Matt McLaren

Santa Barbara–1980 I didn’t have a mattress yet. it had been three months, but I still lay in my room on my dirty clothes, arranged under a fitted sheet. Ron stood in my doorway, leaning against the jamb. He stared at...

Bernard Meisler

You're about the read what may be the strangest book review you've ever come across, because I'm going to admit up front that I haven't read the book I'm about to review. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm sure that ha...

Julia Kissina

Photographs by Julia Kissina from the "Fairies" project, from 1997-98. Julia Kissina is a photographer and writer born in Kiev, Ukraine. She graduated from the Academy of Arts in Munich in 1998 and now lives in Berlin. Her w...

Carl Watson

The philosophers of the old romances say, and many specialists today concur, that desire is nothing more than the result of a necessary and continuous projection of the self into others; an unattainable wholeness is represen...

D. James Smith

Child of a dying wind it lay In the muck and hot, blond grass Below the dam and its strangled creek That my boyhood friend and I Crossed that morning, determined To flee the nun’s black habits and ink, To claim ...

Robert C. Hardin

My father liked to say that I’d always been impossible to find. During birth, he recalled, I couldn’t be extracted with forceps. No one could see me, so I made my own way out of my mother. The midwife only located me aft...

Erik Noonan

Although it may strike a theorist as paradoxical, the artist’s sole response to a moment such as ours—with its ideological cowardice, its reflexive violence, its prurient spectatorship—is always to exult in using the m...

Thaddeus Rutkowski

On the subway, I see a boy who is about 10 years old; he’s with his father. Both of them have red hair, but the boy has Asian features—a round face and pointy eyes. His father has a long face and Western eyes. Maybe this...

Peter Blauner

He liked to have his house in order, which was why he’d never had a family or pets. He liked his routines and there was nothing wrong with that. Every day in the summer months, he wore his father’s old Fire Department wi...

Justin Clifford Rhody

I’ve been working on the Horse Track Portrait series almost every Sunday for three years now at the Golden Gate Fields horse track in Berkeley. All the photos are of anonymous people at the edge of the track fence during t...