Distribution Automatique

Thursday, May 29


Feeling very excited, but also feeling a bit overwhelmed. So many thoughts and fantasies, feelings, strange murmurings. Bachileanus Brasilieros. Then Carmen.

International Journal of Psychoanalysis
Postgraduate Journal?

Book to Univ of So Ill Press?

Poetry manuscript


Visualized identity=narrative-
you "see" the identity by means of
contextual descriptions
Dickens' -contextualized image-
the "click" of the woman's purse being shut
Mann's-visual/contextual descriptions (letimotifs)
as writing-noise in the background- such as the
air purifier- imaginitive noises- Foreman-Zorn
identity- understood as distortion-free of idiosynchrasies
November- the magic month- late November
orange notebook- Marrakesh

optical instrumentality-
description of visual-perceptual experience

life is simply a test of will

we'll have to go back to baby-talk to
express the least sense out of what we

The only explanation I can see that the development
the science of love preceded that of
beauty is that the need for a lover is
more insistently and demandingly felt than the need for an
Identity is an aesthetic achievement insofar
as the self, in order to be responded to,
must resonate harmonically with other


There *is* something out beyond the edge of the visible universe. It is hearing the ear
thinks, seeing the eye thinks. Out beyond
there where nothing is seen, in a single pulse
the universe repeats itself with every breath.
Normally, the eyes see. But when one is
listening, light itself translates the
signals into bird's movements, strumming air
with its harnessings, transfiguring a past scrap heap
of posturings in the lattices of a sparkling
hesitancy. Dripping with sweat, the angel mutters
to her or himself, down with this, hurling a
strictly documented universe, graduated, gyrated
and expostulated in the grainy
screening-room of history. Lifted high and
carefully deposited on the shelves, the words
stretch and yawn and then start to move, scramble madly, from
one volume and meaning to the next. In a
deft stroke of recognition the words run off the
books- onto the shelves, failing, obstinately, to utter
a sound or thought.