Showing posts with label rainbow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rainbow. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Rainbow House in a Very Good Spot

I love this house which is very well placed across the street from Westboro Baptist Church. From Amy of Amy's Organics.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Crocheted Fences and Yarn Bombing

Did it begin with Sagmeister and his statement fences? The Dutch Design House Demakersvan? Or have some chics in Oakland and Vancouver been at it all along? Whoever got this wonderful ball of yarn rolling, don't stop. Check out the book and site Yarn Bombing for a lovely collection and up to date bombings.













Thursday, November 4, 2010

My Friend Janice Floats

Janice Kelly, a friend who combines wit, taste and charm like no one I've ever met, has just launched a wonderful business that will make you smile. She designs and installs giggley giant balloon sculptures. Dale Chihuly with a really big smirk. To see more of her designs and to contact her go here.






























Friday, April 16, 2010

Japanese Rainbow for Friday

Japanese artist Aki, an FIT grad based in NY, has two etsy shops well worth the stop. For her bags in a rainbow of colors and patterns go here. And the lucky you shopping for a baby go here.


Thursday, April 15, 2010

The Grownup Side of the Rainbow

The site colourlovers is a fun resource for looking at palettes in a fresh way. Great place to go for.. I never thought of that. They ask readers to interpret and submit versions of color combos. Here are samples of the rainbows colourlovers came up with. I have to admit I'm loving the ones that titles give you as much of a smile as the hues. Mature Clown? To see them all go here.













Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Artist Interview with Chris Cobb by Suzanne Kleid



Recently my daughter, Hillary, a professional organizer spent 8 (yes 8 hours) going through my books shelves, cleaning and aligning them to be more user friendly and beautiful. I am a lucky mum. For a year I've been toying with the idea of taking each book from the shelf, considering it's worthiness for my collection, donating or keeping it. If I keep it then it gets covered with white paper and labeled with it's contents. Wouldn't that be beautiful? My books would bring such light to the room. Maybe I just need a team of 15 friends to do it with me some night. Volunteers? You know I'm not kidding. In researching this rainbow aesthetic I see so often in art, design, and decorating I came across something on the McSweeney site that I'd like to share. I'm a huge fan of McSweeney anything. And this interview with Chris Cobb by Suzanne Kleid is really worth a look. He rearranged a whole bookstore by color. And of course, being the wish it was all perfect, but not really, virgo that I am, the name of his project, I fell in love with.


 










There Is Nothing Wrong in This Whole Wide World.


AN INTERVIEW WITH CHRIS COBB
ON GLUE-STICK STATUARY, SPEAKING TO MASHED POTATOES, AND REARRANGING 20,000 BOOKS BY COLOR.

-SUZANNE KLEID

Q: When did you originally think of the idea for this? What made you decide to do what you're going to do?
A: I wanted to make something that I didn't think would exist anywhere, and that nobody would ever make, that I couldn't go anywhere in the world and see it.
Q: And tell us what it is that you're going to be making.
A: Well, I was thinking a lot about places I've been inside dreams, where I'm familiar with a building or a room, or like when I'm in a house in a dream and there are combinations of things in the house that don't exist in reality. So I wanted to do this project, where I have a giant bookstore full of books, and instead of them all being organized normally, they'll all be organized in rows of color. Through some kind of herculean task, some kind of massive effort, to change the entire space into something that you would see in a dream.
Q: So you are going to actually be doing this, you're going to be rearranging every book on the shelves in this bookstore.
A: Yeah, I had originally thought that I could do it by myself. A friend of mine owns a bookstore and after a year of negotiating back and forth he finally allowed me to take over his store for a week, and to allow me to bring in my whole team of like 15 people, which is what I estimate it'll take, maybe 20, and in one night—I've planned it out—if we stick to the guidelines, we can completely change the store. With Andrew [McKinley, the owner of Adobe Bookshop], it took a year of me being around and gaining his trust before I could get to this point, where he would allow this to happen.
Q: Which is pretty crazy, when you think about it.
A: Or inspired. One person's crazy is another person's inspiration.
Q: So you think you can do this all in one night? How are you going to do it?
A: I'm really grateful for the fact that when the bookstore was organized, all of the shelves along the walls are exactly the same. I think there's seven shelves in every unit. So you can estimate the number of books pretty accurately. It's around 20,000 books. Because of how they're positioned, I can map them out and give coordinates for every book. It'll be, like, shelf 3, row 1. Each book will be given its own designation, so that after they're all taken out and rearranged by color, when it comes time to put them back I can just go back to shelf 3, row 1, or whatever, and I'll know exactly where they go.
Q: Because it's a piece of public art and because you're just rearranging books, there isn't a thing you're producing that can be sold, you know? You're doing this incredibly complex, time-consuming thing and it's only going to exist just to look nice.
A: Well, there are elements of the sublime and elements of beauty involved here that do more than "look nice." The fact that it's something you wouldn't see anywhere has the potential to make it a transgressive experience for some people. People who can appreciate imaginary things or imaginary places, and the power that those places have. Also, there's a lot about ceremony, I think, and ritual. Ritualistic acts. In some Native American cultures, if you make something, you have to then sleep with it next to you overnight, so that the object is transformed through your dreaming. Then it has this special power that it wouldn't normally have, and this is kind of like that same place, maybe.
Q: Because you're going to be transforming the bookstore overnight, right? You and the team are going to go in after closing, and by the time the store opens the next day it's all going to be changed.
A: Yeah, exactly. It'll be like in a dream. One day it'll be like how it is, and the next day when the store opens it'll be completely transformed.
Q: Your art in the past has been made out of materials that you wouldn't normally associate with art. You're working with books this time, but in the past you've made sculptures out of glue sticks and you've made sculptures out of mashed potato. What else have you done?
A: Napkins. Torn-up napkins. Recordings of streets.
Q: With the glue sticks, you carved them into copies of Greek sculptures, correct?
A: Yeah, there's the Laocoön and the Nike of Samothrace, and Roman and Greek votive sculptures that I made in glue stick.
Q: You made faces out of the mashed potato.
A: Yeah, I had some mashed potatoes with garlic and peppers in it that I was making, and I thought I saw a face, or a potential face. I started playing with my food—I've always played with my food, I like to play with food—and I started to think, well, maybe I could make these mashed potatoes into sculpture. So I did. The things that came out of that idea were that maybe the mashed potatoes are talking to me, you know? And if they were talking to me they'd have to have a face. Those are called "Oracle." If you saw a face emerge out of your mashed potatoes, of course it would have to say something really incredible to you. Probably like foretell your future or your past. Tell your fortune. (softly) I don't know—I shouldn't talk about the Red Alert thing, huh?
Q: Why not?
A: It might sound too crazy.
Q: No.
A: OK. So, with another recent project, I was thinking about what chaos I could create just by using the color red. I looked around town and I realized that there are red curbs all over the city. I wondered, what would happen if I extended the red curbs and made them go down a whole block or a whole street? Where normally you could park, but instead I covered it all in red? Then you couldn't park. It symbolically extended the authority of the police, quietly. One night, I went out and covered up the curb, down one whole block, so it was all red. I took a photograph first, when the cars were parked there, and the morning after putting the red on the curb, I took another photo showing that the cars weren't parking there anymore. Just that little bit of red changed the whole order of the block.
Q: And it was red tape, which is symbolic also.
A: Yeah, if you painted it red you'd probably go to jail, but I felt I could get away with using the red tape. And it's also a silly metaphor for bureaucracy.
Q: How long was it there?
A: Two weeks.
Q: And nobody noticed that it wasn't a real red zone?
A: Not a single person seemed to notice, and nobody parked in the red zone. My red zone. I'm just glad I wasn't someone that had to park there. But it would be nice if everybody would get out red tape and cover up all the curbs so nobody could park anywhere.
Q: You have used the phrase "utopian gesture" before in describing this new book-rearrangement project. What does that mean?
A: The title of the project is There Is Nothing Wrong in This Whole Wide World. "Utopian" is kind of a loaded word, I guess, but my basic take on that whole concept is that—you know, it's good to pretend like things are gonna be OK. And it's good to pretend that things'll go well ultimately. Because in a lot of ways, you don't really have any choice. And if you can reconcile the fact that there's really no other choice than to believe that things will eventually work themselves out, you know, if you can understand that really that's the best way to be, then a lot of things can fall into place, and a lot of possibilities open up for you.
And [the book project] is going to happen after the election. Right now while we're talking, we don't know who's going to win the presidential election. Or who's going to win in the Senate or the House. And so we could easily go into a tragic direction, you know. But still, either way, you have to act like things will go OK.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

More of Jenn Stark


4.13.10 Color Swatch


The Virgo's Whole Enchilada

on christmas mornings and forever 
it was my crayolas,
little soldiers perky at attention for my commands
at eight came the perfectly aligned prismacolors
sliding softly, silently through pulpy surfaces
age eleven brought, oh gosh bob ross, opening his full spectrum kimona to me,
then at fourteen, with one eye open, 
i painted it was the first with father's cast off windsor newtons
but six years later it was the color aid swatches that cracked me wide open
spinning me twirling me dissolving me
till i came to rest beside the sleek metal cases
of aqua monolith cretacolors, derwents,
and oh caran d'ache, oh caran d'ache
each in perfect prismatic order vibrating against each other.
just for me.

Art by Jenn Stark to see more go here.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Poem for Monday




Color equals emotion for me. There was a time in my life I had to have a small red room to sit in. It seemed to get me geared up to spill my guts on stage or on a canvas. My office has a bright clean blue wall. I love walking in here to start a project. The blue helps me feel empty and ready to create fresh work for clients. A chunk of torquoise on my finger, when stared at, mellows me as much as a glass of wine. Accepting the whole spectrum of color is what I'm trying to be aware of emotionally and creatively. Jane Hirshfield's Lake and Maple poem is one I go back to often to understand the incredible beauty and power of this idea.

Lake and Maple
-Jane Hirshfield

I want to give myself
utterly
as this maple
that burned and burned
for three days without stinting
and then in two more
dropped off every leaf;
as this lake that,
no matter what comes
to its green-blue depths,
both takes and returns it.
In the still heart that refuses nothing,
the world is twice-born --
two earths wheeling,
two heavens,
two egrets reaching
down into subtraction;
even the fish
for an instant doubled,
before it is gone.
I want the fish.
I want the losing it all
when it rains and I want
the returning transparence.
I want the place
by the edge-flowers where
the shallow sand is deceptive,
where whatever
steps in must plunge,
and I want that plunging.
I want the ones
who come in secret to drink
only in early darkness,
and I want the ones
who are swallowed.
I want the way
the water sees without eyes,
hears without ears,
shivers without will or fear
at the gentlest touch.
I want the way it
accepts the cold moonlight
and lets it pass,
the way it lets
all of of it pass
without judgment or comment.
There is a lake.
Lalla Ded sang, no larger
than one seed of mustard,
that all things return to.
O heart, if you
will not, cannot, give me the lake,
then give me the song. 

Image at the MOMA from naturluv's flickr page.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

I Love What Morgan Calderini Makes and Bakes


The definition of what art is, is one we all struggle with and work on to make our own. I decided ten years ago to settle with one that Milton Glaser suggests "Art is what moves the soul" And when I chose this weeks color the pale pink, Pantone 182, I immediately thought of Morgan Calderini's art form, hot air ballooning and specifically her balloon, Atlas. It moves a lot of people. The color of Atlas, her tenacity with building a balloon, learning to fly, causing children of all ages to chase her through acre long fields, is quite a story. Morgan Calderini (American, b.1985) surrounds herself with rather odd yet satisfying specialties: hot air balloon building,  printmaking, and pie baking are all things she takes very seriously. After having received her BFA in Printmaking from RISD in 2007,  Calderini chose to redefine the hierarchical printshop archetype by establishing and managing Rhode Islands only community printshop with a grant from AmeriCorps VISTA. Combining an interest in preserving a dying craft and sustaining its place in society with a pure desire to provide affordable and accessible printmaking resources, Calderini has found a home at the AS220 Community Printshop. When she's not baking killer blueberry pies or hunting for long lost litho stones that people have been using as door stops, she's learning to fly Atlas, her 70 foot, 54,000 cu. ft. hot air balloon that she built by herself when she was 22.

Can you tell me about your latest body of work? I am working on two large projects right now.  During my senior year at the RISD I built a hot air balloon as my thesis project.  From the beginning this has been an exercise in fundraising, communications, fabrication, design, and self discipline.  I am currently working on earning my pilot's licence from the FAA (federal aviation administration). 

The second project is a community Printshop that I've started with a group of other printmakers in downtown Providence at AS220, The AS220 Community Printshop.  I've been working there full time over the past two and half years with over 200 members to build a place for everyone to access equipment and knowledge.  We are moving in the fall to a space that is four times larger than our current home.    These are both part of what I  making and consider my work. 

What inspires you the most lately? The sunshine!  We are back to flying season here in Rhode Island.  I've been cooking dinner for one my balloonist friends and we get together each week to review regulations and study weather. 

What was your first memory? A hot air balloon landed down the street from our house in Colorado Springs, I was only 4 years old.

Can you describe the best thing you saw on your last walk? An amazing bakery and cheese shop on Main Street in Rosendale NY this past weekend. 

What are five things that would happen in the perfect day of work for you? The weather is perfect for a 4 am balloon ride, grab breakfast on the way to work.  The printshop is full of folks making their own art and I print along side them.  My ladyfriend and I meet for a picnic lunch outside.  Head home while the sun is still out. 

Can you describe the best pair of shoes you've ever owned? Red Justin Roper Cowboy boots. 

What are you doing this weekend? (March20-21) Rebuilding my inflator fan with my balloonist friend, Zach.  Going for a bike ride and baking a pie.

Saturday, September 26, 2009



“World peace through better color”
-Alyn Carlson
That’s one of the things I put on my business cards and most people seem to get it. I’ve watched so many of my clients and friends walk into my studio or home and break out in a grin. They lovingly run their fingertips over colored pencils, hold a paint tube in an achy palm, and with their eyes caress swatches of color aid paper. They usually give me a happy glazed look and say something like “You must be so happy working with all this color.” Actually I am.

It was a rumble in my stomach for years. I took a 20 year break from making personal work and craved color so much it just started bubbling up in all my design. I found when I started a project the first thing I did was open the pantone swatch book and listen for direction. When the damm broke and I started making personal work again about 8 years ago, I floated around with an expression on my face similar to the Dalai Lama’s. So why do we walk around starving ourselves? Pick the softest palest taupe and avoid the sexy tomatoe bisque? Afraid? Of what?

One of my favorite rants on that subject is by David Batchelor in his slim little hot pink book, Chromophobia. The more western our thinking is, the more urban we get, the farther away from intense color we find ourselves. Is color vulgar, dirty, primitive? Why should we bother to even consider this right now with all this economic malaise? Shouldn’t we lay low and keep our heads down, no changes, stay as beige as possible, and make ourselves as quiet and small as we can?

Because color = joy. What I love and am moved by every day, abstract expressionist Charles Seliger’s Ways of Nature, my little spring green Roseberry Winn vase, and even my carved bakelite bangles, feed me. I know responsible austerity is wise right now but so is smiling every day.

Hey my demi god, Milton Glaser puts it so well “If you like Mozart and I like Mozart we really have something in common. So the likelihood of us killing each other has been diminished.”

Don’t you just love the color yellow?