Gary Armstrong
@garyarmstrong.bsky.social
Former CMO of Rolling Stone, Us Weekly, & Men's Journal. Other brands touched: Vanity Fair, Glamour, Details, and Adweek.
Palm Springs Public Arts Commission, and Palm Springs Sister Cities Board.
Palm Springs Public Arts Commission, and Palm Springs Sister Cities Board.
I get bruised every day—physically, emotionally, intellectually, spiritually. Not a confession; an audit. I must be alive enough, open enough, to feel things instead of going numb.
People who never bruise haven’t mastered resilience; they’ve traded sensation for safety.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
People who never bruise haven’t mastered resilience; they’ve traded sensation for safety.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
November 13, 2025 at 1:29 AM
I get bruised every day—physically, emotionally, intellectually, spiritually. Not a confession; an audit. I must be alive enough, open enough, to feel things instead of going numb.
People who never bruise haven’t mastered resilience; they’ve traded sensation for safety.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
People who never bruise haven’t mastered resilience; they’ve traded sensation for safety.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
Full gym today—Palm Springs Pride weekend always turns it into a kind of gay Grand Central, all pumped chests and pre-parade anxiety. Crowded, yes. But still able to find my light.
November 9, 2025 at 3:38 PM
Full gym today—Palm Springs Pride weekend always turns it into a kind of gay Grand Central, all pumped chests and pre-parade anxiety. Crowded, yes. But still able to find my light.
Octavio Paz wrote, “Between going and staying the day wavers, in love with its own transparency.”
Peace, I’ve learned, doesn’t come from arrival or departure. It hides in that trembling space between—the slow exhale when you finally stop deciding who you’re supposed to be.
Peace, I’ve learned, doesn’t come from arrival or departure. It hides in that trembling space between—the slow exhale when you finally stop deciding who you’re supposed to be.
November 4, 2025 at 2:28 PM
Octavio Paz wrote, “Between going and staying the day wavers, in love with its own transparency.”
Peace, I’ve learned, doesn’t come from arrival or departure. It hides in that trembling space between—the slow exhale when you finally stop deciding who you’re supposed to be.
Peace, I’ve learned, doesn’t come from arrival or departure. It hides in that trembling space between—the slow exhale when you finally stop deciding who you’re supposed to be.
In Día de los Muertos tradition, candles guide spirits home, each flame a beacon. Some are for loved ones returning, but others—candles for the lost—are for souls with no altar, and no one waiting. Gestures for the forgotten.
Sometimes the “lost” we’re lighting candles for are closer than we think.
Sometimes the “lost” we’re lighting candles for are closer than we think.
November 2, 2025 at 2:28 PM
In Día de los Muertos tradition, candles guide spirits home, each flame a beacon. Some are for loved ones returning, but others—candles for the lost—are for souls with no altar, and no one waiting. Gestures for the forgotten.
Sometimes the “lost” we’re lighting candles for are closer than we think.
Sometimes the “lost” we’re lighting candles for are closer than we think.
The WH is bleaching culture out of our life: replacing complexity with comfort, difference with denial. They call it restoration; it’s erasure.
Each of us has a share of the weight. We are the new Atlantes, holding up the pluralism others would collapse. The burden is heavy — but it’s sacred.
Each of us has a share of the weight. We are the new Atlantes, holding up the pluralism others would collapse. The burden is heavy — but it’s sacred.
October 26, 2025 at 10:48 PM
The WH is bleaching culture out of our life: replacing complexity with comfort, difference with denial. They call it restoration; it’s erasure.
Each of us has a share of the weight. We are the new Atlantes, holding up the pluralism others would collapse. The burden is heavy — but it’s sacred.
Each of us has a share of the weight. We are the new Atlantes, holding up the pluralism others would collapse. The burden is heavy — but it’s sacred.
Am I protecting my heart or offering it? That’s the question. The joy is real--but philosophers will say joy is fleeting, a trick of circumstance.
Fine. Let’s call it both, though weighted toward offering. Because joy isn’t invention, its recognition.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
Fine. Let’s call it both, though weighted toward offering. Because joy isn’t invention, its recognition.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
October 2, 2025 at 2:36 PM
Am I protecting my heart or offering it? That’s the question. The joy is real--but philosophers will say joy is fleeting, a trick of circumstance.
Fine. Let’s call it both, though weighted toward offering. Because joy isn’t invention, its recognition.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
Fine. Let’s call it both, though weighted toward offering. Because joy isn’t invention, its recognition.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
Plato reminds me the gods endowed men with two arts, cultural and physical, “not for the soul and body separately, but together, that they may be in harmony with one another by tension and relaxation.”
Solid sentiment. But then I look at my feed, I think: Well, we've found the tension.
Solid sentiment. But then I look at my feed, I think: Well, we've found the tension.
October 1, 2025 at 3:22 PM
Plato reminds me the gods endowed men with two arts, cultural and physical, “not for the soul and body separately, but together, that they may be in harmony with one another by tension and relaxation.”
Solid sentiment. But then I look at my feed, I think: Well, we've found the tension.
Solid sentiment. But then I look at my feed, I think: Well, we've found the tension.
When I look at my eyes here, I see tension.
Sultry tension: the held-back, the suggested, the discipline that sharpens desire.
French philosopher Roland Barthes wrote: “What I hide by my language, my body utters.”
The unsaid becomes the shown.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
Sultry tension: the held-back, the suggested, the discipline that sharpens desire.
French philosopher Roland Barthes wrote: “What I hide by my language, my body utters.”
The unsaid becomes the shown.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
September 28, 2025 at 3:18 PM
When I look at my eyes here, I see tension.
Sultry tension: the held-back, the suggested, the discipline that sharpens desire.
French philosopher Roland Barthes wrote: “What I hide by my language, my body utters.”
The unsaid becomes the shown.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
Sultry tension: the held-back, the suggested, the discipline that sharpens desire.
French philosopher Roland Barthes wrote: “What I hide by my language, my body utters.”
The unsaid becomes the shown.
📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
Find someone who sees you differently, who documents you in a light you hadn’t considered. Someone who reveals the superpower you overlooked because you were too busy controlling your own view. 📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
September 26, 2025 at 3:40 PM
Find someone who sees you differently, who documents you in a light you hadn’t considered. Someone who reveals the superpower you overlooked because you were too busy controlling your own view. 📸: @coxpix.bsky.social
So--here I am, looking for hope in the gym bathroom mirror. For beauty, for justice, for anything really--though at this point, I’d settle for an unsplattered mirror.
September 25, 2025 at 3:39 PM
So--here I am, looking for hope in the gym bathroom mirror. For beauty, for justice, for anything really--though at this point, I’d settle for an unsplattered mirror.
I love to tell people how to live their lives.
I should note: I only offer thoughts if asked. When people talk, I listen—even when they don't think I am. I don't accost strangers (but, dudes in the steam room—do us a favor: the place next door gives solid pedicures). You ask, i give.
I should note: I only offer thoughts if asked. When people talk, I listen—even when they don't think I am. I don't accost strangers (but, dudes in the steam room—do us a favor: the place next door gives solid pedicures). You ask, i give.
September 21, 2025 at 2:20 PM
I love to tell people how to live their lives.
I should note: I only offer thoughts if asked. When people talk, I listen—even when they don't think I am. I don't accost strangers (but, dudes in the steam room—do us a favor: the place next door gives solid pedicures). You ask, i give.
I should note: I only offer thoughts if asked. When people talk, I listen—even when they don't think I am. I don't accost strangers (but, dudes in the steam room—do us a favor: the place next door gives solid pedicures). You ask, i give.
Nietzsche wrote, “One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.”
Not perfection. Not rigidity. A star--restless, brilliant, in motion. A surprise, even to me.
Well, that’s just the chaos, ready to tap in sheer socks, garters and patent leather shoes.
Not perfection. Not rigidity. A star--restless, brilliant, in motion. A surprise, even to me.
Well, that’s just the chaos, ready to tap in sheer socks, garters and patent leather shoes.
September 18, 2025 at 2:14 PM
Nietzsche wrote, “One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.”
Not perfection. Not rigidity. A star--restless, brilliant, in motion. A surprise, even to me.
Well, that’s just the chaos, ready to tap in sheer socks, garters and patent leather shoes.
Not perfection. Not rigidity. A star--restless, brilliant, in motion. A surprise, even to me.
Well, that’s just the chaos, ready to tap in sheer socks, garters and patent leather shoes.
A mirror is the foundation of every self-portrait. Faced one way, you see yourself; turn it outward and you’re forced to see the world. I’ll take myself, thanks.
September 16, 2025 at 4:00 PM
A mirror is the foundation of every self-portrait. Faced one way, you see yourself; turn it outward and you’re forced to see the world. I’ll take myself, thanks.
Here is what I know: I am 60, gay, a biological male who has made his body a daily project. Muscle, tone, definition—each rep an argument with gravity. Strip me bare and the work is revealed. But revealed to whom?
People see what they want to see.
People see what they want to see.
September 13, 2025 at 6:33 PM
Here is what I know: I am 60, gay, a biological male who has made his body a daily project. Muscle, tone, definition—each rep an argument with gravity. Strip me bare and the work is revealed. But revealed to whom?
People see what they want to see.
People see what they want to see.
Plato wrote in the Symposium: “Love is the pursuit of the whole.” The challenge isn’t deciding which kind is real, but admitting the phrase never stays still. It changes with time, with bodies, with who’s listening.
September 9, 2025 at 2:48 PM
Plato wrote in the Symposium: “Love is the pursuit of the whole.” The challenge isn’t deciding which kind is real, but admitting the phrase never stays still. It changes with time, with bodies, with who’s listening.
Good morning, Palm Springs.
September 8, 2025 at 1:54 PM
Good morning, Palm Springs.
At its best, Beauty is simple: not possession, but generosity. Not in being adored, but in the act of giving love, in any form, freely, to another.
September 4, 2025 at 2:11 PM
At its best, Beauty is simple: not possession, but generosity. Not in being adored, but in the act of giving love, in any form, freely, to another.
In Paradise Lost, Adam, seeing his reflection, startles and returns—“pleased it returned as soon with answering looks of sympathy and love.”
Not vanity. Recognition.
The body as statement: here I am, the form I choose.
Not vanity. Recognition.
The body as statement: here I am, the form I choose.
September 2, 2025 at 1:58 PM
In Paradise Lost, Adam, seeing his reflection, startles and returns—“pleased it returned as soon with answering looks of sympathy and love.”
Not vanity. Recognition.
The body as statement: here I am, the form I choose.
Not vanity. Recognition.
The body as statement: here I am, the form I choose.
In Los Angeles today for a successful (and laugh-filled) Jazz Bakery Board meeting with my longtime bestie and fellow board member, Karen Kennedy.
August 30, 2025 at 1:35 AM
In Los Angeles today for a successful (and laugh-filled) Jazz Bakery Board meeting with my longtime bestie and fellow board member, Karen Kennedy.
60 isn’t an age they hand you; it’s a verb you get to perform. The world doesn’t get to tell me what it looks like. I do.
That means deciding how I use my ideas, my time, and my body--and how much of each goes on display.
The balance is mine.
That means deciding how I use my ideas, my time, and my body--and how much of each goes on display.
The balance is mine.
August 28, 2025 at 11:23 PM
60 isn’t an age they hand you; it’s a verb you get to perform. The world doesn’t get to tell me what it looks like. I do.
That means deciding how I use my ideas, my time, and my body--and how much of each goes on display.
The balance is mine.
That means deciding how I use my ideas, my time, and my body--and how much of each goes on display.
The balance is mine.
Barcelona, here I come!
August 19, 2025 at 11:45 PM
Barcelona, here I come!
New tank top. You like?
August 17, 2025 at 11:15 PM
New tank top. You like?
My face is busy being. When you look at it, you’re participating in that being. It’s a dialogue, a trigger for a response. My face reacts to us both. If you think I’m sad, maybe you want me to be sad. I’m not. Look closer. Learn my cues. Put them in context.
August 15, 2025 at 2:55 PM
My face is busy being. When you look at it, you’re participating in that being. It’s a dialogue, a trigger for a response. My face reacts to us both. If you think I’m sad, maybe you want me to be sad. I’m not. Look closer. Learn my cues. Put them in context.
“The photograph is the advent of myself as other: a cunning dissociation of consciousness from identity.” --Roland Barthes.
August 11, 2025 at 6:33 PM
“The photograph is the advent of myself as other: a cunning dissociation of consciousness from identity.” --Roland Barthes.
“In front of the lens, I am at the same time: the one I think I am, the one I want others to think I am, the one the photographer thinks I am, and the one he makes use of to exhibit his art.”--Roland Barthes
August 9, 2025 at 2:19 PM
“In front of the lens, I am at the same time: the one I think I am, the one I want others to think I am, the one the photographer thinks I am, and the one he makes use of to exhibit his art.”--Roland Barthes