#and to install you in a museum as a work of art for people to enjoy

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[copperbadge]

Recently I ran across an article about an art center that was doing creative expression classes for people with disabilities. Not that unusual, I've encountered that and trauma-oriented art therapy before, but it was the first time I'd come across the idea since getting diagnosed with ADHD. While the class was aimed more at high-needs disabilities, it occurred to me that I could -- if I wanted -- make non-prose art about being disabled.

Outside of my work in scene design I've never been much of a visual artist because I've never felt I had the combination of "something to say" and "a meaningful way to say it", but I started to question how meaningful and complex I really had to be to just make some statements about having ADHD. I can do it in prose, after all.

So I started thinking about how you would talk, in visual language, about things like time blindness, shame stemming from undiagnosed disability, the shift in behavior that medication can induce. Ways to express my condition to people who don't experience it. I still didn't really know how to build the pieces but whenever I went to an art museum I'd think about how I might do a gallery installation. The centerpiece of my mental gallery was a pair of barcodes, one marked "Neurotypical" and one marked "Neurodivergent".

[ID: An interior view of a small booklet, with pages marked 1 and 2, showing barcodes -- on the left, labeled Neurotypical, and on the right, in slightly weirder configuration, labeled Neurodivergent.]

And then I thought, why not make a zine? Nothing you're thinking of couldn't be put in zine form instead of on a gallery wall.

[ID: The booklet continues to pages 3 and 4; on page 3 is a postage-style label reading AUTISM with up arrows on either side, and on page 4 is a QR code labeled ADHD. The QR code technically should work but it just dumps a block of text I wrote about having ADHD into a browser.]

I grew up with zine culture in the 90s and I always wanted to make one but much like with visual art, I never felt like I had the right kind of thing to say; either I had too much to say or too little, and anyway I wasn't confident that what I wanted to do wouldn't just come off as trite and obvious. But you can make a six-page zine out of a single sheet of paper, so I did: I made Helpful Labels For Strange Brains by idab zines, a division of Extribulum Press. (i--dab is a term for a cuneiform tablet that contains a royal communication.)

[ID: The last two pages feature the same image -- a cereal bowl with a spoon in it, the spoon containing a single Adderall pill. One image, however, is captioned "Wake up. Pour yourself a cup of iced coffee. Fix a bowl of cereal. It's going to be a good day." while the other is covered in a detailed ADHD-style step-by-step process for the same actions, culminating in "It's going to be a day like that."]

I'm pretty pleased with how it came out -- the art all looks intentional and it still has that "taped this together after school" aesthetic I remember fondly from the 90s. And the confines of six pages, each only a few inches square, offers a good structure to keep things clear, simple, and meaningful.

[ID: The cover of the zine, labeled "Helpful Labels For Strange Brains" in a kind of esoteric stampy font.]

Especially nice is that if you wanted to you could just hand out the flat sheet, and let folks fold it into a booklet or not -- there's instructions for folding it on the back of the zine. Additionally I have some sticker backed printer paper so I could print it such that you could literally turn the labels into real labels.

Anyway if you want it, here ya go. You can print it on a single sheet of paper and follow the instructions on the back to fold it. I thought about selling it but I do not have the spoons to do a bunch of printing and folding and shipping.

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SEMIFINALS MATCH ONE

"Can’t Help Myself" (2016 - Sun Yuan & Peng Yu) / "NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt" (1985-present)

CAN'T HELP MYSELF: It’s better to watch a video of it in action. It’s a large robot arm that’s only programmed to repeatedly sweep a pool of red liquid around it. But its task is never done, the liquid eventually oozes back out onto the floor. It just makes me so sad, the futility of its work. Brilliantly, the artists even programmed it to do little gestures during its work. Sometimes the arm will shake or almost wave at the audience. So it feels less mechanical, like it has a personality. People have interpreted it to symbolize many ideas. Like the futility of violence, and those who are tasked with the endless recovery and clean up. It could be about worker exploitation, the dehumanization of victims of violence, policing borders. Regardless of what it means, I feel pity whenever I see it. (nicolaleecallahan)

NAMES PROJECT AIDS MEMORIAL QUILT: fucks me up bc so many people died and so many people suffered and their partners didn’t have legal rights as next of kin and so many had been disowned by their parents and had to be held by a stranger while they were dying and if i could resurrect anyone in the world i’d dig up either reagan or thatcher and kill them again (jaskierx)

("Can't Help Myself" is a Kuka industrial robot made of stainless steel and rubber mopping up cellulose ether in coloured water made by two Chinese artists, Sun Yuan & Peng Yu. This installation was displayed in Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York but was removed from display.

The "NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt" is an ongoing community art project honoring people who passed away due to AIDS-related causes. It consists of approximately 50,000 panels of 3 by 6 feet (0.91 m × 1.83 m) panels, which is an estimated 54 tons of material. It is currently housed in San Francisco, but is often displayed in various places in the United States.)

[polish-art-tournament]

sculptures* round 1 poll 13

Wesiune thana by Małgorzata Mirga-Tas, 2016:

propaganda: This kind of art installations are a lot about space, who gets to dominate a space, to transform it, what does it mean to transform it in which way - the artist is Roma, the specific side transformed here is a museum, showing Roma housing and objects. The article in the link is a cool read about it, and really talks about it much better than I ever could, give it a read!

Space of unknown growth by Magdalena Abakanowicz, 1998:

propaganda: At least people I've talked to seem to be more familar with Magdalena Abakanowiczs "Agora" but I wanted to high light this work in contrast. Agora with the headless humanoid figures has something creepy, the artist spoke about crowds tendency to blindly follow even into horrible violence, but it also for me has the depersonalisation/objectification of the figures which is its own form of violence - in contrast these large rocks are softer in a way, more approchable, a nicer story, the title of the work with the shape of the rocks and the surrounding forest makes me thing of seeds, hope - of course just because something is a nicer story to hear doesn't make it a better story to hear, I am glad that hard to shallow work like Agora exist, we need to think and talk about stuff that is hard, but I also like that work like "Space of Unknown Growth" exists.

[livwritesstuff]

elaborating on a throwaway line in this in which I referenced robin telling one of steddie's daughters to pull a fire alarm

So Robin and Nancy have elected to remain childless. Among other reasons, they love their jobs, and their jobs involve a lot of travel (plus women can still have happy and fulfilling lives without pursuing motherhood, blah blah blah). 

Despite not wanting children of their own, they do still like kids and love being aunts to Steve and Eddie’s daughters. They make an effort to take them off their dads’ hands for a day at least once every month or so.

The first time Robin and Nancy take all three girls, Moe is 5, Robbie is 3, and Hazel is about 6 months old. At the time, Moe and Robbie are very into being fancy – tea parties, and dressing up as princesses, and Eddie’s been on a kick of reading to them old books about tragic children – think Secret Garden and A Little Princess – and Moe’s just old enough to start getting into American Girl Dolls and she’s obsessed with Samantha (“of course she likes the fanciest one the best,” Ed had grumbled about this, “She’s you to a goddamn T, Stevie.”), so they figured that taking the girls to Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts (where Robin works as a curatorial chair) would be a good idea, because they could get all dressed up and act like proper ladies.

Secretly, Steve thought they were crazy. He and Eddie are hesitant to even bring the girls to the children’s museum these days nevermind a prestigious fine arts museum, but he’s also aware that they tend to behave a hell of a lot better around other people than they do around their dads (also, he and Eddie haven’t had a kid-free day together since even before Hazel was born, so he keeps his mouth shut).

It all goes completely smoothly, actually, up until it takes a dramatic downward spiral. They do get very dressed up, and before they head over to the museum, they have brunch at a tea room where Robin flexes the history half of her art history education to tell the girls all about “fancy people” decorum. Then, about halfway through their tour of the museum, three-year-old Robbie points at the one non-art object installed in the wall – a bright red fire alarm – and asks, “What’s that say?”

Had Nancy been asked this question, she would have said something like, “That’s a fire alarm. We only touch fire alarms if there’s a fire. If there was a fire here, you would pull the handle and it would make a loud noise so everyone knows to get out of the building.”

Unfortunately for the entire museum that Saturday afternoon, Robbie doesn’t ask Nancy.

She asks Robin.

And Robin tells her, “It says ‘pull.’”

Nancy’s call to Steve goes something like this:

“Hi. Just want to let you know before you see it on the news that your daughter managed to evacuate the entire museum.”

“What?”

“Robin told her to do it.”

“Please elaborate before I have a heart attack.”

[uwmspeccoll]

It’s Fine Press Friday!  

Today we’re taking a closer look at some of Indianapolis-based artist Carl Pope’s (b. 1961 ) work—a portfolio of broadsides produced for the installation series The Bad Air Smelled of Roses. The edition in our collection consists of 71 letterpress prints of varying dimensions (all around 56 x 36 cm) produced with wood type at York Show Prints in York, Alabama (formerly run by Amos Paul Kennedy, whose works are also represented in our collection) and Tribune Showprint in Earl Park, Indiana (“the oldest continuously operating letterpress shop in the country”) on poster and chip board between 2004-2005, nearly all of which are signed by the artist.  

Pope characterizes the work, which has grown since its original iteration to include 108 posters, as “an ongoing essay about the presence and function of Blackness in society” and an exploration of the "various psychological and emotional states like forgetfulness, insanity, alienation" associated with "the poetics of Blackness." He chose to present a selection of texts drawn from a variety of sources including “modern Black literature, René Descartes, jazz and rap music, Sigmund Freud, Malcolm X, Dolly Parton, movie dialogue from Casablanca and The Matrix...” in letterpress print form because of the medium’s historical associations with marketing and political activism.   

When installed in the rarified context of an art gallery or museum, as this series has now been exhibited on numerous occasions, the commercial qualities of Pope’s posters incite a productive slippage in our assumptions around high and low culture. As he puts it in a 2018 interview with Hyperallergic, “I don’t see culture as the production of beautiful paintings and works of art, you know, although culture includes that. For me the production of progressive culture is the collaborative practice with myself and other people in the world of ideals, to create and to advance human evolution... I’m not interested in using art as a tool for cultural imperialism.”     

View more Fine Press Friday posts.  

View Amos Paul Kennedy posts. 

View more letterpress posts.

View more wood type posts.

– Ana, Special Collections Graduate Fieldworker 

[otrtbs]

hi! could you explain a little bit what you studied and if you did any apprenticeship before you got a job ? a little summary to how you got there ? i’m so curious (and i admire you a lot)

hiya!! sure!!

so back in high school i actually started volunteering at my local art museum when i was 16 (up until i graduated at 18). they had a program specifically designed for teens to volunteer at the museum (i gave guided tours, and helped plan events at the museum, and worked with kids 3-12 in a drop-in studio every saturday where they could make art of their own after looking in the gallery) <- not a lot of museums do this, but you can call and ask if they need volunteer docents for the weekends !! they’ll train you!!

then i majored in art history in undergrad (making sure to focus my courses in modern and contemporary art towards the end of my studies bc that’s what i wanted to do! also i took a LOT of french classes. as in i only needed a few credits to have a minor but the last class was so hard i dropped it) to give yourself a leg up, i recommend studying a language (italian, french, spanish, german) most jobs in ARH require at least a minimal reading knowledge of another language.

while i was in school, i got a job at my university’s art museum as a gallery assistant! (<- fancy way of saying i walked around the galleries and told people not to touch the paintings and answered their questions if they asked and made sure no one was trying to steal the art)

during the summer, i got a summer internship at an art gallery in the biggest city close to my house (bc i moved back home w my parents in the summertime. uni housing was crazy expensive) and that was the *most* instrumental. i learned how to write wall texts, how to install artworks, i made studio visits to artists, updated the gallery website, handled artist contracts, you name it! it was great experience!!

i also got involved in art history/fine arts clubs at my university! i was on the fine arts council at my uni which represented the art and art history department to the student senate and the university at large. and the art historical society.

then i got my master’s degree in history of art theory and display, joined the art historical society at that university, got a degree and entered my FLOP ERA OF THE CENTURY

and by that i mean, i was 6 months unemployed and moved back home w my parents flop era. no one would hire me ,, no one would even give me a call back to tell me they didn’t wanna hire me ,,, and then one day someone did !! rahhh!!!! and i got some of my research approved 4 publishing and now im here!!!! (i say this not to discourage you but to let you know that the job market for art history ppl is tough,, it has always been tough,, but if you love it, it’s never a waste to pursue!)

i would do a few things differently if i had a second go at it, just to get a leg up so here’s some advice that im giving but i DIDNT DO myself:

1) try to minor in something to give you a leg up! a language is good, marketing is good, public relations… something to make you stand out!

2) try to get things published as an undergrad or a grad student! get your research out there if you can (way easier said than done ik ik) have some things you can list under your publications tab on your CV

3) if you find yourself in a 6+ month jobless, flop era period like me, volunteer somewhere at a museum or gallery if you are able. i was bitter as fuck that i had a masters degree and would be working at a museum for free when i needed money so i didn’t do it ,, but when someone finally calls back and you get an interview and they ask what you’ve been up to recently ,,, telling them you spend your time volunteering in museum spaces and working in your desired environment looks so much better than saying “i’ve been job searching” i promise !! (<- also just recognizing the extreme privilege i had to just stay at home and look for jobs in my desired field instead of immediately having to get a job somewhere. but im not gonna lie to you. i put out applications at olive garden and einstein’s bagels and they both rejected me. so. i was scrambling bc my student loans were due and i had zero dollars 2 my name 🧍‍♀️)

okay i rambled on for entirely tooooooo long. but i hope this was helpful somewhat !!! 💗💗

[thecolorblockcurator]

✨Art Ask Game✨

What painting would you want to live in?

Have you ever seen an art piece or installation in person- that moved you so much you cried?

What artist do you wish people knew more about?

What art work or artist got you interested in art history?

Share a photo of your favorite renaissance artwork

Share a photo of your favorite rococo artwork

Share a photo of your favorite impressionist artwork

Share a photo of your favorite pre-raphaelite artwork

Share a photo of your favorite art nouveau artwork

Share a photo of your favorite post impressionist artwork

Share a photo of your favorite art deco artwork

Share a photo of your favorite surrealist artwork

Share a photo of your favorite abstract expressionist artwork

Share a photo of your favorite Modernist artwork

Share a photo of your favorite contemporary artwork

What museum or gallery do you want to visit?

Have you ever been to a museum’s archives?

What is the coolest or most memorable art exhibition you’ve ever been to?

What is your favorite book - non fiction or fiction about art?

You suddenly have all of the money, space, inspiration, & time to start learning a new medium - what would you choose?

Would you rather make & sell your art for others to connect with, or keep your art private & just for yourself to enjoy

What is your advice for creative block?

What do you find more visually interesting, color or texture?

You can only use one color in your artwork for the rest of your life- what color (and its shades) would you use?

Share the hex code your precise favorite color or color combination.

What art medium is the most challenging for you?

Share a piece currently working on- in any medium. If you’re not working on anything share an idea for your next project

When decorating your home- Would you rather find a bunch of eclectic art from an antique store, or paint a mural on your wall?

What is your favorite thing you own that was made by an artist? (Could include prints, stickers, painting, sculpture, handmade ceramics, portraits) share a photo of it!

Share an art piece that you’re really proud of.

[longlistshort]

Sarah Meyohas, “Interference #19”, 2023, Holograms, mirrored black glass, aluminum

Georgia O’Keeffe, “Poppy”, 1927, Oil on canvas

Francis Picabia “The Church of Montigny, Effect of Sunlight” 1908, Oil on canvas (left); Christian Sampson “Projection Painting”, 2023, Acrylic and films with LED light; and Claude Monet “The Houses of Parliament, Effect of Fog, London” 1904, Oil on canvas (right)

The Nature of Art exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts St. Petersburg merges art from the museum’s collection with loaned works to explore- “art’s crucial role in our evolving quest to understand our relationship with nature and our place in the cosmos”.

One of the benefits of an encyclopedic museum is that visitors have the opportunity to experience art throughout history, and to revisit works that resonate with them. For the section titled Artist as Curator, Sarah Meyohas and Christian Sampson chose pieces from the museum’s collection to pair with their own work.

From the museum-

At first glance, perhaps, these may seem like unusual combinations, but upon deeper contemplation, their selections reveal complementary artistic intents. For instance, Meyohas and Georgia O’Keeffe share an interest in close looking, particularly in finding new ways to examine underappreciated aspects of the natural world. Sampson, influenced by the California Light and Space Movement, is interested in current scholarship that suggests the hazy fog found in Claude Monet’s work is an early depiction of air pollution, offering an entirely new perspective on the artist’s representations of light.

Sampson also created the four-part installation, Tempus volat, hora fugit, on view until 2025 at the museum.

Below are some of the works from additional sections of the exhibition.

Postcommodity, “kinaypikowiyâs”, 2021, Four 30.5-metre industrial debris booms

Postcommodity is an interdisciplinary art collective comprised of Cristóbal Martínez (Genizaro, Manito, Xicano), and Kade L. Twist (Cherokee).

About Postcommodity’s work, kinaypikowiyâs, (seen above) from the museum-

This work is composed of debris booms, used to catch and hold environmental contaminants such as garbage, oil, and chemicals. The colors of the booms correspond to different types of threats— red (flammable), yellow (radioactive), blue (dangerous), and white (poisonous)-in the labeling system for hazardous materials. To indigenous peoples, these are shared medicine colors that carry knowledge, purpose and meaning throughout the Western Hemisphere. Suspended like hung meat, the booms represent a snake that has been chopped into four parts. Each part represents an area of the colonial map of the Western Hemisphere: South America, Central America, North America, and all of the surrounding islands. The title, kinaypikowiyâs, is a Plains Cree word, meaning snake meat. Divided by borders, Postcommodity asserts that all people living in the Americas are riding on the back of this snake.

James Casebere, “Landscape with Houses (Dutchess County, NY), 2009, Archival pigment print mounted to Dibond

James Casebere creates architecturally based models for the large scale photographs seen above.

Duke Riley's Reclaimed ocean plastic sculptures and “Tidal Fool” wallpaper

Duke Riley’s work, which was previously shown at Brooklyn Museum, addresses issues of environmental pollution by using discarded plastics found in the ocean and other waterways to create new work inspired by the past. You can hear him discuss his work in this video.

From the museum-

Inspired by the maritime museum displays he saw while a child growing up in New England, Riley’s scrimshaw series is a cutting observation of capitalist economies-historic and today-that endanger sea life. The sculptures were created for the fictional Poly S. Tyrene Memorial Maritime Museum, and are contemporary versions of sailors’ scrimshaw, or delicately ink-etched whale teeth and bone. Riley first thought about using plastic as an ode to scrimshaw when he saw what he thought was a whale bone washed up on the beach in Rhode Island; it turned out to be the white handle of a deck brush. Riley regularly removes trash from beaches and waterways, and often uses this refuse in his work.

Riley collaborated with Brooklyn-based Flavor Paper to create these two custom wallpapers for his solo exhibition DEATH TO THE LIVING, Long Live Trash at the Brooklyn Museum. Tidal Fool exhibits Riley’s trademark humor in the face of devastating water pollution; notice the Colt 45-guzzling mermaid. Wall Bait vibrantly references Riley’s meticulous fishing lures, which he crafts from refuse found in the waters around New York City.

Daniel Lind-Ramos,"Centinelas de la luna nueva (Sentinels of the New Moon)", 2022-2023, Mixed media

From the museum about this work-

In Centinelas de la luna nueva, he evokes the elders of the mangroves, spiritual beings who watch over and ensure the health of this essential coastal tree. Mangroves are the basis for a complex ecosystem that shelters sea life and serves as the first line of defense in the tropical storms that batter the sub-tropics -including Florida.

Lind-Ramos's practice reflects the vibrant culture of his native Loíza, Puerto Rico, by honoring local agriculture, fishing, cooking, and masquerade. His sculptures also evoke Hurricane Maria (2017), the COVID-19 pandemic, and ongoing environmental degradation. Lind-Ramos is committed to the survival and sustenance of Afro-Taíno traditions and people of the Puerto Rican archipelago. However, his art engages the global community through shared emotions, parallel histories, and the commonality of human experience.

The next post will discuss two other artists in the exhibition, Brookhart Jonquil and Janaina Tschäpe.

[desafinado]

ooh if you’re taking requests I would love to ask for something kaveh related,, I love him and his recent appearances have me going feral

I was thinking maybe something with an artist s/o?? with his whole arts and romance thing I think it would be so cute 😭 sketching out his building ideas and such together..I just crave kaveh content tbh

✎, ੈ♡ kaveh with an artistic s/o

°｡⋆ kaveh x reader 

°｡⋆ artsy stuff, sickening fluff (yk the drill), love, beloved, dear

note: reader is described to be an appreciator of all art in general (visual arts and writing specifically)  just take what resonates lol, but yeah ^^ also ahh i wrote a song sorta similar to this concept before called “art museum” so i took inspo from that skjfsdf

if you think about it, everything you see has its own artistry, its own beauty; beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all. among all the things and people, however, you found kaveh to be the most beautiful thing of them all.

his creations were just as beautiful, of course. you couldn’t help but adore the details, the aesthetics, the everything. he was clearly someone who created with his heart on his sleeve, and it was why you admired him so dearly.

and while you had this respectful and deep admiration for him, he would only praise you for giving him such inspiration in the first place, whether it be the art you create or the love you give him.

he’d watch in awe, seeing you create visuals that make him swoon, and write words that almost bring him to tears.

if he wasn’t dating you, he’d still definitely be your number one fan.

that being said, you are dating, so expect that you do the most nerdy art things together; going to art museums, painting and wine dates, simply sitting in the living room and reading each other poetry (or even making some).

“hmm, and you were there, a heavenly body, a star, whose presence i had been blessed with.” “k-kaveh! you don’t need to read every poem… haven’t you flustered me enough, today?” “i wasn’t reading that time, beloved.”

everything reminds you of each other; when you both get home, you spend the first 30 minutes telling each other of everything you saw today that reminded you of each other.

more so, when it’s art. you both could go on for hours.

“i saw a newly installed statue today, i think it was a representation of spring, blooming and such?” “hmm… sounds lovely, i’d love to see it and interpret it for myself.” “well, for me, it only ever reminded me of you.”

helping each other with your arts; i mean, art is a form of expression and you think kaveh brings out the best in you vice-versa.

he’ll ask for your opinion on sketches, how he can improve and get his feelings across better. he’ll often feign naivety and ask you to help him draw it, just so he can get you to hold him closer.

“dear… i truly haven’t a clue what you mean. could you maybe guide my hand and help me understand?”

you know what he’s doing, of course, but you’re not complaining. you’ll even tease him and whisper softly into his ear; he asked for it after all.

when you’re writing, painting, sketching or doing anything at all really, you can expect him to be watching. he’ll hum in agreement or gently speak some words of affirmation.

when he notices you being a bit stuck, a bit uninspired and frustrated, or simply overworked, he’ll be quick to coax you into bed to cuddle.

he knows how easily you might get into your head, overthinking your work, critiquing every small detail, so he’ll simply get you to stop thinking period.

he’ll stroke your head, caress your cheeks, and mindlessly draw circles on your neck, while reading you your favorite poetry.

if all else fails, he takes you out to see the sunset/sunrise (whichever is more convenient). underneath the dance of colors, the borders between day and night, he reminds you how beautiful the world is. without over complicating everything, the world simply creates all its wonders as they are.

he won’t let go of you until you get a well deserved night’s rest, and you can always expect to be right there when you wake up.

and you wake up to see that lazy smile of his, slightly squinted eyes and groggy morning voice; there’s a tenderness as he greets you a “good morning, beautiful.” and you know feel all your worries melt away.

you think he’s a being way beyond any piece of art, because he gives you reasons to face the next day, and have the courage to express yourself.

that and you can kiss him silly until you can only say each other’s names.

requests are open!! please do not repost on other sites.

[copperbadge]

[ID: Two photographs taken on the terrace of the Museum of the Art Institute of Chicago, depicting a new-looking picnic bench; one image shows the city behind it, mainly Millennium Park, and the other shows it in relation to a seated dining area. In neither image is it particularly impressive.]

Publicity I've seen recently from the Museum of the Art Institute of Chicago has been mentioning an installation by John Knight called "a work in situ", which was pitched as kind of a whimsically oversized picnic bench situated on the terrace outside the museum's fancier eatery, Terzo Piano. I was going to a lecture at the museum anyway last week so I thought I'd bop on up to the third floor and see it, but man, it's an awkward installation.

For one thing, they've never really utilized the terrace well -- there's some outdoor seating nearby that's awkwardly blocked off from the terrace itself, but it's not particularly welcoming and you feel very self-conscious wandering around on it when a bunch of people spending $60 per person on a meal are watching. The view isn't spectacular either since you're staring through that fence overlooking the park, and it's broken up by both the fence and the walkway from the park into the museum.

But also like, A Work In Situ isn't particularly impressive, as you can see. The image they use in the marketing makes it look a lot larger than it is; I'd put it at barely over 25% scale, easily sittable by an average adult human, and a single slightly-larger-than-ordinary picnic bench in this big open terrace just looks like it was left there by mistake or stashed there by a groundskeeper until he can install it. I feel like I've eaten at more awkward and interesting picnic benches in your average state park. Like at least if you're going to have this weird awkward object next to a restaurant, move it in and serve meals on it.

I love the Art Institute and I've been a member for over a decade; I take a lot of pleasure in it as my "home" museum, but man when they whiff they really whiff. I think I might go back next weekend and see some old favorites and maybe make some new friends just so this isn't the only thing I have to say about them this week.

[libras-interactives]

I have two questions about the utdm gang, mostly just for fun. How would they dress in the modern age and what would their ideal day off look like?

Marius:

Dresses very well (when he can afford it...), clothes are always clean and hair always done even if his apartment is shit lol. In modern times he'd stand out bc he'd wear "old fashioned" 1920s dandy styles, or clothes "meant for women" like crop tops and cute shorts, and bright colors.

Ideal day off in both modern and 20's is going out to eat and dance with friends. You could convince him to stay in, but he'd still want to do something engaging and invite lots of people over. It's actually nice when he gets a boyfriend bc then hes out on dates all the time instead of bugging the far more introverted Jack and Eveline.

Jack:

Already has no sense of fashion lmao,,, doesnt change much in modern times. Jeans, work boots and a tanktop. Maybe a button down or flannel if he's gotta look nice. Denim overalls if he's gotta work, a baseball cap he got for free at a feed store to keep the sun outta his eyes. Owns more work clothes than "regular" clothes for sure, and knows how to mend them.

A day off where you actually got Jack to relax: walking in a nice nature reserve or forest with no people, or a friend or two. Maybe some fishin', and grilling said fish in the evening with some friends over a fire. Going to sleep actually at peace and content with himself. God bless.

Lottie:

Wears whatever's on trend at the time, albeit with her own spin. She can look good in basically anything, would def be one of those fashion insta girlies. An ideal day off would be a nice spa day followed by shopping or a night out with her best friends. They could be doing anything - restaurant, dancing, a horror movie marathon.

Eveline:

Likes thrifting (and antiqueing in general), and prefers to alter and sew her own clothes. She's very opinionated against fast fashion haha. She'd be the one buying handmade jewelry at festivals. An ideal day off would be some restful fucking sleep with no one interrupting her enjoying a quiet morning at a cafe, browsing an antique shop or little bookstore, and going home to cook something while listening to a podcast/radioshow. Marius can come over and bring his friends if they do the dishes afterward lol.

Little Lottie:

Buying clothing for LL is an Endeavor (tm) bc of her sensory sensitivities and the fact like, trying on clothes in Walmart or Old Navy would be an awful experience for her. Also, when she likes an outfit, she doesn't want to wear anything else. So when they find a favorite thing, Lottie buys like three or five of them in increasingly larger sizes so LL can still have that specific shirt or dress when she gets bigger. She'll wear her halloween costume for months if she loves it.

Little Lottie's ideal "day off" in modern is much the same as it would be in canon; she wants a warm, secure home with no sudden noises or women shouting or strange men coming and going. She'd want to have space to lay out her legos and books and stuffed animals, and not be bothered or interrupted, but not alone - she wants to look up and see Lottie or MC close by in case she needs them. And when she's done playing she wants to go to their side for a snack and juice and be read to.

(Playing outside would be fun too, but parks and zoos are overwhelming and have lots of people - so a big backyard with a sandbox would be like, perfect)

Slyvester:

Still dresses like he's in the 50's; he is not that old in the modern times, he's just stuffy and overly fastidious. At least he doesn't wear a hat and jacket all the time. Supposedly, there's photo evidence of him in a hawaiian shirt and sandals with socks in the myriads of family photo albums his wife keeps.

As for a day off - lord this man needs it - he has a list of places his wife Viviana wants to go, anywhere from museum exhibits to weird performative art installments to a tiny hole in the wall Greek place she heard about 4 years ago to the local Renfaire. In modern times it'd be much easier for her to get about with a wheelchair, so they can go out more. They're more restricted in the 1920s, but they try to make it work whenever Slyvester's off for a few days. Alas, big shocker, Flynn doesn't allow many of those.

Lightning bonus round Malwina is a normal happy teenager who likes going to ☆spooky☆ dead malls and doing tiktok dances with her friends and little sisters. Máire never left Ireland, is the reluctant mom-friend to her coworkers at the lesbian bar, and is v active in the Dublin punk & queer community. And is properly divorced LOL.

[mothbart]

12 days of kolowv: day 6

my baby @theapocryphaofantares's birthday is in six days, and because i love him with all my heart he gets a small microfic every day until he gets his big present on his actual birthday.

thank you to @ninety-two-bees for helpin' me with a prompt. microfic is based off of monongahela park by aaron west and the roaring twenties

prompt: rockstar | past bartylus & past rosekiller | words: 2,036 | warnings: past alcoholism, lots of self deprecation, angst

Regulus Black was the last person that Barty expected to see when he came home from tour.

He’d only been home for a week, and his schedule was busy at first, trying to spend time with as many people as he could before he had to hit the road again the week after. After day four, he had run out of things to do and he was getting antsy. It wasn’t until an old friend from high school had asked Barty if he’d be down to help his dad install some garage doors since his partner had the flu, so he agreed. He didn’t know how to fucking install garage doors, but it was something and he needed to use his hands. Barty was in the middle of installing a garage door when he heard the familiar voice behind him. When he turned around, he felt his breath get caught in his throat when they locked eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Barty asked, a smile breaking out on his face. “Shit—I thought you skipped town after high school graduation.”

“I did,” Regulus replied sheepishly. “It’s weird—you know, being back and everything.”

“I’d love to catch up with you,” Barty said, standing up straighter. He brushed the dirt off of his jeans and he wanted to pinch himself to make sure that this wasn’t just a dream. “What are you doing Friday?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware,” Regulus answered.

“Meet me down at Maggie’s?”

“Of course,” Regulus said, nodding his head. “I look forward to it.”

And before Barty knew it, it was Friday and he was standing in front of his mirror, making sure that his outfit was somewhat decent. He grabbed his pack of smokes off the dresser and shoved them in his jacket pocket. He cursed under his breath when he walked outside and the cold breeze hit his face. The walk to Maggie’s wasn’t too bad, and luckily he was only less than ten minutes away.

When he walked inside, the dive bar was full of people and people recognized him quickly. While making his way up to the bar, people were clapping his back, welcoming him back home and calling him a celebrity when he’s anything but. He was able to find a spot at the corner of the counter that had two stools free, and after he ordered a tonic, he went over and took his seat.

He was shaking his leg, something he did when he’s feeling anxious and he couldn’t believe Regulus still made him feel this nervous. When the bartender handed him the small glass of tonic water, he took a small sip while wincing. It’s not the same—of course, he’d love to have a shot of gin in it but it is what it is.

He checked his watch a couple of times, and after the fifteen minute mark, he spotted Regulus walking inside, his cheeks pink from the cold weather and his hair a bit messy from the wind. He watched as Regulus scanned the bar, and when they made eye contact, Regulus was quick to maneuver around the crowd to get close to Barty.

“Sorry,” he said. “I had to help Sirius with a few things before and I wasn’t aware how long it would take.”

“No worries,” Barty replied. “Drink?”

They spent an hour talking—Barty admitting to Regulus that he had tried seeing him a couple of times when they would have shows where Regulus lived. Regulus laughed at him, shaking his head.

“New York is a bit big for you to just come and find me,” Regulus said.

“I thought you’d at least come to a show.”

"I'm sorry I didn't make more of an effort to."

They spent time talking about Regulus and what he’d been up to—Barty learned that he’d been working at an art museum, just like how Regulus always talked about doing when they were growing up. He talked about how Sirius needed him to come home after a health scare—something that he was pretty vague about. Barty didn’t want to push, he figured Regulus would tell him whenever he was ready to discuss it more. Regulus had a couple of drinks already while Barty was still sipping on his first tonic water.

“What are you drinking?” Regulus finally asked him, pointing towards his drink. “It must not be good if you’re still sipping on it.”

“Tonic water,” Barty replied, slightly pushing the glass away.

“Just plain tonic water?”

“I’m not—uh, I’m not trying to drink,” Barty said, scratching the back of his neck. Regulus didn’t ask any questions, instead, he gave Barty a small nod as if he knew exactly why. Barty looked at his watch and saw that it was getting late, and he looked over at Regulus who had a small smile on his face, and slowly tapped his fingers on the counter along to the beat of the music playing in the bar. “Are you—”

“Do you want to go to the park?” Regulus asked, cutting him off.

“Orchard Park?”

“The one and only,” Regulus replied. “I could use a cigarette.”

Barty looked at the glass of tonic water and downed it. He let out a small grunt as he put the glass back on the counter and pulled out his wallet. Pulling out a twenty dollar bill, he slid it across the bar and waited for Regulus to finish his own drink before walking out into the autumn breeze.

They walked past a few buildings before seeing the small, wooden sign that read the park’s name and they walked along the pavement. The sound of dead leaves scraping under their feet made up for the lack of conversation, and Barty stuck his hands in his pocket to get some warmth. Regulus didn’t even seem phased by the frigid weather, it looked like he almost thrived in it. They walked until they saw the first picnic table and Regulus cut through the grass to make his way over to it. He sat on the tabletop and had his eyes on Barty while he followed suit. The two of them sat close together, their arms brushing while Barty pulled out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Can I have one, too?” Regulus asked. Barty nodded his head, putting a cigarette between his lips and handing the other boy one as well. They take their time lighting up, the wind making it a little harder to light the cigarettes. It was fumbling hands trying to block the wind and laughter and smoke filling their lungs.

Barty can’t help but flash back to when they were teenagers, sneaking out of their houses to meet up at Orchard Park. They’d sit at this exact table and chain smoke while they’d watch the sunset and gaze at the stars. Some weekends, Regulus would sneak a bottle of vodka and they’d share it, passing the bottle back and forth until they were too drunk to move. They’d lay on top of the table, fingers intertwined as they talked about life and where they saw themselves in ten years.

Orchard Park played a huge part in their damaged teenage years. This was the place where they shared their first kiss, where they confessed their feelings, and where they both told each other their deepest, darkest secrets that only they and Orchard Park knew about. This was the same place where they told each other “I love you” and the same place where they told each other they had to end. It wasn’t long after that Regulus left—and Barty always blamed himself for it. Regulus was his first love and the first person to remind him that he was worth something.

“So,” Barty said.

“So,” Regulus repeats. “A band, huh? You're basically a rockstar.”

“You shocked?”

“No,” Regulus said, exhaling, trying to blow the smoke away from Barty. “Not at all.”

“I didn’t think we’d get as big as we did, but here we are,” Barty said, shrugging.

“I’d like to hear the band live soon,” Regulus said, flicking ash off his smoke. “Is it still hard to sing about Evan?”

And Barty paused, his eyes locked on the burning embers of his cigarette and he clicked his tongue. He hadn’t had someone ask him that in a long time. Evan, his ex-boyfriend from years ago, was a sore subject, one that the only way Barty could talk about the break up was writing songs about it. They’d been together for years with a promise of a marriage that never happened, and before Barty could do anything, Evan was long gone.

“Sometimes.”

Evan leaving with no intentions of ever coming back was just another reason why Barty kept himself closed off. He had been so torn up about Evan that he picked up drinking—something that has been an on and off again battle and for right now, Barty is doing well. He hadn’t had a drink in months—the thought of Evan still lingers but it’s not painful enough to where he feels the need to drink the image of him away. The only thing is that it created Barty into a hollow of a human being—here, but not really here. The wanting of intimacy hadn’t crossed his mind since Evan left, and it was mostly due to thoughts that consumed him:

If I can’t make Evan love me, I can’t make anyone love me.

If I can’t make Evan want me, I can’t make anyone want me.

No one will want me, all I do is find ways to fuck things up and that’s all I really am—a fuck up.

I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve Evan. I don’t deserve anything.

And so when he felt Regulus rest his hand on his knee, Barty tried to keep his composure. The anxiety smacked him in the face and it was rushing through his veins and he couldn’t fucking breathe but instead of saying something, he took another drag.

“Remember when we had our first kiss here?” Regulus asked, his voice soft and quiet. It took him away from listening to the loud crickets, the only sound that had been anchoring him from not completely losing it in front of Regulus.

“I don’t think I could ever forget,” Barty replied, looking at Regulus.

He knew—he could see the look on Regulus’ face and he’s not fucking stupid. He knew exactly what Regulus was thinking—the hand on his knee gave it away and the look on his face confirmed it. Regulus wanted something that Barty couldn’t give him—he didn’t think that he could ever give Regulus what he wanted. The hollowness was still embedded into him and the reminders of loneliness were etched into his bones and he didn’t think that anyone would be able to erase those feelings—not the person who Barty gave his heart to before he took off with it, shattering it along the way and not even the person who showed Barty how to love.

The person who taught him what it meant to be something, the person who was sitting next to him, the one who was leaning in and eyes fluttering closed and Barty—stupid, worthless, disappointing Barty—turned his face away.

He wasn’t sure when Regulus left. It must have been a couple of minutes after Barty rejected him. He was too caught up in the guilt eating away at him to feel the table shift under his body when Regulus got up and walked away. No words were said, but Regulus didn’t have to say anything to him because Barty got the message loud and clear.

Barty fucked up.

But for the past ten years, that’s all he ever knew how to be.

A fuck up.

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

Article from Mail about Andrew Wincott in Colombia (scroll down to read the article)

Coming soon to The Archers...Adam Macy's cocoa farm in Colombia!

written by Andrew Wincott for Mail on Sunday Travel (31 March 2014)

Radio star Andrew Wincott is bewitched and bedazzled by a historic and colorful corner of South America

Oh dear! Really? Are you quite sure?' Such were the reactions of various acquaintances to my announcement that I was planning a trip to Colombia.

The fact that I have friends in Bogota didn't assuage their anxieties. And now even I started to imagine scenarios in which, having been kidnapped by some paramilitary renegades, I could possibly negotiate some sort of communication line down which I could record scenes for The Archers from my cell in Bogota. Perhaps Adam could have been on a trip researching cocoa farming, I reflected, and found himself deludedly diverted towards coca instead.

Such is the curious blurring between fiction and reality in The Archers that stranger things have happened.

Bogota is a dynamic city with a chaotic character all its own. At 8,500ft above sea level you would think the head-rush would be mandatory. The rush is all in the traffic: buses veer, bikes swerve, taxis vie for fares across choked lanes.

But in the tranquil historic neighbourhood of La Candelaria you escape to the city's Spanish colonial past. Amid the teeming hordes of students, travellers and local Bogotanos, the gold exhibits of the Museo D'Oro, such as the pre-Colombian gold raft sculpture from the Muisca era, are dazzling.

Alternatively one can enjoy the whimsical wit of Colombia's most famous artist, Botero. His porcine figures are found in a museum named after him and built around a charming 18th Century courtyard. Also housed here is part of Botero's personal art collection, including works by Monet, Renoir, Chagall, Miro, and Dali.

Taking in the view: Andrew at the Iglesia de Monserrate overlooking Bogota.

In the nearby Plaza de Bolivar I saw a llama sauntering by - they are used to give rides to giggling tourists. On one corner stands the Museo de la Independencia, housing artefacts and exhibits that fascinatingly illustrate the story of the 1810 Revolution: how the fight for independence began and how, some might contend, it is still being fought today.

Looking up from the plaza - high in the mountains to the east - you see the Iglesia de Monserrate, which is accessible within minutes by cable car. Here you find a sanctuary of tranquillity and spirituality, as though one has risen above the city while its secular urban unreality sprawls magnificently but chaotically across the plateau below.

If the tumult of Bogota becomes too much, a mere hour away lies Zipaquira and its cathedral, one of the most startling buildings in the world. With ingenuity, vision and audacity, a cavernous expanse 600ft below ground has been carved from a salt mine to form a space for worship.

Such is the combination of iconography, natural forms, colours, and carvings that you feel you're in a sodium-chloride art installation.

It's extraordinary to imagine that on Sundays and holy days 3,000 people come here to worship.

At Guatavita, the legend of El Dorado resonates from the pre-Colombian past. Cradled by crater walls is the lake on to which the Muisca tribe rowed their new cacique (king) on a raft before ritually immersing him, naked and covered in gold dust. In further homage, thousands of gold offerings were thrown into the lake by members of the tribe surrounding the shores.

Across the mountains, through the valleys, past polytunnels (Adam would have been pleased to note) the poncho - or ruana - wearing farmers tend the fields, ride horseback or stroll as though time has stopped. Being on the road is an experience in itself. Away from Bogota, down from the plateau and the temperate high ground, the temperature rises.

Roadside grills offer chorizos, chicken and cold beers to slake the thirst. Dogs slumber, sheltering in doorways to escape the heat while cats watch from the shadows.

If it's history you crave, about 90 miles from Bogota, in the Andes near Tunja, there is a tiny bridge over the Teatinos River, marking the site where the Battle of Boyaca was fought.

Here in August 1819 a decisive victory was won against the Spanish in the war for independence - with the help of the British - an event marked by imposing monuments to the generals Bolívar and Santander.

Soon you reach the white-washed walls, red-tiled roofs and cobblestone streets of Villa de Leyva, a preserved colonial town which, since 1954, has been a national monument.

The 17th Century architecture, featuring cool arcaded courtyards, fountains, and flower-festooned columns, is unspoilt. Dancing in the square and drinking aguardiente in the bars around here seem like timeless nocturnal pursuits.

Further afield, an hour's flight from Bogota on the shores of the Caribbean, lies the Unesco World Heritage site of Cartagena, a beautifully restored jewel of a walled Spanish city with perhaps the most impressive fortifications in Latin America, the Castillo de San Felipe de Barajas.

The stature of the walls and the tunnels beneath help the visitor understand why it was virtually impossible to defeat the Spanish here, and why they stayed until the 19th Century.

At night the sun-drenched Plaza de la Santisima Trinidad is transformed into a natural theatre. All life is here. Children race, dogs strut like horses, folk reflect and ruminate.

Locals and travellers mix over a beer bought from the shop across the square and a hot dog from a stand.

If you fancy a cocktail, perhaps a cuba libre, you can try to wake the old girl slumbering behind her stall to mix one.

Colombia is a country that defies expectations. It will bewitch and bedazzle you. The countryside is timeless and you'll find pure pleasure in the tranquillity and variety of the landscape and the charm of its people. If you're looking to escape from the greyness of the commonplace, the warmth, colour and natural beauty of Colombia elevate it to the dimension of another world. I shall certainly be going back.

Maybe that cocoa farm of Adam's wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SET FIVE - ROUND ONE - MATCH SIX

"Ancient Greek doll" (late 4th or 3rd cent. BCE) / "Arena #7 (Bears)" (1990 - Mike Kelley)

ANCIENT GREEK DOLL: I don't know if this is valid (your discretion?) since it's less specific to a single piece of art, but the existence of meticulously crafted dolls found throughout history and all over the world makes me tear up. So much time and care was put into crafting children's toys and other things which in modern, affluent societies have become inconsequential hunks of plastic (@unbelievable-screaming-moth)

ARENA #7 (BEARS): I can understand why many people read Kelley's works with stuffed toys as being about childhood trauma and abuse (he has said this was not his intention, although he embraces this interpretation), but this particular installation feels much more wholesome and hopeful to me. There's just something about this assortment of discarded toys being brought together that makes me feel like my heart it's being squeezed by a vice. It hurts, but in a good way. They were alone and unwanted, but now they have each other. There's also something almost universal about setting up your toys like this when you are a toddler. It seems to be one of the first things we observe about being alive and want to replicate through play: just gathering everyone together; you don't even have to talk or even be doing anything in particular, just existing, knowing that you are not alone, is enough. This is what we should be ritualising. This is what we should be building monuments to. (@louisianna)

("Ancient Greek Doll" is a doll made of carved bone. This doll has movable limbs and is 3 in. (7.6 cm) tall. It is held by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.

"Arena #7 (Bears)" is a piece by American artist Mike Kelley. It consists of found stuffed animals, a blanket, and wood. It was exhibited at the Skarstedt Gallery in New York City from May 6 to June 25, 2010.)

[cartermagazine]

Today We Celebrate History Made In Brooklyn

The County Of Kings: the first every celebration of three generations of artist, from Brooklyn, was on display this past weekend (October 7 and 8, 2023) on Eastern Parkway.

Renowned documentarian photographer Jamel Shabazz @jamelshabazz exhibit Faces and Places 1980 - 2023, opened this summer at the Brooklyn Museum on June 2 thru October 8, 2023. Photographs capturing four decades of the vibrant people and places of Brooklyn and other locales, were displayed alongside the Brooklyn Museum’s walls and steps, celebrating the borough, and the work of Jamel Shabazz.

What followed next was the Jay-Z @jayz exhibit The Book of Hov: A celebration of the life and work of Shawn “Jay-Z” Carter. The exhibit opened July 14 thru December 4, 2023, at the Brooklyn Public Library. Featuring never-before-seen images, and art collections from Jay-Z. The first ever done at a open public library.

Closing out the year, and into the new, is Spike Lee’s @officialspikelee exhibit Creative Source at the Brooklyn Museum. The exhibit opened October 7 thru February 4, 2024. You get a rare glimpse into the world of Spike Lee, through an immersive installation of his personal collection. Visitors will discover the source of inspiration that have fueled his creativity.

All three highly successful and respected artists, has consistently inspired and influenced generations of artists - through the lens and microphones they possess, to create and develop their own unique work of artistic expression.

Not to mention, empowering artist into the world of entrepreneurship. Owning your work, and knowing your worth, is constantly expressed through the success they achieve.

CARTER™️ Magazine