#between the symbolism and juxtaposition and just all the intricacies

[kassysyd]

“Her Sweet Kiss” - A Short  Analysis

Preface: In my job, a key part of my role is to select and analyse various different forms of poetry (yes, lyrics are a type of poem) so, I am keenly aware of the difference between what could be considered quality poetic verse and the doggerel we frequently hear passed off as lyrics in modern songs. I was expecting the latter from the soundtrack to Netflix’s The Witcher, I was wrong.

 Although, at first listen “Her Sweet Kiss” appeared to be a simple love ballad, the uncommon depth and intricacy of the symbolism stunned and forced me to take another listen. Additionally, its arrangement within key scenes of the episode, as well as the inclusion of both alternative lyrics and instrumental versions was ingenious. I don’t have time to do a full analysis, instead, I have pulled together a basic overview of the key elements which stood out to me from this marvellously complex song. I hope this may assist you with your own interpretations.

 Before we start analysing the lyrics, let’s look at the contextual placement of this song within the episode 'Rare Species'. It is featured at three key moments; the opening scene showing Jaskier composing the song, the sex scene between Geralt and Yennifer and then finally played over the credits.   

 In the opening scene, Jaskier is shown singing and composing while waiting for Geralt to return from a hunt. The lyrics are slightly different here and include the adjectives ‘gorgeous’ and ‘lovely’ in reference to the ‘Garroter’ character. He asks the men nearby whether the metaphorical use of ‘garroter’ is too ‘cerebral’, indicating that it is indeed symbolic of someone (Geralt). The lines “I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting… Gorgeous Garroter, jury and judge”, are sung by Jaskier and introduce the concept that the narrator is in love with someone but is also conflicted about their choice to follow them on 'The Path' (more on this later). It is also important to note that the notebook resting on his thigh contains an alternative version of the lyrics which do not feature the secondary 'her' character yet and instead focus instead on the narrator’s own weakness and inability to leave what he feels in an unfair relationship 'If I were a man of more merit,  if I were a man of resolve I’d leave you behind, get my fair peace of mind'.  

 The second time the song is heard during the sex scene between Geralt and Yennifer. This time the song is purely instrumental. The moment where they first kiss, the chorus line 'She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss' is playing. As the audience had already heard some of the song, they would recognize it. But as they only heard the earlier version, which describes only the narrator’s willingness to suffer to be with the one he loves, the full significance of the song is not yet established with the audience. This lack of audible lyrics further symbolizes the narrator’s uncertain feelings towards their relationship at this point in the episode. But also unambiguously associates the song with both Geralt and Yennefer, establishing it as a proxy theme song for their romance and further supporting the argument that the characters from the song are indeed Geralt and Yennifer.

 The final time this song is heard is over the end credits, this time the song is sung by Jaskier and plays in full. The previous ambiguity is sharply contrasted here when the revised set of lyrics are presented to the audience and the true theme of the is song revealed (Jaskier’s anguish). The final scene between Geralt, Yennifer and Jaskier is key to contextualizing these lyrics as it directly foreshadows many lines and themes explored in the song. For example, in Jaskier’s line 'that’s not fair' echoing the lyrics directly and the show’s constant depiction of Yennefer using storm imagery (both themes explored in more detail below).

 The Characters

The song contains three distinct characters 'I/Narrator', 'You/Garrotter' and 'Her'.

 'I/Narrator' – The narrator of the song, possibly Jaskier – It has been established in songs such as ‘Toss a Coin to Your Witcher’ that Jaskier frequently writes from his own perspective and as clearly illustrated in the lines 'When a humble Bard, graced a ride along with Geralt of Rivia along came this song' frequently portray Geralt as their protagonist (this is also canonical for the books, but, I’m limiting my interpretations to the show). Additionally, many key themes and concepts from the lyrics directly reference Jaskier’s own life and experiences (explored in more detail in later paragraphs). It is later shown that Jaskier has written so many highly successful songs about Geralt that the prostitute in the opening scene of ‘Betrayer Moon’ was able to identify his scars by their relevant songs and was surprised to find one that she did not recognize. It can plausibly be argued that ‘Her Sweet Kiss’ is both autobiographical and includes Geralt as a key character.

 'You/Garotter' - The love interest of the narrator and also addressed as 'My Love' and 'Fool'  -  We can connect this 'Garotter' character with ‘Geralt’ through both the phonological similarity between the words and in scene featuring Marilka in the episode 'The End’s Beginning' when she points out 'Geralt'… like Garroter?' a canonically explicit linking of the names. ‘Garotter’ is a term for a killer, specifically, someone who does so through strangling, symbolic of Geralt’s employment. Jaskier himself points out that the ‘metaphor’ may be to ‘cerebral’, indicating to us the audience the need to interpret the line figuratively rather than literally.

 'Her'- The rival for the narrators love interest - A woman described as a destructive and unjust force, using wild, nature-based metaphors such as ‘storms’ and ‘currents’ to describe her ‘love’. Repeatedly throughout the show Yennefer is also described using similar nature/storm imagery, such as Geralt’s description of her 'like a tornado wreaking havoc' (a line Jaskier is shown to have overheard as the camera pans to him).  

 The evidence then supports the supposition that the song may well be written from Jaskier’s perspective, exploring his feeling regarding Geralt’s and Yennifer’s relationship (for a discussion on the dubious nature of consent in this relationship see my other post). For convenience of analysis, from here on I will be assuming the narrator is Jaskier, the 'Her' character is Yennifer and the 'You/Garotter' character is Geralt'.

 The Lyrics

  The ‘’fairer sex’’ they often call it, but her love’s as unfair as a crook.

  Jaskier opens the song by comparing the cliché of women being 'the fairer sex' with the simile 'love’s as unfair as a crook' (an old-fashioned term for a criminal or thief). As ‘fair’ has the dual meaning of both beauty and justice, his description of her as ‘unfair’ attacks both her beauty and her morality. The simile comparing her to a 'crook' (an old-fashioned term for a criminal or thief) suggests that Jaskier feels that she acts both unjustly and steals her love (a possible oblique reference Yennifer’s willingness to use magic to coerce sexual behaviour and disregard consent – as illustrated by the scene Jaskier witnessed in ‘Bottled Appetites’ where she compels a large group of apparently unwilling participants to engage in group sex). The song also echoes Jaskier’s dialogue 'That’s not fair' after Geralt unfairly lashes out at him after his argument with Yennefer, providing further evidence for the autobiographical nature of the song.   

  It steals all my reason, commits every treason of logic with naught but a look.

  Yennifer’s ‘love’, he argues ‘steals’ (continuing the symbolism of her immorality) and commits ‘treason’ (the crime of betrayal) furthering the description of her as being both unlawful and ‘unfair’ in her relationship with Geralt. These lines also illustrate the despair Jaskier feels over not being able to convince Geralt of her corrupt nature. He feels that she can defeat or prevent his ‘logic’ and ‘reason’ easily, ‘with naught but a look’.

  A storm raging on the horizon of longing, and heartache, and lust

 The show repeatedly correlates Yennifer’s behaviour with the destructive forces of nature, and storms in particular. Scenes such as that at Aretusa where she bodily subsumes lightning then uses it to attack another student and when Geralt describes her as a ‘tornado wrecking havoc’ among others, highlight this correlation. Jaskier describing her as a 'storm' that is 'raging' highlights his perception of her as both destructive and aggressive. The storm in this line is be symbolic of Yennifer herself, showing that Jaskier recognizes her arrival as leading to ‘heartache’ and ‘lust’ rather than genuine love between her and Geralt.

  She’s always bad news, it’s always lose-lose

 The repetition of ‘always’ in these lines clearly illustrate how desperately Jaskier feels about the situation. He argues that involvement with her will inevitably lead to pain and loss for all of them, there is no way to win.

  So, tell me, Love, tell me, Love. How is that just?

  This line is a direct address to Geralt (his ‘Love’), begging him to explain, to see, to speak to him and understand. The rhetorical question 'How is that just?' again draws back to the concept of the ‘unfairness’ and injustice of her relationship with Geralt, Jaskier feels that she ‘steals’ love rather than earning or winning it (again a possible reference to lack of consent). The use of a rhetorical question also implies that he feels powerless and unable to expect any response to his pleas.

  But the story is this. She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss. Her sweet kiss

  Here Jaskier is using juxtaposition to show how her ‘sweet kiss’ (symbolic of her sexual relationship with Geralt) will ‘destroy’ him. He sets the tone by stating as fact that ‘The story is this', affirming his opinion that no other possible narrative exists beyond her storm-like destruction of their relationship and Geralt himself.

  Her current is pulling you closer, a charge in the hot, humid night.

  This line again uses the theme of the destructive power of nature, Yennefer is like a ‘current’ pulling Geralt towards her. The repeated portrayal of Yennefer as a destructive force of nature somewhat dehumanises her, correlating her actions with an uncaring inhuman force rather than that of a woman with genuine affections.

 The red sky at dawn is giving a warning. You Fool better stay out of sight

 This line references an ancient mariners rhyme 'Red sky at night, sailors' delight.Red sky at morning, sailors' warning.' meant to warn sailors of an impending storm when a red sky is seen at dawn. Jaskier is again using the ‘storm’ metaphor to warn Geralt about Yennifer. He addresses Geralt directly, calling him a ‘fool’ and advising him to hide from her destruction. 

  I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting. If this is the path I must trudge.

  This line provides a key insight into the identities of the characters and their relationship to each other. In Witcher canon 'The Path' is the name given to the life of a Witcher as he journeys around the continent battling monsters. It’s somewhat comparable to the religious concept of a 'calling'. By describing his choice to accompany Geralt on his quests as 'trudging' indicates that he does not enjoy the journey aspect of their relationship, but also signals his acceptance of this as the price he must pay for a relationship with Geralt.

 To further this point, in the show Jaskier does not always join Geralt in his actual monster battles, instead, it is implied that Geralt himself later recounts the stories. This is evidenced by the lines 'Geralt’s usually so stingy with the details' and later 'I’ll go get the rest of the story from the others'. This habit of receiving the tale after the events reveals that there is no need for Jaskier to continuously accompany Geralt on his journeys, multiple tales could just as easily be collected from Geralt or others (as seen in the tavern scene) at a later date. It can be supposed then that Jaskier, therefore, chooses to accompany Geralt for ‘love’, a reason which is also explored in the notebook version of the lyrics, 'If I were a man of more merit, if I were a man of resolve I’d leave you behind, get my fair peace of mind' It is implied here that he should leave but can’t because his love for Geralt is too powerful.

  I’ll welcome my sentence, give to you my penance. Garroter, jury and judge

 Jaskier’s conflicted feelings about his choice to accompany Geralt is explored further in the line above. He described the act of joining 'the path' as a form of punishment ('sentence' and 'penance') for being 'weak' and desirous ('wanting' Geralt). This ‘sentence’ is enforced by a 'jury and judge', the Garotter (Geralt).  

 The song’s repeated use of justice/legal symbolism is interesting. He places Geralt into the role of a 'Jury and Judge' passing out sentences from a position of power and control over Jaskier (and arguably Yennefer). Yennifer is described as a 'crook' who 'steals' and commits 'treason', but is not punished for these criminal acts. Instead, it is Jaskier himself who is punished, made to give 'penance'. He feels this is an injustice and 'unfair'. This sentiment neatly reflects the events of 'Rare Species', where after his disastrous romance with Yennefer, Geralt lashes out at Jaskier, accusing him of causing all of his misfortune.

 It can be imagined then that Jaskier may have taken his half-composed love song and written new lyrics in direct reaction to that betrayal; his pain laid bare in verse.   

[thegirlwhohasnochill]

The Disease of Addiction

Euphoria Special Episode Part 1: Rue (Recap & Review)

Before I begin my official review of this episode, I would like to preface my thoughts with a bit of a primer about spoilers and trigger warnings. The show covers a range of topics from addiction to mental health. Still, I specifically want to warn anyone reading that I explicitly talk about and mention the topic of suicide in my review. If this is triggering for you in any way, please, don’t read ahead and take care of yourself! Okay, that’s it; I hope you enjoy my thoughts, and please let me know if you have any feedback or comments for my review and things I can change or fix in the future.

Where to begin with such a loaded episode...we knew the format and style of the episode would be simplistic based on the current realities of filming amidst a pandemic and what we saw to be a scene from Season 2 that the creator Sam Levinson expanded upon. Zendaya herself let us know that the episode's storytelling method would be vastly different from what we’ve already seen on the show. The format and simplicity of the episode, in contrast to the loaded dialogue and content of the scenes, are perfect. The camera takes you right into the middle of these conversations with Rue and Ali. But before we can even dive into what they talk about, we have to address the elephant in the room that is Rules. The episode begins with what is probably one of the most gut-wrenching sequences I have seen on the show. Because we know the reality and truth of their current predicament, Rue’s peppered kisses across Jules’ body and her tight squeezes and hugs from behind Jules evoke a strong sense of loss and pain for the viewer. The sheer intensity of the physicality of Rue’s affection for Jules is so overpowering and overwhelmingly present, we can almost feel the imbalance in their relationship through the screen. There is something to be said for the harsh reality of Rue’s dependence on Jules being reflected even in such a non-objective dream-like sequence. And yet, even in Rue’s wildest dreams and happiest stupor, she does not imagine the sobriety of her future. To me, that is indeed the crux of her character and the essence of this episode. Ali himself says, “The point is your sobriety.” And while it may feel like a focal point of discussion, the conversation flows in a way that seems to bounce back and forth between the two like a simple tennis match. It is easy to follow between Ali’s most potent clearest convictions about how the world works and Rue’s drug-addled hazy perception. The inherent contrast between their mental states and the different points of life in which they are both standing hit the viewer at alternate moments.

But we know Rue is not sober even as she lies to Ali and stumbles out of the bathroom, the shaky camerawork conveying her recent use. She is wearing the same shirt from the dream but has her signature hoodie on, her messy curly locks running down her back and glassy eyes staring straight ahead. The scene moves from her imagination of life with Jules to her lies about use. Her eventual admittance to being a high-functioning user happens as quickly as the conversation moves from sobriety to faith.

So I might be biased and hence don’t think I am incorrect in admitting that Zendaya has never given us a bad performance in her life. Even as she lies to Ali’s face and he is quick to call out her apparent contradictions, the faint slurring of her voice and her glazed eyes tell all. As striking as the conversation is, it feels even stranger for me to admit I felt comforted by Rue’s confession to thoughts of ending her life. And even as she admits to the darkest moments in her mind, Ali’s face and reaction are an even better neutralizer for what would generally be such an alarming thing to say to someone you barely know. As they continue to discuss her eventual relapse and all the reasons behind it (including racing thoughts encompassing “all the things I remember and all the things I wish I didn’t”), the viewer can envision the sequence of events that was shown to us in the finale - her fights with her mother and sister, her first time using when her father was fast asleep, her father’s death, her sister finding her after her overdose.

As much as I would like to quote the entire episode, I have to say Ali’s monologue about the idea that none of us are born evil and that society views mental illness and addiction as a personal moral failure rather than an overarching system many of us are incapable of overcoming, to be one of, if not the most decisive moments of the entire show. The line about coming out of the womb with “a few wires crossed” but still a beautiful baby girl eventually messing her way up through life struck a chord in me. I didn’t ask to be born this way. I don’t feel in control of my mind or the way it ever seems to work. And I’m always going to be a bad person. The disease of addiction and mental illness lets you - no, it makes you - view everything you have ever done in your life as not a consequence of the way your mind works, but as an active choice, you have consistently made, as you screwed up everything you’ve ever loved, and let down everyone you have ever cared about. The disease is not you as a person or even the way you think, and yet it is powerful enough to feel that way. Almost like the rapid cycling between mania and depression, the disease flips between, making you feel like the most powerful, invincible person alive and the absolute scum of the earth. There is nothing in between.

Ali’s backstory and his monologues about his change in faith from Christianity (when he was previously known as Martin) to Islam and the world's revolutions were fascinating. Side note: I did think the line about women converting to Islam was unnecessary, but I digress.

Rue’s understanding of the Narcotics Anonymous program's steps was the perfect way to bring in the conversation of faith. As she mentions her difficulty in coming to terms with the idea that there is greater power in charge of her behaviour and the way she surrenders herself to drugs, Ali chimes in with, “You don’t believe there is a power on Earth greater than Rue.” She disagrees and continues quoting and citing different sources she believes to be omniscient and great. And I absolutely agree with her. To me, there is no greater power than the source of art, the music that keeps me going, that feels like it’s the only thing keeping me from stopping the blood pumping through my veins. I understand Rue. But I also understand Ali. And yet, when Rue goes on to talk about the inexplicable workings of the world, my heart stops. There is no reason. There is no reason for the absolute pain and loss and suffering I’ve experienced, for the trauma I’ve witnessed and endured. For the absolutely horrifying things, the people closest to me have lived through. It is merely chaos. There is no reason I wake up every single day, regretting the fact that I did indeed wake up and that I am alive and breathing. So I Understand Rue. But Ali’s monologue about the moral arc of the universe and the unfathomable ways in which life and history line themselves up, to open our very eyes to the realizations we come to daily, is overwhelming. And yet, while he is waxing poetic about the intricacies of the world, we can see Rue’s exhausted eyes glaze over further, still unimpressed. “Maybe I’ll start a revolution like Malcolm X or something”, she quips back. But Ali is quick to counter; revolutions are no longer revolutionary.

Life as we know it is hypocrisy and foolish symbolism, only emphasizing his point about the universe's ridiculousness. Does any of it have meaning? Or is the meaningless void just another puzzle piece in a picture we will never get to see? There is also something to be said about Rue’s facial expressions as Ali continues his train of thought about her “generation”. As we often do when we hear our elders dismissively brush off our many concerns, she almost rolls her eyes. But he is listening, and he knows. “You think you’re out here fighting a revolution, and Bank of America is on your side? Give me a fucking break.” He’s not wrong. His speech reminds me of the masses of teens on TikTok creating video content specifically catered to an audience with an aesthetic that glamorizes the image of a revolutionary teen hero. But instead of a blazing bow and arrow, it is the common cell phone and a punchy soundtrack filtered through digitized audio. What would typically come across as preachy in any show catered to teens is, in fact, poignant. It also reminds me of how self-aware Euphoria is, knowing it’s guilty of falling into the same trap it accuses the viewer of doing.  

You have to commit to bettering yourself, Ali essentially tells Rue. And to me, that is the most inherently human struggle we will ever face in our lifetimes. As long as we exist, we have to face the idea that each day is, in fact, not going to be easier than the last. And when he tells her that he believes in her and that the hope of her success (that may one day come) should be greater than the failure of her current demise holding her back, I want to cry. I keep thinking about that edit of Rue to this is me trying by Taylor Swift.

The music of the song that Jules has texted to Rue swells, and it is easy to get caught up in the angst of the moment. It accompanies the words, “I miss you.” And if it wasn’t for Ali’s conversation with his daughter as background noise, one would simply soak in the gut-wrenching pain of their separation. The juxtaposition of Ali trying his absolute best to cling to his family as Rue continues to isolate herself from her loved ones and push herself further into the abyss makes my heart physically hurt.

Ms. Marsha’s spell-binding words of wisdom about sobriety and relationships compared to Rue’s tired exhaustion imminently displayed on her face make the viewer a little wary of what comes next. Her misunderstanding of a juvenile relationship with Jules is made clear when Ali confronts her about the fact that the two of them never had a real conversation about their feelings for one another. Rue’s distrust in the idea that things will eventually work themselves out stems from the fact that she feels disappointed by how her loved ones have left her so far. She eventually spirals into this negatively destructive way of thinking. She cognitively recognizes and justifies getting left behind because she thinks and believes she deserves terrible things in life. She lists examples of past deeds to further cement her argument. But Ali counters back with the simple statement that “Drugs change who you are as a person.” Regardless of her actions, he believes she is still a genuinely good individual while she argues that she is absolutely not. My favourite part of this whole conversation and the entire episode is the manner in which Ali questions Rue’s negative cognitive patterns. Her brain and mind essentially excuse bad behaviour by convincing her that she will never be a good person. Hence she can never forgive herself, and thus, she will continue to remain in this cyclical pattern. Our actions may be inexcusable, but they do not line up with our intentions. The inevitable human struggle is not whether we are fundamentally good or bad, evil, flawed or perfect, but if we are (and again, not to quote my other favourite show, The Good Place) trying to be a better person than we previously were. If we recognize that our actions are wrong and we are capable of experiencing remorse and regret for said actions, who's to say we are entirely incapable of change. This reductive polarizing, and dismissive way of thinking is characteristic of the brains of most people living with a mental illness. Our outside influences, such as drugs, can all be contributing external factors to how we conduct ourselves through life. Ali’s short bit about redemption and human beings deeming actions unforgivable forever can easily be paralleled to direct conversations we have online about “cancel culture”. The phenomenon of dismissing and reducing someone to their mistakes instead of allowing them to grow from them is a nice sentiment. Still, if we do not truly take accountability into action and witness no real changes or remorse, we can quickly get stuck in that cycle. Even if our beliefs do not line up with our actions, drugs can eventually change that. The belief system we hold so dearly, the convictions we strongly feel, can all be washed away by the simple use of drugs, Ali explains as he tells Rue about his family background. His experiences with abuse and his eventual hypocrisy as he plays the role he always feared in his family leave the viewer speechless. As we watch him tell his tale of regret, there is no woe or sorrow in admitting he is or isn’t a fundamentally good or bad person, just the thought of his attempt to change his ways that impacts the viewer.

As the viewer waits with bated breath to see what comes out of Rue’s mouth next, it is not a surprise (to me personally). Rue has no intention of staying sober because she has no intention of staying alive much longer. Ali asks her why she feels that way. She responds with her sentiments about the cruelty of the world. Ali understands. We truly are living in dark times, witnessing truly horrific events, and the fact that we even have the capacity to care any longer is indicative of our will to stay alive. It doesn’t make much sense when you think about it, but when you are so sad, so grief-stricken by the news, by the world’s turn of events, by the mere thought of witnessing more tragedy that you cannot bear to be alive any longer, it means that you are deeply invested. Invested in the way things will turn out even if you do not personally believe you want to participate or even be privy to being complicit in a system that does nothing but churn out pain, anger, and hatred. When I was at the lowest point in my life and attempted to end my own life, I was overwhelmed by the goings-on of the world. As emotionally drained as Rue is, a part of her still cares. She wants her sister and mother to know that she really tried. Just as I wanted and still want my parents and friends to be okay without me when I do eventually leave this earth. Of course, I care about what happens to them. The idea that suicide or suicidal ideation is inherently selfish is so contradictory to the reality of how suicidal individuals genuinely feel. It is the opposite. We care more than most, and we care to the point that it hurts to extend another moment of kindness to ourselves amid all the chaos and madness of the world. But still, we try. We do our best. Ali believes in Rue. He has faith in her.

The entire episode ends on a melancholy note as Rue and Ali depart the diner with Rue wistfully staring out the window as he drives her home. Ali loves his conversations with Rue and vice-versa. The fact that two people can be sitting at a diner alone on Christmas Eve talking about the beauty and cruelty of the world and everything ranging from politics to addiction to suicide to love to family and anything in between goes to show us that humans will always find a way. The fact that two people struggling and suffering from addiction can find their own way about and amidst the chaos of the world and still have these meaningful conversations about life and existence tells us that ultimately, Trouble Don’t Last Always.

[excuseme-youpretty]

Anonymous

Pairing: Kim Taehyung & Park Jimin (Platonic soulmates)

Side Pairings: None

Rating: G / Suitable for all audiences

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1432

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Notes: This was supposed to be a neat little warm-up drabble to ease my way into writing. I ended up taking things far too seriously. But look how cute and fluffy it is!

I’m always willing to take requests for little drabbles so feel free to hit up my ask box. This particular drabble idea was requested by @toruhagakure1a​ ♥ Enjoy!

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You don't know his name.

But you know that his face is painfully beautiful. His skin is as rich and dark as your favourite salted caramels, the ones that your beloved Halmeoni would sneak into your palm at the end of her visits because she has always loved your cheeks to be a little bit fuller. 

His lips are plump and intricately shaped, with a few moles dotted around the bow of his lips and just underneath a creased lash-line. His smile is broad, as bright a thousand-watt bulb and in the most peculiar rectangular shape. And his eyes are dark, impossibly so, but they gleam with mirth as though he is holding on to a jovial secret which you could only wish to discover.

He exudes a vibrancy which completely belies his status as a brand new student; one who had the misfortune of transferring to one of Seoul's most prestigious highschools part-way through the term. 

He is sparkling and enigmatic. And you are completely captivated.

You don't know his name.

But you know that his large ears are far too big for his head. Round, curved and protruding between a curtain of neon-bright tangerine hair. They hold a pair of black geometric earrings, dress code be damned, with a duo of similar violations looped over his index and ring finger, respectively. 

With the hemline of his trousers just barely extending past the base of his calves, you can clearly see the mismatched print of his clashing socks. The fit of his jacket is atrocious, practically swallowing his broad shoulders whole. He even has to pitch them close to his jawline to avoid tearing through the material. 

He has the presence of someone who abides by spontaneity alone. As though he had chosen to forego a proper uniform fitting in order to succumb to his own chaotic instincts. 

Clearly, this student is a man who marches to the beat of his own drum, however wild and unpredictable the percussion may be. And as you run your trembling fingertips back and forth across your silk tie - freshly laundered and pressed that morning - you cannot help but to admire his tenacity.

You don't know his name. 

But you know that he has an adorable affinity for tigers. You can see them plastered all over his notebook, some haphazardly doodled with heavy paws and slanted whiskers whilst others are artistic illustrations highlighted by the downstroke of a glitter pen.

They are each surrounded by a bouquet of asymmetric purple hearts, some with anthropomorphic smiles and others containing a single consonant symbolizing victory. 

Even as he throws himself down into the vacant desk beside you, taking a little longer than necessary to get settled, you can see his fingertips shading detailed feline features across a blank canvas of lined paper.  

He is a man of relentless energy, and the hand which is not preoccupied by his enthusiastic sketching reaches absentmindedly into the pocket of his too-tight jacket to fish free a small tube of lip balm with a red top.

He pops the cap with ease, massaging a film of sweet strawberry over his pout without even glancing up from the intricacy of his artwork. For a single moment, one which seems to linger in the air for far longer than you deem absolutely necessary, you cling to the visual of his petal-pink tongue catching on his smile as though he were savouring the fruity tang of his balm.

Something inside you aches imperceptibly as you watch the strange boy return his lip balm back inside his pocket. Your own plump lips suddenly feel far too dry and in desperate need of nourishment. 

You don't know his name.

But the moment that your beloved teacher rises from her desk, her wrinkled hands folded politely in front of her person and her smile incredibly fond, and encourages all students to branch out into pairs for today's science experiment, he leaps toward you as though you have been friends for several millennia. 

"Hi!" He exclaims loudly, his voice akin to freshly incinerated gunpowder; a shocking juxtaposition to the childlike innocence of his fine, elven features. 

He drags his chair across the floor with unbridled enthusiasm, rickety metal grating shrilly across hardwood floors, until he is comfortably situated right beside you. He is pressed so unbelievably close that you can feel hot, arid heat radiating from the thick of his thigh. 

The sensation makes your head spin akin to a catherine wheel balancing precariously on the apex of a toothpick, an uptake of momentum which twirls and twirls until you have to bite your nails into the wood of your desk to keep you from toppling over.

Your pumpkin-haired companion glances at you expectantly. A tinted eyebrow piques high upon his forehead, his lips mirroring that adorable 

oblong grin from earlier. And when his dark eyes begin to bubble and froth with the familiar glint of smothered secrets, your fingertips buzz like television static. 

If only you had some sort of key in order to better understand him, to decipher the cryptic code nestled inside his iris. 

Perhaps then you would be able to accurately deduce whether or not he feels the same magnetic pull within his soul that you do, tugging on your insides like a marionette string from the moment he illuminated your classroom. 

You don't know his name.

But the longer you stare at him the quicker your mouth transforms into a sunstroked savanna. 

Your naturally rosy cheeks have darkened considerably, lush roses flowering open atop your cheekbones, and a film of mist freckles like dew across your lash-line. 

All at once you are struck by how completely out of character the numbness of tongue is.

Your social skills are frequently unparalleled. You can maintain a conversation for hours, effortlessly navigating through a myriad of pleasantries and poorly-conceived jokes with relative ease. You know when to pause and when to listen intently to your conversational partner's statements and questions. 

And you really do listen. There is a reason you were voted class president, after all.

But there's just something about this perplexing stranger with the highlighter hair and the boxy smile. Something which has your brainwaves skidding to an unceremonious hault.

Thankfully, he takes notice of your vocal paralysis for long enough to sit upright. He pushes his unfathomably long fingertips through his hair and chuckles sweetly, the sound resonating like heavy rain on asphalt. 

"Let me try again. Hi, I'm Taehyung!"

Taehyung. His name is Taehyung. 

It takes a minute for you to find your voice. The sobering sting of slanted teeth against your bottom lip is just barely enough to condition you back into proper functionality. 

"I… I'm Jimin. Park Jimin." You whisper, your words tasting like dry cotton inside your mouth.

Without a moment of hesitation, Taehyung reaches across your desk and braids his large fingertips between the narrow junctures of your own. His touch is feather light and strangely familiar, like the brush of synthetic fur against your cheek as you huddle a nighttime companion close to your chest. A safety blanket, almost.

Taehyung smothers your petite palm underneath a verifiable blanket of sun-kissed skin and crisp cool rings, guiding your hand to rest against his chestplate.

"Listen here, Jimin-ah." He announces, seemingly unaffected by his use of the honorific. "You and I are gonna be best best best friends, yeah? I can already tell!"

Your soul burns, gasoline and petroleum, a lit fuse sizzling and popping betwixt your veins like a serpent.

Taehyung's eyes are bright and clear, unobfuscated by any traces of doubt or uncertainty. His smile is a concentrated flicker of pure sunlight, his pinky finger extending out toward your own.

That magnetic pull returns to your chest once more, blossoming vibrantly between the perimeters of your ribcage and tugging incessantly until you link your (much smaller) pinky around Taehyung's own.

"Okay." You breathe in a rush, trusting him unconditionally.

You know his name.

But now it is simply not enough. 

You long to discover every little detail about him.  From the pandora's box of his imperceptible eyes to the reason why his mere presence is enough to trigger aerial somersaults within your heart. 

You have a catalogue of questions swirling around inside your brain, your consciousness completely overstimulated, and yet one thought remains at the forefront of your mind; from now on you and Taehyung are a pair, a unit.

Jimin and Taehyung. 

Taehyung and Jimin.

Best friends forever; that is what you both pinky promised. 

And he can't hide from you now - you know his name.

[onestowatch]

‘Dissect’ Podcast Host Cole Cuchna on Taking a Critical Lens to Tyler, the Creator and Kanye’s Sunday Service [Q&A]

Do you have lingering questions on the funk-driven thematic narratives surrounding Kendrick Lamar’s masterpiece album To Pimp a Butterfly? Or are you still struggling with balancing Kanye West’s genre-defining masterpiece My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and his public persona? Chances are you, as we all do, still have an itching question or two surrounding every move Frank Ocean has made throughout his enigmatic career. Well, then Dissect is exactly the podcast for you. 

Hosted by Cole Cuchna, Dissect is every music nerd’s dream come true. Each season of the hit podcast goes in-depth on one pivotal figure in music and their work–from Kendrick Lamar and To Pimp a Butterfly, Kanye West and My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, to the mythos of Frank Ocean. Simply put, you need to be listening to Dissect. 

In his latest season, Cuchna takes an academic approach to one of hip-hop’s most radical figures, Tyler, the Creator. In the midst of examining Tyler, the Creator’s evolution as an artist and the themes of isolation and identity that surround his landmark album Flower Boy, we caught up with Cuchna to discuss everything from dissecting hip-hop’s most pivotal figures to Kanye West’s Sunday Service.

OTW: As a fellow music nerd, would love to know what was the turning point where you thought to yourself that spending hours on deep-diving into the intricacies of an album was how you most wanted to spend your free time?

Cuchna: It really stemmed from my experience studying composition in college. You’d get assigned papers and I came to really love researching a single piece of music, diving deep into the composer who wrote it, the time in history it was created -- all of it. When I graduated, part of me really missed doing that, which is one of the reasons I created Dissect.

OTW: What is it about a particular artist or album that draws you to dissecting them and their work?

Cuchna: I try to find a nice balance between now and forever. In other words, something that represents our present day but also contains something universal and timeless about the human experience. For example, To Pimp a Butterfly is very much a story about the black experience in contemporary American society, but also a deeply personal story about a man coming of age, dealing with anxiety, self-doubt, which of course are universal struggles.

OTW: Would you say there was a hip-hop album or era that was integral in you falling in love with the genre?

Cuchna: Not in particular. I’ve loved hip-hop since I was a boy. My first CD was Warren G. And even though I’ve gotten into just about every genre of music there is, hip hop has been a constant for me, and I’ve loved to experience its evolution over these last 20 plus years.

OTW: From Kanye West, Kendrick Lamar, Frank Ocean, Lauryn Hill to now Tyler, the Creator, hip-hop clearly fascinates you. Do you think a season of Dissect will ever focus at an artist outside of the realm of hip-hop?

Cuchna: It’s definitely a constant debate in my head. Like I said, all types of music and genres interest me, but I also like the idea of approaching hip-hop academically since it’s somewhat rare.

OTW: Historically, hip-hop has not received the same academic weight as other genres. Why do you think this is?

Cuchna: Well, the genre is pretty young, and it always takes time for things to work itself into academia. Classical music still dominates academia, largely because there’s so much established literature and repertoire that took hundreds of years to develop. I think you’re starting to see a shift now, though. Artists like Kendrick Lamar, Jay-Z, and even Kanye West to some degree are starting to get academic attention, and my hope is that we build off each other’s work and develop a literature that can grow exponentially.

OTW: What was it about Tyler, the Creator’s Flower Boy that made you want to take a critical eye to it this season?

Cuchna: I was initially drawn to its production -- the chord progressions, the jazz-inspired harmonies and the way Tyler uses his instruments orchestrally. I’ve been wanting to incorporate more music theory into the show so all that was attractive. Thematically, the album contains a well-executed narrative and a number of thought out symbols and themes. There’s universal themes of materialism, loneliness, and identity but also a very specific story about Tyler’s journey to self-acceptance, which involves him coming to terms with his sexual identity. So it had that now and forever dynamic I discussed.

OTW: As a noted Kanye expert, having devoted an entire season to My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, what were your thoughts on his Sunday Service performance at Coachella?

Cuchna: I thought it was pretty compelling both visually and sonically. I can see how existing inside that world for a few hours a week could be pretty transcendent. Seemed like the whole concept began as a healing exercise for Kanye, but because of social media, there became a public demand for it.

There’s definitely an interesting juxtaposition between the performance of gospel songs and gospel interpretations of Kanye’s songs. Like, who are we worshipping right now, Jesus or Kanye? Pair that with those mono-chromatic sweatsuits and there’s definitely some cultish overtones going on. But jokes aside, I think it was pretty innovative to bring something like that to Coachella -- one of the many things only Kanye West can dream up.

OTW: We focus a lot on emerging artists in our vein of work–from BROCKHAMPTON to Dominic Fike–are there any current rising artists or groups you would love to spend hours upon hours dissecting their work?

Cuchna: Recently, I’ve been listening to this artist called Sundai from London. She’s actually a listener of Dissect who shared her project with me and it ended up being really really good – in vein of SZA, Jorja Smith, Daniel Caesar. Really great and memorable vocal melodies, great musicians playing with her. Sundai is definitely worth checking out. Also looking forward to hearing more from the artist Quadry. Definitely give him a listen.

OTW: Speaking on current trends in hip-hop, we’ve seen an influx of hybrid genres, from Juice WRLD’s incorporation of rock and emo to even Lil Nas X and country. What do you think it is about hip-hop that it allows this sense of fluidity? 

Cuchna: The sub-genres and cross-pollination occurring in hip-hop is one of my favorite things about the genre right now. You heard a similar phenomenon occur with rock music in the 90s. I think it’s great because it encourages experimentation without limitations. For a few decades, it seemed like there was a lot of requirements to meet in hip-hop. You had to dress a certain way, had to have a certain subject matter, a certain background. Now, hip-hop is much more free and you’re allowed to pretty much be who you are, which shows how much the genre and the people within the genre have evolved.

OTW: Any hints at who will be the focus of Season 5?

Cuchna: Nice try :)

To hear more of Cuchna’s musings on some of hip-hop’s most pivotal figures and their work, be sure to check out Dissect.

[orientalistart]

Ludwig Deutsch (Austrian, 1855-1935)

Early morning, Id el-fitr

signed, inscribed and dated 'L. Deutsch Le Caire 1902' (lower left)

Despite the startling clarity of his pictures, the details of Ludwig Deutsch's life remain elusive and vague. Brought up in Vienna, he studied at the Akademie der Bildenden Künste before moving to Paris in 1878. There he befriended several Orientalist artists, including Arthur von Ferraris, Jean Discart, and his lifelong friend Rudolf Ernst. It is likely that he studied with the French history painter Jean-Paul Laurens prior to his participation in the Société des Artistes Français from 1879 to 1925; his other instructors and mentors, however, are unknown. (Deutsch's first Orientalist works appeared in 1881, well before his inaugural trip to Egypt and the Middle East. It is possible that he was influenced early on in Paris by the widely circulating pictures of Jean-Léon Gérôme.) In 1898, Deutsch earned an honorable mention at the Société's annual Salon, and, in 1900, just two years before the present work was painted, he was awarded a gold medal at the Exposition Universelle. Later, having established himself as the center of an entire school of Austrian Orientalist painting, he would receive the Chevalier de la Légion d'Honneur. In 1919, Deutsch gained French citizenship and, after a brief absence, began exhibiting again under the name "Louis Deutsch." (It is assumed that Deutsch left France during the First World War due to the official hostilities between France and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. He may also have ventured to North Africa at this time.) In an effort to stay current and revive what was now a waning genre, Deutsch's technique in the years after 1910 began to change; his late pictures hovered between the highly detailed, polished surfaces for which he – and several other Orientalist painters – had become renowned, and the looser brushwork and more highly keyed palette of Post-Impressionism.

Throughout this long and varied career, Deutsch consciously avoided the picturesque and anecdotal qualities that marked so many contemporary Orientalist works, and chose instead a far broader and more modern approach. Drawing from all aspects of Middle Eastern life – especially Egyptian – and isolating and scrutinizing particular moments in time, Deutsch's paintings are today seen as verging on the cinematic, with all the spectacular and static qualities of a promotional film still. (Deutsch's process may again have been partially indebted to the works of Gérôme, whose own paintings were often marked by both high drama and a chilling frigidity.) His intensely detailed series of guard or sentinel pictures (one of which, The Nubian Guard [private collection], was completed in this same year), bazaar scenes, and images of the local literati were facilitated by an enormous collection of photographs amassed in Cairo, many of them purchased from the well-known studio of G. Lékégian. (Deutsch also acquired hundreds of decorative objets while abroad, which furnished both his Paris studio at 11 rue Navarin and the Orientalist pictures he produced there. The tombak, or ewer, in the present work, for example, placed in a basket atop the woman's head, was a favorite and oft-repeated souvenir.)

The subject of Early Morning, 'Id el-fitr, though less common in Deutsch's oeuvre, was a familiar one in the nineteenth century, in both literature and art.1. Writing in 1885, Thomas Patrick Hughes offered the following description of the events that took place on this religious holiday, including the rituals that Deutsch refers to here:

On one or more days of this festival [" 'Idu 'L-Fitr"], some or all of the members of most families, but chiefly the women, visit the tombs of their relatives. This they also do on the occasion of the other grand festival. ["Idu 'l-Azha"] The visitors, or their servants, carry palm branches2, and sometimes sweet basil, to lay upon the tomb which they go to visit. The palm-branch is broken into several pieces, and these, or the leaves only, are placed on the tomb. Numerous groups of women are seen on these occasions, bearing palm-branches, on their way to the cemeteries in the neighborhood of the metropolis. They are also provided, according to their circumstances, with cakes, bread, dates, or some other kind of food, to distribute to the poor who resort to the burial-ground on these days. Sometimes tents are pitched for them; the tents surround the tombs which is the object of the visit.3

In addition to Hughes' concise account, Deutsch would have had many other sources from which to draw. His personal library included several volumes detailing the intricacies of Egyptian culture, many of them illustrated by his compatriots and peers. Indeed, the drawings by Leopold Carl Müller (1834-1892) in Georg Ebers' Egypt: Descriptive, Historical, and Picturesque, published in German in 1878 and translated into English a few years after, may have inspired aspects of Deutsch's composition4. So too, contemporary photographs and popular illustrated newspapers – often used by Deutsch as references for his paintings - may have aided the artist in the creation of this image, either directly or in mood 5 (Fig. 1). Unique to Deutsch, however, are the brilliant color scheme (note how the red of the young girl's dress is mirrored by the close-fitting caps of the seated men and the rose petals strewn along the ground) and the subtle symbolism of the scene. The fragility of the flowers (a common adornment for tombs during special ceremonies) may be meant as a reminder of the brevity of life and, in the juxtaposition of Arab children and well-worn tombstones, the continuity of Egyptian culture and the circle of life are pointedly suggested. Deutsch's interest in the distinctive form of the Arab tomb and tombstone may be gauged by the repetition of the motif in another important painting of the period. The enduring popularity of such subjects among his contemporaries, moreover, extended far beyond Deutsch's adopted Parisian home; the present work was acquired in Cairo more than a decade after it was painted, perhaps during Deutsch's return to the region during World War I.

We are grateful to Emily M. Weeks, Ph.D., for writing this cataloguing note.

1 'Id el-fitr, or "feast to break the fast," is an important annual Muslim holiday marking the end of Ramadan. On this festive day, a celebratory meal is had, ending the month-long period of fasting. The sheer number of cemetery (Arabic, maqbara) scenes in Orientalist art is striking: Jean-Léon Gérôme, Carl Haag (1820-1915), William James Müller (1812-1845), and Amedeo Preziosi (1816-1882) were just a few of the many artists who tackled this subject. In these works, Shaykh's tombs are often prominently featured, the domed silhouettes of which provide much architectural interest. Though not made the focus of the composition, in the middle of Deutsch's picture, in the distant background, the dome of one such structure may be discerned. 2 Palm branches were richly significant in Islamic culture; in ancient Egypt they symbolized immortality. Their presence in this exotic image would have brought a sense of familiarity to European Christian viewers, for whom palms also held special meaning. 3 Thomas Patrick Hughes, A Dictionary of Islam, London, 1885, p. 196. 4 Ebers (1837-1898) was a German archaeologist and novelist. Müller would contribute several illustrations to various editions of his book beginning in 1878. Perhaps the most influential publications for Orientalist artists during the nineteenth century were Edward William Lane's An Account of the Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians (London, 1836) and Owen Jones's The Grammar of Ornament (London, 1856). Deutsch is known to have referenced both of these in the details and subjects of his compositions. (In Lane's volume, an image of an Arab tomb and tombstone is included [p. 524], along with a detailed description of its structure and use [p. 522].) 5 There were numerous cemeteries in and around Cairo which Deutsch may have visited or known and referenced here. Among the most widely photographed and illustrated were the Arab cemetery near the Bâb en-Naṣr and the "Southern Cemetery," or Qarafa, extending south of the Citadel near the mosque of Ibn Tulun. The sobriety of Deutsch's composition would have been shared by members of the Orientalist community at this time: 1902 saw the deaths of James Jacques Joseph Tissot (1836-1902) and Jean-Joseph Benjamin-Constant (1845-1902), and Frederick Goodall (1822-1904) declared bankruptcy in this year.

[victorstabin-blog]

Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.

[victorstabin-blog]

”NUBIAN WOMAN” by Victor Stabin Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.

[victorstabin-blog]

”MY MADONNA” by Victor Stabin Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.

[victorstabin-blog]

”KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE BALL” by Victor Stabin Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.

[victorstabin-blog]

”Hatchlings” by Victor Stabin Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.

[victorstabin-blog]

”Fish Ferris Wheel” by Victor Stabin Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.

[victorstabin-blog]

”ARIELLE IN SLUMBERLAND” by Victor Stabin Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.

[victorstabin-blog]

”TOM OVER MANANA” Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.

[victorstabin-blog]

”FEARFUL SYMMETRY” by Victor Stabin Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.

[victorstabin-blog]

”Christy And Tom” Why Turtles?

The oncologist informed me I had a tumor sitting next to my heart the size of an orange. She said that I had a 50% chance of survival. I was 44 years old.

One difference between fine art and illustration is that an illustration assignment begins with a phone call. I no longer had the luxury of time or the desire to wait for that call to get illustration assignments. I wanted to create a personal series of paintings and this was my time.

Chemotherapy primarily works by poisoning fast growing cancer cells and in doing so it wreaks havoc all over the body. One of my negative symptoms was a kind of anemia that reduced the oxygen to my brain. While the chemo brings you down you’re given steroids to get you up. The result is a steroid/chemo haze generally called “chemo brain.” In my haze I wrote on my guitar, or should I say, repeatedly slammed out “Three Chords That I Like.”

Needless to say the song had three chords, only five words, and I sang it loudly. It was horrifying, but this song was the first step to figuring out my turtle series of paintings.

What to Paint?

I gave myself an assignment: Use three elements that would appear in each painting, to hold a series together.

I spent about ten summers on Fire Island New York – one side of the island sand bar, the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side the Great South Bay of Long Island. The moonlit bay was as magical a place as I have ever been. My favorite element was the soft edge created by the grass where the water meets the land.

The ellipse was my favorite shape. Elliptical orbits define the shape of the universe plus I had had a long standing secret love affair with a very special set of drawing tools – my elliptical tracing guides.

Last but not least, Turtles. For some reason I had always loved looking at other painters’ paintings with turtles.

Why Turtles? Part A

Until this point in my life, I had primarily lived in New York City and did not have much contact with nature or the wild. When I was 26 years old I visited friends in the Caribbean. My island friend Ray said, “Man, if you can catch a turtle you will get a ride, man”. While snorkeling I encountered a sea turtle and tried to catch “her.” She allowed me to get as close as a couple of inches away, but never touch. We swam together for half an hour, and then she rapidly vanished off into a distant depth. Alone, I found myself awed by her playful intelligence, humbled by her dominance of the environment, hypnotized by her graceful moves, dazzled by her beauty and stunned by my ignorance.

Years later I saw a painting by Renee Magritte, Le Jouer Secret (1927), where in his seminal surrealist way he portrayed a leatherback turtle floating above a cricket match.

Soon after seeing the Magritte painting, I was walking past the Barnes and Noble Bookstore on Astor Place, NYC when I spotted a poster by Marshall Arisman, my art college teacher. It was a stunning image of a man’s head exploding into a bright yellow aura as a turtle floated past him. This was the tipping point. I could not help seeing the connection between these two paintings and what I was to start creating myself.

After two years of chemo I was declared cured. It had been a rough two years with nightmare struggles. But the struggles weren’t over—my first wife left me soon after my final treatments. Though my life had been given back to me, it was going to be different.

I was alone for five whole days and then I met Joan. Four months passed and I asked her to marry me. A month after my engagement to Joan she told me she wasn’t suffering jet lag from a London business trip, but that we were going to have a baby. This is a surprise. I was told my course of chemo was so intense it would leave me sterile for ten years. Life was moving on—fast.

I continued to do the work on the “Turtle Series”. As it progressed, I could see autobiographical allegories emerge. I started to wonder why I was so comfortable painting these creatures and having them tell my stories. I start to search for reasons why this series was so easy to connect with.

Why Turtles? Part B- Still Searching

A turtle was my first pet-like animal. In the 1950’s almost every kid had one until the second week, when it died. Intellectually this just did not seem like enough history to hinge all this work on.

Though I like the tension/juxtaposition created by using what I consider to be a borderline pet as a warm and fuzzy affectionate symbol, I eventually discovered the book “Biophilia Hypothesis” by E.O. Wilson. Very simply put, humans have coexisted closely with animals until as recently as 200 years ago pre-industrial revolution.

We evolved as creatures deeply enmeshed with the intricacies of nature, and still have this affinity with nature ingrained in our genotype today. Wilson supported his theory with scientific accounts of human and other species interrelations that read more like fables than reality. The more I read the more I saw the connection to the work I am doing. To date this is the easiest and most personal connection I have had with my work. It seems only natural to paint my family in the context of this beautiful mythically iconic creature. Lifespan aside, I feel these paintings give me an immortality that my children will pass onto their children. These pictures are my stories. The more of this work I do the longer I live.