More of Matt's work. It's all amazing but I'm in love with the third image down. In my future house it'll have a very prominent spot on the wall above my future fireplace...one day far far away. For now I just wish I had a pair of glasses made of spires and arches...
Spencer Tunick is an American photographer known for shooting nude photographs that often include thousands of participants. Places as far flung as Cleveland, Barcelona, and Caracas have provided the landscape for Tunick's nude installations.
2003 London 500 nudes in London's Selfridges department store
2005 Bruges 700 nudes standing in a theatre
2010 Syndey 5,200 nudes photographed as part of Sydney's Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras
"3 guys, 44 days, 11 countries, 18 flights, 38 thousand miles, an exploding volcano, 2 cameras and almost a terabyte of footage... all to turn 2 ambitious linear concepts based on movement, learning and food... into 3 beautiful and hopefully compelling short films...
=trip of a lifetime"
"Scientist Dr Babu, mixed the sugar drops with edible colours red, green, blue and yellow and placed them in his garden to attract the insects.
By placing them on a paraffin base the drops kept their shape when touched by the ants. The 53-year-old discovered the ants preferred lighter colours such as yellow and green.
He said: 'The idea for the photograph came to me after my wife showed me some ants that turned white sipping the spilled milk drops on our kitchen counter.
'I shot the photo in my garden to take advantage of the natural lighting and set a paraffin sheet with coloured sugar drops near some ants. 'Even though I could get enough of a crowd within a few minutes, it required several retakes to have a shot up to my satisfaction.'"
To the caller, when I first answer, I am the inanimate Barbie.
They do not know what I look like, who I am, how I am feeling, or how I feel. They can only imagine. It is my job to indulge their fantasies, to convince them that I am not a doll. I am their dream turned real.
If they ask if I am blonde, I become a blonde. If they ask how wet I am, I tell them that my panties are drenched. I respond to every sound the caller makes with an affirmation, I encourage them, I breathe life into the fantasy, I carve the doll out of flesh.
I’m 60 years old, have a BA in Cultural Anthropology from Columbia University, and married for 25 years.
Men call me for an infinity of reasons.
Of course, they call to masterbate. I call it “Executive Stress Relief”.
It’s not sex; it’s a cocktail of testosterone, fueled by addiction to pornography, loneliness, and the need to hear a woman’s voice.
I make twice the money I made in the corporate world. I work from home, the money transfers into my bank account daily.
Just last night I received possibly the most disturbing phone-sex call I’d had in a long time.
A caller shot himself with me on the phone.
The unmistakable sound of a gun-shot followed by the heavy and wet sound of a body falling with a thud to the floor.
Things like this always scare me.
My current track record stands at one confession of incestuous sexual abuse, being asked to perform fellatio on my younger brother, and two other suicides.
There was a guy who wanted to be my puppy.
He called me almost every week and we would talk for more than an hour, but I never knew what to say to him.
I would talk about taking him out for a walk, and puting down newspaper for him, and going to the groomers.
I don’t even know if he liked it, because he would never say anything.
I used to hate when he called, because I knew I would have to pull an hour-plus worth of bullshit out of my ass.
My first night was on a Saturday at midnight.
It was a gentleman who I believe called himself Bob.
He told me about his first experience with a glory hole.
He explained that he had no-one he felt comfortable telling this to, and I felt a strange intimacy between us, though it was rooted in a fantasy.
I think it’s easier to release repressed desires to a non-judgmental, fictional person, because there are no consequences in the outside world.
I am a straight male who speaks to women.
They want me.
They want me to talk to them, and to take them to another world.
I’m good at it. I’m a pro. A ladies man.
I speak to younger women. I speak to older women. I speak both spanish and english. I have been thrown offers left and right.
They want me to meet up and have my way with them, but I keep it only to phone conversations.
Long Exposure Photography tracks the tedious day's work of a Roomba vacuum cleaning robot equipped with multicolored lights. The top photo looks like a couple layers of a rubber band ball stretched across the width of a room. It'd make an amazing trampoline if it weren't for the gaps.