Showing posts with label miranda july. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miranda july. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 March 2015

Quote of the Week - July


"All I ever really want to know is how other people are making it through life—where do they put their body, hour by hour, and how do they cope inside of it."


The longer I'm on the planet, the more I appreciate Miranda July.  Such simple questions to ask, with myriad answers. You just can't get stuck for ideas or humanity if you are asking these kinds of questions.

This video was posted to FB by a friend of mine - it contains the same elemental approach as this quote and is very much about the mystery of inhabiting the body. Also, it's beautiful.

NOWHERE (2009) / central scene / for Pina from Dimitris Papaioannou on Vimeo.

Above image from Pina Baush - Tantztheater Wuppertal.


Oh - and it's WOMEN'S HISTORY MONTH! Which means we've got the Women You Should Know series on tap starting tomorrow! Profiles on amazing women coming all month. This year, we even invited men to contribute! If you want to look at previous years, just use the archive menu on the right and go to March 2012, 2013, 2014.

Tuesday, 5 April 2011

5/30 - Erasure Poem Miranda July's "No one belongs here more than you."


No One Belongs Here More Than You: StoriesI've been reading these Miranda July stories.  She is so captivating in this simple, charming way, but the stories are filled with deep melancholy - not at all precious.  I thought it would be interesting to see what would happen with the tone by doing an erasure.









Erasure Poem
Stories by Miranda July
(“The Man on the Stairs”
p. 37)

Leaning banister
Sifting Darkness

The man there breathing
Lo strong creak thrilling
Closer breathtakingly I forget

Care opened pants who cares
He half naked doorway
Darker than bedroom
blind adjust I hear him breathing
right in front of me.

Leaned feel his breath
Smell his good intentions
Women doubt everything
I expelled the powder of doubt
He pulled it into my eyes
I saw a stranger
Staring eyes furious

Away, I whispered.

c. e. amato
4.11