» artsy

artsy: Maria Ikonomopoulou

Beth — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 23:31:43 +0000

These are names cut out in paper.

YOU all over ME, 2006, print on canvas | via www.mariaikonomopoulou.com

artsy: Joël Penkman

Beth — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 19:45:59 +0000

Graphic designer and artist. Now you’re talking. More on Joël Penkman.

via joelpenkman.com

artsy: Endless Summer No.3

Beth — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 22:09:30 +0000

Hang in there summer. Love this print by www.myanartstudio.com, available at Supermarket.

artsy: Kimia Kline

Beth — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 02:02:54 +0000

From Nashville to the San Francisco Art Institute, to a painting residency in India, Kimia Kline not only has a great name but inspiring work. Read her blog or check out more of her work here.

Top to bottom: Cinder and Smoke, White Out, Dirty Blond | via www.kimiakline.com

eye candy: Camera Bags

Beth — Thu, 30 Jun 2011 00:51:47 +0000

We had a media tour visit us at Boulevard Magazine a few weeks ago, and the photographer had the most excellent camera bag. I don’t see the exact one here, but it has been determined that it was from Kelly Moore bags. It’s a great site, with videos of how the bags work and fantastic cross section diagrams.

via www.kellymoorebag.com

arsty: If Hughes only knew

Beth — Wed, 18 May 2011 19:02:31 +0000

via www.theglobeandmail.com

This E.J. Hughes painting originally sold for $350 in 1952. How does $1.1-million at auction for return on investment sound? This week in Vancouver, the previous record was broken for a work by the Vancouver Island painter. He died in 2007.

From The Globe and Mail:
“Coastal Boats Near Sidney, BC, signed and dated 1948, was acquired by the College of Physicians and Surgeons of British Columbia directly from the artist, who was born in North Vancouver but lived for most of his life on Vancouver Island. The College held onto it for almost 60 years, along with Hughes’ 1952 work, Mouth of the Courtenay River. That painting, which the College bought for $150, sold at auction Tuesday for just under $790,000.”

artsy: Royal Coat of Arms

Beth — Fri, 29 Apr 2011 16:35:53 +0000

via www.ctv.ca

Herald Painter Robert Parsons, sketches the new Coat of Arms for Kate Middleton’s family, at the College of Arms in London, Monday April 18, 2011. Middleton used this Coat of Arms until her wedding day yesterday, when it was merged with the Prince’s Coat of Arms. Kate’s heraldic design features a tied ribbon to show she is an unmarried woman and the overall shape is an elaborate lozenge – a shield would be used for Middleton men.

I think this tradition should become the new trend. How fabulous to have your own image you can combine with your chosen one.

artsy: Favela Painting

Beth — Wed, 09 Mar 2011 18:53:47 +0000

via www.favelapainting.com

Over 7000 square meters of hillside slum were converted into an new monument for the community. The goal of the Favela Painters: “supports the creation of striking artworks in unexpected places. It collaborates with local people to use art as a tool to inspire, create beauty, combat prejudice and attract attention.”

The initial idea of the Favela Painting project was to paint a hillside favela in the center of Rio, visible to all inhabitants and visitors. Mission accomplished!

Check out their Facebook page.

artsy: Haroshi

Beth — Tue, 11 Jan 2011 18:32:29 +0000

Old skateboards, pixel-inspired aesthetic. Japanese artist Haroshi’s three dimensional sculptures come from a history as a skateboarder and interest in their design and construction that verges on obsession (perfect). It’s a coincidence that his creative method is similar to the way traditional wooden Buddhas are created. More here.

from DUNK 2010 | via www.haroshi.com

artsy: The Incurable Optimist

Beth — Thu, 06 Jan 2011 22:41:09 +0000

We have just come through the holiday season when the world is full of hope, peace and generosity. The new year brings promise of renewal, fresh starts, resolutions, blah blah blah. It’s also a reminder that there is always somebody who needs help. Always somebody fighting a battle. Maybe it’s you.

Websites infiltrate, full of requests for change or ways to give and help. On the other side of the spectrum, blogs list every possible “Best of 2010″ category along with predictions on what will be hot in 2011. It’s a confusing and tiring time of year.

The concept of “the incurable optimist” peaked my interest. Everyone needs one of those! Patrick is an artist living with motor neurone disease. His goal of 100 portraits of incurable optimists is underway in order to help the Motor Neurone Disease Association create a movement of incurable optimism. He’s looking for incurable optimists to paint. Nominate that person here.

His work is full of life.

3 of Patrick's portraits | via http://patricktheoptimist.org, TOP Kath is supportive, loving and caring. Without her I would be lost. The writing in her hair is something she said to me when I was first diagnosed, “I will always look after you, right until the very end | MIDDLE I am an amateur inventor but I bow down humbly before Earl’s talent. Despite having bulbar MND and being unable to speak, he has set up a business making his inventions for disabled people | BOTTOM My parents are the biggest optimists in my life after Kathy. Right from my diagnosis they have been positive, supporting me in all my crazy schemes, and even suggesting a few new ones.

I can’t help but post some of his writing:

Yesterday was such a day. As I sit here writing this, it is news years day. We had planned to go to a friends house last night for a party. Over the last week, progression had brought me low. I have been having more and more trouble eating lately, struggling with it really. The thought of a party was just depressing.

Another way that MND defines me is in the way that other people treat me. Few get it right, they hold your hand, look into your eyes and say, “How are you Patrick, how are you really?”, or they are overly helpful, hovering around trying to do everything for me. I know they do it because they care, because they love me, but it is depressing being smothered. Also, going to the toilet in other peoples houses is difficult, involving lots of people helping me, supporting me. I do have a condom catheter thing but I haven’t got used to it yet, and I tend to spend much of the evening worrying about going to the loo. Yesterday it all got too much, and I asked Kathy to cancel the wheelchair taxi. She would go alone with the kids.

At first I was relieved, then, a bit later, I saw that Kathy was upset that I wasn’t coming. I realised that MND had beaten me, and that if I didn’t go, I was giving up. So I went. The party was great, they treated me entirely normally, as I should have known they would, and they moved the fridge so I could get to the loo.

It was a victory, a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I will not win my personal battle with MND – it will kill me in the end. But the little victories show I go to my fate unbowed, a soldier in a greater war that will be won.
___________________________________________

Ray is the fifth friend of mine who has died of MND, in the short time I have been a member of my local group.

And then, the next day, Kathy’s mum died.

What hope of light is there in this darkness?

My only comfort is this. As I sit there cold in my wheelchair at the funeral, my breath in clouds before me, amongst a black clad group of Kath’s family, stood sombre in the snow, there are brilliant scientists in warm laboratories across the world working hard to beat not only MND, but Alzheimer’s too – the disease Kathy’s mum had. Over the vast landscape of Arizona, someone jumps from a plane, skydiving to raise money for research. As the parachute opens, a man in Paris staggers to a halt, smiling, gasping, his marathon run – more euro’s for the cause. And as the runner drinks from his bottle, my neurologist in Oxford hits someone’s knee with a little rubber hammer, measuring, caring, helping. He looks up at his patient and smiles, and at the same moment, in the frozen churchyard in Somerset Kathy looks down at me with tears in her eyes. I squeeze her hand with what little grip I have. Today I am caring for Kathy, but normally she cares for me, and she is the most thoughtful, caring person in the world.

There is much that is bleak here, but there is much that is good also. There are people out there fighting to stop MND and there are people caring for those that have it. The system is not perfect, but we have made a start, and I take comfort in that.

I am a lucky man.