Cigar Girl

Hello Dollink

Porcelain Skin

Book Passages Series #03: Please leave feedback, any and all is appreciated. Please vote on your favorite of the three images, the poll is found in the top right corner of the blog.

Excerpt from Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Toilets in modern water closets rise up from the floor like white water lilies. The architect does all he can to make the body forget how paltry it is, and to make man ignore what happens to his intestinal wastes after the water from the tank flushes them down the drain. Even though the sewer pipelines reach far into our houses with their tentacles, they are carefully hidden from view, and we are happily ignorant of the invisible Venice of shit underlying our bathrooms, bedrooms, dance halls, and parliaments. submitted by Frieda Babbley

If you are new to this blog and are interested in the origins of this Book Passages series please visit my first post "What have you read lately?"

If you are interested in contributing to this visual journey please submit a book passage with title and author in the comment section or email me. Thanks!

Travels in the Scriptorium by Paul Auster

I would like to thank everyone who has contributed to this visual journey. I hope I will continue to receive submissions from you as the journey continues. Here are the images from Travels in the Scriptorium. Please take the time to vote on your favorite image and offer constructive criticism on any of the images. My professors used to rip my prints in half if they didn't like them so I can take it, you won't hurt my feelings.

The old man sits on the edge of the narrow bed, palms spread out on his knees, head down, staring at the floor. He has no idea that a camera is planted in the ceiling directly above him. The shutter clicks silently once every second, producing eighty-six thousand four hundred still photos with each revolution of the earth. Even if he knew he was being watched, it wouldn't make any difference. His mind is elsewhere, stranded among the figments in his head as he searches for an answer to the question that haunts him.

Who is he? What is he doing here? When did he arrive and how long will he remain? With any luck, time will tell us all. For the moment, our only task is to study the pictures as attentively as we can and refrain from drawing any premature conclusions.

There are a number of objects in the room, and on each one a strip of white tape has been affixed to the surface, bearing a single word written out in block letters. On the lamp, the word is LAMP. Even on the wall, which is not strictly speaking an object, there is a strip of tape that reads WALL. The old man looks up for a moment, sees the wall, sees the strip of tape attached to the wall, and pronounces the word wall in a soft voice. What cannot be known at this point is whether he is reading the word on the strip of tape or simply referring to the wall itself. It could be that he has forgotten how to read but still recognizes things for what they are and can call them by their names, or, conversely, that he has lost the ability to recognize things for what they are but still knows how to read.

I will try and do images in the order that the submissions came in. Next up is a contribution from Tea. She wrote "I'm reading Defining the Wind by Scott Huler - it's about the Beaufort Scale, so my descriptive passage is the Beaufort Scale itself: http://www.merriam-webster.com/table/dict/beaufort.htm. I need a model for this idea so I will hopefully find one and be able to still shoot and post by next week. I have a call into Bob Dylan's agent, hopefully he will call back soon?

What Have You Read Lately?

I am interested in starting a new fine art photography series in which I interpret a great paragraph from a book. One that is descriptive, mysterious, or ambiguous. I am hoping that I will get enough contributions from both my friends and curious strangers that I can create this fascinating visual journey. I will share my new images here on the blog as they are created. If time permits I would like to share one new image per week. If you contribute a paragraph please include the book title and the author. I look forward to your contributions. I will launch the series with this book excerpt.

Travels in the Scriptorium by Paul Auster

The old man sits on the edge of the narrow bed, palms spread out on his knees, head down, staring at the floor. He has no idea that a camera is planted in the ceiling directly above him. The shutter clicks silently once every second, producing eighty-six thousand four hundred still photos with each revolution of the earth. Even if he knew he was being watched, it wouldn't make any difference. His mind is elsewhere, stranded among the figments in his head as he searches for an answer to the question that haunts him.

Who is he? What is he doing here? When did he arrive and how long will he remain? With any luck, time will tell us all. For the moment, our only task is to study the pictures as attentively as we can and refrain from drawing any premature conclusions.

There are a number of objects in the room, and on each one a strip of white tape has been affixed to the surface, bearing a single word written out in block letters. On the lamp, the word is LAMP. Even on the wall, which is not strictly speaking an object, there is a strip of tape that reads WALL. The old man looks up for a moment, sees the wall, sees the strip of tape attached to the wall, and pronounces the word wall in a soft voice. What cannot be known at this point is whether he is reading the word on the strip of tape or simply referring to the wall itself. It could be that he has forgotten how to read but still recognizes things for what they are and can call them by their names, or, conversely, that he has lost the ability to recognize things for what they are but still knows how to read.

OK, it's your turn. Please publish your book excerpt in the comment section or email it to me at
wmzuback@backtothezu.com

I will post an image based on this passage sometime next week.

Just for Fun

photo by wm zuback The Flirt

Bar Stool

by william zuback

hard on's

pulsate on skin

beer farts

glancing blows

stale air

short skirts

thongs ride high

skin on skin

radiating warmth

between soft thighs

women in heat

innuendo

word play

white lies

escape wet lips

alcohol tricks

sticky residue

unknown sources

left behind

on bar stools

CRIME SCENE

NOVEMBER

November
by william zuback

November tree limbs creak with arthritic movements
Dry and brittle, the branches scrape together
Pointing upward like knurled bony fingers, reaching to the cold gray sky
November's bitter wind resonates the muffled tapping of an elder's cane
On a frozen sidewalk balanced by the rhythmic shuffle of heavy feet
Leaves release their grip on majestic limbs
Too tired to hold on, abandoning the muscle
Cold November days mark the change of another season
A season of contrast, of black, white, and gray
Arthritic branches hum and moan in the frenzy of fall
Burdened with the heavy weight of an early snow
Hold on to the trunk, fragile limbs
Deep roots held frozen in time

NEW by Mattel, Beach Barbie

Untitled (Description)

I am guilty of doing this with past artwork myself. You see it often on a painting, photograph, 3D art piece; "Untitled", followed by a description of the artwork in parentheses? After a while you ask yourself, why didn't the artist just name the piece the description that they used to explain it's content?

I have been criticized in past shows by art critics that my titles say too much. That because of the title, I don't leave enough room for the viewer to make up their own mind, conclusion, or interpretation, of the art being viewed. Do you write a novel or short story and leave it "Untitled"? Isn't the main goal of an artist to communicate?

So what are your thoughts as an artist or as a patron of the arts? Do you like the work to be titled, untitled, just provide a literal description of the piece, or provide a title that pushes you toward the artists intent?

Old man, newsman, street vendor; how would you title this photograph?