Some stories cling to you and the more you try to shake them the more they seem to rut in, like a song that pesters you relentlessly throughout the day.
Other stories I believe are the making of us, they are the foundations stones and the food of our early years. In a time before our own memories and speech we are fed folk stories and fairy tales at bed times. The last thoughts of the day are of heroes vanquishing dragons, and the wolf becoming undone. These in time become our very substance and moral tableau, the ground from which we have evolved into adults.
Personally I like a tale that has the texture of salted leather and enjoy the darker brush stokes of stories. Perhaps this comes from Jack and the Beanstalk (giant killer and thief) or Red Riding Hood (she knew, I know she knew, I am sure she knew, didn't she?) Or the tale where the witch spins the golden fleece for the imprisoned princess, and her hands turn black with spindle grease (a tale of broken hearts and broken promises where there is honour in just the word.) All these tales have dark hearts and confusing morals, I think the only true moral of a fairy tale is that not all tales have morals!
In my mind folk tales and stories are there to challenge you, to hide behind half truths and fractured memories. They are shallow and foolish, beguiling and tragic, subversive, evocative, under estimated and over looked but mostly they are haunting, and they haunt me gladly.
In my mind folk tales and stories are there to challenge you, to hide behind half truths and fractured memories. They are shallow and foolish, beguiling and tragic, subversive, evocative, under estimated and over looked but mostly they are haunting, and they haunt me gladly.
So there is a competition from illustrator Jackie Morris She has released a challenge, prompted by questioning children as to what lies within the little bottle that adorns her. Jackie has set a competition which we have decide to pick up the gauntlet and also pass it on...
So what do I believe is captured in the bottle?
Grease for the cold spring in her leg iron, for without it the joint would stutter and seize, sending hot humours to her heart, which could crack asunder like splint glass in a trice ,and then where would we be?
For a peek into the creative world of Jackie Morris and her studio do take a look at Drawing A line in Time. Here you will find details, where you too, can enter her delightful competition. Also books by Jackie and other intriguing artists can be found in Number Seven Dulverton.
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