This is the most inspiring video I’ve seen in a while.
Watch. Listen. Be aware.
David Foster Wallace’s commencement address to the 2005 graduating class of Kenyon College. It is, without a doubt, some of the best life advice.
In love with this project!
“My local library branch started doing this “Blind Date with a Book” thing, thought you guys might like it. The shelf was full when we got there, but was like this as we were leaving. The books are wrapped in paper and have different designs on them, and then a few words vaguely describing the subject matter of the book. Things like “Drama”, “Plot Twists”, “espionage”, etc. The only thing exposed on the book is the barcode that you use to scan the book out. I thought it was a pretty cool idea.”
here we go, all i loved in 2012 .. over and over, and over
That’s the paradox: the only time most people feel alive is when they’re suffering, when something overwhelms their ordinary, careful armour, and the naked child is flung out onto the world. That’s why the things that are worst to undergo are best to remember. But when that child gets buried away under their adaptive and protective shells—he becomes one of the walking dead, a monster. So when you realise you’ve gone a few weeks and haven’t felt that awful struggle of your childish self — struggling to lift itself out of its inadequacy and incompetence — you’ll know you’ve gone some weeks without meeting new challenge, and without growing, and that you’ve gone some weeks towards losing touch with yourself. The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they did’t live boldly enough, that they didn’t invest enough heart, didn’t love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.
Ted Hughes in Letters of Ted Hughes
Song: “Love Is Everything” by Jane Siberry
How Many Words Is That Tattoo Worth?
Be it the symbolic stamp of a life-altering experience, the constant reminder of a lost love, or just the product of some late-night revelry, every tattoo shares one thing: a story. San Francisco illustrator Wendy MacNaughton and Rumpus managing editor Isaac Fitzgerald have made it their mission to condense these stories into the delicately drawn, concisely potent posts that comprise Pen and Ink — a blog of illustrated tattoos and the tales behind them.
But what’s their story? We talked to Wendy and Isaac about their tattoo philosophy, and how life, in essence, is really mastering the art of the mistake.
Who’s idea was Pen & Ink?
WM: It was Isaac’s.
IF: It was Wendy’s.
WM: Isaac, stop. It was yours.
IF: OK, well, I knew Wendy’s art from working with her on The Rumpus and have always been in awe of her amazing ability to capture a story with her drawings. Most tattoos, to me, represent some form of narrative, so when I thought of trying to capture the stories behind peoples permanent ink scars I immediately knew that Wendy had to be a part of it.
My code of life and conduct is simply this: work hard, play to the allowable limit, disregard equally the good and bad opinion of others, never do a friend a dirty trick, eat and drink what you feel like when you feel like, never grow indignant over anything, trust to tobacco for calm and serenity, bathe twice a day … learn to play at least one musical instrument and then play it only in private, never allow one’s self even a passing thought of death, never contradict anyone or seek to prove anything to anyone unless one gets paid for it in cold, hard coin, live the moment to the utmost of its possibilities, treat one’s enemies with polite inconsideration, avoid persons who are chronically in need, and be satisfied with life always but never with one’s self.”