Skip to main content

As silly as it may sound...

...I work very hard to collect pins I care about. I'm referring to Pinterest, of course. I've been on there for quite a while now (has it been years?), and have developed over the course of time an internal filter as to what I will and will not pin. If something interests or amuses me that doesn't quite fit the internal standard I've set for my boards, I may file it away among my "likes," but it will not join my carefully curated collection. (Unless, as recently with the Boromir/Samwise pic "One does not simply walk into Mordor"... unless I just can't help myself.)

So it's a little odd to me that in this last week, while I've been especially artful and moved by the images I've come across (and thusly pinned), that one pin of mine in particular seems to be getting an absurd degree of attention. Here are some of the pictures I've found in the last few days (please follow the links, as they are even more amazing when viewed in the context of their exhibitions):

Matteo Pugliese

The Obliteration Room, is part of Kusama’s Look Now, See Forever exhibition

Zadok Ben David's Blackfield

a light painting, by Rashad Alakbarov


These are incredible images. I do not hesitate to say so, because I had nothing to do with making them. Even so, would you, could you imagine just which of my many pins is the most popular?

It's this one:

a pearl-encrusted ornament from Anthropologie. 

Go figure.

Comments

  1. Jessica Therrien31 January, 2012 09:15

    Yeah...kinda weird. I like the first one best. They're all amazing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Unknown31 January, 2012 10:32

    I love that one! Every time I look at it I notice something different, like how the shadows his body makes on the wall are kind of a part of the whole piece. Anyway...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

window in the sub

Dear Nathaniel, I am microwaving pie that Mom bought up in Oak Glen this week on her way home from the orthodontist. As I put it in the microwave, I was full of sadness that I was not in Oak Glen with her. Why did I not go? I was working. I want to see the trees turn. I want to wander slowly through autumnal gift shops. Under the water, you cannot sense the approach of the seasons. Even here it is difficult because, after all, it's California. But I can still sense it. After three seasons in Illinois and one in Scotland, it must be with me for good. Or at least for a while. Because I am all abuzz with eagerness for fall and winter, for turkeys and dried leaves and Santa. I should start cooking again this fall. Fall foods are my favorite. Baked squash dripping with melted butter and brown sugar, pumpkin soup... this year, if I have enough money, I will put together a holiday dinner for my friends. And we will drink Scandinavian mulled wine, which is the most wonderful thing I have e...
13 comments
Read more

Upcoming

Later this month, I'll be starting another ten-week book group in which we'll be reading through three Madeleine L'Engle novels along with Walking on Water . I've featured two of them in my "Book Therapy" box on the left, one of which is there now. Like any normal Madeleine L'Engle reader, we'll begin with A Wrinkle in Time . If you haven't read it since you were a kid, now's your chance. Read along with us and tell me what you think. I have very few expectations for the group, which is probably a good thing. (Few is not the same thing as low, by way of clarification.) Half the attendees have been with us before, and the other half are brand new. We'll see how it goes. 
1 comment
Read more

At the close of nine years

I'm moving to Texas in less than two months. I've lived in Long Beach now for nine years. Already I have stacks of books covering my dining room table that I'll be reading for my PhD program in the fall. I've quietly begun the tedious work of sorting and cleaning everything in my little apartment. I'm scheduling all of my last days with friends, moving through my calendar in reverse order from when I expect to slip into my car and drive away. This is the longest I've lived in one place, so I've never really experienced a leaving quite like this before. I remember the day I left Wheaton, closing the bedroom door on my best friend, walking down to Chaeli's car so she could drive me to the airport. (The greatest grace of Texas is that she will be there. Some friends we never lose completely.) I remember leaving California for Scotland—walking away from my mother in the Palm Springs airport. We leave people who have changed us, and we leave places that ha...
1 comment
Read more