There are moments in our lives that we feel tethered to, where nostalgia plants its roots, and the associated memories bundle into tidy decades where we can easily revisit them. VH-1 churned out hours of content so we could revel in our past. Portlandia turned a decade into a song (raise your hand if you went to the Jim Rose Circus). Fashion trends are cut from the past and sewn into something new (or turned into chokers).

The world is disappointing. The world wide web doesn’t have to be. Enjoy these links and your weekend

At the beginning of August illustrator Melanie Johnnson launched her pattern challenge on Instagram. Participants were provided 15 prompts to complete over the course of the month — 2 a day. While I love to draw and make digital creations, I’m not a pattern maker. It is, however, a technique I’ve been wanting to explore for a while. The reluctance was two-fold: what and how.

On the recommendation of a friend, we started watching (and then plowed through) the HBO show Our Flags Mean Death. The show shares some DNA with What We Do in the Shadows so figured we’d fall in love. And that we did, for different reasons.

I am an artist and express myself through different mediums. I like to ingest the art of others — collect, ogle, share what I can. I am not a critic. For one, I don’t have a trained tongue and have a hard time communicating what speaks to me and what doesn’t. I can tell you if something feels askew or makes my eyes sparkle, and that’s where it ends.

In June we went to Hawaii, the Big Island specifically. Once again, my fascination with volcanoes stirred. WE WERE ON A VOLCANO. Not even one, but multiple ones, jutted up against each other making an island puzzle. In Volcano National Park I witnessed a live volcano with its pocket of steam reminding us that nothing is as docile as it appears.

The world is disappointing. The world wide web doesn’t have to be. Enjoy these links and your weekend:

Sam Larson, aka Steel Bison, is what I’d call prolific. Someone called me prolific once. It was in reference to the number of emails I sent. To be clear, he’s the good kind. That makes me the “I’m sorry” kind I guess.

So many of my favorite things are rooted in childhood memories. I am built and maintained by how I choose to remember the past. Little purses remind me of grandmothers and souvenir shops, a small space for treasures and secrets.

Now chronicling thematic visual finds as they accidentally intersect on Pinterest.

The world is disappointing. The world wide web doesn’t have to be. Enjoy these links and your weekend…

There have been moments of feeling disconnected over the course of the pandemic. While our household is a group of solitary creatures — we are bubble people by nature — human connection, beyond our sphere, is still a good thing.