Okay so life is full of lists, and most of them are boring and full of shit you don’t want to do, but this one is going to be great because it’s about Louis CK. So get ready.
9. His jokes are like little, beautiful, thoughtful presents, but instead of being wrapped in tissue paper they have been placed in a sweaty sock. So at first you hate the person for giving it to you, but when you look inside you are touched.
8. He does every step of the creating process: writing, producing, directing, editing.
And the slug I found on my phone last night. I left it near a house plant that has not seen the outdoors in months. He was just looking for someone to talk to him.
Enjoying Dear Photograph. (but not enjoying the messages people leave for their photographs: first of all which photograph are they talking to the original photo or the recent photo, second neither one is listening, third the attempt at poignancy seems a little melodramatic, I get it your parents divorced and you are old now.)
I was looking for a picture of a lobster to insert here, but when I was looking through the possibilities they all involved plates, butter, and those awful cracky things. I don’t want to be hosting photos of lobsters at their darkest hour.
I found the blog Annilygreen, and have been spending my days reading page after page (I feel creepy looking at the entirety of people’s blog/life in a couple hours and knowing everything they are doing without them knowing I know.)
Here are some posts that especially caught my interest:
Here is a new series I am entitling “my nails looking good with things”. Although it will be my nails looking good with things, it will be generally be my nails matching things, while looking good… let’s begin.
When I put my contacts in this morning I noticed this magic.
Old suitcase, just happens to also be magic.
John Steinbeck has really good taste in font colors.
My breath is fresh and so is my nail polish color.
A report done by the Guardian in which they ask warzone photographers about a photo that almost killed them. Here is one of the photos, and the story that accompanies.
Bosnia, 1992
“These are the Serbian warlord Arkan’s men. They’ve just executed these Muslim civilians – a butcher, his wife and sister-in-law; the start of what became known as ethnic cleansing.
I had taken a photograph of Arkan with a baby tiger, which he’d liked, and he’d agreed for me to travel with his troops to photograph his “mission”. The soliders were yelling at me not to shoot, but I’d promised myself I’d come out of this with an image to prove what was happening.
I was shaking when I took this shot. None of them was looking at me so I lifted my camera, just trying to get them in frame. When I put it down, they looked over. They didn’t realise I’d taken photos.
Later, Arkan caught me photographing another execution and said he’d process my film and keep the ones he didn’t like. I’d hidden the film from earlier in the day in my pocket and figured that if I fought hard enough for the film in my camera, he wouldn’t search me.
When the pictures were published not long after, Arkan said in an interview, “I look forward to the day I can drink his blood.” He put me on a death list, and I spent the next eight years trying to avoid him. Eventually, these images were used to indict him at The Hague.”
ohijustdontknow 