Month: November 2008
Like a trendy Yat-Kha, Kongar-ol Ondar the Tuvan Singer
Verstehen Sie?
MAKE Magazine: How to make a 1934 USB web cam.
A while ago I converted a 1934 folding camera into a USB web cam. I brought it with me to Maker Faire Austin 2008 and a lot of people seemed to like it. In fact, a lot of people wanted to know how I made one. I promised them I would do a how-to on the blog, and I always keep my promises, so let’s get started.
Yes, those are webcams. Yes, I’m seriously considering doing this to my broken antique Speedex. I think it’s the niftiest DIY I’ve seen in months. The problem that I have with a lot of oh-so-stylish DIY is that the end result isn’t generally useful. It looks neat, but it’s a dead object, art for the sake of art, like the Steampunk Space Helmet. Because these both work and look damned good they are therefore, in my estimation, about a millionty-thousand times more awesome. Yes. Now to get a webcamera. And, like, a soldering iron. And heat-shrink tubing. And a… Rosin core solder?
understated
I love that I can say either I’m borrowing a bedroll from a CSI novelist to go camping in the middle of a five-star desert dreamscape with an award winning photographer and a star-shiveringly good musician or that I’m borrowing a floppy foamy bed-thing out of Don’s garage so I can go camping in the middle of an ecological disaster with one of the most filthy minded friends I have and a wee skinny girl I don’t know as well as I should, and both statements are equally accurate and entirely true.
That said, I’m oddly terrified about my upcoming trip, and I sincerely do not know why.
facing away from the desert
Southern California is Burning Again.
Yesterday someone replied to the Craigslist ad I put up regarding our old catboxes, (the cats have taken over the bunny-igloo litter-spaceship David brought over and will never give it back), and I replied, “Sure! Come on over.” while sending David a note, “were they bleached or were we overwhelmed by other things?” The message back, “overwhelmed.” So while I’m at work, feeling guilty for having David scrub the catboxes, as it was my chore to do, I decide to rectify matters I must fetch him delicious treats and chocolate while getting groceries on the way home.
(It’s fully dark by the time I leave work. The only benefit to this: Keith and I watch the result of the four p.m. sun set from our seventh floor office window as the tips of ordinary architecture are suddenly beautiful, bathed in melted girl-music gold, while everything at street level is already a heavy blue day-crunched dark.)
Fast-forward to arriving home. I stumble in, ready to drop, heavy with bags of vegetables and canned soup, and then I stop, stunned. The apartment I left in the morning is gone, replaced by an entirely new portion of space. Everything unsorted that was haunting our living space, (minus the bathroom and the bedroom, untidy disasters both), has been shifted into neat piles in the spare room library. There are no more boxes to step over. The floors are clear, flat surfaces have resurfaced, it’s a miracle. The apartment has been organized.
Summary: There is Not Enough Chocolate In The World.
artpost: some inventions are more obvious than others
via Brass Goggles.
Steampunk Space Helmet, by Herr Döktor, entitled Vacuum Survival System
Build Progress Forum Thread
Recently recovered from the archive at Castle d’Arrogance, details of Herr Döktor’s Vacuum Survival System, or ‘Space Helmet’, have just recently come to light; this object was produced at some, as yet, undetermined time (due to the peculiar and labyrinthine method of personal dating) as a means for ‘personal safety while travelling the Ætheral Void between the Spheres, and for safe and comfortable promenading upon the Airless Planets of the Solar System’
Apparently it started as a large acrylic Victorian cloche-style garden propagator and a large polypropylene planter. Fantastic! (More pictures at Brass Goggles).
on a scale of one to ten I’m terrified
It’s confirmed. I’m going to California next week. Work gave me the alright, and Lung bought the ticket to Vegas today. (Where he and Natasha pick me up, then bring me to the Salton Sea). My flight leaves Seattle first thing Monday morning. Today after work I’m hopefully picking up a wee foam mattress from Don, getting laundry done, and packing as best I can. After that, it’s a matter of working as many hours as I can until Friday evening, when David and I are catching a ride with my mother down to Seattle for Robin’s Saturday house-party.
Rent will be tight this month, as will everything else, but the chance is too good to pass up. I swore, awhile ago, that I will never again say no to free travel, no matter what, and this is it, this is exactly the sort of thing I promised myself I would do, no matter how risky or fiscally chancy, because if the offer is solid, then the correct answer is always Yes.
artpost: for when you’re looking for europe in your left frontal lobe
A series of almost 100 vintage “brain maps” as created by one Dr. Alesha Sivartha in the late 1800s
(published in his barmy metaphysical book The Book of Life: The Spiritual and Physical Constitution of Man).
fricking frack: things I hate to miss more than
It’s that time of year again…
November 21, 22, & 23
The 2008 Crawl map.
FRIDAY November 21st 5:00pm – 10:00pm
SATURDAY November 22nd 11:00am – 6:00pm
SUNDAY November 23rd 11:00am – 6:00pm
The Eastside Culture Crawl is a free, annual 3-day arts festival that involves artists opening their doors to let the public tramp through their creative studio-spaces, (and sometimes homes), to exhibit work for sale.
“Painters, jewelers, sculptors, furniture makers, musicians, weavers, potters, writers, printmakers, photographers, glassblowers; from emerging artists to those of international fame… these are just a sampling of the exciting talents featured during this unique chance to meet local artists in their studios.
Purchase something that strikes your fancy, commission something to be uniquely yours, or just browse through the studios and meet the artists, learning about their specific works of art, materials and tools, approaches and techniques. This is a once a year opportunity to meet many diversely talented artists and view their creations in the studios where they work. Be part of this exciting event, which brings people from all over the Lower Mainland, and share in the imaginations that enrich our neighbourhood and lives.”
Last year Dillon and I went to a bit of it, and it was absolutely spectacular. Almost endlessly fascinating, as every room contained an entirely new collection of art. 1000 Parker St., especially, as it has the highest concentration of artists. (Though there seems to be more paintings of crows at 1000 Parker St. than there are actual crows in a fifteen mile radius of the building itself. Go figure.) Thankfully few studios were devoted to watercolour trees or flowers, instead it was a little like coming home, exploring every room as new, colour-spattered, welcoming universe. Last year there were over 300 artists showing. This year there’s going to be more.
It’s one of the few Vancouver events I consider unmissable, which is why it’s killing me a little that I’m not going to be in town while it’s happening. Instead I’m going to be in Seattle, and then hopefully on a plane, making my way South, towards Lung and the Salton Sea, the ecological disaster desert west outside of L.A. Take pictures, everyone. Attend, discover, and explore.
don’t know what movie yet
Karen and Par bring parenting to the best level:
P: So I’m ready to go out now, to get your Honey Bunches of Goats.
J: No! Honey Bunches of Oats! (exasperated sigh) Do I have to write it down for you?
The painting we started is finally finished, a week after it should have been. Hallelujah. It’s not all finished, of course, but the walls we started have been done and that’s all we really need for now. Our home improvements have been all one step at a time, one per pay-cheque, and now the Great Reddening has been accomplished, we can proceed with another two weeks of uninterrupted unpacking and sorting and shuffling things about.
(Until the next pay period episode of fix: a Weekend of Wallpaper! *music sting*)
Already the difference is immense. The endless bookcases have been dragged out of the hall and installed, clearing a definitive walking space, and some of the towering stacks of boxes have become rows upon rows of colourful, interesting books, engaging and pretty and, more importantly, shelved. Two of the mirrors have been put up, framing the still curtainless window where plants are now living, draped cheerfully over David’s giant, smiling terracotta Buddha, the futon is bookended by soft, paper lamps, and my old chest of drawers, the 100 year old vanity, has found a new home in the livingroom, transformed into an entertainment center, as we fill it with our DVD’s.
There are still boxes and clutter everywhere, but we’re limping along, and it’s getting better every day, though we took some breaks we took this weekend. Saturday, after a trip to IKEA with Ray, Nicole, and her new roommate Trevor, we went to the closing night of The Velvet Edge, the period gothic-horror Lovecraft play Duncan and Erin were in, and on Sunday we took two new friends from Portland out on the town for a best-of-Vancouver tour, (the Naam, Zulu Records, True Confections), before throwing our backs into it again.
Today our Portland friends are coming over around 6:30 for tea and a movie, (feel free to join us), so we’re not likely to get a lot done, but I think taking an evening to just appreciate what we’ve accomplished will be exactly the sort of treat we need. Almost all of our attention has been given over to figuring out where to put pots and pans and what cupboard should hold what that we haven’t had a lot of time to be social. It’s about time we have people over. I’d hate to imagine what would happen otherwise. Terrifying atrophy. An inability to go out in sunlight. Possibly even pointy teeth.