Who wants to be evil with me?

I've posed for pictures with Iv'ry Soap * I've petted stray dogs, and shied clear of dope * My smile is brilliant, my glance is tender * But I'm noted most for my unspoiled gender * I've been made Miss Reingold, though I never touch beer * And I'm the person to whom they say, "You're sweet, my dear," * The only etchings I've seen have been behind glass * And the closest I've been to a bar is at ballet class * Prim and proper, the girl who's never been cased * I'm tired of being pure and not chased * Like something that seeks it's level * I want to go to the devil * I want to be evil, I want to spit tacks * I want to be evil and cheat at jacks * I want to be wicked, I want to tell lies * I want to be mean and throw mud pies * I want to wake up in the morning * With that dark brown taste * I want to see some dissipation in my face * I want to be evil, I want to be mad * But more than that, I want to be bad * I want to be evil and trump an ace * Just to see my partner's face * I want to be nasty, I want to be cruel * I want to be daring, I want to shoot pool * and in the theatre, I want to change my seat * Just so I can step on everybody's feet * I want to be evil, I want to hurt flies * I want to sing songs like the guy who cries * I want to be horrid, I want to drink booze * And whatever I've got, I'm eager to lose * I want to be evil, little evil me * Just as mean and evil as I can be! {I want to be evil by Eartha Kitt}
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One of those songs that just eats you alive! This post is a preview to my upcoming series, A Curated Apprenticeship, where I plan to revere those femmes fatales that have shaped who I am and what I aspire to be. Stay tuned...

Flying Houses

 

I'll start by saying that I've had a very awkward week. No matter what I'd put into motion, it just felt bizarrely ungrounded, as if another version of me was calling the shots.  And then, late last night, I stumbled upon the beautiful œuvre of French photographer, Laurent Chehere, Flying Houses. They summarize my sense of displacement to a T, and at the same time, remind me that nothing is permanent. From time to time, a toppled occurrence (week) is exactly what one needs to refocus and carry on!

Run-down, decorated with pieces of street art, half-demolished, burning or simply showing their typically Parisian roofs and facades, these buildings populate a fairy tale where the urban social complexities are not eliminated but rather elevated as a symbol of the contemporary world at large. (Frame Magazine)

The Flying Houses series is currently on display at Paris-Beijing Galerie in Paris until December 4, 2012. 

Photos borrowed from Frame Magazine, here and Chehere's site, here.