objects in flux
Oct. 12th, 2015 10:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yamamanamaOn Friday, I woke from a dream within a dream. Having nothing to read on an empty train and series of boats from western Europe to the Solomon Islands* with nothing to read but Sparrowind and a textbook written by the crazy math teacher from Rick and Morty is the true nightmare.
*I say that, but geography was quite a bit different. Most noteworthy thing about it: Papua New Guinea was directly south of Indochina, in between Indochina and Australia. The islands off to the west were the Dominion of something or other.
And I did my best to memorize that fact from Mr. Goldenfold's textbook: Papua New Guinea tribes used base 20 but that changed but they still use the original numbers on their dice. Which doesn't make sense in the real world.
One woman's tattoo depicted something from the Siamese Dream album. It looked familiar but I didn't recognize it at first, mostly because I ripped the CD once I got a computer capable of it, and that was some time back in 2005.
Fun fact: when you image search Siamese Dream, you get 14 pages of the cover before anything else. The people were green in her tattoo.
Her friend, or relative, or something, had a bit of pink in her ponytail.
I'm not sure what they were doing in Boston but they went in the opposite direction. Probably the Museum of Science.
All right, no errors.
This is a bracelet made from bits of plastic and empty cups and gloves and syringes and other assorted junk, and it drags behind the wearer.
The Transit of Venus. Notice the figures in the negative space.
Behind it were lenticular images. If you've seen the cover of Tool's Ænima, while we're on the subject of music from my past and will soon be on the subject of extended Latin alphabets, you know what I'm talking about.
JONATHAN KEEP, SOUND SURFACE: BENJAMIN BRITTEN FOUR SEA INTERLUDES FROM PETER GRIMES.
...It was like that. I'm not retyping it.
it's not actually worn there, it's just in a display case.
There's other jewelry too and some algorithmic parquetry designs each made on a day in September of 2011 based on the current search trends somehow and I'm going to scour Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr for them.
Ikat II actually changes colors.
again, just a ladle. Nobody's carrying it, not even a mannequin.
Poros
You can look through the holes and see its reflection on the window.
obviously, you have to go to other websites to find everything, not just the MFA's.
but Livejournal resizes things automatically now, which is really nice. If it doesn't resize images for you, you have my permission to yell at me.
here goes the hair
and there goes the hair
There was a work of performance art in which a woman got her hair done in the style of a mask from Sierra Leone. It was probably connected to this, in which there's one wall with photographs of the backs of women's heads and their hairstyles replicated on the other wall.
The hairdresser, Kathy, had a headband falling hair like one of the masks streaked with magenta but maybe that was a coincidence.
Their interactions with the audience actually seemed like an integral part of the performance.
The conceptual artist, who was getting her hair done, said that they could have just set a physical or metaphorical barrier and not interacted with anyone, but she didn't want to do that.
disassembled piano.
The thing I hate about Twitter is that I have to go to the tweet in order to get the image url. I can't just get it from the image search.
But at least it actually has an image search. The one site that doesn't have a useful or useable image search just happens to be the one site that everyone is on and everyone posts images to.
Combining "compendium" with "pendant."
This artist is from Azerbaijan.
You can smell the indigo and there's recorded noises that gave a woman the creeps. To me, it sounded like rats in the walls. She has a big dog and thinks the wildlife center is close enough to visit in the spring when she can see the babies, or perhaps she'll be at Night of a Thousand Faces.
She's not an artist but she wanted to see my sketchbook. I'd have sketched her had we been on the train instead.
this picture was taken before the parquet layers below it were put on display.
someone said regarding Roman statues "imagine moving this thing."
I drew two women and a man in the courtyard.
I ran into the women in a room in the Art of the Americas wing with paintings of hummingbirds and I told her about the baby hummingbirds and showed her owls since I had no pictures of the hummingbirds.
this temporary exhibit depicts the social classes in the Dutch Republic. I think a shiba inu mans their twitter, as the description is "much anticipation. delicate sensibility. Very moving."
The exhibit went from the upper class consisting of the nobility who lived off of income from the land they owned and stadholders, the regents and the wealthier merchants, a middle class of professionals, stopkeepers and artisans and a prostitute, the lower class of unmoneyed laborers and mercenaries, the places where they all met. There were three dinner tables set up, where you could see the differences with the quality of the craftsmanship and the materials used.
There was another exhibit about the cultural exchanges between Europe and Asia and the New World.
Sam and her friends were eating pink cake because it's Sam's birthday today. So let's wish Sam a late happy birthday because I know you're not going to read this until long after I post it, and wish Sam luck with her music.
She's a singer-songwriter who plays guitar, she sings in rock and jazz style with others. If I come across Sam's music or see her band in concert or hear her busking at Park Street or whatever, I'll let you know.
I met the six of them at a free concert by Zili I stumbled upon on my way to Pita. Sam ended up the most intricate because she has a sun pendant and a turtle pendant and Celtic knot tattoo on her ankle.
A dragonfly landed on Sam and between that and the dragonfly I saw when walking the dog, I was super-amazed to see dragonflies this late.
Zili is from Boston but they're influenced by the music of Haiti, Brazil, and West Africa.
While I was there, I met a fawn pug puppy and a black pug adult.
Allison, however, isn't an artist or writer or anything, just barely a musician, she works in the medical field at a children's hospital and hopefully it's borne by ideals. She asked me if I've done portraits of myself, and I have, but none of them just pen and ink. She thinks her portrait came out really good.
Jess (not the Jess we're all familiar with, but a Jess who looks a bit like Sara and has a triad of flowers tattooed behind her ear) and Jen asked for their portraits. Jess had a balloon octopus but one of its eyes popped and one of its arms popped and startled Allison. Jen's shirt said PINK on it but that wouldn't even convince a dog. Her shirt was clearly gray.
I feel like Allison is just as tech savvy as most of the people who program for Facebook. I don't think I can tell if someone read my messages any more. In fact, I wonder if Emma isn't even getting my messages. I don't know how I got into this discussion but we both use desktop computers instead of tablets, partially because there are things I want to do that can't be done with a touchscreen. I brought up the time I contemplated Sonic the Hedgehog on my iPod somehow. I still read books, and I make art with ink and watercolors and not a tablet or 3D printer.
We discussed how I've started to notice face shape more and other things less and how I've known people for years and still can't recall their eye color, unless they're exceptionally vivid (the woman with the black hat comes to mind here) or maybe just really dark or maybe unexpected like blondes with brown eyes.
I told Allison about Katie's play idea. We were talking about different spellings of Allison (Alison, Allyson, Ålÿssón), and then she mentioned that there are people who spell their name Cathleen.
I accidentally wrote Allïson in my sketchbook. Actually, it's Allison with a double acute accent over the i but those don't seem to exist.
On the other hand, getting Pita to go is probably something I'll never do again. Eating it there would be so much less awkward but I was in a bit of a rush.
In front of me on the escalator stood a woman with the most vivid blue in her hair I've ever seen. Not any particular shade of blue, just a pure blue. The color of television, tuned to a dead channel. Or at least, the color of television a decade and a half ago, tuned to a dead channel.
Burning Question: Do you ever get haunted by pilot ghosts if a haunted plane flies over you?
*I say that, but geography was quite a bit different. Most noteworthy thing about it: Papua New Guinea was directly south of Indochina, in between Indochina and Australia. The islands off to the west were the Dominion of something or other.
And I did my best to memorize that fact from Mr. Goldenfold's textbook: Papua New Guinea tribes used base 20 but that changed but they still use the original numbers on their dice. Which doesn't make sense in the real world.
One woman's tattoo depicted something from the Siamese Dream album. It looked familiar but I didn't recognize it at first, mostly because I ripped the CD once I got a computer capable of it, and that was some time back in 2005.
Fun fact: when you image search Siamese Dream, you get 14 pages of the cover before anything else. The people were green in her tattoo.
Her friend, or relative, or something, had a bit of pink in her ponytail.
I'm not sure what they were doing in Boston but they went in the opposite direction. Probably the Museum of Science.
All right, no errors.
This is a bracelet made from bits of plastic and empty cups and gloves and syringes and other assorted junk, and it drags behind the wearer.
The Transit of Venus. Notice the figures in the negative space.
Behind it were lenticular images. If you've seen the cover of Tool's Ænima, while we're on the subject of music from my past and will soon be on the subject of extended Latin alphabets, you know what I'm talking about.
JONATHAN KEEP, SOUND SURFACE: BENJAMIN BRITTEN FOUR SEA INTERLUDES FROM PETER GRIMES.
...It was like that. I'm not retyping it.
it's not actually worn there, it's just in a display case.
There's other jewelry too and some algorithmic parquetry designs each made on a day in September of 2011 based on the current search trends somehow and I'm going to scour Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr for them.
Ikat II actually changes colors.
again, just a ladle. Nobody's carrying it, not even a mannequin.
Poros
You can look through the holes and see its reflection on the window.
obviously, you have to go to other websites to find everything, not just the MFA's.
but Livejournal resizes things automatically now, which is really nice. If it doesn't resize images for you, you have my permission to yell at me.
here goes the hair
and there goes the hair
There was a work of performance art in which a woman got her hair done in the style of a mask from Sierra Leone. It was probably connected to this, in which there's one wall with photographs of the backs of women's heads and their hairstyles replicated on the other wall.
The hairdresser, Kathy, had a headband falling hair like one of the masks streaked with magenta but maybe that was a coincidence.
Their interactions with the audience actually seemed like an integral part of the performance.
The conceptual artist, who was getting her hair done, said that they could have just set a physical or metaphorical barrier and not interacted with anyone, but she didn't want to do that.
disassembled piano.
The thing I hate about Twitter is that I have to go to the tweet in order to get the image url. I can't just get it from the image search.
But at least it actually has an image search. The one site that doesn't have a useful or useable image search just happens to be the one site that everyone is on and everyone posts images to.
Combining "compendium" with "pendant."
This artist is from Azerbaijan.
You can smell the indigo and there's recorded noises that gave a woman the creeps. To me, it sounded like rats in the walls. She has a big dog and thinks the wildlife center is close enough to visit in the spring when she can see the babies, or perhaps she'll be at Night of a Thousand Faces.
She's not an artist but she wanted to see my sketchbook. I'd have sketched her had we been on the train instead.
this picture was taken before the parquet layers below it were put on display.
someone said regarding Roman statues "imagine moving this thing."
I drew two women and a man in the courtyard.
I ran into the women in a room in the Art of the Americas wing with paintings of hummingbirds and I told her about the baby hummingbirds and showed her owls since I had no pictures of the hummingbirds.
this temporary exhibit depicts the social classes in the Dutch Republic. I think a shiba inu mans their twitter, as the description is "much anticipation. delicate sensibility. Very moving."
The exhibit went from the upper class consisting of the nobility who lived off of income from the land they owned and stadholders, the regents and the wealthier merchants, a middle class of professionals, stopkeepers and artisans and a prostitute, the lower class of unmoneyed laborers and mercenaries, the places where they all met. There were three dinner tables set up, where you could see the differences with the quality of the craftsmanship and the materials used.
There was another exhibit about the cultural exchanges between Europe and Asia and the New World.
Sam and her friends were eating pink cake because it's Sam's birthday today. So let's wish Sam a late happy birthday because I know you're not going to read this until long after I post it, and wish Sam luck with her music.
She's a singer-songwriter who plays guitar, she sings in rock and jazz style with others. If I come across Sam's music or see her band in concert or hear her busking at Park Street or whatever, I'll let you know.
I met the six of them at a free concert by Zili I stumbled upon on my way to Pita. Sam ended up the most intricate because she has a sun pendant and a turtle pendant and Celtic knot tattoo on her ankle.
A dragonfly landed on Sam and between that and the dragonfly I saw when walking the dog, I was super-amazed to see dragonflies this late.
Zili is from Boston but they're influenced by the music of Haiti, Brazil, and West Africa.
While I was there, I met a fawn pug puppy and a black pug adult.
Allison, however, isn't an artist or writer or anything, just barely a musician, she works in the medical field at a children's hospital and hopefully it's borne by ideals. She asked me if I've done portraits of myself, and I have, but none of them just pen and ink. She thinks her portrait came out really good.
Jess (not the Jess we're all familiar with, but a Jess who looks a bit like Sara and has a triad of flowers tattooed behind her ear) and Jen asked for their portraits. Jess had a balloon octopus but one of its eyes popped and one of its arms popped and startled Allison. Jen's shirt said PINK on it but that wouldn't even convince a dog. Her shirt was clearly gray.
I feel like Allison is just as tech savvy as most of the people who program for Facebook. I don't think I can tell if someone read my messages any more. In fact, I wonder if Emma isn't even getting my messages. I don't know how I got into this discussion but we both use desktop computers instead of tablets, partially because there are things I want to do that can't be done with a touchscreen. I brought up the time I contemplated Sonic the Hedgehog on my iPod somehow. I still read books, and I make art with ink and watercolors and not a tablet or 3D printer.
We discussed how I've started to notice face shape more and other things less and how I've known people for years and still can't recall their eye color, unless they're exceptionally vivid (the woman with the black hat comes to mind here) or maybe just really dark or maybe unexpected like blondes with brown eyes.
I told Allison about Katie's play idea. We were talking about different spellings of Allison (Alison, Allyson, Ålÿssón), and then she mentioned that there are people who spell their name Cathleen.
I accidentally wrote Allïson in my sketchbook. Actually, it's Allison with a double acute accent over the i but those don't seem to exist.
On the other hand, getting Pita to go is probably something I'll never do again. Eating it there would be so much less awkward but I was in a bit of a rush.
In front of me on the escalator stood a woman with the most vivid blue in her hair I've ever seen. Not any particular shade of blue, just a pure blue. The color of television, tuned to a dead channel. Or at least, the color of television a decade and a half ago, tuned to a dead channel.
Burning Question: Do you ever get haunted by pilot ghosts if a haunted plane flies over you?
