Archive for the ‘Image Craving’ Category

Um, Ew?

October 31, 2013

M and I went to see the Balthus show at the Met on Sunday, and coincidentally, in the new issue of the NYRB I snagged from my office (man this sentence makes me sound pretentious) there was a review of the show by Ian Buruma.  Serendipity!  Here’s a gross fact I learned from the piece:
“His painting The Guitar Lesson shows a music teacher, modeled after Balthus’s own mother, maliciously pulling the hair and pawing the crotch of a half-naked girl in white knee socks sprawled helplessly across her lap. Robert Hughes called this picture of molestation “one of the few masterpieces among erotic paintings by Western artists in the last fifty years.”

The Guitar Lesson, not on view in the Met show, was once stored at the Museum of Modern Art, then sold to the filmmaker Mike Nichols, and now belongs to the Niarchos family—the old shipping tycoon Stavros Niarchos had it in his palatial bedroom.”

Ouch.

Ouch.

Bah

October 21, 2013

I have some really good shit on the horizon, I SWEAR, but first, a book written by a fascinating woman named Carolyn Heilbrun, a former Columbia University English professor whose story was told on the Freakonomics podcast about suicide.

Add to wish list immediately

Add to wish list immediately

File This Under: All My Obsessions

October 13, 2013

A few years ago, I got to see Amy Sillman’s hilarious “Seating Charts” at Art Basel in Miami, in which she diagrammed which art insiders would sit in which places at various faux dinner parties.  It reminded me of a project I had previously wanted to work on but never could manage (not a laziness but a logistical thing, a flaw in the plan itself.)  I saw it with my bro IS, who yesterday sent me this amazing blog post that compares Sillman to my absolute favorite, the Shulchan Aruch (and the Talmud)!

SO MUCH TINY WRITING!

SO MUCH TINY WRITING!

 

A brief excerpt of the post:

I am not the first to compare Jewish Law to dinnerware, in fact the preeminent code of Jewish law was called The Shulchan Aruch (Hebrew: שׁוּלחָן עָרוּך‎, literally: “Set Table”) authored in Safed by Sefardic scholar Yosef Karo in 1563.   Ashkenazi Jews follow rulings of Moses Isserles whose glosses to the Shulchan Aruch are widely referred to as the mappah (literally: the “tablecloth”).  Commentaries on the work include Peri Chadash (“New Fruit”) and Megadim (“Dainty Fruit”) culminating in the early 20th century work  Aruch HaShulchan (Hebrew: ערוך השולחן) (“the table is set”)  which attempts to remaster the original recipes of the overly processed rulings of the Shulchan Arukh and identify their sources.

 

 

 

Earrings

October 10, 2013

My friend CN just moved (today!) to Philadelphia to be a jewelry buyer at Anthropologie.  I’m hoping she’ll get me this backlist bunny studs.

Well, I guess you can get them for me if you want, if you can find them.

Well, I guess you can get them for me if you want, if you can find them.

BLAH

September 25, 2013

I don’t know why but I’m really relating to this two-headed sheep right now.

Forgot the artist's name so fuck off.

Forgot the artist’s name so fuck off.

Another Bullshit Post

September 18, 2013

Whatever Wednesday!

Even though I now know that the moon doesn’t cause psychosis, I still want this phases of the moon cuff.

I'll send you my shipping address.

I’ll send you my shipping address.

Nonsense

September 16, 2013

Now I’m going to make up for being lackadaisical on the blogging front by posting obsessively.  Here’s something from my computer archives: a really attractive Australian-born, Paris-based chef who owns a restaurant called Bones.  SW-MOTHERFUCKING-OON.

Screen shot 2013-07-17 at 11.29.44 AM

How to Pin a Butterfly

August 27, 2013

By the Evolution Store.

(Still want to realize my great butterfly artwork. )

Eerie

August 22, 2013

Yesterday evening I was walking to this thing called a Death Cafe, recently featured in the Times.  The reporter summed up the salon as follows: “Offshoots of the “café mortel” movement that emerged in Switzerland and France about 10 years ago, these are not grief support groups or end-of-life planning sessions, but rather casual forums for people who want to bat around philosophical thoughts. What is death like? Why do we fear it? How do our views of death inform the way we live?”  I was curious but slightly annoyed that it was going to take place in an IHOP (IHOP in Manhattan?!) when I exited my office.  And then, right outside, was the silent scene of an obviously terrible motorcycle accident.  The bike lay in pieces on the road, and there was a body covered in a white sheet smack in the center of the intersection.  Gawkers lined the streets––policemen were just standing idly as well, because what could they do at that point?––and I stopped and stared for a moment and then continued on toward Death Cafe, where my table-mates included a woman who believes in Singularity (ooookay) and a gay Buddhist with the words “not nothing” tattooed to his forearm.

Good morning to you.

Wakey wakey.

Wakey wakey.

OKAY

August 9, 2013

So I know I owe everyone a little more WRITING and little less quipping/re-blogging of images, but I couldn’t help but share this: the other night, before I went to bed, I randomly checked the live feed of Andy Warhol’s grave (it’s a thing) and this is what I saw:

11:57 PM, Tuesday, August 6th.

11:57 PM, Tuesday, August 6th.