Fuyuko Matsui
It’s not exactly light stuff, but I’ll leave you with the visual representation of pain through the brush of Fuyuko Matsui. I’ll see you on Tuesday, same secret time, same secret place. Until then, I’m in the wind.
It’s not exactly light stuff, but I’ll leave you with the visual representation of pain through the brush of Fuyuko Matsui. I’ll see you on Tuesday, same secret time, same secret place. Until then, I’m in the wind.
Ready for a barn dance.
Most days make it pretty obvious to me that, by deciding to work at an inside job, I’ve really made the wrong choice. It’s hard to telecommute from the middle of the forest though. Who has a job for me that involves being in the woods most of the day? I don’t mind if it’s just a job guarding your weed farm. As long as you can provide health benefits and some profit sharing bonuses, I’m in. In the meantime I’ll just have to be satisfied with staring at Carey Roberts’ dreamlike landscapes. Not a bad trade-off really.
If you’ve never seen Esao Andrews’ work before now, then consider your life half wasted. He’s got a new show opening at Jonathan Levine Gallery next weekend that is going to rip your fucking brain out. I am not being hyperbolic in the slightest. Maybe a little parabolic. Possibly toroidial. MATH!
Having, myself, spent hours in Illustrator trying to trace a line drawing (don’t even get me started about LiveTrace), I can tell you that it ranks pretty high up on my list of things that make me want to angrily skullfuck all the cats in my neighborhood. Why cats? Because I don’t like their smug, knowing looks is why. I’d have to say that it amazes me that Detroit illustrator Christopher Gideon isn’t locked up somewhere for running amok. His crazily intricate vectors make me think that he is either incredibly enlightened, possibly the 805th incarnation of the Buddha, or he’s a powder keg just waiting for something to set him off. I think I’ll play it safe and post his work like he asked me to. Hey Chris, hey buddy, who’s your friend? That’s right, I am. Just remember that.
Really fantastic and simple design work from Dom Murphy. His web design has me itching to try out a couple of ideas. Maybe when I get through with the 30 other projects in line before it. I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you, website. No, shh shh, it’s ok….you’re pretty, too. Who’s my special website?
I would’ve bet good money that Peter Diamond’s work was all digital (which doesn’t lessen how awesome it is one iota), but I would’ve lost that money. Apparently he is just masterful enough with his ink linework that it fools even my trained eyes. I stand corrected, and possibly humbled. No, humble isn’t really my thing. Also, what the fuck is an iota?
Nothing ruins a great weekend like a Monday. You wake up with a mouth that tastes like old onions, the cat licks the mayonnaise on your sandwich when your back is turned, the hops that you’ve been drying (what?) in the food dehydrator are almost dust, and a guy riding the wrong way in the bike lane clips you as you ride past. He doesn’t apologize or even look back. Gearing up to be one of those days I try and hide under my desk. Thank you, Julian Baker, for being a nice little island of goodness for me to look at in what will likely be an otherwise shitty day. Now if you’ll all excuse me, I’ve got to go grab some fruit to hoard in my new desk-fort.