Marco Lorenzetti
From the Upon My Way To Sleep series
2022
From the Upon My Way To Sleep series
2022
❤2
Masood Kamandy
Letter to John Cage
2011
“A drawing algorithm listens to John Cage's Music of Changes and "pens" a letter to him.”
[x]
Letter to John Cage
2011
“A drawing algorithm listens to John Cage's Music of Changes and "pens" a letter to him.”
[x]
❤11
“Book covers are not only advertisements for the books themselves but also advertisements for the kinds of readers we imagine ourselves as being, or would like to be. There is an intimate connection between what we read and who we are, between shelves and selves. Finish reading a book, and its cover serves as a souvenir commemorating a transportive reading experience. Finish reading an especially difficult book, and its cover functions more like a trophy awarded for intellectual labor. Carry a book around in public, and its cover can betray you to other people who will make assumptions about you. It feels risky to be so exposed, but at times such assumptions are welcome, as when a book cover, flashed across a crowded subway car, operates like a secret handshake with another person reading the same.”
— Peter Mendelsund and David J. Alworth, The Look of the Book: Jackets, Covers, and Art at the Edges of Literature
— Peter Mendelsund and David J. Alworth, The Look of the Book: Jackets, Covers, and Art at the Edges of Literature
❤10
Peter Moore
Nam June Paik performing "Violin with String" (1961) at the Twelfth Annual New York Avant Garde Festival, Floyd Bennett Field
New York, 1975
[x]
Nam June Paik performing "Violin with String" (1961) at the Twelfth Annual New York Avant Garde Festival, Floyd Bennett Field
New York, 1975
[x]
❤10🔥2
"La Pologne? La Pologne? Isn't it terribly cold there?" she asked, and then sighed with relief. So many countries have been turning up lately that the safest thing to talk about is climate.
"Madame," I want to reply, "my people's poets do all their writing in mittens. I don't mean to imply that they never remove them; they do, indeed, if the moon is warm enough. In stanzas composed of raucous whooping, for only such can drown the windstorms' constant roar, they glorify the simple lives of our walrus herders. Our Classicists engrave their odes with inky icicles on trampled snowdrifts.
The rest, our Decadents, bewail their fate with snowflakes instead of tears. He who wishes to drown himself must have an ax at hand to cut the ice. Oh, madame, dearest madame."
That's what I mean to say. But I've forgotten the word for walrus in French. And I'm not sure of icicle and ax.
"La Pologne? La Pologne? Isn't it terribly cold there?"
"Pas du tout, " I answer icily.”
Wisława Szymborska, Vocabulary, from Grain of Sand: Selected Poems, trans. Stanisław Barańczak, Clare Cavanagh
"Madame," I want to reply, "my people's poets do all their writing in mittens. I don't mean to imply that they never remove them; they do, indeed, if the moon is warm enough. In stanzas composed of raucous whooping, for only such can drown the windstorms' constant roar, they glorify the simple lives of our walrus herders. Our Classicists engrave their odes with inky icicles on trampled snowdrifts.
The rest, our Decadents, bewail their fate with snowflakes instead of tears. He who wishes to drown himself must have an ax at hand to cut the ice. Oh, madame, dearest madame."
That's what I mean to say. But I've forgotten the word for walrus in French. And I'm not sure of icicle and ax.
"La Pologne? La Pologne? Isn't it terribly cold there?"
"Pas du tout, " I answer icily.”
Wisława Szymborska, Vocabulary, from Grain of Sand: Selected Poems, trans. Stanisław Barańczak, Clare Cavanagh
❤7