forever never

why i write like a girl

“Because I am a girl, whether you like it or not. Because the whole of human experience is to say the least overwhelming; to divide it in half, to write about female experiences in what might be a female way, is closer to achievable. Is realistic? Is less arrogant. Because I may be a narcissist forever and ever amen but I am not arrogant enough to think that I am impartial, omnipotent, the voice of God, the New York Times. Because writing like a guy has given us Monocle; think about that. Because, despite Monocle, no one seems to complain about anybody writing like a guy. Because Gertrude Stein. Because Virginia Woolf. Because Daphne du Maurier. Because Simone de Beauvoir. Because Anne Sexton. Because bell hooks. Because Joan Didion. Because we don’t know for anything like sure if there is anything bigger than our selves. Because certainly I am not those things. Certainly I can’t say. Can only speak for me and for people like me, people that tend, after all, to be female. Can only write what I think, feel; can’t know. Can only write ‘I.’ Refuse to think of that as a failing.”

words by Sarah Nicole Prickett

Darius Kuzmickas

Darius Kuzmickas

Tracey Emin, Exorcism of the Last Painting I Ever Made (1996)

Tracey Emin, Exorcism of the Last Painting I Ever Made (1996)

fyeahwomenartists:

Berthe MorisotOn the Balcony, 1871/72 Watercolor, with touches of gouache, over graphite, on off-white wove paper

fyeahwomenartists:

Berthe Morisot
On the Balcony
, 1871/72 
Watercolor, with touches of gouache, over graphite, on off-white wove paper

fyeahwomenartists:

Berthe MorisotYoung Girl With a Cat, 1889 Drypoint in black on cream laid paper

fyeahwomenartists:

Berthe Morisot
Young Girl With a Cat,
1889 
Drypoint in black on cream laid paper

rookiemag:

Jamie’s post about her journal inspired me to dig up these photos from my (now defunct) blog. I always wanted to keep a scrapbook/journal but couldn’t commit to one, so a couple of years ago I had an idea to make one for one of my best friends who had just moved to the other side of the country. I filled every 80+ pages of the notebook with different things: letters, collages, perfume samples, contributions from friends, and whatever flat objects I could tape inside (from buttons to condoms to mixed cds to an envelope filled with paper dolls). I sent it to her in time for her birthday.  Having a bit of a “deadline” and knowing that I was ultimately giving this book to somebody else inspired me to fill it up (it was also very therapeutic to make).

Anna