As much as we want to play it cool, we find ourselves occasionally coming across figures whose influence is undeniable. What better person than this as an example, and what better time to be uncool about film-making than now. Many... Continue Reading →
As you get older ‘newness’ becomes a process of consumption, the same as eating. You encounter countless constructs you examine as ‘new’. Determining ‘newness’ at several intersecting points of experience becomes an art form. We begin to obsess over interpreting... Continue Reading →
Every day in the UK, 250 people start to lose their sight. About 285 million people are vision impaired worldwide: 39 million are blind and 246 million 'low vision' - a term noted as the mean definition for most of... Continue Reading →
"There's no such thing as structure." That's what this random guy said to me, unwavering eye contact, before proceeding to finish his vodka, be sick over the payment and drop their keys into the road. Don't worry, they were fine.... Continue Reading →
Yeah sometimes you look up and see colours in the windows of people who used to be like you who used to be human fire in the chimney fire in the holes in the wall...
“Yes abso-bloody-lutely” Says sax woman when I ask her if she could take me to the hospital. She rings a small, golden bell she’s holding and I realise that we’re on a boat going down the river where I... Continue Reading →
She provided a bold dedication to the abstract, as a painter who would later go on to help define the LA art scenes in decades to come. Her stylistics clearly emulate surrealist style, but compose them into...
Afro-surrealism is fluid. It exists to establish neo-narratives, but simultaneously reflect pre-existing power. ‘Solitudes’ embodies this wholly, while moving at such great speeds that it’s true nature is virtually imperceptible throughout the text. Even re-reading his poetry feels like a different experience, a submergence into a memory that changes definition like trying to view shards of a mirror in endless strands of phosphorescent light.
Low sax lounge man drapes in past Saturday morning and into cello twanging evening before sitting down on my sofa and offering me a drink. I say I don’t want one, and that the best ones in the flat have... Continue Reading →
