The way human beings speak is so heartbreaking to me—we never sound the way we want to sound. We’re always stopping ourselves in mid–sentence because we’re so terrified of saying the wrong thing. Speaking is a kind of misery. And I guess I comfort myself by finding the rhythms and accidental poetry in everyone’s inadequate attempts to articulate their thoughts. We’re all sort of quietly suffering as we go about our days, trying and failing to communicate to other people what we want and what we believe. Text by Annie Baker
Photo by Yelena Yemchuk. Colorized.

Outtake photo by Edouard Plongeon for RIKA. Colorized.
In a bookshop this evening, I heard an author’s interview. An older woman, slightly out of breath, filled the room with her expressive and nervous... Read More

Photo by Sam Hessamian. Colorized.
She shifts continuously in her seat. Her hair is orange in the sun, and dried out. Red, yellow and blue of America in the 90s, or of... Read More

Françoise Kirkland by Douglas Kirkland
The photograph shows Douglas Kirkland with his wife, Françoise Kirkland, in Paris. Douglas Kirkland was an American photographer whose career spanned more than six decades,... Read More

Photograph by Ashley Markle for SC103, shown rotated 90º.
Since the kiss in the mountains, time is guided on the golden summer of her hands and the ivy swerves. Text by René Char

A doctor’s note written for Winston Churchill during his 1932 visit to the United States, permitting his alcohol consumption during Prohibition.

Roland Barthes. The Fashion System.








































