“deceptive outward appearance” by ole martin lund bø
“deceptive outward appearance” by ole martin lund bø
(Source: Flickr / theaciddreamspaceship, via lifesigns)
(via lifesigns)
Well done Berit, looks a great place to be.
is now part of the Pachydermini chapbook series by Turtleneck Press.
Many thanks to Brian Warfield for appreciating what girls really think.
Museums, piranha and girls.
Go and check out the other stories by Mark Baumer, Howie Good and Brian Warfield!
Interview Exchange with Berit Ellingsen
Berit Ellingsen and I have interviewed each other about writing and our recent book releases. My interview with Berit is at Berit Ellingsen Interview, where she discusses her influences, why she self published The Empty City and her current writing projects.
‘I hope that it will inspire the readers to listen to the silence in themselves, or that it is simply an enjoyable story. Reading is so subjective and the same story will look very different from reader to reader. I hope the readers will find something of value in the story, but what that consists of, is entirely up to the reader.’
Whilst Berit interviews me at her website, Berit Ellingsen, where I discuss Living Room Storiesand my personal journey.
‘Who am I? At times I feel I have a secure sense of self, centred on creativity, be it writing, art or photography, both to understand and express myself. At others it is as if a carpet has been pulled from under me by my self critic, fierce and unrelenting; it is in the unknown battles with my self critic I find myself falling. However due to these battles I believe I am moving to a state of curiosity and away fear in my way of being, which I am expressing via my writing.’
The final part to this interview exchange, where I respond to Berit’s request for an image I would have used as the cover to The Empty City is at The Empty City Cover.
Life. Make it count.
(Source: ciott, via art-terrorist-deactivated201204)
Katsushika Hokusai（葛飾北斎 Japanese, 1760-1849）
Willow and birds 柳に烏図
(via darksilenceinsuburbia)
Miki Wanibuchi. The End Of The Night, 2009.
Walking down the street,
to the station.
Going to work,
at the break of dawn,
in the cold winter.
speh:
The other day, a penguin showed up at St Paul’s tent settlement wearing a sign around his neck that said: “Occupy Antarctica”. We gathered round him: he was the first of his kind to join them. When passers-by congratulated him on his commitment to the cause, the penguin asked for some fish first. He then turned the board around. On the other side it said: “Pingens R Dreemers 2” showing the limits of penguin palaver. He explained how he’d come to join the movement: his home ice shelf had been acquired in the course of a financial speculation. No, he didn’t understand the details, and after interrogating some London traders he didn’t think that they understood what they were doing either. Somehow, the shelf was acquired by a rich resident of Tuvalu. But isn’t that in the Pacific Ocean, someone asked. Yes, said the penguin, so it is. Which would mean that the ice would simply melt, right. Yes, said the penguin, it would. Having lost their land, the penguin’s family and the family of his family and their families, the whole dendritic tribe, were dispersed all over the world. One of my cousins, said the penguin, works as a banker now, he said: he’s specializing in trading endangered currencies against endangered species. That’s a completely new area of creative finance, he explained. The penguin said that he was crashing at his cousin’s place and that he had a part-time job as a receptionist at the Ritz. The natural tuxedo came in handy, he said. The protesters were flocking towards other newcomers now. Undisturbed, I watched the penguin for a while as he stood there, alone now, his beak going in this direction and that, his unblinking eyes checking out the humans and their concerns around him, until he finally settled down and stared at his feet. They weren’t happy.
#46/1000. © Marcus Speh. Photo: Cape Denison, penguin after blizzard. Life here continues in spite of winds exceeding 320 km/h. Frank Hurley, 1911-1914. Source: State Library of New South Wales.
