Reading Man Repeller's book Seeking Love, Finding Overalls (pleasantly surprised by the sincerity and intelligence of the sentimentality in comparison to her adjective-heavy blog prose) and Watching Sex and the City from season 1 has me craving comfort and meaning in earthly objects versus to the dull emptiness I feel when staring into the bottomless galactic chasm that swallows us.
To feel a thrill from picking up a well-crafted (if perhaps impractical for the dog-shit/salt seasoned streets of New York) shoe from Bergdorf's or Miu Miu. To have your mom inquire that you shop for clothes and make jewelry and read about jewelry and bake cakes like it's your job (because it kind of is). To create for fun, how awesome is that? It's like license to be a kid.
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