I am 24 and I live in NYC, but I grew up chasing tumbleweeds and hornytoads in New Mexico. I like the arts, photographs, the web, and the city, and tend to wonder how each influences the other. I thought this might be a good place to collect a few of the million images, sounds and ideas I get distracted by every day. Welcome to my corner.
I also started a book club on Tumblr. Join up anytime.
And if you just want to say hi, please do. I write back.
i can’t believe you think that of me, (2006) by mustafa maluka
via the ny times
Afropolitanism is the modish tag for new work made by young African artists both in and outside Africa. What unites the artists is a shared view of Africa, less as a place than as a concept; a cultural force. This idea, or something like it, lies behind “Flow” at the Studio Museum in Harlem, a fine-textured survey of 20 artists who, with a few exceptions, were born in Africa after 1970 but who now live in Europe or the United States.
ends 6.29.08
click: flow @ the studio museum
click: the studio museum harlem
I really want to go.
A friend of mine in college was quite fond of referring to the “love food chain” to explain certain things, and it went something like this (v. simple): You are always bound, if you are a romantic, to be in love or at least intrigued by someone who cannot or will not reciprocate (or has no idea to begin with). Conversely, someone out there in the world is also harboring feelings for you, and you don’t want to acknowledge them/are oblivious/cannot deal right now. This may not seem to be the case, but believe me, it is, for almost everyone. And until you find someone to meet you in the middle, you will be in this sandwich, and rarely be aware of both sides at once. The rare days that you do know about the two people are not good days: when you realize you are both lovelorn and unable to give love, all at once. My friend called that the “bermuda explosion” or the “really blustery days.” She was a kook but I love her.
My friend A. is having one of those moments. Hang in there. The sandwich is temporary.