division christen deere

I use very little red. I use blue, yellow, a little green, but especially... black, white and grey. There is a certain need in me for communication with human beings. Black and white is writing. 

(Hans Jean Arp)

I don't know which I am more excited about-  today is 

Nicola Tesla Day AND National Pina Colada Day!

Take your pick or celebrate both by toasting Nicola with a Pina! 


And I am also celebrating color like this:

Yarn bombing - crocheted work in Morgantown West VA

Canadian photographer, Amy Friend revisits the past and explores themes of memory and impermanence through the alteration and re-imagination of vintage photographs. The artist inserts a charming glow to the silhouettes of her subjects; the additions makes the images come to life, almost as if the aura of the deceased is alive. “By re-using lights”, she says “I return the subject of the photographs back to the light, while simultaneously bringing them forward.”

Frankly I have a hard time with this guy, don't think I'll celebrate him ever, but I do admit he is funny in a sad acquisitional and arrogant way.  Many more Kanye-fidences here!

Self-taught artist Ben Young is a man of many exceptional talents from surfing and skateboarding to repairing furniture and working full-time as a qualified boat builder. He’s also spent the last decade exploring the art of sculpting with glass, an endeavor that’s become increasingly rewarding as galleries and collectors have started to take notice.

Using sheet after sheet of carefully cut glass, Young builds both abstract and realistic interpretations of waves and bodies of water, undoubtedly influenced by growing up near the beautiful Bay of Plenty on the northern coast of New Zealand’s North Island. Many people assume his work is made with the help of machines, or maybe even 3D printing, but instead everything is done completely by hand, from his initial sketches on paper to the manual cutting of each glass pane, a process he describes as “a lot of work.”

Today I've got a little something different about squirrels.  As soon as we arrived in Boston, Molly bee-lined for her toy box which she hasn't seen for four years now.  First thing out was her stuffed squirrel, her only animal remaining fairly intact and still squeaking, here:

As soon as she caught him she showed him what-for:

And he was turning quickly into just a pelt, here she is pulling out the tail stuffings:

Bye Bye Squirrel, RIP

(Pepper is not the least bit interesting in stuffed animals, squeaky toys, bones, or tennis balls.  He is an intellectual.)