Tales from the Island of Serendip 4 4

[Flex Mentallo]

The Wind of Mind

by J. Scott Jordan

 

What does the wind say

To you as it blows

Through your time?

Does it ask or tell?

Does it touch you with the past

Or caress your present?

Can you feel the wind?

I know you can

For I can feel

You feel it

It blew through my brothers

sisters

fathers

mothers.

It blew through them all,

And touches me with a sense

Of ethos,

A sense of timelessness

I can feel their lives in the wind

I can feel myself emerge

From them

In the wind

I come to know

The master of my house

As it touches me

Through the wind

It embraces me,

Does not allow I

To be the only aspect of me

Does not allow

answers

a settling for solutions

that are much too simple

For the truth is in everything

The wind touches everything

The wind touches me

I am the Wind

 

 

[Flex Mentallo]

Wow, what great life stories. I hope to get to India before I am too old; thanks for the inspiration. The beautiful images you shared were also quite wonderful with many I have never seen. Are you also a fan of Jon R. Neill who illustrated the Oz books; it seems you would like his style too.

 

I think all life is full of the connections you describe; one just needs to look.

 

Thanks again for a fantastic thread.

 

I'm only distantly aware of Neill's work and it wold be great to see some of his illustrations posted here. Do you know much about him?

 

One of my favourite illustrators is John Tenniel, particularly his wonderful Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. In some regards my entire story is about what happens when you take that step and find yourself on the other side of the mirror looking out.

 

 

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Tenniel is a perfect example of an illustrator whose depictions add value ad definition to the illustrated text, and become as synonymous with the mythos as the original writer. I suspect one might say the same of Neill and Oz?

 

 

 

 

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Tenniel

Edited December 30, 2012 by alanna

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"As the original illustrator for his book, Lewis Carroll’s own artistic inabilities, among other problems, held back Wonderland to a degree. Not until engraver Orlando Jewitt, who had done work for Carroll before in 1859 and had reviewed Carroll’s illustrations for Wonderland, had suggested employment of a professional draughtsman did Carroll look to find an outside artist. With such a reputation seemingly firm and in place for both Punch and Tenniel, it would stand to reason that the artist’s public status attracted high levels of attention and notoriety from his peers and the public; Carroll, a regular reader of Punch, knew, of course, of Tenniel. In 1865 Tenniel, after considerable talks with Carroll, illustrated the first edition of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."

 

 

 

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Advice from a Caterpillar

 

 

 

 

 

The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.

 

Who are YOU? said the Caterpillar.

 

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.

 

What do you mean by that? said the Caterpillar sternly. Explain yourself!

 

I can't explain MYSELF, I'm afraid, sir said Alice, because I'm not myself, you see.

 

I don't see, said the Caterpillar.

 

I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly, Alice replied very politely, for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.

 

It isn't, said the Caterpillar.

 

Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet, said Alice; but when you have to turn into a chrysalis--you will some day, you know--and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?

Not a bit, said the Caterpillar.

 

Well, perhaps your feelings may be different, said Alice; all I know is, it would feel very queer to ME.

You! said the Caterpillar contemptuously. Who are YOU?

 

Which brought them back again to the beginning of the conversation. Alice felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's making such VERY short remarks, and she drew herself up and said, very gravely, I think, you ought to tell me who YOU are, first.

 

Why? said the Caterpillar.

 

Here was another puzzling question; and as Alice could not think of any good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in a VERY unpleasant state of mind, she turned away.

 

Come back! the Caterpillar called after her. I've something important to say!

 

This sounded promising, certainly: Alice turned and came back again.

 

Keep your temper, said the Caterpillar.

 

Is that all? said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as she could.

 

No, said the Caterpillar.

 

Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had nothing else to do, and perhaps after all it might tell her something worth hearing. For some minutes it puffed away without speaking, but at last it unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth again, and said, So you think you're changed, do you?

 

I'm afraid I am, sir, said Alice; I can't remember things as I used--and I don't keep the same size for ten minutes together!

Can't remember WHAT things? said the Caterpillar.

 

Well, I've tried to say "HOW DOTH THE LITTLE BUSY BEE," but it all came different! Alice replied in a very melancholy voice.

 

Repeat, "YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM," said the Caterpillar.

 

Alice folded her hands, and began:--

 

You are old, Father William, the young man said,

And your hair has become very white;

And yet you incessantly stand on your head--

Do you think, at your age, it is right?

 

In my youth, Father William replied to his son,

I feared it might injure the brain;

But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,

Why, I do it again and again.

 

You are old, said the youth, as I mentioned before,

And have grown most uncommonly fat;

Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--

Pray, what is the reason of that?

 

In my youth, said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,

I kept all my limbs very supple

By the use of this ointment--one shilling the box--

Allow me to sell you a couple?

 

You are old, said the youth, and your jaws are too weak

For anything tougher than suet;

Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--

Pray how did you manage to do it?

 

In my youth, said his father, I took to the law,

And argued each case with my wife;

And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,

Has lasted the rest of my life.

 

You are old, said the youth, one would hardly suppose

That your eye was as steady as ever;

Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--

What made you so awfully clever?

 

I have answered three questions, and that is enough,

Said his father; don't give yourself airs!

Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?

Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!

That is not said right, said the Caterpillar.

 

Not QUITE right, I'm afraid, said Alice, timidly; some of the words have got altered.

 

It is wrong from beginning to end, said the Caterpillar decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes.

 

The Caterpillar was the first to speak.

 

What size do you want to be? it asked.

 

Oh, I'm not particular as to size, Alice hastily replied; only one doesn't like changing so often, you know.

 

I DON'T know, said the Caterpillar.

 

Alice said nothing: she had never been so much contradicted in her life before, and she felt that she was losing her temper.

 

Are you content now? said the Caterpillar.

 

Well, I should like to be a LITTLE larger, sir, if you wouldn't mind, said Alice: three inches is such a wretched height to be.

 

It is a very good height indeed! said the Caterpillar angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three inches high).

 

But I'm not used to it! pleaded poor Alice in a piteous tone. And she thought of herself, I wish the creatures wouldn't be so easily offended!

 

You'll get used to it in time, said the Caterpillar; and it put the hookah into its mouth and began smoking again.

 

This time Alice waited patiently until it chose to speak again. In a minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth and yawned once or twice, and shook itself. Then it got down off the mushroom, and crawled away in the grass, merely remarking as it went, One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you grow shorter.

One side of WHAT? The other side of WHAT? thought Alice to herself.

 

Of the mushroom, said the Caterpillar, just as if she had asked it aloud; and in another moment it was out of sight.

Edited December 30, 2012 by alanna

[50YrsCollctngCmcs]

Ha Ha! Nothing like a little (short) Alice to start the day; I haven't read it in some time.

 

I know little of Neill other than thinking his Oz illustrations were quite amazing when I read those books as a child. He was certainly an old school illustrator. I tried to emulate his pen technique when I took art lessons many years ago. It was only then with pen in hand and an India Ink bottle that you realize how hard it is to draw in this style.

 

Another artist whose style I always found reminiscent of this early twentieth century style was HG Peters who illustrated Wonder Woman in the early days. I think it gives those books a very unique look and as I recall he was quite an old man when he did that work.

 

 

 

 

[Flex Mentallo]

I know little of Neill other than thinking his Oz illustrations were quite amazing when I read those books as a child. He was certainly an old school illustrator. I tried to emulate his pen technique when I took art lessons many years ago. It was only then with pen in hand and an India Ink bottle that you realize how hard it is to draw in this style.

 

 

 

 

 

 

John R. Neill

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not sure this is Neill but appears to be in his style - wonderful anyway!

 

 

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_R._Neill

Edited December 30, 2012 by alanna

[50YrsCollctngCmcs]

Try to pick up a copy of the OZ scrapbook on EBay which had a lot of Neill illustrations and some history. Sadly, mostly in Black and White as this was printed in the seventies.

[Flex Mentallo]

 

I know little of Neill other than thinking his Oz illustrations were quite amazing when I read those books as a child. He was certainly an old school illustrator. I tried to emulate his pen technique when I took art lessons many years ago. It was only then with pen in hand and an India Ink bottle that you realize how hard it is to draw in this style.

 

 

Interesting you should say that as pen and ink has always been one of my favourite mediums precisely because it is so rigorous. No mistakes allowed, but also, it demands discipline, especially when working from life. I did literally hundreds of pen and ink sketches in the village in 1985, but these are the only ones I happen to have scanned.

 

 

 

This is Nirmal:

 

 

 

 

 

..and this is Meera Mukherjee, a great sculptress, doing her lost wax casting using traditional methods at Nirmal's house in the village:

 

 

 

 

 

Indeed, the photoshop picture I posted earlier was originally a pen and ink drawing. Or more properly speaking, a collage composed of many sketches put together to create a sort of mosaic but which appears to be a single scene:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here is the final picture by way of comparison:

 

 

 

 

 

So there is a process of world building that begins with small, sometimes very brief pen and ink sketches, which are then collaged into a more complex composition [which shows different times, events and spaces as if they are one].

 

Then I probably do a thousand versions before arriving at the "finished" picture. Except nothing is ever finished...I have perhaps several hundred "versions" of this picture.

 

What I have found really interesting about working in photoshop is that once you get past the obvious [that is, how to make a picture that doesnt look like it is a photoshop artefact], so the pattern of thinking, the decisions made, guide one to use the various tools and filters in just the same way one would use brush and paint.

 

More on that later perhaps!

Edited December 31, 2012 by alanna

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[Theagenes]

Michael, I'm finally getting a chance to go through this thread and I am just blown away on so many levels. Thank you so much for sharing your story and your journey.

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As a child growing upin the north of England, British comics preceded DC and Marvel.

 

 

There was Lion

 

 

 

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lion_%28comics%29

 

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...and Eagle, with Dan Dare

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eagle_%28comic%29

 

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There was Buffalo Bill by the great Denis McLoughlin

 

 

 

 

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denis_McLoughlin

 

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And in particular there were the digest sized War Picture Library, Air Ace and Commando, written by men who had served in the war

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The interiors of these were in black and white. I became intrigued quite early by the way in which spot blacks were used to evoke mood, and strangely, colour.

 

 

 

 

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_Picture_Library