An actual email from my grandparents I got today:
Subject: a picture for you PROPER DRESS FOR FLIGHTS
ON YOUR RECENT TRIP BET YOU DIDN’T SEE FELLOW PASSENGERS DRESSED SO FORMALLY. THIS PHOTO SHOWS US LEAVING ON OUR HONEYMOON FLIGHT TO SICILY MAY 5, 1962. Note granny’s white gloves and my felt hat. this was normal attire in those days. Unthinkable to look otherwise.
Notes + Links / Casey A. Gollan: bloodletting:medicine::LCDs:computing →
My brother wrote this pretty funny post last night about the conditions of screen-viewing.
"I was on the beach a few days ago and there was this really unhappy woman near by who seemed like she was like getting a divorce from her husband from the way they were interacting, and everyone went to play in the water but she stayed on her towel squinting at her iPad in the glaring sun. And I kept looking over by accident when they were fighting, and then like staring really hard when I realized she was attempting to use an iPad in direct sunlight.
I broke my Kindle screen and never got a replacement and maybe that’s why I have this pent up anger about being chained to a screen in Summer Time 2012. It REALLY REALLY doesn’t work like this with the smiling. Sad people try to look at iPads in direct sunlight.
I don’t know how the future will work precisely. But looking at screens in shady places aaaaallllll the fuuckkkinnggg tiiiiiimeeeee isn’t the way things have to be, it’s just the way things are. I don’t want to feel like I have to choose. In a hundred years people won’t.”
Click through to read the rest (and watch a pretty great clip from Portlandia).
#emails from mom
I have a new “tenant” ! It is such a beautiful day 50 degrees and I opened all the windows in the cottage to air it out and a bird flew in……Now I cant get it out …………
|New York Times:||You always called your dad Don?
|Flavin Judd:||Always. Don and Julie were the parents.
|NYT:||You never called them Mom or Dad?
|FJ:||No. If you’re in a public space and a kid yells, “Daaaaad?” how many people turn around? Dozens, right? So how personal is Dad and Mom anyway? In our case our parents were to some extent the generation of ’68. A lot of Don’s work assumes a utopia. Or, rightly so, assumes the ability to affect the world. Which got reinforced when he did things like help to stop the expressway through SoHo. The use of first names by my parents was a rejection of convention, of their parents. It wasn’t arbitrary. They made it normal that we call them by their first names.
|NYT:||What do your kids call you?
|FJ:||All sorts of stuff.
|FJ:||No. Well, sometimes. Mostly its French “Papa” and “Maman.” My wife Michèle and I made no rules whatsoever. We don’t say one way or the other.
|NYT:||As a kid, you were kidnapped by your dad and brought to Marfa.
|FJ:||I wouldn’t use that word. That’s an overdramatization.
When I was young, my brother and I used to fight a lot. We’d get into these awful retaliation wars where he would burn down my houses in the Sims, I would log on as his character in Animal Crossing and bring all his fruit over to my house and dump it there, things of that nature. Looking back, it was weird how real this virtual war was over accomplishments and possessions, but at the time nothing could trump the tragedy of losing hours having to recreate my perfect neo- Gothic palace for Bella and Mortimer Goth.
Yesterday I participated in Corpus, a project by Italian artist Giuseppe Licari hosted by the international artist residency program here in Stockholm, IASPIS.
The concept is simple: gather people to bake and compare memories and experiences with bread. The experience is lovely: we all grabbed pieces of the same dough and decorated them individually, and while the bread was baking we heard a talk by Jonatan Habib Engqvist called “Bread and the Other” which reminded me that the etymology of the word “companion” comes from the Latin panis, which, when combined with com, means bread fellow, some one with whom I break bread), and that the Holy Communion is a ritual with weirdly cannibalistic overtones!
When the breads were all done we presented our breads, sliced into them, and had a feast. Most of the memories were tied to mothers and grandmothers. I spoke about how when I was in grade school my mom took a few years off from working. During the days, when she was waiting for us to get home from school, she used to bake bread to pass the time - olive bread, raisin bread, bread with small fruits baked in. She also made these beautiful dried flower arrangements that she hung over the doors. When we’d come home the apartment smelled fantastic and we’d have a warm snack together. When we got older and she returned to work she stopped baking bread, but the tradition stayed with me and my siblings. In any case, there is something comforting and meditative about baking bread. It requires patience, love, and care. In that vein, here is a lovely video from Tartine bakery about bread, surfing, alchemy, and music.
These thoughts all enter into Giuseppe’s work; you can see and read more on his website and the Spaghetti Forever site. FOOD AS ART!
#galleri magnus karlsson
Yesterday I saw the most beautiful exhibition at galleri magnus karlsson. Petra Lindholm (b. 1973) is a Finnish artist, and she was born in the same town where my grandmother had a summer house. I spent a lot of my childhood there, and the videos and colored photographs Lindholm uses in her exhibition were really evocative for me.
According to the press release, ”The exhibition is inspired by the artist’s great aunt Anne Marie, who lived in Finland in the beginning of the 1900s. She was engaged with a Russian man, Mr Obolenski, who was forced to escape to Paris during the Russian Revolution. Anne-Marie was left alone and never heard from him again. She got weak and with a heartache she went to a sanatorium to rest and recover. There in the Alps she began to photograph the view of the mountains. The same misty mountains over and over again.”
Check out the rest at the exhibition website.
"Pappa: Is Wikipedia more good for finding out about music?
Me: I mean… it’s more good for everything.
Pappa: But how does it compare to Google?
Me: Well, Wikipedia is like an encyclopedia so you just limit your search to one place, and it’s all the information you could ever ask for about that subject. Google is just like, links…
Pappa: I need to go more into Wikipedia!"
My dad, figuring out Wikipedia.