As any Harry Potter fan knows, the Golden Snitch is magical winged orb used in the flying broomstick game of Quidditch. In the book Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry wins a Quidditch match by catching the Golden Snitch in his mouth. This papercraft version of the Snitch was designed by UK papercrafter Mark Green (a.k.a. paperart) as a gift for his nephew. The template, which includes a display stand, is available here.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Harry Potter Papercraft - Golden Snitch
As any Harry Potter fan knows, the Golden Snitch is magical winged orb used in the flying broomstick game of Quidditch. In the book Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry wins a Quidditch match by catching the Golden Snitch in his mouth. This papercraft version of the Snitch was designed by UK papercrafter Mark Green (a.k.a. paperart) as a gift for his nephew. The template, which includes a display stand, is available here.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Of the daemon
I am not a person particularly given to metaphysical beliefs.
I tend to be cautious in the way I describe the world, and the parts where I allow myself to travel further are, in my perspective, mere mental experiments, or even tricks of the (artistic) trade.
Yet I wish I could simply apply Elizabeth Gilbert's advice and speak out to whatever is out there, negociating with me what comes to my mind.
It's not an easy task. The skepticism rushes in, and I am reminded by myself that, after all, it all remains a metaphor, and although I might be producing things I myself do not expect (that seems to be the rule), I do not know how my heart functions, either, or why I start to sweat or how I fall asleep. The more carefuly I look at myself, the less of what I do can be divided into conscious and unconscious activity. Ergo, I can assume creativity is also somewhere within that quasi-conscious reign that to me should appear no more familiar, or "mine", than yawning.
But, deep down inside, I am also a dreamer. I love to think I'm lucky. I like pretty formulas, and feel very precisely how sometimes things go right. There you have it: here is an opening for metaphysics. If I am so easily tempted to create all these invisible structures, strings and forces, why can't I accept the simple idea that there is someone, something, a daemon, that negociates with me everything I do? Why, for heaven's sake, not accept something that makes your life easier? For the sake of truth? In art?
Bear's Little Sister Nita

© Team Husar Wildlife PhotographyNothing makes me happier than a stunning photograph to play with. This little girl is Bear's new little sister. We did Bear years ago, and then we did another portrait of Bear and then another. Now we have a new Golden Retriever from the Husar household to play with. Nita is just as cute as can be. We love this original photo. When shooting your own pup remember that sticks, balls, and fluffy toys can add a fun and playful mood to your portrait.
Lisa e-mailed me this info about her sweet new puppy:
"Our new golden girl was born on Jan. 5th and came home with us for good at the end of February. Continuing with the ursine theme, we named her Nita, which means “little bear” in the Choctaw Indian language. As you might guess, she is a little bundle of energy, curiosity and mischief, and has been keeping me quite busy lately. It took big brother Bear a while to adjust to losing his “only child” status, but now he is on-board and is doing really well."
Monday, May 18, 2009
The Abstraction Game: Myra Mimlitsch-Gray

The problem with abstraction is that a subjective voyage into the unknown is precisely this: subjective. And, since the exceptional quality of my experience as the creator is something distinct from the experience of the spectator, the abstraction game becomes a hide-and-seek of subjectivities, a challenge which at any moment can be called a bluff, a mere ego trip. Thus, whenever the artist moves into abstraction, whenever we receive less (of the visible image of the visible), we find ourselves in a position of risk - the risk of losing track, of losing sight of anything that rings a bell.
It is a risk we have learned to enjoy. It is a risk justified by the way our historically-bound senses receive the world, and well-defended by an astonishing number of passionate theories.
Still, I look with envy at the art lovers who find abstraction as natural as air.
Most of the time, I find it easier to discover new worlds in a stone than in an abstract sculpture.
Yet there are artists who manage to create paths that lead from the world of re-cognition, of everyday objects and images and tastes, of the mimetic pleasures of re-production, to the very limits of abstract forms.
One such artist is Myra Mimlitsch-Gray.
Take a simple object:
The effect of melting does not seem to challenge the object as such. It asks for fruit as loudly as any classic salver does. Nonetheless, it moves us towards a world where the concrete is, well, not so concrete after all:
Here we have a candelabrum, which is hardly a candelabrum any more. It has melted like a candle, apparently contradicting its main function: to withstand melting. Welcome back to the magnificent world of semiotic undoing, and sensual games with the intellect.Too entropic for you? Why don't you try something more positive, then? Sugar and cream, anyone?
The sugar bowl is the negative of its own shape, as is the creamer... or is it that none of them actually has the shape? What are they, after all, these shapes that are to be useful, that are to serve, as if their being objects were not good enough? What is left of the representation, of the concrete, once we put it to challenge in its very heart?Let's move back to the first picture now. The title of the work is Trunk Sections, and it is made in cast iron. A tree made of iron. Or is it a mold of a tree? (What a strange idea: a mold of a tree!) Or just a part of their trunk? And why do they seem so... wooden? What, then is the matter with them? They are like ghosts, representing something we presume might have been here, but made of another stuff, another material, another essence, defying the way we see the objectness of the object.
We can, of course, go back to seeing them as just a few pieces of iron cast and assembled to create an abstract sculpture, like so many others.
The question is: with this delicious introduction, why would we refuse the voyage?
Myra Mimlitsch-Gray has an exhibition on until June 27 at the Wexler Gallery in Philadelphia, and you can read an insightful text about her work by by David Revere McFadden here.
Star Trek Papercraft - Mini Phaser Rifle
For being Jonathan Sheppard's first attempt at papercraft design, I think he did an excellent job. This 8" (20 cm) long papercraft phaser rifle was modeled after the version of the weapon that appears in the video game Star Trek Voyager: Elite Force and the movie Star Trek: First Contact. A PDF template of the rifle is available from Sheppard's deviantArt page here. I have been itching to try my hand at creating some papercraft from 3D models ripped from video games and since I do have a copy of Elite Force... be on the lookout for some Star Trek papercraft of my own in coming weeks.
Concept ships by Hunt Dougherty
Mosaic Monday New Artist
The text above is exquisite. Love the grey spots on the coat too.
From Sun Dog Mosaics over at Flickr
Turning that 2nd "o" into a halo is very clever. Great Boston Terrier art!
I think the Basset Hound above is one of her best pieces, the movement in the fabric is so stunning. The eyes are amazing too. She even got the pink on the droopy under the eye part just right. This amount of detail in mosaics is always fun to see.
I love this gal's artwork. Her domain seems to be expired for some reason, but I was able to view her site via the wayback machine and discovered that this talented woman is Donna Van Hooser, and she worked for 20 years at Hallmark designing cards for kids. Donna is an animal lover that has been making mosaics for the past 18 years. Check Sun Dog Mosaics out at Flickr!
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