Nicole

There's a ceramic artist in Oklahoma City who makes corsets out of clay.  

But that's not what I'm going to show you today. Today I'm going to show you pictures of her bathroom, which is the most spectacular bathroom I've ever seen. There's no way to give that place justice, so you'll just have to make do with some of my paltry photography and go from there.  

First of all, the artist: 

Nicole Moan

Secondly, the method: She designs pictures, oftentimes based on her father's art, and then reconfigures the art in ceramic tile. Not square tiles, mind. This is ceramic tile in all shapes and sizes: everything from swirls to puzzle pieces to stars to squiggles. She first has to make the tile--an extraordinarily time-consuming process as I can fully attest, and then she methodically installs it so that it becomes representational art. Then of course she has to grout it all, which is arguably more of a pain in the ass than the tile work. 

I'm featuring her bathroom here, but her entire living room floor is her own ceramic design (again, based on her father's artwork), as is her main hallway, and of course the the kitchen counters and backdrop are an eye fiesta. 

On the subject at hand. 

Her bathroom, floor to ceiling, is decorated in this wonderful "Under the Sea" motif. And when I say floor, I don't mean she has blue 4-inch ceramic tiles on the floor so she could concentrate on the walls and ceiling. I mean the floor is a canvas in-and-of* itself. 

Naturally I didn't take pictures of the floor.  

But you can see pictures of it here, along with her wonderful bathtub and toilet. I would frankly be scared to do my business on that throne for fear of insulting the thing. 

Here are some detail pics. These are just little treats that are around her (several) mirrors: 

Sometimes I feel like somebody's watching me. 

One. By. One. she installed these details. This is OCD at its best. 

This is the sink. Complete with a bug in a bottle. Which no bathroom should be without. 

The counter top is designed to look like water is flowing onto the floor, so the floor (Yeah, I'm back to the floor. What of it?) by the counter is textured in such a manner to emulate water. 

Stay with me.  

You can see from the sink picture that her hand-made, costume counter top is configured of some plastic-y, resin-y substance that can be only be summed up as witchcraft. Add to this the knowledge that there are multiple layers of goodness to look at on the counter alone, including glitter (!), and I swear to Poseidon you'll feel like you're on an acid trip after being in there for three minutes.** 

Here's a glimpse of the ceiling: 

  

Who has the patience for this? I would be a drunk by now. Seriously.  

You see those pieces on the bottom section? Those are actually mirror shards reflecting the ceiling pattern. 

I'll give you a minute.  

.......

Check this out: She even had the nerve to put WINE BOTTLES in the opening where her window was. Here's a snippet of her window...you can get a feel for the concept here. 

Takes going green to whole new level.  This is destined to happen in my home somewhere. 

The entire installation took three months of almost constant work to complete.

She says sometimes her friends will call her and ask her to come over to take a bath. I personally maintain she's at risk every time she allows someone who doesn't live in the house to cross the threshold. Because if it were me, I would padlock myself in there and never leave.  -> 

*Do you hyphenate "in and of"?
**I assume. I've never actually done acid, but that bathroom can't be a far-off depiction of the kaleidoscope+ I understand goes on in the brain after ingestion. 
     +Of course I didn't spell that correctly the first time.   

The Gun Show

I thought for a long time about what my new project was going to be.  And for months (literally) I thought I had it.  "Helping Hands" was what I was going to call it and the idea was to try and get pictures of exactly that: hands in any helping capacity.  It seemed like a workable theme if not all that exciting--nauseatingly uplifting, as a matter-of-fact.  Yes, there were going to be some practical barriers that I was going to have to endure, but I was prepared for that.  I told a few friends.  I started taking pictures to feel it out.  I even had a rough-draft in my head for the blog entry introducing it.  I was that committed to the theme. 


But about a week before the end of my last project, I had an inspiration.  


Guns.  


I really wanted to continue working with commentary on American culture, and guns are as ingrained in our fabric as apple pie and football.  Let's be clear here:  I hate guns.  I do not own one, do not have any intention of owning one, do not interpret the second amendment as giving the right of private citizens to own one (that little word "militia" you see), do not feel that we are a safer country because we allow private citizens to own them, and do not have any kind of desire to change my perspective on the matter. 


And yet...


I find the thought of focusing a camera lens on them for the next year to be wholly fascinating.  Be mindful that this is the theme, and not every picture will have a gun per se.  But I do want to get some shots of people holding them, which means I'm going to have to eventually knock on some Facebook doors (I already have three people in mind).  I suppose I could go up to random strangers and ask if they're packing and then explain my reasoning for wanting their picture ("It's for art!").  But that could very well get me shot, which would sort of defeat the purpose.  


What this series of photos will NOT contain are gunshot wounds from any of the ERs where I work. For one thing, I don't see them all that often, and when I do they're generally covered in gauze and not very gory.  Secondly, I don't do gore. Thirdly, there's this thing called HIPAA in place, and posting such photos here would get me canned.  Call me silly, but I'm not into getting canned.  I kinda like my job. 


I will also not prosyletize on any of my entries...


Say you: You lie!  LIE!  
Say me: I don't!  


I'm letting my feelings be known here.  I think the pictures will speak for themselves.  There will be a Flickr stream eventually (I need pictures for it first, of course).  You can go here for my self-imposed rules.  I'll post the first picture on Monday, September fifth and will wrap up the project Labor Day weekend 2012.  


Hope you'll come along for the ride.  But I won't shoot you if you don't.  Stab, perhaps, but not shoot. -> 

Windmills for Your Viewing Pleasure

I took this photo in Mykonos, Greece back in June.  I entered it into a photo show and low and behold!  Success!  It will be matted, framed and on display in the Paseo Arts District in Oklahoma City for about a month.  


As I've been promising, a NEW photo project is in queue so stay tuned!  -> 

Related articles

• Home of the pelicans! - Mykonos Town, Greece (travelpod.com)
• The Beautiful People - Mykonos, Greece (travelpod.com)

Shameless Self Promotion

All this picture-taking with my goofy little camera phone has paid off!  I entered and was chosen to be in an art show that is featuring pictures made on cell phones.  The photo I took is even part of the advert on the website. Quite exciting!  You should totally come to Oklahoma City before October 1, 2011 so you can see this exhibit.  ->  

HO7

I saw these kinds of pictures quite a bit when I first arrived in Athens. They certainly appear to be acrylic on canvas and done by a local artist, which I thought was a rather lucrative setup for said artist. Nice, pretty little painted scenes of local attractions. The first shop I saw them had a few and I thought they were pretty nifty. Plus they were quite inexpensive for original art.

Then I noticed them in several shops in Athens. Then in Mykonos. And finally on Santorini. Each shop had a ton of them. I imagine they're on every island that attracts tourists. Which leads me to wonder if it's not one artist but several working in sweatshop conditions to produce the amount of work we saw in just a few days in four different cities at countless shops. Or maybe it is just one artist with OCD. Who doesn't sleep. Ever. ->

Icons

As expected, I'm beginning to speak a brand new language here.

It's the language of tour guides.

My knowledge is rudimentary at this point, but I'm grasping quickly.

For instance, when the tour guide says "Now we are going to stop at a local factory so you can see how (enter your favourite tchotchke here) is made." This translates to: "Now we are going to stop at a gift shop so you can buy stuff you never knew you wanted until right now, and I can make a percentage off the sales."

Turkish Pottery

No, I didn't buy this. Yes. I bought something. Because God forbid I walk into any of these demure, quaint establishments and not support the local monopoly artisans. ->


-Posted using (enter requisite phrase which brags about your cool gadgets and applications for said gadget here)

Location:Atmeydanı Cd,Istanbul,Turkey

Shoe Box

 

If there was ever an artist that was brilliant at combining art and commerce it was Andy Warhol.  His bread and butter from the late sixties until his death were his "celebrity portraits".  (No, not Liz Taylor or Elvis, or Marilyn.  He made those for art. Besides, Marilyn's death inspired that series. I saw this one a few years ago. ) 

No, I'm talking about all the others. Screen prints of celebrities and monied people made from a Polaroid picture, he charged $25,000 for the first portrait and $5,000 for each additional one. Which in today's dollars translates to almost 100 grand.  

A bargain, really.  

I can't remember now exactly what started my Warhol binge, but for a couple of years I read every book about him I could get my hands on.  He wasn't a nice man. He was a workaholic that tended to take advantage of those around him--use them and throw them away.  From the very beginning, even before he made his transition from commercial artist to a fine artist, he had people in his posse do work for him for free.  Many of his earlier works were actually completed and signed by his mother, with whom he lived for years. He was a media whore obsessed with money and fame; he had amassed an estate estimated at half a billion dollars at the time of his death.  He didn't strike me as a particularly happy man.  

And yet I've always had an affinity for his art.  I find it fun and whimsical and accessible. Well, accessible on museum walls anyway.  I certainly couldn't afford any of his originals, which ironically makes them not accessible at all as art should be.  So I satisfy my cravings with accessories like this and consolation prizes like these.  I keep telling myself I'm going to jaunt to Pittsburgh and see his museum there, but I've yet to go.  

Because he was a lover of technology and reproduction, I imagine he would have adored the iPhone and in particular the Hipstamatic and photo booth applications. (I made myself use the "random" mode for this particular picture today.)  And hey!  There's a Warhol app!  I would download it, except I'm fairly certain he had no pivotal moments in his life that occurred in Oklahoma. ->

Related articles

• Art: The Best And Worst Of Warhol (time.com)
• Andy Warhol Portrait of Elizabeth Taylor to Sell for $30 Million Dollars (femmesdallure.com)
• Art: A Caterer of Repetition and Glut: Andy Warhol: 1928-1987 (time.com)

Tick Tock

Isn't this the coolest ring?  Santa gave it to me for Christmas with heavy, heavy guidance (read: I picked it out at the Girlie Show and Mom bought for me and then made me wait.) If you can't tell, it's a clock mechanism that's been reconfigured.  


I love this thing.  -> 

eggs

Say you: This is not a Christmas photo.  I was expecting....

Say me: Listen, I act on the opportunities.  And no one can over look a convenient store with an entire outside wall that is covered in mosaic.  

Take a gander:  

click to enlarge for details

How extraordinary is that?  Two days in a row and I hit the mother-load of photogenic objects. It's a Christmas miracle!  I'm sure I won't see anything like this again until I'm on day 363, so you know I'm going to post more than one pic. 

 I took several pics of course.  But I gotta tell ya, it was bloody cold out there and the lighting was not so great with the overcast skies and hello! it's Christmas eve and I've sorta got merlot on board, so I'm only going to offer a couple of more.  ICE! 

and my handsome son, AKA "The Boy". ->

Darci Dolls

My friend makes these and sells them at local fairs.  Everyone in her inner and outer circle of friends has at least one. They're happy and fabulous. ->

Pic Frames $15

As noted in yesterday's post, I went out with friends last night.  We went here.  It's a high craft/art show and only women are allowed to enter their creations.  It's conscientious consumerism, because even though you're shopping for Christmas presents and are likely buying stuff for yourself that's completely frivolous (read: bracelets made from recycled vinyl records) it's OK because you're supporting female, and possibly local artists.  Two of my friends were girlies this year: Darci Lenker and Ruth Ann Borum-Loveland. (I'm sure my vast readership will soon result in sales reaching two figures.  I should warn them I'm doing this...)

The show opens on Friday nights, but seeing as I tend to get distracted by the club specials at the cash bar all the yummy food on display from local restaurants, I always return the following day, usually with my mom and Little Missy in tow, to get my real shopping done.  This year my mother-in-law tagged along as well.  

Say you: What did you buy?  

Say me: Art. And a t-shirt.  And earrings.  Because I needed them. 

Onward!  My photo for the day, straight from a girlie's booth. I wish I could link to her, but I don't know her name and can't find her.  Stupid, really, for not grabbing a card:  

And my art purchase.  My mom didn't like it.  Neither did my mother-in-law.  Good thing it's going to be hanging in my house and not theirs.  

One other thing:   My old blog.  It's not happening, so let it go.  I had a friend tell me that she missed it last night.  That she subscribes to this one, she likes the pictures, but she misses the stories about the people I see.  And I really, really appreciate that.  But the voyeurism ship has sailed.  I had a good run, but I was more than ready to come out of the closet and this is the stuff that excites me these days. I may sneak one in every-now-and-again but don't look for it to happen any time soon.  (Thanks for continuing to read, Angela.  *SMOOCH*)  -> 

Toma Sou

Yes.  These are mine. Yes. Total novelty.  Yes.  Totally frivolous purchase. Yes.  Completely useless and probably pointless.  

I dare you to make fun of me for them.  

I got completely sucked in when I read online, somewhere, at some point in my past, that Campbell's was issuing commemorative Tomato Soup cans honoring Andy Warhol, who combined art and commerce like PB & J. Which, for the record, I've never really liked.  I like the PB.  I'm just not a huge fan of the J coupled with it.  And I don't really like PB on bread all that much.  Or spread in celery. Or on a spoon a la carte.  As previously noted, I prefer PB on (low fat) Cheez-Its. Or in baking chip form nestled in these.  

But I digress. 

At this point, I have no idea what the commemoration was even about: Andy's 75 birthday? Tomato Soup's 108 year anniversary? 60 years since Andy painted the series?  They wanted to make money off suckers like me?  Who knows?  At any rate when I saw them, I went to Ebay and started shopping.  Like, immediately.  

Which is when I realized the bait-and-switch that Campbell's et al pulled on the consumer with this marketing scheme.  Because even though they advertised the soup as $12 for 4 cans, what they failed to mention until you got in the semi-fine print was that the four cans were nicely boxed but contained only two of the four color schemes.  Meaning if you wanted an actual set of the four color schemes, you had to fork over twice as much money and thus ended up with two sets of cans. 

Bastards.  

In the end, I contacted a friend and we split them.  But it still chaps me bum. 

Say you: You paid $3 a pop for a can of tomato soup?  

Say me: No. I paid $12 for pretty colors and mass produced Andy Warhol signatures that are worth nothing.  Duh. -> 

Related articles

• Campbell Introduces Limited Edition Yellow and Orange Tomato Soup Varieties (eon.businesswire.com)
• Walmart Meal Solutions: Grilled Cheese & Tomato Soup (frugalupstate.com)
• Jerry Hall and Sir Mick Jagger's 'Psychedelic' Omelette (inquisitr.com)

Do Over

This was questionably overfull when I took the shot. ->

14

So when I was at the store today, I detoured down The Evil Carb Aisle in search of one of my favorite crunchies: Cheez-Its.  I sorta Lllluurrrvvv them, but I only get one kind: the reduced fat ones.  Not for any kind of worries about my waisteline, mind.  If that were the case, I certainly wouldn't be buying Cheez-Its, right?  No, I buy the reduced fat ones because I genuinely like them.  Especially dipped in natural peanut butter.  Which certainly keeps them reduced in fat.   

When I got to the Cheez-It section, I was momentarily taken aback because I couldn't find them. Then I realized the sheer volume of Cheez-Its I with which I was confronted: literally fourteen varieties. I'm not going to even attempt to name them all.  At first I thought they had all those varieties and not the one I wanted absolutely needed.  Karma was smiling on me, though, because there was one.  On the bottom shelf.  WAY in the back.  I had to get on my hands and knees to retrieve them, which is a metaphor, not to mention visual, I refuse to explore any further.  ->