http://stores.ebay.co.uk/The-Enchanted-Fairy-Shop

Hand finished in the UK, in simple white boxes each faerie retails for £10.00 + £2.50 p&p in the UK. Not only that buy one of these and quote ref: babycamel and recieved £10 worth of free gifts from Enchanted as a Thank you!

Each statue is made of bronze effect resin with detachable wings. average height is 15cm.

Better images are to follow, but the faeries were so excited about this great offer they didn’t focus the camera correctly, well they are small and the camera was quite heavy.

Pen & Ink is what he was called

By Elves, Pixies and even the Trolls.

That was then in the dim distant past,

When poor Pen & Ink had occasion to fart.

Know one would think with such angelic a features,

He happened to be the most smelly of creatures.

Now, thank the stars, He’s ammended his ways,

And “Inkpen du Fleur” is now his new name.

“well it wouldn’t do to have a smelly tooth faerie would it?”

Now I realise most people would classify us as mad, but knowing her as I do she would not make such a claim unless she had good grounds to do so. Having seen a few Orbs at dusk and felt a collective presence close to one of the numerous streams which abound in the region, especially at this time of year, she felt I would be interested…….. Besides, I needed a break and the walking would do me good as I’ve become a tad sedentary. That’s middle age for you!

Upon arrival I was over whelmed by the scenery, only three cottages in the whole valley, purple grey smoke swirling above dry stone chimneys  and a setting sun flooding the valley with burnished gold.

There just has to be more than this, I mean, more than can be seen with the eyes, as it was, all my senses were fired up, and I knew, this was going to be a rewarding break and with a little luck, well actually, more luck than I’ve ever had in my life, I may just glimpse that which I seek………………….

For a select time only we Enchanted are offering £10-00 worth of free gifts on ANY order of £10-00 and over.

Yes, that’s what we said.

If you spend £10 or more…you get £10 worth of free gifts!

With new images of collections coming soon, you would be crazy not to take us up on this offer.

“Such a dream I had” mused Lady Beth,

Her soul so vexed and mind perplexed,

 For the vision laid before her eyes,

Was peace, such peace, an ethereal guise.

For at waters edge a bridge does melt,

Here stepping stones on fountains float, Celestial forms, of nature’s notion,

The essence of love, profound devotion.

This Lady’s dream perchance now real,

Her moment plucked from time to steal

Nature’s embrace o’er mans poor folly,

To enhance a vision of yester year,

The passive encroachment of flower, of tree,

Oh Spectral shell at last to sleep.

Inspiration divine and vista complete, Through toil and pain to make manifest, ‘What dreams of man… here at rest.

© 2003, ~Mark Turner

The fruits of labours, never lost.

However, deep, dark and down she hides,

Consumed in pity, a faerie cries,

Alas …… But naught for us.

This game of love, the promise of pleasure, the pleasure of gain,

All too soon… The sorrow, the Shame.

When left with nothing, clutching self doubt, My emptiest nothing is to live without.

A faerie in her room

“I saw her fly” Melissa cried,

A silhouette against the moon.

From star to tree and bough to flower,

To alight upon my bed for hours.

She smiled and told of lands beyond,

Of faerie mirth and Elvin song,

Of dragons fire in jewelled caves,

And a wicked witch who’s now a slave.

Of a magic Isle in dark wood deep,

Where Faerie lore is safe in Keep,

Here colours meld and become as one,

Reflecting, stars, Moon and Sun.

Much more than this I cannot say,

For I closed my eyes, but once to blink,

My nose I scratched…And then I sneezed!

To my surprise and her dismay,

I’d drenched my Fay in bogie spray!

I wonder why she flew  away?

“Up yours you, you Ouuuh!! “ Mrs Evelyn Bowrain-Smith stopped herself in mid flow and regained composure before she regretted another word. Having her 12yr old granddaughter Asrina living with her had its advantages, but the language you pick up from children these days, well…

Safely on the right side of the road again the house was far behind her, but it was continually in the forefront of her mind, even now, on the way to the post office to pick up a recorded delivery parcel she’d missed yesterday, her thoughts were being continually drawn to that awful morning.

“Come on now Evelyn” she said to herself as the bike sped along “enough doom & despondency, let’s have cheery thoughts”

The air was fresh and sweet with the scent of cherry blossom after the previous nights freak Thunder storm, her flared nostrils endeavouring to vacuum up every aroma, as she dodged the puddles by the clogged up storm drains, her mind pondering the weighty question, “portable bell chimes a worthwhile investment?” If she’d had one, as Asrina suggested, Evelyn wouldn’t miss so many callers including the eagerly awaited delivery when pottering about in the garden.”

Until she regained her strength and was in possession of her parcel Nothing thoughts, the mundane, even Daytime TV with Richard & Judy, were employed to distract her mind from No.66, nothing. Thoughts didn’t work, the mundane was…well, mundane and as for Richard and Judy! With this thought and a rare smile She arrived at the Post Office to collect her eagerly awaited Package.

For, you see, Mr Simon Kard O’Creed the owner of No66 had disappeared in the proverbial puff of smoke, although as yet, all she knew, was that he had gone awol, leaving no note, nor apparently even informing his office, judging by the messages she’d heard being left on the answerphone. But as time went on he was presumed drowned, after his car was found at low tide down stream from Richmond bridge.

Evelyn “did” for the now deceased Mr O’Creed on Mondays, Wednesdays & Fridays, nothing too heavy just general cleaning and tiding for a few hours. She had often been asked to do more, but always said she had business of greater magnitude to attend to, what that was no one knew, although Asrina had some inkling.

Evelyn had come to work at 10am, as usual that Wednesday morning, & as usual Mr O’Creed had left for work. She washed up, tidied and dusted as usual, vacuumed, as usual and placed the post on his desk as always. Friday was no different, apart from two things, the post had not been opened or removed from the matt and there was a strange acrid smell in the hall, but nowhere else! Pouring bleach down the hall toilet and putting the bottle on the closed lavatory lid {a precaution in case Mr Creed received any splash back and with bleach it can sting something awful!} she let herself out of the front door.
Monday morning arrived & she stood at the gate to No66, noticing for the first time that Mr O’Creed’s car was missing, but couldn’t recall it being there last week either, perhaps he’s gone on holiday, she muttered to herself though not dwelling on it as
she rang the doorbell. On Monday Mr O’Creed left late for the office and caught the 11.45 to Waterloo, and Evelyn thought it polite to announce her arrival.
“ Hello…..Hello Mr O’Creed….are you in? Obviously not judging by the accumulation of post and that smell, dear me, so much for killing 99% of all known germs dead.
I might’ve known O’Creed would have the other 1%”

The Sun flooded in through the French doors in the study which overlooked the rear garden, she placed the unopened letters on the desk along with last weeks post and stared through the window, an uneasy feeling washed over her as she opened the doors and stepped onto the patio. All seemed right in the garden, yet a creeping feeling of nausea began to smother her very being, clutching her stomach with one hand, the other held over her mouth, she half stepped half stumbled off the patio, down a small flight of herring bone brick steps and between the two lead gothic urns Mr O’Creed had purchased up Portobello market Last month. The dank, acrid smell from the hall filled her nostrils causing Evelyn to choke and vomit as she was drawn towards the area of meadow grass, Corn cockle and poppy around the old Oak tree far to the end of the half-acre grounds.
Voices, yes she could hear voices, one sent a chill through her spine the kind of ice numbing dull pain you only get on the receipt of news of the worst magnitude, death. The other seemed somehow familiar…….. further away, calling as if in haste, far from beyond, attempting to stiffen her resolve and reassure.

“Evelyn… Evelyn.. Bowrain Just a little further there’s a good mummy, NOW STOP aaand,.. All fall down. And down you’ll go, deep, deep down and don’t forget t’is your soul I need with the Talisman please, there’s a gooood girl………..

“Evelyn Bowrain, what be wrong,
A humans life should not be long,
Many years on borrowed time,
Now I think it’s time to die”

Sweating and dizzy now, her eyesight becoming blurred & doubling over in pain Evelyn fumbled desperately, instinctively in her breast pocket, pulled out a coin she’d carried with her since, since…….so long ago, and clutching it she collapsed on her knees, but she could see, definitely see there was something moving at the bottom of the garden, something, something like…

Darkness overcame her, a suffocating, treacly blackness experienced only once before, then… a distant thud and she lay sprawled in the middle of a fairy ring in front of the Oak.
Another voice, quieter this time, softer…loving yet urgent became louder and dominant, forcing the other to recede
“Mothure………Mothure , I no’s e can eer me, I can do no more now, y’ur elp be needed ere.
Beware, o the magic in this ouse, the darkness is strong an calling, I can elp only so much, be wary mum be wary…”
Evelyn Bowrain Smith (as she now was) lay motionless face down in the ring, her fingers white with terror, clenched around a strange coin, about the size of an old half crown, but bronze with a green luminescence. For all her appearance Evelyn was no ordinary Grandma and the coin, well it had saved her life, for now at least.

An eternity passed before Evelyn stirred, she felt as if she had been struck by the lout in the green van, but no such luck, regaining her senses panic ensued, her mind still foggy began to clear then race out of control, The malicious voice forcing her to collapse and the coin, yes the coin, these past 400yrs a useless widget, but it seemed to have saved her, then the soft voice with the old, yet familiar accent…. Tears welled in her eyes, as she lay sobbing immobile amongst the Meadow grass. Eve,…it could only be Eve……………

All that had happened less than one hour ago could not be explained, at least to the authorities, but once Composure had been regained and still a tad red around the eyes, Evelyn caressed a hot mug of sweet steaming tea awaiting the arrival of the police. One thing she was sure about, Mr Simon (bloody) Kard O’Creed was not on holiday and if he was, her sixth sense told her it was permanent.

On this particular commission  the children had a large play room and the brief was to transform the room including magical castles, murals and free standing characters to act as screens to disguise the TV. I also had to allow for storage of toys.

To this end I designed and built two castles, one a large toy cupboard and the other a play house/castle. The toy cupboard had a hidden stereo fitted and two hundred fairy lights to create atmosphere in the evenings. The play house had small arrow slots with stained glass,  a red flicker bulb on the highest tower and the inside was painted as a palace with sweeping stair case. I turned the top of the radiator into a bridge and used free standing fretted paintings to hide the fireplace which was also fitted with a light and auto dimmer to simulate sun rise and sun set.

Every inch of the room was painted with characters and woodland/views all tied together to tell a story. This commission lasted three months and resulted in decorative paint finishes and murals in many other rooms in the house.