Driving gingerly driving motherly.
Tag: 12th Street Journal
Hope for Rain
It is summer and all my friends are dying.
Family Reunion: NYCB’S 75th Anniversary
It was the youngest looking crowd of all ages ever; Ballet has a way of preserving the body in time. While wrinkles and sallow skin are an inevitability, their bodies remain strong and erect, belying their age.
Pixelated
I was 15 in North Myrtle Beach,
skateboarding towards 420 World
under the stale haze of old billboards and tattered confederate flags. Big Mike worked there,
and it’s where the porn was.
Figures
When a people are made into numbers, by nature, they become divisible. By design, subtractable.
Palestinian Liberation is Jewish Liberation
Is Los Angeles not already the Holy Land? And what about New York? We were never a country. The diaspora goes too deep. Let us free back into the diaspora again.
Third-Person Autobiography: Not Just for Therapy Anymore
…Sindy continues to write about herself in third person. It may not seem much of a disclosure, but to her it is bare and breathing. She has concerns that she’ll come across as presumptuous, or as Elmo.
Pumpkin, Spice, Naughty, and Nice
If Christian girlies who love the fall season truly knew and embraced that their bescarved, twinkly-eyed glee comes at the behest of many who suffered brutal deaths, or that their Target scarves were forcibly made by Indonesian children for less than a dollar a day, would they smile so big when sipping those tasty PSLs?
The Fun Will Never End
Now concluded, Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake has catapulted the franchise to new heights with its willingness to grow with its audience and expand its universe—or, rather, multiverse.
twenty-two
Because in the dim parking lot
one man’s sobriety was a flower for his truths;
because Max’s hair in the rain.
Our Back-to-School Playlist
12th Street staff talks about the media that’s kept them charged during the hottest summer in history. Whether you’ve found yourself on a rooftop or at the beach, or just sweating through your pants trying to catch a train, turn to our curated assemblage of recs!
Troubled Sleep Interview
There are people who talk about the Internet or reading PDFs, but the thing is, those people are all wrong. That’s the great truth of it; no matter what happens with smartphones, or streaming TV, or people ordering books off of Amazon, I think the written word is here to stay. People will always like to read physical books. For anyone who is thinking about a career in writing, there will always be demand for that and there will always be opportunities for that.
Circles and Rectangles
I feel like Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off when he is struck by the Seurat painting, except there’s no John Hughes movie soundtrack in the back, and I fail to fall into the painting the way Cameron does. The pressure to discern meaning increases when other people are nearby. I’m afraid that they see something I can’t.
Shy
In the wake of extremely outgoing parents, I was allowed to drown in my shyness and stay hidden from the world. In retrospect, the label kept me safe for a time. I never had to discuss the turmoil in my life. I learned to dissect and process my pain alone. . .
Let the Clouds Cry
Dream about the heart-shaped leaves
on the thin branches of the purple tree.
You know the one.
Where the butterflies
sleep amongst the flowers,
Blessed by the tears of the clouds.
Ode to Looking Down
Looking up at the world was now far clearer and a lot less scary, but self-preserving habits are hard to break. I mean, I had spent most of my life avoiding looking up for fear that I would be perceived as rude! But in Western culture especially, eye contact shows you’re polite. Eye contact with a handshake establishes confidence. Eye contact is a way of connecting with someone and showing them that you care about what they have to say. But can’t I look at the ground and still be a good listener? Can’t I still look at the ground and be a confident person if I feel like I can protect myself better? Can looking down ever be seen as a positive?
Tainted Remains
Remember, dying ain’t pretty, and you can’t let the kiss of death linger too long. Pretend that you love him. Pretend that you are Milton’s little girl. Pretend that the pain is too much to bear. Do not laugh at how botched your aunt looks. Instead, kneel and pray—pretend to if you cannot.
Pamela Anderson is at Work
A household name and a cautionary tale.
Less So For You, More So For Me
He doesn’t dance with me like that, Mom. He trips over my toes and splashes cranberry juice on the floor and I love it. I slurp it off of his New Balances.
Out of My Head and Into My Body: Why Gardening Makes Me a Better Writer
It is equally easy for me to fantasize about being a writer as it is to fantasize about being a plant person. These fantasies of lifestyle and values echo each other. It is romantic until you must edit. It is romantic until you must weed.