Edward Said (via arabellesicardi)
Normandy landing that you didnt see, 1944.
Red Cross workers.
Plumbogummite with Pyromorphite
"I told her she has a big brain but she wants to have a small brain."
Submitted by: Trevor C.
Location: Maryland, United States
Me stumbling away from complementarianism.
Rineke Dijkstra - Bullfighters, 1994
the OED’s word of the day is aficionado, n., an obsolete meaning of which is ‘An amateur bullfighter’.
Charles Saatchi owns your famous piece “My Bed,” an unmade bed with the detritus of a bad few months of depression in 1998. How does the bed get installed when it travels?
I install it. Everything is in sealed containers, and it’s all labeled, like a crime scene. I did it in Frankfurt last year. I hadn’t seen it since 2008. I was thinking, with the cigarettes, that’s so weird because I don’t smoke anymore. I haven’t had sex for years, and there’s this condom. God, there’s a tampon, and I haven’t had a period for years. There’s my ex-boyfriend’s marijuana, I would never be with anyone who smokes marijuana now; there’s a whiskey bottle, and I don’t drink spirits. I get inside and pull the covers over me and then fold them back to look natural. I can actually smell the past. When I touched the condoms, I thought, Oh, I really loved that person who wore that condom. It’s a strange feeling, a good feeling. This ghost of me was still there.
Damien Hirst’s shark in formaldehyde had to be restored because it was rotting. Have you had any similar problems with the bed?
The bed mustn’t be in strong lights, otherwise the stains on the sheets will fade. The condoms are disintegrating. Charles Saatchi said, “Can you not make some more?” And I said: “No, of course I can’t make any more. You want me to fake it?” I really don’t know what we’re going to do.
21 Jul 2014 / Reblogged from shannonwest with 7,514 notes / for reference I suppose it's kind of obvious but I'd never really considered the problems of maintaining this before but then her tent (Everyone I Have Ever Slept With) did get lost in a warehouse fire I think? tracey emin saatchi art curation
Salome dances her dance of the seven veils,
The men all eye her like wolves on the hunt, this beautiful girl
finally undressing for them. Finally they can see her
exactly as they want to.
The first veil drops.
In 2007, Kim Kardashian’s ex-boyfriend
released their sex tape against her will.
Kim Kardashian, rather than hide in shame
Used the publicity to promote her own career.
Salome moves like a dream half-remembered.
Salome dances like a siren song. All the men ache
to see the hot sugar of her hip bones.
The second veil drops.
In 2014, Kim Kardashian walks down the aisle
As the whole world watches. If only all of us
were so successful in our revenge.
If only all of us stood in our Louboutin heels
on the backs of the men who betray us,
surveying the world we created for ourselves.
The third veil drops.
Kim Kardashian knows exactly what you think of her.
She presses the cloth tighter against her skin
Her smile is a promise she never intends to keep
We can almost see all of her.
Salome shows us her body
but never her eyes.
The fourth veil is dropping.
The four things most recently tweeted at Kim Kardashian were
@KimKardashian Suck My Dick
@Kim Kardashian Can I Meet Kanye?
@KimKardashian Please Fuck Me
@KimKardashian I Love You. I Love You.
Women are told to keep their legs shut.
Women are told to keep their mouths shut.
Some women are kept silent for so long,
They become experts in the silent theft of power.
The fifth veil has dropped.
Kim Kardashian made $12 million dollars this year
Yesterday, uncountable men in their miserable jobs,
told their miserable friends that Kim was a “dumb whore”
Kim Kardashian will never learn their names.
The sixth veil has dropped.
The seventh veil has dropped.
And Salome sat beside King Herod. And he swore unto her
“Whatsoever thou shalt ask of me, I will give to thee
unto the half of my kingdom”
And she smiled, and said
“Bring me the head of John the Baptist.
Punish the man who hurt me”
This one’s from Berlin, but I had no time there so here I am writing it a month later.
From Naomi, written a month late and delivered in person a further two months down the line in July 2014.
Betty’s house across the road is going up for sale shortly, that will be quite a [w]rench for her, they built it when they got married.
An achingly sad update from my granny about the goings-on in Banks.
What can you expect from an MPhil?
You will spend long hours in the library working on a topic which on a black day might seem to be of interest to no-one else in the world. You should bear in mind that you will probably be poor, and that you will almost certainly have to spend a great deal of time reading material which you find unappetising in order to master your chosen field."
Taken, (almost) verbatim, from the English Faculty website of a certain hallowed institution and it’s cracking me up.