with every sweet drop thatmy mouth enjoys thereare 99 devils thattake a molecule for them-selves and yet thiswill not satisfy theirticklish bellies sothey askfor more.
Category: journal
excuses
last week i thought it was the Russians. i blamed their aching orchestrations, familiar and distant. Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky, Rachmaninoff. finally, the broadcasts finished. this week i blame Marguerite Duras. how can one read a novel titled The Malady of Death and not fall through the cracks, fall to a high and lonely place? the stillness.… Continue reading excuses
to write oneself better
please summon all cells to the important task of healing.flow with the blood,bring fresh air to the empty places, starved for breath. burn a little. let the wounds receive a new layer of skin,revive, feel what it is like to live again. the pressure can sublimate — pass from a solid painto an evaporated nothing.
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all this time denouncing the screen: i’m sick of the screen, tied to the screen. this is the right idea for interactive projects in general, but maybe not so for text and the written word. what’s wrong with a surface, after all? a video projection extends the page, is as limiting as the page, but… Continue reading [ ]
let go
this beat is getting me electric. laid-back ecstatic. if you want a ride, don’t ride the white horse. my perfect traintrack. i checked every seat, no one left a half-devoured New York Times for me. my friend didn’t get on today, or he hasn’t left Boston yet. can’t postpone the lack of inspiration, have to look it… Continue reading let go
so she says
this one has the means but not the dreams. gifts and treasures of the sharp mind and luscious flesh. a dream is not something you can give, you can’t ribbon-wrap and tissue-sheath a purpose. to make them come true, they need to be there in the first place. a dream is a chicken, an egg… Continue reading so she says
what else can i be
it’s not so much that i mind giving up my reality for a time – that can be delicious and necessary, like molting. wriggling free from the skin of your former perspective on the world. a world that surrounds you, comes from you. most of the time we don’t get rid of the old skins… Continue reading what else can i be