Finally an update of the Tell me a story project!
(for the few people who are following this project here on EF ;-) )

ABOUT THE PROJECT:
For those who are not familiar with the Tell me a story project yet: the project's goal is to collect fascinating, known and unknown, folk-tales from all over the world. Illustrate them and share them.
Instead of just taking stories from books, the aim is to 'collect' these stories directly from the source, the people; you. Isabella Baudelaire (that's me), a 24 year old Dutch artist who specializes in portraying folklore, myths and legends, will illustrate these wonderful stories. Eventually all these illustrations combined, of course accompanied by the original stories and background information will be published as a book.

For more information on the project, and how to participate, please check out my previous blogpost HERE.

THE FINAL DEADLINE:
The submission deadline is slowly aproaching.... Those who still wish to submit their story, please be quick because the final deadline is set on March 14th, 2010.
If you would like to submit your story but you are not able to make this deadline, don't worry, just send me a message so I will know and you can submit your story a little later. But please do send a message beforehand!

A SHOP:
In the course of this week prints of the illustrations will become available at my website! These prints are a limited edition of twenty and are sold for 13 dollars each (including shipping). Every third print is for free.
If you like to have a print you can also send me a message here, on my blog and I will contact you. (please note, I can only accept payments outside of Europe through paypal).

And finally........ THE GIVE-AWAY CONTEST!!!
Because I have reached the halfway-point in the project, I thought it is time to celebrate this little "victory". And thus I will be giving away 5 sets of prints. These sets will contain six small prints of illustrations made for the Tell me a Story project. Best of all you are allowed to pick your own six favorite prints! Here is a link to the illustrations you can choose from: LINK
In the course of next week more will be added to this gallery, so perhaps wait a while before making your pick. To participate just leave a comment on the bottom of this page and tell me how to contact you, by giving me your email address or a link to your own blog. I will then, Friday-night (CET), March 5th randomly pick out five names and contact the winners. GOOD LUCK!

The following tale is of the kind I like the most. It is not from a book and neither is it a story one has heard once from a friend of a friend. No, it is a story Brett Williamson (better known as Phantom Angel here on EF) heard from his own grandmother and she heard it from her father, who ensured her it was all true. After all he had a scar as proof.....

NOTE: would you also like to see your story get illustrated? please check out my previous blog post here and read the guidelines.

Story Title: The Skogsra
Submitted by: Brett Williamson
Country: Corona, CA

The following story was send to me along with some touching words. Iulia told me how much the following myth meant to her as it was one of those tales she was raised with. She also shared her "concerns" as she noticed how the stories of her people are less and less well known among the younger generations.

Unfortunately this is not only true in Romania. It is a shame. But we must recognize our oral heritage is declining, and worst of all we are responsible for it ourselves.

I do not want to sound overly pessimistic but I am often disappointed in the lack of interest people have in their own culture. On the other hand I am also often pleasantly surprised to see how a myth survives in modern times. And this, luckily, happens often as well.

Like Marie, who submitted the story of the Breton Ankou, Iulia did not wanted me to give her credit for the story as she said the story did not belong to her but to her people. It is always very touching to hear these words, because this is the true nature of folk tales. It is not the voice of one person but those of an entire people. And as long I am hearing these words I am not at all that concerned, because I know there are people out there knowing the true meaning of the words.....

NOTE: would you also like to see your story get illustrated? please check out my previous blog post here and read the guidelines.

Story Title: The Iele
Submitted by: From the Romanian people
Country: Romania

Not so long ago, living anywhere in the countryside, you could often hear words such as “Oh dear, such a pity of this boy! He must have been charmed by the Iele”.
Ielele are often described as very beautiful girls with charming powers, extremely talented dancers (usually in groups of three, seven or twelve), and living in nice and isolated places; small flowering meadows, in the forests or sometimes at abandoned crossroads or homes. The life in the forests gives them all they need; feeding themselves with the fruits and herbs and drinking clear water from the cold mountain springs.

Some say they are protectors of nature and their place of living is a sacred one, others say they are just mischievous spirits, taking revenge on people for having seen them or interrupting their ritual.

One thing is for sure, they do like dancing and singing! The beautiful girls have twinkling bells on their ankles and go dancing in the forests at night, when the moon is high. Their dance is light; some even say they dance in the air, flying. Oh, and when they dance…they do dance charmingly, with yellow flowers in their hair, holding hands in a fast hora (a very fast traditional circle dance from the Carpathian – Balkan region, encountered mostly in Romania and Bulgaria). Many say that where they have danced, next morning, you can see the burned ground and grass in the form of a circle. In this place, there will hardly be any vegetation growing again and if it grows, no animal would want to eat it.

Many legends in many different regions in Romania speak about young boys and men who have been caught spying on them. The Ielele took their revenge by charming, seducing and taking their minds away (making them crazy). If you hear them singing you will turn deaf, and if you answer to them when they call your name, you will lose your voice. This is the punishment a human receives when interfering with the natural course of a sacred ritual performed by the Iele.

There are many folk songs, poems and “zicatori” (popular sayings) about common people’s encounters with these beings, some good, some bad, some as the people’s heart.

(* grammar note: “Iele” – always used in plural. There is no singular term, since they are always seen as a small collectivity. “Ielele” is the articulated form.)

Here is Bryan's tale. I hope all of you will enjoy it and if you haven't already, check out their podcast. You will love it!

NOTE: would you also like to see your story get illustrated? please check out my previous blog post here and read the guidelines.

The following story was presented to me as a ballad. Although I do not want to fill the entire book with ballads or poems I am glad to make an exception for this one as it is so true to the original story.
This ballad reflects the style of old, a ballad sung at the hearth. And thus this one is more then perfect for a folk-tale book, as you have to keep in mind; these stories were passed on as music and poems as well.

The ballad's writer; Kiera Tauro first heard of this story in the beautiful Irish film; the Secret of Roan Inish. Kiera herself is from Canada but her mother hails from Ireland and as she grew up with many a story from her mother's motherland the story of the Selkie was one to return now and then. Perhaps even more then the other tales this one was often on her mind. "I had wanted to try my hand at writing a version of the myth for ages," Kiera told me "and when I had to write a ballad for a creative writing class at school this was the first thing that came to mind". And thus she transcribed it into this ballad which I hope all of you will enjoy.

NOTE: would you also like to see your story get illustrated? please check out my previous blog post here and read the guidelines.

Story Title: The Selkie
Submitted by: Kiera Tauro
Country: Canada

Walking on an island, on a day both bright and clear
He spied a creature on the rocks and quickly wandered near.
The seal had not yet seen him and he saw it shed its skin
And like butterflies from the cocoon, a lady stood within.

The skin it lay abandoned like yesterday’s disguise,
And careful not to startle he stood and met her eyes –
As black as the ocean and as wild as the sea,
Full of wonder, like a curious child she gazed back at me.

A whisper brought him closer and a touch to her side
Their voices rose and fell, matching the pounding of the tide.
Conversation faded and love grew in its place,
She said “I must go,” with a smile upon her face.

“I will meet you on the morrow, but to the sea I must go.”
And skin in hand, the lady left for the water down below.
He came back every morning and she left him every night,
But soon he had an idea that would keep her in his sight.

Reluctant to consider it, but more to see her leave
The skin would be stolen, was the plan he would weave.
“For without the skin she could not go back to the sea,
And thus would be content to stay ashore with me.”

And so one day while she slept, her head against his chest
He slipped out from beneath her and stole it from her breast.
Carefully it was hidden and he was back afore she woke,
But soon her eyes had opened and softly she spoke:

“My skin you have stolen, and the sea that was my life,
I am damned to live on land, and this can only lead to strife.”
The days seemed to last forever, and she wandered as if lost,
But she vowed to find her skin, no matter what the cost.

Long she searched to no avail and soon she gave up hope,
For without the comfort of the waves she found she could not cope.
Little more than a shadow she sat above the tide,
Watching the place once called home as quietly she cried.

Her silence did not please him and he loved her less each day,
His beautiful wild selkie girl had begun to fade away.
Not a word was spoken but still she seemed to plead
For the skin long since taken, for his avarice to recede.

And though he loved her less, he refused to let her go,
For she was his and did not belong to the sea down below.
The seasons kept on changing, and all fondness seemed to fade,
When the lady heard a whisper coming from the glade,

The forest spirit had seen her and noticed her distress,
And knew that to make her smile, her skin she must possess.
So he had searched and he had found the skin that she had worn,
And presenting it to her, he saw that she did no longer mourn.

Eyes aglow, a whispered thanks, and quickly she did go,
As she often did in dreams, to the sea down below.
Never thinking to return and never looking back,
She slipped between the waves into water deep and black.

It wasn’t until she was gone that he finally he saw,
As wonderful as it had seemed, his plan possessed a flaw.
He had loved her because she was beautiful and because she was free,
But the only lover that she could know was the loveless sea.


More of Kiera's poems and photographs can be found on Deviant Art.
Also, you can read more about the  Selkie here.