Archive for the art Category

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Posted in art, class, Oakland, weather on February 4, 2010 by Nada

It’s rained so much here the road is growing grass. Grass.

I’m not quite sure what to do about it. I guess next time the Big Guy cuts the yard, I’ll ask if he wants to cut the street too. Two weekends ago, we went to see the Big Guy’s old auntie and do some chores around her house. Her roof was growing grass. Grass. She has a shake roof, but still. I could use a few dry days, and I think I’ll put in that request now.

Here’s the volcano I made today.
Go ahead. Call me a braggart. Looks pretty realistic, huh? My friend is taking it to the grammar school kids she teaches and showing them how it’ll blow some jello/Kool-aid/vinegar/baking soda magma down its tiny fake mountainside.


Walk About

Posted in art, San Francisco on September 10, 2009 by Nada

I want to San Francisco for a class today. Some days, I love the city; others, it wears me out. The place can be magic, and then there are times when the homeless guy walking in circles carrying his sleeping bag is more than I can take. Today, was a good day. The air was crisp. The fog was at bay, and the sidewalks were washed clean except for the habitual urine stain at the sublevel entrance of the Transbay terminal.

To get to class from Oakland, I take casual carpool, glorified hitchhiking. The driver picks up two passengers beside the drug store, and then wheels through the carpool lane on the bridge, avoiding most of the traffic and the bridge toll. I’ve promised myself this year no more riding with the woman in the green Passat, back seat loaded with dirt clods and dog hair. Today, I got a pleasant woman with a clean car, freshly vacuumed with a whiff of pine. She turned the radio down too when we got in the car, perhaps too low. I could only hear the bass on Billy Jean, but then maybe it wasn’t Billy Jean at all. Every song on the radio sounds like Billy Jean these days.

I got a first hand view of the bridge reconstruction. The best way I can describe it is there’s a new part we travel on now, and an old part that ends abruptly. Chop.

I saw a herd in a courtyard between 2 street level coffee shops imprisoned by their resident over lording skyscrapers. Stick horses, but not the variety we rode as kids.
stick_horseI walked past Etrade, still staunchly parked in its make believe gas station despite the stock market hacking at its own wrist with a plastic picnic knife.
unknown_flowerThe street flower vendors always do well, whether times are bad or good, and particularly if they carry a flower no one can recognize. “Is it from Mars?” I asked the vendor, but she ignored me or did not speak English.

More courtyard art. What are these things? Did the taxpayers pay for any part of them because if we did, I want a refund. The children’s book “The Stupids Step Out” comes to mind.

Happy 4th

Posted in art on July 4, 2009 by Nada


Posted in art, general weirdness, holy crap, YouTube on May 22, 2009 by Nada

I’m afraid I have the same compulsion I do with Teddy Grahams – bite the head off. Is that sacrilegious or just hunger? At the hospital’s gift shop, we have hot Cheetos too. I thought I had learned the Spanish word for that and was telling the patients “pica” but another volunteer, who is fluent in Spanish, said that means penis. I’m hell in the gift shop. I got fired three times yesterday, and I’m going back there today. It’s hard to fire someone who doesn’t get paid. I get there in time for the free lunch.

Goat is the New Black

Posted in animal, art on March 20, 2009 by Nada

…from AZ, of course.

Anti-Mass, 2005

Posted in art on October 6, 2008 by Nada

Cornelia Parker
(b. 1956)

Charcoal and wire,
156 x 132 x 135 in.

This sculpture is constructed from the charred remains of a Southern Black Baptist church that was destroyed by arsonists. In the title, Parker uses the word mass as a reference to both the elemental Christian faith. The seemingly unrelated realms of science and religion are thus brought together in a metaphoric insistence on the power of creativity over violence and destruction. Parker’s cube appears to defy gravity, providing a monumental object for quiet meditation and reflection.

This sculpture confronts views with the temporal nature of everything physical, even as it captures the spirit of those who previously worshiped in the building until the fire turned it into a testament to the violence directed against African Americans. It floats as a miraculous, spectral object that evokes both the lost church and the bodily presence of its congregation through an absence more powerful than any figurative image.