Rune Image

  The only version of the ancient Runic system that I’ve used was formulated by Ralph H. Blum.  I have the ’93 edition of “The Book of Runes”, though there are many others available. A simple Googling will reveal the breadth of his work.
  I use this oracle system when I become enmeshed in thought forms that are persistent. There is usually good reason for the longevity of doubt or negative self-image. I use them when I have to make a judgment call based on factors that are known and intangible, yet felt. I sometimes use them to center my dispersed energies for an important task or meeting. I may question my feelings about specific people and situations.
  I never use the runes just for the hell of it. It’s not a parlor game, but a risky route to immediate self-knowledge. Other divination systems such as the I Ching or the Tarot have greater complexity. The 25 glyphs or symbols which comprise the runic alphabet embody energies or propensities which are basic or primal. There are many methods of casting the little stones. I’ve only the simplest method: selecting three random runes from all 25, which are spread on their backsides, then flipped in succession. They are read from right to left; hence, the “reverse” or counter-clockwise presentation of the seasons in this particular rune Harvest (Jera); Fertile Season; One Year.
  There is an ancient method of drawing in which a random pattern provides a hallucinatory ground. Leonardo painted a few landscapes this way. The artist Max Ernst perfected the “frottage,” a way of constructing images from rubbings on natural textures. When I see three runes together, I think of the specific energies I have put into motion sparking new thought forms related to the issue I have brought to the surface--like  drawing  over a pattern does.
  I only did a few Rune cards. Life took over.

A Lecher's Lament

It's a wonder that many of those old stovetop hats didn't go up in smoke considering the torrid thoughts that were sparking underneath them. Possibly absinthe was as much a catalyst for this inflamed prose as were the feminine charms extolled below:


"To A Passer-By (Baudelaire)", ink & watercolor, 12" x 18", 2001 ©Justin Green

Amid the deafening traffic of the town,

Tall, slender, in deep mourning, with majesty,

A woman passed, raising with dignity

In her poised hand, the flounces of her gown;

Graceful, noble, with a statue's form.

And I drank, trembling as a madman thrills,

From her eyes, ashen sky where brooded storm.

The softness that fascinates, the pleasure that kills.

A flash...then night!-O lovely fugitive,

I am suddenly reborn from your swift glance;

Shall I never see you 'til eternity?

Somewhere, far off! Too late! Never, perchance!

Neither knows where the other goes or lives;

We might have loved, and you knew this might be!

A Botanical Emblem Book

 From the University of Cincinnati Rare Books Library, Germany, 7" x 5", late 17th Century 


Seeing an emblem image on a computer screen is  pale shadow of experiencing one in its original context. While the content may be amplified by the brilliant backlighting, there is much lost in translationto the new medium. Think of a potato chip, a very bad one; now think of a deluxe health-food-store variety, thicker and heavier. Stay with me. Now think of freshly minted dollar bills, so thin they stick together. Between touching those bills and turning a parchment page is the difference between handling the cheapest and most expensive potato chip. Parchment paper is “crunchier,” too. You can hear the ancient paper crinkling as it’s handled. The ink has been impressed into thick paper by the pressure of tooled blocks, so that the fibers beneath the surface are thoroughly saturated. The pages splay out from leather bindings suspended like large plant leaves.
  As the images were printed in various sections (signatures), then folded, trimmed and sewn, there is an irregularity to the ink quality. (Possibly, the most consistently high quality specimens were reserved for a wealthier clientele.)  Through centuries of compression, the ink has transferred to opposing pages. Images, often printed on the right side of an open book have a blank page facing—which after centuries of compression bear a faint smudged impression of the ink. If the book has been stored flat, those verso ink deposits become darker, just from the increased weight of the pages.
  The craftsmanship is exquisite and breathtaking, too—considering there was no instant “white-out” tool or even a means of reduction (except the ancient grid method of proportioning down). It is difficult to believe that only the humble magnifying glass enabled such sharp focus and details. There must have been mechanical/optical aids of some kind which permitted that high degree of precise craftsmanship.
  This image is taken from a German botanical survey published in the late 17th Century. It seems to be a survey of beneficial herbs and flowers, which began earlier in the century. I believe that at least three artists worked on the volume successively, as there are slight deviations in style and ornamentation. In addition to the lush foreground detail, there is always a middle ground and distance which are depicted selectively with a painter’s eye—not a clunky common line width which marks earlier works. See the scores of images, I believe that the backgrounds are details of specific landscapes where the various plants thrive. Dover Books take note.
  I highly recommend visiting the rare books department of your local library or university. You might be able to access obscure and beautiful volumes of emblem images handed down through centuries, and untouched for decades. This is a vital art form! Though long slumbering, it awaits a Renaissance in the digital age. We now have the resources to survey and catalog the entire world treasury of existing volumes—and to imbue it with imagery and text expressive of our era and culture. For a brief summary of the Emblem tradition, see the earlier post, “A Forgotten Genre" at my other site
http://justingreencartoonart.blogspot.com






























 

Poetic License

“Musical Legends” ran monthly from ’92 in PULSE! Magazine, which was distributed at all Tower Records stores until the demise of the corporation in ’02. The money was never quite enough, though too good to abandon the strip. Each cartoon biography involved extensive research and the occasional interview. This is the only one I made up! I thought the word “Legends” gave me artistic license. The reason it sounds so believable is that I had first hand information from my father, who was the official bat-boy for the Chicago White Sox in either ’19, or ’20. As the local purveyor of dogs to the Chisox dugout, he was pressed into service by the hungry Ruth to fetch some top quality dogs pronto. When Pop, then a mere sprout of ten, delivered the goods, the “Bambino” palmed one down exactly as shown. As for Waller, I extrapolated several details from his biographers, such as the gin breakfast. In the unlikely event that I ever have to answer to St. Peter, I’ll justify my white lie thus: “Okay, Fats didn’t mimic Ruth’s gluttonous gesture, but it’s arguably a poetic reality.”

The Pause That Refreshes

  Over the decades, words come into vogue which connote some kind of intellectual currency. From that old-saw “realms”, we’ve now progressed to such lofty and vague terms as “epiphany,” or “paradigm,” to suggest that some kind of shift in consciousness is necessary to navigate a new reality--or that it’s already here--and you better get on board, buddy. Yet when these faddish words start showing up on bumper stickers and evening news items, perhaps it’s time to look inward and define mental phenomenon with more acuity. Something is going on, though, with the role of the artist in the world-at large. The marketing of original art and all the assumptions I had about earning a livelihood through my real work seem to be in a permanent state of flux.
  In the blogosphere, I am just one more self-motivated content provider. I question my motives. I’m not sure that this rigorous self-examination (or even Spell-check) is too common among my millions of virtual peers. Let’s face it, insanity runs rampant in many fonts, including the Times that I have chosen. I am amazed at the lack of meaningful response to the verbiage I have offered (or substantive comments on the images themselves). I have no doubt that my images are compelling or that my words have legitimacy, so I must question the new culture itself. There is little hope of reaping material rewards or recognition from this egalitarian medium. All agencies of certification and qualification are gone, save for the attendance records registered as STATS. My use of the King’s English is merely a personal preference and all notions of cultural conservation are fair game for mockery. Everyman is now king, and yet, it’s “every man for himself” as the saying goes, in the face of disaster.
  Mass appropriation is a raging phenomenon. Option G (which makes the little © ball) is an antiquated notion, much like double-spacing after a period or starting any letter with Dear. While my motivation for creating this site is still unfolding, The images and entries are intended for re-publication in some format, perhaps posthumously; I have cannily posted most at 72 dpi, assuring that free usage for print is impractical (though I have nothing against sharing files). So why not take a little time to scroll through the archives? If this were some coffee table book, you would surely thumb through it from random insertion points. Start anywhere. I will provide fresh content for your insatiable appetite next week, which you can accept or reject with a twitch of your thumb.

Chris Farley 1964-1997

 "Chris Farley Memory", block print & watercolor, 9" x 12", 2011

  I grew up with the cerebral “sick” comedians. I caught the Second City in its earliest days, but I am not an aficionado of modern comedy. Nor have I kept up with film or television. Farley’s tormented antics, apart from all other comedians, consistently reached me at a visceral level. His death was a tragedy that could have been prevented with a little foresight. Now he comes unbidden from the shadows, perhaps from the astral plane, and still provokes astonishment and delight. Loftier art forms lack that telepathic power.
 

It's Later Than You Think

Silkscreen print, edition of 100, 18" x 24", 2006

Holidays and noteworthy events seem to occur at a faster pace as we careen around the yearly circuit,