Inspired by the gift of wine mentioned in a previous post, I’ve begun a glassware series. Shallow depth of field and natural light—my favorite combination. All are available for royalty-free licensing at iStockphoto.
The pictures of this blog are the sole property of Candice Cusack. Any use of these pictures without her express permission is forbidden.
One of my favorite subjects is color and over the years I’ve learned a great deal from books by Leatrice Eiseman, executive director of the Pantone Color Institute. She is a wonderful writer, an amazing color guru, and never ceases to inspire.
The color red is of great interest and shows up frequently in my work. Whenever I’ve asked someone what their favorite color is, I’ve never gotten a reply “red.” And yet the same person would most likely agree to being attracted to red and admit as much with a broad smile. Red is exciting and it elicits a reaction.
As Eiseman points out in Colors for Your Every Mood, we experience a strong physiological response to red. It increases eye blinking and causes one’s blood pressure, respiration, heartbeat, and pulse rate to increase. We perspire more and adrenalin is released into the bloodstream. In the presence of red, we seem to be physically preparing to take action if necessary. Our sense of smell improves, our taste buds become sensitive, appetite improves. There can be a hormonal response and corresponding sexual response. Studies have shown that red is inherently exciting to the brain and in more ways than any other color of equal intensity. We are irresistibly drawn to red.
Below are a few samples of my work that feature red in different ways: prominently and boldly, secondarily and compatibly, or as a punctuating accent. Please click on any of the images to be directed to a light box of nearly 100 similar expressions of abstract architecture available for licensing at iStockphoto.
The pictures of this blog are the sole property of Candice Cusack. Any use of these pictures without her express permission is forbidden.
A wonderful friend recently sent me some wine. She let me know that a package was on its way, but otherwise I had no idea what to expect. When the box was delivered it felt cool to the touch. I opened it to find two bottles, perfectly packed, chilled and ready to drink, with ribbon and cards attached. She had noted the type of wine I like and sent her favorites. They were divine.
Gift-giving is an art, in many ways a lost art. In this case, there was no holiday involved. We are long distance friends and a couple of weeks prior I’d gotten some good news. So, to that extent she was celebrating with me. But, at heart, the gesture was a simple act of kindness and appreciated all the more by virtue of its unadorned simplicity.
The kind of work I do results in virtual friendships. And they can be bittersweet. I’ve “met” some of the greatest people I’ve ever known. A few, like my friend who sent wine, are also generous gift-givers. While the inability to meet for dinner is frustrating, the distance seems to open up space for signs of affection that might not occur if we lived across town from one another. For that I am grateful.
The text and picture of this blog are the sole property of Candice Cusack. Any use of this picture or text without her express permission is forbidden.
MoMA’s exhibit includes murals and associated drawings made by Rivera in 1931. The museum had only just opened in 1929 and he was the subject of their second exhibit. The challenge was how to show work of a muralist whose art is defined by its creation at a particular site and on an immovable architectural structure. They ended up bringing him to New York six weeks prior to the opening and provided him with space to create portable murals. With the help of two assistants he worked nonstop and produced eight murals (six of the eight are featured here). Five pertain to Mexican history and three to New York history. My favorites are the New York murals as they very pointedly reflect the difficult time period he was here—the Great Depression … a recurring theme in this country.
This video provides a brief overview. The exhibit runs through May 14, 2012.
I love a new year. Within the newness lies an element of possibility that feels limitless. And that feeling, that sense of potential—it’s rare and short lived and all the more precious because of it. While I don’t make resolutions, I do think about where I’d like my energy to go and especially how I’d like to conserve it.
I’ve always been a bookworm, although I’m not exactly sure how that came to be. My parents were readers. Standard bestsellers for the most part. My mother liked to remind me—with hands on hips—that she’d read Atlas Shrugged when it was first published, as though that was an obvious walk on the wild side requiring no further explanation. And that’s what’s so odd. They never discussed what they read, at least not with me. As a kid, whenever I read something I enjoyed I couldn’t stop talking about it. And I’m still that way. Regardless, books were present in the house and my mom and dad supported my own interests. That must have been enough of a foundation to become an avid reader.
In October 2nd’s post, I spoke of a book I was beginning in lieu of visiting New York. At that time I’d only read about 50 pages and barely knew what I was getting into. Now, having finished it, I can say that Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan’s de Kooning: An American Master, is one of the greatest and most inspiring books I’ve ever read. Sadly, what led me to the book in the first place, the retrospective at MoMA, ends in a week and I won’t be able to see his collected work in person. Nonetheless, the book was a priceless adventure that I hope others will also experience.
My point about energy management and conservation is this…. During the three months I spent reading de Kooning, I felt truly happy to be captivated by one simple thing, a book. It was a treasure and resource that I looked forward to picking up each day. I loved that it was long (630 pages not counting end notes) and that it was taking me forever to read it (mostly on breaks from work as I waited for my tea to steep). The writing, the subject matter: all art. I felt focused, invigorated, filled with ideas. It became at once central and centering. The entire experience was wonderful. And so much of the joy was derived from engagement in a single task that was free of distraction. Reading. Just reading.
Here’s to 2012, to good books, and to keeping it simple!
The text and picture of this blog are the sole property of Candice Cusack. Any use of this picture or text without her express permission is forbidden.
I’ve loved this song since it came out in 2009 but missed her 2010 Grammy Awards performance. And even though I’d heard it was amazing, I didn’t seek out the video until last week to find out exactly why. Words can barely describe my reaction. I’ve watched the video countless times, shared it with friends—all very with-it people who’d also never seen it!—it’s shown up in my dreams, and the song is embedded in my mind. In a good way. In terms of inspiration, her performance ranks up there with the best. Enjoy.
Willem de Kooning, Pink Angels (1945)
In New York, where autumn and art are one, a rare exhibit has opened at MoMA—de Kooning: A Retrospective. The entire 6th floor gallery is filled with nearly 200 works including paintings, sculptures, drawings, and prints created by the 20th-century Dutch-American artist most often described as an abstract expressionist.
Drawn to samples of his work shown in promotional pieces, in particular Pink Angels at left, I began researching his life and came across a book published in 2008 that received rave reviews (and The Pulitzer Prize) entitled, de Kooning: An American Master, by Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan. I got hold of a copy and have been immersed ever since. It’s over 600 pages, not counting end notes, and it is fantastic. If I don’t make it to NY for the exhibit, I will still feel enriched by the book. Most biographies of great length require Herculean dedication when slogging through the slow parts, but so far (I’m still reading!) every chapter has been interesting.
The exhibit runs through January 9, 2012.
The text of this blog is the sole property of Candice Cusack. Any use of the text without her express permission is forbidden.
I have a couple of apartment-dwelling friends who live in the heart of downtown Seattle on the 25th floor. Why I’ve not invited myself over before now is beyond me, but a couple of weeks ago I asked if I might come up for a visit at twilight with my camera. What I didn’t realize is that they have three balconies facing west in the direction of Elliott Bay and north toward the Lake Union area. Because that lovely time of night passes so quickly, I made a commitment to one vantage point and set up my tripod on the balcony facing north. The urban views are fabulous and so are my friends (they even fixed me dinner!). Here are a few results.
The text and pictures of this blog are the sole property of Candice Cusack. Any use of these pictures or text without her express permission is forbidden.
Skatepark Architecture
The text and picture of this blog are the sole property of Candice Cusack. Any use of this picture or text without her express permission is forbidden.