REFLECTION: Rare Astronomamagal Creatures and the Imagination

©Sebastien Millon

Today's entry is a hat tip to one of my favorite artists, Sebastien Millon (AKA Sebreg). 

As found on his About page:
Sebastien Millon is an artist.

His work is noted for its lack of vision
and his art is usually muddled in a turbid stew of crockery.

Many artists, art critics, and
frankly most of the public views his work
with great disdain and disrespects everything he is about
(no one actually even knows what he is about, including the artist himself).

Sebastien Millon's work lacks truth, vision, and sadly, any artistic integrity.

Critical Praise of Sebastien Millon:

"I like his work. But not as much as I like drinking."
-Drunky Bear

"Fuck Sebastien Millon. He is a little bitch."

Tongue-in-cheek or just all-around cheeky, his wit and artistic talent have banished many a stormy mood cloud.  It's more than whimsy.  Some moments are profound while others summon up recollections of our childhood and an imagination not yet stained by pragmatical adult reasoning.  Everything is possible - even storm snakes bearing tiny cars or mini-meteor unicorns.

Print available at:

His message is deep at times, departing from a simple one-panel chuckle to cast fresh light on a simple truth.

I suppose I'm drawn to his "Stargazing" for that reason.  Not everything is meant to be owned and controlled.  Sometimes we have to let go of a notion. Sometimes the things we fancy are better off left alone.  Let nature take its course, or let chi flow, or let go and let God, or meditate while ignoring our nagging thoughts.  Whatever your personal approach to life, it's cathartic for us to put aside our nefarious sensibilities from time to time.

And we really should let our imagination run freely from time to time.

Though our minds may no longer effortlessly summon up rare astronomamagal creatures, the wellspring of such delights isn't entirely banished therein.  I prefer to think of them as shuttered in a dark recess of our brains. The door remains fastened tight by a padlock forged from our own incredulous antics and refusal to remain a child (these notions seem to take a firm hold once we plunge into our college years, alas).  The world's Millons, Tolkiens, and Carrols often hold the key, if only we choose to snatch it.


If you're really bored, you might want to check out Matthew Meyer's artistic flair over at, as well. I mean, it's not cute and cuddly, nor profound, but what's not to love about his rendition of cat-eating nozuchi?

Or perhaps pick up a copy of The Wood Beyond the World by William Morris?  It will stretch your imagination and satisfy any fantasy cravings.  Much like Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, Morris' syntax flows in medieval tradition Be forewarned: archaic verbiage is a bitch.  I thrive on it. Other people don't. (I recommend Stephen Chrisomalis' The Phrontistery if you're unsure of a word's meaning.)