black hole effect

vantablack art tomorrow started

Vantablack tomorrow started

we can’t wait for the new “vantablack” to hit the shelves manifested as a little black chanel dress or a saint laurent suit. the newly created nano material is capable of absorbing 99.965 percent of light within the visible spectrum, making it the darkest material known to man. the material, so dark that you actually can’t see it, is so mind boggling that when observed in real life, it is like looking into a never ending black hole. naturally no image of the material can reproduce the black hole effect. by kt

morbid anatomy

homo ex humo morbid anatomy museum

the morbid anatomy museum is finally complete, happily residing in their new headquarters in gowanus, brooklyn. i have attended two lectures there so far, both by the knowledgeable and charming dr. john troyer of the university of bath. the first lecture focused on the environmental issue of corpses; basically if their organic biomass is hazardous or helpful. the second dealt with the necrophilia laws in the united states, a case in wisconsin in particular, and other death-related errs in our country’s jurisprudence. nearly every night there is a fascinating lecture in the museum’s basement, and of course, the museum is open during the day as well to satisfy your skeletal cravings. the above photo is called homo ex humo (man from the dust) and can be found on the museum’s website. by sv


tarkovsky the artist exists

but is it the artist’s job to perfect the world, or merely to synthesize themselves with the already existing imperfections? something to ponder today, to sleep on tonight, and to question tomorrow morning. by sv

some ernest advice

letter from hemingway to fitzgerald

sometimes, you feel like you lose all the bloom–GET OVER IT. listen to hemingway, “just keep on and go through with it now…” amen, papa. by sv

the old woman


the old woman bam 001

this past sunday i sat anxiously with my fellow new yorkers (including steve buscemi) in the howard gilman opera house at BAM. we were anticipating the old woman, a beckettian and at times vaudevillian play starring the hysterically strange duo, willem dafoe and mikhail baryshnikov. i say hysterically in the comical sense, their almost slapstick outbursts and alternating shrieks are toxically delightful. the duo could be brothers, with our without the deranged kabuki makeup–and as the show demonstrated, their synchronicity is magnificent. there is an old woman’s corpse, is it in the trapezoidal bed? have several other old women fallen out of the window? are our protagonists, A and B merely halves of the same convoluted mind? perhaps all of these things. the play is based on the novella by daniil kharms, an absurdist soviet poet and writer, and certainly shines with glimpses of mayakovsky and other members of the futurist movement. even days later, i am still captivated by the folkloric animals and the suspenseful, oftentimes menacing lighting by aj weissband. the play runs through the end of the week, if you get a chance to be mesmerized by this angular and engaging pantomime circus. by sv

camus on happiness and love

albert camus drawing on happiness and love

an excerpt taken from the 1951-1959 installment of his journals, illustrated by the multitalented wendy macnaughton for one of my favorite websites (hell–probably my favorite), brain pickings. camus’ journals are illustrious and have provided me with insight for many years. you can purchase the print here, and half of the proceedings will go to a room of her own, a foundation that supports women artists and writers. by sv

a poem for poe

to poe love virginia clemm

Ever with thee I wish to roam–

Dearest my life is thine.

Give me a cottage for my home

And a rich old cypress vine,

Removed from the world with its sin and care

And the tattling of many tongues.

Love alone shall guide us when we are there–

Love shall heal my weakened lungs;

And Oh, the tranquil hours we’ll spend,

Never wishing that others may see!

Perfect ease we’ll enjoy, without thinking to lend

Ourselves to the world and its glee–

Ever peaceful and blissful we’ll be.

for edgar allan poe, from his wife (and cousin!) virginia clemm. penned on valentine’s day, 1846. by sv