Halloween Games | Apple bobbing (1500- 1968)

 Party game, apple on the string, Undated photograph
Halloween Games,  Apple bobbing, 1935
A group of boys bobbing for apples to celebrate halloween, 1945
Royal Caledonian Schools, Hertz, Scotland, 1900
Halloween party in New York, 1940
Apple bobbing, 1950s
Little Boy and Girl Bobbing For Apples, 1930's                                           Redbook magazine, 1933
An apple bobbing game at a Halloween fancy-dress party, 1922
Postcard of Boy Bobbing for Apples on Halloween, 1900
Boys enjoying the traditional sport of apple bobbing, 5th London Defence Corps Brigade Sports Day, Kensington Gardens, 1925
Apple bobbing, 1900s
A group of men playing 'bob apple' at halloween, circa 1500
Apple bobbing, 1968

Also:

Equivalents | Photos by Alfred Stieglitz (1910-1930)

Alfred Stieglitz, Equivalent, 1930
Alfred Stieglitz,  Equivalent, 1930                                                                       Alfred Stieglitz, 1930



"My cloud photographs are equivalents of my most profound life experiences, my basic philosophy of life. 
All art is an equivalent of the artist’s most profound life experiences."

"In photography there is a reality so subtle that it becomes more real than reality."

"Photographers must learn not to be ashamed to have their photographs look like photographs."

"Wherever there is light, one can photograph."


Alfred Stieglitz

Alfred Stieglitz, The dirigible, 1910
Alfred Stieglitz, Equivalent (Songs of the Sky), 1923                                                                Alfred Stieglitz, Song of the Sky and Trees, 1923
Alfred Stieglitz, The Aeroplane, 1910
Alfred Stieglitz, Equivalent, 1929                                                        Alfred Stieglitz, Equivalent, 1926
Alfred Stieglitz, Equivalent, 1927
Alfred Stieglitz, Music, A Sequence of Ten Cloud Photographs, N° VII, 1922


Dead End Street | William Arthur Ward / Stephen Wright / Greil Marcus / Ray Davies

Fred Lyon


"Failure is delay, but not defeat. It is a temporary detour, not a dead-end street."

William Arthur Ward (1921-94)


“I live on a one-way street that's also a dead end. I'm not sure how I got there.”

 Stephen Wright 


"It is a sure sign that a culture has reached a dead end when it is no longer intrigued by its myths." 

Greil Marcus


The Kinks, Dead End Street, 1966

Filmed on Little Green Street, a diminutive eighteenth century lane 
in North London, located off Highgate Road in Kentish Town.


J[A-Z]Z / p1ck ( The Sidewinder | Lee Morgan, 1964


design Reid Miles / photo Francis Wolff


Lee Morgan, Totem Pole, The Sidewinder, 1964


Released in July 1964. The company issued only 4,000 copies upon release, they ran out of stock in three or four days. 
By January 1965, the album had reached No. 25 on the Billboard chart.


Lee Morgan – trumpet
Joe Henderson – tenor saxophone
Barry Harris – piano
Bob Cranshaw – double bass
Billy Higgins – drums

Bill Wagg, Hard bop trumpeter Lee Morgan, c 1960


Periplus | Haris Kalligas, 1979

Monemvasia, Lakonia, Greece


                                                                                                                                                              II. Goulas *

                                                                                            The birds' wings
                                                                                            waves
                                                                                            that beat on our ears
                                                                                            on the rock


                                                                                                                                                                III. Field Work

                                                                                             Myths
                                                                                             grow from the earth
                                                                                             bedrizzled
                                                                                             with the wildflowers
                                                                                             sea smell of the air.
                                                                                             Ghosts appear at noon
                                                                                             light turning into
                                                                                             dense lowering cloud
                                                                                             weight on the earth insupportable.
                                                                                             Along with fragrances,
                                                                                             the stones beginning to sprout
                                                                                             pour out of the houses
                                                                                             their potent and restless shadows
                                                                                             that move the stillness slowly.

                                                                                             The birds
                                                                                             come back in the evening.

                                                                                                                                                                       [...]


                                                                                              Periplus, Minoa Akra *, Haris Kalligas, 1979
                                                                                              tr. Alan L. Boegehold 


* Monemvasia, Lakonia, Greece in ancient times it was called "Minoa Akra" / “Άκρα Μίνωα” 
as described in Pausanias (c. AD 110 - c. 180) Description of Greece.

Frederick de Witt, Monemvasia Map, 1680


This Daedal Planet | Patricia Highsmith, 1921-95

Patricia Highsmith


''If [Patricia Highsmith] saw an acquaintance walking down the sidewalk she would deliberately cross over so as to avoid them. When she came in contact with people, she realised she split herself into many different, false, identities, but, because she loathed lying and deceit, she chose to absent herself completely rather than go through such a charade.''

''[Patricia] was an extremely unbalanced person, extremely hostile and misanthropic and totally incapable of any kind of relationship, not just intimate ones. I felt sorry for her, because it wasn't her fault. There was something in her early days or whatever that made her incapable. She drove everybody away and people who really wanted to be friends ended up putting the phone down on her.''

''[She] was overwhelmed by sensory stimulation - there were too many people and too much noise and she just could not handle the supermarket.''

''The plane of social intercourse,' she said, 'is not the plane of creation, not the plane on which creative ideas fly [...] This is a curious thing, because sometimes the very people we are attracted to or in love with act as effectively as rubber insulators to the spark of inspiration.''

 ''She was hypersensitive to sound and had these communications difficulties. Most of us screen certain things, but she would spit out everything she thought. She was not aware of the nuances of conversation and she didn't realise when she had hurt other people.''

''The moral is: stay alone. Any idea of any close relationship should be imaginary, like any story I am writing. This way no harm is done to me or to any other person'.''

"She never showed her feelings and I never knew what she thought of me. If someone reached out to touch or greet her she would always take one or two steps back. Yet her face was full of life and everything she thoguht or felt you could see in her eyes."


Patricia Highsmith


''Bruno Sager, Highsmith's carer at the end of her life, recalls the delicacy with which the writer would take hold of a spider which had crawled into the house, making sure to deposit it safely in her garden. 'For her human beings were strange - she thought she would never understand them - and perhaps that is why she liked cats and snails so much,' he says.''

 ''There is no depression for the artist except that caused by a return to the self'.''

'''Existence is a matter of unconscious elimination of negative and pessimistic thinking. I mean, to survive at all. And this applies to everyone. We are all suicides under the skin, and under the surface of our lives.''

''The mere thought that she was alone and surrounded by books gave her a near sensuous thrill. As she looked around her room, dark except for the slash of light near her lamp, and saw the vague outlines of her books, she asked herself, 'Have I not the whole world?'''

''In April 1947, she transcribed into her notebook what was, presumably, a real dialogue between herself and her mother, in which Mary accused her of not facing the world. Highsmith replied that she did indeed view the world 'sideways, but since the world faces reality sideways, sideways is the only way the world can be looked at in true perspective.' The problem, Highsmith said, was that her psychic optics were different to those around her, but if that was the case, her mother replied, then she should equip herself with a pair of new spectacles. Highsmith was not convinced. 'Then I need a new birth,' she concluded.''


Andrew Wilson, Beautiful Shadow: A Life of Patricia Highsmith, 2003


Patricia Highsmith

Strangers on a Train, 1950                                  The Talented Mr. Ripley 1955                         This Sweet Sickness, 1960


Catherine Deneuve / Speaks | Photos by Loomis Dean (1961)



"Acting is also working with people who invite you into their dreams and trust you with their innermost being."

Catherine Deneuve



"A woman has to be intelligent, have charm, a sense of humor, and be kind. It's the same qualities I require from a man."

Catherine Deneuve


"People expect a lot more from someone they think looks interesting. It's a burden."

Catherine Deneuve


"I love to not work. I love to go to the movies, I like to travel... I think I work maybe half the year.
Sometimes, people think I've done three films in a year, but it's because I did a participation in a film.
 But I work for half a year, no more."

Catherine Deneuve


"You can express a lot of things, a lot of action without speaking."

Catherine Deneuve


"I love to do very long and complicated scenes."

Catherine Deneuve


"I think the clothes in Belle de Jour are very important to the style of the film. Even today, it is still timeless."

Catherine Deneuve

Sisters Catherine Deneuve and Françoise Dorléac photographed with a friend by Loomis Dean, 1961

''The only human being I could tell everything was my sister Françoise. She and I were so diametrically different; 
put together we would have been a fantastic woman.''

Catherine Deneuve


"I like some of the early silent films because I love to watch how actors had to play then. 
What would interest me today is to do a silent film."

Catherine Deneuve


Loomis Dean (1917 – 2005) was a veteran Life Magazine photographer who shot pictures of circus clowns, crown princes, 
Hollywood stars, Madagascar lemurs and SS Andrea Doria survivors in a five-decade long career. 


Also: 


We are half awake | William James, 1842 - 1910

William James, Self-portrait, c 1866


"My experience is what I agree to attend to."

"Begin to be now what you will be hereafter."

"Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does."

"Man lives for science as well as bread."

"Belief creates the actual fact."

"Religion is a monumental chapter in the history of human egotism."

"Philosophy is an unusually stubborn attempt to think clearly."

"Psychology is the science of mental life."

"The means have murdered the end."

"The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook."

"To study the abnormal is the best way of understanding the normal."

"The union of the mathematician with the poet, fervor with measure, passion with correctness, this surely is the ideal."

"There is no more miserable human being than one in whom nothing is habitual but indecision."

"If you care enough for a result, you will most certainly attain it."

"A sense of humor is just common sense dancing."

"The deepest principle in human nature is the craving to be appreciated."

"All our life, so far as it has definite form, is but a mass of habits."

"Pessimism leads to weakness, optimism to power."

"I don't sing because I'm happy; I'm happy because I sing."

"Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task."

"When you have to make a choice and don't make it, that is in itself a choice."

"In business for yourself, not by yourself."

"Truth is what works."

"Time itself comes in drops."

"None of us are ever who we were yesterday."

"Our view of the world is truly shaped by what we decide to hear."

"Compared to what we ought to be, we are half awake."

"Damn the Absolute!"


William James 1842-1910

John La Farge, Portrait of William James, c 1859


William James (1842-1910) an American philosopher and psychologist who was also trained as a physician. The first educator to offer a psychology course in the United States. W. James work has influenced intellectuals such as Émile Durkheim, W. E. B. Du Bois, Edmund Husserl, Bertrand Russell, Ludwig Wittgenstein and Hilary Putnam.

William James had toyed with the idea of becoming a painter, and took lessons in the studio of William Morris Hunt in Newport, Rhode Island, but he switched in 1861 to scientific studies at the Lawrence Scientific School of Harvard University. He took up medical studies at Harvard Medical School in 1864 (according to his brother Henry James). James finally earned his M.D. degree in June 1869 but he never practiced medicine. W. James in 1902 he would write: "I originally studied medicine in order to be a physiologist, but I drifted into psychology and philosophy from a sort of fatality.''


Λυρικό / Σονέτο / Φαύνοι / Αθανασία | Μήτσος Παπανικολάου (1900-1943)


Μήτσος Παπανικολάου (1900 - 1964)


                                                                                                    Λυρικό

                                                                                                   Ήταν αλήθεια πως εζούσα
                                                                                                   Κάποια ζωή ξεχωριστή
                                                                                                   Ζούσα όπως ήθελεν η Μούσα
                                                                                                   Κι όπως δεν ήθελε η ζωή
                                                                                                   Λοξά με κοίταζαν οι άλλοι
                                                                                                   Σαν να με παίρναν για τρελό
                                                                                                   Κι ήταν για με χαρά μεγάλη
                                                                                                   Μαζί τους πάντα να γελώ
                                                                                                   Μ’ αλήθεια, αν έχασα το νου μου
                                                                                                   Κι αν έχω τώρα τρελαθεί,
                                                                                                   Το’ πάθα, αχ άστρο τα’ ουρανού μου,
                                                                                                   Όταν επρόβαλες εσύ!…


                                                                                                   Σονέτο
                                                                                                  (στον Ν. Λαπαθιώτη)

                                                                                                  Του πόθου πηγές
                                                                                                  Μια νιότη γυμνή
                                                                                                  Του δρόμου το θέλγητρο
                                                                                                  Προς το άγνωστο πάντα
                                                                                                  Μαδημένα τριαντάφυλλα
                                                                                                  Στης αγάπης το διάβα
                                                                                                  Κι αγάπες βρεγμένες
                                                                                                  Σε δάκρυα, πάντα.
                                                                                                  Είμαστε Ναπολέων
                                                                                                  Ταξιδιώτες κυνηγημένοι;
                                                                                                  Ω τίποτα άλλο δεν είμαστε
                                                                                                  Παρά άνθρωποι μόνο
                                                                                                  Που προσπάθειά τους υπέρτατη
                                                                                                  Ο έρωτας είναι ή ο θάνατος.


                                                                                                  (γραμμένο στα γαλλικά, μτφ Τ. Κόρφη)


                                                                                                  Φαύνοι

                                                                                                  Θα χορέψουμε στο φως των άστρων,
                                                                                                  θα τρέξουμε ξυπόλυτοι στην άσφαλτο του δρόμου,
                                                                                                  στα φώτα των αυτοκινήτων που θά 'ρχονται,
                                                                                                  θα κοιμηθούμε στα ψηλά χόρτα κοντά στους βατράχους.

                                                                                                  Θα μείνουμε μόνοι.
                                                                                                  Έπειτα θά 'ρθουν τα φιλήματα να κλείσουνε τα μάτια μας,
                                                                                                  τα χέρια θα ενώσουμε στον ύπνο
                                                                                                  και το πρωί θα ξυπνήσουμε πεθαμένοι;


                                                                                                   Αθανασία

                                                                                                   Αν είχες πεθάνει θα σ’ είχε ξεχάσει η μητέρα σου.
                                                                                                   Αν σ’ είχα αγαπήσει θα σ’ είχα ξεχάσει κι εγώ.
                                                                                                   Η στιγμή γίνηκε ευθεία μέσα στο χρόνο,
                                                                                                   βέλος μες στην καρδιά μου
                                                                                                   βελόνα που κεντάει τη μνήμη.
                                                                                                   Το χέρι σου λάμπει στη νύχτα, σημαία του κόσμου.



                                                                                                    Μήτσος Παπανικολάου (1900-1943)

Μήτσος Παπανικολάου (1900 - 1964) | Jean Cocteau (1889 –1963)


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