Little Dreams is an inspiring, whimsical short film created by Wilkie Branson. The film features over 4,000 photo cutouts which were painstakingly choreographed and animated over the course of a year. Following a despondent main character during a creative block, little dancers encourage the man to return to his imagination. Soon, he joins their miniature world, and his own little corner of the globe becomes a massive, vibrant landscape– all simply by changing his perspective.
It’s been a terrible couple of weeks for journalism: Brian Williams’ lies, the death of David Carr and Bob Simon within days of one another. #AdviceForYoungJournalists was trending on Twitter for nearly…
In the modern age, celebrities, politicians and teen bloggers alike fall victim to anon hate: threatening, demeaning and often times aggressive communications via Twitter, Facebook or Tumblr messages. Long before the immediate anonymity of the internet, however, sending someone something hateful without identifying yourself as the sender was virtually impossible. Who better to craft the ultimate hate mail campaigns of yesteryear than the most secretive group of people in the states, the FBI?
Creative energy is often really harnessed when shared, and the relationship between Hunter S. Thompson and Ralph Steadman is no exception. Virtually anything that Thompson produced during his career featured Steadman’s wonderfully bizarre illustrations, which greatly complemented the out-there, Gonzo brand of journalism that Thompson pioneered in the latter quarter of the 20th century.
Steadman’s images are instantly recognizable to anyone familiar with the enigma that was Hunter S. Thompson. And thanks to Johnny Depp’s brilliant portrayal of Thompson in 1998’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, another generation was introduced to the often misunderstood writer as well as Steadman’s sensory twisting and thought provoking drawings. Not only is Steadman’s work used for the Criterion Edition cover art of the film, but Fear and Loathing director Terry Gilliam thoughtfully (and effectively) assaulted the audience with Steadman’s often drug-fueled images throughout the film.
Victorian life must have been so much fun: if you weren’t dead or about to die due to infectious diseases, you were always trying to act or at least look that way. That helps explain why, at least in the early days of portrait photography, it was somewhat more socially acceptable to take posed–albeit solemn–pictures with dead bodies than it is today (see: #funeralselfie). Post-mortem portraits were meant to be commemorative, especially in the case of infants and children.