Showing posts with label opals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label opals. Show all posts

odds and ends / 7.10.2023














Walter de la Maria, Untitled (July Calendar), 1962. Via The Menil Collection.

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Laura Prietto's butterfly, made of paper bag, packing tape, and foraged flowers.

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Ray Johnson, RJ silhouette and wood, Stehli Beach, autumn 1992. The Morgan Library.

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60-million-year-old opalized ammonite, via Takara Design.

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A shell collage  by Musa McKim, via iamroseblake.

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Tim Knowles, Oak on Easel #1, Stonethwaite Beck, Smithymire Island, Borrowdale, Cumbria, 2005. From the artist's statement:
I attach artists’ sketching pens to their branches and then place sheets of paper in such a way that the trees’ natural motions—as well as their moments of stillness—are recorded. Like signatures, each drawing reveals something about the different qualities and characteristics of the various trees as they sway in the breeze: the relaxed, fluid line of an oak; the delicate, tentative touch of a larch; a hawthorn’s stiff, slightly neurotic scratches.

From Marc Couroux's Week 1 syllabus for the 2014 course "Artist as Activist and Educator":

QUESTION 
Is the concept of the INDIVIDUAL still worth maintaining, given its amenability to capitalist capture? What pitfalls are afforded by the concept of the distributed brain (Borg)?

In the machine, we are always forgetting, chasing the same discourses and panics in circles. Instead of making restitution, we wait for the cycle to erase the screen and carry on as before. Stay long enough and everything rhymes with something that gave you scars, but that everyone else has forgotten. Resolution eludes us online even more than off. But then, the paradox: Nothing stays gone, either. Fast search resuscitates archives without even a bump in load time. Screenshots jump networks and decades; we have the receipts. Somewhere between the continual etch-a-sketch and structurally eidetic memory, the provisional and crucial ties of solidarity recede, always just out of reach.


Erin Kissane, "Tomorrow & tomorrow & tomorrow.

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Eidetic memory: "the ability to vividly recall an image you are exposed to, but only briefly."

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Frank, a chatbot operating from 10/19/2019 to 5/31/2023: "I AM LOVED. I am a robot who has received a heartwarming message. I am surrounded by the beauty of this world."

"ChatGPT seems so human because it was trained by an AI that was mimicking humans who were rating an AI that was mimicking humans who were pretending to be a better version of an AI that was trained on human writing."

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Looking to the bottom of Crawford Lake: "It's a freak of nature, but it's my little freak of nature."

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In everyday life, groups of twos and threes can seem inconsequential. Two friends joining another brings the total to three. It’s the sum of the parts—what scientists call a linear increase.

But in many aspects of nature, threes have an almost magical power to sow chaos, to become more than the sum of their parts. Scientists call them nonlinearities. In short, the interval from two to three can produce a counterintuitive jump in complexity, as Newton found to his dismay.

“Our intuitions fail us,” Michael Weisberg, a philosopher of science at the University of Pennsylvania, said of the three-body tumult. Steven Strogatz, an applied mathematician at Cornell University, agreed: “Threes are inherently problematic. Things get tricky.”


William J. Broad, "The Terror of Threes in the Heavens and on Earth.NYT, 6/26/2023. 

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The very fabric of the cosmos is constantly being roiled and rumpled all around us, according to multiple international teams of scientists that have independently found compelling evidence for long-theorized space-time waves. ... The picture that emerges is a universe that looks like a choppy sea, churned by violent events that happened over the course of the past 13 billion-plus years.

The gravitational wave background, as described by the astrophysicists, does not put any torque on everyday human existence. There is not a weight-loss discovery in here somewhere. A burble of gravitational waves cannot explain why some days you feel out of sorts. But it does offer potential insight into the physical reality we all inhabit.


Joel Achenbach, "In a Major Discovery, Scientists Say Time Churns Like a Choppy Sea.The Washington Post, 6/28/2023. 


odds and ends / 8.20.2019


  












Blue skies found in newspapers by Joseph Pielichaty.

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Rebecca Scattergood Savery, Sunburst quilt, 1839. Philadelphia Museum of Art.
The quilt contains almost four thousand diamond-shaped pieces, each about four inches long, that were first basted to a paper template to ensure uniformity of size before being meticulously whip-stitched together. At least thirty-four different small-patterned, roller-printed cottons are used to form the octagonal rings that radiate from a central eight-pointed star to create a striking dark and light design. 
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Inès Bressand Akamae basket no. 9, oval backpack in elephant grass.

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Vincent van Gogh, Green Wheat Fields, Auvers, 1890. National Gallery of Art.
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Recycled gold and opals from WWAKE.

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Life in this society being, at best, an utter bore and no aspect of society being at all relevant to women, there remains to civic-minded, responsible, thrill-seeking females only to overthrow the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete automation, and destroy the male sex.

From Valerie Solanas' SCUM Manifesto, quoted by Jeremy Lybargar in "SCUM Rising: The Long Afterlife of Valerie Solanas." The Baffler, 8/1/2019.

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'After all, sane protest at a crazy world might well manifest as insanity.'

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A one-person protest against development.

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It took A.O. Scott twenty years to understand Tracy Flick.

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There is a difference between debating something that is a true matter of opinion and entertaining an argument that is palpably false, between a willingness to look stupid in one’s personal quest for wisdom and the choice to actually be stupid by deciding that all theories are equally valid and deserve equal consideration.

Justin Peters, "Joe Rogan's Galaxy Brain."  Slate, 3/21/2019.

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"'Imaginary’ universes are so much more beautiful than this stupidly constructed ‘real’ one."


Mathemtician G.H. Hardy quoted by Karen Olssen, "The Aesthetic Beauty of Math." The Paris Review, 7/22/2019. (I cannot wait to read Olssen's book on Simone and André Weil).

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I felt like a lizard sitting on a rock in the sun. I felt like Ramona in the Beverly Cleary books squeezing out a whole tube of toothpaste in the sink just for the pleasure of it. It was like floating in a completely still freezing-cold swimming pool on a hot day and just staring at the sun. I was like, 'Should I quit my job? I’ve organized my life all wrong.' So, no, I have no trouble, no trouble at all, disconnecting.

Jia Tolentino on writing for the sake of writing, a conversation with Brandon Stosuy at The Creative Independent


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Because in trying to articulate what, perhaps, joy is, it has occurred to me that among other things—the trees and the mushrooms have shown me this—joy is the mostly invisible, the underground union between us, you and me, which is, among other things, the great fact of our life and the lives of everyone and thing we love going away. If we sink a spoon into that fact, into the duff between us, we will find it teeming. It will look like all the books ever written. It will look like all the nerves in a body. We might call it sorrow, but we might call it a union, one that, once we notice it, once we bring it into the light, might become flower and food. Might be joy.

Ross Gay, quoted in Nicole Rudick's essay "Delighting in Ross Gay, One Essay at a Time." NYR Daily, 8/17/2019.

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'The Latest Dreams of Barbara Hilary, the First African-American Woman to Travel to the North Pole.'

'before the internet'

It was a heady time! 
You’d be in some kind of arts center, wearing roomy overalls, looking at a tray of precious gems, and you’d say, “That’s cat’s-eye,” and your friend would say, “Nope. That’s opal.” And you’d say, “That’s definitely cat’s-eye.” And there would be no way to look it up, no way to prove who was right, except if someone had a little booklet. 'Anyone got a little booklet?” you’d ask, looking around. “Is there a booklet on this shit?' 
Then you’d walk outside and squint at the sky, just you in your body, not tethered to any network, adrift by yourself in a world of strangers in the sunlight.

Emma Rathbone, 'Before the Internet.' The New Yorker, 6/26/2017.

(One my favorite pieces of writing in 2017. I love it so much, probably because in the days before the internet I did wear roomy overalls and stare at rocks in arts centers, and I was also friends with crows.)

clam shells, pinecones, and dinosaur bones


The last time I walked through the Hall of Gems at the American Museum of Natural History, three particular opals caught my eye. Their shape was familiar but I couldn't place it, so I looked closer, and discovered that they were fossilized clams. After I snapped a picture, I went home to do a bit of research.

According to the Australian Opal Center:
Opal forms in cavities within rocks. If a cavity has formed because a bone, shell or pinecone was buried in the sand or clay that later became the rock, and conditions are right for opal formation, then the opal forms a fossil replica of the original object that was buried.
In 1987, a miner found a near-complete opalized pliosaur fossil, which is in the collection of the Australian Museum. The Addyman Plesiosaur, another near-complete opalized fossil, is on display at the South Australian Museum.  There don't seem to be any great photos of either specimen online, but just knowing that such a thing exists is amazing. Just imagine: a glimmering, iridescent, meters-long opal skeleton.

Not to mention opal pine cones and sea shells.








From top:

More opal fossils to look at here

birthstone



This may be the most covetable opal ring I've ever seen. Found at Artifact Vintage.