“Death and the Maiden”, 1915, Egon Schiele.
I feel nothing for them
I feel nothing, nothing.
I like drinking coffee alone and reading alone. I like riding the bus alone and walking home alone. It gives me time to think and set my mind free. I like eating alone and listening to music alone. But when I see a mother with her child, a girl with her lover, or a friend laughing with their best friend, I realize that even though I like being alone, I don’t fancy being lonely. The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad. I just need someone who won’t run away.
Anonymous (via natatouille)
Amie Dicke. After Goldschmidt, 2012
"At the Herengracht 401 there is a room on the third floor. This room used to be a hiding place for young (Jewish) men during World War II. Manuel Goldschmidt was one of them and after the liberation he stayed connected to this safe house. Until recently he lived in the same room where he was kept in hiding. He died in March 2012.
When I first entered the space it felt like a time capsule. A frozen world that you do not want to touch because of its delicate state, yet too important to let it go. In an attempt to mark the fragile points I began to fill up the cracks and open joints with pieces of gold colored emergency blankets.
I started with the windows (there was quite some draft). Then I lined the contours of the space between the outside wall and the carpet, like a floor plan, followed by the cracks in the furniture pieces and little holes in the walls and ceiling. It took me almost a month to make this fragmented drawing in space.”
Do you ever get nervous
The Mysteries of the Horizon (1955), Rene Magritte / HYFR, Drake ft. Lil Wayne
Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go