Longhouse at the Hringariki Museum in Ringerike, Norway.
Piping Brook Park that never was
This wood on the wall is maybe what I’ll use for the wainscoting of my tiny house.
I came upon twin fawns in the display case of a mom and pop toy and science store in Kansas City, Missouri. It took me two years to win the trust of the shop owner and save the money to buy them. A taxidermist spotted a dead deer by the side of the road. He stopped to properly dispose of the body and realized she was pregnant. He opened her and found near full-term twin fawns, he removed and preserved them.
Deer rarely have twins and the taxidermist retained the uterine gesture of their bodies. I built them a vitrine with a light blue base. Their prematurity exaggerates the delicacy of an incredibly sweet thing. The points of their hooves, the length of their lashes, the spots of their hides, nose to small nose in an ur-cartoonish realism … Viewers’ eyes trick them into believing the fawns are breathing. The tragedy of beauty is its transience.
The twins live forever in their own demise. They are sleeping beauties.They have been muses since I first saw them … We dress death in lilies and bronze the names of our dead sons on walls. We erect altars of toys and hold candlelight vigils to express hope. My twin fawns sleep endlessly on their baby blue block in my studio. The twins never opened their eyes yet their wondrous fatality evokes an acceptable alternative to death.
— Peregrine Honig
Bailey Island, Maine
November 26, 2011
Film
I got the “Spot” cake
No words.
The Bortle Dark-Sky Scale
Tiny house that Herbert Hoover grew up in
This man, called “Ishi”, was reportedly the last surviving member of his northern California tribe, the Yahi. His incredible story is told, and I hear, somewhat fictionalized, in Ishi: Last of His Tribe by Theodora Kroeber.
