Click for full size.
Click for full size.
First up, the most wonderful photographs from kids – the winners of the 2016 Nat Geo International Photography Contest. Stunning imagery, all the way around, and a whole lot of very talented kids. Go See!
Next up:
It’s MIT’s Self-Assembly Lab. Go explore!
Yep, more. Click for full size.
From rq: 1) busstop artwork, for a campaign to build a publicly but not governmentally funded arthouse/gallery, title: Don’t Need War; 2) a street – if you go to the touristy places, things are cleaned up, but this is more typical, plus some cold February sun right down the middle!
Gotta say, I love Don’t Need War! Click for full size.
© rq, all rights reserved.
But it won’t be today, or any time soon, most likely. Avoidance Universe. For these, I used the spray fabric paints I got at Goodwill, and they work a treat. :D Click for full size.
Meltdown Avoidance, bright colours version. This is rather tricky, the injected colour doesn’t stay solid long before it explodes, and it makes focusing difficult, but still…fun. And distracting! Not at my best today, with being patient and stuff, so I’ll revisit this at some other time. I know 3 and 4 seem the same, but they aren’t. 4 is much more fetus-y. :D Click for full size.
I, I am so blown away by these, they are amazing pieces in and of themselves, and the work is so time consuming, the artist can only manage a limited amount per year, around 25. I wouldn’t be able to do one in a year, but I’d certainly love to own one!
Since 2011, Oregon-artist Darryl Cox has been making “Fusion Frames,” sculptural hybrids of picture frames and segments of tree roots. Each piece begins with a search to find a frame that closely matches the reclaimed roots he obtains from manzanita, juniper, and aspen trees, or even from grapevines. The pieces require extensive amounts of woodworking and painting to seamlessly fuse the two objects together, meaning Cox can only produce around 25 or so pieces each year.
Cox will have work on view later this year at the The Art Museum of Greater Lafayette, and he’s now reperesented by the Vickers Collection. You can see more of his recent work on Facebook.
Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a manzanita piece. There’s another of the very few things which can make me homesick. Via Colossal Art.
Absolutely stunning wave photography. Few things make me homesick, but these do. I miss the ocean so very much.
You can see more (and buy!) on his website, and there’s also his Instagram and Facebook.
Via Colossal Art.
The Scream shows Indigenous children being taken away from their families by the Catholic church. (Courtesy of Kent Monkman).
There’s a good article up about Canada 150 and whether or not Indigenous artists chose to participate. For some, it was an opportunity to get a sharp point of view home, and for others, it was nothing more than a celebration of colonialism and genocide, especially given how Indigenous people continue to be treated across Canada.
As Canada 150 celebrations extol the glory of Canada’s past and present, one group of artists is not so quick to join the party. Indigenous artists view the sesquicentennial with mixed feelings, with some using it as a platform to tell their peoples’ side of the story, and others opting to boycott the celebrations altogether.
“People come out and want to hear all these stories about Canada, and sometimes they don’t want to take the bad with the good,” says Vancouver-based playwright and composer Corey Payette, whose new musical, Children of God, tells the story of Cree children in residential schools. […] “For me it’s about educating non-Indigenous people, educating mainstream audiences, on what would this have been like if this had been your child? What would that have done to your family and the future of their children and the intergenerational trauma of that?”
But photographer Nadya Kwandibens feels the only right way to respond to Canada 150 is to boycott it.
“The way I see it is, these celebrations are a celebration of colonialism and, as an Indigenous person, I’m choosing not to celebrate colonialism,” said Kwandibens in an interview with CBC News from her home on Animakee Wa Zhing First Nation in northwestern Ontario. Her photos are positive, empowering images of young Aboriginal professionals thriving in urban centres and of elders teaching children. But Kwandibens doesn’t want to see them used in the context of Canada 150.
The Full story is here.
In a conversation, knipling came up, which is a type of lace making. I am, and always have been, in awe of people who can make lace, regardless of technique. It’s one of those skills which elude me. Charly was kind enough to send me a photo of one of his mother’s pieces, which is gorgeous! Definitely click for full size. Charly explains: My mother is skilled at knipling, but she was never that good at making non-abstract designs. I am the opposite – I can make realistic designs, but not abstract ones. So sometimes when she has an idea for something that should resemble reality, she employs my skill. This knipled black swan design I drew for her a few years back from a picture she found on the internet. She then made the actual lace and framed it as a picture.
A beautiful example of art collaboration.
Here’s a bit on knipling, and all I can think is what a mess of it I would make:
Amazing, wonderful work!
In January of 2016, artist Windy Chien devoted herself to learning a new knot every day for a year, tying a total of 366 by December 31st (2016 was a leap year). Although 366 knots might seem like a staggering number, it is nothing compared to the 3,900 included in Chien’s go-to knot manual—The Ashley Book of Knots, which took its author nearly 11 years to compile.
There is just so much to see! Via Wired. * Windy Chien’s Website. * Windy Chien’s Instagram.
Japanese artist Ayumi Shibata uses traditional methods of Japanese paper cutting to create miniature cities within vessels of glass. Her chosen materials reference the delicate relationship humans have with our environment and natural forces of our world, while also relating to the Japanese translation of “paper.” In Japanese, the word for “paper” is “Kami,” which can also mean “god,” “divinity,” or “spirit.” Kami are omnipresent in the Shinto religion, and reside in the sky, ground, trees, and rocks.
“Kami move freely beyond time, universe and places, appearing during events, as well as in our houses and our bodies,” said Shibata on her website. “These spirits also dwell in paper. In the religion of Shinto, white paper is considered a sacred material.”
Using this charged material, Shibata attempts to construct a sculptural dialogue about how we relate and respond to our natural world.
Beautiful and mindful work here. You can see and read more at Colossal.
Watch. Just watch.
Via Films for Action.