Nude descending stairs... (censored)
This here shot was taken in Brussels in October, 2003, on an afternoon too cold to be outside. Hope you like it.
Dog journals
Life can be a bitch, is the general opinion. Well, since I like mine so much, I must be a dog...
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
This here shot was taken in Brussels in October, 2003, on an afternoon too cold to be outside. Hope you like it.
About Me
- Name: Anurag
- Location: Pune, India
No, I'm NOT a real dog. I wish I were but I'm not. I am an engineer, a sportsman, a nice husband (at least I think so), a half-hearted artist, a photography enthusiast, a lover of cryptic crosswrods and coffee (COFFEE!!), and a late sleeper. That's it!
8 Comments:
Here's what I want to know.. where's the nude? More importantly, WHO's the nude?
Ah hmm. I see. Using a popular search keyword word to get some hits on the blog? Nice try.
M, in response to your comment and a question you had posed on your blog a few days back - yes, YOU are the one with a mind like a sewer. Ouch, I hope that isn't too harsh for the first visitor to your blog. Anyway, the explanation of the post. There was this famous painter of ancient times (anything before 1975) called Marcel Duchamp who painted this marvellous painting called "study of a nude descending stairs", whose title I shamelessly pagiarized, took out the nude (there never was one, in case you are wondering) and posted.
PJ, are you blaming a person like me with a soul purer than driven snow made of distilled water of using underhanded means for getting more traffic on my blog? How did you know? :))
Moi? With a mind like a sewer? No, no! Btw, it's eM innit? Unless you know my "real" name!
Very nice picture, even nicer title.
elck
(vernacularbody.typepad.com)
isnt it obvious!
the photographer is nude.
You might be interested in this:
It's a poem on the original painting. Rather effectively captures the time-lapse photography effect of the painting, eh?
Nude Descending a Staircase
Toe upon toe, a snowing flesh,
A gold of lemon, root and rind,
She sifts in sunlight down the stairs
With nothing on. Nor on her mind.
We spy beneath the banister
A constant thresh of thigh on thigh.
Her lips imprint the swinging air
That parts to let her parts go by.
One-woman waterfall, she wears
Her slow descent like a long cape
And pausing, on the final stair
Collects her motions into shape.
-- X. J. Kennedy
wat a name :)
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