mimicking the masters

You know when you visit an art museum and you see an art student sitting down with her own easel and paintbrush, copying the brushstrokes of Degas or van Gogh or Michelangelo? Mimicking the masters. Imitating the greats. Practicing on others’ paintings before she finds her own voice, so to speak. In January, my professor recommended …

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el gran mojado/arcangel

The myth of the first world is that development is wealth and technology progress. It is all rubbish. It means  you are no longer human beings but only labor. It means that the land you live on is not earth but only property. ... This is not a benefit for UNESCO We are not the …

by way of books: accidental peeks into strangers’ lives

A year ago, I discovered Strand's Tumblr, a corner of the Internet curated by employees of the 18-mile long used bookstore in New York. People who sell their books to Strand often leave behind pieces of themselves in the books, whether through notes scribbled in the margins or postcards used as bookmarks. Strand finds the …

jazz age january: “down and out in paris and london,” george orwell

The Paris of my imagination was no match for the Paris of my twenty-first birthday. I wasn't expecting to visit the city at all, due to my dire lack of funds, but I was studying at Cambridge, and my parents bought the Chunnel ticket as a birthday present. I expected excitement, good wine, maybe a …

jazz age january: “how it feels to be colored me,” zora neale hurston

For a book considered to be the pinnacle of literary representation for the Jazz Age, the The Great Gatsby mentions African Americans once: “As we crossed Blackwell’s Island, a limousine passed us, driven by a white chauffeur, in which sat three modish Negroes, two bucks and a girl. I laughed aloud as the yolks of …