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The Magpie is the only non-mammal species to have the ability of self recognition in a mirror test.
And they are are also the ultimate recycler known for thieving and collecting found objects for their nests.
Then, in 2005, ‘sick with shingles, I walked into a shop that was running ceramic painting classes and it was immediately obvious that it was something I had to do’. Having worked with human hair in the past and now with donated pigeon, natural, undyed feathers, Kate Mcc Gwire creates visually striking art.
While she has worked with earthenware as well as porcelain, her medium has always been the plate. The Royal College of Art MA graduate is based on a boat floating on the Thames, which helps her stay connected to nature.
Gisela Torres Photos: Gisela Torres Hats: Sahar Freemantle Makeup Artist: Sara Sorrenti Hair: Jack Merrick Thirlway Model: Danielle Ifra Yuval Atzili was my student. I have known him as a teacher knows a beloved student.
There is a limit to what you can know about your students. I have taught him 2 years in Bezalel Academy of Arts and Design. I have met again a few months ago, we sat in a coffee shop, he doesn’t like coffee shops. Even people who eat everything don’t freeze that kind of birds.
Creates some kind of life and death erotica, horrible and beautiful.
Erotica of exploitation, defiance and embarrassment, and sadness.
Susan’s ability to focus is well matched by her possession of a steady hand.
Someone could not woke someone up from its fainting, from its death; that’s almost indecent and yet I believe him; I believe this quest for beauty in all places that supposed to be covered with dirt.
“This is me and my brother”, he said to me simply when describing the relationship between the young man and the bird; two non-identical twins who rolled out to the farthest edges: man and bird, live and dead; and suddenly the layers I’ve counted faded into dust.
He spoke about dead birds, I remembered birds interested him back then as well, in Bezalel. See, those are birds that people don’t usually put inside their freezer, long winged, magnificent, fragile. He told me about the freezer, the cooler where a dead bird is each time carried into the club he photographs in, waiting for the right, crucial moment.
I was immediately sorry I hadn’t thought of it myself, that I hadn’t stolen him from life, into my story.