what we wear impacts how we think and how we remember.
There’s a phenomenon known as “enclothed cognition.” It’s the scientific way of saying what we wear impacts how we think and how we remember. — Eika Veurink
There is a green, not so much neon, not so much moss, slightly kelp. It’s a sharpness that invigorates, that forces the day to bend at 3PM for a coffee break, a broken carb to enrich the afternoon’s value.
place, movement, complacency, and the changes we make.
Space is the rearrangement of our fluctuating values of time, money, opportunity, attention and privilege.
I’ve lived in different parts of the world, tasted different parts of California.
I can tell you that Oakland lets in so much light in the summer while San Francisco can be shrouded in gray dew on the same day.
Sounds of Mischief, waking up in marijuana-reeked linen. Broadway during the day, Blue Bottle without WiFi forces you to look at the morning, people’s shoes, people’s problems, faces. …
britney, paris hilton, bennifer, and the fall of Afghanistan
It’s a joke.
A big fat joke.
Towers, I’ve been told, fell over on fire.
Smoke rose from the soot-filled faces of New Yorkers.
I flipped through the channels looking for The Simpsons.
My evening cartoons were nowhere to be found.
I was one of those people that found Britney Spears to be crazy.
She was ruined and would be gone like the rest of her hair.
I remember the magazine covers, the umbrella in her hand, the wide earth in her eyes, how she towered over a car window, breakage.
or how the past becomes suddenly present, and the present seems mediated by the long passage of years.
When death occurs, the internal and the external meet.
Your eyes drip with tears and your heart rips open.
Your knuckles go white and your stomach croaks.
My father died when I was sixteen.
For my mother, it was tougher than war.
She came here for the American dream.
Me, I was just born with it.
Marriage was taken away from her. All fifteen years of it. To cope, she bought a cemetery plot right beside him.
On a Sunday after church…
what’s the most important work you do?
“Would you like to share lives together?”
When heard, romantic implications arise.
When “romance” is said, marriage montages play out, and naturally, we think “til death do us part,” but why do we disregard friendships and communities, natural floor plans to any relationship?
We forget the work we do everyday.
Talking to another person.
Good morning text.
wat r u doing?
how r u?
It is the unseen work.
Such basic questions evolve over time.
How do you feel about this?
What are you thinking about?
Can we talk?
Though it’s not my…
why you’re still spring cleaning in summer
some first steps in looking at objects from another lens.
I’m at this strange influx of productivity and unproductivity. In this odd grey area, I’m learning to care more. More about myself, all the tedious bits. All the parts I’ve neglected after years of procrastination.
Someone who has helped me get to this frame is Brittany Bathgate. She’s a style influencer of all things fashion, books, film, and more. In her thirty minute vlogs, she promotes slow living, where she rambles on and on about a singular shirt, how much history it holds.
what does intimacy look like in a post-pandemic korea?
bringing ‘touch’ back into our physical vocabulary.
God knows how long I’ve held a hand. I’ve often wondered what intimacy will look like when all last year has been spent away from people, from touch. I often wonder when it’ll be safe to be held by someone again.
We live in the humid climate of rampant hate crimes that gutter us waist deep in poorly written infographics ripped straight from pre-made Canva templates. We regurgitate it all in our story-shares and retweets for all of it to feel like faux-allyship, and, even worse, substantial advocacy. Sharers even stress over the fatigue of it. It’s nonsense, but I am at fault too: I am a coward.
I left the United States because of the Trump administration. I admit, this sounds satirical. I was a part of a bad joke, but when I finally moved abroad, my anxieties…