the city of roses

The weekend was spent away, breathing in the fresh air and musty books of the fine city of Portland. Now I am back, invigorated by polka dot tiles, ginkgo trees, and dusky brick-lane walks with one of the best.

rhythms & weaves

The days disentangle in kaleidoscopic rays of light and dark. Brilliance collides with blackness as I attempt to weave together the circadian cycles of my newly illuminated habitats. I've long been absent from this space, but sometimes we need silence before sound––a chance to gain clarity, arranging the pieces just so in the hopes to achieve a higher harmony...

Images (in order of appearance): A sampling of endpapers from my new/old set of The Golden Home and High School Encyclopedia, circa 1960; Vertical Change by Bjorn Copeland; Golden encyclopedia exteriors; and, Red and Blue Layers by the legendary Anni Albers.

simple scraps

Sifting through the swatches of so many patterned past lives, my fingertips yearn to grasp onto any tangible proof of a future fulfilled; a simple scrap to wipe away the mere illusions of interwoven intimacies, and remind the crescent lines within my palms that the tomorrow will indeed be bright. 

Tonight, we need some forest fairies, otherwise known as a First Aid Kit. 

perpetually patterned

These days have passed. I've pounded streets, in the same manner as the rest. Eyes down. Left dragging right. Left with right. Repeat. This is a life of perpetual patterns, of the unwavering absence of an atrium beat, of the pretending underneath a nest of sheets, of the fleeting visions of a technicolor reality, wherein your eyes are always illuminated.

These days have passed. Your kaleidoscopic face, it presses. Printed seductive in four-color process. Dyed permanent into the bedtime blanket that I toss aside in the morning, and crawl back underneath by the night that is certain to fall. 

"The mind is like a richly woven tapestry in which the colors are distilled from the experiences of the senses, and the design drawn from the convolutions of the intellect." --Carson McCullers

the makings of me

Try to improvise, make without over-thinking, think about making, make something out of nothing. And, repeat. 

A constant busying of the fingers is substantially therapeutic, and sometimes beautiful things can happen through fortuitous encounters with paper scraps and office supplies. 

midday shadowplay

Otto fetches cicadas as I dust the dirt off my knees and slurp down the last few minutes of these waning Summer days. Goodbye Summer, hello Fall, its back to work for one and all...

midsummer daydreams

I crouch in the grass as the lavender paints the sky, pretending the blades of green are taller than I, and gazing at the rays of a kaleidoscopic sun, I devour this moment of midsummer calm, making sunprints with fairies and fawns....

"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, 

Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows

Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,

With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine:

There sleeps Titania some time of the night,

Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;

And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,

Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in."

- William Shakespeare

made in scandinavia

In 100 degree city heat, the beads of sweat cling to my chest in a now familiar pattern: a map of the zig-zagged blocks i have walked to reach my destination. Earth, it seems, has shortened the circumference of its orbit, and surely shines but inches away.  My pocketbook cannot spare a $2 subway ride, and so i trek on, ever forward, to...Scandinavia house! The Nordic Center of America! I breathe in that precise air of the Finns and the Nords, the Icelanders, the Danes, and the Swedes, and am chilled by the beauty, the precision, the divinity, the cold mystique of those faraway lands. 

ºººLimbo Lamp for Petur, an installation by Olafur Eliasson, and Manhattan textile pattern by Josef Franckººº

curious coincidences in pattern land

Such fantastic bits of inspiration and Minnesotan flour history were discovered recently at the Mill City Museum–definitely an under-appreciated gem along the falls of St. Anthony...
Wheat was first ground into flour using millstones, which were built in various patterns in order to most effectively grind and separate the kernels. And oh how pristine they are as graphic symbols!
Elana's perfectly patterned froth from a recent visit to Chicago's famous Metropolis Cafe. Oh! And all of these reminded me of this...
Cocoa powder patterns send my heart all a-flutter. Older work by Graphic Thought Facility, for Mark & Spencer's Café Revive–some truly lovely work. Thanks GTF! 

experimentation with application

On a snowy Monday I am reminded of the simple pleasures of creation, experimentation, & application.  Magic can be found in the pure lucidity of making and giving and receiving.