archive for June of 2008
A cool post on pink tentacle challenged me...
"Dr. Norihiko Ishikawa of the Department of Telesurgery and Geomedicine at the University of Kanazawa demonstrates the precision of the daVinci Surgical System by using the device’s remote-control robot arms to fold a penny-sized origami crane."
That's pretty cool, but I knew I could do better, even with my giant human-sized fingers. So I did one that's about half the size of a dime.
More pics here:
I like distracting myself at a bar or meeting folding small things. There's usually a wrapper or something around to work with.
Inspiration: Gaff the paper folder in Blade Runner.
There are many more astoundingly small origami examples on flickr:
Last weekend we headed out to Lind, WA (near Moses Lake) to see the Combine Demolition Derby. Our friends Heather and Chris knew the folks who own the Devore Motel, where a bunch of people were crashing. We had no idea what to expect.
It was an incredible time, burned into my memory... sweet, surreal, dangerous, dusty. Not wanting to impose (no open rooms at the Devore, but there was a school bus that might have extra space), we instead stayed at a little motel in Ritzville, a town about 15 minutes away from Lind, and rolled in Friday night. We knew we were off to a good start when we saw all the Harleys parked next to our room and the magic fingers machine next to the bed.
Saturday morning we awoke to brilliant sun. We headed to Lind, windows down, warm desert air blowing through our hair. The Devore Motel in Lind was home base. It has a main building on one side of the street, and a little ranch-style row of rooms on the other side of the street, ringing an empty lot with a bunch of living room furniture, a fully equipped sound stage, a school bus (extra beds), a cinderblock barbeque, and an old yellow lab named Jake. That morning people were just getting up after a long night of partying. Potatoes were sizzling in bacon fat on the outdoor griddle. We were offered hot cups of espresso, and encouraged to fry up whatever we wanted. Rick Klu was riding his bike around, as other friends emerged from their rooms, blinking, holding out empty cups to be filled with bloody marys.