...on delights

so there's this illustrator we use.

and he's fantastic for spot work. spots are the 4 inch by 4inch illustrations you would see at the front of a magazine. try to keep up.

anyway, he does a block of them for us so we can get one of our columns put together on time. every time. it doesn't suck.

his new style has begun to reflect an almost bosch like sensibility to them. and bosch is a personal favorite of mine.

"i mean look at these guys on the side rob. they have a whole garden of earthly delights quality to them. i'm waiting for them to start crapping little souls of the damned out of their backsides?"

"ummm, what do you mean?"

"the garden of earthly delights, it's a famous tryptic that hieronymous bosch painted back before the renaissance which oddly ended up in the bedroom of the guy in charge of the spanish inquisition"

"okay"

the bastard calls the image up on screen.

"it's like this. the first panel has the creation and adam and eve in it, then the garden of earthly delights and the third panel is one of hell."

"so it's the creation, followed by the corruption of this earth, followed by the end results."

"exactly."

you see, rob knows how to understand a painting, which is nice. sometimes when the bastard talks about old paintings, he can hear crickets.

and that's not nice.

"so the thing would close and there was a painting on the outside of the tryptic."

"i see, you know what would be really good?"

"what?"

"if there was a sneeze guard of earthly delights at the salad bar in his castle too."

delicious. however, i don't know if patrons would find images of bird headed men crapping out people would fly at the holy roman emperor's salad bar.

—the bastard