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got my sample blurb book in the mail today. the printing kind of kills all the blacks and shadow detail but other than that i'm impressed. a few tweaks and i'll print up a bulk order for sending to magazines, art directors, and if you're lucky, you!
Much delayed, I've made my book, darkness & light - a collection of 109 of my 366 days self-portraits - available again on Blurb.
A friend of mine who missed buying it when it was first available asked me about it. I don't even know how long ago now. On the back of that, I've finally made it available for a while again.
How long it will be available is yet to be seen. But if you didn't snap up a copy (or didn't know about it) back in 2008, now is your chance to be one of a limited number of folk to have your sweaty palms on a copy.
Because it's print on demand, signed copies are complicated but not impossible, if you want that. DM me or email me at propaganda@bronwenhyde.com if this takes your fancy, and we can work out the logistics.
This is an outtake from the project I edited last week, almost 14 years later.
The final image for the project for this day was a diptych entitled peeping tom, inspired by the 1960 Michael Powell film of the same name. It was a brilliantly creepy film, so well made, and tapped into my love of photography and psychological thrillers/horrors.
Recently, I've been sharing some never before published fiction exclusively for my Patreon patrons, and I'm planning more posts for tiers at 'the perfect 10' and above soon, so now's a good time to become a patron.
Noto
CD :
Noto
∞
Noton . Archiv Für Ton Und Nichtton 06 CD
Rastermusic CDR008
Sounds & Design . Carsten Nicolai
Soundproject For Documenta X . Kassel . 1997
Use Hearing Protection
GMA
High-res E-Mags of my work now available for sale at antihero.company.site
and my site at www.toddfollett.com
Any support is massively appreciated!
My book „Urban Fever – Scenes from city life“ has 112 pages. Here are a few of them. In two weeks it will be complete, in hardcover, printed offset on beautiful paper. I’m very happy about the pre-orders, so you should decide now whether to take the normal edition – or the special edition with two beautiful fine art prints of my photographs, 30x20 cm, on Hahnemühle Rag paper. The book will only be available on my website and in a few selected shops!
Unexpected memories Volume 4 is a book which collects the images that the author, Fabrizio Zago, took with his smartphone and edited with Instagram during the year 2015.
As the book title says, the images are not the result of a planned shooting session but are simple snapshots taken spontaneously, unexpected, but that are now part of the author’s memories.
Click here for the book preview
Book video/trailer: Unexpected memories - Volume 4
© January 2016 Fabrizio Zago - All rights reserved
Facebook | Instagram | My official website www.fabriziozago.com
My photobook, Unexpected memories - Volume 3
My photobook, Some days in Hamburg
My photobook, Some days in Copenhagen
My photobook, United States Coast to Coast
Fabrizio Zago
© All rights reserved
The "Gun's Up!" book attracted quite a bit of interest from rowers at the weekend's surf rowing carnival at Mullaloo Beach. Pictured here re Mullaloo boaties having a squizz at the book.
Unexpected memories Volume 3 is a book which collects the images that the author, Fabrizio Zago, took with his smartphone and edited with Instagram during the year 2014.
As the book title says, the images are not the result of a planned shooting session but are simple snapshots taken spontaneously, unexpected, but that are now part of the author’s memories.
Click here for the book preview
© January 2015 Fabrizio Zago - All rights reserved
Facebook | Instagram | My official website www.fabriziozago.com
My photobook, Unexpected memories - Volume 3
My photobook, Some days in Hamburg
My photobook, Some days in Copenhagen
My photobook, United States Coast to Coast
Fabrizio Zago
© All rights reserved
a zine i made in 2009 with my friend katie haegele (www.thelalatheory.com)
katie did the words, i did the pictures
The isalnd is made of crumpled paper
the black birds are real
scatterd specks on the would be sand
they roost in the tower
where the bell tolls
the water is plastic vials
filled with tears
caught in a perpetual crash
There is no sun
Yet still there is light
I and the birds lament
are so similar
that I mistake one for the other
After publishing 7 issues of my digital magazine and working with a large publisher on my first book, I have just completed my first "self published" book.
It's called The Art of Soap and is 108 pages of incredible soap photography and stories written by the soap makers themselves. To learn more about it and get a copy (available mid-October), go to www.artofsoap.com. If you love design, photography, crafts, or soap, this book is for you! :)
NIENTE, DI NUOVO, SOTTO IL SOLE - LA MIA ALCATRAZ
ilmiolibro.kataweb.it/libro/narrativa/125224/niente-di-nu...
"Osservare la mia Alcatraz voltata di spalle le toglie, in minima parte, l’imponenza e la supremazia che quotidianamente esercita sulla mia anima prigioniera e sconsolata. Purtroppo c’è davvero poco da discutere ma gran parte del mio irrecuperabile tempo lo trascorro là dentro a recitare per telefono copioni preconfezionati a persone tutte uguali, le quali già conoscono la risposta che vorrebbero sentirsi dare. Cercano inconsapevolmente dietro ad ogni problema, svago, diverbio e tant’altro un motivo per non soffermarsi sui propri passi, sui propri battiti di ciglia, sulle parole dette e ascoltate, sulla certezza irrevocabile che tutto quello che esse sono e che hanno sia rigidamente razionato, conteggiato allo stesso modo appunto per i prigionieri delle carceri, come me. Prigioniero è appunto solo chi consapevole della propria prigionia; tutti imprigionati, pochi prigionieri."
Cliccate il seguente link per acquistare il libro e recensirlo, disponibile in versione cartacea e ebook. Potrete anche supportarlo al concorso ILMIOESORDIO sulla piattaforma ILMIOLIBRO:
IL MIO BLOG: sirpavolo.blogspot.co.uk/
#book #ilmiolibro #infinite #infinito #lettura #libro #nientedinuovosottoilsole #NNSS #nulla #paologullì #photo #reading #scrittore #scrittura #selfpublishing #writer #writing #tempo #clessidra #ora
Goddesses from my book
Goddess Luv!!! I painted over 36 goddesses during a month of channeling the moon when it was in each sign of the zodiac. I also wrote poetry and researched goddess myths for my book because at that time it was mainly gods that were being talked about in astrology and I...
36 pages A7 Trade or 1€ + postage (France 0,60€ ; Europe 0,80€ ; World 0,90€)
contact: gaiihin.nkvmr9(at)gmail(plot)com
A zine featuring interviews with & portraits of residents of Chicago, IL & San Jose, CA discussing what gives them worth.
check out the cover of my new book. release party on fri 22.02.2019 @enfantsartspace.
Check the FB event:
The Lovebirds are one of my fav illustrations I did 2013 so add them to business cards www.moo.com/share/799srz/
Okay, this post has nothing to do with a disco planet -- this is a home-made little bitty disco ball my wife made some eons ago.
The point of this post is to announce a little something new --
Jet Pack.
[ www.jet-pack.net ]
What is Jet Pack? Well, I encourage you to bop on over to the site to check it out, but in brief: fiction, and fiction-related deliciousness, all done under a self-publishing model (aka "The Dirty Model").
The site is home to some of my work (and will be home to more of it), as well as home to the work of two other writers, Will Hindmarch and Wood Ingham.
So, go. Check it out. Breathe in the heady fumes of the Jet Pack's roaring engines. Suck in the vapors. Learn to love the Jet Pack.
[ www.jet-pack.net ]
Photography & desing by Zoltan Enevold
Colour, 20 pages, 15 images, stapled, soft cover
8" x 8" (20 x 20 cm)
20 copies (Self-published)
Little illo mixed media, pen n ink, pencil and watercolour, digitally finished
Also a greeting card etsy.me/1s2CRNX KID24 Summer Summertime
Nyha Cards Multicultral Greeting Cards
Mistletoe and Wine card design etsy.me/1dkZbqC
1 of 6 in my cute and fun range of crimbo cards available in my store.
Feel free to pop by and say hi www.facebook.com/nyhagraphics
by Vaughn Bodé. New York, Dell Publishing, september 1973.
from selfpublishing & "underground" comics to paperback publication is quite the leap but here it is, black & white reproductions of his strips from Cavalier magazine in an uncommon arrangement of one large frame per page.
Mi guardo attorno, non sono più nel mio ufficio, non sono neanche nell’edificio, sono in un campo all’aperto. Mi inginocchio, mi ripiego su me stesso, vorrei piangere, chiudo gli occhi perché spero di svegliarmi da quest’incubo. Il vento però continua a soffiare, fischiettando motivi anomali tra gli arbusti, il prato secco e le pietre. «Libero dal giogo della morte, al di sopra del ricatto della vita, il vero padrone di sé stesso, il genuino contenuto dell’universo, eccolo lì che piange come un bambino» La voce di lei, la voce di lui nelle cuffie che sto ancora indossando, all’unisono intonano queste lodi beffarde e blasfeme.
Tolgo le cuffie e le scaravento su una roccia li vicino mandandole in pezzi. Aydìa, come se niente fosse, prosegue col vaneggiamento. «Alza lo sguardo, il sole è sopra di te, incombe superbo e bugiardo sulle tue disgrazie senza fine, senza inizio, eterne. Viene e va il falso paladino della nascita, ti trova sempre lì senza nulla di nuovo da osservare, ancora. Oggi però la stella nana è testimone di una inconsueta manifestazione del niente. Certo, questo è un libro, certo, questa è una storia, certo, questo è inchiostro, certo, questa è carta, certo, questa è benzina, certo, questa non è una pipa, certo, questa è una citazione. Tutto questo è vecchio, nulla è nuovo. Infatti per te non sarà una rivincita, solo una stramba replica della tua sconfitta, sconfitta inconsueta però»
ilmiolibro.kataweb.it/libro/narrativa/125224/niente-di-nu...
I got the test print for my book order yesterday and it looks amazing! I am very excited to see my body art series displayed in my first ever self published book. I should have 50 copies available for purchase in a week. I will put them up for sale in my etsy shop( see link in my profile) and i am having an art opening in December where i will be doing a book signing.
art show: T.Ruth artspace in portland oregon Dec 16th( www.truthartspace.com/future.html )
blogged here: lucidrose.blogspot.com/2010/11/goddess-in-all-of-us-first...
Objective Non Narrative Issue #8.
No longer on hiatus!
5.25 x 7.875 in
Edition of 100
24 pages black and white
photo curtesy of silvanie
I did a reprint of my business cards and added a few new illustrations to the designs. I use moo use link for 10% off www.moo.com/share/799srz/
Arthur was afraid and angry...
He felt the thought wight crawling about in his subconscious: a daymare. Human eyes and box lantern teeth. It's searching for the thin place, the flimsy floor board to consciousness.Long stem red roses grew like hair from its bald head: a bloody crown.
It whispered amid Arthur's butter knives and bottle caps echoing in a maze of metal. „In the maze, it's in the maze.“ It stood there for a moment, gazed upward and smiled its teeth giving light to the label-less caps on the ceiling. Then it walked on calloused soles sounding off the uneven flooring.
Arthur's thoughts raged „if it finds the blue room...I'm finished.“ „Blue“ it whispered like your sky. No not sky more like ….sapphire... „yes down, not up.“ The butter knives changed into butterflies and the wight fell grinning, glowing downwards. The Minds mine Arthur thought and laughed/ cried at the unfortunate revelation.. as the thought wight fell nearer to the blue room. „Closer“ it whispered as it tumbled around butterflies and bottle flies-- flitting in yellows and greens toward the blue.
The thought wight fell on the consciousness, turning the blue room grey. Cold detached intelligence flooded into Arthur. The crystalline structure was gone replaced by steel, box lantern chandeliers hung from the ceiling and red roses sprung from a table that had grown from the floor.
Arthur's blue eyes had turned grey he knew who he had been before that. He had been weak and cowardly, but it didn't matter. The only thing that matters is knowledge, control and blood. Some assassins are born with the it instinctively others are made. Arthur had been chosen.
The Bottle flies and Butterflies coalesced first into a dress and then a woman the first stage of a champion reborn is complete. The steel as been accepted and it is acceptable. She a humanoid winged thing stealing the colors of her lesser self the shocking green, the orange wings with black edging.
“The thought wight has lost himself. Combined with the human as we knew he would. He is no longer a threat. The time of the slow turning in the world of dreams and day dreams is upon us.
The thought wight unknowingly helped my cause, but you my subjects will lose yourself in him knowingly. It is a brave a terrible thing that you do. She called one to her. Give him a semblance of a soul daughter. Let him once again feel and have compassion. The young-ling righted herself and scurried off to help, to die. “
Arthur was really good at killing: quick and efficient. Knife thrusts through the brain little mess, no screaming and the pay was spot on. He started by killing off his competition. In days he was most asked for.
He liked the muted grey he wore. The tailored suit with its English cut provided the bravado and the freedom of movement he required. He was under the impression that inhuming was an art that required a self-possessed elegance and the color matched his eyes beautifully.
Since he met Tabi in is dreams he felt far from elegant, in fact he felt soiled and banal next to this vision of light. She spoke softly to him of goodness of promises and duties, she spoke truths to him that if one day, if he listened that they would be one. Killing or any of his mundane activities in the waking world were shadows compared to the lucid Tabi. He stopped killing, just stopped. He didn't answer his phone or check his email. He was beyond that now, he wanted to be with Tabi with her smile, her ways, her life. She brought out goodness and rightness in him. Chivalry; he would protect her... and then it happened he felt, heard her slip inside. a good chill running down his back, a summer storm.
Tabi Felt herself go. She screamed then ceased being. All of her ilk heard that scream, it cut, cut deep.
She called Ob to her of the black and grey. Favorite among her kind for he spoke little and when he did it meant something. “Teach him to think.” She spoke in a whisper then left the throne room crying. Ob lowered his weight and floated to him and beat Arthur (who stole Tabi from them) till he let him in. The pain was so intense, so exact. He knew where to hit him. Arthur felt like a boy. He had been a killer after all. How could someone hurt him so with such … artistry. Eventually he had been knocked out cold. His subconscious had let in the intruder and the pain subsided and awareness rushed upon him. As he awoke all the randomness was gone replaced by straight lines and perfect circles. His thoughts ordered. The grey had become just another book in the shelf of his mind.
The Queen smiled and tears rained down her cheeks as Ob's steady flame went out.
Arthur knew that for all his restraint and wisdom the day-mare was still there . The monster that had killed for money, The madness of lanterns and roses still resided. It granted him the cold calculation, the wherewithal to strike: a killer's instinct. It hadn't gone away. It was just... tempered.
After some months the queen came to him in a dream of white-marble and silk. The beauty of the scene scared him more than than the daymare. A foreign beauty not unlike a lightning flash, so lovely as it cuts the sky branching. She unspoke to him in rhymes and colors, but he understood. He was being given a station: her champion, her sword, her angel.
When she came to him. He unwillingly absorbed her. He felt nothing: a distinct, distant absence. With the others there had been a radical change but with her nothing. Two days after throne-fall, the world of the dreams both day and night attacked him with force.
Bucket head man-like creatures with their tinny howls amplified in those horrid buckets of emptiness. He thought he was going to die but Roses and lanterns saved him, for he grew cold and started killing... no restraint needed.
Soon after he embraced the cold thorns sprouted from his palms. The two thorns were thick, pointed and terribly long. Then the cold was joined by Ob the grey and a deep meditation. His eyes closed and he passed through stone seeking after the source. He felt her hatred. He passed and killed till he reached her: the witch. The queen is gone why do you struggle so? she asked. Tabi was with him then whispered in his own mind's voice “ for the queen” and he said with a surety uncompromising “she is detained, I have been called here to face you.” She threw herself at him, but he passed through her. He turned around and buried the thorns deep.
She didn't die and She cut his head off clean off. He picked up his head roses growing from it to give him a hand hold. He turned and walked away. The queen's seed had been planted in the witch it will burst its host in five minutes. His work done...long live the queen.
2006 – 2009
Compilação com os primeiros 7 números originais do Zine Parasita. Disponível em uma edição limitada de 05 exemplares, que serão escondidos em São Paulo durante o mês de Junho/2010. // Compilation of the first 7 issues of the Parasite Zine. Limited edition of 05 books, which will be hidden in São Paulo during the month of June/2010.
I just self-published my first photo book (photos of the Grand Teton NP). You can see a full screen preview of it at my blog, Your Photo Vision. Since this is a blog read by photographers and wanna-be photographers, I also discuss the advantages and pitfalls to self-publishing through the new print-on-demand (POD) format. I'd love to hear your comments.
Talk Is Cheap, Vol. 9, No. 1, 1987. This radical/alternative newspaper was published in Philadelphia. The cover art comments on the then recent bombing by the police of the group M.O.V.E.’s house on Osage Avenue.
Razor’s Edge #2, 1989. Published by Kalki Dasa, Brooklyn, NY. This ‘zine is a relic from the period where Krishna culture began to permeate the east coast hardcore scene via bands like Youth of Today (followed by Shelter) and the Cro-Mags. A real low point in the history of underground music, in my opinion!
I just got this great 72-page b/w zine in the mail today. It features tons of NYC tags on doors. Order info here... www.flickr.com/photos/sabeth718/6344149745/