Silence . . . . Peter & Debbie
7th PAINT MAKING AT
DAWN
The blue of the Faerie Studios,
used for centuries . . . . . . .
Hand ground, deep in the wood
_very_ slowly, then collected in the full beam of
the rainbow, to release its' true, fluffy,
granular strength.
Perfect for the Faerie palette.
As the Faeries made their paint the sun rose through the
shimmering pink dawn,
a vague warmth replaced the raw chill of the night.
Life stirred in the garden. The Elves brushed the leaves from
their clothes, unwound the garden hose, and turned on the water.
Feeling "duty accomplished," they chased through the front door, down the stairs to the kitchen, to breakfast introduction "full stop"
no.1.
The Flower Faeries were chasing
their shadows, outlining one another's shadow
portraits and taking virtual, snap shots.
They outlined the Unicorn, the Oak
and the Goblin, the Gremlin cried, "My shadow is private and
personal. 'Tis for me, only me, You may not capture my shadow!! Peter & Debbie
6th GONE FISHING
Day in town . . . .
Shrewsbury.
Shrewsbury Castle.
I really ought to draw it one day,
since it's there.
But, today, the weather is too
nice.
A fine and bracing Autumn day,
'tis . . . .
So, I'm off to fish in the river Severn.
Going alone, I put my foot down, accelerate, I tear along the country roads.
The garden, when I left, was quiet. The Elves were in the
stable/garage, pretending to be wagon drivers. In the tennis court the Witch was
practicing her serves and forehand.
The Flower Faeries were riding
high . . . . The Faerie Queen was popping in, to visit her woodland subjects. The fresh water Mermaid, the Sea
horse and, the Frog and Toad were in the lake
'neath the hills, hosting a Fantasy feast.
The Cook breathed easy, coasted along till the Elves
tummies began rumbling and they made a hit on the pantry
. . . . Peter & Debbie
5th THE VIEW FROM
THE STUDIO
This morning's inspiring view from
the studio.
Seems a shame, despite the cold
weather, to stay indoors and draw.
Pub!
:)
Meanwhile out in our magic studio
garden
there's fisticuffs going on . . . .
The Goblin and the Gremlin were fighting for the crown. The top “ring-a-ring-a-roses”
crown and, a throne and, a trip to the city
of “ring-a-ring-a-roses” Shangri la .
. . .
The Elves, the Imps and Pixies were tuning their mandolins and, shortly they would compose Faerie land "Top Ten" Chart tracks.
The Ogre was not keen, ya know, to listen to "that racket." His flying helmet, his goggles, and his flying gloves
on. Orders to take off . . . . ? When?
Toodle oo, and to toddle oo. . . .
Peter & Debbie
4th THE LAST LAUGH
OF SUMMER
Here he is.
The fungus man.
He visits at the end of summer.
Hangs around the summer studio.
Gone now.
But he'll be back - next year . .
. . .
Our magic studio garden
It's extraordinary . . . .
"Extraordinarily extraordinary."
The Unicorn spoke the language of
the garden Fantasy Land in horse-speak and the creature
residents understood and responded.
"The Elves, we all sense, are a
blot on the landscape. Like blockages in drain pipes. Every pipe should be widened to
flush out the debris . . . . (?!)
The Flower Faeries spoke with the
musical lilt of "their" flower and, the bewitching melody thereof . .
. .
The Witch composed the score, the Magician the music, the Owl gave the go-ahead and the birds of Rhiannon sang. Peter & Debbie
Wife of of Pwyll Pendefig Dyfed,
mistakenly punished for infanticide. Associated with otherworldly
birds, their melody singing across the waters in the Happy Isles of the Blessed,
the sweetest sound ever heard by any mortal ear and every other tune seemed
unlovely beside it, a wondrous song to wake the dead, and send the living to sleep, and
horses, both accompanying the dead on their journey to the next world
. . . . .
Rhiannon . . . . inescapably tied in the knot of aloneness and loneliness, rested her fingers on the
glassless windowsill and dreamed of a life without
Pwyll, imprisonment and subjugation.
The "break fast" meal, brought to
her by a servant, she consumed as an after-thought. Cries for help were dispatched by
telepathy, projected by telepathy to her
sisters. She waited. "Quel che sera, sera . . . . ”
As she gazed at the pea-sized view
of the landscape, a view of her "land of Utopia" emerged from transparency to life.
Eyes closed, Rhiannon smiled a magical smile, lifted her eyelids as her steed
materialised, hugged him, gave him whispered
directions - and, whisperingly, hushingly, they were gone . . . . Peter & Debbie
Centred in the coils of the Dragon Where Arthur trod The Artist paints And where Merlin sleeps The writer writes in a land of Myth & Legend . . . . . . .
The temperature descended, the weather deteriorated . . . .
The Elves ceased to swim in the
pond. They washed their faces, washed their beards and trimmed
them. That is all . . . .
The Ogre sat in a ginormous tin
tub, whilst jugs of hot water were
poured down his back and into the tub.
He brushed his teeth, combed his hair, combed his beard and, fatigued by the effort, he bumbled into the garden to relax and sleep.
The Witch, the Wizard and his
forgetful friend, shunted the cauldron into the
magic garden, where the Faerie of Topiary
resided.
A potion of freesia, sweet William and peony simmered
quietly. Spells were cast and forwarded to destinations far and wide, blown North, South, East, West on the eye of the wind . . . .
Because outside the studio
back up in the wood and beyond and around
the world of Simulacra
is never without surprises . . . . . . .
The Dragon had landed without the
use of his tail. His wings were torn in two places
and, he had a crick in his neck . . . .
A foray to Greenland had been an
adventure. The distance to cover, "The Tempest" weather, the waves and sea wind were, thundering awful to battle
through, though awe inspiring to behold?!
The Flower Faeries and the
"doctor," administered first aid. The Witch brought him a humongous
bowl of food and a glass of mineral water
for which he had a weakness.
His wings were pieced together,
his neck massaged gently. The Dragon stayed put until he had
recovered . . . .
Don't miss it, be IN, at the
VOLTE-FACE . . . . . . .
And . . . .
the VOLTE-FACE is materialising
in the magic studio garden . . . . .
The Flower Faeries were grooming
the Unicorn. In the palms of the
Faerie of the Forget me Not, were, Diamonds, Sapphires, Rubies,
Emeralds and, sprinkles of, moonbeams, and star
dust.
The Unicorn craned his neck -
inquisitively, was elated, and, pawed the turf,
and snorted. Today he would be a Jewel in the
Crown . . . .
The Wizard, the Witch and the
Forgetful One, were jubilant. The Ghosts outlined the Fantasy
creature with an aura of serenity and, an aura of Wizard magical magic.
The garden slept on until the sun
rose, and, the garden creatures stirred, the Owl blinked and squeezed his
eyes, slept off and for twelve hours . .
. .
The Elves had retrieved a gold and
silver, and copper-coloured trove of
marmalade! T'was laced with champagne and stamped with the "Title of
Authority," Made in the United Kingdom - exclusively for Fortnum and Mason
. . . .
The Elves unscrewed the lids, played "Fiddlesticks" with the
spoons and, wiped the lids with their fingers
and, licked the swanky contents with
their fingers till, ooooh la la, then their "sweet tooth" had been
indulged to the hilt, and . . . .
We shall know the state of their
tummies on the morrow.
Shall they be in the garden, in quarantine, or would've the
Elfen ambulances rushed to their rescue?
And . . . . "bouncy-castled" them to, The
Royal Elfen Hospital . . . .
The magical dinosaur from the
magical Isles, the Isles of Dreams and what might
have Happened, cresting the waves on his 1920s
Red Dragon motorcycle . . . .
The sea horses ricocheted through the underwater currents. The jelly fish pumped their way through the salt water.
Waves scudded and curled a wide path to the shore . . . .
The seagulls screeched, the Elves constructed sand castles.
With well-aimed kicks, the sand castles returned to their
source . . . .
Peter & Debbie
27th MAGAZINE TIME
- Autumn edition
SIMULACRA .
"Flow" (one idea leads to another).
A new pen technique.
Battle of The Tress. Zapped! (the art of deliberate
ambiguity).
The Flower Faeries were excited,
skittish, today. They danced the Can Can, the
Tango, the Cha Cha and Gavotte, settled upon the petals of the
Sugared Almond flower, tarried awhile to greet the Witch.
Dressed in a black cloak, a grey ankle-length robe, and, sporting a stylish pointed
hat, both she and the Ogre arrived
simultaneously.
The Wizard appeared next, his tall hat askew, his right shoe on the left foot, the left on the right . . . .
He had misplaced his wand, spell book and patience. His choleric temper had
disappeared down the plug hole.
The Gnome and the Goblin had
abluted themselves before dawn, had climbed to the uppermost
branches of the Oak, dutifully enacted their first
tricks of the day, discountenancing the Owl - oh my . . . .
The Witch, the Wizard and the Honourable Lord Chancellor
were, reading the American Constitution, written in Latin and translated into Fantasy language and the
Elfin tongue . . . .
The Elves were riding their Elfin
motorciclette over hills and dales. Through fields, forest, wood, until, the oil dried and the power
failed.
The garden was a great way off. The Elves slogged back, dragging
the bikes. 'Twas dark by the time "their"
garden home was reached. The Witch fed them and watered
them, gave them a wash, and, that was the end of their
expo-tition . . . .
The Garden Elves were
transgressing, (as is the way of all flesh) . . .
. A sheath of arrows, a bow, a
sling, and a weapon of hot curry
spices was, today, their choice . . . .
The Cook was on lock down, the
cats ruled the house. In the garden, the Elves were
"pouring oil on troubled water."
The Flower Faeries had only the
Unicorn to groom. 'Twas the Faeries of Ivy, Holly
bush and the winter flowers who, were free to vent their creative
yearnings.
The Pixies and Imps had filled a
bucket with water, added an apple and competed with each other to see, which of them succeeded in getting
his teeth to bite the apple and lift it out of
bucket . . . . . . . .
Meanwhile . . . .
life outside the studio
is, as usual,
caught-up in it's own decision-making issues . . . .
The forgetful Wizard had omitted
to polish his shoes and wash his hair . . . . The clothes he wore required a
launder, his eyes required a test, and the spectacles on his nose
required an up-date
His Wizard companion frequently
spotted, so immersed was he reading his
spell book with a squint, his Wizard nose pressed against
the page, that, whatever the weather, wherever he
went, a "drama episode" occurred which
would, demand an appointment with the
Wizard doctor, or, a stay at the Wizards' magically
transparent hospital, which, materialised in a field.
Each member of staff was
conversant in the "what do we do next?" that, he, or she, had ear marked a room at the hospital,
reserving it exclusively for him. Setting it aside, and stocking it
with, the forgetful Wizard's favourite
tea and hot chocolate, and a wash bag, vintage car and
bicycle magazines, a personal pottery lunch, tea,
dinner set and a personal cutlery set . . . .
Peter & Debbie
23rd A DREAM IN
PROGRESS
Coming to the end of the drawing .
. . . . .
Just a little more to do, a few
decisions still to take.
Need to ignore the cerfuffle
outside the studio . . . .
The Faerie of the Banana tree, and the Faerie of the Plantains, were dressed in Cavallo-designed
Riding gear, gloves and hard hats.
They quaffed a stirrup cup,
gathered the reins, and pressing the flanks of their
cantered and galloped through the Caribbean
landscape . . . . Their faces turning windwards, they ingathered the reins. The Hunting Horn resounded. The Master of the Hunt leading, the Hunt broke ranks and, hounds baying, instructions barked, the Hunt rode westward, the Fox sprinted to the East . . .
.
Peter & Debbie
22nd A DREAM IN
PROGRESS
Sometimes, even the neighbour's
cat has a use . . . . . .
It's been easier than I thought,
trying to concentrate.
While I was getting it to pose Somebody else was up to mischief
with her own cat . . .
The Witch, her cat, and the Wizard were building a sky-scraper
bonfire.
The Elves brought matches, the
Pixies, fire lighters, and the Imps a blanket with which
to extinguish the flaming edifice.
The Toad swam back stroke, the Elves dipped and dived, the Pixies, the Imps and a swan with her cygnets, intermingled.
The Elves and the Swan had come to
terms, and the Elves baby-sat the
cygnets, too young to understand anything
beyond, "keep your distance or I shall
bite you . . . ."
Peter & Debbie
21st A LUCID DREAM
Basically, what I am trying to do,
is give the impression the woman
is having a "Lucid dream".
I'm trying to create it so
that it is deliberately vague as to whether it is her hair, a stream of thought, or the dragon
structure behind her.
It is all "one and the same".
It is all "a dream . . . ."
Yes, it's all a dream.,
But is it?,
It's hard to tell, what is real, and what is not,
out, in the magic, studio, garden . . . .!
The Witch was hanging magical
Faery lanterns in the kitchen, in the scullery and in the
greenhouse.
The Flower Faeries placed inside
each, a candle and glitter bugs, drawing
swords with the Cook, Head gardener and House Keeper . . . . The Elves, the Imps and the
Pixies, poked their "what is going
forward?" noses into the spat, and asked
repeatedly, "From whence does the humming
come?"
The Ogre shambled Oak tree wards, the Witch left her cauldron to
bubble, and, assembled an Ogre breakfast.
He consumed the meal, threw the cup and plates on the grass,
and slept the sleep of the spoilt
individual . . . .
Peter & Debbie
20th DRAGON"S BREATH
Working on logo design for
novel . . . . . .
I was hoping I'd get some help,
it's a hard design to create,
so I got a Dragon to pose for me!
The Dragon had landed without the
use of his tail. His wings were torn in two places
and, he had a crick in his neck . . . .
A foray to Greenland had been an
adventure. The distance to cover, "The Tempest" weather, the waves
and sea wind
were, thundering awful to battle
through, though awe inspiring to
behold?!
The Flower Faeries and the
"doctor," administered first aid. The Witch brought him a humongous
bowl of food and a glass of
mineral water for which he had a weakness.
His wings were pieced together,
his neck massaged gently. The Dragon stayed put until he had
recovered . . . .
But exasperating that . . . . . (well, no, actually, it isn't, it's just great fun! So I'll just let others be
exasperated outside the studio . . . . . . )
The Toad, the Warthog and Weasel were up to their ears exasperated
. . . . The Pixies, the Imps, the Goblin
and Gnome were riding the wind in an hot air
balloon.
The skies were empty except for
Cumulonimbus clouds, which foretell storm or tempest
ahead . . . . and to which the Pixies and Imps
shut their eyes.
The Elves were returned to the
garden, after a morning spent atop the
hills. They had an appointment with the
Witch of these hills to procure wild flowers and hops
to, brew her specialty, Wonder Witch
Beer.
The afternoon drifted into
evening, a fire lit on the lawn, and the Owl prepared himself for a night
spent catching food with his claws and beak . . . .
I was hoping I'd get some help,
with this month's newsletter,
but our garden friends have other priorities . . .
. . . .
The Flower Faeries were teaching
the little 'uns "human" Nursery rhymes, who, recited the words - those they could follow - at the top of their voices . . . .
There followed a rendition of the Flower Faerie Alphabet and counting to 10 on their
miniature fingers.
The Witch participated in the
lesson of "touch/feel, the difference
between mud, sand and earth, pebbles, stones
and rocks.
Tomorrow they would learn the
names of colours, the diverse shapes, forms and
sizes of "things," and scribbling on paper with
coloured pencils.
The school day had begun at
daybreak, and before being collected, the little 'uns were fed a snack
of Faerie biscuits and Faerie "Baby" cappuccino . . . .
With the school day finished, everyone went home, dancing, fluttering their wings, in bounteous good cheer, 'cos lessons, though not necessarily
boring, to boot they must sit still, pay
attention, neither chatter nor move from
their blankets on the lawn . . . .
Time to meet-up with Anne, yet
again As I've said before, she's not the
studio
model. She's the wonderful counter staff
lady at the Post Office. Double-checks
every detail of my shipments.. Dependable. Reliable. Professional.
Magic !
Soon, we will have to leave the
garden,
because it's that time of year again.
Winter's coming and
we remember how it was last year. . .
. . . .
The nights were turned raw, darkness falling earlier. The winds gusted and blew, the mist and on some days, a damp,
grey fog . . . .
By mid-morning the mist or fog was
gone, a weak sun giving light,
but, warmth? A mere drop in the ocean . . . . Naught to write home about!
The Elves, Imps and Pixies slept between Faerie sewn cotton sheets
, Faerie knitted wool blankets, and
for comfort, soft, duck feather filled pillows.
The Ogre was scarce able to sleep
upon the lawn. The Witch laid bark and twigs
under the Oak, over which she laid a ground
sheet, a folded blanket and placed a
goblet of Witch -made, Honey Nut tea.
The Unicorn visited the garden, a "favourite place," of his,
frequently, was groomed, brushed and beautified by the
exquisite Flower Faeries . . . .
Looking to incorporate it
permanently in my range of standard drawing techniques.
It's a "soup" of techniques to
create this.
And, talking of recipes . . . . . .
The Witch was in the kitchen
garden,
consulting the Cook,
about the benefits of red lentil,
as opposed to pea soup . . .
. . . .
"Peas are a source of carbohydrate
and vitamins. Alternate peas for broccoli and
sugar peas, and Bob's your uncle?! I shall cook a pot next week, so
as you can sample a spoonful . . . . " The Elves and the Imps, (the
Pixies had gone fishing), were sunning themselves on the
grass, listening in. scribble scrabbled a note in their
notebook, and magical magic, they had found something to new!
Peter & Debbie
15th "PAJ DOES
LEONARDO III ?" The dare, the taunt. . . . . Could I draw a picture in the
"style/technique"of Leonardo? (The pressure's building!)
1). Take aged paper (exposed to light hung in studio
window for several years)
2). Cook it at medium temperature in oven until
edges begin to darken.
4). Use 2H pencil to put detail into figure
(that's "PAJ
technique", not "Leonardo technique")
5). Partially erase (!) pencil work with soft putty
rubber to give faded "Leonardo look".
6). Draw over 2H pencil work with traditional
Sanguine chalks/heighten with white chalk
7). Last stage = gently file edges of paper to fray
them to give 16th Century appearance
(ie: hand made
paper/parchment, not 21st century mass market paper).
8). Buy Italian Beer at pub this afternoon to
acknowledge Mr. Da Vinci's talent
Process complete (sorry Leonardo,
I tried, respect mate, total respect).
Meanwhile
outside in the studio garden
the Ogre needs a Saviour . .
. . . .
The Ogre had been coerced, and by throwing in the towel, proved to his fellow garden
residents that he was a dissenter, whose beliefs were slaves to an Ogre-sized pocket slush fund . . . . The Witch was his liberator, his
Saviour. She possessed a cache of spare
money stored within sacs in her
underground vault . . . . The Ogre slept and, the Witch
magicked spells which her cat ate his snack, and a bowl of rice, petite fours for cats and a bowl
of fresh milk.
The dogs were in the Library
eating plastic toy bones to assuage
growly, crabby bellies?...
The Elves lit a fire, collected
sharp twigs and, roasted sweet potatoes with apples
and Elfen chestnuts . . . .
Peter & Debbie
14th "PAJ DOES
LEONARDO II ?" The dare, the taunt. . . . . Could I draw a picture in the
"style/technique"of Leonardo? (The pressure's building!)
OK, so far . . . .
1). Take aged paper (exposed to light hung in studio
window for several years)
2). Cook it at medium temperature in oven until
edges begin to darken.
4). Use 2H pencil to put detail into figure
(that's "PAJ
technique", not "Leonardo technique")
5). Partially erase (!) pencil work with soft putty
rubber to give faded "Leonardo look".
Next !
Meanwhile
outside in the studio garden
the usual chaos reigns. .
. . . .
The Faeries of the Wood and the
Sugar Plum Faerie, were sitting upon a rug in a glade. A male cuckoo called, a female answered.
The crows had stolen the nest of a
Blue Tit - flown. Gone!!!
The Elves, Imps and Pixies were
upstairs in the attics, playing with the toys of my
childhood, discarded and stored for
posterity?!
At supper time they shut the door, slid down the banisters, entered the kitchen, and ate my salad and sandwich
supper, jello and custard?!
The Cook went beserkers, screeched, and chased the Elves, Imps and Pixies up the staircase
to the hall, and waited, gasping for breath, till the last rascal was through
and out . . . .
Peter & Debbie
13th "PAJ DOES
LEONARDO?" The dare, the taunt. . . . . Could I draw a picture in the
"style/technique"of Leonardo? Yeah, right, sure, of course (huh!) OK, here goes . . . .
1). Take aged paper (exposed to light hung in studio
window for several years)
2). Cook it at medium temperature in oven until
edges begin to darken.
Meanwhile
outside in the studio garden
another struggle is unfolding. .
. . . .
The ducks on the pond were yakking
and quacking. The Elves had dived in this moment
to ready, steady, go, an exhibition of racing,
swimming-round and around anti-clockwise a la
Elfin crawl . . . . The water became choppier, mini wavelets lapped the mud. And their hollering and whooping disturbed the ducks' sought-after
tranquility . . . .
The Ogre galumphed through the
trees and across the lawn. He took a look-see, assumed his usual position under
the Oak was safe - and slept.
Oh, yeah?
The Flower Faeries groomed the
Unicorn, and, sewed into its mane, Star
Sapphires, Star Rubies and Larimar jewels.
Full of self-satisfaction, the Unicorn tapped the shoulder of
the Ogre and, received a smack in the kisser . . . . !?
Peter & Debbie
12th "STRANGE
IMAGERY V" And finally . . . . .
(sorry, image is a bit blurry).
Any ideas?
The struggle between good and evil
?
Meanwhile
outside in the studio garden
another struggle is unfolding. .
. . . .
Melancholic, tristful, dysphoric,
nay, long in the tooth . . . . the Beech and Birch trees were
invariably irritated?!
Their branches didn't intertwine, both had plenty of room, their root systems were healthy .
. . . Their patience? Dematerialised!
The Winter, the Spring, over. T'was the eve of Mid-summer, when,
the gauntlet was thrown down, the battle began . . . .
Inflexible, creaky, slow to react, the weapon chosen was "tear the
enemy's heart out. Exhaust him. Call in a storm from the likes of
which, he will never recover . . . . "
The Beech won round 1, round 2, 3,
and 4. Exhausted they took a short
recess, drank water. Round 5 was stalemate, round 6, slow and wobbly, round 7 was the decider - the Birch struck his opponent with
a desperate last "gasp."
Wheezing, bent over, and at his
wit's end, he was thunderstruck to see, the Beech "
Peter & Debbie
11th "STRANGE
IMAGERY III" And again . . . ..
Puzzled.
Any ideas?
Perhaps it's even weirder
than what goes on
outside the studio. .
. . . .
The Dormouse quivered and
procrastinated, goose bumpy with dread at the
prospect of meeting fellow garden residents.
A Pixy approached him, gave him a
tickle, before leading him downstairs and out the
kitchen door, and on to the lawn neath the Oak
tree.
The Ogre was kind of awake - (possibly, not probably). Bleary eyed, he squinted at the
incomer, vextending his huge "paw."
Each garden resident introduced
himself, herself and the Witch was
courteous, thoughtful, looked amused, then invited each
Fantastical, Fantasy creature to tea in the
tennis courts.
The Elves stood beside the
Dormouse, monitoring his every move, to find out which of their tricks
would be "just the ticket . . . . "
Peter & Debbie
10th "STRANGE
IMAGERY II" No.
I' don't know what this is
either?
Any ideas?
Perhaps it's even weirder
than what goes on
outside the studio. .
. . . .
The Flower Faeries were
auditioning for the Pantomime, "Cinderella." T'was to be take place at Flower
Faerie Christmas, in the sitting room of the house.
The Faerie Queen, her Lord
Chamberlain, and the High Sheriff of Faerie Land, the judges, sat upon the sofa garbed in their
uniforms . . . .
The morning progressed, choices made, understudies set, and every Flower Faerie would take
part . . . .
Their smiles dazzled the sleepy
Owl, enthused the approaching Ogre, the Elves were bemused and both
Gremlin and Goblin were so
bemused, that vwomp, splash. Into the garden pond they both
fell . . . .
The Unicorn cantered forward, the Faeries settled on his back. Adieu for today, they mouthed and
were transported round the globe.
The Green Dragon Hotel, Hereford,
UK, and it's relationship with The Dragon of Mordiford a
Herefordshire village situated at the confluence of the River Lugg and
the River Wye.
The dragon, green in colour, loved
a small girl named Maud, who had nurtured it from infancy. In adulthood, she was the only
person safe from its powers, she alone able to calm its ferocity . . .
. . . .
Still working on reserching it,
so, another hotel stay excuse soon !
The Dragon was, and is, green
but soon, my fingers wil be blue
too cold to sit and draw in the open air .
. . . .
The brightness of summer was becoming Autumnal, chilly raw at night.
The Owl lingered on his branch for
a minute, shook out his feathers and retired
into his "home" in the Oak.
The crows gathered daily at crack
of dawn, exchanging information and gossip
full tilt, full volume . . . .
The birds of Rhiannon were oftener
with "their" Royal Faerie Queen than taking our breath away with
their songs.
The Frog, Toad and Water Rat were
to some degree, impervious, and the Elves wore Autumnal coats and colourful wellington boots?!
The Flower Faeries had connived to
pass the winter "somewhere" in the Southern Hemisphere.
They were designing tres chic
wardrobes for a luxurious vacation in a
Faerie Land of golden sands. The classic motor cars parked in
the stable/garage, had daily to be driven, lest they seize up and refuse to
function . . . .
Peter & Debbie
8th "STRANGE
IMAGERY" No.
I'm not entirely sure what it is
either?
Any ideas?
Perhaps it's even weirder
than what goes on
outside the studio. .
. . . .
The Goblin and the Gremlin were in the Withdrawing Room, the Goblin upon an armchair, the Gremlin on the sofa.
They were perusing Classic car
magazines, and those about Vintage Motor
cycles.
The Mouse, the Spider and a Ghost of the Romantic period, were playing a game of Poker, the Mouse using his tail and the
spider, his eight legs.
The Elves clambered skilfully through the Dining Room chimney, adopting the old-style, child chimney sweep method.
They climbed to the tip top, emerging above the roof, on top of the world . . . . Regaining their breath, and two by two, wriggled and slipped till arrived
at the rain gutters, where they sat, soaking their dusty boots in the rain water . . . .
The sun sank, a new moon rose, an owl hooted, and the Elves slid down the down pipe . . . .
Peter & Debbie
7th "STUDIO FRIENDS" Beautiful, is it not?
Found it climbing up the side of
the summer studio.
LOVE the colour combination, the
contrast with the background.
A beautiful and strange creature.
Well, he's in the right place . .
. . . .
The Elves were on their Elfen
bicycles, riding like Dante's Devils from
the Inferno . . . . Bicycles in top gear, they jumped the pond, the stream and
the kitchen garden gate.
The Witch had been casting spells,
and, from the cauldron rose the scents
of Rose, Jasmine and Almonds, sweet
pea and flowers of the Rowen tree.
The Ogre was smelling of pachouli
and Bulgari Man in Black eat de
parfum spray for Men?! the Flower Faeries, having hosed
him, soaped his face and neck, shaved his whiskers and trimmed his beard . . . .
The Unicorn, his long eyelashes combed and curled, his coat
brushed, his mane and tail washed and
dried, was standing still one minute, moving restively the next.
His coat was matt today, aglow with seed pearls, minuscule Faerie Agate, Sapphires and Emeralds.
Tonight he would aviate the globe
with hearts in his eyes . . . .
Peter & Debbie
6th "TIMEOUT
TUESDAY" Had a new admirer while working
outside today.
Sat and watched me draw for 30
minutes.
3rd time he's shown up.
I think, maybe, he wants his
portrait drawn?
(I know, I know, he was just
looking for lunch . . . . . . . . )
Well, he's in the right place . .
. . . .
Life in the garden had returned to
everyday normalcy. The Witch pealing organic potatoes
to stew vegetarian soup and potato salad. The Elves would want bowls, (and bowls) of it, The Ogre half the cauldron . . . .
The onions in the kitchen garden would suffice a thieving. The Elves, Imps and Pixies
subpoenaed to "officiate." This they did, magna cum laude . .
. .
The pile of onions was cooked by a
streaming-eyed Witch, tasted "smack of the lips." The hollow-stomached Ogre,
breakfast less, consumed the entire contents of a
"for the Ogre only," cauldron of onion soup with
croutons?!
Peter & Debbie
5th "DEEP MONDAY" New Limited Edition Print release.
4th "SLOW-DOWN
SUNDAY" (not). Time to get the tarpaulin out. Cover the pond. Sharpen winter pencils. Organise cool paint mixing. Collect the repaired
winter-rucksack from the repair shop . . . . Get the woolly socks ready !
Meanwhile,
now we're back home,
out in our magical studio garden,
normalcy unfolds . . . . . .
The Goblin was inhaling deeply through a Nasal stick. His nose was stuffy with cold, red and swollen, too, as the result of being wiped sore
. . . .
The Gnome was unsympathetic, the Flower Faeries pussyfooted
round him, the Witch cooked a small cauldron
of consommé, and a tiny glass of whiskey, mixed with honey, fresh lemon, and hot water.
He drifted into the stable as
midday loomed, lay down in the hay, and gave up pretending that he had
"things of import to do . . . . "
A last drink from the Witch, face and neck wash with cool water
from the now-sympathetic, Flower Faeries, and, into dreamland he plummeted . . .
.
Peter & Debbie
3rd "SHIP-OUT
SATURDAY" (time to clean the palette). En Plein Air (ends). Bye bye, High Town, Hereford. One last Cappuccino - fold up
paintbrush - pack the rucksack. Train tickets in hand . . .
. Taxi !
Meanwhile,
back home,
out in our magical studio garden,
reports suggest . . . . . .
Both Goblin and Gremlin were to become fans of Yoga. The Witch preferred Pilates and
"abstract" dance, or, movement to music overseen by
an instructor.
The birds of Rhiannon occasionally
provided this, "live . . . . "
The Elves rarely attended any one
of the classes offered, except, lifting Fantasy creature weights, Elfinstyle swimming, running, jumping, skipping, shadow-boxing.
The Flower Faeries's delight was aerial gymnastics, dancing
anywhere, be it dry land, bog or water . . .
. They also rode bareback if the
Unicorn allowed them.
When we played a tennis or
badminton match, they all came to watch and the
Elves, Imps and Pixies to jeer . . . .
Peter & Debbie
2nd "FRAPPÉ FRIDAY" (well, it was, when I wrote it). En Plein Air [ɑ̃ plɛn ɛːʁ])
(completed). High Town, Hereford. In the square. Frappé - paintbrush - paint. The (amended) complete kit!!
Meanwhile,
back home,
out in our magical studio garden,
reports suggest . . . . . .
The Elves, the Pixies, and the
Imps, had, run out of ideas with which to bug the other garden residents
- and the Cook . . . .
They crowded together on the
tennis courts. Flipperty gibbers, flipperty
gibbers . . . . T'was optate?! Decision.
Playing guitar with the Rolling
Stones, Mick Taylor's superlative, "Sympathy for the Devil," poured
oil upon the overwrought nerves of the
Elves.
The Pixies, Imps, Goblin and Gnome, snuggled into the Ogre's broad
back for warmth. His basso snores metamorphosed into a baritone basso,
sniff, snort, ah ah ah, choo?!
The Witch picked dandelions and
daisies, (slap on the wrist - they are
protected). She hoed her magical plants and
herbs, and, armed with capacious shopping
basket, hightailed it to the market . . .
.
The Flower Faeries, resplendent in their steampunk
costumes, perched atop their favourite,
similacrum flower.
The Queen of the Faeries, body guards and Ladies in Waiting, wheezed, shook her gown out
with trembling fingers and, twirled her fan con dolore . . . .
Debbie Jones
(Italian to English : dolore means
grief.)
Peter & Debbie
1st "THOUGHTFUL
THURSDAY" (well, it was, when I wrote it). En Plein Air (detail). High Town, Hereford. In the square. Coffee - paintbrush - paint. The complete kit!!
Meanwhile,
back home,
out in our magical studio garden,
reports suggest . . . . . .
The Wizard spelled "Hello" in
Ancient Greek language, rendered in Dragon smoke, accumulated by degrees and stored in his
"potpourri" treasure trove within a Cirrus cloud . . . .
The Flower Faeries flew as near to the lettering as was
achievable. The Witch flew as a kind of tail
end Charlie.
The birds of Rhiannon had been
distracted by an irritable Owl, returned to
the Oak, after a long night seeking
food, and achieving little in the way of
success at all . . . .
The Mermaid was reclining on a
rock in the pond, combing her hair and eating a plum
. . . . The Elves had nabbed the pond
rushes so as to manufacture baskets, which they'd utilise to thieve any
left-over, or fresh cooked food in the pantry
and kitchen . . . .
Peter & Debbie
August 2016
Blog
31st "WEBBY
WEDNESDAY" (well, it was, when I wrote it).
Door handle Hereford Cathedral (not
surprisingly, in Hereford). On day one of a week's painting
trip.
Want one, for our studio door!
Meanwhile,
back home,
out in our magical studio garden,
reports suggest . . . . . .
The Toad, the Frog and the Water
Rat, were watching a comet traverse the
night skies.
They pinpointed the signs of the
zodiac, and, together recited the planets by
name . . . . Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto?!
The Unicorn cantered from moon
beam to moon beam, halted, and commenced a sequence of Unicorn
dressage.
The electric lights from the house
were overkill, t'was decided, so, they entered room, dimmed the bulbs, one by one, diminishing the house's "centre
stage" positure.
The Magical Fantasy creatures of
the after dark, scuttled or, sidled on to the lawn, poked the Ogre to wakefulness and, ate their Flower Faerie snacks quaffed cups of simpatico to
Fantasy creatures, non - alcoholic, wine or beer . .
. .
The muted colours of dawn
appeared, the sun rose, the Ogre snored . .
. . And, the birds of Rhiannon sang, "Stairway to heaven," in 30's style . . . . "
Peter & Debbie
30th "Tu.mul.tu.ous
TUESDAY"
Grey. . . . (From the book "1st Tales from
Shattered Earth")
"Grey" was one of the original
icon-sized oil and acrylic paintings created for the
experimental e-commerce project of the early 1990s
called "Barclaycoin", an early attempt to create a reliable system for
online purchases.
Meanwhile,
nearer home back on Earth,
out in our magical studio garden . . . . . .
The Faerie of the Magnolia was settled comfortably on one of
"her" flowers, inspecting its health and
smoothing its petals. A quick foray around the bush
caused her no perturbation.
Her fellow garden residents were
milling about the lawn, the Elves, Imps and Pixies playing
footie near the wood.
The Witch was laundering the many
Wizard's cloaks, mending the holes in his socks and
polishing his shoes.
The Wizard shared a breakfast with
his forgetful friend, took him for a constitutional, and then joined the Witch to drink
Green tea and casting the selection of
spells from those on "the list for today."
The ghosts and the ghostly Wolves
and Werewolves, had absconded to the hills, where they roamed
enthusiastically, frightening hill walkers,
climbers, the deer and kestrels?!
The Toad, the Frog and the Water
Rat pottered through the trees to the
wood pond, to visit the fresh water Mermaid.
She was, at this moment, reclining
upon a rock, combing her long, auburn hair, and assessing the feel and
atmosphere of her immediate surroundings - calm and tranquil, or beset by undercurrents of
unsettledness.
The Witches of the wood were indulging in a Pilates
class, omitting those exercises which they found too difficult to
perform . . . .
“The hour of his doom is rung . .
. . They will be our affliction, sore
and long. Until the wild boar bears the
crown of Cornwall . . . . Better meat to those who will
recite his praise.”
Long, long ago, before the reign
of Arthur . . . . . .
(and up-country a-ways, by train .
. . . . )
Meanwhile,
nearer home,
out in our magical studio garden . . . . . .
The Magical beings in the garden were not untrammeled, by a legal list of rules,
regulations and Fantasy Land - kinda laws.
The Unicorn "did his thing," the Flower Faeries did their's, the Ogre could not read, neither would he have remembered, to live his sleepy life according
to "pre-payment plans . . . . "
The Witch, the Wizard and, of
course, the Ghosts, were oft-times, from soup to nuts,
invisible. Ergo, neither discernible to the eye, nor indictable, except invisibly . . . . The Elves were "above the law," the Pixies could care less and, the Imps, Goblin and Gnome would have paid little heed to, yet more information to remember.
As long as the Elves felt, and
were treated, as, leaders of the pack, what we want,
goes, they cared diddly squat . . . . The dogs were exercised, had been for a "walk/run," the cats had upset their dishes of
water and sat flicking their tails, till, the cook took the hint, and brought them replenishments?!
Up exceedingly early to walk the
dogs, I, with heartfelt relief, retired to my attic office/studio
to sort and grade articles, stack them neatly in a pile, begin at the begun . . . . Peter & Debbie
28th "SLOW DOWN
SUNDAY" For those who like a different
kind of fantasy . . . . and for those who visited and those who asked. http://churchstretton.info
Welcome to Church Stretton!
Meanwhile,
after a walk 'round town,
back in our magical studio garden . . . . . .
"Sleep tight. Don't let the bed
bugs bite", chanted the Pixies, Imps and the
birds of Rhiannon.
The Toad and the Weasel, the Water Rat and the ghostly
Wolves and Wolverines, yowled and squeaked and croaked "blue murder . . . . "
The Unicorn, undergoing an
evening's rub down, dug his hooves in and whinnied so
piercingly, that the Flower Faeries covered their
ears with their hands and grimaced.
A clap of thunder rolled, sheet
lightening blazed. The garden emptied quick as a flea, the only creature remaining, the
exhausted Owl . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
back in the non-digital space,
out in our magic studio garden . . . . . .
The Elves had woken early, intent
upon inaugurating an Elfin rifle shooting competition . . . . The ammunition they used was
non-lethal, thank goodness . . . .
Easily distracted, the Elves, Imps
and Pixies never took correct or
reliable aim?!
They polished their Elfin rifles, they put on shirts and plus fours, socks and gaiters, gardening
boots(?), and back-to-front American baseball
caps.
The shooting ranges were
constructed, the targets positioned. The podiums were assembled, manufactured from discarded wooden
boxes, painted with the numbers, 1,
2 and 3.
The contestants preened themselves, studied themselves complacently in
the pellucid, mirror- smooth,
garden pond.
The Owl and the Cat were in
the Oak tree, the Witch and the Wizard watched
the Elves, Imps and Pixies musingly. Someday, a magical whale would
materialise, and, swallow them whole. They would pack like sardines in
its four roomy stomachs . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
back in the non-digital space,
out in our magic studio garden . . . . . .
The Faerie of the Cyclamen was
full of beans. "Her" flower had bloomed in
abundance throughout the garden.
The Faerie of the Cyclamen was
knee deep in tending and nurturing them . . . . The Elves, interested only in
trees, cars and creating havoc, were bugged by this "misplaced"
attention, met together in a Rugby
scum, (or scrummage), to hammer out a plan?!
They caracoled till midday, when the Faerie put her feet up, then, launched an all-out attack on the
flowers.
A staggering amount of damage had
been perpetrated by teatime. The flowerbeds resembled the
battle ground of Agincourt.
The Head Gardener was furious, the
undergardeners, distraught, the Ogre chased the Elves for
miles cross country . . . .
The Imps and Pixies, usually "part
of the gang," retreated to the wood, too
embarrassed to stay in the garden . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
back in the non-digital space,
out in our magic studio garden . . . . . .
The Witch bought herself a
briefcase, light fantastical. It locked automatically and, With the touch of her wand and at
the casting of a spell, t'would expand or contract, or,
flu beside her. If hooked behind her riding
blanket, the briefcase impeded her progress
through the air not one smidge of a speck . . . .
The Elves, with no need to possess
such an item, surrendered to the temptation to
steal it, somehow . . . .
An opportunity arose when the
Witch was accosted by the Ogre, anxious that she magic him to the
Sugarloaf mountain?! He had been watching the human
Olympics through the window of the dining
room, and, itched for an holiday in so
picturesque a landscape . . . .
He pleaded most pitifully, clasped
his knotted hands together and beseeched her - please . . . .
She hemmed and hawed, let her attention wander from the
briefcase, and, like greased lightening, the
Elves "lifted" the briefcase and, split the scene Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
back in the non-digital space,
out in our magic studio garden . . . . . .
The forgetful Wizard had been
stung by a bee. He howled and he roared until blue
in the face.
His friend, the Wizard, who
chaperoned him, listened to him, supervised his
schedule, could do little, so loud was his
wailing . . . .
The Witch was within coo eee
distance, and, semaphored a message, "Bring him
over here." By dint of a forceful nudge, push,
nudge, push, the swollen finger was magicked
better, the forgetful Wizard sting-free, and no word of gratitude was
heard . . . . Peter & Debbie
Just 12 days left . . . . . . . Nearly bubblewrap time. "Pop!". Love that sound. I just wish someone woud invent
programable styrofoam chips though. So you could group them, in layers
even.
To stop them running away!
Meanwhile,
in other studio chaos . . . . . .
The Mice and the one Rat had
exited the wainscot. They, and the Elves were sharing
the breakfast, taken from the enormous sideboard
in the Breakfast room. Rice Krispies, with water, fruit
and slices of melon.
The coffee had been brewed by the
Witch over her fire in the garden. The coffee beans came from Brazil, the water from the drinking
fountain, that had been installed in the
kitchen garden for the benefit of the under
gardeners . . . .
The Elves, Imps and
Pixies, unconcerned by the mess they had
made, moved next into the garden to dig
up the new potatoes. (In Augusts!?)
The hose was turned on full. Each took a shower, eighty-sixing the hose to dribble
in the "pink ribbon" flowerbed?!
The cats, the dogs, the ghostly
Wolves and Wolverines, dived through the gate, headed for
the first bus from village to town.
Flower Faeries, Wood Faeries, the
Wizard and his friend, were sewing trousers for the
Autumn or, magicking onesie loungewear for
the Wintery fridge/freezer temperatures.
The Unicorn galloped across the
woodland tree tops, drew himself to a stop, took one look . . . .
"Wunnerful.
The Faeries are too busy, will
forget to groom me, this morning."
He chomped the grass, drank, and
flew away to the East, to the Fantasy Land of the Rising
Sun, to partake of an exotic Oriental
brush and groom, polish and shine . . . . Peter & Debbie
Time to meet-up with Anne, again Like I said, she's not the studio
model. She's the wonderful counter staff
lady at the Post Office. Double-checks
every detail of my shipments.. Dependable. Reliable. Professional.
Never goes unnoticed . . . . . . .
.
Meanwhile . . . . . . in the garden,
The Hare loped apace the Elf Aston
Martin, driven by the Elfin Lewis Hamilton.
The hedges and fields flashed by
in a single change of gear. The passengers were tightly, tightly, belted in . . . .
The water splash forded, a bridge
traversed, foot on the accelerator,
accelerator on the floor?!
The Hare leapt a gate, leapt a
stream, leapt a fence. When a hedge loomed ahead, he crawled through a hole at its
base.
The Aston Martin and a motorbike
could not pass one another without slowing down to a crawl. The Elves assayed to do so . . . .
One car hit the protective wall of
the bridge, the other was later spotted, "sailing" down
the river on the topside of a log?! They did meet - a hiatus later, to
a rebellious argument as to which
team won the bottle of Fantasy
creatures' Champagne. The Witch conjured tiny glasses,
magicked from water lilies and, poured a wee drop of Champagne for
all those who asked to taste it . . . . Peter & Debbie
A grey and yellow, and veridian
green mist, had descended upon the fields, the
wood and the garden. Through the mist could be seen, The Queen Rhiannon and the Lord
Edric . . . .
Their faces aglow with happiness, they walked hand in hand, across an escarpment, and, far
below, tossed the seas of this land of
myth, legend, and truths.
A Unicorn, a Welsh pony, a swan, a
swarm of bees and wasps, buzzed all about them, above them
and at ground level . . . . Careful to keep a respectful
distance between themselves and their Lord and Lady Queen.
A great distance was covered, the landscape forever imprinted in
their memories. The weather was "Welsh," and, the waters of the streams, and
fast-flowing, narrow rivers, ran crystal-clear clean.
The fresh-water mermaids and the
River Faeries, flora and fauna moved with the
abandon of non-regimented, free spirits . . . .
As the stars and the moon took
over the skies, the Elves, Imps, and Pixies,
Witches, and Faerie guardians of the
moorland at night, awoke. The mystical, magical, Fantasy
world of the imagination, came into being . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile . . . . . . in the garden,
apres breckers this morning, a baby goat, a kid, found an hidden key to the
wine cellar someone had left around . . . .
We are minus one spare key . . . . The kid swallowed it, diddered, gave a heave and spat it out. It weighed a metric tonne in his
stomach?!
It was lost in the long grass, ridden roughshod over by the Ogre,
and, till the dawn of
Ragnarock/Doomsday will refuse to be found . . . . The Goblin and Gnome, the Weasel
and Toad, the Water Rat, the Stoat and a hotch potch of
Pixies and Imps were, playing "Catch me if you can," and Volley
ball . . . . The Faerie Flowers had beaded the
Unicorn's mane and tail with Opals and Aquamarines, his coat was sprinkled with a
rainbow-coloured glitter . . . . The Unicorn trotted, a.s.a.p, to admire himself in the garden pond. The Elves were playing water polo,
and disturbing the fish?!
The Ogre upset them when he knelt
to wash his face, and enough was enough when I
revved-up the Maserati's engine.
They appeared like a flash, jumped
up and down with fury . . . . and, surrounded the car to block
further progress. Peter & Debbie
15th " STARSHIP
MONDAY " (NEWS FROM
AROUND THE WEB) Detail of cover alternative art
for "Starship Traveller" a Fighting Fantasy book cover. Unpublished (but will be in volume
2 of Heroes & Villains > http://www.peterandrewjones.net/books/book_heroes.htm
The summer had dispersed in a
groundswell of storms . . . . The rain drummed upon the roof, the windows, and tennis courts. The residents of the garden had
transferred en bloc, to the greenhouse, the shed, and the stable/garage.
The birds of Rhiannon had taken
themselves elsewhere. The Unicorn flew south, to Table
Top mountain?!
The Ghosts and ghostly Wolves, and Wolverines howled so loud and
so mournfully, that one could hear a whisper of
these sounds of distress through the double glazed glass of
the Windows . . . .
The Gremlin and Goblin rattled the
front door handle, beat the door with sticks, till
the Cook, unable to return home, opened it and invited them
both to the kitchen for respite.
They were wrapped in baby
blankets, kept especially for themselves and
the Elves, Imps, and Pixies, and, given mugs
of hot chocolate, laced with, non-alcoholic, Fantasy
creature friendly, brandy, and plates of ginger biscuits . .
. .
A cat and dog excluding protective
shelter had become a must . . . . Peter & Debbie
14th " SURPRISING
SUNDAY " It's amazing,
who you may meet, when out drawing! Sat in the square, drinking
coffee, sketching, of all things, an idea for an owl character. And . . . . lo and behold, a
couple running a bird sanctuary, bring along - an owl!
It sat bolt upright, and still,
looking almost stuffed. And then . . . . whoooooosh,
action, wings spread wide, but restrained by a thong. Beautiful creature. Definitely worth including in a
painting!
:)
Meanwhile . . . . . .
There was, ere while, a labyrinth
in the garden. Howbeit, the height of the hedges was
trimmed lower, and lower. Today, they formed a box hedge
labyrinth for the littlest off-spring of Elves, Imps, and
Pixies.
The Witch, "(hats off to her,") when once her spells were cast, put her hand to the plow, by,
distracting their rambunctious, impolite, out-of- order, children.
The Ogre was drifting into a
heavyweight sleep. The Owl was absorbed in his
"bathing" routine. The birds of Rhiannon were resting
their voices, a trifle squawky today, having
been overused yesterday . . . . The Elves, seeking tricks to
supplement those in stock, were the Wizard, his "sidekick," the
aged, forgetful "one . . . . " The Wizard filled their heads with
wicked tricks to play - however, he omitted to inform them that, these particular tricks would
boomerang back on them . . . . Peter & Debbie
13th " A ROUGH
SATURDAY " It all starts with a scribble (I
like the word "scribble" ! )
The Cambridge Dictionary states
>
“to write or draw something
quickly or carelessly”.
But: I never do anything
"carelessly".
So I guess it is more like
"scribble-" ?
Even if, back in the day, we
called it a "rough" . . . . . . .
Meanwhile,
Outside the studio, Sitting at my desk, early and Imagining Dragons, and, writing like fury, page after
page, the "today's requested text."
T'was 5 o'clock in the morning. The Cook had arrived, so, too, had the Elves . . . . They were creeping in and out of each room in the house, altering the positions of
ornaments, shoving the lighter pieces of
furniture out of position, or knocking it over. (Quite a feat?!)
Bored with this "joke," they filed into the kitchen, sat upon the table, and, consumed in its entirety, the Fruit cake baked for "tea with my sister . . . . "
Looking out of the window, I chanced to espy the Ogre and the
Witch, headed at speed down the driveway. Following them, at a safe distance, were the Weasel, Stoat, Toad, Gnome, and Goblin.
Traipsing back at tea time, they lugged between them, a karaoke machine, ultra-expensive . . . . A "dream" machine, a one-off, a purchase to treasure.
In the quietude of the evening, as the birds nested once again, a blast of Elfin Rock torpedoed me
out of the armchair.
I gave myself time to listen, and to ascertain, from whence the row had erupted, and, "stormed the bastion" of the wood, where I gave the assembled
audience, short shrift . . . . Peter & Debbie
12th " NEWS FROM
AROUND THE WEB " Detail of cover art for "Science
Fiction: The Great Years". Edited by Frederik and
Carol Pohl,
published by Sphere Books in the UK in 1977. Painted in 1976 (publishers worked
a year ahead) and titled "Claws of Death" by the artist.
Meanwhile,
Outside the studio,
Something strange is happening . . . .
The pedigree dog visitors were
gone. A day of celebration in the garden
was declared. The Cook made a list of the foods
the various creatures wanted, prepared them with splendid results . . . . Encore!!
The "house" dogs were given a
tacit consent, to, behave as only they could, for one
whole day of this year?!
I buried my head in writing
articles, studying the what had been
requested next, and, gleaning information on the
required subject, researching it, and, finalmente, jotting down preliminary notes . . . . The Ghosts, Elves, Imps, and
Pixies, were permitted to waft or barge
around the house, just to "let their hair down."
"Kick their heels, slide down the
banisters, and drink glasses of homemade
lemonade, sitting on the stairs . . . . Peter & Debbie
11th " PIGS
& ROBOTS" " NEWS FROM
AROUND THE WEB " Detail of cover art for "The Men
from P.I.G. and R.O.B.O.T." by Harry Harrison. Puffin Books in 1978.
Meanwhile,
Outside the studio,
Something strange is happening . . . .
"Cave canem," cave canem," screeched the birds of Rhiannon. The Elves, the Imps, the Pixies, and Ogre, supposed that they were hailing the advent of the Lord Edric . . . . or, their cherished Queen, Rhiannon?!
They rushed to the vault, wherein
was rolled, the Red carpet for Royalty, dusted with fragrance of
patchouli, lavender and bluebell.
The "visitor" dogs, de facto pedigree, Black Russian Terriers, sashayed from the house, down the steps and along the red
carpet, the reception committee doffing
their caps . . . . Laughter split the sides of the
Witch and the Flower Faeries. The Ogre, realisation dawning, pulled an ear, and cracked his
knuckles.
And ?
He bent his knees, lowered his
right arm and, whipped the red carpet from under
the four paws of the pedigree, Russian Black Terriers . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
outside the studio window, The Head Gardener had placed a creature-sized movie screen in
the garden, in such wise the garden residents
could watch the "humankind" Olympic Games, should they so wish, and should they have the time . . . .
Fat chance of either?!
The Hare and the Tortoise had set
off on their daily constitutional, the Hare mindful to keep his pace
consistent with that of the Tortoise.
They circled the garden, the Kitchen garden, and orchard, resting awhile once back at the beginning.
The Ogre galumphed in their wake, eager to "get fit" before
Autumn/Winter commenced. He completed a course from the
wood to the pond, then, teeter tottered to the Oak, when his knees gave out.
He collapsed in a heap.
Slept . . . . The Elves were driving their
miniature Aston Martin and Harley Davidson motorbikes, down the empty country lanes, through the largest puddles.
Those on motorbikes returned
covered head to toe in mud.
The Flower Faeries had fore
gathered in the herb patch, to watch the butterflies and "take
the sun." As they watched the calming
spectacle, they were thunderstruck to
perceive, the advent of a curious-looking
Faerie(?) flutter into view.
A "neither this, nor that," kind
of Faerie person . . . . Peter & Debbie
9th " UPSIDE DOWN
DAY "
Never tire of seeing this (in
Shrewsbury). Gave the morning off, extra
meaning. Always nice, on a day off, to "do
things the other way 'round".
Meanwhile,
back at the magic studio garden Ghost horses traversed the
starless night sky. A shooting star blazed a momentary
trail, and faded . . . .
The Ghosts wafted and whirled on
the wind. The ghostly Werewolves and
Wolverines barked and yowled, the Owl was out hunting for
"something for supper."
The Flower Faeries sheltering in
empty mole hills, the Elves had escaped to a cave in
the hills. They had attempted to break into
the house, however . . . . The door would not budge,
not even an inch.
The Witch was in the kitchen,
scoffing Cantuccini biscuits, dipped in a mug of camomile tea. She and the Cook, though not
friends per se, understood one another and rarely
had a spat . . . . The Elves were too numerous in
number to be comfortable. The cave quickly descended into
confusion and brouhaha.
When the birds of Rhiannon were
blown, rather than flew, into the garden, they sheltered mournfully on the
branches of the Oak, willing to sing, withal no sound would have been
heard . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
out in the magic studio garden Spry as fleas in the bedsheets, the Elves shook my hand, proud possessors for ever(?) of the reward.
An enquiry as to what they would
do with the money, evinced no reply, non-verbal or verbal . . . . The Unicorn, in fine fettle, trottedout from behind a cloud, and, observe . . . . A mate beside him, a foal, and,
yeah, right, encircling the family, an
aura of pride! The Flower Faeries applauded, the Witch put a pair of binoculars
to her eyes. The Elves, Imps, and Pixies gawked, the Ogre scratched his ear. The Owl sidled sideways, gave his wings an excited flap,
and, the birds of Rhiannon crooned " My
kind of girl," . . . . a la Matt Monroe . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile,
out in the magic studio garden A hare had came to stay with the
Gremlin and Gnome. He was given the mostest
comfortable quarters, an appointment with a rabbit
masseuse and, he was booked in for a fur wash
and dry, with a top-notch fur dresser . . . .
He bounced round the garden for
exercise and, should he choose to take very
lengthy runs, he was shown the way to the fields
beyond.
He was mindful to avoid disturbing
his hosts as, his day did not begin at the
begun, or end when the electric lights
were turned on.
The Elves were excavating a minute
section of the field at the edge of the
wood. They were searching for any or
whatever buried horde of an unimaginable
financial worth . . . . Hey presto! Their quest was serendipitous.
The news was relayed to the
experts, who, came and saw, and concurred that, the find was of the utmost
historical significance.
The Elves requested that I receive
the reward, with the proviso that they, only they, were to lay
their hands on so enormous a reward. I was struck dumb by their greed
and their cheek . . . . Peter & Debbie
Meanwhile, ouside te studio . . . . The Head Gardener and his
assistants were in their workshop/lab/glasshouse, sharpening their aged hand shears, their grass mowers and scythes.
The Imps, the Pixies, the Weasel, Stoat and Toad were dosing themselves with cups of
coffee, tea, fruit juice and Vitamin C
tablets. (The Ogre was abed with a severe
case of influenza) . . . . The Witch, the Wizard, the Unicorn
and the ghostly Werewolves were
partaking of Faerie Land mineral water or acqua
vitae. The weather trended towards grey
clouds, high winds and bucketing rain?!
The Flower Faeries had tidied an
empty, mole hole, laid a Faerie- friendly ground
sheet and so, even in these
low-ceilinged, cramped quarters they were snug as bugs in a rug, sipping Strawberry tea with honey
and organic lemon fruits.
The house stood silent, waiting upon, "a moment ago"
awoken Elves, bells on their caps and a trick up
their sleeves.
The Owl and the birds of Rhiannon,
perched aloft the Oak, talked of organic cabbage versus
G.M., Governments' whims and fancies.
The conversation concluded with
sharp divided opinions, so, the birds of Rhiannon burst
instead into song . . . . Peter & Debbie
A progress shot - lots to do yet
. . . . (and hopefully I won't screw-up
when I get to adding wide black space areas . . . . )
Back in reality . . . . after a night of revelry
outside the studio,
in the magic garden,
a hangover needed to be fixed . . . .
The Flower Faeries were booked to
endure a regime of liver cleansing. T'was to commence on the morrow,
and last for 2 weeks . . . .
The Witch had promised faithfully
to oversee them by day. To magick sumptuous drinks and
concoct "no worry" potions for those Flower Faeries who lost
the plot?!
Tomorrow dawned. The Flower Faeries rose. The Witch scooped into bowls, separate portions of fruit and
almonds, from her cold store in the
house cellar.
The Unicorn was given an equine
proportion of the fruits - no almonds. Bales of hay were substituted for
the Unicorn-indigestible nuts.
A fortnight sufficed to "hit the
bullseye." The "guinea pigs" resembled Flower
Faerie Renaissance . . . . Peter & Debbie
4th " MORE
WHITE DWARVES"
Blog continuation
from yesterday
by Pedro Panhoca Brazil
Enjoy his full
blog @ http://www.peterandrewjones.net/stockist_america-do-Sul.htm White Dwarf got a
generation of writers in their offices involved in RPG
projects like Phil Masters and Marcus L. Rowland. A great part of the
magazine's
attraction was its incorporation of mini-game scenarios, which could be
completed in a single night's playing of the game, instead of the
typical game
"mega-marathon". These were often attractive and interesting tasks for
both new and existing players to solve, because they could both be
used in existing campaign installments or just for a quick play, and
were easily understood by those familiar with the RPG rules. The magazine has
always been a link for new rules and ideas,
particularly Games Workshop, as well as a means to show the evolution
of gaming, often including scenarios, campaigns, hobby news, thumbnail
photos and
tips on building maps and or adaptation of recently released thumbnails. As a provider of
cover content, Peter Andrew Jones was called on, supplying
exciting art, sourced from his "Solar Wind Picture Library", a
licensing division of his company that managed the licensing of his
copyrights, highlighting the
quality, originality and diversity that White Dwarf magazine became
prized for, and needed,
to be a main reference base for games players.
Meanwhile, on a saunter from the
studio,
away from the magic garden,
something fishy was happening!
I went down to the river to fish
this morning. The country lanes were dry and
free of traffic, pedestrian and farm vehicles. Drawing nearer the river bank, I was mortified to espy, the Elves, Imps, and Pixies had had the selfsame idea, and were wading thigh-deep in the water, clad in rain-proof jackets and whacko rubber boots . . . .
To fish was a treat, a private,
solitary pursuit - usually . . . . Today? Heaven help me!!
I settled myself downstream from
the Elves, baited the fishing line, and ran out the reel. Any fish I caught, was always put
back. 'Twas for retreat from work and
relaxant purposes only.
The Elves splashed around, chucked water in one another's
face, thus, the fish were disturbed, and
darted quick as a flash, to calmer waters . . . . Peter & Debbie
3rd " WHITE DWARVES "
Blog contribution
by Pedro Panhoca Brazil
Enjoy his full
blog @ http://www.peterandrewjones.net/stockist_america-do-Sul.htm White Dwarf was a magazine
published by the British games publisher Games Workshop, serving as
a promotions and advertising platform for their own manufactured
products
and also Citadel Miniatures. At first, covering a wide variety
of fantasy and science fiction RPGs,
and board games, in particular Advanced Dungeons & Dragons
(AD&D), RuneQuest and Traveller, the magazine underwent a major
change in style and content at the end of 1980 and became dedicated
exclusively to war games using miniatures produced by Games
Workshop, mainly the central systems of Warhammer Fantasy Battle,
Warhammer 40,000 and the Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Strategy Battle
game. Initially, Steve Jackson and Ian
Livingstone, founders of Games
Workshop produced a newsletter called The Owl and the Weasel, whose
circulation was 25 issues from February 1975 before becoming White
Dwarf. From there, it
began to offer a bi-monthly schedule and circulation
of 4000 copies each issue. The magazine
continued to talk about fantasy and science fiction
role-playing and board games, but due to the increase of available
space, began producing reviews, articles and scenarios to a greater
depth than was previously possible. The magazine was extremely
influential in the 1980s, when it helped
popularize RPGs in the UK. This included material for the three most
acclaimed RPGs of the time: AD & D, RuneQuest and Traveller. For a
time, White Dwarf also contained material for the American RPGs for
which Games Workshop had a distribution license in the UK.
Back at the studio,
out in the magic garden,
holiday plans are being discussed!
The Cook and the Elves were
transacting a business deal. Tea for them all, the whole shebang.
And, here's the rub, bad manners,
rudeness, and monkeyshine were outlawed . .
. .
The Elves told the
Pixies, who told the Imps. The Imps passed on
the "leak" to the Ogre, the
Witch and the Ghosts?!
The Cook prepared
a feast of superlative quality. The Witch adjured
her to cook three
times more supplies than she had
listed and ordered . . . . And, the Ogre, should
he glimpse the mise en scene when he woke from
his catnap.
The moon, the
stars, and, faraway, on the horizon, the townlets'
electric lights, twinkled and
sparkled.
The garden hummed
with activity, glasses clinked,
cutlery, discarded food
upon the table, the lawn, and dropped on to
laps.
Toasts were
shouted by all and sundry, Elfin coffee was
sipped. The end of the
evening brought a digestif of brandy and
organic ginger . . . .
A red letter event. Peter & Debbie
2nd " TARNIA'S
RELUCTANCE "
After I first saw her in the field amongst the Heath
Bedstraw and the straggled Poppies. I'd whipped-out my
sketch book, hoping, beyond hope, that she'd dally, long enough, for me to get a
good likeness?
To my surprise,
she stayed for awhile and so, I worked
diligently, and swiftly, time being of the
essence.
I asked her her
name.
"Tarnia", she
replied.
Where from? I
asked.
There was silence.
I felt, somehow,
she could not answer, until I had
completed more of the drawing . . . . . . .
Meanwhile, back at the studio,
out in the magic garden,
holiday plans are being discussed!
The Goblin and the
Gremlin were off on
vacation. They were to visit
Nysa, Thule
Svartalfaheimer, (Land of the Dark
Elves), Shangri-la and, Cloud Cuckoo land,
known as the "perfect city
between the clouds . . . . "
Nysa, they had
been told, by the Goblin
travel business, was where the rain
nymphs, the Hyades, raised
the god, Dionysus, guardian spirit of
the grape harvest, wine making, and
wine.
The Ogre cared
less, the Elves wished
them well. The Witch offered
them flying lessons, and the Water Rat,
Toad, and Frog, were patently
jealous?!
The Flower
Faeries' decision to travel to
Arcadia and Alfheim, was put on hold. They asked both
Goblin and Gremlin to permit them to
join their voyage of discovery . . . . Peter & Debbie
1st "
PANDEMONIUM (again)"
Can you PLEASE stop fooling around?
OK, I realise I am talking to
myself saying that. I get it. I am going mad. Next thing, you'll be telling
me Goldilocks is visiting the studio today?
Oh, what's that, Bears ! ? !
The three little Bears from the
"Goldilocks" tale, were in hock to
the Elves, for, replenishing their
supplies of honey and pig swill . . . . The Elves had by
crookery, theft. and deception, obtained enough
honey to share 'mongst the three of them. (And - retain the
lion's share for themselves, abolutively
positively . . . . The Bears
were not cognisant with these masters of thieving and
jokery, and, knew not where, in
the garden, they stashed their horde . . . . Goldilocks took
tea with the Flower Faeries and the Witch, who, gossiped upon
unrelated subjects with no intention of listening . . . . When the Ogre
complained that the racket was deafening, that, he could not rest,
let alone sleep, they spelled his
name in sunlit flowers above his outdoor bed, and, Faerie magicked
him panoptically vegged out . . . . Peter & Debbie
The Kristal is an adventure game
and action game released in 1989 for the Commodore console, later for
the Atari ST and DOS. Developed by Fissionchip Software and published
in Europe by Addictive Games and the US by Cinemaware, the game is
based on a theater play called "Kristal Konos," written in 1976. Its
authors worked with the developers of this game and was never
shown in theatres and cinemas before the game's release.
In the game, you
are a space pirate named Dancis Frake, who along with his ship, the
Golden Hind, set on a mission to recover "Kristal" on behalf of Kring
of Meltoca and return safely home. This is a magical artifact that
unites the powers of the harmony of the universe, which was,
unfortunately, hidden in a secret chamber for Malvalla, the Gru of Grus.
With the Galaxy
being the stage and Dancis Frake the protagonist, the game features a
number of different genres of classic games cast: 2D fighting,
investigative science fiction and ships that shoot their targets at
best LucasArts style for the technology of the time.
The game begins
with Dancis Frake already on Meltoca planet, a million light years away
from home. Not knowing what to do at first, there are plenty of clues
on this planet, and much information can be gleaned talking to the
various characters wandering around the park and the city.
Your character
have three attributes: skringles (intergalactic currency), strength and
mental points.
A number of items
can be found when Drake explores the places and worlds that he visits,
but you never really know what they are. The game’s manual offered a
list of what could be found in the game, depending on the player's
choices, but nothing about their utilities.
Also in 1989, the
magazine Computer Gaming World (a bimonthly magazine about video games
founded in November 1981 by Russell Sipe) gave the game a very negative
evaluation, citing poor controls for the action sequences and
repetitive questioning of other characters. The review summarised the
game by saying, "The Kristal is virtually unplayable except for
teachers who may have the time and patience for such a challenge."
Here, the cover of
the game and also in the introduction of the game see the art of Peter
Andrew Jones. Like his other artworks, they touch upon various
things (and become part of our lives too.)
30th " PANDEMONIUM "
It seemed the logical
thing to do, and we don't know
why we didn't think of it before? I mean, almost
every day, for years now, the creatures in
the wood at the back of the studio, have been coming
down into the garden, even into the
house (naughty!) and, we thought, well, everybody
deserves their fifteen minutes of fame, no?
So, we struck a deal with (most
of) them;
if we told their story,
could we, please,
get some peace ! ? !
Surreptitiously,
telling no-one, I left the house for
the garages, seized by the
desire to test out my newest purchase of a classic Ariel
Square Four motorbike.
Bowling along
country roads, the wind on my back, I felt a sense of
liberty, a freedom from
"have to's and must do's . . . . "
After lunch at a
pub, t'was return to the homestead, the Elves, Imps
and Pixies , the Ogre, Goblin
and Gremlin, the Cook, and Head Gardener.
The Elves had
taken over my office/studio. The Armagnac
bottle was half-empty, my papers askew, the jug of water
had been knocked off the desk,
jug smashed,
carpet soaked . . . .
I retired to the
Library. Peter & Debbie
28th " TALES FROM
THE WOOD "
"A series of short stories by
Deborah Susan Jones to be published as
luxury handmade books. illustrated by
> “One of the most
influential and successful fantasy artists of the modern age” (S.T. Twitter"
It's new, it's
wild, it's crazy!
And
(which is the real fun part!)
we've absolutely no idea,
and don't care,
which direction it is travelling in
(but it will be amazing when it
gets there!)
Meawhile, out in our magical studio garden . . .
The Wizard was
smoking an herbal cigar, the Witch
providing a magical ashtray. Do see the ash,
gone!
The Wizard would
have preferred an Havana cigar, i.e. Partagas - rich
and robust . . . . his all-time
"ace," number one relaxant.
He knew that the
Flower Faeries would dingie him, ignore him. Goblin, and
Gremlin, would give him the
heave ho, and the Unicorn
would breathe fire, burn the hand that
held it, and, burn the cigar to
cinders as it dropped upon
the green, juicy, grass . . . .
The Elves were
messing about in the garden shed, spraying one
another with their breakfast fruit drink of tangerine and
orange. The garden shed
they would leave, for somebody else
to clean. The precise moment
the rain turned from drizzle to downpour, they relocated to
the garden pond, diving deep to
play "Hide and Seek," 'mongst the
deep-water plants and sunken rocks.
The Unicorn,
Flower Faeries, Goblin and Gnome. took refuge within
an ancient glade, capitalising upon
an empty tree trunk for shelter . . . . Peter & Debbie
The Sword and the Sorcerer was a
1982 film release directed by Albert Pyun, starring Lee Horsley,
Richard Lynch, and Richard Moll, and produced my Marriane and Brandon
Chase of Group One Films in Los Angeles with poster art created by the
artist after a meeting with producer Brandon Chase at The Inn on The
Park hotel in London. According to an
entry on Wikipedia "Variety (magazine) gave the movie a negative
review, citing its lackluster script, non-too-talented performers, and
fast paced, "atrocity-a-minute" action scenes. Similarly, The New York
Times described it as "nonsensical" and "inept" and Roger Ebert gave it
half a star, describing it as "an Identikit movie" and one "that
doesn't care much about character". However, the film
became a classic and grossed $39,103,425 at the box office, making it
the
most profitable independent film of 1982 (so nobody much on the team
that created it really cared what the press said, including the artist!) A large visual
proposal, at the same size as the poster to be printed, was drawn by
the artist with the layout created by friend Trevor Goring (who
subsequently went on to live and work in the U.S.A. on many, many
movies) who worked with Peter as a small team they'd set up along with
ex-art school friend Peter Weston called "Smart Moves" to carry out
various creative inputs into both film and television, following
several years they'd both spent working freelance for B.B.C.
television. The "rough" was
then couriered to Los Angels whereupon it was agreed to by Brandon
Chase as a 2nd version for the European market to the original version
already created by the artist for the American market. As was
frequently the case, because such "roughs and visuals" became damaged
or lost or destroyed, the artist also created a second identical visual
so that it could be photocopied and faxed to Los Angeles if the need
arose.
Enjoy his full
blog @ http://www.peterandrewjones.net/stockist_america-do-Sul.htm "The Sword and the Sorcerer"
(never released in Brazil) is an American film directed by Albert Pyun
and starring Lee Horsley, Simon McCorkindale, Richard Lynch, and
Richard Moll, and released by Group 1 Distribution International Ltd
Organization in April 1982. It tells us the story of a mercenary,
bearer of a three-bladed-sword-projectile, which rediscovers his royal
heritage when recruited to help a princess to exterminate a brutal
tyrant, which is also a powerful wizard, and his army, which seek to
dominate the world. The film grossed
about $ 39,103,425.00, becoming the most profitable independent film in
1982. It also produced a short production line of plastic
three-bladed-sword-projectiles resembling the sword carried by Talon,
the
protagonist. Despite its commercial, there were many negative reviews
aimed at poor acting, bad script, and excessive violence and
action. The film, since
then, has become a cult classic genre and is considered
as one of the best Albert Pyun films. Action, fantasy,
dynamism and realism. Would there exist
a better artist to be the armored car
of the oster art than PAJ? Another wonderful
task accomplished by
Peter Andrew Jones.
Meanwhile,
back at the artist's studio . . . .
The Witch was
exhausted - she had done so
much, and there would
continue to be, duty upon duty,
aside of which, a
plethora of new spells to investigate . . . .
The Wizard,
himself, was at his wits' end. He had transferred
his friend to a Rest Home for Wizards, to rest and recoup
from injuries received when he rolled
down the hill. The nursing he was
given could not have been better. He relished the,
"being waited upon," and the
Faerie-made meals . . . . The Ogre was
jealous. He, too, was
partial to care and attention. As for the Elves,
the Imps, and the Pixies, they knocked about
countless ideas on extra special tricks to add to their
repertoire. The Owl sat back,
and stifled a yawn of boredom. The Elves had long
passed his line in the sand, and, this very night he
would request of the Witch, the Wizard, Gnome
and Goblin that, Fantasy security
guards be contacted, and served notice
to keep the garden cleared
of "these persons" as long each day
as was possible, with brute force,
if necessary . . . . Peter & Debbie
Enjoy his full
blog @ http://www.peterandrewjones.net/stockist_america-do-Sul.htm Warlock Magazine was a British
quarterly magazine published by Penguin Books and Games Workshop (GW
acquired the magazine from edition number 6) which lasted from 1984 to
1986. The main focus of
the magazine was the fantasy gamebooks of Advanced Fighting Fantasy (in
Brazil, the famous "Aventuras Fantásticas", the favorite one of the
fans talking about gamebooks), acting as a more current version of the
acclaimed RPG magazine White Dwarf. It had,
unfortunately, only a circulation of 13 editions. In Japan, the
magazine started as a translation of the original magazines until it
expanded and became a general RPG magazine, surviving until March 1992
under the name ウ ォ ー ロ ッ ク (Warlock, in Japanese). Even tough the
magazine had been launched in the UK, Australia, Canada and New
Zealand, it struggled to succeed located outside the UK. Some of its
editors were: Marc Gascoigne, Paul Mason, Ian Livingstone and Steve
Jackson (these last two were its editors-in-chiefs). Originally
sub-edited by Tony Lacey and Philippa Dickinson, the magazine gained a
lot of potential when Marc Gascoigne joined the publication after its
transfer from Penguin Books to Games Workshop. The 13th edition
was, unfortunately, the last edition in printed format, got a new life
in a new guise in 2016, as a fanzine (now called Fighting Fantazine,
maintaining its essence). Its contents covered basically
advertisements, drawings, literary contests, interviews, world maps of
the games, books, unpublished mini-adventures or abbreviated versions
of the gamebooks with alternative visual arts, bestiary of monsters
(becoming the basis for the future Out of the Pit) and miniatures. Number 2 had cover
art by Peter Andrew Jones. As attractive as the books, we are enticed
by this most hypnotic visual challenge, where, we do not know for sure,
and what in? But why not try?
Retour au studio
rênes "normalité" -
dans notre jardin de studio de musique . . . .
A flock of ducks
passed overhead, squawking fire
engine style .
. . . The Flower Faeries
spilt their tea, the Ogre bellowed,
shook his fists?!
The Elves, the
Imps, and Pixies, joked and laughed, raised their fruit
juice glasses, "Na Zdravi!"
The Witch was
presently astride, the Unicorn, riding bareback, ricocheting across
the skies.
A telepathic
message had come through to her, "Make haste. Make
haste. The doolally
Wizard has lost his footing and fallen from the
hill path, down the rocky hillside .
. . ."
She sped forth on
her steed, telescope to one eye. T'was impossible
to distinguish the elderly Wizard .
. . . With a whoop of
joy, the Witch caught
sight of a huddled figure lying prone where
tumbled rock became grass.
The Unicorn put
down beside, the recumbent Wizard, the Witch
slithered to the ground, knelt and taking his wrist, felt for a pulse,
lifted an eyelid .
. . . The Wizard ouched,
and groaned, as she carried out
a magical First Aid, helped restore him to a
standing position and assist him to mount. A ticklish task,
hard on the back .
. . . Mission complete,
the Unicorn sped home. The garden Wizard
sighed deeply when the story was told. His dear friend
really must not be left on his own .
. . .
Torna in studio
"Normalità" redini - nel nostro giardino music studio. . .
The Dragon, the
Ogre, the Goblin, and the Gnome,
were taking a siesta, their faces
protected from the sun by Panama hats.
The Flower Faeries
were decked out in Faerie high
fashion, their accessories
beaded armbands of the healing
stone, Turquoise.
The Witch,
perspiring copiously, was stirring an
improvised recipe for a wine containing
berries, apples, and lemon, alcohol-free.
T'would be chilled
in the ice house, recently built in
a too-small section of the
stable/garage . . . . The Elves, Imps
and Pixies would be told that it was
Absinthe Vodka?!
The Ogre,
alcohol-intolerant, but obstinate, would be offered
strawberry, raspberry, and lemongrass
cordial.
The Witch, the
Wizard, and their guest, the forgetful
Wizard/Magician, must concede to
their guest's choice of Dom Perignon .
. . .
Peter & Debbie
23rd " A PLEIN AIR
FANTASY "
I saw her in the field amongst the Heath
Bedstraw and the straggled Poppies. I whipped-out my
sketch book, hoping, beyond hope, that she'd dally, long enough, for me to get a
good likeness . . . .
Back at the studio "normality" reins -
. . . . out in our magic studio garden .
.
.
The Witch and the
Wizard had discussed, and agreed, that a
day or so without Elves would be a
ginormous relief . . . .
The Wizard lured
the Elves to the their cricket
ground, constructed and
landscaped by a Goblin architect and an exemplary
Umpire at all the cricket matches between the Imps,
the Gnomes, and the disreputable Elves.
The Elves
sauntered off to ruin the match. (His words . . . . )
The Witch and
Wizard magicked a low wall, topped with shards
of glass and, anti-Elf barbed wire . . . .
When the cricket
match was over, the Elves stayed to tea.
Finding their way
into the garden they discovered it had been
covered with barbed wire . . . . what happened? No entrance?!
Poppycock.
Such a deed was to
them the equivalent of shaking a red rag
in the face of a splenetic bull . . . .
Peter & Debbie
22nd " GOOD-TO-GO
FRIDAY "
Going to be away from the studio
for a few days (En Plein Air) so will try to
catch-up next week on stuff.
Meanwhile - for
starters - this is an "experimental post".
I invite my page followers to check-out this FB group > https://www.facebook.com/groups/1748306105416741/
it's new and, well, it is self explanatory - and this is a shared-post
experiment, to see if a "somewhat large" file can appear here on my
page and also on the group page . . . . . (might be too big a file
since the Simulacra game page has had issues trying it - anyway, here
goes!)
I travel to
Australia at the end of August, to visit
publishers in Melbourne and Perth . . . . Keeping this
information under wraps has not been
sufficient, as I understand
from conversations overheard . . . . amongst the
residents of the garden(?)
Their knowledge of
my future movements, is beyond my
comprehension. T'is a question I
shall seek an answer to, from the garden
Witch and her Wizard mentor.
In this torpid
July weather, the garden was
unusually quiet. The Flower Faeries
were anxious about the health
of "their" flower, bush, or tree. Their day was
spent flitting about the garden, armed with Faerie
watering cans and plant protection sprays.
The Elves, Imps,
and Pixies, the Gnome and Goblin, were not to be
trusted - hook, line, and sinker . . . ."
Peter & Debbie
21st " BLACK TIGER
THURSDAY"
Posting a
(background) detail here (of newly archived image) because people
rarely get to see close-ups of original paintings http://www.peterandrewjones-legendary-art-magazine.net For prints of any
picture you can just ask for any you want . . . . . they are "all
available" on request.
There has been a
lapse of several days since the previous
Blog. The Festival was
pure nostalgia, wrapped up in
boisterous fun . . . .
Each fantasy
creature was turned out in
evening dress, and, the Faeries of the
woodland, together with the
Witches of the wood, arrived
absolutely, on the dot . . . .
This morning, between the hours
of 3 and 4 a. m., I chanced to need
a drink. Whey hey!! The Elves, the
Imps, and Pixies, were sitting on
the stairs, drinking Elfin
lemonade through straws and, sucking
eye-crossing, monster
gob-stoppers?!
These trick or
treat, inclined to cheat,
residents of the garden, were told to, "get
ye gone!”.
The garden was
undergoing an extensive "spring clean," in preparation for
a sort of Fantasy Festival . . . .
For the first time
in the history of this house and
garden, as many children
as wanted to, from books, verse,
and Faerie tales, were expected to
attend a, sort of, celebration of
much-loved stories . . . .
The Ogre was to
wear his smartest suit, the Flower Faeries
were having recherche dresses
made. The birds of
Rhiannon would, "come as they were," and nobody had the
slightest idea what the Elves, Imps, and Pixies
would chose . . . .
It was supposed
that the Gnome and the Goblin would, at least,
wear clean shirts?! Every garden
resident hoped that the heat would, by then, be less
intense . . . .
Peter & Debbie
19th " BLACK TIGER TUESDAY"
Just added this to
the available prints page > (posted a detail
here, because people
rarely get to see close-ups of original paintings) http://www.peterandrewjones.net/prints-SF.htm but, actually, you
can just ask for whatever picture you want . . . . . they are "all
available" on
request.
Hotter than Hawaii? No wind, no
rain . . . . The Toad and the
Water Rat had, retreated to the
wood.
The Mole had dug
his Mole Hole home, more deeply than
deep.
The Faeries of the
wood, were dressed in bathing
suits of gossamer. The Flower Faeries
in shorts and T-shirts of petals and
chiffon.
The Witch had
turned on the garden hose, and was showering,
fully clothed. The Ogre drank
copious amounts of cold water.
The Unicorn, short
tarriance in the garden over, was high in the
heavens, beyond cloud, wind, bad weather . . . . winging his way
north, to the Isles of Scotland.
The sun poked its
face through the early morning mists, and, the Wizard
forecasting, in his megatone voice, that, this
afternoon would bring rain, high winds, and
increased humidity?!
I, myself, would
lock my attic studio door, and sit down to
write, send e-mails to
friends, both personal and
those of importance, related to work.
Wow!!! . . . .
Peter & Debbie
18th " DIGITAL
MONDAY "
If you've
subscribed via the website > http://www.peterandrewjones-legendary-art-magazine.net to the _digital_
edition . . . . . it's "on it's way"
for the weekend
! (probably Friday,
so keep your
eyes peeled for incoming e-mail).
The Church bells
reverberated through the Ogre's
ding dong head. Nobody, 'xept the
Water Rat, Toad, and Frog, heard the tinker's
cuss he shouted . . . . When his head had
cleared and his ears readjusted, he stretched out,
yawned Ogre-ishly,
stuffed his ears with Faerie
cotton-wool and Oak leaves, beat the lawn with
angry fists, slept the sleep of
a Sloth.
The Flower
Faeries, the Unicorn, (tiny jewels
sprinkled into mane and tail), played Faerie Land
Monopoly - the Faerie of the
Roses, won!
(The Witch had
magicked a spell, by which, Flower Faerie
followed Flower Faerie as winner, full
stop . . . . )
Peter & Debbie
. . . .
17th " BLACK TIGER SUNDAY"
Just added this to
the available prints page > (posted a detail
here, because people
rarely get to see close-ups of original paintings) http://www.peterandrewjones.net/prints-SF.htm but, actually, you
can just ask for whatever picture you want . . . . . they are "all
available" on
request.
The garden Dragon
had landed with a singular aplomb. He folded his
wings and drank copious amounts of water, near about
draining the pond . . . .
The fish sank to
the very bottom, hid where they could, the visiting fresh
water Mermaid called for transport back to the pond
in the wood.
The Ogre, irked by
the Dragon's greed, bopped it lightly
on the head, and trod, not quite so
lightly, on its tail. The Dragon
breathed fire and blew smoke in its eyes.
Touche, they both
wheezed, the Dragon in
gobbledygook, and the Dragon bit
the Ogre, who, socked him fair
and square on the nose. Their, sort of,
fistycuff match, then ended, and they both, lay
down on the grass and went to sleep.
The Elves, Imps
and Pixies, turned the garden hose on, doused both Dragon
and Ogre, and, disappeared right
quick . . . .
The water reeds,
water lilies, the fish, and the tortoise, the turtle and the
Elves were rollicking in luxury - crystal-clear pond
water . . . .
The Head Gardener
and his assistants had moved on, to the kitchen
garden, where they enriched the soil, weeded, and
transplanted, those vegetables
too crowded together to allow a healthy
growth, or to ensure that
each plant was full-flavoured.
The Elves and the
Pixies, the Imps, Gnome and Goblin
were practising Tai Chi, in the Elfin, fast-moving, more
aggressive mode.
The Witch, the
Wizard, the Unicorn and Ghosts, took their
session, slowly and rhythmically, to the music of
the wind and faint rustle of leaves . . . .
The Flower Faeries
plunked mandolins, or blew on magical
flutes. The birds of
Rhiannon sang, "June is bustin
out all over?!"
The Owl fell
asleep, the Ogre was
breakfasting, relishing the
taste of vegetarian bacon, duck eggs, and,
homemade by the Wood Faeries, cinnamon toast . .
. .
The Witch slipped
away to light a fire, fill her cauldron, boil the water and
stir in the mix of her spell potions for this
morning's expedition . . . .
The Highwayman's
blunderbuss had been snaffled by the Rag Doll
Faerie.
She was uncertain
as to how she could hold up the
Highwayman, however, she aimed
for his
three-cornered hat, pulled the trigger.
Silence. . . . The Highwayman
positioned his horse beside her, leaned down, and,
vraiment, t'was a cinch to
take ownership of the blunderbuss, once more.
He laughed, and
shouted. . . . "There ain't
nothing worth a jot on your plain little
face!" The Rag Doll
Faerie simpered, and raised a hand to
her lips, blew him a kiss -
The Rag Doll
Faerie had moved into an attic room. She was
disconsolate because, the Flower Faeries
would not accept a Rag Doll Faerie
and ostracised her, and refused to
have anything at all to do with her. . . .
She had the
antipathetic habit of smoking, a poor decision,
since she could so easily set
herself alight?! This morning she
was playfully conversing with the Mouse,
the Spider, and a long-legged Dragonfly. They were arguing
animatedly about the Fantasy
creatures' economy, which was run along the
lines of, "let us see what is needed, and find ways and
means to achieve it. . . .
When the cats
showed up at the door to the attic room, they were somehow
or another, transported by magic, to the top of a
wardrobe, slippery, not
climb able by these, to-be-avoided
felines. . . .
From this sale
haven, they aimed paper pellets at
these antipathetic beings, who ignored them
at first, nonetheless having
finally to remove themselves to their safe
haven - the kitchen. . . .
Time to meet-up with Anne. No, she's not the studio model. She's the wonderful counter staff
lady at the Post Office. Always so attentive, observing
every detail of the shipment. Never a hitch. Reliable.
The Elves, the Imps, and the
Goblin and Gnome, the Flower
Faeries, and the Witch were jellied in
aspic about owning a pony. . . .
The Witch assumed
her, "mellifluous" voice, forcing me, by a prod in the
ribs with her "do it now," nails, to find my mobile
phone, dial the, (correct), number, and, make an
appointment to inspect the "Stables Horse and
Pony Collection. . . . "
A.s.a.p
An appointment was
agreed, the curtains
opened, and, the Prologue
commenced upon, "How a Welsh
Mountain pony erased my role of Lord of the
Manor."
The ghostly
Wolves, Werewolves, and Wolverines, grinned, I am sure? Their teeth, green
and yellow, were clamped tight
together, bared, under
snarling jaws. . . .
The overweeningly
supercilious, lords, the Ghosts, extricated their
multifarious, unreliable, pistols, aimed, and fired. . . .
The Ghostly
Wolves, Werewolves and Wolverines, untouched though
they were, stampeded like
fraidicats. . . .
I had given my
niece a Welsh Mountain pony. She has given it a
Celtic name, Tudur. . . . . For a short space
of time, the pony was here, and, the Elves, Imps,
and Pixies went completely bananas, convinced it had
been bought for them - Amen. . . . . ?! The Welsh Mountain
pony, looked to the
hills, lowered its gaze,
and, stiffened into
rigidity - a pillar of
salt . . . .a wax work(?) The day after the
day after, a horse box drove
in, and from the rear of
the vehicle, a vet leapt out. The Welsh Mountain
pony thawed, a shudder went
through him. He bucked and he
weaved, "sunny side up. . . . . " A couple of grooms
fought to steady him, to slip blinkers
over his eyes. My niece came
through the stable yard at a run, wrenched off the
blinkers, and with tenderness,
smoothed the sweat from his brow. A short session of
horse whispering later, the Welsh Mountain
pony and my niece were firm friends. . . . .
Peter & Debbie
11th " BUBBLE WRAP (still)
MONDAY "
This month's newsletter. http://www.peterandrewjones.net/lists.htm Yet more multiple wrappings with
plastic bubbles on a sheet. Wonderful invention - and it makes
a lovely noise. (especially when you accidentally
tread on it!).
The Wizard was
showing a Troll the garden. The stoat, the
Weasel, and the Mole were paying
their respects to colleagues,
who, today, would be awarded the, "Freedom of the
Garden," medal . . . .
The ceremony was
to take place in the wood, and attended by
all the fantasy creatures, the Witches, and the Flower
Faeries, and the Faeries of the Wood. It had not been
divulged as to who would preside as "The Trustee of
the medal awards . . . . "
The Queen of the
Faeries had yet replied to her invitation. Neither had Queen
of the Wood, or their off-spring.
The Wizard had
been briefed to persuade one or the other
of the ladies to do the honours, and, together with
the Troll, who, (as numero uno
knave and premier garden rogue), was well-versed in
eye-contact, persuasive
platitudes and expressions of anxious concern.
At the midday
hour, when the garden was tranquil, they met with both
the Queen of the Garden and the Queen of
the Wood, affecting a lively concern and disquietude.
The moment of
triumph "popped," when, by adroit
skill and cunning, those expressions
of regret and sadness, won the day . . .
. Replies of
affirmation arrived - but, which lady to
choose? . . . . Peter & Debbie
The Imps were
churlish, the Pixies, derisive, the Witch stirred
her cauldron. The Flower Faeries
performed Faerie
mini-ballets on a magical rope.
They were light,
they possessed wings, they were quick
off the mark. The Elves, they
could handle? Brush that
negative aside . . . .
The Ogre sat up,
burped, and, rose to his feet. Having head butted
the Ogre, the Elves, Imps, and Pixies, butted the Witch,
who, as luck would have
it, was holding her
broom with both hands, and did not go
headlong. . . . The Head Gardener,
his assistants, the Unicorn, and
the Stoat, threw a mega
fishing net deftly, trapping the
rapscalions. . . . End of the play. . . . . Peter & Debbie
The Elves were in
lugubrious mood. Their previous
"doings," had gone down - like a
lead balloon . . . .
The Imps and the
Pixies were ignoring them, the Flower
Faeries, wary of their every move.
The Gnome and the
Goblin, the Witch, and the Ghosts, were in a huddle
conferring secretly upon the probable
punishment.
The Cook had
arrived beforehand this morning, intent upon
organising an extra-large number of staff, for, this evening the
Queen of the Faeries was expected, to open a new
business venture; run by those
residents who were interested.
A magical Fantasy
Organisation, set up, without my
knowledge, to provide a
garden produce, export outlet . . . . Senior staff had
been chosen, future
"employees," interviewed. 'Twas only "after
the event," that the Head Gardener
had been informed . . . . Peter & Debbie
8th " TALES FROM
THE WOOD FRIDAY "
Out in our magic studio garden, the freshwater Mermaid watches
keenly with her friend the Frog, as . . .
.
Catapulted off the
Elfin spring board, by a diffy daffy Jester Elf, the Goblin, the
Gnome, and the Water Rat, hung for a moment in
mid-air, then, belly-flopped into
the pond, arms and legs flailing . . . . kersplash!?
The Mole, the
Weasel, the Witch, and the Wizard, threw them a life-buoy
to hang on to, and a rope each, with which they
could be drawn to the bank.
(They were
seemingly not bail out-able . . . . )
The birds of
Rhiannon, under the guidance of the
Owl, took their beaks to the
rescue. The half-drowned
Goblin, Water Rat, and the Mole were
given resuscitation, and
First Aid. And, the Witch
brewed chamomile tea,
and, gave each a cup of tea, and a glass of
blueberry wine.
To keep them warm
- and to dry them, they were covered
in a blanket of leaves, a thick Faerie
duvet, and given waterproof pillows to cushion their
heads . . . .
The Elves, bored
to the marrow, wanting the next
thing to do, fetched hula hoops
and an Elfin trampoline, performed
acrobatic feats, and laughed till
they dropped . . . . Peter & Debbie
7th " TALES FROM
THE WOOD THURSDAY "
Out in our magic studio garden, the freshwater Mermaid watches
keenly with her friend the Frog, as . . .
.
The Flower Faeries
were staging a one-day strike, to give themselves
respite from Elves, Imps, and Pixies.
They had flown at
break of day, to a Faerie Land
Spa, to be massaged,
pampered, and suitably
exercised.
The Unicorn was
winging his way to Montgomery, in Wales, as transport for
the Elite of the Elfin Spy
department . . . . The Elves, the
Imps, and the Pixies, the Goblin, Gnome,
and Witch, were with the Owl,
in the wood
chopping bark from the trees to, write letters of
recommendation, for a woodland Faerie, who pined
for "a place in the sun . . . . " Peter & Debbie
Spinning along
country roads driving my sister's Aston Martin, I discovered
several things about my beliefs about how to handle
motor cars lacked a certain 'something' - indeed, were
counter- productive?!
Slowing down to
negotiate an unexpected water splash, and steep hill, I
came face to face with a stony-faced dragon Its colouring
blended with both tarmac and hedgerows. Its eyes were
malevolent, it's teeth green and yellow. Orange flames and
grey smoke spewed forth from its mouth.
For a minute or
two I was completed blinded, unable to discern
other than the block in my path. To slam on the
brakes would have been counterproductive . . . . Materialising from
nowhere, an Ogre appeared, armed with a cosh,
with which he dealt him a blow. The dragon's
eyeballs spun like a top, it roared in pain,
the fire went out, and, !!! my car was picked
up and deposited on the other side
of the recumbent dragon . . . . Peter & Debbie
The scraping sound
of furniture being dragged across attic floor boards came through my
bedroom ceiling, and sent a shock down my spine . . . .
Woken so forcibly,
my immediate reaction was, to take the attic
stairs in one leap, and remonstrate, to issue a dire
warning?!
Casting caution
aside, I did exactly that.
An open door
revealed Elves, Imps, and Pixies, moving the
furniture into different positions. Even in groups,
this was proving some feat . . . .
A thunderous
whisper sufficed to halt the pother. I slammed the
door to - and, locked them inside. By and by, I
reconsidered, went back to the
attic room for a recce.
The Elves were
drumming the floor with their heels. The Imps were
strumming virtual guitars. In contrast, the
Pixies were climbing the wall, suffering from
claustrophobia, and a stiffening
of their joints.
There was a word
to describe it, but, too "choice" to
utter . . . . Peter & Debbie
The Faerie with
the heart shaped face, wore a pink rose
in her hair. Her eyes, long
lashed, were wide with wonderment, for on one finger
perched a butterfly.
She waited
wistfully for the garden Faeries, to whom she was a
distant relative.
The Ogre intrigued
her, the Elves, Imps, and Pixies? They, she
eschewed, as not quite, quite nice . . . . A breeze rippled
through the garden, the Willow tree
stirred. Looking over her
shoulder, her eyes grew
still rounder. The rainbow
Unicorn had alighted, the garden Witch
upon his back.
Dismounting, the
Witch approached the "stranger," Faerie, offered to
let her stand beside her cauldron - to warm
her hands, stop the
shivering, and, have a peep at the
spells bubbling forth.
The Faerie was
cheered by this unexpected invitation. Together, they lit
a fire under the cauldron, the Witch fetched
her spell book, wand, and conical hat. The Ghosts, the
Goblin, and his friend, the Gnome,
eventually turned up, lay down upon the
grass, and, whistled the music
of, "Pie in the sky . . . . " Peter & Debbie
Cover "The Warlock of Firetop Mountain", "samurai sword" cover, etc.
Peter Andrew Jones of the site From London. 1951 born. About 30
years old when he drew the cover
illustration of "The Warlock of Firetop Mountain". Already this time,
but it seems was in a certain position in the field of fantasy
illustrations, in the hit "The Warlock of Firetop Mountain", now its
name is known around the world.
The wind in the
trees and the wheat in the meadow. The Witch walked
beside me, her cat on one shoulder, firm hand on her
thumb stick.
The Ghosts,
ghostly Wolves, Wolverines, and Weasel, were spread out
behind us . . . . The country lane
was jammed full?!
The birds of
Rhiannon, the Owl, and Ogre, were drowsing in
the shade of the Oak.
The Flower
Faeries, themselves wore swimming suits, fashioned with
elegance, style . . . . Tres chic!
They had offered
to fan their friends with wide, Indian fans, had
been pleaded with to begin asap.
Whence we went?
Don't recall?! Once back in the
garden, the Flower Faeries laid out, a picnic of
picnics - food for the gods, drinks of the
taste of magic - unheard of
wonderful . . . . Peter & Debbie
A twenty four
carat tour de force, was the role-play
game. Should it have
ended in a draw, the consequences
would have been dire . . . .
The garden Witch
stood beside the Weasel, the Wizard beside
the Mole, adjudicating
guarantors of good/behaviour and, consummate
peace/keepers.
The Ogre, the
rook, the crow, and a starling
stood to attention, awaiting an order
to relax and stand down. Instituted as a
protective shield and - sworn in by the
Wizard. Was this an
inauguration of stern leadership,
and, for the
contestants? "Pull up your
socks," take losing
politely, take it on the
chin . . . . Peter & Debbie
I had my
first contact with Peter Andrew Jones artworks through my teacher
Pedro. I've always been a fan of art, so I was curious to know
his masterpieces.
The first artworks
I´ve saw were more geared to science fiction. From them I was
already entranced, it was a way of representing the space and
unusual alien creatures (not that pretty commercial thing), they
were more raw, no intended to humanize the not-human. This
differential perspective was what more fascinated me in the
artworks of Peter. They were original artworks without commercial
concerns that reflected the author's view about space. The artworks
acclimated in the Middle Ages (which are not many, unfortunately)
are as sensational as the others. Personally, I am a fan of any
kind of medieval thing, so my attention already “grew” to such
works. But as I said,
unfortunately I did not find many, and I would like to see more
works of this style (who knows I can get it now with “Simulacra”…) The “negative”
point in the artworks is the fact that the author is British,
which makes it extremely expensive any attempt to purchase for us
residents of this beloved lovely country named Brazil, as
everything costs five times more for us (1 pound = 5 reais).
But nothing prevents us from joining a money to buy the art. Also everything
Peter is an extremely helpful person without stardom. He answers
to anyone (including in Portuguese with the help of a
translator, if you do not know English) the way that every artist
should be. A humble, visionary and extremely talented person.
Those were the impressions I had in contact with Peter and his art.
Everyone should know it.
The Frog, the
Toad, and the Water Rat,
were resting, having just
completed 50 lengths of the pond . . . .
(A daily event,
should the Elves be otherwise engaged.
Their chief
delight in life being to spoil anybody
else's fun).
A sense of
self-satisfaction pervaded the three, the Flower Faeries
were ecstatic, the
Witch showered them in
magical disinfectant?!
The Witch was
spinning yarn to be woven into
cloth. 'Twas cream, and
apricot, stipled with Lapis
Lazuli . . . .
The spinning
whirred, the Witch was
bewitched(?!) The Elves were
"come hithered," the Frog, Toad and
Water Rat gawped . . . . The Unicorn was
absent, the Elder Elf, his
perspective projection
distorted, did a "Cinderella," and, extended a feeble
hand, pricked his
finger, and, swooned . . . . Peter & Debbie
Plus > Here's a
contribution by
Pedro Silva, Game creator >
Por mais que
variem os mundos, cenários e personagens das narrativas fantásticas, há
algo sempre em comum para nós leitores: pensamos em como seríamos se
estivéssemos no lugar do protagonista, do herói, daquele que triunfa no
final. Como um apreciador
dos livros-jogos, um herói que me marcou foi o Lobo Solitário. A série,
que leva o nome do protagonista, é composta de 29 obras (apenas 04
traduzidas para o português, fato que já comentei numa postagem
anterior) escrita por Joe Dever. Iniciada em 1984, vendeu milhões de
cópias no mundo e ainda hoje lança edições de luxo e de colecionador. A história é
focada num mundo chamado Magnamund, onde forças do bem e do mal lutam
para o controle sobre tudo. O protagonista é um jovem guerreiro e
aventureiro apenas conhecido como “Lobo Solitário”, o último da
dinastia dos Senhores Kai, poderosos monges guerreiros.
Se um livro de aventuras já é algo hipnotizador quando é bom, imagina
quando VOCÊ é o próprio protagonista! O espírito dos livros-jogos e a
linguagem apelativa, dialogando diretamente com o leitor, faz-nos
sentir que realmente estamos dentro de Magnamund. Uma das muitas
edições possui várias artes de capa de Peter Andrew Jones, dando o
justo tratamento que as obras merecem ter: criar uma fantasia poderosa
que atraia o leitor para a sua missão, como se uma profecia o chamasse
para iniciar a leitura/aventura. Nunca se sentiu
parte de uma real fantasia? Seja a principal figura aqui, jovem leitor,
e veja se consegue parar na primeira leitura. Pedro.
<>
-------------- <>
In the vast array
of worlds, scenarios and characters of fantastic stories, there is
always something in common for us readers: think about how we would be
if we were in the place of the protagonist, the hero, that one who
triumphs in the end.
As an enjoyer of gamebooks, a hero who struck me was Lone Wolf. The
series, which takes the protagonist's name, was made up of 29 issues
(only 4 translated to Portuguese, a fact that I have mentioned in a
previous post) written by Joe Dever. Initiated in 1984, it sold
millions of copies worldwide and today launches luxury editions and
collector´s edition too. The story focuses
on a world called Magnamund where the good and evil forces fight for
control over everything. The protagonist is a young warrior and
adventurer known only as "Lone Wolf," the last of the dynasty of the
Kai Lords, powerful warrior monks. If a book of
adventure is something hypnotic when it is good, imagine when YOU are
the protagonist himself! The spirit of the gamebooks and appealing
language, talking directly to the reader, makes us feel that we are
really in Magnamund. One of the many issues have cover art by Peter
Andrew Jones, giving fair treatment that the works deserve: create a
powerful fantasy that entices the reader to its mission, as a prophecy
callinghim to start the adventure/reading. Never felt part of
a real fantasy, buddy? Be the main man here, young reader, and see if
you can give up at the first reading.
The Burnt Siena
Elfin sandpit, the garden pond,
and the old Oak tree, were hosts to a Flower
Faerie Convention, concerning
protection of those "homes"
sacred to Ghosts, Fantasy creatures,
and Witches.
The Witches' day
for attendance was tomorrow - the Unicorn and
their broomsticks willing.
The Elves had
unfolded the deckchair seating, together with a
trick or treat. They wouldn't be
stingy, they chose one
trick for this seat, a treat for that,
and so on and so on
until the last one.
(Wizards were not
invited, neither were the Ghosts).
The birds of
Rhiannon would sing, accompanied by a
band, the Pixies on
drums, the Flower Faeries on violins. Pixies and Flower
Faeries practised in the Library, if I was in the
attic, in the withdrawing
room, if I occupied the
attic . . . . My invitation to
speechify had already been accepted. 'Twas in the hands
of the gods, from now on in . . . . Peter & Debbie
29th " EXPERIMENTAL
WEDNESDAY "
Very early days,
but . . . . .
WORKING
ON NEW PROJECT - Facebook page here designing, discussing,
re-designing, crafting, re-crafting . . . . . . . . Does it, doesn't it, will it,
won't it, can it, should it ?
All part of the
fun of figuring out "how to make it work best".
Contribution by
Pedro Silva, Game creator >
Em seu prefácio
intitulado “Para além da simples compreensão”, segundo Walter
Schurian, “...deve ser referido que o Fantástico está presente em
quase toda a arte e em quase todos os períodos da arte, ainda que em
doses variadas e com diversos e as exageradas proporções de certas
partes do corpo, os animais selvagens representados nas pinturas em
grutas com 30 000 anos de idade, impressionam os espectadores de hoje
como sobrenaturais ou alienígenas, por outras palavras, fantásticas,
qualquer que tenha sido o significado mítico ou de culto que possam ter
tido. Os híbridos, metade humanos metade animais da arte do Antigo
Egipto, também surgem como Fantásticas, como sucede com os fetiches
grotescos e totens medonhos de muitas criaturas ´primitivas´”. Peter Andrew
Jones, como podemos ver, magnificamente mantém um legado milenar,
dando-lhe precisos toques reais e futuristas também. Um expoente e
tanto da Fantasy Art.
Pedro <>
-------------- <>
In his preface
entitled "Beyond the simple understanding," according to Walter
Schurian, "... it should be noted that the Fantastic is present in
almost all the art and in almost all periods of art, albeit in varying
doses and different and the exaggerated proportions of certain parts of
the body, the wild animals depicted in the paintings in caves, 30 000
years old, impress today's viewers as supernatural or alien, in other
words, fantastic, whatever has been the mythical meaning or worship
that may have had. Hybrid, half human half animal art of Ancient Egypt,
also appear as Fantastic, as with the grotesque fetishes and grisly
totems of many 'primitive' creatures." Peter Andrew
Jones, as we see, magnificently maintained an ancient legacy, giving
you accurate real and futuristic touches too.
The Ogre
crash-landed atop the head gardener's
prize rose bush, and squashed it flat . . . . Once again on his
feet, he took pains to
right it - with little success.
The under
gardeners took one look, and wilted. "Distract him,"
said one. "Get him out of
here," said another. "What's of the
utmost importance, is to do what we
can for the prize rose bush . . . ."
The Flower
Faeries, ever-eager to lend
a hand, spent several
hours, (invisibly), doing what they
could.
In an
acknowledgment of the fact that the Elves
would make matters worse, cast a "flower"
spell which restored the rose bush to
its original glory.
For how long? Peter & Debbie
28th " THE CREATIVE
ENCLAVE "
Well, no, it
doesn't, actually, look quite like this, but . . . . . http://www.peterandrewjones-legendary-art-magazine.net there's a lot to be said for
having somewhere to hide and paint undisturbed (except by sheep and
butterflies) . . . . . . .
The Flower Faeries
had woken too early, completed their
tasks, achieved their
objective, which was to, spend the day with
the Unicorn, voyaging right up
to the stars . . . . Truth to tell,
however, they were feeling
a trifle knocked out? . . . . The Witch was too
preoccupied turning flagstones
into pebbles, to pay heed to the
scenario unfolding in the garden.
'Twas the erudite,
but forgetful, Wizard friend of
"our" Wizard, who upset the
apple cart and caused chaos and mayhem . . . .
He wandered into
the garden, deeply absorbed in a book, his eyes glued to
the page, which he'd already read four times . . . .
Unaware that the
Elves had dug a hole in the lawn, filled it full of
water, and were hidden
from view, awaiting a victim, no matter who, he
put a foot in the hole, and went head over
heels?!
The Flower Faeries
sped like whirlwinds to his aid, bound up his
sprained ankle, and soothed his hurt pride.
Word was sent to
the doctor, who arrived
liketty split, dealt with the
patient, and prescribed
warm and cold compresses, arnica, and a
Wizard's week in bed . . . . Peter & Debbie
The Elves were
blowing washing-up liquid bubbles, the Pixies and
Imps firing peas from pea shooters, to pop those
escapee bubbles which had caught a
current of wind.
The "Elder" Imp,
of ram rod back, and knobbly knees, polished his
bi-focals, stuck them back in a pocket, and chuckled . . .
. leaned on his
thumb stick with both hands. Waited.
Lots were cast
decision made. The Elves, Pixies,
and Imps would practice, following this
competition, Archery, Fencing,
and Sky diving from tip top the Oak.
The Owl
condescended to give the space. The Flower Faeries
giggled and whispered. The Unicorn was
gone to pick up the Witch, from where she'd
been staying, with a covern of
witches residing in hillside caverns . . . . The cook threw
left-over scraps of food on a heap of
"ripening" compost, shut the door of
the kitchen hoping and praying, that,
the Elves didn't spoil this day . . . . Peter & Debbie
26th " TALES FROM
THE WOOD "
Saw this
freshwater Mermaid out back this morning.
Managed to do a
quick En Plein Air session before it swam away . . . .
The Elfin gazebo
sprung a leak. The Elf sitting
underneath it was rewarded with a
water-saturated costume . . . .
Expounding upon
the theme of his talk with
the Ogre, he made it clear
that the Ogre was not
predisposed, to assist the
Witch and the Flower Faeries to lug a hamper of
food, to, their private
river creek "mound."
The Unicorn woke
the Ogre with a light touch
of hoof on tummy. The Witch
chortled, shook his hand,
then explained, that she would
have aught more to do with him, 'scept to, dangle
temptations in front of his eyes, 'til he kowtows,
For now, the game
is still under construction and evolving to better suit everyone. This is a card
game based on the Arthurian cycle of myths and legends . Having the
best artist in the world and the knowledge that I have acquired over
more than 20 years of card games, collecting hundreds of them , knowing
dozens of them, and playing against the best players (and with the
right people), it has everything to work well. Please, feel free
to comment, give opinions and contribute because "The game lives only
if it is played by players", right? Soon I'll post
some links to inform those who want to know a little more about its
history and production process. I thank you all in
advance."
Pedro.
<>
-------------- <>
Portuguese (Brazil)
"Boa noite pessoal, Por enquanto, o
jogo ainda está em construção e constante mudança, para melhor atender
a todos. Trata-se de um
card game baseado no ciclo arturiano de mitos e lendas. Tendo o melhor
artista do mundo e os conhecimentos que adquiri ao longo de mais de 20
anos de card games, colecionando dezenas, conhecendo dúzias e jogando
alguns dos melhores com as pessoas certas, ele tem tudo para dar certo. Sintam-se livres
para comentar, opinar e contribuir, pois (desculpem-me a redundância!)
"o jogo só vive se for jogado por jogadores", certo? Em breve deixarei
alguns links para ambientar aqueles que quiserem conhecendo aos poucos
um pouco mais de sua história e processo produtivo. Agradeço a todos
desde já".
The Goblin and
Gnome had come up trumps. They had
encountered a Sea Imp, from over the
hills. Prior to him
arriving to stay in the Fantasy
garden, furnished with ghosts, they would journey to the
land of his birth, for a holiday of
holidays laid on by himself . . . .
The journey
required feet of leather, legs of steel, and the stamina of
an ox. Neither Goblin nor
Gnome were softies, inclined to be
lazy.
They persevered
for an Elf day - usually less than
14 human hours all told, sat down to rest,
and nibble Faerie cakes, a snap of the
fingers later, they were both asleep.
During their kip,
the storm clouds gathered. The wind rose, the
skies darkened. A clap of thunder
woke them up.
Each ran for cover
under a mound of rocks, huddled in the
semi-darkness, until the sound of
deep breathing startled them.
Turning, they
perceived, a Unicorn and Witch, who glared at them
fiercely, as if to say, "Go away!" The Goblin sniffed
scornfully, the Gnome belched,
both of the same mind . . . . The Witch would
get the same reaction wherever she went, the Unicorn? Selfishly solitary. Both resolved
without hesitation, friend or no
friend, to return home to
the garden, to behaviours they
understood . . . . Peter & Debbie
24th " POST-EN-PLEIN
AIR FRIDAY "
Yesterday's en plein air
afternoon session ended. The visitor to the studio
garden drew close, ordered a beer, introduced his
small companion.
After all that, he was a lot less
scary than I'd imagined!
An antlered Wizard carrying torque
and snake dragon, garbed in Medieval-style robe, bedecked with sun and moon
earrings, was come to consult with with our
own garden Wizard.
The Witch, at her fire, adding up the day's spells still to send, offered them cotoneaster wine and a choice of fruit teas.
The Flower Faeries, their set-in-stone early morning duties done, joined the Unicorn on a cloud and, grey though they were, the hidden sun shone above them, thus, they sunbathed, whilst the Unicorn rested.
The Wizards, words spent, sipped mint cordial, and, exchanged wit and brain-teaser
conundrums to.
The Owl returned late to his home
in the Oak tree. The Elves, dressed in crimson(?) were gone to an audience with the
Elf King.
Together, they dined on sweet
meats, washed down with ginger wine, sang Elfin ditties, and, puffed on Elfin cheroots.
'Twas an audience ne'er forgotten, imprinted till doomsday upon a page of their "memories"
album . . . . Peter & Debbie
23rd " POST-EN-PLEIN
AIR THURSDAY " Yesterday's en plein air
afternoon session taken further . . . . . As the visitor to the studio
garden came nearer, I got a better view.
He seemed a little less scary as
he approached . . . . . . .
The Elves, Imps,
and Pixies had curried favour with a Witch, guardian of fibre
broadband, who, kindhearted, donated a router
to them . . . .
The Wizard was apt
to sneer at any so-called, "icons"
of the day. The title of his
long-winded University treatise? A monologue
entitled, "A limitless nonsense," which acted upon
the University undergraduates as an efficacious
sedative . . . .
His Wizard friend
on the hill, concentration
nada, had, in the good old days, listened dutifully
to
the intro. Thereafter, by
Jupiter, his obligations ended?!
He and the garden
Wizard were daggers drawn. The garden Wizard
took the high road, his friend took the low.
The Dragon, the
Gnome, the Ghosts, and the Goblin stood
behind the
garden Wizard.
The Elves backed
his dozy friend, the Ogre, no-one knew, and the Flower
Faeries stood shoulder to shoulder with both?!
This "virtual"
duel persisted until the forgetful Wizard misrecollected the
rationale of the ruction - returning to the
garden, to have discourse
with his implacable
friend . . . .
Peter & Debbie
22nd " POST-EN-PLEIN
AIR WEDNESDAY " Output of yesterday's en plein air
afternoon session . . . . . Record of visitor to the studio
garden. Cernunnos. The Great Horned God. Consort of the
Goddess, symbol of male energy, lord of the our wood.
The Unicorn had
been on a gallop up-country. His legs, belly,
and flanks were mud-splattered. Mane and tail were
a tangle of leaves, grass, and twigs. He had misjudged
an hedgerow, and landed in a ditch.
He cantered back
to "his" garden, crest-fallen,
dejected.
The Flower Faeries
were catawampus, the Witch,
dismissive.
She was feeling
well-pleased having doctored
the dogs' feed, to keep them out
of mischief - they'd sleep for
twenty-four hours?!
The Ogre was
elated, (his sister was
visiting), and had brought him,
most tactfully, an extra-large
bottle of 1811 Chateau d' Yquem . . . .
The Unicorn hosed
down, the Flower Faeries
humming, the birds of
Rhiannon whistling. Was this early
morning "tip top of the world?"
The Elves weren't
convinced and set about
unsettling the Ghosts and ghostly
Werewolves with a myriad of tricks - first stop . . . . they blew the
Witch's spells in the opposite direction, threw loglets of
wood, armfuls of coal, all over the
lounge, the dining room
and study.
Pre-breakfast was
spent sipping brandy and water . . . .
Peter & Debbie
21st " EN-PLEIN AIR
TUESDAY " It's tough at the top. I don't know how I cope. Italian beer. Cappucino. Wi Fi. Cuban cigars. Sunshine.
Sunlight and
flowers, pond and water
lilies. An ode to Spring -
to the Spring/Summer
Solstice.
The Elves, Pixies,
Imps and, Flower Faeries
were celebrating the sunlit
morning, the Solstice, of being spirits
Fantastical, of myth, legend
and Fantasy . . . .
The Unicorn had,
of late, decamped to the
planets Mars and Venus. Momentarily, he
was on top of the world, guest of a Prince of the
Inter-galactic Unicorns of the Void . . . .
The Witch was in
clover. Her spells for
today, had been wrapped
in cloth of gold and magenta, entrusted to the
wind currents, with a "send off adieu . . . ."
Peter & Debbie
20th " CCG MONDAY "
By Pedro Panhoca Da Silva contributing guest editor (Brazil). Battlecards was a card game (CCG
= collectible card game) released in the same year
as the imposing Magic: The Gathering, and lasted from 1993 to 1994. There were a variety of cards
including profiles of artists (including Peter Andrew Jones) missions,
tactics, advanced game rules, checklists, spells and shields, but the
most important were the Fighters.
The Ogre had
committed a heinous faux pas. He had trodden on
the tail of the young, garden Dragon?!
The recumbent
dragon savagely wrenched aside his tail, causing the Ogre to trip
and fall, cracking his head hard
against the trunk of the Oak . . . .
The Ghosts
scattered, the ghostly Werewolves yowled, and the Elves, woken
sharply, leapt from their beds. This, the scene
was set for a "bad" day in the garden, courtesy of these
same Elves . . . .
The Flower Faeries
settled an agitated Unicorn, groomed it, and fed it an apple
and a carrot. The Witch burnt
both hands on the cauldron, screeched, and, ruined the first
spell on her list for the day?!
The Pixies and
Imps, the Gnome and the Goblin, scaled the Oak
tree to calm a scandalised Owl
. . . .
The
Wizard/Magician was, to put it bluntly, "All of a lather," late for an
audience with the High Wizard,
Wizard Alfonso.
He carried a wand,
which he used as a whip. His Palomino/Pinto
gathered momentum 'til, brought up sharp
by the Red, the Green, and White Dragons.
They hissed, blew
smoke, ground their
long-legged teeth. Pummeled the
Wizard/Magician with the tips of
their tails . . . . (Let's pretend).
The Flower Faeries
and the Witch were warming hands
and toes. Their swim in the
garden pond had resulted, regretfully, in the shivers and
shakes, and, "must wash my
hair," thoughts . . . .
The Witch, her
wand, a brew of Cybernaut tea - and a spell, and,
the Faeries' clothes, make-up,
demeanour, t'were portraits
that spoke a million times
more than words . . . .
Peter & Debbie
18th " SECRET SATURDAY
"
What are the origins of the Welsh
dragon? http://www.peterandrewjones-legendary-art-magazine.net Why were there thousands of
Faeries on the Isle of Mona (Anglesey) in Roman times? Find out, in this quarter's
edition - out now.
The Owl and the cats were
conversing, upon what had
occurred last night.
The Owl had been
shooting around the wood, in search of
delectable, full- flavoured prey. The cats had been
unnecessarily catching mice, teasing them
without pity, without remorse . . . .
The Elves, Imps
and Pixies, ever ready to
upset the Cook, had raided the
larder and left not a crumb?! Not even a raw egg
to cook for my breakfast.
Today, these
trick, no treat, "likely lads," would spend on
their bottoms, catching fish,
sleeping, or plaguing me to
teach them to drive. In what size of
vehicle?
The Weasel, the
Dragon, and a Willo the Whisp, were sheltering
under the shade of the Oak. At three o'clock
in the morning, Boy! the heat . .
. . ?!
The Flower Faeries
were resting, and drinking
Camomile tea from Faerie goblets. The Ogre lay half
in, half out of the garden shed.
The Imps had
constructed, over the pond, a high diving board, to practise their
experimental, and multi-movement,
dives?!
The Witch was
conducting a Pilates class. Fast-paced and
tricky, the participants,
moaned, groaned and sweated, reaching for
bottled water whenever they could . . . .
Not caring a jot, the Witch waved
her wand, tapping the
allegorising rhythm with her magical broom stick.
The Unicorn
snorted, whinnied, and neighed, a signal, straight
out, to abandon the class - desert
the sinking ship . . . . ?!
The Faerie Queen's
ancestry stretched back, back, and back. Originating in
Ireland, in the grounds of Blarney Castle.
By a stroke of
misfortune, her great, great
grandmother had been, caught in a
tempest and blown over the Irish Sea . . . .
By a stroke of
good fortune, she had found herself here, a much-loved new
home, which "filled the bill,"
as it were!
The Queen was not
kind, ungenerous, and overbearing. Her "subjects"
looked forward to the day when, possibly?
Probably . . . . she came a cropper
. . . . ?!
Peter & Debbie
15th " WEBBY
WEDNESDAY"
Blogs, from around the web . . . .
. . . 70s Sci-Fi Art June 12 at 8:20pm Pages from Peter Andrew Jones’
Solar Wind, via http://ift.tt/1Uuidi8
The Witch was
seated in a deckchair, reading her book
of magic spells. The cat, a mouse,
the Mole and Water Rat were reclining on
a ground sheet.
The Weasel, deep
absorbed in reading, "Tales of the
Riverbank," lay by himself, a
distance off.
This grey, wet
early morning, I'd been summoned
by the Elves, to partake of
homemade chocolates - Faerie chocolates,
no less . . . .
Before breakfast?
Rudely wakened? I declined,
returned to bed.
The Elves,
meanwhile, went upstairs, broke into my
attic studio. Without a sound,
they smashed my glass, the Brandy bottle,
the jug of water, left a stained,
and smelly carpet, and all my papers
crumpled up . . . . ?!
I felt
wholeheartedly grateful that the finished
articles were already with my agent.
The Elves, full of
chocolate, gave the Cook a
reprieve. Went instead into
the garden, and from there to the garage. Here, with the
lipstick they had stolen from my sister, they covered my
car - windscreen, Windows, tires,
and doors, with Elfin
drawings of funny faces . . . .
The crows were
going berserkers. Was it just a lot
of noise? Or, had one of their kind
been evicted from another
bird's rightful nest?
The Elves clashed
their cymbals, the Imps, their
drums. The Ogre, wakened
so rudely, bellowed in
frustration?!
The Cook shot out
of the kitchen, waving a rolling, The dogs followed
her, barking exuberantly. The ghostly
Werewolves and Wolverines yowled soundlessly, the Flower Faeries
took flight, on the unusually
wind blown and matted, Unicorn . . . .
A can of paint
stood beside the front door, a paintbrush, a
rag, and pot of water beside it.
The cats, always
partial to a turn in the shower, sniffed each item,
and dipped their noses in the water.
The dogs lapped it
up, the Elves, having
breakfasted with the Cook and the
housekeeper, were feeling
enthusiastic, perky, and ready for
trick or treat. They filled the
empty can with paint, dipped the rag
into the paint, and, stumbled the
walls, door, and stair
carpet in splendiforously
garish symbols and Elfin designs
. . . .
The cascade of
spells, the mellifluous
singing of the birds of
Rhiannon . . . . Empty milk churns
to collect - by Robots, these
days?!
Purring low above
the fields, skip, skipping
bridges . . . . A drone. No! two - were headed this a
way.
They were playing
"catch me up," with the Elves,
Pixies, and Imps. The Flower Faeries
got to ride them. (They were
smoother running than the Unicorn).
The Witch was
racing her way 'cross country, to find the black
sheep, left alone in a field. She would, "cross
my heart, promise," to magic five
more, and a "bonus," shepherd?!
The Elves, once
done with the drone, organised a game
of Elfin field hockey, riding on the
backs of the ghosts - and, ghostly
Werewolves.
The Wolverines
sulked, scratched their noses and, "appropriated" the
Kookaburra hockey ball. Thus, the Elfin
hockey match did not resume until, the breakfast gong
boomed for the magical garden creatures . . . .
The Mermaid and
fresh-water Sea Horse had been
celebrating their homecoming, after a lazily quiet
vacation in Lake Bala, their fave hideaway, situated as it
was, in breathtaking
Fairy Land scenery .
. . . . The Queen of the
Wood Faeries had been
holidaying with her retinue, in a
mountain-perch chalet overlooking Lake Bala.
Each morning, Her
Majesty, could be sighted
behind curtains in her sedan, borne by four,
powerful strong Bodyguards.
A storm had
arisen, this gelidly wet
week of summer. During the course
of one outing the Queen's sedan
had slid from their capable
hands, shaking her
complacent, arrogant self.
The approach of an
Ogre was a relief and consolation. Lifting the chair
with consummate skill, the Ogre bore its
passenger to a luxurious Faerie tearoom, where she was
shown into a private parlour to rest and recoup .
. . . .
My "sis" had
arrived with a roar and a
clatter. Scared my horse,
the Elves, and the fit to be
tied, Cook!
The Elves would
"test out" the Aston Martin, notwithstanding, the rest of the
household must hold its breath, waiting for the
inevitable "sister/Elf showdown . . . .
Before lunch the
Ogre had cut himself badly, banging on the
kitchen door for instant attention. The Gnome and the
Goblin sent word to the Elf
doctor. "Unable to visit,"
came back the reply.
A non-medical
replacement, the Cook, had bandaged him
up.
The Weasel, the
Water Rat, and the busy,
busy, Flower Faeries. The Unicorn, the
Mermaid, Imps, Pixies and
tortoise, took flight to the
wood. The Witch went,
too.
Emptied of the
fantastical fantasy creatures, the garden felt
deserted, woebegone, abandoned,
rejected . . . .
Peter & Debbie
9th " THURSDAY
"
Sometimes, but
rarely, uploads don't happen, despoite what it may say . . . Workload! :)
The
Faerie of the Ivy was relieved, and pleasantly surprised, When she saw that the Ivy was undergoing a "hair cut . . . ."
She had reached the point of
frazzledness, of bleary outta gas?!
The Elves were nagging me, to allow them to "help the
gardeners out,"
Allow them to cut reams of Ivy? Ten refusals eventually got
through. The Mermaid chose to swim in the
garden pond. She needed conversation, company, companionship, a friend.
The Witches of the wood adjacent, met together round "her" pond; to magick a "water spring-clean,"
and the too-dense reeds.
The Flower Faeries groomed, His Majesty, the Unicorn. The Dragon the birds of Rhiannon, were singing in the Oak.
The Ogre puttered in and out of
the tennis courts, the greenhouse, and the garden
shed. Out of ideas, amusing himself, or, engrossed in finding somewhere
warm to sleep? (As per usual) . . . . Zero! Peter & Debbie
8th " WEDNESDAY
"
Sometimes, but
rarely, uploads don't happen, despoite what it may say . . . Workload! :)
The Red Dragon,
the Green Dragon, and the White
Dragon, were talking moonshine . . . . when a coconut
landed fair and square upon the Green
Dragon's head?!
Concussed,
whomped, he lurched thither and, yon, from his nostrils
blew clouds of smoke, from his mouth
flames of fire . . . .
The Elves, for
'twas they who had thrown the coconut, added insult to
injury - and, doused him with
cold water?!
Peter & Debbie
7th " TUESDAY
"
Sometimes, but
rarely, uploads don't happen, despoite what it may say . . . Workload! :)
Feathers were
raining down on the lawn. Two crows and a
robin were disputing a
left-over nest. The robin,
victorious . . . .
Ad interim . . . . The prize he had
won had been spirited
away by the Elves, Imps and Pixies, the Goblin and
Gnome. Why so many
"light" hands? T'was this and
this, that?!
Should the Ogre
blow in, there'd be a
superabundance of ideas "up their sleeves
- Hooray!!
The Flower Faeries
were dressed in early Summer
garb, their hair cropped
in a Faerie 1920's style . . . .
The Unicorn grazed, ghostly Werewolves
and Wolverines, scrutinised the
Ogre and snapped venomously when'er he stomped too
near.
His place of sleep, seized by other,
more wicked, creatures, the Ogre departed, climbed over the
garden style, and, discovered an
appropriately "exclusive," place of rest . .
. .
The Faerie of the
Ivy was up to neck, cutting and
pruning the sheets of Ivy
on the house. In utmost
frustration - (the task was too
great) - she called in the
Flower Faeries, the Faeries of the
wood and, the Faeries of
fields, meadows and trees, to help her.
The garden was
humming with virtuous intent, aside from the
Witch, who, Spell book to hand, could have found
the perfect answer to magick
it away . . . .
(Instead, she
merely merely stood aside and looked on).
This grey, wet
Spring morning, she got her
comeuppance. Her spells would
not work, and, the Ogre blundered
into the cauldron, burnt his feet in
the fire, bruised both his
knees, and, end of spells . .
. .
The Imps, the
Elves, and the Flower
Faeries, the Witch and
Unicorn, were on the
"almost" of setting off on an
exploration of the flat, rocky,
grasslands.
The weather was
superlative, the temperature
just right. The mud paths to
be avoided, the stoney ones,
passable . . . .
The Unicorn
refused to negotiate any such thing as
a "lift." He might well
chose to take off without
explanation or forewarning.
The Witch magicked
broomsticks that flew. The Exploration
Expedition was ready for the
road . . . .
The Witch took
with her, a wand - just in
case. The Ogre came
along to ensure the day wouldn't
go by without some sort of
trouble . . . .
The oldest Elf was
taking Fish oil soft gels. His arthritic hip
a source of ever on-going hip
. . . .
The younger Elves
got together, went to the Witch, and demanded she magicked an
elegant thumb stick for him.
This, she agreed
to - the "Elder" Elf
being a friend.
The
Wizard/Magician had posed her a mathematical
problem . . . . though he knew
that she had skived off education at at
the school she'd been sent to.
She pondered long
and hard to figure out an
answer, then, "pennies from
heaven," the answer came to
her! The answer - 49, (The answer to
everything).
Chuffed with
herself, she extracted a magic
mirror, preened herself,
wrote it down and, lit a fire under
the cauldron.
The Unicorn was a
friend, the Elves were not. The Ogre was a
daily chore to put up with, the Witch, OK. The Owl they knew
vaguely. The Goblin and
Gnome? Some days
bearable. some days - a pain?!
The Fox and the
Mole glared at each
other. The Mole turned
his back. Began to dig . . .
. The earth flew
every which way, hit the Fox in his
face. He "stripped off
his gloves" and a fisticuffs
match ensued.
As is usual in a
Fantasy Land, no-one lost,
no-one won. They exchanged
apologies, "shook hands," and
chatted about . . . . zilch?!
The Owl, one of
the cats, the wren, a crow - and the Owl were
conversing together upon the state of
the world. (A pre-breakfast
discussion to off-load, their despair) . .
. .
A vampire bat had
visited last night, to be driven from
the garden, tout suite by our
own resident horde.
In the church
rafters, the crypt and the belfry, they hung upside
down. Like the Ogre,
they slept the sleep of the
innocent.
The Elves had
cleaned out the the pantry, the
larder, a store room. They had shown
some compassion for the cook. A dish or three
had, believe it or not, been left untouched . . . . !
Break of day found
her compiling two
lists, after which, and demanding that she
be driven to the market in my sister's
precious, Aston Martin Lagonda . . . .
To the light of
the moon, with its
background of stars, a ghost held her
hand out . . . . Her eyes sought
the presence of another ghost
standing waiting for her in the deep
shadows cast by the ancient Oak. The "someone" she
awaited, was late tonight .
. . .
The Owl hooted. The Goblins, the
Gnomes, the Elves were shut up
together in the garden shed. Their "music" was
fiddly, didelly, their
concentration had got lost in the post . . . . The Ogre erupted
from the wood in splenetic temper, having T'd off the
Witch, with his illimitable questions.
The Flower Faeries
sipped fresh green leaf tea. They put down
their cups and lit a fire. Laid a heap of
towels beside it, and flew to the pond.
The Ogre, whose
sense of direction was nil, splashed through
the mud that surrounded it, and tripped . . . . Catapulted, head
first, and took in a mouthful of water. Sank to the
bottom, bounced, his long, massive,
legs mired in the mud . . . .
The Faeries, the
Witch, the Unicorn, Elves, Imps and
Pixies extracted him, rubbed him down,
and, gave him a hot
face flannel to wipe his muddy
face.
He laid his head
against the Oak tree, went to sleep . .
. . Peter & Debbie
Darkness prevailed
at 4.40am this morning. The birds were
twittering the today's news to each other.
From the wood came
the Elves, Imps and Pixies
absent, gone riding the
hills on their magical motorcycles . . . . The Witch had one
of the garden taps turned on, to fill her
cauldron - the Ogre standing
by. His eyes dropped.
His head nodded.
The cauldron
transplanted from tap to
blazing fire, the Ogre lay down,
and, forthwith, was, 'dead to the
world . . . .' Peter & Debbie
The Witch had
glazed her cauldron in blue and yellow
acryoil, and the scent of the
spell potion was bitter-sweet to
the nose . . . .
Ghostly Werewolves
and Wolverines, washed themselves
down, before leaping over the
garden fence, intent upon
causing the uttermost consternation to the local
neighbourhood. Each door was
barred and bolted, bar none...?!
As ghosts they
could pass through any door - no sweat . . . .
To the Unicorn, what was lacking .
. . . ? A rainbow to dance
along.
Clouds were fun
and dandy, a rainbow, euphoria?! Tonight, he would
compromise, and jump over the moon?!
The Elves, and the
Pixies had let themselves into the tennis courts
and were engaged in competing as to which of them
could blow the biggest bubble . . . .
(The Witch had
provided the necessary concoction).
The Flower Faeries
were attending to the garden
plants and flowers, doing what they
could to ameliorate the damage that the downpours
of rain had dealt them.
A soaking wet lawn
and earth become mud. A pond overflowing? The head gardener
stayed at home . . . .
The night just
gone had brought a plethora of
irksomenessese, the Elves having
set up a casino in the kitchen?!
The Witch had
magicked tables, chairs and Elfin
cigarillos, the Flower Faeries
decided to provide a
catering service. Such was their
excitement at the "perfect"
casino set-up, they had played
cards until dawn.
When he arrived on
the scene, much earlier than
he'd have chosen, the Ogre was
overcome, even outside, by the noxious
odour of cheroots and cigarillos. He coughed and he
wheezed, he sneezed fit to bust, Exhausted, he
slept for the entire day. He is still out for the count
. . . .
The Gnome and the Goblin, absent-minded and
forgetful, practiced everyday
of a Fantasy World year, on their
accordions and banjos. Lately, they had
added a mandolin and fiddle . . . . The cuckoo, the
lark, the nightingale and the Owl - (the birds of
Rhiannon, if they were visiting), sang all the
genres of music, from the Medieval
Monks' chants, to the current chart
best sellers . . . .
Today began bleak,
with a mist and
ground frost. The Elves. Imps
and Pixies emerged shivering, with their lack of
sleep and chill.
With an
unmerited thoughtfulness and sympathy for
her, much disliked, Elf neighbours, the Witch lit an
extra-large fire to warm them, and dosed each one
with her 'keep colds away,'
medicine . . . . Flower Faeries in
attendance to ensure that they
drank it . . . .
The Red Dragon of
England, and the White
Dragon of Wales, a green dragon,
and a blue, white and red
dragon, were pursuing
their way 'cross country, to a Dragon Summer
School. There, to learn what it
was to be 'cool . . . .'
The birds of
Rhiannon had taken over the Oak tree, the Ash tree and
the laurel bush, tennis courts. Indeed, the entire
garden - excluding the pond . . . .
The Owl was away
for a year and two months, visiting
relatives, "somewhere in Asia?!" (His wisdom was
sorely missed).
The cats, the
Mouse, the Ogre, Gnome and Goblin, were, sailing kites in
the field adjacent to the garden. Flower Faeries,
Unicorn, Imps, Pixies, and Witch, were, singing in
unison the song track, "Can you see me,"
(Jimi Hendrix) . . . .
The Faerie of the grasslands and
prairies, came from over the
oceans and over the seas, to visit with her
friends over here - in my garden, no
less . . . .
She danced upon
the water, danced upon the
clouds. Over sky-high
waves, she clung on to
either dolphin or porpoise . . . . Octopi, sharks,
other fish and sea creatures, provided respite
or chit chat or pointed the way.
By instinct, she
found the way - river. stream, or
waterfall to the Land of
Myth & Legend and tales of Fantasy . . . .
Flying in the high
winds and thunderstorm that she met, proved much too
hazardous. She hid in a
hillside cave and waited.
(The same remedy
to apply, she found, when she encountered
the Elves!)
The Witch and the
Flower Faeries, took her here, there and round
abouts. Reposing in the
garden, she learned
straightaway, that, for her, even one this big,
was too small . .
.
In and around our
magic studio garden
the echoes of past resonate loudly
in a land steeped in enchantment . .
. .
Centered In the
coils of the dragon, Where Arthur trod,
the artist paints. And where Merlin
still weeps, the writer writes, in a land of Myth
& Legend. ”
All around our
magic studio garden
the echoes of past chaos and strife still reverberate from . .
. .
When Merlin, Now entombed in a
cave A-top Caer Caradoc
Hill. Set forth to find A ”Future King”.
To command a
following And stand firm
against foreign invasion until the fall of
Arthur on The Field of
Camlan: mortally wounded
in error by nephew Mordred or perhaps by
Morgana's treachery . . ."
So it is we paint,
and write, and recall . . . . In an Land of Myth
& Legend.
Peter & Debbie
14th " SECRET SATURDAY
" More assemblages coming !
The secret project is brewing.
Secret. (at least for now).
(Keep watching . . . . .)
But things are not so secret,
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The Unicorn would allow rides for the tiny
young' uns. Bad behaviour
guaranteed you'd be dumped on
the spot.
The 'one and only
Witch, (her belief, her
description), would carry a list
of spells, from which you'd
choose one.
(On Jamboree day,
8 spells max.).
The Wizard, should
he prevail upon himself to attend, wished to take
charge of, "Hunt the
Thimble," and selling candy
floss and toffee apples.
The Ghosts chose
to manage the food, drink, and "flake
out," tent. The Elves would
supervise a Pea Shooting match. For the "not
keen," brigade, perhaps, "Pass the Parcel"?
As the Owl looked
on, he sensed the
first stirrings of a desire to be included . . . . He could invite
his various Owl friends. The "others" would
then meet a number of
different 'Owl' species.
The Birds of
Rhiannon, already had at their claw tips, a repertoire of
'easy listening,' songs. Replacement Plan 2
or Plan 3 should cover any
'this is boring'
reaction? . . . .
Peter & Debbie
13th " SECRET
FRIDAY " Further assemblage. What will this potential project
with another party be? Guess! Meanwhile = Secret! (But keep watching . . . . .)
But -
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The littlest
Faerie, Petunia Patience, was having a ball. She was riding
soft, wet, raindrops balanced on tip
toe . . . .
Rhiannon's song
birds had not yet arrived. The Ogre was
bedridden with a howling
cold?!
The Gnome, the
Goblin, the Ghosts and the
Spectres, had taken
possession of the "constructed with
Elves in mind," tennis court.
Even at this early
hour of the morning, they were knocking
about a mini, mini, minute
tennis ball
The ghostly Wolves
and Wolverines were having a wash
before waking the
Elves with their near soundless barks. The pantry, the
kitchen and larder, were still
plentifully stocked, the Elves
preoccupied with other plans. The Flower Faeries
were bathing in the pond before, grooming the
Unicorn and preparing hot Faerie gruel for the Ogre . . .
.
Peter & Debbie
12th " SECRET THURSDAY "
Assemblage.
Discussing future potential
project with other party.
Shhhhh!
Secret.
(But keep watching . . . . .)
But -
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The Flower Faeries were having a
"Beauty Day," presently
luxuriating in an immaculate pedicure, to be followed by
a manicure, then a back massage . . . .
The Elves, ever
intrusive, sidled closer and closer to see how 'twas
done and make irrelevant suggestions.
The Unicorn was
looking bonnie, feeling full of beans, and of good cheer
. . . . He was waiting for
the Witch to finish packing a bag with a
choice of magic spells.
The Mermaid was
singing, the Water Rat swimming, the Gnome and
Goblin were discussing when to go cycling.
When the gardener
appeared, the scenario altered, the Elves put on
gum boots and collected hoes, shovels and forks. The gardener
ignored them, which was not to their liking, so, they set about
nullifying every little bit of yesterday's hard work . . . .
Peter & Debbie
11th " IN THE WOOD WEDNESDAY "
They were beginning to appear more
frequently.
I was lulled into beginning to
think it' nice.
Perhaps we could negotiate with
them?
I thought. Perhaps I could even draw them?
Even write about them? Maybe, we could even invite them
to
participate in a project?
Maybe . . . . . . (I thought).
But -
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
I have been
left note. By my fantastical
garden "friends" (well, I thought
they were!).
It says . . . "We have gone on
strike".
Pardon?
Something's going on . . . . .
Peter & Debbie
10th " SECRET TUESDAY "
I don't mean to be critical.
I'm not really.
I kind of like them.
It provides a distraction.
In a hectic studio day . . . !
Meanwhile
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The wild Lord EDRIC, in his agony, was pacing
agitatedly up and down, up and down, along
a corridor. His thoughts were
centred upon the "how, why,
wherefore," of starting an
argument, declaring war, on any foe, (and
he had many), against whom he
chose to have an argument?! He duly chose his
victim, whose response was
just the thing . . . . The battle which
followed was vicious, nasty. The wild Lord
EDRIC was satisfied . . . . but - the name of Godda,
his erstwhile wife, continued to prey
upon his mind . . . . Poor EDRIC?!
Peter & Debbie
9th " SECRET MONDAY "
Butter wouldn't melt.
You think?
Not evil.
No.
But definitely, certainly,
ineluctably . . .
Naughty!
Meanwhile
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
Tacit compliance was all that was asked of them. A gob stopping abuse was what you got . . . .
The Goblin and Gnome were in a provocative gear. They had groomed the Unicorn before the Flower Faeries stirred.
The Unicorn, bless him, rolled in the mud, kicking his legs, as if to say - "What you chose to do is one thing. OK. Even so - What I chose to do (?)
Wait and see . . . !"
The Wizard, the Owl, and the birds of Rhiannon, practiced an innovative rendition of "Heart in her Eyes."
On the far horizon of memory, thoughts rose like the sun. An extraordinarily ordinary childhood and (soon over) teens. The fantasy world of the
garden. The "gilt-edged" residents Never, never, never, in my wildest dreams, could I have visualised, or imagined, the mysterious, magical, hidden Faerie land I lived within . . . .
Peter & Debbie
8th " SECRET SUNDAY "
Yes, they ARE coming . . . . .
(really).
OK, say they don't exist (if you
must)..
But we know they're there, (we've
seen them).
We've seen them,
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The littlest Faeries,
knee high to a grasshopper, were happy as clams at high water,
or, happy as clams at high tide . . . . This was the day that Haphazard,
the weird Wizard, came by . . . .
He wore clothes of leather, goose
feathers, and leaves, designed and hand sewn by the
"ultimate" Witch seamstress.
The tall, pointed, hats, that he favoured, were fashioned of tree bark and twigs, each was lined in satin and every
one of them, waterproofed.
(An aside). The magic spells he cast, with no
exception, were always a mishmash of maybe
and sort of . . . . Their outcomes were never, ever,
predictable?!
The Witch's friend and
co-conspirator, try though he did, failed to achieve a satisfactory
explanation . . . . Gee whiz.
Peter & Debbie
7th " SECRET SATURDAY "
They're coming . . . . .
Watch your step.
You can never be sure, what
they're up to!
Meanwhile
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The Standing stone was now in
place, within the wood, beside the pond.
The Ogre, strutting round the pond, deliberately trod upon it . . . . The Standing stone vanished
beneath the mud.
The Ogre, a look of smug complacency
writ large upon every
facial feature, settled himself upon the mud and withdrew to the land of nod . . . .
The Flower Faeries teeny bopped up and down his legs and
feet. The Goblin - and the Gnome
tweaked his nose and pulled his ears. The Unicorn chomped his way
through a breakfast of grass and baby carrots, preferring to remain, ever the
non-participant.
By and by, the noisy breathing, the clouds of smokey exhalation, precipitated a mass evacuation, to the Witch's place of residence for a primrose wine and chestnut breakfast . . . .
Peter & Debbie
6th " PRINTED FRIDAY "
NEW Limited Edition Print release. http://www.peterandrewjones.net/prints-SF.htm A GIFT FROM EARTH
Meanwhile
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
As a gift to myself, I'd had a mini-golf course
designed and constructed, in a area of the garden - entry
forbidden to animals.
I had also had constructed, a mini course for the Elves, bearing in
mind that they'd cheat! The Ogre was not to be encouraged. One stomp and . . . . End of the course!
Exceedingly early this morning, the Elves had gate crashed my
bedroom, to demand a game pronto - so, in the pre-dawn darkness, a competition was arranged.
To the consternation of the Elves,
Imps, Gnome and Pixies, (and my own amusement) the Goblin won . . . .
The rest of the day he spent, boasting of his prowess?!
The rains thrashed the trees, beds
of flowers, and grass. Would tomorrow's garden scene be
heartbreaking?
The night brought thunder,
lightening, and a hailstorm. The dogs slept through it, the
cats prowled the kitchen. The mouse and the spider couldn't make up their minds as to what was happening . . . .
I worked late into the night,
locked in the attic studio. A hushed house, warmth, a glass of
brandy and - voila!!
The ghost pottered in, sat down on
an armchair. His "friend" later joined him and
the bottle of brandy? Emptied . . . . and can someone
explain just how ghosts can consume
alcoholic drinks, sold exclusively for human
consumption?!
When they had shaken hands, bid
each other goodbye, they turned to me, bowed, and
drifted away . . . .
Peter & Debbie
3rd " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter. Newly released archival works.
Going, going . . . . .
Meanwhile
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
Unicorns and a Faerie elephant, a crow, the Owl, a rook and Wren .
. . . A cornucopia of bird life, and, the birds of Rhiannon came too!
The Elves were throwing pebbles, the Flower Faeries sprinkled rose
petals. The Witch, the Pixies, Imps and
Weasel picked dandelions to make
dandelion wine.
The Witch's cauldron, wand and
broomstick, "taking" the morning air, stood
staring into the depths of the pond,
where, deep down, the Mermaid practised an adapted, "Pilates for water creatures."
As the birds of Rhiannon prepared
to "hit the road," the rhythm of their songs altered, from Dixieland jazz to Mumford and Sons, "Feel the Tide
Turning."
From the dark and dreaming garden, lit only by the moon, the faint beginnings, the "intros"
to the noises of the night . . . .
Peter & Debbie
2nd " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter. Newly released archival works.
Meanwhile
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The Ogre had just swallowed a
cantaloupe melon, in one one swoop?! Unfortunately, his digestive
system did not know, quite what to do next . . . .
The Flower Faeries, who were well
aware what a plonk he could be, sat him down on the lawn and gave
his tummy a massage. They then commenced to groom the
Unicorn, today, for some reason, patient,
obedient(?)
The Witch, after yesterday's
episode, kept her attention fully focussed. The ancient spell she cast, travelled directly to the person
who had asked the Witch for assistance. The rest of the today then
proceeded 20/20 . . . .
The dogs, the cats, the ghostly
Werewolves and Wolverines had decamped to the hills. The Elves accompanied the "squad,"
for something to do.
Once arrived at the summit of
Tippety Top, they spread out, rested, and set
off to rediscover what Tippety Top had
to offer.
By the end of the day. the Elves
were kaput, the Werewolves were bad-tempered, and, the Wolverines, bored . . . .
The Pixies, Imps, Goblin, Gnome, returned straightaway to their
holes, and slept away the afternoon, evening, and
most of the night, getting up at midnight to play
tricks upon the Owl . . . .
Peter & Debbie
1st " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter. Newly released archival works.
Meanwhile
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
A ghostly Wolf and Wolverine, were circling each other, vicious, snarling, teeth bared . .
. . Every magical garden resident, knew exactly what would follow. The garden emptied like greased
lightening . . . . Only the grazing Unicorn remained
- utterly abandoned . . . .
The duel was long, though
even-matched. Neither Wolf, nor Wolverine,
either won - or lost, though puddles of transparent
blood remained, to be absorbed into the earth.
The Witch was furious, the Flower
Faeries petrified. The Elves and Imps and Pixies, were nowhere to be seen . . . .
The Unicorn, his peace destroyed,
took umbrage, stormed across the lawn, and bit
them . . . . The combat abruptly ended?!.
Peter & Debbie
April
2016
Blog
30th " EN
PLEIN AIR SATURDAY " My en plein air kit [ɑ̃ plɛn ɛːʁ]) + "Forgiveness
sketchbook". (a forgiveness sketchbook is . . .
. . a sketchbook in which you NEVER
judge your art - Ergo: it's not bad, it's not good
- it "just is".
A great way to "limber up" before
bigger main pieces!
Meanwhile
out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The Mermaid, her tail dyed pink, blue and
violet, sat on a rock in the wood pond, admiring the effect . . . .
The Water Rat, the Frog, and the
Toad swam briskly back and forth across the pond, counting the laps when completed.
A clear sky, a new moon, millions
of stars and, the planet of Venus, formed a glittering backdrop to the twelve signs of the Zodiac.
The Owl and the Cuckoo in search of supper, combed the wood, the garden, the fields -
gave up . . . . Until later?
The Witch's cauldron gave off the
sweet scent of, honey, violets, cinnamon and nutmeg The words of her spell set sail on
its voyage, borne on the serendipitous wind .
. . .
Peter & Debbie
29th " EN PLEIN AIR FRIDAY "
Nice morning in the sunshine- watercolour sketch + en plein air
kit. Early experimental piece for ‘TALES FROM THE WOOD”
project.
The fish were swimming close to
the pond's surface. The thin covering of ice gave it the appearance of a fish
tank . . . .
Waking up with a head full of
ideas for my next article, I threw on some clothes which I'd
thrown down on the floor, and, taking the stairs two at a
time, let myself out into the garden to
smoke a cigar.
The "Owl's branch" in the Oak tree
was, as yet, unoccupied and, from the kitchen garden there rose
a plume of smoke. (Did that signify the Witch's
presence?)
The Ogre's patch of grass had been
squashed flat, lost its greenness, lost its confidence(?)
A gentle touch upon the shoulder
startled me. I looked up and saw the Witch standing there, beside me, waiting to discuss, or tell me, the gossip about someone, something . . . .
Fully one hour later, the Elves,
Imps and Pixies, already, "on the ball " and full of beans, surfaced from their hidey-holes, the Witch was talking still!?
All told, thinking back, the greater part of what she said remains, lost forever, forgotten .
. . .
The Flower Faeries cleansed their
faces, spread cleansing facial masks of
mud, put on eye-masks, closed their eyes.
The Unicorn, bone weary, beat, revivified himself by trotting all
about the garden.
The Wizard, new arrived, scanned
my face and, cut in, drawing her attention to himself .
. . .
Danke, Merci, Grazie . . . . Peter & Debbie
28th " UP-FRONT THURSDAY "
Quick watercolour sketch -
close-up. Early experimental piece for ‘TALES FROM THE WOOD”
project.
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The pond was teeming with tadpoles, soon to become "junior" frogs . .
. .
Curious to find out how the pond
was coping with the explosion of new life, the Water Rat and Weasel looked on
from a mudbank . . . .
The Witch, fire lit, potion in
cauldron, awaited the outcome of her first
spell of the morning. The spell speeding on its way, collided with a tree, and burst into a kaleidoscope of
brilliant colours. The Flower Faeries, ever "happy to
help," collected the pieces of spell in a
net?! Magically, the pieces came
together as one, and the Witch dispatched it once more in its
entirety - success . . . .
The Gnome and Goblin, the Elves,
Pixies, and Imps, begged the Witch to cast a spell
for them. One that would splinter into a
thousand pieces, so that each one of them received a very
small portion . . . .
Peter & Debbie
27th " GRUESOME WEDNESDAY " KULT. Again, to say anything else is,
still,
unnecessary really.
The Flower Faeries, were riding
bareback upon the Unicorn, a psychedelic, padded saddle cloth protecting their eensy weensy
bottoms . . . .
The Witch, on her broomstick,
riding shotgun alongside . . . . held a magic wand in one hand, a horse whip in the other(?)
The Birds of Rhiannon, larking
about, played hopscotch, bird fashion, and accompanied this divertissement with a dazzling aria from
Beethoven's opera, "Fidelio."
The Flower Faeries urged the
Unicorn, to match his speed to the aria's
tempo, so smitten were they by the star
quality of the performance by the Birds of Rhiannon . . . . Peter & Debbie
26th " GRUESOME TUESDAY " KULT. To say anything else is, well,
unnecessary really.
The Gnome and Goblin, had each received a gift, and, already they were trying real
hard, to play their bamboo Pan Pipes.
Peering out from the breakfast
room window, I watched, as, lickety split, the garden emptied.
The dogs were cowering in a corner, the cats were preoccupied, hunting
mice . . . . The cook and the gardener
were having tea, in the kitchen.
Both musicians considered that, the tune they were playing was
melodious - in tune . . . . They commenced a Gavotte, clapped,
and, chose, as their finale, a Strauss,
Viennese Waltz?!
Alas . . . . a disaster
complete. Peter & Debbie
25th " IMPERIAL STARS " Classic (I'm told) in every sense? Printer's proofs unearthed today. Treasured pieces!
Ideas are like buses. They arrive
in clusters - 2, maybe 3 or not at all. Seated in the breakfast room, none came to me . . . . zilch, niente, zero, naught?!
The dogs were curled up under the
table, the cats were in the Library,
nursing the open fire. A tap at the window. Two figures stood there, the Gnome and the Witch. They waited expectantly as went to
let them in. What could they want? I asked myself as I opened the
front door.
"We have unearthed a treasure
trove. Coins, jewelery, statuettes,
precious stones and hand tools, cooking utensils and cloth, in a field which lies just beyond
the wood."
"My nose was twitching without
rhyme or reason," said the Gnome in his
difficult-to-understand, Gnome tongue. "I told the Witch and here we both
are, telling you, too." "What shall we do about carrying
the hoard back. Finding a hidey-hole where it'll
be safe?"
"Let me think on it for a time," I replied and began to plot and
plan, to decide, which of the secret rooms in the
house would be the most suitable for storing what must surely be, an extremely rare and valuable,
find. Peter & Debbie
24th " ARTURA " Printer's proof de-archived. For Gremlin Graphics
My young nephew, Oliver, had arrived for an
extended visit, bringing with him bits and bobs of
his Märklin train set . . . . plus his two, white pet rats?!
He was given three rooms in the
Nursery Wing, a bedroom and two others, so that he could really spread out.
The rats were, very firmly, put
into a roomy cage - a necessary precaution against the cats eating them for
breakfast . . . .
Having sorted himself out, leaving the unpacking to an
obliging Housekeeper, or even, me? he explored the house, then issued forth to the garden. It was there that his notched up
several degrees.
He espied the old Oak tree . . . .
to climb. A wood to get lost in, a kitchen
garden, a pond. To his delight, he'd bumped into
the Witch and an Elf. Boy, oh boy, life was going his
way . . . .
His mind worked, more or less, along the same lines as those of
the Elves, Pixies, Imps - hey presto! Eureka! What naughtiness, what tricks,
they could get up to. What stories he'd have to tell his
friends back home!!
The dogs he tolerated, the cats he dismissed. But wait. Sliding down the bannister was
another enjoyable thought . . . .
I had noticed, in the early
morning, the presence of a second Gnome. His hair and moustache were
yellow/grey striped. His features crinkled, his nose askew and twitchy. He squinted. Good fortune he did have, for his
ginormous ears were able to hear any sound, loud
or low, even from distance far from where he stood.
A screech and the beat of powerful
wings flapping, announced the arrival of the "home
to roost," Owl. He perched on z"his" branch , shook out his feathers, settled
down for a snooze - until the Elves might decide to
tweak his beak . . . . Peter & Debbie
23rd " THE ONCE AND FUTURE
PORTFOLIO " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
PENDRAGON.
Utterly entwined Arthur and
> Nimue, Viviane, Vivien, Elaine,
Ninianne, Nivian, Nyneve, Evienne. Take your pick from ancient
literature as to her name.
Whatever her name, little did I
know when I painted this picture for Editions Gallimard in France that
one day I'd be living in the very geographical area of such legend(s)
or that I'd be illustrating such.
The Witch was in a veritable
lather. Her hair stood up on end, her
cheeks flamed red, she The curses and the swearing
caused, my head to spin, my blood to
curdle. I didn't know which way to turn .
. . .
The Flower Faeries twittered, put mufflers in both ears, stopped
talking. The Goblin, Gnome, the Ghosts and
Spectres, confused, disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Only the Ogre, deep asleep, was unaffected by her outburst.
However . . . . The Wizard, in conference with a
colleague, heard the gnashing of teeth. Outraged, disturbed and perturbed,
he rushed to stem the rising tide
. . . . was unsuccessful?!
The Elves, their routine ruined, blew a gasket, lost it. Bedlam!! (The dogs loved it . . . . )
'Twas not until the Wizard stuck a
gobstopper. that silence once more descended . . . . Peter & Debbie
22nd " A DRAGON IN PIECES " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
Dewdrops and Daffodils, the Faeries, the Unicorn, the Elves
and the Ghosts, the ghostly Werewolves and
Wolverines, were hobnobbing.
The Witch stood apart, sipping
iced lemonade, deliberating upon the plan up her
sleeve.
Inasfar as her knowledge of Imps,
Elves, and Pixies, went, the plotting and planning might
well have been a waste . . . . Today, she'd find out, whether or
not, her hunch stemmed from true
understanding or guesswork. Peter & Debbie
21st " FLOATING IN THE EAST " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
Robert Asprin novel.
Created for Jiri Emmer at Perseus
Books in The Czech Republic.
The Mouse's plans had become
unstuck . . . . Its aunt and cousins had arrived
to see, whether or not they would move in
with him?!
They had travelled all night, from a house long-distant, driven by the desire for a change
of environment . . . . and menu!
The aunt was, in truth, aged . The cousins? Energetic, articulate and skilled in the art
of, "evading the predators."
Here, in this house, large as it is, they felt quite able to retain
their independence of, having to become familiar with any
number of escape routes.
The cats seemed, in point of fact, more concerned with their
lifestyle, which included, keeping the dogs in their place,
superior food - and, the most luxurious of cat baskets, in which to rest . . . .
Should the quality, (and quantity), of food not come up to standard, they gave me, and the Cook - and
the dogs - merry hell . . . . Peter & Debbie
20th " HOP - SKIP - JUMP " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
The Gnome and the Goblin were
reciting a lyrical variation of "A' hunting
we will go," by way of upsetting the Fox and
the Fish?!
The Flower Faeries had gone in search of the Unicorn, otherwise engaged in transporting
the Witch to market . . . . The upshot? No grooming, no brushing down took
place this morning.
The Ogre, now fully recovered from
the dreaded lurgi, whistled atonally as he bumbled
across the lawn.
From the wood came the sound of
the Birds of Rhiannon, practising melodies long out of
fashion.
The blackbirds and crows were
perched on every branch of the old Oak
tree, lifting off in a swarm only when the Owl put in an appearance.
"Oranges and lemons," sang the
Birds of Rhiannon as the Witch finally returned to a
cold and empty cauldron . . . . as the Ogre, fully capable of
getting everything ready, was prone to forgetfulness, more so when he felt chipper and
"raring to go . . . . " Peter & Debbie
19th " WITCHY TUESDAY " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
WARLOCK MAGZINE number 2. (time to sift-through some more .
. . . . . . )
The pond in the garden was
sprinkled with Faerie dust. The Witch added moon beams,
shooting stars, and comets.
The Unicorn, the Flower Faeries,
the Ghosts and the Ogre, stood transfixed by the sparkling,
shimmering scene . . . .
The Elves, Pixies, Imps, the Gnome
and the Goblin, feather quill pen in his hand,
were recording a history of the garden, with its magical residents?!
The Wizard who spoke only Welsh
was intrigued and deigned to contribute his mite
to the story, drawing pictures from memory of
the creatures of yore.
The buzz of excitement, the
enthusiasm, and interest, was blown by the wind, to permeate
the garden, kitchen garden, wood and house!...
A sleepy Owl watched, as the
Pixies and Imps, feather quill put aside, began to throw Pooh sticks into
the stream, the owner of the losing stick, to
be declared the winner?!
A cuckoo sang arias from operettas
and musicals.
The church clock chimed. The dogs whined and barked
scratching sharply at the kitchen door. The look that they have them, was one of aristocratic distain .
. . .
In the larder, the Spider, the
Mouse, and ghostly Werewolves, were eating their way through any food
that had been left out. They'd already cleaned out the
kitchen and pantry?! Tomorrow - the freezers . . . . Peter & Debbie
18th " PALE AND SMALL MONDAY " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
WHTE DWARF number 64. (time to rumage through some more
. . . . . . . )
Winnie the Pooh, Eeyore and "Wol," (Owl), visited the garden late last night.
The Flower Faeries and the Unicorn gave them, "Good Morrow," and the Unicorn offered Pooh a
ride across the meadows, the fields, up into the hills and back again .
. . .
"Wol" and the garden Owl took an instant exception one to the
other, being of the mind that each was a
"one off," the single example of his kind?!
Christopher Robin and the Elves, together, built a fabulous, fantabulous, mud castle.
The sternest of the Elves was
posted to "guard duty," lest the Ogre, heavy-footed, squashed flat their magnum opus.
The Flower Faeries, the Frog, the Toad and the Water Rat inspected it closely - impressed!
The Toad took up residence -
temporarily - however, "his" castle was dutifully
obliterated by the Ogre, without so much as a "by your
leave . . . . "
A brief shower of rain, the
arrival of the dogs, a bad-tempered Witch, who had misplaced her wand, produced an all-pervading undercurrent of tetchiness, till the Wizard called "time."
To change the subject, so to speak, the Elves donned Ice Hockey gear. The Witch magicked an Ice rink, and the Elves, Pixies, Imps . . .
. with an umpire in charge . . . . played a game of hockey, Elfin rules applying . . . .
Peter & Debbie
17th " THE SWORD(s) & The
SORCERER(s) " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
An Elfin-faced Faerie sat on a log, magicking a late Springtime fall
of snowflakes . . . . Such an entertaining diversion for
her, perhaps . . . . ? Most certainly not for the other
garden critters.
So skilful was she, so determined, that all it took was to point her
extra-long finger at the wish in her mind that she'd
chosen to action.
The Witch, who scarce knew her, was yet, a tinge jealous, resolving to cause some sort of
"blind alley." What actually happened was exactly
the opposite . . . .
The Elfin Faerie, sensing a wave
of antagonism immerse her, caught sight of the Witch, who was
scowling awfully. A point of her finger, a smiling command, and the Witch became - a Pixie.
The remainder of what became a
very long day for the Witch, was spent in an "hard done by"
mood. The Faerie simply took an extended
siesta . . . . Peter & Debbie
16th " MULTIPLE-MEMORY ! " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
THE SWORD AND THE SORCERER (the good, the bad, and the ugly !
).
A bearded Faerie? Streuth! and this Faerie possessed
claw-like hands, spurs on her heels. Horns and a tail? What says she's a wild thing, cannot make up her mind to be
other than a mix . . . .
She alighted delicately onto the
lawn, skipped t'wards the pond, measured its depth purely by
looking . . . .
She then chose a rock to dive off, a curlycue twist in the air, a
faint splash, as she entered the water. The backstroke, the breast stroke,
the crawl, doggy paddle, after which exertion
she turned on her back, floated relaxedly, blew bubbles. (Impressive?) Muchly. . . . .
The arrival of the Flower Faeries,
the presence of a Unicorn, Elves, Imps and Pixies, Ghosts, Gnome and Goblin, appeared to cause her amusement and, perhaps, satisfaction . . . .
?
Then the dogs came, saw, and
woofed, louder and louder till
intervention was the only course open to the Witch. With perfect timing, the Wizard
joined her.
Both Witch and Wizard fixed steely eyes on the animals. She waved her wand and recited a spell, he, in a thunderous,
imperious voice, commanded they desist.
The Epilogue:- both descriptive,
prescriptive, amounted to playing jokes on the
Owl. Was it comedy, tragedy, or
Shakespeare gone wrong? Peter & Debbie
15th " MEMORABLE
CAVALRY " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
A fast-moving stream, a full moon, the cats in the garden. Their absence permitted the Mouse
and the Ghost to indulge in a protracted game of Poker . . . . The Mouse won the first game, the
Ghost the next, and, thus it continued till the advent
of a spider interrupted concentration. The Ghost, startled, rose to his
feet and watched, as the creepy crawly, ran over his feet and across the
Mouse's nose.
The Mouse went beserkers, squeaked to the rafters. Ghost and Mouse, as one, brought
proceedings to an end. The Mouse, famished, slid down the bannisters, through to the kitchen and ate a
breakfast/lunch.
The Ghost took the stairs, entered
an untidy withdrawing room, set about sorting it, dusting and
hoovering the carpet. In the garden, the Elves, with
their friends/foes, the Pixies, wrote out a "wish list" of party
tricks, tailor-made to needle the Imps . . . . The Witch cast her wand into the
pond, jumped aboard, and magicked a mast
and sails. The weather was ideal for just
such an adventure.
The Goblin, the Gnome, and the
Ogre, settled the cauldron upon it, began preparations for a
splendiferous feast . . . . Peter & Debbie
14th " SPOOKY MEMORY ! " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
3 o'clock in the morning. A flask of hot tea on my desk. Reams of closely written foolscap piled neatly beside it.
The attic room study had already
seen action . . . . The door had been left ajar . . .
. a mistake!
Pitter patter, scuffling,
whispering, the sound of suppressed laughter. The Elves, Pixies, Imps, the
Goblin and Gnome had discovered some way to access the
house, and clambered all the way up the stairs to reach the
attics?!
The scratching and tapping ceased.
The door creaked open. A crowd of Elves, Imps and Pixies crept into the
studio/study, leaving Goblin and Gnome to post guard . . . .
They bunched up beside me, pushing
and shoving. The pile of paper on the desk was
brushed to the floor - waesucks?! Cup of tea "lifted." The door left ajar. In came the dogs to demand they be let out. Then the arrival of the Ghost
upset the apple cart . . . . Cave cane!!
The dogs went awol, the Elves hooted with laughter. The Gnome and the Goblin fell all the way down the attic stairs.
Peace was not restored until the breakfast room door was opened. Outside, in the still darkness. The moon shone, the stars glinted. The Witch in the greenhouse, slept
on, serene, untroubled.
The Unicorn whinnied an hello. The Toad, the Frog, the Water Rat
and the Weasel were sailing a fantastical canoe, around and
around and around the pond . . . . Peter & Debbie
13th " MEMORY WEDNESDAY " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
The Faerie of the Dance breezed in, bound for distant pastures new. She wore a knapsack on her back, especially designed to accommodate
wings . . . .
Alighting daintily on the lawn,
she cast a curious look around. Espying the Elves agitating the
pond. This to thoroughly upset the fish
. . . .
The Faerie pirouetted, fouetté-d, performed a jete forward, enjoy
tournant, and found a place beside the Elves, who had failed to take notice, so
deeply were they involved in playing their silly little game.
The Faerie of the Dance began to
tweak their noses, pull their ears, whip their caps off their heads,
then toss them neatly in the mud?!
When presently, she bopped their
heads, the Elves changed course and dived
for cover . . . . Peter & Debbie
12th " MEMORY TUESDAY " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
Can one really believe in Faeries
and Witches? Why ever not? There are planets out there and hundreds of Universes.
Unicorns definitely, certainly
exist. They have been sighted and drawn
and written about, too . . . . Elves live in Finland, dragons in Wales. Hobgoblins and Pixies, Imps and Ghosts, have had the run of Mother Earth for a thousand years or more
. . . . Peter & Debbie
11th " MEMORY MONDAY " Unearthing more printer's proofs
from past projects.
The Goblin, the Gnome, an Imp and
a Pixie, were acting as go-betweens 'twixt
the very young Faeries, who had declared war on learning,
and their teacher . . . .
This refusal to attend school
involved going "on strike," and they were presently sitting in
a circle on the grass, drinking grape juice and refusing
to budge?!
This feeling of antagonism had
kicked in when the pupils had been asked to
listen to the erudite Wizard's lecture.
The words he used and the subject
he had chosen, were way beyond interest for any
young, young Faerie . . . .
The Elves and the Mermaid from the
pond in the wood, were immersed in a complicated
game of Scrabble. Neither Elves, nor Mermaid
understood the rules?!
The Ogre had gone down with a
cough, sneeze, cold. He lay on the lawn beneath the Oak
tree, breathing stertorously and
occasionally choking.
The Elves were digging holes in a
flowerbed, to cover up their true intention
of clearing it and constructing a miniature golf course for their
diversion only.
The Ogre awoke, sneezed, got up, and noticed the youngster Faeries.
As he passed them, he stretched
out both arms, an invitation to the strikers" to
perch on them.
They were taken for a walk
through the countryside and up one of the hills before, returning home for biscuits and
apple juice . . . . and bed!! Peter & Debbie
10th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter. Newly released archival works. New book + Paintings + Drawings
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
The Witch was entertaining the
Wizard - or Magician, should you prefer . .
. . They'd prepared a brew of Rhubarb
wine, now ready to drink and this they
were doing.
The wine glasses sparkled, the
wine chilled. The Wizard poured and raised his
glass. The Witch, intent on drinking
slowly, missed the Magician's "let's drink
to" choice . . . . no matter . . . .
Several glasses later, each wobbled homewards, went to
sleep?! The morning passed, the afternoon was passed consuming
magic goat's milk. When the stars came out to play,
both felt fantastic . . . . They would do the same again?! Peter & Debbie
9th " METRO SATURDAY " Unearthing more printers proofs
from past projects.
Kult - Metropolis
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
The Unicorn's tail had grown too long. T'was tangled and matted . . . . His mane resembled a corkscrew?!
The Flower Faeries brooked no such ill-kemptness. (What they termed, "A thingi)" . .
. . . An hour under the microscope, and the Unicorn was "refashioned," a remake in motion.
The Witch offered suggestions, the Elves interjected their
pennyworth. The Birds of Rhiannon sang an oldie : "A Lady of Fashion."
The Owl, tucked away in his
residence, was still able to hear the voices of
each actor and hooted for silence.
The Unicorn spread his wings, in a rainbow of colours, the Faeries twinkled, clapped
their hands happily.
The Witch withdrew a lined
exercise book from her pocket, turned to an empty page and entered a spell which had,
seemingly by magic, popped into her mind . .
. . Peter & Debbie
8th " ROGUE FRIDAY " Still careering 'round the universe after all these years . . . .
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
The young woodland Faerie was
burning rubbish, collected from roundabout the wood
and far away fields.
She was adept at building fires,
even after a rainstorm. Building fires was a hobby she
truly enjoyed!
Repairing to my study, I climbed
the stairs to discover the Unicorn on the landing,
looking lost?
He snuffled the hand I extended to
stroke him, shook his head and tail, snorted.
I led him downstairs, through the
kitchen to the garden, patted his hind quarters - then he
was gone.
As soon as the Unicorn had gone, the Elves charged in without even
a "by your leave." Shelter skelter through the
scullery, pantry and kitchen went, grabbing stale bread as they ran,
and a pot of marmalade?!
Through the Library, up the bookcases, along the top - down again. Swarmed up the curtains, down
again . . . . next room . . . .
When they arrived at my study
door/studio, (I'd got there first), I banged shut the door and locked
it, bump, bump, bump. One by one, the Elves hit the door nose first, knocking themselves silly against
the, very heavy, wooden door . . . . Peter & Debbie
7th " YESTERDAY'S THURSDAY It was a "Kultural shift" (in studio output).
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
The Faeries, whose morning had
"gone to the dogs," we're doing all the things they
had missed . . . . better late than never!
The Witch, knocked askew, her
routine out of sinc, was consulting her spell book of
quick-fire potions.
The Magician was not expected
today, so she had plenty of leeway to arrange an appropriate, doable,
schedule.
The Unicorn had been waylaid by an
emerald-coloured Dragon. Both were now occupied in
skidooing down a rainbow and contesting their prowess in "long
distance," leaps . . . .
Towards tea-time, a telepathic
message came through . . . . "Return immediately, post haste, I require your presence!"
Though reluctant to interrupt
the skidooing, the Unicorn knew well -
don't ignore her command . . . . ! He spread his wings and took off .
. . . Peter & Debbie
6th " 2ND OF A KIND " My 2nd (or was it 3rd?) space
hardware
painting (for computer games, that is/was).
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
The garden Gnome progressed slowly
across the lawn. The expression on his face was one
of chagrin, for, one of the dogs had bitten him,
and, to make matters worse, the Crow had stolen his prized leather tobacco pouch - still full of his favourite,
herbal tobacco?!
He entered the wood. An idea came to mind. Why not consult the Witch, who
would, without doubt, be of help and assistance . . . .
Arrived at her "residence," he explained his predicament, waited. The Witch consulted her spell book, found the very spell she required,
and, set about preparing the potion
described.
When all is said and done, the final outcome was assured. The Crow's nest disintegrated,
fell on to the lawn. The stolen goods were revealed,
including the Gnome's leather tobacco pouch. Peter & Debbie
5th " FIRST OF A KIND My very first space hardware
painting (for computer games, that is).
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
The fire in the Library burned
bright and warm. My armchair was drawn as near as
it could be. Toes and cold feet were toasting
nicely. Flashes of inspiration coursed
through my veins!!
Later, re-reading what I'd
written, I was delighted. Next came the counting of every
word, as I knew I must, and, the word count revealed, a most satisfactory result... I had written a longer article
than usual!
The numerous pages were paginated
and sorted, carefully wrapped to ensure
neither crinkling or tearing, then dispatched. My thoughts turned to other things, as did those of the Elves!!
They harboured a grudge against
both the Gardener and the Cook, who, had shoo-shooed
them away from the greenhouse and the
kitchen.
This morning, hell-bent on ruining
their day, these "persons" who had
deliberately spoilt their day . . . .
Armed with sacks filled with slimy
pond weed, a "water bomb," and pea shooters, they stormed the barricades of
greenhouse and kitchen . . . . chucking slimy pond weed, but
saving up the water bomb.
Once the kitchen resembled a
filthy "hole," they repaired to the garden in search
of "himself." By the end of the morning, both Cook and Gardener had
exploded, furiously shouted, "We tender our notice. We go today . . . . " Peter & Debbie
4th " A LONE DRAGON "
Front cover off the U.S.A. version.
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
Advertisements popping up . . . . proclaiming "A Funfair is on the
way!" The Elves and Pixies, Imps and
Ghosts would, doubtless, beg me to take them...? And - once appraised, they did.
Their Elfen footwear were brushed, their bestest clothes were
spring-cleaned by the " Elf , who "does." The canines would be left at home. Wreaking havoc at home, OK?! Wreaking havoc in a public place? No, no, no . . . . I repeat
- no, NO.
The Witch felt, "unable" to
accompany us. "Even I," she said, "am loath to
scare, the living daylights out of
anyone. (Unless a deliberate fright is
deserved . . . . .)
The Elves, a treat in waiting, behaved with the utmost Elf
decorum. The Flower Faeries, excited too, practiced eating toffee apple a la
a Faerie recipe!
The ghostly Werewolves declined, the Ogre slept. I invited the cook and gardeners
to make up numbers, if they wanted to, of course . . .
.
We are all going, the whole
kaboodle, the Witch agreed to dress as
"normal?!" Peter & Debbie
3rd " THE DRAGON FROM BEHIND THE
(IRON) CURTAIN " Guess ! ?
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
The ghostly Werewolves and
Wolverines were in hunting mode. Enmity was writ into their every
expression . . . .
What fun t'would be, if today they
chose the Elves to stalk? No Elf or Pixie, Imp and their kin, could recognise "true purpose," as opposed to "trick or treating."
The Elves, the Imps - not forgetting the Pixies, might
"play the innocent," however, they must be fully aware of what was likely to happen . . . . ?
Meanwhile. These, "butter wouldn't melt" creatures had a swim, wash,
changed their costumes, took the "dirties" to the Laundry
Lady, and gathered for a snack.
The Werewolves, the Wolverines -
and the Witch(?) placed themselves strategically, began an ominous snarling chant.
The Elfen hordes, armed with their
personal weapons, responded. A full scale battle commenced with
a yowl, the Werewolves' war cry . . . . Peter & Debbie
2nd " YESTERDAY"S INFERNO "
INFERNO on Role Player Magazine
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
Tip of the top of the old Oak tree, leaving one branch free, for the Owl and any visiting bird
life.
The Witch and her colleague, the Witch in the Wainscot, were locked in an attic room, exchanging views on the state of the Faery Kingdom
. . . .
The decision arrived at, satisfactory to both, was to make sure that all monster edifices built
in "their" territory, were demolished. No queries. No questions(?!) Peter & Debbie
1st " YESTERDAY BECOMES TODAY "
Working on a triptych Born out of The Female Man, The Killer Mice & The Chalk Giants . . . .
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
Occasionally, in times past, when the gardener was "off," I would borrow two, maybe three, of the farmer's sheep to keep the
grass in good order.
This was a decision which worked
well for quite a time. Now, however, it no-longer fit . .
. .
The advent of the magical fantasy
creatures and Ghosts, scared them silly - and this, the farmer could not possibly
allow to occur . . . . ?!
The Flower Faeries would have done
the job of keeping the grass down, using
nail scissors.
The Elves, the Pixies, Imps would
have found just the right excuses to explain
why they couldn't.
The Witch, who had in her
possession, a spell book of antiquity - and
enormous dimensions . . . . utterly and completely refused to
become involved?! So, if the need arose, I requested
that the job, be done by a gardening assistant or employed "a lawn mower expert" . .
. .
The addition of resident Elfen
"larder raiders" and jokers, the Gnome and the Goblin, the cats
and dogs, (not to mention, heavy workload), meant that one extra duty was not
possible . . . . Peter & Debbie
"Let her escape Then let her be, Foiled and found Washed out to sea." From the book > "THE
FAERIES OF DRUID'S ISLAND"
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
.
The Elves had carried out a recki of the kitchen, pantry, scullery, where they found a packet of wine
gums and a box of chocolate buttons,
which, the cook, woe betide her, had left.
All of these the Elves purloined, some of which to share with their
nearest kin folk . . . . The Pixies, Imps, and the Gnome, would doubtless, like them, too?! Their secret foray had been
successful . . . .
The cook had simmered down, since
that, infamous, day we'd best forget. She remained to rule the roost in
kitchen, breakfast and dining rooms - and -
should the smell of the Witch's
potion drift towards the kitchen, mingle with those scrummy ones, life was nigh on, Paradise!!
I sauntered casually round the
garden, not having overslept, and noticed, the Flower Faeries, Gnome and
Goblin were seated on the Rockery,
sipping Dandelion tea.
I greeted them and continued
round, intent on talking to the Witch and a
visiting Wizard.
Today, the Witch had built her
fire, (the Wizard carrying the heavy
cauldron), in the high-walled, kitchen garden, where no fire really should be. Useless to complain. She'd merely, ignore me . . . . Peter & Debbie
30th " WISH UPON A STAR " (to keep the invaders at bay ) http://www.peterandrewjones.net/books/book_myths-faeries.htm From the book > "THE
FAERIES OF DRUID'S ISLAND" . . . . and clasp a magic shell .
. . . and cast it to the sea. There it would sink to the ocean
floor, to rid her land of evil,
forever . . . . . .
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden . .
. .
The Hobgoblin, the Goblin and the
Gnome were taking a drive in the
countryside.
The vehicle they rode in was an ancient Mini Minor, especially adapted for magical
creatures . . . .
They bowled at speed along lanes, muddy tracks and the "open road," hidden from prying eyes by tall hedgerows and trees.
With a gradual progression, the Hobgoblin increased the pressure of his foot upon the accelerator - Ho hum?! Unheeding of blind corners,
potholes, or water splashes . . . .
The car took exception to the humps, bumps and blind corners, and, with each demand placed upon
it, determined to fight back!
The rear mudguard fell off. The front mudguard followed. Then, the steering wheel and the Hobgoblin's chin met each other .
. . .
Stunned, the driver took his hands off the wheel. The car and a pothole did the
rest?! With the spectacular roar of a
wild horse on the prairies. Still in top gear, it soared over
a hedge, somersaulted, and landed upside
down in a field?!
The Hobgoblin, Gnome - and the Goblin were thrown forward and
out, landing safely, injury-free, and with egg on their faces.
The Flower Faeries had followed
them, the Unicorn overhead. The Witch, on her broomstick, rode every which way. She had, as passengers, young Elves - Elflets . . . .
The Witch twittered and muttered. The Faeries loved every minute. When, with reluctance, the Witch taxied to a halt, the Hobgoblin, the Goblin, and the Gnome were prostrate on the grass, red faced,
humiliated.
Had not these Magical, Fantasy creatures failed woefully in losing the memory of the correct routine,
however? Peter & Debbie
The Faerie of the Crocus Flower
was tired out . . . . Crocuses were appearing all over
the garden, in the wood, on the verge near the
road. Looking after them was becoming a
chore! However . . . .
This morning had provided a
welcome distraction. On a visit to the bed of crocuses
beside the road, she, and a Dragonfly had deftly
avoided a nasty collision?!
The Dragonfly, the Faery, and
sundry diverse insects, gathered together to form
ever-changing formations, in the tradition of the Red Arrow
acrobatics team.
They remained in formation with
the duo of Dragonfly and grasshopper sometimes leading, sometimes acting as the rear-guard
- occasionally forgetting what was
where and where was what?!
With a final "geyser" manoeuvre, both explosive and exciting, the aerial exhibition came to an
end. The Crocus Faerie, thrilled, and feeling "transported," zoomed back to her bed, for a lie-down or nap . . . .
The Ogre was scoffing tea and
biscuits, muffins and scones, "one mouthful"
sandwiches . . . . The grass at his feet was covered
in crumbs.
The ghostly Werewolves, jaws all
of a lather, edged closer and closer, eager to
grab the Ogre's leftovers.
The Witch, clothed in purple, was, again, in the kitchen garden, stirring her cauldron, waving
spells to all over . . . . A bumblebee and a butterfly
chased after them, playing bumper cars and having the
time of their lives?!
The Flower Faeries were busy, busy, busy, busy, setting up the wooden catwalk. This evening a Faerie Fashion
Show had been planned and arranged, every detail covered, invitations sent.
The Elves, so obedient, had "lifted" a football, a beach ball,
a badminton racket and, yet another, freshly baked cake .
. . . so, the best place to find myself
was - out of sight!
The Wizard had been on "other
duties." Out of reach, though near at hand
. . . . (A Wizard Convention, perhaps?)
The Witch, from one day to the
next, never knew quite what would happen, though not so much in the "wider"
world, as the fantasy world of the wood
and garden . . . .
Early morning, thus, the Faeries were bathing in the
garden pond.
The Fish sank down to the "lower
ground floor," the bottom of what had once been
their own, exclusive residence. Frog and Toad were waiting for
their turn . . . . Debbie & Peter
Some days had passed before the Witch was back "on form." Even the ghostly Werewolves
hesitated, edged away . . . . The Ogre slept and snored, and
snored, and chuntered.
The cuckoo clock struck 4a.m. The dogs were snuffling at the
bedroom door. The cats would, doubtless be, curled up on the comfiest
armchairs . . . .
Fox and Weasel, Toad and Frog, and other, extraneous creatures of the night, were, themselves, settling down to
sleep - one eye open, one eye closed.
I showered, dressed, yawned, and
stretched. Apres my wander round the garden, thinking through my workload, I climbed the stairs and sat me
down in the warmest attic room. Picked up a book and lost myself
in its seductive plot . . . .
From far below me came shriek. Electrified, I rushed downstairs, missed a step and slithered
inelegantly to the bottom?! Shamefacedly, I picked myself up. Pursued my way below stairs, to
the kitchen.
There I met an irate cook, and had to listen closely to her
tale, so gobbledygook it sounded!
Apparently, the Imps, the Elves,
the Pixies, Brownies, their kith and kin, had broken in, raided the kitchen,
scullery, pantry. The loaf of bread, a cake, the
biscuits, muffins, scones, the jam and
marmalade - and bottles of squash, gone . . .
. Apart from crumbs and, where
marmalade and jam, had missed their target -
splodges?! Debbie & Peter
25th " FRIDAY IN THE WOOD "
New drawing for new project =
(long-shot) "Looking up with startled gasp, I looked straight at the figure of
a caricature gnome?!" "TALES FROM THE WOOD".
Meanwhile out in our magic studio
garden . . . .
The Elves and Pixies, and the Imps, had decided, to send their young uns off to school! Why? Because.
The littlest Elves would learn to
share, give and take, and pay attention. (No chance . . . . )
Their older kin would learn, their ABC's, in the Elfen language. Easy arithmetic, the languages of
humans. (Paying attention? Not one bit. Their minds were busy somewhere
else)!
The Unicorn stood on the sidelines, as the Elf-lets formed a line. This, to stop those who, feeling
bored to tears, scarpered - to join their elders filching food
or, tease the Ghosts and Witch. A pastime they much preferred) . .
. .
The Elves and Pixies, Imps, in their turn watched, observed, noting which little 'un would very unlikely, develop the character or personality to do other than spell trouble. Be a thorough pain in the .
. . . !! Debbie & Peter
24th " THURSDAY
IN THE WOOD"
New drawing for new project =
(mid-shot) "Looking up with startled gasp, I looked straight at the figure of
a caricature gnome?!" "TALES FROM THE WOOD".
Meanwhile out in our magic studio
garden . . . .
The Wizard and the Flower Faeries had severe indigestion?! The Witch had concocted what should have been a treat - it failed to please . . . . A pain in their tummies was what they felt.
The Ogre snored and belched, the Witch having used him as a
guinea pig. (His, had been the "treat . . . .
" ). No tummy ache for him. Sugar plums and Faerie cakes HAD gone down deliciously!! He felt replete?! Regret did not enter the picture.
The Witch sighed, contented. A fan of the Ogre's? No fear . . . . Acute discomfort was her gift to
him. Bully for him?! Next stop, the Elves.
Today would they turn out to
behave, as friends, or as foes? The decision depended upon one or the other.
Elves, Pixies, and Imps would eat until they dropped. Hiccup and burp, then, retire - vanguished.
The concoction she magicked was exactly as specified . . . . The Elves, tummies hurting, "bested," lay on their rubber beds, paddling
mournfully, criss crossing the pond.
Misfortune awaited the "satisfied"
Witch, too. Towards lunch time she was
"confined to quarters." The Elves had discovered, in the
kitchen cupboard, a "burn your mouth" curry sauce which they mixed with her
breakfast/lunch. Swallowing glass after glass of
water, she dived into the pond. Wow!! Even I could see smoke drifting
over the garden . . . . Debbie & Peter
23rd " WEDNESDAY
IN THE WOOD"
New drawing for new project =
(close-up) "Looking up with startled gasp, I looked straight at the figure of
a caricature gnome?!" "TALES FROM THE WOOD".
Meanwhile out in our magic studio
garden . . . .
The Elves and Ghosts were sorting,
grading, plotting, planning, the when and how, for stealing the Bugatti Chiron.
Such a feat of engineering, such grace and power, speed, maneuverability, each Elf, each Ghost hid the truth - that, under the guise of helping out, each yearned to be the "sole proprietor . . . . The outcome?
The theft, though planned in every
detail, resulted in the lot of them, locked in a Ghost and Elf-proof
strong room, food and water provided, the threat of exile should they
not apologise . . . . Debbie & Peter
22nd " PRINTED TUESDAY "
NEW Limited Edition Print release. http://www.peterandrewjones.net/prints-SF.htm The Invincible.
Meanwhile out in our magic studio
garden . . . .
Were it not for trees and bushes, woodland scrub and woodland glades, The Witch could not have had, the freedom to experiment, perfect her spells without
constraint.
The Owl possessed a mighty ego, "His Haughtiness," or, "I'm all right, Jack." Either, summed him up . . . . yep!!
He sat on the lip of his front
door, observing the "flavour of the day." The morning proceeded without
incident, each garden resident occupied. For sure?!?
The Owl's 20/20 vision, caught the movement of a rabbit, apprehension in every hop . . . . The Owl swooped upon it, talons drawn, gripped it, lifted his prey aloft
. . . .
The rabbit battled valiantly, adopting an improvised karate chop. He caught the Owl just where it
mattered, on beak and head. Stunned, its captor surrendered, The rabbit fell to earth and
disappeared down the nearest rabbit hole . . .
. Debbie & Peter
21st " PAINTED MONDAY "
Final Stage of - tubed !
"Studio Blue" (or just "Deep
Blue"). A combination of Pthalo Blue and Cobalt
Blue. Just to use up small amounts left and not otherwise enough for an
entire tube.
"Waste not, want not" and get a "spontaneous colour" to
use.
It prevents your palette range
becoming predictable !
Meanwhile out in our magic studio
garden . . . .
I had invited a friend to the
house, for luncheon and for tea, and, to watch the Rugby Six Nations
match on tv.
Otherwise engaged, therefore, I missed, a band of merry Elves had stolen the Witch's wand, hat, and cloak .
. . . ?!
Not only had they hidden these, they had also douched with water, her carefully built-up fire.
As the Rugby match progressed, we became evermore engrossed, a raucous shriek and cackle smote our ears . . . .
(Aside from the fact that the Witch was short-tempered, she had had quite enough of the Elves tricks and "spoilers," bar none!)
Rushing to unearth yet another
magic wand, and not looking where she was going, she put a foot down one of the
numerous rabbit holes in the lawn.
She tripped and stumbled, fell, landed flat upon her face. She bumped her head and swallowed grass and new-turned
earth. That was that . . . . Her temper exploded, the result? End of our viewing of the Rugby Six Nations match . .
. . Debbie & Peter
20th " PAINTED SUNDAY "
Time to replenish paint stocks. Stage 5. Not crucial, but I like to make
labels for tubed paint.. It just gives it tat "professional
touch". Meaning, you do take your own
professionalism seriously!
Meanwhile in from our magic studio
garden kitchen skulduggery is afoot ! !
An expert in the art, of sharpening knives had come to call - to do his
"stuff" with ours.
The cats were curled up on kitchen
chairs, washing their faces, preparing to
nap. The sight of a mouse, in search of
food, would have gladdened them both, provided
something to tease . . . .
The cook was seated at kitchen
table, doing her accounts and sipping a warm cup of coffee.
The nose of a minuscule, very
hungry, mouse, poked out from a hole in the
wainscot and twitched. Sniffing, it sensed a most
scrumptious smell, waited a moment and rushed out.
The cats leapt to their paws, raced after the mouse. The cook had, fortunately, missed
it. She had also failed to see, the
Elves, the Pixies, the Imps, the Gnome and the
Goblin, knapsacks on their bags, were
waiting . . . .
When the "knife man" had gone, and
the cook upstairs, discussing the menu for supper
with the housekeeper, they seized the opportunity to
ransack the larder.
The Flower Faeries, now dressed in
"evening clothes," said nothing. And, sent the Faery
of Japonica to summon the Witch.
Settling down to a feast that
could not wait to consume, the Elves suddenly found the food
had disappeared . . . . Debbie & Peter
19th " PAINTED SATURDAY "
Making oil paint.. Stage 4. Having filled the tube with paint. (tap vigorously on the open cap end to have the paint slide down the
inside of the tube) use a pair or pliers to seal the
bottom end.
Meanwhile at the entrance to our magic
studio
garden the head Witch of
Fantasy land
was upon us, ! !
The wood was hushed with
expectation. No creature stirred, except the
Mermaid . . . .
The pre-eminent Witch of
Fantasy land was soon to pay us, what one would call, a "State
Visit." She, and her retinue, would stay "under wraps," within the wood,
and heavily guarded.
First to arrive, her office staff, followed by her Chef - with
helpers, the Housekeeper, her "Keeper of Wines", her groom, leading an Arabian stallion.
Next in the procession came, the
Royal Family, Ladies in Waiting. So long and snakelike was the
procession that, keeping tabs became impossible.
Even the most carefully-laid plans
do go amiss, and, ignoring Elves
and Pixies, Imps and Ghosts, let alone,
ghostly Wolverines and Werewolves is not a
recommendable action . . . .
More tomorrow . . . . Debbie & Peter
18th " PAINTED FRIDAY "
Stage 3 of making oil paint. Sometimes it is fun, if there are small amounts of
pigment left to put one or two colours together
to make a unique colour. Here are Pthalo Blue and Cobalt
Blue - together. I call such blends "studio"
colours. So, in this case, it is "Studio
Blue".
It is nice, then, to paint for a
week or so with a "slightly altered palette".
Meanwhile on the edge of our magic studio
garden
strange things are happening in the depths of
the ocean ! !
A sad-looking mermaid sat on a rock, in a quiet backwater, her companion a sea turtle.
Both would return to the depths of
the ocean, where aquatic plants were exotic, and aquatic creatures resembled the strange beings of Science Fiction.
The mermaid was presently involved in choosing a new home, pollution and speedboats, gigantic container ships, made her daily life increasingly hazardous.
The sea turtle took these
monstrosities with commendable tranquility and
patience, though, even he, was thrown back
on his wits, if and when, he had miscalculated
its speed and he realised, the container vessel was just above his head.
He would learn, in time, to swim nearer the water surface, thus able to spot which vessel
might hit him . . . . Debbie & Peter
17th " PAINTED THURSDAY "
Making paint. Stage 2. Some pigments, when oil is mixed
with them. are heavier to mash, and need a
wider blade to ensure thorough mixing.
Meanwhile on the edge of our magic studio
garden the leader of Witches is here ! !
The Elves took umbrage. The Pixies jeered. The Imps sat down, refused to bow
. . . . And, the Ghosts turned grey, their hollow eyes blazing with fiery wrath.
A change of wheels, a change of
horses - the Leader of Witches was constrained to descend from her carriage. Impatient, she paced to and fro, surrounded by her bodyguard, Ladies in Waiting - and the Ghosts.
The Elves aimed their pea shooters, the Imps blew magical horns, eschewing any regard for
politeness or courtesy towards "Her Majesty."
Of a vengeful personality, and inclined to be petulant,
should the behaviour of her subjects not come up to her expectations, she instructed her bodyguard to "clap" them in irons?!
Approaching the miscreants, these fearsome individuals took
the Elves, Imps and Pixies by the scruff of
the necks . . . . Advised that the result of their
disrespectful behaviour would be a sojourn in gaol, they hissed and blew raspberries
at their captors.
A whispering sound, a warm draught
of air, signaled the arrival of arrival of
Faeries to the rescue. Each chose a victim and together
they caused, such discomfort to the men, that
they did an unusual thing - the miscreants were released!
So incensed were they at this
"unforgivable" detention, they deliberately began to make the Leader Witch's day a nightmare
come to life . . . . Debbie & Peter
16th " PAINTED WEDNESDAY "
Time to replenish paint stocks. Stage 1. Sprinkle raw pigment onto a glass
plate. Spatula/painting knife at the
ready . . . . . . .
Meanwhile on the edge of our magic studio
garden the Fox is being wily ! !
The Fox was grateful, The Faeries blew bubbles of sheer
delight . . . . The huntsmen? They drank from their stirrup cups, sighed, trotted home to regale their
friends, with the tale of "The Fox which
got away."
(Of the Faeries, no word - their
embarrassment too great). So ended a "grey day," for the
Master of the Hunt . . . . " Debbie & Peter
15th " PRINTED TUESDAY "
NEW Limited Edition Print release. http://www.peterandrewjones.net/prints-SF.htm Transveyor (or, Omnivore if you
prefer).
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden
the Unicorn has had his breakfast interrupted ! !
The Gnome and the Goblin were both
suffering from toothache. They had spent the night awake, dragging themselves around the
garden . . . . Even the Flower Faeries noticed?!
They cast surreptitious glances at
each other. Only one thought came to mind -
"Time to get in touch with the dentist, who deals with Gnomes,
Imps, Pixies, Faeries . . . . "
A telepathic message sent, the
Gnome and Goblin were told, " Be ready, waiting. And, stop
moaning . . . . " The freshly groomed and
brushed-down Unicorn grazed unconcernably. What may be happening around him, was really not of interest . . . .
Astride a miniature Dragon, the
dentist arrived and took control.
Their afflicted tooth filled,
their teeth cleaned, and regardless of their swollen mouths, both pelted off, rushed round the
garden, jumped, kicked their heels
and dived into the icy cold of the wintery garden pond.
The Unicorn, irritated, interrupted in his breakfast,
spread his wings, neighed, showed his teeth, and flew away to
pastures peaceful . . . . Debbie & Peter
14th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival piece.
"Dark Angel" Kult (tracked-out shot).
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden
the hounds are being hunted ! !
"Gotcha!" shouted the Master of
the Hunt. "A fox is in the bag," he added. "Well done, Sir," he heard.
The Faeries of the Winter Fields saw, and intervened promptly . . .
. Frightened of hunting dogs and
horses, they summoned every vestige, every
morsel of courage.
Sweeping down upon the hounds, they screeched as only they know
how . . . . Showering the animals with scorn
and thistles, tweaking their noses, pulling
their ears - determinedly persistent . . . .
The fox was spent, could fight no
more, went limp, gave up. The hunt was ordered to a halt.
The kill was very nearly over, when the Queen and goddess, Godda , with her sisters in attendance, expectedly appeared.
Seizing the leader of the pack, she dragged it off, returned for
more. Rapidly, efficiently, the Faeries
went about their business. The fox was freed, turned tail, running almost as fast as a
Cheetah could travel . . . .
And was free . . . . Debbie & Peter
13th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival piece.
"Dark Angel" Kult (mid-shot).
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden
the Elves are being ordered around ! !
The Elven Chief sat upon the kitchen garden wall, issuing commands, left, right, and centre . . . .
The Elves were proving to be efficient, effective, obedient?! (So unusual for them).
Waving arms and drumming feet, the Elven Chief kept control, of
both the situation and his "men." What their duties were, who knows?
The Witch felt hemmed in,
encircled - shades of the Battle of The Trees.
By the time the Elven Chief had
leapt from the wall, the garden was shipshape, tiptop. The Elves were fit to bust,
exhausted . . . . Debbie & Peter
12th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival piece.
"Dark Angel" Kult (close-up shot).
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden
there's been an unexpected event ! !
Fantasy and Faerie tales, myths and legend, the imagination. To see, to hear, to feel, to touch, to smell, to do . . . . These are just some of our gifts
to ourselves!
The Gardener was digging, hoeing, raking, assisted by both Gnome and
Gnome. (Insofar as their attention was
really focused on the job).
The unexpected advent of the Witch (her cauldron in situ), proved to be the final straw. They abandoned ship on the spot .
. . .
From over the kitchen garden wall, came the sound of stertorous
breathing, snore, a snort repeated over and over?!
It was unthinkable that, any Pixie, Imp, or Ghost, could dream up easy ways to wake
him.
It was the Witch, who, knew a
spell for that very tricky purpose. In the time it takes to snap your
fingers, she'd brewed, and was stirring, the lightly fragranced potion?!
Taking a cup and tiny spoon, she dribbled the liquid into the
Ogre's nostrils. He woke up . . . . Storming to his feet, he belched, and burped, sneezed,
then, shot, torpedo-like, towards the safety of the wood?! Debbie & Peter
11th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival piece.
Kult (tracked-out shot).
Meanwhile just beyond our magic studio garden
Faerie kith and kin are playing sport ! !
The Unicorn stood nose to nose, with the Lion, Dragon, Leek of
Wales?! They faced one another squarely. The Unicorn withstood their glares
. . . .
The Flower Faeries, impressed, gave the Unicorn a carrot?! Satisfied, he munched and crunched
through the carrot, his feed, and the lawn!!
Elves and Pixies, Imps and Gnome,
Goblin, and their kith and kin, commenced a 5 a side, Rugby match.
The teams, the fiercest "men" in
every camp, fought to wrest the Champions
Rugby Trophy . . . .
The battles were still underway,
when the dogs and I, came on the scene to take the air?! A roar of disapproval all went up,
shocked, I felt a violent kick back . . . .
My stomach churned. My mind went
blank.
Every Elf and every Pixie, Imp,
the Goblin, Gnome, thunderstruck, streaked away across the garden, to lose themselves in the dank,
dark, wood . . . . Debbie & Peter
10th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival piece.
Kult (close-up shot).
Meanwhile just beyond our magic studio garden
a strange occurrence was being experienced ! !
The dawn was just breaking. The dawn chorus of bird life was on form . . . . however, the traveler had still a long way
to go.
Faint rustling and be-stirrings were the only sounds in the
silence. Clear skies heralded a fine day,
though the moon shone still. Not a breath of wind stirred the
grasses or trees.
Wending his way past odiferous
farms, through fields, across hills, fording rivers and streams, the translucent form of a foot
sore ghost, followed the high-hedged country
roads . . . .
Rounding a bend, a shabbily-clad traveler came, walking in a nonchalant, "keep
away from me," style.
As he passed the ghost, dagger in one hand, he thrust out both arms, to shove him out of his path. However . . . . The ghost drifted sideways to meet
him, passed straight through him, and, continued on the journey to
wherever he was going . . . .
The coarse-featured stranger
choked with astonishment for, having expected to cause a serious
wound, his dagger had penetrated - nothing, thin
air . . . . Debbie & Peter
9th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival pieces.
Kult (tracked-out shot).
Meanwhile out in or magic studio garden
the Mermaid was practicing
synchronized swimming ! !
There was a shriek and a "slipping
on mud" sound. I turned and saw "Alice through
the Looking Glass" disappear down an invisible rabbit
hole. (With the rivers rain that have
fallen lately, the rabbit hole was, most
certainly, flooded. Poor Alice!!)
I knelt by the hole to see where
she was, and yes, she was completely and utterly
soaked - to the bone...!
Extending a hand, I pulled her
"ashore," took her indoors to rub down and
shower, after which, she drank hot cups of
tea and partook of toast and jam.
I returned to the kitchen garden to find that the Elves were
climbing up beans talks and digging up newly seen veg. Why ever for? - They had already stripped the
apple tree of its newborn leaves and tiny
buds.
The next visitors arrived from
Wonderland shores. Tweedledum and Tweedledee and a
harassed White Rabbit. It was par for the course that
Tweedledum and his colleague, would straightaway launch into a
vitriolic argument. The White Rabbit scuttled out of
earshot, deep in the wood . . . .
Later, much later, I in this
misty, damp day, I went to the pond in the wood for
a dekko. The Mermaid was practicing
synchronized swimming with the Mer-man and a shoal of
graceful fish. The Toad, Frog, and Water Rat
hopped, skipped, and jumped out of the water and
into the reeds . . . .
Debbie & Peter
8th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival pieces.
Kult (mid-shot.
Meanwhile out in or magic studio garden
the Goblin is struggling to keep ! !
The Goblin was watching a firefly,
entranced. The speed with which it changed
direction, the Goblin found absolutely
mesmerising!
A Wren tried to join it, the firefly changed direction. Finally, the Wren had to call it a
day . . . .
The Goblin then espied a bumble
bee. Intrigued, he trotted closer. What was it up to? Buzzing off, it narrowly missed
the Goblin's long, hairy, and misshapened, nose . . . .
The Goblin stepped back sharply
straight into a rabbit hole. Losing his balance, he fell
backwards, bumped his head, swore.
He poodled off to complain to the
Ogre - a close friend . . . . Debbie & Peter
7th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival pieces.
Kult (close-up).
Meanwhile out in or magic studio garden
Goblin floor traders are dealing ! !
The Dragon, tiny by the usual
standard of Dragon size, was clearing his throat and
nostrils after the fire flares of last
night . . . . (His nostrils felt tender and raw)
When his toilette was complete, he shook himself down, spread
those powerful wings, took off, aerial somersault, smoke
issuing from his nostrils . . . . Meanwhile -
The Goblin, looking deep in
thought, was contemplating the idea of an
inventing an incredible mode of transport?!
He discussed the pros and cons
with the Witch and Wizard/Magician. Although intrigued and interested, each knew. full well what the
final outcome would amount to?!
Goblins are renown for a lack of
attention. Though fascinated by commerce, 'tis the accumulation of money
which is their primary aim . . . . Achieving wealth without effort, great!! Debbie & Peter
6th " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival pieces.
Kult & Simulacra.
Meanwhile out in or magic studio garden a statue like creature is in
distress ! !
Character by character, my friends, my Fantasy Icons, paraded down the garden path, across the lawn to where, the Magician Wizard and the Witch
waited. Beside them stood the Faerie Queen, imperious, magnificent . . . . surrounded by her entourage.
Lord EDRIC stood at her right
hand, the Lady Godda, at her left, eyes downcast, full of tears?
Her handmaidens arranged her veil,
placed a coronet of Rubies on her cloud of red/gold hair. Lord EDRIC glowered when he noticed the tears begin to course, down rosy cheeks and drip, drip, dripping off her nose and chin.
A statue in distress, she wept -
waited . . . . As she dwelt upon her fate, as answer swept across her mind. "This need not be the grand finale, simply disappear, destination Unknown!" The life I lead is full of secrets. Secrets that even I forget?!
Breathing deeply, she turned her head to study her surroundings. As chance would have it, the very spot came straight into
her field of vision.
Eschewing further hesitation, she whispered the appropriate
commands. And, a whispering flutter later, Godda was gone!! Debbie & Peter
5th " NEWS TIME"
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Kult & Simulacra.
Meanwhile out in our studio garden Faeries are balanced on the garden
gate ! !
Refuse collectors were emptying
bins, shouting comments to each other. The postman placed a parcel in the
garden grass receptacle. From underneath the Rowan tree, the Elves were watching their
high-speed
The sun hung low in the winter sky, the clouds and mist danced the
dance of unhurried-ness . . . . Faeries balanced on the garden
gates, tight-roped along the telephone
line, or, joined the sparrows in the trees, singing, laughing, giggling . . .
.
The distant hills glowed
purple/green, and golden where the sunlight
touched them.
Somewhere quiet and secluded, a Witches coven met each morning
to exchange, general this and that, and what
had taken place last night.
Sheep and goats, Faeries, Elves,
Imps and Gnomes, and several Ogres, living upon the
hillside, went about their daily life with
scarce the need to run and hide . . . .
The Condor vulture . . . . (wrong place, wrong country?), winged its way across the hill
tops, no sound of noisy cars, today. The Elves somersaulted down - in
one determined effort. Competition? You've guessed . . . . Debbie & Peter
4th " NEWS TIME"
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Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden a thunderstorm raged ! !
With the advent of the Orc, the garden atmosphere turned tense. Compatibility? None. Competition? Trickery and
deception . . . .
The Elves, the Pixies, Imps and
Gnome, Goblin, Orc metaphorically fought to show,
'twas they who stood out amongst
the crowd. The Flower Faeries left them to it. Oh, and I forgot. How?
Throughout the seemingly endless
hours of last night, a thunderstorm raged. The thunder crashed and vivid
sheets of lightening flashed - a blazing light 'cross tempestuous
skies . . . .
Sleepless, I got up. Went downstairs. The dogs accosted me and, I noted,
in a mood 'twixt fright and "glad
to see you."
Opening the garden door, I watched the dogs take off, as though fired from a heavy
canon!! (Only the puffs of smoke were
missing).
Leaving the door ajar, I went to get a scalding coffee. Seated comfortably, I glanced up to catch the time on the large,
round clock.
I dropped the cup and burned my
hands. To cap it all, my jeans were
soaked. Remaining rooted to the chair, I shook in utter disbelief.
A ghostly figure, clothed in
breeches, riding boots and elaborate
waistcoat, entered through the door. Struck dumb, I waited and waited.
The figure drifted through the
room, pausing to adjust the furniture. He turned, approached me, bowed. Then, took my hand and shook it, uttering courteous words of
greeting.
He talked awhile, while I listened, trying to comprehend, the English, long-dead, that he used.
Meanwhile . . . . A hullabaloo had broken out,
somewhere close. The dogs were barking fit to bust. The ghostly figure went quiet, turned about and drifted out
through the still closed door . . . .
The dogs had clearly irritated the Witch. And the Werewolves. And
the Ogre!! "Why," I asked myself, " were they
up and running at this hour?"
The rain was falling still, though
the storm had passed, the wind less forceful than it had
been. A second ghost, a lady(!), in
morning dress and light, slipper/shoes, bowled a hoop along
the path.
I've tried to find out who they
were, without success so far, however, books galore about the house are
listed in the well-stocked Library, on the first floor . . . . Debbie & Peter
3rd " NEWS TIME"
Time for our monthly newsletter.
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Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden the Faeries were undergoing a
training in
self-protection ! !
Flower Faeries Being Courageous
The Flower Faeries, and the
Ogre(!), under the tutelage of the Witch, were undergoing a training in
self-protection?!
The lessons covered the
Martial Arts Judo, Karate, and Aikido. The Martial Arts were more in line
with the Witch's turn of mind, rather than the Flower Faeries'!
Surreptitiously, one by one, each
Faerie crept away. The Witch was concentrating so
hard that, by the time she realised what
exactly was happening, the Faeries had
dispersed and hidden all around the garden . . . . Debbie & Peter
2nd " NEWS TIME "
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Newly released archival pieces.
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Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden the dogs are on the hunt for
adventure ! !
The Cats had found a mouse hole in
the old panelled wainscot- evidence of a mouse family in
residence through countless years.
Each took his turn to lie there,
eyes unwavering, from time to time, yawning hugely.
The dogs, on the hunt for
adventure, were pawing and sniffing at
something that should really not be there.
Came the Witch and Magician/Wizard, slithering down the banner stairs. On reaching the hall, they went round the corner to the store room
stairs.
The Wizard sat and read a book
while she, occupied herself with, purloining, ingredients, which she
felt, would make her menus tastier . . .
. Debbie & Peter
1st " NEWS TIME "
http://www.peterandrewjones.net/iacg.htm Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival pieces.
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Meanwhile out in out magic studio garden the Gnome is landing hard on the
cobbles ! !
The Gnome and the Goblin had journeyed to market, hitching a lift on a 17-hand cart
horse . . . . (such a comfortable ride, on its
very, broad back!!)
The morning was gone, and the
midday chimes struck, before their chosen destination was finally
reached.
Sliding down the flank of the cart
horse, landing hard on the cobbles, they adjusted their head gear - made tracks for the market . . . .
The purchase of new clothes was low on the list of favourite
pastimes, however, the prospect of a pint gave ordeal
a positive start!!
The stall selling clothes for
Goblins and Gnomes, was chock-a-bloc creaking under
the weight of fresh stock, so, no time was wasted whilst they
searched . . . .
Armed with a sackful of
punchy-coloured garments, they crunched toffee apples as
they took the path to the Inn.
The evening hours were
well-advanced by the time they reached "home." Debbie & Peter
February
2016
29th " NEWS TIME "
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival pieces.
Kult & Simulacra.
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden their Flower Faeries in the
pond?! ! !
Yesterday, exhausted by a long
day's writing, I woke much later than than usual. To find, the bedroom door ajar and the bedroom full of animals .
. . .
On the chest of drawers the cats
slept, noses buried under tummies. Both the dogs lay beside the bed,
now awake, alert, and raring to go.
I knew well the row they'd make, if they felt they'd been ignored. I got up, let them out, shooed the
cats out of the room, had a bath, dressed, and went out
into the garden . . . .
Sheer, I found the Witch,
surrounded by the Elves and Pixies. The Ghosts and ghostly Werewolves
had yet to surface, the Flower Faeries in the pond?! And, discovered, the Witch's fire
had been built in the middle of the lawn . . . .
Irritated and annoyed, (the Head Gardener would be
furious), I began to reprimand her - found
she merely turned her back. I shrugged and raised my voice. No response at all . . . .
An aged Pixie approached, poked me
in the ribs. I looked at him and he looked at
me. "'Tis her birthday today," he said.
Morning broke, the opaque sun rose and shone,
fitfully, all day.
Come eventide, the Witch's coven, had created and
set up, a veritable Carnival scene, Faerie lights and dragonflies,
tinsel, streamers - rainbow-coloured everything . . .
. Debbie & Peter
28th " NEWS TIME "
Time for our monthly newsletter.
Newly released archival pieces.
Kult & Simulacra.
Meanwhile out in our fantastical garden
somebody is enjoying a tasty morsel of breakfast in a bush?! ! !
I chanced to walk out very early
this morning, to find that the garden was already full of
this's and that's and its resident occupants.
A shrew and a weasel had joined
the cast, inserting themselves into the
group of "early to rise" Elves.
The pond had a thin film of blue
ice, not to be trodden on, unless you
wanted to freeze . . . . The Elves were intent upon
choosing a victim, one of their own, who would try it
- see what happened, if anything,
and, if necessary, go to his rescue.
The Faeries awaited the Unicorn's
arrival. They had already laid out what was
needed to groom him, each item handmade and somehow,
waterproof?!
The Birds of Rhiannon had settled
in the Oak. Later, they would bathe in the
sandpit, utter euphoria . . . .
Somewhere, and invisible, the
Witch had retrieved, an ancient White Witch spell which
would, transform her from hag to a wonder
some beauty!! This she would search for just as
soon as she could. In the background, the Werewolves
and Wolverines prowled, awaiting the dogs to emerge for
their walk. (A grand opportunity to give them
a fright).
Sweeping down from grey/pink skies, the Owl was back, comfortably full of whatever his
prey. Ruffling his feathers and
meticulously rearranging them, he relaxed, closed both eyes, had a soothing siesta . . . .
I wandered around, had a chat with the Witch. A frog hopped beside me, the weasel scuttled past, having
espied a tasty morsel of breakfast in a bush?! Debbie & Peter
27th " CRUX MILLENNIUM "
Update to project . . . . . . = Full shot of 1st chapter start
from CRUX
MILLENNIUM book.
Baaleesch, evil ruler of Darkworld.
Meanwhile I am trying to get some peace to read the above book ! !
I am reading a book by a talented
new author, entitled, "Crux Millennium." The plot, roughly described, concerns the lands of Lightland
and Darkland. It's an unputdownable read and my bedside light remains lot till
past 2.00am!
The fact that the bedroom
overlooks the garden, means that any one of the fantasy
creatures who want to come into the house, can bang on the window till I let
them in.
Tonight, comfortably ensconced, immersed in "Crux Millennium," I became aware of a banging and
crashing below. Irritated, I got up, went
downstairs, to discover the Elves were still
awake and demanding entrance . . . .
Knowing that if I refused to
comply, they would remain where they were, thumping and banging and generally
crashing around, in order to create utter mayhem. Fun entertainment - for them . . .
. Debbie & Peter
26th " CRUX MILLENNIUM "
Update to project . . . . . . = Track-in of character from CRUX
MILLENNUIM book.
Baaleesch, evil ruler of Darkworld.
Meanwhile out in our magic studio
garden comedy and drama, played out yet
again ! !
The Ogre was suffering from
chilblains, which caused ups and downs in his
mood and his temper . . . . 'Twas fortunate that he spent most
of his day sleeping and dreaming!
The Flower Faeries, sipping
Raspberry tea, cast surreptitious looks at the
Unicorn. They had groomed him and brushed
him down till he shone, then, left him to graze on the succulent
grass. (Rather that than risk a bitten
hand?!)
Finishing their tea, their next
"obligatory" task, was washing-up the breakfast
things . . . . and bathing.
The Faerie of the Snowdrops
hesitated not at all, diving straight in the pond with a
whoop of sheer joy . . . . The least courageous Faerie, of
Winter Aconite had, perforce, to be pushed in, with a splash and
a Yelp.
The Witch, her cat, and the Owl,
looked on - free entertainment laid on every
day!! Even the busy, busy, very stern,
Wizard, became ever more assiduous in
visiting the garden, anxious not to miss too much of
the action . . . .
As for me? The temperature had dropped low
again - thus, walking the dogs became a "muffle
up" chore?!
Much of the comedy and drama,
played out in the garden, I missed. Too short an allowable time-frame
to take in all the action!! Debbie & Peter
25th " CRUX MILLENNIUM "
Update to project . . . . . . = Close-up of character from CRUX
MILLENNUIM book.
Baaleesch, evil ruler of Darkworld.
Meanwhile above our magic
studio
garden was a first-class traffic jam ! !
The Witch was stirring her cabbage
soup, (the cabbage dug up from the
kitchen garden) - stolen . . . .
Flower Faeries, Ogre, Owl, Goblin,
Gnome and ghostly Werewolves - ghosts
aplenty, were causing a first-class traffic
jam in the air above the lawn.
A Wizard, just arrived, began
directing traffic, and, sooner than soon, the way forward
was unblocked.
The Faeries were skittish, the Owl
exhausted, the Gnome and Goblin were panting
for a herbal cheroot . . . .
Werewolves, Wolverines came
bounding, from the wood across the lawn, in pursuit of each other - and the
two vociferous dogs!
Into this early morning play, flew
the Birds of Rhiannon and a lively, spirited Unicorn.
The Unicorn began to graze,
oblivious to the Flower Faeries. Began to chomp his way through
scrumptious, juicy grass. When the meal had reached what the
Flower Faeries decided, was enough, they led him to where they best could hose him down and
groom him. (The Unicorn was unimpressed . . .
. ) Debbie & Peter
24th " TALES FROM THE WOOD "
New project begun . . . . . . = Long-shot of sketch from TFTW".
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
it is quick step, slow step, steady as
you go ! !
It surely was a week of angst . .
. . No one was immune.
The sound of a bugle called a halt
to, the general palava . . . .
A clash of symbols, a roll of
drums, the wail of bagpipes,
softly-played trumpets. The Witch, the Ogre, Gnome, the
Faeries, Elves and Goblins, Pixies, Unicorn
- one and all were struck dumb. And
. . . .
Along the pebbled path marched the
Elves, in formation, quick step, slow step, steady as
you go!!
Every fantasy creature - and
everyone else, Came to attention. We saluted, (if you can call it
saluting), once more stood to attention and
followed the March Past, then stood down - at ease ! !
Debbie & Peter
23rd " TALES FROM THE WOOD "
New project begun . . . . . . = Mid-shot of sketch from TFTW".
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
are creeping up, on tip toe, eager . .
.
The Witch, my nephew, and the
Witch's cat were deep in contemplation of, the potion steaming in the heavy green
cauldron . . . .
The Witch had taken a shine, to
Oliver and, was instructing him in how to
become a "spell-binder!"
The dogs were trying, with all
their might, to get his attention, They obviously wanted another "playmate" in their team . . . . ?
Creeping up, on tip toe, eager to begin this morning, with elan
and dash, the Elves let out a piercing
shriek, which actually woke up the entire
household?!
The Unicorn, the Faeries, the
Gnome and the Werewolves, jumped out of their skins and headed straight for the exit . . .
.
The Mermaid, the fish, the Toad
and the Frog, dived beneath the icy surface of
the pond. The water churned, the water reeds
quivered. The clouds sailed languidly
east/west . . . .
Most satisfied and pleased, the Elves began a game of
hopscotch - jumping, skipping, somersaulting
and, to finish off, they scrambled over each other to
see who'd be first to the top of the
old Oak tree . . . .
Debbie & Peter
22nd " TALES FROM THE WOOD "
New project begun . . . . . . = Close-up sketch from TFTW".
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
the Elves are causing upset. . . .
Boldness and initiative the Elves
possessed - and in abundance!! So overwhelming was their passion
for, causing upset, "pull your hair
out, " style.
The Flower Faeries were targeted
today, the plan? To sound an Elfin hunting horn
just behind them, then, turn the garden hose on - full. Holding tight, to aim the hose
directly at the Flower Faeries . . . .
With due caution they prepared to
"untie the rope, and cast off . . . . " The plan succeeded. What luck!! What happened? Athens Faeries betook their sodden
selves to the Ogre, then the Witch. They, too, hatched a plot to equal
that of the teasing, joke-prone Elves.
The plot was "learned off by
heart," and at the shouting of "go!" they showered the Elves with
twigs, leaves, tree bark, grass and pond weed, mud and earth.
The Elves, self-righteously felt
hard done by . . . . "
Next thing -the Ogre rolled on top
of them?!
Debbie & Peter
21st " Raw Solar 2 "
= Thumbnail sketch from volume 2
of "Solar Wind". Reserve your copy here >
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
the fog is heavy . . . .
The garden was obscured by a
blanket of fog, hanging, curtain-like, on
this still, dark night.
The Faeries were having the time
of their lives, darting here, darting there,
floating through the fog. 'Twas unusual to see them this
late, and, watching their high jinks, I felt strongly compelled to join
them . . . . for fun!
As I reached the old Oak tree, the
fog parted and, through this portal a ghostly
figure stepped.
Clothed in corduroy trousers, a shirt and a sweater, brogues and gloves, she carried a lantern - unlit, and a pair of soft dancing
slippers . . . . A lady of not so very long ago?
Her eyes searched the darkness for
something lost, or gone. Her expression puzzled, forehead
creased, lips blanched. Her hair was mussed and tangled, once fashionably styled.
I tarried a while, she, walked towards the house and
tapped on a window, peering anxiously into the fire
less breakfast room.
Dropping her hand and averting her
eyes, she turned, directing her
footsteps t'wards the orchard and ornamental Italian Garden.
I followed, watching closely, with fascinated interest and saw
her sit down on a marble bench, take out a book
and begin to read.
Too tired to stay, I returned to
the house. In the morning she'd gone . . . .
and I was left with a Faerie ghost
story to tell!!
Debbie & Peter
20th " Raw Solar 2 "
= Thumbnail sketch from volume 2
of "Solar Wind". Reserve your copy here >
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
the atmosphere is calm (for once) !!
Sitting peacefully in my study, at the ending of the day, I smoked my pipe and sipped a
glass of brandy and soda.
The dogs were fast to asleep,
hogging the open fire. The cats were in the kitchen, curled up in their comfortable
basket.
The Elves, without a thought, were
carousing around round the fire they'd lit, beneath the old Oak tree - not an intelligent thing to do?! (Did they ever care a jot for
making silly choices?)
The Owl was somewhere far away, searching out a suitable prey and, the Imps and Pixies, Gnome and
Unicorn playing hunt the weasel, or,
climbing trees.
The Flower Faeries, dutifully, were tending the plants and flowers now
in bloom. Putting them to bed. Making sure that they'd been fed
and watered.
I continued to smoke smoke. Chose a good book and . . . . A Faerie's your best friend !
Debbie & Peter
19th " Raw Solar 2 "
= Thumbnail sketch from volume 2
of "Solar Wind". Reserve your copy here >
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
a sneezing fir has broken out !!
The Leader of the Wolverines
sneezed. The lesser Wolverines did too. That which he did, they must
/emulate - otherwise he wasn't pleased and
took offence.
The Witch was not best pleased to
know the Wolverines were back. The Unicorn, his mantis sharpened, fidgeted, but felt relieved!! With them here, no one would dare to cause the Unicorn discomfort.
The Birds of Rhiannon alighted on the dewy lawn and, fluffing up their blue/gold
feathers. Each time the Birds of Rhiannon chose pay a visit, their feathers, beaks and tough, gnarled talons, swapped colours - hundreds of 'em . . . .
A creeping most drifted. rolled, obscuring the trees, the house and surrounds. Elves and Faeries, Imps and Pixies utilising hands and feet, felt their way across the lawn, hesitant to fall head first into
the pond . . . . t'was inky dark and bone chilling
cold!!
Debbie & Peter
18th " Raw Solar 2 "
= Thumbnail sketch from volume 2
of "Solar Wind". Reserve your copy here >
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
a Faerie needs some help with her heavy cauldron !!
The Faeries were dancing lightly
upon the surface of the pond. On their tiny feet they wore
delicate shoes made from sowing together fish scales, tiny pieces of reed and decorated
with Faerie water lilies . . . . The fish swam quite contentedly, staying beside the water's edge. The Toad and Frog hopped in and
out of the chilly winter water.
The Elves were somewhere in the
wood, gone to see a woodland witch. She was very, very young,
auburn-haired and dressed in azure blue, with
a touch of pleasant dark grey.
Her cauldron was much smaller than those the other witches used. Her wand and spell book matched
each other, gold and silver, polka dotted.
The spell book was thick and
heavy, pick upable only by an Ogre. The Witch had such a friend . . . . Together with the Elves and
Faeries, a goat, a cat, a woodland Gnome, her circle numbered few, but
lasting, coterie of magical friends . . . .
Debbie & Peter
17th " Raw Solar 2 "
= Thumbnail sketch from volume 2
of "Solar Wind". Reserve your copy here >
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
there was a breeze conducive to "easy" flying !!
Astute? or not? The Elves, perhaps, could be
thought of as such, though actually they, the Pixies,
Imps, the Gnome and Werewolves, their
kindred spirits, actually just behaved according to
their current mood . . . .
The fish in the pond were at the
bottom, keeping a watchful eye on the
surface. Both cats were sitting on a log, eyes searching avidly for a likely
meal.
In the old Oak tree, a Gnome was swinging on a branch, walking along it on his hands. Performing handstands, somersaults.
Airborne flocks of rooks and
crows, soared and dipped, the breeze conducive to "easy"
flying . . . . The Owl, returned from his nightly
food hunt, perched in a stately Chestnut tree.
The Witch was in the kitchen
garden, digging up what vegetables there
were. These, she'd boil in the cauldron when the spells had been sent to
their destinations.
A distant howl smote my ear . . .
. I dropped my toast and rushed to
the kitchen. There the cats - so innocent, had obviously scratched the, too
boisterous dogs . . . .
Debbie & Peter
16th " Raw Solar 2 "
= Thumbnail sketch from volume 2
of "Solar Wind". Reserve your copy here >
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden a full moon glowed. the night sky was clear
The Flower Faeries and their guests were watching a ballet, choreographed long ago, "La Baiser
de la Fee."
Tomorrow they'd enjoy, "La Fee de
la Rose," the Sugar Plum Fairy solo and the Fairy solos from "The
Sleeping Beauty."
For the sake of simplicity, the Witch, with her cat, were
making sure that no untoward disturbance occurred
to spoil the evening.
The Elves were banished to a field
beyond the wood. The dogs and their enemies, the
cats, were put in separate rooms under
lock and key . . . .
A full moon glowed. The night sky was clear. Stars twinkled and sparkled. A comet briefly blazed.
By now, the wind had stilled. The air was shiveringly cold. Even the Ghosts and Spectres,
wandering the garden, did do with rapidity, building up
speed . . . .
Debbie & Peter
15th " Raw Solar 2 "
= Thumbnail sketch from volume 2
of "Solar Wind". Reserve your copy here >
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
there's conflict afoot !!
This bright, winter/spring morning, Fighting Fantasy was the name of the game . . . . Absolutely, no pun intended?!
The Witch, bless her, was in a
dreadful temper. Her cat had developed double
pneumonia.
The dogs were behaving
reprehensibly. The Ghosts and Spectres and the
ghostly Werewolves, were indulging in a bout of fisticuffs
. . . . (The Werewolves won - hands down!)
I was champing on the bit, 'cos my publisher wanted, post haste, I add, an article explaining the language
of Shakespeare?!!
There was, however, one redeeming
feature . . . . (And I do, most heartily, look
forward to it). to watch as my revered sister
takes a header into the pond . . . .
Debbie & Peter
14th " Raw Solar "
= Thumbnail sketch from volume 2
of "Solar Wind".
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden the Mermaid is indulging in a cold. early morning
swim !!
The toad, a frog, the fish and the Mermaid were indulging in a cold. early morning
swim. The brook which fed the stream was
flowing fast and clear, the weather was wet and the trees
dripping, their leaves rustling . . . . The Oak tree Faerie was
keeping dry by sheltering in an Owl's nest. Hidden within a silent glade, where silence reigned, the trees
grew tall flowers and bushes, creatures
large and small, lived out their lives without
interference.
Six Witches divided the wood
between them. Real Witches, dressed in black. Each communicated with the others
using telepathic powers.
Each possessed a cat , which
despised the others . . . .
Faeries flitted through the trees,
sat on tree branches, practiced acrobatic flying and
giggled lightheartedly . . . . Chatted and chatted. Animals of the night snuffled and
sniffed, hunting with noses and night eyes for something to eat . . . . Occasionally, a stranger, either
animal or Faerie, Ogre, Witch, wandered into the wood to
establish residence. When the wind blew, or a breeze
stirred flowers, bushes, trees, grass, a whispering andante sonata
drifted through the air . . . .
Debbie & Peter
11th " Solar Outward-bound "
Double page spread from volume 2
of "Solar Wind".
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden the Elves are remembering a land beyond history !!
Far, far, away in a land beyond history, lived a Gnome of extraordinarily,
Herculean, strength . . . .
He dwelt in a wood, in a hollow
Oak, with barricaded front door and
narrow slits for windows.
Such was his temper, if crossed, he threw extravagant temper
tantrums - threw sticks and stones, stamped
his feet, roared blue murder?!
No other creature, save a silver
grey stripped Unicorn, dared remain in the same place for
more than a brief pause.
Was getting toward evening and the
sun was setting, when the Gnome, his purple tangle
of hair standing on end, lost his temper with the Unicorn,
who, he decided, was trespassing without permission
on his woodland property . . . .
Lashing out and stamping - pulling
mane, forelock and tail, he commenced to fist his gnarled
hands and punch the poor animal.
This was enough for the Unicorn
which, reared, kicked backwards with his
rear legs and gave the Gnome such a clout that the wind was knocked out of his
sails.
The Unicorn stood right over the
prone figure, lay down to squash him. The bad tempered Gnome lay
exhausted - completely finished . . . . Debbie & Peter
10th " Solar Docking "
Page from volume 2
of "Solar Wind".
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden the Elves need yet another lesson !!
The Witch was singing as she
worked. A high-pitched,crackling, nasal
sound. Beside her, the Wizard/Magician
prepared the various concoctions to be used over the course of the
ensuing day.
The Elves, sensing a situation
which could be rendered chaotic, wandered round to where the Witch
stood, preoccupied brewing her potions .
. . .
The Elves had plotted a plan to
somehow spoil the potion, so that nothing of any note actually
happened . . . .
With innocent demeanour, the Elves
crept ever-closer, greeted Witch and Wizard and, pretended an interest. However . .
. .
The Witch felt that the Elves were
behaving with uncharacteristic politeness so she kept a beady eye
on their doings and where they
went.
When she saw Elfin hands extending
towards the cauldron, she lifted
up her Witch's wand and waved
it, saying, "The Elves need yet another lesson. Let thorny thistles
grow where they lay their heads to sleep."
That night, when the Elves settled
down - so they thought, they found that their pillows and
their blankets caused each continuous
discomfort. None of them enjoyed a
restful sleep at all . . . . Debbie & Peter
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
I am enjoying a concert !!
Wandering across the garden, into
the sunbeam lit wood, I heard the unmistakable sound of
a contralto voice - singing fit to make one's heart
burst . . . .
This voice must surely belong to a
a new and unknown incomer? The fresh water Mermaid was, most
definitely, a soprano.
Gradually, the voice became
several . . . . A tenor, basso, basso profoundly,
an alto - the sound echoed far and wide,
permeating the entire wood.
I reached the pond and sat me down
to listen to this gift from the Water creatures.
The Elves were tone deaf and had
other fish to fry. And the Witch?
She gathered up the sound within
her arms and placed it in a precious box .
. . . Debbie & Peter
Meanwhile out in our magic
studio
garden
the Witch is muttering and listening !!
One of the Faeries of the woodland
glades was having a bathe and washing her hair under a
downpour which should surely have crushed her.
However . . . . .
So tiny was she, that when all's
said and done, she fitted neatly in between each
stream of water . . . .
The Witch, with her stick, cat and
book of spells, Wandered into the clearing,
muttering low. She gazed at the trees, greeted
the Owl, listened for a while to Rhiannon's
song birds.
With a shuffling gait she resumed
her way - to her cauldron, her spells and,
perhaps, the Magician would pay a visit? .
. . . Debbie & Peter
7th " Solar Trajectory "
Double page spread from volume 2
of "Solar Wind".
Thank you to those who have
already registered their interest.
We've added you to the list and noted your special book number. If you haven't reserved your copy
yet, just e-mail and ask.
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are concerned with ripples, gurgles, bubbles,
swirls!!
The Faerie of the rivers and
streams, brooks and rivulets and reeds was rendered aghast to see this
morning, how little water flowed . . . .
No ripples, gurgles, bubbles,
swirls. No under flow or sound of waster
sucking twigs and bits of bark underneath its flow forever . . .
.
She hesitated but a moment,
prepared herself for an imperative journey . . . . took flight . . . .
Darting, weaving, circling, onward, she flew to meet the Witch. Eventually she found the Witch standing in a glade, deep within
the hushed wood .
She listened deep and pondered
long - decision?
She chose a spell . . . .
The spell was cast upon the breeze, traveled with speed to where it
was so very much needed. With joy unbound the Faeroe saw that water rushed, gurgled,
bubbled, swirled and sucked . . . .
Debbie & Peter
6th " Solar Ascension!
"
Cover of volume 2
of "Solar Wind".
We are now in the final stages of
editorial on the book. To have a special, particular
number
from the edition, just ask.
Just e-mail to reserve your
interest and we'll add you to the list.
First come, first served.
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are enjoying the
music of the woodland glades !!
Sunlight sparkled,
glittered , on the green, green blades of early Spring grass . . . . The fallen leaves lay ready to
be swished and swirled by feet. Those leaves perchance
remaining on the branches of the woodland trees fluttered - the
music of the woodland glades . . . . Rustles, stirrings, bird calls, twitterings . . . . a scuttling of tiny feet. A twit a twoo from the Owl, raucous snores from the Ogre.
Echoing fitfully on the wind - the sound of hard, metallic hoof
as the Lord EDRIC urged his steed ever onward . The hoof marks left behind, were
deep and desperate imprints upon the wild, untamed landscape .
. . .
Debbie & Peter
5th " Solar Lift Off!
"
Registration time in upon us.
We are nearing release of volume 2
of "Solar Wind".
To reserve a particular number
from the edition, reserve now.
Just e-mail to reserve your
interest and we'll add you to the list.
First come, first served.
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden the Queen of the Faeries
is hatching a plan !!
The Prince of the Hill Forts was
galloping homewards, his Palomino stallion powerful
beneath him.
The Prince was hell bent upon a
position of Overlord, Overlord of the lands that existed
as near and as far as the eye
could see.
The Queen of the Realm of country
Faeries watched his progress. As she watched, a plan came to
mind.
The hedges were high, the trees
grew in clumps. When the Prince reached a gate or
a hedge or a fence, she would cause it to heighten, thicken,
become less easily jumped.
What she had decided happened to a
more than surprised Prince. His Palomino stallion failed to
clear the jump and throwing its master, (who
landed in a muddy ditch), it cantered back relaxedly, to its castle stable . . . .
Debbie & Peter
4th " MEJORADO Jueves !
"
Thank you so much to Teófilo in
Spain.
Another games fan adds a unique
introduction to the book.
Join in and be a hero !
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are going where the mood takes them !
The Butterfly Faerie with flowers
in her hair, was possessed of the most
enormous, sparkling blue eyes . . . . Her little nose was snubbed and
upon her lips she wore pink lipstick - her
favourite colour!!
Her expression today was one of
perplexed misapprehension for the Witch had informed her - informed her, not asked her, that she should and she must chose
a particular perch, help to groom the Unicorn, keep
well clear of the Elves with their tricks and teasing.
The Butterfly Faerie opened up to
the Flower Faeries as they bathed, washed their hair,
and chose the clothes that they would wear this
Winter/Spring day . . . .
"Ignore the Witch," they told her.
" This wood is your home now. Do what you will, go where the
mood takes you."
"After all, the Witch carries on
making spells, regardless. She brooks no interference. Let us drink Camomile tea and
flutter around to annoy her. Perch on her head and hide her
magic wand . . . .
Debbie & Peter
3rd " WaTcH OuT FoR iT WeDnEsDaY!
"
We are fast approaching
registration day.
Register for your uniquely
numbered and presentation style copy.
Details to follow in few days time
. . . . . .
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are having a "around the pond" day !!
The woodland pond was still and
clear - not a ripple disturbed its surface. Magical fish swam lazily deep,
deep down. The reeds grew taller - verdant
green.
From somewhere hid behind a rock, a Mermaid broke surface, shook her
hair . . . . She perched herself upon a rock, which lay quite near the muddy
"shore." She commenced to comb her hair, singing delightfully as she did so.
The frogs and toads, the
Ladybirds, the insects, beetles, creep
crawlies, assembled, the Ogre lumbered quickly by.
The leaves and a soft, earthy
floor made the wood a place of profound
quiet . . . .
Debbie & Peter
2nd " START-UP TUESDAY!
"
"Tales from the wood"
A brand new project.
Raw. Primordial. Deliberately
direction-less. A Faerie project dancing with
abandon . . . . . .
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are having a parade !!
The Faerie danced with such
abandon, yielding heart and soul, mind and
body to the dance . . . . She twirled, she spun, she used
her back and arms and legs to create a passion and furore
scarce experienced in the "Wood Theatre."
The costume that she wore that
evening was breathtakingly smokey pink. Silver bangles on her wrists, silver threads on back and
head. A feathery appended from the
cap. Shoes of silver. Skin lightly sprayed with pink and
silver body paint.
To the Faeries standing in the
wings, such a performance meant for
them - a change of costume, of style, of
technique.
A close-up of a page page from HEROES & VILLAINS Volume1.
Shipped-out to Spain yesterday.
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are having a parade !!
The Elves were parading the length and the breadth of the garden. Round, round, round, round - see! how fortunate you are to have us as garden companions . . . .
The ghostly Werewolves took one
look and out came their vicious teeth, their
frightening fangs, their sharp yellow claws.
Final outcome? You have already
guessed - The Elves stood well-beaten . . . . End of story . . . .
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are having a squabblesome day !!
The ghostly Werewolves were on the
look-out for any Elf or Pixie, Imp or
Sprite. These teasing, joking, poking fun at anyone fantasy creatures, had gone too far this time and ? ?
What will happen?
I watched well back, behind the breakfast room window as the ghostly Werewolves ,
moving slowly, snuck up upon their irritating, thoughtless "friends."
In one fell swoop, they held the Elves, Pixies, Imps and Sprites enclosed within an unescapable
fold. They attacked and soon it dawned upon their "favourite
people" that - perhaps it would be a good idea to
think . . . . perhaps yes, perhaps no . . . .
A centre spread (center if you
prefer) of HEROES & VILLAINS Volume1.
HEROES & VILLAINS Volume 2
coming soon !
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are under the weather !!
The climate raged, the creatures fought - flesh-eating dinosaurs - some vegetarian!
Witches out-numbered Faeries. Werewolves were REAL!? Ghosts? They have existed since the beginning of Time . . .
. Witches. In them days, were malevolent, wicked. Never treat them other than as "Overlords" of this Land . . .
.
Let us Blog-on and put them
together - a book is a book after all. What think you all?
Paintings with characterisation and strangeness, a weirdness, but friendly,
companion ability . . . .
Today and forever, till the mists of time clear - creatures, both fantastical and
"everyday" will be with you - Rhiannon's song birds, the vicious King Edric's
wolf hounds, Godda's golden stallion . . . . and more . . . . . .
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are the subject of our creative output !!
The Faeries are coming. Do you hear the beat of minuscule shoes upon minuscule
feet? The Ogre's there, too - as is the
Witch. The Elves bring up the rear,
the Owl acting as scout.
Demons in their hordes have invaded these lands, ruining crops, destroying
the natural habitats of both fantasy and "ordinary"
creatures . . . .
From the depths of the oceans, from the depths of the earth, to the heights of blue skies, into Space, and beyond, the forces of good have donned armour and sword, catapults, bows
and arrows, broadsword and backfiring pistols.
Giants rampaged - and brutal they
were. In the end our trusty Warriors won out.
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are the subject of our creative output !!
While the snows fill the heavens
of the fair USA. While there is scarce to do here
in Great Britain, our imaginations are used to great effect and we use the
results to write Fantasy stories, paint
Fantasy pictures, put together a selection of portfolio pieces!!
This night, with ease and a long
conversation, a portfolio of distinction was
created for publication . . . . Such perspicacious attention, such enthusiasm, 'tis about fantasy creatures, Faeries and
Goblins, Elves and a White Witch, who reside all around us - hidden by an aura of translucent light .
. . .
Debbie & Peter
25th " MANIC MONDAY!
"
The Curse of Naar (II) - completed.
Privately commissioned pencil
drawing (for Heroes & Villains book
insertion).
Based on Berkley Books USA
paperback edition 1995.
Meanwhile the creatures in our magic
studio
garden
are listening to an interesting conversation !!
A caterpillar and a worm were scouting round the garden. What, exactly, their intention was not one of us could understand . .
. .
We watched their elegant,
wandering, deep in conversation; progress - right from beginning to where the twosome
disappeared.
The Elves being in the best of
spirits were copycatting every move, every twist, every
turning of the head?!
The Owl was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps gliding with Pegasus 'cross a distant Fantasy world?
I wished all and sundry good morrow, quoted to them a short, short, entertaining
verselet learned from my father as a child
>
" One fine day in the middle of
the night, two dead men got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other, Drew their swords and shot each other?!"
More double page spreads for a
HEROES
& VILLAINS book.
Even more focus needed, to
finalise !
Meanwhile the creatures from our magic
studio
garden
are enjoying the unseasonal weather !!
Can you believe this unseasonal
weather? Almost Spring - like, almost
summer!!
My sister wrote me - she doth come . . . . to
visit - oh! what woe . . . . oh!
what fun. How I look so very much forward - to having so much ?? . . . . .
Await my future thoughts!! Bliss . . . . in waiting . . . .
Meanwhile the creatures from our magic
studio
garden
are wary of a potential visitor !!
On top of the world . . . .
The Faerie Queen of
Gingerbread Mountain - the highest peak on a remote
Caribbean Island, was due to hold court with her
Embassy staff . . . .
These varied and disparate fantasy
creatures spread their elevated positions in the Diplomatic world to out-flung, well-known or remote
continents, islands, peninsulas and deserts.
So satisfied was she with her
chosen life style and career that she had developed the art of
"throwing her weight about . . . . "
I hope she doesn't come here !
Debbie & Peter
22nd " FRIGHTENING FRIDAY!
"
The Curse of Naar (II) (tracked-in
shot)
Privately commissioned drawing (for Heroes & Villains book
insertion).
Based on Berkley Books USA
paperback edition 1995.
Meanwhile the creatures from our magic
studio
garden
are watching the sport !!
The Rugby club had come to tea. Tea was not the word I'd have used
. . . . My sister, issuing the invitation, stressed the importance of
supporting any sport, all sports - except Curling!!
The Elves were really not amused. These tough, strong Rugby players did not appeal to their smaller
selves . . . .
The Faeries hid, but felt the pull
of peaking out to see the "fun." The Ogre merely stood aloft and gently sneered at these "small
men . . . . "
I sneaked upstairs as soon as soon, having no inclination to join in. Up in the attic, warm, dry and
quiet, I was able to pursue what I must
do . . . .
Debbie & Peter
21st " THRILLING THURSDAY
" Close-up.
The Curse of Naar (II).
Privately commissioned drawing (for Heroes & Villains book
insertion).
Based on Berkley Books USA
paperback edition 1995.
Meanwhile the creatures from our magic
studio
garden
we for a ride with me !!
Slept not a wink. No rest for the wicked? Instead, I hit the high road and ran till like the wind . . .
.
The Faeries of the wayside, those
of country roads accompanied me companionably, urging me ever-onwards . . .
.
The Owl and the Witch, Magician
and Elves did their bit to ameliorate the effort that I made!! An occasional tractor, high-sided
vehicle, Land Rover, motorbike, bicycle, penny
farthing, et al, hurtled, wobbled, steadied .
. . . continued upon its way.
The morning had broken, the clouds, light-coloured pink - a John Constable painting "in the
flesh . . . . " I raised my arms to the sky and,
let out a whoop of sheer joy . . . .
Debbie & Peter
20th " LONE WEDNESDAY
" Soon to be a drawing too.
A request for a private
commission.
It'll be interesting - and fun !
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden
in front of the wood
the Elves are in trouble !!
The Owl was cooing softly, both eyes closed, wings twitching ever so . . . .
The Goddess Queen, Rhiannon paid a visit to our garden . . . .
A lady of celestial beauty - problems she's encountered? Many.
The Goddess of the Earth, Gaea, came to meet the creatures,
whether fantasy or true. To assert her right to issue
orders.
The Witch felt completely at her
ease. Conversed with interest, listened
carefully, The Elves were smitten by her
clothes . . . . The Unicorn, at first unsure, soon
settled down, allowed her to stroke mane and
tail.
The Faeries were full of questions
- how and why did they exist, or were they simply an
invention to stem the tide of reality?
Debbie & Peter
19th " LIMITED TUESDAY
" New print release, triggered by
collector's wish.
Any image in our picture library
can be had as a print.
Just choose the one you want.
Then e-mail us to arrange.
Then it'll wing it's way to you.
Shipping is free !
Meanwhile come in from our magic studio
garden in front of the wood the Elves preferred to be comfy snug in our large
Library chair !!
I skidded homewards after visiting
my aged, very "Suffragette" Aunt . . . . She'd lay me down and lecture the
cat and dog and me for hours. When finally she was done, we were given tea, with toast and cakes.
At home, safely snug in the large
Library chair, I sipped a Brandy and nibbled
After Eight mints. A favourite television programme
to look forward to later!
The Elves, as per usual, were in
the kitchen toasting their hands over the
multi fuel Rayburn. The cat slept peacefully under
it, A scratch sufficed to punish any
kick, loud voice or naughtiness on the part of an Elfin pest!
I passed a serene, most
"profitable" evening. Climbed the stairs backwards and
prepared for bed . . . .
Debbie & Peter
18th " RED MOON MONDAY
" It's an omen . . . .
The red moon.
Time to move to the next project!
Out in our magic studio garden in front of the wood the residents are agreed - the snow must not be allowed to hamper progress !
The Dragon really does not like
this, magical not-White snow . . . . the moon is angry with the snow stealing centre stage ! He visits the garden to see Witch
and Elves, however, he is off like an arrow shot from
a bow when tis time to head home to a
cave in the hills . . . .
The Elves are well-covered, thick
cloaks, woolly hats, Elfin boots and thick socks,
scarfs. mittens, ear-warmers, perhaps even long-johns and
log-sleeved vest?!
The Faeries, too, wore hooded
cloaks - of all colours of the rainbow . Their hair shone, their eyes
sparkled, they giggled and gossiped.
I spent a brief visit with the
Witch and the Dragon, after which the dogs began to
complain at high volume. Back inside in good order, then they hogged the Library fire
. . . .
Debbie & Peter
17th " SNOWY SUNDAY ?
" A long trek to get here here. Beyond the studio, Into the surrounding hills and
the Stiperstones.
And the Devil's Chair.
In a land of Myth & Legend.
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden
in front of the wood
the weather has finally lulled -
momentarily !
Every one of my friends - both
fantasy creature and "real," found, at last that, finally a
"quiet" weather day was here!!
They trotted out into the garden, to enjoy simply doing "their
thing." I, too, joined them, talked to the
Witch, smoked my pipe and then the Ogre
appeared and stumbled passed me to the Oak
tree.
Arrived he dropped on to the grass, stretched and was soon fast asleep
. . . . (The more things change the more
nothing ever really changes?!)
The Faeries - at last able to wash
their hair, comb and style it, groom the long-suffering Unicorn,
comb his tail . . . . (Determined ladies!!) But, truly
beautiful . . . .
It is always a pleasure, an
entertainment to wander out into the garden each early morning before
breakfast . . . .
Debbie & Peter
16th " SLEETY SATURDAY ?
" http://www.peterand
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front of the wood storms are raging !!
The storms have hit us, fair and
square - Absolutely no point in trying to
meet my Fantasy friends huddled under wraps in hidden
shelters . . . .
I spent sometime each day, standing at the breakfast room
window. With rain water streaming down the
panes, t'was not the most intelligent way
to watch what, if anything, was taking place upon
the lawn!!
The Elves did poke their noses out, the Faeries did endeavour to test
their wings, but - succeeded only in fluttering them,
whilst remaining under cover . . .
.
How long this manifestation of heaven's unruly temper would
continue - who knew? Grit your teeth . . . . . Someday winter t'will become
spring!!
Debbie & Peter
15th " FREEZY FRIDAY ?
" Well, it's here at last, the snow.
Like the rabbit in the picture,
I just want to hide !
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front of the wood the Elves are in trouble !!
Hippity Hop, hip hippity hop the Hare and the Rabbit were
on the warpath . . . . The Fox, now resident deep in the
Wood, was causing on-going "Mal de Tete," to both - with great success . . . . So dire was their mood, that, the Witch sensed something amiss
and, without an ado, she appeared and the situation altered! The Fox, putting tail between his
hind legs - took off with such speed that he
very nearly turned to butter!!
Based upon his Short Story (from
"Tales of Shattered Earth) >
"The Girl who remembered Fish"
In future days, when the world has
forgotten every creature of nature, every non-artificial human, the girl stumbled, inexplicably,
over a secret, hidden pond deep within a plastic forest!!
At first she gasped, then lent
forward to inspect these, supposedly extinct species, not
seen for decades . . . . Fascinated, she dipped her her
hand in the cold, still water - so much did she desire to hold one
and stroke it?!
The fish sought refuge behind a
rock. No chance at all that she could do
what she wanted The girl tried once more, and
again and again - Too bad, the fish was not alive
for the benefit of weird humans.
Disappointed, the girl put her
hands in her pockets and returned to
"replicant land" . . . .
Debbie & Peter
13th " SNOW COMING WEDNESDAY ?
" They say it is on it's way.
The cold white stuff.
Nice to paint, on a planet far,
far away . . . . . .
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front of the wood the Elves are in trouble !!
The cats are back, the dogs
"downgraded." They've now betaken to the scullery where their personal dog beds, at
present, are put . . . .
The Elves, I've impounded - locked
them in the kitchen garden, instructing the Witch to keep a
watchful eye upon what they get up to! (She'll do her darnedest I am
positively sure!!)
My sister is due anytime this week. I must think of a plot to keep her
"out of my hair” . . .
Debbie & Peter
12th " BREAKFAST BELL TUESDAY
" It's an 5.a.m rise, to organise
calendar shipments.
It's even quite sunshiny (some of
the time) which bodes well.
Perhaps today, we'll get into the
post office with dry parcels!
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front of the wood our fantasy friends are enjoying the sun !!
The dogs were in their element. the cats had gone to have their
once yearly MOT . . . . so - a whole morning without the
disdainful, "we're superior" atmosphere.
The Elves, too, were having fun. Rhiannon's song birds had come to
call. Although they'd perched atop the
Oak, the Elves soon joined them . . . . to sing Elfin ditties . . . . A different rhythm, untuneful
voices?!
I, semi-amused, stayed to see, what the state of play would be in, more or less, half an hour? When the breakfast bell tinkled, the Elves scrambled down - time to
join me and steal whatever the leftovers they could find in the kitchen . .
. .
Debbie & Peter
11th " WEATHER-BREAK MONDAY
" The Sun returns . . . . . at least
for today, and the well is full.
And so it is, that as goodness and
sustenance return to the land, the Ogre is appeased, and the
people are
dancing in honour of the return of the Shee Well -
- and
the maiden, who found she could, for
the first time ever, speak at last . . . . . . . has become his loyal
mistress. At least for today.
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front of the wood our fantasy friends are enjoying an outbreak - of sun !!
The sun, the sun . . . . What more could one ask? The Fantasy creatures basked in indolent gladness, The Elves swam and teased the
goldfish . . . . Kicked the cats and threw
earth-balls.
The Witch and her cat were "at
station," in front of the Cauldron, the Witch stirring, her cat snoozing . . . .
The Ghosts and ghostly Werewolves
were wide-eyed, bushy-tailed Relief profound written all over
their faces!!
I? What of me? I lay on the lawn, ecstatic, completely let go . . .
Debbie & Peter
10th " SNOW COMING (?) SUNDAY
" Will today be as wet as yesterday?
Everybody's moaning (true, it is
bad) but . . . . snow may be arriving.
Will we get today's calendar
shipment to the Post Office safely?
What? oh, it's Sunday ! Of course.
I think maybe I should cut my work
hours down !
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front
of the wood our fantasy friends have had to be rescued from the mammoth downpour !
'Tis OK today, thank you! Many thanks, also, for your
support re: Elves, Imps, Pixies, Ghost, dogs
and bad-tempered gardener . . . . who else?
I find sometimes, that, posts a.m. I collapse, exhausted, into the
deepest Library armchair . . . . Phew!! (Then, of course, the dogs will
insist upon hogging the fire).
To be blunt. Presently, my brain box is "up to
capacity with ideas of all sorts, " and - simply put - I desire to get on, post haste, with
whichever works best!!
Debbie & Peter
9th " SOGGY SATURDAY
" The downpours continue.
It's a national crisis.
We are lucky here - unpleasant,
but safe, unlike those in the North.
So - no grumbles here really, even
if it is unpleasant.
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden
in front of the wood
our fantasy friends
are keen to sit
before our open fire !
A really, really bitter day . . .
. One to don three layers or more and still find oneself a-shiver -
a quick walk and inside!!
Need I say that all the garden
residents, Witch and Wizard too, plonked themselves comfortably
before the open fire?! Scarce room for me . . . . however, we passed a relatively
sane a.m . . . .
I felt I must, must - truly must,
issue an invitation to them - that, should they be desirous of
warmth and comfort, they were welcome to stay in!!
Debbie & Peter
8th " FLOODED FRIDAY
" A good day to paint.
A road trip is out of the question
- we are severely hampered.
A landslide has disrupted train
services.
As long as we can screen-out the
cackling from the garden !. Calendar now available here >
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front
of the wood our fantasy friends have had to be rescued from the mammoth downpour !
And so - the dragon has fled -
because . . . .
The river was full to overflowing
- flooding fields, meadows, roads ,
leaving thick lumps of mud, non-negotiable...for plough,
tractor or human!!
The cows, sheep, pigs, horses - farm machinery, tools were stored under wraps in strongly built-
sheds.
Here, in the garden - the Elves
burrowed in rabbit holes, took refuge
in mole hills, in the garden shed and the kitchen
I had hardened my heart but,
finally took pity - Every creature in the garden,
(fantasy or no), I invited to harbour in my
costly-warm, "safe house . . . . "
The Witch, I'd forgotten, however, the scratching on glass, soon
brought recall to my soft-hearted mind .
. . .
The soaking wet creatures -
ghostly or not, were stunned and wordless. Silence prevailed. Only the Ghosts possessed the
ability to never get wet . . . .
I set my loud alarm clock to watch Autumnal planetary movements and, then writing a discourse, using my favourite descriptive
words . . . .
The residents of my garden, were
occupied, choosing their favoured part
of the dewy, freezing lawn or the Oak tree or
kitchen garden, or,
indeed, the house . . . . !
I, too, put down markers where I
wished to smoke my pipe. Should Elf, Goblin, Imp or Pixie
be so rude as to try to share, I would blow a cloud of pipe smoke
directly in his/her face . . . .
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front
of the wood I think the Witch
has indeed created a new year spell!
Despite their inclination to
achieve the unmentionable, I shall research a suitable New Year's
present for the Elves!! The Witch, I respect - indeed, I
quite like her . . . . The Faeries? They're OK,- no problem, bar the Unicorn!!
Today, the Birds of Rhiannon have
flown in to sing - enchanting sweet, melodic refrains, joined by the Woodpecker, Red
Kites and Owl!! (Melodic it may be . . . .
rhythmic it ain't).
My sister, bless her cotton socks,
is visiting me. Included are visits to family and
old friends . . . . The Witch has hidden, the Unicorn, too.
The Faeries are pretending to play
Hide and Seek. (The bravest of these is perched
on her head). I shall plead a heavy work
schedule - perhaps she'll do "the right
thing". If the ploy fails to achieve it's
intended result, I am absolutely convinced that the
Witch can dream up a New Year spell
. . . .
Then, maybe, we can settle down to
some thoughtful work ! Debbie & Peter
6th " WITCHY WEDNESDAY
" We have taken down the Christmas
decorations, thrown away the Christmas cards, but - today is actually Befana, and this
is when we celebrate knowing our Italian
friends.
In olden times, the Italians
celebrated the Witch who brought them presents, coming down the many
chimneys . . . .
So, we have to send a local lad to
tame our Wyvern. We don't want him to eat the
Witch, do we ? We want a wonderful start to the
year ! Calendar now available here >
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front
of the wood our fantasy friends continue to squabble !
The dogs were behaving as though
they could not wait to bite an Elf. The Elves, for their part, thumbed
their noses, stuck their tongues
out, made faces . . . .
I hurried the dogs to the garden
gate, from where we walked down the
muddy lane. I knew full well that, as per
usual, both would need a (much hated) wash-down in the old tin tub . . .
.
The walk was great, the bath less so. Breakfast
followed, then - a pipe!!
The ancient most Elf was clicking
his dentures, the others? . . . . were blowing
bubbles
into the ether. The Witch, a spell on the tip of
her wand, decided to pour detergent all over
the lot of them.
The Faeries were sitting upon the
holly bush, resting after a soaking by
the magical Unicorn . . . . (They never did remember that he
really did take pride in maintaining
his appearance!!)
By the way -
I'd constructed a barbed wire
"walk the dogs way," to avoid further contretemps come
hell or high water . . . .
My holiday had passed in luxurious
peace and, it was now my dearest wish to remain master of my sanity,
amongst these garden occupants . . . .
Debbie & Peter
5th " PREPARATIONS TUESDAY
" The year unrolls yet more, the
studio mobilises.
Time to make paint, sharpen
pencils, prepare rucksacks.
Time to ponder, the year ahead . .
. . . . . Calendar now available here >
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front
of the wood our fantasy friends were still full of New Year
tantrums !
The days, obviously, raced by .
. . . They always do when one's on
holiday(?) Why? Of course you all know why!!
The charming Elves, Imps, Pixies, had, most certainly livened up the
action!? I'd reached the end of
pretending, that nothing untoward was
happening . . . .
I'd spend each, and every day, doing what I most enjoyed - like Macavity, the cat!! (T S Eliot, poet)
The Witch had hidden herself away
in the walled garden - too many Elves doing fisticuffs
with the Ghosts . . . .
The Owl had taken flight for a
voyage around the countryside. The Faeries simply pretended not
to have noticed . . . . and I?? I took my pipe out and had a few
puffs . . . .
The Ghosts were eventually
declared the winners, mainly because the Elves got
bored, ceased to pay attention!
The highlight of this early a.m. was a visit from the Goblin's
first cousin, once removed, who created
merry havoc, driving the Ogre to gnash his teeth, howl and roar . . . .
The silence of the house was a
most welcome gift!!
Debbie & Peter
4th " A MONTH OF MONDAYS
" The year begins, the world wakes
up, the month unrolls . . . . . . .
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front
of the wood our fantasy friends were full of New Year tantrums !
"Ye art my foes," the Ogre roared . . . . "What I want, I must have - whatever, and, whenever . . . . "
Apparently, the Witch, in error -
of course . . . . had cast a spell which enabled the
Ogre to drop by ? ! A problem, indeed, for the rest of
us . . . .
The Witch appeared contrite. We? Only one answer - The Ogre must be "put out to
pasture," by whatever means . . . .
Our dilemma was solved yesterday
evening, by dint of the Ogre being partial
to sangria!! Boy! An encore really must be counted
upon as the "saviour" Grand Finale!!
By last night I'd had enough of the behaviour of my invited guests, so - with supper done, they, one
and all, were marched outside . . . . the Faeries flew. I poured myself a good, stiff
Whiskey, sat back contented . . . .
My fantasy friends, to my relief, coped quite splendidly - quite
enjoyed the rain and damp, and spent
long hours splashing about, in colourful Elf wellies, in the
pools of
water, or taking noisy swims in the garden
pond . . . .
They played their version of Water
Polo. Synchronised swimming and
diving off rocks . . . . T'was a veritable pantomime - "The 100 Fantasy Creatures who
lived in a Country Garden."
A Very, Very Happy 2016 to you all
. . . .
Debbie & Peter
3rd " SALUTATIONS SUNDAY
" Wishing you everything good and
bountiful for 2016 !
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden in front
of the wood our fantasy friends were full of New Year Greetings !
Back . . . . at home and blisteringly cold . .
. . The Elves and Faeries, ghostly
Werewolves, and the Goblin had turned out in force to greet
me, the Faeries smiling, gently polite
- the others? Yes, they simply smirked . . .
. (except the Werewolves), and who knows what they were
plotting?
The garden pond was crammed with
reeds, the fish could scarcely move at
all . . . . I wondered how on Earth the
resident gardener had not noticed? . . . . I'd speak to him as soon as I
could catch him wandering round his garden kingdom.
Of course, the truth is, that I
knew, without a doubt, I'd landed feet first at home and
solo - so to speak. My sister had roared off to town .
. . . Debbie & Peter
1st - 2nd " RESOLUTIONS 2016
" Wishing you all the very, very
best for 2016 !
Meanwhile out in our magic studio garden
in front of the wood
things are, and have been
happening !
Christmas was? Interesting . . . . I'll leave what happened to the imagination! Arriving home, perhaps 'twill be a blessed gift?
The water, blissfully calm awhile, swirled and eddied, forming
whirlpools . Time for careful forethought -
swim or walk along the stream?
My magical friends, determined not
to be done down, plunged straight in without a
thought . . . . They rode the crests of the
in-coming waves, landing flat upon their noses.
So great appeared their sheer
enjoyment that I did the same with just
enthusiasm . . . .
So - I spent the day writing madly! For some strange reason
inspiration hit me fair and square between the
eyes . . . . !
What tricks and general
naughtiness my multifarious companions are now
up to? Causing me not one jot of embarrassment or, indeed, anxiety
. . . .
The sun had set, the stars were a'
sparkling, when, finally I set my pen down .
. . . Leaning back, I closed my eyes, sighed deep and long, then hit the coffee!!
A swim, a paddle, shower,
restaurant . . . . Bed called - I sleep !
Tonight, I'll drink to you - kind
friends, acquaintances, all ! ! Debbie & Peter
_
