Ceramic League of Miami hosted Lisa Orr, who led the building of and the firing of a Rocket Kiln.
Rocket stoves seems to burn wood quite efficiently and performs without smoke.
Lisa Orr, Rocket Kiln, CLM
AG2024_2100255a
Leah Mandel on Mike Kelley’s Kandors, in Poetry Foundation.
Superman happened upon the bottle city while on assignment for The Daily Planet. Disguised as bumbling, totally normal reporter Clark Kent, he spotted a spaceship, some ten thousand miles from Earth, on which the data-obsessed villain Brainiac was collecting cities to repopulate his own ruined planet. A long panel in Action Comics #242 from July 1958 shows London, Paris, Rome, and New York, all miniaturized, in a row of glass jars. “One after another, the world’s greatest cities become toy villages in bottles!” the accompanying block letters read. Brainiac examines his spoils with giant tweezers that rip through the George Washington Bridge. “Bah! Such primitive structures,” he gripes, holding the Eiffel Tower under a magnifying glass. Determined to stop Brainiac’s scheme, Superman returns to Metropolis and allows his city, with him in it, to be shrunk. Brainiac studies his new acquisition with glee. Tiny as he is, Superman retains his powers and buzzes like a bee out of the bottle. Fleeing Brainiac’s swatter, he hides in an open container—and as he plunks down, suddenly deprived of flight, past futuristic skyscrapers, Superman realizes he’s not alone after all. He’s in Kandor.
All of the cities on Brainiac’s ship are ultimately returned to normal size and put back where they belong—except Kandor. At the end of “The Super-Duel In Space,” Superman tucks the bottle city under his arm, takes it to the North Pole, and places it on a shelf in his Fortress of Solitude.
No matter, Hattie
late, in aqua and ermine, …
[…]… and here
you are: poised, between husbands
and factions, …
[…]No matter, Hattie: It’s a long, beautiful walk
into that flower-smothered standing ovation,
so go on
and make them wait.
Hattie McDaniel Arrives at the Coconut Grove, Rita dove
Studies suggest it’s best
Studies suggest How may I help you officer? is the single most disarming thing to say and not What’s the problem? Studies suggest it’s best the help reply My pleasure and not No problem. Studies suggest it’s best not to mention problem in front of power even to say there is none.
Social Skills Training, Solmaz Sharif
In ancient Greece, theater actors wore masks called prosopon, which, in the most basic sense, means “face.” But the true reach of the word is much broader, for a prosopon is not merely a face but an extension and expression of the essence of a person. Etymologically, it seems to derive from the Greek pros, “to,” “toward,” or “at,” and ?pa, “face” or “eye.” A prosopon, then, is the means by which something is presented outward, to someone else. The Greeks considered a painter’s brush a prosopon, because she uses it to make concrete and visible to others what is interior to herself; a sculptor’s clay, or her mycelium, is a prosopon too.
A Living Requiem, Anahid Nersessian, NYRB.
AG2024_1133727b or an organization
the way in which everyday space is organized …
to be an idealist
18 Years of The Marginalian.
16. Unself. Nothing is more tedious than self-concern — the antipode of wonder.
14. Choose joy.
9. Don’t be afraid to be an idealist.
8. Seek out what magnifies your spirit.
7. “Expect anything worthwhile to take a long time.” This is borrowed from the wise and wonderful Debbie Millman, for it’s hard to better capture something so fundamental yet so impatiently overlooked in our culture of immediacy. The myth of the overnight success is just that — a myth — as well as a reminder that our present definition of success needs serious retuning. The flower doesn’t go from bud to blossom in one spritely burst and yet, as a culture, we’re disinterested in the tedium of the blossoming. But that’s where all the real magic unfolds in the making of one’s character and destiny.
I might have chose well.
We are nothing, let us be everything!
T.J. Clark on Fanon via Adam Shatz’s The Rebel’s Clinic: The Revolutionary Lives of Frantz Fanon, in LRB.
Fanon’s prose defies translation: even his titles are obscure. Les Damnés de la terre doesn’t mean The Wretched of the Earth. Not really. Not unless you know what ‘la terre’ signifies to the French (too much, alas) and where the whole phrase fits in the history of class struggle:
Debout! les damnés de la terre
Debout! les forçats de la faim
La raison tonne en son cratère,
C’est l’éruption de la fin.
Du passé faisons table rase
Foule esclave, debout! debout!
Le monde va changer de base
Nous ne sommes rien, soyons tout!Arise! Damned of the earth
Arise! Prisoners of hunger
Reason thunders in its crater
It is the eruption of the end.
Let’s make a tabula rasa of the past
Slave crowd, arise! arise!
The world is going to change its basis
We are nothing, let us be everything!
How the British and Americans have struggled with Eugène Pottier’s great hymn. All those imperative exclamation marks!
The International, Pottier.
AG2022_2110701a or cultivation of contemplation
Contemplation is crucial for art, philosophy, and politics. It gives one the thinking space to parse out what matters and to discover unexpected connections. It gives thought time to mature. Many philosophers, poets, mathematicians, and scientists have been ardent walkers. Han also notes how contemplative repose can lead to a deep sleep of fecund dreams, another possible source of inspiration or insight. While most philosophers champion a vigilant wakefulness against numb, oblivious slumber, Han is one of the few who champion the generativity of restful sleep. He juxtaposes such sleep against an anxious, restless insomnia on the one hand and an instrumentalized “power nap” on the other, both of which are common in achievement-cum-burnout society and neither of which allows for a deep visit to the “true internal world” of dreams. Han turns to Marcel Proust, who meditates on how both dreams and waking contemplation allow unbidden memories to resurface in epiphanic fashion. Such sleep, like profound boredom, is a state of deep relaxation ready to receive such gifts. Contemplative silence, Han holds, “enables us to say something unheard of.” In contrast with frenetic activity in which one continually reacts, contemplation prepares one to act decisively.
[…]
Han’s brief discussions of a “politics of inactivity” in Vita Contemplativa will likely deepen this frustration rather than dispel it. But Han leaves little doubt in his concern for societal problems and democracy that he is not politically quietist and that he thinks the cultivation of contemplation can be politically transformative. This cultivation is meant to be countercultural, clearing new space and opening a new sense of possibilities, in individual lives but also in communities both small and large.
Byung-Chul Han: Vita Contemplativa by Steven Knepper, Mousse 89.