The Telegraph has this great photo journal for funny signs, all submitted by readers. I miss seeing this kind of stuff in person...I think it's time for a vacation.
I haven't watched music videos in a while, so the other day while sewing I clicked around on Pitchfork and found some I like:
Tortoise - Prepare Your Coffin
You can tell, almost instantly, that this is San Francisco. The wires, the bumpy BART walls, that church in Japantown. I like the mix of action and still photography - it works well with the song and helps you to see the photographer's perspective. Nicely done!
Royksopp - The Girl and the Robot (feat. Robyn)
Robyn always wears the craziest things...things that inspire me to branch out a little. Look at those earrings! Ah! I also like the part where the scientist/salesman winks at the other guy. Oh yeah.
I can't get enough of this stuff - stop motion is so simple and yet, with a little ingenuity and some time you can make amazing videos. My recent favorites:
Wolf and Pig / A Wolf Loves Pork (via designboner)
This rabbit appears to be standing next to the cold I caught. I thought he only chewed up books and fabric, but apparently he can defend himself from evil, wherever it may lurk.
A friend showed me this blog, Cake Wrecks, and as I scrolled through I understood why: this is exactly my sense of humor. Check out some gems I snagged from their site:
I just decorated a birthday cake, and somehow none of these ideas came to mind. Crazy! I think I will make every future cake in this style - something ridiculous, something to make us all laugh a little more.
I have to admit, I haven't been faithful to Trader Joe's. I used to live a couple of blocks away from one, and I'd go there a couple of times a week during my lunchbreak to buy a few measly groceries and eye the cute checkout guy. I just saw this video and I think it pretty much sums up my relationship with TJ's. I miss it all of a sudden. Maybe I should go get some couscous or something.
I just watched Elizabeth Gilbert's TED talk about creative spirits and genius, and I thought it was really touching and funny. She talked about how in ancient Greece and Rome, people believed that spirits outside of humans were collaborators in the creative process. Daemons, also known as geniuses, would hang around and help you out. As she noted, it humbled the human because his work was not entirely his own. Also, if he screwed up and the work wasn't so great, it wasn't really his fault. Nice!
I won't spoil the rest of it in case you want to hear it in her own words. I like the way she talked about creative people having a potential "out," a way to circumvent the pressure our closest allies often lay on us, even if accidentally. Just show up - just do your part and screw it if it's not so great. Keep going. Next project. Don't worry if your best work is behind you, because there's no way to tell that something even more amazing won't happen.
Yesterday Mom and I headed down to Omnivore, the amazing cookbook store down on Cesar Chavez. We spent a while there, just basking in the treasures we found and admiring the cozy space, and finally we whittled down our stacks to the essentials. I got a small book from Peter Pauper Press - the recipes are so simple, and the illustrations are so beautiful.
Here are some examples of their 1950s graphic covers:
This guy is awesome. These laser cut envelopes by J.K. Keller are based on the patterns printed inside of those mundane office envelopes. I wish I got some mail in one - it's so lacy and delicate, less insecure and more dainty than one might expect.
Grandma and Grandpa gave me an old cuckoo clock they picked up at a garage sale ("one of many"), and I've been searching online for info on assembling it. Along the way I found this picture:
You guys win. Mine is smaller. Are those guns at the top? Creepy.
I read an article about the history of cuckoo clocks here, and it said that Bavarians started making them because they were snowed in every winter. The whole town would come together, making metal cogs in one shop and wooden boxes in another, all in an effort to make clocks. It seems so surreal - would that happen in our times in America? Maybe that's a feeling of community that I've been missing.
Anyways, the gigantic clock people also have these sweet little birdcages. We saw some at the Alameda Antique Fair and they're really beautiful. Feast your eyes on this:
I recently moved into a 1920s era apartment with all of the charm you could hope for - the Bay window, hardwood floors, heavy bathtub, telephone nook, and - best of all - a Murphy bed closet. The bed fixture had been removed many years ago, but Dad and I figured we could make our own contraption. In our usual stroke of good luck, he found an old Murphy bed frame on craigslist. This apartment will know the glory of its youth!
Murphy beds were introduced in the early 1900s and peaked in popularity around the late '20s when a lot of apartments were being constructed. I guess suburban/single family residence homes have changed our ideas about space and functionality, but I feel like this idea is a timeless gem for urban life.
I just got back from the Alameda Antique Faire and wow! there was lots of great stuff. A friend and I got beautiful cast iron pans, and the vendor told us a little about their history and maintenance while we rooted through his selection. I eyed a lot of old toys and tools, rooted through vintage textiles and despaired at the prices of handsome baskets. The market happens once a month, on the first Sunday. You'll probably see me there.