For being a quite content person, I sure harbor a lot of envy. I envy people with effortless style. I envy people who arrive on time, without a drop of sweat on their brows. I envy people who just make things, like it’s some kind of magic, instead of like it’s self-flagellation. (Hm. It seems, perhaps, that I am less envious of people and more envious of effortless. Yes. Doesn’t effortless sound SO nice?).
In my jet-lagged (still! Even though babies are now sleeping!) state, I’ve been catching up on all my blog reading. This video (via Design*Sponge) is one that just made me itch all over with envy envy ENVY!
Legacy of Letters from Luca Barcellona on Vimeo.
No erasing! No white-out! No tearing up the paper to shreds, stomping on it and crying! No ice cream funk! How is it possible????
I have to remind myself that this guy, this Luca Barcellona character, surely didn’t pick this skill up overnight. Just like I like to suppose that anyone who is good at anything really just spent a lot of time alone in his basement in high school being a loser, single-mindedly practicing practicing practicing for the imagined future day when his genius would be discovered and his former high school classmates would look at each other and say, “That guy? Really?” and oh sweet vindication!! (if only I had had the foresight, I could have been that guy too! Instead I was just a loser without any focus!) I like to think that about musicians and people who keep consistent sketchbooks and good cooks and sewers and people who can do hundreds of sit-ups and basically anyone who can do something that I can’t do. I comfort myself in thinking that I could have been able to do X by now if only I had had the good sense to start when I was 15. Add awesome calligraphy to the list.
Of course, this doesn’t allow for innate genius. Luckily (or unluckily), innate genius isn’t something I could achieve if only I had the time. So as much as I envy Mr. Barcellona, there is something inside of me that knows I will never have the steadiness and neatness that must be constitutionally required of this kind of work. So at least I’m off the hook on that one.
Now, if only I had the time to learn how to play the electric bass…
Two things.
1. The music! That’s Zoe Keating and I LOVE her stuff. She does it ALL with her and her one cello. It’s amazing and I highly recommend buying her cds. Now. Don’t worry, they’re available on iTunes, so it’s practically effortless.
2. The letters! They are beautiful. Yes. But really, not very practical. Go ahead, try to write me a note when each letter is 8″ big. It’ll take you 10 pages just to say “Hi Don.” And imagine the postage! Just my opinion.
Thanks for the tip on the music, Don. Next stop: iTunes.
And I think my next sideline project is going to be writing you a note in letters 8″ big. Seriously. Just to have an excuse to buy one of those pens…
(but then, much like your zebra t-shirt, don’t hold your breath)
Gorgeous. And thanks so much for the music info, Don. It is really lovely.
Robbi, I am envious as well. I am an extremely messy artist. Even if I could manage the letters (no way!), I’d end up dripping the ink on my best sweater, which would then end up on the paper, and the car seat, etc. I have learned to keep a mirror next to the door of my studio to check myself before exiting, because I have often gone from work, straight to errands, discovering once home, that I had smears of paint all over my face (or even my hair on a couple of occasions). Pathetic.
Oh Clare. Your comment does me good. In grad school I had a professor who could sit down and do a complete demo in head-to-toe linen and snappy heels and when she was done, she would not only be perfectly clean, she would also have nary a wrinkle in her clothes.
I can’t even LOOK at linen (or cotton! or anything that isn’t 100% polyester!) without it wrinkling and staining and looking like a bag lady.
Three cheers for us messies.