I went over and took a peek at the 8C last night to try to come to a decision of some sort and whoa, the colors were way different than I remembered. They were actually a color I can’t exactly name – kinda like a very pale yellow gold with a patina. Of Course a water lion would have to have a patina!!! I didn’t think of that before. Maybe I should go with that! That would make it more sculptural than….real, hmmm I’ll have to think about that.
I was observing yesterday, as I was leaned back in the dentist chair actually, that when I started this tarot the symbolism I used was much more superficial (or if not it was by dumb luck, or rather, that dirty word intuition). A lot of it was couched in my personal experiences. An example would be the propeller around the neck of the Devil. It was a dream/nightmare symbol of mine but may or may not have meaning to anyone else. I moved through religions and myths, searching for commonalities and some semblance of truth. I should say that also in this middle period I firmly believed that I was in control of the process. Now I feel like I am not just reaching deep within but so far within that it is somewhat of a universal collective experience, even outside the range of humans, though in a language understandable by humans. Now I don’t feel in control and have submitted to that. I feel more like a channel, what was intentional was allowing myself to be the best channel for it to come forth, like lightning. Whatever ‘it’ is. It’s funny, I see it almost like a giant spiritual octopus or kraken (love the octo = 8!) and his arms materialize through different people in different places doing whatever it is that is being done. What is it? Why? I don’t know. I mean really, what change in the world does a tarot deck bring? Is it simply some desire for the great spirit or whatever it is, to make itself known to people? Is it people’s innate desire to know themselves or understand what makes us move, why we live, well, answer the mysteries of the universe starting with the patterns of its existence, like numbers, once you know the abstracts you can know all of it. We want to know. Here it is. I suppose. What is the purpose of any art? Hey! I have an answer for that! Hee hee. I think it’s a side effect of the mutation that makes us fascinated with patterns and thus enabled us to master language and evolve the human race ! That would be the exoteric thought I have anyway.
That’s sort of why I try to give these paintings leeway in the direction they take rather than be strict in how they turn out. Plus, I have come to realize that the process is as important and the beginning or the end and each card is a long journey and what you know, believe or intend at the beginning doesn’t need to have anything to do with what it is in the end.
That was another thought I had from the chair – each card I/anyone paints is like a long reading, you draw a card for yourself and then it slowly manifests itself in your consciousness and your life until it culminates. Does the card shape around your life or does your life shape around the card? Or both? Or do they just nod at each other acknowledging the similarities, the truths in each other?
Well now, now that I have said much and clarified nothing, I think I will add another Bruce Dickinson video to the top of this post. This is part one from an interview he did on faith and music. I think he speaks about the same kinds of things I am interested in eloquently and clearly, a fellow tentacle!
It’s my night in office so I will make some sort of a decision then, to go forward with this one or to trash it and start over. I’ll try to scan it too, or failing that, I’ll take a freakin picture. That alone might be reason to repaint it.
Below the thunders of the upper deep,
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides; above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumbered and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge sea worms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 – 1892)
I’ve had a few minutes to think about this now, and I like it. How many stories have a kraken that rises out of the sea to claim you, funny,:
A Kraken in the deep,
a Spider in the keep,
a Lion from a Sheep ;
from One to Eight will claim you.