Friday, March 22, 2013

Found Art Friday 117

Hello you on the sphere,
 Today's found art begins with the inbox:
Contribution from Esquire Anonymous on a trip to Boston
Just when you've stopped reporting about all the squashed abandoned gloves, they again find themselves universally orphaned: : find out about Mags Harries, the artist who celebrated this phenomenon in a public art way.

The rest of today's selections will now be hijacked by the Cephalopods that the Art Ranger is researching for a project wherein we decide how to interpret a squid in metal.  Before we can do any of that, we must obsess on these creatures for a stretch:
Another one from Jim Lindenthal, who captured the mysterious giant squid invasion in Pacific Grove
Brooding Squid - yes that's her opulent egg sac
Baby squid
This is the internet okay - Pig squid?  I dunno, science or invention? It lived on her desktop all week and now you are seeing it.
Finally the desire to touch overcomes, and she goes to the fish market where she inadvertently buys too many squid for just $1.50 a pound. Some of them drip ink in the squiggly bag. When you clean them, something like a clear plastic pen comes out.  With all those tentacles "modified from the primitive molluscan foot" navigating the world, and those rows of detailed suction cups moving fluidly through the medium, we are charmed and grossed out by these creatures. 
From someone's squid stomach dissection, noting the razor sharp teeth on the inside of each little suction cup
Puts it all in perspective, doesn't it. Send something digested? or not to:

Friday, March 15, 2013

Found Art Friday 116

Dear blog flock,
Do you too you sense the presence of ectoplasm here?
Did you follow the smoke signal?  We were a little fascinated by the rituals around the conclave  choosing the big man with the big hats and the all those continents to walk. Evidently, new Francis is not big into the the papal pomp and vestments, he rides the bus to the hotel. We'll see if he can resist the shoes:
 Red said to symbolize the blood of Catholic martyrs over the centuries who have died following the footsteps of Christ.  But let's face it, the tint hints more toward fashion.  And who wouldn't like to sport some hand made red Italian shoes?
Compare Old Constantine of Helena's shoe color of holiness
This week, Art Ranger learned some life lessons from Mario, the gas station owner at the end of our road.  Mario's gas is at least a dollar and a half more per gal than anybody elses gas, but you get your windshields cleaned by Mario who wears an apron and chomps on an unlit cigar while he works. We were having an almost-out-of-gas type of week, so we stop at Mario's because we aren't sure we can make it to another station and we are, of course, short on time.  This is exactly when Mario shows his most industrious and perfectly personable self as he cleans the blue Prius in front of me, front, back, sides, mirrors, front some more .... The glass gets impeccably and pridefully cleaned, including pointer finger granmotherlike attention to say a squashed bug or bird doo speck.  Then, he carries the credit card inside to process with a small clipboard and a Bic pen dangling on a string. Old-time Raybans, cigar, smile, apron. We can't just leave in a huff, because it's Mario and he knows us and we were his son-in-law's teacher once.  Finally it is our turn.  We're cheap and we ask for $20 worth. By now, we've been doing yogic breathing, trying to fill our entire diaphragm with enough oxygen to muster the patience.  Mario, she says "why do I always come to your fine gas station when I am in a hurry and I can't really enjoy having my windshields cleaned?"  "This is life - you in a hurry,  you no gas, this go together."  Even more so, he carries on admirably. Spray spray spray spray spray. We try to relax into the perfectly mesmerizing and rhythmic windshield wiping ritual, letting go of our temporal stress defect.  A series of deliberate liquid strokes, spare like brush painting upon crackly sunshine. The way the drips are caught, the even pressure of the squeegee swipes, the uniform 1/2 inch overlap of rows.  Pheww!  We are finally ready to roll again, after exchanging beautiful day type pleasantries.  Driving away, we realize that Mario is the only person in months who has actually asked about her art.  Along with your windshield, you can get your clarity, your purpose in life back, heck, you are really ready to go somewhere ....
Captivating book title from rack at Kinkos
To top it all off, Homeland Inspiration mailbox was graced by some images from one of our  correspondants from the home front that we haven't heard from lately:  Maggie Stewart, a.k.a. Aunt Madge:
"A well winterized piece.  Maybe my plants will grow like they're on steroids!"
Giant Lily Pad (nearly steroidal in sturdiness) from Denver Botanical Gardens.
Extraordinary design and texture.  A lovely serving platter, or ...

Row row row your boat
gently down the stream
             ......................   .....................   ...................

 and along the way please send some art like moments to

Friday, March 8, 2013

Found art Friday 115

Dear ones,
Today our (found art) (meditation on contemporary life) starts with a headline in today's paper: 
Intern on phone just before fatal lion attack

 "the 550 pound lion broke the girl's neck with an apparent swipe of the paw"

Art Ranger feels that the lioness has intuited our cultural obsession with being occupied by a strange absorptive rectangle that distracts us from who we are actually with in the present moment.  Lioness just wanted her actual love and her actual food and accidently over-expressed her 550 lb self.

Examples of what alarms this lioness:
thumb disease - we're going to invest now in thumb replacement technologies
or Doodle ( i can't believe this) Jump
?? why do boys find this relaxing??

Speaking of Lions, this brings us to a favorite book from childhood, the story of Dandilion by Don Freeman.  This lion goes to the hairdresser to try to pretty up his mane and get all fashionable for a party. Turns out that the hostess (a giraffe) didn't even recognize him and slammed the door in his face.  Luckily, a terrible storm came to rain ruin upon his hairdoo, everyone came to their senses and original selves and lived, you know, happily ever after .....
Well, this is getting to be a "totally random" blog, so we'll quickly sign off with this:

So let's not over think it.  Please feed our mailbox with your images and observations here:

Friday, March 1, 2013

Found art Friday 114

 Dear sphere of folks and spots of blog,
This week, two "absolutely in love with the miracle of it"s came into our box from long time friend:
Extra terrestrial mother and children
"this image was formed by the blood from a beef purchase that dried in the sink just so"
And that is what this is all about inclination to share the absolutely in love with the miracles of it moments:
via images
These from Richard Piscuscas, one of our most reliable art givers who feels the cone
"wield its world in my palm".

"showing the disparity of beauty that can sometimes be"

And now more images from other beings who walk through different scapes in different shoes, such as Tyler Blik: in San Diego:
"In the collective chaos of our multiple electronic worlds and those devices now attached to our hips, I still love all the subtleties that my daily urban walks present... Nature's remnants in front of the Chinese Historical Museum's sidewalk".
and just when we thought it was over, our admiration for the Squashed abandoned glove  .....
 still fresh, not yet forlorn, from the flight
Peace to yous
and feel free to participate in here by sending images to