JAK&JILL
3/2/10
3/1/10
2/28/10
Stop Lights
I walk a lot. It's about a ten minute walk from my home to the train, and it's about the same from the apartment I go the second most often. There is a strange thought process behind walking in the city that doesn't usually go much further than barely being noticeable in our heads. It's not really talked about unless, maybe, you and some others are under the influence. But this is also highly unlikely.
We walk from block to block. In between our paths on the sidewalks are streets, where cars drive, and at the edge of these intersections are traffic lights. There are red, green and yellow circles for vehicles and the electric white outlines of walking men, orange hands and and orange blinking hands for pedestrians.
Sometimes we're halfway down the block, and if we're by ourselves with clear heads usually we are, by default (and as walkers), looking ahead to the electric pedestrian sign in front of us. If it's the walking man, we'd like to make it there in time to cross, in time for either the walking man to still be lit or at least for an orange hand to be blinking, which means "You can walk, but your time is running out." When the walking man changes into one of these blinking hands, we usually walk a little faster. If we're in a huge rush, we might run.
We'd like to make the light.
This is all easily relatable to life, off of the grid (but do we really lead our lives off of the grid, ever? That's for another time).
So, what gets in our way? What slows us from getting to the light before it changes?
Often times it's strangers. Sometimes they're not going at the pace we'd like to be going, but it's hard to get around them.
Other times it's not that they're walking slow. Sometimes the strangers actually stop us to speak with us. For instance, tonight a man stopped me for money for the subway, he told me he was "stoned" because he'd just left the bar. I had to stop for him because he stopped me. But a few minutes later a woman motioned at me and with her hands asked for a cigarette. I didn't have to stop, I only slowed, to tell her I was smoking my last one.
Sometimes we're distracted by things that don't directly stop us, like people who look interesting to us, places that look interesting to us, etc. These things, most times, do not want to slow us, but we slow ourselves.
The importance of the destination can also play a role in the speed at which we try to get to the end of each intersection. But aren't all of our destinations linked? Usually, they are.
Somehow, I want to tie this song in. But it may not actually work. I think Amy Winehouse is a really intelligent writer, especially "Love is a Losing Game." Her older stuff is incredibly smart, too. The words to this song are so on point when it comes to being in any sort of relationship with someone who is not on that same page as you, for whatever reason that is. It's about other things, too.
We walk from block to block. In between our paths on the sidewalks are streets, where cars drive, and at the edge of these intersections are traffic lights. There are red, green and yellow circles for vehicles and the electric white outlines of walking men, orange hands and and orange blinking hands for pedestrians.
Sometimes we're halfway down the block, and if we're by ourselves with clear heads usually we are, by default (and as walkers), looking ahead to the electric pedestrian sign in front of us. If it's the walking man, we'd like to make it there in time to cross, in time for either the walking man to still be lit or at least for an orange hand to be blinking, which means "You can walk, but your time is running out." When the walking man changes into one of these blinking hands, we usually walk a little faster. If we're in a huge rush, we might run.
We'd like to make the light.
This is all easily relatable to life, off of the grid (but do we really lead our lives off of the grid, ever? That's for another time).
So, what gets in our way? What slows us from getting to the light before it changes?
Often times it's strangers. Sometimes they're not going at the pace we'd like to be going, but it's hard to get around them.
Other times it's not that they're walking slow. Sometimes the strangers actually stop us to speak with us. For instance, tonight a man stopped me for money for the subway, he told me he was "stoned" because he'd just left the bar. I had to stop for him because he stopped me. But a few minutes later a woman motioned at me and with her hands asked for a cigarette. I didn't have to stop, I only slowed, to tell her I was smoking my last one.
Sometimes we're distracted by things that don't directly stop us, like people who look interesting to us, places that look interesting to us, etc. These things, most times, do not want to slow us, but we slow ourselves.
The importance of the destination can also play a role in the speed at which we try to get to the end of each intersection. But aren't all of our destinations linked? Usually, they are.
Somehow, I want to tie this song in. But it may not actually work. I think Amy Winehouse is a really intelligent writer, especially "Love is a Losing Game." Her older stuff is incredibly smart, too. The words to this song are so on point when it comes to being in any sort of relationship with someone who is not on that same page as you, for whatever reason that is. It's about other things, too.
2/26/10
2/8/10
2/7/10
CLUTCH, MODEL
THE SLIM SUEDE ASPHALT BY SOFIA COPPOLA FOR LOUIS VUITTON
BACKSTAGE GIVENCHY HC SPRING/SUMMER 2010:
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