Ouija

Guess what I made! Indeed, a Ouija board! I'm so proud of it. I came up with an idea for my final mixed media project, and I was so keen to get it done that I just made it. Boy,  it feels good. This way, even if my mind changes for my final, I have still made an incredibly legitimate Ouija board.

For those of you who are somehow unfamiliar with Ouija, it is a board game type situation. There's a lot of speculation and argument to whether or not it's real. I personally believe that it isn't. Originally, Ouija was marketed and sold as 'talking boards', and you asked questions that you needed answered. Kind of like a psychic. It has also been akin to the seance, only less dangerous because you are not summoning a spirit into our realm. Or something. I'm fuzzy on the details. I would be interested in attending a seance, but other than the Exorcist, there has never been anything that insane attached to using Ouija. My siblings, cousins, friends, and myself used to play Ouija, usually by making our own with scrabble pieces and using an overturned glass. Always a good time, especially with the excitement of wondering if it's real or not. I don't believe in ghosts, even though I have every reason to, but I'm overly fascinated with the paranormal. I'm just too skeptical. Nonetheless, I can appreciate the need to believe strongly in ghosts and the like. That's what inspired this soon-to-be installation.

I made it from a piece of thick plywood, that I had cut at Home Depot (helpful people!). All of it is hand carved, hand-written, hand-painted, hand-stained. A lot of handwork. It took me way less work than I anticipated, which is nice. I'm so happy with it, and I'd like to say a general thank you to all of the sources on the internet with helpful references that I utilized (especially in the lettering and how the words and characters are arranged). I kept this board quite simple. I decided that I didn't want to have any superfluous decorative carving, especially since I wanted it to look aged. I'm thinking about giving it a test spin, to make get some nice movement scratches in it. I'll need company for that, though.

After the critique for this, I don't know what I'll do with it. I guess making my own is a nice way to move into collecting ouija boards, but at the same time I might just offer it for sale. I'm not making a planchette for it, so if I do sell it, the person will have to go without. but then again, using a glass is cooler. I'm planning to hunt down a small jigger or undecorated shot glass, and that would work quite nicely.

Cemetery

Today, I visited one of the cemeteries in Calgary. Part of myself has been nagging me to go, and today was a lovely day to go. I've never been to a cemetery when there is ice and snow on the ground, and I kept slipping as I walked up the hill. 

Cemeteries are something that I really care about. They are peaceful places, a strong connection between ourselves and the natural world. Epitaphs are fascinating, and offer insight. Some markers are biographies, others are elusive mysteries. 

While I was wandering through one of the older parts of the cemetery, I came across one plot, of a young woman. I believe her name was Emily... or something close to that. I was shocked to discover that there was rubbish and filth everywhere. I don't know if people maintain any connection to their body after death, or keep an eye on their grave, or what any aspect of the after life is. I can't speak, and I don't really have an opinion. However, I do believe that symbols are to be respected. Especially the symbol of a person that was. They may just be a pile of bones, but that tombstone represents who that person was. It marks how long they were on this earth, and how much they meant to others, and all of these other aspects. To disrespect that... To deface such things, even just by leaving garbage... I don't understand it. It deeply upsets me. I cleaned up the garbage, and put it in one of the waste receptacles. It made me feel so sad. After I cleaned up several empty pill bottles, some abandoned earphones, some plastic alcohol bottles, a sock, and a glove, I wandered the cemetery until I found this small stone Church, tucked into shrubs and trees. It was such an idyllic scene, in the context of what a cemetery often instils. Or, rather, what the idea of a 'Churchyard' looks like. I'm not explaining it very well, but it reminded me of a poem by Walter De La Mare.  I can't quite remember the title, but it is about a cemetery in a churchyard. It is so tranquil and haunting, and comforting in the calmness of the poem. That is what I thought of when I came upon this small Church. 

A few minutes later, I made my way back down the hill. I hadn't realized it, but I had been in the cemetery for almost an hour. 

At the bottom of the hill, I saw something that saddened me. Several beer cans, and dozens of cigarette butts. A few bits of rubbish, like chip bag. This was away from the grave plots, but it should still be a sacred spot. It's part of a rock garden, with all of these trees, whispering away. I gathered up the garbage, but there wasn't a rubbish bin in sight. I couldn't carry all of it. Not to mention that I didn't want to just throw away that many cans. I placed them by the road, in hope that someone would see them and gather them. I have no idea how often the cemetery is maintained during the winter. Must not be often because of all of the ice. Still, I'm a hopeful person.

I left a note for the caretaker, just in case. The whole situation just saddens me. Perhaps I'll go back more regularly... With a small garbage bag and gloves. Littering is bad enough as it is... but why in a cemetery. 

The House Doctor

This is a project that I did for my mixed media class at school. It was an installation, with audio in the background. I got really good response to it, despite a lot of people feeling rather queasy towards the blood and the implications of the entire piece. 

I would like to begin by saying that the 'blood' in the bowl is not blood. It is incredibly believable blood, and the longer you leave it out, the more it looks crusted and like blood. However, it is not. It is a mixture of black tea and red food colouring. Watered down a tad because it was too dark. I thought that it would work, and it definitely did. 

This whole piece is a small vignette, suggesting an event that occurred under the care of a house doctor. What occurred, we don't know. We just know that it didn't end well, as is a situation that many country doctors making house calls would have had to deal with. Not everything can be fixed or helped, and this is a moment in time that testifies to the gravity of that reality. 

I was inspired by a song called 'O Death', and this image flashed to mind. 1930s-50s era country doctor, not visible, but elsewhere in the room or in the house. The residue of a death is on the table. Pocket watch stopped, crucifix laying on the table, covered with the wax that has dripped from the last flickering candle. It struck me as the kind of moment that occurs, and leads to the necessity of having morticians and undertakers. The reality of this humbled me, and so began my need to knit together my present vocation as an artist with the future path of an embalmer. It is a dark situation, and something that we don't want to discuss or think about. Never before did I really think about the fact that a death would have to occur before an embalmer doing their job. Of course, I did. I'm not wording it very well. I suppose that it's more that I didn't think of the history of this gravity, and how focused that sadness is. In this vignette I created, the house is the only place in the world that is witnessing that death. It expands beyond that place, but for a moment, it is in one place, affecting one group of people. Tragedy, but the rest of the world moves on. 

These are the kinds of things that I often think about. How tragedy affects pockets at a time, but it is how we respond to it that makes the difference. 

Every day I think about these things, the part of me that was likely once an embalmer and will be again (I hope), grows and I am more certain that this is important to me. It is overwhelming in its importance, and how it affects my world. 

That is the best way I can describe how I felt when I thought of this installation, and the themes that came along with. I felt overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, but certain that it something I need to accept, and something that I need to be involved with. I don't know if I could comfort the grievous family and friends, but ensuring that they know that their loved one has been treated with dignity and respect is important, and that is something I could do.

I am rambling. I don't even know if I'm making sense. Regardless... 

That is what triggered this art work.