I get this fancy schmancy design magazine

called Dwell.  I have absolutely no idea why I receive it.  It must be one of those publications that subsists purely on advertising and therefore doesn't need to charge for a subscription.  I figure they go through the phone book and point randomly at names to decide where to send it.  I won that lottery.  Yippee!

I adore this mag.  I've never considered myself a design person.  I do love art though.  I have a minor in Art History and just enjoy learning about art and its context.  I never really looked at design as art.  It simply was never presented to me in that way and I never independently considered it as such.  This magazine has truly opened my eyes.

However, like San Andreas, I can find the fault in anything.  Well, not really a fault.  More of an oddity.  A cool oddity.  One that made me go "hmm...".   In the back of the mag are ads.  They are typically for household items, but also anything that can be marketed as good design so clothes and other such things are included. The item that caught my eye though was a painting.

Not OJ Simpson's house.

What you're looking at there folks is someone's DNA.  Nope, not the invisible cells floating around.  The paintings on the wall are prints of a PCR I presume.  What is a PCR?  Check here if you really care: Polymerase Chain Reaction.  I know a bit about it as my background is biology and we did a butt load of these in our labs.  But essentially that print is the results of running a PCR with an individual's cells.  The company sends you a kit to gather the cells.  I amuse myself by imagining a box with a big index finger that you have to shove up your backside.  FAQ- "Is the finger up the bum the only way to collect my DNA?" "We value our customers.  While probing the chocolate starfish isn't the only way to collect your DNA, we think it's the best."

I for one think these prints are awesome.  However, I am ashamed that I think so.  Yes, there is beauty in science.  But really? Why not just shit on a canvas and frame it?  Or piss in a vase and stick it on the coffee table?  Are we that obsessed with ourselves that we must immortalize the blueprint of our own body?  That sweaty butt print on the adirondack outside isn't enough?

I wish I had thought of these items because I could be making loads of money with a very simple lab technique.  But then again, I'm going to open the "shit on a shingle" design shop.  I'll let you know when I'm ready to take orders.


Until then, if you want to smear yourself on your walls do visit this website DNA Portraits™