Friday, September 28, 2012
21 and fun
Wednesday. Jen turns 21. Holding her glass of wine about to taste alcohol for the first time in her life. "No one told me it was going to burn. I don't like it."
Thursday. "To dissemble your feelings, to control your face, to do what everyone else was doing, was an instinctive reaction." - 1984, Orwell. First day of school. "Science will explain the phenomenon, but art captures the way it feels." Just another reminder that art is completely necessary in this world.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
the start
Started the day at 4:27 AM, 7 minutes before my alarm. I thought it would be entertaining to listen to the Scissor Sisters on full blast. Nothing like a Kiki wake up call to get excited about life before sunrise.
Ending the night with Rufus Wainwright's Across the Universe. In conclusion, nothing is going to change my world. Although, maybe I want it to.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
being stark, being blank
when you know you're just suppose to feel anything at all.. and you can't.
"Maybe that’s why I’ve stayed in passive voice — to avoid deciding. Whom to tell, when to tell them, what to do now. I’ve thought more than once in the past two days that the numbness isn’t healthy. “Cry,” I will myself, using the imperative. “Collapse in a sobbing heap next to your bed and exorcise the anger and the fear and, most of all, the overwhelming, hateful, puncturing guilt.” I even sat in my apartment making a pooping face, trying hard to disintegrate into anguish, which seems like what a normal person ought to do. But, passively, nothing is felt. Even though so much (and indeed, frighteningly little) is known. No tears are produced, no shame lamented." - the tc, Sean Risse
"Maybe that’s why I’ve stayed in passive voice — to avoid deciding. Whom to tell, when to tell them, what to do now. I’ve thought more than once in the past two days that the numbness isn’t healthy. “Cry,” I will myself, using the imperative. “Collapse in a sobbing heap next to your bed and exorcise the anger and the fear and, most of all, the overwhelming, hateful, puncturing guilt.” I even sat in my apartment making a pooping face, trying hard to disintegrate into anguish, which seems like what a normal person ought to do. But, passively, nothing is felt. Even though so much (and indeed, frighteningly little) is known. No tears are produced, no shame lamented." - the tc, Sean Risse
Friday, September 21, 2012
when you're an addict
a short and in no way comprehensive view into the various cups of coffee i've enjoyed. sometimes shared, sometimes alone, but always a moment to be present and breathe.
the tragic art of coffee and addiction:
the tragic art of coffee and addiction:
Aix-en-Provence
Time Donuts, Lyon
Little, Lyon
4éme, Paris
4éme, Paris
San Remo, Italy
Nice
Four Barrel, San Francisco
Blue Bottle, San Fransisco
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