swimming through the smoke...

A story from a Derbyshire hillside

first thoughts for a Fairy landscape

The day began with half a story and forestful of imagination. You see, once upon a time and not so long ago, Elijah had found a pipe in the field where he was walking and he sat down and smoked it.

In a pool of smoke and scented mist, he saw through the skin of the hill and into the wonders of fairyland below. This world of marvels drew him, tempted him again and again to sit, and smoke and watch, until at last he dived in, slipping through the smoke like it was water, coasting the currents of mist until he came to the lands "that clearly purtain to faerie"

remember what we told you, 

what your grandmother said, 

never eat the fairy food 

or you will be as good as dead,

for fairyland will keep you, 

will hold you for a year and a day,

for a lifetime or two

listening to the stories...

...we began to share

A company of storymakers gathered in Glossop Library. By the end of the day about 70 of us, adults, children and goblins had worked on this tale. We scribbled and chatted and drew, listened and shared and ideas grew. A story shaped itself. A tale of strangeness and wonders and the curious fate of Elijah (who got younger as we planned)

scared cows heading for adventure,

balancing on a raft on a rushing river,

full of sharks and regretting their decision

in a spooky house,

 a ghost lived

with a zombie

and a werewolf

and a monster on the garden swing

We danced and played with drama. Huge sweeps of cloth became dragon wings and landscapes and dresses marked out our princesses (and the wicked witch so cunningly disguised as a princess that at lunchtime she was whisked away to spend the afternoon in someone else's palace)

With muddy shoes, Rosie went to collect apples from the tree but the tree grew butterflies and they exploded into a rainbow of wings and colour

We made puppets: foxes, cats and fairies, a fat goblin and  beautiful princesses. Elijah himself became a puppet

Remember my dear, 

remember my boy, 

don't eat the fairy food! 

No matter what they offer you!

a pink dragon flew by, ready for rescues and remedies

a Fairy Castle shines in the distance

Here is hedgehog icecream and chocolate cake, 

Here are rainbow slices and shining cupcakes. 

Won't you eat our beautiful food? 

Won't you share our wonderful feast?

We made a fairy palace shining with gold and silver and precious stones. We made the rising tower of the Toadstool Hotel

200 beds, if you please, 

with sheets of spidersilk and pillows of cobwebs.

So-so rooms for 10 petals a night. 

It's 50 (or a whole rose) if you want a luxury suite 

without goblins under the bed and giggling trolls in the cupboards.

Miss Rose ran the Fairy Hotel with a
firm hand holding onto the flower petals

mercenary dragons: a Dad and his dragon-lad drew near the golden palace. Hungry for the shining metal, they licked the tiles off the roof

a skeleton moved the curtains and watched Elijah wondering by

a wicked witch brewed potions of hope and horror, potions to capture your voice and keep it, replacing it with burbles and gargles and no words that anyone else could ever understand

Elijah Puppet taking shape

A fairy palace opened its doors on party night, fairy princesses laughed and danced. Goblins danced. Mischievous trolls and a great green dragon danced. Elijah danced. And they offered him cake

sweet cake, crumbly cake, chocolate cake with sprinkles, 

angel cakes with sparkles, cakes with wings and icing, 

cakes to tempt you, to tease you, 

to draw you down from the everyday world, 

to bring you here to Fairy, 

to hold you here in Fairy, 

come to rest here in the golden halls

But his friend the snowgirl took off her crown of coldness and as she quietly melted away, sadly, Elijah followed her last advice and slipped through the wardrobe door….

 

the snowgirl melts

and a thousand thanks to all our adventurous storymakers, young and old and in-between,  for your ideas and enthusiasm and drawings, and words, and dances, and glue! Take your ideas away and tell your story to someone else, tell it again and tell it thrice for a story told three times is a story forever  (but you need to tell to three different people)

NEXT EVENTS

This was our first Derbyshire Myths and Legends event

The next ones are on 

Wednesday 30th July: Ashbourne library (10 - 4: come for part or all of the day) - another big event with all 3 artists and a story growing through the day

Shorter workshops:

Saturday 2nd August: Eckington 10am - 12 noon, Staveley 1.30 - 3.30pm (with Gordon)

Wednesday 6th August: Sandiacre, 10.30 - 12 noon, Borrowash 2 - 3.30pm (with Maria); 

Wednesday 6th August: Shirebrook, 10 - 11.30 am, Bolsover, 2 - 3.30pm (with Debi)

These events need booking (even though the workshops are free): 

details of your local library can be found here