Silent river runs deep

tomorrow never knows

geneticist:

These images are part of a series of remarkable patterns that bacteria form when grown in a petri dish. The colony structures form as adaptive responses to laboratory-imposed stresses that mimic hostile environments faced in nature. (via)

(via howard-roark)

howard-roark: image: Henri Michaux ‘Narration’ (1927) The dynamic graphic quality of oriental calligraphy combined with it’s dissociation from meaning (from a western point of view) has had a powerful influence of Asemic artists; The surrealist Belgian poet and painter Henri Michaux (1899-1984) betrays an orientalist influence in his automatic drawings – abstract calligraphic pieces in black ink; “a new language, spurning the verbal” begun after his travels in China and Japan: ” The destiny that awaited Chinese was utter weightlessness. The characters that evolved were better suited than their archaic predecessors in terms of speed, agility, deftness of gesture. A certain kind of Chinese landscape painting demands speed, can only be executed with the same sudden release as the paw of a springing tiger. (For which one must first be concentrated, self-contained and, at the same time, relaxed). The calligrapher, likewise, must first be plunged in meditation, be charged with energy in order to release: to discharge that very energy. And all at once.” During the 1950s Michaux experimented with writing and drawing under the influence of the psychedelic drug mescaline. These experiments resulted in a series of alchemic drawings and abstract poems and made Michaux a champion of the Beats – Kerouak, Gysin etc – yet Michaux’s use of the drug was more shamanistic; by removing himself from conscious influence and by emptying his mind ( Michaux; “monastery of the mind”) Michaux used the drug as a tool to explore a pre-cultural commonality underlying language and poetry: “Sometimes words would be fused together on the spot. For example, “Martyrissibly” would recur to me time and time again, speaking volumes. I couldn’t get rid of it. Another repeated untiringly, “Krakatoa !” “Krakatoa !” or sometimes a quite ordinary word like “crystal” would return twenty times in succession, giving me a great harangue all by itself, out of another world, and I could never have augmented it in the least or supplemented it with some other word. Alone, like a castaway on an island, it was everything to me, and the restless ocean out of which it had just come and of which it irresistibly reminded me, for I too was shipwrecked and alone end holding out against disaster.” (via Free writing « stalker)

howard-roark:

image: Henri Michaux ‘Narration’ (1927)

The dynamic graphic quality of oriental calligraphy combined with it’s dissociation from meaning (from a western point of view) has had a powerful influence of Asemic artists; The surrealist Belgian poet and painter Henri Michaux (1899-1984) betrays an orientalist influence in his automatic drawings – abstract calligraphic pieces in black ink; “a new language, spurning the verbal” begun after his travels in China and Japan:

” The destiny that awaited Chinese was utter weightlessness.

The characters that evolved were better suited than their archaic predecessors in terms of speed, agility, deftness of gesture. A certain kind of Chinese landscape painting demands speed, can only be executed with the same sudden release as the paw of a springing tiger. (For which one must first be concentrated, self-contained and, at the same time, relaxed).

The calligrapher, likewise, must first be plunged in meditation, be charged with energy in order to release: to discharge that very energy. And all at once.”

During the 1950s Michaux experimented with writing and drawing under the influence of the psychedelic drug mescaline. These experiments resulted in a series of alchemic drawings and abstract poems and made Michaux a champion of the Beats – Kerouak, Gysin etc – yet Michaux’s use of the drug was more shamanistic; by removing himself from conscious influence and by emptying his mind ( Michaux; “monastery of the mind”) Michaux used the drug as a tool to explore a pre-cultural commonality underlying language and poetry:

“Sometimes words would be fused together on the spot. For example, “Martyrissibly” would recur to me time and time again, speaking volumes. I couldn’t get rid of it. Another repeated untiringly, “Krakatoa !” “Krakatoa !” or sometimes a quite ordinary word like “crystal” would return twenty times in succession, giving me a great harangue all by itself, out of another world, and I could never have augmented it in the least or supplemented it with some other word. Alone, like a castaway on an island, it was everything to me, and the restless ocean out of which it had just come and of which it irresistibly reminded me, for I too was shipwrecked and alone end holding out against disaster.”

(via Free writing « stalker)

writersnoonereads: No one reads Daniel Spoerri, a visual artist known for his snare-pictures, and also the author of a classic literary snare-picture, An Anecdoted Topography of Chance—an unfortunately difficult book to track down. The premise of An Anecdoted Topography of Chance is simple: the map above is of Spoerri’s room, drawn on the afternoon of October 17, 1961. After numbering the items in his room, the author set out to inventory each object, providing in the process an autobiography unlike any you’ve read. Each page lists a single object (illustrated by the inimitable Roland Topor) followed by an entry describing the object. Sometimes laconic: 44 Very Pretty Dark Blue Bottle with a large neck, bought in a shop opposite the Galerie Raymond Cordier, rue Guenegaud, one day when for no apparent reason I visited the gallery; said bottle is topped by a socket and bulb, the whole forming a bedside lamp. And at others elaborate, like number 66, a bottle of Sauze (a cologne), to which are appended three footnotes and five pages of text that ends with the following anecdote: I myself was so drunk that evening that I’m certain it was there I infected my finger, and not in the door of a taxi, as I once supposed; after two days the infection had spread almost up to my shoulder, and I was sent to a doctor: if I had come two days later, he said, I probably would have died of blood poisoning. To get a better idea of how the book works (and to see how easily it could be adapted to an online text), see this page. And for an article about “chance art,” see Dario Gamboni piece in Cabinet Magazine.

writersnoonereads:

No one reads Daniel Spoerri, a visual artist known for his snare-pictures, and also the author of a classic literary snare-picture, An Anecdoted Topography of Chance—an unfortunately difficult book to track down.

The premise of An Anecdoted Topography of Chance is simple: the map above is of Spoerri’s room, drawn on the afternoon of October 17, 1961. After numbering the items in his room, the author set out to inventory each object, providing in the process an autobiography unlike any you’ve read. Each page lists a single object (illustrated by the inimitable Roland Topor) followed by an entry describing the object. Sometimes laconic:

44 Very Pretty Dark Blue Bottle

with a large neck, bought in a shop opposite the Galerie Raymond Cordier, rue Guenegaud, one day when for no apparent reason I visited the gallery; said bottle is topped by a socket and bulb, the whole forming a bedside lamp.

And at others elaborate, like number 66, a bottle of Sauze (a cologne), to which are appended three footnotes and five pages of text that ends with the following anecdote:

I myself was so drunk that evening that I’m certain it was there I infected my finger, and not in the door of a taxi, as I once supposed; after two days the infection had spread almost up to my shoulder, and I was sent to a doctor: if I had come two days later, he said, I probably would have died of blood poisoning.

To get a better idea of how the book works (and to see how easily it could be adapted to an online text), see this page.

And for an article about “chance art,” see Dario Gamboni piece in Cabinet Magazine.

(via howard-roark)

purestform: Typical Structures within Groups Who Shall Survive?A New Approach to The Problem of Human InterrelationsMoreno, 1934

purestform:

Typical Structures within Groups


Who Shall Survive?
A New Approach to The Problem of Human Interrelations
Moreno, 1934

(via howard-roark)

cjwho: The Very Fabric of Architecture: textile use in construction Tahari Showroom, New York

cjwho:

The Very Fabric of Architecture: textile use in construction

Tahari Showroom, New York

(via artorwhat)