Lying in wait
An Eldritch horror that is indescribable, and unspeakable lurks in the background of every humans mind. The uncertain, the unwelcome, that terrible thing that would upset our apple cart. Unapproachable and hideous the path of most resistance. It’s malevolence haunts our past and hinders our future. Shapeless and amorphous enigma that waits in our future cackling at our desperate attempts to identify and avoid it. What if we could make peace with the horrors of the future before we met them? What if all it took was a little acceptance that there is inevitable catastrophe and apocalypse awaiting all of us?
The Baleful Blossom is an incubator for that enigma. Laying in wait the unspeakable throbs and pulsates knocking at its shell. Have you prepared for its cataclysmic eruption into your reality? Can you hold the shell together through force of will? Can you defeat it once it shows its terrifying visage? Or will it conqueror you and smash your resolve?
Big questions for such a modest drawing if I do say so myself. This drawing emerged during a period of intense contemplation after a painful crisis that tested my meddle. It’s meaning slowly elaborated itself over time and now in its finished state I find comfort in coming face to face with the metaphorical precipice of destruction, and knowing that the thing that emerges from its ovum of chaos to destroy us will endure beyond the triflings of human kind.
The textures and hues are meant to evoke the feeling of the corporeal and the twisted inanimal nature of the thing is to evoke a feeling of the unordinary which comes from suffering. Suffering being the first noble truth until the day it overwhelms us and we return to worms. But, I’m not making this type of art to slop around in the muck of a depressed goth kid’s diary. I want to remind myself and those I might resonate with that everything is temporary and its better to rage against the dying of the light as so famously put by Dylan Thomas. We live in the looming shadow of calamity pacified by the clicking gears of normality, but one day that magnificent machine will break down and a screeching atonal whir will fill the air as weeping and gnashing of teeth permeates our once sublime clockwork lives. So rage rage against that inevitable revelation, rage while you still have the vitality. While your bones move and your eyes still see generate what beauty you can.