Dear Son

Dear Son,

Just a few words on the eve of your great adventure for which you have trained yourself and anticipated for so long — to let you know that we all share it with you, vicariously.

As I think I remarked to you at the outset of the space program, you are privileged to share in a pioneering project on a grand scale — in fact the grandest scale yet known to man. And I venture to predict that after all the huzzas have been uttered and the public acclaim is but a memory, you will derive the greatest satisfaction from the serene knowledge that you have discovered new truths. You can say to yourself: this I saw, this I experienced, this I know to be the truth. This experience is a precious thing; it is known to all researchers, in whatever field of endeavour, who have ventured into the unknown and have discovered new truths.

You are probably aware that I am not a particularly religious person, at least in the sense of embracing any of the numerous formal doctrines. Yet I cannot conceive of a man endowed with intellect, perceiving the ordered universe about him, the glory of the mountain top, the plumage of a tropical bird, the intricate complexity of a protein molecule, the utter and unchanging perfection of a salt crystal, who can deny the existence of some higher power. Whether he chooses to call it God or Mohammed or Buddha or Torquoise Woman or the Law of Probability matters little. I find myself in my writings frequently calling upon Mother Nature to explain things and citing Her as responsible for the order of the universe. She is a very satisfactory divinity for me. And so I shall call upon Her to watch over you and guard you and, if she so desires, share with you some of Her secrets which She is usually so ready to share with those who have high purpose.

With all my love,
Dad

In 1962, Malcolm Scott Carpenter became just the second American to orbit the Earth. On the eve of this historic journey, his father, Marion, proudly wrote him [this] letter. - Letters of Note

On Sunsets

Alessandro Puccinelli

Devastatingly beautiful photography that feels so incredibly rich when the colors are obviously anything but. I want this dude to direct a film, pronto. Personally, I feel like the more domestic shots are really intense; As you'll see, he has a close relationship with the ocean and its many forms, so seeing the way he captures fabric is unreal. More of Alessandro Puccinelli.

Via yewknee.

Realtree? More Like Hammerpress

Realtree - The Making of a Tradition from MAMMOTH on Vimeo.

Un-freaking believable. We know all I love them, and that they make me homesick as hell. So the whole thing is supposed to be a branding piece for Realtree, but really...  it's about showcasing fellow Kansas City Art Institute graduate Brady Vest and his fine craftsmanship at Hammerpress. It's pure Kansas City porn! Oooh, do enjoy.

"That girl was made to destroy men."

Brigitte Bardot is a grade-A floozy seducing men, tanning naked and running around barefoot. French life in a port city, puh. And God Created Woman, it's—well... pretty.

I didn't realize this actually happens

Never thought I'd get the opportunity to say, "Someone put my car on blocks." Just lucky, I guess. I feel violated and embarrassed, especially after my insurance company added insult to injury by telling me I'd have to pay for my own tow if I wanted it taken to a shop before Monday—it's Friday, so it's just sitting there for everyone to laugh at. Way to be, insurance company.

Internet K-Hole

Complete and utter retro nonsense with no sources credited, explanation or order. Like thumbing through an abandoned album of wayside NSFW and bizarre candid memories. I'm strangely attracted to the way this whole thing is put together—partial blame can fall on my assumption that it's a commentary on what we're loosing in a digital age. In a time when Tumblr is king, this stockpile of uncurated ugly and uncomfortable is refreshing.

Writer's Routines

David Lynch:

For seven years in the 1980s he ate lunch at Bob’s Big Boy every day, which consisted of cup after cup of coffee and a single chocolate milkshake while scribbling notes on Bob’s napkins. He arrived at Bob’s at precisely 2:30 p.m. each day. The reason: “If you go earlier, at lunchtime, they’re making a lot of chocolate milkshakes. The mixture has to cool in a machine, but if it doesn’t sit in there long enough, it’s runny,” he said. “At 2:30, you’ve got a chance for it to be just great."

Only three perfect milkshakes out of more than 2,500.
 “The coffee and the sugar would really get me going. And I would try to catch ideas.” (He doesn’t eat sugar anymore). Mapped out, at least in part, on Bob’s napkins—was Blue Velvet.

Via Writer's Routine from thecityofabsurdity.com.

On Art: Clement Greenberg

Animation from Judith Shimer.

"Your son, the vegetarian."

Four-star, Netflix gamble turns into a B-movie dark comedy with surprisingly good cinematography. Directed by Bob Balaban better known for his acting career, Parents isn't much of a departure from his other work: The Twilight Zone episodes, My Boyfriend's Back and much of Eerie, Indiana. Definitely entertaining if you're into that kind of 8os kitsch thing, like us. Bottom line, don't force feed kids; They might kill you for it.

Resolution List, or lack thereof

I didn't make myself a New Year's resolution. What can I say—I've never been very successful limiting myself; Instead, I choose to live in "moderation" or with the 80/20 mentality that if I eat well, choose good, and act appropriately 80% of the time then I can afford to be a little less kept the other 20%. For lack of my own list, here's Woody Guthrie's from Lists of Note.

"As 1941 drew to a close, the great Woody Guthrie sat and drew up an illustrated list of 33 resolutions for the following year, 1942. The charming result of his efforts, entitled 'New Year's Rulin's,' can be enjoyed below."

Personal favorites (might even piggie-back on these):

• Learn people better,
• Don't get lonesome,
• Keep hoping machine running,
• Have company, but don't waste time,
• Love everybody,
• Make up your mind,
• Wake up and fight.

Hey, 2012.

We've established our first official couple tradition, and that is to find the nearest photo booth on New Year's and freeze the last moments of the year in film. Also, I've been working on a bit of freelance lately so the Graphic Artist's Guild Handbook: Pricing & Ethical Guidelines has been sitting on the coffee table this month. Fun, fun, fun stuff! Cheers.