Good Bones

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.

Good Bones by Maggie Smith


i was fortunate enough to see promises live last night—apparently the only-ever performance—and i am still kind of dumbfounded by the experience. rarely have i seen a show that the cliché words cannot describe what i just heard could be used, but if there was one, it was this.

not to mention, the description of the video above is absolutely wild:

Floating Points and Pharoah Sanders at Sargent Recorders in Los Angeles, June 2019. This was the first moment Pharoah Sanders ever heard the Promises composition, and his first take on playing. It became Movement 1 and the opening of the album.

the only bad part about the performance was, during the incredible quiets, two or three people had to decide to cheer or whoop while thousands of others remained totally silent. still, though, mind-boggling over all. rest in peace, pharoah sanders.

if i had wings

the coen brothers have made some phenomenal movies, but even though their masterpiece is considered no country for old men, i think inside llewyn davis is a slept-on 10/10. stunning performances, wonderful soundtrack, emotionally devastating, still finds levity. plus, a cat as a co-star. maybe i can just relate.

a letter