To Zehdenick by VW, where my brother and his partner have a wonderful project, a journey into the inner space that 150 years have carved out, Montag, draußen alles ist still … inside, blinds are rustling, people are peering out, perhaps the ones from that other country which as Anna Funder’

between two books, Walter Murch’s and John Lahr’s biography of Joe Orton (about which, here), that is where I’d situate the several poorly chosen and badly put words which reading about Blinklist elicits from me. Not even trying the app (I talk about apps, app being a

Flohmarkt, Boxhagener Platz, to the opera, air-filled bladders, sound baffles around the outside of the hangar-auditiorium, a kite-symbol and bush-symbol, the kite would be chased, its cruciform structure, and bush uprooted (not burst into flame–which’d be more fun), interval, no snaps during show, and into second half, curtain

In 1993 [Robert Longo] made Death Star, consisting of 18,000 rounds of ammunition suspended in a sphere. It evoked the 18,000 American gun casualties the previous year. In 2018, he updated that sculpture, this time using 40,000 bullets – roughly the number of gun casualties in 2017. This

I had a dream the night before we left that Jefe was the word for life. … At the first cab I asked for a set price from the ferry terminal to the airport.$80 said the driver of a taxi van. Too expensive! I said. How much, then? asked the

fucking birds fucking everywhere this springkaka in the pohutakawa like a lawnmower with wingstui in the shit-native near me nownobody knows but I do keruru smoke after sex