All I can say is WOW — I am absolutely STUNNED by the beauty in this article from Etsy on Eric Boyer and his wire mesh scultpures, both in the photographs of his work and in the lyrical, witty and approachable way he writes.
Beyond perusing the wonderful photographs of his work, the biggest takeaway from this article for me was inspiration:
“I grew up with an art teacher dad who lavished us kids with cheap materials and liked to ask tough questions: […] ‘Let’s try to comprehend infinity.’ […]One of the most valuable things I have learned is to give myself permission to experiment. Whenever I visit another artist’s studio, a museum, or a gallery — any place where people are creating new things — it’s a reminder not to get in the rut of assuming I know how to do things. That petrifies the creative mind. Try something you know you can’t do just to find out why. Limitations can be myths for us to shatter. My favorite all-time mantra: suspension of disbelief. You don’t have to have belief, but you do have to stop roadblocking yourself with doubt and knowledgeable pessimism.”
Etsy never ceases to amaze me. The links they share on their Facebook feed continue to educate, inspire, and amuse me.
Today’s link concerns “eyebombing.” What is eyebombing? Well, put simply (and much less eloquently than the linked article), it’s putting googly eyes on street objects. Teeny, tiny drops of vandalism to provoke smiles and anthropomorphize (now there’s your $10 college word-of-the-day) the streets.
You know, I think I would feel better about walking through urban streets if they were looking at me with googly eyes.
I love watching new incarnations of performance / street art, like yarn bombing and planking. I wonder how these trends develop: who first thinks of the fad? Who then deems it is a fad? Who then decides it’s Wikipedia worthy?
If all we are is what we leave behind, what do these types of art say about our culture? Our history? Our destiny?
Bravo to Neilsen/Dam for bringing me to such a pensieve point on what otherwise would be a staring-at-the-clouds-out-the-window Friday where “I-just-need-it-to-be-the-weekend” normally runs rampant through my brain.