September 04, 2005

TROMPE L'OEIL

Cowboyz N Poodz is built for reflief linx.

Seeing armies of the armed in to "handle" N. Orleans, families separated and shipped apart, interned in camps--calling to mind Sandburg's line about government of traditions handed down.

Macia does Bush-et-Karl photodialog.

Extended remix of one-thing-after-another: In a 30 hour span, I was in the head-on car crunch, our families dog (my mom's third child) was hit by a car and killed in front of the house, then my lil' sister left and moved to Barcelona. So, I came up to Mnpls, to tend to my mother's mourning process, which mostly involves cooking and distracting, intercepting the ceaseless plates of food delivered by family friends and neighboors, wrapping them in foil and putting them in the fridge.

Mourning on top of mourning, from sportsdomes to the sky, from beggy prayers to angry and baffled ones. And at night, on the phones, or in the car, there are talks of how do we confront our priviledge, as white people middle class and free enough to get on planes and fly to deal with dog-death, and once we have acknoledged that we are, by citizenry, by class, by race, by comfort--complicit with so much--how do we renege?

In 3 hours I am 29, and that is older than I have ever been.

Posted by Jessica at September 4, 2005 09:45 PM | TrackBack