Jeremy Martin

Jeremy Martin

About Jeremy
Hello, my name is Jeremy Martin, and I'm a wanderer, writer, and whatever else day-to-day life requires. I am fascinated by place, by the journey, by the diversity of ideas and experiences in the world....
Projects
I try to always be working on some project. For me, projects aren't about producing anything in particular, they're a form of play, play is a way of exploring, and the best part of life...

About The Restless Lens

Welcome to The Restless Lens, where you’ll find my personal interests, inspirations, ideas, and work, hosted outside the walls of social media; independent and strange, eclectic and completely un-monetizable, the way the internet should be.

My Writing

The Key and the String
The Key and the String
Addie and I are staying the month in a small and very lovely war-era Dutch row house, which our host generously gives us freedom to...
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A Brief Guide to My Emoji Usage
A Brief Guide to My Emoji Usage
I was sending someone a text message the other day and needed just the right emoji. The conversation was completely over by the time I...
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The Magical Times of Day
The Magical Times of Day
I'm just going to go ahead and assume that everybody has a "magical" time of day: a moment on the clock face you enjoy, and...
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The Knowledge it Takes
The Knowledge it Takes
Was just walking around Luling, Louisiana, thinking about how much you have to know to really understand a place, when I found the perfect example...
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Interesting Links

Against Argument
Because there's no shortage of writing about politics (if thats still what we're calling it these days), I'm especially refreshed when I read a new and...
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Mapping Above and Below the City
Mapping Above and Below the City
If you're anything like me, its impossible to follow a set of stairs into any subway system without wondering how everything above ground interfaces with...
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Kill The Parking
Kill The Parking
Mexico City is ditching parking requirements for new development. Why in the world would one of the most traffic-congested cities in the world (a ranking...
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The Eastern Capital
The Eastern Capital
Here's a vaguely architectural project that impinges upon the more pleasant periphery of the artistic: imagine a project to rebrand China as a cultural rather...
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No Home Go Home
No Home Go Home
Words paired with sketches my using tea left ink, entitled "No Home Go Home / Go Home No Home." What could be more satisfying these...
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The Vulnerability of Sensitivity
The Vulnerability of Sensitivity
It seems that the most sensitive souls are able to find the most beautiful things about the world, but that sensitivity is a tremendous vulnerability...
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Evidence
Evidence
Can the cryptic, strange, and disparate contents of government agency photography archives be art? Of course they can! At least when assembled by artists with the...
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Read On

Expression, curation, and exploration. Check out specific categories in the menu above, or the full stream below.

Against Argument

Because there’s no shortage of writing about politics (if thats still what we’re calling it these days), I’m especially refreshed when I read a new and well-considered viewpoint on what is, obviously enough to me and a few other people, more than an issue of ideology or personality. Our world is shaped by our decisions and behaviors, often in unexpected ways. Adam Thirlwell of the Paris Review does a great job here of relating ourselves to this world we’ve inadvertently created.

Mapping Above and Below the City

If you’re anything like me, its impossible to follow a set of stairs into any subway system without wondering how everything above ground interfaces with everything below ground. Even a rudimentary set of orientation instincts tells you that what is happening in these tunnels is not directly mirrored above ground. So, needless to say, I find these X-ray maps of NYC subway stations by Candy Chan absolutely fascinating. I love the approach to mapping and architecture shown in these drawings!

These days

It’s hard to follow current events these days and not comment on them. I try not to follow things too closely (the constant breathlessness will eat you alive), I try not to become invested in the way the world progresses (after all, nobody cares what I think about things), and I try not to add my voice to the angry clamor (there are too many screaming voices as it is). But at a point one has to speak, somehow, no matter how ineffectively, to say THIS WAY OF CONDUCTING OURSELVES IS NOT OK. We cannot survive as a people of anger. We must be a people of compassion.

I have chosen to be a man of compassion. It’s not much, I know, but it strikes me as the only way to start making the world better.

Be well, and love always. It sounds cheesy, but there’s nothing in the world more important.

Whistles in the Night

There are whistles in the night here in Luling; sustained and shrieking tones, vaguely metallic, always as if from some impossible distance. Everyone assumes they come from the chemical plant, I’m sure. That’s why nobody knows what I’m talking about when I mention them. People tune these strange sounds out for a variety of reasons, all centered around the necessity of avoiding confrontation with the unspeakable. But popular opinion on their origin is immaterial in this case: what if these tones are not the sound of the plant itself, but the sound of some effect of, or even response to it? I can’t help but feel they constitute a warning, or worse, some supernatural version of “Taps.”

I find myself staying up late to listen to them.