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GREY ISSUE
It’s the end of the first week on Olympia! We are very excited, a little tired, and desperately in need of some refreshment. We (Lydia) thought about consuming more than the gris-amount of champagne, but then she remembered that Babs is pregnant. So today we’re discussing that milder form of exhilaration: TEA! And specifically the Afternoon Tea (with champagne for some). The first in an unpredictable series.
From Artsy to the Walker Art Center, Rhizome to the Tate, digital and digitized collections of art have come a long way. Check out some of our favorite online repositories.
Claude de Burine: "La poésie, c’est un état. Une sorte de vagabondage."
A low key collection of songs for these silvery grey days of ambivalent spring weather and weak sun. A mix like you might've made in high school, as you avoided doing whatever it was you had to do in those days before you graduated: Debussy, Rufus Wainwright, Django Reinhardt, Brian Eno, Liszt and Cat Power and more. Whether in mood or harmony or text, they've all got these grey spring vibes, beneath a cover of cloud.
I daydream practically constantly about finding a glamorous, healthy, and fortifying morning routine -- some magical combination of fiber, sweat-free fitness, and a stunningly faithful commitment to The Artist’s Way (or breakfast as Colette does it, above). Most mornings, I usually just manage a coffee and not to teeter into the brink of depression, which, of course, is still a lot. But I’m convinced I’d probably be a Yoncé, if only I could find something to eat every morning that didn’t make me feel nauseated.
In French the same word for grey means tipsy, buzzed, a little bit drunk. The unlimited space between black and white is sometimes flushed, warm, dizzying, bright. The first glass of champagne (if you’re drinking more than that). The rush of a great height. An intoxicating kiss. Looking up at the undersides of leaves, at the bright spring sky.
