Archive for March, 2012

The Tree of Anger/ Who Said it was Simple, Audre Lorde

Thursday, March 29th, 2012

Who Said it was Simple

By Audre Lorde

There are so many roots to the tree of anger
that sometimes the branches shatter
before they bear.

Sitting in Nedicks
the women rally before they march
discussing the problematic girls
they hire to make them free.
An almost white counterman passes
a waiting brother to serve them first
and the ladies neither notice nor reject
the slighter pleasures of their slavery.
But I who am bound by my mirror
as well as my bed
see causes in colour
as well as sex

and sit here wondering
which me will survive
all these liberations.

Color of the Void

Wednesday, March 28th, 2012

In photography, I strive to highlight moments of beauty, to remind myself of the ugly compromises of the modern world which we have helped shape. This seems like an unfortunate contradiction. Yet I recently learned of the dialectic method from inspiring professor Jeff Schultz: By digging out each contradiction and sitting it next to its appropriate THING, we can all come closer to the truth.

What is truth?

We all search for beauty in this world and enjoy those moments. They seem as truth. This is because BEAUTY is a reminder of the way we know the entire world could be, and those moments allow us to briefly escape and imagine the whole of the nature of society as something as equally beautiful as the fleeting moment.

Moments of beauty give me faith.

They each contain their own contradiction, a reminder of the sacrifices. Sacrifices like demanding satiety while allowing hunger, wasting measurable resources while wasting the technology we developed to fight nature– a brute force we once feared with legitimacy would swallow us whole– these sacrifices are evidence we are still a result of our primitive instinct to survive. With the developments of the modern world, our DNA has not adjusted to apply the fruits of our labor–technological advancements–to solving the problems we once claimed was the reason for creating our technology.

We market what is profitable, in an exchange for a few benefits (health, financial gains) for massive losses (health, morality).

I know first-hand that people are inherently good.

Only, the way we’ve constructed the pressures of commercialism and consumerism has trained many of us to sell as an instinct to survive the “harsh” world. But LET’S REMEBER, the structure of our society–the world we have created–is only as harsh as we make it. We are not victims, but producers. We have the power of choice. Knowledge is King, but Knowledge does not come easy.

Then again, neither does a six pack or a college degree, but people pursue those daily. We accept, and learn to find comfort in, repetition, even if what is being repeated is wrong.

“Abstraction, the instrument of enlightenment, stands in the same relationship to its objects as fate, whose concept it eradicates: as liquidation. Under the leveling rule of abstraction, which makes everything in nature repeatable, and of industry for which abstraction pre- pared the way, the liberated finally themselves become the “herd” (Trupp),
Hegel identified this as the outcome of enlightenment.” ~ Adorno & Horkheimer, from Dialectic of Enlightenment

Postcards to Alphaville

Wednesday, March 28th, 2012

Paul Paper “Postcards to Alphaville”: comissions artists to paint postcards for their favorite movies and characters


The 400 Blows






Fucking Åmål

The Shining

and my personal favorite…

Lost Highway



 Find out more here:

Antony Micallef

Wednesday, March 28th, 2012

British born artist, Antony Micallef, describes his work:


“It’s like watching a Disney movie which slowly turns into violent Pornography”





As a side note, I want to make this disney gun-fuck cow my avatar but am fighting it for reasons unknown.

happy 2 be sad

Wednesday, March 28th, 2012

I love it when I find an artist whose work is so melodramatic it hits me in this omg i totally feel like this everyday but I would never tell anyone in case they’d think I’m some poor self-deprecating  loser who never leaves the house (even though they would be right). Anyways, Natalya Lobanova does all the hard work and leaves the emotion part up to you.


Check her out

Like father like son; the Wrights

Monday, March 26th, 2012

Our Conversation

by Franz Wright
Pure gaze, you are lightning beyond the last trees
and you are the last trees’
past, branching
green lightning
of terminal brain branches
numened densely with summer’s
hunter color, as night comes on,
the ocean they conceal
gone berserk, wind still rising.
Pure seeing, dual vortex doors
to the blue fire where
sex is burned away, and all
is as it was and I am being offered
in your eyes, as in cupped hands,
the water of to never thirst again.
Again I turn away,
and the future comes, all at once
towering around me
on every side, and I am lost.
Pure looking, past pain
(this is promised):
we must have wed on poverty’s most hair-raising day
delighting, flashing risk, risk
unfailingly lighting the way,
anything possible
in that dissolving of seam
between minds,
no more golden time—
each step I took
the right step, words
came to me finally and finding the place
you had set for them,
once again
wrote themselves down.
Till true word’s anvil ring, and
solid tap of winged blind cane come,
I wish you
all the aloneness you hunger for.
That big kitchen table where you sit laughing
with friends, I see it happening.
And I wish that I could not be
so much with you
when I’m suddenly not; that
inwardly you might switch
time, to sleep
and winter while you went about
your life, until you woke up
our conversation resumed.
Ceaseless blue lightning, this
love passing through me:
I know somehow it will go on
reaching you, reaching you
when I’m not in the way;
when it is no longer deflected
by all the dark bents, all
I tried to overcome but I could not—
so much light pulled off course
as it passed within reach, so much
lost, lost in me,
but no more.

October 2, 1999–October 2, 2010


A Blessing

by James Wright

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

Crack Addiction /Playboy South Africa

Monday, March 26th, 2012

I have so many comments for this… but sometimes feminism is such a buzz-kill. Yes, it is. Sometimes it’s ok to laugh, just to get through the day. Mother always said to pick my battles after all.

Regardless of your level of feminist/ misogynistic(to shame!) views:

More than just a center fold: That’s what the new campaign claims.

Playboy South Africa is launching a new Ad campaign to show a different side of playboy.


Apparently a more well read side.



Broadcast, Corporeal

Sunday, March 25th, 2012

the torrential rain is making me feel nostalgic and miss Vancouver and listen to Broadcast


Who knew

Saturday, March 24th, 2012

Hey Girl/ Ratify ERA

Saturday, March 24th, 2012