The Art of the Straight Line captures the energy of Lou Reed’s worlds of Tai Chi, music, and meditation. It was edited by his wife, the artist Laurie Anderson, with Stephan Berwick, Bob Currie, and Scott Richman. Lou Reed was a musician, singer, songwriter, poet, and founding member of the legendary rock band the Velvet Underground. He collaborated with many artists, from Andy Warhol and John Cale to Robert Wilson and Metallica. Reed had a groundbreaking solo career that spanned five decades until his death in 2013. Reed was also an accomplished martial artist whose practice began in the 1980s. He studied with Chen Tai Chi pioneer Master Ren GuangYi. This book is a comprehensive collection of Reed’s writings on Tai Chi. It includes conversations with Reed’s fellow musicians, artists, friends, and Tai Chi practitioners, including Julian Schnabel, A. M. Homes, Hal Willner, Mingyur Rinpoche, Eddie Stern, Tony Visconti, and Iggy Pop. Including over 150 photos, ephemera, and a color photo insert, The Art of the Straight Line features Reed’s unpublished writings on the technique, practice, and purpose of martial arts, as well as essays, observations, and riffs on meditation and life.

Traces the supermodel and actress's life, from growing up in an underprivileged community in Venezuela to working for some of fashion's most iconic designers, as well as her struggle to hide the truth about her sexuality from her family.

Robert Twigger, poet and travel author, was in search of a new way up England when he stumbled across the Great North Line. From Christchurch on the South Coast to Old Sarum to Stonehenge, to Avebury, to Notgrove barrow, to Meon Hill in the midlands, to Thor's Cave, to Arbor Low stone circle, to Mam Tor, to Ilkley in Yorkshire and its three stone circles and the Swastika Stone, to several forts and camps in Northumberland to Lindisfarne (plus about thirty more sites en route). A single dead straight line following 1 degree 50 West up Britain. No other north-south straight line goes through so many ancient sites of such significance. Was it just a suggestive coincidence or were they built intentionally? Twigger walks the line, which takes him through Birmingham, Halifax and Consett as well as Salisbury Plain, the Peak district, and the Yorkshire moors. With a planning schedule that focused more on reading about shamanism and beat poetry than hardening his feet up, he sets off ever hopeful. He wild-camps along the way, living like a homeless bum, with a heart that starts stifled but ends up soaring with the beauty of life. He sleeps in a prehistoric cave, falls into a river, crosses a 'suicide viaduct' and gets told off by a farmer's wife for trespassing; but in this simple life he finds woven gold. He walks with others and he walks alone, ever alert to the incongruities of the edgelands he is journeying through.

The author argues that we have reached the nadir of the adaptive range of our industrialised world. Now faced with an unsustainable trilemma of social, organisational and economic complexity, we have entered an era in which the rules we have previously organised our lives around no longer apply. Leaving us with both a design problem and a design challenge which we must urgently solve. By describing an entirely new way for true social, economic and organisational innovation to happen, No straight lines presents a revolutionary logic and an inspiring plea for a more human-centric world.

McManus considers evidence from anthropology, particle physics, the history of medicine, and the notebooks of Leonardo to answer questions like: Why are most people right-handed? Why does European writing go from left to right, while Arabic and Hebrew go from right to left? And how do we know that Jack the Ripper was left-handed?

At some point in our lives, most of us have been lost. How does this happen? What are the limits of our ability to find our way? Do we have an innate sense of direction? 'How people get lost' reviews the psychology and neuroscience of navigation. It starts with a history of studies looking at how organisms solve mazes. It then reviews contemporary studies of spatial cognition, and the wayfinding abilities of adults and children. It then considers how specific parts of the brain provide a cognitive map and a neural compass. This book also considers the neurology of spatial disorientation, and the tendency of patients with Alzheimer's disease to lose their way. Within the book, the author considers that, perhaps we get lost simply because our brain's compass becomes misoriented. This book is written for anyone with an interest in navigation and the brain. It assumes no specialised knowledge of neuroscience, but covers recent advances in our understanding of how the brain represents space.

This book argues that the performance-based work in the featured case studies contributes to the construction of food democracy where the public takes back decision-making in shaping the food system. It explores how contemporary artists translate scientific research about local and global agricultural issues into life stories that inform and engage their audiences and, in so doing, transform passive food consumers into proactive food citizens. The pairing of performing and farmscapes (complex webs of farmlands and storylines) enables artists to use embodied practices to encourage audiences to imagine a just and sustainable agri-food system and to collaborate on making it a reality. The book arranges the case studies on a trajectory that moves from projects that foreground knowledge acquisition to ones that emphasize social engagement by creating conversations and coalitions between farming and nonfarming communities to a final one that pairs protest art and political activism to achieve legally-binding changes in the agricultural landscape.