The Lark’s Wing, Encircled with Golden Blue, Rejoins the Heart of the Poppy Sleeping on a Diamond-Studded Meadow by Joan Miró, 1967. Oil on canvas. 195 x 130 cm. Private collection.
“A change in language can transform our apprehension of the cosmos.”
—Benjamin Lee Whorf (via inthenoosphere)
(via wildcat2030)
sometimes while walking down the street i think the phrase “hurl myself forward,” as though it would make me go faster.
Agnes Martin, Stars
“My paintings have neither object nor space nor line nor anything - no forms. They are light, lightness, about merging, about formlessness, breaking down form. You wouldn’t think of form by the ocean. You can go in if you don’t encounter anything. A world without objects, without interruption, making a work without interruption or obstacle. It is to accept the necessity of the simple direct going into a field of vision as you would cross an empty beach to look at the ocean.” (via)
Chad Gerth, Chicago and Kedvale, from Empty Lots, 2008
“Empty lots such as these are within every city’s territory, yet they exist outside of their identity. They are ungoverned Lesothos or Vatican Cities. Alternately called urban prairies (geographic), unproductive land (economic), and terrain vague (philosophical), they serve purposes beyond the city’s control: they are a social space; they are a dumping ground for waste and litter; they are a place for crime and play; they are both a visual resting place amidst Chicago’s dense architectural fabric and an eyesore; and they are also nothing at all.”
Tamas Dezso, Ruin (Budapest, 2011), from Here, Anywhere
“The map of Hungary is speckled with capsules of time. During the political transformation twenty years ago, as the country experienced change it simply forgot about certain places – streets, blocks of flats, vacant sites and whole districts became self-defined enclosures, where today a certain out-dated, awkward, longed-to-be-forgotten Eastern Europeanness still lingers. There are places which seem to be at one with other parts of the city in a single space, but their co-existence in time is only apparent; places which decompose in accordance with their own specific chronology, determined by their past, such that what remains would then either be silently reconquered by nature or enveloped by the lifestyles of tomorrow’s generations. Of the inhabitants, who have never fully integrated with majority society, soon only traces will remain, until they, too, disappear in the course of time.”
Toshio Shibata, Shimogo Town, Fukushima, 1990
“I take a lot of photographs and show very few. If there is too much reality, too much identifiable sense of time and place, I don’t show these images.” -Toshio Shibata, in an interview on eyecurious
(via londonoutfitted)
“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.”
—ralph waldo emerson, nature ch.1 (1836) (via nosex) (via fuckyeahtranscendentalism)
