I have always been insanely jealous of how Stanley Kubrick did his self portraits. They are at once wonderfully completely self-absorbed, playfully mocking, happily understated and totally unapologetic.
I wish I had this ability, to look at myself hidden behind the camera and take the moments of myself without reserve.
I need a new one, and it will not at all be as good as these are.
98 year old dobri dobrev, a man who lost his hearing in the second world war, walks 10 kilometers from his village in his homemade clothes and leather shoes to the city of sofia, where he spends the day begging for money.
though a well known fixture around several of the city’s churches, known for his prostrations of thanks to all donors, it was only recently discovered that he has donated every penny he has collected — over 40,000 euros — towards the restoration of decaying bulgarian monasteries and churches and the utility bills of orphanages, living instead off his monthly state pension of 80 euros.
Reading the news today, it was grim as usual. There are however still signs that our minds are alive, that poetry and music are alive too. People in Saginaw are still painting the lyrics of Paul Simon’s “America” on abandoned buildings in their town. It’s little acts of ideological grace in the face of another dying Great Lakes town that make me happy.
It’s easy to forget while living here for years, but there are those moments when you realize that being in Milwaukee has these really amazing futurist elements and really staggering architectural diversity.