Basilisk, Carrying On.

Getting back to work on the basilisk. The white is just gesso. In today’s art assistant tales: Vala takes a break from trying to burrow down the back of my jeans, to get a drink of paint water, then she dunks her whole effing head in the water, then shakes all over. Sorry, I didn’t get pics ’cause the card wasn’t in the camera. Clickety for full size.

© C. Ford, all rights reserved.

A Bare Beginning.

I have had an absolutely splendid day, it’s always amazing when the overwhelming weight of pain is lifted for a bit. That said, the sore and tender is seriously setting in from all the injections, so time to rest. These aren’t going to be near as quick as the horses. And, no, the colour is not as toneless as it looks, flash photography.

© C. Ford, all rights reserved.

‘Twill Be Birds.

Yesterday was Pain Clinic, and I took a moment to moan to my pain management person, who is always a delight to see, about feeling ambivalent over the flip side of the cutting board. I could do more horses, that’s what Rick likes best, but I haven’t been able to settle. So, yesterday, in my moaning, I said “what do you think about birds?” She liked the idea of birds, and so did I. Then it occurred that gives me the chance to go Medieval. I have a great and abiding love for Medieval Bestiaries, and there are some great ones, oh, they are all fabulous. This allows me to take liberties with colour, too. I’ve chosen about 18, whether or not they’ll all make it, I don’t know, but for sure, at least one version of a Simurgh will go up. Now I’m properly excited again.

Roadside America.

John Margolies, “Hoot Owl Cafe, horizontal view, 8711 Long Beach Boulevard, Southgate” (1977), taken in Los Angeles.

John Margolies, “Duwamish Drive-in Theater, E. Marginal Way” (1980), taken in Seattle.

It’s impossible to not dream of setting off on a long road adventure while perusing the archives of the late John Margolies. Known for his photographs of America’s vernacular architecture, Margolies spent over three decades driving more than 100,000 miles with his eyes alert for strange sculptures, dynamic signs, and structures fast-disappearing from today’s landscape, from mom-and-pop shops to drive-in movie theaters. His journey culminated in the photo book, John Margolies: Roadside America, published in 2010, which presents a sweeping portrait of the nation through its roadside embellishments. While Robert Frank showed us the often aching realities of the United States in the 20th century, Margolies gifted us with all its weird and its wonderful.

And quite literally, too: in a generous gesture, he placed all his work in the public domain. Now, a little over a year after his death at the age of 76, the Library of Congress has digitized and uploaded the more than 11,000 color slides from his archives so they are more easily accessible. The effort is part of what curator Micah Messenheimer described to Hyperallergic as the Library’s “longstanding commitment to digitizing materials that exemplify American lives and experiences.”

You can read and see much more at Hyperallergic.