Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Orange Crush

Everyone knows that the single most important invention of the 20th century was the creation of black laundry detergent. Over were the days when black clad individuals had to roam the streets covered in disturbing white smears and splotches, resembling sloppy eaters (of one kind or another.) Now it seems that the “powers that be” became aware of the counter culture contentment and decided to do something about it. The coveted detergent suddenly became wildly overpriced and hidden with other products geared toward degenerates such as rat poison, pickled cauliflower and methamphetamine ingredients (if it was even stocked at all…)

Regardless of what detergent we are forced to use, laundry day is quite a sight to behold around here. Nothing but an overflowing sea of black, punctuated here and there by a daub of charcoal or dismal grey. Now if anyone is interested, Seraph does the washing (in our creepy communal apartment laundry room, complete with circa 1973 linoleum and a thirty year deposit of grim…) and Splendor does the folding. Sorting it all out has become an esoteric science unto itself. One must ascertain whose Carpathian Forest shirt is whose, allot 23 pairs of black socks and determine the ownership issues of about 40 black hoodies, 15 or so being COMPLETELY IDENTICAL to the untrained eye. All we can hope for at the end of the day is that order has been re-established and that the neighbor lady hasn’t started stealing our underpants again (true story…)

Now nothing fades our dark mood quite as quickly as people who DO NOT for whatever reason follow the simple principal of a dark and dreary wardrobe. This time of year seems to bring out the worst of vivid summer dresses, pastel plaid shorts and pink halter tops. The worst offenders seem to be people who play group sports (WHY???), where colors go from cringe inducing to downright migraine causing.

French couturier Michel Klein’s fabulous farmhouse…

There is a Boys & Girls Club here in our neighborhood that seems to always contain A GROUP OF FULL GROWN ADULTS (!?!) playing of all things the evil and morally questionable game of kick ball. Now these freaks dress up in their garish, brightly colored sports costumes, er, uniforms and run around the field like complete idiots. We swear to darkness that the other day one of these weirdoes had a pink plush teddy bear strapped to the side of his head with a fuzzy white sweatband. Our recollection of the rules of kick ball that were beaten into us as children by our sadistic PE teachers are sketchy at best (probably due to the blood loss and head injuries…) but we DO NOT recall a outfield position that requires you lash a stuffed animal to your (obviously empty) cranium… Sometimes we scream “get the %&$# off of the playfield dumbasses, you are frightening the children, assorted small animals and THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE ITSELF” , other times we just evoke the name of the Dark Lord himself and hope matters take care of themselves…

Now all kidding aside (hmmm…kidding were we?) there is a time and a place for colors other than black. Here is a selection of burnt oranges, dingy gingers and murky melons that we find quite appealing. By the way, the lead picture in this post is Seraph + Splendor's "Harem Corner" in the master bedroom here at Chintz of Darkness...


I know the way you feel I know it ain't too good
I know it feels like there's detergent in your blood

(“I’m the Doctor” by Motorhead)

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Street of Crocodiles

Now here at Chintz of Darkness we have been demented (and fermented as well at times…) for as long as anyone can remember. We both decided at an early age to follow “the path less taken”. A path overhanging with gossamer cobwebs and shrouds of mystery. A moonlit trail strewn with a mosaic of perils and enchantment that one must carefully navigate. Existing at the fringes of society as we have, one learns to be surefooted and subversive, nimbly avoiding the pitfalls that would change the essence of ourselves and the work that we create.

( A wicked and sublime inkwell by Tiffany & Company)

(The breathtaking furniture designed by Michel Haillard)

Recently we spent our afternoon walk gathering twigs and branches (as well as an exquisite selection of crow feathers) for our new series of sculptures. As we neared our home, arms full of our gnarled harvest, it became necessary to cross the intersection of YUPPIE & SCUM (otherwise known as 15th & Market). As we waited for the traffic light to change we began noticing strange looks from passersby’s. Their expressions seemed to ask “who are these freakish druids and why are they performing a pagan ritual in front of our blessed 7-11?” (The answer to THAT would be, dear friends, trying to rid the world of the Big Bite Hot Dog, Cheesy JalapeƱo Nachos and the National Inquirer all in one swoop of the wand…)

(Alec Cobbe Residence)

(...more of Michel Haillard's work.)

Now if someone were to tell you that later that same afternoon that the same freaks were spotted harvesting lethally sharp (yet lovely) thistles from the middle of a traffic circle with a ceremonial knife and an altar cloth, we certainly do not know what to tell you… the world is full of unexplained strangeness.

Upon returning home after our successful hunting and gathering foray we dutifully added our bounty to our growing collection of objects and ephemera that will be incorporated into our work. There are silver trays filled with antlers and bones upon sinisterly cloaked cabinets. A trio of stag skulls has taken over our parlor table, while a colony of costume jewelry has overrun the sofa. It now seems necessary to maneuver around bags of pheasant wings, nefariously purchased crucifixes and ceramic angels (just you wait, cherub, you won’t be smirking for long) simply to turn on the lights and one must climb through a maze of oversized gilded frames to retrieve a timid teacup… but do not get us wrong, we thoroughly enjoy living amid such an array of oddities and look forward to revealing our new conjuring you, dear readers…

(Frank Flemming's inspiring studio...)

(Seraph + Splendor's own Frog Orchestra...they play every night in the Haunted Dollhouse)

Until then a visual collection of some of our favorite inspirations…of special note is the exquisitely phenomenal furniture of Michel Haillard. (This is how we furnish our dreams…how about you?)

I am a Long Lived Snake, I Pass the Night and Am Reborn Every Day
I am the Snake which is in the Limits of the Earth
I Pass the Night and am Reborn, Renewed and Rejuvenated Every Day
I am a Crocodile immersed in Dread
I am the Crocodile who Takes by Robbery
I am the Great and Mighty Loathsome Reptile
Who is in the Bitter Waters
I am the Lord of those who Bow Down in Sekhem

(“Chapter For Transforming Into A Snake” by Nile)

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