That Anthony Bourdain no longer is out in this world somewhere, learning, eating, meeting others, means there’s one less good and powerful voice speaking for so many of us. A good and powerful voice that was also incredibly entertaining. Here’s one of my favorite examples.
I need to paint 20 frames for an upcoming gallery show and the thought of me, Jackie “Oh, Did I Make That Mess?” Mantey, painting anything in our small apartment’s even smaller dining room nearly gives Justin a rash. So here I am, standing in my temporary Indiana studio (his mom’s garage), wearing ratty clothes, my hair high in a messy bun. Before I start painting, I take a minute to look around the subdivision.
I know this isn’t a big deal, like, at all, and I’m used to seeing my journalism bylines, but having my creative writing and embroidery published is a rad new development that feels awesome and I’m totally humbled by it, as evidenced by these photos of celebrities crying.
All the contestants had to spend a grueling 30 seconds in said swimsuit walking around, basically, a circle on stage. It was all very ridiculous. However, there was one way a gal could make this experience much more fun, much less like, well, getting judged in your bathing suit by a group of strangers with your teachers in the audience: Contestants got to pick their own music.
A few years ago at a backyard barbecue, a friend’s birthday party, one of the stoners, mid-bite of his veggie patty, told me that déjà vu is something we experience when we are in the exact place we should be.