A Daughter’s Wishes

Sometimes when I’m writing my stories it helps to give myself a visual reference to keep my descriptions of the clothes and the people consistent. That wasn’t the entire reason for this particular painting however, it was the distillation of the cliche of what “all” girls want-to be a princess, to have a horse, etc. It was also a stab at the Art Nouveau style I love. I was particularly inspired by the work of Alphonse Mucha who happens to be one of my all time favourite artists of that era.

I love how his posters combine realistic people together with organic, floral designs and landscapes with text. His art feels like the montages we made in art class, only better. I would love to have the strong design skills that he had. I think strong design skills make fine art better.

Until next time, draw, paint, write and enjoy another excerpt from the novel I have been writing featuring Erika:

The coliseum was dark, but the bright lights and colours of the silk and wire sculptures pushed back the darkness. The fragile sculptures illuminated the black felted path just enough to prevent tripping, but not enough to take away for the amazing art exhibit.  In the quiet, hushed environment, small groups of people stood reading the little plaques and signs, quietly discussing the art on display before them.

In the wide aisle, Erika stood looking straight up, watching the pegasus soar across the jet black night sky while Icarus fell tumbling down to Earth, his wax and feather wings melting in the heat of the orange silk sun.  She was for a moment transported out of her world into the world of fantasy.

Claire came up softly behind her and put her hands on her shoulders, whispering softly in her ear, “aren’t they lovely Erika?”

Mildly surprised at her sudden entrance into her consciousness she replied, “yes, they’re incredible,” Erika smiled, the shock melting away.

“They forgot one.”

“Forgot one?”  Erika glanced over at Claire out of the corner of her eye, still focused on the art.  “Which one?”  There were many legends left out, but that made sense, the theme of the whole exhibit was meant to take you along the Silk Road where you encountered different stories and amazing creatures you’d never seen before, putting you in the shoes of the original travellers.  Robin Hood would be just out of place.

Claire gently took Erika’s arm and led her over to the unicorn that tossed its head as it pawed the ground, surrounded by fairies and giant snowdrops.  “The Masie.”  She whispered mysteriously.

“The Masie? Who are they?”

“You mean, what are they?”  Claire gently teased her.

“Okay, then what are they?” Erika asked, eyes twinkling with laughter, Claire’s good humour was catching.

“They are horses that look like regular horses, except they are only ever spotted grey.”  Claire led Erika along the winding, carpet padded aisle, “and they have a superpower.”

“And what is that?”

“They can travel from planet to planet in search of fresh grazing without getting hurt.”

“Oh?”

“But,” Claire stopped them at a scene with four dragons in it, each a different colour, “some think they are real, but extinct, others think they never existed at all.”

“Really?”  This perked up Erika’s ears, this brought the Masie from fantasy into reality which was very intriguing.  “Why do some believe they might be real?”

“Some people have claimed to see spotted horses grazing in their pastures when they don’t own any horses, who suddenly disappear into thin air when the farmers came looking for their cows.  Others have said they have found bones of horses on planets that no longer support life and so on. . .”

“Cool.” Erika looked at Claire in surprise. She was impressed.

“Yeah, I think so too.” Claire put an arm around Erika, changing the subject, “will you be seeing Terry and Cymone anytime soon?” 

“Not for a couple of weeks.”

“How are they doing?”

“They’re doing alright.”  Erika stepped along carefully through the drapes that blocked the sunlight from entering the arena.  “Cymone broke her ankle.”

“Oh, dear, what happened?”

Erika briefly narrated the story of how Cymone was on her way to an interview when in the parking lot, she stepped on the edge of a pothole and twisted her ankle.

“Let us know when you’re going down, I could drive you and see how she’s doing.”

Erika looked up at her and smiled softly, “I think she would like that.”  Then she asked, “how’s it going with Calluna?  Have you heard anything?”