I first became aware of Sara Deck’s artwork via her arresting and unsettling cover art imagery for Rue Morgue magazine’s Shirley Jackson tribute, and since then, I’ll admit, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head (please pardon the pun).
The more I pore through her work, heavily featuring iconic dark genre sirens and scream queens galore, the more I am cursing my lack of wall space and frantically scrabbling through my grimoires in an attempt to conjure forth extra rooms through the use of black arts. Are her depictions of your favorite spooky ladies worth selling your soul for, in order to have their haunting visages hanging in that shadowed parlour corner that appeared in a mysterious puff of smoke two minutes ago? I’d wager for fans of powerfully female-centric horror-related art, the answer is an unequivocal “OMG WHAT YES”.
Sara Deck is a visual artist residing in Ontario, Canada and who describes herself as a “Landscape aficionado, portraitist, Illustrator, dollmaker and painter of meats*” She also sculpts the most peculiar little dolls, which she notes in her bio on her site, “may or may not come to life at night while you are asleep.”
Delving into the arts was natural for Deck, as her father was a painter, and often would bring her along when he would do watercolor studies for later paintings. As a teen, she began working in acrylic and painting everything that she could get her hands on; when she ran out of canvas, she notes, her backpack, jean jacket and bicycle did not escape her brush! She also shares that she was very solitary and “into finding secluded places to read, sketch and paint,” and that it was around this time that her artistic passions became firmly rooted into her personality. Her art education continued at Sheridan College, where she majored in Editorial Illustration.
Sara Deck has always found dark imagery, literature and films extremely inspiring, and has a huge collection of horror films ranging from some the first ever made to many current creepy movies and television shows. “I think that the horror genre offers so much room for creativity,” Deck suggests, “I mean it’s not just ghosts and slasher films. Pretty much anything goes, from evil fairies to the cold stark abyss of space. It’s really a wide open platform of expression with only your imagination as its limit.”
It is within this expansive, imaginative genre where powerful female characters truly resonated with her. A huge fan of all of the ladies featured in classic horror films, Deck shares that she loves the glamour of the time mixed with the heart wrenching horror of their stories. A few of her all-time favorites? “…Val Lewton’s pictures,” Deck enthuses. “If you have not seen his work, and are interested in checking out some stellar leading ladies, I would highly recommend Cat People with Simone Simon and I Walked With a Zombie, featuring Francis Dee. I loved Candace Hilligoss in Carnival of Souls–her character’s vacant, numb demeanor while trying to re-assimilate into society after having survived a horrifying car crash that killed all of her friends–I won’t spoil the ending on that one! Also, The Legend of Hell House, with Pamela Franklin staring as the physical medium battling the dominant evil spirit of the Belasco House. This film has a scene where during a seance she manifests ectoplasm out of her fingers, much like you would see in a vintage Victorian spiritualist photo. There is also a particularly hilarious scene with a possessed cat (badly stuffed I’m afraid) that will make you laugh.”
Deck adds, as an afterthought, “I am also a big nerd for some of the more modern ladies in the genre. In the last few years I’ve been in love with Penny Dreadful‘s Vanessa Ives. I have forced so many friends to watch that show with me!”
Also a sculptor who draws sinister inspiration from the likes of Edgar Allan Poe to Spike and Drusilla from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Deck notes that she loves making dolls and coming up with new characters to create. Though, she reflects, “I think I am more of a painter at heart. I’m always doing sketches and filling books with ideas for new pieces.”
*With regard to painting, and hearkening back to the bit in her bio where Deck mentions she is a “painter of meats”–if you were curious about that, and whether that is “meat” in the sense of humans, in their fleshly meat-suits? Or maybe still lifes with t-bones and lamb chops and fat-marbled filets? According to Deck, the answer “Both actually! I once did a whole series of still life paintings featuring raw bloody meat. I have since focused on painting people, which is another form of painting meat – so, it’s a bit of a cheeky bio description!”
And, OK, let’s say that your mystical wall-space petition to the dark ones didn’t quite pan out, but you are still longing for a piece of Sara Deck’s fantastical, haunting art. What to do? She must be part witch or part seer herself, and foresaw this dilemma, for she has created tiny, wearable pieces in the form of beautifully macabre lapel pins for which to adorn yourself! Surely you can make space for a Nevermore or Mystifying Oracle pin on your jacket? Miniature art magics! Problem solved.
“Rotten”. That pretty much sums up the past month and a half. Too little time for all that I need to do and too much stress about all of those things have left me ragged at the edges, and edgy to the extreme. (“rotten” graphic above courtesy a Stay Home Club tee shirt which I am appropriately wearing today.)
My body does weird things when I am freaked out, and these anxieties over the years have found new and exciting ways to manifest physically in my poor bod. What I’m pretty sure have been mild cases of acid reflux and rosacea that developed in my late 30s but which I have always been able to pooh-pooh because they’re not that bad…well, all of a sudden they are that bad. Massive flare ups. I’ve been walking around for the majority of November and December feeling like I’m going to barf and like my barf is burning a hole in my throat, on top of which my face is red and stingy-rashy with itchy bumps constantly appearing and disappearing in the same day.
The acid reflux, well, I can get over that, but roseacea? ON MY FACE? Ugh, no. Last straw.
I am, however, happy to report that after polling some friends on facebook I found some tips and various things to try that actually seem to be working. For those who are curious…
I cut out coffee (I didn’t drink that much anyway. Only a mug a day, which I drinkuntil it gets cold, and then I dump it out.) I replaced the coffee with a hot turmeric-ginger chai from Rishi.
I changed up my morning and evening face cleansing routine and am now using the anti-redness rosacea products from ZENMED. I am not exaggerating in the least when I tell you that I noticed an overnight difference after first trying them. On one hand that’s amazing, because my itchy lobster face was pretty awful. What stinks, though, is that now I basically have a cabinet full of expensive beauty products that are totally useless because I can’t use right now.
On to more glamorous things! I received my beautiful Pilgrims from Fluevog and they fit gorgeously. These are truly the One Pair of Shoes to Rule Them All.
They are pictured here with a dress from Noctex, which you can’t really see, and I can’t link properly link to because it is no longer sold, and Avignon from Comme des Garçons, which of course you cannot smell, but I will share with you that it smells like very fancy pencil shavings. The tote is from Haute Macabre, but no longer available.
Also good for alleviating stresses: making your own monsters! A fashionable, fantastical harpy-footed, squid-armed cyclops! A jaunty minotaur with mummy legs and bat wings! A dragon with torn dungarees! Ridiculous! I picked up up this magnet set in Austin, but you can easily find them on amazon. Also, if you have a weird friend for whom you need a last-minute Hexmas gift (or maybe one of those white-elephant/dirty santa exchanges?) I can personally attest that this is the most perfect thing ever and there will be much deranged cackling.
I am too brain dead to think of much to say about any of these books, but if you like the idea of vengeful Victorian lesbian insect women, then give InSeXts a try, and if Charlies Angels as managed by the Phantom of the Opera sounds campy and delightful to you, then I think you’ll like Angels of Music. I haven’t delved into the Valancourt anthology yet, but come on–just look at that cover! It’s got to be good.
Currently watching: a lot of Gravity Falls. My beau has been trying to get me to watch this with him forever, and I finally gave in. It’s a Disney show, (I think?) and has described as Twin Peaks meets Eerie, Indiana. Except without all the murder. Anyway, I won’t go into what it’s all about because if you already know then I’ll feel dumb for having done that. I will say that it’s a lot of fun and it’s good when you want to watch something silly but not exactly mindless, but…I don’t know. I find some bits of it a little problematic.
And finally, some one-word movie reviews!
Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them-sure! (saw this in theatre) The Lobster– hrrrm Sacrifice– UGH Demon-YESSSSS Restoration-nope Kristy-yes (surprisingly) Green Room-maybe
The Last Witch Hunter-skip (got this from the library)
“The Creeping Museum presents “Eviscerate the Patriarchy,” a one-of-a-kind package of original props from the set of Penny Dreadful, original art used for Vanessa’s spell book and The Devil tarot card, and art inspired by the show. All props were obtained from the Penny Dreadful prop auction held by Ashgrove Auction Rooms in Kildare, Ireland on September 13-15, 2016, and all art was donated by the contributing artists. Proceeds of this auction will be split between the Joyful Heart Foundation (in support of their vision of a world free of sexual assault, domestic violence and child abuse), and The Creeping Museum (to help fund our next nonprofit release).”
[Apologies for the wonky imagery. My very old laptop crapped out, and with it, my very old, not-very-legally-acquired copy of Photoshop disappeared forever. Now I am legit paying for it! But I’m still getting used to a new version.]
Greetings! Here are some frips I’ve been obsessing over this week. And let’s pretend I’ve been posting Friday Fripperies on a weekly basis instead of twice yearly, shall we?
There is a surreal stretch at the end of an evening of good times that have carried on perhaps an album’s length or a bottle too long. A half-lit, fuzzy spell between two and three in the morning where you’ve had far too much too drink with friends and the euphoric effects of the alcohol are wearing off: you’re left with a sleepy nostalgia for the good times you were having mere hours before and tomorrow’s hangover is a distressing memory that hasn’t happened yet.
You’re in the cramped backseat of a car, cocktail-fevered forehead resting against the cool glass of the passenger side window, your reflection too dark to see. The palm trees are towering overhead–mesmerizing, celestial giants as far away as the distant planets–and the glimmering streetlights are stars that stretch and fade to the edges of your vision like you’re jumping into hyperspace. You want to laugh at the absurdity of the imagery but all of a sudden, and from out of nowhere, this late night is on the other side of too late. This beautiful, astronomical onslaught is too much; it’s triggering memories more terrestrial and summoning that nostalgic, aching void that’s perpetually lurking at the edges of your experience.
I overheard a conversation recently in which it was mentioned that oftentimes one forgets that words ending in “-algia” indicate some sort of pain. So while we frequently refer to nostalgia in a terms of sentimental longing or wistful affection, we cannot deny the twist of the heart that accompanies it, the grief and distress that tinges it. The pain that gives definition to these wispy, amorphous moments, this euphoria we summon and cling to for far too long on evenings like this.
I’m reflecting on these things during my initial listen to British trio HÆLOS’ debut album, Full Circle, which has been described by some as “darkly euphoric dance music”– but I don’t immediately feel like dancing when I hear it. I’m instead reminded of the hair standing stiffly at the back of my neck and my worldview shifting slightly but irreversibly after having heard the tinny, ominous strains of Phil Collins’ “In The Air Tonight” on the radio while my mother sunbathed on a sunny afternoon in southwestern Ohio. In my brightly colored J.C. Penney’s sundress I sat still in the flower bed and listened intently, internalizing a despair I couldn’t possibly understand at the age of six, and yet somehow recognizing that one day I would know it all too well. I didn’t feel like dancing then, either.
It was this same visceral reaction that HÆLOS’ nocturnal, throbbing first single, “Dust,” conjured in me when I initially heard it in late fall of 2014, released quietly on Soundcloud. This song, with its otherworldly, multi-layered, airy vocal tracks, reverberating melodies, and the repeated lyrics, “what happened to us?” almost begs the question: You and Me, us? Or the bigger picture Us, all of Us, humanity as a whole? It evoked the compulsion to desperately dial a loved one at the darkest hour of night, just to hear their voice, and have them assure you that they are okay. Or… to assure yourself that you are okay.
There is faint light dawning on the horizon which soon becomes a blinding corona in the morning sky, faithfully moving throughout our day, infinitely shining above. The darkness of the night, the void, and the loneliness abate in the face of this splendid constancy. And too, with a closer listen to the shadowy trip-hop, shimmering electronica, and hushed, intimate lyrics that comprise the entirety of Full Circle, you will hear this gentle movement, this infinite tenderness. It reveals something deeply human, achingly authentic and at its heart, a far cry from the bitter angst of that iconic hit from 1981 that unnerved me so at such a young age: breathtakingly explosive hope.
Hope and human connection are pervasive themes throughout the album. Uneasy reflection on the pain of emotional distance, and “the moment when you are choosing between staying or leaving and the underlying love that keeps you there”– as explained in a statement from the band–is explored in “Separate Lives,” the album’s eighth track and most recent video release.
The band has noted a love of the atmospheric trip-hop and turntablism of the ’90s–Portishead, Massive Attack, and the like–and there is much of that smoky, late night ritual and narcotic, reverberating poignancy to be heard weaving in and out and linking the songs on Full Circle. In particular, “Earth Not Above,” the album’s fifth track, is brimming with this down-tempo, melancholic dissonance, but along with lustrous synth, and cinematic, kaleidoscopic strings, HÆLOS’ sound is wholly their own.
These are songs of grief, and of vulnerability, but ultimately of release: “Some of us need kindness… some people need love” they sing. And in these lush, hauntingly beautiful harmonies on this sweeping, meditative album, it becomes clear that this is the sound of one no longer being alone in the dark; it’s the steady, gorgeous thrum and throbbing heartbeat of a hand in your own.
I had insisted that HÆLOS’ Full Circle doesn’t move me to dance, but perhaps this quiet realization is a still, joyous, hopeful dance of its own.
This article originally appeared in Haute Macabre on December 6, 2016.
To trace with the eye the sumptuous swells and ornate, swirling shadows of Jas Helena’s art is to be drawn into an evocative world of potent feminine mysticism. Appearing both demonic and divine (or, perhaps neither) against inky Byzantine backdrops, these saints and sirens, shamans and sorceresses beckon and beguile from the canvas; a tilt of an eyebrow or lift of a lip hinting at knowledge and portents beyond your mortal understanding…or maybe just admonishing one, with an intense and commanding glare, to STFU with their mansplaining nonsense. You don’t know what these women are thinking, and perhaps that is precisely the point.
“I love the concept of a strong, powerful, mysterious woman as a constant focal point in my work,” the artist shares, while also noting visually over-the-top baroque art and dark Goya-esque works as inspirations: “..finding a happy medium…that can both be feminine and soft, yet have a subtle, darker aesthetic is pretty much what I seek to do, and without a doubt Goya and artist of the Baroque-era figured out how to do that so flawlessly.”
Fascinated by the arts at a young age, Jas Helena obsessed over drawings and illustrations by the Old Masters without fully understanding what drew her to them, but, inspired by the excitement that these classic works sparked in her, she instinctively attempted to recreate what it was that so captured her fancy. Encouraged by positive feedback from friends and teachers, she practiced her art and nurtured her abilities through school and community college. In continually learning and honing her craft, it eventually coalesced into the haunting, highly ornamental style for which she is recognized today-a style that she feels finally reflects who she is and what she wants to put out into the world.
With a portfolio that also boasts work created for such occult rock and doom-laden metal acts as Funerary, Deaf Heaven, and Ides of Gemini, one gets the sense that Jas Helena has evolved into an artist who has glimpsed beyond the veil and become a conduit for the arcane visions and revelatory dreams she has witnessed. Her penchant for the dark and obscure and all its symbolism, she asserts, makes her art and this unearthly music a perfect match.
Regarding both the powerful priestesses she painstakingly composes on the page, as well as those who may be inspired as her work: in Sabat Magazine’s Spring/Summer 2016 Maiden issue, Jas Helena observes an increased interest in occult aesthetics in young women today, and that through Instagram and other social media, the aesthetic becomes more accessible. “I see a community of bold women growing from it,” she concludes, mentioning artists Annie Stegg and Nona Limmen in this spirit, “that becomes even more important in the art world where this dark aesthetic is still an uneven playing field, dominated by men.”
I have previously written on the importance of holiday shopping for one’s self. No one is going to get you what you really want, so save yourself the trouble of those painful, plastic grimaces you must flash when acknowledging a gift that missed the mark–if you already have a treat or two at home waiting for you, you can give a genuine smile when you thank so-and-so for that fruity nightmare Bath and Body works candle or that weird tea sampler that is mostly comprised of herbal tisanes but still has the gall to call itself “tea”. (Ugh! Major pet peeve.)
I joke. Somewhat. I’m always grateful when someone has thought enough of me to buy me a gift, but let’s be real. No one knows me and what I want better than I do. Here’s a few things on my hexmas list this year. They may already be on their way to me now! What are you going to surprise yourself with in 2016? Tempt me in the comments!
The Creeping Museum is the nonprofit creative vision and labor of love conceived between two friends and a grilled cheese sandwich in a North Portland laundromat in the spring of 2016. Their remarkable mission? To help artists and independent creators give back to their communities by turning their strange and unusual work into tiny pieces of affordable art in the form of collectible enamel pins– for which to support wonderfully worthy causes.
The Creeping Museum continues their mission of making the world a better place through kind hearts and spooky arts with the release of their most ambitious and highly anticipated collection to date: Beautiful Monsters. Inspired by the night creatures of Penny Dreadful, in support of the marginalized and forgotten, Beautiful Monsters is now available. Read more at Haute Macabre today.
Bonus! I was honored to have made a small contribution to The Creeping Museum’s Eviscerate The Patriarchy auction (proceeds to benefit the Joyful Heart Foundation); believe it or not, I actually knit these mitts up in about 6-7 hours!
Photo credit: B. Brandt / Styling: Maika Keuben
Bonus! Should you like to wish to swan about in a spookily elegant ensemble inspired by The Creeping Museum, Beautiful Monsters, and Penny Dreadful, see below. As always, click on the image to see a listing of items used.
Bonus: How to wear your own Death Cafe (or, as I like to think of it “How To Wear An Article About Holding Your Own Death Cafe”). As always, click on the image to be linked to the item details.
Currently reading:
Currently watching: a lot of 
The Creeping Museum continues their mission of making the world a better place through kind hearts and spooky arts with the release of their most ambitious and highly anticipated collection to date: Beautiful Monsters. Inspired by the night creatures of Penny Dreadful, in support of the marginalized and forgotten, Beautiful Monsters is now available.
