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Gentle reminders from Robin Williams

“Reality is just a crutch for people who can’t cope with drugs”

“I’m sorry, if you were right, I’d agree with you”

“Comedy is acting out optimism”

“You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it.”

“I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone”

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Exulansis:

n. the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it - whether through envy or pity or simple foreignness - which allows it to drift away from the rest of your life story, until the memory itself feels out of place, almost mythical, wandering restlessly in the fog, no longer even looking for a place to land.

- From Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

With the passage of time, you notice your narrative begin to crumble. Small details go missing and your brain forces inaccuracies into the script. Were you wearing the blue dress, after all? You remember feeling the intangibility of the other, the restlessness in your thoughts. You remember the pines, the impression of the grass on your skin, the dog-walkers in the background, the occasional breeze. You remember hearing the words, read aloud, the delicately spoken baritone.

You choose to file this away for evidence later, to commit every detail in this very moment to memory, to hold it close. If you could sit here, for just one hour, not feeling the pressing concerns of the day, not thinking about what this means in the context of your life, you’d believe that all of the panic was worth it. Right?

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LA in snapshots. 

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Partial eclipse, as seen from LA. 

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Day hiking with my friend Danielle. 

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The rooms in purgatory resemble our living rooms and bedrooms and kitchens. They have the same carpeting and the same bathroom tiles. The windows are a little smaller though. 

And most of us walk or drive or bike to work, much like in the real world. 

And some of us stand patiently in line and say our thank-yous and our pleases and always try to be there for friends and eat the motherfucking kale and remember to floss and offer the best advice we’re capable of regurgitating. 

And many of us show up to things on time and remember anniversaries. 

There are moments of pride in purgatory. There are comfortable armchairs and air conditioning and used book stores. 

And all of us know where we are and what it is we did to get here. 

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You must never regret choosing to love.⠀ ⠀ Even if the road is paved with grime and destined toward chaos, and even if your legs start to buckle, and even if you cling to every moment because the inevitability of loss is the only guarantee you have, you must choose love, and you must choose it, always. ⠀ ⠀ You must choose it because it is hard. ⠀ You must choose it because it scares you. ⠀ ⠀ Because maybe, if you're lucky, you will find yourself fully human, fully present, intertwined, and for a second you will hear nothing but the sound of a voice quietly reading to you on a summer evening in the grasses, and you'll adore the world for giving you glimpses into an alternate reality.⠀ ⠀ And if the love is fleeting, you must still be thankful for it. ⠀ And if the heartbreak is crushing, you must know that it was worth it. ⠀ Because only the brave can love. 

Because you are brave for knowing.    ⠀ -⠀

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It’s a sweet and paralyzing kind of freedom, one that releases slowly over great lengths of time and strikes you at the least opportune, but most needed moment. It’s an act of rebellion, of love, to let yourself escape from the comforting layers, the cynicism, the mocking, the jabbing, the inevitable darkness. 

It’s an act of boldness to smile, and go on smiling. 

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Rachel Dooley. 

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Gravitational Anarchy

Model: Elle Hanley 

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Mycorrhizal Links Between Plants: Their Functioning and Ecological Significance

The earth is cold with nutrients for winter.

Beneath it: roots, sediment, basalt. 

Above it: trees, cars, worms, our frenzied footsteps.

Arguing about money, we slam doors and feel the rain hit our foreheads. We wake up early with headaches, make morning coffee, answer the phone when it rings.

And down below, a symbiotic network of fungi and plants carry messages to one another, exchanging sugar, nitrogen, and phosphorous while speaking of defensive measures and looking out for the weak. 

We walk upon the concrete, forgetful of the cobweb of delicate filaments, alive and tense and pulsing. 

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Rachel, with festival colors. Thinking of Udaipur.

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Akari.

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Kandie.