n: vb: the spice of imagination
Ignite, a Puncture Vine CD Cover, painted by Canadian illustrator Robert Carter.
Other personal favourites include, Halo, Crack!, Sgt. Shakespeare, Unraveling Fire (boy), Inner Dialogue, and Black Gold Or Green Earth.
Prints and commissions are available through his website, Cracked Hat.
Found through Thefunnyweb.com, which has a nice collection of his work posted here.
If Only You Were Here
signed and numbered edition of 150
size: 22″x22″ on a 24x”24″sheet – with frame: 28.5″x28.5″x2″
price of unframed: $220 – framed: $450
It will be made available for purchase on July 19th Saturday at 1:00 pm pacific time.
December 3oth, Nicole and I stayed up all night, painting my apartment. Plastering the walls, sanding, priming, coating the baseboards with chocolate coloured latex, re-lining my terribly beige bay windows with white. The plan was to spend all night painting and have dusty magenta up on the longest wall by dawn, but we didn’t quite make it. The crooked walls of my apartment require a lot of patience and an awake, steady hand. We started in the evening, light-checking while there was still the barest edge of sunset in the sky, and packed it in around five, thinking it was better to quit before the sun came back. We only took one break, around three in the morning, to deke out and fetch some food. (On-line, Alastair stayed up too, the dear creature, at his apartment, working the muppet-coat New Year’s card until the music looped properly and we had a working load screen.) There was a lot of laughter, a lot of talking about boys and travel. Plans we’d like to have, places we’d like to see. It was really nice, the best way I’ve ever wrapped up a year.
I had reason to be extra glad how late we stayed up. December 30th here is December 31st in Australia, which means that Mike is five hours behind, but a day ahead. Long-distance, sure, but that’s why calling cards are made. “Happy New Year’s! We’re painting my apartment fuchsia!” It went straight to machine, and I was so tired I couldn’t have told you what message I left, but it made me happy to make the gesture, and that’s really all I need. I went to sleep around seven, smiling, the day already well begun.
found via sheppardzo_14
My apartment is getting a lift. The kitchen has been painted two mellow shades of pumpkin and highlighted with a russet metal gold, the bathroom is going classic with a coffee & cigarettes black and white, and Nicole and I are going to french stripe my living-room in something warm as soon as we find appropriate paint. (Got any?) A scour of Craigslist provided a nice pewter light fixture to replace the brassy nicotine-coloured hanging lamp that’s currently haunting the main room, (Brett will be over to install it tomorrow), and the silk sari that hangs above my bed is getting yanked out and put up in the hallway with white LEDs running behind it, with the blue ones moving to frame Gavin’s self-Portrait of The Artist that hangs across from the couch. I’m really looking forward to the change. And by ‘really’, I mean ‘it’s beyond about damned time’.
Which reminds me: Does anyone want to come along with Nick Eddy and me to Calgary for the first week of December?
It would be nice if he had someone to drive back with. We’re planning on leaving November 30th and arriving December 2st with a stop-over visit at his grandparent’s orchard in Osoyoos. He would be returning Dec 7th while I, (hopefully), continue down to dreaded Edmonton to visit with Ian and Christy.
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1. This is not a love letter. |
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Who, if I screamed, would hear me among the angels? ~ rilke ~ |
We ask how atoms exist, how they create the water that washes our ports of call and hither, how we can split them to see what’s inside, how we can re-arrange them to discontinue the latest brand of sickness, but how often do we consider the tiniest grain of sand as perhaps a piece of emotion? Do we think of the volatile structure when a drop of salt water drops from the eye?
I ask for travel, a pair of stamps added to the inner passport pages. I remind myself that I am standing on the edge of a bridge that I am building myself, shaking dust from my fur to cement the rocks I’ve placed floating upon the waves, and that there is an opposite shore with enough wonder to make this worth it no matter I cannot see it yet, no matter how arduous this seems, this continual collecting of government minted grains in my hair and hands. The results that came back don’t tell me that I will have blisters, instead they say “Your friends will stand by you.”
lafinjack found something enchanting today, beautiful portraits by Andrzej Dragan that look like meticulous paintings.
In return, the flickr this post is a tiny pane that looks into an example of the delightful works of Atticus Wolrab.
as well, odd music: macha loves bedhead – believe
I rediscovered an artist the other day through a boingboing posting and decided that this time around, I simply had to remember to share. His name is Dave Devries and he creates rich realistic paintings based on the scrawled drawings of monsters that children draw. There’s a certain beauty in them that captures a little sense of something ethereal and creepy. It only takes a minute, go give it a look.
In other news, dolphins have taken the next step toward being worshiped as gods by the New Age crowd by carefully crafting situations where they will be found using tools, proof evinced. This is extra good timing on their side, as just this week we’ve learned to breathe underwater as fish do.
However, they have not managed to make the useful as sexy sleek as Tsaya has. They make strap on wallets that look as if they were designed with an everyone-wearing-black mexican stand-off in mind that involves cell phones instead of guns. The idea is to replace the handbag with something you can wear and be active in. A pity, I think, that so far it’s only made of black patent leather, though I’m certain that has it’s own built in market.
Speaking of design, actually, I found that Dream Designs, the place I had my interview at, has a website. I highly recommend giving them a decco if you’re looking for quality fabrics. As part of my interview, I asked what their policy was on corporate consumption and confirmed my suspicion that they’re firm supporters of organic and natural products, a stance that only bolsters the respect I had for the company. I sincerely hope there’s a strong possibility that I get a chance at this. To work what I call ‘a real job’ in a place where my skills fit and I have the opportunity to continue learning, it would be such a gift. Theater became tiresome, too many egos. The networking was an aspect I didn’t mind so much, but the petty things that one had to remind oneself of constantly were wearing. This is a small city. This actress loathes that director who dislikes that actor who won’t work with this costumer who’s dating the first woman mentioned. Reliable employment, full time, is exactly what I want.
I’m feeling a little snow-blind lately. My week has been flurries of shredded newspaper information and I’m finding now that it’s becoming hard to keep track of who has read what into my incruental sacrifices.
Curiosity, does anyone know who this artist is?
