Monday, October 31, 2011

Wynken Blynken and Nod catch the baby stars



Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
by Eugene Field (1850-1895)
 
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
   Sailed off in a wooden shoe---
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
   Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
   The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
   That live in this beautiful sea;
   Nets of silver and gold have we!"
                     Said Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod. 


The old moon laughed and sang a song,
   As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
   Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
   That lived in that beautiful sea---
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish---
   Never afeard are we";
   So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
                     Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod. 


All night long their nets they threw
   To the stars in the twinkling foam---
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
   Bringing the fishermen home;
'T was all so pretty a sail it seemed
   As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 't was a dream they 'd dreamed
   Of sailing that beautiful sea---
   But I shall name you the fishermen three:
                     Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod. 


Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
   And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
   Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
   Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
   As you rock in the misty sea,
   Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
                     Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

More 'bubble stuff!

New t-shirts available at redbubble.
I also discovered yesterday, that all  my t-shirt designs are available as stickers! Go get some!



Sunday, October 23, 2011

Now available on redbubble!

At my redbubble shop, on t-shirts and iPhone cases.





Tuesday, October 18, 2011

iPhone Zombie

Braaaaiiiinnnnsss.....

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

New!

I have a sadly neglected account at redbubble.
It is a little less sad now!
Do you have an iPhone?  You do?  Did you know that you always wanted a really cool iPhone cover with a cute Space Girl on it? No? Well, you do!

Starting today I have three (three!) cool iPhone case designs on redbubble!
If you scroll towards the bottom of the page you will see where you can click on links for the other 2.




Almost makes me wish I had an iPhone...

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Minuet


Beauty and the Beast

by Jaimes Alsop

1. The Beast

Knowing how you loved the birds
I fixed them to the trees
so they wouldn't fly away.
So you would stay.

And you remained silent
and never questioned my bloody palms
or reproached me the birds
because they didn't sing.

It couldn't last, of course.
No new birds came and those crucified
were taken by small animals or simply
disappeared from the nails.
I was sure then that you would leave me.

Finally I confessed.
Trembling, I brought you the hammer
and showed my broken fingers.
Leaves and branches in my hair,
the diagrams of Autumn
on the sky.

And you smiled and said it didn't matter
about the birds
and drank at my tears
like a rare and fragile wine
that they too would not be wasted.



2. Beauty

I came to you so carelessly
there were those who thought I had not been warned.
I could only point to the false lovers who carried marks
where you had pressed coins into their palms
and admit I was impatient for your scars.

The rumours followed us as easily
as if you murdered me every night;
hemlock in my evening wine,
a loosened bannister on the stair.
The dull villagers and daft princes
waited still and at distances
for grave news and relentless
until I could only point again
at their jealous eyes and whisper
I had discovered why you handled me
as though I were made of glass.

I know they want to know about our bodies.
Our virginity confuses them
and they are reduced to words and silences.
What shall we allow them to believe?

We are a thousand years old, no histories
and nothing to confess.


poem from  Endicott Studio