It paid $12.50 an hour with clothes on, $25 with clothes off. The choice, I figured, was obvious.

Something odd happened to me in late 2017: I became enamored with the color orange. 

The bathroom is a private space; it’s also a liminal one. It’s where women go to become.

We’ve been ascribing aesthetic significance to bruises—and suffering more generally—for millennia.

Larissa Pham's new monthly column, Devil in the Details, will focus on single objects throughout art history. In this installment, she looks at beds through the lens of Sarah Lucas's exhibition "Au Naturel," at the New Museum. 

What are we to make of art that thrills, titillates, and undoubtedly came from some kind of exploitation? How do we relate to work that came from the kind of imbalance of power that we have spent all of this year—and decades prior—working to correct?

  In bed some nights, too tired to read, I lie on my side with my phone plugged into the wall and scroll through Instagram. Lately, perhaps because of the algorithms, process videos of illustrators painting have risen to the top of my feed. My fav…

It made sense to me that there must be something humans are always chasing, and if that were the case, it would necessarily have to be the heavens.

“If you live in L.A., to reckon time is a trick since there are no winters,” writes Eve Babitz, in Eve’s Hollywood. “There are just earthquakes, parties, and certain people.”