Archive for the ‘art’ Category

BG_Kn_wnds180

from the Bohemian Gothic Tarot: “A charming, energetic but somewhat feckless man (or boyish woman).  A man or woman of immense charisma, but who lacks commitment.   Emigration, making a major domestic or job move.”

darker or more hidden meaning: “Someone who loves them and leaves them.  A charming manipulator, particularly of the emotions of the opposite sex.”

Lord-Byron-2-226x300

She walks in beauty, like the night
   Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
   Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
   Which heaven to gaudy day denies.”- from Lord Byron’s, She Walks in Beauty

BG_KnCups180

from the Bohemian Gothic Tarot:  “A creative, sensitive person.  An ‘arty’ type who can be quite impractical.  A great lover who tends to idealize the object of his (or her) affections.  An enthusiastic advocate for all creative and artistic endeavors.”

darker or more hidden meaning:  “A creative person whose energy is sometimes wasted in conflict and fighting.  A tendency to rush into things based on emotion rather than rationale.”

beatrix –  Gabriel Rossetti’s, Beata Beatrix.  Painting of the character of Beatrice from Dante’s Inferno, with the memories of his deceased wife, Elisabeth Siddal, serving as the model.

BG_KnSw180

from the Bohemian Gothic Tarot: “A fighter, who can be a great friend but an implacable enemy. An impetuous person who tends to leap right into things.  A leader with great energy and intelligence.”

darker or more shadow meaning: “A person who has to get his own way.  A person who abuses others.  Using intelligence to dominate and take control.”

“When you see a river, you must follow it to its source, no matter the perils, no matter those comrades that fall along the way. You must know how things work. You must unlock.”Sir Malcom from Penny Dreadful

BG_Kn_pent180

from the Bohemian Gothic Tarot: “Following a routine dutifully.  Reliable and trustworthy, but lacking in imagination.”

darker or more hidden meaning: “Obsessive compulsive disorder.  Feeling stuck, unable to move on.   Never losing your head, always being predictable and rather dull.”

 “Whatever happened to Lestat I do not know. I go on, night after night. I feed on those who cross my path. But all my passion went with her golden hair. I’m a spirit of preternatural flesh. Detached. Unchangeable. Empty.”- Louis from Anne Rice’s, Interview With the Vampire

Advertisements

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

by John Keats

Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
And the harvest’s done.

I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful – a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery’s song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna-dew,
And sure in language strange she said –
‘I love thee true’.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep
And there I dreamed – Ah! woe betide! –
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried – ‘La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!’

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill’s side.

And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

cowper-

– painting by Frank Cowper

A Bewitching Piece of Art

Posted: August 21, 2015 in art, poetry
Tags: , ,

jean delville's stuart– Jean Delville’s Mysteriosa

“Behold the hour for your clairvoyant eyes to shine,
Intent Pythoness, inert in the silent heart of evening!
Your spirit has departed, lost amid the soul of the world,
Seeking the treasure, as your desire weaves its magic.

The sacred flame, which reabsorbs your fleshly being,
Will soon tranform the chasms of life into blazing pyres,
As the powers summon you to most secret sabbaths,
Reality of the firmament or infernal nightmare!

The holy aromatic burns in bright vessels;
For you, the world is a pure enchantment
Where you hover, dazzled, above the element,

And the angel, whom your word calls in the twilight,
Will come to reflect in the depths of a black temple
The brilliance of his golden brow, in a magic mirror.”- Jean Delville, Magica

John_Henry_Fuseli_-_The_Nightmare

“Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer–both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.” ― Bram Stoker, Dracula

“Thus fortified I might take my rest in peace. But dreams come through stone walls, light up dark rooms, or darken light ones, and their persons make their exists and their entrances as they please, and laugh at locksmiths.” ― Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla

As I continue my study of The Bohemian Gothic Tarot deck, it occured to me that it would make sense to discuss the cards in some chronological order.  However, since I’m not at all a linear thinker, that idea was quickly eschewed in favor of a more  instinctive bent. Hence, I’ll just be writing about whichever card strikes my fancy. And on this new moon, it is:

Nine of  Swords

keyowrds: Nightmares. Visions.  Terrors of the mind.   Delusions. Phobias and hysteria.   Fear of going mad.

bohemian gothic tarot nine of swords

Brings to my mind the works of Poe and Jackson. The artistic horrors of Bava and Argento.

Reflections on the card: While certainly most would consider this a negative card (and in many aspects it is), it also invokes in me a singular excitement. No doubt  because dreams and nightmares often fuel my own stories.

“I delight in what I fear,” Shirley Jackson once said.  Her Eleanor vance could have posed for this card.

We all have fears.  They can control us, or we can turn them into our own works of art.

Alexander Scriabin’s Black Mass (Piano Sonata no. 9)

One of my favorite aspects of writing is discovering who my characters are. I’m of the mind that I don’t create them. They come to me, and slowly reveal themselves, and their story to me. I’m not saying that I believe that is literally true- that they exist on some different plane- only that is how it feels.

This morning, as Moira (my 1920s amateur painter) sat drinking a mint julep, I wondered what kind of art she would have hanging upon her walls. “ Show me.”

After a couple hours merrily spent studying and viewing some of the prominent artists of the Surrealist and Art Deco Movements of the time, nothing felt right. They might be brilliant works, but not to her taste. That is, until I came upon Jean Dupas (1882 – 1964), a famous French artist and designer.

In 1922, he showed his painting, “Les Pigeons Blanc” (The White Pigeons) at the Salon des Artistes Français.

Jean-Dupas-les pigeons blanc

Romain Lefebvre stated that it was the first painting to exemplify Art Deco, “”with the indicative stylization of the figures, almost sculptural, with their long necks and bent wrists forming large arabesque movement.”

“Yes,” Moira said to his luminous colors and bird motifs.

So now, decorating her black and cream furnished parlor, are her three favorite prints by Dupas. The above mentioned, along with Les Perruches and Pomone.

jean-dupas-les-perruches-1925-1344759906_b

jean_dupas_pomone_1923_d5644826h

source (and for more information) see: http://www.primaveragallery.com/biography/dupas-bio