stolen moments @simonarmstrong - Tumblr Blog

Can anyone recommend a good book to sit on my nightstand untouched for 3 years collecting dust while I mindlessly stare into this stupid screen?

Jeff Lyons (via nevver)

photolia

(1) ten photobooks from 2014 (Matthew Carson, ICP Library)

(2) 14 Best Photobooks of the Year 2014: PARTY TIME (theloggingroad by Mirelle Thijsen)

(3) TIME Picks the Best Photobooks of 2014 (4) The Wall Street Journal’s list of Photography Gift Books

(5) Livres de…

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Anaïs Nin

nevver

Emily Winfield Martin

explore-blog

David Shields, whose highly anticipated Salinger biography was at last released, lists his "favorite books that could save a life":

Ben Lerner’s Leaving the Atocha Station chronicles the endemic disease of our time: the difficulty of feeling,’ a perfect phrase a reviewer once used to...

Dis Poem

Dis poem, shall speak of the wretched sea That washed ships to these shores Of mothers cryin' for their young swallowed up by the sea Dis poem shall say nothin' new Dis poem shall speak of time Time unlimited time undefined Dis poem shall call names Names like Lumumba, Kenyatta, Nkrumah Hannibal, Akenaton, Malcolm, Garvey, Haile Selassie Dis poem is vexed about apartheid, rascism, fascism The Klu Klux Klan riots in Brixton Atlanta, Jim Jones Dis poem is revoltin' against first world second world Third world division man made decision Dis poem is like all the rest Dis poem will not be amongst great literary works Will not be recited by poetry enthusiasts Will not be quoted by politicians nor men of religion Dis poem s knives bombs guns blood fire Blazin' for freedom, yes dis poem is a drum Ashanti, Mau Mau, Ibo Yoruba, Nyahbingi warriors Uhuru uhuru, uhuru Namibia, Uhuru Soweto, uhuru Afrika Dis poem will not change things Dis poem need to be changed Dis poem is a rebirth of a people Arizin' awaking understandin' Dis poem speak is speakin' have spoken Dis poem shall continue even when poets have stopped writin' Dis poem shall survive you me it shall linger in history In your mind, in time forever Dis poem is time only time will tell Dis poem is still not written, dis poem has no poet Dis poem is just a part of the story His-story her-story our-story the story still untold Dis poem is now ringin talkin irritatin Makin' you want to stop it, but dis poem will not stop Dis poem is long cannot be short Dis poem cannot be tamed cannot be blamed The story is still not told about dis poem Dis poem is old new Dis poem was copied from the Bible your prayer book Playboy magazine the N.Y. Times readers digest The CIA files the KGB files, dis poem is no secret Dis poem shall be called boring stupid senseless Dis poem is watchin' you tryin to make sense from dis poem Dis poem is messin' up your brains Makin you want to stop listenin' to dis poem But you shall not stop listenin' to dis poem You need to know what will be said next in dis poem Dis poem shall disappoint you, because Dis poem is to be continued in your mind in your mind In your mind your mind

- Mutabaruka, 1986.

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Danny Lyon

casualoptimist

Garry Winogrand: The Photographer as Addict

Geoff Dyer reflects on the recent Garry Winogrand exhibition at the San Francisco Museum of Modern…

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Self Publish Be Happy Book Club III by Cristina de Middel

This the second book by Cristina de Middel after the acclaimed The Afronauts, a playful book she made about the forgotten Zambian space program. This is a great publication. It is beautifully made, playful and with great pictures. A love story about New York, street photography and Maria and Tony of course.

The cover of the copy I received from SPBH is a bit boring compared to the ones I saw here and there on the internet, but that can be easily fixed as Amsterdam is home to a thriving community of graffiti artists.

harharhar

GREAT essay. A+. Will read again (and again and again).

We are all victims of the imagination in this country. The American Dream may sometimes seem like a dirty joke these days, but it was internalized long ago by our fevered little minds and it remains to haunt us as we fumble with the unglamorous pennies of life during the illusionless middle years. At fiftyone, believe it or not, or believe it and pity me if you are young and swift, I still don’t know truly “what I want to be.” I’ve published several serious books. I rate an inch in Who’s Who in America. I teach at a so-called respected university. But in that profuse upstairs delicatessen of mine I’m as open to every wild possibility as I was at thirteen, although even I know that the chances of acting them out diminish with each heartbeat. One life was never quite enough for what I had in mind.