watched this last week and was blown away by linda manz. not only a fantastic teen performance (rare) but a shock of a performance period. she's fiery and tender despite herself. great voice. woulda changed my life to see this at 13.
worth watching just for her but also for this one scene, won't spoil, with dennis hopper & a bottle of whiskey that is maybe one of my favorite things i've seen in a film.
this is mostly a reminder for myself but fr NEVER let them put you in a box!!! never let being beautiful stop you from being weird never let being weird stop you from being normal never let being normal stop you from being curious and smart never let being smart stop you from being a stupid dumb idiot never let being a stupid dumb idiot stop you from being ugly and never let being ugly stop you from being beautiful💜
my lovely roommate (at the time) took this pic while we were climbing the portico of san luca in bologna. we were breaking about every 2 minutes because ive got asthma lol. it was a hard and long walk (666 individual porticoes 😮) but so undeniably worth it. the difficulty of climbing the stairs made finally getting to the top all the more cathartic. when you come around the final corner of the never ending stairway, when you’re almost to the top, a cross reveals itself sitting just beyond the final stair. the sun was setting when we were finishing our climb, and the cross was backlit so beautifully. i was so exhausted from climbing, it felt like the divine and sacred thing that was going to save me. i have never been religious. im incredibly skeptical, even fearful of faith, and i generally reject organized religion for many reasons. but when i saw that cross, and put the last of my strength into reaching it, just for a minute, i got it.
her lesser known memoir. she has a very particular and magical way of seeing the world. in this one she moves from the present, to the complex world of her dreams, to the past, and back again. she lives alone in manhattan with her cats and travels for work often (she accepts invitations to give readings or hold concerts and the like) but when she is home, she frequents the same cafe, goes on long walks, and meets the occasional friend along the way. her free time abroad is spent similarly, and this is all intercut with her vivid dreams. and sometimes she dreams of the dead.
she tells stories of the other people she’s lost over the years - in addition to maplethorpe - with that unique perspective of her’s. i first read this a few months before the greatest loss i had (and still have) ever experienced would occur, and picked it up again after the fact, and again, and again, and proceeded to read my copy to the point of the book’s physical near-destruction (it is held together by scotch tape and scotch tape only).
i had a really hard time finding the good in anything after my friend passed, and the immense loss and grief patti wrote about in m train combined with the beauty she continued to see everywhere, the magic, gave me some hope.