Children of Semina

• Tracing spirits

“Untitled (Wife Eleanor)”, 1951 - Harry Callahan

• Rituals

‘The defeat of Evil’, Yaracuy state. Sorte mountain. Maria Lionza cult. Venezuela. 2006 - Cristina Garcia Rodero

• Body I Am. Become My Art Hannah Wilke (March 7, 1940 – January 28, 1993) "So Help Me Hannah, Snatch-shots"

• Men explaining: Girls Girl with a pointy hood and white schoolbag at the curb, N.Y.C., 1957 - Diane Arbus

• Women in the Axis of Modern Muslim

Qajar series, 1998 - Shadi Ghadirian

• Touched 

San Salvador, 1998- Antoine d' Agata 

“In the daylight we know what’s gone is gone, but at night it’s different. Nothing gets finished, not dying, not mourning.”       

• Rewilding

From the series, ‘Rewilding’, summers of 2009 and 2010 - Cass Bird 

“When the two become the one And the inside outside, the outside in So that the male be not male nor the female female Then will you see me.” 

 • The Million dollar hotel Slum...& Dream

Mary, Santa Marta, Colombia, 1972 - Danny Lyon    

"...Even if its eyes lay open wide, there is a heart that sleeps inside.....for all hearts dream, they dream only of awakening."

• Rhythm of Suffering

Boulder, Colorado graveyard, 1975-1978 - Francesca Woodman

“Don't say mourning. It's too psychoanalytic. I'm not mourning. I'm suffering.”

• Hayley Newman: Stealth, from the series Connotations Performance Images 1994-1998.

“When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.” 

Cosey Fanni Tutti:

I didn’t want to make any sense out of it, not my sense anyway, because the whole point of the project, was that it was what had made sense to the sex industry. I surrendered myself into that industry to be used as they use any other girl, but I didn’t let them know who I was or anything or why I was doing it, otherwise it would be pointless, because I wouldn’t be treated the same way. What I wanted to reveal was the, the thinking of the industry and how different magazines were for different markets. Like you were saying, magazines are so portable, little pocket-size, so people can potentially have them with them all the time, this gives the industry a head start. What was exciting to me, and what I wanted to show, was the differences and the different kind of varied customer-led images that the publishers wanted, even down to the certain positions, the clothing… You’d get the top end, very glamorous ones, like Men Only and Penthouse, which remove a lot of reality away, so that it becomes very much fantasy. But in a different way to the fantasy of the small pocket-size book that’s in black and white with just a couple of colour pages, more or less ‘Readers Wives’ kind of photographs, as if it was the woman next door and the reader is looking through the keyhole. If that was what they were going for, then they’d bring someone who looked like that in and put you together, to do whatever you do together, you know. So that interested me a lot, very specific.

• Blood and Rose, Tokyo, 1969 - Shomei Tomatsu

• Dennis Hopper in Wim Wenders “Der Amerikanische Freund”,  1977

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••      

I haven't stop listening to the double release of "Endless" and "Blonde/Blond". First listen might not make much sense but give it a chance.It's gauzy, it's spacious, it's fluid, it's textural, complex, crafty, cheeky, but it hits deep & heavy in the most subtle & unexpected ways. I caught myself  :’ (  to these tracks & I was like WTF. I think it's Ocean's open-heartedness & reflection in his beautiful verses, even when he's reminiscing fast rides, cheap sex, Carmelo's ring, Nikes on bitches or his heartbreaks in gay / straight relationships...it all hinges on ruminated longings, sweet nostalgia & urban romanticism.                               

• Time of Change, 1962 - Bruce Davidson

I will always love you how I do Let go of a prayer for ya Just a sweet word The table is prepared for you ------

Wishing you Godspeed, glory There will be mountains you won't move (Oh-oh-oh) Still I'll always be there for you (Oh-oh-oh) How I do I let go of my claim on you, it's a free world You look down on where you came from sometimes But you'll have this place to call home, always

(This love will keep us still blinded of the eyes Silence in the ears, darkness of the mind)

Until the time...

(This love will keep people blinded of the eyes

Silence in the ears, darkness of the mind)

'Till the time we die...

(This love will keep us still blinded by the eyes

Silence in the ears, darkness of the mind)

Oh-oh, ohhh I'll always love you Until the time we die Oh-oh, ohhh

• Ghostly statues by Jakub Hadrava at the abandoned church in Czech Republic.

• Untitled, c. 1950s - Zdzisław Beksiński 

.............................

.....Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,     For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away;     But when hunter meets with husbands, each confirms the other's tale—     The female of the species is more deadly than the male.     Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—     Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.     Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact     To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.    Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,    To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.    Mirth obscene diverts his anger—Doubt and Pity oft perplex    Him in dealing with an issue—to the scandal of The Sex!    But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame    Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;    And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,    The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.    She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast    May not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.    These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells—    She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.    She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great    As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate.    And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim    Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.    She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;    Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—    He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,    Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.    Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,    Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,    Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw    And the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!    So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer    With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her    Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands    To some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands.    And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him    Must command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.    And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,    That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.

• Tale, 1992, Kiki Smith