Sharing moments not photographed
“Are you going to take an Instagram of Kanye’s face to show how Universal Music defaced Bedford Avenue in the name of album promotion?”
“Oh, I’ve already posted an Instagram today.”
“You limit yourself to only one a day?!”
“Yeah!”
The Future Is Much Better Than The Past
(Source: Spotify)
—Falling
How do you fall in love?
You don’t fall in love like you fall in a hole. You fall like falling through space. It’s like you jump off your own private planet to visit someone else’s planet. And when you get there it all looks different: the flowers, the animals, the colours people wear. It is a big surprise falling in love because you thought you had everything just right on your own planet, and that was true, in a way, but then somebody signalled to you across space and the only way you could visit was to take a giant jump. Away you go, falling into someone else’s orbit and after a while you might decide to pull your two planets together and call it home. And you can bring your dog. Or your cat. Your goldfish, hamster, collection of stones, all your odd socks. (The ones you lost, including the holes, are on the new planet you found.)
And you can bring your friends to visit. And read your favourite stories to each other. And the falling was really the big jump that you had to make to be with someone you don’t want to be without. That’s it.
PS You have to be brave.
Jeanette Winterson in Big Questions from Little People & Simple Answers from Great Minds
Song: “Falling” by Nitin Sawhney
Liya Kebede

Love Liya. Not only did she design my leather jacket, she also killed it at Cannes without looking trampy or try-hard. Effortlessly stylish, which seems to be a struggle for many oft-photographed women these days (MET ball horror story nightmare territory).
words best unsaid
“Wow, you REALLY like APC! You also bought the silk blouse in this print, yes?!”
“… and as you know, one is now aware of when the recipient of a private msg has viewed the msg.”
(Source: Spotify)
(Source: newyorker)
The first thing my Pakistani Scientologist taxi driver said was that I’m beautiful. He then offered to call my husband and tell him he had found a diamond. Then he told me he didn’t like Imran Khan. Then he turned the meter off, and tried to sell me some books. Then I praised the efficacy of psychiatry, and asked him if he read Lawrence Wright’s New Yorker essay, and he turned the meter back on. Then he told me CCHR was the only human rights-focused group out there, and I said, “Have you heard of Human Rights Watch?!” (at SoHo House)

