Faerie Tales Retold (Thumbelina)

As our children grow up listening to classic stories and fairy tales, they're often curious about why the stories usually feature helpless girls who depend on a prince charming to save the day. This series is an attempt at re-telling those tales to feature strong female leads. THE LADY OF THE FOREST The Evernight is coming. As sure as the wind blows cold, the Evernight advances on our land. And so, she sends them to me. The Weaver to Dreams sends me every soul seeking passage and refuge from the dark of the Evernight. So to one I gave the gift of Time, to ride where it would lead her. To another, magic to defeat tyrants, she still calls on me through her Mirror. To a third I taught, the art of the axe, to pair with her wolf-eyed nature; and these are but, a few of the souls I've guided and helped crossover. For though my stature maybe tiny - smaller than a thumb - my power is a force colossal. I am one of few, the Lady of the Forest, I prepare them for the Evernight's arrival.

As our children grow up listening to classic stories and fairy tales, they're often curious about why the stories usually feature helpless girls who depend on a prince charming to save the day. This series is an attempt at re-telling those tales to feature strong female leads.

THE LADY OF THE FOREST

The Evernight is coming. As sure as the wind blows cold, the Evernight advances on our land. And so, she sends them to me. The Weaver to Dreams sends me every soul seeking passage and refuge from the dark of the Evernight. So to one I gave the gift of Time, to ride where it would lead her. To another, magic to defeat tyrants, she still calls on me through her Mirror. To a third I taught, the art of the axe, to pair with her wolf-eyed nature; and these are but, a few of the souls I've guided and helped crossover. For though my stature maybe tiny - smaller than a thumb - my power is a force colossal. I am one of few, the Lady of the Forest, I prepare them for the Evernight's arrival.

Faerie Tales Retold (Cinderella)

As our children grow up listening to classic stories and fairy tales, they're often curious about why the stories usually feature helpless girls who depend on a prince charming to save the day. This series is an attempt at re-telling those tales to feature strong female leads. AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT I am a traveller, a vagabond, a wanderer. I have stories to tell, of worlds I have seen, that will stretch your imagination beyond the wildest of dreams. Of door mice and pumpkins as large as an ox, of palaces, of princes, and even of a slipper I once lost. But my travels are treacherous, my destinations unknown, for Time is my coachman, his sudden appearance beyond my control. You see, I am trapped in a temporal whirl, and as the clock strikes midnight, I could be off to another world. And so I make the most of every day in each land, for after all I’m just a plaything in Fortune’s hand. Visuals for this image inspired by the surreal work of Brooke Shaden .

As our children grow up listening to classic stories and fairy tales, they're often curious about why the stories usually feature helpless girls who depend on a prince charming to save the day. This series is an attempt at re-telling those tales to feature strong female leads.

AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT

I am a traveller, a vagabond, a wanderer. I have stories to tell, of worlds I have seen, that will stretch your imagination beyond the wildest of dreams. Of door mice and pumpkins as large as an ox, of palaces, of princes, and even of a slipper I once lost. But my travels are treacherous, my destinations unknown, for Time is my coachman, his sudden appearance beyond my control. You see, I am trapped in a temporal whirl, and as the clock strikes midnight, I could be off to another world. And so I make the most of every day in each land, for after all I’m just a plaything in Fortune’s hand.

Visuals for this image inspired by the surreal work of Brooke Shaden.

Faerie Tales Retold (Snow White)

As our children grow up listening to classic stories and fairy tales, they're often curious about why the stories usually feature helpless girls who depend on a prince charming to save the day. This series is an attempt at re-telling those tales to feature strong female leads. MIRROR, MIRROR I was to be queen, the throne was rightfully mine. Until the king and his court cast me out as a child, afraid of the power growing within me. A power he could not possess, could not control. I wandered lost for weeks, and just at the edge of despair, the lady of the forest took me under her care. She taught me control, how to mould my power. To quieten a storm, tame a fire, and even make it snow in summer. Soon I was ready, to take back my throne, but seven tasks lay ahead, before I was home. So, seven kingdoms did I liberate, seven kingdoms of old, each ruled by a tyrant whose power was dwarfed by my own. But great power can sometimes take a toll, and we all need a reminder, sometimes big, sometimes small. So one final thing she taught me, before the lady of the forest let me go. And that is why anytime I need counsel, I need only call, to that “Mirror, mirror, on the wall”.

As our children grow up listening to classic stories and fairy tales, they're often curious about why the stories usually feature helpless girls who depend on a prince charming to save the day. This series is an attempt at re-telling those tales to feature strong female leads.

MIRROR, MIRROR

I was to be queen, the throne was rightfully mine. Until the king and his court cast me out as a child, afraid of the power growing within me. A power he could not possess, could not control. I wandered lost for weeks, and just at the edge of despair, the lady of the forest took me under her care. She taught me control, how to mould my power. To quieten a storm, tame a fire, and even make it snow in summer. Soon I was ready, to take back my throne, but seven tasks lay ahead, before I was home. So, seven kingdoms did I liberate, seven kingdoms of old, each ruled by a tyrant whose power was dwarfed by my own. But great power can sometimes take a toll, and we all need a reminder, sometimes big, sometimes small. So one final thing she taught me, before the lady of the forest let me go. And that is why anytime I need counsel, I need only call, to that “Mirror, mirror, on the wall”.

Faerie Tales Retold (Red Riding Hood)

As our children grow up listening to classic stories and fairy tales, they're often curious about why the stories usually feature helpless girls who depend on a prince charming to save the day. This series is an attempt at re-telling those tales to feature strong female leads. THE GIRL WITH THE WOLF EYES They call me Red Riding Hood. I had another name though, before my story was twisted. Before you heard the tales of a little girl, who needed rescuing from wild wolves by brave woodsmen. How quickly that lie spread. Far and wide, of a wolf stalking a helpless child. Of a woodsman saving the day, brave and kind. They feared the truth, knowing it would mean what it did. That a lone girl could protect her own; red hood on her back, her trusty axe in her hand. Woodsman! How lies have fed your fame. How dare they make you the hero, when you were the one to blame. Oh, there were wolves and axes alright, but the details are all confused. The axe was mine, the bravery was mine. You see, before I was known as Red Riding Hood, they called me the girl with the wolf eyes.

As our children grow up listening to classic stories and fairy tales, they're often curious about why the stories usually feature helpless girls who depend on a prince charming to save the day. This series is an attempt at re-telling those tales to feature strong female leads.

THE GIRL WITH THE WOLF EYES

They call me Red Riding Hood. I had another name though, before my story was twisted. Before you heard the tales of a little girl, who needed rescuing from wild wolves by brave woodsmen. How quickly that lie spread. Far and wide, of a wolf stalking a helpless child. Of a woodsman saving the day, brave and kind. They feared the truth, knowing it would mean what it did. That a lone girl could protect her own; red hood on her back, her trusty axe in her hand. Woodsman! How lies have fed your fame. How dare they make you the hero, when you were the one to blame. Oh, there were wolves and axes alright, but the details are all confused. The axe was mine, the bravery was mine. You see, before I was known as Red Riding Hood, they called me the girl with the wolf eyes.