What’s your favorite term of venery? We enjoy of a shrewdness of apes, though a kindle of kittens is always nice to have around the house.
I never get tired of these. A drift of hogs! An exaltation of larks!
Yes! A zeal of zebras. An ostentation of peacocks.
in the deep of you
and me the sky
the sea blind blinding binding bound
Hearts of tidal, shoals, the sound
Tristin Lowe - Mocha Dick, 2009, wool felt, vinyl coated fabric, and internal fan.
Mocha Dick is a 52-foot-long recreation of the real-life albino sperm whale that in the nineteenth century terrorized whaling vessels near Mocha Island in the South Pacific.
“Is it that by its indefiniteness it shadows forth the heartless voids and immensities of the universe, and thus stabs us from behind with the thought of annihilation, when beholding the white depths of the milky way? Or is it, that as in essence whiteness is not so much a colour as the visible absence of colour; and at the same time the concrete of all colours; is it for these reasons that there is such a dumb blankness, full of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows—a colourless, all-colour of atheism from which we shrink?
And when we consider that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all other earthly hues—every stately or lovely emblazoning—the sweet tinges of sunset skies and woods; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies, and the butterfly cheeks of young girls; all these are but subtile deceits, not actually inherent in substances, but only laid on from without; so that all deified Nature absolutely paints like the harlot, whose allurements cover nothing but the charnel-house within; and when we proceed further, and consider that the mystical cosmetic which produces every one of her hues, the great principle of light, for ever remains white or colourless in itself, and if operating without medium upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and roses, with its own blank tinge—pondering all this, the palsied universe lies before us a leper; and like wilful travellers in Lapland, who refuse to wear coloured and colouring glasses upon their eyes, so the wretched infidel gazes himself blind at the monumental white shroud that wraps all the prospect around him.
And of all these things the Albino whale was the symbol. Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?”
From. “Moby Dick, or, The Whale.” By Herman Melville
(photo taken by me)
"I like to show the truth. I like to show things that are paradoxical. In these pictures, it’s clear there is no beauty without imperfection." -Nadav Kander
Isley Standing, 2010 From Bodies:6 Women, 1 Man
via The Guardian