Harpy’s Pets and An Ogre Beset

Harpy’s Pets

I’ve been working the last month on linocut and woodcut prints. A Valencia College curator wants ten prints by March 1. She’ll make a selection for a group printmaking show in June.

“Harpy’s Pets” is a three-color reduction print. Reductions involve printing white and the lightest color first, cutting out block so that areas designated for a second and third color remain, then removing everything but raised sections for the final color. “Harpy” started with white and yellow, followed by red, followed by black.

I had problems getting a clean, properly aligned print: sometimes I rolled the ink too thickly and filled in shallow, narrow cuts; sometimes odd protuberances unintentionally printed in areas intended to be bare; sometimes I failed to line up ragged edges of rice paper properly with registration marks on my printing guide.

An Ogre Beset

I grumped as I studied the flaws in “Harpy’s Pets”. But frustration led to a desire to do better. So, I started a new print. Took a stick of charcoal, made random marks on a wooden board and waited for images to emerge. The horned ogre arrived first followed by the dragon, followed by the foot (upper left), followed eventually by the flying elephant (upper right). I fixed the charcoal to the board with hairspray, began to cut.

The light areas have already been cut. I’ll gouge away the tan areas leaving raised black lines and dark patches. There’ll be nothing but black and white tones in this print. Keep it simple, stupid.

My older prints centered around domestic dramas and human conflicts. Now I’m starting to notice a fairy tale, mythological trend in latest images. Animals, monsters, human/animal hybrids keep emerging out of clouds and tangles of marks. Perhaps my unconscious mind is drifting toward magical thinking.


Once Upon a Time: God and the Devil

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Once upon a time there was a God who was Everything.  Everything meant hot and cold, life and death, good and evil.  A creature arose out of everything who began to think for itself.  And the creature’s descendants eventually began to blame God when things went wrong.  Cousin Fred died in an ice storm.  Why did God take him away?  Was God angry at Fred?  What did Fred do to offend, and how might the survivors avoid God’s punishment?

Now God didn’t think that he was responsible.  He was Everything, and Everything meant all possibilities.  If a creature wanted to complain, he certainly could–complaining was just another part of Everything.  So was suffering and fear.  So was satisfaction, comfort and pleasure.  The creature couldn’t have only the things it wanted if it was part of Everything.

But God grew tired of listening to the creature’s complaints.  They went on and on, and their prayers and petitions and offerings grew tiresome.  What did they expect from Him?  Hadn’t He already given them Everything?  So God allowed Satan to arise.  And God said to Satan, “You’re my fall guy.  When things go wrong for the creature, you take the blame.”

But clever Satan said, “What’s in it for me?”

God said, “You get to exist and be part of Everything.”

“No thanks,” Satan replied.  “I’d rather sink back into Nothingness than to be an unpaid and despised Somethingness.”

God could see Satan’s point, so He said, “Okay, you get to play with the creature.  These people can be a lot of fun.”

“Play with them?  What do you mean?” Satan asked.

“Use your imagination,” God blandly replied.

“Deal!” said Satan.