September 4, 2013
Knowingness is an illusion unto itself. But it’s one that exists as part of the brain’s design. And it is quite a design, a masterpiece of sanity and madness and all that lies between. Thas what it seems we discuss, in many ways, facets of a diamond, diamonds being carbon, being former vestiges of life, of matter compressed by pressure and time, until final ashes to ashes becomes the hardest substance on the planet.
And the one that we kill, rape, and pillage to behold, we barter our souls for the vestiges of death. I love it. It’s a poem. Could keep doing on fossil fuels, but I wont since its neither here nor there, as this all is. To know, or not to know, that is the question.
How do we know we know truth and false ? I don’t buy into conventional wisdom because I am a fool. because i operate by folly. I walk along the edge of a cliff, forever looking at the sky and not at where my feet are heading. Thas my truth, until it’s false, and then ? Maybe I wont write poems. I wont write at all. I’ll be reborn in another being and answer a different call.
But while I am here, in this form, Ima say, I never knew God til we met three years ago. and it was. And it is. It’s tha best. Really. I am so grateful. I have no doubts. Because I have no baggage. No religious hang ups. No spiritual swishh. Like, word, tonite is New Year. Cheers ~*~ I celebrate New Years on three calendars. I wanna have it all. And God allows this, thas why I’m cool with any level of faith and doubt, just like truth and false. I tell myself I am here to do God’s work. I come up hard. I fall short. But still, each and every day I am blessed to be in God’s grace.
This is the Year of the Snake, because revolution happens when the circle spins round and I believe in the ouroburo, thas the snake eating it’s tail, thas my reptile spirit, annd Ima testify it’s real. And maybe or maybe not, me finding God is part of this, but I’m glad I’m where I’m at because I know things, and I dont know things, and thas the way it is ~*~
September 4, 2013
“i write from inside me.
you read from inside me.
you can not have a more intimate relationship
lovers, nayyirah waheed
September 3, 2013
I meet Truth with a cold bottle of rose
and pour myself a glass and drink it fast
like it’s water from an oasis because…
I pour myself a second glass
and drink it less fast but not at all slow
and still I feel nothing or, rather,
I don’t feel nothing yet. I am waiting for the click,
the click of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
and I’m holdinn on Brick, but it’s just no use.
I slide down down down I slide
and I like the way it feels
because I feel nothing
and nothing is my everything yes.
Because that’s a lie.
I know the Truth
in a way that I haven’t ever let myself be honest.
I’m looking at my phone
and I’m walking down the street
and the flagstones are wide
and dry and the air is damp and sweet.
And I’m saying,
I’m saying I already knew I was lying
and that I was never swept away
because there was no one sweeping up nothing
How strange this pain that’s in my heart
for it is soft and warm and vibrating quietly
as it fades with each word that I type.
It is a pain of pleasure
and the pleasure of pain
and it is my First Love,
and it will always be
and it is not at all sane.
Wet eyes that are dry
and a smile that slides back into the ether
and what is seeking me I can never know.
How strange to imagine being sought
as though such a desire could be manifest by anyone else.
And yet, the space between us is. Is.
It’s pieces of the puzzle and I don’t know what to do
because I want to Do rather than to Be
because being confuses with its darkness and mysteries.
Inspiration is a mystery and for me
mystery is most enthralling with possibility.
Nothing but my dreams to live
or simply to dream because…
It is all within me and I look without
because I love that pain in my heart like I hate myself.
And I could know this without ever knowing a thing
and I only feel what is real
only what is real isn’t Truth,
it is just me being…
September 2, 2013
We ought to view ourselves with the same curiosity and openness
with which we study a tree, the sky or a thought,
because we too are linked to the entire universe.
Drawing is like making an expressive gesture
with the advantage of permanence.
I wouldn’t mind turning into a vermilion goldfish.
Why have I never been bored?
For more than fifty years I have never ceased to work.
Art & Quotes by Henri Matisse
September 2, 2013
September 1, 2013
As I’ve said all along,
a good idea attempted is still better that a bad idea perfected
and I’m still turning my problems into my assets.
September 1, 2013
In brief, the best of everything is good enough for me.
Match me, Sidney.
The cat’s in the bag and the bags in the river.
“The dreamy marijuana smoke of a lad who had the high-brow jazz quintet,
is giving an inelegant odor to that elegant East Side club where he works.
That’s no way for a card-holding Party member to act.
Moscow won’t like it, you naughty boy.”
I’d hate to take a bite outta you.
You’re a cookie full of arsenic.
I love this dirty town.
Photographs by Cecil Beaton
Quotes by Ernest Lehman
August 31, 2013
I think when I first started out, I was very, very nervous and scared to even ask to sit at the table. A lot of times, to be quite honest, when I first started, I was just so picked apart and ridiculed even by my own people.
Sometimes I would say, `OK, I’m just going to stand here on the corner, I’m good. Go ahead, sit.’ And that didn’t sit well with me. And after a while, I just started pushing my way through and saying, you know, `There is nothing wrong with the way I look, there is nothing wrong with the way I speak. You guys are the ones with the problem. So move over ‘cause my seat is right here, right next to you. And I’m not going to change to fit into your sense of what is norm. That should only occur in the roles that I play. The only time that I should change who I am is when I’m playing a specific character. Outside of that, I am who I am, thank you. Now let’s eat.’
And I think that if more people took that approach, we would have much more success and we would have much more of a volume of us, if you will, at the table. But we have to find some type of strength within ourselves to say, `I am beautiful, I do deserve to sit here, thank you very much.’ And that going full circle has definitely come from being from Brooklyn, just because you know who you are. When you’re on your block, you know who you are and you feel good about it.
August 31, 2013
August 30, 2013
I did not know until it began and then and only then it began to expand, this desire and will for all things photography, for publishing, for books, for essays poems odes sonnets everlasting of stories told, for the people who lived and live forevermore captured on the page where the photograph is born.
It had been since 1999 that I found myself captivated by the spell of the photography book, page after page after page of lives unfolding, one page after another. It had found me, this thing I had been living unconsciously, and it has been to this I have given myself completely, with everything I possess, a true believer driven to act upon the printed page, with words, photographs, stories being told in complete and utter silence.
I beheld, held these things to be sacred, though I didn’t know the hows or the why of it at all, and I still don’t. But I do know it is fate for in my life it transforms…
I began as a publicist, a publisher, and I became a journalist, a book reviewer. It was Jean Jacques Naudet at Le Journal de la Photographie who made this possible, with a daily newsletter detailing the international photography world, documenting an expansive array of festivals, fairs, exhibitions, events, and industry moves. It also features notable profiles and interviews, as well as archival stories and weekend portfolios. I was given the freedom to cover anything I’d like, anything that sparked my interest and fanned the flames of curiosity and wonder, anything that inspired tribute and reverence, consideration of ideas that exist only in pictorial form.
I had never thought, until I had to, of the nature of the photograph and how it held me spellbound like Ingrid Bergman in the Hitchcock classic. And as I began to write, it came to me, that it was the photography book that is my destiny. And that is a beautiful thing, the freedom to create the world in which I wish to live. I was given cause to speak with artists, publishers, visionaries, to peruse these very powerful pages of their lives, to share in ideas and wisdom, to listen to the words and the silence and the stillness of the single image…
and then to return to the world with this new found knowledge, to share of these photographs and books. I remember standing outside Bookmarc on Bleecker Street as a cop on horseback watched the scene. Old punks gathered thick and deep to celebrate “Just Chaos,” curated by Roberta Bayley. And it was at that moment that I knew punks were the last of the hippies. Never sell out, never say die, just keep on keepinn onn, because art is life. Life is art. The Art of Living, like Epictetus wrote.
And so we gather here today to salute Le Journal de la Photographie, which bids us adieu after three years sailing the uncharted waters of digital publishing. Of communications, community, and communion; we stand here today in honor of the photograph, of what it is, what it was, what it shall be, for we know, without words, we know in our souls these things. Cheers to Le Journal for making this possible, for giving writers like myself the opportunity to discover our Truth in photography.
August 29, 2013
I love doubt in a woman.
It’s almost as sexy as determination.
—Irvine Welsh, Filth
August 28, 2013
August 28, 2013
…and still the chills come as the words reverberate in the ear, Martin Luther King Jr.’s voice as clear as the call of the clarion. “I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’
“I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
“I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heart of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but the content of their character.
“I have a dream today!”
King first spoke these unforgettable words on August 28, 1963, at the historic March on Washington, where he stood at the Lincoln Memorial before 250,000 people gathered at the National Mall in Washington, D.C., to mount a peaceful protest demanding Civil Rights, justice, and equality for African Americans nearly one hundred years after slavery was abolished in the United States.
In tribute to the fiftieth anniversary of one of the proudest days in this country’s history, Getty Publications has just released This Is The Day: The March on Washington by Leonard Freed, with texts by Julian Bond, Michael Eric Dyson, and Paul Farber. Most of the seventy-five photographs featured here have never been published before, and taken as a whole they offer a compelling, powerful, and uplifting vision of the day itself—before, during, and after the march.
As Dyson writes, “The moral beauty of Freed’s photographs bathes the aesthetics that guides his flow of images. The folk here are neat, dignified, well-dressed—in a word, sharp, with all the surplus meaning the word summons, since black dress can never be divorced from political consequence…. Freed captures the simple dignity and the protocols of cool—the ethics of decorum—that characterizes large swaths of black life. And when his camera swings wide to include a vision of America too rarely noticed in the mainstream press at the time, and in some cases even now, he records almost mundanely, and hence rather heroically, the everydayness of the encounters between white and black. He allows the images to steep in the crucible for American race. One can almost catch the subliminal suggestion: This is what it should always be like.”
Indeed, the legacy of this historic day is that it offered to not only America but to the world a vision of the power that healing brings. We return again and again to the day, not only for what King verbalized for us but for what Freed’s images say. We see in these images the American ideal: all power to the people, and for that we reflect with a quiet reverence and hopeful spirit that the dream shall be fulfilled.