INSPIRATION

“Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown”

I remember peering down at 3 am from a loft party on Beach street in Boston’s Chinatown in the late 90s. Eyes gazed onto a sudden onset of hookers, dead of winter, fur coats scrupulously flashing bikini-clad bodies to passing cars in sub-zero temperatures.They’d cruise around the block, only to return within minutes and repeat as I watched in awe …

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The Original DIYers

If you’re anything like me, you’re old enough to have had grandparents who survived the great depression, the utmost faction of survivalists who knew how to fix the hell out of anything. “Waste not, want not” was the creed. My grandfather had a beautiful used, Oldsmobile Delta 88. “Beautiful Used” was a good thing back then. Nowadays, you buy a cell …

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An Open Letter To The Subway

I’ve been riding you for some time now. Your windows are like movie stills. In the first scene, a homeless man sleeps off a drunk oblivion. He’s still, but you speed him away as I watch from the platform. What did Einstein say? The speed of light is finite, but we’re in two different spaces. I can’t pretend to totally …

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Why I’m A Pro-Sex/Pro-Celibacy Feminist

I remember visiting London in the 90s–the phone booths were plastered with T&A ads. I was the stereotypically shocked American, raised on “goodness” and “Catholicism.” We can all see where that went. Anyone catch the flick “Spotlight”? It was quickly explained to me by my British friend that sex isn’t nearly as much of a big deal in Europe as …

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How Thinking Too Big Can Kill Your Creativity

As artists, we tend to think in huge, Herculean hurtles. After all, we are dramatic…and that’s GOOD. The problem is that we have been brainwashed into thinking that more (all at once) is not only better, it’s more plausible than step-by-step momentum. Blame it on our consumer-driven society or early teachers who stuck our artistic child into a corner. “This painting lacks depth” or …

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Hold Still My Heart, Broad City

Guess who’s back, bitches? Last night’s season premiere of Broad City was like salve on a burn. Literally, ‘Two Chainz’ was blood, sweat, tears, and levity. It’s one of the few shows that can get me to do that noiseless gyration (the mob scene in the pop up store was perfect). The show’s airiness paired up with a strong dose …

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