You've got to dig to dig it, you dig?
Chicle y Polvo, Tunnel Projects.
won’t you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
won’t you celebrate with me, Lucille Clifton
How exquisitely human was the wish for permanent happiness,
after she spoke, the smile that followed made the sun look like a fool.
“Then you’re all mine.” “Oh, yes.”
(TM)
“In this place every true thing is okay.”
“slipped off into his dream of choice.”
Toni Morrison, Paradise
A broad church: secret knowledge and self-mastery at the Poetry Field School, Anahid Nersessian (e-flux)
Central Park. ??
Carol Bove at the Guggenheim.
Travel -travails. ?????
considering the bursts of revolutionary time when profound and unimaginable changes explode, […] we know that when it proceeds from below, the good example of freedom struggles spreads in unpredictable ways.
Change erupted when slaves, drawing on skills and commitments made in the long decades of circumscribed possibilities, withdrew themselves from plantation labor, sometimes by fleeing and sometimes by staying sullenly put.
Change then reverberated across lines of race, gender— as Coffin’s insertion of Sojourner Truth illustrates— and class. How the resulting hydra of liberation movements emerged and how each ran into its own sobering limits, confronting the fragility of alliances, the strength of enemies, and the limitations of friends, structures the final sections of the book.
via Seizing Freedom.
He [Charles Carleton Coffin] then reproduced for readers Gage’s version of [Sojourner] Truth’s speech at Akron, interrupting the chapter’s journalism for nine pages of small type that biographers of Truth analyze to this day in sorting through connections of women’s freedom to abolition.
via David Roediger, Seizing Freedom. (Verso)
sex is less about the will than about the great chain of being that linked humans to the gods and to the stars. Sex was the moment when human beings allowed themselves to sink back into the embrace of a universe into which their own bodies had been ingeniously woven. They would draw on the life-giving energies of a vast world. Sex was the gift of ever-present gods. Like wine, itself the gift of the god Dionysos, sex filled the body with “an immanent divine force, and the wash of its warm energy was experienced as a communion” with the divine.
Rome: Sex & Freedom By Peter Brown. nybooks.com
The critical narrative thus becomes the flip side of the official narrative. It tirelessly shows how the system reproduces itself ad infinitum, absorbing every form of subversion to make it a motor of its own development.
…
To work on forms of working-class emancipation is to encounter the fundamental reality of time as a form of life.
(JC)
A work from 2003 came up in conversation.
The rumbling aliveness of the novel comes, in part, from the friction of these facts: what does it mean, really, to know better? No matter how many years we spend reading, thinking, watching films, somehow, insanely, we still have to live. As the story’s scenes accrue, this collision creates a sense, if not of agency or of power (which is perhaps the stuff of heroes), at least of stamina, the recognition that more and more life, more and more looking at it, can generate its own sort of strength.
Lynn Steger-Strong in New Yorker.