FTV : Lovecavian
It's the Ali Baba’s Cave of rare books, true love is hard to find, and back we go to Yharnam...
From The Vault is The Noisy Alchemist’s ongoing reclamation program; preserving posts from the original TNA blog that ran for three years, from early 2018 until its shuttering in early 2021. Much of this content is no longer available anywhere else on the internet.
The following column, ‘Lovecavian’ was first published on 03.03.18 and has been reposted here in its entirety, in as close to its original format as possible without edit or amendment.
The preservation of existing visual elements and also of original links has been facilitated where possible. Where not possible, these elements may have been omitted or suitable replacements found. Tags may have been integrated.
Transmission follows.
Our wholesale providers for fine photographic tomes has an office on Wardour Street. It is, to all intents and purposes the Ali Baba’s Cave of rare books. It also feels a little like it exists on Diagon Alley and I like to believe that it sometimes does.
Do I have the two to five hours spare required for this particular foray into this precarious structure?
Every time I think I may be approaching the point where I might begin to formulate a map of its Tardis-like geometry, I find another stack of Photolooks among which may lurk a Warhol ‘Wanted Men’ manuscript and I have to stop myself and ask: Do I have the two to five hours spare required for this particular foray into this precarious structure? Have I told anyone where I’m going? Should I be wearing a GPS tracker? I’ve seen that movie and James Franco lost a mother fucking arm.
These things turn up at the bottom of desk drawers, behind sofas and nestled in between small clothes
