Fairies in Art

"Fantasy Art Warrior Woman" Gouche on Paper & My Poem Eos, Goddess of the Dawn

2009-07-12T11:04:00.000-07:00

"Fantasy Art Warrior Woman"
11x17 gouache on paper by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

Ahh just a little fantasy fun.

"I Captured Pictures of Eos, Goddess of the Dawn and Saw That She Was Weeping"

I Captured Pictures of Eos, Goddess of the Dawn and Saw That She Was Weeping

I captured pictures of Eos
Goddess of the Dawn.
I spied her
and despite what she might tell you
that she no longer frets for love
she was seen weeping
by my companion
and I.

In honor of romance
I slipped out of my clothes
and spread them on the sidewalk
chalk lines my missing presence
if you had not noticed.
Standing back
I see pretenses
they're melting
at least within my own measure
and that might be the cost of loving
too deeply.

I am a faery queen
and Eos knows me now.
In the afternoons I meet up with her
and I listen to her pining
lonesome woes
this sacred goddess
longing to know
love.

In honor of our friendship
I bless our meeting on pieces of the sky.
For Eos
I placed an alter among the sleeping clouds.

There I lined up rows of tiny boxes
placed a votive candle in each
and lit them with the flame of a dragons tongue.
Along the wispy vapored path
I placed a thousand poems
to be understood by everyone
who has ever longed for love.
.
Within the sentiment of the night
I held a vial of blood
remembering days of yore
deceased
graves were meant for visiting.

Magic bares a special curtain
best selling Goddess tarot cards
tis not up to me to fold
or leave that hope open.

I will wait on the seashore
hope each passer by takes it in
as a dove meets the wire
no longer sleeping nor forlorn
meeting some sort of peace.

I am a fairy queen
I say it cause I want to be.
I breathe in the circumference of the moon
sometimes
once in awhile
it smiles back at me.

Unlock the door to creativity
that's the goal of all artists.
Open the doors and let it fly
by
and by.
Find that world of fantasy
that was soo real when we were little.

Eos
Goddess of the Dawn.
I spied her
and despite what she might tell you
there was love left under her pillow
as the clouds floated by.

Copyright 2009
Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

The Caitiff and His Reluctant Lover the Mad Fairy

2009-06-20T13:14:00.000-07:00

"The Caitiff and His Reluctant Lover the Mad Fairy"

Sometimes love does not come easy
rosebuds do not unfold...
they hesitate.
Unsure of their future...
they hesitate
and watch for the wind.
Hearing the howl of a wolf
within the telling moon
and eternities dark skyline
life inside a rosebud might just
wait in a
not yet lived
sigh.

Princes are born to seek out treasures
and yet
there are no rules around their virtues
or lack of them.
Sometimes
kindness does not come at all
within a predestined soul.
Kings creating rules
might not make boundaries
around evil or goodness
so.

Thus a story begins
a Caitiff seeking out his treasure
not worthy of sainthood
yet
no one told him so.
No
no one spoke
at all.

He came to melt the night
and seek the blood of strangers.
Unsuspecting wanderers
changelings
with wings
and one in-particular
who did not know her own worth.
There are fairies
knowing nothing of legends
and the weeping
of roses
who through no true fault of their own
are indeed
forever
unfolded.
Flowers who hesitated
feeling uneasy
said no
to the worlds light
and thus
chose
to never know their breath
or a fulfilled life.

Cowardly man
longed to capture
just
one
rose-less
unsuspecting spec of magic
and take unto him
an angelic being
for his moral-less needs.

Just one.

This then I will tell you
as it was told to me
and as best I can remember
of a flock of angelic fairies
and their destined plight.
Tis a remarkable task
to decipher the moon
tunes
against the sky
and to tell it
to you.
Here then is what was told
to me
of a certain delicate in mind
fairy.
She did indeed
after seeing no other choice presented
unquestionably
give her very tiny life
for the scheme
of a Caitiff.

Dear Lily was a worrier
she chanted out loud
songs from her past
and lessons she had learned
the hard way.
And she wanted
more than anything
to give back to life
the miracles
that she had thrown away.
This was her chance
she thought
the Caitiff can take 'me'
and the rest
will not be lost.

And so it was
she stood upon a unfolded roses petal
stretched her arms out
singing
Caitiff take me
I will be your restored
joke
upon this land you may laugh at me
and once I'm taken
this destiny
will be
complete.

And so he did
take that fairy from her mind
and after he had done all
left her to her own
songs to pitifully
recall.
He then set her inside an unsung rose
and left her fragile body
forever to lie
waiting
in solemn
repose.

Within a single petal
of every flower you see
be sure to notice
there might just be
a fairy
waiting
for you
to set
her
free.

Copyright 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

Do you realize?

2009-06-13T09:33:00.001-07:00

"Magic" 36x48x2 oil on canvas

Youth sought after and a Faery Dragons longing to give a queen eternal youth... to no avail.

"Faery Dragons Roar For Prisoners of Lost Youth and Thus They Cried For a Beautiful Queens Passing"

Faery dragons
roar for prisoners of beauty
when they are caught
in-between
the seasons.

It's true.

Yet more to this tale
of a dragon's queen
seasoned forever
blue.

Victims of time
that age doth ultimately meet
ignoring any setting suns
or romantic affairs
a hero doth meet.
Their set plans
despite anyone's time-line
destiny is of a certainty
pursued.

Protecting herself from the glass
a queen glanced shyly into a mirror.
Ohh, "If only"
was her lament.
If only a different circumstance
age had greeted
a youthful repose
and yet..
No.

Disbelieving strangers
as they said it was not true
a narcissistic queen
left the hallway
and walked into her own
lonely
gloom.
Perhaps it was a fairy dragon
needing her at a dawning midnight
to enhance the queens beauty
and find here forever youthfully
for him
groomed.

Spirits of the dead
sounding off with their whistles
reaching whatever vibrations
a dragon once slain
might recall.

There will thus
always be
gentle souls
who circle round a babies laughter
tending to the scents in the air.
Babies breath
bringing the lovely sound of flowers
to cradle every infants gateway
in a bed of roses
and whisper of loving
care.

So beware
to those who seek a youthful view
for the queen did pass
once she left the dragons room.
Slipping into a trance
of a sparkle
on a lake
that let the moon shine through.
Into a destiny
nebulous swoon
for after the queen met a babies laughter
the fairy dragon sadly
knew...
His queen
mortal be
slipped past eternity
and into the galaxy
of a wilting flowers bloom.

06 June 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

~~*~~

ABOUT Kathy Ostman-Magnusen: I am an artist, represented by Monkdogz Urban Art, New York. ORIGINAL ART may be purchased through Monkdogz: http://www.monkdogz.com/chelseagallery/artistart/Magnusen/artist_magnusen.htm
FREE ART GIFTS,suitable for children plus prints, giclees, cards, available on my website: http://www.kathysart.com

Fairies in Art LOVE Matt!

2008-10-13T14:09:00.000-07:00

This sentiment is ALWAYS welcome to fairies in art:

I just never get tired of this.. tell me fairies are not dancing with Matt!

Beautiful Women in Competition-Past Her Innocent Stare Dragons Cease Their Breathing

2008-09-28T14:53:00.000-07:00

Past Her Innocent Stare Dragons Cease Their Breathing...

Drawings of scorpions
celtic design tattoo
there within those designs
in 'this' dream
lie beautiful women in competition.
Ah my prince
how do they strike your fancy?
How many go unnoticed
not cherished
and overlooked?
How many are wined
dined
yet never invited back?
A story alas I tell of one
a single sound of a wanting melody
not remarkable to some
but a treasure, forever to me
I know those ladies one
to a thousand sighs.

Once I danced along the beach
I flew into the arms of its mist
twas there within my helpless reach
a story with a pitiful twist.

I met a young woman
a sparrow all alone
her voice begun
not even a slight smile shown.

With plight in hand I lent my heart
to a lovely fantasy fairy
her soul was wind her words drew art
unaware of beautiful women in competition.

How does one become a scorpion?
I wanted to lead her to that gateway
let her melt there in that union
knowing power could be in her stay.

How does one protect one's wings
when all around
has left its sting
upon that melting sound?

Small voice was spoken
I heard her sorrow
and in that token
I could not promise her tomorrow.

I reached back in time
when I felt the dragon
a memory in me defined
yet he was such a lonely son.

Still I saw a solid stone
when all was past
thoughts remained alone
so I formed a dragons cast.

If princes are as wise
as they proclaim
within blinding cries
let me know that name.

Bold strokes my arms did bring
my voice did rise
my heart did sing
till I finally opened up my eyes.

Grim Reaper you will not define me
cause a prison
block my gate to flee
no Grim Reaper, please not this one.

Not this time this dread
I will not yield
despite your threats
her soul must be healed.

I gathered sand dollars
lined the seashore
looked near and far
yet saw my doom beyond a door.

Alas that selfish prince had come
had found his way
this morn of sun
his armer shining on display.

He set his eye
upon his prey
beautiful women in competition
what could that fairy say?

What cure is there to misery
this token in my stead
the plights been said for centuries
the sparrow
is now dead.

Let me mark this trail
it is as sacred as the next
travelers don't dispose of needed goods
nor wrap her pillow on their beds.

Soft soul this life departed from
so unaware
of beautiful women in competition
past her innocent stare.

Drawings of scorpions
celtic design tattoo
there within those designs
in 'this' dream
lie beautiful women in competition.
And I will lie awake at night
remembering fairies who forgot their wings
we as fragile as a sailors fleeting kiss.

28 September 2008
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2008

~~*~~

The image is from one of my paintings from my "Victorian Series" called
"Forget Me Not"
24x30 oil on canvas

~~*~~

ABOUT Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

I paint and sculpt female fantasy art and map fairy tale adventures. I dream of beautiful women on canvas and art of exotic women.

I have illustrated for Hay House Inc.,"Meditations For Women Who Do Too Much" CARDS, taken from Anne Wilson Schaef's book. I also illustrated for Neil Davidson, who was considered for the Pulitzer Prize in feature writing, and several other publications. My paintings are collected worldwide.

Giclee canvas art work, greeting cards and posters are available for sale on my website:

http://www.kathysart.com

Sign up for my mailing list for FREE ART GIFTS suitable for children: Drawings of whimsical angel pictures, legends of mermaids and fairies in art. Tiny angels whisper fantasy art for shrink art, or coloring pages. Also a "Letter From the Tooth Fairy", ya just never know when you might need one!

I am Represented by:

Monkdogz Urban Art, Inc., 547 West 27th Street, 5th floor, New York, NY 10001

ORIGINAL ART may be purchased through Monkdogz

http://www.monkdogz.com

Check out one of my Squidoo lenses about that creative art spirit inside you:

Fantasy Art Woman|Beautiful Women Goddess Art:

http://www.squidoo.com/kathysart

~~*~~

2008-09-08T16:38:00.001-07:00

Don't forget I have free coloring pages & letter from the tooth fairy on my website: http://ping.fm/zDICG -Kathy

Fantasy Art Woman|Beautiful Women Goddess Art

2007-03-16T16:06:00.000-07:00

"Fantasy Art, An Art Goddess and a Mermaid's Story"

Fantasy art
mingles with the colors
my palette, my inspiration
my tune, a fairies dream.
Cold and grey
bold and red
midnight meets a sky of lavender
if I choose to paint it so.

I close my eyes and breathe it in.
I am a fantasy artist
I plot and measure my songs.
I seek out inspiration.

I lie on the cool grass
the sky is my blanket
the moon is my compass.
Sometimes it leads me home
sometimes it takes me afar
I land in forests
or un-traveled seas.

I spy a bird in the air
and I become one.
I dream of magic
cloak my breath with requests.
Let me spin around and dance
lift my cares from this earth
plant orchids near my pathway
and line the trail with golden ribbons.

If there is a goddess in me
I will save her from the dragon
or perhaps I will become one.
I am the mystery in my own story.
I am the tailor of my own myth.
I approach the door anyway I please.

Fantasies live in the art of dreaming.
I write it all down
plot out tomorrow what was yesterday
and paint a desert knowing a waterfall.
I draw the surface of pretend
color it with crayons
and put it in an envelope.
I will open my secret in the afternoon
pour tea and eat chocolate and cookies.

I stand at the oceans roar
it tells me to continue dreaming.
I aspire to be the captain of a ship
that sets out to sail toward the Milky Way.
and I hear a spellbinding call,
"Look out to the beyond dear ones
the horizon is just within your grasp."
I turn to see a mermaid
blushing
as she treasures the illusion
for the message she sang to me.

I am a little girl today
a goddess and woman too.
I do as I please
the sensations are mine
and I alone define them.
Fantasy art
a legend I describe on canvas
or sculpt with clay between my fingers
it is mine.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

Fantasy Art Woman|Beautiful Women Goddess Art
http://www.squidoo.com/kathysart/

Pixie Faries, Mystical Faries www.kathysart.com

2007-02-21T12:00:00.000-08:00

Pixie Faries; Mystical Faries; Elves in Folklore and Myths

I stood outside the doorway
looking down the path
I thought of the box
set out on my table.
I had not opened it as yet.

I stood there feeling the sun
warm measures of new days met my name.
I had picked flowers earlier in the day
defined their unspoken pleasure
set them in vases with branches from trees...
trees I do not know the name of.

I thought of the box
pixie faries
mystical faries
all those elves in folklore and myths.
I thought of the box
ribbons of gold
tape keeping it well sealed
the contents inside
feeling most alone.

I had just returned
the mountains of Africa
had been my pathway.
I met the stride with optimism
and hope.
I had known an adventure
I would never be the same.

What would all the mystical faries say?
I had not mentioned them before
not out loud.

Now...
I stood in the doorway
back home again
wondering about them.
Wondering about myself
if I would ever be able to sing
all those old tunes again.
I would always cherish their lyrics
their melody had been my comfort
my enemy
my confusion at times.
Pixie faries
mystical faries
did they understand?
Had they been patient?
Did they wait for me?
I had known them so well
once long ago.
My childhood held out for fantasy.
I left them there though
somewhere on the path to adulthood.

I long to charm them again.
I hope they will accept my fragile promise
said when I was young.
I would always love them
remember elves in folklore and myth
see fantasy in the flowers
climb trees and see far beyond the grove.

I turned back toward the contents of the box
it sits beneath a vase of roses
on a table inscribed with Chinese drawings.
I left my necklace made of seeds there
purchased for remembrance
the mountains of Africa forever at my call.
A book of Rumi
pages open
setting a stage for sentiments
and understanding.
I walked inside the room
picked up the box.
I looked up sensing a presence
and there you stood
holding the ribbons
already knowing
what was inside.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
www.kathysart.com

The painting above,

"Bed of Dreams"

is by me and can be purchased in cards, posters and giclees on my website.

The Fairy Tale Story by Joanne Hale

2007-02-11T14:23:00.000-08:00

The Fairy Tale Story
By Joanne Hale

Little Red Riding Hood, where have you been?
“To the high tower, to paint it bright green
I met up with Cinders and Hansel & Gretel
Who joined in the painting of brickwork and metal
A little while later, Pinocchio turned up
Stirring the paint with his nose, mucky pup!
The colours, they mingled, from one to another
And, one of the Three Pigs mistook his own brother!
For a navy blue statue – oh, how we laughed!
When Buttons joined in, and then had to be bathed!
He splashed and he lathered and threw water about
Causing lots of merriment, laughing and shouts
But, Billy Goat Gruff, he got in a mood
When, soggy and messy, got the basket of food
Then, behind the tower, an orchard we found
Where lovely red apples had fallen to the ground
We munched and we feasted – each filled our belly
Then Humpty Dumpty discovered some wobbly jelly
That was safe, undamaged, in the soppy wet hamper
Though the rest of the food, it was left slightly damper!
Wandering along, was Little Bo Peep
She told us she’d passed an Ogre – the creep
Who took about twenty and four of her lamb
He thought they were bacon, or honeydew ham!
Despairing, was she – oh, what could she do?
Her flock numbers dwindling – missing a few
Rapunzel suggested we all go along
To see the Ogre, and sing it a song
“A song!” Said the Three Bears, “what good would that be?”
The Ogre, at us, he would laugh with such glee
“That is the point”, said Rapunzel, with flair
And, flamboyantly, tossed back her long golden hair
“If he thinks we are funny and laughs at us so
It will give us a chance to distract him, you know
And, when he’s not looking, all of us will
Grab hold of a lamb each and run for the hill”
“Great idea”, said the Woodcutter, “I think it might work”
“Yes”, said Goldilocks,"'cos that Ogre’s a berk!
Remember that time, when the Gingerbread Man
Told him a joke about a new hunting ban?”
“Yes!” Laughed Tom Thumb, “I remember it well
The Ogre was aghast – and over he fell
Kicking and screaming and hammering his fist
On the ground, with such fury – you all get the gist?”
The Pied Piper remembered another such time
When the Ogre was fooled, whilst committing a crime
“He was fishing for fairies along the creek riverbank
Took fright at his own reflection, fell in, and then sank!”
Puss in Boots, passing by, said with such glee
“Hello there Ogre, in some trouble, are thee?”
And the Ogre, he roared and he spat at the cat
Who ran away, sniggering, whilst waving his hat
At a passing stagecoach, with Prince Charming inside
Puss in Boots wanted to gossip, whilst hitching a ride
“And, there was that time”, said Old Mother Hubbard
“When he wore those new clothes, which he stole from my cupboard”
“We remember”, said the Blind Mice, “he thought he looked swell
But, the clothing was ladies, he just couldn’t tell!”
“Yes, well”, said Bo Peep, “all this talking is fine
But, can we get on and recover what’s mine?”
“Yes”, we all said, “we must go without haste
For the Ogre will be hungry – there’s no time to waste”
We found the Ogre teasing Quasimodo
The poor lad was making excuses to go
He’s very shy and gets picked on a lot
And, the Ogre’s a bully, he doesn’t care a jot
About whom he offends – he just thinks it’s funny
Robin Hood, Mother Goose, or the Easter Bunny
They’ve all stood his taunting and teasing, it’s true
Ugly Duckling included, and Little Boy Blue
But, times were a changing, we were to fight back
For there was that beanstalk that was grown by Jack
Who would climb it and tell the giant at the top
That the Ogre was mocking them, and it had to stop
So Jack, climbed to the top of the green stalk
Where the Giant sat dozing, all big, brawn and balk
“Jack!” He cried, "Hello my dear fellow!
Grab a seat! Take a pew! Sit down and mellow!”
“I’d love to, you know, but I’m here for a favour
I really should get back and really not waiver”
“What troubles ye so”? The Giant did frown
So, Jack told the story of the Ogre in town
The Giant, he listened and did not like much
Of what he was hearing of this Ogre and such
“Rumplestiltskin did mention him on his last visit
But talked of the Ogre’s clothes, saying they were exquisite
And Sleeping Beauty did talk of it too
Though she just kept yawning and wanting the loo
Please rest assured, my good friend Jack
You go tell the others that I’ll sort out that hack
I’ll come down just as soon as I’ve eaten
Then I’ll be heavier and the Ogre will be beaten”
Climbing back down, Jack noticed the others
Had gathered around the stalk, Dads, Kids and Mothers
To hear just what the Giant had said
Before going home to put the children to bed
As Jack was explaining, the Giant appeared
All mighty (and clean!) – A sight to be feared
In search of the Ogre, the Giant, he went
And saw Little Jack Horner, by a tree, his head bent
“Ah, Jack, me lad, what ever’s the matter”?
“It’s the Ugly Sisters, they just keep getting fatter
They take away my lovely plum tarts
And eat them in front of me! Oh, they have such cold hearts”
“You should cheer up young Little Jack Horner
For there is the Muffin Man, over in the corner
He’s measuring the Ugly Sisters around each their waist
And the tape measure’s stretching! Oh, just look at each face!
That’ll teach them to take your tarts of plum
Those tasty treats have left those sisters really glum!
You won’t have any more trouble, young Jack
You see if I’m not right, those sisters won’t be back!
I’m off now to find this terrible Ogre bully
And find out his problem, oh yes, quite fully
For he has been terrorising you poor town folk
And I won’t have it, and this isn’t a joke
I’ll sort him out, oh yes, good and proper
Messing with you lot, oh, he’ll come a cropper
And what’s that, I spy, he has hold of ole Sneezy
Also, Bad Wolf, and he’s made them quite wheezy
Stop that you Ogre, you foul mean heejee
Put down those creatures and just leave them be
And, leave this town, for I rule this land
And I don’t take to strangers getting the upper hand
This is my territory and it always will be
We now all live together in perfect harmony
And I’m bigger than you, so you run along
Far away from here, 'cos you don’t belong
And if you backchat me, or put up a fight
I’ll sort you out properly, with my muscle and might
For I am the bigger one between you and I
And I know for certain that I’ll make you cry
So give back those lambs and you will save face
Be heading off now, 'cos you’re a disgrace
Leave here right now and don’t turn around
And never return here, or you’ll see what you’re bound”
So away walked the Ogre, his silly head bowed
By the increasing cheering of the gathering crowd
“Three cheers for the Giant!” Their noise it was loud
For the Giant, their hero, they were so very proud
Red Riding Hood, tell me, this all happened today?
“Oh yes, as I told you, ‘tis the fairy tale way!"

I have a really good imagination, which can sometimes be a hindrance, but it is what helps me with inspiration to write my poetry, which I do as a form of relaxation and to give pleasure to others that read it. I write about everyday occurrences and events that have either happened to me or to others. I write about everyday occurrences and events that have either happened to me or to others. I had my first poem published in a magazine when I was 10 years old.

I have been writing poetry for many years and regularly have it published in print. My poetry is published by Forward Press and in many other publications. So I'm now putting my poetry online, my home page is http://www.johalepoetry.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk I also publish my poetry on my Blog jo-hale-poetry at http://jo-hale-poetry.blogspot.com and on 8hop.com My poetry on 8hop.com. I'm married and my husband's name is Peter.

Joanne has a Lulu e-book at http://www.lulu.com/content/621509.

Be sure to check out her wonderful website!

Kathy