Charles Darwin's son George was an astronomer who believed the moon was created by molten lava that had been sucked into the atmosphere. Frances Cornford (his granddaughter.) wrote the following poem:
O fat white woman whom nobody loves, Why do you walk through the fields in gloves…?
The heavy breath? The close tussle? The whites of Kathy Dillon's eyes? Does anyone else feel like they need a hug after watching this? The intensity of this video is brilliant. Every moment is brimming with claustrophobia and frenzy, as it holds you in uncomfortable suspense of the conclusion to this confrontation. While there isn't a moment in which there is the threat of a raised hand, the bizarre violation Acconci inflicts upon Dillon is enough to expose his persistent action as a manifestation of violence. Furthermore, her futile attempt to resist his grasp leaves you with the exacerbating emotional burden of her impotence. We get it, Acconci: fashion tasers, ladies.
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Here are a few sketches I feel are potential T-shirt designs. I apologize for the quality of the pictures. I only have a camera phone to work with. If there are any you guys are particularly interested in: I can try to get some better pictures. Some of these are really rough and need some serious cleaning up, but I'm sure you can image them reworked. Please keep in mind the inclusion of the logo, as well. Some of these would look best drawing the logo, or the name, in my opinion.
Also! Ashley- you know how I feel about your doodles. You should submit some of them for T-shirts, too. I would buy that t-shirt, for sure. :) We could also talk to other local artists, as well. ( Let me know how you feel about these )
It was nine o'clock at midnight at a quarter after three When a turtle met a bagpipe on the shoreside by the sea, And the turtle said, "My dearie, May I sit with you? I'm weary." And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "I have walked this lonely shore, I have talked to waves and pebbles--but I've never loved before. Will you marry me today, dear? Is it 'No' you're going to say dear?" But the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to his darling, "Please excuse me if I stare, But you have the plaidest skin, dear, And you have the strangest hair. If I begged you pretty please, love, Could I give you just one squeeze, love?" And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Ah, you love me. Then confess! Let me whisper in your dainty ear and hold you to my chest." And he cuddled her and teased her And so lovingly he squeezed her. And the bagpipe said, "Aaooga."
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Did you honk or bray or neigh? For 'Aaooga' when your kissed is such a heartless thing to say. Is it that I have offended? Is it that our love is ended?" And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Shall i leave you, darling wife? Shall i waddle off to Woedom? Shall i crawl out of your life? Shall I move, depart and go, dear-- Oh, I beg you tell me 'No' dear!" But the bagpipe didn't say no.
So the turtle crept off crying and he ne'er came back no more, And he left the bagpipe lying on that smooth and sandy shore. And some night when tide is low there, Just walk up and say, "Hello, there," And politely ask the bagpipe if this story's really so. I assure you, darling children, the bagpipe won't say "No." -Shel Silverstein
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