dreary day

Maybe it will rain. Its been hot, humid and very different for us. I will not credit it directly or immediately to global warming as according to weather.com, it is not the max temperatures that have happened during this time. But it is a little shocking.
I am hoping for a big thunderboomer that blows the pictures off the walls (happened this weekend!) and gives us a little more rain as it is good for the batches of daffodils A. is patiently digging (he is getting paid, that's his incentive) in. There are another 300 bulbs from our friends at Van Englund...and it is such a huge treat in the cold spring to have handfuls of flowers to pick versus the parsimony we had two years ago.

More on Memento Mori
Am working with shapes of coffins and tombstones as vehicles to hold images. The headstones and footstones have a real vocabulary --the general shape and then these nice engraved typographic frames that are a subset of the design. Elegant without the type and pictures...Just a new little tangent for the study. Have also been drawing with a little more reference versus letting the good times roll and getting into trouble.

While searching coffins in the cybersphere, some very odd photos surfaced of gang members posing with their fellow gang member, upright in a coffin that is upright and sandwiched between the living. I had heard that there are some interesting rituals that are observed within the gangs and figure this type of photograph may capture some of that. I really had to look at it twice as it was so reminiscent of the victorian photographs of the dead, propped and dressed that were the last image of the person. Disturbing and yet I guess, comforting for those who need this type of finality. Is this final photograph a way of showing a group of friends in their last gathering, their final conversation before disbanding.

Isn't this image curious, with all of the men's heads on the same line and their hands doing the same. I am intrigued by the living hands on the white fabric surround, nearly touching the white gloved, folded hands of their friend. Once I started looking at the hands, I couldn't see the picture anymore. Somehow striking for me.