This is a rather serious and pointy looking thing Zac and I made earlier in the week on a whim. It's from the gold-leaf middle section of a large piece of Chinese funeral paper (joss paper). Don't ask me why it took two of us— it was just a sport of spontaneous creation moment; he… Continue reading flower made from Chinese funeral paper and wire
I outlined our biking routes amongst three neighborhoods (click to enlarge) The September weather has been beautiful for biking and walking; sunny and crisp, humidity pretty well gone now. Zac and I did some cycling on Tuesday in the gorgeous sunshine and into the night; from South Park Slope to Ditmas Park (aqua route to Sycamore),… Continue reading Cycling weather
Zac's contribution to the Museum, an excellent specimen of tintype in a pocket-frame I've been enjoying reading Cloud Atlas, by David Mitchell— "Then he asked, had it not been a seismic shock to be uprooted from Papa Song's and transplanted into Boom-Sook's lab? Didn't I miss the world I had been genomed for? I answered, fabricants… Continue reading Snufkin has broken camp
Henry Peters Gray, portrait painter, circa 1850 This and many other antique portraits (two more examples after the jump) live at a tumblr blog called "My Daguerreotype Boyfriend," subtitled Where early photography meets extreme hotness. Lotsa' fun, check it out. (Thanks to John for sharing this on fb.) Johannes Brahms, circa 1853, age 20 Ernest Hemingway, age… Continue reading “My Daguerreotype Boyfriend”
The cigar box's resulting border, its leaf having been painted over at intervals. My front room floor is glittered with tiny fragments of leaf. I decided to give the borders a contrasting stripe look (a la Moorish architecture in Spain, for example) as the whole thing was looking entirely too contemporary with the borders all… Continue reading Intervals, in art and grammar
This afternoon, I killed a painting I did about a year and a half ago. It was on 2 facing panels of a hinged wooden cigar box— a box I wish to use for a new piece. I sanded it, stained it and obliterated the remaining ghost image with a glaze of linseed and oil… Continue reading Art as murder
But "twins" is so much simpler. In the meantime, (before I take better photographs), here is another angle of the Angels, with their fine gauge halos of sterling— not gold. (Note the trepanned skull; place to affix a head of hair to a bisque-built head.)
Left: Machine Number 11: Twins; Right: Machine Number 6: Flightless Angels Art! A sunday spent in air conditioning, making a mess and making a couple of assemblages. The one on the left involves a frame that was sent to me years ago by Beth (The Mad Framer). I cut a small piece of wood for… Continue reading Two new works: Machines Number 6 and 11
This June I returned for a second visit to the McKittrick Hotel for Sleep No More. (It was June when I went last year as well.) I nicked this scrap from the room with the coffin; the coffin was covered in these, but this one (among others) had become detached, and was lying on the… Continue reading Sleep No More
Unintentionally patriotic feet, in tertiary variations on red and blue. A friend recently asked what art I've been working on, and my answer was, sadly, none. I'm feeling a need to do something so I return to the blog—I do enjoy writing. Maybe it will spark something. Independence Day yesterday; a barbecue on a friend’s… Continue reading The fleeting nature of dreams and summer
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 