Sunday, January 15, 2012

Leonard da Vinci Handbag



An interruption to this blog hiatus, to point out this article on the handbag drawing / design by da Vinci.  Yes, that's Leonardo da Vinci.  Another article highlights that this drawing is a reconstructed fragment.  I'd be curious to know just what that process might be.


Here's a beautiful video of the design brought to life:





At any rate, you can find me on my other blog more often than here. But I couldn't resist posting this gem.






Saturday, April 30, 2011

The Asprey


Margaret Thatcher's famous handbag has gone up for auction.  You can read more about it here.  The proceeds are going to charity apparently.

In other purse 'news' - did you read the Oprah magazine, poetry issue?  Of course you did.  Then perhaps you came across this:

"When I least expect it something strikes me. Just now, for instance, we were driving westward and stopped at the West Virginia welcome station, and I looked at the woman next to me who tucked her purse between her legs to wash her hands, and that little action triggered something in me—I suddenly thought of all the things we do subconsciously to keep things neat, and the way women carry purses around." 
—Rita Dove





Thursday, February 10, 2011

A messenger, a smuggler, a weapon, a battle cry.

It's wonderful ain't it when two obsessions coincide?  Admittedly I've let the purse thread drop from this blog, but I've been writing about purses in my current novel and constantly thinking about them.  And well, the typing thing.  The sound of the typewriter is in my head a fair bit, shall we say.  I can tell you that I plotzed when I saw the above here.  Which led me to the Kate Spade site where I saw her book clutch.  Swoon!  Meanwhile, a friend pointed out Willow Rector's site to me.  She has a very lovely collection of handbags designed after women writers.

There have also been some purse references in some of the novels I've been reading lately and I thought I'd note them here.  Blog as notebook?  Why not.

From Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar:

Her college was so fashion-conscious, she said, that all the girls had pocket-book covers made out of the same material as their dresses, so each time they changed their clothes they had a matching pocket-book.  This kind of detail impressed me.  It suggested a whole life of marvellous, elaborate decadence that attracted me like a magnet.


From Herman Hesse's Steppenwolf:

This bag was no bag, this purse no purse, flowers no flowers, the fan no fan.  All were the plastic material of love, of magic and delight.  Each was a messenger, a smuggler, a weapon, a battle cry.


From Cynthia Ozick's Foreign Bodies:

A more conscientious guidebook, the one sequestered at the bottom of her capacious bag - passport, notepad, camera, tissues, aspirin, and so on - was not jaunty.



The purse as acute social marker - one that may suggest a whole life.  The bag as the material of love, the bag as smuggler.  And the bag as concealment device, capacious mode of sequestering.


More purse thoughts on the way.  Soon.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

I continue to type


What more is there to do?  I continue to type.  And when I type I dream.  I hear things.  I find the process relaxing but only in a completely nerve wracking way.  Typing is without.  Without spell check and without Google a mere click away.  YouTube is insanely far off.  It's science fiction.  Typing is humming.  Typing is not like a box of chocolates.  Typing is glamorous and tawdry.  When I type I smoke cigarettes and wear high heels.  I type when I'm nervous and I type when I dream I am typing.  And that is all the typing for today.

More of the series:  is here.



Thursday, January 20, 2011

Type Baby


I've never entertained the thought of putting a 'watermark' on my photos until, well, just now.  Firstly, I'm just monkeying around with the camera, having fun.  There are quadzillions of people who take their photography seriously and who are extremely talented.  I see it on Flickr every day as I cruise through my contacts' photos.  These are people who know what the buttons on their camera can do.  Me, honestly, not so much.

I've also not wanted to watermark anything because it would mean, to me if no one else, that I thought I was fancy, which could lead me to start taking the whole thing seriously.  And I really just want it to be fun.  An escape of sorts.  Goofing around, for sure.  But then yesterday, I googled myself, something I don't do that often since it can be damaging to my fragile and dainty little ego, and lo and behold, people are posting my photos.  Weird.  Cool.  And it seems like I'm being linked back to, so I don't have a huge problem with that.  (If they hadn't linked back to me and credited me, I guess I'd never have found them).  So, I don't know if I'll stick to putting my name on my photos.  Maybe some of them?  It's an experiment.



Well, speaking of fun.  I've been thinking about the lines in the above photo for a while, and finally had some time to do the typing.  Took me a few tries.  Here it is on Flickr if you want to see it in a different format.

Okay, so it's interesting, other people linking to, maybe even copying your photos, on the web.  Partly it doesn't matter to me that much because I have no hope of making money off of them, you know?  And partly because my artistic ego is more tied to my writing.  Not that I'm making a mint off of that either, ha.  As my three faithful readers of this blog know, the book I'm hoping to get published is an experimental-ish novel about the possibility of a woman art forger.  I'm deep into the writing of another book by now, but it's interesting how it's impossible to shake the previous obsession.  All those years of thinking about what it means to fake something, what a fake is, and how this affects us as viewers, as consumers.  Hmmm.

Last week I received a few books, one that I'd had on order for a while - A Closer Look: Deceptions & Discoveries.  (This is the catalogue for the show at the National Gallery in London last fall).   Then a book called, Copy, Archive, Signature: A conversation on photography, Jacques Derrida.  Haven't had enough time to spend with that at all lately.  The last is a copy of "in praise of copying" by Marcus Boon.  If you look at the bottom lefthand side of the page on the Harvard site, you can see that it's possible to download the book for free.  And I did contemplate doing that.  In the end, somehow that felt just too weird.  And also, the offering of the thing for free, made me want to pay for it even more.

So, that's all I'll say about books I don't have the time to read.  Bad habit, right. But the three of them stacked together are my small offering to the gods of publishing.  My book would look very nice intermingled.  Just sayin'.