SailorTwain104
on August 25, 2010 at 12:01 amHello!
Thanks, all of you who’ve sent in suggestions for the Sailor Twain playlists, from Debussy and Verdi to The Decembrists and more! We’ll be returning to the onboard music soon…
A couple of links to Sailor Twain in the media: one from the Tarrytown Patch, a local Hudson River news site, and an interview by John A. Walsh, where you can also discover his own historical webcomic “Go Home, Paddy.”
Masters of Black and White:
Ba Da Shan Ren
You may remember an earlier entry with one of my favorite painters of all time: Ba Da Shan Ren, also known as Zhou Da and many other names he took on and dropped off in the course of his life. He was a 17th Century Chinese mystic, one of the greatest practitioners of Shu Fa, or The Way of the Brush. Here are two of his chops, or stamp seals… Besides their elegance, I find the translations most intriguing, don’t you? (All these images are from In Pursuit Of Heavenly Harmony.)
I look at Bada’s artwork sometimes when I feel the need to slow down, to make space for something else, in our speedy, crowded world, these crowded lives of ours. So many words, so many dealings, so many details to tend to, so many impressions in one day in New York City. Our modern life can make us so full of noise, and just plain full. I like the Christian idea that JC had to be born in a manger because everywhere the inns were full. In Buddhist and Taoist terms, it’s an attainment to create a vacancy, inside.
Being vacant can allow something to rush into that space. It’s like that for us, and it’s like that for our work. I wonder sometimes about my projects, not in terms of conquest, or of filling up something, but in terms of creating a space that might attract a certain something. Some of the most magical moments with art seem to be in that, not so much what I cleverly contrived.
And sometimes, in looking at Bada Shanren, I feel like my mind brings something to it. It’s not all there on the scroll, on the page; somehow it’s in the meeting with it, what it allows, what it makes space for, what it invites. That’s it. What it invites.
This is a weird entry, perhaps, but maybe some of you will find some nourishing quality in it, and the others won’t mind.
The following four compositions are part of a series. What do they have in common?


















Mark—
Love the drawing of the fella smoking his pipe in panel 2! Also, I don’t think we’ve seen you use this type of page layout before? The way panels 5 & 6 are set apart really works well.
Also, thanks for the link and for taking the time to answer my questions. I’ve received several emails of people singing your praises; seems like everyone knows you to be a good guy!
Diagonal space… A passive allowance, ‘Less is more’, and, ‘Keep it Simple’.. without the ‘Stupid’.. A growing or reaching across the space is developing…
On another level, connected to Verdi, except not so ‘green’ as seasonal?
I love the bent narcissus above though… achingly beautiful. Thank you for showing me/us those.
Actually, on the subject of soundtracks, I thought the work of Thomas Newman suited Sailor Twain quite well. Here’s my favourite song of his:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ZNTWDUrWiI
Can you believe he’s been nominated for an Oscar 10 times but has yet to win it once? I know!
Those pics all make me think of the calm before a storm. Maybe it’s just looking at the smaller thumbnails but the shaded areas look like rolling grey clouds
Thanks, John, Phili, Niall, and KariKatzi (watch out from the mouse’s love bricks!)
So about what these four compositions have in common—any other offers…? Really simple? Really obvious?
Those are beautiful. It’s as if you’re looking from underneath the water of a pond up at the flora on and above the surface of the water. (By the way I love this web comic, you’re doing a wonderful job)
I’d like to add one to the playlist. Unfortunately, my brother wrote it, and so far the only way to hear it is to get him to play it for me on his computer. So I’ve heard it…once… But it does fit. It’s called The Captain and The Corsair. If it ever gets published, I’ll put a link to it.
I am intrigued by the white space in all of them and the peaceful feeling they cause in me. Almost like an inevitable slowing down from a fast pace to where these images cause me to want to be…
I love Twain’t profile in the last panel.
Mark, do you mind if I post one of your pages on my podcast blog? As one of my newly discovered fave webcomics, I plugged you on my podcast and would like to add some of your imagery to a post on my blog to drive more folks here. I was thinking of this page http://sailortwain.com/sailortwain-009/
Thanks for your consideration.
Nicole: but of course—and thank YOU.
Thanks, Meghamonster! And yes, it does feel a bit like underwater.
Mimo! Hi! And yes, yes… getting close!
Anyone else see the obvious?
A river (of space) flows through them. The composition is concentrated beautifully and assymetrically in the corners, with all but the second displaying a barely nocticeable “bridge” to the opposite “shore.” Two corner edges left open in each of them allow the paintings’ gentle energy to continue infinitely.
There are lovely, misty reflections there as well. So very peaceful.
Unlike the heart of our troubled Captain. Oh, the poor man! I just want to hug him sometimes, especially when he looks the way he does in panel 4, which brings me to one of my favorite aspects of your work, Mark: hands.
The disapproving faces in panel 2 are gorgeous. So individual! I get the feeling that their disapproval is all in Twain’s guilty imagination, though. A reflectionm perhaps, of his self-doubt (sorry, couldn’t resist)?
Thanks, Mark.
Done!
In the four pieces, I do see a similar black-line design in each one like a tulip bulb or turnip of some sort. Not sure if that is the similarity and I’m not nearly as poetic in my viewing as others here.
I’ll get there!
I find the images incredibly sensual, even though I wonder what that says about me that I seem to be jumping to that conclusion, while no one else has said it. The negative space is elegantly soft in all of them, and yet something tentatively, slowly, gently reaches out from one side to the other in the series. In the final one for me we have achieved intimate communion between the banks, but because it’s not the same objects moving, it’s about the journey, not the destination. I find them quiet and lovely; they make me smile. (And since I’ve never commented before I want to say, Love the comic, Mark! )
I love that traditional, ancient-looking Asian-style art. I’ve been stuck in a house without Internet, so it’s so nice to be catching up on the story! Intriguing as always.