Autumn Ink: Strange Rambles About Aesthetics and Fae Cryptids

Keep in mind there's a whole slew of other aesthetics I love but this is more relating to the earthy faeish kind I guess? I'm not sure what you'd call it.

I've always loved aesthetics even before I knew what aesthetics were. And magical things and stories. I was the kid that would forget I was pretending and would get way too personally and emotionally involved in whatever it was I was doing. I also was a very logical, analytical child. I was Alice in Wonderland being very logical over things that didn't make sense to begin with. I was one of those kids that told other kids that Ring-Around-the-Rosie was about the plague. I was weirdly obsessed with wild feral things and that never really went away. Even how some pretty things seemed a bit feral. And like most kids I was afraid of the dark, open closets, and underneath my bed.

So Folklore and Cryptids were always interesting before I even knew it was a whole thing that existed. There was so many aspects of it I liked. Nothing of the demonic kind because I hate that kind. I just like the myth, the story, the aesthetic of it. The earthiness of it. I'm not even talking about the dark kind I mean there's such a beautiful kind too. It's those moments watching thunderstorms and heavy down pour. The dew on flowers in the morning. Old mossy, gnarled trees. The webby aged feel of it even if it's new.

I love the feel of a ghost story. The strange prickle you get when something is off. Or mysterious characters like Rumpelstiltskin who come in with their under-handed deals and careful wording. You don't tell them your name. You never eat the fairy food, kind of like Hades and Persephone. Don't step into a fairy ring. You never make a deal with the fae because it's costs much more than you think. How there's places you have to follow an exact path to get somewhere even if the path doesn't make sense, because you will never find the place again if you don't. The prettiness and richness of glamours covering the rot underneath making it seem more than it is. Magic having a price.

I love places that feel alive and old and there's part of you that knows to be careful. No one even has to tell you. Places like Ireland (I have never been but would love to) that just seem so wild and untamed and beautiful at the same time. It's in the aesthetics of the seasons.

I love the stories that get passed along. Especially because myths/legends usually have a basis somewhere even if the story is unrecognizably distorted and even if the source of it is silly. It's the intrigue I guess. It's like Friday the 13th or April Fools Day. It's really no different from any other day but it's fun I guess. It's a small thing that adds interest to something completely ordinary.