art and trash

i live in manhattan and i don't know what's wrong with me

[hillbilly-queen]

"Black Girl Staring: Three Figures Waiting, 59th St" Alen MacWeeney, 1977

[hillbilly-queen]

Pina Bausch in Le Sacre du Printemps (The Rite of Spring) First performed December 3, 1975

"The first thing I did was to talk to them about what 'Sacre' means to me," Ms. Bausch said, referring to the work's French name, "Le Sacre du Printemps." "The starting point is the music. There are so many feelings in it; it changes constantly. There is also much fear in it. I thought, how would it be to dance knowing you have to die? How would you feel, how would I feel? The Chosen One is special, but she dances knowing the end is death. The dancers listened carefully with big ears. They seemed very interested."

Alan Riding The New York Times 15 June 1997

[zzzze]

[collectionarchive]

by Caroline Tompkins

source: curatedsphere.tumblr.com 

[rumplstilts]

…yet still I’m always looking for the exit sign. Whether it’s from a fashion tent or the best new club, I’m always slipping out. I go outside and smoke cigarettes and walk home without saying goodbye to anyone.

Cat Marnell, “New York Fashion Week: Why I Slept Through It Last Time, and Why I Sort of Want To Again (via everydayvampirelooks)

[quotemadness]

Have no fear, you will find your way. It’s in your bones. It’s in your soul.

Mark Z. Danielewski (via quotemadness)

[arghhhuhghr]

Baby Fruitbats of Adderall Island who feel like you are all alone and things will never change, are you listening to me? But it’s not bad, you guys. And I’m crying when I’m writing this, because I feel so stupid and embarrassed, because I was so, so ashamed of who I was for so, so long. I know I am all popular now, but God, you guys, for years I didn’t have any friends. But you know what—it’s not bad to be different. To be so weird and to love getting speedy and to be chaotic and to love taking notes and copying poems and sleep with pictures of Sid Vicious above your bed. I collected drug baggies and I couldn’t help it; I still love them and all the patterns. I bought them on Ebay. I liked to starve myself and if I had to go to sleep with a man at 1:00 AM I was so miserable. But it was and is OK: it’s just a different life. It’s just different. Back when I was full of shame I’d smoke a cigarette on my window ledge and talk to God on the 16th floor, age 18. If anybody—God, do they? If anybody saw, if anybody knew… I used to think three, five, ten times a night. Oh God, oh God, I am so defective and uncool and I would die if anybody—anybody—discovers how gross I am. How crazy my apartment is. How meth lab-y my mind is. How broken my brain is. And I would watch all the lights change on East 86th Street and I would smoke and cry. God. GOD. I’d throw the lit butt out the window. What brand of cigarettes did I smoke back then? Camel Lights. I am the only person like this in the entire world, and I will throw myself off the motherfucking roof if anybody ever finds out the truth about me.

Cat Marnell (via hannahhunters)

[radnoir]

[sunbathe]

[carriecourogen]

“I was the toast of the town. I was puking flowers afterhours; I was letting everybody down.”

[hillbilly-queen]

Stacy Leigh, Average Americans that Happen to be Sex Dolls, series 2014. 

[tanjavanja]

An inferiority complex and sad boyfriends

[driflloon]

yproject ss18

[ohbutwebestmakepeacewithit]

271/365

[akristianservice]

*Warning Strobing images

[louisbraquet]

Cabaret ink/charcoal drawings at Louisbraquetart.etsy.com

[ritsual]