24 hour red mango, feels good to be home.
Just because she told you she never wants to see you again, that doesn’t mean she never wants to see you again.
— Elizabeth Trundle (via nevver)
(via nevver)
(Source: j-esus, via sesame-oil)
Quite simply, I was in love with New York. I do not mean “love” in any colloquial way, I mean that I was in love with the city, the way you love the first person who ever touches you and you never love anyone quite that way again. I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring, or the second spring, they were all alike for a while. I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later – because I did not belong there, did not come from there – but when you are twenty-two or twenty-three, you figure that later you will have a high emotional balance, and be able to pay whatever it costs. I still believed in possibilities then, still had the sense, so peculiar to New York, that something extraordinary would happen any minute, any day, any month.
—
“Goodbye To All That,” Joan Didion (via commovente)
I wish I wrote this oh god I wish I wrote this
(via s-more-wit)
(via s-more-wit)
PATRICK DERMARCHELIER X ANISH KAPOOR
Made exclusively for GARAGE magazine with editorials from its 4th issue.
Xu Bing, A Book From the Sky, 1987. Installation at Chazen Museum of Art, University of Wisconsin, Madison, 1991. Moveable-type prints and books.
Xu trained as a printmaker in Beijing. A Book From the Sky, with its invented Chinese woodblock characters, may be a stinging critique of the meaninglessness of contemporary political language.
