ANOTHER THING I MISSED OVER THE WEEKEND
Bunny Rampage 2009
[via The Nurse/Tugboat Captain, natch]
Okay, peeps: I’m working on a project, and I need some help.
In a nutshell, I have to explain to a room full of non-arts people why arts grants are important, and why art isn’t just some highfalutin’ elitist nonsense. To make this happen, I’m looking for a few examples of “art moments” in America–paintings, novels, poems, films, dances, plays–that have led to larger change.
Off the top of my head, I thought of Shepherd Fairey and his iconic “Hope” poster that helped galvanize the Obama campaign. (Which is notable whether or not you supported Obama.) I also thought of Raisin in the Sun and The Laramie Project, both of which helped spread awareness of social injustice and framed discussions of civil rights.
Moments don’t necessarily need to be that big–in fact, a couple of smaller ones would be nice. I’m simply looking for art events that have had an effect outside the art world.
Anyway, if you have any suggestions, please pass them on. I’d greatly appreciate it….
In lieu of hunting for Easter eggs, perhaps you could search for huevos:
The importance of explaining your intentions clearly and concisely to naked people cannot be overstated.
[via Newlin]
Also in non-vacay news: this wonked Google Map that shows Zappos’ sales in real time is fully bananas. [via TK]
On a non-vacation-themed note: did you people know that Revlon still makes Eterna 27? I thought it was just some mythical nonsense that queens of a certain age made up (like this guy I used to work with at Maison Blanche who swore by the stuff). But apparently, it’s as real as turducken, the Snuggie, and the Judas Iscariot Dildo [nsfw, obvs].
Well, I hope your Good Friday is as productive as mine.
Venice, the Frari
From my first batch of vacation pics. (More to follow, unfortunately.) Also: my first-ever stitched-together panorama pic. Does my lack of experience show much?
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Par for the course: Jonno’s leading, I’m following
I’m back. We’re back. But only barely. As usual, the trip home turned into a 24-hour slog through security checkpoints, customs lines, and baggage claim areas. Though we were both exhausted by the time we reached the house, I only slept about four hours last night. Maybe I should take a couple of dolls this evening, just to ensure I wake up in this time zone.
Also: you may have heard that there was an earthquake in Italy. It hit yesterday morning, about four hours before we were set to head to the airport. I slept through it, though Jonno and I were awakened by car and building alarms that were probably set off by the tremors. His mom and aunt heard some unusual rumblings around that time, too, but I suppose they could’ve just been garbage trucks. All I know for sure is that we were very, very lucky.
Given my previous post, it’s probably obvious that I’m happy to be home. Even though I didn’t sleep long, I was happy to be in my own bed, with some dogs beside me. I have a lot of thoughts about the trip–about travel in general and about traveling with in-laws in particular–but I’ll save those for a day or two.
It’s impossibly beautiful in Rome right now. The sky is blue, the birds are singing, the light reflected from the facades of buildings–buildings older than most anything standing in North America–has filled our apartment with a glow that I don’t think I’ve seen before, though maybe I remember seeing it as a kid. Which means I’ve never actually seen anything quite like it except in memories that may or may not be grounded in anything real.
It figures: just as I start to slow down and enjoy the trip, it’s time to come home.
Charming but schmaltzy in Venice (the room, not just me)
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