ryan beatty for attitude magazine (2020)
honestly fucks me up that when ppl see me, my face goes through the filter of their perception (curated by their very specific life experiences n their unique point of view). basically if i truly saw myself with someone else’s brain, i probably wouldn’t realize who i was looking at. my eyes don’t mean the same to others as they do to me. everyone reads each other in a new way and it’s so uncontrollable
keith haring you were a man after my own heart
6thlovelanguage-deactivated2020
Jenny Slate, Little Weirds
My dad kissing his friend in 1981
actual real life disaster
A drawing a day keeps my soul okay. 🌷 / from sketchbook with love
2018 © Livia Falcaru
I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you” when someone sneezes, a leftover from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying. And sometimes, when you spill lemons from your grocery bag, someone else will help you pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other. We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot, and to say thank you to to the person holding it. To smile at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder, and for the driver in the red pick-up to let us pass. We have so little of each other, now. So far from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange. What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here, have my seat,” “Go ahead - you first,” “I like your hat.”
- Danusha Laméris, “Small Kindnesses"
Richard Siken, from Wishbone; Crush, 2005
Clare Turlay Newberry (1903-1970)
Cat Napping, before 1940
Georgia O’Keeffe, in a letter to Russel Vernon Hunter, from Georgia O’Keeffe: Art and Letters
Art by René Magritte
gotta calm down and let the universe do its thing
literally there is nothing i love more in the world than doing little mundane activities with people like cleaning my room while my friend sits on the bed and we gossip together or going grocery shopping or showing someone clothes i’ve bought or cooking while i sit on the countertop and we sing badly. actually like never mind post canceled because i think i just described intimacy and domestic life with another person that’s literally it . that’s what i crave. pat of butter seeking her hot knife here!!!!!!
A page from my journal
U can only see so many caved in abandoned farmhouses and hallowed out cars on the stretch of nowheresville midwestern roads before u start to wish u were like. In love with someone
when lorde said “i knew that teenagers sparkled. i knew they knew something children didn’t know, and adults ended up forgetting. since 13 i’ve spent my life building this giant teenage museum, mausoleum maybe, dutifully wolfishly writing every moment down, and repeating it all back like folklore. and now there isn’t any more of it.”
“She remembered it was August and they say August brings bad luck. But September would arrive one day like an exit. And September was for some reason a lighter and more transparent month.”
— Clarice Lispector, from The Complete Stories; “In Search for a Dignity,”