Should I need to gallop over dark waters to you on short notice

[sovay]

I dreamed of running around a devastated forest with a backpack of videocassettes, which I guess is how my brain interpreted the imminent 'Thon. Have some stray links.

1. Celebrating Annie Glenn on the eve of her hundredth birthday.

2. Christopher Eccleston being candid about mental health.

3. I like both of these poems: Liz Berry's "The Burning" and Talin Tahajian's "Bad classics."

I shall return in some number of hours.

Comments

[sara]

Your link to the Berry poem is broken.

[wpadmirer]

Thanks for the link to the Eccleston article.

[teenybuffalo]

I was interested by the interview with Christopher Eccleston. Part of me worries that I set attractive famous people on pedestals too much, but then one of them does something like this and I think, no, it's important for people to see that fame doesn't make one immune to mental illness, loss, and deep discomfort with oneself.

The gender expression stuff was sure burying the lede, at least for me. I want him, and middle-aged and older people as entrenched in public masculinity as he, to be able to wear eyeliner sometimes if they enjoy it. And while we're at it, I want them to benefit from the new concepts of gender that I only seem to see being talked about among people my age or younger. Never thought I would say, "You should be on Tumblr!" to anyone, but here we are.

[asakiyume]

I haven't had a chance to leave comments for the past couple of days, but I mentioned your dream to Wakanomori yesterday--he was talking about a dream clearly directly related to life (he was in a committee meeting, trying to make a point, but could see that things weren't going to go his way), and it made me think of how details get translated into the dreamsphere. A backpack of videocassettes is such a neat metaphor, and almost not a metaphor at all.

I need to come back to read the poems.

[asakiyume]

OMG "The Burning" dazzles. Fan TAS tic. "Her pelvis a cradle of jeweled tinder" <3 <3

But/And I like "Bad classics" very much too--this:

I don’t know how to write for the God
in whose voice I can only hear
my own sullied desperation. --identifiable.