"Lady Stardust" Editorial for Framed Magazine Special Edition 2013
MUA/Hair: Jen Johnson
Styling: Colin Boettcher
Model: Jesse Stewart with Ford
Assistant: Chris Scott
© Cassie Doumas 2013
George Benson - Em
I’ve been thinking about age a bit lately. I realised that I’m the same age as the tumblr users I used to look up to were when I first joined tumblr, and it’s just really weird to think I’m that same person I was when I was 16. Same url and archive. This generation is literally growing with the internet.
I looked up and found The Big Dipper in the stars last night. I can’t even remember how many childhood cartoons must’ve subconsciously taught me that. Better than any books could. I passed to the left, pointing out constellations to those around me as people played frisbee amidst streetlights at midnight, celebrating Myles’ 20th.
But memories keep coming back
All the nights that we used to laugh
Wanna know how it used to was, how it used to was
today i learnt your dreams die only and if you tell yourself “it’s just a dream”.
Hiatus Kaiyote - Nakamarra
finally got a free time to draw this one
There are sounds that I’ve never heard, but only heard of. Like the sound of the great veil that ripped in two when Jesus died. I wonder whether Caesar’s voice was hoarse and rattling when he said whatever he actually said to Brutus, or whether the blood pooled silent and thickening beneath his back. I wonder what noises my little dog made when he was born, whether it was anything like the “shush” he made when he crumbled in my arms. What did the first cicada that ever existed sound like? Did it cry like it was mourning the sun back then too? When Ravel placed his index finger on B-flat, when Barber gathered his breath like a stack of worn love letters, when Hemingway pulled the fucking trigger, I suppose it was like the clatter that a deck of cards makes when it spills out of hands—loose and un-contained. I pull and I pull and I pull at the drawstrings, at the cursive of one man’s scrawl, in an attempt to see the line that separates day from night, but the universe is empty—three shot glasses collecting only what cannot be.
I tore my curtains in half this morning. Just to hear the end as it was meant to be.
Anonymous said: I often find myself afraid to do things, things that I really want to do, especially exploring. I tend to over-think things, worry aimlessly, and talk myself out of them... I was wondering how you do the things you do. How do you muster the energy to try new things? I've found a comfort zone, its fun but boring at the same time if you know what I mean. I don't want to always lead a safe and boring life, Could you recommend some steps to help me make life interesting and intriguing? Thank You.
you know, i know that feeling. sometimes i just stay in my house for days. i’m scared of a lot of things, especially minor mundane interactions with other humans. worrying about that sort of thing keeps me inside and away from everything. but for me, all i have to do is think about the great amazing things in the world, and how there are so many things it’s so unlikely that i will ever see. like, realistically, i will never ever get to go to my dream places, like gunkanjima or pripyat or a million others. that will probably never happen. but i can go to the places down the street, the creepy old bar or the empty diner or the abandoned house or the forest i’ve been to a thousand times, and those are places some other people will never see. so i start with a nice playlist of songs and headphones and walking. and then driving. make yourself make small movements. and every place is special and weird, even if you’ve been looking at the same old shit your whole life. your world is real and strange and obscure and novel to someone else. so start with that. and then keep going. and soon enough you’re far enough away, farther than you could have imagined.
I think I need a new profile pic. And a fresh theme. I might just remake my tumblr entirely. I feel like I’m beginning to actively achieve my mantra of “Quit mud. Conquer continents”. I’m thinking of changing it to “Everything Is Illuminated In Retrospect”. Either that or “Better In Tune With The Infinite”. Time is most definitely the teacher.
I want to ask myself “Why do I fall in love with every woman that gives me the least bit of attention?”. Recently I’ve been thinking, why not? Why not fall in love with every man, woman and child? Why not find the laughter of everyone beautiful, and the light in their eyes endearing?
Why not see a can of soup as art? Why not marvel over the craftsmanship of its shape and purpose and texture, or the design of the label? Why not think about how many people it took to produce that can? Two? Ten? Fifty? Or what it might become when its recycled; part of a plane that goes missing on a flight to Malaysia, or part of a car carrying the Archduke of Austria moments before he gets killed, sparking the greatest war the world has ever seen.
Why not take pleasure in never knowing whether you’re wrong or right?
Why not fall in love where possible?
I learnt what it means to fall in love on my way home yesterday. I think I’m falling in love with possibility. I can’t wait to meet actualisation.
P.S. Taking this into consideration, I’ve decided that mind reading is the worst superpower in the history of imagination.