Credit Lyonnais

Credit Lyonnais, originally uploaded by pureandapplied.

While in Paris (in October last year on our honeymoon) we stayed in an apartment in the district known as Opera, which is the home to many of France's financial institutions.

Each night we would sit in the window of our apartment having a wine, watching the street, and observing the workers in the Credit Lyonnais headquarters adjacent have meetings, talk on the phone, file documents, fiddle on their computers.

This fairly plain photo, taken on Friday night, Oct 14 shows one of those workers clearing her desk after being made redundant at the beginning of the financial crisis.


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Where The Wild Things Are Trailer

Hearing on twitter that Maurice Sendak's much-loved children's book Where the Wild Things Are is being produced as a movie creates excitement and anxiety in almost equal measures.

Excitement that a treasured story has been realised and extended, and anxiety that the production doesn't trample or dishonour the fondly-imagined world of the book. This trailer leaves me hopeful, at least.

YouTube – Where The Wild Things Are Trailer (HD).

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Adam Aitken’s book launch

Adam Aitken’s new collection of poetry Eighth Habitation (published by Giramondo) will be launched by Marcelle Freiman at Gleebooks in Sydney at 4pm on Sunday 5th April. 

‘a lucid and finally lyrical voice… wholly original on the Australian scene’ – michael brennan


Via Pam Brown's blog the deletions.

Photo of Adam by Juno Gemes.

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Bitter William

The first born's a nong and yet they give him
the hat and stick and jacket. Now golf's easier
than tennis, than anything I've tried, than all the ars

combined, and easier than memory – what colour
were your eyes, your hair – I speculate on your underwear.
You're vanishing, or the thought of you is less indelible,

the image of your form in the lab now a sunlit
shimmer – soon only a name, a half-remembered
gesture, my hand on your vulva between classes.

Still my brother's the better man – more domestic
than feral, suburban not dilettante – a glamourless,
blameless middle. Saturdays he carts the attack

all over the park; he shines as though all the shims
and wedges of the mighty were exerted at his whim;
how he wields the earth! And I'm laconic in the stands,

expectant as an aged passenger, static and seething,
where once I was unencumbered as a eucalypt. So we live
up here tethered at the whip-end of a steaming coil

of asphalt looped around the mountain – bachelor
captives on a hillside dairy where the buried forebears
set up a ceaseless chatter. Were I to go far from this place,

I'd miss the cows' gentle lowing, the town shopping strip
there below, the amateur theatrical society, Sunday mass,
the idiolect. In the manipulative sky, the implacable faces

of the angels decry my several murders, uncomposed, alone.

Written by the pseudonymous Flannery O'Malley, and first published in Cordite #23: Children of Malley,  April 2005.

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The art of the sneaky shot

Monet's 'Waterlilies', originally uploaded by pureandapplied.

Taking candid shots of strangers in public involves a certain amount of surreptitious maneuvering, of seeming to be doing something other than what you're actually doing. Apparently admiring the cathedral's flying buttress while composing a shot of the family of five at your elbow and waiting for them to compose themselves is the sort of patient and yet contorted thing you find yourself doing.

The Nikon D80 I use isn't noted for being spy, which means I get busted, grimaced at plenty, and shouted at occasionally.

So I envy this fellow photographer her considered, in-the-background style and black Samsung (possibly this one) which is at the "silent running" end of compacts. Neither of us broke cover in spite of taking a minute or so for several shots each.

UPDATE: This shot was taken during a visit to the l'Orangerie.

More spy shots of strangers.

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Fixie Figure 8 T


I love my fixie, I love
8s, I love Ts,
I love type.

More at Workerman.

Via @guchagucha

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Awesome funk mashup by Kutiman

This tour-de-force mashup using 22 sources prompted an amusingly triumphal take from 43 Folders (in the now-familiar theme of "the future of music is ours"):

Unsolicited tip for media company c-levels: if your reaction to this crate of magic is “Hm. I wonder how we’d go about suing someone who ‘did this’ with our IP?” instead of, “Holy crap, clearly, this is the freaking future of entertainment,” it’s probably time to put some ramen on your Visa and start making stuff up for your LinkedIn page.

Great mashups demonstrate two timeless truths:

  1. that deep talent will
    gleefully outwit, outflank and outrun the restrictive nature of
    copyright and IP law by funkin it up around the sprawling, fraying digital edges, and

  2. that the infamous backward-looking C-levels (do they even exist in Australia?) are internets roadkill, and folks like Kutiman are creating the funeral music.

Via 43 folders.

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