It must be the season...

...because this song has been floating around in my head. My boy Moss (aged 6) has even picked up on my lousy rendition and begun to sing it himself.

Happy holidays.

Roberto Bolaño

"The two of them wept like characters from different movies projected on the same screen."

From "Praise to the Highways" by Roberto Bolano, translated by Natasha Wimmer. Praise to the Highways will be published in English next year by New Directions.

Every once in a while a sentence or a thought really resonates. The line above is perfectly and clearly descriptive yet remains intriguing. I think this is a pretty neat trick.

It's my Old MacDonald app!

Check it out: paintings and animations by me and song by Jill Sobule, it's the world's first happysmart app for kids.

But don't take my word for it, rush right out to the app store and buy a dozen or so. And don't forget to leave a good review.

Come & see!

Come see the show or just check it out online at: http://descentart.blogspot.com/

(click the image to see it bigger)

The fun theory. On the funism blog.

There are a couple more of these, available on YouTube. Fun city.

My first celebrity crush?

My folks took me to see the Sidney Poitier movie "To sir, with love" when it came out in 1967. We lived in Morristown, N.J. and as I recall, there was a huge movie theater right on the green, near the bank. Sitting there in the dark with a box of Jordan Almonds on my 7 year-old lap, I remember developing a huge crush on Lulu. She had this great haircut and was tough and sweet and spoke with a lufferly English accent. Oh my.

Lord only knows why this song popped into my head today, but here's Lulu singing the song that owned the airwaves back in the days when the British invasion was still big music news:

My friend V. had some spinach on her teeth

I took this pic with the scary circus clown app on my iPhone and am delighted with the result.

If you want to read a poem about a clown, scroll down a post or two.

Trickle down my ass

Why won't Reaganomics die? Why do people still believe that the free market is always right and that government intervention is always bad? Nobel Prize-winning economist Paul Krugman addresses these issues nicely in this NY Times article: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/24/opinion/24krugman.html?_r=1&8ty&emc=ty

Not too many poems

Just a few. This one from the Aug. 24, 2009 New Yorker really grabbed me. I've read it a handful of times now and it is always perfect.

IF A CLOWN
by Stephen Dunn

If a clown came out of the woods,
a standard-looking clown with oversized
polka-dot clothes, floppy shoes,
a red, bulbous nose, and you saw him
on the edge of your property,
there’d be nothing funny about that,
would there? A bear might be preferable,
especially if black and berry-driven.
And if this clown began waving his hands
with those big white gloves
that clowns wear, and you realized
he wanted your attention, had something
apparently urgent to tell you,
would you pivot and run from him,
or stay put, as my friend did, who seemed
to understand here was a clown
who didn’t know where he was,
a clown without a context?
What could be sadder, my friend thought,
than a clown in need of a context?
If then the clown said to you
that he was on his way to a kid’s
birthday party, his car had broken down,
and he needed a ride, would you give
him one? Or would the connection
between the comic and the appalling,
as it pertained to clowns, be suddenly so clear
that you’d be paralyzed by it?
And if you were the clown, and my friend
hesitated, as he did, would you make
a sad face, and with an enormous finger
wipe away an imaginary tear? How far
would you trust your art? I can tell you
it worked. Most of the guests had gone
when my friend and the clown drove up,
and the family was angry. But the clown
twisted a balloon into the shape of a bird
and gave it to the kid, who smiled,
let it rise to the ceiling. If you were the kid,
the birthday boy, what from then on
would be your relationship with disappointment?
With joy? Whom would you blame or extoll?

Nighthawks at the diner

One of my favorite songs from my very favorite Tom Waits album, done up by Jackie Lay and brought to my life and yours courtesy of Drawn, the illustration and cartooning blog:

Eggs and Sausage from Jackie Lay on Vimeo.

Moss Graffiti.

How to of the day on wikihow: https://www.wikihow.com/Make-Moss-Graffiti

RIP Willy DeVille

When this song first hit my ears, I was a young music fan in college in 1979. The song had come out a couple years earlier but somehow didn't make it past The Boss until '79, which was a freakin' awesome year for music. The B-52's eponymous debut, Damn the Torpedos by Tom Petty, Elvis Costello, London Calling by the Clash, Entertainment by Gang of Four, Buzzcocks' Singles going steady, Joy Division, The Wall by Pink Floyd, Joe Jackson, Supertramp, Rust never sleeps, Rickie Lee Jones, Highway to Hell by AC/DC, Nick Lowe's Labour of lust, Blondie, The Police, Cheap Trick Live at Budhokhan. Joe's Garage by Frank Zappa, Talking Heads Fear of music, XTC, DEVO. Fuck. What a great time to be 19. And I was. And right in the middle of it was this perfect song Spanish Stoll. Great dance tune, great song of the times. Willy's AP obit here.

CNR

First it was I-forget-who, some early adapter or ad friend or both and then it was the O'Connor boys in some dancing elves Christmas rap and now the fine folks at Jib Jab have brought me this. God bless them, every one.

 

Max Neuhaus, RIP

When I was 22, I started working in Times Square, a hugely mind-expanding thing for a youngster straight offa the bus from Ohio. Somehow, I discovered this sound sculpture in the little traffic island between 7th Ave. and B'way on 45th st. An oasis of "om" in the middle of Times Square chaos, it has long been one of my favorite public art projects ever -- unobtrusive, intellectually and emotionally engaging, it's got it all. Googling "Times Square sound sculpture" brought me to this nice video of the sculpture as well as an obit of its creator Max Neuhaus, who passed away this February.

Class 1 of 7, A through B, flag by Johns

Happy Independence Day. Here's "Three Flags" by Jasper Johns, and some firecracker labels below.

Go ahead and google "firecracker label" and see what you get. Here's a small sampling off of one of the best sites, http://www.crackerpacks.com/

"...and on a star-spangled night my love..."

The girls were recounting the ending of a romantic comedy they watched last night and it sounded like maybe the hero and heroine kissed and fireworks went off. Those two things together always take me straight back to Love American Style. "Truer than the red, white and blue." Found this on YouTube, natch, and it turns out to be an episode that was actually the pilot of Happy Days.

A faboolos shout out

Number 25 of the 'decorating nature' series just rolled out from under the paint brush AND the project got a swell shout out from Faboolosity!  I would like to do a cool 100 of these things. Herebelow are numbers one and twenty five. Check out the whole series here: http://decoratingnature.blogspot.com/

fig. 25: a 17 year old river rock.

fig. 1: leaf of the clown tree.

Choo choo choo

Saw some of this on the PBS fundraising channel this morning.  Realized/recalled that I love big band swing.  In 2 parts.  Watch both.  8 minutes of awesomeness.

Hey! Lookit me! I'm on stage!

In a Mamet play.  Come check it out and tell me I was fabulous even if I wasn't.  Thank you.

DAMN!

I played trumpet in high school and don't anymore.  But it gave me a special appreciation for trumpet playing that has lasted all my life.  

I don't know anyone who hasn't at some point in their life enjoyed riding a bicycle and I think maybe that's why everyone will love this. 

Knowing the instrument, even a little, helps you appreciate the mastery of it by someone else. And this guy is a master.  A two-wheeled magician.

Jonathan Schipper

Another artist I really believe.  Visit his site, see his work, visit his show at Pierogi.  This piece below, "Measuring angst", is mesmerizing and spectacularly, impossibly beautiful.

A smile on my face

This (via Swiss Miss)  just put a big smile on my face.  Dirty little nerd secret: I've always had a soft spot for a capella singing groups small and large: the Manhattan Transfer, Take 6, barbershop quartets, glee clubs, choirs and choruses, Bobby McFerrin, Al Jarreau.

Who figures this stuff out?

Really?  How does one stumble upon information such as this?

Gather the kids.

Gather 'em up around the old iMac and check this out; it's good, cleanish family fun.  

Dog Malfunction

Mother's Day gift idea

For the mom in your life.  I swear I know a mom in Woodstock who wears that vest every day to pick up her kids at school.

Nick Cave, not that Nick Cave

I saw this work online a while back and it keeps popping into my head.  Beautifully unusual stuff. 

You can see more of it here: on the Jack Shainman Gallery website and here in a short video about the artist:

Sometimes nothin' is a real cool hand

I love the internet.  This song, this movie, this composer (Lalo Schifrin) popped into my head this morning and here it all is, on YouTube.  Hot dang.  Back in the olden days you could look for weeks to get all this information and content and maybe not even be successful.  This scene is from one of my favorite "the main character is actually representative of Christ" works of art ever; the movie Cool Hand Luke, starring Paul Newman, who was nominated for an Oscar for this role.  George Kennedy was nominated and actually won the Oscar for supporting actor.  For more information on the film, click here. 

For the most famous soundbite from the film, click here.

Big smile

For some reason this picture put a big smile on my mug.  Maybe it's because it is such awesome evidence that America can change for the better.  Lookit these guys, supahstars, thrilled to be in each other's company and evidently respecting the hell outta each other.  God bless America.

The Dark Night of the Hummingbird

I came across this today while searching the depths of my external hard drive for something else.  I haven't seen a hummingbird yet this spring, but it's just a matter of days until their huge buzz starts startling.

The Dark Night of the Hummingbird

by Diane Ackerman

A lot of hummingbirds die in their sleep,
dreaming of nectar-sweet funnels they sipped.
Moth-light, they swiveled at succulent
blooms, all flash and ripple--like sunset,
but delicate, probing, excitable,
their wings a soft fury of iridescence,
their hearts beating like a tiny drumroll
fourteen hundred times a minute,
their W-shaped tongues, drawing nectar
down each groove, whispering: wheels within wheels.
By day, hovering hard, they fly nowhere
at speed, swilling energy. But to refuel,
they must eat, and to eat they must hover,
burning more air than a sprinting impala.

So, in the dark night of the hummingbird,
while lilies lather sweetly in the rain,
the hummingbird rests near collapse,
its quick pulse halved, its rugged breath shallow,
its W-shaped tongue, & bright as Cassiopeia,
now mumbling words like wistful and wan.
The world at once drug, anthem, bright lagoon,
where its heart knew all the Morse codes
for rapture, pales into a senseless twilight.
It can't store enough fuel to last the night
and hoist it from its well of dreams
to first light trembling on wet fuchsia,
nor break the hard promise life always keeps.
A lot of hummingbirds die in their sleep.

Columbine

It's the 10th anniversary of the Columbine shootings today, a tragedy that moved me to create several pieces of art-commentary over those years. Two of them can be seen below, more of them can be seen here: http://www.funism.com/art/youth_culture.html.

The bandwagon

Okay, this guy's work owns the blogosphere, but I just can't help posting it, it's that cool. Photoshopographer Peter Funch, via every other blog out there, click here to view more.

So broken

Perhaps you know the Leonard Cohen lyric from "Suzanne": "And you know that she's half crazy/ But that's why you want to be there".  If you're a guy who was ever attracted to a nutty girl: a) that lyric resonates with you, and b) you'll love Bjork in this really beautiful song:

Dunno Y I do . . .

. . . but I love this so much.  Via Swissmiss:

Dancing robots are so cool

This Beck video for "Hell yes" is a few years old by now, but it popped up in my head this afternoon and so I'm sharing it with you now.  Enjoy.

SNL Lawrence Welk

Watching this again.  It does not get old.

Alex Valentine

Once in a while (okay, maybe it happens more than that), I see something that I not only wish I had thought of, but also sorta feel I could have thought of. These 4 line poems are the latest manifestations of that phenomenon. They're the music video for a song by Alex Valentine"

horror vacui

Check out this awesome (and beautifully titled) post on Accidental Mysteries; it totally caught my imagination.  It's about horror vacui, which, far as I can see, is a fear of empty space.  Perhaps it's because I'm in the stuff-making business that I find the compulsion to fill up blank space with stuff so interesting.  There's more information on the illness/compulsion/personality trait here on a blog called "(what is this?)".  This guy's apartment is a primitivist masterpiece.

On this site stood . . . FOOD

The first bronze plaque for the "On this site stood - lower Manhattan" show is in and up; it's all very exciting.  It can be seen starting tomorrow night at "FOOD" a fine group exhibition curated by Mary Anne Erickson which can be seen at SUNY Ulster's Muroff Kotler Visual Arts Gallery.  For more details on the show, click here.

Stephen Colbert

Crap. When this guy's on, there's nothing better. This chuckle-tastic interview came to me via my favorite blog: Cajun Boy in the city. Chew on this:

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Better Know a District - Wyoming's At-Large - Cynthia Lummis

Colbert Report Full Episodes
Political Humor

Rap Battle
NASA Name Contest

Squeak the squirrel

If you were hoping to take a trip through the years today, back to the time when dimmed lights in a warm room didn't send you straight to slumber land, but rather presented an opportunity to pass notes or flirt or cut up or actually learn something, today's your lucky day. Behold Squeak, dig voice over:

Watch Squeak the Squirrel in Ephemeral Films  |  View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

WWRD?

I made WWRD in January around inauguration time and didn't really do anything with it because I guess deep down, I really really respect Obama's cool demeanor, his refusal to get nasty on the republicans the way they do on democrats.

SNL addressed this topic on Saturday so I dug WWRD out of the external hard drive and share it now, along with SNL's hilarious sketch in which Samberg rocks as a gleeful Rahm Emanuel. Enjoy:

More on SILF's

And please, don't be so literal.  They are not actually SILF's, they're just good looking scans of cut sandwiches.  http://scanwiches.com/ via http://noquedanblogs.com/.

Harvey Danger's 'Flagpole Sitta'

Woke up this morning remembering this video. I think I love it because it makes that office look like the coolest place ever to work.


Lip Dub - Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger from amandalynferri on Vimeo.

Also, I love it for the SILF t-shirt, which inspired me to do a bunch of my own, a couple of which are here:

Happy, Wayka, Bailey, Junebug

Watch this great short written and directed by my old friend Frank Todaro:



And this, by Bill Plympton, which I saw this morning on the drawn blog and which reminded me of Frank's short:

Funny Videos | Funny Cartoons | More Video Clips

Happy, Wayka, Bailey and Junebug are all the dogs I've had since I was a kid, not counting the three-legged dog Pilou, who I only baby sat for a couple of weeks.

To kill a mockingbird

Watched "To kill a mockingbird" last night with my daughters, Daisy and Alice.  What a crazy relevant film this still is -- for me, for the kids and for America.  Set in the Great Depression era American south, it deals with themes of racism, poverty, and in a general way, a way that makes it resonate with all kids who see it, it deals with the fear of the unknown -- the different, the strangers amongst us, be they dangerous (Mr. Ewell, the rabid dog) or benign (Boo Radley, Tom Robinson).

Hatred of the different is defused in one scene that I can't find on YouTube, the courthouse steps scene, where a lynch mob shows up to lynch the black defendant, Tom Robinson.  Atticus Finch is guarding Tom but is losing ground to the mob, when his uninvited children crash the scene and derail the bloodthirst.  Scout's famous lines:

"Hey, Mr. Cunningham. I said Hey, Mr. Cunningham. Don’t you remember me, Mr. Cunningham? I’m Jean Louise Finch. You brought us some hickory nuts one early morning, remember? We had a talk. I went and got my daddy to come out and thank you. I go to school with your boy. I go to school with Walter. He’s a nice boy. Tell him ‘hey’ for me, won’t you?"

I love this movie so much and to my delight, my 10 and 12 year old girls loved it too.

Here's a scene from the beginning that seems especially relevant in today's economic climate:

If you haven't seen it recently, do so soon. 

Kelly's Heroes

Some of my favorite movies of all time are WWII flicks.  This one, "Kelly's Heroes" is unusual in its genre, primarily due to Donald Sutherland's character, Sgt. Oddball, who is all about keeping it positive.  This movie was released in 1970, the same year as the most famous Korean War movie of all time: M*A*S*H, also starring Sutherland as Capt. Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce.

I can't put my finger on why, but these clips have been on my mind a lot lately.  Enjoy:

Doctor Ronald Chevalier

Watch this please, click around, check out the art and videos.  Methink youlike: http://ronaldchevalier.com/

Tinnitus

I read this this morning and was struck at the resonance between this word and yesterday's word of the day.  So, here it is, (I promise this won't be an everyday occurence) today's word of the day, tinnitus, as defined by Jerome Groopman in The New Yorker: 

"Tinnitus -- the false perception of sound in the absence of an acoustic stimulus, a phantom noise . . . "

Saw'dadi

Word of the day.  Saudade.  Check out this definition from A.F. Bell, via wikipedia:  ' Saudade has been described as a "vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist..." '  Freefloating yearning.  Heavy.

1966 or so

My parents (and I'm guessing, the parents of everybody else who is my age) had this album when I was a young boy.  It created my earliest and perhaps most enduring fantasies.  I happened upon this album cover the other day and just had to share.  Or overshare, as the case may be.  Yum.

"Ode to Billie Joe" sung by Bobbie Gentry

Here's Bobbie Gentry singing "Ode to Billie Joe", one of my favorite songs ever.   This video is a piece of art in its own right.  I'm guessing that it's from 1967, the year the song was released.

I liked this fortune and then one of the kids (we all know which one) ripped it into pieces and I loved it. Thanks to Daisy for helping me find all the pieces.

Awesome and just a little bit gross. Enjoy.

More on the theme of inspiration, this one from http://noquedanblogs.com/

Inspiration

I've loved this prose poem on inspiration since I first read it in Harper's magazine so many years ago.

The ships

by Constantin Cavafy

From Imagination to the Blank Page. A difficult crossing, the waters dangerous. At first sight the distance seems small, yet what a long voyage it is, and how injurious sometimes for the ships that undertake it.
The first injury derives from the highly fragile nature of the merchandise that the ships transport. In the marketplaces of Imagination most of the best things are made of fine glass and diaphanous tiles, and despite all the care in the world, many break on the way, and many break when unloaded on the shore. Moreover, any such injury is irreversible, because it is out of the question for the ship to turn back and take delivery of things equal in quality. There is no chance of finding the same shop that sold them. In the marketplaces of Imagination, the shops are large and luxurious but not long-lasting. Their transactions are short-lived, they dispose of their merchandise quickly and immediately liquidate. It is very rare for a returning ship to find the same exporters with the same goods.
Another injury derives from the capacity of the ships. They leave the harbors of the opulent continents fully loaded, and then, when they reach the open sea, they are forced to throw out a part of the load in order to save the whole. Thus, almost no ship manages to carry intact as many treasures as it took on. The discarded goods are of course those of the least value, but it happens sometimes that the sailors, in their great haste, make mistakes and throw precious things overboard.
And upon reaching the white paper port, additional sacrifices are necessary. The customs officials arrive and inspect a product and consider whether they should allow it to be unloaded; some other product is not permitted ashore; and some goods they admit only in small quantities. A country has its laws. Not all merchandise has free entry, and contraband is strictly forbidden. The importation of wine is restricted, because the continents from which the ships come produce wines and spirits from grapes that grow and mature in more generous temperatures. The customs officials do not want these alcoholic products in the least. They are highly intoxicating. They are not appropriate for all palates. Besides, there is a local company that has the monopoly in wine. It produces a beverage that has the color of wine and the taste of water, and this you can drink the day long without being affected at all. It is an old company. It is held in great esteem, and its stock is always overpriced.
Still, let us be pleased when the ships enter the harbor, even with all these sacrifices. Because, after all, with vigilance and great care, the number of broken or discarded goods can be reduced during the course of the voyage. Also, the laws of the country and the customs regulations, though oppressive in large measure, are not entirely prohibitive, and a good part of the cargo gets unloaded. Furthermore, the customs officials are not infallible: some of the merchandise gets through in mislabeled boxes that say one thing on the outside and contain something else; and, after all, some choice wines are imported for select symposia.
Something else is sad, very sad. That is when certain huge ships go by with coral decorations and ebony masts, with great white and red flags unfurled, full of treasures, ships that do not even approach the harbor either because all of their cargo is forbidden or because the harbor is not deep enough to receive them. So they continue on their way. A favorable wind fills their silk sails, the sun burnishes the glory of their golden prows, and they sail out of sight calmly, majestically, distancing themselves forever from us and our cramped harbor.
Fortunately, these ships are very scarce. During our lifetime we see two or three of them at most. And we forget them quickly. Equal to the radiance of the vision is the swiftness of its passing. And after a few years have gone by, if—as we sit passively gazing at the light or listening to the silence—if someday certain inspiring verses return by chance to our mind’s hearing, we do not recognize them at first and we torment our memory trying to recollect where we heard them before. With great effort the old remembrance is awakened, and we recall that those verses are from the song chanted by the sailors, handsome as the heroes of the Iliad, when the great, the exquisite ships would go by on their way—who knows where.

Saw this posted on Swissmiss blog. Holy crap, what amazing singing.

What a beautiful spot.

From Drawn! The Illustration and Cartooning Blog:

"I simply adore this animated Audi ad that features a great blending of 3D and traditional hand-drawn animation. It’s the work of Aaron Duffy (1st Ave Machine) and Russell Brooke (Passion Pictures) who offer up some insight on the spot’s creation over at Motionographer."

Audi: Unboxed from Aaron Duffy on Vimeo.

What is art?  Here's my populist definition:

Art is anything created by anybody that somebody calls 'art'.