The call of the seafarer’s fairest daughter

Sometimes the wonder of these wee beings who trust themselves into my stitching hands is overwhelming. Each comes giving of their unique essence and I am humbled and honoured to receive them. I realise that to write such things may seem contrived, but I know that they are not my creations, for if they were I would simply be stitching bits of cloth. I would not fall in love with them, nor would they show, tell, and at times command the direction of my needle and paintbrush.  My finger tips would not tingle and sometimes tremble and I would not feel astonished each and every time.

Sometimes they come and I feel as if they are just skipping across my palms on their way to where they will become complete with children in their play.

Sometimes though, they tell me their secrets, they surround me with their atmosphere and they awe me with a renewed sense of immense gratitude.

And so it was with the seafarer’s fairest daughter, who came when I was sitting on the beach.

 Her head surprisingly did not form so easily, and so I spoke a lot of love and encouragement as I shaped and held, and then when I could see her, I realised that she had wanted this slightly unusual shape, with her upturned little nose.... and long long before I painted it I could see her smile. Her hair too was not a usual choice for a blue sea girl, but she told me she love peaches the frivolity of fancy desserts…. Pavlova reminds her of the waves on which she twirls, when she is not doing the things that seafarer’s daughters must do, when she takes off the protection of shirt and hat and lets her wings flutter free as she dances light, racing with the white horses.

It's not that she does not love her hat, in fact she showed me her hat, which I had been sitting on at the beach while I stitched, she said ‘look!… my hat, it has a wave in the colour of my hair, and some blue too as my sea skin.’

Its not that she does not like the protection of her silk rough weave shirt, stitched almost by herself, or that she is not happy being strong, or doing the things that seafarers do….

It's just that sometimes she likes to barely really be, to become once more as the spray of the sea.

So when it came to forming her body and we found that her skin was a little misfit and I suggested that perhaps I should fix it, she said ‘no, this is me’ and I was concerned, and waited overnight, and then asked again, ‘but you are such a beauty, will it not detract?’ and she said ‘as you can, when you let yourself, see, my beauty is why my skin doesn’t quite fit me.’

Though I knew she was right I felt a need to explain, that this might make it harder for her to find somewhere to be. She in turn reminded me gently that she needs to live with those who can see her.

And I knew that to change her would be to render her lifeless. And so the seafarer’s fairest daughter has reminded me anew, that should my finger tips ever stop listening, only truly listening, the wee folk would stop coming, and I would simply be stitching bits of cloth. 

Perhaps imagination embraces the world to help it grow

Sitting on a shelf in a second hand shop my eyes saw a small empty glass box, but my heart saw this...

and then just for an instant I glimpsed 

So I bought the glass box and took it home to wait....and wait....

Until one day, when I wasn't even looking, the air stirred as the flutter of butterfly wings 

and my being wondered 

A few days later, I was sitting on a sunny step, when the gardener skipped through my stitching fingers, whispering that her ears needed to unfurl as leaves, so that she might hear the plants growing, and the murmuring singing of her baby seedlings 

Turning she offered to show them to me, sleeping sunbathed in her greenhouse 

 And the dear froggy who has made his home in the watering can

She let me hold each in my hand, the tiniest flowering babes I've ever known

And when she asked me to gently close the door, I wondered if I had imagined everything. 

Yet now as I look again, my eyes are in tune with my heart and there she is, this magical gardener settling her softly singing seedlings in the evening 

The Elfin Peddler of Wishes

Did you know that in Fairyland wishes happen differently? Some people may say they happen all back to front and inside out, but actually wishes in Fairyland go forwards, for they are granted before they are wished.

In the shelter of rainbows light, there dwells an gifted Elfin wee man, who listens to what dreams may come. Some say he hears through the rainbow curls in his hair, which reach out to dance in conversation with the breezes.

This Elf is known as the Peddler of Wishes, for he has a Peddler's Cart that he fills with fulfilling wishes for those who live in Fairyland.

His little daughter Elfie helps her father with this craft. 

When the Peddler needs to paint wonder into a magical learning book, his daughter helps by telling her storied to the pages.

When a sleepy bunny comforter needs to learn to hop, little Elfie shows how, while her father claps a rhythm.

And then together they carefully fill the cart

'Ohh beautiful mermaid' whispers Elfie, 'Are you going to befriend a wee sprite who would wish to learn to swim?'

And 'Ahhh little flower, are you to sooth the soft hearted gnome and keep him from wishing that he was bolder?'

Elfie climbs high onto her birch bark swing to sway above the fulfilling wishes, and away they go stepping lightly along a primrose pathway 

'Here you are little flower, the soft hearted gnome will find you here.'

and 'Dear little bunny you will help a sleepy pixy find some bounce.' 

 'While you wee sweet pea will give peaceful sleep to the spirit of the tree.'

 The Peddler leaves new boots at the gate of a fairy dancer who would soon have been wishing for them, for her old ones were running out of steps. The tiny gnome, who has been kindly holding the boots together, sees the teeny doorway under the fairies gate and slips inside to polish the crystal cave, which had been waiting unknowingly for him.

The Peddler places a purse of plenty amongst the strawberry leaves

And he helps the butterfly find a home where the flowers are awakening, he knows that soon petals and butterfly will be fluttering and floating.

Sometimes a fulfilling wish needs a little extra protection and so the Elfin Peddler of Wishes and his little daughter Elfie, take one of their rainbow silks and add a special covering layer.

And ever so often in his work of granting the wishes of fairyland before they are wished, the Peddler simply helps others share their heart's kindness. Today with his cart he helped a dear gnome journey from glen to hollow to nook of root, where she shared sips of buttercup tea and showed other dear mamma the pattern of her baby seed warming cloak. 

How happy the Peddler is to do his magical work and how lucky Elfie feels swinging gently as the day gives way to twilight and they turn their cart towards their home in the sheltering shadow of the rainbow. There they will wait and listen for all the dreams of fairyland that may come.

Dreaming inside the box

 I was lucky enough to come across a wooden box, a nice, square, seemingly plain wooden box.

But then, when the lid slipped just a little, I felt the tingle of a wishful dream dance into me.

Once upon a Silver Moon’s dream

Light butterflies dancing shimmer over the hills unseen,

But while she sleeps a young girl believes

And so feels the magic as it weaves.

Far and close she hears the sound,

Of a snowy unicorn prancing on mossy ground.

Then Silver Moon’s beam stitches slippers of shine,

That as a princess upon her unicorn the mountain she might climb,

Towards a rainbow of Earth’s crystal seeds,

Each colour an adventure that will need her good deeds. 

For several days the box and I breathed in reverie and then I let my needle in...

Once upon a Silver Moon’s dream

Light butterflies dancing shimmer over the hills unseen,

But while she sleeps a young girl believes

And so feels the magic as it weaves.

Then Silver Moon’s beam stitches slippers of shine,

That as a princess upon her unicorn the mountain she might climb,

Towards a rainbow of Earth’s crystal seeds,

Each colour an adventure that will need her good deeds.