Of Superheros and Monks

I recently completed a couple of projects and thought I would share.

First, is Harold the Great.  He was completely spontaneous.  This is unusual for me.  Typically, I think of a project and carry it around in my head for at least a couple of weeks, plotting how I will make it, troubleshooting hypothetical problems before they arise.  But Harold just popped out.  He makes me smile.

And here's Nick with Harold.  They have a complicated relationship.

 The next project I finished this week is a watercolor painting.  I modeled it after an illumination from a 13th/14th-century codex that purported to depict a medieval minnesänger.  I made a few changes - mostly eliminating some knightly symbols (I kept the falcon, 'cause he's cool) and painting the whole thing gold.  I get a deep joy out of using my gold paint so liberally.  The original is at left.  My version is at right.

And, because I enjoy looking at other people's process pictures, here's a couple of me at work.

Mostly because someone already purchased this painting off of Etsy (a friend-someone, but still), I have given a lot of thought to the legitimacy of using a previous work of art in this manner.  Perhaps it is my medieval history background, but given that I openly reference my source and that these are centuries-old, largely unattributed works from a time period in which copying in many forms was de rigeur...well, I guess I feel like I am working in that same tradition.  Also, I am learning.  I have looked at a wealth of medieval art over the years and finally felt confident enough to try my hand at this style.  So I used some expert guidance, those monkish badasses who produced such amazing art in the first place.  Soon, my next project in fact, I will be departing from the work of previous illuminators and attempting something more completely original.  Anyway, I wanted these thoughts to be evidenced somewhere out in the open, so that I don't feel like I'm misleading anyone, because that's certainly not my intention.  Additionally and irrelevantly, for whatever my aesthetic opinion is worth, I like mine better than the original.  It's all that gold paint, dammit!  Plus my brushwork is subtler.  *ahem*

For more crafties, visit My Etsy Shop. 

Addendum to Child of God Review

Several days ago I posted a review of Cormac McCarthy's novel, Child of God.  While I stand by my review and will not be altering it, I feel it is also incomplete.  That is, insofar as any review represents my subjective mental and emotional context and the ways in which a given book interacts with that context (yes, I'm a fan of reader-response theory), I feel as though I were so absorbed in the negative feelings generated by my reading of Child of God, that I left no room for my more optimistic thoughts about "the world we live in and life in general."*  Or, I should say, that I left no room for my more wholistic thoughts about same, which include some optimism as well as the (I'll admit) fairly dark thoughts contained in my review.

Ultimately, I adhere to an idea of balance, which idea is what McCarthy seemed to throw all out of whack for me.  So here's my version of balance, for whatever it's worth.

I am, in my daily life, an instinctual optimist.  I trust easily, love readily, take joy in small things and, in general, find beautiful things to celebrate in the world.  My life contains meaning, because I make meaning through the things I create, the things that occupy my thoughts, through the small kindnesses I give and receive, and through the love I share with those close to me.  But no, I don't think meaning is granted to us by any theistic orderer of the cosmos.  I do not believe that any being grander than our own selves requires us to behave morally or with compassion.  In fact, I would feel much more at peace with things if I lived in a world where humans took ultimate responsibility for their morality and didn't feel the need to reference an exterior source to hold them to it.  I don't seem to live in that world, however.  And I don't particularly feel at peace.

Because beneath the meaning I make for myself and the kindnesses and beauty I experience daily, I still see the universe as a chaotic, destructive place.  Out of chaos arises intriguing patterns - as the persistence of mathetmatics in nature, not to mention the development of life, testifies.  Chaos obviously coalesces into some semblance of order, for the sun rises everyday, the planets turn.  Within our limited human lifespans we find natural forces upon which we can rely...although within longer, non-human time frames, we might more readily recognize how unreliable some of these forces really are.  As for the omnipresence of destruction, it can cyclically be viewed as the predicate to creation (and vice versa).  Out of the ruins of one thing, grow the seeds of another.  Okay, I still lament the destruction - but I try constantly to view it in that cosmic sense of cycle.

Aside:  I am not Hindu and do not know half what there is to know about Hinduism, but I do know that Shiva is a great representation of the idea of destruction as transformation. Plus, I enjoy Hindu art, so here's this to look at and think about:

And, while I'm on it, the ourobouros also provides a good symbol/food-for-thought regarding cycles, death and rebirth.  (There are actually dozens of such symbols in innumerable cultures once you look for them.  This idea of balance through cycles of destruction and creation is old, old, old.) 

So I suppose this is all I am offering - that while I rather agree with McCarthy's bleak view, I find it unhelpful in the extreme to dwell only on the bleakness.  If a thousand authors, historians, poets and philosophers hadn't previously explored, at length, this same bleakness, I might have more patience with Child of God.  But knowledge of the destructive and unempathetic forces at work in the world has been with us humans for thousands of years, since the advent of writing and, I would wager, since long before that.  Not that we shouldn't grapple with this darkness, but simply pointing it out seems small-minded and mean and, for me at least, makes very unfulfilling reading.

*I'm too embarrassed to admit whence this phrase leapt to my mind.  Honorable mention and a handmade goodie (seriously) to anyone who identifies this post-modern musical nerd reference.