Vanessa Carlton refuses to slow down.
Larraín’s film meditates on the methods by which history is made, by which men and women of flesh and blood become figures of paper and ink.
There was a type of refreshing freedom and adolescence that came with it.
It’s weird. It’s creepy. And, by God, is it long.
“I don’t think I would call it a political play. What I think it does so well is it presents this issue and it allows the audience to think for themselves about it. It doesn’t have a spin, it doesn’t have an idea about abortions that says: ‘Okay this is what we think, what do you think?’ You can decide for yourself.”
“The Missing” is a series that excels when it’s able to play its two timelines off of each other, letting the past inform us about the present, while changes in the present make us speculate about what happened in the past.
This constant motion, a pursuit of restlessness and slight discomfort supports Hayes’s philosophy as a teacher of poetry.
Happy birthday, mom.
Every morning, when choosing my outfit for that day, I try to imagine Rihanna wearing whatever I’ve chosen. If I can’t, back in the closet it goes.