Things I've been looking at.

  Ulrika Kestere via ulicam

 Danna Ray

 Lily Stockman

 Via a now-defunct tumblr

 Zoe Poster via designsponge

 Andy Goldsworthy via All the Mountains

 Both Curiot via Fecal Face

 Mari Andrews

 Nose Go via Fecal Face

 Ian Hughes via Fecal Face

Just, you know... letting things marinate. Trying to calm down, get inspired, and then who knows what could happen.

When worlds collide.

If you've been reading this blog for any amount of time you've probably noticed several things:

1. I like art.

2. I like hiking.

3. I'm going to be hiking for fifty percent of this year on a little trail that runs from Mexico to Canada.

For obvious reasons there probably won't be too much talk about art while hiking. BUT! I will be doing something that for me, is a first: I will be carrying a sketchbook on this hike!!!!!! (Please note that the excessive amount of exclamation marks are indicative of the fact that this is a big deal.) I am notorious for sketchbook neglect and I almost never create art while hiking. The decision to add this weight to my pack thus looms very large in my head because if I don't become a prolific drawer then that weight is absolutely pointless/tortuous.

Initially I was going to pack my miniature Windsor & Newton travel watercolor kit, the thought of which involuntarily conjures up the words en plein air; a pleasing phrase redolent of Earl Grey tea and crisp linen and Manet and Monet and sunny fields and wooden easels. Plus it has great colors and a teeny tiny brush (what's not to like?). However I recently came to my senses and recalled that initially I will be hiking through desert. I could potentially be carrying at least eight pounds of water on my back and I will be damned if I'm going to waste any of it on a lousy sketchbook! So now the plan is to carry a few markers or colored pencils. You know, just another trivial decision to agonize over for hours on end.

It's an exciting progression for me because as much as I love both art and hiking, I have always let the logistics of combining the two defeat me.

In conclusion: while I won't be talking about art all that much I will do my best to draw and document and share that on here (I even am attempting to forgo carrying a book, just to force myself into using the sketchbook - desperate times call for desperate measures.)... and if I don't draw, you can rest assured that I will be cursing myself with every useless sketchbook-laden step.

Becca Stadtlander

I know, I know. My inconsistency in posting has been off the charts lately. (Well, it hasn't been that bad but for those of you used to a post per day I apologize!) My mind has been spinning in futile circles lately; yesterday I tried to take a ten minute shower and ended up staring blankly at the walls for over forty minutes while I reiterated itineraries and mail drops and unfinished tasks in my head. It was completely and utterly useless. The Pacific Crest Trail has taken over my life, and I'm not even hiking yet.

Moving on to brighter things: Becca Stadtlander creates the most lovely illustrations and is yet another artist I kind of want to be.You can tell that nature makes her happy, and that makes me happy!

See you tomorrow. I promise.

Asahel Curtis

Today I was researching* Edward Curtis (a photographer who documented Native Americans at the beginning of the 20th century) when I stumbled across his lesser-known brother via NPR. Asahel was also a photographer and what caught my eye were these colorized lantern slides of Washington that were commissioned by the Washington state Department of Conservation and Development of the time.

NPR's article at one point says "...just as often the images are beautiful because they create a world with its own integrity, either by their awkwardness or because the color they offer is better than what we experience in the real world."

 Well, I beg to differ, NPR!

 I think that the color that I'll be experiencing in the beautiful state of Washington while on the Pacific Crest Trail will suit me just fine thankyouverymuch!**



*And by researching, I mean procrastinating of course.
** I drank too much coffee before writing this. Clearly.

Andrew Wyeth

The color palette of Andrew Wyeth's work is subdued, as is his imagery... and his work has been dismissed by critics as sentimental, provincial and illustrative.

But what I see is a man whose translation of the everyday imbues a sort of magic realism to the ordinary. “By means of art we are sometimes sent dimly, briefly, revelations unattainable by reason, like that little mirror in fairy tales. Look into it and you will see not yourself but for a moment, that which passes understanding, a realm to which no man can ride or fly and for which the soul begins to ache.” 

Occasionally I feel a slight tug deep inside of me, as if my heart is being squeezed, and there's a flash of gratitude and love for something so much bigger than me. It can be triggered by almost anything outside: a puddle, mountains, clouds, a raven hanging above me on a summit, a circle of lichen on a tree, the scent of sun-warmed dirt and pine needles, a silhouette of weeds; I don't even need to be hiking for this to happen, sometimes it's just while driving and catching a brief glimpse of the surrounding environment as it flashes past. It's something profoundly simple, beautiful and evocative. Something that makes my soul ache.

In other words, what I am trying to tell you is that while by society's standards I may be hopelessly single... I realized recently that I am in the best goddamn relationship of my life and it's with dirt and rocks and trees and sky. Thank you Andrew Wyeth, for your visual reminder of the visceral reaction that even ordinary surroundings can evoke... if you love them enough.

  
Trodden Weed, The Carry and Ice Pool by Andrew Wyeth. Images sourced here and here. Solzhenitsyn quote sourced from an excellent blog post about Wyeth found here.

Sandy Litchfield

Topographies that seem based off of memory and tactile experience, landscapes that fluidly merge and shift, and even portraits of people cobbled from the stuff that makes up the earth... what's not to like? See more work here: Sandy Litchfield.

I hoped for nothing. And yet I lived in expectation...

- Stanisław Lem

Enigmatic & atmospheric.

I'm currently stuck in that strange no-man's land that accompanies ditching a job and planning something big. It's happening soon, but not soon enough. Rather than bore you with my encroaching anxiety let's distract ourselves with some artwork, shall we? This work is a bit different than my normal preferences (I'm a big fan of color) but something about them struck me. Ok, fine. I'll admit it. The  shapes and facets and sheer faces and stark tones reminded me of mountains. Go figure.

Happy Friday! See you Monday.

Via The Jealous Curator, I'm Revolting and Arthound. Artists from top to bottom are Josue Rauscher, Leslie Shows, Evonne Bellefleur (twice) and Axel Brechensbauer.

Kelsey Brooks

I'm pretty partial to Kelsey Brooks work that he calls meditation circles.

Shaker spirit/gift drawing.

"In 1853 visiting spirits dancing in twisting circles were seen and recorded (by Timothy Randlett) at Enfield, New Hampshire..."

"To be sure, the term drawing is a misnomer, because the Shakers did not use it themselves when they were referring to these works. In the few Shaker documents in which the gift drawings are mentioned, they are typically referred to as sheets, rolls, signs, notices, tokens of love, presents, rewards, hearts — sometimes prefaced by the adjective sacred. This definition focuses on the function of the works as gifts from heavenly spirits, rather than on the form in which the gifts were materialized. In fact, the gift drawings often include titles, captions, inscriptions, and extended texts, in English as well as in scripts written in indecipherable tongues, that place them on an uninterrupted continuum with other manifestations of belief, such as inspired writing, ecstatic movement, and spontaneous speech, especially in the form of song."

France Morin, in Shaker Gift Drawings and Gift Songs, The Drawing Center, New York, and UCLA Hammer Museum, 2001 (above image sourced from this publication via the internet)

This is cool/strange on so many levels. More information here.

You say dystopia, I say utopia.

 I've been on a dystopian future literature kick lately: rereading The Road, revisiting Margaret Atwood's books the Handmaid's Tale and Oryx and Crake, and finally getting around to reading America Pacifica. There is something incredibly fascinating in thinking about how nature will eventually reclaim our dwellings and erase the scars we've left on the landscape.

 

I find a lot of beauty in decay and I hate most commercial architecture so I find it particularly soothing to envision it abandoned and overrun with vines and brush. I'm secretly cultivating a strident anti-consumerism stance (and a healthy dose of self-loathing for my role in perpetuating the cycle) and the thought of civilizations crumbling is no longer a depressing prospect but just an inevitable reality given our current trajectory. (Take note: apparently this blog is about to start documenting my transformation into a misanthropic hermit. I was definitely born in the wrong era for this, but I'll do my best to make it work.)

I really enjoy Alex Lucas's work for the reasons noted above. Frankly, I'd be way happier picking through briar bushes in a spray-painted shell of a Walmart than I would be digging through the sale racks of one in its current state. I especially like the fact that the top piece is acrylic and silk screen on book pages. Neat. His work reminds me of something else that I've already posted about: the 100 Abandoned Houses project. Also neat (albeit slightly depressing if you care about the economic health of the US).

Let's make this happen.

Dear Jonathan Levitt: I know almost nothing about you, but I do know that based on your photography alone we should probably hang out. Yes, you take better photos than me... but in terms of subject matter, I am willing to poke around the woods and eat berries and admire fungi and take pictures any day. Can we be friends?

Jonathan's photography:

Proof that I can hang:

ps: Jonathan's website has more of his work. I first discovered his photography via Miss Moss.

pps: The forecast predicted minus fifty below zero for windchill and I'm going hiking... WISH ME LUCK.