17 November 2017

a word



to the woman who sat behind me and sobbed during the noon showing of Lady Bird, I feel you.

16 November 2017

tabs



six tabs currently open on my computer:

1. cooking with zora neale hurston

2. muriel's wedding is a feminist masterpiece and more relevant than ever

3. stephen shore on why young photographers really need to start with film

4. the black excellence of khalil joseph

5. susan sontag on being a writer

6. whitewashing nola

look, I really would like to read all these articles but am having trouble finding the time, what with all the buzzfeed quizzes and the netflix shows.

to all seven of you who are reading, please vote: which one should I read first.

p.s. I am done with question marks.

p.p.s. I have only three free articles left over at the new yorker. please choose responsibly.

15 November 2017

and now tomorrow is today

and what I can tell you about my time last year in new orleans with friends is that, in the simplest of terms, it made me glad to be alive.

and not just because we took the train down and talked and talked (and talked) and stared out the window at all the tiny southern towns along the way. or because the place we stayed at felt like a hundred year-old three-storied dollhouse complete with a cherry red spiral staircase, a bed tucked up in the attic and a wall full of old mirrors.

and not just because when we ate beignets at cafe du monde, we realized that everything (and everyone) seemed to be covered in a fine dust of powdered sugar, including the boots our server was wearingor because when we wandered into a downtown casino and I gambled for the very first time in life, I won exactly one cent. and have the payout receipt to prove it. or because we rode bikes down magazine street all the way to audubon park and felt like we were nine years-old all over again.

and not just because music was everywhere and everything tasted like love and for exactly 72 hours, we meandered up and down streets and through old cemeteries with no particular route or schedule in mind.

not just because of all these things, but because (and this is not news)-- real time with real friends is like nothing else in this world and the older I get the more I realize how profoundly important it is. cheaper than therapy and with more laughing and if you do it in new orleans, there will probably be breakfast sandwiches made with doughnuts. 

14 November 2017

13 November 2017

sometimes you need to hear it



(scrawled on the beams of the brooklyn bridge, found while walking across it on the 29th of july, 2016)

12 November 2017

things considered, over the course of the last seven days

how much banana bread is too much banana bread

can I pull off stripes

do I even care if I can't, since I will wear them anyway

can I convince everyone I know to go see the florida project

will everyone fall in love with it like I did

will I care if they don't

can I convince everyone I know to shun facebook

will I care if they don't

should I start a professional facebook deactivators club

should we have satin jackets with our names on the back

will I care if I'm the only member

is this president real

are we still living this nightmare

will anyone notice if I just hide in the bathroom and read all day

can I just wear leotards in place of clean underwear

would it just be faster to order new underwear from amazon than to go to the laundromat

could I live with myself if I actually did that

will I ever not be going to the laundromat

can I lowkey audit ava's AP lit class

can the marigold be my new signature flower

how much soup is too much soup

11 November 2017

girls on film









new orleans with friends, october 2016. new orleans with friends, I highly recommend it. 

(along with a polaroid land 250 and some fuji FP-3000b, if you can swing it)

(more nola to come, more more more)

10 November 2017

long live instant film



wildly inspiring me:

1. p.v.'s polaroids of people

2. matthew james o'brien's instant columbia

3. anje niemi's short stories

4. kyler zeleny's found polaroids

5. willem baptist's instant dreams