Word: curls
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...there's nothing camp or ironic about Eggleston's work. The power of his pictures rests on their casual but absolute sincerity, their conviction that small is beautiful. There's something very American about this, a valorization of the commonplace, carried to a level of intensity that can curl your toes. Looking at his picture of a soda bottle simply perched on the hood of a car, you can't help thinking of what Henry James once wrote about Nathaniel Hawthorne: "The minuteness of the things that attract his attention, and that he deems worthy of being commemorated, is frequently...
...either: it had outlets on three continents and annual revenue of about $40 million. But right from its 1984 launch in a Sydney motel, Mambo in spirit was always the quirky interloper contending with surfwear's super-heavyweights, the all - Down Under trio of Billabong, Quik?silver and Rip Curl...
...little mélange.” At times, his selections read like a “best of” edition of the Western canon—the most poignant selections of Stendhal, Woolf, and Nabokov. By the end of the book, you want nothing more than to curl up with one of Wood’s favorites and continue to marvel.Wood’s insistence on the process and the construction of fiction amplifies his argument. Unlike recent works of popular literary criticism focused solely on the interpretation of texts, “How Fiction Works?...
...tawny furry face and just seem to soothingly purr, “Everything’s going to be alright now that Dewey, the small-town library cat, is here.” Sitting on a book in front of shelves of other books, Dewey invites me to just curl up with him right here and fall into a fantasy land of good reading. (Note: cat not included in cost of purchase.) IZZY AND LENORE: TWO DOGS, AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY, AND ME by Jon Katz A robust black lab pup stares into my eyes as if I have...
...board at the inn, he had been forced to succumb to the inept fumblings of pallid, emaciated men in too-tight breeches, all calling themselves “artists.” Invariably these artists found reasons to constantly touch him, rearranging that arm, this hand, that burnished curl. This, The Stable Boy knew, would be the last time. He growled softly to himself.Tatiana purred in response. They had taken to each other immediately.“Well,” said Monsieur Jacques, “I suppose that—well, I do believe that will suffice...