The American flags website

 https://harry-de-vries.itch.io/dreaming-in-symbiosis

  If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? @benthenpc A person can never truly leave their childhood behind. Gentle friend or grief stricken wound, it accompanies our whole life, often trying to pursue us, usually catching up with us. This path begins on the steep ascent of adolescence and the formation of the adult whereby the person becomes belonging to a group, a community, a place by adopting the right codes, image and uniforms which manifests itself with a desperate eagerness to the ego. Ben Shelley’s debut fashion collection was necromancy at work. Childhood imagination – strangled dead from this codified, mundane and despairing task of appropriating (dressing) ourselves – was revived. The collection consisted of a series of neo-soft toys brought to life in the form of trousers, jackets, shirts and various accessories. Models wore plush headwear and each carried a soft toy while walking, which either characterised or complimented the ...

  https://250ko.online @cursed_juliet https://lenahager.com @lukelukeluke1393 @luna.cdv @paul.ac58 @evida__ @ambrosiaprojects__ ambrosiaprojects.com @acedie58 http://acedie58.fr Revolution doesn't exist. I don't say this lightly, as someone who has spent many thoughts over the ways in which my life and my affect might influence revolution in some form or another. To reiterate, revolution is illusionary. It's boring. It's a fallacy bred into us like any myth of old, inspiring verve into minds dedicated to a way of being that authenticates their Being. Everything that has happened and will happen is revolution in a sense. Even those people one knows and considers to be exceptionally talented (insofar as you are even slightly envious of them), whom I posit are potentially closest to revolution in their nature, know it's bleakness. It is like a relief eroded from the breath of time; its bleached surface translates an attitude brokenly. However, the pursuit of it I do no...

  Who wears hoodies? Everybody; “Any body who has style, anyone venturing into the wind or rain, anyone not utterly resistant to the world’s most functional, practical and ubiquitous piece of dress from the last century wears hoodies [ emphasis added ].” By virtue of the garment’s inherent qualities and the physical experience of wearing a hoodie, I intend to reveal that the hoodie is closely associated with the notion that dress is the boundary between the internal self and the external other. By understanding that boundary I argue that Hoodies intensify the enigmatic character of clothes as structures that have the simultaneous ability to hide and disclose the body. Instead of focusing on the political aspects of the hoodie which are already well covered in the literature, I understand the hoodie significantly through phenomenology to offer an account of how the personal becomes political in an unnecessary way. With many hoodies to choose to analyse, none could be more iconic...

Author : Finn McGrath I exited Chinatown's George Street, drenched, a couple kg heavier from torrential downpour, and entered a boastful massage parlour adorned with signs in all different languages, graphics and colours. I felt pressed into the belly of the Anthropocene. Walking up three flights of stairs, the incessant background noise of the city, (the Anthropocene's soundtrack) followed me up, and into the small space of Schmick Contemporary.  In an interesting turn of events, I planned to meet and talk about this show and other art things with Thomas Kusturin, Curator of Pr!vat51. We had a great chat over KBBQ with my friend Elliot after this show and it was cool to have this strange sense of closure in chatting with him after writing my review of his show. Addressing the exhibition - BLACKBOX: The colour vibrancy felt in this exhibition, with its overwhelming hue of purple, was not any attempt at escapism from the hum, drum, lum of the inner city. But a true acceptance, o...