even*cleveland: mirrors

Showing posts with label mirrors. Show all posts

gifts for question-askers

A vintage cup for reading the tea leaves. (More here and here.)

A dictonary of symbols, for deciphering meanings, and a dreamlike Borges oracle by Catalina Kobelt for finding questions.

An obsidian mirror for peering into the dark.

Uusi's Supra deck for Jungian reflection.

An enamel "he loves me, he loves me not" spinning top pendant, for protecting unwary daisies from the lovelorn.

A fortune-telling pencil sourced from a mystical machine in Des Moines that will provide a yes, no, or maybe so answer.

A Hades Wool sweater with the lyrics to Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" for cloudy realities.

Pat Perry's risograph-printed open call for guidance for anyone seeking to be "part of a collective search for perspective in confusing times."

A 32-sided 1930s-era fortune-telling dice for more answers than you can get from a Magic-8 Ball.

Hysteric Glamour's "You Pay" keychain to end arguments over picking up the tab.

And for finding a fortune worth keeping, a bucket of cookies, plus a frame for the best one.

I will add waaaaay down here, in an abashed moment of self-promotion, that I am the editor of a series of open-ended oracle decks written by Ellen Freeman and illustrated by Bethany van Rijswijk that are quite beautiful and interesting, if you happen to like mushrooms, flowers, seashells, fairy tales, rocks, cats, or space. Unlike tarot, these oracle decks do not offer traditional meanings, and they don't promise answers—instead, they are way to play with thoughts and ideas using imagery and scraps of myth, folklore, history, and science.

gifts of clarity and reflection

A prism, for making rainbows whenever the sun comes out.

A deck of prompts from Moon Lists, to inspire thinking in new directions (pre-order).

Masunobu Ando's silver-glazed ceramic coffee dripper, for brewing head-clearing cups, or a tea for getting more out of your dreams.

Shiny sequin-printed socks by Maria la Rosa, for subtle sartorial surrealism.

Haneda stand mirrors, built to reflect the Golden Ratio.

A "deliciously sparkly antique faceted crystal Rivière" (I swoon), found by Kindred Black.

Sugahara glass river stone paperweight, for doing a heavy task with admirable lightness.

Blown-glass vases, for seeing into the roots of things.

Pauline Oliveros' guide to learning "to listen beyond the edge of your own imagination."

A replica Victorian-era butler's ball, to use for discreet observation via reflection.

A mirrored bookmark, and a book meant to be read more than one way.

Cirque's sterling nail polish for fingers that look like they have been dipped in silver.

Eric Ericson's "Self Image" pewter mirror, for showing more than one face.

One more indulgence: These funny gift guides are an annual delight to compile for all of you anonymous folks out there. I don't make any money from them—no affiliate links, no placements, nada! I'm an online renegade!—but if they have brought you joy or amusement, please consider making a donation to Doctors Without Borders. I'm donating what I can, too, and holding the people of Palestine, Ukraine, and Sudan in my heart. Thank you.

set of three / 9.16.2019

What Howe mastered, beyond the Ponzi scheme, is what experts call an “affinity fraud” — going after a group of people who have something in common, and most often who the scammer has something in common with too. As an “unprotected” woman herself, Howe understood what might appeal to her clientele.

Rose Eveleth, "The No. 1 Ladies Defrauding Agency." Longreads, July 2019: "What a 19th-century scammer can teach us about women, lying, and economic boom-and-bust cycles."

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“The demographic we’re selling to is 13- to 17-year-old girls, frankly,” said Weist ... “And these girls are seeking something that they don’t have in their lives through social media, whether that’s comfort or affirmation or validation. And we’re capitalizing on it. Whether you choose to think that’s good or bad, we’re providing love and comfort to these girls.”

Michael Weist, a social media talent manager featured in Jawline, a documentary about "boy broadcasting" influencers.

The aspiration that Caroline Calloway embodies is the ability to express feelings boldly and the freedom to be a mess. This is in many ways more alluring than a nice blue Adriatic.

Choire Sicha and Jonah Engel Bromwich, "Who is Caroline Calloway? An Explainer." NYT, 9/11/2019.

From top:

Hand with mirror. 7th-8th century. Wari. The Met.

Card Number 314, M. Baimer, from the Actors and Actresses series (N145-5) issued by Duke Sons & Co. to promote Cameo Cigarettes,1880s. The Met.

gifts for mycophiles (all ages)

Mushroom puzzle by Mirus Toys.
The Mushroom at the End of the World by Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing:

'Here, we witness the varied and peculiar worlds of matsutake commerce: the worlds of Japanese gourmets, capitalist traders, Hmong jungle fighters, industrial forests, Yi Chinese goat herders, Finnish nature guides, and more. These companions also lead us into fungal ecologies and forest histories to better understand the promise of cohabitation in a time of massive human destruction.'

Foraging basket for toting snacks, magnifiers, and field guides (available in kid size, too).
Vintage mushroom teaching models.
Iris Hantverk mushroom brush.
YMC Poacher jacket (pockets are handy in the field).
Angled, telescoping mirror (invaluable for peeking under mushroom caps to check for pores, gills, or spikes.)
Chocorooms! (A safe snack choice.)
Gabriella Kiss shelf fungus earrings (see also: this stunner with mushrooms, sterling slugs, and labrodorite dewdrops.)
Midcentury Swedish vase.
John Derian x Arts and Science scarf with mushrooms.
The Mushroom Fan Club by Elise Gravel (the book that sparked a full-bore mycological obsession in my family this fall, leading to many epic mushroom walks and countless discussions about the dangers of various Amanitas).

gifts some mothers might enjoy

I am distracting myself from political insanity by compiling idiosyncratic and not-so-timely gift ideas for Mother's Day.

From top to bottom:

Triple pearl earrings by Sarah Appleton (other pearls: this Yayoi Forest necklace is lovely and slightly more affordable, and these tiny earrings are a steal.)
Pink ceramic vases by Raquel Vidal and Pedro Paz
Bernadette Mayer, Works & Days:

Part springtime journal (“why are there thorns?”), Works and Days meditates on the first wasps and chipmunks of the season, times’ passage, grackle hearts, and dandelions, while also collecting dozens of poems considering the Catholic Church, Sir Thomas Browne, “Go Away” welcome mats, books, floods (“never of dollar money”), the invention of words, local politics, friendships, property development, dogs, and Hesiod. Every page delights. As the poet herself notes: 'My name is Bernadette Mayer, sometimes / I am at the head of my class.'

Cosmic Sunbeams sun flare mirror
Tosan x Fashion Mamas t-shirt
French daydream socks (for my inner Magritte)
Alys tall tote by Ceri Hoover (current dream bag)
Saturn Press thunderstorm notecards (current mood)
A dozen roses (that will never die)