oh, renoir

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
overripe, peachy bits of rough trade, with yearning mouths and hair like black ice cream

textual relations/e-ruptions
the ignorance of present physical space allows for the activation and recognition of past space, which is always already a portion of present mental space. once i stood in a physical room facing a wall of windows and you were there and so was rain falling and golden glitter falling on glue. i can still stand before those windows, only now they are once removed: they have become the screen for memory's projection. i peer through the mental room onto the space of that which once was. ("and doesn't every landscape metamorphose? who can still recognize the intimacy of his birthplace? into his home the supernatural has descended. and everything is thereby changed. no more artless embraces. mystery invests the simplest gesture. a day of reckoning, both brutal and too slow, is expected, feared.")

the difference is between seeing only coming and going, only entrances and exits and seeing in the midst. like the difference between the waves at shore and at sea. see?

i want to hit you hard enough that there is a pause of confusion in yr face before reaction. in this moment i will stuff it in yr mouth, abating tears and sounds.

yes, it's true, charles demuth, the abuse, the dead father, the alcoholic mother, the guns, the car parts, the factory, the orchard, the apples and cherries. maybe you could pick me up like a dancer from a dance. maybe you could make a mark with blue masking tape on the floor. tape for a square to move in. tape to bind yr wrists with. maybe you could make a square (call the corners and the coroners) in a way that made it feel safe - a shoulder where my ear could fall - for us to dance in. just as much as a church is a place for stillness is it a place for confession and redemption and these are dynamic. an ice cube. a cube of toothpicks. or shattered glass.

dribbling from the corner of yr mouth is something sticky, thick, and red. i watch you finger it, mix spit with it, try to get rid of it, but it's not removable, it's just a rope of graceful that gets stuck when you move yr hand away, ruffling the freshly shorn hair on the back of yr head.

LOOK!
apparition
blab - blast from the past: pdx edition
justin bond - clean white bed + leftover wine
callas forever
child elopers' africa plan spoiled
anna domino - land of my dreams
xiao xiao dong
fargfabriken
katarina hall
wim mertens - struggle for pleasure
joni mitchell - cactus tree
northside - my rising star
dolly parton + kenny rogers - islands in the stream
iggy pop on french tv 1977
miranda lee richards - long goodbye
tiny masters of today - hologram world
transfused
warhol meets spielberg
austin young

LISTEN!
baby dee
big pink
durutti column
fever ray
french letter
inner princess
ladystein
marina + the diamonds
owle bird
pachelbel's canon in d major
section 25
shark vegas - you hurt me
stockholm monsters
tunnelvision