Art&Ghosts Blog

Little Fictions...........

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The more i think about it, the more it occurs to me that my images are like silent little fictions that could never be written. They remind me of the spaces between words, a pause before action, the turning point on a journey to who knows where. They are my very own worlds, yet the characters that populate them are a mystery to me. They have tales to tell that i am not even aware of yet.

What goes on in my head..........i wonder?

Here are some examples. New things.

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The Bored Aristocrats

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I imagine these two girls are sitting for a portrait, but cannot be bothered acting up for the camera. They are most likely used to this by now, and of course, the real magic is invisible, the props are merely playthings.
Resting between rehearsals. Mellow after tea and cake. Silent and Confident.
We know very little about their world. We are not given access. They are aware of the distance in mind between the viewer and themselves.  The caged bird isn't beyond significance, either; It sings to them, tunelessly, repetitively. It may or may not be mechanical, stuffed. This is a 'closed' scene, but the offerings we are given still retain an air of mystery, like a half-told secret or like the details from the tail end of a dream. 

I'm starting to think these little ladies are a tad smug. They know too much, and they are keeping it to themselves.

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Nine of Spades

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Not quite as menacingly secretive as the previous set up, but a Magician's Daughter all the same.  I like to imagine those little trees behind the nine of spades are approaching, slowly, deviously.................the bunny knows. They always do.
This little girl doesn't have anything to hide, in fact, i am of the impression that she has failed some sort of task set for her. Or else she is confused about it, preferring to walk through the meadow listening to the twittering of little birds. But the magic won't let her alone. It's genetic, you see, a frightful burden. I am beginning to wonder just how many 'daughter's' this legendary magician actually has. p

Ruby

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Another Magician's daughter.
Ruby and the birds. Arctic Ruby with an apple for a head. It is quite obvious that these metallic red apples are not going to disappear any time soon. They are far too applicable.  My characters adore them, and so do i. I didn't actually intend this girl to be so sweet looking, but her face just sort of 'evolved' and then her personality grew out of it, so to speak.
This happens. I don't argue.
Perhaps she is the same girl from the Nine of Spades, above, after finally completing her mysterious meadow task. And maybe the caged birds are her rewards.............or her watchers. Yes, the birds protect the girls. I like this idea. I think i'll stick with it :)

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The Guide

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When i utilize these particular landscapes, it is usually more suggestive of the significance of the main characters or objects that hover within them than as a symbol of isolation. I like the purity of this.......it reminds me of how i prefer to write poems, a sort of stilled revelation that stands alone, well, stands apart from the regular clutter and chaos of my ideas, thoughts and feelings.
A Magician's Daughter again. You might remember her from the levitation picture in my last blog post. The arctic wolf is a puzzle, literally.  He sings, too, but you will never hear him.

For some reason, this image reminds me of a painting by Hugo Simberg, called The Wounded Angel ( I very nearly wrote the Wounded Angle, which is so profound;) and yet the images are nothing alike whatsoever........ i mean, they are nothing whatsoever alike. Same thing, yeeeees! I'm possibly just having a weird moment, but i will share the painting regardless, because it is one of my old favourites.

It used to remind me of myself. A sad fact.

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The Magic Hour

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I love this image. Something about is pains me, but i can't tell exactly why. She has seen something, someone............that has just appeared before her, and i feel a mixture of dread and excitement at what might happen next.
I was thinking of twilight, the division between our own world and other dimensions. Ok, so not as thrilling as a Phillip Pullman novel, but never mind. This little girl with the curious headgear has become witness to something that she will never forget.
Or will she?

I did.

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Future Lives

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What i tried to convey here is impossible to put into words.
This is why pictures appeal to me. They assist me in translating that which i cannot voice.
I am starting to sound too mysterious for my own good now, so i will shut up.

I would rather you made of this what you will.

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Bathroom Sister 2

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Yes, very much in keeping with Bathroom Sister 1, but a different position, a different perspective. The image seems too bright on this laptop screen, I'm just hoping it doesn't look quite as dreadful on others.

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Rafael

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I'm not so used to working with male figures. I am rather unsure about the body in this image, he doesn't seem to stand quite right, but i did a decent enough job curling his hair and perfecting the exact facial expression that i had in mind.  It still surprises me that i can do this, translating something that has only known life within my own imagination into something tangible, visible, almost real.
Nine times out of ten i will fail.
But this time i conquered.......apart from the freaky body, but i don't much care about that. It will do.

A couple of things worth noting about Rafael :
He isn't getting married.
He isn't a vampire.
And he doesn't exist.

(Note to Maren : Nor is he Roderick Usher) (!!!)

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Well, that was a pretty lengthy post, but i suppose it makes up just a little for how infrequently i get to update these pages.

I will be back soon, hopefully, with a little more variety.

"I'm Late, I'm Late!" Said the White Rabbit........

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The title has nothing whatsoever to do with this post.

Or

I decided long ago that there is no such thing as lateness when it comes to updating a blog. I'm kinda with Tiffini Elektra on this one........blogging without obligation since 1066, or something of that description.
Why's this?
Well, for a logo such as this to exist in the first place (blogging without obligation) must surely illustrate that many of us occasionally feel somewhat guilty if we do not post with unwavering regularity. Now, before i go any further (which won't be very far, trust me;) i must admit that many of my friends update their blogs almost daily, but this isn't an issue, because they are 'naturals' in the sense that they do so because they love to.
And therefore...I am inclined to update with painfully wavering irregularity, such is the nature of the beast.
This is the point; we should post when we are comfortable, when we are ready. Some people are able to do so on a daily basis, some do not have the time or the inclination..... it ought not to make a difference. If a blog is readable, enjoyable, exciting, welcoming, then the regularity of posts should make very little difference. When something becomes mechanical, a chore, it is no longer a pleasure or an agreeable form of self expression.
And we all want to have fun, don't we?
Yes, we do.

I mention this because i have noticed several blog entries over the past few weeks that question this very issue. It appears to act like some sort of a virus, so i advise a good dose of vitamin C, a box of rainbow coloured tissues, and a few days resting on the chaise longue with a good old fashioned box set of murder mystery DVD's. Or whatever takes your fancy; for my part it would be Columbo or Jane Hickson's Miss Marple  (not that i don't adore Margaret Rutherford's Miss Marple, she is quite evidently a goddess!)

So, break free of your shackles, and blog to your hearts content, or not to your hearts content, whichever the case may be. I personally adore blogs that work both ways, the daily offerings and the rarities. It is the quality of the work, the words, the world which the writer chooses to share with us that matters, and if we admire an artist, or consider someone a friend, we will surely visit their blog without ever passing judgment, however irregular or punctual they may turn out to be.

I am now going to step carefully down from the soapbox and gather my wits.

Sadly, i do not possess a crimson mahogany chaise longue (A reclining chair with a long seat that supports the outstretched legs, says the dictionary, just in case.....) but i do have my kitten's ears to pull so that will cheer me up a treat (he loves it, by the way)
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So anyway, i would like to share some new newness.
More apples, more isolated yet contented young ladies in curious situations........

And my favourite image, possibly of all time:
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Levitating Girl
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From the Magician's Daughter series, probably. Up to her old tricks again. I ought to make a set of these at some point. Getting the head right was nothing short of a nightmare, but i hope i achieved something close to reality in my placement of it.
They're a peculiar bunch, you know, but they don't go in for table rapping, ectoplasmic manifestations, flickering light-bulbs and the likes. No, they only ever concentrate on their own potential, the here and the now, the mental, emotional and physical limits of imagination. And you will find there are none whatsoever. Limits, i mean.

I imagine some sort of invisible audience here (us, in reality, but a mysterious grouping in my imaginings), a silent crowd, a small group of enthusiasts.....possibly her family and friends, who are quite used to these sombre theatricals, yet never tired of them. What she achieves requires no real effort. It could only seem like an impossibility to the uninitiated.

Here is the flip version, i prefer the original, but this one excites me too, for some reason...
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Levitating Girl (the B side)
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The billowing frock doesn't seem right in this version, but never mind that. Why adhere to the norm? I don't much like the sensation of her dangling over some sort of murky abyss here, and that swollen shadow above her lends the image a more sinister aspect than the proper version. She seems less in control here. As if something or someone else directs the act.

Still, i kind of like both. Perhaps they compliment each other. Stranger things have happened.

And now for something a little bit different. But only a little bit different, mind.
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Encounter with an apple (a love story)
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This image has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with love.


I wonder what she could be doing, balancing so perfectly up there, facing up to that frighteningly metallic looking apple. This is one of those open-ended images that might require the viewer's effort to untangle, to fathom their own response. I know what i feel about it, but this is of very little consequence, because  it has reference to a childhood dream, a dream that repeated over the course of many years with no apparent meaning whatsoever.
Falling out of the sky into the apple orchard yet never hitting ground.
The above image has bypassed this sensation, i like to think of it as a resolution to the dream (of sorts).......suddenly finding oneself secure, on a level with the symbol itself: the apple. Now, what to ask of it................ 
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No title, just a nebulous moment - i am prone to them on occasion.
I like to wonder where she really is, because i imagine she is somehow wandering amongst her own thoughts, or lack of them. I sense that she feels stifled by the limits if her situation in this reality, and yet she is also too young to appreciate that for what it is......an illusion.

Remember, this post is apparently championing the idea of limitless possibilities. They are all around us, but sometimes we are oblivious to them. I have no idea why this post is championing limitless possibilities, it just turned out that way.

And now for something ludicrously silly, but i had some fun, ok?
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So untitled it hurts
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Myself as a Victorian Lady.
The choice of body does nothing for my curiously positioned head, but i do love the bleeding heart and the magical insanity of the landscape.

Just for the record, i would have made a dreadful Victorian Lady.
Ask my mother......
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Ok, i'm hungry, so i must leave you now.



Back soon, possibly, maybe, at some point in the nearish future.

XxXxXxX

Darker than...

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Darker than most, that is.

But surely, this is a matter of personal opinion. Some of my darkest imagery often arises from the most beautiful sources. There is something so luxurious about the dark (both literally and metaphorically), something that excites me, hooks my attention. Who knows, maybe I'm just weird, but i might as well indulge myself whilst I'm here. 

I suppose i am (currently) looking at the darkness as a sort of metaphor for the unconscious, a pause before revelation (before light) or as a secret, shaded place, blazing with potential. I have been thinking about this all day. Today has been rather dark in itself; rain, cloud cover, very little sunlight.....one of those gloomy yet luxurious afternoons that act as the perfect backdrop for such thoughts. And i had nothing better to do, hence the luxury, the strangeness, the countless cups of tea and the somewhat-early-for-me 4th of July blog post)   

So, i found myself working on this peculiarly uncharacteristic series of images called 'Darkly Antoinette'. There is no earthly rhyme or reason. It fell upon me with a vengeance (guillotine), and i have come to the conclusion that my model had much more to do with it than I.

Antoinette...............no idea. Perhaps it has something to do with Marie Antoinette, which reminds me of the guillotine, which reminds me of my friend saying that guillotine ought to be my middle name (but it isn't, my middle name is Marie! Hoh!). Why would my friend suggest that my middle name ought to be guillotine? Well, lots of endings and fresh beginnings for strange little me over the past six months or so....

I shall jump to the images, which all go by the same title, which required me to get familiar once more with numbering (Gawd). I have never been too fond of numbering images) There really is a first time for everything.

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#4

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Someone ventured to ask had i montaged my own mouth onto this portrait, and the answer was no, thankyou very much! (you know who you are;) But i did mess with her eyes a bit here; i was thinking of the Don Van Vliet thing with 'Her eyes are a blue million miles'. But nevermind that, it has little to no relevance whatsoever. Except for maybe her eyes are supposed to be suggestive of some sort of 'interior' distance, regardless of the actual presence of the person/doll.
Up close, yet gone for miles.

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#9

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Alice on her way down again, most likely.
But who knows, you can drown in a dream of spectres. I like to think of this as a sort of dance, a waltz with gentleman ghosts. Look at it this way, they are never going to step on your toes.
(please feel free to add suitable musical effects to this picture, courtesy of your own, wild imagination)

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#2

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A cascade of whispers and crimson hair.
A hushed conversation with the invisible. Sometimes i would like to make something that is almost audible with pictures. Suggestive of sounds, or like a pause between whispers and shared secrets. I can quite literally tie myself in knots with this type of nonsense. Yip!

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#1

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Some thoughts will remain pure, regardless the ever-increasing chaos that surrounds you.
I think this image wanted to convey such an idea. Something timeless, ageless. perhaps an antidote to the transient, the terror of decay. And by 'decay' i am referring to innocence, faith.... hope, not the physical aspect of the word.

She reminds me of someone, but i have no idea who it is.

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#10

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PLEASE SEE HERE FOR THE DARKLY ANTOINETTE SET AT FLICKR:)

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That's all for now, but i shall be back soon.

Take care, and please enjoy the dark.

xxxxxx

Pretty Luminosty (an update)...........

Pretty Luminosity

 

A process of discovery............

Although i generally prefer people to interpret my images by looking into their own 'mirror' (metaphorically speaking) i actually feel as if i ought to share my own particular feelings about this picture.
This is a rare example of something coming together almost too completely; a concept taking on tangible form with a sort of miraculous accuracy. Basically, the process and the idea are pretty much identical. The image unfolded as a piece of work in complete sync with my realising what the work was actually about (although 2-dimensional, my images always  come about via a sort of timescale, like a moving/growing narrative).

So i got excited about it.

I will foolishly try to explain this.
Ok!
The three girls are all one and the same person (why three girls? i just like the number, it sounds right and it has a nice shape, amongst other things)
.............The girl wearing the blindfold represents the latent or unfulfilled aspects of the self. The girl in the far distance being the end-product, the fully realised, unshackled self.

And the girl in the middle...................is the girl in the middle.

What i love most about this image is the spatial relationship (both physically and spiritually)  between the three girls. Their facial expressions speak volumes. They are somehow aware of what is happening, or so it may seem...........the middle girl appears hesitant to walk away from the blindfolded girl, as though she is still intrigued by this particular aspect of her life. At the same time, her strange little face tells me that she has no intention of hanging around it for very long, either!
Perhaps she regards it with a mixture of pity and curiosity, or even a puzzled sense of unfamiliarity and recognition.
The middle girl is the most potent aspect of this image, for me. She is the bridge (as such) between two separate worlds, and possibly the one who has made the toughest of transitions.

The lanterns can be interpreted any way you like: illumination, guidance, revelation. Same thing really.
These lanterns remind me of certain scenes from the film Innocence (not one to miss, if you know what's good for you), and maybe there actually is a similarity in terms of why i chose to utilise them.......i'm not entirely sure.
(why five lanterns? i just like the number, it sounds right and it has a nice shape, amongst other things;)

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Ophelia

 

So, this is the way it goes: Ophelia got bored with ideas about death and decided to hitch a ride out of there on a discarded floating bathtub.
I mean, why not?

Dishing her toes in the stream without a care,
slowly idling her way to who-knows-where,
the flowers of suicide a-wilting in her hair.

But seriously, my MOMO doll has been crying out for this role since the day she arrived here. I am nothing short of delighted to have fulfilled her most cherished ambitions!

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No Vacancies

 

I think you get the idea. Or at least i hope you get the idea.
Meet Ingrid, the girl who lives inside of her own head too much, or so they say.
I tell her to pay them no mind, and to keep on doing what she does best - playing with starlight and dreams.

She loves Maya Deren films and toasted fruit teacakes.
Not bad, eh?

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StarHorse

 

A sparkly bunch of love and no mistake!
This began life as a regular reversed silhouette, but decided to get colorful and layered somewhere along the way. Some things are unpredictable, like myself.
And this, i ought to say, encapsulates everything that was beautiful about my childhood.
And the parts of it that never really left:)

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Now i must retreat to my bedroom and catch up on some sleep.

♥ I will return soon with goodies galore and free lollipops ♥

Have a ball!
xxx

 

Of Dolls & Dreams..........

..............and Dreams of Dolls.

    Doll: Akiyama Mahoko/image: Eyedia.

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Dolls delight me. They're forever on my mind.
It's so insanely obvious, i do suppose, that i hardly need to even mention it.
But i wanted to make this post a sort of little dedication to all things dollish. My very favourite things.........................along with the rabbits:)

I have always been drawn towards them, for a variety of reasons, and i am aware that many of you, and countless people the world over have a similar passion for these curious little representations of human beings, or creatures, anomalies, and so on and so on.....

Dolls are such precious, beautiful things, and at the same time, strange. Some folks will tell you that dolls actually scare them, that there is something inherently 'creepy' about their lifeless yet perfect little eyes, hands, and mouths.
Especially the teeth.
I have never quite understood this, but i do accept that it is a common reaction, and that many do not share the same fascination as i do for what is obviously the most frequently used motif in my body of works - and quite as likely, one of the primary forces that drive it !

This image is one of the very first photo manipulations that i ever made using a dolly:

Tragically, it is such a tiny file size that i cannot imagine it making a decent print, but i am secretly fond of it, regardless. I was quite unused to using the techniques that are so like second nature to me nowadays.

As a child i was almost as fascinated by dolls as i am today, but in a wholly different way. I wasn't so much interested in them as playthings or pretend babies; i was more inclined to perceive them as something akin to little 'models' that i could manipulate, dress, invent stories around, naming them, exploring my own world through them...sometimes playful, sometimes not so!

I sometimes wonder if we still have a sort of magical connection to dolls, which might be termed 'primitive' in the sense that they are symbolic of the human figure, the human being, yet not quite human at all. I'm thinking now of certain essays or stories i have read (at some time or another) that make use of the idea of dolls as objects that we somehow imbue with life via imagination, or focus (or love, especially in the case of a child).
This is apparent when you recall certain stories and films that have used dolls in much the same way, particularly ghost stories and horror films, like those about the 'possessed' doll (don't mention chucky to me!) or worse, the ventriloquists dummy *shudder* !!!
See Dead of Night for the quintessential example.

But on the lighter side of the fence, we have examples such as the Tapestries story (mentioned in a previous post) which utilises a similar yet refreshingly wholesome theme. Instead of the doll leading a reign of terror, we have the doll revealing a reign of terror (caused by humans), that will eventually bring revelation, truth and acceptance to the young, female protagonist.

This could go on forever, so i will shut up:)

Doll: Akiyama Mahoko/image: Eyedia.

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So what is it that intrigues us, that fascinates so many of us about dolls?
Well, my guess is that they allow us to express ourselves, encouraging the joys of imagination, make-believe, wonder. Aside from their obvious craftsmanship and beauty, they are so amazingly full of potential: we put something of ourselves into them, whether we are using them as works of art, sculpting them from scratch, writing about them, customising them, or simply collecting them.
In many ways, you might say that this is very much the same as what a child might do in play; exploring, inventing, acting-out, resolving, refining, and redesigning reality.

Perhaps those of us who love dolls have simply never lost the ability to play - or to explore our demons.

I have always thought this in relation to my art work. It is a continuation of my exploration of myself and the world around me. My toys are my tools and techniques, my flights of imagination are as powerful and convincing as those that engrossed me as a child.

These are some of the wonderful websites and artists that i have been mooching around over the past few days...

I love these with a passion!

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Porcelain, china paint. 20cm tall (doll sculpture) by Shary Boyle.
How delightfully, elegantly twisted! You have to check out her other works for more amazing examples:)

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And the awe inspiring doll sculpture of Rhonda Gushee:

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The marionettes of Scott Radke:

And these. They leave me speechless....Noriko Okamura dolls

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I want each and every one of them to come and live with us at the Artandghosts Circus!
Just imagine how perfect that would be.
But alas, i cannot work out if they are for sale or not. To anyone fluent in the language, please help me!!!!

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And some more links to dolly delights:

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.  Mildred and her acorn friend by MarmeeCraft

. Torn and Tattered by garboodles

. Money Dolly Art Doll by TheDevilsWallpaper

. Dollseye

. Mahoko Artdoll

. Elizabeth McGrath

. Strange Dolls

. Dolls of Yore

. Gnarly Dolls

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I must go and attend to my work now, so i shall bid you goodnight and pleasant dreams:)

And a huge hug and kiss to my eternally angelic mother, who will most likely be mulling over this post in the morning:))

xxx