3Heads

3Heads, 2021

If any of my artwork over the last 35 years is an autobiography, this one is it. '3Heads' was created in 2021 during the UK lockdowns. Unlike ‘Cometh the Beast’, the artwork here draws its inspiration not from the contemporary situation but instead journeys back into the myth and memory of my northern culture and history - an escape into the wonders of the imagination. As such it is a sort of pictorial autobiography. Incidentally, this artwork has more letters than any other – in both English and Old Norse runes.

‘3Heads’ began with a personalised version of the Celtic ‘Triskele’ at the centre of the page. ‘Tri’ + ‘skele’ is Greek for ‘three legs’ and it is an ancient Celtic symbol (it’s been found at Newgrange in Ireland dated at around 3200bc) which has represented many things throughout the ages. For me, it is the ‘three-in’one’ nature of the Eternal One, reflected throughout the creation. Although I never consciously drew it for that reason at the time, surrounding it with three eyes could mean the all-seeing nature of God  – past, present, future/body, soul, spirit etc).

Then come the three heads: if you’ve read the story behind ‘Redemption’ you’ll know that the number ‘3’ represents ‘completeness’ or ‘perfection’.

Firstly, at the top of the page we have the ‘Mushroom Head’, with the house representing family and home, and the drakkar (Viking longships) of my family’s ancestors, the seagulls of Whitby and the northern sea monsters (Grendel or Kraken – there are many in our folklore) that inhabited the ancient sagas.

The psilocybin mushrooms, or ‘magic mushrooms’ are a reference to my interest in these naturally psychedelic fungi, which my brother and I collected from time to time (not only us – it was relatively common pastime for teenage boys of a certain ilk!) Like many other country folk no doubt, there are a few tales to tell involving magic mushrooms.

There was the  hilarious New Year’s Eve party at a neighbour’s house that my youngest brother and I were invited to once. Everyone was watching ‘The Emerald Forest’ when we arrived, ‘on mushrooms’ – I think the emerald bit was probably more vivid for us than most. I remember the waterfall on the TV especially seeming very real indeed! I’m not sure my parents realised we were on mushrooms at the time to this day…

To the right a person climbs a stepladder to a sky of breasts while a ‘smiley’ looks on. My introduction to the delights of the female form after leaving home, perhaps? Or a yearning for a return to the comfort of ‘mother’? The acronyms to the right of the stepladder are all clues to my situation after leaving home in 1986: AH, STD, TASC, BED and the LSVI drawn onto the entwined snakes which first appeared in ‘Awakening’, more than 30 years ago.

The second head is what a cousin described as ‘The Green Man’ – the ancient pagan ‘Man of the Woods’. It wasn’t intentional: the acorns and leaves just represent the oak trees (with the child on the swing) of childhood holidays. My family used to go with our cousins during the summer holidays to an old shared caravan which sat in an ancient oak copse on the edge of the North Yorkshire Moors. They were idyllic holidays of den-making, tree-climbing and roast potatoes, games and evenings around a campfire under the stars.

Next, if we move towards the right, is a headless torso holding its head on a stick while above, the head has been replaced by a bottle of rum, which I used to drink during my student days. Skulls abound along with an equation: Rum³ + bottle-opener + sad, empty head, perhaps a reference to my wasted intellect during those years. Beneath this is a knotwork with seven letters upon it – these represent my own name ‘APH’ and those of the girl I met at that time who would later become my wife – ‘MAGC’. Above, the doodle of an old, moustachioed man though not intentional, appears to be her father. Strangely, the Roman numerals that form his crown or beret, number 11 – which was the number of years from when we met to our getting married.

To the right of the old man is a plesiosaur swimming above a tower that flies a flag with no allegiance – it is blank. The wooden keep and stockade are of the sort that sprang up all over England following the Norman invasion in 1066. I remember learning about these ‘motte and bailey’ castles in my History lessons at Caedmon School; there are plenty around Whitby –  Pickering Castle is a great example as Guillaume le Conquerant replaced the local Viking  jarls with those Norman knights who had fought with him to take the throne promised to him by the English king. The plesiosaur reminds me of the wonderful fossil that adorns one of the walls of Whitby Museum – well worth a visit if you’re in the area. Written along the body of the sea lizard, beginning with the tail, is a name in runes – the alphabet of the Vikings – ending with an ancient fish symbol, the IKTHUS. Next to the plesiosaur, a wild goose, which was the symbol for the Spirit of God for the Celtic Christians, flies over cliffs and three eyes. The heads of the geese point towards a Trinity Knot – another ancient Celtic symbol – which sits atop the fragmenting third head of the artwork.

This head, which resembles one you might see in New Age art has a third eye in its forehead but a tear falls from one of its natural eyes, indicating sadness while there seems to be flames emanating from the top of the skull. Although I dallied with paganism during my younger years it never brought me the peace I yearned for.

To the right of the head is an open palm from behind which two Moomins peek. I was introduced to the Moomins in the form of a colouring present one Christmas when we lived in Sleights, near Whitby. My wife, who is French, had never heard of the Moomins so I guess it is a northern European thing. The Moomins are a family of cute fairy-tale creatures who live in Moominvalley and go through various adventures with each other and their friends. They were created by the Finnish-Swedish artist, Tove Jansson and I love them.

Above the Moomins we return to the sea with its ammonites, the prehistoric marine animals whose fossilised shells can be found by the thousand at the base of the cliffs of Whitby and its environs. Ammonites are known locally as snakestones. The local legend says that when Saint Hilda arrived in Whitby to set up her monastery, the cliff was plagued by snakes. So, to make the place safe, she banished them all by driving them off the cliff, whereupon they fell onto the rocks below to become the snakestones we see today. There’s a similar story about the Romano-British Saint Patrick upon his arrival in pagan Ireland back in the 6th century.

Fossiling was great summer entertainment for us ‘bairns’, bairn being North Yorkshire dialect for child, which has its origin in the Scandinavian word, ‘barn’). It was even better if we found some jet, which I did one summer – a huge piece – between Staithes and Port Mulgrave. Unfortunately, I forgot about it once we sat down on the rocks for our picnic! The ammonite is the symbol of Whitby and can be seen on its shield. Finally, beyond the Moomins and ammonites are three stylised fish swimming away into the great North Sea.