Giacometti, Alberto.
Three Men Walking II. 1949
I
Three wise men. Three blind men. Three paralytic, two paralytic, one, one blind man. Two blind, one wise man. Two wise, one blind man. One man coming, the other two walking on—into each other. Each one taking the time to reach out, down to [...]
Archive for August, 2007
One Two Three For Another
Posted in Aesthetic, Note, Visual on August 20, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
Lovely, We Dance Skirt White
Posted in Aesthetic, Note, Visual on August 16, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
Bischoff, Elmer.
Interior with Two Figures. 1965
Prelude:
I.
“I was wondering why you wore white?” I said, as I looked at her. She was just across the room. “I wore it to spite you,” she said.
II.
“I was wondering why you wore white?” I said, as I looked at her from across the room. [...]
Crowding Out /or/ Your Crowd.
Posted in Aesthetic, Note, Visual on August 14, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
Park, David.
Crowd of Seven. 1960.
We look into a crowd of faces. Everytime you take your chin from the breast, there is a line of vision, a sight to see, of a sea of faces—to yours. What of the faces when compared to you— and yours. Squiggling and bobbing the heads are caught [...]
For Me: Lay Back, To: Yourself
Posted in Aesthetic, Visual on August 13, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
Oliveira, Nathan.
Reclining Nude. 1966.
If you hadn’t I would. Ask her to sit and lay then hold out her palms. Sunday, today when we asked whether the day was right. She took it as an imperative, simply said, to be either yes or no. If I wasn’t there I wouldn’t have believed [...]
Upon Dimples
Posted in Moral, Visual on August 6, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
Neither spirited in speech, ready at random to part from the pressures of his cheeks and lips, to say with a smile some congenial advice, nor was his stature compiled in such a way that if one faint a brow to any inch of his body, the dash of script would read from beginning to [...]
Tall Grass and Dirty Feet, Wiped Clean.
Posted in Moral on August 1, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
In the clear spanse and open field bedded in tall grass splinters, there is a continual charming wind, like the after breeze of my hammer, echoing to survey-level the place where I built my house—to this day. Erect with open windows and paneling lined only as tall as the house itself, a single story, [...]
