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2月25日 Ghost figures of past, present and future haunting the hearti-D Magazine, The Passionate Issue No. 244
The following is dedicated to the idea of passion. Right now, it seems, there's hardly a shortage of the stuff in the news and media. But whilst the term seems to have been co-opted for bloody, fundamentalist purposes, it seems like a good time to wrestle the word back. To stop and see what it actually means to us. What makes us tick, what gets us hot. So here they are. Nothing too explosive but honest, life-affirming gestures nonetheless. The grand themes and the simple pleasures...
I am passionate about chasing moments and sometimes capturing them.
Matt Black, photographer
I know, it's only rock'n'roll, but I like it.
Greg Kadel, fashion photographer and film maker
I am passionate about the creative process. That is a form of love. We give to it and it gives back to us. It is intuitive and based on feeling and emotions. It is about energy. It is a way of life.
Karina Taira, photographer
I guess I am passionate about the unknown. The unknown that wakes up your curiosity and makes you go on, pushing yourself further in relationships, in work and in experiences... All those things, those excitements, those improvements that you can't reach but want to because they make you feel alive.
Haider Ackermann, fashion designer
Life itself makes me hot and heavy with passion. Love. Music. People. The mystery of human life and death. The magic that exists between every moment and person. The infinite universe. The way the solar system functions. The way a flanger pedal makes a guitar melody sound on top of a distorted guitar riff. Morrissey's clever yet melancholic style. My favourite leather jacket. My love's smile... Enough to keep me going for many life times, and too much to type out with my two little hands in one email.
Melissa Auf Der Maur, musician and photographer
I am passionate about beauty, because it's what makes life worth living.
Terry Richardson, photographer
A woman who survived WWII with nothing but a plastic bag in her hand once arrived after a 20 month walk from east to west, raised four kids with the money that her husband didn't spend on alcohol and women, built a house and managed to make a rabbit look tasty. This woman, 78 years old, still going strong, has an amount of great energy that makes me think: "if this is not passion for life, I don't know what is."
Christina Kruse, model
I am passionate about life. And why? Because I live.
Juergen Teller, photographer
My hips move about when I'm with Ross, and sometimes when I am not with him but thinking of him. I feel more female. I want to wear dresses. He's the Ted Hughes to my Sylvia Plath, the Kurt to my Courtney. I hadn't seen him for years and years, till recently, when he saw a piece in the Evening Standard about Charles Saatchi buying my picture of Princess Diana, Hi Paul, Can You Come Over? Then he emailed out of the blue. I could hardly believe my eyes. We've been doing a lot of emailing since then. We met at drama school in London, in the late '80s. He had black curly locks and 'come to bed with me' eyes. I told him I liked his back at a party, and we were hardly apart for four years. He had a little boy called Chris and I had a little boy called Jamie, and we were a happy little family, always camping and making films. But I was ruthlessly ambitious, whilst playing Pinocchio at Leeds City Varieties or a murderess in an Agatha Christie in Bournemouth, I wanted to be making Mike Leigh films and shagging Tim Roth and Gary Oldman. Ross was extraordinarily supportive. I was Queen Bodacea, on a mission, he however, strangely enough, kept telling me to be the master of my own ship and be a painter! I thought that was a strange thing to say as I didn't paint. He had this extraordinary ability to be creative anywhere, anytime, always content with a guitar to hand, whilst I complained about bills and worried about my agent or my next job. I was cocky and selfish, he didn't open up, I'd decipher his thoughts through his songs. I later met people who could talk more openly, but they were often very boring. Ross was mysterious. I left him. Then I wanted him back. But it was too late, he'd gone, I cried and cried. I never stopped crying, longing that one day he'd see my face on the cover of Melody Maker, a creative superstar, and he'd be filled with regret for not taking me back when he had the chance. He lives in Spain now. I like Spain a lot.
Stella Vine, artist
Do you get it, love? Can you see what my passion is..?
2月4日 Lazy line painter Babs: You're working for the joy of givingEstos días, lo único que hago es trazar líneas. Mi vida se ha convertido en un intrincado océano de líneas. Líneas que van de aquí a allá. Del punto A al punto B. De México a Plymouth, de Plymouth a Londres. De mi cama a un departamento en Islington. De mis labios a sus párpados.
Trazo líneas para acercarme a él, poco a poco. Un buen día aquí, es decir, un buen trazo, es también un pequeño paso para estar con él.
Estoy trazando las líneas que le darán (¿o le están dando ya?) forma a mi adultez, a mi libertad, a mi independencia. Las estoy moldeando con trazos. Estoy viviendo un lento y emocionante juego de unir los puntos.
Hay días en que mi lápiz está perfectamente afilado. La punta se mueve con voracidad y delinea con precisión y fuerza. Otros... otros días no encuentro el lápiz. Cuando lo encuentro no tiene punta. Y no encuentro el sacapuntas ni el sentido de tanta línea y me pierdo en la desesperación de la distancia.
Cómo me gustaría que el diseño de mi vida, de nuestra vida, tomara menos tiempo y menos líneas...
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