Morning Ritual — 3.30.22
Find ecstasy in life; the mere sense of living is joy enough.
Great things are done by a series of small things brought together.
There are very few guarantees in life, but this one is real: If you can sell, you’ll always make it.
How do we tell the truth through art, and what even is truth? Is it scientific findings on the effects of light on the rods and cones of our retina, data informed applications of colour theory in Pointillism? Is it present in a photorealistic painting of a fruit with the beginnings of rot? Is it the careful rendering of light to evoke a specific feeling? Is it perfect two-point perspective and foreshortening? Is it a bicycle wheel attached to a stool?
As we rejoin our communities and remove our masks, it is useful to remember to be tender and careful and open.
I make clothing for ghosts. The dead, the forgotten, and the hurting.
The Environmental Integrity Project, a nonpartisan nonprofit, released an alarming new report suggesting that 55% of America’s lakes and 51% of river and stream miles are “impaired” with pollution.
In the 1920s, the auto industry chased people off the streets of America — by waging a brilliant psychological campaign. They convinced the public that if you got run over by a car, it was your fault. Pedestrians were to blame. People didn’t belong in the streets; cars did. It’s one of the most remarkable (and successful) projects to shift public opinion… The car companies managed to effect a 180-degree turnaround. That’s because before the car came along, the public held precisely the opposite view: People belonged in the streets, and automobiles were interlopers.
When’s the last time you’ve had a decent chicken wing?
Gather ye rosebuds, baby — this shit pie is almost cooked. When I was seven, a year felt like a lifetime, but now that I’m old enough to be your dad (and let’s face it, I might be), the years are positively hooning. Sometimes life moves so fast, I worry that it’s passing me by like so much rocket, pear, and parmesan in a salad fight at a psychiatric hospital. Other times, though, life seems to be happening at just the right pace.