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User Spotlight | Abbey Lee Sarver
One of the most understated elements in Abbey Lee Sarver's art is its consistency. Not only in the sense of a high level of refinement from piece to piece, but also a consistency of composition, an underlying visual logic of saturation and intensity that carries from landscape to collage and everything in between.
Sarver’s collage work is especially outstanding given the sometimes muted impact of the medium. In pulling content from existent sources, there’s often a focal or textural variation from element to element that shows the “seams” of a piece, which is distracting but often unavoidable. In Sarver’s case, there’s no such illusion-breaking irregularity. Instead, everything is perfectly sharp, often loudly lit and dizzyingly cohesive.
And while there’s definitely extravagance and adventure in Sarver’s collage work, her photography is complementarily quiet, often seeming to consciously balance out her collages’ futurist psychedelia with quiet, even somber landscapes and portraits. Abbey Lee Sarver’s work continues to develop a fascinating visual language using media through which genuine novelty is both hard-won and rare.
Check out Abbey Lee’s Flickr feed for more photography, and you can pick up our Expo theme here.
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User Spotlight | Abbey Lee Sarver
One of the most understated elements in Abbey Lee Sarver's art is its consistency. Not only in the sense of a high level of refinement from piece to piece, but also a consistency of composition, an underlying visual logic of saturation and intensity that carries from landscape to collage and everything in between.
Sarver’s collage work is especially outstanding given the sometimes muted impact of the medium. In pulling content from existent sources, there’s often a focal or textural variation from element to element that shows the “seams” of a piece, which is distracting but often unavoidable. In Sarver’s case, there’s no such illusion-breaking irregularity. Instead, everything is perfectly sharp, often loudly lit and dizzyingly cohesive.
And while there’s definitely extravagance and adventure in Sarver’s collage work, her photography is complementarily quiet, often seeming to consciously balance out her collages’ futurist psychedelia with quiet, even somber landscapes and portraits. Abbey Lee Sarver’s work continues to develop a fascinating visual language using media through which genuine novelty is both hard-won and rare.
Check out Abbey Lee’s Flickr feed for more photography, and you can pick up our Expo theme here.
Zoom Info
User Spotlight | Abbey Lee Sarver
One of the most understated elements in Abbey Lee Sarver's art is its consistency. Not only in the sense of a high level of refinement from piece to piece, but also a consistency of composition, an underlying visual logic of saturation and intensity that carries from landscape to collage and everything in between.
Sarver’s collage work is especially outstanding given the sometimes muted impact of the medium. In pulling content from existent sources, there’s often a focal or textural variation from element to element that shows the “seams” of a piece, which is distracting but often unavoidable. In Sarver’s case, there’s no such illusion-breaking irregularity. Instead, everything is perfectly sharp, often loudly lit and dizzyingly cohesive.
And while there’s definitely extravagance and adventure in Sarver’s collage work, her photography is complementarily quiet, often seeming to consciously balance out her collages’ futurist psychedelia with quiet, even somber landscapes and portraits. Abbey Lee Sarver’s work continues to develop a fascinating visual language using media through which genuine novelty is both hard-won and rare.
Check out Abbey Lee’s Flickr feed for more photography, and you can pick up our Expo theme here.
Zoom Info
User Spotlight | Abbey Lee Sarver
One of the most understated elements in Abbey Lee Sarver's art is its consistency. Not only in the sense of a high level of refinement from piece to piece, but also a consistency of composition, an underlying visual logic of saturation and intensity that carries from landscape to collage and everything in between.
Sarver’s collage work is especially outstanding given the sometimes muted impact of the medium. In pulling content from existent sources, there’s often a focal or textural variation from element to element that shows the “seams” of a piece, which is distracting but often unavoidable. In Sarver’s case, there’s no such illusion-breaking irregularity. Instead, everything is perfectly sharp, often loudly lit and dizzyingly cohesive.
And while there’s definitely extravagance and adventure in Sarver’s collage work, her photography is complementarily quiet, often seeming to consciously balance out her collages’ futurist psychedelia with quiet, even somber landscapes and portraits. Abbey Lee Sarver’s work continues to develop a fascinating visual language using media through which genuine novelty is both hard-won and rare.
Check out Abbey Lee’s Flickr feed for more photography, and you can pick up our Expo theme here.
Zoom Info
User Spotlight | Abbey Lee Sarver
One of the most understated elements in Abbey Lee Sarver's art is its consistency. Not only in the sense of a high level of refinement from piece to piece, but also a consistency of composition, an underlying visual logic of saturation and intensity that carries from landscape to collage and everything in between.
Sarver’s collage work is especially outstanding given the sometimes muted impact of the medium. In pulling content from existent sources, there’s often a focal or textural variation from element to element that shows the “seams” of a piece, which is distracting but often unavoidable. In Sarver’s case, there’s no such illusion-breaking irregularity. Instead, everything is perfectly sharp, often loudly lit and dizzyingly cohesive.
And while there’s definitely extravagance and adventure in Sarver’s collage work, her photography is complementarily quiet, often seeming to consciously balance out her collages’ futurist psychedelia with quiet, even somber landscapes and portraits. Abbey Lee Sarver’s work continues to develop a fascinating visual language using media through which genuine novelty is both hard-won and rare.
Check out Abbey Lee’s Flickr feed for more photography, and you can pick up our Expo theme here.
Zoom Info
User Spotlight | Abbey Lee Sarver
One of the most understated elements in Abbey Lee Sarver's art is its consistency. Not only in the sense of a high level of refinement from piece to piece, but also a consistency of composition, an underlying visual logic of saturation and intensity that carries from landscape to collage and everything in between.
Sarver’s collage work is especially outstanding given the sometimes muted impact of the medium. In pulling content from existent sources, there’s often a focal or textural variation from element to element that shows the “seams” of a piece, which is distracting but often unavoidable. In Sarver’s case, there’s no such illusion-breaking irregularity. Instead, everything is perfectly sharp, often loudly lit and dizzyingly cohesive.
And while there’s definitely extravagance and adventure in Sarver’s collage work, her photography is complementarily quiet, often seeming to consciously balance out her collages’ futurist psychedelia with quiet, even somber landscapes and portraits. Abbey Lee Sarver’s work continues to develop a fascinating visual language using media through which genuine novelty is both hard-won and rare.
Check out Abbey Lee’s Flickr feed for more photography, and you can pick up our Expo theme here.
Zoom Info

Posted by:

notfredspears

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44

User Spotlight | Abbey Lee Sarver

One of the most understated elements in Abbey Lee Sarver's art is its consistency. Not only in the sense of a high level of refinement from piece to piece, but also a consistency of composition, an underlying visual logic of saturation and intensity that carries from landscape to collage and everything in between.

Sarver’s collage work is especially outstanding given the sometimes muted impact of the medium. In pulling content from existent sources, there’s often a focal or textural variation from element to element that shows the “seams” of a piece, which is distracting but often unavoidable. In Sarver’s case, there’s no such illusion-breaking irregularity. Instead, everything is perfectly sharp, often loudly lit and dizzyingly cohesive.

And while there’s definitely extravagance and adventure in Sarver’s collage work, her photography is complementarily quiet, often seeming to consciously balance out her collages’ futurist psychedelia with quiet, even somber landscapes and portraits. Abbey Lee Sarver’s work continues to develop a fascinating visual language using media through which genuine novelty is both hard-won and rare.

Check out Abbey Lee’s Flickr feed for more photography, and you can pick up our Expo theme here.

Blogs We Like | Leo Jahaan
For the vast majority of us who aren’t artists, it’s easy to forget how gradually and often oddly most careers in art develop. On Tumblr and most other blogging platforms, we see an endless chain of work, a parade of spectacle with sparse discussion. And that’s good: it “immanentizes” the work, puts it all on the same basic level of presentation, which is a stark contrast to the gallery system’s complex class and accessibility dynamics.
But the assumption that everyone showing mature and complex art online is a merchandised artist with an endless stream of obtainable reproductions is obviously mistaken. I was reminded of this common misperception when I spoke to Leo Jahaan, whose oil painting “Deep Space” (bottom image above) was recently featured in the always-awesome Tumblr Open Arts.
Jahaan’s “research-based [and] diagrammatic” painting is arrestingly unique. It caters to the obsessive and antiquarian, dabbling in anachrony and classically psychedelic colors while utilizing a wide range of subjects from subtle geological detail to puzzling esoteric arrangements. In pieces like “See You Jen” (top above), Jahaan seems focused on the intrinsic visual sublimity of everyday physical reality, reflecting an evolving aesthetic gnosticism. So with all that, of course I wanted to buy a print.
Assuming I simply couldn’t find his store, I sent Leo a message and found out that he’s in the (assuredly intense) process of organizing gallery representation for his work, which currently prevents him from offering prints. Which, in consideration, is a uniquely strange intermediary state. Here’s someone with an increasing wave of attention and momentum, and it’s actually pretty hard to procure his work. Hell, short of throwing money at him, it’s basically impossible to support him in a traditional commodified, consumerist way.
The point? Certainly not a criticism of Jahaan, nor of the (mostly accurate) gallery mindset which so highly values original work. I think the point is rather that, as internet art fans/consumers, we should feel empowered and motivated to think of our role in things as much more social and communal than we often consider it. Or at least it can be, when the well-worn circuit of production-consumption-purchase shorts out.
When, like Leo Jahaan, an artist finds themselves in a very un-commodified state—the ole’ printless limbo, if you will—that’s when it’s most important to simply reach out and be human. Engage the artists you like, and don’t simply Other them into yet another source of consumable culture. Whether you run a curated art blog, attend exhibitions, or just like a picture here and there, you’re part of the “receptive” side of the artist-reception dyad. We’re part of a conversation, and that’s where the best form of exchange happens.
Check out Leo’s main site, Facebook page, and—kinda the point of this whole piece—opt into his email list so you can eventually speak with dollars instead of words.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Leo Jahaan
For the vast majority of us who aren’t artists, it’s easy to forget how gradually and often oddly most careers in art develop. On Tumblr and most other blogging platforms, we see an endless chain of work, a parade of spectacle with sparse discussion. And that’s good: it “immanentizes” the work, puts it all on the same basic level of presentation, which is a stark contrast to the gallery system’s complex class and accessibility dynamics.
But the assumption that everyone showing mature and complex art online is a merchandised artist with an endless stream of obtainable reproductions is obviously mistaken. I was reminded of this common misperception when I spoke to Leo Jahaan, whose oil painting “Deep Space” (bottom image above) was recently featured in the always-awesome Tumblr Open Arts.
Jahaan’s “research-based [and] diagrammatic” painting is arrestingly unique. It caters to the obsessive and antiquarian, dabbling in anachrony and classically psychedelic colors while utilizing a wide range of subjects from subtle geological detail to puzzling esoteric arrangements. In pieces like “See You Jen” (top above), Jahaan seems focused on the intrinsic visual sublimity of everyday physical reality, reflecting an evolving aesthetic gnosticism. So with all that, of course I wanted to buy a print.
Assuming I simply couldn’t find his store, I sent Leo a message and found out that he’s in the (assuredly intense) process of organizing gallery representation for his work, which currently prevents him from offering prints. Which, in consideration, is a uniquely strange intermediary state. Here’s someone with an increasing wave of attention and momentum, and it’s actually pretty hard to procure his work. Hell, short of throwing money at him, it’s basically impossible to support him in a traditional commodified, consumerist way.
The point? Certainly not a criticism of Jahaan, nor of the (mostly accurate) gallery mindset which so highly values original work. I think the point is rather that, as internet art fans/consumers, we should feel empowered and motivated to think of our role in things as much more social and communal than we often consider it. Or at least it can be, when the well-worn circuit of production-consumption-purchase shorts out.
When, like Leo Jahaan, an artist finds themselves in a very un-commodified state—the ole’ printless limbo, if you will—that’s when it’s most important to simply reach out and be human. Engage the artists you like, and don’t simply Other them into yet another source of consumable culture. Whether you run a curated art blog, attend exhibitions, or just like a picture here and there, you’re part of the “receptive” side of the artist-reception dyad. We’re part of a conversation, and that’s where the best form of exchange happens.
Check out Leo’s main site, Facebook page, and—kinda the point of this whole piece—opt into his email list so you can eventually speak with dollars instead of words.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Leo Jahaan
For the vast majority of us who aren’t artists, it’s easy to forget how gradually and often oddly most careers in art develop. On Tumblr and most other blogging platforms, we see an endless chain of work, a parade of spectacle with sparse discussion. And that’s good: it “immanentizes” the work, puts it all on the same basic level of presentation, which is a stark contrast to the gallery system’s complex class and accessibility dynamics.
But the assumption that everyone showing mature and complex art online is a merchandised artist with an endless stream of obtainable reproductions is obviously mistaken. I was reminded of this common misperception when I spoke to Leo Jahaan, whose oil painting “Deep Space” (bottom image above) was recently featured in the always-awesome Tumblr Open Arts.
Jahaan’s “research-based [and] diagrammatic” painting is arrestingly unique. It caters to the obsessive and antiquarian, dabbling in anachrony and classically psychedelic colors while utilizing a wide range of subjects from subtle geological detail to puzzling esoteric arrangements. In pieces like “See You Jen” (top above), Jahaan seems focused on the intrinsic visual sublimity of everyday physical reality, reflecting an evolving aesthetic gnosticism. So with all that, of course I wanted to buy a print.
Assuming I simply couldn’t find his store, I sent Leo a message and found out that he’s in the (assuredly intense) process of organizing gallery representation for his work, which currently prevents him from offering prints. Which, in consideration, is a uniquely strange intermediary state. Here’s someone with an increasing wave of attention and momentum, and it’s actually pretty hard to procure his work. Hell, short of throwing money at him, it’s basically impossible to support him in a traditional commodified, consumerist way.
The point? Certainly not a criticism of Jahaan, nor of the (mostly accurate) gallery mindset which so highly values original work. I think the point is rather that, as internet art fans/consumers, we should feel empowered and motivated to think of our role in things as much more social and communal than we often consider it. Or at least it can be, when the well-worn circuit of production-consumption-purchase shorts out.
When, like Leo Jahaan, an artist finds themselves in a very un-commodified state—the ole’ printless limbo, if you will—that’s when it’s most important to simply reach out and be human. Engage the artists you like, and don’t simply Other them into yet another source of consumable culture. Whether you run a curated art blog, attend exhibitions, or just like a picture here and there, you’re part of the “receptive” side of the artist-reception dyad. We’re part of a conversation, and that’s where the best form of exchange happens.
Check out Leo’s main site, Facebook page, and—kinda the point of this whole piece—opt into his email list so you can eventually speak with dollars instead of words.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Leo Jahaan
For the vast majority of us who aren’t artists, it’s easy to forget how gradually and often oddly most careers in art develop. On Tumblr and most other blogging platforms, we see an endless chain of work, a parade of spectacle with sparse discussion. And that’s good: it “immanentizes” the work, puts it all on the same basic level of presentation, which is a stark contrast to the gallery system’s complex class and accessibility dynamics.
But the assumption that everyone showing mature and complex art online is a merchandised artist with an endless stream of obtainable reproductions is obviously mistaken. I was reminded of this common misperception when I spoke to Leo Jahaan, whose oil painting “Deep Space” (bottom image above) was recently featured in the always-awesome Tumblr Open Arts.
Jahaan’s “research-based [and] diagrammatic” painting is arrestingly unique. It caters to the obsessive and antiquarian, dabbling in anachrony and classically psychedelic colors while utilizing a wide range of subjects from subtle geological detail to puzzling esoteric arrangements. In pieces like “See You Jen” (top above), Jahaan seems focused on the intrinsic visual sublimity of everyday physical reality, reflecting an evolving aesthetic gnosticism. So with all that, of course I wanted to buy a print.
Assuming I simply couldn’t find his store, I sent Leo a message and found out that he’s in the (assuredly intense) process of organizing gallery representation for his work, which currently prevents him from offering prints. Which, in consideration, is a uniquely strange intermediary state. Here’s someone with an increasing wave of attention and momentum, and it’s actually pretty hard to procure his work. Hell, short of throwing money at him, it’s basically impossible to support him in a traditional commodified, consumerist way.
The point? Certainly not a criticism of Jahaan, nor of the (mostly accurate) gallery mindset which so highly values original work. I think the point is rather that, as internet art fans/consumers, we should feel empowered and motivated to think of our role in things as much more social and communal than we often consider it. Or at least it can be, when the well-worn circuit of production-consumption-purchase shorts out.
When, like Leo Jahaan, an artist finds themselves in a very un-commodified state—the ole’ printless limbo, if you will—that’s when it’s most important to simply reach out and be human. Engage the artists you like, and don’t simply Other them into yet another source of consumable culture. Whether you run a curated art blog, attend exhibitions, or just like a picture here and there, you’re part of the “receptive” side of the artist-reception dyad. We’re part of a conversation, and that’s where the best form of exchange happens.
Check out Leo’s main site, Facebook page, and—kinda the point of this whole piece—opt into his email list so you can eventually speak with dollars instead of words.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Leo Jahaan
For the vast majority of us who aren’t artists, it’s easy to forget how gradually and often oddly most careers in art develop. On Tumblr and most other blogging platforms, we see an endless chain of work, a parade of spectacle with sparse discussion. And that’s good: it “immanentizes” the work, puts it all on the same basic level of presentation, which is a stark contrast to the gallery system’s complex class and accessibility dynamics.
But the assumption that everyone showing mature and complex art online is a merchandised artist with an endless stream of obtainable reproductions is obviously mistaken. I was reminded of this common misperception when I spoke to Leo Jahaan, whose oil painting “Deep Space” (bottom image above) was recently featured in the always-awesome Tumblr Open Arts.
Jahaan’s “research-based [and] diagrammatic” painting is arrestingly unique. It caters to the obsessive and antiquarian, dabbling in anachrony and classically psychedelic colors while utilizing a wide range of subjects from subtle geological detail to puzzling esoteric arrangements. In pieces like “See You Jen” (top above), Jahaan seems focused on the intrinsic visual sublimity of everyday physical reality, reflecting an evolving aesthetic gnosticism. So with all that, of course I wanted to buy a print.
Assuming I simply couldn’t find his store, I sent Leo a message and found out that he’s in the (assuredly intense) process of organizing gallery representation for his work, which currently prevents him from offering prints. Which, in consideration, is a uniquely strange intermediary state. Here’s someone with an increasing wave of attention and momentum, and it’s actually pretty hard to procure his work. Hell, short of throwing money at him, it’s basically impossible to support him in a traditional commodified, consumerist way.
The point? Certainly not a criticism of Jahaan, nor of the (mostly accurate) gallery mindset which so highly values original work. I think the point is rather that, as internet art fans/consumers, we should feel empowered and motivated to think of our role in things as much more social and communal than we often consider it. Or at least it can be, when the well-worn circuit of production-consumption-purchase shorts out.
When, like Leo Jahaan, an artist finds themselves in a very un-commodified state—the ole’ printless limbo, if you will—that’s when it’s most important to simply reach out and be human. Engage the artists you like, and don’t simply Other them into yet another source of consumable culture. Whether you run a curated art blog, attend exhibitions, or just like a picture here and there, you’re part of the “receptive” side of the artist-reception dyad. We’re part of a conversation, and that’s where the best form of exchange happens.
Check out Leo’s main site, Facebook page, and—kinda the point of this whole piece—opt into his email list so you can eventually speak with dollars instead of words.
Zoom Info

Posted by:

notfredspears

Visit Tumblr →
11

Blogs We Like | Leo Jahaan

For the vast majority of us who aren’t artists, it’s easy to forget how gradually and often oddly most careers in art develop. On Tumblr and most other blogging platforms, we see an endless chain of work, a parade of spectacle with sparse discussion. And that’s good: it “immanentizes” the work, puts it all on the same basic level of presentation, which is a stark contrast to the gallery system’s complex class and accessibility dynamics.

But the assumption that everyone showing mature and complex art online is a merchandised artist with an endless stream of obtainable reproductions is obviously mistaken. I was reminded of this common misperception when I spoke to Leo Jahaan, whose oil painting “Deep Space” (bottom image above) was recently featured in the always-awesome Tumblr Open Arts.

Jahaan’s “research-based [and] diagrammatic” painting is arrestingly unique. It caters to the obsessive and antiquarian, dabbling in anachrony and classically psychedelic colors while utilizing a wide range of subjects from subtle geological detail to puzzling esoteric arrangements. In pieces like “See You Jen” (top above), Jahaan seems focused on the intrinsic visual sublimity of everyday physical reality, reflecting an evolving aesthetic gnosticism. So with all that, of course I wanted to buy a print.

Assuming I simply couldn’t find his store, I sent Leo a message and found out that he’s in the (assuredly intense) process of organizing gallery representation for his work, which currently prevents him from offering prints. Which, in consideration, is a uniquely strange intermediary state. Here’s someone with an increasing wave of attention and momentum, and it’s actually pretty hard to procure his work. Hell, short of throwing money at him, it’s basically impossible to support him in a traditional commodified, consumerist way.

The point? Certainly not a criticism of Jahaan, nor of the (mostly accurate) gallery mindset which so highly values original work. I think the point is rather that, as internet art fans/consumers, we should feel empowered and motivated to think of our role in things as much more social and communal than we often consider it. Or at least it can be, when the well-worn circuit of production-consumption-purchase shorts out.

When, like Leo Jahaan, an artist finds themselves in a very un-commodified state—the ole’ printless limbo, if you will—that’s when it’s most important to simply reach out and be human. Engage the artists you like, and don’t simply Other them into yet another source of consumable culture. Whether you run a curated art blog, attend exhibitions, or just like a picture here and there, you’re part of the “receptive” side of the artist-reception dyad. We’re part of a conversation, and that’s where the best form of exchange happens.

Check out Leo’s main site, Facebook page, and—kinda the point of this whole piece—opt into his email list so you can eventually speak with dollars instead of words.

Posted by:

boxwithafrown

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Theme Spotlight | Atrium for WordPress

The launch of Atrium marks our fourth WordPress theme release and we’re no longer the new guy or girl on the block. We feel right at home on this powerhouse platform. 

Atrium’s single-channel display houses content within modular sections and sharp lines. Whether you’re sharing a gallery of your sidewalk herb garden, dishing out scathing restaurant reviews or keeping the patrons of your boutique clothing shop updated, Atrium provides a unique space that readers will want to spend some time in.

With room for a logo and header banner display, Atrium can help you achieve the perfect landing page. Spanning the entire browser width, Atrium’s header banner is the boldest display option among our current themes. Did we mention you can upload a video banner?

We’ve also expanded on WordPress’s popular featured image option. Atrium gives featured images a little extra love, prominently displaying them in their own module above your content. Featured videos or galleries get the same treatment, resulting in polished, magazine-quality permalinks every time.

Check out Atrium’s demo here and pick it up for $59

Posted by:

notfredspears

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We’re Hiring Web Developers

Pixel Union is looking for web developers to join our team in Victoria or Vancouver B.C. We’re a small team, dedicated to refining the experience of prefabricated design on the web. We’re as frustrated with the state of theming as you are, and we’re working our butts off to make it better for everyone. We’re looking for core members that want to bring that vision into reality.

What we’re looking for:

  • You need to love what you do and be excited to keep up-to-date with the latest and greatest techniques.
  • The ideal candidate has a solid understanding of core programming concepts, theories and patterns, and the ability to apply the correct ones to a given problem.
  • You aren’t afraid of Coffeescript or Sass. You love HTML5, CSS3, AJAX and jQuery. You’re comfortable with Photoshop and Sketch. 
  • We prefer people who also have experience outside of development so you can bring perspective to your work; an understanding of how real people use technology.

What you’ll be doing:

  • Collaborating closely with other developers and designers building theme products for a variety of platforms (Tumblr, Wordpress, Shopify, Ghost etc.).
  • Managing and refining our back catalogue — squashing bugs, adding features, making the user experience better.
  • Creating tools to make everyone’s, including your own, job easier.

What we offer:

  • Exciting work. The White House, MoMa and Snoop Dog (Snoop Lion?) all use our themes. You’ll be working on products that people know and love.
  • Flexible work. We don’t want you to get burnt out or bored . We’re happy to shuffle you around production lines every now and then to mix things up.
  • Flexible work hours. We all meet at the office between 2 and 4 but otherwise, you set your own work hours. It’s all about maintaining quality and knocking off deadlines.
  • Unlimited vacation time. Let’s be honest: two weeks a year is bullshit. We want you to be doing the best work of your life. That means managing burn out and taking some time to develop yourself culturally.

Send us:

  • A brief introduction without any jargon or cover letter awkwardness.
  • Resume in MS Word or PDF Format. 
  • Work samples.

Send the team an email at people@pixelunion.net. Thanks for reading!

User Spotlight | Gil Riego
By most metrics, Gil Riego's portfolio should've imploded Tumblr by now. His blog reads like an easymode internet bingo card: anime cosplay, renaissance faires, corgis, Miley Cyrus, Fallout Boy, corgis…did I mention corgis? Corgis at the beach, my friends. Corgis at the beach.
What really sets Gil’s work apart from other culture-capturing projects is the overwhelming energy in both image and subject. Riego honed his skills in Pierce College’s journalism program, in which he filled “nearly every position, including photo editor and editor-in-chief for both newspaper and magazine on separate occasions.”
That journalistic foundation translates into an obvious and vivid investment in storytelling. Not in the standard linear sense of stitched narratives, but more in the sense of a poetry, a pastiche of singular points that complement each other without bleeding into a homogenous drone.
What does unite Riego’s many dazzling spectacles, though, is intensity and passion. Whether draped in medieval garb or a glittering weed-otard, the people in Riego’s lens are engaged and excited in the most wonderfully contagious ways.
Gil’s also on Facebook and Twitter, and his main site. You can buy our Kodiak theme here.
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User Spotlight | Gil Riego
By most metrics, Gil Riego's portfolio should've imploded Tumblr by now. His blog reads like an easymode internet bingo card: anime cosplay, renaissance faires, corgis, Miley Cyrus, Fallout Boy, corgis…did I mention corgis? Corgis at the beach, my friends. Corgis at the beach.
What really sets Gil’s work apart from other culture-capturing projects is the overwhelming energy in both image and subject. Riego honed his skills in Pierce College’s journalism program, in which he filled “nearly every position, including photo editor and editor-in-chief for both newspaper and magazine on separate occasions.”
That journalistic foundation translates into an obvious and vivid investment in storytelling. Not in the standard linear sense of stitched narratives, but more in the sense of a poetry, a pastiche of singular points that complement each other without bleeding into a homogenous drone.
What does unite Riego’s many dazzling spectacles, though, is intensity and passion. Whether draped in medieval garb or a glittering weed-otard, the people in Riego’s lens are engaged and excited in the most wonderfully contagious ways.
Gil’s also on Facebook and Twitter, and his main site. You can buy our Kodiak theme here.
Zoom Info
User Spotlight | Gil Riego
By most metrics, Gil Riego's portfolio should've imploded Tumblr by now. His blog reads like an easymode internet bingo card: anime cosplay, renaissance faires, corgis, Miley Cyrus, Fallout Boy, corgis…did I mention corgis? Corgis at the beach, my friends. Corgis at the beach.
What really sets Gil’s work apart from other culture-capturing projects is the overwhelming energy in both image and subject. Riego honed his skills in Pierce College’s journalism program, in which he filled “nearly every position, including photo editor and editor-in-chief for both newspaper and magazine on separate occasions.”
That journalistic foundation translates into an obvious and vivid investment in storytelling. Not in the standard linear sense of stitched narratives, but more in the sense of a poetry, a pastiche of singular points that complement each other without bleeding into a homogenous drone.
What does unite Riego’s many dazzling spectacles, though, is intensity and passion. Whether draped in medieval garb or a glittering weed-otard, the people in Riego’s lens are engaged and excited in the most wonderfully contagious ways.
Gil’s also on Facebook and Twitter, and his main site. You can buy our Kodiak theme here.
Zoom Info
User Spotlight | Gil Riego
By most metrics, Gil Riego's portfolio should've imploded Tumblr by now. His blog reads like an easymode internet bingo card: anime cosplay, renaissance faires, corgis, Miley Cyrus, Fallout Boy, corgis…did I mention corgis? Corgis at the beach, my friends. Corgis at the beach.
What really sets Gil’s work apart from other culture-capturing projects is the overwhelming energy in both image and subject. Riego honed his skills in Pierce College’s journalism program, in which he filled “nearly every position, including photo editor and editor-in-chief for both newspaper and magazine on separate occasions.”
That journalistic foundation translates into an obvious and vivid investment in storytelling. Not in the standard linear sense of stitched narratives, but more in the sense of a poetry, a pastiche of singular points that complement each other without bleeding into a homogenous drone.
What does unite Riego’s many dazzling spectacles, though, is intensity and passion. Whether draped in medieval garb or a glittering weed-otard, the people in Riego’s lens are engaged and excited in the most wonderfully contagious ways.
Gil’s also on Facebook and Twitter, and his main site. You can buy our Kodiak theme here.
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User Spotlight | Gil Riego
By most metrics, Gil Riego's portfolio should've imploded Tumblr by now. His blog reads like an easymode internet bingo card: anime cosplay, renaissance faires, corgis, Miley Cyrus, Fallout Boy, corgis…did I mention corgis? Corgis at the beach, my friends. Corgis at the beach.
What really sets Gil’s work apart from other culture-capturing projects is the overwhelming energy in both image and subject. Riego honed his skills in Pierce College’s journalism program, in which he filled “nearly every position, including photo editor and editor-in-chief for both newspaper and magazine on separate occasions.”
That journalistic foundation translates into an obvious and vivid investment in storytelling. Not in the standard linear sense of stitched narratives, but more in the sense of a poetry, a pastiche of singular points that complement each other without bleeding into a homogenous drone.
What does unite Riego’s many dazzling spectacles, though, is intensity and passion. Whether draped in medieval garb or a glittering weed-otard, the people in Riego’s lens are engaged and excited in the most wonderfully contagious ways.
Gil’s also on Facebook and Twitter, and his main site. You can buy our Kodiak theme here.
Zoom Info
User Spotlight | Gil Riego
By most metrics, Gil Riego's portfolio should've imploded Tumblr by now. His blog reads like an easymode internet bingo card: anime cosplay, renaissance faires, corgis, Miley Cyrus, Fallout Boy, corgis…did I mention corgis? Corgis at the beach, my friends. Corgis at the beach.
What really sets Gil’s work apart from other culture-capturing projects is the overwhelming energy in both image and subject. Riego honed his skills in Pierce College’s journalism program, in which he filled “nearly every position, including photo editor and editor-in-chief for both newspaper and magazine on separate occasions.”
That journalistic foundation translates into an obvious and vivid investment in storytelling. Not in the standard linear sense of stitched narratives, but more in the sense of a poetry, a pastiche of singular points that complement each other without bleeding into a homogenous drone.
What does unite Riego’s many dazzling spectacles, though, is intensity and passion. Whether draped in medieval garb or a glittering weed-otard, the people in Riego’s lens are engaged and excited in the most wonderfully contagious ways.
Gil’s also on Facebook and Twitter, and his main site. You can buy our Kodiak theme here.
Zoom Info
User Spotlight | Gil Riego
By most metrics, Gil Riego's portfolio should've imploded Tumblr by now. His blog reads like an easymode internet bingo card: anime cosplay, renaissance faires, corgis, Miley Cyrus, Fallout Boy, corgis…did I mention corgis? Corgis at the beach, my friends. Corgis at the beach.
What really sets Gil’s work apart from other culture-capturing projects is the overwhelming energy in both image and subject. Riego honed his skills in Pierce College’s journalism program, in which he filled “nearly every position, including photo editor and editor-in-chief for both newspaper and magazine on separate occasions.”
That journalistic foundation translates into an obvious and vivid investment in storytelling. Not in the standard linear sense of stitched narratives, but more in the sense of a poetry, a pastiche of singular points that complement each other without bleeding into a homogenous drone.
What does unite Riego’s many dazzling spectacles, though, is intensity and passion. Whether draped in medieval garb or a glittering weed-otard, the people in Riego’s lens are engaged and excited in the most wonderfully contagious ways.
Gil’s also on Facebook and Twitter, and his main site. You can buy our Kodiak theme here.
Zoom Info

Posted by:

notfredspears

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16

User Spotlight | Gil Riego

By most metrics, Gil Riego's portfolio should've imploded Tumblr by now. His blog reads like an easymode internet bingo card: anime cosplay, renaissance faires, corgis, Miley Cyrus, Fallout Boy, corgis…did I mention corgis? Corgis at the beach, my friends. Corgis at the beach.

What really sets Gil’s work apart from other culture-capturing projects is the overwhelming energy in both image and subject. Riego honed his skills in Pierce College’s journalism program, in which he filled “nearly every position, including photo editor and editor-in-chief for both newspaper and magazine on separate occasions.”

That journalistic foundation translates into an obvious and vivid investment in storytelling. Not in the standard linear sense of stitched narratives, but more in the sense of a poetry, a pastiche of singular points that complement each other without bleeding into a homogenous drone.

What does unite Riego’s many dazzling spectacles, though, is intensity and passion. Whether draped in medieval garb or a glittering weed-otard, the people in Riego’s lens are engaged and excited in the most wonderfully contagious ways.

Gil’s also on Facebook and Twitter, and his main site. You can buy our Kodiak theme here.

Posted by:

liams

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19

We’re Hiring: Web Developers

Pixel Union is looking for web developers to join our team in Victoria or Vancouver B.C. We’re a small team, dedicated to refining the experience of prefabricated design on the web. We’re as frustrated with the state of theming as you are, and we’re working our butts off to make it better for everyone. We’re looking for core members that want to bring that vision into reality.

What we’re looking for:

  • You need to love what you do and be excited to keep up-to-date with the latest and greatest techniques.
  • The ideal candidate has a solid understanding of core programming concepts, theories and patterns, and the ability to apply the correct ones to a given problem.
  • You aren’t afraid of Coffeescript or Sass. You love HTML5, CSS3, AJAX and jQuery. You’re comfortable with Photoshop and Sketch. 
  • We prefer people who also have experience outside of development so you can bring perspective to your work; an understanding of how real people use technology.

What you’ll be doing:

  • Collaborating closely with other developers and designers building theme products for a variety of platforms (Tumblr, Wordpress, Shopify, Ghost etc.).
  • Managing and refining our back catalogue — squashing bugs, adding features, making the user experience better.
  • Creating tools to make everyone’s, including your own, job easier.

What we offer:

  • Exciting work. The White House, MoMa and Snoop Dog (Snoop Lion?) all use our themes. You’ll be working on products that people know and love.
  • Flexible work. We don’t want you to get burnt out or bored . We’re happy to shuffle you around production lines every now and then to mix things up.
  • Flexible work hours. We all meet at the office between 2 and 4 but otherwise, you set your own work hours. It’s all about maintaining quality and knocking off deadlines.
  • Unlimited vacation time. Let’s be honest: two weeks a year is bullshit. We want you to be doing the best work of your life. That means managing burn out and taking some time to develop yourself culturally.

Send us:

  • A brief introduction without any jargon or cover letter awkwardness.
  • Resume in MS Word or PDF Format. 
  • Work samples.

Send the team an email at people@pixelunion.net. Thanks for reading!

Blogs We Like | Ball and Cone
The phrase “philosophical comic” is not terribly appealing. I say this as someone who’s spent a lot of time with both philosophy and comics, and within the context of a group of people who take art fairly seriously. Philosophy readily intervenes into (and feeds off of) visual art, but despite a long history of commingling, comics’ rendezvous with philosophy still often remain awkward or overdetermined.
Why does Ken Johnson’s Ball and Cone succeed where so much else has failed? For one, Ball and Cone nearly completely avoids engagement with language and formal philosophical thoughts/concepts—an odd detail considering its author is an art reviewer for the New York Times. Instead, Ball and Cone’s philosophical content is immanent, meaning it’s contained wholly within the manifest reality of the images. It’s more philosophically fertile than it is expositional or instructional, which is a remarkably difficult state to achieve with one color and a lot of empty space.
By this point, I’m sure some nagging neural cluster is tingling, grumbling that Hegelian dialectics are about the last thing suggested by anthropmorphic geometry. But as Johnson notes in an absolutely wonderful interview with the equally wonderful Claire Donner:

The ideas animating Ball and Cone that interest me most come less out of art than out of philosophy, in which seeing is a huge topic. The relationship between what we see – or, what we think we see – and what mind-independent reality might be like has been endlessly pondered by thinkers from Descartes to Derrida and beyond. For Aristotle, a basic feature of human consciousness is a capacity for wonder and a drive to understand, which we satisfy much of the time by looking at the world and, metaphorically, looking inward. Most of the time, it seems to me, Ball and Cone are looking as if they’re just wondering what is going on in any given situation. They just want to understand.

That clarity of will is what makes the comic’s protagonists so undeniably empathetic. In their obvious and eternal search for understanding, they’re simply doing philosophy. And in gazing at their gazes (a profundity upon which Donner rightly seizes in her interview), we’re forced into a remarkably unique and even more perplexing philosophical position, one that’s symbiotically stitched into the comic’s eternal state of flux and becoming.
You can email Ken for a Ball and Cone book (details in his blog’s sidebar), and check out his (slightly) more traditional book on psychedelic art, “Are You Experienced: How Psychedelic Consciousness Transformed Modern Art” here.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Ball and Cone
The phrase “philosophical comic” is not terribly appealing. I say this as someone who’s spent a lot of time with both philosophy and comics, and within the context of a group of people who take art fairly seriously. Philosophy readily intervenes into (and feeds off of) visual art, but despite a long history of commingling, comics’ rendezvous with philosophy still often remain awkward or overdetermined.
Why does Ken Johnson’s Ball and Cone succeed where so much else has failed? For one, Ball and Cone nearly completely avoids engagement with language and formal philosophical thoughts/concepts—an odd detail considering its author is an art reviewer for the New York Times. Instead, Ball and Cone’s philosophical content is immanent, meaning it’s contained wholly within the manifest reality of the images. It’s more philosophically fertile than it is expositional or instructional, which is a remarkably difficult state to achieve with one color and a lot of empty space.
By this point, I’m sure some nagging neural cluster is tingling, grumbling that Hegelian dialectics are about the last thing suggested by anthropmorphic geometry. But as Johnson notes in an absolutely wonderful interview with the equally wonderful Claire Donner:

The ideas animating Ball and Cone that interest me most come less out of art than out of philosophy, in which seeing is a huge topic. The relationship between what we see – or, what we think we see – and what mind-independent reality might be like has been endlessly pondered by thinkers from Descartes to Derrida and beyond. For Aristotle, a basic feature of human consciousness is a capacity for wonder and a drive to understand, which we satisfy much of the time by looking at the world and, metaphorically, looking inward. Most of the time, it seems to me, Ball and Cone are looking as if they’re just wondering what is going on in any given situation. They just want to understand.

That clarity of will is what makes the comic’s protagonists so undeniably empathetic. In their obvious and eternal search for understanding, they’re simply doing philosophy. And in gazing at their gazes (a profundity upon which Donner rightly seizes in her interview), we’re forced into a remarkably unique and even more perplexing philosophical position, one that’s symbiotically stitched into the comic’s eternal state of flux and becoming.
You can email Ken for a Ball and Cone book (details in his blog’s sidebar), and check out his (slightly) more traditional book on psychedelic art, “Are You Experienced: How Psychedelic Consciousness Transformed Modern Art” here.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Ball and Cone
The phrase “philosophical comic” is not terribly appealing. I say this as someone who’s spent a lot of time with both philosophy and comics, and within the context of a group of people who take art fairly seriously. Philosophy readily intervenes into (and feeds off of) visual art, but despite a long history of commingling, comics’ rendezvous with philosophy still often remain awkward or overdetermined.
Why does Ken Johnson’s Ball and Cone succeed where so much else has failed? For one, Ball and Cone nearly completely avoids engagement with language and formal philosophical thoughts/concepts—an odd detail considering its author is an art reviewer for the New York Times. Instead, Ball and Cone’s philosophical content is immanent, meaning it’s contained wholly within the manifest reality of the images. It’s more philosophically fertile than it is expositional or instructional, which is a remarkably difficult state to achieve with one color and a lot of empty space.
By this point, I’m sure some nagging neural cluster is tingling, grumbling that Hegelian dialectics are about the last thing suggested by anthropmorphic geometry. But as Johnson notes in an absolutely wonderful interview with the equally wonderful Claire Donner:

The ideas animating Ball and Cone that interest me most come less out of art than out of philosophy, in which seeing is a huge topic. The relationship between what we see – or, what we think we see – and what mind-independent reality might be like has been endlessly pondered by thinkers from Descartes to Derrida and beyond. For Aristotle, a basic feature of human consciousness is a capacity for wonder and a drive to understand, which we satisfy much of the time by looking at the world and, metaphorically, looking inward. Most of the time, it seems to me, Ball and Cone are looking as if they’re just wondering what is going on in any given situation. They just want to understand.

That clarity of will is what makes the comic’s protagonists so undeniably empathetic. In their obvious and eternal search for understanding, they’re simply doing philosophy. And in gazing at their gazes (a profundity upon which Donner rightly seizes in her interview), we’re forced into a remarkably unique and even more perplexing philosophical position, one that’s symbiotically stitched into the comic’s eternal state of flux and becoming.
You can email Ken for a Ball and Cone book (details in his blog’s sidebar), and check out his (slightly) more traditional book on psychedelic art, “Are You Experienced: How Psychedelic Consciousness Transformed Modern Art” here.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Ball and Cone
The phrase “philosophical comic” is not terribly appealing. I say this as someone who’s spent a lot of time with both philosophy and comics, and within the context of a group of people who take art fairly seriously. Philosophy readily intervenes into (and feeds off of) visual art, but despite a long history of commingling, comics’ rendezvous with philosophy still often remain awkward or overdetermined.
Why does Ken Johnson’s Ball and Cone succeed where so much else has failed? For one, Ball and Cone nearly completely avoids engagement with language and formal philosophical thoughts/concepts—an odd detail considering its author is an art reviewer for the New York Times. Instead, Ball and Cone’s philosophical content is immanent, meaning it’s contained wholly within the manifest reality of the images. It’s more philosophically fertile than it is expositional or instructional, which is a remarkably difficult state to achieve with one color and a lot of empty space.
By this point, I’m sure some nagging neural cluster is tingling, grumbling that Hegelian dialectics are about the last thing suggested by anthropmorphic geometry. But as Johnson notes in an absolutely wonderful interview with the equally wonderful Claire Donner:

The ideas animating Ball and Cone that interest me most come less out of art than out of philosophy, in which seeing is a huge topic. The relationship between what we see – or, what we think we see – and what mind-independent reality might be like has been endlessly pondered by thinkers from Descartes to Derrida and beyond. For Aristotle, a basic feature of human consciousness is a capacity for wonder and a drive to understand, which we satisfy much of the time by looking at the world and, metaphorically, looking inward. Most of the time, it seems to me, Ball and Cone are looking as if they’re just wondering what is going on in any given situation. They just want to understand.

That clarity of will is what makes the comic’s protagonists so undeniably empathetic. In their obvious and eternal search for understanding, they’re simply doing philosophy. And in gazing at their gazes (a profundity upon which Donner rightly seizes in her interview), we’re forced into a remarkably unique and even more perplexing philosophical position, one that’s symbiotically stitched into the comic’s eternal state of flux and becoming.
You can email Ken for a Ball and Cone book (details in his blog’s sidebar), and check out his (slightly) more traditional book on psychedelic art, “Are You Experienced: How Psychedelic Consciousness Transformed Modern Art” here.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Ball and Cone
The phrase “philosophical comic” is not terribly appealing. I say this as someone who’s spent a lot of time with both philosophy and comics, and within the context of a group of people who take art fairly seriously. Philosophy readily intervenes into (and feeds off of) visual art, but despite a long history of commingling, comics’ rendezvous with philosophy still often remain awkward or overdetermined.
Why does Ken Johnson’s Ball and Cone succeed where so much else has failed? For one, Ball and Cone nearly completely avoids engagement with language and formal philosophical thoughts/concepts—an odd detail considering its author is an art reviewer for the New York Times. Instead, Ball and Cone’s philosophical content is immanent, meaning it’s contained wholly within the manifest reality of the images. It’s more philosophically fertile than it is expositional or instructional, which is a remarkably difficult state to achieve with one color and a lot of empty space.
By this point, I’m sure some nagging neural cluster is tingling, grumbling that Hegelian dialectics are about the last thing suggested by anthropmorphic geometry. But as Johnson notes in an absolutely wonderful interview with the equally wonderful Claire Donner:

The ideas animating Ball and Cone that interest me most come less out of art than out of philosophy, in which seeing is a huge topic. The relationship between what we see – or, what we think we see – and what mind-independent reality might be like has been endlessly pondered by thinkers from Descartes to Derrida and beyond. For Aristotle, a basic feature of human consciousness is a capacity for wonder and a drive to understand, which we satisfy much of the time by looking at the world and, metaphorically, looking inward. Most of the time, it seems to me, Ball and Cone are looking as if they’re just wondering what is going on in any given situation. They just want to understand.

That clarity of will is what makes the comic’s protagonists so undeniably empathetic. In their obvious and eternal search for understanding, they’re simply doing philosophy. And in gazing at their gazes (a profundity upon which Donner rightly seizes in her interview), we’re forced into a remarkably unique and even more perplexing philosophical position, one that’s symbiotically stitched into the comic’s eternal state of flux and becoming.
You can email Ken for a Ball and Cone book (details in his blog’s sidebar), and check out his (slightly) more traditional book on psychedelic art, “Are You Experienced: How Psychedelic Consciousness Transformed Modern Art” here.
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notfredspears

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Blogs We Like | Ball and Cone

The phrase “philosophical comic” is not terribly appealing. I say this as someone who’s spent a lot of time with both philosophy and comics, and within the context of a group of people who take art fairly seriously. Philosophy readily intervenes into (and feeds off of) visual art, but despite a long history of commingling, comics’ rendezvous with philosophy still often remain awkward or overdetermined.

Why does Ken Johnson’s Ball and Cone succeed where so much else has failed? For one, Ball and Cone nearly completely avoids engagement with language and formal philosophical thoughts/concepts—an odd detail considering its author is an art reviewer for the New York Times. Instead, Ball and Cone’s philosophical content is immanent, meaning it’s contained wholly within the manifest reality of the images. It’s more philosophically fertile than it is expositional or instructional, which is a remarkably difficult state to achieve with one color and a lot of empty space.

By this point, I’m sure some nagging neural cluster is tingling, grumbling that Hegelian dialectics are about the last thing suggested by anthropmorphic geometry. But as Johnson notes in an absolutely wonderful interview with the equally wonderful Claire Donner:

The ideas animating Ball and Cone that interest me most come less out of art than out of philosophy, in which seeing is a huge topic. The relationship between what we see – or, what we think we see – and what mind-independent reality might be like has been endlessly pondered by thinkers from Descartes to Derrida and beyond. For Aristotle, a basic feature of human consciousness is a capacity for wonder and a drive to understand, which we satisfy much of the time by looking at the world and, metaphorically, looking inward. Most of the time, it seems to me, Ball and Cone are looking as if they’re just wondering what is going on in any given situation. They just want to understand.

That clarity of will is what makes the comic’s protagonists so undeniably empathetic. In their obvious and eternal search for understanding, they’re simply doing philosophy. And in gazing at their gazes (a profundity upon which Donner rightly seizes in her interview), we’re forced into a remarkably unique and even more perplexing philosophical position, one that’s symbiotically stitched into the comic’s eternal state of flux and becoming.

You can email Ken for a Ball and Cone book (details in his blog’s sidebar), and check out his (slightly) more traditional book on psychedelic art, “Are You Experienced: How Psychedelic Consciousness Transformed Modern Art” here.

Blogs We Like | Fly Art
Fly Art hits my Tumblr sweet spot, fusing distinct forms of artistic expression into easy-to-digest cultural nuggets. 
Fly Art have tapped into a generic style with major popularity. Basic white font over art already deemed “good.” 
I’d assume consumers initially appreciate Fly Art for the lyrics or the paintings, eventually viewing the images as a whole, instead of two layers. It’s comforting that consumers— consume seems apt given hip hop’s penance for indulgent lifestyles—can experience art and music as one, but I don’t believe that’s why Fly Art has gained traction. 
Sure, not any lyric will fit with any painting, but I found myself thoroughly engrossed in images where I recognized neither the song or the painter. While that may sound like criticism, it’s not. (Promise!) The pool of people with equal knowledge of Matisse and Childish Gambino has a limit. 
Fly Art has fans and press attention because they’ve made something new-ish. Tumblr constantly recycles old content and showcases new work, but the median of that content spectrum still satisfies me. 
Concluding this post with some artful hip hop:
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Fly Art
Fly Art hits my Tumblr sweet spot, fusing distinct forms of artistic expression into easy-to-digest cultural nuggets. 
Fly Art have tapped into a generic style with major popularity. Basic white font over art already deemed “good.” 
I’d assume consumers initially appreciate Fly Art for the lyrics or the paintings, eventually viewing the images as a whole, instead of two layers. It’s comforting that consumers— consume seems apt given hip hop’s penance for indulgent lifestyles—can experience art and music as one, but I don’t believe that’s why Fly Art has gained traction. 
Sure, not any lyric will fit with any painting, but I found myself thoroughly engrossed in images where I recognized neither the song or the painter. While that may sound like criticism, it’s not. (Promise!) The pool of people with equal knowledge of Matisse and Childish Gambino has a limit. 
Fly Art has fans and press attention because they’ve made something new-ish. Tumblr constantly recycles old content and showcases new work, but the median of that content spectrum still satisfies me. 
Concluding this post with some artful hip hop:
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Fly Art
Fly Art hits my Tumblr sweet spot, fusing distinct forms of artistic expression into easy-to-digest cultural nuggets. 
Fly Art have tapped into a generic style with major popularity. Basic white font over art already deemed “good.” 
I’d assume consumers initially appreciate Fly Art for the lyrics or the paintings, eventually viewing the images as a whole, instead of two layers. It’s comforting that consumers— consume seems apt given hip hop’s penance for indulgent lifestyles—can experience art and music as one, but I don’t believe that’s why Fly Art has gained traction. 
Sure, not any lyric will fit with any painting, but I found myself thoroughly engrossed in images where I recognized neither the song or the painter. While that may sound like criticism, it’s not. (Promise!) The pool of people with equal knowledge of Matisse and Childish Gambino has a limit. 
Fly Art has fans and press attention because they’ve made something new-ish. Tumblr constantly recycles old content and showcases new work, but the median of that content spectrum still satisfies me. 
Concluding this post with some artful hip hop:
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Fly Art
Fly Art hits my Tumblr sweet spot, fusing distinct forms of artistic expression into easy-to-digest cultural nuggets. 
Fly Art have tapped into a generic style with major popularity. Basic white font over art already deemed “good.” 
I’d assume consumers initially appreciate Fly Art for the lyrics or the paintings, eventually viewing the images as a whole, instead of two layers. It’s comforting that consumers— consume seems apt given hip hop’s penance for indulgent lifestyles—can experience art and music as one, but I don’t believe that’s why Fly Art has gained traction. 
Sure, not any lyric will fit with any painting, but I found myself thoroughly engrossed in images where I recognized neither the song or the painter. While that may sound like criticism, it’s not. (Promise!) The pool of people with equal knowledge of Matisse and Childish Gambino has a limit. 
Fly Art has fans and press attention because they’ve made something new-ish. Tumblr constantly recycles old content and showcases new work, but the median of that content spectrum still satisfies me. 
Concluding this post with some artful hip hop:
Zoom Info

Posted by:

boxwithafrown

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87

Blogs We Like | Fly Art

Fly Art hits my Tumblr sweet spot, fusing distinct forms of artistic expression into easy-to-digest cultural nuggets. 

Fly Art have tapped into a generic style with major popularity. Basic white font over art already deemed “good.” 

I’d assume consumers initially appreciate Fly Art for the lyrics or the paintings, eventually viewing the images as a whole, instead of two layers. It’s comforting that consumers— consume seems apt given hip hop’s penance for indulgent lifestyles—can experience art and music as one, but I don’t believe that’s why Fly Art has gained traction. 

Sure, not any lyric will fit with any painting, but I found myself thoroughly engrossed in images where I recognized neither the song or the painter. While that may sound like criticism, it’s not. (Promise!) The pool of people with equal knowledge of Matisse and Childish Gambino has a limit. 

Fly Art has fans and press attention because they’ve made something new-ish. Tumblr constantly recycles old content and showcases new work, but the median of that content spectrum still satisfies me. 

Concluding this post with some artful hip hop:

Blogs We Like | The Last American Indian on Earth
Way back when we interviewed the mods of Black Contemporary Art, we made a point to not add a steaming pile of white commentary. Why? It’s not because white people “aren’t allowed” to have opinions or thoughts on non-white art. Rather, it’s because the reception of virtually all North American art is vastly overdetermined by white interpreters, and also because art made from a specific ethnic/cultural perspective is often better explained by people with at least some direct experience within said specific perspective.
Following that axiom, I’d like to let Gregg Deal, an “artist, a husband, a father and a member of the Pyramid Lake Paiute Tribe,” explain his ongoing work in The Last American Indian on Earth:

This project is a performance art piece. I will be wearing traditional Native American clothing in various, everyday scenarios interacting with the public which will create interesting, thought-provoking, and even comical situations where the public will be forced to look at me, as a stereotypical Native person, and what I’m doing, and question what they are watching.
How will they react if they saw me, a Native dressed in buckskin and a headdress, doing something as mundane as shopping for cereal at the grocery store? How would they react if they saw me eating Chinese food in China Town or taking pictures of buffalo at the National Zoo? How would they react if they saw me waiting in a Metro station or were riding in the same Metro car?
The performances will include a number of things that are simple, mundane, funny, political, over the top, satirical, ironic and even sad. (via)

One point of particular interest is Gregg’s invocation of stereotype, which enhances and complicates the sense of confrontation intrinsic to the project. The hundreds of native tribes in the US have obviously produced huge, diverse bodies of clothing and ornament, but Deal chooses one in particular. Why?

The Plains image is chosen explicitly because its ad nauseam reimagination, replication, and dissemination positions it as the ONLY legitimate iteration of Indianness and thereby obscures both our diversity and contemporaneity. How do I know this? Because this work is grounded in solid research on the health impacts of historic trauma and microaggression in the lives of Native people. And because the artist consistently fact checks and also asks me, a Shawnee woman and applied medical anthropologist, about how this plays. (via kiksuyapo)

Deal’s project has certainly triggered (forced?) dialogue about indigenous genocides, appropriation, and assimilation in the US, both in person and online, making it one of the most effective and impactful long-form art performances in recent memory. Kerry Hawk Lessard’s commentary on this image alone is one of the most inspiring gems of art interpretation/exegesis I’ve read in months, and it’s gratefully only one of many truly illuminating thoughts to grow from Deal’s project. Whether a particular instance/event is crass, subtle, funny, or tragic, Deal’s project is vital, intense, and wholly necessary.
Follow the Last Indian Twitter and Facebook pages, and check out Gregg’s main site too.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | The Last American Indian on Earth
Way back when we interviewed the mods of Black Contemporary Art, we made a point to not add a steaming pile of white commentary. Why? It’s not because white people “aren’t allowed” to have opinions or thoughts on non-white art. Rather, it’s because the reception of virtually all North American art is vastly overdetermined by white interpreters, and also because art made from a specific ethnic/cultural perspective is often better explained by people with at least some direct experience within said specific perspective.
Following that axiom, I’d like to let Gregg Deal, an “artist, a husband, a father and a member of the Pyramid Lake Paiute Tribe,” explain his ongoing work in The Last American Indian on Earth:

This project is a performance art piece. I will be wearing traditional Native American clothing in various, everyday scenarios interacting with the public which will create interesting, thought-provoking, and even comical situations where the public will be forced to look at me, as a stereotypical Native person, and what I’m doing, and question what they are watching.
How will they react if they saw me, a Native dressed in buckskin and a headdress, doing something as mundane as shopping for cereal at the grocery store? How would they react if they saw me eating Chinese food in China Town or taking pictures of buffalo at the National Zoo? How would they react if they saw me waiting in a Metro station or were riding in the same Metro car?
The performances will include a number of things that are simple, mundane, funny, political, over the top, satirical, ironic and even sad. (via)

One point of particular interest is Gregg’s invocation of stereotype, which enhances and complicates the sense of confrontation intrinsic to the project. The hundreds of native tribes in the US have obviously produced huge, diverse bodies of clothing and ornament, but Deal chooses one in particular. Why?

The Plains image is chosen explicitly because its ad nauseam reimagination, replication, and dissemination positions it as the ONLY legitimate iteration of Indianness and thereby obscures both our diversity and contemporaneity. How do I know this? Because this work is grounded in solid research on the health impacts of historic trauma and microaggression in the lives of Native people. And because the artist consistently fact checks and also asks me, a Shawnee woman and applied medical anthropologist, about how this plays. (via kiksuyapo)

Deal’s project has certainly triggered (forced?) dialogue about indigenous genocides, appropriation, and assimilation in the US, both in person and online, making it one of the most effective and impactful long-form art performances in recent memory. Kerry Hawk Lessard’s commentary on this image alone is one of the most inspiring gems of art interpretation/exegesis I’ve read in months, and it’s gratefully only one of many truly illuminating thoughts to grow from Deal’s project. Whether a particular instance/event is crass, subtle, funny, or tragic, Deal’s project is vital, intense, and wholly necessary.
Follow the Last Indian Twitter and Facebook pages, and check out Gregg’s main site too.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | The Last American Indian on Earth
Way back when we interviewed the mods of Black Contemporary Art, we made a point to not add a steaming pile of white commentary. Why? It’s not because white people “aren’t allowed” to have opinions or thoughts on non-white art. Rather, it’s because the reception of virtually all North American art is vastly overdetermined by white interpreters, and also because art made from a specific ethnic/cultural perspective is often better explained by people with at least some direct experience within said specific perspective.
Following that axiom, I’d like to let Gregg Deal, an “artist, a husband, a father and a member of the Pyramid Lake Paiute Tribe,” explain his ongoing work in The Last American Indian on Earth:

This project is a performance art piece. I will be wearing traditional Native American clothing in various, everyday scenarios interacting with the public which will create interesting, thought-provoking, and even comical situations where the public will be forced to look at me, as a stereotypical Native person, and what I’m doing, and question what they are watching.
How will they react if they saw me, a Native dressed in buckskin and a headdress, doing something as mundane as shopping for cereal at the grocery store? How would they react if they saw me eating Chinese food in China Town or taking pictures of buffalo at the National Zoo? How would they react if they saw me waiting in a Metro station or were riding in the same Metro car?
The performances will include a number of things that are simple, mundane, funny, political, over the top, satirical, ironic and even sad. (via)

One point of particular interest is Gregg’s invocation of stereotype, which enhances and complicates the sense of confrontation intrinsic to the project. The hundreds of native tribes in the US have obviously produced huge, diverse bodies of clothing and ornament, but Deal chooses one in particular. Why?

The Plains image is chosen explicitly because its ad nauseam reimagination, replication, and dissemination positions it as the ONLY legitimate iteration of Indianness and thereby obscures both our diversity and contemporaneity. How do I know this? Because this work is grounded in solid research on the health impacts of historic trauma and microaggression in the lives of Native people. And because the artist consistently fact checks and also asks me, a Shawnee woman and applied medical anthropologist, about how this plays. (via kiksuyapo)

Deal’s project has certainly triggered (forced?) dialogue about indigenous genocides, appropriation, and assimilation in the US, both in person and online, making it one of the most effective and impactful long-form art performances in recent memory. Kerry Hawk Lessard’s commentary on this image alone is one of the most inspiring gems of art interpretation/exegesis I’ve read in months, and it’s gratefully only one of many truly illuminating thoughts to grow from Deal’s project. Whether a particular instance/event is crass, subtle, funny, or tragic, Deal’s project is vital, intense, and wholly necessary.
Follow the Last Indian Twitter and Facebook pages, and check out Gregg’s main site too.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | The Last American Indian on Earth
Way back when we interviewed the mods of Black Contemporary Art, we made a point to not add a steaming pile of white commentary. Why? It’s not because white people “aren’t allowed” to have opinions or thoughts on non-white art. Rather, it’s because the reception of virtually all North American art is vastly overdetermined by white interpreters, and also because art made from a specific ethnic/cultural perspective is often better explained by people with at least some direct experience within said specific perspective.
Following that axiom, I’d like to let Gregg Deal, an “artist, a husband, a father and a member of the Pyramid Lake Paiute Tribe,” explain his ongoing work in The Last American Indian on Earth:

This project is a performance art piece. I will be wearing traditional Native American clothing in various, everyday scenarios interacting with the public which will create interesting, thought-provoking, and even comical situations where the public will be forced to look at me, as a stereotypical Native person, and what I’m doing, and question what they are watching.
How will they react if they saw me, a Native dressed in buckskin and a headdress, doing something as mundane as shopping for cereal at the grocery store? How would they react if they saw me eating Chinese food in China Town or taking pictures of buffalo at the National Zoo? How would they react if they saw me waiting in a Metro station or were riding in the same Metro car?
The performances will include a number of things that are simple, mundane, funny, political, over the top, satirical, ironic and even sad. (via)

One point of particular interest is Gregg’s invocation of stereotype, which enhances and complicates the sense of confrontation intrinsic to the project. The hundreds of native tribes in the US have obviously produced huge, diverse bodies of clothing and ornament, but Deal chooses one in particular. Why?

The Plains image is chosen explicitly because its ad nauseam reimagination, replication, and dissemination positions it as the ONLY legitimate iteration of Indianness and thereby obscures both our diversity and contemporaneity. How do I know this? Because this work is grounded in solid research on the health impacts of historic trauma and microaggression in the lives of Native people. And because the artist consistently fact checks and also asks me, a Shawnee woman and applied medical anthropologist, about how this plays. (via kiksuyapo)

Deal’s project has certainly triggered (forced?) dialogue about indigenous genocides, appropriation, and assimilation in the US, both in person and online, making it one of the most effective and impactful long-form art performances in recent memory. Kerry Hawk Lessard’s commentary on this image alone is one of the most inspiring gems of art interpretation/exegesis I’ve read in months, and it’s gratefully only one of many truly illuminating thoughts to grow from Deal’s project. Whether a particular instance/event is crass, subtle, funny, or tragic, Deal’s project is vital, intense, and wholly necessary.
Follow the Last Indian Twitter and Facebook pages, and check out Gregg’s main site too.
Zoom Info

Posted by:

notfredspears

Visit Tumblr →
73

Blogs We Like | The Last American Indian on Earth

Way back when we interviewed the mods of Black Contemporary Art, we made a point to not add a steaming pile of white commentary. Why? It’s not because white people “aren’t allowed” to have opinions or thoughts on non-white art. Rather, it’s because the reception of virtually all North American art is vastly overdetermined by white interpreters, and also because art made from a specific ethnic/cultural perspective is often better explained by people with at least some direct experience within said specific perspective.

Following that axiom, I’d like to let Gregg Deal, an “artist, a husband, a father and a member of the Pyramid Lake Paiute Tribe,” explain his ongoing work in The Last American Indian on Earth:

This project is a performance art piece. I will be wearing traditional Native American clothing in various, everyday scenarios interacting with the public which will create interesting, thought-provoking, and even comical situations where the public will be forced to look at me, as a stereotypical Native person, and what I’m doing, and question what they are watching.

How will they react if they saw me, a Native dressed in buckskin and a headdress, doing something as mundane as shopping for cereal at the grocery store? How would they react if they saw me eating Chinese food in China Town or taking pictures of buffalo at the National Zoo? How would they react if they saw me waiting in a Metro station or were riding in the same Metro car?

The performances will include a number of things that are simple, mundane, funny, political, over the top, satirical, ironic and even sad. (via)

One point of particular interest is Gregg’s invocation of stereotype, which enhances and complicates the sense of confrontation intrinsic to the project. The hundreds of native tribes in the US have obviously produced huge, diverse bodies of clothing and ornament, but Deal chooses one in particular. Why?

The Plains image is chosen explicitly because its ad nauseam reimagination, replication, and dissemination positions it as the ONLY legitimate iteration of Indianness and thereby obscures both our diversity and contemporaneity. How do I know this? Because this work is grounded in solid research on the health impacts of historic trauma and microaggression in the lives of Native people. And because the artist consistently fact checks and also asks me, a Shawnee woman and applied medical anthropologist, about how this plays. (via kiksuyapo)

Deal’s project has certainly triggered (forced?) dialogue about indigenous genocides, appropriation, and assimilation in the US, both in person and online, making it one of the most effective and impactful long-form art performances in recent memory. Kerry Hawk Lessard’s commentary on this image alone is one of the most inspiring gems of art interpretation/exegesis I’ve read in months, and it’s gratefully only one of many truly illuminating thoughts to grow from Deal’s project. Whether a particular instance/event is crass, subtle, funny, or tragic, Deal’s project is vital, intense, and wholly necessary.

Follow the Last Indian Twitter and Facebook pages, and check out Gregg’s main site too.

Blogs We Like | Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle 
Metaphors come in many sizes. There are small or limited metaphors, like Charles Kane’s sled or Garfield’s lasagnas (a.k.a. feelings). And there are vast, multi-dimensional metaphors like Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle:

Animal Battle is a visualization of our internal struggle to bring ideas and dreams to life against our most powerful enemies: Fear and Doubt. The Eyes + Hands army symbolizes our physical self, while Hearts + Stars represents the mental: passion, courage, & imagination. Together they lead Ideas out of our subconscious and protect them on a journey through our mind into Reality.

Like the best big-concept projects, Hoggatt’s is mobilized with subtlety, each character appearing simultaneously at peace and primed for engagement. The metaphor of creative struggle finds a perfect face in each actor, both in their 2-D illustrative iterations and truly stunning sculpted manifestations—all crafted not only with immense and obvious skill, but laden with a singular depth of meaning and feeling.
Hoggatt’s battle is more indicative of a near-eternal dialectic than an archetypal bloody war, then, and its world is (as a result) much more engrossing, surprising, and unique. In fact, one of the most overwhelmingly impressive aspects of Hoggatt’s project is its balance of clear rendering and suggestiveness, with each element tracing an identity but also creating an opening for the viewer’s imagination to go even further.
Maryanna will be showing Animal Battle at her first solo show at Hellion Gallery in Portland, opening August 7th at 6pm. You can also find her on Twitter, her WP blog, and shop.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle 
Metaphors come in many sizes. There are small or limited metaphors, like Charles Kane’s sled or Garfield’s lasagnas (a.k.a. feelings). And there are vast, multi-dimensional metaphors like Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle:

Animal Battle is a visualization of our internal struggle to bring ideas and dreams to life against our most powerful enemies: Fear and Doubt. The Eyes + Hands army symbolizes our physical self, while Hearts + Stars represents the mental: passion, courage, & imagination. Together they lead Ideas out of our subconscious and protect them on a journey through our mind into Reality.

Like the best big-concept projects, Hoggatt’s is mobilized with subtlety, each character appearing simultaneously at peace and primed for engagement. The metaphor of creative struggle finds a perfect face in each actor, both in their 2-D illustrative iterations and truly stunning sculpted manifestations—all crafted not only with immense and obvious skill, but laden with a singular depth of meaning and feeling.
Hoggatt’s battle is more indicative of a near-eternal dialectic than an archetypal bloody war, then, and its world is (as a result) much more engrossing, surprising, and unique. In fact, one of the most overwhelmingly impressive aspects of Hoggatt’s project is its balance of clear rendering and suggestiveness, with each element tracing an identity but also creating an opening for the viewer’s imagination to go even further.
Maryanna will be showing Animal Battle at her first solo show at Hellion Gallery in Portland, opening August 7th at 6pm. You can also find her on Twitter, her WP blog, and shop.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle 
Metaphors come in many sizes. There are small or limited metaphors, like Charles Kane’s sled or Garfield’s lasagnas (a.k.a. feelings). And there are vast, multi-dimensional metaphors like Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle:

Animal Battle is a visualization of our internal struggle to bring ideas and dreams to life against our most powerful enemies: Fear and Doubt. The Eyes + Hands army symbolizes our physical self, while Hearts + Stars represents the mental: passion, courage, & imagination. Together they lead Ideas out of our subconscious and protect them on a journey through our mind into Reality.

Like the best big-concept projects, Hoggatt’s is mobilized with subtlety, each character appearing simultaneously at peace and primed for engagement. The metaphor of creative struggle finds a perfect face in each actor, both in their 2-D illustrative iterations and truly stunning sculpted manifestations—all crafted not only with immense and obvious skill, but laden with a singular depth of meaning and feeling.
Hoggatt’s battle is more indicative of a near-eternal dialectic than an archetypal bloody war, then, and its world is (as a result) much more engrossing, surprising, and unique. In fact, one of the most overwhelmingly impressive aspects of Hoggatt’s project is its balance of clear rendering and suggestiveness, with each element tracing an identity but also creating an opening for the viewer’s imagination to go even further.
Maryanna will be showing Animal Battle at her first solo show at Hellion Gallery in Portland, opening August 7th at 6pm. You can also find her on Twitter, her WP blog, and shop.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle 
Metaphors come in many sizes. There are small or limited metaphors, like Charles Kane’s sled or Garfield’s lasagnas (a.k.a. feelings). And there are vast, multi-dimensional metaphors like Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle:

Animal Battle is a visualization of our internal struggle to bring ideas and dreams to life against our most powerful enemies: Fear and Doubt. The Eyes + Hands army symbolizes our physical self, while Hearts + Stars represents the mental: passion, courage, & imagination. Together they lead Ideas out of our subconscious and protect them on a journey through our mind into Reality.

Like the best big-concept projects, Hoggatt’s is mobilized with subtlety, each character appearing simultaneously at peace and primed for engagement. The metaphor of creative struggle finds a perfect face in each actor, both in their 2-D illustrative iterations and truly stunning sculpted manifestations—all crafted not only with immense and obvious skill, but laden with a singular depth of meaning and feeling.
Hoggatt’s battle is more indicative of a near-eternal dialectic than an archetypal bloody war, then, and its world is (as a result) much more engrossing, surprising, and unique. In fact, one of the most overwhelmingly impressive aspects of Hoggatt’s project is its balance of clear rendering and suggestiveness, with each element tracing an identity but also creating an opening for the viewer’s imagination to go even further.
Maryanna will be showing Animal Battle at her first solo show at Hellion Gallery in Portland, opening August 7th at 6pm. You can also find her on Twitter, her WP blog, and shop.
Zoom Info
Blogs We Like | Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle 
Metaphors come in many sizes. There are small or limited metaphors, like Charles Kane’s sled or Garfield’s lasagnas (a.k.a. feelings). And there are vast, multi-dimensional metaphors like Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle:

Animal Battle is a visualization of our internal struggle to bring ideas and dreams to life against our most powerful enemies: Fear and Doubt. The Eyes + Hands army symbolizes our physical self, while Hearts + Stars represents the mental: passion, courage, & imagination. Together they lead Ideas out of our subconscious and protect them on a journey through our mind into Reality.

Like the best big-concept projects, Hoggatt’s is mobilized with subtlety, each character appearing simultaneously at peace and primed for engagement. The metaphor of creative struggle finds a perfect face in each actor, both in their 2-D illustrative iterations and truly stunning sculpted manifestations—all crafted not only with immense and obvious skill, but laden with a singular depth of meaning and feeling.
Hoggatt’s battle is more indicative of a near-eternal dialectic than an archetypal bloody war, then, and its world is (as a result) much more engrossing, surprising, and unique. In fact, one of the most overwhelmingly impressive aspects of Hoggatt’s project is its balance of clear rendering and suggestiveness, with each element tracing an identity but also creating an opening for the viewer’s imagination to go even further.
Maryanna will be showing Animal Battle at her first solo show at Hellion Gallery in Portland, opening August 7th at 6pm. You can also find her on Twitter, her WP blog, and shop.
Zoom Info

Posted by:

notfredspears

Visit Tumblr →
30

Blogs We Like | Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle

Metaphors come in many sizes. There are small or limited metaphors, like Charles Kane’s sled or Garfield’s lasagnas (a.k.a. feelings). And there are vast, multi-dimensional metaphors like Maryanna Hoggatt’s Animal Battle:

Animal Battle is a visualization of our internal struggle to bring ideas and dreams to life against our most powerful enemies: Fear and Doubt. The Eyes + Hands army symbolizes our physical self, while Hearts + Stars represents the mental: passion, courage, & imagination. Together they lead Ideas out of our subconscious and protect them on a journey through our mind into Reality.

Like the best big-concept projects, Hoggatt’s is mobilized with subtlety, each character appearing simultaneously at peace and primed for engagement. The metaphor of creative struggle finds a perfect face in each actor, both in their 2-D illustrative iterations and truly stunning sculpted manifestations—all crafted not only with immense and obvious skill, but laden with a singular depth of meaning and feeling.

Hoggatt’s battle is more indicative of a near-eternal dialectic than an archetypal bloody war, then, and its world is (as a result) much more engrossing, surprising, and unique. In fact, one of the most overwhelmingly impressive aspects of Hoggatt’s project is its balance of clear rendering and suggestiveness, with each element tracing an identity but also creating an opening for the viewer’s imagination to go even further.

Maryanna will be showing Animal Battle at her first solo show at Hellion Gallery in Portland, opening August 7th at 6pm. You can also find her on Twitter, her WP blog, and shop.