Color Me Rad

Here are a few things you should know about me: 1.  If I were to start a '90s tribute band it would be called Color Me Rad 2.  I'm not ever going to do that and 3.  I am writing a post about color today so my witty wordplay won't be lost on my own inner monologue.  You're welcome. In gearing up for today's post I found myself drawn to photos filled edge to edge in big, bold color.  While I'm most definitely steering my home decor ship into the land of neutrals, I still can't help but swoon when confronted with big bright pattern thrown right in my face.  Let's look, shall we?

Honestly, I don't even know what this is.  I'm sure one of you out there does.  Tell us, won't you?  For now I'm just glad to know someone had this idea and made it happen.

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I think what I love most about this barn (as with the image above it) is the bright color splashed against a dreary backdrop.  The interest lies in the contrast.

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Of course, color against color is pretty great too.  I especially love the little house on the prairie floral mixed in.  And apparently it's audience participation day here as I'm about to ask you dudes what the hell is happening with that magic light over there?

My affinity for beaded African seating continues.

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Colorful neon bars hung vertically say "hey, neon isn't just for Miami and you're going to like it." Now, let's get some Laura Ingalls Wilder Wallpaper up in this joint and we'll be good to go.

These photos by photographer Alain Delorme pretty much rock my face off.  Why didn't I just make this whole post about him?  Expect to see him again, be prepared to act surprised.

We will not be making any Rianna references here other than to say that there will be no Rianna references.  This photo is dope and it doesn't sing through it's nose so, win.

And there you go.  There was color, it was rad.  You know what it did.

Dan Holdsworth

I still dream of unfolding my old 4x5 field camera, of throwing a black cloth over my head, cocking the shutter, and then waiting... and waiting. Landscape photography is about patience and time. It's about breathless observation -- inhale and stand stock still. Tack sharpness cuts both ways. I cannot count how many nights I stood guard beside an open shutter, straining to see what my camera would see. There are many gods in my pantheon of the vast view: Edward Weston, Richard Misrach, Edward Burtynsky, Andreas Gursky, and then there is Dan Holdsworth.

Holdsworth's works traverse the earth's edges, from Icelandic vistas to American roadways. Like Timothy O'Sullivan over a century before him, he is master of the sublime, charter of both romance and terror.

Using no tricks, no manipulations -- only film and the cool remove of omniscient observation -- he shows us the beauty and horror of an alien world that pulses before our very eyes.

And yet it's the same world we all live in. If you look very carefully you will see it here, there, and everywhere.

Happy Mick Jagger Day

If it seems like I've been phoning in my posts all week, it's because I kinda have been. The inlaws arrived last Sunday and are staying until today (woo hoo for free babysitting!). Meanwhile I have a raging sinus infection, tons of work to do, and SXSW has been going on this week. So if I owe you an email, or if I haven't commented on your blog, please accept my apologies.

Mick would like to make it up to you.

You can't be mad at Mr. Pouty Pants, and so by proxy you can't be mad at me.

Happy weekend!

[Magnus Marding, Elle Decor, James McInroe]