Friday, September 8, 2017

Found Art Friday 231: la rentree

Dear ones,
You go away for three weeks and the birds now sing a different song.  Before we get to the scraplings of a visual travelogue from Art Ranger's time out on "the range",  there was this: 
Whoah!!!  - Women's bathroom at the newly renovated SF MOMA
Which made an all out visceral emergency of the mundane errand, especially should you absent mindedly check the news.  But it sure fit as a backdrop of NOW.  Given the hurricanesque torque of incompetence as it re-smacks us in the face daily alongside the grueling groans of Nature: she is fed up and disgusted, having a sheer blow-out.  While the Tweet equivalent of a toxic vomiting disorder continues, each new news breaking and breaking at break neck speed, like there's no tomorrow.  Sure - we have a tiny rain boot and a firepants leg and big Assload of arms. We have cartoons running us over and grabbling our country's assets, bagging it up for themsleves and wearing your sweat equity like diapers under their hairdo, funneled down their slick-haired golden inflated toilet sponge.
"Uncharted territory".  Last year fire, this year flood, this year fire, this year ....
We keep hearing that we are in "uncharted territory" again and again and again.  Now there's also a "cone of uncertainty", which certainly mirrors what the DACA recipients will now have to wear on their heads every day;  so often the most inspiring and aspiring students. Ones who made you love your low wage job any way any how.


As mentioned, we were tasked with the gigantic debris storm of sorting through 48 years of the motherlode of our mother's belongings and entire life.  We now contrast that with weary souls in the current "cone of uncertainty" where nature's force may dismantle object-accumulation in one fell swoop of "eyewall replacement cycles". 
Of all the many thousands of objects, Dad's bench vise is one we actually feel attached to.
............ Breathe ..........
We actually saw this and watched it paint itself a painting with the sinking sun
Like characters in a play, this gaggle of all different old ish chairs sat at "The Pickle Barrel" restaurant in Silverton, Colorado and politely welcomed us  -  though surely gossiped about us after we'd left.

Despite unsuccessful photographs, each chair was fitted with a private wire sculpture underneath the seat to help shore up and flex with the loosened legs.  Art Ranger thrives on tiny moments such as these.

High altitude snacking
 Vignette from Minturn, Colorado
We found this to be poignant
You just keep going regardless - into a new time zone, a new century,a new technology.
We have tried for years to snap a picture of this dead serious sign, just off the I-5, heading west, near the oil fields
Our inbox is gladdened by accumulating a few of your images - hello people out there!:

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