The Naturalist
posted by tearful dishwasher at 10:44 AM
Sunday, August 28, 2005
About Me
- Name: tearful dishwasher
- Location: U.S. Outlying Islands
Fully engaged in the whole catastrophe
Previous Posts
- Laundromat
- Deep Sea Fishing
- "On the No. Seven"
- "We Can't Reduce the Risks to Zero"
- Walter and Margaret
- Sea of Love
- Zippermouth
- Call Out
- This One Goes Out to The One I Love
- In The Temple of My Heart
5 Comments:
Ah, but I love the body language here. We say so much, intentionally or accidentally, with our bodies.
Is there any possibility you might explain the process, the step by step of this particular piece? I'm curious to know how you arrive at the final product. What was the initial impetus? I guess what I'm asking is, if you're willing, to please deconstruct this particular piece for me. Maybe tell me if these 2 people exist in a photograph together or if they're taken from disparate images, and so on. I'd like to know how many layers are involved. And to circle back, I'm dying to know what sparked the piece. If you don't want to get down to the nittygritty, the particulars, hey, I understand. It's just that when I look at a piece like this, I get an instant sense of the most blatant layers yet I wonder what I'm missing, if there are infinitely more layers/steps involved than I can see or perceive.
Finally, may I express a wish? I wish her wings looked more natural. I wish they looked like real butterfly wings instead of man-made, artisitcally rendered ones.
Body language. Yes. I like, Scott. I like very much.
Oh, and regarding the previous image, I misread it or mis-"saw" the astronaut as a fetus which made for a very interesting, very visceral reaction upon first viewing. A fetus in a washing machine. I think I flinched, then peered into the screen, pressed my face up to it....and saw ah, yes, a spaceman in space which, when one stops and thinks about it, is not so different than a fetus. A tiny speck of life--oh, that just made me think of bodyworlds again and that fetus that was so small I couldn't see it at first--floating in deep space--and really, what space is deeper, more vast than the womb?--, attached to the ship by an umbilical cord of sorts.
Woman, winged. Man with net. I feel a poem coming.
Thanks for this image. I almost stopped by here last night and the night before to beg you to post an image, to post something that would stir me up a bit. But it would've sounded too needy. (smile)
Thanks for this.
i think it's terrific! i'm of two minds about the wings, however: no wings at all would be a bit more subtle. as it is, however, one is more inclined to smile than to think very deeply about this one, which is perhaps where its appeal lies. and scott, when you get time, i sent you a query about your dogs. j
love it.
if i had the money and the time, we would be out there.
jack
Hey Laurel-
This image was composed from a photograph I took in front of the Natural History Museum in Manhattan. All I added were the wings and the net, and the shadows for each. About a dozen layers when all was said and done.
The wings are from an actual butterfly, although in this version they do look a little 'cartoony', in the original more detail is visible and they look more 'real'.
As far as what sparked the image, I was looking at Maggie Taylor's website www.magietaylor.com and this image literally appeared in my mind's eye as I was going through some of her work. I jumped into Photoshop and in an hour or so I had what I was after.
Most of my pieces evolve with more experimentation and playing around, seeing what works, etc. But this came out full cloth and it was just a matter of making the image match the idea.
Glad you like it. And glad it again sparked a creative response.
Jim-
Reply sent. Sorry for the delay. And thanks again!
Jack-
Jack. Jack. Jack! Holy shit!
Great to hear from you. Jenni says you've been working your ass off. Hope you are okay. Just let me know when you guys ever do come out. It'll happen. Or we'll come out your way. We've been thinking a lot about North Carolina....
All the best to you.
Scott
It's the white shoes that just absolutely knock me out, so innocent, so child-like with their straps and their oh-so-white-I-must-be-brand-newness, and you can tell by the way she has crossed her legs, that she's been kicking that foot out and admiring herself, that she's been very careful not to scuff them. They make her feet happy. They make her feel like spring.
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