FantasyTee

Lucy Westenra themed product

All the things she said, running through my head - this is not enough - Tatu's rousing rock number

What do you do when all the things she said are running through your head?

Turning the pages of that vast grimoire of the dead, I walked then as if in dark dreams until I came to the distant shores of madness, R'lyeh, where dead Cthulhu lies dreaming, I fear, I sacrificed all vestiges of sanity, for man is not meant to drink of such absolute truths.

My name is Spartacus inspired homage to Jack Smith, just so he knows that we all stand with him or our democracy ends.

Jack Smith is fighting for your democracy, all you need to do is vote.

Parody on the ''Animal Farm' slogan applied to the GOP sense of immunity from the law

Scary product out in time for Halloween. Tic-toc, Jack is coming... and Fani.... and Stormy....

Ever go into a dark place and get slightly lost and turn and find you are facing twin terrors? Less cheese before bed maybe?!

Because some days you just "do boo be don't"

High priestess stained glass design in eye catching colours and gnostically inspired design

It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train—a shapeless congeries of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor that it and its kind had swept so evilly free of all litter. — H. P. Lovecraft, At the Mountains of Madness

esther yu,love yu

Strength

Sublime natural beauty

Get some old style fairy mischief in your life!

Calm on the outside but boiling on the inside?

The Vampire, everyone's favourite creature of the night and 'big bad'.

The Bard, the swiss army knife of character classes.

Dedicated to the unique creativity of an artist that changed music forever, pushing the envelope until she was unsurpassed, starting with Wuthering Heights with a unique voice and style to match, and progressing through a powerful catalogue of beautiful and challenging music whilst trail blazing a niche that many have tried to emulate but none have equalled.

The light of lothlorien

Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), author and poet, remembered in a series of images. Plath was great not for her darkness but for the strength of her imagery. I commend the following masterpieces for your consideration; - Lady Lazarus, Daddy, The Moon and the Yew Tree, Ariel, Poppies in October, You're, Ariel, Edge, Walking in Winter and in prose The Bell Jar.

Inspired by Wuthering Height's doomed lover Cathy.

Spiral field of sunny sunflowers design to brighten your day, your mood, your life, though reflecting the on the start of the spiral into madness for Vincent Van Gogh and with central tribute piece to the great master and tortured soul himself.

Once there was a reader who sat in a lonely place, pooled over a book reading, turning the page she was astonished to see the sentence; - "Once there was a reader who sat in a lonely place, pooled over a book reading" - not wanting to repeat the pattern she skipped ahead a page and read then "Later that day the police were called to investigate the mystery of her disappearance" - and then she panicked, but it was too late, the strong currents of fiction were already dragging her into the book where she would live a life of a kind in prose, forever.

Commerating TS Elliots epic modernist poem - The Wasteland - with this haunting take on the stanza that references Dante's inferno, featuring London Bridge.

“Go out in the early days of winter, after the first cold snap of the season. Find a pool of water with a sheet of ice across the top, still fresh and new and clear as glass. Near the shore the ice will hold you. Slide out farther. Farther. Eventually you'll find the place where the surface just barely bears your weight. There you will feel what I felt. The ice splinters under your feet. Look down and you can see the white cracks darting through the ice like mad, elaborate spiderwebs. It is perfectly silent, but you can feel the sudden sharp vibrations through the bottoms of your feet. That is what happened when Denna smiled at me.I don't mean to imply I felt as if I stood on brittle ice about to give way beneath me. No. I felt it.

Collage featuring the ladies from russian pop

The joy, discipline and beauty of ballet.

London BY WILLIAM BLAKE I wander thro' each charter'd street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow. And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infants cry of fear, In every voice: in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear How the Chimney-sweepers cry Every blackning Church appalls, And the hapless Soldiers sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlots curse Blasts the new-born Infants tear And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse

Angel

Earth Ritual

The action has happened, the hero is triumphant, they walk off to a rousing tune with explosions still going off in the background, covered only in a sheen of sweat, designer injuries to emphasise their cheek bones and if they are a woman highly impractical bodily coverage.

Outside the ordered universe is that amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity — the boundless daemon sultan Azathoth, whose name no lips dare speak aloud, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond time and space amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile drums and the thin monotonous whine of accursed flutes.

The elder gods return, inspired by the short story Pickman's Model, where an artist paints things that are not of this world, this is my humble attempt to hint at existential horrors. Best hope that I did not do it too well...

High Druidess of the Earth Mother