1. he wanted a muscle car. 

     
  2. my brother died tonight. i’ve been waiting for the call for many years, but i still thought we had just a little more time: time for him to come to new york and be at my wedding, time for him to meet a niece or nephew. he loved kids. this is one of the last times we texted.  

     

  3. "yes, it’s a real struggle for me in reality. i think i’m just wired to want out—not in a suicidal way, necessarily, but in a shift-in-perception way. in a relief from self way. i’m always looking for secret vehicles and passageways out. sometimes the vehicles are dangerous, or like i get hooked on the vehicle itself. i attribute the feeling of escape or pleasure to a particular vehicle, rather than the destination or something that already exists somewhere within myself, and kind of move into the backseat. i forget that there are other vehicles or life outside it. but poetry is one way of getting out of myself that has never hurt me. it can be slower than the other vehicles, but it is very powerful."
    — i want out, too, and i can’t wait to read the rest of laia’s interview with scarecrone author melissa broder at emily books 

    (via mai--piu)

     

  4. "work your ass off to change the language & dont ever get famous."
    — 

    bernadette mayer, “experiments” (via fscottfitzgerald)

    Exactly

    (via mashatupitsyn)

     

  5. Anonymous said: are you still planning to finish your ph.d.?

    definitely.

     
  6. so far, on the annual san diego vacation, i have discussed the barney’s salesgirl whose schedule i memorized so that i can ensure she always gets the commission on my purchases; a nuanced theory about why bloomingdale’s failed in dallas as neiman marcus thrived; the cost of manicures and pedicures in different cities and the regularity with which they need to take place; plus eye cream, lipstick, the nordstrom shoe department, and that i’m “not a dessert person,” twice. marc and i babysat, extensively, which included explaining what keggers are, congratulating his 13-year-old niece for choosing to bet on a female jockey the day we went to the racetrack, and praying that the children wouldn’t ask any questions when beyoncé's “partition” came on the radio. sam, who is seven, didn't understand if i am officially “logged in” as part of the family. i said that i am logged in, and that it's almost official. 

    we also discussed the minutiae of our relationship at the pool, at dinner, in the jacuzzi. many of my friends and family members are against marriage, or against diamond rings, or even a little bit against me, so i wasn’t prepared for a week and a half of this kind of indulgence. marc’s family has asked us questions and listened to us talk about the details and theory behind the proposal; our plans for a second home; and marc suggesting i get my ears re-pierced, though i haven’t worn earrings in years, because it would be easier for him to buy me presents. his mom even laughed, and, later, when talking about the hotel in positano we stayed at on our engagement trip, said, “it took me 35 years to get to le sireneuse” and then, sincerely, “i’m in awe.” 

    later, we got the same champagne we drank during that week in italy, and marc’s brother said he hopes that all of our dreams come true, including those we haven’t dreamt yet. it was a lovely and appropriate toast for people who have never really thought about any of this. or at least for me. 

    a friend of mine, recently deciding between two men who were courting her, said of one: “he’s offering me what your fiancé is offering you. a whole world.” 

    Tagged #dreamers #gifts
     

  7. "one can study only what one has first dreamed about."
    — gaston bachelard, the psychoanalysis of fire (via batarde)
     
  8. elanormcinerney:

    Introduction by Helen Simpson | The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories | Angela Carter

     

  9. 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.)

    from adam phillips’ paris review interview. “you can only recover your appetite, and appetites, if you can allow yourself to be unknown to yourself,” and everything else, too. 

     

  10. we bought our wedding bands on the day of the supermoon.