Don't tell me you understand because you get sad sometimes.
Don't tell me you're an insomniac because you missed a few nights of sleep.
Don't tell me you have an eating disorder because you missed a meal.
Don't tell me you're bipolar because you get mood swings on your period.
Don't tell me you have anxiety because you got nervous before an exam.
Don't tell me you have ADHD because you're hyper sometimes
Don't tell me you're a schizo because you sometimes she shadows and hear sounds and night.
Every rejection letter starts something like this: ”Dear Ms. Jones, I am sorry to tell you that we are unable to offer you a fellowship/residency/admissions/whatever.” Then there is a statement like this, “We received a GAZILLION submissions from qualified applicants but we were only able…
Moorish Girl Lying on a Couch by Edwin Lord Weeks
It sounds like you're saying that literary "talent" doesn't inoculate a writer—especially a male writer—from making gross, false misjudgments about gender. You'd think being a great writer would give you empathy and the ability to understand people who are unlike you—whether we're talking about gender or another category. But that doesn't seem to be the case.
I think that unless you are actively, consciously working against the gravitational pull of the culture, you will predictably, thematically, create these sort of fucked-up representations. Without fail. The only way not to do them is to admit to yourself [that] you're fucked up, admit to yourself that you're not good at this shit, and to be conscious in the way that you create these characters. It's so funny what people call inspiration. I have so many young writers who're like, "Well I was inspired. This was my story." And I'm like, "OK. Sir, your inspiration for your stories is like every other male's inspiration for their stories: that the female is only in there to provide sexual service." There comes a time when this mythical inspiration is exposed for doing exactly what it's truthfully doing: to underscore and reinforce cultural structures, or I'd say, cultural asymmetry.
“Nothing is worth more than laughter. It is strength to laugh and to abandon oneself, to be light.”
- Frida Kahlo
I want to stand as close to the edge without going over. so i see all the kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” - Kurt Vonnegut
The mountains are calling and I must go. 🗻🌲
Just finished this commissioned piece for, @Sevenly CEO, @dalepartridge.
I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus
With tigery stripes, and a face on it
Round as the moon, to stare up.
I want to be looking at them when they come
Picking among the dumb minerals, the roots.
I see them already; the pale, star-distance faces.
Now they are nothing, they are not even babies.
I imagine them without fathers or mothers, like the first gods.
They will wonder if I was important.
I should sugar and preserve my days like fruit!
My mirror is clouding over—
A few more breaths, and it will reflect nothing at all.
The flowers and the faces whiten to a sheet.
I do not trust the spirit. It escapes like steam
In dreams, through mouth-hole or eye-hole. I can’t stop it.
One day it won’t come back. Things aren’t like that.
They stay. their little particular lusters
Warmed by much handling. They almost purr.
When the soles of my feet grow cold,
The blue eye of my turquoise will comfort me.
Let me have my copper cooking pots, let my rouge pots
Bloom about me like night flowers, with a good smell.
They will roll me up in bandages, they will store my heart
Under my feet in a neat parcel.
I shall hardly know myself. It will be dark,
And the shine of these small things sweeter than the face of Ishtar