Probably about 10 or 12 years ago, I was really, really into the New York Dolls. I had read Too Much Too Soon and …In Cold Blood and I had this picture of Johnny Thunders and his TV Yellow Gibson taped up over my bed. At the time I was going through this weird superstitious phase, so whenever I would leave the house, I would take the picture down and slip it into my diary. I’m not really sure where I’m going with this except for the fact that it’s strange to realize I once loved them so intensely (like, to the extent that when I first went to New York the highlight of my trip was being photographed in front of the Gem Spa) and now they’re hardly a blip on my radar (unless my parents call up and say that they’re going to see the Doll and I get all ideologically freaked out, like, “How can you even say that when Johnny Thunders, Arthur Kane, AND Jerry Nolan are all dead?!”)
New York Dolls in London
I’m finishing up the week’s laundry today. I bet Henry Rollins hates matching up the socks as much as I do.
(via fuckyeahhenryrollins)
1. “In fact, “punk rock” means exemplary manners toward your fellow human beings.” - Joe Strummer
2. When my mother was a teenager, she jumped out of her window and drove to Akron with friends to see the Clash. She came home covered in spit and completely exhilarated.
3. When my aunt went for her university student orientation, she got in a furious fight with my grandparents over whether or not she was allowed to wear her Clash t-shirt. Later, she met Joe Strummer who told her to stay in school and asked her all about her thesis. When the documentary The Future is Unwritten came out, I saw it with her and she cried at cried at the opening footage of a young Joe Strummer playing in his parents’ yard, “Look at his little ears!” she said over and over again between sobs.
(via poisonoushoneysuckles)
In his Marriage series, John Stezaker focuses on the concept of portraiture, both as art historical genre and public identity. Using publicity shots of classic film stars, Stezaker splices and overlaps famous faces, creating hybrid ‘icons’ that dissociate the familiar to create sensations of the uncanny. Coupling male and female identity into unified characters, Stezaker points to a disjointed harmony, where the irreconciliation of difference both complements and detracts from the whole. In his correlated images, personalities (and our idealisations of them) become ancillary and empty, rendered abject through their magnified flaws and struggle for visual dominance.
Oh Cindy Sherman, you rule. But (BUT), everyone who loves Cindy should (in addition to gawking at her photographs) see Guest of Cindy Sherman.
Cindy Sherman
