Tuesday, January 17, 2012
I'm working on Love and Rockets again in earnest, trying to flesh it out beyond the literal pictures. How to weave the tangential images to the pillar images that relate to the title? Still struggling with that - I feel it needs a lot more pictures and maybe a book style layout to help me see how to structure the project.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Space Farm 7 was an actual NASA program designed to promote agricultural tourism. NASA sponsored 7 corporate farmers across the country who designed corn mazes around space exploration themes and opened them to the public. There were grade school like information stations about NASA history placed sporadically through out the maze. Unfortunately, the only way to really see the maze design was to be in a low flying plane. These stairs led to a 12 foot high viewing stand so you could orient yourself in the tall stalks. I visited The Rock farm in middle Georgia last fall, which kindly provided lifeguards who sat in perches above the maze with bullhorns and helped the truly lost find their way out of the corn. It's kind of tragic that NASA is engaging in this kind of program - what happened to exploring space? At the same time, this melding of corn fields and the final frontier is such a thoroughly American idea. Can you imagine the meeting where Space Farm 7 was cooked up? Wish I could have been there.
The abandoned house on our street has finally been claimed by someone who plans to restore it and flip the home. A team of men descended on the house, threw all the junk, including this globe, in a dumpster, and began the renovation. Prior to their arrival, the house was so magic and spooky. The doors had always been open and the home was full of personal belongings - it seemed as if the inhabitants had gone to the store one day and never returned. A desk with pulled out drawers rotted on the front porch. The garden shed was full of shinny new tools, and the house lay at the end of a long, wooded driveway. Trees had fallen across the drive. Pine needles muffled the sound of approaching feet. Everything was wonderfully contradictory and also exactly the way a novelist would invoke a haunted house. I could never bring myself to go upstairs. Once we came and the entry hall had been sprayed with its first graffiti, "This is the Dog's House." The handwriting was oddly feminine.
Our tradition was to visit it every Halloween. The lack of facts was so exciting. The eerie house made our street special - we had a secret and a mystery. I imagine the workmen will be installing granite countertops.
Monday, January 2, 2012
The wooden stick on this rocket burned in two, which caused the gun powder head hit the iron railing and ricochet backwards into the spectators, namely me. Though there were no injuries, this was the liveliest moment in a tame, child-centered New Year's Eve celebration.