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Sunday, March 01, 2009

Karner Blue Estates by Rowland Saifi

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Printer's Ball this Friday at MCA

Black Lodge Press will be there!

Thursday, May 08, 2008

What is Spring without Winter's Fossil?

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Dual Release Party

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Thursday, July 12, 2007

Kerouac Found Advertising for Comcast!

Monday, May 21, 2007

They are not real

Thinking of pronouns as receptacles. Characters as containers. To be filled with what it is I am thinking about. Immense and limitless when pronouns. Concise and finite when characters. There's a freedom when I stop thinking of pronouns as people. Any sort of notion of reality is supplied by the reader. Language need not be concerned with reality--readers take care of that--only surfaces, ornamentation, acrobatics, vehicularizing across the page all the stuff that gathers within. They took a bath today. Little water, the leftovers from washing the clothes. They let what they had been hiding roll forth across each other's senses, like marbles spilled from an untied bag, like hardwood floors was the sound of vulnerability in their ears. They were naked, and soft--loving and aware. They were illogical, wet, bird-like, whimsy plastered upon a window, curtains' sole purpose to ornament. They were never told that we start with a floor, then move through space, and end with a ceiling. Not today they weren't, and many more days piled up in the folds of their skin. They washed the dishes with the very little water that was left. Held out buckets towards each other; took buckets in return. They were yellow, limp, and descending into garbage piles, if only to dispel the notion of garbage.

Friday, April 06, 2007

Quick Essay on Chicago Artist Identity

read this. do people living in other cities feel the same way? Is this just some bullshit angle, a spin on artists' identity aimed for recognition, uniqueness? Buy this art because it is not aware that it is a product Process over product is something that I identify with, and in fact, feel proud/energized to know other chicagoans perceive their actions in the same way. But it seems contradictory, in a bad way, to end this type of sentiment, found in the essay, with an encouragement to buy the very art that claims it doesn't care whether it is bought or not. But still, the artists efforts seem awesome, and this is just the way the essay's writer has spun them.