the second where everything seems possible.
i've been wondering lately why the answer is always something at least fuzzily related to our vague notions of "liminality" and of space in which to act out. not every venue is freeing, at least most realize the sadness there.
from a letter i received a year ago. i had asked about the whole issue of politicizing art and how appropriate, necessary, vulgar, whatever that seemed to this person. at the time, the response was incredibly satisfying (another response to a question of art and sacrifice was equally interesting-yet-also-appeasing/soothing)
art and politics: oddly, what comes to mind is theory. fuck. Kundera paraphrased- an era ruled hand in hand by the executioner and poet...when politics grip tightly, that is quite normal; but when a poet sings in accompaniment, the whole system of values (arrghhh!) we considered sacrosanct has suddenly been shaken apart. Nothing is certain anymore. things become problematic, questionable, subject of analysis and doubt. Progress and revolution. youth. motherhood. poetry.
the past few days i've also been wondering in the shower about situating totally mean humor. like my sister's, that i acknowledge and sometimes laugh along to...not satire or its brothers.
i'll come back to this when i get a chance.
from a letter i received a year ago. i had asked about the whole issue of politicizing art and how appropriate, necessary, vulgar, whatever that seemed to this person. at the time, the response was incredibly satisfying (another response to a question of art and sacrifice was equally interesting-yet-also-appeasing/soothing)
art and politics: oddly, what comes to mind is theory. fuck. Kundera paraphrased- an era ruled hand in hand by the executioner and poet...when politics grip tightly, that is quite normal; but when a poet sings in accompaniment, the whole system of values (arrghhh!) we considered sacrosanct has suddenly been shaken apart. Nothing is certain anymore. things become problematic, questionable, subject of analysis and doubt. Progress and revolution. youth. motherhood. poetry.
the past few days i've also been wondering in the shower about situating totally mean humor. like my sister's, that i acknowledge and sometimes laugh along to...not satire or its brothers.
i'll come back to this when i get a chance.