i would show you off like a trophy

I've got the itch: I want some new clothes! In order to save our bank account now and in the future, I decided to get back into the habit of altering clothes and making my own stuff-- first stop: cyanotypes! Following this tutorial, I hope to print something like the things above on some scarves or maybe even a T-shirt if I decide to make my own. 

Something else: there's this new book you can win on Design*Sponge and it's filled with nature drawings like the one above (right). Enjoy!

If you've never tried making a cyanotype yourself, give it a shot! It's always a blast.

the state I am in

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am perpetually nervous about the significant influence my scientific studies have on my art. As a firm believer that natural phenomena are beautiful in their own right, I struggle with how often I appropriate these naturally arresting images.. and yet I'm continually drawn to them as aids in dissecting less concrete phenotypes. Relationships seen in nature can be immensely useful, insightful, and powerful. I seek to harness those qualities, adding to the inherent beauty and progressing toward greater understanding.

Currently, I'm obsessed with chick embryos in culture

Image taken from Rita Levi-Montalcini's nobel lecture.

the night plays games

Like everyone else nearing the end of something, nearing a deadline, nearing an important date, nearing a big move-- I'm struggling.

In my work I am struggling with the boundary between too personal and not personal enough, with the difference between telling a story and trying to relate a specific set of events, and with trying to dig through my personal experiences and find those things that are relatable and interesting.. I'm trying to find a story in my own, ongoing narrative.
It feels futile, like writing a book about the Cold War in 1980. 

But Amy Casey does these things well. She took a recurring dream and has managed to pull years of quality work out of it. Not only that, but I actually like these pieces: the feel, the tension, the hesitation, the fear, the confidence. They're quietly beautiful.

This is personal done right. 

 

Damnit.

Don't ask for the water.

Anna Betts

I really like these pieces.

I love that this is "student work", that they're so simple, so quiet, and so bold. They're really just so... everything-that's-good-about-Etsy. 

 The same woman who makes these tiles also happens to be my new favorite blogger and etsy shop, so check it out!

Sh-Boom

Sarah Morris

I like this.

and this.

and this.

and this.

Meanwhile, I'm making this:

It seems anti-climactic... but I'm starting to think that it's not. I've always loved line, pattern, repetition, and anything that confuses the eye (or, more accurately, the brain). I'm interested in the difference between what exists and what we perceive-- and the differences between the collective "we see" and the individual "I see". One could argue that these differences are easiest to discuss through op art but I think it trickles down through the styles and is important to each individual viewing experience, regardless of genre. As an artist, I recognize people's differences in perception and I'm acutely aware that I view the world through a different filter than everyone and anyone else. I desire to communicate visually with others both because of and in spite of these differences. 

These pieces remind me of this struggle and remind me of these ideas more acutely than a lot of other work and this reminder enriches my other viewing experiences.

Brown Sugar

Melanie Bilenker

picture taken from The Jealous Curator 

She uses her hair to capture and create moments in jewelry, Victorian style.

(Roughly) in her own words:

The Victorians used ground hair and pigment to secure the memory of a lost love. "In much the same way, I secure my memories through photographic images rendered in lines of my own hair, the physical remnants"

I love these. They're intimate, precious, careful, well-crafted, and beautiful.

All I want is you

Emily Eveleth

It's no secret that I love doughnuts. I blame it on watching too much Twin Peaks.

I also happen to be continually mesmerized by fat and the body. It's malfunctions and disfunctions and proper function. As a scientist, I've dedicated my life to figuring out how things work and how we work on a microscopic level but this obsession has made me prone to romanticism of the body as a whole. 

 When the complexity of something small like a cell is so overwhelming, it's hard to comprehend an entire body working, short of magic. For me, these paintings capture that magic and question the relationship between our bodies and what we put in them.

To me, the body is gross and gorgeous. What we do to it and feed it is equally gross and gorgeous. Gross and gorgeous is really my thing. and it appears to be Emily Eveleth's thing, too.

Boom boom

Amanda Mccavour

I am overwhelmed

She sews into fabric that dissolves in water, leaving just the threads behind, (re)creating a living room and hung from the ceiling. Wow.

I've been thinking about the hidden, the missing, and the things left behind lately and this is a perfect example. Enjoy!

more can be seen here // I found her through poppytalk

Wait

Narrative is so important in a body of work. I've been in "making" mode lately and instead of inundating myself with images of artists online, I've focused on stories. Reading a good book or story or resonating quote pushes my desire to make and helps me forget my desire to stop. think. rewind. rethink.

 Dostoevsky's Notes from the Underground.
I've read it what seems to be one thousand times. It's my go-to book and something that continually invigorates me as a "maker".
 

"Twice two's four watches smugly, stands in the middle of your road with his arms akimbo, and spits. I agree that twice two's four is a marvellous thing; but to give everything its due praise, twice two is five can also be a very nice little thing." -Dostoevsky

Currently, I'm reading two fantastic stories (really):

 

Is there anything to say about these? I'm not sure. 

Nice day for a

After a month of solid wedding planning that I refuse to bore my few readers with, I am back. I bring you, Michelle Ramin.

I'll admit it. I'm a little infatuated with her figurative and architectural works. 

Patterns. Realism. Familiarity. More patterns. And detailed line work. 

I like their feel. I both like and dislike that it's art I'd put in a house. I like what's missing and I like what's given. They remind me of every street I've ever seen, the way they seemed in memory, the way my house is purple in my head but in reality it's a pale purplish hue.

They're frozen and in motion, colorful and not overwhelming, detailed and sparse. Enjoy.