Coup de coeur et langue de fer.
Là ou l'on se terre, nos griffes sont des pierres.
★queerrring ecologies☆revolting is caring★magic tools&tricks☆ paganarchism★medievalism☆speculative fabulation★poe(li)tique blessing☆compost archeology★
I am interested in art that makes more room in the world, not add more produce to an already over populated and polluted mind
Ideally: art that makes more room and teaches us how to navigate waste
Here is what the sea smells like. It is more texture than scent, because the sea is primarily made of two substances that have no smell of their own: water and salt. Salt has no smell, but makes the air sting, and so all of the other smells of the sea are layered upon the pang of salt. Water has no smell but instead a comfort. We feel moisture as life and so the smells of the ocean are layered upon the contentment of the water. Salt is treble and water is bass. I don’t know how I know this is true, but I know it is true. The sea smells like old wood and wet leaves. Like cold mud and warm stone. Like every creature who has ever lived in it, a churning graveyard and nursery. Like winds from the inland carrying the hot circulation of life and winds from the ocean carrying the distant froth of waves against ships and islands. Like gray, only more so. Like blue, only less so.
∆ The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home, Joseph Fink & Jeffrey Cranor