#durga chew bose

[deadpoetsmusings]

“I care little for plot and prefer a lingering glow..”

[sapphireshorelines]

I have complicated feelings about wanting to disappear, because I already struggle with feeling invisible, and I know that visibility can be construed as a privilege, but I also never want to be fully seen. I even like, on occasion, to be misheard. What I struggle with more is being misunderstood.

Durga Chew-Bose (x)

[cinnamonchaos]

It still comes as a shock to me how irreversible life is

[firstfullmoon]

Imagine that. Even when we’re pressing snooze and rolling over in bed, folding ourselves into our covers and postponing the day’s bubbling over, and soon after notching cold butter on warm toast, or later coming to a halt as we bound up a flight of subway stairs only to stall behind an elderly woman whose left leg trails behind her right leg—one leaden step at a time—even then, when time decelerates and the relative importance of our lives, of our hurry, undergoes a sudden, essential audit; even then, our heart never stops. . . despite these bouts of wonder and alarm, when my heart races, dimples, is weary and deflates, it never exhausts. How is that possible? How does it maintain? Stays going. On and on.

Durga Chew-Bose, from “Heart Museum,” in Too Much and Not the Mood

[lazyydaisyyy]

Durga Chew-Bose, “Heart Museum” from Too Much and Not the Mood

[oldfilmsflicker]

new-to-me #688 - Bonjour Tristesse (2024)

[aaronsrpgs]

book I finished / book I started

[guy60660]

Durga Chew-Bose

[dk-thrive]

Some of us are born a little mournful, and we spend our lives discovering new traditions for housing those ghosts we’ve long considered companions. Framing, I’d venture, is central to this urge. It gives memories a physique.

Durga Chew-Bose, Letter of Recommendation: Framing (NY Times, Feb 4, 2020) (via Alive on All Channels)

[pleasuresofthetext]

“I love a confessional mood that isn’t too profound.”

Durga Chew-Bose on Jamaica Kincaid’s Talk Stories

[deadpoetsmusings]

Durga Chew-Bose, Too Much and Not the Mood

[webweabings]

WE’RE NOT MEANT TO STAY THE SAME

Deepak Chopra; // "Love's Ripening: Rumi on the Heart's Journey", by Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi (2008); // Lisa Brooks; // "The Angles In Heaven Done Signed My Name", by Leo "Bud" Welch; // "Too Much and Not the Mood: Essays", by Durga Chew-Bose; // "The Book of Disquiet", by Fernando Pessoa; // "I've Changed a Lot", by Sarah Juers; //"The Rom Con", by Devon Daniels.

[northwindow]

Do you have any light-hearted comforting reads? Feeling a little down

sure! i hope you’re feeling better soon. maybe you’d like one of these, depending on what you’re looking for:

if on a winter’s night a traveler by italo calvino is a really delightful escape. there’s a playfulness that drives this book, especially after a few chapters—it kind of reminded me of the feeling that i used to get reading lemony snicket as a kid

i always crave something funny when i’m feeling bad... priestdaddy by patricia lockwood, zambra’s chilean poet, happy hour by marlowe grenados?

the rachel incident by caroline o’donoghue is a new book that really charmed me, it’s a portrait of an early-20s friendship and an illicit affair set in cork, ireland. it’s literary-leaning of a beach read but it has that candylike quality (not every moment is breezy, but overall really fun)

i thought too much and not the mood by durga chew-bose had this lovely optimism in a genre that can be stereotyped as moody (personal essays). a clever and effervescent book that left me inspired to create things

i would not call her work lighthearted, but a novelist that makes me feel like you can face the most fucked-up challenges in life with moral strength and heart and humor is miriam toews. i would probably start with fight night for something on the lighter side of her spectrum. i might add banana yoshimoto on a similar note, some of her themes/plot points can be heavy and mysterious yet the books have this soothing effect on me, they feel colorful and warm. kitchen is a popular starting place and a quick read

[totallylost4you]

“being with Karlie is probably the one time when Taylor can feel invisible.”

It’s difficult to parse exactly what attracts Swift to models: I’ve had friends explain it in terms of body-matching (Swift’s finally found her tall, wispy people) or that Kloss, like her, has juggled fame since her early teens. The writer Durga Chew-Bose told me that “being with Karlie is probably the one time when Taylor can feel invisible.” I don’t think any of these explanations is necessarily wrong. But I think there’s something even deeper about Swift’s model affinity, especially to the Kloss-like variety that currently dominate the industry.

In the absence of boys or friend drama, the only thing left to gossip about in Swift's life is her friendship with Karlie Kloss. Photos of them hanging out (and embracing/maybe kissing) on a balcony were quickly transformed into evidence of a relationship. Even the gossip press, which should be sated with the stream of Swift paparazzi and Instagram photos, is on board.

As evidenced by the abundance of “Kaylor” fanfic on Tumblr, there’s a serious audience and appetite for those rumors coming to fruition. But Swift’s popularity ultimately hinges on her image being mom-safe. Perhaps that’s why she can hang out with Lena Dunham but never say a word about Girls or Dunham's memoir, why she distanced herself from Gomez when she went back to Justin Bieber, and why she spends more of her time with Kloss, who spends her time promoting her charitable vegan cookie line for Momofuku, than Cara Delevingne, a model in the bad-girl Kate Moss tradition who parties with Rihanna and dates Michelle Rodriguez. (Buzzfeed January 2015)

Isn't it delicate.

[firstfullmoon]

“When I think of my brother’s childhood friends, of the two who are dead, I become, in those seconds, not inconsolable but wanting for my parents. I am homesick. Parent-sick. Cousin-sick. Okra-sick. . . I am sick for those years when I was paying attention without purpose. When I was arranging stories free of import, and when my imagination could draw courage instead of warrant that I stay in. . . I am sick for using change to buy lime popsicles. Sick for slamming doors to emphasize my temper. I am sick for not perceiving winter. For being unbothered by February’s frost. . . I am sick for packing a snowball but being too shy to throw it and so I’d carry it in the gloved pillow of my palm like a pet snowball. I am sick for using small scissors to cut cardboard hearts; for gluing them on paper doilies and writing someone’s name with felt marker. I am sick for cardboard and paper and markers, and the time it took to make things before gifting them. . . I am sick for my incorruptibility. Sick for believing. Sick for my body before. Before I’d ever noticed I was in possession of one. Before full-lengths. Before I knew anything about valleyed collarbones, a stomach’s folds, smooth legs, small wrists. . . I am sick for wearing orange. For those years when I knew nothing about the need to abide. When I smiled with my teeth.”

— Durga Chew-Bose, from “Part of a Greater Pattern,” in Too Much and Not the Mood

[lazyydaisyyy]

Nobody ever teaches you how to be a person torn-between. How to shape your breaths so as to accommodate both the solitude and the stampede.

Durga Chew-Bose, “Part of a Greater Pattern”from Too Much and Not the Mood