“The abstract paintings shown here are not by Kazimir Malevich or Paul Klee but by Hindu tantra devotees from Indian cities like Jodhpur and Chomu, the anonymous heirs to a pictorial tradition that dates to the 1600s. Painted on salvaged paper and rarely measuring more than a foot high, the images possess a strange kinship with 20th-century art. And their agelessness cast a spell over Franck André Jamme, a French poet who nearly got himself killed tracking down these works across the deserts of Rajasthan…”(more)
(via buried-denmark)
We make forms. It’s what we do. I get it and I am thankful that these links exist. The ability to translate what is singular and private into terms that can be shared with others alleviates some of the loneliness that comes with having to live a life that cannot be transposed. But still it is difficult for me to shake the feeling that it is monstrous to transcribe the affections of the body or to monumentalize anything beautiful or painful or humiliating—anything that burns. Some sensations create openings inside me that I cannot narrate. I felt I had to resist the urge to narrativize the gaps that were bored into my flesh every time I made contact with something that was larger than language.
From The Morning After I Died, J Wang, HTMLGIANT
"I used to think that I could never lose anyone if I photographed them enough. In fact, my pictures show me how much I’ve lost."
Nan Goldin (via forestmilk)
(via whenwemet)
“Trace Heavens” is a series of gorgeous light installations by James Nizam. To create these images James painstakingly made incisions into the structure of a house to capture and manipulate sunlight into light sculptures.
(via buried-denmark)
Södrakull Frösakull
Architect Bruno Mathsson
Photographer Mikael Olsson
(via Lundlund)
Oh the lighting…The Conversation (1974, Francis Ford Coppola) Cinematographer: Bill Butler
(Source: macguffin, via nprfreshair)
