Art. Word. Thought.
I walked across Paris to the Palais Éphémère to go to Paris Photo.
I walked
Across
Paris,
Dense with ghosts.
I walked between selves. I walked to the future. I walk. I walked.
by Allyn Aglaïa Aumand
On the coherence of fracture
an essay in fragments on fragments
*
I had a lover once, who self described as a volcano, but fully encased.
Make space to let it out sometimes, I told him.
That’s why I wanted to see you today, he said.
by Allyn Aglaïa Aumand
In New York, briefly at the beginning of the year, I stayed at the home of friends: a documentary filmmaker and a photographer, both from Italy. Another friend, a former farmer turned urbanist and dancer came by the house for tea. She marveled at the space, which had an aesthetic completely distinct from her own. “There are so many ways to be in the world,” she said. She had an energy of admiration, and also liberation, tinged with a small sense of why didn’t anyone tell me? “The more I see other ways of being, the more free I feel to live however I choose,” she said. [Read more…]
by Allyn Aglaïa Aumand
I lent Jason Eskenazi’s photo books to a friend of mine to look at after dinner. I had been carrying them in my suitcase for eight months. It was the night before a residency where I planned to finally cohere the fragments of this essay into a text. In the morning my friend told me the books were intense to look at right before bed. She quoted the introductory poem to Departure Lounge:
If you cannot bear your grief
And you dare not dare to die
Then make of grief a song
And bear it high.