A Cottony Fate

"A Cottony Fate"

Long ago, someone
told me: avoid or. 

It troubles the mind
as a held-out piece of meat disturbs a dog. 

Now I too am sixty.
There was no other life.

- by Jane Hirshfield, from The Paris Review (Summer 2014)

Body and Kentucky Bourbon

In the dark, my mind's night, I go back
to your work-calloused hands, your body

and the memory of fields I no longer see.
Cheek wad of chew tobacco,

Skoal-tin ring in the back pocket
of threadbare jeans, knees

worn through entirely. How to name you:
farmhand, Kentucky boy, lover.

The one who taught me to bear
the back-throat burn of bourbon.

Straight, no chaser, a joke in our bed,
but I stopped laughing; all those empty bottles,

kitchen counters covered with beer cans
and broken glasses. To realize you drank

so you could face me the morning after,
the only way to choke down rage at the body

sleeping beside you. What did I know
of your father's backhand or the pine casket

he threatened to put you in? Only now,
miles and years away, do I wince at the jokes:

white trash, farmer's tan, good ole boy.
And now, alone, I see your face

at the bottom of my shot glass
before my own comes through.

- "Body and Kentucky Bourbon" by Saeed Jones, from Prelude to Bruise (2014)

A Small Stretch

From the backlog of things I never posted:

Grand Junction, Colorado; July 2014

Stone by Stone

Recently I've been preoccupied into "head-above-water" mode. I'm somewhat exhausted by everything I'm doing, but I'm also exhilarated: there is an overwhelming, if complicated, sense of relief in being absolutely overtaken by the things that excite me. The past few weeks have been a time of reading, of writing, of watching, of listening, of exploring, of talking. Sufficient time doesn't exist for all of it. I feel as though, maybe, I'm beginning to seize my own agency once again.

Thanks for being a part of that in reading this.

- "Rio Grande" by Ikebe Shakedown, from Stone by Stone (2014)

Baby Ride Easy

- "Baby Ride Easy" by Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash, from Out Among the Stars (recorded in 1981 and 1984; released in 2014)

Disappointing Elephants

As seen on the website of the artist Miriam Elia.

In 2014, Elia was nearly sued by the Penguin Group for her book We Go To The Gallery, a satire of the popular Peter and Jane series. (The book is dark, weird, and painfully funny; you can read tidbits here.) Penguin claimed that Elia's work, independently made and published in an initial pressing of 1,000 copies, infringed on their copyright of the original series. They ordered her to stop selling the book and to destroy any remaining copies she owned.

As you might have guessed, a lot of artists, writers, and human beings thought that was a little far-reaching. But Penguin's voice (and wallet) was bigger, and Elia was—as far as I can tell—elbowed out of the mild and non-threatening success her work had earned her. If that weren't bad enough, a year after issuing their cease-and-desist to Elia, Penguin began a new series of Ladybird books for adults on topics like "dating," "the hangover," and "the mid-life crisis." I haven't read any of these books, but I have a more than slight suspicion that the ideas were copped from Elia.

All is right in the world.

Improvisation (Girl)

A month or two ago, I was feeling pretty down and decided to watch the movie Antichrist.

As you might guess from the title, this was not a wise decision. I went from being sad to disgusted and scared. The movie is saturated with hellish images of nature, like a fox disemboweling itself. There's also a lot of gruesome bodily harm, like Charlotte Gainsbourg cutting off her own body parts. And that's the least explicit description I could muster. There's also a fine scene in which Willem Dafoe, whose leg is attached to a grindstone, crawls into a foxhole to seek refuge from his grief-stricken, bloodthirsty wife.

In summary, this movie is messed up. Worth watching, if you like being unsettled and perplexed and physically uncomfortable. It's also got some deep commentary on femininity, loss, religion, and the like. Just prepare, if you do see it, to be a little fraught and grossed-out.

The final shot

So anyway, the imagery in the below poem reminded me (much less disturbingly) of Antichrist. I don't mean to impose my own associations, or to dictate your interpretation of this poem. I'm just blathering, as usual.

Regardless, may you read and appreciate this.

"Improvisation (Girl)"

I think she wanted to explain

                                      the silence

             hidden

within her voice—

blue egg in the nettles.

            She wrote something

on a rock, used the rock

                        to bash in the skull

             of an injured deer.

Bloodied swan-neck arms.

                                        She

slinks into her own viscera,

a baby fox

             backing into its trunkhole.

The wordbone's connected to the

                         gutbone.

Meanwhile, her desire

           for nobody now

bucks like a rabbit

                           under her ground.

by Rebecca Lindenberg, from The Logan Notebooks (2014) 

Monster

If you like scary movies, I encourage you to watch this. It's a short film called Monster, created by the filmmaker Jennifer Kent. Eventually, she took a lot of the themes and ideas from this piece and wove them into the 2014 film The Babadook, which she wrote and directed. In case you haven't seen it, I'll refrain from writing any spoilers, but suffice it to say that The Babadook is a terrifyingly honest meditation on motherhood and mourning. It may be the most intelligent and truly scary horror film I've seen in the last several years. Monster is like the CliffNotes version: slightly less intense and experiential, but interesting enough to fill you in and make you sound smart.

- Monster (2005) by Jennifer Kent

Letter to a Frozen Peas Manufacturer

El Camino auto-post number four: Today I'm (hopefully) in Arzua.

Below is a very short story by the writer Lydia Davis, who's made a living writing wonderfully unusual and (very short) stories.

"Letter to a Frozen Peas Manufacturer"

Dear Frozen Peas Manufacturer,

We are writing to you because we feel that the peas illustrated on your package of frozen peas are a most unattractive color. We are referring to the 16 oz. plastic package that shows three or four pods, one of them split open, with peas rolling out near them. The peas are a dull yellow green, more the color of pea soup than fresh peas and nothing like the actual color of your peas, which are a nice bright dark green. The depicted peas are, moreover, about three times the size of the actual peas inside the package, which, together with their dull color, makes them even less appealing—they appear to be past their maturity and mealy in texture. Additionally, the color of your illustrated peas contrasts poorly with the color of the lettering and other decoration on your package, which is an almost harsh neon green. We have compared your depiction of peas to that of other frozen peas packages and yours is by far the least appealing. Most food manufacturers depict food on their packaging that is more attractive than the food inside and therefore deceptive. You are doing the opposite: you are falsely representing your peas as less attractive than they actually are. We enjoy your peas and do not want your business to suffer. Please reconsider your art.

Yours sincerely.

 -From Can't and Won't by Lydia Davis (2014)

Analog Magic

Considering how easy, instant, and inexpensive digital means are in modern America, it's progressively rarer to find people using analog media. Not that analog is necessarily inherently better--being able to take digital photographs means that it's much easier to instantly gauge one's perspective and adjust accordingly. It's much cheaper, and allows for nearly-infinite exposures. On the other hand, there is a certain craft to manipulating an analog camera so that you get the shot you want in one or two exposures. And I love the mystery of film, how it's impossible to know what your camera has seen until you develop your roll. It's like waiting for Halloween (or whichever holiday you so prefer).

To step back a minute, I should clarify that I really don't know a lot about photography, especially analog photography. I've never taken a class; I've developed film a grand total of once in my life. I use my digital camera far more often than any of my others. But. I have the basic sense to know when something is impressive, and the work of David Benjamin Sherry is just that.

I think I first saw his work in some art magazine in a waiting room, but I liked it enough to remember him and look him up later. His work is mostly film, and is very invested in unusual color composition. Considering that all of the photographs below were created using only analog techniques and without digital alteration, they're pretty awe-inspiring:

If you liked this, or you want to learn more about these photos, or you simply enjoy clicking on hyperlinks, here is Sherry's website for further perusal.