'IN AN EFFORT TO GET PEOPLE TO LOOK INTO EACH OTHERS' EYES MORE, THE GOVERNMENT HAS DECIDED TO ALLOT EACH PERSON EXACTLY ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN WORDS PER DAY.
WHEN THE PHONE RINGS, I PUT IT TO MY EAR WITHOUT SAYING HELLO. IN THE RESTAURANT, I POINT AT CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP. I AM ADJUSTING WELL TO THE NEW WAY.
LATE AT NIGHT, I CALL MY LONG-DISTANCE LOVER AND PROUDLY SAY: I ONLY USED FIFTY-NINE WORDS TODAY, I SAVED THE REST FOR YOU. WHEN SHE DOESN'T RESPOND, I KNOW SHE'S USED UP ALL HER WORDS, SO I SLOWLY WHISPER "I LOVE YOU" THIRTY-TWO AND A THIRD TIMES.
AFTER THAT, WE JUST SIT ON THE LINE AND LISTEN TO EACH OTHER BREATHE.'
2010-10-13
THE CALENDER HUNG ITSELF
'DOES HE KISS YOUR EYELIDS IN THE MORNING WHEN YOU START TO RAISE YOUR HEAD? AND DOES HE SING TO YOU INCESSANTLY FROM THE SPACE BETWEEN YOUR BED AND WALL? DOES HE WALK AROUND ALL DAY AT SCHOOL WITH HIS FEET INSIDE YOUR SHOES? LOOKING DOWN EVERY FEW STEPS TO PRETEND HE WALKS WITH YOU. OH, DOES HE KNOW THAT PLACE BELOW YOUR NECK THAT IS YOUR FAVORITE TO BE TOUCHES, AND DOES HE CRY THROUGH BROKEN SENTENCES THAT I LOVE YOU FAR TOO MUCH? DOES HE LAY AWAKE LISTENING TO YOUR BREATH? WORRIED YOU SMOKE TOO MANY CIGARETTES.'
2010-10-07
2010-10-06
Charles Bukowski
Somebody at one of these places [...] asked me: "What do you do? How do you write, create?" You don't, I told them. You don't try. That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like its looks you make a pet out of it.
2010-10-05
2010-09-30
2010-09-29
Jean-Paul Gautier S/S 1994.
I love the way this show is so real.
So much character and excitement.
Great faces, awesome audience...!
I love the 90ies.#Things just seemed so much more relaxed and unpretentious back then!
So much character and excitement.
Great faces, awesome audience...!
I love the 90ies.#Things just seemed so much more relaxed and unpretentious back then!
2010-09-28
how an artist must dress.
How Artists Must Dress
Artists must first of all distinguish themselves from members of the adjacent professional classes typically present at art world events: dealers, critics, curators, and caterers. They must second of all take care not to look like artists. This double negation founds the generative logic of artists fashion.
The relationship between an artist s work and attire should not take the form of a direct visual analogy. A stripe painter may not wear stripes.
The relationship between an artists work and attire should function in the manner of a dialectic, in which the discrepancy between the personal appearance of the artist and the appearance of her work is resolved into a higher conceptual unity. An artist s attire should open her work to a wider range of interpretive possibilities.
The artist s sartorial choices are subject to the same hermeneutic operations as are his work. When dressing, an artist should imagine a five-paragraph review of his clothe the attitudes and intentions they reveal, their topicality, their relationship to history, the extent to which they challenge or endorse, subvert or affirm dominant forms of fashion written by a critic he detests.
Communicating an attitude of complete indifference to one s personal appearance is only achievable through a process of self-reflexive critique bordering on the obsessive. Artists who are in reality oblivious to how they dress never achieve this effect.
Whereas a dealer must signal, in wardrobe, a sympathy to the tastes and tendencies of the collector class, an artist is under no obligation to endorse these. Rather, the task of the artist with regard to fashion is to interrogate the relationship between cost and value as it pertains to clothing, and, by analogy, to artworks.
An artist compensates for a limited wardrobe budget by making creative and entertaining clothing choices, much in the way that a dog compensates for a lack of speech through vigorous barking.
Artists are not only permitted but are in fact required to be underdressed at formal institutional functions. But egregious slovenliness without regard to context is a childish ploy, easily seen through.
An artist may dress like a member of the proletariat, but should not imagine he is fooling anyone.
The affluent artist may make a gesture of class solidarity by dressing poorly. She is advised to keep in mind that, at an art opening, the best way to spot an heiress is to look for a destitute schizophrenic. Middle-class or working-class artists, the destitute, and the schizophrenic can use this principle to their social advantage.
The extension of fashion into the violation of norms of personal hygiene and basic grooming constitutes the final arena for radicalism in artists fashion.
Brave, fragrant souls! You will be admired from a distance.
Artists must first of all distinguish themselves from members of the adjacent professional classes typically present at art world events: dealers, critics, curators, and caterers. They must second of all take care not to look like artists. This double negation founds the generative logic of artists fashion.
The relationship between an artist s work and attire should not take the form of a direct visual analogy. A stripe painter may not wear stripes.
The relationship between an artists work and attire should function in the manner of a dialectic, in which the discrepancy between the personal appearance of the artist and the appearance of her work is resolved into a higher conceptual unity. An artist s attire should open her work to a wider range of interpretive possibilities.
The artist s sartorial choices are subject to the same hermeneutic operations as are his work. When dressing, an artist should imagine a five-paragraph review of his clothe the attitudes and intentions they reveal, their topicality, their relationship to history, the extent to which they challenge or endorse, subvert or affirm dominant forms of fashion written by a critic he detests.
Communicating an attitude of complete indifference to one s personal appearance is only achievable through a process of self-reflexive critique bordering on the obsessive. Artists who are in reality oblivious to how they dress never achieve this effect.
Whereas a dealer must signal, in wardrobe, a sympathy to the tastes and tendencies of the collector class, an artist is under no obligation to endorse these. Rather, the task of the artist with regard to fashion is to interrogate the relationship between cost and value as it pertains to clothing, and, by analogy, to artworks.
An artist compensates for a limited wardrobe budget by making creative and entertaining clothing choices, much in the way that a dog compensates for a lack of speech through vigorous barking.
Artists are not only permitted but are in fact required to be underdressed at formal institutional functions. But egregious slovenliness without regard to context is a childish ploy, easily seen through.
An artist may dress like a member of the proletariat, but should not imagine he is fooling anyone.
The affluent artist may make a gesture of class solidarity by dressing poorly. She is advised to keep in mind that, at an art opening, the best way to spot an heiress is to look for a destitute schizophrenic. Middle-class or working-class artists, the destitute, and the schizophrenic can use this principle to their social advantage.
The extension of fashion into the violation of norms of personal hygiene and basic grooming constitutes the final arena for radicalism in artists fashion.
Brave, fragrant souls! You will be admired from a distance.
Markus Schinwald.
We are the perfume of corridors
Unfamiliarised with isolated activity
Traitors of privacy.
We are Utopian craftsmen
Scope heeled diplomats, pretty beggars
Not the product of poverty
We don’t take from anyone.
We are pillared by mild sadness and polymorphic history
Eternally skeptical,
But We Believe.
We are immortal volunteers
Living in the sensation of being everything
And the certitude of being nothing.
We are just an outline.
We disband prompted paths of movement
Extend our bodies,
Become abysmal dancers.
We are illiterate of perfection, following the curves of belief.
Interested only in the gestures of bending.
Scaffolded postures, obscene geometry.
Frozen irony.
Markus Schinwald
Unfamiliarised with isolated activity
Traitors of privacy.
We are Utopian craftsmen
Scope heeled diplomats, pretty beggars
Not the product of poverty
We don’t take from anyone.
We are pillared by mild sadness and polymorphic history
Eternally skeptical,
But We Believe.
We are immortal volunteers
Living in the sensation of being everything
And the certitude of being nothing.
We are just an outline.
We disband prompted paths of movement
Extend our bodies,
Become abysmal dancers.
We are illiterate of perfection, following the curves of belief.
Interested only in the gestures of bending.
Scaffolded postures, obscene geometry.
Frozen irony.
Markus Schinwald
Martin Creed.
I don’t know what I want to say, but, to try to say something, I think I want to try to think. I want to try to see what I think. I think trying is a big part of it, I think thinking is a big part of it, and I think wanting is a big part of it, but saying it is difficult, and I find saying trying and nearly always wanting. I want what I want to say to go without saying.
Martin Creed, 2001
Martin Creed, 2001
2010-09-24
my beauty mark.
i've got a beauty mark
written on my skin
close to my heart
my favourite part
my beauty mark
-
i keep it out of sight
safe from the world outside
this old battle scar
this secret part
my beauty mark
-
this little death
this mark of sin
forever printed on my skin
-
i'll keep it for you
-
this hidden place
this private part
this secret door into my heart
-
i'll keep it for you
-
this precious jewel
this darling bud
this reservoir of blood
-
my beauty mark
i'll keep it for you
written on my skin
close to my heart
my favourite part
my beauty mark
-
i keep it out of sight
safe from the world outside
this old battle scar
this secret part
my beauty mark
-
this little death
this mark of sin
forever printed on my skin
-
i'll keep it for you
-
this hidden place
this private part
this secret door into my heart
-
i'll keep it for you
-
this precious jewel
this darling bud
this reservoir of blood
-
my beauty mark
i'll keep it for you
2010-09-23
Ricocheting in between.
"I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between."
2010-09-21
2010-09-20
2010-09-15
BOY
One of the most heartbreaking, funny movies I have seen in a long time!
I was sitting in the movie theater, not knowing if I am allowed to break out in tears in public or laugh until I die.
Amazing actors, great story, beautiful music and wonderful pictures...!
Oh I love it!
I was sitting in the movie theater, not knowing if I am allowed to break out in tears in public or laugh until I die.
Amazing actors, great story, beautiful music and wonderful pictures...!
Oh I love it!
Once Were Warriors.
Since I saw "Boy" on Monday, I am fascinated by the Maori culture.
Tonight I am going to watch "Once were warriors" and I can't wait!
Tonight I am going to watch "Once were warriors" and I can't wait!
2010-09-14
Isabella Blow
I love hats.
I am convinced that hats are even more efficient than plastic surgery.
Knowing that 4 of my friends, aged 25 or under, have been re-modulating themselves with the aid of scalpels and tissues, I am certain that hats are the more fashionable option.
The give me a feeling of extravagance and differentiation.
When wearing one of my hats, I feel as if everything around me doesn't matter.
I am in my little bubble.
My hat-bubble.
Unfortunately, I have a very stubborn hair structure, which influences my hat-days.
My often undefined curls need to be restrained into a chignon, which means time-out for my beloved headgear.
One, who seems to share my passion was Isabella Blow.
Probably a little bit more free-spirited when it comes to her choice of hats, she wore them wherever, whenever as a sign of creativity and outspokenness.
I am convinced that hats are even more efficient than plastic surgery.
Knowing that 4 of my friends, aged 25 or under, have been re-modulating themselves with the aid of scalpels and tissues, I am certain that hats are the more fashionable option.
The give me a feeling of extravagance and differentiation.
When wearing one of my hats, I feel as if everything around me doesn't matter.
I am in my little bubble.
My hat-bubble.
Unfortunately, I have a very stubborn hair structure, which influences my hat-days.
My often undefined curls need to be restrained into a chignon, which means time-out for my beloved headgear.
One, who seems to share my passion was Isabella Blow.
Probably a little bit more free-spirited when it comes to her choice of hats, she wore them wherever, whenever as a sign of creativity and outspokenness.
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