no day without a line

valéry on leonardo

2011-05-23T20:20:00.001-04:00

"i was only too well aware that my understanding of leonardo was much slighter than my admiration for him."

--introduction to the method of leonardo da vinci

life, currently.

2011-05-18T13:28:00.001-04:00

can't wait.

2011-01-11T21:19:00.001-05:00

on repeat.

2011-01-07T16:37:00.000-05:00

i heard a ghost of your voice
long after you had left the room
couldn't quite make out the words
but the laugh was unmistakably yours
how will i ever get the sound of you
out of my head?
i guess that i should only be
so lucky
and i saw my shadow next to yours
slowly fade away
and i saw my shadow next to yours
just fade away
we've had this conversation
so many times before
and i know that you are tired of
the same questions
but maybe if i keep asking them
the sounds from your mouth
will form the words
the words i want to hear
and i saw my shadow next to yours
slowly fade away
i saw my shadow next to yours
just fade away

the submarines, 'this conversation'

warning: self-indulgence ahead

2010-11-15T20:28:00.003-05:00

i know what you're thinking. you're like,"okay so there's this long stretch of posts about shopping and music videos and kitties, and now she's all like DEATH AND DYING morbid." it does seem a little bipolar, i know. but since i have an audience of two (including myself), i'm not that concerned about being consistent. one day kittens, the next major life experience. yeah. so when i was in alabama i was on my way to my friend elizabeth's when i thought i should visit all the stewarts who reside at highland cemetery. (is that even what it's called, m.d.?) there's a whole slew of stewarts waiting for me there, all of whose tombstones were photographed because i am my (genealogist) grandaddy's grandaughter. most important though is this guy:

like i said in the previous post, it had been awhile since i had been to anniston, and while i definitely don't believe that everything that's left of my dad is interred here, i always feel a sort of camaraderie when i visit his grave, almost like he'd get a real kick out of it. and at first i thought it seemed a bit wrong to photograph his tombstone, probably in much the same way that my mother second guessed herself when she considered photographing me in the evening light at my father's hospital bed on the ninth floor of rmc. but knowing that she regrets not taking that photograph made me pull out the camera (or the iphone, as it were), because i needed to document the both of us, together, the long shadows of my legs as they fell across the granite. i needed proof that we were together, if only in light and shade. i'm here, i'm here, and i know you'll never leave me.

i've said it before, and i'll say it again. my life is lived in two parts, every day before april 21, 1999, and every day after. what would i trade to see him pull on a fringed suede jacket and mock adam duritz just to get under my skin? what would i give to have him make me listen to in-a-gadda-da-vida on repeat ('just listen, jessica, just LISTEN'), to have him regale me with stories of playing with b.b. king and nearly burning down the house? what would i trade for another handcrafted wooden animal complete with its own correspondence, for another letter claiming he hadn't written this much in years? the answer is always the same, anything at all. take it all.

inherited no. 8

2010-11-15T19:16:00.004-05:00

in early october i made the trek down to alabama for a quick weekend. i'm not sure how many years had passed since i had stepped foot in anniston. i went mainly to see the m.d. and her own m.d., my grandma, who is 85 and the most humble person i've ever met, seriously. louise walker spent most of her childhood in a catholic orphanage in birmingham, and on june 20, 1947, when she was 22, she married my grandpa, leonard harkins. my grandpa was already sick with parkinson's when i was born, so i remember my grandma spending most of her time caring for him. she's been on her own for twenty years now and has been pretty independent until the last couple of years. now she lives with my aunt and uncle, and she spends her days praying, playing solitaire, doing puzzles, eating sweets, and napping. there is a photograph of my grandpa in his military uniform hanging in her room, and the first day i visited her on this trip she looked at the picture and said to my mother and me that he was a good man. such a simple statement, so true, but it was clear that what she was really saying was that she missed him. i can't imagine what it must be like to have lived twenty years without the person you loved most in all the world.

this is a rather roundabout way of getting to the inherited part of this post. as we sat in her room and my heart twisted in my chest at seeing her so different from when i'd last visited, she suddenly remembered that she wanted to give me something. (in all fairness, i had a hint this was coming.) she told me to go over to the statuette of the "blessed mother" on her dresser, and perched on top, like a halo, was her wedding ring.
i don't know why she chose me, it could be as simple as the fact that i'm the oldest unmarried grandaughter. (go me!) it's a simple ring in thin white gold, with almost sharp edges around the circumference. it's the sort of ring you wouldn't even notice, which is exactly how my grandma has lived her life, never trying to call attention to herself, but it now ranks among my most treasured possessions. too small for my own fingers, i strung it together with my mother's wedding ring. my mother's thick gold band hangs heavy next to the delicate, thin ring that bound my grandparents together for 43 years. wearing them together i constantly find my fingers twisting around them, trying to hold on to, to feel between my fingers, the love and hardship and commitment that kept them on my grandma and my mother's fingers for so many years. to have them, though, is bittersweet, because that i have them, that they aren't still on their original owners' fingers, is evidence of a loss beyond my comprehension.
that's the tricky thing about inheritances -- they almost always stand for someone's loss. thank you, grandma, for continuing to use a prayer book that's in pieces, for playing solitaire with cards whose edges are worn down in the center from years of shuffling, for reminding me of what matters.

i promise i think about more than frightened rabbit.

2010-11-12T10:16:00.001-05:00

barthes

2010-10-29T10:13:00.001-04:00

thanks to roland barthes for this one:

my body knows the joy of drawing on and rhythmically incising a virgin surface, its virginity representing the infinitely possible.

kitties! ikea!

2010-09-15T11:17:00.001-04:00

okay, so i'm a little obsessed with this commercial. ikea released 100 cats into their store one night, and this is what happened:

lonely.

2010-08-18T22:41:00.000-04:00

this has been making the rounds on the internets. love it.

london's aftermath

2010-08-09T11:44:00.004-04:00

there's still a bit more i would like to say about london, but for now, i leave you with a photo of the aftermath of the trip: the transcription of over 150 pages of notes. luckily i am accompanied by coffee and the new arcade fire album. (thanks, jen.)

and a sunday?

2010-07-21T16:06:00.008-04:00

sunday didn't turn out quite like i expected. i had high, high hopes of visiting the rob ryan shop but was completely and utterly thwarted by the transportation system. okay, realistically, i could have taken a bus i think, but as soon as the tube employee said "bus" i shut down. there is only one place i take buses, and that is rome. feeling a little dejected, i altered my route to visit the natural history museum, which i've been really excited about, despite being 28 years old and not exactly in their intended demographic. dinosaurs? YES. stuffed (real) animals. YES. specimens in formaldehyde. YES. life-size models of whales? YES. petrified trees? YES. strange creatures i never knew existed? YES. i was pumped. and so were the five million small children surrounding me. that number may not be exaggerated. so downsides of the natural history museum: extremely wild children with no idea how to behave combined with lack of air conditioning. upside of the natural history museum, besides the specimens: hearing small children talk about what they were seeing, especially the ones with british accents. 'that's a quite large fox, isn't it, daddy? i saw a fox once whilst i was dreaming.' newsflash: small british children say 'whilst.' TO DIE FOR. but for serious, the museum was stunning, i just wish mommerdoodle was there to see it, since she's responsible for my love of natural history museums. (please forgive the poor quality images, most specimens were behind glass.)

slinking tiger

check out those antlers (note human to antler ratio). these were grown and shed every year.
how do you even hold up your head with that much antler?

this, apparently, is a type of possum.

i don't know what this is, but i liked his facial expression.
maybe a wolverine?

it's sort of like a hedgehog...

this is a vampire bat from the flying mammals case, which also included:

i don't know what the hell this is, but it was freaky.

it's a mole! cute and unsettling all at the same time!

this is some sort of fairy armadillo or something.

hyena!

well, hello, mr. seal.

god, i love warthogs. and as you may have noticed, i was really into the
charming and bizarre facial expressions the animals ended up with.

speaking of, how great is this activity area?

can you spot the narwhal?

everything was going well until...

this was fascinating and sad. it was a massive case of hummingbirds all mounted as if in the wild, hundreds in one case. as the label next to it said, this would be considered unethical now. the case dates from ca. 1819.

and this is a MONDO slice of a sequoia that was felled in 1892.
look at the diameter of that thing!

once you get to the top, where the sequoia is, this is the view. not too shabby indeed.

unfortunately this is as close to a hedgehog i've come here in the hedgie homeland. and this one was behind glass, behind glass, in some lab.

natural history museums are in some ways a thing of the past, the collection of their specimens no longer an accepted practice. it was interesting to note the fading and signs of wear on many of the specimens in this museum, which labels noted was due to their having been collected in the 19th and early 20th centuries. the museum still hosts an active research institute, but the research takes place according to 21st-century ethical standards. they're tricky places, these natural history museums, but my childhood was built around one so i'm partial to their efforts. and i really like seeing animals i didn't know existed.

there was a saturday a few days ago?

2010-07-21T14:52:00.008-04:00

st. paul's from the tate modern

wow, things have been a little crazy here. that really means i've been driving myself a little crazy. this past weekend was my last in london, so i wanted to fit in a gazillion things, literally. saturday was a shopping and museum day ALL DAY LONG. started out walking down the portobello road market and into little shops here in there, including couverture, which was super, super cute. ventured into all saints spitalfields, where essentially all of the clothing is black, gray, and white. a little slice of heaven for me, and to top it off their expansive storefront was absolutely teeming with vintage sewing machines. there must have been hundreds:

i also trekked out to the lisa stickley shop and hit up both heals and habitat. and then, then there was paperchase, a whole three floors devoted to paper products. believe it or not all of this took nearly all day and A LOT of walking. i finished the day with a return visit to the tate modern, which is open til 10 on saturdays. some (okay, many) favorite sights:

it's hard to explain, but i LOVE robert morris's felt sculptures.

glenn ligon's neon america.

the warhol room, from ceiling to floor.

oh, joseph beuys, you're so delightfully bizarre sometimes.

fifty years of russian propaganda posters.

i always have a soft spot for barnett newman. here are adam & eve.

mmm, pollock's summertime.

this clyfford still blew me away. the blue was neon and celestial all at once.

and finally, cy tombly. electric red-orange dripping down the canvas.

after a coffee at the tate cafe, i made my way back to the southwark station and waited for my train, alone.

nine o'clock at the national gallery

2010-07-16T17:31:00.004-04:00

please, no comments.

2010-07-15T17:29:00.005-04:00

proof that england loves their rpatz a lot more than kstew:

(just ignore how rpatz's face gets a little warped on the poster container.)

another shopping post...sort of.

2010-07-15T16:49:00.006-04:00

it probably seems a bit odd to do two posts back to back, but i haven't been writing in any journal on this trip, mostly because i'm not sure i'll ever be able to write without pain after so much note-taking. i would, therefore, like to write it all down when i have the chance. and that chance is now.

today was my first day at the british museum print room, and it was markedly less pleasant than windsor. i got to see some ridiculous drawings, but i was made to feel a little guilty or like they were doing me some amazing favor all the while. eh. it's true, i'm not a fancy curator or professor, but my interest is just as valid, and i love these drawings fiercely. what can you do? it can't all be peachy. while at the british museum, though, i finally got a chance to see the exhibition that got this whole trip started:

there it is, the british museum, home to the parthenon marbles, mummies galore, and many, many italian renaissance drawings. (i deleted a bit i wrote about stolen antiquities.)

oh, and there's verrocchio again, all huge on the front of a museum!!! egad!

well, my excitement at seeing verrocchio plastered on the front of the british museum only lasted so long. because then i found myself in one of the many museum shops, and i realized that i was going to be seeing a lot, A LOT of verrocchio today. note cube? check. coffee mug? check. tote bag? check. tea towel? check. pencil puzzle thingies? check. tshirts? check.

now, you may be thinking, hey, that's great that verrocchio made it on a tshirt. i sort of felt that way myself until...

upon closer inspection i realized this wasn't just a tshirt with one of verrocchio's most amazing drawings on it. no, they, whoever they is, felt the need to add SILVER METALLIC INK TO THE HAIR. (click for detail.) because, apparently, the drawing wasn't enough on its own, it needed SILVER METALLIC INK. and then there's this:

now when i first saw this, i thought, "hmm, i wonder why there's all this weird chicken stuff???" oh, wait, it's because they took the renaissance drawing you see on the plaque and MADE IT RED AND PUT IT ON EVERYTHING IMAGINABLE.

i wasn't kidding.

i know i'm being a poor sport about all of this, i should be totally pumped that this exhibition has done so well. and i am, i was beyond pleased to see people spending time in front of the drawings and not rushing through the exhibition. (despite the fact that i desperately wanted to tell one couple to take it outside, geez, if you can't make it through a drawings exhibition without constantly pawing at one another...) but it really bothers me when images are fundamentally altered to make them more "accessible" or, let's be honest, more "buyable." i, and many others, love verrocchio for verrocchio, and we really don't need silver ink to be slapped onto the image. and to think i was so excited to see verrocchio in the underground -- i had no idea the level of merchandising that awaited me. tomorrow, back to windsor

a quick p.s. for jen:

you know how i feel about cheetahs wearing fancy collars and leashes....

so leonardo and i were having an espresso...

2010-07-15T16:04:00.004-04:00

oh, hi there. what happened to those last four days? well, the weather went from sweltering to freezing, i rode a lot of trains, and have taken approximately 100 pages of hand-written notes. in pencil, and you know how i feel about pencils. so i spent monday, tuesday, and wednesday examining drawings at windsor castle. i don't know what i expected from windsor, but i have to tell you, it's pretty gosh darn cute, especially with that ROYAL ESTATE and all. it's really quite charming, and my visits to the study room of the castle have been phenomenal. the people who work there are beyond nice (and trust me, i've experienced the opposite of beyond nice in print rooms). i sent a list of the things i wanted to see ahead of time, and it was a wishful thinking kind of list, sort of like,"yeah, sure, they're never going to let me see this many leonardos." actually they've let me see so many more than i ever expected, and in fact just pull out box after box of leonardo drawings. hello, heaven, it's nice to be here. seriously, it's been crazy unbelievable to sit in front of leonardo drawings for as long as i like, just me and the drawing, which somehow works out to be me and leonardo, face to face, hand to hand. i thought about trying to find an image online to show you, to give you the tiniest glimpse into what i'm seeing, but it was too hard to choose, and nothing can compare to how it looks when you're sitting in front of the real deal. instead, i thought i'd show you a bit of the castle:

by the time i get to this point, i've already shown my passport twice and will show it once more.

windsor also has a cath kidston, which has super cute window displays mixing vintage goods with her wares. how hilarious is that tea cozy?

and the other day, as i was walking in the drizzle waiting for my appointment, i saw this, an alexander girard bike. it was, to say the least, beautiful. you have to click on the image to see some of the details. because this was obviously someone's bike i didn't want to obsessively photograph it, but just so you know, there was even imagery on the handlebars. A-MAZ-ING.

and now, for something less amazing, i couldn't have you thinking that i just lurve everything i've encountered here. that right there is a tequila flavored lollipop with a freaking worm in it. a real worm. "specially 'grown' (!?!?!?!) for human consumption." um, no. while i think it's probably some grubby worm, it looks suspiciously like a caterpillar, and i literally recoiled when i saw these, merchandised on an entire wall of edible insects.

apologies for leaving you with this nightmarish vision.

sunday is for markets.

2010-07-11T14:48:00.009-04:00

so basically i'm ready to move to london. ideally i would split my time between london and italy.

okay, i know you're probably thinking that i've gone a little nuts considering this is three posts in 24 hours which is more than i've written in the past three months, but it's kind of lonely here without any peeps. and i want to tell you all about it and document everything while it's still fresh. fyi, this is the entrance to spitalfields market, in which one can find a dr. martens shop. i resisted but enjoyed a peek for old times' sake.

today i slept until 10:00 and felt terribly guilty, but i made up for it by going a little bananas again with my overzealous "get it done, get it ALL done" attitude yet again. despite not being able to move many of my body parts with any ease, i set out in high spirits, iced latte in hand, towards some of the sunday markets, including spitalfields, backyard and sunday up. there was a light breeze, and i thought,"great, it won't be as bad as yesterday." hahahahaha. funny how walking through markets serving piping hot food creates an endless stream of sweat. um, yeah. i hit up spitalfields first, where i got some treats for some ladies i know. and i went in this amazing store called elemental. they restore vintage furniture and goods, like this little bike, from ca. 1900:

and this crazy awesome paris sign:

and unbelievable metal cabinets like this one:

everything had been restored, so it was in amazing condition. also, nothing was priced, so that should tell you a lot about how well anything would have fit into my budget. but it was a super cool space and the goods were phenomenal. and then, there was this:

that's right, take-away prosecco for under $6. i was so tempted and in love with the idea of strolling through the market with a glass of prosecco. but it just felt a little bit wrong without a pal with whom to share the fun of take-away prosecco. (traveling alone is both empowering and frustrating, and it can be very sad sometimes, or maybe a better word is bittersweet.)

in general the markets were sensory overload. some amazing things and some very disappointing things (i.e. tons of stolen imagery/ideas). most overwhelmed by all the food at the markets, from every corner of the world and smelling delicious. if i were braver and less overheated, it would have been fun to sample lots of little plates. after the markets i set out for labour and wait, a store i have wanted to visit since the beginning of time. it was much tinier than i expected, and if i lived here, i would have snagged all sorts of goodies. nearby i came across luna & curious, which had lovely jewels and ceramics. i loved seeing people carrying huge bunches of beautiful flowers, wrapped perfectly in brown paper with blooms poking out of the top. nearby was caravan, which i also knew i needed to see. lo and behold, look what i found:

it's screech owl! wowser! this is caravan's storefront:

while taking this photo i ran into an electrical fusebox thing mounted on the side of a building. i am awesome. i admit, after this, i got seriously lost and was hungry and tired and ANNOYED. then i came across this show/market called 'save our souls,' which turned out to be the camberwell college of arts ba exhibition. it was pretty snazzy, but i was still lost. finally, and i do mean finally, i made it to the liverpool street station and headed towards covent garden. and there, friends, there one can find the orla kiely flagship store:

the store was so beautiful, with customized wood floors emblazoned with the stem design. custom furniture and fixtures -- so, so lovely. and while i know i should have used my envirosax, how do you turn this down?

i visited the cath kidston store in covent garden, but it was absolutely swamped beyond belief. i decided to try to anthropologie before everything closed down at 6:00. and thus began a little adventure of its own. it began when i took the tube to piccadilly circus and then walked in a gigantic circle, with feet that were already rubbed raw despite my ergonomic euro-shoes. and then when i stopped for an iced latte, i was told that the coffee shop was out of ice (!?!?!?!) but that with cold milk it was essentially the same. this might have been true if they were mixing refrigerated espresso with cold milk, but it was hot espresso with cold milk. not the best coffee i've ever had...finally, there it was, one of london's two anthropologie stores. it was three stories, and a living plant wall rose up through all three:

oh, and this is for suzannah:

okay, i'm clearly running out of steam on this blogging business. so tired, and tomorrow won't be nearly as free form as today. i'm off to windsor castle, where i'll be doing what i came here for, looking at drawings. the drawings i'm excited about, the nerves i am not. but finally, i stopped to take a (blurry) photo of this subway ad for the british museum exhibition. didn't think i'd ever see a verrocchio drawing blown up and hanging in a subway. love it. (although it's interesting he doesn't get name credit in the big list!)

with that, friends, i am out. xoxo.

addenda

2010-07-11T14:43:00.005-04:00

p.s. when i first arrived here, it seemed so nice and cool in comparison to virginia. i internally smirked every time i heard someone complaining about the heat. i thought to myself,"these people would never survive in virginia." hahahaha. and then i got on the tube and almost died from sweating. and then i went to the craftacular which was about 90 degrees and NOT air conditioned and almost died from sweating. spotting a trend? it may be hotter in virginia, but thank god we're ready for it because london, my friends, is NOT.

p.p.s. i haven't fallen yet.

p.p.p.s. i ate delicious frozen yogurt called snog. it's sweetened with agave nectar and topped with fresh raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, and chocolate shavings. i don't remember london having such good food before.

p.p.p.p.s. this iphone has saved my life a gazillion times over already. i love you, my little magic machine.

london calling

2010-07-11T14:07:00.009-04:00

so, i've been in london for about 36 hours, and in typical jessica fashion, i have exhausted myself trying to cram as much in as is humanly possible. because for some reason, i seem to think that i'm leaving, like, tomorrow or something? really i think it's because i like to visit everything once, surveying the scene, and then i return to make 'important' decisions. by important i mean,"what should i buy?" the problem with this plan is that i've already run myself a little ragged, a lot ragged really. and the real work hasn't even begun!

after arriving at heathrow at 10:00, i made my way to my tiny studio by about 1:00. and then:

i ventured out to the bust craftacular, where i met gemma correll! sadly, her pug, mr. pickles, had been evicted, so i was unable to meet him. but i got some swag...and then, on to liberty of london.

i want to live here, really. correspondence and confections? i love it.

at a certain point, i just had to leave because i couldn't take it any more. i knew that there was serious danger of me spending every little penny i have in this emporium of mindblowing awesomeness. more on liberty later...i have a feeling i'll be back several times, by which i mean nearly every day. after escaping certain financial ruin, i wandered around carnaby street and the surrounding streets, and i found a muji, making this the third country in which i have patronized the store. this time i only bought a washcloth. clearly i was still coming down from my liberty high.

i also found a super cute baby super store called mamas and papas. it was about five gazillion times better than babies r us, and they sold cute onesies like this:

by now it was about 7:00, and a normal person might have gone home for the night, due to having been awake for approximately 30 hours straight. but lest you forget, i am a crazy person, and since the tate modern is open until 10:00 on saturdays, i trekked on over. and when i say trekked, i mean it, because after alighting at the southwark station, it felt like i walked twenty miles. this was, in part, because i was exhausted and also because my body was literally freaking out on me.

and because i am a RESPECTFUL museum-goer i have no fancy tate photos. seriously, i saw one kid just snapping FLASH PHOTOGRAPHS of PAINTINGS without even looking at the labels. and trust me, he had no idea what he was looking at. maybe when i return i'll get something better than this accidental photo. it kind of sums out how i felt when i was walking back to the tube. slightly crazed, with blurred vision, and in a state of transformation. i was about to fall apart. and i only saw half of the tate! back for sure, one of my favorite museums, as always.

on my way home i stopped at the grocery to get some crucial items: bread, cheese, water, and hoegaarden. and then i collapsed. in a heap.

calling cards to lift your spirits.

2010-06-21T21:06:00.005-04:00

sometimes you're having a bad day or week or month or year, and shopping helps. today my shopping took me into the land of calling cards, which i've been meaning to obtain for awhile now. decisions, decisions. i haven't chosen my 'professional' ones yet, but i ordered up a small batch of these babies from rifle paper co. for friendly encounters.

can you guess which one i chose?

frightened rabbit

2010-05-04T23:09:00.001-04:00

i love you.

i may have died in a landslide of rocks and hopes and fears.

inherited no. 7

2010-04-23T20:31:00.004-04:00

a beatles themed birthday

(note amazing stenciled banner in background)

april is a rough month. i always find myself torn between being excited for spring and a little shaken up that another season is passing, already. april is also full of days that i rarely talk about anymore, at least not on the day itself, a month full of stewart births and deaths.

my grandaddy was born on april 16, 1916.

my father was born on april 12, 1946.

my father died on april 21, 1999.

this year april 21 passed, and on the day itself i didn't speak a word of it to anyone. i'm not very good at asking for what i need, especially when i don't even know what it is that i need.

this year my father would have been 64. i like to imagine his life before things went awry, before the little brother whose birthday he shared died and the world stopped, or at least that's how i imagine things. my father never uttered his brother's name to me, and it wasn't until he was gone that i could even begin to imagine what happened to the family living in the house at 931 montvue when keith stopped breathing, at three years old and having only ever learned to say my father's name. it breaks me to think of this family, my family. i like to imagine him like this, instead:

a chubby kid with a big smile, playing with trucks and trains and not yet marred by keith's death and his mother's alcoholism and vietnam's losses. this little tonka reminds me that, despite all this, he made me believe that his childhood was one adventure after another, whether it was treeing raccoons or boy scout camp or shooting cans at the farm.

still, i'd give anything in this world to be celebrating his birthday with him instead of with this tonka. i miss you.

is this really a lady gaga post?

2010-04-18T10:16:00.000-04:00

love this version of lady gaga's "telephone."

venezia bound.

2010-04-04T21:44:00.007-04:00

in about 48 hours i'll be on a plane to venice. i'm giving a paper on pollaiuolo's drawings, a paper that still needs some finishing touches. haha. perfect time to blog!

but right now i'm preparing to teach leonardo tomorrow and burning cds for aaron. (ciao, aacat!) as i put together my powerpoint (ugh) i am reminded of the ridiculously amazing parts of my job. you know, like going to venice. is this my life? do i write papers on pollaiuolo and teach leonardo? do i get to sit in front of drawings by leonardo and verrocchio? really?

tomorrow i'll be showing students details of this:

and even better, this:

has there ever been a more perfect representation of a cat in the clutches of a small child? as i zoom in on details of these works, i feel my eyes welling up, an immediate response in part to how ridiculously beautiful these works are but also to the fact that somehow my job is to talk about how ridiculously beautiful these works are. i often find myself faced with the problem of finding words to express what can't be said, how do you describe leonardo's pen on paper?

the thing is, i often feel like teaching is depressing, an uphill battle, a lost cause. but then, there are flickers of seeing a student love something as fiercely as i do, and there's the knowledge that this thing that they love, that they didn't know existed until today, i gave it to them. and i really, really want them to run with it.

so after i teach leonardo, i'll pack for venice, and i'll fly across the atlantic to read my paper in the city that floats, all while wearing a dress with turtles strewn across it. thanks, anthro, for that one. don't be fooled, i'm a nervous wreck. but in the back of my mind, i am comforted by the knowledge that somewhere out there, there are a few shadowy shades a la leonardo who couldn't be prouder of how ridiculous this life of mine is. thank you, gm, gd, and d. (and m.d., who just hit 98 lbs and is a little less shadowy.)

ani difranco, 25 april 1997, harrisonburg, virginia

2010-03-03T13:57:00.001-05:00

in case you were wondering, on 25 april 1997, ani difranco played the following songs:

1. my iq
2.untouchable face
3. worthy
4. napoleon
5. letter to a john
6. ?
7.?
8. little plastic castles
9. if he tries anything
10. anticipate
11. do re mi
12. not a pretty girl
13. god's country
14. gravel
15. cradle & all
16. shameless
17. in or out

i'm posting this here so that i can get rid of the piece of paper on which i recorded this setlist. go, and be recycled, little set list.

a music video for art historians

2010-03-03T11:46:00.001-05:00

my friend liz just sent me the link for this video. love it!

70 Million by Hold Your Horses ! from L'Ogre on Vimeo.

two things.

2010-01-16T07:07:00.003-05:00

here is the duomo of florence from the ballatoia of the palazzo vecchio. pretty awesome, no?

something else that's awesome is this cat at the boboli gardens. please note the amazing way the kitty tummy balloons out around him. can i take you home, little kitty?

some thoughts on animals, bruises, and siena.

2010-01-07T16:32:00.004-05:00

hello all. and by all i mean one, since i post so rarely that i am sure i have no readers left. i'm here in florence, wrapping up week one. the weather has been frigid and rainy, and i've already fallen down twice. this morning it was down stairs, and i have a black (yes, black) and red bruise about 4" x 3" in a rather unfortunate place. it may be the worst bruise i've ever had, trumping the black eye i got when my sister jumped off the metal seesaw and the shin bruise i sported for weeks after pitching face first into a pile of monkey grass and concrete. here's a tip: don't fall down stone stairs. other than that, a few things:

first, what on earth is this poor creature doing stranded in the arno? more importantly, WHAT is this animal? no tail was evident, and it was certainly unable to swim in the currently choppy waters. while i was investigating the matter an italian tv crew came to film it. i really hope he made it out okay.

do you want to know what awesome is? it's cat-dog showdowns in painting, like this example from siena that i saw today, after i fell down the stairs and before i went to furla. someone should hire me to choose details from paintings for postcards.

lastly, i just purchased a book called 'scandal in tuscany' that uses the pig painted in the lorenzetti brothers' 'good government' as the main character in a story of mischief and mayhem. the pig's name is cinta, and she is one feisty sow. witty borrowing from important painting or bastardization of art historical touchstone? i'll go with the former.

xoxo.

breaking news...i was wrong.

2009-10-21T10:00:00.004-04:00

apparently i misled you about the provenance of the necklace a la nessie. my dad gave it to my mom, not my grandfather. oops. this may not be a big deal to you, but i am now left to question the accuracy of all my childhood memories.

i and love and you.

2009-10-18T18:53:00.004-04:00

it's been too long, friends. this morning when i was driving to work i was listening to the radio, and one of my favorite new songs came on. here it is, courtesy of youtube:

as i was thinking about it, i realized one of the reasons i like this so much is maybe, er..probably, because the brothers' voices sound so much like a certain adam duritz, who once claimed all of my affections. as in, i had enough counting crows tshirts to wear a different one every day of the week and DID. and i spent copious amounts of hard-earned baby-sitting cash on back issues of rolling stone magazine even if it was only for a mere mention of my beloved dreadlocked lead singer. and i once got the donuts on my braces in red, blue, black, and gray because adam duritz sang "i will paint my picture, paint myself in blue and red and black and gray." well, i think that'll do it.

inherited no. 7

2009-10-02T11:48:00.005-04:00

i've been feeling really guilty about my lack of posting on this bloggie. i realize i only have approximately five readers, but i still wish i could maintain a more consistent schedule. i mean, there's only so many ridiculous photos of animals people want to see. today won't be much of a break in terms of the animals, except for that this one is possibly an imaginary animal. yes, i'm talking about you, nessie. here she is memorialized in egg press's 'you're unbelievable' card. do i own it? yes, yes, i do, and so should you.
the loch ness monster has long been a source of fascination to the easily captivated stewart family. my grandfather on the stewart side was an ardent genealogist and traveled extensively in scotland researching the family name and bringing back various kinds of memorabilia. among the more notable items was this ensemble that i once donned for halloween. please note the hat to head ratio and the pervasiveness of plaid in this photo.

but, beyond extremely scratchy wool blend kilts and scarves, he also brought back this super snazzy nessie necklace for my mom. at some point in recent years, i may have hijacked this necklace from my mother's jewelry collection. i don't feel too badly about it because i have seen m.d. wear a necklace maybe three times ever. no, i am not exaggerating.

isn't she so cute? i love that the metal is worn and smooth and dulled down. just look at her little nose! she makes me so happy.

mystery fruit

2009-09-25T13:18:00.002-04:00

bonjour, friends. i've been meaning to post this bizarro fruit/berry/mystery flora for like ever. so there are these petite little trees around my apartment, and they bear these strange pinky red prickle ball fruits. i think they're kind of amazing, and weird. (this may go on record as the most pointless post ever.)

an ode to flat-faced dogs, part quatre.

2009-09-18T11:18:00.003-04:00

more soon, i promise. for now, this photo of bentley, courtesy of m.d.

you can read more about this surfing pug here. i do question the fact that he qualified in the 20 pounds and under category. hmm.

sophie as sushi

2009-09-16T12:19:00.003-04:00

remember those last days of summer when time just floated by, and you thought you were busy but then fall attacked and you reevaluated the definition of "busy?" well, one thing that's good about fall is HALLOWEEN. not that i dress up or participate in any way, but i enjoy the idea of halloween. thankfully sara is on top of things and already found a costume for soph-a-doph, here modeled by a lovely boston terrier, who is clearly thrilled to be decked out as a japanese edible.

sushi costume from sushibooties on etsy

...

2009-09-09T22:36:00.001-04:00

today, everything is a failure.

the dutchess & the duke

2009-08-31T17:00:00.000-04:00

i saw the dutchess and the duke at the now defunct gravity lounge last year or sometime in the recent past. they were awesome. this isn't a real video, but i want you to hear this song, reservoir park. on myspace they describe themselves as 'campfire punk,' which is, well, just right.

back to school!

2009-08-31T09:00:00.000-04:00

speaking of photos taken from behind, i thought you might appreciate this. i am basically posting this photo to harass my little sister, katherine. this is our back to school photo from 1991 -- i was starting fourth grade, katherine first. and as you can see, our dachshund, hope aka hopeeees, had to get in on the rear view action. check out our matching outfits. WE WERE SO COOL. you can't really see it from this angle because my HOT PINK backpack is covering it up, but i'm wearing a matching vest and perfectly round john lennon glasses. we aren't even going to talk about katherine's pants. and maybe she had a vest, too? this particular year katherine and i had two first days of school, it's a long story, but suffice to say that on my second first day of fourth grade i distinctly remember wearing an acid washed denim mini skirt with a ruffle all around the bottom. no, it wasn't ruffled, it was a denim mini WITH a ruffle. and i remember loving that thing like there was no tomorrow.

now we're sort of grown up and katherine has an mfa from pratt. she has stellar printmaking skills and does crazy cool installations. you can see her most recent work, index of you and me, on her site. she also once attempted to elude the police WHILE DRIVING when she was fourteen. she's awesome. obviously.

nostalgia fits me like a glove.

2009-08-30T09:55:00.001-04:00

my mother does not remember this, and so it is mine to tell. the details have faded, and maybe they are wrong. but she does not remember, so i will remember for both of us. a balmy night with only the faintest touch of chill. there must have been some sort of discussion to give rise to our actions, talk of meteor showers or falling stars. i remember it being dark and feeling like we were embarking on a secret adventure. (there are so many things that are ours alone.) we gathered a few kitchen towels, walked down the concrete steps that are home to so many of my memories, and we perched ourselves on the hood of my father’s truck. we smoothed the towels out flat between our reclining bodies. she told me we needed them in case we caught a falling star. the utter impossibility is immediately clear. not only does one not catch falling stars, but one certainly does not attempt to do so with threadbare kitchen towels. we waited and watched, in much the same way that i remember urgently pressing my nose to the bedroom window on christmas eve, when it was time to sleep, eagerly and desperately seeking out any hint of a glowing red orb in the night sky. i am thankful for these falsehoods. no falling stars were caught, but i do not remember the evening as a failed mission. what i remember is stretching out on the hood of a car, under the starry sky, with my mother at my side. i remember believing.

inherited no. 6

2009-08-29T20:09:00.005-04:00

i told myself i had to stay in tonight to work on my ghirlandaio chapter and/or preparation for my class that meets monday. but the thing is, uva just switched to this new student registration system that has things all sorts of wackadoodle, and right now it only looks like two people are enrolled in my class. maybe more people will show up monday, but if not, the class will be canceled, and that makes preparation seem extremely unappealing. so now blogging has become a form of procrastination. that and trawling the internets for new music. to ease the nagging guilt i thought i would at least post an inheritance that's marginally related to what i'm supposed to be doing. you remember muriel, right, she of the watch and pastels and sesame street chitchats?

in honor of the closing days of summer, here's a favorite snapshot of grandmother. muriel kept an entire album of photographs taken from behind, it was her favorite kind, so it seems fitting that among the masses of photos i've collected, there's this one of her.

this tiny book is what i want to show you, friends. its pages are cracked and yellowed and it smells like the inside of old wooden drawers. also, it originally cost 60 cents. can you say awesome? i was only subconciously aware of this book's existence until a few years ago when one of my professors was listing off a short bibliography of general books on drawing i might consult. this was before i had irrevocably signed my life away to the study of these fragile pieces of paper, but when he mentioned this little text, it suddenly came into focus in my mind. oh, yes, i thought, i know that one, my grandmother owned it. and then, when i opened it, and it fell immediately to the page pictured below, well, something clicked.

on the page opposite the opening lines of text was the drawing that had pushed me over the edge into a full-fledged and unabashed love of the drawing hand. this is the one that, more than once, has single-handedly caused salty drops of water to spill over onto my cheeks. and that's all fine and dandy, la ti da, but then, to think that my grandmother must have stared at the same drawing, to think that she knew a piece of me before i knew it myself, before it could be known at all, well, that's just sort of mindblowing for me.

bug, duck, and worm.

2009-08-24T20:19:00.009-04:00

generally speaking, i am not a fan of rats. and so that i don't seem prejudiced, i want you to know that i have a lot of personal experience with rats. they're just...creepy, and have long, hairless tails. in theory, they could be cute, in much the same way chipmunks or squirrels or other small-ish rodents can be cute, but to be honest, i'd prefer a possum over a rat any day. my personal experience with possums is much more endearing, mainly because i used to care for one that would ride on my shoulder and hang upside down from my finger. but, earlier today, i was reminded of a few rats, namely duck, worm, and the late bug, who redeem the entire species. evidence below.

duck and worm

jessica florence photographs her rats and posts them on her flickr page and blog. they are the most adorable and snuggly rats ever, and jessica takes amazing photos of them. go visit her sites and check out the others. you will die from cuteness, i swear.

bug

worm

oh, and...

2009-08-21T20:37:00.002-04:00

the last post reminded me of this, which is AWESOME. you just have to make it through the french at the beginning. there are pugs, people, dancing pugs.

inherited no. 5

2009-08-21T18:46:00.010-04:00

it's that time of year that time itself seems to speed up. i have a feeling these last months of 2009 are going to pass me by quickly and all the sudden it will be 2010, which i hear we're supposed to call "twenty-ten." i've only just gotten used to prefacing years with "two thousand..."

having always been overly conscious of the passing of time, the way years keep flying by is somewhat disconcerting. (and yes, i know, it's only going to get worse.) i'm pretty sure i almost annoyed m.d. to death by making the following kind of statement A LOT: "this is the last monday i am going to brush my teeth at home before i go to camp for a month." or, much later, "this may be the last breath my father is ever going to take." it doesn't matter what it is, i have always been obsessed with being aware of time, of firsts and lasts, of where i am in it all. i want to feel it between my fingers, and i want to remember it all. luckily i have a few things that help me out with this.

this small clock is more substantial than it looks, cast entirely in metal and still ticking away, despite having been patented in 1894. originally my great-grandmother's, the paint has worn away in places and the color on the details has faded. it's just the way i like it.

i'm wearing this little watch as i type. it was my grandmother's, and i remember finding it many years after she died when my mom and i were going through a suitcase of things we had taken with us while cleaning out her house. it was mixed in with cufflinks and clip-on earrings and tie clips and costume jewelry. when i saw it i fell in love with how delicate it is, the tiny stones framing the watchface, the fact that it has to be wound everyday and never needs a battery. the crystal was all scratched up, so m.d. had it replaced for me, and it's been in my watch wardrobe ever since. i think of grandmother every time i look down, only to realize that too much time has passed.

the last of my inherited timepieces is the least functional of the three but perhaps the most beloved. my father never wore a watch, maybe because it would have made his work more dangerous (he'd already gotten his arm caught in a machine once). or maybe because pocket watches are exponentially cooler. and in case you haven't noticed, my father was, um, kind of really cool. so he always had his pocket watch, hanging heavy and worn in his jeans pocket. my mom gave me the last one he had not too long ago, and i had forgotten its weight, its smooth, cool metal casing. needless to say, i love this thing, but i REALLY cannot figure out what on earth is happening in the narrative on the front. the back is a swirly art nouveau floral pattern, but then, flip it over, and there is what appears to be a native american male, mounted on a horse, and next to him is a woman, also atop a horse, wearing a voluminous dress and sporting a headdress? a tiara? a veil? two dogs run in the foreground. so maybe it's a man and his bride, sort of new world business? clearly ethically questionable, yes. okay, but then why are there medieval looking castles in the background? i'm telling you, there are some serious anachronisms going on here. if you've got any ideas, please let me know.

i suppose if he were here, i would ask my dad what is going on with this watch. although, of course, if he were here, it would probably still be resting warmly and comfortably in the pocket of his jeans, and i wouldn't be holding on to time quite so tightly.

listening to: lightning dust. buy it. immediately.

a quick jaunt

2009-08-15T22:54:00.002-04:00

tomorrow morning i leave bright and early for new york, off to the gift show for what is sure to be an exhausting few days. back soon. bacioni.

inherited no. 4

2009-08-10T21:32:00.005-04:00

here i am, back for more. tonight i'm thinking about an inheritance that arrived in my possession via my mom aka mommerdoodle, often referred to here in the shorthand as m.d. she's the mommer to the doodle. i'm really trying to keep "gifts" out of this inherited series, but when i received this norton electric company telephone, patented in 1923(ish), it felt more like an inheritance than a gift. i knew it was mine for safekeeping.

by the way, before we move on to the specifics of this acquisition, i should mention that this phone was made in canada. to be honest, i wasn't aware anything but lifesavers were made in canada. (and this knowledge i owe to m.d.) who knew?

moving on.

this phone passed into my hands because my mother TALKS TO EVERY SINGLE PERSON SHE ENCOUNTERS...EVER. i often berate her for this behavior, but in all actuality, i wouldn't have her any other way. and, you know, i wouldn't have this amazing phone. the phone started out in the hands of a mr. jefferson, proprietor of a fish market in fairhope, alabama. i don't recall the details of how m.d. came to know mr. jefferson, but i know that he endeared himself to her by feeding and befriending the local feral cats and regaling her with stories of gambling in mississippi. just so you know, mr. jefferson is old, as in, when i met him several years ago, he showed me that he was a card-carrying veteran of world war II. the man fought in the battle of the bulge, people, and i am not joking. mr. jefferson had used this phone at his fish market for god knows how many years, and on the first day i met him and despite offers from others to pay good money for this weathered rotary dial antiquity, he handed me this treasure. and i don't believe it's because i was exceedingly charming or particularly interesting; it was solely because i am my mother's daughter. it's an object, a thing, a material possession no one needs, but there was something so moving about this transfer of goods. i have it, here, with me, as a reminder of an unlikely friendship between a slightly ornery old man and my overly friendly mother. it's a reminder of the good they saw in each other, and the good that i see in them.

i only met mr. jefferson the once, but i think of him whenever i pick up the heavy receiver of his phone. (and in case you're wondering, it still works after being adapted with a modern cord. the only problem is it sounds like a fire alarm on acid and increases risk of heart attack.) more importantly, whenever i see the phone, i hope that one day, i will be more like m.d. and not be afraid to walk up to a stranger and say hello. thank you, m.d., for talking to EVERY SINGLE PERSON YOU ENCOUNTER...EVER.

m.d. with a fish in her hand
bet you didn't think you'd see this on the internets, huh, m.d.?

can i go back to bed?

2009-08-07T10:08:00.002-04:00

i wish i were writing something more exciting, but right now i'm feeling rather uncharitable toward the world at large. i'm exhausted from my travels and working 14 hour days, and i would feel better about that if i could imagine this frenzied pace might slow a bit. but i'm discouraged by how much i have to do in the next few weeks, preparing for a class i'll be teaching every monday evening from 7:00 to 10:00, writing a syllabus for my spring course, working on my ghirlandaio chapter, heading back to new york for the gift show, and don't forget regular work as well...i'm just a bit overwhelmed and frustrated and annoyed. i was looking at all the things i might write about this morning, and i just couldn't work up enough enthusiasm to do them justice. i'll wait for a better day.

mi dispiace.

2009-08-05T00:27:00.001-04:00

hello friends. contrary to what my recent lack of posting suggests, i have not dropped off the face of the planet. i'm just working. a lot. and i just spent 36 hours in new york buying at the accessories circuit. can i just say the orla kiely booth was unbelievable? her dress forms were made of her own fabric. le sigh. i'll hopefully get back to business soon. xoxo.

an ode to flat-faced dogs, part trois.

2009-07-29T13:29:00.002-04:00

okay, so i've basically already forced everyone who reads this blog to watch this video, but since i watch it approximately three times per day, i thought it would be worth preserving here. i found it via cute overload.

book love.

2009-07-27T12:11:00.013-04:00

as you may be aware, i am practically incapable of cooking. it's not like i want to be that way, it's just that i am too tightly wound to get all free-spirited in the kitchen. i don't like making mistakes or do-overs. plus i live alone, and that does not bode well for any baked goods that might issue from my kitchen. well, it bodes well for the baked goods but not for my hips. still, i love a good cookbook. and by good i mean it must be lavishly illustrated and devoid of detailed instructions for deboning some piece of meat. tessa kiros's apples for jam may be my favorite cookbook OF ALL TIME. i cannot wait for her newest book, venezia, to come out in september.

who could resist those red shoes on the cover? and yes, m.d., you'll notice a surprisingly pleasant combination of pink and red. this cookbook is a combination of recipes and memories, and it is organized by color, which is pretty much the snazziest thing ever.
here are some more snapshots of its interior.

each chapter starts with a list of recipes for that color and a photo or two. here's brown with a photo of the family dog and a few doodles by tessa's children.

and then each chapter has a memory for that color. and here you see a chocolate loaf. a LOAF OF CHOCOLATE, people.

i love this photo combination. that's raspberry ripple ice cream from the stripes chapter. (and the vertical stripes in the photo are courtesy of my blinds.)

um, yeah. i don't think i need to say anything here.

there are little passages of handwritten text throughout the book, and i love tessa's script. they're often paired with the children's illustrations. the kids are given credit on the title page with this endearing notation "illustrations by the mice." i love it, almost as much as i love these little horses.

what it comes down to is that i want to show you all the photographs and illustrations and recipes in this book, but that's not exactly feasible. so please go buy it so we can gush over it endlessly. thanks, and you never know, maybe i'll get all crazy in the kitchen as a result of tessa kiros's cookbook genius.

inherited no. 3

2009-07-24T11:32:00.007-04:00

grandmother, katherine, and me
(i'm the one wearing the sweatband, yes, i said sweatband.)

my grandmother was probably my first best friend. hers was the second phone number i learned, after my own, and i loved to call her and discuss the merits of sesame street. besides spoiling me completely rotten, what i remember most about my grandmother was long conversations about whatever suited our fancy. when i spent the night my grandaddy was relegated to the guest bedroom, and she and i would stay up late trading words in the dark, in the same house that my father had nearly burned down as a teenager. (he wasn't kidding about coming home shooting and yelling.) my grandmother died in 1994, when i was twelve, and the loss seems somehow magnified with each passing year. how i would love to dial 236-6182 and hear her voice on the other end! i want to have the luxury of knowing her as a person, not just as my grandmother. i have a few things that help me out in this department, and one of my favorites is this, her box of rembrandt pastels, which i never knew existed until after her death. (and i am thankful to m.d. for noticing them and bringing them home when we cleaned out her house.)

the box is wooden and stained and clearly BEAUTIFUL. there's even a little dutchman sitting in the corner holding a pastel the size of his body. why don't pastels come in such snazzy packaging these days? even more lovely than the outside, though, is the inside:

there are rows of dusty pastels, tattered wrappers and broken bits, well worn by time and use. when i was little i knew my grandmother liked to draw, but it wasn't until she was gone that i came to understand that it was more than just a hobby. she studied and read and practiced and filled notebooks with directives, and now that i'm older, now that i know how dear drawing is to my own heart, it is comforting to think that there is yet another thread of kinship stringing us together. she and i, you see, we would still be best friends. i leave you with my favorite photo of muriel, in happy days.

sweet treat

2009-07-20T22:09:00.003-04:00

sometimes you just need to watch something that makes you feel warm and fuzzy. feist, on sesame street, with penguins, monsters, and chickens. love.

an ode to flat-faced dogs, part deux.

2009-07-20T13:26:00.003-04:00

image from silocurb's etsy shop

oh how i wish i had snagged this little frenchie figurine from silocurb's etsy shop. i saw it, favorited it, and then it was gone. i'm not normally a fan of figurines, but this one is just too perfect. luckily, the listing indicated it was made by erphila in germany, so i am always on the lookout for another one. one day, little pup, you will be mine.

a to the z...p is for pollaiuolo!

2009-07-18T20:48:00.006-04:00

so, we all know that i like art, and i like systems of order. that means i was thinking i might do a little alphabet-based series of my favorite artists, because that is SO original. watch out, sister wendy. as i was thinking about the artists i might choose, i started to get overwhelmed. i mean, how am i to choose between bellmer, balla, botticelli, and bernini? and that's just the first four "b" names i came up with. i am therefore trying to narrow it down a bit by choosing artists whose work has profoundly affected me in some way. like in a walk into the gallery and want to die from awesomeness kind of way. and because i don't feel like writing about any of my "a" options, i'm getting a little crazy with it and starting with "p." (does this make using the alphabet kind of pointless?)

p is a nice letter. you know what starts with p? pollaiuolo. yeah, sesame street, you just try and sound that one out. take that, elmo. anyway, want to see what pollaiuolo looks like?

image from wright, the pollaiuolo brothers

before i assault you with a description of how jaw-dropping this work is, i just want to say that i scanned this image out of a ten-pound tome, and it was all for YOU. on to our pal antonio, who never receives the credit he is due, poor man. p was rocking it in the late fifteenth century in florence, and to be honest, i never thought that much about him until i was studying drawings at the uffizi and this one landed on the table in front of me. i loved it from the moment i saw it, and i continue to fight for its relevance with a vehemence i never thought i'd feel for pollaiuolo. please, dear and beloved reader, please click on the image so you can at least see it larger for a moment. then come back to me so that i can tell you that each line is almost incised into the paper, sketchy but sure, executed with a rapidity rarely found in drawing of this time. the subject matter helps, it's saint john the baptist, all decked out in his animal skins, looking, um, ascetic to say the least. the stroke of the pen, the quickness of the hand mirror the intense emotional tenor of the saint -- the image almost seems to vibrate. if you could only see the density of lines in the face, if you could see the way the tiniest dashes of ink create a face that is read as rugged and worn from the elements and the passage of time. this drawing rocks my world not just because it's aesthetically pleasing, but also because it's the kind of drawing that you can feel being drawn, you can see pollaiuolo thinking on the page, the hand and the mind skirmishing a bit, a little here, a little there. to have this drawing sitting on the table in front of me, in the city of its making, with nothing but the sacred air of the uffizi to separate us, is practically a religious experience for me. for a moment my pen could be pollaiuolo's. i am home, i understand.

and now you see why i'm writing a dissertation on this whole business, because obviously i can't shut up. if i keep at it, no one is going to read this blog, even people who are obligated to read it. i am talking to you, m.d. forgive me, i just love it so, and that can't be a bad thing, right?

soundtrack: matt & kim; sophie chewing on her bone

the stewart girls

2009-07-17T12:28:00.002-04:00

after my sister katherine was born, my mom, sister, and i were collectively known as the stewart girls. we did everything together. my mom was even crazy enough to take two children under the age of ten on extremely long road trips by herself. it's a good thing i was there to be annoyingly bossy. right now my sister is visiting my mom in alabama, and i wish i were there.

as to the above photograph, i never gave much thought to the massive map that was plastered on our living room wall when i was little, but now i think it must have been pretty awesome. luckily you are not being subjected to any visual evidence of the burnt orange crush velvet pit group on which we are sitting. also, see that quilt i'm snuggling with lovingly? yeah, that disappeared, and someone claims to have no knowledge of its fate. hmm. please note the adorableness of sleeping katherine aka katosaurus rex.

anxiously awaiting...

2009-07-15T21:04:00.002-04:00

the posting of this print on giant robot's webshop:

(photo from boygirlparty)

i love, love, love the way susie ghahremani draws. it's a boston terrier on a bike with a cat in his basket and they are wearing SCARVES. it seriously gives me the warm fuzzies.

inherited no. 2

2009-07-13T21:21:00.004-04:00

my father, wearing some really unfortunate pants

as i was considering what sorts of things i might include among this collection of inheritances, i realized the list was getting quite long (and grows still). which is a nice feeling, actually, to be surrounded by things that once belonged to people i love. i thought i might begin with a most meager of inheritances, a letter from my father to his parents, scrawled in little boy cursive handwriting on tissue thin tracing paper. i should also say that, somewhere along the line, i became the treasurer of all the family photos and documents. not because my mom didn't want them, but because i pretty much demanded control of any material goods that preserved our familial history. (and now they're all labeled and filed away in acid free envelopes with family trees hand drawn on the back. and no, i don't need therapy.) i can't imagine life without all of these smelly old papers and crinkled photographs. if i didn't have them, i wouldn't be able to post embarrassing photos of my father on the internets.

this letter from camp reads: "dear father and mother, i am enjoying my stay here. i bought myself [a] davy crockett t-shirt and two dragnet pistols. [ed. note: pistols?!?] monday i rode ponys [sic]. tuesday i rode [a] pony and went to a picnic. wensday [sic] i went to stone mountain and the zoo. i took pictures of stone mountain and the animals in the zoo. i am a member of the davy crockett club. because davy came to atlanta. i am also a member of the dragnet club. i will bring doug [ed. note: his older brother] something back if i can. your loving son, scott p.s. i'll be coming home shooting and yelling."

ah, just what every parent wants to hear. also please note the artfully drawn floral motif directly above this threatening postscript. i love this letter, of course in part because it's a window into my father's childhood, and who doesn't enjoy that? but it's also that my father's letters to me when i was a child are one of the few things i have left of him. i can confirm that his correspondence remained charming and spunky, even forty years after he penned this epistle to his parents.

and because it's awesome, here is my father mounting what appears to be a triceratops:

i am feeling a bit self-indulgent (i guess i should feel that way by virtue of having a blog), but feel free to rein me in if i get too indulgent. xoxo.

an ode to flat-faced dogs, part one.

2009-07-12T21:14:00.001-04:00

you already know this about me, but i'll say it anyway: i love flat-faced dogs. boston terriers top the list, but i'm also continually charmed by frenchies, pugs, boxers, bulldogs, and any combination thereof. what do you get when you have an obsession with smooshy faces and paper goods? paper goods featuring smooshy faces, such as this painfully adorable letterpress card by sycamore street press:

here it is all framed up and ready to be hung, because i want to look at this EVERY SINGLE DAY. look at that face.

just so we're clear, there are a few reasons why i love the brachycephalic breeds. it all began with the much beloved monsieur mickerdoodle.

that's right, people, mick is here pictured sporting an anthropologie sweater.

two of my greatest loves, mister puppy and hedgie.

and then came romey-roo, the dearest of dears.

sorry, i realize the above photo probably caused you to convulse with shock. never fear, it's just milo the kilo. he has a complex about his flat face and once tried to take off my nose to level the playing field.

and then there was sophie aka soph-a-doph. forty pounds of flat-faced goodness.

sometimes she's a bit of a coy critter.

don't worry, as much as i enjoy captioning photographs of my pets with ridiculous dialogue, i will not morph into a doggyblogger. i just thought we'd get the introductions out of the way. stay tuned for additional odes. xoxo.

listening to: regina spektor, 'dance anthem of the 80s'

coeur de pirate love

2009-07-10T20:32:00.002-04:00

i love coeur de pirate intensely. i very rarely know about what she's singing, but no matter...here she is covering 'umbrella' with julien dore. lovely, lovely.

inherited no. 1

2009-07-07T21:42:00.004-04:00

as i was thinking about things we might discuss, i realized i would really like to document all the amazing things i've inherited over the course of my twenty-seven years. it would be nice if i could pretend that things aren't really that important, but the truth is, i LOVE my material possessions, especially ones that have a history. really, the idea of cataloging my inheritances satisfies two desires, the first being to talk about beloved objects, the other to document, document, document. my grandfather was a genealogist, and it seems that his tendency to research, organize, and preserve was most definitely passed down. so, here is my first inheritance, and one that has taken way too long to become functional.

suffice to say that i am not the best photographer in the world. (attention m.d. aka mommerdoodle, why is this so yucky? please assist.) suzannah, my employer and friend, gave me this little turquoise lamp awhile back. isn't it darling? but it didn't have a shade, and that presented a problem that ballooned into "the neverending and absolutely ingratiating quest for a lampshade with appropriate parts." finally i ordered a burlap lampshade from one of our vendors, thinking this would be perfetto. yeah, measuring first would have been good. the lampshade was way too tall for this petite little lamp, here accompanied by a crispina recycled sweater chick and kata golda turtle tea cup. i don't think of myself as someone who typically goes ninja on household projects, but i got a wild hair and started decimating the lampshade. basically, i shortened it, which entailed purchasing double fold bias tape and approximately seven different types of adhesive. it's not perfect, but its imperfections are fairly negligible, which means i can finally use this lamp! it's only been lying dormant in my closet for a year. i should go ninja more often.

i heart marimekko.

2009-07-05T20:51:00.010-04:00

most cool people love marimekko. as a cool person myself, i can vouch for this. there's this neato shop called always mod, and they claim to be "everything marimekko." they do seem to have every possible marimekko product, from napkins to tshirts, shower curtains to duvet covers, fabric by the yard to keychains. i've never actually been to a brick and mortar store that had this much marimekko, but every summer i usually visit a shop called linn-sui in rome. they have lots of marimekko, and i'm guilty of hauling away tons of it every time i'm there. (of course, i also accidentally bought three bars of 16 euro felted eastern european soap last time. the accident was not knowing i was about to pay approximately $32 for soap.) anyway, back to the subject at hand, marimekko. here's what i'm loving at always mod:

um, i think this is awesome. if i were more inclined towards the ridiculous, i would own this. i mean, it's a giant shark belly. on your bed. but what i seriously want is this in duvet form:

this is probably one of my all time favorite marimekko prints, kaiku. as i am currently searching for a new and PERFECT duvet cover, i would really appreciate it if marimekko could make me one. lest you think i'm being deprived of this particular print, i should admit, in the interest of full disclosure, that i own this shower curtain, tea towel, and mug. but i would gladly sacrifice it all for a duvet cover.

speaking of marimekko mugs, here's one i actually purchased from always mod. i really love this calf design. look how spritely he is.

so stunning. i love how the design maintains the appearance of being hand drawn, the sketchy contour lines of the cows.

i'm very tempted by this kippis tray. i love marimekko trays. don't tell anyone, but i already have two. i picked up a bottna one in rome a few years ago.

egad, egad. i think i must have these kanteleen postcards. i love the folk aesthetic that has pervaded all things designy these days. and the tea towels! oh, how i love tea towels!

always mod, you are frightfully dangerous.

and thank you, helen, my audience of one, for reading. even if you are always my one and only reader, i am glad to be documenting these things that i love, and i'm glad you are here. also, remember how some blogs used to have a little "listening to" part of each post? well, here's mine:

listening to: thao, we brave bee stings and all

and p.s. all of these photos, less the the calf mug perched atop gone with the wind, are borrowed in a friendly way from www.alwaysmod.com.

your love saves my day

2009-07-04T21:02:00.004-04:00

i'm off to an impressive start here, but i feel certain this momentum is not sustainable.

so i sort of have this problem, it's an etsy problem. more specifically it's that i have 69 pages of favorite sellers. it's obscene, and i really mean that. still, despite having more favorite sellers than i know what to do with, i have a few favorites among the favorites, such as pearl and marmalade. hello, awesome name. here's my most recent purchase:

painfully adorable is the only acceptable way to describe this letterpress print. every time i see it, it saves my day.

is this thing on?

2009-07-04T13:22:00.003-04:00

i am admittedly a bit late to this game. i've considered having a blog before and even went so far as to set one up a few years ago. it was called paper and polaroids. i never posted a single time, and then polaroid stopped making film. it seemed a bit disingenuous to have a blog whose title suggested there were going to be polaroids, when, in fact, there were increasingly few polaroids.

so i'm giving this a whirl now, mostly because i'm inspired by my pals' blogs, a pocket novel and the museum cupboard. these are two of my dearies in real life, and really, who wouldn't want to be like them? i am a total copycat. it's a good thing they sort of like me.

one of the biggest reasons i haven't ever blogged is because i am intimidated by the idea of coming up with a good blog name. that's right, i exiled myself from the blogosphere over a title. over the past couple of weeks i have been considering coming out of exile, and then this morning as i looked around my room and pondered witty phrases that might somehow describe me in a limited number of characters, i knew exactly what i wanted to be called on the internets. nevermind that some french blog already had my url, i was not deterred. so here i am, no day without a line. don't be frightened, it seems highly unlikely that i will actually post a line here everyday, but "no day without a line" is one of my favorite combinations of words in the whole wide world. it comes from pliny's natural history, when he's getting down with the ancient artists and writing about how apelles never let a day pass without drawing a line. this is exactly how i want to live my life (and since i'm about to start my seventh year of graduate school, how i *need* to live my life). you can take the phrase to mean all manner of things, but in the end it reminds me to never let a day pass without remembering what i love, whether that means typing out sentences for the dissertation or writing a postcard to a friend. no day without a line.

let's see what happens, shall we?