My Wee Folk

We write our thoughts in blogs.  Sometimes we write late at night, when it's quiet and safe enough to reveal our innermost feelings or suspicions.

I live in a woods.  There are very old trees, interesting rocks and hillocks of tufted grass and twisted briars.  I have planted flowers everywhere but I have kept the wildness as best I can.  And since it is late, and I feel safe telling you this, I think there are other small creatures living here besides me.  Mice, raccoons, coyotes, deer, possums, rabbits and wee folk.  This place is magical, so it doesn't surprise me to have things go missing and turn up in other places.  I grew up with an Irish / German mother.  I had Irish nuns as teachers in grade school.  So it follows that I believe in fairies, and being familiar with them, would want to make them.

I have sculpted a lot of animals, people, buildings, flowers, all kinds of stuff but the wee folk are a challenge.   The wings are the thing.  It is difficult to make them look transparent.  They must look like they can lift off at any second responding to any startling sound.   And boy fairies, or I mean elves, must be like curious little boys, full of mischief and turtles and dusty leaves.  I am really enjoying them.

Please let me explain something to you that I am sure you will want to know.  Animals, people, fairies, birds, um, well they hang around in my head till I make them.  I had a couple dance in my head one evening years ago making so much noise I had to get up and go sculpt them if I was going to get any sleep at all that night.  It is the same with these fairies.  I think that I have figured it out, though. Sometimes it takes me a long while to sort a sculpture out technically.  Often I can "see" it in my head, but I can't quite figure out how to make it stand up, or what it will be holding, etc.  It has taken me a many years to  understand how to sculpt a standing fairy.  But finally, the magic happened.

I am really pleased.  Her wings are folded down so she can stand.  She has a dragon fly perched on her head.  And boy she sure is smiling (and I suspect thinking) "Let me out of here, it is about time!"


So you see, wee folk do live in my woods, in my studio and in my heart.  It certainly pleases me  to help them cross over into this world.  They seem to be pretty happy about it too.