1. "Because missing is missing. It’s the same pain for everyone."

    -The Sad Passions, Veronica Gonzalez

     

  2. I laid in my childhood park for 30 min yesterday because the weather is never like this in New York in the summer—cool, dry, summer breeze. I laid down on the grass, wind in my hair, taking a break, and took this photo because it felt so good, was so simple, and I wanted to remember it.


     

  3. Gareth Simms made this playlist of Love Dog songs on Spotify.

     

  4. This week I somehow managed to make a 2 hour and 27 min sound edit for one section (there are 9 sections in total)—SEXUAL POLITICS—of Love Sounds, a 24 hour oral history/soundscape of love in cinema. It was grueling but endlessly satisfying. I love procedural work.

    I sent the edit to my mother last night for feedback. Over Skype this afternoon we discussed how the immaterial trilogy, of which Love Sounds is the final installment, evolved conceptually, thematically, and immaterially—each installment using a new digital (and printed) approach and social media platform. I told my mother that from a young age (when my dream was to make installations, video work, and films) I always knew writing, writing “on the page,” was not enough; was a limiting, narrow, dated, and provincial use of form and content in the 21st century (singular forms in general seem problematic to me at this stage), which is so multi-media. That we have to “write” in more imaginative ways, using new forms.

    My mother, who is the best reader and critic, responded by telling me that by only using audio from movies, by moving away from the retinal arts, by not just writing on the page, by relying only on critical and radical (re)listening, by making the project 24 hours, by using sections as “chapters” in which to work through narratives and constructs above love, sex, gender, mourning, and death, I am in fact rewriting/renewing/reforming the epic novel—the book—where you imagine and think, without looking or seeing.

    Yeah, I said. Why write a novel as an actual book, a book as an actual book, always using printed text? Or why think of texts in such literal ways. Why not write a novel about the world through sound? Using the “sounds” (texts) we’ve already made. Why do we keep doing the same thing in the same ways when we can do something new and different? When there is already so much existing material to wade through, archive, and rework.

    As Goethe put it, “Everything has been thought of before but the difficulty is to think of it again.”

     

  5. My mom gave me a rule the other day about my upcoming one week vacation: not to do any work. To just rest, relax, and enjoy myself. This is very hard for me, but I am going to obey her. I like being told what to do sometimes. I especially like it when my mom tells me what to do because she never does, unsolicited. And maybe because she’s the only person I really trust.

    The etymology of “obey” is:

    late 13c., from Old French obeir “obey, be obedient, do one’s duty” (12c.), from Latin obedire, oboedire “obey, be subject, serve; pay attention to, give ear.”

    To listen.

    One’s duty is also to listen (and not do one’s self-assigned duty sometimes).

    The current project I am working on/not working on, after all, is about the ontology of listening; about “giving ear.”

     

  6. 16 hour days editing sound project.

    Procedural hell which is also like the best rabbit hole to fall into. When working works and so feels endless, in a good way

    I want to come up for air, and light, but there is no air, or light, to come up for

    I am sinking in too many other ways

    Nothing/no one lasts so I make archival work about loss in order to preserve or at least trace

    I make mourning diaries. One after another

     

  7. Post-Fordism, post-modern, post-digital, post-cinematic, post-human

    Post-love

     

  8. "Work your ass off to change the language & dont ever get famous."
    — 

    Bernadette Mayer, “Experiments” (via fscottfitzgerald)

    Exactly

    (via elderlymag)

     

  9. One heart on another.

    agameofme:

    In her entry from March 27, 2012, called “Radical Acts,” Masha Tupitsyn quotes James Baldwin as saying, “I was trying to make a connection between the books I was reading and the life I saw and the life I lived.”

    Always this, in case you haven’t figured it out by now.

    I think that’s…

     


  10. Lolita, 1962


    Feeling of the night. Of the week. Of the summer. Feeling that is not normally my feeling which makes the feeling even worse. I can still see the light for other people just not for myself. There is so much suffering all over the world right now, so much death. And here in New York, in America, with Eric Garner. Sometimes all I feel is precarity. Everything feels so vulnerable. Everyone. Everything could end at any second. Everything does.