The Unknown Surely Contains Multitudes
When I moved to California about five years ago, I couldn’t remember how adults made friends.
I had landed a part-time gig doing content marketing to pay the bills and the guys running it were wonderful, but they weren’t going to be my people … and the rest of the time I was freelancing for the local newspapers and largely spent my days alone.
Where the hell could a grown-ass woman meet some comrades and build a community?!
First, I auditioned for a play, a dance musical chronicling the “mysterious death” (read: definite murder) of actress Natalie Wood. One day I shall release the videos I took of myself rehearsing the dance I choreographed alone in my sublet-ed living room all set to a monologue I learned in high school from St. Joan of Arc.
It’s the height of mortification, BUT I did get a part and I did make one of my best friends in California who was helping to direct the play. She’s a creative collaborator of the nth degree, a perfect counterbalance to my crushing disorganization; she’s a type A neurotic with the soul of a brilliant imp.
Then there was the house I’d moved into — a duplex from ’50s in Oakland. Downstairs you would find me and my then-boyfriend happily nesting, if a little lonely.
Upstairs you would have found a very deranged young couple from the East Coast who fought like rabid animals and were making their third roommate — a slight, gay boy getting his PhD in chemistry — very, very miserable.
They drove him right into my arms.
Five years later, he’s completed his PhD and just accepted his first job in Portland. I’m visiting him in his brand new city for his 28th birthday.
And as I wended my way from the airport and into downtown Portland yesterday, I stopped at a street-side fountain and brought my lips to the cold water bubbling from the bronze bowl.
I thought about everything that had brought me to this very moment; leaving New York, leaving my family, my closest friends, my orbit.
That without fear, without courage, without closing your goddamn eyes and just leaping once in a while — across the country, into a Craigslist ad, into someone’s arms — we are rendered smaller.
And we all deserve to be giant balls of burning light; you should have to squint to see us.
Try to be brave and court possibility for the unknown surely contains multitudes.
With love + rage,
Co-founder | Creative Director
Looks-wise, I could really be anybody.
But I’ve got a commodity highly privileged men in this country want so badly, they’ll pay good money to get ahold of it. I’m not talking about sex. Lots of people think what patrons of sex work value has to do with conventional attractiveness or the more elusive “sex appeal.”
They’re starving for what I come by naturally, living as close to the ground as I do — connection, humanity, reciprocity, authenticity.
By Alexandra Bradford
As you arrived in Aleppo, you could see that the once-bustling city was now void of color and sound. Grey dust covered bombed-out buildings, and impact craters from bunker buster bombs pockmarked the ground, giving the illusion that you had arrived on an apocalyptic moon.
In war reporting, which exists as a smaller subset of foreign reporting, women like Ward are producing some of the field’s most courageous and important journalism. Yet despite their obvious skills, women continue to be underrepresented in U.S. media. The Women’s Media Center estimates that in 2015, women produced 34.9% of foreign political news, while male journalists produced 64.2%.
By Talynn Kel
I will freely admit that I am tired of seeing powerful white men wielding power they do not deserve and earned through violence. That narrative is played out, yet it is the crux of the Marvel cinematic universe.
In Thor: Ragnorak, this trope is challenged by Hela — the first-born of Odin and sister of Thor and Loki — when she returns from exile to reclaim her spot atop the throne, and calls out Asgard’s ill-gained riches and powers in the process.
It contained an extraordinary, eviscerating message about colonialism and white supremacy.
By Katie Tandy
Madeleine Co.’s latest project — an immersive, four-channel video installation, Listen to the Chorus — grew out of conversations within their collective about incidences of sexual harassment and abuse they’ve experienced; they wanted to create a piece that could lance some of that pain and frustration.
The women hosted a dinner series to expand the conversation and eventually collaborated with poet Nasim Asgari, who took inspiration from the common themes of those conversations and wove together a tapestried experience.
By The Bad Advisor
It’s strange that your daughter has not noticed that literally every woman on earth who is not married is single, as she is, because of their universally slutty clothing choices, but it may be possible to reach her in time for her to put on a pair of sweatpants and a parka and attract the man of her dreams.
You’ll have to do this carefully — you don’t want to imply that your daughter has inherent value as a human being outside of what she wears and whether she’s married.But your timing couldn’t be better. Many big-box stores are likely putting their Halloween costumes on sale this week, which means you’ll be able to score a Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man suit at a reduced price.