I was listening to a recent episode of Every Single Album where the podcast hosts were discussing 1989 (Taylor’s Version). It was a “mailbag” episode and Nathan and Nora were taking listener questions. Somewhere in the discussion, Nathan mentioned that he considers evermore to be a Christmas album. This caught my attention and my intuition agreed, but I thought it’d be worth investigating further. As research for this issue of so long daisy mae, I also listened to the evermoreepisode of Every Single Album where Nathan and Nora break down their favourite songs on evermore.

Welcome to another December letter. In recent news, it snowed here in London on Sunday. My neighbourhood did in many ways remind me of the Bruegel scenes I discussed last week - although with (sadly) less rudimental ice hockey as the Thames did not have the courtesy to freeze over. Since last week leaned into the winter weather, I thought this week could instead celebrate some Mediterranean escapism. And since I haven’t yet dedicated a letter to an exclusively architectural topic I thought it about time to spend a few hundred words waxing poetic about some obscure building that few of you have likely heard of/care about But that is the joy of Artifex!

I wrote this piece in 2003. Thought I would give it another airing, see what you think. I got tired of the issue being treated as a cheap laugh, or as though it was the same as men paying for sex with women. It isn’t. But, nevertheless, it is deeply exploitative, harmful, and troubling. ncG1vNJzZmiipaG2pq7Ip5uepF6owqO%2F05qapGaTpLpwvI6fnKaZnJp6tLHXZquoraKewK551qGgrZ1doralsMueZJqflZl8pLvMppynrKM%3D

Ko Lipe changed radically over the past 15 years, perhaps more than any other Thai island. In 2006, this four-square-km island had a total of 23 lodgings overlooking the marvelous beaches and sandy trails. By 2019 that number had jumped to over 100, including several large-scale resorts and inland hotels. Sidecar motorbike taxis clogged newly paved lanes as crowds piled on to Walking Street. By my first visit in 2011, residents and devoted long-stay travelers seemed to know what was is in store for the boomerang-shaped island they loved.

Hello! Thank you for signing up to, or stumbling on, this no-news-newsletter written by me, Ashley Clark. If you do choose to subscribe—and it’s free—you’ll receive bulletins about whatever’s on my mind: usually some combination of art/film/music/literature/football. If that sounds good, hit the button! I’m not sure if I was too young, or just the right age, when I first saw Neil Jordan’s The Crying Game. I was 14 years old, recently and intensely obsessed with cinema, and I stayed up late to watch it one night on Film4, a (then) pay-per-view, and brilliantly programmed TV channel that I’d pestered my mum to subscribe to after I decided I needed to see Taxi Driver.