Beyond hey you
this was a fun jam!
I loved all the little titles hanging out and ways people interacted with the space and the material.
Every entry seemed to be looking for something different in their time here than the other entries, which is giving the jam an earthy sort of wet-trail feel for me! I step to and in and through to works and sit and squat beside one, heading over to another for water I filter from and thank and listen to! It's so nice.
Oh, also this thing from 2011:
—
Write About an Empty Birdcage Write about an empty birdcage. As in: write about your ribcage after robbery. Use negative space to wind a song from the place on the dresser where a music box isn’t. Write about the corners where the two of you used to meet. Draw the intersections. Arrow to the side- walk where her shoes aren’t near yours. Write about an empty birdcage. As in: write about a hinged-open jaw that is neither sigh nor scream. Use this to signify EXIT. Be sure to describe the teeth, the glint of metal deep down in the molars, the smell of breath after lack of water. Draw this mouth a thirsty and human portrait of what it means to be used up. Write voice by writing how it feels when it’s painful to swallow. If you must put noise in the scene, make it the sound of bird wings flapping in a cardboard box. Take hope, and fold it small as seed, then suck on it. Slow and selfish. Write about an empty birdcage. Birdcage can read: building, structure. Abandoned, or adorned. As in: loop and tighten a vine of nostalgia around the room you currently brick yourself into. Recreate the sweet of jasmine, but mortar the door so it will not seep through. Write about an empty birdcage. Replay us the scene. As in: she presses her pale cheek against the window, as he turns his pinstriped back, slow and final. Again. She presses her pale cheek against the window, as he turns his pinstriped back, slow and final. Again. She presses her pale cheek against the window, as he turns his pinstriped back, slow and final. Write about an empty birdcage. Write about the hinges. Describe them as dry knuckles. Write how I became a moan.
— Elaina Ellis
Bye!
cw feeling my feelings
cw unhousing
The library here doesn't have a big enough scanner to scan the whole piece i have. So i might take it into pieces and see if the library offers OCR resources. Gosh, if every single-service website could just be a station at the library. Like, sometimes, I want to nap in town. Why are there not sleep pods in the library. You know how much footage i have of library security (not staff, the private security they have here) wake people up and tell them they can't be sleeping. Like, get that human a tanning booth and stop bothering them. You don't even have to craft them into actual micro hotel pods with full amemities plus bed pan. Just the tanning booths. Dont plug them in, just leave them out, and if someine leaves one, turn it on and let it run a cleaning cycle. Look. Its not a lot, right? Its harm reduction, suree. But Í'm looking for scaling laws here, I am not looking for marvel-movie-scale gestures of activism, yep? Just a liitle humble town hall sized squeak.
Sun booths in libraries. Great. Felt my feelings,
I'm gonna go say hi to a bird, now.
👍🐚🌾