…a giant story book on stilts…

I popped back to the shop at No: 2 Derby Street this morning to take some photographs, and add some sugar and spice, and a little magic and sparkle.

Now that the story text is in position in front of each drawing, the shop window has become an open picture book. I described it today as …a giant story book on stilts… which has planted several new ideas!  It looks amazing in the dark too. I used LED strip lights which were a bit fiddly to position and weave through the framework but are very effective.

I’m not sure people looking at the work will realise that each illustration is made up of the original drawings. This seemed to be the best solution given the short time scale and limited budget. I created them using  my usual technique of drawing over watercolour washes. I built several gorgeous new frontage boards to get specific textures and cover large areas quickly.

So here’s part three. If you can’t wait for my next post the full story is here along with more images.

Goose and the Gingerbread Moons


My story concerns Goose, the youngest child of the most revered of all the gingerbread bakers: a widow with 13 children. A fearsome lady who baked the sweetest and spiciest treats from dawn till dusk. Her recipe, a closely-guarded secret, was desired by all.Whilst the mother baked and sold her moreish produce to Lords and Ladies and Kings and Queens, her children obediently delivered her sweet-smelling parcels, still warm from the oven, to the doorsteps of the town’s guildsmen, councillors, clergy and elders.

But, never once did any child taste it…

Late one afternoon, when winters were winters, and the moon was a thin silver crescent in the sky, the baker’s children argued about who should deliver a certain package of delicious gingerbread.

‘What harm?’

‘It’s not far…’

‘We’ve all been and returned safely’

And so it was decided that Goose, the youngest of the revered baker’s 13 children, should deliver the gingerbread package to the dark house at Mystic Mews.

Before I forget, dear reader, you must be wondering why the boy was called Goose.

I’m sure you’ll agree that if choosing twelve fitting names for your children would be hard enough, then to choose a thirteenth would be out of the question. Upon seeing his long neck and skinny pink feet at his birth, he was known affectionately as Goose.

You may be equally curious about the address. Mystic Mews, as its name would suggest, was a place of secrets and shadows. A place that children feared, but dared to go. They said a witch lived there; some called her Jenny Green-Teeth and told how she moved unseen, hither and thither through secret tunnels beneath the town.

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