I have been doing what i do best: drinking too much tea, tossing thoughts around like confetti.... idle musings that will somehow, more often than not, eventually transform themselves into something quite magical and productive. We hope.
My Tuesday musings:
. The photography of Lewis Carroll (or The Rev. Charles L. Dodgson, whichever you prefer)
. Rabbits; the loss of, the art of, the love of all things bunny.
. The music that infiltrates my imaginary worlds.
. A book, of magic.
. And Tea.
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So, i will begin with the Carroll Photographs, and the book that i still need to buy.
My thoughts?
I love them, of course. And yet i am somewhat disturbed by the controversy that occasionally surrounds this mans work and his adoration of children.
Do i think that there is anything essentially wrong with these images?
Certainly not.
To me, they are extremely beautiful, innocent, precious, and insightful.
When viewing Dodgson's images of children, i get the feeling that i am truly looking into another world, regardless of the date they were taken, the distance in time between my perusal of them and the actual events and 'scenes' depicted.
I sense a quest, a search for what it truly means to be a child. No banal smiles adorn the faces of his subjects, nor do they appear to delight in the fact that they are being photographed (ie. playing up for the camera). They are quite unlike any other portraits of children that i have ever seen.
His subjects appear almost detached from the photographer : as if they are just a little too relaxed, disinterested, perhaps, or simply so used to his presence that they have almost forgotten he is there. Their poses are often dramatic, romantic, whimsical....surreal. The children seem to have secret understanding of what the photographer seeks to capture...the ethereal, fleeting, and above all - the mysterious nature of childhood itself.
The children are seemingly introspective. They appear to have secrets, a storehouse of knowledge that they do not intend to share. They allow us to take a peek into their curious, private little worlds, only to withdraw immediately, coinciding at that very point where our adult understanding has reached its own, paticular limits. For this reason, they fascinate me, endlessly, almost as much as his stories.
I may very well be wrong in my 'reading' of these pictures, but this is how they make me feel, just my own particular interpretation, so feel free to disagree, of course!
And thankyou, kindly, to the wonderful creator of the Curiosities for scanning and sending these images my way:)
And i know that i have surely mentioned it before, but you really must see this site, not least because Lord Ogglesworth (a rather dapper owl in a top hat) will personally answer all of your burning philosophical questions via email request. I tried him just last month, and i can proudly report that my life has taken a decidedly knowledgeable turn for the better:)
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The Rabbits.
They're everywhere. I didn't quite know just how everywhere they truly were until somebody mentioned it to me, like
"Hey, Louise, what's with all the rabbits, hoh?"
My answer could be taken like this -
My Rainy Day Rabbits
They just happen.
And i'm mighty glad they do!
I particularly love the little one at the back here. She seems to be the only one who has any concern for the absconding umbrellas.
A little secret - their eyes are all my own. Except ultra blue, because mine are merely a basic kinda blue. I keep doing this; putting images of my own eyes into my collages. Surely there is a psychobabble-able theory about this lying around somewhere, but if you find it, i don't wanna know!
The first and last time that i actually shared my life with a real rabbit was when i was eight years old. We lived on a farm, so there was a menagerie going on, much to the consternation of my poor mother, who complained eternally about us never having the free time to take proper holidays, like 'ordinary' people. Well, my rabbit, Misty she was called, came to a horrifyingly untimely end between the jaws of our semi-domesticated tom cat, kitty (originale!). I used to have an old Polaroid image of me holding her on my knee, which was very dear to me, but i lost it some time ago, sadly.
But no, i dare say my rabbit obsession does not spring from unresolved grief.
We had so many animal friends that i was quite accustomed to their lamentable short-gevity by the age of about four.
So perhaps it came from elsewhere.....the great elsewhere that i use to explain pretty much most of my strange art. But as long as it keeps me happy......
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The music that illustrates my imaginary worlds?
Try this, and im rather partial to a bit of Saint Saens too, especially his Danse Macabre.
And speaking of the musically inspired....
Twilight Symphony 1 & 2
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And finally, the book of magic!
This, poorly translated, involves my collaboration with the beautiful Marinkel (Maren), a sweet (yet darkly) illustrated book of fiction, Tapestries.
A painfully haunting yet perfectly beautiful story about a young girl called Aurelie, and her curious relationship with Chione, a forgotten, antique doll that Aurelie accidentally discovers whilst sneaking around inside of her mothers old armoire.
Why should you read it?
Well, Chione is actually conscious, endowed with perfectly tuned vocal chords, and has something to reveal to Aurelie that will change her life forever.
And also you should read it because it is a damn fine work of art!
Oh, and i am 'Estrella' by the way:)
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And now, the aforementioned Tea.
I must go and make some!
This post turned out to be ever-so-slightly longer than anticipated.
I apologise to each and every one of your eyeballs in advance.
When i start to waffle, i really do waffle.
Enjoy your evening!
xxx
My favourite work by Julie Morstad.
