Monday, September 22, 2014
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Marcel Broodthaers, Paul Delvaux in his studio, 1966
Saturday, September 6, 2014
We are very excited to announce the FIRST FEATURE POET for our new series of shows at the Seven Dials Club, Covent Garden on the 7th October 2014. Burn After Reading Presents….
Paula Varjack (U.K./U.S) is a writer and performance maker. Since 2008 she has been making and touring her work which has taken shape in a variety of forms: spoken word, devised performance, documentaries, audio pieces, stories and poems. She was one of nine artists in residence for the E.U. funded Poetry Slam Days project, creating a multilingual show: Smoke and Mirrors, that toured to twenty European cities. In 2009 she represented the U.K. in the Berlin International Literature Festival. She is also the creator and co-producer of the Anti-Slam, a satirical take on poetry slams where the worst poet wins. She has recently returned from a ten week internship in Madrid making a new video piece inspired by stories from Madrid residents. Get varjacked at www.paulavarjack.com
'Burn After Reading Presents', Seven Dials Club, 42 Earlham Street, Covent Garden (http://www.sevendialsclub.com/contact/) Tuesday 7th October. Doors 7.45pm. £3 on the door’
“Eccleston was a tiger and Tennant was, well, Tigger. Smith is an uncoordinated housecat who pretends that he meant to do that after falling off a piece of furniture.” — Steven Moffat
I think we all know who that makes Capaldi.
This is the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
I’ve decided to design a line of clothing, and I’m going to call it It Has Pockets. It’s going to be a line of simple dresses and skirts and every single one will have fucking pockets.
We should be funding this
They’ve gotta be proper pockets though, none of this shit where my phone falls out all the time because only half of it fits in
"Sometimes I wished to express my sensations in my own mode, but the uncouth and inarticulate sounds which broke from me frightened me into silence again."
— The monster, in Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley (via anotherword)