My latest collaboration is with artist & writer Grace Nuth and photographer Paula Schoultz. I’ve know Grace for over a decade and am so excited to work with her as she is the authority on all things Faerie. She is the co-author of the 2017 book The Faerie Handbook: An Enchanting Compendium of Literature, Lore, Art, Recipes, and Projects, published by Harper Design. She is also the Senior Editor of Enchanted Living Magazine. I have worked with the magical Paula before and adore the bold and colorful stories she tells with her photographs. She earned her Bachelor of Fine Arts in Photography from Herron School of Art and is a freelance photographer in Indianpolis, IN.

Together we have created a new spring window display for the Harrison Center in downtown Indianapolis. The theme is “Hope” so I formed my window around the story of four Moth Faerie Sisters who bring Hope to the world on the night of a full Blue Moon. I made four of my art dolls for the sisters Aeval, Undine Merle, Rowan Grace and Oona. The dolls are stylized and based on my love ancient Greek and Egyptian sculptures that were seen as guardians. I make my dolls out of Creative Paperclay and vintage textile pieces. I painted the foreground and background for the window with watercolor paints. Based on my dolls and idea, Grace wrote the story about the four sisters and it is delightful! Please read it below and enjoy. Paula’s photographs have really captured the spirit of the whole piece. The window will be up until May 2021.

The Moth Faerie Sisters of the Old Wood

by Grace Nuth

All of the creatures of the Old Wood looked forward to the day each spring when the sisters came together to dance. They were born many ages ago when old Mother Oak was still a sapling. Although they always felt the bond of sisterhood, as they grew older, they each felt drawn to different elements within the boundaries of the forest. 

Aeval felt drawn to the animals within the woods. She noticed each bird as it sang from the trees, delighted in each new squirrel baby, the size of an acorn, born each spring. The sight of a faun in a forest clearing, with its dappled sides blending with the light filtering down through the leaves made her clasp her hands to her breast with utter joy. And she mourned every loss of life the forest might endure.

Undine Merle was in love with the rushing waters that bubbled and laughed in the brooks, or pushed in torrential splendor in the mighty river. She could swim through the most turbulent stream as if she was running in a meadow, and she danced along the slippery rocks near the tallest waterfall, and never fell in. 

Oona loved the other fey folk who can always be found in the woods, just outside the borders of what the human eye could see. She knew the best places in the forest to cross between the world of Faerieland and the mortal realm: each branch arched just so to form a portal, every hollow stump a faerie could walk into and emerge Elsewhere. And she cared for each fey being there, from the moss-covered trolls to the grumpy gnomes.

And Rowan Grace loved the trees, and the plants, and every green growing thing in the Old Wood. She shivered with joy at each susurration of the tall tree branches as the wind whispered messages that only she could hear. Every fern fiddlehead that unfurled in spring had been touched by her fingers and celebrated in its glowing verdant beauty. .

Each sister saw something different when she gazed at the forest, and eventually each sister drifted to different places within its borders, to protect and nurture each aspect of the magic of the woods.  

And yet, each spring, when the first crocus spread its green fingers and tiny buds above the dirt, when the first tiny fur-covered baby was born within the forest boundaries, when the stillest and quietest pond would finally thaw, and when the faerie portals began to shimmer, they would each return to old Mother Oak at the center of the woods to celebrate the forest awakening. 

At first, the sisters would come close together in a tight embrace, joyful and thankful to see each other again. And then, the branches would sway and whisper a song. And then the birds would sing a tune. And then the brooks would laugh and babble. And then the faerie folk would lift their fiddles and flutes and play. The sisters would begin to spin and dance, until their multi-colored wings became a rainbow of color. And anyone watching them would see the forest as it truly was, and indeed, the world as it truly was: a euphoria of small details, of tiny moments, of interwoven experiences all coming together to form the magic of every day. And the hearts of all who saw them would nearly burst for joy and gratitude at life and all it woke within them.

Will you join their dance?