Inspirations, Illustrations, Imaginations

I THOUGHT IT TIME to pass on a few threads of inspirations that I have received from other lovely people hiding in the hills of blogland. As I have mentioned before, I'm not a keen passer-oner of "awards" and things like I'm s'posed to. But I do appreciate those given to me and in turn, I will from time to time show you some lovely things I've found on my web burrowings.
Morna, Erica, Ciara, Jo, Lindsay and Terry have all been so kind as to give me little blog awards recently, and so today I wanted to show you some artists and their illustrations that have made me smile and feel inwardly connected to them.


A little while ago Victoria Usova contacted me to ask if I fancied doing an illustration swap, which I hardly ever do.. but this time, I felt something warm and familiar in her illustrations, and so after much trouble choosing, decided that I would like this Foxy Fox watercolour original on the left to come and live with me, in return for my Button Mouse travelling over the sea to New York. Victoria is a Ukraine-born New Yorker and said of my work that "your painted world seems close to mine, but more in the evening or nighttime. Perhaps we travel to similar locations just during different times of the day." I liked that.
She has a "Chest of Fairytales" etsy shop here and flickr page here where you can see her enchanting works. For me they have a playful sunniness and very distinct Russian flavour which is delightful. This Foxy Fox will be framed and enjoyed on the wall of our truck.


Next I wanted to show you the wonderful otherworldly paintings of Yoko Tanaka. She paints a muted Other world peopled by strange beasts, surreal objects and melancholy tales. Yoko was born in Japan but moves from country to country, having been educated in the US and living at present in Thailand where buffaloes stroll around the house and cranes fly over the nearby Mosque's call to prayer. On the right is her painting Remnant. Do take a while to wander her world, which I feel very drawn to, here.


Thirdly, another Japanese illustrator, Yuko Michishita, who is currently studying in the UK. The inspiration for her fine pencil drawings dwells in an interest in folklore and nomadic ways of life and she says of her work that she has always loved "meticulous patterns of Asian traditional costumes, shades and shapes of trees, furry animals and human faces that look slightly like fish", and is greatly influenced by these likings. This illustration to the left, Apples Be Ripe makes me smile no end ... and includes lovely wonkyness, detail, colour and lettering. Do have a look at her work here.



And lastly but not leastly, Oliver Hunter, a young Australian artist whose work I have known of for a little while through Endicott Studios. His imaginative, surreal and strange mythic world gives away his obsessive and cerebral imaginations and love of tale and spirit. I find his creations extremely evocative, and a little influenced by the character of the world conjured in Terri Windling's book The Wood Wife. On the right is his painting After the Hunt. Those of you who are aware of Goblin Fruit, a relatively new online mythic poetry magazine, will have seen his work there. He also has a little "Cupfull of Oliver" website here, and there's a fascinating write up about his work, background and inspirations here at Endicott.

Thank you to all those people who have sent me words of encouragement and told me that my work makes them feel familiar strange things ... these kind nods lift my fragile self confidence enough to keep me creating. And thank you to these artists whose works make me feel these familiar strange things too.

A seafaring door

THERE ONCE was an ordinary door
With dreams of seeing the shore;
A porthole came by
And said "I'll be your eye,
Through me you'll see seagulls soar!"

This is one of the busynesses I have been up to lately (apart from writing silly limericks)... click on the picture for a larger version.
It'll be the front door at the back of our wheeled home when we've removed the tailgate.
All we need now are some nice hinges and handles and suchlike... do you think it'd be silly to have a letterbox too?

The Visitors

SEVEN STRANGE folk have arrived at an odd little chicken-roofed house hanging in the branches of the forest, all clutching baskets for the tiny old lady. And what's in them nobody knows ...

The Visitors is my new painting for the front cover of the lovely new fairytale magazine Les Bonnes Fees. And each basket will take you to a different section of the current issue... The magazine boasts a fabulous collection of fairytale fiction and poetry and articles on such things as hair and spinning.
This way to begin your wander.
They have also kindly done a wee interview with me too, which you can read here.

And for those who feel inclined, The Visitors can be carried off in a basket from my shop here.

Lost Things

THE GREY LIGHT of a shivering Scottish June day is trying its best to make its way through our deep set windows and cheer the house as best it can. There's a faint flappity-whapping sound outside of coloured bunting strung up for a village gala, and I am indoors with a hot water bottle and the warm feeling of a just-finished-book.
This book is one that called to me from the bookshop shelf with its thorn-silhouette cover and a quote by Picasso that I had coincidentally just recently painted:

"Everything you can imagine is real..."

The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly is a delicious delve into the world of fairytale, imagination and books. It is the story of David, a quiet boy who is trying to come to terms with the death of his mother, and the new family that takes her place. He retreats into a semi trance-like world of his own creation peopled by crooked men, knights and beasts, enchantresses, wolves and worse-than-wolves. Written like all good tales, there's a quest and all sorts of encounters along the way. I was particularly delighted by the more gruesome aspects of the story, where Connolly has drawn upon pre-sanitized versions of fairy tales for his inspiration. Particularly dreadful was a huntress who made child-animal hybrids so that they would be more challenging and swifter hunting quarry, and The Crooked Man who is an incarnation of Rumplestitskin and who makes terrible bargains with children before plucking out their hearts and eating them, and then storing their souls in a jar on a shelf in his lair in order for him to remain alive.
Included at the end of the book is an excellent collection of notes by the author on the various fairy tales that were woven into his, and on the meanings behind them.

The dedication at the beginning concludes:

"For in every adult dwells the child that was
and in every child waits the adult that will be"

Today, too, there is another lost thing: my painting Soup & Pipe is winging its way to a new owner far across the seas and I am a little sad to see it go. It was painted last year on a lovely slice of wood found in a jumble sale, and these two bent old friends might be Tui and I holding hands by a log fire one long-away day...

Orla Wren Films

ORLA WREN as you may or may not know is the name of the beautiful music that Tui makes.
Indeed, his second album, The One Two Bird And The Half Horse, the making of which took him through two years, around tender sounds, over hoorays and in and out of sorrows, is now complete and ready to whisper into ears far and near, and an astonishingly beautifully crafted creation it is. I am full of admiration for this work that I have seen in its birthing, and I will write more about this one day soon when this music is available to be heard, and glad the world's ears will be then.

In the meantime... we are making films for the music. My cut-out wonky-handmade stop-frame animation will be for one track - The Fish & The Doll, and it is emerging slowly up in the animation attic day by day. Another film is just about ready, made by Tui for the last track The First Born Daughter of Water from little pieces of film from my childhood.

Here you can see some tiny snippets of stills from the first scenes of the animation and stills from Tui's film where layers of inklings of glimpses of my younger days are merged delicately to compliment the music.

We would like to ask if any folks out there might have some old footage that they would be happy to send us to be used in a similar way. A unique collection of hints of people's stories would be woven together to make a wonderful film or two to go hand in hand with this music. Please drop a word to orlawren@gmail.com if you can help. Thanks muchly.

The Concertina Eggcup Song

A BROTHER for the Button Mouse, sitting in an eggcup, playing the concertina ... and why not indeed!

The Concertina Eggcup Song
... balancing deftly here in the shop.

A barrel stove day

OUR WHEELED HOME is growing bit by little bit into itself. While I sit at home in the animation attic moving little bits of paper and making paintings in between, Tui spends his days down in the sun and wind and horsebox, sanding and sawing and hammering and building and making a home.
Since the acquisition of this Bedford, we have been collecting some lovely ebay finds for it, including the recently fitted round window, a copper kettle, a little belfast sink, some lovely old leaded windows from a demolished chapel in Wales, and a brand new barrel stove!
So yesterday was spent admiring Tui's lovely new door and "seasoning" the new stove outdoors with a little fire made from the offcuts of wood.
It is lovely to finally have this vital ingredient, every home needs a fire! You may notice that we have no chimney yet... we need to put down the floorboards before we know the length of stovepipe needed.
This is a long slow process, and expensive... each time we make a little money, it goes on wood and screws and silicone sealant and sandpaper. But bit by bit, it is feeling more and more like ours. We've developed a little rather old-fashioned routine where midmorning I bring a pot of coffee and two cups down to the spot where Tui is working and we sit on the tail gate discussing our mornings' works, and looking down the hill towards the stream where goats peck and chickens bleat.



PS .. the spiders have blown off!!

Also today, I was pleased to catch an interesting programme on Radio 4 about one of my favourite albums: Just Another Diamond Day by Vashti Bunyan, who made it whilst on a horse-drawn waggon journey to the outer Hebrides in the 60s before choosing to disappear into obscurity. For me her wobbly gentle songs and guitar tell lovely tales of a simpler life with a strange warmth that obviously comes straight from the feelings that went into making it.

Little Yellow Stowaways

WHAT IS THIS strange yellow bundle clinging to the wheel-arch of our Bedford?


This Scottish June has brought us yellow all around.. yellow gorse along the roadsides, yellow buttercup-blanketed fields and these little yellow stowaways on our truck.
This silken nest of new scuttling spider babies is just one tiny corner of the arachnid population that has taken up residence in our home on wheels. In between fixing down floors and mending fuel tanks, Tui has had to wrestle with his spider terror every time one of these lodgers is disturbed by his screwdriver!
For some reason, spiders love our Bedford!


(click on that picture for a closer view!)

I leave you with a superstitious spider rhyme in German:

Spinne am Morgen
bringt Kummer und Sorgen
Spinne am Nachmittag
bringt Freude am dritten Tag
Spinne am Abend
erquickend und labend


(Translation:

Spider in the morning
brings grief and sorrow
Spider in the afternoon
brings joy on the third day
Spider in the evening
refreshes and nourishes)

Myths & Magazines

I HAVE BEEN on the lookout lately for a good magazine. For me this is quite a difficult thing to find... It needs to have amongst its pages some or all of these things: well written stories, strange ephemera, book reviews, art that is not arty, old objects, interesting articles about interesting people, nicely designed pages, non-mainstream music, geekily obscure academia, lots of good photographs, enough reading to last a few weeks and delightful inspirational things that can be savoured! I have found some excellent contenders recently, which I would like to share with you.

Firstly, there is the wonderful Illustration Magazine, a quarterly publication of all things illustration-y: interviews with artists, book reviews, articles on historical illustration, book arts, and introductions to newcomers to the field. I was particularly excited about an interview with Wayne Anderson in this spring's issue, a very favourite illustrator of mine.

Next in line we have an intriguing magazine that has been around for some time I believe, and yet I had not until now discovered the treasury of visual delight within. Raw Vision magazine is a journal of outsider art, "art brut" and contemporary folk art, which is to say, art that has been made by those who on the whole do not consider themselves artists. Spring's issue contained strange woodcarvings, hand made gothic follies made from found materials, "devil houses" painted by a prisoner, drawings and paintings by outsiders and madmen and many many more visual wonders. It is a real find.

Lastly another new discovery: Cabinet Magazine. This one's hard to categorise.. a quarterly that covers art and culture but resides in some quirky corner. This issue boasts articles and images about such things as sloth, opals, victorian fitness machines, clockless time, snowflakes, nineteenth century female naturalists, and the mysteries of stones. And there you have it!

Online magazines are another beast altogether, and becoming increasingly popular. I was saddened indeed to read today of the closure of Endicott Studio's Journal of Mythic Arts. Written by Terri Windling and Midori Snyder, this magazine has been a real library of myth and magic to inspire tale-lovers and dreamers like me who had no place to sit and read like this before, and I would like to thank them for supporting my work amongst the other delights that graced Endicott's pages.
In their final farewell post, Terri and Midori pass the torch of online fairytale and folklore journaling to a host of wonderful places, which I look forward to exploring.

This brings me to introduce you to Les Bonnes Fees ~ a brand new fairytale and folklore magazine which will be launching in June with one of my paintings on the front cover.
And here it is in progress....

Rogier van der Weyden

IT IS BUSY here, a house of paintings and cistern-leakings, album finishings and off-to-town sellings, so in the meantime I thought I'd leave you with a favourite piece from a favourite Netherlandish painting... the beautifully painted and beautifully sad close up of Mary's weeping face in Rogier van der Weyden's Deposition.
A happy weekend to you all ...

Witch Bottle

OVER THE LAST few days this Witch Bottle will have been crossing some of your house thresholds. So I thought it time to introduce her, and tell you why her crossing your threshold might have been quite a horrifying thought had you been living centuries ago. She is painted with oils on burr walnut wood and the idea is based on an old English folk magic, evidence of which has come to light in the rebuilding and renovating of old buildings in recent years. The practice of making witch bottles dates back at least to the 15th century and is a form of apotropaic charm (i.e. one that wards off evil).

If someone believed that they were the victim of a witch's spell, they would take an old pot-bellied bottle, often made of blue or green glass, or a stoneware container known as a Bellarmine (named after the rather dreadful bearded face that decorated the side of these bottles, which reminded folk of Cardinal Robert Bellarmine who was a persecutor of protestants and labeled a demon), and fill it with various curious ingredients...
First the worried spell victim would drop in some bent iron nails or pins, then some of their own hair, and lastly their urine. Sometimes other items like thorns or pieces of wood, nail clippings, stones, bones, ash, menstrual blood, oil or coins were added to this. Then the bottle would be corked and buried in a significant place. Many witch bottles have been discovered underneath the hearth stone, hidden in walls or at the threshold of the house.

The idea behind this was that if a witch was sending her spirit to harm you, she would most likely try to enter your home through a doorway, chimney, or other entranceway. If there was a concoction made from your own bodily fluids in her way, she would turn her attentions on that, presuming it was you and get herself caught on the bent iron nails. It is thought that in the case of bellarmines, the frightening face on the side of the bottle would further ward off evil.
So if there appeared in the nearby vicinity someone with a dreadful sudden affliction or who experienced terrible pain whilst urinating, then it was likely to be the witch!

Archaeologists have found only four bottles still completely intact with evidence of urine and hair and all sorts of other delights within. In fact, these witch bottles were often thought to explode on the death of the witch, so perhaps these are cases where the charm did not work.
If you are interested in learning more about strange popular superstitions, dried cats, old shoes and other Things Hidden In Walls, there are some excellent articles here at Apotropaios, where you are invited to send details of any odd things found hidden in your walls and under doorsills.



My witch is currently hiding here under my etsy doorsill, waiting to tell you her tale.

Mum & Dad

I WOULD like to tell you a little tale of my beginnings ... because I was brought into this world 28 years ago by two wonderful artists, who have passed very valuable things onto me. Not only do I have their eyes for looking at things and their art in my blood, I have seen through them that it is necessary and possible to make one's own work and a living at it. I know that I am lucky indeed to have a rich childhood treasure chest in my head to draw upon: of being surrounded by sculpture and art, of interesting places, of Bedford van travels across Europe, of strange bedtime stories, and of being a little different from everyone else.

My parents continue to make their art in their home, and have recently dipped their toes into this strange 21st century web world ... with a website, etsy shop and blog where you'll see delights indeed. To celebrate this, I thought I would show you some of their wonderful works and give you an idea of the inspiring household in which I grew up... with these creations on every windowsill, stair and shelf.

My parents met in the 1970s in the plaster room of City & Guilds of London Art School where my mum was studying sculpture and my dad teaching it...

My mum grew up in the wilds of New Zealand and finds much of her inspiration in memories of those hills and the nature there... She trained as a nurse before travelling through many countries to finally arrive in the UK to study sculpture, a discipline that was long bubbling in her, even as a child scraping clay from the riverbed to make forms... an example of this on the right, a young horse laying on its side, which she made when she was only 9.

My dad was born in South London 10 years before the second world war, and on being asked what he would like to do when he grew up, would answer: "either a fighter pilot, a priest or an artist!" This last choice seems to have endured all his life, with a particular focus on his love for woodcarving. He has made a great variety of works in stone, wood and clay over the years, making figures for churches, architectural stone carvings, lettering, and a great body of his own work, in varying styles.

I remember vividly the curls of wood on the floor of the workshop when I was small, and the smell of resin, and learned at a young age about the progression of a piece of art from its beginnings as a piece of wood, through many stages, agonies and hoorays to the final work.

From my mum amongst many many other things, I have inherited a sense of colour, design and form, and a fascination with people. My dad has passed on to me, amongst many many other things, a love of the medieval, words, wooden things and wonkiness.
And I know that I am privileged to have such masters of the field as critics and encouragers... and I would like to thank them for always inspiring me, for this art in my blood and for truly knowing me. I hope that I can create works as beautiful as these one day.
Please welcome them and spread the word of their masterpieces...



The images on the left are my dad's work and on the right, my mum's.

The Game

I THOUGHT I'd show you an interesting little something which I made a few years ago as the final piece on my Book Arts & Crafts degree...

This piece is an ancient opening casket board game with an accompanying book which tells a story. The story, which I have written in rhyme, is set in a ‘Dark Age’ land not unlike England, and describes a man’s journey around his land in search of its people’s lost happiness and to overturn the evil king. Meanwhile two children dig up an old game and begin to play it. The journey takes a year and a day and as the main character travels, he passes through the four quarters (seasons, directions, elements, and times of day) which echo the four corners of the game and meets important characters on the way. Each move in the children’s game is mirrored in real life and a desperate battle between the rich few and the downtrodden masses builds momentum. The characters’ names are all Anglo-Saxon words which all have particular significance to the story. A glossary is included at the end of the book.

The story encompasses many themes –

~ The struggles of ordinary people under the rule of the dishonest rich and powerful, and a dream for equality, justice and a voice for us all;

~ My love for the earth and anger at its destruction;

~ A search to find value once again in life’s simple truths;

~ An exploration of ancient Pagan beliefs and Dark Age ideas about the world;

~ Ideas about balance and the wheel of life – accepting both life and death, day and night in all things;

~ A longing for a time before cars, concrete and all things industrial and corporate;

~ A desire to reawaken a love for stories and recognition of their importance in society.

The Game

The rules of this board game are based on an Anglo-Saxon game, ‘Hnefatafl’ popular in this country between about AD 400 and AD 1000 when chess arrived. It was carried here from Scandinavia by the Norsemen who were continuing an ancient tradition amongst the northern European tribes. A more detailed history is contained within the accompanying book. This game is appropriate to the time in which the story is set, and the opposing forces are of unequal size and have different objectives. This ties in with the political theme to the book.

Board games in ancient societies played a significant role over and above that of mere entertainment. The grid or chequerboard pattern has been described as a form of cosmological divination, representing the land, the universe, or the human body. The central square, as in Hnefatafl, signifies the city or the navel (indeed the word ‘hnefi’ - the king-piece - is also thought to be cognate with the word navel). Often this central point in a country was marked out by a sacred tree as in Glastonbury or Carmarthen, or a stone as at Tara. This place is one of central convergence, often the setting for fairs and obviously in the case of cities it is the seat of the ruler. The rules of Hnefatafl require that for the king’s side to win, the king must reach the edge of the board, signifying his complete dominion over the land. The opposing larger force must capture the king.

The Illustrations

The illustrations are based loosely on a gospel page illumination from the Book of Durrow (St Matthew's Gospel Folio 21v). This manuscript was produced around the 7th century at the monastery of Durrow, County Offaly which was founded by St Columba. Saint Matthew is depicted with a chequerboard body, echoing the idea of the board game/body, and the decorations are examples of Celtic and Pictish design.

The Font

The font design is based on alphabets in Anglo-Saxon manuscripts and other illuminated gospel books like the Books of Durrow and Kells.

The Board

The board is made from spruce wood, stained and antiqued, making it look as if it has just been dug up. It is decorated to echo the illustrations from the book and each side corresponds with the four directions, seasons, elements and times of day. Each gift given to the main character by those he meets on the way is illustrated on the four sides. The board also displays symbols from the Ogham – an ancient magical script – the Celtic equivalent to the Runes. Each Ogham letter relates to a particular tree and time of year and is correspondingly displayed around the board.



And here is an extract from the story:

...In warmer days the greenness came
As summer fullness smiled;
In contented, heady, pregnant air
Our Faran’s time was whiled.

Then around a corner one midday
Beside a meadow sweet
Came fiddle music, frisking-fast and
The sound of tapping feet.

Faran neared, intrigued to find
A flabbergasting sight ~
A motley stranger, red and yellow,
His costume chequered bright.

A wood contraption round his shoulders,
And hooked onto one end
A wobbling little whimsy-man,
A dancing puppet friend.

As the jester played the devil’s tune
And jigged all up and down,
It caused those puppet feet to tap
Of the wee lopsided clown.

By his side, a patchwork knapsack,
All bulging, tied with twine;
Some strange light from out the bag
Mysteriously did shine.

Faran tiptoed, quite bewildered
Closer to the gleeman;
‘How-di-do?’ The stranger asked him,
‘I s’pose you must be Faran?’

His face was funny, his eyes were fiery,
He’d a lilting, joking voice;
The puppet danced whene’er he moved
Because he had no choice.

‘My name’s Fyr’ grinned the jester,
‘I’ve come to join the dance;
Come sit awhile beside me here
And play my game of chance.’

The harlequin, ungainly-tall,
Sat his bright body down;
The wood contraption clacked and rattled;
The puppet seemed to frown.

So Faran sat and watched in awe
As the motley-magic-man
Reached inside his coloured sack;
And wild his blood it ran.

Out came dice and playing cards
And curiosities
And jumping beans and dominoes
And candles, tricks and keys.

And tiny phials all filled with fire
And stones and beads and sticks
And rare glass balls and wooden spoons,
A mad embroidered mix!

Chancy games and fateful tricks
The harlequin did play;
And all the while the puppet watched,
Not one word did he say.



Copyright © Rima Staines 2008

Sunlight on windows and water

THE SUNSHINE has been glorious these last few days and Tui and I have been out delighting in it. Down the lane a bit and round the corner is the place where our horsebox is parked, and there we've been spending our days toasting our noses and getting sawdust-sweaty working on our home on wheels. We've been up rickety ladders adding the first Very Exciting Thing to the lovely Bedford ~ a round window that hobbits would be proud of! It's a swiveling-opening delight which we put four quarters of glass into and now it lets lovely sunlight into the bedroom-quarters to be. And since there are no hobbits about, we're being very proud of it ourselves!
And then after a cup of coffee on the tailgate I leave Tui to the sanding and climb down the steep hill to the stream below to sit and paint while the swallows swoop happily past almost skimming the surface of the water and an interested mother sheep and her two stripey-legged lambkins visit me closeby.
Yesterday I fell asleep in the heat of the afternoon and woke with my head in the oil paints!
So today I ventured down there with a pencil and sketchpad instead to draw imagined interiors for our home-to-be. And when I wasn't drawing, I sat by that cold Scottish splashing rushing stream in the hot May sun and read a frosty arctic tale of hot air balloons and bears in Philip Pullman's newest book Once Upon a Time in the North, featuring lovely little wood engravings by John Lawrence.