Illustrations
Illustrations of children's booksdated 1998 until 2004, comment to the artist (click on an image to enlarge an artwork)
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The cauldron was alive: it was undoubtedly the Cauldron of Regeneration. A sound as if the stars and the sea and the mountains were singing, arose from the boiling of its waters.
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At midmost of the lawn was a little hill, and on it the tree of all trees, the most beautiful of them all. But that which was more beautiful even than the tree was the maiden that sat in the shade of it on the hillside.
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Where of old there had only be a rushy meadow in the middle of the valley, and a little noisy river; now there was a high hill, and on the top of it what seemed to be a great throne of rock.
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It was a princess, riding on a proud, matchless, snow-white horse. Around her shone and winged and sang and quiveringly twinkled three bright, beautiful wizard birds.
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Though one had opposed ten good shields to the arrow of the archer, it was well known that the shields would have been pierced, without hindering the arrow in its course.
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The proud and arching neck, the quivering, flaming, sapphire scales, the head with the aspect of complete vision, wisdom, empire and command.
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A great talon clutched in and broke at the foal; the least of its claws would be as big as the body of a well-grown man.
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On the black cloth of the banner its despicable eyes glanced cruelly, its length and bulk quivered, its merciless jaws were slavered with a foam of smoke and blood and flame.
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It was as if he were at the bottom of a deep well, so marvelously had the sides of the basket shot up into the air above his head.
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Great granite masses came hurtling through the air, and a marvel such as this was to be seen: the sword take one of them after the other, and sweep through it easily.
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I will not give the basket to you until it is full. With that he put the basket on the ground, and made ready for treading down the apples.
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A race of giants, plunged in antique stupor, the limbs of them huger than beech-boughs, tossed and sprawling over the floor.
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Nine stern, tall, princely warriors rose up out of the lake, and came forward. The dullest of their horned helmets glowed like the crimson setting sun.
