Welcome to my Inner World. I am a French self-taught artist, and these past twenty 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
This is a little guardian for my Pixie. At first, I needle felted everything and I was not satisfied. I’ve been dissatisfied with felting for a long while, this is why I felted less often than I’d like because it always led me to disappointment. I wish I could take a course with a Russian needle felting master but this is not possible and perhaps this is not my thing. Instead, I followed my vision and used everything that could help me to reach my goal. I tore off the head. Very nasty, but the goblin listened to my plea and agreed.
Then I made another head with paper clay (paper maché), I inserted glass eyes, sanded the face and I varnished the head before painting on it. I reworked the crown to define it more, I applied clear varnish on the inside. I also used bits of my hand woven fabrics and I think I will definitely go in that direction, incorporate more weaving while still felting the body and adding felted elements like leaves, stars and the like. I also added bits of organza here and there. And here he is, shimmering and very pleased with my work.
The most beautiful yarns I have in my home are a precious gift from my friend, Libellune . She spun all these gorgeous yarns herself and I am so in awe that I want to use them for something very special, I must give it some serious thought so that I’m not wasting any. It won’t be used for a dog blanket, I can assure you.
The Merry Ghost sees each of the townspeople, but no one sees him; or only a special, gifted few. Now he has nothing to lose. Gone is the bitterness, the injustice, the shortcomings, the anxieties. Certain souls might be sensitive enough to detect a transformation of the atmosphere in the places he happily haunts, traces of joy and merriment arising from his creative freedom, from acting as he was meant to act. But whether they do or not is unimportant to him. He does this for himself. Just as it is for himself that the happy little phantom sings, “Peace at last..”