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Archive for the ‘art & writing’ Category

Is it plagiarism when you plant a rose? Can you deserve applause for botany When all your seeds must fall from other planters’ prose (Not counting the Anon. stalk and Trad. tree)? Should your child bear your surname (or that of your beau), Or every surname in her pedigree? Are you required to staple to [...]

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I. Colorful Pompoms Scattered across the Floor as Installation Art that prodigy’s installation art is such a babble of atoms. it looks like an endless orchestral warm-up with swirls of piccolo and puffs of tuba like confetti on one big dense sheet of sound, standing still with all the potential to make the most unexpected [...]

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Open a rainstick. Pour cement over the rice. Now it’s a rainstuck.

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My bedroom is not poetic. No sun rippling through the window like a third curtain… No curtain at all… Only the beating of a radio tower through the blinds like a sterile heart. No childhood to excavate… Only the accumulation of three blustery years’ clutter, And a wooden box Containing, among other nothings, A letter [...]

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Perhaps I should prepare to be cut down For my blasphemous words. But I never said that I condoned these thoughts; I merely thought them.

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Some coral snakes once found their way under a piano lid; Up the scale and down the scale their scaly bodies slid. From the open strings they bowed a rancid melody. I cannot say what key it was, except the devil’s key. Their minor seconds, clusters, tritones made their own skins crawl. But worst of [...]

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I kicked the wheel. I kicked again, and then the world began to spin. It spun like hell. My raw hand bent to force your firm form to your center. As i pressed, the tough clay rose and water splattered on my clothes. When your grooves scraped and burned my grip, I wrung gray water [...]

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This idea of a talking stick becoming a boy, it’s like a metaphor for art, and it’s the ultimate alchemical transformation. -Jim Dine Source: The Pinocchio Museum

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You are best described by loud, jangling notes over restless percussion. You are full of ambition, more than your place in society or even your abilities can contain. You don’t think anyone understands you; people and their rules want to trip the keen-edged rhythm you exude that most of them envy. But beware – when [...]

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This is the beauty of diary-keeping: I can look at my own handwriting, fresh from the pencil or years later, and read the strokes themselves – this is what I was thinking when I crossed that “t,” and, look at this mess! my hand must have shaken when I wrote these lines. Errant pencil strokes [...]

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