i used to be able to talk to the wind when i was seven and now its like theres too many google sheets between me and simple truths to do that so easily

“In order to be free you simply have to be so, without asking permission of anybody. You have to have your own hypothesis about what you are called to do, and follow it, not giving in to circumstances or complying with them. But that sort of freedom demands powerful inner resources, a high degree of self-awareness, a consciousness of your responsibility to yourself and therefore to other people.”

Andrei Tarkovsky, from “The artist’s responsibility,” Sculpting in Time, trans. Kitty Hunter-Blair (University of Texas Press, 1987)

I can’t let motherfuckers know I got desires or they’ll think I suck

dj got us falling in love again

the idealized version of my tomorrow self will fix this

As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh, Susan Sontag.

So embarrassing but who cares. But so embarrassing but who cares but it’s so embarrassing but also who cares but it really is embarrassing but really who cares BUT it’s so embarrassing though probably nobody cares but it’s embarrassing asf and nobody cares but

friendship collage <3,

April 2023, 3 layer lithograph

loversneverdie.com

“the arts and sciences are completely separate fields that should be pitted against each other” the overlap of the arts and sciences make up our entire perceivable reality they r fucking on the couch

Carnebollente

“She had what’s known as inner life and didn’t know it. She lived off herself as if eating her own entrails. When she went to work she looked like a gentle lunatic because as the bus went along she daydreamed in loud and dazzling dreams. These dreams, because of all that interiority, were empty because they lacked the essential nucleus of — of ecstasy, let’s say. Most of the time she had without realizing it the void that fills the souls of the saints. Was she a saint? So it seems. She didn’t know that she was meditating because she didn’t know what the word meant. But it seems to me that her life was a long meditation on the nothing.”

— Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star

Werner herzog

Isabelle Adjani, 1970s