Monthly Archives: December 2012

it’s snowing like it’s halloween

no cigarettes for over a month!!  (except for all night dancing in brooklyn, but we won’t talk about that.)  i think if i only steal smokes when i’m out it will be okay.  i guess it helps to never go out anymore.  well falalalala..la..la..la..la happy birthday to me.

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la maison de mon reve

 momasita bonita in gingham.  bonita petronzio is a fancy name to live up to.

 before they had me

 i remember always looking at the boy with the scarf in that picture when i was little

and i remember that lanky mouse with the sweet serious face and long legs

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i could look at these all night

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grandmere et grandpere maison

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don’t listen to the other side

i just reread about an hour ago this cortazar quote which doesn’t make a lot of sense out of context (or in context, logically at least), but which i wrote down on a scrap of paper years and years ago and instantly on reading it felt the same way i felt the first time i’d read it which was just all electric and like i heard its words all on the other side and it says ”something like, be careful when you jump, or it’s full of broken glass up here, can’t you see it shining?’ b had left me a lil note earlier in the week on a scrap of cardboard which warned ‘don’t listen to the other side..’  but i didn’t listen to that don’t listen.

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the inner ear and the stalking of certain exits

in julio cortazar’s interview with lucille kerr etc., he mentions hearing things with ‘that inner ear that is at work in writing,’  and he states:

Lorca (I am quoting from memory) defined
himself as “a wounded pulse that stalks things from
the other side.” That other side of things, those soft
clocks in the time of man, those stone clouds of
Magritte, those nude girls in the railroad stations
of Paul Delvaux-and the Snark, don’t forget the
Snark that turned out in the end to be a Boojum:
there you have a synthesis of the attitude that leads
me to write within a perspective of total fracturing
of what is conventional, what is fixed, always looking
for certain doors and, above all, certain exits. p. 39 Diacritics

reading this interview is making me want to write all night.  now that i have stolen t’s password for the college’s online criticism for teachers i will be unstoppable heh..it’s actually sort of freaky how much i missed reading this crap from back when i was still a student..looking into graduate programs with a, which are really just a joke and waste of money, but so’s everything anyway..do i really need to pay someone to give me a formal excuse to spend more time writing, though?  maybe i wouldn’t feel so guilty about it if i didn’t lose whole days in the process, and have to make up excuses for work as to where i went..

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my hot momma

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my pretty polonette

i am rereading cortazar’s a manual for manuel, to get reacquainted with my ludmilla character.  these are some reasons why i love her:  for her deep green eyes, for the way she says bloop whenever she wants to ‘mentally cross over to the opposite sidewalk-and try to catch her’ p. 7, for her crazy way of seeing anything at all, and her seeming right to violate all chronology..p. 10

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aurochs and all of the underwater

the aurochs in ‘beasts of the southern wild’ made me think of nabokov’s ‘aurochs and angels’ line, and i love the way she says something like ‘strong animals can tell when your heart is weak,’ shows them running after her running.  i loved this movie, even though it seemed set on a premeditated plight to bathe its viewers in emotion and empathy.

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