Words.

Thinking independently hurts less when you share your thoughts. 

Put them out there.

Parquet Patterns.

Rachel Whiteread talking about drawing, collecting things, time.
An exhibition of her drawings is due at the Tate Modern in London and I’d love to see it.

Kitchen Outfits.

Autumn Leaves/Procrastination.

Autumn Leaves by housewitheyebrows.

Reasons To Panic

... or why Malevich’s black square is starting to look more and more like a plausible and realistic depiction of the future.

• Hectic red, toxic sludge is spilling all over the place and into running water about a two-hour drive from my hometown. And for once, this is not about vaporous and easily pushed-out-of-the-mind long-time effects. It’s killing people and shit, right now.
• About 25% of the inhabitants of the city I live in would simply love to be ruled by a radical right-wing government. This is disillusioning and does inspire a certain sense of uneasiness when walking through the streets.
• The only alternatives to exist in this world seem to be: asleep, arsehole, hypocrite, painful inbetween. I protest.
• Society is doing its best to convince me of my uselessness, and it has almost succeeded. I always used to have a innate sort of trust in myself and the fact that everything will turn out okay; but I’m realising that this is very likely not at all up to me, and all my potential and imagination will be of no consequence as long as reality does not comply.
• Deadlines, I hate you. Bureaucracy, I hate you even more. Being Ignored, you too!

Can I not simply ...
... well.
What?

Tennis.

Swimming around in this song.

Interrail, #3: Siena

It’s the 7th of July, and we leave Florence in the early morning for a day trip to Siena. This is the Santa Maria Novella Station in Florence, which is very aesthetic, but also (in its origins) somewhat fascist.

After a sweat-inducing ascent from Siena station to the inner city, we are greeted at the gates by the Capitoline She-Wolf, who is something of a recurring theme in Siena, because according to the legend, the town was founded by the fugitive sons of Remus after the latter had been killed by his brother.

Siena is full of stairs and steep slopes. We’re nearing the cathedral, as the striped marble intarsia all around give away ...

There it is! The best gothic church facade in Italy after Orvieto. Now don’t get distracted by the gentleman in the foreground.

Inner sanctum.

As you can see, it is all about the stripes.

Weary wandering feet.

Sacred bums.

Dead babies, courtesy of Bethlehem.

I have such fond memories of learning by heart the stylistic characteristics of these stone pulpits created by several generations of Pisanos, it was kind of exciting to see one in real life. I can’t tell whether Max is being pious again in this picture, or just tired.

Squee! It’s the bowlshaped Piazza del Campo and the Palazzo Pubblico (which is one of the buildings I’ll be comparing to this tower for a seminar this semester).

These are infuriatingly meaningless tourist pictures and I apologise.
Next stop: Cinque Terre!