Sunday, March 14, 2010

The Post Apocalyptic Bobbleheads: Sculpture by Thomas Sherman

The Post Apocalyptic Bobbleheads.

I constructed 125 of these by purchasing Roger Clemens bobbleheads from McDonald's, sawing them apart with a handheld circular saw, rebuilding the armature and covering them in plaster, hot glue and industrial spray foam.

Recognizing that this could easily become a repetitive exercise in styling, I devised a way to make them unique, to give them souls. On small pieces of paper I wrote secrets about myself and buried one inside each of the sculptures.



I am no longer in possession of these pieces and have no idea who is.


More art by Thomas Sherman on flickr

Mourning Poem

Withhold your breath
I'm airborn

Stand your ground
I'm buried alive

Washed up
I burst into tears
I burst into flames...
fire away

-ts



Saturday, March 13, 2010

Which is it?

An excerpt from my memoirs, "Tears of a Crocodile Clown".

Which is it?
I've always thought of myself as being Irish, and I am, partly. There are other nationalities mixed in but I'm not really sure of the percentages. My grandmother's maiden name, on my father side, was "Kelly". Clearly Irish. Her family was from County Mayo. My grandfather's name, my surname, is Sherman. I've never been clear on which nationality it's most closely associated with.

My friend Kiara grew up in the Westchester area of New York but her parents are Irish. They came over from Ireland in the 60's. I met them once back in 2003. Kiara had driven into the city to rescue me from the sweltering heat, lack of running water, and the 14 floors of stairs I had to climb in the dark with a flashlight to get to and leave my apt during the great blackout that year. Upon introducing myself to her mother she asked "what's your last name?". "Sherman" I replied. "Well, you're either a brit or a nazi, which is it?"

(Although I was a bit taken back initially, I was mostly charmed by her hilarious, forthright manner. I find both of her parents to be amiable, loving, and very, very funny people.)

Other excerpts from Tears of a Crocodile Clown:

Sick Days (early bouts with megalomania)

Tears of a Crocodile Clown. Early Ambitions: Science vs Art


Friday, March 12, 2010

Vulva: Vaginal Scented "Perfume"

I'm having trouble believing this is real. A company called Vivaeros makes a naturally scented (and flovored) "perfume" product called vulva. I'm no longer shocked or amused by anything. (Even when the guy in the video for this product smells the wet, sweaty cycling seat.)

Website: Smell Me And: Vulva

Vulva Video spot: on YouTube.





Tuesday, March 09, 2010

A Taxonomy of Bitches

I had conflicting thoughts about posting this. The form is actually very similar to Allen Ginsberg's list poem's format. Found on the floor of a 3rd grade classroom. There are 99 types of bitches in total. See the entire list on "I Am Not Lying". Unreal. Maybe faked. Inappropriate on some level but I embrace the inappropriate.

My favorite: 62) "Stain on your pants bitches".

My favorite





99 problems (but a bitch ain't one)




Monday, March 08, 2010

Best Portrait of Me (maybe ever)



Photography, Direction: Beth Jaffee
Mink stole: Her grandmothers
Sun glasses: Prada
Inspiration: a great bottle of wine
Smirk and swagger: mine

Tooth Decay

I took a pic of this rather dramatic quite smoking psa in an NYC bodega. The tooth to me just looks pulled, not necessarily rotten and decayed.



Sunday, March 07, 2010

All hail Kathryn Bigelow

A great movie, magnificently directed. Congratulations!



Kathryn Bigelow wikipedia entry.

Oscar 2010 Best Director: Kathryn Bigelow

Saturday, March 06, 2010

Fresh Coons!

No. It's not racist (not directly), and this photograph wasn't taken in the deep south. It was snapped in Detroit on the corner of Livernois & Warren.



My friend Dave called the number. Raccoons. They come in jumbo and regular. Call for yourself (the area code is 313).

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Reading Pictures: Raped & Left for Dead

My friend Kelly was commenting on the great number of images in this month's Vogue Magazine (March) where the model are posed lying about (actually quite common). Her observation though got me thinking about a narrative theme in fashion photography that I call "raped and left for dead". I seem to recall seeing this much more in the 90's that I do now. I couldn't actually find an example in this month's Vogue. There was a jeans ad circa 1991 that was a quintessential example and the ad that triggered my conscious recognition of this narrative. Unfortunately I can't find it. The examples here are a bit obvious, the more interesting are the ones subtle to the point that they register only in the subconscious mind of most viewers. A more extreme, related theme are "death fetish" images. These days I see many more images of models (male and female) that simply look "left spent".







I haven't seen a dominos / rube goldberg thing online is some time

But this is a good one.


Ok Go "This too shall pass"
(props to King Friday)

Monday, March 01, 2010

How to sell Xbox to teenage boys.



Via Copyranter via Kim.

Ads/videos like this really shouldn't surprise us anymore.

But that bottom, it's like a Hippity Hop for men 18 and up.

Photography: 2010 Winter Olympics



Amazing photgraphy from Boston.com's "Big Picture" section. Big thanks to King Friday for shooting me the link.