All posts by kcain


Mughal-e-Azam (1960) featuring Madhubala, song by Lata Mangeshkar

Ask: the hum of branches ringing in the body,
a nervous shimmer, change inside a frequency. Therein
a tone, blood red.
Listen quietly to the storm, until we turn away,
The pattern of the wind twisting, a theory of everything: a rush of heat to the face.

Ask: gravity, radiation, making it visible.
To accept that, is music. Notes from a meeting:
Giving. Is central.
Wanting to ask. Not answer. And the universe expands.
“We thought we could control the night.” And it continues:

From Astroecology by Johannes Heldén
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in Hinduism the ringing of a bell is said to engage all the senses, stimulating the inner ear. the moment the bell rings, the mind is disengaged from thoughts and becomes more receptive.

“heroic dose: the narco-imaginary establishes a circuit, maps an ancient course. The mystique that surrounds the narco-imaginary concerns it’s mystical beginnings; intoxication names the cypher through which mere mortals correspond with the gods.”

a pleasure or a poisoning or a vision of the future.

“what happens when the immediate familiarity of the present overwhelms the ability of the subject to frame his or her experience in language? What happens when “what is” appears to be exactly like what just was. When the “new development” appears to be an exact replica of the old development, relocated? Take a simple reburial, for example, the same old bones.”

bird bones may be hollow, but they are also heavy.

“a map of desire works like discourse; it fails to account for marauders that attack from unmarked territories. To understand it’s terrain you enter; or rather, already inside, you try and find your way out.”

i rely on triangulation and telepathy.

quotes from The Narco-Imaginary by Ramsey Scott

photos by Albert Von Schrenck Notzing

“Although my mind confuses eruption for euphoria and devotion for diaspora, it clearly distinguishes today from tomorrow and yesterday from today. Or does it? Perhaps it blurs yesterday and tomorrow with the present so that life is one extended breath, minced to calendric intervals. Perhaps we are fit to perform only one duty: exhaling. Perhaps in life and in language, one can substitute one word for another word like pouring water from one glass into another. And perhaps I would like to surrogate exhaling for a more fitting dualistic jab: expiring.”

Fish in Exile by Vi Ki Nao

“Like a wind, like a storm, like a fire, like an earthquake, like a mud slide, like a deluge, like a tree falling, a torrent roaring, an ice floe breaking, like a tidal wave, like a shipwreck, like an explosion, like a lid blown off, like a consuming fire, like spreading blight, like a sky darkening, a bridge collapsing, a hole opening. Like a volcano erupting. Surely more than just the actions of people: choosing, yielding, braving, lying, understanding, being right, being deceived, being consistent, being visionary, being reckless, being cruel, being mistaken, being original, being afraid…”

from The Volcano Lover by Susan Sontag


Rhosyn live, 2013

“In other versions I am a doctor or a ghost. Perfect devices: doctors, ghosts, and crows. We can do things other characters can’t, like eat sorrow, un-birth secrets and have theatrical battles with language and god. I was friend, excuse, deus ex machina, joke, symptom, figment, spectre, crutch, toy, phantom, gag, analyst, and babysitter. I was after all ‘the central bird… at every extreme’. I’m a template. I know that, he knows that. A myth to be slipped in. Slip up into…

(I do this, perform some unbound crow stuff, for him. I think he thinks he’s a little bit Stonehenge shamanic, hearing the bird spirit. Fine by me, whatever gets him through.)


Grief is a Thing With Feathers
by Max Porter

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gifts. it’s time for gifts.
and the meaning,
it comes in waves.

agnesmartin

untitled #1, by Agnes Martin

“Hawk. Electricity is humming. You hear it in the mountains and rivers. You see it dance among the seas and stars and glowing around the moon, but in these days the glow is dying. What will be in the darkness that remains… Now the circle is almost complete. Watch and listen to the dream of time and space. It all comes out now, flowing like a river. That which is and is not.”

-Margaret Lanterman Twin Peaks

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a gift of blue woven through gold.

a gift of blue woven through gold.

a gift of blue woven through gold.

agnes2

Friendship, by Agnes Martin

turrell2

“seeing your seeing.. often the eyes will create form when it’s not there…every evening we unfold the light and every morning fold it back to return the blue to the sky. this is the light just passing through just beneath that usually seen. who owns it? you who look, not to be held but known.”

-James Turrell

“she wanted to be like light- a presence but one that spread out in all directions; powerful and immaterial. It’s not grandiose, she’d say. There were advantages to being invisible…”

from Modern Love by Constance De Jong

“Daydream, which is to thought as the nebula is to star, borders on sleep, and is concerned with it as its frontier. An atmosphere inhabited by living transparencies: there’s a beginning of the unknown. But beyond it the Possible opens out, immense.”

from Travailleurs de la Mer by Victor Hugo

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there is a time and a place for falling to pieces.