Art&Ghosts Blog

Secret Girls (part 3)....

The third and final installment of the Secret Girls series : with additional text by Marinkel. The following images are just a random selection of the 23 works that make up the completed set.

Model : Charlotte-Cherry (secretdoll yomo)

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Secret Girls #8

Tantalizing whispers traveled from wall to wall

and she just sat still

listening

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Secret Girls #3

and all the waiting sent her daydreaming

of beaches and of summer shells

of the girls who had led her down a path

to a secret garden

among the dunes

whose guardian had been neptune

where orpheus had been playing

his songs in red

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Secret Girls #12

they tumbled to earth

without sound

softly

visitors in the night turning to day

though they had wished

to remain beyond the clouds

just for the turning

of the hours

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Secret Girls #4

sudden ruptures released

dreams of flying

and though someone had dreamed them before

to her

they were new

aurora

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Secret Girls #1

it is not like the one you found at the treetop

but more like

the balloon

you have been chasing after

leading you to distant ports and harbors

taking you away from home

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To see more of the Secret Girls set, please visit the collected album.

You can also see more of Maren's exquisite writings at her blog, and her artworks here.

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End of playtime

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Yes, the model in the above photograph is Otto, Charlotte -Cherry's most recent fixation. It has lasted all of 48 hours, which is a novelty in itself!

I have no idea whether Dylan (royalatelier) or Otto for that matter, actually know anything of this...but I dare say they will now, so they are simply going to have to put up with it.

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Not Horses

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Check out his shop for more work, whilst familiarising yourself with such curious characters as his 'lonely aristocratic children' (!)

Okay, I think it is time I signed off for the night (dawn light beckons me to sleep)....and Charlotte-Cherry is attempting this very moment to lecture Mirlo about the merits of not chasing small winged creatures, bathroom beetles and wind up white mice.

It does not bode well.

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Perhaps she ought to have spent the evening more constructively (if you can discount daydreaming about poor Otto), reading her lesson books, for example, or else admiring her great-great-grandmother's ornate little pill case whilst conversing with Samuel Pig (he's slinking around in the background there..)

xxxxxxx

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SecretGirls .....(part 2)

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Afternoon Poem (images removed fro the meantime)

A poem for the afternoon.

The barely audible ticking of the glass domed clock on the mantelpiece. The occasional tink of teaspoons playing against china cups. The drifting lilt of birdsong and the subtle shifting of limbs beneath voluminous skirts....And our dreams have quite suddenly become tangible, waiting for the magic hour.

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A faraway Song

A faraway song, heard only by the youngest child.

A timid, benevolent soul, her sisters say that she was brought to them by the fairies. A changeling with lilac coloured eyes. How could she be human? her sisters say.

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Parlour Games

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And when we grow bored, we will invent new games. Someone will always have count to one hundred and sixty, whilst not looking, as the rest of us clear off in search of the perfect place to hide. Our house has so many large and unused rooms, so many long and curious passageways, that it is ever so easy, sometimes, to find oneself quite lost.

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Parlour Games 2

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But finding oneself lost is almost always the best part of all. There are doors in our house that disappear the moment you step through them.

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The Visitor

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Who only appears by the light of the moon. Her lily-white, translucent skin emits its very own, peculiar glow. Enough, just enough, for you to catch a glimpse of her, before she melts into moonbeams and your memories of long, long ago.

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Queenie

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They nicknamed her 'Queenie', for how terribly she behaves when she cannot have her way.

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...........................................................

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They say that if you are lucky enough to catch a falling star, you must place the star inside of a silver locket that has been kissed by moonlight, right beside a picture of the one you love the most.

I did.

And the logic to this will remain unknown for ever...

Model - Secretdoll Yomo

Her glorious frocks - Dollmore

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I keep dreaming about dolls these past few nights. I cannot recall them too well, but they do leave me with the rather strange sensation of having stumbled upon something extraordinary. My dreams are not always, nor are they usually, extraordinary, so this is quite a delight for me.

More to come! xxx

SecretGirls....

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Inhabit secret worlds.....

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Ce Matin La

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A safe new world, where there are no limits to how far one can wander in dreams and in love.

The title taken from a track by Air, from the album Moon Safari.

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The Princess

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The Indigo Princess is an only child. Her heart belongs to the ravens. She sleeps upon a mattress of moons flowers, where each night she dreams of friends she has never known.

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Porcelain

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The fragile romantic is bound to follow her hearts desire. For better, or for worse.

Yet what shall become of the heart that wanders too far?

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Rosette

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Rosette courts serendipity, and all that she touches springs to life.

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The Summerhouse

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A ghost story.

The Summerhouse, long since deserted by its human inhabitants, now becomes a haven for lost souls.

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Attic

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They reside in the attic. Sometimes they share stories, fairytales and secrets at dusk. And sometimes they share kisses, as children do, and their kisses taste of cinnamon and love.

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The Fireside Mysteries

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Whatever became of the stories read by firelight? She said.

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Model - Secretdoll Yomo.

She inspires such darkly, delicious things:)

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I must also share this wonderful, exquisite book of drawings by Julie Morstad before I slink away to sleep..

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Milk Teeth

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Until next time............SweetDreams xxx

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Lessons in Dreamtime....

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Of waking dreams. And the spaces inbetween.....

Some new works.

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Miette

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Miette. Small and sweet (French). Inspired by my own childhood. My love affair with the twilight things... those darkly, most potent spaces between the hours in which only a child can discover such enchantments. Those fleeting moments when the spectral light of bluebells deep inside of the wildest, darkest woods can still your heart with wonder. When the hoot of a small owl or the curious thrill of a sudden breeze is enough to convince you of the eternal presence of all unseen things .

Twilight : a passport between worlds. 

Miette knows.

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Lessons in Dreamtime

 

There had to be a school for the Magician's Daughters. And this is it. Neither here nor there yet everywhere. Magic is and always will be...a little weird.

These girls like cake. They are remarkably studious, despite their aura of dreaminess. Dreaminess is essential to a magical education. Without it there simply is no magic.

The Conjurer

 

Another for the Magician's Daughters. This is a close-up detail. She is actually walking the tightrope whilst performing. Such a spectacular little lady she is.

The tightrope was rather a foreign concept to her up until last week (Tuesday to be exact) before a certain smarty-pants recruit at the Art&Ghosts Circus dared her to give it a whirl. She turns out to be something of a natural, all things considered.

Thanks so much for visiting, as always!

Lou xxxxxx

The Strangest Little Girls in the World...

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A very quick hello, and a couple more curio's....

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Tilly

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And Stella (wood)

 

More soon!

xxxxxx