Arthur Streeton, The spirit of the drought, c. 1896
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Arthur Streeton, The spirit of the drought, c. 1896
Amitava Kumar at Asian American Writers’ Workshop, 3/26/15
Marcus Tullius Cicero, Aratea (Harley MS 647, ff 2v-17v)
22 constellation figures containing extracts from Hyginus, Astronomica.
England (c. 820-11th century)
This is one of the coolest Illuminated Manuscripts I’ve come across in quite a while. The illustrations of various constellations have integrated the design of each figure into the script, along with various small portraits of famous astronomers. You can view the whole thing here.
at what point does reading stop being useful and start being insight porn?
I’ll tell you a story:
Johannes Gutenberg was a very strange and secretive man. Before he developed Europe’s first printing press he had been involved in a scheme to mass produce concave mirrors. These mirrors would be set on a rack and arrayed such that their faces were turned towards holy relics. The power of the relics, it was thought, would shine on the mirrors which ever after would rebroadcast this healing radiation.
After the mirror scheme went belly up Gutenberg turned to printing. He did much of his work on an almond-shaped island in the middle of a river. When he unveiled his invention many people speculated as to the source of his inspiration. Some said it had been flatly demonic. Others said he was a Jew. The most interesting rumor involved a method of state torture and execution.
Pressing was a kind of judicial torture used to force a plea or a confession from a suspect who refused to speak. To contemporary legal minds a person was justly punished if and only if they had been convicted or if they had confessed. Because conviction must start with a plea and confession requires speech, a criminal could theoretically hamstring a court simply by remaining silent. To guard against this loophole, pressing was instituted.
The suspect was made to lie down on a wooden board and another was placed on top of their chest. Stones or metal weights were then arranged on the top board. Their number was increased day by day until the suspect pled, confessed or died.
In Strasbourg, where Gutenberg perfected his own press, this form of judicial torture had a local addition. A thick block of wood was placed between the top board and the naked belly of the condemned. The block was flat on one side and carved to high relief on the other with the seal of the city of Strasbourg. In this way, as the weights were added, an impression of the seal was made in the flesh of the person beneath it. This was to show, after the person had been killed and their corpse publically displayed, that the torture had been undertaken by powers legally entitled to command it.
It was said that this was the source of Gutenberg’s idea.
I think that reading is like this. It takes an exceptionally strong person to be exposed to the weight of truth that books can relate and for that person’s mind to remain unchanged. There is a crucial moment for us as readers which takes place just past the weight of truth that we can no longer bear. We die.
If we are lucky, and continue to read past the point at which our former self is crushed out of us, this will not be our last death. In this way, we will always be able to cry out for more weight.
Paul Blanca: Self-portrait with Chicken Heads
crowd of the damned
Pamplona Bible, Navarre 1197
Amiens, Bibliothèque municipale, ms. 108, fol. 254r
I usually don’t have much patience for writing advice, but this seems sound.
genius
"It’s our first time out this year."
Keep your friend’s toast, but keep your enemy’s toaster.
The Hound @OliverGuardDog (via nevver)
The chief purpose of life, for any one of us, is to increase according to our capacity our knowledge of God by all the means we have, and to be moved by it to praise and thanks. To do as we say in the Gloria in Excelsis … . We praise you, we call you holy, we worship you, we proclaim your glory, we thank you for the greatness of your splendour. And in moments of exaltation we may call on all created things to join in our chorus, speaking on their behalf … all mountains and hills, all orchards and forests, all things that creep and birds on the wing.
J.R.R. Tolkien, on the meaning of life. (via awelltraveledwoman)
John Singer Sargent (aged 23) after Velazquez
Broken Flowers, Ori Gersht
Russian Photographer Captures The Cutest Squirrel Photo Session Ever
Photos by ©Vadim Trunov - Via Bored Panda
Weekend inspiration. -Emily
An actual headline from The New York Times in 1919
Nobody need worry.
When the piece of a body is left (or a home is left) then the body begins being a constellation: one piece is there! one piece is there! If I leave my hair in the comb in my mother’s house & walk out the door to go to the airport, then all of a sudden the body is everything between me & that lost piece. The body is made up, then, of roads & crickets & azucena & mud. How large we are. How ramshackle, how brilliant, how haphazardly & strangely rendered we are. Gloriously, fantastically mixed & monstered. I have been asking myself to be more attentive & porous—to pay attention to the way every inch of me is animal, every inch of me is earth. I am trying to remember this. Where is my cloud? Where is my sea? What do the lungs hunt? What does the eye have in common with the teeth?
Aracelis Girmay (via elucipher)