Love these illustrations. Wish I knew who drew them. I wonder why illustrators are always credited on Editorial sites and in print, but are never credited on commercial sites, or in advertisements.
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Paradise.
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Now here's a good word, from Gravity's Rainbow: velleity 1. the lowest level of volition. 2. a mere wish unaccompanied by the action or effort to obtain it.
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Art and music is on par with food and sleep in my personal sustenence regimen. Sitting here listening to Neutral Milk Hotel after an excellent night of sleep full of flying dreams. Got a lot of painting done last night, which I haven't been able to do for weeks.

An interesting article about sound sculpture by a guy named Trimpin. A huge tower of self-playing guitars, and a sculptor and inventor not interested in the millions a patent on his "fiber optic pickups" would bring.
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Going painting. Had too much computer the past few days. Seeya mañana.
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I'm canning Gravity's Rainbow. 300 pages in and I'm completely bogged down. Even endured that horrible coprophagy scene. Hasta la vista. Now I gotta get that copy of Harry Potter from my neighbor.
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Whenever I feel like complaining about my job pushing pixels around and staring into the void of the cathode ray, I look out my window at my local corner store where the lights are always on, and Nick, the proprietor, works every day from 8 until 10, seven days a week, 365 days a year. He's never closed, not on Christmas, not on New Year's, not on his birthday, never, as far as I can tell. Sometimes he stays open until 11. He comes from Jordan, and hasn't been back to visit his family in years. He has a son who is three, named Danny, and his wife, Leila, helps out sometimes too. Danny used to be shy, but now is bold. Nick drives up from Daly City, where he lives, and says the commute takes a half an hour to 45 minutes a day. Those people who look at my receipt at Safeway and say, "Thank you Miss...Fake." can keep their cornflakes. I'm shopping at Bell's Food Market.

On days when my door is open, George, the mailman, says, "Still sitting at your computer? Get away from that thing! Take a break!". On rainy days he says he wishes he had my job, and on sunny days I say I wish I had his job. He says he likes the part of his job that involves delivering the mail, but hates being back at the office where they sort the mail, where there are people who give him a hard time. He says the post office sometimes sends out people to watch the mail carriers on their routes, who just park their cars and spy on them. He's a single dad and has two daughters, who are 9 and 11, is raising them all alone.
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You know, I really love Sleater-Kinney. I think theirs are some of the best shows I've ever seen.

Dig me out, dig me out -- as the words were chanted in Dolores Park, chanted as if they were the whole of the language Sleater-Kinney was speaking, you could in the instant feel buried by the social question, by the money that was changing the city and that you would never have, buried by whatever you feared was set against you in the world at large.

I usually don't expect to go to the New York Times to read about them. Greil Marcus, author of the piece, apparently recognizes this too, since his next book is called "Double Trouble: Bill Clinton and Elvis Presley in a Land of No Alternatives" . No alternatives, huh.
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A passage from The Voyage Out by Virginia Woolf, from the article I mentioned below:

October was well advanced, but steadily burning with a warmth that made the early months of the summer appear very young and capricious. Great tracts of the earth lay now beneath an autumn sun, and the whole of England, from the bald moors to the Cornish rocks, was lit up from dawn to sunset, and showed in stretches of yellow, green, and purple. Under that illumination even the roofs of the great towns glittered. In thousands of small gardens, millions of dark-red flowers were blooming, until the old ladies who had tended them so carefully came down the paths with their scissors, snipped through their juicy stalks, and laid them upon cold stone ledges in the village church. Innumerable parties of picnickers coming home at sunset cried, "Was there ever such a day as this?" "It's you," the young men whispered; "Oh, it's you," the young women replied. All old people and many sick people were drawn, were it only for a foot or two, into the open air, and prognosticated pleasant things about the course of the world. As for the confidences and expressions of love that were heard not only in cornfields but in lamplit rooms, where the windows opened on the garden, and men with cigars kissed women with gray hairs, they were not to be counted. Some said that the sky was an emblem of the life they had had; others that it was the promise of the life to come. Long-tailed birds clattered and screamed, and crossed from wood to wood, with golden eyes in their plumage.

Does anyone know of any good sites for logo/corporate identity design? I haven't been able to turn up any good ones in my various searches.
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A good article in Salon about Virginia Woolf by Michael Cunningham. I haven't read any Woolf since a high school foray into Mrs. Dalloway, but am inspired to read her again after reading this essay.
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Last night there were a bunch of very tall drag queens on very high heels gingerly making their way down my very steep street, and late at night, around 2 in the morning, a couple of guys were rapping freestyle on the corner, who were really, really good.
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Following a link from the Vermont cabin story below, I found the Real Goods site, which has all kinds of interesting off-the-grid products like non-electric refrigerators and composting toilets, solar powered golf carts and water turbines to generate power. Neat-o!
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I was skeptical about going to the Wayne Thiebaud exhibit at the Legion of Honor today. I'd thought of him as a "kitchen artist" -- kind of decorative art that works well as posters, lots of cakes and pies in bright pastel hues. But he turned out to be a lot more interesting than I had initially thought: a unique use of color, flat swatches of pasty paint that looks a lot like icing, and a series of flattened view of hilly cities, brilliantly colored and planar.

Commonly thought of as a Pop artist, his stuff is friendlier, less ironic or critical of it's content than the rest of the movement. I'd recommend this show. It will be travelling to the Whitney in New York, and to Washington DC after its stint here in San Francisco.
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I've always wanted a little cabin in Vermont. I've also dreamed of converting a barn in Vermont -- the rural equivalent of a loft.

Things in my neighborhood are a little crazy because it is Gay Pride Weekend. There is a large pink triangle painted on Twin Peaks. Derek said his cab driver told him hotels were booked solid from here to Santa Cruz.

There is no parking, anywhere. Dozens of cars full of celebrants keep passing by, looking for a spot in my usually somnolent neighborhood. I doubt I'll be able to get a cab, and even if I did, we wouldn't be able to get across Market. I may have to walk to the party in the Mission...I'm certainly not unparking my car!
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i-jusi I like this! Chunky text on an empty page. Made in South Africa, I think.
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My favorite webcam, at least since Hua Mei started growing up.

Visitors can watch three of Andy Goldsworthy's thirteen giant snowballs from pre-millennium Scotland melt away on a midsummer's day in the city of London and the reactions of passers-by as wood, stone, berries, Highland cow hair and chalk are slowly exposed when the snow melts in the heat of the city. View Andy Goldswothy's project Snowballs in Summer between June 22nd - 28th.
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There are plenty of weird pictures of Bill Gates, but this one makes him look like a carnival hawker. You must be this tall to go on this ride. And what is that big silver thing in the foreground?

I'm pretty skeptical about this microsoft.net thing.
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Abbi writes to say thatYour Astrological Sign is Not What You Think. I am now a Gemini. Which is a good thing because my Gemini horoscope says "You may be called to distant shores." whereas my Cancer horoscope says, "You may be counting on unreliable sources of income now." Which, since I am waiting for a few big checks, is not good news.
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I feel as if I am losing momentum on Gravity's Rainbow, with all these other books singing their siren songs... Must. Read. Pynchon. I got my biography of Athanasius Kircher in the mail today, and am sorely tempted...it has lots of pictures, is slim, and I still have over 500 densely packed pages of Pynchon to go.

I've read Bruno Schulz recently, and Lewis Nordan, both evocative writers, but in the end clumsy and falling short. Aspiring to more than they're capable of, but pure hearted, sincere. And then comes Pynchon and Martin Amis, both masterful but with such ugly-souled people wandering around their books. It's discouraging. But as Amis says, 'Happiness writes white.'
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I've been reading Gravity's Rainbow, but slowly, slowly. I'm now at the part where Slothrop has just left the South of France and is in Zurich, trying to get his bearings.

Such a dark, paranoid book. An army of lovers can be beaten And I think one of the earliest uses of "pornography" to describe capitalist yearnings, war, which people use constantly these days. Pynchon says:

"It's true," Vanya now, "look at the forms of capitalist expression. Pornographies: pronographies of love, erotic love, Christian love, boy-and-his-dog, pornographies of sunsets, pornographies of killing, and pornographies of deduction -- ahh, that sigh when we guess the murderer -- all these novels, these films and songs they lull us with, they're approaches, more comfortable and less so, to that Absolute Comfort."

The use of the word "pornography" is a kind of capitalist blasphemy to describe the perversion of the "folk-consciousness" the "preterite" that is powerless, voiceless, beneath the machineries of control that the war-makers operate.
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Ah, a new day. Like the first day of school: clean notebook, sharpened pencils. Given another chance!
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Aw, gee. The universe is smiling upon me. More surprise funds, just like the horoscope said. I just got a bunch of grapefruits from my landladies, and a gift certificate to Trader Joe's in appreciation for watering their plants. As if it were any trouble at all.
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Manoman, this Paypal micropayments thing is catching on! I just got a dollar from Michael !! Muchas Gracias!! Perhaps it is to cheer me up from my bad mood this morning (Stewart also offered me some reasons to be happy and some Canadian chocolate) and maybe it's just in the stars:

Cancer
Horoscope
Get ready for surprise funds that come your way.

I actually feel much better now, thanks to a trip to the gym, some chocolate and Michael, Stewart, Shana and Serena.

You beautiful people you.
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Edwin Hubble, the guy that discovered that a) there were other galaxies besides the Milky Way and b) that the universe was expanding is commemorated here at the HubbleSite. Lots of pictures of faraway places, to which I will be travelling if this malaise doesn't lift by the end of the day today. (Cf. entries below.) Mars anyone? There's also a news story about the first recreational space traveller somewhere, but I'm too grumpy to go find it.
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Agh. Heavy weltschmerz! what an evil world it seems to be today. Even the San Francisco fog, which often seems friendly like a warm blanket, seems today like a creeping miasma.
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This story of the would-be Chinese immgrants dead in a truck in Britain has really been haunting me the past couple of days. They apparently had trekked through Russia and the Czech republic, and overland to the Netherlands, where they boarded the truck in which they suffocated.
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Life on Mars? NASA to announce in Science magazine evidence of water on Mars. David Bowie songs are going through my head.
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I was up today in the Nob Hill section of San Francisco, where I haven't been for a long time. That part of town seems so complacent, European. Being there reminded me of all the times I wrote in cafes when I was staying with my sister Corey at her apartment on Russian Hill. Every day seemed to be one long, languorous afternoon. I had few responsibilities, a laughable job, and time to read and think. I really miss those days, especially now, working at a start-up, too much to do, no time to reflect.
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Yes, I too got 25c from Dinah via Paypal. Thank you! On her log she suggests all of us sending micropayments to the sites we like that don't have advertising on them, to support them. I think it's a great idea. Long live micropayments! I use them all the time to read back articles on the NY Times site. And I've been using Paypal too to distribute money to friends for group events.
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The Daguerreian Society and the Daguerreotype. Beautiful old pictures from the mid nineteenth century. Everyone looks so uncomfortable, courteous, proud and dignified. The look as if they have serious concerns. They look as if fun is scarce in their experience, and laughter. They look respectful and honest and maybe a little chilly, but that might be because they had to sit still for so long, brace themselves for ten long minutes.
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More grotty handmade web art to look at and enjoy: TINA GONSALVES. There's something magical about the evidence of the work of the hand in digital art.
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More online imagery from my favorite local photographer: >>TODD HIDO<< (see also my entry below about Todd Hido) His work can be seen at the Stephen Wirtz gallery in San Francisco.
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Athanasius Kircher. My latest fascination.

Lovely day in San Francisco today, and I got my work done early enough so that I could go to the gym. And who was there but Heather reading the brand new People magazine, which she promptly handed over when she was done. So I too could read all about Celine Dion's pregnancy. Oooh boy. Saved me from a half an hour of the New Yorker!!!
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I've been hearing from everyone that Shockheaded Peter is a must-see. "The demented childrens stories of Heinrich Hoffmann's Strewwelpeter, mated with the twisted music of The Tiger Lillies. Shocking songs of naughty girls and boys, cautionary tales to chill the blood..." sort of Edward Gorey-esque. (may he rest in peace.) Two people mentioned it to me this weekend, and I've been reading dark Victorian fairy tales (most notably Speaking Likenesses by Christina Rossetti) this week too. Synchronicity.
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Have been spending a lot of time this week hanging out with my former college roommate Alex, in town from New York to promote his new line of clothing. San Francisco ladies, if you happen to be at Sybil's on Haight or 6 Brady, look for a label by Alex Reiter.
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Ah, a lovely day in Marin building Andy Goldsworthy type things on Muir Beach. I sorted rocks by color and arranged them in a circular formation, Robin built a little rotunda made of smooth, pear-shaped stones. We spent a couple hours building them, and when we were finished , he photographed them. They're meditative to build, much as I imagine those Tibetan monk's sand mandalas and butter mandalas to be: knowing that what you're creating is impermanent changes the act into something not goal-oriented but pleasurable in and of itself. The distinction between work and play become blurred.
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It's Your Movie They're billing this as the "World's First Interactive Movie" but that's crap. I've seen half a dozen of these in the past few years. Maybe they should call it the "World's First Commercially Funded Interactive Movie" or the "World's First Interactive Movie directed by Simon Beaufoy".

Bad acting. Bad script...but then the idea of "interactive" is contrary to the idea of "movie"... at least to my mind.
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One of the people honored with a Macarthur Fellowship this year was Samuel Mockbee, an architect who runs the Rural Studio in Hale County Alabamba, which has a 35.4% rate of poverty. Mockbee's architectural students create homes for the residents of Hale County, often utilizing unusual materials such as tires, scrap wood and bales of hay. An amazing and admirable endeavor.

The thing that distinguishes Mockbee's work from the rest of the Macarthur recipients is that his work has tangible, easily quantifiable results. I don't want to suggest that the work of the other award winners has any less of an impact, but Mockbee's contributions are easy for the average citizen to understand, whereas biomolecular computing and behavioral economics are a bit beyond our grasp.

Gee, I've been full of links the past few days. Click here for Koneisto a site for an electronica arts festival in Turku Finland, and an upcoming hobbies and arts page, and a free cubic font.
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And auditory overheard version of New York can be found here at overSPOKEN-underHEARD by a Dutch artist, Gabriëlle Marks.
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Thank you, Heather, for showing me that little "safe mode" thang on Blogger...I'm all warm and fuzzy with community feeling. Hey, and I second your shout out to whoever's not updating their People magazine donations at the gym. I've been forced to read Sports Illustrated on one or two occasions...I think I'll bring in some Martha Stewart Livings, which started appearing in my mailbox, addressed to a certain "Barbara Rogers" whoever she is. She is probably somewhere fretting over her window treatments...
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EDGE: MIRROR NEURONS From the venerable edge.org, a furtherence of the thought of Julian Jaynes, sent to me by lopati (thanks!) and which I haven't yet read, though I hope to get back to it and give it a thorough read when I'm less swamped. (This weekend? Let's aspire to, though I'm going to be in my studio painting...i hope i hope i hope.)
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By Eric! sent to me by Eric. Wow. Blogger doesn't seem to want me to post his URL!
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Actually, the entire parent site of the link below is an exercise is random beauty. Such beautiful script on the first page! Be sure to look at it: conclave  obscvrvm The navigation is pretty obscure, but persist to see some lovely things.

My faulty HTML coding seems to have rendered the post below uneditable...it ends "...sent to me by Eric. A lovely, random, non-interactive webthing.
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desperanzza sent to me by Eric -- random, lovely, non-interactive.
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The MacArthur winners have been announced, the so-called "genius" grants. I find these lists interesting, seeing whose work is valued and why. I'm not sure when this news was released, it may have been a while ago...
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From Micah in Canada I received the following (quoted by permission); I wish I were able to respond intelligently; but since it's been years since I've read the book, I remember only the broad strokes, and not the fine points. I'll have to get the copy of the book back from my parent's house.

I've also read the Bicameral Mind. I think the theory itself is plausible, but he's emphasising the wrong evidence. I can't read Greek or Sumerian (I modestly admit) but there is absolutely nothing in the English versions I've read of Gilgamesh nor of the Iliad that suggest a bicameral mind at all, at all. Works not too far removed from the Iliad, such as the younger Pliny's personal letters are embarrassingly modern, to my mind. I've had days and thoughts almost exactly mirroring his, 1900 years ago (Yes, I know - 800 years after Homer). Other period writings, like the laws set down by Hammurabi seem to imply that people know what they're doing and have personal control over it. The same can be said about the Rig Veda, or the books of Moses which although weren't written until comparatively recently were supposedly part of oral tradition for a substantial period of time. Okay, gods and other equally non-communicative entities/objects do give orders but then the people involved think, consider, and often disobey the divine edicts. Even if the bicameral mind hypothesis were true of the Gilgamesh stories, that was only 6,000 years ago and evolution doesn't give enough time for this trait to get adequately dispensed to the more isolated human populations. If the change from bicameral to monocameral minds is not physical (which is the stand he takes, if remember correctly) then one would think that explorers from monocameral societies encountering people from bicameral societies would notice such a significant difference in perception.

Today was one of the hottest days in recent memory here in San Francisco. And I was sick. Terribly unpleasant, but I slept from about 1 until 8, and when I woke up, it had cooled slightly and I felt much much better.

And thought about the time I'd been sick while travelling alone through Brasil. Nothing is worse than being sick alone, far from home, in a place where you don't speak the language and there is no one to look after you. It was one of the worst times of my life.
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From Journal E: Media Lab: The Boys of Bundy Cottage by Joe Weiss. A beautifully photographed piece of multimedia about the boys at an orphanage in North Carolina.

Journal E seems to be some kind of promotional site from Kodak. As corporate sites go, it's a good one.
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Through Sylloge I was introduced to the thought of Stephen Toulmin, and his remarkable essay The Inwardness of Mental Life. He says there that the states that we think of as being inward such as attitudes and beliefs, secrets, fantasies and the things we keep back when we "keep our own counsel" are not inherently inward, but derive primarily from societal or interpersonal input. Beautifully articulated and arrayed.

This idea interests me greatly, for I've deliberately attempted to develop an "inner language" by the memorization of large amounts of poetry, that I might learn it "by heart", forget it, and yet become imbued by it., believing poetry to be a kind of perfected language. With the same goals, I've become a re-reader as well as a reader. This odd and time-consuming habit aligns well with this essay by Toulmin.

This essay also brought to mind a book that I'd read years ago, led to it obliquely by James Merrill,The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown on the Bicameral Mind by Julian Jaynes, one of my favorite philosophical crackpots, up there with Wilhelm Reich. He theorized that many early cultures, including the Sumer, Egyptian and Mycenean, did not possess consciousness as we think of it today, but actually heard (thought) the voices of the gods through auditory and visual hallucinations, as we see manifested in the schizophrenics of today. The reasons for Merrill's attraction to Jaynes were obvious: he was writing an "epic" poem based on the "voices" received through a Ouija board, The Changing Light at Sandover .Here is a good introductory piece on the odd (and suggestive) theories of Julian Jaynes.

Additionally, it brought to mind a piece I'd read recently in the NY Times Magazine by Cynthia Ozick I much admired, called Where to Connect to the Inner Hum which also put this "innerness" externally, in its last refuge: the novel.
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OK, off the art/design/architecture/literature tip for a second for a brief commercial announcement. Just a little plug here for SKIN-E-DIP Silly name, I know, but this is, hands down, the best skin ointment I've ever found, and I have a lot of experience will all kinds of unguents, lotions, creams, salves and ointments. It's magic. I just ordered 12 100g. jars. Seriously. It even strengthens your fingernails. Sunburn, eczema, dry skin, rashes of all descriptions -- people use it on their pets. I love also that it's a Mom and Pop shop, with the picture of Mom and Pop proudly displayed at the top of the page, and a personal email from Stan when your order is filled. They're in Canada.
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Vocabulary from Gravity's Rainbow:

FIBULA: an abnormal duct or passage from an abscess, cavity or hollow organ to the body surface or another hollow organ.

ANNULUS: A ringlike figure, part, structure or marking. (Ah, now I remember where I've seen this word before. Once upon a time I was really into mushrooms. It's not what you're thinking. This particular interest stemmed from a single mushroom encounter in Chatham, NY, where I woke one morning to find an ENORMOUS mushroom that hadn't been there the day before, a Calvatia Gigantea, the size of a cat, which, it turned out, was edible and we cooked it for dinner, sliced, and dipped in batter. Called by some the "tofu of the mushroom world". "Annulus" is the term for the rings of the those field mushrooms you're probably familiar with. Some of these rings are known to be 400 years old. My days as an amateur mycologist ended when an allergist pronounced me deathly allergic to certain fungi and smuts (love that word, smut.). But let me recommend "Mushrooms Demystified", my favorite book on the topic, which is encyclopedic and is also very funny. "Phallus impudicus" is the name of one mushroom, "impudent penis". And "Lycoperdon", the common puffball, means "wolf fart." Who would've thought mycology could be so risque?)

APICAL: of, relating to or located at an apex.
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What a lovely site! with a complete absence of tiny aliased type and striated graphics ! Lundstrom and Associates Architects, Inc.. Of course, I'm one to talk about tiny type.
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The epigraph from Gravity's Rainbow, section one:

Nature does not know extinction; all it knows is transformation. Everything science has taught me, and continues to teach me, strengthens my belief in the continuity of our spiritual existence after death.

-- Werner Von Braun

And from someone's .sig file this morning (The Wizard of Oz features prominently in Gravity's Rainbow):

"Transported to a surreal landscape, a young girl kills the first woman she meets, then teams up with three complete strangers to kill again."

-- TV listing for "The Wizard of Oz" in the Marin Paper

If guns are outlawed, only outlaws will shoot their children accidentally.

And a shout out to Mitsu of synthetic zero for the link. She's got a great site there, with a lot of parallel interests to mine!
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Yup. Giving it another go. Fine Sunday occupation.

• Spermatikos Logos Some introductory pages, and a guide for first time readers, which would include me.
• Britannica's entry on Thomas Pynchon.
• NY Times archives on Thomas Pynchon.

Today I work. Much work to be done. But yesterday, after looking for a Father's Day present with Mark (don't worry, Dad, I'll find something!) and buying some shoes that I need to take back, we went to the SFMOMA to hear Robert Gober speak about his work. Now, Gober has some of the creepiest work around: waxy looking torsos with human hair stuck into them, halves of torsos face down and sticking out of the wall. Bags of donuts. Child-sized chairs with boxes of Kleenex on them and drains underneath. Hearing him speak, Shana didn't think that he really understood his work very well, and I concurred. But there were also two curators there speaking with him, Gary Garrels and Richard Flood, who offered some explanations, often using the word "enigmatic".

The sinks I found to be the most intriguing. I had seen pictures of them in ArtForum and whatnot, but hadn't realized that they were fashioned of plaster; I'd thought they were just ready-mades, Duchamp style. But there was something about the smooth bleakness of them; the holes where the faucets had been, the lack of a drain. The curators spoke of the work as being particularly restrained, especially in view of the "hysterical" early 80s art created in response to the incipient AIDS crisis, when everyone seemed to be sick, but no one knew why.

And also curious and good were the drains Gober built into the walls, and next to some drain drawings was a statement by Gober that said he thought that the drains functioned much like windows in traditional (Renaissance?) art, but were a way of seeing something much more dark and unknown, less seen, less sought.
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Peterme points out that I haven't given Francis Alÿs a fair shake in my comments on the Dia Centers sites below. Check out this very subtle and beautiful screensaver, The Thief

Also, Leslie from Portland, in response to the "No Way" of June 6, points out some even more absurd and bizarre casket sites: artcaskets.com. I really can't believe this Return to Sender one. Very black humor. Does anyone know what Acuna Matata means?

And then there's this odd site: Casket Furniture.
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There is a whole lot of interesting architectural stuff here at SCI-Arc - Southern California Institute of Architecture. Look especially at the student work. Also, they have a great book out: Design Process at Sci-Arc, which is great for anyone interested in architecture, or the creative process. It includes sketches and handwritten notes, as well as blueprints and photographs. I bought it when I worked at Salon, across from the SFMOMA bookstore. Since I stopped working there, I've acquired fewer art books. It was hard for me to be so near that temptation.
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I can't wait to move into our new space! I can't wait! I can't wait! Haven't worked in an office since a year and a half ago when I was at Salon and I've become one of those people in a bathrobe peering out behind a door opened just a crack, scowling at the UPS guy for waking me up at 2pm. New leaf! And I can walk to work!

Up late again, playing with Flash. I will miss working late, sleeping in.
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Gary Simmons: Wake I found this to be one of the most moving pieces of web art I've yet encountered. The oddly haunted and disappearing ballrooms, the tuneless humming of old dance songs, the ephemeral appearance and vacancy evoke a sense of loss. The images reminded me of Hiroshi Sugimoto's prosceniums of empty movie theatres. Amazing what Flash can do when wielded by talent. In contrast, I found this piece, by Francis Alys to be an interesting collection of quotes ( I included the Borges quote below) and an interesting quasi-essay, but not substantially different from a book, and not gaining anything by its translation into "web art."
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"We are living in a time when the ambient noise of technology drowns out the music of meaning"...the redoubtable Nathan Shedroff teams up with Clement Mok and others to start an extension of AIGA, the Advance for Design. For those of you not familiar with his work, Nathan is a respected information designer. Some of his ideas can be found here.
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Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum They have a little Flash movie for their Triennial, and list lots of designers. Frank Gehry, OK, but Geoffrey Beene? Am I clueless, or isn't he the guy that designs really matronly formal wear that Queen Elizabeth might wear?

Moving day today at Yellowball. Took most of the day, and we still can't really work there since we have no phones or internet connection. But it's such a big and beautiful space. I like it, love the neighborhood and can't wait to start working there.
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A journalist once asked Jorge Luis Borges what he thought about space travel. Looking absently out the window, Borges answered that as far as he knew, all travel was in space.
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No way. No way!
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Last night, the Guru Awards. Though I'm no longer freelance, it was good to see how far these guys have come in just a year. Huge site, branch offices all over, 200,000 registered gurus, national advertising campaign. Telstar handing out the awards, quipping all the while.
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The NY Times on the London art scene. Has it replaced New York?: The Weird Fascination of the New is Packing Galleries and Museums
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Love the tiny tininess of it all:flip flop flyin. Be sure to see the thing he built for K10K too, called fun fun fun.
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When I was out for a beer with Kurt and Steen Saturday night, Kurt came up with another item from his seemingly infinite store of trivia and ephemera. He said that "sabot" was the name of wooden shoes in Europe, and thus "sabotage" came from workers throwing their wooden shoes into machinery.
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For the digital booklovers, Octavo: Digital Rare Books a way to enjoy some odd classics without the messy dead trees. I have a couple of these I snagged from working on a job for Octavo, and they're just beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I've got MIcrographia.
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Check out the All girl skate jam! I love this loose, grotty design. You just don't see this anymore. Also, notice the ubiquity of Mini7, Sevenet and Silkscreen? Tiny fonts are everywhere!!
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A NY Times article about Daniel Liebeskind who is designing the Jewish Museum in San Francisco. There's a picture here of his proposed plan, which looks like an enclosed car wreck.
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Todd Hido is one of my favorite local photographers. I just found a site that he created for Post Tool's post-tv site called Homing In.

I am a great drinker of tea, since I quit drinking coffee two years ago, after seeing a National Geographic item that showed spiderwebs woven while the spiders were under the influence of alcohol, PCP, LSD and caffeine. The caffeine spiderweb was one of the scariest things I'd ever seen, the others were only mildly deranged. Anyhow, I've been having a hard time keeping my teapot warm and have been searching the web over to find a good tea cozy, but can't seem to find one without lace, patchwork or cabbage roses on it. I lost the one my mother got in England a few years back, which was a Queen Elizabeth I, tiny head, enormous skirt. Please help!
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excavating the archive, a colloquium on the state of digital archiving, is a conference at Parsons this week, addressing new technologies of memory. I wish I were in New York. Thanks, Peterme .
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Hide Itoh is my idol. I've recently become enamored of icons, and have been collecting them from all over the web. But his are definitely the best I've seen so far, and are availabe at the Pixture Studio
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The second half of the Sylvia Plath article is up on Salon now, and is mostly dedicated to a theory that Plath's suicide was tied to a savage case of PMS.

Got a digital camera today, finally! so expect to see some pictures up here soon.
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I know very little about Walter Pichler's work, but he seems to be working in an area of architecture that fascinates me: architecture that crosses the boundry into conceptual art. He designs "portable living rooms" that are helmets with televisions inside them, but which also comment on the sad solipsism and alienation of persistent television viewing. If anyone know anything else about him, please let me know! There doesn't seem to be much about him stateside. In some ways his work is similar to Archigram, a kind of architectural group as rock band, with ideas instead of songs, rockin and rebellious and cool cool cool.

Related are my interests in space suits, utilitarian clothing (like Tonita's latex wear), tiny living units, like Andrea Zittel's work, which transgresses boundries of sculpture, industrial design, architecture, conceptual art, etc. Here is the a to z comfort unit II, 1994. Here's her statement. I also am fascinated by diaries as portable units of self, and motile living units like turtle and snails convey. I am also fascinated by the question, "What would you take with you from a burning house?" and desert island lists of all kinds.
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I wrote today's Media Nugget about Lewis Nordan. Scott and Jim read his autobiography, Boy with Loaded Gun, and say his life makes his books seem positively upbeat.
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