In the space of a few months your hair and clothing begin to fall awkwardly on you—or maybe you just begin to notice.
Not really a grid, but grid-signifying ornamentation.
My participation in events to which I’d thought myself central, I came to realize, went mostly unnoticed.
When the pet adoption form reveals itself to be an unexpected inquiry into mortality.
Be the sound, not the hearing
The breath, not the breathing
The wind…
Did that work for you?
For a while.
They kept the empty high chair in its place at the table long past the time it was needed. It was astonishing that an inanimate object could retain a faint half-life of the love that had centered on it so many years before.
You’ve finally perfected your craft. The only interesting parts were the mistakes.
Later he would remember this as his Year of Watching Tennis. He didn’t particularly like or understand tennis. He found it boring. But little by little, hearing the ball bounce back and forth, he felt his mind putting itself back together.
The way forward: Simply Be Exhausted.
Your search—iceberg + ronson lighter + beefheart—did not match any documents.
The collection exclusively featured images of mayhem and disaster.
Options for aging designers:
1) white jeans/looking like douche
2) design blog/looking like douche
3) gallery show/looking like douche
4) surfing/looking like douche
5) teaching/being douche
He was someone who could at the same time be held in the highest esteem and lowest contempt.
Addiction—the one thing you can count on.
We’re making the world up as we go along.
If one more subscription card falls out of this magazine, I’m going fucking ballistic.
Second saddest thing in the world: letting go.
How I despise your certainty, and your love of jargon.
Over the years, when I asked about other people’s work, he inevitably answered not so good. On a few rare occasions he said not so bad. I never dared ask about mine. I knew the answer.
The book’s celebrated “brutal honesty,” refreshing at first, is ultimately outweighed by a hipster/junky air of smug self-congratulation I’ve encountered in some AA people, reveling in their transgressive pasts while simultaneously gloating over their current virtue.
His work appeared to consist of random isolated details drawn from our entire cultural apparatus, observed at various magnifications from the front or behind.
Although he thought of himself as a “regular” there, he always had to wait to be seated. One night as the hostess went looking for his table, he snuck a look at the note next to his reservation. It said asshole.
This rote deflection of even the faintest praise isn’t humility, but a putrid species of narcissism.
