1. (Source: dailyholzer)


  2. heartthieves:

    evoke your muse a little everyday 


  3. chelseahodson:

    The End of Inventory

    Beginning January 1, 2013, and spanning 657 consecutive days, I’ve catalogued every individual object I own.

    Today at the Imagine Science Film Festival, I performed the text in its entirety, which took over seven hours. In total, Inventory is 40,071 words. Photos and full video of the performance are forthcoming from the Marina Abramovic Institute, but the final four hours are currently viewable here.

    Thank you for reading.

    (via altlitgossip)


  4. Aka me

    (Source: dboybaker, via sumere)


  5. I asked my ex, now good friend, if she would ever have an open relationship and she said, “No, I don’t think I could do that” then after a pause and a smile, “but what about love affair friendships?” She went on to describe an impenetrable fortress of female friendship, her own group of best mates who’d known each other since school and had supported and loved each other through almost all of their lifetimes. They sounded far more bonded to, and in love with one another, than their respective husbands. It struck me that we don’t have the language to reflect the diversity and breadth of connections we experience. Why is sex the thing we tend to define a relationship by, when in fact it can be simple casual fun without a deep emotional transaction? Why do we say “just friends” when, for some of us, a friendship goes deeper? Can we define a new currency of commitment that celebrates and values this? Instead of having multiple confusing interpretations of the same word, could we have different words? What if we viewed our relationships as a pyramid structure with our primary partner at the top and a host of lovers, friends, spiritual soul mates, colleagues, and acquaintances beneath that?

  6. likeafieldmouse:

    Tracey Emin - Exorcism of the Last Painting I Ever Made (1996)

    Tracey Emin lived in a locked room in a gallery for fourteen days, with nothing but a lot of empty canvases and art materials, in an attempt to reconcile herself with paintings. Viewed through a series of wide-angle lenses embedded in the walls, Emin could be watched, stark naked, shaking off her painting demons. Starting by making images like the artists she admired (i.e. Egon Schiele, Edvard Munch, Yves Klein), Emin’s two-week art-therapy session resulted in a massive outpouring of autobiographical images, and the discovery of a style all her own. The room was extracted in its entirety, and now exists as an installation work.”

    (via craphorse)


  7. (Source: mauvelipstick, via rubybrunton)


  8. darksilenceinsuburbia:

    Ken Unsworth

    Suspended Stone Circle

    (via sumere)


  9. killkylee:


    A week ago I took a night flight into LA to stay, the plane descending into a heatwave that had me peeling off my leggings in the car on the way to somebody’s spare room.

    The apartment I’m typing this in is enormous and the LA river is even bigger than it looks in Drive when you wander…


  10. an infinity opens: “othering” [means] finding anything..individual in his accomplishments becomes..impossible, for he could..as easily be anyone else, anywhere and in this he adorns all names.
    — To a dusty shelf we aspire: 8.1.13 on “the complete chance of outcome and circumstance” (via alterities)

    (via destruya)


  11. It is not wise to find symbols in everything that one sees. It makes life too full of terrors.
    — Oscar Wilde (via likeafieldmouse)

  12. (Source: thebatass, via buttgirl69)


  13. miratortilla:

    my poem from women in clothes 


  14. jizzb:

    A good way to feel better about this world is by remembering that Patricia Lockwood exists in it.

    (via underwater-stepmom)


  15. My Least Favorite Trope (and this post will include spoilers for The Lego Movie, Guardians of the Galaxy, The Matrix, Western Civilization, and—cod help me—Bulletproof Monk*.) is the thing where there’s an awesome, smart, wonderful, powerful female character who by all rights ought to be the Chosen One and the hero of the movie, who is tasked with taking care of some generally ineffectual male character who is, for reasons of wish fulfillment, actually the person the film focuses on. She mentors him, she teaches him, and she inevitably becomes his girlfriend… and he gets the job she wanted: he gets to be the Chosen One even though she’s obviously far more qualified. And all he has to do to get it and deserve it is Man Up and Take Responsibility.

    And that’s it. Every god-damned time. The mere fact of naming the films above and naming the trope gives away the entire plot and character arc of every single movie.