oh my goodness oh my goodness. 
this artist, marco mazzoni, is incredible. i can't believe these fleshy, visceral images are achieved with just colored pencils. those mouths!

"once upon a time there was a boy who lived in a house across the field from a girl who no longer exists. they made up a thousand games. she was queen and he was king. in the autumn light, her hair shone like a crown. they collected the world in small handfuls. when the sky grew dark they parted with leaves in their hair."


-nicole krauss

shithead of my dreams

a roy orbison sort of day

i'm in lurve with this artist, matthew cox, who creates his pieces by overlaying embroidery atop medical x-rays. so unique, so lovely.

oh my, this is wonderful.

in anticipation of his retrospective at new york's museum of modern art, filmmaker tim burton reimagines the season's dark delights. photographs by tim walker.

amazing

                                                              god do i love bernadette.

i am so very much in awe of this artist, ronit baranga. so creepy and unsettling and beautiful.

brooke shields is currently starring on broadway as morticia in the addams family. it's great that she still has a thriving career, but any time i see her i can't help but obsess over how painfully gorgeous she was in her youth and how awesomely risque her calvin klein ads were in the 80s. also, isn't it obvious where american apparel took their marketing inspiration from? mm bushy eyebrows.

ballantine books, 1976 

                                from the movie the general (1926), this is considered to be the most expensive shot in silent film history. 

sparrow, hand built porcelain, 2008, by Kate MacDowell

siiiigh

                                                                                       collection display tips via apartmentthereapy.com

                                                                               Circassian Beauty, date unknown


In the 1860s, P.T. Barnum exhibited women whom he claimed were Circassian beauties. They wore a distinctive Afro hair style and were known as “moss haired girls.” Circassian beauties were typically presented as victims of sexual enslavement among the Turks, who 
had escaped from the harem to achieve freedom in America.   via black and wtf

i'm just beginning to get my footing back as we settle into fall here. i went from spending forty-five hours per week with 8 year old twins (the "indoor" type), to a week of sunshine sloth & pork bbq gluttony in the outer banks to a week of sunshine sloth & pork bbq gluttony in nashville, to jumping straight into studio art courses at the museum school and a new, moderately uncomfortable job (albeit due in part to its "newness"). to go from monotony to extreme comfort to extreme discomfort has been somewhat of a physical and mental shock. but i'm alive. and i have basic cable. and i can now fry my eggs in my skivvies and pee with the door wide open so hallelujah praise the lord, life is good. oh, and fall is approaching; boy do i love the shit out of this season. 

nashville was lovely...a weird town if you stay there for more than a few days, but a drunken and fantastically good time for honkey tonk and rockabilly and a generally unhealthy lifestyle. live music blares from bars as early as 10am on weekday mornings, and not just music but damn good music, here, there and everywhere. there was robert's western world, a little joint where i was lucky enough to see one of the most incredible upright bassists perform- "slick" joe fick, he slappadabass. we visited willy nelson's country store, the dukes of hazzard museum and of course, the country music hall of fame where i was able to ogle hank williams' cowboy boots and swanky suits and revel in the tininess of dolly parton's waist size. elvis presley had a sick car and one pimped out piano, 24k gold-leafed to boot. and let's not forget the point: a gorgeous friend's absolutely gorgeous wedding, chock full of love, mason jars and wood slabs, mint juleps and grateful dead covers.

to have exited the mind-numbing, corporate world of packed phone lines and fax machines and term reviews and evolved into a mrs. doubtfire of sorts was unexpected to say the least. but it has served me well, and i feel at least slightly more on my way to the notion of a goal or dare i say "career." even so, in this economy i feel almost lucky to have the experience that i do to fall back on, regardless of whether or not one might deem it "professional" for the time being. after all, money in your pocket is money in your pocket...and hot dog do i want to buy me some vintage furniture to fill the capacious living room that stares back at me cooing fill me, fill me with crap! and i say, i say one day i shall. 

adventures in babysitting has at least improved; no longer must i deal with the quirks of asberger's, the repetitive monologues and arbitrary obsessions. the coercion to play/overwhelming presence of epic pokemon games or of star wars monopoly. the too-well-balanced meals i was forced to serve (peanut butter on lettuce?!) and my subsequent uncontrollable urge to smuggle candy and chocolate in and down their throats. misbehave, at once! nor must i ask said asberger's child of the quality of his bowel movements daily, and per strict orders report back to mommy, it was soft, like the letter "S". yes, it is possible that one can even find humor in such daily events. like every wednesday when the local fish share would arrive and i would be asked to de-gut or boil a broth out of a severed fish head...a broth which would sit and fester on the stove for days until one brave soul might venture into the backyard and dump it into a bush (true story). in comparison, my life now seems posh; i get to drive a car around cambridge, and i am invited to dinner. the worst i get is an attitude problem and snarky quips, but a i am the queen of such things so i'm bound to survive.

i'm both terrified and excited to paint, print, and solder my way through this semester. after depleting my savings account to do so, i'm attempting to be unlike my daria self and proceed with some panache. fingers crossed.

good morning

nashville

she's baaaack

lovely lovely christina ricci in nylon magazine's september issue. love this girl. so glad she's found herself a weekly spot in the new ABC series pan am.

while i'm ever so bummed that borders bookstore is now going out of business (due to the consumer's fondness for technology, all things quick and impersonal, and the subsequent horrid popularity of this *curses* kindle nonsense)...whoosh...i AM thrilled that i was able to snag a discounted copy of one of my favorite films, staring one of my favorite men (and sicilian dream), buffalo '66. upon re-watching it tonight, i was reminded just how thoroughly it rips my heart out of my asshole, each and every time. yes vincent, yes.

ooof

an ira glass pillow? dreams really do come true. 

these days