The elves of Misty Glen have just now been told by their elder leaders that they must yet again leave their home and find a new place to live. The humans have posted signs and machines are coming to clear the land. It’s becoming harder and harder to find wild places, which are farther and fewer between. The elders are worried that the very old and the very young will not be able to make the journey. And what then? Is it only a matter of time before there is no wild wood, no place to call home?
#elf #fantasyart #fantasy #artforsale #fairy #elves #story #fairytale
Ellaby hasn’t seen or heard from his best friend in days. This was unusual and prompted Ellaby to go and stop by where Lem lived in a wonderful cozy home under the roots of a large old elm tree. It had belonged to many generations of his gnome family. It was right next to a stream where he and Ellaby would float paper boats down it, talk to passing frogs, and play with other creatures that lived along the merrily gurgling stream.
As I said before Lem had been missing for too many days and when Ellaby knocked on his door he heard nothing at first. But then his ear pricked up when he heard a weak croak, “Hellooo?” Lem quickly poked his head in the door and there propped up on a pile of pillows was Lem looking feverish and miserable.
“Where have you been?” asked Lem crankily. “I could have died right here and no one would have cared.”
“I came to see you as soon as I realized you hadn’t come to town. It’s only been a few days,” answered Ellaby in a soothing voice. He was very patient because he knew Lem was only ever cross when he was ill. “What can I bring you? …Some nice root soup or a warm compress for your chest? Some new books? Cough syrup? Witches Good for What Ails You All Purpose Elixer?”
“No,” Lem answered, “No not much …I just need some company… and a cup of tea… and maybe a slice of ginger root toast…and plump my pillows please…and open the window just a hair will you please…. a cold cloth for my brow…. and some of those flowers just down the stream would be nice… hmmm I guess that ‘s all.”
Ellaby looked at his friend and what he thought and what he said were two different things. He just looked at his dear friend and said, “Alright, in a jiffy. We’ll have you up and running around in no time.
Copyright 2014 Ann Gates Fiser All rights reserved
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#witch #fantasyart# #art #drawing #sketch #fashion
Before I get started with posting a new drawing and story, I just have to get an apology out of the way….probably more to myself than you unless you also had expectations about how often I would post. Anyway if you did have expectations, I am sorry that I have been a tad absent lately (A TAD??) How about only posting a couple of times in around six months! I know! Really that’s so disgraceful. Even though I am apologizing, I wish you to know that I lay it entirely at the feet of my recalcitrant inner child, or maybe my rebellious lazy inner teenager. Anyway the job hasn’t been getting done. So as the stern disciplinarian that I am …no? …..No, I didn’t buy it either. You see the problem is exactly that. The inner young one says I don’t wanna sit at the computer ! I want to go play! And being a pushover, I give in. Well no more. Times are changing! …..at least I think they are.
A Witch of Another Kind
This is Aurelia. And as you can clearly see she isn’t what you would typically think of as a witch. Girl’s got style. No old haggy black threads for her. The only concession to witchly fashion that she makes is in her accessorization. She carries the typical broom, which I will remind you is also her ride. I’ve heard through the grapevine that she’s been talking to some decorative artisan about bedazzling her broom with rhinestones and maybe a few semi-precious gems. A bit of gold here and a bit of sterling there. It will be quite impressive, but I can’t help but wonder how comfortable it will be. It would not be the first time that fashion got in the way of comfort. I think you ladies know of what I am speaking.. er writing.
If you are used to seeing witches with ugly old black pointy hats you will notice the exquisite chapeau that Aurelia is sporting. It’s a lovely lavender hand felted model adorned with exotic bird feathers, silk flowers and black and white striped satin ribbons. Rumor has it that she has a different hat for every outfit.
Well I could go on and on about the rest of her ensemble but I want to get to the really exciting part which is the fact the other witches are starting to sit up and take notice. Appointments are being made for manicures and facials. And very fashionable boutiques that cater exclusively to the witchy set are starting to pop up here and there. And you know what that means?! When a person starts to feel good about how they look they start to feel and act less crabby. So for us that means maybe a few less instances of being turned into toads and worse. I for one, am very appreciative of Aurelia’s trendsetting style revolution.
Copyright 2014 Ann Gates Fiser All Rights Reserved
Maybe you never thought about it, but even ogres and trolls have mothers.
One thing we all have in common- parents. And today we honor the yin, softer side of parenting. I know that an unlucky few would say their moms are ogres. But I’m fortunate to have a different kind of mom. What I love about her is that she is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. She has always tried her best to do the right thing, to be loving, kind and supportive of not only her family but others as well. She’s a brilliant artist and she is the glue of my family. I love you Mom!
© 2014 Ann Gates Fiser All rights reserved
If in your wanderings you have come upon a satyr or two, you will probably be in agreement that they are a most arrogant lot. They have a very high opinion of themselves when it comes to wooing and winning the fairer sex. They don’t feel like they particularly have to try very hard to get the attentions of fair maidens. Quite bluntly they are the “bad boys” of the fae kingdom. Of course in their defense many girls and women (who should know better) have quite literally thrown themselves at the feet of a satyr hoping for a kiss or two…or more.
Keep in mind that Satyrs are not the marrying kind. They will love you for a night, maybe even a day or two, but they will leave. And please don’t fall into the trap of thinking that if you love them enough, and do all the right things that they will stick around because you are so wonderful that they couldn’t possibly be satisfied with another female’s attentions. You see it’s not about quality for them, it’s quantity. It’s conquest. The moment you give in, you’re fate is sealed.
Knowing that, you might mistakenly believe that it’s worth a little pain of parting to spend time with him. But let me make this perfectly clear. It is you who will never be satisfied with the attentions of another man, a human man, a good man. No. You are spoiled forever. Think about that, before you go sniffing around a satyr. You have been warned!
©2014 Ann Gates Fiser All rights reserved
Tor Oatenleif was Fio Nogbottom’s best friend in the whole world. They had become friends as wee little sprouts and had mostly remained so, except for a few odd times when they had come to blows, competing for the attentions of a a beautiful lass. Luckily, for the friendship, they had finally fallen in love with two different women and now had children that played together as they had.
On this fine summer morning Tor , carrying water from the creek, has run into Fio, who is excited to announce that he and his lovely wife are expecting their third child. Tor laughs heartily and says that after he delivered the water he was coming to tell Fio the same thing. Both elvse are excited that their new arrivals will already have a friend to play with. Also to be honest it kept a tiny bit of resentment at bay because in all things, the friends were still rather competitive with each other, though in a good natured way.
© 2014 Ann Gates Fiser
I have often heard the pinnacle of modern men’s fashion, the tuxedo, called a monkey suit. It must truly be very uncomfortable judging by the speed with which the men in my life have retreated from them as soon as they possibly could. Not to mention the whining sound as soon as they are ensconced in one. Who hasn’t witnessed the fingers tugging at the collar hoping for a little breathing room? So I decided to draw a “true” monkey suit to show the guys that it could be worse, much, much worse. Not that I don’t have sympathy for what men have to go through. Because women have their torturous clothing equivalents as well. Girdles and spiked 5″ high heels for example. Which begs the question …why? Does fashion really have to hurt to be fashionable? Hmmm?