Mark Tobey, Cheval Nuit

Our world contains fragments of the divine light.

It would be difficult to come up with a better description of the method this blog is trying to employ than that described in the last two minutes of this fragment of a film about Walter Benjamin:

You can view the complete film, One Way Street: Fragments for Walter Benjamin  on UBUWEB

Yuriko Yamaguchi, Interior Resin

Most of us have effects too diffuse to measure . . .

Jane Austen, Middlemarch:

[T]he growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts, and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.

It is indeed.

We can make our own maps.

 Unlocking the Mystery of Paris' Most Secret Underground Society:

Despite their unassailable secrecy, UX still have something to offer the rest of us, trapped on the far side of the smokescreen. . . .

The organization simply tries things. If one idea doesn't work, they move on to the next. And whereas doubt inhibits, precedents inspire new experiments. . . . We cannot join UX. They will not tell us who they are, or what lies at the heart of the maze. But we can do as they did. We can make our own maps.

Lisa Hoke, The Gravity of Color

Anthony Green, Nasturtiums

Ernesto Sabato, R.I.P.

The Apocalyptic Sublime

Joy Garnett, Poof

In memory of Pontius Pilate

Andy Warhol, Electric Chair

Our task is to heal the shattered world.

A prayer to the spirits of wisdom and the sea

Ana Mendieta. Incantation a Olokun-YemayÃ

Willem de Kooning, Excavation

Time will tell who has fell and who's been left behind . . .

The Late, Late, Late Show

Jeff Spaulding, Raft

Thomas Pynchon, A Journey into the Mind of Watts:

A kid could come along in his bare feet and step on this glass -- not that you'd ever know. These kids are so tough you can pull slivers of it out of them and never get a whimper. It's part of their landscape, both the real and the emotional one: busted glass, busted crockery, nails, tin cans, all kinds of scrap and waste.

Brandon Morse: Marianas

marianas from ebmorse on Vimeo.

I wish I had a river I could skate away on . . .

How do you feel (about art)?

Everything, always, collectively, had been moving toward that purified shape latent in the sky.

Thomas Pynchon, Gravity's Rainbow:

. . . and now, in the Zone, later in the day he became a crossroad, after a heavy rain he doesn’t recall, Slothrop sees a very thick rainbow here, a stout rainbow cock driven down out of pubic clouds into Earth, green wet valleyed Earth, and his chest fills and he stands crying, not a thing in his head, just feeling natural. . . .

Yvette Mattern, Global Rainbow, Berlin, February 2010