Nicholas - The Stolen Reindeer

Nicholas would like to wish everyone a very happy Christmas. He's been busy for the last few days, but you can find out how to hear his story by visiting this website.

'Nicholas - The Stolen Reindeer' is a traditional Christmas story that's available as an app and features illustrations and words from Marina and Tom.

Colourful Star hopes that you've had a wonderful Christmas and wishes you well for 2015.

Marina, Tom and Vasilena xx

Весела Коледа/Merry Christmas

"Once upon a time, in the mountains far away, there was a farm. On it lived Mary Torpipit and her parents, Elspeth and Gregory ..."

Here is the beginning of a new collaboration ...

'Nicholas - The Stolen Reindeer' is a seasonal children's story with illustrations by Marina and a text by Tom.

It's a traditional festive adventure in which a young girl living in the mountains sets out to save the Christmas spirit and, in fact, Christmas itself.

It's published by x-ovation and is now available as an app - with hand-painted illustrations, animation and audio version - and is for children aged between four and seven.

You can download it in English (and other languages) from Amazon in territories across the world, including the UK, America, Australia, Spain and there is also a German version on iTunes here.

If you have liked our posts on Colourful Star so far, we hope you will like this new children's story too.

Colourful Star will continue and we'd like to wish you a very happy - and, of course, colourful! - Christmas,

Marina, Vasilena and Tom xx

Петдесет/Fifty

Петдесет картини,

петдесет стихотворения,

с много работа и много любов

намираме

един общ език,

откриваме

една обща земя.

През планини и гори,

по мостове и улици

през малки, китни села,

съхранили спомените от детството

през моментите на пътуване,

от България и Англия

ние тръгваме

по нови пътеки.

Нима има нещо невъзможно

на този свят?

Не можем да знаем ...

защото това пътуване

продължава.

Fifty paintings,

fifty poems,

much work, much love

so as to find

a common language

common ground.

From mountains and forests

to the bridges and streets

of small and beautiful villages,

from memories of childhood

to moments of travel,

from Bulgaria and England

we look for new paths.

What isn’t possible

in this world?

We cannot know ...

this journey

is to be continued.

This is Colourful Star's fiftieth post

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips and Vasilena Shiderova.

Before snow

Smudged yellow light at dawn suggests a cold snap.

On this new route to work, trees fluster with russet leaves;

the snug stone of a church, village cottages, a vinegary purple

line up like opportunities beyond barbed-wire fences

snaggled with accidental wool scrapings from sheep.

Flowers still bloom. Or seedheads flaunt their ochre fruitfulness.

Keats looms – but then buses pass, aircraft wheel in

and the great long winter opens up between the clouds.

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips 

Trees

What to us was a park lined

the drive up to that country house

where The Beatles’ maharishi

made arguably plausible claims.

Damp yews turned out to be

promises made but not kept.

At that age, of course,

we raced amongst them,

played war games in thickets

on the far side of ploughed land

which led to Bridego Bridge –

a 1960s topography.

Where Beeching’s cut line

swung around the border

of an aristocratic estate,

we fired air pistols into bark.

Dunstable lovers came out

to woo in secluded lanes.

We were already there –

witnesses and irritants.

In the decade’s last evening,

we marched home, immune

to sunset and shadows,

a geometry of trees.

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips 

Atanaska

How your blue eyes stopped me.

Your exhausted mother was out for the count.

In that small room we’d been moved to,

upstairs somewhere

in the maternity hospital,

a nurse came in and handed you over,

asleep for the moment,

and I was like what now?

No more than one hour old,

you woke up on my knee,

took a look and went back to sleep.

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips 

Baba

A face is etched at the years’ expense.

In the longest of runs, something reached at

comes down to a look, a landscape,

a placement – to the particular

arrangement of time and space,

and then, sobering, biology.

Emotions tumble like circus gymnasts.

In the longest of runs, it boils down

to discoveries in the asteroid belt

and this etched face.

We'll say ‘I’, of course, but pronouns

are always more than

the first word in a story.

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips