Watch me stop procrastinating.

Or we could just sing “Happy, Happy Turkey Day!”

 

 

Again, I swear, very little caffeine is involved today. Oh, in a random bit of information that nobody but me really needs to know about, the cup that was involved in the case of the caffeine-spins a couple of weeks ago? It was 21 oz. That means that I ingested 63 oz. of squid-strength coffee.

 

My dad was military; he taught me well.

 

So, fairytales.

 

I’ve been promising this for-ev-er; I am naughty and bad and–naughty.

 

*revels in naughtiness*

 

Of course, I’m also ridiculously tired and not feeling complete coherent.

 

Okay, fairytales, and by fairytales, I’m referring to fairytales, mythology, popular culture products that are either re-interpret/re-work fairytales, mythology, and so on or create new stories that work with similar archetypes.

 

Although, there is a World of Quibble about what popular culture products fall within this definition.

 

 

I totally vote for Doctor Who, Torchwood, Warehouse 13, Haven, Eureka, Sherlock, Stargate: SG-1, Stargate: Atlantis, Firelfy, and about zillion other not-directly-not-obviously-fairytale products.

 

And don’t forget things like Grimm.

 

Bruno Bettelheim wrote this really–in-depth–called The uses of enchantment: The meaning and importance of fairy tales, which is really a text about the importance and value of fairy tales for children.

 

Just call me a kid. *bleeeeeets*

 

But Bettelheim (1977) wrote that “As with all great art, the fairy tale’s deepest meaning will be different for each person, and different for the same person at various moments in life” (p. 12).

 

Bettelheim also wrote that “fairy tales carry important messages to the conscious, the preconscious, and the unconscious mind, on whatever level each is functioning at the time. By dealing with universal human problems, particularly those which preoccupy the child’s mind, these stories speak to his budding ego and encourage its development, while at the same time relieving preconscious and unconscious pressures” (p. 6).

 

So, basically, fairytales are a way by which we (really, whether we’re kidlets or not) are able to negotiate and interpret the world as well as act as a common semiotic language by which can communicate across language barriers.

 

They’re also morality tales, but that’s not really at the top of my not-argument.

 

So, like I was saying last time we were all in Squid”s Meditation on Fairytales Land, fairytales in all their forms are part of my art-making process to the point that I create pieces based off of fairytales and have been creating fairytales of my own through my unnamed friends series. I also have a tendency towards fairytales being a research focus too.

 

That was/is one of the joys of Art Education, because of Visual Culture pedagogy, I can legitimately watch TV, play video games, go to comic/anime conventions as research. And, that all feeds into my art.

 

It’s a happy, happy vicious-little-circle. \o/

 

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Morgan by Sarah Moon.

 

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Esmeralda from the Who Killed Bambi? post “Twisted Princesses”.

 

SyFy’s Alice, which was just really, really good and really interesting as an interpretation.

 

 

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The meeting of Alice of Legend and Hatter.

 

Remember how I mentioned that Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland was the first time ever that I wanted a love story because the plot wasn’t doing it for me (mostly)? I blame Alice.

 

Alice and Hatter are one of the few intended-couples and love stories that I enjoy, and Alice was one of the few times that I wasn’t screaming that the movie was fantastic until they decided that there needed to be a love story in it.

 

Alice in Wonderland was pretty though.

 

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A couple of shots from SyFy’s Tin Man; although, my favorite is this image.

 

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And my favorite part of Tin Man is here at 1:33 and again at 3:20.  I <3 Glitch.

 

 

Okay, I’ve probably pic-spammed y’all enough for one day.

 

And, I still haven’t watched Neverland yet. *is bad*

 

Courage.

…I am remiss; here is an art-related post in recompense about Sarah Moon, photographer

I adore Sarah Moon.  I ran across her in one of those tiny, general overview books you can buy at Barnes and Nobles or Border entitled The Photobook.  I bought it on a whim years ago when I was still in academia and hadn’t even really begun to consider a professional career (is it a career when you aren’t really making any money?) as an artist. The Moon photo which appeared in The Photobook was her Morgan from 1983. According to The Photobook‘s entry, the figure portrayed in the picture is Morgan le Fey.

 

 

 

To me, Morgan appears to be a remnant, a child-form, aging backwards like Merlin, from the depths of Arthurian legend. The photo itself shows the child-form Morgan standing before a backdrop-forest placed in the middle of an ancient alley-street, cobbled and decayed from time. This Morgan, displaced into a modern context, carries her myth with her, wrapped around her like the tartan clothes she wears.

 

As I continued to find more of Moon’s pieces, I found compositions filled with fairytales in miniture, grotesque images where beauty and decay meet in a seamless unity. Images where the purely beautiful and disenfranchised are juxtaposed with pieces that are reminiscent of Victorian death-books, memento mori. Places are more-than-inhabitable and the places Moon creates are inhabitated by that which will consume the viewer, given half-a-chance. These images, whether beautiful, grotesque, mythic, or touchable reality, echo with “choric” emotion. Chora is a philosophical term meaning “hollow” and is often used in regards to empty wombs. These choric places are filled, paradoxically, with violence and light, death and whimsy.

 

This is why Moon appeals to me. Her images are not just “pretty”, though one could interact with them in such a way. These encapsulated visual stories, because the story is all there if one looks closely enough, do not end in “happily ever after” or “the end”. The story is still going, still being told behind the picture, to the sides, in the liminality of a reconsidered moment and the ‘tween places that she captures. There is death, life, birth, and stagnation present in each photo. Like slinking crocodillians, Moon’s photographs are horrific and wonderous, capturing time and space in the split second before dissolution.

 

About the photographer: Sarah Moon was born in England in 1940. She studied drawing and was a model in both London and Paris during the early 1960s (specifically 1960-1966). In 1967, Moon became a fashion photographer and a publicity filmmaker. Moon, I think, still resides in Paris and works in illustration, fashion, and still-life, black and white, color, and utilizes sepia coloring on matte paper, a convention used in the 1920 that has all but disappeared.

 

Sarah Moon on the web:

Sarah Moon’s Phantasmagoria

A review about Sarah Moon on Coilhouse

A review of Sarah Moon on Coincidences: Discussions on the Art and Craft of Photography, and Other Digressions

 

Editor’s Note:  This was written in reply to a comment, but, on the off chance that other’s don’t necessarily read comments, my response has been placed here for your reading pleasure.

 

Honestly, I think the original photo might actually be a sepia print. That’s my memory of it. My copy was photocopied and, later, scanned from a can’t-take-it-from-the-library book.

But, I’m pretty sure that it was sepia.

 

That’s it.  Continue on about your day.