View allAll Photos Tagged provocation
Capa watched from the curb. Doisneau stayed for the view.
Ying crossed the bridge like a provocation in heels.
Steel beneath her steps. Lace beneath her coat.
There was no turning back—only desire.
Framewritten by Charly & Ying
An interdimensional project by Ying.Ding.Studios · AI photography · 2025
If Any Man Thirst
"In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying, if any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink." [John 7:37]
Patience had her perfect work in the Lord Jesus, and until the last day of the feast he pleaded with the Jews, even as on this last day of the year he pleads with us, and waits to be gracious to us. Admirable indeed is the longsuffering of the Saviour in bearing with some of us year after year, notwithstanding our provocations, rebellions, and resistance of his Holy Spirit. Wonder of wonders that we are still in the land of mercy! Pity expressed herself most plainly, for Jesus cried, which implies not only the loudness of his voice, but the tenderness of his tones. He entreats us to be reconciled. “We pray you,” says the Apostle, “as though God did beseech you by us [read 2 Corinthians 5:20].” What earnest, pathetic terms are these! How deep must be the love which makes the Lord weep over sinners, and like a mother woo his children to his bosom! Surely at the call of such a cry our willing hearts will come. Provision is made most plenteously; all is provided that man can need to quench his soul’s thirst. To his conscience the atonement brings peace; to his understanding the gospel brings the richest instruction; to his heart the person of Jesus is the noblest object of affection; to the whole man the truth as it is in Jesus supplies the purest nutriment. Thirst is terrible, but Jesus can remove it. Though the soul were utterly famished, Jesus could restore it. Proclamation is made most freely, that every thirsty one is welcome. No other distinction is made but that of thirst. Whether it be the thirst of avarice, ambition, pleasure, knowledge, or rest, he who suffers from it is invited. The thirst may be bad in itself, and be no sign of grace, but rather a mark of inordinate sin longing to be gratified with deeper draughts of lust; but it is not goodness in the creature which brings him the invitation, the Lord Jesus sends it freely, and without respect of persons. Personality is declared most fully. The sinner must come to Jesus, not to works, ordinances, or doctrines, but to a personal Redeemer, who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree. The bleeding, dying, rising Saviour, is the only star of hope to a sinner. Oh for grace to come now and drink, ere the sun sets upon the year’s last day! No waiting or preparation is so much as hinted at. Drinking represents a reception for which no fitness is required. A fool, a thief, a harlot can drink; and so sinfulness of character is no bar to the invitation to believe in Jesus. We want no golden cup, no bejewelled chalice, in which to convey the water to the thirsty; the mouth of poverty is welcome to stoop down and quaff the flowing flood. Blistered, leprous, filthy lips may touch the stream of divine love; they cannot pollute it, but shall themselves be purified. Jesus is the fount of hope. Dear reader, hear the dear Redeemer’s loving voice as he cries to each of us, “IF ANY MAN THIRST, LET HIM COME UNTO ME AND DRINK.” Hallelujah, God bless
I needed something to make me laugh. I've been crying at the slightest provocation: travel channel specials, cereal commercials, and of course anything on Steve Irwin. I want to get better and take new pictures. Soon.
Street art is visual art created in public locations, usually unsanctioned artwork executed outside of the context of traditional art venues. The term gained popularity during the graffiti art boom of the early 1980s and continues to be applied to subsequent incarnations. Stencil graffiti, wheatpasted poster art or sticker art, and street installation or sculpture are common forms of modern street art. Video projection, yarn bombing and Lock On sculpture became popularized at the turn of the 21st century.
The terms "urban art", "guerrilla art", "post-graffiti" and "neo-graffiti" are also sometimes used when referring to artwork created in these contexts.[1] Traditional spray-painted graffiti artwork itself is often included in this category, excluding territorial graffiti or pure vandalism.
Street art is often motivated by a preference on the part of the artist to communicate directly with the public at large, free from perceived confines of the formal art world.[2] Street artists sometimes present socially relevant content infused with esthetic value, to attract attention to a cause or as a form of "art provocation".[3]
Street artists often travel between countries to spread their designs. Some artists have gained cult-followings, media and art world attention, and have gone on to work commercially in the styles which made their work known on the streets.
பன்னிருதிருமுறை விழா.
The Shaiva Tirumurais are twelve in number. The first seven Tirumurais are the hymns of the three great Shaivite saints, Sambandar, Appar and Sundarar. These hymns were the best musical compositions of their age.
The first three Tirumurais (meaning parts) of Tevaram are composed by Sambanthar, the next three by Appar and the seventh one is composed by Sundarar. There is a famous saying about the Saiva trio that "Appar sang for me, Sambanthar sang for himself and Sundarar sang of gold". Appar and Sambanthar lived around the 7th century, while Sundarar lived in the 8th century. During the Pallava period these three travelled extensively around Tamil Nadu offering discourses and songs characterised by an emotional devotion to Shiva and objections to Vaishnavism, Jainism and Buddhism.
Sambanthar is a 7th-century poet born in Sirkali in Brahmin community and was believed to be suckled by the goddess Parvathi, whereupon he sang the first hymn. On the request of queen of Pandya Nadu, Sambandar went on pilgrimage to south, defeated Jains in debate, the Jains' provocation of Sambandar by burning his house and challenging him to debate, and Sambandar's eventual victory over them He was a contemporary of Appar, another Saiva saint. Information about Sambandar comes mainly from the Periya Puranam, the eleventh-century Tamil book on the Nayanars that forms the last volume of the Tirumurai, along with the earlier Tiruttondartokai, poetry by Cuntarar and Nambiyandar Nambi's Tiru Tondar Tiruvandadi. A Sanskrit hagiography called Brahmapureesa Charitam is now lost. The first volumes of the Tirumurai contain three hundred and eighty-four poems of Campantar (in 4181 stanzas), all that survive out of a reputed more than 10,000 hymns. Sambanthar is believed to have died at the age of 16 in 655 CE on the day of his marriage. His verses were set to tune by Nilakantaperumalanar who is set to have accompanied the poet on his yal or lute.
Appar's (aka Tirunavukkarasar) was born in the middle of 7th century in Tiruvamur, Tamil Nadu, his childhood name for Marulneekiar. His sister, Thilagavathiar was betrothed to a military commander who died in action. When his sister was about to end her life, he pleaded with her not to leave him alone in the world. She decided to lead an aesthetic life and bring up her only brother. During boyhood, Appar was very much interested in Jainism and started studying its scriptures. He went away from home and stayed in their monastery and was renamed Darmasena. Details of Appar's life are found in his own hymns and in Sekkizhar's Periya Puranam (the last book of the Tirumurai). Appar had travelled to nearby Patalipura to join a Jain monastery where he was given the name Dharmasena. "Seeing the transient, ephemeral world he decided to probe into truth through renunciation." After a while, afflicted by a painful illness, Dharmasena returned home. He prayed for relief at the Siva temple where his sister served and was cured. He was also involved in converting the Pallava king, Mahendravarman to Saivism. This was also the period of resurrection of the smaller Shiva temples. Appar sanctified all these temples by his verses and was also involved in cleaning of the dilapidated temples called uzhavarapadai. He was called Tirunavukkarasu, meaning the "King of divine speech". He extolled Siva in 49,000 stanzas out of which 3130 are now available and compiled in Tirumurais 4-7. When he met Campantar, he called him Appar (meaning father). He is believed to have died at the age of 81 in Tirupugalur.
Sundarar (aka Sundaramurthi) was born in Tirunavalur in a Brahmin family during the end of 7th century. His own name was Nambi Arurar and was prevented from marrying by the divine grace of Siva. He later married a temple girl namely Paravi and a vellala community girl by name Cankili.[17] He is the author of 1026 poems compiled as 7th Tirumurai.
Manikkavasagar's Tiruvacakam and Tirukovayar are compiled as the eighth Tirumurai and is full of visionary experience, divine love and urgent striving for truth. Manickavasgar was the king's prime minister and renounced his post in search of divinity.
The ninth Tirumurai has been composed by Tirumalikaittever, Sundarar, Karuvurttevar, Nampikatava Nampi, Gandaraditya, Venattatikal, Tiruvaliyamutanar, Purutottama Nampi and Cetirayar. Among these the notable is Gandaraditya (950-957 CE), a Chola king who later turned a saivite saint.
Tirumandiram by Tirumular unfolds siddantha (attainment) as a fourfold path - virtous and moral living, temple worship, internal worship and union with Siva. Tirumular worked out an original philosophical system and southern scholl of Saiva siddantha draws its authority from Tirumandiram, a work of 3000 verses. Tirumandiram represents another school of thought detailing agamic traditions, which run parallel to the bhakthi movement. It does not glorify temples or deities as in the case of other Tirumurais.
The eleventh Tirumurai has been composed by Karaikkal Ammeiyar, Ceraman Perumal, Pattinattu p-pillaiyar, Nakkiratevar, Kapilateva, Tiruvalavaiyudaiyar, Nampiyantarnampi, Iyyadigal katavarkon, Kalladateva, Paranateva, Ellamperuman Adigal and Athirava Adigal. Nambi's Tirutottanar Tiruvanthathi followed an exclusive style of mincing Tamil and Sankrit verses in anthati meter similar to Tevaram of the trio. Karaikkal Ammaiyar (550-600 CE)is the earliest of the woman Saivite poets who introduced the kattalai-k-kali-t-turai meter, which is a complicated structural departure from the old classical Tamil meters. The other meter used by Ammaiyar was old venba and also antathi arrangement in which offset of one line or stanza is identical with the onset of next line or stanza.
Periya Puranam (Tamil:பெரிய புராணம்), the great purana or epic, sometimes also called Tiruttontarpuranam(read as "Tiru-Thondar-Puranam") (the purana of the holy devotees) is a Tamil poetic account depicting the legendary lives of the sixty-three Nayanars, the canonical poets of Tamil Shaivism. It was compiled during the 12th century by Sekkizhar. It provides evidence of trade with West Asia Sekkizhar compiled and wrote the Periya Puranam listing the life stories of the sixty-three Shaiva Nayanars, poets of the God Shiva) who composed the liturgical poems of the Tirumurai, and was later himself canonised and the work became part of the sacred canon. Sekkizhar was a poet and the chief minister in the court of the Chola King, Kulothunga Chola II.
Raja Raja Chola I (985-1013 CE) embarked on a mission to recover the hymns after hearing short excerpts of Tevaram in his court. He sought the help of Nambi Andar Nambi, who was a priest in a temple. It is believed that by divine intervention Nambi found the presence of scripts, in the form of cadijam leaves half eaten by white ants in a chamber inside the second precinct in Thillai Nataraja Temple, Chidambaram. The brahmanas (Dikshitars) in the temple opposed the mission, but Rajaraja intervened by consecrating the images of the saint-poets through the streets of Chidambaram.Rajaraja thus became to be known as Tirumurai Kanda Cholan meaning one who saved the Tirumurai. Thus far Shiva temples only had images of god forms, but after the advent of Rajaraja, the images of the Nayanar saints were also placed inside the temple. Nambi arranged the hymns of three saint poets Campantar, Appar and Sundarar as the first seven books, Manickavasagar's Tirukovayar and Tiruvacakam as the 8th book, the 28 hymns of nine other saints as the 9th book, the Tirumandiram of Tirumular as the 10th book, 40 hymns by 12 other poets as the 10th book, Tirutotanar Tiruvanthathi - the sacred anthathi of the labours of the 63 nayanar saints and added his own hymns as the 11th book. The first seven books were later called as Tevaram, and the whole Saiva canon, to which was added, as the 12th book, Sekkizhar's Periya Puranam (1135 CE) is wholly known as Tirumurai, the holy book. Thus Saiva literature which covers about 600 years of religious, philosophical and literary development.
For more general information : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tirumurai
Miley Cyrus:
A new provocation on the part of Miley Cyrus. The singer is shown naked, a new woman, on Instagram, to the delight of her fans.
The days pass and look for Miley Cyrus. A few hours ago that sings Can Can’t Be Tamed is shown topless on Instagram. No makeup, but most importantly, ...
Taken in the Plaza de San Francisco, with the massive church in the background. The pigeons shown here had been fluttering and flying into the sky with the slightest provocation … but when they saw that food might be available, they settled down and gathered around the young woman seen here...
This is a second set of a couple hundred photos taken in Havana, Cuba in December 2011. The first set, which included what I felt were the best 100 photos of the 3500+ images, was uploaded earlier. You can find it here on Flickr.
Note: I chose this, among the five photos that I uploaded to Flickr on the morning of Jan 7, 2012, as my "photo of the day." What can I say -- I'm a sucker for pictures of people feeding pigeons. :)
***********************
As I suggested in my first set of Cuba photos on Flickr, the notion of traveling to Cuba is -- at least for many Americans today -- probably like that of traveling to North Korea. It's off-limits, forbidden by the government -- and frankly, why would anyone bother? But for someone like me, who spent his childhood in the Cold War era of the 1950s, and who went off to college just after Castro took power, and just before the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban missile crisis, the notion of traveling to Cuba has entirely different overtones.
And yet Cuba is only 90 miles away from Key West (as we were reminded so often in the 1960s), and its climate is presumably no different than a dozen of Caribbean islands I've visited over the years. Numerous friends have made quasi-legal trips to Cuba over the years, flying in from Canada or Mexico, and they've all returned with fabulous pictures and great stories of a vibrant, colorful country. So, when the folks at the Santa Fe Photographic Workshops sent out a notice in November 2011, announcing a series of photo workshops in Havana, we couldn't resist the temptation to sign up.
Getting into Cuba turned out to be trivial: an overnight stay in Miami, a 45-minute chartered flight operated by American Airlines, and customs/immigration formalities that turned out to be cursory or non-existent. By mid-afternoon, our group was checked into the Parque Central Hotel in downtown Havana -- where the rooms were spacious, the service was friendly, the food was reasonably tasty, the rum was delicious, and the Internet was … well, slow and expensive.
We had been warned that that some of our American conveniences -- like credit cards -- would not be available, and we were prepared for a fairly spartan week. But no matter how prepared we might have been intellectually, it takes a while to adjust to a land with no Skype, no Blackberry service, no iPhone service, no phone-based Twitter, Facebook, or Google+. I was perfectly happy that there were no Burger Kings, no Pizza Huts, no Wendys, no Starbuck's, and MacDonalds. There was Coke (classic), but no Diet Coke (or Coke Light). There were also no police sirens, no ambulance sirens, and no church bells. There were no iPods, and consequently no evidence of people plugged into their music via the thin white earplugs that Apple supplies with their devices. No iPads, no Kindles, no Nooks, no … well, you get the picture. (It's also worth noting that, with U.S. tourists now beginning to enter the country in larger numbers, Cuba seems to be on the cusp of a "modern" invasion; if I come back here in a couple years, I fully expect to see Kentucky Fried Chicken outlets on every corner.)
But there were lots of friendly people in Havana, crowding the streets, peering out of windows and doorways, laughing and shouting and waving at friends and strangers alike. Everyone was well-dressed in clean clothes (the evidence of which could be seen in the endless lines of clothing hanging from laundry lines strung from wall to wall, everywhere); but there were no designer jeans, no fancy shoes, no heavy jewelry, and no sign of ostentatious clothing of any kind. Like some other developing countries, the people were sometimes a little too friendly -- constantly offering a taxi ride, a pedicab ride, a small exchange of the "official" currency (convertible pesos, or "cuqs") for the "local" currency (pesos), a great meal or a great drink at a nearby restaurant or bar, a haircut, a manicure, or just a little … umm, well, friendship (offers for which ran the gamut of "señor" to "amigo" to "my friend"). On the street, you often felt you were in the land of the hustle; but if you smiled, shook your head, and politely said, "no," people generally smiled and back off.
As for the photography: well, I was in one of three different workshop groups, each of which had roughly a dozen participants. The three dozen individual photographers were well equipped with all of the latest Nikon and Canon gear, and they generally focused on a handful of subjects: buildings and architecture, ballet practice sessions, cockfights, boxing matches, rodeos, fishing villages, old cars, interiors of people's homes, street scenes, and people. Lots of people. As in every other part of the world I've visited, the people were the most interesting. We saw young and old, men and women, boisterous children, grizzled elders, police officers, bus drivers, and people of almost every conceivable race.
The streets were clean, though not spotless; and the streets were jammed, with bicycles and motorbikes and pedi-cabs, taxis, buses, horse-and-carriages, pedestrians, dogs (lots of dogs, many sleeping peacefully in the middle of a sidewalk), and even a few people on roller skates. And, as anyone who has seen photos of Havana knows, there were lots and lots and LOTS of old cars. Plymouths, Pontiacs, Dodges, Buicks, and Chevys, along with the occasional Cadillac. A few were old and rusted, but most had been renovated, repaired, and repainted -- often in garishly bright colors from every spectrum of the rainbow. Cherry pink, fire-engine red, Sunkist orange, lime green, turquoise and every shade of blue, orange, brown, and a lot more that I've probably forgotten. All of us in the photo workshop succumbed to the temptation to photograph the cars when we first arrived … but they were everywhere, every day, wherever we went, and eventually we all suffered from sensory overload. (For what it's worth, one of our workshop colleagues had visited Cuba eight years ago, and told us that at the time, there were only old cars in sight; now roughly half of the cars are more-or-less modern Kia's, Audis, Russian Ladas, and other "generic" compact cars.)
The one thing I wasn't prepared for in Havana was the sense of decay: almost no modern buildings, no skyscrapers, and very little evidence of renovation. There were several monstrous, ugly, vintage-1950s buildings that oozed "Russia" from every pore. But the rest of the buildings date back to the 40s, the 30s, the 20s, or even the turn of the last century. Some were crumbling, some were just facades; some showed evidence of the kind of salt-water erosion that one sees near the ocean. But many simply looked old and decrepit, with peeling paint and broken stones, like the run-down buildings in whatever slum you're familiar with in North America. One has a very strong sense of a city that was vibrant and beautiful all during the last half of the 19th century, and the first half of the 20th century -- and then time stopped dead in its tracks.
Why that happened, and what's being done about it, is something I didn't have a chance to explore; there was a general reluctance to discuss politics in great detail. Some of Havana looks like the less-prosperous regions of other Caribbean towns; and some of it is presumably the direct and/or indirect result of a half-century of U.S. embargo. But some of it seems to be the result of the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, and the subsequent collapse of foreign aid that Cuba depended upon.
As for my own photos: I did not attend the ballet practice sessions, nor did I see the rodeo. I did see some interesting graffiti on a few walls, which I photographed; but for some reason, I missed almost all of the numerous political billboards and stylized paintings of Che Guevera on buildings and walls. What I focused on instead was the "street scenes" of people and buildings and cars, which will hopefully give you a sense of what the place is like.
Enjoy!
Nikon D3200 with AF-S Nikkor 70-300mm f/4.5-5.6 VR lens.
Settings: Manual, S1250, F5.6, ISO720, 250mm.
Photoshop workflow: crop & size image (resizing using Genuine Fractals plugin), reduce noise filter (photoshop native), levels adjustments (photoshop native), auto contrast (photoshop native). Final image: 1200x800.
*** This picture was taken without provocation in any way, shape or form. ***
Not a real a quality photograph but thought it might be interesting.
Ieder roodborstje heeft zijn eigen territorium, waarin geen soortgenoot toegelaten wordt. Hij verzekert zich zo van een eigen voedselvoorraad. Hij of zij, want ook vrouwtjes houden er een eigen territorium op na. In de winter zingen zowel de mannetjes als de vrouwtjes. Maar in het voorjaar als de broedtijd aanbreekt, stoppen de vrouwtjes met zingen. Ze worden dan aangelokt door een zingend mannetje, en zoeken voorzichtig toenadering. Aanvankelijk reageert het mannetje aanvallend en steekt zijn rode borst vooruit. Het vrouwtje reageert nu echter anders dan een concurrerend mannetje zou doen. Ze neemt een onderdanige houding aan, waarna het mannetje haar geleidelijkaan in zijn territorium toelaat. Nadat ze samen jongen grootgebracht hebben, gaan ze weer elk hun eigen weg.
Een roodborst mannetje zal een andere mannetje dat in zijn territorium komt aanvallen. Uit onderzoek blijkt dat de werkelijk prikkel (sleutelprikkel) de rode borstvlek is: hij reageert wel op een bosje rode veren, maar niet op een mannetje zonder rode borstvlek.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Male Robins are noted for their highly aggressive territorial behaviour. They will attack other males that stray into their territories, and have been observed attacking other small birds without apparent provocation. Such attacks sometimes lead to fatalities, accounting for up to 10% of adult Robin deaths in some areas.
Bron: Wikipedia
August Macke (1887 à Meschede – 1914 près de Perthes-lès-Hurlus, Champagne, FR) illustre par son œuvre la curiosité d'une jeune génération d'artistes qui, en divers lieux d'Europe, puis d'Amérique, s'engagent dans l'établissement d'une nouvelle perception du monde et d'un nouveau sens de la vie – voire, dans bien des cas, dans la provocation par des scandales délibérément mis en scène :
« Tout cela », écrit Macke en 1913 dans une lettre à un ami, « le cubisme, le futurisme, l'expressionnisme et la peinture abstraite ne sont que les termes d'un changement de direction que notre pensée picturale veut opérer et opère.»
Ses œuvres se caractérisent par la vitalité et la sensualité de la vie.
Cela se reflète dans la force et la beauté des couleurs, qui dépassent souvent les formes picturales individuelles et intérieures pour envahir l'ensemble du tableau. Sans adhérer rigidement à un manifeste artistique ni radicaliser unilatéralement son langage visuel, August Macke reste ouvert à de nombreuses influences et stimulations dans sa pensée artistique, tout en créant une œuvre indépendante qui offre une synthèse exemplaire des caractéristiques spécifiques de l'expressionnisme rhénan. Son regard se tourne ainsi vers l'Occident : vers la France, vers Paris où, dans les œuvres de Robert Delaunay, il estime avoir trouvé une âme sœur.
Avec des peintures, des sculptures et des gravures, la vaste collection Macke du Kunstmuseum Bonn comprend des œuvres de toutes les phases de la création de l'artiste.
August Macke (1887 in Meschede – 1914 near Perthes-lès-Hurlus, Champagne, FR) illustrates through his work the curiosity of a young generation of artists who, in various parts of Europe and later America, were committed to establishing a new perception of the world and a new meaning of life—in many cases, even to provocation through deliberately staged scandals:
"All this," Macke wrote in a 1913 letter to a friend, "Cubism, Futurism, Expressionism, and abstract painting are merely the terms of a change of direction that our pictorial thinking seeks to bring about and does bring about."
His works are characterized by the vitality and sensuality of life.
This is reflected in the strength and beauty of the colors, which often transcend individual, inner pictorial forms to invade the entire picture. Without rigidly adhering to an artistic manifesto or unilaterally radicalizing his visual language, August Macke remained open to numerous influences and stimuli in his artistic thinking, while creating an independent body of work that offers an exemplary synthesis of the specific characteristics of Rhenish Expressionism. His gaze thus turned toward the West: toward France, toward Paris, where, in the works of Robert Delaunay, he felt he had found a kindred spirit.
With paintings, sculptures, and prints, the Kunstmuseum Bonn's extensive Macke Collection includes works from all phases of the artist's creative process.
Story by o3boR
…Questa volta era tornata a casa senza cambiarsi. Spiegò ai bambini di aver comprato l’impermeabile tornando a casa. Preparò loro la cena e li mise a letto, solo dopo andò in bagno a lavarsi.
Seduta nella vasca ricominciò a sentire l’odore.
I bambini dormivano, in cucina la televisione gracchiava inutili programmi elettorali di seconda serata.
Le venne in mente la storia di una sua cugina, licenziata da un’agenzia di servizi perché innamoratasi follemente del capoufficio.
Che guaio quando si mischiano sentimenti e lavoro, pensò.
A lei era andata meglio di sua cugina, aveva potuto risolvere tutto con un taglio netto.
Le rimaneva solo l’odore…
Dalla cucina risuonavano le offese che rispettabili uomini di stato si scambiavano l’un l’altro.
Nel silenzio delle parole vuote della classe dirigente, la sua mano partì…
E con un piccolo brivido del cuore, assaggiò per l’ultima volta l’odore che aveva abbandonato il corpo esanime del suo uomo.
L’indomani avrebbe dovuto indossare la parrucca rossa…
Editor-in-Chief : Damian Ward Hey
Literary Editors : Orchid Tierney, Almée Herman & Daniel Dissinger
Art Editors : A.J. Grunthaler
Managing Editor : Michael S. Russo
jef safi's contribution :
- p.128..129, My monadology
__________________________________
and/or is a journal for creative experimental writing and/or innovative graphic art. The journal seeks submissions from writers and/or other sorts of artists whose work openly challenges the boundaries (mimetic, aesthetic, symbolic, cultural, political, philosophical, economic, spiritual, etc.) of literary and/or artistic expression. For more information about this publication, or to submit work for consideration for future volumes, contact us at andandor@live.com.
__________________________________
rectO-persO | E ≥ m.C² | co~errAnce | TiLt