Saturday, February 1, 2014

Winter Sleep by Elinor Wylie and Brambly Hedge by Jill Barkley


Winter Sleep by Elinor Wylie

When against earth a wooden heel
Clicks as loud as stone on steel,
When stone turns flour instead of flakes,
And frost bakes clay as fire bakes,
When the hard-bitten fields at last
Crack like iron flawed in the cast,
When the world is wicked and cross and old,
I long to be quit of the cruel cold.

Little birds like bubbles of glass
Fly to other Americas,
Birds as bright as sparkles of wine
Fly in the nite to the Argentine,
Birds of azure and flame-birds go
To the tropical Gulf of Mexico:
They chase the sun, they follow the heat,
It is sweet in their bones, O sweet, sweet, sweet!
It's not with them that I'd love to be,
But under the roots of the balsam tree.

Just as the spiniest chestnut-burr
Is lined within with the finest fur,
So the stoney-walled, snow-roofed house
Of every squirrel and mole and mouse
Is lined with thistledown, sea-gull's feather,
Velvet mullein-leaf, heaped together
With balsam and juniper, dry and curled,
Sweeter than anything else in the world.

O what a warm and darksome nest
Where the wildest things are hidden to rest!
It's there that I'd love to lie and sleep,
Soft, soft, soft, and deep, deep, deep!
               ~    ~    ~   ~   ~

Brambly Hedge by Jill Barkley


The above poem by Elinor Wylie made me think about the Brambly Hedge series of children's books  I fell in love with when my children were very young. The books were written and illustrated by Jill Barkley starting in 1980 and were a series about a community of mice who lived exceptionally well out of sight of humans and preying animals. My kids and I could spend hours engrossed just in the illustrations of these beautifully detailed little books.








Friday, January 17, 2014

The Year by Ella Wheeler Wilcox


What can be said in New Year rhymes,

That's not been said a thousand times?


The new years come, the old years go,

We know we dream, we dream we know.


We rise up laughing with the light,

We lie down weeping with the night.


We hug the world until it stings,

We curse it then and sigh for wings.


We live, we love, we woo, we wed,

We wreathe our brides, we sheet our dead.


We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,

And that's the burden of the year.

Monday, December 30, 2013

New Years, A Dialogue by Ella Wheeler Wilcox



MORTAL:
    “The night is cold, the hour is late, the world is bleak and drear;
    Who is it knocking at my door?”

THE NEW YEAR:
    “I am Good Cheer.”

MORTAL:
    “Your voice is strange; I know you not; in shadows dark I grope.
    What seek you here?”

THE NEW YEAR:
    “Friend, let me in; my name is Hope.”

MORTAL:
    “And mine is Failure; you but mock the life you seek to bless. Pass on.”

THE NEW YEAR:
    “Nay, open wide the door; I am Success.”

MORTAL:
    “But I am ill and spent with pain; too late has come your wealth. I cannot use it.”

THE NEW YEAR:
    “Listen, friend; I am Good Health.”

MORTAL:
    “Now, wide I fling my door. Come in, and your fair statements prove.”

THE NEW YEAR:
    “But you must open, too, your heart, for I am Love.”


Monday, December 9, 2013

My 1950s Christmas!

























This Christmas card came from my memories of a 1950s Christmas! My family did not have much but my mother who grew up during the Depression and never had a doll of her own made sure her four daughters each got a new doll every Christmas. Also she must have been up sewing night after night making complete wardrobes for each doll but of course we though they came from Santa! My fondest memories of Christmas growing up have to do with dolls!

This card is available through Fine Art America. See slideshow to the right.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

My new Christmas cards available through FineArtAmerica.com
http://maureen-tillman.artistwebsites.com/index.html
I hope you enjoy them!
                                       





Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Haunted Houses by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floors.

We meet them at the door-way, on the stair,
Along the passages they come and go,
Impalpable impressions on the air,
A sense of something moving to and fro.

There are more guests at table than the hosts
Invited; the illuminated hall
Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,
As silent as the pictures on the wall.

The stranger at my fireside cannot see
The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear;
He but perceives what is; while unto me
All that has been is visible and clear.

We have no title-deeds to house or lands;
Owners and occupants of earlier dates
From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands,
And hold in mortmain still their old estates.

The spirit-world around this world of sense
Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere
Wafts through these earthly mists and vapours dense
A vital breath of more ethereal air.

Our little lives are kept in equipoise
By opposite attractions and desires;
The struggle of the instinct that enjoys,
And the more noble instinct that aspires.

These perturbations, this perpetual jar
Of earthly wants and aspirations high,
Come from the influence of an unseen star
An undiscovered planet in our sky.

And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud
Throws o'er the sea a floating bridge of light,
Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd
Into the realm of mystery and night,—

So from the world of spirits there descends
A bridge of light, connecting it with this,
O'er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends,
Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.


Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Autumn Dryad Now Available on Prints



Happy Fall! This piece is called "Autumn Dryad". It is a hand made collage that sold 2 years ago on ETSY and yet it still gets a large number of views online - must be from my sold section or other places online where it shows up. So today I listed it on FineArtAmerica.com to be available as a print, canvas or greeting card. Being so happily consumed with my digital artwork I still sometimes really like to get my hands in the work and do my collage work.






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