Neil Gaiman: Why our future depends on libraries, reading and daydreaming It’s important for people to tell you what side they are on and why, and whether they might be biased. A declaration of members’ interests, of a sort. So, I am going to be talking to you about reading. I’m going to tell you that libraries are important. I’m going to suggest that reading fiction, that reading for pleasure, is one of the most important things one can do. And I am biased, obviously and enormously: I’m an author, often an author of fiction. So I’m biased as a writer. And I’m here giving this talk tonight, under the auspices of the Reading Agency: a charity whose mission is to give everyone an equal chance in life by helping people become confident and enthusiastic readers. And it’s that change, and that act of reading that I’m here to talk about tonight. I was once in New York, and I listened to a talk about the building of private prisons – a huge growth industry in America. It’s not one to one: you can’t say that a literate society has no criminality. It’s tosh.
DT Фото и рисунки, арт и креативная реклама Ubu Roi The title is sometimes translated as King Turd; however, the word "Ubu" is actually merely a nonsense word that probably evolved from the French pronunciation of the name “Herbert”, which was the name of one of Jarry’s teachers who was the satirical target and inspirer of the first versions of the play. Jarry made some suggestions regarding how his play should be performed. He wanted King Ubu to wear a cardboard horse's head in certain scenes, "as in the old English theatre", for he intended to “write a guignol". Ubu Roi was followed by Ubu Cocu (Ubu Cuckolded) and Ubu Enchaîné (Ubu in Chains), neither of which was performed during Jarry's 34-year life. One of his later works, a novel/essay on "pataphysics", is offered as an explanation behind the ideas that underpin ‘’Ubu Roi’’. Synopsis The story may at first glance seem merely frivolous—the obscene nonsense of schoolboys. Development Ubu Jarry's woodcut of Ubu Première Adaptations Cast Notes
Tattoo Artist Brings Dots And Lines To New Heights In Stunning Geometric Ink Designs Imagine this scene: Sharp waves stretch back for as far as you can see, eating up the horizon in a vast display of stunning movement. Like the peaks and troughs of a chaotic line graph, the seas capture jumping fish as they weave in and out of the thrashes. Careful shading separates the animal bodies as they surface, drenched in the bleeding red pigment of a sunset-flooded landscape. The description might sound like a recounting of an ancient Japanese print or a sprawling painted canvas, but the words are actually attached to artwork of a different sort. Machlev's inked masterpieces would seem at home amidst the fractal imaginings of digital artists or the mind-bending creations of the op art world. Machlev's studio goes by the name "Dots to Lines," and though it's based in Berlin, Germany, his tattoos have been shown across the web, thanks in part to his stunning Instagram account.
Illustration Ink on paper by Alex Konahin Alex Konahin is an illustrator from Riga, Latvia. His drawings are made with dip pen using india ink or other materials. You can find some of his beautiful works here. » read more May Ann Licudine’s art May Ann Licudine (aka Mall) is an illustrator from the Philippines. Skateboarding is a Crime ‘Skateboarding is a Crime‘ is a set of 12 exhibition illustrations created by Gerhard Human in collaboration with Woodies Ramps, a skateboard ramp building company in Cape Town. » read more “Tales of Auto Elasticity” by Chris LaBrooy English artist Chris LaBrooy has created this new series of images based on his previously project “Auto Aerobics“. “Metamorfish”, a stunning series of drawings by Elisa Ancori Elisa Ancori is a very talented artist and illustrator from Barcelona. The art of Shane Shane is a young and very talented graphic designer and illustrator based in Paris, France. » read more New stunning artworks by Camilla d’Errico Anatomical illustrations by Nunzio Paci
The QI Philosophy They say the primal drives are food, sex and shelter. QI says there is a fourth: Curiosity. We are hard-wired for curiosity: it is innate - a fierce need - and, unlike the other three drives, it is what makes us uniquely human. But pure curiosity, completely standard in children under seven and found in great artists, scientists and explorers, is, for some reason, quickly suppressed, sublimated or shrunken in most people. We make do with crossword puzzles, gossip, football results, pub quizzes and Jerry Springer. Our first three drives get plenty of fuel. The world brims and bulges with interesting information, but these days it rarely reaches us. People are living in a daze: swamped with information, starved of stimulation. The human brain is the most complex object in the known Universe, with as many neurons as there are trees in the Amazon rain-forest. People say the brain is like a computer, but it is not. What is life? Whatever is interesting we are interested in.
Escape Into Life 97, Walker Percy This interview was conducted by mail, from May to October, 1986, at an enormous geographical distance; but the interviewer does cherish the memory of a personal meeting. It was on May 4, 1973, a warm Louisiana evening, at Percy’s home in Covington, a small town at the northern end of the causeway running above Lake Pontchartrain (New Orleans is at the southern end). The house is in a wooded area by the bayou, along the Bogue Falaya River. Percy was a tall, slender, handsome man, with a distinguished and thoughtful mien. His manner that day was unassuming, gracious, and gentle. Even later, judging from our correspondence, he was still the same warm, helpful, generous, and patient person, as the very existence of this interview, carried out under such difficult circumstances, will testify. How did you spend your seventieth birthday? An ordinary day. You and your wife recently celebrated your fortieth anniversary. Mine has been a happy marriage—thanks mainly to my wife. Philosophical? Why?
Sweet Station Drunk Mailman Drunk Mailman byJonathan Rogerson May 22, 2015 The drunkest man I ever saw was a mailman. I had gone down to the Echeconnee Creek with my fishing pole and was startled at the sight of him slumped against a bridge piling. There was always trash under the bridge at the Echeconnee—beer cans and fast food wrappers thrown from passing cars, old tires and broken palettes, the remains of campfires. I mistook the mailman at first for a pile of something left on the bank by the latest flood. He fixed me with heavy-lidded yellow-brown eyes. The mailman’s head swayed on unsteady shoulders, and he blinked slowly as he mumbled and slurred something in my direction. “Pardon?” The mailman squinted at me and raised himself to something closer to a sitting position, trying to focus his free-floating hatred.
The best visual artists in illustrations, photography, paintings, graphic design, etc. Taisuke Mohri was born in Sapporo, Japan on 1938. He obtained his Bachelor’s Degree in Industrial Arts from the prestigious Tokyo Art University in 2009. His work has been featured in several group exhibitions in Tokyo including “FRANTIC UNDERLINES” by Frantic Gallery in 2010, “Extra Real” Exhibition by ULTRA002 in Spiral Garden, and “Graduated Works Exhibition of Tokyo Art University” by the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Art. Click here for more » William Fisk is a Canadian painter who specializes in creating photo-realistic paintings. Click here for more » Baku Maeda is the imaginative artist behind Ribbonesia. Click here for more » “This is the only thing I like to do and why I wake up in the morning.” said Henry Leutwyler, photographer of the stars. Click here for more » Evelyn Bracklow is the artist responsible for the army of ants crawling all over this delicate porcelain tea set. Click here for more » Click here for more » Click here for more » Click here for more » Click here for more »
Poesy, a Nosegay of Prose Poesy, a Nosegay of Prose byLanier Ivesteron May 25, 2015 It all began in the summer of 2008 when I hit a terrible slump with my writing. I would sit at my computer for hours at a time typing insipid sentences and immediately erasing them. I felt like I had lost my identity as a writer. Worse than that—I felt like I had never been a writer in the first place. It went on and on, for weeks. I had an appointment that day, so I heaved myself up off of the couch and went downstairs in a black cloud of melancholy. I threw down my brush and took the stairs two at a time, flinging open my laptop before I’d even pulled out my desk chair. The whole thing was so fun it just couldn’t be real writing. I wrote this little book purely for joy, out of the most idealistic sensibilities of my heart. I knew that a book as gently outdated as mine would require special treatment, and as my imagination had already quite run away with me, I gave in and gave it its head. Was I crazy? “We can do this,” he said.