Robomorphism.
Yes, I made that word up.
Take a bucket full of metal and some odd bits of glass and plastic and dump it on the ground. Repeat as needed. Sooner or later you will come up with the semblance of a robot. It’s like a bunch of monkeys sitting at typewriters, sooner or later one of them will hammer out a little bit of Shakespeare.
Week 1
Week 2
Week 3
There’s something so sad and poignant about lost gloves. I followed this little mitten as it migrated across a city block during the month of April this year.
Then one day it was gone.
Maybe it took a ride through the storm drains and then floated down the river to soak in the sights of New Orleans. Or maybe someone found their missing half, gave it a good cleaning and then reunited it with it’s striped comrade. Stranger things have happened.
Check out www.onecoldhand.com to see some pretty excellent stuff other people did with lost gloves.
Contrails.
Short for condensation trails.
Most of the time when I look up and see an airplane in the sky, I don’t give it a second thought. Something about seeing contrails makes me stop and think it over though. It shifts my perception from the abstract concept of air travel to the absurd reality of seeing a couple hundred people housed in an aluminum tube rocketing 30,000 feet in the air at about 400 miles an hour.
Then I think maybe next time I’ll take the train.
I take drinking water for granted. Turn on the faucet, fill up the Britta and commence to drinking it.
Pretty simple stuff.
But then after shooting this photo, I realized I don’t have much of an idea what these things really do to contribute to that simple glass of water.
These tanks in particular hold about one million gallons of water. Thanks to gravity and their strategic location on high ground, my nice little glass of water will still be there for me even if the power goes out in the city, or consumer demand exceeds the pumping station’s supply capacity.
At least for a day or so. After that I guess I’ll hope for rain.
There’s something about urban food foraging that generates excitement way beyond any rational bounds. Finding volunteer morel mushrooms in your flower garden seems about as thrilling as uncovering a pile of gold coins might be.
At least in the moment.
And at least to a serious food nerd.
We sauteed our good fortune with shallots, butter and vermouth, then put them over roasted salmon with fresh chives.
Thousands of sticks are hand placed in soil and burlap creating a soft wall that’s organic and meant to evolve.
This structure represents a small part of the Minnehaha Creek water shed restoration below the Minnehaha falls, just prior to the waterway’s outlet into the Mississippi river. Previous creek bed control structures in this area were some 75 years old, dating to the WPA era. The 5.8 million dollar project saw restoration of the older historic walls as well as the implementation of new erosion control measures such as this one.
Carrot, red onion and beauty-heart radish.
Even with a cayenne pepper sweet and sour vinaigrette it’s still only about a $2.00 dish, or around 50 cents per portion. It’s hard to imagine something else that brings so much enjoyment for so little money.
Plus, they’re good for you too.
If someone tells you the future is in plastics, they’re saying a lot.
In fact, it looks like that plastic’s going to be in your future, and in the futures of some future generations.
And the futures of a lot of fish and birds…
1. It takes around 1000 years for a plastic bag to fully degrade.
2. About 100,000 animals are estimated to be killed every year by plastic bag refuse.
3. We consume about 100,000,000,000 (yes, one hundred billion!) plastic bags just in the United States each year.
Sometimes a bridge is just a way to get from point A to point B.
Sometimes, it’s more. I like seeing bridges used like this for instance. Not just an egocentric tag here, but a display of social and political consciousness.
Sort of a concrete blog, with about 575,000 work stations scattered across the United States.
A while back I read an article describing the music of Low, the Duluth Minnesota based slow-core band, as being defined by the silence between notes as much as by the music itself.
Like negative space for your ears.
I love negative space. In fact, here’s some now…