That's not my name.

downbeatlove: when did we stop coloring?

Thu, 16 May 2013 19:47:54 -0600

downbeatlove:

when did we stop coloring?

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Thu, 16 May 2013 19:46:59 -0600

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Thu, 16 May 2013 19:43:13 -0600

This Year

Mon, 13 May 2013 20:10:00 -0600

I get you, Britney. How can anyone do anything worthwhile with all this HAIR

Hilarious Yoga Mat for Sale Ad on Craigslist

Sun, 12 May 2013 09:45:23 -0600

Hilarious Yoga Mat for Sale Ad on Craigslist:

courtneycjohnson:

It looks like someone in Seattle is selling a yoga mat for $1. The mat was only used once and comes along with this hilarious usage timeline detailing the seller’s experience in a hot yoga class.

Ha ha ha

katyachiroptera: Just went to purchase my early afternoon diet coke, went to pull out 85 cents out...

Sun, 12 May 2013 09:43:43 -0600

katyachiroptera:

Just went to purchase my early afternoon diet coke, went to pull out 85 cents out of my wallet. Ended up handing the cashier 50 cents and two craisins.

theparisreview: Before he died our father asked to be lefton...

Sun, 12 May 2013 09:41:23 -0600

theparisreview:

Before he died our father asked to be left
on the dining room table. It was difficult,
but we’ve learned to eat our meals around him,
though at times someone
still puts a fork into his leg.

Our guests become uncomfortable
when they see him on the table.
They ask if he’s asleep.
I always say yes, and that’s why they talk
in a whisper for the rest of the night.

Although he no longer brings a paycheck home
he provides for us in small ways.
We dust him daily; change his clothes weekly.
He no longer shouts, stalks the house in
longjohns, or comes home drunk Friday night.

We put a flower in his lapel every Sunday.
In the spring we take him outside
and air him out.
Then we buy him a new suit and put
a clove of garlic in his pocket for luck.

At Christmas our lives revolve around our father.
We wire him with colored lights,
sprinkle angel’s dust in his hair,
hang glass bulbs from his fingers and toes,
lay presents at his feet.

—John Pijewski, “Our Father”
Photography Credit Larry Sultan

hitrecord: “Please Stay” Illustration by Lea Z.

Sun, 12 May 2013 09:38:29 -0600

hitrecord:

“Please Stay”

Illustration by Lea Z.

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Sun, 12 May 2013 09:36:35 -0600

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Tue, 16 Apr 2013 09:31:04 -0600

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Mon, 15 Apr 2013 21:15:14 -0600

4.15

Mon, 15 Apr 2013 21:05:00 -0600

Let’s start the torture. Silly little things, nothing you can’t walk away from. I win every time because I can cut without flinching. I must have a fixation with this feeling of sucking in breath— the angular door one’s mouth assumes, how the air spills in and almost suffocates you, lines up against the walls and leans back to make more room. I must have a fixation with lines, with things that blossom too quickly and then fall away into corners. Corners always lead somewhere else, thank God. Sometimes I use the mouth of a bottle, I peer through it, and I can see where they go, the corners— most often to the side I need to reach that I thought I was already on. “Drink this”, “Eat me”, but they only make you “too much” to do anything. Maybe if I stare hard enough, maybe if the light was on, maybe if I wasn’t so good at winning.

"The problem stems from believing one had any control to begin with."

Sun, 14 Apr 2013 09:26:00 -0600

“The problem stems from believing one had any control to begin with.”

4/7/13

Sun, 07 Apr 2013 10:09:00 -0600

Nothing like Robert De Niro breaking into your bathroom at a party and attacking you.

Nothing like house-sitting for your neighbors and realizing they have been overtaken by miniature futuristic aliens. Nothing like being forced to go to war with them because they have also overtaken your cat.

Somewhere in there: class, activity workbooks, and a crossword homework you forgot to fill out— again.

"One should sit quietly and let the thing invent itself."

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 10:47:09 -0600

““One should sit quietly and let the thing invent itself.””

- Iris Murdoch (via theparisreview)

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Thu, 04 Apr 2013 10:46:29 -0600

d-i-a-b-o-l-i-q-u-e-s: Dovima by Richard Avedon, 1955.

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 10:45:44 -0600

d-i-a-b-o-l-i-q-u-e-s:

Dovima by Richard Avedon, 1955.

fur on the wind, fur in the wound: Los Angeles Wildlife 3

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 10:45:09 -0600

fur on the wind, fur in the wound: Los Angeles Wildlife 3:

katyachiroptera:

Out on my stoop for a bit of (terrible, it went into the sink right after) wine and I spied three amazing sizable moths dipping and feeding off my neighbor’s amazing flowers. The moved too quickly for me to take a proper picture, a mere second or two per blossom. I have no idea what kind of moths…

kateoplis: Joakim Eskildsen

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 16:57:41 -0600

kateoplis:

Joakim Eskildsen

April 1st.

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 16:53:12 -0600

A boy doesn’t wake up, and the sky is as blue as ever.

We try to be magicians and sometimes we forget that we are not. Our magic is just a slight of hand— travel-sized aspirin, a palette of talc. Sometimes stronger.

And now he will not wake up.

How fragile these tiny blue webs are— a refrain for every time I stretch my wrist up as an offering today. Bring them peace. As if at the end of my thumb and middle finger were tied tiny cymbals with string. Cymbals that sound like church bells every time I bring them together.

We go to a church, albeit incidentally. Maybe it is from all of the praying, the cymbals crashing, calling home. A stranger’s voice can be a sanctuary when a sanctuary is just a room made out of stone.

April 1st, at last, burned itself up. Another offering. Black ashes against the red of an unlit match. Fill my head with more voices. Touch my arm to let me know I am here at this bar.

A man notices a woman and his friend asks her friend to dance. A slight of hand. They step out into the early morning and that is something to be grateful for: a beginning.