ariana reines & vojtěch v. slama / poetry & photography

Posted on December 15, 2014 by

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We became slow. We grew tolerant and sad. Mothers. All at once we knew. We knew the depth of our capacities. We became equaller to them, more and more.

This was our art.

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[Love]

By Ariana Reines

Love

Is an interruption or an aberration, a force in opposition to the ultimate inertia
of the universe,
 
Wrote Marguerite Duras.
 
Whether or not it is worth it it occurs. Whether or not it is to be believed it is.
 
The wind moves us without a frond being needed to be held by a slave girl.
 
The rudiments of sentences are ancient without a mouth needing to remember
what it is losing as it lets those words out, something eviller than what they
even mean right now, something too evil to be known right now
 
Or ever.
 
I feel sure that even the most culpable people have other qualities secreted
away
 
Adjusting their garments in light of fate
 
He turned his head upward, he looked up the white wall. The light from the
lamp could be light coming from a great distance, it could be a great distance
away, and the wall could be snow it is so beautiful, he said. His head looking
up the wall, his eyes looking up it, he said, that nail in the wall could also be
beautiful, for so far away.

A very nice article written by Ariana Reines about Francesca Woodman. Quoted, F.W.
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