Saturday, August 30, 2014

August 30, 2014



August 30, 2014

All artists aim at creating their own world. What makes them a good artist is their ability to be pleased with their vision when it now comes to life. I have consistently been intrigued with Victor Frankenstein, because he had a vision, and he failed.  Decay is an interesting subject in itself.  I often buy fruit, such as a banana, not to eat, but to see it die.  Although technically fruits are dead when they arrive in your kitchen or at the market, but to me to see it in such a beautiful shape and then, over a short period of time, turn ugly, and ripe with goo, which is almost like blood, and it's a fascinating process for me.  Frankenstein appears to be not that much into life, but more of watching the decay in action, and having that figure (his monster) commenting on the decay of life.



One of Doctor Frankenstein’s major influences was Paracelsus, who lived in Swiss Germany from 1493 to 1541.  An occultist, but one who didn’t study from manuscripts, but from nature and life in front of him.  He gave zinc its name, and also discovered that some diseases are rooted in psychological illness.  With that inspiration, Frankenstein collected body parts from various grave yards, to see if he can bring dead tissue back to life.  He eventually succeeds, but alas, his sense of the aesthetic and design was bad.  The “creature” turned out ugly.  Very ugly.

Seeing his invention come to life, and not to his liking, he flees the creature.  In a true sense he’s the father who leaves the child, but even worse, he doesn’t provide for the creation that he created. Alone, Frankenstein’s “monster” demands that he makes him a mate, a female that he can be with.  He does, but the “good” doctor destroys his creation, realizing that he started a new race.  With that in mind, his monster swears that he will destroy him and anyone he comes in contact with.   So what we are confronted with is revenge, stupidity, and passion to create something that wasn’t there before.



I’m often jealous that I have never created a character (besides myself) that either makes their own world, or at the very least, have some importance to the world out there.  I never loved Robert Crumb, but I have consistently admired the fact that he presented a landscape that is so full of his characters, and even has a soundtrack attached to those images.   Eros becomes one’s world, if they just focus and concentrate on making that world.  I don’t accept a lot of his imagery, but that is perfectly fine, because one can enter or leave the entrance to one’s desire.  There is always an exit, but unlike Victor Frankenstein, he didn’t make a proper exit for his invention.



The role of the dandy is to re-make the world into their own vision.  This is sometimes not a workable solution, nevertheless, an adventure does come out of the process.   The art of it is to embrace your creation, and feed and entwine oneself around it no matter what the cost is. For inspiration, I look upon Joan Blondell in “Gold Diggers of 1933.  A citizen of the depression, she makes efforts to embrace a new career in illusion, which is the essence of show business - to make a world that really doesn’t exist, to actually exist.  Every day, every hour - I work hard to exist, and I appreciate the spirit that wants to create, but again, it is the art of living.  Some are masters, and some are just failures.  But one can learn from both positions.
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