32. and 33. Always Sketching

Time for another post from the old sketchbook! These two images were sketches I drew on a random sheet of paper and liked so much I cut them out and pasted them into my sketchbook to finish them. Thus the cutout lines. 

These pasted in sketches remind me of some advice that the scientist Henry Eyring gave his son. He said "You ought to find something that you love so much that when you don’t have to think about anything, that’s what you think about." Interestingly when I first went to college I thought I would major in Physics and Astronomy (Henry Eyring was a physicist) but even though I was somewhat interested in the subject, I spent all my free time drawing, sewing dolls, and thinking up stories. Not thinking about physics. In fact for about as long as I can remember I have been drawing, thinking up stories, and sewing dolls. So I switched my major to Costume Design, worked in the apparel industry, and now I'm finally back to sewing the occasional doll and writing stories. As long as my son continues to take long naps...

I'd love to hear what you think about!

Gigi - A Good Friend

So I have to admit, I used to read other doll maker's descriptions of their doll's personalities and demanding ways and laugh a little. Dolls are just dolls, they don't have personalities, let alone opinions, I thought smugly to myself. That was before I met Gigi.

When I started on Gigi's clothes, I found a silk skirt in my fabric bin that I thought would make a perfect dress for Gigi, twirly and colorful and fun. However, although Daphne, Gigi's little girl, loves twirly dresses and glittery things, she also likes Tae Kwon Do and climbing trees. Not great activities to do in silk, so I decided to make Gigi a more practical cotton play dress instead.

Fast forward a few hours and there I sat staring at a half sewn cotton dress, depressed. I think Gigi was actually frowning at this point. The dress was just wrong, and we both knew it. I gave up and pulled out the silk.

A few hours later Gigi was happy again, but although I was feeling better too, I knew the dress was just not practical. How will she climb trees in that? So, I decided to make her outfit a little more multi purpose.

By adding some practical cotton shorts!

When she realized how much easier it was to play outside in them, Gigi seemed to accept the shorts, and with her hair up out of her face she is ready for anything. Except shoes. I tried and tried to convince her, but she is a barefoot girl.

When I first heard from Daphne's mom that Gigi needed to have "Ariel" red hair and black eyes (They actually ended up a really dark brown, almost black), I was a little worried that I would like her, but she has been so much fun to create. She prompted me to improve a lot of my construction techniques to make her a fitting playmate for a little girl, and she helped me discover my new favorite yarn store in my quest for the perfect red hair. She reminded me that imagination is key to creativity, and about the importance of both real and imaginary friends. Basically she reminded me about the many things that come so naturally to children, but are often difficult as adults. So although we have never met in real life I have a great admiration for Daphne, who inspired all this. Her family is lucky to have such an amazing little girl, and hopefully she will enjoy many imaginative adventures with Gigi, in her shorts and her silk :)

*Special thanks to Janette for the amazing photos and for introducing me to Daphne and her family!

Sneak Peak of Gigi

Gigi is waiting for some clothes and getting excited for her home down South, which will hopefully be warmer and sunnier than here!

31. Midieval Costume Recreated

Fires roaring, a table bowing under the weight of a feast (featuring a boar's head, of course), and the music of the lute and viol, that is what I think of when I see this picture. And it gets me super excited for Thanksgiving and Christmas, times when I get a similar feeling of warm abundance. 

This sketch was actually inspired by a sketch from the awesome book Midieval Costume and How to Recreate It. I think it is one of my all time favorite historical costume books.

You can actually see the cloak I copied on the bottom right of the cover. And I just realized I based a later sketch off of the top right image as well... For some reason the sketches in here really inspired me. How about you? I'd love to hear what books/music/artists inspire your creative side.

30. 2020 Fashion Predictions

I don't normally like to draw modern fashion, but one day I decided to try a predict the future. Who knows, maybe in five years it will be accurate! Based on how well I predicted my own life so far though I doubt it. Interestingly though, although a lot of the details are very different than I expected (My husband's hair color, the fact that I am living East of the Mississippi, my major in school, etc.), the essentials are working out pretty well. I'm happily married, graduated from college, and am currently a stay at home mom who sews dolls :). Hopefully by 2020 my personal improbably epic adventure will still be good in the essentials. How about you? Is your life the way you expected it to be as a child?

29. Tree Bridge

Another post from the original sketchbook, it seemed appropriate for the season. I've got another doll (my first custom!) and a story underway, so I might not be posting much for a bit, but I'll try and update occasionally!

Elise

“Elise! You should come study with us tomorrow!” Lena said as they left their final review session together. “I can’t” Elise replied, “I’m going home for the break before finals.” “Going home? Are you crazy, when will you study?” “I’ve got the whole ride back, it’s nearly eight hours you know.” “You are crazy, you can’t pass senior exams with only eight hours of studying on a cart ride!” “You’re forgetting the ride back” Elise said. “Sidsel is going back too I hear. I don’t understand you Bindiners, leaving at a time like this.” Lena said. “Family is important to us.” Elise said, not wanting to get into details that most people didn’t understand or believe. “Well me too, but I don’t risk my entire education just to go see them!” “It’s more of a risk to not see them” Elise muttered, but Lena had already moved on to another topic and didn’t hear.

After parting from Lena and reaching her room, Elise changed quickly out of her student robes and into her traditional Bindin clothes. Then throwing a few other essentials into a bag she hurried to the college gates. Sidsel was already waiting there beside her father’s wagon. He had come to the city to trade and had offered to bring Elise back to Bywater with them. She had at first decided to decline the offer. Senior exams were rumored to be nearly impossible to pass, the medical herbs section alone was said to have reduced students to tears. She didn’t want to fail, to waste all the sacrifice and effort it had taken to get into the Healer’s College, because she had spent the time at home instead of studying. But then she had reviewed her bindings. Her tie with Liesel had been fraying when she left, but when she pulled on it suddenly a few months back in the midst of a tense dispute with some hall mates, it had nearly snapped. Her tie with Len was fraying from overuse of his amazing memory, and there was no way it would last through finals without rebinding work. Even her ties with her parents were weakening, and she barely had a thread going to Rose, since she had left almost immediately after her birth. And there were the twins, constantly drawing on her for help with injuries too numerous to count. Even Becca and Tom could use some rebinding. And then there was Micah. Elise decided to go. She couldn’t afford not to. But she would have to make every minute of study time count.

It was late afternoon of the following day when the cart at last pulled into Bywater, and seeing it’s thatched roofs begin to appear Elise replaced her books in her bag. She was too antsy to study any more anyway. “I’ll just walk from here” she said, loudly enough that Sidsel’s father could hear her. “Are you sure? I don’t mind taking you all the way.” he said, glancing back towards her. “I’ll be fine, I want to see the woods and fields again anyway.” she said, jumping down as he slowed the horses for her. “Thank you so much for the ride!” she said. He just nodded in response, and Sidsel waved goodbye as Elise turned and headed towards the fields that led to her parent’s farm. She walked slowly, taking in the beautiful scenery that she had missed so much in the noise of the city that surrounded the College. She was over halfway there when she saw a bunch of wild Thortin and bent down to examine it. It was late in the season, but it might still be harvest-able, and its roots were one of the best treatments for fever. In fact she believed it was primarily Thortin that had saved Liesel’s life from the horrible fever that had left her blind. It was that illness that had convinced Elise to seek further training at the college, she had hated wondering if something she didn’t know might have helped.

Elise was still examining the plant, lost in thought, when she heard the sound of movement in the grass and looked up. Micah was standing several feet away from her, staring. Elise found herself blushing. She stood up, hoping the fading light would hide her flushed cheeks. It had been over a year since she had seen him, that awful night by the pond when she had told him she was leaving. They hadn’t communicated since, and Mother had barely mentioned him in her correspondence, probably thinking that it was best to leave things be. For all Elise knew he had taken her advice. He might even be married now. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, then Micah took a few steps towards her. Elise could see that he was just as red as she was, and she thought of Tom’s saying that some people grew to look like their pets but Micah grew to look like his work. It was true, his coal black hair and cheeks almost constantly reddened from the heat of the forge or of his embarrassment reflected perfectly the iron and fire he worked with. Elise had never met anyone as shy as Micah. Or as quiet. So she was surprised when he spoke first, in a friendly tone. “Welcome home. I see you too are delayed by your work. Do you think your mother will forgive us?” Elise laughed and said “She can be quite fierce, we should probably hurry.” and bent to pick up her pack. “Shall we trade?” Micah said, handing her a large bunch of wildflowers and slinging her pack over his shoulder. “Oh, thank you!” she said, surprised again. Since when was Micah more at ease in such a situation than she was? “These are beautiful!” she said, trying to fill the silence while she gathered her composure. “I brought them for your mother. They are her favorite and although most are gone now there is a late blooming field of them on my land.” “I’m sure she will love them. Do you still eat with the family often?” she asked, fishing for information. “Not like I used to. I am busy lately. But I go when I can. Now my grandfather is dead your parents are the closest thing to family I have left.” Elise let out a silent breath of relief. He must not be married then.

“I know my parent’s consider you like one of their own children.” she said, and he gave a soft, humorless laugh before saying “Yes, just as you do.” Elise winced at this reference to their last meeting, then said softly “Did you take my advice then?” “I did. I think I have danced with every girl within fifty miles of this place. Tom helped me.” Elise laughed at that. “You couldn’t have found a better teacher!” “Yes, I learned a lot, as you said. And relearned something I already knew.” “What was that?” she asked, but in the pause between his statement and her question an odd noise had begun. It was a strange mix between a squeal and a click. “I have a guess” he said, but before she could clarify what she was asking about there was a rustling in the trees and suddenly Ivan dropped seemingly from the air into the path in front of them. “Elise! I knew you would come this way, but Ian said we had to keep watch everywhere. Well, at least I found you first! I better give the signal” he said, rising from the crouch he had landed in and putting his hands to his mouth. He proceeded to make a loud hooting noise, similar to that of the owls native to that area. “I’m glad you’re here too Micah,” he said as he finished. “Did you hear that odd noise? Something has gone wrong with this slider. We were going to bring you out later to show you but since you heard it you can fix it faster. Do you want to look at it now?” he said, tugging on Micah’s partially rolled up sleeve. “Let me think on it” Micah said, removing Ivan’s hand gently. “Whatever is a slider?” Elise asked as they began moving forwards again. “Oh, it is the greatest thing. Tom thought of it, but Micah designed it, and built it. It’s a small wheel with these handles that you put on a rope and it lets you slide through the air! Micah made us several, and Ian and I set up ropes all round the farm, so now we can get round in no time at all! We added Micah to our secret band as an honorary member for inventing it.” Ivan said seriously. Elise saw that Micah was red again. “It was Tom’s idea” he said. “‘Oh, I know, but he always has crazy ideas, but you actually make them. Besides we made him a member a long time ago. Ian says we should make you a member Elise, as our physician, since you gave us such good advice after the wasps. He says it will make our bond stronger so we can get even more help, but it’s a bit tricky since you’re a girl…” A loud hooting was heard at that moment, and Ivan grimaced. “That’s Ian, he’s back at the house already, they’ll all know you’re here now. Bother. I was hoping to beat him back so we could surprise them all. Come on, Mom’s got chicken pie for dinner, so let’s hurry!” he finished, and took off at a brisk trot.

Elise smiled after him, amazed at how much he had grown in just a year. “I gather you have been saving the life of a few more siblings” Micah said, watching Ivan’s retreating form. “They do manage to get into scrapes with an alarming frequency. That’s partly why I came back, we’ve about worn out our bond with all the wasps and hidden pits and who knows what they manage to find. It’s amazing what just seeing him again does to rebind.” “Yes. That’s partly why I visit your parents so much.” he said. Elise nodded. Micah’s mother had died when he was ten years old and he had been sent to live with his grandfather, Bywater’s blacksmith. Micah’s grandfather had been a bitter, angry man, and Elise’s mother had been so worried about Micah living alone with him that she had offered to bond him into their family. He had practically grown up with them ever since. “Ivan’s not the only one who has grown. I think that you will find Liesel happy to see you again.” Micah said seriously. Elise looked up at him, startled. “Do you really think so? I have been so worried about our relationship, it’s been bad ever since her illness, well, you know. But I don’t know what to do, I don’t understand why she hates me!” Micah just shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you. I don’t think anyone could.” Elise stopped. They were nearly to the house, but she decided her family could wait a few more minutes. “Then you don’t hate me, for, for leaving?” she asked. He turned to face her.  “I’m not going to lie, I did at first. But I have learned that you were right. Neither of us was ready. It wouldn’t have worked.” Elise laughed. “It’s funny that you say that, because I feel like I have learned that you were right. There really isn’t anywhere better than Bywater. I’m grateful for what I have learned, but I’ve decided against staying longer in the city after all. Once I have completed my internship I am going to come back here. Auntie is getting old, and she offered to let me take over for her before I ever left. I think I will accept, if she will still have me.” Micah was silent, examining her closely. “And what about my offer?” he asked quietly. Elise flushed yet again. She was getting worse than he ever was! “I think I will accept that as well, if you will still have me.” she said. And so it was that when Ian and Ivan discovered them a few moments later they instantly and unanimously voted to suspend Micah’s membership, pending further review, for the crime of being caught kissing a girl, a crime made even worse by the fact that it was their sister.

The Meadowbee Family, from left to right: Len, Liesel, Ian, Mother, Baby Rose, Elise, Father, Ivan, Micah, Tom, and Becca

*Special thanks to my friend Janette for the amazing photography! We managed to pick the coldest day of the month I think but she still got amazing shots. Also to my husband for giving me the idea for this story. I was having a hard time coming up with Elise's history, but when I showed her to him for some reason in our conversation he asked "She has a family, doesn't she?" That question led me to make the Meadowbee family sketch, which then led to the story above.
**Elise's story is very loosely based on the life of Minerva Teichert, one of my favorite artists. You can read her biography by clicking here.

Another Doll

Well my latest doll is finally finished! This picture is from her photo shoot, and thanks to my amazing new photographer friend we got some great pictures, despite the unexpectedly cold weather! I'm finishing up a short story to go along with her and then I will post more pictures, so stay tuned!

28. The Simple Tunic

I have an interesting relationship with clothing. I love clothing, and I hate fashion. This was especially true of me as a teenager, when all I wanted to wear was a sweatshirt, which I considered the greatest article of clothing ever invented. In fact later sketches from this book show some of my attempts at designing the ideal sweatshirt. I later learned to appreciate other forms of clothing, and especially enjoyed the thrill of the hunt at thrift stores. However, in recent months I have been trying to apply minimalism to my life, and am working towards a minimalist wardrobe, similar to the one I designed in this sketch. There is something very liberating about having just a few classic nice pieces with some good accessories instead of stacks and stacks of clothing that I hardly wore anyway. It frees up your mind for better things. Like drawing :)

If you are interested in minimalism, I liked this site as a starting point.

27. Regency Period Dress

This sketch was to plan out a doll outfit that I ended up making. I will hopefully update these sketches with pictures someday!

26. Cliff Dwelling

The next series of sketches from my old book are not my favorite, so I will just comment on them briefly. This sketch was inspired by a photo like the one below. It was around the same time that I started this sketchbook that I discovered travel photography books, and I sketched some of the scenes that really sparked my imagination. It's fascinating how much real life is like a fantasy story sometimes!

25. The Dragon Post - An excerpt from The Encyclopedia of Goan

Plate 7.1 Dragon Rider in the standard D. P. uniform modeled after the dragon's appearance

Dragon Post, the. (2 GR - Present) A mail and small parcel delivery service comprised of human riders and their dragons. This delivery service was established in the second year of the Goanian Republic when the Outer Islands joined the Goanian mainland government. Rapid communication with the island states was crucial to the new alliance, and the Dragon Post became a key instrument in cementing strong relationships between the republic members. 

Plate 7.2 Map of Phle Goan showing key Dragon Post routes**

The D. P., as it came to be known, is most famous for its role in the prevention of the Desdria uprising, but stories of the feats of the route riders are legendary and too numerous to be included here. Although the original riders were volunteers, riders now receive extensive training at the D. P. Academy before being accepted into service. This academy was established by one of the original route riders, Damion Torell, three years after the start of the D. P after several of the original volunteers were lost to storms and dragon panic on the long ocean routes. The academy's stated purpose is to provide training in survival, dragon management, and navigation to better prepare riders for the difficulties involved in route riding, especially those encountered in the storm plagued ocean passages. Despite the dangers associated with the D. P., positions as route riders are highly sought after, and official riders are respected by all of the states, even in times of political disagreement. 

See also: Desdria Uprising, the. Jones, Mac "The Gull". Torell, Damion.

**The map for this post was created using the Nortantis Fantasy Map Generator, with a few edits in Gimp. You can download the generator for free here.

24. Desert(ed) Factory

I'm almost done with another doll, but I wanted to get through a few more of the historical sketches series real quick. My family traveled quite a bit when I was a child, and to me everywhere we went had a story lurking around the corner. Streams had a girl with her dinosaur wading through them, old stone houses had a peasant girl about to set out on a great adventure living in them. And, strangely enough, something about a mining plant out in the middle of the desert on the way to my grandparents also had a story to tell, apparently. I still think it is a cool looking plant, almost abandoned looking even though it is still very functional, but the story, if there ever was one, has left me. 

What about you? Do you see stories in the places you go? I noticed that I didn't as much when I was busy with school and work, but when life slowed down a little I started getting inspired again, which was a good reminder to me about the importance of slowing down occasionally!

The Dragon Scholar

***This post finishes the story I started in my last post. A few days after posting it I was flipping through one of my more recent sketchbooks and found the sketch above, which I drew a few months ago. I distinctly remember drawing it and thinking "Why did I draw them dancing?" I guess this story must have already been in my subconscious or something, because it works perfectly, even the outfit Aislin is wearing is right. I'd like to give special thanks to my wonderful mother, for helping me edit. Hopefully between the two of us we got most of the typos. Hope you enjoy!

The Dragon Scholar

By Julie Heydorn

Chapter One

What am I doing here? Ember thought to himself as he looked about the hall full of swirling, happy dancers. He had given up dancing years ago, after his injury, so why was he at a village dance? Was he really that bored? Apparently anthropological observations of one of the few groups still untouched by dragons was not his cup of tea. He would not be tricked by Professor Illsley so easily again. “Fascinating insights from a dragonless culture” indeed. He should stick with what he knew he loved. He should spend his time finding a bonder for the Aerid instead of sitting here taking notes on ethnic dance. He glanced around the room, only to have his gaze rest on a young woman who seemed at least as bored as he was. Well, perhaps bored was not the right word. She seemed, abstracted. Lost in thought. Not the usual appearance of a young woman at a lively dance. She was blond like most of the Marsi, but of a color so light it was almost white. Large distracted eyes under dark lashes appeared to be green, but she was too far away to be certain. Ember caught himself thinking she was by far the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Since when did he care about that? As a scholar, indeed the youngest scholar to ever attain professorship at the university, he was too busy to be chasing after girls like other young men his age. He refocused his gaze to her attire, which was one of the more interesting aspects of this culture. The Marsi told much about themselves through their traditional dress. Lets see, Three rows of shoulder panels, that meant she was fairly wealthy. Knee length skirt indicated a young but fully grown adult. The lack of a triangular embroidered panel on her bodice meant she was unmarried, and the embroidered strips on her skirt indicated her clan. Dragon scales dangling from her hair and shoulder panels were used as a ward against danger in this society. Interesting, but only mildly. As he took in these details he could not help but notice as several men approached the girl for a dance, only to be abruptly refused. They left in varying degrees of disappointment and embarrassment, and the girl continued her pondering.

Ember suddenly found himself on his feet and walking with his mild limp towards her. He was going to ask her to dance. Why not? There was nothing else to do, and since he also wished to be somewhere else, perhaps she would actually agree to dance with him. Reaching her bench, he cleared his throat.  “I hesitate to venture where so many have failed, but would you do me the honor?”  he said, amazed to find himself blushing slightly. She stared at him for a moment, then said, with a slightly puzzled look “Are you asking me to dance?” “Um, yes” he replied, almost as amazed as she seemed to be. There was another pause, where her sparkling eyes, which he could now see were definitely green, seemed to stare right through him. Then she nodded and said “Yes, I will ‘do you the honor.’”She repeated his words dubiously, as if unsure of whether they were proper or not. He smiled, as much at her response as at his own happiness at her acceptance. What had come over him? He didn’t even know her! As they moved into place and began to dance, the girl seemed to slip away once more into thought. After several moments of silence he finally broke it, saying “Pardon me, but you seem unusually abstracted this evening. Is something amiss?” “Abstracted?” she questioned back, and he clarified “withdrawn, preoccupied,” and at her confused look he added “thoughtful.” “Oh,” She responded. “Yes, I am afraid I have quite a problem before me tonight.” “Well, it is clearly not trouble finding a partner, as you seem to have your pick of anyone here!” He remarked. She blushed slightly at this, and after sending a quick, enquiring glance into his face said “Actually, in a way you are right. I am forced to choose a husband by the end of the night, or have one chosen for me” she said with a grimace. Ember startled. He had not thought such things happened outside of history books these days. “Picked for you! Ah, I see. And is it so hard for you to choose on your own?” “Yes.” She said succinctly. “Ah. And why is that? There seem to be many handsome young men here to choose from.” She looked searchingly around the room, as if needing to confirm his observation, before replying with some doubt. “Yes, I suppose. But actually I don’t care about that” “Oh, then what exactly do want in a husband?” He asked curiously. “Books” She replied, and Ember startled again. She looked up at him and then down at his leg in response, obviously concerned about his limp, and he shamelessly used the opportunity. “I find I tire slightly. Shall we sit for a moment?” She nodded, and he moved them to an empty bench. “Books?” He asked once they were seated. picking up on her brevity. “Well, I want to learn to read, and then to read lots and lots, and I don’t think any of the--the options, own anything besides an almanac.” “Perhaps if they knew your interest in them they would acquire some.” He suggested. She laughed at that, and apparently considered that enough of a response. Ember sat silently for a moment, rubbing his leg abstractedly, first in thought and then, as his thoughts reached a conclusion, in an embarrassment he hadn’t felt in years. “Well then, would you possibly consider marrying me?” he asked.

She stared up at him, amazed. “I don’t even know who you are!” She said, cutting to the central problem. “Oh, my name is Ember, well, Dashel actually, Dashel Thorpember. The 3rd.” he added meekly. “Ember Dashel Thorpember the 3rd?” She asked. He shook his head, smiling again. He hadn’t smiled at anyone so much in years.“My friends just call me Ember, for obvious reasons.” He responded, glancing up at his glowing red hair. “And who are you, Mr.---Ember?” she asked. “Well, it’s technically Sir, or Professor,  but I am a scholar and a--collector. From Inning.” “Oh. A collector? And what do you collect?” She asked suspiciously. “Dragons. Rare ones to be exact. I am currently endeavouring to discover and preserve ancient breeds before they are lost forever.” She stared back and him, suspicion and curiosity warring for dominance in her eyes. “Actually, you might be able to help me tremendously if you were to accept my offer.” Suspicion won. “How? Are you going to feed me to one of them?” she asked accusingly “Feed you to them?” Caught up in considering how anyone could have such nicely curled lashes, it took him a moment to return to the thread of conversation. “Oh, you mean like in the old tales.”He replied when it finally clicked what she was referring to. “Of course not! I believe they prefer lamb anyway, although some of the larger breeds go more for cattle,  so I doubt they would take you even if I tried... Which I wouldn’t!” He added hastily, realizing that he was not exactly strengthening his position talking like that. She snorted softly, then seemed to grow thoughtful. “If I went with you, you would teach me to read?” “On my honor” he said, and as her eyes narrowed, no doubt considering that she had no notion what his honor was, he added. “It would be my pleasure.” “And you’d let me read all I want after you teach me?” “My entire library, which I believe has spread from its original place to encompass two additional rooms, would be yours to enjoy” he replied. She shook her head slowly, the motion setting the dragon scales in her hair on fire with reflected light. Dragon scales. Even as he admired the effect of the light reflecting of of them and her eyes his mind took off. Scales. The villagers were covered in them, yet for some reason no dragons would fly to this valley high in the mountains. And the scale shape was unique. There had to have been a breed here at some point. He would have to make a further study...He snapped out of his thoughts hurriedly as he realized that the girl was speaking to him “Sir? Sir Ember?” “My apologies, I am afraid I got slightly distracted by your scales and their implications regarding the existence of dragons in this valley at some point in its history”. “You were thinking about dragons?” She asked in surprise, and Ember realized he had probably offended her. Who thinks about dragons while proposing to a girl?” “Ah, yes, I am afraid so.” She looked at him, appraisingly. “Well, in that case,  I guess I will, what was it that you said? ‘Do you the honor’?” Shocked that she had actually accepted, Ember’s mind whirled even as he found himself bowing slightly, smiling, and forming the words “Thank you.”

“We should tell my uncle immediately, or he’s likely to promise me to that fool Raldor” she said, and Ember obediently stood and followed her to the head of the room. He startled once again as they drew to a stop in front of the Chief of the clans. Ember had talked to him briefly on arriving at Marsin in order to gain his permission to visit for a while, but he had no idea that this girl was his niece. “Uncle, I have made my choice.” she said abruptly, and Ember noticed a sudden silence drop on all within hearing distance. What exactly had he gotten himself into anyway? No wonder all the young men were asking her to dance. She was the Chief’s niece and tonight was the night of her betrothal! Well, he’d certainly have some firsthand experience with Marsi customs to report to professor Illsley anyway. He caught back on to the thread of conversation around him. “--always knew you would choose young Raldor” the Chief was saying. “Actually, my choice is Sir Dashel Thorpember the 3rd” She said, squaring her shoulders as she interrupted the chief’s congratulations. “What!” he barked out, and Ember was suddenly grateful for years of intense university term examinations that had left him with a backbone of steel. “You!” He shouted at Ember. Ember just bowed, unsure of the procedure in such a situation. “We will have to have the ceremony now, as Sir Dashel is leaving first thing tomorrow morning.” She said, and Ember startled for what felt like the hundredth time that night. “Now?” The chief shouted, and Ember began to see where the girl got her brevity. He realized suddenly that he didn’t even know her name. What a mess! “Yes. Everyone is already here for the dance, we might as well make it a wedding.” she said. The chief stared silently, eyes bulging, and Ember prepared himself for an explosion, but it never came. Suddenly the chief deflated with a loud laugh. “Well I wanted to get you off my hands in a hurry, and it looks like you took me at my word. Steward! Bring the scepter, we’re having a wedding!”

So it was the Sir Dashel Thorpember the 3rd, Scholar and Dragon collector, found himself not only totally infatuated with a girl, but hearing her name for the first time as he knelt across from her at the feet of the clan chief in their marriage ceremony. “As chief of the Marsi clans and of the Aniul clan I now bind my niece Aniul Aislin to Sir Dashel Thorpember the 3rd, till the White Dragon flies again.” With that he lowered the scepter he had been holding aloft and pounded the floor with it three times, and the assembled guests broke into a confused but happy cheer. He suddenly realized he had no idea what to do next. Was he supposed to kiss her? Or was that taboo in this culture? Ember kicked himself for not spending more time studying that anthropological tome Illesly had given him before his trip. But before he could decide what to do they were surrounded and Aislin was being carried away by a swarm of happy revelers, and with some regret Ember realized that decided the matter, for now anyway.

To continue reading click here or on "The Dragon Scholar" in the "Stories" section on the right.

23. Aislin

**I have decided to try and make these posts from my old sketchbook more about the feelings I connect with them, and less about the process of creation unless it is really important. A few moments of thinking about this sketch led to--another story!

What am I doing here? Ember thought to himself as he looked about the hall full of swirling, happy dancers. He had given up dancing years ago, after the accident, so why was he at a village dance? Was he really that bored? Apparently anthropological observations of one of the few groups still untouched by dragons was not his cup of tea. He would not be tricked by Professor Illsley so easily again. “Fascinating insights from a dragonless culture” indeed. He should stick with what he knew he loved. He should spend his time finding a match for the Aerid instead of sitting here taking notes on ethnic dance. He glanced around the room, only to have his gaze rest on a young woman who seemed at least as bored as he was. Well, perhaps bored was not the right word. She seemed, abstracted. Lost in thought. Not the usual appearance of a young woman at a lively dance. She was blond like most of the Marsi, but of a color so light it was almost white. Large distracted eyes under dark lashes appeared to be green, but she was too far away to be certain. Ember caught himself thinking she was by far the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Since when did he care about that? As a scholar, indeed the youngest scholar to ever attain professorship at the university, he was too busy to be chasing after girls like other young men his age. He refocused his gaze to her attire, which was one of the more interesting aspects of this culture. The Marsi told much about themselves through their traditional dress. Lets see, Three rows of shoulder panels, that meant she was fairly  wealthy. Knee length skirt indicated a young but fully grown adult. The lack of a triangular embroidered panel on her bodice meant she was unmarried, and the embroidered strips on her skirt indicated her clan. Dragon scales dangling from her hair and shoulder panels were used as a ward against danger in this society. Interesting, but only mildly. As he took in these details he could not help but notice as several young men approached the girl for a dance, only to be abruptly refused. They left in varying degrees of disappointment and embarrassment, and the girl continued her pondering.

Ember suddenly found himself on his feet and walking with his mild limp towards her. He was going to ask her to dance. Why not? There was nothing else to do, and since he also wished to be somewhere else, perhaps she would actually agree to him. Reaching her bench, he cleared his throat.  “I hesitate to venture where so many have failed, but would you do me the honor?”  he said, amazed to find himself blushing slightly. She stared at him for a moment, then said, with a slightly puzzled look “Are you asking me to dance?” “Um, yes” he replied, almost as amazed as she seemed to be. There was another pause, where her sparkling eyes, which he could now see were definitely green, seemed to stare right through him. Then she nodded and said “Yes, I will ‘do you the honor.’”She repeated his words dubiously, as if unsure of whether they were proper or not. He smiled, as much at her response as at his own happiness at her acceptance. What had come over him? He didn’t even know her! As they moved into place and began to dance, the girl seemed to slip away once more into thought. After several moments of silence he finally broke it, saying “Pardon me, but you seem unusually abstracted this evening. Is something amiss?” “Abstracted?” she questioned back, and he clarified “withdrawn, preoccupied,” and at her confused look he added “thoughtful.” “Oh,” She responded. “Yes, I am afraid I have quite a problem before me tonight.” “Well, it is clearly not trouble finding a partner, as you seem to have your pick of anyone here!” He remarked. She blushed slightly at this, and after sending a quick, enquiring glance into his face said “Actually, in a way you are right. I am forced to choose a husband by the end of the night, or have one chosen for me” she said with a grimace. Ember starteld. He had not thought such things happened outside of history books these days. “Picked for you! Ah, I see. And is it so hard for you to choose on your own?” “Yes.” She said succinctly. “Ah. And why is that? There seem to be many handsome young men here to choose from.” She looked searchingly around the room, as if needing to confirm his observation, before replying with some doubt. “Yes, I suppose. But actually I don’t care about that” “Oh, then what exactly do want in a husband?” He asked curiously. “Books” She replied, and Ember startled again. She looked up at him and then down at his leg in response, obviously concerned about his limp, and he shamelessly used the opportunity. “I find I tire sllightly. Shall we sit for a moment?” She nodded, and he moved them to an empty bench. “Books?” He asked once they were seated. picking up on her brevity. “Well, I want to learn to read, and then to read lots and lots, and I don’t think any of the--the options, own anything besides an almanac.” “Perhaps if they knew your interest in them they would acquire some.” He suggested. She laughed at that, and apparently considered that enough of a response. Ember sat silently for a moment, rubbing his leg abstractedly, first in thought and then, as his thoughts reached a conclusion, in an embarrassment he hadn’t felt in years. “Well then, would you possibly consider marrying me?” He asked.

She stared up at him, amazed. “I don’t even know who you are!” She said, cutting to the central problem. “Oh, my name is Ember, well, Dashel actually, Dashel Thorpember. The 3rd.” he added meekly. “Ember Dashel Thorpember the 3rd?” She asked. He shook his head, smiling again. He hadn’t smiled at anyone so much in years.“My friends just call me Ember, for obvious reasons.” He responded, glancing up at his glowing red hair. And who are you, Mr.---Ember” She asked. “Well, it’s technically Sir, or professor,  but I am a scholar and a--collector. From Inning.” “Oh. A collector? And what do you collect?” She asked suspiciously. “Dragons. Rare ones to be exact. I am currently endeavouring to discover and preserve ancient breeds before they are lost forever.” She stared back and him, suspicion and curiosity warring for dominance in her eyes. “Actually, you might be able to help me tremendously if you were to accept my offer.” Suspicion won. “How? Are you going to feed me to one of them?” she asked accusingly “Feed you to them?” caught up in considering how anyone could have such nicely curled lashes, it took him a moment to return to the thread of conversation. “Oh, you mean like in the old tales.”He replied when it finally clicked what she was referring to. “Of course not! I believe they prefer lamb anyway, although some of the larger breeds go more for cattle,  so I doubt they would take you even if I tried... Which I wouldn’t!” He added hastily, realizing that he was not exactly strengthening his position talking like that. She snorted softly, then seemed to grow thoughtful. “If I went with you, you would teach me to read?” “On my honor” he said, and as her eyes narrowed, no doubt considering that she had no notion what his honor was, he added. “It would be my pleasure.” “And you’d let me read all I want after you teach me?” “My entire library, which I believe has spread from its original place to encompass two additional rooms, would be yours to enjoy” he replied. She shook her head slowly, the motion setting the dragon scales in her hair on fire with reflected light. Dragon scales. Even as he admired the effect of the light reflecting of of them and her eyes his mind took off. Scales. The villagers were covered in them, yet for some reason no dragons would fly to this valley high in the mountains. And the scale shape was unique. There had to have been a breed here at some point. He would have to make a further study...He snapped out of his thoughts hurriedly as he realized that the girl was speaking to him “Sir? Sir Ember?” “My apologies, I am afraid I got slightly distracted by your scales and their implications regarding the existence of dragons in this valley at some point in its history. “You were thinking about dragons?” She asked in surprise, and Ember realized he had probably offended her. Who thinks about dragons while proposing to a girl?” “Ah, yes, I am afraid so.” She looked at him, appraisingly. “Well, in that case,  I guess I will, what was it that you said? ‘Do you the honor’?” Shocked that she had actually accepted, Ember’s mind whirled even as he found himself bowing slightly, smiling, and forming the words “Thank you.”

To be continued...

Ella - A doll and a story

"When the hour of the ball arrived everything was ready. Ella set out alone in a carriage Lady Aurelia had ordered for her, since Ella had refused to travel together on the grounds that it would destroy her anonymity. She felt somewhat foolish taking a carriage at all, since Lady Aurelia’s lived within a short walk of the palace, but no one walked to a ball, and so the carriage it was."

- Excerpt from Ella Markan - or The Grass Slipper

Design sketch for Ella

The inspiration for this doll began with the fabric. My mother had given me some gorgeous blue satin brocade, and I had yards of blue tulle left over from another project. Combined they just screamed Cinderella, and with the recent release of the new film the story was one my mind anyway. The problem was, I have never been a big fan of Cinderella as a character, she seems a little spineless, and the fairy godmother is a bit deus ex machina to me. I like to like my dolls, and so I decided to rewrite Cinderella as a short story loosely based on the style of Georgette Heyer. It is not a true Regency period story like hers, and I don't claim a fraction of her skill, but I think it put a fun spin on the story.

With the story and the sketch in place I began to work. I tried out some needle sculpting on her face for the first time, and I love the technique, but I definitely need to practice. It was quite a process getting her face to where it is now, and if you saw my earlier post on her you will notice how much changed.  Her dress also changed quite a bit from the original sketch, but it was a great jumping off point.

Ella's full story is available here or you can access it in the side bar of the blog under the "Stories" heading. I had a lot of fun writing it and creating Ella, it was great to get back into doll making, so much so that I already have the idea for another one that I will hopefully work on soon. Until then I hope you enjoy Ella's improbably epic adventures.

And we're back!

Well, the "improbably epic" move is over, and now we are finally getting settled in, I will hopefully get back to blogging. Ella is finally finished, so I will be posting lots of pictures and her story soon, until then here is a picture from the photo shoot!

22. A Somewhat Russian Princess

I believe this sketch was inspired by historical Russian costumes that I saw, but I can't remember for sure. I think at this point I was much more confident about my faces, and she also has hands! Interestingly, just a few days ago I saw this tutorial about sketching braids, and looking at this I see I did it the way they say is "inaccurate". I guess it gets the idea across though!

21. Equestrian Desert Adventures

This may be yet another interpretation of Hari from The Blue Sword. It is also possible that I just saw an outfit like this one and thought it looked cool. I think I was going through a lot of books about ethnic costume at this point and pulling out things that I liked.
Again, what is it about certain things that makes them feel epic? Maybe just their foreignness, but ruins, archery, and riding a horse through the desert all seem to basically come with a story attached. Perhaps some desert nomad would look at my Civic and think the same thing though...

20. Jungle Explorer

I can't remember exactly what inspired this sketch, I mostly remember that while drawing it I realized that I don't really enjoy drawing plants. So I'm pretty sure this is the most nature heavy picture in my entire sketchbook.
It is interesting how interests differ isn't it? I am always impressed by people who can sketch plants and animals so well they look real. I just have never been interested in them enough to master that skill. It falls under what I am coming to realize is a category of things I think are cool and wish I could do but do not actually enjoy doing. It has taken me a while to learn to differentiate between the two, as my spinning wheel covered in the dusts of  numerous years of disuse can attest. I purchased it thinking how awesome it would be to dye and spin and weave my own fibers, and quickly realized that I just really don't enjoy spinning, even though I wish I did. One of my favorite blogs, The Art of Manliness, just posted a great article about this, which you can read here if you are interested.
How about you, do you have a hard time differentiating between things that you wish you liked and things you actually like?  

18 & 19 - Emblems of Adventure

Well, I have been a bit distracted lately, but I am going to try and get back to posting more regularly! I have been focusing most of my time on the doll, and Ella is nearly complete! I will hopefully post pictures and her full story very soon, she just had some last minute improvements come up that I need to complete. It has been a lot of fun getting back into doll making!

For now though, here are a few more sketches. I am posting two pages today because they are kind of connected. I really like the Japanese style crests that were used to identify families similar to how heraldry was used in Europe, so I decided to create some of my own. Thus the page full of crests. The Large one in the center was my signature for a while since it was made up of my initials. Now that I'm married I need to come up with a new one! 

This second image was my attempt to draw the ultimate adventure outfit. However, I didn't really do any research about what would be useful on an epic adventure, so I'm not sure that it is really practical. Oh well. I had fun drawing it.

Sidetracked by a Story

Sorry I have not been posting in a while. I have taken a break from my sketches for a moment to work on a side project :) I guess all that posting about dolls I have made in the past got me itching to make another. This one is still very much in the works, since she still needs some final touches (like clothes and a better wig), but she is coming along! I learned some new sculpting techniques for her face, which was fun, but I feel like I still have some kinks to work out.

I am also writing a short story for her, with a teaser included below.

Ella was finishing her last bite of a late breakfast when Fershim, Lady Aurelia’s butler, entered and coughed softly. “Good morning Fershim” “Good morning Miss Ella, if you will excuse me, a certain lady has called here several times in your absence, saying it is of great urgency that she speak to you. She returned again this morning, with two young ladies, and though I told her that you returned late last night and were not yet receiving visitors, she insisted I ask you. If you wish I will have them sent away directly” Fershim said. “Did she give her name?” Ella asked, scanning her brain to think of who could need to see her so urgently in Duren. She hadn’t been home in over a year now, between travelling with her father Sir Markan and then as her godmother Lady Aurelia’s companion. “Well, miss, she said that it was Lady Markan…” Fershim trailed off. Ella glanced up quickly, meeting Fershim’s gaze for just a moment before he transferred his to an impersonal study of the ceiling. “Lady Markan”... Ella repeated, then trailed off as well. Her mother had died ten years ago, when Ella was only nine, so if this truly was Lady Markan, it could only mean… Ella broke off her thoughts hastily and said “Tell her I will be down to see her in a moment” Ella said.

Can you guess what color her dress will be? I'll finish up the story and the doll in the next few weeks and then get back to sketches. Until then!

17. Exploring the Ruins

Just like archery, ruins have something magical about them I think. They have a sense of mystery that always hints at an adventure. 

That sense of mystery is heightened when the ruins are in a foreign country, so it is no surprise that when I came across a photo in a National Geographic photography book of some ruins in South America, it sparked my imagination. 

I sketched the photo, and I added a few explorers.

Unfortunately this was before I learned the importance of recording sources, so I can't find or credit the original photo. However, I think it was from the book Through the Lense, which was a beautiful book either way. 

Do you have a photograph that sparks your imagination?