Lin-Manuel Miranda x Chance the Rapper for Complex

Origami Around
Show & Tell
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
i don't do bad sauce passes
Monterey Bay Aquarium

ellievsbear
we're not kids anymore.
h
Mike Driver
hello vonnie
AnasAbdin
Xuebing Du

Kaledo Art
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
occasionally subtle
Claire Keane

⁂
RMH
Sade Olutola

pixel skylines
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@joshtheword
Lin-Manuel Miranda x Chance the Rapper for Complex
Then Salome gonna start rockin gold teeth and fangs
Salome with the head of St. John the Baptist (1640), Guido Reni / Monster, Kanye West ft. Rick Ross, Jay-Z, Nicki Minaj & Bon Iver
I did a series of illustrations for Autostraddle featuring different musicians I love and their witchy alter egos! I’m not a music nerd by any means but I love seeing how artists portray themselves and build narratives through their music, and this was a fun chance to delve into their lyrics and aesthetics.
the complete montage! still beaming from all of the shared moments that made this happen.
My friend Cindy Lozito has been drawing portraits of amazing female artists in NYC.
Alexander and Eliza continued their longtime practice of sheltering orphans. On October 1, 1795, George Washington Lafayette, son of the marquis, appeared incognito with a tutor in New York. Hamilton had never lost his affection for Lafayette, who he thought would recover his popularity in France after the Revolution faded, but the arrival of Lafayette’s son posed a thorny situation for George Washington. The marquis was still imprisoned by the Austrians at the Olmütz fortress, and young Lafayette wanted American help in freeing him. With his paternal regard for Lafayette, Washington dearly wanted to embrace his son, but the Jay Treaty furor made this a vexed question. Washington already stood accused of anti-French bias, and Lafayette, while a certified hero of the American Revolution, had been branded a traitor to the French one. For Washington, suspended between his personal feelings and political necessity, it was an exquisitely painful predicament. Though he was inclined to have Hamilton send the two young men to Philadelphia, Hamilton thought it prudent to postpone this, and he took the two young Frenchmen into his home. “The President and Mrs. Washington would gladly have received them into their family,” Eliza recalled, but state policy forbade it at that critical time. The lad and his tutor passed a whole summer with us.” Actually, it was the whole winter. For six months, the Hamiltons tried to cheer up the gaunt, melancholy youth before he was finally allowed to see Washington in April 1796 as the Jay Treaty crisis waned. It was to be more than a year before Lafayette was released from prison and wrote to Washington after what he described as “five years of a deathlike silence from me.” Both thrilled and relieved, Hamilton wrote at length to Lafayette, assuring him that their friendship would “survive all revolutions and all vicissitudes…. No one feels more than I do the motives which this country as to love you, to desire and to promote your happiness. And I shall not love it, if it does not manifest the sensibility by unequivocal acts.” If Lafayette ever needed asylum in America, he would receive a cordial reception: “The only thing in which our parties agree is to love you.” Alexander Hamilton seldom used the word love three times in one letter.
Ron Chernow, Alexander Hamilton (via publius-esquire)
“I got two versions. I got twooo versions…”
Dante and Virgil running thru the 6
The Barque of Dante (1822), Eugene Delacroix / Know Yourself, Drake
Pot and a gold cape.
In fourth grade, I lived by this tobacco field on the edge of a town called McLeansville, North Carolina, and I had this neighbor who had a piano. I'd only seen pianos in church or in my dad's apartment, and I was never allowed to touch instruments. I grew up in a house that had alcoholism problems, and there are different codes of living when you grow up like that. I didn't go to other people's houses much. So one day my neighbor's parents weren't home, and she was watching TV, so I snuck into her den and I played this song that's very similar to a song I have called "Norma Jean." Back then I called it "Windows." That song -- I felt like I had a secret, like I had made a life for myself.
Cat Power
Writing is a tool for self-excavation and self-care. And that’s maybe an approach that some artists may not feel, but we also see a whole lot of writers who sort of wave the courage flag and then go out and live fucked up, unaccountable lives. And I don’t want to be that. I want to use my writing to explore the things that make me scared about myself, my world, and my family, but also move out in the world with intention, naming those things, and trying to be a whole person.
Adam Falkner, interviewed by Hanif Abdurraqib for Union Station (via bostonpoetryslam)
love what you have
want what you got
[photo by lindsay keys (open doors)]
“I Had a Man” By Dorothea Lasky
Today when I was walking I had a man tell me as he passed That I was a white bitch (he was white) And to not look at him Or he was going to ‘fuck me in my little butthole’ I wandered away Who is to say I think I am a white bitch My butt is big But I believe my butthole is little This violence that we put on women I don’t think it’s crazy Someone I know said ‘Oh, that man was crazy’ I don’t think he was crazy Maybe he could tell I had a look in my eye That wasn’t crazy anymore Maybe he could feel the wild cool blood in me And it frightened him And he lashed out in fear Maybe he knew I was the same as him But had been born with this kind face and eyes Doughlike appurtenances What about the day I left What happened then Still I’m glad he said that to me Still I’m glad he was so cruel to me What bitter eye knew I had a voice To say what men have done to me What unkind wind has blown thru my brain To make me speak for the wretched To speak wretchedly about the ugly To make my own face ugly and simple To contort this simple smile into a haunting song
Dorothea Lasky’s poetry reminds me that there is everything and nothing scary about being a girl, being complicated, being vast and containing multitudes. Her new book, Thunderbird, came out on Tuesday from Wave Books and this poem and other beauty poems are in it. Support poetry. Support poets. Support small presses. Support the love and confusion of trying to imagine what humanity could really look like if we wanted to have more of it in our lives. -Jenny Z.
Thank you, Frank.
The persistence of Ms. Jackson
The Persistence of Memory (1931), Salvador Dali / Ms. Jackson, Outkast
I hope you all find yourselves sleeping with someone you love, maybe not all of the time, but a lot of the time. The touch of a foot in the night is sincere. I hope you like your work, I hope there’s mystery and poetry in your life — not even poems, but patterns. I hope you can see them. Often these patterns will wake you up, and you will know that you are alive, again and again.
Eileen Myles, “Universal Cycle.” The Importance of Being Iceland. (via winesburgohio)