Cornish Folklore

I have begun a new sketchbook project that is based on the myths and folklore of Cornwall. The wind has carried many tales and retellings of ancient history. I aim to visit standing stones, haunted coves and fairy dells, wild woodlands and sea-lashed cliffs. I will document my findings, collect fallen treasures and work on bigger and more detailed paintings.

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Pixies (piskies) are mythical creatures of folklore. They are considered to dwell in the areas around Devon and Cornwall, usually depicted with red hair and pointed ears, wearing layers of green and a pointy hat. Some say that the origin of the name pixie comes from the Swedish dialect pyske meaning wee little fairy. Others have claimed that due to the Cornish origin of the piskies the term is possibly Celtic. Pixie origins have also been connected to Puck; a mythological creature sometimes described as a fairy.

They are said to be helpful to humans, sometimes lending a hand with the housework. However, pixies are not completely harmless as they have a reputation for misleading travellers (lured astray / pixy-led), the remedy is to turn your coat inside out.
Pixies are said to be uncommonly beautiful; some have distorted and strange appearances, some have goat-like features and some are coltish in character.

Pixies are frequently confused with fairies, sprites and other creatures of the fae, but they are quite different. Most can be described as having heart shaped or angular faces, strong lines and a short stocky build (earth pixies). Air and water pixies are more slender and ephemeral. They range from child sized to a small tree dwelling size and are often ill-clothed or naked. They like to dance in the moonlight amongst the standing stones. A fairy ring of pixies, grinning from ear to ear under the haunting moon.


Excerpts from nature diary:

March 15th
Country footpaths, sunlit fields, daffodils growing on hedges, the most perfect stream with wild overgrown branches, fungi, ivy and lichen, two ponies at a fence, forty two white ducks on a pond, goats and chickens, mud streaked pathways, swans building their nest on a remote island, steps leading up to the cliff, gorse and heather, rabbit burrows, sea gazing, a mermaid cove.

March 24th
The scent of the ocean, riverfront houses, a peaceful village with narrow roads, the winding river of Helford, gulls flying the azure skies, moored boats, hidden creeks and footpaths, fifty four arduous steps that reach miles of open fields, newly planted trees, bird song, longing for boat rides on calm water to observe whales and dolphins.

A Wood Beyond The World

I call this place the wild wood, it is unruly and untamed. The trees sway and creak in the chill easterly breeze, the air is filled with strange voices, whisperings and foraging in the thicket.
After waiting expectantly for a goblin or wood sprite to appear, the raucous noise turns out to be a blackbird or song thrush scurrying in the undergrowth.
The forest floor is caked with dried mud and puddles of rain water, vines and ivy creep along tree bark and crisp browning leaves await the arrival of sunshine for nourishment.
An atmospheric stillness falls over the land and root tendrils snake around my feet as I follow the meandering pathway.
I step into the cave and the air shimmers. Silhouettes begin to form as I glide into a sylphlike ethereal veil; the otherworld.


Nature observations ~
A squirrel pauses at the foot of a tree to nibble on a nut uprooted from the soil of winter.
Horses graze in the pasture; a stallion and two adolescents.
Daffodils (Narcissus) scattered amongst the long grass, bowing their petaled heads.
A cluster of wild snowdrops hidden behind a fence.
The fluty song of a thrush as it trills happily from the bushes.
Leafy glades riddled with ancient mine shafts.
A vast pond full of water creatures; frogs, frogspawn, toads, eels, tiny fish.
Hazel catkins swaying in the wind and scattering golden pollen; a sign of spring.

The Woodland Wild / Feral Creatures and Birds

A Horned Creature

I have been aspiring to make faerie horns for such a long time and here are two pairs; Obsidian and Vampira. These horns are for darkling creatures with a penchant for the mysterious and sinister side of the supernatural realm. Next in the making are… horns for forest dwellers and swan maidens.

I will be opening an Etsy shop in the next few months and I wanted to thank you all for such lovely comments and well wishes.

xxx

Selkie Seas

Forever dreaming of the sea, it sings to me like a sirens song calling to Persephone. Hearken to the sound of music upon the wind, the sweet luring voices that will someday enchant a seafarers heart.
Twelve thousand feet beneath the water exists an unknown realm, where mythical beings dwell as if cast under a spell by a powerful warlock.
A tale that shall be told when all grows silent and the world is ready to listen.


Ocean ~

Tales of selkies and haunted coves, clambering over fallen rocks in search of seals slumbering in their caves, tempestuous waves, foaming water colliding against rock pools, lifeless fish lost to the pebbled shore, beachcombing for shells, feathers, sea life, a peregrine falcon hovering in the sky, the gloaming, soft ripples and hazy mists, wispy clouds, iridescence, the last of the sunlight lapping the shore.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Riding The Skies At Eventide

Riding The Skies At Eventide is a painting inspired by Carpathian forests and nocturnal creatures.
Lacrimosa the unseelie court faerie soars over the clouds, clinging to the furry back of her vampire bat Morte. Together they chase the inky black tail of night in search of fables.
Two onyx feathers are nestled in Lacrimosa’s hair, if she chooses, they will transform into rooks.
There is a small thatched cottage that lies deep within the trees, no one lives there but a secret lingers in the air.
 
Please view larger on black ~

ACEO's, Art and Faerie Horns

January ~

Watching the world become still with Winter’s grace, ebbing of tides, wolf moon, the ocean and the vast world beneath the waves, deep waters, sunrise at sea, bleak overgrown forests, cold winds, hibernating, breadcrumbs for the swans, forgotten paths, new journeys, capturing each moment, charles de lint stories, planet earth documentaries, gulls in the air, the watchful gazes of rooks, swooping birds, chimney smoke billowing into a sunset sky, sharing memories deep into the night, long fairytale dresses that shimmer in the sunlight, sand underfoot, deserted beaches, spell of Winter, fox trails, precious letters, nocturnal visits, owls screeching from the faraway trees, subtitled horror films, thunderstorms and the endless rain.

Miniature Paintings

Earth Mother

Lair of the Witch

There once was a witch from Frogpond
A small village with labyrinthine roads and nothing more
At the bottom of her garden was a weathered old shed
Enshrouded in cobweb and shadows of the dead

The witch was a hundred and eighty two
Disguised as a bright eyed thing
She drank potions and the blood of rats
Summoned to kill them was her ruby eyed cat

Seasons passed and the white haired harpy
Grew tired of spells and hexes
She set the lair ablaze and fled to a cairn on the moors
Her presence a distant whisper that lingered on the tors

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Happy 2011 ~ the year of the Rabbit x