A Tasmanian devil (Sarcophilus harrisii) walks down a simulated country road at Taronga zoo’s new Tasmanian devil breeding centre in Sydney
@ The Week In Wildlife
For all that, there is a dark, brooding beauty in these images that is singular and affecting. In The Solitude of Ravens, Fukase found a subject that reflected his darkening vision, and he pursued it with obsessive relentlessness. It remains his most powerful work, and a kind of epitaph for a life that has been even sadder and darker than the photographs suggest.
Lee Rourke’s Brief History of Fables, from Hesperus Press (via)
Great cover – reminds me, in a good way, of this one. Also, looking forward to Rourke’s novel The Canal.
My surrealistic novel created the fictional character of a sculptor who isolates himself for three years inside a volcanic fault in search of the meaning of art creation, ultimately challenging his own strength. This character’s pursuit engaged me more powerfully over time. It became a lead, a comfort, a presence in my steps. Aware of my mounting obsession, my husband, himself a musician resolved to find a place that would replicate the setting of my novel. One morning at sunrise, we drove to Ferraria.
I keep returning to Ferraria — the disappeared island, Ilha Sabrina — with fascination. There, at the end of a winding road, lays a desolate field of volcanic stones and a hot spring surging into the seawater. At mid-tide, between rocks, one can bathe in secluded warm water while wild ocean waves break close by. Early morning or after sunset, the area is back to complete isolation; ruins of a house stand, strange solace. The place is stone for stone, wave for wave, the landscape that my novel had depicted.
~ Christine Arveil, The Volcano Project (via)
Keegan Gibbs (via plsj)
“Meditation is one of the greatest arts in life — perhaps the greatest, and one cannot possibly learn it from anybody, that is the beauty of it. It has no technique and therefore no authority.”
~ J. Krishnamurti
(via whiskey river)
“Pixeljack Forest / Where Cursors Come From” by Nathan Pyle (via)
Common to all the landscapes above is that they’re fake. That’s right, all made up. Matthew Albanese is not only a photographer but also the creator of astonishingly detailed, small-scale miniature landscapes, his “Strange Worlds.” He photographs each model about 500 times, using forced perspective to make the images look very real.
@ Environmental Graffiti