The Curse of Larry Talbot/A.K.A. the WolfMan Mask

One thing about monsters — they rarely choose monstrosity. More often, it’s a side effect: a curse, a punishment, or some ill-fated gift from the universe. Most of them don’t want to be the beasts they’ve become.

And perhaps no creature captures that tragic twist better than the werewolf — the lycanthrope. An everyday person for most of the month, until the full moon clocks in and says, “Your shift starts now.” Then it’s claws out, conscience off. They transform into a wolf — or something awkwardly halfway there — depending on the legend.

Sometimes they’re cursed for a misdeed. Other times, bitten and doomed to continue the hairy lifestyle. The cruelest versions say the lycanthrope hunts the one they love most… only to awaken at dawn and realize what they’ve done.

You may have seen the film “The Wolf Man” starring Lon Chaney Jr. stars as Larry Talbot is cursed after being bitten by a werewolf Bela Lugosi, and then spends the rest of his film being wolf by moonlight, sad guy by day.

A Howling History

Werewolves have been prowling through myth since the Greeks cooked up the first one — quite literally. King Lycaon decided to test Zeus’s divine palate by serving him a special supper that turned out to be distinctly people-flavored. The god took one bite, realized the roast was of the human variety, and absolutely lost his thunder.

Dinner was canceled.

The chef was cursed.

And voilà — the world’s first werewolf.

From there, the legend spread across continents. Sometimes it’s punishment. Sometimes a birthright. Sometimes… just a bad night out during a full moon.

The Human Beneath the Howl

Of course, there’s a more metaphoric way to look at the werewolf. We all have our lunar side — the thing that drags us out of our civilized shell and into something wilder, freer, maybe even truer.

For some, it’s a transformation under moonlight.

For others, it’s just a late-night art session that gets a little out of hand.

Either way, when the moon calls — answer.

Just try not to serve your friends for dinner.

Studio Note

Today’s beast: “The Larry Talbot Mask.”

Built from bits and bidding — a mad scientist foray of forgotten hardware and impulse finds. The mask’s mount bits of wood, saw handle for a mouth and layers of paint bring out the snarl, the sorrow, and the Saturday-matinee nostalgia of Lon Chaney Jr.’s classic wolfman.

Made under a waxing moon, still howling quietly in the corner of the studio.

🎃 deMeng’s Haunted October Movie Schedule

31 Nights, 62 Films, Double Features All Month Long

October’s here, which means it’s time to dim the lights, rattle a few chains, and cozy up with some cinematic spookery. Instead of carving just one pumpkin, I carved out a whole calendar — 31 nights, 62 films, a double feature every evening. Think of it as my haunted movie house: a mix of old monsters, Hammer glamour, folk horror weirdness, slashers with sharp cutlery skills, and even a little gallows humor to keep you laughing nervously in the dark.

Some films are classics you probably know by heart. Others might crawl out of the shadows and surprise you. By Halloween night we’re going full blockbuster Gothic — a brand-new Nosferatu paired with The Shining — because if you’re going to end the month with a bang, it might as well be an axe through the door.

So grab your popcorn, pour something strong, and settle in. Here’s what i’ll be playing this October…

Week 1: The Birth of Horror (1930s–50s)

Back when monsters were stitched together under lightning, capes were fashionable, and Lugosi’s stare could stop a room cold. Most of these scream in glorious black-and-white, but by the end of the week horror starts flirting with color — from Vincent Price’s lurid Poe sets to a giant fly head in shocking technicolor.

• Wed, Oct 01 – Islands of the Damned:

  Colonial nightmares with voodoo, mad science, and Bela Lugosi’s hypnotic eyes — tropical paradise, this is not.

  • White Zombie (1932)

  • Island of Lost Souls (1932)

• Thu, Oct 02 – It’s Alive!:
  Karloff grunts, Elsa screams, and James Whale proves lightning really can strike twice.

  • Frankenstein (1931)

  • Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

• Fri, Oct 03 – Eternal Night:
  Universal’s undead icons take turns brooding in capes and bandages — eternal love never looked so gloomy.

  • Dracula (1931)

  • The Mummy (1932)

• Sat, Oct 04 – Men in the Shadows:
  One cursed to howl at the moon, the other cursed to streak through town — both unforgettable monsters of man

  • The Wolf Man (1941)

  • The Invisible Man (1933)

• Sun, Oct 05 – Poe & Madness:
  Karloff and Lugosi in two duels of sadism and Poe obsession — Gothic melodrama with extra eyeliner.

  • The Black Cat (1934)

  • The Raven (1935)

• Mon, Oct 06 – Steele the Scene:
  Barbara Steele becomes Gothic royalty — one minute tortured by Vincent Price, the next resurrected as a witch.

  • Pit and the Pendulum (1961)

  • Black Sunday (1960)

• Tue, Oct 07 – Mad Science & Obsession:
  A bug-eyed tragedy meets Peter Lorre’s creepy surgeon hands — science goes mad, again.

  • The Fly (1958)

  • Mad Love (1935)

Week 2: Gothic Elegance (Hammer, Italian & Amicus)

By the late ’50s, horror was tired of shadows and grayscale. Hammer splashed technicolor blood across stone castles, Italy dressed witches and killers in high fashion, and Amicus filled the gaps with anthology mischief. If Week 1 was a séance, Week 2 is the costume ball.

• Wed, Oct 08 – Hammer Strikes Back:

  Cushing, Lee, and technicolor gore — Hammer reinvents the monsters with crimson flair.

  • The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) &

  • Horror of Dracula (1958)

• Thu, Oct 09 – Hammer’s Strange Beasts:
  A petrifying Medusa tale and a swashbuckling vampire slayer — Hammer at its weirdest and wildest.

  • The Gorgon (1964)

  • Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter (1974)

• Fri, Oct 10 – Italian Gothic Shadows: Blood and Black Lace (1964) + Suspiria (1977)
  From masked killers in couture to witches in neon nightmare hues — Bava and Argento turn horror into art.

• Sat, Oct 11 – Anthology of Evil:
  Tarot cards of doom and a house with too many secrets — Amicus production proves more stories = more screams.

  • Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors (1965)

  • The House That Dripped Blood (1971)

• Sun, Oct 12 – Gothic Revival:
  Burton’s fog-drenched fairytale meets Coppola’s operatic fever dream — baroque Gothic in full bloom.

  • Sleepy Hollow (1999)

  • Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)

• Mon, Oct 13 – Fairytales in the Dark:
  Guillermo del Toro’s ghosts meet a modern werewolf curse — lush Gothic nightmares, old and new.

  • Crimson Peak (2015)

  • The Cursed (2021)

Week 3: Folk Horror, Witchcraft & Possession

The horror moves outdoors — and into the family tree. Here be bonfires, wicker men, cursed children, and goats with suspiciously persuasive voices. Witches and devils aren’t hiding under the bed anymore — they’re waiting in the fields, in the woods, and sometimes in the nursery.

• Tue, Oct 14 – Pesky Pagans:

  Two sunlit cult classics — maypoles, bonfires, and the smiling face of sacrifice.

  • The Wicker Man (1973)

  • Midsommar (2019)

• Wed, Oct 15 – Curses in the Woods:

  Lost hikers and weeping ghosts — the forest doesn’t forgive, it feeds.

  • The Ritual (2017) +

  • La Llorona (2019)

• Thu, Oct 16 – Devil’s Due:

  From cradle to crucifix — the devil always has a family plan.

  • Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

  • The Exorcist (1973)

• Fri, Oct 17 – Children of the Damned:

  One child’s the Antichrist, the others are creepy blond telepaths — either way, babysitting’s a nightmare.

  • The Omen (1976)

  • Village of the Damned (1960)

• Sat, Oct 18 – Witch’s Curse:
  Family drama, goat drama, and treehouse drama — the devil’s in the domestic details.

  • Witch (2015)

  • Hereditary (2018)

• Sun, Oct 19 – Domestic Demons:
  Haunted basements and pop-up books that won’t stay shut — parenting is hell.

  • The Conjuring (2013)

  • The Babadook (2014)

• Mon, Oct 20 – Del Toro’s Dark Fairytales:
  Ghosts of war, lost children, and monsters both human and otherwise — del Toro paints with shadows.

  • The Devil’s Backbone (2001)

  • Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

Week 4: Slashers, Werewolves & Apocalypse (1960s–80s)

Say goodbye to candlelit castles — horror has moved to the suburbs, the graveyard, and outer space. This is the era of kitchen knives, hockey masks, full moons, flesh-eating ghouls, and parasites from the stars. In other words: the blood flows faster, the monsters snarl louder, and the popcorn buckets overflow.

• Tue, Oct 21 – Psycho Visions:

  Bathroom screams and Venetian nightmares — psychological horror never looked sharper.

  • Psycho (1960)

  • Don’t Look Now (1973)

• Wed, Oct 22 – Masked Mayhem:
  Suburban nightmares with kitchen knives and camp counselors — slashers at their sharpest.

  • Friday the 13th (1980)

  • Halloween (1978)

• Thu, Oct 23 – Full Moon Frights:
  Dueling werewolf transformations — the fur flies and the effects still bite.

  • The Howling (1981)

  • An American Werewolf in London (1981)

• Fri, Oct 24 – Dead Rising:
  From slow shamblers in a farmhouse to rage-fueled chaos in an empty London — zombies never really stay dead, they just get faster.

  • Night of the Living Dead (1968)

  • 28 Days Later (2002)

• Sat, Oct 25 – Invasion of the Uncanny:
  Paranoia in the cold and paranoia in the city — who’s human, who’s not, who cares?

  • The Thing (1982)

  • Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)

• Sun, Oct 26 – Houses of Tricks & Traps:
  Two deceptive houses full of sinister games — one rigged by Lovecraftian gods, the other by Vincent Price.

  • Cabin in the Woods (2011)

  • House on Haunted Hill (1959)

• Mon, Oct 27 – Graveyard Oddities:
  Chainsaws, boomsticks, and flying spheres — horror goes pulp and never looks back.

  • Army of Darkness (1992)

  • Phantasm (1979)

Final Stretch: Cult, Comedy & Halloween Night

After a month of monsters, it’s time to get strange. Horror sings, dances, and cracks jokes before bowing out with a blockbuster finale. Vampires get stylish, corpses get wisecracks, and on Halloween night, we close the curtain with a brand-new Nosferatu alongside The Shining. Because if you’re going to say goodnight, say it with fangs and an axe.

• Tue, Oct 28 – Madcap Macabre:
  Monsters and murder get the screwball treatment — slapstick, graveyards, and gallows humor galore.

  • Young Frankenstein (1974)

  • Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

• Wed, Oct 29 – Strange & Unusual:

  Time warps, sandworms, and ghoulish show tunes — horror gets its sequins on.

  • Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)

  • Beetlejuice (1988)

• Thu, Oct 30 – Vampires Just Wanna Have Fun:
  ’80s vamps with perfect hair — part horror, part MTV, all fangs and leather jackets.

  • Fright Night (1985)

  • The Lost Boys (1987)

• Fri, Oct 31 – Gothic Blockbuster Finale:
  A brand-new vampire legend followed by Kubrick’s haunted masterpiece — Halloween ends with fangs and an axe through the door.

  • Nosferatu (2024)

  • The Shining (1980)

Curtain Call

That’s 31 nights, 62 films, and one very full candy bowl. From tuxedoed monsters to technicolor witches, from pagan bonfires to suburban slashers, it’s a month-long tour of horror’s shadowy corridors.

So dust off the projector (or just your couch), mix yourself a cocktail worthy of Vincent Price, and let October work its haunted magic.

Happy haunting. 🍿👻

Quick...Into My Spiderman Costume!

When I was a wee lad living in Hawaii, summer was a carefree time. Days meant playing at the beach with my white styrofoam surfboard, biking to Dairy Queen for a chocolate-dipped cone, chasing geckos around the house, and filling sketchbooks with drawings—usually monster stories that ended in dramatic finales of lasers and explosions.

Ah, those wonderfully “lazy” months of June, July, and August. Lazy, of course, was a misnomer. By adult standards, racing Hot Wheels and climbing banyan trees may not have been productive, but it was a season when everything was possible if the mind conceived it.

I remember one afternoon at my friend Gus’s house. He opened the door dressed in a Superman costume. Maybe it was a Halloween preview, maybe not, but either way, I felt a bit out of place in my red-and-blue striped shirt. My mind scrambled. Gus boomed, “I am Superman, faster than a speeding bullet!”

I replied, “Well, I wore my Spider-Man costume.”

The colors matched, but would he buy it? After a skeptical squint, Gus broke into a grin, and off we went—leaping from couches, battling villains, the shag carpet transformed into molten lava.

How simple it was to change the world: a blink, a striped shirt, a bit of imagination, and suddenly the universe was transformed.

I admit, I’m envious of that younger self. Part of the reason I followed an artistic path was, perhaps, a desperate attempt to hang onto that childlike view. Art has given me a way to build entire worlds from whim, thought, and whatever medium is at hand.

Of course, September always arrived with its sobering reality: school. Suddenly, those long adventures were relegated to afternoons and weekends. Each year, the sacred time of play seemed to diminish as adulthood tightened its grip.

The artist’s solution is simple—and difficult. Ritual. A devotion to making. Creativity is easily pushed aside for “more important” things, but for those who value imagination, that’s doom. Even twenty minutes a day—like a daily vitamin—can keep you in tune with your younger self.

Because Spider-Man outfits don’t come from the store—they come from dresser drawer and a good imagination.

Paint That Doesn't Suck: A Love Letter to Kroma Acrylics

You don’t really know your art supplies until you’ve tried to build a shrine out of driftwood, a baby doll arm, and two rusty keys—with a dozen curious students watching, the clock ticking, and your paintbrush shimmying over unfamiliar surfaces.

Just another day for me….

Here’s the thing: no matter how organized the space or how well-behaved the glue, you still need materials that show up. Paint that doesn’t crack, fade, flake, or suddenly turn the color of disappointment. You need paint that doesn’t suck.

Enter: Kroma Acrylics.

Now, I don’t usually get evangelical about my supplies (unless I’ve had two mezcals and someone casually insults matte gel medium). But Kroma? That’s different. These paints are made—by hand—in a small studio on Granville Island, right here in Vancouver. No filler. No mystery binders. No pigment pulled out of a Crayola crime scene. Just rich, vibrant, lightfast color mixed with actual care by actual humans.

And that matters.

Because I’ve tried the cheap stuff. We all have. You’re halfway through a demo and someone pulls out “Lemon Sunrise Yummy Yellow” that looks like it was milked from a Muppet. The kind of paint that dries three shades lighter and feels like regret.

Kroma paints, though? They stay true. They behave. They want to play nice with your washes, your glazes, and in my case, all the layers of grit and grime of my found object substrates.

And the ethics? That’s part of the magic. They don’t cut corners. Their pigments are sourced with an eye toward safety and sustainability. Their packaging is thoughtful. Their team is small but mighty—and they give a damn about what they make and who they make it for. This isn’t some factory-churned sludge. This is small-batch brilliance with a West Coast soul.

Some of my forever-faves?

·       Benzi Burnt Orange – Earthy but electric. The color of oxidized joy.

·       Transparent Red Oxide – Like rust made poetry. Glazes like a dream.

·       Cobalt Teal – Oceanic and mysterious. The siren song of pigments.

·       Vancouver Grey – Moody, quiet, and cool as a foggy stare.

·       Cadmium Chartreuse – Loud in all the right ways. Toxic in the best possible sense.

·       Quinacridone Red – Think velvet heartbreak and opera curtains.

·       Phthalo Blue – Deep, wild, and just a little unhinged.

·       Dioxazine Violet – Regal and witchy. Perfect for haunted shadows.

·       Carbon Black – Black that means it. The full eclipse of pigment.

·       Arylide Yellow – Warm, friendly, and surprisingly sly.

And that’s just the shortlist.

So here’s my unsolicited advice, fellow junk-art conjurers: treat your paint like you treat your tools. With respect, curiosity, and a little bit of reverence. Go for the good stuff. The stuff with a story. The stuff that’s been mixed, tested, and bottled by folks who actually care what it looks like after it dries.

Because life’s too short—and art’s too weird—for bad pigment.

And say “Hi” to Niko if you stop in.

How Tell the Difference Between a Krampus and a Perchten

As the Holidays quickly approach it won’t be long before the streets are rampant with devilish creatures. Now I’m not talking about Halloween…that event is done and dusted for the season, rather if you live in Germanic areas you might come across a Krampus Lauf or a Perchten Run. In both case craved demons roam the streets in early December.

To the unenlightened, the Krampus devils and the Perchten devils are one in the same, but that just isn’t the case. They may look similar but they have different rolls to play in the weeks before Xmas.

Krampus?

Perchten?

Perchten

• ORIGIN: Straight outta the Alpine mountains, Austria’s own spooky squad,

• APPEARANCE: Imagine your worst bad hair day, add a whole lot of fur, horns and perhaps some tusks only a mother could love,

• CLOTHING: Fur, chains, and a sack of sticks—Krampus keeps it classic

• BEHAVIOR: Roams in packs, scaring evil spirits and delighting (or terrifying) festival-goers. Usually accompanied by angels (Schönperchten…beautiful Perchten).

• SEASONAL TIMING: Hits the scene for the Perchtenlauf in early January, just in time to ring in the New Year.

• SYMBOLISM: Represents the “ugly” side of winter, scaring away the shadows for a fresh start. Sort of gargoyle of winter

• ROLE IN FOLKLORE: The dark cousins of the beautiful Schönperchten, they’re the winter bouncers of Alpine folklore.

• MODERN POPULARITY: Big in Europe’s wild winter festivals, where scary is stylish.

Krampus

• ORGIN: Hangs out in Austria and Alpine hills, the dark buddy to St. Nick.

• APPEARANCE: Picture a mix of demon, goat, and the guy you’d least want to meet under the mistletoe…but who am I to judge?

• CLOTHING: Animal skins, a dash of greenery, and a whole lot of bells…you can’t have too much cowbell.

• BEHAVIOR: Loves a good chase! Krampus is known to “playfully” go after the crowd on Krampusnacht, especially children. Watch out ye naughty children cuz the Xmas devil is coming.

• SEASONAL TIMING: All about the holiday season on December 5th—Krampusnacht. If it’s later that that it’s probably not Krampus

• SYMBOLISM: The ultimate holiday enforcer, reminding everyone to be nice…or else Krampus will come a knockin’.

• ROLL IN FOLKLORE: Jolly Ol’ Saint Nicholas’s horned ( and long tongued) sidekick, bringing balance to the holiday cheer with some good old-fashioned fear.

• MODERN POPULARITY: Krampus fever has spread globally with parades, costumes, and plenty of memes

My Annual Krampus Ornament Sale Starts Saturday Nov 23

This Year’s Theme: The Perchten - Mysterious and Grim Super Heroes of the Solstice

After so many years of making Krampuses I decided I’d had a superhero vibe to this years batch into unlikely good guys. This year’s collection isn’t into punishment of naughties, but rather will keep the evil spirits of Winter at bay….everyone needs a little bit of that I think.

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Amazing Loteria Cards! Now in the 3 Dimensions!

If you’ve ever been to Mexico or perhaps a Mexican market, you might have come across a colorful array of cards depicting a variety of people, places, and things, each with its associated Spanish word. Originally, I thought these cards were used for some sort of divination. While some folks have found a way to use them for soothsaying, their actual use is for a bingo game. Regardless of how one uses these cards, they are a wonderful bit of Mexican pop culture.

Loteria, which translates to “lottery,” dates back to the 15th century, originally making its way to Mexico from Italy and Spain. The game involves a deck of 54 cards, each featuring a distinct image, such as “El Gallo” (The Rooster), “La Sirena” (The Mermaid), and “El Catrin” (The Dandy). Players mark their boards with beans, coins, or pebbles as a caller announces each card drawn from the deck. The first to complete a predetermined pattern shouts “Loteria!” and claims victory.

As an assemblage artist, I’m always tweaking everyday items into some weird new iteration. The idea of creating 3D Loteria cards was born from a desire to celebrate this iconic game while adding a new dimension—quite literally—and to do something with the piles of doodads laying around my studio. Traditional Loteria cards are already rich in symbolism and storytelling; adding a third dimension enhances their narrative power.

Admittedly, many of my cards stray from the original source and add a bit of my dark sense of humor, such as the “La Gemelas” (Twins) card I created, which is straight out of Stephen King’s “The Shining.”

As it turns out I’ll be selling my latest series on my website starting August 10th. So mark you calendars and swing on by website to get your own 3d Loteria card. https://www.michaeldemeng.com/loteriasale2024

The Oily Devils and Other Strange Happenings of Carnival

Last week, I shared my love affair with the city of Oaxaca. This week, I want to dive deeper into an event that stands out as one of the most unique spectacles I’ve ever witnessed.

Oaxaca is surrounded by artisan villages on all sides, each with its own charm and traditions. One such village is San Martín Tilcajete, renowned for its fascination with spirit animals and the fantastical carved and painted creatures known as alebrijes.

During Shrove Tuesday (aka Fat Tuesday), this usually serene artisan village transforms into a whirlwind of activity. A wild procession of devils and other beastly costumes meanders through the dusty roads. As this serpentine parade moves toward the town square, it gathers more revelers along the way. Eventually, the procession reaches the town center, where devils of all kinds dance and frolic in a mock wedding. It’s a wonderfully insane event, unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

So, why do these devils run free every year? In modern times, this event is linked to Christianity as a prelude to Lent. Fasting and repentance are central themes, making Carnival a final opportunity to eat, drink, and be merry. However, there’s a deeper, local aspect to this celebration. Spirit animals are integral to the people of San Martín, evident in their creation of alebrijes. The Zapotec people believe in guardian animals and have a zodiac similar to the Chinese zodiac. Therefore, the devils in the streets may not just represent evil but also the animalistic side of humans and their connection to the wild kingdom of beasts.

The event is a delight for anyone who enjoys parades, costumes, and music. A word of caution, though: it can get messy. Some of the devils (or “oily boys” as I call them) are covered in oil or paint. If you decide to join the dance, you might end up with the oily mark of the devil—a small price to pay for such a memorable experience.

So earlier this year I ran a  retreat in Oaxaca during this mayhem.  I am excited to announce  I’ll be returning in 2025 and running a workshop that ties into the importance of spirit animals.   Next years class is called Los Sagrados Animales - Inspired by the rich tradition of saints and santos, we’ll reimagine these sacred icons, infusing them with the concept of spirit animals and the essence of beasts that speak to our souls.

If you interested in taking a walk on the wild side you can learn more here. https://mijamatriz.com/michael-demeng-carnival/

Take a Oaxac on the Wild Side

It’s probably no surprise to many of you that my favorite place on the planet to visit is Oaxaca. I return over and over again. Fortunately for me, the last couple of years, I’ve been able to run retreats there twice a year, giving me a bi-annual dose of its magic.

Oaxaca City, nestled in southern Mexico, is surrounded by ancient ruins and the architecture of Spanish colonialism. As beautiful as the city itself is (and it undoubtedly is), there is more to it that makes this place such a magical enigma.

My first trip to Oaxaca was in 1992. Fresh out of college and uncertain about what to do with my art degree, I decided to travel and see the world, but I had to consider my budget. Mexico seemed like a reasonable place to start, so I bought a ticket to Guadalajara and planned to work my way to the Pacific Coast. An art professor of mine, Don Bunse, encouraged me to go to Oaxaca instead. He had just returned from an art exchange, where Oaxacan printmakers visited Montana and vice versa. Don described it as a place where everything had a bit of magic. Every corner seemed to offer something unexpected and wonderful. He was so smitten with it that he aimed to move there, but unfortunately, Don passed away before he could make that a reality.

Taking his advice, I boarded a plane alone and traveled to Oaxaca. Upon arrival, I was overwhelmed. Don was 100 percent correct—Oaxaca is a sensory feast for the artist’s soul. The colors, textures, and vibrant energy of the markets breathe art, and every corner holds a new discovery. In many places, there seems to be a distinction between art and “the real world,” but not in Oaxaca. Art and the everyday are intertwined.

I remember coming through Oaxacan airport security with a suitcase full of art supplies and being stopped by a gruff man who asked about the tubes of paint. Nervously, I used one of the few Spanish words I knew at the time: “artisto.” He put his hand to his heart and started to swoon, saying a few things I didn’t understand, then exclaimed: “bueno.” Never in all my years of traveling has this ever happened to me anywhere else.

Oaxaca is a strange place where the past and present collide and co-mingle. The architecture and religious traditions from the Spanish conquests coexist with indigenous traditions of carving, weaving, and sculpting. Contemporary artists from Oaxaca seem to embrace this past, creating a continual ebb and flow of the ancient and the new, refreshing the arts in the area.

Perhaps what I love most about Oaxaca are the festivals: Day of the Dead, Guelaguetza, Carnival, and many others fill the calendar. Even on a seemingly uneventful day, there’s a reasonable chance of encountering a parade or fireworks.

Oaxaca does something to me. Each trip, I feel reborn, as if I’ve drunk from a Fountain of Youth—not one that defies age, but one that keeps my creativity youthful. And thus, time after time, I drink from its magical metaphoric waters.

When Fairytales Were Scarytales

Once upon a time, the world was filled with stories—magical tales of good versus evil. These early stories were not just about bad characters, but downright evil ones. Tales were woven to explore the harsh realities of life, addressing issues of injustice, violence, and ill deeds that often resulted in death.

There are several reasons why the legends and lore of old were so grim (or Grimm). First and foremost, life was hard and unyielding in its severity. Perhaps these tales were a way of preparing children for the hardships that awaited them, an eloquent way of saying, "Tough it out, kid...life can suck sometimes." These stories mirrored the struggles and dangers of real life, a life that included starvation, cold, people with malicious intent, and yes, wolves.

The stories also emphasized the consequences of misbehavior. If you went into the woods after dark, an evil witch might get you. The original "Red Riding Hood" ends with everyone getting eaten, teaching the moral: don’t talk to strangers or you’ll get gobbled up. In the original "Pied Piper," after he lures the rats out of the city for a fee, the townsfolk refuse to pay him, so he lures the children away, never to be seen again. The moral: don’t be greedy.

Many of these older stories were designed to frighten people into submission, warning children about the dangers of ideas and influences outside the community. The implicit message was to stay close to home, do your chores, and the community would protect you. While it’s hard to pragmatically argue with that, the world is a big, exciting place. It can be dangerous, but sometimes one must walk into the dark woods.

The problem with some of these more insular tales is that they negate the idea of the hero’s journey—a journey in which someone like Jack, of "Jack and the Beanstalk," turns his foolish whimsy into heroism and gains fortune. A more contemporary version would be Luke Skywalker, who disobeys his uncle and steps into a world of danger, ultimately gaining enlightenment and finally meeting his father.

During the Victorian era (1837-1901), many of these stories softened. They were rewritten in less severe and scary ways. "Red Riding Hood" was saved by the woodsman, and "Sleeping Beauty" is awakened by a kiss. While this may seem a bit inappropriate, try reading the original "Sun, Moon, and Talia"—that is some seriously dark stuff. In the end, these stories were designed to be less horrifying but still impart lessons of good versus evil.

I suppose I understand the Disneyfication of fairytales. Who wants their children to be fearful all the time? But I will say that as an adult, I find those darker, scarier tales fiendishly fun. Even as an adult, you might want to leave the light on after reading them.

And they all lived happily ever after...or did they?

Postscript:

If you’re interested in fairytales, I'm just about to run a new online assemblage workshop entitled “Fractured Fairytales”. Using found objects create story panels, each panel a portal into a different realm of the fairy tale. I would love to have you join the fun!

The Mysterious Box of Mengs

In a delightful twist of fate, my wife Andrea recently unveiled a treasure trove from the depths of history—a vintage pastel set nestled within an old rickety box. But the real intrigue lay within its German label which translates: "Mengs Pastel Colors, based on the original recipes of Raphael Mengs." Hmmmm… who was this dude Raphael Mengs? And could he be the key to unlocking hidden family fortunes?  Sure sure the name is a bit different…but maybe?

As I delved into the labyrinth of ancestry, it became clear that Raphael Mengs, or Anton Raphael Mengs to be precise, was no distant relative poised to leave me a windfall. Born in 1728 in Bohemia, he was an influential figure in the 18th-century German neoclassical movement. In fact Mengs graced the courts of Europe with his fancy pants brushstrokes and insights into color theory.His portraits, were gazed at by kings and queens.  And as I viewed his work for the first time. I could definitely see that his work was perfect castle fare, mostly portraits hoity toitys in their finery.

As for his style…Mengs was a meister of muted colors…nothing to garish.  The colors very  soft and gently, which was appropriate given that his color theories embraced the ideas of a easy going and harmonious relationship between colors.  No big “wows”.  If I sound derogatory about his work I don’t mean to be.  It is actually quite lovely.

Now back to the box   The pastel set now housed only 8-10 worn-down sticks, none of which seemed to belong to the original collection. Ironically, the colors now residing in Mengs’ palette—the maestro of muted tones—were mostly vibrant hues. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be rolling in his grave at the sight.

As a final note…I did find plenty of Mengs’ work that wouldn’t be what I would consider muted. He did some rather vibrant work. Below are two versions of the goddess Diana. Did he eventually abandon his treatise on color theory…perhaps a good paying benefactor requested a bit more zing on his pallette, or perhaps because people found him dull…badumpah.

Orpheus Descends

If I were to come up with a metaphor that best describes my artistic process, I would refer you to the Greek legend of Orpheus. For those unfamiliar, the basic story goes that Orpheus was quite the musician – he was astute at the lute. It was said that his skills mesmerized all living and immortal things.

So ol’ Orphie is in love with a gal named Eurydice and all is going swimmingly. One day, their wedding day, trouble came a-knockin’. She danced through a meadow to celebrate the nuptials when a slithery black viper bit her, killing her instantly. This, of course, sent Orpheus into a tailspin. In grief and despair, he sang and played the tunes that move the gods. So moved, in fact, that the gates of the Underworld were opened so that he could retrieve her. The god of the afterlife, Hades, agreed to free her, but only if, upon their exit, they walked single file, Orpheus in front, and Orpheus could not look back. For a while, he obliged, but doubt and fear that Hades had deceived him plagued his mind. Sure enough, he turned around… and poof, she was gone. He returned home with a sad face.

Okay, so what does this have to do with my artistic process? For me, working in the studio is never easy. It is always an intimidating venture, no matter how many times I do it, no matter how seemingly simple the task. For me, it feels like I am descending into unknown and hostile territory. Like Orpheus, I feel as if I must charm the guardians of the underworld with my skills and then convince them to give me something precious. The precious thing, in my case, is something artistic, both unique and inspirational. After arduously convincing the Underworld inhabitants (the subconscious) to release my Eurydice, I must bring it back to the physical world. And like Orpheus, who had to navigate the underworld’s bureaucracy to retrieve his love, I often find myself tangled in a web of art supplies, trying to negotiate with my inner demons for a stroke of inspiration. It’s like a cosmic game of ‘Let’s Make a Deal,’ except instead of Monty Hall, it’s me and my muse trying to strike a bargain over a cup of coffee in the studio. As for the turning around… well… for my metaphor, I always equated this with the fact that no matter how many pieces of art I make, I am never content. I feel like I missed something. So I return again and again.

Baron Munchausen...Creative Thinker

Pop Quiz: Name the legendary character who did all of the following feats?:

1. Riding a Cannonball to Safety…which he was able to steer because of his excellent horsemanship.

2. Escaping Swamp…which seems like no great feat, unless you consider he did it by grabbing his own hair and pulling himself up.

3. Reaching Into Fierce Wolf’s Mouth….and reaching its tail then pulling it inside out.

4. Travelling to the Moon…by lassoing the point of the crescent and pulling himself up.

5. Being Swallowed by a Sea Monster…and escaping by using his boat’s masts to prop open the beast’s mouth.

TIMES UP! PENCILS DOWN

The Answer: Baron von Munchausen.

And who is Baron Munchausen? I’m glad you asked. He is a fictional adventurer, but actually based on a real individual with a mouthful of a name… Karl Friedrich Hieronymus, Freiherr von Münchhausen (1720–1797). He was a German nobleman who served as a cavalry officer in the Russian military with a fondness for storytelling embellishing his own experiences with extravagant and fantastical details.

Later, a writer named Rudolf Erich Raspe embellished these tales to the nth degree and compiled a collection of stories known as "Baron Munchausen's Narrative of his Marvellous Travels and Campaigns in Russia.”

The Baron is the coolest, and to some degree, an idol. I guess you could say he has many of the traits I strive to have, many of which are crucial to being a successful artist. Obviously, he is a good problem solver, and of course, he is adept at thinking outside the box. Then there is his sense of playfulness and humor when it comes to solving those problems. And of course, he is a good storyteller…at least the "real" Baron was a good yarn spinner. Yes, it’s true I have been known to embellish for the sake of a good tale.

If you’ve never read the stories, you must….they are fun and ludicrous. And for those who are not readers, you can check out two films. Most recently is Terry Gilliam’s The Adventures of Baron Munchausen. This is a wondrous Hollywood film with a star-studded cast.

There is an earlier Czech version that is absolutely stunning and visually imaginative, by the director Karel Zeman. He didn’t have a big budget so he utilized some crazy techniques. There are a few documentaries about him out there and his other films are well worth checking out.

And if you’re ever in Prague…which I highly recommend…right next to the Charles Bridge is a small little museum that features a variety of props and replicas from Karel Zeman’s various film projects. As I said, it’s small, you can do it in about 30-45 minutes, but it’s a lot fun with various interactive gizmos.

So I was going to make this blog post a bit longer, but I have suddenly felt the need to climb up to the moon for teatime.

In the meantime you can check out a few of my found object assemblage interpretations of the Baron’s exploits.

The Baron Goes to the Moon

The Baron and the Large Fish

To The Victor Goes the Found Object - Assemblage and the Spoils of War

Grass skirt and coconut bra = assemblage? Hmmmm….I think not.

So, you may be sitting around wondering: What is the earliest example of assemblage or found objects in art? Maybe you’re not wondering that… it might be just me pondering those kinds of things. In any event, the answer to this lies in how you want to interpret the phrase ‘assemblage.’ The idea with assemblage is that an artist found objects that once had a particular function and then, after being discarded, they are utilized as a medium in a work of art. A transformation of something’s function and purpose. But wait a second, surely using an old iron as a shrine is an example, but what about a coconut shell bikini top? The shell had a function as a coconut, and now it’s a bikini top. A step further, you could say a basket made of grapevines is assemblage… or even further, that a painting on canvas is assemblage because the threads that make up a canvas came from the cotton plant. Well, after a while, you end up with the argument that everything is assemblage because everything came from something else, and while I agree with that from the standpoint of assemblage being a metaphor for the transformation inherent in the universe, that’s really how I view it. For me, I use the term to refer to ‘manmade’ items that are then repurposed.

Early 20th Century Assemblage aka Readymades by, Man Ray (left) and Marcel Duchamp(right)

So, back to the question, what was the earliest example of assemblage? Some say it is the works of Braque and Picasso in the early 1900s or perhaps Marcel Duchamp’s ‘readymades’ from around the same time. And though I don’t disagree that these are great examples of the beginning of assemblage and found objects being used in art… I think architecture had been using this process for centuries and centuries.

St. Donatus Zadar, Croatia

Spolia is the term used for the process of assemblage in architecture. The word’s etymology gives a hint as to how this was implemented… spolia means ‘spoils’ or ‘booty.’ It was the process of using art and architecture that had been demolished and using the remnants in new constructions. Sometimes this was pragmatic… why build a totally new column when you have a perfectly sound Roman column? Other times it was financial for much the same reason; after all, material like marble was cheap. Thus you get structures that are a little bit of this and a little bit of that. If you’ve ever been to Seville, Spain, a great example of that is the Giralda tower, which was originally constructed as a minaret during Islamic rule and then when Christians came to power it was modified, but still kept some of the original designs. Personally, I always find it fascinating when you have these styles intermingling.

“Portrait of Four Tetrarch” Venice, Italy. Plundered by Venetians in Constantinople in 1204 AD during the 4th Crusade and brought to Venice. A “neener neener” move if I ever saw one.

Another reason that spolia was used was psychological. Sometimes a culture wanted to taunt the previous culture, and by using bits and pieces of the previous regime’s structures, it was a way of saying ‘neener neener, you lost and we won.’ I remember, a jillion years ago, I was in a little village near Oaxaca and I noticed that the church had stones carved built into the exterior that were quite obviously from some pre-Hispanic structure. One carving was of a Zapotec eagle (if I remember correctly it was toward the top and it had bees flying in and out of a small crack… subsequently I was stung… but that’s another tale worthy of a blog post). A slight variation of the psychological use of spolia, especially in the case of religious sites, is that it was sometimes used as a way of coaxing the conquered into worshipping the ‘new’ gods. A conquering belief system might not seem so foreign if the old gods are present.

The thing is, there could be a variety of reasons spolia was used. It could be all or some of the previous reasons. In fact, it could be because something looked cool, so it was added in a wall or structure, though typically the ‘looked cool’ reason is less documented.

So next time you’re traveling in a land with a long history of variant empires, keep your eyes open. More likely than not, you’re surrounded by early examples of assemblage.

The Cyclops: Season Two of my Podcast Episode Resources:

Hey gang, after long last just started recording season 2 of my Podcast, Strange Tales of Myth and Magic. This episode I take a big peek at a creature that has been influencing my art since I was a wee lad…the Cyclops.

You can take a listen hear:

The Cyclops that started it all for me. From The 7th Voyage of Sinbad

Polyphemus

The most famous Cyclops of all time, Polyphemus. He was a lover too…at least wanted to be long before he started gobbling up sailors.

Kasa-Obake

Here’s a super bizarre creature from Japanese legend the parasol spirit called Kasa-obake. It's a warning to not throw things out if they are still usefull.

A Kasa Obake in the film 100 Monsters.

Medusa - Sympathy for the Gorgon

This weeks podcast I explore the snakey haired villain Medusa. But is she really a villain? Check out the podcast and see:

Check out the podcast here:

Medusa: Sympathy for the Gorgon Episode 11

The Gorgon

The Gorgon -1961

The Gorgon 1961

In the 1960s Hammer produced a cheesy but cool film about a sister of Medusa. Funny yet mesmerizing snake effects

Madame Leota - Haunted Mansion

Madame Leota - Haunted Mansion Disney Land

Though not a Gorgon, I sure thought she was when I was a kid. I suppose the fact she was missing her body and her wild hair led me to that assumption.

Ancient Greek Art

Perseus and Medusa 500 bc

Early Medusa 500 bc

Clash of the Titans 1981

Medusa - Clash of the Titans 1981

One of my absolute favourite films as a teen. The snake body was a nice touch but is actually more in line with one of her siblings than her descriptions.

Humbaba

Humbaba - 2nd Milenium BC

Humbaba is a Mesopotamian moster and perhaps the source of the Medusa legend. His looks could kill, was decapitated and his head was carried off and offered to a god in a satchel. Not to mention he is often depicted with a lions mane that sometimes look like intestines…perhaps snakes.

My Interpretation of Medusa

The Shield of Perseus 2014 36”x36”x10”

My entry into the Medusa myth comes from a large wooden gear mold.

Magical Realism

Perhaps my favorite style of art is what is called “magical realism”. To definitively define this term is a bit difficult because there are various degrees of it many works of art, but in a nutshell it is usually a study of an everyday situation and characters but with a bit of magic inserted into the mix. Often, though, it is difficult to tell whether these occurrences are genuine events or if they are metaphoric. It is this blurring of “what is real” which makes this style so intriguing .

Literature

There are so many great reads when it comes to this topic. 100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez is talked about the most, but here are my two favs:

Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse

This story takes place in Germany in the 1920s. The main character is a curmudgeonly guy named Harry Haller who describes himself as feeling split in two…part man, part wolf…metaphorically speaking. He feels out of place in the world he lives. Part of him wants to be wild and free but the cultured side of him beats him down when he does. And when he tries to be “civilized” he is attacked by his inner wolf. Now this definitely fits the magical realism box, but as novel progresses stranger things begin to happen, such as a magic theater that appears and disappears, and a strange book Harry finds which seems to be written just for him. When I first read this book I was 18 and I, like Harry, felt like a fish out of water in the world. So, in a way, I was reading a story about a man who finds a book that seems to be written about him, and while I’m reading it I kept thinking that I had found a book that was written about me. Trippy.

Life of Pi by Yann Martel

I read this book when I was in Oaxaca, Mexico, which is appropriate because I often think of that location as a place where magical thing could happen and you wouldn’t think twice about. The story takes place mostly on a lifeboat populated by a boy, a tiger and a few other animals that survived a wreck of a ship that was transporting zoo animals. Though it doesn’t sound like much of a story, it is a truly engrossing book cover to cover. Wonderous and heartbreaking. I should also mention the film is also wonderful. Not only a great story but filled with eye candy. I’d recommend reading the book first though…it’s sooo good.

Fine Art

In many ways I think many narrative paintings lean towards Magical Realism. The reason being that paintings/drawing are a single moment in time, and if they are trying to convey a story they often have to rely on symbolism.

“The Two Fridas” by Frida Kahlo

Frida Kahlo is perhaps my favorite Mexican artist and perhaps the poster child for this art form. Almost every piece of work that she created was a depiction of the painful world she struggled with both physically and psychologically. Her paintings are in many ways are more real because of the fantastical elements added. My favorite is “The Two Fridas”. This painting has been interpreted a number of ways, often referring to her dual heritage (her father was a German Jew and her mother was Mexican), in this case the Frida in white is the European self, which seems to be injured, while the Mexican Frida seems healthy. I tend to look at this works as an exploration of the physical pain she endured throughout her life as well as the emotional pain of her relationship with Diego Rivera.

Film

I have so many favorite films that could be included in this list but I decided to limit it to three:

Wings of Desire by Wim Wenders

What’s an angel living in West Berlin to do when day and and day out all he can do is watch and listen as the humanity feels and lives? This is the strange story of Damiel who wants to feel what it means to live, despite all the pain and suffering that mortals are prone to. One of the things that really adds to the Magical Realism is the periodic shift from black and white to color film, depending on the perspective…angels = b&w, human = color. Another great addition to this film is the inclusion of Peter Falk (you know, Columbo, Princess Bride) who plays himself…but apparently he was once an angel who took the plunge. Wunderbar.

Pan’s Labyrinth by Guillermo del Toro

It’s a dark time for a little girl named Ofelia, as her mother marries a sadistic fascist general. It is a fantasy that takes place in two worlds, a realm of magical beings like fairies and Pan, but also the wartime realm of the Spanish Civil War. Ironically, though, despite all the fantastical monsters she faces, it is the “real world” that seems to house the most horrific creatures. I love this film for a number of reasons. Firstly it is filled with some of the most wondrous beings ever thought up, but I also love that it shows this child trapped between a world that only she can see and what we call reality.

Amelie by Jean Pierre Jeunet

This is my fav. It is a tale about a young and very quirky woman, Amelie, who sees the world in her own unique way. Unlike some of the other entries, this film doesn’t necessarily have anything mystical happening. No ghosts, or fairies, etc. Instead it is the surreal use of color by the filmmaker that transforms everyday Paris into something delicious to watch. The other amazing aspect of this film how Amelie’s view of the world transforms it from mundane into something sublime.

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Honestly I’m not really certain if my work fits into this category or not. I suppose it could given that the “Magical Realism” covers a wide breadth of styles. I would say that perhaps I could sneak into the category because of my use of everyday items and turning them into something out of this world. A bit of a stretch…but I’ll go with it.

Behind the Mask

Masks have always fascinated me. Perhaps its the super heroes from my childhood, like Zorro and Batman, or perhaps it’s something deeper. Over the years I have participated in a number events where masks were integral to the event…ranging from Mardis Gras parades, to Halloween to Dia de los Muertos. Something happens when a person puts on a mask. There is a transformation. Perhaps a bit of psychology, or magic if you prefer, but I believe that masks open a doorway to another “you”. It allows the wearer to experience the world in a way that isn’t weighed down by the everydayness of the daily humdrum. Depending on the mask, someone can experience a world through another’s eyes. In other situations it can allow the wearer to experience a subconscious self; the part of a person that is always there but is often constrained by societal norms, prejudices, insecurities. Masks are ways of letting that hidden self free… for a bit…a way of playing without judgment.

Over the years I have created a number of masks…some wearable, some definitely not. In either case I see them as ways as exploring different worlds.

Non-wearable Masks

Weatherworn Bjorn - not wearable

Weatherworn Bjorn was created from an old wooden lantern and I decided to create a character that has weathered “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”. I think I see him as representation of aging. Getting beaten down by time but refusing to surrender.

The Green Knight - not wearable

The Green Knight is base on the Arthurian legend about a strange warrior from the woods who challenges one of the Round Table Knights. He is the symbol of the chaos of the natural world…often feared and misunderstood by humanity.

Moon Monster - not wearable

Moon Monster is a sentimental reminder of a cyclopian creature I drew in the first grade. It was a cyclops that lived on the moon. My story ended tragically for the Moon Monster…he was zapped by the laser of visiting astronauts…in all fairness he did crush their space ship.

The Guardian - non-wearable

The Guardian was a mask created from Grandfather clock parts. It’s design was heavily influenced by a Balinese deity called Barong. He is leader of the spirits and often you would see maskso of him over doorways. When driving in Bali his statue would often be present on bridges as a way of protection.

Flyboy - not wearable

Flyboy is a mask of transformation. It was created with the concept that nothing ever ever stays the same. In this case, a toy plane is turned into a mask but it really is an exploration of the way time is the great transformer.

La Mancha - non wearable

La Mancha is based on Don Quixote, the legendary dreamer. I based this on some of the wooden Quixote masks I saw while visit Guanajuato Mexico during the Cervantes festival.

Aunt Nancy, the Spider Woman - not wearable

Aunt Nancy/ Ananse is a god whose legends originated in Africa and evolved in Caribbean islands. She/he is usually a spider but can shape shift. He/she leads humanity to wisdom, but usually in indirect not so obvious ways. You must work for enlightenment.

The Lycanthrope - not wearable

The Lycanthrope is based on old werewolf legends. I’ve always found the werewolf itself to be a mask in a way. The human is trapped in societal norms but the wolf allows the “cursed” to be free to embrace one’s animalistic nature.

Polyphemus - not wearable

Polyphemus was a cyclops in Greek lore. He is the abductor of Odysseus in the Odyssey and usually depicted asnot very handsome and rather brutish. I have created many cyclopes through the years…perhaps it an homage to that Moon Monster I created in first grade…or perhaps it is an homage to the Cyclopses from the Sinbad movies I consumed as a kid.

Temptation - not wearable

Temptation is mask based on the legends of shipwrecked sailors who think they find salvation in a floating island…only to realize the island is not island at all, but a hungry sea monster. This can be found the stories of Baron Munchausen, Pinocchio, and Sinbad. Sometimes things are too good to be true.

Wearable Masks

Mask of Protection - wearable but incredibly uncomfortable.

The Mask or Protection was created specifically for a found object themed workshop. In all honesty it was rather difficult to feel any psychological transformation take place while wearing it…unless you consider pain a psychological transformation. It should be called the Iron Maiden mask.

Big Bad - wearable

Big Bad was a mask I created out of card stock. Very time consuming but a cool effect. It was made for a “Beautiful Beasts” parade that was part of my annual New Orleans retreat, where students dress up as characters that are related to the workshop theme.

El Diablo Mask (for Dia de los Muertos) - wearable

Mr. Doom - wearable

The Diablo mask was created for Day of the Dead in Mexico City. Since I go to Mexico (usually Oaxaca) every year for Dia de los Muertos I have made lots and lots of skeleton and devil masks.

Mr. Doom was also created for my New Orleans retreat. This time, the class was creating side show shrines, so we had a procession of strange side show performers.

Weirdo Colours From a Bygone Age

So if you know anything about me, you know I love paint…ooooooh how I love it. Sure, I love found objects but honestly my first artistic love is paint. Every single piece of assemblage sculpture I create MUST be painted or it isn’t really me. There is something about paint that has the ability to transport art into a different realm. And, I have to say, for me, digital art has never been satisfying to create because I really really want to get my hands all painty painty. If my hands are clean after a day painting in the studio, then something is really wrong. Now, with all that being said, these days paint is relatively easy to come across. You head to the store and you’ve got paint. In fact, you can head to the dollar store and buy paint…mind you…it’s not very good paint…but it’s paint. Back in the olden days it must have seemed like alchemy; something physical is transformed into something that could be used to create worlds on canvases, buildings, caves, etc. Here’s the where it gets tricky, one needed to find something colourful to make a pigment from, before it was put in a tube. So with no further ado, let’s take a peek at some of the strange stuff folks have made pigment from throughout history.

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Groovy Old-Timey Pigments

Indian Yellow

So this is a colour that you can find in some very famous paintings, perhaps the most famous painting being Van Gogh’s “Starry Night”. This pigment originally came from India and was used since 15th century. It is a super vibrant yellow, but there was only one problem with it…it kinda smelled. Which sort of made sense because it was made from dried cow urine…but not just any cow urine…cow urine that was really bright bright yellow. Now, you may be asking what made this urine so yellow…well it turns out the peeing cows were eating lots and lots of mango leaves which for some reason made the urine quite bright…and ripe. You’ll never look at “The Starry Night” the same way, will you?

"Starry Night” by Vincent Van Gogh

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Bone Black

There are a variety of black pigment options. Each one is made from something a bit different. Mars Black is made from iron, Carbon Black it made from charring organic material…after a night of roasting marshmallows over the campfire, you could go and gather the charred wood and make Carbon Black if you were so inclined. Lamp Black was made from burning oil. Which brings us to Bone Black (aka Ivory Black) this was and is made from charred bones. That’s right…bones. Now don’t worry it’s not like Soylent Green (or Soylent Bone Black) where they are making it out of people, but if you are vegan, you might consider using Carbon Black or Mars Black.

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Tyrian Purple

This colour sounds kind of Lord of the Ringsy/Game of Thronesy, which is appropriate because this was once a regal colour. Only the wealthy and powerful had access to this pigment due to the difficulty of creating it. It was often a pigment only used when depicting emperors or the elites. Tyrian purple gets its name from the port city of Tyre where it was mainly produced. And what, you may ask was this made from? Small sea snails. You might think that it would be the shell that was ground up…BZZZZZZ…wrong. It was the dried secretion that it produced. Legend has it that it was invented when Tyros (Tyros was a mistress to a Phoenician god) took her little doggy out for a walk when suddenly his mouth was all purple…from chewing up snails. So it turns out a dog discovered the colour purple.

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Dragon Blood

This was said to be a really rich red. As the story goes it was created when a dragon and an elephant battled it out…which is something you don’t see every day. Anyway, the blood from these battles that the pigment is what this pigment was said to be created from…I’m not sure if it was the elephant’s blood, the dragon’s blood, or a mixture of both. Well, it’s a good marketing ploy. In actuality, it was made from tree resin of the Dracaena species of trees which creates these beautiful red resin drops. Not as dramatic as a dragon battle but still purdy.

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Ultramarine Blue

You don’t really think of paints as a status symbol. Sure a painting could be considered a form of status, like owning a Picasso, but you don’t think of a colour that way, at least these days. Believe it or not Ultramarine Blue was a status symbol colour. Originally the pigment was made from the beautiful blue mineral, lapis lazuli, which was mined in Afghanistan. So, not a hop skip and a jump away for those living in Europe, thus the name Ultramarine, which translates to “beyond the sea” in Latin. Now let’s say you wanted to impress your friends at a dinner party with your art acquisitions, well, if you had a painting with a little blue….that would be quite a thing, but to have a lot of ultramarine…well, you’re a big shot then. So if you wanted something painted blue…you’d need a lot of green.

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Mummy Brown

I saved my favourite weirdo colour for last. Mummy brown is colour that ranged from a burnt umber hue to a raw umber hue and popped up in the 16th and 17th century. So the reason for the name was because it was quite literally made from mummies…yes mummies. Believe it or not mummies were ground up and made into paint, then placed in a tube, and this was done until sometime in the 1930s…when it suddenly was seen as distasteful, which oddly enough coincides with the decade the Boris Karloff film was released; perhaps people became more superstitious or maybe it made more apparent that artists were painting with ground up corpses. I should mention that it wasn’t just human mummies, the ancient Egyptians also mummified cats, so a fair amount of mummy pigment came from our feline friends. You would think that using Mummy Brown would be the curse worthy.

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Perhaps you’ll thing of painting a bit differently, now. Paint can be surprising, sometimes those colours come from very unusually sources, especially when we go back in time. Happy painting.

Doppelgängers - Eerie Omens, Mysterious Lookalikes and Evil Twins

In this episode Michael explores doppelgängers, changelings and other unusual duplicates.  Are they warnings, protectors, or do they have something more nefarious in mind???

Check out the podcast here: https://www.buzzsprout.com/887464/5096077

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Past Lives of Nicholas Cage?

Lately this photo has been popping up as proof that Nicholas cage lived in a past life…or he’s a vampire. Not sure that really classifies as doppelgänger though

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Evil Twins - Facial Hair is a definitive give-away. If your friend suddenly has a beard…they might be an evil twin. Be careful

Evil Superman - notice the 5 O’Clock shadow…hmmmm

Evil Michael Knight - Garth

Evil Mr. Spock

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Vardoger - An Old Norse doppelganger. A duplicate the precedes the living. A premonitory visit.

Donny Darko had a type of vardoger…in this case it was a weird fluid substance the preceded him. Not really a dopplegange though.

Egyptian Ka - duplicate of oneself that hangs out in the tomb and while you hang out in the afterlife.

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How They Met Themselves by Dante Rossetti

A medieval couple out for an evening stroll…but find…themselves!!!!

Mythological Plants - Magic, Murder, Mayhem in the Botanical Kindgom

Mythological Plants - Magic, Murder and Mayhem in the Botanical Kingdom

In my most recent Strange Tales of Myth and Magic Podcast I explores strange plants of fable and lore, including the hungry grass of Ireland, the man-eating Madagascar tree and vampire pumpkins.

You can check out the the Podcast Here

https://www.buzzsprout.com/887464/4341266

Beware the Hungry Grass…if you step on it your appetite will never be quenched.

Raskovnik. If you find this plant you be able to unlock any door and open any barricade.

In the Balkans you many have Vampire Pumpkins and/or Vampire Watermelons roaming your farm. Beware.

Stay clear of the carnivorous Madagascar tree…it loves human flesh.