Arthaus: The Devil

 Arthaus: Day Sixteen



I would like to tell you a fairy tale. This fairy tale, like most fairy tales, starts with a family - a father, a mother and a daughter. And another man. In some cultures we call him… the Devil. Each of these characters cannot realize their potential, because of one reason or another, and I would like you to think and identify with each of them. Now the man is a miller, he is of poor means. And recently he fell upon extremely hard times. So hard, he had to go into the forest, chop up some timber, and head into town and sell them for pennies so that he may bring bread back to his family. One day, in the forest, he chanced upon the other man. The other man lamented his situation: 'Brother why do you do this do yourself? Why try so hard? Why kill yourself over a pittance? I can take it all away, make it better. I can give you riches, with a snap of my finger, you'll find that your house is filled with roast meat, cheese, grapes, all sorts of good food. The mill can be fixed, I'll fix it too. The man thought for a while, 'And in return?' 'And in return all I want is what stands behind the mill.' For a second he pondered, 'Behind the mill? Why isn't that the apple tree? That's fine, it's a good deal!' 'I'll take the deal.' With a hand shake and a puff of smoke, or a billowing of the cloak, or a gust of wind, whatever's fashionable these days in the underworld, the other man was gone. The man went home, opened his door and was greeted by his wife 'You wouldn't believe what just happened! You were gone, and suddenly everything in the house changed! The sink became golden, the larder became stocked, our water container turned into wine, why, we even have chandeliers!' 'Yes, I made the best deal today. All that, and just for what's behind the mill!' The mother turned white. 'But, but, don't you know? Our daughter is gardening behind the mill!' The man hurried to the window and looked, and sure enough, their daughter was tending to the garden behind the mill. He was shaken to his core.

A year passed… And another. And yet another came and went.

The fourth year arrived with a knock on the door. The man answered it. There he was, in his satanic glory, 'I've come to collect.' The father could barely get his words out, 'You can't do it! I didn't know! How was I to know that my dear dear daughter was standing behind the mill at that moment? Please don't take her!' 'B-but, a deal's a deal! Your daughter was promised, and riches were promised; you got your riches, and now I shall have my daughter.' And off they went to the garden, and as the daughter was still tending the garden, the Devil found himself unable to cross the threshold. 'Bring your daughter to me.' 'She's working the garden, there's still plenty to be done.' It was the Devil's turn to be mortified. 'I will come back tomorrow. Bring your daughter to me or you will have to chop off her arms.' The next day, the Devil returned, and the door was answered this time by the mother. 'Oh I did not know of this deal. Surely we can offer something else!' 'A deal's a deal's a deal. I will come back tomorrow, and I will take either the daughter's arms or the father's arms. I will not be denied.' And on the third day, he returned. Throwing up his hands, the father realized he was left with little choice, and went to his dear daughter still tending the garden. 'Sweetheart, I am so sorry but I have accidentally promised you to the Devil. Not only that, he will have your arms.' Daughter, as dear a girl as she was, looked up from her flowers at her Papa and said: 'What's done is done I suppose, and if you say it's the only way, it must be the only way.' She held out her arms. And Papa chopped them off. The Devil made off with the daughter.

And this is the beginning of our fairy tale.


The Devil: Intellectual, corporate, business-like, contractual, short on time, lacking in the emotional arena
The Father: Emotional, anger as weapon, guilt/shame, righteousness, mercantile
The Mother: Helplessness, balancing (btwn father and daughter), pressing down (the daughter?)
The Daughter: Immature, makes the best out of the situation

While drawing, I rediscovered my joy of coloring the negative spaces for words. So much so I made stencils of the word 'boundary'. The exercise was to make layers, and to cross boundaries and see how that made us feel. Well, I enjoyed layering dark colors, but when the light colors came, I could barely see them, and I felt an irrational frustration well up in me. Why was I unhappy?! So I kept at it, until I went into the land of negative spaces. I clearly like forms, and on the flip side of things, creating the negative spaces for the clear potential of form was also extremely satisfying. How do we move the negative space?

A parting gift from Kelley before she leaves for her Elizabethan cruise: Drawing on the right side of the brain by Betty Edwards.

Published on
8/5/19 11:59 PM

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