Oil on panel
My own contribution from the recent Tales from the Darkside show at LaBodega.
Rather drolly-or should I say troll-y, I got some push back on this when I posted it on social media from the usual self righteous quarters. How oddly ironic, that the dogmatic ever entreat that they be accepted in every faction of existence, yet never seem willing to extend the same courtesy themselves.
Happy Holidays from Starbucks anyone?
Regardless, they are a ways off the mark in their usual bobble headed outrage for this one.
It was originally planned for the series I’m working on “Paradiso’s Fall”, which has become something of a vignette of ill omens, pointing towards what I perceive as man kinds inevitable demise. I’m hearing the term “personal apocalypse” coined a lot since I first used it some months back, but I believe it’s a predisposition inherent within us all.
This piece, portraying the mother-the holy vessel or paragon of virtue, literally transformed to the symbol of that final nail, is just merely another emblem of a paternally manifested future, inherently pushed to its own end. If you’d have said “Enola Gay” and “Little Man”you’d have been on the money.
Anyone who further missed the point, clearly didn’t see the whacking great atomic symbol, smack bang at the center of the piece. But then, I daresay nuclear proliferation in the hands of a madman who loves to push buttons, barely warrants a semblance of grey matter either.
The worm coiling from the cuff, is just a further token of dehumanization, as we slither back toward the primal dirt from whence we came.
So perhaps its biblical after all.