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Woman playing a setar in a private home party, Tehran, 2000.
Photo by Abbas
“The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means.”
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven (via soracities)
Once I learned how to write at all, rather than merely floundering, I found that a poem can start virtually anywhere: with a fragment of overheard speech, a headline in the local newspaper, the sight of a child being carried on her father’s shoulders, a fragment of guilt I’ve tried for years to bury. Sometimes I long to capture something I’ve encountered in that gorgeous, ephemeral present-tense of the theater—the turn of an actor’s head, an ingenious use of stage prop, etc. And like so many writers, I find that photographs can be powerful incitements. For the most part, I try to hold off on the ‘about' part for as long as I can. Attending to syntax and stanza form is one of the ways I try to do that. No one needs to hear me ruminate (or worse, hold forth) on something I already think I know. In one of her very early poems, Brenda Hillman wrote something like 'the jetty of my ignorance’ (I’m sure I’m getting that wrong: I seem to remember a walkway of some sort and a large body of water). Jetty, or footbridge, or causeway, the point is this: a certain kind of ignorance is good, even necessary, for the making of a poem. I’m not talking about willful mystification or atmospherics, God forbid, but rather about the momentum of good-faith wanting-to-discover-something. Deferring the 'about’ part is rather like deferring the main clause of a sentence: it stores up energy. All of us carry around enormous repositories of grief and longing and wonder and memory, and these will always make their way into poems. Frontal attack, I’ve found, is rarely the way to unlock them.
Linda Gregerson, from “Short Conversations with Poets: Linda Gregerson” by Jesse Nathan, McSweeney’s (25 July 2022)
Once I learned how to write at all, rather than merely floundering, I found that a poem can start virtually anywhere: with a fragment of overheard speech, a headline in the local newspaper, the sight of a child being carried on her father’s shoulders, a fragment of guilt I’ve tried for years to bury. Sometimes I long to capture something I’ve encountered in that gorgeous, ephemeral present-tense of the theater—the turn of an actor’s head, an ingenious use of stage prop, etc. And like so many writers, I find that photographs can be powerful incitements. For the most part, I try to hold off on the ‘about' part for as long as I can. Attending to syntax and stanza form is one of the ways I try to do that. No one needs to hear me ruminate (or worse, hold forth) on something I already think I know. In one of her very early poems, Brenda Hillman wrote something like 'the jetty of my ignorance’ (I’m sure I’m getting that wrong: I seem to remember a walkway of some sort and a large body of water). Jetty, or footbridge, or causeway, the point is this: a certain kind of ignorance is good, even necessary, for the making of a poem. I’m not talking about willful mystification or atmospherics, God forbid, but rather about the momentum of good-faith wanting-to-discover-something. Deferring the 'about’ part is rather like deferring the main clause of a sentence: it stores up energy. All of us carry around enormous repositories of grief and longing and wonder and memory, and these will always make their way into poems. Frontal attack, I’ve found, is rarely the way to unlock them.
Linda Gregerson, from “Short Conversations with Poets: Linda Gregerson” by Jesse Nathan, McSweeney’s (25 July 2022)
“I have put my soul and trust in flowers. Occult flowers, flowers of premonition.”
— Paul Valéry, tr. by Hilary Corke, from The Collected Works; “The Cemetery,”
Walt Whitman, “The Sleepers”, Leaves of Grass
[Text ID: “Double yourself and receive me darkness, Receive me and my lover too, he will not let me go without him.”]
“(…) people kiss and hold hands and fall in love and fuck and laugh and cry and hurt others and nurse broken hearts and start wars and pull sleeping children out of car seats and shout at each other. If you could harness that energy—that constant, roving hunger—you could do wonders with it. You could push the earth inch by inch through the cosmos until it collided heart-first with the sun.”
— In the Dream House, Carmen Maria Machado (via deformititties)
“ESTRAGON: Don’t touch me! Don’t question me! Don’t speak to me! Stay with me! VLADIMIR: Did I ever leave you? ESTRAGON: You let me go.”
— Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot, 1952 (via megairea)
1. / 2. / 3. p.s. i still love you, jenny han / 4. the social network / 5. / 6. / 7. emma / 8. / 9
[ID:
1. a post by @niqabisinparis that reads “is there anything more bitter than letting go of friends that you thought were your ride or die? coming to terms with the fact that you’re walking down different paths and you’ll be dismembered if you don’t let go of their hand. being true to yourself and your self-worth is something we’re never warned about. no one ever tells you that you’ll spend weeks pondering where it went wrong, what you did wrong, until you come to the somber realization that your time together on this earth might just be over.”
2. a gif from the movie ‘p.s. i still love you’ (2020) showing a close-up of laura jean’s hands holding tight to what seems to be a friendship bracelet. over it is the quote “Gen and I have jung. Part of us will always be tied to one another.”
3. a quote from the book p.s. i still love you by jenny han, which reads “There’s a Korean word my grandma taught me. It’s called jung. It’s a connection between two people that can’t be severed, even when love turns to hate. You still have those old feelings for them; you can’t ever completely shake them loose of you; you will always have tenderness in your heart for them. I think this must be some part of what I feel for Genevieve. Jung is why i can’t hate her. We’re tied.”
4. a gif from the movie ‘the social network’ (2010) showing eduardo slamming mark’s computer onto the table
5. an excerpt from the script of ‘the social network’ (2010) that reads “(beat) I was an Harvard business major. (then to Mark) I was your only friend. You had one friend. (beat)”
6. a post by @friarlucas which reads “one thing i hate about media is how there’s no sort of representation for how badly friendship break ups fuck you up. like there are a million and one films about romantic break ups but i have yet to see a film or a television show that accurately depicts how difficult friendships falling apart can be and how that stuff can really leave you with wounds and behaviors that take ages to heal”
7. a gif from the movie ‘emma’ (2020) showing harriet and emma on the verge of tears
8. a comment from anya taylor-joy about the movie, it reads “There are lots of different little love stories going on, and Autumn and I sat down and really went through all of them, and actually, the breakup with Harriet was so hard to do beacuse Mia and I have been incredibly close friends for a couple of years and then we got to make this film together and so us breaking up as characters really did feel like what a break up between the two of us would look like.”
9. a post by @inkskinned that reads “but you see her on instagram and it was never really said that you guys aren’t friends but one day she stopped answering and you stopped texting and it’s not like the wound is a cavern but it is a diagram of what if in red letters. you want to tell her nice lipstick that’s a good color but the last time you spoke it was stilted and awkward
how do you say goodbye, you know? it’s not an unfriend and block kind of situation. but you watch the people you once loved go on and have a life and you’re outside of it. and it’s bittersweet because of course it’s okay that you’re both thriving. but she used to be who you’d call if you needed to cry. she used to be who’d you’d be binge watching the new series with. you used to be hers, in a way, even if that way wasn’t permanent. and now she’s someone else and so are you and your friendship is clicking heart shapes next to pictures where she smiles next to people you’ve never met. you know where her birthmark is. she knows where you’ve buried your dead.
the poets and the singers and the authors write about romantic love when it ends. but nobody tells you how to get over a friend.”
/end ID]
Blackadder III, Ink and Incapability
“All that exists is beautiful, error as much as truth.”
— Clarice Lispector, from ‘Letters to Hermengardo’, Complete Stories (trans. Katrina Dodson)
it is so sad when friendships end.
Jean-Paul Sartre, The Selected Essays
Self portraits by Bollywood actress and painter Deepti Naval
“The new person you become with that first sip of wine was already there. Look at Pentheus twirling around in a dress, so pleased with his girl-guise he’s almost in tears. Are we to believe this desire is new?”
— Anne Carson, in her translation note to Euripides’ Bakkhai
“Does love always form, like a pearl, around the hardened bits of life?” - Andrew Sean Greer, The Story of a Marriage