THE RUMPUS Project: NYC Writers in Their Environments:
(HERE is Amy's paragraph about her chosen "place.")
Author: Amy Lawless
Space: Casa Magazines, 8th Avenue
“If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you and you'll never learn.”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 I love to see decay and desire, regret, and hope in the eyes of man through my own too-flawed/human eyes. I love to watch the drama unfold upon the page: Who are these people in gossip/trashy magazines? They share my DNA and little else. I am like a foreign exchange student in my own country gazing upon mass media. I grasp at the meaning of the image's capture and barely know these names. Letters arranged become words. Words become names. The arrangement of letters on the page brings me no closer to solving this estrangement. The woman who played a quirky girl on television almost lost a finger. A wealthy child of privilege will now be the wealthy child of divorced parents. This other woman will be legally wed to another human being one day soon on Planet Earth, Milky Way. Who cares???? And yet, the drama splays itself across glorious pages consumed by most/all/many—you might not desire the information described herein but your brain holds it prisoner nonetheless. Who is your god? Do you have one? Is it a character on the wall reflected? If not, maybe your television is not vivid enough. (They’ve done wonderful things with high-definition. Look into it.) I am looking and looking and wanting and searching and I can't find someone to worship anywhere in here. Usually this pursuit makes me more lonely. Everyday I look in the papers and in real life, magazines, the internet, and around New York City. It never goes away. I am terrified, but I can't stop looking. When a face once perfect and preserved and upheld reproduced ad infinitum and meme’d into a sick death (or simply worshipped) turns aged or dies, we collectively reach for the [insert your own personal vice here – ice cream, gossiping, boozing, dick, running, more TV, other ritualized behavior]. Genuflect. Breathe easy now. Turn the corner, refresh the page, unplug, and perhaps even connect to a human here, near, dear, on the corner of IRL and your dinner plate. The decay, the humanity, the flaws, the living together in a sick brew inspire me to write more poems and of course gives me new shit to laugh at 24/7/365. Hit me now/now/now/now/now/now/now/now/now/now/now/
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My notes on this new project:
I'm really psyched about this series… I have collaborated with the wonderful folks at TheRumpus (one of the few legit and inspiring lit blogs left standing,) to shoot a series of NYC writers in "places" which are pertinent in some way to their writing. Each was given a vague request to think on a place in or around NYC that has inspired, facilitated, appeared in or otherwise enabled their writing or process - and it has been a blast to shoot.
We have run the gamut of the NYC literary scene - from non-fiction essayists, to poets to magically-realistic novelists - and we're just getting started. This is the first installment in what will be a regular feature on TheRumpus.net and my blog. The first to be featured is the refreshingly poignant and stunningly candid Amy Lawless. Each writer was asked to submit a paragraph explaining why they chose this location and, said paragraph, (far more eloquent than this one) is included with the photo above.
Please explore more of Amy Lawless's awesome work on her Website, click here on TheRumpus to discover new and fascinating literary shit every day, and check back here soon to see the next post. If you would like to suggest a writer, journalist or poet, click on my profile to email me. Due to time and space constraints, we sadly cannot include everyone, but if you're doing/publishing/reading something fresh and exciting (read: not more ho-hum, thinly-veiled, victim-based, "me-me-me and my sad sad childhood" kind of junk,) then submit names and books, we would love to see.
More will appear on my website soon and in the coming weeks...