Nun gets some culchah.
Aug. 12th, 2017 06:36 pmAfter dinner & dessert with the Tickler & friends, I went to the book launch party for Problem Glyphs by Eliza Gauger. (Her last name rhymes with "pager". I'd been pronouncing it wrong.)
Gauger is an illustrator. A few years back, she asked people to submit their problems and she would draw a sigil to fix it. Yes, that's a little bit woo, and the drawings certainly look woo with their rich symbolic vocabulary and mythological allusions; Gauger's love and knowledge of several different mythologies are deep. Gauger says that she herself hasn't been into the woo since her teens and I never was, of course, but something about those drawings makes me keep wanting more. It seems almost like engineered magic, black and white drawings that are always mirrored. She's done hundreds so far, with no end in sight.
My favorites among the sigils are the more recent ones with more details and higher concepts: a cephalopod's tentacles drawing a map of land, or a sewn-together bride of Frankenstein holding giant sewing needles with lighting passing through the eyes.
One thing that's absolutely arresting about the drawings is the problems that got submitted: everything from scholastic angst to surviving rape to mental & terminal illnesses. Gauger, who's no stranger to mental illness or sexual assault herself, says she gets migraines from reading them sometimes, which isn't all that surprising.
Like so many artists she says she doesn't like talking about her art and isn't that good at it. I can attest that the second half of that is bullpuckey. She's really articulate, both in writing and in answering questions off the cuff. I can remember oh, almost fifteen years ago when she was an irritant to the Elder Goths on the Board. She's matured a lot.
Lots of People in Black were there, a few of whom I knew. I felt almost like a big city Bohemian. I now have my copy of the book, pre-ordered way back, signed by the artist, plus a small raffle prize.
Have I submitted a problem? Yes, and you know damn well what it is. As I told her, she may have drawn the sigil without my knowledge because a) I keep finding more of them in various corners of the internet, and b) she hasn't published, electronically or otherwise, anywhere near all of the ones she's drawn. There were even some in her slide deck that I'd never seen before.
Queer? Yes. Cute? Shyeah! Available? I don't think so, and that's a damn shame, quite possibly.
Gauger is an illustrator. A few years back, she asked people to submit their problems and she would draw a sigil to fix it. Yes, that's a little bit woo, and the drawings certainly look woo with their rich symbolic vocabulary and mythological allusions; Gauger's love and knowledge of several different mythologies are deep. Gauger says that she herself hasn't been into the woo since her teens and I never was, of course, but something about those drawings makes me keep wanting more. It seems almost like engineered magic, black and white drawings that are always mirrored. She's done hundreds so far, with no end in sight.
My favorites among the sigils are the more recent ones with more details and higher concepts: a cephalopod's tentacles drawing a map of land, or a sewn-together bride of Frankenstein holding giant sewing needles with lighting passing through the eyes.
One thing that's absolutely arresting about the drawings is the problems that got submitted: everything from scholastic angst to surviving rape to mental & terminal illnesses. Gauger, who's no stranger to mental illness or sexual assault herself, says she gets migraines from reading them sometimes, which isn't all that surprising.
Like so many artists she says she doesn't like talking about her art and isn't that good at it. I can attest that the second half of that is bullpuckey. She's really articulate, both in writing and in answering questions off the cuff. I can remember oh, almost fifteen years ago when she was an irritant to the Elder Goths on the Board. She's matured a lot.
Lots of People in Black were there, a few of whom I knew. I felt almost like a big city Bohemian. I now have my copy of the book, pre-ordered way back, signed by the artist, plus a small raffle prize.
Have I submitted a problem? Yes, and you know damn well what it is. As I told her, she may have drawn the sigil without my knowledge because a) I keep finding more of them in various corners of the internet, and b) she hasn't published, electronically or otherwise, anywhere near all of the ones she's drawn. There were even some in her slide deck that I'd never seen before.
Queer? Yes. Cute? Shyeah! Available? I don't think so, and that's a damn shame, quite possibly.