verbal constipation

Nike x Maharam collection made from horsehair, featuring three...

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 11:40:05 +0800

Nike x Maharam collection made from horsehair, featuring three classic weaves: basket, check, and striae. (via)

The Oregon Waffle looks good enough to eat.

Faux Friendship - The Chronicle Review

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 02:16:00 +0800

The Facebook phenomenon, so sudden and forceful a distortion of social space, needs little elaboration. … The idea of friendship in ancient times could not have been more different. Achilles and Patroclus, David and Jonathan, Virgil’s Nisus and Euryalus: Far from being ordinary and universal, friendship, for the ancients, was rare, precious, and hard-won.

The article also discusses my idea of friends:

"You used to be near-sighted; now, you’re a woman."

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 01:44:15 +0800

“You used to be near-sighted; now, you’re a woman.”

- Moe (what?)

“The Making of Kandal spanned three decades, four...

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 10:21:00 +0800

“The Making of Kandal spanned three decades, four Presidents, and a move from ink to digital.”

(click the letters to read a typeface’s backstory)

Abstract-O-Meter by Christoph Niemann (click the hearts to view...

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 20:08:00 +0800

Abstract-O-Meter by Christoph Niemann (click the hearts to view his funniest gallery)

google’s new fade-in landing page emphasizes its...

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 00:07:00 +0800

google’s new fade-in landing page emphasizes its minimalist aesthetic. i, for one, love the design’s abundant white space.

Outside The Box by Joseph Pelling

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 22:30:41 +0800

Outside The Box by Joseph Pelling

click “shit” to try www.visuwords.com, an online...

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 21:51:00 +0800

click “shit” to try www.visuwords.com, an online graphical dictionary.

photo dump over at visual crap: lights, fire, light writing,...

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 20:39:00 +0800

photo dump over at visual crap:

lights, fire, light writing, clothes, and a man sleeping

Infinity by Isa Lorenzo Ms. Lorenzo explodes the silence she...

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 12:13:00 +0800

Infinity by Isa Lorenzo

Ms. Lorenzo explodes the silence she confronted in Japan using firecrackers she bought at a hundred-yen store. KA-BOOM-BOOM-POW!

(Release is on view at Silverlens Gallery until December 12)

Architect Lor Calma: Paintings & Sculptures is on view...

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 12:09:11 +0800

Architect Lor Calma: Paintings & Sculptures is on view until January 10, 2010 at the Ayala Museum

The works of the Lor Calma must be viewed in the round to...

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 12:07:55 +0800

The works of the Lor Calma must be viewed in the round to appreciate their grace – what seems like a solid plane of steel on one side, breaks up into folds on another.

(Architect Lor Calma: Paintings & Sculptures is on view until January 10, 2010 at the Ayala Museum)

Metal Discovery Series 2 by Lor Calma The rational functionalism...

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 12:06:24 +0800

Metal Discovery Series 2 by Lor Calma

The rational functionalism of the Bauhaus school of design in Germany, the pure abstraction of De Stijl art in the Netherlands, and the timeless simplicity of Coco Chanel’s Little Black Dress were all born during the years after the First World War. Surrounded by devastation, the originators of these ideas concerned themselves with creating things that would last well into eternity.

Architect Lor Calma, who grew up during the post-war years and reached adulthood just as World War II ended, embraced the same utilitarian philosophy advanced by these modernists.

(Architect Lor Calma: Paintings & Sculptures is on view until January 10, 2010 at the Ayala Museum)

"I would like to strike a style to amaze."

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 17:38:44 +0800

“I would like to strike a style to amaze.”

- The Last Samurai by Helen DeWitt

how something as simple as typography can drive you toward or...

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 17:33:33 +0800

how something as simple as typography can drive you toward or away from that $39 steak — nymag.com

click the steak to read author William Poundstone’s dissection of the marketing tricks built into Balthazar’s menu

New York Magazine takes a look back at the aughts — is...

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 17:12:00 +0800

New York Magazine takes a look back at the aughts — is that what we’re calling it? (click the zeroes by designer David Carson to read all about the past decade)

"I’m wearing a dress because my legs hurt."

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 10:38:00 +0800

“I’m wearing a dress because my legs hurt.”

- Sam, on not wearing pants (my thighs are still punishing me for running and playing flag football after months of being sedentary; the pain is good)

A Star, a Soap and the Meaning of Art - WSJ.com Why James...

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 09:32:00 +0800

A Star, a Soap and the Meaning of Art - WSJ.com

Why James Franco’s appearance on “General Hospital” qualifies as performance art:

… performance art is all about context. “If you bake some bread in a museum space it becomes art, but if you do it at home you’re a baker.”

Mr. Franco’s essay is a performance in itself. Don’t forget to read the comments!

propinquity (noun) - nearness or proximity; affiliation or...

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 23:05:49 +0800

propinquity (noun) - nearness or proximity; affiliation or similarity

“The big houses sat in self-congratulatory propinquity on their level green lawnsstout matrons seated elbow to elbow, implacably chaperoning a ball.” — Brendan Gill, On a residential boulevard of Rochester, NewYork. A New York Life.

Boodle feast

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 22:12:00 +0800

My father’s stories start when the flames die down. He sits, orange-lit by embers and the heat brings him back to the time when he played with knives and guns.

He took my brothers hunting when they were adolescents. My eldest brother felled combed blackbirds and herons when others hit nothing. Unable to wait for the next trip to the wild, my second brother would sit by the window in his room and lure Asian tree sparrows into traps made of thread. Dots of sweat would form on his nose as he sat like a statue for hours, moving only when a bird, tempted by a mountain of rice, would hop into the invisible circle of death he made in our garden.

My father is the kind of man he is — one that holds bonfires and boodle feasts on his lawn — because as a child, he sat in a hut with a slingshot while his older cousins went hunting for wild boar in the foothills of Mount Apo.

With the Aetas as guides, they chased a boar towards the creek and killed it with a single bullet. They threw the carcass in a pit, roasted it, and wiped its blood off their faces. My father partook of the feast, and he remembers how the cold mountain air solidified the boar fat in his mouth. The next morning, they looked at the leftover meat, bloody under the sun. Boars were serious; for fun, they would shoot bats or make arrogant doctors dance to the music of bullets.

And because of that, my father is the kind of man he is. He watched a spider weave its web and counted the number of insects it ensnared. He spat into a river and blew a crowd of needlefish to pieces with his rifle as they fed on his saliva.

Tonight, as I ate grilled pork belly by the light of a bonfire, my father told me stories. He did not eat meat. Instead, he feasted on a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of red wine, with ice.