Bugwatching

I emailed myself this link recently, in case I wanted to post some spider pictures. I found it via Neurophilosophy.

This guy, Mike Libby, found a dead beetle one day and, intrigued by its beautiful exoskeleton, installed some watch parts in it. Why? I don't know, really. His artist statement type page says he explores "themes of science, nature, fantasy, history and autobiography; highlighting illogical and acute correspondences between the real and unreal."

The results aren't working watches or clocks, but rather really compelling little pieces of cybernetic sculpture.

He's got beetles, and butterflies, and dragonflies, and of course arachnids. He continues to work with found specimens occasionally, but he also obtains them from some kind of entomology supply house. In addition, you can send him a specimen you're particularly fond of and, if possible, he'll make it into a custom piece for you.

The Rubber Duck knows no frontiers

I read this article called "Moby-Duck: Or the synthetic wilderness of childhood" by Donovan Hohn, in the January, 2007, issue of Harpers magazine (it's online, but only to subscribers; I think you can find it at your public library or online via your library's website). Unfortunately I gave away the magazine, but I highly recommend that you find it and read it. Failing that, here's an article from The Daily Mail last summer about how these 29,000 rubber ducks and other bath toys fell off a container ship and floated all over the world. For fifteen years. Oceanographer Curtis Ebbesmeyer has devoted his retirement to tracking the toys and their journey of over 17,000 miles.

It's a fascinating story.

I have no idea, actually, whether Dutch artist Florentijn Hofman was inspired by the story of those brave little ducks, but he nevertheless offered the world this enormous Rubber Duck:


The installation, earlier in 2007, was on the Loire river in France. The duck is made of inflatable, rubber-coated PVC, with pontoons and an on-board generator. The notes on his website (translated from the Dutch) say of the project:

"A yellow spot on the horizon slowly approaches the coast. People have gatherd and watch in amazement as a giant yellow Rubber Duck approaches. The spectators are greeted by the duck, which slowly nods its head. The Rubber Duck knows no frontiers, it doesn't discriminate people and doesn't have a political connotation. The friendly, floating Rubber Duck has healing properties: it can relieve mondial tensions as well as define them. The rubber duck is soft, friendly and suitable for all ages!"

See also his Zwarte kraai ("black crow") and Beukelsblauw, an entire block of derelict buildings in Rotterdam that he painted bright blue. Be sure to click through the slide shows for each of the projects.

And no, I'm not really sure what mondial tensions are either, and my handy Dutch-English dictionary isn't spectacularly helpful. I think it means "universal." Or maybe "worldly."