For the longest time I've had this dream of being successful enough as a writer and illustrator that I can be afforded the space to really dive deep into my Realms of Faerie. That thought, that wish, is a constant in my daily life. Even if it is far back in my conscious thoughts, there's always a part of my brain that is dreaming of that ideal scenario.
How to get to that point, has, thus far, eluded me. But I think it is a long road to get to it. I believe that if I keep on moving down that road, I will eventually get there, one way or another.
So what would I create if/when that opportunity presents itself?
Rather a great many things, you can be assured.
All I want to do is populate my Realms of Faerie with strange, wonderful and often humorous characters, developing the worlds around them as I go. Honestly, I think up more characters, settings and stories than I could ever find the time to actually turn into written and illustrated pieces. But that is not going to stop me from trying!
Just this week, a moment of charged creativity (and it is often just a moment in time, little more than a few seconds) and these odd little fellows popped into my head...
Rollocks, they are. Little rounded stone beings, mostly covered in moss, that can be found in the Realms of Faerie, rolling up and down hills, along paths and through streams. Nobody really knows where they are off to, or what their purpose is. But you can generally hear one coming a good distance off, as they are fond of whistling and humming as they roll along their merry way.
Some Fae scholars believe that Rollocks somehow turn into Stone Faeries over the span of many, many years, though this is not known for sure. The theory goes that as the Rollocks age, they gradually grow bigger and slower. They start off quite round in shape, but through ages of rolling around everywhere, they begin to stretch out to be somewhat cylindrical, like a Faerie Stone. One day, they just stop rolling, as if they grow finally weary of it. They find a nice spot, usually with a good view (as it's what they will be looking at for the rest of their days!) and there you have it, a Rollock becomes a Faerie Stone.
This is the sort of thing I live for. Bringing a little creature to life and giving it a story, or a way that it fits in to the greater story. Sometimes they will be little more than set pieces, there to give the Realms of Faerie layers and depth. It's a wonderful feeling, creating something in this way, because these Rollocks exist now. They're out there somewhere, the sun drying their mossy covering as they meander through fields of golden flowers, or down a laneway with puddles that simply must be rolled through, mud and all.
I can almost hear them humming a tune as they tumble down the side of a mountain, happy and free. The song has no real discernible tune to it, it's more of an exercise in the sound of joyous BOMPOMs and DI-DAHs.
But maybe, if you're very lucky, you'll hear the hums and whistles of a gathering of Rollocks, their voices joining and twining into a secret music. Stone music.