Posts from September 2018

shape shifter

September 5, 2018

I like the simplicity of  Seri Tanaka‘s paintings. Her palette is muted and serene. I can see a collection of them gracing the walls of a minimal home, uncluttered and calm. This one is my favourite –– of course, I see a vase. Take a look at Tanaka’s Tumblr, it’s really quite lovely.


September 4, 2018

My friend, Kerry Clare writes one of my favourite blogs. I’ve been reading it for almost a decade. She’s grateful, and delights in small pleasures like pie, pools and the Sunday papers. Here she writes about her summer. “And it was precious, all of it. Because summer is abundance, a wave of too-muchness, life growing up between the cracks in the sidewalk, and you can’t hold any of it, not even for a moment. Summer is a force and it just goes and goes and goes, and the best thing you can do is just be swept along by it, and be able to say in the end: we are so lucky and that was good.”

I chose this image, because the supermarket really is the best place to cool down.

I was here

September 4, 2018

There is a breathtaking moment at the end of Thomas Riedelsheimer’s latest documentary on land artist, Andy Goldsworthy, where Goldsworthy stands at the cliff’s edge in the midst of a rain storm leaning into the wind. It’s a form of performance art, I suppose. The wind knocks him over several times, before Goldsworthy, for a second or two, is one with the wind. “I think a good work is a moment of understanding and clarity in a very chaotic situation. Like a shafted light it just penetrates, and for a moment it is very clear. And then it all becomes unclear again.” It’s a beautiful, reflective film that challenges the way we think about art, nature and life. In Sleeping Stones, a series of sculptures in Cuenca, Spain, Goldsworthy creates a human “sanctuary” by carving human sized forms into the stone. There are two ways to look at the world; “You can walk on the path, or you can walk through the hedge, ” he says. While wandering a city, Goldsworthy literally pushes through hedges while people around him walk along the pavement. And earlier in the film, we watch him clamber from tree to tree like some kind of sloth. From a distance, it’s hard to tell where the branches end and limbs begin.

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