leftovers.

Let me assure you: the world is full of mediocre men who are stunning successes.
When I began Faces I was bugged about marriage. I’ve always been against the institution of marriage. Not my marriage. Gena and I have always disagreed out in the open, we never hold back. But I was bugged about the millions of middle-class marriages in the United States that just sort of glide along. Couples married ten, fifteen years, husbands and wives who seem to have everything - big house, two cars, maid, teenage kids - but all these creature comforts have made them passive. Underneath, there’s this feeling of desperateness because they can’t connect. I would see married couples who had nothing to do with one another in their lives. If their tastes coincided they felt that they were quite remarkable in their marriage. And people would say, ‘Oh they’re so wonderful together’. But they come home, they just look at each other and say, ‘How are you?’ How was the day? What happened?’ and they have no love. The picture was a plea for returning to some kind of real communication. Most couples aren’t even aware that they can’t communicate. The whole point of Faces is to show how few people really talk to each other. These days, everybody is supposed to be so intelligent: ‘Isn’t it terrible about Nixon getting elected?’ Did you hear about the earthquake in Peru?’ And you’re supposed to have all the answers. But when it gets down to the nitty-gritty, like, ‘What is bugging you, mister? Why can’t you make it with your wife? Why do you lie awake all night staring at the ceiling? Why, why, why do you refuse to to recognize your problems and deal with them?’ The answer is the people have forgotten how to relate or respond. In this day of mass communications and instant communications, there is no communication between people. Instead it’s long-winded stories or hostile bits, or laughter. But nobody’s really laughing. It’s more a hysterical, joyless kind of sound. Translation: ‘I am here and I don’t know why.’
nevver:

Brooklyn
a group of people is called a hell
nevver:

Design Crush
nevver:

What we’re reading
A buddy and I used safety pins to drunkenly tattoo each other in Edward Albee’s barn in Montauk, and it came out so bad he tattooed ‘Sorry’ underneath. It’s my worst one, but I find myself looking at it a lot, so maybe it’s my best one.
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