Everyone is leaving, look. I'll be back in a few days. Until then be busy. Choppedintwo has been drawing, JSBJ have a new one out and Jeffrey Lewis has been singing and educating with his Anti Folk Complete History of Punk Rock. If you're lost read back a few months, I double dare you.
Paris in the spring. To walk around the arrondissements, to sit and enjoy the passers-by. To remember how many times you had closed your eyes and dreamt of being right there. To hold the hand of another who feels the same. To take pictures. To ask for un petit dejeuner pour deux personnes. To forget which metro you must get off at. To not go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. To kiss the grave of a poet, to pretend you're deeper then you are. To spend an hour studying the footwear of those seated nearby. To wear stripes, to wake early, to cherish the hour it has given you. To be in Paris in the spring.
I made a video called French Cafe a while back. Feel free to take a look. It features music by Gustavo Santaolalla, who really is one of my all timers. The film 21 Grams has an amazing soundtrack, thanks to Santaolalla, as does The Motorcycle Diaries and Amores perros. Be sure to get round to seeing them all.
Sorry I don't have more to show today, I've been très busy with one thing and another. If you've got time to spare, here are two pieces I have put online which were in Art&sons last year. Nothing exciting, but perhaps insightful.
All Girl Summer Fun Band is perhaps my least favourite name for a group ever. Regardless, I noticed that they have a music video, all 1.48 of it, which was directed by Gregory Brown. He was the guy who co-directed The Shins 'Kissing the Lipless'. So I gave it, and subsequently them, a chance. I'll not pass judgment on the music, you do that, here is the video.
On to Brown. His website features eight videos. Not all are from bands I can claim to love, but I am enthralled by the feel of each video. I started with the Rabbit and Chicken short, pointless, but entertaining. In the case of the All Girly Band he has done exactly what is required. he has churned out a good video, despite a poor song. Then when he gets hold of good songs, with the help of The Shins as well as The Decemberists it's a recipe for great music video's well worth a watch.
I stumbled upon several strange projects and artists today, I'll just feed you some links, click at your own leisure. Firstly the oddly named Broken Wrist Project, who seem to have died a death, but there are some books to look through. Speaking of looking through, I didn't have time to give this nieves site my full attention, but I'll do so when I get a chance, go ahead and give it a try, it looks fun.
Lastly I think I'll start reading this a bit more. They produce work such as the picture above. Gotta keep in the loop...right? It helps that they're great...right?
When did you fall in love with art / music / reading / writing? Has the love of a gripping tale always been in your blood, or were you plucked from a neutral position and thrust into one of admiration for a haunting harmonica? I have no doubt that everyone has their own story with all things art related. Some are born to appreciate, understand and critic, others work hard to grasp and pass judgment. Some have thoughts of grandeur, grandeur that is built on an ideal, which in turn they strive to live out. Few succeed, if in fact success is fitting for such a life.
I have thought long and hard about when I fell in love with music. I have tried to pinpoint the album which changed me from a listener to a lover. It's harder then you think. I know that my first cd was Cornershop - Brimful of Asha. In terms of art, i'm at a loss. What bowled me over? What caught my eye that very first time? Is it even possible to say "I fell in love with music that day", or watercolour, or photography. Maybe it is, maybe it's a ridiculous thought. I'll get back to you on it.
In other news today I would like to point you in the direction of The Quiet Life's Camera Club. Every few months I go take a peek, and it's about time I reminded you all of it. Curator at the moment is Isaac McKay-Randozzi. His website mydumbluck has been featured here before, and reminds me of my favourite song lyric of all time. It's from James Figurine (dumbluck link) 'I turned off my phone, you did the same And we fought face-to-face like it was the 90s again.' It's from 55566688833, from the album Mistake Mistake Mistake Mistake.
All of that brought me to Andy Mueller's site, and his portraits book. Here, see what you think. I like his tear sheets stuff too.
All this Skateboard nonsense has reminded me that, while I am unable to tell you when I fell in love with the various forms of art, I could sing you a song, write you a poem, or do an interpretive dance outlining the day I fell in love with skateboarding. Funny that. I don't even skate anymore.
If life could be, as easy as a few words, put right by an ounce of sense, set in place through a scribbled blurb. If prose could do, all that it says, if thoughts translated would turn into mornings woken and nights passed. Grit and dust line the crevasses created by worry, sweat rolling off brows frowned in distress, knees cracking, backs hurting arms flailing frequently, profanities flying, eloquently.
If it all could occur, on a level plain, a day without wonder, an existence void of need. Then what. Then words would cease. Those words which can do nothing. There is no need, yet now they are gone. Now they have flown. Oh how I miss them. Their naivety, their wishful thinking. Their truth.
I am trying to learn the art of letter writing. This involves the three P's. Pen, Paper and Practice, oh wait make that four, Post Office.
I sometimes feel like letter writing is dying, but then I see those around me who continue to write, receive and explore all that you can do in letter format. It excites me to not hear the clicking of keys in direct correlation to words being created and to know that copy pasting and spell checking are miles away.
It is not just the sitting down with a pen and paper. It's the gathering of your thoughts and the decision to dedicate the time to the recipient, time which isn't punctuated with instant messages, updates and song shuffles. It's the walk to the Post Office, the standing in the queue. Most precious in it all, it's the waiting which comes post sending. The bated breath, held, longing for a confirmation of arrival, or better still, a response. Mornings are brighter when you think there may be something other then a bill to grace your palms.
I realise the picture above rather contradicts all that I have said regarding pens paper etc, but a typewriter is surely a symbol of the letter, plus I really like the shot. It came from JPOG's Flickr page. Take a look.
Sooner or later we all quote our mothers. I mentioned this fact to my mother today, she smiled, then offered no comment on the matter for me to subsequently quote here. Happy Mothers Day.
One of the many great things about the internet is the ability to have what you're after in an instant. Full books, plays and poetry are out there to be read, albeit not in paper format, but beggars can't be choosers. If you've never enjoyed The Importance of Being Earnest please do, here. If you're a fan of poetry try Henry Wadsworth Longfellow for size today, and if you don't know what time it is or the day for that matter, check out the human clock or human calendar. Great fun.
In light of my opening remark I read some other quotes today, just to pass the time. Solomon Short is fictional, yet the quote “The only winner in the War of 1812 was Tchaikovsky" rings true. I listened to the overture today, beautiful.
I've seen some great collections of links in my time, but this will really keep you clicking. All swell. Incidently the links were provided by Liz Kuball, who also provided the photo for today. Go Liz.
It's all well and good looking at beautiful photography and listening to ground breaking music, but every now and again you've got to wake up, recognise it's a Saturday and go internet hunting for something different, something to let your hair down to.
Enter Leslie and the LY's. It can't be serious, or at least it certainly never was intended to be serious, but three records later the junior gems are still wanting more and I must admit, i've listened to 'Blame the booty' several times already today.
Front woman Leslie Hall, aka Mother Gem, invites your attention, she really has let herself go, but is using it to her advantage. Does that make it ok? Just take a look at these images and decide for yourself. I'm mesmerized by the gold spandex and the way she has gone all out to be everything that is 'in' right now. Over the top? Yes. So cheesy it's great? Why yes! Celebration of her size? Of course.
I know it won't be to everyone's liking, but that's by the by. The picture above comes from here, and is directly influenced by the likes of this place, which has been churning out the best burgers in Dublin for quite some time. It would also sit well in the likes of Circus, another Dublin must see/visit, which currently is showcasing some pretty nifty 'Cheap as Chips' artwork. Read more on their blog, take a step inside. 1 | 2 | 3
While listening to Mother Gem I have been reading an interview with Superbomba. She's described as, "an upstanding young collectress who scours the world’s dusty drawers for epic and anti-epic photography", and they've hit the nail on the head. Epic and anti-epic are her forte. Here is the interview, and here are the infamous photo's. Just incase anyone is interested in finding their favourite and posting a link below, here is mine. I think it's the notes which make it.
There are two photographers I would like you to take a good hard look at today. The first is Swede Martin Adolfsson. His work is largely client based and spans the globe. The shots which caught my eye however were those from Stockholm, seen above, and from Client DN Resor. He does all sorts, people, places, houses. His project looking at middle class living suburbiagonewild has some fantastic photography, please take a chance with this link.
Secondly today we have Washington DC photographer Ramell Ross. He seems young, which makes his work all the more inviting. His ideas are captured beautifully, not only by the titles he gives them, such as 'Verbs' or 'Six and a half', but the obvious instruction he has given in order to capture them. Great work.
Lastly let us take a step away from the photo related links which I've probably over done these last few days. This video of an old water tower from MB, 'Justmakingstuff' reminded me of the 1993 classic, What's Eating Gilbert Grape, tedious link anyone?
In other news it's Spike Lee's birthday today. I know he's a big shot and famous, but the only two Spike's I like are Milligan and Jonze. Best Skate video ever? Close.
I have stumbled upon so much great stuff this morning, and it has all come from finding 'theartmarket'. They are an artist-led initiative based in Leeds City Centre, UK, and while their website hasn't been updated since November, which suggests perhaps that they have ceased, the work that is already there leads one to all sorts of treats.
Eclections was their last work, which involved 20 artists each submitting 20 pieces of art, 19 of of which were taken by the fellow artists, with one remaining in the exhibition. It was an exchange, so those organising picked artists with various talents, as to create quite the mishmash.
The pieces which stood out for me included work from Patrick Gildersleeves, whom I have mentioned before here, as well as the shots submitted by Kristy Noble. Her documentary projects have such a strange feel to them, I really like them, and her work with kraffhics, who I assume are a band, is highly original and so eye-catching.
Lucy Cheung, aka, crushevil also submitted work for the Eclections exhibition. Her blog recently has been full of very strange traditions and the photography that goes along with them. West African Masquerade is a sight and Armagh Rhymers have made a feature, as have Mummers of all sorts. Take a look, she's onto something, i'm just not quite sure why.
Her artwork is so intricate, yet I can't really begin to grasp it. I suppose I'd just like a copy of this little black book regardless of if I 'get it' or not. Her colourful portrait, work which you can see here is just as intricate in a whole other way.
Just incase anyone cares, that is where I blog from most days. The big window looks out to some of the most beautiful mountains, mountains which are appearing to come closer and closer as the days become clearer. The plants love to listen to me, but aren't very chatty.
Isn't it strange how the most simple of things can satisfy us in ways that we never thought possible. Take bread for example. Give me a great loaf, freshly made or a flapjack finished with a slither of dark chocolate and i'm all smiles.
If i'm peckish and want some great bread here i'd make a trip to this place, which would mean I would have to pass by this view.
Routine routine, don't shy away from it. If it comes naturally great, if not don't force it. Oh sunny afternoon. A chance to take a drive to the coast and turn an ankle or two on the rubble, returning home or going for a quiet drink and a game of cards. I never tire of the coast.
I have always loved the Anthem Magazine logo, but have never fallen hookline for their publication. Even so they conducted a short interview with Killpixie which I had not read until today, here. I think he slots nicely into my top 5 artists. Anyways seeing the interview reminded me of those which I had conducted last year for my Art&sons magazine. I think i'll post some links next week, so keep an eye out.
What does your mind drift off towards as the summer approaches? Sand? Surf? BBQ's? Motorbike holidays to the South of France? I wish. What a dream come true that would be, just me, my beloved, and two old bikes, thundering along on the right hand side of the road, grease on our shins and bugs in our teeth. BMW have created a GPS drawing site, where you can hook up your GPS to your bike and draw an image with the trail you leave. Here, have a look.
Billboard art is by no means a new movement, nor it seems are 18 foot billboards of cutout cowboys and giant babies. John Cerney has been throwing up these roadside wonders since the early 90's. His site has lots to look through. The shot above comes from a farm in western Iowa. According to his site Cerney convinced the parents of an ex-produce worker friend to allow him to place this unusual domestic scene on the edge of their farm off Highway 30, near Dunlap, Iowa. Good sports.
Now take a close look at the picture. Take note of the main colour in the painting being hung, as well as the colour of the trees in the background, and of course the colour of the grass the Dalmation is seated on. It's all green.
There you have it folks, green, that's as close as a mention of today as you'll get from me.
Fact. Reusable shopping bags are the new t-shirts, so stop hunting around for witty slogans on sweatshop made garments and get a looking for some limited edition on the shoulder numbers.
There are two ways to go when looking for shopping bags that you want to reuse, or at least that’s what I’m seeing. You can either find some that have been designed specifically for the function mentioned, such as these from Peepshop, or you could find an ordinary bag, which fits the bill, and reuse it.
There are of course some rules to this new hip cool movement, which I will share with you now, tongue firmly planted in cheek.
Firstly if you’re going to buy a bag specifically for the task, make sure it’s a standout piece by a noted artist, none of these please. This means you can rise to the top of the cool tree again, as being uber cool while being eco-friendly is that step above just being eco-friendly, which every Tom, Dick and Harry are doing these days.
Secondly, if you’re going to take it upon yourself to label a specific bag ‘my grocery bag’ the most outlandish, largest and usually that which holds buckets of irony, is the way to go. I’ve seen several cool cats sporting one of these Ikea blue bags. I like it.
Here are some links, just to get you thinking. Freitag make a Miami Vice bag from truck tarp, while Gecko traders make a mean tote from a rice bag. Me? I’m a fan of a good old fashioned brown paper grocery bag, which you then tear down and write notes and letters on.
On to other things, and Spin's studio projects have had my attention today. The design work in the three publications [ Spin 1, 2 & 3] is stunning, and the shots which show them off are how publications should be previewed. Other then that i've been watching this video clip over and over, it's showing the spread of Walmart over the years, and as for the image above, well I just liked it.
Things to do today, the fourteenth of March. Firstly, let us all wake up slowly and perfectly with some Etui in our weekend ears, 'It will always be with me' is a fine choice for that post slumber solitude.
The opposite of work is of course play, and while it comes in wide variety of forms I think this Saturday deserves a good old-fashioned play. A teenage favourite was always Hairstylerunner. See what you can do Toni, or is it Guy?
If you’re all played out ignore this one, for it’s not for the faint hearted. Choose your own adventure books were like gold dust in our school library, and looking back, when I did get my hands on one I never stuck with my choice, I always went back and changed my mind if it wasn’t heading in the right direction…regrets.
So, now that you’ve chosen your own adventure book and are awaiting the postman’s delivery you’ve time to spare. Dvd anyone? I watched Rushmore last night. A couple of things:
Firstly, people say I look like Wes Anderson. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, he seems rather pointy. Secondly and more importantly, what a film. Watch it, and while you’re at it, listen to the soundtrack, for it’s a wonder. Anything with 'Nothing In This World' by The Kinks slots into my best pile. Also, the guys who staged that photo above deserve a mention. We Are Paran Maum. 1 | 2
Short and sweet today. Matt Canale's mailbox is a great example of remembering home in a fun way. His portraits have caught my eye as well.
Remember when you were a kid and you wanted to build a fort, or a tree house, or a cardboard something or other. You could never find enough materials, your parents would never spare the kitchen table, that one piece of wood you knew would make the perfect floor. Then you grow up and you have a car, and all the means to get the things you once could only dream of. BUt you don't do it. Time for changes. Time to find a tree.
Today has been busy, and therefore I haven't had a chance to look at too much more. It saddens me when I don't get time to do this, but it's all about making time. When you're having a busy day fly on over to Elizabeth Garvey's drawing page, full of so much colour you'll have a grin before you know it. Have a look.
You can so easily waste away an hour or two online. In the blink of an eye afternoon has come and gone, but oh how the hour before a lunch break hangs before you when it’s just you and your work, niggling like a loose tooth it is.
With all this new technology and digital media projectors being used more and more it's about time the art of hand shadows was looked into and taught. We all give it a go when given the chance, even if it's just a lame attempt at a bird or spider, so how about we work on one or two today and surprise those who thought they knew us with a new skill. I'll admit I don't know the first thing about hand shadows, but Henry Bursill has quite a few to show you, here knock yourself out.
Banksy is old news, but this video, shot by Seth Brau, is a fair documentation of his Village Petstore & Charcoal Grill from last year. The bits that always get me are the chimp with his blinking eyes and the chicken dippers. Oh Banksy you're some pup.
I hear Savannah is a really great place. I hope to visit one day. Musician Bob James currently resides there, a little bit older, but not any better. His track Angela is one I have always loved, so it saddens me to hear the Purple Bamboo version up on his myapce. Try and find the original if you have the time.
“I shall perish if I can write about no-one but myself." Sylvia Plath wanted to document, to case study the whole of Devon. I thought. Maybe there is something here that warrants some prose. Perhaps a scribble, yet more then just a glance, or a tainted inflection recorded in ink.
I am sure that there is, for life does not migrate away from places as beautiful as this. Yet beauty is squashed here. It peers through dome shaped drops, resting on rusted railings and smoke filled cabs. It is diluted by the acceptance of its presence, never acknowledged, never embraced. They do nothing to celebrate it, and for so long I wanted to grasp their damp lapels and shake their eyes into alignment with the mountains. Then it dawned on me, what more can one do? As the rain teams down, as the sky goes from grey to grey, what more can one celebrate but those things which go hand in hand with dourness.
Tired and true is the newest work from Eric Timothy Carlson who I write about quite a bit on here. He really does keep himself busy, and I love it. Keep your mind fixed upon that which you love and give it your all, even when things round and about are dour
How do you feel today? Who needs to know what anyone is truly feeling? Do I become weak at the mere utterance of an “I am feeling…” Some think emotion is a bad thing.
More then ever, people are opening up and telling the world exactly how they feel. You see the blog allows one to open up just like a diary, except these diaries are accessible by the whole world, not just your younger brother when he steals it from your bedside table.
Ever since 2005 ‘We Feel Fine’ has been systematically retrieving these electronic diary entries from online. It’s a piece of experimental art that has been compiling the worlds feelings for nearly five years.
Every day 15,000 – 20,000 new feelings are added, along with the sentence from which the emotion was taken. Here glance through the findings.
They use the internet, and blog data to scour for the phrases, “I feel…” and “I’m feeling…” they then take these sentences, along with the blog data, such as the authors gender, age and location, and add it to the ever growing database of feelings.
The general idea is that you can look for what a boy from Iceland was feeling the day after Þjóðhátíðardagurinn day last year. Me, I just flitted about on it, give it a go. Who knew experiental art could be so useful?
It is the work of Jonathan Harris, who has a rather impressive resume. He's been busy cutting up Polaroids and telling stories with his friends. I like Elizabeth's idea and Jospeh's too, i'm not too sure about Jonathan's. Anyways, give them your attention, see how it makes you feel, then write about it. You never know who's reading. Me? I feel like Ben Huff's 'The last road north' is beautifully shot.
I have never been one to admit it, but I love trucks. Now I don’t mean diggers or tractors, nor do I mean pick-up trucks. I’m talking about lorries, eighteen-wheelers, just like those above.
I never really knew why I was so fascinated with them. I have been a Freitag fan and owner for a few years, but it wasn’t that. I thought at first it was the solid blocks of colour on the trailers, dirty and aged by the elements. Maybe it was the cabs, covered in lettering, some personalised, others blank, a moving metal canvas.
Of course I love that about them, but it wasn’t just that which held my attention. You see it was the story that I would dream up in my mind as I hurtled past them. The cargo that they were delivering, their destination, the sights they had seen.
I say they, and I mean they. Driver and truck. One. Let’s face it, they get pretty bad press do truck drivers, and while I’m not going to try and argue to the contrary, they can’t all fit the sordid mould that has been set upon them.
Here is an extract from a truck drivers’ blog that I’ve been reading lately. They too are finding it tough right now.
“I think almost half of us got laid off. It didn't happen all at once but day by day and week by week I kept noticing missing bodies and thinking "Hey, what happened to that guy who used to...." Eventually it got to the point in the yard where you could hear too clearly. No cranes running, nothing being crushed, no hammering or clanging or drilling. Just a few people talking about how they had never seen it this bad before.”
I’ve been reading some posts from lifeontheroad too. Here is a post by a drivers’ wife, it will get you thinking.
I wonder if I’ll ever get to hitch a ride with a truck driver. Probably not. Incidentally Noe Flum takes photograph for Freitag, including these shots of a truck, which I love. Have a rummage through his portfolio today. Maybe I need to start reading Das Magazine…
07/03/09 Baking a loaf for my dad
There is not only an art to baking bread, but it looks like so much fun. Don't believe me? Wildyeast has it all. Potato bread, Fennel and Pepper Taralli and what so far is my favourite to imagine biting into, which is the Tortas de Aceite (Olive Oil Wafers).
Sam Ashton's front cover for the Nature Don't Panic has caught my eye today.
06/03/09 A poem should not mean but be
"Spring surprised us, running through the market square. And we stopped in Prynne’s rooms in a shower of pain."
Some of Veronica Forrest-Thomson's poetry can be read here, and here is some info on her.
There is quite a good review / study on her stuff available here. I never knew about Forrest-Thomson before today, but I suppose having died so young, and therefore not producing a great deal of work, that which was available was very much kept to the small confines of Cambridge classes. I often wonder what would have become of people such as herself, who showed such talent, but had only 27 short years to make their mark.
In the film 'The Wackness' psychologist Dr. Jeffrey Squires (Ben Kingsley) gives some advice. He says, "Never trust anyone who doesn't like the beach. Never ever ever trust anyone who says they don't like dogs." I think he's got a point, but i'd also like to add, never trust anyone who doesn't enjoy a good game of cards.
Several summers ago my friends and I took an ordinary game and turned it into our own. Rules were dreamt up and tactics remodeled. If you do play cards you should try it, just create a few new rules. Of course there will be friction as the old guard passes and the new rules take center stage, but fight it. Here is quite an amusing website. It's got a whole list of artists who have designed playing cards. There is the truly awful 'Cats, Cakes, Clothes and Cups' set from Dianne Longley, the authentic Karl Gerich set, then my personal choice, Ben Crenshaw's pippoglyph playing cards.
I came across Andreas Gefeller yesterday after his mention on thingsmagazine. His work, entitled Supervisions comprises of overhead, birdseye shots, yet they are not one single image. Rather they are made up of hundreds of individual ones. His outdoor work is striking, but it was his shots of rooms, like those above, which really caught my eye.
I have been listening to this the last few days. Wavves - So Bored. Can't beat a fan video can you?
So much for spring. I awoke to snow. I also awoke with a desire to write about Bollywood and organs. A quick read of this wiki page left me well educated about the former, and to be honest all you need to do is listen to a good amount of Bob Dylan to get your fix of the later.
I had always wondered why the dubbing in the extravagant Indian flicks was so off, and subsequently why on earth they didn't do something about it. Oh how the Western World loves to poke fun at the mouths moving frantically with the words a few frames behind. It turns out it was all down to a camera, the Arriflex 3. It required a blimp to be set on it to stop excessive noise on set. "Commercial Indian filmmakers, known for their speed, never bothered to blimp the camera, and its excessive noise required that everything had to be recreated in the studio. Eventually, this became the standard for Indian films." - Thanks wiki
Now that i've fallen somewhat in love with Bollywood I have the Arriflex 3, and of course the poor work ethic of the camera operators to thank. It's well worth wasting a whole evening on youtube watching some clips, however I am a steadfast lover of the old classics, none of this new Bollywood. Stay away from those which are in English. Not knowing what on earth is going on is part of the fun, plus the facial expressions and over the top acting make it pretty obvious who loves who and who hates who.
As for the organs. I just love them. I grew up going to a church that had the full sized one, pipes and all, and while the tunes were as slow as a rock race it was impressive. I awoke with those resonating sounds in my ear. I am not an expert by any means, but sounds wise, one of my all time favourites can be heard in this clip of GoldenCage by The Whitest Boy Alive. The electric organ is one awesome piece of kit.
Have you looked into the eyes of a city worker recently. I have. Glazed. Brimming with fear. They are losing their jobs. It's always been a dog-eat-dog environment, but now more so then ever. I have been looking through Bob London's work this morning, and well it got me thinking about the city. I dare say there will be an exodus. If it were me i'd be getting out. The times they are a changing.
Over the last few months there has been talk about a change in culture. I dismissed it for a while, but this week I've been reading a little more. I think they have a point. Nick Currie is currently writing a few pieces on the death of Post-Modernism, and the birth of 'Altermodern'.
To quote Currie, he argues, "You always need a major event, a global shakedown, to launch a new cultural era. Modernism really comes out of the brutal sweep of the First World War. Postmodernism is a phenomenon of the post-war Baby Boom, the arrival of the teenager, of affluent consumerism, the dominance and hegemony of the US, and new electronic forms of communication. The meltdown of the global financial system we're currently living through is the thing that will definitively end Post-Modernism and make a new cultural era necessary and, in fact, inevitable."
Now to most involved in the debate, this chance of change begins a kerfuffle in their hearts. Me? I would just be happy to see the end of Post-Modernism. I would love to talk to the city slickers. I'd ask them "If you could do anything tomorrow, what would it be?" Interesting, that is the thought which 'If You Could' has adopted. Give them your time today.
Oh to live in an old farm house. Hardwood floors, swept countless times, with the cracks now littered with crumbs, paperclips and dried grass. Crackled white paint on cobwebbed windows. A porch, filled with shoes, umbrellas and coats. A back door, rarely locked, always with a muddy hand print on it's exterior side. A kitchen table, cookies stacked, jam cooling. The wind, whistling through, and the fireplace black as the night, still glowing from the evening before. Your plan for the day is to make sure the barn door gets a new lick of paint, and that old Mickey blue eyes, the oldest of all the goats, is not causing trouble.
The call of the city, your raised haven. Peering over tiny figures, darting around ever darkening sticky streets. A laptop screen beaming out white light in a cosy living room. You step in from your balcony, laundry tangling around your feet. The kitchen is only a couple of well chosen steps away. The fridge rattling, dishes stacked up. You glance at the clock. You've thirty minutes to get ready. What's the plan. Sid's for a few cocktails, then NeonNeon for a boogie and a shake shake.
Debbie Tea's photostream is all you need to look at today. The photos above, Huigenbos, got me thinking about how where we live changes us. I love a good look around an apartment, now I just need to find a site dedicated to farm houses. Keep your eyes peeled.
I used to think getting older meant that I could do all those things I couldn't as a youngster, yet now that I'm older, I find I don't really want to do anything of the sort. It's the things that you neglect as a teenager, that your heart seems to latch onto as a young adult. I appreciate them like never before. Take food for example. At 15/16 it was a necessity, if even that. A substance for that everchanging body, which required some nourishment. Now however it's a delight to sit and eat a good meal. To enjoy all that comes with it. Company. To talk, remark and be educated. To give opinion, take heed and bite your tongue.
One of the most asked questions in boring, non-event interviews is, "Who would your ideal dinner party guests be?" I have never thought of an answer, but I just asked my best friend. This is what I was told:
Dustin Hoffman | Bill Cosby | Kate Winslet | Beck | Sofia Coppola | Special Agent Dale Cooper | Paul Newman | J.D. Salinger
The weather is getting better. Evenings are now to be spent outdoors, and this 'inside' winter mentality is passing. I thought, in celebration of the end of winter, we'd take a look at how beautiful being stuck inside can be. Ian Aleksander Adams' project will do just fine. Goodbye winter, hello spring.