Sunday, January 25, 2009

Sunday Book Worship SPECIAL EDITION

Book of the Dead
20” x 26”
© Seraph + Splendor 2009

Now perhaps one wonders “how do Seraph + Splendor spend their time when not here entertaining us with their strange observations?” Do they simply play with silk all day long, as has been suggested by some? Or possibly they lounge about while the day’s work simply completes itself, like some wicked version of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. If you know us at all, even by this blog alone, you know that is not the case…

Unfortunately as of late it seems our time has been occupied battling a vile collection of pseudo spiritualist interlopers, assorted ghetto witches and a particularly aggressive plagiarist.

The sorcery we practice is of a different sort than the above mentioned nonsense and snake oil. We perform a more practical magic if you will. Instead of jars of newt’s eyes and frogs tongues we amass orphaned buttons and homeless brooches. In place of empty runes we form true conjuring out of bits of cloth and strands of gold. Bits of ancient trimmings form nest among our shelves, guarding us against the intensions of the impure. For to whom we speak, you have been exposed…



Recently we have put our collection of lost and cast objects off to good use and began a new series of artwork. We have combined our experience with sewing and appliqué with elements of collage, sculpture and alchemy. These decrepit mosaics blend ornate fabrics and found objects with forms and spirits from the forgotten realms. This series is contained within gilded frames and resemble grimoires and books of spells and we are pleased with the opportunity to share it with you

Book of the Dead

An antique frame, crumpling and decrepit, like gilded serpents shedding their layers of gold. An empty portal holding infinite possibilities. The first vision to appear to us was a sinister “Book of the Dead”, part memento mori, and part book of spells. A skull crowned in a halo of flora, a shard of time, a forbidden key. Ancient velvet, red as blood, moldering away to ethereal dust. Dead cloth and strings of sorrow binding the bones of the past.


Atlas of Souls
16” x 24”
© Seraph + Splendor 2009

Altas of Souls

Beneath the perilous clouds rests a star map of old. A sacred sentinel holding riddles never to be lost be time. A keeper of the hidden path. A map of souls rust amid a briar of death…


On with the action now, I'll strip your pride
I'll spread your blood around, I'll see you ride
Your face is scarred with steel, wounds deep and neat
Like a double dozen before you, smell so sweet.


(“Am I Evil?” by Diamond Head)

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Fanning the Flames


Ok, so everyone already knows that Splendor is NOT the poster girl for the feminine graces. In fact, Splendor’s long suffering (HA!) mother is fond of saying that if only she had made her take piano lessons it would have made a proper young lady out of her. As if somehow a bit of classical training would have prevented the “PHASE” that she apparently has been going through for THE LAST SEVERAL DECADES and the true Splendor would have emerged, combed through her unruly hair and donned an outfit from J CREW. It seems as though hell has decided not to freeze over for Splendor’s wardrobe (as well as her hair) is still set on EVIL. Now, let it be noted that Seraph actually took piano lessons and turned out perfectly wicked, thank you very much…



At this point one might ask “where exactly is all of this going?” Well it seems in some faded and bygone era a fan was a required accessory for the proper young lady. Now we have no freaking idea what to do with a fan expect for possibly swatting at the pixies when they swing from the tiebacks or fornicate in the houseplants (we just hate when that happens…) but it appears that there was much complexity in the use of a fan and in fact a secret language could be used to convey covert messages.

Here are a few of our favorite communications. Twirling the fan in the left hand meant “WE ARE WATCHED”, while carrying the fan in right hand in front of the face said “FOLLOW ME”. Covering the left ear with the open fan portrayed “DO NOT BETRAY OUR SECRET” and of course touching the handle of the fan to the lips would say “KISS ME”. And last but not least, dropping the fan meant “WE WILL BE FRIENDS” (you’re damn right, little lady, you will make LOTS of friends THAT way…) We don’t know about you but the secret messages being sent seem rather slutty not at all ladylike. Needless to say, we will be spending the remainder of the evening making up an obscene fan language of our own…


Whores of Hell feel the whip
Sluts of Hell with blood-red lips
Leather and Latex I demand
Shut up Bitch, I am in command!!!!


(“Sluts of Hell” by Nattefrost)

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