You've got to dig to dig it, you dig?
The blackness I am after does not know where Africa is located but can point it out on a map.
It is an interesting project this authenticating African thingy: that is, in order to create a wholeness, a thing unto itself, a purity–one must cross an ocean …
This is a long way to either absurdity,typicality, desperation, or truth, yet even if it is truth,it may not be logical.
Some notes on the Ocean …, Pope.L, 2005
Pope.L Has Never Been More Urgent, Frieze 207, 2019.
Richard Brody wrote an appreciation of David Lynch.
“Many films are called revelatory and visionary, but Lynch’s films seem made to exemplify these terms. He sees what’s kept invisible and reveals what’s kept scrupulously hidden, and his visions shatter veneers of respectability to depict, in fantasy form, unbearable realities.”
Also, Dennis Lim (2015),
“Lynch’s mistrust of words means that his films often resist the expository function and realist tenor of dialogue, relying instead on intricate sound design to evoke what lies beyond language.”
tilt : to move or shift so as to lean or incline
Middle English tulten, tilten to fall over, cause to fall, from Old English *tyltan, *tieltan, akin to Old English tealt unstable, tealtian to totter
“Tilt.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/tilt. Accessed 23 Dec. 2024.
Blue Note. Donald Byrd’s 1973 live recording release in 2022.
We take from life one little share,
And say that this shall be
A space, redeemed from toil and care,
From tears and sadness free.
And, haply, Death unstrings his bow,
And Sorrow stands apart,
And, for a little while, we know
The sunshine of the heart.
Existence seems a summer eve,
Warm, soft, and full of peace;
Our free, unfettered feelings give
The soul its full release.
A moment, then, it takes the power
To call up thoughts that throw
Around that charmed and hallowed hour,
This life’s divinest glow.
But Time, though viewlessly it flies,
And slowly, will not stay;
Alike, through clear and clouded skies,
It cleaves its silent way.
Alike the bitter cup of grief,
Alike the draught of bliss,
Its progress leaves but moment brief
For baffled lips to kiss.
The sparkling draught is dried away,
The hour of rest is gone,
And urgent voices, round us, say,
“Ho, lingerer, hasten on!”
And has the soul, then, only gained,
From this brief time of ease,
A moment’s rest, when overstrained,
One hurried glimpse of peace?
No; while the sun shone kindly o’er us,
And flowers bloomed round our feet, —
While many a bud of joy before us
Unclosed its petals sweet, —
An unseen work within was plying;
Like honey-seeking bee,
From flower to flower, unwearied, flying,
Laboured one faculty, —
Thoughtful for Winter’s future sorrow,
Its gloom and scarcity;
Prescient to-day of want to-morrow,
Toiled quiet Memory.
’Tis she that from each transient pleasure
Extracts a lasting good;
’Tis she that finds, in summer, treasure
To serve for winter’s food.
And when Youth’s summer day is vanished,
And Age brings winter’s stress,
Her stores, with hoarded sweets replenished,
Life’s evening hours will bless.
Winter Stores, Charlotte Brontë
Situationists transform the urban landscape.
Born into each seed
is a small anti-seed
useful in case of some
complete reversal:
a tiny but powerful
kit for adapting it
to the unimaginable.
If we could crack the
fineness of the shell
we’d see the
bundled minuses
stacked as in a safe,
ready for use
if things don’t
go well.
In Case of Complete Reversal, Kay Ryan
Aria Dean argues the difficulty of black flânerie. But wandering may be utopian at levels beyond the utility. Its privilege may be, as des “gestes” artistiques, in the sphere of thought, language, and geography. A privilege that leans on a poetic, une poétique de la Relation : “l’imaginaire de mon lieu est relié à la réalité imaginaire des lieux du monde, et tout inversement.” (Édouard Glissant, Discours Antillais au Tout Monde)
