Check out this painting:
This is The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch. It’s really three paintings—a triptych—and it has to be one of the coolest works of art ever. Notice how there’s pretty much no empty space anywhere to be seen?
The desire to fill every space with detail is something I often did naturally as a kid, probably getting lost in the process of drawing itself. My lovely high school art teacher, Jackie Chalfant, would encourage me not to do this, but to look at the totality of the piece, not to get lost in the minutiae, and to consider the open space as its own form.
She was the first to give me a name for this phenomenon: horror vacui.
Over the ensuing lifetime, I’ve come to appreciate this concept for its own sake. Horror vacui is fascinating.
My favorite comic book artists from the late 80s and early 90s used this concept. Once we were aware of it, my art-nerd friends and I would constantly make fun of Todd McFarlane’s inability to allow any square centimeter without pen strokes:
The sheer challenge of copying a cover like this faithfully, working through hand cramping and constant laser-like focus on details, caused me to get lost in the process of creating my own little piece of art.
Getting lost in the art is amazing and fun, but there are times when it can detract from the overall piece, too. I’m not sure if that’s what happened here, but I’m going to share this image one more time:
While "horror vacui" is a well-recognized term in the art world, its implications stretch far beyond the canvas. Today, we are surrounded by stimuli. Social media notifications, endless emails, and incessant messages keep us hooked to our screens. This constant barrage of information makes us the ping-pong balls in a never-ending game, bouncing from one alert to the next, filling every moment with some form of engagement.
There's never a dull moment, as the saying goes. But is this a good thing?
FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) is another real-life horror vacui. We're compelled to be a part of every trend, to know every update, fearing the void that might come with inactivity or disconnection. Being disconnected can feel like being left out in the cold.
Like with a canvas where the artist ignores the totality of the piece, you really don’t want to end up with a metaphorical Monkey Christ just because you’re so focused on the task right in front of your nose.
Taking a moment to step back and assess how you’re feeling—and what you should really be doing with your time—is important. It breaks the spell that dopamine has on your mind, allowing you to stop being that ping-pong ball, at least for a while.
Seeking Silence
Amidst this cacophony, there's a deep-seated human need for stillness. We need to have moments where we’re not in “go mode” all the time.
One way to get there is through meditation and mindfulness, and some folks have found a path there through yoga or martial arts. Other people can deliberately, methodically take charge of their time management with a top-down approach. Horror vacui, often our default, is very much bottom-up, and it often shows in the results of our lives.
Whatever works for you, getting rid of this paralyzing fear of moments where nothing is happening is crucial. Quiet your mind so that you can focus on what’s important when you need to.
What helps me to stay on this path (most of the time) is the understanding that focus is finite. That means I should dole out my focus to the things that really matter, and that’s what I’ve tried to do with my time, and with this Substack.
Macabre Monday
I wanted to do something new for this Macabre Monday. I recognize that “horror vacui” as a concept isn’t exactly 100% on theme, but I do hope that folks come to view being the ping-pong ball as somewhat scary.
Every Monday, a growing group of writers gets together to celebrate horror films, shows, books, and more. Most are recommendations of sorts, which has resulted in a lot of good ideas for things to watch during this spooky season!
If you’re looking for something to watch within the horror genre, follow the official
page, managed by . Jeff was inspired by Sci-Fridays and wondered if we could create something new, and I’m super glad he took the lead on this! It has been frightfully fun.Last week, I kind of cheated again for Macabre Monday by writing about my interview with the horror punk legends the Misfits.
If you’d like to check out (or revisit) my previous horror genre recommendations, you can find Horror TV from the 80s, this list of great horror shows, and some really creepy movies I recommend. And, you can read about the creepy tree in my back yard.
What are some of your favorite examples of horror vacui? Have you noticed that you do some of these things, too?
I played with a similar concept in my novel. Instead of painstaking world-building, I left a lot to the imagination. For example, I have one character, Ethan Odhiambo who actually changes sides in the conflict. The only thing you know about him is his name and position. You learn he's a runner and only later is there a vague reference to where his family comes from. I don't describe his physical features or anything. I leave a ton of empty space.
I only truly describe the two main characters. Even explicit details about the scenes are quiet unless they advance the plot.
In contrast, J.R.R. Tolkien did incredible world-building with intimate details and stories down to developing his own languages (Elvish to name one)
Robert Jordan, of The Wheel of Time fame, also had tons of details and characters. In fact, after Fourteen books! what I can say is that he got lost in his own story and it took Brandon Sanderson to weave the conclusion from hundreds of detailed threads.
This happens in musical composition for me. Upon re-listening to a mix while writing, I can hear the empty spaces fill up in my head—a string counter melody or a blast of trumpet punctuation. A chorus of damn angels if I let it. And inevitably when I strip it back out, trusting that an engaged listener might fill those rests with their own imagined score, it takes all my will to not shovel back in a load of fill. Space is good. Catch your breath.