Colours to Inspire – Jewel Tones – What’s Your Favourite?

Scrolling my Instagram feed I noticed my favourite colour is very prominent…
I adore jewel and neutral earthy colours – I’m a nature girl!

So, I thought I’d share my favourite jewel tones with you –
as found on Instagram – green, purple, blue and red.

Moss Green © Lisa Shambrook

Green has been my favourite colour since I was a little girl,
and has literally grown with me.
Green is nature, tranquillity, spiritual, and harmony…

Mythical Purple – © Lisa Shambrook

Purple had a stint as my favourite colour when I was in my teens,
but had to give way to green again.
Purple is royal, jewel, elegant, and magic…

Burgundy Red – © Lisa Shambrook

Red, dark red, has become a late favourite, and I’ve grown into it.
Red is passion, sensual, love, and depth…

Teal Blue – © Lisa Shambrook

Blue, teal blue, is a colour that suits me, it works with my brunette hair.
Blue is calm, serene, oceans, and life…

What’s your favourite colour and what does it mean to you?

Aquilegia’s Spring Dance – The Ballet of Columbine and Granny’s Bonnet

Columbine bob and dance with eagle claw spurs and fairy blush
As ballerina skirts and satin frills swathe spring’s sunlit meadows…

Aquilegia, commonly known as columbine, swathes the British countryside and cottage gardens at this time of the year. It is, I think, my most favourite spring flower. As its clusters of soft scalloped leaves develop, its stems shoot up and begin to bud, and I can’t wait for its flowers.

Frilled blues – © Lisa Shambrook

The name Aquilegia comes from the Latin word: eagle – aquila. The petal shape is often said to resemble an eagle’s claw. Columbine comes from the Latin word for dove, and is said to have come from the flower’s resemblance to five doves clustered together.  It’s also often called Granny’s Bonnet – for its nodding head and bonnet-like appearance.

© Lisa Shambrook

Many years ago when I started gardening, I had a packet of Thompson and Morgan seeds – a packet which probably came free from Amateur Gardening magazine – and I planted them and tended them in my bedroom! I watched tiny seedlings push through my trays of soil and I raised aquilegias. They have rewarded me every year since as I adore my – now slightly wild and meadow-like – garden swathed in aquilegias every spring!

© Lisa Shambrook

I love the way these flowers naturalise, the way the rain collects in their leaves like diamonds, and the way they self-seed and produce beautiful and variegated versions of their parent plants! The parents pushed up every year – I began with Blue Bonnet, deep purple spurs and petals with double white frills – and I was in awe as their later offspring threw out flowers with gorgeous green tints. I had single pink aquilegias with white frills and I collected seeds from dead heads out in the countryside to get dark purple single aquilegias. I bought a white, in bloom from a garden centre, and a pink spur-less double, and after that every variation have been crossbreeds from self-seeding.

© Lisa Shambrook

They love the shade, but do brilliantly in meadows and woodland, growing and spreading easily. If you don’t want your named varieties to crossbreed, then snip the heads off when they die and don’t let them go to seed. Otherwise, let them be promiscuous and see what they gift you!

© Lisa Shambrook

My favourites will always be the blues –
deep purples and blues with frills of green and white…

© Lisa Shambrook

Early evening fairy blush… Delicate ballerinas with their frills and fairy hues…

© Lisa Shambrook

Check out Beneath The Rainbow to discover my love of cottage garden and wildflowers, you’ll find them in Freya’s heaven – even aquilegias!

‘Freya opened her mind and allowed emotions and simple feelings of beauty flow through her. The feelings weren’t strong, or rich, just pure and simple, and Freya knew at once that all the flowers were vibrantly alive, not just with colour and scent, but with life of their own, each a simple, but divine entity.’
(Beneath the Rainbow – Lisa Shambrook)

In paperback or ebook on Amazon

FlashMob: Time

© Lisa Shambrook

My mouth curls upwards, unconsciously. Excitement pounds within my heart and my legs wobble, just for a moment.

“Are you coming?” he calls, turning back. His eyes pierce me; they’re green, as green as a peridot gemstone, and just as glistening.

Again, for a moment, I can’t speak. I just stand and gaze. He grins back, a boyish smile in a face that defies years, but speaks of youth and adventure. My heart slams against my ribs.

“Yes,” I whisper, as he fidgets and sweeps a hand through his auburn hair. The light, flashing behind him lights up his silhouette giving him a halo. I giggle. “Yes, I’m coming!”

I pull my wibbly legs together and set off after him, at a run to keep up. His stride lengthens and my heart leaps as my feet thump the pavement.

His coat flows like a cape, like a long gothic cloak, and for another moment, I imagine a deerstalker on his head, but no, this is not Sherlock…and I am not Watson.

His boots, buckled and studded, rap on the ground and I catch up. He turns to me again, not missing a step as I stumble beneath his gaze.

“You’re good with this?” he asks, that twinkle seeping into my very soul.

I nod. “Oh, yes, I’m good with this!” I reply.

Pale freckles, saturated by lamplight, dance upon his cheeks, across his nose, and I can barely restrain myself from reaching up and pushing his red hair out of his eyes. He shakes his hair away from his face.

“So,” he pauses, literally, and I almost run into him. “When did you know?”

“Kn-know what?” I stammer.

“When did you know you were coming with me?” His eyes search mine and I lower my face, staring at my shoes. His hand immediately lifts my chin and I cannot help but stare into those eyes.  If I didn’t know already, then this would be the moment! I cannot speak, my tongue is lost, and my heart threatens to explode from my chest.

“Secretly, I think you knew when we had lunch, that first day…” he grins.

And he’s right. My mind scrolls back, to the day we’d run, so much running, but we’d stopped to eat, finally famished.

I nod. “The fish fingers and custard did it for me!” I smile.

He cocks his head and stares deeply into my eyes then let’s go of my face and chuckles. “Yep, that’s often the moment!” Then he’s gone, again, striding ahead.

“Doctor!” I call, “Wait for me…”

My heart is yet again in my mouth as I round the corner and there he is, leaning against the doorway of the blue box, pooled in white light and promises of adventure…

(459 words)

A new flash fiction challenge from Flash Mob Writes…choose your prompt and write 300 – 500 words…enjoy!

Creative Feature: Angie Richmond – Artist

I am a creative.

First and foremost, I write. I consider my writing art and have always enjoyed indulging in many other arts and crafts.

My daughter and I are soon to announce a creative venture of our own, but leading up to that I wanted to share some of my favourite Artists and Creatives. Many of them have their wares available to purchase and it’s a pleasure to be able to promote their work.

My first feature is Angie Richmond, a Vancouver based artist who creates one-of-a-kind mixed media collage, abstract watercolour and skyline doodle art. I have known and admired her for several years. Last Christmas I commissioned an individual piece from Angie and was incredibly happy with the beautiful result!
And look out for Angie’s special offer to readers…

Angie Richmond – Artist

Angie Richmond – Artist

What inspires you? 

I really struggled with this question, which surprised me. When it comes to my art I find myself working at an intuitive level that doesn’t require a lot of thought. Which means that although I’m continually being inspired by things around me, I’m not always conscious of it.

But I can tell you that when I first started this journey there was one artist who did inspire me, Kelly Rae Roberts. Her work lead me to explore the world of mixed media collage. When I read her book Taking Flight I realized that everything I had been doing up until then wasn’t just fooling around. It was creating art. It inspired me to own the title Artist and take what I had been doing seriously. So I guess I owe her a lot. Maybe one day I’ll meet her and thank her in person.

Is your art planned or spontaneous? 

Most of the time it’s a combination of both. I usually start with an idea but rarely do I stick to it exactly. I find that my best work is often the pieces that were completely unplanned. Even when I’m working with commissioned pieces there is still an element of spontaneity that I love.

My commission ‘Words of the Heart’

How do you like to work – do you have a favourite medium, or colours, or techniques? 

As a mixed media collage artist, paper and acrylic paint are mediums that I find myself continually incorporating into my art. I like paper with lots of words, like old dictionary pages or even sheet music. The older the better. Speaking of old, I also love using vintage dress patterns and postage stamps.

I tend to use a lot of turquoise. Blue is my favourite colour so even though I might make a conscious decision to try other colours, somehow blue always creeps in. Which I’m totally okay with.

What do you consider your best work to date – do you have a favourite piece? 

Ha! This question made me laugh because upon reflecting I realized that I’ve said ‘This is my favourite piece’ like a hundred times! So I guess I can’t pick one. Each of them are special.

I’ve watched your art diversify over the years – what are your future plans? 

Good question. To be honest I’m not entirely sure. I’ve been doing some serious contemplation on venturing into the world of fiber art. I have a sewing machine set up now and I’m learning how to embroider. I’d also love to try pottery some day.

Lastly, if you could commission anything for yourself, money no object, what would it be?

Hmmm, let me see. I suppose I’d commission a piece of jewellery. Either a ring or a necklace. Something vintage looking with loads of meaning.

***   Angie is also being especially generous and is giving a fantastic special offer to all you lovely readers! Just use the code LISAFANS in Angie’s Etsy Shop for 50% off!   ***

You can find Angie at angierichmond.com and at her Etsy shop. Follow her at @write_me_happy. Take a look and get inspired!

Thanks Angie, a lovely insight into your art!

Dirty Goggles: A Blue Heart

This is my second entry into the Dirty Goggles Blog Hop, run by Ruth, Jen, and Steven. this time it’s an attempt at Dieselpunk.

A Blue Heart
Dieselpunk
691 Words
Lisa Shambrook
@LastKrystallos
Safe Content

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)

A Blue Heart

Nell was fed up with waiting. She watched the indigo skies night after night, but he failed to return. 

She smoothed down her combat trousers, and buckled up her boots.

He’d told her to be patient that he’d seen her future and it was good. 

She sighed as the building vibrated with the closeness of the dirigible flying low overhead, and she imagined the vibration and hum, desperately trying to change it to fit…

She expertly ran her fingers up her weathered, leather jacket, tightening buckles. She was ready, even if he wasn’t.

She grabbed her Derringer, and checked its barrel before closing the breach and engaging the safety. Nell cast a glance out of the window one last time before she flicked the ugly generator’s switch, extinguishing the light, and strode out of the door. “Damn you,” she muttered as she clattered down the iron stairs and out into the street. 

Mist shrouded the road and gas lamps were halos of light amid the haze. Nell wandered, her fingers reaching up to her neck, stroking the blue heart at her throat. Its silver cogs and contorted wires reminded her of the complicated man who’d given it to her and she smiled. She walked, restless, her eyes flickering over the glistening pavements and her ears listening over the sound of the train on the track behind her. 

She searched.

He’d caressed his bow tie, bowed low and told her to watch her heart, her blue heart, but wouldn’t give her another word, didn’t want to spoil anything. Then he’d gone.

Was one adventure all a girl got?

 A scream echoed through the night and Nell ran. The chill night air tore down her throat and stung her eyes but she ran all the same.  The scream rang out again and Nell ducked. She stared, watching a dark figure dragging a young woman across the tracks. She reached for her gun, and chased after the shadows. 

The girl lie limp in his arms and Nell swung into action. She brandished her pistol and marched forward. “Let her go!” she ordered stepping over the rails. Fear was a thing of the past, she been through too much, seen too much to waste time on fear.

He turned and grinned, and Nell steeled herself. She only had two shots and they were only any good at close range. She closed in, still clasping the pistol in outstretched hands. “Let her go,” she repeated.  

The man silently cast his hostage aside and in one quick, unexpected movement had Nell in a head-lock, one hand twisted up behind her back and the other still clutching her useless weapon.

Fear came flooding back.

Her pendant tightened against her skin, its chain choked her and began to cut into her throat. She dropped the pistol and grabbed at her necklace, but it was too tight and she began to lose consciousness. 

Her eyes bulged and her breath caught and her ears drummed. 

The throbbing sound built, humming, hissing, throbbing…until a hefty motorbike roared up the gravel and squealed to a stop, spitting grit. Exhaust smoke filled the air and shouts rang out, followed by shots. 

Nell dropped to the ground, clutching at her throat. She stared behind at the mound that had been her assailant and watched the goggled man in the grey, military greatcoat as he helped the first victim up off the ground. A small crowd gathered and Nell gathered her senses. Army Officers arrived and removed the body as her saviour approached, his hand extended. 

“Jack…”he offered, “…and you are?”

“Nell,” she murmured gazing up at him.

“And this must be yours…” He opened his fist and revealed her pendant. He smoothed his short, oiled, black hair as he roughly pushed his goggles up onto his head.

She nodded, and accepted her blue heart from the man with eyes that matched the stone precisely. He glanced at his leather wrist strap, and pressed a blue button, and smiled at Nell expectantly as he revved his bike. She grinned and stared up into the indigo skies. Maybe a girl really was allowed just one more adventure!

Photo Source: doctorwhocompanions.com

Blogflash: Day Twenty-Five: Blue

Photograph by Bekah Shambrook (please do not use without permission)

Day Twenty-Five: Blue
Flood Part Twenty-One

“Look at the sky dear…”
“Beautiful blue isn’t it?”
“No, I mean up in the sky…”
“Later, will you help me with the anchor? I think we should drop anchor, there’s no point drifting anymore. If we wait long enough…the water will go down enough for us to actually be on land…”
“No, look! Listen!”
Gulls squawked and the ocean lapped, and a distant rotary hum broke the monotony.
“Is that..?”
“It is! It is! Look…up there, look!”
“You’re kidding me! Shout! Wave your arms, SCREAM!”
“I AM, I AM! Hey, Hey, WE’RE HERE, DOWN HERE!”
“Rescue…at last”

(99 Words)

Terri Long’s Blogflash2012-day-twenty-five-blue entries

Back to Day Twenty-Four