these are the timesdirty beloved


An American of French and Austro-Hungarian extraction, Vivian bounced between Europe and the United States before coming back to New York City in 1951. Having picked up photography just two years earlier, she would comb the streets of the Big Apple refining her artistic craft. By 1956 Vivian left the East Coast for Chicago, where she’d spend most of the rest of her life working as a caregiver. In her leisure Vivian would shoot photos that she zealously hid from the eyes of others.   
Vivian Maier Photographer

                                                                           Velka Lomnica Czechoslovakia 1963 

Josef Koudelka
Exhibition - Gypsies - sélection 109 photos
at magnum
In the early 70's I was devouring aperture and other art/photo mags when I could, noticing how often magnum showed up in bitchin photos here and there in the media, and in the seminal art book of 50's childhood the Family of Man, so when I got online and went to to magnum's site I was slammed into disappointment and disheartened by the watermarking defacing proprietary walling-in of their archives.
Nice to see they've stopped doing that. Finally. Whenever they did. Because I haven't been back in 14 years or so. Til today.

Outstanding Photo Galleries From Grand Masters That Will Take You By Surprise- Part 1 - 50 Color Photographs Which Will Tell You Light Is Everything In Photography
both with links out from photos to the photographers' sites
 via Shahidul Alam, somehow.
Read his beautiful piece on the death of his father here



Mary who mattered to me, gone or asleep
among fruits, spilled

in ash, in dust, I did not

leave you. Even now I can't keep from
composing you, limbs & blue cloak

& soft hands. I sleep to the sound

of your name...
Mary Szybist
Poetry Foundation

I think it’s a myth that the creative inspiration is locked up inside the person and just needs a quiet space and the right “serious” (brooding) moment to get released. I think art is much more about an engagement with the world, a way of being called upon and recognizing that the world is speaking to you. Which isn’t quite solitude, even if you’re alone when it happens.
Rachel Kushner Guernica

Blog Archive


db annex larger,longer image-heavy posts