A shining breakfast, a breakfast shining


A change, a final change includes potatoes. This is no authority for the abuse of cheese.
A shining breakfast, a breakfast shining, no dispute, no practice, nothing, nothing at all.
A sudden slice changes the whole plate, it does so suddenly.
Anything that is decent, anything that is present, a calm and a cook and more singularly still a shelter, all these show the need of clamor. What is the custom, the custom is in the centre.
What is a loving tongue and pepper and more fish than there is when tears many tears are necessary. The tongue and the salmon, there is not salmon when brown is a color, there is salmon when there is no meaning to an early morning being pleasanter. There is no salmon, there are no tea-cups, there are the same kind of mushes as are used as stomachers by the eating hopes that makes eggs delicious. Drink is likely to stir a certain respect for an egg cup and more watermelon than was ever eaten yesterday. Beer is neglected and cocoanut is famous.
Coffee all coffee and a sample of soup all soup these are the choice of a baker.
All the pliable succession of surrendering makes an ingenious joy.
A breeze in a jar and even then silence, a special anticipation in a rack, a gurgle a whole gurgle and more cheese than almost anything.

- breakfast by gertrude stein

(dan martensen and shannan click, upstate new york)

in purple

martin margiela summer shot by wolfgang tillmans for puple magazine

everything that exists vibrates, and therefore sings

After the second world war the Germans left a scattering of concrete bunkers along the south-western coastline of Norway. These little architectual gems pepper the beaches and sheepfolds like a collection of miniature funkis-villas. I grew up with these little orgone chambers being a natural part of the scenery, but it still amazes me how beautiful they are


wael sersoub, brett & maxime shot by fanny latour-lambert, styling jean-paul paula for wad magazine