hot tub

Today's favourite things posting would be a most welcome addition to our household - the fabulous Dutchtub. (Not to be confused with a dutch oven which is never greeted with a welcome.)


Normally, I'm just not a fan of hot tubs. I tend to run far far away from any vacation rental or hotel that boasts of one. (Shiver me timbers, just the thought of it makes me gag.)

The Dutchtub on the other hand is pretty darn irresistible. For more photos of this wood-fired marvel in action, check out the Flickr stream.

refined pallet

When you live in an isolated northern community, the search for art and design inspiration more often than not involves trips Outside and many an hour online. It's a rare treat when something fresh and innovative appears close to home - in this case, a few metres from my house.

For several years now Paul Gort has been working away in his studio outside of Whitehorse with a mission to bring modern design and quality craftmanship to the cabins and suburban boxes of the north. In a town where a place called The Country House is considered high style and The Brick the height of contemporary, Gort Fine Woodworking has had its work cut out for it.

This winter, in conjunction with the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver, audiences south of 60 will have a chance to view a new Gort original making its debut at the Canadian Craft Federation's exhibition "Unity and Diversity", a celebration of the best of Canadian fine craft. If you're in the area next February, stop by the Vancouver Art Gallery and check it out.

"Pallet Table" is from Gort's new line of studio furniture pieces aimed at reclaiming the concept of fine craft by taking the temporary and cobbled together forms and vessels so beloved by do-it-yourselfers and reforming them into objects of enduring and unique beauty.

"The Pallet Table reintroduces audiences to the ubiquitous shipping pallet. Found in alleyways and dumpsters across the land, the lowly pallet is seen primarily as a vessel for transporting goods or by do-it-yourselfers as a source of crude material to be reused for makeshift purposes. My reinterpretation stays true to the familiar form but is finely rendered using solid black walnut and traditional hand-crafted joinery as a direct challenge to our perceptions of quality and longevity."

To check out more of Gort's designs visit him online.

surrealist soup tureen

There's nothing I like better than an object with a sense of humour. For a couple of years now I've been coveting and drooling over the topography soup tureen from Japan's Kyouei Designs. It combines three of my favourite things in one: surrealism, tureens (thanks to Astrid Lindgren's children's classic "Emil in the Soup Tureen") and soup.



One of these days I'm going to cave in and make it mine all mine.

..and there's always music in the air

Finally made it through all the bonus features on the Twin Peaks Gold Box Set. While pretty comprehensive, including this little ditty would have been the ice cream on Norma's cherry pie. Can't have everything.

J'accuse!

I've been a little distracted -- ok a lot distracted --lately which has led to shameless neglect of the green things in my house and around the yard. The other day as I slunk by the big wilting ficus in the loft, I swear I heard him hiss "J'accuse"! Oh dear, if only I had a few of these IV pots from Vitamin Design, my asparagus fern might still be talking to me.




10 cc's of h20, stat!

for the love of awkwardness

When it comes to portraits or any artistic genre really, I couldn't be less interested in "pretty". I'm particularly suspect of anything purporting to be unstaged, natural, or candid as (to my mind) those images tend to be the most infused with artifice. I like a good staged narrative. Highly posed, unapologetically constructed, these images expose the uncomfortable truths that we might not care to reveal about ourselves.

Here are a few examples from some of my favourite photographers:

Jeff Wall's "Mimic"


Tina Barney's "Jill and Polly in the bathroom"


Nic Nicosia's "Like photojournalism"


Recently though, my sister tuned me into a hilarious new website devoted to (unintentionally) awkward family photos that give new meaning to the word uncomfortable. Simply put, you can't make this shit up.

A few selections from the website.

"Family tree - even the tree thought this one was awkward"


"My two dads - feel free to use your calculators for this exercise"


"The closeness of you - when you're madly in love..."


There's one image on the site for which there simply are no words. Even I hesitated to post this one - "The Wonder Years" . Yikes.

the lost season

It's snowing heavily outside. Again. (still?) I've been re-reading a number of my favourite books lately and came across this passage in Hemingway's " A Moveable Feast". Feels eerily familiar today.

" Sometimes the heavy cold rains would beat it back so that it would seem that it would never come and that you were losing a season out of your life. This was the only truly sad time in Paris because it was unnatural. You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason. In those days though, the spring always came finally but it was frightening that it had nearly failed."

from russia with love

Today's favourite things posting goes to this incredible pictogram letter Charles Eames sent his daughter Lucia and her family describing his visit to Russia. From the Eames archives.



Get it, charred l's? Took me a while!

a few really good things

I've said it before - I really like things. Beautifully crafted, cleverly executed things. In general though, I think most of us have way too many things. Cheap, poorly designed, throw-away things. Things for-the-sake-of-having-things things.

The last few years, I've tried to apply the "generation test" to potential new acquisitions. How long will this last and will my kids or (if they're not blessed with their parents' impeccable aesthetic) will someone else's kids value and use this years from now? Doesn't matter whether it's a toy or a book or a planter or a sofa, the same test applies. I also try to go for vintage or pre-loved items wherever possible - generally, if something is still around and looking beautiful after all these years, it means it was made really well and will likely be around for some years yet.

Granted, this philosophy does usually mean spending more money than you would on the here today,toss it tomorrow version.

When I find myself faced with the dilemma of spending what seems to be a lot more for the quality item, I think back on a piece of advice I was given years ago. When we lived in Toronto, I used to love visiting Yank Azman's stall at the Harbourfront Antique Market. Yank's shop was filled to the brim with beautiful, exotic and weird things from centuries past. Crocodile valises, first editions of literary classics, pith helmets, elephant foot humidors, you name it. I used to drool over a fine first edition of Out of Africa but being a broke recent graduate, couldn't bring myself to make the purchase. Yank told me that sometimes you just have to buy the thing when you can't afford it, because by the time you can, it won't be around or accessible. He told me the story of how back in the 80s he had a chance to buy a lifeboat from the Titanic - he passed thinking he couldn't afford it. Fast forward a few years and the release of a certain cheezy blockbuster, and well, that seemingly pricey investment was looking like a bargain. Granted Yank was speaking from more of a collecting and investing perspective versus pure longevity, beauty and value which is where I'm coming from.

A few years ago we were (again) broke students living in Vancouver. We spotted this iconic Hans Olsen for Frem Rojle dining set in a second hand store on Main Street. Though we absolutely couldn't afford it, we got it anyway. Designed in 1953, this is still a much coveted set. You'll find write ups about it all over the internet, at listing costs of more than double what we paid.





A thing of beauty really is a joy forever. The fewer and finer things you have, the more likely you'll actually use and appreciate them.

unknown legend

I don't quite know why all my favourite movies seem to centre around the "dysfunctional family forced to spend time together" motif but add Rachel Getting Married to the list next to Squid and the Whale, Interiors and Margot at the Wedding.

Only Jonathan Demme could think to weave in this Neil Young cover - a cappella no less. Tunde Adebimpe, I think I love you.

p.s. apropos of Jonathan Demme, I've been listening to a lot of Talking Heads these days.

stolen apples for karen blixen

The most interesting retrospectives and compilations (for me) are those that contain contact sheets, sketches, letters, diary excerpts etc - anything that reveals something "secret" or that offers an insight into an artist's process. In trying to get my own creative kick-start at the tail end of this seemingly endless winter, I've been going back through my notebooks in search of a scribble or half-baked idea to get me started again. (The truth is I know exactly what I should be doing but since it involves a fair amount of work, I've been lazing about hoping something easier falls into my lap.)

During today's prolonged procrastination session (or research as I like to call it) I came upon a quote I jotted down from one of Karen Blixen's many notebook and diary entries on display at her home in Denmark.

"To imagine the possibility of something actually happening one needs imagination of the finest and rarest sort."

Considering the source, it's both inspiring and daunting.

Check out this 1973 super 8 film by Derek Jarman. "Stolen Apples for Karen Blixen" is both inscrutable and familiar.

Stolen Apples For Karen Blixen, (Derek Jarman)

death in a nutshell

My brain is wired in such a way that I'm driven to distraction by pretty much anything rendered in miniature. Miniature furniture, mini household accessories, mini liquor bottles (I blame Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone for that one) salesman samples, what have you, I love a mini. I also have a bit of a thing for the macabre. The macabr-er the better.

So you can imagine how the discovery of this book a few years ago sent my synapses a-twittering. "The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death" is a luscious series of gruesome miniature murder scenes beautifully photographed by Corrine May Botz.

The morbid dioramas and photos would have been enough on their own to earn this book a place on the top shelf. Reading about the creator of these finely rendered crimes scenes, Frances Glessner Lee, put it in my favourite books hall of fame.

"Frances Glessner Lee was a brilliant, witty, shy, intimidating, and, by some accounts, impossible woman", reads the opening line. Talk about my kind of person! Born in the late 1800's into a wealthy Chicago family Glessner Lee yearned to put her finely tuned intellect toward some greater societal purpose. Stymied by smothering parents, social conventions of the day and a mismatched marriage, Glessner Lee spent her youth waiting for the day her life would begin. The wait paid off. She managed to shed her marriage in the early 1900's and after the death of her parents, found herself the beneficiary of a sizeable fortune. Since she wasn't able to attend Harvard as a young woman (her parents forbid it), she did the next best thing later in life - she used her inheritance to establish the Harvard department of Legal Medicine to train law enforcement personnel in forensic investigation. (The original CSI.) Using her skills as a miniaturist, she designed a series of meticulously crafted 1:12 scale crime scenes to train investigators.



























Lee earned quite a reputation as a forensics instructor and became the first woman to become a member of the International Association of Chiefs of Police. Definitely someone I'd love to have at a "5 dead people dinner party".

Glessner Lee shown here at work on a diorama.














The models currently reside at Maryland Medical Examiner's Office in Baltimore, putting that city on my list of places to visit. (well, that and the possibility of a Jimmy McNulty sighting.)

birdhouse for your soul

The other day while window surfing I came across these modernist birdhouses inspired by the Case Study house program. It got me thinking that if I were reincarnated as a bird, I'd definitely want to find myself nesting in the Richard (Neutra) or the Ralph (Rapson)


























. . . versus say, one of these holy homes by designer frederik roije. Though I must say, that side by side they do have a certain appeal.

mattel modern

For the last couple of days, people have been forwarding me articles about Barbie turning 50, usually accompanied with a note that says "this made me think of you". Now where they would get the idea that I would be interested in such a thing I couldn't possibly say. I hate that crazy bitch and all her cheap plastic paraphernalia. Well, to be fair, she wasn't always that way. There was a time way back when when toy makers like Mattel, Suzy Goose and Deluxe Reading made some pretty beautiful things for Barbie and friends. As her hair changed from brown to bottle blonde and her boobs ballooned and her waistline grew concave, so did her accessories undergo the same cheapening process.

Among the best of the vintage best is the Mattel Modern furniture line. Introduced in 1958, (a full year before Barbie came to be) this line of made in japan, danish inspired mid century furniture is highly sought after 50 years on.
























I guess we can always hope that menopause will bring her to her senses and inspire a return to the classic roots from which she came, but I'm not holding my breath. Happy birthday old girl.

the geezer in the mirror

You know winter has gone on far too long when you look in the mirror and discover you've turned into one of these guys.

lions and t-shirts and toys oh my

Today's post contains not one, not two, but three count 'em, three favourite things rolled into one package and tied up with string. Put on your best safari suit, crack open a bottle of Tusker biridi and hit play.

First up is not so much a thing as a place. In my dream biography, there'd be a chapter that reads "I had an acreage in Africa at the foot of the Taita-Rukinga wildlife sanctuary." Has a nice ring to it n'est-ce pas? If you've been dreaming of Kenya but don't know where to get your trip started, here's an offer you can't refuse. The Earthwatch Institute sponsors scientific research projects around the world, including a number in Kenya, that afford the average Joe and Joanne the chance to become (paying) volunteer researchers in the field (tax deductible for US residents).















Back in 2002, we took part in the Lions of Tsavo adventure in Kenya (read my account for the Globe and Mail here.) Two weeks of roaming a private wildlife sanctuary in search of infamous man eating lions, taking in some of the world's most magnificent flora and fauna as you go. Despite their man-eating reputation, what makes these cats so interesting to the researchers is their lack of manes. Tickle your fancy? There's no time to waste because 2009 will be the last year for the project. It's not cheap, but you'll never regret it. Compared with a mini-bus tour .. well .. there is no comparison.

Can't go there? then get a T-shirt. Just next door to the Lions of Tsavo project stomping grounds is Wildlife Works. Situated on the Rukinga wildlife sanctuary, the area is a crucial wildlife corridor for elephants and other kings of the savannah who travel through the reserve which transects the east and west divisions of Tsavo National Park. Using a fantastic model they've dubbed "consumer powered conservation", the founders have established a garment factory on the sanctuary employing (primarily women) from the neighbouring villages. Through the clothing line sold online and in boutiques around the world, Wildlife Works is helping to improve the economic and social conditions of local people which in turn helps protect the area's wild inhabitants. Alternative sources of income = less poaching and charcoal burning which is good for everyone. So get online and order your tshirt today. I have literally a dozen of them that I bought on a visit to the factory a few years ago and from their flagship store in San Francisco.

For those of you with a mini Dr Doolittle at home, or who just like cool toys, the Fisher Price Adventure People safari set is a must have. Comes with a documentary film-making family to boot. Made in the 70's, there are still some sets to be found - I got mine on ebay. They just don't make many toys like this anymore.

There you have it - 3 of my favourite things from and inspired by the wilds of east africa.

the sincerest form of theft

I think the first time I heard the expression "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" it was from my mom. I was in 2nd or 3rd grade and someone else had the audacity to show up at recess wearing princess leia buns. Didn't she know that there could be only ONE princess leia at selkirk street school and clearly it was ME? I still get hot under the collar thinking about it all these years later.

Imagine how Thomas Lee must have felt back in the winter of 1903 when he took pity on local carpenter Harry Bunnell by offering up his chair design to help the carpenter earn a few bucks . Lee figured Bunnell could use his design for a summer chair to make a couple of pieces to sell locally in the town of Westport, NY where Lee owned a summer home. Recognizing a good thing when he saw it, Bunnell wasted no time taking the design straight to the nearest patent office and lo and behold the Bunnell Westport Plank Chair --aka the adirondack chair -- was born. The carpenter did quite well for himself, continuing to churn out the chairs for the next few decades. Today, an original Bunnell chair will fetch a tidy sum - just ask Leigh Keno of antiques roadshow fame.












If there are any collectors out there willing to pay a particularly tidy sum for a rocking chair version stamped 1922, please feel free to contact me. As it happens, there's one in my living room - I'd never dream of selling it of course (wink wink) but you can catch a glimpse of it in this polaroid from my "explorations in ennui" series a few years back.

stuck between the moon and new york city

This is the time of year when I really rack up the mental travel miles. The snowdrifts continue to climb higher and the mercury shows no signs of rising above -10c so I hit the road and go wandering.


Today I wandered over to the Jen Bekman gallery in NYC and found that she's hosting a solo show for one of my favourite artists, Sarah McKenzie. At the risk of repeating myself, she's still the bees knees in my book.















So, if you're lucky enough to find yourself in new york city this month, check it out and drop me a line c/o my outpost, (they'll know it at the post office as the the last stop to on the way to the moon) and tell me how they looked up close and in person. Until then, off to the next destination.

design matters: bringing the mean streets in

Living as I do on the edge of one of the last true wilderness areas on earth, there are days when all the trees and fresh air and birds and four-legged fur bearing visitors gets to be a bit much. In the midst of all this rural charm, one does what one can to keep connected to the concrete jungle.

In Japan's Pull+Push design team, I think I've found real kindred spirits who understand what it means to yearn for cement and rebar and smog and industry. A few of these items carefully placed around your home are sure to quench your inner urban longings.

from their collection of planters: cube, pipe, hei, mansion and haisui.



























Incense pots: cottage and factory:









Ashtrays: kiso and foot










I can practically smell the smog. Welcome to my happy place.

my funny post-modern valentine

I happen to think Valentine's day is pretty much the cheesiest of all the cheesy born-of-religion-raised in-capitalism holidays. Then again I think red roses, heart shaped pendants and boxes of candy are pretty icky. If you must succumb to the notion of love = buying things, here are a few ideas that are at least a little more original.

Nothing says lovers in a dangerous time quite as much as these items - Tobias Wong's ballistic rose pin will take a bullet for you, while Sam & Jude's 3 gun vase is perfect for the NRA couple who believe that love means never having to say sorry (not even if you were to accidentally shoot each other).

If you are getting tired of hearing your beloved playing this song ad nauseam, the 2 carat cup by Yusuke Fujinuma is sure to get a reaction.










Though don't be surprised if the next song you hear is this one...

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For those who are too busy, too important (or just plain too turned off by PDAs) to actually hug their beloved, there's always the hug shirt by cute circuit. This gadget allows users to send and receive simulated human contact via blackberry. Now if that's not love . . .















And last but not least, for those out there who don't happen to have a Plus One on this magical day, there's always the Buddy Throw. Comes in a number of colours to match any decor, but none is more creepy than this chalk-outline version. (although who am I to judge? I suppose even necrophiliacs deserve a little nooky on VDay.)