Nathaniel Russell: The Opposite of Lost

I found Nathanial Russell’s fliers and fake books, clicked around his site and fell in love with his whole aesthetic and ethic, simple drawings, full of ideas, empathetic innocence, absurdity, DIY analog spirit, humor and wit. And he plays guitar and makes lofi accousticy songs! My kind of guy.

Nathaniel Russell art

 

Spring Break in Paris With Maile

Spring Break in Paris With Maile

The music just below is one one of the recordings I made in Paris, this one of an accordion player on a pedestrian bridge. Hit play now so that the sounds of Paris will accompany you. OK. Can you hear the melancholy French jazz?

accordian player on the Ponte Nuef

accordion player on the Ponte Nuef playing a melancholy Autumn Leaves

Maile and I originally planned to travel to Paris together for our 10th wedding anniversary. Two and a half years later we made it, by ourselves, for a full week. We rented a wonderful loft appartment on AirBnb in the Marais, from which we sauntered out an back every day.

I took about 1600 photos with my little Canon G7X and got it down to about 250 favorites shots that I’ve posted as an album on Flickr. See the slideshow at the end of this post. I’ll try to whittle it way down here and tell the story of our trip primarily in pictures and captions.

We arrived on Saturday morning and took the train into the city.

We arrived on Saturday morning and took the train into the city (with Charles Beaver, Anais’s envoy).

Walking from the Metro to find our place we stopped at Le Petite Marcel for lunch.

Walking from the Metro to find our apartment we stopped at Le Petite Marcel for lunch.

The beautiful blue door to the building where we stayed.

the beautiful blue door to the building where we stayed

the reflection of our front building in the shiny black van opposite

the reflection of our front building in the shiny black van opposite

The beautiful classic bicycle that was always locked outside our door

The beautiful classic bicycle that was always locked outside our door

The Pompidou

We stayed two blocks from the Pompidou, passing it every day, eating across from it. Here are a few of the outside and then a few of my favorite works inside.

Pompidou plaza

Pompidou plaza

seven people sitting in front of the Pompidou

seven people sitting in front of the Pompidou

We stayed a few blocks from the Pompidou, a wonderful modern art gallery

my reflection in the window of the line and houses opposite

Man Ray's room of art and beautiful objects

Man Ray’s room of art and beautiful objects

shiny spinning metal shape with divets in a black and white lined box

shiny spinning metal shape with divets in a black and white lined box

Giacometti people

Giacometti people

I particularly liked the Gerard Fromanger exhibit, his use of monochrome figures and infographics.

painting by Gérard Fromanger

painting by Gérard Fromanger

painting by Gérard Fromanger

painting by Gérard Fromanger

Paris skyline

view from the top of the Pompidou; see the Eifell Tower shining it’s spotlight in the distance

we caught these break dancers entertaining the crowd in front of Hôtel de Ville

break dancers entertaining a crowd in front of Hôtel de Ville

break dancer balancing on one hand

break dancer balancing on one hand

Reflection on the front of a bus

reflection on the front of a bus

woman in red hat waiting, man in black coat turning away

waiting for the light to change on a bridge over the Seine

the view through the menu

the view through the menu

Paris swing band on the bridge over the Seine

Paris swing on a bridge over the Seine

colorful juice window

colorful juice window

reflection in car top

reflection in car top

reflection in bus window w driver

reflection in bus window w driver smoking

Maile on the Ponte Nuef overlooking the Siene

Maile on the Ponte Nuef overlooking the Siene

ladies at a cafe

ladies at a cafe

people sitting on the steps leading down to the Seine

people sitting on the steps leading down to the Seine

man running with child

man running with child. one of my favorite moments to capturing, participating in that pure joy.

men in front of a flower shop

men in front of a flower shop

pedicabbies looking left as the man in black walks right

pedicabbies looking left as the man in black walks right

mannequin with reflection of tower and tree

mannequin with reflection of tower and tree

I lived off these lovely fresh baguette sandwiches

I loved lunching on these fresh baguette sandwiches

a perfectly pruned park

a perfectly pruned park

the Mona Lisa hype machine

the Mona Lisa hype machine (I found it hard to appreciate the Louvre)

Street Art

There was so much great street art everywhere, from centuries old sculpture to  to stickers, art sellers and graffiti, chalk artists and street musicians. Hardly a block went by that I didn’t notice a gorgeous door. I was always stopping to snap something and then running to catch up with Maile.

statues throughout the city had been secretly blindfolded in scarlet

statues throughout the city had been secretly blindfolded in scarlet (an art stunt meant to draw attention to the ubiquitous – and easily overlooked – statuary)

chalk drawing on wall

i love this chalk drawing, a face made out of squares, making eyes out of cracks in the wall

vandals with a nice sense of color

wonderful street art everywhere. vandals with a nice sense of color

HUMANITY shakes hands with POWER

HUMANITY shakes hands with POWER

poster of baseball cap

Trust The Classics

turquoise pattern with clothing cutouts

turquoise pattern with clothing cutouts

a cup of shit (by Space Invader, I think)

a cup of shit (by Space Invader, I think

Now listen to the slow funky Flamenco sounds of a guitarist echoing in the Subway.

guitarist in the subway

guitarist in the subway

Musée d’Orsay

Musée d’Orsay was a pure delight and inspiration. So many beautiful works of art that I’d never seen, and in a beautifully converted old converted train station.

painting from the Orsay, Paris

painting in the Orsay

painting at Musee D'Orsay

sculpture at the Orsay

reflections at the Orsay

reflections at the Orsay

Picasso Museum

a window upon rooftops

a window upon rooftops, the distortions of the hand-blown glass making a painting

stone sculpture head

viewer of a Picasso painting

black paintings w names/numbers

Picasso sculpture

Picasso drawing

Picasso painting

And there are so many more I’d like to include. Here is a slideshow of all my favorites:

A Few Favorite Santa Fe Artists

A Few Favorite Santa Fe Artists

Tim Althauser

I’ve been looking for nature motifs for music poster ideas recently, particularly photos of the sky through the trees. In Santa Fe I shot dozens of what I call looking up at trees. So you can imagine how excited I was when I found Tim Althauser’s paintings of looking up at trees at the William and Joseph Gallery.

Apparently he is in his 70s, has suffered a stoke and applies painstaking detail despite a limited range of movement. I love these.

Tim AlthauserTim AlthauserUntitled

Mark Horst

When I saw Mark Horst’s style, it reminded me of what I like about Mark Tansey and the fellow whose painting – Chesapeake Birdwatchers – hangs in our room. Figures in the foreground, abstract, minimal background.

From talking with the gallery owner I learned he is a divinity and fine arts grad from Yale who went the art route. Apparently, he changes up his style for each series. This one is from a trip to Injambakkam, India. It looks like he works from photographs.

UntitledUntitledUntitled

 Various Artists

Here are a few other artist’s work I liked, snapped a pic of around town.

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I Am From

A friend from high-school posted a poem by her 9-yr-old daughter Vivian on Facebook last week. I printed it and brought it home to read to the family and nearly teared-up each time I read it, I thought it was so beautifully done. What a wonderful portrait of childhood. Very Whitmanian, if you ask me.

I Am From
By Vivian Stang

I am from the dog that barks at night
and the cats that roam around my street.

I am from Cape Cod and the warm blue sea.
I am from hamburgers and their wonderful, juicy taste.

I am from the Sarabinh and
Charlie branch and their love for me.
I am from my grandma’s brownies and sponge cake.

I am from my sister’s tight hug
and warm happy smile.
I am from my cat meowing when she wants food.

I am from soccer, kicking the ball through the field
and passing it to my teammates.

I am from running with my friends in the park
and sitting while our ice cream
drips onto the ground.

I am from my cozy bed
and playing with my sister on Saturday mornings.
I am from my mom reading stories to me in bed.

I am from sitting on the couch and quietly reading.
I am from chatting at the dinner table with
my family.

I am from joking around with my with my friends
and getting out of bed to give my parents
hugs every morning.

I am from gulping down my mom’s chocolate cake
and cleaning my room, while listening to music.

I am from riding on the back of a horse,
feeling the wind brush against my face.
I am from making sandcastles at the beach.

I am from laughing with my friends
and reading to my little sister.
I am from playing UNO with my grandparents and
listening to my grandma play piano.

I am from biking with my mom,
while watching the endless bike trail.

I am from the things that make me, me.


Here’s my first attempt at my I Am From poem:

I Am From
by Jason Molin

I am from my first little record player, singing along, “We sail the ocean blue and our saucy ship’s a beauty!”

I am from the alley behind the house, kickball, or a soccer ball against the wall, or setting up ramps and riding off them over and over again, jumping trashcans with Matt.

I am from walking to school, skateboarding, bussing or riding my bike back and forth along Connecticut Ave. or Reno Rd. I am from forgetting my books and having to go back to school. I am from getting a ride home with Mark or Saul or Mrs. Brady.

I am from crazy beautiful flawed teachers, Mr. Emerson, Stick Sturtevant, Mr. King, my ceramics teacher, what was his name? What would I be without their passion and patience? I am from Manfred and Gurland, my philosophical fathers.

I am from my mother’s beautiful house, the oriental rugs, the walls full of art and shelves full of books. I am from Al’s meals, dinners in the kitchen, with guests in the dining room around a turkey, well-spiced sautéed vegetables, an interesting soup, pecan pies, occasionally meringues. I am from long conversations afterward, talking around the fire until we’re tired.

I am from singing at church, from the trumpet what was my father’s, from high-school musicals, from the acoustic guitar I used to sing my soul over and over and never stopped. I am from jamming and singing whenever and wherever and those who join in.

I am from The Song of Myself and The War of Art, I am from If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out and Love Rescue Me. I am from Across the Universe and One Love.

I am from Maile’s animals, her loving name for everything. I am from Anais’s art, each dance, song, drawing, story, and scene.

I am from walking or biking the streets of DC, NY, Dublin, and Austin, lost in thought, noticing reflections, singing to myself, snapping pics or jotting down ideas, rethinking the strategy, making resolutions, noticing signs and designs, catching people’s eyes.

I am from the rhythm of words, birdsong, dancing and hugging and kissing in the sun. I am from staying up late, disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind. I am Sylvester as the stone, waking early and meditating on a world with and beyond me.