September 16th, 2013 § § permalink
A 5521 kilometer-long open wound the salty ocean won’t let scar
“Wild tongues can’t be tamed, they can only be cut out” —Gloria Anzaldúa
My Top 3 #lastfm Artists: Julianna Barwick (35), Slow Dancing Society (28) & Lubomyr Melnyk (19)
Your art/work is what makes me hold on & admire you. I’m in awe of the chance of experiencing the vast unknown w/in your work —with you.
Olfactory memory, how your tentacles suffocate me so tender
Brazilian jazz you make my love my body —Flora Purim, Airto Moreira, Astrud Gilberto …
Staying home to read poetry. Staying home to learn new words to love you with.
Chile’s made some great poets—Pablo Neruda: “As if you were on fire from within. / The moon lives in the lining of your skin.”
London, chasing light with you has been a pleasure / The moments our speeds cross paths I burst with energy & love for you with me.
My Top 3 #lastfm Artists: Lubomyr Melnyk (24), Slow Dancing Society (21) & Austra (21)
i’m eating a squash/spinach salad & drinking a gluten free beer I snuck in at the club in Brixton while everyone dances to drum’n'bass in Brixton
The sun bouncing around the English countryside & through my train window, hello there
“We are each other’s orientation devices. We self-alienate in relating by recognizing the other as both that which grabs us and that which turns us away and into the world.”
Lancaster, your tender sunset & wind out my window are so lovely. Thank you.
Attempts at sleep with music on headphones when not having slept for a really long time always imparts amorous beguiling images.
Love as responsibility towards the Other.
Where is my Colonel Sanders & his magic of “Abbreviating Sensory Processing of Continuos Information” ?
April 11th, 2013 § § permalink
My little brother, Tomek, is turning 20 on April 20. He was born in 1993, also known as the best year of music. I can’t believe he’s turning 20. On the eve of my 20th birthday I was in the hospital with a boyfriend dealing with an unplanned pregnancy. I wonder what his reality in art school Toronto is like?
Tomek is a feminist sensitive type at OCADU. He takes photos & illustrates bizarre things & makes electronic music & skateboards his days away. I raised him right! When he was very young & I was just starting university, I used to come home, hold him down and force him to say: “Gender is just a performance”; “Foucault is my hero”; “I’m a feminist”, and so on. Older sister coerced feminism.
Sometimes people mistake us for a couple because he looks much older than he is & I act much younger than I am. One time at Hero Burger, the cashier thought I was a cougar buying lunch for my “cub”. We totally ham it up every time. OBV.
Click for 2011 dedication post!
His music, in my opinion, show the most promise. He’s been at it since I got him Reason 2.5 in 2003.
brunch in Toronto 2012
no caption needed. if you know, you know.
Holidays 2012 in Toronto with mom
December 2011 when he came to visit me in Montreal
A few days before I moved to Montreal, 2011
in 2010 tomek & i wanted to start a band thing
January 16th, 2013 § § permalink
Summer of 2007 I took out an ad in the weekend edition of the Toronto Star for $299.75.
Before Twitter I was much more verbose. This is the mockup they sent with a fake number.
November 15th, 2012 § § permalink
Are self-hating Polish Jews Nazi sympathizers? I imagine my city, my country, my ancestors —I imagine the children born of Nazi rapes walking around the destroyed Warsaw streets holding phantoms inside them. Children playing in the communal playgrounds, holding each other’s hands and gripping tightly unable to let go when the blood stops to circulate. They ask about their father and their mother answers the story she has tricked herself to believe, or maybe it’s true by now too — “Your dad died in the War.”
A child born of hate, orders and power. How many of these children were born? Hundreds? Thousands? How many women performed abortions only to die?
Now those children had children too, and I’m of that generation. I was raised to hate Jews, to blame them for the Holocaust and for communism. “It’s their fault” everyone would say, the newspaper headlines would scream, the elderly would grimace. And so I did hate them, because I didn’t think. I hated the Russians, I hated the Jews, I hated the ‘Western’ world. I hated how I was picked on for not looking Polish enough with my sharp face and dark features. I hated how much my family hated me and how alone I felt because I didn’t understand how adults can hate a child so intensely and intently for just being. The phantoms of my past and of my birth weighing so heavy. They were phantoms inside me because I didn’t know or understand the complexity of history and memory.
(I watched The Night Porter recently &&& I hope you’ll excuse the work in progress of my stream of consciousness notes but I need to figure out how to articulate this in a public space… tbc & all that)
November 1st, 2012 § § permalink
« next to never / sometimes you make yourself forget / to make yourself forget / to forget you / how to forget you / to forget / how to forget / to forget it »
October 14th, 2012 § § permalink
— the world is full of words – write to me —
write me romantic words of superflous proportions —steal poet’s words, steal all the words in the world to make me believe I am in one of those books I carry with me every time I move across the world. You know which ones, the heavy ones, the ones of female desire, the ones of beating heads on hardwood floors. Take all those words, move them around, and see why I love those words so much. Eat the words and shit them out to see how they look like in all the ways. Write to me, on paper, on the computer, on napkins, on the metro, on the road, on receipts, on magazines, on books, on newspaper clippings, on you, on me, on them, on the trees. Write to me with fingers full of blood expanding to show me the love you say you have. Keep writing, write like it’s a Grecian marathon, keep writing in the most detailed ways possible. Use examples. Use verbs. Use the clarity of Joan Didion. Or write me a few words, simple words, big words, complicated words. Write me however, whenever, but write me often and write to me, not to them, not for the world to see. Just me, just write it to me, because your love is not for them, but for me, and a love song is not a love letter.
I promise I won’t make that mistake again.
October 8th, 2012 § § permalink
I started this project that’s a series of vignettes, of events, of feelings, of affections based on a trigger of the day. The trigger can be an event, or a word, or a conversation, but it has to trigger some sort of affect in me. Instead of writing about what happened in a ‘truthful’ way, I write around it with a lens of fantasy, or a memory, re-articulated to fit in whatever I imagine in my mind. I have the worst memory in the world, and I know everyone says they do, but I really do. People get upset and offended because I don’t remember important details of things, or moments that we have shared. Sometimes I draw complete blanks and nothing seems to trigger the memories. I want to write more about memory, but I have a paper due on cathaxis tomorrow from a Laplanche book I am about 1/4 through. I can’t believe I’m re-engaging in psychoanalysis again. Maybe it’ll help me better manipulate myself.
I am convinced that our childhood memories get re-articulated into interactions that best describe our feelings of our past in the present, and not the actual past event. I remember when I was in my early 20′s I tried to convince my mom I was a year younger than I was, and that the hospital made a mistake and she blocked the memory because it was too traumatic for her. I have been doing this since I was young. I re-make memories to evoke reactions in others and in myself. Cinema is truth 24 frames a second? Cinema is a lie 24 frames a second? I am cinema.
The general point of the project, which is bound to take on some academic mumbo jumbo meaning at some point, is to see whether I actually remember the trigger source, or whether I start to believe in the scenarios I outline. How much do I engage with that past in the present?
Oh it’s on my main website page http://raisecain.net
PS. MP3: Listen to Rucyl’s music & mixes. She is keeping me afloat in these times. http://rucyl.com/
PPS. I handed in my doctoral exam on 5 October. My defense is next month. I can hardly believe everything that is happening at once. If I pass I can go on to start research for my dissertation. Scholarship applications are activating the death drive in me. Next week I fly to Manchester via London.