lightness

depressive eroticism

My father's rich, my momma's good looking. Right? And I can play the Blues. I've never suffered and don't intend to suffer.

Standing for nothing has the obvious appeal of making you impossible to pin down. There’s something very chic about smoking a cigarette outside a bar and being all like whatever. You’re playing a game of hide-and-seek with life, and you’re hiding.

Too often, clichéd experiences are maligned for being “basic” when they’re actually just normal (and often quite good). A secure person can unironically enjoy a pumpkin spice latte. If you’re on page 37 of the SSENSE sale, you may never know the happiness of going to Target to get some fall candles. But I hope you do. (I hope we all do.) Red roses... See more

On June 7, 1926, after Gaudí’s workday ended, he set out toward a church in the Gothic Quarter where he liked to say evening prayers. “ He was always thinking about the Sagrada Família when he was walking,” Faulí told me. As Gaudí crossed a street, he saw a tram coming—and, as Faulí tells the story, he threw himself backward only to have “another... See more

Yes, it 's true! The head which was creating, living with the highest life of art, which had realised and grown used to the highest needs of the spirit, that head has already been cut off from my shoulders. There remain the memory and the images created but not yet incarnated by me. They will lacerate me, it is true! But there remains in me my... See more

Speak the words with the exact precision with which you would check out a laundry list. Do not become emotional about the lace blouse. Do not get a hard-on when you say panties. Do not get all shivery just because of the towel. The sheets should not provoke a dreamy expression about the eyes. There is no need to weep into the handkerchief. The... See more