Watching porn and having sex are not problematic behaviors. I see time and time again folks talking about sex and porn addiction in a very blase manor to shame and guilt others. Any behavior can be problematic, but sexual desires, kinks, fantasies, etc. are normal. As humans we are sexual beings and to explore it in a healthy way is okay. As long as your experiences are consensual, everything will be okay.

It’s that the time of the year again. It’s the time for End Of Year Lists. Frankly, I’m always a little mixed on these sorts of articles. Sure, they’re a great way to remind readers of noteworthy works that may have gotten lost in the fray. Many times I’ve read a “Best Films of” list and thought, “THAT’S RIGHT! I’VE BEEN MEANING TO WATCH THAT!” So, in that way, they’re nice. But there’s also certain clickbait-ness to them. “See if your favorite biopic made the cut- or the cutting room floor!” Nevertheless, Year End Lists are here to stay, and I’m (sort of) going to participate in the trend.

I will inevitably get to an age where I won’t understand the appeal of something new—from a stylistic or cultural standpoint. Because I’ll be too “old”. I don’t suspect, however, I’ll have too much trouble bonding with my daughters over music. Just because two people don’t have identical tastes does not mean that they can’t enjoy anything together. And that’s what makes music, film, literature and hobbies fun. They are all better shared.

When I opened them I marveled at a large dinner plate adorned with a vivid orange monarch and then I , like all the times before, meticulously repackaged it, placing the boxes in the back of my closet. They were stunning and I dreamed of the day that I would have a home for myself and use them. As I mused, however, I never suspected that nearly two decades would pass before I would open those boxes again.

As I waited for my mother to arrive to pick me up, I was lost in a repetitive thought cycle of the steps required to land an Ollie. Bend the knees. Pop the tail with back foot. Turn front foot to the side and drag it up to the nose. Level out. Bend. Pop. Turn. Drag. Again. And again. I was obsessed. I was reborn.

Tirzah’s Devotion has a strange ability (much like Frank Ocean’s whole discography) to tackle all of the messiness that comes with romance in a groovy but insightful and emotional way.