{ duquesne whistle }

Today, Bob Dylan unveiled the music video for his first song on his new album. It’s pretty exciting stuff right here for all Dylan fans. Not only is his material brand new, but it’s totally Dylan, even if it doesn’t sound or look like him.

Duquesne Whistle sounds like it was written in the 30’s, rising out of the Depression with its lively beats and full of hope and optimism. But of course, listening to his lyrics, you’ll realize it’s more than about the thrill of life. It’s about moving forward, getting to that unknown destination.

Like the song the music video is full of dichotomy. There is the old time sound with it’s youthful melody; the video has the sweet innocence of love and then contradicting it with pain and anger; old Dylan walking with his entourage at night and the young romantic walking by himself at day looking for his love. Even though Duquesne Whistle sounds outdated upon hearing, it couldn’t be more modern and relevant to our culture today. Perhaps this is about falling in love and falling so hard you’re willing to endure anything – even pain – to be with them. Perhaps this song is about chasing that something and going anywhere to get there.

Or perhaps Bob Dylan believes it’s better to not be foolishly in love and to remain cool and detached from the emotion completely – untouched by anything.

{ celeste and jesse forever }

Celeste and Jesse Forever

You know those couples who seem too perfect for eachother? You know, those couples who finish eachother’s sentences and can be extraordinarily silly together that it freaks their friends out whenever they’re on a double date. That couple is Celeste and Jesse, played by Rashida Jones and Andy Samburg. The movie is about how they are more than a couple… they’re best friends, and that’s the most special thing to have in a relationship.

{ I want a Tuesday kind of love }

“I want a Tuesday kind of love. The sort of thing that involves little dreaming and scheming; the sort of thing that comes paired with too-strong coffee and too-loud songbirds and the drone of the news at 6 a.m. or any time before the sky finds its identity, really. A Tuesday kind of love that isn’t indulgent, one that doesn’t stop the earth from spinning but maybe keeps us grounded in spite of all that uncontrollable movement.

I want to split the bill and pay the bills and not get lost in some unsustainable delusion where the rest of our lives become inconsequential. I want us to be human, I want to argue, I want to take too long in the shower. I want to hear about the horrific lines at the DMV, about a boss who doesn’t get it, about plans to pick up the laundry after work. I want stories of strangers on the bus, of a child who looked lost but turned out not to be, of chance encounters with high school classmates because these seemingly colorless instances are meaningful when filtered through the eyes of someone I care about. A Tuesday kind of love, breathing relevance into otherwise monotonous moments.

A Tuesday kind of love is this: commuting to work knowing that someone cares about what you’re going to have for lunch; understanding that you do not have to be your dynamic, charming, weekend self this time; this time you can butcher sentences and make bad jokes and trip over thin air and it won’t change anything. A Tuesday kind of love is when weekends and weekdays are one and the same, expanses of time where unpredictable, irreplaceable closeness exists, swells, bursts. Tuesday is directionless conversation about things that happened five hours or five years ago; it’s knowing where he keeps his receipts and when he has a doctor appointment; it’s ordering Chinese food or taking his parents out for dinner because they’re in town or forgetting to eat because you’re full of each other’s words and there’s just no room for anything else.

I don’t want to dream through our lives together, don’t want to sleep in, don’t want to put on my sunglasses and pretend that life’s a vacation. The fantasy is that I want to exist in reality; the fantasy is to be there for someone on a Sunday morning but also on a Tuesday night, when the haze and laze of the weekend has worn thin and seems far away as ever. I want a Tuesday kind of love.”

— I Want A Tuesday Kind Of Love

{ make-up inspired by art }

From Into the Gloss, Violette gives us a special treat inspired by paintings in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Her technique for contouring and highlighting specific areas on the face matches perfectly with those beautiful Renaissance paintings, with their perfect, matte skin.

Pompeo Batoni, Diana and Cupid, (Italian, Lucca 1708–1787 Rome)