I just read an essay by the psychoanalyst and writer Adam Phillips where he describes the antagonistic relationship with the inner critic. He writes:
[T]he self-critical part of ourselves, the part that Freud calls the super-ego, has some striking deficiencies: it is remarkably narrow-minded; it has an unusually impoverished vocabulary; and it is, like all propagandists, relentlessly repetitive. It is cruelly intimidating – Lacan writes of ‘the obscene super-ego’ – and it never brings us any news about ourselves. There are only ever two or three things we endlessly accuse ourselves of, and they are all too familiar; a stuck record, as we say, but in both senses – the super-ego is reiterative … It is, in short, unimaginative; both about morality, and about ourselves. Were we to meet this figure socially, this accusatory character, this internal critic, this unrelenting fault-finder, we would think there was something wrong with him.
In this spirit, I’ve decided to present here the drawings I did for Inktober last month. Inktober, for those unaware, is a month of drawing in ink where you respond to daily prompts. I have always railed against participating in such Colour by Numbers ventures, which my inner critic has argued, repetitively, and unimaginatively, are designed by Dumb and Uncreative Babies for other Dumb Uncreative Babies who need prompts to do anything.
And yet, I have been sitting on the couch, scattering crumbs, not doing anything, and perhaps coming to the conclusion that casting these kinds of aspersions is a measure to protect myself from trying anything new, from failure, but also from frivolous enjoyment. And that this kind of frivolous enjoyment may be the essence of life’s joys, or at least the absence of pain and ugly maddening news and dull, ever-repeating dull minutia of daily experience. And that such babyish imaginings of a world or idea beyond our current couch-bound, crumby existence might bring you some joy, or in lieu of such lofty ambitions, maybe just a smile.
I also responded to the prompts from Weird Medieval Guy tober (an Instagram which posts pictures of Weird Medieval Guys from Medieval manuscripts and decided to do the Inktober thing this year) and combined these with the Inktober prompts, hoping to find some Dumb Uncreative Baby joy. And I did! I hope you enjoy a tour through my Big Titty Angelled, bloodied and unsettling mind.
I love Medieval depictions of bats, and other animals with humanoid faces. Have you ever seen a guy this good, with his arms spread out in irrepressible joy, looking every part the much friendlier self-satisfied flasher in a Coles carpark:
*chef’s kiss*. Also look at this one which kind of looks like a flying penis-lion with a giant urethra on the wrong end!
A combination of a medieval fool and spiders… fairly self-explanatory.
A hybrid snail, based on my friend Ruby who has always loved snails (her teenage/young adult blog used to be called Oh Snail)!
This one was inspired by these kind of Medieval depictions of hellmouths (example below), which were (conceptually) literal openings to hell where people would receive judgement in the End of Times. Often these would be depicted in plays as giant, hand-operated models that would have mouths that flapped open and would (pretend to) suck people up (and make audiences scream)— give me this over Netflix any day. I learnt recently that Luna Park’s face in Melbourne is based off a hellmouth! Gives new dimension to the screams hurtling from the Scenic Railway.
I love that on maps from this era there were often sea monsters or other creatures at the edge. So I thought I would some mermaids at the centre. Medieval depictions of mermaids often have extraneous legs and wings and other features, so I thought, why the hell not have little chicken legs halfway down their tails? Maybe they could be like the extra legs on the chair Homer designs in the Simpsons?
Vaguely based on the below image. I loved the way the flesh was sloughing off the dancing skeleton. Not sure what that says about me.
Slay, hunty.
BBTWW: Big Bouncing Titties With Wine.
BBBABS: Big Beautiful Biblically Accurate BigTittied Angel.
LYFDTW:
Let your fingers do the walking.
This:
Also this:
But not this:
The above based on the murderous life of Queen Fredegund, a Frankish queen who had a lifelong rivalry with her successor, Brunhind. Her story is pretty wild (quoted from a website called Rejected Princesses:
Here is the most cartoonishly evil woman I have ever come across: Fredegund. This woman was a 6th-century Merovingian queen consort with a penchant for killing people. Her notable life went roughly as follows:
She works her way into the palace of Chilperic I as a serving woman for the queen, Audovera.
Chilperic I, although married to Audovera, takes Fredegund as a concubine.
Fredegund convinces him to divorce Audovera and send her to a nunnery.
Fredegund then quietly kills Audovera.
Chilperic then marries another woman, Galswintha.
Galswintha turns up strangled in her own bed.
Chilperic marries Fredegund a couple days later, presumably getting the hint.
Fredegund kills Chilperic’s brother Sigebert (the two brothers had been fighting). She also tries to kill Sigebert’s son.
Chilperic turns up mysteriously dead.
Immediately thereafter, Fredegund takes all his money, skips town, and starts living in Notre Dame Cathedral (sanctuary, indeed!) under the protection of Chilperic’s brother, Guntram.
Three years later she tries to assassinate Guntram.
Ten years later, Fredegund dies (how, I do not know).
If Fredegund had a foil, it was Galswintha’s sister (and Sigebert’s widow), Brunhild. For forty years, the two of them fought — resulting in endless warfare and, you can be sure, at least one assassination attempt. In the end, Brunhild outlived Fredegund, but even from beyond the grave, Fredegund had the last word.
Sixteen years after Fredegund’s death, with Brunhild now a sixty-something woman, Fredegund’s son killed her in as brutal a manner as I’ve ever heard. First, torture on the rack. Next, each of her extremities was tied to a different horse, and they were all set to run in different directions, tearing her apart. Lastly, they burnt her body.
But none of these are the craziest thing Fredegund ever did.
“Hey Rigunth, go pick out some jewelry from that treasure chest.”
So what is the craziest thing she ever did? Well, you see, she had a daughter, Rigunth. Rigunth, as princesses do, was looking forward to one day being queen herself. One day, exasperated by her daughter’s “I want to be queen nowww” whining, Fredegund told her to go look inside Chilperic’s treasure chest and pick out some jewelry for herself.
When Rigunth poked her head in the treasure chest, Fredegund slammed it shut on her neck. Had servants not stopped her, she would have killed her own daughter.
Way harsh, Ty.
Blemmaye are my favourite medieval beasts. People with heads on their chests. People think that they might have been a report back from travellers who had seen orangutans. I like to draw them tongue-kissing, as you can see.
I have always loved the Christ-vagina-wound so I wanted to incorporate that.
Pretty self-explanatory. Angel, skeleton. Honk if you’re horny for death.
Vaguely based on the Unicorn tapestries.
The suggestion was wild man, but I much preferred pictures of Medieval wild women, who often inexplicably had their boobs uncovered.
Also pictures of Mary Magdale in a hirsuite hairsuit, which apparently magically appeared when she was lost in the desert and her clothes fell apart. Also with the importantly exposed titties.
I based the above on one of my favourite paintings, The Hunters in the Snow by Pieter Brueghel the Elder (1525-1569), and incorporated the murderous rabbits often seen in medieval illuminations.
See? Exactly the same.
I reckon I should have put Baby Jesus with his muscly Adonis Baby chest in the chain. Also, I think I was on a bit of a tip with the exposed boobs for no reason.
I was going for some The Witch vibes, and also incorporating illuminated manuscript-style letter direction.
WTLTLD? (Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?)
WTLTHCT?
Wouldst thou like to have celestial titties?
Ok, this email is getting awwww-fully long. So I’m going to split it into a second :). See you soon for part deux !
I Wouldst Like Celestial Titties.
Eloise, this made my day! Can't wait for Part II.