Monday, February 20, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
|Dree in Oyster Magazine|
In the presence of nature, a wild delight runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows. Nature says, -- he is my creature, and maugre all his impertinent griefs, he shall be glad with me. Not the sun or the summer alone, but every hour and season yields its tribute of delight; for every hour and change corresponds to and authorizes a different state of the mind, from breathless noon to grimmest midnight. Nature is a setting that fits equally well a comic or a mourning piece. In good health, the air is a cordial of incredible virtue. Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear. In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child. In the woods, is perpetual youth. Within these plantations of God, a decorum and sanctity reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees not how he should tire of them in a thousand years. In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life, -- no disgrace, no calamity, (leaving me my eyes,) which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground, -- my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space, -- all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God. The name of the nearest friend sounds then foreign and accidental: to be brothers, to be acquaintances, -- master or servant, is then a trifle and a disturbance. I am the lover of uncontained and immortal beauty. In the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in streets or villages. In the tranquil landscape, and especially in the distant line of the horizon, man beholds somewhat as beautiful as his own nature.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Peter Stitson is the shit.
And I wish I could articulate how great he is in my own words, but his website executes the job just too well.
|"Peter Stitson was the Art Director of Dazed & Confused magazine for five years, between 2002-2007 supervising and influencing the magazine’s creative direction. He has worked with a variety of clients including The Outnet/Net-A-Porter, Levis, Edwin Jeans, Nike, Penguin Books, Edwin Jeans, Canon, Rankin, Oxfam and Iceberg. In 2007 he took part in a group exhibition, ‘Dazed vs Andy Warhol’ at the Baltic Gallery, Newcastle. In 2010 he art directed photographer Mari Sarai’s first book, ‘Naked’, published by Seigensha, Japan and gave a talk at Speak For Gallery, Daikanyama, Tokyo, for the exhibition of the book. Currently he is creative director and a partner for the online shop and store 3939shop.comwhere he also curates a gallery."|
|uhm, sadly, ive failed to jot down this artist's name in one of my picture-saving sprees.|
|artist memory fails meeee T_______T so ashamed.|