Walasse Ting: Red Chinese Calligraphy (1961)
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Interpol article. NME, 29 March 2003. Scanned by me.
📸: Pieter Van M Hattem
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Kate Bush by John Carder Bush
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Dolly Parton during her concert after party at Studio 54 in New York City, 1978.
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PJ Harvey photographed by Maria mochnacz, 1993
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this is one of the most beautiful honest relatable things I’ve ever read
driving to work with my dad listening to am radio and not speaking thinking about how id kill myself if he died. ive only ever been able to think about loving people this way.
i love you means id slit my own throat if you died and i had to live on, alone. it means id claw out my eyes and starve myself in mourning. id tear myself apart, dont you see? i know thats not how you love me but its how i love you.
hes merging onto the highway and we're still not speaking and in the comfort of the silence i want to scream out my love until my throat is raw. he doesn't want me to hurt myself for him, that's my mother. he wants me to live for him and i want to bleed out over his tombstone. that's my mother, as well.
i wouldn't set myself on fire if she died, because she wants me to, i wouldn't. i don't know what to make of that.
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On my 22nd birthday
The water drips
In the dirtiest bar
In Charleston history
SiriusXM no more
Death to us all
I never thought I’d make it here
Matador doesn’t want me
Why am I not good enough?
Though I try hard
It’s not good and I’ve snuffed
Enough coke
To last a life
Though I’ve never had it
I’ve watched
As my friends
Positioned
Themselves
Off of white powder
Enough to kill
Their brain cells
Enough is enough is enough
I know know one
Who snorts
Enough to do so
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Joan Crawford, Photo by George Hurrell, 1932
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Catherine Deneuve in La costanza della ragione (1964)
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Pangea, Len Steckler, circa 1960
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