A Fluffy Bird Prayer…


Algy perched in a wild rose bush and gazed at the pretty flowers, which surrounded him with a delicate but lovely perfume in the cool, damp mist.

Many terrible things had been happening in Britain recently, as well as in other parts of the world, and although Algy’s home is far removed from the places in which they occurred, Algy had been as much affected by all the dreadful news as everyone else. So he bowed his head quietly and said a fluffy bird prayer for all the poor people caught up in the horror of the fires, terrorism, and acts of violence and war, both at home and abroad, and he sends everyone lots of very special extra fluffy hugs today xoxoxo


Easter Message

Algy says: It has become traditional for “important” people in the world to issue messages of peace at Easter, and specifically to appeal for peace in areas of current conflict.

Algy’s assistant Jenny has therefore chosen this day to publish her other short film for peace, MESSAGE, which was created by some very “unimportant” people.

This short film was composited and animated from live footage and artwork created specially by the children of a remote Scottish community in order to send a message of peace to the world at a deeply troubled time in 2002/2003. Although this film was made years ago, the message is just as vital and urgent today.

You can watch the film (4 mins 25 secs) at jennychapmanartwork – Jenny’s new Tumblr blog which publishes her art work in various media.


These Hearts Were Woven of Human Joys

The sun came out for a while, but the wild west wind raged without pause. Algy clung on to a sturdy branch of his favourite silver birch tree and prayed for a ceasefire in the Middle East. He thought:

          These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,
                  Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
          The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,
                  And sunset, and the colours of the earth.
          These had seen movement, and heard music; known
                  Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended;
          Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone;
                  Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.

[From the poem The Dead by the WWI poet Rupert Brooke.]