Monday, June 24, 2013

done gone ROGUE

VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2013 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
© 2013 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.
Vogue? 
Repazents so much to so many who allegedly charge Keats with promoting a mortal fallacy:

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty"- that is all
Ye know on earth, and all you need to know.

John Keats wrote of an urn though.  'Mad men' of antiquity-pottery-advertising seem to have waned in modern print media.  Keats was a poet, after all, not a magazine editor, and therefore less of a perpetrator of 'our' aesthetic zeitgeist.  

Point?  The number of Vogue covers featuring women of color is far less than the amount of seeds that might be counted in this watermelon sliced for the August, 1951 British Vogue cover, photographed by Erwin Blumenfeld.  (Lest we cast assumption upon the brunette model's heritage sans a swabbed cheek surveyed by Harvard Professor Henry Louis Gates.)  Nevadaless, faces from a more diverse demo may keep outta sight in this epitomes glossy.  One publication, granted.  Howe'er, symbolically, Vogue sets the 'industry' standard, thereby standardizin' ideal beauty.  And yet?  By melon, by Golly O. G., does a certain 'ethnic' absence not somehow remain?  Absence.  Absence - itself - as an eerie presence.  Phantom 'visibility', perchance? 
                                                                                                                                         
                                                                             © Conde Nast (publication)/ *© Erwin Blumenfeld*(photographer)

Concur with this haunting sense of sum'in...off?  If so, then together, gentlesoulfolk, we have just collectively experienced the phenomena, H2Omeloncholy.  Do raise thy red-checkered kerchief.  And dab chin.  Missed a spot.  No worries - we'll wait...

Remaining as undecided as unfazed as to the duration this blog may rely upon the above Blumenfeld 'shot' for our non-commercially-used title image.  For now?  Eh, invisibility stylishly underscored.  Hence, props to our purpose.

My good peops, hoping that there 'covers' the vision for this blog, the 'non-visuals' it will dare to entertain, and the verve in those moments of H2Omeloncholia - which, here, will no longer be rendered indistinguishable from our daily doings and beings.  Some happenings will be more subtle.  Think: a 'dense' pink hue.  Others?  Well, they just might ingratiate us with a bloodied red shade at the peak of societal 'summer', leaving us spitting noir upon stained Memorial Day linen whites.  Be that H2Omeloncholy aura - or wet ring - in our public, private, political, professional, pop cultural spheres.  Plus any other 'p' adjective or 'v' noun so ripe...oh, eva ripe...for the picking. 


a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility of
POSTness 

Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...

© 2013 KM Fikes 
© 2013 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com 
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.

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