jan marie

Blogs to Follow

Things I love, for your reference and my own:

http://cabinporn.com/ - awesome pics of places I wish I was on holiday 
http://tumblr.tastefullyoffensive.com/ - everything funny about the internet in one place
http://buddhainteriors.tumblr.com/ - hip and hippie homes
http://awesomepeoplehangingouttogether.tumblr.com/ - self-explanatory
http://thedecorista.tumblr.com/ - lavish things on the interwebs
http://anditslove.tumblr.com/ - for when you want to fall in love with the idea of love

The ethics of quinoa

Quinoa, asparagus, soya. All yum, all terrible for being a citizen of earth. This picture really got me today, too:

act like you live here

We have all these devices and all this software yet it’s still impossible to hear the fall of light tears through a crackled connection to a phone in England. And that’s what’s important. Those are the times you need technology not to fail. Today I wanted the teleport machine. Today I wanted the future.
The past has been my focus for the better part of… my life, but now it’s all, well, in the past. There’s no going back and changing what’s been done, only doing what’s yet to come to pass. Just a shame I’ve missed so much waiting for it to be time to go to the moon. What a silly earthling I’ve been.

We have all these devices and all this software yet it’s still impossible to hear the fall of light tears through a crackled connection to a phone in England. And that’s what’s important. Those are the times you need technology not to fail. Today I wanted the teleport machine. Today I wanted the future.

The past has been my focus for the better part of… my life, but now it’s all, well, in the past. There’s no going back and changing what’s been done, only doing what’s yet to come to pass. Just a shame I’ve missed so much waiting for it to be time to go to the moon. What a silly earthling I’ve been.

via explodingdog / 1 month ago / 488 notes /
I want to kiss you.
Like big, fat kisses. Or angels. Or stars.
Or something. I don’t know.
Love poems never make sense to me.
Poets say things like “Your teeth are flowers.”
or “Your eyes are miracles.” But you
aren’t miracles. Or flowers. You
are some sweet boy with a good smile
and a shaky heart. Come kiss me.
I’m in love with the miracle of your body
beside my body.

- Love Poems, Clementine von Radics (via clementinevonradics)
via oofpoetry / 1 month ago / 4,531 notes /

The XX - Sunset

I saw you again, it felt like we had never met
It’s like the sun set in your eyes and never wanted to rise

I wish it could’ve been a little more like that, a little more like strangers. A little less laughter and smiles, my own that I hadn’t seen in a while. But there they were, erupting. And there I was, a blood-boiling need to remove everything and feel something. Itching to splay out on the mattress like someone who’d jumped out of their own skin off a tall building onto an unforgiving sidewalk. Take up all the room.

Somehow no matter how small the bed is, how close we get, the space is still seemingly infinite.

Like sleeping with an invisible spoon.

It never came to an end, and I can barely see you.

1 month ago / Played 0 times

RE: Brighter Than A Buoy - “A Couple Things I Forgot to Mention About Sex…”

Was just conversing with someone the other day about Carsie’s blog, which I had never read until this morning, when I decided I should go check out what all the hype was about. There are some fairly interesting (fairly fervent) posts on the topic of sex, one of which I just replied to, regarding the notion that sex is not a “big fucking deal”—and furthermore, that making it so, more often than not, causes some serious problems. That post can be found here.

I responded (which I never do anymore!), and thought you all might enjoy my musings, so here it is:

I love that you’ve acknowledged that there is no “normal”—and should everyone else follow suit in that empathy, I think we’d be much better off.

I disagree that sex is not a BFD *all the time*. Sometimes it’s not, often it can be. But making it a big deal doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It can be a real thing, or a thing that makes things seem real, or a glue that holds shabbily constructed relationships together. It’s powerful in that way. It’s not criminal; no. But it can have weight, if you let it. If you trust it to not go all cockamamy-bullshit-style panic attack.

I found it funny that you should remove both music and sex from the BFD category. I consider making music and making whoopie in the same category for the same reason: because I want the things I release from my body to mean something. I value strong relationships over strong faith or great knowledge or almost anything else, except perhaps expression. And you *do* acknowledge that sex is expression… but not that there is an end game to that expression, and that resultant product can mean something. 

When songwriting, that product is a song. It stands for you; Backbone stands for you, as does any and all things you create. The process you took to get to the product isn’t always evident to the viewer (read: your audience/fans), so I’m guessing you don’t factor it into “what makes my music, my music.” 

When fucking, that product could be a baby, a shared STD, an orgasm, or any host of other goodies. They stand for you, too. The little high you give someone, for example, can be your stamp. But the process (in this case, “the act”) stands for you too. The turn-ons and -offs, the pace of your breathing, the moans, groans, and fluid loans are all you, too. You are making an impression. You are still an artist, and you are branding yourself

People like me want to know what people stand for. So for artists, I read their blogs, look at their promo photos, I listen to their lyrics, see the way they talk to their fans. For others, I watch the way they deal with waitstaff, or talk to telemarketers, or to their grandmother. Then I see them in mood-lit bedrooms or lamplit alleyways and I see how they deal with light and dark and skin and clothes and hair. I see if they give or take or both (or neither!), and when they pull away. Sometimes (often) people are too closed down to see any of that, and then it’s just the equivalent of a T-Pain song—an auto-tuned replica of what came before it. But imo, if you’re lucky, BFD or no BFD, something is being created, expressed, stamped, solidified, left. You’re leaving something behind

What is happiness? It’s a moment before you need more happiness
- Don Draper, Mad Men
2 months ago / 1 note /
I like the chicken skewer. It all looks good. I hate fish. I was once attacked by a fish when I was a baby.
- my boss, in response to the menu options I sent him for our upcoming open house

Jake Armerding - Adonai

I recently met someone who ignited an entire part of my past I didn’t even remember still had embers. The part where I refused to pierce my ears because it’d be defiling the temple He gave me, where I thought that something bigger than humanity could save it, and that saving a part of myself for someone worth keeping around forever was a worthwhile quest.

My body was a gift. And I had a plan for it.

Plans were foiled, that’s all I’ll say. From that second on I wasn’t the same person. To this day, I don’t even recognize myself. 

I don’t have any plans to return to the days when I read The Holy Book instead of Scientific American Mind, but I do wonder who or what I’m living for, who or what I’m accountable to.

It’s hard to be your own compass when you’re missing the map too.

3 months ago / Played 0 times
This makes me so incredibly happy… :)

This makes me so incredibly happy… :)

 
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