Anamorposis is an illusion where a specific vantage point is needed for the image to come together. French artist Bernard Pras has made an art of assemblage. This, his latest piece, is a portrait of Malian actor Sotigui Kouyaté.
You can see it is composed of clothes, paint, wood, rubber, and other objects scraped together.
It's only when seen through his camera that the portrait comes together.
This witty and gorgeous photo series, Back to Light, from photographer Caleb Charland, has fruit, vinegar and loose change generating enough power to light lamps and LED lights.
"By inserting a galvanized nail into one side of a potato and a copper wire in the other side a small electrical current is generated. The zinc coating on the nail gives off electrons due to the electrolyte environment within the potato. These electrons then travel along the copper wire providing the electrical voltage to illuminate a small light emitting diode. The utter simplicity of this electrical phenomenon is endlessly fascinating for me."
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away".
This teaser introduced the final season of AMC's Breaking Bad, read by the show's star, Bryan Cranston.
Viking Ships in Los Angeles
The simple have their slogans, and the wise their proverbs.
A builder has wood, rough and lifeless in piles.
My eyes, they have your eyes. My breath mixes with your breath.
Once, we drew a map to your house on a brown paper napkin and sailed
through neighborhood alleys like Viking ships
until we reached your staircase, its flickering light bulb
suspended above us like some artist sketched it
over our heads to show everyone that our brains were full
of ideas. Really, we were just dreaming of buried treasure
and our hands on each other’s bodies,
tracing one another’s mouths with our tongues. Here,
on these same steps, our fingers now have
another set of fingers to hold and study like hammers or worn-faced coins.
And it’s here where I have built for us a tower,
one that stretches up from the planks of the creaking deck under our feet
so that when you and I scale it, we can look out
over all the familiar houses, yapping dogs and divorcees sunbathing in their backyards.
Each time I cup your face in my hand, I know that I’ll be with you
as my hair grows longer and my clothes become old. I know
that if you leave your body before I leave my body, I’ll carry you down
from our perch like wood from the pile, polish two coins
with my trembling fingers, and rest them on your eyes as you begin
to float down the tar-black river on a bed made of flowers and sticks.
I had the privilege of meeting Brandon (@yourmoneyisours ) during our Poesia Para La Gente on the LA Metro. He read a number of poems, but this one, read at edge of the pond in Macarthur Park just lit us all up. He was gracious enough to let me publish it here on 5 things.
The links directly to Brandon reading his poem: on Vimeo
Below is the whole video (his poem starts at 22:35)
On the Coast Near Sausalito
by Robert Hass
I won’t say much for the sea,
except that it was, almost,
the color of sour milk.
The sun in that clear
unmenacing sky was low,
angled off the gray fissure of the cliffs,
hills dark green with manzanita.
Low tide: slimed rocks
mottled brown and thick with kelp
merged with the gray stone
of the breakwater, sliding off
to antediluvian depths.
The old story: here filthy life begins.
ing, as Melville said,
“to purge the spleen,”
to put to task my clumsy hands
my hands that bruise by
pluck the legs from a prawn,
peel the shell off,
and curl the body twice about a hook.
The cabezone is not highly regarded
by fishermen, except Italians
who have the grace
to fry the pale, almost bluish flesh
in olive oil with a sprig
of fresh rosemary.
The cabezone, an ugly atavistic fish,
as old as the coastal shelf
it feeds upon
has fins of duck’s-web thickness,
resembles a prehistoric toad,
and is delicately sweet.
Catching one, the fierce quiver of surprise
and the line’s tension
are a recognition.
But it’s strange to kill
for the sudden feel of life.
The danger is
Holding the spiny monster in my hands
his bulging purple eyes
were eyes and the sun was
almost tangent to the planet
on our uneasy coast.
Creature and creatures,
we stared down centuries.
Hass' clear human voice, full of curiosity and attentiveness, has always been a deep source of inspiration for me. This poem from his first collection was one of the first of his I began to connect with in that way.
by W.S. Merwin
Naturally it is night.
Under the overturned lute with its
One string I am going my way
Which has a strange sound.
This way the dust, that way the dust.
I listen to both sides
But I keep right on.
I remember the leaves sitting in judgment
And then winter.
I remember the rain with its bundle of roads.
The rain taking all its roads.
Young as I am, old as I am,
I forget tomorrow, the blind man.
I forget the life among the buried windows.
The eyes in the curtains.
Growing through the immortelles.
I forget silence
The owner of the smile.
This must be what I wanted to be doing,
Walking at night between the two deserts,
Former poet laureate W.S. Merwin visit the Florida Studio Theatre and we are proud to have this exclusive video.
BY MARIE HOWE
I had no idea that the gate I would step through
to finally enter this world
would be the space my brother's body made. He was
a little taller than me: a young man
but grown, himself by then,
done at twenty-eight, having folded every sheet,
rinsed every glass he would ever rinse under the cold
and running water.
This is what you have been waiting for, he used to say to me.
And I'd say, What?
And he'd say, This—holding up my cheese and mustard sandwich.
And I'd say, What?
And he'd say, This, sort of looking around.
“The Gate” from What the Living Do by Marie Howe. © 1997 by Marie Howe. Used by permission of W.W. Norton & Company, Inc.
I am proud to have had Howe as a workshop teacher twice while in grad school. As much as she did teach me in those rooms about reading, and risk and voice, her work has taught me more.
Here recent interview on NPR with Krista Tippet has a lot of the insight and voice I remember so clearly.
Our own Devereau Chumrau has been killing it as Hunter in the West Coast premiere of the stage version of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. Not only have the dedicated Gaiman and Neverwhere fans been sounding their support and love (here and here), but the LA Times chimed in with its own review. And then, Gaiman himself made it to the show last night, staying to hang out for a couple hours afterwards with the cast and crew.
With such a great collection of talent, it isn't surprising that the show has had an extra performance night (Thursdays) add and that the run has been extended 2 weeks until May 25.
If you want to go, just get your tickets online ahead of time as it is very often sold out.
Sean Lenz and Kristoffer Abildgaard created this stunning project, Neon Luminance. They Cyalume glow sticks into several Northern Californian waterfalls and then took long exposure photos of the effect. The sticks, sealed up to prevent any leaks, floated down the fall and then were collected by the team, leaving no impact on the falls or their watersheds.
Besides doing this everyday, I have a day job as a user experience designer for BermanBraun here in Santa Monica.
The cycle for producing an iOS app can vary in length quite a bit. When I first sketched on the screens for SKYE WEATHER+PHOTO in early 2012, I wasn't sure where the exploration would take me.
The app is live now (iTunes link) and I am excited to hear what you think.
There are two main sections of the app: forecast and photos.
The forecast section includes current, hourly and 7-day weather information for places around the world.
The photo section lets you discover photos (with weather information stenciled on) in any of the locations around the world. And, if you like, you can add weather stencils to any of your own photos.
Your weather photos tell the story of your experience, the way it felt to be there at that moment. You can share your photos out to your social networks, save them to your camera roll, and document the weather for those places.
Here are some of my favorite photos I've taken with the app: