Here's something I saw on Inhabitat today that looks extremely interesting - the World House Project:

"The Evolution of Home

The WHP is a multi-year, collaborative initiative led by the Institute without Boundaries (IwB) that will explore the evolution of shelter and plan for the next generation of holistic housing design. The project will build on the research concepts of IwB’s inaugural project, Massive Change, using the same method of interdisciplinary design innovation.

The home is the intersection between the individual and society. On one end of the spectrum, urban sprawl and monster houses consume huge amounts of energy and pollute the atmosphere. On the other, over a billion people live in urban slums or in the streets without shelter.

The ambition of the World House Project (WHP) is to generate a system that achieves a balance between these extremes, and operates on the principles of sustainability, universality, technological responsiveness and balance, so that we may create dwellings that promote the long-term health of nature and human cultures."

They're benchmarking homes from around the world, old and new, studying them to gain an understanding of important implications of "climate, culture and terrain." The team, international and interdisciplinary in nature, will examine housing in the framework of twelve core elements of housing design and work to "create dwellings that are grounded in the principles of ecological design and that promote the long-term health of natural and human economies." The twelve core elements are: identity, social, communication, spatial, constructional, air handling, energy, water, waste, food, mobility, and finance. That's a very compelling list, indeed.

Here are a few images from the World House Project scrapbook on Flickr that I really like:






I've always imagined that homes could (and should) be built in this way!

It will be very interesting to see what comes out of this project. I'll be looking forward to watching it.

Image credits - World House Project Flickr photo album

Books are very important to me. I'm one of those people who would rather sit at home reading than go to a party. I get lost in stories, and read coffee table books over and over again, scanning pictures repeatedly to glean every last detail. Books are good friends. They deserve good homes.

The Maison de Verre in Paris (via NY Times via rolu|dsgn). This house is absolutely brilliant.



The Upcher house by Bates Masi Architects (via DO Research). Beautiful.



Mill Valley Straw Bale Residence by Arkin Tilt Architects - the entire main inner wall is one great bookshelf and art gallery.

I recently got a query from one of the editors of Mother Earth News regarding a news story she had read in the New York Times. The writer, David Pogue, had been a judge in a contest sponsored by by the History Channel and the National Inventors Hall of Fame titled "Modern Marvels/Invent Now." A $25,000 prize was awarded to one amoung 25,000 contestants, and the winner was the Enertia House, which was invented by engineer and former log-home architect, Michael Sykes.

The Mother Earth News editor said that these homes had been featured in their magazine before. They essentially provide two wooden shells for the home, one inside the other. She said that there was no mention in the article about the cost per square foot. She was wondering what I thought about the concept from the standpoint of sustainable architecture.

Here is my response:

Double envelope house designs have been around for several decades and they definitely offer some benefits, as well as raise some questions. Any house that takes advantage of the geothermal properties of the ground will be doing its inhabitants and the earth a good turn. This can take the form of earth-sheltering in general, or some clever system of circulating air like the Enertia concept; coupled with sensible passive solar design, it is possible to approach a "zero energy" home.

The concerns about their system that I have are: The use of wood as the primary building material is not generally sustainable in this day of lost forests. With the double envelope design, you are practically building two houses to end up with one. Relying on wood as a thermal mass material compromises the potential thermal performance because wood does not serve this function nearly as well as traditional masonry thermal mass materials. So, I guess what I am saying is that a more sustainable and less costly design can be accomplished in more traditional ways.

Answering the same question, Paul Scheckel wrote, "At first glance, this looks a lot like sunspace design from the 70s (without the stone-filled basement to store heat) which overheated in the daytime and lost lots of heat at night. Consider also that this giant convection oven requires a temperature difference, which in this case is driven by the sun and the cool basement. A New England winter has precious little sun, so my heating system will drive the convective loop, increasing heat loss (in addition to the insulation-free envelope). I haven't heard too many people (ie: none) say that wood is bad for houses and better for biodiesel, but there are good arguments for not using so much material in a home. Does it work? I'd like to see one built in the northeast and see the resulting energy data, wherein the proof will lie."

Clark Snell of www.thinkgreenbuilding.com wrote, "I spent five minutes looking over the web site, so these comments are only based at looking at marketing materials, i.e. they may be inaccurate. Ditto what has been said so far. A couple more “red flags:”

1. Solid wood envelope. They seem to be using the old “mass enhanced R-value” argument for why solid wood walls perform well thermally. I think it’s well established that this is true only in very specific climatic situations. Touting solid southern yellow pine walls in comparison to solid white pine walls is like saying a Chevy Suburban gets better gas mileage than a Hummer…that’s not really a useful statistic.
2. Energy without oil. The presentation intimates that this is a completely passive design. For example, no heating system is mentioned. That simply isn’t credible for most climates using the technology they are describing.
3. Passive means local. You simply can’t create a design that relies heavily on passive techniques and generalize it across climates. In my area where we have high humidity, I’d wonder about this convective loop through the attic and basement, for example.

I could go on. I’m a passive design freak, so I’m all for the basic concepts they are dealing with. However, I don’t see anything really new here, but see marketing claims touting what they are doing as a major breakthrough and “the answer”. That always makes me nervous."

David Eisenberg, of www.dcat.net wrote, "After a skimming around their website, I see that they sell kits and their base prices don't include a lot of things - some of which are enumerated:

The idea of making walls by stacking bags of sand or earth has been around for at least a century. Originally sand bags were used for flood control and military bunkers because they are easy to transport to where they need to be used, fast to assemble, inexpensive, and effective at their task of warding off both water and bullets.

At first natural materials such as burlap were used to manufacture the bags; more recently woven polypropylene has become the preferred material because of its superior strength. The burlap will actually last a bit longer if subjected to sunlight, but it will eventually rot if left damp, whereas polypropylene is unaffected by moisture.

Because of this history of military and flood control, the use of sandbags has generally been associated with the construction of temporary structures or barriers. Using sandbags to actually build houses or permanent structures has been a relatively recent innovation.

It was an Iranian-born architect named Nader Khalili who has popularized the notion of building permanent structures with bags filled with earthen materials. Actually his first concept was to fill the bags with moon dust! Attending a 1984 NASA symposium for brainstorming ways to build shelters on the moon, Khalili coupled the old sandbag idea with the ancient adobe dome and arch construction methods from his homeland in the Middle East. He realized that bags filled with lunar “dirt” could be stacked into domes or vaults to provide shelter.

Khalili came up with a further refinement on this building concept on Earth: for a more permanent, shock-resistant structure, why not place strands of barbed wire between the courses of bags, thus unifying the shell into a more monolithic structure?

At first Khalili was filling his experimental bags with desert sand, but then he evolved his idea of “superadobe,” where bags or long tubes of polypropylene bag material would be filled with a moistened adobe soil that would dry into large adobe blocks. In this case the original bag material was merely the initial form and would not necessarily be an integral part of the eventual structure.

Soon after these first experiments, Khalili began publicizing his work through newspaper and magazine articles and conducting workshops and seminars on the techniques that he was perfecting. Many people who read about his work, visited his compound in Hesperia, California, or studied with him there, decided to go ahead with their own experiments with his ideas.

Among these “early adopters” were Joe Kennedy, Paulina Wojciechowska, Kaki Hunter and Doni Kiffmeyer, Akio Inoue, and Kelly Hart. I believe that it was Joe Kennedy who coined the more general term “earthbag” to suggest that the bag could contain a variety of earthen materials.

Paulina Wojciechowska was the first to write an entire book on the topic of earthbag building: Building with Earth: A Guide to Flexible-Form Earthbag Construction was published in 2001. This featured some of her early experiments done at Khalili’s CalEarth, along with several other case histories.

Akio Inoue, from Tenri University in Japan, has done extensive experimentation with earthbag construction, both on the campus of the University and in India and Africa where many other domes have been built for assistance programs.

Kaki Hunter and Doni Kiffmeyer (a couple) became enamored with earthbag construction after studying with Khalili, and worked on a variety of projects, both for themselves and for clients. In 2004 they wrote and got published another book, Earthbag Building: the Tools, Tricks and Techniques, based on their particular experience.

Kelly Hart (the author of this article) first began experimenting with earthbag building in 1997, after being exposed to the concept while producing his video program, A Sampler of Alternative Homes: Approaching Sustainable Architecture. He later documented his experience in actually building his own home in another program titled Building with Bags: How We Made Our Experimental Earthbag/Papercrete Home. Both of these programs are now available as DVD’s.

In the meantime, Nader Khalili was continuing the promotion of his “Superadobe” technique and eventually decided to patent the idea, which he obtained in the U. S. in 1999, using very general terms that cover using bags made of any material being filled with virtually any material, and combining these with barbed wired between the courses. While having made many public statements that this concept was his gift to humanity, he obviously wanted to capitalize on the potential economic reward.

Many of us who had been engaged in promoting earthbag building on our own were contacted by Khalili and asked to enter into contracts with him in order to continue our work. It didn’t take much research to discover that his patent could easily be disqualified because he had been publicizing his techniques through various media for at least four years before he even applied for his patent. Patent law clearly states that such publicity occurring prior to one year before the patent application would disqualify it for consideration.

So now the door is wide open for anyone to take this concept and run with it, and more people are doing so all the time, all over the world. While Khalili (and most of his students) have focused primarily on using the bags to form large adobe blocks, others have tried filling the bags with a variety of other materials, such as crushed volcanic rock, crushed coral, non-adobe soils, gravel, and rice hulls.

Earthbag building is unique among all other building technologies in that it can be either insulation or thermal mass, depending on what the bags are filled with. This is a very important distinction, because these characteristics of a wall greatly influence how comfortable, economical, and ecological any given system will be.

Safety is of prime concern with all building technologies, and much experimentation and testing has been done to establish guidelines for many ways of building. Khalili has established a relationship with the building department in Hesperia, California where CalEarth is located, an area where earthquakes are naturally a great danger. In 1993 live-load tests to simulate seismic, snow and wind loads were performed on a number of domed earthbag structures at CalEarth and these exceeded code requirements by 200%.

In 1995 dynamic and static load tests were performed on several prototypes for a planned Hesperia Museum and Nature Center to be constructed using Khalili’s Superadobe concepts with both dome and vault shapes. All of these tests exceeded ICBO and City of Hesperia requirements.

In 2006, at the request of Dr. Owen Geiger of the Geiger Research Institute of Sustainable Building, the Department of Civil and Mechanical Engineering of the U.S. Military Academy at West Point conducted several controlled and computer-monitored tests to determine the ability of polypropylene earthbags filled with sand, local soil, and rubble to withstand vertical loads. Their written report concluded that “overall, the earthbags show promise as a low cost building alternative. Very cheap, and easy to construct, they have proven durable under loads that will be seen in a single story residential home. More testing should prove the reliability and usefulness of earthbags.”

Despite the success of these tests, earthbag building concepts have yet to be incorporated into the International Residential Building Code. Obviously more enlightened acceptance of the demonstrated viability of earthbag building needs to occur!

It is difficult to know how many residences and other earthbag structures have been made at this point, probably hundreds if not thousands. Many of us have been promoting the technique for use as emergency shelters, and certainly some have been built for this reason. It is easy for folks to accept this way of building temporary shelters because it fits the historical model of sandbag use.

But many of us have also built substantial homes using earthbags, and in the process realized how truly versatile and sustainable the technique is. I wouldn’t be surprised if many of these earthbag homes are still standing long after their conventional counterparts built contemporaneously have disintegrated.

Recent years have seen a flourishing of organizations that gather people with common interests participate in do-it-yourself activities

In a reaction to the digital age, creative people are finding ways to build community in the real world to share knowledge, projects, and ideas. People are looking to the Internet to find outlets for active creativity, rather than merely passive entertainment or consumption.

Cases

The Make Lounge

North London’s Make Lounge brings arts and crafts into the 21st century. One-off workshops are delivered in a branded “drop-in” environment, attracting those looking to dabble in activities such as millinery, jewelery making, or knitting.

The School of Life

Located close to some of London’s top universities, The School of Life makes adult education accessible and cool. Opened in September 2008, the space features a shop that sells books, art, courses, vacation packages, and consultancy to those seeking intellectual adventure. Beneath the shop is an underground classroom that hosts regular courses across five central themes - work, play, family, politics and love.





Maker Fair

Dubbed “Woodstock for inventors,” Maker Fair is a two-day event for people who love to make things themselves. Everything from arts and crafts to engineering and science, sustainable design, food, and music are represented. The event is no small job for organizers Make Magazine and Crafts Magazine: the last Maker Fair attracted 65,000 people.

Trend Impact
Although the Internet may provide us with instant, free information, we still thrive on real-world human interactions. Creative people are going online to connect people with common offline interests.

• Explaining Innovation through Illustration: Google Chrome
  For more than a year the use of illustrations in order to ideate and visualize innovation both in products and services has been part of my Design Management seminars.

  While preparing for the international version of this seminar in Lucerne/CH in November this year together with my colleague Erik over from http://www.zilverinnovation.com I've been happily stumbling across Google's announcement to release a new G-branded browser built from scratch. However it wouldn't be Google if they would have chosen the ordinary road of explaining innovation with plain fact sheets. Instead they've chosen the format of a 'Comic' in order to illustrate the new approach and rich features of the web browser.

  Thanks to Scott McCloud I do now have a new (and better) example of great use of illustrations for business purposes.

  (tags: web design software scottmccloud google browser illustration innovation)

To see complete inspiration library for MODERN WHITE view slide show
Today is a special October 12 - I share with you a MODERN INSPIRATION DEDICATION in honor of today's birthday. The birthday of a talented designer, artist, visonary, spirit and loving friend DONNA TOPPINGS.

I got really fired up this morning after I read a great post in architect Greg La Vardera's blog. In "Our Remodern Movement - the tipping point?" Greg suggests that now might finally be the time for modernist homes to find a place in the mainstream. I really hope so. I see the momentum. And I believe in "tipping points." I know exactly what the tipping point was for me personally, the one thing that got me really excited about modern homes. I picked up a copy of Dwell at the newsstand for the first time, the April/May 2005 issue with Charlie Lazor's Flatpak house on the cover.

I had always been interested in homes. I always dreamed of something better and more exciting than the standard fare of suburban cul-de-sacs, though I wasn't totally hooked on modern yet. But when I saw this cover, with a real family in a cool-ass house, it was like a lightning bolt. I can't tell you how badly I'd like to live in a Flatpak. It's one of the top three contenders for me. It just fits me and my family so perfectly. When the time finally comes to really build a new home I will be giving them a call to talk.

It's funny though, how "weird" most people think modernist homes are. My mother said "you want to live in a white box?" with a look on her face that was pure disbelief. Talking houses with some neighbors I could detect their nervous smiles when I mentioned concrete and steel, as in "uh, okay, sure, as long as it's not next door to my house." And look at the real estate markets. That's all you need to know. You don't see a lot of developers building modernist spec homes. Just pick up a real estate magazine and thumb through it for a minute. How many cool modernist homes will you find in the listings. Maybe one or two in a hundred page book. And they're mostly really big, expensive houses, probably built in the eighties after watching too many episodes of Miami Vice. Good, simple, modern homes for real families are hard to come by. Your best bet is a fifties ranch. Even those are a minority in the market compared to the grand total of everything else.

But I think Greg is right. This is the right time. Dwell has been so successful that some other similar publications have started to appear. Blogs like mine are popping up like daisies. Sarah Susanka's "Not So Big House" movement has a lot of followers (because it makes a lot of sense). Or consider John Brown's Slow Home Movement. And green is suddenly king. People finally realize that their choices have a real impact. Now is definitely the time of Less is More, and modernism fits that bill perfectly.

Probably the biggest helper in all of this, in my opinion, is going to be the bursting of the real estate bubble. I say that for one simple reason: it will make people change their view as to what their home really is - a home to live in and not an investment to make a fortune off of. I really believe that people won't/can't build what they really want because they are too hung up on resale value and growing massive equity. I don't know if this attitude caused the housing bubble or vice versa, but either way they combine to create an effect where the resultant high cost of housing distorts our views, closes our minds to new ideas, prices lots of people out of the market for a good home, and places too much power in the hands of developers, not in the hands of consumers where it should be. And so, here we are. With the bubble busting and home prices correcting I think we may also see home buyers making very different decisions about what they want to live in. I know this is the case for my wife and I, and I hope, at least, that this is the case for others.

It's definitely time for America to focus its attention on things like better homes, greener communities, reliable energy, even better communications technology, education and health care. These are the things that make up the infrastructure of this country. We won't have to worry about foreign threats for long if we allow ourselves to fall apart from the inside.

This whole country is at a tipping point, or near one. Modern homes are just a tiny, tiny part of that. We can choose a better way to live without giving up all the really great things we already enjoy.

Better living through design. Work smarter, not harder. Find the holistic solutions.

We can do it.

On Saturday I was hanging around the architecture section of my local Barnes & Noble, looking for something new. I found a nice book on houses by Tom Kundig of Olson Sundberg Kundig Allen Architects. I also just caught this post on Shedworking covering several of the firm's brilliant cabin-like houses.


I resisted buying the book, though I'd really like to have it. It's very nice and Kundig's work is amazing. The house on the cover, Chicken Point Cabin, has been shown everywhere, and for good reason. It's pretty spectacular, and that giant, tilting window and the unusual mechanical folly for opening it are sublime.


Visiting the OSKA site, I found that the house I liked most wasn't one of the groovy cabins I'd spotted in a lot of the blogs and architecture mags. I was taken by the "The Brain," a fascinating concrete monolith built for a filmmaker.

"The form is essentially a cast-in-place concrete box, intended to be a strong yet neutral background that provides complete flexibility to adapt the space at will." - OSKA site

That's wonderful. I love the way the house rests on its site, half hidden, with creeping vines growing all over it. I hate big ugly garages hanging off the side of a house, parasitic, distorting proportions, so I was delighted to see this house with the garages tucked neatly underneath, buried into the slope of the landscape. No yard either - excellent!



The austere concrete exterior belies a more playful space inside: wonderful bookshelves (just look at 'em!), interesting lighting, a fireman's pole, and an amusing custom staircase.




Yes, this is a house I can see myself living in. The only exception I take with it, and with most Kundig houses frankly, is that they all look like bachelor pads. I'm married with children. But I think the wife and kids could adapt. Who wouldn't want to live in a house with a fireman's pole?

_____________________________________________________
Addendum:

I should have pointed out this very good Seattle Times article about "The Brain." I've realized since writing this post that "The Brain" is a garage/studio, not intended to be a residence. Thanks to those who left comments pointing that out. It is also worth noting that Kundig received an AIA award for "The Brain" in 2004.

Oh well, even though it's not technically a house I'm still very inspired by it!

Image credits - Amazon listing (book), OSKA Architects site

Just a couple of quick things:

The wonderful blog DO Research has closed shop - it is already missed. The upside is they've bought land and are building a Flatpak. I am wildly jealous!

Read the story behind the sea container Holyoke Cabin on the Hive Modular blog. So cool.

Skinny Japanese Houses on eye candy (via Things Magazine). Only in Japan [sigh].

The amazingly hip Alan Family Happy New House is complete. Check it out in The New York Times. It turned out just like the renderings - very, very cool. It shows you just how much you can do with a remodel.

I just picked up a good book, Small Eco-houses. Loaded with interesting, green, modern homes from all over the world. Two thumbs up!

Modern farmhouse sounds like an oxymoron, but I've seen more than a few great looking modernist takes on the American homestead. One of my favorites is Farmhouse One, by the architecture firm of Durkee, Brown, Viveiros and Werenfels. It's a simple, traditionally inspired Rhode Island farmhouse with modern twists. Take a look.




And if you're in to modern farmhouses you'll also be pleased to know there's a great blog dedicated to the genre - the appropriately named Farmhouse Modern. It's definitely worth a look (I found it on the LiveModern Blog Directory, where Future House Now is also listed).

If you want to completely overdose on cool modern farmhouses, pick up the book Farm Houses: The New Style by Neill Heath. It features the houses I mentioned above, and many more, in 185 full color pages. Great book.



Image credits - Durkee, Brown, Viveiros & Werenfels site, Amazon.com Listing

it won’t take you long to figure out that dolan geiman’s chicago place isn’t what we typically feature in our sneak peeks. but looking through his images and reading through his descriptions felt like i was unlocking a treasure chest full of great stories and memories into the world of dolan geiman. it’s funny to think about where everything we own comes from and the stories behind it. and it’s very clear from dolan’s work how his surroundings inspire him. be sure to click here for more full-sized images, with complete descriptions, and you can find more of his work here (psst…there’s a sale!) and his blog here with all sorts of fun stuff he has in the works. [thanks dolan and ali!] -anne

[Above: This is the area I refer to as “the waiting room”.  This is where my pal Chris Nightengale, fashion photographer extraordinaire, does some of his shoots. The mint colored chest of drawers is entirely metal and was a gift from my friend Denny, who always has been a wonderful inspiration in my life. He lugged this heavy thing to me when I was down on my luck and living in an unheated rat-hole apartment in Virginia. Now it looks a little better, as does my luck.  I found the globe in a dumpster in Charleston, South Caroline, and the artwork, Jazz Atlas (2008), is one of my collage constructions made from magazines I found in old farm houses. [Photo credit: David Schalliol]

Yours truly at work. . . This is the Art Machine. There is a long story behind the Art Machine, but essentially I made this out of old doors and found objects from a soon-to-be-demolished house I was living in when I first moved to Chicago.  Hockshop refers to the name of my previous studio and gallery in the Pilsen neighborhood of Chicago. Under the moniker Hockshop, the Art Machine debuted in Chicago during a yacht-based art show organized by Bridge Magazine (now called Bridge Art Fair, they produce expositions in London, Miami, New York, and elsewhere). The top of the Art Machine is an old canvas tent that my granddad used when hunting in Canada and which I screenprinted with various images. The little squares of metal on the front are hand-cut signs I grabbed in a scrap yard in Stuarts Draft, Virginia. The little Panel Paintings, on the wall behind the Art Machine, are the staple of my art business. I make about 1000 of these things a year, out of recycled wood, recycled paint, and water-based silkscreen ink.  This is my carnival area, I like to say, because the combination of the Art Machine and the Panel Paintings presents a nice sideshow feel. [Photo credit: David Schalliol]

This is a cabin-like installation just inside the front entrance of my studio.  I created this out of salvaged wood, found billboards, and old signs I’ve found along the road driving to and from art fairs. The raw wood slats were given to me by my pals over at Circa Ceramics who were using them as shelving. I found the deer head while exploring an abandoned barn in Ohio. I saw one of the antlers sticking out of the floorboards. The rusted milk can was used by my dad when he milked cows as a kid. The old glass bottles adorning my bottle tree surfaced outside my warehouse building when the City dug up the cobblestone street in preparation for resurfacing the road. The green bucket is full of shotgun shells I gathered from a shooting range in southern Illinois. The buoys have been collected from various coastal towns including Key West, Cape Cod, and New Orleans. I grabbed the screen door from an abandoned general store in Virginia, and I bought the lentil above the door at a yard sale here in Chicago for only five dollars. I’ve started collecting green and greenish-blue boxes from abandoned warehouses here in Chicago. [Photo credit: David Schalliol]

This is the back side of the entryway installation.  This is where I feel most like a mad scientist. And yes, in case you’re wondering, there is a whiskey flask in the bottom drawer. I found the chair in an old farm house in North Carolina and screenprinted the back and seat myself. The desk was left in the basement of my last apartment and could kill an elephant if it fell on it. I had to use a truck jack and three retired football players to transport the desk when we moved into this space. The framed oil painting on the floor was hanging in my grandma’s den when I was a kid. She was trying to throw it out when I intercepted it.  The red dolly in the corner I bartered from an old (semi) drunk barber for two six-packs of Old Style beer. I think he got the better deal, but at least it looks cool. I snagged the green metal hanging light from a warehouse here in Chicago. Above my desk is one of my inspiration clotheslines. I’ve found this is the best way for me to display various ideas and my notes to myself. The little white paintbrush holder sitting on my desk with the face on it is a ceramic mug made by my pal Ed Brownlee. Ed is about two pints away from being mistaken for a criminal, but he’s a damn good artist and has an enormous heart. [Photo credit: David Schalliol]

Our building has a green roof, which Ali helped plant, and this is where the plants were stored before they were given the outdoor penthouse suite. The equipment featured in the photo is one of our landlord’s lathes; he collects old, industrial machinery amongst other things.

This is my little shrine to Johnny Cash. On the day Johnny Cash passed away, I was getting ready for an opening at Unit B Gallery, formerly in Chicago and now in Austin. The work I was showing was loaded with connotations of death and resurrection and was called the Tombsigns of St Emmeline. The synchronicity of the event was really overwhelming and would have seemed spooky, except that I seem to attract energy like that and I am open to it. The week before I was eating pizza in St Louis and some kid was skateboarding nearby with a boom box and he was playing Johnny Cash’s last recording. When I asked him about it, he said he didn’t know it was Johnny Cash, and that he had just found the tape under a tree and liked the sound. I found the whiskey jug on the bottle tree in the dirt behind the warehouse. The butterflies are screenprinted on wood and were part of a spring window display for a local shoe store . . . I use one corner of the studio for staging photos, both for Etsy and for print brochures. The mantel was a gift from a T-shirt printer (48 Industries) in the building, a fellow scavenger. [Photo credit: David Schalliol]

Stuff I love: plastic dice, old painted nail, orange train ticket to California (1898), list of numbers in Spanish, green feed tag, hand-drawn family album for collage, Virginia text from a high school Math book cover. [Photo credit: David Schalliol]

In this entryway installation close-up, the fresh eggs (fresh eyes) sign was a studio warming gift passed on to me from my buddy, artist Michael Merck, who grabbed it from a little Mexican street cart.  I found the paintbrush hanging on a hook in a bathroom of a warehouse I was occupying while living in Virginia. It’s the only paintbrush I own that’s never been used for painting.  Below the brush is a catfish sinker I bought when I went fishing in Kentucky last year.  The rooster painting, Dirt Road Series IX, is one of my own, silkscreen and acrylic on recycled wood available here. He’s a good pet and doesn’t eat food or make any noise.  He just sits there lookin’ pretty. The books to the left of the rooster are my sketchbooks.  I use old books for my sketchbooks, pasting ideas and collage materials into the existing pages, instead of buying new white-paged, sterile sketchbooks. I think it’s important to be surrounded by many different textures, so I started collecting the softballs over the past four or five years. Almost every time I make a trip down to a river, I find softballs stuck in leftover flood debris and so I started saving them in this locker room bin. If you like metal baskets like this one, you can find some here. The blue oar is a mystery. I found it one night in the middle of the road while I was driving through West Virginia. The strange part was that one end of the oar was tied to a tennis shoe.  I kept the oar; the shoe didn’t fit, so I left it. Above the fresh eggs (fresh eyes) sign is a wooden gun I made from a piece of billboard I found in Indiana and then adorned with little metal objects from an old trade school parking lot. Finally, the rooster painting is sitting on an old hen crate, used by my granddad to take chickens to market. Ali won’t let me get chickens yet, but I’m working on it. [Photo credit: Kara Elliott-Ortega]

Included in this shot are an Ed Brownlee mug (paintbrush holder), comic book collage materials, old picture frames found in a barn in Kentucky, a bluebird collage in progress, and a couple print proofs. Used paint cans, thrift store mugs, and Quaker Oats bins are used to hold brushes, pens, and markers.[Photo credit: Kara Elliott-Ortega]

On my recent trip to London for the Design Festival, I did not limit my search for aesthetics to home interiors and accessories. I stopped in a bookstore and checked in on some British cookbooks that are easier to find in the UK than in the US like Tamasin Day-Lewis, Leith’s Cooking School series, and the new Gordon Ramsay Cooking for Friends. Ditte Isager is the photographer who shot Gordon Ramsay’s new book, and I will admit that the photos sold the book. I am so enchanted by Ditte’s work, that I keep the book on my bedside table to look at before going to sleep so I’ll have nice dreams! Ditte’s signature photographic style is unmistakable and totally addictive. Her recipe for a fruit meringue cake looks fancy but is simple to make. Don’t be afraid of meringue! It will be your new friend! Click here for the full recipe or just click “read more” below. -Kristina

About Ditte: Ditte Isager was born and raised in Copenhagen. She was educated at Danish technical school of photography and Schiller studio and is now living in NYC. Specialized in interiors, travel, and food, her clients include Gourmet, Traveler, Domino, Martha Stewart, Gordon Ramsey, Fritz Hansen, to name a few.

Fruit Meringue Cake

Meringues
2 egg whites
1/2 teaspoon vinegar
½ cup sugar

For topping:
whip cream
fruit or berries, whatever you feel like

1. Whip the egg whites, vinegar and sugar for around 5 min to it is thick and shiny.
2. Put a little bit of flour on baking paper and make a circle around 20 cm in diameter with the whipped egg whites.

3. Bake it at 305 degrees (F) for around an hour to it is crisp, turn off the oven and leave the meringues there until it is cold.
4. Whip the cream, you can add some berries to the cream too, and decorate the cake with whipped cream and berries

Why Ditte chose this recipe: This is my favorite cake soooooo easy and so delicious! I always make it for birthdays, dessert when friends come over for dinner ………any occasion.

Images are 4×5 polaroids taken with a Linhoff camera.

• On the value of dissatisfaction
  Well, in contrast to the usual news that happiness is THE key to a better living I found that this article share some interesting sources on quite the contrary. Similarly have you ever thought about how our world would look/feel like if everything is 'designed' well? For me this triggers quite a few follow up questions like: How about Design's role as 'styling' then in contrast to 'Design' as a source for innovation? And re-phrasing Naish's words: 'Bad Design is the driver of human endeavour'! What do you think?
  (tags: design happiness designthinking research Book Review)