If tomorrow I were to walk away to some other place, go live in a where that is not this where, the place I would go would have lots of snow and the house I would live in would be made of cold, a house of snow — or of-snow-adjacent.
Dave Kinsey at Fecalface has a treat for you, me, and the lamppost:
How to catch an octopus
by Patrick Widdess
Okay, so there’s this Canadian clothing designer, Natalie Purschwitz, who runs a small and very interesting operation, Hunt & Gather, out of Vancouver. A few months ago she got the genius idea to wear only clothes she has made herself, for a whole year, in a project she calls Makeshift. Makeshift, I find, is a very nifty notion, if not also a little daunting. (But of course most things worth doing are a little daunting.)
Do you wanna know a thing I really like? A thing I really like is when people who make things make things that mess with form or boundary, or our expectations. Needless to say, then, I am smited with smittenness for Scott Hove’s Cakeland project, not only because boys who sculpt a million jillion foofy pink cakes are boys I wanna know and go out for drinkies with, but also because hey! hello! domestic-arts-fucking-around-with, right there, woo-hoo!
Leo Tolstory rocks my world, man.
The Tollund Man
by Seamus Heaney
Some day I will go to Aarhus
To see his peat-brown head,
The mild pods of his eye-lids,
His pointed skin cap.
I wasn’t planning on posting twice today but then I wasn’t planning on falling madly in love either.
Last summer I went to church. Not church-church but a place that made me feel what maybe those who’ve got religion feel. Last summer I went to the reconstituted London studio of Francis Bacon, at the Hugh Lane Museum in Dublin.
The backbone of the backbone.