In my dreams, this is what I (want to) look like.
I’m a generational anomaly in that I first glimpsed the erotic body not in images (Maxim, Wet Hot American Summer, nipples on Fashion Television), but in text. We did not have cable, nor were we allowed to watch movies rated so much as PG-13, and my father, swear on His Father, never once had porn in the house. But I had a library card and an imagination, and in the stacks of adult romance I’d hide and seek and read, and read and read and read, until a sneaking wetness told me I understood.
Speaking in Tongues, by SNP
I stopped being an avid visitor/reader of the website The New Inquiry, ever since I read this article about them/their club on The New York Times (personal reasons — don’t ask). However, a writer — whom I am guiltily obsessed with — wrote an essay for them recently (my favourite excerpt, above), so of course, I read it. And even though the subject of the essay is something that I am not particularly interested in, I still thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s the way this writer uses her words, I think, and the rhythm in her sentences that kept me reading. Her ideas, too (for this essay, as well as in general), are really interesting.
Go, read her stuff.
— From the movie Torch Song Trilogy (1988)
(Source: precisquotidien, via erichcanvogue)
RESOLUTIONS [Revised Jan 10th]:
Sleep before 3 AM.
Drink more water and tea (and milk?), and less coffee/sugary drinks.
Always be on time.
Buy only the essentials (except for magazines, books, publications).
Document (take pictures, write).
Unplug from technology when not needed.
Intern, volunteer. Do more.
Quiet time: 5 minutes everyday.
Be interested in people.
Lose 5 lbs. by March 2012.
Read my course readings.
Start essays one week before they are due.
Avoid using the word “hate.”
Type all my words and sentences properly.
Read slowly: understand every word/phrase/sentence. Don’t dismiss (writer’s) thoughts.
Create something. Anything. And actually show it to people.
Today’s ideal social form is not the commune or the movement or even the individual creator as such. It’s the small business.
Virtuosic guitar-playing skills + smooth, captivating voice + damn-good looks + awesome/cool personality. Shoot, Annie Clark. You’ve got it all.
Watched her live yesterday, December 15 at the Phoenix Concert Theatre, and…she crowd-surfed. I meaaan, HOW COOL IS SHE?
“Gentle” may not be the most fashionable adjective in the intense, often harsh fashion world. Dries Van Noten, though is an exception: he, and his clothes, are most definitely gentle. Cacophony is not his thing. The subtle blend of romanticism, exoticism and eccentricity that exudes from any piece of clothing with his label on it; the cozy atmosphere of his eclectic shops, conceived not as temples but as houses or bazaars; the dreamy air of his shows, which are forays into a parallel dimension of pure, multi sensory joy: all of this comes from someone who expresses himself in whispers rather than shouts. “There is so much of myself as a person in the things I create, it’s almost scary,” he says with a laugh. “Sometimes I feel like I am baring it all in front of the audience.” The serene flow of his speech is accented by a piercing Belgian “r”. When he talks, he looks straight into my eyes. This is the first time I have met the famously reserved Van Noten in person, and it is the man, not the designer, who I hope to get to know.