Beautiful Shamrocks Vinyl Binder
Beautiful Shamrocks Vinyl Binders

A quick nod to St Patrick’s Day just gone with the sale of one of these binders. There are so many of my images that I have yet to put on binders. I must get to it as binders are good sellers for me. If anyone finds a massive chunk of time they can throw my way, I’d be eternally grateful!


May the Irish hills caress you.
May her lakes and rivers bless you.
May the luck of the Irish enfold you.
May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.
Irish Blessing


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Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah


First Night Design:

Another re-run for my Easter Egg Basket. Have a lovely Wednesday and keep smiling!
Sarah

Originally posted on First Night Design:

Easter Egg Basket © First Night DesignEaster Egg Basket © First Night Design—Available on cards, prints & posters

New for Easter.

Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah

View original


Originally posted on First Night Design:

The Racing Hare at Easter Pillows
The Racing Hare at Easter Pillows by FirstNightDesign

No post planned. No time to do much so this is the cushion I sold today. Looks rather good on other products too, though I say so myself as shouldn’t!

The Racing Hare at Easter Tiles
The Racing Hare at Easter Ceramic Tiles by FirstNightDesign

Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah

Related articles

View original


I’ve never been a great one for fantasy, unless you count a slight passion for time-travel and ghosts, so creating this dragon picture has come as quite a surprise to me, as it may do to you! As with The Grapes of Worth, it was work-in-progress at the end of November, a luscious grungy purple background just waiting for something perfect. That something perfect turned out to be a dragon. Who’d ‘ave thunk it.

The Purple Dragon
The Purple Dragon Greeting Card

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Sarah


Originally posted on AnAdventureInBosnia:

Emina by Alex Šantić Emina by Alex Šantić

Many centuries ago, it was a tradition for men to go for a turkish bath from time to time. This was where men would gather in a relaxed ambience to exhange small talk. This area was called Hamam.

Then, one young man who was returning from the Hamam, passed by the garden of the city imam (Muslim Pastor), saw the daughter of the imam. Struck by her beauty, he wrote a poem which later made him a famous poet.

Here is my humble translation of the poem, hope you like it.

At dusk, while returning from the warmth of the Hamam,

I passed by the garden of the old city Imam.

There in the garden, Under the shade of the jasmine tree,

A pitcher in her hand stood beautiful Emina.

 

What Beauty! I could swear by Imam!

That even the sultan would not be…

View original 241 more words


Originally posted on The Squirrel Review:

On the 17th of September, at just 18, Frida Kahlo found herself immobilized in hospital. She had been placed in a cast in order to secure the many injuries and fractures she received in a traumatic bus accident. Frida, forced to remain still for three months, discoverers painting. Bound to her bed for days on end, her parents formed a structure around her bed, placing a mirror as her roof. In this way, she became her own subject. This of course, gives great enlightenment as to why of her approximately one hundred and forty paintings, fifty-five of them are auto portraits. Here, we look at one of the most famous renditions of herself – The Two Fridas.

In her self-portraiture, Kahlo often examined a dialectic vision of the self, contemplating the disparities and differences found within an individual. Naturally, this deep personal reflection often led Kahlo to painting subject matter that was profoundly private. The Two Fridas perfectly highlights this…

View original 366 more words


Discreet French Charm

A change of pace to show you this charming vintage French advertising image, presumably to proclaim the delights of Saint Denis (see top of image), which comes from The Graphics Fairy. I enhanced the original and added the almond green border.

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Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah


It’s time to take advantage of Redbubble’s new promotion. From March 21st to March 24th, they’re giving 25% off Throw Pillows and Duvet Covers.
rbcushions

Click image to buy

rbduvets

Click image to buy

Promo:  25% off Duvet Covers and Throw Pillows

Coupon code: DECKOUT

Runs from: March 21 (12am PST) – March 24 (11:59pm PST)

Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah


This is an adaptation of an old photochrom postcard circa 1895 from Wikimedia showing the beach at Ostend, Belgium. I have used textures from 2 Lil’ Owls to age it further, along with a French document, also from 2 Lil’ Owls, to add ‘a little something extra’.


‘A beach is not only a sweep of sand, but shells of sea creatures, the sea glass, the seaweed, the incongruous objects washed up by the ocean.’
Henry Grunwald



“…vicinity to the sea is desirable, because it is easier to do nothing by the sea than anywhere else, and because bathing and basking on the shore cannot be considered an employment but only an apotheosis of loafing. (“Expiation”)”
― E.F. BensonThe Collected Ghost Stories of E.F. Benson


Sell Art Online

Photography Prints

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Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah


Originally posted on First Night Design:

Happy St Patrick’s Day to all my Irish friends and followers!

Shamrock for Ireland Cover For The iPad Mini
Shamrock for Ireland Cover For The iPad Mini by FirstNightDesign

Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah

View original


I have to confess to an unwavering passion for narrow streets. The temptation to go exploring and, inevitably, to get hopelessly lost, is overpowering. This type of street is often laid with cobblestones and not so easy for me this century since wheelchairs do not react kindly to such surfaces and juddering progress is rather painful on my decrepit old body.

The original photograph was charming, if a little on the dark side. It was this darkness that I decided to make a virtue. The title is tongue-in-cheek but the resulting image does look rather like a street that would lead to Roman Polanski’s vampires in The Fearless Vampire Killers, or any vampire film come to that!

Photograph Unsplash
Textures 2 Lil’ Owls

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Sarah


 “A revolt against nature: a woman genius”…Octave Mirbeau
Camille Claudel
8 December 1864 – 19 October 1943

Camille Claudel was a French sculptor and artist. Her fascination for clay, stone, and dirt, began when she was a young child, and as she came of age, despite the protestations of her mother, her father supported her to study art. Around 1884, she started working with Auguste Rodin and before long became his lover and confidante. Obviously her family was outraged by the affair.

After 1905, she was afflicted by a mental illness. In the throes of her paranoia, she destroyed much of her work. Today, only 90 pieces exist. She disappeared for long periods of time, which alarmed her family. She came to believe that Rodin had stolen her all her ideas and he would soon kill her. As a result, she hid from the world, locking herself in her workshop to work. In 1913, her brother convinced her to voluntarily enter a psychiatric hospital where she had numerous outbursts. Despite her agitation, whenever engrossed in creating art, she was always…

Read original History and Women.


“I doubt I would have written a line … unless some minor tragedy had sort of twisted my mind out of the normal rut.”

My daily rhythms of reading and writing were recently derailed by a temporary but acute illness that stopped, unceremoniously and without apology, the music to which mind and matter are entwined in their intimate tango. For the second time in my adult life — the first being a food poisoning episode — I was made palpably aware of how body and brain conspire in the thing we call being. The extreme physical weakness somehow short-circuited the “associative trails” upon which fruitful thinking is based and my card to the library of my own mind was mercilessly revoked, and yet I was granted access to a whole new terra incognita of the mind, a Wonderland of fragmentary ideas and sidewise gleams at Truth. Then, as recovery airlifted me out of the mental haze, returning to my mere baseline of cognitive function felt nothing short of miraculous — as soon as I resumed reading, everything sparked fireworks of connections and illuminated associative trails in all directions. It was as though the illness had catapulted me to a higher plane of what Oscar Wilde called the “temperament of receptivity.”

This, of course, is not an uncommon experience — both the tendency to treat illness as an abstraction until it befalls the concreteness of our body-minds, and the sense of not merely renewed but elevated mental and creative faculties coming out on the other end of a physically and mentally draining stretch. But no one has articulated this odd tradeoff more masterfully than…

View original: Roald Dahl on How Illness Emboldens Creativity: A Moving Letter to His Bedridden Mentor | Brain Pickings.


“Tell you what we’ll do,” she said. “We’ll drive to town and get some pickles, and some bread, and we’ll eat the pickles in the car, and then we’ll go to the station and get Daddy, and then we’ll bring Daddy home and make him take us for a ride in the boat. You’ll have to help him carry the sails down. O.K.?”
― J.D. Salinger, Down at the Dinghy

Photograph Unsplash
Textures 2 Lil’ Owls

Available at the following galleries:
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Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah


Photograph Unsplash.
Textures 2 Lil’ Owls.


Dover Beach — Matthew Arnold [1822-1888]

The sea is calm tonight. 
The tide is full, the moon lies fair 
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light 
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, 
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. 
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! 
Only, from the long line of spray 
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land, 
Listen! you hear the grating roar 
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling, 
At their return, up the high strand, 
Begin, and cease, and then again begin, 
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring 
The eternal note of sadness in. 
Sophocles long ago 
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought 
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow 
Of human misery; we 
Find also in the sound a thought, 
Hearing it by this distant northern sea. 
 
The Sea of Faith 
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore 
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled. 
But now I only hear 
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, 
Retreating, to the breath 
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear 
And naked shingles of the world. 
 
Ah, love, let us be true 
To one another! for the world, which seems 
To lie before us like a land of dreams, 
So various, so beautiful, so new, 
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, 
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; 
And we are here as on a darkling plain 
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, 
Where ignorant armies clash by night.


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Sarah

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Sarah Vernon

Sarah Vernon

Artist, Actress, Writer

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