The Book of After

What? Art in color? How can this be?

I kind of took the line of "machinery insect," mentally mixed in Peacefield's lyric of "a state machine," and ran with it. Also, there was no way I was going to pass up an opportunity to draw bugs. So we have the mantis, famous for the females eating the heads off their partners after mating, and representing in this artwork both as bodily autonomy and a symbol of Sister's ruthlessness.

It is guarding her from hornets, which like bees are often hive insects, and have a Queen. The Queen is protected and served by the hive, so long as she is producing offspring. A Queen that fails to perform is disposed of by the hive. So the hornets here are representing society's expectations of a woman to procreate, and that it will care for her only if she is performing her "duties" to society's standards.

I am reposting this one, because the original post I put up got flagged for being too mature for sweet innocent eyes. Probably for the pictures of my references, which I do understand, though I was hoping somehow I would get a pass. It's fine, but I am putting up this one without the references, because I am very proud of it and want it to see the light of day.

From the very beginning of this project, I had a very clear image in my head of how I would illustrate this song. It took me so long to get to it because I wasn't sure my drawing skills were up to the challenge. I've felt that way a lot during this, but with every drawing, I am learning to not only trust myself more, but to just jump in and have fun with the process, even if I am uncertain if I can do the piece justice. Every one of these I do, I feel like I get a little better, and that alone makes me excited enough to keep going.

More about references and inspiration under the cut (trigger warning for a little blood and unclothed Ken doll):

I have a little bit of news for anyone in the Seattle area! There is going to be a six-month pop up bookstore called Paper Pushers, run by the Seattle Printers' Guild, and they will be carrying a small run of my Infernal Psalms zine! (As well as a non-Ghost zine I made last year, called Pursuivant)

The bookstore will open April 26th and run through November, and can be visited at 1200 5th Ave in downtown Seattle (the former IBM building.) It sounds like there will be lots of other neat zines and art and gifts there, too.

Tiny details are the name of the game for this one. A lot of fun when I was drawing the clock, a lot harder when I was trying to draw the teeny-tiny couples. I had to buy a .03 lead pencil for it, because everything else was too thick.

(That's what she said)

My original idea for this one was to make the more traditional shoulder devil and angel, in a more classic illuminated manuscript style. One pouring the other a drink, the latter offering the former a piece of meat. And then I figured, why go generic when there's a pair of canonical twins that I could draw? And that's how we ended up here. Also included are a befriended rat, and a many a thorn standing between.

We are back, baby!

The first time I heard this song, I did have to look up what a cruciger globus actually was. I'd seen them before in shows and movies, but had never known what they were called. I also had to look up what the Nicene creed was when I first heard Satan Prayer. I have learned all kinds of new things since finding Ghost.

The Seattle ritual was amazing. I know, I am a week late posting this, oopsie. A lot has happened over the past week, and honestly I have just been trying to emotionally recoup from a very wonderful but intense day. Add to that that all my work printers decided to take advantage of my post-show mental sugar-crash by getting up to Shenanigans, and time sort of got away from me.

I have started the next drawing for this series (From the Pinnacle to the Pit, anyone?) but it's not ready to be shared yet. So in the meantime, here is the sort of self-portrait I did for the back cover of my zine. I have been fascinated lately by drawings of saints where they are holding their severed heads, quite calmly, even as their neck is gushing blood. And the halos are always where their head should be, if it were still properly attached. I might draw a Terzo version for the next issue of the Infernal Psalms zine.

And a mostly fangirling ramble about my ritual experience under the cut:

It is inevitable that the art I do for this project is going to be influenced by my own perceptions of the songs and my own personal experiences. Art will always have two meanings- what the creator intended, and what the audience interprets and adds to it.