What I know is that I don’t want it to be poetic. The time has passed when my poetry was poetic—if in fact my poetry was ever ...
In Woolf’s final, unfinished manuscript, she employs a “methodology of disorder” that enables “that state of mind in which it ...
We ‘are’ our attention; but when we are attentive, we aren’t ‘there’—at least not for others. And perhaps not even for ourselves.” ...
The problem we face involves the degree to which the truth must now compete with such a vast multiplicity of falsehoods that discovering truth itself becomes unviable.” ...
Adam Phillips, the SKIMS NYC flagship, and an app to make you fall in love with hindsight—on flirtation, “the art of making ambivalence into a game.” ...
Rose Hobart presages Bruce Conner’s A MOVIE (1958) by more than twenty years. Made of found footage that Conner took from different films that he had accumulated, including newsreels, soft-core ...
About six months after our daughter was born, my husband calmly set the idea on the table, like a decorative gun. I said I’d think about it. I couldn’t pretend to be that surprised by the proposition, ...
An encounter with Emerson’s essays. This past October, I found myself in the store looking at a 1990 Vintage Books edition of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Essays. Not having read much Emerson before, even as ...
The voice on the phone belonged to Joshua, a friend with whom I had gotten sober years ago. Back then, in the nineties, driving to and from twelve-step meetings held in smoky church basements across ...
Late last year, I found myself in a meeting with three other women, and we were all dressed identically. Blue jeans of various washes, clumpy, Chelsea-style black boots with pull-on tabs, parkas (shed ...
A form of life that keeps itself in relation to a poetic practice, however that might be, is always in the studio, always in its studio. Its—but in what way do that place and practice belong to it?
Some results have been hidden because they may be inaccessible to you
Show inaccessible results