(Source: steinfield)
![walkwhilereading:
Philip Larkin by Brittany Cerullo. [Link]
One of my best friends favorites.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m2u9jcIIhc1qzvsijo1_1280.png)
My friend, she used to have this painting in her room;
I stared at it laying on her bed, on the phone,
the last time I had my last conversation
with my ex-.
A 9 year old boy - who built an elaborate cardboard arcade inside his dad’s used auto part store - is about to have the best day of his life.
i love humans, i love LA, i love these people.
this song deserves a really great video,
but doesn’t have one yet.
At Kudu my nose if sniffing a walloping whiff at the conversation next table.
“I got a Prebyterian church…these kids, who I have known since birth…well, I was always raised that…you have nice clothes, then you wear them, and I know these kids have nice clothes, so why aren’t they wearing them…?”
Have to stop now, restrain from villainizing this lady who looks harmless. I’m thinking the same thing I’ve thought since I saw my middle school pastor “get away with” sandals and jeans in the great palace of God, the basketball court of the private school that is also part of my parent’s church- what does image have to do with attendance?
Gray-haired man walks by to his own table, who once had two holes in the jeans he’s wearing, now finely stitched with red plaid. Oddly a hypocrite, I want to ask him where he got that done. I own a pair of jeans I find dear to me, and desire their repair. Does asking him where he got them fixed compromise the way I feel generally, forget the question mark.
The Portland Review: While You Were Out →
Voila called and said you’re passé, offering to return your lab coat and reading glasses; Azalea called and said you’re next to drop your petals to the ground, but have heart, there’s always next year as long as you keep your roots; the rain
called, said there’s no use hiding in the house, and…
Man. What a song!
The Portland Review: When I dream of a war →
by Neesa Sonoquie
What I am saying is that my mind is eucalyptus
trees on a beach while I am sleeping through
another life. When I wake up crying invisible tears
I can tell you there are children in them. I know
this sounds sentimental, but frilly pink frosting on a cake
is…
Looks a lot like Stephanie.
” We are lonesome animals. We spend all our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say - and to feel - “Yes, that’s the way it is, or at least, thats the way I feel it. You’re not as alone as you thought”“
-John Steinbeck, “In Awe of Words,” The Exonian, 75th Anniversary edition, Exeter University (1930)
Photo Bettmann/Corbis
The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image. If in loving them we do not love what they are, but only their potential likeness to ourselves, then we do not love them: we only love the reflection of ourselves we find in them.
To the trained eye, this is Jeff Tweedy. But in some other reality, it is actually my good pal Dan Hanf, or, more specifically: Dan in twenty years and/or the physical manifestation of Dan’s soul, minus the whole “I make great music but am kind of a dick” thing, which is a huge and mostly ignorant judgment call I am making based on his history as explained by Googling him, but am making nonetheless, apologies if you’re reading this and are his child…I noticed this because they were on Austin City Limits last night, so while playing Trivial Pursuit (circa 1982) with my family, I got my dad to flip to it. He listens, says, “So…is this guy supposed to be able to sing?” and we had to have a conversation about that. Then I began wondering why I was defending Wilco so staunchly when, prior to the situation, I hadn’t listened to them with any consistency. And because Google is such a natural place to go to after such an incident, this is where I ended up.
Other than the man-crush this narrator has for the artist, and the melodracumentary at the end there with the hand-holding exhibition, this is the best video I could find on what James Turrell does with his time. Happily it was the video I was looking for, the one I saw in a class I took (there is a part 1 worth looking at too), and I was looking for it because I thought we passed one of the Skyspaces in Texas. We didn’t! So that’s good, or that would’ve been not good, to have been so close and not seen one. But now I’ve found who James Turrell is and what he does again; all in all, what has gone down in order for me to get to this point has been positive. It really gets going around 2:35.
