Mommy? Are the dead souls lonely? No. They’re with us now.
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Artist: Peter Miller
Seep, ongoing series of works on canvas, various dimensions, 2009
“These are automated works on canvas, where various configurations of bundled markers are left standing on canvas for various periods of time so that the rich, pure colors seep through.” More here.
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Japan: The Gambler’s Tattoo
Clockwise From Top: (1) Tattoo of a devil (2) A tattooing expert picks design into shoulder of head gambler’s mistress. (3) Tattoo representing God of Sun, Fire and Water (4) Man’s back tattooed with image of a man dancing with a chrysanthemum, a design known as the “Gambler’s Tattoo.”
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Louis-Ferdinand Céline
“We never change. Neither our socks nor our masters nor our opinions, or we’re so slow about it that it’s no use. We were born loyal and that’s what killed us! Soldiers free of charge, heroes for everyone else, talking monkeys, tortured words, we are the minions of King Misery…It’s not a life.”
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Sweet Dreams: June Wilkinson
I honestly can’t tell you how this blog became so littered with tits and ass, but what the hell….why not? The American dream and all that was exciting about the world is long dead. All we have to hold on to, with our tiny bony hands and shiny white knuckles, are our own hopeless fading memories, like sad palm trees blowing in the wind at twilight on the last night on earth. The apocalypse and its long drawn out death rattle with its horrific breath is blowing all the dust our way. Luckily, we also have this photograph of June Wilkinson, who in the 1950s and 60s was the most photographed women in the world. Legend also has it that she was shtupping my grandfather. June also attended my Bar Mitzvah; which was more of a drug and alcohol fueled féte caught on videotape than a holy Jewish celebration of my becoming a man. I confess Rabbi Joseph, I had become a man long before. Anyhow, enjoy, until the pie hits the proverbial fan, a one June “The Bosom” Wilkinson….
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