Genre: Rescue adventures | 3D animated series | 26 x 11 minute episodes | Age 4 – 7
There are many good reasons why children sometimes feel ready to give up, and it’s the Little Wingsters’ job to remind them that they can always choose their reaction to any event and that they’re never alone.
The main reason for producing this story is to personify children’s own inner strengths; to let them pause, imagine the angels and in that moment they ‘hand it over’, their minds can come up with a solution in a more relaxed state.
Their home, Winghaven
Inga, the Maker
Punki the Creative
The cocoon from where Coco hatches
Xuki, the mathematician and scientist
Xuki's winged steed
Coco, who begins the story by hatching out of the cocoon
Little Wingsters is a courier company on the tiny planet Winghaven, from where the all-knowing Moya sends four angels to help children everywhere, but when they mess up, Moya has to un-mess the messengers.
Little Wingsters is a celestial courier company with four more-or-less angelic couriers. Each angel has their own special ability to match the kids’ needs. They bring ideas, skills, healing and learning to children all over the world we live in. At the core of their blue-green planet dwells an all-knowing presence called Moya. She is a playful swarm of tiny lights who listens via the planet’s earphones to the requests and yearnings of children everywhere.
Our story starts when Coco hatches from her cocoon in the Slynaps tree which grows straight through Winghaven, its trunk forming part of the decor of Moya’s office at the centre. Its crown catches passing star-seeds in its snowy feathers, which then form cocoons growing new baby angels. The other three Wingsters help Coco out of her cocoon and introduce her to grumpy Ignatius, (winged sheep and the planet’s ‘manager’). They also show her their living quarters in The Keep. They explain that she will invent her own spectacular dream environment in her ‘apartment’, as they have done.
Coco meets Moya, who explains how the needs of children are picked up by the roots of the Slynaps Tree, which slowly wave about like miniature telephone receivers to absorb every child’s thought sent into the ether. The information then passes through the earphones and the speakers into Moya’s Central Dispatch.
Moya sends written instructions as a telex through the bright red postbox with a cheerful tinkly tune like an icecream van instead of a clatter. Apart from the telex (which serves as a reminder, should they forget), a short video of the child plays on the screen together with images from the child’s mind. The angels can then locate the child by thought and are there instantaneously. The telex ribbon is Ignatius’s little treat.
In each episode, one or two of our chubby heroes will be assigned to a specific child in its situation. They communicate by thought, so they all grasp a situation instantly. This can and does lead to chaos, e.g. with Punki bringing a creative idea, but Inga must bring the patience to carry it out. Until she arrives, Xuki zooms in to fix it with cleverness but sometimes only Coco can fix it with a dose of joy. Soon they’re all trying… Something’s gotta give, and it often does. Then Moya rescues the rescuers with coincidences and odd occurrences and a sparkle here and there. But they try never to disappoint her.
Moya is the fascinating core intelligence of the planet. There’s some uncertainty – is Moya the planet’s consciousness? Is the planet itself conscious?
Moya is a group soul, like a huge murmuration of starlings. She can take on a humanoid appearance, but will be rarely shown as humanoid in the series. Playful and wise, Moya entertains herself and the Wingsters by shape-shifting during their consultations, into loving hands, wings, spirals, a big bird or a fish swimming around the trunk of the Slynaps Tree which grows down through the planet’s core. Sometimes she snakes up the Slynaps Tree’s trunk like DNA strands, leading Ignatius to bellow sternly down the slot in the postbox: ‘He says stop tickling!’ to the sound of shrieks of laughter from the tree above.
Winghaven, the singing planet
I first heard ‘Sounding Ground’ by Stuart Zedeka, live at an exhibition by Katherine Glenday, where two musicians, (Christina and Richard Goodall) performed with stones, shells and various other objects from nature. These were then mixed by him. I hope to collaborate with him to supply the track for Moya/Winghaven’s music which will probably include many more everyday sounds.