NEW MOON IN VIRGO: Banishing Uncertainty at Work

Sunflowers from a dear friend
remind me to seek the sunny side!

I had the hardest time getting my derriere in gear to go to work Tuesday morning. I wanted to stay home just one more day. The new moon in Virgo finds me unusually and purposefully thoughtful, so an extra day to ponder would’ve been just right. But this Virgo energy is about efficiency not luxury, so I got myself out of bed and went to work.

I’m pondering my art, and thinking about writing a book. I’m reassessing my blogs and the possibility of combining them. I’m reaffirming my commitment to family and friendship and using my love to make those closest to me stronger and happier. I’m reaffirming the commitment to my health, as well, by continuing to eat better, eat less, and move more. These affirmations are all part of the tapestry of my life.

More than anything, judgment is on my mind. Not so much how others judge me, but how I judge myself. My spiritual compass is an internal one, and I am content with the choices I’ve made around family, friends, lifestyle, and my art and other areas of creativity. I’ve focused specifically on confidence in these areas in the past, and worked through a number of very difficult and enduring life lessons, all of which where about judgment, but are topics for another blogpost. Now, I’m in the middle of another life lesson, the delicate fibers of which I can see at last. Clearly, this is about my career, and I’m ready to get beyond it.

Last week, I finished defining the Judgment card in my pending pop-culture tarot deck. The same day, someone on Facebook pulled Judgment as the “card of the day”. Last Wednesday, a taste of workplace neurosis from the recent past re-emerged, and its bitterness seemed fresh and new. Then, I had nightmares all weekend about things and people I most value being in danger. It’s funny how those synchronicities line up, isn’t it? It’s like my subconscious pushed rewind until I got the message.

Like everyone, I live with a few demons tucked away deep in the recesses of my psyche. They are private, custom made by my life experiences, and locked up in tiny little cages made of unbreakable steel called “restraint”. Only the Great Mother and I can open the locks. They are held closed by combinations called “self-esteem” and “worthiness”, both of which I worked very hard to reclaim after my precarious childhood. The first demon is a prickly little bastard called “Measuring Up” and the other is a bleak fellow called “Failure”. After making appearances (and being dealt with) in my personal relationships some time ago, apparently they have settled in the “Career/Professional” subsection of my brain.

Alright, I give. I get it. I’m here to learn a lesson, right? The last time something this intense and job related happened in 2003. When the cycle of change was over three years later in 2006, my family and I were jettisoned into a whole new set of lessons on the opposite side of the country. So, I know I won’t be released from this until I learn what I’m supposed to learn.

Before the firm I’m working for announced its merger over a year ago, I enjoyed a nice, mellow, make-sense kind of job. There was a clear line of report, workplace respect, and good leadership. I’ve worked in a merging firm before, and there are very sound reasons why the word “merger” has people looking for new jobs. The announcement alone had me worried. Two different cultures coming together causes company-wide disruption. The competitive and uncertain atmosphere has people acting like teenagers. Change is the name of the day, and everything that could make me feel uncertain in my job has occurred. I’ve been job searching since April, and while I’ve had a few good nibbles, it seems companies have lowered their base salary for what I do. The economy being what it is offers few alternatives and consequently leaves no escape. This uncertainty and the unprofessional and disrespectful way I was being treated by key people unhinged the locks on my professional confidence, releasing both my fear of failure and not measuring up. Soon, I felt hesitant. My confidence seemed to leak away. I judged everything I wanted to say, everything I wanted to do, from a place of fear. And those two demons sat atop my shoulders enjoying their success. Fear is such a cancerous thing. It gives over so much of our personal power to others.

The only way to banish demons like this is to let them all the way out to show themselves. Then, as though you are working a magic spell, whip out your magic wand, call upon your resources of courage and self-respect and recognize them for what they are and what they have done to you. Call them out by name, forgive yourself for being swayed and the way you may have acted, and cast them away! Learn from your mistake!

This dissolves their power and so they disappear.

Today is the new moon in Virgo, and I harness its energy to put a close on this challenge. Artemis, the Virgin Goddess of the Hunt, shoots her arrow across the heavens to strike down this needless fear. I will no longer struggle with it, and I won’t let it jeopardize upcoming career opportunities. I’m tired of the stress eating up so many good days and ruining evenings with my family. As of right now, and aided and blessed by the Virgo New Moon and the Great Mother residing within, I release these two demons from their cages forever, and I transform them with my magic.

*Poof*

“Am I good enough?” becomes “I am good enough!”


*Poof*

“Failure” becomes “Success”.

I am confident.

I am me.

And this is how it should be.

~as above, so below~

Announcing our new Cafepress store ...

After hemming, hawing, and grappling with my confidence, I'm finally willing to put it on the line in a Cafepress store.

I'm starting slow and easy with one image to see what happens.

Visit our store at

www.cafepress.com/whenisisrises.

Be welcome. Shop. Be happy.

FROM OUR WORKSHOP: Gregor

The ancient ones lie quietly, as old as the mountains, as strong as the rocks, stability and fortitude their mainstay ... that, and waiting, of course. They wait patiently for the world to turn on its spiritual and historical axis. With weathered wings that long to soar, eyes that see absolutely everything, and ruby red hearts of the purest crystal, they wait and wait until the sleepers awaken. They know that some of the sleeping ones can see them from time to time, tentatively aware as they are in their slumber. For the ancient ones, who need no mirror to realize themselves, and for whom existence is whether seen or not, this is only consequential. Soon the sleepers will awaken and ask them to be guides again, and, oh, the glory will return! But until then, with patience of the ages, they remain content to wait ... and listen to the primordial om, the sound of all being.

Meet Gregor, one of the ancient ones. Master of all the elements, this ancient guide prefers the earth to the skies, and wraps himself in a comforting drape of aromatic flora simply because it pleases him.

Om ...

Look here for A. Venifica's wonderful information on dragon totem symbolism.

Look here for information on Amma's visit to the San Francisco Bay Area.

FROM OUR WORKSHOP: Buto, The Cobra Goddess

(c) February 16, 2009 by Donna L. Faber, Original is 8.5x11, image done in pen & ink on Strathmore smooth bristol paper, then cut out and mounted in black textured paper. Highlights done in silver metallic ink. Some colored pencil used. While the text below indicates that Buto's venom comes from her bite, in my rendition it is Buto's tail which carries the deadly blow; hence, the eldritch flame and energy pulse from it.

Learn more about snake symbolism here.

Buto

(Uatchit, Udjat, Wadjit, Edjo)

Buto was a cobra-goddess whose original home and cult center was in the Delta of the Nile at Per-Uatchit. In time she became a prominent protectress of all of Lower Egypt. As such she was routinely connected to the goddess of Upper Egypt, Nekhebet. Together, they appeared in many pieces of art as symbols of the Two Lands, a united Egypt.

Buto did not just protect Egypt, she also was an aggressive defender of the king. She was portrayed as the uraeus cobra first worn on the brow of Re, and later the pharaohs'. Her hood is spread in a threatening position and she is ready to spit poison on all of the pharaoh's enemies or burn them with her fiery glare. It is thought perhaps that her powers could be used against the pharaoh as well. Her bite may have been the deadly device used by Anubis at the appointed time of the pharaoh's death.

Buto was a personification of the sun's burning heat and she was called the "Lady of Heaven" and the queen of all of the gods. She was closely associated with Horus the Elder, who was the protector god of Lower Egypt. Also she was associated with Harpokrates (Horus the Younger); she protected him from Seth in the marshes of the Delta while Isis was searching for the body of Osiris.

Source

Here is the unfinished draft ...

FROM OUR WORKSHOP: The Latest by Liz

RAWR by Liz on February 12, 2009

In Pencil by Liz on February 12, 2009

Black & White by Liz on February 14, 2009

FROM OUR WORKSHOP: Femininity

From Our Workshop: INARI'S BEADS

By Elizabeth Faber
Age 11, 6th Grade


Inari gazed at the sky and kicked the smooth, brown dirt beneath her sandals. She raised her arms and pretended to fly around like a super hero.

She jumped into the air, but then plopped down with a thud. She sighed deeply and put her chin in her hands. Inari began to do what she always does – daydream.

She thought about mythical beasts, princes and princesses, like in the stories. “I could be a hero,” she pondered, “… but how?” “Inari!” her mother called, “Dinner!”

While munching on her sweet potatoes, she told her mother about what she had been thinking about. “Mother,” she said, “I was thinking when I was outside. Well …do you believe in magic?”

But her mother scowled and shouted, “Inari! I have told you many times! Stop all this talk about nonsense and magic! I’ve had enough!" “You may be excused,” her father mumbled through his newspaper.

Inari took her dish into the kitchen, and then stomped outside. “AAAAAAAHHH!” She screamed in frustration once she got out. But, what’s this? Instead of her beautiful plains, before her was a gynormous, gold forest! “Fall? In Summer?” she thought.

Now, Inari was confused.

Inari stared at the golden trees. Before she knew it, she was walking into the dark mysterious forest. “Ugh!” she whispered to herself. “Stupid adventurous nature!”

She turned around to go home, but her red hair was tangled in a branch. As she worked on untangling her thick hair, she spotted a light. She started to walk towards it, and her hair came easily untangled. How strange.

Inari kept on walking, and when she came to the source of the light, she saw that there were no more trees. Instead they were replaced by an amazingly bright light and piles of golden leaves, hundreds of piles, in fact.

But she saw something else in the middle of the field. Is it a bead? Inari fought her way through the leaves and took a closer look. It wasn’t just one bead, it was a beaded necklace.

She picked up the necklace and brushed off the leaves. The necklace was beautifully designed with baby blue beads all around it. Each bead had either a tiny “I”, “H”, or “K” on it, written in beautiful calligraphy.

In the middle were three flame shaped pendants. One was white, but had a tiny area on the top that was light red. The second was a brown-orange color with some white on the bottom. The last was a dark blue that got lighter as the color neared the top.

Inari ran over to her neighbor, and also best friend, Taylor’s house. “Taylor, look! Look at what I found. It’s so pretty!” She shouted, as she put the necklace on. After gawking about the amazing details, they both went in search for more.

By the time Inari and Taylor got back to Inari’s house, Taylor was longing for an even better necklace. She was a complainer and always had to be better than Inari. Inari didn’t mind, though. She thought it was healthy to have a little competition in her life on the farm.

Anyway, when they arrived back at Inari’s house, for some reason the trees had disappeared. “Wha? How?” they exclaimed. Suddenly, Inari yelled, “It’s been abducted by aliens!” Taylor screamed, “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” and sprinted home. Inari giggled. In the end, she gave up on it and went to bed.

When Inari when woke up and looked on her side table, the beads were gone! She grunted and looked on the floor, but they weren’t there either. Inari yawned. She thought she just wasn’t completely awake yet and went to wash her face.

As she walked back into her room, ready to look for the beads, she screamed! Right in the middle of her carpet was a huge fox-like animal that had at least nine big, fluffy tails! Inari was speechless, but apparently the big red and white fox wasn’t.

“I am Honoo Kitsune, and I desperately need your help.”

“You … your mouth … talking.” Inari stammered.

“I know, I’m talking, but my mouth isn’t moving. It’s called telepathy.” Inari made a sort of Uh-ing noise. Disregarding her stumbling, Honoo explained further. “I am not from your universe. My brother, sister and I are from a place where creatures like us are common. The beads are a portal. When someone finds them, they activate it, and we come here. The activator was you, so you already did that deed for us. Unfortunately, we were split up in the process. I need you to find my brother and sister for me. Will you help?”

Inari always wanted to be a hero, and now was her chance. She accepted. “Very good,” Honoo said with relief. “Now, I only know where my brother might be, but when you find him, he will have more information about our sister. Here is what I know. He will be in some place dark … and probably chaotic. Oh, and please find both before sundown. If you don’t, they will be stuck in a vortex between universes.” Inari’s jaw was almost to the floor. “It’s a family thing,” Honoo added. “Now please hurry!”

Inari nodded and ran out of the house. “Dark and chaotic … hm,” she thought. Suddenly, she got an idea! She rain behind the house. The chicken coop! It had no windows, so it was pretty dark, and it had a bunch of chickens in it, so it had to be a chaotic place! Inari opened the door and walked in. All the chickens were huddled in a corner shivering with fear. Inari looked around, but nothing was to be seen. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a dark figure jumped at her! Mysteriously, the figure went through her, and she fainted.

“Ungh,” Inari said, as she sat up, “what happened?” “I almost took your soul,” a deep voice answered. Inari turned around quickly, and standing there was a big blue fox that looked like a shadow. It was many different shades of blue and had small wings, and a long, skinny tail. “Honoo’s brother!” Inari shouted. “Ah,” the creature said, “you are the activator. I am Kuro Kitsune, but I cannot tell you any more, as you are just a stupid human who wandered into a mysterious forest. Now, take me to my sister!” Inari turned to the door led Kuro to his sister. “What’s his problem?” she thought. When she got to Honoo, Kuro sat beside her. “Where is Itsu?” she asked her brother. Kuro glared at Inari and whispered something in his sister’s ear.

Honoo sighed and said, “Ugh … Kuro, why do you have to be like this?” “Just say it,” Kuro grumbled back.

“He says that Itsu, our little sister, will probably be somewhere peaceful and quiet.” Kuro nudged Honoor. “Oh my gosh! Fine! He also says that he still doesn’t trust you.” Kuro smiled, and Honoo rolled her eyes. But this didn’t bother Inari.

Inari ran out of her house and looked around. “Hm. Some place peaceful and quiet …” she thought. “Yes! I got it!” She said to herself, and ran over to the side of the house and into the horse’s barn. Inari always went there when she needed peace and quiet. She went in and looked at the horses. They looked as calm as always. Inari looked in every stall, but didn’t see anything.

By the time she got to the last stall, she had lost almost all hope. She flung her head over the edge and looked in. She gasped as she saw the small fox-like creature sleeping on a pile of hay. “Itsu?” she whispered. The adorable, white creature had a tiny bit of red on the tip of its poofy tail. She looked up at Inari with big, impossibly cute eyes.

Inari carefully picked up Itsu and left the barn. She looked upa t the sky, and it was almost sundown! She had to hurry! Inari sprinted back to her room. As she was running, she went past Taylor, who looked interested, and to distract her friend, she shouted, “Puppy!”

Inari let Itsu down, and Itsu walked over to her brother and sister. “It hope she wasn’t any trouble,” Hanoo said. “Itsu is just a baby. She can’t talk yet.”

“Oh, it was fine,” Inari replied.

Kuro sniffed Itsu and said, “I guess you’re alright, human. You took good care of my little sister.” He smiled. “Oh, we never got your name,” Honoo said.

Inari smiled.

“I’m Inari. Inari McCoy.”

“You can visit us any time you want,” Honoo said happily. “We will be at the snowy mountain west of here.” Inari nodded and waved goodbye as the three fox-like siblings walked outside. She followed them and watched them go. Then, as she looked around, she saw the old beads lying on the floor. She smiled and put them around her neck.

She, Inari McCoy, was a true hero.

FROM OUR WORKSHOP: Anime by Liz

Our daughter, Liz, is heavy into anime or Japanese cartoons, these days. She's also nurturing a love of Japanese culture and Tokyo. I'd like to share her two most recent artistic efforts, which she created to be avatars on Gaia.com, her latest cyber-passion.

And now for some creative writing ...

It may be somewhat obvious that I'm not posting any where near as often as I was before. This is because I'm working. Working, in a real job, a wonderful job, up at 5 a.m., in full face and hair before 7, and on a train bound for my favorite city by 7:15a.m. It's wonderful, it's purposeful, it's ... well, exhausting. Yes, that too, and I am still adjusting.

So, as I focus on that adjustment, may I offer, for your enjoyment (and my bragging) one of my daughter's essays, a true story. This is ...


The Swan
by Elizabeth (Liz) Faber
(c) October 2007

I groaned as the car pulled over at the beach. Quickly, my Mom got out and walked over to a group of swans. “Over here! There’s got to be at least 10 of them!” she shouted. Despite my aching stomach, I got up and walked into the sand, whining. The sand felt so sloshy and good on my feet that it actually made me feel a bit better.

I trotted over to my mom. There standing before me were at least 10 big, white swans acting like we weren’t there. The beautiful harmony birds were prettier than any other bird you would see. They were so white that if they were any whiter, they might hurt your eyes. As my mom started to walk over to the ocean, the beautiful white birds of peace were not taking notice of me at all. So, I took a step forward. One of them turned its head toward me. I took another. The swan turned around and faced me. Before I could take one more step, the bird started flapping its wings, but it did not take off. I took another step, and suddenly it charged me like a bull! Out of instinct, I boomed to my car, and slammed the door! When I caught my breath and looked back, the bird was just eating out of the little trough on the sand.

The bird of “peace” had tricked me.

MARILYN MONROE

Marilyn Monroe Relaxed

May 26, 1992

Original is 8.5 x 11, in pen and ink,

and done on Bristol card stock paper.

This is the only piece I've ever done on Monroe.

I like it because she seems clear eyed and still infused with her own spirit.

* * * * *

The American pantheon of gods and goddesses is made of up super heroes and classic movie stars. Where Greco-roman mythology has Artemis and Diana, American mythology has Wonder Woman. Where India has Ganesha, the remover of obstacles, America has Superman, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. There, in the mix, lies the modern day Venus, Marilyn Monroe. When American viewers were content with newspaper headlines and imagination, this enduring legend was created on the silver screen. Before the onset of the internet and the always buzzing paparazzi took away the mystery surrounding our celebrities, Monroe’s myth bloomed in pictures that had American swooning.

I recently read the memoirs of Andre De Dienes, whose estate upon his death on 1985 revealed unseen treasures of his photography and history with the American Goddess. I fell in love with his work, which is apropos given the subject. He photographed Monroe both before she was famous and during her career. In the early years, they traveled the country together. De Dienes was admittedly in love with her, and willingly submitted his lens to her chronic desire for attention. Where ever they went, men became enamored of her, wished to possess her, and proposed to her. Such was the curse she was born with, I think. But Andre didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he remained loyal to Monroe in his way even after the big screen made her infamous.

Vintage Marilyn Monroe by Andre De Dienes 1949

Some of the most provocative shots of Monroe were taken by De Dienes in the dead of night, when longing for worship (and no doubt unfulfilled by the motion picture industry) brought Monroe to his door. He obliged her and thus history was perpetuated.

Untitled of Marilyn Monroe by Andre De Dienes

Marilyn Monroe, a Goddess in the American pantheon, was the movie industry’s sacrifice before the Age of Aquarius riled up our country’s flower children and feminists. Norma Jean was a girl who wanted a mother. Marilyn Monroe was a sex goddess whose blood was spilled on the black altar of politics.

The tired, empty stare in her eyes, the drooping lids, not sexy but sacrileges, was evidence enough that her spirit had been taken long before her life was.

Good bye Norma Jean.

FROM OUR WORKSHOP

The Daily News Globe, New York City
Taken on August 9, 2005
All rights reserved.


Cabin
Taken in 1977, Lake Arrowhead
All rights reserved.


Cable Car, San Francisco
Taken on August 24, 2007
All rights reserved.

FROM OUR WORKSHOP: Serenity

Serenity is a Peace Faery, an elemental whose calling is healing. Whether healing the world or someone's body, someone's mind, or working to dissipate the never ending net of negativity that envelopes Mother Gaia, peace faeries are always busy in silent meditation or prayer. Their work is on the subtle plane. This particular feary is native to New Haven, but I'd wager other Peace Faeries can be found hanging off the hem of Ma's sari in India. Serenity went to be with Jen on Christmas of 2007, where she now does her work nestled in a warm cove of Jen’s personal office.

The Aura of Serenity.

Fooling around with Corel Draw.

Sculpted by Donna.
See faery mythos here.
Backyard Faeries by Donna & Liz Faber
(c) September 10, 2006
"Each Backyard Faery is sculpted individually and no two are alike.
They are hand painted and lovingly placed in a jar for safe keeping.
But don't worry, we do let them out eventually. "

FROM OUR WORKSHOP: Elizabeth's Faeries

We got into a faery frenzy in July of 2006, which wasn’t too long after we arrived in Connecticut. We were still getting to know our new house, and I was still unwinding after career/life overload in San Francisco. We had yet to experience the lessons on friends and family the following Christmas would bring us, and which would trigger a long series of therapeutic blog entries for me. I saw a picture in a magazine that inspired this whole thing, and the creative urge and its manifestation felt manic. It was so cool that I could go with it, that I had the room to express it, and that I didn’t have to derail for work. I’ve worked every day since high school, so this six month sabbatical was wonderful! I was also thrilled that my creative expression became realized three dimensionally through sculpture. This was a first and it was fascinating. What was equally as fascinating, although not quite surprising, was the way our daughter picked up the ball and ran with it. Elizabeth has sculpted in the past, and so took to this like a duck in water.

Elizabeth and I were engaged directly in faery creation for three straight days, together giving life and story to the first few faeries in our collection, some of which have since found homes with friends. The first will always be my favorites. I’m going to write more on this in my spiritual blog later, because this effort does have spiritual significance to me, but for right now, I’ll let them stand (or flutter) on their own merit.

Here are some of Elizabeth’s Faeries in what she says should be called the “Classified Faery Files” because we share even a tiny a glimpse of the creative process and thereby spoil the myth of their existence.

Well … you know as well as I do that myth and reality are interdependent.

The Kupla

This little fellow grew drowsy after the merry chase that landed him captured in this jar. This faery is a Kupla (koop-la), and he lives off the items he steals from the homes of humans. He is wearing pajamas, cut from big people pajamas, and had his teddy with him when he was taken. You'll note the teddy has wings also. This faery was captured by Liz, who knows (and has yet to divulge) his secret Kupla name. She figures he's already in the jar, so, why embarass the little guy.

Note: Elizabeth gave the Kupla to her girlfriend Lindsay for Christmas in 2007. He now resides happily in Ansonia, CT, where he strives to tease the family cat ... you know, when he feels like getting up.

My pen and ink rendering of Elizabeth's Kupla done in February 2007 and colorized with Corel.

Frostine, Queen of the Frost Faeries

Frostine is Queen of the Frost Faeries and an elemental. She is unhappy because she was caught and has many things to do! Don't worry, Frostine, we'll let you go soon, so you can join Jack Frost this winter and return to freezing dew drops.

Note: This Christmas 2007, Elizabeth gave Frostine to her bosom friend, Margaret. She now resides in Northford where she has been busy at work with winter decorating.

There are many more, but these were Elizabeth's first and so will always hold a special place in our family's faery history. We continue to make faeries in our workshop, the most recent of which is a water feary Elizabeth made. It has a mermaid tail. It's the coolest!

FROM OUR WORKSHOP: Salt Faery

This delightful little sprite hung around the house for weeks before she stayed in one place long enough for us to photograph her. Terribly shy, non-verbal and very quick, she wears no modern or natural clothing, and is perfectly innocent in shape and form. Because she doesn't speak, we had resigned ourselves to her presence. We couldn't hope to capture her unless she spoke her name.

Success! I received a shipment of genuine Himalayan Salt via UPS. Upon opening the box, this faery immediately and enthusiastically joined us, first flying about the salt rock lamp joyously, and then lighting upon a rock crystal. Resonating to the organic purity and spiritual significance of the salt rock, she refuses to leave now, save for a few laps around the salt lamp in the living room once every few hours.

We continue to observe the salt faery, but only cover her jar at night when the dog can't be supervised. During the day, she comes and go as she pleases. She doesn't seem native to this area, most particularly because she has assumed no New Haven behaviors or clothing styles (er ... she has no clothing at all). We will wait for the next full moon to see what happens. Elemental faeries seem very responsive to the moon when it is full.

By Donna L. Faber
September 16, 2007

View the full Backyard Faery Story here.

Here is a pen & ink rendering of our salt faery, colorized with Corel.

FROM OUR WORKSHOP: Backyard Faeries

Elizabeth and a Grass Faery.

Visit this site again!

Look for more individual "Backyard Faeries"

being presented in the future!

We moved into our new home in May of 2006. Immediately thereafter, Leslie began work on the back yard, clearing out overgrowth, tree stumps, and realigning the retaining wall. We stumbled upon a number of local faeries while working, and Elizabeth and I managed to capture a few before they scattered. One must have a faery's secret name in order to capture them, and obtaining it can be a daunting task. Luckily, we discovered that, for the most part, faeries are incredibly vain creatures (these are, anyway) who can be flattered into revealing the one thing that makes them vulnerable. We discovered this inadvertantly while making a fuss over the first faery we saw. Elizabeth and I exclaimed over her beauty, and as we continued, she kept hovering for more compliments.

After long and careful observation, we've learned a little about these tiny, ephemeral creatures, who continue to appear in our house and on our property. Native to the New Haven, Connecticut, area the Backyard Faeries we discovered have successfully adapted to living in suburbia, but also maintain their purest love of nature and Mother earth. You will find them a curious mixture of old and modern day America, as opposed to their European counterparts, whose roots lie in Old World Brittania and Celtic Ireland. We think they'll capture your hearts just like they captured ours.

Knowing full well the danger of revealing her secret name, this flower faery avoided capture for days. We almost squished her, when we found her sleeping atop the retaining wall in the backyard. She awoke confused (and captured), but hasn't been too angry so far. We're keeping our fingers crossed. An angry faery is a tricky faery. Don't worry, we'll let her go soon.

Backyard Faeries
by Donna & Liz Faber
(c) September 10, 2006

Each Backyard Faery is sculpted individually and no two are alike. They are hand painted and lovingly placed in a jar for safe keeping. But don't worry, we do let them out eventually.

Warning: It is highly recommended that you treat your faery with the utmost kindness and caution. While small and seemingly helpless in their jar, faeries own a surprisingly large amount of nature's power and can be very spiteful when aggravated. It's nothing they can help, however.

It's only their nature.

********************************************

Meet Teensy ...

While we were quite confident this was a Goth Faery, we had yet to discover her secret name. She landed on a windowsill in the study and demanded a close up because we gave other faeries so much attention. She was very jealous. A miniature embodiment of teenaged angst and rebellion, this Goth Faery had absorbed and demonstrated many standard punk rock behaviors (like belching and saying “dude” in her squeaky little voice, which we had yet to hear). She pouts regularly (as you can see), has a huge attitude (which she works diligently to hone), and knows, by heart, the lyrics to every Stevie Nicks song ever written.

It took some doing, but this feisty little faery finally confided (with great embarrassment) that her secret name is Teensy. We believe that embarrassment is due to her name being as un-goth like as it could be. After suffering a hefty dollop of oooo’s and aaaahhh’s, she adamantly insisted that her name was not Teensy, but “Tense”, which, we imagine, better suits her self image.

This is an untouched pen and ink rendering I did of Teensy.

Special Notes: Teensy (er, excuse me, Tense) was sculpted by Donna and is still flying around the house somewhere. She only uses her jar when strangers are around and she can’t find anywhere else to hide. The name "Backyard Faeries" and Teensy are copywritten by Donna L. Faber in 2007. Please do not copy or use anywhere without permission. Thanks.