Our Separated Cities

I endeavor to live a life worthy of both the Criterion Collection and the photography of Ed van der Elsken.

2012-01-07T01:34:00.000-05:00

A romantic relationship is usually the least interesting option.

2012-01-02T00:55:00.000-05:00

"[Actress, Rooney Mara] hangs on [Director, David Fincher's] every word, her eyes lit with admiration. Their relationship, it quickly becomes clear, is charged with the electric current of the mentor-protégée crush, which is both touching and occasionally uncomfortable to watch. Or, as Daniel Craig, who costars as a crusading journalist named Mikael Blomkvist, says about their working relationship, “It’s fucking weird!”

When a waiter appears to take our order, we are all looking at our menus, but I see out of the corner of my eye Fincher nudging Mara. He says with quiet seriousness, “You can eat.” I look up to see her reaction. Mara rolls her eyes, and Fincher laughs. “You can have lettuce and a grape. A raisin if you must.” She orders a piece of fish and barely touches it. In the book, Salander is described as boyish and awkward, “a pale, anorexic young woman who has hair as short as a fuse. . . .” Noomi Rapace, the magnetic star of the Swedish versions, looked more like Joan Jett. “One of the things that make our version that much more heartbreaking,” says Mara, “is that even though I am playing a 24-year-old, I look much younger. I look like a child.” I ask if she had to get unhealthily skinny for the role. She says, “Umm . . . not really.”

“It hasn’t been too hard for her,” Fincher quickly adds."

-From this interview with Vogue Magazine

I find this relationship dynamic so compelling. And I am very nearly in love with Rooney Mara as Lisbeth.

Heard somebody say,

2012-01-01T00:00:00.000-05:00

Happy
Fucking
New
Year.

[Wandering Star] Polica

2011-12-29T21:43:00.000-05:00

when the day is done
and i lay me down
i sit alone in my lonely bed
and i think about the day we had
and it makes me sad cause your gone
when the day is done
and i lay me down
the sheets are cold
and your space is dark
and i hear you whisper something sweet
but it doesn't move any nerves in me

after all, i'm married to the wandering star
and i've kissed the moon
it was full when i fell in love with thee
but now the world turns without me
turns without me

when the day is done
and i lay me down
the sheets are cold
and your space is dark
and i hear you whisper something sweet
but it doesn't move any nerves in me

after all, i'm married to the wandering star
and i've kissed the moon
it was full when i fell in love with thee
but now the world turns without me

Bon Iver + Polica + Interpol = winter soundtrack.

Women in Love

2011-12-27T17:22:00.000-05:00

Ex-Mass

2011-12-24T22:06:00.000-05:00

To those who observe, Merry Christmas.

To those who don't, well, keep fighting the good fight.

We all have a cross to bear.

Lately [If only you could see into me...]

2011-12-23T01:09:00.001-05:00

1. Gayngs' cover of By Your Side by Sade.
+did other covers exist before this one.
2. I see now that the pride I'd had in my "recovery" was as real as the recovery itself.
+one of the hardest moments of my life is when they told me it would never go away.
+that I would always feel this way.
+I have always been less brave than I thought.
3. I'm not even as good at faking it as I thought.
4. So that's that, really.
5. But the truth of the matter is, ultimately, that I will never be able to unbe who I am.
+I know you want to ask me to, and it's a necessary step to take, but
+if you'd rather not waste our time...
6. I'm reading Walden again.
7. Seriously, just... everything Gayngs has ever done. I don't care if it's the unpopular thing to do.
8. Awkward reunions.
+tis the season.
9. I have this dull ache. The kind you feel when you're falling in love. The same dread + fear + want + hope
+the ache has a name:
10. Wisconsin.

[By Your Side] Gayngs

2011-12-23T00:48:00.001-05:00

you think i'd leave your side baby
you know me better than that
you think i'd leave you down
when you're down on your knees
i wouldn't do that
i'll tell you you're right when you want
and if only you could see into me

when you're cold
i'll be there
hold you tight to me

when you're on the outside baby and you can`t get in
i will show you you're so much better than you know
when you're lost and you're alone and you cant get back again
i will find you darling and i will bring you home

and if you want to cry
i am here to dry your eyes
and in no time
you'll be fine

you think i'd leave your side baby
you know me better than that
you think id leave you down when you're down on your knees
i wouldn't do that
i'll tell you you're right when you want
and if only you could see into me

oh when you're cold
i'll be there
hold you tight to me
when you're low
i'll be there
by your side baby

oh when you're cold
i'll be there
hold you tight to me
oh when you're low
i'll be there
by your side baby

[Goshen] Beirut

2011-11-26T11:19:00.000-05:00

They've gone before
Stood by your door
all day

But you never found it home
A fair price I'd pay to be alone.
What would you hide from such a glory?
If I had only told you so.

After Party

2011-11-19T16:00:00.000-05:00

The song playing is called "Dark Star" by Polica

This is how winter feels to me.

Lately [Retreat]

2011-11-16T13:27:00.000-05:00

1. Preparing for a long and prosperous winter.
2. Beirut, Farfalo, + Stars
3. This pretty much sums it up.
+although, I should start looking into a career, no matter how exhausting it is.
+I'm not half as good at making things as she is.
4. Finally reading Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez
5. Spirits are remarkably high. I'm energized by all of the things I have to do.
+But then, I've spent a lot of time visiting my parents and
+I always leave here feeling renewed.
6. Young Goethe in Love, Melancholia, + My Week With Marilyn
7. The new house is working out swimmingly.
8. Losing it without my best friends.
+especially after my brief encounter with James last night.
9. Now's as good a time as any to say this, Susan. I miss you so much. I didn't realize how much I valued you until you were gone. I wish that we had been alone when you visited me last time. You were right about that. I miss you most when I'm happy or having fun.
+I hope you don't mind if I put this here.
10. In an effort to appear light-hearted, I want one of these:

The night starts here.

2011-11-13T16:33:00.000-05:00

Star birth and explosion images via NASA.

Admittedly, sometimes I get caught up in trivial things.

[The Night Starts Here] Stars

2011-11-12T16:42:00.000-05:00

By the way,

2011-11-09T11:23:00.000-05:00

There are a lot of people who believe that they are being taken advantage of. . But many of those people have lost everything. They have no where to turn. At some point, you either storm the streets or sleep in them. I get that.

However, some of those people are fighting because they believe they are entitled to something to which they are not. I can see where someone would be angry about that. But this is a very small minority. The human spirit is intrepid. It will do anything to survive.

I have to say this: do not ever turn to another human being and tell them that they are lazy and worthless simply because they are struggling. Living is hard. Each and every one of us cries ourselves to sleep at some point or another. Again, the world owes us nothing. Even if you work hard, you will probably always fall short because no where is it written that hard work results in anything favorable. And if you are enough of an ignorant fuck to think that only "weak" or "lazy" people fail, then fuck yourself.

Have some goddamn compassion. All of this vaguely racist elitism is wearing on my soul. You really see what a person is like when you bring up Occupy Wall Street. There seems to be no level head left in the world.

Or read it better here.

Melancholia

2011-11-06T12:00:00.001-05:00

I can appreciate anyone who writes women well. It doesn't happen often. Even female writers do it strangely. You can be a normal, smart, interesting woman in your natural life, and then you sit down to write women who are static, helpless counterparts to dynamic male characters.

I'm excited to see this film for a lot of reasons. I have a kind of reluctant affection for Kirsten Dunst. I'm intrigued by such a personal story set alongside possible apocalypse.

xx

Admittedly, the Lars Von Trier scandal at Cannes peaked my interest. I think it's impossible to say what you mean in this world. Perhaps it was the wrong venue, or I don't know... the English language was his handicap. But I don't think it's appropriate to say "I sympathize with Hitler" in any language. He clearly isn't a Nazi, and I think it's all a bit of a shame that there are just things that you aren't allowed to say. Thoughts are at home in their own world in which all connotations are understood. When thoughts are translated into words, they lose something. In order to understand one idea, you must explain another, and so on. It's impossible to be entirely understood by another human being through words.

These are the moments when I'm ashamed to call myself a lover of the English language. She has so many pitfalls. So many buried grenades. So many ways to be misunderstood. Forgo the character limit. Let him explain.

Here, a prayer on this Sunday morning: Let us all have unlimited words at our disposal. Let us always speak before a compassionate crowd. Give us the strength and the space to explain.

Julian Plenti {Paul Banks} [Games For Days]

2011-11-05T02:24:00.000-04:00

I realize that this is gratuitous.
But I can't go through life knowing that the man I marry
will never look at me the way he looks at her at 1:50.
I'll die a happy woman, for sure.

Nevermind, It's Yours

2011-11-03T02:18:00.000-04:00

photo credit: SuzyTheButcher

I have to ask you,

are those things that you demand

still considered gifts?

The way this is going, it could either be a horror film or a love story.

2011-10-31T00:33:00.000-04:00

sadie w. harris

I am, of course, prepared for both.

Anomie to the worst degree.

2011-10-28T22:04:00.000-04:00

I love the south. I really do. I've lived here long enough to know it well and to say I grew up here. I don't say y'all or speak with any kind of accent, but I have a deep affection for the people and varied landscape. Driving through Mississippi makes me cry from the sheer beauty of it. Alabama terrifies me. I fantasize about Tennessee. I saw my brother's birth in North Carolina. I lived alone in South Carolina. And Georgia, of course, holds the most memories. The place where I graduated high school and tried grits and made love for the first time.

That said, I don't belong here at all. I'm still an alien. I have a warm smile but cold hands. I don't want to invite you in for tea or anything else. Give me a real, live city. Give me 80 degree highs and below-zero lows. Give me alcohol on Sundays. And I'm just going to say it, and I don't want you to judge me: The nearer to Canada, the closer to God.

The other day, I checked the weather in Kenosha and tears came to my eyes in the middle of a crowded train. I thought, "What am I doing here? How did I get here?"

Not tomorrow or next year. But sometime before I'm 30 years old, I'm going to get out of here. Mark it. It's said: I'm going back to Wisconsin where I bloody well belong. And nothing-not even an old superstition (that one should not die in the place where they're born)-is going to stop me.

Believe me, I'm not cut out for this place.

Midlake [Roscoe]

2011-10-25T21:21:00.000-04:00

Lately [All Things Shining]

2011-10-23T20:01:00.000-04:00

"There is no life in thee, now, except that rocking life imparted by a gently rolling ship; by her, borrowed from the sea; by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God. But while this sleep, this dream is on ye, move your foot or hand an inch; slip your hold at all; and your identity comes back in horror. Over Descartian vortices you hover. And perhaps, at mid-day, in the fairest weather, with one half-throttled shriek you drop through that transparent air into the summer sea, no more to rise for ever. Heed it well, ye Pantheists!"

-Herman Melville

Moby Dick

Lately {I wanna be next to you.}

2011-10-23T19:16:00.003-04:00

1. A shame we have to adhere to society's rules, darling.
+I'd take you any way I could have you.
2. Rereading Moby Dick and savoring every word.
+Each word is delicious. I needed to be older to truly understand the greatness of this book.
3. Recently moved to a new place after an embarrassingly long stretch of couch surfing. I'm excited to kick off winter as it should be: with people I like and in a place where I feel safe.
4. Nearly ready to relinquish my lone wolf status.
+sad to see it go, but
5. Him.
6. The Marvellettes, The White Birch, + Twin Sister
7. No one knows what these months have been like.
+the dust
+the paranoia
8. I've been on a long journey. And now I'm back. Now what?
9. "Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian."
10. I can smell the advent of my favourite season. The season of birth. I feel more alive already. I feel the dust shaking off. This will be memorable for sure. I feel like I can already remember before it's begun.

Girl Crush.

2011-09-19T08:58:00.001-04:00

Lately [Ask Me. I won't say no. How could I?]

2011-09-17T08:24:00.000-04:00

1. Listlessness like absolutely no other.

2. Wanting desperately to escape the city.

+not a vacation

+forever

3. Feeling like I can either tell the truth or stop talking altogether.

+lying and pretending has become too hard.

4. Whiskey every night, but still in bed before 12am.

5. A lot of time spent here.

+or wasted, really. It's hit or miss.

6. Hey, this one's for you:

+Living is really hard. Thank you for carrying the fire anyway.

+I feel less alone knowing that you're doing it too.

7. Back to a pack a day. Cigarettes are my longest running relationship.

8. I could write a book on how to be a shit friend.

+working on it.

9. If you can believe it, I'm actually feeling pretty carefree these days.

10. Or you know, as carefree as I get.

+but let's be honest.

Heard Somebody Say,

2011-09-15T21:06:00.000-04:00

“I'm not telling you to make the world better, because I don't think that progress is necessarily part of the package. I'm just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To try to get the picture. To live recklessly. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it. To seize the moment. And if you ask me why you should bother to do that, I could tell you that the grave's a fine and private place, but none I think do there embrace. Nor do they sing there, or write, or argue, or see the tidal bore on the Amazon, or touch their children. And that's what there is to do and get it while you can and good luck at it.”

-Joan Didion

We are gathered here this day.

2011-09-15T19:07:00.006-04:00

photographs by Mario Testino for American Vogue

[Holocene] Bon Iver

2011-08-30T17:14:00.012-04:00

I told the boy when you dream about bad things happening, it means you're still fighting and you're still alive. It's when you start to dream about good things that you should start to worry.

The Road, Cormac McCarthy

I spend a lot of time thinking about what I want from all this. That's what it's about, as selfish as it sounds. I wouldn't miss people. I wouldn't miss the din of a city--the traffic or sirens or the loud laugh of a drunk woman at 1am. I wouldn't miss the facelessness. You end up feeling like an ant, really. To and fro all day long. Passing from one task to the next. I know that it's not just city life. Is it American life? Is this the new meaning of the phrase "human experience"?

I want to escape inside this video. When I was a kid, my imagination was so powerful that I could live entire days inside of movies. I was Belle and Cinderella. I could exist inside books and songs. Even as a teenager, I could close my eyes and become The Strokes.

I don't know, now. It doesn't seem enough to be able to pretend to be elsewhere. To pretend that your boyfriend is Mr. Darcy when he clearly is not. To pretend that concrete and asphalt is a vast, glittering ocean. At some point, you look around and realize that this life is not the life you imagined, and that you have to stop deluding yourself if you ever intend on building what you want in reality.

I can see how people go mad from want of a better life.

364 Days Too Many

2011-08-28T17:13:00.007-04:00

I don't know what I expected living in Atlanta to be like. I want to be upbeat about it. I want to write something full of perspective that conveys all of the conflicting emotions I feel about living here. I want to tell the truth without being too sentimental. But let's be honest.

I want to tell you about my first real brushes with urban culture. How Erick and I tried to learn the "Donkey Kong" during a rap show in Little Five Points. How we came up with "tag names" and wrote them in Sharpie beneath a bridge on Moreland Avenue. Riding bikes in a mob at midnight feeling young and wreckless and angry and free for the first time in a very long time.

I want to tell you about my favorite bar, and how the sidewalks that lead there are an obstacle course of low-hanging trees. The same bar where I got to know whiskey and how to Just Say No to any man who buys you a drink after midnight. How I Just Said Yes to the man who kissed me in the Krog Street Tunnel at 3am--and how everything in the world seemed to be made of lights and graffiti.

There was the epic snowstorm and an apartment full of hippies on their way to California. There was the Interpol show and meeting Paul Banks. There were full nights spent crying alone in my apartment wondering if it was normal to feel homesick for this length of time. There were visitors--some who ended up staying!--and sleepovers and new friends and enemies.

It's lonely. It's terrifying. It's boring. I've been taken advantage of by people who know better, but I've also met some extraordinary people. People who make me feel at home. People who keep me from whining so much. People who (amazingly) like me.

I'll wrap this up. I'll tell you what it is. It's not the ideal city, and it's not become home, but it's where I am at the moment.

[Boogie Wonderland] Earth Wind and Fire

2011-08-07T18:21:00.000-04:00

This is my house. This is my home.

2011-08-05T20:05:00.000-04:00

photography by Alan Mogensen

Good photography is just real life as told by a really good liar.

[I'll Be Seeing You]

2011-08-04T15:23:00.005-04:00

I'll be looking at the moon,

but I'll be seeing you.

By the way,

2011-08-03T22:49:00.000-04:00

I saw a documentary about Annie Leibovitz recently. A true photographer--a person with a camera, a vision and the will to execute it--can do extraordinary things. Somehow, Leibovitz manages to capture moments that are simultaneously what is and what we wish for. She makes fantasy and reality equally appealing.

Lately [31 Days]

2011-07-31T18:27:00.003-04:00

1. Living as far on the edge as I've lived in a long time. Maybe my entire life?

2. Mind was blown.

+Each word I read these days changes my life entirely.

3. I almost don't want the summer to end because there's so much riding on the winter.

4. Oh, and I met someone. Who knows what will come of it.

+this is here as a reminder of When It Started.

5. I've been compelled to think quite a bit about death.

+At least twice.

+And all I can say is that life and the world can be so terrifying that it's incredible that we still do it. That we get out of bed and face each day. The idea that there are people out there whose lives are so much worse than mine fills me with such dread--never gratitude.

6. Every day, I consider quitting smoking.

+it gives me a good laugh.

7. Gym/Work/Read/Repeat

8. So much time spent in Augusta.

+The birth of a nephew.

+Brother's return from Germany.

9. I don't dread this place anymore, you know. I am never more ready to face Atlanta than when I've spent some time here.

10. I talked to someone about you. You're doing well. Good.

Man did it better.

2011-07-28T18:13:00.000-04:00

landscapes by Richard Currier

[Anonanimal] Andrew Bird

2011-07-24T15:33:00.000-04:00

Hold on just a second
Don't tell me this one you know
I know this one I know this song
I know this one I love this song
Hold on just a second
Don't tell me this one you know
i know this one I know this song
I know this one I love this song
I know this one

Heard somebody say,

2011-07-22T23:59:00.001-04:00

"Be regular and orderly in your life like a bourgeois, so that you may be violent and original in your work."

-Gustave Flaubert

You don't know what it's like to love somebody the way I love you.

2011-07-20T23:16:00.000-04:00

Have I introduced you to my niece and nephew?

I thought seriously about moving back the other day. Teaching them to hopscotch, blowing bubbles in the back yard, and being the human horse will do that to you. Seeing them smile and their eyes light up--I want to be a part of that. I want to be a big part of their memories. And now there's a new one (a boy, Caleb, and a total surprise) and I should've been here for it. I shouldn't come down for the aftermath. No, I should've been in that room with my sister like the last time.

I want to do the right thing by them. Not just them--my entire family. It's funny, and I don't know if I'm the only one who feels this way, but I can't trust my own mind. I never know my own motives. I don't know if I want to run back to Augusta because I want to be there for them--for this--or because I feel like I'm failing in some way in Atlanta. Or because I feel like I'm about to lose it again.

It was a blip, though. I know the truth and that is that I can't come back here right now. Not when I'm discovering so much about myself.

Sometimes, maybe, doing the right thing by someone means showing them how strong you can be. By showing them the breadth of human possibility. If I love them, why not show them that I (and in turn, they) can do anything?

But know this: there are only a handful of people to whom I can say the words "I love you" with any sincerity, and I intend to do right by those.

Lately [Une Femme Est Une Femme]

2011-07-17T00:13:00.009-04:00

All you need for a movie is a gun and a girl.

-Jean-Luc Godard

[Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground] The White Stripes

2011-07-16T15:24:00.002-04:00

Any man with a microphone can tell you what he loves the most.

Diorama

2011-07-10T22:59:00.000-04:00

Artist: Noemie Goudal

By the way,

2011-07-08T21:55:00.001-04:00

Nothing hurts as much as things unsaid and undone.

[i like my body when it is with your] e.e. cummings

2011-07-06T17:59:00.002-04:00

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you quite so new

Human Nature

2011-06-19T21:12:00.000-04:00

Photography by Anna Shelton

"A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings, while incense is ever flowing from the balsam bells and leaves. No wonder the hills and groves were God's first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord himself. "

-John Muir

When people find out that I'm (barely) a college dropout and have no career in mind at all, their inevitable question is this: "If money weren't an issue, what would you do?"

Here is the answer: I'd build a beautiful cabin in the Ozark hills. In the winter, I'd listen to Bon Iver and sit quiet and still in the kitchen with the doors and windows flung open to let the cold air in. I'd press my palms against the wooden table. In the summer, I'd walk for miles and set up camp and stay for days and then return home--sweaty and exhausted. I'd buy a gun and teach myself to shoot. I'd practice shooting until my hands cramped and my shoulders bruised. I'd build a darkroom and spend hours watching photographs bloom in the developer.

Those people who say, "If I won the lottery, I'd still work..."? Those people are not me. I'd live for a living. I'd never let cash pass through my hands again.

I won't answer that silly question again. So stop asking.

[Calgary] Bon Iver

2011-06-16T13:11:00.002-04:00

joy, it's all founded
pincher with the skin inside
you pinned me with your black sphere eyes
you know that all the rope's untied
I was only for to die beside

so itʼs storming on the lake
little waves our bodies break

there's a fire going out,
but there's really nothing to the south

One day, we will look back on this and laugh.

2011-06-15T00:01:00.000-04:00

Photography credit: Wolves & Bucks

Usually, the protagonist wakes in the end to find that it has all been a dream. I will awake to find that it has all been reality, and that--oh my--I've slept through it. Alongside the life I'm living is another life, and each has a rich history and a cast of characters. At some point--perhaps too late--the two will merge.

The waiting is beautiful and painful, and I am defined by it. By every early morning coffee and cigarette and every moment dreaming on a train, this life is cemented further. I think of each piece of china I've held, each time I've pressed my fingers against another person's skin, and I feel that it's been a practice round for my other life.

My point is that each moment I spend thinking of you is not a moment wasted but my two lives running close enough to touch.

Lately [In the sun sun having fun.]

2011-06-13T12:03:00.000-04:00

1. Finally able to call Atlanta home for better or worse.
2. Learning to accept what I have heretofore considered my failings.
3. Popcorn, frozen yogurt + cigarettes.
4. Moving again.
5. Discomfort with any display of sexual attraction from strangers.
6. Amos Oz
+Rhyming Life & Death
7. Intuition
8. June is my favorite month of the year.
9. Listening exclusively to Interpol again.
10. Tan lines and brown skin.
11. 9 months in Atlanta with no intention of returning.
12. But I miss you, and I still love you as much as I did on the day I left.
+This has been my one failure.

In the Fashion of End Times

2011-06-12T06:44:00.000-04:00

Credit: Trine Søndergaard

He walked out into the gray light and stood and he saw for a brief moment the absolute truth of the world. The cold relentless circling of an intestate earth. Darkness implacable. The blind dogs of the sun in their running. The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.

--The Road
Cormac McCarthy

Maybe, after the apocalypse, I'll take up anthropology. I'll even go to school.

Lately [Half a Year in Twelve Photographs]

2011-06-10T17:05:00.000-04:00

Reprise

2011-06-10T17:00:00.000-04:00

Cut off your hair, O Jerusalem, and cast it away, and take up a lamentation on high places; for the LORD has rejected and forsaken the generation of his wrath.
Jeremiah 7:29

I'm attracted to the idea of rebirth. I'll jump at any chance at it. A haircut. A new journal. A new job. Each one a chance at becoming new myself. A sunrise can bring me to tears for the sheer promise of hope. I like to move--like to see my belongings packed and in transit. A city skyline growing from a fertile horizon speaks volumes: yesterday has past away, and everything is new.

I'm convinced it's why I stuck with Christianity as long as I did. Jesus was crucified, but on the third day, he rose again. Like God himself, each day, I am new. Washed clean. Transgressions divinely cast away.

Of course, it's a lie. A heartbreakingly beautiful lie, but nonetheless untrue. It's also sentimental, and not something I am likely to let go of any time soon. But I've learned that some truths can only be told through rose-colored filter of a lie. Isn't that the method of all art?

Freud insisted that a person's temperament is fixed by the age of six. The foundation laid, our lives are spent building on six years of experience. We can never destroy who we are, but wouldn't it be nice? To decimate the old and replace it with something better? How many attempts would one be allowed?

And even if Freud is wrong, only a privileged few will ever experience total amnesia. To forget is to be reborn. If you cannot remember who you are, then you are free to be anyone.

We are not all so lucky.

So we must build--each experience laid alongside the last. Each memory mortared together. The mind straining beneath the weight of mistakes that will never be shed--repaired, perhaps, but never gone.

After a nearly six month hiatus, I would like to say that this is a new beginning for me. Instead, I'll merely point out that a lot can change in six months. You'll have to forgive me if I am not as I was then. I assure you, nothing has been destroyed.

The ongoing list of things I've learned from Susan Sontag:

2010-12-21T23:36:00.000-05:00

- Grow older and do not apologize for it.
- Do not take life as it comes--take it for all it's worth.
Take it constantly and straight up and vehemently.
- Embrace "Camp".
- Smoke until you're ready to give it up.

I couldn't stand the look in his eyes.

2010-12-20T23:32:00.000-05:00

By the way,

2010-12-20T00:39:00.000-05:00

I'm changing. I can feel something in me rising, and I am not ashamed though I know most will be put off.

Lately [Strange Days]

2010-12-19T23:54:00.000-05:00

1. Worry punctuated by moments of total clarity.
2. Going mainstream.
3. Talking too much. All of the time. Can't shut up.
4. Sharon Olds and Rilke
5. What are you doing New Year's Eve by Rufus Wainwright
6. Walking a fine line with him.
7. Writing this from Augusta, GA.
8. So many goals masquerading as New Year's Resolutions.
9. Role Models by John Waters
10. Objectifying men and undersexualizing women

Between us, there will always be another me.

2010-12-19T23:47:00.000-05:00

Don't ask for advice.
Every word tainted by
my desire for you.

photography via Lina Scheynius

Playlist

2010-12-19T23:25:00.000-05:00

Landscapes.

2010-11-10T23:16:00.000-05:00

photos by sacha dumain

[Blue Tulip] Bon Iver

2010-11-09T21:38:00.000-05:00

With every single cell of me
I'm going to make you mean
the words you sigh.

[All hail the advent of winter.]

By the way,

2010-11-09T09:36:00.000-05:00

I want to believe that all of these cities aren't the same.

Your neck smells just like hers did. Do you want someone? Are you lonely too?

2010-11-08T21:20:00.000-05:00

The things I miss are not simply people
or places I've eaten or bought coffee.
They aren't bars or the river or a certain smell.
They're an enigmatic combination of these things.

I've learned now that I've abandoned everything
and nothing. That I still live with a part of me
that is dead--like a phantom hand or a beloved pet that has died.

[Interpol/White Rabbits] 01/11/10

2010-11-07T20:53:00.000-05:00

Interpol/White Rabbits
The Tabernacle-Atlanta, GA
01/11/10

The photo quality is shit, but the memories are crystal clear. It feels like I've made a journey to Mecca, and I still feel the overwhelming excitement of it all. The final photo is of a handful of people I met while I was there including a future librarian, a non-couple from Athens, Tennessee, a mother and son from Orlando, Florida and a young Frenchman named Sam whose favourite song is Leif Erikson. The following video was not shot by me, but is the closest to my vantage point as I can find.

Someone tell me where I've been so that I can know where I am right now.

2010-11-01T13:54:00.000-04:00

Even as you're writing it, you want it to be true. You want the doubt--the self-preserving doubt--to go away just for a moment. Let me have this. Even as it fades--the reality or what you perceived to be reality--you beg it to stay. It's the same with epiphanies and the memory of good dreams: if they last too long, you cannot trust them. They become useless. Hollow. You beg them to stay, but they can't. Tangled in the web of your mind, they can't last. Suffocating in the stale air.

What place is this, what region, what tract of the earth? Where am I?

It's not real. You have to remind yourself that it's all in your head. Even if it doesn't last, none of it exists anyway. You can't touch it. People don't see it when they look at you. But when you open your mouth, you imagine that your tongue and teeth and gums are all covered in blood. The words are black mold--less alive than mold. Dirt. Soil. And people can see it--see them crumbling in your throat and threatening to spill out. Then, it's real. But when you open your mouth, people see only pink and white. All healthy teeth and gums and tongue like theirs. Maybe a bit cigarette stained.

Beneath the sun's rising or beneath the turning point of the icy Bear?

There it is. It's gone. If you're lucky, you get a word out before it disipates. If you're very lucky--and this is very rare--when the word escapes, there's someone around to catch it. Mostly there's someone around, but no one can catch. We're a team of second string players. Third string. "Can anyone here catch? You're up. You're up."

You cling to something that says, "You're different," but your mouth is the same. Everyone thinks that their mind is complex. Everyone would believe that they are The Exception and that everyone else is The Rule. But no. No, none of it is real. Don't you understand? You want to write, "They think that I'm flesh and bone like them," but even as you write it, you know that it's not true.

What air is this I breathe? What soil lies beneath my weary frame?

How blood turns red when it hits the air is how it is. Except, all words turn gray. Again, it's all in your head. People don't see it. People see lies where they want to see lies and truth where they want to see truth. People--you included because you're no different--they see hands and feet and hair. They see clothes and cars. They'll remember that you wore the same pants yesterday befrore they recognize what your face looks like when you want to die. They will remember the street that you live on before they recognize the sound of tears in your voice. Even flesh and blood is too much.

Even what's real isn't real to us. Even tangible things slip through our notice. You never have to worry about being found out. Being found. Even the things we're looking for, we never see. Is it really the truth if it escapes your notice entirely?

Surely I have returned to earth.

----------------
Italics belong to Seneca

Heard somebody say,

2010-10-31T13:53:00.000-04:00

Psalms 53

2. God looked down from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand, that did seek God.

3. Every one of them is gone back: they are altogether become filthy; there is none that doeth good, no, not one.

I almost believe that they're real.

2010-10-29T14:26:00.000-04:00

Susan

Erick

Dan

Tristan

James
portraits 2008/2009

You have to be careful not to place meaning where there is none. Well, it's something that I have to be careful of. I look back at some of these photos, and I think, "Did they know then?" Susan, did you know then? I have the luxury of asking you.

Dan is someone I knew vaguely while living in Augusta. I hadn't seen him in years. And then, three days ago, working in Decatur, GA, there he was. I thought that I was halucinating. Did he know, years ago when I took that photo, that we would run into one another again? He's a knowing kind of guy. It's possible.

The discomfort I feel around Tristan. Did he know, when I was taking the photograph (even as drunk as I was), that I was too uncomfortable around him to actually speak? That I needed my camera because I don't know what to say? I'm not sure if Tristan is a knowing kind of guy.

When you photograph a man, you have to be careful--very careful--because men reveal truth without realizing it. Women, we're all intention. It's written all over us--in our faces and eyes and the set of our mouths. But men, caught in a frame, surprised by the click and whir of film, tend to reveal themselves unwillingly. Unfortunately, I'm never prepared for what I see.

[A Fictional Account]

2010-10-29T13:54:00.000-04:00

Listen, I was here once about
two years ago on a day like
today. The sky was heavy
with impending rain. Rain that
was probably already falling
south of here. That day which was
very much like today.

I have this book, now, and I'm
digging through it. Digging through it
like I did years ago just before xmas
thinking, "He would like this. I'll
buy it for him. I'll pretend it's a
xmas present."

Now I'm digging through it. Digging
through it wondering what I saw of you
in these pages. Something
incendiary, I'm sure. I was
always filling you with meaning that
may or may not have
existed.

You were Bukowski and Ferlinghetti. You
didn't care about women, but
I was not a woman, and
you cared about me.

You were Hemingway and Rothko.
You were Matisse, but I never saw you
create anything.

So I created things for you and
sometimes gave you things like
books of poetry and mix-CDs. And
sometimes I created chaos for you
so that maybe, one day, you would
create something too. Or at least
have something to talk about with friends
on a Saturday night.

I put a lot of things into you
hoping that they would come out
the same way. Words I'd hoped
you would send back to me
unprocessed but charged with
meaning (surely your mouth is lined
with it?)

I took the mysteries and the
gaps in my knowledge, and I
filled them with my best guesses.

The beauty of it was that
I would never know the Truth.

Understand, now, this isn't a selfless
thing I did. I'm still hoping for
a return. Maybe I'll even
create something too.

You're out of sight and
less in mind, so this might be the
last thing that I give to you unless
you're lucky enough that I'm the one to
write your eulogy.

No one has lost you
more than me.

And when we go into the darkness, and we will go into the darkness, and when we go into the darkness, we will go with our heads high.

2010-10-27T16:00:00.000-04:00

Heard somebody say.

2010-10-27T15:00:00.000-04:00

"...all the people there were intensely real, wildly alive and totally meaningful, and I alone was a dream, a figment which had never really touched anything. I felt that I was not, never had been and never would be a living part of this overpoweringly solid and deeply meaningful world around me."

A Separate Peace
John Knowles

Lately [I would not be able to explain if asked.]

2010-10-26T13:19:00.000-04:00

Lately [Mary Tyler Moore Syndrome]

2010-10-26T13:13:00.000-04:00

1. Constant worry punctuated by brief, tenuous periods of happiness.
2. Books.
-No One Belongs Here More Than You by Miranda July
-A Separate Peace by John Knowles
-The Compassionate Carnivore by Catherine Friend
-The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan
-The Fifth Column (and four stories of the Spanish Civil War) by Ernest Hemingway
-Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now by Andre Jordan
3. Central Park West by John Coltrane
4. Interpol at the Tabernacle on Nov. 1
5. People here are exactly as they are back home. There are just more of them, and that is the thrill of it.
6. Elizabethtown and old dreams
(what I've learned is that, if I want something badly enough, it happens, and only when there is no Plan B can Plan A truly be realized.)
7. The appearance of an old friend--comfortable as though years had not separated us.
8. Pay phone calls at night from a place that is much closer than it seems.
9. Transportation.
10. Aloneness bordering loneliness.
11. I now live in Atlanta, Georgia, US. Send me an email with your address, and I will send you a letter (or something just as good) from a place just north of where I used to be.

Jet Plane

2010-08-29T13:00:00.000-04:00

OUR SEPARATED CITIES will return October 2010

If you follow this blog even a bit, you are aware that I'm moving to Atlanta. The escape is in full effect. I hope against all hope that I will not have to use that tag for a long time.
I've given quite a bit of thought to what I'm to do with OUR SEPARATED CITIES while I'm in the process of establishing myself in a new city. This, in no uncertain terms, means that I'm abandoning this project. In truth, I intend on using this hiatus to document my first few months in Atlanta, work on the arts I have neglected and to become familiar with this new place.
Lastly, thank you for all of the well-wishes and support. There is a lot of fear ahead, but there is also great joy, and I look forward to documenting it here!

Marchel

[Neon Bible] The Arcade Fire

2010-08-29T12:20:00.000-04:00

[and of course, the magazine ripping is my favourite part.]

There was a time I could move. There was a time I could breathe.

2010-08-29T12:05:00.001-04:00

[by Billy Und Hells]

"I'm not going to be the person you expect me to be anymore."

2010-08-28T20:56:00.000-04:00

[Barricade] Interpol

2010-08-28T20:54:00.000-04:00

Another reason that autumn is golden.

Lately [That's why I said I relate.]

2010-08-27T15:42:00.001-04:00

1. no updates because moving has been all-consuming.
2. an attempt to quit smoking that lasted all of five hours.
3. stress stress stress punctuated by moments of calm.
4. an extraordinary fullness and desire to meet life head on.

poetry
photography/art
music
theatre

5. the overwhelming desire to dedicate my life to education.
6. a series of somewhat daunting predictions.
7. pool hopping by day; bar hopping by night. summer nears its end.
8. an impending internet-hiatus which shall be explained.
9. curating the house while maintaining the landscape.
10. last night, driving home (regrettably, with a blood-alcohol content that was higher than it should have been) I wasn't thinking about you. I wasn't stressed about moving or fretting about the relationships that will probably die as a result of this move. Last night, I turned the radio on, kept both hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road. And that is what I intend to continue doing.

"There is heat in freezing. Be a testament."

2010-08-20T23:31:00.000-04:00

[found at BLEED FOR FASHION]

400th post

2010-08-18T20:54:00.000-04:00

I've got a lot on my mind. But I feel... light.

photo by sacha dumain.

We carry on.

2010-08-18T20:48:00.000-04:00

in·trep·id

Pronunciation: \in-ˈtre-pəd\

Function: adjective

Etymology: Latin intrepidus, from in- + trepidus alarmed — more at trepidation

Date: 1680

: characterized by resolute fearlessness, fortitude, and endurance

— in·tre·pid·i·ty \ˌin-trə-ˈpi-də-tē\ noun

— in·trep·id·ly \in-ˈtre-pəd-lē\ adverb

— in·trep·id·ness noun

"Be still and know that I am god." Psalm 46:10

2010-08-18T20:27:00.000-04:00

Don't click away just yet. I have to put this here.

This is Miah. I met him through a friend, and we only spent a short time together before he moved to North Carolina, but it was enough time to be grateful to know him.

The thing is, at first, Miah is hard to be around. He's ceaselessly positive. No kidding. He appears severe, but honestly, I have never heard the guy say a negative word. That takes some getting used to in this world where everything is weighted in pro's and con's and preparation for the worst.

The thing is, I have to remember that people like Miah seem happy because they are. Because they believe that good things will come to them. With him, it's not at all an act. It's the inherent belief in the joy and the greatness of living.

So the story goes.

2010-08-16T03:21:00.000-04:00

By the way,

2010-08-16T02:55:00.000-04:00

I won't die in Atlanta. 2 or 3 years max. Because I know that I said that I love it in the south, but the truth is, I belong in a colder climate. In order to be happy, I need to be frozen 9 months out of the year.

[Blood Bank] Bon Iver

2010-08-16T02:49:00.000-04:00

Well, I met you at the blood bank
We were looking at the bags
Wondering if any of the colors
Matched any of the names we knew on the tags
You said, "See, look, that's yours!
Stacked on top with your brother's
See how the resemble one another
Even in their plastic little covers"

And I said I know it well

That secret that you know
But don't know how to tell
It fucks with your honor
And it teases your head
But you know that it's good girl
Because it's running you with red

Then the snow started falling
We were stuck out in your car
You were rubbing both of my hands
Chewing on a candy bar

You said, "Ain't this just like the present
To be showing up like this"
As a moon waned to crescent
We started to kiss

And I said I know it well
That secret that we know
That we don't know how to tell
I'm in love with your honor
I'm in love with your cheeks
What's that noise up the stairs, babe?
Is that Christmas morning creaks?

And I said I know it well
I know it well . . .

She & Him

2010-08-16T02:09:00.001-04:00

{I met a guy, and he doesn't compare at all to you. You're smarter. Harder. Mean, even, in a way that's thrilling and compelling. But he's witty and has an easy smile. And best of all? He'll be where I'll be. And I hate it [hate it. hate it.] but you never, ever were where I was.}

photo#2: wolves&bucks
photo#4: billyundhells

[A Place for My Stuff] George Carlin

2010-08-16T01:38:00.000-04:00

This more than sums up my feelings about moving.
It came at a perfect time. In the midst of my misery, at 3am,
alone in my hotel room in Atlanta. There was a PBS special, and
there was George Carlin.

The universe has a way of fixing itself.

Act I, Scene I

2010-08-16T00:37:00.000-04:00

Journal Entry for Friday, 13 August 2010 written on the patio at Java Lord's in L5P, Atlanta, GA.

"I think, for the first time in 5 days, I'm actually relaxing. And when I relax, I have direction. It's easy when I think about it.
The thing is, I had a moment of--it's something of a combination of dread and panic, but more of the former. Mostly dread. Most often, I feel entirely conflicted. Like, I feel a thousand emotions. But in that moment, lying in bed at the Sheraton, I felt a very sick, homogeneous combination of those two emotions alone. The feeling people must get when they marry a person that they don't love. A sinking feeling, but worse. Deep and slow and pervasive.
This feeling is almost as terrible as regret. But regret is all-consuming and sudden like a shot to the soul. This feeling is different. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular. It came directly from my subconscious. A specter from some deep, worried part of my mind. As though I was subconsciously concerned for more than my present situation--concerned for my total existence.
I was tempted to call it the deepest form of self-doubt. The kind that forces you to question your ability to go on living as a human being.
This was not quite that. That would be hyperbole, I suppose.
Right now, I feel simultaneously relieved, worried, homesick (for a place that I've never been), nostalgic, awkward, unsettled and ironic. All of these things now. And this ambivalence is a kind of home base for me.
The truth is, I've been shaking for days. Trembling.
But I don't want to go back to Augusta, and that has to mean something. It means that I'm not going to give up. I've considered it--just staying in Augusta. What made that thought pass immediately was that I would never live it down if I did it. It would go on the record of what everyone thinks of me. But what seals the deal has less to do with that "image".
This fear means that I'm doing something new and perhaps beneficial. But above all, the alternative is worse. Do you hear me? The alternative is worse by many times over. And there's a principle that I more or less live by in this life and that is that it doesn't matter what you do: stay or go, do or don't; it will only alter your life. Not for better or for worse. You won't get out alive, and no matter what, there will always be moments of despair.
So, I will be living here come September. The reason boils down to this: why the hell shouldn't I? I'm still young (and I don't mean this in a reckless way.) I can't really make any mistake that will ruin everything. Worse comes to worse, I'll just end up in prison. Or dead. And neither of those things seem like things I couldn't bear."

[Lazy Eye] Silversun Pickups

2010-08-09T00:30:00.000-04:00

Everyone's so intimately rearranged
Everyone's so focused clearly with such shine

If I had a dime for each time you were on my mind...

2010-08-08T23:48:00.000-04:00

Perhaps that chair, when you arose and passed
Out of the room, rocked silently a while
Ere it again was still. When you were gone
Forever from the room, perhaps that chair,
Stirred by your movement, rocked a little while,
Silently, to and fro. . .

Sometimes--usually at the 3am hour with a cigarette in hand--you come to mind. And it's strange. Strange how feelings pass over us like shadows. Strange how an emotion can burn hot and strong for years narrowed to a few astral moments. Strange how they die almost imperceptibly until all that remains is the stale air of the room in which the two of us shared breath.

I'm not broken up. I've got a lot on my mind, and I'm generally preoccupied with other things. Know this: I do not think of you constantly or with glassy eyes. But when the shops are closed and the bills are paid and no one is around to hear about the weather, sure, I think of you.

But anymore, I don't care about that knowing look on your face. I don't care. It's water under the bridge.

Ah, I am worn out -- I am wearied out --

It is too much -- I am but flesh and blood,

And I must sleep. Though you were dead again,

I am but flesh and blood and I must sleep.

-from Interim by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Out of Character

2010-08-08T23:09:00.000-04:00

The Georgian Terrace Hotel

By the way,

2010-08-08T13:18:00.000-04:00

NOTE TO SELF:

Be gentle with yourself. It's OK. It's OK.

Lately [I am utterly consumed.]

2010-08-08T12:44:00.000-04:00

1. I'm not sure that I have the mental or emotional stamina to do this alone.
2. Escape. Escape. Escape.
+this word has many meanings to me lately
3. RENT
4. I'll be so glad to be gone because I can't take living so close to him.
+the saying is out of sight, out of mind. but clearly, I have to get out of this town.
5. Looking forward to the Interpol record more than anyone should.
6. Same goes for the winter.
7. More, now than ever, I'm understanding what I want out of this life.
8. rereading Two Years Before the Mast by Dana

Mantra

2010-08-08T12:27:00.000-04:00

I won't cry. I won't cry. No I won't shed a tear.

2010-08-03T00:37:00.000-04:00

Today was a rough day. I needed this.

By the way,

2010-08-02T20:08:00.000-04:00

I am utterly overwhelmed.

For everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.

2010-07-30T20:01:00.000-04:00

I have an inspiration board in my room that I started, eh, about four or five months ago. It was a way for me to wake up and see my goals in front of me--not trapped inside my head or journal. Admittedly, there are times when I wake up and want to rip it from the wall. I take things too seriously. I get caught in my own web of wants and can'ts and one days and maybes.

But waking each day and being confronted by the things that you want out of life can be therapeutic.

[inept.] procrastinate me

2010-07-30T13:06:00.000-04:00

inept.
tomorrow's escape, we fail to understand that
change
between the silence of six and that of eighteen
is a damp web
centred in what cigarettes and cask wine
cannot dry.

the suggestions of
a history dictates
cheek kisses do not give
and hand shakes do not take.

what you need to do is simple;
what you will, and can, is not.

today is taking knowledge
from untrained teachers and the
aspiration of change.
growing older is not the answer.
________________________

her blog can be found here.

Lately [Boots and fists to pound on the pavement]

2010-07-28T01:39:00.000-04:00

1. Planning. Constantly. And it's coming along swimmingly.
2. A lot of things to dread. A lot of things to anticipate.
+[constant email checking]
+[getting rid of the unnecessary]
#[there is a lot of unnecessary]
3. Elephant by Raymond Carver
4. living out of boxes
5. pining [in part, I believe, because I'm so stressed. But when his name is brought up in conversation, my day turns technicolor. the move should help eradicate thoughts of him altogether.]
6. apartment hunting from 200+ miles away.
7. want. want. want.

Lately [Ask how my day went]

2010-07-28T01:13:00.000-04:00

This is not the sound of a new man.

2010-07-28T00:46:00.000-04:00

Our Separated Cities is one years old today. It began with zero followers and a post about Bon Iver. 379 posts and 13 followers (many of whom have contributed to and inspired this blog) later, it's still going strong.

I can honestly say that this has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life, and I look forward to the months ahead.

Between you and me...

2010-07-23T21:54:00.000-04:00

[photos via
wolves&bucks
& E.Doe]

[Heaven Can Wait] Charlotte Gainsbourg ft. Beck

2010-07-22T20:01:00.001-04:00

Heard somebody say,

2010-07-22T19:28:00.001-04:00

"Children prepare for a sea voyage with a toothbrush and a Teddy bear; they equip themselves for trip around the world with a pair of odd socks, a conch shell, and a thermometer; books and stones and peacock feathers, candy bars, tennis balls, soiled handkerchiefs, and skeins of old string appear to them to be the necessities of travel, and Amy packed, that afternoon, with the impulsiveness of her kind."

--John Cheever
"The Sorrows of Gin"