from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
I am sketching Bon Iver as he works in his music room. ‘I’m having trouble with the rhythm,’ he says. He taps a frame drum, tinkers with the temple blocks, and spends quite a bit of time with the castanets we brought back from Valencia, nestled in my beach towel. In my drawing, his brows are pulled together in concentration.
Finally he rises from his stool and comes to me. He places his hand over my heart and we are silent for awhile, breathing and waiting. ‘Yes,’ he finally whispers. ‘Yes.’
So hot
Bon Iver is mending the stone wall that separates our property from the neighboring farm. I watch him as he lifts the fallen stones from the ground, taking careful stock of each one, examining them for flaws, determining which belongs where. He is content with this task and pauses briefly to admire his work. I wonder how those capable hands, which spend the day rebuilding many broken things, can so easily undo me.
Syd Barrett, by Mick Rock
My boyfriend has this poster!
I FUCKING WANT THIS!
New York, 1922. The tempo of the city had changed. The buildings were higher, the parties were bigger, the morals were looser, and the liquor was cheaper. The restlessness approached hysteria.
My ethics homework… Hope bro rob enjoys it.
I want this hair!!!! It looks really cool!!!
