“Deep reading — the kind that you engage in when you get lost in the syntax and imagery and the long, convoluted sentences of a really meaty book — is a special sort of exercise that creates a new part of the brain that did not exist at birth.
“It’s semi-miraculous, really,” said Dr. Wolf, the director of the Center for Reading and Language Research at Tufts University. “We don’t have genes for reading. It’s an activity we invented, and by doing it, we show that our brain has the capacity to go beyond itself, to take all these circuits that were created for oral language or vision, and do something entirely different with them — deduction, critical analysis, imagination, contemplation.”
”
I watch you through the window,
Walking,
Your back to me.
.
Walking,
You watch me through the window;
My back to you.
“Night fell, and the guests began to arrive: artists, politicians, actresses, the old, rich, concerned citizens of Los Angeles, and Wladimir Klitschko, the Ukrainian heavyweight champion…. Teacups of borscht and tiny devilled quails’ eggs went around on trays. Tavi Gevinson, a thirteen-year-old fashion blogger with a small, pale face and Mia Farrow hair, had flown in from Chicago and was dressed in Rodarte. (The Rodarte sisters were her babysitters for the night.) “God—Hamish!” she said, swooning a little when she saw Hamish Bowles, an editor at Vogue. “He’s the coolest.” At the dinner hour, Gevinson took her place, along with Gwen Stefani and Brad Grey, at the table of Dasha Zhukova, a twenty-eight-year-old Russian contemporary-art lover and oligarch’s daughter who was an honorary co-chair of the event. (Roman Abramovich, another art-loving oligarch, is her partner and soon to be the father of her child.)
Performance art was on everybody’s mind.
”
Impressions by the The New Yorker’s Dana Goodyear of “Ballet Russes Italian Style (The Shortest Musical You Will Never See Again),” by Francesco Vezzoli, an Italian artist known for his “meta-spectacles.”
“That afternoon, Lady Gaga rehearsed in a tent, which had been erected for the gala on the street in front of the museum—it was draped in red satin and velvet and displayed a movie-palace marquee out front…. She took the stage slowly, in the manner of a boozy granny. It might have been her shoes: spike-heel black patent-leather lace-up dominatrix boots, paired with ripped fishnets, a studded leather vest, a black leotard slit to the navel, and sunglasses that never came off. Her hair was a tangle of white-blond cotton candy streaked with pink. It matched the piano—pink, with cobalt butterflies painted on it—customized by Damien Hirst.”
(via literarypiano)
(via alexbalk)
“Nobody wants to go to their computer and read about what you had for breakfast and how it called to mind your boyhood, which morphed into a meditation on the relationship between life and art and, by extension, a metaphor for all social interaction,” said Sam Alger, 24, who claimed to be “disgusted” by his friends’ constant Novelling. “But some of them, it’s all they do. It’s like no one just talks to you for hours and hours on end any more.”
“We get it: It’s not just your story, but through its striving to explore basic human commonalities, it’s everyone’s story,” Houston gas station manager Angie Ordway said. “That doesn’t mean I want to go through hundreds of them whenever I open my phone.”
YACHT
It’s Boring/You Can Live Anywhere You Want
…
These desperate times
Call for desperate measures.
In these conservative times
You’re making conservative art
And it’s boring, boring, boring, boring,
It’s boring, boring, boring, boring,
It’s boring, boring, boring, boring,
It’s boring, boring, boring, boring,
Us all to death.
Fantastic Mr. Fox - Chapter One: The Three Farmers
Since it’s now 2.48am, it was yesterday that I decided to video record myself and friends reading Roald Dahl’s book Fantastic Mr. Fox.
I’d never read the book as a kid, but when I got a copy free with a box of cereal, I decided I’d right that wrong.
Over the coming weeks, I/we will record each chapter, posting one a day for the next 18 days.
I won’t reblog the whole series. Head over to sherwynj for this thrill ride.