Artwork in Chicago
Teens writing graffiti on the wall at the North Ave. Lake Shore Drive underpass, Chicago, Illinois, March 1985.. Photograph by Vanessa DuBiel.
I swear to god, if one more person tries to convince me that a blended frozen banana tastes like ice cream, I’m unplugging the whole internet
I have watched not two, but three different law students have silent breakdowns culminating in them dramatically laying their head on the table and falling asleep.
This never happened in Legally Blonde.
Happy six month anniversary to what was maybe (probably) (definitely) the best day-night-day of my life. Thanks, America.
I think of you
and the continents brilliant and arid
and the slender heart you are sharing my share of with the American air
as the lungs I have felt sonorously subside slowly greet each morning
and your brown lashes flutter revealing two perfect dawns colored by New York
see a vast bridge stretching to the humbled outskirts with only you
standing on the edge of the purple like an only tree
and in Toledo the olive groves’ soft blue look at the hills with silver
like glasses like and old ladies hair
it’s well known that God and I don’t get along together
it’s just a view of the brass works for me, I don’t care about the Moors
seen through you the great works of death, you are greater
you are smiling, you are emptying the world so we can be alone
Today I was walking through town with my mother (!!), in love with the sunlight between the trees and the sound of children at a carnival on the ped mall (there was a makeshift carnival on a Sunday in the middle of Iowa, of course there was, why wouldn’t there be? cotton candy. a dunk tank.), when I spotted Sam and threw myself at her with more force than probably necessary, considering that I am Very Tall and she is Very Not, but it felt important at the time because she is here! in the Midwest! where she belongs!
Sam once told me “I think it’s important to note that I’d live in a cardboard box if it meant I could be in the Midwest again” and she is the only person who understands that it’s okay that this building makes me cry and seeing her out of the literal blue was apparently enough to make me shout her name, which is not a thing I do, you know? So I’m sorry, but not really, and welcome home.
hello yes I just opened a bottle of champagne on the first try I would like my medal FedEx-ed to me