Julius Bissier
Gimpel Fils, London, 1963. Exhibition: May-June 1963
Art Books & Ephemera
Gimpel Fils, London, 1963. Exhibition: May-June 1963
Art Books & Ephemera
❤3
1) Anna Reivilä, Bond #22, 2015
2) Anna Reivilä, Bond #12, 2015
2) Anna Reivilä, Bond #12, 2015
❤4
You can't give away the virtues
these days, and I have none
to offer anyway.
Only these silent hands,
their heavy weakness,
their inscrutable signs.
*
But is it the emptiness
of the left hand that you want,
or the emptiness
of the right?
One of them holds the pick.
One of them presses down
on the strings. And one of them stretches
without ever daring to touch
to stroke to caress
the beloved's neck.
*
Four thousand years ago
we all inhabited
the same tiny bulletproof egg.
*
Were you two close?
someone asked,
and I replied yes,
I was too close.
— Troy Jollimore, from "Going Viral", Syllabus of Errors
these days, and I have none
to offer anyway.
Only these silent hands,
their heavy weakness,
their inscrutable signs.
*
But is it the emptiness
of the left hand that you want,
or the emptiness
of the right?
One of them holds the pick.
One of them presses down
on the strings. And one of them stretches
without ever daring to touch
to stroke to caress
the beloved's neck.
*
Four thousand years ago
we all inhabited
the same tiny bulletproof egg.
*
Were you two close?
someone asked,
and I replied yes,
I was too close.
— Troy Jollimore, from "Going Viral", Syllabus of Errors
❤3
Britton Daniel
Dyslexia
2015
“The intention is that a reader has to take their time to decipher which letters are used in words and sentences, slowing them down to the speed of someone with dyslexia.
[…]
The project began as a self-initiated graphic design assignment during Britton's studies at the London College of Communication, for which he decided to apply his experiences of dyslexia to help others understand some of the symptoms.
"You can't skim through, you have to pick out and read each individual letter, then piece together the words, then sentences and paragraphs," Britton said. "The whole process of reading is 10 times slower, similar to that of a dyslexic reader, to recreate the embarrassment of reading with everyday type."
— Dan Howarth,
Dan Britton's typeface recreates the frustration of reading with dyslexia, article for Dazeen
[x]
Dyslexia
2015
“The intention is that a reader has to take their time to decipher which letters are used in words and sentences, slowing them down to the speed of someone with dyslexia.
[…]
The project began as a self-initiated graphic design assignment during Britton's studies at the London College of Communication, for which he decided to apply his experiences of dyslexia to help others understand some of the symptoms.
"You can't skim through, you have to pick out and read each individual letter, then piece together the words, then sentences and paragraphs," Britton said. "The whole process of reading is 10 times slower, similar to that of a dyslexic reader, to recreate the embarrassment of reading with everyday type."
— Dan Howarth,
Dan Britton's typeface recreates the frustration of reading with dyslexia, article for Dazeen
[x]
❤4👍1
What did I do?
Seminated the night, as though
there could be others, more nocturnal than
this one.
Bird flight, stone flight, a thousand
described routes. Glances, purloined and plucked. The sea,
tasted, drunk away, dreamed away. An hour
soul-eclipsed. The next, an autumn light,
offered up to a blind
feeling which came that way. Others, many,
with no place but their own heavy centres: glimpsed and avoided.
Foundlings, stars,
black, full of language: named after an oath which silence annulled.
And once (when? that too is forgotten):
felt the barb
where my pulse dared the counter-beat.
Paul Celan, All Souls, trans. Michael Hamburger, from Poetry (December 1971)
Seminated the night, as though
there could be others, more nocturnal than
this one.
Bird flight, stone flight, a thousand
described routes. Glances, purloined and plucked. The sea,
tasted, drunk away, dreamed away. An hour
soul-eclipsed. The next, an autumn light,
offered up to a blind
feeling which came that way. Others, many,
with no place but their own heavy centres: glimpsed and avoided.
Foundlings, stars,
black, full of language: named after an oath which silence annulled.
And once (when? that too is forgotten):
felt the barb
where my pulse dared the counter-beat.
Paul Celan, All Souls, trans. Michael Hamburger, from Poetry (December 1971)
❤2