My father has died and in my hand are his remains—ashes pressed and fired into a small, flattish cube—and I’m laboring to insert him into something so he sits flush. He always wished to be a geometric form (so often did he rail against “the tyranny of the organic”) so I could tell myself he’d be happy, but he also hated bric-a-brac and I think right now he’d qualify, being a small object with no function. Better to join him with a nice flat plane. Shim up a gap on a sleek modernist home. … [Read more...] about Ornament and Crime