Semi-precious

I’ve been experiencing some synchronicity in relation to crystals recently, so thought it was about time I wrote some blog posts about them. Crystals are something I’ve always been interested in, and a large solid sphere of rose quartz that I received for my 21st birthday is among my most treasured possessions; but there’s always been something holding me back from diving head-on into an enthusiasm for these mineral friends. The thing I am referring to will be familiar to anyone who has ever entered a new-age or Theosophical Society bookstore, and was once succinctly described by my friend Jerome as The Purple Horror. As you might expect, one of the best books available on crystals features a cover that suffers terribly from a case of the purple horror - so much so that a friend of mine went to the effort of covering hers with black contact so she didn’t have to look at it ever again. I’m considering doing the same to mine…but in the meantime, I’ve been really enjoying this beautiful King Penguin book from 1952 which features one of the coolest  book covers I’ve ever seen, inspired by the beautiful mineral Malachite.

 

The very same day that I’d been discussing my love of crystal illustrations with my friend Jeanne, who recently included some in a painting she did, a customer of mine brought this book in as reference for a tattoo of jewel that she’s getting. I immediately jotted down the name and found myself a copy on Bookfinder (best website ever), because I really love these scientific illustrations and don’t come across them very often.  My scanner’s not the best so I photographed the most interesting illustrations, all by an artist named Arthur Smith, for you to enjoy.

This first illustration is definitely my favourite.  Something about the combination of the triangular facets of the quartz and the more organic composition of the minerals growing on it just seems magical to me. I have a bit of a thing for this trinity of colours too, pink yellow and blue being visually harmonious variants of the classic primary colours. Also, as Shaun pointed out, with its overlapping triangles it rather resembles a Valknut.

 

Since discovering this book I’ve also been led to a whole host of other crystal art which I intend to share when I have a spare minute. I’ve also been inspired to use the skills I’m learning in my botanical illustration class to do some paintings of minerals that interest me in the same sort of style. First on my list is my current favourite stone, Moss Agate, which is reputed to encourage a stronger relationship with plants among other useful qualities.

Victoria Amazonica

I stumbled on these incredible botanical illustrations of Amazon Lilies recently and can’t stop looking at them. It’s difficult to tell from the pictures, but the pads of these lilies are enormous and covered in extremely sharp spines – nothing like the quaint lily pads you see floating on ponds in most gardens. I have witnessed these amazing things first-hand at the Adelaide Botanic Gardens, where they have their own enclosed pond that I recommend you visit if you get the chance.

The first image is a beautiful example of my favourite type of botanical drawing, with the cross sections and individual parts shown in separate diagrams – they’re so much more appealing to me than a simple image of the specimen as a whole. I think maybe I respond to them so much because they occupy a particular space in the scientific world that photography never can, and because they reflect mankind’s profound desire to not only appreciate these beautiful things, but to explore and understand them. I can’t wait to do a more thorough rendition of an Amanita muscaria mushroom in this style, which hopefully might happen next mushroom season.

The first four of these images came from the NYPL Digital Library, and I found the last two in the exhaustive collection of images from Curtis’s Botanical Magazine on Wikimedia Commons. Enjoy.

  

Botanical Illustration

I took my first ever class in botanical illustration today, at Melbourne's beautiful botanical gardens. I've been somewhat preoccupied with both natural history art and with plants for a while now, and this seems like the logical way to explore these interests. So far we've only done some sketches of gum nuts, but already I get the impression this is going to be a life-time passion, and something that feels natural and intuitive for me as an artist. There's something about the meditative process of observing nature so closely, and the discipline of replicating it as faithfully as possible, that I find really appealing - perhaps because the focus is on the inherent beauty and perfection of the subject, rather than on the artist.

For me, obsessing over how impossibly beautiful something is, whether it's a flower, a melody, a sentiment or another human being, is precisely what inspires me to make art in the first place. The art may not always resemble what I'm obsessing over, but profoundly emotive responses to things are always what inform my visions and stimulate my desire to put them on paper. It's only when my whole being is consumed with that kind of euphoria that I can make art that really feels alive and meaningful. I think this is why music provides me with the most inspiration of all - because as a visual artist it communicates to me in a way that feels entirely mystical and beyond my comprehension.

  

There's nothing nicer than recognising in another person the same creative impulses that I feel, but expressed in a completely different way, and I think that's why I have a tendency to become enamoured with artists who work in formats other than my own. People I find hugely inspiring like David Lynch, Werner Herzog, Justin Broadrick and Emil Amos are all operating from a sincere and deeply felt desire to express themselves, and they do so tirelessly and without compromise. Often it's their approach and dedication to their art that touches me more than the art itself, but the one commonality between them all is their ability to make me feel as though the world is essentially a beautiful place. Looking at some of the botanical art pictured, it's an easy thing to believe.

I scanned these images from a Taschen book called Garden Of Eden which was my birthday present from Shaun this year. Thanks babe.

John James Audubon

John James Audubon was America's most prominent and celebrated ornithilogist, so much so that this portrait of him now hangs in the White House. His dedication to the thorough and accurate documentation of America's birds was (and still is) unsurpassed, and resulted in some truly beautiful images. Audubon was a talented painter and possessed a strong sense of aesthetics and composition, setting his images apart from previous works of a similar kind. He was also a hunter and taxidermist, skills which he used to create life-like images of the birds he painted, always incorporating elements of their habitat and lifestyle such as tree branches, nests, eggs, flowers and associated wildlife. For a lengthy and fascinating history of the man I recommend visiting his Wikipedia page, or one of the many websites dedictaed to his work. Otherwise, just enjoy these examples of his stunning bird paintings, the complete collection of which can be purchased in The Audubon Society baby elephant folio edition of his magnum opus, Audubon's Bird's of America.

A meditation on shells.

"Formed of the fires of creation from the materials of the earth, immersed in ocean waters, filled with air, and possessed of a shape conducive to manifest sound through the ethers, the Universal Mother's perfect design epitomises elemental essence. The hands which grasp it, the eyes which admire its shape and surface, the nose and mouth which draw and expel breath through it, and the ears which thrill to its elevation sound, are all testaments to the existence of the senses and their integral part in the experience of life." -Babaji Bob Kindler, The Ten Divine Articles of Sri Durga.

Ernst Haeckel

I recently bought a wonderful book of scientific illustrations by 19th century biologist Ernst Haeckel. His richly coloured and immensely detailed renderings of everything from jellyfish to microbes are some of the most awe-inspiring images I have ever seen. Even though they are, strictly speaking, scientific depictions of lifeforms which most of us are privileged enough to have seen either in real life or in photographs, Haeckel seems to have imbued them with an other-worldly ambience that somehow enhances their inherent beauty and makes them far more appealing to the eye.

I'm quite fascinated by this ability some artists have to extract beauty from their subjects that not everyone can see; it definitely supports the idea that an artist's skill is mostly in their ability to observe the world around them, with the physical creation of the end result being secondary. Here are some of Haeckel's super-natural illustrations for you to enjoy.