The whole time I felt as though I was in the presence of a $16m McLaren F1 armed with a disposable camera. I found it romantic, sometimes, editing this project. Consciously though, I don’t want straight-a little bent is good. Maybe it links to a deep subconscious straight boy fantasy. I ordered a GT3 RS and it’ll keep low miles out here but I guess it’s good to have in case of emergency 🙂 Raf Simons once told me it was cliché, my whole car obsession. It’s been a year since I moved to London, at the time of writing this, and there’s no practical reason to drive in this city. A few years and few daily-drivers later I’m not driving much anymore. I used to ride around in my sinewy crossover SUV, smoke and listen to rough mixes of my old shit before it came out, or whatever someone wanted to play when they hooked up their iPhone to the aux cord. The feeling familiar enhanced, on the 10. Welcomed in by the perennial creatures, imperial palm trees and climbing vines living their lives out just off the shoulder. We drove thru downtown LA headed west, flying on the same freeways I used to run outta gas on. Staring, I was transfixed by all the indicator lights oscillating and throbbing against the wind. On the freeway, leaving Pasadena, we spoke and I looked away, outside, at the wheels and tires of cars doing that optical illusion thing they do where it looks like they’re spinning backwards, which, according to Google, happens because our brains are assuming something completely wrong and showing it to us. The first time I did shrooms, my manager had to come rescue me from Caltech’s ‘Trip Day.’ As I got into her car, I swear to God the aluminum center console in her Porsche truck looked like it was breathing, like the throat of something. It’s close to as much time as we spend in our beds, more for some. We live in cars in some cities, commuting across space either for our livelihood, or devouring fossil fuels for joy. How much of my life has happened inside of a car? I wonder if the odds are that I’ll die in one. The claustrophobia hits as the seatbelt tightens, preventing me from even leaning forward in my seat. I put myself in her seat then I played it all out in my head.
Her eyes seemed clear and calm but not blank, the road behind her seemed the same. A seatbelt reached across her torso, riding up her neck and a mop of blonde hair stayed swept, for the moment, behind her ears. It reads: “Two years ago I found an image of a kid with her hands covering her face. The singer also unveiled a length note explaining the background of the album. “Especially those of you who never let me forget I had to finish. Thank you all,” Ocean wrote on Tumblr following the album’s release. “I had the time of my life making all of this.
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