Sublime

I was a lamp’s light, weightless with heat and fire except for the darkened wick insisting on its presence in the flame’s center, insisting that there was still something being destroyed, still something that could feel pain as it burned down.

His most reproduced disaster silkscreen is 1947 White, a news photograph of a fashion model who jumped from the Empire State Building and landed on the roof of a diplomatic limousine.

game. Mike finished us off with a rambling story about Joel-Peter Witkin, the avant-garde artist who procured heads from Mexican morgues and photographed them in elaborate arrangements alongside hermaphrodites and dwarves in mythical costume. Witkin said his desire to create this dark imagery came from witnessing a horrific car accident

Gabe, by contrast, was skin and bone. He was touching forty but looked ten years older again, with a face on him like a vandalised church, long and angular and pitted, eyes glinting deep in their sockets like smashed-out windows.