Magdalena O!

Participants:
————-
Me, You

Messages:
———
Me: Ahhhhhh
You: aaahhhh
Me: !!!!!!!!!!!!
You: have a nice day
Me: You too
Me: Bye
Me: You
You:  bye
Me: Have a nice day
Me: You
Me: Wonderful
Me: You
You:  me
You: me
You: me
Me: You
Me: You
Me: And me
You: and you
Me: Ahhhhhhh

Anton’s Memory Exhibition, Venice, August 2009

This is a picture I took of the famous poem I stumbled upon earlier this year that made me fall in love with Yoko Ono, and in turn it gave me the words to fall in love with you.

Penestin, France, July 2009

After I sat on a cliff watching the Atlantic Ocean it rained. It was my first time. I cried because it hurt and opened me. I had to bike back to my caravan with heavy clothes. I was climbing the rain.

+

Touch

My hands
open the curtains of your being
clothe you in a further nudity
uncover the bodies of your body
My hands
invent another body for your body

-Octavio Paz

+

Dalida Statue, Montmartre, Paris, July 2009

This is Dalida. She is a goddess, but really an Egyptian-born French singer. Three of her lovers committed suicide after being with her. I took her photo from all angles, especially to showcase her hair. It reminds me of mine. It reminds me of the story of Samson and his locks. I am pretending to be between them right now. Saul Williams in a poem, This Type of Love says: “…I want a love that makes me want to cut off all my hair. Well maybe not all of the hair, maybe like I’d cut the split ends and trim the mustache but it would still be a symbol of how strong my love is for her.” Yes! I say this so much as an extension of my love! I am so fervent about my long hair. It’s everywhere. Playtime!

have sunk so deep

i am bleeding

they have tried to heal my wounds but it is only you who can

when they try to heal me, it is not a happy time

we do not sing together or kiss like kids

instead i gnaw and gnaw at their bodies because they are unable to fill my wounds

so i must create new ones

“We are in this together. Why are you so selfish? You need to be there or how can I be hard? Don’t you want me to be hard for you? If you are not there, then what do you expect. It is two of us. Two people are there, the desire doesn’t just belong to you.”

“Why do you insist on giving it to me then?”

“Why is there dogs around?”

“Who is barking? There are no dogs.”

“Write songs.”

“Now?”

“Yes. Let’s write it. You and me. It’s a day for songs.”

Who is this even happening to? Where are these kids? WHY DON’T I WRITE ANYMORE?! There is letters, unsent letters, sent emails, draft emails, scraps of paper, translations, quotes. I am covered in words yet there seems to be no sufficient output. It’s easy to fall in love with words. THEN WHY AREN’T YOU IN LOVE WITH ME?

Oh, who is in love with you? Me? Who? We are together holding hands. I have chip crumbs stuck to my fingers. There is so much love. What love is lacking. What is lacking?

CRUMBELINA!

“If I start I never want to stop. I can just go & go. Why did you stop? I can be hard again you know. Just give me a chance.”

“It’s not always about you.”

“Your honesty is a ridiculous contradiction.”

MILK GIVES.

Milk it. Milk me. Let me nourish you. Be your mother. When you close your eyes, I turn into her. Morphée and I take your life in the night. How easily you fall into us then.