Oct 2, 2017
when you have out of town guests, you get tourist-y #ohben #benfranklin #grave #burial #elfrethsalley #philly #birthofamerica (at Christ Church Burial Ground)
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when you have out of town guests, you get tourist-y #ohben #benfranklin #grave #burial #elfrethsalley #philly #birthofamerica (at Christ Church Burial Ground)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Art & Meaning: Mourning humanity through art
I read an interview on Vice NZ done by a friend of mine with a famous artist, and what he mentioned in that has been bothering me - in a good way.
He speaks about the need for art to portray not just what’s beautiful and what we consider worth celebrating but also the harsh realities and the bitterness and pain that life is filled with. He speaks about the need for humanity to mourn the existence of pain and unexplainable heartache - and without it we simply cannot move on and rebuild a better future. Art loses depth when it intentionally becomes a vehicle for hype and pop-happiness. We need to shed light on the war, the depression, the heartbreaks and the disappointments that visit humanity all too often.
It’s true: the first step to healing is always mourning the loss.
Delhi
History invades your imagination in a city like Delhi. Your aunts tell you how amazing it is that hundreds of years ago, without the know-how and technology we have now, people committed and succeeded in building structures that still stand today unmoving and unshaken in its glory and pride. Even the doves that flutter out of its dusty windows feel ancient, like they are part of the story, the architecture, like they themselves have seen the likes of Babur and Akbar and Mumtaz walking underneath their all-seeing bird-like eyes. The trees, let me tell you about the trees, they brood by the side of the road, old souls, weary over time, wearied by the dust, but they command a reverence, their smell, their depth, their richness, their alive-ness, the sleepiness, their stupor that they seem to be in that may have lasted for centuries to your imagination. Sia didn’t think any of this. She knew too much about this ‘horrible city’. This city where dreams are crushed like the litter are crushed that cover the roads, crushed by trucks, rickshaws, auto-rickshaws, people, cows, dogs. This city that draws millions into its cloaky embrace with a false sense of warmth to realise that the warmth came from a fiery heat that was hidden in its ancient heart. I didn’t buy it. I was only visiting. I would picture Delhi as a harsh but beautiful goddess of sorts, blessing her fortunate devotees with the taste of her vivid and relentless existence. Sia rolled her eyes at me. But you must understand, she couldn’t see any of what I was seeing, or the way I was seeing it. She was a part of the mirage that was of course real. She wasn’t dressed in the sort of clothing that you’d wear if you were in Auckland or Singapore or even New York. Her leather sandals that flapped against her heels had a context, the scarf that hung languidly on her shoulder made her a part of this city’s story. If I were to paint a tapestry of what I saw and felt and smelt in that dreamlike country, she would be a part of it. So would my aunt be. And the beggar on the roadside. And the smell of ginger in the tea. And the auto-rickshaw driver this morning with a strip of cigarette dangling off the edge of his lips.
I feel like a bit of an outsider. I think it’s because I don’t really know anyone here. Nobody comes backstage.
Ben Whishaw on being in New York for The Crucible (x)
fans this is your cue to raid his dressing room and bring snacks and kittens because he’s very lonely and nobody likes him
[The chemistry between Ed and I] was purely my acting! He was a nightmare to work with, looks like the back-end of a bus.
Ben Whishaw on his co-star Edward Holcroft in London Spy
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In The Wilderness
In the wilderness you have no choice but to shut off from the world. There are no radio signals, no phone connections, no contact from those that love you and those that you love, no highways where you can call down a car and hitch-hike your way back to civilization to the comfort of the familiar warmth and lights.
In this wilderness it is just you. And just you. No one else. Nothing else. Even the mountains and the forests that you stumble through become an essence of who you are, and the parts of you that you are fighting to overcome, the winds that howl in your ears become the tormenting demons that you lived with, not knowing that there could be a way to get rid of them. The darkness and the shadows that you hide in become an extension of your secrets that you love and hate so much.
In this wilderness, you are being carried and dragged into. You kind of didn’t have a choice. You were directed here. You were told to go here and survive. And now you find yourself here, and though you feel the rush of adrenaline going through your veins, there are times in your loneliness that you’d rather be in the cities, buying warm food and hearing the sounds of the company that you keep.
But you find yourself in this wilderness. You are here. You will not emerge the same – if you even emerge from here. The options are limitless. You have to pick the paths everyday. Every hour the road forks, one going right, the other going left, sometimes there are four roads that lead away from each other. How do you know which one’s right? You don’t. How do you know if there is even a right one? You don’t. You cannot keep track of how far you have come or even make a sense of where in the grand picture you are placed. Sometimes you don’t even know if there is a grand picture anymore.
You are here.
You have to get through this. There is no way out but to keep going.
Why are you here? In the wilderness? For self-realisation? To find peace with myself? To become more one with nature? To be a better man?
None of these things. You are here to become a man, and your journey is a parable that the only way to be a man truly is to die, to spend yourself, to drown to all your desires, to smother all the selfishness and give yourself to other people. It is in the wilderness that you will learn how to kill yourself and watch yourself die, so that you can go and live for other people.
“Don’t get too comfortable in the wilderness,” you tell me, “If you get too used to here, then you will wallow in self pity and become a part of the desert beaten by the winds and will never want to leave this place again.”
“You are doing this for your mothers, for your sisters, brothers, your sons and your daughters, your cities and towns. Think about them as you scale the cliffs, get battered by the gale, trudge through thorn bushes, feel the torrid sun burn your neck and feel surrounded by wild beasts with their eyes gleaming like fired jewels.”
Mighty man, storm tossed and frightened but filled with courage and faith. You will make it through. In the wilderness.
Oh Ben
"Was everybody in the 90's in love with some mysterious other?-" In reference to every 90's pop hit imaginable
You’ll be loved you’ll be loved Like you never have known The memories of me Will seem more like bad dreams Just a series of blurs Like I never occurred Someday you will be loved
Benjamin Gibbard