“… At such a moment, most of them became whole and complete to the point of being cinematic, speaking with a sense of drama, intuitively aware that an unequal relationship creates a stage that demands theatre.”
– The Story of my Assassins, (Melville House edn., 2012, p.36)
Memory fades, memory adjusts, memory conforms to what we think we remember.
I’m thinking now of erasure. That way that you can disappear from someone’s world even though you’ve just met them.
I often felt like this. Invisible and ghostlike. That great passions, intimate dreams and rare inspiration can so quickly evaporate in morning light. This last time reduced to a text message.
I’ve evaporated. Like so much red wine left at the bottom of a glass… Given a week, where angsty recollection, dreamy midnight pauses and the soft stubbornness not to clean the glasses and clear the table leave that time spent together a rippled dry plum red at the bottom of a glass.
Blood. Dead and dried, two metres away clinging to glass like the memory; but when approached still have the scent of that initial romance. Still, in it’s deadness when breathed recall that rarer time.
I have five poems.
But I know from too much experience that any effort to recall this time- To fix it in words, is its end. That drawing a mask from the feminine mystique constitutes a definitive symbolic violence– driving real love away with a symbolic replacement. Is it too much to turn a real moment into forms? Or is it never enough?
Those of you who know me might know that i have an unnatural attachment to mixtapes, whatever form they turn up in. Here is a find. I stumbled across this playlist rolled together by a guy(girl?) that calls him(her?)self ‘Datasuck‘ … I love being rewarded when I click blithely around, and the serendipity of this little find endears me to it all the more: The only reason I wound up discovering their cute sense of humour, and delicious sonic tastes was that it included what is now my favourite track from the new Smashing Pumpkins album.
This mix is wonderfully put together, passing through cute almost self effacing almost 8bit, through a driving polished house remix’, then reaching a sad creshendo in the final few tracks, finising on that new SP favourite of mine. I has left me simultaneously elated and nostalgic.
I don’t know if it’s ‘New Wave’, but if it is then it’s definitely more ‘modern’ for all the extra texture there wasnt in 1989.
And I love it.
It’s well timed. For me at least. It’s been a tough couple of weeks for me (or months? or years?) so it’s particularly pleasing to be reminded, right now, of how I adore the witching hour, and all these dreamy droning tones.
I’m wondering if I shouldn’t put up a little listening station with a microfm transmitter somewhere…
Rom: …Then love-devouring death do what he dare;
It is enough I may but call her mine.
Friar: These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
And in the taste confounds the appetite.
Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
– W.S. R & J 2,vii
i flipped on Baz’ version of R&J
and half paid attention
treating it more like background radio
not having a radio here
these words leapt out
for some fairly obvious reasons
and reminded me of every old love
(and one or two)
fire and powder
as they kiss
The second line of final couplet
strikes me as forced
(but i’m probably just resistant)
Dear Facebook automated complaints system,
I’ve had my ability to friend request temporarily suspended.
I believe this to be a systematic error.
IOVI OPTIMO MAXIMO VINDICTA
Revenge for Jupiter, best and greatest.
QUOD LICET IOVI, NON LICET BOVI
that which is permitted to Jupiter, is not permitted to the ox
– Latin Proverbs
I get bombarded with “love and light” messages and posts, particularly on the theme of “forgiving and letting go” of negative experiences, interactions and emotions as the path to happiness. Superficially, that seems like a lovely idea – but does it really work in a practical sense?
– ‘Negative’ emotions and how to use them, Kate Douchkov, Inspire Achive
Too often our laid-back country we are held hostage to the idea that ‘She’ll Be Right’, or a downright English notion that we should just wear a stiff upper lip in the face of our troubles. Inevitably life, or fate, or God, or the great absence of God… Life… laughs at such cliché, and we are all called to face the true depths of our humanity, to question our faith if we even had any to begin with.
In these times, the platitudes offered by common sense, pop-psychology or a pseudo-Christian subservience fail us. Even hurt us. And if they do, they do it a lot.
I approve wholeheartedly of the wisdom in the above-quoted article in this regard.
Deep feelings can’t be dealt with so shallowly, they must be met with depth.
We want to make Radio as intimate as a gift, as social as facebook, as mobile as a phone and, as local as a corner store.
We do this by merging the mixtape, mobile and radio in a very low cost, series of very local projects that we call Mixtape µRadio.
We care about our music, and we care about the declining quality of our musical culture, not just in Australia but around the world. We care that our culture and our communities have been slowly rent apart by identity politics, and the commercial forces that foment and profit from these divisions.
We believe it all starts with a song, but can end with a mixtape.
The nature of the mixtape is that it is a gift. More than this, it is perhaps the most accessible art form to non-artists that doesn’t involve finger-paint. Everyone has been involved in mixtaping at some point. A Mixtape is this: A CD given to a grandmother by a granddaughter: a brother collecting some songs on a memory stick for his sister; A lover composing an iTunes play-list for an ex with the dreams of winning their object back. A tape you found underneath the seat of a car you havn’t cleaned in years.
The gift of music.
This is our content.
The stuff of real lives.