survival and self-mythology.



blackfashion:

TOP: Way Harsh Co Tee
Muckfogley, 22, NYC
Muckfogley.tumblr.com Twitter: @MuckFogley IG: Muckfogley

blackfashion:

TOP: Way Harsh Co Tee

Muckfogley, 22, NYC

Muckfogley.tumblr.com Twitter: @MuckFogley IG: Muckfogley

Why Nicholas Sparks Matters Now


Cora Emmanuel, Lindsey Wixson and Ondria Hardin by Vivian Sassen for M Le Monde April 2013.

Cora Emmanuel, Lindsey Wixson and Ondria Hardin by Vivian Sassen for M Le Monde April 2013.

(Source: zeephus)

  • D: You're my favorite person.
  • Me: Yeah, I'm mine too.
My wish for you is that you continue. Continue to be who and how you are, to astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness. Continue to allow humor to lighten the burden of your tender heart.
Maya Angelou (via ethiopienne)

(Source: thegoodvibe.co)

art-creature:

sketchbook doodles, detail

art-creature:

sketchbook doodles, detail

mpdrolet:

Arseni Khamzin

9 good bits from Adam Phillips’ Paris Review interview

austinkleon:

1) “I had never had any desire to be a writer. I wanted to be a reader.”

2) “One thing you discover in psychoanalytic treatment is the limits of what you can change about yourself or your life. We are children for a very long time.”

3) “Fortunately, I never recovered from my education, I’ve just carried on with it. If you happen to like reading, it can have a very powerful effect on you, an evocative effect, at least on me. It’s not as though when I read I’m gathering information, or indeed can remember much of what I read. I know the books that grip me, as everybody does, but their effect is indiscernible. I don’t quite know what it is. The Leavisite position, more or less, is that reading certain sentences makes you more alive and a morally better person, and that those two things go together. It seems to me that that isn’t necessarily so, but what is clear is that there are powerful unconscious evocative effects in reading books that one loves. There’s something about these books that we want to go on thinking about, that matters to us. They’re not just fetishes that we use to fill gaps. They are like recurring dreams we can’t help thinking about.”

4) “You can only recover your appetite, and appetites, if you can allow yourself to be unknown to yourself.”

5) “That’s what a life is, it’s the lives you don’t have.”

6) “I hope you read one of my books because it gives you pleasure or because you hate it—you read it for those sorts of reasons—and then you discover what you find yourself thinking, feeling, in the reading of it.”

7) “You can’t write differently, even if you want to. You just have to be able to notice when you are boring yourself.”

8) “Anybody who writes knows you don’t simply write what you believe. You write to find out what you believe, or what you can afford to believe.”

9) “[I]f you live in a culture which is fascinated by the myth of the artist, and the idea that the vocational artistic life is one of the best lives available, then there’s always going to be a temptation for people who are suffering to believe that to become an artist would be the solution when, in fact, it may be more of the problem. There are a number of people whom you might think of as casualties of the myth of the artist. They really should have done something else. Of course some people get lucky and find that art works for them, but for so many people it doesn’t. I think that needs to be included in the picture. Often one hears or reads accounts in which people will say, Well, he may have treated his children, wives, friends terribly, but look at the novels, the poems, the paintings. I think it’s a terrible equation. Obviously one can’t choose to be, as it were, a good parent or a good artist, but if the art legitimates cruelty, I think the art is not worth having. People should be doing everything they can to be as kind as possible and to enjoy each other’s company. Any art, any anything, that helps us do that is worth having. But if it doesn’t, it isn’t.’

Such a good read.

(Update: my friend Mark Larson has a great AdamPhillips tag.)

tranqualizer:

mayosjustanickname:

diasporicdecay:

pocketostars:

ancientrelic:

humansofnewyork:

“After this I go to work at a pizza shop. My wife and I were college professors in Bangladesh. I taught accounting. But one dollar in America becomes eighty dollars when we send it back home.”

People forget, when immigrants come to this country they start from scratch. They could have been lawyers in their home country, but in the US..it means nothing. You think a HS diploma from Bangladesh means anything in this country? My mom was a top student in the country, went to all the best school and got the best of everything…but when she got here it meant squat and she was cleaning other people’s homes and scrubbing their toilets. This is why I get pissed of when people talk smack about immigrants. They at least are doing something…..heading for a goal..making sacrifices…what are you doing with your life? 

^ My parents were college-educated teachers in their home country and came to the U.S. with nothing but empty pockets, a dash of hope, and a belief in God. They also scrubbed toilets in people’s homes to make enough to provide for their children, and that’s probably not something a lot of educated professionals would be able to do. I know I wouldn’t be able to do it. Pride would get in the way.

THIS IS TOO IMPORTANT.

Shoutout to my parents

and you know, shout out to our im/migrant parents who were not college educated before they came to the U.S and don’t share a narrative of going from “riches to rags.” shout out to my im/migrant parents who were laborers at home and are still laborers here.
i think it’s important to honor the complexities of our parents histories and uplift their triumphs but let’s remember to do so in a way that honors all of the ways im/migrants exist and all of the places we and our parents come from. we don’t have to prove that capitalism, white supremacy, classism, etc is awful because our parents were once revered college professors or doctors. we don’t have to believe in that assimilation. 

tranqualizer:

mayosjustanickname:

diasporicdecay:

pocketostars:

ancientrelic:

humansofnewyork:

“After this I go to work at a pizza shop. My wife and I were college professors in Bangladesh. I taught accounting. But one dollar in America becomes eighty dollars when we send it back home.”

People forget, when immigrants come to this country they start from scratch. They could have been lawyers in their home country, but in the US..it means nothing. You think a HS diploma from Bangladesh means anything in this country? My mom was a top student in the country, went to all the best school and got the best of everything…but when she got here it meant squat and she was cleaning other people’s homes and scrubbing their toilets. This is why I get pissed of when people talk smack about immigrants. They at least are doing something…..heading for a goal..making sacrifices…what are you doing with your life? 

^ My parents were college-educated teachers in their home country and came to the U.S. with nothing but empty pockets, a dash of hope, and a belief in God. They also scrubbed toilets in people’s homes to make enough to provide for their children, and that’s probably not something a lot of educated professionals would be able to do. I know I wouldn’t be able to do it. Pride would get in the way.

THIS IS TOO IMPORTANT.

Shoutout to my parents

and you know, shout out to our im/migrant parents who were not college educated before they came to the U.S and don’t share a narrative of going from “riches to rags.” shout out to my im/migrant parents who were laborers at home and are still laborers here.

i think it’s important to honor the complexities of our parents histories and uplift their triumphs but let’s remember to do so in a way that honors all of the ways im/migrants exist and all of the places we and our parents come from. we don’t have to prove that capitalism, white supremacy, classism, etc is awful because our parents were once revered college professors or doctors. we don’t have to believe in that assimilation.