Le Morte d’Artiste

The Germans probably have a word for it.
But in English the closest I can get is “the feeling you have when someone speaks your heart far better than you can”. And its sad addition “and the feeling you have when they die”.

Terry Pratchett’s death (or should I say Death?) was long in coming – Alzheimer’s is a cruel and truly terrible thing. Many of you know Sir Pratchett’s writing, and some of you the man himself. And while I could single out Small Gods as my favorite of his works, I was never sorry I read even one book of his.

That I associate him with Stephen Colbert may seem bizarre, but I do. I well remember watching Colbert’s Press Club evisceration of George W. Bush, and that exact moment when he went all in – the look in his eyes that told me he hated the mendacious suckfish of the U.S. media as much as the policies of the killers they were failing to report accurately about. And not only that he got it, and was taking a rare moment to speak truth to power, but that he was simply better at all of it than I was. There are many reasons of course, but I cannot shake the idea that it’s because the real Colbert so adeptly used the character of “Stephen Colbert, right wing press hack” as a mask. The way Pratchett used all the hackneyed tropes of fantasy and fiction to tell true stories about all the things that matter.

I’d heard tell of Discworld for several years, but we’d never really “met” before I read Good Omens, his collaboration with the esteemed Neil Gaiman. But once begun, Pratchett’s oeuvre proved hard to put down, and after a couple decades of reading, I was asked to be the artist guest of honor at The North American Discworld Convention. By then I was ready.

But the sad truth of Pratchett’s Alzheimers diagnosis had just been revealed, and Pratchett stayed home. Rather than have a few drinks with the legions of adoring friends, fans, and families, Pratchett sent a high-tech “hello” from across the briny and the likes of Bernard Pearson to keep things lively. (Trying to match wits with Bernard was a highlight of not just that convention, but the entire year).

Pratchett’s Calendar spread shows the not-quite-penultimate one we call ‘November’ but the denizens of Discworld, in their 13 month cycle, call ‘Ember’.
The 8 day week proved problematic, but the double helix makes so many things possible. Nothing was off limits to Pratchett – everything could be questioned, altered and enjoyed.

Death is everywhere in Pratchett’s books (Gaiman’s too, come to that), but some things transcend it – art and love among them.
He left his all on the page. A reformed Om’s blessings to him for that.

Pratchett never got to see these pieces – all from ‘Good Omens’ (and including my favorite joke in the entire book: “Admittedly he was listening to a ‘Best of Queen‘ tape, but no conclusions should be drawn from this because all tapes left in a car for more than about a fortnight metamorphose into ‘Best of Queen’ albums”). I hope you’ll enjoy them.

Added bonus! The pin-up that goes with the calendar page above.

The Small Gods Project

What curious susurrations, odd overlays, and eddies of thought have led me to undertake this curious project?

1. I grew up believing that work was work and that the more work one did, the better. Anything else was laziness – not to be tolerated or encouraged. That’s probably why many of my best friends are also workmates. My work has too-often been rather less fun than it should have been, but painting is fun, if I let it be. So, what kind of project could I do that would let me exercise my painting muscles, but not be some pile of useless sketches at the end of the days and weeks?

2. Facebook is a menace. Not only does it hide some unknowable 90% of one’s putative “friends”, but it tempts one to read and write while not drawing. Or painting. Or working in any other way. I was just listening to Carl Hiaasen convey my very thoughts on the matter. But since I like Facebook and my remaining friends, how can I make the experience more interesting and less draining?

3. Each day, Rich Potter has been asking his Facebook pals for suggestions as to what famous person he should paint. And I’ve been impressed with both the work he’s doing, and the responses he’s getting. So tempting to just steal his idea…

4. Eddie Izzard talks about “crap gods” in his show Dress to Kill: “And then the Romans came along with their gods that they had borrowed from the Greeks. They invaded Greece, conquered them and stole all their gods… and renamed them with Roman names, ’cause the Roman gods before that were kind of crap, you know – Geoff, the god of biscuits, and Simon, the god of hairdos….”

5. The real ‘Small Gods’ is a book by Sir Terry Pratchett. Pratchett’s Gods are beings who yearn to be believed in, that they might become powerful and influential. Belief is everything to them, and without it, they may stay small forever. Some gods find nice niches and fill the Belief Economy for many years undisturbed. Others want it all. Or rather, like Om, they want it all back. Pratchett also has fun at the expense of Fedecks, the Ephebian god of messengers and other homages obvious and unobvious from Petulia to Ishkibble.

The Obvious Conclusion !?!

My first Small Gods card: Ishka Babel, the Small God of Comic Novelty Songs.

So, the plan is to spend 1 hour (or less) making a new Small God each day.
I’ll be taking ideas from the Comments provided by the lovely people who read this blog, and see me on Facebook and/or Twitter.

What object, area, category, or activity needs a Small God? Which already has one (or more than one)? And don’t expect the Gods to necessarily bear the forms of the humans who might worship them them – after all Sobek and Offler had Crocodile heads!
And some Gods needn’t even be flesh and blood!

I hope to create a curious and entertaining Rogue’s Gallery of Small Gods – all while trying to enjoy the act of painting and experimenting as broadly as I can.
I hope you’ll enjoy the ride!