Archive for August 2nd, 2010

Sharon Tate’s Actual Life Awareness Month, Day 2

August 2, 2010

Photographed by Walter Chappell at Big Sur, California. 1964.

This is my life: Only this moment counts, only this day. I have never worried about my future.

(Sharon Tate, “Mein Glück, Mein Angst, Mein Hoffnung / My fortune, my fear, my hope.” Jazmin, August 1969.)


This is also the hope I have for my own life: just carry on living like I do now — perfectly happy … or is this maybe asking a bit too much?


Sharon and Walter Chappell, the man who took these photos at Big Sur in 1964, became friends. Mr. Chappell did not make the pictures public until the last decade, when he consented shortly before his death for the photographs to be used in a 2001 showing in Los Angeles at the Roth Horowitz Anderson Gallery. Chappell originally printed three copies of the Big Sur portfolio he’d shot with Sharon: the first was the (rejected) portfolio he’d sent to her producer Martin Ransohoff; the second was the portfolio that was shown at the gallery in 2001. Her husband has the final copy. A much more detailed article on the story of Ms. Tate’s shoots with Mr. Chappell may be found here.

Daily Batman: Weighty issues on her mind.

August 2, 2010

It’s a lot to think about. Also works really well with the picture right beneath it.


Mean Girls Monday: Don’t judge

August 2, 2010

Perfectly normal, perfectly healthy.

Julia Chantrey as Amber D’Alessio.

Never made out with a hot dog, but Gorgeous George whipped up some guacamole yesterday at Paolo and Miss D’s that I could seriously see myself in a relationship with. I’ve been thinking about it all day.

Liberated Negative Space o’ the Day: Breaking news — this time it’s personal, “Tiki Bob’s” edition

August 2, 2010

She did warn him.

E.E. Cummings Month: “Buffalo Bill’s”

August 2, 2010

Buffalo Bill’s
             who used to
              ride a watersmooth-silver
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat
he was a handsome man
                                          and what i want to know is
how do you like your blueeyed boy
Mister Death

(E.E. Cummings, “Buffalo Bill’s,” 1920.)


Well, how do you, Mr. Death.

This is one of several Cummings poems first published in The Dial in 1920. A very early example of his fascination with unusual forms, “Buffalo Bill’s” use of whitespace in the poem is in part influenced by Pablo Picasso, who Cummings met in Paris after serving time in France on a trumped up charge of being a spy during the Great War (total folklore — he was a volunteer ambulance driver and was guilty of nothing more than being an outspoken critic of war, violence, and suffering in general). Cummings was also a painter and was inspired by Picasso’s formalistic experiments in cubism: he carried the philosophy forward in to his writing as well.