Photo with 31 notes
Lustmord by Jenny Holzer, 1993
Photograph by Alan Richardson
Silence is inside the word as something to be read.
Quote with 28 notes
Sometimes we have to wait for years,” said Red Tain, “before the minute which marked us finds its voice again. But then it speaks, and we cannot stop the flow of words.
A dream, like trying
to remember, breaks open words
The words emerge from her body without her realizing it, as if she were being visited by the memory of a language long forsaken.
Marguerite Duras, Summer Rain
Words at night were feral things.
Joy Williams, Honored Guest
Quote with 25 notes
What is in a word? What lies at the core of language? It can only be the silent, empty[.] Nothing of the tomb, the pyramid of the dead letter, as in the letter A. For language abstracts from things, it memorialises life, it voids presence. Yet, language says this nothingness in so many beguilingly soft, sweet, subtle and insinuating ways. The textures of words make it palpable, their sonorities render it audible and their suggestively shapely letters display it graphically. At the core of a word, beneath the crust of its consonants, is the liquid of its vowels, and these vowels in effect liquidate the word until it flows into the ocean of nothingness.
That sand into which we bury ourselves in order not to see, is formed of words…and it is true that words, their labyrinths, the exhausting immensity of their “possibles”, in short their treachery, have something of quicksand about them.
Georges Bataille, L’expérience intérieure, translation by Leslie Ann Boldt
There’s a level at which words are spirit and paper is skin. That’s the fascination of archives. There’s still a bodily trace.
n. the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time—filled with thousands of old books you’ll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day they were captured.
Photo with 35 notes
Untitled (We construct the chorus of missing persons) by Barbara Kruger, 1983
Quote with 27 notes
I waken out of this forgetfulness very quickly. In great haste, I reconstitute a memory, a confusion. A (classic) word comes from the body, which expresses the emotion of absence: to sigh: “to sigh for the bodily presence”: the two halves of the androgyne sigh for each other, as if each breath, being incomplete, sought to mingle with the other: the image of the embrace, in that it melts the two images into a single one: in amorous absence, I am, sadly, an unglued image that dries, yellows, shrivels.
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