Check out these awesome stools made by Amsterdam-based design student Jolan Van Der Wiel. Using magnets, he slowly pulls apart the magnetic material, creating fractals in the shape of a mushroom. A stool stool, essentially :) It only takes about half on hour for the materials to cure producing a strong, sturdy and incredibly unique design piece, that’s 100% functional. Check out his website for more photos and info on the production process.
Despite the fact that I’ve had less sleep and therefore experienced more hours this past week, it has FLOWN by at an incredible pace. The reason for this is as follows:
// Monday //
8-10a: Type I
10-12p: Type II
12-1p: Lunch
1-5p: Work
5-9p: Schoolwork
9p-12a: Work
1-7a: Sleep
// Tuesday //
7-8a: Breakfast/Shower/Go to school
8a-12p: Schoolwork
12-1p: Lunch
1-5p: Work
5p-2am: Schoolwork
2:30-7a Sleep
// Wednesday //
8-10a: Type I
10-12p: Type II
12-1p: Lunch
1-5p: Work
5-7p: Clean Room (Waayyy Overdue)
7p-12:30a: Schoolwork
1-7a: Sleep
// Thursday //
7-8a: Breakfast/Shower/Go to school
8a-12:30p: Schoolwork
12:30-1p: Lunch
1-5p: Work
5p-4am: Schoolwork (with a few brief breaks for food)
4-7a Sleep
// Friday //
8-10a: Type I
10-12p: Type II
12-1p: Lunch
1-5p: Work …….
Nonstop. Until now. And of course I have a full load of homework for the weekend too. I will post more fruits of my labor soon.
But for now I leave you with this charming and beautifully simple infographic about the basics of type.
E X P E R I M E N T A L * T Y P O G R A P H Y
Our latest Typography I project. First we made ink and acrylic prints of found objects. Then we scanned them in to create interesting type, the words chosen by identifying the visual feel of the marks. Click on each image for a closer look.
It’s only right on the twenty-first night of September.
Usual weeknight happenings
Oh freshly cleaned and lubed bike chain! I dedicate this song to your beautiful new sound.
I finally finished my pedal-powered phone charger this weekend, which I named, PEDALJUICE. Regretfully I only remembered to take pictures of the final project so I don’t have any of the work in progress. For more detailed information on schematics and assembly, here is my source. Thank you to Sean McLellan and Mike Fizz who contributed to the project. Pedaljuice will be immediately put to good use by Chris Mahler who is about to embark on a bike journey from Seattle down to San Diego. Good luck Chris! May Pedaljuice grant you more “talk thyme”….heh.
I’m just going to pretend it hasn’t been a month since I posted the first half of this story. Good news is it will be revised to only the most important and memorable parts as time and constantly fading memory will play the part of the editor.
We woke up at dawn, as we did nearly every morning on the trip (and it was surprisingly very enjoyable to do so) and tried to quickly cook breakfast and pack up so that we could start the hike early. Though it didn’t get underway as early as planned, we set out at about 9am. The first leg of the hike was easy: some wooden bridges, a picturesque meadow full of butterflies (above), and a clearly defined trail. Some parts of this trail were so woodsy and fantastical, it was reminiscent of the Shire from Lord of the Rings. After a couple miles we reached the fork for Gold Hill. From there it was a steady climb then a more strenuous one. We continued to cross back and forth over the mountain stream. The carefully constructed wooden bridges from early on were now just logs laid across or staggered rocks on which one had to choose her step carefully. The increasing challenge was invigorating and though judging by the tree line we were making slow progress, we were determined to press on. Further now than ever from civilization, we made sure to make our presence known to any unsuspecting forest creature by way of song, or the occasional tribal call, “oh AH AH oh AH AH!” By now each of us had acquired a suitable walking staff that we could also use in our defense if necessary.
As we climbed higher our water and cliff bar supply began to dwindle. We brought two jugs per person thinking it would be enough but after four hours everyone was on their second jug. I knew the hike down would be faster and we wouldn’t need as much water so I suggested we continue just a little further, in case we were almost there. And so we trekked further. We had estimated the Gold Hill leg to be about four miles, and felt like we had already gone that far. Finally, unsure of the remaining distance and with little water we decided to stop at a clearing on a ridge to eat lunch then head back. Although not as satisfying as the peak would have been, this location had a great view and allowed us to see how far up we had climbed. We cheers-ed our shots of Bulleit just as the sky let out a distant but powerful roll of thunder, as if to agree. Then it began to rain, a light misty mountain rain.
The hike down only took 2 and a half hours. We used our quads more than ever. The return trip was like a rewinded version of the ascent: faster and in reverse. We recognized this or that tree, rock formation, birch forest or stream crossing, going by them at double the speed. I thought my knees would take most of the beating, but by the end it was my hips who had given up on me.
We reached the trail head at about 3:30 to find llamas in the parking lot. Apparently some people ride them on the trails. We changed out of our possibly poison-ivey-covered clothes and took preventative baby-wipe baths. We parted with our trusty walking staffs and bid them a long and fulfilling life in the service of future forest hikers.
Originally we had planned to get to Lake Abiquiu by four for swimming and camping, but it was already 3:30 and we were at least two hours away. We decided to still go, if nothing else, to see some new and beautiful scenery along the way before heading back to Santa Fe. We went West out of Taos from mountains right onto the desert mesa. Normally you can see for miles across to the end of the mesa where mountains spring up on the other side, but the clouds had followed us and it was raining with low visibility. About ten miles outside of town the ground suddenly dropped 650 below us and in an instant we were crossing the Rio Grande Gorge. It was an awesome surprise and by awesome I mean, really…..AWEsome.
(source: lazlo-photo)
We continued on down the desert road to find an outcrop of interesting looking structures called Earthships. They are sustainable, biotectured dwellings that look like a cross between a hobbit house and a spaceship. Dream come true right?
The mesa is just one of many BLM lands, which is land owned by the New Mexican Bureau of Land Management. It is considered public land and anyone is allowed to use it. Many people live on the mesa in tents or trailers, post-apocalyptic style. At least one of the famed Rainbow Gatherings took place here.
Later, along side of the road we saw a wild black stallion just roaming through the desert. We were almost close enough to touch him as we slowly passed by. BEAUTIFUL. At Tres Piedras we turned South. This road took us back through a national forest. The rain became thicker and the horizon slowly turned into a gray haze. We began to have doubts about getting to the lake before dark. Almost out of gas we stopped in the tiny town of Ojo Caliente (hot eye?). Strange place. The speed limit sign said 10mph. There were only four or five buildings, most of them restaurants. We decided to eat dinner there. Upon entering we realized how badly we, as non-locals, stood out. Suddenly becoming the center of attention, we awkwardly walked to the counter to order our food, being closely scrutinized by all patrons present. The food was so-so but as hungry as we were, we didn’t really care.
Now only an hour away from Santa Fe, we decided to head back to the city for the evening since we didn’t deem it worth it to set up a tent in the dark only to take it down early the next morning. We arrived back at the adobe house where my friend Ben was staying with a gift of locally-brewed beer to show our gratitude in exchange for his hospitality. We spent the evening together, conversing and laughing at ourselves doing ridiculous yoga poses.
The next morning Ben took us to the Santa Fe farmer’s market. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Maybe I have never been to a decent farmer’s market but I was facinated and instantly jealous of Ben who has weekly access to such a diverse plethora of home-grown, home-baked and handmade goods. There were all kinds of vegetables, breads, pies, cheese and meats for sale. I wanted one of everything.
(source: have spork, will travel)
Our next stop was a flea market just outside of town on an Indian reservation. I will not show you any pictures of this because there are none. Cameras not allowed, Tesuque rules. Most of the wares for sale did not interest me as they were overly touristy and “Indian” with too high of an asking price. I did however find one interesting thing: an artist hut ornately decorated with layers upon layers of ……trash, really. Plastic figurines, tires, painted burger baskets and paper, lots of paper, lined the exterior of this hut, resembling a shrine to the god of art garbage. The style of art was to the tune of Baquiat: harsh but childlike renderings of humans and animals. The hut functioned as a gallery and studio in one. The dirt floor was covered with thousands of puzzle pieces. Inside the artist was conversing with one of the visitors. The art was good. It’s a shame I can’t remember the artist’s name.
We had arrived in Santa Fe three days earlier and still had yet to see the Plaza downtown. It was time. The Plaza is the main square of the city and included several galleries and restaurants, as well as the St. Francis Cathedral. It was not what I had expected. There are no tall buildings. Law requires nothing be taller than the capital building which is only about 5 stories. Most buildings on the were only two or three stories and of course, all adobe. I found the gallery where my grandmother sells her art right on the Plaza. I have seen her paint for years but this was the first time I had seen her work in a gallery setting. Very cool. We ate a French cafe then explored the interior of St. Francis. The Plaza area was cool to see but littered with tourists and tiresome. In the afternoon we went back to the house to unwind and read a book or take a nap. I can’t convey to you the extent of the peaceful and serene atmosphere the small adobe house provided. I enjoyed spending time there just as much as anything else we did in Santa Fe.
In the evening Ben took Kara and I out for a night of New Mexican food and drinks. We made reservations at The Shed, a Santa Fe staple for new mexican food. The entrance was in a small courtyard off the Plaza and in interior was an interconnected maze of rooms with low passageways. It had an old, authentic feel. Our table was interesting: it was in the corner by a doorway, shaped for exactly three people (2 across from 1). The awkward placement in the room made it seem like we got the shaft but we thought it humorous more than anything. The food was TASTY. I learned that there is a difference between mexican and new mexican food, however slight it may be. New mexican food is often spicier and entrees are usually topped with a fried egg. We enjoyed our meal and margaritas, feeling quite good by the time we left.
We expressed interest in getting a few more drinks and asked Ben to take us to a good bar. He responded by leading us into the most ritzy hotel in Santa Fe, the Loretto, which looks like an adobe castle. This was not at all what Kara and I expected and we looked at each other in confusion, not being able to tell if he was serious. Serious he was: he led us through the lobby and into the hotel bar which immediately made me feel underdressed. I’d never been to such swanky of a place for drinks. Unsure of ourselves, Kara and I ordered a beer and Ben graciously picked up the tab. We found a table and sat down. Still trying to figure out exactly what was going on, Kara asked Ben if he normally comes here. He confessed he’s “not much of a night person” and was unsure of where to take us, which we found comical since he was seemingly so confident and at ease in the epitome of a nighthawk atmosphere. We laughed about this for a while and listened to the house band who was playing across the room.
After drinks we decided to explore the hotel a little, so we went to the fifth (top) floor. We walked outside to find ourselves on the utmost patio (top center of picture) which provided great views of the city and Plaza. Remember that in Santa Fe, five stories means one of the tallest buildings.
We eventually returned home and decided, of all things, to play cards. We were unsuccessful at starting a real game, instead we played arbitrary games, making up the rules as we went along. Surprisingly this was very entertaining and went on a lot longer than one might have imagined possible. Somehow this developed into drawing pictures and mathematical diagrams that proved the err of scheduling such an early departure time in the morning. We were convinced.
So instead of leaving at 4am, we left around 7 which still got us back at the reasonable hour of 6pm. That morning in the backseat as we left Santa Fe, I was exhausted from getting little sleep but I would not close my eyes until we were out of the empyrean mountainous desert. I had to soak up every last little bit of it as I knew it would soon be replaced by the flat, monotonous landscape of the panhandle. Upon arriving in Denton I was glad to be home and thankful for my experience. The desert, the mountains, the West will always speak to me in ways I can’t explain. I hope I’ll have a chance to recharge my batteries again soon.
(first photo compliments of Kara Kelley)
Just got back from New Mexico on Sunday. Lord knows know I love Texas, but DAYUM, natural beauty is rampant there. Northern new Mexico is especially pulchritudinous because it contains wide-open desert mesas as well as the lushly forested mountains. You can go from one biome to another in just a few miles. We experienced both extensively.
We left Denton at about 7am after a ‘healthy’ breakfast at Waffle House. Passing through Witchita Falls and about 8 other towns evenly dispersed along highway 287, we finally came to Amarillo. Originally we had only planned to stop here for lunch but earlier in the trip Molly had downloaded an iphone app that pointed out weird and wonderful roadside monuments, quirky things to see and do. Therefore our first stop ended up being an anatomically incorrect, giant pair of legs isolated in a cow pasture about 15 miles south of town. Though we wasted a horrendous amount of time looking for and taking photographs with the legs, we were secretly amused by the ridiculousity of the whole ordeal and considered it time well spent. Directly afterwards we went to the Big Texan, a Texas themed steakhouse which exaggerated every stereotype that could be associated with the lone star state. It had served my childhood memories well but will not equally serve my adult ones. That is to say, children don’t recognize gimmicks and tourist traps. The stop would have been somewhat worthwhile had the food been good, but I can’t exactly say that.
The landscape changes so subtly going west. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when you come into the plains, or the desert, but ever so often there are hints. In the midst of the flat plains you may see one small hill out in the distance, covered in sagebrush, foretelling of what’s to come. You can drive four hours from Dallas to Houston, seeing the same old thing, same trees, same grass, same flat land with a few hills here and there. But a four hour drive from Amarillo to Santa Fe is like night and day. By the time you reach the state line, you’re already in the desert and just another couple of hours puts you at the base of the mountains. I can’t imagine how amazing it would be to live in the midst of this awe-inspiring beauty, yet it is because I don’t live in it that I am so awe-inspired. I never want to lose that, the feeling that makes me want to immediately pull the car over and walk straight up into the mountains, the feeling that makes me able to stare out over the desert for hours upon end.
We pulled into town just after six as I had estimated, and met my friend Ben at Trader Joe’s. This was our first impression of Santa Fe: a magical wonderland of healthy food and happy people. This was my first ever Trader Joe’s experience and I immediately felt gypped by living in a state where no such magical places exist. EVERYTHING there is good, and yet it is still so cheap! Local beer=delicious. I bought the Santa Fe Brewing Co.’s ‘State Pen Porter’ for only 6.99. The price of lonestar?!?
Expecting to make our own dinner, we were pleasantly surprised to find out that Ben had decided to cook for us at the humble abode at which he was currently staying. This house’s style, although similar to all other adobe style houses in the city, was completely new to us, and we basked in its quaint and rustic southwesterness. As Ben finished cooking dinner, we prepared the table with some plates which looked to be childcrafted gifts for mother’s day. At least two of them could have been Piet Mondrian’s 2nd grade art project.
Dinner was Indian and delicious (thanks Ben!, thanks Trader Joe’s!) and afterwards we cleared the table and spread out the map of New Mexico to plan our next couple day’s worth of adventures. After some pointing, circling and discussing, the plan was set. Due to extensive forest fires in the area, we would have to go further north near Taos to find camping and open trails. First we would stop in Chimayo: a small, very old Spanish settlement where there was a 200 year old church known for its supply of holy dirt. Then we would head up to Carson National Forest, near Taos, to camp and hike. The next day we would head west across the mesa to lake Abiquiu for some relaxation and more camping. Saturday morning we would head back to Santa Fe and spend the day exploring the city.
I naturally awoke early the next morning which is easy to do when sunlight fills the room before 7am. Refreshed and ready to go, we left the house to go eat breakfast at the Tune-up Cafe, which Ben informed us he does every Thursday morning. It was a good way to start the day: with a fresh fruit parfait and a cup of coffee. The drive there was almost entirely through neighborhoods, with narrow streets and adobe everywhere. It took us a bit of pondering to find our way back after Ben went to work. One last stop at Trader Joe’s to stock up and we headed North out of town.
Our drive from Santa Fe took us through otherwise forgotten rural towns, no…villages (you couldn’t really even call them towns). They were designed just like rural Spanish villages, in that the highway became the town’s only road. It would narrow, becoming almost an alleyway, twist and turn, rise and fall, and go past every single residence until it emerged on the other side. Before long we arrived in Chimayo. The grounds of the church included the building and a surround courtyard which sat on the side of a mountain stream. The church itself had a very Spanish/colonial/new world/mission type feel: small and quaint, but fortified. Made of adobe and wood, it was not like anything I experienced in the Spanish cities of Europe. We entered quietly, unable to speak or take pictures. Kara, Molly and I each took our own pew on which to meditate the surroundings. It creaked as I sat on it. Providing the only light source were a few windows, barred and located high up on the walls near the ceiling. However, the inside did not seem dim, perhaps because of the generous use of color -reds greens and yellows- that decorated the interior. After a few moments we made our way to the adjoining foyer through which we had to pass to enter the room with the Holy Dirt. The most notable characteristic of this room was that its walls were lined with crutches. I wasn’t sure of the reason for this but I assumed it was a stockpile of donations they would lend from if a person was in need. We waited our turn to enter the room with the holy dirt, having to duck our heads down to go through the low doorway. Inside, only about three could fit comfortably. In the center of this small room was a hole in the floor, about one foot in diameter. The hole was filled with dirt (sand) and a few plastic sandbox shovels which kind of cheapened the experience. I should have transplanted the dirt with own my hands. Rather, I shoveled some into an empty cigarette case for safekeeping.
Before leaving we ate our ready-made lunches from Trader Joe’s in the parking lot next to the stream, once again reminding us of the greatness that is Trader Joe’s. We continued our journey on “the high road to Taos” which is what all the roadsigns called it. This route took us through more small towns, slowly transitioning from desert to mountain scenery. When we arrived in Truchas we were at the foot of the mountains but up above the desert mesa on a grassy highland plain. We failed to make a correct turn and found ourselves wandering up a mountain lane. T’was a pleasant mistake, it was some of my favorite scenery the whole trip. We met up with some French folks who had made the same navigational error and we followed them back to town.
Our original plan was to drive the entire loop around the mountains of Taos to find the best camping spot. Since we were running out of daylight and still wanted to get a good hike in we decided to just take a stab at the campsites along the inner loop road. This was also the road the led to the Taos ski resort. Nothing quite caught our eye so we made the decision to travel a bit further to the northside of the loop. There were several campgrounds but Junebug seemed to be the most undisturbed. We found a secluded spot where we could see no other campers but were still close enough to the stream that we could hear it at night in the tent. There seemed to be streams everywhere: in all the campsites we saw, and all along the trail we hiked. Fresh mountain stream water was abundant! First we pitched the tent then went to find some trails. We stumbled upon the monster that we would embark on the following day: Gold Hill Trail, only an 18 mile trek. The evening hike was just an introduction and we headed back after about 45 minutes. Upon return to the site we started working on dinner. The level 4 burn ban didn’t allow campfires which was a bummer, but I was excited because I got to use my new camp stove I bought just for the trip. Its called the “pocket rocket”, aptly named because it actually could fit in your pocket. The fuel tank provided the base and I set it up to began cooking dinner. Veggie dogs were on the menu. We first sauteed some vegetables as toppings and then threw the wieners in the pan. Cooking outdoors is so much more fun. The cloudy night sky did not allow for much stargazing so we retired to the tent after dark to prepare our bodies for early rising and the intense hike that lay ahead of us.
