Custom Order: Octopi, Revamped

Spring is finally upon us, and with it, bicycling season.

I just finished a custom helmet for a girl named Natalie out in California. It was my first official commission for Ferocious Ostrich Helmets, and it was so much fun to collaborate and create something unique for someone all the way across the country.

Natalie liked my original octopus design, but decided to put her own spin on it, requesting purple and green octopi with a blue and gold background. I found some great iridescent gold paint for the background and accents. These pictures were taken before I applied the glossy sealant, but the gold was still super cool in the finished product.

While I like coming up with my own designs, I think custom work is really where it's at. I'm looking forward to my next custom order. And thanks to Natalie for being an awesome first customer.

So how about it, Pittsburghers--have you been taking advantage of the good weather?

The Retrospect and The Leap

I've never really been one for New Year's resolutions. But I am one for lists. Lists and plans, goals and dreams. And 2012 was pretty full of those on my end.

Beginning in August of last year, I set up a month-by-month plan of what I was going to do for the rest of the year. It was just a quick list jotted into my journal, but I surprised myself by how much I held myself to it. I'm not really one for yearly retrospectives, either, but since it's a brand new year and because this lady asked me to, I suppose I'll talk about it here. (I'm easily persuaded.) 

In August, I vowed to publish my online portfolio. (I didn't actually finish it until December, but at least I started early). September was going to be dedicated to getting this fancy bog of mine back on track (which sort of didn't work, but c'est la vie). October was for painting bicycle helmets, branding my new business, and starting an Etsy shop (done, done, and done). November was for painting more bicycle helmets and attending a yearly conference in New Orleans for my job. And heck, while I'm at it, I lost 10 pounds and finished a Certificate in Digital Media at my university. 

Everything I planned from August to November was in preparation for what I had planned for December. The big one: I resigned from my job. Yup. I took the big leap off the big cliff. I closed my eyes and jumped. For various reasons, it was time for a change, and the stars finally aligned (as they say) in a way that made the jump seem like a good idea. And it was. And it is.

I'll be working until the end of January, but then I'll be off in the free world, searching for the next big thing. I don't know exactly what I'll be doing yet, but I'm hoping that it will include making things. Because that, in the end, is what I love to do. I'm lucky enough to have the support I need to make this change, and it feels so good to finally be going for it. When I'm not terrified over it, I'm filled with enough excitement to burst.

I haven't made a list for 2013 yet, but rest assured that there are plans. There will always be plans. And I'm feeling just the right kind of cheeky optimism in the face of their daunting mass. I'm feeling ready to conquer.

Aren't you?

Headgear, Pt. 2

As a follow up to this post, I'm now getting around to announcing (somewhat belatedly) that I was chosen as a vendor for this year's Handmade Arcade in Pittsburgh.

It was totally crazy. And exciting. I met a ton of incredible people, and I'm looking forward to getting this little business of mine off the ground.

If you're interested in seeing what I've been up to, and what I have for sale, visit my etsy shop at http://www.etsy.com/shop/FerociousOstrich. I have some pre-made sizes available--and you can place a custom order for a different size, or even your own design.

Thanks to everyone who came out to the Arcade--and for making my day a total blast.

Processing

Process 6, by Casey Reas

I'm currently taking a digital imaging class, and we're working with a program called Processing. Has anyone ever worked with it? It's a program that essentially allows an artist to create digital work through the use of code. Images can be static, but the most interesting ones, in my opinion, are the ones that are interactive and full of movement.

So far, I have successfully made some rectangles and circles. And even some weird triangle things. Impressive, I know.

I have a long way to go before I can contend with Casey Reas' work. But I figure that's to be expected, since he is one of the creators of the program.

 Network A, a.k.a. Process 4 (Installation 2), by Casey Reas

Network A [1] from Casey REAS on Vimeo.

His work is really incredible, and I encourage you to poke around his site a bit and see what he's been able to create. I've never been particularly interested in digital images as fine art, but Reas has changed my mind significantly.

Unfortunately for me, this kind of programming requires a level of skill in math that I don't fully have a handle on. I left most of my knowledge about cosines and radians back in my highschool classroom. It would almost be worth cracking open the books again if it meant I could make things like this. Almost.

Also of interest: Rafael Rozendaal's interactive websites. I'm not sure what program (if any) he uses to create them, but they are addicting little bits of awesome. Have fun playing!

Special thanks to Casey Raes for his permission to post images.

Decompression

One of the good things about working in Oakland is my proximity to the Carnegie Museum. I usually remember it when I'm feeling bombarded--and it has never failed to be a sanctuary, even on the toughest of days. When I feel disordered and disheveled and stretched to my limit, the museum provides a space for me to breathe in again. It is ordered and clean and quiet, both cozy and spacious. 

On Friday, I wandered in for one of my lunch-break escapes. I sat on a leather couch in a purple gallery and read about James Abbott McNeill Whistler. I strolled through the blue-walled galleries that house their (familiar) permanent collection. I even ducked into the Natural History section and disappeared into the hall of minerals and gems.

Though I've been to the museum countless times, I always discover something new while I'm there. This time, I was surprised to find myself most attracted to abstract, black-white-and-greyscale paintings hanging in the more modern end of the permanent galleries. They felt expansive: free and open to interpretation.

Detail from Castile (España) by Robert Motherwell, 1952

Detail from Siegfried by Franz Kline, 1958

Detail from Painting, by Antoni Tápies, 1958

Which goes to show that even if the venue is the same, you can always see things with new eyes, every single time you go.

A Change in the Weather

New bed, New wall

New bamboo steamer for...

...steamed chicken buns.

Lavender tea, lavender cookies...lavender everything.

My original headboard project didn't work out the way I planned. I had this grand idea of carving some insulation foam to look like giant doors...which perhaps was a good one, but not one I could properly execute. In the end, I settled for a less-innovative book page treatment--which I ended up loving much more. Sometimes, friends, simple is better.

The neat thing about the book page wall is that, since I am a renter, I still used the sheets of foam. I decoupaged the book pages directly to the foam, and mounted it to the wall. Now not only do I have a statement wall, I have a pin board.

Today the weather changed, and I put on a sweatshirt and filled the house with cinnamon. Everyone on Pinterest is suddenly obsessed with pumpkin everything, and I can't say I blame them. Pumpkin bread, pumpkin soup, pumpkin pancakes...how am I supposed to choose?

Headgear

UPDATE: I'm officially selling helmets at my brandy-new Ferocious Ostrich Etsy shop. Check it out!

When I bought my bike last summer, I decided that I wanted some seriously fun headgear to go with it. I searched around the internet for a while, and then figured I would do what I do best: I'd buy a boring helmet and paint the crap out of it.

I worked without a plan, setting up shop on the coffee table in the living room of the house I rented with two roommates and painting to the sounds of horrible cable television. It was a pet project. And when I was done, I was in love with it.

The idea of painting more helmets and selling them has been brewing in my brain ever since. It's been over a year since I painted my first helmet, and I finally have a second one to add to my repertoire:

 
It's currently up for sale at a fundraising event for my local library. I'm not sure if it will sell, but just putting a price tag on something I've made has made me feel bold. I'm ready to sell these puppies.

But first, I have to get painting.