Matthew Radford (British, b. 1971), Which Way, 2001. Oil on canvas, 80 x 77 in.
Springtail - Dicyrtoma grinbergsi
This is a tiny globular springtail of the species Dicyrtoma grinbergsi (Collembola - Sminthuridae) described from Siberia, Russia. Springtails of this family have a globular shaped body with numerous setae. They have eyes, and their antennae are longer than their head.
The Sminthurid springtails usually overwinter as eggs. They are herbivores and feed of decaying plant matter, fungal spores, and single celled algae. They are found skating on surface film in the calm water along the edge of rivers and streams. The size of the Sminthurids at maturity is usually less than 3 mm.
Photo credit: ©Adolf Abi-Aad | Locality: Taipei City (Taiwan), 2013
Arthur Boyd (Australian, 1920-1999), The Old Hulk , 1959. Oil on canvas laid on board, 32 x 41 in.
Jon Juarez is an illustrator, animator, writer and designer based in Donodtia/SanSebastian.
I wasn’t raised by wolfs… but it would have been nice. The pens and pencils brought me back to the civilization, it crashed to me. And by vengeance, I give it words, scrawls and disorder. Now, I will write and draw until graphite and ink give me back my wildness.
"As for me I also consider [Italo Calvino] mind-blowing, mesmerizing as perhaps Herodotus’s contemporaries found him. And I’m thankful that critics/writers such as Domini are still putting the great Calvino out there, almost thirty years after his passing."
Nichole L. Reber reviews John Domini’s The Sea-God’s Herb. Read the full review here.
"… the thing is I hate action movies, but in RoboCop action has meaning, depth, consequences, most of all, and this is perhaps why I love RoboCop as a default metaphor for poetry, or the possibility of poetry, is that it implies a certain intention, a certain AIM, and that is what defines poetry or art, or at least is the property that jumps out to me as its distinguishing quality, as if everything else around it is carved away, allowing it to take the form it must."
Sampson Starkweather digresses on RoboCop and “… the fine line between the poetry on the one hand and the life of the poet on the other.” Read the full essay here.
"I love it when a thing can make me question the assumptions that seemed to give the thing its context and meaning, so that I have to see the thing itself, the thing apart from concepts and context. It can be spooky, seeing a thing this way—I am alone in a realm untamed by conventions, and I don’t know what this animal, or whatever it is, is about to do. This situation—being alone outside of the named—is a mask over reality. All of my assumptions are lurking beneath it, ready to leap at me."
Evelyn Hampton reads Carl Dimitri’s paintings. Read the full essay here.
"Early on, I was in such a rush. A rush to write, a rush to read. I gobbled up and pounded out thousands of pages without analysis, control. Which resulted in me having only a hazy memory of what I had read and a large bank of sloppily written stories. I have since learned the difference between hurriedness and urgency. Urgency is important—it defines me in many ways (I am always working, even when not at the keyboard)—but only if that urgency is matched with a need for perfection."
Benjamin Percy (via mttbll)
Spotted garden eels (Taenioconger hassi) live in colonies of up to several thousand individuals. They spend the majority of their lives with only the top half of their body sticking out of a burrow they make in the sand, eating plankton and other tiny animals that float by. If in danger, the entire “garden” retracts into the sand in the blink of an eye.
“A child had thirteen fingers on each hand and his aunts immediately put him to playing the harp, something that made good use of the extras and he completed the course in half the time needed by poor pentadigitates.
“After that the child came to play in such a way that there was no score worthy of him. When he began to give concerts, the amount of music that he concentrated in that time and space with his twenty-six fingers was so extraordinary that the audience couldn’t keep up and was always behind, so that when the young artisto was coming to the end of The Fountain of Arethusa (a transcription) the poor people were still in the Tambourin Chinois (an arrangement). This naturally created horrible confusions, but everyone recognized that the child played like an angel.”
—Julio Cortázar, from “Feuilletons”
Art: Cover of Cortázar’s End of the Game.
An Italian mobile library. Wouldn’t it be cool to have one of these in your own community?
Jacqueline Hoebers (Netherlands) - Edith In A Field Paintings: Oil on Canvas
Vera Nilsson (Swedish, 1888-1979), Brinnande hus [Burning apartment]. Pastel, 30 x 38 cm.