Posts from Oniric Mermaid

About Colour III – Ray Cesar

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 06:23:52 +0000

One of my first entries in this blog was about my interest in colour and especially in artists that break the mould and do something that sets them apart from others. Those artists who give a step forward from the mainstream aesthetics and use strong colours to show darkness, which is not the norm among dark artists at present .

One of my favourite digital artists does just that. He’s a dark artist despite his images being very colourful. His characters are all very pale, children or child-like, very delicate, but with very dark insights and intentions – Dark within, not outside. His digital palette mixes some tones of the Fifties palette with more vibrant glassy pop colours. The fact that the colours are so intense and overwhelmingly present, makes RC’s characters and scenes even more intriguing and mysterious. You know what you can expect from a bloody figure, from an image in grey, black or ochre tones, but not from an image in red, black, turquoise or with floral patterns! Even his blacks and whites are shiny and glossy. Of course, what makes the characters so interesting is not just the colour, as Rc's images are very naughty, but colour plays a great role in the narrative and the psychological drawing of the scenes.

Below it is a link to Ray Cesar’s website. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. (His bio is quite funny!):

http://www.raycaesar.com/pages/GalleryIndex.html

The Oniric Mermaid - A Portrait

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 10:15:26 +0000

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The oneiric mermaid is covered by a shield of golden scales that protrudes behind her body like a prehistoric fish's tail. A simple twist of her tail starts a slow drowning into herself. She uses the undulation of her arms -the blossoms of her psyche- to follow a path leading to her inner depths, moving graciously across a swirly ocean of faded memories, present and future wishes, mixed feelings and thoughts never thought.

The oneiric mermaid loves the coloured abyss that it is at the end of her trip. A magic place where her unconsciousness and consciousness intercross playfully. A magic place where her soul bubbles up transporting red glassy signs and Morse codes. When the oneiric mermaid reaches that place, she reclines comfortably in a cave full of coralline wows, ois, auchs and hmms, from where she watches your intently, like a fortune teller in front of a glass ball. Only then, the oneiric mermaid is ready to sing her song. A song of unspoken words, without notes or scales, magic in its obscurity, profane in its sensuality.

You, the one who cannot see or hear her, you, the one who says that magic creatures do not exist, you, the one who does not dare to dream, you, feel caught and entangled by the force of the indescribable. That is one of the two gifts of the oneiric mermaid - to be able to harvest dreams, hers and yours, and place them in a tiara around her head. The other? Her sharp claws

A photo of me NAKED is here www.ipernity.com/doc/oniricmermaid/595032/in/album/56215

Thinking About Art - Epilogue

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 22:49:14 +0000

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The other day, I was perusing the section of cartoons of El Pais, a Spanish newspaper, and I found two by cartoonist El Roto (nick for Andres Rabago) related to the 28th ARCO (International Contemporary Art Fair hold in Madrid). The cartoons are impacting and a great way to end this series of entries on Art, just because they express in a few words some of the things we've been discussing here. Visit the links to the images, you won't regret it.The translation of the texts are as follows:

1/ www.elpais.com/vineta/?d_date=20090213&autor=El%20Roto&anchor=elpporopivin&xref=20090213elpepivin_4&type=Tes&k=Roto

The painter is not important, my friend, the one really important is the one handling the markets

2/ www.elpais.com/vineta/?anchor=elpporopivin&d_date=20090214

During many years he hanged his paintings without any success. Only when he hanged himself as a proof of lucidity the market put its eyes on him...

Thinking about Art V - Exercise of Self-doubt

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 11:11:57 +0000

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Four friends decide to expend their Sunday visiting a new exhibition. On arrival, they decide to be part of a survey carried by the author on a sculpture displayed at the Gallery. The survey requests them to enter the room one by one, and give their opinion on the piece before leaving the room. The questions are: a) Do you like the ensemble? b) Do you think is art?

The piece is a black wooden old style chair with a red balloon attached by a string to one to the left backrest of the chair, a set of silvery oversized scissors hanging from the right part of it, and a vintage box full of wonderful delicate white feathers; the ceiling lighting is a cross of different soft yellow and orange tones.

Peter finds the piece charming, nicely put together, but it doesn’t tell him a thing; his reply: I like it, but it is not art. Jack finds the ensemble conservative and unoriginal, but there is an organic cohesion of elements, and the concepts of emptiness, broken dreams, and past happy times come to his mind; his reply: I don’t like it, but it is art. Bruce finds the piece too girly and uninteresting and replies: I don’t like it and it is not art. Terence enters the room and he’s given a leaflet with the author’s name, the title of the piece, and an explanation. He doesn’t like it but his reply is: I like it and it is art.

My questions

1/ Can you distinguish what you like from what is good? Which criteria do you use?

2/ Which of the friends' attitude are you usually closer to?

Your opinions are always much appreciated. Thanks!

Thinking about Art IV - Exercise of Judgement

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 09:34:02 +0000

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Tullah was a hairdresser before she started to paint as a weekend hobby. She didn't attend any Arts school, so she bought some books on painting techniques, some painting materials and taught herself; when she learnt the technique, she started to copy elements from her old cards and posters of the 1920s.

Her paintings were very likeable and she started to leave pieces at the next-door antique shop, where her paintings became very popular. Tullah's popularity increased immediately, and so the number of collectors, auctioneers and galleries knocking on her door. She quit hairdressing and started to have a great life as a painter, meddling with posh people where she was highly regarded.

Then, the BBC called on her for an interview at a radio show where only great artists were interviewed. When asked about the inspiration of her famous tryptic, the one in the British Gallery for Contemporary Arts, Tullah naively replied that she had just copied different figures from well-known posters/cards, and put them together in each image. She added that, the cards/posters were so well known, that she thought that everybody would have noticed.

Next morning, Tullah's world crumbled. She read nasty comments from the critics on the national newspaper, the auction houses returned her works with silly excuses, and there would be no further media coverage of her work or open exhibitions. What is more, the British Gallery removed her paintings from public display and put them in its basement deposit.

Although Tullah continued painting,she could not make a living from it, so she used her last savings to buy a restaurant, where people were visiting her and buying her latest works until she died in 1985.

This is, of course, an hypothetical scenario, as the ones provided in the other entries. Here my questions 1/ Do you think that Tullah was a real artist? 2/ Do you think it was justified the reaction of the Art market and the media to her confession and her paintings? Please, explain your answer. Thanks!

Thinking about Art III - Exercise for Assessment

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Fri, 02 May 2008 12:46:30 +0000

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You go to an auction at "Herbert & Co" because a famous Miró is going to be sold. You have gotten a few millions in the bank and Miró is your favourite painter ever. You have been dreaming of the moment for years, and this piece in auction is truly special, it speaks directly to you. Your favourite Miró. So, you go through the auction and buy the Miró. A few weeks after the Miró is hanging from your wall, "Herbert & Co.'s" chief calls you and tells you that the Miró they sold you is a fake.

You cannot believe it. You pay to the best expert on Miró in the world to examine the piece and tell you the truth. The expert takes a few weeks to do so and tells you that the fake is so good that he/she, the best expert in the world, had trouble finding out if it was original or not. But, the answer is that is not a Miró. "Herbert & Co." apologises, returns you the money, and even allows you to keep the piece, just for the trouble and because you loved it. Moreover, nobody will notice if you don't tell.

MY QUESTION: Would your relation with the piece change? Would you keep the piece on your wall? Would you like it less? Sorry, there are 3 questions. Please, tell me Yes, No, Perhaps, and explain why. Please read the text above carefuly and put yourself in the mood. I think this is the most open of my questions so far, and the most interesting. Let me know.

Thinking about Art II - Exercise for Evaluation

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 03:35:05 +0000

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There are two paintings in a gallery of Art, both for sale and for exhibition.

There is one painter that never sells anything, but people goes, seats in front of his painting for hours. However, his painting is always there, on the wall, being watched.

There is one painter that never attracts this sort of attention. Nobody goes to seat in front of his painting. However, every time the gallery shows a new piece, somebody buys the piece.

None of these artists are known or have any fame, they are just anonymous artists.Both paintings are well painted, with similar styles and subject, similar formats and techniques.

MY QUESTION: Which painting DO YOU BELIEVE has more value from the point of view of Art and WHY?

This is not a contest, is a way of thinking together. I have my opinion of course, but not everybody sees things in the same way. That is why I' m asking YOU.

I'm looking forward to hearing your opinions. Don't be shy!

Thinking about Art I - Exercises for Understanding

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 06:12:29 +0000

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Think that you have been born blind, that you belong to world of blind people who have never seen and, therefore, don't have any idea of what colour or visual shapes are.

Now, what would Art mean to such a society? Which form of arts would they have?

Think that you belong to a society that is mostly deaf-mute.

Now, ask yourself the same questions.

Think that you belong to a society mostly formed by people who are deaf-mute and blind.

Now, ask yourself the same questions.

Now, think about our world, where there are considerable groups of people with important disabilities that affect the way they percive the worl, they are deaf-mute, blind, have neurological ailments, they are daltonic, they don't have hands, and so on.

Now, think about Art in general, its meaning and Universality. I don't want you to focus on those people, but ont he role that Art would play or plays for them. This is an exercise to understand and think.

Share your thoughts out loud, at least in a way that I can know what you think.

About Colour II – The Memory of Colour

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 12:10:09 +0000

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(Thinking Colour I I is a very cool entry too. You might go and visit it and be surprised...)

Kandisky once said, The first colours that made a strong impression on me were bright, juicy green, white, carmine red, black, and yellow ochre. These memories go back to the third year of my life. I saw these colours on various objects which are no longer as clear in mind as the colours themselves. (Reminiscences, 1913)

My memories of childhood are full of visual things, but there is no colour (or mix of colours) I love at present that I can track back to experiences in my childhood, except for one. What I remember about my childhood years are lights and atmospheres, a transparent veal of “whiteness” and sunlight, those of the southern parts of the Mediterranean. I remember also the calming effect of shadows on the walls, with the visual tricks that light playing puts into play. White is one of my favourite colours, but not that exact white of my childhood, by the creamy softer hues of ivory. The colours of my teens were red and fucsia, the latter being very much part of fashion of those years. My Uni colour was black, from head to toe. Ivory, black and red are my three favourite colours, those related to phases of my life, and those that I wear more often.

However, Kandinsky psychological approach (which is partially backed by modern psychological studies on psychology of colour) is not enough to explain why I am so attracted to other colours, like some varieties of aquamarines, clear greens, dark bright yellows and ochre varieties as the ones used in Aboriginal Painting. Or why the combinations red-black, green-red, turquoise-pinks are so attractive to me.

Colour affects me immensely, so much so that if see any two colours tthat not match, my eyes roll over and emit a loud “fatal error fatal error fatal error”. The expression of my face can even change if you are wearing those (to me) unmatchable colous, no matter how fashionable they can be.

My preference for certain hues and saturations within a colour, for some colours mixed together, and my attraction -above all- towards irisdiscence, bokehs, and different levels of brightness on colour have to do, after all, with my attraction towars Light more than to any hue or colour. My attraction to light is one of the things that I can track back to my childhood... perhaps Kandisky was right after all... a little bit.

To me, Happiness is...

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 00:10:43 +0000

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Happiness is having a nice picture of your life in your head despite the fact that many pieces of the puzzle are missing.
Happiness is feeling that everything makes sense, although your life is a chaos.
Happiness is looking inside yourself and liking what you see.
Happiness is looking at the mirror and accepting what you see, even though you might not like it.
Happiness is being alone without feeling lonely.
Happiness is having hope in a brighter future.
Happiness is letting your energy flow, no matter what.
Happiness is being able to empty out your mind, forget everything for some minutes, and enjoy the sunshine, the sea breeze, or the taste/smell of a cup of coffee in your favourite cafeteria.
Happiness is making what it takes to follow the path you want to follow, because it makes you less unhappy…
Happiness is self-awareness and awareness because, without them, the world would be like a moon inhabited by rocks.
Happiness is having your basic needs satisfied because, otherwise, there is no doubt that you are unhappy.
Happiness is being healthy because, otherwise, you could be sick or dead, and therefore very unhappy.
Happiness is having peace in the country you live because, otherwise, you might be in war and there is no possible happiness without peace.
Happiness is sleeping soundly.
Happiness is being thankful for what you have, despite the fact that you don't have many things.
Happiness is living your life with integrity, coherence and ethics, despite the fact that you believe that there is not heaven or God.
Happiness is accepting that your life is full of mistakes, because they have helped you to learn and move on.
Happiness is laughing out loud at a comedy, a joke, a kitten play, or a baby smile and feeling that this is enough to keep you going during the day.
Happiness is caressing your cat (or your pet) when is on your laps, or hugging it when sleeps with you.
Happiness is being in love with someone and being loved back.
Happiness is having sex with a “god”/”goddess” despite the fact that you are not part of the Olympus.
Happiness is the satisfaction you feel when you are able to materialise and create something that is in your head by writing, painting, photographing, photoshopping, or whatever.
Happiness is eating something you really, really like, and not feeling guilty afterwards because it has too much fat or too many calories.
Happiness is being on paid holidays and travelling.
To end with something definitive... Groucho Marx said, "happiness is made of little things: a little yacht, a little mansion, a little fortune…”

What makes YOU happy? What is happiness to YOU?

Life is a Cabaret

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Fri, 24 Aug 2007 11:59:19 +0000

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What good is sitting,

alone In you room?

Come hear the music play.

Life is a cabaret, old chum,

Come to the cabaret.

Put down the knitting,

The book and the broom.

It's time for a holiday.

Life is a cabaret, old chum,

Come to the cabaret.

Come taste the wine,

Come hear the band.

Come blow your horn,

Start celebrating;

Right this way,

Your table's waiting.

What good's admitting

Some prophet of doom

To wipe every smile away.

Life is a cabaret, old chum,

So come to the cabaret!

I used to have this girlfriend,

Known as Elsie,

With whom I shared,

Four sordid rooms in Chelsea.

She wasn't what you'd call,

A blushing flower...

As a matter of fact,

She rented by the hour.

The day she died the neighbours

Came to snicker:

"Well, that's what comes,

From too much pills and liquor."

But when I saw her laid out like a queen,

She was the happiest corpse

I'd ever seen.

I think of Elsie to this very day.

I remember, how she'd turn to me and say:

"What good is sitting, all alone in you room?

Come hear the music play.

Life is a cabaret, old chum,

Come to the cabaret.

And as for me,

And as for me,

I made my mind up, back in Chelsea,

When I go: "I'm going like Elsie".

Start by admitting,

From cradle to tomb

It isn't that a long a stay.

Life is a cabaret, old chum,

It's only a cabaret, old chum

And I love a cabaret.

(From the musical "Cabaret")

About Colour I - On Dark Images

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Sat, 04 Aug 2007 13:41:13 +0000

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Why is Dark Art mostly dark? I mean, seriously.

 Why are so many modern [Western] visual artists still using certain hues and looks

to show darkness, evil, pain, misery and enigma? Generally speaking, most Dark Art

and "Alternative" Art has a dark look that responds to conceptions of colour (colour

biases) created hundreds of years ago. I'm talking about Western societies, clearly, in

 which Religion was ove-powering and religious dogmas were structured around a

'dyptich' that opposed evil/dark/black/left to God/clear/white/right.

 Shouldn't the modern artist be subverting terms?

Shouldn't the modern artist re-think the look of his/her work and express "darkness"

in a completely different way, in a bright or -even better- white way?

Shaun Tan: Illustration for Thought

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 11:06:50 +0000

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Shaun Tan is a Western Australian virtuous versatile illustrator, drawer, and painter. He's also a writer. He has a unique, fantastic & weird world full of unique cretures, poetic symbols and thoughtful stories.

What makes him brilliant is not only his techniche or the quality of his images, but the fact that he's able to use them to tell stories that go beyond the descriptive - the process of colonization of Europeans in Australia, immigration experiences, environmental issues, social issues, etc. And he does so in a charming entertaining unique way. Shaun Tan's depth of vision and artistic talent are quite rare and must be praised because when you've seen one of his books, you don't forget it.

His last book "The Arrival " is a story on immigration, and it is really amazing. It has won the "WA Premier's Prize and Children's book Award" for this year - a prize that somewhat belittles his talent, because this book isn't for children, quite the opposite. None of his books are.

The fact that some of them have no words is thrilling to me, like the first two images in The Red Tree and the whole The Arrival. They don't have any written story and invite the viewer to write it in his/her mind. This is very much my cup of tea. We are part of a society that literally lives on "visuality", and, despite so, most people are unable to see what they have in front of their eyes. They need the words to tell them the story. Images are swallowed as pills without a further thought. Art is consumed as instant coffee. So Shaun Tan is an oustanding exception to what we generally see in the world of illustration. He is not only visually great but also conceptually great, and double great - great the concepts that serve to create his books, and the concepts that each image transmits. That's thrilling to me.

His books can be expensive (at least in Australia), so if you have a good bookstore nearby, just peruse them on your feet for free. But it is worth the the money, if you have it. His books can be found at least in Australia, Spain, UK and France.

Otherwise, have a look to his website, which contains some of his images, notes and other info about editor houses in different countries, etc. It is great:

http://www.shauntan.net/

Some other info in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shaun_Tan

The Scorpio and the Frog

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Sun, 15 Jul 2007 14:06:26 +0000

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One day, a scorpion looked around at the mountain where he lived and decided that he wanted a change. So he set out on a journey through the forests and hills. He climbed over rocks and under vines and kept going until he reached a river.

The river was wide and swift, and the scorpion stopped to reconsider the situation. He couldn't see any way across. So he ran upriver and then checked downriver, all the while thinking that he might have to turn back.

Suddenly, he saw a frog sitting in the rushes by the bank of the stream on the other side of the river. He decided to ask the frog for help getting across the stream.

"Hellooo Mr. Frog!" called the scorpion across the water, "Would you be so kind as to give me a ride on your back across the river?"

"Well now, Mr. Scorpion! How do I know that if I try to help you, you wont try to kill me?" asked the frog hesitantly.

"Because," the scorpion replied, "If I try to kill you, then I would die too, for you see I cannot swim!"

Now this seemed to make sense to the frog. But he asked. "What about when I get close to the bank? You could still try to kill me and get back to the shore!"

"This is true," agreed the scorpion, "But then I wouldn't be able to get to the other side of the river!"

"Alright then...how do I know you wont just wait till we get to the other side and THEN kill me?" said the frog.

"Ahh...," crooned the scorpion, "Because you see, once you've taken me to the other side of this river, I will be so grateful for your help, that it would hardly be fair to reward you with death, now would it?!"

So the frog agreed to take the scorpion across the river. He swam over to the bank and settled himself near the mud to pick up his passenger. The scorpion crawled onto the frog's back, his sharp claws prickling into the frog's soft hide, and the frog slid into the river. The muddy water swirled around them, but the frog stayed near the surface so the scorpion would not drown. He kicked strongly through the first half of the stream, his flippers paddling wildly against the current.

Halfway across the river, the frog suddenly felt a sharp sting in his back and, out of the corner of his eye, saw the scorpion remove his stinger from the frog's back. A deadening numbness began to creep into his limbs.

"You fool!" croaked the frog, "Now we shall both die! Why on earth did you do that?"

The scorpion shrugged, and did a little jig on the drownings frog's back.

"I could not help myself. It is my nature."

Then they both sank into the muddy waters of the swiftly flowing river

(Although this Aesop’s’ fable has been used to explain many things related to Politics, Terrorism, etc. what makes this fable one of my favs ever is the fact that shows 1/ Than One must be oneself and accept his/her uniqueness, virtues and defects, it is called self-acceptance. 2/ Moreover, it shows in a simple way that if you are true to yourself everybody can see that, and if your are not, too… except if everybody wants to be blind. 3/ Facts are more important than words. Our acts will show what we are, no matter what we say… sometimes they go together and that’s great.)

The Weight of Smoke

nobody@ipernity.com (Oniric Mermaid) — Fri, 06 Jul 2007 11:56:17 +0000

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> Once, he made a bet with her that he could measure the weight of smoke.

>You mean, weigh smoke?

>Exactly. Weigh smoke.

>You can't do that. It's like weighing air.

>I admit it's strange. Almost like weighing someone's soul.

But Sir Walter was a clever guy. First, he took an unsmoked cigar and put it

on a balance and weighed it. Then he lit up and smoked the cigar, carefully

tapping the ashes into the balance pan. When he was finished, he put the butt

into the pan along with the ashes and weighed what was there. Then he subtracted

that number from the original weight of the unsmoked cigar. The difference was

the weight of the smoke.

(From the script of the movie “Smoke” written by Paul Auster and directed by Wayne Wan.

One of my fav movies ever. )