“Make a rain cape, and an over the shoulder sling bag, and buy a sturdy pair of Keds tennis shoes. Stop at local groceries and pick up Vienna sausages… most everything else to eat you can find beside the trail…and by the way those wild onions are not called “Ramps”… they are “Rampians” … a ramp is an inclined plane.”
Ultralight Backpacking Pioneer/All Around Badass Emma Gatewood on Appalachian Trail gear lists in 1970. Gatewood was the first woman to do the AT solo in one season, and she did it the first time at the age of 67. Because she “thought it would be a nice lark” (“It wasn’t”).
One of the things I get asked most often about by the press is for examples of non-military, non-police use of drones. Part of our function here at DIY Drones is to educate the public about civilian and peaceful uses of drones, so I’m always happy to reel off some examples, from agriculture to Hollywood (aside from the main reason we do it here, which is education and fun).
–from my new favorite website, DIY Drones. I stumbled across this while looking for autogyro-based drones the other day, and now I’ve learned I can just build by own autogyro-based drone!
A Mock-up draft of title page for Xerox Book.
Like Conceptual artists, Siegelaub explored subversive communication methods and mediums in his work and raised important questions about the making, display, ownership, distribution, and sale of art. This exhibition highlights items in The Seth Siegelaub Papers, now in The Museum of Modern Art Archives, that illustrate Siegelaub’s role in empowering artists within the hierarchy of the art world.
“This is the way your leverage lies”: The Seth Siegelaub Papers as Institutional Critique opens today at MOMA.
So the collector is a dissembler, someone whose joy is never unalloyed with anxiety. Because there is always more. Or something better. You must have it because it is one step toward an ideal completing of your collection. But this ideal completion for which every collector hungers for is a delusive goal.
A complete set of something is not the completeness the collector craves. The entire production of some notable dead painter could conceivably, improbably, end up in someone’s palace or cellar or yacht. (Every last canvas? Could you, imperious acquirer, be sure there was not one more?) But even if you could be sure that you had every last item, the satisfaction of having it all would eventually, inevitably, decay. A complete collection is a dead collection. It has no posterity. After having built it, you would love it less each year. Before long, you would want to sell or donate it, and embark on a new chase.
The great collections are vast, not complete. Incomplete : motivated by the desire for completeness. There is always one more.
—The Volcano Lover, Susan Sontag, p. 72