This is for my upcoming show at School 33. The banner reads “Until Death Us Do Part, Yet Forever in the Heart.” This is an old soap case, which I presume once held soap. This scene shows the initial reunion of dead lovers in the Land of the Dead.
Thy body is a temple. Here are some of the deities found there, anthropomorphized for your connivence in a vintage laxative tin.
I’m sure I don’t have to explain this. Especially not the Virgin Thumbnail or Nosetradamus. I’m sure you aren’t going to ask.
No one is lonely in the Land of the Dead.
This is part two of “In the Eye of the Beholder,” where I consider the mourning aspect of “eye miniatures.” It would be a fine thing if we could still visit with our Loves by gazing into their painted eye portrait, should we become separated by the veil of physical mortality.
Here, we have a street scene at the Port Authority of the Land of the Dead (inside another eye rinse cup) complete with hanging skull lanterns, musicians and the smallest raccoon I’ve yet to draw.
In 1785, Prince George of Wales fell in love with Maria Fitzherbert, a commoner. Because their love was forbidden, they had miniatures of their eyes painted for one another. They would carry these everywhere so that they could always gaze deeply into them without fear of being caught by the royal family. Even though Prince George was married to someone else, he was buried wearing Maria’s eye painting around his neck. Eye miniatures, or Lover’s Eyes, remained popular through Victorian times. They eventually took on a morbid quality and were worn as mourning jewelry (more on that here).
There’s something very appealing about carrying a part of your Love with you everywhere you go.
I’m participating in a show of eye miniatures in Germany. This diorama is in a vintage eye rinse cup; a beautiful woman as seen in her lover’s eye. The iris is translucent.
A diorama I did on vacation. It truly looks many, many times better in person. This scene shows the making of a ghoul. He is fresh from an open grave, having just lost his skin. We’ll see more from this fellow shortly.
Dr. F was captured by a dead grackle. All birds like shiny things, and dead grackles are no exception (Paper cut-outs in herring tin). More on Dr. F can be found in this previous post.
The early works of Dr. F have faded into history, are obscured by obtuse writings and generally are ignored by the initiates of magical study. His name has been hidden and he is only referred to as Dr. F or just “F.”
In his day, F had dealings with surgeons (and the medical establishment of the time) and various other ghouls. He was an amateur taxidermist, medical transcriptionist and parlor magician – it’s unclear how successful he was in his various pursuits. We can infer that one of F’s experiments went terribly wrong, as he kept detailed notes of his works up to a specific date – December 14th, 190?. He started a journal entry on the following day (12/15/190?) that contains two lines and then abruptly and mysteriously ended (more on that in a future post). NOTE: I’m placing the year somewhere in 190X – his journals do not specify a year but other clues make one think it was sometime around then.
The scene above took place in December a few years earlier – his great ambition was to become a conjurer and nearly all of F’s experiments, including the scene above with the giant tick, focused on that skill.