[notes, docs, drawings, recordings, library, ephemera]
text collection for kindread / bloodmoon
july 30 2015
reruns work most of the time
if it’s going to come roaring out anyway let’s press our stories into dirty diamonds. withholding is tragedy, curation is murder. reruns work most of the time, labored over and emptied out. we have cats in the cradle about that, a constant rumbling reminder of human frailty under suggestion of discomfort. terra firma is overrated. find wild peace in that thought.
july 30 2015
the ant hill and the pinnacle
please crowd my head with acts of fondness. the truth is i don’t remember the truth, vacillating wildly between the ant hill and the pinnacle. airplanes and you feel the same to me, flying down bowery and straight into the tear gas. am i a capsule or a cloud? this collage is really having a moment. he’s a warby parker model. he has a lot of gusto. he internet-owes me but you feelings-owe me.
sincerity might kill me.
not yet, wait, ok. now.
i need to try pot again.
july 28 2015
a run-of-the-mill wigout
we are afraid of being too much & too strong & too honest. who told us this a turn off? i never used to think of myself. now i might be embarrassed. i declare vulnerability and no one doesnt want that. let’s pretend that that’s not a thing we feel. how does everyone walk around pretending not to care? let’s not walk around like open wounds. let’s unlock our own cages. let’s crawl out and learn looseness. it’s not embarrassing to be a person. look at these cats. when you move while listening to the poetry, you find the rhythm in your body, which is cool.
july 28 2015
i saw Elizabeth Streb drawing Chairman Mao on the g train
i saw Elizabeth Streb drawing Chairman Mao on the g train. i saw bearded brooklyn catnip. i saw abandoned silver tinsel celebrating itself on wednesday. i saw your side-eye. i saw my slouching.
april 10 2015 and july 30 2015
we are androids
how much of what I believe is due to sleep deprivation? hunger? email fatigue? carpal tunnel? noise pollution? pms? secondhand smoke? polyester? pesticides? long commutes? the bends? public drunkenness? poor ui? tendonitis? fish farms? spam? night blindness? student debt? flight delays? antibiotics? phantom limb? the moon? other people's addictions? but seriously.
april 9 2015
what we almost called our dance
keep in mind: the only downside is all of it.
i won’t dance inside your words. embodied learning is new to me.
are you sick of us yet?
just remember: their minds are chaos. cute but psycho but cute.
semiotics victims, composing under the east river.
come on, chemicals, help me write this ship. be my neighbor, the sugar is for keeps.
perfume poodle mountain is what we almost called our dance.
november 18 2014
A conversation between Tara Sheena and Lydia Mokdessi-- dancer, maker, writer, and newest editor of Culturebot, an influential online platform for discourse on experimental performance. Their conversation spans the many challenges of dance and writing, embracing them and subverting them all together. Both speak about their own writing practice; a mutual appreciation for disgruntled audience members and snarky critics; the weird social constructs embedded in writing and performance; ephemerality versus the Internet; and a new initiative they have both worked to develop with Culturebot and University Settlement: Community of Practice. Tune in!
june 29 2014
text collection for what the heck is this, karate?
men down a hole it's great down here I'm really enjoying myself yes it's great to be away from our wives
i saw the years of my life spaced along a road in the form of telephone poles. i counted one two three nineteen telephone poles and the wires dangled into space
her early work was influenced by the artists who lingered around the apartment
you look as though you have come from Paris on foot that is no state to come to a dance in
her skirt brushed my knees and she looked
later i sat up in bed in my bathrobe studying German
your doctor knows the symbols
all of these issues or non issues are, as they say, just politics
this volume contains slightly revised versions
the will is thought of as a faculty of determining itself to action
you don't have to by god worry about bein' disappointed
june 13 2014
in-process writings for no subject lineage / a dance for them
in the future, i tried to write a novel. as a child, i’m practicing being. i’m being here. i was being there. i am writing now. i was writing more in the future than as a child. as a child i will construct a future. as a child i will. in the future i understood more. trying to be a child is like trying to imagine oneself. imagining one’s future failures as if they’re in the past and looking upon them with regret or wistfulness or fondness or gratefulness. this is fucking bewildering.
june 26 2014
just thinking here’s my hand. shifting caveman neck. met museum curvature. taxi light. vertical umbilical. shot-put bowling. windshield wipers, they pivot to the back. the far-away gaze. turtle brow. arms hang down your front.
june 27 2014 [Benjamin Wagner]
Personal, whole, day-to-day, future life. Skipping decisions of my 20s. Motivated by potential dread. Bubbly, outdoors. Running in squares skipping the appealing part of you with a dollar a day, A DOLLAR A DAY! I'm here to say let's keep this drinking water, I mean, you know, this delicious New York city drinking water.