(Source: space-heaters, via buchananking)
GIRLZ NITE OUT
(Source: anormaux, via fashinpirate)
i’m just doin me ok
Kazuo Shiraga, Wildboar Hunting 1, 1963
Yesterday at the MCA, I eavesdropped on a man mediating the conversations school children (maybe around eight or nine years old) were having in response to the work above. First of all, props to him for bringing kids to the goriest painting in an exceptionally dark and violent exhibit (“Destroy the Painting”). Second of all, he did a great job of letting the kids figure it out mostly on their own without much input. The mediator’s only contributions were to invite other opinions and clarify direct questions about the piece.
“I think the weirder something is, the more you want to look at it and figure it out.”
“Is that a real boar? It is? I think he doesn’t like wild boars.”
“I think he likes wild boars. He made a huge painting about them!”
“This is gross, I’m not looking at it any more.”
“But he killed the boars! He must hate them.”
“I don’t know, I eat bacon but I like pigs a lot.”
“HE PAINTED IT WITH HIS FEET?”
“Do you eat jello? My mom says it’s made out of pigs.”
“No way! I’m never eating jello again.”
“But you said you eat bacon!”
Audre Lorde (via ryanbhilliard)
(via sadhag)
We have to consciously study how to be tender with each other until it becomes a habit.
Grandma goes grocery shopping…for $450 of wine (at Uncork it)
(Source: spaceghostdepressed, via spookypuke)
Ogling pink pearl inlay stiletto knives on eBay.
Hard femme actualities.
I took Amtrak from St. Louis to Chicago for the week, and was kinda excited when a punk kid sat down next to me (presumably he chose me because of the purple hair/queercut). He was there about ten seconds before noticing I was reading an unholy book of libertarian propaganda called Conscious Capitalism before he swerved the fuck out of there.
LITTLE DOES HE KNOW I AM WRITING A FUCKING THESIS ON COMMODITY ACTIVISM AS MARKETING SHAM
I had never seen so much bad plastic surgery up close before I worked at the West County Whole Foods. Rich white people are the weirdest.
The Craft (1996)
(via lunardistance)
(via slugpunx)
Michel Foucault, Friendship as a Way of Life (via othermike)
(Source: rhizombie, via othermike)
Another thing to distrust is the tendency to relate the question of homosexuality to the problem of “Who am I?” and “What is the secret of my desire?” Perhaps it would be better to ask oneself, “‘What relations, through homosexuality, can be established, invented, multiplied, and modulated?” The problem is not to discover in oneself the truth of one’s sex, but, rather, to use one’s sexuality henceforth to arrive at a multiplicity of relationships. And, no doubt, that’s the real reason why homosexuality is not a form of desire but something desirable. Therefore, we have to work at becoming homosexuals and not be obstinate in recognizing that we are. The development toward which the problem of homosexuality tends is the one of friendship.
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