Broad Thinking

Posted on February 25, 2009 by meghan

Pack Rat thinks that love is a dangerous angel

I talk a big game of living the thrifty life, but even I need a reminder every once in a while. The universe gave that handy reminder to me this weekend. Let me elaborate.

Even though we’ve been living in NYC for about six months or so now, the apartment is still not completely together. I mean, we’re getting there. We finally purchased our couch (the first time we’ve bought one new and not from the Salvation Army. It was $800, which was kind of a kick to the solar plexus, but we just fell in love with it’s modern lines and the fact that it could sleep two people without those heavy fold-away sofa beds that we’ve been lugging around for years) and because it was kind of a splurge for us, I’ve been trying oh so hard to be frugal and creative when it comes to accessorizing.

This is where my tale begins. My bathroom has all granite walls and floors, and with all of that stone I want to turn it into a zen sanctuary, with lots of bamboo embellishments. But I also still want it to have a hint of modern to go with the rest of the apartment. I was thinking little touches of stainless steel here and there would make the the room industrial meditative chic. Which is the long route to saying that I was looking for some vanity jars to hold our Q-tips.

As I am hopelessly devoted to Target, I felt sure they would have an affordable answer to my search. I bee-lined to the bath section, and found what I was looking for. A little assortment of jars, in various sizes. Similar to the ones shown below . Consider it a job done, right? Well, I turned those suckers over to check out their price tag and couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw a big fat $13.99 on just the smallest jar. $13.99? Target, have you done gone and lost your dang mind? I said “good day sir,” and left the store tout suite.

photo copyright by Target.com

I couldn’t believe that Target had let me down. But I still had hope. I turned my sights to the equally beloved IKEA and, while an immediate beeline is never really possible in IKEA, I quickly meandered my way to their bed and bath section, only to find similar jars for $5.99. What the heck was going on? I mean, why charge so much for something that is in essence a glorified jelly jar? (Which, BTDubs, I strongly considered using before I decided that A. I probably wouldn’t be able to sterlize it properly for my Q-tips and B. that it might be impossible to make those faux gingham lids look industrial meditation chic)

Both of my go-to retailers had let me down. I knew that there were other bargain stores out there with other jars, but I had a feeling that none would be as stylish. I sadly wandered through the maze of the IKEA market place, that forlorn Charlie Brown music playing in my head: do do dooooo do do.

But then, providence struck. I was in the kitchen area, fiddling with some flatware when I notice them. Glass jars with modern lids for only $1.99! IKEA was trying to sell them to me as “cracker jars” but I know an industrial meditation chic bathroom accessory when I see it, thank you very much. I snapped up two, putting the other to work as a cotton ball container. And so the moral of the story is that you should never give up hope and never settle for something that doesn’t meet all of your goals. If you just keep you eyes and your mind open and think creatively, a frugal solution with almost always present itself.

Happy hunting!

Success!

Coraline

Posted on February 24, 2009 by meghan

Pack Rat is like a good tumble down the rabbit hole, if you know what I mean, wink wink

photo copyright LAIKA Inc./Focus Features

When times get tough, for better or worse the first things to go are what we deem “luxuries” and extravagances, also known as just about anything entertaining. Which can have a silver lining as it often forces us to dust off our imaginations and make our own fun. But some days you don’t feel like playing kick the can anymore any you just have to get out. The challenge then becomes getting the most fun for the least amount of money. Therefore it may seem utterly insane that I’m recommending a $14 movie. But I figure that you might spend just as much or more at the bar, club, restaurant, or whatever after dark shenanigans you may get into. And the movie Coraline, unlike yet another sushi dinner, will be a totally fresh experience.

Cartoon nerds and Neil Gaiman dorks probably won’t need to be convinced of this movie’s merits (I know I didn’t need to be), but for the rest of you out there, lets do the ol’ pros and cons bit. I’m gonna be straight with you right up front. If you don’t fall in the 8 – 11 year old range, or if you’re not a “child at heart” then this story probably isn’t going to do much for you. It’s another worn out retelling of Alice in Wonderland and, even more yawn inducing, a blatant re-purposing of another Neil Gaiman movie plot, Mirror Mask. The man can write comics, but apparently when it comes to film (or books that are adapted into film) he’s only got one story up his sleeve, and it goes like this: young pre-teen girl (in this case, Coraline) has a rough time at home fitting in with her family. She especially locks horns with her equally headstrong mother. Through a series of events, the girl finds herself in a topsy turvey world with elaborate strange creatures, including one that strongly resembles her mother. After enjoying a carefree romp in this new world, she declares that she prefers it to her old one and decides to stay. Once her mind has been made up, the maternal clone in the new world starts to reveal sinister intentions. It isn’t too long before the girl realizes that nothing can replace her real mother. She has to go on a mini quest and retrieve some trinkets in order to make her way home, yadda yadda yadda, happy ending.

But you know what? In some ways story is overrated. There, I said it. If I’m going to pay big bucks to see something on a big ass screen, I want to SEE something. I mean, the gritty reality of Slumdog Millionaire might make an emotional story, but you really wouldn’t miss anything if you waited until you could rent it for $4.99 and watch it at home. Coraline, on the other hand, is truly a wondrous eyeful. Nightmare Before Christmas director Henry Selick (ah ha ha. You thought it was Tim Burton, didn’t you? Yeah that’s what they wanted you to think. Burton had writer and producer credits) takes two cinematic antiquities, stop-motion animation and 3-D, does a little three card Monte shuffle with them, and boom! Transforms them into a movie going experience light years ahead of anything else in theaters.

The opening animation sequence of the film is like the safety instructions they give you on an airplane. As you don your glasses (cool, Corey Hart looking frames now, no longer those cheesy cardboard red and blue numbers), you see a spidery hand systematically dismantle a stuffed doll, which in and of itself is innocuous enough. But as seams are ripped, stuffing emptied and sutures re-sewn into the doll’s joints, a dark, creepy sensation begins to crawl up you leg, and as needle and thread come out of the screen and into your lap, it’s a tacit explanation that you better be sure you know where the nearest exits are. Which is not to say that the movie is unnecessarily jumpy or jerky. Unlike Nightmare, which was revamped for 3D theaters a few years ago, because Coraline was created with the original intention of being shown in 3D, it has none of Nightmare‘s flat moments where the 3D just seems to fade away, nor does it have any of the spinning vertigo/head ache inducing numbers.

Instead, what Coraline has is a wonderful symmetry of two thrilling media that combined produce one of the most otherworldly sensory experiences available. The stop motion animation that Selick employs gives a startling realism, a sense of texture, of depth, of shadow, and a general tactile quality that the recently omnipresent computer graphic imaging process has a hard time capturing. As Selick said in a recent interview with NPR’s All Things Considered, “Stop-motion is sort of twitchy; you feel the life in it.” He believes the beauty of stop-motion is in the traces that remain of an animator’s hand. And 3D filming, in this case, wasn’t for shock value. Selick uses it as a piece to his story telling. He says he was looking for something to give the film the same feel as the Wizard of Oz, when the picture changed from black and white, to color.

So what if the story he is telling is a little drab. The world Selick creates is anything but. Working in tandem with the standard digital surround sound, Coraline becomes a multi-sensory immersion into this fantasy land. Coraline walks through a garden and technicolor flowers pop open, their swollen red petals and yellow pollen vibrant and dazzling. She enters a darkened room and one by one, life-sized beetles begin to glow at different depths; you feel as though the closest is sitting right in front of you. A night sky bursts into a fractal swirl, and it is magic.

Coraline is a candystore filled with treats in bright, shiny packaging. It’s not enough to make a meal, but by God it is a satisfying indulgence.

Coraline the book, photo copyright by HarperCollins

Item Du Jour #31

Posted on February 20, 2009 by meghan

Bob’s your uncle, Pack Rat is the dogs bollocks

One of my favorite episodes from 90s cult classic Canadian sketch comedy troupe, Kids in the Hall, is the one where Kevin McDonald decides to grow a beard while on vacation. As the days wear on, he gets intensely attached to his beard. When he wife suggests he shave off his prized facial hair, he turns on her and shouts, “The beard stays! You go!” Lucky for us, we now don’t have to choose. At beardhead.com, those of us who are follicly challenged in the facial region can get a faux beard, and those of us who need to keep their face rug warm in these chilly winter temps can enjoy these “ski masks.” Extra bonus, they come with moustaches that you can twirl like a cartoon villain. For only $24.99, thats, like, a dollar a laugh.

photo copyrighted by beardhead.com

A Little Nepotism Never Hurt Anyone

Posted on February 19, 2009 by meghan

Pack Rat: It’s all in the family

Before I begin today’s post, I just wanted to give a shout out and a thank you to Andrew Wagner, the editor in chief from American Craft magazine who took the time to comment on Monday’s Handmade Nation blog. If you want to read his take on this awesome movie premier, check it out here.

Now to get down to business. Today I am recommending you all go and drool over the fantastic photography by Alec Chvirko at alecchvirko.com. In the interest of full, and pretty obvious disclosure, I should mention that the artist is in fact my brother. And because I know any props I give my little bro here will just seem like the biased opinion of a big sister, something akin to putting a finger painting up on my refrigerator, I’m going to give you a little smidge of a taste because his work speaks for itself. He also has a new blog, so we can all enjoy the latest fruits of his labor, fresh. If you like what you see drop him a line. He enjoys talking shop.

photos copyrighted by Alec Chvirko

alec_chvirko2

Handmade Nation

Posted on February 17, 2009 by meghan

Pack Rat pledges allegiance to the United States of Craft

If you have been reading this blog, or have in any other way been clued in to the arena of indie craft, then you’ve probably heard the buzz surrounding Handmade Nation, an independent film directed by the co-owner of Paper Boat Boutique & Gallery , Faythe Levine, with Michaela O’Herlihy as the director of photography. I was fortunate enough (and for once in my life, on the ball) to see the New York Premier last Thursday, February 12th. And what an exciting event it was!

The premier was hosted by the Museum of Arts and Design in their new Columbus Circle digs. The show was sold out, but the viewing space was on the small side which made the atmosphere cozy and intimate. Around the room, it was a veritable who’s who of people in the D.I.Y./craft world. I spotted Andrew Wagner (Editor in chief for American Craft magazine) right away, looking stylish as always in a navy fleece and the only accessory a man ever needs: his handle bar mustache. And I just about fell out of my seat when I realized that I was only a seat and an aisle away from THE Debbie Stoller of BUST magazine fame.

But obviously, I didn’t come to rub elbows with celebrities (well…maybe just a little). What I really came for was to see the film that takes a loving look at a subject near and dear to me, new wave craft. As first time film makers, Levine and O’Herlihy did an excellent job. They cover a large swath of creators in the field, interviewing a bevy of people who use the whole spectrum of materials. From Nikki McClure‘s paper cuttings, to Jenny Hart‘s famous embroidery, to Deb Dormody‘s book making, the range of talent that Levine taps is huge; not to mention the personalities. The guys who run the ubiquitous buyolympia.com, the original online source for quality indie crafts, are pretty hilarious as they describe what it was like to package shipments while standing up for nine hours at a clip, for four months before they could afford to get chairs. And the down to earth, straight talk about the nature of the relationship between the artist and consumer from Andrew Scott and Breezy Culbertson, of the San Francisco shop Needles and Pens, is insightful and a bit edgy (in a refreshing way).

Levine and O’Herlihy are wise in opening up the forum of D.I.Y. discussion to not only those people who make the precious and precocious trinkets that we all devour, but also to the purveyors (those who love and believe in the artists enough to hock their goods but aren’t necessarily part of the creative process themselves), as well as magazine editors, presidents of organizations, and an assortment of other people who exist on the periphery of this cultural movement. It’s heartening to have everyone’s suspicions confirmed; that this new era in crafts is being driven by socially conscious creators and consumers alike, who turn to indie craft for complicated reasons, not just for a cute owl emblem. Certain themes keep resurfacing with everyone Levine speaks to. The idea of anti-mass production, of a one of a kind sensibility; the concept of reused materials, re-purposed items, and provisions used completely; and a freedom/expansion from the claustrophobic world of “fine art” are repeating motifs.

In the end, however, the film left me wanting more. There is such a massive consensus among everyone involved about what the movement means and why it’s occurring, that there doesn’t seem to be any narrative tension to move the film along. The aforementioned ideas reappear over and over again, almost to the person. I kept asking myself as I viewed Handmade Nation, “if I was a complete neophyte, with little to no interest in this subject, how would I feel about this movie?” And I found myself wishing for something more inviting, more compelling for outsiders. Levine takes a democratic approach, inviting all of her guests to have equal screen time. Which is exactly what a good friend should do…but maybe not a director. Interviewees with real screen presence, insightful points of view, and captivating stories are dutifully left behind in favor of some elaborate, yet drab discussions of favorite pieces, fun craft shows, etc.

And while the truth is that in indie craft, you end up seeing a lot of the same images over and over again, (someone in the film commented that the concern is always, how many bird and apple printed things can people buy?) as someone pretty familiar with the topic, I was hoping for more innovation, for more surprises. Although there is still plenty to be said for the pieces featured in Handmade Nation. I especially fell in love with the segment on Knitta, the guerrilla group of urban knit “taggers.” And Mandy Greer‘s crochet installation pieces are so dramatic and enchanting that you feel like your stepping through the rabbit hole while you’re looking at them. (Side note: Greer was on a discussion panel after the film. While explaining what place her crochet has in her life, she mentioned that while she is creating a piece, she carries it everywhere with her, working on it in little increments all day long until it is done. And in this way, her life gets woven into the larger picture of what she is creating. I thought that was such a wonderful idea.)

Ultimately, however, these small issues do little to mar the whole. Handmade Nation is an exhilarating portrait of a movement propelling forward, seeming to gain in power as our country wakes up to the realization that the gold cow of consumerism is a crappy false idol. Hopefully Levine and O’Herlihy can help introduce a new path.

Booky Books

Posted on February 10, 2009 by meghan

Pack Rat doesn’t want to work, we just want to read our books all day

I have a sickness in my brain, there’s no other way around it. Why else would I go to a used book sale when I am actively engaged in the painful, on-going process of ridding myself of the main piles of books cluttering up my tiny apartment? Well, I guess the fact that library book sales are THE go-to event for super amazing deals on great reads could factor in. But I have a sickness, none the less.

But how could I pass this sale up? If library sales in general are the bee’s knees, then this one (which happens every year in the town of Mansfield, CT) is the dog’s bollocks of great deals. I got a handful of goodies for only $2.50. $2.50! I can’t even get a pretzel for $2.50 these days. Now, before you judge me and my Pack Rat ways, lets look at my haul, shall we?

First up, classic naturalist fiction The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett. I luv this book, with its quiet descriptions of the sleepy little seaside town in Maine. It is so deeply soul soothing, its like a literary cup of tea. I somehow lost my original copy (the shame!), so I was thrilled to find this retro-looking cover. Plus, none of my insipid undergrad notes and half-hearted highlighting muck up this text, unlike the lost copy. Bonus.

Next, In the Skin of a Lion by Michael Ondaatje, which I have yet to read. I’ve never seen The English Patient the movie, but the book was surprisingly intriguing with exotic locales and mixes of traditional story telling and stream of consciousness rambling that was balanced enough to serve the story instead of hurting it, which can’t be said for a lot of “experimental” fiction. I expect more of the same in this tale of Toronto immigrant workers in the 1920s. Also to note: if it’s good enough for Maxine Hong Kingston then it’s good enough for me (yay Warrior Women!)

I also snagged the epic poem about a cockroach and a cat in her ninth life, Archy and Mehitabel, on my dad’s recommendation. I’m not typically a poem kinda gal, but this is categorized under humor and the pen and ink illustrations struck a chord with my comic book loving heart. Plus, I always like to buy books with inscriptions in them, and someone wrote in this copy, “For Mary and Bill (P.S. I know Mary, I’m not Irish–But I am–to quote Popeye: ‘I yam what I yam’) Lee.”

And, because as we all know, I’m a DIY dork, I grabbed Sheetrock & Shellac, a Connecticut (CT Represent!) homeowner’s memoir into his foray with DIY home projects. This will probably not be the kind of book I can talk about at cocktail parties, unlike the other three, but who the hell goes to cocktail parties in a PBR economy anyway? Sheee-it.

And finally (and this is the one that I couldn’t wait to share), I happened to glance at the “travel” table as I wandered around the room, and I found this distinctly un-travel related Chinese/English design magazine that I’m totally grokking out about. It’s called Zing. My issue is from back in September 2006, but it’s still in print and can be found online at xintiandi.com (not to be confused with Zing magazine which is something different, apparently). I managed to hook the Fashion Issue (I love the extra added touch of the pink, fabric “The Fashion Issue” tag sticking out of the binding), and it’s chock a block with cool designs, modern layouts, and interesting articles on a variety of artists, crafters, and designers. Plus– super, uber, double, mega bonus–it’s in both Chinese and English. And I would have bought it just for the pretty pictures. The current issue online features vibrant photos–both expansive and intimate, as well as intriguing articles about artists and their projects, like Lindley Warren’s photo project, The Ones we Love. I’m not quite sure yet how I can get my hands on another physical copy, but if I find out I’ll let you guys know. Until then, we should both keep Zing, and its stream-lined urban sophistication on our radar. Check out some pics below.

I’m on a Mission

Posted on February 3, 2009 by meghan

Pack Rat hates the word “photog”

Okay, so anyone who’s spent any amount of time whatsoever on this blog knows that I go absolutely ape shit for good graffiti. Especially stuff that’s kind of raw and hidden away, stuff that doesn’t necessarily look like there’s an ad campaign attached to it. But, I was standing on the subway the other day (because the subway has been packed with wall to wall meat puppets recently, with nary a seat in sight), and the new little unnecessary waste of tax payer’s money TV screen on the W train flashed that there was no graffiti or “scratchitti” allowed. “Scratchitti?” You mean to tell me there’s a whole other method of public displays of anonymous art? Fucking sweet.

I quickly looked into it, using the awesome power of Google, and was disapointed to find that my initial search didn’t turn up anything of note. Scratchitti, it seems, has only really reached the primative point of carving words into surfaces with clumsy block lettering. But I am still intrigued and hopeful for the potential of this new (yet centuries old) form of street art.

Now, something I know to be a relatively new phenomenon (and by relatively new, I mean in the last decade or so. What, you expect something more cutting edge? What do you people want? I have a life you know. Jeez.) is art ala USPS sticker. This is where the artist punks out because he/she doesn’t want to get caught doing real graffiti and instead doodles a little something on a USPS label and slaps it on some random public place. But I’m not hatin’. Some of the stuff out there is really fun, and probably a sticker is a bit more socially conscious than a massive painting or a forever scratched window. At least a sticker can be peeled off by people with sticks up their bum about that kind of thing.

Although sadly, because of the stickers’ impermanance, it means that some of these gems will disappear almost as soon as they are put up, either removed by a vigilant public works drone, or washed away by a good solid rain. So, keeping that in mind I am out to preserve as many of these little devils as I can, and because I’m such a giver, I’ll make sure to post the best ones here so we can all enjoy these little acts of creativity. Like the one below, which I found at the corner of 32nd St and 30th Ave in Astoria.

AND, as if you weren’t already sick of me enough, this segues nicely into the other photo project that I’m starting. From February 2nd onward, I’ll be taking a picture a day for a full year. I know, hardly a new concept, but what the hell? Just because it’s hackneyed doesn’t mean it can’t be fun. Just don’t get your panties in a bunch about it. Take deep breaths and try to relax and everything will be fine. I promise.

sticker

Altered Reality

Posted on February 2, 2009 by meghan

Pack Rat is pulling your strings

Some people have marionette fears. I would never judge these people…except that I do. Now, don’t get me wrong. The soulless eyes of a baby doll can totally creep me out, given the right set of circumstances (like if I woke up and it’s little glass eyes were right there, staring into mine? I got a chill just thinking about it). But puppets? How can anyone be scared of puppets? They’re so cool. Now, while the figures who inhabit Chris Sickles’ Red Nose Studio 3D illustrated surreality aren’t technically puppets, they have all the allure of a puppet with their quasi-humanistic features slightly off kilter by strange, angled features and carved details that allow for some pretty serious dramatic shadowing. There’s definitely something Punch and Judy about his subjects.

But, unlike a puppet show where the boundaries of the stage always keep the audience aware that there are hidden hands pulling strings, the illustrations coming out of Red Nose Studio are so complete and detailed (with no strings visible), that you get the sense not that you’re looking at a staged photo, but rather a window into another, more magical world. What’s even better, is that Sickles seems to primarily ply his trade to niche magazines, so a lot of his wild dreamscapes are really illustrating a magazine article on, say, how annuities are a promising option for retirement income. Insane! Who ever thought someone could take such a concrete (and dry) topic and turn it into a conceptual visual of a man literally rooting himself to the ground? Or take this awesome example. The magazine article is about how to predict where your small business will be in five years. Sickles took that basic premise and twisted it around like a Rubik’s cube, and ended up with this whimsical, fantastic little guy peering into the future. I think Neil Gaiman wishes he lived in Chris Sickles’ imagination. I know I do.