GJP

Female. Capricorn. Chicago / Manila / Philly / Ottawa / Toronto Mind-traveling nomad, with a big, big heart.

[gracejoyp-blog]

Just completed the novel “Affinity” by Sarah Waters. It has kept me up all night. 

I haven’t felt so emotionally invested in a read since Jeanette Winterson. My heart beating out-of-sync, palms prickly, my eyes scanning each sentence hurriedly. Did Selina come before light? A true artist, skillfully creating a world in which one voluntarily drowns in...

Now, it’s a matter of pursuit: finding the rest of her novels, hiding quietly between rows of gently worn novels, just the way I like them. 

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The challenge

Get someone to sit with you, and have a real, uninterrupted conversation, without a phone or computer in hand.

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When it's summer in the city And you are so long gone from the city I start to miss you, baby, sometimes.

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Experience an interactive documentary about what connects us.

The {} And project recently landed in my inbox from a friend, who asked me to check it out. It explores connectivity, various relationships, raw emotions, and time-travel (alternating between past, present, and future). I found it curiously captivating, as it invites uncomfortable silence, which in turn fuels deeper connectivity as we explore a question and answer sequence in true form, without distraction.

This project immediately reminds me of performance artist Marina Abramovic in her work titled, “The Artist is Present”, in which she invites strangers to sit opposite her for one minute, in silence. I love the idea of borrowing this unembellished concept, and turning it into a project in which we explore our own relationships and reconnect.

[solidair]

Letter from Félix González-Torres to Ross Laycock, 1988

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A favourite in the minimalist art world.

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Jamaica Travels, 2013

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Paying homage to one of my favourite independent films, Little Miss Sunshine.

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Rewind//

For my sixteenth birthday, I hosted a house party at my best friend's house, in Chicago's north side. It was every sixteen-year-old's dream; mike's hard lemonade, smirnoff vodka, a mix of fruity coolers, and no parentals. At this party, a friend of mine handed me a wrapped package, and it in was -lo and behold- the Blink-182 album.  I still remember hastily ripping the plastic sheet off, wide-eyed and inept (n my classic inebriated fashion) and holding the album tightly against my chest. 

The emotional connection I had with this album was one that was considerable. The angsty teen I was, searching, searching for myself, searching for connections, I would play this album from start to finish every day. I would get lost in it's oceanic, heavy-hearted sound. Beautiful, destructive, strewn in melancholy. Within this search came answers, unhurriedly, but definite.

And now, ten years later, when I've got loose ends to tie, thoughts to arrange, and words that beg for coherency, I find myself coming back to this album...

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last winter,

last summer

2013

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I want to feel like myself again.

[wonderlandpullingalice]

[king-angela-deactivated20250109]

28 Days Later [2002]

A Beautiful Mind [2001]

A Clockwork Orange [1971]

Amelie [2006]

American Beauty [1999]

Bronson [2009]

Buffalo ‘66 [1998]

Dazed and Confused [1993]

Following [1998]

Ghost World [2001]

Gran Torino [2008]

Grave of the Fireflies [1988]

Harold...

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Most exceptional list. All my top faves included.

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Just like pain can't truly be measured, happiness can't either.

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Sincerity's decline.

People nowadays don't really give a shit about shit.

They just act like they do.

Let's elaborate on this thought for a minute.

Going back in time, if you wanted to engage yourself in some sort of cause, you really had to engage yourself. No bullshit. Travel around with handmade poster, push forth ideas by directly connecting with people (real time, face time), hope your lover is waiting by the rotary dial, so you could spill your heart out, because waiting isn't an option.

Understand that shit doesn't go down like that in the 21st century.

You've got businessmen looking to sponsor a child in Africa, without even knowing their name or family history, so they could post it on their refrigerator and save face by "donating to a cause". You've got those donating to a charity so they could write it off as a deductible for their taxes. You've got online junkies sending "Get Well Soon!"e-cards with a generic note that pops up when opened, and hope that it gives off some kind of emotional response to the receiver. 

What. The. Fuck.

This is why handwritten letters, cards, post-it notes, and anything that took some heartfelt thought, and effort, means so much to me. Causes that involve real time with real folk. The struggle. The passion. Makes me think (and I mean this in the most sincere way possible): you really do give a shit.

[wesandersonpalettes]

Hotel Chevalier.

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Natalie Portman: world's most perfect human being.