Cailleach Dancing

She is finished, and off in a local art Award, but for the life of me, I could not get a decent photo.  This will have to do for now, I will trawl through all the (dozens!) of pics I took later to see if I can find a better one.  But it always seems to be a problem taking a photo of a large painting.  My photography skills are not the most wonderful, and it seems to be impossible to get every part of a large canvas in focus.  The colours aren't true either, sigh.  There is a much greater range from deep pink and purple, through to bright green, and the photo just doesn't capture it.

The 'Wolf Bride' is still in progress, I've got about 10 songs (some are quite short little things though), but two older ones have been ditched and more may go.  I'm still struggling with the narrative 'between' bits though, there are bits that I love, and bits I really don't but kind of need.  And sometimes I find I have to do contortionist tricks (or make some of the characters do them) to get characters and story where I want them/it to be at particular times, which sometimes leads to characters doing things which are OUT of character, or just not quite logical.  The poor father is particularly stretched in this regard, he seems to be about 3 different fathers at the moment, none of them quite compatible with the others.  I know humans can be contrary, complex creatures, but there does need to be some kind of narrative logic!  And it has to bear some resemblance to the original fairy tale, so there are certain non-negotiable story points that have to be visited.

But I will get there, even if I do eventually end up with 382 different drafts (I swear I'm up to about 15 now)!  For now, here's a little snippet that I quite like (though who knows if it will make the final cut!!), and a scrap of a song.  I hope to get around to putting the songs on Soundcloud or something soon, though, so you can actually hear them.

In her wanderings, when still quite young, she chanced upon an abandoned watchtower on a forgotten, weed-choked path, its lichened green and winter grey stones being slowly pulled apart by creeping fingers of bramble vine and tendrils of wild rose. A man-made place slowly reclaimed by the green and growing world, a refuge for an odd, wild girl who found no peace at home. 

Oh Papa, you say you'll find a man who'll treat me like a queen 

But will he love me for who I am, or who he wants me to be?

Will he look at the empty chair across from where he's eating tea 

And wonder why I'm not there, and where I am 

When the moon is full, and silver light is spinning round me 

And I can't go home because the stars are singing too loudly 

To let me sleep.

Text and Lyrics © Christina Cairns