Charles Counts

Untitled, by Charles Counts, made by Rubynelle Counts and members of the New Salem Community, c. 1965

source: Robert Shaw, The Art Quilt (Hugh Lauter Levin Associates, Inc., 1997)

“Log Cabin” blocks arranged in a pattern called “Straight Furrow.” Pennsylvania. ca. 1890. Cotton. 74 x 74

from Jonathan Holstein's Abstract Design in American Quilts: A Biography of an Exhibition (Louisville, KY: The Kentucky Quilt Project Inc, 1991)

Stephen Sollins

stephen-sollins-elegy-tulips-1.jpg

Elergy (Tulips), 2003 (source: Arthur Roger Gallery)

Stephen Sollins
Elergy (Tulips), 2003
embroidery and removed embroidery
49.5 x 53.25 inches

"History of the Sky aims to convey the rhythms of the weather, the lengthening and shortening of days, and other atmospheric events on an immediate level. By recording the sky above the Exploratorium, a museum located at the edge of San Francisco Bay, programmer slash artists Ken Murphy has captured the clouds, fog, wind, and rain to form a rich visual texture, as sunrises and sunsets cascade across the screen. The 6-minute movie is based on a huge collection of images, which were captured at a 10 seconds interval. The visualization consists of a grid of 360 (so almost 365) unique movies, each representing one day of the year, organized chronologically, and cycling in parallel through a single 24-hour period." (via Information Aesthetics)

Jenny Odell's satellite collections

Satellite Collections,digital prints, 2009-2011

Jenny Odell: "In all of my prints, I collect things that I've cut out from Google Satellite View-- parking lots, silos, landflls, waste ponds. The view from a satellite is not a human one, nor is it one we were ever really meant to see. But it is precisely from this inhuman point of view that we are able to read our own humanity, in all of its tiny, reliably repetitive marks upon the face of the earth. From this view, the lines that make up basketball courts and the scattered blue rectangles of swimming pools become like hieroglyphs that read: people were here. At the same time, like any photograph, satellite imagery is also immediately an image of the past. That is, to look at satellite imagery is to look not only down upon ourselves but back in time, even if only by a matter of hours or days. In recording the moment at which things as bizarre as water parks and racetracks covered the earth, the photograph also implies that moment's own passing, encoding each tiny structure with vulnerability and pre-emptive nostagia. My desire to collect these pieces stems not only from the fascination of any collector but from a wish to save these low-resolution, sporadically-updated pixels--these strange pictures of ourselves--from time and the ephemerality of the internet. (source; found this project thanks to Design Sponge)