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(alek wek models in an editorial for how to spend it mag)


wooden beams and floors, teal sneakers moved to a beat and the texture of your hair in your face as you moved, dancing, sweating. standing, swaying, curious and unnoticed, like the slices of orange and pieces of string holding everything together. a stomping pulse and something changing and feeling still and alone and happy in the midst of this moving, breathing thing. a breath of fresh air unusually clean and lights lights lights sparkling across the horizon.

tuesday.

big city.

(photography by lily ferguson)

we've built up our world, created a hard space where we live and work, (where i sometimes feel trapped but where i mostly feel free) with stones and brick and glass and metal and plastic and paper and steel and height and shapes and gas and wheels and rubber and wood and concrete.

we circle around each other through subway lines and boroughs and bars and buildings, never touching, communicating through writing and text and music and wires and airwaves. and sometimes words. sometimes.

and even when i hate it, i find myself looking around at the confusion and chaos and loneliness and crushing weight of it all and can't help but admit that it is all, somehow, still very beautiful.

the joy.

green.

such brilliant green and blue this weekend, my eyes could barely take it all in.
(this is why i don't like wearing sunglasses)

empty room.

I'm in a certain place. And maybe I'm alone in the middle of this empty room, or maybe its just that for once I have room to breathe and now that it's empty i can hear each inhale and exhale and feel my chest expanding. either way, i'm here, and i don't hate it, and i'm even willing to embrace the circumstance and not just because there is nothing else to wrap my arms around. i see the others and i smile because its good, there is no mourning for what isn't mine. its floating and it's music and it's silence and i'm free. it allows for thoughts and things and strings of words and dreams to curl like smoke into the atmosphere. i am a little bottle in the middle of the vast cold floor and i'm compact and small. and when you finally curl your fingers around and bring me to your lips, we will change and swell and grow too large for the space to contain us.

gustav.

(gustav klimt)

gustav klimt... his patterns and the detail in the clothes, jewelry and hair... the beauty is that his paintings are so evocative of decadent fashion illustrations, even when his female subjects are nude. klimt's work was the first that really captured and moved me, at an age when I thought most paintings and museums were dull and has continuted to be one of my favorites through all other art that i've encountered.