Today I took pictures, read a book, spent time outside. The pictures are lovely and bright, yes, but I wish there were a way to convey the scents to you, the wonderful smells of spring, the breeze coming off the river, the dress-ready weather.
My town has never been more beautiful and yes, I have the time of year to thank for this. This is weather for falling in love, though, and I’d like not to do that any time soon.
arod:
Filed under DUUUH of the Day. Though, as NYMag says, ” The moral of the story is, if Terry Richardson had a small dick, none of this would’ve ever happened.”
This story was really disturbing.
At first I thought of TR as “edgy” and “oh so unique” but after my studio photography class (and a lot more exploration of classy nudes and even pornography) I realized he was an overglorified (perverted) pornographer, and not the good kind that you’d want to get dinner with in a strange town (ahem). This article just affirms that belief. Sure he produces some interesting pictures but over all it’s all about him. His celebrity pictures aren’t portraits but rather him with an arm draped around someone famous and smiling. And how many pictures have we seen of some young looking girl holding or posing near his cock? Too many, honestly, for him to be considered a fashion photographer any more. Even if these girls aren’t pressured, or, as some PR rep might end up saying gently persuaded, into posing naked with him, he should be honest about when type of photographer he is. Fashion photography requires something very specific: FASHION. I’m sorry, but a thong is not fashion. A beer can is not fashion. A cock is not fashion. At this point, lable yourself a pornographer who happens to take pictures of celebrities. Of course, that might just give a bad name to pornographers…
I saw your name and my stomach started to churn. I decided to investigate further, despite the feeling I was going to vomit. And lo! you still get it! Of course, of course you do. And if I were to explain that to anyone it would be so hard, especially to you. And even though it’s been over a year I can’t push down this terrible feeling. It’s only been two weeks from him and I already feel OK to text him and ask what that Indian restaurant was because my friend from high school wants some good Indian food since she’s never had it, ever. But I still don’t feel like I can talk to you, even if I absolutely needed to, even if it were in person, by chance, that we saw each other.
I don’t know why some things are so much harder, so much worse than others. I do know that you’d say things like he said, say things like “No, you don’t, you’d be wasting your talent” and “I want you to take care of me” and mean them both so sincerely despite the contradiction. I do know that you’d at least smile when I stopped everything to read to you the sentence, paragraph, page, that made me exclaim aloud, even on the subway. I do know that things would have been wonderful if it’d been the right time.
(via gemmaoclock)
The Modern Art Museum here in town is having a Monroe exhibit right now and while I think half of it was lewd and disrespectful, the other half was so incredibly wonderful. This photograph, printed hugely, was included. It’s made it into my top five Monroe portraits, for sure.
Scarlett Johansson and Liev Shreiber
A View from the Bridge was such, SUCH a good play, and their acting was certainly part of it
Colors and the Kids, by Cat Power
(all this pretty weather, all this pretty music)
I could have sworn I loved you in 6th grade.
Fell to pieces when you switched schools.Found you again, and would reroute my walk to classes just to see you.
Heard of you through friends of friends.And right now you’re laying next to me 6 years later. It was worth it.
This actually felt like more of a punch in the stomach. You may know who this would be about for me
This Thursday at Poets House in Battery Park City, Manhattan you’ll have the opportunity to hear two Louisiana poets (one of them state Poet Laureate!) speak and read about Louisiana, it’s poetic culture and how it’s changed since their childhoods. Both poets know the physical, emotional and historical landscapes of Louisiana personally and will be wonderful to hear if you have the means.
Details
Thursday, March 11, 7:00pm
Imagining Louisiana: A Conversation & Reading
with Darrell Bourque & Sheryl St. Germain
Moderated by James TolanTwo Louisiana poets discuss the history, challenges and future of Louisianan poetry, examining the influence of culture and landscape as well as the work of Cajun and Creole poets.
$10, $7 for students and seniors, Free to Poets House Members
I’ll be there with camera and notebook in hand so if anyone in the NY area wants to come by you can also say hello =]
she drew in the sand half a heart and spilled wine over the leaves
of summer. driving her car into the seven/eleven she dreamed
of whispering in the ear of a baseball player asking him to
stumble upon her tattoo, a thing not easy in itself to do without
invitation, with half a heart. the dream blue on green,
making yellow in defiance of afternoon sunlight among the thorns
and broken shards of glass without invitation, with half a
heart. she brought him color, and luck of proper wing and sun.
he imagined she loved him despite his illnesses, remembered visits
from her at the asylum on sundays bringing packages of coconut
without invitation, with half a heart. he spends his days asking
only that i never mention her aloud. so i take my box of crayons
and mark over the empty places trying so hard to match the
colors, knowing i will never fool anyone without invitation, with
half a heart.
I really like stories where someone is sick like this.
There are things that I miss, of course. The sex is the first thing that comes to mind, and free museum admission. But there’s also the tangling legs before falling asleep and someone to wander around museums with. Also reading aloud in the morning, laughing about classical feminism. I also miss the potential and so many things that simply didn’t happen yet. Can you miss things that never were? Apparently.
But I’m happy despite this occasional sense of lost potential and all these bad dreams. Over all I can say things are good. This spring is bringing change.
