Iftikhar

An aerial view of “The Greatest RV Rally in the World” in Redmond, Ore.

thingsmagazine:

Terrain Board, Segment, Lubbock, Texas, Flight Simulator (via things)

QUESTION FROM LA FEMME: What’s your theory on why French women stay slim?

ADAM GOPNIK: Nerves, adultery, and disdain

Animal And Bird Masks

Original Article

Making a comeback in ‘12

(Source: themonkeyisyourfriend, via artywords)

(Source: yugodrom, via artywords)

Terry Richardson

I have always been bothered by the American dream mythology. It is inherently assimilationist and it entirely denies all the exploitation, injustice, and loss that immigrants experienced upon arrival here. This mythology casts immigrants into the role of people who arrived in the US half-human inasmuch as their human possibilities were unfulfillable where they came from. For them to become fully human, they had to fulfill the dream, for that dream, we are told, is essentially human. Bush still talks about it, except now you can export the dream and get their oil in exchange. Immigrants had to forget about what they left behind and pass through all this hardship—as though an unlivable wage were a way to teach them how to be American—and finally become human by virtue of becoming American. Those who could not, did not, or would not adjust and accept the conditions of being American have been eliminated from the story of the American dream. That’s what happened to a large number of immigrants who went back to their homelands, as they never wanted to be American. (One of my best friends’ grandfather worked as a hotel detective—a bouncer, really—in Chicago for ten years, saved money, then went back to Bosnia to buy a piece of land.) That’s what happened to all those politically invested immigrants—anarchists, socialists, communists—who experienced the same exploitation here as in their half-human homelands. That’s what happened to Lazarus; he did not and does not fit into the story of the American dream.

— http://bombsite.com/issues/999/articles/3175

…while this is an important moment in civil-rights history, it is also an important moment in political history—in which the lesson, for the gay community and, perhaps, for anyone advocating for change, is that words are important, but we have to insist on action from our friends.

— Gay Marriage: Why Obama Couldn’t Wait
(via newyorker)

artistandstudio:

The cover of the last issue of the Surrealist review, La Révolution surréaliste No. 12, 1929. In the center is Rene Magritte’s The Hidden Woman. The text in the painting reads, “I do not see the (woman) hidden in the forest.”  Surrounding the painting is the inner circle of the Paris Surrealists, all with their eyes closed:  (top row) Maxime Alexandre, Louis Aragon, André Breton, Luis Bunuel, Jean Caupenne; (second row) Salvador Dalì and Paul Éluard; (third row) Max Ernst and Marcel Fourrier; (forth row) Camille Goemans and René Magritte; (bottom row) Paul Nougé, Georges Sadoul, Yves Tanguy, André Thirion, Albert Valentin. [x]

(via artywords)

Paris is Burning

With one or two exceptions—the Essex marshlands, Arctic tundra—I have always loathed flat and treeless country. Time there seems to dominate, it ticks remorselessly like a clock. But trees warp time, or rather create a variety of times: here dense and abrupt, there calm and sinuous—never plodding, mechanical, inescapably monotonous. I still feel this as soon as I enter one of the countless secret little woods in the Devon-Dorset border country where I now live; it is almost like leaving land to go into water, another medium, another dimension.

— John Fowles, The Tree

Everything I want from summer.

veloisto:

camp.

(via sweethomestyle)

hysysk:

ARTALK | The Rodina

(via artywords)

styleisstyle:

ghostparties:

thefallofsnow:

Xiao Wen Ju photographed by Tim Walker for W Magazine (2012)
Hokusai, The Great Wave off Kanagawa (c.1829-32)

this is one of my fave walker shoots to date… he’s really perfecting his balance of sweet/dreamy with something much darker these days and i really love it.

!!!!!!!!!!!!

Indeed, Dunham’s presence in “Tiny Furniture” reminded me very much of a fleshy, funny girl I knew in Brooklyn Heights when I was growing up, and through whom I met a seventeen-year-old Jean-Michel Basquiat (he was a year older than us) who was as amused by our mutual friend as I was. I don’t think either of us felt any less black for loving her. According to Dunham’s critics, the black presence described in the preceding anecdote doesn’t even feel like a thought in her television series, but why should it? Dunham is accurately describing the ways in which, once things get sexual in her world, and girls become women, the universe gets polarized, segregated—her female characters are looking for white male validation, which is their right.

Also, isn’t Dunham doing women of color a favor by not trying to insert them into her world where ideas about child-rearing, let alone man and class aspirations, tend to be different? John Lennon once said if you want your kids to stay white, don’t have them listen to black music. And I think it’s crazy to assume Dunham hasn’t. She grew up in New York, and you can see it in her clothes and body: no white girl allows herself to look like that if she didn’t admire the rounder shapes, and more complicated stylings, that women of color tend to pursue as their idea of beauty.

— 

Hilton Als: LENA DUNHAM: ATTACKED FOR NO GOOD REASON