Saturday, September 11, 2010

Alyssa Young

From my vaults: John Logie Baird


Bio:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Logie_Baird

Zuzana Straska


ph: Billy Kidd

A Trip to Dublin #2

Usually I'd take a plane from Munich to Dublin, since the Munich airport is only about 60 miles from here where I live. However, on that particular Thursday there was only one flight that would have arrived at midnight. So I decided to take a flight from Frankfurt which would get me to Dublin at noon. The problem is: Frankfurt is 300 miles from here...

Normally it would be a 3-hour train ride to Frankfurt, but on the day I was to catch the plane the only available train that would get me there on time was a 6-hour night train which on top of that would arrive in Frankfurt 4 hours before my flight. The next train was out of the question. And: it was obligatory to make reservations. I did so by phone getting a seat and not a couchette and paid an extra 25 Euro just for the reservations, although the ticket itself was already paid for. I was told that I can print out the reservation confirmation at one of the tellers at the station.

So, since I knew from experience that most of those machines don't operate correctly
I got there earlier than necessary. Naturally, the first teller didn't recognize me at all, but after a few desperate attempts I found a second one that did.

As usual my train was 15 minutes late, but that didn't matter much, since I was to have so much time to spend. I got on the train and searched for my reserved seat all prepared for a 6-hour reading session till Frankfurt. Well, I found out that my reserved 'seat' was part of a bench in a couchette, the compartment was absolutely dark, a young woman fast asleep across from me and the top benches 6-7 feet above were clapped down, too, ready for further sleepers.



Therefore I was in the uncomfortable situation that I had to sit still not waking the girl who strangely was not disturbed by my presence in any way, she just went on sleeping. I spent the first hour in silent contemplation, then decided to lay myself down, too, if nobody joined the compartment after the next stop in Nuremberg, and so it was. I dozed off and awoke occasionally hearing the girl moving in her sleep. In fact I heard her movements, but awkwardly I didn't see her moving! It took me about 3 hours to realize that way above us were another two sleepers I hadn't even noticed...

Well, I finally fell asleep now that I knew what the situation in this chamber was and was awoken by my cell phone alarm at 5.45am, set for 15 minutes before the train was to arrive in Frankfurt. Luckily I had set the alarm I would have slept right on through. I slowly got myself back in an upward position and noticed that the train was standing still in a station. I went out and checked where we were, and it was already Frankfurt! My train, 15 minutes late, had arrived 15 minutes too early (or maybe even more, since I had been fast asleep).

Olesya Senchenko

New York



(ph: Garry Winogrand)

Tanya Dziahileva

First Lines: L. Frank Baum - The Wonderful Wizard of Oz


Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's wife.

Jerry Hall



New Stuff: Stevie Wonder


In the 70s, when I started collecting records, I had a German dictionary on rock music ("Das Rock-Lexikon") which was my bible for quite a few years. I still browse through it from time to time. At the end of the book there was a list of 100 essential albums which I more or less tried to purchase. But for various reasons there are quite a few titles I never did buy. "Songs in the Key of Life" was one of them. Although I did like Stevie Wonder I assume that his later schlocky hits, especially "I just called to say I love you", probably made me shy away from the purchase. However, my pal Gerhard has always been telling me what a great album it is, and now reading Giles Smith's 'Lost in Music' with a chapter on Stevie Wonder, I finally decided to take the risk.

Who's That Girl?

Illustrator: Max Bucaille


Find more at:

http://www.artnet.com/artist/554123/max-bucaille.html

Yulia Vasiltsova


ph: Danil Golovkin

From my vaults: Diora Baird


Bio:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diora_Baird

Claire Campbell

New York


(photo by me)

Mary Cann

William S. Burroughs: The Cat Inside


Accidentally kicked Fletch, who was sleeping in the doorway to my room. He started to run. I carried him back and laid him on the bed and soon he was purring, then sleeping on his back. His face is something between a bat and a cat and a monkey...the top of his head a sleek, glistening black, the ears fuzzy and bat-like. The face with its black snout and long, expressive lips, like a sad monkey. Easy to imagine a Bat Cat, its leathery black wings glistening, sharp little teeth, glowing green eyes. His whole being radiates a pure, wild sweetness, flitting through night woods with little melodious cries, on some cryptic errand. There is also an aura of doom and sadness about this trusting little creature. He has been abandoned many times over the centuries, left to die in cold city alleys, in hot noon vacant lots, pottery shards, nettles, crumbled mud walls. Many times he has cried for help in vain.