Friday, December 9, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
monument - movement
Monument - Movement
One of my photos has been included in a group show that opens this month, running from November 29 - December 23.
There will be a reception on December 7th from 7 - 9pm.
MUSE CPMI - Center of Photography and the Moving Image
580 Eighth Avenue 7th Floor NY, NY 10018
Friday, November 25, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
communal table
Friday, November 18, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
- - -
FNP
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
- - -
At twelve o'clock a meeting round the table
For a seance in the dark
With voices out of nowhere
Put on especially by the children for a lark
JL
Thursday, July 7, 2011
dossier journal
you were the bleached sun for TV afternoon...
Annabelle Tsaboukas
Styling by Julie Brooke Williams
Hair by Song Isabel Hee
Makeup by Erin Green
Saturday, May 28, 2011
- - -
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
E. A. Poe
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
E. A. Poe
Friday, May 13, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
sign of the sixth beat
Francis Parrilli (whose texts I often post) has released Hands Like Hurrah, a new book in which he's created a dark and beautifully melodic text-scape. His own description of the work...
“I am a child of sun, symphonious!” Do they hear the cry of your Mother Nature scream, the long sob in the outer space? A phantom plenipotentiary, a trinity lost in the landscape cascaded with the absurdity of language/religion/science – the massacre and percussion, the martyr and animals standing upright talking, séance, dancing with raised hands like hurrah, mad dancing to the sign of the sixth beat. Spooky news trajectory. Miracle play on words, the fool, pleading with, multiple personalities: a story.
If you're interested in a copy ($6), email Francis at francis.parrilli@gmail.com
If you're interested in a copy ($6), email Francis at francis.parrilli@gmail.com
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