A Mere Moment: Audrey Kawasaki

I've long been captivated by the work of pop surrealist darling Audrey Kawasaki. Her lithe and doe-eyed lovelies are both moving in their childish innocence and disquieting in their subtle eroticism.

Mia and Mai, 2006
I read an interview that quotes her as saying, "I paint them because they are distant, elusive, and unobtainable, and slip right through your hands. They are something I chase after, and that I grasp onto for a mere moment, and am forced to let go, and that is what keeps me painting."

Two Sisters, 2008
I love that description of the moment of connection between artist and muse. I love that she paints the girls on wood and uses the grain in the image, which gives them a lovely organic feel, and that she tends to pale and washed out colors, like faded vintage ephemera.

Yasuragi, 2007
It's the juxtaposition of opposites in her work that's most enchanting to me, and I especially love it when remnants of the natural world slip in ~ bones, feathers, sea creatures.

Umi no Yami no Jyoou, 2007
And the blush of swirling-haired art nouveau brings to mind echoes of another of my favorite artists, Alphonse Mucha, or the waves and flower-petals of Hokusai.

Mizuame, 2007
And look... tentacles, just for me.

Octogirls, 2006
You can immerse yourself in Audrey's exquisite world at her Web site, and keep up with her via her LiveJournal blog.

Oughta Be in Pictures

I'm swooning with anticipation about my first collaboration with a photographer other than my love Stache (though I do adore his photography). I've just sent off my brand new Sirene design to Lexie, proprietress of Lex Machina Photography (formerly BrainWreck), after being floored by her newest work on Flickr.

This set of images reminds me of some of the brilliant Kate O'Brien's more painterly work, like her "I Spy" photo I've always adored. I'm giddy with Lexie's treatment of these, the richly saturated but understated tones that give them that vintage feel.

Truly, how could I not be enamoured of someone with a a bio that reads like this: "motor-hobo transient photographer and comic nerd of the steampunk persuasion"? It seems Lexie travels around the country full-time in an RV with her soulmate, Emmy, the dashing subject of this stunning image.

This whole tale appeals to me tremendously... although I do love to travel, I am a home-body at heart, and so that kind of nomadic lifestyle is something I can only admire from afar.

And now, the waiting... sigh.

Within Your Rights to Bite...

If you haven't seen the Swedish film Let the Right One In, you should. I rented it after reading an intriguing review on an excellent blog I follow, Blood Milk, and it was stunningly lovely.

I'll admit, I have an undeniable weakness for vampire films, but this one transcended the genre with its fragile beauty. If you can't bear plainly illustrated violence and slow, disturbing moodiness, this may not be the film for you, but I was absolutely mesmerized.

The film does not flinch from exploring intense themes in the fertile borderlands between good and evil, adulthood and childhood, innocent friendship and budding sexuality, and all of these are treated with incredibly stark tenderness. The two twelve-year-olds who play the leads were quite magnificent in their roles, and the icy perpetual night of the slums of Stockholm was a perfect setting. The film is both savage and poignant, and utterly moving.

The film is based on a 2004 novel that I'd love to read. I'll pretend I didn't hear about the American remake. La la la.

Good trivia... besides the lore that says a vampire cannot enter a house uninvited, the title also refers to a Morrissey song I had never heard, "Let the Right One Slip In," which includes the delightful lyric "I'd say you were within your rights to bite." I've been bitten, truly.