Tiny Angels & Fairy Dwellings

Tiny angels are everywhere you dream they are and everywhere you need them to be. They watch over you with loving care and protect you from the shadows of life. Just when you think you are alone in a crisis, take heart because you are not alone. Tiny angels flutter around you like a thousand and one butterflies. Here then on this lens is a lovely array of them as well as a couple of my poems about angels. I write, paint and sculpt things with wings: tiny angels, fairies, women with wings so that flight might take them ore and they become birds. My artwork is about birds, fairies, angels, butterflies, just about anything with wings. I feel comfort in the idea of wings knowing that anything is possible and at any moment we can all take flight, both metaphorically and in reality. All we need to is decide on it, that flight and beauty are as close or as far away as we dream or cease dreaming. It is up to us, up to me and up to YOU.

I fell in love with the whole idea of making fairy dwellings in the yard some time ago too. It is the sweetest thing to see little houses made from organic material. like tree bark and rocks and leaves for beds. There are also many places to buy cute little fairy furniture too. All so dear.. tiny angels would approve.

One of my poems that fits this well is:

One Winged Angels Meet The Light, Tiny Angels Sigh

There's a sail that meets the storm.

There's a cure to the other side.

There's a melody I sing

when I feel lonely.

There's a cure to this fine line.

There's a song I fall back on.

Sweet fairy in the dark

breathe on me.

Play the violin

musical musician begin

I draw their note

and I dance to their melody.

I step out and hold that bar.

The song seems so holy.

I release the mocking bird.

I've seen that movie.

I stand for good when I can.

I fold the meadow in the land

when I feel lonely.

I ride the white horse

black, brown and red.

My unicorn wears a mask.

I melt my journey when undefined.

I melt this diary at times.

One winged angels meet the light

begging for forgiveness.

Struggling toward the moonlit pathway

charming snakes

that block my fragile resolve.

Weigh the tiny angels smoke

measure moments that dissolved

past...

at last.

These eyes did not find that line.

Earned, learned choices

are not always defined

enough

to accept reasonable resolutions.

Fairies in art

I color.

Dragons awake sometimes

stand up to demons

yours and mine

contemplate patterns

inspect their secrets

hope for revelations

hope for the best.

Claustrophobic

tongues of fire

Breathe past my breath

demands its own answers.

Holds a trial

convicts its unicorn of sorrow.

I hold on

remember every word

to those old songs.

No Dragon

no white horse

no zebras without stripes

no lions roar

...or do I hear them all?

By: Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

copyright 2011

ABOUT Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

I paint and sculpt female fantasy art and map faery tale adventures.

I dream of , whimsical angel pictures, legends of mermaids and fairies in art. Tiny angels whisper fantasy art, these innocent angels guide me. I also paint fantasy art of exotic women

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WELCOME... TURN ON THE MUSIC for a bit of ambiance as you visit my lens. That is Enya singing of course. You can purchase her CD's below.. yay.

There are soo MANY glorious ornaments to hang on your tree that are wing related. I love the idea of an all white tree that has only white ornaments... maybe a tad of gold or silver? In the background is the music of the holiday. This coming year we also create New Years Resolutions.. this poem below has a lot to do with that.

This Journey Called Life, My New Years Resolutions

This journey

life its called

this karma free for all

back and forth a saviors hell

attempts to speak to tiny angels.

In the lore

place mats on my table

protect the meal from wear.

Understood circumferences

worn

back and forth

never ends.

Perhaps that's the plan after all?

I write my journey

keep track of all those notes.

Plans for the future

watch ocean tides

chances for revival

blossoms on a tree.

I see tomorrow and me.

I spread my wings

fairy dust does coat each stroke

miracles tied

ever so cleverly

with a shipping vessels ropes.

Pelted with regret at times

undefined

yet

meeting too much definition.

Keep it still

float that boat

lift up my sail

bitter past

bitter note.

Lift up that sail

now, tomorrow and me.

Tiny angels that bleed

Angels never used to fall.

One fairy stood her ground

she stayed for me.

Gathered ideas

posted their lessons

weighed claims.

Rolled up useless

stored it anyway.

Each trial she met

an architects drawing

have to understand perspective

or buildings will fail.

I feel the edges

I scream that dream

so I can hear it.

Decode its secrets.

Five bottles left

they contain my rhythm

define the borders

at all cost.

Past rules and decisions

I define my fate.

If I don't watch myself

I will walk all over

stomp in the ground

that designated pathway

without a humble sound.

Hope in the seeing

sameness as an enemy

dig out those worn down pathways

dusty plans

redesign their voices

hear them clear

and every single day

reject their fading dots.

By: Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

copyright 2011

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THE IMAGE IS OF MY SCULPTURE "BLEEDING WINGS 6"

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Fairy houses

Sho can resist the enchantment of this music? I have this and to this day I never tire of it.

Hang them from the ceiling, or at your entryway. They make lovely guardians.

I would REALLY APPRECIATE A THUMBS UP top right TOO!