la pirata

la pirata

teenageguide:

"Discoball World," Davíd Garza

It wasn’t out of character for me to be very into a male singer-songwriter, but it was out of character for me to be into one so buzzy with ecstatic joy as Davíd Garza. “Discoball World” was one of those videos I waited in front of the TV for; This Euphoria an album I thoroughly enjoyed but wouldn’t fully grasp until I was a bit older. This song’s lyrics were really what did it for me—“I fell for your coffee eyes/half and half white lies/back around ‘92/I lost God, I found you,” the alliteration of flowers in “vodka vases,” “blissed-out brothers,” and “laptop loners.” It was a tale of a thing I wanted to experience (the falling, the world of weirdos, the heartache), and my love for this guy’s lack of brooding was a new and exciting thing in and of itself. Spring is always the time that I go to his catalog, and this song is still always the starting point. —Alicia

When I was 13, all I wanted to do was shake that God thing and find a human person. Coffee eyes were preferable.

Using the Teenage Guide to just be like, “This song is great!” is maybe a bad idea, but this song and this artist are so, so, so great and deserve to be heard.

book, breakfast, black coffee, bliss.

book, breakfast, black coffee, bliss.

In the late ‘60s there was an assumption that the wealth generated by industry would be taxed and then put into social programs and it would provide a baseline of stability that would allow people to have the time for self-expression; and that social contract has eroded over the last four decades and now it’s every person for themselves. One consequence of this is that people are expected to make it on their own by chasing clicks or building a brand. What a diminished vision that is.
the de-ikea-fying of my life continues / i want nothing that won’t eventually suit my home in a tropical climate, with the red walls, tile floors, and many crucifixes of my dreams.

the de-ikea-fying of my life continues / i want nothing that won’t eventually suit my home in a tropical climate, with the red walls, tile floors, and many crucifixes of my dreams.

INTERVIEWS WITH THE AUTHORS OF MCSWEENEY’S 46: THE LATIN AMERICAN CRIME ISSUE.
Good fiction can be a form of good works. As a Catholic, I recognize that life is a story of continuous revision, of failure and unexpected grace, and of dogged hope. I am comfortable with the white space of ambiguity and mystery. I have faith, not certainty.

"the best way to complain is to make things"

I started reading Maggie Nelson’s Bluets. It’s as gorgeous as I’ve always been told it is. It’s reminding me of Francisco Goldman’s Say Her Name, though I was admittedly thinking about that book before I bought this one last night. In both, there is the loss of a lover, followed by the fascination with something specific (the color blue and waves, respectively), followed by creation. 

This made me realize that the dissolution of my long-term relationship has led to a fascination with women. When the relationship began, I was a child. When it ended, I was supposedly a woman. In between, though, for a long time, there was no becoming. In between, I was of a unit. Always, I was resistant to this. I see this in hindsight. The relationship was only allowed to end once I almost fully disengaged from it and began my becoming, through yoga, through food, through a sudden appreciation of the outdoors. When it was done, I was ready.

He said to me once, “You never made a grand gesture to save us.” That was because there was nothing of us left, because I had made myself and we no longer fit.

The fascination, the research continue. Eventually, maybe, creation.

You are the seer, not the seen.
- Sri Dharma Mittra, at Saturday’s Maha Sadhana.