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Hi there Reader, Back before the Wayward Cottage, in the days of the wayside carriage house, there were many a night where I found that I could not sleep. Perhaps it was the wind that whistled through a door in the bedroom that opened, inexplicably, out onto the roof. Maybe it was the moonlight that would peek in through that door. Either way, there were plenty of sleepless nights. And so I donned an vintage nightgown, wandered downstairs, and take eerie self portraits. Like one does, apparently. There was only one problem. (Ok, there were many in that old house.) But in this particular case giant wolf spiders were often found on the first floor, given that there was no basement for them to appropriately congregate in. And on one of these nights a particularly large spider skittered across the floor upon seeing me wander down, only to take cover under the sofa. Does appropriate shivery ick dance. This would not be the first or the last of these arachnid encounters. In fact, my husband and I encountered them enough over the years we lived there that we simply named all of the spiders Molgrath. It has been many years since we have had such creepy crawly visitors - thank goodness. But Molgrath has stayed with me in more ways than one. No - we did not adopt a spider and bring it on our move. But these days, in the late hours of the night, instead of taking eerie barefoot portraits, I am drafting a novel when the rest of the household is deep in slumber. And along the way I discovered that what the story needs is a spider. A Spider of Unusual Size. And I've lovingly named her - you guessed it - Molgrath. So now I give her to you. Molgrath. Or whatever name befits a spider of unusual size in your own creative practice. Here. Take this. (Or, you know…don’t. 🤷♀️) See what you make with it. If you’d like the next Lantern delivered to you, you can join me here.
Happy wandering, Jen |
Occasional dispatches from an artist and writer about making things, noticing things, and following strange threads through art, story, landscape, and the creative life. Sometimes I'll leave you an image to carry away.
Hi there Reader, Come take a walk with me today, a ways down the road from the Wayward Cottage.There’s an old abandoned property there, slowly being reclaimed by the woods. Years ago, when the place was still inhabited, an artist installed a piano beneath towering trees. Above it hung a chandelier of illuminated glass orbs. Inside the piano he placed a speaker, and for a single day it seemed as though the piano itself were playing a haunting sonata. And then everyone left. The doors were...
Hi there Reader, Welcome, come inside the Wayward Cottage today. Well, as it once was fifteen years ago. We had to enter through the basement, go up the basement stairs, and break through a wall that once was a door when we first arrived. But luckily, the front door is usable now. Her bark is worse than her bite. Promise. Come, let’s meander upstairs. I want to show you something. It’s a beautiful clawfoot tub, mostly hidden behind faux brick paneling. I’m not sure why it was tucked away like...
Hi there Reader, Today I'm taking you up into the woods. There are no paths there that the deer haven't made. Instead there are ridges and rock formations, an abandoned house, traces of a forgotten road, and eventually, a swamp. I've spent over 15 years wandering and photographing these woods - occasionally being lucky enough to find a morel mushroom or two for dinner. The woods themselves feel full of history and stories, waiting to be discovered. One fall afternoon in 2013 I found a rickety...