
Sylvie De Meerleer – Floating Orgasm (2016?)
Ever has it been
that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
–Khalil Gibran

Sylvie De Meerleer – Floating Orgasm (2016?)
Ever has it been
that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
–Khalil Gibran
You were made and set here to give voice to this, your own astonishment. “The most demanding part of living a lifetime as an artist is the strict discipline of forcing oneself to work steadfastly along the nerve of one’s own most intimate sensitivity.” Anne Truitt, the sculptor, said this. Thoreau said it another way: know your own bone. “Pursue, keep up with, circle round and round your life… Know your own bone: gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it, and gnaw at it still.” Write as if you were dying. At the same time, assume you write for an audience consisting solely of terminal patients. That is, after all, the case.
God occupies me as a shapeless hunger.
Scherezade Siobhan, The Mirror I Won’t
–Margaret Atwood, from Stone Mattress: Nine Wicked Tales; “Lusus Naturae,”

–Margaret Atwood, excerpt from circe/mud poems