Mixed Media Artist

Posts tagged “little red riding hood

IF ‘Instinct’ Little Red Riding Hood

little-red-ridinghood

Little red riding hood  knew she shouldn’t have strayed from the path.  Her mother had told her not to.  It was just that she wanted her grandmother to feel better and  knew that the sight of wild flowers would put a smile on her face.  But now, it was getting dark and she had the strangest feeling.  You know that feeling.  Like she was no longer alone.  Like someone was watching her.

Little red riding hood stopped picking flowers and stood up straight. Standing silently she listened for movement in the dark woods  surrounding her.  She moved the freshly picked flowers up toward her face. ‘Maybe their sweet smell would calm her’, she thought to herself, but this feeble gesture did nothing to ease her increasing feeling of  dread.  The harder she tried to listen, the louder her heartbeat pounded in her ears.  She was all at once being taken over by a horrible sense of foreboding.  Like she was being  devoured,  body and soul, by fear itself.


Little, Little Red Riding Hood

aceo-little-red

Here is a smaller version of Don’t Stray From The Path.  It is a mixed media ACEO that i finished today.

SOLD

Oh, by the way, yesterday I was featured in this really neat newsletter called Paper Street’s Catch Of The Day,  this is a family operation (even their eight year old son is involved).  You have to subscribe to get the newsletter emailed to you  http://paperstreetsupplies.com/

They also have a shop on etsy http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5291682

Thanks  you guys!


Don’t Stray From The Path

Little red riding hood knew she shouldn’t have strayed from the path.  Her mother had told her not to.  It was just that she wanted her grandmother to feel better and  knew that the sight of wild flowers would put a smile on her face.  But now, it was getting dark and she had the strangest feeling.  You know that feeling.  Like she was no longer alone.  Like someone was watching her.

Little red riding hood stopped picking flowers and stood up straight. Standing silently she listened for movement in the dark woods  surrounding her.  She moved the freshly picked flowers up toward her face. ‘Maybe their sweet smell would calm her’, she thought to herself, but this feeble gesture did nothing to ease her increasing feeling of  dread.  The harder she tried to listen, the louder her heartbeat pounded in her ears.  She was all at once being taken over by a horrible sense of foreboding.  Like she was being  devoured,  body and soul, by fear itself.

SOLD