in situ

finding complexity in top 40 radio

[househunting]

I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS BUILDING. The next bunch of posts are all going to be from the same building. They are super weird studios with little closet bedrooms. someone in my office is listing one of these studios and it has ALL original light fixtures and windows and everything. it’s going to be a series - watch the mayfair manor tag to see other units in the building.

$300,000/studio

Seattle, WA

[achamois]

I've had consistent dreams where I yell at people to get their attention, stand my ground in a fight or a debate, offense instead of defense, screaming my name over and over and over

[achamois]

A month and a half of new meds & I no longer wake up immediately anxious

[achamois]

32 days strong taking my medication & I've never felt so human

[achamois]

Let me work 6 full days and plan a wedding, have a social life, and work on my own studio practice

[achamois]

All of those years in a single sentence: "Yeah, I was in marching band in high school - we played a show with some Beatles songs."

[achamois]

Y'all I am back on antidepressants and will be seeing a therapist soon.

[the-fashion-dish]

Marchesa Spring Summer 2017 Ready-to-Wear 

[nevver]

No news is good news

[thehammermuseum]

What does a just world look like to you?

[thecolorblockcurator]

A World, 1899, Maximilian Lenz

[achamois]

Y'all, I'm going to turn into the person that will consume ungodly amounts of wedding imagery these next months...

[kickstarter]

The Anka Cooperative trains and fairly employs Syrian women living in refugee camps in the art of carpet-weaving and other handcrafts. Currently, they’re working with 250 women living in two camps — back their project to own a hand-woven carpet, coaster, or fabric swatch, and help them achieve their goal of creating work opportunities for 20,000 Syrian refugees by 2020. 

[cockhunt]

[thingsorganizedneatly]

ed: Shout out to David Corns’s original toast post.

[therumpus]

I thought that hearts were meant to function as uteri, to grow linings that bleed clotty when life won’t adhere, to stall like rusty engines in barren winters, unprepared for the seasonal shift. Melon-balled, but ready to swell again. At least that’s what I believed before the bar stool, the baby blue half-shell at the far end of Frankie’s that held me in isolation for four years until language became dead air, my larynx between my thighs, my body a birthday party grab bag. I shared drinks with the co-ed with bat tattoos scattered up and down her back like ash, not v-shaped like migratory birds, but haphazard and lonely, like they didn’t know the others were there at all. She sang death-metal karaoke after midnight and always left with different fathers, their wedding rings cleaving holes in slouched pockets. You took her seat, a phoenix of muddy tires, borderless and brazen. A fire hose through an open window. A flood of sunken scars that joined mine in defiled chorus. A history begging to be built with broken bricks. Salvation rounded its mouth, it seemed, to blow gentle along my scalloped shoulders, to wish away my panic attacks, to obscure the slogging bevy of needy half-siblings, parental neglect, and odd jobs. We agreed that memory is useless and only invites flies. We drove away from Frankie’s and toward the silent fields where nothing grows, and nothing dies, where inadequacy mutes in moonlight and every patch of seedless dirt ablates the withering heart. You whispered tenderly, “it’s over; you’re home,” and buried my wound like a prayer.

“Ode To The Heart I Lost” from SUNDAY RUMPUS POETRY: Three Poems by Amy Strauss Friedman (via therumpus)

[apoemaday]

“How happy is the little stone”

by Emily Dickinson

How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears— Whose Coat of elemental Brown A passing Universe put on, And independent as the Sun Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute Decree In casual simplicity—

[amare-habeo]

Arman (Armand Fernandez) (French, 1928 - 2005) 

Repetitious Hammering / Down, 1968