The Snow Queen: 6 of 7

Sixth Story:

The Lapland Woman and the Finland Woman

While laying low while Hurricane Isaac blew over, my sketchbook scribblings meandered back to The Snow Queen.  Hopefully, once I'm finished with this seven-part tale, my interest in this project will be renewed and Hans Christian Andersen's writings will again become a legitimate source of inspiration for me.

The sixth installment of The Snow Queen finds little Gerda seeking the advice of two slightly eccentric loners, and advancing to the Snow Queen's fortress.  The first wave of foes she confronts there - in true, RPG fashion - is a veritable army of snowflake monsters resembling all manner of wildlife.  

"... and some few were like little fat bears with their hair bristled; but all were dazzlingly white, and all were living snow-flakes."

The Snow Queen: 5 of 7

Fifth Story:

Little Robber-Girl

I'll make it through all seven parts of The Snow Queen yet!  I'll come clean: I didn't so much read this installment as skim through until I found an appealing bit of imagery.  A reindeer loaded down with bread and ham for a journey?  Sounds like me.

“you ought to look quite happy now; and here are two loaves and a ham, so that you need not starve.”

The Snow Queen: 4 of 7

Fourth Story:

The Prince and Princess

Another installment of The Snow Queen.  While I've lived in Louisiana long enough not to expect snow, perhaps I'd be more inclined to finish this snowy tale if it felt like winter at all: as it is, 70 degree February days just don't feel right to me.

This concept, while not entirely without merit, was probably better in my mind than it came out on paper.  Though both versions shown here are quite rough indeed, I think the pencil sketch is far superior (except in the animal silhouettes, which were done hastily and without much regard for anatomy).

“It seems to me as if somebody were behind us,” said Gerda...

"They are only dreams," said the crow...

The Snow Queen: 3 of 7

Honestly, I drew this quite a while ago for the third chapter of The Snow Queen.  I didn't put much time into it, and I meant to do something better for the blog.  However, this being sort of cute in spite of itself, and me wanting to move on, here it is.  Consider this my obligatory "Hummel Figurine" drawing.  Although, Hummels aren't normally crying inky, black tears from piteous, empty eye sockets.

Third Story:

The Flower Garden of the Woman Who Could Conjure

“I will give you my red shoes if you will give him back to me.”

[Ink & Watercolor on Weekly Planner]

The Snow Queen: 2 of 7

I regret that I still cannot weigh in on The Snow Queen as a whole, as I still have yet to finish reading it!  The first installment describes a sinister mirror that reflected things that were good and honorable unfavorably, and evil things beautifully.  The second story documents how fragments of that mirror lodged themselves in the eye and heart of a little boy, and how he was changed as a result.

Second Story:

A Little Boy and a Little Girl

“'Have they a queen bee?,' asked the little boy, for he knew that the real bees had a queen."

[Graphite on Moleskine]

The Snow Queen: 1 of 7

The Snow Queen is a tale in seven stories, so I deemed it worthy of seven drawings.

Story the First,

Which Describes a Looking-Glass and the Broken Fragments.

"...the people became hideous, and looked as if they stood on their heads and had no bodies."

[Grapite. Moleskine. ~2x4"]

What is it about drawing terribly ugly things that I find so satisfying?

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving.

The Pine Tree

The Pine Tree (or, The Fir Tree, if you like) was an especially depressing read for me.  I find it nearly impossible to summarize the moral of this tale without spoiling it completely, so I won't try.  I encourage you to read it yourself - a recommendation that I make startlingly seldom on this blog.

Thus, without further ado, I give you my chosen quote (taken entirely out of context of course, just to be silly, and because it mentions bacon - [what's more popular than bacon these days, eh?])

"It is a particularly uninteresting story.  Don't you know any about bacon or candle stumps?"

[Graphite. Paper. 7x4.5"]