Bolt Graffiti

Another clever use of an open bolt hole in a downtown sign pole.

What's not to love. . . a piece that seems created just for me. The letter "A" smack dab in the middle. A couple of bees for my brother and all on wood bolted to something that already had an empty hole. Graffiti that hurts no one, damages no property.

Like knit graffiti, it's a crime with no victims.

Love it.

skyrises and highscrapers

I am super lucky to live in Chicago. I love the city. I love the noise and the rush and the tall buildings. 9/11 changed a whole lot of things for me, but it's made me love cities more dearly. Tall buildings feel like a real gift now, a crazy senseless luxury, like magic. And I've looked at them more closely since that day--taking them in and trying to really see them, not just treating them like a back drop. Because we're lucky to have them.

The new Trump Tower looks like a palace down Wabash Ave.

CarCam

Working on a project with my buddy Kari. . . it's really her vision and her project, but I can at least say that I'm honored to help out when and how I can. She's turning her car into a video camera, wrapping the whole thing in knit black fabric that her friends and family are knitting. Then she's also getting the Columbia community to knit three full-sized students, wrapped on mannequins.

All set up for Manifest in three weeks.

Kari finished the hands of her gentleman student, which inspired me to crochet the Green Lantern insignia that goes on the black hoodie he will be wearing. Super fun.

like disembodied muppet hands. . . Somewhere in the world, right now, Ralph is unable to play the piano.

new little monster

I think monsters get a bad rap. . . or at least the under the bed, inside the closet varieties. I think they're all unbearably sweet and just because they're nocturnal, that doesn't mean they want to do us harm. As my dad would say, "they just live at the wrong end of the clock." And so I like to think of myself as an advocate of the multi-eyed, antenna-having, tentacle-wielding set.

Art School

I'm super lucky to work at an arts college.  Many days, it can feel like a job, like going to any office and doing office-y work (though, I admittedly don't have a lot of other experiences for comparison and it feels creative most of the time, so maybe I'm wrong).  But when I go out for lunch and take a look around, there's always a surprise waiting outside.  I should have my camera always glued to my hand.

Yesterday, no camera on me, and I saw a student turn the corner balancing a nearly life-sized elk, painted matte black--made of what? papermache?--walk past totally oblivious people on Michigan Avenue and then turn into a building and disappear.  As if walking around carrying a black elk is totally common place.  And I have no picture to prove it.

Instead I have these. . . a series of strange little drawings two of our students taped to the seat of all twenty bikes locked to the bike rack out front.

Dan missed this

The sky was so beautiful in our backyard yesterday morning. . . and I think my sweetie left too early in the morning to see it in all of its glory.

D, look at how pretty.  Wish you were here.

new pincushions

Rhubarb!

This guy came with the house.  Rhubarb is ubiquitous up here in the north.  It's the first edible thing that pops of the ground in the spring--cold or no--and tides pie-makers over until cherries and berries come in.  I'm not a fan--but my buddy Jill is, so she gets fresh stalks every spring.

Me?  I just like the look of the plant and love it as a big dark visual back drop for the rest of the garden all summer long.

fivetrees spring

This is our third year of owning five tiny apple trees.  When the man and I bought our little bungalow, we planted five colonnade apple trees from Stark Bros in the backyard.  We joked that we would have our own orchard.  But so far, only the central crab apple tree has bloomed. . . until now!

For the first time, we have buds on all of the trees this year. . . so maybe we'll get apples.

crab apple

apple apple

New Bun

Jean Pierre!

I love this building. I wish it were a public building and not a high rise condo, because that means the spectacular views from inside are available only to the exorbitantly wealthy. But the building itself is amazing. I stare at it every day and find new ways of loving it. This is the eastern tower of One Museum Park. The stubby unfinished building to it's west is the second tower of One Museum Park.

At first, it struck me as futuristic--but by a decidedly 1950's idea of the future. It looks like a painting of the future--the sweep up into the skyline, the shape of the top like the prow of a sleek silver ship cutting into the days of tomorrow--like maybe the illustration on the cover of a 50's sci-fi novel. It almost doesn't seem real.

But I also love the darker western side of the tower. One Museum Park is located at the southern end of Grant Park in Chicago. It's the tallest building at that end of the city. And the darker feature of the building seems to mirror and distort the shape of the Sears Tower as if reflecting back the geography and history of Chicago and carrying that into the future. It feels like a very smart building to me.

More Wheat Past Graffiti

Yeah!  Surgeon Head.  

Don't know what it means, but I found it on an electrical box near my office today. It's certainly the brightest and most introspective body-less head I've ever seen.  And maybe that's enough.

Kneadlessly Simple. And How!

Two weeks ago, I bought Nancy Baggett's new bread cookbook, Kneadlessly Simple.  And it's excellent.  I don't have an aversion to kneading, per se, but I've always been terrible at cooking bread (and my mother is ashamed, no doubt, of this weakness).  So, I thought it couldn't hurt to try a different process.

Well, I've made two loaves of Baggett's bread and it's amazing.  Easy to make, nearly no work at all, just mixing ingredients and waiting for a day or two for it to knead itself.  And the bonus is that in that time, it seems to begin to ferment or something?  And you wind up with artisan looking and tasting bread.  So, Yummy.

Here's tonight's loaf as proof--a beautiful brown domed loaf.

Seems the secret to getting good bread out of my kitchen is to remove me as much from the process as possible.  Strangely enough, the same is true of rice and my kitchen as well.

can't stop Spring now

started pulling leaves off my garden this weekend--half heartedly, to be sure, because I'm trying to save the leaves to use in composting once the new composter arrives in our lives. but under those leaves was a good bit of evidence that Spring will not be held back any longer (despite last weekend's snow and a week of high temps of 40 degrees).

Look what I found.

asiatic lilies
like the ghosts of two little flames

peonies
(i think maybe Sarah Bernhardts. . . antiques anyway, transplanted from the family farm)

magnolia bloom breaking out of its grey winter coat


crab apple leafing out
(middle of the five trees of fivetrees fame)

Voila! Cushions de Pins!

There's something so tidy about pincushions. . . something about them that promises more organization in a pretty way. Making them feels like crafting small useful jewels.

papier valise

papier valise is the perfect store for anyone who has ever had an insensible love for old paper products, fancy pins, little accents that look either very french or very 1800's (or if, you're like me and you're part crow and are inexplicably attracted to anything shiny). A Canadian outfit that is delightful to browse.

I just recently made a small order--couldn't help myself. The pins above are part of that purchase and I'm using them for merchandising things on my site. So pretty.

Daisy

Daisy is my newest elephant. . . in a fancy pink capelet.

Honey and His Bro at Fitzgerald's

Last night, I stayed out too late (on a school night!) to see my man, Dan, and his brother Scott play open mic night at Fitzgerald's in Berwyn. They were great, of course, and I love that space. Fitzgerald's is barely outside of the city, but the wood paneling, the taxidermy wall hangings and plenty of customers wearing not just cowboy hats, but also vests (the combo that is a real commitment to Western wear that feels more genuine than just one or the other worn singly) that makes the joint feel more like a bar in Colorado, than anywhere in the Midwest.

Taxidermy specimen at Fitgerald's.

Our buddies Stacey Earley and Eric Zeigenhagen also played. All were just as wonderful as usual.

April in Chicago

So, this last weekend, it snowed in Chicago.  Which, of course, is always possible.  Our last frost date is May 15th. . . but it still seems cruel.

In this picture, snow falling in our backyard, on our neighbor's magnolia (which is already blooming). meh.

someone else's bun

I love etsy for a million different reasons. But today it's "favorites." Favorites are splendid because people can favorite me and I have the instant gratification of knowing that there are people in the world who are looking at my schtuff and enjoying it. But it's even more splendid because it functions like this family tree of happiness. Someone favorites me and then I can look at their shop and their favorites and see what other things they like and discover other amazing folks on etsy.

Etsy is a big place and it's wonderful that there's this easy way to discover different artists. So today, for example, through a favoriter, I found kinglappin and this grumpy disapproving bun just in time for Easter. Love the cute face and the folded arms. I imagine that it's response to any questions I might pose would be, "meh," and a dismissive shrug.


Love. It.

Carriage House Farm Splendor

So, my country mouse family continually sends me emails with pictures of the farm and updates on its progess throughout the year. Which is great. I love it. It sometimes makes me jealous and/or homesick, but I love it.

And now that my brother is hip deep in beekeeping, I get pictures of bees a lot.

Here are the newest pictures which make me terribly jealous right now--because clearly, Cincinnati is in full bloom, while up here in Chicago, we just got an inch of snow. grr.

I'm thinking this first shot is of a crab apple:


the second shot is a tiny fuzzy bee butt busy in this crab apple:

pin cushions

Just recently made a list of things I want to make.  It's a long list and some of the things on it?  I don't even have the requisite skills to complete them yet.

But I can do pincushions.  None are finished yet. . . when they are, pictures to come.  But here are some of the components of future pin cushions:

Ambassadors to Earth at Cary's Lounge

Our buddy Larry is in a new band--Ambassadors to Earth.  Maybe not a "new" band, but still fairly new to him.  They play traditional surf rock and they're great!  Really fun, sometimes verging on the dreamy cocktail edge of the genre. . . makes me a little nostalgic for my early twenties when swing and swing dancing were all the rage with the young punk rock kids.

We went to go see AtE play at Cary's Lounge up on Devon--a funny little neighborhood bar sandwiched between Indian restaurants and Naan factories--and I'm glad we did.  The music made the trip up totally worth it (and Larry's drum solos were amazing!), but so did the ping pong table at the back of the bar.  

That's right. . . not pool.  Ping Pong.  That has to be the worst sport/game for a bar, but the table was nonetheless this cool blue thing of beauty at the rear of the room.

New Bun

This one's definitely a lady rabbit and I think I want a little cape just like hers. . . but in red.

Maybe a Print Design?

Each year, as graduation and Manifest draw closer on Columbia's campus, the graffiti on campus begins to ramp up. There's not much direct freehand spray painting on buildings. We get wheat paste pieces, spray painted stencil pieces (more often on the ground or on the supports that hold up the el tracks on campus), or drawings on labels stuck all over everything.

I'm sure, due to the illegality of this past time, that I shouldn't look forward to it each year. . . but it's as sure a sign of Spring coming as robins in the park or crocuses popping up out of the snow. And it's art. So what's an art and spring lovin' girl to do, I ask you?

This week, I spotted these:

Funny, but I don't agree.  I think you're lovely.