Why I chose the name Jellyfish & Stone

I’ve been asked why I chose the name Jellyfish & Stone a few times. It’s a fair question, the name is unusual.

Frankly, I needed a name for my social media presence and I got to this name quite literally.

I like jellyfish and I like stone. Jellies are astounding beings, worthy of investigation and representation. And stone, I love it in both the geological and the archeological senses. These subjects don’t show up much in my art these days, but have in the past, and perhaps again in the future.

It has now been several years since I chose the name, and the implications of the terms have become more meaningful than their literal definition.

Jellyfish

Jellyfish are the most delicate, ephemeral beings. They are ornate, they are simple, they are bright, they are muted, some are short-lived, some are immortal (for reals, look it up). Their diversity is beyond what we yet understand, and they are made of literal jelly. They appear unearthly, but they are very, very much of Earth. Something as simple as our dry, airy, human realm will kill them, and yet some of them can kill an adult human quickly. When we consider jellyfish, we are forced to hold 2 opposing ideas in our minds: they are fragile and lethal at the same time. I love this because it is something we, as a whole society, need more practice with.

A watercolour painting of many different kinds of jellies, in bright colours: pink, yellow, cream, purple, red, orange, and blue. — *Smack of Jellies*

Stone

Stone denotes solidity, immovable presence, great weight, ancient time. When we stand in the presence of mountains, or formations like the Grand Canyon, or the exposed Canadian Shield (reminder: I’m Canadian, eh) we are awed and humbled by the scale of the visible bones of the Earth. Stone also connotes permanence, majesty, legacy. We used it to build our most important structures, our temples and buildings of governance, we carved our goddesses and gods out of it for posterity, we laid down roads of stone. And yet, something as soft and pleasant as wind and rain inevitably erodes it down to modest sand. Again, the idea of holding 2 opposing concepts in mind at the same time: permanence and impermanence.

To sum up:

Jellyfish = fragile + dangerous
Stone = permanent + impermanent

I apply these concepts to myself and my being in the world. As an individual, I struggle with feeling relevant or important to others. Jellies teach me that I can be small and still have an impact. I can be fragile, and I can cause others to pause and pay attention.

As an artist I struggle with the idea of permanence. Shouldn’t my art be around for posterity? Shouldn’t I only use media that are archival? Shouldn’t I have the most perfect social media presence, website, and emails? It turns out that when I get stuck in the ideas of permanence and longevity (and thus perfectionism), I freeze. The weight of it is too much and I collapse under it in a pool of suffocating failure. Dramatic, I know. And true.

When I remember impermanence, that everything will change and nothing lasts, the pressure is eased. Whatever I create for a social media presence, website, and emails, will not be around for 100 years. Will they even be around for 5 years? They can and will change, next week, next month, next year. It doesn’t matter what they will be, it matters what they are now. As for archival media, it has its place. But for the impermanent present, ballpoint ink works fine. 🙂

A drawing of Lizzo singing into a mic, done in blue ballpoint pen

Three fluffy alpacas walking towards a barn, done in blue ballpoint pen.

A marble statue of a youthful man rendered carefully in blue ballpoint pen.

Aside: I have had the experience of being stung by a jellyfish more than once. The culprits were tiny and well camouflaged. There’s only one that I was able to photograph after the act, with a burning arm. This Cassiopeia jelly was just beautiful.