Showing posts with label Horror. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Horror. Show all posts

Saturday, March 26, 2016

A long term relationship with death. Una larga relación con la muerte


Closeness to death is a sad experience, at least in most cultures. But being a whole life dealing with death must be terrible. Accidents, major surgeries, lots of bad diagnosis, miscarriages.... in one single life. Like Frida Kahlo's, who knew how to make fun of her friend Death, having it converted into shocking art, until they finally embraced. I made this composition with a beautiful portrait and a Day of the Dead maraca I have at home, there's light in between to make it ethereal, somehow.

La cercanía a la muerte es una triste experiencia, al menos en la mayor parte de las culturas. Pero tener una vida entera lidiando con la muerte, debe ser terrible. Accidentes, cirugías mayores, cantidad de diagnósticos malos, abortos... en una sola vida. Como la de Frida Kahlo, quien supo burlar a su amiga ¨Muerte,¨ convirtiéndola en arte shockeante, hasta que finalmente se abrazaron. 
Hice esta composición con un bonito retrato de Frida y una maraca del Día de los Muertos que tengo en casa, hay luz de lámpara entre ambos, para hacerlo de alguna forma etéreo.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Día de los Muertos, 2015. Day of the Dead


La Noche de los Altares. En el contexto del Día de los Muertos, 2015, en Santa Ana. Hermosa celebración en Orange County, con más esfuerzo que en Olvera St en Los Angeles.
The Night of the Altars. In the context of the Day of the Dead, 2015, in Santa Ana. Wonderful celebration in Orange County, with much effort than Olvera St in Los Angeles. 
My shots last Saturday, November 7th.




Sunday, December 30, 2012

Flesh and blood. Carne y sangre



 This is a tri tip, in my country we call it ¨colita de cuadril.¨ I was removing the fat from it and found these horrible blood clots, there were too much of them. I decided to take a couple of pictures, though I hadn´t good light, to use the filters and analyze the structure of fat and clots.
 I´ve got an abstract with nice colors and the texture of fat is emphasize by sharpening the edges. The last one reminds me somehow of one of the monsters in ¨Hellraiser,¨  the fat one with the round dark glasses.


I refer to the one on the right side, ¨Butterball¨
Picture from slashingthrough.com

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Thursday, November 15, 2012

From " The strange art of death"



I've always felt this fascination with the art of death, I enjoy watching the death costumes, people dancing for their dead, eating Mexican sugar skulls, burritos and tacos on the ¨Día de los muertos¨. I have my own -humble- collection of skeletons stamps and folk art that I buy at Olvera St in Downtown Los Angeles in the November events.
Today I´m sharing the article ¨The strange art of death¨ published at BBC News Magazine, and leave the link to watch the video of the exhibition in London. The illustrations are my screen shots from the video.







¨Dying is a fact of life. The very last fact, in fact. But the way in which people have prepared for death, and a possible afterlife, has been complex and contradictory through the centuries.
Hundreds of works from a unique personal collection devoted to the iconography of death are now on show at the Wellcome Collection in London. Take a look at some of the artefacts and artwork amassed by American Richard Harris - with Wellcome Collection curator Kate Forde.¨


Saturday, May 26, 2012

Demon in its cavern. Demonio en su caverna


The cavern in the background has arches that also form the demon´s horns, but it also has pointed ears and-or lower horns above the eyes that look at the condemned burning below. I painted a beard as an old man´s in a pensive attitude.
I like the idea of the multiple faces of this evil.
The fire is all around the cavern and the green shows the remains of human bodies.

Creative Commons License
Demon in its cavern. Demonio en su caverna by Myriam B. Mahiques is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Playing with a monster's head. Jugando con una cabeza de monstruo



The first one is a monster's head, complete. Second one, I have been playing with colors and relocated the head in the digital painting, no need to see both ears. Next one, the monster is transformed in a human being.


Maybe the worst monster is a human being...

Creative Commons License
Playing with a monster´s head by Myriam B. Mahiques is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Assassination through the mirror. Asesinato a través del espejo


This digital painting is related to a previous one, Grinning Mask in the Mirror. Finally, the man who was wearing the mask was an assassin and his victim´s blood was spread on the mirror. Or reflected on it. The image of the man with the mask is slowly disappearing from the scene.

Creative Commons License
Assassination through the mirror. Asesinato a través del espejo by Myriam B. Mahiques is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Garra. Paw




"To look at," said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, "it's just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy."
He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.
"And what is there special about it?" inquired Mr. White as he took it from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table.
"It had a spell put on it by an old fakir," said the sergeant-major, "a very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people's lives, and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it."

From The Monkey´s Paw. By W. W. Jacobs

Monday, October 31, 2011

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Two versions of my Jack O´lantern. Dos versiones de mis calabazas de Halloween


The first time I carved a squash for Halloween, I didn´t have any special tools. Worst of all, my youngest daughter asked me to help her with it, but many days before it was required to bring to school. So, I didn´t count on the main problem: it would rotten soon. There was an exhibition and ours was not the only one that showed the consequences of time, not like this painting, but it was a little ruined on top. The next one is a softer version:


This particular Halloween, a friend of mine gave me her remaining squash, not a Jack O´lantern, it was full, but it was a huge one. She said she lived alone and didn´t know what to do with it, after all it is food, isn´t it?
So, I cooked pumpkin soup, pumpkin pie, pumpkin salad, pumpkin this and that..... :)

Monday, October 17, 2011

Villa Diodati


My version of Villa Diodati environment, in the night when Lord Byron, Mary Shelley and other writers were gathered listening to a German horror story read by Lord Byron.
¨The Villa Diodati is a manor in Cologny close to Lake Geneva. It is most famous for having been the summer residence of Lord Byron, Mary Shelley, Percy Shelley, John Polidori and others in 1816, where the basis for the classical horror stories Frankenstein and The Vampyre was laid.
Originally called the Villa Belle Rive, Byron named it the Villa Diodati after the family that owned it. The family was distantly related to Italian translator Giovanni Diodati, uncle of Charles Diodati, the close friend of poet John Milton. Despite the presence of a plaque at the Villa heralding a supposed visit of Milton in 1638, in fact the villa was not built until 1710, long after Milton's death.¨ 

Friday, October 14, 2011

Rat´s head. Cabeza de rata


Inspired by Bram Stoker´s story The Judge´s House (In the book Dracula´s Guest). The rat seems almost human, but it was devil.

¨There on the great high-backed carved oak chair by the right side of the fireplace sat an enormous rat, steadily glaring at him with baleful eyes. He made a motion to it as though to hunt it away, but it did not stir. Then he made the motion of throwing something. Still it did not stir, but showed its great white teeth angrily, and its cruel eyes shone in the lamplight with an added vindictiveness.
Malcolmson felt amazed, and seizing the poker from the hearth ran at it to kill it. Before, however, he could strike it, the rat, with a squeak that sounded like the concentration of hate, jumped upon the floor, and, running up the rope of the alarm bell, disappeared in the darkness beyond the range of the green-shaded lamp. Instantly, strange to say, the noisy scampering of the rats in the wainscot began again.¨
Bram Stoker. Dracula´s Guest. 1914
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