I never read blogs, really.
I think they waste too much songwriting time.
Jason Molina

Back in the day.

Trained first as a rabbi and then as a painter, Mr. Leiter the photographer spent the last 60 years being cyclically forgotten and rediscovered. In the end he remained very nearly the antithesis of a household name, a state of affairs that, with his lifelong craving for privacy and genial constitutional dyspepsia, he found hugely satisfying.

(Source: The New York Times)

It’s Christmas time,
and the needle’s on the tree.
A skinny Santa is bringing something to me.
His voice is overwhelming,
but his speech is slurred,
and I only understand every other word.
Open your parachute and grab your gun,
falling down like an omen, a setting sun.
Read the part and return at five,
it’s a hell of a role if you can keep it alive.
Elliott Smith 
Andy resting on Northcote street. Wollongong, 2009.

Andy resting on Northcote street. Wollongong, 2009.

The National Gallery of Victoria. Melbourne, 2009.

The National Gallery of Victoria. Melbourne, 2009.

Trygve. Oslo, 2013.

Trygve. Oslo, 2013.

Morten Andersen

(Source: shadowlab.no)

Paz de la Huerta by Alexandra Carr

(Source: alexandracarr.com)

One does not want a poem to serve anything; the liberating god of poetry does not endorse servitude.
A.R. Ammons
(Reblogged from nevver)
He took their picture every day, posing them carefully and stepping back to frame the picture, while they flashed him their brightest smiles, but he never had film in the camera and the Gypsy girls never saw a single shot of themselves, and still they had their picture taken every day and looked forward to the results like Christians to heaven.
Bohumil Hrabal, Too Loud a Solitude

shawnwhisenant:

Double exposure shot with Jarod Taber. San Francisco, 2013

(Reblogged from shawnwhisenant)

San Francisco, 2013.

I read plenty about Miley Cyrus, on my iPhone, late at night. And you wake up and you hate yourself. My “struggle”! The overweening absurdity of Karl Ove’s title is a bad joke that keeps coming back to you as you try to construct a life worthy of an adult.
Zadie Smith

(Source: nybooks.com)