Untitled

[diana-andraste]

Monsieur X, c. 1930

[the-other-art-attack]

Erik Thor Sandberg

[discontinued116]

Olga Spiegel

[funeral]

Thomas Fuchs, Ecology of the Brain

[coffeeandcigarettesv9]

[snafu-boo]

Uh Oh! Caturday.

[indifferentdrum]

More playing with projectors, this time with Hazel Greene.

Portland.

[user01010011]

[taconesdrift]

Styling assisting Valeria Chrampani for Dazed X Opia

Bambi’s 3rd look

[regardintemporel]

Bartolomeo Veneto - Portrait idéalisé de Lucrèce Borgia, vers 1520

Francfort, Städel Museum

[paolo-streito-1264]

Peter Bowery. Solo Paddler, Basshaunt Lake, Ontario, Canada, 2019.

[beyourselfchulanmaria]

© Peter Bowers

Paddler in the early morning mist. Leslie Frost wilderness area, Ontario, Canada.

In the fall, when the nights are cool and the water in the lakes is still warm, you get a lot of mist in the morning. On this morning it was 2 C. I convinced my wife to come paddling with me in the cold by making her coffee.

This is an ancient mode of travel and we're often following the same paths that have been used for thousands of years.

The Land of Ghosts

A glance over the shoulder a whisper in the mist, an echo through the trees… Spirit travelers, shamans and tricksters… As surely as his paddle slices the surface, he knows he is not alone…

幽靈之地

回頭一瞥 霧中的低語， 樹林間的迴聲… 幽魂旅者，薩滿 和搗蛋鬼… 就像他的槳劃破水面一樣， 他知道自己並不孤單…

Poem by Wintercove

[trouser-drum]

Byam Shaw (1872–1919)

[radicalgraff]

"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion"

Albert Camus sticker spotted in Phoenix, Arizona

[radicalgraff]

"Big Frog says This is Stolen Land"

Pasteup spotted in Hobart, Tasmania

[funeral]

This is the devil’s bargain of the technological society, and we have been falling for it forever: embrace the new, lose the old, and find yourself more deeply entwined in a technological web from which you cannot extricate yourself even if you want to . . . It’s often suggested that when we moved from Christendom via the Enlightenment into our current age, whatever we might call it, we desacralised or ‘disenchanted’ our culture: that we became pure materialists. For its proponents, this process was a move towards ‘reason’ and away from ‘superstition’. For opponents, it represented a slide into decadence and moral dissolution . . . ‘The fate of our times’, wrote pioneering sociologist Max Weber, ‘is characterized by rationalization and intellectualization and, above all, by the disenchantment of the world'.

Paul Kingsnorth, Against the Machine

[monster2001]

[funeral]

We might call this existential paradox the condition of individuality within finitude. Man has a symbolic identity that brings him sharply out of nature. He is a symbolic self, a creature with a name, a life history. He is a creator with a mind that soars out to speculate about atoms and infinity, who can place himself imaginatively at a point in space and contemplate bemusedly his own planet. . . . . Yet, at the same time . . . man is a worm and food for worms. This is the paradox: he is out of nature and hopelessly in it; he is dual, up in the stars and yet housed in a heart-pumping, breath-gasping body that once belonged to a fish and still carries the gill-marks to prove it. His body is a material fleshy casing that is alien to him in many ways—the strangest and most repugnant way being that it aches and bleeds and will decay and die. Man is literally split in two: he has an awareness of his own splendid uniqueness in that he sticks out of nature with a towering majesty, and yet he goes back into the ground a few feet in order blindly and dumbly to rot and disappear forever. It is a terrifying dilemma to be in and to have to live with.

Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death