Give them me. No.

When I was a little kid, I had a book of poetry that I loved. My favorite poem — the one that haunted me, obsessed me, stayed with me — was “Overheard on a Saltmarsh,” a brief dialogue between a nymph and a goblin. I’m going to share the poem, but the poem itself was nothing without the art that accompanied it, so here is the page from my childhood:

I loved this. I loved the goblin, attenuated and avaricious, slavering despite his sharp claws and teeth and bulging eyes and quills, pleading for and demanding the beads he craves, willing to howl all night in a lagoon for his desire. I loved the nymph, aloof and haughty, gown flowing elegantly into water, eternally encompassing and withholding. I loved that despite her grandeur and reserve, she demands silence about her own crime: Hush, she says: I stole them out of the moon. Thief.

For years, I have wanted to make my own rendition of this image. I’ve worked on it for ages, and I want to thank two people for the two most crucial elements of the picture. First, Polyester Partridge of Yummy!, who generously created my green glass beads and a silver ring, so I didn’t have to steal mine out of the moon. They are lovely. Second, Olaenka Chesnokov of oOo Studio, who custom-made both of the poses after I threw my hands up in despair at ever finding poses that would work. She made them perfectly and they gave me exactly what I needed. Thank you both, you’re awesome. You made my image come to life.

Other than those two, I’m not giving credits to what I’m wearing, because everything is so heavily photoshopped it isn’t an accurate representation of what anything looks like in-world. But I’m very, very happy I got to do it.