December 20, 2017 · Wanderlust
There are no mistakes only happy accidents Bob Ross What we’ve got here is the absolute American catastrophe rendered in one perfect frozen moment, a car smashed against railroad tracks like some kind of sculptural fuck you to manifest destiny itself. And there, in the foreground, is Sharka, the Portuguese Water Dog who clearly gives […]
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November 28, 2017 · Absolute Solipsism
So here’s a Bertolt Brecht poem, and here’s the thing: where he says acting, plug in whatever the hell you’re actually doing… writing, painting, fucking, dying, making breakfast, making art, making sense of the wreckage. And that instant he’s talking about? That’s whatever you’re trying to bring into the world before it crushes you. Same […]
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November 21, 2017 · Engineering
The eye exists in its primitive state. The marvels of the earth a hundred feet high, the marvels of the sea a hundred feet deep, have for their witness only the wild eye that when in need of colours refers simply to the rainbow. It is present at the conventional exchange of signals that the […]
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October 30, 2017 · Wanderlust
So fine was the morning except for a streak of wind here and there that the sea and sky looked all one fabric, as if sails were stuck high up in the sky, or the clouds had dropped down into the sea. Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse Davenport Beach, it’s not some tourist trap with overpriced […]
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October 29, 2017 · Wanderlust
The thing about watching a dog run, really run, is it strips away all the pretense we wrap ourselves in. No existential dread, no performance anxiety, just pure kinetic joy translated into muscle and breath. Sharka doesn’t give a shit about my Instagram feed or my quarterly earnings report for the board. She’s a four-legged […]
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October 16, 2017 · The City
Museums are incredible places to fall in love. Or maybe just to realize you already have. Lindsey and I are at the Legion of Honor, standing in front of Klimt and Rodin, two guys who understood that the body is both temple and ruin, that desire is inseparable from decay, that gold leaf can’t hide […]
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October 8, 2017 · Industries
Life is a whim of several billion cells to be you for a while Marx, (Groucho) The whole fucking premise is so simple it hurts: you take artists, real ones, not the kind pumping out content for the algorithm gods, and you put them somewhere beautiful and remote and you say, “Here. No deadlines. No […]
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