Wherein I soil myself
Today I was promoted to Head of Motion Picture Preservation at George Eastman House.
That’ll do, Wednesday. That’ll do.
Neil deGrasse Tyson on how unrepresentative our representatives are
Reblogged for truth and also because I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS FOREVER.
- Fuck cancer.
- If you don’t know what “live your life authentically” means, you’re probably not doing it.
- I generally believe in the axiom of “the best camera is the one that’s with you,” however I also have a mile-long list of “yes, but”s.
- Paul Rudd needs to wipe that smirk off his face.
- Lately I’ve become aware that I can never remember what the skies look like in any of my dreams. I can recall the colors and textures of floors and walls and ground cover and buildings and water and such. But not the skies. Never the skies. I doubt it means anything, but it intrigues me nonetheless.
- We all have Way Too Much Fucking Stuff, and there should be a national day of Giving Shit Away.
Coffee, Wittgenstein and Galileo and Lenny Bruce, idle chatter, overdue responses, choosing shoes, handling contractors, eight paragraphs of consciousness, two lines of sorrow, one signature with a fountain pen, Fuji negatives, quick photograph, not enough stretching, an unexpected gift, pondering, worrying, wondering, connecting dots, a ‘eureka’ moment fizzles, cleaning up a spill, envying talent, scrambling to get something down on paper, over-criticizing, gasping for air, putting on my running shoes and out the door I go.