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90milewaterwall - Hellojessicacho: References/distractions/personal - Tumblr Blog
God, I miss Scott.
The French Dispatch (2020), dir. Wes Anderson — cinematography by Robert D. Yeoman — production design by Adam Stockhausen — art direction by Loïc Chavanon, Stéphane Cressend, Kevin Timon Hill — set decoration by Rena DeAngelo, Hélène Dubreuil
If you listen closely, you may hear bug band playing in a sunflower patch.
THE FRENCH DISPATCH (2020) dir. Wes Anderson Trailer: The Stories
@fumikoike
I can assure you, Monsieur Clarke, that Poirot never permits himself to get false impressions from anything anyone says.
Agatha Christie’s Poirot 4x01 The ABC Murders
Re-sewing a text block on single raised cords upstairs in our conservation lab.
Coniunctio – by Kyung-Me
The title comes from a medieval, alchemical concept regarding the union of opposites. Kyung-Me presents intricate works on paper ground in the directness and intimacy of drawing. Symmetry and order are prized, and shares the influence of religious art and symbolism. Kyung-Me’s concrete renderings of an imagined modernist home – her rigorously detailed interiors advance a contemporary eden, where the paragon of luxury is achieved at the expense of a trapped and alienated self.
Kyung-Me’s suite of seven meticulous pen drawings are hung sequentially so that the viewer may traverse the rooms and gain an overview of her elaborately designed interior. Adhering to a rigid one-point perspective, the rooms are replete with references to specific works of art and design objects. Many are furnished with Frank Lloyd Wright objects, citing the architect’s obsessive desire to control every aspect of his designs, down to the exact placement of domestic items. Other art works suggest a more boundless ideal: one room features a hazy Rothko, another a Jackson Pollock. In a sitting room, seen from telescoping vantage points in two of the drawings, the chaos and misery of Bruegel’s Fall of the Rebel Angels hangs beyond a perfectly-placed grand piano seen through a circular doorway. The Tale Of Genji screens and murals appear in several rooms, their axonometric perspective offering an antidote to Kyung-Me’s overarching single vanishing point. Indeed, many of the depicted artworks provide a cathartic break from the imposing order of this luxurious abode, while some, like a violated Hans Bellmer figure, echo the interior’s foreboding atmosphere. Bellmer’s bound flesh sits alone within a Japanese shelving unit, a carnal anomaly amidst Kyung-Me’s tableaux of well-appointed inanimate objects. One may also detect furtive hand or foot; the crown of a head grazing the top of a Harvey Probber sofa suggesting a figure staring out a barred window. The sumptuous domicile appears to have no exit; each room leads to the next in an anxious closed-circuit. The drawings then become a metaphor for entrapment and the desire to escape illusion.
Ever since I could remember, I had feared being found wanting. If I did the work I wanted to do, it was certain not to measure up; if I pursued the people I wanted to know, I was bound to be rejected; if I made myself as attractive as I could, I would still be ordinary looking. Around such damages to the ego a shrinking psyche had formed: I applied myself to my work, but only grudgingly; I’d make one move toward people I liked, but never two; I wore makeup but dressed badly. To do any or all of these things well would have been to engage heedlessly with life — love it more than I loved my fears — and this I could not do. What I could do, apparently, was daydream the years away: to go on yearning for “things” to be different so that I would be different.
Vivian Gornick, The Cost of Daydreaming - NYTimes.com (via arabellesicardi)
And the nameless suffering of her love has always been this: that she is asked to limit her giving.
Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge. (via xshayarsha)
this whole thing is way too good to be giffed you need to experience it
