LaChapelle

love it. . .

www.lachapellestudio.com

LaChapelle

David LaChapelle The Fellini of Photography

LaChapelle's images have forged a singular style that is unique, original and perfectly unmistakable LaChapelle has worked for the most prestigious international publications and has been the subject of exhibitions in both commercial galleries and leading public institutions worldwide

here is some of his advertising work. . .

The Fall New Album!

Available November 17, 2009

Norah Jones has taken a new direction on the The Fall, experimenting with different sounds and a new set of collaborators. . .

List of songs of the "The Fall"

1. Chasing Pirates
2. Even Though
3. Light As a Feather
4. Young Blood
5. I Wouldn’t Need You
6. Waiting
7. It’s Gonna Be

8. You’ve Ruined Me
9. Back To Manhattan
10. Stuck
11. December
12. Tell Yer Mama
13. Man Of The Hour

Andy Warhol "Mr. America"

Organizada en colaboración con el Museo Andy Warhol de Pittsburgh la muestra reúne una selección de 140 obras, aqui en Buenos Aires que presentan la cultura política y popular de los Estados Unidos a través de los ojos de Warhol.

La lista de obras incluye 26 pinturas, 58 grabados, 39 fotografías y 2 instalaciones (Silver Clouds y Cow wallpaper), además de 17 películas, pertenecientes a diferentes etapas de su producción artística, con un énfasis particular en el período que va de 1961 hasta 1968.

" Andy's Warhol work in Buenos Aires" Mr. America



Sus obras van a estar publicadas desde el 23 de octubre al 22 de febrero de 2010 en el Malba!

Frase del dia

"La vida no es más que un interminable ensayo de una obra que jamás se estrenará"

Source: Amelie (la suka)

Va, vis et deviens (Go, See and Become or Live and Become) 2005

Today at my class of psychology we made a review about this movie Va, vis et deviens, (ser digno de ser) what a powerful and great movie, personally. . . absorbing, well-scripted/acted, and very moving.

if you havent seen it, i hardly recommend it . . .

Summary:

In 1980 the black Falashas in Ethiopia are recognised as genuine Jews. In turn they are secretly carried to Israel. The day before the transport the son of a Jewish mother dies. In his place and with his name (Schlomo) she takes a Christian 9-year-old boy. Upon arrival this second mother dies. Schlomo is adopted by a good family but remains depressed until he secretly sends a letter to his real mother. From the beginning he experiences large and small racist difficulties. In his teens he and Sarah fall in love. Her father is an extreme racist. Schlomo tries to gain "real Jewishness" by winning a competition in Bible interpretation. No change of Sarah's father's attitude. Disappointed he goes to the police and reports himself as not being a Jew. But the police officer just gives him a scolding. "The newspapers are full of that stuff, the Falashas are no Jews. Now they begin to believe it themselves." His adoptive parents send him to France to study medicine. When he afterwards marries Sarah she loses her family and her status as a "white Jew". But he dares not tell her the truth until she becomes pregnant. She leaves him, but only because he had not trusted that she would love him as much anyway. His adoptive mother reconciles them. Sarah's first line when she returns: "Unbelievable what three mothers would do for you." But she makes a condition for returning: Schlomo must meet his real mother again. As a doctor he takes a job in the Ethiopian fugitive camp where she is still alive

Janis Joplin

Janis Joplin just knew how to convey powerful emotions through her music, me and bobby mcgee written by Kris kristofferson for her , during their time together...

This is one of my favorite songs of her . . . hope you enjoy it

Me & Bobby McGee Lyrics

Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waiting for a train
And I's feeling nearly as faded as my jeans.
Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained,
It rode us all the way to New Orleans.

I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna,
I was playing soft while Bobby sang the blues.
Windshield wipers slapping time, I was holding Bobby's hand in mine,
We sang every song that driver knew.

Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing don't mean nothing honey if it ain't free, now now.
And feeling good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues,
You know feeling good was good enough for me,
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.

From the Kentucky coal mines to the California sun,
Hey, Bobby shared the secrets of my soul.
Through all kinds of weather, through everything we done,
Hey Bobby baby? kept me from the cold.

One day up near Salinas,I let him slip away,
He's looking for that home and I hope he finds it,
But I'd trade all of my tomorrows for just one yesterday
To be holding Bobby's body next to mine.

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing, that's all that Bobby left me, yeah,
But feeling good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues,
Hey, feeling good was good enough for me, hmm hmm,
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.

La la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la
La la la la la Bobby McGee.
La la la la la, la la la la la
La la la la la, Bobby McGee, la.

La La la, la la la la la la,
La La la la la la la la la, ain`t no bumb on my bobby McGee yeah.
Na na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na na na na na
Hey now Bobby now, Bobby McGee, yeah.

Lord, I'm calling my lover, calling my man,
I said I'm calling my lover just the best I can,
C'mon, hey now Bobby yeah, hey now Bobby McGee, yeah,
Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lord
Hey, hey, hey, Bobby McGee, Lord!

Yeah! Whew!

Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lord
Hey, hey, hey, Bobby McGee.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5FMhnl0__Vo

I would like to start this blog with a great writer Virginia Woolf, who left a letter to her sister and to her dear husband, and to us her life.

To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face and to know it for what it is. At last to know it, to love it for what it is, and then, to put it away. always the years between us, always the years. Always the love and . . . always the hours . . .