Sunday, April 14, 2024
Recline in Peace . . .
Thursday, August 24, 2023
Fresh-Cull Vermilion
"It is not enough to cover the rock with leaves.
We must be cured of it by a cure of the ground
Or a cure of ourselves, that is equal to a cure
Of the ground, a cure beyond forgetfulness.
And yet the leaves, if they broke into bud,
If they broke into bloom, if they bore fruit,
And if we ate the incipient colorings
Of their fresh culls might be a cure of the ground."
— "The Rock," a poem by Wallace Stevens from
a section with the same title in the Collected Poems .
The red of the watermelon eaten on the cover of the
August 28, 2023, New Yorker is RGB (240, 57, 53) —
Cinnabar Red, also known as Vermilion.
For related poetic remarks, see a post of Leap Day 2004 .
Color Space
Arriving in today's mail: The New Yorker.
Online context for the cover art —
Sunday, August 20, 2023
In Memory of an LA Artist — “A Vertical Band of Color”
From an LA Times obituary for an artist
who reportedly died on July 30 —
"In his abstract paintings, he often returned to
the image of the atomic bomb, through
a recurring motif of an orb hovering
in a vertical band of color."
— BY ANA IWATAKI AUG. 18, 2023 10:08 AM PT
Friday, August 18, 2023
Double Feature — The Front Page/His Girl Friday
Photography for Bicoastal Lovers
Earlier, above some other bodies of water . . .
The Tempest
A tropical storm over Florida (lower left) as described by William Shakespeare in 1611.
“Wind over Water” in the I Ching, Dissolving: Our revels now are ended. These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are melted into air, into thin air: and, like the baseless fabric of this vision, the cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve and, like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep. (Prospero, IV.i) |
Wednesday, August 16, 2023
For Mellevold and Brody*
"An artist's only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection,
and on his own terms, not anyone else's." — Franny and Zooey
Sunday, July 23, 2023
Fresh Culls
"It is not enough to cover the rock with leaves.
We must be cured of it by a cure of the ground
Or a cure of ourselves, that is equal to a cure
Of the ground, a cure beyond forgetfulness.
And yet the leaves, if they broke into bud,
If they broke into bloom, if they bore fruit,
And if we ate the incipient colorings
Of their fresh culls might be a cure of the ground."
— "The Rock," a poem by Wallace Stevens from
a section with the same title in the Collected Poems .
Thursday, March 30, 2023
Data and Metadata: High Road, Low Road
Data —
Metadata —
Wednesday, March 29, 2023
Palette (Continued from March 21)
Matisse's Model
(The French Collection, Part I: #5)
Faith Ringgold 1991