His dog had lost all respect for him, or could no longer stand his scent. Either way, oil spots on the driveway were of more interest to her, and on the rare occasions they occupied the same room, she abstained from meeting his eye.

He referred to his projects rather ecumenically as items. Although each was minutely embedded in particularity, the overwhelming force of his attention rendered them in some sense uniform.

What differentiates man from animal: vulgarity.

Your long-awaited genius grant; your self-designed modernist house; your late career retrospective; your fond encomiums from friends and colleagues: zero, nada, zippo, zilch.

You won’t be told everything, but you’ll be told what you need.

Active language receptors, but no coherent brain function.

Manage to find someone willing to pay you for being some semblance of who you are, and you might survive.

Yesterday Doeg and I went to our special place—to the little dirt area beside the tree. Because of allergies, Doeg has chewed off most of his hair. On the way home, heard a young mother say to baby: look, honey, look at the pretty—recoiling as Doeg emerged from behind the car. Still thinking about the look on his face: apologetic.

I’ve been very bitter, and there’ve been times when I’ve been on the brink of closing down and walking away, disappearing into the woods.—Merle Haggard

Four deer corpses on the road to Bethlehem.
Wildlife suicide in the new America.

In the morning I hear the long shriek of the hawk, as if to say, I am all that matters. Death from above.

He hangs on to his beloved hat long after forgetting he once wore it with irony.

Over the course of one sunny afternoon a stately ice shelf the size of Connecticut breaks loose and collapses into the ocean. You are dispersing. You have entered the floe.

Thirty years after the loss of their son they still look for him in restaurants—the man at the corner table, laughing with his beautiful wife, waiting for someone to join them.

Standing at the back window, sipping coffee and watching the traffic light change colors in the rain. Your world is coming back to you. Soon it will all be too much—but for now you’re grateful.

2 – 4 am. Waiting for death, hoping for sleep.

Options for aging designers:
1) white jeans/looking like douche
2) design blog/looking like douche
3) gallery show/looking like douche
4) surfing/looking like douche
5) teaching/being douche

Obsolescence never goes out of style

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