Art that can fit into the palm of your hand

I really like this pocket-sized mural by street artist D*Face—his new collaboration with Zippo. From a Wonderland Magazine interview with the artist:

I'm typically not a very "mood-board" kind of person but it certainly made for an interesting challenge to create an artwork that fit both the wall and the lighter simultaneously. The stripes graphic worked nicely because you’ll notice the top stripe of the head pops off when you flick the top of the lighter – I liked the idea of the head and the flame being a kind of hidden alternate top piece to the design – setting my head alight or the ’spark’ inside my head… every time you use it seemed amusing too.

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She Knows You’re Looking

To be honest, the first thing I noticed in these portraits wasn’t the texture, the lighting, or the color palette. It was her. Who is she? Is she real, or is she imaginary? Does she have an Instagram? I was hooked right away. I mean, I’m a guy. So yeah, I felt something at once. If you caught yourself staring a little longer too, don’t worry. You’re not alone. In most of these Roberto Martin Sing pieces, she looks straight at you. Her gaze isn't aggressive, but it isn't shy either. It's more like she's saying, “Hi. I know you’re looking. It’s fine.” In one painting, the young woman is rising from the water with full nymph energy. Men have been falling for this stuff since ancient Greece. She’s the goddess in the forest or the woman in the lake. There’s soft light, glowing skin, and zero real-world problems. She looks very feminine without being flashy. Inviting without trying too hard. And you can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking. The work moves between contempora...

Where Bad Space and Good Music Collided

My first apartment was in Malate, and calling it “small” would be generous. I lived there with two girls and one guy, and to this day, I genuinely don’t know how we all fit. It felt like a magic trick. Or a health hazard. We were a musical mess. One roommate lived and breathed ’70s classics. Another was permanently blasting Korn and Slipknot. One survived solely on cheesy love songs. And me? I was floating somewhere between new wave and folk rock, pretending that made sense. Somehow, despite the noise and the chaos, we all lived together in this weird, mismatched harmony. No murders. No lawsuits. A win, honestly. My music taste now is nothing like it was in my twenties. Not even close. But I’ll always be grateful to Jacqueline for introducing me to this song in particular. It was playing when I woke up from a very memorable sleep in 2002. I was 21, half-awake, probably confused about life, and that song stuck. It still hasn’t let go.

finding cain

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