The lion may sleep tonight, but aren’t they cute at day?
I have no idea when I became a person who goes to amusement/theme parks. Probably an unexpected side effect of becoming a parent and family cultures. We were not a family that went to theme parks. In fact, the only one I ever visited was the original Legoland in Denmark when I was six years old on a holiday with my parents. Mr’s family usually didn’t have money for a holiday, so their holidays were occasional day trips that included amusement parks*, so when the two merged and the kids learned about the concept of theme parks, we became people who go there.
Since the Easter holidays were badly timed, we decided against a week in nearby France and instead booked a two days trip to the Legoland in Bavaria. The very redeeming feature there is the wonderful Lego creations, which I’ll share with you, together with the anecdotes of the Giliell family at a theme park.
Our first attraction was the Safari, where you sit in little cars that roll on trails through the savannah.
*We do come from families that are remarkably similar and different at the same time.
Whilst being sick, I came across this very peculiar video:
The creations look eerily organic and uncanny alive and I have found the creators site very interesting, or, as Caine would name it “a time sink”. It is a fascinating blend of art and engineering. I think that in a virtual PC simulation it could be combined with real evolutionary algorithms these beasts could really “evolve” into even more bizzare shapes.
It also reminded me of Caine, I think she would love it.
Avalus has a new project on the go and he’s sharing with us.
I am putting together a new aquarium (I love caring for/looking at fish*) and while it develops, it is habitat to a whole load of daphnia and a few small ramshorn snails (German: Posthornschnecke, lit. postal horn snail with ‘horn’ as in fanfare, the musical instrument) to monitor water conditions.
I used this to experiment with photographing small things with my phone via a cheap plastic jewelers magnifying glass. Opportunity arose, when this small snail went by the front pane.
(*and plants and snails and shrimps and algae** …)
(** This year I’ll find you, Volvox!)
Someone sent me this and it's hilarious. pic.twitter.com/rxmnVZj02z
— रफय | رافع (@alt_ali9) January 26, 2019
Or, how to bring classic paintings to life. Or to stillness. Or something. Anyway, for a bit of fun:
It all started in 2006, when the Malatheatre company’s founder Ludovica Rambelli — passed away in April 2017 — gave a lecture at the University of Naples, on Caravaggio’s way of working. That’s when Ludovica realised that the best way to explain it was through a theatrical performance. “He used actors to build the scenes he painted, in fact we did not reproduce his work, but recreated what happened in his studio,” said current company director, Dora De Maio, referring to what for a few years has become a real play entitled La conversione di un cavallo. 23 Tableaux Vivants dalle opere di Caravaggio, or simply, Tableaux Vivants.
Inspired, among others, by Pier Paolo Pasolini’s short film La Ricotta, the intention of this show is to achieve “a great visual impact” with a minimalist scenography, baroque melodies — by composers such as Mozart, Bach and Vivaldi — and a focus located on one side, which emulates the suggestive light effect of the Italian master’s paintings.
Watch them at work here, too:
I think it would be fun to try at home (or with a dedicated group of amateurs), but I also think it would be incredibly difficult to pull off their wonderful level of ‘casual movements of (un)dress PERFECT POSE’. Excellent co-ordination and execution. And such perfect expressions.
Now, nobody beats the original, but k.d. lang does a pretty fine job, if you ask me.
Dear voyager sent me a parcel full of wonders and I’m going to share at least the images with you.
Not pictured: a little matrioshka keyring that went directly to my keys…
Thanks you so much, voyager. Receiving your lovely gift was better than Christmas.
Last weekend (or was it two weekends ago already?) the family and I had the opportunity to catch one of the last shining golden days of autumn, and we went out to the local nature reserve / park / artificial lake / walking trail. Thingy. It was well worth the effort, and along the way, I saw many fun guys having a great time in the damp moss beneath the pines. First, let me set the mood:
And then the party started…
And a final lot of fun guys:
Saule Brauca Debesīs (see title for translation) is a neat little Latvian animation film coming out soon (November 15). It’s part of the ‘100 Films for 100 Years’ cycle going on this year, what with the centenary and all. I think it quite lovelily demonstrates the oddity that is Latvian animation and art – it’s got its own style that is distinctively, traditionally Latvian, and the story is taken from folklore: folk songs and folk story motifs are a heavy influence. I think it’s adorable. Here’s the trailer:
I don’t think you need too much of the language to get an idea of the plot.
This resin stuff is great for messing around. What follows are a few things that went well, some that didn’t go that wll and some that are still work in progress.
First of all, the globes
On the left you have a light globe with a small string of embedded fairy lights. Although the blue resin all rose to the top, I quite like it. This one’s so big that it released a lot of heat while curing. On the right there is the next attempt at a snowglobe. I like the results a lot. Glueing the ornaments to the wood and then inserting them was a good idea. I still hate the moulds. They are way too thin and easily separate. More on that later.
That was the rest of the resin Marcus sent, btw.
Remember this?
It is now about four weeks later, and five shades darker:
Also I have a small confession to make: since I received my Acceptance Ring from Lofty via Caine, I haven’t removed it for any significant amount of time. Lately, though, it was getting loose on my thumb, to the point where it would slip off (into my purse, a pocket, the floor of the car), but I have always been able to find it again. Soon after taking this photo, however, it slipped from my thumb and fell onto the tracks. I can see it, every time I wait for the train, and I’m trying to get up the guts to retrieve it (believe me, train traffic is not nearly so busy for this to be a truly life-endangering activity) – my thumb feels naked, and I’ve lost a fidget toy.
On the other hand, there’s a strange appeal to knowing the ring is just down there, a little piece of the world of Affinity, a little part of my everyday morning. So I think that, eventually, I will go after it – when the evenings get dark enough for people not to see me rooting around underneath the platform. In the meantime, a small gift from friends has melded with something larger.
I was the foreigner here, as this is a lovely, satisfied, well-fed Macedonian spider enjoying the autumn sunlight. And a small side of fresh flies. Below the fold.