October 2, 2009
September 24, 2009
1 month ago • 4 notesFrame 552 of 1000 Frames of The Birds (1963).
From the wonderful 1000 Frames of Hitchcock.
September 13, 2009
(I don’t think I have a freak flag to let fly…more like a freak post-it)
July 23, 2009
July 14, 2009
July 7, 2009
June 18, 2009
We don’t need Chanel and Dior to drive our body fascism — we do that ourselves without attending a single Paris fashion show.
June 10, 2009
Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven by some demon whom one can neither resist or [sic] understand. For all one knows that demon is the same instinct that makes a baby squall for attention. And yet it is also true that one can write nothing readable unless one constantly struggles to efface one’s personality.
June 8, 2009
June 4, 2009



