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Balthus’ Postmodernism
By Daniel Adler What if I told you I painted a picture of a 12-year-old girl showing her panties? Pretty perverse, you’d think. Maybe you’d reconsider our friendship, or more likely, reading this blog....
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PENULTIMATE NIGHT
The Puker, Chris D'Acunto, 2010. Daniel Adler don’t got his phone no mo’. Bought two tickets today, one from Cairo to Athens, the other from Warsaw to Mumbai. Very well priced, six hundred for both....
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Going Out in Gay Tel Aviv
By Daniel Adler Yoni is fabulous. He’s the most fabulous person he knows. When I first met Yoni when I arrived in his apartment, he invited twelve other fabulous people over into the living room where...
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Striking the Balance in Foreign (And Domestic) Dating
The Mirpasset. By Daniel Adler I’m staying in Lisa and Yoni’s apartment in Central Tel Aviv. I sleep on the mirpasset, the sun room, the porch with the fifty year old metal shutters that keep out the...
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Daniel Adler Gets Lost in Jerusalem
Olive Trees Will Be Our Borders. I walked. Not directly to the Old City, that would be too easy. I took a right to the Russian Neighborhood where that German guy pointed (he actually just entered the...
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Daniel Adler Dances Through Istanbul
The sun shone golden through my beer as I watched the bubbles spin. It was kind of Anthony to buy me this beer; I usually don’t drink so early in the afternoon. We were in a cafe across the Bosphorus,...
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Daniel Adler Safaris Kaziranga National Park
For the past three days I’ve been in the Northeast Indian state of Assam with no internet, no phone, and no tv. Three months ago I wasn’t even sure this was part of India, the part east of Bangladesh....
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Daniel Adler Gets a Better Sense of Reality
My legs felt strong after sitting all afternoon as I walked up the hill past the white lady, past the bald man, inhaling the smell of incense giving way to bull shit, then the bull, long black hairs on...
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Daniel Adler Comes to Terms With the End of His Trip (And His Whispering...
I’m coming to terms with the end of my trip. I met a young man named Aaron last night at a Couchsurfing event a six-foot two German girl invited me to. It was the kind of thing I used to waffle over...
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Metamodernist Imagism
Imagist, objectivist, metamodernist, they all share one thing in common: lack of association. I’m reading A Farewell to Arms right now, after having saved it for this moment for years. I’m struck by...
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