Atelier Hobbit Hall

Here’s a Robot Drawing.
The AI (Invoke-AI) a complex and upto date AI for text to image came up with this drawing to the prompt:

“A middle-aged woman dreams of becoming a unicorn.”

This seems to happen on the interwebs a lot these days, so I wondered how it works. It would appear that the AI decided that one dreams in one’s head, which is true, and a Unicorn is best recognised by its distinctive singular-horn, a uni, after all.

There’s no need to mess her up by growing the uni-horn out of her forehead, the AI placed it at an attractive angle towards her face from the line intersecting the top of her ear and her eyebrow. (If you hold you right hand with your thumb tip touching the top of your ear and you middle-finger touching your eyebrow then from the middle of that line pull your left index finger upwards on your head until just after you feel your skull begin to dome, you’ll be in the place where the horn begins.
The horn is long enough that you could put a few hangers on it to carry some laundry up the stairs. You could also roll over in bed and put your partner’s eye out (Gets a bit Greekly Tragic at this part).

Oh, the woman, is comely, but unique, a bit of a bulbous nose, small eyes, and pale skin. The horn is “distracting” but it does not unbalance her face or charms. The Drawbot Software, did something unexpectedly artistic as well. She is rendered in Red and Blue (.04mm) ink. Her hair and her horn are red, but little blue is to the left of her face, with most of the blue, though still quite subtle, is to the right of her face, a shadow, but in strong light. Her hair is thick and swirls around the base of her horn, so one can’t see how it is attached to her head — she would not want that as a look for sure. She looks quite kind, and welcoming, no shame or bravado, she knows who she is and what she is to become! I love her for it!

And on the 11th day, God invented breakfast and instructed the prophets to scribe, “and it is good, as all things that come from above, forever and all times.” So, I fired up the burnt offering and cooked French Toast with Bananas. Something the French developed in the South Pacific to dump their stale bread on. And the Jury Janno, is still out. But wait! All is neigh lost, for there is coffee, and all shall be made right no matter what becometh.

First you hire an old man to use a knife to cut a square out of a slice of bread. Don’t nail it to the door frame – set it aside. Put the holey la pain in the hottened pan and press forth slices of nana into the void until she screams. Pour reason deter, pour the eggs and milk into the void until nana is covered. Let her harden and flip her oveaure, & push squares of pain in the nana. When it is all as a hardended artery, slap a plate with it and pour-on tree Syrup from Quebec + cinimanon.

Okay then, the jury is back.
The verdict is death to the internet and all the recipes it hath esponded! Janno, has left lots for the guillotine. Dough will roll! I tell you! Vive la france vive la république, death to those who defile the “wasted bread” prendre son petit-déjeuner! “Send it to the nuclear waste-dump” were her actual words! “You want to make breakfast? Make French Toast our give me death! I wouldn’t give this carp to Harry or Andy – well, maybe Andy.”

Here’s Findley sleeping, as she does, in precision form and mostly always touching one or both of us.

From Sierra Leone to Bahia Brazil worlds converge. A Canuck in Aotearoa make an art.

“In the divine plan, God must be a boogie man.” -Joni Mitchell, Mingus (1979). The Helmet masks of S-L, Yoruba worn in rites with the spiritual transformation and currency of the dancers. You can’t see what’s happening, but if you could, just to get your head around this concept in a complex religion, I made this. The lyric went to the AI, this came back. It’s not just a stupid cartoon. It’s too hard to explain.

The image: a drawing in 5 vibrant colours of 0.4mm pen on quality paper, depicts two dancers in a state of spiritual transformation, thus creating the proper place for the rite of passage into womanhood of girls wearing beautiful, complex and meaningful helmet masks.

It is as if, you might look at what is happening as the dance progresses. The dancer is joined (for the lack of a better word) by the spirit and she is transformed by the dance, the energy, the power, the music and song, Here seen, only skulls radiating energy, as she is no longer flesh, her humanity will return, but changed. Complex robes of material that blends and shines denotes the non-material world beyond our reach, and the intimate connectedness of dancers, spirits, and all the arts included carving, dyeing, pattern-making, weaving, songs, prayers, rituals.

Care should be taken to understand that these images are not of the culture(s) that creates the real ones. And, of the “real ones” my experience is very limited to two small locations in the world, and the worlds they speak of are vast and varied.

If they communicate anything at all, it should be that the unknown and the uninitiated can not know anything of such things, only make bad guesses, maybe, on a good day. The skills and craftsmanship of the real works are of the highest order of human artistic generation and purpose. There is little, in the European cannon to match. Though, if I had to speculate, perhaps the Celts at a time – but I’m biased.

Be held.
What is that which is behind this eye making of you? You are beheld. A variety of fine-point and roller ink pens on 320gm dessin paper, in window lighting late in the day.