When we moved back to the Lower East Side back in July, this was one of the first photos I took. I saw this small-ish rodent (rat) on Division Street, on my way into the depths of Chinatown. He looked rather peaceful. And while I know this is a picture of a dead rodent, I love all the geometry going on here. I have had encounters of this sort before. See here.
Box of plastic gloves found in my mother’s attic. They were most likely my step-father’s. Pretty sure they pre-date my mother. Each glove is affixed to a sheet of what looks like butcher paper. Strange and graphic. Subtle variations in color and shape, not to mention the odd hand shape, add to their intrigue. I may frame them all together. And…Sensi-Touch appears to still be going strong when it comes to the manufacturing of surgical gloves.
I came upon this box of wooden eyeglass models when going through my mother’s house. The pieces were stacked on end, so it wasn’t immediately obvious what they were. Holy crap!!! What a crazy wonderful surprise. Howard G. Jones, my stepfather, was an industrial designer who was born in 1910. He knew how to do things the old fashioned way, and these treasures are perfect examples of his world of analog design.
Years ago, 1997 to be precise, my husband and I rented a tiny cottage for 2 weeks in Canada, on Campobello Island. The island is best known for playing host to the Roosevelts. Specifically Franklin and Eleanor. On the eastern shore of the island, there is a picturesque little beach called Herring Cove. It was here that, in 1921, after swimming in the icy sea, FDR was (erroneously) thought to have contracted the polio virus. Cold water and presidents aside, what Herring Cove should really be known for, is its rocks. The fine specimens pictured above were all collected at the beach. Something about the tides and the geographic location of the inlet tumbles the rocks to a softness that seems nearly impossible.
These Swedish handmade metal combs are indestructible. Each tooth is individually hand machined out of high grade aluminum. No burrs, no frizz. And they meet the magic standard of a once in a lifetime purchase. I have had these two combs for at least 25 years, if not longer. And it was really only today that I noticed their extreme precision and good looks. I mean look at those radius corners! And then speaking of trademarks (yesterday’s post), Swedish Crown Combs was granted registration in 1968 and let it lapse in 2008. Which is really too bad, because these are very fine tools indeed. I think these are the same combs, but I can’t be certain.
I think my mother wrote shorthand. I remember her scrawling, at a breathless pace, what appeared to be unintelligible marks on stenographers paper. It was gibberish then, and it is gibberish now. But stunning in its economy and gesture. These two pages are a perfect example of Pitman Shorthand, popular in the UK, and second only to Gregg Shorthand in the US. Gregg Shorthand is far less compelling, and even a little boring, because of the uniform thickness of the line. For more information on the Pitman method, go here. Images from here.
I’ve made no secret of my love for the cigarette card collection at the NY Public Library. Here is a single painting broken into 45 parts. Click here to see the who and the what.