He glides down dark alleyways and pounces on unsuspecting passers-by.
3″ felt mouse; white weskit, long black tail coat, black scarf, tall black topper.
I sold him to my very dear Katie at the illustration sale yesterday, which we were both manning. The name Frogling has stuck.
He is a wise old wizard with a love of adventure and not much sense. And, at times, somewhat flyaway whiskers.
(In the background is my beautiful craft box from The Lost Room, which I made off with just before it closed down.)
Turns out I left my little bag of felt oddments and mouse-bodies in the library on Monday. Kevin very kindly returned them yesterday afternoon. Deeply grateful, and ’tis fortunate that I don’t mind feeling silly: art-dom can be a solitary business, and I needs must entertain myself, however obliquely. (This seems to translate as: “Alack! I have been on my own too long! Too long!” But I’m not that bad, mad or gloomy.)
Offcuts from mouse clothing are TINY. But I hoard everything in the hope that they’ll have their moment, one day.
Also met a lovely person in the library who came over to ask me about my mouse-making habit and peruse my little creatures. He wished me all the very best with them. Thought about asking to take his picture. <3
I’m wondering if I can knit myself a hat without it ending up looking like a tea cosy. And have misplaced my long gloves. Eep, the cold, the rain, oh eep indeed.
He reminds me of the Ravens, druid assassins in Malcolm Pryce‘s Aberystwyth books. (They are wonderful.) Only he’s a mouse. Yeah.
I’ve been keeping quite busy lately with jewellery making and mouse-making. I don’t have the jewellery here to take any photographs, but the mice have been perfectly willing to pose for me.
They’re made of felt and stand a proud 3″ tall. Well, Herr Doktor has wire specs and ye Everton mouse has a little knitted scarf. Of course.
Oh, and I got featured on Genderfork. How about that?