WHO IS THE POISONED APPLE?

THE POISONED APPLE - ​

 

Welcome!

Please have a look around.

We have a witch’s wardrobe full of felt cats, creepy hearts and fun creatures to take home.

There are cases full of jewelry for the Steampunk aficionados.  There are creepy curiosities for the Goth and classic designs for the vixens of vintage. 

But be careful -

You never know what might be lurking in the darkest corners of this shop ~~  one of a kind rag dolls, coffins, purses and oddities that just might give you a fright.
 

 

WHO IS THE POISONED APPLE

My name is Kat.

I grew up watching my grandmother create and sew gifts for the holiday.

Unfortunately, she suffered from severe arthritis but she never let that stop her.  One of her last gifts to me was a beautiful hand-stitched Victorian style doll.  It is among my most treasured possession and the spark to light my own love of doll making.

She was and still is my greatest inspiration.

Other inspirations are Tim Burton, Vincent Price, Guillermo Del Toro and endless ghost stories and horror movies.

Granted, my first creation looked more like an alien peanut but that alien peanut has now evolved into the dolls, curiosities and oddities I  create for my shop and most of the items on this site, including the dolls, have been SOLD.   However, check out my Etsy shop for my latest creations.
 
Thank you for stopping by and hope you enjoy having a look around my little corner shop in the Cyber-sphere.

THE LEGEND OF THE POISONED APPLE

Everyone’s heard the story of Snow White.  Poor little rich girl runs off when her step-mother wants to eat her heart.  She is helped by seven dwarves but falls into an enchanted death like sleep after eating a poisoned apple.    Snow gets kissed by a prince.  She wakes up.  Evil step-mother is defeated.  They lived happily ever after.

But what happened to the apple?

Snow took one bite, was poisoned and dropped the apple.

That apple was left to rot until it’s seeds were  swallowed up by the earth and began to grow into another tree.

That apple tree looked just like any other tree in the forest except  for one thing -

It was always lost in shadow, even when the sun was shining directly on it’s canopy.

Odd things also happened around the poisoned apple tree.

Place a doll upon its roots and the dolls would come to life.

Whisper a dark secret upon the tree’s trunk and the leaves would shiver.

Curl up beneath its boughs and your sleep would be bedeviled by nightmares.

But take one of its apples and you would be cursed.

Take a bite of the apple and you would also fall into a deep, death-like sleep.

That is when the curator of The Poisoned Apple came to be.

The first curator was a man named Louis.

He was a woodworker and had a corner shop during the day but at night he would stand guard at the tree and make sure no one ever plucked another apple from one of its branches.

But over time, the tree began to rot.  

The apples shriveled up and the wood was hauled away to a shed where it was used to make bits and bobs.

Those bits and bobs were snapped up by tourists who wanted a piece of the infamous apple tree.

Unfortunately for the tourists, those bits and bobs were cursed.

Years and years were spent by the next generations of curators to collect  all the pieces of the tree and take them back to a shop called The Poisoned Apple.

Inside that shop, they not only watched over the remnants of the poisoned apple tree but they also sold all the oddities and curiosities they found throughout their travels.

Interested in the odd, the unique or the one-of-a-kind?

All you have to do is explore the shop but whatever you do, don’t ever go into the secret room where the collection of bits and bobs made from the poisoned apple tree are hidden.

If you do, enter at your own risk because locked inside those bits and bobs of wood are all the nightmares ever dreamt beneath the tree, all the dark secrets ever whispered and most frightening of all are the dolls.

They came to life.

They ran away but one by one they were drawn back by the wood.

So if you ever hear whispers or little knocks on the door that should never be opened, perhaps it would be wise to run away as fast as you can.

 

 

© 2014 by Kathleen Iwasyszyn . Proudly created with Wix.com

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