I think that I’m drawn often to shorter works, works that feel focused, and earnest in trying to communicate something. I feel pretty content where others might not, simply glimpsing just a fragment of somebody’s life. I feel okay not knowing the character’s whole story. Instead, I like the intimacy of peeking in on a particular moment when someone is standing at a window, or walking along water, or trying to puzzle out some piece of their past that maybe doesn’t make sense. I feel excited myself by reading work that does that, even if there’s a kind of challenge in that. And writing these pieces, sometimes it felt pretty personal. So as a writer, there’s motivation there. Trying to capture a person, or even the idea of a person, in an important or strange or charged moment of their thinking—or just being—was enough for me.
The Rumpus Interview with Ashley Farmer (via therumpus)
My sentences are long, with no end and no beginning. My jokes are corny. I eat ice cream out of a tub and love left-over pizza. I mix vodka and tequila even though I know better. My hair is always a mess, and there is always smudged mascara somewhere on my face. All of my white shirts have stains. I can’t walk in heels, but I wear them anyway. I have strong opinions. I am passionate. I am stubborn. My will doesn’t bend easily. I am indecisive and a little bit lost. I seek comfort in books - I don’t trust people, I like music more than I like to talk. I have good days and bad days, and stay-all-day-in-bed days. I have dreams, and hopes and problems. I am chaos. I am a person. I am not a love interest. I am not a poorly written character your character helps define. I am not a line in a poem - I am the poet. I do not strive to be liked, I want to be loved. And if you can’t love me with my flaws you don’t deserve my love, for it too - is flawed.
m.v., It wasn’t me, it was you.  (via findingwordsforthoughts)
Until you’re about the age of twenty, you read everything, and you like it simply because you are reading it. Then between twenty and thirty you pick what you want, and you read the best, you read all the great works. After that you sit and wait for them to be written. But you know, the least known, the least famous writers, they are the better ones.
Rest in peace, Gabriel García Márquez. (via theatlantic)

vinceveretts:

Elvis photographed for Dig Magazine, San Diego, CA. , June 1956.


Natalie Wood c. 1950s


mayahan:

Hand Drawn Logos by Mike