Continuing to play with "children's" printmaking tools I've made a limited number of this print. A million in one names flies forth from the origin of the world. Superman exits the world's strongest vagina. My first pop culture experience with the female undercarriage was scripted as follows:
Lois Lane: What color underwear am I wearing?Superman: [looking] Hmmm...
Lois Lane: Oh, gee, I embarrassed you, didn't I?
Superman: Oh, no, no, not at all, it's just that this planter must be made of lead.
Lois Lane: Yeah, it is. So?
Superman: Well, I sort of have a problem seeing through lead.
Lois Lane: Oh, that's interesting. [writes] Problem seeing through lead. Do you have a first name?
Superman: You mean, like, Ralph or something?
Lois Lane: [walks away from the planter] No, I mean like -
Lois Lane: Hm?
Superman: Pink. [Lois walks back to the planter.] Sorry, Miss Lane, I didn't mean to embarrass *you*.
You can draw an analogy of Francis Child's collection of Ballads to that of comic books. Or I can later. The ballads offer up story lines that soap operas writers would drool over. One of my favorites is Ballad #295 The Brown Girl. Many of the ballads have to do with love, lover's lost, revenge, bloody justice, and heroes. And just a note to all who enjoy oceanic ballads we like to call chanteys Art Rosenbaum and his Chantey Singers are coming out with their 2nd CD. I've been leaked the song list and it looks like a great selection of songs, some of which will make you get up and jig. If you are into that type of thing. Jeremy Hughes will be designing the cover art so make sure you bug them for a copy when it is released.
295A.1 ‘I am as brown as brown can be,
My eyes as black as a sloe;
I am as brisk as a nightingale,
And as wilde as any doe.
295A.2 ‘My love has sent me a love-letter,
Not far from yonder town,
That he could not fancy me,
Because I was so brown.
295A.3 ‘I sent him his letter back again,
For his love I valu’d not,
Whether that he could fancy me
Or whether he could not.
295A.4 ‘He sent me his letter back again,
That he lay dangerous sick,
That I might then go speedily
To give him up his faith.’
295A.5 Now you shall hear what love she had
Then for this love-sick man;
She was a whole long summer’s day
In a mile a going on.
295A.6 When she came to her love’s bed-side,
Where he lay dangerous sick,
She could not for laughing stand
Upright upon her feet.
295A.7 She had a white wand all in her hand,
And smoothd it all on his breast;
‘In faith and troth come pardon me,
I hope your soul’s at rest.
295A.8 ‘I’ll do as much for my true-love
As other maidens may;
I’ll dance and sing on my love’s grave
A whole twelvemonth and a day.’