snip snip spaghetti

Well, here we are, Wednesday again! I do hope it's been a wonderful one for you; for me it is effectively a Sunday and heralds the start of another potentially awesome week of being a carnie artist and lording it at my marvellous market shoppe.

I must say I am feeling particularly chirpy and excited about this coming week, mostly because I can finally put my lovely readers out of their misery, and share the brand-new print I've been teasing you with these past few weeks!

Like almost every little girl, I loved the story of 'Rapunzel' growing up, and like almost every big little girl, I was absolutely delighted by Disney's gorgeous interpretation a few years back. Being a total geek, I've always been fascinated by the symbols and themes of traditional fairytales, and increasingly frustrated by the cotton-wool approach of so many modern interpretations. 'Tangled' is so unabashedly fun and charming in so many ways (not least the casting of the adorable Mandy Moore as the voice of Rapunzel) that you'll find few complaints from me there, harmless as it is.

In fact, this particular tale was watered down pretty much in its conception: by the time the Brothers Grimm got to it, Rapunzel was already snug in the mould of damsel in distress. Does it not strike anyone else as remotely dumb that she didn't just hack her plaits herself? Why wait for some silly prince to come along and knock her up before she decided she wanted freedom? (Oh yes, by the time the wicked witch threw her out, Miss 'Punzel was already up the duff with twins. But then, there's only so long storytellers can maintain their heroines' maidenhood with a story that is essentially about a girl trapped in a giant phallic symbol).

Even as a little girl the sorts of heroines I loved best were always the deciders of their own fate, and the sexier for it. Always pretty, but in an interesting and flawed sort of a way. Rapunzel is traditionally portrayed as golden-haired, but I much prefer the mysterious, exotic look of a raven-haired girl, and so decided my interpretation needed dark roots, 'dirty' roots even- I like to imagine dying her hair was the first thing she did when she escaped her tower prison and began her own little Rapunzel Rebellion. (This was mostly inspired by an enraptured viewing of old Green Day video clips showing on the blinking television set in the cheap 24 hour diner where she took refuge that first night of freedom). The regrowth is starting to show now that she's been on the road a few weeks. So too is her rose tattoo healing- she wanted something badass but decided that getting a tattoo was really quite outrageous enough, and would still have given rise to a right cracker of an argument had the old witch been there to see it, which made Rapunzel smile and enjoy the whole sadistic pleasure of being inked. And besides, Rapunzel isn't too tough to admit she really does have a soft spot for roses!

Like a typical teenager, Rapunzel gets bored waiting, with nothing to do. It must have been ages ago that she ordered. Maybe a little snip might give the waitress a hint . . .

Thoughts?

Mel x

rosa and the warm shiver

Good morning, fellow night owls!

I am very pleased to tell you all that I have, despite predictions to the contrary earlier on in the week, ticked almost everything important off my to-do list, and now can share a little something I've been working on.

This is Rosa, my own incarnation of that wonderful story, 'Little Red Riding Hood'. As a child, I always preferred these traditional folk-takes, and 'Red Riding Hood' probably best embodies that necessary quality of a good story: to be taken somewhere else entirely. For this reason I like playing visually with the idea of a 'warm shiver': that delicious crawling down your spine, the precarious feeling that your world might be toppling, that something might be 'off the leash' so to speak, and not so nicely watching you just out of your line of vision . . .

 There are about as many fabulous versions of this story as there are illustrators in Bologna come the annual book fair, but I must say I am probably fondest of those written by Perrault and the Brothers Grimm.

Although Perrault was said to have penned what was until that time a common French folk-tale, this is generally considered to be the inspiration for the modern, sugar-coated version we heard as children. The important difference between Perrault and his predecessors though, is of course the ending: "this wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding Hood, and ate her all up". Perrault's tale does not include the presence of the Woodcutter/ Hunstman, which only makes those thinly veiled innuendos that much the stronger in the wolf's invitation to Little Red, that she should 'come get into bed with me'. The wolf is used as a symbol of seduction, of dark and dangerous beauty and stealth, and quite successfully emphasises the foolishness of the young girl who goes a-wandering where she shouldn't.

Grimm's version, not unintentionally, is equally, well, grim. Red and Granny are rescued by means of that ever-capable Woodcutter gung-ho-ing his way in and playing scissors with Mr. Wolf's tummy as he takes a well-deserved nap, contented with his lady snacks. Once they are freed, the Woodcutter fills the wolf's stomach with rocks, stitches him up and plops him into the river- very much like last year's film 'Red Riding Hood' with Amanda Seyfried.

I think what I love most about these stories is that inherent danger of the wolf and what he and the dark woods represent (come on, admit it, it's a pretty sexy story!). Modern incarnations of fairytales are often like a checklist in political correctness; I think sometimes, it's nice to feel real emotion and be transported by a book- having it end not quite in the way we'd actually want it is part of the reason they're called 'fairytales' after all!

Happy reading my friends,

Mel x