"Context and time do sometimes matter. The Paul Simon who, on a bus en route to New York City told his sleeping girlfriend that he was empty and aching and he didn’t know why, that Simon belongs to our parents. My generation may love him but he’s not ours. The Simon who is soft in the middle (or at least feels an affinity for men who happen to be), however, the one who reminds young women of money, who has been divorced and has a kid to prove it, and who has the means to catch a cab uptown and take it all the way downtown talking dispassionately while doing so about the comings and goings of breakdowns, that Simon belongs to us as much as he does to our folks because he is our folks. Not our folks the way they were before we were born, but the way they were when we first knew them, as they were losing their edge and feeling maybe a little insecure about that loss; our folks as we knew them when we ourselves were entering that era of childhood which finally allowed for reflection and the retention of memory and for the level of awareness that clued us into the fact that a baby with a baboon heart was something to wonder at and to then distantly — vaguely — mourn when she died three weeks after her baboon heart first beat inside her body; this was our folks the way they were when they were trying to raise us right: to say please and thank you and to only send food back under dire circumstances; the way they were when we really saw them for the first time. At least, in retrospect. Now that we’re grown, that first introduction lingers. We also recognize not just our parents in the words of those songs, but ourselves and our own impending midlives that loiter like shortening shadows on the horizon."
In Which There’s A Girl In New York City Who Calls Herself The Human Trampoline by Nell Boeshcenstein, a beautiful appreciation of Paul Simon’s Graceland, on the 25th anniversary of its release. (via boringoldraphael)
Why on Earth did I tear up reading this? It’s been a weird night, folks, but here’s some pretty words to read.
(via boringoldraphael)
Craft Spells /// “Party Talk” /// Idle Labor
Sick cover-art nod to Power, Corruption & Lies, bro.
See also: Smith Westerns cover-art.
See also: Miracle Fortress cover-art.
I queued this, but then I was hit by a car. It’s cool, I changed the bits that are no longer relevant.
As you know, the 30 Day Challenge defeated me. I’ve rallied up the courage to surface on Tumblr, and I guess this is actually my public announcement that I want to be taken seriously again.
The next couple weeks are going to be a throwback to ASMSA days, stress and workload-wise, and I’m rather looking forward to it. I haven’t worked this hard toward a deadline since the summer, and I feel like I’ve been letting myself down a lot lately when it comes to accomplishing the tasks at hand in a timely manner.
So, I’m creating a partition between my former ways and my better self. with a bicycling trip to pet some sheep on Salt Spring Island. On Friday, after two lab exams, a paper, and a presentation, I’ll be on my merry way. I’ll watch some hockey, make a smoothie, get my nails did, eat some Indian food, drink a lot of tea, and spend time with my roomies.
Also, you’ll probably be seeing more personal (yuck) posts from me, because there’s this boy who reads my tumblr and he blogs and I like him.
Mid-College Crisis
I have begun to question everything I do. I feel like shit, I feel like a piece of shit and I feel like everything I make is shit. I feel like I have all sorts of ideas but never have the patience to do things right and I’m worrying that I’m not learning ANYTHING at all. I keep considering my options and I know what I want to do but I feel like I can’t do it. I’ve never felt this insecure about my work before, or about my goals.
What the hell this is me right now too
I don’t even care about punctuation anymore
You know, if I’ve learned anything, it’s don’t eat at Taco Bell/KFC joint restaurants.
(Source: ethicsofmeh)
This is on its way to being a Gone With The Wind bookmark. Sadly, my arm is tired of sawing so there might not be much more progress on it today.
Looking pretty!
You and the bookmark.
Day 15
I’m here for my frands. Other than that, I follow a tumblr called fuckyeahdioramas for the occasional extravagant diorama and The Made Shop for pretty design.
Day 14
One of my earliest memories is of hitting my head on the inside of a covered slide. I hit it and I felt like I was seeing everything through quickly changing coloured gels. That probably doesn’t make sense, but it was very psychedelic.
