(B) for Blog

Wishing & Hoping

Dendrite Neural Expansion Module / Brain Fragment

Song of the Day

I Want You to Want Me – Damhnait Doyle

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Brigitte

Hello Sunshine

Premature Independence Day Highlights

This is how I see tomorrow unfolding, minus the breasts, since I’m going solo. Heading into the woods for a bit, see y’all on Wednesday when I come back.

M.Clark

Photography  by an old college mate who now lives and blogs in NYC.

Meg Clark

I have to credit American Apparel for venturing outside of the abused realm of sunken-cheeked models to find other women. They get it right 75% of the time.

EYE.SCREAM.

Song of the Evening

Bruises – Chairlift

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Them Rag

The dude(s?) over at hrstudioplus have ventured into a physical iteration of their visual aesthetic we all know and love. The magazine is called Them Rag and the second issue has just come out.

More Information

Lara Stone by Steven Klein

fuck i love blondie

CBD Radio 6/30

Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold
I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
When I’m deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets

WPTR Radio is back for another night of rocking rhythms and bashful blues, so hold onto your hats ladies and germs, because this-is-it

Some of Us Know Best
by
RUNE

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We Paint the Town Rune

Molloy’s Return to France

I wouldn’t know what to write because I don’t know where to start. Or where to end. Or what’s really important. I know the lock on the bottom of the door scratches loudly along the tiles when you open and close it. We all know that, but we don’t do a thing about that. We all know it scratches along the floor, that that noise is something to put up with. It doesn’t matter anyways. Have you ever found yourself on a train? Trying to find your reflection in the windows as different back-drops flash by. Maybe a guy sat down beside you and started to read a magazine. Maybe you combed your hair that morning. Nine days, or is it eight, until I’m home again. I know what it is to travel. I know that sweating is a part of summer, and the lock scratches the door every time.

Sleepless Nights

Sleepless Nights
Helmut Newton, 1978