a spontaneous submission like I wish I had more…
more on: www.knotan.com
what makes a good tattoo is not necessarily the technique…

Alice Dellal is at Select (London)

Here is a selection of things we liked. Certain things we liked either I wasn’t able to photograph or the pictures looked crap. So don’t see in this a fashion statement. Additionally, I feel lazy here writing all the credits as the show was very extensively covered by Diane Pernet on her Blog (see the posts of the Sunday, 26 April 2009. And if you don’t know it, take the opportunity to browse!!!

Text by Jennifer Chesler, Photography by Cheong Kwon


Mandi, one of the girls at the club, she puts on her wig and starts moving on the stage, stumbling left and right, right and left. She dances like her legs are about to go out from under her, lies on the ground with her legs spread, plump and round. Her cracks are wet; you can see it, slick-like down the middle, and a dildo she holds in one hand. She puts it down on the ground, and she starts going down, working that dick in and out of her pussy, fucking crazy, that bitch. There isn’t even any lube on the goddamn thing. I get a hot flash, a wet spot in my pants, watching her. What the fuck, I say, what the fuck? But she keeps going, chains on her wrists, big cock stuck up her cunt, music playing like you wouldn’t believe. Shine it closer, I say, shine up the — the spotlight hits her right in the eyes. I know she can’t see shit; I take a $50 bill and stick it in her twat, like a billfold. Hateful, I was hateful. She doesn’t see how much I give her, but I give it to her anyway, don’t even tell her it’s from me, just wait for her to crawl in my direction, and then I slide it in there. When the spotlight moves to her tits, they’re big as balls, I tell you, big as motherfucking balls, rolling down her chest like a mother.

Suspended time, static evasions through intimate places, such is the point of departure of this journey.
These photos want to show these first messages, these first imprints which we wanted for ever to keep and which reveal a little of our most intimate story.


(Photographic project by Laurent Croisier)

Not to repeat maria’s post, but the show was amazing with beautiful visuals and sound experiments playing along Lydia’s words. Have a look!

And more than anything, the conclusion of this encounter is: Lydia asked us to contribute to Sang Bleu! Mais bien-sûr, Madame! Very honoured!

Little old me has been invited by LVMH to attend to the Festival de mode et de photographie de Hyères (whatever the actual name is…) to represent Sang Bleu. Meet us there!