Tag Archives: modern calligraphy

Sniff

I wanted to make a grand announcement, I wanted something of a fanfare with trumpets and bunting, but it is not to be. I am underwhelmed by a cold and am feeling wretched. I do have news though. I have a brand new calligraphy blog. Yay. Go me. It is here:- www.loopy-letters.co.uk. And with this new website I begin a new project. This is not a bog standard calligraphy blog, oh no, this is a Scarlet Blue calligraphy blog. Obviously I would like to sell some calligraphy related bits and pieces, but the real purpose of Loopy Letters is to document my new project.

My intention is to write 100 Loopy Letters. Over the years I have found it difficult to combine my interest in creative writing with my addiction to calligraphy. If I sit and scribble short stories then my calligraphy suffers and my hand gets rusty. If I concentrate on calligraphy then my brain feels a bit numb. So I have decided to marry calligraphy with creative writing and write 100 fictional letters. And, these letters will be sent to people. The letters together might eventually form a longer narrative, or each letter might remain an individual flash of fiction. This project might turn out to be as challenging as the Chronicles of Mogwash…. Mogwash may even feature 🙂

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Scribbly, fast-hand calligraphy…

Anyhow, if you would like to receive a Loopy Letter in a beautiful calligraphed envelope, and be part of this project, then please contact me so that I can add you to my address list. I am hoping that I will get truly stuck into this project in the New Year.

Meanwhile, things will carry on as normal on Wonky Words. There will be more words. There will be pictures. But not necessarily in that order. Now please excuse me whilst I go blow my nose on the bunting.

Another Invitation of Sorts [Tales From Luddley-cum-Mogwash, Part 44]

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Bottled Temptation

Moonchild Etherington-Smythe, owner of the Viridian Venus gallery, gathers the post from the doormat as she breezes into her colourful domain causing the tassels on her sequined scarf to fly in her wake. She is no longer just a small time gallery owner; thanks to her huge online profile [13 million followers on Instagram and 50,000 Likes on her Facebook page] she is now also responsible for running a network of crafty workshops across the UK, and Malta. Workshops include: Whittling Abstract Spoons [spoons without handles and vice versa]; How To Express The Sound Of A Vacuum Cleaner Through The Medium Of Paint [ever popular]; How To Write Like A Two Year Old [inky fun, no previous experience necessary, only £60 per head]; AND, Generic Retailing [how to sell new-found skills online within five minutes of learning them]. Moonchild is proud of her artistic success. She is proud to be such a creative inspiration for so many people and, she is proud to be at the apex of the crafting pyramid.

Moonchild flicks through her mail before taking off her velvet coat and flinging it on the counter. A grey envelope draws her attention, she turns it over and caresses her name and address with her stubby ring stuffed fingers. The address feels raised, as if embossed.

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A Peculiar E

Moonchild is familiar with the craft of calligraphy, she smiles and nods approvingly as her eyes settle on a distinctive, wonky ‘g’, and the curvy, very peculiar ‘E’. Someone after my own heart, she thinks. She pauses and decides against tearing the envelope with her fingernails, instead she takes a pair of mini pinking shears from beneath the counter and carefully cuts a neat row of shark teeth across the top of the envelope. She tries to guess the nature of the invitation, because surely this has to be an invitation?
Within the envelope there are two pieces of brown cardboard taped together to protect the inner content. Moonchild snorts and expertly makes short shrift of the tape, she tosses the cardboard into the bin and places a black and white photograph of a bottle on top of her velvet coat.
What sort of game is this? She wonders. She turns the photograph over to reveal a scribbled time, date, and address: 8pm, 21st November 2045, Mogwash Village Hall, Mogwash. As a squally wind causes the gallery door to swing open, a memory recollects, and Moonchild is chilled to the bone.

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A Bad Memory?

We Interrupt this Blog Silence…..

…..to bring you two pictures of a hedgehog. Mr Devine has cornered the market on big sky and cormorants leaving me with nothing to work with other than a hedgehog…. so there you go… if you stare at a blog long enough eventually something new will appear. But perhaps not what you expect nor want.

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Snuffling

Another-hedgehog

Still snuffling…

And for those keen on pen marks and calligraphy, some recent work….

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Scruffy knickers…

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Addressing envelopes…

I will now make Ye Olde Blogging promise about updating more frequently in future etc, etc… etc…. blah, blah, blah…. *sincere well meaning face on head that is furiously nodding*…..

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The Dramatic Entrance….

Charmaine has returned home from her stint at being a genius crossword compiler. Apparently there was an ‘incident’ at Cousin Windsor’s [a right Batarde] that she will not speak of. Knowing my Cousin Windsor, trying to forget about it is the best way forward, and I will not press her further for information. With her she brought a picnic basket, which upon arrival she dumped in the hallway before ascending to her rightful place in my attic. Such a pity that in her absence the attic sprang a leak, so it came as no surprise to hear her shouting, screaming, and possibly stamping a bit before stomping back downstairs to disturb my revelry by bursting into my studio in an overtly stroppy manner.

‘What is the problem, child?’ I asked, barely looking up from whatever I was looking at.

‘The roof is leaking, all my clothes are soaked through and there is bird poo all over my vintage bakelite collection. And I bet you haven’t paid this?’

Charmaine stood in front of my desk waving a piece of paper. It was the electricity bill. I smiled wanly as the lights dimmed and then went out.

‘Obvously not,’ I said.

‘There’s nothing else for it, Aunt Scarlet, you’ll have to reopen the wedding calligraphy business, we can’t carry on living like this.’

And I said, ‘NO, NO, NO!’

I sighed, she did have a point, I had rather let things slide over the past five months, and it was true the roof was leaking, the paint was peeling and, much much worse than this, we were running out of gruel. Thankfully, at the back of my mind I had a spare plan.
I looked Charmaine up and down and considered how much money I could get for her if I advertised her dextrous skills on the right type of Internet site. She could look quite fetching in the dark, it suited her skin tone.

‘NO, NO, NO!’ Shrieked Charmaine as if reading my blog post over my shoulder as I typed.

‘Well, what do you suggest we do?’

‘These,’ said Charmaine, stabbing my latest creations with her stumpy index finger, ‘flog these, everybody loves a bit of gold and a bit of bling.’

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Flog these???

‘How?’

‘Don’t worry, Aunt Scarlet, leave the marketing to me, I have ideas, and Asmodeus will help.’

With the hazy image of Asmodeus hanging in the air, Charmaine flounced out of my studio in a purposeful, determined, #girlboss sort of way. Who the hell was Asmodeus? I shook my head dismissively. The girl had obviously gone a bit peculiar, but still, her positive ‘can do’ attitude had made me feel uneasy. Cousin Windsor had obviously instilled these ideas, ideas that were well above her station, and possibly above the steeple at the end of the lane, which was very high above indeed. I shuddered in my seat and felt a little faint because if she was successful it would mean that I would [heaven forbid] have to work.

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Work in progress…

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Now c ‘ere…

A Brand Spanking New Year

Ihave news!!! I have located Charmaine, after months of traipsing through the internet, following up sightings of her peculiar take on the ancient art of calligraphy, I have located her on a cryptic crossword site run by my cousin Windsor (a right Batarde!). She is masquerading as some sort of genius and giving out clues to fiendishly difficult crosswords like jelly babies. She is also appearing in pantomime as Cinderella at the end of Wigan pier.
I have sent her a letter urging her to return home soon as, with the promise of improved living conditions and use of the black and white telly on Sundays. I have also signed her up for some proper modern calligraphy lessons in London, which I hope she will review for us here. I am sure she will find this offer irresistible as she has had her eye on my black and white telly for some time now.

Meanwhile, there is no news of Harold.

And here is some calligraphy related stuff….

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Four gilded letters…

 

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‘t’

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‘g’

My resolution for 2016 is to glue more 23 carat gold on paper in a meaningful way.

Happy New Year!!!!!!! I will be pissed later and will probably making gruesome advances to all and sundry – apologies in advance.

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Manual Posting….

I am shattered. Since the strange disappearance of Harold and Charmaine my workload has increased exponentially… quite frankly I didn’t know that colouring-in could be quite so tiring. Plus, I have been overwhelmed by the desire to send ALL my blog posts manually. Who knows why???

Anyhow, here is some evidence of my industry…

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Anyhow, must fly, the post office is calling…

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….oh…. and don’t I have to do something with ten rolls of tin foil????