Nov 24, 2011

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William S. Burroughs, “Thanksgiving Prayer,” 1986, filmed by Gus van Sant.

Nov 13, 2011

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David Hockney, “Peter [Schlesinger] Getting Out of Nick’s Pool,” 1966, Museum of Liverpool.

David Hockney, “Peter [Schlesinger] Getting Out of Nick’s Pool,” 1966, Museum of Liverpool.

Aug 20, 2011

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Lucian Freud with Zebra Head, circa 1943.

Lucian Freud with Zebra Head, circa 1943.

Aug 14, 2011

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artandopinion: Stakhanov Workers 1937 Alexander Deineka

artandopinion:

Stakhanov Workers

1937

Alexander Deineka

Jul 31, 2011

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A portrait of Hazel Fellows, an employee at the International Latex Corporation, sewing together one of the first spacesuits.

A portrait of Hazel Fellows, an employee at the International Latex Corporation, sewing together one of the first spacesuits.

Jul 24, 2011

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Yes, the body is a hideous thing,
the feet and genitals especially,
the human face not far behind. Blue veins
make snakes on the backs of hands, and mar
the marbled glassy massiveness of thighs.
Such clotted weight’s worth seeing after centuries
(Pygmalion to Canova) of the nude
as spirit’s outer form, a white flame: Psyche.

How wonderfully St. Gaudens’ slim Diana
stands balanced on one foot, in air, moon-cool,
forever! But no, flesh drags us down,
its mottled earth the painter’s avid ground,
earth innocently ugly, sound asleep,
poor nakedness, sunk angel, sack of phlegm.

“Lucian Freud,” a poem by John Updike.  Lucian Freud died earlier this week.
Jul 15, 2011

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Jul 5, 2011

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Wolfgang Rihm, “Jakob Lenz,” chamber opera, 1977.

Jul 4, 2011

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America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
Allen Ginsberg, “America,” an excerpt, 1956.
Jun 24, 2011

Notes
Ishi, 1862-1916.  Believed to be the last “uncontacted” human in the United States.  His name means “man” in his native Yana language.  When asked his name, he is known to have stated, “I have none, because there were no people to name me.”  He died of tuberculosis while under the care of the University of California in Berkeley.  

Ishi, 1862-1916.  Believed to be the last “uncontacted” human in the United States.  His name means “man” in his native Yana language.  When asked his name, he is known to have stated, “I have none, because there were no people to name me.”  He died of tuberculosis while under the care of the University of California in Berkeley.  

Jun 18, 2011

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I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky.

I like to think
(right now please!)
of a cybernetic forest
filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully
past computers
as if they were flowers
with spinning blossoms.

I like to think
(it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors
and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal
brothers and sisters,
and all watched over
by machines of loving grace.

Richard Brautigan, “All Watched Over By Machines of Loving Grace,” 1967.
Jun 17, 2011

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Maxo Vanka, “An Immigrant Mother Gives Her Son to Industry,” 1937.

Maxo Vanka, “An Immigrant Mother Gives Her Son to Industry,” 1937.

Jun 8, 2011

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[T]he Negroni. It was and is a sophisticated, world-weary drink– one with Italian origins and bitter complexity, yet remarkably, charmingly straight forward. It is not a drink that should be knocked back like whiskey, nor can it be co-opted or diluted with other ingredients and still be called by its proper name. It is the sum of its equal, co-dependent parts: gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari. […]  If a person could model one’s self after a cocktail, I knew that the Negroni was exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up, so I kept trying. So far, so good, and with minimal damage to my liver.  The Negroni doesn’t have the wide appeal of the Martini or even the Manhattan, which is, in my case, precisely the point. It isn’t necessarily an exclusive drink, but it does attract discriminating drinkers. They know who they are.

[T]he Negroni. It was and is a sophisticated, world-weary drink– one with Italian origins and bitter complexity, yet remarkably, charmingly straight forward. It is not a drink that should be knocked back like whiskey, nor can it be co-opted or diluted with other ingredients and still be called by its proper name. It is the sum of its equal, co-dependent parts: gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari. […]  If a person could model one’s self after a cocktail, I knew that the Negroni was exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up, so I kept trying. So far, so good, and with minimal damage to my liver.  The Negroni doesn’t have the wide appeal of the Martini or even the Manhattan, which is, in my case, precisely the point. It isn’t necessarily an exclusive drink, but it does attract discriminating drinkers. They know who they are.

Jun 8, 2011

Notes
Albert Bloch, “The Duel,” 1912.  Albert Bloch was one of the few Americans associated with der blaue Reiter, a group of early 20th Century modernists.  He was a Missouri native and a department head at the University of Kansas.

Albert Bloch, “The Duel,” 1912.  Albert Bloch was one of the few Americans associated with der blaue Reiter, a group of early 20th Century modernists.  He was a Missouri native and a department head at the University of Kansas.

Jun 7, 2011

0 notes
A portrait of John Boswell, historian.  

A portrait of John Boswell, historian.  

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I am a law student living in Chicago. I use this Tumblr to reflect on interesting images and sayings. Subscribe via RSS.