This afternoon, as I walked down York Boulevard, I was writing Links I Like in my head. I was thinking about a woman I love and how no one takes me seriously when I say I love her, and how I might not take myself seriously either. I was thinking about the dominatrix who wants to tie me up, and a man who asked me to do a session with him and her in New York. There’s another man who asked me to do a session with him and a dominatrix in Los Angeles. A man, who was waiting for a bus, said, Hey! Why are you looking so serious? Smile, he said. It can’t be that bad. I smiled, a big and easy smile, and he said, See?
“Pussy Fever” loves “Locker 29, ” a conversation between Antonia Crane and Cheryl Strayed about sex work.
Chelsea Cain’s Falling for Lidia
As of late people have been describing me to me. I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time with writers. Writers like description, they like to notice, and maybe, too, they like to let you know that they are noticing. (I know that you know that I know etc.) Today their words are coming to the surface. They say I’m sneaky, spacey, sexy. They say I’m always doing a million things, that I’m a doer. They say I am likable, adorable, an angel. I would not use these words to describe me.
James Bradley’s Never Real and Always True
Sam Twyford-Moore’s Don’t Get Me Down: Reading and Writing Depression
There are loquats everywhere in Los Angeles now. Loquats are my favorite fruit and the trees line the sidewalks in Highland Park, Echo Park, and Eagle Rock. This afternoon, as I reached for a loquat, a squirrel jumped out of the tree and ran across the sidewalk and into a front yard. I laughed at the squirrel and held the small piece of fruit in my palm. Then I walked down Sunset Boulevard, unpeeling the fruit and dropping small pieces of peel on the ground. I heard a man yell, Hey! Don’t you be a litter bug! I looked behind me but didn’t see anyone. I decided the voice belonged to someone young, someone with a sense of humor, someone who was a coward.
Amber Sparks on Seeking Grace in Strange Places
Saeed Jones on being a witness.
I was in New York, walking to an Irish pub with my cousin and Stephen, when I found out that Isaac was leaving The Rumpus. I explained to my cousin who Isaac was, what The Rumpus was. I explained that Isaac and Stephen have matching tattoos. Stephen was carrying my backpack and said something that made my cousin laugh. My cousin is a firefighter in New York City and doesn’t spend time with writers.
Stephen Elliott’s Why Two Roommates and 25K at Age 38 Equals A Lucky Man
My cousin invited me to live with him and his family for a month and I followed-up with him about it. I told him to ask his wife. I was thinking about living in New York, about leaving Los Angeles for awhile, and it seemed an easy thing to do. When I was back in Los Angeles, practicing yoga with one of my favorite teachers, I thought, I would miss this. Then I realized I would miss a lot of things. I started crying because I felt vulnerable. I want leaving to always be easy, which is a cowardly thing to want and no way to live or love, but there you are.
Gayle Brandeis on Where I Write
Sondra Morin’s A Memorandum of Ghosts
