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November 2015 Blog

20th - - -      - Today in the studio  . . . . 

Heroes and Villains Volume one 1 Peter Andrew Jones Solar Wind Book Peter Andrew Jones  Solar Wind Heroes & Villains Book Peter Andrew Jones Heroes and Villains Volume one 1 Peter Andrew Jones
This book is currently in production - you can pre-order here  now !


" TIME TRAVEL FRIDAY "

THE BIRTHPLACE

Commissioned new version underway.

Metalpoint in pure Gold.

Might look something like this . . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

In the birthplace that is our  magic studio garden . . . .

Sometime ago, the weather clement,
I'd planted another Oak, an Ash, a Mimosa,
a Monkey tree and beautiful, cascading bush,
which tumbled gracefully down the tall,
old kitchen garden wall . . . .

The Ghosts were given boxing gloves,
transformed by magic to transparency . . . .

The Ogre was jealous as could be, so
I built him a covered platform
down low in the Oak.
The Werewolves and the Wolverines
settled for transparent caves,
which appeared to them only when
the rains swept in, a tempest raged . . . .

For myself, I did not care,
for behind me was a "for tree" house ! !

Debbie & Peter





19th
" TIME TRAVEL THURSDAY "

THE FEMALE MAN

Commissioned new version underway.

Always fun to re-think and re-work.

Gives the opportunity to time travel, back and forth !



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

In from our magic studio garden
domestics are the focus of the day . . . .

The Faeries were hard  at work,
cleaning the staircase carpet.
After yesterday's coffee morning,
the stains of coffee cups knocked over,
slurped with vigour and spilt,
showed full blast all the way, from
top of the staircase to bottom . . . .

The Witch offered no such help,
choosing oblivious disinterest . . . .
The Ogre stomped across the garden,
nose a'streaming, eyes ditto!
Obviously feeling "under the weather,"
he sought a conflab with the Witch.

The dogs were not in best of moods -
their last-night's sleep had been disturbed.
Snarling, scowling, 'twas not long
before they "went for" a lone, elderly, Elf . . . .
Oh, dear ! !

Debbie & Peter





18th
" WATCHFUL WEDNESDAY "

Worlds collided, stars erupted, species were, and then were not; were formed, lived, died and were absorbed, and rose again. The universe expanded and then again, maybe contracted in its own unfathomable way and all was as it was meant to be, a thing of power, energy and beauty . . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

But . . .
beware - and be watchful
for the Spiral Wind is near  at hand. . . .

This dark and blustery winter morning,
I went downstairs a trifle later.

The broad and elegant, sweeping staircase
was adorned by Elves and Faeries, Pixies,
Imps, the Gnome, some ghosts and,
how they'd entered, birds of Rhiannon?!..

The chitter chatter of Elves and Faeries,
celestial bird song, and mythical creatures,
woke the day to a magic-like feel . . . .

Out in the garden, the Ogre was snoring
beneath the dripping, clothe less Oak.

The Wolverines were in the wood,
the Werewolves absent - gone a-hunting?
From the kitchen garden rose a plume
of delicately scented smoke,
the Witch pursuing her daily task
of weaving artful magic spells . . . .

Debbie & Peter





17th
" SOLAR TUESDAY "

VOLUME 2 of the classic series .

82 days and counting (down).

Ensure you get the edition number you want.

Contact now to reserve your copy.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog



Meanwhile

Out in our magic studio garden
fashion, is the focus of the day . . . .

The Flower Faeries, whatever the nature of "their own,"
changed the design, colour, and length of the chosen dress.
They mixed and matched whatever
leaves, plants or flowers for which it was the season.

The Witch was also fashion-conscious -
quite unlike her many kin.
I found the "fashionable parade,"
a most attractive sight!!

The Ogre, blissfully self-satisfied,
wore this and that, and the other.
Usually mis-matched, torn, discoloured . . . .
As long as he could sleep under the Oak tree,
he really could could not care or worry . . . .

This morning, having slept well, I
issued forth to greet my friends.
The Werewolves bayed, the Wolverines howled -
otherwise the mood was blissful . . . .

Debbie & Peter





16th
" SOLAR MONDAY "

83 days and counting (down).

Are you ready?

Will you be one of the very few proud owners,

of VOLUME 2 of the classic series . . . . . . . . ?



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in our magic studio garden
our friends clearing up, after the night of all Hallows . . . .

The Wizard, curious to poke his nose in
climbed the Oak, right to the top, chose a comfortable pew
arranged his cloak . . . .
He blinked each eye, then both together.
20/20 vision clear, he bent his head, focused.

The Faeries, their duties done,
sewed and darned and,
or,
embroidered.
(To tell the truth, they had mind to groom the magic Unicorn).

The Werewolves coursed across the lawn, destination?
The "field of pheasants . . . . "
The Wolverines would, doubtless
join the "Merry band of Robin Hood!!"
(Wolf in chief)

Ecstatic giggles from the Faeries,
ushered in the Unicorn.
Snorting, tossing mane and tail,
he began his early morning repast.
Alas . . . .
End of breakfast, end of patience,
the Faeries crept up, armed with comb and brush.

In dire temper, the Unicorn took off, and,
in his place came - why?
The Queen of our particular garden!!

Debbie & Peter





15th
" CELEBRATION SUNDAY "

http://www.librogame.net

Congratulations !

100th issue.

Check it out !



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile, out in the Garden . . . . .

Out in the garden early, over-early ! !
No sign of life or activity . . . .
The molehills were popping up everywhere.
One must look out for rabbit holes, too!

A fox had very evidently paid us a visit,
an otter or two were ensconced in the reeds.
In the boughs of the Oak tree Rhiannon's birds sang.
The Owl had yet to return from his predatory excursions.

I entered the almost barren kitchen garden an there,
wrapped in a rainbow-hued cloak of Angora rabbit hair,
she was lighting a fire beneath the cauldron.

Sensing my presence, she  smiled a "Witch's smile,"
showing wrinkles,
long white teeth, a pointed nose,
which twitched in disapproval . . . . 

I retired forthwith,
crossed the lawn to the wood.
Miniature wildlife creatures scuttled away to their smug,
hidden hidey holes

Debbie & Peter





14th
" SHATTERED SATURDAY "

Just 13 days now . . . . . . . and counting

(Friday the 13th was less of a worry).

Be sure to protect yourself . . . .

from the coming of the Spiral Wind  . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile, the Garden Witch has issues of her own . . . . .

The future is opaque
as far as schedules go . . . .
I am off to distant lands,
To follow the ancient Silk Road!

After that, who knows?
The Yellow Brick Road or,
what remains of the legendary Route 66 . . . .

Come hell or high water,
this I do know -
Whatever the outcome,
my future is now ! !

Debbie & Peter





13th

" SHATTERED FRIDAY "

Just 14 days now . . . . . . .

and counting (down).

Be sure to protect yourself . . . .

from the coming of the Spiral Wind  . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

In the sanctity of magic studio garden
we are safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

Banshees and Leprechauns, miniature Irish ponies,
winter-haired, tough . . . .
In my dreams I became overlord of Blarney Castle.

Instead, priority no.1 for today,
was to withstand the force of the,
unexpected, typhoon(?)

The magical creatures, even the Elves,
had felt its approach, ever more forcefully.
The Witch and Magician had constructed a shelter,
built to withstand the most violent of tempests.

The Queen of the Faeries, imperious, commanding,
laid down her rules for what should/should not be . . . .
The Owl blinked several times, re-entered his "house,"
head under wing, he slept deeply, at ease.

Everything, anything, had been tied down and covered
with ground sheets and/or tarpaulin.
The Unicorn, the Werewolves, Wolverines,
ghosts, disappeared in a shower of lyrical sound . . . .

If, and, and maybe, this does occur, ongoing bulletins will follow.
(Plus a detailed "damage" report)!
I'll re-open communication - adapt . . . .

Debbie & Peter





12th
" TIMETABLE THURSDAY "

All projects are now scheduled into the studio workflow.

Paint is mixed and tubed. Pencils sharpened. And more.

Off we go . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile, while we get back to work . . . . .

A warm November morning.
So far 'tis almost summer! . . . .
I wandered out to walk the lanes. jump puddles,
slosh through mud, cross fields.
Continue on till bored or tired,
rest and wander slowly back . . . .

Along the way I glimpsed Field Faeries,
Imps and Elves and Pixie folk.
The birds of Rhiannon serenaded me,
wheeling, soaring overhead.

Behind a hedge a cough, deep and Ogre-like in volume.
Creeping closer, I craned my neck . . . .when,
an Ogre,  stood up.
Cradled in his arms there slept a small,
pink-spotted, baby Dragon!!

With tender care and watchful footing he scaled the hedge,
and lumbered off.

A field mouse crept up a stork of grass.
It bent right over, the mouse went too,
landing head-first on its nose

A wood lay further along the valley,
blue hills rose still and calm and ancient.
I stood awhile, drank in the peace,
turned homewards,
Faeries following behind . . . .

And another surprise visitor - a Pheasant !

Debbie & Peter





11th
" BACK TO WORK WEDNESDAY "

Time to "Get the lead out"
(apologies to John Wayne)
but it helps to think of wild west movies
when (re-starting) the workload ahead is "wild" !



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile, while we were away "on the town" . . . . .

Went to the Tower of London.
Nobody imprisoned there at this moment in history,
but, just wait and see . . . .
One never can tell, one cannot know,
what the future may bring!!

Students, young and eager, ready "to go,"
slip with facility between their own language and English.
They are sure of the courses they wish to follow.
Determined, committed, lighthearted,
they work like Trojans
to achieve their objectives by day . . . .
In the evening they "chill out,"
let their hair down,
meet their friends for drinks or a meal
- or both ! !

Debbie & Peter





10th
" RETURNING TUESDAY "

Perhaps we need to return home now
and add some human management
to the magic studio garden ? ! ?



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile . . . . .


Stars?
Moon?
Hidden by city lights...
Cars - OK,
Bicycles? So-so. And,
Buses? No cash allowed,
trains?
Thus far . . . . not too bad.

The Witch, in her wisdom, travels by broom.
The Faeries fly, (unless offered a lift in my car).
The Elves, Pixies. Imps, the Goblin and Ogre
never really sort themselves out.
Each to his own.
What is wrong about that?

This morning, the Magician, with a singular guffaw,
swept down to land,
misjudged . . . .  and,
made a grand curtain call upside down in the pond.

The Werewolves an Wolverines,
ghosts that they be.
planted themselves firmly
where no creature could touch them . . . .

Debbie & Peter





9th
" MANAGERIAL MONDAY "

Perhaps we need to return home now
and add some human management ? ! ?



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

We've left our magic studio garden friends behind
to tend the magic garden
while we go out into the world beyond . . . .

The Faeries perched themselves upon each shoulder,
and my head.
We took the Underground
to where my business must be concluded.
Once there, they investigated everything . . . .

When all was done, signed and sealed,
we found our way to the city zoo.
They really didn't know what to do, how to do it!!

A Llama chose to spit at me -
after that the Faeries were fine (?)
A little shopping,
a snack then,
catch the train to home,
sweet home!!

Debbie & Peter





8th
" GIVE ME A HAND SUNDAY "

I do hope they are managing in our absence ? ! ?



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
We've left our magic studio garden friends behind
to tend the magic garden
while we go out into the world beyond . . . .

Would you believe that, who knows why,
the Faeries have accompanied me to the "big smoke ! ! "
I'm here to carry out some business, important,
but, a duty for which I have scant regard . . . .

The Faeries are wispy, translucent, hidden,
from any outside interference.
Their company is calming, enthusiastic, entertaining . . . !

The Elves cajoled and begged me - take us with you, please . . . .
I refused.
The Witch was able to distract them.
She wove a spell, and, (to my relief, they were distracted).

The noise, the traffic, the business of the "big smoke" city life,
scared the Flower Faeries witless . . . .
They'll be pleased to get back home ! !

Debbie & Peter





7th
" DEEP RED SATURDAY "

Time for a break, after so much catalogue work !



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
We've left our magic studio garden friends behind
to tend the magic garden
while we go out into the world beyond . . . .

A day in the City.
By gum!
Rush, rush for the underground train you must catch, or
the slow-moving bus which arrives when
the jam-packed traffic allows . . . .

I did spend an enjoyable morning
with my agent and publisher.
Now back to the task of writing three books!!

The Witch is quite pro to lend some assistance,
the Wizard/Magician will lend me an ear.
The Elves are preoccupied with dreaming up themes which,
with dedication and know-how,
they enact to cause mayhem . . . .

Today, the Faeries flew off at break of day,
to visit their kith and kin who live close to the sea . . . .

Debbie & Peter





6th
" AWESOME FRIDAY "
Yes ! Even yet more pieces added to the online cataloque !

http://www.peterandrewjones.net/catalog/page1.htm

Here's the specific link >

http://www.peterandrewjones.net/catalog/page2.htm



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog
Meanwhile
Out in our magic studio garden
the mist blots out the world beyond . . . .

Twisted words, double meanings,
accept the generous gifts we give you . . . . .
Broadband?  Reception? Are you joking?!!

This morning,
fit to bust,
I turned off both radio and tried and trusted,
mobile phone . . . . .
Relief!!

The art of telepathic talk must surely be within coo-ee distance?
Instead, I shut my eyes and counted sheep.
When I got to 85, calm, sweet calm, restored . . . .

The day proved mild, (worth staying out).
The garden was choke full of magic!
Faeries, Elves, the Unicorn, Ogre, Owl and, Witch, mingled  -
not a a temper-tantrum.

Even tide, a starless night,
both fell without a noise, serenely.
Standing at the garden door, breathing deeply, sighing,
to my consternation, a hullabaloo broke out.

Comets shot across the heavens, pandemonium shook the Oak.
The Magician, Wizard had crash landed - end of fence . . . .

Debbie & Peter





5th
" AWESOME THURSDAY "

Yes ! Even more pieces added to the online cataloque !

http://www.peterandrewjones.net/catalog/page1.htm

And - here's the specific update page >

http://www.peterandrewjones.net/catalog/page2.htm



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
Out in our magic studio garden
the mist blots out the world beyond . . . .


Work fini,
Reading in.
The Elves need a lesson in piping down . . . .

To my relief, and edification,
they'd been up all night, so, a peaceful day(?!)
Who knew?

Ensconced in an enormous chair,
beside an old- fashioned open fire,
I chose a book, and settled back,
opened it, page 1.

A rustle, tapping, scuffling, shuffling,
on the other side of the closed door . . . .  And ?
Irritated, I got to my feet, opened the door to see
Imps and Brownies, the Goblin,
Pixies craning forward awaiting me.
I bellowed, "Go!!
They scattered . . . .
Following the "last man out,"
I went outside to greet the Faeries.

Each, and every one was immersed,
learning how to cast Witch-like spells.
I stayed . . . .

Debbie & Peter





4th
" AWESOME WEDNESDAY "

Yet more pieces added to the online cataloque.

http://www.peterandrewjones.net/catalog/page1.htm

And - here's the specific update page >

http://www.peterandrewjones.net/catalog/page2.htm



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
Out in our magic studio garden
the mist blots out the world beyond . . . .



Straight t'wards the far horizon
sped Rhiannon's magical birds . . . .
The world was filled with rainbow colours,
a mellow sunlight lit the sky.

The Pixies blew sweet peas through short bamboo plant-props.
The Owl slept peacefully in the Oak.

The Witch, Magician, Ogre, Goblin,
flew pristine broomsticks high above the house and garden.

Wolverines an Werewolves slept.
The Imps, already bored,
climbed unbidden through a window in search of left over sweets.
They found, upon the hallway table, those from Halloween night . . . .
These disappeared into their pockets,
the gobstoppers into their cheeks.

The Faeries, be-decked in winter fashions,
perched atop the roots of leafless, woodland trees.
Tiny creatures, darkness done,
crept into holes and comfy nests . . . .

Debbie & Peter





3rd
" AWESOME TUESDAY "

More pieces added to the online cataloque.

http://www.peterandrewjones.net/catalog/page1.htm

And - here's the specific update page >

http://www.peterandrewjones.net/catalog/page2.htm



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
Out in our magic studio garden
the mist blots out the world beyond . . . .

The mist had blotted out
every corner of the landscape -
Curtain closed! What next?
Ah ha, I know,
where's my trusty Davy lamp?

To the garden shed I went,
found the lamp,
Voila . . . .

Wide-eyed Flower Faeries, tis was
Pixies, grey, smokey Werewolves,
stared, hypnotised, transfixed . . . .
The Witch, in a cloak of thick merino wool,
warmed herself near, near her fire.

The Owl, snug - the door was closed -
hooted disdain and "who cares-ness."

The dogs hared round the wood, barking,
growling, panting.
Ghosts and Spectres, bats and
Ogre did their bit to liven up the
ever-increasing obscurity.

I walked, trotted, jogged, ran, sprinted,
energy spent . . . .
Study, work!!

Debbie & Peter





2nd
" SHATTERED MONDAY "

25 days and counting (down).

To the unveiling of the truth.

Are you ready ?

Will you be safe. . . . from the Spiral Wind  . . . . ?




Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

In the sanctity of magic studio garden
we are safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

Today proved very, very interesting . . . .
whirling Dervish-like thoughts
ideas a pouring from where they're stashed . . . .

Awakening, and rising before the crowing of the rooster,
I went downstairs and issued forth to breathe fresh air and,
clear my fuzzy, befogged brain . . . .

The Owl breezed in, the Faeries slept,
the Ogre was snoring beneath the Oak.
Sparkling Faeries tip-toed forth, giggling, whispering, prepared to enjoy whatever the rest of the day might bring . . . .

The Elves, Imps, Pixies, the Goblin - and a
proved last, (but not least), to appear.
With an elegant display of aerial gymnastics,
the Unicorn landed and folded its wings,
careful to avoid those, too meticulous, busy, beings, the Flower Faeries!!!

I lifted my gaze to "read the sky,"
the sky -
'twas still dark, cloudless,
no stars to be seen . . . .
A solitary bird call, the sound of a crash (?)
Who should trip down the garden shed step,
fall flat on her face, swear like a trooper?
The Witch . . . .

With that the first scene in the "Play for today,"
began -
clearly to become an unforgettable day!!

Debbie & Peter





Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog





1st
" SOLAR (100) SUNDAY "

100 days and counting (down).

Are you ready?

Will you be one of the very few proud owners,

of this new addition to the classic series . . . . . . . . ?





Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in our magic studio garden
our friends are preparing, for the night of all Hallows . . . .

The gloves are off,
the Witch and Elves, Pixies,
Imps and Goblin, Wizard, too,
were settling in to a good,
strong bout of Boxing,
barehanded, as it used to be . . . .

The Werewolves and the Wolverines,
cloaked in translucent ghostliness,
took positions "in the wings,"
and, sat, eagerly awaiting the outcome
of the 3-round match . . . .

The Referee - the Owl, of course,
followed every move closely . . . .
When one and all lay prone,
exhausted, his decision?
Both parties, draw . . . .

My friend had missed a veritable display
of a variation on the theme
of how to start the day . . . .

His loss!!

Debbie & Peter







October 2015 Blog

31st
" THE EVE OF ALL HALLOWS "

A superb piece of art !

Beautifully carved and illuminated pumpkin.

Courtesy of Laura @ The Bucks Head in Church Stretton.

Excellent !

(c) Laura 2015



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

31st
" SIGNIFICANT SATURDAY "

It's newsletter time again !

More de-archived classics.

1st come, first served.

One-time-only offerings . . . . . .
.


Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

Meanwhile
Out in our magic studio garden
our friends are preparing, for the night of all Hallows . . . .

A very close and dear friend had arrived to stay and work.
His job entailed articles on anthropology, chiefly African  and Asian.

He usually spent most of each day locked behind the study door so,
why he came I know not . . . .
perhaps was for a change of scene(?)

I, as usual in the breakfast room, becoming bored,
went out to see what maybe was being wrought
and found the Unicorn had got a hat on!
(The Faeries had decided that, on the night of Halloween
the Unicorn should don some sort of weird costume . . . .

The Elves had nicked some leftover bread they'd found
when roaming round the kitchen.
Presently, the entertainment was,
 
throwing crumbs for the birds to feed on.
When the birds were pecking,
and stuffing themselves as full as full,
the Elves began to play "scare these hoodlums just for fun."

The Faeries, in the kitchen garden,
were grouped around the Witch
to watch the glittering magical spell
arising from the cauldron into the delicately scented air.

Ghostly Werewolves lay resting, after a busy night.
They'd gone into our Parish church
and passed the hours in the crypt.

The Unicorn had had enough.
Ridding himself of a Pixy's cap,
he spread his wings, the Faeries sighed regretfully.

Opening the garden doors,
my guest came through to join me.
With him came the dogs . . . .
End of action.

Debbie & Peter




30th
" ANNUAL FRIDAY "

Overall (front & back/contents) shot of the 2016  calendar.

Available from mid-November.

e-mail us here to reserve your copy.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

Meanwhile
Out in our magic studio garden
our friends are preparing, for the night of all Hallows . . . .

A Dragon had come into land
sometime during last night,
hell- bent on reaching Birmingham,
where he lived atop a glass skyscraper . . . .

He'd settled himself beside the pond,
amongst the reeds and rushes which,
gave him a modicum of cover.

The Elves, together with their kith and kin,
left him well-alone, knowing if they woke him,
they'd suffer scalding Dragon burns . . . .

My eyes alight upon the Unicorn, apprehensive,
unsure, snort and tentatively test,  the heat of his
shallow,wheezy, breathing.

The Witch was determined to indulge in a nap, or simply rest.
Her choice of winter bed and board was -
the warmish, roomiest garden shed . . . .

Ghosts and Spectres wafted, interweaved,
striving to avoid the Dragon
or cause him excursion and alarm.

I sat upon the steps, fully immersed in the scene,
picturesque, unusual, and golly gumdrops. quiet !

A translucent sun rose, shedding light.
His face, softly caressed , awoke and, whoosh,
Resumed his interrupted voyage . . . .

Debbie & Peter





29th
" ANNUAL THURSDAY "

Closer shot of the 2016 calendar.

Available from mid-November.

e-mail us here to reserve your copy.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

Meanwhile
Out in our magic studio garden
our friends are preparing, for the night of all Hallows . . . .

The Faeries felt that they
must change their costumes everyday . . . . .
such was their discomfort
with the prevailing damp (?)

The Elves, on the other hand,
were content to let whatever the weather
have its way . . . . .
And, our garden Unicorn . . . . . ?
He had only to express himself -
the Flower Faeries did the rest!

The Witch took refuge in the garden shed.
Werewolves, Wolverines and Ghosts.

Debbie & Peter





28th
" ANNUAL WEDNESDAY "

It's calendar time ! (limited edition, of course).

It'll be available from the middle of November.

Meantime - you can e-mail us here to reserve your copy.




Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

Meanwhile
Out in our magic studio garden
our friends are preparing, for the night of all Hallows . . . .

I sauntered through the garden,
this misty, dewy, morning . . . .
taking in the silence, the coolness, and the charm.

Times there definitely be, when sorting out,
a schedule is, (underlined), important . . . .
Today was certainly not!!

'Twas for me an early rising,
to savour words and set those down which,
made my taste buds zing with "Wow ! !"

The Elves had not yet risen,
the Faeries resting, still asleep.
Somewhere,
Witch and Warlock muttered,
twisted meanings,
confusing facts.

The Unicorn, flying low, unheeding,
knocked their colourful hats off,
squashed them . . . .

Ah, me ! !

Debbie & Peter





27th
" CHAOTIC TUESDAY "

This time we were ready for them, rather than wait for them to wreak their special brand of destruction and devastation upon us we went out to dark space.

When they emerged from the yellow pustule that was their dimension’s probe into ours, they assembled, they clustered, they sheathed the world; denied it light.

So far it was the forests that had suffered worst though men and animals were certainly feeling the effects of a dramatic loss of light.

It was chaos.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
In the sanctity of magic studio garden
we are safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

The Unicorn was whining, fretfully.
Reared up and soared away . . . .
The Faeries ministrations
were more than he could take!!

The Witch, resplendent in Royal purple, watched, and
tossed her spells into the still, warm, sultry air.

Faeries skittered here, there,
dressed for this Indian summer weather . . . .
Elves swam and dived, played water polo,
Stirring up the wee, small fish.

A magnificent Magician appeared
from deep within the wood . . . .
Landed on the dark green lawn,
showering the grass with golden magic!!

I stood, transfixed,
the Witch screeched, ghosts scattered,
The Owl, with avian frown, took wing,
disappeared across our field . . . .

That was that(?)

Debbie & Peter





26th
" INVASION MONDAY "

When they came, they came in their thousands and thousands, possibly even the millions, erupting from dark space like pustules on the surface of a new born baby or some aquatic disease that had bubbled up from the sea bed to burst upon the surface of the world.

Yes.

But -

This time we were ready for them . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
In the sanctity of magic studio garden
we are safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

Writing quickly, lots of dashes
punctuation forgotten, I drafted, altered, edited,
the current article commissioned . . . .

A crash, a bang, what on earth?
Oh no, the Elves and Pixies, Goblin, Imps,
were stampeding round the house(!?)

The dogs joined in, my concentration disappeared
straight up the chimney . . . .  then,
the mobile hooted a la car horn.
Answering, my sister bellowed, "I'm coming over to tea . . . . "

The phone went dead and, stone the crows,
all my plans went up in smoke...
I heard the songs of Rhiannon's  birds
through the open breakfast room.
The music rose, lyrical, ever rhythmic,
drawing me to the garden door
and out on to the dew-clothed lawn . . . .

The Faeries, bereft of speech,
perched along an Oak tree branch,
and listened, craning forward.
The Owl, resting, moved to the rhythm,
the Unicorn danced and trotted, flew upwards,
swooped, wings glittering, nostrils flared . . . .

The Witch stirred and smelled, adjusted,
the simmering brew within her cauldron.
Into the garden, ready for action,
stomped the Ogre - glowering.

That was that, he'd taken over . . . .
Silence fell, duty called . . . .

Debbie & Peter





25th
" RECTIFICATION SUNDAY "

LONE WOLF 5

Close-up of difference in French/Italian versions.

Tomorrow, I will begin a "recovery process".

And attempt to resurrect this character !



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in our magic studio garden
our friends are preparing, for the night of all Hallows . . . .

Every creature, behaving well,
was either in the kitchen,
or round the breakfast room table . . . .

The rain had rained, full tilt since midnight,
temperatures had risen, too!!

The Witch was proud possessor, now,
of both the pantry and the scullery,
casting spells, without cauldron, in
between luscious mouthfuls of whatever cheeses,
(and fruit), lay ready on the old, wood shelves.

The radio played quite quietly,
the rain cascaded down outside.
No fire burned, the lights turned low and the Elves?
They played pillow fights in my bedroom . . . .

Debbie & Peter





24th
" PUZZLING SATURDAY "

LONE WOLF 5

The British - French - Italian versions.

We have a missing record of the French/Italian version.

It will need to be re-created -  (thank you Giorgio!).



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in our magic studio garden
our friends are preparing, for the night of all Hallows . . . .

A visiting friend of our resident Witch
was renown as a portrait and landscape painter . . . .

Each day she set up easel, chair,
paints and anything else required.
Seated serenely on her stool,
she worked amidst the garden mayhem . . . .

Presently, her subject is, the Elder Statesman of the Elves!!
The age of this particular Elf -impossible to judge,
but surely, must be more or less 100 years, plus . . . .

The Faeries left the Witch to paint without distraction, interference.
The Elves, however, had no scruples
in crowding round and asking questions.

Ignored, they scampered off to wind up those who would mind.
Then, shrieking with hilarity, they disappeared into the wood . . . . 

Debbie & Peter





23rd
" PUZZLING FRIDAY "

LONE WOLF (revisited).

Well, kind of. A request for a print, of the French/Italian version.

But . . . . sometimes, in a very long career, no matter how meticulous . . . .

Things get missed, in this case, a transparency - solution needed !



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in our magic studio garden
our friends are preparing, for the night of all Hallows . . . .

Sheeting rain, sultry warmth,
the garden creatures were all cross-eyed . . . .
The Witch was under protective cover,
her mode? A tepee, with smoke hole.

The Faeries, dressed in cloak, sou'wester,
groomed the Unicorn, fed him.
(They kept his magical feed in a corner of the shed).

Ghosts and Spectres, ghostly Wolves,
ran amok, played "Do not touch me . . . .  or ! !"
The Magician flew in, briefly,
a smile lit up his face for once . . . .

I smoked a cigarillo,
breathed deeply,
wandered under dripping trees.
Silence . . . . 
No chirp or cheep or sound at all
from magical, (or garden birds) . . . .

Debbie & Peter





22nd
" STUDIO THURSDAY "

THE FEMALE MAN (revisited).

Exciting commission started today !

Who can say, where it will lead, how it will look . . . . .

But for sure, it'll be fun finding out !



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in our magic studio garden
our friends are preparing, for the night of all Hallows . . . .

The Faeries , sitting in a circle on a damp and dewy lawn,
we're deep in Faery chit chat
describing what exactly each was sewing
as costume for Halloween . . . .

The Elves, scarce interested in such things,
were dancing round and round the Oak . . . .

Above them, highly irritated, sat a very, very tired Owl,
unable to repose himself, take a long and tranquil sleep.

In the fallow kitchen garden the Witch, spells chosen,
stirred and mixed the potions needed . . . .

In the pond, the wee fish swam, relieved that it was,
this morning,
their domain!

I walked with vigour through the garden, end to end,
returned, stretched and sprinted up and down the lawn,
avoided knocking over Faeries,
leapt up the steps for coffee and breakfast . . . .

Debbie & Peter





21st
" SHATTERED WEDNESDAY "

It's fast approaching.

Have you prepared ?

Are you going to be safe ?

From the Spiral Wind . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

In the sanctity of magic studio garden
we are safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

He'd settled himself beside the pond,
amongst the reeds and rushes which,
gave him a modicum of cover.

The Elves, together with their kith and kin, left him well-alone,
knowing if they woke him, they'd suffer scalding Dragon burns . . . .

My eyes lit upon the Unicorn, apprehensive,
unsure, snort and tentatively test, 
the heat of his shallow, wheezy,breathing.

The Witch was determined to indulge in a nap, or simply rest.
Her choice of winter bed and board was -
the warmish, roomiest garden shed . . . .

Ghosts and Spectres wafted, interweaved,
striving to avoid the Dragon or cause him excursion and alarm.

I sat upon the steps, fully immersed in the scene, picturesque,
unusual, and golly gumdrops. quiet!

A translucent sun rose, shedding light.
His face, softly caressed , awoke and, whoosh,
Resumed his interrupted voyage . . . .

Debbie & Peter





20th
" SOLAR TUESDAY "

Solar Wind - Volume 2.

Updated/additional/new content.

Now entering editorial.

Text to be added.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

out in our magic studio garden
surrounding the studio . . . .

The Elves were knocking the living day light
out of the garden plants and flowers . . . .
Petals strewn about the lawn, the Faeries having kittens.

The reason for this misbehavior being?
An Elfin game of (sort of) Rugby Union . . . .
So entertaining they found it, the game went on and ever-onwards.
Through the morning, through my lunch-time.

Witch and grouchy Magician? Even they were watching,
a look of total incomprehension written over the face of each . . . .

Finally, it was the dogs which, brought proceedings to a halt.
Scrambling to take possession of the (so-called) Rugby ball,
they seized the chance, grabbed it -
end of game,  bad-tempered Elves . . . .

Debbie & Peter





19th
" SOLAR MONDAY "

Solar Wind - Volume 2.

Updated/additional/new content.

Now entering editorial.

Text to be added.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

out in our magic studio garden
surrounding the studio . . . .

Such was the gentle, sudden warmth,
that strung a hammock 'tween two trees.
Cushions and a soft woolen blanket next,
then I turned to greet my friends.

The ghostly Werewolves and Wolverines,
I saw, had translocation to the wood.
They cast a pall, a scary scariness over the tiny woodland "people."

The Faeries, clustered round "their" Unicorn,
we're busy brushing, grooming it, combing out both mane and tail.

Elves and Pixies, Imps and Goblin, able now to use the pond, were
taking turns to thrash about - their version of a morning bath . . . .

Tucked away behind the wall of the fallow kitchen garden,
the Witch sat on a deckchair, resting momentarily.

The mysterious, sweet, celestial voices of the birds of Rhiannon,
cast a serene, a magical feel, to the garden this early morn . . . .

Debbie & Peter





18th
" SOLAR SUNDAY "

Now entering last phase of editorial.

Solar Wind - Volume 2

First come, first served.

E-mail for details !



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
Out in our magic studio garden
Fantastic events surround us . . . .

The Witch was in a quandary . . . .
She had so many spells to cast.
Today, she knew she needed to recall a really,
very special one!!
And could she? No.

Standing, bent before the fire, leaning on her trusty broom,
she hemmed and hawed and rubbed her brow, scowled -
got nowhere at all . . . .

The Elves were pressing closer to her,
waiting for the blast of temper.
The Faeries whispered, stayed well-distant,
knowing that she'd work it out . . . .

Arriving in a swirl of wind, the Unicorn came into land.
He trotted up to meet the Witch, tail flicking, nostrils flared.

The Witch glanced sideways, looked again.
Suddenly, her mind had cleared!
The spell concerned my sister whose, chestnut stallion was ill.

Wand in hand, she made her way to where the stables stood.
Studying the chestnut carefully, she stood a while contemplating. 
Agh! She knew . . . .

Entering , she gently pulled its mane, ran her hands across its back.
Felt its flanks, its belly, legs and found a cluster of thorns,
well-dispersed and dreadfully prickly . . . .

With just the comb to do the trick,
she slowly cleared the thorns, and Voila!
The chestnut whinnied, lowered its head.
The Witch received a nuzzle of thanks . . . .

Debbie & Peter





17th
" UNIFIED SATURDAY "

1st TALES OF SHATTERED EARTH

12 Screams from the very near future.  

> Citadel of The Beast
> Song of Iron
> Edge of Unison
> Spiral Wind
> The Girl Who Remembered Fish
> Nano-blu
> Robopath
> Flow
> All the Fires of Earth
> Vibrant Chromacy
> Return of the 2nd Ark
> cosmic Forge

Just 44 days to reality . . . . . . . prepare yourself . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

In the sanctity of magic studio garden
we are safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

My hyper-active sister, always on the go, phew !
sports glittery purple nail polish, purple lipstick and,
at least three shades of green eye-shadow,
flamboyant clothes of clashing colours . . . .
(Vibrant, I think you'd call it?)

She arrives, in Aston Marten,
my garden friends are gone . . . .

They do, eventually, re-appear,
binocular eyes skinned 20/20,
noses taking in fresh scent.

I expect a visit from her timed for just a little later.
I wonder what her hair will look like,
whether she'll be Goth-style, Mod or Rocker, Boudicca?  

LATER

The scenario, finally ran -
Aston Marten, horn blaring, shot around the gracious bend,
drew to a short, sharp halt and,
out my sister tumbled, expensive shoes,
designer suit, calf-length coat.
Her make-up? Lips crimson-red,
and eyes, every colour of a rainbow . . . .

Dutifully, I unloaded, carried in her multiplicity of  suitcases,
bags . . . . you name it.

Debbie & Peter





16th
ALTERNATIVE FRIDAY "

And he knew

The time was upon him

For the loss of all doubt .

Unison beckoned . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

In the sanctity of magic studio garden
we are safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

A favourite game I like to play is
looking at the distant hills, blotting out the hillside houses,
envisioning the long-gone past.
The eras when the serfs and tribes dwelt sans roof,
in caves, in shacks . . . .

The garden Elves consider that,
this one actually belongs to them.
This morning they were having kittens,
the water in the garden pond was icy . . . .
impossible to bath and wash(?)

The Faeries huddled, clothed in ankle-length, cloaks.
Lightweight booties, thick-soled, thigh-length . . . .

The Ghosts and Spectres, ghostly Werewolves,
drifted here, floated there, wafted finally towards the wood.

The Witch?
She was locked in contemplation,
as near the flames beneath the cauldron as she could,
with safety, get.

I'd taken courage in both hands,
and, left the warmth of blazing fire to greet my magical friends,
but found, some little time later that, 'twas get indoors, or freeze . . . .
a statue of ice . . . .

Debbie & Peter





15th
ALTERNATIVE THURSDAY "

But the Cosmos continued

to regenerate itself

and define itself

and he knew, the time was upon him . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in the magic studio garden
safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

It really is much, much too cold
even to open the breakfast room garden door . . . .

It was hat and scarf, thick coat, two heavy sweaters,
a long-sleeved vest weather!

The Faeries snuggled 'neath the bushes,
Elves within the many Molehills.
The Witch, though loathe to do so,
had disappeared to a land unknown . . . .
(Her Magician friend followed,
when once he'd sorted out his schedule).

The Elves I packed inside the car
and drove them to a place where,
they knew, Rabbit warrens ran "forever . . . . "

Here, they tumbled out and raced to be the first
to snatch the biggest empty burrow!

I stayed awhile, smoked a pipe,
drove back to sit before a fire . . . .

Debbie & Peter





14th
ALTERNATIVE WEDNESDAY "

The Sun blazed, the wind blew

the clouds struggled in turmoil

in protest at the restructuring

of the physical realm . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in the magic studio garden
safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

The far-off hills were bathed in sunlight.
The Oak tree garbed in moist, wet frost.

I sauntered out into the garden,
expecting no-one, except the Ghosts . . . .
Instead, I found the Elves indulging in a game of Hop Scotch,
the Faeries busy tidying leaves.

The Wizard and the Witch were conferring -
which was the most efficient spell to use for conjuring up

The Owl sat, wistfully, looking out from his dark,
mysterious, home.
Was something missing? No!
The Unicorn cropped the lawn,
kept carefully warmed by Faery blanket . . . .

The Ghosts were present, Werewolves, too,
the chill and damp was of scarce import.

I shared a special brew together with the Wizard . . . .
and the Witch.
It was very, very hot, but did the trick . . . .
I felt a sudden urge to rush back into the house,
drink loads of coffee, write like blazes ! !

Debbie & Peter





13th
ALTERNATIVE TUESDAY "

And finally the last man stood on the precipice of going,

the embodiment of all men

that had evolved to this point in time and he was,

now,

ready for the journey.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in the magic studio garden
safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

It was not until the afternoon that,
my garden friends appeared
to take "a breath of fresh air."
The Elves, hardy souls, only occasionally felt
the need to don thicker clothes . . . .

The Faeries kept busy, frantically active !
The Witch, of course, stationed herself as near as was safe
to her under-cauldron fire.

The Unicorn did acrobatic stunts
and flew about the wood and garden
as though his life depended on it . . . .

I, myself, put on layer upon layer of winter clothes,
whatever I could find in my walk-in wardrobe ! !

Debbie & Peter





12th
ALTERNATIVE MONDAY "

and . . . . so they too spread their new wings,

sought strength in the knowledge

of the way it had been done,

and envisioned

what it all could lead to . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

Out in the magic studio garden
safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

The Elven Rugby game was building steam,
a second day's been scheduled in  . . . .
The audience had grown and grown,
Ghostly Werewolves, Flower Faeries,
the Unicorn and sundry others.

The Witch, initially disdainful,
was now a thorough, super-fan!!

The game, incomprehensible though it was to them,
provided a distraction to the Faeries, who,
with the onset of early winter,
no longer must their flowers tend . . . .

Yet another ardent fan?
What do you know? The aged Magician ! !
The Owl, unable to stay awake,
endeavoured to keep at least one eye open.

A magical, fantasy country like Wales was
a favourite get-away for these garden creatures . . . .

Ireland too, and the Highlands of Scotland
were instinctive choices for enchanting, live-for-ever,
Fairy people.

Regretful, I left the game in progress,
re-entered the breakfast room to eat a hearty breakfast . . . .

Debbie & Peter





11th
ALTERNATIVE SUNDAY "

The men had to evolve further,

to contemplate the journey,

and they saw that the way of the beasts

was the way it had been achieved . . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Watching the Rugby World Cup last night,
I chanced to turn my head to see if the predicted rain was falling.
I could not quite believe my eyes ( ! )
A crowd of fascinated Elves was clustered staring at the TV screen ! !

None of them could really see what the Rugby game involved . . . .
At best, a side-view, possibly.

They could not, surely, hear, the heartfelt roar, the shouts and chanting ?

Eventually, feeling for them, I went outside, invited them in.
We passed an hilarious get-together, and,
 
today the Elves were training for their own, unique, Rugby Cup ! !

Debbie & Peter





10th
ALTERNATIVE SATURDAY "

Finally, even the men were affected.

The Earth shaped itself more

as it reformed to honour and bow down

before the magnificence of the source.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

I stood stock still, open-mouthed -
a dawn to take one's breath away . . . .
Translucent pinks and blues, yellow-greys . . . .
a rainbow painting - sort of?

With the sun, my garden friends awoke and bathed, dressed.
Applied themselves to their special tasks . . . .
The Elves considered work a waste of time,
mundane, boring. A pogo-stick dance was so much more worth it . . . .

The Ghostly Werewolves, Unicorn, Wolverines and Spectres
intermingled amicably.

The Witch, in dark red, brown and brown-green,
lit the fire beneath her cauldron.
Into this she tossed some acorns, Oak leaves,
chestnuts, Michelmas daisies.

The brew well-stirred, she muttered spells,
raised her arms with passionate flourish.
First she cackled, then she screeched,
tossed her spells into the air . . . .

Debbie & Peter





9th
ALTERNATIVE FRIDAY "

Then the creatures finally left, took to the wing,

took flight, soared above and beyond,

knowing they knew all there was to know about where they had been

and yet knowing there was yet more to know,

much, much more to know, in the vastness of the infinite.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

Regretfully, I've overslept . . . .  and,
missed my friends - except the Faeries.
Instead, I took my cup of coffee to sip against the bare,
old Oak tree.

Mistaking the time, the Magician/Wizard arrived
in a shower of shining Moonbeam petals.
He roared and grunted bad-tempered lay,
when he realised the Witch had been, and gone.

The news of most import, today?
"Dear Writer, we now expect yet more diligence, application,
at least one short storybook, book of poems(?),
and anything else you can do . . . .

Debbie & Peter





8th
ALTERNATIVE THURSDAY "

The very earth also began to change

in response to this new beginning, changing form,

bending, shifting, almost gyrating, pulled towards the source,

the source that all came from and all would go back to.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
Out in the magic studio garden
safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

Doom and gloom? No!!!
Despite the weather, life is great . . . .
I've hit the jackpot - whoopee!
A publisher likes my work. Great!!!

Today, I fairly skipped outdoors . . . . .
to find (?) my news had been received!!! And how?
It must be by telepathy?

The Witch was dressed in brown and gold,
the Faeries in hues of Autumnal colours.
The Elves and Imps, Goblins, Pixies wore hats
and shoes of  dark brown leather.

Freshly groomed, the Unicorn's fine mane and tail were threaded
with ribbons of gold and silver . . . .

I quaffed a glass of Faery wine,
watched the sun dawn break o'er the hills.
All said and done, I took my leave,
to start once more on my daily tasks!!

Debbie & Peter





7th
" ALTERNATIVE WEDNESDAY "

In the beginning, it was just the beasts who sensed it.

Not a definable thing, more like a warm breeze, uplifting,

beckoning, calling, calling them to somewhere . . . . . .

Be prepared . . . . . for the truth of reality . . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Luckily
out in the magic studio garden
even amongst the chaos, we, and our many friends,
are immune from the Spiral Wind . . . .


The Owl was having kittens last night . . . .
He croaked and choked - lost his voice!
Perhaps he'd picked up the dreaded lurghi(?) - a Peter word . . . .

The Faeries didn't know quite which magical medicine to give him.

The Witch was wise in all such matters,
brewing just the potion to do the trick.
The dose consumed, the Owl slept,
and the Elves queued all the way across the lawn
to receive the benefit of the sort of "flu jab."

Bored, I left them to it, took a stroll,
until the rain became persistent . . . .

Debbie & Peter





6th
" PREDATORY TUESDAY "

Look out !.

It's there, now.

WE warned you.

Run !.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


A 4am start,
(I'd worked most of yesterday, and all last night).

The garden was replete with Faeries, Elves and,
of course, the Witch . . . .

A glance at the Elves, et voila! they are quick . . . .
They had nicked my e-mobile,
and were experimenting as to how it worked(?)

A pretence of ignorance being the best way forwards,
I watched and waited, conversed with the Witch . . . .

Presently, a gleeful whoop of
joy -  success!!
Tossing the mobile on the still-damp grass,
their attention was claimed by the Owl in the Oak.

Perched on one of the highest branches, sat the Owl,
the Faeries and an adder a snake?
I wondered where it had appeared from, but
no-one was concerned . . . .

Bored now, the Elves had decided that, come what may,
the time had arrived to annoy the garden Witch - they did . . . .

Debbie & Peter





5th
" PREDATORY MONDAY "

Be scared.

Because he's coming for you . . . . . .

Soon.

And . . . . you cannot hoard, as a defense . . . ..



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Wonder-some early morning
Autumnal sun . . . .
The ancient gods were silent -
watchful and patient,
prepared to step in should a human misbehave.

All creatures and Faeries, Witches and Elves were
taking advantage of this magical moment . . . .

The Witch, dressed in Autumnal Browns and yellows,
reds and smokey greens with, slippers of gold,
her cauldron replete with sweet-smelling potion.

The Elves, Imps and Goblins,
the Ogre and Werewolves were taking freezing swims
in the pond, in turns . . . .

The Flower Faeries, exquisite, graceful,
had each washed her flower and,
presently entertained us with quite enchanting dancing!

I watched as the Ogre negotiated
a wash and rinse, alarmed lest he empty the pond of its water(?)
(Thankfully, he didn't).

With a delicate thump and a whinny of  "Hello!"
the Unicorn landed with a swish of its tail.
Over the fence came Magician and ghosts, spectres,
and a six-legged horse of no name . . . .

The Owl slept, the sun rose and,
in the skies above the "Rhiannon" birds
dang an old, old refrain.
The lilting rhythm, pulsating tempo -
lulled me slowly into a blissful sleep!!

Debbie & Peter





4th
" SO, IT'S COUNTDOWN START SUNDAY "

Be scared.

Be EVER so scared.

If possible, be even MORE scared.

You should be - because the truth is coming . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

Meanwhile
Out in the magic studio garden
safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

The mist is thick - does that mean warmth  . . . .
and sunny spells later?
'cos the Faeries won't emerge without that comfortable comfort!

The Witch has built a fire, blazingly hot.
The ghostly Werewolves and Wolverines are
- off a hunting somewhere far away . . . .

The Elves, dressed against this brrr Winter weather are
keeping entertainingly active performing Circus acrobatics ! !

Today, the garden Owl has retreated to his "house" -
entered by way of a hole in the trunk of the Oak.

A brief sojourn outside, a hot cup of coffee -
I am almost prepared to retire to my office/studio
to begin my daily work schedule ! ! !
I'll be in touch again tomorrow . . . .

Debbie & Peter





3rd
" PREPARATION  SATURDAY "

It's nearly upon us.

The tension is building.

Obviously.

Tomorrow it'll be clear . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Meanwhile
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Out in the magic studio garden
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

I sat contented sipping tea
beside the still waters of a nearby canal.
A Mallard duck was  occupied with self-preening,
surrounded by its harem of dutiful females . . . .

The sun was setting, the wind "getting up,"
as I felt myself slipping into that contented, "end-of-day" feeling . . . .

Tea finished, Cigar lit, I sat back to enjoy
the sudden appearance of a fresh-water mermaid and her retinue of
Faerie couturiers,hairdresser, and beautician . . . .

Other mermaids surfaced as the evening darkened -
swimming and diving with an awe-inspiring grace . . . .

Debbie & Peter





2nd
" PREPARATION  FRIDAY "

It's nearly here.

The warning signs were there for ages, of course.

No matter.

It'll be clear enough . . . . . as it unfolds . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog

.
 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Meanwhile

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Out in the magic studio garden
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

The Witch's Welsh cousin was
in a pile of trouble,
mayhem ruled her planet . . . .

Her spells and magic potions
went wrong at every try.
She threw any number of ingredients
into her dirty cauldron,
t'whirled, whirled and screeched -
ranted, but absolutely nothing
ever worked out . . . .

The creatures of the garden
had established an avoidance plan -
they created havoc in their own,
provocative fashion and,
by hook and crook
they rendered her obedient to their will ! !

The Owl, an avid looker-oner,
grinned as only he could,
flapped both wings
and settled down to a calm, sweet nap . . . .

Debbie & Peter





1st
" SHATTERED  THURSDAY "

""Kypper".

Did you mean kipper fish? asked the search engine.

What was a fish, she wondered?

As the evening artificial sun set,
sending a dull glow thru the visi-portal, she pondered . . . . .

"Gold fish?"

From "Tales of Shattered Earth" (extract - more tomorrow).



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Meanwhile
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Out in the magic studio garden
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

The Ogre and the Unicorn
were the centre of interest . . . .
The Ogre had lost his cool,
and, pulled the poor steed's tail(?)

The Unicorn had responded
by kicking him in both thighs,
opening a Pandora's box . . . .
he roared and wailed and shook the trunk of the ancient Oak
'til the acorns fell in a deluge,
knocked him out . . . .

The Faeries sprinkled cool, clean water
over the bruise-covered Ogre's face -
soothed his brow and sang to him . . . .
the Witch whirled around them, danced and cackled -
her glee knew no bounds,
what entertainment!!

The Werewolves yowled, to add to the fun
I sat and wrote another scene in the next chapter
of my autobiography . . . .

Debbie & Peter







September 2015 Blog

30th
" SHATTERED  WEDNESDAY "

"Josie looked out at the blue spires and the streaming pizza trucks snaking around them, the spiky spires of the pizza world dwellers.

"Between pizzas she filled her time with trawling thru an ancient electronic archive dating from the pre-mandolin pizza era that her grandmother had left her on her tablet device. She loved inserting arbitrary sounds that might once have been words in a language nobody much recalled anymore into the built-in audio search engine.

From "Tales of Shattered Earth" (extract - more tomorrow).



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Meanwhile
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Out in the magic studio garden
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

The Flower Faeries had received,
by dint of telepathic thought waves,
an open invitation to cross Space, come visit their,
very distant friends and
family ! !

This, was, of course, in every way, an unachievable dream.
No Faery, worth her salt could possibly withstand the journey . . . .
let alone avoid Space debris! . . . .

The Witch had family on the Moon, on Mercury, Venus, Neptune, Pluto.
Late, late on clear, starlit, nights, she'd  stand alone, beside her fire,
sending telepathic letters . . . .

Only the Ghosts and Spectres, should they so wish,
could sweep with ease across heavens and they,
to all intents and purposes, gave not one jot of thought to this . . . .

Debbie & Peter





29th
" SHATTERED  TUESDAY "

"They'd also learned to take their medicine in a recreational way, with senapod pizza, aspirin pizza and anti-blood pressure pizza.

There was even a pizza-pizza to remind people that once, a long time ago, the world had only one basic pizza and pineapple was, generally, something you ate after a meal and not as part of a main meal."

Now though, there were even smoked kipper pizzas.

From "Tales of Shattered Earth" (extract - more tomorrow).



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Meanwhile
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Out in the magic studio garden
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . safe (at least foe now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .

I suspect I originate from 'no-where land . . . . '
a land forgotten, may, dismissed.
A land which had no frontiers, no impediments to movement.

People walked, or traveled by cart - or, rode upon a sturdy horse.

No customs shed, no need for passports . . . .
Driven by both need an want, each determined individual
sought a self-selected 'home.'

I, too, have felt this strong pull . . . .
to risk all for my own 'serendipity.'
Bit by bit, as with a jigsaw, the know how, daily, comes my way(?!)

We live, and work 'twixt so many others, but,
Tia not easy breaking boundaries . . . .

'Rules and regulations are made law by the party in power.'
Where's it writ that we must,  stick obediently,
to all and every 'no we command and you, at your peril, must obey!!
(Unless you come from Fearie Land)..,.,

Debbie & Peter





28th
" SHATTERED  MONDAY "

"They'd given up working hard, given up talking, and now they'd given up eating anything, except pizza. As such, there was tuna pizza, spaghetti pizza, steak pizza (replica, of course) cream bun pizza, lettuce pizza, koka-de-kola pizza, and many many morish varieties besides."

From "Tales of Shattered Earth" (extract - more tomorrow).



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Meanwhile
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Out in the magic studio garden
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .



The Unicorn was now called Merlin.
This, a  Faerie pronouncement!

The Witch cat was designated 'Hidden Paw,'
as was Macavity, the Cat..., from the T S Eliot poem . . . .

The Witch was amused(!) and touched.
Her cat continued its morning cleansing . . . .
(It always maintained its own agenda).

My dogs were barking fit to bust,
The Ogre roared, and shook his fists . . . .
Such was the cacophony of noise, that, I threw cold water on the lot.

Elves and Pixies, Imps, and Faeries were dancing in a 'Ring a' Rosie.'
(For the very first time, this morning, an Elfin orchestra was playing?!!

Ghostly Werewolves, Ghosts and Spectres,
appeared, translucent, shimmering, ever-watchful . . . .

Today, the garden was blessed with a visit
by the magical birds from 'the other Realm!!'

The morning, summed up, was a blissful experience . . . .
One to remember for ever and ever!!

Debbie & Peter





27th
" SHATTERED  SUNDAY "

"The air was an especially strident purple that day, the lanes of continual pizza delivery vehicles streaked past in their pathetic effort to keep up with demand, something that they failed continually to manage, even though theirs was the only traffic on the clutterway having bought outright the right to use exclusively the clutterway by paying top-credit toll fees. Still, there was nothing the populace wouldn't give up to maintain access to pizza home delivery, even the use of their own personal vehicles."

From "Tales of Shattered Earth" (extract - more tomorrow).


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Meanwhile

         Out in the magic studio garden
                  safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .



Having conferred with the garden creatures,
anxious for a change of scene,
they rough and tumbled where where they could
into my muddy Land Rover.

The Unicorn flew overhead,
the Elves ensconced in the luggage rack.

We drove towards the distant hills,
along the narrow country roads.
The sky glowed golden in the Autumnal sun,
wispy clouds drifted across the sky.

No sheep remained upon the hillsides,
the harvest had been new-completed.
Hands and noses pressed to windows,
glass misted up by Faeries breathing,
ecstatic in this rare adventure.

We drove slowly, winding, bumping,
up a narrow hillside road,
bounded  by fields both sides.
Elves and Faeries demanded out.

They spent sometime playing whoopy games
before 'twas sadly, time to leave . . . .

Debbie & Peter





26th
" SHATTERED  SATURDAY "

The pressure continues to build . . . .

The true nature of things lurks just beyond peripheral vision.

Yet - a bifurcation approaches.

Soon, there will be no escape, from the Spiral Wind . . . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog




Meanwhile

         Out in the magic studio garden
                  safe (at least for now) from the Spiral Wind . . . .



I woke up this morning to a crisp, Autumnal dawn . . . .
A frosty  lawn, leafless trees,
a lifeless stream, an ice-filled pond.

The Elves were gathering ice with which to fashion ice-balls(?)
Should they wish to play catch, OK . . . .
If, to use for "who can hit whom?" -
no!

The Witch was in a regular blather.
Really, truly, the Elves were . . . .
Any unruly behaviour, she felt,
should be dealt with severely -
perhaps a cuff on the ear? However,

The Elves, their fingers frozen, found,
their game must be forgot!

Shivering Faeries danced, kept active,
and the Unicorn spent the morning cantering round in circles . . . .
rearing, jumping any hurdle they could find ! !

Debbie & Peter





25th
" SHATTERED  FRIDAY "

On and on, beyond the rainbow's end,

on to the end of all,

the beginning of next,

down the tunnel,

thru the gateway of light

blown by the Spiral Wind . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

         Out in the magic studio garden
                  safe, from the Spiral Wind . . . .



The Autumnal sun crept quietly over the far horizon . . . .
The Birds sang joyfully, swooped and soared, and swarmed playfully.

In the garden, the Witch was mending a hole in her shoes, and
 
embroidering her everyday Winter clothes . . . .

The Unicorn, the Faeries, the Pixies and Elves were swanning around getting in everyone's way.

Having received an invitation to visit the Witch,
the Wizard swooshed in - the, long hair untidy,
cloak swirling behind him.

Wrapped close and warm, I sat on the bench,
to watch my friends begin the day . . . .

Lumbering, ungraceful, the Ogre appeared,
crossed the lawn and sat down
beneath the, almost leafless, old Oak tree . . . .

Debbie & Peter





24th
" SHATTERED  THURSDAY "

The nightmare continues.

Unfolding courtesy of mass desire..

Flawed by mass obfuscation.

Do you see it there, on the horizon ?.



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

         Out in the magic studio garden
               safe, from the fragile world . . . .



The Faeries were ecstatic!

The Witch, so disapproving, had actually brought them each a gift!
(I suspect it was her family who'd prompted this unusual happening).

The Ogre, too, had something -
though they would never know what it was,
he being super-secretive . . . .

The Elves were demonstrably jealous, but,
the Witch simply did not like them,
found they ground her nerves to shreds.

Today, the Ghosts and Spectres were present in the garden,
gliding, floating, wafting -
the Autumnal breeze was just the thing to
invigorate their energy.

Lawn-cutting was over now - Winter just around the corner.
Leaves were falling, the pond water freezing, though,
much to my delight, a flight of wild geese had flown in
on their way to warmer climes.

We have been warned of ice and snow, bitter winds
and even tempests(?!)
Time to sort, prepare, for cold, relentless days spent indoors -
keeping occupied, active . . . .

Debbie & Peter





23rd
" SHATTERED  WEDNESDAY "

It begins to form.

On the edge of sanity.

Where desires race ahead of sustainability.

And enforcement of pleasure becomes a mandate . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
         Out in the magic studio garden
               safe, from the fragile world . . . .



The pond was a rippling contour of patterns . . . .
The early Autumn breeze was caressing - lively.
Sky overcast, mist,
a damp, rain-to-come, feeling in the air . . . .

How can there be true a true Autumn
when the leaves have been falling
through the Spring, Summer/Winter?
I was glad of a warm, open fire in the large Breakfast room?

Later in the morning, the Elves, Imps, Pixies, Brownies -
would be donning their swimwear and taking a bath.

The Faeries were washing and feeding their flowers.
The Witch, with her cat, had disappeared to visit "family."

No Ogre, no Werewolves, or Wolverines, either . . . .
The Unicorn was calmly grazing, smoke issuing from both nostrils,
but, disturb him and, Boy! -
You'd soon see the flames lit by irritation blaze from them, too!!

Debbie & Peter





22nd
" SHATTERED  TUESDAY "

In the mental melting pot.

12 Screams form the very near future.

And, a book for our times certainly . . . . . .

From a studio near you (virtually) soon . . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
         Out in the magic studio garden . . . . . . .



The Faerie of Impediment had arrived to "do her thing."

Initially, no garden-dweller was aware
of just who she was and why here?

The Elves and Imps, Pixies were bathing in the stream.
It rippled, ran fast and slow(!), bubbled where the water hit the stones.
Was still in other areas!!

Stealthily, secretly, the Faery of Impediments commenced her task
of creating as much chaos as she could think of . . . .

The garden took on the shape of a living space
which lacked rhyme or reason . . . .
At last, the Elves, infuriated, noticed what she was doing.
Their baths complete, they dressed, turned on her and,
with fierce determination,
forced her to restore their home to a picture of soothing home-iness.

This accomplished, they banished her to an inhospitable, far-off place . . . .

Debbie & Peter





21st
" MULTIPLE MONDAY "

Last of the current offering of Kult icons shipping now.

More, at >

http://www.peterandrewjones.net/paintings-kult-icons.htm

Maling list an essential >
http://www.peterandrewjones.net/lists.htm



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile
         Out in the magic studio garden . . . . . . .



The Ladybird settled on a crimson Geranium,
sealing sweet nectar, all that she got was a Caterpillar,
which was not keen on this disturbance..

The Ladybird hesitated,
decided against irritating the short-tempered,
slow-moving creature intent upon sole ownership . . . .

The innumerable garden worms were 
lying well below ground.
There were far too many predators to risk life, wriggly tails . . . .

The Owl was asleep, head under wing,
the Elves enjoying an afternoon siesta.
The Flower Faeries were carrying out their afternoon chore -
changing dresses and coiffures for the evening's Cocktail party.

The Elves had been invited and accepted with glee.
They so enjoyed having Elphin beverages, together with snacks!!

Such fun . . . .

Debbie & Peter





20th
" 'SCAPE  SUNDAY "

Long shot.

City of the soon to be dead.

The mushroom cloud of "how'd we let it get this far?"

The evening dawned to glowing night . . . . . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

         Out in the magic studio garden . . . . . . .



The morning dawned to glowing sunshine.
Dew lay twinkling on the grass.
From the breakfast window I glimpsed the Elves
playing Elfin Rugby . . . .

An "fan following" of Werewolves
watched the match descend into fisticuffs.

Under the old Oak tree, a group of Flower Faeries
sat and spun, fine yarn, whilst others sewed a tapestry.
I wandered closer, and saw, the theme was based around the garden.

The scent of new-mown hay and apples
emanated from the cauldron,
the Witch was truly inventive!

Once the warmth of Autumn sun had settled
over wood and garden,
the Ogre made his usual way towards the Oak,
and, sat - not to sleep but,
wait for the Owl.
They'd struck up quite a friendship lately . . . .
chatted about this, and that, and the other.

A Unicorn swept down to land, for a grooming treat
and to chomp on grass.

Debbie & Peter





19th
" SKULL  SATURDAY "

Last of the Kult Icons to ship this week.

I SO enjoyed creating the textures on this piece.

Mixing water-based and heavily oil-based paint.

It's always fun doing what the rule books say you shouldn't  . . . .



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

         On a day-out trip  . . . . . . .



Up the road, beyond the bend, such a curve  . . . .
reduce your speed ! !
There lay, lonely, abandoned,
an ancient tin quarry tired,
and spent.

Over the years, with covert stealth,
a magical county had been created.
Faeries, Elves, Pixies, Goblins. Unicorns, Deer,
and an Apprentice Witch.

So curious was I, that, taking the car, I drove to the quarry,
parked out of sight, and, went in to explore.

Rocks, earth and weeds had taken over thoroughly,
plenty of cover to hide you, so  . . . .
where were the residents?

I waited some time, then, a Elfin hat showed, and more -
suddenly the quarry became vital, alive!

I watched from my post as this world began enacting,
the day-to-day life of these magical creatures  . . . .

Debbie & Peter





18th
" FESTERING  FRIDAY "

Kult Icon.

Being "wrapped to ship" (to a collector) today.

Which begs a question  . . . . .

WHY  . . . . is Sellotape SO thin these days ?



Peter Andrew Jones Science Fiction Fantasy Artist Deborah Susan Jones Writer Blog


Meanwhile

         Outside in the enchanted studio garden  . . . . . . .



The waves were powerful, almost tempestuous  . . . .
The currents sucked you out or took you in
- to smack you hard upon the shore  . . . .
Tempests raged, seagulls screeched.

The Mermaid, a delicate creature finally found this all too much.
One calmer day, she swam ashore, slithered quickly inland.
Joyfully, and, to her relief, she came upon a riverlet  . . . .
Diving in, she swam and swan.
The current was against her,
but,
being a brave,
resourceful creature,
she followed her intuition and,
finally reached our wood.

Here, the riverlet became a stream,
then a pond!

Exhausted, she rested, then,
finding the peaceful atmosphere
satisfyingly refreshing,
she took up residence - becoming,
over time, a solitary fresh water,
Mermaid creature  . . . .

Debbie & Peter





17th
" TEXTURAL THURSDAY "

Can you smell the texture ?