Hanami

There are a couple of flower-related activities on my bucket list. One is to do with tulips - more specifically, to stand in a field of tulips, and be surrounded by them as far as the eye can see. I've managed to visit the Netherlands three times, and yet none of those trips were the right time of year. Not to despair though, because I've heard a rumour that there is a region in northern Washington, famous for its tulip festival every April. You can be sure where we'll be headed one weekend soon.

The other fantasy of mine is connected to my love of all things Japanese, and that is to partake in hanami - the viewing of cherry blossoms. All the images I've seen over the years of spring in Japan have me wishing I could jump on the next plane there, and follow the sakura (cherry blossom) trail from south to north as they bloom.

Van Gogh's Almond Blossoms (source: Wikipedia)

In a strange little hybrid twist, I even bought myself a print of Van Gogh's Almond Blossoms, after being captivated by it in the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, way back in 1999. Wanting to save it until I had the spare cash to splash on getting it framed properly, I carried that damn print (along with another Van Gogh print) - rolled up in its special box for travellers - from home to home. London to Brighton, to Melbourne, then to Sydney, when I was finally feeling both settled and flush enough to give those prints the frames and wall space they deserved... only five years later. I'm not kidding when I say I procrastinate. This print followed us to the US, and has a special place on our bedroom wall.

I don't know when I'll get to Japan, so yesterday we did the next best thing and visited the University of Washington campus to see the cherry blossoms in their Quad. Of course, we didn't realise at the time, but arborists had declared that weekend to be the best time to see the cherry blossoms, in bloom at 100%. I think every second person in Seattle had the same idea as us - it was insanely busy.

It was also insanely beautiful.

Trespassing

I found myself walking past a large square the other day, flanked by several corporate headquarter-type buildings. It was an area that I usually drive past and pay little attention to so when I noticed the steel sculpture - shining brightly under the midday sun - and nearby water cascading down an elegant water feature, I detoured into the square.

Feasting my eyes on the warped reflections and lines of the sculpture, I cursed myself for not being the type of person to carry her camera 24/7. I should have had the foresight to bring my camera to the gym, right? Instagram was going to have to do.

Anyhow, I began lining up shots and role-playing at being arty farty. It only took about ten seconds to feel as happy as the proverbial pig in mud... when an overweight, cross-eyed security guard approached me and asked me to leave as I was standing on private property.

Really? I gestured toward the street I'd been walking along. I gestured at the broad expanse of paving and lack of signs, barriers, fences or gates to indicate this was private property. I explained I was a passerby who'd just glimpsed this sculpture from the street, and had simply walked over to appreciate it from a closer perspective in what I'd assumed was a public space.

My words fell on deaf ears... because, you know, thirty-something year old blonde women in their gym gear have been known for their dangerous ways in the past.

I left peacefully, but it didn't take long for the cloak of indignation to wrap itself around me. Each footstep closer to home, the more pissed off I became.

This is why: I'm a big believer in public art; something that everyone can have access to and enjoy. Whether it's murals, graffiti, sculptures or performances - that stuff makes me happy, and I'm sure millions would agree.

What the hell is the point in having a beautiful sculpture in a large open space, that only the nearby office-workers are privy to? One that can be easily glimpsed when passing by on the street, but may as well have barbed wire around it if the plebs want to have a closer look? I've been asking myself this for two days now, and I still can't think of an answer.

It's just plain rude. And I am now determined to return for further 'viewings'...

Open

I'm not sure whether it's because enough readers were generous with their time and clicked away madly on the link in my earlier post, or if the Instacanv.as site was simply going to give me some gallery space in due time... but either way, thank you!

My gallery 'opened' last week. If you're curious, click here to browse.

It almost seems too easy. Really, it amounts to me sitting passively on my butt and letting a third party take care of the business of hosting my chosen images and - if I'm lucky and someone wants to put one of my photos on their wall - organising the canvas printing, shipping and payments.

The photos I've chosen would have otherwise just been sitting on my phone and Instagram account. What else was I going to do with them? Why not take advantage, and do a little role play of being an artist? Have some fun?

So there you have it. Who knows whether anyone will buy one of my images, but I can go to sleep at night, telling myself that my art is on display. What's not to love about that?

The teenaged dreamer in me could not be happier.

Shameless

Like millions of people, as a child I dreamed of being an artist one day. I'd always loved drawing and painting, and even from a young age I was aware of the soothing effects they had on me. I didn't care about being famous; I just wanted to be able to sell some of my art. As a teenager, photography also got its claws into me and I began fantasising about selling my photos one day.

Like millions of people, I didn't exactly follow these dreams. I've always enjoyed doing creative things, but my artistic skills have stayed in the amateur ranks. I have fun with it, and now and then I produce a little something with a 'WOW' factor to it.

If you've been reading my recent posts, you'll know that I've developed somewhat of an addiction to Instagram on my iPhone. This week, Instacanv.as has come to my attention - it's a site which allots space to people to sell some of their Instagram photos on canvases. It's a brilliant idea, but there's a catch: a 'gallery' (a personalised URL) will only open if enough other people visit the URL and request a gallery.

I want in.

Purely for fun. You never know, somewhere amongst the millions of people in this world, someone might see one of my photos and want to hang it on their wall. That would be dream-fulfilling stuff for me.

So, this is where I need you to help. I'll pop a link under the image below, and all you need to do is click. Once the page comes up, simply click on the yellow button to 'Request Gallery Opening'. Easy!

Instacanv.as/madinla

I have no idea what kind of numbers are involved, or how popular one has to be in this cyber world... but it's worth a try, right?

Time to pimp myself out and make this happen. Excuse me while I head over to Twitter, Facebook, Google+ and Pinterest. If you're feeling generous, multiple clicks would make me love you even more. 

Thank you!

Retro coolness

As I was taking the Faery to school this morning, it occurred to me that it was probably time to post something in here.

I parked the car in our usual spot, about a block away from the school. We got out, began walking up the street, and I began contemplating what to write...

 ...then I looked up and was greeted by this magnificent sight.

Is that not the most fabulous motor home you've ever seen?

If I had to pick a favourite era - in terms of style - it would be art deco (followed closely by the 1950s and 60s). Judging by the millions of blogs out there, I'm hardly unique but hey - the heart loves what it loves.

I could not stop gawking, and neither could all the other people who were walking past. Now, that is photoworthy, I thought, and whipped out my phone for some snaps.

As soon as I was back home, I googled 'decoliner' (the words on the side) and found this website. Quite an amazing feat. The owner - Randy Grubb - is an automotive artist, and used the chassis of a 1973 GMC motor home and a 1955 truck cabin to make this. I can only be in awe of such creativity and cleverness. 

And yes, that is a steering wheel on the top deck of the motor home - I couldn't see one inside. There is footage on YouTube of this being driven around Portland, Oregon, before the exterior looked as shiny as it does today.

I love how an ordinary morning can turn up something that's extraordinary so that before I know it, my blog has practically written itself.

PS - I am going to miss the Picnik site when it's gone in April. It's provided so much photo-tweaking fun.

Banking on some art and soul

Here's a little secret.

I love myself a bit of subversion.

No one would ever really put me in the rebel boat, but I have a lot of strong opinions and ideals - mostly all in my head. I'm just too lazy to do much about it, really. Sad but true. I did rock my Doc Marten boots that I wore back in the 90s, though.

Last night, I saw a brilliant documentary, although I'm wondering how real it actually is. Perhaps the whole story was a set up, but it was nominated for Best Documentary at this year's Academy Awards, so I'm going to give it the benefit of the doubt. Besides, the main 'character' of the film appeared to be so crazy, that kind of shit can't be made up.

The documentary I'm referring to is Exit Through the Gift Shop. If you like a good story, interesting (read: nutty) characters, and - like me - a bit of subversion, do yourself a favour. Watch it. It's almost worth it alone just for the lilting Welsh-accented narration (courtesy of Rhys Ifans).

The aforementioned features were all great, but what really got my juices going were the images of street art. They appealed very much to the inner artist/rebel in me (who never sees the light of day) - especially the work of Banksy. Clever social commentary, and all that.

I'm not going to pretend that I'm hip and have been following him all these years... but his name definitely rang a bell last night, and I'm guessing that perhaps he was blurrily on my radar when we lived in the UK. Whatever.

The term 'street art' doesn't really do him justice. What he creates is art, pure and simple. I won't waffle on with interpretations and discourse because I did enough of that when I studied Fine Arts to last me a life time.

Instead, I'll leave you with some of my favourite images of Banky's work.

Extra special because it was painted on to
the Israeli West Bank barrier... ballsy
 (Photo source) 

Likewise with this one
(Photo source)

Who doesn't love stained glass?
(Photo source)

Clever
(Photo source)

Aww...
(Photo source)

Poor Thomas
(Photo source)

 I want someone to throw me some flowers
(Photo source)

I think I may have a new hero.