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Detail: Apollo and the Arts, 1897, by Paul Jean Gervais.
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Flower Shop, Paris, 1950s by Victor Meeussen
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September // 2017
Northern Iceland
T-Max 400
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“You did not understand what I am. I am pleasure, I am love, I am essence, I am an alcoholic, I am an idiot, I am tenacious. I am; I simply am” Frida Kahlo (1907-1954)
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“At the end of my suffering there was a door. Hear me out: that which you call death I remember. Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting. Then nothing. The weak sun flickered over the dry surface. It is terrible to survive as consciousness buried in the dark earth. Then it was over: that which you fear, being a soul and unable to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth bending a little. And what I took to be birds darting in low shrubs. You who do not remember passage from the other world I tell you I could speak again: whatever returns from oblivion returns to find a voice: from the center of my life a great fountain, deep blue shadows on azure seawater.”
— Louise Glück, “The Wild Iris”
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– Francesca Woodman, then at one point i did not need to translate the notes; they went directly to my hands (Providence, Rhode Island, 1976)
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– Carolee Schneemann, Eye Body: 36 Transformative Actions for Camera (1963/2005)
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