Pushing Pixels 5

I’m for hire! Got a business you need a poster or advertisement for? I charge from $100 to $150 USD for a poster sized arrangement of your five or six photographs and explanatory text. We can discuss printing options, in all cases, you get the original file to do as you see fit.

My email is thomasfarley@fastmail.com

I’m often out rockhounding beyond cellular coverage so, please, a little patience. I thank you in advance. Thomas

p.s. You can see these individual 24X36 inch posters in previous Pushing Pixel pages. Here, together, they are the Goldfield, Nevada series.



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Pushing Pixels Four





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Just Like Honey by The Jesus and Mary Chain

1985. We’re in an echo chamber with a Scottish band called The Jesus and Mary Chain. Life is good. Or, we’re watching the melancholy ending to Lost in Translation, with two different people returning to their different lives. After they saw What Might Have Been. And, now, What Will Never Be.


Lost in Translation Ending

The song begins at 1:48 but you should start at the start.

Lyrics

Listen to the girl
As she takes on half the world
Moving up and so alive
In her honey dripping beehive
Beehive
It’s good, so good, it’s so good
So good
Walking back to you
Is the hardest thing that
I can do
That I can do for you
For you
I’ll be your plastic toy
I’ll be your plastic toy
For you
Eating up the scum
Is the hardest thing for
Me to do

Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey
Just like honey

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: James McLeish Reid / William Adam Reid

The song begins at 1:48. Are you going to skip? Really?

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“Time Does Not Bring Relief; You All Have Lied” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

If life wasn’t built on lies there might not be much of a world at all.

“Life must go on; I forget just why.” Millay. More of her here (internal link)

By Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892 – 1950)

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go,—so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, “There is no memory of him here!”
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.

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How Many Lines Does it Take to Draw a Pretty Face?

Fewer than you think. Although they have to be the right lines.

Picasso was famous for simple line drawings of animals.

But drawing a human face is more complicated, correct? Ever tried? I have never gotten proportions right, a murderously difficult job.

This detail is from from Starwatcher II, a 1985 work of Möebius, Jean Giraud. It’s a beautiful face, in fact, Möebius said it was “wonderfully evocative” and he could “see how someone could fall in love with that face.” But why?

Giraud didn’t say if this was a man or a woman. Those arms belong to a major league football or rugby player. He admits the legs aren’t right, either. And despite the complexity of Star Gazer’s outfit, there’s an amazing economy of line to the face.


The eyes don’t seem right, however, upon close inspection. The pupils seem pointed in different directions. Yet, that doesn’t seem to matter from the viewing distance normally taken.

This reminds me of Bardot, who had faint lines to her face. No strongly developed aquiline nose or prominent cheekbones. Stargazer doesn’t have either. Maybe those are more Aryan preferences and not universal. Is there something to this?

Hmm. Picasso, Giraud, Bardot. All French. More later.

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Dusk in Pahrump, Nevada



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Pushing Pixels Three

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Pushing Pixels Part Two

 

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More Pushing Pixels


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The Ballad of the Thin Man by Bob Dylan

For all those who know what is going on but act like they don’t.

Ballad of a Thin Man

by Bob Dylan lyrics

You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked and you say, “Who is that man?”
You try so hard but you don’t understand
Just what you will say when you get home
Because something is happening here but you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

You raise up your head and you ask, “Is this where it is?”
And somebody points to you and says, “It’s his”
And you say, “What’s mine?” and somebody else says, “Well, what is?”
And you say, “Oh my God, am I here all alone?”
But something is happening and you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

You hand in your ticket and you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak
And says, “How does it feel to be such a freak?”
And you say, “Impossible!” as he hands you a bone
And something is happening here but you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

You have many contacts among the lumberjacks
To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect you to all give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations
Ah, you’ve been with the professors and they’ve all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks
You’ve been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s books
You’re very well-read, it’s well-known
But something is happening here and you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels
He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice, he asks you how it feels
And he says, “Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan”
And you know something is happening but you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

Now, you see this one-eyed ****** shouting the word “Now”
And you say, “For what reason?” and he says, “How”
And you say, “What does this mean?” and he screams back, “You’re a cow!
Give me some milk or else go home”
And you know something’s happening but you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

Well, you walk into the room like a camel, and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law against you comin’ around
You should be made to wear earphones
‘Cause something is happening and you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

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