The Guild is a very professional looking website that sells artists’ art. I was glad to see they offer a variety of ceramic works. Via TechCrunch, who reports that the “Madison, Wisconsin based The Guild bills itself as the ‘leading source for artist-made home décor products shipped direct from artists’ studios to customers’ homes nationwide.’”

A green remodel in D.C. Real Estate agent Amy Levin remodeled a historic home in Washington’s Mt. Pleasant neighborhood, and is hoping for a platinum certification from LEED. While gutting the house, she uncovered a hidden fireplace which is now the centerpiece of her living room, as shown in Heidi Glenn’s following photograph from NPR.

[The photograph mentioned above has been removed per the request of a representative of NPR. I didn't expect this at all, especially since I made a specific effort to give credit to the photographer. This is a personal web diary of my own, and from what I understand I was in the right despite NPR's protest. Regardless, I have no desire to argue over such details with the blind, "old media" and removed the photo immediately. I'm very disappointed, however, in NPR's reaction to what was basically free publicity. Do the marketing and legal departments not talk to each other in their organization?

The NPR rep offered up a "passive link" in place of the photo, which is amusing on a number of levels, not the least of which is that this post already contained such a link. Further, if I recall correctly this isn't the first time I've used an image from NPR's website. Oh well. Eventually big media will realize they won't be able to fight the changes the internet is making to information creation and dissemination. A reminder of this from an older TechCrunch post:

"Societal ideals around what constitutes ownership over art are changing. People who try to protect and silo off their work are simply being ignored. Those that embrace the community, and give back to it not only allowing but asking for their work to be mashed up, re-used and otherwise embraced are being rewarded with attention. At the core is a basic implicit understanding - if you want to be part of the community, you have to give back to it, too."

I expressed my strong disappointment in a reply to NPR's email. We'll see if they respond. Also see a post of mine from December on the ownership of art (photography, in this case) along a similar vein.]

An interesting excerpt from the story:

Green means easy on energy, durable and efficient, but not necessary natural. There are many synthetic materials throughout Levin’s home.

“There are some natural materials that are very appropriate for use in 21st century houses, but there is a lot of neat stuff we’ve made, particularly as it relates to energy efficiency, that does a better job than Mother Nature does,” Yost says.

Of all of the green virtues, the greenest is durability, he says. For people looking to build more environmentally friendly homes, Yost advises installing something that lasts a lifetime and consumes less energy, rather than something that’s more efficient in the short run but must be replaced several times.

I personally hope for the best of all worlds: Natural materials, durability and sustainability.

I learned this weekend that my father finally has a closing date for a building in downtown Grand Island, Nebraska. He’s been looking for a couple of years now. His original idea was to find a place with room for an apartment upstairs and store frontage downstairs. I mentioned his interest in downtown real estate in an August post as well (The building mentioned in that post, which he made an offer on, didn’t pan out.).

Without rehashing the myriad of details he considered while looking for a commercial property, I present to you the structure he finally has a contract on — the elegant building in the middle of the picture:

Amenities include marble stairways to the second floor from the street and alley, a bonafied civic shelter comprising 2/3rds of the basement (complete with thirty empty water barrels) and rental income totaling $900 per month. It seems his patience paid off as he found a building slightly under his budget. The drawback is that the store frontage is being used by one of the renters — who have three years left on their lease — so he will have to peddle his antiques from the second floor for the time being.

This post isn’t so much about this one building though as it is about the ruination of once stately downtowns in American communities. Compare the above photograph to the following historical photo of the original bank building:

The original facade is presently obscured by modern renovations allowing for two street level entries. These economy grade renovations seem to pay no attention to the well-crafted, elegant pilasters and cornice they so haphazardly obscure. The same goes for so many buildings in the area. Look in the first picture at the wild green building to the right of my father’s [future] property, and compare it to the same building in the second photo.

Ugh.

My complaint here is not so much a distinction between modern and more classically influenced architecture as it is a distinction between quality of craft and design. The modern overlays on these buildings look cheap, cheap in the sense of it’s not going to last. They also exhibit poor form in not paying respect to their surroundings. The bright green steel and glass structure seems to completely ignore the materials and colors around it, looking like a flakey marketing gimmick nestled among more serious contenders. One of the things that was made very clear during the two years I studied architecture in college was the importance of the plot. My professor went so far as to suggest we take our sleeping bags to the vacant lot assigned to us and spend the night there.

The modern iterations and modifications also seem to, largely, lack attention to detail. Sure, modern architecture is generally spare — indeed, often cold — in comparison to classical, but it doesn’t have to look like a shoebox with cutouts for doors and windows.

I’d like to help my dad take that stark tin awning off of his little building someday, and I hope the former glory of these buildings is still intact under their present clothing.

I just learned this weekend that DRC has a contract on the building my friend couldn’t get, as well as another downtown building owned by the same person. Both of these buildings have been vacant since I moved to Siloam Springs more than four years ago. DRC is also working on three other buildings in the downtown area, although these projects are not as new.

Ron Drake, owner of DRC Investment Group, has talked about his business functioning as a means to improve the overall quality of Siloam since I’ve known him. And it must be noted the DRC has never, to my knowledge, been all that profitable — though it has been sustainable and given Ron a halfway decent paycheck on a monthly basis if I recall correctly. DRC began building new homes along with its remodels about two years ago which seems to have been a profitable move, a move which may have allowed the company to continue with its community improvement ideas.

Online interior design program: DesignMyRoom.com

Live in a historic East Coast home for free: Minimum requirements include a 25 year lease and $150,000 remodel investement.

More family, less sex equals happiness for people ages 13-24: Out of 1,280 people polled, which isn’t very many. And if some of these kids were as obnoxious as I was at that age the survey isn’t accurate. We made up answers to surveys like this, suggesting we were much more deviant than we actually were!

A few weeks ago I realized something. I’m passionate about living spaces. This isn’t really a revelation. What it is is a succinct way to describe how I’m wired. I’ve been interested in residential architecture since I was twelve years old. This new phrase, however, causes me to think differently about choices I’ve made in the past and will make in the future.

I had coffee with Joel Armstrong this morning. Afterwards we put my bike in his van and drove to his house to pick through the treasures in his garage. From there we drove back towards my place. This is where the story gets interesting — and where it relates to my passion for home interiors.

If I were driving we would have turned down Jefferson to get home. Joel stuck to Main Street, which is not really much slower. Main goes through downtown. It goes right by the Siloam Springs building I spoke of a few weeks ago.

When I looked at the building with a realtor two years ago I saw a piece of furniture, an antique buffet. The buffet stood out in the dusty unfinished second floor space. I almost called the owners and asked if I could have it. I regret not doing that. I told my friend who has a contract on the building I wanted it and he said sure, although neither of us knew if it would still be there when he signed the papers.

So Joel and I drove by said building on Saturday. A sign on the window said “free stuff.” We like free stuff (and I knew the buffet might be in there) so we stopped. We wandered into the building and another “customer” pointed out who was in charge. Just as I was about to get the opportunity to talk to the owners, the ones giving the stuff away, the lady right in front of me found one of the doors from the buffet in a pile of stuff. She asked the owner what the door went with and when the owner pointed to the glorious buffet the lady was almost giddy. And claimed it immediately.

The buffet was in better shape than I remembered (other than one of the four curved doors being off of it). It’s about 40 inches tall. I failed to note the flavor of the exterior veneers, but the inside of the doors were birds-eye maple. It boasted clean shelving and built-in drawers for, I assume, silver. Some of the inlay on the outside of the doors needed attention, but I happen to know that the claimer’s husband is a cabinet maker with an enviable wood shop. This same claimer also goes to my church and lives immediately next door to good friends of mine.

Even after she claimed the majestic piece I asked the building owners where it came from. They said it was left by a tenant who couldn’t pay rent. That tenant was apparently a nephew of the late Wal-Mart heiress Helen Walton. History like this adds incredible value to such an antique, although had I been able to take the thing home I would have kept it. I gave this piece of information to the claimer on our way out of the building, infusing her with another round of giddiness. She hurried back into the building to ask more about the history after calling her husband and telling him to “Come now! Bring truck!”.

If I would have stepped into the building 60 seconds earlier the buffet would have been mine. The claimer said she was willing to wrestle for it. I should have taken her up on this offer.

Of course, it seemed we were a couple minutes too late for any of the good stuff. There were two other interesting pieces of furniture — one a disassembled wardrobe as beautiful as the buffet — that the other couple milling around in the junk already claimed. As it was the building owners (reputed in town for their apparent unwillingness to keep up or sell at reasonable prices the many downtown buildings they own) hadn’t even decided amongst themselves what they were giving away or keeping. The one other thing I really wanted, a little balance scale, they decided they were keeping. I would have used the scale for weighing out materials in glaze-making. I went home with a couple antique-y things for my dad, hardly qualifying as any kind of consolation prize.

Is it insane to obsess so much over a dusty old piece of furniture? I spent the next few hours thinking about this whole scenario. First of all I wondered why God, in whom I believe strongly and trust to take care of me (even if this is in ways I don’t understand), would allow me to even see the “free stuff” sign. Why did He pick this Saturday for Joel to insist I go back to his house? Why didn’t I suggest Joel take Jefferson instead of letting him keep driving down Main Street? If we wouldn’t have seen the sign I would never have known what I missed out on, that I was less than a minute from getting this wonderful piece of furniture for free, a piece of furniture I had longed for for two years or more. I would have assumed, after my friend signs the contract on the building in September, that the owners took it with them. It was never guaranteed that I would get it.

And it would have been less torment if we arrived at the building later, after the claimer drove off with the buffet. The claimer who I will now see every week at church, reminding me of my loss. It says in the Bible, in the book of James, that we are to rejoice in tribulation. For me this is tribulation.

I hope I came across as civilized to the claimer. I didn’t take her up on her wrestling challenge. I tried to say encouraging things, although I can’t remember exactly how any of them came out. I remember saying something like, “Well, I’m glad there are other people in Siloam with such good taste.” I’m not sure if this came out in a positive or negative way to the hearers. I did call my friend, the claimer’s neighbor, and suggest he go next door and lust after the beautiful object (said mostly in jest, of course). My friend didn’t do this, which I suppose I should be thankful for.

Part of my interest probably stems from being a dumpster-diver, from my keen interest in salvage and restoration. This was a find, an incredible find. And the claimer knew it. And I’m sincerely happy for her. I’m just quite sad for myself. And my wife, who was with me when we saw the buffet two years ago, is almost as sad.

What will I learn from this experience? Am I supposed to learn something, or am I just supposed to give grace which in turn will make God look good — which I’m perfectly OK with and which God deserves from us. Or maybe I was supposed to wrestle this woman, probably only five years older than me (roughly). Maybe my wrestling her for this beautiful piece of furniture would be kind of like Jesus’ anger at the vendors in the Temple. After all, I do believe that my passionate interest in beautiful, tactile things is a gift from God.

I know, I know, that last one is more than a little bit of a stretch. Truth is I have know idea why God allowed this to happen in my life. I may never know.

Part of the humor in the whole adventure was that Joel didn’t come away with much free stuff either, and he’s as much of a salvage monkey as I am. He kept asking for the junkiest and most obscure little items — an old sign, spools of wire — which the owners of the building decided on the spot they were keeping. Old, half-used spools of steel wire they keep, and significant, wondermous antique furniture formerly owned by the Walton family they give away! How incredibly strange this seems to me!

I know that I will look back on the morning and laugh.

Once I get over my insane sadness. Once I stop kicking myself for not being more aggressive, for not walking into the building and yelling “Where’s the buffet that used to be upstairs? I want it!” which, my wife will tell you, isn’t all that much out of character for me.

From the latest issue of Real Simple:

Two of this year’s “new” shades — sage and curry — sound decades away from the avocado green and harvest gold that distinguished so many interiors in the 1970s. But guess what? The colors are exactly the same.

Wait — so there are no new shades under the sun? Not really, says Patricia Verlodt, president of Color Services and Associates, a color-consulting firm in Wonder Lake, Illinois. When color experts like Verlodt devise palettes for their corporate clients, they draw from a vast bank of existing shades, renaming their picks to pique interest. (Harvest gold? Ho-hum. Curry? How worldly!)

Verlodt searches constantly for fresh ideas, consulting flower and rock guides, cookbooks, baby-nam books and even maps. “People think of places when they think of colors,” she says. So move over, linen white, and make way for next year’s Tuscan beige. (page 247)

I’ve never understood how they, whoever “they” used to be, got away with calling those colors gold and avocado. That green doesn’t look like the skin or meat of any avocado I’ve ever eaten. But it looks less like sage! Renaming the old harvest gold curry seems to be a more appropriate tag.

I’ve mentioned before how there’s no such thing as a bad color, but there are poor applications of colors. Apparently the above snippet refers to paint colors and not appliance colors. Regardless, I feel the need to warn Patricia and her decision making peers to keep these colors — whatever they’re called — off of kitchen and bathroom appliances!

These are very poor applications of these colors.

A friend (and the Jr. High pastor at my church) has a contract on a building in downtown Siloam Springs. He hopes to rent out spaces or slots to designers and multi-media people on the main floor and live on the second floor with his wife.

My father is considering a building in Grand Island, Nebraska. He’s actually been looking at real estate in the city’s downtown area for more than two years. Nothing has really caught his fancy until this summer — though this is partly related to commensurate interest from other family members.

My wife and I love the idea of living in a downtown area, in a historic building with all of the great architectural details in such a space — high ceilings, great moldings, brick walls. We like the idea of trying to live out a lifestyle in a more pedestrian culture and being in the center of town happenings.

What’s interesting is how different these buildings are. The one my father is interested in is in great shape (though many he’s looked have not been) and is listed at a bargain-basement $8.42 a square foot. Each of three levels boasts 5,500 square feet. There is a renter on the main floor with more than four years remaining on his lease. The second floor would likely be converted into three living spaces, ranging in size from (roughly) 1,300 to 1,800 square feet. The unfinished basement is clean, dry and from what I could tell in great structural condition. At this point, one of the most significant drawbacks is the building’s lack of an elevator.

The building in Siloam Springs, by contrast, is under contract for $33.85 a square foot (by my calculations) and needs a lot of work. I saw the building two years back when considering a small adjacent space for a gallery. The second floor is basically gutted, if I recall correctly, and covered in pigeon poop. The first floor is outdated and basically used as storage — and storefront for the occasional garage sale. The driving idea behind this remodel is something called The Studios on Broadway.

What’s amazing to me is that the more expensive of these two buildings is in a much smaller community. I’m used to real estate being higher in more populous communities.

Regardless of the differences in these two downtown buildings, I hope both projects succeed. Both projects could give their respective communities a significant push in the right direction. The smaller brick structure next to the one my father is considering is already being renovated, and some of us have high hopes for the seven story Masonic Temple building — recently purchased by someone attmepting to turn it into studios and apartments for artists, with a dinner theater in the larger ballroom space. Friends of mine in Grand Island are skeptical as to whether or not this will actually happen, but we can still hope!

It seems quite likely (though by no means definite at this point) that I will be integrally involved in the project/business my father is considering — if he does indeed purchase the property. My potential involvement presents some very exciting opportunities.

Update: My father made an offer on the building Monday, asking for a response by Wednesday. The offer is a bit low by some people’s standards, but the realtor did say the sellers were quite motivated and the property has been on the market almost a year.

Some of Brent Houzenga’s works seen in a downtown Des Moines coffee shop, taken with my cameraphone:

“Idiom (True lover’s knot)”

“Last breath”

The following is an interview with Cosette Cornelius-Bates. Cosette’s undergaduate work was in art and writing. She is presently finishing up her thesis at Regent College in Vancouver, British Columbia, in theology and the arts. She is knitting her thesis.

I see your undergraduate work was in art and English. What prompted you to go to graduate school?

The need to know more about Christianity and further explore things as a artist who is also a Christian. Also, graduate school is a great place to keep on doing your art.

Yeah, disciplining myself to create after graduating — since I wasn’t pursuing art full-time — has been tough. Did you ever consider pursuing an MFA from a Christian university?

Nope. I was very much interested in learning about both theology and art at the same time.

Ah, sure. I found myself in a very similar position. I remember, albeit vaguely, seeing Regent’s theology and the arts program when I was looking for an MFA program at a Christian school (around the year 2000). I was consindering an MFA at the time with the thought of teaching at the college level. What has been your impression of the program there at Regent? Is it adequate, is it relevant to the needs and desires of its students and the Christian community? 

Regent’s history lends it to cross-disciplined Christianity, starting from the belief that we are all ministers no matter what we do. It trained (and still trains) lay people to combine their vocation with Christian thinking. That said, Regent’s program is not an MFA program and people coming into it will be incredibly let down if that’s what they expect. You’re expected to already be a professional artist coming in. You may have to fight a bit for your education here, but it is well worth it.

I do not like the word relevant as used in the Christian community, so I will use the word necessary.

It is certainly a loaded term, but the best I could come up with for the situation!

Regent is a great theology school, albeit spread a bit thin. What they are trying to do and accomplish is necessary to both the growth of the church and to the people who go here. Like all institutions, it has its problems, but they do not yet trump what they have to offer.

What is the balance between theology (presumably lectures) and studio courses in the program?

The program is first and foremost a Masters of Christian Studies, so it certainly leans towards the theology. You have to have a love of your art and know how to keep doing it when very busy to get any art in the first year. My friend Jim (who is doing his thesis show with mine) and I both got nothing done our first year here. Or maybe that is necessary too.

How is knitting related to theology?

For me, everything is theological. Knitting in particular strikes me as connected on many levels. At the very bottom, it is something we can do to be creative in our everyday lives. One of the questions I am asking in my thesis is how we live as people made in the image of a creative God.

At its best, knitting is also relational- not only in that we take seriously our role as created by a creative God- but also in that knitting is inherently about other people. It is about care, love, warmth, prayers and wishes. It is also about people getting together, talking, telling stories, being productive and creative together.

One step deeper along this path, knitting is about stewardship. It is about sheep and alpaca, llama and goat. It is about taking the time to know why these are amazing gifts from God, caring about how the animals are treated and appreciating the gifts of creation.

As you can see, knitting is a deep practice. It harkens back generations in a world that is obsessed with shallow consumption. It takes into account other humans, creation, and God in a culture where we are told that none of that matters, only our purchases. Practices like knitting, living theology, are essential to our world right now. They help to preserve and give meaning in a world in which it is often absent. Knitting is an example of what philosopher Albert Borgmann calls a ‘focal practice’-a practice that brings things out of the muck and business of the modern world and into a place where we can see again.

What made you think of knitting your thesis?

When the time came to decide, I had a class called ‘Vocation of the Artist.’ I brought in my paintings, my poetry, and my knitting. Everybody was especially taken by the knitting and that was when I knew that knitting had a power that I did not expect. So I decided to explore knitting and theology more.

Do your projects visually reflect theology? If so, how?

Nope. I do have a scarf called the holy spirit scarf.

You use a lot of recycled yarn — a very important part of your work. Does the theological idea of restoration show in your work, or play out in the process? 

The recycling is certainly playing with the ideas of restoration and redemption. I’m subverting the modern norm of mass producing too many animal product sweaters and not taking the product seriously. In re-knitting, I am holding the animal fiber yarn up as something more valuable that needs to be considered. On another front, I am also, very practically, recycling sweaters and fibers that no one is willing to call lovely and precious and making them lovely and precious. Just doing my little part in the incarnation.

Most (in fact, all that I can find) of your knitting projects result in functional objects. Have you ever considered using this craft to draw, paint or sculpt non-functional objects?

I have considered it. On a personal level, I don’t think I can subvert a medium that I love so much. I am too attached to the practicality of wool and to all of the women who came before me. I am planning a painting and lace shawl project, but the shawls will still be ultimately useful. For me, wool is for warmth. When not used for warmth, it almost seems a waste to me. That said, I would totally buy a weaving or what have you for my wall. I don’t mind if others do it, it’s just not my thing. When you become so deeply involved with a medium while making art, I expect that you’re probably using it in good ways.

How has the art community approached and/or viewed your knitting?

I am more a member of the crafting community than the art community. The nice thing about knitting is that everyone understands it. People naturally know what it means. Many of the people who originally were so moved by my knitting are fine artists, but, yet, knitting seems more primal to me. That said, I can’t imagine it going over well in the high art community. It does go over well with random people on buses though.

Your Etsy store is doing very well according to your blog. How long have you used Etsy? How did the store become so successful?

I have been on Etsy since June 26, 2006. I really have no idea how my store became successful. I hope that I do good work and do it well and I hope that is what people are attracted to.

The Siloam Springs Herald Leader ran an all-too-brief story this morning detailing a few other remodeling projects downtown.

The bane of the area has long been the Crown Hotel. This 1880 hotel functions more-or-less as a halfway house. Rooms are available for rent from one-night up to four weeks and include kitchenettes. It is a profitable business. It is an ugly building.

Many people in town take issue with the type of clientele the Crown serves. My problem rests mainly with the building’s appearance. The new owners, Larry and Kathy Muruaga, also purchased the neighboring and elegant Vintage Inn — formerly a building used by the International House of Prayer, a flea market and a bed and breakfast.

In the Herald Leader story by Jeff Della Rosa, Muruaga disappointingly notes that no major renovations are planned for the hotel. They are, as people move out of the rooms, replacing appliances and so forth. The exterior is not completely dilapidated, but it needs some significant attention. One or two additions on the back of the building should, in my opinion, be torn down. One can only imagine how disgusting the rooms are, judging by the scuzzy and broken mini-blinds in the windows.

Doug Duke, former Siloam Springs city engineer, is also remodeling a downtown building. I walked through this building — entirely vacant excepting a stripped Yugo on blocks and a cargo elevator — when looking at an adjacent building for a gallery space. Duke’s building needed a lot of work. The roof and floor were both rotten and unsafe. He plans to put two two-bedroom apartments in the building, which is attached to the backside of the former Daddio’s.

Now all we need is a usable system of sidewalks throughout the community so people can walk downtown.