Yep, this about sums it up.
channel orange
The alternative 'nostalgia' cover art
It's HOT. If I go outside I pretty much melt into a freaking puddle. So, I've been holed up under the AC (bliss & very grateful for it right now!) to work, occasionally checking out to chill and listen to one of my all-time favourite albums, Frank Ocean's Channel Orange. It was love-at-first-listen and continues to enthral—that voice!—with his compelling lyrical storytelling.
Ocean once said : “[Storytelling’s] the more interesting part about making music for me, or making albums and songs and stuff. So much so that I might not make another album. I might just write a novel next.”
That was before the drop of Blonde and Endless. I love the idea of him writing a novel! And hopefully, more music.
Here's a small taste: Sweet Life.
new moon
Image: photograph by @isaacexplores & featured on @universetoday
New moon. New beginnings. New intentions.
And contemplating the cosmic, some wise words from Carl Sagan:
“For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love”'
(@_nitch)
curiosity feeds imagination
Artwork: wall mural, Curiosity Feeds Imagination by @mantrarea, 2016
For book lovers, readers and dreamers, this amazing wall titled, Curiosity Feeds Imagination by @mantrarea, created for the Kufa Urban Art, Esch festival in 2016.
red thread
Artwork: Akiko Ikeuchi, Knotted Thread, 2011
Red: primary and primal.
The colour of blood; what’s basic to life. It’s a colour associated with passion, love, anger and pain. It’s chromatically intense and draws the eye whether you see it in nature or on the street.
Discovering the work of Japanese artist, Akiko Ikeuchi, what jumped out at me was her use of red thread. Some of her sculptural installations feature white or black thread, but it’s her red thread pieces that drew me in.
Artwork: detail of Akiko Ikeuchi, Knotted Thread, 2011
Using delicate silk thread, Ikeuchi meticulously plans her thread sculptures using 3-D modelling and knots them by hand. The construction is then anchored in space and oriented by geomagnetism: north, south, east and west. These webs have associations with natural phenomenon: whirlpools, hurricanes and galaxies. With the energies of life. Ikeuchi’s creations limn what is seen and unseen; what is tangible and intangible. The viewer engages with the piece through their very movements: the threads vibrate with the air, the changes of humidity, by breath.
Artwork: detail of Akiko Ikeuchi, Knotted Thread, 2011
In Ikeuchi’s words: “I am continuously trying to mediate something invisible, not easily visible in this world, which is mostly fragile.”
As for the colour red, what I found fascinating is the similarity with two other Asian artists I’ve written about in ‘Art Stories’, both featuring red thread in their art.
For Chiharu Shiota, the red thread is a symbol of connection, the “ocean of life”: “It’s like a red ocean you can see from the top. When people look in the space, they immediately can see the universe.” Specifically relating to her installation for the Japanese Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, The Key in the Hand (2015), the threads signify the connection of humans throughout the world by red threads.
This is similar to Beili Lu’s Lure/Wave (2010) installation, except she’s referring to a specific Chinese folk legend, The Red Thread of Fate. It tells of how when children are born, invisible red threads connect them to their soul mates. Over the years, their lives become closer until they eventually find each other, overcoming social and physical divides that might otherwise separate them. This magical cord might stretch and tangle, but will never break. There's a comparable Japanese folk legend, but it extends to all relationships, whether friendships, family, or couples.
I’ve yet to unravel the significance of the red thread for Ikeuchi, but I have a feeling it stems from the life force of the energies she works with to create her exquisite art.
the shape of water
Guillermo del Toro’s film, The Shape of Water is magic.
Part fairytale, part myth, the story of Eliza Esposito—the princess without a voice—a janitor at a government facility, and the amphibious creature from South America she falls in love with, has a quirky humour and aesthetic that reminded me of the films of Jean-Pierre Jeunet (Amelie, The City of Lost Children, A Very Long Engagement), laced with a dark and haunting lyricism. It’s a film that doesn’t shy away from issues of loneliness, isolation, discrimination, politics, race, and the violence and ugliness perpetrated on people (and creatures) deemed different. And what it means to be human; to be truly seen.
While I don’t want to ruin this film for anyone who hasn’t seen it, it’s the poem recited at the end that encapsulates the heart of this gorgeous tale of love, longing and transformation:
Unable to perceive the shape of you
I find You all around me.
Your presence fills my eyes with
Your love. It humbles my heart,
For You are everywhere…
salt surf
I've been buying t-shirts and sweaters from this “nice and cool” small business, SALT SURF, for a few years now. I love the pared down aesthetics, the DIY philosophy, and the inclusiveness and environmental awareness of SALT SURF.
Today I got their New Year's Resolution through IG and email and I wanted to share it, simply because it resonated and it's pretty awesome.
Here it is:
“Last week I read a quote by Anais Nin that hasn't quite left me since I read it. It said "I could not live in any of the worlds offered to me... the world of my parents, the world of war, the world of politics. I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself." It sat with me for a while. The message kept coming back to my mind. I think we forget the power we all have to create the world we want to live in. It can sound too difficult to accomplish sometimes, and even at times outlandish, but the power of our thoughts to create our reality is real.
The inspiration behind SALT SURF was to create a world we believed could exist. An inclusive world, where people felt welcomed, inspired and motivated to join along, a world where nature inspired us, and where surfing could mean whatever you wanted it to mean to you. You could join this world, or create a world of your own that shared these same values wherever you lived in the world.
I think it’s easy to lose sight of this power we all have, and I think we as a brand neglected to highlight this point as much as we could have this past year. We hit a stride in some ways. We were smooth sailing. Things were good. But it’s also easy to get complacent when things are good. We also opened a shop and a lot of resources and energy went into getting that up and running. BUT, that’s not why we're here... that's not why SALT SURF started. We were born with a mission. So, 2018 is going to get us back on track. We're going to remember why we choose to be a small business. Why we had a mission to be inclusive in an industry that thrives on exclusivity. And why most importantly there must be love in everything that we do. So, this year we'll move forward by remembering why we started in the first place.”
-Nabil
Founder and owner of SALT SURF
8850 Washington Blvd, Culver City, CA saltsurf.com
Morley's underwater adventures
This is great. Artist Morley (@official_morley) took his street art to another level—underwater!
On a trip to Hawaii, he and his wife decided to have an ocean adventure. They got in a cage underwater to check out some swarming sharks. While there, he stuck his hand outside the cage with one of his laminated artworks and took a photo.
And this is what he had to say about it:
“The message speaks to how doubt can feel insurmountable. It can feel like a chasm filled with ever searching creatures looking only to consume your hope, your faith and your optimism. Some people- and some dreams- are worth the journey, no matter how perilous they prove to be”'
Neil Gaiman's wedding poem
Image: Neil Gaiman with his little boy, Ash. Photo: @amandapalmer
I checked out Neil Gaiman's website to see if he had a New Year's message. Instead, I found this. A wedding poem. He wrote it for his friends, Sxip and Coco, on their wedding day, and because everyone asked him about what he'd recited, he posted it.
I thought it quite wonderful, so here it is:
This is everything I have to tell you about love: nothing.
This is everything I've learned about marriage: nothing.
Only that the world out there is complicated,
and there are beasts in the night, and delight and pain,
and the only thing that makes it okay, sometimes,
is to reach out a hand in the darkness and find another hand to squeeze,
and not to be alone.
It's not the kisses, or never just the kisses: it's what they mean.
Somebody's got your back.
Somebody knows your worst self and somehow doesn't want to rescue you
or send for the army to rescue them.
It's not two broken halves becoming one.
It's the light from a distant lighthouse bringing you both safely home
because home is wherever you are both together.
So this is everything I have to tell you about love and marriage: nothing,
like a book without pages or a forest without trees.
Because there are things you cannot know before you experience them.
Because no study can prepare you for the joys or the trials.
Because nobody else's love, nobody else's marriage, is like yours,
and it's a road you can only learn by walking it,
a dance you cannot be taught,
a song that did not exist before you began, together, to sing.
And because in the darkness you will reach out a hand,
not knowing for certain if someone else is even there.
And your hands will meet,
and then neither of you will ever need to be alone again.
And that's all I know about love.
a new year
Artwork: C215 (Christian Guemy) L’amour triomphe de tout
Love conquers all.
I hope so for 2018.
Here's to love, peace, kindness, hope, grace, empathy; being brave, honest, thoughtful, giving—to being whoever you want to be; whoever you believe you were meant to be.
And don't forget your sense of humour! Laughter was a big antidote to some of the craziness that was 2017 :):)
eleven!
Artwork: wall mural by @never1959
It's Eleven! I love Stranger Things, so this is a pretty awesome wall by @never1959.
infinitesimal being
Photo: @mattbroadwin
I seem to be bingeing on Pablo Neruda's poetry these days! I just had to share this. It's simply divine. From Neruda's Selected Poems, a poem plainly titled Poetry (La poesía), exploring Neruda's revelation about being a poet, about wanting to write poetry, the tentative first lines, and how it made him feel.
The third stanza is stunning:
And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.
so lightly here
Artwork: paste-up by @murmurestreet
For anyone feeling like the Christmas spirit is a no-go-zone—too stressed, bummed out, snowed under, shopped out, tanked out—whatever, here are some beautiful words from Leonard Cohen that cut to the heart of the matter:
“We are so lightly here. It is in love we are made. It is in love we disappear.” (@_nitch)
earth without art
Artwork: by Levalet, Paris
Awesome :) :)
eL Seed: The Bridge
Great art installation by eL Seed in the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea. Initially he wanted to create a bridge-like sculpture rising about 20 metres, based on the idea of unity, peace and mutual respect. But due to security issues, this couldn’t be realized, so the result is this laser-cut horizontal artwork at the fence of the DMZ.
Describing the project, eL Seed wrote:
“Bridges are never built from one side. It involves taking a step forward from both sides. I proposed a bridge that would begin in South Korea and extend to the mid-point a gesture of solidarity. The project will remain unfinished until another art piece is installed in North Korea, thus making it the ultimate symbol of unification. 'The Bridge' feeds the memories of the older generations with the souvenir of one united country, it stands as a reminder for the younger generations that there is a shared culture, language, and traditions and that art can bring people, culture and generations together beyond political conflict.”
The artwork translates the words of a poem, via eL Seed's “calligraffiti”, by Kim Sowol, a North Korean poet who passed away before the country was divided:
You may remember, unable to forget:
yet live a lifetime, remember or forget,
For you will have a day when you will come to forget.
You may remember, unable to forget:
Let your years flow by, remember or forget,
For once in a while, you will forget.
On the other hand it may be:
How could you forget
What you can never forget?
Artwork: eL Seed, The Bridge, 2017 (photo: @t.jchoe)
sky of beijing
Artqoek: Wang Gongxin, The Sky of Beijing, 2017 Guggenheim, New York
I recently came across this video installation by Chinese artist, Wang Gongxin. It’s showing at the Guggenheim NY: Sky of Beijing—Digging a Hole in New York, 2017.
The genesis of this piece was a mirror installation created by Gongxin in 1995. After living in New York for nearly 12 years, Gongxin returned to China and created a video installation in the floor of his courtyard house. He dug a hole, 3 meters deep, and placed a video monitor at the bottom. It showed the sky in Brooklyn and was aptly named, The Sky of Brooklyn. There was also sound featured, a brief dialogue: “What are you looking at?” and then, “It’s nothing. Just the sky.”
Both pieces play on the idea of the remote distance between the two countries; the expression “digging a hole to China”, as the only direct (and impossible) way to get there, and the disparate cultures Gongxin experienced and its impact on identity. Yet, it’s also an eloquent meditation that despite borders, distance and differences, we all live under the same sky.
millo
Artwork: wall mural by millo, Sound of You, Shanghai, 2017
I've been meaning to post this for a while. A wonderful wall mural by millo in Shanghai for the Murmur project. It's called Sound of You—a poetic work about longing, dreams, nature and time. Check out millo's IG for the gorgeous companion piece, Twist of Fate (@_millo_).
obviously
Image: @33thirdmedia
Hilarious :)
invisible cities
There are books so fantastical you just want them to be real.
Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities is such a book.
It’s a story of Marco Polo recounting his many and varied travels to Kublai Khan. After each journey, Kublai Khan asks Marco Polo to describe the cities he has been to. And so it goes, the explorer gives the conqueror a vision of a world he has not seen, and most likely, never will. For each city is wondrous and impossible, yet Marco Polo is only ever describing one: the city of his birth, Venice, Italy.
The story is woven with memory, desire, dreams, longing, and the constancy of change in trying to capture what is closest to our hearts.
Here’s a tantalizing sample of an exchange between Polo and Khan:
“I shall tell you what I dreamed last night,’ he says to Marco. ‘In the midst of a flat and yellow land, dotted with meteorites and erratic boulders, I saw from a distance the spires of a city rise, slender pinnacles, made in such a way that the moon in her journey can rest now on one, now on another, or sway from the cables of the cranes.’
And Polo says: ‘The city of your dreams is Lalage. Its inhabitants arranged these invitations to rest in the night sky so that the moon would grant everything in the city the power to grow and grow endlessly.’
‘There is something you do not know,’ the Khan adds. ‘The grateful moon has granted the city of Lalage a rarer privilege: to grow in lightness.”
miles
Photo: Recording 'Kind of Blue' l-r: John Coltrane, Cannonball Adderley, Miles Davis and Bill Evans
Chilling out with Miles Davis and my all-time favourite recording of his, Kind of Blue. Here's Blue in Green—a classic and truly beautiful.