It's a Dutch word, I don't know what it means, like a giezer.
What's that? Dick Van Dyke?
Driving up the Henry Hudson Parkway.
I know a dyke when I see one, it's no surprise to me, like my friend who said, I dont' have a husband I have a wife, oh that's great. So was 'she' annoyed you were gone most of the weekend for a training?
"She asked me to clear the leaves from the rain gutter"
Back to water and damns.
I have been thinking about rivers lately.
The Adirondacks
and the way the Hudson starts out as a tinkle.
Then those glorious cliffs that you see as you push your barge down on the tug boat.
The tugboats pushing barges of coal or logs or empty steel flatbeds
and those men on the tug boat
and the places they sleep and what it must be like to tie up a barge
or grab a line and pull it loose
wear gloves
wear coveralls
and jump over coal.
I'd be good at it too, jumping onto moving objects, like a flatbed car from a freight train that whirrs down the tracks. And all that wind and
I'm an outlaw jumping from a car to steal a meal
up in Kentuky.
I'm going up there to do some work.
I have a floppy cap on my head and a beautifully worn tweed wool jacket with holes in the elbows.
I am now in the steel mill.
Past the smoke stacks and the crisscrossing bridges, inside the floor
and holding long prongs.
There's my partner Dyckman from Sweden.
"we gotta get this one out quick before she melts"
It's a rectangular slab we made molten
Now we're lifting it up out of the furnace.
It's even and held by the teeth of both our prongs
we got it balanced
in stride, we handle it, now red, into the cooling bin.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Wonder
Wonderflesh wonderful wonder how I got this way, over the hill, two kids, a dirty apartment and no sex. It all comes from wishes and hope. The hope that someone will change or the wonder at someone's beauty. The awe in their ridges. The ridges of their jaw, their neck, their skin, their sac, I cant write scrotum. I'm too proper. But the wonder and awe of someone's body and how skin can fold on top of skin, like little bumpy waves and carry you under it, the flesh, or ride you beneath it, wondering how you got here. I got here because I made a choice that day during Fleet Week when we met. Yes, a sailor I picked up in Central Park; so not wonderful. And yet it was, in a way, to meet someone from so far, who steps off a boat and onto a bedrock island and walks to a park and meets his wife. I hate that word. Rather his Other, the admirer of his ridges and the candy of their swirling.
Now I wonder where this all works. Go back home to my children, to their wondrous flesh so puffy and soft. Their golden eyes and their wonder at me. They feel everything, they say it to the word.
"FUCK" from my two year old's mouth or "fuckin' underwear" from my four year old this morning. As in, "I don't want to wear those fuckin' underwear."
I fell into her comforter, my head fell into this sheet. Hold me up and cradle my head. This can't be where all this wonder ended up.
She said she copied mommy, or he said she "must have copied mommy" and so she repeated "mommy said it when she gets angry".
I wonder how it got to this? "Grab your shoes, not your golden shoes, fine, I'll take you to school."
The hug on 72nd Street, "it's going to be OK, it's going to be OK" and then my heart I hate so much, the one inside me that sees nothing and has amnesia.
I went to buy her a gift at the Toys 'r Us, and a Thomas the Train bag, for my wonderful two year old. They will be OK, Mamma will buy you a present.
And when I went to pay, the three ATM cards were missing from my wallet. "You should report it," said the teller. Drama avoidance alarm. I counted my bills, my quarters, my dimes and came up with thirty-four dollars and eighty two cents. I wonder how it came to this.
"I have your cards, you can get them when I see you" said the text message.
I looked down on the concrete in Times Square, sat in those red chairs and made a phone call.
9/15/2010
Now I wonder where this all works. Go back home to my children, to their wondrous flesh so puffy and soft. Their golden eyes and their wonder at me. They feel everything, they say it to the word.
"FUCK" from my two year old's mouth or "fuckin' underwear" from my four year old this morning. As in, "I don't want to wear those fuckin' underwear."
I fell into her comforter, my head fell into this sheet. Hold me up and cradle my head. This can't be where all this wonder ended up.
She said she copied mommy, or he said she "must have copied mommy" and so she repeated "mommy said it when she gets angry".
I wonder how it got to this? "Grab your shoes, not your golden shoes, fine, I'll take you to school."
The hug on 72nd Street, "it's going to be OK, it's going to be OK" and then my heart I hate so much, the one inside me that sees nothing and has amnesia.
I went to buy her a gift at the Toys 'r Us, and a Thomas the Train bag, for my wonderful two year old. They will be OK, Mamma will buy you a present.
And when I went to pay, the three ATM cards were missing from my wallet. "You should report it," said the teller. Drama avoidance alarm. I counted my bills, my quarters, my dimes and came up with thirty-four dollars and eighty two cents. I wonder how it came to this.
"I have your cards, you can get them when I see you" said the text message.
I looked down on the concrete in Times Square, sat in those red chairs and made a phone call.
9/15/2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Rack* ( a 9/11 poem)
*The rack is what they call those wooden poles that stick up from the slip on the Hudson at the Ferry Terminal
When you take a Ferry from Staten Island to New York you see a lamp post sticking up from the water
The Hudson River
There are all these logs
logs
sticking up from the water
old logs
straight up
and you wonder how tall they are
They must go straight down
to the river
straight down and that is very far
since the Battery Tunnel is under the water
And I swam in the river
myself actually in a race
I came in second I was
all green in my petroleum
mouth in wonder at the
buildings from the other side
It was this "I just went into the Mirror, too, Alice"
and here I am swimming on
the tide past my apartment
there's my window
who's home
now?
When the Ferry goes into its'
slip it's all metal and paint
Orange ferry red and
blue apron black and
yellow gate dirty
The cop with the funny teeth and the mate, he's
right there
the Mate
First he was a Seaman and we
had babies now he's a Mate
The obvious line comes next
(we mated)
I love it
the old airport chairs in the Ferry
all lined up in rows and cubbies
Formica bent out of shape
There's an American flag stuck right out there on that slip
among those wooden poles
to commemorate the 11 dead in the ferry crash.
Or as my husband just said "Oh that one? they just stuck it out there cuz they wanted to"
(because they love America)
And there's a flag to commemorate the two thousand five hundred and ninety five dead on Freshkills. You see it in the harbor when you ride the ferry
The tourists look at the Statue of Liberty
I look
at the remains of 9/11 on
Freshkills
Buried out of that empty skyline
It was always called Freshkills, I think its' a Dutch name,
before the 9/11 victims were rested there
I don't want to mention his name, he's above this poem
but I remember you
you lived in
the NYU
faculty family housing buildings
On Laguardia and Bleeker with your mother
A square that was a bit in
from the Garden Grocery store
a square
a plaza with buildings
two squares
a plaza with buildings
We had our first kiss
in Waterside Plaza, or at least we told everyone we did
in eighth grade when
kissing was still a big deal
even though we never actually kissed
we just agreed to tell everyone we did
Your molecules are there I know
I wont say your name
buried and diffused.
And then there are those trees stuck in that pier
those long logs they cut from upstate
Mount Marcy in the Adirondacks
And carried down by train on a flatcar until Albany
And then put into a barge and pushed down
on a McCallister Tug and planted
into the bed of this river on the
tip of this Island.
I climbed Mount Marcy I did with
My father in those three hours he was
strong and I am still climbing it down somewhere
And then I jump into that fresh
pond in front of our lodge
and I taste mossy crisp water
flat on my tongue as I turn to
see your tall frame slide perfectly
into that dive.
Did a man
dive into the Hudson to plant these shaven trees?
Who planted these poles
a hundred years ago? When they dug the
hole, were there
oysters still in the harbor
and Bowery Boys in tunics
diving into the river
on the side
as you worked to get that rig steady
while you
built that slip?
And I wont say the obvious about
how the water must have gotten
ashy on that day with all that
paper and our faces like ghosts
and the Au Bon Pain was the only
thing open on that Monday
when they all went back to work
past those checkpoints
the lines of all those traders
like black mourning ants all funneling
to work on that 630am morning
when it was all still caked
everywhere and nobody could
pull anything out of their throats
except the ash, still on automatic
rage six days later, America
is still trading motherfucker
And I am here with you and
we know and Au Bon Pain is the
only thing open
The one on Water Street
with a yellow light
Except that other golden glow
with white flood lights plaza
I can't look toward that fire
There's ash on my finger and
a rack around my throat
Monday, September 6, 2010
Excerpt from Paolina; Tempest World, a poetic adaptation of the Tempest
this piece was performed at the Whitney Museum ISP in 2002. I put it away and just opened it for the first time in years. I am typing parts I wrote, minus stage directions,minus the Shakespeare, which looses a lot because all characters split to Shakespeare's words throughout the play, except for Prospero. For example, with every Paolina poem is the actual Miranda conversation with her father Prospero or interactions with Caliban and Ferdinand or the storm. Also, there were video walls that projected these figures as well as real time projections of the poet Paolina writing some of these words, as well as ( I know this may sound funny)projections from the film the Matrix, as the Hero archetype was actually Keanu Reeves and then the actual Ferdinand was played by various actors, Ferdinands, until one emerges. This work was a collaboration with Joumana Rizk, who directed it, and manyother video artists and a composers, as the music was original. Because I am just transcribing the Paolina character, it maybe hard to get a feel for the work as a whole, so I invite you to read other posts.
I flow in dazzling lavender
p3 of 29
PAOLINA
I remember I was little
And my mother let me
lick sugar off her nipples
this happened twice I think
PROSPERO
I do not think thou canst, for then thou was not
three years old
MIRANDA
Certainly Sir I can
PROSPERO
By what? By any other house or person?
Of anything the image tell me that
Hath kept thy rememberence
PAOLINA
I don't know
what can I count
Numbers easier than
wordy life
lofty tinges and
lemon lines incisions
Tiny reminders
PAOLINA
Daddy why are you taking the cat Spooky
In her case
Carrying her
In your arm
Don't push the elevatyor button
Dont put your foot outside
don't close the door
dont leave me inside
come back
come
here I am in
front of you
in the hallway
Torna
torna
I see you big in the elevator light
I'm here in the hall
Please dont take her
Don't take Spooky
I'm better than her
I'm here
hear me
Take me
Me
Ow
me
ow
meow
you leave me
alone instead
p6 of 29
PAOLINA
I was told I was a princess
I was told not to be a lamb
that regular people will take things from me
that regular people lie
that regular people will believe anything you tell them
so who's a "regular people"
Titles are like corns under your toes
they need to be kept quiet
tightly strapped under sandals
Spastic colon
Space cadet
Sprinkling snow flakes
Systemic overload
I see so many people with watery eyes
I dont know what to say to them
I dont want to talk anymore
Does my center fade
Defeated
Cords pull hard
over calloused scabs
Taught
tremendously drawn
fore swear forever today
p13
PAOLINA
PAOLINA
PROSPERO
Hag seed hence! Fetch us fuel
And be quick, thou'rt best,
To answer other business.
Shrugst thou, malice?
PART TWO
PAOLINA
I am still holding myself
Alone
Tears flow forever
my kidneys wither
FERDINAND THE HERO
PAOLINA
dreaming in a big white bed
a sea of love flows under me
Away thought away
washed inside this blurry realm
and into slumbers peaceful reign
FERDINAND (voice over)
Rowing
A stroke is all I can do
To strike my hand and cloud all that is empty
Time
Lines and landscapes
cross through me]Charting my
Boat keeping time
To strike my oar
so that the ripple continues
Standards and lapses
For me to be inspired
Not struck down
I watch the arch and jump
PAOLINA
Black Prince Italy awaits you
To cradle you in wind chimes
Ginger and dry anonymous chamomile
PAOLINA(singing)
Grand Old River envelop me in velvet blue
Grand Old River how can I ever feel new
The ages of remorse have carved at my bitter frame
While I have no more
strength to soak up all this rain
FERDINAND
Where should this music be? In the air or in the earth?
PAOLINA
worn are my hands
Arid is my heart
I serve as mere kindling
In Father's eternal spark
FEDINAND
This music crept by me upon the waters
Allaying both their fury and my passion
with its sweet air
PAOLINA
If this twig fell in the blue
The Grand Old River would carry me through
He'd float above the heaviness
Be washed into the cleanliness
(speaking only)
O, River please let him fall
For he is too weak to stand tall
p18
PAOLINA
all I have is Teddy
He's my love since four
He's big eared
He's no neck
He's nice
I like him more than me
When my building explodes I'm only saving him
I don't care if there's fire
I'm running in to it
To get him safe
p21
PAOLINA
my mother
mine
mesmerize me
momentarily
p22
CALIBAN
the rake's combs scratch this islands earth
and sift its fallen leaves
and like our feeble hearts desire
we see these leaves as dreams
Dreams that we remember at this a golden hour
When all the sky gives forth
A veil to cover us in power
PAOLINA
Now that time has passed
and swept away my woes
So I have no more room to pine
for changes to bestow
Resigned am I to heavens wish
As humble as this may be
For like the oceans thick white cream
I float an laugh and beam
PAOLINA
who are you
My eyes burn and throbto feel my heart again
I cant see our face in this visual
Nose thick hair my man
how do I know what's good for me
FERDINAND
I do beseech you
Ciefly that I might set it in my prayers,
What is your name?
MIRANDA
Miranda
p24
PAOLINA
You tickled my curious fancies
in the labyrinth of your gaze
like singing marmots who make
tight delicate incisions inside luscious aloe leaves
p26 FERDINAND and PAOLINA read these at the same time interspersed but not answerring
PAOLINA
Brush my hair
my love
Strand by Strand
Feeling my
warmth sink
I trust that slow
ease
A gentle touch
Over my temple
A smoothing
stroke
Under my nape
An arching caress
through my chord
My love my love
I trust that slow ease
FERDINAND
I want to learn to be beautiful
True love never knew any limits
let's see how delicate we can be
I want to be touched by you gently
Why do you love me
Can I relax into you?
Can I feel safe enough to sleep?
Can I give you my peace of mind?
We lead each other beyond the river
Of fire
First floating on islands of ice
That spin, rock and dwindle away
Melting under us
Tipping over us
Launching us into the falls of truth
p27 of 29
CALIBAN and MIRANDA speak together, she starts after "icey lakes"
CALIBAN
Il vero amore non ha mai conosciuto
misura
show me the fire of tumbling blades
cut me with the cash of green meadows
I love to love your children's fathers
and smooth over the bahs of bleating babes
give me just a moment on the hills cliff
Enough to drop me over the petals of rays
hold me through the clouds
and pulling me over the icy lakes
I can feel the clean air filling me with
strength
I can I am I yes I am courage
And carried beyond beyond
I know you are moving with me
Sideways floating shifts of falling ice
charging under aching bellies
Smash me pieces and blow me coolly
I am now diffused in all things
MIRANDA
Hence bashful cunning!
And prompt e plain and holy
innocence!
I am your wife,if you will marry me,
If not I'll die your maid. To be your
fellow
You, may deny me,; but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.
PAOLINA
I search for God, I search for my face
I have already seen it's outline
Ad now I strive to incarnate myself
Malevich, Essay On Infinity, 1906
PROSPERO
Now all my charms are overthrown
And what strength I have's my own,
Which is most faint.
And in my despair
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
As from crimes would pardoned be
Let your indulgence set me free
VOICES
May the whole world be blessed with peace and harmony
Lokha Samasta Sukhino Bhavantu
p28 of 29
PAOLINA
now I can rest in the light
Only here in my quiet yellow inside
that is kept clean by a purple circle
I am back in my family of waves
the time reliable flow of even measurements
and predictable dispersion
order gliding walls
as heavy as iron
where I can float
lightly without fear
Hi Tempest world
I am Paolina
I am safe now I am the dot
with a purple purpose
the kiss of peace
the egg
and the water cleans
us all
PART ONE
PAOLINAI am holding myself
I keep seeing lights
Robes of yellow
Pink Saris
Orange bodies chasing freedom
Dashing across the fence
scattered for happy life
Paolina hears the sound sudden thunder
I know you are all my voyeurs
I know you see me exposed
I am alienated yes I know
I am self obsessed yes I know
Don't you see how you're all part of my slef pity game
I am now in the process of objectifying myself
I need this like a beggar needs to beg
I have no self
Now I want you all to cry for me you lambs
I'm more sophisticated than you
I'm a princess
The sound of waves is heard
I flow in dazzling lavender
Terrified I will be shot
I am leaving my body
It is not my time to go
Arid rocks
scattered on these manly ridges
Grated by these Aegean cliffs
Fast rushing dry speed
where the horizon line
meets my base demonstrations
me as young and yin
p3 of 29
PAOLINA
I remember I was little
And my mother let me
lick sugar off her nipples
this happened twice I think
PROSPERO
I do not think thou canst, for then thou was not
three years old
MIRANDA
Certainly Sir I can
PROSPERO
By what? By any other house or person?
Of anything the image tell me that
Hath kept thy rememberence
PAOLINA
I don't know
what can I count
Numbers easier than
wordy life
lofty tinges and
lemon lines incisions
Tiny reminders
PAOLINA
Daddy why are you taking the cat Spooky
In her case
Carrying her
In your arm
Don't push the elevatyor button
Dont put your foot outside
don't close the door
dont leave me inside
come back
come
here I am in
front of you
in the hallway
Torna
torna
I see you big in the elevator light
I'm here in the hall
Please dont take her
Don't take Spooky
I'm better than her
I'm here
hear me
Take me
Me
Ow
me
ow
meow
you leave me
alone instead
p6 of 29
PAOLINA
I was told I was a princess
I was told not to be a lamb
that regular people will take things from me
that regular people lie
that regular people will believe anything you tell them
so who's a "regular people"
Titles are like corns under your toes
they need to be kept quiet
tightly strapped under sandals
Spastic colon
Space cadet
Sprinkling snow flakes
Systemic overload
I see so many people with watery eyes
I dont know what to say to them
I dont want to talk anymore
Does my center fade
Defeated
Cords pull hard
over calloused scabs
Taught
tremendously drawn
fore swear forever today
p7of 29
MIRANDA
and now I pray you sir
For tis still beating in my mind, your reason
For raising me in this sea storm?
PROSPERO
Here cease more questions
Thou art inclined to sleep
PAOLINA
You tell me not to laugh
to resist the tickling feeling
Your fuzzy chest hair on my face
PROSPERO
Tis a good dullness
PAOLINA
The shudder of warmth grows over me
My toes my stomach
Inside everywhere
Bursts of light I hold it in
I don't laugh
PROSPERO
Give it way
PAOLINA
I dont laugh
No noise
The jooy inside me
Remains tight lipped and silent
Like you told me
PROSPERO
I know that thou canst choose
PAOLINA
cold fire burns upward
Rings surround my heart
My throut dries black
Deep emptiness
Vacancy unfulfilled
I will not speak again
I refuse to step up to the mark
p13
PAOLINA
smile for slime
Money slime
green yellow ooze between your pants slime
smile and take the money honey
Just don't be a hysterical bitch on wheels
porcupines and baby lions are best friends
no one wants to touch them or play with them
because they have sharp spines and teeth
But their pointy pricks
Pluck only those pilfering pundits who prey on their pure hearts
Everyone else is safe
Slurpy and smells sumptuously
So Soft Silly Billy
Let's play
PROSPERO
Hag seed hence! Fetch us fuel
And be quick, thou'rt best,
To answer other business.
Shrugst thou, malice?
PART TWO
PAOLINA
I am still holding myself
Alone
Tears flow forever
my kidneys wither
FERDINAND THE HERO
PAOLINA
dreaming in a big white bed
a sea of love flows under me
Away thought away
washed inside this blurry realm
and into slumbers peaceful reign
FERDINAND (voice over)
Rowing
A stroke is all I can do
To strike my hand and cloud all that is empty
Time
Lines and landscapes
cross through me]Charting my
Boat keeping time
To strike my oar
so that the ripple continues
Standards and lapses
For me to be inspired
Not struck down
I watch the arch and jump
PAOLINA
Black Prince Italy awaits you
To cradle you in wind chimes
Ginger and dry anonymous chamomile
PAOLINA(singing)
Grand Old River envelop me in velvet blue
Grand Old River how can I ever feel new
The ages of remorse have carved at my bitter frame
While I have no more
strength to soak up all this rain
FERDINAND
Where should this music be? In the air or in the earth?
PAOLINA
worn are my hands
Arid is my heart
I serve as mere kindling
In Father's eternal spark
FEDINAND
This music crept by me upon the waters
Allaying both their fury and my passion
with its sweet air
PAOLINA
If this twig fell in the blue
The Grand Old River would carry me through
He'd float above the heaviness
Be washed into the cleanliness
(speaking only)
O, River please let him fall
For he is too weak to stand tall
p18
PAOLINA
all I have is Teddy
He's my love since four
He's big eared
He's no neck
He's nice
I like him more than me
When my building explodes I'm only saving him
I don't care if there's fire
I'm running in to it
To get him safe
p21
PAOLINA
my mother
mine
mesmerize me
momentarily
p22
CALIBAN
the rake's combs scratch this islands earth
and sift its fallen leaves
and like our feeble hearts desire
we see these leaves as dreams
Dreams that we remember at this a golden hour
When all the sky gives forth
A veil to cover us in power
PAOLINA
Now that time has passed
and swept away my woes
So I have no more room to pine
for changes to bestow
Resigned am I to heavens wish
As humble as this may be
For like the oceans thick white cream
I float an laugh and beam
PAOLINA
who are you
My eyes burn and throbto feel my heart again
I cant see our face in this visual
Nose thick hair my man
how do I know what's good for me
FERDINAND
I do beseech you
Ciefly that I might set it in my prayers,
What is your name?
MIRANDA
Miranda
p24
PAOLINA
You tickled my curious fancies
in the labyrinth of your gaze
like singing marmots who make
tight delicate incisions inside luscious aloe leaves
p26 FERDINAND and PAOLINA read these at the same time interspersed but not answerring
PAOLINA
Brush my hair
my love
Strand by Strand
Feeling my
warmth sink
I trust that slow
ease
A gentle touch
Over my temple
A smoothing
stroke
Under my nape
An arching caress
through my chord
My love my love
I trust that slow ease
FERDINAND
I want to learn to be beautiful
True love never knew any limits
let's see how delicate we can be
I want to be touched by you gently
Why do you love me
Can I relax into you?
Can I feel safe enough to sleep?
Can I give you my peace of mind?
We lead each other beyond the river
Of fire
First floating on islands of ice
That spin, rock and dwindle away
Melting under us
Tipping over us
Launching us into the falls of truth
p27 of 29
CALIBAN and MIRANDA speak together, she starts after "icey lakes"
CALIBAN
Il vero amore non ha mai conosciuto
misura
show me the fire of tumbling blades
cut me with the cash of green meadows
I love to love your children's fathers
and smooth over the bahs of bleating babes
give me just a moment on the hills cliff
Enough to drop me over the petals of rays
hold me through the clouds
and pulling me over the icy lakes
I can feel the clean air filling me with
strength
I can I am I yes I am courage
And carried beyond beyond
I know you are moving with me
Sideways floating shifts of falling ice
charging under aching bellies
Smash me pieces and blow me coolly
I am now diffused in all things
MIRANDA
Hence bashful cunning!
And prompt e plain and holy
innocence!
I am your wife,if you will marry me,
If not I'll die your maid. To be your
fellow
You, may deny me,; but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.
PAOLINA
I search for God, I search for my face
I have already seen it's outline
Ad now I strive to incarnate myself
Malevich, Essay On Infinity, 1906
PROSPERO
Now all my charms are overthrown
And what strength I have's my own,
Which is most faint.
And in my despair
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
As from crimes would pardoned be
Let your indulgence set me free
VOICES
May the whole world be blessed with peace and harmony
Lokha Samasta Sukhino Bhavantu
p28 of 29
PAOLINA
now I can rest in the light
Only here in my quiet yellow inside
that is kept clean by a purple circle
I am back in my family of waves
the time reliable flow of even measurements
and predictable dispersion
order gliding walls
as heavy as iron
where I can float
lightly without fear
Hi Tempest world
I am Paolina
I am safe now I am the dot
with a purple purpose
the kiss of peace
the egg
and the water cleans
us all
Saturday, September 4, 2010
A Poem written within the Haunted show at the Guggenhiem
A list of my favorite ten works in the Haunted show at the Guggenhiem and a ghost poem within it
1 Tacita Dean, Merce Cunningham preforms stillness (in 3 movements) to John Cage's composition 4'3" with Trevor Carleson, NYC, 28 April, 2007 (6 performances; 6 films), 2008 (Love)
2 Anthony Giocolea, Nail Biter, 2004 video 2'44" (gag)
3 Andy Warhol, Orange Disaster #5, 1963 (silence)
4 Felix Gonzales Torres, Untitled Sand, 1993/1994 (walk with me)
5 Idris Khan, Hommage to Bernd Becher, 2007 (In my dreams)
6 Robert Smithson, Yucatan Mirror Displacements (1-9), 1969 (time stops)
7 Gillean Wearing, Self Portrait at Three Years Old, 2004 ( I see your eyes)
8 Annette Messenger, My Vows, 1990 (and your skin)
9 An-My Le, Small Wars (Special Operations Forces), 1999-2002 (Wars don't happen)
10 Hiroshi Sugimoto, Mediterranian, La Ciotat, 1999-2002 (at infinity)
1 Tacita Dean, Merce Cunningham preforms stillness (in 3 movements) to John Cage's composition 4'3" with Trevor Carleson, NYC, 28 April, 2007 (6 performances; 6 films), 2008 (Love)
2 Anthony Giocolea, Nail Biter, 2004 video 2'44" (gag)
3 Andy Warhol, Orange Disaster #5, 1963 (silence)
4 Felix Gonzales Torres, Untitled Sand, 1993/1994 (walk with me)
5 Idris Khan, Hommage to Bernd Becher, 2007 (In my dreams)
6 Robert Smithson, Yucatan Mirror Displacements (1-9), 1969 (time stops)
7 Gillean Wearing, Self Portrait at Three Years Old, 2004 ( I see your eyes)
8 Annette Messenger, My Vows, 1990 (and your skin)
9 An-My Le, Small Wars (Special Operations Forces), 1999-2002 (Wars don't happen)
10 Hiroshi Sugimoto, Mediterranian, La Ciotat, 1999-2002 (at infinity)
Haunted
ghost poem
Love
gag
silence
walk with me
In my dreams
(time stops)
I see your eyes
and your skin
Wars don't happen
at infinity
Friday, September 3, 2010
After Odelon Redon
Today my friends had planned to go off to some dark bar. By friends I mean lunatics, or slightly insane artists and poets. And since drinking is not my thing, I decided not to join them.
So there I was at the train station which looked like the inside of a whale's ribcage, climbing up the stairs, in search of a lady's room. When I turned a sharp corner and found myself in this dark blue room with soft velvet walls. But the dark velvet was all at once water; a brown sandy toned water with magenta sprays. In fact I was being pulled into a tide then held buoyantly under it (Underwater Vision,1889, pastel on paper) Suddenly I felt a large tentacle slip up my back. I shivered and was 'engulped' by this hood like sea creature. Its' zap had sent a charge up my spinal cord. My not-so-hairy neck hairs stood straight up. I was paralyzed.
Then I felt a wooshing of warmth. I was inside an iridescent sac and I was glistening myself. My skin felt all bumpy and stung slightly although it now felt like a dull pressing into my connective tissue. Or a seeping. The weight made me so sleepy I nodded off, until I was awakened by this putrid odd sweet smell. Gagging I felt the walls of a hole closing in around my head, expelling and at the same time choking me. So I did the oddest thing. I tensed my tongue and started twirling it up into the rippled walls, more poking than licking.
I guess I was expelled. Or spit out. (Spider,1887,Lithograph) I cringed my swollen eyes to find I was looking at a giant smiling ten legged spider. A spider with a cat nose mixed with a monkey muzzle under googly eyes. His long legs ambled toward me in a rhythm that matched his wobbly grimace. For some reason this French surrealist film pops into my head and I know my escape is to poke his eye ball with a needle. My palm reaches to the wall behind me, thinking this was still a velvet wall, so maybe it is really also just a pin cushion, there must be a needle in here somewhere I say to myself, as I frantically fiddle for it, moving backwards as evenly as possible. Only to palm a tremendously soft and lovely pearl shaped thing, that in my excitement for pearls, I bring around to see if it really is a pearl, which it is, a magnificent pink vanilla pearl, so I faint.
When I come to, I am being interviewed, or rather "given the once over" by a very piercing lady, in a yellow shall. (The Yellow Shall, 1900, pastel on paper) She seemed to be lost in thought, and it made me very embarrassed, since she would not stop examining me and thinking about, I don't know what. We stayed in this dance for an entire movement, until finally I felt a change of position was allowed. I adjusted my chin, and, there on the side table was this vase with wildflowers. (Wildflower in a Long Stem Vase,1910, Pastel on paper) It was the richest nestling of colors, pungent red and yellow anemones, vivid blue cornflowers and tiny lace white flowers suspended on top of the arrangement. Within the flowers was more darker depths of black pollen and turquoise petals. My spirit was drawn into this bouquet. It pulled me into it, as I imagine death would. Like I was all at once dissipated into tiny little 'me's' and further from my body.
At which point, the guard told me not to press my cheek against the glass, and step away from the art. She spoke English, which surprised me since we were in Paris. But maybe it was because I was a teenager, or she could see it was my first time visiting the Musee D'Orsay, that she made an effort.
Aurelia and Annina
“Annina” she sings, inflecting the middle vowel, imbuing the words with total love and absolute thrill.
She repeats it, “Anneeenah” this time adding charity, with the touch of a kitten.
Again “Annina”, delightfully, opening her whole being, a swinging door into heaven’s hallway
You are on the other line, singing silent.
Maybe on a long distance call
Then you respond with the chime: Cera una volta un gatto che si chiamava Aurelia, e faceva Miao Miao Miao”*
And then the silence of her listening, of your listening, and the idea that maybe since she is too little to converse, this delay is a stunting of words, a lapse, even an awkward pause
But this is completely the wrong idea, because in fact what more is there to be said?
She loves you so much that simply saying Ahneenah transcends speech
Like the ringing of a bell
that swung a thousand years ago
still vibrates inside the bell that forms your ribcage
as your thorax rotates down and up
swinging
love
on your breath
* “Once upon a time there was a cat called Aurelia that said Meeow, Meeow, Meeow”
She repeats it, “Anneeenah” this time adding charity, with the touch of a kitten.
Again “Annina”, delightfully, opening her whole being, a swinging door into heaven’s hallway
You are on the other line, singing silent.
Maybe on a long distance call
Then you respond with the chime: Cera una volta un gatto che si chiamava Aurelia, e faceva Miao Miao Miao”*
And then the silence of her listening, of your listening, and the idea that maybe since she is too little to converse, this delay is a stunting of words, a lapse, even an awkward pause
But this is completely the wrong idea, because in fact what more is there to be said?
She loves you so much that simply saying Ahneenah transcends speech
Like the ringing of a bell
that swung a thousand years ago
still vibrates inside the bell that forms your ribcage
as your thorax rotates down and up
swinging
love
on your breath
* “Once upon a time there was a cat called Aurelia that said Meeow, Meeow, Meeow”
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Savage
The savage is what attracts me. That Jack London Call of the Wild thing. That dog would be me, just in from the wild, made good by a roof over his head. But not tame tame, as in civilian.
That's me if I were a female dog and god knows I am a female dog past ten o'clock. Wrap my bitch body in taught clothes and throw me up against the moist ribcage and see if I growl with my teeth bared.
No sense of security-that alter persona rips through the folds of wellness. Those mind/body bouquets to un-sensitize the ravages of one's DNA. I burst out coldly. Reactive and sharp.
Like the time when I was privy to someone's racism, this casual word that included me or else that sense of I am rich because I can afford a nanny or I can own an apartment I belong in the living room. Like the mother who said she'd be able to eventually get over it if her son were gay- or like the way my mother said I could just go to Tuscany-her house was empty.
What did this mean to me on 14th Street, walking up the subway platform, finding a dollar, reaching down, before I was pushed against from the walkers behind me? I have a dollar. I am free to buy a granola bar. Now I wonder what else that dollar would buy? Not the tight red-jeaned Indian hipster smoking and walking in stride, can he tell I can smell him? Or would the dollar buy me another smile from my father. Or how about a piece of lumber to burn for my own crucifixion. I could burn myself up in the 14 Street chimney pot hole and watch the Savage transcend into some alchemical sexual moist black smoke.
copyright paolinaweber 2010
That's me if I were a female dog and god knows I am a female dog past ten o'clock. Wrap my bitch body in taught clothes and throw me up against the moist ribcage and see if I growl with my teeth bared.
No sense of security-that alter persona rips through the folds of wellness. Those mind/body bouquets to un-sensitize the ravages of one's DNA. I burst out coldly. Reactive and sharp.
Like the time when I was privy to someone's racism, this casual word that included me or else that sense of I am rich because I can afford a nanny or I can own an apartment I belong in the living room. Like the mother who said she'd be able to eventually get over it if her son were gay- or like the way my mother said I could just go to Tuscany-her house was empty.
What did this mean to me on 14th Street, walking up the subway platform, finding a dollar, reaching down, before I was pushed against from the walkers behind me? I have a dollar. I am free to buy a granola bar. Now I wonder what else that dollar would buy? Not the tight red-jeaned Indian hipster smoking and walking in stride, can he tell I can smell him? Or would the dollar buy me another smile from my father. Or how about a piece of lumber to burn for my own crucifixion. I could burn myself up in the 14 Street chimney pot hole and watch the Savage transcend into some alchemical sexual moist black smoke.
copyright paolinaweber 2010
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