The Love Bug

There’s a caterpillar in my tummy,
He’s all fuzzy and he’s warm,
I think I’ll leave him be,
He isn’t doing any harm.

I’ve called him the love bug,
For he should have a name,
Because since I’ve discovered him,
I’ll never feel the same.

He feeds on all my troubles,
And chews them all away,
and creeps up through my body,
To wriggle on my brain.

He nestles between my heart strings,
It’s here where he sleeps,
if you listen carefully,
You hear him snoring when it beats.

I know that if I was with you,
He’d crawl up in a cocoon,
And I’d feel the marvellous feeling,
When the butterflies start to bloom.

– only wrote this in the last half hour and not sure about illustrating it! But if you have an illustration of a love bug! Let’s try some re-blogging! yey!!

Origami and Organdy

I apologise to my poetry readers for the fashion related posts, I will get back to that later. But this is my imagination and I believe creativity should never be limited and I am all for thinking outside of the box! I would also like to say a huge hello to everyone new and who checked out my last post, welcome to my imagination, make yourself at home!

I wanted to share my college work with you. In particular the previous ‘Secret Garden’ post as well this. I’ve always loved making things and the more complex the better. This is my scarf project and complex would be an understatement!

The brief was ‘Opposites’, to make neckwear – experimenting with print, shape and/or colour. I should explain the way my imagination works is if there is a box with the obvious inside I’m jumping on top of it like a deranged rebel punk, the obvious doesn’t appeal to me at all, and so the cogs started turning.

During researching how I could manipulate fabric I came across an artist called Rowan Mersh, an artist who uses matchstick and Vinyl records with black and white stretch fabric. He’s totally unique. I focused on his work with spheres for this project but if you have a minute, totally check him out!

Origami! Somehow my mind took me to how could I make a ball? after a little bit of research I began experimenting with kusudamas. These are a kind of paper decoration ball made up of flowers. 1 square of paper folds to make 1 petal, 5 petals make a flower, I’m unsure how many flowers make 1 Kusudama, but I tell you it felt like 100’s!

Now it’s one thing making it out of paper, fabric is a different story – organdy was the only thing that worked. To the left are the results, both balls are complete Kusudamas, don’t try this at home… can cause iron burns and dreaming of origami!

Givenchy’s collection at the time (spring/summer 2008) had featured some Elizabethan ruffs, so I experimented making these too, it all had to be hand stitched and the amount of fabric you need is never-ending!

So this is the result, my creation. It took a great deal of work and it looks a little obscure but it is only a concept piece. If you would like to see how to make a kusudama I have include an image of instructions, courtesy of google images!

The Secret Garden

I remember, growing up reading The Secret Garden by Francis Hodgson Burnett. This classic novel left such an impression on me, the book was beautifully illustrated and lets admit, who wouldn’t have loved to find their very own Secret garden?

In 2009 during my college fashion design course we were set the brief of ‘A Midnight Picnic’, to design an outfit suitable for such an event. Of course the obvious came to mind… the bold brash colours and eccentricity of Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland. But It just didn’t feel right, I didn’t feel passionate about it. Then a surge of excitement took over me… The Secret Garden, that was to be my theme.

  I was excited and enthusiastic, out came the old book and it was the perfect excuse to get re-aquainted with the movie. It was one of the best Sundays I’ve ever had!

I’ve got  a strange fascination for old keys, they’re something so rustically beautiful about them, you may be able to see, I have used these as an
embellishment, how could I not? this is the secret garden after all!

I should point out that I love historical costume, anything from the 1910’s and earlier amazes me, the intricate seamwork and decoration turn me into a fashion geek, so you can understand my excitement as I began researching the costumes of this time. It was all about the puff-ball shoulders and empire lines for me!

The colour was obvious to me, midnight blue!! and the satin worked with the gold embroidery making me one happy designer!

When it was finished, we set off into the woods and I roped in my photographer friend and pretty model and we took these photo’s that I wanted to share with you today.

I was overjoyed with the results, it’s not perfect, but it’s mine!

Hope you like! 🙂

All That Glitters Ain’t Gold

“Sometimes,’ said Pooh, ‘the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” – A.A. Milne

I sat on one drizzly day,
Just looking through a box,
It’s filled with just worthless trinkets,
But to me it means  a lot.

This box has remained closed a while,
For no one else to see,
For the treasures hiding inside of there,
Were solely just for me.

I glow when I open it,
And when it’s in my hold,
Because memories are indeed,
Worth more to me than gold.

There’s some photos and some tickets,
Which I know are only paper,
But they’re special times with special people,
And I’ll look at them all later.

I don’t look in here very often,
But every time I do,
I remember, I laugh and cry a little,
Cos reminds me all of you.

The most important thing inside of here,
Is the great big empty space,
So I’ll move on and pick up the pieces,
So new treasures can fill this place.

The Trouble With Geraniums

A stone set in the labyrinth of Alnwick Gardens, it reads – only dead fish swim with the sea.

I discovered a new poem today that I would like to share with you. The author is Mervyn Peake, a fantastic poet and I have placed his book ‘A book of Nonsense’ high on my list of things to buy. He is also illustrator of classics such as Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland, The Swiss Family Robinson and Treasure Island, but I would like to bring to your attention ‘The Trouble With Geraniums’ simply because I love it…

The trouble with geraniums
is that they’re much too red!
The trouble with my toast is that
it’s far too full of bread.

The trouble with a diamond
is that it’s much too bright.
The same applies to fish and stars
and the electric light.

The troubles with the stars I see
lies in the way they fly.
The trouble with myself is all
self-centred in the eye.

The trouble with my looking-glass
is that it shows me, me;
there’s trouble in all sorts of things
where it should never be.

– Please note this is not my own work, poem can be found at http://www.mervynpeake.org/poet.htm
– The photograph is my own

The Fairytale of the Tooth People

Watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who do not believe in magic will never find it
– Roald Dahl

Have you ever wondered?
Why a fairy would want some teeth?
To sneak under your pillow?
And swap for 50p?

As my tooth began to wobble,
And wobble as teeth can,
I thought up a new idea,
I hatched an evil plan!

These fairy folk that invade my bed,
And take things as I sleep,
I will catch these thieving creatures,
And ask about my teeth!

I wriggled, I prodded, I brushed, I bit,
Until it fell right out my head,
And I popped my little pearly white,
Under the pillow on my bed.

I lay that night with eyes tight shut,
Pretending to be asleep,
Soon, maybe, I might have caught,
A fairy of mine to keep!

And caught I did, in a jar,
My fairy that very night,
I peeped through the glass,
As I sealed the lid on tight.

These Mythical fairy people,
Are not as expected they’d be like,
They’re wrinkly and quite ugly,
And about three inches in height.

She wasn’t pink and pretty,
Or as cheerful as they say,
She was a tiny little old lady,
In a magic kind of way.

So I got up really close,
And looked her straight in the eye,
I shouted “you have took my tooth”,
“And I want to know well… Why?”

She didn’t answer my question,
But instead gave out a grumble,
“This isn’t going to be easy”,
I said with a sort of mumble.

So I brought my fairy a cupcake,
To offer a kind of truce,
But she turned up her little nose,
And said “that will rot my tooth”

I told the tiny lady,
Help me if you please,
To solve this little mystery
And I promise to set you free.

“It’s strange to me – A human,
Why imps would steal a tooth,
But please tell me the reason,
I’d like to know the truth.”

She looked at me through her glasses,
Which rested upon her nose,
Then she sat upon a thimble,
And said this it how it goes…

I will tell you tiny human,
All you want to know,
The story of your teeth,
But then you must let me go.

My fairy people need me,
And there’s plenty to be done,
So set me free by sunrise,
Cos I’m allergic to the sun.

As she told the story,
She whizzed around my room,
And told me that her people
Live right up on the moon.

I listened to what she said
But it came as a bit of a shock,
“You cannot live on the moon,
Why there’s nothing there but rock!”

”Hidden in a crater,
In the shadows and the dark,
Rest our fairy village.
And it’s called the fae park.”

That’s nonsense I repeated,
Cos fairies live in the woods,
She assured me that they didn’t,
And would show me if she could.

“These fairies you’ve been told about,
Or read about in books,
They collect the food we eat,
They’re called the mushroom troops.”

They pick the poisonous mushrooms,
The ones you cannot eat,
And bring them back to fae town,
Where we have a fae feast.

Each Fairy has purpose,
I collect your tooth,
I take it back to fae ville,
To build and repair our roof.

Our ancesters discovered,
They were perfect cos they’re strong,
Nobody really wants them,
And you don’t use them when they’re gone.

From houses to our bridges,
And every arch we walk through,
We stick it all together,
With gum and dental glue!

But, the brightest teeth of all,
The most brilliant and most white,
We place up in the sky,
To be the stars at night.

I listened in fascination,
As she neared the end,
For the story here before you,
You must thank my fairy friend.

She had kept her promise,
So I kept mine too,
I opened up the window,
And out the fairy flew.

So next time your tooth does wobble,
And wobble as teeth can,
Place that tooth under your pillow,
For the fairy folk to have.

The Pig – by Roald Dahl

I’ve always been a fan of Roald Dahl, and like many others – read his books religiously as a child. I recently stumbled across his poetry and i think it is totally underrated…

The Pig
In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn’t read.
He knew what made an airplane fly,
He knew how engines worked and why.
He knew all this, but in the end
One question drove him round the bend:
He simply couldn’t puzzle out
What LIFE was really all about.
What was the reason for his birth?
Why was he placed upon this earth?
His giant brain went round and round.
Alas, no answer could be found.
Till suddenly one wondrous night.
All in a flash he saw the light.
He jumped up like a ballet dancer
And yelled, “By gum, I’ve got the answer!”
“They want my bacon slice by slice”
“To sell at a tremendous price!”
“They want my tender juicy chops”
“To put in all the butcher’s shops!”
“They want my pork to make a roast”
“And that’s the part’ll cost the most!”
“They want my sausages in strings!”
“They even want my chitterlings!”
“The butcher’s shop! The carving knife!”
“That is the reason for my life!”
Such thoughts as these are not designed
To give a pig great piece of mind.
Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland,
A pail of pigswill in his hand,
And piggy with a mighty roar,
Bashes the farmer to the floor…
Now comes the rather grizzly bit
So let’s not make too much of it,
Except that you must understand
That Piggy did eat Farmer Bland,
He ate him up from head to toe,
Chewing the pieces nice and slow.
It took an hour to reach the feet,
Because there was so much to eat,
And when he finished, Pig, of course,
Felt absolutely no remorse.
Slowly he scratched his brainy head
And with a little smile he said,
“I had a fairly powerful hunch
“That he might have me for his lunch.
“And so, because I feared the worst,
“I thought I’d better eat him first.”

Behind Imagination There’s Always Great Inspiration

I would like to introduce you to inspiration… Inspiration meet everyone…

I believe the genius’s are not those who study the planet and give a name to something they discover which has simply been there all along. I believe the genius’s are those whose study the land of make believe. The nonsense makers, the dreamers and the people who say “why not?”. These are the movie makers the poets and the writers. The inspirers!

Since being a child I have read the works of Dr. Suess, Roald Dahl, Eion Colfer and J.K Rowling. I have watched the movies from the minds of Tim Burton, Walt Disney and Guillermo Del Toro and been influenced and formed into the proud creative woman that sits writing before you.

I’ve created a section of my blog to express what inspires me to write, what pushes me head first through those writers blocks and sometimes just what makes me smile… Hey, it might even be the little bit of inspiration you’ve just been looking for!

The Grim

We all posses a fear,
Something that makes us recoil and scream when it’s remotely near,
for some of us it’s heights, clowns or a creepy crawly thing,
But for me, it has to be, definitely, the grim.

It’s certainly not human, animal, being or creature,
It doesn’t have a smell, sound or distinguishing feature,
So how can you be afraid if you can’t see it or feel
It’s the grim and I tell you it’s very much real.

The grim is a product of the imagination,
A kinda feeling you get, a simply horrible sensation,
It feeds on misery and guilt and from it, it grows,
Until it controls your emotions, that’s when grim shows.

It corrupts your brain, to make you feel the worst,
Makes you doubt yourself and that your whole life is cursed,
Makes you feel insignificant and small,
And sometimes the grim makes you feel nothing at all.

It’s when your alone and you feel a cold stare,
It’s that sense you get there’s somebody there,
It’s that lump in your throat when you just want to cry,
You can’t control the grim no matter how hard you try!

The thing about the grim, is it isn’t around for long,
It takes a smile and some encouragement to say “you know what, you’re wrong”,
And beating the grim is one hell of a strife,
But the grim is just simply A part of our life.

Just a note to say…

Just wanted to say a big thanks to everyone who has visited this page, I have been live for only a week and had almost 100 hits! I’m overwhelmed with all the feedback I’ve received over Facebook ect. All comments are appreciated, good or bad!

I am aware there isn’t a great deal to read as of yet but I assure you I am working on something special, it’s taking a lot of work to make it perfectly magical and I’m sure you will like it.

So to all you peeplets, my readers… thanks for the support! Hasta Luego!