Thursday 28 January 2016
Monday 25 January 2016
Wednesday 20 January 2016
Guarded Conditions, by Lorna Simpson
Click on the image to enlarge [Jeu de Paume]
With great economy and force, Simpson conveys the conditions of many black women as double targets of racism and sexism. [...] [T]he poses can be read as defensive or defiant or both, and the markings of 'skin' and 'sex' are underscored in a way that seems to strengthen rather than to debilitate the woman picture.
Hal Foster, Rosalind Krauss, Yve-Alain Bois, and Benjamin Buchloh (2004) Art since 1990, New York: Thames & Hudson, p. 641
Sunday 17 January 2016
Wednesday 13 January 2016
I’ll be free, ain’t that just like me
I had a lot of work the past few days, which helps one avoid thinking a lot. But not quite. David Bowie was a significant part of my life, from my adolescence to this day, just as he mattered for many other people. I would have preferred to think that it was one of the characters he embodied that passed away, rather than himself. But death is not an act. David Bowie knew that he was reaching the end of his life; so let's cherish his work once again, from this very end.
See also:
Saturday 9 January 2016
Thursday 7 January 2016
Monday 4 January 2016
Friday 1 January 2016
What is essential is invisible to the eye
The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.
"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarrassed.
"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passer-by would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
And he went back to meet the fox.
"Goodbye," he said.
"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
![[Wikipedia]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Little_Prince#/media/File:Littleprince.JPG){kind=link}
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)