For part II of my Halloweek series, Danica and I blatantly ripped off my favorite living artist, Courtney Brooke of lightwitch. I almost don’t want to link her here because my work is so shoddy in comparison, but there you go. I was tempted to go full plagiarist and get naked in the river, but Vermont is cold, dammit.
Photos of me by Danica. Photos of Danica, as well as all editing, by me.
Maybe I can play the fae queen after all.
Summer shifts my style from the starched primness of spring and into something looser and more ragged. I feel safe in the brightness of the days; I no longer have to supply my own via baubles. Summer is my time to play with the fae and the gothic. And I always feel so very roaring 20s in my fae garb. Like there’s something roaring into being under all those silks. Like I can create myself and the world anew every goddamn day if I please.
I saw Maleficent again last night, with Josh and Holly this time. I liked it better the second time around. The simplicity I previously derided now seems to work in its favor. When it comes right down, it’s a fairy tale. Building a story so obviously on the back of archetype would be questionable in another film, but I find it acceptably fae. The movie works a lot better when you read it as an overdeveloped fairy tale rather than an underdeveloped original story.
And I still don’t know why I love Maleficent the character so much. I get a tingly, heady thrill watching her in action; I can’t decide if I want to be her or possess her. But I’ve always adored the lean, steely fae queen archetype. Wished my natural features screamed less “cute and sunny” and more “fierce and fearsome”. I am not fit to play a Maleficent or an Elphaba or a Morgana. I lean far more toward Flora, Fauna, or Merryweather. But hey – that’s how creation delivered me. And I’ve always enjoyed the contrast between insides and outsides.
I took these photos in the first morning light – sans lipstick, sans anything. I’ve always felt my lips look weirdly naked without it. But sometimes a lack of artifice is just what we need.
I have always pledged affinity with magical beings. I love the heights of angelwings and the depths of Beelzebub and co. Merrily suspending disbelief, I hunt for ghosts at twilight and fairies in the morning: who cares if they’re “real”? Even the (probably) nonexistent has its own kind of truth. If you’re into Campbell and Jung and Eliade, our whole worlds spin out from our psyches anyway. There is great power in designing my own.
Usually I’m a witch, but today, yesterday, recently I’ve been fae. I am less a crone anchored to a tumultuous earth than a pixie on the wind. I am a neo-flapper wresting amusement from every corner of the world. I want to make a fool of this godforsaken planet and feel the oceans blush.