konkoa:

This has been a PSA.

konkoa:

This has been a PSA.

(via cryptomancy)

I’m lost by life. I don’t know anything about life. If I make a movie, I don’t even understand why I’m making the movie. I just know that there’s something there. Later on, we all get to know what it’s about through the opinions of others. If you make a film, it might as well be as important as be nonsense. You can’t go for ten cents and expect to come up with a million. You have to go for everything. Whether you fail or don’t fail, you have to go for what will make us better when we’re finished. I like to work with friends and for friends on something that might help somebody. Something with humour, sadness; simple things.
The artist really is a magical figure whom we would all like to be like and don’t have the courage to be, because we don’t have the strength to be obsessive. Film is an art, a beautiful art. It’s a madness that overcomes all of us. We’re in love with it. Money is really not that important to us. We can work thirty-six, forty-eight hours straight and feel elated at the end of that time. I think film is magic! With the tools we have at hand, we really try to convert people’s lives! The idea of making a film is to package a lifetime of emotion and ideas into a two-hour capsule form, two hours where some images flash across the screen and in that two hours the hope is that the audience will forget everything and that celluloid will change lives. Now that’s insane, that’s a preposterously presumptuous assumption, and yet that’s the hope.
John Cassavetes (via bbook)

(via clairedenis)

hedlunds:

im tired of things costing money

(via debonairdestruction)

radsanta:

don’t ask me what’s new because nothing ever happens to me

(via billyjewel)

brassmama:

Some people have these like fandom specific blogs and then there’s me:

image

(via tea-with-theo)

yearofthebamf:

Trying to be Diane Lockhart: 

Expectations: 

image

Reality: 

image

(via thegoodwifechristinebaranski)

lexlifts:

thornsandwillows:

If you take a young man and woman and they both tell a stranger that they work in the same restaurant, it’s very likely that they will assume that the woman is the waitress, and the young man a cook.

But I thought a woman’s place was in the kitchen? Not when she’s being paid for it. I can’t believe it took me this long to realize the implication of this. A woman’s place is one of servitude.

this fucking hit me like a fucking train 

(via starling-girl)