I just found the beautiful work of Svenja Deininger. Along with Landon Metz, she's my latest art crush.


This article on the Privileged Poor in an Australian publication could have been written about the US as well. I know what real poverty looks like, but also related to many of the outcries of middle class "poor" mentioned in the article. It's a confusing, pressured time that we are living in.


Victoria Wagner's stunning painted redwood rocks. I also love her artist's statement that begins with, "I must have been around seven years old when I heard that my uncle could float." I am reminded once again about how the stories that we tell our children can shape their lives.


I loved this post by Kristen Gregg on Marginamia, on coincidence, appropriateness, ordinary events. So beautifully felt and expressed. I know exactly what you mean.

And I woke early this morning wanting to write about this string of ordinary events, linked only by their meaning to one woman. But I didn't. I thought it better to post about something more appropriate to the reaches of this blog, to take my intense need to write this post and channel it into an appropriate subject. But I don't want to write the appropriate post. And I haven't for a while, so I end up posting nothing. writing nothing. stuck. What I want is to write this post, nonsensical and meaningless as it may be for others, indulgent as it may be for me. It's what I need to share. It's what is honest and all consuming. ...

A good mother's day gift for me? This

Uta Barth book

 and this

Christopher Wool

book. Or maybe a trip to Sephora.

Cheers to the mothers. xx