ESSAY
- by Joe W.
In this photo essay, [Joe W.] wishes to show you some of the odds and ends of a Barcelona, Spain you might not be familiar with. But his hope is that when you visit Barcelona, you will find yourself in similar situations and enjoy them as much as he does. From La Paella to La Playa, Barcelona has many stories to tell. And sometimes the best stories cannot be written down.
“Leave the wine glass out and drink a toast to forever.” – The Velvet Underground
- by Joe Nolan
John Luther Jones was born on March 14, 1863. The son of a Kentucky school teacher, Jones eventually moved to Jackson, Tenn., and took work as a railroad engineer on the Illinois Central. Almost exactly 37 years after his inauspicious entry into the world, on a foggy night in Yazoo County, Miss., Jones would be born again, as a hero who became a legend.
Jones was born in southeast Missouri, although the exact place of birth is unknown. What is known, is that Jones and his family moved South to Kentucky when he was 13 years old. In no time, Jones grew into a strapping young man, standing nearly 6 feet 5 inches tall on the streets of his new small town, the place that was to give him his nickname: Cayce, KY.
By the time Jones was 15, he had his first job as a telegrapher for the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, located near Cayce, in Columbus, KY. With Casey’s natural size and strength, opportunities for advancement in the often brutal world of railroad labor came quickly and easily. By 1884, Casey moved to Jackson, Tenn., where he worked as a flagman for the M&O.
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- by Martin Jones
These pictures were taken walking around the South Main district on a Saturday afternoon. We attempted to capture the beauty that can be found in the old and abandoned buildings in the area - the textures, the light and the character. We found that on foot, things we normally wouldn’t notice captured our interest, from the colors in an old parking garage to an old rusty window. While the South Main district has come a long way in filling up many of these abaonded spaces with great shops and galleries, there are still the old and decaying relics in the mix.
- by Nicole C. Perugini
(1) in a b l u e moon
if youre out of your mind
(in a good way)
you might happen upon
the nocturnal sorrento
who plays a cheap tiesco
&
paints
“angels and shit” . . .
it was back in 1992 when sorrento picked up then*girlfriends paint brush
& these days his artwork can be found throughout the country
from sun studios to the rocknroll hall of fame
as well as in the homes of the beautiful people
(and notsobeautiful if you count keith richards).
he paints musicians
and
he plays music -
you cant get any more mu*si*cian*ly than that.
meet lamar sorrento.
See and learn more about nicole c perugini’s photography on her website, 11photographs.com.
- by Adam Akin
I’m really not supposed to be telling you any of this, so please, please believe me.
I’m sitting on one side of a big conference table in a depressing little room. Halogen-white walls, cheap, sand paper carpeting the dirty grey of factory floors, and fluorescent lights. I hate those lights. My bare forearms look bleached out, hairless and pock marked, and my eyes are aching.
Michael is at the head of the table. He’s in charge, and he seems nice enough. He smiles and talks a lot of shop. FCC this, Federal statutes that, blah blah blah. He’s bald. Like, super bald. Like, that close a shave doesn’t even seem possible bald, and all the light in the room is reflecting off of his impossibly bald head and right into my eyes. I’m squinting so hard when I look at him that I probably look like I’m in some kind of pain.
Tanya is at the other end of the table nursing some sort of iced coffee drink and smiling this big, white, empty Zoloft/Percidan-cocktail smile. Her eyes look bright and vacant at the same time. And she doesn’t talk except to give some snappy, abridged version of whatever Michael’s just said. She’s pretty, I guess. But she’s wearing way too much makeup. Like, so much that you can smell the makeup. And her jewelry is an accident waiting to happen. Hoops, bangles, chains, pierced in, latched on, looped around. She should stay away from pool halls and paper shredders.
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