The Edge of the City

Creative Writing major getting headaches doing history research.

as for we who love to be astonished: Beginners

attheendofthesky:

In this film with Christopher Plummer, his son makes a book
called The History of Sadness. Mother, when I say the history
of sadness, I mean the day I was born. Tomorrow in Australia
and Japan, I will turn twenty years old, and I have been kissed
by two boys and three girls. When…

theninecrimes:

We are also used to narratives coming to an end in some way and having some resolution and conclusion, and exploration isn’t always going to have that, and maybe it never does. These endings are sometimes artificial. And so the best that I can hope for is an ending that doesn’t preach or teach, but maybe subverts in a way that echoes or provides a coda to the exploration. So that was my hope in this. (x)
Upstream Color - Shane Carruth, 2013 

beingstowarddeath:

“A LOW AND DISTANT SOUND GRADUALLY SWELLING AND INCREASING”

U P S T R E A M    C O L O R (2013)

dir. Shane Carruth

Anderson’s films, like the boxes of Cornell or the novels of Nabokov, understand and demonstrate that the magic of art, which renders beauty out of brokenness, disappointment, failure, decay, even ugliness and violence—is authentic only to the degree that it attempts to conceal neither the bleak facts nor the tricks employed in pulling off the presto change-o. It is honest only to the degree that it builds its precise and inescapable box around its maker’s x:y scale version of the world.

“For my next trick,” says Joseph Cornell, or Vladimir Nabokov, or Wes Anderson, “I have put the world into a box.” And when he opens the box, you see something dark and glittering, an orderly mess of shards, refuse, bits of junk and feather and butterfly wing, tokens and totems of memory, maps of exile, documentation of loss. And you say, leaning in, “The world!”

—Michael Chabon (“Wes Anderon’s Worlds” | The New York Review of Books)

(Source: tornbread, via cussyeah-wesanderson)

What I’ve been learning over the course of my life is that diagnoses exist to help get people services they need— but there’s no such thing as mental illness. We’re all mentally ill and we’re all haunted by something, and some people manage to find a way to ride it out so that they don’t wind up needing extra help. So I think that “mental illness,” as a term, is garbage. Everybody is in various states of needing to transcend something. I believe in mental health care, but when we call people “crazy,” we exclude them from our circle. That’s bogus— you’re in the same boat as they are! Maybe some people are better at pretending they don’t harbor all kinds of issues, but, really, everyone has them. Everybody experiences reality in a way that’s only true for them.

—John Darnielle, Pitchfork interview

andtentoes asked: haha well i appreciate the fun fact. how did you find out about that?

Well, I live in NM, and Trinidad is just north of the border.

Other than that, I get trapped (“It’s a trap!”) into all these conversations with a co-worker who basically spills every random factoid  she’s ever learned from reading celebrity gossip blogs and watching reality TV shoes on cable.

In fact, I’m glad you appreciated that fun fact, because many of my brain cells were killed to obtain that information (wow, I’m really feeling high-schooly with all these semi-inadvertent Star Wars references).