There is a sense of inexorable catharsis, and dare I say— spirituality—when the protagonists begin their journey into one another since they alone embody the ideas and predicaments of the text.
The fact of the matter was this: the poem had been written, the call had been answered, and as lofty as it sounds—at that moment there I was, as Frank O'Hara put aptly—"the center of all beauty! / writing these poems!/ Imagine!".
I wonder at how these frugal, accessible pleasures define her daily existence and get elated with the fact that reading takes up a significant space on the shelf
Maybe I loved her so because we were daughters of the same soil, to some extent, at least. It made me smile. But I also sneered at myself a little bit, because her soil had also ripped apart mine for over 200 years.
The personal space is the same as the political sphere, the individual on the same strand as the collective.
As the white hot sun pierced through the soufflé clouds on an afternoon a lifetime ago, my aunt and I leaned back a little too precariously on our rattan armchairs while talking about the allure of academe.
In a particularly American but artsy, cinematic production depicting the friendship between David Lipsky and David Foster Wallace,
There is a sense of inexorable catharsis, and dare I say— spirituality—when the protagonists begin their journey into one another since they alone embody the ideas and predicaments of the text.
The fact of the matter was this: the poem had been written, the call had been answered, and as lofty as it sounds—at that moment there I was, as Frank O'Hara put aptly—"the center of all beauty! / writing these poems!/ Imagine!".
I wonder at how these frugal, accessible pleasures define her daily existence and get elated with the fact that reading takes up a significant space on the shelf
A dream of me in a sea of green.
Maybe I loved her so because we were daughters of the same soil, to some extent, at least. It made me smile. But I also sneered at myself a little bit, because her soil had also ripped apart mine for over 200 years.
The personal space is the same as the political sphere, the individual on the same strand as the collective.
As the white hot sun pierced through the soufflé clouds on an afternoon a lifetime ago, my aunt and I leaned back a little too precariously on our rattan armchairs while talking about the allure of academe.
In a particularly American but artsy, cinematic production depicting the friendship between David Lipsky and David Foster Wallace,
The epic antedates even the depiction of the famous Trojan war; it is, in effect, the oldest epic found till date.
After more than a year into the coronavirus pandemic, we are still largely confined to the four walls of our homes. But for painters, by and large, this has always been the case.
