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it's spring!!
"Blue Reach," Helen Frankenthaler
"Upon Reading that Eric Dolphy Transcribed Even the Calls of Certain Species of Birds,"
by John Murillo 
Mitski - First Love / Late Spring
"Some of us cannot indulge in the naval-gazing fantasies of dyed armpit hair, bad dress sense as ironic gesture and period blood art. We need what little social leverage our beauty can offer. Transgression is too often a domestic luxury. It is never read the same across all bodies. Strategically deployed ugliness rings hollow for those who have no choice but to live it. An ugliness that lends us just enough character is just beauty by another name."              The Beautiful Ones 
John Cage: Lecture on Nothing

Even that binary of funny versus serious—it doesn't have anything to do with real life. The other idea that seems important now is that good small actions are good actions. In the face of the Trump election, you feel like you want to do something huge, but the small things that have always sustained society are even more valid. Loving your family and so forth.

Sam Lipsyte interviews George Saunders
We find out the heart only by dismantling what
the heart knows. By redefining the morning,
we find a morning that comes just after darkness.
We can break through marriage into marriage.
By insisting on love we spoil it, get beyond
affection and wade mouth-deep into love.
We must unlearn the constellations to see the stars.
But going back toward childhood will not help.
The village is not better than Pittsburgh.
Only Pittsburgh is more than Pittsburgh.
Rome is better than Rome in the same way the sound
of raccoon tongues licking the inside walls
of the garbage tub is more than the stir
of them in the muck of the garbage. Love is not
enough. We die and are put into the earth forever.
We should insist while there is still time. We must
eat through the wildness of her sweet body already
in our bed to reach the body within the body.
// "Tear it Down" by Jack Gilbert
Las últimas composiciones de Violeta Parra
There is no activism that isn’t full of logistics and resentments and boring details. Commitment to anything larger than your own life often looks mythic in retrospect. But on the ground, it’s all inbox pileup and childcare guilt; it’s a lot of wondering if you’re having the right feelings or the wrong ones, or confusion about which is which. It’s messy and chaotic and imperfect — which isn’t the flaw of it but the glory of it. It trades the perfect for the necessary, for the something, for the beginning and the spark.

"But does nothingness have to be empty, related to white, and, ultimately, be a shrouded representation of whiteness? Are empty spaces really, as John Barry claimed in his “No Show Museum” piece, quoting Marcuse, “places to which we can come, and for a while ‘be free to think about what we are going to do’”?1 Is there really such a thing as no-thingness when you encounter an empty exhibition space? Is nothingness an aesthetic, or can nothingness be foundational for a coming-into-being—a gesture of multiplicity rather than a gesture of absence? Who has access to this space of freedom to think about “what we are going to do”?"
// from Kitchen, by Banana Yoshimoto

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