Way Up High.

As ever, I am entranced by these moleskine illustrations by Marco Mazzoni. 

Music for moody autumn evenings from Galaxie 500. 

Twin Peaks...

... where you have you been all my life?

Finally got round to watching the pilot last night. Needless to say, I loved it. 

It's great knowing you have a whole awesome tv series ahead of you.

Fan artwork of Agent Dale Cooper's Diane by Sam Bosma. 

Halos Hang Low: Heather Gargon.

Halos Hang Low (from the Evolution of Mary Magafin series).

This evening I'm entranced by Heather Gargon's strange and surreal creatures.

See more here. 

Goodbye, Maurice Sendak.

Here.

10th June 1928 - 8th May 2012.

Where The Wild Things Are will continue to fill my dreams. 

R.I.P.

Fresh Faces, Deafening Demons; Nimit Malavia.

Deafening Demons.

The Little Things.

Canadian illustrator Nimit Malavia's figures, caught in tendrils of smoke and moments of stress, have captured my imagination this afternoon. There's something strangely transcendental about these moments of sadness.

See more on his website and blog.

The Climb Continues? Sam Wolfe Connelly.

Thirteen Steps in the Underworld.

A recent Sam Wolfe Connelly piece for an upcoming Su-Yee Lin story, soon to be published on Tor. I look forward to reading it once it's up; this image has certainly sparked my interest.

I love the delicate sense of fear and hesitation shown by the positioning of the figure's hands. And as always, Connelly's sepia tones and shadowy contours. The lighting from below is particularly perfect.

The slight impression of claustrophobia speaks to my apparent inability to get any work done today... The climb that began last week continues, but slowly today, it seems.

What do you do when you feel unproductive? How do you drive away procrastination?

Getting off the damn internet would probably be a good start.

Our Hands Will Eventually Destroy Everything Beautiful; Fumi Nakamura.

In Your Soul Are Infinitely Precious Things That Cannot Be Taken From You.

I Want To Be Your Favorite Hello And Your Hardest Goodbye.

Nothing Matters, We Are The Sweetest Mistakes.

The Nature Speaks In Its Secret Language That Translates Into Shapes.

These amazing artworks by Japanese-born New York-based Fumi Nakamura are created entirely with graphite and coloured pencil - such unusual materials, but such intense and intricate results.

I really love these white-haired weird figures, tangled in flora and fauna; and when you care to look closer, pierced all over with coloured arrows. Equally enchanting are her titles - I am such an admirer of words when wielded well, and these hint at a nuanced narrative, while giving space for growth in our imaginations.

On the subject of words, it's worthwhile reading J.L. Schnabel's recent interview with Nakamura in Hi-Fructose: an insight into her intriguing technique and worldview.

See more of Nakamura's work on her website.

"Feral Princesses"; Justin Duerr.

This evening I am thoroughly enamored of Justin Duerr's dark and detailed damsels.

They somehow remind me of Fuschia Gormenghast; there's so much feeling in their faces.

I do believe Duerr may be a fixation for a while; you can peruse his artwork, music and words (from which I took the title of this post) over on his website.

Such Sweet Sorrow; Sam Wolfe Connelly.

Alex.

Bleary Night.

Backfill.

The sheer gorgeousness of these graphite works by Sam Wolfe Connelly have set my teeth on edge. Especially Alex; the grief on the girl's face is almost too exquisite. I wish I could purchase a print... If you have more money than I do at the moment, you can make it your own here. The piece's backstory gives it even more power:

"This is a portrait of the one girl [I] used to treasure more than anything.

Her expression in the drawing is actually from a photograph I took some time back, of her crying right before she left me. She never knew that this photo was taken. I had no reason of even why I took a picture of her, or what possessed me to keep it. Immediately after I had taken it I had forgotten about it, up until right before my show when I found it digging through my things. So, I turned it into a drawing."

See more of his work here.

Vania Zouravliov.

Both images from the artist's online portfolio, here.

These images are by Russian artist Vania Zouravliov (who created the cover art for The Night Circus, which I reviewed a while ago). They make me feel as though I've entered a freezing and frightening fairytale landscape... But they're so intricate and engrossing that I can't look away.

The Night Circus.

I have been wanting to write about this novel for quite a while now, so when my brother visited recently I jumped at the chance to use his camera and get a couple of shots of the amazing artwork and black page edges.

This is the UK edition; the US cover, by Helen Musselwhite, is also lovely - and the main difference I would pick out is the presence of the hand holding the circus tents (the significance of which can only be revealed in reading the novel), while the UK cover underlines the romance aspect of the plot. Regardless, this is a rare and beautiful case of a book's cover cohering perfectly with its content - Vania Zouravliov's illustrations are so perfectly attuned to Erin Morgenstern's intricate and imaginative prose.

Aesthetics aside, The Night Circus is one of the best books I have read in a very long time. Even as I begin, I am doubtful I can find the words to do justice to Morgenstern's mastery. The Night Circus is utterly magical, and replete with such intense and original imagery. A botanic garden made entirely of ice, a candle-covered wishing tree, a bonfire ablaze with white fire, a maze made of clouds... And these are all features of the most enchanting and engaging image of all: the eponymous nocturnal black & white circus.

Morgenstern's prose is so wonderfully sensual - the reader is wrapped up in the sounds, smells and sensations of the Le Cirque des Rêves; caramel, autumn leaves, hot cider, candle smoke, the pages of old books... Even the names of the characters feel special when you say them out loud: Celia Bowen, Marco Alisdair, Chandresh Christophe Lefèvre, Lainie Burgess, Tsukiko, Poppet & Widget... They trip off your tongue like strange music.

The novel is a rich tapestry of allegory and imagination, beautifully blurring the boundaries between the "real" world, and one filled with dark and dangerous delights. And, as hinted at above, The Night Circus is ultimately about love; specifically, the love between an enchanter's daughter and a magician's apprentice. There is something eternal about Celia & Marco's story - Morgernstern expresses the all-or-nothing love so integral to so many great stories, suggested by snatches of Shakespeare and wisps of Oscar Wilde.

A little while ago, J.L. Schnabel of Bloodmilk wrote a post about this book, hinting at some jewels in homage to it. I can only dream of what she might conjure up in tribute.

Fold yourself into this disconcertingly tangible and totally delightful fin-de-siècle fantasy. You will not be disappointed.

Sylvia Plath's Sketches.

A selection of Sylvia Plath's sketches (taken from The Guardian's online gallery) which will be on display at The Mayor Gallery in London until the 17th of December.

I think they're so defiant and delightful. They show a very different side to her - I adore her poetry, but with her artwork I think we get a glimpse of a perhaps more playful personality.

"I don't feel anything. Am I wicked?"

Fuschia, ink drawing.

Steerpike comes to Fuschia's attic, from the pages of Mervyn Peake's handwritten manuscript.

(Images from the Gormenghast section of the official Peake website.)

I first read Meryvn Peake's Gormenghast Trilogy when I was about 14. Rather than being confused by its complexities and the gradual descent into complete chaos, I was always enthralled, especially by the character of Lady Fuschia Groan:

"...a girl of about fifteen with long, rather wild black hair. She was gauche in movement and in a sense, ugly of face, but with how small a twist might she not suddenly have become beautiful. Her sullen mouth was full and rich – her eyes smouldered."

The idea of a castle in which a young woman could lose herself and hide from her family for a fortnight was always fascinating to me - in my head, my bedroom became Fuschia's attic haven. I think the Gormenghast books have always appealed to me because they are just so beautifully grotesque - and they are still as contemporary as when they were first published, over 6o years ago.

This year marks Mervyn Peake's centenary.

He really was a remarkable man, whose creativity flourished despite a debilitating disease - his writing and his artwork have always amazed and inspired me.

Tomorrow, an exhibition entitled "Lines of Flight" opens at the Laing Gallery in Newcastle. It's one of the biggest Peake retrospectives ever staged. Not only will the cast of Gormenghast be present, but also illustrations by Peake of some of Lewis Carroll's characters, as well as villains from Stevenson's Treasure Island & Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

I think I am the busiest I have ever been, but I know I will find time to pay them a visit.

You can read about other Peake events taking place on the Mervyn Peake blog, which is curated by his eldest son Sebastian Peake, here.