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The Selkie's Song|Enchanted Fairytale Dreams



Kindle My Heart | A Little Princess | Karliene

As the moon kindles the night,
As the wind kindles the fire,
As the rain fills every ocean
And the sun, the earth…
Let your heart kindle my heart…

Album Cover Artwork by Harmony Becker.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Photography: Solitude In Nature, by Chris Williams.

Photography: Solitude In Nature, by Chris Williams.

(Source: faeryhearts)

I thank you, God, for most this amazingday: for the leaping greenly spirits of treesand a blue true dream of sky; and for everythingwhich is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.— E. E. Cummings.Artwork: The Sense of Sight (Detail), by Annie Louisa Swynnerton.

I thank you, God, for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.
— E. E. Cummings.

Artwork: The Sense of Sight (Detail), by Annie Louisa Swynnerton.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Comparison is the thief of joy.— Theodore Roosevelt.Artwork by Give Me Magical.

Comparison is the thief of joy.
— Theodore Roosevelt.

Artwork by Give Me Magical.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Once, a young woodsman was out hunting for wild ducks when he heard a sudden whirring of wings and looked up to see not ducks but seven graceful swans alight on the bank, cast aside their guises, and begin to bathe and sport in the water. Enthralled by their beauty, the young man snuck forward and stole one of the discarded garments which, to him, looked like a feathered white cape. Once the maidens had finished their bathing, they gathered together again on the water-bank and retrieved their robes, preparing to leave. However, the youngest was distraught for she could not find hers."Alas, dear sister, we cannot stay!" lamented the others and flew away without her, eastward into the dawn.After a time, the hunter approached the poor weeping maiden, holding the feathered robe tied to her fate. She begged piteously for its return, but the man, already too much in love, refused. “Nay, fair maid, for I would have you for my wife,” said he, covering her with his own woolen cloak and leading her to his home in the forest.For seven years they lived together as husband and wife, and the maiden who longed for cool waters and to fly on wings of snowy down had gifted her captor with two children, a boy and a girl. Then, one day, while playing hide-and-seek with her brother, the little girl found hidden a strange, sparkling white garment made of soft feathers. Curious, she brought the treasure to her mother sewing by the hearth who instantly dropped her needlework to wrap herself in the familiar folds. For a moment, a joyous sigh escaped her lips and then she was a swan once more, beating her strong wings on the wind of freedom, and flew out the window never to be seen again.— Scandinavian folktale.No matter how compliant a swan maiden may appear as a wife, there remains an unspoken anxiety and tension beneath the surface of her marriage. Her husband can never be certain of her affection, for it has been held hostage by her stolen skin. He offers her his cloak, but it is an exchange of unequal goods. Her feathered robe is the sign of her wild nature, of her freedom, and of her power, while his cloak becomes the instrument of her domestication, of her submission in human society. He steals her identity, the very thing that attracted him, and then turns her into his most precious prize, a pale version of the original creature of magic.Can we love the swan maiden? She seems to offer both an image of feminine power and feminine weakness: a girl who submits to the deceptions of a suitor and a woman who rejects the terms of an unfair marriage. She is at once a doting mother and one who will happily abandon her children in favour of her own needs. Her ambiguous tale can be read as the suppression of women’s rights and women’s creative power through enforced domestication, but it can also show such a woman’s resolve to not only survive a questionable marriage but to remain true to her nature. When given the chance, no amount of suppression can keep the swan maiden down. I feel a terrible tenderness for the youngest swan–girl, abandoned by her sisters to her fate on the ground. I want to shelter her from the routine ordinariness of her human marriage, given over to the demands of others. And I want to cheer, relieved and inspired, when she finds her own true self again, and rises to soar.— Terri Windling.Artwork: Blue Belle, by Gale Franey.

Once, a young woodsman was out hunting for wild ducks when he heard a sudden whirring of wings and looked up to see not ducks but seven graceful swans alight on the bank, cast aside their guises, and begin to bathe and sport in the water. Enthralled by their beauty, the young man snuck forward and stole one of the discarded garments which, to him, looked like a feathered white cape. Once the maidens had finished their bathing, they gathered together again on the water-bank and retrieved their robes, preparing to leave. However, the youngest was distraught for she could not find hers.

"Alas, dear sister, we cannot stay!" lamented the others and flew away without her, eastward into the dawn.

After a time, the hunter approached the poor weeping maiden, holding the feathered robe tied to her fate. She begged piteously for its return, but the man, already too much in love, refused. “Nay, fair maid, for I would have you for my wife,” said he, covering her with his own woolen cloak and leading her to his home in the forest.

For seven years they lived together as husband and wife, and the maiden who longed for cool waters and to fly on wings of snowy down had gifted her captor with two children, a boy and a girl. Then, one day, while playing hide-and-seek with her brother, the little girl found hidden a strange, sparkling white garment made of soft feathers. Curious, she brought the treasure to her mother sewing by the hearth who instantly dropped her needlework to wrap herself in the familiar folds. For a moment, a joyous sigh escaped her lips and then she was a swan once more, beating her strong wings on the wind of freedom, and flew out the window never to be seen again.
— Scandinavian folktale.

No matter how compliant a swan maiden may appear as a wife, there remains an unspoken anxiety and tension beneath the surface of her marriage. Her husband can never be certain of her affection, for it has been held hostage by her stolen skin. He offers her his cloak, but it is an exchange of unequal goods. Her feathered robe is the sign of her wild nature, of her freedom, and of her power, while his cloak becomes the instrument of her domestication, of her submission in human society. He steals her identity, the very thing that attracted him, and then turns her into his most precious prize, a pale version of the original creature of magic.

Can we love the swan maiden? She seems to offer both an image of feminine power and feminine weakness: a girl who submits to the deceptions of a suitor and a woman who rejects the terms of an unfair marriage. She is at once a doting mother and one who will happily abandon her children in favour of her own needs. Her ambiguous tale can be read as the suppression of women’s rights and women’s creative power through enforced domestication, but it can also show such a woman’s resolve to not only survive a questionable marriage but to remain true to her nature. When given the chance, no amount of suppression can keep the swan maiden down. I feel a terrible tenderness for the youngest swan–girl, abandoned by her sisters to her fate on the ground. I want to shelter her from the routine ordinariness of her human marriage, given over to the demands of others. And I want to cheer, relieved and inspired, when she finds her own true self again, and rises to soar.
Terri Windling.

Artwork: Blue Belle, by Gale Franey.

(Source: faeryhearts)


Fantasy Art | Unicorns | Jack Shalatain


Jack Shalatain is one of the leading visionary painters of our time; many respected artists have drawn inspiration from Shalatain’s work while his own concepts are fuelled by myth and legend.

The ethereal qualities of his imagery evoke a dreamlike state of being, taking the viewer to a world where anything is possible and benevolence reigns.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Hello, faery-friends! Would any of you like to be my featured blog for the Autumn season? Here’s how!Rules:
Must be following me. 
Must be similarly and mainly themed Nature/Magical/Faerytale.
Only reblogs will count. Likes should only be done to reference.
I will personally choose one winner and one runner-up.
There will be no poll, as I consider them unfair.
This post can be reblogged up until August 30th.
I will choose the winner and runner-up on August 31st.The winner and runner-up will be announced September 1st.Looking for:
An organised, appealing theme.
High-quality posts.
Kind, friendly blogger.
Tagging is a plus, but not mandatory.
Prize for the Winner:
A follow from me, if I’m not already.
An image link on the front of my blog for 3 months — from September 1st ‘til December 1st.
My eternal love and friendship. ♥
Prize for the Runner-up:
A follow from me, if I’m not already.
One solo promo.
My eternal love and friendship. ♥

Hello, faery-friends! Would any of you like to be my featured blog for the Autumn season? Here’s how!

Rules:

  • Must be following me
  • Must be similarly and mainly themed Nature/Magical/Faerytale.
  • Only reblogs will count. Likes should only be done to reference.
  • I will personally choose one winner and one runner-up.
  • There will be no poll, as I consider them unfair.
  • This post can be reblogged up until August 30th.


I will choose the winner and runner-up on August 31st.

The winner and runner-up will be announced September 1st.

Looking for:

  • An organised, appealing theme.
  • High-quality posts.
  • Kind, friendly blogger.
  • Tagging is a plus, but not mandatory.


Prize for the Winner:

  • A follow from me, if I’m not already.
  • An image link on the front of my blog for 3 months — from September 1st ‘til December 1st.
  • My eternal love and friendship. 


Prize for the Runner-up:

  • A follow from me, if I’m not already.
  • One solo promo.
  • My eternal love and friendship. 
Who knowsThat in the depth of the ravineOf the mountain of my hidden heartA firefly of my love is aflame.— Abutsu-ni.

Who knows
That in the depth of the ravine
Of the mountain of my hidden heart
A firefly of my love is aflame.
— Abutsu-ni.

"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?""Over the sea.""Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?""All that love me.""Are you not tired with rolling, and neverResting to sleep?Why look so pale and so sad, as foreverWishing to weep?”"Ask me not this, little child, if you love me:You are too bold.I must obey my dear Father above me,And do as I’m told.”— Lady Moon, by Richard Monckton Milnes (Lord Houghton).

"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?"
"Over the sea."
"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?"
"All that love me."

"Are you not tired with rolling, and never
Resting to sleep?
Why look so pale and so sad, as forever
Wishing to weep?”

"Ask me not this, little child, if you love me:
You are too bold.
I must obey my dear Father above me,
And do as I’m told.”
— Lady Moon, by Richard Monckton Milnes (Lord Houghton).

(Source: faeryhearts)

Artwork: Cinderella, by Joanna Skiba.

Artwork: Cinderella, by Joanna Skiba.

(Source: faeryhearts)


Now is the hour when frogs and thrushes
Praise the world from the woods and rushes.
Sleep, my love…
Sleep, my only dear, in the dark… 
— Charlotte’s Lullaby, by Robert B. Sherman and Richard M. Sherman.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Do not be fooled by its commonplace appearance. Like so many things, it is not what is outside, but what is inside that counts.— Aladdin [1992] film.

Do not be fooled by its commonplace appearance. Like so many things, it is not what is outside, but what is inside that counts.
— Aladdin [1992] film.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Photography: Hypholoma Brunnuem Mushrooms, by Barry Doig.

Photography: Hypholoma Brunnuem Mushrooms, by Barry Doig.

(Source: faeryhearts)

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