first of a series on feminist poetics&performance, begins with a reading group, tomorrow on the mountain, come lie around and read and talk with us.
more info here: https://www.facebook.com/events/1466928770208804/1467969856771362/?notif_t=plan_mall_activity
I’m the other half of this organizing collab. come! and if you’re near montreal and want to be a visiting reader, get in touch.
4:01 pm • 6 May 2014 • 8 notes
“Now I am here, in the future of color. I’m sorry I do not have more to say about the period of submergence that preceded my arrival. I am not interested in it. I do not recall it. I … It was only when my car stopped that I realized what I had to do, on my own terms, with my own two legs: get going. Is that how you say it? Get up and go. The destiny of my body as separate from my childhood: I came here to hitchhike. I came here to complete a thing I began in another place.”
— Bhanu Kapil, from Text to Complete a Text
9:47 pm • 22 December 2012 • 8 notes
"Vanessa Veselka: Let’s talk more about crying. When do your characters do it? Do they do it? If they do is it like masturbation, mostly done in private?
Lidia Yuknavitch: No! Not in private! In fact, I consider it part of my writerly goal to get the crying out of the closet. Again, relegated to a ‘feminized’ space, a privatized space, a space of weakness. But crying can be a power move. There are studies of chimps that show that. In nonfiction and fiction I represent crying as a set of power choices, even when the crying is connected to vulnerability.
VV: I notice my characters tend to cry when they’re mad, in public, or walking down the center of streets.
LY: I love that about your characters. The opening of my Joan of Arc book is her crying sfter she has basically slaughtered her enemies.
VV: That’s awesome. That’s so much more to the heart of how I think of crying. Overwhelm and conflict. I’m pretty sure I would cry coming out of a battle rage and looking at the people I’d slaughtered.”
from Violence, a 2012 chapbook on Guillotine press
7:18 pm • 13 October 2012 • 29 notes
THE COW - ARIANA REINES
I know that you are not cattle. I feel alone inside of you. I walk around and the dead insects crunch. I don’t know what to say about your beauty. What is it exactly about the feeling of excludedness a certain kind of girl makes you feel in your arousal. Dear complete women, dear intelligent women, please do not take things lying down.
Nobody cares about your intelligence I do not care. I want a world to live in.
I will not train myself to love this shit.”
9:35 pm • 16 August 2012 • 9 notes
weird shit I’ve started caring about this year
renewing my passport
going to the gym
bringing gifts for my parents when I visit my hometown
the new york poetry scene
financial responsibility and budgeting
food that isn’t pizza
resisting ambiguous and terrible romantic situations
going to conferences
anything for “the sake of the children”
what’s happening to me this is so weird
but also: what if being organized and responsible means I can be messy and awful in grander, more public and satisfying ways? I’m sick of boredom and teenage feelings and being so stressed all the time, I’d like to fail in more interesting ways than this.
internet-bedroom physical atrophy durational performance project COMPLETE. until next winter anyways. now I’m about experimental responsibility. my parents have no idea how deviant I think I’m being.
11:50 am • 28 July 2012 • 24 notes
“I often write about material I feel resistance to, material that makes me uncomfortable, because that creates a charge for me, a sort of erotics of disclosure.”
— Dodie Bellamy
1:25 pm • 1 July 2012 • 17 notes
She sees the present as a great tear, a great rip in the surface of things: the gap of which is at first impossible for her to move across (…does not thinking seek forever to clamp a dressing over the gaping and violent wound of the impossibility of thought…?) It is awareness of this that makes linear narrative impossible. A virtually tragic awareness, for the writing “I,” which modernists began to “deconstruct” as they recognized that gap (accepted to give up power) has, in her case, been “deconstructed” a priori by social conditions. She is not only split between the self and the “real”, but also within the self…
So the question becomes how to write across the almost … hysterical … overdetermination of her gaps…
Maybe my resistance to the narrative conventions of the novel have to do with what I think of as its Protestant qualities: its earnest representation of the “real,” its greed for action, its preference for the concrete over the philosophical.
A compromise might be possible: structuring the story by means of the fluctuations in her … (dare I?) hysterical voice. The use of the voice invoking a poetic meaning in excess of the sentence….
Blows: violent and unusual interruptions in her narrative texture-which texture the writing is hopefully starting to discover. More and more I intuit that it has to do with starting from a negative point: a crushed ego that doesn’t see its boundaries.
— Gail Scott, from “Paragraphs Blowing on a Line”
12:50 am • 30 June 2012 • 7 notes
“Simone Weil was a performative philosopher. Because her texts are really notebook writings, there isn’t ever any subject that’s apart from her. Which is not to say she’s writing “memoir” or “autobiography.” Channeling her subjects through her person, Weil does what writers do. She is constructing a narrative in realtime—arriving at a state of openness, witnessed by her audience, the reader—in which thoughts fly in and out according to who’s listening. In Weil’s philosophy, just like in narrative or phone sex, it’s not the story that we’re really hearing, it is the fact and act of telling it. Her thought approaches narrative—an emotional transparency that occurs when someone else is listening to you.”
— Chris Kraus
12:22 am • 30 June 2012 • 16 notes
"This entry is a complete and total waste of technology."
- my livejournal circa 2005
2:18 am • 13 June 2012 • 2 notes
“…things are so bad, so minimally imaginative for women’s prospects when it comes to thinking about the relation of the sexual theater to capturing a life, that people tend to do the thing they heard about doing just to get through the situation, and if it means poisoning themselves and wearing out their bodies, or being over- or understimulated, even, they’ll do it.”
— Lauren Berlant
11:42 am • 16 May 2012 • 7 notes