from the past few months in my new home of los angeles. just got back from a month in the middle east. reworking a new site to share a ton of new work. bare with me, internets.
Four 8×10 archival prints on lustre paper.
Limited edition series.
Signed and numbered.
For individual prints, please contact email@example.com
Photos+ Video + Words By : Noavi
Track by : Iron Galaxy/Hank Corwin
From Wanderlust Found:
“I made this visual poem to encourage the spirit of adventure in all of us, from our backyards to opposite hemispheres .
the short is made up of entirely original footage from all 7 continents + serves as an introduction to a video series exploring the sensation of wonderment + shared international experience .
through a bit of nomadic ethnography, these shorts will highlight quality of life in places made taboo by their political associations.”
While in Abu Dhabi, Noa asked me to be a muse for the beautiful introductory video for the magical video series, Wanderlust Found. I’m so excited to share the beauty she captured and the fun we had making it.
Visit Wanderlust Found to see the full video, and prepare to be swept away.
This month’s tracklist:
01 Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros – 40 Day Dream
02 Willie Hutch – Tell Me Why
03 Elephant – Skyscraper
04 Sonic Youth – Incinerate
05 Paul McCartney – Coming Up
06 Aretha Franklin – Chain of Fools
07 Irma Thomas – Ruler of My Heart
08 Bob Dylan – House of the Rising Sun
09 Fever Ray – When I Grow Up
10 Chromatics – I’m On Fire
11 Elliott Smith – Bye
California gives good light.
A richness that gives a glowing wealth to each of its residents. Shadows play tricks, add dimension to every block. Magic hour drips a golden honey, good to the last second of sunlight.
I’m happy to call California home, for now.
New Orleans to California.
Don’t stop for fast food. Produce and nuts are your best friend. Don’t drink Red Bull. Sugar is your enemy. Coffee. Black. Always. Listen to Paul Simon. Listen to Bob Dylan. Listen to Led Zeppelin. When you’re tired, listen to the most obnoxious pop music. When you can’t bear to hear another song, settle for the wind hitting your ear drums. Download “Roadside” to assist with finding strange things along the way. Invest in AAA, it’s fucking worth it. Have underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste and wet wipes available at all times. Stay in at least one strange motel. Stay with friends in great cities. Have a fantastic driving partner to keep you sane.
When you’re ridiculously tired, pumping gas in Louisiana, and hear a stranger whistling at you non-stop. Don’t attack, it’s probably just a parrot.
New York to New Orleans.
Day one. An itch to get out of the north east, fast. Spend a whole rainy morning and afternoon packing your car to its maximum weight. Get stuck in Holland Tunnel traffic. Zoom through 95. New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia. Aim for North Carolina, or maybe even Tennessee. I think we have some friends in Nashville. No. Too far, I know someone in Charlotte. Midnight strikes. Your driving partner is asleep and the roads are unlit. Music won’t help. Another coffee? No. “Clara, wake up. Find us a motel. We won’t make it to Charlotte.” Exit. This town is uncomfortably quiet. Unload your valuables. Sleep on the border of Virginia and North Carolina.
Day two. Wake up in a strange motel, in a strange town, with strange people. Breakfast special at the diner next door: eggs, butter, hash browns, butter, coffee, butter. We’re officially in The South. Thirteen hours to New Orleans. Stop at strange sights along the way. North Carolina. You drive, I’ll google weird things. Georgia. Stop. Laugh. Get back in the car. Atlanta. Maybe a city to find something remotely healthy. Stop at a cute restaurant. Order fried chicken and mac&cheese. “Healthy” Seven hours to New Orleans. The sun starts to set. Mississippi. The yawns begin. Coffee. No. Red Bull. Finally, an hour and a half to New Orle-POP! Mobile, Alabama. Midnight. One tire has completely escaped the scene and there’s no where but a ditch to pull into. Fuck. Royally fucked. Who has AAA? Call brother, nothing. Call Clara’s mom, nothing. Call Jac, yes, of course. Thirty minutes later, Keith and AAA platinum save the day and tow us 130 miles to New Orleans.
Day three. Wake up in New Orleans. A familiar place, Rusty’s magical home. If you could pack all of New Orleans into one home, this is what it would look like. Dolly Fartin (the kitten) wakes us too early. Pure exhaustion settles. It’s hot, you’re sticky, sweaty. Spend the day at the Country Club. Float nude. Your state of exhaustion leads to voyeuristic tendencies. The sun sets, the heat stays.