glass houses

after a long hiatus, i saw the work of an artist that drew me back to this space. it isn't that i don't love writing about art or things i see that are striking, but there are so many of us out there that i hate to add my 2 cents to a sea of pennies, where it just gets lost. sometimes it's better to keep things to yourself.

but some things simply beg to be shared!

los angeles native tom fruin is a brooklyn-based artist who caught my eye with his stained [plexi]glass sculpture.

(i think some people think stained glass is too kitsch to be artistic, but they are benighted and frankly incorrect about this, which fruin easily proves with his work.)

fruin crafts his pieces from found materials including plexi-glas, signs, playing cards, and soda cans.

the piece i saw first was his salvaged plexi-glas water tower in DUMBO, brooklyn.

from the inside.

knowing that his work is made from salvaged materials makes all the difference. maybe you'll find what you need, maybe you won't. here's a hotel sign TF made from found signs:

and a few others that are very worth seeing... all made of salvaged items as well.

a quilt made of found drug bags.

"jacked daniels" -- a bronze cast amid hand-sharpened found bottles

until next time, loveys!


middle march

just some notes—on life + springtime + ivan brunetti, among other things.

i like books, but i recently bought a bird book, which i've never felt moved to do before. i realized there were so many sounds outside these days that i didn't recognize. it's spring, and everything seems new. my plants are growing and the sun comes out and there's enough time and light in the evening, after work, to sit outside and look at the sky. these days the birds wake me up in the mornings.

in other book news, i'm reading hope: a tragedy and really liking it. shalom auslander is one gutsy jewish author. i'm already thinking and daydreaming about what i'll read next—but at the moment, one book is enough. i find myself trying to avoid my computer screen and soak up the spring instead. yesterday i took a walk to the lake and sat there awhile, rather than stay inside, wanting to get out.

i have started to subscribe to the new yorker... what a marvelous publication. and the covers! maira kalman's illustration is on the latest cover, and a bit before that an ivan brunetti drawing. i've never written about brunetti before, but he's one of those wonderfully meticulous graphic artists, on the same aesthetic level as chris ware, who makes pictures that are full of perfect tiny details. have a look.

it's been awhile since i read a graphic novel. brunetti wrote the above tiny volume, cartooning, that i would often find hidden between the larger hardcover graphic novels at the bookshop. it was one of those things where i'd look for it just so i'd know it was still there. i should find it someday and put it on my own bookshelves. here's a sweet interview with brunetti at bookslut.

this was my march note. i can't believe it's been nearly three months since i last left a note here, but that is the way of things, sometimes. feliz primavera! more soon, or at least, once i have more to say.



i love snow. i really do. i love blizzards and cold weather and nobody else seems to. it goes beyond the idea that this is the type of weather we should be having right now—it's that this weather IS the midwest. why begrudge it when you could just be at peace with it? there is no need to ruffle your feathers over snow and cold... after all, it is winter time. in wisconsin. so just be still and embrace the things your home-place gives you.

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my little notes here are few and far between, i know. i think that this space will be evolving in the coming months—to reflect where i am at the moment, and what i'm thinking about. right now it is winter and i am a little short on inspiration, and since i'm not a person who cares to share everything that is on her mind at all times like others of my generation... i think a little silence is all right. don't you?

but i'm still going to carry on about books. to wit: the steven millhauser book of short stories i'm reading right now is pure goodness. nothing like a cuppa and a collection of the most absorbing stories i've read lately to make the hours feel like seconds. seriously, you guys. i think the whole world could benefit from a good short story. and steven millhauser writes such brilliant ones. 

 until next time. and don't worry, because i don't have plans to turn this into one of those confessional, things-i-love blogs. even though some of those are quite nice, on the right day, anyway.—


ring out the old, ring in the new

hello hello, dear readers.

well, another year come and gone. thanks to 2011, i have:

it's been quite a year.
i've been thinking about resolutions and i have a few, but mostly i just want to continue on as i did in 2011. i had such fun and learned much and felt everything—that's all a girl could ask for every year of her life, in my opinion.

here's to an equally if not more  b r i l l i a n t  2012.
a toast to us all, and to the earth, and to a whole new year.

see you on the other side, m'dears.



first off, let me say that i love the jealous curator for picking up on some of the coolest artwork around. never a dull moment over there. in faaact (cue segue!), i was just looking over some of her finds from the past week or so and was introduced to the beautifully threadful work of amanda mccavour.

worlds of gauze and color, where even a whisper of air will set everything dancing. here is what she says about her work:

in my work, i use a sewing machine to create thread drawings and installations by sewing into a fabric that dissolves in water. this fabric makes it possible for me to build up the thread by sewing repeatedly into my drawn images so that when the fabric is dissolved, the image can hold together without a base. these thread images appear as though they would be easily unraveled and seemingly on the verge of falling apart, despite the works' actual raveled strength.

that's a part of her artist's statement, which you can continue reading here. if you would like to know a bit more about mccavour's work, there's a nice interview here. i liked what she said about being attracted to thread via her love of drawing + lines. i think a lot of being an artist is surprising yourself with crazy ideas that you then somehow bring to life. and often, those projects are the most successful and rewarding.

happy tuesday!