As a former competitive synchronized swimmer whose enthusiasm and nostalgia for the sport has not diminished in the two decades (yikes) since I was bringing home the gold (regional mid-atlantic) medals, I have ALWAYS thought there should be more synchro art in the world.
This photo series is pretty good, but where are the edgy large scale synchronized swimming performances? And no, whatever the Russians and Ukrainians were doing at the last Olympics does not count, nor does the Esther Williams stuff L.A.’s Aqualilies group performs at Art Basel, etc.
I’m talking some twisted Julliard-student, goth-y, dubstep-tinged, flashlight-lit, purple-dyed water experiments. The fantasy of creating something like that may forever drive my most authentic “if only I had a trust fund” wistfulness.
Really thought my first (and only) tattoo would look like this. Sadly the dude who etched it onto me in Melbourne back in 2008 didn’t know you have to use plastic needles for white tattoos or the metal will bleed into the design creating a blotchy mess. Also, which isn’t the fault of the tattoo artist, I somehow didn’t realize at the time that trying to stamp the symbol from Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying Of Lot 49 onto your forearm is terribly pretentious in a pretty shallow way.
My sage and obvious advice: don’t get tattoos on the heels of enormous breakups and/or when traveling for work to the other side of the planet.