Detail: “Oh, Dear, My Thanksgiving Dinner!” c. 1907 by Jeanette Bernard:
Jeanette Bernard: American photographer, born in Germany: (1855-1941)
A gelatin silver print from original glass plate negative acquired by Culver Service : 15.6 x 20.0 cm:
from PhotoSeed Archive
Every year, thousands of women, men and children are trafficked outside and within the borders for sex and forced labor,” writes Patricia Chabvepi on the project Awhereness by Brooklyn-based photographer Annie Ling.
“ Chabvepi goes on to explain, “Awhereness is a collaboration with trafficked survivors to trace their stories and expose the places that enable trafficking. Trafficking is pervasive, making it hard to detect.
It takes on many different forms, often in the most mundane places: at home, parks, transportation hubs, and beyond.”
Read more about the project at Annie Ling’s website.
via Feature Shoot
Read full article via Juxtapoz Magazine – Annie Ling’s “Awhereness.
The Canterbury Tales is a long poem written at the end of the 14th century by Geoffrey Chaucer, who is credited as having set the style for Middle English literature. His poem follows the journey of a group of pilgrims from London to Canterbury Cathedral. Each pilgrim resolves to tell two tales on the way out and two on the way home to help while away their time on the road.
Who were Caxton’s readers?
Most continental printers produced books in Latin, the international language of the day, in order to be able to sell them in a number of countries. Caxton, on the other hand, mainly produced books in English for a local market.
Although printed books could reach a much wider audience than manuscripts, they were still a luxury in Caxton’s day and were thus aimed at fairly wealthy people. However, printing soon led to books becoming available at a cheaper price, and Caxton was part of the beginning of a major change in the way in which people acquired books for information and for entertainment.
At the end of his Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye, the first book printed in English in about 1473 or 1474, Caxton wrote, ‘I have practised and earned at my great charge and dispense to ordain this said book in print after the manner and form as you may here see, and is not written with pen and ink as other books been, to the end that every man may have them at once.’
Caxton used a Burgundian-style type for the 1476 edition of The Canterbury Tales. Chaucer’s popular classic was itself a canny choice for his first major project in England. The second edition, published in 1483, was printed in a smaller size of the same type design. Smaller type meant more words on each page. Fewer pages meant cheaper production costs – and more profit.
The second edition was also made more commercially appealing by the addition of 26 woodcut illustrations, one at the beginning of each tale, usually showing a pilgrim on horseback.
The rolling house of the future (offered in the September, 1934 issue of Everyday Science and Mechanics) promised at least one thing–the ability to be towed by a tractor. (And seeing that the thing is being pulled along by chains, let’s make sure that there’s no downhill towing, yes?)
Image source originally located via Retronaut.
The spherical houses seemed to come with their own railroad tracks for easier motion–a continuously self-laying track, which would make the new American suburbs a Suburbia Mobilia.
Cheap cars, cheap houses, and a Great Depression might have made for a picture of the future that was very self-sustaining. On the other hand, the one thing that would not have been in the gunsights of the American manufacturing centre which does not make for a lot of room to store all of the consumables that were waiting just around the corner.
In this respect I am sure that these small buckets for human life would seem unacceptable, leaving little room for purchases.
It does remind me of wholesale town-moving, but from the past–real-life stuff, things that happened.
Like here, for example, in Ochiltree, Texas, 20 October 1920. This was a rare occurrence–to move a town–though it is hardly unique, particularly if moving the town closer to a railroad line that had decided to pass it by meant the difference between life and death of the town, then, well I guess you moved the town if you could. Cemeteries included, sometimes; and sometimes not.