Artist Yuliya Kyrpo, a secondary school student in England, constructed this dress out of one thousand paper cranes made from free Metro newspapers. I'm pretty sure I've heard that if you accomplish such an astounding undertaking, you're granted free flights via paper crane for life, so I hope Yuliya chooses some incredible destinations. She's earned it.
I saw these colored pencil portraits by Marco Mazzoni of ladies' faces surrounded by flora a few days ago, and they've stayed in my mind so consistently that I needed to post. The subject matter seems fairly standard, yet something has haunted me about the concept. The surrounding foliage is so much more detailed and vivid than the faces in the center of the images, which seem to fade away entirely around the eyes as flowers and butterflies take over. There's a tension between the greater color of the flowers and the centrality of the faces that grabs my attention, and the glimpses of expression make me curious what occupies the minds of the subjects.
There's a saying that goes "before you hit the jackpot, you've got to put a coin in the machine." Wonderfully, that is no longer the case, thanks to a project begun by Richard Kelley on Kickstarter. His project is called "I Check Coin Returns: Making WTF Moments" and involves leaving a prize button (like the one shown here) for people to find when they check the coin return slots of soda machines, payphones, and 24-hour washaterias around the U.S. So it looks like I've got a new hobby.
There's also a saying that goes “Serendipity. Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you've found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for.” Which is exactly what this project is, and exactly what I want to include more of on the blog. Presto! New category. Isn't that fun?
Read the details of the project here. They're neat.
A gorgeously executed series of the moments that make up our lives. Some are mundane, some are life-changing. Some we forget even in the act of doing them, and some we remember as the moment our lives changed forever. My favorite bits are the placement of the crocheting hooks right before the fishing hooks, and the sticky note "WRITE A MANIFESTO!" that promptly falls down. Because really, who hasn't been there? (I keep meaning to write my damn manifesto! I swear it's on my to-do list.)
(Potentially NSFW because of a split-second condom shot and the fact that newborn babies are, admittedly, pretty scary. (Naw, but really, it's safe.))
Photographer Anton Tang poses tiny figures called Danbos in a variety of scenarios, photographs them using a macro lens, and gives each one a soul. Watching the little girl Danbo share a special day with her dad, or fail at swimming for the first time, or get punched in the face by a bully, I somehow keep rooting for her as if she were really alive. And she is...in my heart. (If I made you say "Aww!" or groan disgustedly just now, I have achieved my purpose.)
See the photos here -- they're truly wonderful, and you forget just how teensy the subjects really are as you follow their triumphs and their...well, not-so-triumphs.
Photographer Richard Renaldi is working on an ongoing photo project called Touching Strangers, which is basically what it sounds like, only less dirty. Here's the premise, according to him:
"I meet two or more people on the street who are strangers to each other, and to me. I ask them if they will pose for a photograph together with the stipulation that they must touch each other in some manner. Frequently, I instruct or coach the subjects how to touch. Just as often, I let their tentative physical exploration play out before my camera with no interference...Touching Strangers encourages viewers to think about how we relate physically to one another, and to entertain the possibility that there is unlimited potential for new relationships with almost everybody passing by."
Which is interesting -- it's interesting to think about all the minute, codified rules we have about touching and levels of intimacy. It's interesting to think about what we might gain (and lose) by playing with those limits. And most of all, it's interesting to think about how insanely uncomfortable I'd be participating in this whole exercise.
The context of this video: It's 1933, in the midst of the Great Depression. Gold Diggers of 1933 -- one of a series of Gold Diggers movies -- opens in May of that year starring Ginger Rogers, Joan Blondell, Ruby Keeler and Aline MacMahon as four chorus girls trying to make it any way they can. These are desperate times, and it's hard to even get a show funded at all, let alone find work. But our ladies are plucky, not to mention talented, and you know they have a trick or two up their sleeves.
I'll not spoil the plot for you, but basically, this is a musical from the Depression about making a musical about the Depression. And this -- this! -- is the opening number, with Ginger Rogers singing "We're in the Money" in Pig Latin (YES I am serious!) with some giant fake coins barely covering her business. What a way to open a movie.
When I was a child, I was obsessed with Greek mythology. I don't mean run-of-the-mill obsessed; this obsession ran deep. My interest branched out to include Roman history and other things ancient and Mediterranean, and I ended up majoring in Classics at university. Which means I've known for a long time that the bare white marble statues and buildings we think of when we think of Rome and Greece were not, in fact, bare and white, but were originally presented in a glorious panoply of colors to make the rainbows and the multicolored unicorns weep.
Normally I'm not of the opinion that ignorance is bliss, but in this case, I was fairly tormented with knowing the temples and statues had color but not knowing how it really looked. Or else only a glimmer of paint here and there, a hint of how things might have looked, but no real confirmation. I don't have much of an imagination, so I was really experiencing some rough times.
Which is why I'm posting this link to the wonderful article over on io9 showing how spectroscopy is finally revealing the answers to these questions. Because one of you may be like me, trying in vain to picture how ancient statues looked all painted up, and failing miserably. I'm here doing my little part to help you out.