Happy Friday my fellow readers. Whatever your plans are for this weekend, I hope you have fun. To get your weekend started right, today’s blog post is another collaboration, this time with the incredibly talented artist Stefani Rabideaux. Stefani primarily works in gouache and graphite creating stunning pieces which hark back to another era. Her Gothic Girls evoke a sense of magic and intrigue, and every one has its own personality, it’s own history and it’s own story to tell. That’s what immediately drew me to her beautiful work, the fact that each image seemed to take me somewhere else, to transport me to another place in time or another world entirely. As you can imagine, when she agreed to collaborate I was over the moon. For this story, I was truly inspired by those girls, by the darkness and light present in each piece, the hint at something behind their smiles, something knowing, perhaps something dangerous? That is how Mother Horror was born (shout out to the incredible Sadie Hartmann aka Mother Horror on Instagram for inspiring the name. You are the true Mother Horror). If you would like to check out more of Stefani’s work, and why wouldn’t you, you can purchase from her Etsy shop or head to her Instagram for daily inspiration.
The world is a delicate thing, a flower already blooming, creeping slowly towards rot. It’s only a matter of time until the first petal withers and falls, followed quickly by the others. But time he, to the simple creatures who inhabit it, is measured in such small and insignificant increments, months, years, decades, that they cannot envision this inevitability. They live out their lives in blessed ignorance, unaware that the passing of each generation moves them a tiny bit closer to their own end. It’s my job to remind them.
There are dozens of creatures whose lives span many of yours. Some you are familiar with, some you believe to be fiction, mere bed time stories concocted to scare little children into obedience. And then there are the ones like me. Creatures whose dark purposes are so frightful to you, you simply prefer to pretend they don’t exist. But I do exist little ones. I was brought into existence the moment the first sentient thought manifested, millions of years before that snivelling, slimy pustule evolved into you apes. My purpose was very clear in the beginning. I was there to remind the simple creatures which had fought their way out of the primordial ooze the importance of FEAR. Fear, true and real is an essential emotion after all. Fear keeps you alert, it keeps you alive. The fears to begin which were as simple as the creatures themselves; the fear of death, or predators, the fear of starvation or drought. For millennia, fear was merely a means of survival. If something induced fear, it was to be avoided.
Then YOU came along. You, the hairless apes, the beings which harnessed the flame and invented the wheel. And slowly over many generations, fear began to twist and bend into something undefinable, something all encompassing. It evolved into ME. Fear was no longer a survival instinct, but a rod to beat yourselves with. A way to avoid anything outside of your tiny and pathetic routines. It stopped being about real and present threats and became the imagined. When you became the top of the food chain, the alpha predators, I had believed my end would come but instead, you merely hung on to those feelings all the tighter and began projecting them onto anything and everything around you. The fear of survival became the fear of being lonely, misunderstood, disliked or laughed at. The fear of predators and disease became the fear of judgement, ridicule and of failure. My repertoire didn’t shrink, but grew with every technological breakthrough and scientific leap.
Not only did your list of fears grow, but so did your population. You bred and bred like vermin on this earth and have spent so many centuries poisoning and killing it, you created newer and greater fears like the fear of global warming, of global pandemics of anti-biotic resistant drugs, of war and nuclear annihilation. The best part is that these fears are shared. The horrors I paint inside your minds is an infection in of itself, spreading around the globe. You feed off each other, you share your fears on global scales. I can create fear in just a handful of people and watch it spread like a disease, an infection passed along from one to the next until it has engulfed you all. I don’t even need to try that hard anymore, you all do most of the work for me.
I induce panic and terror of every variety, from the small to global, on a daily basis. One moment I am whispering in the ear of a young, teenage girl, feeding her with fears about her body, her ugliness, her inability to fit in. They’re laughing at you, you’re ugly, look at the girls online, look how perfect they are. You’re nothing like them. You’re worthless. The next, I am beside a world leader, filling him with paranoia about ‘them’, whoever the ‘them’ may be on that occasion. They want what’s yours. Are you going to let them take it? If you give in now, where does it end? You have to stop them before it’s too late, before you lose your position of power, you have to win.
The horror does not have to be real, it just needs to be perceived and that is the beauty of my art, for there is beauty in horror just as there is beauty in fear. Whether rational or irrational, real or imagined, I am there to spark it into life, to ignite it and then fan the flames until the fire spreads and burns in the minds of you all. I am Mother Horror and I am your creation.