Show Me Your Palms: The Art of Giving and Hiding, or, The Filth Inside Our Pockets

"There, I saw something amazing:  The darkness mixed with light."  

- J. Genet

                                                      

It is the season for exactly what I want.

Bleached sheets.

Garter belts that hold thick tights I have cut at the very tops of their thighs (how I hate the 'drop crotch' of ill-designed leg wear).

Worn pages.

Mugs filled with heat that will steam the view I have through my glasses.

Candles in glass votive holders of crimson, emerald, cobalt - reminders of the stained glass comfort of childhood Catholicism that will forever wrap itself tightly around my body any time their lights flicker in a darkened room; images of hands clasped in desperate prayer.

Analog photographs of stirrings and their candid decisions.

Burials.

The consideration of butterscotch.

Wet soil and the treasures that mistakenly disappear within it. (It can be so hard to hear the things we lose in the rain).

Resurrections.

Seance, perhaps, and all that is akin to it.

Motions towards strangers you are curiously drawn to - if only because it is fall, your interactions are steeped in what streams from your headphones, and you are kept in the protection of that warm, woolen scarf.

Blankets

and secrets

and revelations of every sort.




Surely the spread of sky will grant me this.



-k.




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I've been having a lot of conversations about worker's collectives with roughly four people- all connected to unions and/or labor related work- living in three different parts of the country, lately.  It's been exciting to a potent degree.  Coincidentally, I've been reading Paulo Freire's Pedagogy of Hope, and it has proved to be quite a beautiful and fitting accident of accentuation.

Here's an article just about one of the places in the world that this has been happening.  Comparing the overall unemployment in Spain to this one part of the Basque region in Spain, and it speaks for itself. A friend went to research and learn about the system.  In any case, something on my mind as of late:

Mondragon

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Jean Genet quote from this 1981 interview, linked here for you, below:

Oh, Jean. You're such a privileged fuck, but you give voice to a particular filth and, for this, I thank you.


(photo credit: darkdaze tumblr)