cheers to a new year

Thursday, December 30, 2010 • 1






Joan Didion, 1979


Ben Johnson, Weary, 1966


Anntian spring/summer 2010


Aidan Koch


Mara Carrafone


Mikhail Vrubel


Well hello there...





Carrie Schneider, Derelict Self, 2006–2007, c-prints, 30 x 36 inches each

"Derelict Self is inspired by the idea that mimicry can be a way to both gain and lose a sense of oneself, as well as my own experience of being a younger sibling."


"Portrait of the Artist in Her Studio (Jessica James Lansdon)" (2007) by Carrie Schneider


Carrie Schneider, Dazzle Camouflage (for Peter), 2008, c-print, 45 x 60 inches

I really love her work. See more on her website.


Jessica James Landsdon, War Between the States, 2004, string, nails and cut vinyl


Back of Monster Island where Mollusk Surf shop is. Mural work by Maya Hayuk, Kyle Ranson, Oliver Halsman Rosenberg, and Momo.


Kyle Ranson


Mary Virginia Carmack


William Blake


Nicolas S






Tauba Auerbach


Bruce Conner


Adam Farmer


Tomita Fumio


Yago Hortal


Magali Reus




Silje Ramstad. Haha, I love this.




Arna Óttarsdóttir




Benjamin King


Bodys Isek Kingelez


Chris Labeau


Gunnar S. Gundersen, Dance, 1968


Philip Guston


Jonathan Zawada




Monica Canilao

2010 went tits up, bottoms up for 2011!


Daul Kim





yes

Sunday, December 19, 2010 • 0

A wild longing for strong emotions and sensations seethes in me, a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life. I have a mad impulse to smash something, a warehouse perhaps, or a cathedral, or myself, to commit outrages…For what I have always hated and detested and cursed above all things was this contentment, this healthiness and comfort…this fat and prosperous brood of mediocrity. - Herman Hesse, Steppenwolf

“This above all: to thine own self be true
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man. - Shakespeare, Hamlet

If you are going through hell, keep going. - Winston Churchill

"I feel beaucoup fantastic."

Thursday, December 9, 2010 • 0

I am giving serious consideration to less-than-desirable money making options (hey, Kathleen Hanna did it!), a wee bit tipsy, and these are the three songs that I think are the most beautiful ever and I just played them in a row.


"Dear John" by Nice (1991)

Lyrics like a short story in song form.


"Cattle and Cane" by The Go-Betweens (1983)

The notoriously difficult time signature gives both a nostalgic quality as well as a timeless one.


"Golden Brown" by The Stranglers (1982)

In between beating up The Clash and doing lots of drugs, they wrote this song and scored a #2 hit on the British top 40. It has a very English, traditional sensibility about it – a bit reminiscent of The Pentangle (who I am also a huge fan of). Plus this video is fucking class.

"I secretly hope that things are getting worse".

Thursday, November 25, 2010 • 1

My friend Kim talked me into going back to visit Vermont. I hadn't been planning on going back until the spring but I borrowed a car, got some cash, a sleeping bag, and a case of beer and went for it. These are of the quiet cozy parts of the weekend not parties because bringing a giant DSLR around to parties is just obnoxious. And probably for the best because of this FourLoko business. I don't take very exciting pictures because I feel weird about taking pictures of people most of the time.



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Didion

Monday, November 22, 2010 • 0



This passage cuts like a knife, I tell you, a knife! No! More accurately, a surgeon's scalpel:

"To have that sense of one's intrinsic worth which constitutes self-respect is potentially to have everything: the ability to discriminate, to love and to remain indifferent. To lack it is to be locked within oneself, paradoxically incapable of either love or indifference. If we do not respect ourselves, we are on the one hand forced to despise those who have so few resources as to consort with us, so little perception as to remain blind to our fatal weaknesses. On the other, we are peculiarly in thrall to everyone we see, curiously determined to live out -- since our self-image is untenable -- their false notions of us. We flatter ourselves by thinking this compulsion to please others an attractive trait: a gist for imaginative empathy, evidence of our willingness to give. Of course I will play Francesca to your Paolo, Helen Keller to anyone's Annie Sullivan: no expectation is too misplaced, no role too ludicrous. At the mercy of those we cannot but hold in contempt, we play roles doomed to failure before they are begun, each defeat generating fresh despair at the urgency of divining and meeting the next demand made upon us.

It is the phenomenon sometimes called 'alienation from the self.' In its advanced stages, we no longer answer the telephone, because someone might want something; that we could say no without drowning in self-reproach is an idea alien to this game. Every encounter demands too much, tears the nerves, drains the will, and the specter of something as small as an unanswered letter arouses such disproportionate guilt that answering it becomes out of the question. To assign unanswered letters their proper weight, to give us back to ourselves -- there lies the great, the singular power of self-respect. Without it, one eventually discovers at the final turn of the screw: one runs away to find oneself, and finds no one at home."

- Joan Didion, On Self-Respect, 1961