Right, so the online magazine I work on is on it’s 8th edition, and the theme this month is LIGHT. 

What I did for it:

  • The Poster, which has the names of all our lovely and talented contributors and editors.
  • ISSUE had an unofficial bookclub in a manicured residential park, because we couldn’t afford the flight tickets to get to the Pacific Crest Trail, which is the focus of Cheryl Strayed’s journey in her memoir “Wild: A Journey From Lost to Found”. We kidnapped our other co-editor, brought along a camera and some recording equipment and then I spliced it all together on iMovie. It was crazy fun to shoot, and also a really meaty book to discuss - so I hope you at least enjoy our efforts if you don’t feel compelled to read the book (you should, tho!) Watch it here.
  • We got a fantastic email from Toronto artist Joshua Vettivelu (ISSUE: Bringing People Together) and we interviewed him about art, and featured his amazingly articulate and thoughtful answers alongside some of his gorgeous cut drawings. Read it here.

Big month! (Hopefully) big year! I’m excited for it, and hope to get more and more awesome people on board. Our next theme is TRASH, and the deadline is January 31st. Find out how to contribute here

PS: That’s our sub-editor Syaz hiding behind that copy of Wild!

Jim Fahey by Eileen Myles

mysterysmudgesextra:

I’m deep into The Importance of Being Iceland, a collection of travel essays in art, all by EM herself. I got it in September, but I only started reading it in early October. I have dog-eared a lot of pages, and tumbl’d a lot of quotes. This book is resonating with me, in significant ways, and often. Here are excerpts that really hit me, from an essay she wrote about going to therapy. Jim Fahey is the name of her therapist. 

I had a job, but I didn’t have enough money for say a hundred dollars a week. I needed a cheap shrink. The whole thing was beyond me, but I really was in trouble and was willing to pay somebody to be on my side. That was how I felt about it. Everyone was either Jewish or middle-class in new York and they all had shrinks. So I was going into the inside room in the world that I knew. It was not church, it was not God. I was pretending there was an inside of me, and it could be found in a room in the world. (page 256) 

I had amazing moments with him [Fahey]. I remember the morning, honey coloured, the room got mellow and deep when he asked me Eileen can you tell me any time in your life when you did feel safe. It was like a thunderclap. Before my father died. It was like my life folded. I did have an inside. I just hadn’t been in it for most of my life. I had a home. It was gone. It was devastating. (page 257)

I was doing a performance and I invited him. I didn’t know if it was right. but I did. And there I was performing and looking down I saw Jim and I’m not sure it was a good feeling. I didn’t know if it was right. And when we talked about it he told me that after I performed I looked at the audience and I smiled, but it was an uncomfortable smile. Not open, maybe kind of false. I think I smiled in response to that and he said like that. I felt like I knew what he was talking about but I didn’t need to have him tell me about how creepy I was. I mean it was already hard to have this kind of dry heart, or feel you looked that way, like a hard window. (page 258)

viafrank:

I created a PDF of The Gullet series for printing and keeping. You can download it here. I’ve been meaning to do this for a bit: this should be the best way to read and enjoy. (Much easier than on the silly blog, that is.) Go! Download! Here are a few ideas of what you can do with it:
Print it out and fold 13 different kinds of paper airplanes. Race them against one another, then report back with the results.
Print it and give it to a friend. When they ask what it is, reply “I do not know. Some guy on the internet told me to do this.” If you can shift your eyes back and forth suspiciously like a llama, now would be the time to do so.
Watch the head of the printer go back and forth. Swat at it like a cat.
Crumple up all the pages you printed, then strategically place them in the middle of your cubicle, saying it is an art installation about the futility and elusiveness of good ideas.
Make a paper boat and a pirate hat. Sit on the carpet, wearing your scarf and bandeau, and curse your coworkers as they walk by, calling them “scallywags” or “vagrants.”
Print then immediately place in the recycling bin. Say it is a “new and urgent” form of criticism.
Pull out your paper shredder. Print the PDF, then shred. Kitty litter. Have your cat say it is a “new and urgent” form of “criticism.”
Print it out and read it.

viafrank:

I created a PDF of The Gullet series for printing and keeping. You can download it here. I’ve been meaning to do this for a bit: this should be the best way to read and enjoy. (Much easier than on the silly blog, that is.) Go! Download! Here are a few ideas of what you can do with it:

  • Print it out and fold 13 different kinds of paper airplanes. Race them against one another, then report back with the results.
  • Print it and give it to a friend. When they ask what it is, reply “I do not know. Some guy on the internet told me to do this.” If you can shift your eyes back and forth suspiciously like a llama, now would be the time to do so.
  • Watch the head of the printer go back and forth. Swat at it like a cat.
  • Crumple up all the pages you printed, then strategically place them in the middle of your cubicle, saying it is an art installation about the futility and elusiveness of good ideas.
  • Make a paper boat and a pirate hat. Sit on the carpet, wearing your scarf and bandeau, and curse your coworkers as they walk by, calling them “scallywags” or “vagrants.”
  • Print then immediately place in the recycling bin. Say it is a “new and urgent” form of criticism.
  • Pull out your paper shredder. Print the PDF, then shred. Kitty litter. Have your cat say it is a “new and urgent” form of “criticism.”
  • Print it out and read it.

Reblogged from viafrank-deactivated20120702

Yet who reads to bring about an end, however desirable? Are there not some pursuits that we practice because they are good in themselves, and some pleasures that are final? And is not this among them? I have sometimes dreamt, at least, that when the Day of Judgment dawns and the great conquerors and lawyers and statesmen come to receive their rewards - their crowns, their laurels, their names carved indelibly upon imperishable marble - the Almighty will turn to Peter and will say, not without a certain envy when He sees us coming with our books under our arms, “Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them here. They have loved reading.”
Virginia Woolf, How Should One Read a Book?