[united-hairlines]

[curatedbyaccident]

[nosex]

FEMME FATALE (BRIAN DE PALMA, 2002)

[psychedelicway]

Chicago, 1967

Photographer : James L. Stanfield

[zumzeig]

by Oliver Harris

Dismissed as Unreadable “The long and intimate association of William Burroughs with poets is well known: Ginsberg, most obviously, as well as Corso, Creeley, Ferlinghetti, Leroi Jones, John Giorno, and so on. But to talk of Burroughs’ own material engagement with poetic form and poetics in relation to historical and contemporary practices — this can really only mean one thing: the cut-up project that began in Paris at the end of 1959. As well as brief encounters with old luminaries such as Duchamp, Peret and Tzara, this was the place and the context in which his activities would bring Burroughs in contact with George Maciunas’ Fluxus Group, the Domaine Poetique of Bernard Heidsieck and Henri Chopin, the work of the Lettristes and poesie sonore. It’s easy to forget, but his first novel, Junkie, had been published as a pulp paperback on sale in rail stations only six years earlier. Now, to give just one example, Burroughs would find himself in print alongside John Ashbery, Michael McClure and Philip Whalen, Richard Huelsenbeck, Francis Picabia and Alice B. Toklas. (…).“ read more: via RealityStudio.

[ozu-teapot]

Chinese Roulette | Rainer Werner Fassbinder | 1976

Margit Carstensen, Andrea Schober

[translucentmind]

Hands // Joanna Krótka

[theparisreview]

It all begins with fucking around and intuition and without any idea of what you’re doing, I think.

Allen Ginsberg, The Art of Poetry No. 8 (via theparisreview)

[thunderstruck9]

Gérard Schlosser (French, b. 1931), La fenêtre de derrière [The back window], 1986. Acrylic on canvas, 162 x 130 cm.

[mpdrolet]

[screenshits]

[amyjdewinehouse]

“Music is the only thing I have with real dignity in my life. That’s the one are in my life where I can hold my head up and say ‘no-one can touch me’”

- Amy Winehouse

[renzosanavia]

[shihlun]

Duane Michals, The Pyramids by Moonlight, 1978

[kafkaesque-world]

And now I am going to tell you a secret which at the moment I don’t even believe myself but which is bound to be true: I will never be well again.

Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice (via kafkaesque-world)

[nevver]

you are lost in space your spaceship is very beautiful

— Bot_Ideas (@bot_ideas) April 9, 2016

[seex666]

[antepaths]

sasha baby

[fromitalytola]