Friends, so sorry to have been blog-neglectful! I aim to mend my ways in 2016. Here's the Morrigan, Celtic battle goddess, shape-shifting phantom queen. She just got lucky and won the popular vote competition for Infected By Art (IBA) Volume 4. Thank you, everyone who participated!! So honored. There is a great deal ofastonishing work to see at Infected By Art, and the book will be incredible!
The Morrigan, mixed-media, about 19" tall.
Banshee, back view
Banshee is wearing a shroud, or my idea of one. As you can see from the back, walking would be difficult. I wanted to imply some other, less familiar, mode of locomotion...
She's an 8 inch figure in Kato Polyclay, dressed in washi paper. Hair combing is something Banshees (when they are not wailing, I assume):
Banshee combing her hair
An old Selkie. Rather, an old picture of a young Selkie -- done perhaps ten years ago. Ink, watercolor pencil, with unorthodox (even uncouth) use of watercolor. Arches Hot Press paper, off a block, Caran D'Ache watercolor pencils, which are great if you favor drawing over painting, but desire colour.
I aim to do some more Selkies, in two and three dimensions.
The White Birds
I WOULD that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea:
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can pass by and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,
Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that never may die.
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose,
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:
For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam—I and you.
I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more:
Soon far from the rose and the lily, the fret of the flames, would we be,
Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea.
~ William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)
The Daughter of Lir, again, with a hand for scale. Tech note: you can see the brass rod extending from her hip -- it fits into a brass tube in her base (partly seen, lower right) and also can hold her steady when inserted in the material of choice (moss, for instance).
Just a quick image...
This Swan Maiden was inspired by the tale "The Fate of the Children of Lir." I was fortunate enough to travel to Ireland, and see some of the areas associated with this story (more on travels with Jungians when I have my brain polished up).
Here we have a pair of beings sculpted in Kato Polyclay, and Aves Apoxie Sculpt.
Flidais (the more human of the two) would be about 8 inches tall, standing. She
holds a staff of gold-filled wire, copper foil and goldleaf, with bead berries.
And then there’s social media, of course: