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If any of you still use this site: I’ll be posting at gymnopod.com from now on, so come visit sometime. 

Miss you, probably.

 -Ben (formerly virens, phantomfarm, William Robin, erasmusoxley, Bingo Rifle, Jonah and others that I can’t remember, probably)

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Sýrð Mjólk

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“But whether the visage we assume be a joyful or a sad one, in adopting and emphasizing it we define our sovereign temper. Hence-  forth, so long as we continue under the spell of this self- knowledge, we do not merely live but act ; we compose and play our chosen character, we wear the buskin of deliberation, we defend and idealize our passions, we encourage ourselves eloquently to be what we are, devoted or scornful or careless or austere ; we soliloquize (before an imaginary audience) and we wrap ourselves gracefully in the mantle of our inalienable part. So draped, we solicit applause and expect to die amid a universal hush. We profess to live up to the fine sentiments we have uttered, as we try to believe in the religion we profess. The greater our difficulties the greater our zeal. Under our published principles and plighted language we must assiduously hide all the inequalities of our moods and conduct, and this without hypocrisy, since our deliberate character is more truly ourself than is the flux of our involuntary dreams. The portrait we paint in this way and exhibit as our true person may well be in the grand manner, with column and curtain and distant landscape and finger pointing to the terrestrial globe or to the Yorick- skull of philosophy ; but if this style is native to us and our art is vital, the more it transmutes its model the deeper and truer art it will be. The severe bust of an archaic sculpture, scarcely humanizing the block, will express a spirit far more justly than the man’s dull morning looks or casual grimaces. Every one who is sure of his mind, or proud of his office, or anxious about his duty assumes a tragic mask. He deputes it to be himself and transfers to it almost all his vanity. While still alive and subject, like all existing things, to the undermining flux of his own substance, he has crystallized his soul into an idea, and more in pride than in sorrow he has offered up his life on the altar of the Muses. Self-knowledge, like any art or science, renders its subject-matter in a new medium, the medium of ideas, in which it loses its old dimensions and its old pace. Our animal habits are trans-  muted by conscience into loyalties and duties, and we become “persons” or masks.”

-Santayana

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Aya Kawabata

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Listen/purchase: A Shepherds Bumfit by Floral

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William Fields

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Listen/purchase: Chinatown (demo) by girlpool