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Topic: Illustrate My Favorite Story Swap Round 2 Gallery!  (Read 12849 times)
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Two-headed girl
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lacing fingers through the notches of your spine

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« Reply #60 on: May 15, 2010 03:12:23 PM »

I'm glad that you like it, hgddm! I was a bit worried, I'm not too sure on steampunk, I had to do a lot of googling and craftster stalking.

I actually received from you (hgddm) today! I couldn't open it till after Shabbat, but I've got pictures now. Thank you so much!

Here it is:

Picture and text pages together:

The picture page:


and the little artist card:

hddgm also sent me some lovely photos of spring in her area - here are my favourites:

A nice mountain view:

A funny one of a squirrel making off with a whole avodaco

And two beautiful flowers:

I'll post another message with all the pages in a sec

Thanks hgddm!

Two-headed girl
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« Reply #61 on: May 15, 2010 03:13:42 PM »

The Song of Songs, Chapter 1

-----Section 1 (hgddm):

The song of songs, which is Solomon's.
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth--for thy love is better than wine.
Thine ointments have a goodly fragrance; thy name is as ointment poured forth; therefore do the maidens love thee.
Draw me, we will run after thee; the king hath brought me into his chambers; we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will find thy love more fragrant than wine! sincerely do they love thee.

-----Section 2 (kartiana):

I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.
Look not upon me, that I am swarthy, that the sun hath tanned me; my mother's sons were incensed against me, they made me keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.
Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon; for why should I be as one that veileth herself beside the flocks of thy companions?
If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock and feed thy kids, beside the shepherds' tents.


-----Section 3 (stellou):

I have compared thee, O my love, to a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.
Thy cheeks are comely with circlets, thy neck with beads.
We will make thee circlets of gold with studs of silver.
While the king sat at his table, my spikenard sent forth its fragrance.
My beloved is unto me as a bag of myrrh, that lieth betwixt my breasts.
My beloved is unto me as a cluster of henna in the vineyards of En-gedi.
Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thine eyes are as doves.
Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant; also our couch is leafy.
The beams of our houses are cedars, and our panels are cypresses.


Getting my crafty back on!
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« Reply #62 on: May 17, 2010 11:31:39 AM »

I received an AMAZING page from sophieangele!!! I honestly do not know what she was talking about when she was worried her pages wouldn't be fancy enough. This is gorgeous! Be warned, many pics to show it off:

handwritten text for section 6 with beautiful silhouette of Ilmatar floating pregnant in the water.

then the page flips open to reveal section 7 with an amazing pop-up image of her creating the features of the world!!!

sophieangele asked me some questions for section 6 and I told her she could include section 7 if she wanted since it is more visual, and WOW! She did an amazing job with both sections! I never would have imagined so much detail in a single page!

Thank you sophieangele!!!!  Kiss

and here are some closeups of the pop-up  Smiley

Artist info card:

I'll post this with my story in a bit, and I'll include section 7 since I have it illustrated too  Cheesy

Seriously, I can't describe this page well enough! It is just amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you sophieangele!
« Last Edit: May 17, 2010 11:40:00 AM by kartiana » THIS ROCKS   Logged

« Reply #63 on: May 17, 2010 12:27:06 PM »

this is just ...WOW! Shocked (speechless)

back to quilting...hurray and I dusted my art material Cheesy
Getting my crafty back on!
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« Reply #64 on: May 17, 2010 12:41:20 PM »

Send outs are today! Remember to PM me and your partners when you send and receive!!! I update all my records based on the PMs I receive and might miss it if you just post in the swap thread.

Also, save your receipts! they are your proof of sending if a package gets lost! Scan/photograph it and keep it in a safe place. You do not have to share it with me unless the package goes missing, but feel free to send it to me just in case (that way you won't have to worry about it later).

« Reply #65 on: May 17, 2010 12:53:25 PM »

Brace yourselves, folks, because I've got some seriously awesome pictures here!!

First up, from titaniumhip, the first section of my story!

And second, from blupaisan!

They're both so wonderful! Thank you, thank you, thank you to both of you!!

Thank you!

"Normal's not normal" ~ House
Getting my crafty back on!
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« Reply #66 on: May 17, 2010 01:09:54 PM »

The loooong story, so far:

          Part 1
She, the virgin of the air,
Beautiful maiden. Nature's child,
Long maintained in holiness
Her eternal maidenhood
In the far-horizoned heavens,
Level meadows of the air.

But in time she wearied of it,
Was estranged from this odd living,
Always being by herself,
Ever living as a virgin
In those far-horizoned heavens,
In those vast and empty spaces

So at length she then descended
To the seawaves down below,
To the open clear sea surface
Out upon the open ocean.
Suddenly a storm wind blew,
Out of the east an angry blast
Blew the water to a foam
Heaving up the rollers high.

By the wind the maid was rocked,
On a wave the maid was driven
Round about the blue sea surface
By the whirling whitecaps lifted
Where her womb the wind awakened
And the sea-foam impregnated.

Thus a full womb now she carried,
Long she bore her burdened belly,
Seven hundred years she bore it
For nine lifetimes of a man,
Yet the borning was unborn,
Still the fetus undelivered.

calligraphy by stellou

art by stellou

          Part 2
As the mother of the water
Aimlessly the virgin drifted:
She swam eastward, she swam westward,
She swam south and northwestward,
Swimming round the whole horizon
In the anguish of her birth pangs,
In her belly's bursting pains.
Yet the borning was unborn,
Still the fetus undelivered.

Then she fell to weeping softly,
Said a word and spoke out thus:
"Woe is me, the water wanderer,
Luckless girl, misfortune's child!
Now already I'm in trouble,
Shelterless beneath the sky,
Ever rocking on the seawaves
To be cradled by the wind,
To be driven by the billows
On these far-extending waters,
Endlessly repeated billows.

"Better had it been for me
To have stayed the airy virgin
Than to be as I am now
Drifting as the water-mother.
Ifs too cold for me to stay here,
Painful to be drifting here,
Wallowing in this watery waste.

"0 thou Ukko, lord of all,
Hear me, thou the all-sustainer:
Come, 0 come where thou art needed;
Come, 0 come where thou art called!
Loose the maiden from her misery
And the woman from her womb-ache;
Come thou quickly, soon arriving
Where thy help is sooner needed."

to change your image viewing settings please click here art by blupaisan

to change your image viewing settings please click here

          Part 3
Then a bit of time passed over
Like a tiny rash of rain,
When a scaup, the honest bird,
Came on hovering here and there
Searching for a nesting place,
For a spot to build her home on.

She flew eastward, she flew westward,
Flew to northwest and to southward
But she cannot find a spot
Even in the worst of places
Where to build her needful nest,
Where to take up her abode.

Hovering, fluttering back and forth
Thus she thought and pondered it:
"Must I make my home on wind,
Build my hut upon the billows
Where the wind can blow it over
Or a wave can wash away?"

So the mother of the water,
Water mother, airy maiden,
Raised her knee above the surface
And her shoulder from the wave
As a refuge for the scaup
And a welcome nesting place.

Then that scaup, the lovely bird,
Fluttering round and hovering over
Spied the water-mother's knee
Lifted from the sea's blue surface;
Took it for a grassy tussock
Or a tuft of new-grown turf.

art by SailorGirlBonk

art by SailorGirlBonk

          Part 4
Flies about, flitting here and there,
Settles on the lifted kneecap.
It is there she builds her nest,
There she laid her golden eggs -
Six were the golden eggs she laid,
But the seventh was of iron.
She began to hatch the eggs there,
Heating up the lifted kneecap;
Brooded one day, brooded two days,
Even on the third day brooding.
Then the mother of the water,
Little mother, airy maiden,
Felt the rising heat upon her,
Felt as if her skin were scorching,
Thought her kneecap was on fire,
That her very veins were melting.

          Part 5
All at once she jerked her knee,
Agitating every member,
And the eggs rolled in the water
To the tumbling of the tides;
Into bits the eggs were broken,
Shattered into crumbs and pieces.
But the eggs and pieces were not
Mixed up with the mud and water
For at once the crumbs grew comely
And the pieces beautiful.
One egg's lower half transformed
And became the earth below,
And its upper half transmuted
And became the sky above;
From the yolk the sun was made,
Light of day to shine upon us;
From the white the moon was formed,
Light of night to gleam above us;
All the colored brighter bits
Rose to be the stars of heaven
And the darker crumbs changed into
Clouds and cloudlets in the sky.

art by najaorama. I love this picture! I love how the world is formed inside the egg shape (the mountains are made from the egg cracking)! Thank you najaorama!

          Part 6
Quickly now the time goes forward
As the hurrying years pass by
While the newborn sun is shining
And the newborn moon is gleaming.
Still the mother goes on swimming,
Water mother, airy maiden,
Swimming on those peaceful waters
Over misty seawaves wandering.
Before her flowed the liquid deep,
Behind her shone the empty heaven.
In the ninth year, tenth of summers,
Raised her head out of the sea,
Lifts her crown above the water;
Set to work on her creations,
Hastens on her handiwork,
Out upon the clear sea surface,
Out upon the open ocean.

art by sophieangele

          Part 7
Where she gave her hand a turn
There she put the capes in order;
Where her foot struck bottom, there
Grottoes for the fish were formed;
Where the bubbles reached the surface
There the deeps were made still deeper.
Where her side had scraped the land
There the level shores appeared;
Where she turned her foot to landward
There the salmon grounds were formed,
And wherever her head touched land
There the broad bays opened out.

art by sophieangele

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« Reply #67 on: May 17, 2010 01:12:16 PM »

and in case epic poetry is not to your fancy, but you still want to know what's going on... here is a quick summary  Wink

Kalevala creation myth

Creation and the Birth of Vinminen. Ilmatar, the virgin of the air, leaves the loneliness of the sky and moves down to the sea, where the wind impregnates her. She drifts upon the waters for ages, pregnant but unable to give birth. A magical bird flies by and lays several eggs on Ilmatar's upraised knee. As the bird sits brooding in the nest, the heat makes Ilmatar jerk her knee, and the eggs begin to change. One breaks open and the lower half becomes the earth, the upper part becomes the sky, the yolk becomes the sun, and the white becomes the moon. During her thirty-year pregnancy with Vinminen, Ilmatar sculpts the cliffs, coves, beaches, meadows, forests, and other features of the earth and sea. Finally, Vinminen forces his way out of his mother and floats on the sea for another eight years before he reaches land.


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What a piece of work is man!

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« Reply #68 on: May 17, 2010 01:28:40 PM »

these are amazing...everyone here has some awesome talent.

Yossarian Lives!
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« Reply #69 on: May 17, 2010 03:46:40 PM »

I have received 2/5!

"Blind Willie McTell" Bob Dylan

Section 1 (whoami7891)
Seen the arrow on the doorpost
Saying, "This land is condemned
All the way from New Orleans
to Jerusalem."
I've traveled through East Texas
Where many martyrs fell,
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell.

Artist card:

Section 2 (Ralph)
Well, I heard that hoot owl singing
as they were packing up the tents.
The stars above the barren trees
were his only audience.
Them charcoal gypsy maidens
can strut their feathers well,
but nobody can sing the blues
like Blind Willie McTell.

Section 3 (najaorama)
See them big plantations burning,
hear the cracking of the whips,
smell that sweet magnolia blooming,
see the ghosts of slavery ships.
I can hear them tribes a-moaning.
Hear that undertaker's bell.
Nobody can sing the blues
like blind Willie McTell.

Section 4 (turtleslovecabbage)
There's a woman by the river
with some fine young handsome man.
He's dressed up like a squire,
bootleg whiskey in his hand.
There's a chain gang on the highway.
I can hear them rebels yell,
and I know no one can sing the blues
like Blind Willie McTell.

Section 5 (christie.mcnabb)
Well, God is in His heaven.
And we all want what's His,
but power and greed and corruptible seed
seem to be all that there is.
I'm gazing out the window
of the St. James hotel,
and I know no one can sing the blues
like Blind Willie McTell.
« Last Edit: May 17, 2010 03:47:54 PM by haroldlovesmaude » THIS ROCKS   Logged

"They had not brains enough to be introverted and repressed." -Catch-22
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