Journal Sequence #16: TV for a Head [discourse]

Tired of all this noise in language I don’t understand. I try the tongue, even carry it for a while, then realise they were never saying what I thought. Layers deep this symbolism, these insinuations. Playing a game that never existed on my home world. Long for it now. Reach for it with both hands,… Continue reading Journal Sequence #16: TV for a Head [discourse]

Journal Sequence #15: 99% of Him [elixir]

I Images of an upside-down world, where I am not as I appear here but only half. The other, upside-down, half is Holm built from fragments, and together we look like a playing card. Do I need to let him write? Go on, take the pen. Kammarheit. A sticky table in the bar. A pint.… Continue reading Journal Sequence #15: 99% of Him [elixir]

Journal Sequence #10: Desktop Sunshine [Exit]

Self-indulgence is a dirty word, and yet we are expected to know who we are. Is it feminine to write the personal? Tear everything up, Kafka said in his diary. And I hear him loud. Ash takes my head in his hands. He is naked. I see his tattooed arms and his slick hair. He… Continue reading Journal Sequence #10: Desktop Sunshine [Exit]

Sense(making)

“The chief enemy of creativity is good sense.” – Pablo Picasso. I mused on Twitter about having started three books, read half and stopped, even though they were good books. I got this response: “Because you get your fill of style from it and have a good time communicating with that writer and then you… Continue reading Sense(making)

Writing Pareidolia

I’m fascinated by pareidolia. The way we are primed for spotting the familiar in the alien, the meaning in the senseless, the pattern in the random. The way we may or may not see the same things, like faces in froth or ponies in clouds, depending on our subjective experiences and values. Nature’s Rorschach test.… Continue reading Writing Pareidolia

Travelogue #1: Transparent Woman [Early Photographs of the Moon]

I “If you are not able to imagine you will not be able to thrive.” Girija Kaimal But it’s [deep] midnight, and the waters are lapping at the shore. There’s moonlight. Possibly a boat, but no rescue. Calm, but not serene. Infinite, doomful wisdom. Torrential rain and howling wind, I crouch in my hut. I… Continue reading Travelogue #1: Transparent Woman [Early Photographs of the Moon]

Hybrid [Manifesto]

1. Writing about a writer is cliché. 2. Too many novels start with a journey. 3. Dreams and flashbacks are lazy plot devices. 4. Elaborate prose presented as monologue is self-indulgent. 5. Philosophy should be hidden, not overt. 6. So fucking what. 7. You fall out of one overused trope and into another. 8. You… Continue reading Hybrid [Manifesto]

Journal Sequence #3

Hide from the plain in the abstract. Hide from the line in the circle. Follow artistic whims. Portraits of the lost. Rich, lyrical texture. Live on the blade. Be honest with yourself. Who are you trying to please? The return of the muse. Bloodied and sick and raw and reaching. A disgusting attraction. Whatever works.… Continue reading Journal Sequence #3

Butterflies

From some unknown corner of the house, butterflies are emerging. I’ve liberated 4 this week. Frantically they fly towards the light. Meanwhile, I’ve been in a chrysalis of my own. Turned away from the world, writhing in chaos and conflict, evolving privately. Metamorphosing. I’m reading Perdido Street Station by China Miéville (at long last –… Continue reading Butterflies

Journal Sequence #1

In my blanket fort. If I go out there, I’ll have to be a person. Being a person now means being a machine, conforming to defined boundaries of behavior. My state is altered. Stretched beyond. Somewhat Ballardian. Climate, extreme heat. Jungian figures. A gradual falling apart. Becoming part of a world that will destroy us.… Continue reading Journal Sequence #1