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Elle Wonders

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A Map of My Existence

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I am happy to announce that my first poetry collection has been published! Ten years of poems, finally out in the world! It’s all quite personal, and I hesitated to include some of the poems, but in the end, they all belong on the map of my existence.

The book was just released, and I would really love for you all to order a copy and let me know what you think! Just click on the cover to order.

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Little Hollows Beckon

A synopsis of my novel-in-progress:

After spending years rebuilding her life, things are finally moving forward again for Willa Hawthorne. With a successful gallery exhibit behind her and a second collection underway, she’s making a name for herself in the art world. But after she becomes engaged to her handsome attorney, Evan Mercer, Willa finds she’s unable to let go of Jamieson Corbin.

With an uncanny sense of timing, Jamieson returns and pushes his way back into Willa’s life. His reappearance threatens her relationship with Evan, but it also challenges her sanity because there’s an impossible catch: Jamieson has been dead for three years.

From a small idyllic town in Rhode Island to a remote hamlet in the Highlands of Scotland, Willa embarks on a provocative journey of love and betrayal with an unexpected ally. When the two of them discover long-hidden secrets of Corbin Family folklore, they are beckoned to a place where light and darkness intersect, and spiritual boundaries are redrawn. After unearthing painful truths from the past, Willa must reexamine everything she believes about life and death and find a passage that connects the two worlds.

Reading of From the Beehive

Reading of Sauveour

Reading of The Albatross

Reading of Swell

Reading of Spare Time

Lionsteeth

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Lionsteeth by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 8×10.

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

The Middlemost Winter

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The Middlemost Winter by Elle Wonders

 

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 11×14.

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

Wrath of Saint Flannon

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Wrath of Saint Flannon by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Stretched canvas. 11×14.

©Elle Wonders 2017

Blink

blink
Blink by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 12×12.

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

The Midlands

1001 (2)
The Midlands by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 11×14.

©Elle Wonders 2017

 

The Kelpie of River Spey

horse
The Kelpie of River Speyer by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 11×14.

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

Bird’s Eye

 

Bird's Eye
Bird’s Eye by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 12×12

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

Many Moons Ago

lantern 1
Many Moons Ago by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Gallery wrapped canvas. 18×24

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

Après la Danse

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Après la Danse by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 16×20

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

 

A Dot Without Memory

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A Dot Without Memory by Elle Wonders

 

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 16×20

©Elle Wonders 2017

This Is Only A Test

1103 (2)
This Is Only A Test by Elle Wonder

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 11×14.

©Elle Wonders 2017

Radiohead

1016 (2)
Radiohead by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 11×14.

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

The Timekeeper

1006 (2)
The Timekeeper by Elle Wonders

Acrylic. Canvas panel. 11×14.

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

La Limoncella

lalimoncella

La Limoncella by Elle Wonders
Acrylics. Canvas panel. 12×12

 

 

©Elle Wonders 2017

The Path of the Ladybird

ladybird clear - Copy
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas

A ladybird lands

In Constantinople

Cover Design Mockup for Travel Memoir

cover-6

Hollow Tree at Lanhydrock

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Photo by Peter Levers

When I think of little hollows, I think of a hollow in a tree or in a thicket of brush. I think of the slight concave area just above a hip or collar bone. The dip at the top of a man’s shoulder or the soft depression at the top of a woman’s inner thigh. But I also think of the hollow places we all have inside us that most will never see. Those small voids that become full when we experience extraordinary love and connection. These are the hollows that draw us in and make us seek ways to fit together.

This stunning photo by photographer Peter Levers captures the mood of my novel incredibly well.

Ode to a Corbie

Ode to a Corbie copyright
Photo of E. Wonders by E. Andreas  –  Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

Ode to a Corbie

 

Swift an’ black, wi’ feaithers sleek

He looms atop th’ branches.

Wi’ time, an’ tide, an’ moors sae bleak

His battered sool, entrances.

 

Mirk ushers in, oan corbie wings

Deid silence. Ah wait an’ listen.

Fur th’ lest c-r-r-r-ruuuck! tae me, he sings

Passion stirs, an’ mah een, they glisten.

 

A yearnin’ quaver, rises up frae th’ glens

Roosed by his calls, his tooch, an’ his need.

Frae his swellin’ soonds, a’m oan edge, he kens

Fur his keen, whetted glances, Ah heed.

 

When love’s een close, nae glancin’ back

Yit charms an’ spells sometimes daur.

With his unearthly grasp, Ah shaa ne’er lack

Each other’s longings an’ vices, we baur.

 

Th’ sharp, duple pitch, shaa ne’er be far

Fur oor wayward ambition, lies a nether.

Mooths against skin, mak’ e’erlastin’ scars

Stronger than time, is oor tether.

Tho ne’er was he, a raven pure an’ reit,

Forever blows th’ win’ thru mah bones.

A new wicked yearnin’ micht willin’ tak’ flight

Upon th’ day, his black heart, atones.

 

© Elle Wonders – 2016

 


 

Ode to a Corbie (English Translation)

 

Swift and black, with feathers sleek

He looms, atop the branches.

With time, and tide, and moors so bleak

His battered soul, entrances.

 

The dark ushers in, on corbie wings

Dead silence. I await, and listen.

For the last C-r-r-r-ruuuck! to me, he sings

Passion stirs, and my eyes, they glisten.

 

A yearning quaver, rises up from the glens

Roused by his calls, his touch, and his need.

From his swelling sounds, I’m on edge, he kens

For his keen, whetted glances, I heed.

 

When love’s eyes close, no glancing back

Yet charms, and spells, sometimes dare.

With his unearthly grasp, I shall never lack

Each other’s longings, and vices, we bare.

 

The sharp, duple pitch, shall never be far

For our wayward ambition, lies a nether.

Mouths against skin, make everlasting scars

Stronger than time, is our tether.

 
Though never was he, a raven pure and right

Forever blows, the wind thru my bones.

A new wicked yearning, might willing take flight

Upon the day, his black heart, atones.

 

© Elle Wonders – 2016

 

 

Visual Stories

visual-stories-copyright
Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

Kidnapped for the Ages

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Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas  –  Artwork by HenriAltersLife

“Because she was the trigger, the bullet and the gun.”

-E. Wonders, Dirty Little Shrine

Inside a Nocturne

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Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas  –  Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

“The sound of it opened a new world inside her heart, and it swallowed her whole, from the inside out.”

-E. Wonders

The Path of the Not Undeserving

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Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas  –  Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

He wanders down the path for the not undeserving, to a place where sometimes is enough. A place where electricity surges and hums through his chest, as the yellow light filters down through the canopy, glimmering like a bright spirit who understands – one of the happy few.

-E. Wonders, The Dirty Little Shrine

Into Darkness

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Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

– Edgar Allan Poe

 

The Weight of Want

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Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas  –  Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

“He draws a pastèque bath in a large wooden tub, and they sit nestled in bunches of melon, crushed under the weight of want.”

– E. Wonders, The Dirty Little Shrine

Le Bzou

alternate bzou art with copyright
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas   –   Artwork by HenriAltersLife

Et que ce n’est pas chose étrange
S’il en est tant que le loup mange.
Je dis le loup, car tous les loups
Ne sont pas de la mesme sorte :
Il en est d’une humeur accorte,
Sans bruit, sans fiel et sans couroux,
Qui, privez, complaisans et doux,
Suivent les jeunes demoiselles
Jusque dans les maisons, jusque dans les ruelles.
Mais, hélas. Qui ne sçait que ces loups doucereux
De tous les loups sont les plus dangereux.

-Charles Perrault

 

Umbra

Transparent with copyright
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas   –   Artwork by HenriAltersLife

It came in rushes, then slowed – that longing for a place that wasn’t enough. Her skin glowed around his shadow, and with her ear to his heart, she let it pulse.

– Elle Wonders, Pour Mon Bzou

Blossom

Hygrangea
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas

 

A new bud darkens.
Engulfing heartache blossoms,
Altering a mind.

-E. Wonders

 

Found

 

Found with copyright
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

“It’s evening in the morning when he finds his dirty little shrine. She is surrounded by torches that coax the truth like he coaxes the sound that her tongue cannot make.”

– E. Wonders, The Dirty Little Shrine

Awakening

Awakening with copyright
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas   –   Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

“The forest is dark and damp, and she feels the soft, loamy earth underneath her. The night brings them fear, and awakening, and a language that has no home.”

-Elle Wonders, The Dirty Little Shrine

A Life Ephemeral

Life Ephemeral with copyright
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas   –   Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

“It was a trap, but not a trap. It was an epoch of abundance. An embarrassment of words…”

-Elle Wonders, Pour Mon Bzou.

Mon Coeur

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Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas  –  Artwork by HenriAltersLife

Sanctuary

Castle photo with copyright
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas   –   Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

“When he awakens her, they begin to build a confessional from all that they have. A sacred place, where words can be stripped bare. A sanctuary for thirst and ambition.”

– Elle Wonders, Mapa da Boa.

La Chambre du Poète

Poet chamber with copyright
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas   –   Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

Betrayal

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Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas   –   Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

 

Excerpt from Pour Mon Bzou:

“A blaze of epiphany. Like baneberries in dim light, he could not have imagined the whites of her eyes. Her stare caught his flaws, like fireflies in a bell jar, and his good fortune wandered off like a gypsy.”

 

The Fire Begins

Her Fire Begins with copyright
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas   –   Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

 

Excerpt from The Dirty Little Shrine:

“She sees the hunger in his face, but not in his heart, because like the sound on her tongue, it has been hidden. “If my heart was pulled out of my chest and put, beating, in front of you, would you know what it wants?” he asks. Look how easily he betrays his heart for her, ripping it out of his chest like an Aztec god. She just nods as they sit in their dinner bath, and play like warriors, and he sees how her fire begins in her mouth. Like a dragon.

And there was feeling back in his chest.”

 

Around Ireland with an Englishman and a Potato

PicMonkey CollageGenre: Memoir/Satire

Synopsis

 

In her early forties, during a period of restlessness, Elle Wonders narrowly escapes a mid-life crisis by planning not one but three trips to Europe. After two back-to-back vacations to England and Norway, Elle embarks on a ten day road trip around Ireland and Northern Ireland with her favorite Englishman and their newly adopted potato. This sometimes witty and poignant memoir chronicles the many shenanigans they attend to in country pubs, old graveyards, and long winding roads that inevitably lead to stinging nettles and a cuppa tea.

In their quest for freedom and alcohol and with nary a travel itinerary or GPS in site, Elle and Pierre (her very English traveling companion with a French name) navigate their way past real-life zombies, stressful roundabouts, and locals who insist on telling them six irrelevant stories when all they want is directions to a nearby petrol station before their rental car runs out of fuel (and Pierre runs out of bacon flavored crisps).

In typical style the exasperating pair spend their days on the open road quarreling over the rules of food-ordering etiquette and the proper way to read (and fold) a genuine paper road map. They narrowly escape a run-in with traveler-folk, stumble upon a stampede of (semi) wild sheep, and very nearly steal the sweetest dog ever from a small village beach. But they experience true enlightenment during a long drunken night in Galway, where in a seemingly normal pub they encounter evil fiddlers who play never-ending songs and an assortment of old Irish men who distract Elle with non-stop dancing while their sons plot marriage proposals.

By the time this journey of madness and delight comes to an end, the exhausted duo discover the secret to cross-cultural friendship, the value of rust-free water, and the fact that petrol stations that sell bonafide Irish potatoes is what you will find at the end of a rainbow.

Oh, and there may or may not be a bit of nudity along the way. And quite possibly crown theft, leprechauns, and a small amount of crying. But not necessarily in that order.

 

 

© Elle Wonders 2009–2016

Silver Vine

Silver Vine
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas

 

Cross-Pollination

Cross-Pollination
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas

 

Mon Coeur, Que le Diable l’emporte

elle rouge photo
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas   –   Artwork by HenriAltersLife

 

C’est Lou qu’on la nommait

Il est des loups de toute sorte
Je connais le plus inhumain
Mon cœur que le diable l’emporte
Et qu’il le dépose à sa porte
N’est plus qu’un jouet dans sa main

Guillaume Apollinaire (1880 – 1918)

There are wolves of all kind.
I know the most inhuman.
My heart, the devil takes,
and deposits at his door,
is no more than a toy in his hand.

 

Waiting


Elle raspberries 1
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas

 

Straying from the Flock

Elle raspberries 2
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas

 

Around Ireland with an Englishman and a Potato

irish potato

Genre: Memoir/Satire

Synopsis

In her early forties, during a period of restlessness, Elle Wonders narrowly escapes a mid-life crisis by planning not one, but three trips to Europe. After two back-to-back vacations, first to England, and then to Norway, Elle embarks on a ten day road trip around Ireland and Northern Ireland, with her favorite Englishman and their newly adopted potato. This sometimes witty and poignant memoir chronicles the many shenanigans they attend to in country pubs, old graveyards, and long winding roads that inevitably lead to stinging nettles and a cuppa tea.

In their quest for freedom and alcohol, and with nary a travel itinerary or GPS in site, Elle and Pierre (her very English traveling companion with a French name), navigate their way past real-life zombies, stressful roundabouts, and locals who insist on telling them six irrelevant stories, when all they want is directions to a nearby petrol station, before their rental car runs out of fuel (and Pierre runs out of bacon flavored crisps).

In typical style, the exasperating pair spend their days on the open road quarreling over the rules of food-ordering etiquette, and the proper way to read (and fold) a genuine, paper road map. They narrowly escape a run-in with traveler-folk, stumble upon a stampede of (semi) wild sheep, and very nearly steal the sweetest dog ever from a small village beach. But they experience true enlightenment during a long, drunken night in Galway, where in a seemingly normal pub, they encounter evil fiddlers who play never-ending songs, and an assortment of old Irish men who distract Elle with non-stop dancing, while their sons plot marriage proposals.

By the time this journey of madness and delight comes to an end, the exhausted duo discover the secret to cross-cultural friendship, the value of rust-free water, and the fact that petrol stations that sell bonafide Irish potatoes, is what you will find at the end of a rainbow.

Oh, and there may or may not be a bit of nudity along the way. And quite possibly crown theft, leprechauns, and a small amount of crying. But not necessarily in that order.

 

 

© Elle Wonders 2009–2016

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