Living in New York is a funny thing; in my six years here, I’ve become quite accustomed to living in ways that I never really imagined while growing up in Iowa. While I might have once casually scarfed a sandwich in the relative privacy of my car, living in New York affords no such luxuries: I eat my pizza on the street, Liz Lemon-style. It may be messy, but it just feels good, and where else am I going to go?! Just as my body is now my packhorse — there’s a reason I carry a big ass bag! — living in public has become a way of life.

Love for my city washed over me after watching Etsy’s profile of artist Sophie Blackall, most well known for her Missed Connections series of illustrations. Trawling Craigslist can be a sordid thing, but there are some tender moments to be found; the New York City subway system makes up most of the “Did you see me?” ads posted daily. While some may be seeking the one who got away, I just enjoy taking in the scenery. It’s still crazy to me that people from every walk of life come together, converse, and stand armpit-to-nose every day, while still managing to provide one another with a level of civility and concern that isn’t often attributed to a city this diverse and large.

In short: I love New York. Consider this a valentine to my adopted city.

Doris Caesar, American sculptor, 1892-1971, in her studio.

Can you believe these portraits are from the ’20s? Man Ray was definitely ahead of his time — and it doesn’t hurt that his subjects were the most avant garde artists, poets, writers and thinkers in the city. Oh, Paris in the ’20s…I can only imagine. (And I still haven’t seen that Woody Allen movie! On my list.)

[Via Mondo Blogo]

With a title like In the Beginning It Was Humid, how could this book be bad?

All humidity talk aside, Bastien Aubry and Dimitri Broquard’s collaborative art book finds inspiration in outsider art, handicrafts and ceramics — all subjects I can’t get enough of, obviously. Gotta pick up a copy of this book.

[Via]

Oh, to be able to paint such ghostly abstracts! If I were an artist, I’d study at the school of Stef Driesen.  [Via]

Designer David Hanauer finds beauty in the aerial abstraction of Google Maps — specifically, the urban morass of Los Angeles and Las Vegas. Not content to merely soak in overhead shots of pools and freeways, Hanauer began creating collaged patterns that quickly transitioned into carpets. What a novel concept! These beautiful rugs are available for purchase on his website.

[Via Flavorwire]

I first came across Kara Gunter’s smoke-fired ceramic eggs on Etsy. Intrigued by the premise, I looked up her website and the art project where the eggs originated, entitled “Trial by Fire.” I was not disappointed: the salt, smoke and ceramics are like candy to me! Kara’s artistic statement explains her motivations:

According to fire ecology — the study of fire and its relationship to living organisms — fire is a necessity for propagation. Certain plant life has evolved to depend on fire as a means to clear out the old and dying so new life can take hold. Seeds are split open by the heat, and the ground is fertile with ash.

Trial by Fire explores themes of devastation followed by the cycle of rebirth. Referenced are eggs, seeds and cast away skins, all signs that the metamorphosis has begun. Salt, also attributed with purifying and preservation, suspends the moment of purity in time, holding the cycle’s completion in stasis.

The majority of the work created for Trial by Fire, utilizes fire in some way in its fabrication. Clay must be exposed to extreme heat to become vitreous. Furthermore, clay work has been stained with fire and smoke in the smoke-firing process. Paper and wood have been blistered and scorched with fire.

So beautiful. Many of the pieces are now for sale on Etsy.

I’m majorly digging on the work of Jakko Pallasvuo. Beautiful paintings.

[Via]

I’m excited to present my friend Mickey Duzyj’s latest comic. Mickey’s interest in the race track, eccentric figures, and the lives of losers and misfits often crosses over into his work, and “Miss Chris” is no exception. This mystery minicomic tells the story of a chain-smoking, cross-dressing bartender with a dark past who works the bar at the local racetrack. Does a life of decadence conceal a monstrous injury, or can Miss Chris prove that his ugliness is only skin-deep?

And this is just the beginning. This story is the first of a longer series of stories about the racetrack, where more characters who work and hang out there will be revealed. Trolls in place of jockeys? Opium-addicted horses? I can’t wait.

I’ve fallen deep into a Gauguin black hole, which led me to this photo recreation of his famous “Spirit of the Dead Watching.” And yep, that’s Naomi Campbell, circa 1992. Beautiful.

[Via]

If you’re not familiar with Pictory Magazine, you should be. (Pictory = picture + story) This collection of curated galleries and stories document love, loss, family, travel, and our lives and culture in big, gorgeous photos. Anyone can submit a photo story on the continually changing social documentary themes, then the best work from the community is curated into polished photo essays.

I was recently part of the curation process — on behalf of Etsy — for a collaborative project with Pictory on the subject of “handmade” and the art of craftsmanship. The virtual gallery is now live. Here a few of the winning entries to whet your appetite. Beautiful stuff.

Watercraft by Heather Perry

Carefully, methodically, and very precisely, Buster Prout of Bowdoinham, Maine, constructs a gunning float, a boat used for hunting duck. This model is specific to Merrymeeting Bay. Buster Prout is the last of the bay’s gunning float builders, and for each full size boat he crafts, he creates a precise and tiny model, exactly 1/8th scale. He is a gentle man, with an artist’s hand. They are elegant crafts, and a good sculler can move the float through the rushes silently, and sneak right up on the birds. At best, a hunter might bag a limit. At worst, one spends a day in a remarkable place, in this handmade, remarkable boat.

What Lives in the Body by Meera Sethi

Once a week for two years, I have sat down at a table in a natural history museum, picked up a scalpel and a pair of tweezers, and—gently, carefully, meditatively—created a study skin out of a bird, or two, or three, that has been killed by its unsuspecting flight into a window of a skyscraper. On this day I prepared a Wilson’s flycatcher (a slight, somewhat unprepossessing bird notable for being new to me and for turning out well despite being incredibly small), a Savannah sparrow, and a Gray-cheeked thrush. They were all good to me; no one’s skin tore, no one’s wings sat crookedly. It was quiet, without even the radio on to disturb the hush, and there were no visitors all day. I felt restored when I left.

Fur Trade by Harriet Andronikides

For the past 40 years, my father has been working as a furrier in the Garment District in New York City. This neighborhood was once the heart of the fur industry, thriving with craftsman from all backgrounds and nationalities. However in the past decade, the craft of making fur coats and accessories has vanished, leaving my father as one of the last few artisans left in the Fur District. The sewing machinery, tools, and collection of coats themselves are a beautiful example of American craftsmanship.

I am so addicted to the ’80s Art tumblr. Kenny Scharf, geometric, colorful goodness.

This cat’s expression says it all. In this case, “all” meaning “let’s get manicures and eat olives and maybe root through a dumpster afterward.”

[Via Atlantic Treefox]

Long before I was a cat lady, I was a dog person. And I still am. I grew up with dogs, I empathize with dogs: I love dogs so strongly and deeply that some people can’t understand it. But I do. I’d do anything to save one, to rescue one from an abusive owner or to make sure that it was safe and well-fed. In fact, I can’t even read or watch even the most casual story about animal cruelty because it upsets me so, so much.

And that’s where Martin Usborne’s “MUTE: The Silence of Dogs in Cars” comes in. Far from portraying abusive situations, he wished to observe the emotions that dogs feel upon being left in the car. An hour or a minute, the dog has no idea when its beloved owner is returning, and this brings out a lot of potential angst, insecurity, sadness and anger. I was really moved by the results (especially knowing that these were fictional situations). Here he explains the thoughts behind his project.

I was once left in a car at a young age.

I don’t know when or where or for how long, probably for fifteen minutes only. The details don’t matter.  The point is that I wondered if anyone would come back. It seems trivial now, but in a child’s mind it is possible to be alone forever.

Around the same age I began to feel a deep affinity with animals — in particular their plight at the hands of humans. I remember watching TV and seeing footage of a dog being put in a plastic bag and being kicked. What appalled me most was that the dog could not speak back. Its muteness terrified me.

The images in this series explore that feeling, both in relation to myself and to animals in general. The camera is the perfect tool for capturing a sense of silence and longing: the shutter freezes the subject for ever. The dog is truly trapped.

When I started this project I knew the photos would be dark. What I didn’t expect was to see so many subtle reactions by the dogs: some sad, some expectant, some angry, some dejected. It was as if upon opening up a box of grey-coloured pencils I was surprised to see so many shades inside.

[Sent to me by my lovely friend Diana.]

I’ve had the tattoo itch as of late…it might be time to finally commit to my all-seeing eye tattoo. Or antique lace. Or…so many other things!

Looking at all of the evenly spaced tattoos on Liam’s chest — inked there by the talented Thomas Hooper — makes me realize how much more I like the spaced strategy (vs. having sleeves). It’s so much more traditional…you never see old men with full sleeves: just one or two on the bicep or forearm, Popeye style. I can dig.

[Via]

Illustrator and ceramicist Laura Carlin just slays me. The simplicity of the bowls, with the patterns and glazes — you would be sickened by the contented noises I’m making right now. Clucking, I am.

When I first came across photographer Katy Grannan‘s work, I was immediately struck by the sadness of her subjects. Grannan has spent the last few years wandering the streets of Los Angeles and San Francisco, seeking out subjects for whom life has been hard and despair has been plenty. These stark portraits make up her recent body of work, Boulevard. In an interview with Daily Serving, she says:

I definitely did not want the series to be a parade of despair, nor am I interested in smiley happy people (family photo albums are already filled with those pictures – this has always irritated me). Each one of these photographs is like a short story and part of that narrative, of course, is the part where they’re working with me to make a photograph on the spot, right after we’ve met. The dynamic is different every time, but it’s almost always a lot of fun. People really get into it, and it requires a generosity and openness to be part of this process, to dance on the sidewalk in front of traffic, to wave at strangers honking. And I love the spirit of someone like the eighty year old woman who still wears bright lipstick and eyeliner – she deserves to feel gorgeous, and she is. Or the eighty year old man that handed me his business card that read ‘International Playboy.’ These are the people I want to know better. But of course, all of our histories are complex – there is disappointment, shame, loneliness, and there’s also joy. I want all of it to exist, messily and awkwardly, in the photographs. Because that’s life.

And isn’t that what all existence is? Messy. Awkward. Optimistic.

[Via]

Julia Sherman‘s performance, photography and video art pieces are provocative and cross tons of genres. (I’m a huge fan of her long-form piece investigative piece on handmade wigs for Orthodox, Hasidic and African-American women, ”She Goes Covered.“)

This beautifully captured performance piece, entitled Mother of All, is explained as such:

“In the Kabbalah it says that unmarried women are forbidden to spin under the moonlight, as it is seen as a brazen display of one’s sexual potential. In the piece, there is an emphasis on the rhythmic, hypnotic motion of the spinning wheel and the movement of the body.”

I live vicariously through Grass Doe’s beautiful, outdoorsy photos. I need a vacation, bad.

“Time ticks by; we grow older. Before we know it, too much time has passed and we’ve missed the chance to have had other people hurt us. To a younger me this sounded like luck; to an older me this sounds like a quiet tragedy.”

“…And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can’t ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it’s already happened. “ — Douglas Coupland’s Life After God

Photos by Andrew Miksys.

[Via]

I think I could live with any paint color on my walls if it was peeling (even cream or mustard yellow, and that’s saying a lot for me). Decay means that a building has been aged like a wizened, stinky cheese — my favorite. Here’s to rooms that show their years.

Photos by Venetian Bird

Heidi Norton’s soapy, encaustic paintings and sculptures bring out my urge to gnaw. Just a bite!

[Via]

Sara Naim‘s work translates sound into photography — in this case, Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” vibrating through a pool of milk. Interesting fact: Beethoven composed “Moonlight Sonata” for his blind pupil and lover, Giuletta Gucciardi, after she wished she could see the moonlight. It was inspired by the moon’s reflection off Austria’s Lake Lucerne.

Listen to the sonata here.

[Via]

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I just discovered that Roberta’s is more than pizza. In this case, “more” means exotic, gooey seafood artfully arranged on pristine white plates. Never mind that I don’t even know what food is shown in the last picture. I’m just know that I want to eat it, based on these photos.

And that caviar? Killing me softly. If it tastes as good as it looks (I’m kind of a seafood noob), I’m a goner.

If I could, I’d fill my apartment to the ceiling with original art, especially paintings. (No offense to art prints, but I’m just not into ‘em.) The blobby kitties on horses, mystical clowns and abstract landscapes created on Allison Schulnik’s thickly textured canvases are number one on my wish list.

And I think “thick” is one of my favorite words.

The stillness of Glen Erler‘s work moves me. Who needs fireworks when a loop of string in a patch of silent sunlight can be so utterly captivating? It reminded me of a Billy Collins poem on silence.

Now it is time to say what you have to say.
The room is quiet.
The whirring fan has been unplugged,
and the girl who was tapping
a pencil on her desktop has been removed.

So tell us what is on your mind.
We want to hear the sound of your foliage,
the unraveling of your tool kit,
your songs of loneliness,
your songs of hurt.

The trains are motionless on the tracks,
the ships are at restn the harbor.
The dogs are cocking their heads
and the gods are peering down from their balloons.
The town is hushed,

and everyone here has a copy.
So tell us about your parents—
your father behind the steering wheel,
your cruel mother at the sink.
Let’s hear about all the clouds you saw, all the trees.

Read the poem you brought with you tonight.
The ocean has stopped sloshing around,
and even Beethoven
is sitting up in his deathbed,
his cold hearing horn inserted in one ear.

[Via]

Google Street View is a bit of a habit, perpetual voyeur that I am. I’ll often check in to see if the street view of my old apartment building still shows my elderly neighbor sunbathing topless on the sidewalk, or if the fried chicken place I once frequented still exists. However, the 9 Eyes of Google Street View is a bit more pithy than my casual nudity check-ins. This collection of seemingly random Google street images catalogs the beautiful, the weird and the sad: pregnant horses crossing a meadow, robberies, laughing children, cars on fire, prostitutes listlessly walking the side of a deserted highway, aliens and the glory of one man’s euphoric gesture. I highly recommend checking it out.

[Originally posted on the Etsy Blog. Read it!]

Here I am in Iowa, sixteen inches of snow on the ground and a self-proclaimed blawggin’ hiatus currently underway…but I just couldn’t stay off the internet. Nope, addicted.  Then I saw this glorious felt and fur wall hanging by Modern Fiber Lab and I just had to share. It’s like a matted pelt! (My favorite.) If I was loaded, this would be in my living room right this second.

Back to hiatus, and happy Christmas!

[Via Shavingkit's sumptuous Treasury]