The last time we showed up (“Bring Back Crystal Pepsi,” last weekend), the pro-lifers put away all their signs, put down their bullhorns, stopped yelling at people going into the clinic, and just started praying for me. It went on for probably twenty minutes, all of them just praying around that Crystal Pepsi sign. I think that’s a huge success. If we keep those signs out of the air for even fifteen minutes, I’ll take prayers for my salvation all day long. Ideally, we’d love to see them move out of the area altogether. It would be great if both sides could just leave these people alone. But, if the pro-lifers are out there, then we want to be, too.
Talking to Tina Haver-Currin, Steadfast Pro-Choice Protester and Gentle, Brilliant Troll | The Hairpin
#saturdaychores 

The last time we showed up (“Bring Back Crystal Pepsi,” last weekend), the pro-lifers put away all their signs, put down their bullhorns, stopped yelling at people going into the clinic, and just started praying for me. It went on for probably twenty minutes, all of them just praying around that Crystal Pepsi sign. I think that’s a huge success. If we keep those signs out of the air for even fifteen minutes, I’ll take prayers for my salvation all day long. Ideally, we’d love to see them move out of the area altogether. It would be great if both sides could just leave these people alone. But, if the pro-lifers are out there, then we want to be, too.

Talking to Tina Haver-Currin, Steadfast Pro-Choice Protester and Gentle, Brilliant Troll | The Hairpin

#saturdaychores 

Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.

Sylvia Plath

via: lastgreatpoolparty

Christopher Payne (USA) - Textiles (2010-2014)

Christopher Payne specializes in the documentation of America’s vanishing architecture and industrial landscape. Trained as an architect, he is fascinated by how things are purposefully designed and constructed, and how they work. His first book, New York’s Forgotten Substations: The Power Behind the Subway, offered dramatic, rare views of the behemoth machines that are hidden behind modest facades in New York City. His second book, Asylum: Inside the Closed World of State Mental Hospitals, which includes an essay by the renowned neurologist Oliver Sacks, was the result of a seven-year survey of America’s vast and largely shuttered state mental institutions. Payne’s forthcoming book, North Brother Island: The Last Unknown Place in New York City, explores an uninhabited island of ruins in the East River. Payne’s photographs invoke the former grandeur of the site over different seasons, capturing hints of buried streets and infrastructure now reclaimed by nature, while also offering a unique glimpse into a city’s future without people.

Payne’s recent work, including a series in progress on the American textile industry, has veered away from the documentation of the obsolete towards a celebration of craftsmanship and small-scale manufacturing that are persevering in the face of global competition and evolutions in industrial processes. Nearing completion is One Steinway Place, a tour through the famous Steinway & Sons piano factory in Astoria, Queens. Here a team of skilled workers creates exquisite instruments considered to be some of the finest in the world. Payne captures moments of the choreographies of production and assembly, and inspects the parts and pieces of the instruments that will never be visible outside of the factory, telling a story of intricacy, precision, and care he fears is becoming all too rare in the American workplace.

© All images courtesy the artist

[more Christopher Payne | artist found at photojojo]

via: artchipel

Living with racism in America means tolerating a level of violence inflicted on the black body that we would not upon the white body. This deviation is not a random fact, but the price of living in a society with a lengthy history of considering black people as a lesser strain of humanity. When you live in such a society, the prospect of incarcerating, disenfranchising, and ultimately executing white humans at the same rate as black humans makes makes very little sense. Disproportion is the point.

Late Echo
BY JOHN ASHBERY
Alone with our madness and favorite flowerWe see that there really is nothing left to write about.Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old thingsIn the same way, repeating the same things over and overFor love to continue and be gradually different.
Beehives and ants have to be re-examined eternallyAnd the color of the day put inHundreds of times and varied from summer to winterFor it to get slowed down to the pace of an authenticSaraband and huddle there, alive and resting.
Only then can the chronic inattentionOf our lives drape itself around us, conciliatoryAnd with one eye on those long tan plush shadowsThat speak so deeply into our unprepared knowledgeOf ourselves, the talking engines of our day.
/////
[image = Parking space] 
via: s-h-e-e-r

Late Echo

BY JOHN ASHBERY

Alone with our madness and favorite flower
We see that there really is nothing left to write about.
Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things
In the same way, repeating the same things over and over
For love to continue and be gradually different.

Beehives and ants have to be re-examined eternally
And the color of the day put in
Hundreds of times and varied from summer to winter
For it to get slowed down to the pace of an authentic
Saraband and huddle there, alive and resting.

Only then can the chronic inattention
Of our lives drape itself around us, conciliatory
And with one eye on those long tan plush shadows
That speak so deeply into our unprepared knowledge
Of ourselves, the talking engines of our day.

/////

[image = Parking space

via: s-h-e-e-r


This is a piece by Ed Ruscha recently installed beside the High Line park in New York – the first Ruscha painting, I am told, installed as a mural outside. So much of Ruscha’s work has always seemed to draw subjects and visuals from the streets around him, so it’s great to see that imagery reinserted into its native habitat. It’s almost possible to imagine a new Ruscha that appropriates parts of this mural, as a (very) assisted readymade.

via: blakegopnik

This is a piece by Ed Ruscha recently installed beside the High Line park in New York – the first Ruscha painting, I am told, installed as a mural outside. So much of Ruscha’s work has always seemed to draw subjects and visuals from the streets around him, so it’s great to see that imagery reinserted into its native habitat. It’s almost possible to imagine a new Ruscha that appropriates parts of this mural, as a (very) assisted readymade.

via: blakegopnik

John Waters and David Lynch meeting outside of Bob’s Big Boy restaurant in Los Angeles, 1979.
“Lynch had been with John Waters earlier on the day of the interview and almost got him to join us. David later provided me with a copy of his short film ‘The Amputee,’ also shot by Elmes, which we screened following the interview on one TV set outside on the UCLA campus — a world premier. The interview ends on one of the great lines from David Lynch, who said he wasn’t interested in Hollywood stars at the time: ‘If you’re going into the netherworld, you don’t want to go in with Chuck Heston.’” —Tom Christie

via: cinephilearchive

John Waters and David Lynch meeting outside of Bob’s Big Boy restaurant in Los Angeles, 1979.

“Lynch had been with John Waters earlier on the day of the interview and almost got him to join us. David later provided me with a copy of his short film ‘The Amputee,’ also shot by Elmes, which we screened following the interview on one TV set outside on the UCLA campus — a world premier. The interview ends on one of the great lines from David Lynch, who said he wasn’t interested in Hollywood stars at the time: ‘If you’re going into the netherworld, you don’t want to go in with Chuck Heston.’” —Tom Christie

via: cinephilearchive

She actively cultivated her own unknowability, perhaps as a way to maintain this separateness. She never spoke of a desire to make a living as a photographer. In Chicago, where she lived for decades, she refused to give film processors and pawn shopkeepers her real name, instead handing out fake names all over town. She demanded separate locks for her rooms in her employers’ homes, and forbade anyone from ever entering her space. She didn’t mention family or old friends. She lied about where she was born, claiming France as her homeland (she was born in New York City in 1926), and spoke with a contrived Continental accent that no one could place. She dressed in an outdated style, or, as one interviewee put it, “like a Soviet factory worker from the nineteen-fifties.” In the film, an acquaintance recalls asking her what she did for a living. Her response: “I’m a sort of spy.”