#FolktaleWeek2020 - Day 5 Picks: Death

by Lesley Smitheringale Studio
My series of illustrations are from a North American folk story about a raven and a peacock which I fell in love with. (Lesley is using the prompts to create sequential illustrations for one story this week. It's a great way to think outside the box for the net scene for, example, a picture book!)

 Day five's prompt is DEATH.

(We were thrilled to see a wide range of responses to this prompt. While some are sad, or violent, others have a completely different take. Enjoy.)

by Cynthia Cliff (@ceecliff_art)
In folktales and in fairytales often the endings are not happy and sometimes there is even death. It comes in many forms—by a dragon or an evil potion, and occasionally by a broken heart. In some tales it is a permanent condition and once in a while, in the land of storytelling, it is not. Which will this one be?

by Eleanora Asparuhova (@elleasparuhova)
‘Once upon a time there was a man who wanted to run away from Death. But Death was everywhere - in the wind, in the branches of the trees, in the wild berries...’

by Victoria Fomina (@victoria_fomina_art)

by Maxine Lee Mackie (@maxineleemackie)
A #bluebeard #inkdrawing for today's prompt - #death

by Jürgen V. Blankenhagen (@Skizzig)

The blacksmith from Rumpelbach (translated via Google Translate) Because a blacksmith in Nussdorf am Inn once took in St. Peter, he granted him three wishes. His first wish was that no one could get down from his pear tree unless he explicitly allowed it. So the blacksmith was finally able to outsmart death. He then locked the devil in his coal cellar and when he finally got tired of his life, he threw his hat into paradise, because where his hat was, his home was also. So he tricked Death the devil and Peter and felt very clever piggy in paradise.

by CapEllis Designs
Today's theme is Death. This illustration is inspired by the Philippine folktale, The Datto Somacuel.

by Green Rain Art by Anya Kopotilova
“The Death of the wicked sorcerer can be found on the tip of the needle, which is hidden in the egg, which is hidden in a duck, which is hidden in a hare, who runs in the darkest forest”

by Bee Dixon
She danced where the dead don’t dance. A shadowy place where angels of darkness shriek and wail, “May your precious red shoes dance you until you fade into a ghostly dusk.”

by Scott Keenan Illustration
“Snow White craved the perfect looking apple, and as she watched the farmer’s wife taste it, she could no longer resist. She held out her hand and took the poisoned half.”

by MartaPilosio_Illustration
Day 5 of #folktaleweek with the prompt: Death. This couldn’t be anything but Arthur’s death and his slow flowing towards Avalon.

by Sabine Waldmann-Brun
She enjoyed the beauty of the bird's dance and song, but then to her grief had to realize it burn and die. Zabiba knelt at the side of the dead body and her tears fell on the burnt breast feathers. 

by Joanna Illustrations
Do you consider death as something bad, good or maybe neutral?

by Soni Speight (@sonispeight)
 If anyone came looking for the child and meant her harm they were met with death, so many ghosts roamed the trees

by 

óóChechula!

@chechulalala
Death...so here is Godmother Death from that creepy brothers Grimm's fairytale

by Katrin Dreiling (@dreiling_katrin)
‘Death’ - this is a Brothers Grimm folktale in which Death proofs to his godson that he can’t be tricked.

by Imogen Joy (@imogenjoy_illustration)
DAY 5: “CORVELLO & THE BIRD QUEEN” (Written and Illustrated by Imogen Joy) -- DAY 5: PROMPT ~ DEATH -- And so the Bird Queen went on, tormenting village after village until the whole land was bathed in darkness. Then she gleefully ordered her bewitched flock to fly to the last village, the one in which Corvello’s bereft mother lived. The flock flew towards the village. Just as they had almost reached its edge, suddenly with an almighty surge, every single bird in the flock soared higher and higher into the sky... further and further away from the village, and the land, until they were high above the ocean. -- Furiously their wings flapped, bewildering the sorceress who screeched “You are my servants! Do as I command you!” ... then through the deafening flap of wings came Corvello’s calm and commanding voice “Too long have we been at your mercy. Now you must feel what it is to be powerless” and beating their wings ever more furiously the flock dropped the Bird Queen into the sea below. Her screeching faded to silence as she and her darkness were swallowed by the hungry crashing waves.

by Sarah Ekström (@sarahek.illustration)
Death would always be there and show himself to him, and it should be to him for a sure token if he saw Death at the foot of the bed that he could cure the sick with a draught from the keg; but if he sat by the pillow, there was no healing nor medicine, for then the sick belonged to Death. -- Folktale week, day 5: Death -- This Norwegian folktale is called « Death and the Doctor ». A man on a journey has a keg of Yule-al and wants to drink it with someone. He meets Death and decides to share it with him. Death enjoys the drink so much that he wants to bless the man. He turned the Yule-al into a healing drink so that the man could make the sick whole again, better than any doctor. And when the man should come into the sick man’s room Death would show himself, if he saw Death at the foot of the bed, the sick would be cured by drinking the Yule-al. On the other hand, if he saw Death by the pillow, no medicine would help and the sick belonged to Death. -- The man got famous with his healing powers and helped many to health again. One day he was called into a king’s daughter, she was so dangerously ill no doctor thought she could be saved. When the man stepped into her room, he saw Death by the pillow. Then he decided to fool Death so that the princess would live. Do you think he succeeded?

by Kath Waxman (@kathwaxman)
(focusing on Shakespeare stories and folktales as a theme for the week) Death -- The Black Plague -- Shakespeare lived his entire life in the shadow of the bubonic plague, and his collected works were littered with references to the Black Death. Outbreaks raged on and off for years during the 16th century, and it was terrifyingly contagious. Numerous preventative measures were put in place to stave off the disease--from the use of various leaves and spices to ward off the effects of the disease and clear the air of infection, to early social distancing guidelines in London’s theater district, to radical new procedures in the realm of medicine. The period, while known for its tremendous suffering and incredible death toll, was also a period of remarkable change, rebirth and innovation. The Renaissance was marked by new thoughts, beliefs, creativity, and imagination. These are the same traits that inspired us to create Wee Will Shaxbard, and we hope will inspire young readers as well.

by Elin Manon Illustration
Bedd Branwen / Branwen’s grave - In North Wales on the Isle of Anglesey there is a ring cairn which is said to be the grave of Branwen daughter of Llŷr, whose story you can find in the second branch of The Mabinogi. After coming back to Wales following the events in Ireland, it is said that Branwen died of a broken heart. When excavating the site, cremation urns were found as well as a jet necklace and three vessels containing the detached ear bones of children

by Deborah Stein (@deborah.j.stein)
Folktale Week Day 5 is Death. -- I worked on this in a chair in my mother’s room the night before she died as she slept. I made so many images born from the magical thinking that if I can no longer protect her, there was something else that would. In those moments I was hoping they were making themselves known as she was passing. -- Then the best rabbi I have ever encountered (he is the fourth) from hospice told me that in Jewish thought, when we die, we are united with all of those who have loved us and those we have loved. We are united with the universe and are protected as we protect and when I went on to finish this one this week, I felt all of this. -- Beliefs and even origin stories are a different older animal than folktales but I found great comfort in the conjuring of all these mournful meditations, more talisman than anything else. So many artists meditating on this today is a beautiful day on Instagram.

by Joanna Allen (@joannaallenstudio)
Lucretia Atropos is a forest witch. She is feeling restless and slightly light-headed, as she delicately sips her evening psychoactive tisane. She has skillfully concocted this thick, dark brew from over-ripened belladonna berries. -- She is waiting impatiently for the full moon to rise and the potion to take its effect so she may take an exhilarating night flight with her Death's Head Hawk Moth familiars. -- If she should ever invite you into her quaint home for a cup of tea, decline politely, and whatever you do, don't look into her deep black eyes.

by Imogen (@imogenfoxell)
Death for day 5 of #folktaleweek2020 - gambling Hansel tricks Death into getting stuck in a tree, so that he can go right on gambling. St Peter and the devil are getting pretty worried that no one is dying any more.

by Kristina Kister (@nichtlicht)

by Freya Hartas (@freyahartas)
This piece was inspired by William Allingham's wonderfully dark poem 'The Fairies'. Read an extract below:
They stole little Bridget
For seven years long;
When she came down again
Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back,
Between the night and morrow,
They thought that she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lake,
On a bed of fig-leaves,
Watching till she wake

by Heidi Griffiths (Aheidi_griffiths_art)
Thumbelina (Blossom) finds a swallow, cold on the ground and presumed dead. Mouse and mole laugh at the stupidity of the swallow, and how he has not flown south before the snow.
Blossom has empathy for the frozen bird and weaves a blanket of reeds and lay flowers at his graveside. (There is a happy ending to this I promise )To her surprise, the swallow wakes up by the warmth of her kindness and is revived. - ‘Oh great swallow, the world shall miss you dearly, may you fly in the warmth of the eternal sun’

by Marta Dorado (@martadorado)
(5/7 of an original tale) DEATH: One night, after being rejected once again by the princess, the evil advisor, maddened with hatred, tried to take her by force. But he hadn't realized that it was the shortest night of the year. -- "You can't end me, I am the only one whom can reverse the spell. If I die, you will remain a beast forever!" He cried in terror at the great grey wolf... And the last thing he ever heard was a howl of victory.

by Laure Allain (@laure_illustrations)
While she is waiting for her much dreaded wedding day, Thumbelina finds a bird that has frozen to death. She loves birds and thanks him for singing to her during the previous summer. Then she covers the poor creature to try and warm him. After a while, the impossible happens and she hears the swallow’s heartbeat

by Debra Styer (@debrastyer)
Today's illustration was inspired by the Swedish folktale, "The Ghost of Fjelkinge". In this story, the brave widowed Madame Barkenow stays at a haunted inn. Unlike, the past visitors that see the ghost and run away, she stays, fixes his wounds and listens to his story. The next day she helps solve the mystery of the ghosts death and saves the day! I thought it was a very unusual ghost story and really fun to draw.

by Sojung Kim-McCarthy (@creativesojung)
Baridegi: Abandoned Princess A king had 6 daughters and no son. When his 7th baby turned out to be another girl, the king got so mad he threw out the newborn baby. Baridegi(Thrown-away Thing) was raised by an old woman without knowing her identity. As she walked into her father’s castle, Bari met the king’s funeral procession. She touched his dead body with the flowers and moistened his lips with the elixir. The king came back to life & Bari became the goddess of the underworld to guide the dead.

Some late entries worth seeing:

RITUAL

by elitsa nedyalkova (@elitsa_nn)

(original story - text above) This is taking place on the day of St Lazarus, the Saturday before Palm Sunday (in the week before Easter). Maidens wear wreaths or crowns of flowers and willow (though willow is mostly used on Palm Sunday, known as Flower Day in Bulgaria) and sing, almost a form of caroling. Like Christmas caroling, they visit people's houses for good luck and sing a song dedicated to each family member with wishes specifically aimed at them and their (expected) role in society and the family. Girls will also weave separate wreaths of flowers and float them in a river, having a sort of race. The winner can expect to be the first to marry that year. Some say that a girl who hasn't celebrated the day of St Lazarus can/should not marry. I don't know if there's any folk belief associated with a sinking wreath (I'm assuming it's not particularly uncommon), so that's just me doing my own thing with it.

COURTSHIP

by Joy+Noelle
Day 3 ~ Courtship. “Not again,” Rusalka muttered to herself. It seemed every time she fancied someone, they ended up drowned. Another 3 months of courting wasted as her garden of expired boyfriends grew ever larger. -- In Slavic folklore, a Rusalka is the spirit of a woman who drowned, either accidentally or on purpose. She enchants foolish men, luring them to their watery graves. We played with the idea that she’s still getting used to this new power.

by Marta Dorado (@martadorado)

(4/7 of an original story) COURTSHIP: …When the princess reached the age of marriage, rejected as she was and feared by all, the adviser began to woo her. "I am her only suitor, she can't reject me. When I marry her, I will finally become king and I will lock my queen in a cage!" But to his surprise, the princess dismissed his courtship over, and over and over again, until he could no longer bear the humiliation…

SOLSTICE

by 

Emily Ursä

@emilyursa_
I decided to illustrate something a bit closer to home this time, with an old Portuguese tradition - 
It is said that on St John's eve - the summer solstice, water has great healing powers.
Just before dawn, children and cattle were sent out to bathe in rivers and dew to ensure
good health and strength.

#FolktaleWeek2020 - Day 4 Picks: Solstice

by Amy June Bates (@amyjunebates)
I love folktales. -- I love the feeling I get when I read or hear a good one. The spine tingle of familiarity. Somehow our bones remember the old stories long after our minds have forgotten. At some time these stories were our truths.

 The fourth prompt

(from Thursday - so we're slightly behind here)

was SOLSTICE.

by Sojung Kim-McCarthy
A tiger tried to eat a granny working on a field of red beans. The granny begged him to wait until the winter solstice when she would have harvested the red beans and made soup out of them. So the tiger came to tea on the solstice day! -- The tiger went into granny’s kitchen. As he tried to taste the red bean soup, baked chestnuts popped out from the furnace and burned the tiger’s eyes. He put his head into the water bucket to cool down his eyes, and a turtle bit the tiger’s nose. -- Retreating from the bucket, the tiger stepped on cow dung and slipped. Then a punch poked his bumhole! The tiger took a big fright from all these attacks and tried to run out of the kitchen. One last blow came from a grinding stone that jumped and fell onto the tiger’s head. -- A mat wrapped the tiger who passed out, and a timber carrier took him down to the river and threw the tiger away. Then the granny, chestnuts, turtle, cow dung, punch, mat and timber carrier had a red bean soup party! 

by milanka_reardon
(from an ongoing story) Solstice - Although this year, the winter solstice did not turn out to be a day of celebration, the birth of this mystical creature gave a ray of hope to bears everywhere! But how can a tiny dragonbunny save them from this? 

by Silvia Vanni (@fantafumino)
The San Giovanni night closes the celebrations of the summer solstice. On this night, witches gather to harvest nuts and prepare nocino (a liqueur made with nuts).

by Karlan Tam (@karlen_tam)

The Cypress Tree Fairy (see text above for story)

by Camille Witcher (@milly_of_bunston)

by Laura Chamberlain Illustration

You would think that on the longest day of the year, the residents of the town would spend the day outside. Instead, the day is spent indoors, so as not to disturb the mothers of the mountains who wake just once a year to sunbathe and catch up about the year. -- It is thought that this belief came about following a landslide one solstice and the theft of an entire seasons' worth of wine from a local vineyard which was later found empty in a valley.

by Ofride's Garden

"Solstice" - "The masked creature introduced himself to Sofia, informing her that the letter and the flowers were destined for Marchesa. One of the gods of his land, s'Urzu, had fallen in love with her and had decided to declare his feelings. Sophia, displeased, said that Marchesa gifted her powers over to her, and that she had decided to end her life, having taught her all about her magic. -- Boes, the masked creature, was very worried, but still decided to inform his god about the fate of his beloved Masca. Thus, they both went to a sacred place, struck by the sunlight. The god, there, manifested itself in the form of a silhouette of light, shaped like a bull's head. Boes and Sofia, desolate, informed s'Urzu of the fate of the Marchesa. -- In the end, the divinity only speaks these words - if she has decided to leave this world, I will follow her too.-" -- In Sardinia there are ancient megalithic edifices called nuraghi. On the day of the winter solstice, inside the nuraghe of Villanova Truschedu, the sun rays, entering through the window of the nuraghe, form a bull's head on the wall of the nuraghe itself. The bull was probably considered a divinity by those peoples of the past.

by Tanja Stephanie (@tanja_stephanie)
On that special day, the princess’s imagination grows into a big tree. - At this time awakening all of their little fantasy creatures and give the world magical stories.

by Debra Styer (@debrastyer)
For today's illustration, I was inspired by the Inuit folktale, "The Raven Steals the Sun". It is the story of the Raven who was sick of living in the darkness. He finds that a old man is the keeper of the light (sun). He disguised himself as a baby, grows into a nice trustful boy and when no one suspects he steals the sun, turns back to a Raven and flies away with the sun making the first Day.

by Laure Allain (@laure_illustrations)
day 4: solstice - The previous winter had been terrible. Thumbelina had nowhere to go and was always freezing. She tried to cover herself in leaves and made an acorn hat, but it didn’t help much against the bitter cold. Anything was better than going through that again, even marrying the mole. Another poor creature, a lonely swallow had missed the call of the south.

by Marta Dorado (@martadorado)
(from an ongoing original story) …At first, no one noticed the curse; however, come the winter solstice, the little princess suddenly transformed into a terrifying beast before the horrified eyes of the entire court! For years, her parents tried everything to heal their daughter, but nothing ever worked, and what worried them the most was that the princess didn't seem to be bothered! People were wild-eyed of her and her feral ways, and as the princess grew up, she also grew more and more lonely…

by Kristina Kister (@nichtlicht)
Solstice - Sending your wishes out and hoping for the best. Also creepy ghosts just for the sake of it.

by @mandyhiggsart
Day 4: SOLSTICE #folktaleweek2020 - Inspired by Greek Mythology & the story of the rise of Persephone from her time with Hades.

by Johanna Lohrengel (@the.dreamers.front)
A Sámi tale of hope and community. - There used to be a land that was called the Land of Darkness as the sun never rose. The hut dwellers of the land were cold, scared and sad. There was one place however, on the top of a steep mountain, where a tribe of shadow beings lived in a comfortable log house, hoarded reindeers and had more at hand than they needed. - One day a tall man appeared riding on a reindeer and told them that out there was light, a big ball called the Sun, and that he could lead the way to that place. The hut dwellers did not believe him and chased him away. - There was only one boy among the villagers who believed the stranger and who kept thinking that maybe indeed there was a sun to be found out there. One day he said: "How can I find the sun?", and a reindeer appeared in front of him and took him to the tall stranger. That man told him that he would need to collect one hair from each of the villagers and weave a basket from them to fetch a piece of the sun. Upon returning the hut dwellers trusted the boy and so it was done. With the help of the reindeer he fetched a piece of the sun after a long journey and brought it back to his people. - Just imagine how it must have felt for the to see the light for the first time! But so did the shadow people and came running from their mountain to steel the basket full of sun. - Everyone defended the boy and a great battle began. But just in that moment the sun started to leak from the basket and such a warmth and light started to appear that the shadow people vanished. - The hearts of the villagers then open up to the sun and the boy told them to ask the reindeers of the shadow beings to bring them to the big sun. The reindeers agreed and took them on their backs to the sun and when they saw it a ray of sunshine crawled into their open hearts. They were now filled with light and strength for a new beginning.

by Trudi Murray (@trudi_murray)
Today’s word is SOLSTICE, and my Shakespeare book cover is, of course, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
- It’s strange to think of it in these darkened, short Winter days, when getting out for a walk must be done well before 4pm. The longest day of the year does seem a world away: Summer dresses and long grass and a cold glass of white wine among the flowers... ah. One day. Maybe when we get there, in 2021, we will find players making mischief, fairies falling in love with the wrong people, and unwitting humans making an ass of themselves. - Maybe we will, maybe we won’t! The sweet joys and loves of high Summer are - maybe - all but a dream.

by Imogen (@imogenfoxell)
Winter #solstice for #folktaleweek2020. The time when old Mother Holle makes it snow by shaking out her feather bedclothes.

Additional late entries for Day 3: COURTSHIP

by Freya Hartas (@freyaHartas)
The White Cat (a French fairy tale) - 'In a few moments the door was opened yet he perceived nothing but twelve hands in the air, each holding a torch. The most melodious voice he had ever heard sang the words ' Welcome, Prince, no danger fear, mirth and love attend you here; You shall break the magic spell, that on a beauteous lady fell' He was then beckoned through a door of coral, which opened of itself onto a splendid apartment built of mother of pearl, he imagined he must be in an enchanted palace. His attention was suddenly caught by a small figure not a foot high which had on a long black veil and was supported by two cats dressed in mourning with swords by their sides. They were followed by a numerous retinue of cats, some carrying cages full of rats and squirming mice. The little figure now approached, and threw aside her veil. He beheld a most beautiful white cat.' -- I feel like my drawing and short Instagram caption doesn't do this beautiful fairy tale justice so you must research it yourself! It begins with three princes who are sent on a mission to bring their father the King three gifts, the son who brings the best gifts will inherit the crown. The youngest prince stumbles across a beautiful enchanted palace owned by a beautiful white cat, who of course is actually a princess under a spell. The nicest thing about this story is that the cat (or princess) is portrayed as a kind and highly intelligent character, she and the prince discuss politics over dinner, and the prince respects her immensely (not just as a trophy, as often is the way in fairy tales) She also rides a magic yellow monkey at one point which is just pretty cool imo! 

by @daryamorozz
“...The Dzhigit ordered to build a yurt and settled in it with a white she-wolf. During the day she lay at the entrance, and as soon as evening came and the fire was extinguished, the she-wolf turned into a girl and with her extraordinary beauty illuminated the yurt. --Dzhigit spent all the time with his wife. He rarely appeared in public. Soon the neighbors began to laugh at him. - Look, he married a wolf. Now he himself has turned into a beast. -- And when the Dzhigit came out of the yurt, they shouted after him: - Hey, wolf’s husband! - Hello, wolf’s husband! -- It was hard for the Dzhigit to listen to the ridicule of people. He completely stopped leaving the yurt. Finally he could not stand it — on the thirty-seventh night, as soon as his wife threw off the wolf's skin, he tore it apart and threw it into the fire. The wife got scared and says: - Well, now you will be suffering. You broke your promise. -- You did not wait for the forty days bequeathed by my mother...” -- An excerpt from the Kazakh fairy tale "Dzhigit and She-wolf"