Meeka Walsh’s introductory essay to Issue 133: we are monsters.
Growing up in Canada, I was quietly startled by the intake of breath when I would say the word “evil” to describe someone I knew. I didn’t use the term often, I assigned it carefully but I recognized its application was something that just wasn’t done and I kept the descriptive designation to myself. It’s different now. The term is broadly used to describe countless actions and the designation is received without accompanying questions… Keep Reading
Carolee Schneemann’s Body of Letters
Meeka Walsh’s introductory essay to Issue 134, the all women issue.
Paper covers rock, scissors cuts paper, rock smashes scissors, paper covers rock. A letter is just paper, and so very much more. Keep Reading
Imre Kertész’s memoir, Dossier K Keep Reading
The state of dreaming, the carrier for obscure content whose meaning and full description eludes us, the event of it, the gap we seek to close without ever intending to, that particular sensation is much desired. An indrawn breath away, a substance heavier and solider than air, an etheric suspension so endlessly sought after its label should caution, “opiate.” This space we can and can’t achieve is always individual; collective dreaming, and longing is something more akin to propaganda and is manufactured. What I’m meaning to describe is personal. Keep Reading
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