I find these drawings by Jason Whitman, with their accompanying statements, strangely moving. The words are so tender. The animals express their complaints and their wonder about living in a post-modern world.
I’ve gotten to a point where I don’t think we should talk anymore. I’ve gotten to point where there is no point. I think everything is fine until you throw the past before me like some small animal braving a highway. Do I swerve? Do I close my eyes and hope for the better? Oh, man if I do hit it, please please let me go ahead and help cross to whatever is on the other side.
What were we even talking about? When all is said and done I’m left shaking and unable to make sense of what you just said. I just know someone has been hurt. I’m not so certain as to why.
Vanessa Ruiz of Street Anatomy asked Jason “why he stuck these finger-puppet-like heads on the outline of a skeleton.” Here is his reply:
The animal heads just stand in for personal shortcomings we all have, and have to accept. The skeletons are the unifying element. Like, I know you got problems, but so do I and so do they. I wasn’t really sure where I was going with it at first, but then I read this Vonnegut bit where he was talking about Moby Dick and an act called “flensing,” where the whalers would cut down to the bone, because it was the only way to get to the soul. Something about forgiving the soul for what the meat had done. Reading back over that, it sounds a little more disturbing than I meant. I don’t know, but there’s something fragile and tender about that hard structure in each of us.
There are currently 33 drawings, with text, available for viewing — and purchase ($15) — on Etsy.
Here’s another one, followed by a comment.
I recently found myself in a blizzard of souls. I drove into the nearby college town to take in some music by She and Him. There I stood in a flurry of ironic shirts, postures made edgy, and PBR. All these folks were trying so hard to be so individual, but turned into one gruesome avalanche of coolness. No need to run, because I was right there with them.
Then I looked closer, and I could make out your shape. I could make out who you really were. You were on the verge of breaking, but didn’t care, and in a constant fall. You were frail and succeptible to the summer’s heat that waited beyond the exit. You had weight and tenderness. You restored my faith in others. Maybe they were like you, but in a different way.
Thanks to Vanessa at Street Anatomy – one of my favorite sites on the web.
Related posts:
Skateboard art: From Adam and Eve to modern medicine
Anatomically correct shoes
Things that make you go “Oooohhhh!” Why we can’t resist babies
How cats control their humans
Stoned wallabies make crop circles
Sources:
(Links will open in a separate window or tab.)
Jason Whitman, Estranged Species prints at altardbeast’s Shop, Etsy
Vanessa Ruiz, Estranged Species, Street Anatomy, March 29, 2010
From Jason Whitman:
Hey. I just happened across this. I wanted to thank you for the very
kind words. Vanessa’s site is also a favorite. I’ve been on a bit of
a hiatus with the species, but your compliments are encouraging. Thank
you.
The above comment is actually from Jason Whitman, not me. I changed blogging platforms on May 1, from Movable Type to Word Press. This comment came in on Movable Typeand I couldn’t import it to Word Press (line breaks in posts don’t import either, unfortunately).
Thanks for commenting, Jason. I would love to see more in this series. The words are very existential/poetic.