She sleeps on couches, dines with strangers and lives out of her car. Still, Matika Wilbur does it for the art and for the people. Wilbur is Native American. Invariably strapped to her arm is a camera, and other than a few provisions and clothing, she owns little else. Last year &
"I come in a good way. I bring gifts. I interact with their children well. I behave myself. I walk the red road," she said.
“So, transform yourself first…Because you are young and have dreams and want to do something meaningful, that in itself, makes you our future and our hope. Keep expanding your horizon, decolonize your mind, and cross borders.”—Yuri Kochiyama (via conversationpeace)
In the book-nerd circles where I hang out, the most famous Twitter-hater by far is Jonathan Franzen, who has accused the service of being “unspeakably dumb,” “a coercive development,” “the ultimate irresponsible medium,” and “everything I oppose.” I love Franzen’s work, but reading him on the topic of Twitter drives me bidirectionally bonkers. Direction one: His opinions are bad-tempered, incurious, oversimplified, recklessly arrived at (he has no idea how Twitter works), and, in many respects, flat wrong. Direction two: How can he be so petulant, so dogmatic, so uninformed, and — in the deepest ways, where it matters most — so disturbingly right? What Franzen is wrong about is what actually transpires on Twitter. It’s not unspeakably dumb; the problem, in fact, is that it’s sufficiently smart and interesting that spending massive amounts of time on it is totally possible and semi-defensible.
Whatever else Twitter is, it’s a literary form, which goes some way toward explaining why I find it so seductive. A tweet is basically a genre in which you try to say an informative thing in an interesting way while abiding by its constraint (those famous 140 characters) and making use of its curious argot (@, RT, MT, HT). For people who love that kind of challenge — and it’s easy to see why writers might be overrepresented among them — Twitter has the same allure as gaming. It is, essentially, Sentences With Friends.
“As I mourned by the sea, two images came to mind, watermarking the paper- colored sky. The first was the face of his wife, Laurie. She was his mirror; in her eyes you can see his kindness, sincerity, and empathy. The second was the “great big clipper ship” that he longed to board, from the lyrics of his masterpiece, “Heroin.” I envisioned it waiting for him beneath the constellation formed by the souls of the poets he so wished to join. Before I slept, I searched for the significance of the date—October 27th—and found it to be the birthday of both Dylan Thomas and Sylvia Plath. Lou had chosen the perfect day to set sail—the day of poets, on Sunday morning, the world behind him.”—Patti Smith's beautiful tribute to Lou Reed. Pair with Smith’s poetic remembrance of Robert Mapplethorpe, then celebrate Reed’s legacy with a "Sunday Morning" literary jukebox. (via explore-blog)
More links today as Michael Bates, Bill Parker, Jason Wojiechowski, and myself made our postseason predictions.
And sure, I’m on team chaos, but because society is made up of a bunch of rules trying to govern the wildness, well, so too are postseason predictions made.
Here’s one of mine:
"Athletics over Tigers in 5
I could try and give you a rational explanation for this pick. That I think Josh Donaldson is just as good as David Wright, that Brandon Moss just needed extra time to develop, that Eric Sogard will use his glasses as a magnifying glass to fry ants, and that Bartolo Colon’s 18-6, 2.65 ERA, arguably his best season ever, are enough to beat the Tigers.
And I could say that I worry about Fielder’s down year, Cabrera’s hip injury, and Justin Verlander’s struggles. Or that Don Kelly won’t get enough at-bats to really show off his skills.
But it’s not that. It’s simply that I like the colors yellow and green and the Tigers beat the Athletics last year and, dammit, when is it Billy Beane’s time?
That’s not science, that’s witchcraft. But that’s what I’m going with.”
For the rest, though, and what everyone else is banking on, click through.
The worst thing you do when you think is lie — you can make up reasons that are not true for the things that you did, and what you’re trying to do as a creative person is surprise yourself — find out who you really are, and try not to lie, try to tell the truth all the time. And the only way to do this is by being very active and very emotional, and get it out of yourself — making things that you hate and things that you love, you write about these then, intensely. When it’s over, then you can think about it; then you can look, it works or it doesn’t work, something is missing here. And, if something is missing, then you go back and reemotionalize that part, so it’s all of a piece.
But thinking is to be a corrective in our life — it’s not supposed to be a center of our life. Living is supposed to be the center of our life, being is supposed to be the center — with correctives around, which hold us like the skin holds our blood and our flesh in. But our skin is not a way of life — the way of living is the blood pumping through our veins, the ability to sense and to feel and to know. And the intellect doesn’t help you very much there — you should get on with the business of living.