In the early 1970's, whilst still in her young teens, Deby Adair began to draw and write. Poetry, prose and short stories poured from her, mostly about unicorns, mythical beings, forests and faraway places. Even then, she loved animals and believed we should take care of our natural world.
Her art, although still 'young', showed unicorns, friendly snails, forests and magical trees, towers, darkness and light. She loved to draw in black ink, with a nib.
An avid reader, she read the books of writers well beyond her age range and there she learned many interesting things about the ways of the world.
She continues to write. New stories and new books. Her time is mostly taken with a large and beautiful garden (the 'Storybook' garden.) She now has a rescue greyhound who may just believe he is the reincarnation of Benny, the little unicorn.
An author chosen to be a reader for the National Simultaneous Storytime in 2012 and an author who extensively chose school tours for underprivileged children and teens in the National Year of Reading, she continues to share her love of words with the world.
These are the things that really matter and make life a special and empowering event.
A big shout out and 'thank you' to her readers.
In the world of art and writing, there is always more to come!
"As a follower of mythical marvels, a dreamer who shapes words and a believer in making dreams come true, I have met unicorns. I met them long ago, when I was a girl. A girl that animals followed through the streets, and who talked to the ether, sending out her thoughts in happy, floating imaginings. Who deliberately touched trees as she passed them, and climbed rocky, red soiled, sun-struck hills, barefoot.
There was so much to learn about places unseen - hidden places - places where beauty unravelled as naturally as a mountain stream, and where cascading waterfalls would masquerade as galloping horses, vibrating with essences invisible to the mortal eye. Hanging fig trees with grand canopies hid the music-halls of fairies and, in the tumbling sun-slants of thick forest undergrowth, there walked elves and their consorts; stately beings with watchful eyes. I knew something then. I knew that if I closed my eyes and drifted with morning mists, or walked barefoot in streams or on dew; if I held a cricket in my hand and listened to it chirp - all the time with my eyes shut tight - then suddenly, when the moment chose, the world would entangle in a web of perfect silence, and in that moment it would happen. A brush upon my brow or on my bare-skinned arm and the sigh of a gentle breath… the softest, most fleeting gossamer touch would send tingles up my spine..." Excerpt from From the prose, ‘Unicorn Kisses ' by Deby Adair - Copyrighted Material. All Rights Reserved.