book bound.

bookbinding is something i've always been curious about. how's it done? where does one start? the tri-main center here in b-lo happens to be a hop, skip and a jump away from my abode, and just also happens to house the buffalo arts studio. lucky me. through project create, courses are offered on everything from watercolor and acrylic painting to printmaking, pottery, assemblages and, yes, bookbinding. thanks to my talented and affable instructor, amy greenan, i was introduced to bookbinding, 101 style.

 

you can use anything from cotton thread or colorful embroidery thread 

to bookbinding thread. 

glue stick. check. needles. check. awl. check. straight edge. check. 

variety of material to work with. check.

book #1

first we learned a basic pamphlet stitch and then created soft covers for them.

(i used magazine ads and decorative scrapbook paper.)

using scrap, i created a fun little slip closure.

book#2

the japanese binding.

this binding is great to bind loose, single sheets.

book#3

the accordion fold.

this is an accordion with hardcover top and bottom.

i seriously can't wait to make a ton of fun little mini books this way...

among so many other things.

book#4

my own creation: a cardfolio

we learned basic hardcover assembly, as well as 

the making of portfolios. brilliant.

the end.

want to get your bind on? check these sites out:

www.keithsmithbooks.com

www.philobiblon.com/letprint.shtml

V

"Every season is likeable, and wet days and fine, red wine and white, company and solitude. Even sleep, that deplorable curtailment of the joy of life, can be full of dreams; and the most common actions—a walk, a talk, solitude in one’s own orchard—can be enhanced and lit up by the association of the mind. Beauty is everywhere, and beauty is only two finger’s-breadth from goodness. So, in the name of health and sanity, let us not dwell on the end of the journey."

~Virginia Woolf

The Common Reader “Montaigne”-Ch. 6

The Common Reader is Woolf’s first and most popular volume of essays; the collection has more than twenty-five selections.

Today's question: Are you the "common reader"? Who is the common reader you ask? Well, according to Dr. Johnson, this individual is neither a critic nor a scholar. He reads for his own pleasure and (to quote Mrs. Woolf) "He is guided by an instinct to create for himself out of whatever odds or ends he can come by, some kind of whole--a portrait of a man, a sketch of an age, a theory of the art of writing." It's someone untarnished by the literary world. Someone who reads what they want because they want to, not because they were told to. Someone who reads to fulfill some part of themselves through word soaked pages; opposed to reading only to announce some freshly captured nugget of knowledge or produce a counterargument to others opinions...

Isn't the common reader who writers fill their pages for?

Side Notes: (1) I'm hoping to visit some of V. Woolf's stomping grounds in London; and (2) I think it would be really neat to have a name that starts with a "V" only because the nickname "V" seems mysterious and has a kind of I-don't-take-crap-from-people ring to it.

today's randoms...

I should really stop putting my chewing gum on top of my travel coffee mug. It looks gross and I rarely stick it back in for a second teeth slamming.

The use of the serial comma in a simple series really bothers me.

I've been writing weekly nutritional and physical activity challenges for kids since September. I'm running out of ideas and ready to just post a "Choose Your Own Adventure Challenge" to cover the rest of May. I'd love to choose something like "King of the Hill" where the idea is to take over a mound of dirt or actual hill by, oh, I don't know, pushing the other children down it, but I don't think that will fly. For the nutritional challenge, I'm thinking of something like the following: "This week's challenge is to stop shoving your face with shit like candy bars, fat fries and beef patties. If you want to be a fat pudge of a kid, then fine, go right ahead. Otherwise, pick up a banana or something. What's wrong with you?"

I have to stop leaving my cell phone and gloves on my lap when riding in the car. I forget about them and then they meet the pavement when I depart my vehicle. If my cell phone could yell at me, it would scream expletives from its little speaker. It can't be pleasant to smash into concrete. Sorry celly. As for my gloves, I'm just glad they can't smack me across the face, because they would have done that by now, too, for the way I've treated them.

The use of a semicolon after "however" followed by a comma makes me smile.

I'm craving live music so badly that I'm actually going to see a band called "Deer Tick" tomorrow night. Yup. Just being at Mohawk Place with a vodka gimlet in one hand and a certain someone's hand in the other will make it a good night. So if the show is good, double bonus. I'll let you know.

It's finally happening. In 7 months time, I'll be eating biscuits and drinking tea, climbing the Eiffel tower and falling to my knees. In 7 months time, I'll be in Florence drinking wine and floating in a gondola feeling oh so fine. In 7 months time, I'll travel Europe with no fear and be downing Prague's tasty beer...

"...And there will be sun sun sun all over our bodies
And sun sun sun all down our necks
And there will be sun sun sun all over our faces
And sun sun sun so what the heck..."

buffalo blooms all year long...

The buffalo botanical gardens is a culmination of the works of landscaping architect, Fredrick Law Olmsted; architects Lord & Burnham; and botanist/plant-explorer, John F. Cowell. When it was built in 1897-1899, it was one of the largest public greenhouses in the country. (Glass, wood and steel construction.) The image below illustrates its unique tri-dome design. Today there are less than a dozen large Victorian conservatories in America.

Buffalo and Erie County Botanical Gardens

Photos by J. Lynn
2/28/09

beautiful thoughts...punctuated.

The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

haircuts all throughout the town...

(photo from my seat. watercolor layer in photoshop--noticeable when enlarged.)

it's been a good night so far: the sabres won a hockey game, the beer was cold, i managed to keep warm, there were pretzel rods at the bar, and i got some fun shots (photos, not alcoholic). the following photos (once again taken with my shitty camera phone) highlight a select group of sabres goers who i found were in need of a serious trim, as well as our city's prized gem, the trees, and the trim they received after the dreaded "October Storm" of '07 that left them bare and broken.  i still find them beautiful pieces of art, long limbed or not.

our trees trimmed...

our people untrimmed...

the sabres' mohawk.

the sabres' bowl cut.

the sabres' frow.

p.s. i'm secretly envious of those who have the ability to grow a frow. i'd have one if i could. 

no joke.

a second look

So not too long ago, I made my second trip to the newly built Burchfield Penney Art Center. 

Round #2 left me even more inspired than the first.  The following pics are courtesy of me, my camera phone, and I.

Note the 81/2 x 11 write-up at the right for scale. This painting is by far my fav there. 

I hope I have hair like that someday.

Within these glass plumes are images and clippings of pre-war Japan. 

I believe this sculptural piece is titled "Mushroom Cloud." Powerful.

So you know those little plastic ties used to attach toys to cardboard and electric wires to sound surfaces? Well, this work of art is made up of hundreds of them. The wood and plastic create a tall, slender table (not shown) and words like "Cake," "Bacon," and "Coke" pile on top.  A visual treat for all, including the birds.

 

Abstract Wilderness (oil on wood)

by Michael Zwack

Another image of this piece was posted in my Nov. entry (New Art Terms. New Art.) 

I liked it as much the second time around as I did the first.

The contrast of ebony black ink printed upon the stark blankness of white paper. 

I'm a fan of the purity, the saturation.

Look familiar? 

It's the art that pops behind "Thoughts Punctuated."(Note: It used to, but no longer does as of 2/28/09.) My note taking failed me. I have no idea who the artist is, but wish to thank them for the explosion of color.

Cheers.

p.s. Round #3 I plan to capture a pic of the spooning chairs--a piece that I scoffed at in round #1 and gawked at in round #2.

thawed out.

random observations, thoughts, discoveries

The black, block woman symbol on the door of the women's restroom at work is missing legs. Apparently the legs wore off--I'm guessing--from so many people pushing that panel to open the door. I notice it more often than I should. I try to avoid touching that area.

I have found that drinking green tea is something more than just pumping caffeine into my body. Coffee has a pleasant taste, I enjoy drinking it, but I find it takes me longer to finish my tea than a mug of coffee and I like that.  I like slowing things down and for some reason tea is my fix.  I still like coffee but haven't drank a cup in days, haven't drank a cup of full caffeinated coffee in months. I don't miss the coffee breath or that lingering coffee smell.

Desire paths intrigue me. It's a term described by French scientist, philosopher and poet Gaston Bachelard in his book The Poetics of Space.  Desire path: A term in landscape architecture used to describe a path that isn't designed but rather is worn casually away by people finding the shortest distance between two points.  We've all seen them.  Some stretch across park grounds to the nearest water fountain, some from campgrounds to the bathrooms, from the back door to the garage, or like I saw today, from the parking lot to the entrance of Starbucks.  The desire path I saw was short but evident: the heaping mound of snow that created a barrier between vehicles and sidewalk had a section of beaten down, mucky snow stamped with foot prints.  Like pregnant ladies, hybrid cars, and Ugg boots, the minute you become aware of them you begin to see them everywhere, every day.  You'll start seeing them, these desire paths, and come spring they'll be everywhere.  They are created by people who have a mission, a desire, a place to be and who want to fill that desire quicker than any asphalt or concrete slab can.

sex sells

It's one of the few things I retained from my undergraduate degree: Sex sells. With the ever so exciting Super Bowl upon us there are two main reasons we watch: (1) for the love of the pig skin and (2) for the love of the ads. I prefer the latter. The ad posted below is the infamous PETA 'Veggie Love' ad, which if you didn't hear already, is banned from the Super Bowl. I have to believe that PETA created this racy ad on purpose, which was just ingenious on their part, as I'm sure this ad is getting way more "air time" now than it would have in an actual spot during the Super Bowl.

'Veggie Love': PETA's Banned Super Bowl Ad

Quite the episode with the asparagus spears at the end, isn't it?  I suppose it's fitting as asparagus is an aphrodisiac.  Naughty, naughty PETA!