Notes on the Writing Life: images

Notes on the Writing Life

Notes on the Writing Life
Showing posts with label images. Show all posts
Showing posts with label images. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Ask and ye shall find

.
.
Doug De La Matter, a reader of this blog, sent me the answer to my question: Who painted the image I pin in front of my computer—an image I find profoundly evocative of the creative process? (See my post below.)

The artist, it turns out, is Evariste Vital Luminais, from Nantes, France (1821-1896), and the name of the painting is "Enervés Jumièges," which refers to an ancient and tragic legend about the sons of Clovis II. 


Frankly, I don't really want to know what the painting represents because I've created my own story around it. What I do find quite interesting, however, is the evolution of the work. 


The first draft
The first study for the painting is, I've read, of torture. (No! Don't tell me that.)
The second draft
Second image shows a boy grieving:

The final
There are two versions of the final. The first, "The Sons of Clovis II," has a hopeless, leaden quality ...
 ...  quite different from the second, which is the one that "speaks" to me. In this one I like the way the man on the left stares into space in such a focussed way. I like to think he's on the edge of waking, thinking ... thinking ... .
For more on these evocative paintings, see this article on Wikipedia. For more on the work of Evariste Vital Luminais, click here

Thank you, Doug! He revealed that he was able to solve the mystery by posting the image on LinkedIn Questions and within 10 minutes was directed to images on tineye.com. Another person supplied a translation of a Wiki entry. All of which proves how incredible powerful Net research can be. 


A note on TinEye.com: this is an amazing search engine. You can upload an image, and it will tell you where else it is on the Net. Artists use it to make sure that their work isn't being used without permission, but I will find it useful, I'm sure, to track down the name and artist of an image. 

Sandra Gulland

*****
Website: http://www.sandragulland.com/
Blog: http://sandragulland.blogspot.com/
Facebook: http://bit.ly/sgullandFacebook
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Sandra_Gulland
Tumblr: http://sandragulland.tumblr.com/

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Good-bye Bunker

.
Today is my last day in my northern office—affectionately called The Bunker. I love the office I'll be moving to in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, but my Bunker in rural Ontario, overlooking fields and a maple forest, is my favourite writing space, and it's always hard to leave. Not only is it lovely and cosy and quiet, but this is where my books are, this is the core of my research library.

Your home is where your books are, someone said, and I believe that to be true.

Books everywhere!
Right now, the desk in the photo is covered with stacks of books: books to be considered, books without a place on my shelves. (Another problem, that!) Which books should I take with me? What research books am I going to need in the six months ahead? This is not a question that can be answered easily ... at least not by me.

With so little time left, I'll aim to simply tidy today, leaving post-it notes on all the various piles.

I can't take my bulletin board, alas
On the wall in front of the desk I have a framed print, a bulletin board and a Edward Gorey calendar. The bulletin board has inspiring images and quotes on it: "Want • Obstacle • Action," for example.

Images of creativity
Two of the images on the bulletin board are especially dear to me. One, of men carving up blocks of stone, is evocative of the heavy lifting of the revision process.


The other image is one I haven't been able to identify. (If you can identify it, I'd be eternally grateful!) It's of two people, possibly a man and a woman, floating on a platform on a lake, half-emmersed in water. This image captures, for me, the feeling of the creative process, of immersion in unconscious.



The two images—one evocative of the unconscious, the other of the conscious, I think—work together in any act of creation.

Should I take my Edward Gorey calendar? I've loved it so! No: I'll fast-forward through November and December, and in the Spring, on return, I'll put it in my keeper box. Ironically, I just peeked at the caption for November:
It would carry off objects of which it grew fond, 
And protect them by dropping them into the pond.
Construction image: Granite for monuments (for future monuments), 1939. Lithograph by Louis Lozowick.


Floating image: unknown to me. If you know, please write.

Sandra Gulland

*****
Website: http://www.sandragulland.com/
Blog: http://sandragulland.blogspot.com/
Facebook: http://bit.ly/sgullandFacebook
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Sandra_Gulland
Tumblr: http://sandragulland.tumblr.com/

image