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Notes from Enchanted England

Posts in sarahNet Ltd
Angels, Emotions & Selling

Felicity has also proved to be popular in my fine art print range. She floats on creamy, 100% cotton  rag paper, a simple, fluid line drawing.  I came out from behind the stall and explain all of the above, that she was a rapidly produced picture that flowed from the end of a gold pen one autumn afternoon. Felicity does dance, but even so my fine art printer had surprised me by selecting her as one that should be included in my normally more colourful range of prints.

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"I thought unicorns were more...fluffy". Terry Pratchet - Lords & Ladies

At night, sheltering in rocks, picking over roasted bones and watching their fire send sparks flying up into the heavens,  the cavemen spoke of a Unicorn that has a beard like a goat, the body of a horse or an ox, cloven hooves like an ox,  possibly an ox tail On its forehead is a twisted horn that enables it to escape from all traps. It is a creature of immense strength. An animal like this was described in ancient texts. The King James' Bible translated the hebrew word 're-em' as Unicorn.

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A Glastonbury tale of toads and tors

We walked down the lanes toward our parked car. The tarmac was blistering in the heat - even through our shoes we could feel its warmth, when - out of the corner of my eye - I saw a tiny movement in the lane. A toad was making its way across the road. It walked slowly, taking no notice of anything around it. To help avoid the broiling tarmac it raised two opposite limbs off the road before taking a step, setting each pair down and raising the next as it made its careful way to a cool green woodland that lay opposite. Inadvertently creating an innovative street dance - the animal remained oblivious to its audience.   On reaching the damp banks the toad paused before plunging back into its own world. The creature was an unexpected joy. With perfect timing, without unicorns, elves, angels or dragons, Glastonbury delivered a tiny piece of natural magic.

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Chalk rivers run, clear to the sea

A summer’s walk  in its meadows and the great chalk rivers that run clear to the sea.  Hidden by the bulrushes and the sweeping golden grasses I take off my outer clothing. I slip into the waters and swim, pale as a fish. I slip up river and then return to the hidden bank. I  wade to the shore, earthbound once more.

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