Ode to Autumn

Here is my

'Ode to Autumn'

created to wish you all a glorious autumn and to 'hold' my Post page whilst I am away in the North of England next week, doing library workshops ..... which I love to do, so it is no chore and very energising.

¡Hasta luego!

A Discovery

I am back again, having slightly neglected posting, indulging in other writing and some painting. But I do want to share this, however odd I may appear.

Look at what I have inadvertently come across - an archaic word -

'Hornswoggle'

I can picture it already but, alas, it is a transitive verb; slang for to cheat or to hoax.

However, I can feel it developing a life of its own as a necessary character in 'Discovering Jasmine T' (third book in the 'Violet Jelly' trilogy). I need this wily creature to confuse and mislead. It will appear, slithery and impish, out of the ether.

I share my first tentative scribblings of the Hornswoggle .......

Photo for One Moment

Emergent creatures

One Morning

Out of the mists of time mountain dens become dragons' lairs whilst the Indian legend sleeps on his rocky outcrop.



The sun rises



Awake, the Indian lies, face to the dawn sky and dragons' wings beat breath of fire onto the morning air



Montgo is the mountain that I see daily. The sleeping Indian is at the edge of the outcrop in the first photograph. He is in the middle in the third, with his chin, lips and nose upwards to the sky.

These are musings from photographs taken .... early one morning.

Webs

I was thinking of webs, of gossamer and intrigue, the intricacy and precision of each finely spun thread



Web ... web ..... a web of lies and deceit - a trap - insidious entanglement; a state of languishing - fustiness; cobweb - flimsiness of texture; SPIDERMAN! .... and not forgetting THE WEB - a complete structure or connected series.

Spanish - la telaraña

Irish Gaelic - líon damháin



Webs spanning the visual, the literary, the functional and fantasy

Webs to delight, spun by night and captured very early one morning

Followers

Ultraviolet Butterfly

This is posted as a 'Thank You' to all who follow my posts; it is wonderful knowing that you are out there.

Short Break

Just to say that I shall be back after 14th September.

Until then, here is a Northumbrian Red Squirrel, courtesy of a friend, to keep you company -



¡Hasta luego!

Memory Bank

Continuing with memories, I shall share an excerpt from 'Violet and Lavender' .... because ... just because



“Are we going to Memory Bank?" asks Pansy Soup. She feels excited. In her mind she sees Memory Bank as a large cave echoing with memories, “but it probably isn’t like that at all,” she thinks and shivers. She turns to Larry.
“I wouldn't like to find bad memories,” she whispers to him, “especially not in a cave.”
“Then we won’t look for them,” whispers back Larry. “I think that it's a bank. If it is, the memories will be locked away.”
“I don't want to travel on another watermelon, Violet Jelly,” shudders Lavender, interrupting Pansy Soup’s thoughts about memories. “That situation was far too sticky and striped.”
“Let us see what Laptop suggests,” answers Violet Jelly. She types in ‘MEMORY BANK'’ and presses ‘RETURN’.
A soft, damp mist comes down. It is refreshing and cool. The middle of the mist turns warm and feels cosy. They each become drowsy and light - so light that they float.
“I,” thinks Pansy Soup, but she is too drowsy to begin her thought and she drifts in the mist, mind and body.
“Lull - a - bye....,” Lavender's voice sounds out softly and slowly through the mist.
“Bye,” whispers back Violet Jelly.
“Zzzzzzzz....” Larry is snoring, until...
“Oyez! Oyez!” bellows a deep voice.
‘Clang! Clang!’ clangs a large, brass hand bell.
The cacophony of noise brings Larry to his senses. He rubs his eyes and thinks, “It’s my ears that are sore. I should be rubbing those.”
“Ooh! A Town Crier! I remember those days............”
“Do you remember when market stalls had coloured awnings?..........”
“The memory of Market Square - all the exciting sounds and smells..............”
"”here are these voices coming from?” Larry puzzles and looks around.
The mist is clearing. He sees Pansy Soup stumbling sleepily towards him.
“Is it morning, Larry?” she calls out.
“I can’t answer that,” Larry tells her, “but where are these voices coming from?” he asks Pansy Soup.
“I thought I was dreaming them,” she calls back still moving towards Larry.
“I don’t think so,” says Larry. “They are all around.”
“Move along!” orders a voice that sounds as if it is coming from a megaphone. “In FILE, please!” and, “You cannot stand there!”
Larry looks around for the second time.
“Is it speaking to me?” he wonders.
“Pansy Soup!” he exclaims and grabs her arm. She is about to stumble past him.
“Two of you!” the voice remarks loudly. “FILE UP!”
“Where are Lavender and Violet Jelly, Pansy Soup?” Larry asks and then he sees them drifting in his direction, still resting in soft mist.
Pansy Soup and Larry move forward to meet them. Pansy Soup taps Lavender on the shoulder, in case she is asleep, and Larry gives Violet Jelly a gentle nudge.
“We are at Memory Bank,” says Pansy Soup.
Violet Jelly and Lavender smile and stretch. The mist dissolves and they find themselves standing beside Larry and Pansy Soup.
“Oooh!” coos Lavender. “Lemon Curd and plump, fresh strawberries.”
“For tea, when we were young,” responds Violet Jelly dreamily.
“But not together,” states Lavender.
“I was remembering,” recalls Violet Jelly, “when we were children.” She smiles broadly.
“So was I, Violet Jelly,” says Lavender. “It was cool and green in the woods, with a mist of bluebells.”
“I was there, too, in my memory, Lavender. We took cinnamon biscuits and lemonade.”



And here we leave them to the rest of their adventure.

And leave you with thoughts of daisies

Gate of Dreams

I consider this 'my gate' with thoughts paused to gaze ... and in the distance, memories

Memories of standing watching
Memories of the warm smell of goat and donkey
Memories of soft muzzles, rough coats
Memories of evening walks, soft tread, and excitement at the rustle and rootle of hedgehogs, intent each on its own scuttling path

"Memories," speaks the gate to my mind, "to evoke time spent, long gone, but memories remain, linger on

Harmony with Bats

Sitting, whilst evening transcends day, sipping a cool glass of white wine as birds retreat and bats swoop, flit, is special - calm and relaxing;

a time to share
a time to reflect
a time to feel joyous for all that has gone before;
the character building ups and downs of a life -

definitely a time to relax and reflect with a cool glass of white wine

Queen of the Pixels

This was my favourite hibiscus, so flawlessly yellow.
It has since died.
Because this hibiscus is from our first days in Spain,it evokes nostalgia, excitement and the sense of adventure that beginning a 'new life' brings.
But ... there is more!
this hibiscus inspired 'The queen of the Pixels' (a character in my book Violet Jell.
A book needs a queen, or similar, and this is how my thoughts and photographs entwined to create her.



I used this photograph, which I rotated. I cut out the part I wished to use and placed it onto a transparent background in Photoshop.
I drew in her silhouette face, popped on her small shoes and pulled forward her hood to shroud her.

And here she is - returned resplendent to her hibiscus throne.



For me, that my illustrations each encompass a part of my life gives them a deeper meaning, as a part of me lies there, too.

Sheep Recipe

More fun ... a remnant from a 'woolly' life in Ireland.














Sheep recipe

Full, fat, woolly fleece
rolled to shape.
Ram in four blackthorn legs,
scooter ears,discoloured acorn face
complete with mechanical baa
in varied pitch.
Multiply by forty or fifty
and place on verdant green
smooth hummock-hill.

There leave your flock of sheep
to safely graze the
pasture opposite your eye;

to butt and race wool-wobbling
daily rituals, whilst you,
behind confining window,
perform a daily ritual;
watching them.








** And today marks an occasion - my book 'Violet Jelly' is now for sale on amazon.com - so I hope that many 8-80 years, plus, will read it ... for fun! **