Pelle Cass’s time-lapse photos

Pelle Cass’s time-lapse photos

LIMITED CHAOS - LI’L THINKS - By Kate Carraway
Illustration by Penelope Gazin
I have two recurring dreams. One is none of your business until I make it your business and the other you’re going to hear about even if you don’t want to: It’s about a familiar-since-forever kind of weekend beach party cum bacchanal, a performance of chaos.
It always takes place at dusk or later, and there is either a lingering supernatural streak of hot yellow, like the horizon’s take on Joseph Beuys, or just the noncommittal graying black of summer nighttime. Through dreamy static dust I see me wearing some apple-meat-white cotton-eyelet summer-dress item—this part doesn’t matter to you but it feels so right—and a coalition of people I’ve funned out with since the pre-dawn of my party consciousness are with me, storming the breaks fully clothed, carrying what I guess are bottles in brown paper bags, sort of endlessly entering the water and screaming and then stopping and then going again, pause-rewind-play, again and again. This contained, primal undoing—dreamed or otherwise—is probably spring break.
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LIMITED CHAOS - LI’L THINKS - By Kate Carraway

Illustration by Penelope Gazin

I have two recurring dreams. One is none of your business until I make it your business and the other you’re going to hear about even if you don’t want to: It’s about a familiar-since-forever kind of weekend beach party cum bacchanal, a performance of chaos.

It always takes place at dusk or later, and there is either a lingering supernatural streak of hot yellow, like the horizon’s take on Joseph Beuys, or just the noncommittal graying black of summer nighttime. Through dreamy static dust I see me wearing some apple-meat-white cotton-eyelet summer-dress item—this part doesn’t matter to you but it feels so right—and a coalition of people I’ve funned out with since the pre-dawn of my party consciousness are with me, storming the breaks fully clothed, carrying what I guess are bottles in brown paper bags, sort of endlessly entering the water and screaming and then stopping and then going again, pause-rewind-play, again and again. This contained, primal undoing—dreamed or otherwise—is probably spring break.

Continue

Dreams Can Come True

Dreams Can Come True

"Tell me a secret."
Fashion Cats

"Tell me a secret."

Fashion Cats

So you’ve all seen Umshini Wam, Harmony Korine’s new short film with Die Antwoord playing wheelchair-bound ‘gangstas’ with guns, blunts, rims, and dreams, right?
What’d you think?

So you’ve all seen Umshini Wam, Harmony Korine’s new short film with Die Antwoord playing wheelchair-bound ‘gangstas’ with guns, blunts, rims, and dreams, right?

What’d you think?