Eight legged beastie

There was a loud scream; it must have come from me, because that spider was a beast. Jumped onto my bed so it couldn’t reach me, and stood there for a whole 5 minutes, unable to move from shock. I haven’t had a very good experience with insects and arachnids this autumn; just the other day a fly drowned in my tea L Now I’m walking around wide-eyed, paranoid of every touch and sound… maybe coffee will help…
    Off to sew some feathers onto my straw hat, then I’ll put conkers around my bed, as I’ve found out that spiders don’t like them. Seems like we’ll get on well… -k 

'cause I'm evil...

-k x

extract from The Thicket Dwellers...

"The sun was throwing down its last rays upon the heather at a slant when Scarlet left the house, but the forest had already washed its hands of the day. She panicked that Rose might’ve become lost within the woods after running out like a hothead, and left stranded within the skulduggery of the trees." 

Goddess in the Land*

This myriad of suns

do bleach my bones,

my eyes - eggs of quails,

my teeth - hard as stones.

My blood is milk,

my body - glass,

my hair - long and wheat-yellow

like that of  burnt grass.

*Inspired by Seamus Heaney's bog poems - Nina x

Shut out the light...

I've lit all the candles in my room, and switched the light off. The streetlight outside my window is glowing bright too, yet I feel hollow. I used to be afraid of the dark when I was little- now it’s soothing… I can hide from reality; it can get overwhelming at times.
The candles are casting curious shadows; There’s one that looks like a unicorns head, but I’ve realised it’s just the radio… k

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece...

...is the name of a book I read recently that I fell in love with, and today this sweet little paperback version came in on the delivery at the bookshop where I work (my world is the bookshop, anyway). It's so adorable, I had to share it with you. Go forth, and buy!! 10 year-old Jamie tells the story about how his family is broken after his older sister Rose died in a terrorist attack, only he was too young to remember. I love his voice - it's incredibly funny at inappropriate moments and ridden with guilt for not being able to care about a sister he barely remembers, and is full of the kinds of things you'd expect real 10 year-old boys to say, like when his family moves to the Lake District, he says of it: 'It's so different here. There are massive mountains that are tall enough to poke God up the bum...' Most of all I like how he adores his older sister, Jasmine - Rose's twin - and sees how it is she who keeps the family from breaking apart, even though she reminds their father of her dead sister. 

Here's a snippet:

 - Nina x

long long day...

      Another cloudy day; alone, bored, tired… I want to go to the river and feed the swans, but I’m too ill. I’ll just stay in and draw for the rest of the day, maybe sleep a little first… k xx

Kristin Oftedal

I was thrilled when my badges came in the post from Kristin Oftedal in Oslo! I love her artwork, especially because it portrays that relationship between animals and humankind that holds me captivated so.

Raven Girl

The girls on the badges are so beguiling and fairytale-like with clandestine expressions. I try and imagine what these characters would be like. And I love the soft touches her pencil brings, especially to the bear cub, below. It might just be that she draws all my favourite animals: bears, cats, birds and deer, alongside their feminine counterparts.

Bear Cub

I first discovered her work when I was searching for an image of Thumbelina, when I saw her sweet one of Thumbelina hugging a tired sparrow. It is the cutest thing. 

Thumbalina

And trawling through her website I came across other images that I thought were really cool, such as the image of PJ Harvey and John Parish, who just happen to be my favourite artists.

PJ Harvey & John Parish

I would love to write children's stories one day where her images would adorn them. I find her artwork very inspiring. So pay day found me on Etsy, where she sells her artwork on mirrors and badges. Other Etsy finds I'm yet awaiting is this lovely impish-looking necklace of a squirrel eating acorns by Brass Hussy.

                 

Oh, the little things ;) Nina x x x

Wake me up when Spring is here...

Winter’s coming so I’m going to hibernate soon; I’ll dig out a burrow to stay and line it with feathers and dried flowers to sleep on. It would be nice if I could shrink myself down to the size of a cowrie shell, then it would be harder for people to find me, and I could sleep day and night till spring, and only come out when it snows to make tiny snow angels and button-sized snowmen. -K J  

extract from The Thicket Dwellers...

"The bricks of the wall were rough and jagged and Mary slammed Rose’s skull against it with such force that she felt sure something had cracked, and her body stiffened beneath Mary’s grip. She gasped for air that didn’t come. Her eyes were wide but everything was going blurry. She could feel blood trickling down her head, dripping down her neck like egg yolk. Mary leaned over bringing her face close to Rose’s.

     ‘Don’t you ever, ever go near my boyfriend again, do you hear?’ she said, low and steady, her eyes crazy-like. Behind her they kept chanting.

     ‘Tatty Rose Tatty Rose Tatty Rose!’

     Mary took a step back and spoke louder. ‘He won’t want you anyway. He doesn’t like ugly girls who piss in their knickers.’

     Everyone laughed harder, sneering at her with looks of amusement and disgust. They couldn’t see the blood. They couldn’t feel the tightness of her throat. Their faces were merging into one twisted blur, reforming again, dancing around her vision. The chanting became a slow deep drawl as if one unnatural voice rose from all of them, then it would go back to the many regular voices. Mary’s mouth was so wide when she laughed, so full of poison and spite and teeth that, when Rose saw her for a moment before other hideous faces moved in her view, she thought maybe Mary wasn’t laughing at all. Maybe she was opening her jaw so wide it would dislocate like a snake and she would swallow Rose whole, leaving her in her belly of bile to burn.

     Where was Skye? And where was Daniel? Among all the monsters there were no friendly faces; and as she searched the crowd, still desperate for air, her vision went black, and her body limp." 

Last of the Wild roses...

The other day I was sitting on the back step admiring the garden. I noticed the Dog rose was weighed down with masses of red rose hips; only one flower was in bloom, in amongst a cloud of red berries. All the other roses had wilted long ago, and I think it’s the last bloom of the year... Bye-bye summer...

    -k xx

    

Rose hips, the harbinger of Autumn

My portrait taken by Katie last Autumn: my favourite time of year. I come to life, somehow, as the world slowly dies...

An extract from The Thicket Dwellers

"Rose said nothing as she seated herself, but looked from one to the other in wonder. Why is there a social worker here to see me? Her heart started thumping wildly, as though a rabbit foot beat against her breastbone.

     ‘Rose, I’m afraid I have some bad news,’ Ms Harvey said. She said it straight away, no hesitation. No time for Rose to draw breath. ‘Your mother was involved in a car accident late last night. She is presumed to be dead.’

As the woman said the words, Rose watched the crows that dressed the grass through the window behind the headmaster. She watched them pull worms from the earth; watched the worms being pulled, stretched, before they sprung out and the ground let them go. Rose watched as the crows grew. Yes, they’re getting bigger it seemed, she’d watched them so hard. They must be ravens. No, they’re men with black heads and black wings and black bird’s talons, and they were turning their heads, their large, pointy black beaks that held the worms that wriggled and writhed still, and they looked at her.

‘Rose, did you hear what Ms Harvey said?’ Mr McKennitt asked gently, bringing her back.

     She looked at him. His face was still shadowed, like some messenger, some grim reaper. But the beams of light outside faded away and his human face appeared. She shook her head, although she did hear; and already she felt her eyes would break their waters like the pregnant clouds outside." - N x x x