you are the daughter of the sea
You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin.
Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;
cook, your blood is quick as the soil.
Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.
Your eyes go out toward the water, and the waves rise;
your hands go out to the earth and the seeds swell;
you know the deep essence of water and the earth,
conjoined in you like a formula for clay.
Naiad: cut your body into turquoise pieces,
they will bloom resurrected in the kitchen.
This is how you become everything that lives.
And so at last, you sleep, in the circle of my arms
that push back the shadows so that you can rest--
vegetables, seaweed, herbs: the foam of your dreams.
Pablo Neruda
Image of a sea twig from here.
surfaces
Celmins's intense monochromatic images, based on photographs, focus on small and individual marks in the context of vastness. The images seem fragile because they record a specific human glimpse through a telescope or camera which is frozen in time. Celmins's serial exploration of her subjects, including ocean surfaces, allows the artist to exploit the distinct characteristics of the variety of media she uses. Celmins worked on this wood engraving for a number of years, beginning in 1995. She used an engraving tool rather than a knife to make detailed incisions which produce a variety of markings on the paper, from deep black to the white surface of the waves.
Above: Ocean, 2000. Wood engraving on paper, 21x26cm.
Below: Ocean, 1975. Lithograph on paper, 31.7x42cm.
sea change
Sea-change or seachange is a poetic or informal term meaning a gradual transformation in which the form is retained but the substance is replaced, as with petrification. The expression is Shakespeare's, taken from the song in The Tempest, when Ariel sings:
Full fathom five thy father lies;Per Wikipedia. Image from Jon Estward's Flickr.
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
this weekend
Watch out for sirens. Additionally:
- found footage
- monumental ideas in miniature books (@ the Morgan)
- heaven's my destination
- the ceremony
- sunday brunch
Image from here.
imaginary outfit for arranging imaginary flowers in my imaginary house in san francisco
I've never been to San Francisco - never even been to California - so it's perfect territory for imaginations and projections of all sorts. No unkind realism need bother to intrude. Today I'm imagining a careless, graceful life, the kind of life where you have large airy rooms full of carefully chosen things, in the kind of house where you always find fresh flowers on tables in hallways and dishes of cutup pineapple in the refrigerator.
Luxury.
key ring
Rivy Ng key master. The daily chore of finding my keys would be a pleasure if they were attached to one of these.
this weekend
We've been doing a lot of traveling lately - none by balloon, though. I need to look into that.
Things to do:
It's a full slate. Happy weekend.
Image from the Cluster Balloon Flight Page.
imaginary outfit: brunch in boston
It's been a while since we had one of these. I thought it was about time.
This weekend, Sean and I are driving to Boston for a family jamboree. Boston is not one of our favorite cities - for whatever reason, we just don't click. It's like meeting someone at a party and finding out that you both have good friends in common, but after a few minutes of awkward chitchat, you're staring at your wine glass and thinking of ways to make a break for the bowl of Cheez-Its across the room.
Fortunately, Boston has a number of our favorite people (and the ten hour drive is perfect for listening to new music). We'll get to hang out with our niece and nephew, and we are meeting new friends for brunch. I'm excited about this because not only are the people we are meeting rad, the place we are going to has some sort of delightful thing called 'spoon fruits'. I'm assuming this is a particularly wonderful sort of jam, and I can't wait.
This ensemble is what I'd wear to eat the spoon fruits amongst the Bostonians. If they are tasty enough, maybe we'll be friends with Boston after all.
this weekend
I will be remembering last weekend and consoling myself with:
Happy weekend.
musée du quai branly
Inside looking out (the windows in that portion of the building are covered with green film that mimics the foliage):
musée d'orsay
The view of Sacré Couer from behind the clock in the Musée d'Orsay.
I tend to roll my eyes a little bit at the French Impressionists - too many waterlilies and ballerinas endlessly reproduced on so many posters in so many waiting rooms, on innumerable PBS totebags and museum shop scarves. It's always a bit of a shock to see originals in person and remember they are actually pretty kickass.
Degas particularly is poorly served by reproductions, I think. This ballerina's skirt has about seven different shades of blue in it, like a living butterfly wing, and her tights are almost a shocking pink. It is ravishing.
I took about ten pictures trying to capture that blue and pink. Nothing doing.
The musuem's collections only span from 1848 to 1915, and it's mostly French art, but the absolute plenty of gorgeous things bends your brain a little. They have five (FIVE) of Monet's cathedrals - lined up on the wall, it's a bit like impressionism meets Warhol.
We thought these two looked like they could have stepped right off the street today. Both were painted around 1890.
After all that art, we had to refuel, so we stopped in the museum café for $6 coffees and Sean was especially taken with the waiters' aprons - they came equipped with a special pocket for ties:
the louvre
I could probably spend a month in Paris going to the Louvre every day (I'm a little sick like that).
Some of my favorite parts (besides the Winged Victory):
Crowds of art paparazzi (this is the crew around the Mona Lisa on a Monday at 11:30 in the morning):
Little peeks into storage rooms, with the extra treasures draped in plastic sheeting:
Pocket spheres for worldly travelers of the 1800s:
Very old Roman perfume flasks that reminded me of Toikka birds:
Fierce looking Danish children:
Rembrandt foreshadowing Francis Bacon:
Red-headed art lovers:
galerie de l'atelier brancusi
Photos from the Galerie de l'Atelier Brancusi, a reconstruction of Brancusi's Paris workshop. We stumbled across it after we left the Pompidou, and it ended up being one of my favorite places.
It was like looking at an alternate universe's organic forms, strange in their austere jumble.
The tools were the best part.
