Haunted Air | A collection of anonymous Halloween Photographs from America, c.1875 - 1955 | Ossian Brown / David Lynch

"All the clocks had stopped. A void out of time.
And here they are - looking out and holding themselves still - 
holding still at that point where two worlds join -
the familiar - and the other."

David Lynch

“I was somewhere else. I thought I was someplace but now I didn’t know that place. 
I seemed to be inside foreign worlds where there was some kind of troubling camaraderie
—as if a haunting joke was known to everyone but me and yet faintly I knew it too. 
I couldn’t pull away—it was all like a magnet and there was beauty in it. Human creatures 
with the feeling of being turned strange and open to falling and glee—they seemed to have 
a glee for somehow stitching a laugh to darkness.”

David Lynch

Ossian Brown
A collection of anonymous Hallowe'en Photographs
America, c.1875 - 1955

With an introduction by David Lynch, afterword by Geoff Cox

     "These are pictures of the dead: family portraits, mementoes of the treasured, the held-dear-in-heart, now unrecognizable, other. Torn from album pages, sold piecemeal for pennies and scattered, abandoned to melancholy chance and the hands of strangers. Frayed by forgetting, they are homeless ghosts: summoned and stranded, double-fleshed by corrosion. Acted upon by chemical rot and paper’s fray, by sun and mould and jam-stained fingers, their surfaces penetrated, moth-eaten, worm-bored, worn away. Time-spots, black-fleck swarms, mimic the hypnagogic eye’s gaze. Silvered grains work loose on the image like sands in an hourglass, sliding and re-gathering. Age becomes them as it undoes them. Vanitas, vanitas…”

Geoff Cox

Alphabetarion # Night / James Turrell

Hiram Mattison, Illustration from A high-school astronomy, 1859

"I’ve always felt that night doesn’t fall. Night rises. "

James Turrell, Interview magazine

The Opposite of Talking | Fran Lebowitz on Writing, Life, Art & Wealth


“All the time I'm not writing I feel like a criminal. It's horrible to feel felonious every second of the day. 
It's much more relaxing to actually write.” 

“A book is not supposed to be a mirror. It's supposed to be a door.”

"Words Are Easy, Books Are Not," Half of writing, maybe 3/4 of writing, is editing.”

“There's no equivalent to Mozart in writing.” 

“Think before you speak. Read before you think.”

“Talent is something you're born with. You cannot acquire it by working hard, and you cannot lose it by lying around 

“I never took hallucinogenic drugs because I never wanted my consciousness expanded one unnecessary iota.” 

“Great people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about wine.” 

“The opposite of talking isn't listening. The opposite of talking is waiting.” 


“Romantic love is mental illness. But it's a pleasurable one. It's a drug. It distorts reality, and that's the point of it. 
It would be impossible to fall in love with someone that you really saw. ”

“Knowingness is sexy. The opposite of sexy is naivete.”

“The main symptom of falling in love is that you lose your intellectual prowess.”

“Original thought is like original sin: both happened before you were born to people you could not possibly have 


“Should you be a teenager blessed with uncommon good looks, document this state of affairs by the taking 
of photographs. It is the only way anyone will ever believe you in years to come.”

“What's the point of being young if you're not going to make new things, I wonder?”

“Humility is no substitute for a good personality.”

“If you are truly serious abut preparing your child for the future, don't teach him to subtract teach him to deduct.”

“Any child who cannot do long division by himself does not deserve to smoke.”

“Did it ever occur to anyone that if you put nice libraries in public schools you wouldn't have to put them in prisons?” 


“To me the outdoors is what you must pass through in order to get from your apartment into a taxicab.” 

“Being offended is the natural consequence of leaving one's home.   When it is necessary, however, to go out of the house, 
they must be prepared, as I am, to deal with the unpleasant personal habits of others. That is what "public" means.”

“You can't go around hoping that most people have sterling moral characters. The most you can hope for is that people 
will pretend that they do.”

“Stand firm in your refusal to remain conscious during algebra. In real life, I assure you, there is no such thing as algebra.” 

“Life is something that happens when you can't get to sleep.” 

“I love sleep because it is both pleasant and safe to use. Pleasant because one is in the best possible company and safe 
because sleep is the consummate protection against the unseemliness that is the invariable consequence of being awake. 
What you don't know won't hurt you. Sleep is death without the responsibility.” 

Peter Hujar,Fran Lebowitz at home, Morristown, 1974


“Perhaps the least cheering statement ever made on the subject of art is that life imitates it.”

“Rome is a very loony city in every respect. One needs but spend an hour or two there to realize that Fellini makes 

“Ever since I was a little child, I refused to see movies of books that I loved. Because you already know what Heidi looks like 
and she doesn't look like Shirley Temple.”

“Now the culture is made of old things, it's a collage. Art made out of art is not art. You're supposed to make art out of life.”

“People always say "pop culture." As if we have some high culture to distinguish it from.”


“Albert Einstein didn't care where he lived. Albert Einstein was a genius. Albert Einstein wasn't getting lost in the 
master bedroom, he was lost in thought.”

“I do not believe in God. I believe in cashmere.”  

"I don't believe in anything you have to believe in.”

“You do not have to be a genius to get rich. You have to be ruthless to get rich.”

“No one earns $100 million. You steal $100 million.”

“Americans do not hate the rich; they want to be them. Every American believes that they are the impending rich, 
and that will never change.”

“Generally speaking, the poorer person summers where he winters.”

Fran Lebowitz

Frances Ann "Fran" Lebowitz (b.1950) After being expelled from high school and receiving a GED, Lebowitz worked various odd jobs before Andy Warhol hired her as a columnist for Interview. This was followed by a stint at Mademoiselle.  Her first two books were the essay collections Metropolitan Life (1978) and Social Studies (1981). Lebowitz has been known, in part, for Exterior Signs of Wealth, a long-overdue, unfinished novel, purportedly about rich people who want to be artists, and artists
who want to be rich.

Alphabetarion # Silences | Roberto Bolaño / Rene Magritte

Rene Magritte, The Voice of Silence, 1928

"There are silences made just for us"

Roberto Bolaño, “My One True Love,” Antwerp
tr. Natasha Wimmer

Sweet Nothings / Schoolgirls of Eastern Anatolia | Photos by Vanessa Winship, 2007

Vanessa Winship (b. 1960) is a British photographer who works on long term projects of portrait, landscape, reportage 
and documentary photography. She has worked on numerous personal projects, predominantly in Eastern Europe.

Book//mark - Things: A Story of the Sixties | Georges Perec, 1965

Les Choses : Une histoire des années soixante                                                                                                  Georges Perec, 1965

“They lived in a quaint, low-ceilinged and tiny flat overlooking a garden. And as they remember their garret - a gloomy, narrow, overheated corridor with clinging smells - they lived in their flat, to begin with, in a kind of intoxication, refreshed each morning by the sound of chirping birds. They would open the windows and, for many minutes, they would gaze, in utter happiness, at their courtyard. The building was old, not yet at all at the point of collapse, but dowdy and cracked. The corridors and staircases were narrow and dirty, dripping with damp, impregnated with greasy fumes. But in between two large trees and five tiny garden plots of irregular shapes, most of them overgrown but endowed with precious lawn, flowers in pots, bushes, even primitive statues, there wound a path made of rough, large paving stones which gave the whole thing a countryside air. It was one of those rare spots in Paris where it could happen, on some autumn days, after rain, that a smell would rise from the ground, an almost powerful smell of the forest, of earth, of rotting leaves.

They never tired of these charms and they always remained just as naturally responsive to them as they had been on the first days, but it became obvious, after a few care-free, jaunty months, that these attractions could in no way suffice to make them oblivious of the inadequacies of their dwelling. Accustomed to living in squalid rooms where all they did was to sleep, and to spending their days in cafes, they took a long time to notice that the most banal functions of everyday life - sleeping, eating, reading, chatting, washing - each required a specific space, the manifest absence of which then began to make itself felt. They found consolation where they could, congratulated themselves on the excellent neighborhood they were in, on the proximity of Rue Mouffetard and the Jardin des Plantes, on the quietness of the street, on the stylishness of their low ceilings, and on the magnificence of the trees and the courtyard through all the seasons; but indoors it all began to collapse under the heaps of objects, of furniture, books, plates, papers, empty bottles. A war of attrition began from which they would never emerge victorious.” 

“In advertising circles – which were generally located by quasi-mystical tradition to the left of centre, but were rather better defined by technocracy, the cult of efficiency, modernity, complexity, by the taste for speculating on future trends and by the more demagogic strain in sociology, as well as by the still very widespread opinion that nine-tenths of the population were fools just able to sing the praises of anything or anybody in unison – in advertising circles, then, it was fashionable to despise all merely topical political issues and to grasp History in nothing smaller than centuries.” 

“Impatience [...] is a twentieth-century virtue. At twenty, when they saw, or thought they saw, what life could be, the sum of bliss it held, the endless conquests it allowed, they realised they would not have the strength to wait. Like anyone else, they could have made it; but all they wanted was to have it made. That is probably the sense in which they were what are commonly called intellectuals.” 

“People who choose to earn money first, people who put off their real plans until later, until they are rich, are not necessarily wrong. People who want only to live, and who reckon living is absolute freedom, the exclusive pursuit of happiness, the sole satisfaction of their desires and instincts, the immediate enjoyment of the boundless riches of the world [...] such people will always be unhappy. It is true [...] that there are people for whom this kind of dilemma does not arise, or hardly arises, either because they are too poor and have no requirements beyond a slightly better diet, slightly better housing, slightly less work, or because they are too rich, from the start, to understand the import or even the meaning of such a distinction. But nowadays and in our part of the world, more and more people are neither rich nor poor: they dream of wealth, and could become wealthy; and that is where their misfortunes begin.”

“The enemy was unseen. Or rather, the enemy was within them, it had rotted them, infected them, eaten them away. They were the hollow men, the turkey round the stuffing. Tame pets, faithfully reflecting a world which taunted them. They were up to their necks in a cream cake from which they would only ever be able to nibble crumbs.”

“What they liked in things they called luxury was only the money behind them; they loved wealth before they loved life.” 

“But money creates new needs.”

“They lived in a strange and shimmering world, the bedazzling universe of a market culture, in prisons of plenty, in the bewitching traps of comfort and happiness.”

“They were in the centre of a vacuum, they had settled into a no man’s land of parallel streets, yellow sands, inlets and dusty palms, a world they did not understand, that they did not seek to understand, because in their past lives they had never equipped themselves to have to adapt, one day, to change, to mould themselves to a different kind of scenery, or climate, or style of living… Jerome could easily seem to have brought his homeland, or rather his quartier, his ghetto, his stamping-ground, with him on the soles of his English shoes… Sfax simply did not have a Mac Mahon, or a Harry’s Bar, or a Balzar, or a Contrescarpe, or a Salle Pleyel, or Berges de la Seine une nuit de juin. In such a vacuum, precisely because of this vacuum, because of the absence of all things, because of such a fundamental vacuity, such a blank zone, a tabula rasa, they felt as if they were being cleansed.”

Things: A Story of the Sixties, Georges Perec, 1965


The Garden of Claude Monet | Giverny Paintings (1883 -1923)

Dennis Stock, The gardens of Claude Monet, Giverny, 1978

“I must have flowers, always, and always.” 

Claude Monet

Claude Monet, Giverny, 1920

"My garden is my most beautiful masterpiece."

Claude Monet

Claude Monet in the garden of his house at Giverny

Monet settled in Giverny in 1883. He untiringly transformed an abandoned domaine into a floral masterpiece, to be the inspiration for many of his greatest works of art. Monet was not only a painter of his own garden but also an artist whose painting trips took him away for lengthy periods of time. However, he was never really far from his garden . Through constant correspondence, he kept a close eye on his family and his flowers . Frequent visits from his friends and admirers made Giverny the centre of his existence . Until his death in 1926, the painter, the father , the gardener and the man would never really leave Giverny.

Claude Monet, Garden at Giverny, 1895

"And the garden? Are there still flowers? I really hope there will still be chrysanthemums when I come back. 
If there is a risk of frost, make nice bouquets."

Monet to his wife Alice

Claude Monet in front of one of the vast canvases of the waterlilies in his garden at Giverny that he painted in the last years of his life, 1923
Claude Monet, Water Lilies, 1904

"It took me some time to understand my water lilies… I cultivated them with no thought of painting them… 
One does not fully appreciate a landscape in one day… And then, suddenly, I had a revelation of the magic of my pond. 
I took my palette. From this moment, I have had almost no other model."

Claude Monet

Claude Monet 
Claude Monet, The Japanese Bridge (The Bridge in Monet's Garden), 1896

"I want to paint the air around the bridge, the house, the boat. 
The beauty of the air where they are, and it is nothing other than impossible."

"I would like to paint the way a bird sings." 

Claude Monet

Claude Monet, The Boat at Giverny, 1887

"The richness I achieve comes from nature, the source of my inspiration."

"I am following Nature without being able to grasp her, 
I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers." 

Claude Monet
In the Woods at Giverny: Blanche Hoschedé at Her Easel with Suzanne Hoschedé Reading, 1887
Claude Monet, Coucher de soleil à Giverny, 1886
Claude Monet, Giverny, 1880                                                Claude Monet, Giverny, 1905

"My heart is forever in Giverny."

Claude Monet

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