inspiration station:
1. so much color, color, color
2. Nubby Twiglet has you covered in her typofiles typography ahoy!
3. oh the divine beauty of ampersands
4. giggles are aplenty at theoatmeal.com, a few of my favorites are how to ride a pony & how a web design goes straight to hell [heheehehe]
5. this:
Just a small town girl, livin in a lonely wooorld.
i’m all that and a dime-sack.
And if you don’t know, now you know. You know very well.
take another picture with your click click click camera.
Stop calling stop calling i dont wanna drink anymore. I left my head and my heart on the dance floor
i think i hate february.
and feel that it should be passed on.
When you hear that I have died, think of this.
Think of cool nights breezes while you walk to meet your friends for a beer on a Thursday. Think of waking up in flannel sheets on a snowy morning and kissing some one you love. Think of hung-over diner break fasts and the best cup of cof fee in the world. Think of the sound of tires on seamed high ways while you travel, think of French kissing and leather jack ets and push-up bras and bour bon, think of the joy of hard work with friends. Then think of me.
Not sad, not the melancholy solitude of empty skies, but the full days and crowded bars and signed con tracts, a smile too big for my face, remember I said I stay busy enough to fit three lives into one. When you hear that I have died, know that I want laughter, and dancing, real dancing, to music that makes you move with out think ing, you’re wearing boots and jeans and a great t-shirt and wondering if the girl at the edge thinks you’re cute. And you moth er fuck ers had best DANCE, none of this bull shit rock-nod hands-in-the-pockets shoegazer non sense, no, make an ass out of your self, feel your hips, kick off the high heels and sway on the shoul der of a stranger, when I die, you’d bet ter be laughing your ass off on side walks, eating deliciously unhealthy food, drinking shots and tip ping your bar tender well no matter how much money you make.
And Adam has to read the poem he wrote, and Laura, and June, and Scott Carpenter has to play “Don’t Go Away, Chloe”, no fuck that, every musician I’ve ever made out with or video taped or road-tripped with has to play, so drink some coffee, baby, it’s gonna be a long night. When you hear that I have died, the best thing you can do is to get laid that night with a com fort able stranger, use my story to get their sympathy, and when you kiss them for the first time, think of me then.
When you hear that I have died, and you will, remember your best revenge is to live well, take risks, save up money and chase your per fect happiness. Beat the system and learn to make your art really support you, craft into some thing your audience can’t live without. Then make the world an even slightly better place — stop throwing your cigarettes on the ground, vote in the next elec tion, graffiti your life on the eyes of the hungry.
Then just do me one last favor. Please. Love some thing. Any thing. Start with yourself, but find pas sion in every thing, from an apple pie to a novel, make a fam ily, get a degree, walk what ever path is yours with your chin up and feet planted firmly. Have the best stories to tell in the old folk’s home, about life long friend ships and epic love affairs, about the time you lost every thing and yet found your self happier than when you began.. and remember that time we got in SO much trouble…
Poets.. remember. This is the story that never ends. When one of us leaves, another walks through the door. The pages turn, the sun keeps rising. All you can do in the mean while.. is to speak for your self. Raise your voice high, tell your story, join hands against the dark and sing our souls to the sky. Know the best in me comes from the best in you, that as you tell your story, you will be telling mine, and our lives will be linked together for ever, and every one who hears you will become a part of the change we make.
So when you hear that I have died..
just ….live.
–Gabrielle Bouliane
much love.
i fly so high, i fly so high. don’t touch me now.
watch me rise.
Santigold, american singer and producer, is extremely difficult to describe. She’s like the fantastic love child of the yeah yeah yeahs and M.I.A., with a pinch of the Pixies, dash of New Wave, and a teaspoon each of Blondie, No Doubt, & 80’s pop. Sort of. Intriguing.. yes. Catchy? yes! Go forth and rock.
L.E.S. Artists [mind you, this music video is a little strange, its a tribute to the cult film, the Holy Mountain… but excellent none the less]
I’m a Lady [a personal favorite, however this is one of those kinda awkward fan videos but its still cute! yay]
Creator [me im the creator, thrill is to make it up]
enjoy!
Still we’re not robots inside a grid.
I hate tests. Bleeeh.
why yes, i would love to stay awake way past my bed time anddd watch vacation.
I’m so excited about the #radicalselflove month. found the best totem & decorated my notebook :]
