tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27325099.post-66075391015993851782007-08-06T10:42:00.000-06:002007-08-06T10:42:00.000-06:00i have recently been ravaged by words and bodies.<BR/><BR/>i am coming out of the WRITER’S EDGE literary conference this last weekend. i go into it very well prepared. like i know what i’m in for.<BR/><BR/>and yet i was done in.<BR/><BR/>it wasn’t the labor of it, which by the way, is formidable, and impossible to manage without my partner in passion and art lance olsen and my second self virginia paterson.<BR/><BR/>it wasn’t the intensity of the faculty, though they were, breathtakingly intense.<BR/><BR/>i have been ravaged by the people who, again, made the choice to join us.<BR/><BR/>strange and beautiful tribe.<BR/><BR/>i have been ravaged by the words and bodies and heat of you all. your writing. your pulse. your astonishing presence.<BR/><BR/>i have been ravaged by the soft eyelash quiver of a girl writing new myths, the hair of a tall woman opening language, by the skin-smell of someone sitting near me, by the color of a shirt illuminating a voice, by the slippages of a drunken young man bringing us back to the whole truth of the carnival, by the images running up and down the arms of a friend, by the dizzy dissolving boundaries between film/text/image/music, by an utterly ordered, disordered, reordered chaos, noise, chant, heartbeat.<BR/><BR/>heart beaten, i have been ravaged.<BR/><BR/>red dresses and boots.<BR/><BR/>the splayed hair of a woman resting on a black leather couch, her back toward the action.<BR/><BR/>chocolate covered strawberries.<BR/><BR/>anxious pleasures, wavering knives, lane bryant girls and women in dangerous positions mooning and turning.<BR/><BR/>someone naming me in a song.<BR/><BR/>my scotch in the toilet, glass shattered, my hands dipping into my own pee.<BR/><BR/>i’m telling you i would rather be ravaged everyday of my life like this than participate in the death culture of my current social order.<BR/><BR/>i’m telling you thank you.<BR/><BR/>for this ravishment.<BR/><BR/>it is enough.<BR/><BR/>come again.<BR/><BR/>with love,<BR/><BR/>lidiablondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11071230100404794724noreply@blogger.com