The Night is for Screaming (1960) Cover Illustration by Robert Maguire
(via thedorseyshawexperience)
(Source: gifmovie, via nedhepburn)
Bored at work, my dark-eyed exciting art friend started flipping through the Frieze book, showing me everything I’d missed that day. “Mirrors are everywhere,” she said, “And fibers, too.” I paused on a painting with a phone number written on it. “Call me,” it said. So plaintive! So humble! “Is that a real number?” I asked her. “Can’t be!” said Rae. She’s smart and savvy; wild as she is, she couldn’t imagine anyone being that dumb, to just put their number there. But I could imagine. I’m that dumb myself. I called the number, and Joshua Abelow answered. He said most people texted, that it was nice to hear from me, and that he was reading a book about a shy detective. I felt dizzy and happy. I miss the old days, and will not be friending him on Facebook.
AND THIS.
All Day.
(via powells)
(Source: piquenbauers, via slackr)

