No need for introductions, really. The art speaks for itself. However, since I'm gregarious, allow me to expound: Cole + Josephine is the brainchild of Nicole Sharp. She's a self-taught artist, and her work is both visceral and intelligent, with a hint of "Wordsworthian" whimsy. Every piece is like a stream-of-consciousness, as if a floating thought was captured mid-flight, which is manifested in the title of her works. I've included some of my favorite pieces below, but you can see more of her wondrous artwork on her blog or in her shop.
People have different motivations for reading and writing books. Mine was always, always about the story. Love of words? A close second.
I see stories in everything: books, pictures, music, dreams, moments, even scents. This morning, I stumbled across a treasure trove of stories...in a series of fashion photographs. I normally don't pay attention to fashion, but the rich and compelling story found in each frame, the lush and vivid colors, the hint of history and the mystic... it was all too fantastic to ignore. Enjoy.
It's been a long time since I devoured a book in one gulp. It was like a delicious addiction - I couldn't put it down. Lips Touch Three Times by Laini Taylor is an explosion of imagery, fairy tales, twists, pulls and pushes, tastes and sights, implications and delights. My normally rooted feet actually left the ground, and I was hurtled into a completely different world. I recommend. Highly, wildly.
You also get the absolutely stunning visual treat of Jim Di Bartolo's illustrations. I was transfixed by this book's cover, and was taken aback when I found more lush illustrations inside.
Ms. Taylor begins with a spin-off of one my favorite poems, The Goblin Market...
before transporting her readers to hot, sticky, and exotic India for a re-telling of the Orpheus myth...
and then finishing off with a tale of her own imagining.
I've been an aspiring writer for a while now, and have always wanted to play with The Goblin Market and the Orpheus myth in a number of different ways. To see Ms. Taylor play with these stories so lovingly, and so seductively, is inspiring.
If you haven't already read it, please do yourself a huge favor and read the book. I promise you that all your senses will be engaged.
P.s. In response to a special request...marshmallow madness!
It's MIA Monday - meaning, I'm going to be missing in action!
Missing in Action by Talented Child
Too much work, too much work. Don't you just hate it when reality intrudes on your creativity? Hmph.
Shall see you all on Tube-tastic Tuesday!
Yeeeeeah. I've been MIA a lot longer than I planned. I had to dig myself out of an avalanche of work with just a rusty ol' keyboard and dinky monitor. Still digging. I'll be back by next Tuesday (Monday's a holiday after all), clean and fresh-faced for you guys. Thanks for all of your kind comments of reality-loathing sympathy! Hehe.
Allow me to introduce Wicklow, the Merry Reader of Brigadoonberry (better known as my bookshelf). He and his band of friends have been my faithful companions for a year now. Lively, spritely, and jovial, Wicklow was a popular lad. As all library gnomes are wont to do, he read and read and read until the sun shone through the curtain veil. When he wasn't reading, he enthralled audiences with brave tales of tempests, labours, love lost and found, and of course, happy endings.
But Wicklow had a secret, one he hid deep in his heart. He was lonely. He tried to fill the emptiness in a million different ways.
He played hide-and-seek with Sir Dooley...
He watched Cake Challenge till his eyes burned...
He threw back pints with his best mates, Londonderry and Dublin...
All to no avail. No matter what he did, his heart still felt empty.
Until last night. When he met her.
Wicklow fell in love for the first time in his life. Having never been in love, Wicklow naturally wondered how he could get her to notice him. So, he began to devise ways of impressing her.
He thought, "Shall I write a sonnet?"
He thought, "Shall I play jazz?"
He thought, "Shall I sing of my travels?"
Yet, none of them seemed right. He was not a sonnet. He was not jazz. He was not a grand adventure. He was just Wicklow, a library gnome. And in the end, being the smart fellow that he was, Wicklow did the right thing. He showed her...himself.
And she was impressed by his honesty...and his herb garden.
So when the moon reached its zenith, they got married.
And had wonderful children together.
Now, Wicklow's heart is full and satisfied. And my bookshelf is filled with little readers eager to begin their lives as library gnomes-and-a-half. We couldn't be happier (or cheesier).
To love, literature, and lutefisk. Happy Valentine's month, folks.