DC's

The blog of author Dennis Cooper

Barf

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Millie Brown Vomits (2018)
‘Millie Brown’s artistic expression has gotten many audiences to question if it is really a form of art. An example of this would be on April 8th of 2011, where Millie Brown performed a piece within a company called SHOWstudio where she first showcased her art through a live studio video. The video is around five minutes long and contains Millie Brown drinking a series of 8 different artificially colored milks (ranging from different shades of colors such as yellow, purple, green and blue) and purposely throwing it up on a canvas. In the background of her performance are opera singers Patricia Hammond and Zita Syme singing a symphonic and soothing piece.’

 

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Jakub Julian Ziolkowski Sick of Love (2018)
‘Polish artist Jakub Julian Ziolkowski’s series Sick of Love sees the artist turning to ceramics in a bid to explore vases and vomit. Ziolkowski’s vases provide a “metaphoric receptacles for a cathartic purge” after the excesses of infatuation. Each is decorated with symbols of that physical anguish that accompanies failed relationships, evoking shamanistic and visceral themes.’

 

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Kristofer Paetau Art Forum Accident (2005)
‘I started to feel really bad at the opening of the Art Forum 2005 Art Fair in Berlin. And suddenly I couldn’t help myself, I had to vomit.’

 

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Johannes Kahrs Untitled (‘Nauseous Girl 1’) (2007)
‘The paintings of Johannes Kahrs are always based on photographs or film stills. For years already he has been collecting images from magazines, newspapers or films, and he himself sometimes also picks up a camera.’

 

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Jake & Dinos Chapman Like a dog returns to its vomit (2005)
‘With characteristic self-assurance and thoroughly post-modern irony, Jake and Dinos Chapman get their retaliation in first. ‘Like a Dog Returns to its Vomit’ appropriates a hostile, dismissive cliché, in the tradition of previous collections, ‘Insult to Injury’ and ‘The Rape of Creativity’. The indignant will find more to outrage their delicate sensibilities here. Even the arrangement of the etchings is designed to infuriate; stand back from the walls of the White Cube and one set suggests a dog defecating, the other a dog vomiting (or doing as the title of the show indicates).’

 

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OKEH x Mighty Jaxx Vomit Kid FastFood (2017)
‘In a red, yellow and white theme, Vomit Kid (Fast Food Red) reminds us of a familiar fast-food restaurant mascot. He is painted vanilla-milkshake-white with clown-like nose and lips, and chili-red hair to complete the look. Turn this bad boy around and you’ll find a smiley face imprinted on the back of his red t-shirt, reminding us of the happy mealtimes we had as kids at fast-food restaurants.’

 

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Arthur Simms Portrait of a Politician Vomiting (1992)
Rope, Paper, Wire, Charcoal, Pastel, Pen, Glue, Plastic, Metal, Glassine, Felt, Scre 1992ws, Wood, Burlap, Paint, Lucy Fradkin Drawing, 53 ½ x 55 x 22″

 

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assume vivid astro focus always vomit after formalities (2016)
‘A “uniform” performance that will dress viewers up to other performances on the same night. It is a sort of game with the initials of our pseudonym (a.v.a.f) – a process in our work that is very dada like – by following an inspiration idea by Tristan Tzara: collect different local newspapers from the week of our performance will be happening; then collect words from these newspapers with the a.v.a.f. initials; separate the words in different buckets (two buckets for A words, one for V words and one for F words). These avaf words will be assigned to each visitor and written on aprons given out to them. The audience will be wearing the avaf aprons the whole night long together with black oval masks.’

 

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Gilbert & George VOMIT (2014)
‘They’ve eaten at Mangal, a Turkish restaurant in Dalston, every evening for years on end. “We’re very loyal”, says George. They never look at the menu. “We order the same thing night after night until we’re nearly vomiting, and then we change.”’

 

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Peregrine Honig Pukers (2010)
‘The mixed media pieces depict vomiting individuals, their colorful ejections symbolizing the release of excesses acquired in a culture of consumption. Honig admits that she sometimes felt ill when making these works, and we can see in the spirited and sometimes chaotic pieces the emotional and physical force of the artist.’

 

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John Knuth Various (2013 – 2015)
‘An artist has created a disgusting collection of work by making more than 50,000 flies vomit on his canvases. The artwork is made by encouraging flies to throw-up sugar, water and watercolour paint. Artist John Knuth, 35, says he is taking advantage of flies’ digestive system to create the paintings – the largest of which measure up to 6ft tall and 4ft wide. Mr Knuth takes advantage of the fact flies cannot chew. Instead, before it can eat, the insect must first regurgitate a mixture of saliva and partly-digested material onto what it is about to consume. This liquidises the food, allowing the fly to suck it up, and leaving ‘flyspeck’ – a small splash of fly vomit. Mr Knuth’s method is to mix sugared water with watercolours to ensure the flies regurgitate sugary paint onto his canvasses.’

 

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Daniel Joseph Martinez We Are Dogs in Love with our Own Vomit (2006)
Animatronic sculpture, variable dimensions.

 

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Jon Pylypchuk You Live in a Pile of Vomit (2003)
sand paper, fabric, paint, glitter, fur, and pencil, on wove paper. approx. 10 x 8 1/2 in. (25.4 x 21.6 cm)

 

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Nathaniel Mellors The Vomiter (Ourhouse) (2010)
‘An animatronic head hooked up to an alimentary system of tubes and vomiting some nameless spume into a bucket. It never stops throwing up, as if permanently sick with itself.’

 

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Unknown Taino Manatee Bone Vomit Sticks (1000 to 1500 CE)
‘Taino spirituality, which focused on the spirit of the ancestors and the god of cassava, their primary crop, was mediated by a class of priests (bohiques), who often engaged in the taking of hallucinogenic drugs to aid in rituals and ceremonies. The Cohoba ritual required this type of special object, designed to induce vomiting to help a shaman purge themselves; this, coupled with fasting, allowed the shamans to have the most pure high from the Cohoba powder. Many of these vomiting sticks were made from the rib bones of West Indian Manatee.’

 

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William Hogarth Francis Matthew Schutz in His Bed (c.1755–1760)
‘Extensive analysis undertaken when the painting was acquired by Norwich Castle in 1990 revealed two sets of retouches, one dating from the first half of the nineteenth century and the other from the early twentieth century, with significant overpainting of the central area carried out around the mid-nineteenth century. Once the painting was cleaned and the overpainting removed, an astonishing detail was revealed, which transformed the whole meaning of the painting: Schutz was in fact depicted in the less dignified act of vomiting into a chamber pot, aching head resting on his hand. Moreover, a nineteenth-century label on the reverse of the painting tells us that this is no ordinary sickbed portrait: Schutz’s wife Susan, exasperated with her husband’s addiction ‘to the vice of intemperance’ and ‘under the hope of reforming him’, had commissioned Hogarth to paint him while suffering the after-effects of his debauchery.’

 

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Mike Parr Displacement Activities Part III vi The Emetics (Primary Vomit): I am Sick of Art [Red, Yellow and Blue] Blue (1977)
‘Parr has done more than 240 performances, some of which parodied 1970s minimalism, as when he pushed a line of tacks into his leg at precise intervals; others that parodied himself, as with 1977’s The Emetics (Primary Vomit); I Am Sick of Art [Red, Yellow and Blue], when Parr made himself vomit in primary colours. “I was exploring limit states,” he says. “I wanted to throw out all the crap and get back to the most basic impulses behind self-expression, and induce those sensations in the audience.”‘

 

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Alejandro Almanza Pereda Horror Vacui (2017)
‘Alejandro Almanza Pereda’s Horror Vacui (2010–17) series appropriates existing Romantic-style landscape and genre paintings sourced by the artist from within Istanbul. In the series, each painting is hung on the wall, with a lump of concrete stuck onto it, partially obscuring the image, as though part of a wall is hanging on the painting and not vice versa. Liquid concrete is then splattered on the painting and surrounding wall.’

 

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Emetophilia is a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by puking or observing others vomit. This is commonly referred to as a vomit fetish or puke fetish. Some emetophiles put their perversion of choice into practice by actually doing the technicolour yawn, often on a sexual partner.

‘Vomiting as a sex act is sometimes called a Roman shower, after the commonly held but mistaken belief that regurgitating food was an integral part of Roman feasts. In this urban myth ancient Romans are alleged to have thrown up after binge eating so that they could return to their feasts to eat more!

‘Some emetophiles find the act of chundering arousing; for them, the sequence of “spasm, ejaculation, relief” in retching is erotically charged. Other emetophiles are aroused by seeing, hearing, and/or smelling others heaving up their guts.

‘Some puke fetish enthusiasts desire a partner who will barf on them, while others wish to induce hurling in a partner, or even to force them to throw up. Wanting to be vomited on may be related to a desire to be dominated, while wanting to make someone else puke may stem from a desire to dominate the partner and it can be seen as a form of erotic humiliation. Emetophiles may have any combination of these desires at any time.’

 

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Cory Arcangel Vomit / Lakes (2015)
1920×1080 H.264/MPEG-4 Part 10 looped digital file (from 11 lossless TIF masters), media player, 70” flatscreen, armature, various cables

 

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Stuart Pearson Wright Various (2017-18)
‘Brian Sewell described Wright’s paintings as “images of such eccentricity and even madness that they fit perfectly the English tradition of the odd man out: the Blake, Spencer, Cecil Collins line, and the largest of them should at once have been bought by the Tate”. The Evening Standard called him “A Hogarth for our Times”.’


Halfboy Nauseous (2017)

 


Halfboy Vomiting in Debenhams (2108)

 

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Lisa Holzer I come in you (2018)
‘Food has to do with body, and desire, and destruction, and painting as well. What do I tell, the pictures me? Are they weak enough? Vulgar? I have difficulties with/at parties. I have difficulties with a certain way of happiness or lightness. What is the common ground thing? What do parties have to do with regression? It still seems wrong to me to work at parties. As teenager I cried a lot at parties. Emily Sundblad said: “But I think also people drink too much to really cause a revolution. They get too drunk, and they cannot do anything.”’

 

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Martin Creed Sick Film (2006)
Sick Film allows us to see the physical differences between men and women vomiting, but the process of the function is the same for each individual. Individuality is not lost and equality is gained. This equality may influence the spectators’ reactions as they connect the films to their intersubjective muscular memories and, perhaps awkwardly, find themselves in a public audience of individuals observing the films.’

 

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Beth Cavener In Bocca al Lupo (2012)
Stoneware, Mixed Media

 

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Gorillaz Sick Vomit Sticker (2016)
Perfect for phones, laptops, computers, or whatever needs a dose of originality.

 

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Barbora Kleinhamplová Sickness Report (2018)
‘The whole ship trembles in nausea and discomfort. Stillness can hardly be distinguished from vertigo and acceleration boosts motion sickness of both the crew and the very deck carrying the tortured bodies and minds. For those in pain, it doesn’t sound like a solution to just wait for the boat to fall apart and then start building a better one from scratch. It might take too much time. It might never even happen. Time might bring irreversible damages. The ocean might not be very accommodating. Still, they are the ones on board, while others are drowning. More and more prescriptions of diverse medications clearly aren’t capable of bringing structural change. The symptoms are reoccurring, copy-pasted, spread out on most of the ships sailing turbulent seas. Drowsiness, dizziness, discomfort, restiveness, repetitive yawning, malaise, nausea, pallor, sweating, headaches, fatigue, chest pains or tightness, palpitations, insomnia, apathy. Reducing symptoms has proven easier than searching for causes.’

 

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Elijah Burgher Liam vomiting ectoplasm (2011)
‘apart from the fact that it’s comforting to see that other people see ghosts and other unnamed 4th world entities (!!), our new motto: artloversnewyork short on funds, but never short on paranormal activity . . . !! it’s interesting to note his recent shift from magic realism (!!) to magic diagramming (!!) – completely in sync with a SATURN BLACK WATER DRAGON kick-ass start-off week. the dragon, a mythical beast – exists in the mind – remember ? plus it’s cool to see his literature background . . . where dragon myths loom large and colorful.’

 

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Armağan Kilci External | Throwing Up Series (20100
Acrylic on Colour Photograph 57×80 cm

 

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Bhakti Baxter Imploded Ball Barf (2011)
‘My father was a professional soccer player and later became a professional soccer coach. He traveled to Italy in 1990 as a photographer and literary journalist for a sports magazine. The photos were really good. I remember some shots he captured of Diego Maradona hitting on a super model and they were priceless. Soccer is ever present in the home of Argentinians. Screaming!!! Wild guttural screaming. Simultaneous emotional outbursts erupting from my dad and his friends. But let me be clear, when I made these I was not thinking about fútbol in any way. It was about tearing the old ball open, flipping it inside out (implosion), filling it with concrete, paint, resin, and letting it all meld together. I was thinking of the weight of stars. The scene in the movie Aliens where the eggs start to hatch.’

 

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Pretty Puke Various (2020)
‘Pretty Puke’s pictures are flesh caught in flashlight, strange bodily contortions and lewd acts frozen in the shocking brightness emitted with each shutter release – It’s LA at its seediest. But it’s in another space that the pictures have found their following. These images of debauchery have collided with the digital realm, and have been fast absorbed into internet culture. Pretty Puke has gained the attention of thousands of internet users, engrossed in what they see on the glow of their screens.’

 

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Brian Zimmerman Sketch for neon (2019)
Sculpy, plastic, paint 8″ x 2.5″ x 5.5″ tall

 

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Abel Azcona Utero (2014)
‘In the beginning of the piece, Azcona entered, nude, and began struggling with the coils of a thirty-foot length of coarse rope tied to an overhead beam. After writhing, biting, sucking and twisting with fury and abandon, Azcona tied the rope around his neck and ran through the crowd, to be jerked backwards with a horrible gargling cry, like a mad dog at the end of a short chain. There are many contexts in which young people, particularly young men, express themselves through personal endangerment: from suicide bombing to skateboarding. Where do you draw the line? Unlike many endurance actions, in which the level of danger builds slowly, allowing plenty of time for intervention, the potential of this particular action to turn suddenly, unintendedly fatal was too great. This time, he survived. After three harrowing runs, members of the crowd, feeling as I did, blocked his way, wrestling him to the ground and untying him, allowing him to crawl to a washtub of dirty water in the main gallery, where his wallowing, vomiting, and slithering came as a relief.’

 

 

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p.s. Hey. In a couple of hours I’m training up to Amsterdam for a ‘Room Temperature’ screening and a couple of other events, and I’ll be there through Wednesday. So the blog will taking a vacation for that duration, and you’ll get a new post and see me here again on Thursday. ** Carsten, France needs to adjust to the new, but the enormous cost of doing so makes me worry. Right, the lake there is huge and nice. Marseille is really interesting, and I guess you can handle the high heat du jour? My July and August are dependent on whether some film prospects come through or not, and hopefully I’ll have a better sense soon. I’ll definitely be away in Norway for film stuff and ideally a Scandinavian amusement park road trip in later August. Thanks. Have a lustrous next days. ** Dominik, Hi!!! Yes, I remember it being the same story with The Offspring back in the day. Resilient, those guys. The niceness weather-wise at least here is apparently not going to last all that long. Let’s max it out. Amsterdam is supposedly 19, 20 degrees, yum. Ha, we didn’t finish the script, but Zac promises we will while we’re up north. ‘Prayers’. You recontextualised a swell set of words there too, or I mean love did. Love patiently waiting for that post-vomit ‘ahhh’, G. ** laura w, It was a weird week. Do people hate Duras? Interesting. Certainly she shouldn’t be judged by ‘The Lover’, which is hardly up there with her best work. For most of the week, I was in survival mode. Now I’m in traveling and hosting and being on show mode, which hopefully will be significantly better. I’ve never read or looked at ‘Moomin’. Crazy, right? I’m happy your body and mind are righted again. Make the best of the blog’s short vacation time, and I look forward to the mutual catching up. ** Tosh Berman, Hi, Tosh! I read all of Duras’s novels in a flurry back in my mid-80s Amsterdam days. They were a big help. I especially like ‘Destroy, She Said’, but I guess I would. I hope your legs keep powering up. It’s the least a pair of legs can do, surely. xo. ** Adem Berbic, It was stressful because for a while the powers that be were saying they had no clue as to when the power would be fixed. You’re here just as I’m putting the last personal items in my backpack. I hope the weather stays friendly, or the French equivalent of friendly. Good goal with the interdependent sentences, but, just to warn you, that won’t stop others from turning your sentences into logos for your work. But make that hard, yeah. If there are groupies for conventional writer stars, I’ve never met one. But they probably exist. ** _Black_Acrylic, Yes, and quite an excellent filmmaker to boot. I’ve never seen that ‘Crash’ cover image before. It’s so nice. Would it be preferable to have a carer with whom you can excitedly discuss books and music and art and so on? Or is it like with Uber drivers where one prefers that they quietly do what’s needed and share a ‘thank you’? ** Hugo, Hi. I guess I prefer fiction where the contrived plot is something to have to hunt in order to find. Or I guess when it’s present but distorted like in Robbe-Grillet or something. ‘Tripticks’ is a great role model. Like they say, writers who think they’re being imitative tend to be the writers who least need to worry about that. Clavicular seems to be fading from my feed replaced by far right Zionist stuff, which is much, much worse. ** Alice, Hi, Alice. Yes, the blog made a heroic if rather short lived return to dailiness. Great book pick ups there in Brussels, as I don’t need to tell you. Thank you about ‘My Loose Thread’. It’s a favorite among my stuff that’s kind of my most overlooked thing. Congrats on the acceptance and the physical evidence! The current swing toward empowering racists to spit and act out their idiocy will die out, but not for a while, I guess. I’m sorry you’re so close to that stuff. I fear that trying to reason with them is kamikaze. I hope the person you’re meeting with about career is a big thinker. I’ll go find the stuff you’re posting on your Instagram in my next downtime. Take care, pal. ** HaRpEr //, The earlier Duras films are the best ones, I think. As someone who spends a ridiculous amount of time pre-planning structural stuff, I hear you. The Westmoreland book is lovely, yeah. I wish he’d written more, but he started having a difficult HIV battle pretty much as soon as he finished it. Thanks, hopefully Amsterdam will pony up for the film, yes. See you relatively pronto. ** Bill, Hi. Yes, the Paris power grid got overly taxed by the heatwave, and happily it waited to crash until it got liveable outside again. I think the temp is going to rise in the next days, but I don’t believe it’s going to get hellish, so hopefully your friend won’t spend their time here sweating and whining. I do know ASCO, but I’ve never see a ton of their actual work. The doc might be the best and only way in, so I’ll look for it. Thanks. Yeah, you have to try to ignore the explanatory stuff in ‘Backrooms’ and kind of all the dialogue in general. But there’s something in the spacial stuff that’s interesting. I hope the young director continues in that direction, but with the big success, I’m seriously doubting he will. ** Right. So you have five days to clean up the mess around here until I see you again on Thursday.

Marguerite Duras’ Films Day

 

from Intense Vocalization: Marguerite Duras
by David Ehrenstein

‘ The Marguerite Duras retrospective at the Film Society of Lincoln Center this month—18 years after the celebrated auteur’s death—presents an ideal opportunity to contemplate her place in the history of cinema. For while Hiroshima Mon Amour, the screenplay she wrote for Alain Resnais to direct, became an international success in 1960 (and remains a touchstone of “art cinema” to this day), the films she subsequently created on her own, beginning in 1969 with Destroy, She Said, have been alas, for the happy few. …

Destroy, She Said unfolds in the garden of a country hotel adjoining a forest that threatens the soigné guests (Michael Lonsdale, Henri Garcin, Nicole Hiss, Catherine Sellers) in some strange, difficult-to-define way comparable to to the “something” that so unsettles the upper-crust swells in Edward Albee’s A Delicate Balance. Low-key in tone, it does not seem like the sort of “art film” designed to break new ground. But it does so, and by explicit intention: Duras described her text as “a book that could either be read or acted or filmed or, I always add, simply thrown away.” The key word in this is “book,” as literature is always primary for Duras—even in the midst of the seemingly resolutely “cinematic.” It’s not by accident that Lonsdale—soon to emerge as a key Duras interpreter—plays a character called “Stein.” His name is derived from Duras’s novel The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein, the most crucial work of her entire oeuvre. …

‘Duras had no hope of replacing “real movies” with her conditionally tensed ones, but she went on making her sui generis works anyway—aided by a curious “real-life” character named Yann Andrea. A fan of India Song, Andrea entered Duras’s world in 1980 when he helped her through a “rest cure” designed to stem her alcoholism. His account of this, in a 1983 book entitled M.D., was met with some degree of critical interest. Duras’s own interest in Andrea quickly became an obsession. He appears with Bulle Ogier in Agatha et les lectures illimitées her 1981 reworking of elements that first appeared in her early biographical novel Un barrage contre le Pacifique (aka The Sea Wall), filmed by René Clément as This Angry Age in 1957. While Anthony Perkins and Sylvana Mangano play characters based on Duras and her brother in Clement’s version, their emotional conflict doesn’t go so far as incest, which is frankly discussed in Agatha. As nothing in the film is conventionally dramatized (Andrea and Ogier are seen wandering about the lobby of a hotel on the Normandy coast that also served as a setting for her India Song variation avant la lettre, La Femme du Gange, in 1974), no acting in the conventional sense was required. …

‘Curiously, Duras ended her filmmaking career with something resembling the conventional. Les Enfants began life as a 1970 book she wrote for children entitled Ah! Ernesto, later filmed by Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet in 1982 as En rachâchant (a rendition Duras disliked; also part of the retrospective’s shorts program). The story concerns a little boy who doesn’t want to go to school lest he learn things that he doesn’t already know. Les Enfants expands this slim tale to feature length with the novelty of having Ernesto played by an adult actor, Axel Bogousslavsky. It’s wryly amusing in a way quite unusual for Duras. More importantly, it’s shot in a more or less ordinary style, with actors playing actual characters and speaking words on screen in the usual manner.

‘That Duras would conclude her filmmaking career in this manner must be regarded in the context of a career that was devoted to textual elucidation. One suspects that the success of her novel The Lover in 1984—an overwhelming hit with both critics and the general public—put her off from filmmaking. Jean-Jacques Annaud’s 1992 adaptation of this tale, which was another derivation from the Un barrage contre le Pacifique cycle and which related how her family pimped her out to a wealthy Chinese man, was served up in the plush “high-class” erotic style of the Emmanuelle films. In what you might call anticipatory retaliation, Duras in 1991 wrote The North China Lover, a “remake” of The Lover adding details that the first version of Duras’s original novel didn’t include, all folded into an explicit critique of the film she suspected (with good reason) Annaud was putting together.’

(read the entirety)

 

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Stills














































 

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Further

Marguerite Duras @ IMDb
Association Marguerite Duras
Société Internationale Marguerite Duras
Les Écrits de Marguerite Duras
‘La petite cuisine de Marguerite’
‘In Love with Duras’ by Edmund White
‘The obsessions of Marguerite Duras’
‘The Art of Fugue: on Marguerite Duras’s Film Aesthetics’
Interview avec Marguerite Duras
‘Yann Andréa, la dernière énigme de Marguerite Duras’
‘Initiales M.D. (Marguerite Duras) (+ DVD)’
‘Marguerite Duras, l’éternel retour’
Lettre de Marguerite Duras à Alain Resnais
Film: ‘Marguerite, A Reflection of Herself’
‘NOUVEAU ROMAN CINEMA: MARGUERITE DURAS’
‘The Film Society to Fete Marguerite Duras with October Retrospective’

 

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Extras


Marguerite Duras – “Écrire” (ARTE)


MARGUERITE DURAS À PROPOS DE L’AN 2000


Jean Luc Godard – Marguerite Duras

 

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L’interview imaginaire
from Versatile Mag

 

In 1996, you decide to stop everything, to not write a single line anymore. Do you feel like you’ve covered the subject, that you have nothing left to say?

Marguerite Duras: Sometimes you just get caught up in the game. Just before 1996, I had written a book called C’est tout. That’s it, there are events in life, kind of like a passion you can’t escape, and I could have kept writing, I could have kept reworking, making variations of my works, endlessly.

Few voices have spoken up about your writings, do you regret this lack of controversy?

M.D.: Nonsense! Bullshit! I’ve spent my life the target of controversies. I’ve always divided what they call ‘the literary world,’ I supposedly wore too many hats when the only one that suits me is being a writer. Writer, but not literature. Writer.

In 2014… 2014, the Pléiade… And otherwise, I’ve always been accused of self-indulgent gibberish, always, judged a limited vocabulary, people didn’t understand why Gallimard allowed one of my books to be published with so many grammar mistakes! And my stint in journalism, for Libération, that stirred up controversy. Like, for instance, over the Petit Grégory case. So, controversies: all the time.

These criticisms mainly concern your stage and film adaptations, which, on the other hand, have been challenged…

M.D.: So, there are two things. There are the films I made myself. That I wrote and directed myself. These are films that could now be called art-house films. It’s my way of talking about cinematic writing, of showing that it wasn’t necessarily narrative, that you could make films differently. After that, I did collaborate with cinema and it went very well: Alain Resnais’s Hiroshima mon amour is still a “classic,” after all. Then, there were certain adaptations that we all know about, like The Lover, which was adapted by Jean-Jacques Annaud. We didn’t agree, but he had obtained the rights… But it allowed me to make a book, and a good book, to revisit The Lover after a few years and release a book called The Lover from the North of China. A book where I wrote my film, that is to say, The Lover from the North of China is the film written of The Lover… which was much more successful than The Lover, the film.

Most of your stories are taken from your life, during the glory days of French colonialism. Is it a kind of nostalgia?

M.D.: Not nostalgia at all, it’s a setting. There was the setting of Indochina, what we called the Indochinese cycle, but afterward, there were other settings, other cycles in my work. There’s no question of nostalgia. I rather explain the flaws of colonialism. And otherwise, the themes of my work, the themes that supposedly I take up, modulate, and stretch, the relationship to the mother, the mother who necessarily is all-powerful, but who inevitably falls short. And then there is the romantic encounter, women, variations of women. I also talk a lot in my books about unique, humid, and hot seasons. I talk about social transgression. I often talk about colonialism, but not the flashy colonialism: I often talk about white people, the average little whites, and how they positioned themselves within colonialism. But I also talk a lot about the Holocaust.

Unlike your writings, which are decidedly focused on the past, you seem to appreciate youth, at least in your choice of companions. Is it a way of looking toward the future?

M.D.: The future? I don’t give a damn. Well, it’s easy to say that when you’re published in the Pléiade, but I’m more – and that’s why you’re asking me about the age of my companions – someone who is in the present. It’s not about the future at all; it’s about being in the present and about to soak up everything the present can contain.

What are you trying to forget?

M. D.: I write, so naturally, when you write, you don’t forget, you summon. It’s pretentious to say you’re alone in front of your sheet. I summon, and in a way, you could say I transcribe what I have summoned, so I’m not trying to forget: I drink more to face all those I summon, all those I can’t forget.

In your opinion, who could take up your torch?

M.D.: (Long pause) A torch to light what? Many people call themselves my heirs, but I think there are plenty of people who think they write, who think they write books, while they write nothing. You have to write as an absolute necessity, urgently: sure, why not? But the torch, no. I’m not a leader, contrary to what’s been said, I never belonged to the Nouveau Roman, I’m just Marguerite Duras, M.D. What would be the essential and eternal qualities.

About literature?

M.D.: As I said before, writing, writing with a purpose, with generosity, not pretending to write, but actually writing, convincing yourself that what you write is essential.

For you, what makes a good book?

M.D.: I don’t know.

If you were invited to dinner, what would be the ideal menu?

M.D.: Before talking about the content, let’s talk about the setting. It would be eating in Normandy, by the sea, at my hotel, Les Roches Noires. Or down near my place in Paris, in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. Peasant-style cooking. I cook myself like a peasant. In Saint-Germain-des-Prés, it could be at Les Prés aux Claires or Le Petit Saint-Benoît. I love peasant cuisine in Neauphle, in the house I bought with the money I made from Barrages contre le Pacifique… There, I really liked cooking, it took time. I would cook when my friends were either sleeping or out for a walk. I had the whole afternoon, I would cook in the kitchen, I used to make shopping lists. Shopping lists that were even found published in the Pléiade. You can’t mess around. That’s cooking that simmers a lot, that stews, as they say. If there’s no lemon in the kitchen, there’s nothing. And then, there’s the Vietnamese omelette. The Vietnamese omelette, along with peasant cooking, is what I love the most. After my death, my son published a cookbook: *The Cooking of Marguerite Duras*. Well, Yann Andréa had it banned. It’s true that it wasn’t very literary. With François Mitterrand, we talked a lot about food, even though I never saw him eat ortolans, hidden under his napkin.

During this meal, what topics of discussion should be avoided?

M.D.: None. None, except maybe literature or literary criticism, but otherwise, you have to talk. You have to stir ideas around.

What background sound would you like to hear?

M.D.: *Moderato Cantabile*. Moderate and singing. Music always connected to passion. What I especially love about these meals – and maybe what could be interesting about them – is that I love music when it disrupts the narrative flow, when you have to stop because you’re so intrigued or mesmerized by the music, and then you have to get back to the story. That’s what’s interesting. I love little songs: When the Lilacs Bloom, My Love… You know, all those pre-war things, or even more classical stuff like Bach’s The Art of Fugue, which I listened to a lot when my son was taking piano lessons. You’re aware. Aware of those stories where little boys take piano lessons while the mothers fall in love.

 

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15 of Marguerite Duras’ 22 films

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La musica (1967)
‘Marguerite Duras’ La Musica, which she adapted from her own short two-character play, is about a husband and wife who meet three years after their formal separation, when they return to the provincial town where they once lived to pick up their divorce decree. In the film’s longest sequence, which I suspect is pretty much the total of the play, He (Robert Hossein) and She (Delphine Seyrig) come together in the lobby of their hotel, at first acting like anxious, rueful ghosts. They circle each other in carefully choreographed movements; alternately each literally frames the other by his own person and by his mirror image. (Miss Duras loves to see things in and through glass—mirrors, windshields, windows). The revelations, though obliquely made, are quite specific. She was unfaithful. He once planned to murder her, She, unknown to him, once tried to commit suicide. La Musica is intellectually chic moviemaking of the sort that is quite entertaining while it is going on but practically ceases to exist, even as a memory, when it’s over. Hossein and Miss Seyrig read their lines with style and look marvelously unhappy, she, especially, in blond bob that evokes the 1930’s and the image of Lilyan Tashman.’ — New York Times


Trailer

Watch the film here

 

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Destroy She Said (Détruire dit-elle, 1969)
‘In a secluded hotel circumscribed by a dense forest Max and Alissa Thor meet Stein and Elisabeth. Max, a professor of future history and an aspiring author, is immediately attracted to the brooding wife of industrialist Bernard Alione, Elisabeth, who is recovering from a miscarriage. Stein, a German Jew and potential writer, is infatuated by Alissa, Max’s young wife and former student. During their sojourn the guests’ identities gradually meld. While playing cards, for example, each guest anticipates the others’ observations. Although her friends remain at the resort, the insecure Elisabeth leaves upon the arrival of her worldly husband. Destroy, She Said is a madhouse in its narrative and dialogue with contradictions within sentences. A triumph performance from Catherine Sellers sells the crazy with wonderful panics and confusion wayward bursts.’ — collaged


Excerpt


Excerpt


the entirety

 

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Yellow the Sun (1971)
‘The whole film takes place in a single room where representatives of the two political forces and their enemy “the Jew” are gathered. A female character establishes the dialogue between these individuals and comments on the ideology of each, and then everyone seems to rally to a common idea.’ — MUBI

Watch the film here

 

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Nathalie Granger (1972)
Nathalie Granger is aesthetico-philosophical opus-film. The strictest logic of its visual images step by step moves us, the viewers, to the feeling that we, while observing the still and harmonious life in a quiet and prosperous household, never expected to get – the feeling of the incompatibility between traditional (over-worldly) spirituality (as it exists and flowers in religious and/or ideological beliefs) and… children’s psychological needs. It is the one of the miracles of this film that the concept of traditional (above-worldly) spirituality is not defined but is impersonated by two profoundly intelligent actresses: Jeanne Moreau and Lucia Bose. They both incarnate over-worldliness with miraculous naturalness of complete immanency. They live eternity as if it is possible to breath when you are inside it. To watch Nathalie Granger is challenging as well as a stimulating and rewarding experience for all those who in their life and thinking don’t follow the authoritarian clichés and seductive songs of entertaining ads but are prone to try to make up their own minds about life and the world.’ — actingoutpolitics.com


the entire film

 

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India Song (1975)
‘Marguerite Duras creates a sensual, yet abstract and enigmatic exposition on longing, isolation, haunted memory, and obsolescence in India Song. Duras integrates highly stylized, yet integrally personal (and relevant) impressionistic images of her youth in then-French Indochina and the radical nouveau roman structure that has come to define the novelist turned filmmaker’s mid-century avant-garde literature within the classical framework of tableaux imagery that redefines the syntax of traditional (and particularly cinematic) narrative. From the opening sequence of ambiguous, (but implicitly colonial) foreign landscapes, Duras establishes the dissociation between the visual and the aural through incongruous and aesthetically formalized tableaux juxtapositions that, in turn, reflect the film’s overarching themes of alienation and estrangement: exclusive use of non-diegetic sound to serve as a surrogate contextual (anti) narrative; visually distanced, non-confronting dialogue through mirrored angles (a technique similarly implemented in Alain Resnais’s Last Year at Marienbad); pervasive musicality through a slow rhythm waltz that conveys the film’s paradoxical sense of displacement and stasis through its languid pacing, recursiveness, and melancholic tone; repeated references to leprosy that ingeniously evoke an implicit association between isolation (through disease quarantining) and colonies (lepers and imperialism). Inextricably bound in the performance of the empty social rituals of their class, these aimless, privileged colonialists embody the adrift and inutile fleeting vestiges of a crumbling empire, reduced to the imperceptible glow of an anecdotal setting sun against an inherently sovereignless – and unconquerable – eternal landscape.’ — Strictly Film School


Excerpt


Excerpt

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Son nom de Venise dans Calcutta désert (1976)
‘The film is a sequel to her 1975 film India Song and features Delphine Seyrig reprising her role as Anne-Marie Stretter. The film premiered at the 1976 Cannes Film Festival in Directors’ Fortnight. Duras demonstrates that the disease and suffering of the Indians symbolically infects the Europeans as well. Thus, she asserts: One of the external signs of the fissuring of the seemingly watertight compartmentalized colonial society is the deep sense of malaise and maladjustment which is wearing out its white inhabitants. In spite of the vast paraphernalia of protective artifices, the Europeans find their presence in the colony quite intolerable.’ — collaged

Watch the film here

 

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Entire Days Among the Trees (1976)
Des journées entières dans les arbres is a 1976 French film directed by Marguerite Duras, based on her novel. Prior to directing a film version of the novel, Duras had already modified it into a stageplay that had enjoyed a theatrical run.’ — found

Watch the film here

 

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Baxter, Vera Baxter (1977)
‘Images of the seaside again at the beginning of the film, when Carlos d’Alessio’s music starts playing. This song will continue to play the entire 90 minutes of the film. It’s maddening! It’s exhilarating. Especially given the contrast between the catchy nature of the relentless music and the lethargy of the main character, a woman deciding whether to rent a very expensive villa with her cheating husband’s money. It’s supposedly the neighbours who are playing the music. But we never see them. A troubled testament to the eternity of love. Whatever happens, however many times we end affairs, we leave each other, we cheat, we lie, we abuse, love never ends. Part of us can never stop loving. Even if the rest of us is ill equipped to deal with it. And it is ultimately this discrepancy that causes us to hurt each other. Not the lack of love. But its eternal presence.’ — Tale of Tales


Excerpt


Excerpt

Watch the film here

 

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Les mains négatives (1978)
‘The images of the film are Paris at dusk. A city far too great to comprehend on any level other than the superficial, a city that leaves one reeling in Stendhalism. It’s a blank Paris, before the stories of the day play out, it mirrors the “mains negatives” of the title, presence by absence, the hand-print revealed by the blank left when the area round it is covered in paint. The beauty of the city is revealed by the traces that people have left behind, murals, avenues of trees, monuments. Marguerite spoke of these images as images passe-partout, images that allow the narration to infuse them with meaning. It’s good to watch the film without sound first to understand how fully the perception of the images is informed by the narration. The parallel images you don’t see are of pre-historic petroglyphs, stencilled scuplted hand-prints which Duras describes as being in a cave by the sea. These were, in her interpretation, people simply recording their existence, in front of the immutability of the sea and the granite. What they have in common is that all the hands look the same, there’s an equality to each person’s existence implied.’ — oOgiandujaOo, IMDb


the entire film

 

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Cesarée (1979)
‘Made up of stills of the Tuileries gardens and its statues by Maillol, Césarée is stamped with the memory of Berenice, queen of the Jews, and of her city of which nothing remains but the name, abandoned following her repudiation. There is this same confusion of time periods and resurgence of narratives in Les Mains négatives. Its dolly shots trace a slow advance through Paris, which is deepened by the reference to the drawings of hands found in many caves dating from the Magdalenian age. Thus comes to a head an ode to humanity, and to all its excluded ones, that daylight, only just risen over the city, has not yet forced into extinction. Its murmur resounds for a long time: “Everything is being crushed, I love you farther than you. I would love anyone hearing me shout that I love you.”‘ — Frac Lorraine


the entire film

 

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Le Navire Night (1979)
‘A huge let-down to audiences at the time, Marguerite Duras’ follow-up to her lush and flamboyant India Song is a very different film indeed. Telling the story of two tragic lovers who never meet (the girl is dying of leukemia and daren’t risk face-to-face contact) Duras sets out to communicate this ‘faceless’ relationship to her audience by – and you really won’t believe this unless you see it – barely even photographing the glamorous trio of actors she has hired to star. So if your notion of sheer cinematic bliss is gazing raptly at Mathieu Carriere or Dominique Sanda (OK, I admit it, mine is) then be warned that Le Navire Night may give you a nasty shock. Long motionless takes of the three actors having their make-up put on or wandering – barely visible – round shadowy rooms. For most of the film, the camera pans along deserted Parisian boulevards, or pores over a luscious red dress hanging on a wall. At the end, Duras announces in voiceover that “the story was never shot.” True, on a purely literal level. Yet the sense of frustrated longing that sustains both non-lovers through their passionate non-affair…if we don’t experience that through the methods Duras uses here, why not? Are we incapable of feeling unless we are prompted by the prescribed visual image? Or are we (as Susan Sontag feared) so saturated by images that we can no longer feel at all? To try and put it more simply, why is Marguerite Duras’ way of telling this story any less valid than the conventional techniques that we, as a film audience, expect and demand? Our answer to that question says little about Duras and her film, and everything about us. Why do we feel the need to reduce an emotional tragedy to a visual image? Is it morally acceptable for a film to do that? At once a negation of cinema as it is, and a reaffirmation of what cinema might be, Le Navire Night is a film to be watched with heart and mind and senses wide open. Or not watched at all.’ — David Melville


Excerpt

Watch the film here

 

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Aurélia Steiner (Vancouver & Melbourne) (1979)
‘As is the case with other experimental shorts by Marguerite Duras, the images, although beautiful are almost mood-setters, the main images are evoked in the mind of the viewer by the words of Aurelia Steiner, sometimes, though by no means always, synchronising with the images. For example the shot traverses Notre Dame de Paris, which is actually a white building, but here the stone is yellowed by the late-evening sun, and Aurelia talks about voices (“they’re speaking”) telling her of palaces by streams with thickets of nettles and brambles between them, of island temples, and for a moment Notre Dame is on the Ganges. This reminded me the ideas of writer Italo Calvino and his book The Castle Of Crossed Destinies, in which stories are almost exclusively narrated by the placing of Tarot cards in sequences, the evocative symbols (forest, castle, well, mountain, gibbet) being generators of images that are particular to each reader, Calvino accepting how very much of the story rests in just these small kernels. Aurelia Steiner then, will be a unique experience for whoever watches it. In this way it’s almost anti-cinematic, the viewer isn’t forced to see the fixed images that make up the fantasies of standard commercial cinema. In a special edition of Cahiers du Cinema Duras wrote that she was aiming for an ideal, which was of the “image passe-partout”, to use shots that were neither beautiful nor ugly, which would be exchangeable between a series of texts, images that would take their direction from the narration. If she was aiming for images without beauty she would have been better off not using cinematographer Pierre Lhomme, who shot Army of Shadows, and worked with James Ivory and Ismail Merchant. The collaborators do however create a sense of vacuum with the images on-screen, a cavern that Aurelia’s words fill.’ — IMDb


 the entire film

 

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Agatha et les lectures illimitées (1981)
‘This film was recorded in Trouville-sur-Mer, in the lobby of the building where Duras lived. She reads the female part of the text and her much younger lover, Yann Andréa, reads the male part. The dry way of saying the words that express such passionate feelings has inspired much of the tone of Bientôt l’été. Not to mention the views of the sea, and the atmosphere of an abandoned resort town.’ — Tale of Tales


the entire film

 

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L’homme atlantique (1981)
‘An autonomy of the soundtrack, giving back to writing and to the voice of the writer its importance. A black screen with few images from rushes of the previous “Agathe”.’ — MUBI


the entire film

 

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Les enfants (1985)
‘7 year-old boy Ernesto intrigues people around him for several reasons. Despite such a young age, he looks like a man on his 40’s and also seems a little more intelligent than any of his peers – and the latter fact is what causes him to quit school, refusing to attend it because he doesn’t want to learn the things he does not know. His family is very supportive of his actions, even though they don’t have any clue of what’s to become of him; at the same time the school headmaster and a journalist are concerned about Ernesto’s real motivations for leaving school.’ — IMDb

Watch the film here

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** Adem Berbic, Now that my world is relit, I’ll absorb ‘Reek of Putrefaction’, thanks. Being precise as a writer is probably more important than being talented, I think. You make the best mistakes when you’re hellbent on precision. I think music might be the most fruitfully studiable form for a writer. Of fiction at least. If you don’t feel the need to be conventionally successful. ** jay, Hi. Odds definitely are on fabrication in that case. I hope your forearms aren’t peeling. Unless you want them to, of course. I’m good, mostly just thrilled to have electricity, hot water, internet again and sooner than anticipated. ** _Black_Acrylic, He could be in a group show with Nicole Eisenman and Sue Williams. I believe England is still in the running? France too, but I guess duh on that. Derek Raymond, great stuff. ** Hugo, Maybe it could be argued that the more jerry rigged plot the better? Plot as roller coaster track? Deadpan can take the ick out of the lyrical, if you ask me. I think what you said makes sense, yes. ** Steve, Oh, I’ll go check. Bandcamp for his music offshoot, I mean. No, but someone knowing my interest in haunts and Halloween suggested to me that I should investigate forensic props if I hadn’t, and I did, and … voila. So much sympathy for your heat. I suspect NYC’s power grid is more prepared than Paris’s. There were more than 60 of those power blackouts I just went through in Paris this week. ** Carsten, Enjoy Zurich. I’ve never quite figured that city out. Or gotten past the impression that it’s very stiff and moneyed, I mean. ** Diesel Clementine, Hi. I only know Clavicular by what comes through my feed, but he seems very, very uninteresting. His reading Proust doesn’t dissuade me from that opinion, at least in theory. You’ve been busy. My power outage kept me from that possibility. I so hope that your best friend doesn’t relapse. Oil painting! Fancy! ** Charalampos, I’m still being force-fed Clavicular, but I can’t imagine that will last much longer. Gary was cruel to a lot of people. Even his good friends. My week sucked, but it’s bettering. In Amsterdam I’m also doing some kind of book-related event and our host is forcing Zac and me to be ‘special guests’ at a gallery opening/show by Gilbert and George, but I have no idea what that means. ** Bill, Outsider art projects perhaps, yes. ‘Rose of Nevada’ … do I know what that is? I’ll find out. Thanks, B. ** HaRpEr //, I hope so: the hot new fantasy. ‘Class Relations’, terrific. Zac’s very influenced by Straub-Huillet. That may account for that ‘PGL’ quality. A Bresson influence on them wouldn’t shock me either. Thank you! ** laura w, I’ve noticed that about the sky vs. hotness, but I haven’t in Paris, but it’s harder to look up and get a decent view here. They’re saying we might get another brutal heatwave starting next weekend. Luckily/hopefully weather forecasting here is almost always way off. I don’t get the Geese worship at all. I mean they’re okay and everything, but … ‘music for people who think that just kids by patti smith is the greatest book ever written’: haha, I think you nailed it. Thanks for the link to the maze store. I’ll go look around shortly. Stay as icy as you can. ** Dominik, Well, hi!!!! Welcome back! Fun: that festival. Wow, big names even. When my nephew was a little kid, he asked me to take him to his first rock concert for his birthday. I let him choose, and he chose The Offspring. That editing gig sounds scarier than it probably was. You’re out of the heatwave now, aren’t you, for a little while at least, like us? The weather is weirdly very pleasant here at the moment. Not for long. Other than the power blackout, which was kind of hell, things have been a little unremarkable but okay. I think we’re finally finishing the new film script today, the gods and Zac willing. jerking off from all the killyourself messages love’s getting, G. ** CS, Hi. I hope what’s keeping you away from here is bettering your life to the max. I’m always around. Enjoy everything. ** ⋆˚꩜。darbbzz⋆˚꩜。, Hi, pal. Are the donuts any good? I’m guessing the coffee probably isn’t. I do know. And it all sounds super sweet, honestly. I’m always incredibly shy when it comes to relationships. Or at least for quite a long time. I don’t really understand how you couldn’t be if it’s authentic. Heat here is down to actual pleasantness, but it won’t last long, that’s for sure. I don’t know Endless Dismal Moans. The name is very charismatic. And ‘psychotically unlistenable’ is attractive too. Have the best fucking time ever at Myrtle Beach!! ** nat, The power cables melted, but I didn’t. Well, as far I can tell. Thanks! ** Okay. Let’s see … oh, the films of Marguerite Duras! That’s a good one. Props to me. And to her most importantly. And to you just as importantly. See you tomorrow.

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