Welcome to my Inner World. I am a French self-taught artist, and these past seventeen years I have made Norway my home. Moving to the Lofoten islands was the greatest present I ever made to myself and the Arctic landscapes are indeed a true treat for any artist’s eyes. I live with my British soulmate,… Continue Reading
Sometimes you have to leave the comfort and warmth of Home to roam the world so that you’ll have no regret. The dragon will keep the place safe and always welcoming for when you return, exhausted but content, to your nest.
Quelquefois, il est nécessaire de quitter le confort et la chaleur du foyer, aller explorer le monde afin de n’avoir aucun regret. Le dragon veillera sur la maison afin qu’elle reste un lieu sûr et accueillant lorsque, épuisé mais satisfait, vous rentrerez dans votre nid.
Lirael is inspired by the book of the same title, second volume of Garth Nix’s trilogy “The Old Kingdom”. I’ve read it several times, I love the settings. And the dog. This is one of the best descriptions of magic I’ve ever read. Some sequences still haunt me endlessly, like the first time Sabriel enters the Old Kingdom. Every time I go cross country skiing in the forest, I think of this very very special atmosphere. I also love the Abhorsen’s house with its strange servants.
Lirael est inspiré du livre du même titre, deuxième tome de la trilogie “L’Ancien Royaume” de Garth Nix. Je l’ai lu plusieurs fois, j’adore le cadre. Et le chien. C’est l’une des meilleures description de la magie que j’aie lues. Certaines séquences me hantent toujours, comme la première fois que Sabriel pénètre dans l’Ancien Royaume. Chaque fois que je vais me promener à ski de fond, je repense à cette atmosphère très très particulière. J’adore aussi la maison de l’Abhorsen avec ses étranges serviteurs.
’TWAS fifty quatrains the woman from unknown lands sang on the floor of the house to Bran son of Febal, when the royal house was full of kings, who knew not whence the woman had come, since the ramparts were closed.
This is the beginning of the story. One day, in the neighbourhood of his stronghold, Bran went about alone, when he heard music behind him. As often as he looked back, ’twas still behind him the music was. At last he fell asleep at the music, such was its sweetness. When he awoke from his sleep, he saw close by him a branch of silver with white blossoms, nor was it easy to distinguish its bloom from that branch. Then Bran took the branch in his hand to his royal house. When the hosts were in the royal house, they saw a woman in strange raiment on the floor of the house. ’Twas then she sang the fifty quatrains to Bran, while the host heard her, and all beheld the woman.