Ever noticed that cities look better in the rain? They do. Not as many people, softer light, nice reflections (especially if you happen to have cobbelstones). I took a lot of good pictures of Rome on rainy days when I first arrived, and now that the rain has stopped, the tourists have begun to swarm I kind of miss it.Tuesday, March 6, 2007
No longer only happy when it rains
Ever noticed that cities look better in the rain? They do. Not as many people, softer light, nice reflections (especially if you happen to have cobbelstones). I took a lot of good pictures of Rome on rainy days when I first arrived, and now that the rain has stopped, the tourists have begun to swarm I kind of miss it.
Friday, March 2, 2007
Seeing things
So as part of my dissertation research I'm going through various early books and letters describing the oddities of the natural world in Southeast Asia. The current one is particularly cool -- it's a printed book from about 1700 in which the author has collected material from various other books, letters, and treatises (and when I say collected, I mean plagiarized). He then had them illustrated and printed and sold them as a sort of coffee table book for polite society. The analogy is pretty good actually, since coffee had just been introduced to Europe and this is probably just the sort of thing that you would discuss at your local coffee house.
Some of the illustrations in this book particularly cool:
I mean, eagles with moustaches and tropical birds with teeth?!
Clearly what happened is that a set of field sketches were delivered the printer who had to have the illustrations cut into metal plates for printing. The artist in charge of this was apparently a little confused by what he was seeing, and just changed things around so that they looked better. Thus, the dead mouse in the eagle's mouth becomes a moustache and the...well I don't know why the toucan has giant teeth.
Still not convinced, check this out:
Our engraver gets a drawing of a monkey with its young clinging it. It doesn't look like the little guy has a very good grip, so the artist helpfully tied him on with a piece of vine. I think the mother's expression says it all.
Some of the illustrations in this book particularly cool:
I mean, eagles with moustaches and tropical birds with teeth?!
Clearly what happened is that a set of field sketches were delivered the printer who had to have the illustrations cut into metal plates for printing. The artist in charge of this was apparently a little confused by what he was seeing, and just changed things around so that they looked better. Thus, the dead mouse in the eagle's mouth becomes a moustache and the...well I don't know why the toucan has giant teeth.
Still not convinced, check this out:
Our engraver gets a drawing of a monkey with its young clinging it. It doesn't look like the little guy has a very good grip, so the artist helpfully tied him on with a piece of vine. I think the mother's expression says it all.
Toast
When I was in second grade, the Food Pyramid was still gospel. At one point, we had to draw and illustrate a menu for a day that had the proper number of all of the daily requirements.
Now, keep in mind that my ideal of a balanced meal at this point was probably alternating peanut butter and honey sandwiches with my peanut butter and jellies. Turns out that you actually needed to eat a lot of “bread group,” and I was running out of new starches to slip into my menu, so I figured that you could just eat two slices of toast with breakfast instead of one.
My teacher didn’t think so. No, she said, that had to be different things – a single tater tot on the side of your lunch would do the trick, but apparently not another slice of bread in the same sitting.
So, I went back my desk and did my best to draw “n” pieces of breakfast toast. I was only 7, so n=19, which is still a lot of toast to draw with a crayon.
Skip ahead 20+ years: Amelia and I had a dinner party last weekend, and one of the leftovers was a half a round of Roman bread a foot and a half wide. So, for breakfast the next morning, I had a single piece of toast eighteen inches long and an inch think. Only one serving of bread though -- take that Ms. Dalton.
Now, keep in mind that my ideal of a balanced meal at this point was probably alternating peanut butter and honey sandwiches with my peanut butter and jellies. Turns out that you actually needed to eat a lot of “bread group,” and I was running out of new starches to slip into my menu, so I figured that you could just eat two slices of toast with breakfast instead of one.
My teacher didn’t think so. No, she said, that had to be different things – a single tater tot on the side of your lunch would do the trick, but apparently not another slice of bread in the same sitting.
So, I went back my desk and did my best to draw “n” pieces of breakfast toast. I was only 7, so n=19, which is still a lot of toast to draw with a crayon.
Skip ahead 20+ years: Amelia and I had a dinner party last weekend, and one of the leftovers was a half a round of Roman bread a foot and a half wide. So, for breakfast the next morning, I had a single piece of toast eighteen inches long and an inch think. Only one serving of bread though -- take that Ms. Dalton.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)