The places we have known do not belong only to the little world of space on which we map them for our own convenience. None of them was ever more than a thin slice, held between the contiguous impressions that composed our life at that time; the memory of a particular image is but regret for a particular moment; and houses, roads, avenues are as fugitive, alas, as the years. - Marcel Proust
in a dream I was death’s carriage mosquito bringing you a slow-acting tablet of finality. you, a diseased commoner of Bresson’s, a ruddy peasant fishing a lake of glass coke bottle terrariums filled with curling purple vines.
The Map as Art: Contemporary Artists Explore Cartography
By Katharine Harmon
"Maps can be simple tools, comfortable in their familiar form. Or they can lead to different destinations: places turned upside down or inside out, territories riddled with marks understood only by their maker, realms connected more to the interior mind than to the exterior world. These are the places of artists' maps, that happy combination of information and illusion that flourishes in basement studios and downtown galleries alike. It is little surprise that, in an era of globalized politics, culture, and ecology, contemporary artists are drawn to maps to express their visions. Using paint, salt, souvenir tea towels, or their own bodies, map artists explore a world free of geographical constraints. "
but i appreciate geographical constraints. constraints is not a pleasing word.
At the library, I checked out books on books. I told myself a long time ago to stop this. But I feel I've earned it. I have been looking over David Madden's (who I respect very much) Primer of the Novel for Readers and Writers. He lists, in chronological development, each type of novel. Also reading Forster's Aspects of the Novel which, although composed 40 years prior to Madden's work, pokes fun at such cataloging. But I have always enjoyed a catalog.
the picaresque novel the comic novel the satirical novel the epistolary novel the novel in diary form the novel in journal form the memoir novel the autobiographical novel the personal history novel the confessional novel the lyrical novel the biographical novel the roman a clef bildungsroman the novel of character the novel of manners the sentimental novel the didactic novel the religious novel the romantic novel the gothic novel the southern gothic and grotesque novels the fantasy novel the occult novel the historical novel the chronical novel the popular novel the pop novel the western novel the detective novel the spy novel the tough guy novel science fiction the love novel the antiquarian novel the naturalistic novel the novel of realism the novel of domestic realism the novel of formal realism the pornographic novel novels of the soil the regional novel the novel of small town life the local color novel the ethnic novel the philosophical novel the thesis novel the social chronical novel the problem novel the propaganda novel the novel of social criticism the utopian novel the anti-utopian novel the radical novel the socialist novel the proletarian or protest novel the political novel the topical novel the nonfiction novel the psychological novel the psychological romance the novel of psychological realism the novel of consciousness the novel of psychological fantasy the symbolic, allegorical novel the anti-hero novel kunstlerroman the pure novel: a not-yet-realized-type
there is also a maddening and informative chronology of novels
lately at work i've been jotting notes onto post its and stuffing them in my pockets. i thought i'd share some.
maybe maybe i just finished a track meet in my mind, backwards, in heels, and didn't even place maybe why i am averse to communicate why does a year old used once jar of horseradish frighten me so like the battery breath of wet tongues? why can't machismo ruled men learn love to like Mary plastered to the back windows of their waxed,chromed up and out pickup trucks so Albuquerque entrepreneurs wouldn't get rich marrying off Mexican women to lonely American bank mangers? why do border guards thank me for barbeque? "the best in my life" could i walk drunk through mall traffic on a distant future holiday in the absence of environment, nothing to breath, a nod to the cameras before i indict unsuspecting motorists, but its 4 am, now. a coked out suv driver with a hard-on blasting dee-lite 4am sunday on the way to my apartment complex, could this be the new faction of believers who back me? kissing roomfuls of showered women wrapped in downy bear towels? why are all the people i know joining the military? is it possible for the island of Cyprus to be taken solely by those i could call bros? would i expose myself to scrutiny and be asked to withdraw while waiting for a pipe cleaner wire of clarity to tie off my situation