Art Stories
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When I'm creating my artwork, many times the ideas come to me in the form of stories. Since the art has these stories associated with them I decided to have fun with this and create a section of my site for these stories as they evolve. Below are the newest entries for these ongoing stories. Click on the "read more" link to read the entire story from the beginning.
Check back regularly for updates to my stories. Enjoy!
Appletree Hollow Story
Below is the newest entry in my Appletree story. You can read the entire story here.
Copyright © 2009 Linda Apple
"Sweet Pete"
11"x14"-oil on canvas
Appletree Hollow
Through the years of Appletree Hollow history, few residents became
as well liked as Peter M.Cakenhafer. Like many others in the village
his parents were immigrants from Germany & England. He was born in New York,
trapped in an immigration camp until his parents passed away.
He was rescued by a lovely young woman who moved to Ohio hills where
he eventually found Appletree Hollow and became a permanent resident.
Perhaps he was inspired by his love of good food or his need to help
others that he found success in 1908 by creating hard cake treats to sustain
sailors on long journeys. This idea eventually developed into a
specialty biscuit, shaped like a bone.
He loved holidays and would often dress up for Halloween, handing out
his biscuit treats to everyone, which earned him the nickname of
"Sweet Pete". Because of his just and fair treatment to others, in
Appleshire Story
Below is the newest entry in my Appleshire story. You can read the entire story here.
As the last of the dried sea salt dissolving from her aching body, Sydney felt a renewed sense of purpose. She maintained a strong commitment to her goal but regretfully wished that she had asked someone how long it would take to get to the village.
She stared at the road ahead; it looked much smaller and darker than before. She could see the arms of the huge knurly trees connecting in tangles high above and could hear them creak and moan as they reached out to each other. A shiver of doubt washed over her and she began questioning herself, “Are the trees larger than before? Where is that wood sprite thing? Why did she leave? I think I made her mad, and come to think of it, I haven’t seen that big black bird anywhere, I wonder where it flew off to. Why didn’t I ask more questions?”
