Our Story
Welcome to the Chicory Dell…
Hello and welcome! Just a little bit about me… my artistic journey began in 2000, when I first set out to illustrate children’s books. As a child (and to this day) I am an avid reader, and have always been inspired and found refuge in folk and faerie tales. After a time I dabbled in sculpting, was quickly enthralled, and it soon became the main direction of my art. Sculpting allowed me to take the creatures from my imagination out into the natural world, making them come to life. I mainly sculpt with polymer clay and epoxy, and incorporate natural materials into my pieces. My deep love of quiet solitude in the wilderness, and daydream rambles in forest and field inspire much of my art. My hope is to share the joy and childlike wonder I feel when I play and photograph my fairies out in nature. Everyone needs a little magic in their world, it just makes it a better place. In addition to sculpting one of a kind figures, I also create jewelry out of copper and real leaves. I love photography, drawing and knitting as pastimes and also wildlife rehabilitation. I live with my husband and many creatures in Northeastern Ohio. Thanks for dreaming along with me…
~Candice
The Dream Play
Derek Mahon
What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
The spirits have dispersed, the woods
faded to grey from midnight blue
leaving a powdery residue,
night music fainter, frivolous gods
withdrawing, cries of yin and yang,
discords of the bionic young;
cobweb and insects, hares and deer,
wild strawberries and eglantine,
dawn silence of the biosphere,
amid the branches a torn wing
— what is this enchanted place?
Not the strict groves of academe
but an old thicket of lost time
too cool for school, recovered space
where the brain yields to nose and ear,
folk remedy and herbal cure,
old narratives of heart and hand,
and a dazed donkey, starry eyed,
with pearls and honeysuckle crowned,
beside her naked nibs is laid.
Wild viruses, Elysian fields —
our own planet lit by the fire
of molten substance, constant flux,
hot ice and acrobatic sex,
the electric moth-touch of desire
and a new vision, a new regime
where the white blaze of physics yields
to yellow moonlight, dance and dream
induced by what mind-altering drug
or rough-cast magic realism;
till morning bright with ant and bug
shines in a mist of glistening gism,
shifting identities, mutant forms,
angels evolved from snails and worms.