September 2010
6 posts
frison? why wont my computer go to frison, is it because it is american? if so, can I blame it, even I refuse to give a capital letter the respect it so deserves, language and nation states, who are they and what is it exCtly they want from me? is it not enough, enough, have I not had enough of them yet? Obviously not, not till I have expired and they have every last drop of me and I and he...
perplexed
How do I consider others?
Me, you, them, us, she, he, it. Do they define a negative of to be? What or why is this difference so compelling? What is the fascination with otherness that I seem to have? Is this what may be defined as representational practice? Or, is this difference possibly the ‘spectacle’ of the other? And are we not forced rather violently through culture to...
and still i can’t find my voice. so many questions unanswered, they ring in my head till my ears ache. my voice trips down my spine, into the thick of my shoulders forming subjects of knots, this subject that subject, be this or this or this. but never that. be quiet, don’t ask the one question that locks in my spine causing paralysis of mind. and my back becomes a fortified wall that...
ever so clumsily
ever so very clumsily, on a bright keyboard with a dirty screen, and I’m not sure that the words will be what the words promise to be and the books that should be so much more, aren’t everything, but sometimes, they nearly are, nearly, but not quite…and is love more than the what love should be? while I make these mindful calculations, a figure of a man and a woman peer at...
…most of the time I don’t know what to say. i look across from me and i see foo peering over the wall of technology, i hear him speaking to me, but can’t see his mouth, just his eyes and his voice, trying to connect. how do i, ‘i’, begin a story? a constant expressive block that spans all formats. mass insecurity dogs at every turn. i don’t want to come across,...
WHAT AM I,” then?
“WHAT AM I,” then? Washed since childhood in the waves: milk, smells, stories, sounds, emotions, nursery rhymes, substances, gestures, ideas, impressions, looks, songs, and foods. What am I? I’m totally tied to places, sufferings, ancestors, friends, loves, events, languages, memories, all kinds of things that obviously are not me. Everything that attaches me to the world, all the links that...